Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Networking, Connecting and Reaching Out


House historian and professional genealogist Marian Pierre-Louis writes the kind of blog that generates discussion. Her post yesterday in Marian’s Roots and Rambles was no exception. She asked,

What is networking? And is it worth the effort?

Her main focus was in questioning whether networking actually helps genealogists and family historians—either professionals or hobbyists—attain their research goals.

I say it does.

Whether you consider the term “networking” from a traditional perspective or Web 2.0 framework, I’d say that networking does have its place in enhancing the research process. It’s just that the improvement may not be readily quantifiable—it may be downright invisible to those who come by it naturally. It’s hard to measure how something keeps you from lesser results than you might have otherwise had, especially when day-to-day genealogy pursuits are already earmarked with so many results of community efforts. And we can't acknowledge with due gratefulness what we don't perceive as the blessings sent our way through others' contributions.


My Bias: Networking in my Roots

Marian mentioned that, to her, networking was something intuitive—something inherited or absorbed by osmosis from her mom.

I owe my dad that same disclaimer: I got it from him. He was the type of guy who knew everyone—and everyone knew him. He was a musician—but also a teacher and a businessman. He mastered the art of just hanging out. He took the time to get to know people. And people thrive when they are around someone who cares. Our family used to joke that we couldn’t go anywhere without bumping into someone who knew our dad—no matter how far from home we traveled.

One day, I sat down and wrote up everything I had learned about networking by watching my dad—and by realizing all the benefits that our family reaped from his tendency to network. I actually ended up using that list as the basis of a seminar I taught at a conference.

Of course, that was before the era of widespread personal computer usage, but the rudimentary basics remain the same. It’s just the equipment that’s gotten souped up. With no cell phone, no laptop computer, no wifi, no social media, I guess you could say my dad could network with one half of our connectivity tied behind his back.


My Track Record: Being the Recipient of Networking Benefits

Just yesterday, someone emailed me to discuss a photo I had shared in a blog post nearly a year ago. It turns out the photo was a picture of her grandmother in her young adult years. I had posted the photo because a distant relative of my husband had loaned it to me to see if I could make any connections. And not only had I made those connections, but I can now point yesterday’s correspondent to other, closer relatives. While it took several months before that blog post yielded any results, as far as networking goes, I say it was well worth the wait.

Last month, one of my readers (and a blogger in his own right) found a way to obtain an old book that happened to mention some details of my husband’s Chicago family from the late 1800s. After discussing the discovery with me via email, he decided to buy a used copy of the book and mail it to me.

Holding that book in my hands, I can’t tell you how awe-struck I am when I leaf through those pages and see our ancestors’ names woven into the narrative of that story. But I can tell you that, if it weren’t for networking, I would never have received the gift of that book, for I’ve never met this reader. I know him only courtesy of online networking. Another blogger whom I’ve also never met, Far Side of Fifty, connected me with this researcher. Through Far Side’s blog, Forgotten Old Photos, I had been trying to learn how to delve into the historic details of old photographs—observing her posts religiously and commenting and asking questions. Somehow, that prompted her to connect me with this other researcher. It was a moment of networking that didn’t cost anyone much of anything—but I’m glad it happened.

I could go on and on about networking serendipity—the very fact that I now know which surname to research for my father’s elusive paternal line is owing to an unexpected tip from someone in the old FamilyTreeMaker users’ network—but I’m sure you have as many stories as I have.

I think we can hypothesize about whether networking is worth all the fuss for endless hours. But until we not only give it a try, but put some effort into making it a part of our life, we can’t do justice to the concept by our speculation. We really need to take networking out for a test drive, read the operating manual and get ourselves educated about this machine we’re about to co-opt. We need to get a rubber-meets-the-road feel for this networking operation and how it connects like-minded people and enables them to collectively achieve their goals.


The Rub: Meeting the Digital Road

When you take that ageless ability to branch out and meet others—to take the initiative to strike up a conversation and see where it leads—and fuse it with the technology we have at our fingertips today, networking has the potential to exponentially grow those traditional results. While the old one-on-one path of “getting to know you” established trust through doing face-to-face time, the newer path absolutely demands integrity in networking—yet opens the doors for the shy as well as the charismatic to participate. While the old route seemed to favor that “good ol’ boy” network, the newer way levels the playing field to facilitate meetings that might not, with the staunch gatekeepers of bygone eras, have ever occurred. The Internet Highway hasn’t really changed the rules; it has just changed the magnitude of possibilities.

And this way isn’t just “All About Me.” I see it as technology’s way of facilitating a new form of the Golden Rule. We can’t just think of networking in terms of what it can do for me. We need to be willing to give before we can expect to get. To realize that thinking about you is good business for me.


Looking for Help in So Many More Places

Genealogists and family history researchers have always pursued an impossible dream: there is always one more ancestor to find, yet one more reference volume to consult, just one more database to check. Even if we could achieve that “one more” dream, it would be impossible to attain it alone. We have to face the fact that research is really a team effort.

With the explosion of genealogical resources both online and off, there is no possible way one person could read it all, record it all, and share it all.

Without a network.

And really—isn’t it true that everything we have already found came with the help of others?

Think of those neophyte years, just learning the ropes of researching, benefiting from the experience—and sometimes the actual data—of other, more seasoned, researchers.

Think of all those queries written to far-flung genealogy societies, hoping that someone in the Perry County Genealogical Society’s newsletter—or the Harper County GenWeb, or the Pottawatomie County Rootsweb mailing list—could answer my brick-wall question.

Think of that quick and easy post on GenForum or Ancestry’s message boards, asking for a local member to do one of those Random Acts of Genealogical Kindness and perform a lookup.

Think of tweeting a latest genealogy find—“Got my DNA results back today!!!”—and adding the hashtag so everyone in the Twitterverse well-versed in #genealogy could share your moment.

And then think how easy technology has made it for us to not only stand there with our electronic hand out, waiting for someone to “gimme”—but also be able to turn around and retweet, Facebook “Like” or Google+ someone else’s insight or notable accomplishment. Every hyperlink you find in any blog post is a writer's way of sharing—read: networking—a new resource with you. The Internet was made for networking. It is a vehicle for collaboration.


Coming to a Place of Gratefulness

When I think of all those possibilities—of giving as well as e-getting—I realize what a powerful position we now find ourselves in as genealogy researchers. We can retweet, along with @marianpl, Ancestry.com’s jubilation that the 1940 census is now fully indexed—a feat, itself, that could never have happened with such speed without the connectivity of the internet and the social proofing of all those validating online friends. We networked to gather such a group of volunteers and get them on a roll. It was a matter of friends passing the word along to friends to the “sixth degree of separation” and beyond.

To merely wonder whether networking is worth someone’s time and effort is rather short-sighted in view of the powerful benefits cascading down on us as we reach out and research. Without the equipment and technology afforded us through the interconnectivity of Web 2.0 systems—the social media we’ve come to take for granted (as if we couldn’t remember a day before cell phones)—and without those rudimentary skills of reaching out and getting to know the person next to us (whether physically or by special interest categories), we could never have accomplished all that we have achieved in our genealogy research. Whether you consider this collectively (as in the 1940 indexing project) or individually (as in each researcher’s willingness to post her family tree in an online format), we have an awesome opportunity to accelerate our genealogical accomplishments by using the resources at hand that allow us to connect with others keen on pursuing those unique-yet-shared interests.

I’d say that kind of networking goes far beyond the realm of “Is it worth the effort?” To me, it’s a matter of “How could I not take advantage of the benefits.”


Photograph, above right: Agnes Dockery O'Brien, born about 1873 in Wisconsin; from the private collection of the descendants of Edna Tully McCaughey.

For the original blog post, see:  Marian's Roots and Rambles: What is networking? And is it worth the effort?

Monday, August 6, 2012

What We Were Looking For


When our family took our recent whirlwind research trip to the Allen County Public Library in Fort Wayne, we were looking for a few specific things. While we only had a few hours in which to accomplish our goals, I’d say those six hours turned out to be relatively productive.

My goal was to retrace my steps from an ages-old visit to the Sutro Library in San Francisco, where I had stumbled upon a book listing Taliaferro descendants. Serendipitously, the list had included my grandmother’s name. While I’ve yet to find that title from those early, more naïve, days of genealogical research when I couldn’t even manage to jot down the title or call number of the book (!) I’ve since found scores of other resources that more than satisfy my quest on that surname. My end game strategy is to secure documentation to qualify for membership in the Daughters of the American Revolution. The link is there for the taking with the Taliaferro line. At this point, it’s just the minutiae of the grunt work that lies ahead.

While that was my primary purpose for my limited research time at Fort Wayne, my husband had his own agenda. Descended from a family settling in Ohio in the early 1800s, his hope was to find a viable way to document that residence of his Flowers line prior to 1821 so he and all his siblings could be designated part of the Ohio Genealogical Society's lineage society known as First Families of Ohio.

His link to that status was tenuous, last time we looked. We can find biographical accounts listing his ancestor’s younger brother’s birth in Ohio before 1820, but no documentation for this particular ancestor’s arrival there. Of course, where a child is born, a mother can’t be far away—at least in my amateur mind’s way of thinking. And mothers qualify as ancestors, too, last time I checked. However, with spotty baptismal records serving as the only official documents of the time—and wouldn’t you know it, even this brother’s birth didn’t make the cut when the itinerant priest came by to do his duty—I have had to look elsewhere for some type of verification of the family’s residence in those early years.

Unfortunately, that missing link will have to continue under its status of UTL—Unable To Locate—for now. However, while perusing several volumes published by the Perry County, Ohio, Genealogical Society within the collection at the Fort Wayne Library, we were delighted to uncover another possible route to that First Families designation: a biographical sketch acknowledging the arrival of a Snider family link within the required time frame. We may now have two routes to our goal to pursue on that account.

Using our Flip Pal Scanner as well as the library’s copy machines, we had plenty of resources to capture for further study after leaving the library, further accelerating our research progress.

Who says research goals can’t be conquered despite large collections in the face of limited time? Zeroing in on specific goals, resized proportionately for time allotted, can still permit a researcher—or, in our case, a research team—to claim “mission accomplished.”

Sunday, August 5, 2012

Making the Most of a Last Minute Opportunity


Lately, there have been a lot of genealogy-related posts on preparing for research trips. With coveted archive collections housed in destinations like Salt Lake City and Fort Wayne, the overwhelming resources concentrated in such facilities nearly compel a visitor to be well-prepared. After all the time and expense involved in traveling to such destinations, that’s the only way to make it a cost-effective visit.

But what if, while on the way to some other destination for some other reason, you realize that with a little tinkering of the itinerary, you can jigger next week’s road trip to include a stop at your favorite genealogical dream destination?

That was the situation I found myself in, as our family flew back east to Chicago and then planned a drive to Ohio. At each wifi-enabled coffee stop along the route, as I tapped into my Google Reader, I ruefully noted such posts as Marian Pierre-Louis’ August 2 entry, “Planning a Research Trip.” And all her posts leading up to that point, starting with the one published the day after we left Fort Wayne: “When to Start a Research Plan.”

What’s a last-minute procrastinator to do?

By taking the state highways instead of the interstate freeways, I had realized I could re-route our family through Fort Wayne instead of Indianapolis, and shave seven minutes off the total drive time, to boot. Add a hotel stay in the middle of the journey, and voilà! An instant six hour chunk carved out of our travel plans. Right next to this fabulous genealogy library.

Who could resist?

So, now that the deed is done—despite the well-thought-out advice of the experts—here’s what I can do to salvage a list of “What To Do When a Fabulous Research Opportunity Falls Into Your Lap Even if You Weren’t Prepared To Go.”

Step #1: For crying out loud, who cares if you were prepared or not?! Just GO!
Don’t even think about being prudent or polishing your fallen halo with a false-modesty comment like, “I wouldn’t even dream of going there until I deserved to go by virtue of my impeccable preparation skills.”

Step #2: Do everything you can do to prepare.
Cut to the chase. Eyeball the time you have left before your departure time and figure out how much data you can assemble for your trip. Even though your prep time is short, if you already have records in a genealogy database, you can use that program’s print-out options to generate lists of the specific ancestors you want to zero in on. Better yet, if you already have your data in a web-based system, and can tap into that via your laptop and the internet, do so. Our three-person family research team came to Fort Wayne armed with two laptops and an iPad. Research tables embedded with electrical outlets to spare those batteries, plus wifi access made our limited time at Fort Wayne as productive as possible, by allowing us to check our Ancestry.com and Rootsweb.com family records if we ran into questions that my thumbnail-sketch print-outs didn’t address.

Step #3: Orient yourself to your destination library before arriving there.
While our family had done research in the Allen County Public Library before, I realized it had been at least ten years—and a construction project—since we had last been there. Things had surely changed. Reviewing their website revealed an Orientation Video, as well as online catalog access. There is even a “How To Get Started” link for people just beginning their family history research. It was quite unnerving (but in a serendipitous way)—having watched the Orientation Video at the hotel just before heading to the library that Thursday night—to walk into the genealogy section and see, seated at the librarian’s desk, the very person I had just seen a few minutes before on the video. Right then, I went from “oriented” to déjà vu!

Step #4: As much as possible, utilize online resources before arriving.
This was the part of the trip that my unforgiving time squeeze didn’t permit. For those with the luxury of more time to prepare, the Fort Wayne genealogy collection also includes a sizeable portion accessible online, as well as a catalog of their holdings that can be perused from home.

All in all, if I had it to do over again, I certainly would not have put myself in that time-squeeze position. I would have loved to have more time to prepare.

On the other hand, if I demanded more time up front, I probably wouldn’t have had the opportunity to stop by at all.

Sometimes it all comes down to that cold cost-benefit analysis: take the opportunity when it presents itself? Or hope for another, more well-prepared chance in the future?

I’ll take mine now.


Above right: 1795 map of Fort Wayne prepared for General Anthony Wayne by P. M. Neff; pen and ink mounted on cloth backing. Courtesy Library of Congress via Wikipedia. In the public domain.

Saturday, August 4, 2012

Thoughts On a Late Arrival Home


It’s been a couple weeks now that I’ve been traveling with my family, mostly driving through the Midwest, visiting relatives. 

Pulling into our driveway well past midnight—courtesy of what was to us an unexpected wait, held captive out on the tarmac while Air Force One received priority clearance for their landing in the city of our connecting flight—we were weary but satisfied with our trip. We had connected with family we don’t often get to see, and we took care of some long-standing matters that set some minds at ease. All the while, I got to collect family stories and even stop in Fort Wayne for some research at what has got to be one of the country’s most extensive genealogy collections.

I’ll talk about that part of the trip later—after some sleep! In the meantime, despite the delay, I get to close my day knowing our family made someone else’s day, if only in a small way.

As is my husband’s custom when we fly, he packs a small token of appreciation to share with those who help us along on our journey: a candy bar with a thank you note. As I’ve explained before, it is amazing to see the reactions to a simple gesture of gratitude. We’ve seen this little note bring tears to the eyes of airline personnel—those flight attendants who evidently have quite the thankless job—and have heard story after story of experiences they’ve gone through in their years of service.

Not surprisingly, the crew of the Southwest flight we took from Chicago to our connection in Las Vegas also wanted to express some thanks of their own. In an impromptu response written on a paper towel from their kitchen galley and wrapped in a makeshift red ribbon borrowed for the occasion, their note back to us simply said:


Thank you both for the candy but most importantly the message. Thank you for the smile it brought to our day. It was a privilege and a pleasure to fly you both to Vegas [the connecting city we flew through on our way back home]. Hope you enjoy your weekend. Although the candy was eaten the message will not be forgotten.
            [heart] Your flight crew

Sometimes travel—even travel we look forward to, like visiting loved ones or attending a helpful conference—can be exhausting, but little gestures like this can perk up those inevitable difficulties that cross our path as we simply try to get from here to there and back again.

Friday, August 3, 2012

Never Forgetting Our “Friends”


While scanning the memorials for Sister Mary Mercy the past few days, I couldn’t resist noticing what was printed on the reverse of the article from the Parochial Monthly during that October month way back in 1912. Like the autumn months of life as we know it now, the pages of most advertisement-driven publications back then also benefited from the flow of finances from the coffers of candidates across the city and across the state.

Although Agnes’ full-blooded Irish descendants and devout Catholics may have objected that it was otherwise, it was interesting to let history speak for itself with the ad copy for this Republican candidate:


Don’t Forget Our Old Friend
Republican Candidate for
Re-Election to Congress

Thursday, August 2, 2012

Make That One Flanagan


There are some people who make such an impression upon us that we wish to remember them forever. Perhaps, for Agnes Tully Stevens, Sister Mary Mercy was such a mentor. Agnes kept that small packet of remembrances, clipped carefully from local newspapers, with her until she died in 1985. What was the significance of Sister Mary Mercy to Agnes’ life?

At this point, having discovered that Sister Mary Mercy was born into a household surnamed Flannigan, I have more reasons than one to pursue the answer to that question. And yet, finding any Sister for whom I know no given birth name seems next to impossible.

Given the hint of the surname Flannigan—by virtue of the copy of her eulogy—and coupling it with the known location and date of her death, I thought I’d give FamilySearch a try.

Impossibly, incredibly, I got a result right away.


And more beautifully tantalizing than that was the discovery that—at least for this official completing the form for her death certificate—the surname was actually spelled Flanagan.

Sister Mary Mercy made the cut in yet another way: though the Chicago city death certificates I’ve seen for the early 1900s—the 1907 certificate for Agnes’ father, John Tully, for instance—do not include all the data that a genealogist might long for, by virtue of delaying her departure from this earth until just a few years later, Sister Mary Mercy gave us the gift of learning her parents’ names.

Born on March 4, 1860, to parents James and Honora Flanagan in Freeport, Illinois, most likely Sister Mary Mercy was given the name Ellen—or possibly Sarah Ellen. A likely family listing in this 1870 census for the town of Freeport in Stephenson County, includes a ten-year-old Ellen. As for the cryptic note in her memoriam regarding being survived by Reverend Mother Mary Xavier and Sister Mary Evangelist, these may indeed have been her blood relatives. Listed at FamilySearch.org in their own right, those sisters lived until February 22, 1943, and July 2, 1946, respectively.

An added bonus, should I need more temptation to check out this Flanagan line: the family may have originated in County Limerick.

I should know better than to be swayed by such temptations.

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Remembering With a Poem


Funerals are always trying times. The almost unbearable outpouring of grief has no comparison.

Despite this, funerals have often served as midwife for artistic expression—as if that creative spark flares up in the face of life being snuffed out.

Upon the death of Sister Mary Mercy—one woman whose impression on Agnes Tully Stevens prompted her to collect and save these tender remembrances—a near anonymous “K. C.” took pen and paper and sought to express his or her loss in the therapy of poetry.


IN MEMORIAM.

Written on the Death of Sr. M. Mercy,
Sister Superior of St. Anne’s Acad-
emy, October 18, 1912.

Dead! Can it be that we no more shall see
The eyes that ne’er refused us sympathy,
That thy dear voice again we may not hear
Speak words of council, kindliness or cheer.

Dead! Yes! The noble heart—the gold fire-tried,
Its suffering will no longer strive to hide;
Superior just, and mother, sister, friend—
All these wert thou to us—is this the end?

Tribute more eloquent than gifted tongue
Or genius’ lyre could pay, the tears which wrung
From many, fall today beside thy bier,
Who knew thee but to love thee and revere.

Dark are these hours, but as we follow thee
In spirit o’er the viewless boundary
’Twixt earth and Heav’n, Peace comes to sit with Grief—
Here, only here, can sorrow find relief.

Thou art with God, and—O God-given boon!—
Still, still is left us—with thee to commune,
As one of His bright household, lately blest,
Till we have merited eternal rest.
                                                K. C.