"Hey, Can you Give Me the Family Genealogy?"

No, actually. Not easily! There's too much of it! It's going to take years to write it up, if I ever feel ready to do that. We're having a family reunion this weekend and I want to provide information for my relatives. It lies relatively hidden on my computer and in files in my office, and it's certainly not ready for distribution, yet there is plenty I will share with my Barnes cousins.

For over twenty years I've been gently working on my family lines. A great deal had been done by other family members, so often I'm just verifying or trying to break down the few brick walls, especially on the Barnes side. I have to admit though that I spent most of my early years learning about resources, methodology and professional practices until I felt reasonably qualified, then I began taking clients. What I haven't done is concentrate on descendants of my ancestors because there are far too many. I've got enough Barnes descendants to make an impression, but probably not even one tenth of the total! I just document them as I run into them, to distinguish them from my own direct lines, for instance. But let's not even talk about the descendants of my other lines! There are scads of Litchfields, for instance, probably a billion living in Scituate alone (haha), but I've only taken note, again, of those families that are in my direct line, or those who could be confused with them. This is hard to explain to people who wonder why I can't just hand over the book. Yes we're related to Israel Litchfield of diary fame, but not directly, so he doesn't appear in a pedigree or fan chart. He's my 5th great-uncle, brother of my 5th great grandfather Capt. Daniel Litchfield Sr. (see my John Hancock post).

Now we're about to gather a big gang of Barnes descendants together and I wish I had a book to hand out! So instead I've made some charts––big ones––to hang up on the side of the house. I'm bringing red pens so people can make corrections. I've asked them to sign their notations so I can know who my sources are (I neglected to do that in 1995) and I'm bringing along some family group sheets for those extra large families of unknown cousins. 

Here are the charts I'm making:

•  10-Generation fan chart starting with my grandfather and his siblings and moving back to 1600s.

•  All descendants of Capt. Joseph Barnes and Polly Vinal, mostly via Israel Merritt Barnes I. This one has photos included.

•  Descendants of the father of immigrant ancestor Thomas Barnes for 6 generations.

•  Lists of Revolutionary War, Mayflower, and Ancient and Honorable Artillery ancestors.

I use Reunion for Macintosh, which creates lovely charts but is quite buggy, especially with a 100-page chart. These charts contain so much info that they have to be huge in order to be legible. It's much too expensive to print them in color so it's black and white and the photographs suffer. 

The fan chart at the beginning of this post will be 16 inches by 30 inches. Not too bad considering how many names it has. People enjoy seeing the whole she-bang at once. Get a load of those glaring brick walls. How they torture me!!

The next chart is the descendants of Joseph Barnes. This one took a lot of tweaking before I could get it down to 100 pages. I forget the final dimensions, but it's something like 18 inches by 120 or thereabouts! It will include everyone at the reunion and many more.

And the final one, below, is 16 inches by 51. It has descendants of the immigrant down six generations. I love doing these because they show me gaps. I need to do some work on the early Barnes generations.

When I feel ready, I'll get one done up properly by the Chart Chick, Janet Hovorka, at generationmaps.com, who does wonderful work, but for now, we intend to scribble on these and use them as information-gathering vehicles, so I don't want to spend too much money or time. Besides, I'm not ready yet. This is kind of joke because you're never ready. You can never be finished with genealogical research. There is always one more source to consult, one new ancestor who blesses you with two more progenitors. 

Anyway, I'm excited to display these for my Barnes cousins and even more excited to see everyone!

Atwood Mott and His Mysterious Female Relatives

It seems fitting on this Fourth of July weekend to discuss the family of one of my own Revolutionary War ancestors, Atwood Mott. Atwood, it seems, was surrounded by women of unknown origin: both his mother and his wife are shrouded in mystery.

I was first introduced to Atwood in the context of a Mayflower line. In 1979, my mother and Aunt Abbie were accepted into the Mayflower Society on a line back to Stephen Hopkins through Atwood's mother Deborah Atwood. By 1998, when I tried to join the Mayflower Society on that line, it was rejected––precisely because of Deborah Atwood! I won't dwell on Deborah here except to say that that I know she's not going to be easy to find.

I haven't delved into thorough search on Atwood yet. I have two other proven Mayflower lines, so it has never seemed too critical. Plus, I know that these are not going to be simple to solve, and because I've been so preoccupied with clients, family and other ancestors, he remains on my "Requires Further Research" list. He was born 18 September 1736, in Scituate, Massachusetts, son of Ebenezer Mott Jr. and Deborah Atwood, according to the published Vital Records of Scituate (1:262). His marriage to Mrs. Hannah Whood on 23 July 1758 also is listed (2:211).

And Samuel Deane, in his History of Scituate, says only this about him:  "Lieutenant Atwood Mott, a worthy man (the father of the wives of Nehemiah Merritt, Nathaniel Vinal and Laban Rose), was also son of Ebenezer, Jr. He married Hannah Hood 1758. Hannah (widow of Laban Rose) was wife of Gamaliel Merritt, 1782."

How's that for a confusing treatment? I find it odd that for a man described only in terms of his daughters' husbands, the other two women in his life are so hard to pin down. You'd never know it from the above paragraph, but the Hannah in the last sentence is his daughter, not his wife. Of his three daughters, two were married twice, both to Merritt men, not brothers. The other sister was my ancestor.

Anyway, for a "worthy" man, he doesn't get much space in the history books. He is, however, mentioned in Mass. Soldiers and Sailors of the Revolution (11:168):

"Mott, Atwood, Scituate, Corporal, Capt. Samuel Stockbridge's co. of Minutemen, Col. Bailey's regt., which marched on the alarm of April 19, 1775; service, 21 days; also, Lieutenant, Capt. Samuel Stockbridge's co., Gen. John Thomas's regt.; list of officers who were commissioned May 19, 1775; also, Lieutenant, same co. and regt.; muster roll dated Aug. 1, 1775; engaged May 10, 1775; service, 2 mos., 3 weeks, 6 days; also, company return dated Oct. 7, 1775; also, Capt. Seth Stowers's co., Col. J. Robinson's regt.; engaged June 27, 1777; service, 6 mos. 3 days, at Rhode Island."

Apart from his military service, the only other information I have in my notes is that he was admitted to full Communion in the First Church of Scituate on 4 February 1770 (Mayflower Descendant 10-11:208).

Nothing on his mother, not much on him, so my first step will be to get a look at some land and probate records. These will hopefully also provide some information on his wife, Mrs. Hannah Whood. WHOOD? What kind of name is that? The vital records say it could also be Wood or Woods, and somewhere else I saw Hood suggested. Still, nothing comes up in Scituate. She's a mystery, plain and simple. From the Mrs. we can deduce that she is a widow of a man named Whood. My mother always thought that maybe she was Native American. That is probably because the only time the name, spelled as Whood, is found, it belongs to some "Indians" around Plymouth. The name has also appeared in Middleborough and in Shapleigh, Maine.

I don't even dare to guess at anything, though, and I think it would be jumping the gun to make any kind of research plan before even seeing land and probate records. This is the kind of project that will require writing up as I go along, and I'll have to suffer a lull in clients before I attack it, but whenever that happens, I will enjoy it, I'm sure!

Capt. Daniel Litchfield [Sr.] and his brush with John Hancock

I found this in an online German auction a few months ago [http://www.autogramme.com : 20 Apr 2010]. Capt. Daniel Litchfield is my ancestor. Here is the text that accompanied it.


"John Hancock (1737-1793)
Merchant, statesman, and prominent Patriot of the American Revolution. He served as President of the Second Continental Congress and was the first Governor of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. He is remembered for his large and stylish signature on the United States Declaration of Independence, so much so that "John Hancock" became, in the United States, a synonym for signature.


Revolutionary War Era Appointment of Daniel Litchfield, Gent. as Captain of the Tenth Company, Second Regiment of Militia, Plimoth (sic), under Col. William Turner, dated April 2, 1783 and boldly signed by both John Hancock as Governor and John Avery as Sec'y, with embossed paper seal upper left, in rigid archival sleeve, SS: 11x10.5 inch, 3 vertical & horizontal folds, small holes at the crossfolds, tones, minor foxing. Docked on reverse with witness to oath of office. Daniel Litchfield was from Scituate, had already served as a Private in Capt. Hayward Pierce's Company, Col. Cushing's Regiment, marched to Bristol, RI on the alarm of Dec 1776, later Capt Bonney's Company, Col Sparhawk's Regt, at Castle Island Oct-Dec 1778. Rare !
Preis: 4500  Euro  ID:21418"


Wow! That's a lot of money: 4,500 Euros is about $5,574!! I obviously did not purchase it. If it weren't a John Hancock signature, of course, it wouldn't be worth more than a couple of hundred dollars. But it's a great piece of evidence in my Barnes family history archive. Daniel Litchfield was always referred to as Capt. Dan'l, but I couldn't figure out why. Mass. Soldiers and Sailors doesn't mention this! The only two entries for him are these:

Volume 9page 860 Litchfield, Daniel. Private, Capt. Hayward Peirce's co., Col. John Cushing's (2d Plymouth Co.) regt.; service, 15 days; company ordered to march to Bristol, R. I., on an alarm in Dec., 1776; roll dated Scituate; also, Capt. Ichabod Bonney's co., Col. Nathan Sparhawk's regt.; marched Oct. 5, 1778; service, 1 mo. 15 days, at Castle Island; travel home (4 days) allowed; company discharged Dec. 11, 1778.

Volume 9 page 864 Litchfield, Daniel, Scituate. Private, Capt. Samuel Stockbridge's co. of Minute-men, Col. Bailey's regt., which marched on the alarm of April 19, 1775; service, 21 days.

The Litchfield Family in America has this to say about him: “A large and imposing man with a ‘deep, gruff voice,’ he ‘lived in that part of Scituate facetiously...called ‘Sodom,’ of which he was wont to say jocosely that he was King.’ Daniel was a natural leader who filled important public offices including one year as representative to the General Court (1785); he also served as a private in Capt. Pierce’s company of minutemen.” [Wilford J. Litchfield, The Litchfield Family in America, 1630-1900, 5 booklets bound together, v. (Scituate, Massachusetts: Wilford J. Litchfield, 1901-06), 283-300.] This is a great book, by the way, and has much more on him.

He held a position of great respect in Scituate and a memorial to him stands not far from the graves of my other ancestors, including my own parents. My brother bought a house that was built on the site of Capt. Dan'l's house (the Captain's house burned), and coincidentally, that house abuts the cemetery, Mt. Hope in the West End of Scituate. My brother is also buried in that cemetery. 

I found his signature on Footnote.com in the Revolutionary War pension of Samuel Hyland. [NARA M804, Revolutionary War Pension and Bounty-Land Warrant Application Files, Mass. Pension Number: S. 32,880.]

Lucky the Massachusetts Genealogist When It Comes to Vital Records

Genealogical research in Massachusetts can be so easy, it feels like cheating. We've got many sources of original information which have been duplicated in various forms through the years. But using them wisely and efficiently takes experience. Analysis of evidence includes considering when, how and by whom a record was created. Who provided the information, and how close in time to the event being documented? What was the author's motive and how many times it has been duplicated or transcribed? The only problem we have in the Bay State is that we need to be careful not to grab the first available source, but to ferret out the best one. And that can get tricky.

It's Vital to Start Early
From the earliest days of settlement, we've been diligent about recording vital records and noting town business. The first step in establishing a town was usually for a group of proprietors to petition the Crown or General Court for permission to settle. They were then ordered to gather "a church," "call" a minister and raise a meeting house. So the minister and church clerk books start up very early in the life of a town, right along with the town clerk's records. We've been ahead in the record-keeping game since the Pilgrims landed.

In Mourt's Relation, Edward Winslow sent home glowing reports to England, trying to put a positive spin on the Plymouth colony, and gave us some insight into the very earliest of activities here. Later, of course, William Bradford wrote Of Plimoth Plantation, which is the source of a great deal of information on "decreasings and increasings" (deaths and births) of the "first comers" and their progeny, mostly gleaned from his own contemporaneous notations.

A Funny thing Happened on the Way to the Church
Marriages in the early Plymouth church were celebrated by magistrates––not clergy as in England––a practice which the Pilgrims had discovered during their stay in Holland. As Bradford says, they had adopted the "laudable custome of the Low-cuntries, in which they had lived, [which] was thought most requisite to be performed by the magistrate, as being a civill thing, upon which many questions about inheritances doe depende." He then goes on to say, "The practice hath continued amongst, not only [the Plymouth church], but hath been followed by all the [Congregational] churches of Christ in these parts to this time, Anno: 1646." [William Bradford, History of Plymouth Plantation 1620-1647, ed. Worthington C. Ford, 2 vols. (Boston, 1912), 1:218.] Eventually marriages were noted both in the church registers and in the town records, so we have a second chance at finding those elusive connections.

Is That Legal?
By 1672 the Colony had published very specific laws on this aspect of government, considering it a necessary administrative function which allowed those in charge to monitor population and trends, and as Bradford indicated, to keep track of the legality of inheritance.

"It is therefore Ordered by this Court and Authority thereof; That no person whatsoever in this Jurisdiction, shall joyn any persens together in Marriage, but the Magistrate, or such other as the General Court, or Court of Assistants shall Authorize in such place, where no Magistrate is near."

Couples were married by the Magistrate, or Justice of the Peace, and though this was a civil process, it was not seen as ungodly or irreverent. A newly married couple's first visit to meeting on Sunday morning was celebrated with great fanfare, and often the bride was allowed to select a Bible passage upon which the sermon would be based. And to add to the multiplicity of records available to the lucky Massachusetts genealogist we have banns of marriage, or publishments, and marriage intentions:

"Nor shall any Magistrate or other person Authorized as aforesaid, joyne any persons together in Marriage, or suffer them to joyne together in Marriage in their presence, before the parties to be Married have been published according to Law [1646]."

Cause of Death Leads to Longer Lives
By the nineteenth century Massachusetts was in the vanguard of the public health field, thanks to Lemuel Shattuck. A schoolteacher and bookseller earlier in life, Shattuck was grieved by several deaths in his family caused by communicable diseases. He realized that in order to control these diseases, a systematic study of public health statistics was required, and so he was instrumental in creating a system by which to study and track public health. Following the lead of England and Wales, Massachusetts passed the first state vital registration law in the United States in 1842. Shattuck was later summoned to Washington to design five of the six census schedules in 1850, which then enabled agencies to track health and demographic trends and start to improve sanitary conditions. So, by the 1850s, just in terms of vital records, Massachusetts had town records (births, deaths, marriages), church records (baptisms, publishments, marriage intentions and marriages with an occasional burial), state records (births, deaths, marriages). There can be considerable overlap and duplication in these records, or there can be absolutely nothing at all!

In the early twentieth century the "official" series of vital records books was published. They are sometimes called "the tan series," because most were bound in tan cloth. These included vital records from about 200 of the 351 towns and were compiled using town clerks' records, church registers, gravestones, family bibles and other private records. The individual towns compiled them and they were published individually, though most of the manuscripts were deposited at the State Archives. Towns that are missing from this series, especially in the western part of the state, may be found in the Corbin Collection, which has its own set of pitfalls.

The mid-twentieth century brought us microform publications, and thanks to the Family History Library microfilms and Jay Mack Holbrook's series of microfiches, many of the original town and church records are available. Of course, the New England Historic Genealogical Society is probably the third largest genealogical library in the country, so that is an enormous benefit to the Massachusetts researcher, as is the American Antiquarian Society.

But now we find ourselves in the twenty-first century facing a multitude, of both source types and source media to consult. Many of the above sources exist not only in original and printed form, but in microform, on CD ROMs or in subscription (or free) databases somewhere on the vast worldwide web. Because many people know about the abundance of records here, and that they have been published and widely distributed, it is assumed that genealogical research will be easy. This is sometimes true and makes genealogy more accessible to amateurs and the casual family historian. But  as in every state, courthouses burned, basements flooded, messy scribes used highly acidic paper and ink that burned right through the page. Four hundred years of small town life has provided many opportunities for purging of unsavory family records. Attempts at consolidating information have fallen short of the ideal, and the professional is left to sift through hundreds of sources. Sources found online can be frustratingly vague when stating their own provenance, even when they are digital images of originals.

Source Overload: Consult me! No, Look at Me! Over Here, Read Meeeee!
A survey of the existing literature isn't always so quick in Massachusetts. You can't, for instance, just jump into "the tan series" of published vital records and expect to find the a birth in Easton in 1833, because Easton did not participate in the official series publications. Therefore, neither should you search in NewEnglandAncestors.org's "Mass Vital Records to 1850" database. The FamilySearch pilot site has a database with Easton vital records, but does not give detailed source information. The Family History Library has filmed some records, and Holbrook has done a fantastic job of filming and breaking the information into reasonable sections. In addition, Jay Lucas and David Lambert have been transcribing the Easton vital records for years in the Mayflower Descendant. You have to know how the literature was compiled and not just go by the title of a book, series or database. All can be misleading.


But pain is relative, so when the going gets tough and casual family researchers gets stuck, they call upon professionals to help them break through their brick wall. While we are fortunate to have a plethora of sources to consult, we must take care! There are conflicts in different versions of these records, and segments that have been lost, so that a diligent search turning up no information is not necessarily a negative result. It is easy to get side-tracked, but it is always best to search out the original form of a record, and the derivative copies can lead you right to them.

Massachusetts is abundant in the usual genealogical sources like probate, land, diaries, family letters, account books, tax lists, census, military records, naturalization, and more., But nothing can beat those direct evidence tidbits and dear friends, vital records: originals, clerk duplicates, later clerk copies, DAR compilations, extractions, transcriptions, photocopies, typescripts, index cards and more iterations than you can name. Just remember, it's not as easy as it may seem!

Flag-Waving

Memorial Day used to have a different feel to it and I'm not sure if that's because I have grown up or times have changed. I remember teachers in school using it as a springboard to discuss a plethora of subjects––patriotism, geography, war, loyalty, compromise, religion, history, tolerance and medical curiosities. We sang patriotic songs in music class. We read proclamations aloud at solemn school ceremonies. Widows and mothers wept. But the parades were big and loud, and men were proud of the part they had played in protecting the country and fighting for freedom. And we were proud of them. It was easy to confuse the bass drum's reverberations in your chest with your excited heartbeat. Two of my greatest life passions were forged at those Memorial Day parades: music and history. We were all on the same team and it felt good. It all boiled down to the flag in my young mind: the bigger the flag the happier and safer we must be. We gathered together underneath it, one people, one goal, one pledged allegiance, secure and calm.

I was born in 1955, ten years after World War II ended. Our life was comfortable, my world safe, and most of what I knew about the outside world was brought to me courtesy of whitewashed images on television and in the movies. My parents presented the rest in an optimistic, dumbed down, yet stiff-upper lip fashion. People were kind to me and I learned to be kind to others. There was nothing we couldn't "rise above."

Early imprinting: Grandma Barnes with two equally patriotic pals by her huge flag!

From that vantage point the nastiness of war seemed more unfortunate than horrific, yet we knew there was more. When kids are curious, uneasy or scared they are likely to play their way to some resolution. Consequently, both boys and girls played games of war, swooping around making bomber noises, diving into makeshift kid-bunkers, attacking the enemy on their weak right flank (Mrs. Welch's iris garden). We re-enacted grade B "cowboys & Indians" films, and the younger you were, the more likely it was you'd get the role of the scalping, whooping wild Indian. We used to don pretend gas masks before attacking a stockade fort, mixing Indian massacres together indiscriminately with the Civil War and World War One battles. It was all about fighting, death and mourning, and always culminated in a jubilant ceremony in which the winner slowly raised the American flag over his or her conquered territory. The flag was the resolution of the problem, symbol that all was once again right with the world. No need to fear.

Jared FitzGerald in Vietnam 1965

My oldest brother went to Viet Nam when I was in elementary school. I still didn't have much use for history or wars and much preferred playing house or dolls, and school. I couldn't figure out why men fought all the time instead of just working things out. But of course, Viet Nam changed the perspective of the entire country, not just baby boomers, and nothing was clear any more. The war seemed unwise to my immature mind, but it was scary, and I mostly turned away. I wrote goofy letters to my brother, listened to the occasional reel-to-reel tape he would send, and boasted about him being in the Air Force to anyone who would listen. All I knew was that my brother was in danger and many civilians were dying right along with soldiers. Oh dear. Hard to raise a flag over slaughtered women and children. Still, the flag was a comforting reminder of the freedom we were able to enjoy. It represented our ideals, not stark reality. You don't only wave it when times are clear and solutions easy. You wave it to show that as long as we continue to be a team, with common goals and compromise, we'll be proved right and all will work out–the founding fathers will be vindicated. I waved the flag, supported the veterans and was very, very grateful when my brother returned home. My other brother came of age later in the war, when things were not going well and it was apparent to many that it was an unwise war. He managed to avoid the draft. I understood how he felt, as well, but never stopped waving that flag. 

Today Memorial Day today seems rife with anger and accusation, one political party constantly accusing the other of sowing seeds of revolution. The memories are fresh and raw, and it's the veterans themselves who weep while recounting their experiences and mourning their fallen comrades. Waving the flag can seem filled with vengeance and hatred for the enemy, rather than a common rallying cry. People carry on banale conversations during the services, completely oblivious to why they have even joined together this day. This year, as a prayer was being offered, a man behind me said, "So, how's the potty training going?" 

Memorial Day 2010, "Family Planting"

While planting flowers at the cemetery this weekend it occurred to me that my strong positive feelings toward my country and my flag are ignored by many in the country. Half of the country believes that because I am a Democrat I must hate the flag, hate America, love communism, want the downfall of the United States. How can this be? I thought we were on the same team? I wave my flag more frantically. "I'm with you! We're on the same team!"

OK, yes, I have a thing about flags. I like big ones, and I'm going to continue to wave mine as long and hard as I can. After 911 I got a gigantic one that had flown over the US Capitol and donated it to my DAR Chapter when my term as Regent was up. I have little ones that I like to put in my garden on appropriate holidays. But I have grown up and now see that the flag is not a wand: waving it does not banish problems: that will take some growing up for all of us. It's time to stop the name calling, put on our thinking caps and come up with some positive solutions. Wave a flag to show your solidarity with the basic values of American culture. E Pluribus Unum!

With my brother Tim, by Jed's grave, two flag-waving Democrats.

Gravestone of my Irish grandparents, Patrick J. and Annie J. (Sullivan) FitzGerald, and two of their children, Mary and Frank. Daughter Theresa and her husband Hugh Bradshaw are listed on the back of the stone. Mt. Pleasant Cemetery, corner of Chestnut and Mystic Streets, 70 Medford St., Arlington, Massachusetts.

Early Fan Club

Genealogists in the know follow Elizabeth Shown Mills's teachings. She has learned, through hard work and great insight, techniques to help with brick wall problems. One that I particularly adore is the Friends, Associates and Neighbors concept, wherein you examine not just the ancestor presenting the brick wall, but extend the search out beyond him and his family to his Friends, Associates and Neighbors (FAN). The concept of studying our Irish ancestors' neighbors, witnesses on documents, godparents and fellow church-goers is invaluable when the townland of origin proves elusive. Maybe your great-grandfather didn't leave many records, but his best buddy who he knew from the old country might have left a gold mine of information, and by researching that buddy, you will discover more about your great grandfather.

This technique works well not only with genealogy, but also in our personal lives. Recently I connected with two ladies who, 50 years ago, were my entire world. You won't find them in my genealogical papers, but my early childhood is jam-packed with memories and images about them. They were my best friends growing up. We only hung out with each other for a total of eleven years, but the impact they had on me was enormous. I moved near them when I was two and left when I was thirteen.

I think it is worthwhile to remember the impact that our FAN club has in our own lives. I was young when I played with them, and those memories get hazy and narrow in scope after 50 years! So when we chat via email, we exchange memories that one or the other of us had forgotten and it all comes flooding back. In this case, we are particularly blessed because their mother is a VERY young 83 years old. My parents are both gone and though I have two living siblings who remember things about Musket Road (named by my father, the gun collector!), I am just so tickled that my childhood second mom is still around. I hope to meet up with her this summer. I want to let her know that her constant, patient presence and supportive environment helped me feel safe and appreciated in this sometimes unwelcoming world. And I would love to hear her memories of that time.

So thanks, Maude, Joanne and Denise, for being part of my Fan Club, as I am part of yours!

Clients, Salt Lake City and the Ecstasy of Being

You may have noticed that I haven't posted in a while. This is because I've been overwhelmed with client work! I'm appalled at myself, but am redeemed by the subtitled theme of my blog – "juggling genealogy and life." I have not perfected this juggling (and am doubtful I ever will), hence the hiatus.

The genealogy "half" of my life can be subdivided into genealogy for profit; genealogy marketing; genealogy volunteering; genealogy self-education; genealogy research pro bono for friends, potential clients and good will; and genealogy research for my own family. Yet, even the genealogy bits are difficult to juggle, and for the past month, I've been focused almost entirely on genealogy for profit, aka, client work.

Towards the end of 2009 I worked on a very large client report –– the study of a Massachusetts master mariner. This was a second phase of research and I'm partial to this client, so I laid it on thick, devoted a lot of extra time to the project and created a lovely biography. As time went by, I became ever more frustrated because I had accumulated so much information in the early research hours that writing the report took much more time than I had allotted. Though the client was happy with the end result, I vowed never, ever, ever, ever to get caught writing after the research. It takes discipline to stop researching and start writing before the allotted hours are all used up. I believe this is a vestige of my early amateur years, when I could research at will, postponing the writing until I had more information. The biggest change I made as I transformed into a professional was to be ultra efficient with my time, which no longer belongs to me but to the client.

For the first time, in 2009, I started to accumulate a lengthy queue of clients willing to wait until I was free. So, when I finally sent the big master mariner report off on 18 December I felt a huge relief. When I resurfaced after Christmas I immediately set out to prepare for my upcoming trip to Salt Lake City.

I first visited the FHL last year in January and it became immediately apparent that I can operate in high efficiency mode there. It is well worth the expense of travel, room and board to spend a week researching there. So much at my fingertips, no travel between courthouses, vital records offices, libraries or other repositories!  It is exhilarating to have so much at your fingertips, every day. The billable hours just piled up and research proceeded at a pace previously unbeknownst to me so I decided then that it would become an annual expedition.

So after the holidays I created research plans for each client in my queue, sent out contracts, then revised my templates. I hit the ground running in SLC and even though I vowed I'd write as I researched, I couldn't and still can't quite get it through my skull that I should sit down and craft a detailed report with proper citations etc. when I'm in a places as fruitful as the FHL. Sooooooooo, I've been writing ever since I got back! And that's why I haven't posted in a month. But don't worry. This time I stopped before my hours were consumed. The lesson has finally sunk in for good, I think.

I spent years and years learning all I could about genealogy via any means I could acquire. I took the NGS Basic Course in American Genealogy, attended NIGR, IGHR, subscribed to countless journals, bought many, many books, subscribed to mailing lists, joined societies, and attended lectures and conferences. Then I spent two years pursuing certification and when I resurfaced a year ago, certified and raring to go, I was finally ready to conquer the world in the form of taking clients full time. I am there, I have arrived, and it's a load of fun. SLC 2011, here I come!

Wordless Wednesday: Unknown Wedding Group Including Mr. & Mrs Barnes

My mother's collection of photographs contained this gem, but I do not know who the people are, with the exception of "Mr. & Mrs. Barnes." Can anyone help?

Christmases Past - Trees I Have Loved

I've been using this photo as my profile picture on Facebook recently because it represents the magic I always felt as a child at Christmas. This was taken in 1959 when I was four. It was after Christmas because the gifts had been opened. It is the only photo I have of myself at Christmas, ever. In reality I think the occasion was actually the annual screening of The Wizard of Oz on TV. They always showed it on the Sunday night between Christmas and New Year's.

I used to get revved up in a complete frenzy of anticipated delight. It was the only children's movie I had ever seen and I loved, loved, loved it, even though the Wicked Witch of the West scared the wind out of me. I don't think I dared uncover my eyes until I was about eight or nine years old! Anyway, you can see the big upholstered chair near the fireplace. My father sat in that religiously, but abandoned it for the Wizard of Oz. Part of the evening's thrill was that I got to sit in Daddy's chair. We'd always have a big fire in the fireplace on Sundays, and that night we'd re-light it for the show. They probably took this photo of me because I was already psyched for it to start. This particular night, my mother stoked a bunch of logs and got a rip-roaring fire going. I don't know what happened to the fireplace screen, but at some point, a tiny ember made its way onto the big chair so that when I climbed into it, I got a stinging pain in my bum!  I must have screamed and cried, but all I remember is being highly insulted that the chair had bitten me, and then laughing with teary relief when I found out what it was and put my finger through the hole it left. My poor parents.

At the moment the photo was taken, I was gazing upon the tree with loving wonder. You have these childhood memories of big glorious trees with bright lights, shiny ornaments sparkling and glistening. Not quite what the photo reveals. Looking back on it now, we had some pretty pathetic trees. I just didn't realize it. My frugal father was not into wasting money on a tree when we could just go out in the woods and get our own. Problem was, living on the South Shore of Massachusetts meant there was not an abundance of what we think of as Christmas trees. Not quite the scrub pines of Cape Cod, but no great majestic evergreens of Northern New England or Canada, where most of us now get our Christmas trees imported from.

Instead, what we ended up with was a spindley white pine that could barely hold ornaments. I didn't even notice when I was little, but probably about the same time I figured out the Santa deception, when I looked to the trappings to produce the magic for me instead of Santa, the white pines didn't cut it. Ever stuck in the middle, my mother would buy a tree and tell my father she had paid only a quarter of the price she had actually paid, just so I could have a wondrous tree to behold. They got better and better in reality over the years, but the ones I saw in my early childhood can never ever be topped, except by an angel!

Tombstone Tuesday - One Litchfield Couple

Mt. Hope Cemetery, in the West End of Scituate, Massachusetts, is my favorite cemetery, and someday I hope to have my ashes buried there, beneath the soft pines. I have lots of ancestors and other relatives buried there, from parents and brother to GGGG grandparents, two of whom I discuss here. I just love how by researching a little bit a few scant letters carved into a piece of stone two hundred years ago can open up a window into your own past. My GGGG grandparents, James and Elizabeth (Litchfield) Litchfield are buried in the oldest part of the cemetery, towards the back.

In memory of

Mr. James Litchfield,

who died

Oct. 10, 1786:

aged 48 years.

In memory of

Mrs. Elizabeth.

wife of

Mr. James Litchfield:

who died

Dec. 29, 1835:

aged 91 years.

About the Stones

Despite the 49 years difference in their ages at death, these stones appear to have been carved by the same carver. They are the same size and have the exact same willow and urn decoration at the top of the stone, s well as exact side borders. And this stone carver was punctuation-happy! Not only is he rather free with commas, but he loved him a good colon! He uses capitals and italics in exactly the same way, so we are sure it's the same fellow.

About the Urn and Willow

This is motif that was most commonly depicted in the late 18th and early 19th centuries, when classicism was at it's height, and death was thought of in a more secular way, as opposed to the old deaths heads and cherubs used earlier. The willow and urn was popular for quite a long period, so precise dating by gravestone symbols is not possible. It is unlikely that James' gravestone was erected at the time of his death, though, because that was quite early for the urn and willow, even in Boston, and Scituate is a good 30 miles away. It took some time for the designs to spread out into surrounding communities. It is more likely that at Elizabeth's death, someone had both stones carved and erected.

About the Litchfields

There were billions of them, mostly congregated in the area near this cemetery. I haven't even begun to delve deeply into mine, but they are the ones who cause the most pedigree collapse in my tree. Elizabeth, wife of James Litchfield, was also a Litchfield: they were second cousins. Then, their daughter Hannah Litchfield, married Capt. Daniel Litchfield in 1806 and here we have the explanation of any odd traits in our family tree! We have the Litchfield hump, the Litchfield twitch, the Litchfield flinch... just kidding! The Litchfield wandering eye, the Litchfield stutter...

My aunt, Abbie Herberta (Barnes) Thompson, recently loaned me a most precious book. She had it bound herself, in 1981, from five incredibly detailed, accurate and useful pamphlets on the Litchfields written by Wilford Jacob Litchfield from 1901-1906. I promised my poor Auntie that I would index this tome and got started on it before going for certification, then I put it aside, but I must take it up again, because it's an incredible volume. Anyway, in it can be found transcriptions of all sorts of supporting documentation such as wills, deeds, warnings out, vital records, correspondence, diaries and more! It's a treasure trove. I just want to give a few tidbits here about my gggg grandparents.

About Joseph

He was born in Scituate 10 February 1738. He was sometimes called Joseph Brine or Joseph Jr. to distinguish him from his cousin Joseph, born 1734. The brine part I'm not sure about, but suspect either he spent time at sea or drank too much! . Not a lot is known about his first wife, Anna Gordon who he married in 1760. They probably had two daughters, Susanna and Anna, but the author had only just learned of them, and I'd like to study that a bit.

James served in the Revolution and on town government (Highway Surveyor 1771, Hog Reeve 1773 and 1776) and in the Litchfield pamplets [p. 376] is described by a descendant as being: "a man of temperate and industrious habits, of mild and retiring disposition, but much beloved. He was a farmer and a carpenter... It appears that he did not take an active part in local affairs, the care of a large family occupying his attention and strength until his untimely death." Regarding his death, the pamplet also states on p. 377, "It was upon this property that James was building a new house when overtaken by his fatal sickness." Oh, sickness? Really? Because later we find this tidbit of a footnote: "It is a common saying that his early death was caused by an illness resulting from an injury to his head made by his brother, Lothrop Litchfield, while the latter was in an intoxicated condition. James was engaged in building his new house at the time of the alleged assault." I love this author because he clearly tells us it is just gossip, but hmmmmmmm. Maybe it should have been Lothrop Brine!

Finally, we find that "At his grave there was placed in 1897, through the efforts of a great-grandaughter, Mrs. Mandana (Clapp) Morris of North Scituate, a bronze marker of the Sons of the American Revolution. All descendants of James Litchfield are entitled to join a society like the S.A.R." Mandana happened to live next door to my GG grandparents, Israel Merritt Barnes and his wife (Olive Litchfield) Barnes, who named one of their daughters Mandana after their neighbor and Olive's cousin.

About Elizabeth

Elizabeth was James' second wife. Elizabeth was baptized at Scituate on 4 November 1744, and she and James were married on 7 January 1770. On page 380 we read: "She is described by her grand-daughter, Mrs. Elizabeth Litchfield (Merritt) Merritt (born 1812, died in 1905), as a woman of sedateness and hospitality, and very highly patriotic. When the tea was thrown overboard in Boston harbor, it is said that Mrs. Litchfield threw her tea-pot against a stone-wall, breaking it, thus manifesting her displeasure at the levying of the hated tea-tax. After the death of her husband, leaving a large family and unfinished home on her hands, she had a part of the structure made habitable and there she brought up her family in an industrious and frugal manner. Lawrence, her eldest son, lived in the same house, and cared for his mother in her declining days. It is said that she was a remarkable woman for her time."

Of course this warrants much more research, but I think I'd need a lifetime to corroborate everything in the Litchfield pamplets. You can find it digitized now, at http://ia311318.us.archive.org/3/items/litchfieldfamily11sout/litchfieldfamily11sout.pdf

As a matter of amusement, look at this, available only in India! And you get a 61 Rupee discount:

The Litchfield Family In America

 (Paperback - Aug 2008)
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