Newbie Tuesday: Reconnect with the Living

Every website, every book, every magazine article for beginning genealogists all say the same things to get you started: Start with what you know and talk to old people.
Every beginning genealogist says the same thing: I don't know anything and I don't want to bother the old people.

In my head the conversation goes something like this--"Hi Roland? This is Maggie...Mitchell... your cousin...your dad's sister, your Aunt Joan? Yeah, she's my mom. Yes, Little Peggy. That's me. Listen, I know I haven't seen you since your wedding in 1971--and I was 6 at the time--but do you think you could drop everything so I can pick your brain for family information?" (Roland-if you're reading this-I don't mean to suggest you're old, you're just the eldest of my cousins. I'm 45; you're 17 years older than me. From the kids' point of view, we are definitely old. Love ya. Call me.)

The experts all say to do this before it's too late. So then the scenario in my head looks like this:
"Hi Mom, how are you?"
"I'm fine, honey, how are you?"
"I'm good. Hey, I was hoping I could ask you some family history questions. I brought my tape recorder...."
Dear God, no, not the tape recorded interview, I'm not ready to die. Am I dying? The kids think I'm dying. Did my doctor tell them something he didn't tell me??

This is why, in spite of everything all of the experts say, I still haven't spoken to my cousin Roland since 1971 and I still haven't interviewed my mother--well, I have, sort of. She keeps telling me stories of her ex-husband's family. That's a subject for another post.

Here's what I want you to do. Close your eyes (figuratively--I still need you to read) and picture your ex-husband's first cousin's child (your ex-first cousin once removed, by the way). You haven't seen this child since he was in diaper's at a Family Reunion in Winterset the year of the divorce. He sends you a Flat Stanley for a school project and asks you to dress him up and send him back with a little information about where you live. Do you think to yourself who does this kid think he is? Do you tear Flat Stanley into pieces and put the pieces in the shredder and then burn the shreds? Of course not. More than likely, you say "Awww..." and participate in the project (maybe after an apologetic email to the teacher for being late returning it). It's the same thing when it comes to talking to your relatives about family history. These are people who, even if they haven't seen you since the Nixon administration, remember your connection and, on some level, love you, because that's just how blood is.

My niece contacted me with questions about her family history (which as luck would have it is my mother's ex-husband's family). I was thrilled. I haven't gotten back to her because my own perfectionism took control of my brain. That's a subject for another post.

I'll make a deal with you. Get out your Christmas Card address list-remember last week, I told you you'd need it. You call an old family member and at least break the ice for a future call, and I'll do the same. Who knows, you might get to talking about family memories. Report your results in the comments below.

Oh, and send back Flat Stanley before summer vacation....

Wecipe Wednesday: No Bake Cookies

No Bake Cookies
My darling 15 year old son makes these all the time! I have shamelessly stolen this recipe from The Berlin Serviceman Ward Relief Society Cookbook which was put together in 1987. Luann Spooner Long submitted it for the cookbook. Where it came from before that is anybody's guess. Because my kids grew up on these, and L. makes them for us three times a week, they are part of our family culture.

1/2 cup (1 stick) butter (I recommend using real butter)
1/2 cup unsweetened baking cocoa
1/2 cup milk
2 cups of sugar
1/2 tsp. Salt
1/2 cup peanut butter
1tsp vanilla
3 cups rolled oats.

Bring first five ingredients to a boil. Remove from heat. Stir in remaining ingredients. Drop by spoonfuls onto wax paper. Let cool. Enjoy and comment below.

Newbie Tuesday: Learn from My Mistakes

When I was just starting out doing family history research, I flitted. I was a flitter. I duplicated a lot of effort. I didn't keep track of any of my sources. I made unfounded assumptions. I bounced from name to name and from search to search. You know that crazy blonde chick in the "Safety Dance" video? That's what I looked like doing genealogy.

Then, like a lot of folks who've had a conversion experience, I went gung-ho the opposite direction. I deleted everything off my hard drive and started over. I didn't even record my own name without making sure I had personally examined my birth certificate first.

To all beginners out there, allow me to quote my mother: "Do as I say, not as I do."

Prime Directive-- LIGHTEN UP!!! There are no Genealogy Police. If you're not having fun, what's the point?

I'm going to assume you know absolutely nothing and you are starting absolutely from scratch. I'm going to help you get started right and proceed in a reasonably orderly fashion. To my friends who are much, much more experienced and adept at Family History than I, please feel free to add any corrections or rebuttals in the comments below.

Before you begin your family history quest, you're going to need some tools.

1. Paper and pen--25 cents.
2. Some sort of dedicated Family History receptacle-like a 3-ring binder, banker's box, milk crate, section of filing cabinet.
3. Pedigree Chart--download one free here: http://familytreemagazine.com/upload/images/PDF/ancestor.pdf
4. Family Group Sheet download one free here: http://familytreemagazine.com/upload/images/PDF/familygroup.pdf
5. It is also extremely helpful to have some sort of genealogy software. There are lots of free and trial options available. Just Google "genealogy software" and you'll get loads of reviews and links to downloadables. My advice is to hold off on spending money. Try some freeware options first. http://www.legacyfamilytree.com/ or http://www.familysearch.org/eng/paf/ are great for PC. Mac users...good luck...I coughed up $99 for Reunions 9. There are some cheaper options. See item 1 above. Do not get stalled at this step. Remember the Prime Directive???
6. Your Christmas Card Address list.

OK? Good.

Now, starting with yourself as person 1 on the pedigree chart, fill in what you know and work backwards.

Parting thoughts on conventions: Females always get listed by their maiden names. To avoid confusion between dates like May 11th and November 5th, dates are listed like this: 11 May 1920 (four digit years please--centuries fly by).

Do you have your full name, birthdate, birthplace, and if applicable, marriage date and place down? Hooray! That's one generation done! Now go call your mother, she misses you.

Tender Mercies: Still Here

So here it is, May 22, 2011, and I wasn't taken up in the Rapture. If you're reading this, I assume you weren't either.

End-time prophesies have been a topic of discussion at work this week. My thinking on this matter is this: if in Matthew 24:36 it says "But of that day and hour no man knoweth, no, not the angels of heaven, but my Father only" what makes anybody think they are entitled to insider information? As Lisa Grant put it in a report for the Onion, "Hmm, sounds a little fishy. I'm going to have to hear some Bible passages with extremely vague allusions and see some inscrutable numerology before I believe this." (http://www.theonion.com/articles/world-to-end-saturday,20500 ) 


Numerologically speaking, when my kids dial MOM on their cell phone, they press "666". And yes, they have accused me of being the Beast.

I was talking to my Young Women's class this morning. I mentioned to the girls that the three questions that philosophers have been trying to answer since the beginning of time are these: "Where did I come from?", "Why am I here?", and "Where do I go when I die?".

The girls looked at me as though I had just sprouted a third eyeball. Really? That's what philosophers have been wrestling with? Why didn't they just ask us? We have been taught the Plan of Salvation since we were tiny. My girls have absolute confidence in their divine identities. Recognizing ourselves as literal children of a Heavenly Father makes mortality, well, livable.

Is the end coming? Yep. When? It's closer now than ever.

Gentle Reader:

Blogger ate my blog! I have just reconstructed it and returned it to the interwebs for your enjoyment. Luckily, I saved the article in my document file so I could repost it.

If, Gentle Reader, you commented on the previous iteration of Maggie Sees Dead People, I would greatly appreciate it if you would re-post your comment. I don't want to lose any of your input.

Thanks for stopping by!

I See Dead People

I see dead people--not like the creepy little kid in The Sixth Sense--but I see dead people all the time. 

My first bite from the genealogy bug came when I was in the 4th grade at Algoma Elementary School. My teacher, Miss Mateju, assigned a research project and oral presentation on any subject we wanted. I chose genealogy.

This was 1974--two years before Alex Haley's mini-series Roots triggered a nation-wide genealogy fad. My father, who exemplified life long learning, was making a study of heraldry. I looked through the books on his nightstand and wondered what kind of caber-tossing, kilt-wearing, bagpipe-playing folk the Mitchells were.

I'll tell you; I still don't know.

I don't remember a thing about the actual 4th grade assignment, but I do remember spending many summer days riding my bike to cemeteries in our town. I would enjoy the cool peacefulness. I would pick the moss out of the carvings to find the oldest stone, the person who lived the longest, the baby who died the youngest, people who died on their birthdays, most unfortunate name (Butt is still the winner).

This childhood game served me well in 1996 when I was asked to help with the name extraction program for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. My assignment was to take photocopies of microfilmed images of hand-written death certificates from Cincinnati, Ohio, 1930, and transcribe the information in very tidy printing onto cards. This information would later find its way onto the searchable online databases that we love so very much. This is when dead people started to talk to me (no I do not need to increase my dosage--I checked). 

Sometimes the penmanship would be very difficult to decipher. Sometimes the old fountain pen would have dripped, the record would have been damaged, and the information would be obliterated or otherwise unreadable. Just as I was about to write “M?n,” these angels would look over my shoulder and whisper “his name is Morgan.” 

Dead people want to be found--especially by their beloved corporeal family members who take the trouble to look. If you’ve ever shouted “Woohoo!” in a quiet Family History Center, you know exactly what I’m talking about.