We Still Need Family History Centers!

We still need Family History Centers!

One of the most frequent comments I get concerning genealogy is this,

"Do we really need Family History Centers anymore?"

A resounding Yes!!!

I believe we do.  

Let me show you one of the reasons why.

Right now, I am in the middle of preparing to go to RootsTech2016.

I am taking several hundred photos to run through scanners that will quickly upload the photos to my computer.

I saw these in action last year, and I knew this would be one way to conquer the mountain of photos that are making me feel quite guilty.

This photo is from a previous post showing how I will scan them, several at a time.

But...

not everyone is going to RootsTech.

Or to the Harold B. Lee Library in Provo, where they have high-speed scanners, too.

They may not belong to a warehouse club, or have one near to them.

Or, they may not even have a scanner at home.

They may not even be able to afford a scanner.

All is not lost!

After a recent conversation with Pat Richley-Erickson, she asked if I would write a blog post about scanners that are available in most of the Family History Centers that I have seen.

This Lexmark scanner is available in our local Family History Center in Mansfield, Ohio.

It is an amazing machine that all of our computers print from.

And, patrons can scan on it, too!

And, this is a stack of photos I brought out to show how easy it is to use.

Notice that they are in a mess.

Excuse me.  You know you have one, too.

The sign-in screen shows two icons that you may tap on for your work.

Copy = making a regular copy of something that is printed off

Scan to FamilySearch = your photos, documents, etc. are scanned directly to your FamilySearch account.

That's right! 

Directly to your FamilySearch account.

You will be asked to enter your Username and Password, 

just like when you sign into FamilySearch online.

Hint:  The screen size is similar to that of a small tablet.

If you have trouble, bring a stylus with a rubber ball on the end,

or simply use a pencil eraser.

Click the one you want.

For this purpose, I clicked on "Photo".

The directions couldn't be more clear.

Wait just a few moments.

It let's you know when the scan is complete.

And, look!!

It joins all of the other photos I have scanned into my account.

Off to the left, you will see a list that I didn't take take a photo of.

It is simply a list of albums that I can drop those photos right into.

Now, this may not seem like that big of a deal when there are many different ways to scan photos and upload them to different websites.

But, it is a big deal if you don't have a scanner.

Or don't have a Big-Box store nearby.

Here is a similar article from the FamilySearch Blog:

Upload Documents

Just where have you been?

What happened to my grandmother's aunt would never happen here.

I'm telling you, it would never happen here.

This is my line:

Peggy --> Ida --> Bertha --> Celia

This is Celia Moore Gearheart and her daughter, Bertha Gearheart Stevens.

Bertha is my mother's mother.

Celia had a sister named Cora, and she married Doctor William Campbell.

And, he walked away for sixteen years.

Or, maybe it was thirty years.

Several years ago, I came into possession of my mother's journals.  

She was not an educated woman, neither was she uneducated.

In one of them, she recounts the story of Doctor William Campbell.

I have left all of her spelling the same.

You can figure it out.

From the journal of Ida Stevens Clemens

About 1956

"I Ida Clemns have wrote all the Family History I can remember about my grand parents I hope I may be able to find more soe where.  My Grand mother come over in Ky from Ironton Lewarnce Ohio and mett my grand Father and that were married thay help to raise hir sister to children Thelma & Delmer Campbell there mother Cora Moore Campbell his Husband Will Dock Dr. Campbell.  he went away for 16 years before he come back no one nowed Where he went too he come back home and he & aunt Cora went to house keeping and thay lived at Limestone Carter till he Died he was away from home to see some friend of his Koon Moore and he fell of his horse and never did talk any more and he Died at my Grand Father house at Limeston carter Ky.  he was buried at my father Corb Stevens homestead cemetary at or near Lawton Carter Ky. and his wife cora was burred there too and his daughter Thalma Campbell Collins Johnson.  by Ida Stevens Clemens"From the journal of Ida Stevens Clemens

My mom often talked about this scenario, saying that Aunt Cora never asked a word about where he had been.  They just started up where they left off.

I'm telling you, that would not happen in this house.

There would be a lot of explaining to do, 

and if you aren't going to talk... then you're going to listen!

In some of mom's belongings, I ran across this article that she had saved, entitled,

"The Roving Doctor of the Hills"

by Arthur A. Moore

Cora's maiden name is Moore, so this man must be connected in some way.

Plus, a distant cousin of mine uploaded the article onto UsGenWeb.

The Roving Doctor of the Hills

The article states that he was gone for thirty years!

I know that a common mistake that we, as genealogists can be guilty of is something called

"presentism"

which is when we place today's present values 

to interpret situations of the past.

I can't help it in this case.

The article states that he went on practicing medicine all over the southern states, and even across Texas, into Mexico.  I don't know how believable all of the article is, but what I do know is

that he was gone an awful long time!

They had two boys, which Cora must have continued to raise, along with the help of her parents.

He didn't live long after returning home, for he fell off his horse after going to visit Koon Moore.  

He never regained consciousness, and died.

Thelma (daughter), William, and Cora Campbell

Brown Cemetery, Lawton, Carter Co., Kentucky

We never knew why he left, 

and we sure don't know why he came back.

Walkin' the Floor

Most of my ancestors are from eastern Kentucky.

It is part of Appalachia (apple-atcha).

Though some came from the Tidewater region of both Virginia and North Carolina, most came in through the Philadelphia, PA area, settling in Germantown, before coming down the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia with thousands of Germans and Scots-Irish.

And, they are a force to be reckoned with.

My mother used to recount a "legend" to us.  

She said that her father's grandfather, Robert H. Stephens, had his body dug up, and the skeleton hung in Doc Brown's office.  He had assembled the skeleton together to prove he was a doctor.

Others could recall a story where a "hand" floated up to the top of a cauldron of water in the woods near a cemetery, and that Robert Stephens' grave had been dug up.

My line would be as follows:

Ida Stevens --> Corb Stevens --> Richard Stephens --> Robert Stephens

I repeat, these are legends that have been passed down through the family.

One day, while visiting my mother's last living sibling, we got around to the subject of Robert.

I asked him if he thought it was true.

He honestly didn't know.

But, he did say a picture of Robert had been found, and that if I wanted to see it, just go "up the road a piece" to Loreada's house.

If she doesn't answer, just peek through the front door window.  The picture is hanging on the opposite wall.

This is Kentucky.  

It's not wise to go peeking in through someone's window.

But, I thought it was worth the effort, so Mr. Kerry and our four children piled into the van and drove "up the road a piece" to Loreada's.

I told them to wait in the van.

I always do.

I knocked on the door.

There was no answer.

I knocked again.

There was no answer.

So, I gave in and peeked through the door.

And, a set of eyes were peeking right back at me!

I thought I might wake up dead.

Once she focused in on me, she exclaimed, "Law, it's Ida's girl!  Get yourself on in here!!"

As I have mentioned before, things move at a slower speed in the south.

You have to move at that speed, or people may be suspicious of you.

I asked how she knew me, and she said she would have recognized me anywhere, for I looked just like Ida - her childhood playmate and cousin.

And, she looked just like Ida, my mom.

We talked for quite awhile, and she told me about some research she had done on the family.

Then, I asked her about the picture.

She went and got it, and I was absolutely astounded.

Loreada holding the picture of Robert Stephens

Robert's grandson, Corb - my grandfather.

She didn't mind me taking lots of pictures of the picture.  I had an old Vivitar point and shoot, so I carefully laid it outside in natural lighting and took pictures from every angle I could.  This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for me, so I had to get it right.

Then, I asked her how in the world she had obtained it.

She said the people up the holler from her had been tearing up their flooring and found it there.

(Note:  Many times, people would use newspapers, magazines, and I guess, photos, to help insulate walls and floors)

Mr. Kerry asked me, "So, were they singing, 'I'm Walkin' the Floor Over You"?

Smart aleck.

Now, the legend of his skeleton will probably remain a mystery.

Although, while visiting my uncle a few years later, he received a phone call asking if he wanted Robert.  I was only half-listening.

He said to hang on, for Peggy's here and I'll ask her.

Someone was cleaning out a closet of an old building downtown and had found pieces of what they thought were a skeleton.

Did I want them?

No.

An emphatic NO.

I have enough skeletons in my closet.

Please, please bury them.

And, let whoever it is rest in peace.

The perfect bag...for me

Update on a previous post from 2016.

My shoulders hurt.
And, they hurt even more 
when I'm carrying all that I collect at a conference.

I need two hands.

I have yet to find the perfect bag.

By "bag", I don't mean the swag bag that is usually given out at conferences.  I have quite a collection of those, and use them for various purposes.

I'm talking a bag that is used as a purse.

I have taken tote bags, satchels, rolling bags (attendees trip over them quite often), cross-body bags, etc.

You name it - I've hauled it around.

If it's a larger bag, I tend to fill it up to the point that my shoulders are coming loose.

If it's too small, then I am always missing something.

While attending RootsTech 2015, I had a few moments to spare before meeting some genealogy friends.  I decided to wander over to Macy's at City Creek Center, which is a stone's throw from the Salt Palace.  I happened upon a sale, which included Kipling Bags.

I found the perfect bag!

This bag has everything I need.

And, it holds everything I need to bring to a conference.

The name of this bag is Alvar Crossbody Bag.  

Other colors and details may be viewed here.

It is extremely lightweight, and holds credentials, a wallet, my slim camera, phone, and my Android tablet.

All without breaking my neck and pulling out my shoulders.

This is not my everyday purse, nor did I buy it in a lot of colors.  

Black suits my every need.

It pays to plan ahead as to what you really need to take around with you, and just how much you can scale down.

I prefer to scale down.

I am old.

A Different Plan For RootsTech

UPDATE:  An now, another reprise from an earlier post in 2016.
Another change I will be making...
I am bringing some VHS tapes of interviews
that can be copied to a DVD.



One month from now I will find myself in Salt Lake City, Utah!

Kerry & Peggy in Utah - Feb 2015

Notice the lack of snow.

It is certainly not my first time there.  Kerry and his family moved from Los Angeles to central Utah when he was sixteen years old.  Many members of his family still live there.  We have spent years and years visiting family and enjoying reunions.

But, this time it's business.  I have attended four years of RootsTech, the world's largest technology conference.  Though I am certainly not in the ranks of a techno-geek, I am there to speak on other topics.

Last year, it was enormous!  There were approximately 23,000 attendees milling around.  The Salt Palace Convention Center has no problem handling the crowds.

The Exhibit Hall is one place where I love to spend time.  There are the usual vendors you see at most genealogy conferences, plus dozens more.

But, last year I saw something that made me want to set a goal for this year.

Scanning photos!

There was a young man sitting at a bank of scanners throughout most of the afternoon.  I couldn't help but be drawn to watch him, and finally had the nerve to ask him what he was doing.

I don't know if he had any interest in family history, but he sure had an interest in technology.  He parked himself at this bank of scanners and stayed until he was completed.

He proceeded to show me how easy it was to feed photos of any size through the scanner, where they would be loaded directly onto his laptop.  I believe he said they could also be loaded onto a flash drive.

Scanning away.

His mother came along with some more bags.  I asked how many photos they thought they would get scanned.  They both estimated 2800 photos!!!  He had been there 2 1/2 hours, and expected to be there not quite one more hour.

And, it was free.

I have photos.  You have photos.

I am overrun with a lifetime of photos.

My father took scads of them.

I have taken scads of them.

We raised a family of four children and took scads more.

Kerry recently had many from his childhood given to him.

It was time to do something with them, other than

filing by piling.

I began with my first box/bag.

I originally began with shoebox-type containers that I bought at Michael's a few years ago.  

They were divided into segments that I labeled:

Kerry, Peggy, Kerry & Peggy, Peter, Harmony, Jordan, Erik...

You get the idea.

I even had some photos of ancestors and tombstones.  

I started out well.

But the rigors of raising of family took over all of my good intentions.

Then, I discovered my dad's slides

There are hundreds and hundreds of these sides that are in metal brackets.

These were then loaded into "magazines" to be fed into an Argus projector.

As a note, I will not be taking these slides with me.  This project will take a little longer.

Then came the labeling.  

These are NOT sticky notes.  

They are simply part of a stack of colored notes that I have a lot of.

I have spent the past three days dividing these up into zippered bags that I have dropped the labels down into.  

This will not be their final storage arrangement.

It's what I am doing in order to put them into a wheeled backpack and take into the Salt Palace.

I will spend whatever time I can scanning and scanning.

Perhaps Mr. Kerry can take his turn doing some scanning, too!

The reason I am doing it this way is because we are driving, and I will have the room to bring such a project with me.  If I were flying, I wouldn't even consider it.

I have sat and scanned hundreds of photos with my Flip-pal, but at the rate I am going, it will be a long time before I wade through the thousands I have sitting in front of me.

For any photos that I have missed, this is what I will use to keep current on my project.

Plus, the last time I was at Sam's Club, I talked to someone in their photo department.  They have a similar sort of scanning technique that I will use at RootsTech.

Their scanner will hold about 200 photos at a time, and will be loaded onto a CD for a cost of about $2.28.  You may want to check your local big-box stores to see if they offer the same services.

So, I may be slow and very behind in conquering this photo dilemma.  But, this is a way for me to get the biggest part of it done, and promise myself to not let it get out of hand again!

He Will Live On Through My Words

You are never prepared to bury one of your children.

Mr. Kerry and I started out our married lives as most young parents do.  We were determined to show that we were all grown up.  We were both working.  We made the decision to move back to my home state of Ohio.  And, though we had suffered the tragedy of having a miscarriage, it wouldn't be long before a bouncing, baby boy would join us -- weighing in at 10 lb. 6 oz.!  We named him Peter William Lauritzen, taking the middle names of both his father and his paternal grandfather to bestow that honor.

The hospital dubbed him "King of the Nursery".

And, our lives changed forever.  We would also experience three more miscarriages, but have the blessing of welcoming three more children to our family.

Thirty years later, we would bury this son.

And our hearts grieved a loss like no other.

Peter had no spouse and no children.

It would be easy to forget him.  There would be no one to tell stories about having him as a husband, a father, a grandfather.  His life was cut short, and so would be the memories.

However, an article jumped out a me this past year that caused me to really stop and re-think this whole thing over.  I read it twice, and have referred back to it several times since.

It is called, "Loving Those Who Have Gone Before Us".  I invite you to read it here:

https://www.lds.org/ensign/2015/02/young-adults/loving-those-who-have-gone-before-us?lang=eng 

In it, a young man named Jerry is shot down in World War II at the age of 20, leaving no spouse or posterity behind.  He, too, could be easily forgotten.

I have decided that I will do exactly what the author of this article did -- I will leave a paper and document and photo trail that will lead to others getting to know Peter a little better.  A drug overdose took his future, but not his past.

Thanks to https://www.familysearch.org/  there are wonderful opportunities to let the world know of the wonderful young man that Peter was.  Though he didn't have children, he had plenty of nieces and nephews that can learn of him, see his face, and know of his goodness.  The memories that their parents have of their brother will not be the same as what mine -- their grandmother's will be.

It's a bit painful.  But, it must be done.  Every single person who has lived on this earth has a story that deserves to be told. 

They were once a baby.

They had a childhood.

They had a young adulthood.

Some may have dated.

They may have married.

They may have become a parent.

But, no matter what their story is, they are worth remembering.

Evening the score!

John Goolman Davidson was my 5th great-grandfather.

I have no idea where the name "Goolman" came from, but nearly everyone and everything references this as a middle name.

It has not been proven whether he was born here or in Ireland, but he resided his entire life in the state of  Virginia.  He and Mr. Bailey built the Davidson-Bailey Fort near what is now Bluefield College, Tazewell Co., Virginia.  It is likely that he traveled down the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia, along with thousands of other Scots-Irish.

John  was a cooper -- a barrel and firkin maker by trade.  He was apparently quite successful at his trade, for he had nearly $800 on his person when he was killed.

Firkin, which held 112 English hundredweight.

Apparently John had an enemy.  A man by the name of Mr. Rice had stolen a hog from him, and the case ended up in court.  He was ordered to pay John Davidson $8 for the hog, plus forty lashes save one, which did not go over well with Mr. Rice.  On a low scale, the equivalent would be near $200 today.

Mr. Rice vowed he would get revenge.

And, he did.

John had some business to take care of Rockbridge Co., Virginia, where he had formerly lived.  He collected money that was due him in the amount of $800 and headed for home.  Heading through Rocky Gap, he passed by a family on his way to Rockbridge County, but the same family did not see him return.

People soon went to look for him.  First, they found his hatband.  Then, they found where he had fed his horses.

Then, they found him.

His body was found at the base of a tree, where the blade of a hatchet had been struck into a white oak tree.  A gun rested on the hatchet.  Underneath those items was a fresh carving that said;

"Rice"

John's nude body was in bad condition and was buried there on the spot where it was found.  It was determined he died 

8 Mar 1793,

and a report was made to the governor.  It included several other massacres and captures, included that of Virginia "Jenny" Wiley.

 Several years later, a brass stirrup was found, it being recognized as belonging to John Goolman Davidson.

I love to visit the lands where my ancestors lived, and this one was no different.  So, I began to look for clues that would take me to the place where this tragedy occurred.  At the time, the only accounts I had were from 1933.

Mr. Kerry and our four children were taking a trip through the southern states, and I mentioned that I would like to swing through that part of Virginia and perhaps look around the area.  I stopped at the Kegley Room of Wytheville College, Wytheville, Wythe Co., Virginia.  It is a wonderful resource for southwestern Virginia, and the people were as helpful as any I would find.

Kegley Library, Wytheville, Virginia

One of the librarians and I spent quite a bit of time pouring over old maps from the area.  But remember, the directions I had were from 1933!

Finally, he said that it wasn't likely I was going to find the area on one of their maps, but perhaps some of the locals could help me.  He pointed us in the directions he felt good about, told us to be careful, and off we went.

We pulled up to a General Store.  I knew what was coming.  My people are from the south, but my husband and children are not.  So, I told them to sit still until I returned.  (Let me point out that I love my southern roots, but they must not be rushed.  You have to win people over, especially if you appear to be "foreign".

After some small talk about the garden, the hound dog on the front porch, asking about everyone's Mama, I finally asked them about John Goolman Davidson.  I had heard there may be a DAR headstone for him, and I would like to know if they had seen it.

"Law, honey!  My brother runs over it with his pick-up truck ever mornin' on his way to work!  It's just right up the road a piece."

Good grief.

This poor man gets robbed.

He gets killed by Indians (presumably hired by "Rice")

Then, he gets run over by a pick-up truck every morning.

The kids were hanging out the windows, and Kerry was just hoping I was still alive.  I directed him 'up the road a piece', and off we went.

We found it.

Can you see how close is it to the road?  

A pick-up truck actually drove past when I was taking this photo, and I had to swing my hips in to keep from getting clobbered.

And, the date we stood at this stone was 8 Mar 1993.  

That was not planned.

Not at all.

After a few moments, Kerry took the kids back to the van to allow me some time alone there at the stone.  It's on the border of West Virginia/Virginia, but it would have been Virginia at the time.

I looked at the hills...the same hills he would have seen just before he died.

I looked at the sky...the same sky he was looking at when he died.

I looked at the creek meandering through this small valley...perhaps coursing its way in the same path two hundred years earlier.

I looked at the trees...perhaps not the very same trees he saw.  

But, maybe some of them were.

So again, I have walked not just where ancestors lived and were buried, but where they actually died.

And, I saw what they saw.

Some backup sources:

http://www.geni.com/people/John-Goolman-Cooper-Davidson/6000000001904150942 

Johnston, David E., A History of the Middle New River Settlements, 1906.

Rice, Patricia, Historical Sketches of Southwest Virginia, 1968.

Schreiner-Yantis, Netti, Archives of the Pioneers of Tazewell Co., VA, pp 302-310