Trends and Musings – GenealogyAtHeart.com

Part 1: The Dream, the Deadline, and the Diocesan Detour

How the NARA records arrive via U.S. mail – both sides were cut open but thankfully, the records weren’t damaged. This was a resend (Thanks, NARA-Chicago! because the U.S. post office lost the first set.)

Have you ever stopped to wonder what happens to all the records you’ve created over your lifetime, the birth, baptism, school, marriage, employment, and so on? Truthfully, I hadn’t either. Not until last summer, when I embarked on a new family adventure: dual citizenship.

A Quick Note Before We Begin

I’m currently partnering with a new startup, citizenship.eu, which helps U.S. citizens navigate the process of applying for dual citizenship. When I shared this with my family, my adult kids immediately asked, “Wait, why aren’t we doing that?” Umm… good question. So we all jumped in, and as the keeper of the records, I became the designated gatherer.

That’s when I discovered something infuriating: even though I already had most of the records we needed, the consulate won’t accept them. All documents must be CERTIFIED. In other words, I had to go out and get them all. Again.

We made the decision on a Tuesday in late July. I emailed the consulate that night and received instructions the next morning. Efficient start, right? I immediately submitted requests for records from places too far to visit in person (Arizona and Florida), and then started prepping for the in-person trek. I affixed stickies to each document listing the archive’s name, phone number, address, and hours of operation. My plan:

Tuesday – Chicago
Wednesday – Indiana
Thursday – Ohio
Two weeks, tops. I’d be done and have the documents. Right?

Ah, sweet optimism. Within days, that dream timeline was toast and by the end of the second week, I would’ve been thrilled to finish in three months. I’m still waiting for one! Why the delay?

Let’s just say I discovered firsthand that archival recordkeeping in the United States is a certified disaster.

And So It Begins…

My first unexpected hurdle? Tracking down my own church wedding record.

We were married at our university chapel, which has since closed, so I called the diocese to ask where the records had gone. They gave me the name of a parish to contact. I left a message. A few hours later, I got a call back: Wrong church. I was told to try another.

Funny twist, the new secretary and I realized we had a strange connection: our husbands had once taught at neighboring schools and knew each other. Small world. I sent off another email. No response. I called the next day and was told it went to spam. Okay… but if they knew that, why hadn’t they, you know, read it and responded?

Next email I received was that there was NO record. I was told someone else would need to look at it in a few days. Five days later, I received an email: “We found the entry, but we can’t read the handwriting, so we can’t create a new certificate.” Lucky for them, I had a scan of the original. I sent it digitally. Five days after that, a new certificate arrived in the mail except it was typed up with the wrong church.

Cue another email.

The Sacrament Shuffle

Next came one of our children’s baptismal certificates. But the other child, I was told the church refused to issue it because sacraments had been received “out of order.” Excuse me?

Turns out they had confirmation on record but not communion, so the secretary, apparently moonlighting as a canon law expert, decided she couldn’t issue the certificate. One quick email from me with the communion record attached, and that should’ve been settled. But the principle of the thing? Maddening. I later learned that many parishes separate the sacraments – one book for baptism and confirmation and a separate book for communion. I suspect that the church where the communion has occurred either didn’t send the info to the church that held the baptism record or the receiving church didn’t record it back in the day. I have now insured it’s fixed for eternity.

NARA: Fast Processing, Slow Arrival

I also contacted NARA Chicago to request emigration records. To their credit, they processed and charged my card lightning-fast. The problem? Nothing arrived. Ten days went by. I emailed them to ask if the records had been sent. My mail delivery is spotty at best, which is one reason I had planned to collect as much in person as possible. They had mailed them and resent. You can see how the postal service delivered the second set – cut open on both ends.

NARA Chicago, it turns out, doesn’t have ship manifests or census records and though those are free online, the consulate requires certified copies. That means hiring someone in D.C. to get them in person.

So far, no luck. My go-to researchers hadn’t responded probably because it’s not in their usual wheelhouse. The NARA-DC website is quirky and I was unable to request them online. I thought I might need to make the trip myself because of course I will if I have to! Stay tuned because next week as the saga continues with more twist and turns.

When the Universe Writes Back: A Halloween Follow-Up

As promised, my synchronicity streak isn’t done with me yet.

Bible Entry for Calvin DeWolf in Thompson Family Bible

Back in March, I mailed a request to the Cook County, Illinois Vital Records office seeking the death certificate of my husband’s second great-uncle, John Calvin DeWolf. He’s an intriguing figure. A cryptic entry in his mother’s Bible notes simply that he was “found dead in the woods in LaGrange.” That line alone opens a dozen genealogical rabbit holes:

Dead how?
Accident?
Sudden illness?
Suicide?
Foul play?

Why was he in the woods at all?
Where was he buried afterward?
Why has no obituary surfaced?

Online databases are silent. Newspaper searches cough politely and excuse themselves.

So I sent in my request… and then, nothing. Months passed. My check went uncashed. My mailman and I eyed each other suspiciously. I eventually chalked it up to a postal mishap.

Fast-forward to late July, when I traveled to Chicago to obtain several vital records in person for my family’s dual-citizenship pursuit. While there, I re-requested John Calvin’s death certificate. I handed over the form. I paid the fee. The clerk assured me they’d be in touch.

Every other record from that day has since dutifully arrived in my mailbox.

Except John’s.

And then last Tuesday, while writing the chapter on John Calvin’s parents for my upcoming book Echoes of Britannia, I footnoted the matter:

“Death certificate requested; not yet received. Someday, perhaps, the record will surface.”

I sighed, closed the my Word doc, and moved on.

Two days later, yes, exactly two, an envelope from the Cook County Vital Records office appeared in my mailbox. My heart did a little leap. Could this be it?

Not quite.

Inside was a Certificate of No Finding.

According to Cook County, they have no death record at all for John Calvin DeWolf.

So where did he die?
Was it reported?
Was it covered up?
Was it recorded elsewhere?

His half sister who owned the Bible at the time of his death and likely made the entry clearly believed he was found in LaGrange. The Bible entry says so. But the county has nothing.

The mystery deepens.

And the timing? After seven silent months, the response was generated on the very day I finally wrote about him.

Coincidence? Maybe. But these synchronicities love to show up when I start telling a story.

Of course, I’m not done with John. Next stop: IRAD, for coroner’s records, inquests, and investigations. Somebody, somewhere, documented what happened.

Because records hide.
But they rarely disappear forever.

Earlier this month, the same thing happened with my mom’s Cook County, Illinois birth record. I had requested it in person in Chicago in late July. They couldn’t find it which was no surprise to me as my mom and grandmom had both said the birth was only registered with the Roman Catholic Church, an accepted practice in 1918. On the anniversary of my mom’s death earlier this month, I finally received a response from Cook County. It was a record of no record. Thanks, mom! Sometimes are family tell us the truth and we can confirm it over 100 years later.

At times, family history feels less like research and more like a conversation across time. We chase records, but every now and then, the records seem to chase us back. These little moments remind me that discoveries don’t always happen in archives. Sometimes they appear in unexpected envelopes or on memorial pages when we least expect them.

They’re often hidden in plain sight, waiting for the right moment to surface.

If you enjoy reflections like this, I’ve begun sending a short once-a-month note to curious-minded family historians. You can join me by messaging me at genealogyatheart.com. It’s a quiet circle, and you’re welcome there. I’ve also begun a FaceBook and LinkedIN page so we can interact frequently. Hope you’ll join me there as well!

Happy Halloween, dear readers.
May the ancestors keep whispering and may you always listen.

Happy Halloween: The Synchronicity That Saved My Blog

My readers tell me, year after year, that my Halloween synchronicity series is their favorite tradition. Which is why, by August, I was in a quiet panic. The kids were back in school, stores were already pushing candy corn, and for the first time in my genealogical career… nothing weird had happened to me.

Nada. Zilch.

I considered scrapping the whole thing and writing a single line, “Sorry, folks, nothing to report this year” and calling it good. But that felt wrong. These uncanny little moments can’t be summoned on command, but I still held out hope that one would arrive just in time.

It did. On August 14th.

I was volunteering at the Association of Professional Genealogists table during the Jewish Genealogical Conference in Fort Wayne. Since I’d signed up for the whole week, I was allowed to attend a few sessions during breaks. I’m not Jewish, though occasionally my DNA results tease me with a percentage or two that disappears the next time I test, but I found every talk fascinating.

Meanwhile, in my own research life, I was deep in the throes of acquiring certified vital records for my family’s dual citizenship application. Two notarized forms were already on their way to Croatia to obtain my grandmother’s birth record. That left one gaping hole: my grandparents’ 1917 marriage record from Cook County, Illinois.

I had the index entry from Ancestry.com, names, date, location, marriage license number, but when I visited the Cook County Clerk’s office two weeks earlier, they couldn’t find the record. I paid for the search anyway, but they gave me no timeline of when they could do deep research.

At the conference, I mentioned my predicament to a fellow genealogist, who knew someone with database access. The news came back: my grandparents’ marriage record hadn’t been digitized. Neither had the record for the couple immediately after them.

Lost? Misfiled? Never returned? Theories abounded. One person even suggested they’d never married. (“It was staged,” she said of their wedding photo. To which I thought: Really? That would be an awfully elaborate prank for this couple.)

No one had a solid lead. And I needed that record, not just to prove the marriage, but to identify the church where it took place. Chicago city directories for the period were scarce. The Chicago History Museum couldn’t help. The Archdiocese would search closed-church records for $50 a pop, but that was a quick road to the poorhouse.

Then came my first odd nudge of the week. While exercising, I heard my grandmother’s voice in my head: Look at the back of the pictures. Sure enough, on the reverse of what looked like an engagement photo, there it was “Chicago Heights.”

I brought the photo to Sherlock Kohn, a fellow conference-goer and photo expert, who confirmed the clothing was period-correct. She suggested the Chicago History Museum for studio leads. I kept chasing, but the record stayed stubbornly hidden.

A second genealogist offered another tip: years ago, FamilySearch had donated pallets of old microfilm to the Allen County Public Library (ACPL). Maybe, just maybe, my record was buried there. I tracked down Adam, one of ACPL’s librarians, and he gamely searched the microfilm. Blank images.

At this point, you’re probably thinking, Lori, just search FamilySearch online. Oh, I had using the index with every permutation of the last name and around the date the marriage occurred, and nothing.

So I decided: I’d comb through every 1917 marriage image by hand. First, though, I made a side trip to birth records for my mom, two hours later, I had confirmed my mother’s birth was indeed only recorded by the church, just as she and my grandmother had said. (Cook County, Illinois later confirmed this – I got the “certificate” of no registered birth on the date my mom had died 24 years ago. Weird, huh?!

By then it was late. I was tired, discouraged, and dreading the thought of cold-calling every Catholic church in South Chicago. Still, before leaving, I opened the 1917 marriage film on FamilySearch, locked to home users, but accessible at ACPL. I scrolled to the end of one reel. No luck.

Then my computer glitched. As a non-resident, my ACPL guest account was on a timer. It flashed “10 minutes remaining” and kicked me out of FamilySearch. When I logged back in, I had 7 minutes left.

The next reel contained 1,278 images. No way I could check them all. So I did the only thing left, I scrolled, stopped, and clicked at random.

And there it was.

My eyes fell immediately on “Mary Koss.” Without even scanning the rest, I gasped loud enough to turn heads in the reading room. “Sounds like you found something,” a man seated across from me said. A woman down the row called, “We aren’t finding anything, do tell!”

I was near tears.

Adam hurried over. I showed him the record, and he smartly told me to write down the film and image number. Then he handled the printing as the machine wouldn’t cooperate (with help from a kind patron who wanted to donate her library account to me) while another researcher kept my computer from timing out so I could email it to myself.

Out of 1,278 possible images, I had landed on the one I needed, completely blind. Missed in indexing, out of sync in databases, invisible to every search I’d tried. And yet, here it was.

Thank you, Grandma!

And here’s a link of another uncanny find I didn’t have – ENJOY!

And to you, dear readers: Happy Halloween. May the coming year bring you your own uncanny genealogical coincidences – just when you need them most.

When Personal Secrets Shape Public Policy: A Genealogist’s View on Indiana’s Record Restrictions

Today, 1 July 2025, is a day of infamy in Indiana as the state legislature quietly enacted legislation restricting public access to birth and stillbirth records for 99 years—effectively sealing documents that genealogists, historians, and adoptees have long relied on to understand family histories and personal origins.

The bill’s sponsor? State Representative Gregory W. Porter.

On the surface, this might appear to be just another privacy-minded law. But scratch just a bit beneath—and a troubling pattern begins to emerge. Rep. Porter not only introduced the bill that passed, but he also authored an earlier version in January 2024 that died in committee. That persistence—combined with his background as he purportedly claims to be a Christian—might suggest strong moral conviction. But public records raise a different, more complicated possibility.

In May 2011, the obituary of George Warfield listed Gregory Porter as his son, while also naming stepsons and multiple relatives. In July 2024, S. Carmen Porter’s obituary—Porter’s mother—listed him again, alongside her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Together, these notices don’t just provide names. They hint at relationships that genealogists might recognize as misaligned: inconsistencies in surnames, generational overlaps, and unclear biological links. It’s the kind of thing we encounter every day in family research—and often, the kind of thing that becomes clearer when public records are available.

But under HB1148, those very records are sealed.

Here’s the ethical problem: it appears that the person most eager to restrict access to historical birth records may have personal motivations for doing so. He may have been shielding sensitive information not just about constituents—but about himself. That matters, especially when legislative actions have statewide consequences. It’s hard not to wonder whether this was about protecting Hoosiers—or protecting his legacy.

As genealogists, we don’t dig into family histories to shame people. We do it to understand them. But when lawmakers close off records that belong to all of us for reasons that appear to benefit only some of us, it’s our job to say: this is not acceptable.

Privacy has its place. But so does accountability. Here are the Indiana legislators who voted Yea for HB1148:

Sen. Alexander, Scott [R]

Sen. Alting, Ronnie J. [R]

Sen. Baldwin, Scott A. [R]

Sen. Bassler, Eric S. [R]

Sen. Becker, Vaneta G. [R]

Sen. Bohacek, Mike [R]

Sen. Bray, Rodric D. [R]

Sen. Brown, Elizabeth “Liz” M. [R]

Sen. Buchanan, Brian [R]

Sen. Buck, James “Jim” R. [R]

Sen. Busch, Justin [R]

Sen. Byrne, Gary [R]

Sen. Carrasco, Cynthia “Cyndi” E. [R]

Sen. Charbonneau, Ed [R]

Sen. Clark, Brett [R]

Sen. Crider, Michael “Mike” R. [R]

Sen. Deery, Spencer R. [R]

Sen. Dernulc, Daniel “Dan” E. [R]

Sen. Donato, Stacey [R]

Sen. Ford, J.D. [D]

Sen. Garten, Chris [R]

Sen. Gaskill, Mike [R]

Sen. Glick, Susan “Sue” C. [R]

Sen. Goode, Greg [R]

Sen. Holdman, Travis [R]

Sen. Hunley, Andrea [D]

Sen. Jackson, La Keisha [D]

Sen. Johnson, Tyler [R]

Sen. Koch, Eric Allan [R]

Sen. Leising, Jean [R]

Sen. Maxwell, Randy [R]

Sen. Mishler, Ryan D. [R]

Sen. Niemeyer, Rick [R]

Sen. Niezgodski, David L. [D]

Sen. Pol Jr., Rodney [D]

Sen. Qaddoura, Fady [D]

Sen. Raatz, Jeff [R]

Sen. Rogers, Linda [R]

Sen. Schmitt, Daryl [R]

Sen. Taylor, Greg [D]

Sen. Tomes, James “Jim” [R]

Sen. Walker, Greg [R]

Sen. Walker, Kyle [R]

Sen. Young, R. Michael “Michael” [R]

Sen. Zay, Andy [R]

Makes you wonder what they’re hiding.

When a lawmakers choose to restrict the historical record—one that belongs to all of us—we have to ask why. And when the answer lies in public obituaries and genealogical inconsistencies easily found by anyone willing to look, the motive becomes hard to ignore. What’s their next plan? Banning newspaper obituaries, online and published memorials, Findagrave/Billiongraves?

This isn’t about shaming a man for his family’s past. It’s about refusing to let personal discomfort dictate public erasure. Genealogists tell the truth even when it’s messy. We believe every family—every person—deserves to know where they came from. We know the damage that sealed records cause, especially to adoptees, descendants of enslaved people, and those separated by law, war, or poverty.

I’m not writing this because I want to expose one man’s secrets. I’m writing it because he’s trying to bury ours.

And I won’t let him.

The Disappearing Records: Indiana Genealogists Betrayed by Ancestry and FamilySearch!

I warned you.

Last week, I blogged that I would stay vigilant over record availability in Indiana — and last Saturday morning, my worst fears were confirmed.

When I tried to access the Indiana, Birth Certificates, 1907–1940 database from home, it was gone from Ancestry’s Card Catalog. Only the older birth records up to 1933 remained:

Alarmed, I drove to one of my local libraries in DeKalb County, Indiana to check if this was just a glitch with the home edition. It wasn’t.
No access. Nowhere.

Then I did what any professional genealogist would do: I asked colleagues around the country — and around the world.

In Michigan? Full access.
In Wisconsin? Full access. In Texas? Full access.
In California? Full access.
Even in Germany? Full access.

Everyone except Indiana still had the record set.

Indiana Hoosiers — the very people whose ancestors’ records these are — are now blocked.

And here’s the kicker:
Indiana’s new 99-year birth record restriction law doesn’t even take effect until July 1st.

There is absolutely no lawful reason for Ancestry to have prematurely restricted Hoosiers from their own historical records.

Why did Ancestry jump the gun? Who knows. But it stinks to high heaven.

And it gets worse. FamilySearch, too, has removed the Indiana, Births and Christenings, 1773–1933 database from its Indiana Wiki pages.

Last week? Still there.

Today? Gone.

Here’s what you now see if you go looking for it:

Shame on you, too, FamilySearch!

What You Can (and Must) Do Right Now:

SAVE EVERYTHING.
If you find a record, immediately save a copy outside of Ancestry and FamilySearch. I now maintain a separate digital file of all Indiana birth records I’ve located, independent of any online platform.
DON’T TRUST THAT THEY’LL BE THERE TOMORROW.
I’ve gone through my family tree twice to make sure I’ve captured every birth certificate between July 1926 and 1944. NOTE: Some were indexed wrong so play around and others were never included, my father-in-law, for example.
SPEAK OUT.
Let Ancestry and FamilySearch know that Indiana genealogists will not quietly stand by while access is stripped away without warning or legal justification.

The clock is ticking, and history is being erased in front of our eyes.

Don’t think this affects you because you have no Indiana family? Think about this adaption of Martin Niemoller’s poem with assistance from ChatGPT:

First they sealed the adoption records.
Then they erased the mental health histories.
Then they locked away the birth, marriage, and death records.
Each time, we said, “It’s just one set.”
Now the archives stand empty,
And we have no memory left to defend.

I will remain vigilant and continue to speak out to preserve all of our history.

Genealogists & Family Historians – This Isn’t Politics. It’s a Paper Trail

I typically don’t blog twice in a week but I received a reply to an email I had sent with the concern I raised about the quiet disappearance of historical records from several U.S. government websites. These weren’t obscure documents—these were public records I had accessed online before, copied, and cited. I even included the original URL and step-by-step directions. But today? “No such record exists,” I was told—unless, of course, I want to pay a fee and maybe someone at the agency will “research” it for me.

My library contact passed along to colleagues my email.

The reply? “She’s just being political.”

No. I’m being factual.

Here’s what’s happening, and it deserves attention:

Government agencies are quietly removing access to records once available online.
Researchers are being told those records never existed—even when we have the receipts.
In some cases, agencies are offering to retrieve them for a price. Same record different paywall.
When we raise concerns, we’re dismissed as overreacting or “politicizing” the issue.

This is not a partisan problem. It’s a public trust problem. If you don’t think this affects you, try sourcing a vital record for a family history project or accessing a land claim file for historical research. You might find a broken link—or worse, a dead end with a price tag.

If you think I’m exaggerating, feel free to test it yourself. If you’d like to email me, I’ll be happy to furnish the documents I accessed in the past—along with the original URLs. Try retrieving them now. See what you find.

Spoiler: It won’t be what it used to be.

This isn’t about politics. And if researchers stay silent, it’s only going to get worse. It’s about the deliberate erosion of public access, the rewriting of digital history, and the arrogance of institutions that think no one will notice.

Well, I noticed.

And I’ll keep noticing.

Because someone has to.

Sad Day for Indiana Researchers

House Bill 1148 has passed in Indiana raising from 75 years to 99 years the ability to obtain a birth certificate.

I am embarrassed to live in a state that votes by fake “fears” than by real truths.

I am sharing the ignorant letter I received from one of the state senators:

Office of Senator Greg Walker

Dear L S,
Thank you for your email regarding your opposition to House Bill 1148. At this time, I am in support of the bill’s proposal to expand accessibility to birth records for 99 years instead of the current 75 years.With the increasing longevity of individuals and the rise in identity theft, this bill is a necessary step in protecting against fraud. The expanded access will help ensure the safety and security of living persons’ identities.Again, I appreciate you reaching out. If you have any other questions or concerns in the future please feel free to reach out again.
Sincerely,
Senator Greg Walker
District 41
Indiana Senate

Here was my response:
Dear Senator Walker,
Thank you for your response. However, I was disheartened to read your justification for supporting HB 1148.
The claim that expanding the restriction on birth records from 75 to 99 years is necessary due to “increasing longevity” and “identity theft” is not only unsupported—it’s misleading. There is no documented evidence that public access to 75-year-old birth certificates has contributed in any meaningful way to identity theft. In fact, neither the Federal Trade Commission nor the Identity Theft Resource Center lists genealogical or archival access as a source of modern identity theft.
Further, life expectancy in the U.S. is currently decreasing, not increasing (CDC, 2023), and even at its highest levels, the 75-year threshold was still sufficient to protect living individuals. Your claim does not hold up to scrutiny.
Restricting access to these vital records undermines legitimate genealogical, historical, and medical research. Many state archives and national organizations—including the National Genealogical Society and the Records Preservation and Access Coalition—oppose measures like this for good reason: they cut off access to essential public records without any demonstrable benefit.
I respectfully ask you to share the data or studies you are using to support your position. If your stance is truly rooted in protecting citizens, transparency and evidence should be the foundation.

Of course, he didn’t respond because he has no proof. As my grandmother used to say, you can’t fix stupid!

And this country is being run by STUPIDS!

Want to know what else has been taken away from us in the past month?! I tried to go online to NARA for a Civil War document they had posted previously, a land patent at the Bureau of Land Management, and an old tax record from the 1700s – All removed. BLM wants you to pay for the record it now claims it doesn’t have.

Jokes on them as I hope, like me, you were smart enough TO HAVE SAVED A COPY of your government documents and remembered to source it.

I am strongly urging my fellow Americans to do the following:
1. If you haven’t saved the records you found by all means do so ASAP.
2. This is especially urgent if you have birth records in Indiana. I have noticed that some marriage records have also disappeared from Ancestry.com. Take action now.
3. Remain vigilant of bills that are floating through state and federal bodies.
4. SPEAK UP!
5. VOTE these fools out of office. EVERY.LAST.ONE!

My pioneer ancestors would have been appalled by these clowns. They founded Indiana to be less government. Don’t believe me? Read the history before they take that away, too.

There are now TWO bills in Indiana to severely cut funding to libraries. Why? Keep the peeps from knowing the truth.

I may be old, and a token female (Yep, been told that by politicians in my own town “We believe in diversity and we need to replace a woman with a woman.” So an old white woman is considered diversity in Indiana. Think about that for a moment. Keep just ONE woman on a board and the rest the big boys.) but I will not go away quietly. I will continue to RESIST and I look forward to you joining me.

New Year, Old Habits: 5 Genealogical Myths to Leave Behind

What a way to start the New Year!

Perhaps it’s just me but I’m having some issues with several situations that have arisen this month that makes me feel the need to share with all of you genealogy enthusiasts.

The weather has been cold, though the snow minimal (not complaining!). Since I’ve been house bound a good deal of the time (I don’t do cold!) I’ve been spending my days researching, writing, consulting, and watching online presentations.

Here is some nonsense that I’ve heard in just the past two weeks:

Regarding an indexed set of school enumeration records, the presenter emphasized there was no need to see the original because the presenter was certain the person who had indexed didn’t make mistake.

No – just NO! Everyone makes mistakes, whether intentional or not. We need to see the original. Indexing is nice and can be a short cut but it’s not the end all be all. Thorough research requires that we search for originals that exist.

2. I suggested to a presenter via the chat box that the organization might want to try to obtain club and society records to add to their list to digitize. The answer took my breath away – the response was, “We don’t THINK those records exist.”

Whoa – you don’t THINK?! I don’t want a THINK I want to KNOW. Do you KNOW if those records exist? If so, how do you KNOW? Who did you ask? Where did you look? When did you look?

Friends, this really hit a nerve with me as I’ve blogged before about trying to find school records for my husband’s grandmother only to be sent from Hobart Township to the city of Gary to the city of Crown Point to the city of Merrillville to Indiana University and then back to Hobart Township. Each person I spoke with in those locations suggested I contact somebody else. Turned out, the records I needed were at IU but in the Calumet Township archive. Why? I have no idea why someone would have filed Hobart Township in Calumet Township but they were there. So, if you are in need of records do not accept I THINK they are blah-blah-blah. Look there but keep looking and one day you will be successful. If you accept that the records don’t exist with no reason given for why they were destroyed you aren’t done looking.

3. I received a pedigree chart from someone that was beautifully done but when I inquired as to SOURCES, and questioned an odd name change, received the response, “I’ve been researching for 40 years and know it to be correct.”

Really? I’ve been researching for years, too, but that doesn’t provide me with some sort of privilege to say that my work is flawless and I should not be questioned. Readers – keep me on my toes, please. If you see something I write you disagree with let me know. We never stop learning and should be able to handle a difference in opinion and to explain our findings.

4. In discussion with a colleague, I mentioned I thought the relationship of a son to his father wasn’t sound. The colleague had asked me to review the information and that was my conclusion. I listed the reasons why I believed more research was needed. The response I got was, “You just don’t want to believe it.”

Umm, no I don’t because of the reasons I gave. If you want to believe it then why did you ask in the first place?

5. If you post on Facebook seeking help and you get a response, thank the person and not kill the messenger. Really, it’s not hard.

A distant family member posted about their frustration with a cell phone and how they got no help at the phone store. I suggested seeking out a tech savy kid as it worked for me. Here was the response – edited to not identify the person (because I’m writing from the heart and they don’t): “My kid is a tech genius… I was not looking for advice (as I have stated previously in this thread).”

Honey, please re-read your initial post because YOU DID NOT state you weren’t looking for advice. Two other posters gave you sound advice as well but you didn’t respond as you did to me.

Reminder to all – treat your family with respect like hopefully, you would your friends and associates.

Let’s hope February improves!

Genealogy At Heart Top 5 of 2024

Happy New Year. Let’s welcome 2025 by reviewing the top 5 Genealogy At Heart posts for 2024. They were:

5. Genealogy Research Tips and Tricks Part 1 (97)

4. RootsMagic Frustration (107)

3. AI and Translations (108)

2. Creepy Genealogy AI – An Update (114)

1. Printing Your Family Tree From a Genealogy Subscription Site (136)

12 Genealogy Lessons I Learned in 2024

Wow! Last blog of 2024 and what a year it’s been.

The best thing about genealogy is that you are constantly learning and growing. No one can know about every record set, historical period, or nuances of language over the years. Today I’m reflecting on some of the A-Ha moments I had this year:

AI has been the biggest game changer in my life. I use ChatGPT almost daily now and occasionally with Claude and others. It saves time and helps me think outside the box to solve problems.
Realizing that the Viking Pagans held on to their symbolism after converting to Roman Catholicism was amazing to me. Who would have thought the church would have allowed it? Even more surprising is that the pagan baptismal fonts are still used today by the Lutherans.
I also didn’t know that grapes don’t grow in Sweden so the Vikings traveled in the summer to the Mediterranean to buy wine. My family had vineyards there so maybe they bought Zinfadel from them. Always been a small world, right?!
Had no idea when the potato famine hit Ireland it also affected crops in Europe, hence many from the French German Palatine area migrated to the U.S. at that time.
While researching Ohio River pirates for an upcoming presentation, I learned that one of the most notorious, James Mason, got a Spanish passport because President Benjamin Harrison had given him a recommendation. Dear Ben’s sister had married the honorable brother of James Mason. Just goes to show you how different siblings can be even back in the day.
Did you know that identity theft occurred in the 1890s? It did and I’m still working on solving that one!
My husband is constantly kidding me about being a princess (which I’m not) because I’ve now seen the family castles in Croatia, Germany, and Great Britain. People are so worried about being safe today but it’s no different than in the past– we just don’t have a moat around our houses anymore.
I didn’t realize that there were jobs for lawyers regarding keeping a person’s coat of arms protected. Who would have thought that would still be needed today?!
Every time I look at my cats I just can’t get over their ethnicity and I wonder which ancestor in my husband and my past was adopted by my cat’s ancestors. Yeah, it’s weird, I know!
A good reminder that there is someone out there who knows the answer to whatever question you might ask and you just have to be persistent and patient to get the answer. I finally found a knowledgeable person who knew how to read old German script AND understood the cultural heritage. I needed to find someone who had both these skills to understand one little ole word in a 1834 newspaper article written in German in Cincinnati, Ohio. He learned that the custom had been brought over to the US which was also news to him. Collaborating with others helps us get the info we need and in turn, we help them gain insights.
Loved the easy peesy way to do genealogy in French villages – take a walk and look above the doors of the houses. Back then they engraved the date the house was built and who the owners were. I was able to quickly find my ancestral homes.
I am reminded almost weekly of how much our life has changed since the pandemic. Zoom seems to have been around forever but I didn’t use it before 2019. Makes me wonder what’s next on the horizon.

That’s one new thought for each month of 2024. Can’t wait to discover more new and exciting ideas next year.

As usual, I’ll be taking off next week and will be back in January with my top ten blog list from 2024. Have a wonderful holiday and I’ll blog with you soon!