Oh, THERE you are!

I found my great-great-great-grandparents today in the 1841 Scotland census. This is not the first, second, third, or fourth time I’ve looked for them. But it’s the first time I found them.

Databases are tricky. Census records are available on many sites but they don’t index, filter, or display their information the same way. Add to it that names are spelled as many different ways as humanly possible, requiring searching endless variations but missing the one that actually was used, or relying on “fuzzy matching” to get multiple spellings in one go. It takes patience, persistence, and creativity.

Today I found them.

Robert Brookmire and Isabella McAusland married in Campsie, Stirling, Scotland, on 3 July 1840. He was a calico printer and his father John lived in Belfast, Ireland. Isabella was a spinster and her father John lived in Dunbarton.

In the 1841 Scotland Census, Robert Brockmyce, age 20, Eliz[abe]th, age 25, and 4-month old John were living in the Village Of Thornliebank in Lanarkshire. Robert was born in Ireland and was a Calico Printer Apprentice; Elizabeth and John were born in Scotland. All the men on their street were also calico printers, many born in Ireland.

Finding one answer leads to more questions: Where is Thornliebank? what is a calico printer? What else can I find about young John?  When did Robert migrate to Scotland from Belfast? What can I find about his father, John?

The fun of research isn’t just finding the answer, it’s figuring out how it fits into context, adding to the puzzle until it makes a more complete picture.

Liturgy Recharge

Six days a week I report to the local church at 8am. Five of those days are for work; Sundays are for choir and worship, though often members of the congregation ask me work-related questions because, hey, I’m there and I have answers. But that doesn’t mean I like it.

I also really miss liturgical worship. For forty years I’ve been an active member of the Episcopal Church, from a college church to a cathedral to a very high church and a huge historic church in Boston. I’ve sung in choirs, run stewardship programs, studied the Bible and church history, served on vestries, visited the sick, polished brass on altar guilds, been part of small groups, organized libraries, cleaned up kitchens after parish suppers, and served on search committees.

But no matter where we were, our worship followed The Book of Common Prayer. My godmother wrote when I was confirmed many years ago that the BCP “is still a tremendous source of strength, its prayers for quiet confidence, for raising of children, for those we love, for those in mental darkness, have been invaluable to me and I have never been without comfort and support.” She was a woman of great faith with a solid core foundation that shone through her life and relationships. I learned from her that the prayers of the BCP, said automatically so many Sundays, provide the needed words when the heart is full or hurting, beyond words but wanting to cry out.

Most of my churches celebrated communion every Sunday, but the Order for Morning Prayer is also beautiful. I found comfort in the ritual of the liturgy, of an order of service with well-chosen words for celebrant and congregants, with responsive readings and a lectionary that led us through the Bible on a 3-year cycle. With structure and symbolism, kneeling and music. I’ve missed it.

So today I took a needed day off from my own church to recharge at a local Episcopal church. It was a more contemporary service than I was used to, but the words of the liturgy were the same and I found I had forgotten none of them. We celebrated Eucharist, with bread instead of wafers and wine instead of grape juice, gathering around the altar. And we were sent forth with these words, “And now, Father, send us out to do the work you have given us to do, to love and serve you as faithful witnesses of Christ our Lord.”  I always liked being sent out to do the work of Christ.

Mostly, though, I could simply worship and not have to lead anything. I will not be leaving my current church but I will definitely be back. For I may not belong to an Episcopal church, but I am and will be an Episcopalian.

Sources, Information, Evidence

I thought I knew all about sources for research until I took the Boston University Genealogical Research Course in 2014. Genealogists are very particular (and picky) about types of sources and information contained in those sources than what I’d previously experienced. The term “primary source” and “secondary source” were familiar to me in my work life, too, but in genealogy, we have “primary information” instead of “primary source.” The whole reason it matters is to get to the type of evidence the source and information provide.

Not all documents are created equal.  When reviewing results of a search, it’s important to also be aware of the type of source you have, what information it contains, and what evidence it provides to answer your research question.  There are three different categories for each:

Sources:  containers of information, not the information itself. Tangible, stable

• Original records  – written report of an action, event, or observation
• Derivative records – transcribed, abstracted, translated from original record
• Authored works – biographies, genealogies, books, journals, local histories

Information: source’s surface content. Tangible, stable.

• Primary – reported by an eyewitness
• Secondary – hearsay; reported by someone not an eyewitness
• Undetermined – unknown origin

Evidence: building blocks. Intangible and changeable.

• Direct Evidence – one information item that answers a question by itself
• Indirect Evidence – set of 2 or more information items suggesting an answer only when combined
• Negative Evidence – absence [not lack] of information that answers a question [e.g., someone not included in a will that should be accounted for]

Example:

My great-grandmother’s death certificate is an original record, created at the time of her death.  The information contained in it was supplied by 4 people: clerk, doctor, funeral director, and family member. The doctor and funeral director provided primary information about date, time, and cause of death, and of where the body would be buried.  The clerk provided primary information about the state numbering system. The family member provided both primary and secondary information:  primary about address, name, age, marital status, but secondary about birth and parents, since the informant was her daughter and therefore not present when Jane was born.  Taken together, the death certificate provides direct evidence for the question, “when did Jane die?” but only indirect evidence for “who were Jane’s parents?”