52 Ancestors 2019. Week 3: Unusual Name - Ruhamah

Everyone has an ancestor with an unusual name, but when you are from the South.... where do you begin?!  My ancestors found it natural to name their children after ranks in the military.  Commodore Lackey. General Wilson.  Major Brumbeloe.  Seriously, these are their names!  You think searching ancestors named John Smith brings up too many searches, try entering General Wilson and see how many hits you get on actual Generals and not people with that forename! It's crazy.

I've already written about my great grandmother whose name is Ollie Ossilean Posey.  That name is unusual, but since I've already spotlighted her, I've decided to cross over to my husband's ancestry (in this particular instance, also in the South).  Ruhamah.

 Ruhamah was born in 1822 in West Virginia and died some time before 1900.  We don't have a maiden name for her, but in the 1880 U.S. Federal Census she is listed as Ruhamah Dent, the mother in law for the Lafayette Shiflett family.  Lafayette Shiflett and his wife Nancy Louthry are my husband's 2nd great grandparents.  Their son, Parker, is my mother in law's grandfather.  These are names we have known and have been documented for decades.  Ruhamah, however, was not known, and until the 1880 census was scanned and made available on line, she was a blank line on a pedigree chart.  (Thank you volunteers who scan images! And thank you to those who index those images!)

Armed with a last name for Ruhamah, we were able to search for further documentation.  What we have found is a marriage record.   On 1 October 1868, Ruhamah Laugherty married Jacob Deft in Randolph County, West Virginia.  Score!  We have a marriage, and we have a name she used before she was a Deft... but wait!  Her daughter's maiden name is Louthry.  That's awfully close to Laugherty, and since we know that oftentimes names can have various spellings based on who is doing the writing and who is pronouncing the name, it most likely is the same.  But Louthry or Laugherty, whichever way we want to move forward (and yes, we should always use a variety of spellings when researching), this can mean one of two things: either Ruhamah was married prior to Deft or her daughter Nancy was illegitimate.

If we go by her assumed birth year in the 1880 census, then in 1868, when Ruhamah married Jacob Deft, she was 42 years old.  Her daughter, Nancy, was 26 years old.  Nancy being born in 1854 would have Ruhamah being 32 years old.  So, this conceivably could mean that Louthry/Laugherty is from a previous marriage. 

In writing this blog post, I decided to do a new search on Ruhamah to see what more information I could find.  My search was not in vain.  In the 1860 census, we find Ruhamah's name transcribed as Ruamish on the census Index.  Looking at the actual record, I see the writing as Ruamiah Laugherty.  She is listed with her daughter Nancy C. (age 6) and son, Marion (age 3).  A son!  This is new!  This new lead will open up to further research on Ruhamah and her family.

But let's get back to her unusual name -- Ruhamah.  A search on Google lead me a baby naming site that states:  From Hebrew, meaning "the one who has been spared."  In the Bible, Hosea is told by God to name is daughter Lo-Ruhamah; later, God tells Hosea to call his daughter Ruhamah because she has been spared.  The name is commonly spelled without the final "h" in English, as well as in modern Israel."  www.babynamewizard.com

Ruhamah is such a lovely name! It is not one I have ever seen or heard before.  I have come across quite a few of these beautiful names while researching family history, that had I known of these names, my children might be going by something completely different today!  Then again... maybe it is best they have the names I did give them.  My own father, after having started his journey in family history, wanted to change my name to Hepzibah!  Hmmmm.... I think I will stick with Melyssa.

What unusual family names have you come across in your research? Have you passed those names on to your children?  Feel free to post in the comments.  I'd love to hear from you!

52 Ancestors 2019. Week Two: Challenge

I would say my biggest challenge at this point in my genealogical journey is archiving and sharing.  Let me explain.

In 2009, my parents tragically passed away.  Both of my parents were genealogists and well respected historians.  I was fortunate to inherit all of their research documents, photos, charts and books and articles they wrote.  In 2013, my grandfather passed away at the age of 97.  From him I inherited photos and letters dating back to the nineteen teens.  Fantastic! Right?  Yes, to an extent.  However, unless you live in a home that can serve as an active archival library, keeping and maintaining these treasures can be a challenge.

First, I tackled my parents' photos.  I scanned everything and began to place the images on Ancestry and FamilySearch where other relatives could enjoy them.  What good are they sitting in an album in a box in storage?  It was fun going down memory lane.  I saw photos of them with friends from back in the 1970s and thanks to Google and Facebook, was able to track some of those friends down and share the memories.  In return, I received countless stories about my folks that either were new to me or I had forgotten.  Hearing those stories was a blessing to me as I missed my parents intensely.

While at RootsTech2016, a gentleman who had heard I was at the conference tracked me down.  He was a follower of my father's work from when dad was Mayflower Historian General.  He heard my dad had passed away and inquired about the research my father had been doing on the Cooke family.  I had just seen some papers dad had on further research he was doing on the Cooke project and asked the gentleman if he would like them.  He was keen to receive them and I was happy to pass them along so that this man could continue the research where my father left off.

And then there were the photos and letters my granddad left.  The photos were easy enough.  Like I had done with my parents' pictures, I scanned and shared.  With all the photos I've inherited, I created Chatbooks and gave them as gifts to family members.  Now, what to do with the originals? I'm still working that out.  Some I have sent on to relatives and others I have placed in albums.  Some I have tossed.  I mean, who wants to hold onto albums of trips to Russia that has only pictures of places?  It wasn't my trip and they aren't my memories.  I asked around and no one wanted them.  You can't keep on to things just because your Granddad took the photo.  Still, it's hard to let go.

Now to the letters.  Treasures! I tell you that even the most mundane letters, when put together chronologically, tell a fascinating story.  My plan is to get all of the letters (and there are BOXES and BOXES of them!) put into an album, scan them into a publishing program and then transcribe them and have the book published with the transcriptions next to the letters.  Great!  Then what?  Where do we store these letters?  Offers to relatives come up empty.  My thought is to share them with the local historical society in the town where Granddaddy grew up.  I'm not ready to part with them today, but I won't always be around and I would hate for them to be tossed in some arbitrary clean up done after I'm deceased.

The saying is true: When a person dies, a library dies with them.  Sadly, the reality is we can't keep everything. We have to be discerning on what we hang on to. While the originals may never find a permanent home, the images will at least be there for posterity on Ancestry and FamilySearch.

Feel free to comment and share your ideas on how you have preserved and archived the items you have inherited.

52 Ancestors 2019 - Ancestor #1 Ollie Ossilean Posey

Ollie O. Wilson was born Ollie Ossilean Posey on 9 September 1892 in Reynolds, Taylor County, Georgia.  Her parents were Andrew Breckenridge Posey and Mary Julia Windham.  Ollie married Judson Chesterfield Wilson on 19 November 1905 when Ollie was just 13 years old.  Ollie and Judson had two daughters, Eleanor Katherine and Myrtice Lucille.  Ollie Ossilean Posey Wilson died on the 9^th of August 1977.

Ollie Ossilean Posey Wilson was my mother’s grandmother.  I first heard her name spoken when I was just seven years old.  My mother had recently joined the Mormon church and her interest in genealogy was piqued during her conversion to Mormonism.  Mother began a regular correspondence with her grandmother asking questions about her life and growing up in Georgia.  Family history became a life long passion for my mother and she passed that passion on to me.

The first ancestor I ever learned about was my great grandmother Ollie.   Her name was so unusual that I often asked about her and how she got her name.  Ollie Ossilean seemed to be an unusual name.  No one, not even great grandmother, knew why she was given this name.  Over the years as I have researched the census records for Taylor County, Georgia, I have learned that Ollie was a common name for girls, but I have yet to learn where the name Ossilean derives or why her mother, Julia, chose it.

I met Ollie in 1975 when I was around 8 years old.  My parents piled my brother and me into our car (without A/C) and we made the long trek during the hot summer from Denver, Colorado to Georgia.  I remember that trip well.  One does not forget endless car rides with no air conditioning!  Besides the heat and very few rest stops along the way, the trip was made memorable by our visit with Ollie.  She was a frail woman, small in height and weight, and had a very deep Southern accent.

My mother brought a tape recorder and conducted a thorough interview with Ollie.  I have this cassette tape today.  I am glad I had the foresight in the early 1990s to transcribe the interview and later convert the tape to CD.  Both my mother and great grandmother have since passed away and to hear their voices again brings tender emotions.  What it also brings is information over looked.  I have read the transcript numerous times, but it isn’t until you know the question you want to ask that you begin to look for the answer.

During our visit with Great Grandmother we were introduced to a man my mother as a child had called “Uncle Jay Bird.”  I was told he wasn’t in fact an Uncle.  In the South, family friends are often referred to as Aunt and Uncle.  Older cousins can sometimes be referred to as such, as well.  But back to the interview.  I was curious as to who this “Uncle Jay Bird” really might be.  How close of a friend was he or was there in fact a genetic relationship?  Reviewing the transcript, I found that Ollie revealed his name, Edwin Hill, as well as that of his brother, Bernice (yes, a brother!) who had recently passed away.  This clue was what I needed to further research Uncle Jay Bird.  In the interview, Ollie tells of Uncle Jay Bird being terribly abused by his step mother when he was growing up, and often Ollie would feed him and let him hide in the tree in her yard.

In the 1940 U.S. Federal Census, Edwin Hill is found living with my Great Grandparents and their two daughters (one being my grandmother Katherine).  This confirms the name she has given for Uncle Jay Bird, and if they were, in fact, as close as she claims, it isn’t surprising to find him living with my great grandparents during this census.  But then something else happened…  Ancestry DNA.

Several years ago, I took the Ancestry DNA test.  Those who have tested with Ancestry will tell you, you can go quite some time before you get a match that catches your attention.  Recently, I received a third cousin match with a grandchild of Bernice Hill, the brother of Uncle Jay Bird.  Shock and surprise! And yet, maybe not so much.  Reynolds, Georgia is a tiny town.  Cotton farms surround the area and little else.  The population there was small back in the day and even smaller now.  Many of the people living there are related to each other in one way or another.  But how is it that Uncle Jay Bird is related to me?

Doing a side by side generation comparison of Bernice’s grandchild back to Bernice’s parents, and giving allowance that due to some age gaps being greater than others, it appears that Bernice and Uncle Jay Bird may be my great grandfather Judson’s half brothers.  In most any other circumstance, I would be able to sort this out except for one small matter… Judson’s dad.  Judson’s father was known as General Wilson.  No, not A general.  That’s his name.  Try searching that name just after the Civil War era!  What’s more, General Wilson died at the age of 27 when Judson was just a few weeks old.  We have no parentage for General Wilson.  He is our Brick Wall.  One my mother spent her adult life trying to tear down.

And then there are the dates that put everything into a muddle.  Judson was born 1880.  Uncle Jay Bird was born in 1903.  Even if Judson had fathered Edwin Hill, that would not give us a genetic match for Bernice.  General Wilson died in 1880, so he cannot be the father of the Hill boys.  But what about Judson’s mother Louisa Brumbeloe Wilson?  Well, that is the next journey I am embarking on.

If Great Grandmother Ollie had not introduced me to Uncle Jay Bird, and had not given us his real name,  I would never have questioned his relationship to my family nor given much notice to his brother’s descendants who matched me in Ancestry DNA.  I feel as though Ollie is reaching out from beyond and trying to help me in solving this mystery.  Her clues have been great so far.  I hope to come across more as time goes on.

Great Grandmother Ollie was married when she was just 13 years old.  She lost 9 children before she carried my grandmother full term.  She had a big heart and the stories I have heard of her helping strangers in need are indeed a testament to her upbringing and giving nature.  She is my first ancestor I have researched and the first and only ancestor I had the good fortune to meet in life.  It seems fitting that I chose her to be the first ancestor for my 52 Ancestors in 52 weeks challenge.  Keep the clues coming Ollie!  We will solve the Uncle Jay Bird mystery yet, and perhaps along the way, tear down a long standing brick wall!

Reflections of a GraveFinder -- They Were The Dash.

 

It is no secret that I love volunteering for BillionGraves.  I love that with so little effort and just a donation of my time, I can provide a resource for thousands of people searching for a record for their ancestor or loved one.  Pure and simple.  It’s me, my iPhone and a cemetery.   Step.  Point.  Click.  Move to the next headstone.  Step.  Point. Click.  And yet, it is not as simple as that.  There is the dash.

What do I mean by “the dash?”  I am sure by now you have heard it said that we all have two dates and a dash, and we better make that dash count.  What about those dashes I pass moment by moment as I individually photograph each grave?  Those dashes meant something to a lot of people.  What happened in those dashes affected the lives of others and should be remembered.

Over the past years I have photographed over 150 thousand headstones.  That is a lot of memorials.  Do I stop and think of each person as I move along?  Truthfully, no.  I sometimes zone out because the repetition of the process over a two to five hour timeframe can lead to one’s mind wandering.  But I do try to focus.  To me, it’s a matter of respect.

Each headstone has a name.  Sometimes, as I pass by, I state the name aloud and say hello.  I notice the religious symbol on the stone.  I read the epitaph. Sometimes there is a spouse buried there, as well.  Two feet to the left may be an infant child.  My heart melts and I get emotional as though suddenly this is my family and I am sharing in the loss.

There are the feelings of pride, too.  I have photographed in Arlington, Quantico and Gettysburg.  I have passed soldiers of all ranks and station.  Purple Heart recipients.  Some who died in war and others who lived very long lives.  In my heart, I thank them all for their service.  I say a silent prayer.

I see mementoes on or beside the headstones.  A case of beer and a pack of cigarettes.  Teddy bears.  Matchbox cars.  A rock.  A dime.  Sometimes even a black box, holding who knows what?  I don’t look inside.  It’s sacred.  All memories relating to the dash.

And sometimes I meet the families.  Typically, when I photograph a cemetery and mourners come to pay their respects, I will stop photographing.  I move away or go somewhere else in the cemetery so as to give the visitors privacy.  Sometimes I am so focused I don’t see the family members walk towards me, curious as to what I am doing here.  Did I lose a loved one, as well?  Did I know their father?  Mother?  Friend?  No.  I am here for record preservation purposes only.  After a brief explanation of why I am in the cemetery, the real interaction begins.  The family members want to share their experiences about their loved ones.  They want the stories told.  I’m here to preserve the dates.  They are here to remember the dash.

What I do is easy.  It’s just me, the iPhone and a cemetery.  Step. Point. Click.  Move to the next headstone.  But as volunteers for any genealogical project, may we pause to remember for whom we are doing this work?  What we do goes beyond record preservation.  May our work reflect our respect for the name engraved on the stone.  They are more than just a name and two dates.  They were the dash.

Adventures in Grave Hunting

Anyone who knows me well knows that I spend my free time seeking out cemeteries to photograph for BillionGraves.  Living in Virginia, one doesn’t have to travel far before stumbling across a lone grave or small abandoned cemetery by the side of the road, in the grocery store parking lot or out in the middle of a field.  But sometimes graves are hidden, and this is where it is good to have a curious mind and an adventurous nature.

BillionGraves has taken the work out of seeking for some of the locations.  If you download their free App, you will find an icon labeled Cemeteries.

 When you click on the icon, you will see that you have a couple of options.  One is to enter the name and location of a cemetery.  This is great if you know what cemetery you are looking for but just need directions to get there.  The other option is to have the App show which cemeteries are closest to you.

Once you select “Nearest Cemeteries,” you will see a list of the cemeteries and their proximity to where you currently are standing or driving.  Notice in each cemetery section there is also the word "Images."  Beside “Images” there is a number indicating how many pictures have been taken in that particular cemetery.  Don’t assume that if the number is high that means that all the graves in the cemetery have been photographed.  It may mean that someone spent time photographing the cemetery but may not have been able to complete the entire cemetery.  It is worth taking a look.

Memorial Day weekend, my husband and I decided to take a casual drive to enjoy a rare day of sunshine.  While driving, we decided to pull up the BillionGraves App to see if there might be some cemeteries that we could add pictures to for BillionGraves. Being in the adjacent county from where I live, I figured there may be a couple I hadn’t tackled yet.  Sure enough, the App indicated there was one off of RT 15 in Fauquier County.  Ruffner Cemetery.

BillionGraves is great about not only giving a marked location for cemeteries, but the App guided us to the precise location of the cemetery.  This particular cemetery location was behind an industrial building.  May I pause here to say, when you are grave hunting in remote locations, always take a partner with you.  Don’t go alone.  Make your safety a priority.

We pulled to the end of the access road by the building and parked.  In a mere 600 feet of us should be Ruffner Cemetery.  As you see from the photo, we were viewing a wall of trees.  Now, most people might throw in the towel and drive away claiming the BillionGraves App to be in error.  Well, not us!  We love an adventure.  So, with phone in hand, App on display, I sent my husband into that wall of trees to see what he could find.  (You didn’t think I was going to go in there, did you?!)  

In this particular case, there was nothing to find.  The trees and overgrowth were so thick that making his way through the woods was near impossible for my husband.  He gave it a good try and emerged 20 minutes later with nothing to report but bramble scratches and possible poison ivy.  (It is good to wear protective clothing when grave hunting.  We bring along chlorox wipes, bug spray and a first aid kit with us, because we do often find ourselves traipsing in some heavily wooded areas.)

Was the trip a loss?  Absolutely not!  Here’s what we did.  We took a photograph of the location and added it to the BillionGraves App for Ruffner Cemetery.  It’s not a picture of a gravesite, so there is nothing to be transcribed.  It is, however, a great picture of the location, should anyone else venture to seek out the cemetery.  My next step will be to research the cemetery and see who is buried there.  If anything, I will be able to add the names of the family interred at this location.  We may not have headstones, but BillionGraves has the GPS coordinates, we have added a picture of the location, and hopefully soon, we will add some documentation regarding the hidden cemetery site.

Next time you are out on a leisure drive, pull up the BillionGraves App on your phone and see if you can find a cemetery that can be photographed.  Remember, keep your safety a priority and take along a friend or two.  You never know what adventures you may have!