Speaking of “depression,” I gotta be honest (because this is my journal). I haven’t combed or brushed my hair; in my nightgown all day; didn’t open the door all day. Frankly, I don’t like “me.”
Bob Hope used to sing “Thanks for the memories”—and I’m thankful for “memory.” Recently, there was an exchange of email messages between cousins. My avid-genealogist-friend-cousin shared details regarding a recently researched “Showalter.” (Showalter is my mother’s maiden name.) In turn, I told him about searching for information about “Yellow Robe“ and Alfred Frantz. I added the name of William Frantz in relationship to desegregation. (Here’s a link to the earlier blog message about William Frantz and Ruby Bridges.) I shared those names and details without consulting my Ancestry database (54,883 individuals).
First thing this morning, before my first sip of coffee, I felt compelled to check the accuracy of my narrative. (I’m obsessive-compulsive about accuracy.)
Seriously, I find myself cleaning up the mess that folks dump on Ancestry. Granted, there are so many families where the children have the same name. My most recent “mess” was two men named Amos Brubaker. “My cousin” (3rd cousin 3x removed) was confused with another Amos who belongs to the “Brewbaker” tree. ~~ Approximately twelve hours ago, I started documenting the (just arrived) obituary for a 6th cousin 1x removed. All this time on the extended family plus the creation of a chart establishing relationships.
With all the “family togetherness,” I couldn’t imagine that Amos was from an entirely different “tree.” I got out my shovel and started digging. (It’s a dirty job but somebody’s gotta do it.)
Postscript: For several days, I was documenting the “Sink” family. My mind had the alternate thought, “What’s her name? Who was the cousin I visited in Delphi, Indiana?” Then I remembered: “Margie.” It didn’t take much time, I found her in my Ancestry database. My mind associated her with “Sink” and it was “Dunk.” (Curious how the mind works?!)