As a RootsTech 2018 Ambassador, I was able to give away a free four day pass to RootsTech. This year Beth Dibble was selected.

Beth has attended two years of RootsTech already and is looking forward to her third year. When asked what she is most excited about she said, "RootsTech combines the love I have of family history and my passion for technology. For RootsTech 2018, I am looking forward to learning more about the theme of Connect. Belong. and learning more about how I can pass my passion onto others within my circle of influence.  I have been two different times and each year gets better!  Looking forward to attending again!  #rootstech2018 #iamsoexcited"

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I look forward to seeing Beth, and hopefully all of you, at RootsTech 2018!

Joe Louis Arena is no more. Bereft of life. It’s off the twig. Pining for the fjords. Joined the choir invisible. It is an ex-sports arena.[1] After 37 years playing in the same arena. The Detroit Red Wings are moving to a new home. The last time they played somewhere else Jimmy Carter was President. 

What does this have to do with genealogy you ask? Well, for me, quite a bit. Hockey has always been a big deal for us Michiganders, and for my family, we've been fans of team since the beginning.

NHL hockey got started in Detroit in 1926 with the Detroit Cougars. They actually played their first season in what Steve Perry, of the ‘rock’ band Journey, would call ‘South Detroit’, what the rest of the world calls Windsor, Ontario.[2] They moved into their new home the Detroit Olympia (lovingly called the Old Red Barn) in 1927. In 1930 they changed their name to the Detroit Falcons and in 1932 officially became the Detroit Red Wings. They won seven Stanley Cups in the Old Red Barn.

My dad remembers walking there as a kid to watch Gordie Howe and his ‘Production Line’ teammates fly up and down the ice with no helmets and padding that would make today’s team doctors cringe. It was where Gordie Howe invented the ‘Gordie Howe Hat Trick’ (a goal, an assist, and a fight). It was the golden age of hockey.

When my Great-Grandmother came to this country in 1922[3] after watching her native country, Austria-Hungary, lose the Great War and be divided piecemeal, she instantly fell in love with the Detroit Cougars and cheered them on her whole life. My mother recalls seeing her small-in-stature grandmother screaming at the television in German if her beloved Red Wings were behind. A trait she passed down to me apparently (I may have gotten a noise complaint or two in college from yelling at the television during a Red Wings game).

The area around Olympia became increasing rough and in 1978, and after two nearby murders the Red Wings were looking for a new home. To prevent a move to the suburbs like the Lions and the Pistons, the City of Detroit offered very favorable terms at a new arena, to be named after a boxing champion born in Detroit, Joe Louis.[4] On December 12, 1979, 62 days after I was born, the Red Wings took to the ice for the first time in their new home. So for me, Joe Louis Arena and Red Wings hockey are synonymous.

I grew up in a Red Wings home. When my dad was working late at the funeral home, I was in charge of recording the game for him on our Betamax and gave him an up-to-the-minute breakdowns of what happened since the last time he had checked in. The first, last, and only time I ever cussed out loud in front of my dad was while watching a Wings game. I remember hugging my dad when the Wings won the Cup for the first time in 42 years in 1997. My dad was only 13 the last time they won it, and there was enough terrible seasons since then that I am sure he questioned if they would ever win one again.

When my wife and I got married in 2002, the Red Wings were one win away from winning the Cup for the third time since 1997. Not knowing if his new daughter-in-law would be keen on letting me watch the last game of the Cup Finals during our honeymoon, he taped the game for me. For the record, my wife did let me watch the game without me even asking, and that’s when I knew ours was going to be a marriage for the ages.

Sports teams, though seemingly trivial, are a part of our lives, and were an important part of our ancestors lives too. When we learn about our ancestors, it may be worth the time to check out the history of local and regional sports teams. Did great-grandpa play on the local baseball team? Maybe he was a fan of the closest Major League team as well. Information on major professional teams is pretty easy to come by.

Here are a four potential sources to find information on local small town teams our ancestors may have played on:

1. Archive.org

You can search for local and community histories. Look for a section on recreation and it will often have         information on local sports teams. They sometimes have team pictures that may have ancestors in them.

 2.  Newspapers.com and Genealogybank.com Newspapers are such a rich source of information on our ancestors. You can check sports scores from a variety of teams, including local high school sports as well as professional teams of local interest.

 3.    Local Historical Societies and Libraries 
I have found loads of information on my ancestors by searching in local (to them) libraries, historical societies, and history museums. To find them, a Google search is typically sufficient.
 
 4.    Facebook 
I am convinced there is a page for everything on Facebook, so check not only for local historical pages but also team pages as well for historic photos. Head to Katherine Willson’s Genealogy on Facebook list at: https://socialmediagenealogy.com/genealogy-on-facebook-list/
Did your ancestors play sports for any local high school, semi-pro or professional teams? Comment below.

Sources:
[1] This is a parody of the famous Monty Python ‘Parrot Sketch’ which can be watched here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=npjOSLCR2hE

[2] In the song, the story mentions a young man ‘born and raised in South Detroit’, which geographically is Windsor, Ontario, since it is directly south of Detroit along the Detroit River. Mr. Perry admits that he didn’t look on a map prior to penning the lyric, but just liked the sound of it. Full article here: http://www.mlive.com/entertainment/detroit/index.ssf/2012/01/steve_perry_finally_answers_th.html 

[3] Ancestry.com. Michigan, Federal Naturalization Records, 1887-1931. Lehi, UT: Ancestry.com Operations, Inc. 2016. Image #373. Accessed on 4/11/2017.

[4] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joe_Louis_Arena

My oldest son, 12, plays the trombone. He started last year. For those who have never heard an eleven-year-old practice the trombone, count yourselves lucky. Imagine a cat that is in heat playing the bagpipes attempting ‘Hot Cross Buns’ but without the ability to control the volume and you’ll be standing on the threshold of the sounds produced by a seemingly harmless brass instrument in the hands of a pre-teen. Before everyone starts sharpening their pitch forks and grabbing the torches and demanding I return the “World’s Greatest Dad” t-shirt my kids got me, let me just say that he has improved remarkably over the last 18 months. Enough so that I was genuinely excited to go to his first Junior High School Jazz Band concert, in which he had two solos; both of which were extraordinarily good for being completely improvised and in front of people (which most adults would be terrified to do).

Before the performance began I texted a photo of the program to my father. The first tune they were playing was “C-Jam Blues” written by Duke Ellington. My dad, with glee replied back that he got to meet Duke Ellington when he was younger. My paternal grandfather was a professional jazz drummer in the Detroit area starting in the late 1930s, and avoided seeing combat during the Second World War because his skills with the drum kit were more essential to the war effort than his skills with a rifle. After the concert was over, and we had loaded everyone up in the van, I relayed this information to my son, who replied back:

“Wow, that’s cool. No wonder I like jazz music, it’s in my genes.”

That may not seem like much, but that is a genealogical win right there. That boy went to bed thinking about one of his ancestors. When he woke me up to let me know he was leaving for school (curse you Netflix for having all three Jurassic Park movies to binge watch!) we had a few minutes before the bus came and he asked more questions about his great-grandfather, just so he could make sure that he got the details right when he told his band mates and teacher the next day.

I never met either of my grandfathers, my Grandpa Earl died a few years before I was born. But for a few glorious minutes, as we discussed him and his life, I’d like to think he was there, listening to his youngest grandson and his great-grandson (who is partially named after him) talk about jazz. The music that defined his generation.

As genealogists these are the moments we hope for with our children and grandchildren. To paraphrase PT Barnum, “All of the kids aren’t interested all of the time, but some of the kids are interested some of the time.” So when those moments come, we need to be there to nurture that spark of interest. How can we do that as genealogists? Here are four steps:

1. Take an active interest in what your kids/grandkids are interested in.

I know, I know. Video games are boring. (I don’t like them either.) But if it’s what your grandkids are into, you be into it too, even if just for a few minutes. You’ll get a lot more mileage being ‘the cool’ grandparent who played Mario Kart for 30 minutes than being the stick in the mud saying ‘when I was your age we didn’t have video games, we ate gruel and we liked it.’ If you show them you’re interested in them, who knows, maybe they might return the favor.

    2.     Be present at activities when you can.
When you can’t call or text afterwards.I know, I know. The kids never call. Well, guess what, the phone works both ways! I love it when my parents call just to say hello, even if we’re in the middle of a crying, bleeding, dirty diaper good-ole-fashioned six-kid meltdown. What’s more is the kids love it. They love to share what they are doing and they like to hear what you are doing. No seriously, stop laughing. Just try it.
 
   3. Keep the stories brief and relevant.
I know, I know. But the story just gets better after the 10-minute mark. The text from my dad that sparked the above incident was a glorious eight words long. EIGHT. This sentence has eight words in it too. (I know you just went back and counted.) Challenge yourself. Think of a family story that you’d like to share, then reduce it to 15 words or less. Try it. If it sparks interest you can always fill in more details later.

   4. Use pictures when you can.
My kids love pictures. If they suspect that I have gotten a snap through SnapChat from one of their aunts, uncles, or cousins they go absolutely berserk. (Think Marlon Brando’s death scene in ‘Isle of Doctor Moreau’.) So if you have a picture of the person you are talking about, all the better. 

​Well there you have it, four steps toward success in sharing your interest in family history with your descendants. How do you share your family history with your kids and grandkids? Comment below!

There is the old, supposedly Chinese, curse, “May you live in interesting times.”[1] We certainly live in interesting times. There are protests, people protesting the protestors, and protestors who are protesting the people protesting the protestors. The very basic, foundational laws of the United States are being tested by those in the highest offices of the nation. Countries and companies live in fear of a presidential tweet. If someone was looking for a reason to lose their faith in humanity, it wouldn’t take long for them to trip over several options. Even the most ardent optimists are finding their faith in the future tested.

Here is where I need to make a confession. While I strive to be an optimist, it doesn’t come naturally to me, and so when ‘interesting times’ happen I often wake up an optimist and go to bed a pessimist. But something happened this week that restored my faith in the future. I went to the largest genealogy conference in the world, RootsTech. It wasn’t a genealogy class that restored my faith in the future, though all of the classes were wonderful. It was what I saw between class sessions, during African Heritage Day, and Family History Discovery Day that gave me hope that the future may not be as dark as it seems.

Each day of the conference people stopped to help each other. In a world where ‘common decency” has become uncommon, people were genuinely kind to others. When a child was lost, people stopped to search or to pray that the child would be found. Those prayers came from people from different religious backgrounds, different genders, and different skin colors. And when that child was found, the chorus of applause was equally diverse.
African Heritage Day started with perhaps one of the most moving and inspiring speeches ever given at a genealogy conference by actor LeVar Burton. There were several thousand pairs of eyes in attendance, and not a single one was dry. White, Black, Asian, or Middle Eastern, it didn’t matter. If Mr. Burton’s speech didn’t move you, you should schedule an appointment with a cardiologist as soon as possible, because something is clearly wrong with your heart.

Later that day there were African drummers, Irish step dancers, and a South American choir and dance ensemble La Paz de Naciones. I saw people of all races tapping their feet to the beat of those African drummers, clapping along with the breakneck fiddling that accompanied the Irish dancers, and moving to the music of La Paz de Naciones. In short, for a time there were no boundaries, there were no artificially constructed walls between races. Though the outfits of the performers were colorful, color didn’t matter. And for a glorious hour, we were all just humans. No black, brown, or white. Just humans.  

On Saturday, during Family History Discovery Day, I saw hundreds of families with their children come to learn more about their ancestors. They learned about where and how their ancestors lived. They recorded their own stories and took family photos. They weren’t doing these things because there was a test in two weeks like in history classes at school. They came to build a connection to the past, to their past. To paraphrase a Biblical passage, they came to have ‘their hearts turned’ to their ancestors. And they were all smiles.
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In a world that seems increasingly polarized by race, gender, politics, and religion what I saw made me realize that cooperation is not only possible, but seems to be in our nature, a part of our DNA. Seeing all of those young people start to have an interest in their ancestors gave me hope that maybe if they’ll learn from those ancestors’ mistakes and successes that maybe they can build a far more beautiful tomorrow than we can yet imagine. Perhaps if there is one great hope for the future, it may be to know more about the past.


[1] Actually, British Parliamentarian, Sir Austen Chamberlain appears to be the source of the quote. (see quoteinvestigator.com/2015/12/18/live/ accessed on 2/13/17)

British start-up company Twile is on its way to becoming a 'household name' in the genealogical community. In this blog post I look at what I consider one of the most valuable services that Twile provides.

The character John Keating, in the award winning film, “Dead Poet’s Society” was asked why he stood on his desk. His poignant reply: “I stand upon my desk to remind myself that we must constantly look at things in a different way.”1 So too must we, as genealogists ‘constantly look at things in a different way’. Another way of saying this is we need perspective. Just as the world looks far different at the cruising altitude of a commercial jetliner than it does standing in the midst of a wheat field. Our family history looks much different when examined at “cruising altitude”. The most valuable thing Twile gives me as a genealogist is perspective.

If you are anything like me, when you discover a new document with your ancestor on it, you do a little dance (maybe not an actual dance, but almost certainly a mental one). If you’re like me, you take that document, examine it, take notes, smile, then examine it again, take more notes, then smile some more, and continue this cycle for several hours (let’s be honest here, it could be days or weeks, we won’t judge you). But if you’re like me, you’ll catch yourself, like the intrepid explorers of old, wanting to jump immediately to the next horizon, or in our case the next great document. But if you put down your pith helmet for one moment, and think about what the information in that document tells you about the context in which your ancestor lived, and change your perspective, you will find yourself on an equally thrilling and rewarding journey of discovery.

If only there were a simple, convenient way to organize information about your ancestor in a way that places it in historical context that could provide you with the needed perspective. Enter Twile. Twile allows users the opportunity to gain the aforementioned perspective, to see their family history in a different way but placing events and pictures in chronological order. For example, when I first used Twile and loaded just my parents and grandparents in, just three generations and I noticed something. My mom’s dad died before my parents were married. Not a super alarming fact. But until that moment on that day on the phone with Kelly from Twile, those two facts were complete and total strangers. Both living happy, but separate, lives in my brain until that glorious moment that Twile put them next to each other and introduced them. Just as when two people meet they generally ask questions to get to know each other, the same is true of facts. The first question out of the gate was, “Who walked your mom down the aisle?” What a wonderful question that I didn’t have the answer to. None of the documents I have would give me that information, and I had never thought to ask.
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Twile does more than just allow you to present your family history in a format that is both engaging and easy to share, but also can help genealogists gain precious perspective. So get up on that desk (metaphorically of course) and explore how Twile can help you see your ancestors in a different way.

Learn more at: 
http://www.twile.com/familyhistoryguy

You can also learn more by stopping by their booth at RootsTech next month.

1. Dead Poets Society. By Tom Schulman. Performed by Robin Williams. United States: Buena Vista Pictures Distribution, 1989. DVD.

I was at the Archives of Michigan this last Saturday, looking through the Detroit Recorders Court misdemeanor books for 1939 on a wild goose chase. The pages are unindexed and are in order of the date of the hearing. Since I didn't know if the person I was looking for was even in there, I had to look at each entry on each of the 540 or so pages of the books. Then on page 473 a name caught my eye. It wasn't the name I was looking for, but people have been looking for this person for years. I found Jimmy Hoffa! (see image below)

Turns out Jimmy and two others were brought in for "Interfering with a person in the lawful pursuit of his avocation". Jimmy and one of the others were found not guilty, not so for the other guy. He was fined $10 (equivalent to $168.95 in today's money) which is marked as "Paid". We might not know where Jimmy is today, but we know where he was on October 9, 1939, in the Detroit Recorder's Court!