Following the Freedom Trail

 

                                                                John Hancock's grave at Granary Burying Ground

Back on October 7, I wrote about my Revolutionary War ancestors, the ones who fought on the side of the Patriots; my 4 x great grandfather, Charles Tripp, and his father-in-law, Soloman Woodworth. While both of these men served in New York State, I recently had a chance to see historic Boston, where so many of the beginning efforts for American independence were taken.

Many of the preliminary steps towards freeing the nation have assumed mythical status. Events such as the Boston Massacre or the Boston Tea Party have grown by epic proportions although propaganda had a lot to do with shaping the memories of what happened. That was particularly true of the depiction of the Boston Massacre. Paul Revere copied a print that showed British soldiers in a line shooting at citizens of Boston which was not a true picture of what took place. Another myth in which Revere figured prominently was the Midnight Ride which also didn't take place exactly as written.

Even with having to take many of the events leading towards independence with a grain of salt, the history in the city was well presented. Knowing what was important, led governing bodies to save historic buildings like the Old State House. To make things easier for tourists, the city even has a line in the sidewalks called the Freedom Trail which you can follow from one historic site to another. This we followed to Bunker Hill and the ship, The Constitution. The line came in useful as there were many tourists. The number of people interested in this history became very apparent when trying to photograph graves in the Granary Burying Ground. We had to dodge around organized walking tours to get any good pictures. 

The sounds of ancestors' lives

 

                                                                                     As seen on my musical tour

When researching my ancestors' lives the quest is mostly silent. In bygone days when the search was a more intense endeavour, occasional shouts of "Eureka" might break the silence but those moments were few and far between. But the past was not a silent place. People then may not have been cursed with the sound of rush hour traffic but their highways and byways would not have been quiet. Imagine creaking wheels and the sound of horses or oxen pulling the wagon or carriage or the sounds of mobs gathering for protest or spectacle (not to mention the smell, but that's another subject.) But those kinds of sounds were byproducts. What about sounds that are intentionally made - like music.

Making music has been a part of the human experience for millennia. Did the music hall figure in an ancestor's story? Perhaps they were play goers. There's often music involved in the theatre. In the bid to understand our forebears their entertainment shouldn't be overlooked.

A guided tour I took this year that took me from Nashville to New Orleans, reminded me of how music can be a soundtrack to our own lives. Tunes can invoke a feeling or bring forth memories. How did they affect people in the past? Before the days of TV, many affluent people had pianos in their homes and family sing songs were a part of some home repertoires. Adding more sound to family tales can help to bring their stories alive. That reminds me, I really should find out what tunes were popular in the North during the Civil War.      

Mining personal archives for treasure

 

                                                              A surprising find in a bag on my own closet shelf

Sometimes there are surprising finds amongst your own stuff. I don't know if that's especially true for women with purses that fall out of favour for one reason or another. My tendency is to put those old bags on a shelf and basically abandon them after only taking out the bare necessities. So, when I decided to clear some space to have room to store a new suitcase, I knew it was finally time to empty and discard some of the purses that had been gathering dust.

I had a vague idea of some of the contents, like a key to a bank box, although it wasn't in the purse I thought it was. There were other keys there, only I'm not sure what they open; maybe the desk drawer at my old office. They were a puzzle. Not so the dozens of pens nestled between wrapped sweets pulled from purse bottoms and who knew that leather-like wallets could turn sticky and reluctant to let go of the plastic cards once safely ensconced in those handy card slots. The disintegrating wallet tried to hold on to my citizenship card but I managed to pull it out eventually.

Besides that half remembered ID card which captured a time and memory, there were other treasures to be found. It appears that some of those handy carryalls must have come with me to seminars and on research trips. There were papers, some of which I still have to go through. But more strangely, I found a stash of microfiche. I don't remember acquiring the fiche but the receipt included in the envelope confirms that I did. The receipt was dated back in 2000, when researchers still looked at that kind of media regularly. There has been a lot of water under the bridge since then. If I ever looked through those fiche, I didn't make a note of it so I'll have to do it again. I wonder if my family history society still has a fiche reader? Better yet, what other treasures might be lurking on my own shelves? That's an incentive to start getting organized for sure. I just need to keep the momentum going!

Delving into military ancestors

                                                                  American soldiers in 1781

My family history society, the British Columbia Genealogy Society (BCGS), is putting together a book of veterans this year. The deadline for members to submit the information about our military ancestors is September 30 but, of course, I left things to the last minute and, as I write this, I am working on my entries before getting ready to go on yet another trip.

My ancestors seem to have been drawn into a lot of conflicts. Particularly surprising to me, given my background as a displaced Brit brought up in Canada, is the strong showing men in my family tree made in the American Revolution, on the American side! I didn't see that one coming. When researching my 4 x great grandfather, Charles Tripp, who took up land in Percy, Northumberland County, Upper Canada in 1797, my first thought was that he was a late Loyalist. It wasn't until later that I discovered his pension records on Ancestry, clear evidence that he fought on the side of the patriots. I thought it was strange that he was given land in Upper Canada. That makes me wonder if there was festering animosity between the United Empire Loyalists of Upper Canada and the newcomers who had once fought for the enemy. I can't imagine how Charles' wife, Jane Tripp nee Woodworth, felt living among former foes as her father, Captain Solomon Woodworth, had lost his life in a skirmish while fighting on the American side. 

But lives are filled with conflict and sometimes it is hard to tell friend from foe. That's particularly true with internal conflicts within countries, like revolutions or civil wars. My research has uncovered more that one Union soldier on my wider family tree. What I would really like to find, though, is evidence that takes me back further, perhaps even as early as the civil war in England. According to my research, a wide swath of my ancestors called that country home at that time of that conflict and, given how many of them participated in later wars, they must surely have chosen a side in that long drawn out fight. Of course that's just the English side, we won't go into the warlike tendencies of the nationalities that make up a large portion of my ancestry. The Scots and the Irish are not known for their timidity either. Perhaps it's a good thing that earlier records are hard to find or the veteran project would take me even longer.

Images:

H. Charles McBarron, Jr., Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Searching for family treasure in paperwork stacks

 

                                                       An intriguing hand drawn map found in the paper stack

On my trip to Ontario, I had a chance to stay with my brother and his wife as they live near to Paris, Ontario where I had attended the writers retreat. On a day's outing, I had my first ever look at Niagara Falls, quite an impressive sight.

Not all of our time was spent catching up or sightseeing. My brother brought a stash of our father's papers up from his basement. My visit seemed to be the inspiration for weeding through what was there. Of course, I was madly snapping pictures of records of interest. It was strange to see family history information I had sent to my father that I had found while digging into our family's past. There were other intriguing items like photos of people we couldn't identify although they were clearly of importance and copies of letters with references to events in the larger family that left something to the imagination.

Once the stack of papers had been examined, photographic slides came up from the basement repository. Remember those? As we peered through a handheld viewer, we tried to make out the figures in the images. Some were hard to see and most of them weren't labeled with people's names which would have made identification easier. Surprisingly, there were slides of images from the '50s. They must have been photographs that had been converted to slides, the latest technology at the time.

While going through the papers, I captured so many images on my phone that I'll have to make time to study them in depth. At least in the era that photographic slides were the done thing there weren't as many of them to go through as there are in these days of point and shoot with a phone that is constantly in reach. That brevity must have pleased the audiences pinned down in their seats by good manners as they were subjected to slideshows back in the day. 

Report on a family history writing retreat

 

                                                       My illustration of the presenter's family history story

It's strange to say but our research into the past to find out about our ancestors is constantly changing. The past may stay the same but our ways of accessing it continue to evolve. It pays to keep up with the latest trends so I'm constantly learning and seeking new opportunities for education. In my case, since I want to write about my ancestors that also means learning more about composing compelling narratives that are faithful to the historic facts.

I recently attended a Writers Retreat put on by Lynn Palermo of the Family History Writing Studio. There have been a few online writers retreats but this year two in-person events were to be held; one in Paris, Ontario and the other in Maple Ridge, BC. I attended the one in Ontario.

Over the last few years, I've been meeting up with my fellow writers at the studio by zoom. Seeing people I'd known as talking heads online was a bit odd at first but knowing each other even that little bit helped to break the ice. We learned a lot over the two days of instruction which made me rethink how I have been portraying the main character in my story. We didn't spend all of our time listening though. On the last day we were given the task to illustrate a story that Lynn had related from her own family's history. Let loose with paper and plenty of art supplies, I got in touch with my artistic side and fell in love with the watercolor brush pens I was using. I need some of those!

Aside from artistic endeavours, I learned a lot over the short time of the retreat and enjoyed meeting my fellow students in person. We spent time together but I also found time to explore the town of Paris. It was nice to have fellow writers to share meals and conversation with. And, as part of the entertainment, many of the fledgling writers shared excerpts from ongoing projects after our evening meals. There were a lot of interesting lives captured in their words, inspiration for the work I am creating about my own ancestor. 

Moving and family keepsakes

 

                                                      A view of the immigrant ship Jeannie Johnson in Dublin

Packing, I've gotten used to it over the years. As I remember it, I started packing for myself at the age of 6. My family travelled a lot and I continued to travel over the years. But it's one thing to pack and know that you are coming back home. What if home is moving with you?

Travel changes us but none so much as that which changes our surroundings permanently. I almost wrote "for good" and had to alter that wording because some of those moves weren't travel towards something new they were looking forward to. Rather they were looking for sanctuary after being evicted from their homes. How would you pack for a journey like that?

The temptation would be to take important family keepsakes with you, if you still had them. Only there would be limited ability to take furniture, especially things that were heavy and bulky. That was certainly true in early days with people crammed below decks on immigrant ships. At later dates, movement of household goods was more easily managed if you had the means to pay. I think that our family furniture followed by ship when we immigrated to Canada from England. We came by airplane, a far cry from those earlier immigration treks across the ocean. Not as easy as in this day and age though as there were no jets in those days.

It's interesting to think of the dynamics of our ancestors moving from place to place particularly when it involved immigration. Nice to think that some may have been able to take family keepsakes with them. And really, those were the lucky ones who weren't displaced by war or evacuation due to natural disasters. After those events, I suppose, choosing what to take with you may have been made easier because time was of the essence or perhaps there was little left to choose from.