Martha Ann “Puss” Chadwick Wescott: A Life Shaped by Family and Loss

Martha Ann “Puss” Chadwick lost five close family members before she was seventeen. At eighteen, she married lifesaver John Thomas Wescott and began a marriage that would last fifty years.

My second great-grandmother, Martha Ann Chadwick, known to her family as “Puss,” was born on 3 November 1865, in Currituck County, North Carolina.

I still don’t know where the nickname “Puss” came from. 

What I do know is that Martha experienced an extraordinary amount of loss while she was still very young.

Marth Ann Chadwick

                                           Photo Courtesy of Spence/Wescott family

Growing Up in Currituck County

Martha was the daughter of William Davenport Chadwick and Lurana J. O’Neal. Lurana had previously been married to Nathan Etheridge, with whom she had four children before his death in 1856.

William and Lurana’s family included Martha’s older siblings Maria, Luvina, Rebecca, and John. Her brother Edgar was born when Martha was about three, followed several years later by her younger sister Lillie Dane.

The family lived at Poplar Branch in Currituck County, a coastal North Carolina community not far from the Outer Banks.

Martha was born during the final year of the Civil War. Although the fighting was drawing to a close by the time of her birth, northeastern North Carolina had already experienced considerable disruption during the conflict. Union forces captured nearby Roanoke Island in February 1862, and military operations extended into Currituck Sound later that month.

Martha’s childhood would instead be marked by losses much closer to home.

Poplar Branch Map

Five Deaths Before She Was Seventeen

Martha’s little sister Lillie Dane died when Martha was about seven years old, only a few months after Lillie’s birth.

Then came one loss after another.

Her older sister Rebecca died when Martha was thirteen.

About a year later, her mother, Lurana, died at only fifty years old.

The following year, Martha’s half-sister Arissia died.

Seven months later, Martha lost her father, William, who was only forty-eight.

Five members of her immediate family were gone before Martha reached seventeen.

When I first wrote about her years ago, I followed that list with the thought that perhaps all that loss explained why she accepted John Thomas Wescott’s marriage proposal at eighteen.

I wouldn’t make that assumption today.

The records can tell me that Martha experienced tremendous loss. They cannot tell me how she felt about it, or why she chose to marry John.

That’s Martha’s story to keep.

Marriage License John and MarthaMarriage Registration John and MarthaJohn T. Wescott and Lovey MarriageJohn T. Wescott and Martha Chadwick Marriage

John Thomas Wescott

On 12 March 1884, eighteen-year-old Martha married John Thomas Wescott, who was thirty.

John had been married before. His first wife, Lovey Payne, had died, leaving him with a young daughter, Dora.

Martha therefore became a wife and stepmother at eighteen. By nineteen, she and John had begun having children of their own.

Together, Martha and John had five children.

Their marriage also connected two families already living and working in the same small corner of coastal North Carolina.

An 1884 edition of Branson’s North Carolina Business Directory provides an intriguing clue about how their families may have known one another. The directory lists a Wescott as proprietor of the Wescott Hotel on Roanoke Island and Martha’s father, W. D. Chaddic, as a lawyer in Manteo and proprietor of the Manteo Hotel.

I once wondered whether those business connections were how Martha and John met.

They may have been.

But I haven’t found evidence proving it.

And after enough years doing genealogy, I’ve learned to appreciate the difference between a good possibility and a documented fact.

Life With a Lifesaver

John’s career eventually took the family into the world of the United States Life-Saving Service.

In 1887, he was appointed keeper of the Poyner’s Hill Life-Saving Station. During his years in the service, he and his crews responded to vessels in distress along a stretch of the North Carolina coast where storms, shoals, and shipwrecks were part of life. My research into John’s career has documented rescues involving more than twenty-five people.

Those records tell us a great deal about John.

They say considerably less about Martha.

That is a familiar problem when researching women of her generation.

John’s occupation generated government records, newspaper coverage, and official reports. Martha’s work was largely performed within the family and household, where far less of it reached paper.

But she was there.

She raised five children of her own and helped raise John’s daughter Dora. She moved with the family as John’s work changed. And she remained beside him through a marriage that lasted half a century.

 

John T Wescott and Martha Chadwick's Golden Wedding Article

Fifty Years Together

In 1934, Martha and John celebrated their golden wedding anniversary.

Fifty years had passed since the eighteen-year-old Martha Chadwick married the thirty-year-old widower with a young daughter.

By then, the family had grown considerably.

Martha had lived long enough to see her children become adults and to know grandchildren and a great-grandchild.

The newspaper account of their golden anniversary is one of my favorite records from their lives because it captures something vital records cannot.

It marks time shared.

Birth certificates tell us when people arrived. Death certificates tell us when they left.

Every once in a while, we’re lucky enough to find something that tells us a little about the life lived in between.

Martha’s Final Years

Martha died at age seventy. Her death certificate gives the cause as chronic nephritis, a term historically used for chronic inflammation or disease of the kidneys.

She was buried beside John in the Wescott family plot at Maplewood Cemetery in Durham, North Carolina.

When I first wrote about Martha, I concentrated heavily on the tragedies of her childhood and the possible connections surrounding her ancestry.

Looking at her life again years later, I see something different.

Martha lost five close family members before she was seventeen.

Then she spent the next half-century building another family.

I can’t know how those early losses affected her. The records don’t tell me.

But they do allow me to follow a girl called Puss from Poplar Branch, through marriage and motherhood, into a family whose descendants are still telling her story nearly a century later.

And for now, that’s enough.

Martha Chadwick death cert

 

Martha Ann Chadwick headstone

As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases.

Download Records, Don’t Just Save Them

Saving a record to an online family tree isn’t the same as keeping your own copy. Learn how to download, name, cite, organize, and back up the genealogy records you’ve worked so hard to find.

Finding a record for an ancestor is exciting. You click “Save to Tree,” attach it to the right person, and move on to the next discovery.

But did you actually download the record?

If the answer is no, you may not have your own copy at all.

Attaching a record to an online family tree is not the same as keeping it. Access can depend on the website, collection, subscription, account permissions, or agreements with the organization that owns the records.

If a record matters to your research, download it and keep a copy you control.

Why Download Genealogy Records?

Websites change.

Collections move from one provider to another. Licensing agreements expire. Links stop working. Websites reorganize their collections. Subscription access changes.

And occasionally a record you could view yesterday becomes considerably harder to find tomorrow.

Downloading the record protects your research from those changes.

It also makes your family tree more portable. If you eventually move your research to another genealogy program or website, you aren’t dependent upon links pointing back to your old tree.

A GEDCOM Isn’t a Complete Backup

This one catches a lot of people.

A GEDCOM file is designed to transfer genealogical data between programs. It can preserve information about people, relationships, dates, places, notes, and source information.

But don’t assume that exporting a GEDCOM means you’ve backed up all of your photographs and record images.

Your actual media files may need to be backed up separately.

Before changing programs or closing an account, check what your particular software exports and make sure you have copies of the original documents and images.

1. Download the Original Record

When a genealogy website allows it, download the actual record image or document.

Don’t settle for a screenshot of an index if an image of the original record is available.

An index is a finding aid. The original image may contain information that wasn’t indexed at all, and indexes can contain transcription errors.

Whenever possible, I want the record my ancestor actually appeared in.

2. Give the File a Useful Name

We’ve all downloaded something called:

image_27493857.jpg

Very informative.

Six months later, you’ll stare at it and wonder whether it’s Great-Grandpa’s marriage certificate or a picture of a chair you considered buying.

Rename the file while you still know what it is.

You can develop whatever naming system works for you. The important thing is to be consistent.

For example:

1920-US-Census-John-Smith-Cleveland-Ohio.jpg

or

Smith_John_1920_Census_Cleveland_OH.jpg

A useful filename might include the person’s name, year, record type, and location.

You don’t need my system. You need a system that Future You will understand.

3. Save the Source Information Too

Downloading the image isn’t enough.

You also need to remember where it came from.

Save the citation or enough source information to find the record again. Depending on the source, that might include:

  • website or archive
  • collection title
  • record type
  • jurisdiction
  • volume, page, certificate, or image number
  • original repository
  • URL or record identifier
  • date you accessed it

A link by itself is not a citation, and links can change.

The goal is for you, or another researcher, to understand where the record originated and have a reasonable chance of locating it again.

4. Organize Your Files

There is no single correct genealogy filing system.

Some researchers organize files by surname. Others use couples, family groups, geographic locations, or record types.

Use whatever makes sense to your brain.

What matters is that you can find something again.

If you’ve ever downloaded a death certificate and then spent forty-five minutes trying to figure out where you put it, your filing system has just submitted its resignation.

Folders and consistent filenames make an enormous difference once your collection begins to grow.

5. Back It Up

A copy on your computer is better than relying entirely on a genealogy website.

But one copy still isn’t a backup.

A useful approach for important digital files is the 3-2-1 rule:

3 copies of your files
2 different types of storage
1 copy stored off-site

For example, you might have your working genealogy files on your computer, a backup on an external drive, and another encrypted or appropriately secured copy in cloud storage.

You don’t have to use those exact methods. The point is not to let one hard-drive failure, lost laptop, house disaster, or corrupted file take your family history with it.

And don’t forget to check your backups occasionally. A backup that stopped running two years ago is mostly decorative.

6. Don’t Forget Your Photographs

The same rules apply to family photographs.

Keep high-quality copies. Give them useful filenames. Record who is pictured, when and where the photograph was taken if known, and who owns or provided the original.

That last part can become surprisingly important.

A folder containing Grandma.jpg, Grandma2.jpg, OldGrandma.jpg, and MaybeGrandma.jpg is not an archival system.

It’s a cry for help.

Your Research Deserves Better Than a Bookmark

We spend hours, months, and even years finding these records.

Preserving them should be part of the research process.

So the next time you find a census page, marriage record, death certificate, passenger list, military record, or another important piece of your family’s history, don’t just click Save to Tree.

Download it.

Name it.

Cite it.

Organize it.

Back it up.

Because finding the record is only half the job.

Keeping it is the other half.

Marija Ĺ vegelj: From the Kolpa Valley to America

Marija Ĺ vegelj left Stari Trg ob Kolpi for America in 1914. Following her family backward revealed Gottscheer ancestors, changing surnames, villages with multiple names, and a homeland whose borders changed around the people who lived there.

My second great-grandmother Marija Ĺ vegelj, later known in America as Mary Swegel, was born on 19 November 1867, in Stari Trg ob Kolpi, in what is now Slovenia.

Her story has taken me into one of the more complicated corners of my family tree, where villages had German and Slovenian names, surnames changed spelling from one record to another, and families lived in a region shaped by several languages and cultures.

It also led me to discover my family’s connection to the Gottscheers.

Marija’s Family in Stari Trg ob Kolpi

Marija was the daughter of JoĹľef Ĺ vegelj and Marija Koce.

Her younger sister Katarina was born in 1870, and she also had brothers JoĹľef and Peter.

Marija was only nine years old when her mother died in June 1877. Her younger sister Katarina had already died, leaving JoĹľef with three young children.

Only two months after his wife’s death, JoĹľef married Marija Sterk. They went on to have seven more children.

It is easy to reduce a family like this to names and dates in a tree. But for nine-year-old Marija, the changes came quickly. She lost her mother, had already lost a little sister, and then found herself part of a newly blended and growing household.

Those records tell us more than who was related to whom. They give us a glimpse of the family in which Marija grew up.

Discovering the Gottscheer Connection

When I first began researching this branch, I quickly discovered that modern maps weren’t going to tell the whole story.

Stari Trg ob Kolpi lies in the Kolpa Valley in southeastern Slovenia, in the historic region of White Carniola. But my research into Marija’s family also led to the records and families studied by the Gottscheer Heritage & Genealogy Association.

Gottscheer Heritage & Genealogy Association

The Gottscheers were a German-speaking community whose ancestors had settled in the region of Carniola beginning in the Middle Ages. Over the centuries, they developed their own German dialect, commonly called Gottscheerisch, and a distinct regional identity. The historical Gottschee area was centered around present-day KoÄŤevje, but the genealogical records and interconnected families extend into surrounding parishes and communities.

My own research through GHGA included the parish of Altenmarkt, now Stari Trg ob Kolpi, and helped me trace several branches of Marija’s ancestry.

One of those was her Fugina line.

My research through the Gottscheer Heritage & Genealogy Association opened this branch of the family considerably. Using its genealogical collections and assistance from a GHGA genealogist, I was able to trace several families connected to Marija’s ancestry.

In her Fugina line, the research identified Katharina Fugina as the daughter of Jakob Fugina and Margaretha Rom, both Gottscheers. The same research took me into the parish records of Altenmarkt, now Stari Trg ob Kolpi, and surrounding villages.

That gave me something much more valuable than simply attaching a label to Marija’s ancestry. It gave me families, places, and records to follow.

One Family, Several Spellings

Researching this part of my family taught me very quickly not to become attached to one spelling of anything.

People and places could appear under German or Slovenian names, and surnames changed depending upon the language of the record, the priest who wrote it, and the period in which it was created.

In related branches of this family, I encountered names such as Schutte and Šutej, Michelitsch, and Illitsch and Ilić.

Even Ĺ vegelj itself would eventually become the much easier-to-spell Swegel in America.

Place names could be just as challenging. Altenmarkt is Stari Trg ob Kolpi. Oberberg appears as Gorenja Podgora. Schmiddorf has a modern Slovenian name.

For a genealogist, this is more than an interesting language lesson.

If I search only the modern Slovenian name or the spelling my family eventually used in America, I can miss the very record I’m looking for.

That lesson has stayed with me throughout my research: search the person in the language, place, and time in which the record was created.

Following the Family to America

Several members of Marija’s family left Europe before she did.

Marija remained behind until 1914, when she finally crossed the Atlantic after her children were already in America.

That date matters.

She wasn’t leaving the post-World War II world that would eventually devastate the historic Gottscheer community. She left before the First World War transformed Europe and before the collapse of Austria-Hungary redrew the political map of the region.

When Marija departed in 1914, she was leaving a homeland that was itself on the edge of enormous change.

Within months, Europe would be at war.

The country names found in records for Marija and her relatives can therefore vary depending upon when the document was created. The village didn’t necessarily move.

The borders did.

That’s another lesson this family taught me. When an ancestor appears to have been born in Austria in one record, Slovenia in another, and Yugoslavia somewhere else, don’t immediately assume you’ve found three different people.

Get out the historical maps first.

The Gottschee They Left Behind

The history of Gottschee after Marija’s departure was devastating.

Following the breakup of Austria-Hungary after World War I, the Gottschee region became part of the new Kingdom of Serbs, Croats and Slovenes, later Yugoslavia. The German-speaking Gottscheers became an ethnic minority within the new state.

World War II brought far greater upheaval.

After the Axis invasion of Yugoslavia in 1941, most of the Gottscheer population was resettled from its historic homeland during the winter of 1941–1942. War, displacement, and the political upheavals that followed scattered a community that had lived in the region for centuries.

That history belongs to the larger story of Marija’s ancestral community, but it wasn’t the reason she immigrated.

By then, Marija had already been in America for decades.

That distinction matters to me now. Family history becomes much more interesting when we place our ancestors within history without making historical events happen to them simply because they happened in the same place.

What Marija Left Me

When I originally researched this branch, I was thrilled simply to reach another generation.

Then another.

And another.

Suddenly names that had seemed almost impossible to research were carrying me into the late 1700s.

I also learned that researching this family requires flexibility.

Ĺ vegelj becomes Swegel.

Ĺ utej becomes Schutte.

Ilić becomes Illitsch.

A village may have one name in Slovenian and another in German.

A birthplace can appear under several countries during one person’s lifetime without the family ever moving.

And behind all of those spellings are the same people.

That’s what keeps me coming back to Marija.

She connects my family to a small corner of Central Europe with a complicated history, documented Gottscheer roots, and generations of families whose names survived in records even as languages, governments, and borders changed around them.

Marija left Stari Trg ob Kolpi for America in 1914.

More than a century later, following her backward through those records has taken me home again.

Sometimes, It’s the Answers You Don’t Find

What happens when repeated searches fail to confirm a family story? One unusual research mystery shows why the records we don’t find can matter, and why “not found” doesn’t always mean “didn’t happen.”

A weathered brick wall featuring a large white question mark, with a street sign labeled 'Smith Street' in the foreground.

Photo by Matt Walsh on Unsplash

Genealogists spend a lot of time looking for records.

Birth certificates. Death certificates. Newspaper articles. Obituaries. Court records. Anything that will answer the question we’re chasing.

But every once in a while, the records we don’t find are just as interesting.

A few years ago, I received an email from a man in the United Kingdom who was looking for an old friend. I’ll call him “TH.”

I’ll admit that I nearly ignored the first message. A stranger from overseas asking me to help find someone sounded suspiciously like the beginning of an email involving an inheritance from an uncle I didn’t know I had.

Then he wrote again.

And this time, the genealogist in me got curious.

A Friend Who Disappeared

TH was trying to learn what had happened to a friend who had reportedly died in the United States.

His friend had worked as a psychiatric nurse in the UK and traveled to the United States through his work. At some point, he also began using a different surname. TH believed the change might have been made by deed poll.

The story surrounding his death was even more unusual.

TH had heard that his friend died in America after being hit by a train, or possibly after being struck by debris from a train.

His friend’s brother apparently traveled from England to the United States after the death to handle the arrangements. When TH later contacted him, however, the brother would not discuss what had happened.

TH didn’t believe his friend’s body had been returned to the UK.

That was about all we had.

No exact birth date. No exact death date. No location in the United States.

Not exactly a researcher’s dream starting point.

The First Break

My early searches went nowhere.

I searched newspapers and other available records, but without knowing where or exactly when the man had died, there simply wasn’t enough information to narrow the search.

Then TH found something important.

Using records obtained through Reclaim The Records, he located his friend in a New Jersey death index.

Now we had an exact date of death and additional identifying information.

That allowed me to locate information about his friend’s birth family and confirm that we were researching the right person.

There was also a small lesson tucked into the dates. TH had been very close when recalling his friend’s birth information, but British and American dates are written differently. A date written as 6/5 can mean 6 May to someone in Britain and June 5 to an American.

In genealogy, even punctuation can cause trouble.

What About the Name Change?

The surname change was another part of the mystery.

I contacted The National Archives in the United Kingdom and asked about deed poll records.

A Remote Enquiries Duty Officer searched but found no enrolled deed poll for the name change.

That sounds important, but it doesn’t prove that the man never changed his name.

The Archives explained that a deed poll only became part of the official court record if someone paid to have it enrolled. Many people did not. In those cases, the original deed might have remained only with the individual.

That unsuccessful search actually told us something useful:

No enrolled deed poll was found. It did not tell us that no name change occurred.

That’s an important distinction in genealogy.

And Then There Was the Train

The reported train accident seemed as though it should leave a trail.

By this point, we knew that TH’s friend died in New Jersey in 1995. I contacted the New Jersey State Library, where a researcher searched the Morristown Daily Record around the date of death.

She searched for his name and also tried broader terms related to trains and train accidents.

Nothing.

She expanded the search through New Jersey newspapers available through NewsBank.

Still nothing.

I then heard from the New Jersey History and Genealogy Center. They searched additional newspapers from the same period.

Again, nothing.

Now things were getting interesting.

When “Nothing” Matters

An unsuccessful search does not automatically prove that something didn’t happen.

That’s worth repeating.

If I search one newspaper database for a person’s name and get no results, I haven’t proven anything except that I didn’t find the person in that particular search.

Maybe the newspaper isn’t digitized. Maybe the name was misspelled. Maybe the article wasn’t indexed properly. Maybe I searched the wrong date or place. Maybe the event simply wasn’t reported.

Genealogists call this a negative finding.

Negative evidence is stronger. It develops when information we would reasonably expect to find is absent from appropriate records, particularly when that absence is considered alongside other evidence.

In this case, several researchers searched multiple newspaper collections using the man’s name, the known date and location, and broader searches for a train accident.

We still couldn’t establish that a fatal train incident occurred.

That does not prove TH’s friend didn’t die that way.

But it does mean I wouldn’t state that he did.

The family story and the documented evidence had parted company.

Keep Track of the Dead Ends

This is also why I keep track of unsuccessful searches.

Write down:

  • what collection you searched
  • what names and spelling variations you tried
  • the date range and location you covered
  • what search terms you used
  • what the collection actually includes
  • the date you searched it
  • what you found, including “nothing”

That last one matters.

Otherwise, six months from now, you’ll discover the same database, get excited, search it again, find nothing again, and wonder why the whole experience feels strangely familiar.

Ask me how I know.

A research log turns “I couldn’t find it” into useful information.

The Mystery Remains

I eventually built a small family tree for TH’s friend and identified his biological parents, but nothing I found explained the circumstances of his death.

And the two questions I had then are still the questions I would ask today:

Did he actually die in a train-related accident?

And:

What happened that TH never knew about?

I don’t know.

The brother’s unwillingness to discuss the death isn’t evidence of anything by itself. There could be countless personal reasons someone would choose not to discuss a sibling’s death, and it wouldn’t be responsible to speculate.

The death certificate might answer the first question, but access restrictions prevented TH, who was not a relative, from obtaining it at the time.

So this research ended without the satisfying answer we all want.

But it wasn’t a failure.

We established the man’s identity. We found his death in New Jersey. We confirmed his birth family. We learned why the absence of an enrolled deed poll couldn’t settle the name-change question. And repeated newspaper searches failed to substantiate the story of a fatal train accident.

That’s progress.

Genealogy isn’t about forcing the evidence to give us an answer.

It’s about figuring out exactly what the evidence does tell us, recognizing what it doesn’t, and knowing the difference.

And every once in a while, the most important thing you discover is that the story you’ve been trying to prove still hasn’t been proven.

The hunt continues.

As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases.

Prime: Free 30-day trial for eligible new members, plus all the benefits of Prime. https://amzn.to/4rFoiRk

Before You Cross the Ocean, Find the Town

Knowing that your ancestor came from Scotland, Ireland, or another country is only the beginning. Records created after immigration may help narrow their origin to the town, parish, village, or even farm you need to find.

“My ancestor came from New Zealand.”

Good start.

Where in New Zealand?

“New Zealand.”

We’re going to need a little more than that.

Country of origin is useful, but it usually isn’t specific enough to begin serious research overseas. Scotland, Ireland, England, New Zealand, Germany, and other countries had thousands of parishes, villages, estates, farms, and towns. Searching an entire country for one person can produce a mountain of records and very little confidence that any of them belong to your family.

Before I spend much time searching overseas records, I want to narrow down the location as much as possible.

Start Where the Family Settled

The best clue to an immigrant’s birthplace may be sitting in records created after immigration.

Death records, obituaries, naturalization papers, church records, military records, marriage records, passenger lists, probate files, and newspaper notices may give a county, parish, town, or village.

Later census records can help too, although they often give only the country. Don’t stop with the immigrant.

Research the spouse, children, siblings, and other relatives. One person may have a death certificate that says only “England,” while a brother’s obituary names the exact parish.

I’ve had research problems move forward because a sibling left a better record than the person I was actually researching.

Look at the People Who Came With Them

Immigrants rarely appeared in a new place with no connections at all. They may have traveled with relatives, joined people they already knew, married into another family from the same area, or settled near people from home.

If several families from Ireland appear together in Nova Scotia, Pennsylvania, or another destination, I want to know where those other families came from too.

A neighbor’s birthplace may eventually help identify your ancestor’s.

This is one reason I pay attention to witnesses, sponsors, adjoining landowners, and people who keep appearing in the same records.

Learn the Geography Before You Search

Old place names can be confusing.

A record may give a parish, but the family actually lived on a farm or estate within that parish. Another source may use the farm name instead of the parish. A nearby village may be the place mentioned in later records.

That can make records look unrelated when they are describing the same small area. Maps, gazetteers, estate records, parish histories, and place-name references can help sort this out. Knowing that two tiny places were only a short distance apart can change how you read the evidence.

It can also help you avoid rejecting a record because the place name looks unfamiliar.

Tiny Places Can Be Better Clues Than Big Ones

A county may still contain many people with the same surname. A farm name is much narrower.

If your ancestor is repeatedly associated with one estate, village, or small locality, pay attention to it. Those names may show up in church registers, tax records, estate papers, leases, rentals, maps, and records involving neighboring families.

In Scottish research especially, a small locality can be far more useful than a broad statement such as “born in Ross-shire.”

The smaller the place, the more focused your search becomes.

Be Careful With Online Trees

Online family trees can be helpful for ideas, but a precise birthplace with no source deserves caution. A tree may say someone was born in a particular parish because another person with the same name was baptized there.

That does not make it correct.

Before using a birthplace from someone else’s tree, make sure you know where it came from. If there is no record, citation, family document, or explanation behind it, treat it as a clue.

Not as a fact.

Search the Family Before You Search the Country

If you know only that your ancestor came from Scotland, Ireland, or another country, spend more time on the records created where the family later lived.

Look for the sibling who lived longer. Look for the child whose death record gives more detail. Check the church the family joined. Read the obituary. Look at naturalization records. Follow the neighbors and relatives who migrated with them.

One good place name can save hours of searching overseas.

“Born in New Zealand” gives you an enormous search area.

“From Lambton in Wellington” gives you somewhere to start looking.

Prime: Free 30-day trial for eligible new members, plus all the benefits of Prime. https://amzn.to/4rFoiRk

Go Back and Read It Again

A genealogy record you studied years ago may have more to tell you now. Going back with fresh knowledge can reveal names, places, witnesses, and connections you didn’t recognize the first time.

I have records in my genealogy files that I’ve looked at more times than I can count.

Then I’ll open one again months or even years later and notice something I completely missed. It isn’t necessarily because I read it badly the first time. I simply didn’t know enough yet to understand what I was looking at.

A name that meant nothing to me six months ago may now be someone I recognize. A place I skimmed past may turn out to be important. Even a witness I ignored may suddenly connect two families I’ve been trying to sort out.

That’s why I go back to old records.

You Know More Now

The first time you find a baptism record, you may be interested mainly in the child and the parents. Later, after you’ve spent some time researching the family, you may notice the witnesses.

One of those witnesses has a surname you’ve now seen in several other records. Another lives in a place you’ve recently learned was only a short distance from the family’s home. None of that information changed. Your knowledge did.

The more you learn about a family, the neighborhood, and the records themselves, the more useful an old document can become.

Read the Image, Not Just the Index

Indexes are wonderful for finding records, but they aren’t the record. If an original image is available, I want to see it.

A transcription may give you a name, date, and parish. The image may also tell you where the family lived, what the father’s occupation was, who witnessed the event, or how the minister described someone. And oftentimes, the transcription is simply wrong.

I’ve seen names that made perfect sense in an index until I looked at the image and realized the handwriting could be read another way.

That can change the search considerably.

Look at the Records Around It

I also like to look at the entries before and after the one I came for. This has been especially useful while working with church records.

Families often appear repeatedly in the same register. Neighbors show up as witnesses. The same surnames turn up again and again. A farm or estate name may appear with several families who were connected in ways you haven’t figured out yet.

If you only save the one entry returned by the search, you can miss that context. I’ll go through several pages. If I’m working on a difficult problem, I may go through much more than that.

It isn’t fascinating research, but neither is discovering later that the clue you needed was two lines below the record you downloaded.

Handwriting Gets Easier With Familiarity

Old handwriting can be miserable at first. You don’t need to be a professional at reading historical handwriting.

One of the best ways I’ve found to deal with it is to keep reading the same person’s handwriting.

If a minister or clerk wrote an entire register, you begin to recognize how he formed certain letters. A word that looked impossible on one page becomes much easier after you’ve seen the same letters used in names or words you already know.

The surrounding entries can help here too. If you’re unsure whether a place name begins with an L or an S, find other words on the page that begin with those letters and compare them.

You don’t always need a handwriting expert. You just need more examples of the handwriting.

Old Research Deserves Another Look Too

This doesn’t apply only to historical records.

Go back through your own old research occasionally. Look at the records you saved when you first started working on the family. Read your notes. Check the sources attached to your tree. Open some of those images again.

You may be surprised by what you notice now. You may not have noticed the importance of a particular surname when you first saw it. Maybe you’ve since learned that two places mentioned in separate records were neighboring farms. It could be a person you thought was unrelated has now appeared three more times.

Research builds on itself. A record that answered one question five years ago may help answer a completely different question today. I’ve learned not to assume that because I already have a record, I’ve gotten everything I can from it.

That record deserves another turn.

Prime: Free 30-day trial for eligible new members, plus all the benefits of Prime. https://amzn.to/4rFoiRk

Are You Sure That’s the Same Man?

Finding the right name in a genealogy record doesn’t always mean you’ve found the right person. Learn how timelines, locations, associates, and other clues can help separate same-name ancestors.

Finding the right name in a genealogy record is exciting.

Finding the right person is a different matter.

This becomes especially important when you’re researching a common name. If your ancestor was named John Brown, William Smith, or even William Logan, there may have been several men with that name living in the same general area at the same time.

Sometimes they were even close to the same age.

That’s when things can get messy.

The Name Matches. What Else Matches?

Suppose you’re researching a William Logan who lived in Pennsylvania in the early 1800s.

You find a tax record for William Logan in the correct county. Then you find a land record for William Logan. A marriage appears. So does a census record.

It would be very easy to attach all four records to your William.

But before doing that, you need to know whether there was more than one William Logan in the area.

The tax record may belong to one man and the land record to another. The William who married in 1812 may not be the William who appears with your family in the 1820 census.

A matching name gets my attention, but I want more before I decide where the record belongs.

Build the Timeline First

One of the simplest ways to sort out people with the same name is to build a timeline.

Put every record you find in chronological order, including the ones you’re not sure about.

Add the date, location, occupation, spouse, children, neighbors, witnesses, land descriptions, church affiliation, and anything else that might help identify the person.

Once everything is lined up, problems often become easier to see.

Your John Brown is documented in Virginia in March 1810, but another John Brown is buying land in Kentucky two weeks later. Could they be the same man? Possibly, depending on the circumstances.

But now you have a question that needs answering instead of two records quietly sitting in the same family tree.

Give Them Separate Identities

When I suspect I’m dealing with two people who share a name, I separate them while I work.

William Logan #1 might be the farmer living near Mill Creek.

William Logan #2 might be the blacksmith whose wife was Margaret.

Those aren’t permanent names. They’re simply a way to keep the evidence from getting mixed together before I’ve figured out who is who.

This is especially useful when several records could reasonably belong to either man.

It also keeps me from deciding too early that every William Logan in the search results must be mine.

Look at the People Around Them

The people connected to a record can be more useful than the name you’re searching.

Who witnessed the marriage?

Who lived next door?

Who served as bondsman?

Who witnessed the deed?

Who appeared with the family at church?

Who administered the estate?

If the same group of people keeps appearing around one William Logan, you’ve started building a network around him. Another William Logan may have an entirely different set of associates.

Family, friends, neighbors, witnesses, and business associates can help separate two men whose names alone cannot.

Pay Attention to the Small Differences

Occupation can help. So can land ownership, tax status, military service, church membership, and the names of wives and children.

Even the way a man is described in a record may matter.

One record might identify William Logan as “Sr.” Another might call someone “William Logan, blacksmith.” A deed may include a residence or the name of adjoining landowners.

Those details are easy to skim past when you’re focused on finding a name, but they may be exactly what you need to tell two people apart.

Record Hints Can Make This Worse

Online record hints are useful, but they don’t know your ancestor.

A hint is usually telling you that something about the record resembles information already in your tree. It isn’t telling you that the identity has been proved.

If there are three John Browns of roughly the same age in the same county, the computer has the same problem you do.

Except it doesn’t have to clean up your tree afterward.

Before accepting a hint, I want to know why I believe that record belongs to my person. Sometimes the answer is obvious. Sometimes it takes more work.

It’s Okay to Leave a Record Unassigned

This is probably one of the most useful habits I’ve developed. If I find a record that might belong to my ancestor but I can’t prove it yet, I don’t have to attach it.

I can save it. I can cite it in my research notes. I can put it in the timeline with a question mark. I can come back to it later when I’ve learned more.

There is nothing wrong with saying, “I don’t know which William Logan this is yet.” That’s much easier than discovering six months later that you’ve built part of your family around the wrong William.

I’ve become much less excited when I see the right name in a search result. Now I want to know whether he is the right person.

That takes a little longer, but it saves a tremendous amount of cleanup later.

Prime: Free 30-day trial for eligible new members, plus all the benefits of Prime. https://amzn.to/4rFoiRk

When a Name Isn’t Quite a Name: Searching for the Ancestor Who Keeps Changing His Name

Our ancestors’ names didn’t always stay neatly spelled from one record to the next. Learn how to search surname variations without assuming every similar name belongs to the same person.

I’ve been spending an unreasonable amount of time lately looking for people named Logan who sometimes weren’t named Logan.

In one Scottish research project, the surname appears in records as Loban, Lobban, and Logan.

Are they variations of the same surname? In some cases, perhaps. Does that mean every Loban I find can be turned into a Logan and attached to the family I’m researching?

Absolutely not.

It does mean I have to search for all of them.

Spelling Wasn’t Always Consistent

We are used to our names having an official spelling. It’s on our driver’s license, bank account, tax return, and everything else that follows us around.

Earlier records weren’t created in that world.

A minister, clerk, census taker, or registrar might write the name. Sometimes the person being recorded could sign it himself. Sometimes he couldn’t.

Accents mattered. Literacy mattered. The person holding the pen mattered.

And spelling could change from one record to the next.

I’ve seen the same surname spelled several ways within the records of one family.

That doesn’t mean spelling never mattered to our ancestors. It means we shouldn’t expect modern consistency from older records.

Search Beyond the Spelling You Know

If someone disappears from the records, I start experimenting with the name.

Take McLennan.

I might try McLennan, MacLennan, McLennon, McLellan, and other reasonable variations. If the database allows wildcards, I’ll try those too.

Then I start removing information from the search.

That sounds backward, but overly specific searches can hide the person you’re trying to find.

If I know Alexander was born around 1820 in Scotland, married to Margaret, and living in a particular county in 1860, I don’t necessarily need his surname to find the household.

I can search for Margaret.

I can search for one of the children.

I can search by first name, approximate age, birthplace, and location.

I’ve found people by searching for everyone in the family except the person I originally wanted.

First Names Wander Too

Elizabeth may become Betsy or Eliza.

Margaret may become Maggie or Peggie.

William may be Will or Bill.

Someone who normally used a middle name might appear under a first name in another record.

Initials created their own mess.

I keep track of the variations I actually find. I don’t change the record to make it match the spelling I prefer.

If the baptism says Loban, my transcription says Loban.

If another record says Logan, I record Logan.

The spelling itself is part of the record.

Similar Names Don’t Prove Similar People

There is another trap here.

Once you get comfortable with spelling variations, it becomes easy to stretch them too far.

Suppose I find a Kenneth Loban and later a Kenneth Logan in the same general area.

The ages are close.

Interesting.

But I still don’t know whether they were the same man.

Now I need more.

Where did each man live?

What was his occupation?

Who was his wife?

What were his children’s names?

Who witnessed his records?

Did he own or rent land?

Which church did he attend?

Who lived around him?

The surname variation tells me these records might belong to the same person. Everything else has to help me decide whether they actually do.

That difference has been particularly important in some of the Scottish research I’ve been doing lately.

Keep What the Record Says

I wish more online family trees preserved original name spellings. One thing that particularly bothers me is when people use the correction or edit feature to change a name simply because they believe it should be spelled differently, or because that is how the family spells it today. That isn’t what the correction feature is for.

If a census actually says Logane, don’t change it to Logan just because Logan is the spelling you recognize or use today. The record says Logane, and that is what the transcription should reflect.

On the other hand, if the original record clearly says Logane but the indexer or transcriber entered Logine, then a correction to Logane is appropriate. You are correcting the transcription to match the record, not correcting the ancestor’s spelling to match what you think it should have been.

If a record says Lobban, don’t silently change it to Logan and forget that Lobban ever appeared.

You can use a standardized version of the person’s name in your tree once you have established the identity. Just preserve the original form somewhere in your transcription, notes, or citation.

You may need it later.

A spelling that looks insignificant today might help you recognize another record tomorrow.

It might be common to a particular parish or family.

Or it may turn out to have nothing to do with anything.

That’s allowed too.

Try the Wrong Name

When someone disappears, don’t immediately assume they died or moved.

Try spelling the name differently.

Try a nickname.

Search for the spouse.

Search for the children.

Remove the surname completely.

And when you find a promising record under a different spelling, don’t immediately change the name in your tree and call it solved.

Compare the rest of the evidence first.

Sometimes our ancestors aren’t missing at all.

They’re sitting right there in the records under a spelling we never thought to type into the search box.

Prime: Free 30-day trial for eligible new members, plus all the benefits of Prime. https://amzn.to/4rFoiRk

Stop Researching Your Ancestor

Yes, I know.

That is strange advice on a genealogy blog.

But if you’ve searched for the same person 847 different ways and you’re still getting nowhere, stop.

Leave Grandpa alone for a while.

Go bother his neighbors.

Our Trees Give Us Tunnel Vision

Most of us build family trees upward.

You.

Parents.

Grandparents.

Great-grandparents.

Keep going until somebody disappears into the mist.

That makes sense for organizing a family tree, but it isn’t how people actually lived.

Your ancestors had brothers and sisters. They had cousins, in-laws, neighbors, friends, business partners, employers, church members, and probably at least one person in town they couldn’t stand.

They belonged to communities.

When direct records stop giving me answers, I start looking sideways.

Genealogists usually call this cluster research or FAN research. FAN stands for Friends, Associates, and Neighbors.

It’s a fancy name for being nosy about everybody.

I’m quite good at that.

Start With the Census Page You Already Have

Pull up a census where you know you’ve found the right family.

Now look around them.

Who lives next door?

Who lives a few households away?

Do any surnames keep appearing?

Are there people born in the same unusual place?

If your Scottish ancestor is surrounded by people born locally except for two Scottish families living nearby, I’d write those names down.

They may be relatives.

They may have come from the same parish.

They may have immigrated together.

They may have absolutely nothing to do with each other.

Don’t decide yet.

Just notice.

Follow the Land

I’ve spent a ridiculous amount of time in land records lately.

They are worth it.

Who sold your ancestor the property?

Who witnessed the transaction?

Who owned the adjoining land?

Did familiar names buy property nearby?

Did several families sell their land around the same time?

Then look at where everybody went.

I’ve been working with families who moved from Scotland to Nova Scotia, and land records have been especially useful for sorting out who was living near whom and which names repeatedly appeared together.

That doesn’t make them relatives.

I know I keep saying that, but it matters.

We’re looking for patterns first.

Relationships have to be proven.

Research the Siblings

If Grandpa refuses to tell you who his parents were, try his sister.

I’m serious.

Your ancestor may have a useless death record.

His sister’s death certificate may name both parents.

Your ancestor may have no obituary.

His brother may have received half a newspaper column describing where he was born, when he immigrated, who his siblings were, and where everyone moved.

Why?

Because genealogy enjoys tormenting us.

Research every sibling you can identify.

Follow them through censuses.

Find their marriages.

Look for their death records.

Read their obituaries.

Find out where their children went.

I have solved questions about one person by researching somebody else in the family more times than I can count.

Watch Who Moves Together

This is another thing I pay much more attention to now.

Families didn’t always move alone.

Relatives moved together.

Neighbors followed one another.

Friends and church members moved to the same places.

Someone who had already settled in a new area might encourage people back home to come join them.

So when your family disappears from one place and pops up somewhere else, look around the new neighborhood.

Do you recognize anybody?

Then go back to the old neighborhood.

Were those families there too?

Now I’m interested.

Keep a Side List

You don’t need to add every person you encounter to your family tree.

Keep a separate list.

I usually want:

Name
Approximate age
Birthplace
Spouse
Where they lived
How they connect to the family I’m researching
Where I’ve seen them before

After a while, certain names may start repeating.

Those are the people I investigate.

Some will lead nowhere.

Others may lead straight through the brick wall you’ve been banging your head against.

The Answer May Be Next Door

This kind of research becomes even more useful as we move farther back in time.

Records get thinner.

Women disappear behind their husbands’ names.

Censuses stop naming everyone in the household.

Birth and death records may not exist.

That’s when the people surrounding the family can help put the pieces together.

So if you have searched Grandpa’s name every possible way and he still isn’t cooperating, give him a rest.

Research his brother.

His neighbor.

The witness on his deed.

The family living three farms away.

Go sideways for a while.

Grandpa will still be there when you get back.

And with any luck, you’ll know a whole lot more about him.

Prime: Free 30-day trial for eligible new members, plus all the benefits of Prime. https://amzn.to/4rFoiRk

When the Evidence Changes the Family Tree

I changed my mind about someone recently.

Genealogically speaking.

I had been working with a possibility that two people might actually have been the same man.

The dates made it possible. Other pieces of the family story made it worth investigating. I certainly didn’t have enough evidence to say they were the same person, but I had enough to wonder.

So I wondered.

And researched.

Then more evidence came along.

Nope.

Two men.

Fine.

I’ll just be over here rearranging everything.

This Happens

When you’re working on a family with missing records, repeated names, questionable dates, and people who apparently considered leaving a clear paper trail beneath them, you have to develop theories.

There is nothing wrong with that.

The problem comes when we forget which parts are theories.

That’s why I’ve become pretty particular about the words I use in my research notes.

Confirmed.

Probable.

Possible.

Unproven.

Conflicting.

Those words keep me from turning “this could be him” into “this is him” somewhere along the way.

It is surprisingly easy to do.

I Really Thought It Might Be Him

In this particular case, I had good reasons to keep the possibility open.

Then family photographs and additional records supported the existence of two separate men.

That didn’t mean the earlier research was bad.

The evidence changed.

So did my conclusion.

I could have tried to explain away the new information because it didn’t fit my theory.

That would have been a terrible idea.

Unfortunately, once we become attached to a theory, explaining away inconvenient evidence can be awfully tempting.

Especially after we’ve spent three weeks on it.

Write Down the Problem

If records disagree, I don’t like forcing them into agreement.

Say one record gives a birth year of 1826.

Another points toward 1827.

Don’t quietly pick one because it fits your tree better.

Write down both.

Then start comparing everything you can find.

How close was each record created to the actual birth?

Who supplied the information?

Would that person have known?

Are there other records?

Could two people with similar names be getting mixed together?

Could both people actually exist?

That last possibility deserves more attention than it sometimes gets.

Families reused names constantly.

Cousins could have the same name.

A child could be named for another child who died, although don’t assume the first child died without finding evidence.

Two men with the same name could live in the same county.

And just when you think you’ve sorted them out, one of them will marry a woman with the same first name as the other one’s wife.

Because genealogy.

Don’t Ignore What the Family Kept

The evidence that changed my recent theory included material preserved by the family.

Photographs, letters, Bibles, diaries, funeral cards, and family recollections don’t automatically outrank official records.

They don’t automatically rank below them, either.

You still have to ask questions.

Who labeled the photograph?

When?

Was the label contemporary or added fifty years later?

Who wrote the Bible entry?

Was the person there when the event happened?

Who told the story?

A photograph labeled by someone’s daughter during his lifetime is different from one labeled by a great-grandchild who never met him.

Both are clues.

They just aren’t the same kind of evidence.

The Tree Is Allowed to Change

I think this is hard for some researchers, especially after years of work.

Removing a relationship can feel like admitting you were wrong.

Well, sometimes we were.

Welcome to genealogy.

We work with the records we have. Then another record turns up, and we know more than we did before.

I’d much rather change my tree than spend the next ten years researching the wrong family because I couldn’t bear to let go of an old conclusion.

And sometimes the best answer really is:

We don’t know.

I know.

Terribly unsatisfying.

But “we don’t know” leaves the question open for more research. A made-up answer sends everyone down the wrong road.

I’ve kept one phrase from this whole recent adventure because I think it’s worth remembering:

A good genealogist isn’t the person who never gets it wrong.

It’s the person willing to change their mind when the evidence says they should.

I still would have preferred being right the first time.

Just saying.