I just read a hilarious article in the latest O magazine
wherein Leslie Larson becomes addicted to Ancestry.com. While I laughed I was yet grim as I
recognized the signs in myself while plowing through the Danish State Archives
and the Danish Demographic Database. Anyone
with a hint of the Genealogy Whisperer in them will know the signs of a DNA
addict. Just saying the words “my
grandparent” can be a warning sign and a sure clue is “my great grandmother”. At that point, you are done for.
There is
something exciting about recognizing a family name in a database and I will
never forget the first thrill of recognizing the siblings of my grandfather.
Yes, yes, yes, now I am on to them.
Imagine the discovery of my long lost great grandmother’s name (Caroline
Sofie). I broke into a sweat when I saw
Tante Olga’s extended name (Olga Julie Elisabeth) and Tante Katinka (Katinka
Maria). I vibrated when I found Kathinka
on the ship Indirekte’s manifest leaving Aalborg for St. Paul in 1904. Could that be our Katinka? This said she was unmarried so it may be
doubtful as my information was that she was already married when she departed
for America. Hmmm But how many Katinka’s could there be with
our last name heading off from our home city to St. Paul, Minnesota in the
close timeframe. Surely none. Family history must be erroneous . . . told
to young people who didn’t have the facts straight?
Yes, a whole thread of the fabric of
family history may be undone by digging into something without
confirmation. And there is the
temptation to fly down the wrong path because the attractiveness of a more glamorous
ancestor awaits down path A when all true evidence points to path B. At the end of the day, I am a realist and I
want the true facts, ma’am, the true facts.
And so I still pursue the hidden path, determined to find that great,
great grandfather, the Colonel.
Happy
hunting.
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