Apparently, making hats could be a lucrative business in the 19th century. Several of the brothers of Aaron Day, my fourth great grandfather, had taken up the trade, which they likely learned from their uncle, Daniel Day. Aaron’s oldest brother, John, resided in Starks, Maine, and his great granddaughter, Lucy Hutchkins, wrote the following: Continue reading
Author Archives: Lauren Mahieu
Stuff. Yup, genealogists collect a lot of stuff. We save stuff from the web, stuff we’ve been emailed, and yes, stuff we’ve created.
Lots of my stuff is saved in Evernote. Lots of it is in Microsoft Word. Some of it is in Excel. (I live by my spreadsheets!) Of course, there’s stuff saved from online books, databases, microfilm images, digital maps, mind maps, charts, and graphs and…well…you get the picture. There’s S-T-U-F-F all over my hard drive.
Usually this isn’t problematic, but sometimes I forget what stuff I’ve already collected. Despite my best efforts at keeping notes and research logs, if something is out of sight, it’s out of mind.
That’s why I LOVE Zengobi’s Curio!!! It’s became my favorite Go To app – it’s a must-have, can’t-live-without app that lets me take all that stuff and organize it how I see fit. Best yet, it interfaces with Evernote, allowing me to drag my Evernote notes into folders or blank “idea spaces,” which are blank pages that can be utilized to save images or other information. (Unfortunately, the interface is only one way – you can save and view the Evernote page, but cannot update Evernote from within Curio.)
Mostly I’m using Curio to organize info. I am in the middle of tracing my Tibbetts family, a line which I’ve just begun researching. Curio let’s me take all that info and organize it in folders or sections. So, when I find information from a book, I can either save it directly into Curio using it as a note, I can save the image on my hard drive and drag it into a Curio folder, or I can save the info into Evernote and place it in Curio….the options are quite varied. The bottom line is I can save the info however I like, in a format that makes the most sense for me. Continue reading
Autosomal DNA. One of the most powerful tools in the genealogist’s toolbox! No, it will never, ever replace the elbow grease required in completing an accurate family tree (nor would I want it to – it would spoil the fun of the hunt!), but used correctly, the results are incredible!
I’ve previously shared how I used autosomal DNA to determine the parents my third great grandmother, Cynthia Day. (You can read the post here.) No, the DNA itself didn’t tell me who they were, but cousin connections put me on the right path. I can now state with confidence that Cynthia’s parents were Aaron Day and his wife, Martha.
As we all know, one answered question often leads to several more inquiries. So now: who is Martha? While I was hopeful that maybe one day DNA would provide clues to that answer, I put the question on the shelf and didn’t pursue it further. I figured it would be a puzzle to be solved some time in the future. However, the future came considerably faster than anticipated! Thanks to an email from another cousin connection on FamilyTreeDNA, I was given a few hints.
First, some background info. What was known about Martha was minimal:
- Her headstone read, “Martha, wife of Aaron Day, died Feb. 16, 1844, AE 66.” Short and sweet. However, from this, we know Martha was born about 1778.i
- Aaron and Martha’s first three children (Nathaniel, John and Sarah) were born in Starks, Somerset County, Maine, where Aaron, was also enumerated on the 1810 census.ii It seemed likely that Martha lived and married in that region.
I searched through a dozen rolls of microfilm, starting with Starks and working outward, hoping to find the marriage record of Aaron and Martha. My search was in vain, but I became very, very familiar with families that lived in the locations around them, and one name in particular stuck with me: BUMPS/BUMPAS.
So it was with considerable interest that I learned of a FamilyTreeDNA match who had a BUMPS in her family tree. Even more interesting, her ancestor, Mary (Tibbetts) Bumps named a son, AARON DAY Bumps. Bingo. Continue reading
If you’re like me, sometimes it’s hard to find the balance in conversations with our relatives. While my intent is to have a casual conversation designed inspire and pique their interest in our shared history, I fear they equate me with a religious zealot trying to proselytize them. (I’m hoping my hairstylist doesn’t also feel this way; he said he was going to go home after my last appointment and sign up for Ancestry.com. I hope he was sincere and not trying to get me to shut up!) But I digress.
Sharing our interest can be tricky, but it doesn’t have to be. About two years ago I began working on the story of my ancestors, specifically Lavina Bursley and her husband, Albert Stanwood. I wanted to know who they were, not just where they lived and what they named their children. I wanted to share this information with my relatives, hoping to inspire them and not turn them off. I was a little uncertain how to tackle the sharing part of the project, until visiting Lynn Palermo’s Armchair Genealogist blog, where she has several posts about using photo books to share family history stories.
Photo books are great. The old saying that “a picture is worth a thousand words” is so true. Pictures draw the reader in. They get them interested. They don’t feel “preachy.” They make the viewer feel part of something bigger, part of a legacy. Pictures are powerful.
For Christmas, I decided to make three photo books to give as gifts to my sister and my two aunts. Each book contained two parts: a customized section with photos of the recipient’s own family and family tree, and a second, core section that was the same in each book, containing the story of Albert and Lavina (Bursley) Stanwood. The books were designed to: Continue reading
I had other plans for today, but as I began organizing my office, I became distracted with this photo:
Since finding this picture, I’ve been captivated by it. I’ve cropped it down, but the full portion of the back is shown below:
She writes: Continue reading
As Elizabeth Shown Mills states, often we will never find the “smoking gun” – that single document which states the parentage of an individual. This is certainly the case with Cynthia (Day) Bursley, who was born in rural Maine in the early nineteenth century, in a place and time in which few records were kept. In fact, the first known record directly naming Cynthia was the 1850 Federal Census, in which she was enumerated in Bangor, Maine at the age of 37 with her husband, Benjamin Bursley.1 Despite this obstacle, however, using evidence-based reasoning, along with the genealogical proof standard, one can deduce Cynthia’s parentage with a high degree of confidence.
Cynthia (Day) Bursley
Cynthia Bursley died 13 May, 1874, in Santiago, Sherburne County, Minnesota, at the age of 60 years and 3 months.2 (We can thus extrapolate her birth as approximately February 1814.) The certificate of her death states she was born in Maine to parents simply listed as “________ Day.” This document also indicates her parents were natives of Maine as well.
Nearly twenty years later, in 1892, Cynthia’s daughter, Lavina (Bursley) Stanwood, began the process to probate Cynthia’s estate.3 These documents confirm that Benjamin Bursley, with whom Cynthia was enumerated on the 1850 and 1860 U.S. Federal Censuses, was in fact, her husband. Continue reading
I love old pictures, and love to solve the mysteries associated with them. Who are the subjects? When was the photo taken? It doesn’t even have to be my own relatives in the picture – the challenge is just is fun. However, the reward of solving the mystery is greater when it is my own family, and it makes the individuals I’m researching come alive.
The photo above is quite a mystery. The picture recently came to me by way of my aunt, who had priceless treasures that she entrusted to my care. Here is what is known:
- Cormany photo studio, where the photo was taken, operated in Duluth, Minnesota from 1887 to 1888.
- The studio apparently moved locations in 1889, and continued 307 West Superior in Duluth through 1890.
- In 1894, the studio was situated in Minneapolis
- In the 1880s and 1890s, Cormany Studio had photographers in Princeton, Minnesota.
- The studio continued as late as 1914, when Gilbert Maggert published in the Princeton Union his rental of the studio’s premises and equipment “in all its locations”