Oh the weather outside is frightful but the maps are so delightful

Only 10 days to go until departure for Ireland. Having started packing and sorting a while ago, the clothing and electronics decisions have been made and everything will fit into the two suitcases. The golf clubs will stay here. A few things still need to be done to prepare the condo for my tenant and there are still a few social events on the calendar.

Christmas was a wonderful diversion and Maureen and I went to Pakenham to celebrate with Janet, Bruce and family. It was a great time during which we exchanged gifts, enjoyed wonderful food, and learned that we would not be good in case of fire.

It was a lazy sort of afternoon but the "all is calm" almost became "all is bright" when Maureen managed to set fire to a paper serviette when she inexplicably put it on top of a burning candle. She quietly picked it up, in flames, and said to me "I set the serviette on fire". Well I was instantly on my feet - who knew I could move that fast? I grabbed it from her lest she drop it on her clothes or the carpet and made a dash for the kitchen sink about 15 feet away. I didn't get that far.

Don't run with a flaming paper napkin. The extra breeze turned it into a little inferno, dropping bits of flames and ashes as I moved. The flames were licking at my hand when the whole thing disintegrated into burning ashes which drifted to the floor. They quickly burned out in mid-air having run out of fuel as the paper had burned up. 

Behind me I hadn't seen Olivia jump up, grab a glass of red wine, and dump the alcohol on a large burning piece that had fallen in my wake. She chose the closest liquid to douse the flames. Thankfully it worked - or at least didn't cause a bigger problem.

The whole thing happened in less than 10 seconds. Very fortunately the burning paper and falling ashes didn't mark the floor, the wine did not re-ignite anything and was easily mopped up, and nobody got burned. We were truly a case of  "what not to do with fire". It was a pretty close call.

So - now that we're all OK, what was the right thing to do? Nothing else caught fire and it is now just a funny story. It was a shame to waste the wine but that was the only damage incurred.

Christian Horizons sent someone to pick Maureen up around 8 pm as I was planning to stay overnight. Around 10:30 I decided to head back into town as the forecast for Monday was ice and freezing rain. Aside from the really nasty driving conditions it would have either coated the windshield with ice to be cleared or formed on the windshield as I drove. Not having drunk very much it was safe to drive. The roads were clear and bare and I made it home in good time.

Yesterday was Boxing Day and by the time I was up and about the freezing rain had started. It was nasty pretty much all day. I mentally patted myself on the back at having decided to drive home. So - I holed up (in my little log cabin on the 9th floor) and decided to do a little more digging into the past.

My main goal on the Ireland winter sojourn is to find the common Byrne ancestor we share with the Byrnes in Wicklow and Wexford. Secondary goals are all the same - find the McGrath, Brennan, Fennell, Whelan, Fitzpatrick and Loughnane families in their respective counties.

I have a good bit of information on the Fennell-Whelan whereabouts. I know where they lived and how to get there. Parish records online are helpful but difficult to read in the online images. I'll be in search of a genealogy society or a historical society near Athy to see what else I can find. They came from Tankardstown, specifically from the townlands of Barrowhouse and Monebrock.

I know whence the Loughnanes came in Tipperary but nothing has been uncovered in record searches so far. Maybe a little trip to Thurles can help. Bridget Loughnane married Jean Baptiste Hebert in Quebec in the early 1830s and she died a couple of years later in her early 20s. No trace of relatives can be found in Canada - but her marriage record gives her parents names and townland in Co Tipperary. It's a start.

The Brennans were from Clough/Castlecomer area of Kilkenny. Despite Brennan being the most common surname in that region, I do have some information on them. Catherine Brennan married Michael McGrath in Bytown (Ottawa) in 1854. From the marriage register I know his parents' names, but where were they from? Michael's obituary says he was also from Kilkenny - somewhere. 

Then we have the invisible Fitzpatricks. Patrick Fitzpatrick apparently emigrated around the time of the famine. He went first to Ottawa and then to Brockville. He managed to avoid being documented in either place in the 1851 census. Did he come alone? Who knows? Of course he died two years before the census in which he would have been asked the year of arrival in Canada. Of course he married during the gap in the church records, so of course his parents names are lost in the mists of time. Of course his obituary shed no helpful light on his past. Of course!

I'm beginning to wonder if my ancestors spent a great deal of effort to remain anonymous or if they were just lucky to fly below the radar all the time. Their surnames were common as were their given names. I do know the counties they emigrated from, well some of them. Perhaps the Walshes and Macdonalds were gypsies and came from everywhere.

Recently I purchased a Genealogical Atlas of Ireland. It breaks the counties into civil parishes, baronies, poor law unions and Roman Catholic parishes. In some cases, also into Presbyterian parishes. I'd hoped against hope that townlands were included - of course not. It would be so much easier if the parishes had been subdivided again into townlands. Nope! It's like a scavenger hunt to find each little bit of information except without clues to the things to look for.

Ancestry.com was not too helpful in coughing up records of baptisms or marriages in Ireland even with some idea where to look. It did however, lead me to the National Library of Ireland site for parish registers. With the help of the new Atlas I went through every Catholic parish in Cavan seeking Fitzpatricks. Hopeful at first, but the search was in vain. There are no baptism records for any parish in Cavan either early enough to include Patrick Fitzpatrick or there was a gap in the records for the decade around his given year of birth. Of course!

Today I have a few things to do but there are bits of time. I shall see what I can find on sources to track the Loughnanes. The Atlas may help and John Grenham's Tracing your Irish Ancestors will once again be combed for helpful sources.

Maybe I can produce a helpful list of likely sources at the NLI and National Archives in Dublin to speed the searching when I get there. The Family History Centre in Dublin is another potential destination.

Time to put the coffee on and get the day started. 

You just never know what you'll find when looking for something else

Well it's been a strange few minutes. I found a resource I didn't know was available and in that resource I found a record that was hiding under an assumed name.

The past couple of weeks have been hectic and the next couple promise to be just as busy, but today's plans to go to Library and Archives Canada to research the City Directories of Ottawa were shelved because of the snowstorm. It's not of epic proportions but bad enough to make the roads hazardous and I only have all-season tires, not snow tires. So - what does a frustrated genealogist do?

I had received a notice from the public library that there is a book on hold for me. I won't pick that up today either. I wanted to go online to the library site and make sure that any remaining holds were deferred until April after my return. There won't be a lot of time to read in the next 3 weeks. The main site was down but there were active links to some of the resources.

Holy smokes - there is access to Ancestry Library from home. I have my own subscription but thought I would check it out anyway. I'm not sure why I chose to look for a birth record of my uncle Francis Gilbert Sunderland, because I had it already, but as soon as I clicked the Search button, not only did his birth registration come up, that of my great aunt Serena Sunderland (Aunt Irene) pop up under the name Serena Raickstack. The reason for such a result, given the search parameters, is that her mother's name was Frances Sunderland.

I had long ago found a marriage for Frances Sunderland to Harry Raistrick in September of 1889, a week after her arrival in Canada with her brood of 5 young children. She was also pregnant at the time. So? Well Harry Raistrick lived in Bradford England and never came to Canada. The marriage was a sham, to give a father to Serena I suppose. Frances had been widowed in October of 1888 when James Sunderland died of pneumonia. Now there really was no reason for this fake marriage as she had recently arrived and nobody need ever have known her "situation". She could have claimed James' death to have been more recent.

Frances never used the surname Raistrick except, even though misspelled, on this registration which took place in October of 1890. The marriage was very real as a ceremony did take place and the marriage was registered. What wasn't real was the groom. Witnesses to the marriage were Abraham Taylor and Mona Pownall, Frances' sister. I can only speculate that perhaps Mona's husband George acted the part of the groom, Harry Raistrick. I can't find any evidence that this man ever set foot on Canadian soil. Abraham Taylor was Frances Sunderland's next door neighbour in the 1891 census, taken the year following Serena's birth. Frances was using her first married name, not Raistrick, nor was Serena ever known to use any surname but Sunderland prior to her marriage.

He was a very real person who lived in Bradford, England whence Frances had come. They must have been acquainted because she knew the rather unusual names of his parents which were recorded on the marriage cert. Perhaps they were very very well acquainted but we shall never know for sure.

I have often wondered how Frances got the money to travel to Canada. I wonder if the butcher, Harry Raistrick, might have helped out. This is pure conjecture on my part but it would make sense. If indeed he was the father of Serena, sending Frances and her children to Canada could preserve their secret. Harry already had a wife and children. To the best of my knowledge the Raistricks continued to live happily in Bradford, England. At least there are a number of records to say they were there for decades after 1890.

In later years Serena (Irene) acquired an attested birth certificate, signed by her sister Annie, possibly to get a passport. This certificate said that her father was James Sunderland and Annie said that she was present at the birth. When Serena was born Annie was 11 and most likely always did what she was told. She might never have questioned her sister's parentage or else kept her mother's secret.

The serendipity continues. I wonder what my next surprise will be!

Serendipity all over the place

Well it's about time I caught up. Seems that time is slipping by so fast and there's still so much to do.

The side trip to Sheffield is arranged - flight and accommodations arranged. I will notify the archives when I'll be arriving and what documents I want to look at so I can get down to business quickly. I'll be staying at a B&B about a 20 min walk from the Archives so will get in a little exercise. I'll have the  Sunday to look around the city itself.

I've continued to work on Aggie's Dash and the more I write and edit the more research I seem to do. Not sure when I'll decide that I've finished.  I wish Don would reconsider giving me some stories to include. It is a tribute to Nanny and I would like as much input as possible. Alas that's not going to happen.

Two friends are reading the story for me and suggesting changes in wording which is very helpful. It's a case of finally deciding I've collected all the information and stories and starting the formatting and inclusion of photos and their layout. There is no chance now that I'll have it done as a Christmas present.

In the past couple of weeks the importance of two particular homes in Aggie's life have taken on greater meaning. The first is 146 Lebreton St which it turns out was built by her grandfather, not her father, in the 1890s. The other is 279 Bayswater which was bought (built?) by her husband Harry in the 1920s. It has taken a while but it seems that the best option is to use the microfilm at the Ottawa Land Registry Office which should have the history of the two homes. I hope to go on Monday afternoon to see what I can find out.

To the same end, I went to the Ottawa City Archives this afternoon in a search for information about the expropriation of 146 Lebreton. What I did find is that since it was expropriated by the Ottawa Separate School Board, it would not be found in the minutes of City Council. The province doesn't seem to keep the information and previous inquiries to the school board went nowhere.

However, as I was re-shelving the minute book I happened to notice the headline on a bunch of old newspaper articles that another researcher was examining. It said "Old Time Stuff" and is from the Saturday Citizen of the 1920s. I remember finding one article in that series that was written by E.P McGrath, my great grandfather. I have an image of the article that I clipped from a digital archive that no longer exists. However, the archives have three boxes of those articles. Now I just have to wait for the other lady to finish with them and I'll be notified. I am excited about what I might find in those old columns.

This evening I decided to contact a DNA match from ancestry.com - a distant match but I noticed that she is from a very small town in NY State, Brooktondale. Bing!! I have another cousin who lives there. He is descended from both a brother and sister of my great great grandfather Edward Burns. I doubt that he is a common connection. Anyway I sent off a message hoping for a reply. Immediately afterwards I was browsing a Kehoe/Keogh message board on ancestry and found one from the same person I match on DNA. Could we be related through the Kehoes? So, I answered her post there too. Now I just sit and wait.

Christmas is almost on us and I have some cooking to do this week for next weekend's celebrations with Tom, Susan and family. Keeping in mind preferences and allergies I hope to come up with something a bit different for dessert. The veggies are a no-brainer. It will be a lot of fun.

Well I'll sign off now and hope to get back before I go winging off to Eire.

I get by with a little help from my friends

I have great friends - loyal, loving, constant and smart. Two very brave ladies offered to read my Aggie's Dash story and provide corrections and feedback. Thank you Laurie and Pat. You are wonderful for doing this.

The idea behind writing about Agnes McGrath Sunderland, my grandmother, was to preserve her story for the family. My goal was to include genealogy-worthy data in a flowing narrative. Once this story is complete the plan is to choose another ancestor and keep the process going. With the help of these ladies I feel like I'm getting there.

Once I've settled in Bunclody in January I hope to join a local writers' group for motivation and feedback. I'll be looking for a group that meets in a pub. So far they seem to prefer the library but I'm sure there's a suitable pub instead.

The process of writing must be unique to each writer - or at least that's how I feel at the moment. I don't have an established routine or process, having not considered myself to be a writer up to now. Yes I wrote instruction manuals and plenty of letters, but not a non-fiction work about someone I knew and loved.

I feel like I'm getting to know my grandmother better too. She lived with us until her passing in 1969 and I saw her every single day I was at home. But each of us had a unique relationship with her and some of the stories I've received from siblings and cousins have broadened my picture of Nanny. I'll try to do her justice.

A couple of seminars offered at the Ottawa library in branches from one end of town to the other, have also helped. Listening to Denise Chong the writer talk about how she goes about her research and writing, a presentation on making a photo book, and a drop-in genealogy session have all added to my knowledge.

Every time I think I've finished the story something else comes to mind. The photos I've assembled for inclusion have provoked more remembrances that turned into more paragraphs of the narrative. At some point I will just have to say "enough" and I'm done.

For now I'll try to catch some sleep so that maybe tomorrow I will reach that point. If not, maybe the tomorrow after that.

The sun came up this morning

Well I was rather shell-shocked with the US election results yesterday. I will try to recover quickly and hope that maybe he can at the very least, put on the back burner the most horrible of his plans and somehow entirely forget about a couple.

I have just the faintest glimmer of hope that he will manage to leave a bit of Obama's legacy intact. He won't be able to tarnish the grace, integrity and leading by example of the outgoing President. That is unlikely to be matched. Is it even possible for Trump to consider Obama's lifestyle as an example of how to behave?

I'm cleaning the apartment, including washing the windows and vacuuming in corners, to make my world bright and clean. It feels a bit sullied by all the election coverage that has flowed out of my TV for the last many months. Although a bit of a train wreck I couldn't look away as I was at the same time completely unable to do anything about it.

The narrative I've been writing of my grandmother's life is now in the hands of a friend. I'm making no attempt to produce a volume of interest to a general audience. This is for and about the family. The next phase is to collect and arrange and edit as needed, the photographs I have available as illustrations. Subsequently I will use some sort of online publishing tools to make it available for any who wish a copy.

My flight to and from Ireland is booked. Embarkation on the adventure will be 5 January and my return is scheduled for 13 April. I will be home for Easter yet not in time to be the main provider of dinner. Yay! Actually, now that Janet has such a wonderful large home in an idyllic setting she's ended up the default host. Yay again. There are so many benefits from having a condo apartment rather than a house. For one thing - no garden to put to bed, nor leaves to rake.

Tom and Susan are supposed to come to Ottawa - well Pakenham - the weekend of Dec 9 to celebrate the Burns Christmas a bit early. It's unlikely that Mark will make it but Heather should be here. I have my fingers crossed that she is able to come a few days early to help me with the "photo project". By Christmas I'd like to have all of the relevant family pictures organized, scanned, duplicated for safe-keeping, and originals given to whomever among us wants them. The very old irreplaceable ones will stay in the firesafe. Copies can be made for any who desire them. From what I've recently learned, the hard copies will outlast the digital images and I have to make sure that all are properly preserved.

So - back to my cleaning now. It does feel good to get this done - even though I've only finished the living and dining rooms so far. Where is that mop?

Pulled in multiple directions

You can have too much of a good thing. Sometimes it's hard to tell which is the better thing, or the best thing.

Recently I started paying more attention to presentations and workshops presented at a number of branches of the Ottawa Public Library. When I reviewed what is being offered it seems that they are all aimed at me. So many offerings so little time. I did a little picking and choosing.

The first one I attended was about tracing the history of a house in Ottawa. Hey - I need to do that. There are two houses in fact. One is the home of my great grandparents which was expropriated in 1969 and has been demolished. The property is now a parking lot. The other is the home that my grandfather built and in which my family lived until I was almost 12 years old.

I'm writing my maternal grandmother's life story - or rather, I'm trying to do justice to a wonderful strong woman who was not sufficiently appreciated while she was alive. Everyone deserves to be remembered and just because you were not a public figure or a member of the aristocracy doesn't mean that this doesn't apply in your case. I really do want Agnes McGrath Sunderland, my Nanny, to be remembered.

I had started writing about her and was struggling to put together a smooth readable narrative from the facts and anecdotes I had assembled. It wasn't working. I might just as well have printed out the "lifestory" option from our family tree on Ancestry.com and tossed in a few photos.

Lo and behold the Library came to my rescue again. Denise Chong, the Ottawa author of The Concubine's Children, was giving a presentation to aspiring writers at a branch not too far from my home, although not at the branch I regularly use. Denise is a non-fiction writer who tells the true stories of her characters in a very readable way. I can't hope to come close to her wonderful style. She researches exhaustively, assembles all the details from documents and interviews and then begins to write.

I had assembled the skeleton of Aggie's life. I have birth, marriage and death records. I have copies of the censuses in which she was enumerated. I had personal recollections and stories from her other grandchildren but since she had passed away in 1969, I couldn't conduct an interview. Neither could I interview my mother who lived with Nanny almost her whole life. She has also died. There is one living niece with whom I speak from time to time on long distance phone calls. She did offer some help as she spent quite a bit of time with Aggie who was her closest aunt. Somehow all that information was not easily translated into flowing prose.

With inspiration from Denise's talk and a copy of her latest book "Lives of the Family", I was finally able to start writing the story. I began by describing Aggie at a particular place and point in time. She was almost 9 years old. From that beginning it was a little easier. Now I'm absorbed in the process.

There are so many resources which I can use to put context around Aggie's life. I still have not decided where I will draw the line and tell myself "that's enough". I have still to conduct the research on the stories of each house. City directories have provided information that was a surprise to me. Just how much of the history of those homes will be included? I still don't know.

Stories of Aggie's parents and grandfather keep creeping in, as do stories of Aggie's son and daughter and sister and ...

How will I incorporate the stark facts of her life? Well, there will be an annex to the book which will include the family tree and the various religious and secular milestones in her life. Pictures will be grouped and inserted in sections to break up the text, they will not be sprinkled in with the text. I'm not an editor or graphic designer yet I would like the presentation to be attractive.

Tomorrow the library is beckoning again. This time it will be to learn a bit about how to take better vacation photos. I'll take lots of notes.

For now, it's time to start making supper. I will try not to write this evening but spend some time selecting the pictures to use and scanning those I don't yet have in digital format. Two weeks ago, at the library of course, I learned about preserving family photos. I will have to spend a good deal of time getting pictures in order. Digital format is not the best way to preserve a special picture. Printed pictures, well cared for, will outlast digital every time.

I did go for a short walk today and have decided to try downloading audio-books to my phone so that I can "read" while I walk. The story will come into my ears and not through my eyes glued to a page. I hope it works.

I'm trying not to be overwhelmed with the prospect of all the writing that lies ahead. So many ancestors, so many lives to recount, so little time ...

Just the facts - that part is easy

I have compiled facts and anecdotes and photos of Mary Agnes McGrath, my maternal grandmother. The family tree of her ancestors has been completed to the extent that they are known at this point in time. A list of world-changing events that occurred during her lifetime has been compiled. Chronological details of her life have been recorded. But when I put them all together I'm not happy with the result. Here's where my lack of writing experience is really showing.

I want to present something that looks good, has a narrative that flows well and engages the reader, and gives the reader a real sense of who Agnes McGrath was. Notwithstanding all of that, her life story is really aimed just at family.

Aggie was the perfect embodiment of a classical grandmother. She had the white hair fastened into a bun, she always wore dresses, she showed appreciation for the smallest favours and most childish of gifts, she was an accomplished cook and baker, she was totally devoted to her two children and her seven grandchildren. I took her for granted and in my more selfish moments, resented having yet another voice saying "no". This book is my effort to atone for the lack of appreciation I showed Nanny during her lifetime.

Initially the plan was to create an illustrated book - the kind you hold in your hands. Then I thought about an e-book. That, however, doesn't seem right as a tribute to a person who passed away long before the advent of electronic copies of anything. There will probably always be an electronic version to allow for new stories, photos or details if they are uncovered. But, I'm back to the printed and illustrated book concept.

So, I'm at the point of formatting "Aggie's Dash". That is the title.

Let me back up just a little. Once I decided that I would write family stories, I thought there should be a unifying theme. I decided on The Dash.

Read the poem that inspired this title here:
http://www.linda-ellis.com/the-dash-the-dash-poem-by-linda-ellis-.html

So, I started writing about Arthur Byrne, my three times great grandfather - and that's still in progress. The problem there is I'm pretty much stuck with facts and documents, there are no anecdotes and no pictures. Then I started a combined Bob Burns and Rita Sunderland (my parents) story. That's still in progress. The problem there is that I knew them both, have lots of photos and stories, and can't figure out what to include. It could be a huge tome, but I want to make it reader-friendly.

I figured it would be better to start with someone I knew and to whose story I could add more than facts and documents. The person I chose was Nanny - Mary Agnes McGrath.

So - over the next few days I will be arranging and re-arranging sentences and whole paragraphs. Photos will be selected and grouped and placed close to the narrative which they illustrate. I will have to resist the printing of each version. My pile of scrap paper - i.e. printed on one side with stuff I don't need to keep - is already threatening to take over my desk and does not need to be augmented.

The weather is cool and wet and I figure it's good to get used to this as my winter in Ireland is quite likely to have lots of days similar to what is forecast here. It should also give me some guidance on what clothes to take with me.

That's it for now. I have to continue to find diversions from the American election which is far too much like watching a train wreck - just can't look away even though I don't live in the US.

How do I get all the stories?

Everyone has a story. Now that I've started writing down recollections about my grandmother, Agnes McGrath Sunderland, and have made only a tiny start in the stories of my parents, I wish I could get everyone in the family to write about themselves.

It may not seem important to each person, but when I think of all the questions that I never asked my parents, aunts, uncles and grandmothers I wish I could record the stories of everyone in the family. If you are a part of the extended clan it would be wonderful to hear your story.

How do you start? Well, familysearch.org has 52 questions you can use to get started. Here is the link https://familysearch.org/blog/en/52-questions-52-weeks/. Please try to write out answers to those questions. If you can, use those as a guide to write the stories of your parents and other relatives.

Even if you don't feel you can write answers to all the questions, maybe you have a recollection or brief anecdote. I would love to hear it and read it and incorporate it into the family saga. What's more important, those that come after us will have a much better understanding of us if we can put something on paper which they can read maybe 50 years from now, or even 100 years from now. I wish I had such written memories of my forebears. Sadly I don't know of anyone who has passed away, who left a written record.

Well, that's not exactly true. I do have a diary that my mother kept from 1939 to 1943. Her entries were short. It was a 5 year diary with only a few lines of space for each day. Each date had a small space for each of 5 years. She was very faithful in recording how she spent her time. It's a window into her life.

Tomorrow I hope to get to the Irish embassy in downtown Ottawa to see if I could possibly get an extension on the 90 day limit on visits. I want to spend about 110 days in Ireland next winter and spring. Stay tuned.

Sometimes a phone call is all it takes

Just a few days ago, Hurricane Matthew laid waste to the Florida coast. Very heavily affected was Daytona Beach and the coastline north of there. Not so far up the coast live three cousins who had all decided to hunker down in their own solidly built apartment buildings, to ride out the storm. Hurricane shutters were indeed an important part of their safe, if harrowing, passage.

This morning I felt the need to check in with Jane to see how she, Mary and Alice had fared. That's when I learned that they had not evacuated. They're all fine and happy that electricity has been, mostly, restored.

As always happens when I chat with Jane, the conversation wandered and eventually came up the the story of the death of her grandmother, Bridget Murphy Byrne. My reporting of stories about Bridget's death was based on what I had heard from the family in Ireland. As it happens, they seem to have gotten it all wrong. For any distress I caused Jane, Mary and Alice, I'm so very sorry.

Recently I had found among the Irish civil records, the register of Bridget's death. The cause was listed as "childbirth 7  hours, extreme exhaustion". I had heard a story - speculation that must have been altered over a century of re-telling - that Bridget was so despondent over losing her newborn twin girls, that she fell down the stairs, possibly on purpose or possibly from simple exhaustion. The fall had reportedly caused her demise. But not so fast ...

Today I heard a completely different story from Jane - reported in her family so most likely the real account. It was not known that Bridget had been expecting twins. She had laboured long to deliver the first baby girl who was either stillborn or died almost immediately after birth. Bridget was exhausted and those in attendance had gone downstairs to let her rest. Some time later someone went to check on Bridget. Sadly they found Bridget had passed away and between her legs was another dead baby girl. The agony that this must have caused for her husband Luke and two very young sons, Ned and Art, is impossible to imagine.

Luke was unable to cope on his own and took his young sons to live for a while with his own uncle Luke and his wife Kate Doyle Byrne, at Coolross. Ned, the younger child who was about four, was left there. Art, only a year older than Ned, clung to his father's leg and thus managed to convince his father to let him stay with his Daddy. It is not known where they lived until the 1911 census. It must have been during this interval that young Art spent time at Coolross.

In the 1911 census, Ned was still living at Coolross with his aunt whom he disliked intensely. His uncle Luke had passed away. Reports abound that Ned was very unhappy with the treatment he received from Kate, and lives on in stories of a naughty child. He would set out for school but not get there only to be found hiding later in the day, he carved his name in a rock and it can still be seen at Coolross, and he generally let it be known how unhappy he was.

At the time of the census in 1911 young Arthur was listed as a scholar and boarding with Patrick and Mary Keogh in Knockloe, Rath, County Wicklow.

In that same census, Luke was a visitor at the home of George Byrne and his wife Maria, in Tinahely. He was identified as a Baker and was of the right age and born, apparently, in County Wicklow. In fact, Luke had been born in Dublin in 1865.

So far I have not found a connection between the George Byrne whom Luke was visiting, and the family at Coolross. There was a George at Coolross, brother of Luke who had the family farm, but he was blind and was unmarried.

I suppose this gives rise to more research to figure out where, if anyplace, George Byrne of Tinahely, fits in the family story. It could be no more than coincidental family names because Byrne is about the most common surname in County Wicklow.

Well the beautiful sunshine, if not the chilly temperature, is beckoning. It's time for a walk and some very fresh air.

Golf nearly done so more time for pruning the family tree perhaps

It's already September 29th. Our golf league finished last night so my official duties are pretty much done for this year. The only remaining task is to convert my Mac files to PC format so that everyone else can read them. Maybe Saturday???

Well, maybe not Saturday. The morning offers a meeting on the subject of DNA for Genealogy and as I've had two different DNA tests, both of which prove my substantial Irish heritage. There are also test results for my brother and an Irish cousin, so I'll be attending that presentation. The information from the tests is not exactly enlightening. There seems to be a field of relatives of varying degrees out there. The close ones in the Irish line I had pretty much known from regular research. The French ones I'm not particularly working on for now. However, some very interesting possibilities lurk in those chromosomes.

It seems that Tom and I who are of course a VERY close match being siblings, don't quite match Jim Byrne. Tom does match him VERY closely on the Y-DNA (male) test of the Byrne line. All that means is that our common ancestor is 6 or more generations back. This is not a revelation - we already have five generations worth of data. Interestingly enough, the commonalities increase the farther back we go. Fingers crossed that we're getting close.

Another interesting finding is the "matches in common" with a number of people most of whom are in Ireland. I've been in touch with one lady and am very much looking forward to getting together this winter to try to fit more of the puzzle pieces together. We have some surnames in common but from what I understand at this moment, they are all in-law connections and not blood relatives. Yet, the DNA matches seem to say otherwise.

The mysterious connections remain my greatest pull away from housework and things that need doing at the moment. Pulling from another side is a huge stack of library books. I found a couple of list of books worth reading and using the library website, placed holds. Naturally they all came available at the same time - now! Here I sit torn between two great alternatives. I do need to find something that pulls me to move around rather than sit still. Ah well - another day.

Genealogist's dream day

Well it started like a regular Monday - but only for the first few minutes. It was finally happening, I had a short time to take a peek at the Irish vital records now online. The first record check was a Bingo! I had found and verified the date and place of death of Luke Byrne, the baker of Coolkenno. He died of pneumonia, in the infirmary in Gorey, Co Wexford, on 17 February, 1917. His occupation was listed as Baker. That's our guy!

Then there was the question of the date of death of his wife, Bridget Murphy Byrne. There had been rumours in the family that she had been despondent over the death of stillborn twin daughters and had thrown herself down the stairs. Hmm - does this record really show that it didn't happen that way?

Now we know that she died in Coolkenno on 9 Nov 1902. The cause of death was listed as "childbirth 7 hours, extreme weakness". Does this rule out Bridget getting out of bed and falling downstairs either accidentally or on purpose?

The mystery still remains, why was that young family in Mohill, Co. Leitrim at the time of birth of their son Edward in 1899 and also recorded in the 1901 census of Ireland. How did they get there? When and why did they return to Coolkenno? That will continue to be difficult to track down.

I had offered to give a little tour of Ottawa to Kyle Betit who had made several presentations at the BIFHSGO conference over the weekend. The records were put aside and the car was put in motion. We had our tour and both being genealogists, and more or less in the neighbourhood, we paid a visit to Notre Dame Cemetery in Ottawa. This is the largest and oldest mainly Catholic cemetery in the area, and the location of the burials of my McGrath ancestors.

I didn't know where their plot was and driving around wasn't helpful. A visit to the cemetery office, after some persuading, resulted in our getting the plot number from the person on duty. There was a card with the list of those buried in that plot and later I was able to get a photocopy. That confirmed the burials of my great grandparents, their three sons and one daughter. The question remained - what about Michael McGrath and Catherine Brennan McGrath, my great great grandparents? When I was able to find the date of death of Michael, lo and behold I also got confirmation that Michael and Catherine were buried in that same plot. At this point I think Michael must have purchased the plot when Catherine died in 1881. That's an investigation for another day. Maybe I'll find a more helpful cemetery attendant.

Armed with a cemetery map and the approximate location of the plot, Kyle and I went to the area and began the search. Well, rather like the gap in church records that is always where your ancestors would have been recorded, there was a gap between tombstones where plot #916 should have been. Or rather there was only a bit of a stone where I would have expected the McGrath stone to be. There was also an almost invisible flat stone in the ground, but it was so covered with earth that I'd have to bring a trowel and spend considerable time scraping to see if it was "ours". Now I'll have to phone Pat in Victoria to see if she knows whether or not there was a stone where her father was buried.

Once we left Notre Dame I began to question why it was so difficult to pry the information out of the staff person on duty. Aren't they there to help? The information was available on a computer if you knew the exact date of death. Heaven forbid an ordinary citizen should get beyond the information window! In providing the date of death of two McGraths I was off by 3 days - and was informed that I had the wrong dates. Well, since the records are ordered by date of death it certainly didn't take long to find the right information just three days off. I had used the funeral date by mistake. Sigh...

Those records also contained information that I could not see on the screen due to where I was standing. Kyle caught a glimpse so we know there is more. So - is there any effort being made to digitize these records? Or even provide a printed book that could be consulted? At Beechwood Cemetery, just around the corner, they trip over themselves to help. AND, their records are online. A long ago visit to Beechwood had a staff member offer to take me to the exact location of my grandparents grave and provide a copy of the record, and a cemetery map.

So - here's my dilemma. There is no headstone. There should be a headstone, shouldn't there? Should I be doing something about that? Of course I don't have a spare few thousand dollars and have no idea of the cost. I suppose I'll let that thought keep me up tonight.

Looking back on the day it was a winner - some confirmations and some 'sort of' discoveries. I had the added bonus of spending several hours with a professional genealogist who works on Who Do You Think You Are. Lots of suggested sources I have yet to explore. Yes indeed, today was a winner!

Some days I'd like to have a clone

My two favourite pastimes - golf and genealogy - competed for my attention all week, and at no time have they been more in conflict than the past few days.

After years of waiting and hoping, the Irish vital records were released - hopefully unlocking some mysteries that have been driving me crazy. I wanted nothing more than some uninterrupted time and maybe a cup of coffee, to peruse them online. They are still waiting for me and one day this week I shall turn off the phones and settle in for a good long excavation of information.

Here it is Sunday evening after an exhilarating, if more than a little bit busy, weekend. I was pulled in two directions. The conflict between playing golf and continuing the family history quest was never more at issue. I needed to be two places at once. In the end, I split the time as best I could and overall I think I made the right time allocations.

Over many hours during the past week, working with my co-organizer, both at home and at the golf club, we got everything ready for the multiple-match play format for our Williams Cup event. This is where a team of ladies from the morning league takes on a team of ladies from the afternoon. We kept the same three match play formats but instead of players being assigned only one format over 18 holes, everyone played three formats, for 6 holes each. Tricky but generally enjoyed by the players.

For the first 5 years of this event the morning ladies have won and only last year did the afternoon ladies wrest the trophy from their grasp. Today the afternoon ladies won by a large margin. To a non-golfer an explanation of the hows and whys would be boring. Suffice it to say that with wide-ranging handicaps it is very hard to find a format where one team does not hold a huge advantage.

It was so much fun today - I was not playing - just setting up, following the matches and doing the scoring, that I never made it to the conference for the very compelling talks that I'd been looking forward to. The promise of tasty snacks afterwards was another reason. They didn't disappoint but I digress. My fingers are crossed that the presentations were successfully recorded and available on the BIFHSGO website where I can "attend" them at my leisure.

The weekend actually started on Thursday evening with a reception at the home of the new Irish ambassador to Canada where we had a special presentation by Maurice Gleason that set the stage perfectly for the conference. The coffee and scones in that beautiful setting topped off the evening.

Friday night the conference had started wonderfully with the Whiteside Lecture about the events in Ireland around 1916 to 1922.  I spoke with a few friends of my plans to spend the coming Winter in Ireland, researching and writing.  I really want to be in a town with some shops and a library that I could walk to and not have to drive everywhere. My first choice was Bunclody, Co Wexford, still in the heart of Byrne country, and minutes from family. But I'd had no luck finding anything. A chance conversation with Shirley Monkhouse led her to recommend Moss Cottage. So - I checked it out online, sent an inquiry to the owners and Saturday morning's email brought their reply. Moss Cottage would be mine for the winter at a good price, and it has even more space and amenities than I had dreamed of. The day could not have started better.

The talks were terrific and as usual at these events, stirred up the old motivation to keep learning and digging and writing. It is wonderful to re-charge the battery and jump start all those projects I'd been trying to get around to. Saturday evening was nicely wrapped up with a fine dinner at Summerhays Grill with fellow participants, and topped off with the Northern Lights presentation on Parliament Hill. We even managed to get back to the car just as the rain, thunder and lightning were starting their own light show.

Today the plan was to get the Williams Cup event underway at Hylands and send the lady golfers out on their quest to win points for the team then head to the conference. Once that was done it was just so much fun catching up with the team, watching some great shots, recording all of the scores that I couldn't get away for the final conference presentations. The decision wasn't easy but I couldn't pass up the camaraderie at Hylands.

So as I sit here typing I can reflect on a wonderful week that unfolded as it should. Tomorrow I'm looking forward to showing off some Ottawa highlights to an out-of-town speaker from the conference, and then settling down with the Irish vital records at last.

The coming week certainly has the calendar quite filled up but there are spaces for some alone time with the computer. Perhaps I should let it rest now and cool off so I'll call it a day.

Progress suspended due to excess golf activity

Well here it is Labour Day weekend. Someone seems to have flipped the weather switch along with the turn of the calendar to September. It's not nearly so hot and the nights are quite chilly. This is my perfect weather and I hope it lasts.

My duties on the ladies golf executive at Hylands have taken over much of my free time. I'm enjoying it a lot but not getting any genealogy time at all. Next weekend is the conference for my family history association. I had signed up for the two days - Saturday and Sunday - but now my duties will keep me busy on Sunday at the Williams Cup competition at Hylands.

On Thursday evening I, along with many conference attendees, will go to a reception at the Irish embassy. This was a huge success at the conference I missed in 2013 so I'm really looking forward to it. I suspect that I'll need to haul a dress out of the back of the closet.

On Friday I will pick up one of the featured speakers at the airport, which is just minutes from my place, and take him to his hotel. The following Monday we will reverse that route. I'll miss his talk on Sunday so perhaps can persuade him to fill me in a little on the way to the airport.

One reason I'd like to hear it is that it deals with little known sources for Irish research and my plans for the winter in Ireland are making slow progress. If he can point me in some new directions I'll be all ears.

The weather is perfect this weekend and I have a game scheduled for Monday morning. Deep down I just know that I'll be off to the course either today or tomorrow as well.

In a short time I'm off to the post office to mail my passport application, including my current almost-expired passport. It's supposed to take less than 2 weeks so we'll see. In the meantime I can't make any last minute trips to Ogdensburg, NY as my ID will be in the hands of the Feds.

I'm also posting a little package of my favourite children's books to Mairead (Byrne) Parsons at the Rocktavern, Co. Wexford. Her third child is expected in a few weeks. Michael is now in first grade and Tom is off to play school. I think that will give Mairead upwards of three weeks of quiet days until the bump becomes the baby.

Having said very little, it's time to get on with the day and accomplish something. A walk to the post office will start me off and I'll just let the day unfold.

Sunday August 14, 2016

I didn't realize it had been so long since my last post. Well here I am - wandering again. This post is coming from near Edmundston, New Brunswick. I've lost an hour but from the look of this hotel room I've actually gone back several decades. I made the booking on Trivago for the Rose Motel. The name alone should have given me a good clue and in fact it did. However, for some reason everything is very expensive here so I took the cheapest option. And, you get what you pay for. Even if you pay too much.

I had a bedspread similar to these in the early 70s. I think these have been around that long too. Good thing I prefer a shower to a bath - the tub is so short I could never unbend my knees if I managed to get in at all. Ah well, it seems quite clean and there is wifi. I was first offered a room "at the back overlooking the river". Well, being alone I prefer a "room at the front". When I asked about wifi and found out that the original room didn't have it, I said that was not acceptable. Hence, this room. It's only one night and I anticipate surviving.

This journey to the Halifax area to visit with high school friends began somewhat later than I had planned but there's really no rush to the trip. At 9:30 I departed my place and arrived here about 6 pm which instantly became 7 pm as I'm now in the Atlantic time zone.

The drive from Ottawa to Montreal was uneventful. Following carefully the instructions to get to Route 30 and avoid going through Montreal, I just sailed along, stopping only to pay the toll. It's well worth the $2.50 to NOT visit the city. Anyway I was so enjoying the road that I missed the exit for Highway 20, but I'm ahead of myself.

My pursuit in genealogy is pretty much restricted to my Irish ancestors. The French line is well known and I found it already completed, rather than having to figure it all out myself. Verification of records has proven that the original research was excellent. I did sort through it for a few generations and discovered an Irish woman who had married a French Canadian man. Bridget Loughnane married Jean Baptiste Hebert at Ste Martine, Quebec which is quite close to Montreal. Well, to my surprise the first exit off Route 30 was to Ste Martine. I didn't take it but at least I know where to go if I decide to explore that area. Bridget married, had a son, and died a year later at a very young age. My memory did not store the particulars but we're talking about 1834 ish. My best guess is that she died in childbirth with a second child, but there's nothing to support my theory other than it was very common.

Anyway I sailed by Ste Martine and the next exit was for St Constant - another place notable in my French line. A few more familiar places followed. What is a bit annoying about all this is I lived in that general area for 7 years, 1974 - 1981, long before I started to do genealogy. If only I had known at the time. Of course I've made a mental note that a two hour drive could net me a lot of tombstone photos but the trip remains unplanned.

So, merrily I went down the highway listening to music and enjoying the limited traffic and great speed at which one could progress. Oops - just roared past the exit to Highway 20 towards Quebec City which was a milestone on the journey. I figured (wrongly) that another opportunity to exit would come along. Hah! So, I asked the GPS for assistance and she directed me to St Marc sur Richelieu where I enjoyed the drive through farmland and past Les Trois Tilleuls, a restaurant that I'd once visited about 35 years ago. Eventually I got to Beloeil and a ramp to the 20. I was once again on track.

At this point I set the GPS to my ultimate destination which is outside of Halifax, Nova Scotia. All was well as I noted the route she/it? had planned. There was an exit just at Quebec City, or more precisely Levis, as I was on the south shore. Naturally I turned as directed, completely forgetting that the correct route took me via Riviere-du-Loup a couple more hours ahead. Just as I took the prescribed exit the GPS screen momentarily went black but then came back on. Hint number 1 that all was not well.

Still, I decided to keep driving along the route waiting for the GPS to respond. Suddenly there was a message on screen that it could not calculate the route. What??? I continued to follow route 73 for a bit when I realized it was taking me to Maine. Nice state, but not the route I wanted. Sigh!

So I found the map of Quebec and verified that indeed I needed to go as far as Riviere-du-loup before heading south into New Brunswick. I tried to reset the GPS which now said that it was 8590 KMs to my destination. What??? It's really about 500 kms. I turned the GPS off and on. Same thing. Plus it said it could not calculate the route. It had the right address but still said I had 8500+ kms to go. This was nuts.

I re-set the thing for Riviere-du-Loup and continued on my way - still on Route 20. Eventually the signs indicated that I was properly on track for New Brunswick so I was happy. I stopped for a break and once again entered my ultimate destination. This time the dumb machine gave up its obstinate position that it was thousands of kms away and got it right. Ta-da.

By about 6 pm I really was tired of being in the car so I took the exit for the motel I had booked just before leaving home this morning. I had not been able to program that into the GPS - stupid dumb piece of technology. I stopped for gas and the attendant (yes an attendant who actually pumped the gas for me) gave me directions. They were wrong. I think this place is in a time warp. I'm not quite in Edmundston, I'm in St Jacques which is just outside the city. I paid for the gas and followed the directions which took me to the Ritz Motel. As it happens it was really only marginally nicer than the Rose Motel. Deciding to follow the main street of St Jacques a little farther in the way I had first taken, I eventually found the Rose, and here I am.

The motel owner gave me directions to Station 127 - although she said Station 126 - which is a restaurant a few kms away. It was very nice and I enjoyed my grilled salmon and a glass of wine. Now, I'm settled in my modest accommodations and just catching up with my online life before settling in with my book and then hopefully an early and sound sleep. Tomorrow I think I'll drive a bit before stopping somewhere for breakfast.

This time tomorrow I expect to be relaxing with Sharon and Bob Power at their cottage outside of Halifax. Not sure when the next episode from the Wandering Genealogist will materialize.

For now, Good Night.

Friday July 8, 2016

It's overcast and I hope it rains. This will of course spoil my golf game but I'll sacrifice for the sake of some moisture for the soil.

Of course I have been immersing myself in the depths of newspapers.com and I must say I'm getting my money's worth. I think there must be better ways to search and as usual, not everything that is in the articles can actually be found in a search. Sometimes there are teasers and I can't get to the depth that I want. For example, there was a brief article that my great-grandfather, who was an alderman in Ottawa at that time, was bereaved. His older brother John who had moved to California, had died in an accident. No further information was available at that moment. Well, I don't know if further information was ever published but I certainly can't find it.

There are many newspapers in the database but I can't find one for Riverside, CA. I'm sure that the local newspaper would have covered an accidental death. John McGrath was a prominent builder whose arts and crafts style homes still look as good as the day he built them. I'm considering an appeal to the Southern California Genealogy Society to see if anyone there has access to a Riverside newspaper for the appropriate time period.

Now that it seems likely that there will be a visit next summer from our California connection, I think that I'll have to make a greater effort to find more McGraths in the Ottawa area. Party time! I will of course have my scanner on hand in hopes that people bring along family pictures - labelled!

Some days I'm torn between doing something useful - like housework - and digging deeper into the family roots. There are lots of resources that put context around the lives of our ancestors and it's interesting to think about what life was like for them. I sure wish they'd had cameras and a penchant for using them. With the paucity of photos my guess is that friends took pictures and gave copies to my rellies. I suppose that a huge bounty of pictures would just mean more work dealing with them. Imagine what future generations are going to think with all the digital images we have now.

Well, on with the day. I have to accomplish something!

Thursday July 7, 2016

Eureka!

I had signed up for a two week free trial of newspapers.com and forgot to cancel. So, I'm stuck with the subscription. Well it has turned out to be a little goldmine of information. A couple of mysteries already solved.

I guess that "back in the day" pretty much everything made the news. The cities were small and everyone seems to have known everyone else. I'd been spending a little time on the McGrath line as I've been trying to write my grandmother's story. Her name was Agnes McGrath and she kept that until she married. Then she became "Mrs Harry Sunderland". I'm so glad we've moved beyond having your identity depend on your spouse.

Even when she was young she led a pretty anonymous life. Her father was a city alderman for many years and he made the news a lot - mostly for pretty mundane things. The big story was the drowning of Aggie's two brothers, Frank and Allen along with Gordie Belot, the fiance of her sister Elena. Aggie was interviewed by the newspaper as she was the one who had found their boat floating upside down. Their parents were in Montreal at the time and came home by train when they got the news. That must have been a very difficult journey.

The Ottawa Journal of the time gave it extensive coverage and it seems to have been the beginning of a series of family losses. This was the greatest blow and severely affected the health of both parents. They died within four years of this loss. Aggie also lost her husband within a year of losing both parents.

But I digress. Some of the McGraths emigrated to Riverside California. They were a mysterious lot to me but Aggie kept up a correspondence with her cousin Kate who was the oldest of the children who set out for California with her parents. Kate's father John was a master carpenter. He apparently made his fortune building crates for the citrus industry. Later he was known as a master carpenter who built a number of beautiful homes in the arts and crafts style. The family home was built in 1911 and is still in perfect condition. It is a lovely home by any definition.

John was the oldest of 11 children and one of his brothers followed him. I had found the baptism of Michael but then he seemed to disappear. It seems that he followed John to California following a bout of typhoid. I guess I'll have to see what I can find about typhoid in Ottawa in the late 19th century. He had not really recovered when he traveled cross-border and cross-country. My guess is that he went by train, but who knows?

Anyway, in the Ottawa Journal of January 24th 1893, was a short article saying that Michael had died 21 months after arriving in California. His occupation was given as 'stair builder'. I suppose that fit very well with his brother's work. Michael was only 34 years old. Of course all this happened between censuses and little other information has come to light.

When I was in California visiting descendants of John McGrath, we went to Evergreen cemetery in Riverside. We found the graves of John and his wife Johanna and nearby was one for Michael. I had thought it was possibly John's brother but had no documentation. Now we know.

What is still a mystery is that the name of a little girl named Annie is also on Michael's stone. Michael was not married and had never had children. John had no child named Annie. This is another path to go down some day.

Another article appeared in the Ottawa Journal when John passed away in Riverside.  Apparently his death was as a result of an accident. Something else to investigate. So far I have not found any newspapers from Riverside but one day the answer will turn up. Perhaps there was a later article in the Ottawa paper. This one had shown up as related to Alderman E.P. McGrath. I guess it's good to be prominent. Details as I find them.

It's brutally hot these days so I will likely stay indoors and keep digging for information. More to follow.

Wednesday, June 29 2016

It has been an interesting few days in genealogy-land. I'm preparing for my long visit to Ireland next winter and working on a research plan to get the most out of visits to the National Library of Ireland and the Archives, Manuscript library and other sites.

To decide what to include on the list of goals I allowed myself some diversions from the direct family lines for a while. Sometimes you have to go sideways to go forward. I know that many of the families who lived near Arthur and Eliza Byrne in Throoptown, Ontario had the same names as families who surrounded the Byrnes in Coolross, before they emigrated. How did they all choose the same area to settle? Were some families here first? Were some here from the time of the building of the Rideau Canal?

I might not find the answers to those questions - I'm easily distracted and diverted. You'd only have to take a look at my pile of papers and files to know that I've sometimes, well maybe often, gone off madly in all directions.

For a while - well a couple of hours - I was looking in the Gehan/Gahan connection. One of Arthur's children, Arthur Jr, married Eliza Gahan. After raising their family in Canada, and having the senior Arthur and Eliza living with them, they sold their land and moved to Ogdensburg, NY. It's just across the St Lawrence River which divides Ontario Canada from New York State. The borders were very porous back in the late 19th century. There was work to be had working on the Great Lake steamers and other working boats and Arthur Jr answered the siren call, as did many of his siblings and extended family.

I made NO progress at all other than to find a few records supporting what I already knew of the Gahans. So, I moved on to the Thorpes. Two Byrne sisters married two Thorpe brothers. One couple remained in Ontario and the other moved to Monroe County, New York. Their family had come from Croneyhorn townland, Hot Pot Lane to be specific (yes, that's really the name). Gabriel Thorpe, father of these boys, had married Nancy (Ann) Byrne in the Tomacork Parish, County Wicklow. So far no indication of a connection with our Byrne family.

I pored over records of the Thorpes and found a few more names and parts of more recent generations. That was on Saturday.

Sunday brought an unexpected email from a man on the Isle of Wight. He had found an old book that had been presented to a Catherine Thorpe as a prize for diving in 1908. It appears to have been affiliated with a school in Chelsea, England. Being curious he googled her name and came upon a link to the item I had written about our Byrne folks in Throoptown. Down the list of descendants were some Thorpes. My email address had been attached to the article so he wrote.

I had not thought about the Thorpes in months and the day after I start looking into them, this email pops into my inbox. As it turns out, I can't seem to find any connection to Thorpes in England, although it is an English name. Maybe our Thorpes descended from the English who pretty much took over Ireland so long ago. Maybe they just left England and settled in Ireland for their own reasons.

Well I decided to do some investigating as my previous days' record searching had led me to some Thorpes who remained in Canada - descendants of Henry Thorpe and Margaret Byrne. I began to wonder if there were any Thorpes still around that area.

I went online to Canada411.ca which is the best source of phone numbers for Canadians who have landlines. Lo and behold there was one Thorpe in Prescott and about half a dozen in Brockville. I called the one in Prescott but he was sick in hospital and his wife didn't really seem up to a great deal of conversation so I just wished him well.

The first name in Brockville was my next target. There I got a warm welcome and the next day, Tuesday by now, I drove to Brockville as previously planned, to do a little more searching - but not for Thorpes. I diverted to the home of the Thorpes I had spoken with but it doesn't seem like we are related after all. Their ancestor had arrived in Canada decades before ours, and he was Protestant. He did have an interesting life though. I left what I knew of my Thorpes with this family.

Now I have to gather the courage to call some of the other Thorpes. It's a bit hazardous and can upset people. Cold calls are usually from telemarketers and I'm anything but. Tomorrow I might venture into the phone realm again - but I'll prepare a better introduction.

The reason for my trip to Brockville was to search for information on the Fennells and Fitzpatricks. I have managed to locate the Fennell ancestors in the townlands of Barrowhouse and Monebrock in County Kildare. The Fitzpatricks were according to family information, from County Cavan. Patrick was my great great grandfather. His obituary stated that he had come from County Cavan, first to Bytown which is now Ottawa. Subsequently he arrived and settled in Brockville. I guess Annie Fennell caught his eye because they married in 1852 and became pillars of the farming and church community.

The record of their marriage is in the family bible, held by cousin Mike Whitten in Northern Ontario. It simply gives November 1852 as the date. No parents names are listed. Without the names of Patrick's parents, and no mention of a townland or even a parish, in Ireland there is little hope of finding the right folks. Maybe we are related to some Fitzpatricks who are still there, but unless some obscure source of information comes to light, I'll probably never find out.

There was no mention in the newspaper of that month and year. Land records don't have Patrick's name which means that in 1861 when the agricultural census included concession and lot numbers,  he was just renting. Without knowing the concession it would take an incredible length of time to pore through all of the land record books to see if he ever bought any land.

He did however, leave a will which was probated. A copy of that will is in the land office. To see it means another trip to Brockville. Who knows what I might learn there - perhaps the location of his land. Most wills don't mention parents of the adult deceased but maybe in a couple of weeks I'll have some time on my hands and desire to incur temporary vision issues by poring over that microfilm.

I think I'll leave the Thorpes and Gahans alone for the time being. I know where to go in Ireland to find the home place of the Fennells. That's one more ancestral family about whom there is probably more information to be found.

My brick walls in Ireland, beyond the Fitzpatricks, are now down to the McGraths of Kilkenny, the Loughnanes of Tipperary, the Walsh and Macdonald families of who knows where. Then there are the Mahers and the Kanes. And oh yes, the "other" McGraths. The Kehoes keep peeking out here and there but I have no idea if I'm being teased or there might be someone behind a glass of Guinness who knows something of the Kehoe heritage and is willing to chat.

For now I'll drift off with visions of evenings in a pub somewhere in rural Ireland when the ghosts of my ancestors all arrive with stories to tell.

Tuesday, June 13 2016

Well the past weekend was windy and wet and chilly so staring it off with a Genealogy meeting was perfect. Well, once I got inside after stepping my sandalled foot deep into "Lake Inferior" in the parking lot things were fine. Ugh. It was the AGM but the business portion proceeded quickly and efficiently and we're good to go for another year at BIFHSGO.

The Great Moments presented by four members were wonderful and good motivation to keep on seeking. To that end I spend considerable time online pursuing the Irish connection - notably the Byrnes. At times, like now, I think I could work on genealogy 24/7 and still be constantly busy. As it is, a hobby, it keeps me out of trouble.

In all good faith and based on location, right down to the townland of Coolross and the familiar names I started looking more into the family of Whelans who lived in a now-ruined small stone house in what is now a corn field. It is known as Nanny Whelan's place. I was sure this was a related branch but, not so fast ...

Nanny Whelan, whose real name was Annie, was blind yet she was the guardian and substitute parent for her younger siblings. From what I've heard she did a fine job of carrying out her responsibilities. Anyway her parents were Bridget Byrne and Owen Whelan. Head of the household according to the 1901 census was a Michael Byrne. His age and the location had led me to believe he was the son of Michael Byrne and Cath McGuire. On this basis I had assumed Bridget to have been his sister. Well, I was wrong.

Now that so many Catholic parish registers are indexed and online, I decided to look up the marriage of Bridget to Owen Whelan. To my surprise, Bridget's father was Moses Byrne of Coolross. Whoa! That changes everything. So I made the appropriate changes in the family tree, disconnecting them from "our" Michael but leaving the Whelan family intact. Moses' wife was Anne James. So - another question has arisen? Was Moses any relation to our Byrnes? Was it a coincidence of geography to be on the same townland? Byrne is the most common surname in Co Wicklow so this is quite likely to be a coincidence. Anne James is almost certainly the daughter of one of the James family who were tenant landlords in the area. Now I wonder if I should bark up that tree too?

Nanny Whelan apparently would often walk over to what is now Jim Byrne's place at Coolross. Oh to be able to chat with these folks for a few hours!

I found Bridget to have had a brother Michael and a sister Catherine. As far as I can tell, neither married. Catherine had an illegitimate daughter, Mary, who also lived with the Whelans. Having visited the ruins of their home I wonder whether they all slept on hooks on the wall. It certainly was not spacious when you think of so many residents.

So - will I find a blood connection to Nanny Whelan? or her father Moses Byrne? I'm guessing not, as the name Moses was never used in my family nor in Jim's. I suppose we can be grateful for that.

Wandering down other avenues on Sunday I had a lovely chat with Mary and Oliver Harte. They are looking forward to my visit next winter and Mary and I will probably have a few little adventures find the various homes that relatives once occupied. Mary told me of her lovely uncle Patrick, a carpenter, who lived at Three Wells in Aughrim.

A little aside here, a home once owned and probably built by Patrick Byrne, at Three Wells in Aughrim is currently owned by a family of O'Byrnes. In recent times the son, also a Patrick, was arrested and charged for shooting his father. Whoa again. Now I'm happy NOT to be related to that bunch.

Meanwhile, back on track. I also called Tom Byrne at the Rocktavern to see if he knew the name of the missing Byrne brother - son of Luke Byrne and Kate Doyle. The youngest of their sons was James, a seventh son. He was always known as 'the doctor'. I had the names of 5 of his brothers but was missing a name. Tom figures it had to have been Luke as the name was used, and is still used, in the family. What turned up in research was a second son named John - brother to Tom's father John. The two Johns were born a year apart in 1891 and 1892. At this moment I don't recall which was which. But was one of these actually a Luke? or was it an infant death and the second John 'reused' the name. This was not uncommon at the time as my grandmother Agnes McGrath was named for an older sister who had died in infancy a couple of years before her birth.

So - just when I think I'm solving a mystery another one begins. I wonder where my next investigations will take me.

Sunday June 5, 2016

Finally some rain. The area is almost in a drought and the farmers must have been getting worried. It looks quite socked in and hopefully will be an all-day soaking rain. This means there should be no excuses for the indoor activities that are screaming to be done. Well of course there's laundry and cleaning, but I'm thinking more along the lines of scanning photos and working on the story of Aggie.

The main focus of my time in Ireland next Winter will be the Byrne heritage, although I have several other Irish lines to pursue - Fennell, Fitzpatrick, Brennan, McGrath and Loughnane in particular. Then if I get bored I can move on to Walsh, Mcdonald, Maher, Kane/Keane/Cain ...

To this end I had written (emailed) to the Archives in Sheffield England which holds the largest collection of Fitzwilliam records and manuscripts. Their holdings include rental records for every year as far back as the mid 18th century. I'm hoping to find clues to when Arthur Byrne started renting there and possibly who his father was. In parallel, I'm looking into the ancestors and descendants of Michael Byrne whose descendants still live at Coolross. My working theory is the Arthur and Michael were brothers.

Well the query brought an answer. There is a wealth of documentation to be pored through. Thinking that paying a researcher might be less expensive and more productive than doing it myself, I asked for a quote. Yikes! Cost is 13.50 GBP per half hour. It can take half an hour just to browse through a manuscript to find one name, even knowing the name and location you are seeking. The report that is produced is merely a recounting of what was found. If you want a digital image of the page the cost is 15 GBP. Holy smokes!

If you go in person to search, and they are open Saturday, Monday and Tuesday only, there is no cost to do your own research and you can take digital images of what you find, also at no cost. Hmmm - I'm now re-thinking the possibility of finding a suitable flight on Ryanair from Dublin to Leeds-Bradford on a Friday and returning the following Tuesday night or Wednesday. The air fare is quite cheap if booked far enough in advance, bus fare from the airport to Sheffield is cheap and I'll seek reasonably priced accommodations. It will probably work out to be less expensive and will give me another peek at the area my maternal grandfather came from.

I still have not figured out when exactly to leave for Ireland but I think it will be soon after Christmas with a return in mid to late April. That should allow for a little break in Portugal for the Genealogy in the Sun conference in Albufeira at the end of March. I'll probably stick around for a bit afterwards and do a bit more sightseeing and enjoy the sun. It won't be hot but pleasantly mild will do nicely for looking around. If I'm feeling a bit richer maybe I'll go as far as Barcelona.

So, now that the day is fully underway it's about time I made myself some breakfast and enjoyed a cup of coffee. I'll ponder my options and must include some laundry and perhaps force myself to do some vacuuming while the clothes are getting clean. After that - the siren call of genealogy will be answered.

Had an interesting meeting last night

Wednesday, 25 May 2016

As I sit here today, preparing for a golf tournament this afternoon, I can't help but reflect on meeting Karen James last night. Karen is a descendant of Michael McGrath and Catherine Brennan - our mutual great great grandparents. Not much is known of Michael or Catherine, but the search goes on.

With research we have come to the conclusion that Michael and Catherine both came from the Clough, Castlecomer area of County Kilkenny. I have a copy of the record of the marriage of Catherine's parents John Brennan and Ellen/Eleanor Walsh from the parish church in the parish of Castlecomer. The date was 15 November, 1830. John was living in the townland of Crutt but Ellen's homeplace was not given. No parents names were given but the witnesses were Martin Phelan and Judith (Judy) Neil.

Baptisms of their children shed only a little light on the matter as it is obvious they were not baptized soon after birth. The oldest child was Margaret, and her baptism was recorded as 20 August 1838. Sponsors were John Walshe and Margaret Nolan. At the time the family was living in Clough and the mother's name was given as Eleanor Walshe.

Two years later we have Catherine baptised on 25 May 1840, with parents John Brennan and Elenor Walsh who were living in Coolalean. Sponsors were Edmond Comerford and Catherine Comerford.

The same year, a few months later on 10 September 1840, son James Brennan was baptised. Parents were listed as John Brennan and Elenor Walshe still living at Coolalean. Sponsors were Patrick Kavanagh and Catherine Murphy.

The youngest child was William, baptized 20 January 1842. Parents were listed as John Brennan and Ellen Walsh, living at Clough. Sponsors were Robert Nolan and Mary Walsh. The townland was given as Coolaline which I suppose was the same as Coolaleen.

I think, now that I've revisited this information which I got from Rothe House, Kilkenny, I'm going to look more into the sponsors. Catholic parish records are now indexed and online at ancestry.com so perhaps I'll turn up something helpful.

Catherine and Margaret Brennan stayed in Bytown, later Ottawa. Catherine married Michael McGrath in 1854 at the age of 17 - working backwards from her age at death. This means she would have been born in 1837. John Brennan died sometime before 1848 because in that year his widow Eleanor/Ellen, now known as Helen, remarried to a John Doyle. No sign has been found so far of the boys James or William. They were not living with Helen and John Doyle in the 1851 census taken in Ottawa. They would still have been quite a bit too young to be on their own. It is possible they worked as labourers or maybe apprentices to trade, but so far no luck finding them.

Anyway, I have digressed. Karen and I have basically the same information on the descendants of Michael and Catherine. Our records differ on the parents of Michael McGrath. Records are hard to come by. There is a family of McGraths in Ottawa at the same time who seem to be known to our family over the years, but the parents were married in County Wicklow. Another mystery for another day.

Sunday, May 22 2016
As I sit here with my very large mug of coffee I'm mentally preparing to meet tomorrow with a McGrath cousin. Tomorrow evening we're getting together for the first time. We've exchanged messages on Ancestry.com and know already that we have a great great grandfather in common - Michael McGrath. Both of us have been working on the family history and I'm excited to meet with Karen. DNA testing has confirmed our connection exactly.

Our trees coincide in most facts but there are some areas that I'm anxious to explore because we have different information. I'm certainly willing to change what I have with sufficient proof. Genealogy is a wonderful pastime, giving voice to those who came before. I just want to be sure I've claimed the right ancestors.

I've made a bit more progress in the stories of Aggie McGrath Sunderland, my under-appreciated grandmother. This is her family. I'm sure Karen has lots of information on her branch. She is descended from a sibling of Edward Patrick (Ned) McGrath, my great-grandfather. I think I'll dig up a few pictures to share and hope that maybe she'll do the same.

Now that the weather has finally become "seasonally appropriate" the golf course calls me more frequently. I'm about to answer the call again today so will sign off for now.

May 15th, 2016 and little progress has been made. I seem to have been distracted by life in general and golf in particular.

My current project is writing about my grandmother, Agnes Sunderland. I have asked for input from my siblings and cousins and pretty much anyone who knew her. We all have our memories and different perspectives - all positive.

Hearing from others and what they remember has jogged my own memory. Sometimes I think that the story will never end as things come to mind at unlikely moments. I had completely forgotten about the humbugs and peppermint patties. Nanny always had some of these in her room as treats. She particularly loved humbugs. Can you still buy these candies? I liked them but they were never my favourite.

Memories of her seem to revolve around food in some way. Every summer she would make pickles and chili sauce. I hated the smell as she stewed the sauce as it pervaded almost the entire house. Maybe it was her way of making me go outside to play. If the weather wasn't nice I'd go down to the basement to escape the smell. I still can't eat either one.

Today is April 29, 2016. I have just begun this blog with a view to tracking my own voyages in search of my family history. No matter where I go there is usually an element of looking back at my ancestors and how they experienced life, both where they came from and in their new homes when they emigrated. My deep family roots are in Ireland, England and France. DNA testing indicates that there are elements of Scandinavia (probably ancestors of the Irish and English) and Eastern Europe (was my ggg grandfather who settled in Bradford, England really a gypsy, or traveler as the story was passed down in England?). I started this journey in 2004 and it will never end. My fondest hope is that one of the younger members of the family may one day decide to pick up where I left off.

My base is in Ottawa, Ontario, Canada but I frequently make short and long trips in search of further information. Local trips include Prescott and Brockville along the Canadian side of the St Lawrence River, and Ogdensburg, Morristown and Massena on the American side.

Local libraries, archives and historical societies have proven invaluable sources of information. A lot of my searching is also done online with various free and paid databases. Social media has been helpful and has led to the discovery of cousins and helpful historians and genealogists along the way, to say nothing of hearing the success stories and family tales of fellow family historians.

From time to time I will post things out of order - when I want to focus on a particular adventure even if it happened some time ago.

I enjoy helping others to trace their roots. However, I won't be including those experiences in this blog.

The paddlers in this photo are my mother at the back, and her cousin Pat at the front of the canoe. This was on the Rideau River just off the point of Nicoll's Island in the 1930s. It just seemed like a fitting picture to start this blog. Their journey was a short one but you have to start somewhere.

I spent all my summers at this place until I was 12 years old. My mother and Pat had done likewise. The land where the tents, and later cottages, were erected was leased by my great grandfather E.P. McGrath in 1909. I still have the original lease on linen paper. The McGraths were well known and loved in this area, near Manotick, and in Ottawa where E.P. (Ned) McGrath was an alderman on Ottawa City Council.

On the land in the background, not part of the island, was a farm where foxes were raised for fur. You can see the pens. It was long gone by the time I was old enough to create memories, but the stories lingered. Apparently it was from this area that some of those who worked in the city and made their way south to this spot, would walk along a path down to the river and shout until someone heard them and came over with a boat or canoe to pick them up.