Many of us in the genealogical community wake up every morning and eagerly jump into the latest edition of Eastman’s Online Genealogy Newsletter (EOGN), the daily newsletter put together by the wonderful Dick Eastman. Dick is presently recovering from a perforated appendix and, on behalf of everyone in the community, I want to wish him a very speedy recovery. I’ve greatly enjoyed the group dinners put together by Dick on the closing night of RootsTech for the last two years and he’s a fantastic guy – very much the embodiment of his beloved (and prolific) web presence.
Starting to get SUPER excited for RootsTech 2013, which will be taking place from March 21st to 23rd in Salt Lake City. I attended for the first time last year and was absolutely overwhelmed to be in the presence of so many genealogical technologists. It sounds like this year will have even more attendees, exhibits and workshops.
Hoping to meet some of you there, my small-but-growing readership! And for those of you who can’t make it, I will definitely be blogging and “live-blogging” certain elements of the conference.
Hi everyone. A number of you have stumbled upon my site via GeneaBloggers – and we thank them tremendously for our inclusion.
Still very much working out the kinks and getting ready to “officially” launch in the next week or so, but for now, there are a few entries below. Please “like” us on Facebook, follow on Twitter, and keep checking back – many new things will be added soon. Thanks for your support and interest – looking forward to what’s next!
My great-grandfather, Michael Matthew O’Rourke, was a railroad man. Family lore always indicated that he worked for the Erie Lackawanna Railroad – commuting from his home in Paterson, New Jersey to Jersey City and other points along the way, but by the time I got around to asking my relatives for more details, not much was known or remembered about the actual specifics.
Over the years, I had frequently read articles in genealogical magazines about the Railroad Retirement Board, and how its records were a valuable resource for those looking to find out more about their railroad employee ancestors – but my search was always halted as my great-grandfather does not appear in the Social Security Death Index (railroad workers were issued SSNs starting with 700-728 and, to my knowledge, their information generally does not appear in the SSDI) and in order to obtain records from the RRB, one must have the deceased’s SSN.
As luck would have it, during Christmas, 2012, I was home in Cleveland and discovered a loose sheet of paper among some family photos. I’m still not positive as to what it may have been – maybe some kind of pay-stub (perhaps one of you in the blogosphere will have a better idea) but staring right at me was my great-grandfather’s Social Security Number.
When I arrived back in New York, armed with this new information, I visited the Railroad Retirement Board’s website and immediately wrote them a letter. Within only a few days I received a letter back, indicating that records do exist – but they’ve been transferred to the southern region of the National Archives, and that I should contact them for further information. The process was quite simple and efficient – I sent them an e-mail with the specific details, and they located the file (presumably on microfilm) and told me that there was 81 pages – and the charge for copies would be $64.80. I opted to pay over the phone with a credit card, and within a week a large package arrived containing just about everything in existence about Michael O’Rourke’s railroad career. I’ve spent some time reviewing the file now and it contained some interesting, though not (yet) revelatory, details. I learned that great-grandpa was a leverman – and a quick google search reveals this about that position:
Employees who operated an interlocking machine were designated as leverman. These employees were also subject to theBook of Rules and the hours of service law. At busy interlockings (such as at urban terminals), occasionally an additional leverman helper position would be created during busy periods.
Some other interesting tidbits popped up. For instance, my great-grandmother filled out a great deal of paperwork as the wife of a railroad employee, in order to receive her annuity, in addition to his. In her application, I found that she lists her father’s name as William Joseph Hancock. I had never seen the Joseph on previous documents. Maybe it’ll come in handy, some day – you never know! Additionally, it seems the Railroad Board required official vital record documents to prove age, marriage length, etc. – so the documents that were sent to me include copies of death certificates for both my great-grandmother and my great-grandfather, and also their marriage certificate and extracts from church-issued baptismal certificates (used to prove age, I would imagine.)
While this particular file doesn’t seem to have introduced much new information into my research, I’m grateful to have it. And – as all branches of my family are (comparatively) recent immigrants to the United States (the earliest any of my ancestors came here was 1854 – after that, it wouldn’t be until 1882, then 1907, with the most recent immigration occurring in 1950) it gives me a particular pride to know that records on my relatives are being stored in the National Archives. If a railroad employee exists in your lineage, I encourage you to see what might be out there – who knows what you may find!
It was April 4th, 2010. Easter Sunday. I felt something in my gut that morning and, against all odds, my life changed in the blink of an eye.
I’ve been fascinated with family history research since I was very young. My parents moved to Cleveland right before I was born and all of our extended family remained further east, in upstate NY and NJ. I grew fascinated by the notion of these other people who lived in mythical, far-off places with names like “Bergen County”. Genealogical research seemed to be a way to get to know them a bit.
As I grew up, my theatre career took me right back to the east coast and, when I moved to New York in 2002, my first apartment was in Sunnyside, Queens. After giving Brooklyn and Manhattan a try, the end of 2009 found me moving back to Sunnyside.
The beginning of 2010 was a rough stretch for me: a relationship had just ended, I was working very long hours, and I generally found myself in the middle of a major transition period. So Easter Sunday appeared out of nowhere and I relished in the rare opportunity to have a day without obligations, to just do whatever struck my fancy.
It turned out to be the first really nice weather day of the year – the sun was out and I just had to get out of my apartment, so I walked myself over to a neighborhood diner and ordered some breakfast. As I was sitting there, reflecting, my mind went to an unexpected place: I started thinking about the massive cemetery that I had passed a few times while walking around the neighborhood, but had never taken the time to explore. I remembered a website called Find A Grave. I had explored it a bit, but was curious to learn more – and to possibly contribute to its volunteer-driven database. It seemed like the perfect day for some exploring.
Find A Grave is a website that has existed since the mid-90s. The idea is, quite simply, to index and record information for all of the world’s cemeteries. It is a constantly-growing, user-driven compilation of information. Whereas gravesite information was previously only available by contacting the cemetery office (and, even that assumes you know in WHICH cemetery your ancestor is buried) with this website, members of the community-at-large can pool their resources and knowledge for the better good – creating a stronger, searchable resource for everyone.
With thousands of volunteers throughout the globe, Find A Grave contributors help each other with content requests. Let’s say you have an ancestor who is buried in California, but you live 3,000 miles away in New York. You can post the information relevant to that ancestor’s gravesite and a kind, local stranger will eventually dispatch themselves to photograph the headstone so that you may see it and have a record of any genealogical information it may contain. For instance, knowing that my mom’s father is buried in Mahwah, NJ at Maryrest Cemetery – I recently found that a volunteer (who has no relationship to our family) had actually already photographed his headstone. You might see if any of your relatives are on the site – with over 93 million records, the odds are increasingly good.
Anyway, I left the house to explore Calvary Cemetery – a gigantic cemetery for which there’s an entrance on 52nd Street and Queens Boulevard – in Woodside Queens. Armed with my camera, I proceeded to try and make sense out of the cemetery map that I had found online. The whole place seemed to be unending and gigantic, and – though I’m not usually overwhelmed by things like this – it was a bit overwhelming. As I entered the cemetery grounds I walked for at least an hour – taking photographs of random headstones here and there, and mostly just enjoying being around grass and trees within such a peaceful setting.
I brought two requests from the website with me – hoping that I would be able to fulfill some far-away genealogist’s photo requests and at least make a fleeting deposit into the karma bank for the day. The first gravesite took quite a hike, but once I got to the correct section of the cemetery, the grave was nowhere to be found. I looked all through the corresponding area, but still no dice. Perhaps it was written down wrong, or perhaps it’s a grave without a headstone. Either way, I was 0 for 1, and thought I might have better luck on the second task I had brought with me – so I proceeded to walk towards the other end of the cemetery, in search of Clementina and Gesuele Sica, a photograph of their headstone was being sought by a woman named Debbie. I saw that she had taken volunteer photographs for others on Find A Grave, and felt the least I could do would be to try and help her out.
I made my way over to Section 43, and excitedly located the grave for Clementina and Gesuele Sica. I took some photographs from different angles – careful to capture all the information – but also paying attention to things like the angle of the sun, shadows, etc. Feeling as if I accomplished something, and aware that I had now been in the cemetery for almost two hours, I decided to head back home – though, admittedly, I was guessing a bit as to the direction in which I should walk.
Having left no breadcrumbs for myself, I decided to trust my gut and see where it took me.
I walked for a half-minute away from the Sica grave, and was still taking in many of the other headstones. Throughout the day, I would see familiar surnames and wonder if they were ancestors of my friends, or people with whom I went to college – and I pondered that, in fact, the likelihood was imminent that many of the graves I was passing were, in some way, connected to me. I found myself wondering if any of my relatives – distant or otherwise – might have made their way here, as a final resting place. But no amount of peaceful pondering could have prepared me for what happened next.
For a moment, my heart stopped altogether.
I was staring at my great-grandfather’s grave.
Of my eight great grandparents, he’s the only one for whom I was never able to find a cemetery location. But there I was – shaking and awestruck – face to face with the headstone of my great-grandfather. Without his courage, our family would not be residing on this continent, let alone even be in existence. He led a hard life, with the hope that mine wouldn’t be as hard. And here he was, where he’d been for the last 60 years: 9 blocks from my apartment.
I had a feeling that morning that going to the cemetery and photographing headstones was how I was supposed to spend my day. But this photo doesn’t do the place justice. It is massive. There are over three MILLION people buried in the four areas of the cemetery. I happened to go in search of a grave that was in the same ROW as my great-grandfather – the only ancestor I have who was even remotely likely to be buried here. But, even though I realized that Calvary was a main destination for Italian and Irish Catholic immigrants to New York City, given overcrowded Manhattan’s lack of cemetery space, it never once crossed my mind that he could be buried there – and yet, there he was. There he is. Less than a minute’s walk from the headstone that I volunteered to photograph for a stranger from the internet.
Antonino Cassara first came to the United States from his hometown of Mistretta, Sicilia, in 1907. By the beginning of the 1920′s, he was living in the coal-mining town of Mildred, Pennsylvania – with his wife Petrina (nee Lupica) and their ever-growing family – including their sons Joseph, Michael, John, and my grandfather, Salvatore Joseph – but everyone called him Sam.
I knew Papa Sam well. He was a constant figure in my childhood. A couple of years before he died, I spent the summer with him and my grandmother in Rochester, NY. At my prolonged nagging, we finally took a trip to the cemetery where his mother was buried. Grandpa told me he hadn’t been there since she was buried – it had been almost 40 years. It’s the only time I ever remember him crying. He said “thank you for bringing me here”, we paid our respects, and we left. To this day, it’s one of the most vivid memories involving my family that I have. That was the day that my budding fascination with genealogy became less about names and places and facts and more about trying to understand the lives of those who have come before us. It became an intensely personal thing, and no longer a faceless attempt at gathering data.
It’s almost been three years since that fateful day – and my passion for genealogical research is stronger now than it’s ever been. Since that first visit, I’ve spent countless hours in Calvary Cemetery and – while nothing has ever topped that remarkable experience – I’ve taken volunteer photographs for hundreds of researchers throughout the world. I’ve become a major contributor to the BillionGraves project and as of this moment have helped to add over 30,000 records to their ever-expanding collection.
If I ever had any doubt, I learned to listen to my gut. I learned that serendipity exists. And I learned that, by honoring our past, we can shape our future.
I started this blog today. I’ve been wanting to start it for many months and, in some ways, many years. But today I started it and I’m facing a somewhat-daunting blank screen, wondering what may lie ahead. While I have a very active social media and web presence for my work in the entertainment industry (I’m a casting director for theatre and film and own my own company in Manhattan), my genealogical work has generally been as a long-time researcher and observer. While I read many websites and journals, I’m not usually an active participant – but I have felt that tide changing in recent months and figured it was time to put pen to paper, as it were.
“Family means no one gets left behind or forgotten.” – David Ogden Stiers
In 2012, I attended two conferences: RootsTech, the “Family History & Technology Conference” in Salt Lake City, and The Genealogy Event, in its inaugural year, right here in New York City. At both gatherings I became aware that there’s never been a more exciting time to be interested in genealogy and technology. With billions of records available for free, and billions more being digitized, indexed and accessed every day throughout the world, I’m excited by the times in which we live – and I want to contribute more actively to all related pursuits.
I’ve been inspired by reading a number of excellent blogs along the way. Some personal favorites have to do with NYC research, including
the excellent You Are Where You Came From blog, which really gave me a new way of looking at how blogging can serve a genealogist’s needs, while also serving his or her community.
The Bowery Boys (not related to genealogy, per se, but an amazing New York City history podcast series)
The Newtown Pentacle, where Mitch Waxman provides amazingly detailed analysis of my area of Western Queens, with frequent posts on Calvary Cemetery and Newtown Creek.
Other favorite sites tend to focus on genealogy and technology, such as
The Ancestry Insider - terrific “insider” analysis of the latest genealogical technology industry news.
the Family Search Blog, providing regular updates on the incredible work being done by Family Search
and, of course, Dick Eastman’s invaluable Eastman’s Online Genealogy Newsletter. I look forward to it every morning, and have been subscribed to the “Plus Edition” for many years, for the best in genealogical news.
All of these have contributed immensely to my decision to enter the blogosphere myself, but leave me wondering what particular niche I’m aiming to fill, by tossing my own hat in the ring.
They say “write what you know”, and I suppose that’s what I’m going to set out to do. I want my research to reach not only my relatives, but others who might have advice or suggestions. And who knows, perhaps getting these names and faces and stories out into the world might lead to some new discoveries. But, beyond my own research, I find no greater joy than the joy of helping others on their own research journeys and intend for this space to provide me the opportunity to chronicle some of those exciting instances of “philanthropic genealogy”, if you will – and perhaps create some new ones.