Good Stories

You know what I like best about doing this sort of research? It's the family lore that wanders down through the generations. For example:

1) Annie Anderson had 6 children with Knud Hagen and then died, presumably from exhaustion. Knud, realizing that he couldn't do this by himself, sent a letter back to family in Norway, asking them to send him a new wife. They dutifully looked around and found a 16 year old girl by the name of Klara to fill the role, and then packed her off on a ship to America. When she got to Minnesota, Knud bundled the family up and homesteaded to South Dakota, where he and Klara proceeded to have another 6 children.

2) George Valley decided to make something of himself, but couldn't afford the train ticket from Ogdensburg, New York to New York City. So, he rode his bicycle across the state to get there. While there, he studied with Nikola Tesla before opening up an electrical shop of his own.

3) Robert Fitzgerald boarded a ship in Ireland to come to America with his wife. Once they entered the Boston port, apparently the port officials looked at the family, told them there were already "too many Irish" in Boston, and sent them on their way to Canada. While in Canada, he and his wife had 2 boys, who eventually immigrated from Canada to the greater Chicago area, where apparently they had a few more openings for the Irish.

4) Thomas Valley, Sr. had a disease in his early teens that put him in a coma for nearly two years. After waking from the coma, his mind was, in the words of my uncle "completely wiped". He had to be totally re-educated. Even after this tragedy, he grew up to be a very successful businessman, heading a national distribution business at the time of his death.

5) Alfred Valley lived in Montreal, but idolized the New York Yankees. Once, when visiting his son who was living with relatives in New York, he tried out for the team, having played some minor league ball himself. The problem was that he was in his 40s at the time. The managers humored him, and let him hit a few balls and run the bases. He wasn't accepted on the team, of course, and this angered him greatly, causing him to vow never to return to the United States. Ironically, the first ball game I ever took my boys to see was the Yankees vs. the Blue Jays. The Yankees won, of course.

6) Torrence Carlson and Ruth Aanestad met for the first time 2 weeks before they were to be married. Almost immediately after the marriage, Torry shipped off for the war. They corresponded throughout the war, and Ruth came to visit him while he was on base in Texas. Torry luckily never saw any real action, having the Japanese surrender just as his ship was approaching its first real fight off the Philippines. Ruth, coincidentally, is said to have fallen in love with Torry while accompanying him in a production of South Pacific.


I've certainly got more stories, and I keep hearing more and more from the other family branches as I continue with this research. If you've got some interesting stories to tell, drop a line in the comment area of this post.

Making Contacts: Dale Carlson Family

I talked with Mickey Carlson the other day, and we had a nice long discussion. I've been trying to get hold of Scott, Mark or Todd for some time now, but I can never seem to catch them at home. I don't have even a little contact information for David, and from what I hear, Dale has his good and bad days on the phone, so I haven't really tried to call him, yet. My mother recounts recent phone calls with him, where he says, loudly: "I CAN'T HEAR YOU." I love Dale...that's classic.

Mickey let me know that her children are, in fact, not married and she isn't yet a grandmother. For some reason, I had that linked on my site straight out of my grandfather's research. I know he's not infallible, but this sort of error seems a bit egregious. I made sure to correct the site. From her information, Chad's in New York, living the single life, and Amber is soon to be married (for real, this time).

Hopefully, Scott and his brothers can find their way here, and maybe someone can sit Dale down in front of a computer and show him around. There are some fascinating pictures of Dale on the site. *grin*

The Enigma of Timothy Cummins

As you may or may not have read in Frances Davis Cummins' recounting of her husband's earliest Cummins ancestor, Timothy Cummins, no one knows from where he originated himself. Here's a quick time line of what we know about Timothy:

1689(?): Born in Scotland(?).
1727, Sep 26: Marries Agnes Horton.
1731, Aug 4: Buys lot of land from Thomas Wells in Dover, Delaware
1731, Sep 3: Daughter Hannah born
1737, Jul 28: Son Daniel born (future Senator from Delaware that would ratify the US Constitution)
1742, Apr 12: Bonds himself with land to a Michael Cummings, his wife and son. No one knows who this Michael Cummings is, or from where he came either.
1746, Apr 12: Timothy dies.

Sure, there were any number of other land purchases in between that time, and his the original inn that he built on his first land purchase apparently still stands (in some fashion) in Dover, but prior to 1727, we have absolutely no hard evidence on Timothy.

There are a number of issues that bar us from finding anything more:

1. J. Thomas Scharf, the author of "History of Delaware", a multi-volume publication that hit the shelves in 1888, does not attribute his information about Timothy Cummins to any source. I'd imagine that his most authoritative information on Timothy was family history, and we all know that's easily embellished. I tend to think that Scharf embellished a bit himself, as there should have been any number of other pieces of evidence to support his claims.

2. No inbound ship to Oxford, Maryland (an important port, at the time, and the place that Scharf claims Cummins entered) lists a Timothy Cummins on their lists of passengers. That isn't authoritative evidence that he didn't enter that port, mind you, as he certainly could have been on the crew of one of those ships, or simply come in prior to the time when passenger lists started to become a requirement for the new government of the land.

However, a William Cummins landed in Oxford as a passenger of a ship transporting Jacobite prisoners from Scotland in 1716. In the book "Oxford, the first 3 centuries" by Dickson Preston, a librarian in Oxford related to another researcher: "… 106 rebels. Some were sold to Talbot planters and the rest were sent over to Annapolis for sale there." So, if Timothy had come from Scotland on the boat in 1716, spent 7-8 years as an indentured servant (during which time indentured servants were not allowed to marry), and then spent his time after serving to find himself a wife, it would fit nicely into the time line.

However, the William Cummins aboard the Johnson that came over in 1716 also has no records that I can find, so he may just as well have been a coincidence.

3. Frances Davis Cummins suggests in her book that there's no authoritative evidence across the pond that Timothy came from there during the period that Scharf documented. I don't know what this research entailed, but none of my searches on the publicly available indexes for the UK turn up anything on a Timothy Cummins (Cummings, Comyns, etc) either for that time period.

4. A singularly large migration of Cummins/Cummings lived in Virginia at the time that Timothy popped onto the genealogical scenery. They predate our line by nearly 100 years. If Timothy, rather than coming over himself, had originated from that family, this might explain the complete lack of immigration information on him, and might also provide us with a solid connection to the Michael Cummings to whom he generously gifted land 4 years before his death. As with all research for this person, that idea came up with another fat zero.


So, what are we left to assume? Edith Cummins, my great-grandmother, swore up and down that she was half Scottish and half German. She disdained all other races, and, being from a general Presbyterian and Lutheran family background, had a high disdain for the Catholics (I'm saying that nicely). Certainly, folks will occasionally get themselves to believe something is true by saying it's true all of their life, but that doesn't lend it any more credence than an anecdote. We could probably settle the ancestry with a DNA test, but there's no telling where the Scottish may have crept in from other lines of the family, as we're all a good deal mutt just about now.

As more and more records come online, perhaps earlier evidence of Timothy will become available. Until that time, he's left to us as an enigma: Was he escaping the clutches of a Cromwell-fueled anti-Catholic London, was he the 4th or 5th generation of Scottish tobacco farmers in Virginia, or was he simply yet another of the endless stream of colonists to the new world, shedding his earlier life for an identity that encompassed everything about the early American dream?

1906 Never Looked So Good

When I upload this photo, it's naturally going in the Who Is This? album, as the only things labeled on this photo are "1906 -- South Dakota". I figure one or more of the Aanestads might be able to help me out on this one. So far, this is the oldest original photo I've found.

Pretty neat, eh?

Just a reminder to you folks that might know the look and feel of more family members than I: The Who is This? folder has the capacity for commentary. If you know the folks that are pictured, make sure to drop a line in the comments area so that I can properly file them away.

How To Be Remembered

People think that heroic deeds are the only thing that gets you recorded by history. I'm here to tell you that I've found evidence that allows for a whole range of activities that will keep you on the books for some time yet. But in order for people in the future to know the real you, and not the guy who lived 3 blocks away from you with a deceptively similar name, then you're going to have to make sure to follow some simple rules for living:

1. When you decide to live in a new country, no matter what your culture's traditions are, do not name yourself after a geologic formation. Not only are you making genealogical research impossible to distinguish you from the 4 other people with your name that had similar birthdays and potentially slept with your wife after you died (yea, I'm looking at you, Joseph), but you make it nigh impossible for your descendants to Google themselves without getting multiple hits on Drayton/St. Thomas/Valley 9 man Region 3 Varsity Football (Go Blue Knights!).

2. If your father's name was Ole, I can't help you. You know that Newhart show, where the characters used to introduce themselves as "This is my brother Darrell, and this is my other brother Darrell"? Well, the Norwegians weren't too far off. I've lost count of the amount of times I've had to keep track of the generations of Ole Olsons. And you can stop that snickering in the back, you Swedes, as you're just as guilty.

3. Speaking of the Scandinavians, I'm sure you're all chortling in your collective mugs of beer over the years and years of folks coming in from the old country and arbitrarily determining what they'd tell people their last names were. I had one researcher with which I was working simply detail every possible name for a Norwegian that was on his list. This included father's name, farm name, region name, name where they got baptized, their 3rd cousin on their mother's side (but only if he was born under a full moon), and so forth. I figure it was some sort of joke passed down through the generations, where Ole and Sven were on the boat figuring out how they were going to mess with the various census takers and immigration officials through the upcoming years. Don't get me started on the variety of original spellings of Knute.

4. Want to become a family legend? Get adopted in Canada, move to America when you're an infant, change your name when you get to 18, and then proceed to live your life telling no one who you really are or where you came from.

Other than these points, if you simply answer the census taker's questions without being "creative", have lots of kids and stay in one place over a great deal of time, I'll have no real problem with you.

Making Contacts: Glenn "Bud" Carlson Family

After waiting a few weeks for my mother to get some time to call some relatives, I finally took the lead and tracked down my cousin Joyce. Joyce was understandably reluctant to talk to me until I recounted to her exactly who I was, and why I wanted to sell her on this pyramid sche....er, family tree site.

Once we started talking, she recognized me as that odd kid that used to hang out at family reunions in the early 80s wearing what passed for possibly the worst fashion statements known to man. I was a true connoisseur of the "muscle shirt".

Joyce gave me some contact information for her sisters Lisa and Andrea, letting me know that once I've finished scanning in the imagery from my grandfather's old collection, I should start in on her father's collection, which is sitting in Andrea's garage in Portland.

After getting hold of Andrea, I confirmed that she's indeed sitting on a pile of old film (well, not literally. She has a life) that has been following her from house to house for many years know. She also wanted me to try and digitally clean up some images from her wedding, so it looks like I'll be doing this for a while. I don't mind it...it kind of makes me feel like one of those CSI guys. I just have to figure out how to lift incriminating DNA off of some of these older prints.

I didn't manage to get Lisa on the phone, but I did talk with her husband Richard and then, later on that evening, got an email from her daughter Mel. Mel asked on of those "good questions" you wish your own children would ask: "How come there are no pictures of me?"

Well, Mel, it's because you weren't born between the years of 1938 to 1958, were one of my grandfather's brothers, never went on a Gunflint trip, or bothered to marry him. Had you been one of these, you'd inevitably find yourself in one of the following pictures:

1. Being held as a baby by my grandmother.
2. Drinking beer without a shirt someplace on a lake in Canada.
3. Pointing at something, for some unfathomable reason.
4. Surrounded by an incomprehensible amount of Norwegians someplace near Duluth or Superior.

Welcome

Hi there ,and welcome to I Wear Tight Genes, an account of my work on my family tree site as well as publishing old family photos to my Picasa web gallery.

In case you're curious, the photo to the left was taken circa 1970. That's me, along with what my mother assures me are not a pair of rabid dogs, as one might have assumed seeing as my parents are arranging them in fighting position.

In the 36 years since this picture was taken, you can rest assured that I am still the same cute little boy, wearing tight red 70s pants with German Shepard puppies just waiting in the wings in case someone needs to take a picture of me. Spending most of my life sitting in front of a computer for those years hasn't softened me one bit. I mean, look at those abs! You could, I don't know, boil an egg on those abs! ...that's the saying, right?

Anyway, if you're interested in genealogy at all, I'll be posting links to my discoveries as I work through this mountain of information. Additionally, if I find something worthy of a post that's peripherally related to my quest, I might just strike together some keys for that as well. Finally, as I reach out and contact members of my extended family, I'll be using this blog to humiliate them publicly. So, fair warning if we share genes.