Just curious

I have a question. Have you ever reached out to or been contacted by a DNA match who is connected to you because of slavery? This came up on a Facebook forum. One African descendant contacted her match who was of  European descendant and was rebuffed.

Through the years I have contacted a few genealogy hobbyists who were related to me and/or related to the slave holder of my ancestor. I have seldom had any issues from the contact. But I am not quick to reach out to those descendants who just may have clues to the lives of my ancestors held in captivity. It's a personal choice.

I also wonder how those European descendants feel when they find that they have relatives whose DNA is mostly sub Saharan African. Most of my DNA matches are not the same color as I am. Even though I am 71%  African, the majority of my matches come from my 26% Irish/Great Britain relatives. They have not reached out to me either. I assume it's because I have little to add to their search. I have been heartened, though, by some who have included my family on their data base.

I understand from what I see on genealogy television shows that many are appalled to find out that their ancestors were slave holders. I think the more egregious fact is that we are related because of institutional rape. That is a far worse thing to get your head around. 

New Year, New Discoveries

I was not very good at keeping up this blog in 2017. Instead I spent much of  last year updating my family history and finally self-publishing it. I have distributed copies to several family members. This was to make sure all my hard work was not in vain and that written information is out there for those who are interested. It is a pet peeve of mine that so many family historians do the hard work of investigating their family but never write it down for others to see.

I had plans to go back to Mississippi. Unfortunately I did not make it. However, I did correspond with a Mississippi cousin who I discovered through AncestryDNA. She is one of the few ancestors I have discovered who is related to me through Winnie Dear, my grandfather Stanley's grandmother. I knew more about our history than she did and I shared that info. One important fact she shared with me was that one of her uncles, which would have been my grandfather's uncle, was lynched in Mississippi. She's not sure of the name because two uncles disappeared from the records. Their last name was Ames. She also told me that one of the other uncles migrated to Chicago because of the lynching. This could have also been a reason for my grandfather moving up north. The other interesting fact was that this particular uncle was a communist, something my grandfather was accused of being because he was a strong union man.

One more thing. The most exciting things I discovered were the photos of my grandfather's maternal grandparents. Photos are priceless. I found these on ancestry.com on a tree of another DNA cousin. These are the parents of Mary Sanders. I wish I had a photo of Mary and Napoleon but I will take what I can get. And who knows, maybe someday those photos will surface too. As an extra added attraction I also found the photo of James, the brother of Mary.

Charles Saunders

Rosa Thomas? Saunders

their son James Saunders

I will try to do better this year. I never stop searching even if I don't blog about it. Happy New Year! Happy New discoveries!

What I learned Part Two

AnestryDna  has been the gift that keeps on giving. It has helped me verify certain identified ancestors and provided clues to other potential ones. Last December it solved a mystery that had tantalized me for years.

Back in 2014, when I first received my DNA results, I noticed one of my matches had an ancestor, Ivory Lucinda Woods, who was born in Crockett County, Tennessee. This is where my maternal grandmother's people lived and some still reside. None of the other names on the tree looked familiar and only this one person was born in Crockett County. Ivie Woods is on the 1900 census living next door to my great-great grandmother Janie Koonce's sister.

I emailed my DNA cousin asking for more information but never heard back from him.  Until two years later, this past December!! He just saw the message. Although he didn't know how we were related, it piqued my curiosity enough to make me look at the connection again.

On my cousin's tree Ivory's father is listed as William Woods but her mother is listed as private. And my cousin never emailed me the mother's name. I had to search for Ivory born August 23, 1895, died 1970, in another family tree. Luckily, I found her and her mother. Her mother's name was Florence. Next I found Florence's death certificate. Her parents names were listed as William Roberts and Judy Clay. Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner. Judy is my great great great grandmother and William is the step-father of my great great grandmother Jane Roberts Koonce. I am on the right trail!

Now here comes the mystery. On the 1880 census, James and Jane list a daughter, Jenie Koonce. Jenie was born in 1871 but Jane was born around 1862 and married James in 1876. Mystery number one. Mystery number two--I could never find Jenie Koonce again in any documents online but I did find a Jenie Roberts that married William Woods in 1892. However, on the 1900 census, William Woods, the same William that is Ivie's father and who is living next door to Jane's sister, is married to Florence and had been married to Florence for eight years. Florence is Jenie!

After further searching, I found out that Florence married Albert P. Yancy after William died. She married Albert Sr. in December of the same year, 1905, that William died. Their tombstones are in New Cemetery, Crockett County, Tennessee, the cemetery of my Koonce and Roberts ancestors.

So I solved the mystery of Jenie Koonce and naturally, another mystery is born. Who was her father? Her mother, Jane, was not married to James when she had her and she also was only around 12 years old. I think this is a secret that was taken to the graves of many of my relatives but DNA has a way of bringing the truth back to life. Maybe I will be able to solve that mystery too in the future

What I learned in 2016 Part One

Welcome 2017! Hope you're better than 2016.

Last year wasn't completely without merit. I learned many new things about my family history and also about myself. After attending the International Black Genealogy Summit in early September, I learned that I am an intermediate researcher and I need more challenging and informative conferences at that level. Of course, it is always a plus to mingle with like-minded people and to meet some of the experts in this field. Meeting and talking with Hari Jones and Kenyatta Berry was the highlight of the conference for me. Jones  is a writer, lecturer, historian, curator and motivational speaker. For twelve years, he was the assistant director and curator at the African American Civil War Freedom Foundation and Museum in Washington, DC. Berry, pictured below, is one of the genealogists featured on Genealogy Roadshow.

 

I learned the hard way how difficult it is to hold a family reunion. The Warrens and the Wilkins on my family tree met in late August. It was a labor of love for me. However, I'm afraid the result of this labor will be a "one of."

I took a trip back to Mississippi, hoping to uncover more information from the family cemetery in Summit. That was a big disappointment. I couldn't even find the tombstones I located on my trip three years ago or so I thought. After looking at the photos I took, I realized one of them was that of my great aunt Elizabeth Cotten Ames' tombstone, one I had discovered on the first trip. It seemed to have deteriorated faster than I would have expected.

Surprisingly, several new information surfaced in the last month of the year. Much of it came about because of the results from my DNA test, a gift that keeps on giving. More on that later.

I made no new resolution this year. The second edition of my family history is finished. There may or may not be a Koonce family reunion this year. I'm not even planning any trips for this year. If I had a resolution it would be to take it one day at a time and thank God for each day.

Time Keeps on Slipping

It has been a while since blogging here. My research continues but it is slow. It has me somewhat discouraged so I don;t post.

In late August, early September I attended the 3rd International Black Genealogy Summit. The workshops were more geared toward beginners. I am now an intermediate researcher, not an expert yet so I'm eager to learn more. But it is becoming harder to find those avenues that are geared toward researchers like me.

Last week I finally made my way back to Mississippi. It was a long over due trip. I have been wanting to attend church services at Rocky Point Baptist Church in Summit so that I could ask if anyone remembered my family. The church has the cemetery where I found my gr-gr-grandmother's tombstone. I got dressed in my Sunday best and made my way to the church in the woods. No one was there. I was dumbfounded. I assumed the church would be open but found out that due to a dwindling, aging congregation, they now hold services every other Sunday. This Sunday was not the Sunday.

Not letting that deter me from my other quest, that of finding more tombstones of my family, I trudged my way up the road to the cemetery. I was met with the barking of a very large dog near by. It had been three years since my last visit during a sweltering summer. The heat was gone and so was my memory of where the tombstones stood. With no one to ask for help, I wandered around the cemetery, taking a few photos, looking for any familiar names. The barking dog discouraged me from staying too long and so I left, extremely discouraged. I hadn't found my ancestors, not even the ones I found before. Or so I thought.

My mission was a failure. Even worse, the photos I took years before had been lost during a external hard drive crash. The only ones I had were those posted to Facebook and ancestry.com.

Yesterday I looked at the recent photos trying to decipher the inscriptions by zooming in on the tombstones. One in particular was hard to read until it was zoomed to reveal that it was one I had photographed before. It belonged to my gr-grandfather's sister, Elizabeth. It had faded so much in three years, I hadn't recognized it. I thought someone had removed the tombstones. Did I just walk past them because they were so hard to read?

Too late I researched how to read faded tombstones. Armed with the discovery that thin aluminum foil can make inscriptions come back to life, I am now encouraged to go back. Taking the foil hand a better camera, I will return sooner rather than later this time. I am driven by the notion that my ancestors are fading away into nothingness. I have to do my best to stop that from happening.

Tombstone of Elizabeth Cotton wife of S.C.Ames, photo taken 2013

Same tombstone taken 2016

unreadable

best guess Lucy wife of James Love

Rocky Point Baptist Church, Summit, Mississippi

Longevity

Solomon Koonce was born a slave around 1826 and died in 1928.  Yesterday, his granddaughter Alma Koonce's funeral was held in St. Louis. That is not a typo. I found this astounding and remarkable.

Alma was the granddaughter of the oldest ancestor I can document on my maternal grandmother's side. Her father was Mose Koonce born in 1865 to Solomon and Amy, my great great great grandmother. Alma was 100 years old. I got to meet her and talk with her at the family reunions. She continued her grandfather's legacy of love for his family. She will be missed.

Dog Day Afternoons

It is sweltering outside but inside it is cool. This is the perfect time to do some armchair sleuthing. Wintertime is perfect too. Hey, if you are addicted to genealogy, like I am, any time is perfect.

Although I've been remiss in posting, I am continuously searching online. I hope to make a few road trips soon to follow up on my internet work.

Earlier I mentioned the find of a possible ancestor. There is little doubt in my mind that Josiah Pridgen fathered my great great grandmother Mary Jane Roberts. He keeps turning up in my DNA matches on ancestry.com. All I need is some kind of paper trail. That, however, may be difficult since we're talking about slavery records. Pridgen did not have a large farm and several farm hands. He only had one adult who I think was Judie Spence, my great great great grandmother, and her children. Still I will keep looking for a definable source.

I confess. I was paranoid when it came to having my DNA tested for genealogical purposes. And I still don't want to look to closely at the fact that my DNA is now on file. But it has been helpful. Is it disingenuous to wish that others, preferably my unidentified third cousins would take the ancestry.dna test too? I have only three close connections so far at this time and all three of them I knew of before they took the test. Then again, my uncle has two close matches but one has a tree that is private and the other has a tree with few names. No help, at all.

Yet, after learning of the surname Spence through DNA evidence and ancestral records, I am on the trail to find those elusive ancestors. The name Nathan Spence and Adaline DeLoach keeps coming up in my DNA matches. Hmmm. The game's afoot!

And one clue leads to another

I hate it when I look at trees on ancestry.com and they are incorrect because someone took one factoid and decided it was correct without checking. I confess I was guilty of this myself when I first started out rooting my tree. All the more reasons why I hate it now in others.

I am fairly certain that Josiah Pridgen is my 2xgreat grandmother's father. However, I still put the question mark on my tree. The DNA doesn't lie but there are so many ancestors out there after you pass the first great grandfather, I rather err on the side of caution.

Still, that clue has led me to another clue. On Mary Jane Roberts' sister's death certificate, it is stated that the sister was born in Cherokee, Alabama in 1866. This makes me more certain that Grandma Jane was also born in Cherokee and closer to being 100% certain  Pridgeon is the father. Even more exciting is that the informant included the maiden name of Jane's mother. It was "Spince." Eureka! I have a surname for Judie.

When I looked at Josiah Pridgen's family tree, I noticed he married Mary Lou Spence in 1842. Spence! On the 1850 slave schedule, Josiah owns one slave, a young girl around 12 years old. I think this was Judie, Jane's mother. It means she was born before the marriage took place likely on the Spence grounds

Unfortunately, the trail seems to end there. For now. I am just beginning to look for more. I'm sure something will turn up. That's what makes genealogy such a nerdy joy. The games afoot!

DNA Detective

I always feel guilty when I look at how long it has been since I posted here. Even though it's been a while, I am still researching, although not as obsessively as I have in the past. For example, I still check my ancestry dna matches every month.

So far most of my matches are distant but my maternal uncle who also took the test had a match that was close, a 3rd to 4th cousin. I checked out the match and looked at the 2x grandparents that my uncle may share with the match. One name stood out because of the location where this person lived. I had never heard this name before--Josiah Pridgen--but he died in Cherokee, Alabama.

My maternal 2xgrandmother Mary Jane Roberts Koonce was born in Alabama. The oral legend claimed that her father was white and her mother was native American-Cherokee. It also claimed that she and her mother came to Tennessee during the Trail of Tears.

That part about the Trail of Tears is wrong because she was born after that infamous trail.  But is it possible that the legend got twisted? Could she have actually lived in and/or be from Cherokee, Alabama?


I checked the 1860 slave schedule for Josiah and he had three slaves who matched my family's ages--
Julie, Jane and the oldest son Joseph--and they were all designated mulatto! Could Josiah be the missing link for the Roberts’ family?

I put it aside for a minute but today I checked my dna matches again. I searched Josiah Pridgen again. He was born in 1812 in North Carolina. His parents were Joel Pridgen and Elizabeth Richardson. In searching for Josiah, the name Zilly Pridgen and Reuben Bachelor were in the results. I searched my dna matches to see if Bachelor or Pridgen came up and hit pay dirt. Through deduction and dna matches, I am certain that Josiah Pridgen is my 3x great grandfather.

Add to that there is a resemblance between Josiah's son Milton and my grandmother Mary Jane especially around the noses.  Or is that just wishful thinking? Photos aside, according to the DNA, I am related to the Pridgen family.

Race, Ethnicity and Other Bugaboos

I have been silent about racism. There has been so much chatter about it, I didn't want to litter the web with more. And this blog is supposed to be more about ancestry than social issues. But I did name the sub-title of my blog "Genealogy in Black and White" for a reason. So. . .

I believe the conversation about racism should begin with the fact that "race" is a myth. Race is a social concept not a biological one. I was not upset that Rachel Dolezal, the Spokane president of the NAACP, identified herself as black. Neither am I upset that Jennifer Beals identifies herself as white. We are different colors and hues. We have different types of noses and mouths and hair. All those things can be altered artificially. And we all belong to different cultural and sub-cultural groups.We can adopt different practices and habits, interchange them. They are not set in stone. So I wish the conversation could begin as "we are all the same and all different,"

As far as ethnicity goes, maybe we're so into hyphens in this country because we're so mixed up. Everyone comes from somewhere else except for the native Americans.  My own DNA test results said my heritage was mostly African, but nearly one third was made up of European. There was also traces of Asian and Amerindian. I chose not to identify myself as African-American even before I got those results. First, I don't like hyphens anyway. I am American by birth. Period. And even though I claim I'm Black, I'm really more of a caramel color.

Anyone from Africa, regardless of their color or hue, who becomes a citizen here could use the designation of African-American. Very few people call themselves European-American. They identify a country instead of a continent. Because of my slavery heritage, I don't know which African country to declare, although 26% of my DNA, the highest percentage, is from a Nigerian ancestor. But then 19% of my DNA, the second highest percentage, came from an Irishman.

I believe when we get around to talking, after beginning with "we are all the same." we should next say  there is no difference that makes one a "real" American or "true" American more than another person. Born, raised or immigrated, we the People are ALL Americans.

Say Their Name

Recently it was leaked that Ben Affleck asked Henry Louis Gates to conceal the fact on "Finding Your Roots" that Afflect had slave holding ancestors in his family tree. Affleck said he was "embarrassed" by this. Some people have criticized him for this. Others have commiserated with him. The thing is, if your American fore-bearers go back to the 18th and even 19th century, chances are some of them were slave holders.

I understand that this may be embarrassing for some. In the course of researching my ancestors, I have run across many embarrassing skeletons in my own  genealogical closet. Life is messy. It is impossible for anyone to have a squeaky clean legacy no matter how much we wish.

My main issue with Affleck's concealment is that by keeping that ancestor's name hidden, he is also keeping the names of the slaves held by his ancestors hidden. Their history is being kept from descendants who may be looking for them.

When "Who Do You Think You Are" aired that Reba McIntire had slave holders in her ancestry, it gave me clues to one of my illusive ancestors. I would never had known this if McIntire had got the producers to keep this embarrassing fact hidden. I haven't had a chance to follow through on that clue yet but because of that broadcast, I now know where to look.

During my years in researching my family, I have been helped personally by descendants of relatives of people who held my ancestors in slavery. I have also been helped by pertinent information posted online by people I will never meet. I wish more people would disclose details about their ancestors, shameful or not.The sins of the father is just that, the sins of the father. That is, unless the son and/or daughter chooses to commit the same sin.

My great grandparents were slaves. I am also the descendant of slave holders. That is my history and I can live with that.

It's Not Easy Being Green

When I was in school, it was the custom to pinch anyone not wearing green on St. Patrick's Day. It had nothing to do with being Irish. I attended a Black segregated public school. However, I would proudly tell my fellow classmates that I really was Irish. This was the oral legend of my family.

Now with the aid of science and DNA testing, I have proof of my Irish heritage. According to ancestry.com, I am a whopping 19% Irish. I still don't know how, when or where, but I am definitely descended from several persons from Ireland. And my Irish ancestors reside behind my brick wall.

I know most of my Black ancestors back to 1825. I only know one White ancestral line up to that date. That is my Featherston line. There may be Irish roots there. The Featherstons did come from England so there may be Irish ties somewhere in that family tree.

What is unique about my Featherston ties is that the interracial union of my great grandparents occurred right after slavery. Those other earlier couplings were, more than likely, forced and they definitely were not documented.

Irish immigrants didn't have it easy when they first arrived here in America. People looked down on  them, discriminated against them, called them "black" among other epitaphs. Some were even held as slaves. Of course, their road to equality cannot compare to Black American's tedious journey.

I'm not sure how I'm supposed to feel about my Irish heritage. I'm no longer that young naive child that gladly pronounced that she was Irish. I don't resent it either. My feelings, like Black genealogy, is complicated.

History Matters

Last year, nearly to the day, I wrote:

"There are many people in the world who do not believe the holocaust happened. There are many people who believe that the sun revolves around the earth. Really. And that dinosaurs roamed the earth as late as 6,000 years ago. And that slavery in America is just a myth.

This last belief confounded me. Well, they all confound me but the last one was a new one on me. Although I am amazed that there are some people out there (really out there) that ascribe to this notion and at their ignorance, sadly, I am not surprised.


This belief was observed by a member  of a Facebook genealogy group I belong to. He posted 'I work in Gettysburg doing tours at the Farnsworth House. I do afternoon historical tours of the house and I talk about the battle in that corner of the town. We have some historical documents framed and hanging on the walls. One is a bill of sale for a slave from Virginia. Last year I had two African American young ladies 17 and 18 from Uniontown PA (south of Pittsburgh) on my tour who upon seeing that told me that they did not believe that slavery ever existed. And that documents like that were just white peoples ploys to keep black folk down. I asked if they took history in high school and they replied that history doesn’t matter.'”

These young ladies chose not to believe a distasteful part of their history. Instead  they decided to use the ostrich method of dealing with it.

About a month ago, this screenshot was posted on the same Facebook genealogy group.

I can only assume that these were also young persons involved in this conversation. At least, I hope so. All I can do is shake my head.

It is said that those who do not know, learn, ignore (choose whichever word you prefer) history, are doomed to repeat it. Kurt Vonnegut says "“We're doomed to repeat the past no matter what. That's what it is to be alive." Looking around at current events, it looks like Vonnegut is right. However, I keep the faith that learning about our history will make us better.

1,000 Words

I read a quote yesterday that boggled my mind. According to the now defunct 1000memories website, every two minutes we take as many photos today as all of humanity took during the entire 19th century. 

Photography became popular and accessible to many during the Civil War. Letters to soldiers usually included a request for a portrait which the soldiers usually complied. These photos were treasures, the next best things to having the real person back at home with their loved ones.  

And those photos are even more precious today because they are hard to find. I have been blessed to have some photographs from the late 19th and early 20th century but I want more.  

Yes, I love a good story. I have been fascinated by the written word from the moment my father walked me, a precocious seven year old, to the local library branch to get my first library card. Yet, I must concur that a picture is worth a 1,000 words. Stories of long-gone ancestors are wonderful but a photo is glorious. Looking into the eyes of a past ancestors and relatives, marking their stance and demeanor, observing the details of fashions from another era, takes one's perception of those individuals to a level not obtained by mere vital statistics. For me, old photos are time machines that captures the past where words may fail. 

So I hunt for old photographs, beg relatives who profess to hoard them, take as many photos as I can for future generations. And I share. Because not only do we take more photos now than ever, we have the technology to scan and post our treasures for all to see.

Columbus and Narcissa Alexanders, my paternal great grandparents

Fred and Posie Warren, my maternal grandparents

Solomon Koonce, born 1826, and family. He is my 3 x great-grandfather on my mother's side

Narcissa Wallace Alexander, my paternal great grandmother

Narcissa's mother, Cinderella Wallace

My maternal great grandmother Lizzie Brassfield Koonce and her sister Cora Brassfield.

Grains of Truth

In 2013 I confirmed an oral legend I had recently learned about my paternal great great grandfather. Up until 2009 my family had never heard about our ancestor John Alexander being in the civil war. I was skeptical even after I found a John Alexander on the roster of U.S. Colored Troops out of Mississippi. After all, John Alexander was a common name. I found dozens of them serving in the war. For that reason, I did not send for the pension papers. It was a lot of money to spend to find out it was the wrong man. I decided to go in person. I justified the expenditure as a trip for business and for fun.

It turned out that the pension papers were for my relatives and it gave me more details about John's life. However, it did not give me the name of his slave holder. That was left blank. I had to deduce who it might be from other evidence. I concluded that the slave holder had been a Huffman. This was also the man my aunt always thought was the slave holder.

Since 2013 I haven't done much more research on John Alexander but I think the ancestors have been nudging me this week. Yesterday I decided to look into John Huffman born in 1801 in Alexandria, Virginia and died in 1882 in Lincoln County, Mississippi.  In 1870, Huffman lived in the same neighborhood as John Alexander. This is one of the clues I have been told to look for when trying to find the slave holder. I looked at Huffman's family tree. Huffman was married to Mary Glass. Her parents were Frederick Mason Glass and Elizabeth Strother. When I saw this I got very excited. You see, according to another oral legend, John Alexander lived on a plantation in Virginia called Strouder. Some of my cousins have told me that "Strawder" was his nickname. Am I on the right trail?

I was still skeptical. Glass and Strother married and lived in Georgia. Georgia was never part of any oral history for Alexander. However,  I was able to find a family tree on ancestry.com for the Glass family. It gave me Mary's ancestry. Her grandfather was William Strouther, born in 1755 and died in 1833 in Virginia. He was living in Fauquier County when he died. Fauquier is adjacent to Rappahannock County, where John Alexander claimed he was born!

I definitely think I'm on the right trail now. It also makes me curious as to whether all the oral legends I have heard have a grain of truth. My to-do list has just gotten longer.

Definition of Frustration

frustration [fruh-strey-shuh n] noun

1. when you get a new DNA match on ancestry and the match has no tree.

2. when your new DNA match has a tree and it is private.

3. when your DNA match has only two persons in their family tree

4. when your match has over 500 names in their tree and you still don't recognize any surnames.

Tell the Story

Over ten years ago I published (self-published) my findings into a book for my family. I felt so proud of what I had done. Holding that book gave me such joy. It was a lot of hard work. Besides years of research,  I wrote, printed, bound, designed the cover--all on my own. But as anyone interested in genealogy knows, this work is never finished. It is always getting updated. So I have been laboring for the past year at putting out a new, updated yet incomplete book.

My goal is to finish by April this year. That is an arbitrary and necessary date. Otherwise, I would never stop writing and researching. Whatever I find after this book is published will have to go into another, updated yet incomplete book.

I have researched different print on demand companies but I haven't decided which one I will use. I may even try to self-publish again. I do like the control. Besides, my purpose for publishing my book is to relay and preserve history for my relatives. Money is not a goal or an issue. 

I firmly believe that every family historian should write the stories down. Oral traditions were great back in the day but we have advanced past then. It isn't important to be a great prize-winning author. It is more vital that what we have learned gets passed down to our descendants.

Brick Walls

I have been researching for nearly 20 years now. I have made great discoveries but I'm still stuck behind the proverbial brick wall. My brick wall is visual.

I know all my great grandparents' names. I even know most of my great-grandparents' names. And there it stops. Except for five names, I know little or nothing of my great great great grandparents. And therein lies my problem.

I was so excited when I got my DNA results back from Ancestry.com. I received all these wonderful matches. I even have two circles with shared ancestors. The problem was that those shared ancestors were already known to me. Yes, it did confirm that Charles Featherston was my great grandfather and that was nice. However, I was hoping for something more enlightening. And that won't come until I can figure out more about my great great great grandparents.

Unfortunately, the DNA results has also confirmed another assumption I had made. I am alone in my family when it comes to this pursuit. My closest relatives to have their DNA tested, except for my uncle, are distant 4th cousins. That means we share --you got it-- an unknown great great great grandparent.

So I will continue to scour the records as I try to chip away at that wall and I will continue to pray that more of my cousins, closer cousins, catch this genealogy bug. It could happen.

Once More With Feeling Again

I've been very bad at keeping up any blog lately. I am still researching every week. I still have the passion and the disappointments. It just seems that writing about it has become less of a priority.

At the beginning of every year I vow to write more and then the writing peters off. Sometimes it peters off because I'm doing rather than contemplating. I think this is a good thing. Sometimes I just don't write because I have nothing new to report.

So this year I will begin again. I will try again. The purpose for the blog has always been two-fold: to chronicle my research for myself and to help others who are interested in genealogy. Maybe if I keep those reasons uppermost in my mind, I won't slough off.

Here goes.

Genealogical bread crumbs

I'm trying to see if DNA can chip away my brick walls. I was a little disappointed that I wasn't able to come up with anything new after the inspirational conference I had attended. So today I decided to concentrate on my Cotten family mysteries.

To recap, my great grandfather is Napoleon Cotten. His mother is Winnie Deer. It took me years to find them on the 1870 census mainly because I was looking for Cottens. Then on one of my searches I used only the first names and the state, Mississippi. Heritage Quest rewarded me with success. I found the whole family in 1870 in Amite County. The reason I couldn't find them before was because I wasn't looking for Andersons, the surname they were using in 1870.

I then tried to find them on various Amite county farms owned by Andersons. Moses Gordon Anderson became a person of interest in my mystery. He lived near Winnie in 1870. In 1860, he owned 40 slaves including a 100 year old woman named Sophia. On the slave schedule, following the tip I learned at the conference, I noticed a family group that corresponded to the ages of Winnie's family. There were discrepancies. There was a one year old male. On Winnie's tombstone and on the 1900 census, she is recorded with only three sons and a daughter. If this is Winnie, she is recorded on this slave schedule with four sons. Also the ages of the sons were a little off except for Napoleon's.

I then looked at the 1850 slave schedule. M. G. Anderson owns 23 slaves.  They are separated into two groups. On the smaller group, there is a 15 year old female, the right age for Winnie,  and possibly her oldest son Hiram at one year old.

I went back to 1840 and found Anderson with a new wife and seven slaves. I checked out his bride. Her name was Cynthia Carolyn Causey, daughter of Capt. William Causey and Susanna Jackson. The Captain had died in 1828 and left a will. He had sired many children. He also possessed many slaves. He willed only one, "negro girl named Mary" to his daughter Cynthia. Now I know Mary is a very common name and it means very little but it still gave me a glimmer of hope that this was Winnie's mother, Mary. And when I checked the 1840 census, Anderson owned only two female slaves-a child under 10 and a woman between 24 and 35 years old. Could this be Mary and Winnie?

I continued searching family trees for the Causeys on ancestry.com. I came across a familiar name. The woman who owned one of the Causey family trees was also a match to me through DNA!!!

I still have much to do to determine who was the shared ancestor. Her family tree had a surname that was also on my family tree-- Cain. We may be connected that way. Cynthia  Causey's brother had married Lucretia Cain, a daughter of Isaiah Cain and sister to Mary Cain Cotten. These same surnames keep coming up. That is why I am holding out hope that this bread crumb trail will finally lead me to the ancestors of Winnie and Napoleon and knock down that brick wall.