Friends - and family?

Twice in the past month I have been chatting with long term friends and got onto the subject of family trees (I tend to wait for it to emerge in conversation organically rather than being all evangelical about it!).

On the first occasion I offered to show my friend Mrs J the online sources I use. One thing led to another and within 40 minutes she was hooked - and we were back to the 1851 census...and a BMD marriage reference including a Bates from Norfolk. There was a pregnant pause as we looked at the screen and considered the ramifications - could we be related?

A little extrea research showed that while my Bates family come from near Norwich (and were probably called Betts before the 1730s), Mrs J's Bates family were from far west Norfolk. So if there is a link, it is way, way back.

Then yesterday I had a vino catch up with Mrs L, a Scottish friend. Talking about her mother's upcoming 70th birthday party she went on to mention her Glasgow grandfather, Tom - Tom Daly.

"Er...any relation to Fred Daly?", I asked.

Fred was my grandad's stepfather, father of uncles Joe & John who both still live in sunny Scotland.

Daly is a relatively common Irish Catholic surname in Glasgow, linked with the shipyards. But could there be a link that makes us not just friends, but family?

Mum's memories

Family history doesn't have to be lists of names from centuries ago. My mum shared some of her childhood memories with me this weekend. We went for a pint in Blackburn and chose a pub that is opposite the shop that she grew up in in the 1950s.

The paper shop that her parents managed (along with 2 more in Blackburn and 3 in Bolton) is now a fastfood takeaway and a cab office. Mum grew up above the shop and played with the local kids in the bank next door while it was being cleaned. She met my dad in the Mecca Ballroom round the corner in 1967 - 'those were boozy days' she said!

She recalled moving to a flat further out of town when her parents got fed up of managing the six shops. Her dad got a job in Matthew Brown brewery (where he stayed until his retirement in 1985) and her mum (after a brief spell making slippers) got a job at Queen's Park Hospital where she stayed until her retirement in 1985. Then they moved to a semi near Shadsworth, and she recalled visits by her Scottish cousins (who ahd a sort of camper van vehicle) and even her Great Aunt Rose from Canada (I had no idea mum had ever met her).

Some great pictures of Blackburn can be found here.

Mum also told me about how she and my dad had to hide their engagement. And how I was taken to visit my own great grandmother and great, great aunty (left) in Lincolnshire as a baby in 1976.

Suddenly the family tree felt very much alive and we had another pint of dark mild.

The joys of genealogy

Sometimes I do feel a bit of a genealogy geek. Everything about family history enthrals me and I am genuinely passionate about it.

So, when asked to research a friend's family tree I jumped at the chance. They offered to cover costs of certificates, printing etc. and even offered to pay for my time. I agreed to conduct two hours of research...ten hours later I was as hooked on theis person's tree as I ever have been on my own!

Today I presented my findings and talked my friend through her family tree, complete with names, dates, information on occupations and locations. I'd even unearthed a link to an infamous Highwayman!

Much more than any financial reward, her looks of absolute amazement, joy and wonderment made all my time and effort worthwhile.

Giving someone their family tree makes a really great, personal gift.

Scotland

My maternal grandfather was born in Glasgow in 1920 but headed south to Lancashire upon his return from the Far East in World War 2 to settle in Bolton. I've never really traced his family - although he had three half brothers, I had met one of them once (at my grandad's fuenral) and spoken to another on the phone once.

Then out of the blue I got a call from my great aunt, wife of one of these half brothers. She said she'd heard that I had done a family tree and could she have one for her husband (now 80!)?

So I wrote up a little story about my great grandmother, mother to the four brothers. And decided to invest a wee bit of cash in finding out soem more about the Scottish clan. I used ScotlandsPeople and found the marriages of my grandad's brothers and the births of their children - my mother's first cousins. I also went back a few generations. All for about £18.

It's grand to see that I carry the same given name as several direct male ancestors, and to see how my middle name came down to me.

If various illegitimate births had been legitimate, by rights I should have Scossa as a middle name!

Is age just a number?

Just discovered that my great grandmother's little brother, the wonderfully named Leonard Frank Silverton Walker (born 1897) married Martha Porter in 1926.

A few searches for her didn't find any relevant births or deaths.

Then a fellow researcher on www.genesreunited.co.uk checked the registers of Whaplode for me. Turns out Martha was 65 years old when she married the 29 year old Leonard. The census records of 1891 and 1901 suggest she was actually born in 1858.

So Leonard married a woman who was 39 years his senior...

Coins

Great to find Criminal Records at www.ancestry.co.uk, especially as my stepmother's erstwhile ancestors appear in more than one as counterfeiters of coins. Ten years in prison for James Sweetman and then a desperate time in the local workhouse for his four children...

More map fun

Family historians are a funny lot. Who else would get excited by the arrival of a death certificate?

I ordered one last week from GRO for my great x 5 uncle (we weren't close, don't worry) John Bates who died in Hackney in 1838 ( I gleaned that from his will). I only discovered he existed beyond the baptismal register last year and was thrilled to find he moved south from Norfolk and made a life for himself as a cabinet maker in east London (quite rural Middlesex in those days).

So, John - born in 1768 in rural Norfolk and the second son of my great x6 grandparents (John Bates, shoemaker and his wife Mary Dunnell) ended his days at 2 Coleharbor Street, in the subdistrict of Hackney Road in Bethnal Green. Aged 70 years he had succumbed to 'decay of nature' (don't we all?) and died at the home of his only surviving daughter, Ann Pank.

Again using Greenwood's amazing map and A Topographical Dictionary of London and its Environs by James Elmes (handily readable due to the wotsit on Google) I can place the street in modern times as under a basketball court immediately south of Bethnal Green itself. It must have been a very different place 181 years ago.

I'm sure my lot would be classed as 'boring' by the Who Do You Think You Are gang (as were Michael Parkinson's) but I still get excited when I find out a bit more about one of them.