I’m having some Saturday Night Genealogy Fun (#SNGF), with help from Randy Seaver and his prompts! Feel free to join in.

SNGF: Three Things about Dad

Saturday Night Genealogy Fun: June 20, 2026

Prompt: “Sunday is Father’s Day in the USA, and usually a time for memories and gratitude to our paternal birth person. For this week’s SNGF, tell us three things about your father that are special and memorable to you.”

Introduction

Dad could have become a distant memory.

In the days when divorce often meant that the mother had custody and the father had “visitation,” it would have been easy for him to fade into the background of our lives. But that was never Dad’s way.

He bucked the system and got every-other-weekend visitation, which he kept up for a decade until we were grown, along with two weeks each summer. Because of that persistence, I do not have to reach for faint impressions of him. I have memories. Real ones. Plenty of them.

Which is fortunate, because this week’s prompt asks for three things that made Dad special and memorable to me.

And yes, I know Dad is probably annoyed with me from beyond the grave for being late with this post.

But, Dad, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

1. Dad Had a Strong Sense of Justice

Dad had a very strong sense of right and wrong, and he did not particularly care who he had to challenge in order to do what he believed was fair.

He fought in court for his daughters when it would have been immensely easier to let it go. First, there was the fight for visitation. Later, there was a custody fight. Those were not small things. They took time, money, energy, and determination. But Dad believed he belonged in our lives, and he acted on that belief.

That sense of justice did not disappear when we grew up. In retirement, he became a frequent writer of letters to the editor of the local newspaper, doing his best to make sure people saw things “the right way.”

Or, at least, Dad’s way.

There was something very consistent about that. Whether in court, in the newspaper, or in ordinary conversation, Dad believed things mattered. Fairness mattered. Truth mattered. Showing up mattered.

2. Dad Kept Stretching His Boundaries

Dad was an accountant, which might suggest a man of numbers, order, and sensible routines.

And he was that.

But he was also the father who would wake me up to show me the beauty of the full moon.

When I was small and scared during a thunderstorm, he sat with me and helped me see the lightning differently. Instead of treating it only as something frightening, he showed me the pretty way it lit up the backyard.

That stayed with me.

Dad was willing to stretch beyond what came naturally to him. This city boy became a tent camper when he had a girlfriend who liked to camp. He did not have to become outdoorsy, but he was willing to try something new. He was willing to step outside his usual boundaries.

I think that is one of the quieter lessons he gave me: you do not have to be only one thing. You can be practical and still notice beauty. You can be cautious and still try something unfamiliar. You can be an accountant and still wake your child up to see the moon.

3. Dad Believed in Education

The theme that keeps reverberating through my life is Dad’s emphasis on education.

Education helped him get ahead in life, and he did his best to make sure his children had that opportunity, too. Two of his three children hold master’s degrees. My charitable inclinations have always leaned toward educational causes. I am a lifelong learner, frequently finding some new formal education to try out. Even my career has developed around technical training.

That influence did not stop with a diploma or a single phase of life. It became part of how I understand the world.

Learn more. Try again. Take the class. Read the book. Figure it out.

That sounds like Dad.

Thank You, Dad

So those are three things that made Dad special and memorable to me: his sense of justice, his willingness to stretch, and his deep belief in education.

But really, they all come back to the same thing.

Dad showed up.

He showed up in court. He showed up every other weekend. He showed up for summer visits. He showed up during thunderstorms. He showed up with opinions, newspaper letters, moonlit moments, and high expectations.

Thank you, Dad – for those things, and so much more.

Figure 1 Dad and me at my high school graduation

AI Disclosure

This post was created by me with the help of AI tools. While AI helps organize research, the storytelling and discoveries are my own.

I’m having some Saturday Night Genealogy Fun (#SNGF), with help from Randy Seaver and his prompts! Feel free to join in.

Saturday Night Genealogy Fun: June 13, 2026

Prompt: “Were you lucky enough to receive or find artifacts from your ancestors (parents, grandparents, others) as you pursued your genealogy research? Describe one or more of the artifacts you found or received and where you obtained them?”

Introduction

One person’s “why are we keeping this?” may be a genealogist’s “thank goodness someone did.” The artifacts our ancestors left behind, whether treasured heirlooms or forgotten odds and ends, can open small windows into their daily lives, their values, their work, and sometimes even their secrets.

Would that we all had boxes full of family artifacts waiting to be discovered.

Although, to be fair, perhaps not too many boxes. I’ve heard that can become its own genealogical problem. It just isn’t one I’ve personally had.

My own collection of family artifacts is fairly small, which makes me treasure the few pieces I do have all the more. I have written before about the Britton forks, but because they are among the most meaningful artifacts in my possession, they deserve another moment in the spotlight.

The Britton Forks

My grandmother, Edith Makey West, lost her mother, Alice Britton Makey, when Grandma was only three years old. Alice’s parents were already gone by then as well, so Grandma grew up with very little direct connection to her maternal family. She had a beloved aunt, but not much else that tied her to the Britton side.

That is part of what makes the forks so special.

Somehow, Grandma came to have a set of forks marked with the initial B, presumably for Britton, Alice’s maiden name. I do not know exactly how they passed down to her, or who first owned them, but I can imagine what they must have meant. For a little girl who lost her mother so young, even an ordinary household object could become something precious.

A fork is not usually the kind of thing that makes history books. It does not announce itself as important. It does not come with a biography attached. But when it is one of the few tangible links a daughter has to her mother’s family, it becomes something more than silverware.

It becomes a connection.

Grandma’s Gift

Many years later, when I got bit by the genealogy bug, Grandma became my biggest supporter and champion. She was the one who challenged me to connect her line to “the” Staten Island Brittons: the Brittons who settled in that New York area in the 1660s.

Eventually, I did.

That discovery mattered to both of us. For Grandma, it helped restore a piece of family history that had been thinned by early loss. For me, it turned names and dates into something deeply personal. This was not just a lineage on paper. This was Grandma’s mother’s family. This was the family represented by that small initial B on the forks she had kept.

At some point, Grandma proudly gave the Britton forks to me. One of them now hangs on my wall.

It is a simple object, but I am honored to have it. I am honored to hold something that helped connect Grandma to the mother she barely knew, and I am honored that she trusted me to carry that connection forward.

Postscript

I married a man with a B last name, which makes the forks feel oddly at home in my family, too.

Maybe one day they should go to my daughter-in-law. After all, sometimes the best family artifacts are the ones that keep gathering meaning as they move from one generation to the next.

AI Disclosure

This post was created by me with the help of AI tools. While AI helps organize research, the storytelling and discoveries are my own.

I’m having some Saturday Night Genealogy Fun (#SNGF), with help from Randy Seaver and his prompts! Feel free to join in.

Saturday Night Genealogy Fun: May 16, 2026

Prompt: “Determine where your ancestral families were in May 1876 — 150 years ago. List them, their family members, their birth years, and their residence location (as close as possible).”

Introduction

150 years ago, for me, means that no one I knew was alive then. Certainly it’s possible but it didn’t happen in my case. So this location-gathering is all evidence-based.

What surprised me as I worked through the list was how scattered they already were. Some families were still in long-familiar places in Suwałki, Staten Island, Morris County, or Ohio. Others were already in motion, recently arrived, orphaned, widowed, separated, or just beginning the moves that would shape the next generation. Looking at May 1876 this way turns a date on the calendar into a family map.

The numbers used will be my children’s ahenentafel numbers.

Discussion

11. Ida Rabinowitz was born as Khaya Rabinovich in 1872 in Vyskie, Seiny, Suwalki (now in Lithuania) to a trader family headed by Mortkhel Rabinovich and Khana Rachkovski (birth record dated 1875), though she later claimed to be born in 1879, consistently shaving seven years off her age. (She married a man born in 1878.) She is the sixth known child, preceded by siblings Sora Leya, Avrum, Shimon, Aron Szimel, and Traina.

16. Bernat Birnbaum (also known as Joe, Bernard) was born in Czechoslovakia. He married FANNY STEINBERG before 1885, as their son Samuel was born in that year. So in May 1876 he was presumably a young man in Czechoslovakia.

17. Fanny Steinbergwas born perhaps in Czechoslovakia. She married BERNARD BIRNBAUM (also known as Joe, Bernat) before 1885, as their son Samuel was born in that year.

18. Joseph Frank was born in April 1852 in Russia. He immigrated to the United States in December 1872 and settled in Manhattan, New York, where he remained for the rest of his life. I have not located him in the United States prior to 1887, so cannot confidently say where he was in May 1876. He was not with family that I know about.

19. Jennie (Sheindel) Felder was born on December 20, 1859, in Austria-Hungary. She emigrated about 1886, so in May 1876 would have been in Austria-Hungary, I suppose with her parents Joseph Felder and Rosie.

20. Szmujl/o Morthaj “Mordecai” Gudelski was born June 20, 1837, in Suwalki, Congress Poland. He married Cywa ‘Sylvia’ Bachrach in 1855 in Suwalki when both were 19 years old. By 1875, they had several children born Suwalki: Yochevet, Kuna, Mowsza Lejba, Abraham, Berko, and Szepszel.

21. Cywa “Sylvia” Bachrach was born in 1835, probably in Suwalki, and was having children with 20. Mordecai Gudelski above in 1875.

22. Mortkhel Rabinowitz and 23. Khana Rachkovski. Mortkhel was born about 1828 and Khana about 1828-1833. They married by 1864 when their first child was born. They lived in Veisiejai, Sejny, Suwalki, in 1864.

24. Michael Joseph Anderson was born on April 20, 1874, in Staten Island, Richmond, NY. He lived with his parents Michael Anderson and Theresa Kilkenny Anderson, and his younger sister Theresa, in 1876, his older sister Mary Ann having died the prior year.

28. Adam Grant West was born on May 2, 1866, in Liberty Center, Henry County, Ohio, the seventh child to parents John Thomas West and Patience Spiegle.

29. Charlotte Mae DuShannon had been orphaned and in 1876 was living in the Bridgeport (Connecticut) Protestant Orphan Asylum when Chester and Mary Peters assumed her guardianship.

40. Manel Nochim Gudelski was born ca. 1798-1807. He married 41. Rejza Hirszowna, born about 1807. They were living in Suwalki in 1873, and she died a widow in 1885.

43. Rochla was born about 1799-1800, and married Mowsza Bachrach. She died 8 April 1867 in Suwałki.

44. Rubin Rabinovich, born ca 1804 probably in or near Dusnica (Dusznycia), gm Dumble, near Sejny, Suwałki Governorate — a small rural settlement in what is now Podlaskie Voivodeship, Poland, near the Lithuanian border. He died on May 2, 1877, at age 73, in Dusnitse village, Krasnovo area, Sejny, Suwalki, so I have to assume he was in the area in 1865.

48. Michael Anderson had married 49. Theresa Kilkenny and had three children by 1876. They were living in Staten Island, Richmond County, New York.

50. Andrew Driskol was probably living with his wife 51. Malvina Hendel in Manhattan as recent immigrants, with their children, Edward, Edith (if still alive at that time), and Mary.

52. William Carey and his wife 53. Mary C. Keoghan were newly naturalized in Morris County, New Jersey, with then-children James, Mary, William, John, Andrew, and Catherine. William worked for the railroad.

54. James Hart was a boy with his parents John Hart and Johanna Dobbins in 1876, in Hibernia, Morris County, New Jersey. He had older siblings Timothy and Michael, and younger siblings at that time Mary, unknown, John, and Margaret.

55. Bridget Agnes Kearney was a young woman soon to marry, with her father Matthew Kearney, in Randolph, Morris County, NJ. Her mother Eliza Culligan may or may not have been alive during 1876.

56. John Thomas West Sr. and his wife 57. Patience Spiegle were living in Liberty Center, Henry County, Ohio, in 1876, with or recently split from his father John West. Their children in 1876 were Mary Ann, John Jr., Fannie, Adam, Eva, and Wilbur.

60. Henry Mackey was in Buffalo, Erie, New York in 1876 with his parents William Mackey and Ann Dolan, as well as siblings Edward, John, Margaret, and Mary Ann. He may well have been dating the woman he’d marry the following year.

61. Ellen McCourt was living with her father Patrick McCourt in the 1875 census, and presumably still in 1876, and with her widowed sister and two niblings.

62. Cornelius Britton was married to his first wife Frances Housman in 1876, and they were living in Brooklyn, New York and their first two sons Frank and Willard.

63. Alice Matilda Smith was separated from her first husband, living with her parents Jason Smith and Mary Denny in Staten Island, and her child Louis Seawood.

108. John Hart and his wife 109. Johanna Dobbins were living in Hibernia, Morris, NJ with their children Timothy, Michael, James, Mary, unknown, John, and Margaret. He was recently naturalized and worked as a miner.

110. Matthew Kearney was with one of his wives or between them, a miner in Randolph, Morris, NJ, and his children Thomas, Bridget, Martha, John, Ann, and Matthew.

112. John B. West was living in Liberty Center, Henry County, OH. He was widowed and had been living with son John and family but I believe had moved out due to differences between them by then. He died later that year, never having reconciled with that son.

120. William Mackey was living in Buffalo, Erie, New York, with his wife 121. Ann Dolan. Their children Edward and Henry were still at home in 1875.

122. Patrick McCourt was perhaps living with his widowed daughter Mary in 1876. He would soon go into an old age asylum and die soon after.

124. Cornelius Britton and his wife 125. Harriet Barker were living in Staten Island, their children having flown the nest, though they were only 46 and 42, he working as a carpenter.

126. Jason M. Smith and his wife 127. Mary Catherine Denny were also living in Staten Island.

218. Michael Dobbins and his wife 219. Mary Malone had settled in Shawnee, Wyandotte, Kansas, by 1876. Their immigration path had brought them from Ireland via New Jersey (where their daughter Johanna and another daughter Margaret remained).

250. Stephen Barker and his wife 251. Mary Miller were living in Manhattan, either on Rivington or Hudson streets.

Those are all of my children’s ancestors known or believed to be alive in May 1876. Some locations are documented, some are carefully inferred, and a few remain frustratingly uncertain. But taken together, they offer a remarkable snapshot: families rooted in old communities, immigrants beginning again, children growing up in households that would soon change, and ancestors whose paths were slowly converging toward the people we would eventually know as family.

ChatGPT, 19May2026

AI Disclosure

This post was written by me with the help of AI tools for organization and editing. The memories, family details, and reflections are my own.

I’m having some Saturday Night Genealogy Fun (#SNGF), with help from Randy Seaver and his prompts! Feel free to join in.

Saturday Night Genealogy Fun: May 2, 2026

Prompt: “What did your ancestral families do during the Great Depression (1930-1940)? Did they keep their jobs and standard of living?  Did they suffer personally or economically?”

Introduction

My grandmother told me that her father, Henry Makey, had gotten a pay cut during the Depression and they moved to a cheaper apartment. What can I learn around that?

Discussion

In the 1930 census [Ancestry link], as the Great Depression was just getting going (the stock market had crashed on October 28, 1929), Henry Makey (or someone) informed the census taker that they were paying $73 rent for their family of five. He worked as a steamroller engineer on NYC asphalt (Grandma said he paved the streets). The family owned a radio.

Two of the children moved out in the 1930s. From the way Grandma talked, it sounds like she married out (1935) after they moved to the smaller place, but I would love to go to a library for city or telephone directories to verify.

In the 1940 census [Ancestry link], Henry Makey rented at a different place in Queens, for $48 rent, for his family of three. He was still in the same occupation and had earned $3,120 for 52 weeks of work in 1939. That works out to about $60 a week. They reported that he was in the “same place” in 1935.

Grandma’s memory holds up well. The records do not directly show Henry’s pay cut, but they do show the Makey family moving from a $73 apartment in 1930 to a $48 apartment by 1940, while Henry continued in the same line of work and worked a full 52 weeks in 1939. That suggests the Depression did not push him out of work, but it may still have changed what the family could comfortably afford. Moving to a cheaper apartment was exactly the kind of practical adjustment a family might make when income became uncertain or reduced.

ChatGPT, 03May2026

AI Disclosure

This post was created by me with the help of AI tools. While AI helps organize research, the storytelling and discoveries are my own.

I’m having some Saturday Night Genealogy Fun (#SNGF), with help from Randy Seaver and his prompts! Feel free to join in.

Saturday Night Genealogy Fun: April 25, 2026

Prompt: “Who Is Ancestor #50 in your Ahnentafel list?  What were his birth date and place, his parents, death date and place, spouse’s name, marriage date and place, and how many children they had, and which of his children do you descend from?”

Introduction

I’ve been working since 2021 on an ancestry book based on my children’s ahnentafel. So those are the only ancestor numbers I talk about! That particular number is assigned to Andrew Driskol, on my side. My children descend from Andrew through his daughter Anna Driskol, who married Michael Joseph Anderson in 1906.

Discussion

Andrew would be my children’s 3x great grandfather. What an interesting choice! Andrew is such a mystery to me. Despite the fact that he lived well into the late 19^th century, I have not yet found direct evidence of his existence. Everything I have is something that was reported by/around his children regarding their father.

I believe Andrew was born ca. 1835-1840. He apparently moved to England and married Malvina Hendell probably between 1860 and 1864. Based on children, he probably emigrated to the US about 1868-1869, followed by his wife and eldest children (ages 11 and 9) in 1875. (Malvina’s immigration is the first paper trail I have on any of them.)

They had children in New York City, then Staten Island, Richmond County, New York, until 1883.

I believe he died about 1890, since his eldest son purchased property then, suggesting assumption of family financial responsibility. By the 1900 census, Malvina was a widow and eldest son Edward was the head of household. Malvina died soon after.

Genealogical Summary

Andrew Driskol was born ca. 1835-1840 in Prussia. He married Malvina Hendell probably between 1860 and 1865, possibly in England. Andrew immigrated to the United States about 1868-1869, followed by his wife and eldest children about 1875. He died between 1883 and probably 1890. Documentation for Andrew’s life derives primarily from his children’s vital records, as direct records for him have not been located in standard repositories.

Children of Andrew Driskol and Malvina Hendell:

                                   i. Edward A DRISKOL was born in Feb 1865 in Germany. He arrived on the Holland in 1875. He lived on Van Pelt Ave in Staten Island between 1890 and 1900. In 1900 Edward was an Electrician. He moved to Queens between 1928/9 and 1938. He died after 1938. Note: I don’t believe Edward ever married – in one rather late land record, he was referred to as “single man.”

                                   ii. (perhaps) Edith DRISKOL was born about 1866 probably in England. Note: I believe she died young.

                              2  iii. Mary Malvina DRISKOL, born Mar 1873, New York City ; married Eugene HEMSTREET, 14 May 1891, Northfield, Staten Island; married Francis J VAN DUSKY, 14 Apr 1926, Manhattan; died 9 Mar 1938, Staten Island. Note: Interestingly, after Josephine died, and her sister Mary was widowed, Mary married Josephine’s widower. They had no children, but Mary did by her first husband: Grace, Edward, and Lillian.

                              3  iv. Josephine R DRISKOL, born 1878, Staten Island; married Francis J VAN DUSKY, 27 Dec 1899, Staten Island; died 4 Apr 1925, Staten Island. They also had three children: Edward, Mildred, and Dorothy.

                              4  v. Anna DRISKOL (my ancestor), born 10 Jul 1880, Staten Island; married Michael Joseph ANDERSON, 16 Aug 1906, Staten Island; died 19 May 1922, Staten Island. They had four children: Theresa, Mary, Frances, and Edward, my grandfather.

                                   vi. Joseph DRISKOL was born on 5 Jan 1883 in New York City. Joseph died on 27 Nov 1925 at the age of 42 in Staten Island. He never married.

Challenge

Andrew has always been a challenge to me. Every so often, I resolve to try again on him, and one day I will break through!

I blogged about Andrew in Disappeared and again in Overlooked.

Who is YOUR #50?

AI Disclosure

This post was created by me with the help of AI tools. While AI helps organize research, the storytelling and discoveries are my own.

I’m having some Saturday Night Genealogy Fun (#SNGF), with help from Randy Seaver and his prompts! Feel free to join in.

Saturday Night Genealogy Fun: April 18, 2026

Prompt: “Have you found an unexpected record recently (or at any time) in your genealogy and family history research?  A document, a book, an article, a letter, etc. This week, please tell us about that unexpected record find and how it helped your research.”

Introduction

My most unexpected record was a letter written by my ancestor 343 years ago!

Discussion

How often has “dumb luck” aided our research? Probably more often than we would like to admit. This was one of those moments.

I submitted a genealogical query and received a response that broke a brick wall wide open. Suddenly, three new generations appeared. When I searched for the oldest of them, I struck gold.

Louis Thibou and his family were French Huguenots who fled France as religious tensions escalated. They went first to London, then sailed to Carolina, where they settled near Charleston in 1680.

Three years later, Louis wrote a letter to his friend Gabriel Boutefoy in London, encouraging him and his friends to come as well. Somehow, that letter has survived. I was blessed to hold it in my own hands at the South Caroliniana Library.

The letter reads almost like a promotional piece for Carolina, but it also contains priceless family detail: “God has given us a son who is called Jacob after the one we lost in England; the captain of a warship was his godfather. Gabriel is well and kisses the hands of his godfather and godmother.” Young Gabriel was my ancestor. I can’t begin to express the awe I felt holding that letter in my hands. Louis thought he was reaching across an ocean but he was also reaching across centuries.

That is what astonishes me most: after all the careful, methodical work that went into finding this line, I was suddenly able to hear my ancestor’s voice across more than three centuries. Research takes discipline, yes, but sometimes it also feels like grace.

Figure 1: Me with the letter written (in French) by my 9^th great grandfather.

References

• A brief history of the Huguenots may be found at Huguenots | South Carolina Encyclopedia
• More on the passengers of the Richmond is at Who Were the Passengers on the Richmond?
• A webpage about Louis’ letter has been archived at Letter from Louis Thibou to friends and family in France, 1683 | archive.org

AI Disclosure

This post was created by me with the help of AI tools. While AI helps organize research, the storytelling and discoveries are my own.