My oldest written family letter is the one written by my great-great grandmother Patience SPIEGEL WEST and documented here.
My grandfather A. Gordon WEST, Patience’s grandson, worked 40 years at a newspaper, and after retirement, wrote the occasional letter to the editor, according to an online newspaper site.
Discussion
But my dad Robert E. ANDERSON was the prolific writer in my family. As a child, I remember him, newly divorced, pouring his angst into writing poetry. I wrote about an audio recording of him reading a poem which moved me.
He became active in the local chapter of the group Parents Without Partners and edited their newsletter for many years.
He wrote new lyrics to existing tunes and had my sister and me sing them.
When I searched my dad’s name and location at an online newspapers site, I found dozens of letters to the editor indexed there, ranging from 2003 to 2008 (the year before he died). So after retirement, I see that he got politically vocal, and maybe if he hadn’t died unexpectedly, he would have become politically – and oratorically – active as well.
Our writing doesn’t stand still; it grows alongside us, shaped by heartbreak, hope, purpose, and even politics. My dad’s words shifted from raw, poetic reflections during a difficult chapter to witty song lyrics and, later, passionate letters to the editor. What we choose to write, and how we write it, often mirrors the seasons of our lives. Whether it’s personal, creative, or civic-minded, each stage leaves its own kind of ink on the page.
How AI Can Help
If you’ve got a family writer (or are the family writer), AI can be a thoughtful writing partner. Tools like ChatGPT can help:
Transcribe recordings: Remember that audio clip of my dad reading poetry? AI can turn it into text in seconds, making it easier to save, search, or share.
Clean up OCR text: Found a letter or newspaper clipping with poor formatting? AI can help you fix those errors without pulling your hair out. (Check the cleanup. Always double-check the results.)
Organize writing samples: Whether it’s letters, poems, or newsletters, AI can help categorize and summarize them so you can spot patterns or track how someone’s writing evolved over time.
Generate prompts: Stuck staring at a blank screen? AI can toss out memory-jogging questions or writing starters, perfect for family historians or reluctant memoirists. I, one of the least creative people I know, often use LLM models to give me ideas.
Even if your relatives weren’t published authors, AI makes it easier to find and preserve the words they left behind—and maybe rediscover the writer in yourself.
Challenge for Readers
Find a writing, any sort of writing, that a family member has created. Grab a takeaway from it and share with the family.
If desired, use AI to assist. AI can summarize, share, suggest… there are many points in the process at which AI can be a helpful partner.
Want to Learn More?
If you’re interested in exploring how AI can support your family history writing, check out these resources:
FamilySearch Labs: AI Story Assistant https://storyassistant.familysearch.org A free tool that helps you turn facts and memories into simple story drafts. Great for beginners!
Whisper by OpenAI https://github.com/openai/whisper An open-source speech-to-text tool that can help you transcribe family recordings—whether it’s Grandpa telling stories or your own cassette archive.
Transkribus https://readcoop.eu/transkribus A helpful tool for deciphering and transcribing handwritten documents—perfect for those old family letters.
Amy Johnson Crow’s 52 Ancestors Challenge https://www.amyjohnsoncrow.com/52-ancestors-in-52-weeks This ongoing challenge offers weekly prompts to help keep your genealogy writing on track. AI fits in perfectly as your assistant.
52 AI Ancestors in 52 Weeks: Week 48: Family recipe
Introduction
When my parents split up, I lived with my maternal grandparents for a year and a half. I have many fond memories of Grandma cooking and can happily tell you stories of shrimp cocktail, salmon patties, veal cutlets, and more. (Do you? When I visited an Amish restaurant while consulting one day, it felt almost like I was back at Grandma’s. She wasn’t Amish, but the homestyle cooking evoked good bits of my childhood.) But my very favorite of Grandma’s recipes was the only salad I really enjoy.
Discussion
Grandma (Edith Lillian MAKEY WEST 1913-1997) was a New York City girl for about 60 years. She married an Ohio boy who had come to the city looking for opportunity, and his family embraced her. They spent part of their honeymoon at Niagara Falls (very popular back then), and part in Grandpa’s hometown. They are buried together in that hometown now.
Grandpa’s family clearly shared a recipe with Grandma when they were there. Grandma was well-known for her “5-cup Ohio salad,” which when I was a girl was just an amazing treat.
5-cup Ohio salad
Ingredients
1 cup drained mandarin oranges
1 cup drained pineapple cubes
1 cup mini marshmallows (Grandma noted that the multicolored ones were nice)
1 cup shredded coconut
1 cup sour cream
Directions
Mix and chill.
What we loved most was how simple it was.
When I was an adult, I learned it was a popular recipe everywhere and Ohio had no particular claim on it. But it makes it no less special to me.
How AI can help
If you are lucky enough to be the recipient of some passed down recipes, you may find ingredients a challenge! My beloved Aunt Cheryl (daughter in law of Grandma above) shared her unbelievable chocolate chip cookie recipe with me and it called for Oleo. Oleo?! Let’s pretend we know what that is, how do we even get it?
This can be solved with a Google search, but an AI ask gives much better details:
And presto! Aunt Cheryl has some competition! 😊
Challenge for Readers
Find a recipe that has been handed down – it can be in your family, or a neighbor (my neighbor Pat gave me an Irish soda bread recipe that her mother cut from a newspaper, and I make it every St. Patrick’s Day – it’s the favorite of everyone who tries it), or from a church or school recipe book (remember them? Often the recipes were accompanied by memories or other personal touches, so do not neglect the treasure).
Let the memories evoke another time.
If there are challenging ingredients, or temperatures, or tasks, ask AI about them!
Curious cooks and curious cousins both welcome.
Next Week’s Topic: “Written”
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.
52 AI Ancestors in 52 Weeks: Week 47: The Name’s the Same
Introduction
I descend from not one, not two, but five different Nathaniel Brittons – all in a straight line except for one Abraham who clearly didn’t get the memo. On another branch, the Blakes seemed convinced that only two names were worthy of boys: Edward and William. Meanwhile, my Pennsylvania Dutch ancestors preferred naming every male Johan Spiegel. They got creative (sort of) with the middle names.
This week’s theme, “The Name’s the Same,” is a familiar headache for anyone who’s spent time among 18th-century church records or 19th-century census enumerations. Repeating names can turn a straightforward family tree into a knot of mistaken identities.
So how do you avoid merging two different people into one? Or worse, splitting one ancestor into two?
Let’s look at how AI (and a little methodology) can help you keep your people straight.
The Foundation: Using the Genealogical Proof Standard
Before we get to the AI shortcuts, let’s talk about the solid, time-tested process that genealogists have used for decades to separate same-name ancestors. The Genealogical Proof Standard (GPS) gives us an approach for making sound conclusions about who’s who.
1. Conduct Reasonably Exhaustive Research
Don’t stop at the first William Blake you find in the 1850 census. Search multiple record types: vital records, census enumerations, land records, probate documents, church records, tax lists, and military records. Look for records in all locations where each person might have lived. Cast a wide net.
The goal isn’t to find every possible record—that’s impossible. But you need enough evidence from enough different sources to see clear patterns emerge.
2. Build an Evidence Analysis Table
This is the old-fashioned version of what we’re going to ask AI to do later. Create a table (or spreadsheet) with these columns:
Record Date
Record Type (census, deed, probate, etc.)
Location (county, town, state)
Age / Calculated Birth Year
Spouse Name
Children in Household
Occupation
Associates / Witnesses
Property Description (adjoining landowners)
Each row represents a different record mentioning the name. As you fill it in, look for patterns. Do some records cluster together with consistent spouse names, children’s names, locations, and occupations? Do others diverge with different family members or different geographic patterns? This visual organization helps you see which records belong to which person.
3. Apply the FAN Principle
FAN stands for Family, Associates, and Neighbors. These connections often provide the key to disambiguation:
Family: Who are their parents, siblings, children, and other relatives? If two Williams both have fathers named Edward and brothers named Thomas, you might be looking at the same person.
Associates: Who witnessed their legal documents? Who served as executors of their estates? Who were the godparents of their children? These repeated names across different record types can help you track the right person.
Neighbors: Who lived next door in census records? Who owned adjoining land in property descriptions? If William Blake consistently appears near the same families across multiple census years, and those same families show up as his neighbors in land records, you’re building a strong case for identity.
4. Look for Unique Identifiers
Some clues are particularly valuable for separating same-name ancestors:
Middle names or initials: Even just a middle initial can distinguish William A. Blake from William T. Blake.
Occupation consistency: If your William is listed as a carpenter in 1850, a carpenter in 1860, and a carpenter in 1870, that’s a strong pattern. Another William who’s a farmer is probably a different person.
Land descriptions: Property records often identify adjoining landowners. If William Blake’s land is described as bordering Thomas Smith’s property in multiple transactions, and you see Thomas Smith witnessing William’s will, you’re building a reliable network.
Migration patterns: Track geographic movement over time. Did your William move from Vermont to Ohio around 1830? That migration path, combined with other evidence, helps separate him from the William who stayed in Vermont his entire life.
Military service: Pension records, muster rolls, and military service records often include unique details like unit numbers, service dates, and physical descriptions that can definitively separate two men with the same name.
5. Resolve Conflicting Evidence
Not every piece of evidence will fit perfectly. Ages are often inconsistent across records. Locations might vary slightly. The question is: given all the evidence you’ve collected, which interpretation makes the most sense?
For example, if a William Blake appears in Vermont in 1850 aged 48, and again in 1860 aged 62, you have a 12-year gap versus a 10-year gap between censuses. But if both records show the same wife name, the same children with appropriate age progression, and the same occupation, the weight of evidence suggests it’s the same person and the enumerator probably estimated his age in one or both censuses.
Document your reasoning. When you conclude that two records refer to the same person (or different people), write out why. This forces you to think critically about the evidence and creates a record you can revisit if new information emerges.
Why This Matters
The Genealogical Proof Standard isn’t just academic busywork. It’s the foundation that keeps us from making costly mistakes—like merging two different people into one ancestor or splitting a single person’s life into multiple individuals. It ensures our family trees are built on solid evidence rather than hopeful assumptions.
Now, here’s where it gets interesting: this methodical approach takes time. Hours of it. AI tools can help speed up some of these steps while still maintaining the GPS. Let’s see how.
How AI Can Help Untangle Same-Name Ancestors
When the names repeat, the questions matter more than the names. Here are some ways free AI tools can help you sort out who’s who:
1. Compare and Contrast Timelines
Use ChatGPT or another AI tool to build side-by-side timelines for two individuals with the same name.
Try this prompt:
“Create separate timelines for two men named William Blake. One was born in 1795 and lived in Ohio; the other in 1802 and stayed in Vermont. Use these facts…”
AI can help flag inconsistencies, overlaps, and gaps that might suggest you’re dealing with different people, or maybe one person living a much busier life than expected.
2. Summarize Long Records for Clues
Have a land deed or probate document with a name but no clear identity? Paste it into a tool like ChatGPT and ask:
“Can you list the locations, relationships, and key details in this document?”
This quick summary can help distinguish one Edward from another, especially if they had different professions or owned land in different counties.
3. Middle Name Pattern Recognition
In those Johan-heavy lines, middle names were often more than decorative: they were identifiers. Feed a list of male Spiegel names into an AI and ask:
“Which middle names were repeated across generations?”
This might reveal naming patterns tied to specific branches or generations.
Sample disambiguation table
Here’s a sample comparison table showing two fictitious men named Nathaniel Britton. It demonstrates how details (identifiers) like birthplace, spouse, military service, and burial location can help clearly separate individuals with the same name.
Identifier
Nathaniel Britton A
Nathaniel Britton B
Full Name
Nathaniel Britton
Nathaniel Britton
Year of Birth
1765
1768
Place of Birth
Staten Island, New York
Monmouth County, New Jersey
Spouse’s Name
Sarah Moore
Mary Johnson
Children’s Names
John, Elizabeth, Abraham
Samuel, Anna, Nathaniel Jr.
Occupation
Blacksmith
Farmer
Military Service Details
Served in local militia, 1781
Revolutionary War service, 1780-1783, NJ Line
Census Residence(s)
Richmond County, NY (1790 – 1820)
Monmouth County, NJ (1790 – 1810), moved to Ohio by 1820
Land/Property Descriptions
Owned land near Richmond Church
Purchased land west of Zanesville, OH
Middle Name or Initial
No middle name used in records
Middle initial ‘T’ in 1805 deed
Religious Affiliation
Dutch Reformed Church
Baptist
Associates/Witnesses in Legal Records
Witnessed by Peter Moore, neighbor
Witnessed by Joseph Johnson, brother-in-law
Migration Path
Remained in New York entire life
From NJ to Ohio after 1810
Neighbors in Census
Next to Moore family on 1810 census
Neighbor to Thomas White in 1820 census
Burial Location
Buried in St. Andrew’s Churchyard, Staten Island
Buried in family plot near Zanesville, Ohio
Challenge for Readers: Try It Yourself
Here are two exercises to sharpen your same-name detection skills:
Challenge 1: Disambiguate Your Double Pick a same-name pair from your tree and feed their facts into an AI tool like ChatGPT. Ask it to highlight the differences and possible overlaps. What stands out?
Challenge 2: Build a “Name Collision” Table Create a table with columns for Name, Birth Year, Spouse, Location, Occupation, and Key Records. Use it to separate, or connect, those tangled ancestors.
Bonus: Use a spreadsheet or AI-generated table to visualize where paths cross or diverge.
Want to Learn More?
If you’re interested in how AI tools can help with family history research, check out:
My grandfather, Edward Joseph Anderson (1912-1985), was a small child when World War I broke out. My father told me that Grandpa always felt he had an education gap about the war, due to the timing. He was too young when the events were current to really know what was happening, but the war had not yet been added to the curriculum at school.
Grandpa, according to Dad, sought out books about the war to help him to understand more about it. I’m sure he knew many, many people affected by it.
Maybe that curiosity never left him. He lived through the sound of distant news and ration talk he couldn’t quite grasp, and spent the rest of his life filling in what those childhood memories left unsaid.
That curiosity must run in the family. As a genealogist, I find myself chasing the same questions Grandpa did: trying to understand how war shaped the lives of people who lived in its shadow. His books led him to the battlefields of Europe; my search led me to the stories of our own family during wartime.
Discussion
Grandpa wasn’t the only one shaped by war, even from a distance. Once I started exploring our family’s wartime stories, I realized that every generation had its own version of it.
There were those who registered but never served, those who built ships and newspapers and families while the world was breaking apart, and those who were too young to know why the adults whispered at night. Each carried a piece of the story, whether they realized it or not.
It turns out, wartime isn’t just about those who fight – it’s also about those who remember, imagine, and try to make sense of what they lived through. Discovering those stories isn’t always straightforward. Records can be scarce or scattered, but even fragments can lead somewhere.
How AI can help
These stories aren’t always easy to find. Military records can be confusing, incomplete, or hidden behind unfamiliar names – but that’s where a bit of modern help can make all the difference.
Some ideas:
Many draft registration lists are now online.
Newspapers frequently printed the list of draftees (and newspapers are going online)
Censuses often show us those who served (extra shoutout to the 1865 New York State census!)
Censuses also show us occupations, which may be war-related ones
Family ephemera may include this type of memento, such as when my grandmother showed me my baby father’s ration books
Ask AI for more ideas – or where to find them. Better yet, tell it what you know. (“My ancestor John Q. Doe, born 1842, lived in Argentine, Kansas during the Civil War. Where might I find records around any military service he may have done?”)
But don’t limit yourself to military service – remember not all those who served carried a gun. Maybe they carried water or provided food.
Or maybe they got shot in the draft riots?
Challenge for Readers
Option 1: Trace a Wartime Shadow
Pick one ancestor who lived during a major war – even if they never served.
What might they have seen, heard, or felt?
Search a newspaper from their hometown during that era and read the local headlines.
Bonus: Ask ChatGPT or another AI tool to describe what life was like on their street in that year.
You may not find a uniform, but you’ll find the echoes.
Option 2: Find Service Between the Lines
Review your family tree and see whose records fall between 1861–65, 1914–18, or 1941–45.
Who was the right age to serve but didn’t?
Can you find a draft registration, ration book, or even a letter?
Use AI to suggest possible record sets or archives for your search; try phrasing it as:
“Where might I find Civil War service records for a 23-year-old farmer in Ohio?”
Sometimes the “almost served” stories are just as revealing.
Option 3: The Home Front Project
Choose one ancestor who supported the war effort in a civilian way; through work, care, or quiet resilience.
What was their occupation during wartime?
Search for how that industry contributed to the war effort.
Then ask AI to summarize what that role might have looked like day to day.
Think of it as writing a tribute to the people who kept the lights on while the world went dark.
Optional Add-On: Reflective Prompt
If your ancestors could tell you how war changed them, what might they say? Try writing a short paragraph, diary entry, or AI-assisted dialogue in their voice.
Want to Learn More?
National Archives – Military Service Records https://www.archives.gov/veterans/military-service-records Request copies of World War I and II draft cards, enlistment papers, or service records. You can also explore state-level archives for older conflicts.
Fold3 (Ancestry) https://www.fold3.com Digitized military records, photos, and unit histories. Look for regimental pages to understand where and when your ancestor might have served.
Newspapers.com or Chronicling America https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov Historic newspapers often printed lists of draftees, letters from soldiers, or wartime updates from hometowns.
WWI Draft Registration Database – National Archives Catalog https://catalog.archives.gov/id/641776 Search for men born between 1873 and 1900 who registered for the Great War, even if they were never called up.
AI Prompts for Wartime Research Ask ChatGPT or a similar tool:
“What military units were based near [ancestor’s hometown] in [year]?”
“List possible civilian roles in [industry or location] during WWII.”
“Summarize how [occupation] supported the war effort.”
My grandfather filled his understanding of war with books. I’ve tried to fill mine with stories—his, and those of the family who came before him. In both cases, the search is what keeps memory alive.
Next Week’s Topic: “The Name’s the Same”
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.
My ancestor Charlotte DuShannon West had multiple birthdays.
Discussion
The family stories on my WEST line generally proved out, time and again. So, I can enter into this with high confidence.
The family said that Charlotte DuShannon was orphaned “around age 3,” and they (officials? the orphanage? Oh the questions I should have asked!) didn’t know her birthday, so they chose Christmas.
Lottie’s tombstone has an 1867 birth, and her death certificate has a death on April 10, 1922 at age 54/3/15, calculating to December 26, 1867. So the family had, indeed, pinned her birth at Christmas 1867.
Figure 1 Charlotte DuShannon West, 1866-1922
But when was she actually born? I wasn’t sure I’d ever find her real birth date—but then I stumbled onto a tool that opened a whole new world: the Family History Center (now FamilySearch center) and its microfilm ordering.
Lo and behold: Bridgeport, Connecticut had her birth recorded:
Very clearly on May 14, 1866.
To the same parents I found her with (age 3) in the 1870 census.
Great-grandma Lottie now has her true birthday.
How AI can help
AI can’t rewrite the past—but it can help us recognize patterns, surface forgotten records, and challenge long-held assumptions.
In Lottie’s case, AI tools can:
Surface hidden records: Language models can help generate search strategies to uncover early-life records, especially in unfamiliar places or when names vary slightly. For instance, suggesting that a “Charlotte Dushannon” born in Connecticut in 1866 might appear under “Shannon,” “Duchennan,” or “Chanon.”
Check the math: AI and genealogy apps can cross-check reported death ages and calculate likely birth years automatically—especially when the age-at-death is written as years/months/days.
Fill narrative gaps: Story generators like ChatGPT can simulate possible journal entries or “what it was like” vignettes of life in an orphanage in the 1870s, giving context to records that lack detail.
Create timelines: Use AI-assisted timelines to reconcile census entries, birth records, and tombstones, highlighting discrepancies like Lottie’s multiple birthdays.
Lottie’s birth wasn’t celebrated on her actual birthday during her lifetime, but with the help of research and modern tools, we can give her story a more complete arc.
Summary
There’s something quietly heartbreaking about not knowing your own birthday. No candles. No certainty. No story behind the date, just a placeholder.
For Lottie, the family chose Christmas. A beautiful guess, full of warmth and meaning. But it wasn’t hers.
Thanks to one lonely line in a birth register, we now know the truth: she was born on a spring day in May.
And somehow, after all this time, that feels worth celebrating.
Challenge for Readers
Option 1: The Birthday Audit
Check your family tree for ancestors with:
Conflicting birthdates across records (e.g., tombstones vs. census vs. certificates)
“Estimated” birth years based on age at death
👉 Use a date calculator tool or AI to double-check the math. Post about your findings – did anyone else get a holiday birthday as a placeholder?
Option 2: Find the Forgotten Birthday
Pick one ancestor with no known birthdate and challenge yourself to:
Search at least 3 record types that might include it (census, church, delayed birth certs, military draft cards, etc.)
Use AI to generate alternative search spellings or suggest overlooked sources
Bonus: Let ChatGPT write a hypothetical birthday scene based on what you do know about their childhood.
Option 3: The Mystery Birthday Prompt
Ask ChatGPT:
“Write a fictional diary entry from a woman in 1922 who has just discovered that the birthday she’s celebrated her whole life is wrong.”
Post or reflect on what that might have felt like—for her, or for one of your ancestors.
Check calculated birthdates from death ages (like 54 years, 3 months, 15 days).
ChatGPT Genealogy Prompts Try asking:
“What name variants might I search for Charlotte DuShannon in 1860s Connecticut?” “Simulate a diary entry for a 3-year-old girl entering an orphanage in 1870 Connecticut.”
The Organist from Liberty Center: A Rural Life Worth Recreating (With a Little Help From AI)
Some ancestors are loud. They leave behind war records, dramatic migrations, or juicy newspaper clippings. Others, like A. Gordon West, a linotype operator from tiny Liberty Center, Ohio, make their mark in quieter ways. But quiet doesn’t mean unimportant.
Gordon’s life, filled with music, roses, typefaces, and the occasional practical joke, offers a beautiful glimpse into rural America during the rise of the 20th century. And with today’s tools, we don’t need a time machine to visit his world. Artificial Intelligence (AI) can help us recreate and explore rural lives like Gordon’s in ways his generation couldn’t have imagined.
Let’s see what we can learn from a small-town organist who pressed letters into lead by day and grew tomatoes by twilight.
Gordon West was born in 1907 in Liberty Center, Ohio, the youngest child of Adam and Charlotte (DuShannon) West. His mother was 40 when she had him, and he was very much the “surprise baby.”
As a young man, Gordon played the organ for silent movies; a job that required timing, musical improvisation, and the ability to work in total darkness except for the flicker of the screen. He shifted gears after “talkies” replaced silent films and the Great Depression hit full-on, becoming a linotype operator at the Staten Island Advance newspaper.
Imagine the jolt of going from a Liberty Center of 748 people to a city of nearly 7 million people, and living there for 40 years.
After retirement, he moved to upstate New York, growing roses and tomatoes, playing the organ for his granddaughters, and slipping jokes into everyday moments. His life was rural, yes; but rich, rhythmic, and full of character.
Recreating Rural Lives with AI
Let’s say you want to bring Gordon’s world to life for a blog post, family gathering, or research journal. AI offers tools to fill in the sensory gaps and imagine the life behind the records. Here are a few ideas:
🧠 1. Rebuild a Scene with AI Art
Using image generators (like DALL·E, Bing Image Creator, Leonardo.ai (I recently used ChatGPT to create a prompt for Leonardo – big success), or Midjourney), you could describe Gordon’s world and get a visual to share:
Prompt: “A small-town movie theater in 1927 with a man playing a pipe organ, children watching silently, flickering film projection, Liberty Center, Ohio.”
You can generate what his work looked like, or the family garden in bloom – right down to those roses and tomatoes.
🗞️ 2. Simulate a Newspaper Page
Use AI text tools (like ChatGPT or Sudowrite) to help you generate a mock Staten Island Advance page from the 1950s, maybe even one that mentions Gordon’s role in the print room. Combine this with templates from historical newspapers to bring it to life.
🎹 3. Create a Soundtrack to His Life
Tools like Soundraw or Mubert let you generate music in different genres and moods. Try crafting a short organ interlude or instrumental that fits a 1920s silent film. Pair it with a photo of Gordon and his organ, and suddenly your ancestor becomes an experience.
Your Challenge: Make Rural Real
If you’re ready to play time traveler, try one (or both) of these challenges using free or freemium tools:
🧪 Challenge 1: Build Gordon’s Garden
Use DALL·E or Bing Image Creator to generate a visual of a Liberty Center backyard with roses, tomatoes, and a retired organist in suspenders. Add this to your genealogy blog or family tree. Let your readers see what he might have seen.
🧪 Challenge 2: Write a Fictional Entry in His Voice
Ask ChatGPT (or another text-based AI) to help you write a short journal entry from Gordon’s point of view:
Prompt: “Write a 100-word diary entry from a retired linotype operator named Gordon West in rural Ohio, talking about growing tomatoes and playing the organ for his grandkids.”
This builds connection. It doesn’t have to be perfect; it just has to be personal.
What We Learn from Lives Like Gordon’s
Genealogy often celebrates the pioneers, the politicians, the rebels. But the rural linotype operator? The silent movie organist? They matter just as much.
Gordon West’s life was ordinary in the best possible way: full of music, work, and love for his family. AI gives us new ways to honor these lives – by imagining their world and sharing it with future generations.
Whether you’re using AI to restore a photo, simulate a voice, or generate a visual of your ancestor’s life, remember this: even the smallest towns hold big stories.
At the recent 22nd Annual Genealogy Lock-in co-sponsored by the Ridgewood Public Library and the Genealogical Society of Bergen County (both New Jersey, USA), I told another attendee that I had three separate SMITH lines (oh joy). But Jason M. Smith (1807 – 1890) of New York City is easier than he might have been, because he (and his children) very consistently recorded his place of birth as Vermont.
What prompted this move?
I found an article mentioning that move at NYS Historic Newspapers, a free online newspapers site focused on New York State where you can filter by county.
“His 80th Anniversary,” Richmond County Advance (Staten Island, NY), 17 Dec 1887, page 4, column 2, As found on nyshistoricnewspapers.org
Discussion
Jason Smith moved when he was just 7, so it wasn’t likely to have been his decision. The early move combined with the mention of an apprenticeship makes me wonder if he didn’t lose a parent at a young age. Another possibility is the War of 1812, since he would have turned 7 in 1814. Or perhaps it was economic conditions.
Nonetheless, Jason clearly “made it” in New York. He married twice and raised several children, all of whom seemed to live reasonably comfortable lives.
At 80, he was called “remarkably well preserved for a man of his advanced age.” Whatever the reason for his move, it was apparently a good thing for him.
Figure 1 ChatGPT’s imagining of Vermont to New York City
How AI can help
I can run my theories past AI as a sounding board:
Me to Google: economic conditions in 1814
Google AI’s response: In 1814, the United States experienced severe economic hardship, characterized by high inflation, a trade – crippling British blockade, and a government drowning in debt from the War of 1812.
Or, which theory makes sense? I ran this blog post through Copilot Researcher and asked it.
Me to Copilot Researcher: Using the attached blog post, what do you think of the three options I mentioned for why he moved? Are there reasonable alternatives I didn’t consider?
Copilot Researcher’s response:
Most plausible: Jason’s move at age 7 was likely due to the loss of a parent. In early 1800s New York, fatherless children were often placed in apprenticeships or sent to live with guardians, especially if the family lacked resources. The mention of an apprenticeship strongly supports this scenario. If his father died around 1814, it would explain both the relocation and Jason’s early entry into city life.
Also plausible:Economic hardship during the War of 1812 – especially the trade blockade and inflation – could have pushed the family to seek better opportunities in New York. The timing aligns with widespread financial strain in Vermont, and urban centers offered more support and work options.
Less likely but possible: If Jason’s father served in the War of 1812 and died or was disabled, that could have triggered the move. However, without direct evidence of military service, this remains speculative.
Other ideas:Family migration, remarriage, or urban job prospects may have played a role, but they’re harder to confirm without more records.
I don’t think Jason’s parents had died, but I am not GPS – level confident (I’m not sure I could meet the Genealogical Proof Standard on that supposition). But, AI can be a great sounding board for my theories, and can provide valuable historical context.
Challenge for Readers
Try this two-part “urban exploration” challenge:
Map It Out – Pick one ancestor who lived in a city or town. Use an online historical map (such as the David Rumsey Map Collection or Sanborn Fire Insurance Maps) to locate their neighborhood. What was nearby – factories, churches, schools, or parks?
Ask AI – Upload a short description of that ancestor’s life to an AI chat tool and ask:
“What might daily life have been like for someone living here around [year]?” Compare the AI’s answer to what you find in city directories, newspapers, or censuses. How close is it?
(And for extra credit: see if AI can find connections between your ancestor’s city job and migration patterns of the time!)
AI can suggest possible scenarios, but remember it doesn’t replace checking probate or church records.
David Rumsey Map Collection:davidrumsey.com – high – resolution maps for historical city research.
Jason’s story reminds us that even a childhood move two centuries ago can echo through generations – and with a little AI help, we can listen more closely.
Next Week’s Topic: “Rural”
AI Disclosure
This post was created by me with the help of AI tools. While AI helps sort out research, the storytelling and discoveries are my own.
Most of us hope to find old photos, love letters, or maybe a land deed in our genealogy research. I found a fire.
It came by way of a newsletter from the now-defunct Henry County Genealogical Society. Inside was a reprinted clipping from the Democratic Northwest and Henry County News, and there, under the quiet clatter of the surname “West,” was a fiery surprise. A few page flips later, I had the full story. And sure enough, there was my ancestor, J[ohn] T. West, listed in the aftermath of a town-wide disaster.
Discussion
On Sunday morning, May 26, 1889, a fire broke out at 2 a.m. in the oil room of Viers’ hardware store in Liberty Center, Ohio. It spread fast. In the words of the article:
“Seven buildings with most of their contents were licked up by the fierce flames.”
John T. West owned the stable across the alley from the hardware store, and it didn’t stand a chance. The flames jumped to his property almost immediately. By the end, the fire had consumed:
Two stables (including West’s)
A residence
A barber shop
A saloon
A meat market
A large ice house
The community fought the blaze valiantly, but with no functional fire engine – locked away due to a legal dispute with the town council – there was only so much they could do.
John T. West’s stable was insured for just $100. In today’s dollars? Still not enough.
How AI Can Help
Once I had the article, I was curious about the broader picture. Could AI help me:
Understand the historical value of $100 in 1889?
Reconstruct what a livery stable might have looked like?
Locate other fires in Liberty Center’s past?
It turns out, yes.
I asked ChatGPT to help me estimate the 1889-to-modern equivalent. It also described the typical use of a stable in a rural Ohio town at the time: transportation hub, business asset, sometimes even housing for boarders or deliveries.
The most helpful prompt I used:
“In 1889, if a livery stable was insured for $100, what would that cover, and what might the true loss have been?”
The answer wasn’t exact (and shouldn’t be taken as legal advice), but it painted a richer picture than I could’ve imagined. A stable wasn’t just a building; it was a livelihood. Which means the West family didn’t just lose lumber and nails. They lost income.
Challenge for Readers
Have you ever found your ancestor in a newspaper article – burning barn, flood, blizzard, or scandal?
Try this:
Search local newspaper indexes or newsletters for your ancestor’s surname + town.
Ask an AI tool: “What disasters happened in [town] between [year] and [year]?”
Use AI to recreate a scene: “Describe what a town fire in 1889 would have looked like.”
And if your ancestor lived through a town-wide disaster, try mapping their recovery. Did they move? Rebuild? Disappear from the record?
Sometimes, it’s the smoke that shows us where to dig.
🧭 Summary
Thanks to one local newspaper and a dedicated genealogical newsletter, I discovered my ancestor wasn’t just living in Liberty Center: he was living through literal fire. AI helped me understand the scale of the loss and place the event in context. The past doesn’t always come quietly. Sometimes, it burns.
A canal boat from Philly to northwest Ohio: fact or fiction?
Introduction
Sometimes we are lucky enough that a family story is passed down: my grandfather’s sister Lydia Coral West did family history work and my uncle Alan G West wrote up her facts. Part of the writeup states that John Thomas WEST and his wife Patience P. SPIEGLE moved [from Philadelphia] to northwestern Ohio “by canal boat”:
How can we research the veracity and details of these stories?
Discussion
I have studied maps and am not clear how a canal boat could be used to go from Philadelphia to northwestern Ohio. Google search helped me, though.
Pennsylvania: Pennsylvania had a complex canal system in the 19th century, and it was entirely possible to travel from Philadelphia to Lake Erie via water and some portage.
Ohio: First, to locate the target location. The story says they landed in “Damascus, in north western Ohio.” But Damascus Ohio is landlocked in eastern Ohio. However, a further Google search informs us of “a former town called Old Damascus in Northwest Ohio that was replaced by a new bridge over the Maumee River.” My grandfather grew up around the Maumee River, so now I know we are talking. But later searches showed me a better candidate – Damascus, in Henry County, just across the Maumee from what was or would become Liberty Center, where three generations of my ancestors lived.
Between the canals that these two states had to offer, it is clear that the trip was entirely possible. Every fact in that particular written history has proven true so far, and this follows the pattern. (Don’t get me started about my OTHER side, where I was able to DISPROVE everything I was told…)
How AI can help
I chose Gemini because it surely can call upon Google maps and Google searches for an assist here.
Can you tell me how my ancestors might have traveled from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania to Damascus, Henry County, Ohio, via canal boat in 1858?
(Kindly note that this was a refined prompt, not my first one, and know that “few-shot prompting” is a valuable tool in the toolbox. You should rarely take the first answer.) What I received was absolutely fascinating:
The journey from Philadelphia to Damascus, Henry County, Ohio, via canal boat in 1858 would have been a long, multi-system voyage that crossed the entire width of Pennsylvania and traversed nearly the full length of the Ohio canal network.
By 1858, the “golden age” of canals was over, and the state-owned canals in Pennsylvania had just been sold to private interests. However, canal boat travel, especially for moving household goods and for travelers with limited funds, was still an option.
Here is the most plausible canal boat route your ancestors would have taken:
Phase 1: Across Pennsylvania (Philadelphia to Pittsburgh)
The first challenge was crossing the Appalachian Mountains. This required a mixed-mode transportation system known as the Pennsylvania Main Line of Public Works, which was a series of canals and railroads designed to link Philadelphia to the Ohio River at Pittsburgh.
Philadelphia to Columbia, PA: They would have started by taking the Philadelphia and Columbia Railroad (a steam-powered railway) about 80 miles west from Philadelphia. By the 1850s, the railroad had generally replaced the earlier canal sections near the city for passenger travel.
Columbia to Hollidaysburg, PA: From Columbia, they would switch to a canal boat on the Eastern Division of the Pennsylvania Canal, traveling up the Susquehanna and Juniata Rivers to Hollidaysburg.
The Allegheny Portage Railroad: At Hollidaysburg, the boat or its cargo would be transferred onto special flatbed railcars to be hauled over the Allegheny Mountains to Johnstown, PA. This was a 36-mile incline plane and railroad system that served as the necessary land bridge.
Johnstown to Pittsburgh, PA: Once on the western side, they would re-enter the water via the Western Division of the Pennsylvania Canal and float down the Conemaugh and Kiskiminetas Rivers to the terminus in Pittsburgh on the Ohio River.
Phase 2: Connecting to the Ohio Canal System (Pittsburgh to Akron/Cleveland)
At Pittsburgh, they would need to find a connection to the canals leading into Ohio.
Pittsburgh to New Castle, PA: They would take a boat north up the Beaver Division of the Pennsylvania Canal to reach New Castle, Pennsylvania.
New Castle to Akron, OH: Here, they would transfer onto the Pennsylvania and Ohio (P & O) Canal (also known as the “Cross-Cut” Canal). This canal ran 82 miles and connected New Castle to Akron, Ohio.
Phase 3: Across Ohio (Akron to Damascus, Henry County)
Akron served as the hub of the Ohio canal system, connecting the P & O Canal to the major north-south artery: the Ohio and Erie Canal.
Akron to Toledo, OH: Your ancestors would board a boat on the Ohio and Erie Canal and travel north toward Lake Erie to the city of Toledo.
Toledo to Damascus, Henry County: In Toledo, the Ohio and Erie Canal merged with the Miami and Erie Canal. They would change boats onto the Miami and Erie Canal to travel southwest toward their destination.
Damascus is located in Henry County, situated directly on the Miami and Erie Canal, near the town of Napoleon, Ohio. The boat would pass through or near the town of Junction, Ohio, where the canal system was connected to the Wabash and Erie Canal.
Their canal boat journey would end when they disembarked at the closest landing point to Damascus, likely at a canal town like Napoleon or another landing in Henry County.
The Journey Experience and Duration
This route was a major undertaking, likely covering over 600 miles and involving multiple boat changes, a railroad section, and many locks.
Pace: Canal boats, pulled by mules on the towpath, averaged a slow but steady pace of about 4 miles per hour, moving approximately 30 to 40 miles per day.
Total Time: Factoring in the delays for transferring to the Portage Railroad, waiting for boat transfers, and navigating hundreds of locks, the complete journey would have taken a minimum of 3 to 4 weeks.
1858 Context: By this time, railroads were faster and were heavily competing with (and replacing) the canals. While the canal route was still operating and was cheaper, your ancestors may have faced delays due to deteriorating infrastructure or chosen to use faster, parallel railroad lines for certain segments, especially across Pennsylvania, to shorten the overall travel time.
Can you create a map of this route?
The result was a little disappointing, but further prompting revealed that Gemini could not create a historical map, which makes sense, and it could not sufficiently interact with an existing historical map in order to mark it up for me.
Knowing that a young couple with two young children made this arduous journey gives me a healthy respect for what people will do for opportunity.
Tracing this journey showed me that what seemed like family folklore was entirely plausible, with stops, transfers, and towpaths all lining up. A young family could have realistically made the canal-heavy trek from Philadelphia to northwest Ohio in the late 1850s, likely taking several weeks. AI didn’t replace the research; it simply helped me ask better questions and find new leads. What began as a passing reference in a family write-up became a full-fledged route through history.
Challenge for Readers
Think about the water in your ancestors’ lives.
Did they work on rivers, canals, or ships?
Did they settle near lakes or ports?
Can you trace their movements using historic waterways or maps?
Try plugging one ancestor’s location and time period into an AI tool like ChatGPT or Gemini with a question like: “How could someone have traveled from [Location A] to [Location B] in [Year] using canals, rivers, or railroads?” Then see what splashes up!
Bonus: If a story in your family lore involves water (a flood, a sea voyage, a ferry, etc.), investigate it. Was it possible? What would it have felt like?
Have you ever traced an ancestor’s route? I’d love to hear how your research flowed.
Try AI tools like ChatGPT or Gemini to “roleplay” as 19th-century travel assistants! Prompt them with: “Pretend you are a canal boat captain in 1858. How would you get a family from Philadelphia to Henry County, Ohio?”
Next Week’s Topic: “Fire”
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.
Even experienced genealogists get it wrong sometimes. Here’s a quick story and a simple tip for cemetery lookups.
Discussion
Some years ago, I wanted to request a photo on Find A Grave of my husband’s great grandparents’ grave.
I was quite pleased to have located death records for them with the cemetery identified, and created memorials so I could ask for photos. I created a Joseph Frank memorial and one for his wife Jennie Felder or Feldeloss in 2011. They were buried in the same cemetery in different sections.
Joseph’s photo was added the following year, but Jennie’s just languished. I couldn’t figure out why, but went on with other things.
Perhaps you’ve already spotted my error. In 2020, a kind genealogist located Jennie Frank, and uploaded the photo. Oops. As a genealogist, I only thought of her under her maiden name, but she was buried under her married name. That must have been one dogged photographer, and I am so grateful to that volunteer.
How AI can help
My mistake with Jennie sat for years because I didn’t circle back to unfinished requests. Today, AI tools can nudge us when something looks unfinished. For example:
Name Variations: AI can spot common errors like using a maiden name instead of a married name. Upload your records, and an AI assistant can suggest alternative searches you might have overlooked.
Research Reminders: Instead of forgetting a stalled request, you could ask AI to keep a “research to-do” list. It can summarize what’s pending, flag what hasn’t been wrapped up, and even generate reminders to check back on memorial sites or archives. (Side note: AI even reminds me weekly to report on my foster cats!)
The goal isn’t to let AI “do the genealogy” for us, but to use it as a second set of eyes: a patient research buddy who notices what we miss when our attention drifts elsewhere.
Challenge for Readers
Try one (or both) of these experiments with free AI tools:
Name Variations Test: Take a record from your own research where you’ve been stuck. Ask an AI tool (like ChatGPT or Claude) this: “Suggest possible alternative names or spellings for [insert ancestor’s name], including nicknames, misspellings, or married names, that might appear in records.” See if it sparks a new search idea.
Research To-Do List: Paste in a short list of your current “incomplete tasks” (like pending Find A Grave photo requests, document orders, or unanswered emails). Ask: “Turn this list into a simple research reminder I can check weekly.” Bonus: Have it format the list as a timeline or checklist to keep things moving.
Next Week’s Topic: “Water”
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.
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