To Index or Not to Index- to borrow a phrase

Okay, you say what is the fuss? Maybe you are thinking to yourself, what a daunting task indexing the 1940 census is.

The fuss, genealogical speaking, is that we will shortly have a look into our own grandparents and parents lives. The 1930 was awesome, but the 1940 census enumerated 18 yrs before I was born (you really don’t have to bother to do the math !), it will capture both of my parents and  my grandparents and a few of my great grandparents.

Daunting task, sure if one person does the indexing or even 100 would be indexing the census. The more folks we get to index the less time it will take to get the thing indexed! Is it hard, in one word NO. There is a wonderful program that you will install, if anyone has worked with the program called Transcript it is very much the same. The census page will show up in the upper part of the screen and on the lower will be the areas for you to fill in. Probably the only difficulty you might run into is either bad image  or hand writing that is hard to read. The writing should be somewhat easier to read as it is closer to the cursive that we learned in school.

I would urge you to visit the U.S 1940 Census Community Project and sign up to index. After you sign up and download the program you will find a practice 1940 census that you can try. I have indexed for a while and the great part is you go at your own speed and they don’t hound you about what you have or have not accomplished! Do you have five minutes a day! Perfect, 2 hours wonderful! Just take a few and help out.

After you have done the run through of the 1940 sample there is a contest that you can enter at U.S 1940 Census Community Project information is found here.

Who will you find in the 1940 Census!

Happy Hunting!

As part of ambassador program this blog post enters me into a drawing for a Kindle Fire

Surname Saturday/A Wee bit o’ Irish on St. Patrick’s Day

Long ago and far away. Lived a young man named Michael and himself  born in Northern Ireland about 1710.

When himself ventured to this country fair and left the Isle of Green it is not sure, but we find Michael and his clan in Allentown (Craig’s Settlement) PA as early as 1747. On Find A Grave we find himself buried at the Presbyterian Cemetery Northampton, Northampton County Pennsylvania, USA. Michael and Bridget are both buried in that cemetery.

Himself is found in THE HISTORY OF BUCKS COUNTY, PENNSYLVANIA, CHAPTER XXXVII, SMITHFIELD; Allen; MOUNT BETHEL; MOORE; EASTON; 1746 TO 1750from the discovery of the Delaware to the present time by W. W. H. Davis, A.M., 1876 and 1905* editions

The Scotch-Irish settlers in Allen moved in favor of forming the  township in 1746. Jonathan [John*] McCartney, Michael Clide and many others including the Craig’s are listed as signers to prove this settlement. John and Michael  I believe are two of my grandfathers.  I am descended from Michael twice.  Himself and Bridget are my 6th great grandparents. My fourth grandparents are if everything is correct,  first cousins.

Descendants of Michael /Clyde/
1-Michael /Clyde/ b. Abt 1710, Northern Ireland?, d. 7 May 1794, bur. Allen
Township Northampton Co. PA
+Bridget // b. Norhern Ireland?, d. 15 Dec 1786, Allen Township Northampton
Co. PA, par. Unknown and Unknown
2-Margaret /Clyde/
+John /McCartney/ b. Bef 1750, Scotland, d. After 1780, Columbia Co. PA,
par. Unknown and Unknown
3-Isaiah /McCartney/ b. 17 Nov 1776, d. 27 Feb 1847, Salt
Creek Township, Wayne Co., OH, bur. Fredericksburg West Side Cemetery
2-Eliza Clyde //
+James /Hudders/ par. James /Hudders/ and Margaret //
3-Lettice /Hudders/ b. 15 May 1786, Pennsylvania, d. 1 Mar 1864, Salt
Creek Township, Wayne Co., OH, bur. Fredericksburg West Side Cemetery

So my bit of Irish is doubled 😀  I will wear my colors proudly today!

and just a wee bit of Irish to share……..

From Saint Patrick’s Breastplate

Christ be with me
Christ before me
Christ behind me
Christ in me
Christ beneath me
Christ above me
Christ on my right
Christ on my left
Christ where I lie
Christ where I sit
Christ where I arise
Christ in the heart of every man
who thinks of me
Christ in the mouth of every man who speaks of me
Christ in every eye that sees me
Christ in every ear that hears me
Salvation is of the Lord

Happy Hunting!

Those Places Thursday/Southwick House


I am a 10th Great Granddaughter of Lawrence and Cassandra Southwick, through Henry and Mary Southwick Trask.
There is not much more that I really can add to this post.   The picture I believe is the Southwick home The picture is a gift from a friend of mine and sadly I can’t recall who took it.  Why it so important to label thing when you get them, lesson learned! Now to practice it.

Here is The Ballad of Cassandra Southwick and notes:

The Ballad of Cassandra Southwick

by John Greenleaf Whittier

To the God of all sure mercies let my blessing rise to-day,
From the scoffer and the cruel He hath plucked the spoil away;
Yea, He who cooled the furnace around the faithful three,
And tamed the Chaldean lions, hath set His handmaid free!

Last night I saw the sunset melt through my prison bars,
Last night across my damp earth-floor fell the pale gleam of stars;
In the coldness and the darkness all through the long night-time,
My grated casement whitened with autumn’s early rime.

Alone, in that dark sorrow, hour after hour crept by;
Star after star looked palely in and sank adown the sky;
No sound amid night’s stillness, save that which seemed to be
The dull and heavy beating of the pulses of the sea;

All night I sat unsleeping, for I knew that on the morrow
The ruler and the cruel priest would mock me in my sorrow,
Dragged to their place of market, and bargained for and sold,
Like a lamb before the shambles, like a heifer from the fold!

Oh, the weakness of the flesh was there,–the shrinking and the shame;
And the low voice of the Tempter like whispers to me came:
Why sit’st thou thus forlornly,’ the wicked murmur said,
Damp walls they bower of beauty, cold earth they maiden bed?

Where be the smiling faces, and voices soft and sweet,
Seen in thy father’s dwelling, heard in the pleasant street?
Where be the youths who glances, the summer Sabbath through,
Turned tenderly and timidly unto thy father’s pew?

Why sit’st thou here, Cassandra?–Bethink thee with what mirth
Thy happy schoolmates gather around the warm, bright hearth;
How the crimson shadows tremble on foreheads white and fair,
On eyes of merry girlhood, half hid in golden hair.

Not for thee the hearth-fire brightens,
not for thee kind words arespoken,
Not for thee the nuts of Wenham woods by laughing boys are broken;
No first-fruits of the orchard within thy lap are laid,
For thee no flowers of autumn the youthful hunters braid.

O weak, deluded maiden!–by crazy fancies led,
With wild and raving railers an evil path to tread;
To leave a wholesome worship, and teaching pure and sound,
And mate with maniac women, loose-haired and sackcloth bound,–

‘Mad scoffers of the priesthood, who mock at things divine,
Who rail against the pulpit, and holy bread and wine;
Sore from their cart-tail scourgings, and from the pillory lame,
Rejoicing in their wretchedness, and glorying in their shame.

And what a fate awaits thee!–a sadly toiling slave,
Dragging the slowly lengthening chain of bondage to the grave!
Think of they woman’s nature, subdued in hopeless thrall,
The easy prey of any, the scoff and scorn of all!’

Oh, ever as the Tempter spoke, and feeble Nature’s fears
Wrung drop by drop the scalding flow of unavailing tears,
I wrestled down the evil thoughts, and strove in silent prayer,
To feel, O Helper of the weak! that Thou indeed were there!

I thought of Paul and Silas, within Philippi’s cell,
And how from Peter’s sleeping limbs the prison shackles fell,
Till I seemed to hear the trailing of an angel’s robe of white,
And to feel a blessed presence invisible to sight.

Bless the Lord for all his mercies!–for the peace and love I felt,
Like dew of Hermon’s holy hill, upon my spirit melt;
When ‘Get behind me, Satan!’ was the language of my heart,
And I felt the Evil Tempter with all his doubts depart.

Slow broke the gray cold morning; again the sunshine fell,
Flecked with the shade of bar and grate within my lonely cell;
The hoar-frost melted on the wall, and upward from the street
Came careless laugh and idle word, and tread of passing feet.

At length the heavy bolts fell back, my door was open cast,
And slowly at the sheriff’s side, up the long street I passed;
I heard the murmur round me, and felt, but dared not see,
How, from every door and window, the people gazed on me.

And doubt and fear fell on me, shame burned upon my cheek,
Swam earth and sky around me, my trembling limbs grew weak:
‘O Lord! support they handmaid; and from her soul cast out
The fear of man, which brings a snare, the weakness and the doubt.’

Then the dreary shadows scattered, like a cloud in morning’s breeze,
And a low deep voice within me seemed whispering words like these:
Though thy earth be as the iron, and thy heaven a brazen wall,
Trust still His loving-kindness whose power is over all.’

We paused at length, where at my feet the sunlit waters broke
On glaring reach of shining beach, and shining wall of rock;
The merchant-ships lay idly there, in hard clear lines on high,
Tracing with rope and slender spar their network on the sky.

And there were ancient citizens, cloak-wrapped and grave and cold,
And grim and stout sea-captains with faces bronzed and old,
And on his horse, with Rawson, his cruel clerk at hand,
Sat dark and haughty Endicott, the ruler of the land.

And poisoning with his evil words the ruler’s ready ear,
The priest leaned o’er his saddle, with laugh and scoff and jeer;
It stirred my soul, and from my lips the seal of silence broke,
As if through woman’s weakness a warning spirit spoke.

I cried, ‘The Lord rebuke thee, thou smiter of the meek,
Thou robber of the righteous, thou trampler of the weak!
Go light the dark, cold hearth-stones,–go turn the prison lock
Of the poor hearts thou hast hunted, thou wolf amid the flock!’

Dark lowered the brows of Endicott, and with a deeper red
O’er Rawson’s wine-empurpled cheek the flush of anger spread;
Good people,’ quoth the white-lipped priest, ‘heed not her words so
Her Master speaks within her,–the Devil owns his child!’

But gray heads shook, and young brows knit, the while the sheriff read
That law the wicked rulers against the poor have made,
Who to their house of Rimmon and idol priesthood bring
No bended knee of worship, nor gainful offering.

Then to the stout sea-captains the sheriff turning said,–
‘Which of ye, worthy seamen, will take this Quaker maid?
In the Isle of fair Barbadoes, or on Virginia’s shore,
You may hold her at a higher price than Indian girl or Moor.’

Grim and silent stood the captains; and when again he cried,
Speak out, my worth seamen!’–no voice, no sign replied;
But I felt a hard hand press my own, and kind words met my ear,–
God bless thee, and preserve thee, my gentle girl and dear!’

A weight seemed lifted from my heart, a pitying friend was nigh,–
I felt it in his hard, rough hand, and saw it in his eye;
And when again the sheriff spoke, that voice, so kind to me,
Growled back its stormy answer like the roaring of the sea,–

Pile my ship with bars of silver, pack with coins of Spanish gold,
From keel-piece up to deck-plank, the roomage of her hold,
By the living God who made me!–I would sooner in your bay
Sink ship and crew and cargo, than bear this child away!’

Well answered, worthy captain, shame on their cruel laws!’
Ran through the crowd in murmurs loud the people’s just applause.
‘Like the herdsman of Tekoa, in Israel of old,
Shall we see the poor and righteous again for silver sold?’

I looked on haughty Endicott; with weapon half-way drawn,
Swept round the throng his lion glare of bitter hate and scorn;
Fiercely he drew his bridle-rein, and turned in silence back,
And sneering priest and baffled clerk rode murmuring in his track.

Hard after them the sheriff looked, in bitterness of soul;
Thrice smote his staff upon the ground, and crushed his parchment roll.
‘Good friends,’ he said, ‘since both have fled, the ruler and the
Judge ye, if from their further work I be not well released.’

Loud was the cheer which, full and clear, swept round the silent bay,
As, with kind words and kinder looks, he bade me go my way;
For He who turns the courses of the streamlet of the glen,
And the river of great waters, had turned the hearts of men.

Oh, at that hour the very earth seemed changed beneath my eye,
A holier wonder round me rose the blue walls of the sky,
A lovelier light on rock and hill and stream and woodland lay,
And softer lapsed on sunnier sands the waters of the bay.

Thanksgiving to the Lord of life! to Him all praises be,
Who from the hands of evil men hath set his handmaid free;
All praise to Him before whose power the mighty are afraid,
Who takes the crafty in the snare which for the poor is laid!

Sin, O my soul, rejoicingly, on evening’s twilight calm
Uplift the loud thanksgiving, pour forth the grateful psalm;
Let all dear hearts with me rejoice, as did the saints of old,
When of the Lord’s good angel the rescued Peter told.

And weep and howl, ye evil priests and mighty men of wrong,
The Lord shall smite the proud, and lay His hand upon the strong.
Woe to the wicked rulers in His avenging hour!
Woe to the wolves who seek the flocks to raven and devour!

But let the humble ones arise, the poor in heart be glad,
And let the mourning ones again with robes of praise be clad.
For He who cooled the furnace, and smoothed the stormy wave,
And tamed the Chaldean lions, is mighty still to save!



aka The Ballad of Cassandra Southwick

(The following precedes the ballad which is printed in Descendants of Lawrence and Cassandra Southwick by Caller & Ober, on pgs. 79-83. For some reason Whittier chose to use the name of Provided’s mother rather than Provided’s name itself.)

This ballad, by John Greenleaf Whittier, has its foundation upon a somewhat remarkable event in the history of Puritan intolerance.(In 1658) Two young persons, son Daniel and daughter Provided of Lawrence and Cassandra Southwick,
of Salem, who had himself been imprisoned and deprived of all his property
for having entertained two Quakers at his house, were fined ten pounds each for non-attendance at church, which they were unable to pay. The case being represented to the General Court, at Boston, that body issued an order, which may still be seen on the court records, bearing the signature of Edward Rawson, Secretary, by which the Treasurer of the County was”fully enpowered to sell the said persons to any of the English nation at Virginia or Barbadoes, to answer said fines”. An attempt was made to carry this barbarous order into execution, but no shipmaster was found willing to convey them to the West Indies. – Vide Sewall’s History, pp. 225-6, G. Bishop

It is always important to remember “but of the grace of God go I”. God’s grace is for all, not just some and I think in these many happenings, the Church slowly is learning this, or at least I can pray it is.

Happy Hunting!




1940s Transportation, Science & Technology/Willow Run and Rosie

I though long and hard what to present when writing about Transportation and Science and Technology that would be found in 1940. I could have talked about the great vehicles  built in 1940. GM, Ford, Hudson, Nash and many other automobile makers made many improvements to the automobile. Then I thought maybe I’ll write about the improvements in air travel or travel by train.

I settled on the people and not the advances themselves. It takes people, time and effort to bring about these changes. I live in a very diverse technological area.  Just east of Ann Arbor and the University of Michigan, even closer to Eastern Michigan University, both of which have added to learning and teaching. I live but a mile from another important hub in the 1940’s, Willow Run Airport.  You ask me what does Willow Run Airport have to do with anything but transportation? You question would be founded in most cases, but many changes have occurred on this piece of ground straddling the Washtenaw and Wayne Co. border in Michigan. Maybe the most well know use for this property was as a B-24 bomber plant run by the Ford Motor Company. Willow Run was also one of the many plants where young women from all over lower Michigan came to work, known as “Rosie the Riveter” , during WWII and the building of the B-24 bombers. There were two Rosies, but the one used for the propaganda program to encourage husband to spur their wives to take on goverment jobs to help with the war effort and many thousands, worked at Willow Run. According to Wikipedia ,Rosie the Riveter became most closely associated with Rose Will Monroe, Rose was born in 1920 in Pulaski County Kentucky and moved to Michigan during WWII. Rose worked at Willow Run Airport.
This trend in many cases changed the factory work force in the years to come. The women were encouraged to return to their earlier jobs, usually with less pay, or to return home to homemaking after the end of the war. There were those who stayed on at these jobs.

The airport didn’t open until 1942 and Rosie wasn’t Rosie until WWII so these things won’t found in the 1940 Census, but I am sure curious how many of the  women will be found in the Wayne and Washtenaw Counties here in Michigan whose lives in a few short years are changed forever as they “help” with the war effort as working women in the Willow Runs of this country. Their places in the home and “women’s” work force will be found in the 1940 Census.

Who was the Rosie in your family, you can find her in the 1940 census.You can find her yourself by joining the 1940  U.S. Census Community Project today and help to index the 1940 census.

Happy Hunting!

Friday Family History/Happy Birthday William Cabell 9? March 1699

William Cabell was born in Warminister England in March of 1699 to Nicholas and Rachel Hopper Cabell. William was a prominent man in the colony of Virginia to say the very least. William was surveyor, magistrate, farmer, trader, vestryman, churchwarden, and pioneer.

I’ll not go into full detail here, but I will send you  to visit the  Cabell Family Papers, Small Library, University of Va site.  I also need to go back and collect information as well, because I only had dates for William and his parents and nothing else. It was a wonderful find when I plugged in William Cabell Genealogy in google today and got the above site. Other VA  family members could be listed there. After doing some reading, I am sorry I didn’t understand this when my daughter and I visited Jamestown. Maybe another trip is needed!

I will tell you how William fits into my family. His wife Elizabeth Burks (1706-1756) is the sister to Richard Burks who married Frances “Fannie” Horsley. Richard is my husbands 6th and 7th great-grandfather. Looking through just a bit of the genealogy and historical information it seems these three families were fairly close in proximity and in friendship.
Jim’s most direct line of descent from Richard is as follows.

1-Richard Burks b. 1713
+Frances “Fannie” Horsley m. 1739
–2-Rowland Horsley Burks b. Between 1740 and 1745
+Sarah Unknown
–3-David Burks
+Rebecca Duncan
–4-Charles Burks b. 1809, NC, d. 1879, Tackitt/ Longfork Pike Co., KY
+Westina Rice par. James Rice and Sarah
–5-William Burke b. 1831, Pike Co., KY, d. 1916, Pike Co., KY, bur.
Burke Cem., Marshall’s Branch Pike Co., KY
+Lucy Hall b. 1840, KY, m. 4 Mar 1857, d. Abt 1920, KY, bur. Burke
Cem., Marshall’s Branch Pike Co., KY, par. William Hall and
Elizabeth Johnson
–6-James Martin Burke b. 10 Apr 1868, KY, d. 28 Oct 1941, KY
+Susannah Hampton b. 30 Aug 1870, KY, d. 22 Jul 1949, KY, par.
–7-Joseph Burke b. 20 Dec 1895, Hartley, Pike Co., KY, d. 22 June 1974
-8-Lola Burke b.  10 May 1931 Hartley, Pike Co., KY, d. 12 March 2010, Wayne Co. MI
m. Edgar V. Hogston b. 28 July 1930 Lookout, Pike Co. KY d. 20 October 1990, Wayne Co., MI
-9- James E. Hogston m. Julia K. McCartney