Wordless Wednesday: Documentation 1

Group Photos: Wedding Belles

There's nothing more exciting/confusing than a group photo from another generation!

For example: I have a wedding photo of my paternal grandmother's first cousin. It's easy to figure out who the bride is. With a little thinking one can sort out the groom. Okay, so what about all those other folks?


McCully-Geist Wedding
St. Louis, MO
1911

Uncle Bill during his first year, up front. The happy couple second row right. My grandparents, parents of Uncle Bill, third row from left #5 and #6. My grandfather has his eyes closed.

Fortunately for me, I recognized my very young grandmother and grandfather. I later learned that the baby in front was their new first baby, my Uncle Bill.

Assuming that most of the others had the last name McCully, I rooted around in materials left to me by Uncle Bill's little sister. Praise folks who worked in offices! She not only had a list of attendees but of where in the picture these folks appear. Typed.

Typed information is a gift from heaven. My mother left me a nice album of tintypes with hand-written names. Now was that Foust or Forest?

Sometimes you find a group picture where you know who is there but not who is who. For example, I have a photo of two of that grandfather's maternal uncles standing in front of a pillar in Paris, but I don't know which is who!

The worst is having no idea who that person is in that perfect picture. One can only assume, and therein lies great goof-up potential. And then there's the mystery pic with no connection to anyone you know about. I have one of those, found stuck behind a picture of my father's paternal grandmother. Nobody else in that line knows who the guy is, either.

Where to start???

I began my genealogical snooping with lots of information, if only I would use it.

My mother had left me a photo album, two, actually. One was of her immediate family. One was of her mother's ancestors. Then there were a few photos from my father's family. She even walked me through this morass when I was 14. Of course I was bored stiff.

All those opportunities lost. Or ...

That's right! I knew where it all was. So when finally the bug bit, I had info galore!

So then what to do with it? Make a special corner in the tv room and buy a family history application. Easily done, since only one is specially made for Mac. :)

Then I had to learn to footnote. Oh, I could do it on a term paper, but the genealogical world is full of blarney, even from Scots! We humans accept too much on faith, and facts REQUIRE verification.

Example: Where did that factoid come from? Um, my mom's photo album. But the good folk at the historical society in that ancestor's town say the name was Forest, not Foust as written in album. Hmmm.

So that's how I learned that factoids must be backed up by a second witness. Just like in the Jewish law: If you can't justify it in two different places, BEWARE. (At least don't stone anyone.)

This little problem made for some brick walls a lot closer to present time than I'd expected, but then maybe, just maybe, checking out those "forest, not foust" walls have saved me a lot of wasted time snooping through wrong, though very interesting, roots.