twistingtreeancestry

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Volunteer Transcribing or Tagging for the National Archives

Through this article from Smithsonian Magazine, I learned that the National Archives is looking for volunteers² who can assist in transcribing² and tagging⁹ᶜ numerous old documents. Specifically, they'd like help with Revolutionary War Pension Files.

While this may not seem genealogy-related on the surface, helping to make these old documents legible can help scores of genealogists and historians find the information they're looking for. This is no less than what they've done for me so I could locate all the documentation I have now.

Though it would be marvelous to be compensated for our time and skillsets, I hope some fellow family historians will join me in volunteering to help if you're adept at making out 18th to 19th-century handscripts. The Citizen Archivist Dashboard even has this handy page of resources to help you get started.

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Acadian Day (LA)

While this day is to celebrate the resilience, contribution, and culture of Acadians, it's also Native American Heritage Day, so I'd also like to celebrate and thank the Wabanaki Confederacy, specifically the Mi'kmaq, Penobscot, and Wolastoqey Nations.

Without the Mi'kmaq Nation accepting the French colonizers onto their land and extending a hand of peace and teaching, the French would not have easily survived, if at all.

Thanks to the bravery and resistance of the Penobscot and Wolastoqey Nations, some of the Acadians were able to evade capture, deportation, and death. If not for them, there would have been nothing for the returning Acadians to come home to.

Thanks to all of them, the Acadians were able to settle deep roots that would resound through time.

Wela'lin, Mi'kmaq Nation.

Woliwoni, Penobscot Nation.

Woliwon, Wolastoqey Nation.

We owe more than we could ever repay to you.

⋘ ⋙

In honor of my ancestors who came to Nova Scotia from France and those who left Nova Scotia to France or Louisiana.

|| Paternal Grandfather's Father's Line

Charles Olivier Miquel Guillot (1746 Nova Scotia, CA - 1845 Louisiana, USA) and his wife Madeline Josephe [Boudreaux/Boudrot] Guillot (1744 Nova Scotia, CA - N/A).

Charles' father, Jean Baptiste Guillot (1720 Nova Scotia, CA - 1759 Atlantic Ocean).

Jean's mother, Marguerite [Doiron] Guillot (1669 Nova Scotia, CA - 1759 Nova Scotia, CA).

Marguerite's parents, Jean Doiron (1677 Nova Scotia, CA - 1735 Nova Scotia, CA) and Marie Anne [Trahan] Doiron (1671 Nova Scotia, CA - 1710 Nova Scotia, CA).

Mary Anne's parents, Guillaume Trahan (1611 France - 1682 Nova Scotia, CA) and Madeleine [Brun] Trahan (1645 France - 1700 Nova Scotia, CA).

Madeleine's parents, Vincent Brun (1611 France - 1693 Nova Scotia, CA) and Marie Renee [Breau] Brun (1616 France - 1686 Nova Scotia, CA).

|| Paternal Grandmother's Mother's Line

Silvain Sonnier, Sr. (1736 Nova Scotia, CA - 1801 Louisiana, USA) and his wife Marie Magdeleine [Bourg] Sonnier (1744 Nova Scotia, CA - 1814 Louisiana, USA).

Jean Baptiste Granger (c1741 Nova Scotia - 1842 Louisiana, USA) and his wife Susanne [Cormier] Granger (c1763 Nova Scotia, CA - 1800 Louisiana, USA).

Alexandre Aucoin (1725 Nova Scotia, CA - 1780 France) and his wife Isabelle [Duhon] Aucoin (c1750 Nova Scotia - 1817 Louisiana, USA).

[twistingtreeancestry]

J. Harley Garrett-Hyde

Today is my 3rd great-grandfather's 171st birthday, so allow me to introduce you to him!

Harley Hyde, as he seemed better known, was born on 13 Oct 1853 in Greenville County, South Carolina, USA to unknown parents. In a Genealogy.com forum from 2011, a man I'll name as R.T. alleged he was descended from Harley and his only known wife, Harriet C. Cobb. He claimed he received information from a conversation with Hattie E. B. Alexander in 1992. Hattie is the youngest child and only known daughter of Harriet and her second husband, Benjamin Valentine "Tiny" Alexander. According to R.T., Hattie revealed that Harley's birth surname was originally Garrett, but when one of Harley's parents was killed during the U.S. Civil War, he was taken in by his mother's family and assumed his mother's maiden and family name of Hyde. R.T. went on to mention a newspaper article from the Guntersville Democrat that detailed Harley was killed on 10 Dec 1889 in a steam boiler explosion. Another article a week later discussing Harley's land called him Harley Garrett.

While I couldn't locate the newspaper articles, I found a book published in 2016 by Robin Sterling titled People and Things from the Marshall County, Alabama, Guntersville Democrat 1880-1891.

Two entries stood out.

Since both of them lend hefty credence to R.T.'s accounts, I wanted to verify that this was, in fact, my 3rd great-grandfather.

What are the odds it could be someone else? I know, but you'd be surprised! I have a post about Lula Bell Adams, who's not only my great-grandmother but also the wife of Isaac Bales "Brov" Hyde Sr., the son of our very own Harley and Harriet Hyde.

Family trees, amirite?

The verification process began with a 1985 obituary for Lula Bell (Adams) Hyde Traffenstedt that could be personally authenticated. It mentions that she "died at the home of her daughter Dr. Mattie Hyde in Mobile" and later that "she went to visit her daughters Dr. Hyde and Mrs. Lillie Tipton".

Mattie Hyde delivered my mother into this world and was her great-aunt (my 2nd great-aunt). My mother spent many fun times with her and was admittedly spoiled rotten by Dr. Mattie. Lillie Belle (Hyde) Tipton was my great-grandmother. It also mentions another daughter, Bertha, whom my mother also knew, and a son named Robert.

With those links verified, I found a 1910 census that corroborates with the obituary. Isaac B. Hyde was listed as head of household and his wife was listed as Lula B., with their listed children being Bertha M., Lillie B., and Robert E. This census, along with census records from 1900 and 1920, ties Lula and her children to Isaac. I also found marriage records that prove Lula and Isaac were married on 22 Aug 1897 in Marshall County, Alabama, USA.

Next, I tracked down Isaac's death record to prove his parentage. Unfortunately, his father is listed as "DK" or "don't know", but his mother is listed as Harriett Garrett, and his children are listed as Robert, Mattie, Bertha, and Lillie. Even his [step]siblings were listed: Frank [Thomas Franklin] and Cobb [David Cobb] Alexander, and Hattie (Alexander) Mize [Maze].

It's certainly compelling evidence. If it wasn't enough, though, his obituary solidifies the information by again naming all of his children and stepsiblings. Many other records verify relationships between the Alexander children and their father Benjamin to Harriet(t) C. Cobb AKA Harriet(t) Garrett AKA Harriet(t) Hyde AKA Harriet(t) Alexander.

To authentically link Harriet to Harley, I looked at a census from 1880. The head of household is J. H. Garrett, whose wife is Harriett, and whose children are Walter and I.B. This led me to find a death certificate for William Walter Hyde, whose parents are listed as Harvey Hyde and Harriet Cob. Pretty close, but I like to be sure.

I dug around the internet until I finally found an obituary for a Mrs. Harriet C. Cobb-Hyde-Alexander, a definitive match if ever there was one! It names Harley Hyde as her first husband, who was "killed by an explosion of a steam boiler in December, 1889". To add to the gold mine, it also mentions their sons, W.W., I.B., and P.M. Hyde, Harriet's marriage to Benjamin and their children T.F. and D.C. Alexander and Hattie Alexander-Maze.

Sadly, I've yet to discover who Harley's parents were. Some records seem to indicate Harley's first initial, J., stood for Jacob, but I can't verify them. For now, my lineage through him back into the expanse of time remains a mystery, but I'm holding onto hope I'll figure out where he, and I, came from.

If you've read this far, I hope you've enjoyed getting to know Harley and letting his memory live for a few moments more.

Make sure to follow My Twisting Tree of Ancestry for more of my family stories and shares! Until next time, tell me about your mysterious relative!

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Day of Commemoration for the Acadian Expulsion

Image Description: A black and white portrait of the Ovillier Guillot and Eve Vice family, circa the early-to-mid 1900s. Top (children), left to right: Eunice Guillot 1922-Dec; Joseph Guillot 1926-2014; Lenus Guillot 1923-1960; Beulah Guillot 1918-1991. Bottom (parents), left to right: Ovillier Guillot 1897-1967; Eve Vice 1897-1950.

The two daughters wear similar dark, button-down dresses with white doll collars. The mother wears a dark, button-down open-collar blouse or dress. The two sons and the father wear white dress shirts covered by fastened suit jackets complete with ties.

Image by [[TBD]].

— — — — — — — — —

Pictured above is my 3rd great-uncle Ovillier Guillot and his family. He is the 4th great-grandson of Jean Baptiste Guillot.

Today is the Day of Commemoration for the Acadian Expulsion.

While I have quite a few direct ancestors who lived in Nova Scotia and ended up in France at the time of the expulsion, there's only one family unit that I have been able to confirm was expelled.

That was the family of my 8th great-grandfather Jean Baptiste Guillot, born in Acadia in 1720 with his body given to the Atlantic Ocean in 1758. His family was expelled from Cobequid, Acadia, Nova Scotia to France during the brutal "Great Expulsion" by the British, who wanted to squelch any potential threats from the Acadians and the Mi'kmaq during the French and Indian War.

His son (my 7th great-grandfather) Charles Olivier Miquel Guillot was only 13 in 1758 when they had to take the long, arduous 75-day journey to France. His father Jean, along with 4 of his brothers, never made it off of the ship.

Charles grew up in France where he married and had 3 children of his own. They left France in 1785 to board one of the seven ships paid for by Spain, Le Saint-Rémi, to take them to Lafourche Parish, Louisiana.

Many members of the Wabanaki Confederacy (I believe predominately it was the Mi'kmaq militia), in addition to other affiliated Indigenous tribes and Acadians, who rallied a resistance were slaughtered or expelled. They refused to swear loyalty to the British crown and surrender to British colonists, refused to convert from Catholicism to Protestantism, and refused to allow themselves to be displaced without a fight. Numerous battles took place to stop the deportation with wins and losses across the board.

While no one has one lineage, I was raised as a proud Cajun despite having often felt ashamed of being Cajun for various reasons (like my accent). I even tried my hardest over twelve years to banish anything that could link me to my roots, not knowing the history behind a part of my ethnicity and culture.

Digging into my ancestry has been a wild ride, and there were many things found within my lineages that were not honorable in any way, but this chunk of my history? This has made me proud to be Cajun again.

I wish I had respected it more when I was still able to be immersed in it. I wish I had asked my pawpaw to tell me more stories. I wish I had kept up with Cajun French (AKA Louisiana French). I wish I hadn't let my cultural heritage fall through my fingers.

Many blessings to those who fought and lost their lives against the British colonists in an attempt to secure the freedom of not only themselves but of future generations to come.

[Disclaimer: I am still only beginning to educate myself about this event and am utilizing my current understanding of how events unfolded and who was involved. I apologize in advance for any misconceptions or misinformation regarding the historical accuracy of my comments.]

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Acadian Genealogy Research | My Biggest Regret

Image by www.epictop10.com. The website is no longer functional and is up for sale. I cannot find another site for this creator. Found on Flicker.com

— — — — — — — — —

I was born and raised Cajun in Southwest Louisiana with my paternal family, all Cajuns and Acadians as far back as I've been able to trace to that period. My paternal grandmother's side was Catholic while my paternal grandfather's side was Baptist.

At some point in my youth, I was given my grandfather's family bible, which had his lineage back to France written on the front inner flap of the cover.

The family bible was roughly 13" tall by 8" wide with a depth of about 1 ½". It had a cream-white background and the title "Holy Bible" was embossed with a shimmery dark golden ink or paint. The title was stylized in large font in the upper center right of the front cover with the "o" in "Holy" aligning over the "B" in "Bible".

Since my family unit was constantly being moved around at the time, most of my possessions lived in boxes that stayed behind at relatives' houses. The family bible was among those possessions, and eventually, the contents of these boxes were largely forgotten.

A few years after my grandparents died, I was finally in a place to receive my boxes. When I rediscovered the family bible, I didn't feel like I should be the steward of it as I wasn't Christian, wouldn't be having kids, and didn't care about genealogy at the time.

Instead, I decided it should go to a responsible family member who would be able to enjoy it and continue to pass it down. Sadly, no one accepted it for a variety of valid reasons. My life then hit some gnarly turbulence and I was again constantly on the move.

I began noticing that with each move, the family bible was becoming more damaged because I could no longer protect it properly. I had since gone no contact with all of my family, and reaching back out was not an option.

A couple months after noticing the accruing damage, I stopped in a random town to donate even more of my belongings to a Goodwill shop. I accidentally gave them a box with my necessities in it, including the family bible. Thankfully, I quickly realized the error and was able to get the box back.

When they saw the tape sealing the box had been cut open, the volunteers suggested I go through the contents to ensure nothing was missing. It had merely been rifled through, likely to take inventory.

The family bible was visible, and one of the volunteers asked about it. I told them a tl;dr version of my experience with it and the fears I had over it being destroyed. The volunteer went over the option of donating it and assured me that it was highly likely to find a good home in that town. I agreed to leave it in their hands and continued on my way.

After not being able to get it out of my head for a few days, I decided to call the Goodwill store to inquire if they still had the family bible. I learned that it had just finished processing the day before and was bought after only 4ish hours of being put out on the sales floor. I've since kicked myself plenty of times, especially once I fell into genealogy.

I no longer remember the ink-etched names of my forebears. I don't even remember the state I was in (though I have a list of likely states*), let alone the city.

I often wonder what ever became of the family bible. I harbor no musings that I will ever again have possession of it, but I hope that it's been cared for and will one day reunite with my grandfather's descendants.

It is indubitably not only the biggest regret I have regarding my Acadian genealogy research but also considering the genealogy research of other Cajuns and Acadians who might have benefitted from such a primary source of lineage.

* — Possible states: Arkansas, Iowa, Kansas, Nebraska, New Mexico, Oklahoma, Utah, Wyoming — Possible time frame: ~2010s

[twistingtreeancestry]

The Tragedies of Levi Oscar Smith and His Wives

TRIGGER WARNING TRIGGER WARNING TRIGGER WARNING This work discusses severe injury, burns, different types of death, manners of death, symptoms of death, causes of death, and possibly other unpleasant topics that may be triggering or upsetting. Please carefully consider whether you're in a good space and/or mature enough to read further. TRIGGER WARNING TRIGGER WARNING TRIGGER WARNING

Who is Levi O. Smith?

Levi is one of my spouse's great-grandfathers. He was born in Indian Territory (McAlester, Pittsburg County), Oklahoma, USA in 1898. At 20 years old, he married his first wife, Opal Alsus Jackson, 17 years old, on 1 Jun 1918 in Holtville, Imperial County, California, USA. They had their first child, a son named Eugene Ellis Smith, in October of 1919. Eugene was followed by the birth of Louis M. Smith in 1921, then Raymond Leroy Smith in February of 1924. Sometime around the beginning of 1925, Opal became pregnant with Vivian Louise Smith.

Opal Alsus Jackson

Opal was born in 1901 in Oklahoma, USA. In 1910, she and her birth family were listed on two census records—one under General Population and one under Indian Population. On the General Population record, she, her mother, and her siblings were listed as white while her father was listed as Indian. On the Indian Population record, her father was listed as Indian, her mother was listed as white, and she and her siblings were listed as half-Indian, half-white.

According to events detailed by The Bulletin (Pomona, Los Angeles County, California, USA) and Riverside Daily Press (Riverside, Riverside County, California, USA) newspapers, respectively, indicate that the tragedy of Opal Alsus Jackson began on 17 Oct 1925.

While starting a fire at her mother's home in Corona, Riverside County, California, USA, Opal sent her 3 or 4-year-old son Louis to fetch her kerosene. Instead, Louis mistakenly brought back a jar of gasoline. This resulted in an explosion that set the house, and her clothes, aflame.

Despite her condition, the pregnant and burning Opal managed to get all three of her children out of the house before she "fell into the flames". Eugene and Raymond's conditions were never noted and Levi wasn't mentioned at all, but devastatingly, Louis succumbed to his injuries a few hours later. "At almost the hour of his death", Opal gave birth to Vivian, who seemed healthy and suffered no ill effects from the traumatic situation that resulted in her birth. Louis was laid to rest four days later.

Opal was admitted to Cothe Rona Hospital (which I cannot locate) where her chances of recovery were described optimistically due to her having "such remarkable recuperative power". It was stated that 80% (or, alternatively, 4/5ths) of the surface of her body was severely burned. She stayed in the gray zone between life and death for just over a month before "unfavorable symptoms developed". She succumbed to her injuries on the morning of 21 Nov 1925 at just 24 years old. She was laid to rest with Louis the next day, and they now share a gravemarker.

Her baby daughter, Vivian, lived to be 89 years old with a husband, children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. According to her obituary, she served as a civilian staff car driver at an Ontario, CA military base during WWII, and she worked for 40+ years "for General Electric, both the Iron Plant downtown Ontario and the Aircraft at the Ontario Airport". It appears she lived a full, healthy, and happy life. She was preceded in death by Eugene, Raymond, and her half-brother, Jay, as well as her husband and her son.

Raymonde Victorine Louise Aubry

Raymonde was born in 1912 in France, Europe. She immigrated in late 1986 from Paris, Île-de-France, France, Europe at 13 years old aboard the S.S. Niagara with her parents and little sister. Their destination was Ontario, CA, but they made port in Galveston, Galveston County, Texas, USA on 4 Oct 1926, and must have navigated northwest to California afterward.

Next, she appears as "Ramon" in a 1930 census in Ontario, CA as the 17-year-old new bride of 31-year-old Levi Smith, with Eugene, Raymond, and Vivian in their household and listed their children. It was recorded that she could read and write, spoke English, and also spoke French at home before she immigrated. Over the following years, she and Levi birthed their children: a daughter, Lela Faye Smith, and two sons, Jay Loren and Jimmy Dale Smith.

I've gathered from articles in The Los Angeles Times, The Pomona Progress Bulletin, and The San Bernardino County Sun that Raymonde's tragedy started when Levi picked her up from Sunday church on the evening of 30 Jul 1939.

He told Deputy Coroner W. J. Weller that shortly after the service, Raymonde allegedly began to accuse Levi of adultery while she was attending church. He insisted that after he dropped her off at 7:15 p.m. he visited a beer parlor until it was time to retrieve her at 9:15 p.m.

Later that night, Raymonde joined Levi in the bedroom and he heard her whisper "goodbye" to her 3-year-old son (and youngest child), Jimmy. He then asked her where she was going, to which she replied, "I've done it. I've taken poison."

Levi immediately took her to the hospital where she was declared dead on arrival at just 26 years old. It was later reported by Coroner R. E. Williams that she'd ingested strychnine—the poison, which Deputy Coroner Weller alleged she'd taken in three previous death attempts, was referred to by one article as a "fatal potion". Levi claimed the poison was used to exterminate gophers and that Raymonde knew where it was kept. He also admitted that she'd threatened to ingest the poison when they were arguing, but he hadn't believed her until she told Jimmy goodbye.

Williams stated an inquest into her death would likely be unnecessary, and her death was ruled as death by suicide via poisoning. She was laid to rest five days later.

What happened to Levi?

After being a farmer since 1918, Levi became an irrigator at a tree nursery by 1940 before becoming a truck driver of farm produce by 1941.

On 21 Feb 1941, 42-year-old Levi was fatally injured in an accident while falling from a truck. His death certificate states he died of shock due to a brain aneurysm created by a brain hemorrhage three miles east of Perryville, Maricopa County, Arizona, USA. A newspaper article named Buckeye, Maricopa County, Arizona, USA as his place of death, which is approximately 3 miles east of Perryville.

Levi was buried in the same cemetery as his second wife, Raymonde. While they didn't end up in the same section, their sections butt up against each other.

34 years later, his 40-year-old son Jay, a truck driver for Midwest Growers Association, would die in a trucking accident "25 miles east of Lordsburg" in Grant County, New Mexico, USA. I believe he died on I-70 in Wilna, Grant County, New Mexico, USA.

That's all, for now!

If you made it this far, thanks for sticking with me and learning about some of my spouse's departed family. Make sure to follow me so you don't miss my future posts about genealogy and family history, or random historical finds I think are interesting!

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My Cherokee Princess

It's a tale as old as bloodlines.

In honor of Canada's observance of National Indigenous Peoples Day, I want to talk about the Indigenous North American myths in the closets of my family history.

Before I get to that, however, I want to highlight some amazing, educational, funny, dedicated, and/or crafty Indigenous creators or brands I follow. They are not listed in a particular order, and this is not a comprehensive list. I do my best to only use the names and titles that the individuals publicly use themselves. Please let me know of corrections!

None of the links I'm including in this post are affiliated or endorsed in any way.

Birdie Sam, T'lingit

Bisan Owda, Palestinian

Angeline Boulley, Nish Kwe

Ari Tison, Bribri

Melissa Blair, Anishinaabekwe

Dani Trujillo, Indigenous and Chicana

Azalea Crowley, Kānaka Maoli and Filipino American

Ida Helene Benonisen, Sámi - Reconnecting

One Way Sky, band, Gila River Indian Community and the Tohono O'odham Nation

Turanga Morgan-Edmonds, Māori

Yolteotl Creations (Angie Zuzeth), Tongva - Reconnecting

Mozart Gabriel, Taos Pueblo and Diné Navajo Salt Clan

Birdy Brzezinski, Menominee/Potawatomi

Paaka Davis, Māori

Che Jim, Diné, Nishnaabe, and Chicano

Vanessa Brousseau, Inuk

Waŋblí Luta Win, Sicangu and Oglala Lakota

Ray Tony Charlie, Coast Salish Elder

Hāwane Rios, Kānaka 'Ōiwi

Lily Hi'ilani Okimura, Kānaka Maoli

Nikki Apostolou, Kanien'kéha

Kayuula Nova, Inuk

Tse shá’íí Chíníí, Lipan Apache and Shoshone

Next, I want to share some websites (also in no particular order and non-comprehensive) that I'm currently adding to a Linktree that I hope to air soon.

Land Back

Protect Uncontacted Tribes Petition

Helping Homeless Keiki Succeed

Demand a Ceasefire in Gaza

Orange Shirt Society

Native Justice Coalition

MMIWUSA

Defense for Children International Palestine

Indian Residential School Survivors Society

Council for Native Hawaiian Advancement

Lāhui Foundation

Palestine Children's Relief Fund

International Work Group for Indigenous Affairs

A Little Background

It was said my paternal side had distant blood relations to the Apache, Blackfoot, Cherokee, and Comanche nations (as well as French and English), while my maternal side had distant blood relations to the Sioux Confederacy (as well as Scandinavian and Irish).

As a child, I took this at face value. I thought surely the elders of my family would know with certainty who we were and where we came from. As an adult, I know better.

Raised with my paternal family, we "knew" we had Native American blood, but it wasn't something to specify outside of the home. My Pawpaw would tell me since we didn't live the way Native Americans did, it wasn't right to call ourselves that. We were proud Cajuns, and that's all anyone else needed to know. At the time, and even among some today, it's believed that to be Cajun automatically makes you at least part Native, though that's a false generalization.

My mother never spoke much about the alleged Sioux connection within her family. It was just a "truth" passed down. She used to call me her "Indian baby" [mega cringe to think back on] due to my tanned skin when I was born and how dark my tan could get as I grew. In elementary school, I was called an "Indian Coonass" and was relentlessly told that my skin wasn't tanned, it was dirty. Spoiler: No, it wasn't.

Whether I was Native American or not, it became a minute piece of my identity—a negative one, at that. By middle school, I rejected the Cajun and Native American identities that were forced on me and I stayed out of the sun as much as I could. By high school, I was no longer fluent in Cajun or Metropolitan French, had largely dropped my accent, and all thoughts of being Native American or Cajun were banished to the void.

After I left Louisiana, my actual knowledge of Native American issues began to deepen, and it finally started sinking in that the family lore was likely wrong. I never considered myself Native American again, as I doubted I would find proof to the contrary.

Nearly Caught Up

It was about this time that I initially made my first family tree on Ancestry.com. I had multiple reasons for doing so, but it was in part to set my familial record straight. I wanted to prove once and for all that we had no Native American blood or affiliations to stop the perpetuation of the Cherokee Princess myth. It was literally the least I could do.

I realized fairly quickly that I didn't know much about my relatives. I didn't care to know my biodad's side of the family that I already knew, and my mother's side had always been somewhat of a mystery.

Thankfully, the family members that I kept in my life were able to give me a great headstart. Sadly, I didn't know much about how to research family history at the time. When I kept hitting brick walls, I got bored and put it down. It was largely forgotten about for years.

In 2016, I discovered Find a Grave. I regularly visit cemeteries, so it seemed like a great idea to help connect the dead to their living or departed families. It gave me a chance to discover more about these long-forgotten people and to tell their stories—to let them live if but for a moment in someone's consciousness.

While researching, I discovered multiple other sites and tools. It eventually led me back to my family tree. This time around, I've learned more than I ever thought I would. As I added individuals and family to my tree, it was amazing to make speculative connections from the past to things about me now. I've always been afraid of sailing across the ocean. Could that be generational trauma that influenced my genes from my ancestors and their families dying aboard ships during Le Grand Dérangement?

Now, as I briefly mentioned in my essay, Happy National DNA Day!, I have 0.3% Indigenous American traces in my DNA. This lends credence to having a Native American ancestor. Is it on my maternal side? Paternal? Who knows, because I haven't definitive proof that the individual even exists.

23andMe traces back roughly 8 generations, so I have an approximate time frame. That's not overly helpful when I can't even make it past 3rd great-grandparents on some branches. Still, I've ended up with 3 unverified possibilities.

"Potential" Indigenous Ancestors

Marie "Madam Treville" Lantier

The first possibility is my supposed paternal 4th great-grandmother, Marie. She was an alleged Indigenous traiteur who lived in Egan, Acadia Parish, Louisiana, USA. I learned of her through a distant relative that I met while inquiring about my 3rd great-grandmother Mary Louise (Marjolet) Simon. No sources or additional information were given, save for the warning that my relative couldn't verify Marie existed. Neither have I.

Joseph Doucet

The second possibility is my paternal 5th great-grandfather (of a different lineage), Joseph. Other descendants of his have accepted the claim that he is Joseph "of Atakapa" Doucet. Granted, I haven't done a lot of research on this family unit, but I did make it a point to look into this for a few days.

According to a French adventurer named Louis LeClerc Milfort, Joseph was a European Jesuit who had been chosen by a band of Atakapa Natives to be their chief and had been living with them for barely over a decade with his six children.

I've read and reread the entry Milfort wrote in 1781 that discusses this encounter, and I cannot rightfully claim that my ancestor Joseph Doucet is Joseph "of Atakapa". There is no substantial identifying information that possibly links the two. For one, it never mentions Joseph's surname. As a matter of fact, these are the only two times his name is even mentioned.

"He told me that his name was Joseph [. . .]" "[. . .] I took leave of Joseph and of the Atakapas [. . .]"

The entry doesn't list a wife, and the only wife I have a record of is Celeste Bellard, but they didn't marry until 1805. The only children I have a record of are their two children, the first (my ancestor) was born after the entry. None of the six children mentioned in the entry were named.

"I have six children whom I love a great deal, and with whom I want to end my days."

There's also an issue with the timeline. Based on the father I have listed for my Joseph, he couldn't have been born before the late 1760s. However, based on the listed siblings I have for him, it's more likely he was born in the early to mid-1770s. This would put him at approximately 11 years old or younger. That's pretty young to have 6 kids and be a chief. Even if you assume he was born in the late 1760s, that really only tacks on an extra few years.

Based on a lack of substantial information and evidence, as well as my observations, I don't consider my Joseph and Joseph "of Atakapa" to be the same individual.

Germain Doucet

The last possibility is Joseph Doucet's 3rd great-grandfather, my 10th, Germain. According to the Mi'kmaq Nation's tribal pages (which has since been modified and no longer shows this passage) said:

"Germain Doucet, born 1641, is a Mi’kmaq man with a Turtle Island YDNA haplogroup, his lineage founded a ship building company that is still in business today, the family-owned fishing schooners and some Doucet men were registered owners of ships in the international shipping industry during the early 1700s. Germain and his descendants are Mi'kmaq men and members of the Mi'kmaq Tribe."

Now, there is a new passage that reads:

"The genealogy of the Doucet Turtle Island YDNA haplogroup descending from Germain Doucet raised by the French colonist, Germain Doucet is possibly the YDNA male clan lineage of the Membertou family of the Mi’kmaq Tribe. DNA testing of the 1610 Wampum Belt Treaty with Pope Paul V could confirm Turtle Island YDNA and MTDNA haplogroups of all who have touched the 1610 Wampum Belt Treaty, including Pope Paul V. DNA is a molecular clock. Because the identity of Germain’s mother is not recorded it is unknown what the mtDNA haplogroup is of Germain’s mother. Autosomal DNA test results of Germain and his wife Marie Landry’s descendants will eventually assist in the triangulation of kinship relationships to identify and confirm the identity of Germain’s mother and her relationship to the Membertou family."

Due to the Native Heritage Project, it seems beyond a shadow of a doubt that Germain is indeed a Mi'kmaq Native. I don't count him as an ancestor yet, despite getting a DNA match with another descendent of his, because I haven't done my own research and collected documented evidence that I'm a direct descendent of his and Mary/Marie Landry.

So. . . Am I Indigenous? Can I claim Indigeneity and join a tribe?

What happens if I can definitively prove these three ancestors (or anyone else) are Indigenous? Does that make me Indigenous? Well, in the most basic of ways, yes. I have Indigenous American DNA, so to that extent, I am a wee bit Indigenous American. Does that mean I get to claim Indigeneity? No, it certainly does not. Can I join a tribe? No, I certainly cannot.

While some tribes or individuals are quick to genuinely welcome anyone with a single drop of Native blood with open arms, that isn't the rule, and it shouldn't be expected or demanded by white folk who get excited at trace amounts of Native DNA.

According to the Native Governance Center, "about 70% of the federally recognized Native nations that share geography with the United States use blood quantum as a metric for citizenship." Generally, you'd need about 25% of your DNA to be Indigenous American to be recognized as such. I have less than 1%. How could I seriously justify making such a claim about myself? How could I seriously think I have a rightful place within a tribe?

Being Indigenous

Due to the history of Indigenous people being stripped of their land, families, spirituality, and other cultural and religious practices, many tribes and individuals are stringent on who can call themselves Native. Many white folks get up in arms about this, calling it gatekeeping and racist, when in actuality it's a safeguard against further whitewashing and colonization. It's a protective barrier against those who willy-nilly want to be "Indian Princesses" or want to reap the few benefits that Indigenous people can get.

This brings me to the term "Pretendian". A Pretendian is someone who is not of Native descent, typically knows that they aren't, but still peddles the false narrative that they are in order to capitalize off of the (usually) stereotypical identity/product/service. This term also encompasses my family, even if we assumed it to be an honest mistake. The issue is that for generations we blindly accepted that we were Indigenous, took on Indigenous trauma and triumph that we had no right to, without ever looking to verify it.

Pretendians happen for many reasons. Some are intentionally malicious while others are completely innocuous, or somewhere in between. It could be shame over the atrocities ancestors committed against Natives, assuaged by assuming a Native identity. It could be for a leg-up on land claims over other colonizers. It could be that other races/ethnicities would rather be thought of as Native instead of their actual race/ethnicity. It could be that a non-Native family lived among Native families, and over time the story changed to the non-Native family being a Native family.

No matter the reason, it's never a good excuse to continue perpetuating this harmful practice when you either know better or could easily learn better in 2024.

Indigenous people have always deserved better from us, and we've failed them at every turn. They simply want their right to exist as they please and return to being stewards of the land we've decimated.

Indigenous Voices

There is still a lot that I don't know about Indigenous issues. Am I using the proper terms? Is the history I reference/know true or colonized and whitewashed? Am I misrepresenting a people I'm not part of? What if there are conflicting viewpoints among the same group or individuals?

Until I get checked, I won't know.

The important part of striving to be an ally and accomplice to Indigenous people is accepting that because you're not of them and don't share their experiences, you'll likely never know everything you should or want, but you should never stop learning what you can.

It's also important to accept that you'll be checked at least once as long as you're participating in discussions involving Indigeneity. I've been checked multiple times over the years, most recently by a Romani person. Due to listening to other Romani voices, I pushed back against a picture posted on Facebook that used the g-slur. It definitely wasn't used in an intentionally offensive way, but I'd learned that as an ally and accomplice, I should still push back.

I wasn't aggressive but offered an alternative picture that didn't use the word with an explanation of why. Then the Romani person confronted me and told me that I shouldn't speak on behalf of their people and that they saw no issue with the use of the word. What should I do in that situation? There are conflicting voices and I'm being publicly reprimanded.

When Indigenous people (or anyone of any race/ethnicity/nationality) use their voice to correct you on topics that pertain to them, you should put your pride and ego aside to listen. Could they be way off-base? Sure. They're human, too. Does an individual or tribe speak for all individuals or tribes? No, humans are too varied for that kind of overarching consensus (most of the time, anyway).

However, it's worth the time to reflect on what was said to you (especially if it triggers you). You might discover a mindset or behavior that you never realized was problematic.

For me, I was triggered momentarily when the Romani person corrected me because I was merely trying to do what I was asked to do in a situation where the slur was used and then suddenly I was being scolded for interfering. It was contradictory and confusing, which can easily lead to irritation or even aggression.

Instead of arguing, I politely explained why I interjected, that I accepted their voice on this topic, that I apologized, and that I would use more caution in the future. Afterward, I was still a bit spiffed at the way I was admonished, but I took time to reflect on my actions and their words.

Honestly, I'm still learning how to navigate potential similar scenarios to come, and have curtailed how often I interject on behalf of others until I figure things out. Allyship and Accompliceship are positions of constant learning and evolving. It's hard, which is why it's so easy for others to see and call us out when we're not being genuine or doing our due diligence. Besides, being an ally or accomplice can't compare to the hardships of being the actual marginalized person or community.

In Conclusion

My family, purposefully or ignorantly, are/were Pretendians, and I'm sorry from the pit of my gut for my part in it. I take full accountability for my naivety and ignorance. Despite undoubtedly having Indigenous American trace DNA, I do not and will not have the right to claim Indigeneity and all that entails.

The importance of uplifting Indigenous voices cannot be overstated. They are still fighting against the systemic and systematic oppression that endangers their rights, protections, families, practices, and land. Follow Indigenous creators, learn whose land you live on, listen to how you can help (and be flexible on the feedback you get from doing so), stop believing the racist and dehumanizing things you've been told about them, and don't make trouble that they will incur the consequences of.

[twistingtreeancestry]

Fallen Branches: An Update!

In my post, Fallen Branches, I talk about how I discovered the man I've always believed to be my great-grandfather—Hugh Dorsey Clifton Sr.—wasn't my ancestor after all. Instead, my great-grandfather was a man named Joseph David Singleton.

Thankfully, I had forceful determination and a draft card to lead the way down this unknown trail. From there, I found a 1940 census record that verified Joseph Singleton was my great-grandfather! Next, I found an obituary that sadly didn't list any known relatives (my great-grandmother or their children together).

Among many other things, one of my research methods has been to seek out DNA relatives that have "Singleton" as one of their listed names. I made a hit on GEDmatch and even made contact with a cousin! I couldn't believe it!

So imagine my surprise when I recently made contact with another Singleto-related cousin on 23andMe! Bless them with the greatest luck, because they just helped me to confirm not only that the man in the obituary is my great-grandfather, but gave me knowledge about Joseph's relatives as well!!

To say I'm excited is a drastic understatement! I've gone full genealogical geek mode!!

As much as it pains me to say it, though, I'm still nowhere near ready to do anything with this information. While my new tree is coming along nicely, I'm not even on my family yet! I've been filling out my partner's family info first since fewer individuals on his side have been added.

I'm still taking notes for when I'm finally prepared to venture down this new avenue of my family history. Until then, I won't forget that I promised some interesting peeks into my partner's familial history!

As they stay, stay tuned for more!

[twistingtreeancestry]

Not Again. . .

Does anyone remember roughly two months ago when I posted Back to the Roots—an essay detailing how I had to restart my original family tree (with 7,000+ individuals) from scratch due to my own pre-hobbyist negligence catching up to me?

At the time of that post, I already had 30 individuals nestled into my new, pristine tree. Since then, I've added another 150 meticulously researched and cited individuals to keep all entries consistent and verified.

Last night, I realized with a frustrated heart that I forgot I decided I wouldn't add transcribed-only data to the verified information pool, but that was definitely what I'd been doing with the new tree. I don't know how many individuals were affected by this oversight.

I have to give myself some grace, though. Suddenly changing up a long-standing habit is difficult. All I can do now is fix the issue before I go any further.

Do I start completely over again? That's certainly an option, but one I'll use as a last resort. With only 180 individuals, it should be relatively easy to go through them all to discover which ones need damage control. If the undertaking becomes more trouble than it's worth then I'll likely start fresh.

Wish me luck, everyone! If you're curious how my genealogy journey will go, give me a follow! I have some interesting upcoming essays concerning my spouse's family that you won't want to miss!

[twistingtreeancestry]

Happy National DNA Day!

As a hobby genealogist, DNA, or deoxyribonucleic acid, is an invaluable and fun tool.

I was lucky to have a head start on my family tree, but taking a genetic test through 23andMe (psst, their kits are on sale!!) has allowed me to take my research further.

After submitting my DNA, I connected with relatives that I otherwise may have never known existed. I've filled in branches of my tree that were sturdily brick-walled due to a distant cousin and I putting our heads together to figure out our MRCA, or most recent common ancestor.

It's also given me insight into my ancestry composition! Though Ancestry's database is larger, 23andMe and Ancestry have comparable accuracy rates for their ethnicity estimates. My results have shifted since I took my test in late 2020, but it largely stayed the same.

Image Description: An image of a colorful strand of DNA. It is illuminated with a glow and has soft bubbles flowing from it. My DNA results are typed through the center of the image. Image from BeFunky stock images. Edited by Keekee Smith with BeFunky.

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Everything outside of my Northwestern European percentage came as a shock to me. The exception is the trace ancestry of Indigenous American DNA, as my family claimed this ancestral ethnicity for generations. The shock with the Indigenous DNA was mainly that it was true to any extent (check out this article from Harvard University's Native American Program to learn more about the "Cherokee Princess Myth"). That's a story for a different post, though!

Initially, I wasn't sure where the Spanish & Portuguese DNA could be from, but I've since learned about an 8th great-grandfather born in Jamaica who allegedly had a Spanish father or mother. I haven't yet verified his information, so it's still unclear if that's my Spanish/Portuguese link but time will tell!

The Asian and Broadly Arab, Egyptian & Levantine DNA blew my mind. There were no family rumors or other inklings that would have ever led me to believe those would show up in my DNA. A quick Google search says that 23andMe goes back about 8 generations, so these bits of DNA likely come from within that range. Wherever it is, though, I've yet to find it!

While some of my branches are fleshed out as far back as a 12th great-grandparent, I still have many lineages brick-walled 3-4 generations back. Truth is, there's just no telling until that ancestor decides to reveal themself.

Until then, I'll keep up the familial work and enjoy the fun little things DNA has to offer. I'm taking a short hiatus from genealogy research to catch up on other responsibilities, but I'll be back to reporting my family's shenanigans in no time.

In the meantime, tell me about your ancestors and their lives! What are some interesting discoveries you've found?

[twistingtreeancestry]

💔😢

http://quotes-4u.tumblr.com/

[twistingtreeancestry]

If you happen to be somebody trying to learn about your ancestors, and you're asking your living relatives what they know, I strongly suggest opening a document on your computer to keep track of all their names, birth dates and stories. Keep that shit documented so you don't forget and can share it with future generations.

[twistingtreeancestry]

I simply adore this 💜

Your body is an ancestor. Your body is an altar to your ancestors. Every one of your cells holds an ancient and anarchic love story. Around 2.7 billion years ago free-living prokaryotes melted into one another to form the mitochondria and organelles of the cells that build our bodies today. All you need to do to honor your ancestors is to roll up like a pill bug, into the innate shape of safety: the fetal position. The curl of your body, then, is an altar not just to the womb that grew you, but to the retroviruses that, 200 million years ago taught mammals how to develop the protein syncytin that creates the synctrophoblast layer of the placenta. Breathe in, slowly, knowing that your breath loops you into the biome of your ecosystem. Every seven to ten years your cells will have turned over, rearticulated by your inhales and exhales, your appetites and proclivity for certain flavors. If you live in a valley, chances are the ancient glacial moraine, the fossils crushed underfoot, the spores from grandmotherly honey fungi, have all entered into and rebuilt the very molecular make up of your bones, your lungs, and even your eyes. Even your lungfuls of exhaust churn you into an ancestor altar for Mesozoic ferns pressurized into the fossil fuels. You are threaded through with fossils. Your microbiome is an ode to bacterial legacies you would not be able to trace with birth certificates and blood lineages. You are the ongoing-ness of the dead. The alembic where they are given breath again. Every decision, every idea, every poem you breathe and live is a resurrection of elements that date back to the birth of this universe itself. Today I realize that due to the miracle of metabolic recycling, it is even possible that my body, somehow, holds the cells of my great-great grandmother. Or your great-great grandmother. Or that I am built from carbon that once intimately orchestrated the flight of a hummingbird or a pterodactyl. Your body is an ecosystem of ancestors. An outcome born not of a single human thread, but a web of relations that ripples outwards into the intimate ocean of deep time.

Your Body is an Ancestor, Sophie Strand

[twistingtreeancestry]

Back to the Roots

Image Description: Many dark brown twisting branches of a strong and tall tree in Englewood, Colorado, USA splay starkly against a grayish-blue sky.

Image by Keekalee Photography.

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I've been researching my genealogy on and off for over a decade but began earnestly working on my family tree four years ago.

Unfortunately, when I began this later leg of my journey in early 2020, I didn't know what doing my due diligence entailed. While I always intended to go back and verify entries, my passion and curiosity would often sweep me away before demonstrable connections could be made.

This unintentional messy start to my research created the unstable foundation upon which my current tree, consisting of 7,070 people and innumerable hours of research, is built.

My technique has thankfully improved tremendously over the years. What good is that, though, when I constantly need to go back and fix things when errors are discovered? I've deleted entire family units, such as discussed in my post Fallen Branches. I also have information in my tree from records that I never saved that are no longer available to me.

It's time to amend this lapse. I'm starting over.

So far, replanting my familial tree is slow going. I've been learning The Chicago Manual of Style for proper citations (which have never been a strong suit of mine). I already have thirty members meticulously entered into my new tree.

Every entry of information has a coinciding image of the original document as well as a citation. Any entry without an image of the original document is listed separately and isn't used to establish information, though I will add a note that the information correlates with other established information or may provide me with additional information upon further research.

While starting over is certainly intimidating, it'll ensure that my future research is sound and will hopefully stand up to recreation should others need to verify portions of my tree. It also gives me a great opportunity to revisit stories to share here.

Until one of those stories comes my way, I'm gonna get back to filling out these rascally branches and let you know when I find something interesting. Remember to give me a follow so you don't miss my new posts!

[twistingtreeancestry]

Irish Lineage

Image Description: An old black and white photo likely from the 1920s to the 1960s of Isaac Bales "Brov" Hyde Sr. standing next to a vehicle [I'm currently attempting to ID it].

Image by I. B. A.

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This is my 2nd great-grandfather, Isaac Bales "Brov" Hyde, Sr.

Isaac's great-grandmother (my 5th) was Ellender Greer Cobb, the last of this line born in Ireland (no place specified).

So far, I have one missing link preventing me from definitively connecting myself to Ellender. I've proven with documentation that I'm descended from her alleged son, David Cobb. However, when attempting to connect David to Ellender the evidence is, at best, circumstantial.

Even if I never find concrete proof of Irish ancestry, I'll always have a deep love and respect for the Irish, their cultures, and their heritage. I'll always be grateful for growing up with Irish influences around me from immigrating to the same areas in Louisiana as my confirmed Acadian ancestors.

[twistingtreeancestry]

Jamey Johnson - In Color (Official Video)

[twistingtreeancestry]

Global Strike Week for Gaza

Bisan Owda has called for a #strikeforgaza from Jan 21-28. I'm a day late, but until this strike is over, my posts across all social media platforms will solely be about Palestine and encouraging the world to put pressure on the people who can stop this genocide!

Over 25,000 Palestinians have been murdered with the full backing of the governments of the United States of America, the United Kingdom, Germany, France, and too many others.

This genocide HAS TO BE STOPPED.