Grandma Verdie told me that her mother’s parents were buried “in Pitzer Cemetery” in the general vicinity of Winterset and Earlham, Iowa. Wanting to find the gravestone and see the burial site of Isaac Groves Bardrick and his wife, Celestia Brewer Bardrick, I ventured off one day with just an Iowa DOT map to find the cemetery. It wasn’t difficult to find, but after a thorough walk-through I determined that the stone I was looking for wasn’t there. Disappointed, I returned home.

At this time I didn’t fully trust the Internet as a source for genealogical information – everything that’s online, I reasoned, had to be transcribed by an imperfect human, so the chance for erroneous information was high. Also at that time, there wasn’t much even available online. These factors led me to shy away from using the Web as a serious genealogical resource.

Nonetheless, sometime after my attempt to find the Bardricks, I found a notation online which stated that Isaac and Celestia were in fact buried in “Roberts Cemetery,” in Adair County – not Pitzer cemetery in Madison County as Grandma had recalled.

So on another sunny day, I took off again in search of the Bardricks. A librarian in Greenfield (Adair County seat) gave me an imprecise map generally showing where the various cemeteries were located in the county, but this map was a hand-drawn affair with little dots where the cemeteries were. It did not name the cemeteries, or even the roads. She encouraged me to stop at a particular farm and ask the residents there for help, as they were sure to know.

These folks were friendly – but couldn’t direct me. I decided to go on up the road and maybe find someone else to ask. It was mid-summer, and lots of folks who work the land were out and about on various farm tasks so there really was no shortage of people to ask for help. I stopped at a couple places, and finally at one of them someone told me to visit a particular farm where the owner would probably have a spare “plat map” to share with me. It turns out that a plat map is a booklet published by the county that shows who owns each farm, and who resides in each farm house.  The map also showed little crosses where the cemeteries were, but again it did not name them by name. The man who gave me this booklet suggested that I stop by Bill Beaman’s place – Bill had lived in the county “forever” and could probably help me.

Bill Beaman was indeed helpful – he gave me perfect directions to Roberts Cemetery, and the moment I rounded the bend in the road I had a feeling I was in the right place. I stepped out of the car at the foot of the little hill on which the cemetery had been situated and started my walk-through at the west end of it. At the foot of the hill, at the last stone in the second row I walked, was the resting place of the Bardricks. “Ha! Found you,” I told them, and gently brushed away collected grass clippings from the stone.

Twist-to-the-ending #1: As it turns out, the stone here is marked for Celestia Bardrick but her death record shows that she is actually buried in Summerfield, Kansas, where she had traveled after Isaac’s death to live with one of her children. So even though I found them, I still haven’t fully found them.

Twist-to-the-ending #2: upon hearing the name Bill Beaman I immediately recognized it as one I’d heard my husband mention several times. The guy who helped me find my missing great-great grandparents was my husband’s ex-wife’s first ex-husband.

I don’t mean to ask, “Do you think you’re better than everyone else?” What I mean is, do you know just how knowledgable you really are, and do you believe in the value of what you do know?

Scott Hartshorn, who runs the Savvy Affiliate blog (for those of you who aren’t familiar with or interested in the “industry” side of blogging, believe me – it’s an industry!), recently made the point that it’s easy to assume that other people in your industry (in this case blogging) are better or smarter than you, and therefore more credible, and that can keep you from putting yourself out there, getting known, taking risks, and reaping the rewards.  Here are Scott’s words:

Insufficient arrogance is actually a problem which can plague many entrepreneurs. You look around and see many other people who seem so much more knowledgeable and authoritative than you. You mighty (sic) not think that you can compete with them until you learn more.

It seems to me that this point can be applied across the board: not just to blogging, but to work, family, parenting, socializing and even community involvement.

Having been a business owner, a Chamber of Commerce leader, the “new gal” for various employers, a first-time parent, a newbie motorcycle rider, and even – yes – a newbie blogger at various points in my life, I could relate to the concept of “insufficient arrogance” on many levels. So many times, I’ve realized (perhaps too late) that I didn’t start out a new phase of my life or project with the belief that what I brought to the table was just as good, if not better, than what other folks brought. So when I read Scott’s post, and the original post that he linked to, a light-bulb came on for me:

I’m not sufficiently arrogant!

Is this a female thing? Is it because I’m too dependent on the approval of others? On the notion of being liked? On the idea that what I know is somehow less valid than what others know?

And the question too painful to ponder just now: What has my insufficient arrogance cost me?

And so I’m just asking:  Have you ever let that nagging notion that somehow you’re a phoney keep you from doing what you wanted to do? How do you overcome the feeling, gather sufficient arrogance, and move forward?

I learned one of the core lessons of genealogy very early on: it’s easy to get distracted.

In a moment, you can wander off the main path (looking for direct blood-line ancestors) and start down any number of secondary trails that lead to aunts, uncles, cousins, skeletons-in-closet, or just historical context. One of my primary distractions has been the story of a great-uncle, William E.L. Thornburg, who was involved in a deadly shooting on a country road, following an argument with another man over a woman they both loved. News accounts of his trial report a divided town (was it self defense, as he claimed?), and a hundred years later I’m personally fascinated by the story. My fascination is fueled not only by the details of this particular story, but also because William was something of a rabble-rouser throughout his entire life.

Another major distraction for me has been learning about my great-great-grandfather, also named William Thornburg, who was wounded during the battle of Parkers Cross Roads, TN during the Civil War. I have the requisite copies of his service records, pension application and Grand Army of the Republic (GAR) membership card to tell the story, and I also have in my memorabilia trunk his GAR ribbon and a pair of wooden stirrups that were supposedly his during this time period.

My third major distraction has been the pursuit of a blood link to a Revolutionary War patriot, which would allow me to join the Daughters of the American Revolution (DAR). I have a clue that there may be a connection for me somewhere on the Bardrick side, but it’s time-consuming to pursue it – the challenge is compounded by the fact that two brothers apparently named their sons the exact same thing… so with my luck, the patriot connection will end up on the cousin side of the tree. Ah well, at least I’ll have done the legwork for some other lucky woman!

I characterize all of these as distractions, but of course these are the things that bring long-dead ancestors back to life and help me connect to my own history. I don’t begrudge these diversions – I welcome them.

One of the things that’s really hard for me to do in genealogy is to “interview” relatives. I’m actually an experienced interviewer of other people, having been a radio show host and a freelance business writer in previous decades. But those situations are different – you’re expected to get right to the point because everyone’s time is so limited. But there’s something that feels so artificial about sitting my relatives down for the specific purpose of getting them to open up about their pasts – it seems to me that those kinds of stories should come naturally out of a conversation, rather than simply being expected or demanded. My reluctance to ”demand” reminiscences from relatives has made it very difficult for me to collect that kind of information.

When my grandmother Verdie was alive, I knew she had a ton of great information to share about the small town in which she, my mother, and her ancestors grew up. She also had a very interesting early adult life, having worked here in Des Moines as a cafe waitress and prior to that in an ordnance plant north of town during WWII. I know I didn’t get even a small percentage this information from her, because she was the type of person who didn’t seem all that comfortable reminiscing and who would only answer the question that was put to her instead of adding the kind of extraneous commentary that makes those stories so fascinating. (She would’ve made a great witness in a court case!)

My husband, on the other hand, didn’t bear the burden of feeling like he was giving her the third degree, and he asked her questions willingly, especially about the ordnance plant. I would just sit and listen as he would lead her through stories about her work, glad for the opportunity to listen but also a little jealous that I couldn’t just leave my hang-ups at the door and dive in to such a personal conversation.

I’d love to hear your tips and suggestions for comfortable, compassionate interviews with relatives.