Who Was William's Father?

One of my toughest research projects has been my 3rd great grandfather, William Henry Harrison Edmondson (1818-1891). The sheer number of Edmondson's located in the south and mid-west is staggering, so tracing the right person has been like untangling those dreaded Christmas lights. The names of his parents were included in research gifted to me, but having scoured much of the online resources available, as well as combining DNA evidence, I saw nothing to contradict the information I had. For years I worked this line and made great progress. I found land records that revealed William's wife's maiden name and family. I had located William's date of death and grave. I felt confident in how my Edmondson line was supported. Until 2 weeks ago that is.

Edmondson children: Laura Opal (my great grandmother), Loretta Violet, Myrtle holding Edna and Elvis, unknown, Carl, Arthur, and unknown 

A comment was made on an 1856 New Madrid, Missouri deed that I had uploaded for William. It was rather abrupt and just stated that the William Henry Harrison Edmondson, child of John Edmondson and Drelinder Norris, actually lived most of his life in Indiana and went by Henry H Edmondson. Huh? Who was this person and what information did they have? I immediately sent a reply politely stating that obviously we had a conflict in information, but I would love to collaborate and figure things out. Nothing. No response. I dug around and found this user's tree, wasn't initially impressed with the information, so went about re-looking at my own sources to confirm their solidity.

And in looking at my file with slightly more jaded, experienced eyes, I began to realize that my own claim was at best very circumstantial. Then I looked at the 1870 Federal Census tied to this “impostor”. There he was, living with his family in Indiana… including his sister, Nancy Edmondson Nunnamaker… who I had independently confirmed in my own tree as being a valid child of John and Drelinder Edmondson. Ruh-Roh Shaggy. I had a problem. It appeared that my 3rd great grandfather may be the “impostor”.  I had to delete the connection between my William Henry Harrison Edmondson and the parents I had recorded in my tree until further information could be found. It was time to rework this file.

In my early days as a genealogist, I made a multitude of beginner mistakes: too trusting of other's online trees, not citing my sources, not keeping a research log. I've spent a lot of time combing through my original work trying to fix poorly supported research, come to appreciate the value of sound research methods, and ultimately how to be a better genealogist. Reminders of my "enthusiastic" beginnings still come up from time to time, but I also must remember that even when practicing sound research techniques, mistakes can still happen.

The hardest part of this whole experience? I really dislike being wrong. Especially when I work so hard to be accurate. And since I have a public tree, how many people trusted my information to be accurate? Yes, every tree needs to be treated with a grain of salt and independently researched, but with the saturation of copy and paste trees out there, how many times had MY potentially inaccurate information been spread around? I hang my head in shame and finally understand the impulse to make all of my research private so I don’t perpetuate, even inadvertently, the spread of inaccurate information.

So now what? I take a deep breath, accept that mistakes happen, and correct what I can. For those that I know might have this information in their tree, I make personal contact and advise them of the issue. I continue to research and hope that I will eventually break through this new brick wall. Based on the dna evidence, I suspect I will return to this line, just by a different route. And finally, I take a bite of my humble pie, and send a thank you note to the user who brought this whole issue to light.

Fact Checking Family Folklore

My mom loves to tell a story of when I was two years old. I was an enthusiastic but unskilled butterfly wrangler. When I tried to catch the delicate wings with grubby fingers, she would caution me, “Be careful. Don’t hurt them.” My tot mind interpreted her warning much differently than was intended. Instead of me not hurting the butterflies, I thought she meant for me to be careful, the butterflies might hurt me. Apparently, it took quite some time before I wouldn’t run screaming whenever I spied one flitting past.

My childhood mishap can be applied to family lore that gets passed down through generations of storytelling. Most families have some version of one: Native American princesses, seven brothers travelling to America, or a member of Billy the Kid’s gang of outlaws. Facts and details can easily get distorted and stories can get embellished to make events more interesting to the listener. One thing we forget as we build our ancestors tales is that they were human too. They didn’t always tell the truth and sometimes the truth was deliberately buried beneath convenient fabrications. It then becomes our job as genealogists to sort out fact from fiction.

Take my 3^rd great grandmother for instance. Sarah Jane Johnson was born in Ohio in 1830 to a Charles Johnson and Anna Scott. In 1847, a man by the name of Reese Davis purchased a plot of land next to her family home, they were married in February 1848, and September of that year saw them welcoming their first child. Now Sarah Jane was a strong woman, but she led a tumultuous and adventurous life. Before her death in 1903, she had buried 6 of her children, her husband had declared bankruptcy, their marriage fell apart and they had started divorce proceedings. Sarah eventually left and moved with her two youngest daughters to Texas, where she founded a pioneering legacy. 

                                     

While her life on the Texas frontier was well documented, a lot of questions remained about her husband and the father of her children, Reese Davis. Where did he come from and what became of him? Family lore contended that Reese Davis was born on a ship coming from Wales, he eventually settled in Cincinnati, OH, and that he died around 1876 during a trapping expedition, leaving Sarah a widow. But what was truth, what was embellishment, and what was merely a tall tale of Texas?

I started by evaluating and investigating each part of the story in question. Then, working with my mom, we gathered both positive and negative evidence. We dug through census, divorce, land, cemetery, and probate records and were finally able to make some surprising conclusions.

Reese Davis (1823-after 1880)
Photo displayed at 1984 Davis Family Reunion

Reese may have been of Welsh descent, but he was born in New Jersey. His family eventually settled in Warren County, OH, where he met and married Sarah Jane Johnson. After the divorce in 1873, Reese and two of his daughters ended up in Missouri, where he was found alive purchasing land in 1880. There is speculation about his actual death date, but due to a courthouse fire, it is currently unclear when his estate was probated. Obviously the bulk of our family stories, as interesting as they may have been, weren't exactly total truth.

My mom and I compiled our newfound evidence and began to rewrite the family story. Our research paper goes into further detail of why we came to our conclusions and provides the sources we used to support our thesis. But while we have publicly released our findings, we acknowledge there is still more work to be done on this line and plan on supplemental research documents. I’m hoping that DNA evidence will help clarify Reese’s family in New Jersey, and that land records will help show when his property was sold after his death. Continuing to search family, associates, and neighbors might reveal additional details. Piece by piece, a new tale is emerging, one that encompasses and explains the old, but embraces the truth. A tale I can hopefully pass on a bit more accurately to my children and one that will give them a better appreciation for family lore and the truths it can reveal.  And ultimately, one that won't send them screaming in fear every time they hear, "Did I ever tell you the story about...?"  

Intoduction by Denise Christensen (the mother of the mother-daughter duo)

I grew up on Story.

My siblings and I loved to get our mother going, telling stories of her early life and those of her parents and grandparents, when we were supposed to be doing chores.

Those stories formed the homestead of my life and made me see that I am part of a bigger, grander Story.

The characters in those stories are very real to me, even now that I am in my sixties. For example, I feel that I know my grandmother, down to her low chuckle, though she died before I was born.

Both the strengths and weaknesses of those people form me. The strengths, such as faith, courage, and loyalty, give me values to reach for, continually. And the weaknesses give me understanding, compassion,and yes, hope, as I look to the bigger Story.

           I was inspired to create this drawing and poem after a visit to my mother's birthplace in Aurora, Nebraska in 1984.

Copyright of Denise Christensen and https://blogger.com/voicesofhome.blogspot.com