Census takers in early 20th century Canada no doubt had a difficult time of it. Imagine going door to door to visit the new immigrants who might not have been able to speak English and trying to communicate names, ages, dates of birth, etc. Considering so few of the newcomers could read, write or even spell their own name it is no wonder that ethnic names regularly got misspelled. I have been researching my family tree for many years and I usually take the detailed information in the Canadian censuses with a grain of salt. Often, it’s enough to find a family name in the correct location for me to verify a fact or family rumour.
Recently, however, I came across a record that literally made me stop in my tracks. Searching death certificates on the Manitoba Vital Statistics sitefor the family name “Sidor” I came upon a “Nykola (Nick) Sidor” who was sadly only eight years old when he died in 1903. The location put him in the same area as the Sidors in my family, so on a whim I ordered a copy of the certificate. (Vital statistics agencies are doing a wonderful job in providing old records online. As long as the birth certificate is over 100 years ago, the marriage certificate is over 80 years ago or the death certificate is over 70 years ago, the general public can search the records and order a copy of the original for a small fee. The genealogical info on these documents is well worth the cost.)
Not thinking anything would come of it, I checked the Canadian census listings again for this family for 1901, 1906 and 1911 in the Provencher District of Manitoba:
1901 Nicola Sidor, son of Wasyl and Marie, age 6 born Dec 11, 1894
1906 Nicola Sidor, son of Wasyl and Mariczka, age 2
1911 Nicola Sidor, son of Wasyl and Anna (a new wife or another creative mistake? A mystery for another time), age 7 born Aug 1904
For years I just took for granted that the census takers got Nicola’s age wrong because he always showed up in the same family in the census. Or did he? Returning to the Manitoba Vital Statistics site I searched for a Nick/Nicola Sidor born ~1904. Lo and behold I found a record!
The death certificate (1903-06-003460) for poor eight-year-old Nykola Sidor states his address as Stuartburn 24-1-6E. He died June 9, 1903. Unfortunately, there are no parents’ names nor next of kin listed. Born in 1894 he would have been 6 for the 1901 census. The birth certificate (1903-06-140720) for Nick Sidor also states the residence as Stuartburn 24-1-6 and the parents are Wasyl and Maria. He was born June 30, 1903. This child would have been 2 for the 1906 census and 7 for the 1911 census.
Based on this evidence I can only conclude that were TWO Nicolas in this family. Stunned at having found an actual explanation for the disparate ages in the censuses I thought how grief stricken this poor family must have been. They lost their 8 year old son, and later that month when another son was born to them they named him after his brother. How very sad. And how very confusing for the genealogist.
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Currently, for my own family history, I am working on creating a photo coffee table book to publish and distribute to family members. It will contain historical documents chronicling the stories that brought our ancestors to Canada. I also want to include photos when possible. My paternal grandparents were very outgoing, fun-loving, gregarious people who loved to laugh and entertain, make music, grow vegetables and fill their grandchildren’s bellies with all kinds of Ukrainian goodies. It’s not difficult to find pictures that reflect their personalities. My grama would cook enough food to make the dining room table groan, and she loved to laugh. After my grandmother died in 1991 I became very close to my grandfather. I’d never heard him utter more than 4 words together when my grandmother was alive. She was always clucking and giggling and telling stories so that my grampa couldn’t get a word in edgewise. Being the stoic Ukrainian he was, he found the strength to carry on “to see the world”, as he and my grandmother had long ago planned to do after they retired. After he turned 80 he travelled solo to the Ukraine, Europe, New Zealand, Australia, South America and Alaska. My maternal grandmother, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. She was cantankerous, contrary and quarrelsome. Even my earliest memories of her are negative. As I got older I began to understand why she was the way she was. She had an obvious physical deformity that probably earned her the scorn and derision of her peers growing up. She must have had to develop a thick skin in order to survive during her difficult adolescent years back in the ‘20s. It was difficult being her grand-daughter. Eventually, I learned to ignore her belittling and reproachful attitude towards me. I realized that she was just bitter about life and it had nothing to do with me. My husband and I are ecstatic to add another twig to the family tree this fall. I came across this poem by Erma Bombeck and I want to dedicate it to my wonderful, patient hubby. When the good Lord was creating fathers He started with a tall frame. Very rarely do I dream about anything related to genealogy. My dreams usually involve very confusing themes whose symbolism is best left unexplored. I have been exploring the concept of forensic genealogy, but have not been thinking actively about it for a few months. My brief foray into the field has been limited to new and strange photos where I do not know the subject, nor the time frame or the geographic area in which it was taken. The fact that I would now dream of it has me wanting to examine my collection of photos with a new, discerning eye. Perhaps I can glean some new clues from my photos. It’s worth a try! I work from home, but I still have a schedule. On my lunch break I watch my guilty day-time pleasure, Steven and Chris on CBC. It’s light, fluffy and perfect to stimulate a different part of my brain. I’m not keen on the latest fashions, nor do I run to complete the latest, greatest DIY project, but occasionally there is a little nugget of info that makes my life better. In what was my first glimpse into the world of genealogy I remember a school assignment that required us to draft our family tree as far back as we could go. At the time, I only knew my grandparents names. And, considering that one side is Ukrainian and the other side is Polish, I was drowning in long last names with lots of consonants that just didn’t belong together. At school the teacher wrote down a list of countries on the blackboard and we were instructed to write the names of our ancestors who emigrated from that country. I remember adding “At Sea” to the list and putting William Gilmore (left) as its only entry. (Yes, I have a freakish memory. But trust me, you’ll want to be my partner for Trivial Pursuit!) My classmates thought that was pretty cool. My teacher wasn’t sure. She asked me if I had proof. Um, no. Over the next few years I consulted several books at the local library about naval officers’ and pensions. I went through all of the Hart’s Army Lists. (I’m sure I went through other books, but as a teenager I didn’t know about such things as genealogy standards, so I did not keep a record of resources that generated zero results.) The bottom line was that my great-great-grandfather, James, was not listed in any of the books. Disappointed, I had to ask myself “Had he even been in the Navy? Or military service of any kind?” My hubby got tired of my complaints about our sad, pitiful scanner so, for Christmas, he surprised me with a sweet, state-of-the-art machine that can even scan 35mm film. (Early in our relationship I assured him that I prefer practical gifts over jewellry or other typical "girlie" presents. So this scanner, along with the rice cooker he gave me some years ago, reflects just how well hubby knows me. And, incidentally, how much he loves rice!) I've been giddy with excitement scanning photos since the holidays. I've only made a wee dent in my mountain of images, film negatives and certificates. But the librarian in me has already catalogued where everything in my collection will eventually "live", as well as which family members will be getting a cd of which pictures. Some people prefer to archive their old photos in photo albums or scrapbooks, favouring the authenticity of the actual texture and look of an aging print. If you are one of those people I ask you: what is the point of squirelling these precious photos away? True, you want to keep them away from sunlight and sticky fingers. But don't you want to reflect and remember the subjects? Any archivist will tell you that preserving the content is of utmost importance, not the medium. And, just in case something happens to the original, wouldn't you feel better knowing that there was a digital image - or better yet, two - to keep the memories and stories alive? If you want to flesh out your family tree, the best way to get more detail is to talk to relatives. With the holidays quickly approaching, this is the perfect time to ask some visiting relatives if you can get together in the new year to talk about family stories. There are a plethora of family stories floating around out there, and there’s ALWAYS someone who is just dying to share them with someone. Sometimes, as in the case of my maternal grandmother, those stories get exaggerated over the years, but there is almost always a kernel of information that you can use to solve a problem or add to your knowledge.
The construction of the new arena in London, Ontario a few years ago was wrought with controversy from beginning to end. The only thing standing in the way of the new, state-of-the-art multipurpose facility was a very historic block of downtown London. The Talbot Inn had stood on the same site for 150 years and was designated a historic landmark. The project got bogged down while legal battles were fought to try to save the old Inn. The markings on the gravestone always move me. Since I can’t figure out how to enlarge pictures (!) here is the transcription: |
Why a blog?Family history just fascinates me. And not just my own. There are many facts and people that have been lost to time. I really enjoy puzzles and sometimes I come across some really interesting mysteries in my genealogy travels. I'll post some of my musings here. Archives
November 2015
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