Finding Out About the Last 5 Generations of Your Family through DNA!

If you have been interested in discovering your true ethnic and racial background, there are many genetics tests you can take that offer this information. Family Tree DNA services are also used by the people doing the National Geographic Genographic project, giving them some credibility beyond many other companies.

What I found interesting, is that it doesn't matter whether the link is paternal or maternal as it uses a type of DNA classified as "autosomal" DNA, which is different from the Y-DNA (paternal side) and the mtDNA (maternal side) samples you may have had analyzed.

Both my husband, his sister, my brother and I have had our DNA tested through the National Geographic's study and it was pretty darn fascinating to see where our 'genes' resided 50,000 years ago.

Finding out about the last five generations, however, can dispel or validate those family stories and help people who may have special medical issues gain additional information.

Here is a recent advertisement outlining the services which are available for existing customers, but you can get the drift of what it offers to new customers too:

By now you may have already heard of our newest test, which has received substantial exposure in the press: the Family Finder test.

Since several people who have seen the news about this test have approached us for more information, allow me to briefly give you the key elements of the Family Finder test:

1. You may find relatives on any of your lines within the past 5 generations!
2. It doesn't matter if you are male or female; your results will be compared to anyone who has taken Family Finder!*
3. You can test “suspected relatives” including aunts, uncles, parents, half-siblings, or cousins.

Population Finder determines the percentages of different ancestries that comprise your genetics by matching your DNA data from the Family Finder test against data from multiple populations from around the world**.

Based on your DNA, Population Finder will assign your sample to 1-4 population groups, giving the corresponding percentages of your genetic makeup.

The Family Finder Test lets you:

• Sort your matches by degree of relationships.
• View the names of your matches and communicate via e-mail
• Share genealogical information with ease.
• See the “location” on your chromosomes where you match and compare your matches with each other!
• Determine the percentages of different ancestries that comprise your genetics by matching your autosomal DNA against data from multiple populations. 

Special Note: The Family Finder test requires an untouched vial of DNA. If your kit does not have an extra vial on file, we will mail a collection kit for a new DNA extraction. After ordering you will be notified by email whether we are able to use a stored vial or will be mailing a new collection kit.

*Family Finder results can only be compared with other Family Finder results. The Family Finder test uses autosomal DNA which is different from Y-DNA or mtDNA.

**You will be able to see your basic ethnic makeup, broken down by percentage. This test is based on a comparison of your Family Finder sequences to data collected by population geneticists. Populations studies consist of a number of representative populations including: European, Native American, Asian, African, etc.

RIDGEFIELD'S HERITAGE DAY: August 21st, 2010

Mark your calendars for August 21st, 2010 and come join the fun! Ridgefield will celebrate with its 10th Annual Heritage Day. Just a taste of the exhibits and activities planned so far are:

Exhibits: 
Ridgefield High School Class Pictures1930's +
Photos and Memorabilia from Ridgefield Families
Beautiful Antique Handmade Quilts
A vintage clothing collection
Antique Farm Equipment including 20 tractors, a Potato Digger, A Corn Sheller
            
Activities:
 Professional antique appraisals (nominal fee of $3 to $5)
 Pony Rides and Roping Lessons
 Book Signing by Becky Standal and Dan Kallem (Ridgefield Centennial History Book)
 Community Center History/Panel Discussion, Living History Style (25th anniversary)
             
Music:  
Music by the Opus School of Music and the Northwest Harmony Chorus

Food:   
Cotton Candy
Lion's Club Hotdogs and Hamburgers
Open House Refreshments in the Community Center and
Clark County Fair's Church Ladies and their Amazing Pies
Several local restaurants within walking distance of the park

Shopping: 
Farmers' Market
Local Art Galleries will be open and Artists will be in the Park 

Special Presentation: Heritage Community Award

Other activities: Spend the day here and enjoy our Heritage Celebration and the hometown atmosphere. While you are in the area Ridgefield Kayak Rentals can help you paddle around, or if you are a landlubber, walk the woodland trail at the Ridgefield National Wildlife Refuge. There are lovely shops and several family restaurants and they will be offering specials in your honor. (Exit 14 off the I-5 the west just 3 miles will bring you to the fun!)

NOTICE: Artists interested in exhibiting and selling their work are encouraged to do so. No fee or commission will be charged. For more information, please contact me, Elizabeth Madrigal, via my art association email: ridgefieldartassociation@gmail.com.

The Best Christmas written by Joyce Dudder

Christmas means a lot of things to lots of people. To some it means being in debt till next Christmas... spend, spend, spend. To some it means good times with family. To some it's an opportunity to be creative and make gifts, and still to others, the opportunity to make money.

People remember Jesus, the Christ child; Santa and his reindeer, and kids pray for snow.

I learned early that Christmas is about giving... not about getting.

When I was 13 my Dad died... leaving my Mom with five kids (ages 15 years to 18 months) to raise. Three months later, Christmas was upon us. Financial affairs were not settled and we had little money.  My Dad had changed jobs shortly before he died and no longer had life insurance. Then Social Security was slow in coming.

My Mom gave my brother and me each $10 to buy presents for the others kids and each other... not for her.

A neighbor took us shopping at a big store in Portland. They had everything and it was all so expensive, especially from a 13-year-old perspective.

Our neighbor suggested we pool our money to get better gifts. It was a great idea and we went for it!

When it came time to split up and buy for each other, we couldn't do it. Instead, we decided to pool the rest of the money and buy something for our Mom. It wasn't anything we planned ahead, but we "knew" it  was the right thing to do. It was our Christmas present to ourselves.

Again, with help from our neighbor, we searched for sales. We found a toaster for only $10. Boy, were we excited!! We had enough to buy it!!!

Thirty years later, I can still remember that Christmas... and how I felt. My Mom cried when she opened that toaster but we were so happy.

I learned a valuable lesson that year... one I've never forgotten. It is better to give than to receive. Since that time, I've bought and received many gifts worth much more than $10 or even $20, but that Christmas was special.

For me it was the best Christmas.

The Best Christmas was written in 1994 by Joyce Dudder who can be reached via email at fishnut1949@aol.com.

Joyce Dudder's Memories of Ridgefield 1963 to 1966

In 1963, Ridgefield was like a foreign country to me. We had moved a lot due to conflicts my parents had, but I had only gone to 2 schools, even w/ the moves. Now, my parents were divorced. One day we were living in Battleground. That night we moved and the next day I woke up in a new house, a new city and had to start a new school. I was in 7th grade.

I had regressed. I went from a junior high with each class in a different room to grade school and recess. At the time, the 7th grade was with 1-6 and the 8th grade was in (mostly) the basement of the High School. After pointing out where I lived, I learned from others to say, “We live in the Barn on the hill”. It was a landmark. I was told that it was really a barn that had been converted into a house. It was large and with my mom and us five kids, better than the two-bedroom house we’d been in. My bedroom took up half of the upstairs. I couldn’t even fill half of the space.

The best part of the house was the wonderful view. We could look on all of the town, and all the way to the river and beyond to the west. The kitchen had a wall of windows. I loved to stand at the counter and look out. It was the nicest house we had ever lived in.

“The Hill” was the ritzy part of town. The Sonneys lived next door. They had a beautiful home with a swimming pool. Beyond them were the Wrays. Lorene Wray was the secretary at the high school. She always was gracious and friendly. Her daughter, Vicky, was a cheerleader. I was in awe of her. I got to go into her room one time when I went to their house. It was all feminine and lovely. Across the street on the “upside” of us, lived the Walter Baty’s (of Baty’s insurance). Furstenbergs (of First Independent Bank) lived at the end of the road and across the street that went down to Main street.

There was another house on the hill. Later in the year, the Eaves family moved into it. The kids were about the same ages as my brothers and sisters and me. David Eaves became my best friend. Being both fairly new to the area, we bonded. Though he may not remember, they moved in just before 1964. The reason I know is because in September 1963, my dad, age 37 died of a massive heart attack. In the attached story, “My Best Christmas” Avis Eaves was the neighbor who took my brother and me shopping. The Eaves were wonderful neighbors to us.

When President Kennedy was shot and killed on November 22, I was already numb from the death of my father. I was in science class when we got the news of the President. Was it Mr. Maguire or Mr Stevens? I know it was the classroom downstairs on the far northwest corner.

I loved walking to school. As an eighth grader, we were relegated to the basement of the school mostly. I liked learning and classes were fun. In those days if we had money, my girlfriends and I would occasionally go down to the local café for burger and fries. You had to be quick. If you weren’t one of the first in line, you wouldn’t get your food in time to get back to school before lunch was over. I remember the short, fat, cripsy fries that they served. Verna Rawson, Christy Schlamm and I would usually share. Sometimes it was on the run back to school. Sometimes we would stop at the variety store on the way and buy gum or candy.

The first thing that greeted you as you walked into the High School building was the apple machine. Five cents bought a nice cold, Red delicious apple. The office was on the left. Mrs. Wray was always there with a smile. Mr. (Wayne) Ball was the principal. I remember his moustache. I heard that there was conflict with older boys who challenged him about the “no facial hair” policy for students and other policies. I never had to face him in that way.

During those days our activities were going to school games (football or baseball) or going to the skating rink. The rink was on the road to La Center. Lots of kids from Ridgefield skated there. I never was a good skater and spent more time on my backside on the floor.

In 1965, we were unable to buy the Barn and had to move out near Duluth. Each year since I was ten, I picked strawberries, raspberries and beans to earn money for school clothes. That year I outdid myself and picked 12 flats of strawberries in one day. I could hardly move when I got home and my back was so sore. My friend, Gayle Cousins and I decided that we should go to work in the cannery instead. I stayed w/ Gayle in Ridgefield that summer and we worked at the cannery in town during berry season. It was 12-hour shifts. We made something like $1.16 per hour. That was a lot of money to us. My family worked the bean fields that year (mom was a field boss). We earned enough money to help my mom pay some bills, pay off the car, buy a stereo and a radio. We still had enough left for school clothes.

The next year, we had to move again. This time it was north of town near Verna Rawson and Jeannie Currie. Chris Mongrain lived a little further away, but in the same area. My mom went to work at the nursing home in Ridgefield. Social Security was just not enough to live on.

In 1966, I quit school and got married. That ended my time in Ridgefield. My mother, Bernice (Dudder) Jehnsen, got remarried to Roy Jehnsen in 1967 and moved to his home near Yacolt. He passed away in 2001. He was a wonderful husband, father and grandfather. But, that is another story…. My mom still lives at 23000 Jehnsen Road where she has been for 43 years.

Until some time in the 1990s I never even set foot in Ridgefield. I had moved to back to Snohomish county where I lived as a young child. While visiting family, I drove to Ridgefield. The Barn and the Eaves house were both gone. New houses had been build that were newer and nicer. But, the patina on my memories is still rich. I look back on those times but not with great pain. It was a part of life.

I got courageous and attended the 40th reunion of the class of 1968. Most of my classmates hadn’t even remembered that I didn’t graduate w/ them! Since then, I have learned what a great group of people I went to school with. The small town, Ridgefield, experience is one that I savor.

Joyce Dudder can be reached via email at fishnut1949@aol.com.

Do-it-yourself Living History Interview

There are some great ideas out there, and one of them is being promoted by a company called Story Corps. It is a national organization and offers self-help and family starter kits for rent to teach people how to record family histories orally. It is somewhat expensive - you might want to buy your own equipment - but the point is, it gets you started. Here is a quote from their Do-It-Yourself page:

"Record interviews to honor the lives of the people you love, to create your own archive, and to celebrate holidays and family events, such as Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, or graduation. The stories you collect will become treasured keepsakes that grow more valuable with each passing generation."

I couldn't agree more, candidly, as I started this project with this exact sentiment in mind. Your story may interest me and future generations, but the most likely fans of your living history will be those from future generations in your own family.

So often I hear older people say to their friends, children or grandchildren, "I wish you had known my mother (or father, or brother). You would have loved her (him, etc.).  And she would have loved you too!"

Or a relative says, "You remind me so much of your grandmother! She had the same beautiful smile."

I never met my maternal grandmother as she died when my mother was only 18. My grandfather remarried my step-grandmother and they were together for almost forty years, but he would always hug me when he saw me and say, "You know why I love you? Because you remind me so much of my wife!" Of course, it was a bit mortifying that my other grandmother had to bear witness to this I thought at the time, but at one point that grandmother lived with my husband and me. She told me that she was just a girl when she met my grandfather. He was her brother's good friend in the police department. 

This man I knew as Uncle Gene Tobin, who was probably the most wonderful man I have ever met. He was kind and understanding, had a great sense of humor, was beloved when he was the Chief of Police in Everett, Massachusetts and after retirement - because he was so social - became involved with the security department at the Museum of Natural History in Boston. All I remember is taking my kids there when little baby chicks were hatching from an incubator and were on display. Luckily I was tall enough to see over the heads of all the small children who were mobbing the display and could lift mine up to see too.

I am sure my children don't remember, they were small then, but I do. I was happy to see him if it was only for ten minutes.  Everybody was. And my step-grandmother, Joanne, was never jealous of my grandmother either. She was a professional woman - which in those days meant a secretary for John Hancock Insurance in Boston - and she had opted not to have children when Mr. Right hadn't come along early in her life. By the time she met my grandfather she was in her late thirties and my grandfather was a rather tragic figure with thousands of dollars in medical bills from my bio-grandmother's 11 year battle with cancer.

My mother had been jealous of losing her father's attention when he remarried - she was in her second year of college, I might add - and disliked her grandmother intensely because of it. When I adored her, my mother told me she was a 'flapper and wore bright red lipstick'. My mother wore bright red lipstick, too, but somehow she didn't get the connection.  Flappers?  I thought they looked so cool with their beads, short hair, hats and flouncy dresses. That made my grandmother so exciting, as I knew her as an old woman, of course.

Grandma Joanne ended up living with my husband and me for a while when we lived overseas. learned from my grandmother that she wasn't jealous of my bio-grandmother. She'd been 12 years younger than my grandfather and that was a different lifetime that had nothing to do with her. They were happily married a long time and had a good life together. He deserved it and so did she.


It was sad to see this woman who had been so full of life and expectations lose her mental faculties, as it was the first experience I had as an adult with death.  My father died three months later, which was a terribly distressing time for all of us. I still think back and wish I had spent more time with him. How I wish I had asked him about his life, his dreams, his political beliefs, but I was too self-centered at the time, like many young (and old) people. I
I hope you write your stories or record them or preserve them on video. You won't regret it.

Finding Belonging through Genealogy

We understand that we come into this world and leave it alone. In between is the tricky part and at times we long for that sense that we are part of something greater than ourselves. I am not sure if this is a developmental stage in adulthood, something we didn't 'finish' during adolescence, an understanding of our need for each other or something else. This need for acceptance and belonging seems universal, however, and perhaps is the glue that can bind us together as humans.

Some of us satisfy this need through tradition, religion, a political party, devotion to a community or cause, the arts, good friends or our nuclear family. Others may attempt to silence the longing through addiction and destructive behaviors. After a certain age, however, it becomes clear for most of us that some desires cannot be fulfilled with anything material or through another person.

Learning about my ancestors and what I call my 'tribe' has always seemed to provide a sense of belonging for me.  It keeps me from feeling too isolated from humanity as it provides the sense of place, time and belonging I receive from knowing who my people were. In fact, I can imagine some of my ancestors were quite terrified as they boarded the Mayflower and anticipated the danger. Others would have been like my seafaring father, thrilled with the idea of a grand adventure.

When my ancestor (pictured above in a bronze statue), Jean Nicolet, made the voyage to 'New France' as a 20-year-old man in 1618, where did he find the bravery to accept an assignment from Governor Champlain? This great-grandfather lived with the Native Americans and learned their language and a way of life that had nothing in common with his childhood in France. By all accounts he was a virtuous and pious man, and great-grandfather Nicolet was as loyal to France as he was to the Roman Catholic Church. He also was able to adapt well enough to live independently among the Nipissing tribe from 1620 to 1628, but how did he end up having a daughter, my ancestor, with a Nipissing woman named Giizis (my 10th great-grandmother on that side)?

What made him reunite with this daughter later and bring her back to Quebec City? When she was 15 the records show he married her off  to another Frenchman, by the name of Jean LeBlanc. When this 10th great-grandfather Nicolet married Marguerite Couillard in 1637, where was his first 'wife' Giizis? Had he retrieved his daughter because her mother died, or was his legal marriage to a Frenchwoman the only one that mattered in his eyes or the eyes of his church? I have more research to do if I want to know, but there may not be any recorded answers. The Jesuits did some biographical work on this great-grandfather, but I doubt if they would have wanted to record much about his dalliance with Giizis.  Then again, I may be wrong, so I am keeping my French-English dictionary handy and have bookmarked the Google Translator site. Armed as well with that old French grammar still rolling around in my head, I can read most of the historical records.

I know that great-grandfather Nicolet also 'discovered' Wisconsin in 1635, and there are monuments and murals in his honor there. Then he had a few children with Marguerite as well, but he died in 1642 in a canoe drowning. It was not because it was particularly treacherous - although it was during a storm - but because he did not know how to swim. This is completely weird to me, as everyone in my family learned to swim by 4 or 5 years old at the latest. It was a matter of pride and honor. We were seacoasters, you see. Still, I don't remember my mother swimming much, but I think she was too concerned about her hair, an obsession I surely inherited.:) My mother had the most beautiful mane of hair. My husband and daughters, who also have that 'movie star' thick, beautiful, shiny, wavy hair, look much more like her than I do. Ah well, the hair will show up in future generations again if we're lucky.

There are so many stories of my female ancestors on that French Canadian side that I have only recently uncovered. One ancestor married a French Quebec soldier and spent her honeymoon in a canoe with him and his regiment when he was being transferred to Detroit. How this woman coped with all these Frenchman - there was even a murder that occurred on the trip - rapids, the canoe, the Native Americans they encountered, the culture gap and the challenges of pioneer life is beyond me. Yet she had two daughters while they were stationed there and the four of them returned to Quebec seemingly happy and unharmed.

Two other great-grandmothers, a widowed Frenchwoman and daughter, were 'Filles de Roi', or 'daughters of the king', part of 800 to 1000 Frenchwomen sponsored by King Louis between 1663 and 1673 when he wanted to prove his claim on Quebec by showing growing populated settlements. He selected women from three classes, they were sent to Quebec and the French soldiers were allowed to propose to the women.  In France most marriages were still arranged by families, so the offer to these women to select their own husbands must have been of great appeal. The legal age for women to marry at the time was 12, with boys held back until 14. The Frenchwomen in Quebec managed to almost double the population within ten years, so it was a very good investment on the King's part to pay for their passage and dowries.

I have a tiny concept of what it felt like to be in an 'alien' land with two small children and my husband, as I lived out of the country for three years when I was in my thirties. Of course, we didn't take two or three months to sail across an ocean and we were able to fly back and see family when it was important. The msot inconvenient thing I experienced was a shortage once in a while of American-style frozen vegetables. We lived in Mexico City while there and I learned to speak Spanish, the art of Mexican cooking and so much about Latin culture (and my own by contrast) that my life was truly enriched.  I also came to appreciate what it means to be a loving, supportive family, in a culture that revers aunts, uncles, nieces and nephews and cousins as much as mom, dad, grandma and grandpa. After a spare-the-rod-spoil-the-child, strict New England upbringing, I was able to choose a different style of child-rearing for my own family and that alone enriched my life more than I could ever describe in a blog.

My biggest and most dangerous adventure occurred when I was 19, although is pale by comparison to my forebearers. I moved 3,000 miles away from my hometown by myself. Going from a small town in New England to Los Angeles was not only culture shock but probably an incredibly stupid thing to do as unprepared as I was. Smog was a horrible shock, as was the dried-out, brown appearance of the city by late September. As a silly example, I was naive enough to think that California was just like the Beach Boys' songs. It was expensive to ship things in those days, so I hadn't packed an umbrella, a raincoat or any winter clothes. When that first 'moonsoon' hit in January a few months later, I got the drenching of my life. I also learned how to do a little research before I gave into impulse.

There are some things we learn only through experience, of course, but others from our ancestors. May you find your wisdom where your destiny leads you, whether that is back in time or forward in life.

First Meeting Summary of Ridgefield Living History Project

Just for fun I am showing the picture of a baby bat who decided to move into my patio umbrella. Ridgefield wildlife has no boundaries, folks.:)

Anyway, our first meeting was attended by a few people, but not as many as I expected.  Present were a well-known blogger and living history buff interested in doing a WWII project, a heritage committee member, a lovely mother and daughter of a family interested in being contributors, a town sage, a retired museum curator also on the cemetery committee, a nice man in the investigative/organizational stage for a similar project for Battle Ground and me. Not what I would call a crowd, folks.

I would also like to publicly thank Kay Stringfellow, owner of the Pickled Heron Gallery, who donated the use of her lovely banquet hall so that we could have our meeting.  She's a huge community supporter, by the way, so please make sure you frequent her frame shop and art supply store. 

Anyway, I publicized the meeting pretty well, but I didn't want to over-promote it.  Candidly, I wanted only those with a burning passion of some sort to show up. Selling people on the idea was not my impulse, as I wanted to find like souls who find this sort of historical treasure hunt incredibly meaningful.  Our town is small, but our area has about 15,000 people in it. Granted, I could have chosen a bad night - there were many other things going on all over Ridgefield, as usual - but we all make time for what we find compelling.

So I have not yet decided how I will continue. There were some territorial issues some brought to the meeting, others had a personal interest in a particular area of the project only, and my idea of collaboration did not seem to resonate with more than three of the attendees.

My original community-building enterprise was envisioned to bring all these groups together, and to add a major element, newcomers.  This would be defined as anyone who has been born, lived or come here only sometime in the last 50 years (starting on January 1, 1960 and anytime until present). After the meeting I would expect this 'Newcomers' segment will probably be the thrust of what I will be doing in the future. The Heritage Committee, of course, will continue its efforts with its target group. I wish them great future success although accept there is no interest on their part in collaboration at this time.

As there is no interest to my knowledge in the Newcomers either, I should not be stepping on toes or duplicating what is already being done as I pursue that avenue.  It will provide my effort with plenty of wonderful living histories to collect and preserve. Of course, there may be some crossovers on both sides, as some people may choose to contribute to one effort or the other. That's certainly not a problem for me.

The photo grid project will be mothballed for now. There was no one interested in that project at all. Some members expressed concerns about the idea of people snapping shots of their homes, although I explained the photos would always be from public access only. Then again, it can be difficult to contain enthusiasm, so one has to respect this viewpoint as valid.


This may be something the photographers in town may want to do, or perhaps it could be a contest used as a fundraiser for Birdfest or Overlook Park as it will take something to get that one going.  We have such a beautiful refuge, all those river and lake banks, the woods and territorial views.  It would be absolutely wonderful if we could get our population snapping shots of their back or front yards and emailing them all to the blog or some other archive vehicle.
 
The historical society and museum seemed to be something that attendees felt was a good long-term goal, although the difficulties of getting there are obvious. Mainly money, fundraising, etc. Certainly, this would be a long-term goal.  The eventual museum might want to be independent or affiliated in some way with the Clark County Historical Museum, but this is a future vision. Archiving is expensive, of course, but a rotating or active, temporary series of exhibits would seem to be the most logical with 'borrowed items'. One attendee suggested she would like to see the mammoth tusk that was found in Ridgefield returned to Ridgefield.  I agree, as fair is fair, after all. That cannot happen, of course, until we have a way to exhibit or store this kind of fossil.

Well, friends, onward and upward. Not all ideas are embraced as enthusiastically as I would like, and so I will march to the sound of my own drum for a while.  I had intended to pursue this in a more dramatic way if there was community support.  As there does not seem to be a burning desire for leadership in this area, I will paddle along solo. In the interim, anything that people want to post on the blog, please send it to me at: ridgefieldlivinghistory@gmail.com  If you don't have email, call me at 360-887-4530 and I'll arrange to pick it up or give you my mailing address.

Family Genealogy & Federal Assistance

Genealogy has been one of my hobbies for quite some time.  It can be an expensive endeavor if you try to follow your family's path through history with trips and acquiring certified copies of documents.  An easier, perhaps more accessible way to find your ancestral path is through some of the free sites offered by the United States Government. There are many archives now on-line with collections that might help you with your research.

These links below are also on our Resources Page, but this personal genealogy account was recently posted on the U.S. Government Gab blog.  http://blog.usa.gov/roller/govgab/entry/family_genealogy

"My mom used to tell her school friends that she was related to the actor, Roy Rogers. She wasn't. As a kid I used to tell people I was half German, half English, half Irish, and half American. Knowing these two things, you could extrapolate that my family tree contains liars and people that can't do fractions.


On my dad's side, it was believed that my first ancestor in America was born in Germany, because he spoke German. Some relatives said he came to America with a brother and that they were from Frankfurt, Germany. However, these details turned out to be incorrect.  Within a short generational span, no one in the family spoke German and the family history was lost.

My sister, Paula, the “Nancy Drew” of the family, decided to do some research because she was interested in the details of our ancestry. When she told me she wanted to check into thisI suggested she start with the USA.gov Family History and Genealogy page. It is a great launch point with all kinds of links to other resources.

She then went to the National Archives website. The National Archives has a terrific Genealogists/Family Historian web section. They have guidance on how to start your family history search, search-able databases, publications, and a list of independent researchers you can hire to help you with family history search.

U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services website. You can make requests for USCIS to search its historical indices for file citations related to particular individual. From that information you can request copies of specific records. Check the site for the fees for index searches and copies of documents.

If you are of Native American ancestry, you may want to go to the Department of Interior to trace your Indian ancestry. They have guidance on determining if you are eligible for tribal membership.

Although my sister was able to obtain additional information about my great-grandfather, it was only dates and locations. She didn't learn what motivated my great-grandfather to leave Prussia, why he chose to settle in Iowa, how he felt passing through Ellis Island, or what his circumstances were as an immigrant. Those are the types of details that can only be learned through the intimate sharing of family stories. While you are conducting your search into the past, don't forget to pass on your family stories and share your history with your children."

 Have fun!

Don't Forget! First Meeting this Tuesday (May 25th) at 7:00 p.m.!

Just a quick reminder that our first organizational and information meeting for the Ridgefield Living History Project is scheduled for this Tuesday, May 25th, 2010 at 7:00 p.m. at the Pickled Heron Gallery in Ridgefield, Washington.

If you are Ridgefield-curious and haven't actually been to downtown Ridgefield before, here are the directions from the Interstate 5:

From Portland to Ridgefield:

• Take the I-5 going north
• Exit at Pioneer Street, which is Exit 16.
• Turn left (west) as you and stay on Pioneer.
• When you hit the Round-About keep going straight, still staying on Pioneer.
• It will curve around and go down and up a hill, but keep going straight.
• By the way, the speed limit is 25 miles per hour. (Go faster if you feel it is your civic duty to support the police department through speeding tickets. I'm sure they could use the money.)
• As you come into downtown, you will see a few number Avenues.
• Proceed until you come to View Ridge and Pioneer.
• The Pickled Heron Gallery and Banquet Facility will be at the end of the block on the corner of 4th and Pioneer on your right.

From Seattle to Ridgefield:

• Take the Interstate 5 south.
• Exit at Pioneer Avenue (Exit 14)
• Turn right (west) onto Pioneer
• Follow directions from above.
• When you hit the Round-About keep going straight, still staying on Pioneer.
• It will curve around and go down and up a hill, but keep going straight.
• By the way, the speed limit is 25 miles per hour. (Go faster if you feel it is your civic duty to support the police department through speeding tickets. I'm sure they could use the money.
• As you come into downtown, you will see a few number Avenues.
• Proceed until you come to View Ridge and Pioneer - slow down here as in school zones limit is 20mph.
• The Pickled Heron Gallery and Banquet Facility will be at the end of the block on the corner of 4th and Pioneer on your right.  The address is 418 Pioneer Street, Ridgefield, WA 98642.

See you all Tuesday!

For info:  Elizabeth Madrigal  360-887-4530 or email: ridgefieldlivinghistoryproject@gmail.com.

Invitation to Our 1st Organizational Meeting: Tuesday, May 25th @ 7:00 pm

A big hello to all of you and just a reminder that our first organizational and information meeting is scheduled for next week.  Here are the details:

RIDGEFIELD LIVING HISTORY PROJECT

WHEN:      Tuesday, May 25th, 2010 @ 7:00 pm

WHERE:    Pickled Heron Gallery, 418 Pioneer Street, Ridgefield, WA 98642

DURATION:  7:00 p.m. to 8:30 p.m.

PURPOSE: 

• Introduce the concept of  an on-going living history project and what ours will entail intially as well as collaborate on forming a vision for the future of the project. 
• Create an email list of interested people
• Sign up participants, volunteers, etc.
• Form a collaboration with the other historical preservation groups in town
• Start a genealogy workshop group, gauge interest in free genealogy & research classes for participants
• Give groups like the Heritage Committee and the Cemetery Preservation committees the opportunity to solicit new volunteers and members
• Gauge interest in forming a 501(c)(3) to eventually fund and create a historical museum in Ridgefield either independently or as a branch of the Clark County Historical Museum
• To meet each other, share fellowship and see if this idea has any "legs".

INFORMATION: 

Please call Elizabeth Madrigal at 360-887-4530 or email:  ridgefieldlivinghistoryproject@gmail.com

IF YOU CAN'T ATTEND BUT ARE INTERESTED IN THIS PROJECT, PLEASE:

Please let Elizabeth know via email or telephone or follow us on Facebook for a summary of the meeting. 

WHAT IS APPROPRIATE FOR THIS EFFORT?

Except for anything that could get us in trouble or hurt someone - such as slander, libel, gossip and those kinds of no-nos - the project is pretty open. Any family stories, histories, photos of people or the area are welcome regardless of whether you lived here your entire life or moved here yesterday. We'd love pictures of old farms and e Stories can be about anything that is related to your life or the lives of the people in your life.  Please do not send original photos without first contacting Elizabeth, as these may be ruined or lost in the mail.  We will not be archiving anything at this point, but simply scanning and returning anything you provide.  Hand-delivery is even better (I or a volunteer can always pick them up), or just emailing them from home or a scanner/copier at our local copier shop.

IS ANYTHING POSTED YET?   Yes, we have our first posting.  Some of you may remember Avis Alice (Reid) Eaves who lived here with her family in the mid-1960's. Avis passed away last year and her son and daughter have supplied pictures of Avis in her Ridgefield garden, her memorial posting and their contact information for cards or letters.  This is the first of what I hope will be many stories of the lives of people who have graced Ridgefield with their presence and been 'graced back' in return.

PLEASE JOIN US!

         OR GO TO OUR BLOG:  http://ridgefieldlivinghistoryproject.blogspot.com/

   OR GO TO OUR FACEBOOK PAGE:  http://www.facebook.com/posted.php?id=104465476259928

MY HOME, RIDGEFIELD, a Poem by Avis Alice (Reid) Eaves 1964

I received this email today from David Eaves. I am posting it in its entirety and am excited that we have our first oral history contribution.  Thank you, David, for sharing your treasure with us.

Avis Alice (Reid) Eaves
Born March 20, 1923 - Died January 8, 2009

"My name is David Eaves. My family lived in Ridgefield in 1964. We lived high on a hill overlooking all the Ridgefield valley. This view inspired my Mom to write this poem about Ridgefield.  My mom passed away last year and I would like to donate this poem to your town historical group in her memory." 

My Home, Ridgefield

                     By Avis A. (Reid) Eaves

I’m in love with Ridgefield town.

So peaceful and so small.

Its building memories renown,

And I treasure each and all.

For I live high on top of a hill,

In the land of rivers and trees.

And rise up early at my will,

To see the sights like these.

Majestic mountains in the east,

Snow-capped and standing high.

Glittering light shine in the west,

And a river boat goes by.

This is my town, my very own,

My heart and soul, they call it home.

***

Memorial Services for Avis:

We are gathered here in the sight of God, and amongst loved ones and friends to remember the life of our mother, a grandmother, and a great grand mother.

To remember the life of Avis, I would like to take you back to before Avis was even born. For to know the character of who Avis was, you must also understand the roots of the parents who brought her into this world and the surroundings that formed her into the loving, caring, nurturing person we call mom.

Avis was the youngest sibling of Charles Reid, Sr. Charles was a pioneer settler in Oklahoma during the time of the American migration into the mid-west. Charles Reid was a young man in Kansas when the Cherokee Outlet was opened for settlement in Oklahoma on September 16, 1893. He and his neighbor friends decided to make the run on horseback. They started at the state line of Kansas south of Hunnewell and arrived at a site north of Tonkawa Oklahoma. As Avis had told the story to us, Charles staked his claim in a valley where it was a foggy misty morning and when the air had cleared mid-day, he noticed that someone else had also staked the same section of land. Charles simply picked up his stake and relinquished the claim to the other man. Avis said that her dad noticed that the other man had a bigger gun and he didn’t think it wise to argue with him. The following spring, Charles did purchase a relinquished stake near what is now known as Deer Creek, Oklahoma. Charles was a bachelor on his homestead farm for a number of years, and as Avis tells it, he was quite the eligible bachelor. His friends were always trying to match him up with some young single woman by hosting parties and inviting all the eligible young women in the area. In the summer of 1906, Florence O. Robinson came to visit her sister and attended one of these parties. A romance started soon after and on November 27, 1907 they were married. As the years went by Charles and Florence had six children. Avis being the youngest of them all.

Now Avis lived in a time of our history where she experienced a worldwide depression, a dust bowl, a world war. This generation of time has been characterized as the “Greatest Generation”. There is a popular book written that describes this generation as “the generation who grew up in the Great Depression of 1929, who came of age in World War II, and following the war shaped the world thru the greatest times of national growth and innovation. This is a time in Avis’s life where personal sacrifice was common place. These times shaped her life and built character of one who was to influence each us here today. It was this generation that had grown accustomed to personal sacrifice, honesty, integrity and caring for their neighbor. This attitude of personal sacrifice for the benefit of those around you was developed within them from their own experiences as they lived life in the era known as the greatest generation. I recall Mom discussing these times as I wondered how they were able to endure such great hardships as the depression, the dust bowl era, and the war, and their willingness to sacrifice of themselves as they pursued their own way thru life. They did it because they knew it was the right thing to do. As Avis once stated, ” we did not think of ourselves as sacrificing but simply we were living life the best way we knew how”. This attitude of sacrifice and doing the right thing was an integral part of their daily living and became a strong trait that was instilled in each of us thru Avis nurturing ways.

In 1942, Avis being a young woman of 19 was attending a local community college. She met a young man, Leland Edward Eaves of Fairfax, Oklahoma, who was also attending the same community college. They dated for some time even though Avis was in love with her high school sweetheart and had fully expected to marry him. Lee, however, was persistent in perusing Avis’s heart despite her many refusals when Lee would propose to her. Lee finally won her over thru numerous proposals which concluded with the possibility that Lee might join the Marines. This news was too much for Avis to bear and her heart revealed that this was the man whom she would spend her life with. In February 1942, Avis and Lee left northern Oklahoma to get married in Oklahoma City and start a life together. It wasn’t long before they discovered that Avis was pregnant with their 1st child. By June of 1942, the news of bringing a child into the world was received with the concerns that there was no way they could make it on Lee’s current salary of $90 per month. Being that this was a wartime era, the news of good jobs in the shipyards of the Pacific Northwest led Lee and Avis to set out for Portland, Oregon. Upon arriving in Portland, they only had $10 in their pockets. They rented an apartment for $7 a month, leaving them only $3 to survive until Lee could get a job and get paid.

Lee quickly got a welding job at the shipyard and they were able to rent a small house in the countryside near Woodburn, Oregon. Shortly after, their 1st son was born. Leland Edward Eaves Jr. was born on September 17, 1942. The baby was born pre-mature and Avis was sacred to be raising a new born baby. Shortly after Lee Jr. was born, notice to appear for induction into the Army was received. Being that Lee was from Fairfax, Oklahoma, he was required to return there to be drafted into the U.S. Army. Avis, Leland, and Lee Jr. boarded a train and returned to Oklahoma.

Avis Eaves remembrance set in Puerto Rico (Obituary)

Avis Alice (Reid) Eaves, formerly of Deer Creek, Okla. Died in Thornton Colorado on Thursday, Jan. 8th 2009.


Avis is the last surviving daughter of Charles and Florence (Robinson) Reid of Deer Creek, known as being a pioneer settler of Cherokee Strip, Oklahoma in 1893. Avis was 85 when she died. In her life, she was a devoted loving wife, mother and grandmother. She was married to Leland Edward Eaves of Fairfax, Oklahoma for 48 years. Avis is survived by 7 children, Leland Edward Eaves Jr., Charles Lamar Eaves , Deanna Janell (DeLong) Eaves, David Reid Eaves, Jay Clifton Eaves, Laura Ellen (Ballard) Eaves and Earnest Lee Eaves. Avis and Lee were proud loving grandparents of 15 grandchildren and many great grandchildren. Avis will be put rest next to her loving husband, Leland Edward Eaves Sr., in Ponce, Puerto Rico at a private family memorial service on March 21, 2009. The family may be contacted by writing David R. Eaves, 26802 Via Zaragosa, Mission Viejo, Ca. 92691

Where Were You When Mt. Saint Helens Erupted on May 18, 1980?

Everyone in Washington, particularly in Southwest part of the state, remembers Mt. Saint Helens. As a matter of fact, although I wasn't living here at the time, my mother-in-law was and actually watched it erupt form her backyard in Ridgefield.  She always had a few dogs as pets, and that particular morning she was calling them in so she could leave for work.

Her Brittany spaniel, Ricky, and Pepe, the most gigantic red-haired shephard (but the sweetest dog I have ever met), had been barking and acting strangely.  She stayed a little longer, concerned there was some sort of wild animal on her acreage. A feisty person only about 4'10" or perhaps even shorter, she was terrified of snakes.  This kept her from walking anywhere, even on her own land, as she would only step on mowed grass.

As she gazed out over her land towards the creek that ran on the northeast side, Mt. Saint Helens erupted. Like many other eyewitnesses, she said it was the most amazing thing she had ever seen. As an asthmatic, however, she, her car and her air filtration and housing systems were not quite as thrilled as the ash fell on everything. (She saved a jar of ash she collected from her backyard and gifted it to our daughter shortly after we moved here in 1992.) Luckily for Ridgefield, the plume blew east before it surrounded the globe but there are a lot of stories.  Ask any 30 year Ridgefield resident, and they'll tell you quite a tale.

Where were you when Mt. Saint Helens erupted?  Comment here or bring your story to our first meeting on May 25th.  (For info, email: ridgefieldlivinghistoryproject@gmail.com or check our Ridgefield Living History Project fan page on Facebook.)

Here is my story, first published on Gather.com, about the first time I went to the Mt. Saint Helens area:

After living an hour and a half away from an active volcano for fourteen years, I finally committed to go on a day trip to Mount Saint Helens. Lots of family and friends had visited from the East Coast and even other countries over the years, but I designated my husband as 'solo' tour guide.

Why? Because I was just positive I would be bored. I also associated sight-seeing with things like Disneyland (which I learned to despise because of the lines and the cheesy souvenirs).

Local road trips meant two things to me - restrictions on coffee and dirty bathrooms - so I was faking my enthusiasm that summer morning when we told our teenage granddaughter she was going to see a wonderland.

Ironically, she was faking her interest as well, as she likes to come up here and kick back. We all knew that her parents, however, expected her to do something meaningful while she was here other than learn how to make Swiss Enchiladas (green tomatillo sauce and chicken are her favorites). So there we were.

I dragged myself to the car bracing for the worst experience ever and suppressed my instinct as I strapped on the seat belt to whine, "Are we there yet?"

My husband was excited and had charged his camera battery the day before, and carried a back-up just in case. When we got to the first lookout point and saw the elk herd, I was impressed in spite of myself. By the time we got to the mountain itself, I was in love with this most fabulous of day trips.

Going to Mt. Saint Helens is like finding that you just drove to the moon. It is so different from what you expect and so magnificent that you feel like you are in some kind of sci-fi movie. People who go there talk about it like it is a spiritual experience, because... it is!

Every time I see anything about volcanoes, and specifically Mt. Saint Helens, I am again reminded how powerful nature is and how fragile human life can be. At our distance from the volcano we are privileged to be spectators without risk but that doesn't make the spectacle of that much power any less magnificent.

HERE'S WHAT NASA HAD TO SAY TODAY:

This following information and accompanying images are courtesy of NASA. This information was posted on their site in acknowledgement of the Mt.Saint Helen's May 18, 1980 eruption's 30 year anniversary.

In mid-March 1980, a series of small earthquakes began shaking the ground at Mt. St. Helens in southern Washington. Over the next two months, the northern flank of the mountain was deformed by a large bulge—a sign that upwelling magma was pushing up on the rock from below. On the morning of May 18, an earthquake caused the entire north flank of the volcano to collapse in a massive avalanche. Relieved of the overlying pressure, the volcano ejected a blast of rocks, ash, gas, and steam that blew down and buried several hundred square miles of forest.

This trio of false-color Landsat satellite images is part of a 30-year time series documenting the destruction and recovery at Mt. St. Helens. Vegetation is red, bare rock and volcanic debris are gray, and clear water is dark blue. (In the complete time series, images from 1984 onward are in photo-like natural color.) The 1979 view (top) shows the snow-covered summit of the perfectly shaped stratovolcano, and the mixture of protected forest (darkest red, north of the volcano), agricultural land (lighter reds), and logging clear cuts (patchwork of squares at image right) that surrounded the mountain.

The image from September 24, 1980 (middle), shows the devastation of the May 18 eruption. The northern flank of the mountain collapsed, producing the largest landslide in recorded history. The avalanche buried 14 miles (23 kilometers) of the North Fork Toutle River with an average of 150 feet (46 meters)—but in places up to 600 feet (180 meters)—of rocks, dirt, and trees. The blast spread rock and ash (gray in the images) over 230 square miles (600 square kilometers). A raft of dead trees floats across Spirit Lake. Volcanic mudflows (lahars) poured down rivers and gullies around the intact flanks.

Three decades later, the image from September 10, 2009, shows the recovery in the blast zone. Most of the landscape within the blast zone has at least a tinge of red, meaning vegetation has recolonized the ground. The flanks of the volcano itself are still bare, as is a broad expanse north of the volcano called the Pumice Plain. Directly in the path of the landslide and several pyroclastic flows, this area has been slowest to recover.

Ground surveys, however, have found even this seemingly barren area is coming back to life: the first plant to re-appear was a prairie lupine, which can take nitrogen—a critical plant nutrient—straight from the air rather than from the soil. These small wildflowers begin the crucial task of rebuilding the soil and attracting insects and herbivores. This process is underway on the Pumice Plain, even though it is not yet visible from space.

References:

Bishop, J., Fagan, W., Schade, J., & Crisafulli, C. (2005). Chapter 11: Causes and Consequences of Herbivory on Prairie Lupine (Lupinus lepidus) in Early Primary Succession. In Ecological responses to the 1980 eruption of Mount St. Helens [Dale, V. H., Swanson, F. J., Crisafulli, C. M., Eds.] (pp. 151-161). Birkhauser. Retrieved online [Google Books] May 17, 2010.

Brantley, S. & Myers, B. (2000). Mount St. Helens -- From the 1980 Eruption to 2000: U.S. Geological Survey Fact Sheet 036-00. Retrieved May 17, 2010.

Clynne, M., Ramsay, D., & Wolfe, E. (2005). Pre-1980 Eruptive History of Mount St. Helens, Washington

USGS Fact Sheet 2005-3045. Retrieved May 17, 2010.

Don't Limit Living History to Family Stories

One of the biggest mistakes many of us make when envisioning a Living History Project is by restricting ourselves to the familiar. Unless we have a famous uncle who invented the toilet plunger or an artist relative with a work in the Smithsonian, most Americans tend to downplay our own family histories.

Of course this makes sense in a culture that is founded on individualism and freedom for the average person, but community has always been an amazing part of American life. That sense of community and how it is expressed is what intrigues me about the Ridgefield area, and I would like to know all the people who live here.  Why not?  It is a fascinating bunch of great people.

So... when thinking about what could possibly interest another person about your life experience, or that of your ancestors, don't forget your friends too! They are your chosen family perhaps, but friends and neighbors are part of our lives and mean a great deal to us.  They may also be interesting characters all on their own.

For instance, my mother-in-law lived in southern Ridgefield near the Fairgrounds for forty-two years.  The first thirty she had never ventured into downtown Ridgefield even once.  She didn't even know how to get there, as she worked in Portland and all her travels by car were southerly.

Her first trip into downtown Ridgefield was filled with amazement.  I can still remember her saying, "They have a post office and a hardware store and a library!"  She also loved the food at the old Victoria's Restaurant, now the Pioneer Street Cafe. Eventually she ventured up as far north as the Oak Tree as she loved their salad with the beets and sunflower seeds. After we started the Ridgefield Art Association in 1993, she came to our May Art Show for many years.

I admit I ordered the Mature Learners Catalogue be sent to her house after she retired, as she was a very fit  if introverted woman and her younger friends were still working.  She was going a little crazy with nothing much to do, so I was talking to her about volunteering or taking up a hobby.  She had mentioned that she had always wanted to paint. I knew she read two things religiously from cover to cover. The Reflector and every bit of her mail, junk or otherwise. One day she called me and asked if I would help sign her up for a class.  Then she explained how like a miracle, this catalogue had come to her 'out of the blue' in her mail.  She studied watercolor painting at Clark for five years, starting her art class at the age of 76! 

There are also very unconventional ways to preserve living history other than just writing memoirs - for you or other people. There are recipes people have given us , pieces of art, photographs, recordings, old year books, newspaper clippings somebody saved, magazines from the attic. They may not be about your ancestors or relations, but maybe somebody else in Ridgefield or the Clark County area would treasure them. Plus the old garage and attic thing are problems and there can always be a house fire. Things happen.

So talk about them, write about them, try to remember them.  Nobody is going to judge your stories, your history or how you experienced it.  This is your viewpoint, nobody else's.  That's what makes a Living History Project so special.  Everything is wide open. Let's talk or come to our first meeting on May 25th at 7:00 p.m. at the Pickled Heron Gallery, 418 Pioneer, Ridgefield, WA 98642.

Picking Dinner | The Columbian

This Sunday, May 9th, a wonderful speaker is going to share his knowledge and recipes for local 'Wild Foods'. Want to become an educated forager in your own backyard? Meet him  - he's a PhD with a book coming out on June 1st - at the Plankhouse.

The event is free, but parking is $3.  Details are in the link below from the Columbian!

Picking Dinner The Columbian

INVITATION TO JOIN OUR RIDGEFIELD LIVING HISTORY PROJECT!!!

Most historical records are about land acquisitions, wills, births, deaths and marriages. The RLHP is about these things and more. We are interested in the people who lived here before and who live here now. Participate as little or much as you like.

• Record/video/write to preserve oral histories in the greater Ridgefield Area - anyone who has history here: tribal, early settlers, residency or business, schools, clubs, past and current residents, young and old! (Minors will need written parental permission for this activity outside their own families.)

• Photo Grid Preservation of Ridgefield 2010-2011: One sq.mile sections on a map will be assigned randomly and be photographed over a year. The Clark County Historical Museum has agreed to post photos and photographers' names.

• Engage our businesses: Preserve the current and past histories of businesses.

• Create personal family trees and provide free beginners’ genealogy classes.

• Preserve the experiences of Ridgefielders who met famous visitors (for example, Charles Lindbergh)

• Preserve the stories of ‘what life used to be like’ when a person was a child.

• Collaborate with the tribes who are and were here, and wish to share histories

• Engage newcomers and oldtimers and in-betweens as a community building exercise in which everyone interested in Ridgefield can participate.

• Compile Political History of Ridgefield: Who were our mayors, councilpersons?

• Provide resources contacts and links: Libraries, Clark County, Olympia, and groups like the Mayflower Society (10% of all Americans are descended from them) and some of the Royals sites (150 million Americans, or about half, are descended from royals born before the 17th century), the Clark County Genealogical Society, the Clark County Historical Museum, etc.

• Ridgefield Schools History: Hopefully the school can provide scans of class pictures, locals can provide photos others can help identify, etc.

• History of the Arts in the Ridgefield Area: those here and those who lived here.

• Collaborations/support of the Cemetery Committee, the Heritage Committee, the Clark County Historical Museum/Society and local clubs/organizations in the Ridgefield Area.

• Eventual goals: Ridgefield's own historical museum and society (perhaps as a branch of our Clark County Historical Society/Museum).

Got a better idea? Come to our first meeting:

When: Tuesday, May 25th, 2010 at 7:00 pm

Where: Pickled Heron Gallery, 418 Pioneer Street, Ridgefield, WA 98642

INFO: Elizabeth Madrigal @ 360-887-4530

Email: ridgefieldlivinghistoryproject@gmail.com

Mailing address: RLHP, c/o Elizabeth Madrigal, 31607 NW 44th Avenue, Ridgefield, WA 98642

Facebook Fan Page:  Ridgefield Living History Project

Columbia Mammoth Fossil Tusk found in Ridgefield

For those of you who heard about the fossil excavated from thirty feet down by DBM Contractors, the drilling sub-contractor for the new Exit 14 Interstate 5 exchange, here is a link to the Columbian article:

http://www.columbian.com/news/2010/feb/12/its-kind-of-mind-blowing-actually-brad-clark/

It sounds crazy, but in February of 2010 Inspector Brad Clark noticed debris in the dirt and decided that it didn't really look like wood.  He halted the work and picked out the pieces putting them together like a jigsaw puzzle. The inspector described the smell as 'indescribable', because he probably is much more polite than you or I would be, but 15,000 year old decaying matter might be a bit rich.

Clark is a WSDOT inspector, and so he contacted the environmental department and Roger Kiers, an archaelogist, drove down from Olympia.  It appears that Clark was correct and the tusk is believed to be from a Columbian Mammoth, the Washington State fossil.:)  These mammoths roamed this area up until about 10,000 years ago, but this particular tusk is estimated to be older.

Speculation about how the animal ended up embedded in claysoils and sediment are many, but it is fun for everyone to imagine what it would have been like to see one of these creatures lumbering past one's "plankhouse". Below is an artist's rendering of the animals from the La Brea Tarpits museum. It is interesting to note that geneticists have unscrambled about four-fifths of its genome making these sorts of discoveries all the more interesting. 

Courtesy of Flickr photo: Travis S.

Resources in Clark County, Washington, for History & Genealogy Buffs

There are some amazing people who are interested in preserving the full history of Clark County in addition to organizatoins like the Clark County Historical Museum, the Clark County Historical Society, the Clark County Genealogical Society, the Vancouver Regional Library (with all its branches), the Center for Columbia River History, several Tribes and the many people who work in government and other non-profits.

We will be compiling contact information for anyone who is interested in volunteering or participating in a variety of activities, so check back in.

My Ancestor, John Harington (aka Harrington) Flush Toilet Inventor... praise that man!

I research independently, but I have a membership to the on-site genealogy site, ancestry.com. I have over 13,400 ancestors and extended family on my family tree, and enjoy researching individual names in sort of a 'dart-board' approach.Today, I found a history on the Harrington family, one of my ancestral surnames, and so I followed it back to England.

I found the following biographical information on-line on ancestry.com about my direct great-grandfather ancestor (of many generations ago) who was born in Kelston, England on the 4th of August, 1560. He was a favorite, mostly, of Queen Elizabeth I, as one of her 102 Godchildren, but as a writer he seemed to be dealing with many of the same political issues we face today. As fascinating as all this is to me, this ancestor was most well-known for inventing the flush toilet!

My point in blogging about this and posting this biography here is to show how rich our heritage can be but first we need to we know our ancestors' names. Then your search for information becomes a historical treasure hunt.

So here is part of my ancestry story:

"John Harington (writer)
Born 4 August 1560
Kelston, Somerset, England Died 20 November 1612 (aged 52)
Spouse(s) Mary Rogers (1583)

John Harington (also spelled Harrington) (4 August 1561 – 20 November 1612) of Kelston was a courtier, author and master of art. He became a prominent member of Queen Elizabeth I's court, and was known as her 'saucy Godson'. But because of his poetry and other writings, he fell in and out of favour with the Queen, as well as with her successor, James I.

The work for which he is best known today, A New Discourse of a Stale Subject, called the Metamorphosis of Ajax (1596) is in fact a political allegory, a 'device' in the contemporary sense of an emblem, not in the modern sense of a mechanical device. It is a coded attack, as his autograph marginal notes make clear, on the 'stercus' or excrement that was poisoning society with torture and state-sponsored 'libells' against his relatives Thomas Markham and Ralph Sheldon. The work enjoyed considerable popularity on its publication in 1596.

Harington is most popularly known as the inventor of the Flush toilet.[1][2]

He is also remembered for the political epigram, "Treason doth never prosper: what’s the reason? Why, if it prosper, none dare call it treason."
// Family life

Harington was born in Kelston, Somerset, England, the son of John Harington of Kelston (d. 1582), the poet, and his second wife Isabella Markham (d. 1579), a gentlewoman of Queen Elizabeth I's privy chamber. He enjoyed the honour of being accepted as a godson of the childless Queen, becoming one of her 102 god-children. Her god children were persons that the Queen was fond of. If the Queen's friend had a child or children, the Queen would often show extreme niceties to them, and sometimes, would accept them as godchildren. She treated them well. Persons who also made great achievements, such as John Harington, were made godchildren.

The exact relationship between the John Harington of Kelston and the line of his contemporary John Harington, 1st Baron Harington of Exton has not been established. Apparently John of Kelston did not know the pedigree of his obscure grandfather, Alexander of Stepney. Nevertheless it is generally assumed that he was also descended from the first Lord Harington of Aldingham, a baron in Edward II's time.

He was educated at Eton and King's College, Cambridge.[3]

Although he had studied the law, Harington was attracted early in life to the royal court, where his freespoken attitude and poetry gained Elizabeth's attention. The Queen encouraged his writing, but Harington was inclined to overstep the mark in his somewhat Rabelaisian and occasionally risqué pieces. His attempt at a translation of Ariosto's Orlando Furioso caused his banishment from court for some years, but was completed in 1591 and received great praise. [1] Angered by the raciness of his translations the Queen told Harington that he was to leave and not return until he had translated the entire poem. She chose this punishment rather than actually banishing him, but she considered the task so difficult that it was assumed Harington would not bother to comply. Harington, however, chose to follow through with the request, and eventually completed translating the poem. His version of the poem is the translation that is still read by English speakers today.[4]

Harington wed Mary Rogers in 1583 and together they had nine children, two of whom died, as his autograph revisions make clear.

Harington fell ill in May 1612 and died on 20 November 1612, soon after Prince Henry, who died on 6 November; he was buried in Kelston.

Campaigns in Ireland

In 1599 the queen sent an army, led by Robert Devereux, 2nd Earl of Essex, to Ireland during the Nine Years War (1595-1603). Following her strong recommendation that Essex include him in his army, Harington was put in command of horseman under Henry Wriothesley, 3rd Earl of Southampton. Harington's legacy from this campaign were his letters and journal, which served to give the queen good intelligence about the progress of the campaign and its politics. Harington wrote, "I have informed myself reasonably well of the whole state of the country, by observation and conference: so I count the knowledge I have gotten here worth more than half the three hundred pounds this journey hath cost me." During the campaign Essex conferred a knighthood on Harington for his services. Essex fell into disfavour with the queen for concluding the campaign on a truce, and also caused her fury over the large number of knighthoods he awarded. Harington had been present at the truce negotiations, and on accompanying Essex when he returned to court to account to the queen, he experienced the royal wrath. However, his wit and charm soon secured the queen's forgiveness.
Literary works

Harington continued to write, even though he had vowed to give up poetry upon the death of Queen Elizabeth. He published just one more slim volume of verse in 1607, but continued to send letters both to friends and to the king's eldest son, Prince Henry, until 1609. Some of these letters were later collected by Harington's descendant, Henry Harington, and published under the title of Nugae Antiquae in 1769. The volume is a significant source for the history of the Tudor re-conquest of Ireland.
Orlando Furioso The Metamorphosis of Ajax

Around this time, Harington also devised Britain's first flushing toilet — called the Ajax (i.e. "a jakes"; jakes being an old slang word for toilet) — installed at his manor in Kelston, and which was reputed to have been current with the queen herself. Indeed, the American utilisation of the word 'John' as a euphemism for toilet, or bathroom, derives from Harington's invention. In 1596, Harington wrote a book called A New Discourse upon a Stale Subject: The Metamorphosis of Ajax about his invention[5]. He published it under the pseudonym of Misacmos. The book made political allusions to the Earl of Leicester that angered the Queen, and he was again banished from the court. The Queen's mixed feelings for him may be the only thing that saved Harington from being tried at Star Chamber.
Life as a courtier

After the queen's death, Harington's fortunes faltered at the court of the new King, James I. He spent some time at his manor at Kelston, but then found himself serving time in prison. He had stood surety for the debts of his cousin, Sir Griffin Markham, in the sum of £4000, when the latter had become involved in the Bye and Main Plots. Not able to meet his cousin's debts without selling his own lands, and unwilling to languish in gaol, he escaped custody in October 1603. However, James I had already recognised his loyalty and created him a Knight of the Bath and also granted him the properties forfeited upon Markham's exile.

Towards the end of his life, Sir John Harington became the tutor to Henry Frederick, Prince of Wales. He annotated for him a copy of Francis Godwin's De praesulibus Angliae. Harington's grandson, John Chetwind later published these annotations in 1653, under the title of A Briefe View of the State of the Church.

Sir John Harington died on 20 November 1612 at the age of 52. Though he was never able to regain his place in high society in England, his poetry at the time was well known and much admired, despite lacking much place in modern literature."

Interviewing Older Relatives and Neighbors... Before It Is Too Late

Most of us are complete and utter clods when it comes to asking our older relatives for information. First of all, we hurry them. Many seniors would be more than happy to tell us the stories of their lives, but if we rush them it is harder to remember things and details.

Relatives may be uncomfortable and worried about what other relatives may think if the types of things we are asking could be considered gossipy or private details. As an example, when I lived in Mexico City for three years I realized that Mexicans could role model for us Americans the value of extended family. An aunt or uncle or cousin or grandparent may be just as close and important to a person as siblings and parents. My Mexican friends would not consider saying something negative or critical about any of these people. This restraint is not a cultural predisposition just to Latins, however, so be respectful and let people talk.

Many of your questions will be answered without the need to pry. The first time you talk to them they may stay general, but the next time they may open up. Or the time after that and that and that. Also, make notes or use a tape recorder. Show your name as the interviewer, their name, their town, the date, etc. Good source records are important later when you have conflicting information and you will!

At the last funeral I attended, an elderly aunt had a great time while teasing her daughter and me. We laughed too, but inadvertently she gave me many details about the rest of our family. I made notes on the plane on the way home and used those notes to discover a great deal more history about my old hometown. It should not be surprising that these discoveries led to the surrounding towns. Without realizing it,I had been locked into thinking that everyone came from the town where my living relatives were. These were adventurous people, some of whom had crossed the Atlantic Ocean. Traveling 20, 50 or even 500 miles would not have been out of the realm of possibilities for any of them.

Now it seems ridiculous on its face. However, not one of my aunts, uncles, first cousins or siblings knew our ancestors had lived throughout the states of Massachusetts, Maine, Connecticut, New Hampshire, New Jersey and Rhode Island and that some of them during the Revolutionary War relocated to Nova Scotia. In fact, my paternal grandmother had been born in Brooklyn, which was a complete shock to me. I discovered where she went to nursing school and learned from my one living Aunt that my grandmother was a WWI veteran as she had joined the army after nursing school.

Although they were desperately in need of nurses for the Veterans Hospital in New York, her enlistment had been a problem initially because of her health. This was solved by her waiving medical insurance and coverage. The Army diagnosed a congenital heart defect they thought might eventually cost them money and would not let her enlist until she signed the waiver. She lived to 67, which made the waiver a moot point, but it seemed unconscionable to me just the same. The newest health care legislation makes this story ever dearer to my heart, as my own skinny and incredibly fit father had a massive heart attack at 39 years old related to injuries he sustained when he was torpedoed during his service in WWII. My father's medical was covered, as WWII respected its veterans, but my grandmother's was not. Different times, different values. I am glad I will not have any more stories from this era to tell my grandchildren. Anyone should be ashamed to deny a sick person access to medical services in a country with so many resources for the wealthy. Okay, no more politics, but they are prevalent throughout history, and this kind of blog post adds to that cache.

Another piece of advice I give to anyone who is doing research is simple. Write down names, dates, impressions, towns, professions, nicknames and countries of origin when your older relatives are talking. If your great-aunt remembers her great-aunt Hildegard speaking German, or your inebriated great-uncle swears in Italian, these are clues to your past. Those family myths are probably based on some sort of truth unless your relative is a pathological liar and you will still probably find some grains of truth in the lies.

A few years after my mother died, her first cousin confided to my sister that we were part Native American on the Canadian side. She had been told it was the Mi'kmaq tribe. This made sense, as they were one of the tribes both in Maine and Quebec, during the period she described, and our ancestors and relatives crossed that border with frequency. The Native American ancestor would have been my great-great-grandmother, or my grandfather's grandmother. As an ancestor had been killed during the Indian Wars by members of that same tribe, there was some irony there for me.

My sister, who lives around extended family, mentioned this Native American heritage, by the way, just in passing a year ago as she had a random picture of a Native American woman. It was tacked up on a board filled with a collage of other real family pictures. Inspired, I tracked down this first-cousin-once-removed but as her phone number had been changed, I wrote her a letter. I thought about doing this for months and months before I finally did. One Sunday I worded my letter so perfectly - so as not to offend an 88 year old woman who hadn't spoken to me since I was 13 - as if this was true, I had to make it comfortable enough for her to break the conspiracy of silence about the subject.

I sent her a letter; unfortunately, she received it shortly before her death. It was read to her by long-term neighbors, who were collecting her mail while she was in the hospital. She neglected to confirm or deny the information. Of course, the neighbor was kind enough to send me my letter back, explain the situation, and the only comment she made was that my cousin was "surprised" to hear from me. Mea culpa, friends. I live 3000 miles from that generation and she lived another 300 miles south of most of the extended family, but that was truly lost opportunity. She had no children and so her knowledge, her stories, her memories ended with her.

Call your grandma and grandpa or take your old Auntie out to lunch. Who knows what treasures are in store for you if you work on that 'listening' thing. Good luck!