Roots: So Long, Farewell

In 49 previous “Roots” columns since 2010, I’ve aimed to demonstrate the joys and challenges of family history for a general audience while engaging — or, at a minimum, not disappointing — experienced genealogists. As it turns out, telling a good yarn is the most reliable way to satisfy both publics.

My first column, “Cracking a Hard Case,” remains a favourite. What had become of my friend Anne’s long-lost aunt, given up for adoption in 1923? The search had eventually succeeded, but not without twists and turns, dead ends and frustrations. In short, a typical day at the office for knowledgeable researchers and an approachable detective story for general readers.

Similar mini case studies layered other themes onto the suspense of the chase. There was the years-long hunt for the birth certificate of my friend Michael’s father; all the time, a document already in hand pointed obliquely to the existence of an obscure U.S. consular file, but I was oblivious. There’s a reason why I’ve often described my genealogical journey as “seeking perfection one mistake at a time,” and I’m hardly the only one prone to error.

Particularly popular were tales of bad behaviour. Think of the spurious family histories of professional genealogist Gustave Anjou in the 1920s, and the great estate hoaxes that captured the public imagination from the mid-19th century through the 1930s — all bolstered by genealogical jiggery-pokery.

One mode I’ve never adopted in “Roots” is advocacy. Many times, I have suppressed the urge to weigh in on public discussion of such topics as privacy laws and practices, direct-to-consumer genomics, and the habitual and superficial knee-jerkery of government, academia and the media when it comes to these matters. But Canada’s History is not a soapbox.

As we approach the end of this, my 50th and final “Roots” column, here are several more valedictory observations:

• Finest moment: Applying the horticultural portmanteau “Frankentree” metaphorically to the blatantly inaccurate family trees grafted onto one another by incompetent online researchers. (A Google search turns up no earlier use of the word in this context, though I stand to be corrected.)
• Most regrettable mistake: Using the word “executed” to describe the killing of a Jewish family in Nazi Germany, thereby inadvertently ascribing a veneer of due process and the rule of law to genocide.
• An army of supporters: A shout-out to the Annes, Michaels and a host of family, friends, fellow genealogists, librarians, archivists, subject experts, and the staff of companies and organizations serving the genealogy community, all of whom have contributed stories, insights and advice to “Roots.”
• A special note of gratitude: To the editors and art directors, past and present, at The Beaver and Canada’s History magazines, who have shaped my thoughts, sharpened my copy and presented it to advantage. A special tip of the hat to Fred Curatolo, whose droll illustrations have so often accompanied and enlivened this column.

Finally, a note of appreciation to family historians everywhere. We may be a little rough around the edges, but we’re streets ahead of the academy at digging up information about forebears, mastering the citizen science that underlies forensic genealogy, and building the most comprehensive and well-documented genetic and genealogical trees of humankind. A grateful nation won’t be thanking you for your service any time soon, and many may regard you as a tad weird, but kudos to you!