Connecting dots

Last night I removed events and people from my tree. Why? The more I looked at things, the more the dots didn't connect.

Uncle Reuben Birdsell, well, he's great, great, great, great Uncle Reuben has always been a pain in my family tree.

I was falling into the same trap so many fall into. Oh, Reuben H.F. Birdsell married Margaret Concle in Clark, Missouri in 1857. It has to be my Reuben because I have paperwork where his middle initial is H. Of course there is no good reason for him to be in Missouri in 1857 that I've found. But on the actual marriage record it says his residence is Van Buren, Iowa and that's just across the state line from Clark County, Missouri. And in 1857 his nephew, William, was in Linn County, Iowa.

True. So very true. Except it's about 120 miles between Linn County and Van Buren County Iowa. By today's standards not too far, but in 1857 not really close enough to be part of a group that moved together.

One marriage record is not enough to connect the dot to my Reuben.

I didn't stop there though. In the 1870 and 1880 Federal Census there's a Reuben and Margaret Birdsell in Pennsylvania. They must have moved back east after they married.

Except the ONLY thing that even suggests it's my Reuben is the birth year. Yes the year of birth fits my Reuben. But in the 1870 Federal Census this Reuben shows he was born around 1818 in Pennsylvania. I looked at the 1880 census. Reuben is born around 1818 in Kentucky.

At that point I really was ready to discard this Reuben Birdsell from my search. Then I found his death record. Reuben Birdsell born about 1818 in New York. The right year, the right state and the right name.

I tried to make that death record enough to tie the marriage record from Missouri in 1857 and the 1870 and 1880 census to Uncle Reuben.

It's not enough. It doesn't connect the dots.

Last night at the same time a cousin was working on Reuben, we found the same 1860 census. Reben and Margaret Birdsell in Pennsylvania. Yay. Except, this Reben and Margaret Birdsell had a ten year old son named William.

Wait Reuben H.F. Birdsell didn't marry Margaret Concle until 1857. This is 1860. They can't have a ten year old son. Well, they could, but it's not reasonable to think they do.

Then I realized that I was connecting dots that didn't hold up. I can't prove Reuben HF Birdsell was Uncle Reuben. I can't prove Reuben and Margaret Birdsell in the 1870 census is Uncle Reuben. I can't prove Reuben and Margaret Birdsell in the 1880 census is Uncle Reuben. I can't prove that the Reuben Birdsell who died in Pennsylvania in Jan 1895 is Uncle Reuben.

I can't connect the dots. None of that information, including spouse and children belongs in my family tree.

Why do we do it? A variety of reasons. The least attractive, and the reason why I did it was to prove others wrong. Honestly, I didn't need to create a false life for Uncle Reuben to prove who the mother and father of my great, great grandfather William were. Yes, I was attempting to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that Uncle Reuben was not William's father. I'd already done that in numerous ways. Just as my mother had started down the path of proving she had made a mistake when she listed Reuben as William's father.

Another reason why we do it and it was part of my reason, too, we want our ancestors to have lived full, complete lives. We want to honor them by finding that full life they lived.

There is nothing wrong with that. Except we can't let it cloud us. The best honor we can give our ancestors is to make an accurate log of their life.

As of this minute, everything about Reuben Birdsell that's in my tree I can prove. I can't prove anything about his life past 11 Jan 1856 when he took an oath for a widow to claim a Revolutionary War pension for the service her late husband gave to this country.

Everything prior to that I'm positive is him. Nothing past 1856 can be proven to be the same Reuben Birdsell. To honor him and the life he did have I have to leave it as a big question after Jan 1856. To do anything else would be turning my tree into a Fiction Tree.