Destination: ‘A Little County Seat’
[imgbelt img=slanskymap320.jpg]Genealogy, one of the fastest growing hobbies in the nation, eventually leads to research in a small town. Some rural communities know their own past and are prepared to share it.
“To know a person’s history, is to appreciate it. The same goes for a town,” Ordone writes. Her Internet library of all-things-Stephentown includes Census records dating back to the 1830s, many family genealogies, bios of the area’s early physicians, and much more – even a recounting of the notorious “Kittle Double Murder.”
“I can’t begin to tell you the number of people over the course of the last seven years…who have found family and friends because of information on my site,” she writes. “Contributors from literally all over the world have sent me photos and stories, genealogies and little twigs of their family tree, and in return have found the answers to long held questions, because of the contributions of others.”
Ordone believes that this information does more than satisfy personal curiosity. “Genealogical research tends to bring small communities together, in that the discovery of mutual ties will bond people.” She credits the Stephentown Historical Society with hard work, and success, in preservation. The group has saved an abandoned Methodist Episcopal church (c. 1870), which now holds its library, and has restored several old cemeteries in the region.
Genealogy buff Judy Owens of Lexington, KY, contends, “If you get serious about this kind of work, at some point you’re going to have to go to a little county seat.”
But aside from court documents (assuming the local courthouse never burned), what will researchers find once they go? Could rural communities stand to benefit from building local genealogical archives?
Jean Davis of Dime Box Texas – a participant in the Hovezi-Huslensky Village reunion – says that creating a reliable archive is both fascinating and demanding work. “Most people can tell their own story,” she says, “but a genealogy goes back much further than that. It takes somebody dedicated and with blinders on. You eat, sleep and breathe this.” Jean’s late brother, Albert Blaha, was such a person. Among Texas-Czechs, he was one of the first to undertake serious genealogical research.
After leaving the family farm and graduating from University of Texas, Blaha worked as a project engineer overseas. In 1962, their father died and Albert “didn’t make it home in time for the funeral,” Davis says. “That shook him up really bad. I’m sure that’s what drove him” – to trace the family’s history all the way to the Old Country and understand his heritage.
Jean Davis and her husband, after living in Dallas and Houston for many years, moved back to Dime Box just a few miles from where her parents had once farmed. In their “retirement,” the Davises have worked to sustain a small historical museum and genealogical collection in Dime Box, too. “We’re just a little pimple,” she says, “but even as small as we are — we’re probably 250 people — people come here and find this genealogy, a lot of them from other states.” How do people discover their history center? A big mailbox stationed on a pole “sitting on Highway 21, points people to town,” Davis says. “That pulls in a lot.”
One of the nation’s genealogical hot spots is Middlesboro, Kentucky; it lies at the Western edge of the Cumberland Gap, where many pioneers (including Daniel Boone) ventured through the Appalachian Mountains.
Marsha Bratton, regent of the Daughters of American Revolution (D.A.R.) Kentucky Path chapter there, notes that “genealogy has been one of the fastest growing hobbies for about 10 years.” She believes in the educational benefits of genealogy to inspire young people’s interest and capacity for learning.
But without rural genealogy expertise and local centers for its dissemination, those “family connections” will likely become more and more tenuous as time passes. Every small town needs its Tina Ordone, T.J. Slansky, Jean Davis, or Marsha Bratton. Albert Blahas Wanted!