The future of genealogical societies has been a cause for concern, at least for the past few years. Memberships have been declining even though it appears that there has been an increased interest in family history research. This has prompted a lot of healthy debate on how genealogical societies can be rejuvenated. With ever increasing resources available on-line, both free and through subscriptions, it is often easier to remain in the comfort of one’s own home, conduct research and connect with others through social networking websites, blogs and email who share similar research interests.

The reality of genealogical research today is that on-line resources probably represent only about ten percent of all of the available material (at least by my estimate). This may start to change as efforts continue to digitize books and records but I think the monumental task of digitizing ‘everything’ is a long way from ever being completed. While on-line resources are great, and I personally subscribe to a number of them, they do not provide everything that is needed.

Genealogical societies then, need to look at how they can contribute real value to family historians because the current ‘competition’ isn’t going away and will only get tougher. In Ontario, Canada where I live, there has been debate ‘raging’ (maybe too strong a term) about increased membership fees and not enough value being offered for the money to join and/or renew membership with the Ontario Genealogical Society (OGS).

Membership in the OGS is required in order to subsequently be able to join local branches. Clearly, in my opinion, the OGS needs to offer more than a portal for branch membership and it seems, unfortunately that for some, perhaps many, this isn’t the case. John Reid, in his popular Anglo-Celtic Connections blog has offered a well stated argument for not renewing his membership. Unlike John, I have renewed my membership, although admittedly the fee increase caught my attention because once I started adding in the costs, albeit much lower, for each of the branches I wanted to also join, due to a variety of family connections, the cost really escalated. At some point, the cost of membership becomes prohibitive.

Am I getting the value I would like from the provincial society at $60 per year that I enjoy from the Toronto branch at $12 per year (based on 2010 individual membership fees)? Probably not. And I admit that I also don’t have any ‘quick fix’ solutions for the problem but I will share some suggestions.

First, outreach. Too frequently I sense that societies wait for new people to just start attending meetings rather than being drawn in through an effective outreach program. Simply maintaining a web presence that informs potential members of when the next meeting is going to be held or providing information about registration for an upcoming conference is not enough. Getting into the local mall with an information and display booth, offering a free class through the local library or adult leisure education program will draw far more attention.

Second, stop printing. A significant contributor to rising costs for societies that then results in higher membership fees is the printing of glossy magazines and newsletters, the receipt of which is included as a membership ‘benefit.’ The content of these periodicals is a tremendous resource for the beginner and expert alike. Let’s think about making them available electronically only. Modern family history research with its associated database software programs, email communications, and web search capabilities means that most family history researchers are pretty savvy with technology. Electronic postings are cheaper, accessible, and faster to get into the ‘hands’ of members, not to mention that they are friendlier for the environment.

Finally, enhance opportunities for collaboration. One thing I’ve noted with genealogists, we all love to share our information and we love to receive new information. ‘Networking’ and researching collaboratively with other researchers not only opens us to learn new tips and techniques but also to find solutions to research problems that we likely hold in common. There are numerous means to bring this about and those that don’t work well can be discarded in favour of those techniques that succeed.

Genealogy is all about people – not only our ancestors but also our genealogical colleagues. Perhaps its time to move beyond the way we’ve always done things to try something new and maybe, just maybe have a whole lot of fun in the process. Something to think about!

Okay, I admit it. I couldn’t resist the temptation to do a little genealogical digging in search of Santa Claus and his family roots. I also must confess that I didn’t spend too much time conducting this research. Instead, I conducted a general search for our Christmas hero on Ancestry in order to find a good starting point. Unfortunately, I must report that I hit a brick wall!

Recognizing that Santa’s address is North Pole, Canada H0H 0H0, I first restricted my search to Canadian records only. I was shocked that an obituary record was immediately provided to me by the Ancestry databases. Not wanting to believe that the obituary could possibly be for Santa, I quickly went to the record provided. What a relief – and for that matter, a mystery. The obituary was for actress Deborah Kerr who had passed away in November 2007 following an award winning film career that included notable performances in The King and I and From Here to Eternity. Santa was not named as a surviving family member in the obituary so what relationship could Miss Kerr have with him? Well, it turns out that Santa happened to be mentioned on the same page in the Toronto Daily Star newspaper as the obituary – the reference to Santa being related to a charitable funding raising campaign. Santa was also mentioned with the same charity reference on another page offered by Ancestry. This time a newspaper page listing an index of obituaries about notables who had passed away. Other newspaper references were provided through my Ancestry Canadian record search, all from the Canadian prairie provinces and none dealing with Santa or his roots.

So I broadened my search to include all Ancestry records. I found a Santa Elf Claus reportedly living at 999 North Pole Lane in Baltimore, Maryland. Clearly not the same Santa I was looking for as everyone knows Baltimore is not the North Pole and, to the best of my knowledge, its not even likely his summer home. I found another Santa Claus who married Alisa P. Porter on September 21, 2001 in Elko County, Utah. Again, a 2001 marriage just doesn’t seem to fit and I suspect that the Mrs. Claus I had been aware of throughout my life wouldn’t have been amused. Finally, there was the record of a one year old Santa Claus in the 1898 Pueblo and Jicarilla, New Mexico, US Indian Census schedule. This again didn’t fit as ‘my’ Santa Claus is said to have Dutch roots.

Like all brick walls, I hope that perhaps this one might come tumbling down. Until that day, I will just have to continue to believe!

On Saturday, June 16th, 1928, a young woman named Agnes Little boarded the “Regina” in the Port of Greenock, Scotland. The ship was owned and operated by the White Star Lines, the same company that had built, and lost, the infamous “Titanic.” The “Regina” was a large steamship, capable of accommodating almost 2,500 passengers along with almost 300 crew members.

Agnes, whose occupation was listed as a ‘domestic,’ was part of a Salvation Army Party, organized to take young immigrants to Canada. These groups, now considered quite controversial, had years earlier consisted mainly of young boys sent to Canada where they had a chance to gain ‘farming experience’ whereas the reality was often one of providing free or, at best, cheap labour. By the time Agnes was boarding the ship bound for Canada, emigration through this program had slowed. By 1939, it ceased altogether with the outbreak of war.

Agnes, a petite four feet, ten inches, had left her parents, James and Margaret Little, her three brothers, little sister Jenny, and the only home she had known at 26 Sir Michael Street in Greenock, to travel to Toronto, Ontario, Canada where she hoped she would find employment as a “Ward Maid.”

As a British subject, there would be no immigration application required and she already had arranged for a place to stay – the Salvation Army Hostel in Toronto. She had money to help her settle in the far away land she had never seen before – the large sum of $10.00. Agnes had also been given the name of a Scottish family to look up once she had arrived in Toronto – the Haddens.

Shortly after she arrived in Canada on June 23rd, 1928, Agnes did contact the Hadden family and enjoyed the support that was offered to her by the family members, who themselves were recent immigrants, having arrived in Toronto only the year before after four years working a prairie homestead. Agnes was able to find work and a place of her own to call home, a flat at 44 MacPherson Avenue near downtown Toronto. She also started dating the youngest son in the Hadden family, John.

Agnes (pictured above right) married John in 1929 and the following year, they welcomed their first of four children into the world, a son they named Lewis.

I remember visiting my grandmother Agnes, or Granny as I called her. She was already suffering from the effects of cancer when I was a young boy but she somehow was always able to muster up enough strength to entertain and play with me. The cancer finally prevailed and Agnes passed away on November 18, 1958 at the age of 50. Though she called Canada home, she will always be remembered for proudly proclaiming her Scottish heritage through the words, “My tongue is my passport.”

The Internet has continued to marvel me with the continuing opportunities for learning. As technology advances, it is becoming simple to find new and improved forms to gain a better understanding and new knowledge of all things genealogical.

With the digitization of historic documents and books ever increasingly making these resources available on-line, the Internet continues to be a fabulous source for findings items of great research value. But from a learning perspective, perhaps one of the still most under-utilised sources of education for family historians are the videos and podcasts that are now available.

I used to think of YouTube as a website for the marginal and bizarre. The site where you could find short video clips of something strange, presented through grainy cell phone images. If it ever was that, it has advanced and been embraced by genealogists in large numbers. Type the words “genealogy” or “family history” into the YouTube search box and you will find more than 125,000 links to videos that will provide everything from beginner’s lessons to advanced tips and techniques.

But one of my favourite ‘new media’ resources are the podcasts. These are essentially audio files, like a recorded radio broadcast, that cover just about every topic imaginable. For the family historian, I think you’re really missing out if you are not taking advantage of these, primarily free, resources. Although the name ‘podcast’ is derived from Apple’s iPod, you don’t have to own an iPod to listen to them. Podcasts can be played right from your computer (or any mp3 audio device) if you want and finding podcasts is easy. You can download the free iTunes software from the Apple website and then, after opening the iTunes program, click on the Podcast tab, search for “genealogy.” You’ll be amazed at the number of ‘shows’ that are available. By simply clicking on the ‘subscribe’ button, your iTunes software will download each new episode of your selected podcasts as they become available. You can also listen to any episodes that you might have missed by clicking on the ‘get all’ button. And don’t limit yourself just to genealogy – by searching under ‘history’ or for the history of the country of your ancestral roots, you may find even more to help set context for the lives of your family members.

I happen to have access to an iPod and I have a one hour commute to work and back home. This provides me with two hours of education each day. So here are a couple of my favourite podcasts with links so you can enjoy them as well.

The Genealogy Guys podcast, the longest running, regularly produced podcast, is available for free. Hosts Drew Smith and George Morgan cover a range of topics, always offering expert advice and tips on research and the use of technology by family historians. They even mentioned this blog in one of their episodes, so what’s not to like. The ‘Guys’ have also produced a number of video interviews with a variety of experts that are available at http://genealogyguys.blip.tv/.

Another real favourite is the collective work of Lisa Louise Cooke who just has to be one of the busiest genealogy educators in the world. Lisa’s podcast, Genealogy Gems, is a treasure trove that blends tips and techniques with news, crafts, and most importantly, fun. As for the busy part, well, in addition to the free Genealogy Gems episodes, Lisa now offers extra ‘premium members only’ shows through her site, regular Family History: Genealogy Made Easy episodes for Personal Life Media, and produces a series of videos for her Genealogy Gems YouTube ‘channel’ in addition to a monthly podcast for Family Tree Magazine.

Finally, a third suggestion to consider and especially if you have British roots, the National Archives of the United Kingdom offers a series of podcasts that deal with the history and records of the UK. I don’t have a significant family connection in the UK but the historical context to what life might have been like in the past that these podcasts provide is not only very informative but often provide suggested research tips and strategies that can be applied in other areas.

Give these a try and let me know what you think or share your favourites in the Comments section below. As always, I can also be contacted at ian.hadden@rogers.com.

I’m certain that all families who celebrate Christmas develop their own traditions, probably like my family, a blend of practises that my parents agreed upon early in their marriage. While I can’t say for certain which of my parents was responsible for which tradition, Christmas was always a magical time. Annually, we would follow the same pattern each year.

Everything started with the compulsory visit with Santa Claus. This was important for two reasons: one, my parents wanted a photo of their children posing with Santa even if it might have a bit over-priced; and, two, I had to let Santa know what I wanted for Christmas. While I can’t say that I was all that interested in the photo, reason number two was extremely important.

The real excitement began to build early on Christmas Eve. Although I don’t remember it as a must-do, annual ritual, the family would often bundle into the car for a leisurely trip through the surrounding neighbourhoods in search of houses with Christmas lights. The more splendid the display, the longer the pause to take it all in. My parents also knew that the certain radio stations would be broadcasting NORAD ‘reports’ on the progress Santa was making, followed by my gazing skyward to see if I could spot him and typically, I was certain that I could.

Christmas Eve at my childhood home didn’t include any special dinners or snacks rather, it was the one night of the year when I didn’t dare complain about having to take a bath. On the assumption that I had somehow managed to remain on Santa’s ‘nice’ list, I saw no reason to blow it when the ‘finish’ line was in sight – complaining, I firmly believed, might be just enough to tip the scales and shift my position from ‘nice’ to ‘naughty.’

Dressed in new pajamas following the bath, it was downstairs to the Christmas tree for the evening’s formalities – the hanging of the Christmas stockings. We didn’t have a fireplace to hang stockings, in fact no one in the neighbourhood had one but it didn’t matter as somehow Santa had always been able to work around that problem. No, I hung my stocking over the living room sofa – a bright, red felt stocking with my name ‘written’ across the white top with glitter. This always meant posing for another photo that was followed by the leaving of milk and cookies as Santa would likely require nourishment after carrying large amounts into my living room and positioning them perfectly under the tree for me to enjoy the following morning.

Sleep never came easily on Christmas Eve. In fact, I can recall at least one occasion when my younger brother, Bob, insisted that I go downstairs shortly after midnight to see if Santa had already stopped at our house – he hadn’t!

Christmas morning always started early – 6:00 AM was considered a late start. I made sure that I excitedly informed my sleepy parents that Santa had indeed visited us before I ran downstairs to dive into the toys and gifts. My favourite part of Christmas morning though was going through my stocking. It always seemed to be filled the the most amazing assortment of small games and toys, candy and, filling the ‘toe’ end of the stocking was always the largest apple or orange that I had ever seen. The stocking content would change over over the years but the large apple or orange was always sure to be found. Although I would never understand the reason Santa put that large fruit into the stocking first or even why he would think that it would be something I really wanted, there was an odd sense of comfort in knowing each year that it would be the last item to pull out.

Following a day filled with trying out all the new toys and games, Christmas dinner was turkey and all the trimmings, topped off with plum pudding with rum sauce – my father’s favourite. Some of the memories of family Christmases seem to fade a little as the years go by – but the feelings never do – that sense of family.

My mother, Anne Margaret O’Neill (pictured left) was born on October 4, 1930 in Detroit, Michigan, USA. Her father, John Graham O’Neill, had moved the family, consisting of himself, his wife Gertrude and their year-old son Edwin, from Toronto, Ontario, Canada to Detroit in 1929 to take a job as a grocer. As the daughter of an O’Neill and a Foley, my mother was proud of her Irish roots. I don’t think she ever knew though that she also had Scottish ancestors.

It was well known that my mother possessed a stereotypical “Irish temper” but a trait, also seen in her Scottish second great grandmother, may have brought out her fiery and determined best. That second great grandmother was Flora McRae.

There is much research yet to be pursued regarding Flora but what is known is that she born around 1776 in Scotland and that she married her husband Finlay McRae around 1800 in Inverness. Finlay and Flora left Scotland about 1815 or 1816 and settled in the Glengarry area of what was then Upper Canada. Finlay and Flora had nine children; the first five were born in Scotland with the four youngest being born into the family in the years following their arrival in Upper Canada. Catherine, the youngest in the family, was born in 1822 and is my mother’s great grandmother. Unfortunately for the family, sometime between 1822 and 1828, Finlay died.

It seems that a Donald Cameron eventually promised to sell Flora some good land in the Township of Thorah but on seeing the land after her move from Glengarry, a determined Flora demanded that Mr. Cameron provide her with land more to her liking. A one hundred acre lot was agreed upon which Flora and her children “built a good house and cleared about 8 acres on the west half of Lot No. 4, 1st Concession of Eldon.” The matter of Flora’s land petition and sought after relief for the granting to her of a deed for the land was considered between July 22, 1830 and April 28, 1831. A determined Flora, able to only speak Gaelic, was successful.

Sadly, as reported in the Orillia Times on May 5, 1876, “Mrs. Flora McRae, of the great age of 100 years, who lived in a house by herself, a few rods from that of her son, Colin McRae, Kirkfield, was last Thursday found dead sitting by the fireside, with her clothes almost completely burnt off her body. She was not severely burnt, but when found life was extinct.”

Many parents, myself and my parents before me included, take their young children to a photo studio in order to have the cute, innocent image of their children preserved in a photograph to be framed and hung in the home with pride.

Although I can’t say that I ever thought of my paternal grandfather, John Gaull Hadden as being cute or innocent, it appears that my great grandparents, Alexander and Jessie Hadden felt that way. The photo to the right is of John when he was estimated to be three or four years old. If this is correct, the photograph was taken around 1913 or 1914. The photo (original in my possession) is printed on post card type stock and, typical of a postcard, the back has space for a stamp, an address and a message. It also identifies the photography studio as the Elite Studio, 5 Market Street, Aberdeen.

This studio was located about three and a half miles from the home at 6 Piries Lane, Woodside, Aberdeen in which John is said to have been born (according to John’s oldest brother, Alexander). The Elite Studio was a “well known Aberdeen firm of photographers” and the proprietors were George and William Morgan. Although I have been able to track down other examples of their photography work, I have been able to find little more about the two brothers and their business.

What is clear though is that John was dressed in his ‘Sunday’ best and some expense was made to capture this image including some faint colourization – rosy cheeks, brown hair and eyes, brown socks and boots, and of course, John’s prop, the red-brown pail. What John could not have known at the time of his trip to the studio is that in about ten years, he would leave Scotland, never to return, and begin new adventures in Canada.

Music has likely been an integral part of your life, and the lives of your ancestors, just as much as it has been a part of mine. It has often lead me to thinking what is it that our parents listened to, what about our grandparents and great grandparents?

I have previously recounted my mother’s attempts, usually off key, at singing popular songs to me when I was very young. Her favourite rendition was her attempt at ‘covering’ The Crews Cuts’ “Sh-Boom (Life Could Be a Dream)” – she had the ‘Sh-boom’ part down but struggled remembering most of the lyrics, leaving me rather bewildered at the possible meaning and relevance of the song. Her singing though was a break from the usual fare, played on the “hi-fi” in the living room, of opera or Scottish pipes and drums. The greatest shock to my system came in the early 1960’s when, while searching in the seldom used cupboards above the refrigerator that every house has, I discovered that my parents had purchased a copy of Chubby Checker’s “The Twist.” I was horrified at thinking that my parents were secretly listening to the music of ‘my’ generation!

My parents began dating around 1946 as teenagers and no doubt enjoyed the ‘big band’ sounds, as well as the vocal offerings of Perry Como, Nat King Cole, and Johnny Mercer’s “Personality.” They listened to their music on the radio and eventually saw their favourite vocal groups and singers with the emergence of television in the late 1940’s and early 1950’s. My grandparents listened to Gene Austin’s “My Blue Heaven” and to ‘crooners’ like Rudy Vallee and Bing Crosby in the 1920’s and 1930’s as teenagers and newlyweds – made easier by the boom in recording capped by the ‘invention’ of the 33 1/3 RPM long playing album.

As for earlier generations, I’m sure they entertained themselves with ‘popular’ music based on religious, patriotic and nursery rhyme themes as I suspect, or at least have found little evidence to suggest that they might have excelled in operatic arias.

So what about the music in your memory – please feel free to share your them and your comments in the comments section below.

I have previously recounted the immigration to Canada of my great grandparents Alexander Shand Hadden, his wife Jessie McKenzie Gaull and their children, Alexander (or Alec, as he was known), Andrew (Andy), John (Jock), and Edith in 1923. Alexander and his middle son Andy were the first to immigrate, followed later in the year by Jessie and the remaining three children.

I was delighted then when Ancestry.com this week announced that they had added the Canadian Ocean Arrivals passenger declarations (Form 30A) database. This group of records contains the images of the pre-printed form that all passengers, adults and children, arriving at Canadian ports were required to complete. The form was officially in use between June 1, 1921 and December 31, 1924. Only those enroute to the United States were exempt from completing the form. I immediately searched the database and found the Form 30A for all six members of the family, although I had some extra work to do in finding Andy as his form was incorrectly transcribed so that he appears in the index as Andrea Samuel Hadden!

Alexander and Andy sailed on August 10, 1923 from Glasgow, Scotland aboard the S. S. Marloch, picture above. The ship had been christened in 1904 and made its maiden voyage in 1905, originally named as the Victorian, and had accommodation for over 1,600 passengers, the majority of whom, like the Hadden family, sailed 3rd class. Alexander listed that his current occupation was ‘Seaman’ but that his intended occupation was ‘Farm Work.’ He carried three pounds in British currency with him to allow he and Andy to join his mother, Mrs. Helen Gammie, at their destination.

Jessie, Alec, John, and Edith sailed on November 9, 1923 aboard the S. S. Metagama, all bound for Aneroid, Saskatchewan – and their first Canadian prairie winter.

As British subjects, they were not required to complete an immigration application or naturalization papers in order to immigrate to Canada (this would change but not until 1947) so the Form 30A is a great document to now have for the family, documenting their departure from Scotland and confirming my Canadian roots. Of course, I was also pleased to note from the forms that they reported no family members were physically or mentally “defective,” there was no tuberculosis, and no one was “Otherwise debarred under Canadian Immigration Law.”

We have a tendency today to pride ourselves on the advances made with household conveniences. There is a gadget or tool to do almost everything. We can chop, peel, clean and disinfect like never before. Our grocery stores are filled with not only fresh, organic foods but also with ready made or instant everything. Along the way to our modern world though, we have also given up some conveniences – the delivery of some food and products right to our front door. Ice was delivered for the ‘ice box,’ the predecessor of the refrigerator, coal was delivered through a chute to basement coal bins for furnaces, bread and assorted pastries were left at the front door, and milk and dairy products dropped off on porches or in really ‘modern’ homes, placed in a milk chute. The process was simple for residents of the home – you left the empty, glass milk bottles on the porch along with a note detailing your order for the milkman to ‘fill.’ Payment was by personal cheque, not credit card, left, again, with the milk bottle empties.

My grandfather, John Gaull Hadden, and his brother, Alexander Gaull Hadden, were two such delivery men in the first half of the twentieth century. Alexander, or Uncle Alec as he was known to me, my father and his siblings, was a Brown’s Bread delivery man in Toronto. Uncle Alec is pictured above standing beside his horse-drawn delivery wagon. Many years ago, when Uncle Alec identified himself in the photo for me, he also informed me of the location of the photo, taken in 1928. Although there are only fields behind him and no buildings within sight, today that location is considered to be an older, very urban part of Toronto’s east end.

My grandfather, John, delivered milk for Silverwood’s Dairy with whom he was employed for over 35 years, beginning his dairy career on December 17, 1935. In 1947, he became a milk route inspector and, in 1953, a milk route foreman. As a child, my grandfather employed me as his ‘assistant’ – my job was to accompany him to the dairy on Sunday afternoons to balance his books, using a large. pull lever, adding machine. The pay was perfect from my perspective – a small carton of chocolate milk, fresh off the assembly line. Those were the days!

As the result of a car accident in August 1970, John was unable to return to his milk route and so he retired in February 1971.

I was fortunate enough to receive a summary of my grandfather’s employment record with Silverwood’s Dairy through a simple request to them many years ago for the information. With the more recent concerns and issues about privacy, I am not as certain I would be as successful with the same request today. But it costs nothing to ask and the rewards of obtaining this information are well worth the effort.