It’s week 6 of the 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks Challenge, and this week’s topic is Social Media. People often have a love-hate relationship with social media. It has its uses, but they don’t understand why people feel an incessant need to share all the details of their lives. They may have an inner monologue going through their head as they scroll through their feed. “Bill, no one cares that you ate a hamburger for lunch… There goes Cathy, bragging about her kids again… Wicked smart letting everyone know you’re going on vacation to the Bahamas for two weeks, Andrew – don’t complain when someone breaks into your house, moron… The whole world doesn’t need to know you have a cold, Jen. Stop being such a baby... Wow, Mark shouldn’t blast his marriage problems all over social media – that’s private… Really, Sandy? You honestly think we want to see another duck-lipped selfie? God, I wish we could go back to the good old days when you picked up the phone and called someone to find out what was going on in their life!”
Ahhhh… the “good old days” argument is always one of my favorites because people tend to romanticize a past they don’t fully understand. True, the internet and social media platforms have made blasting our most insignificant gripes to our greatest accomplishments fast and easy, but sharing this type of personal information in print is nothing new. Open up any old newspaper and you’ll find the same content in the town section.
This 1902 excerpt from the Daily Kennebec Journal is a great example of a typical town section of the time.
Now try to imagine each notice as a Facebook post. Willie Spaulding posts a picture of his busted-up hand in the ER with a caption like, “Did a dumb thing.” Mrs. John Hanson shares a picture captioned, “Hanging with my besties!” J.C. Scates tags his buddy, Mr. Harvey, in pictures of their hunting trophies. Mr. Cram’s new shed picture earns him many thumbs-ups and comments like, “That looks great, Crammie!” from his friends. A neighbor who barely knows the Hansons writes a long, effusive post about how heartbroken they are to learn of their move, just for the likes and attention. See? It’s not much different.
Like today, people shared if they were sick, even if it was something simple. My great-grandmother, Emilie, had a cold in 1905. Newsworthy enough to be in the paper? Not really, but it’s the same thing I post about on Facebook when I have a cold because I’m basically a giant baby.
People shared purchases, just as they do today. Every proud, new car owner wants to show off their new wheels. My grandfather was no different back in 1926.
Now you might say, “Sure, Julie, but people are just so toxic now and spew hate and drama. It wasn’t like that back then. Editors wouldn’t allow it in the newspaper.” Wrong. Wife Notices were the ultimate way of airing dirty laundry. Nothing screams, “Divorcing!” more clearly.
And as for being toxic, people were allowed to print pretty much whatever they wanted with no repercussions. Back in 1838 in New Orleans, someone accused my 3rd great-grandfather, Charles H. Turner, of being a swindler via a notice in the newspaper and even urged other papers not to hire him.
Our ancestors often shared when they were leaving town or entertaining visitors. This 1933 mention of a visit in The Portland Press Herald not only lists who is visiting, but where they’re from and how they’re all related. As researchers, we can break down brick walls with this information, or answer questions about relationships that go beyond how people are related or where they live. Sometimes we wonder if siblings kept in touch or if cousins who lived in different states even knew each other. Town sections can answer such questions. Even posts that aren’t as specific are worth exploring. The people named are sometimes friends, but often relatives.
There are times when this information yields unexpected clues. I always wondered where my 2nd great-grandfather’s unusual middle name came from – Eugene Jenness Ladd. In the example below, his mother, my 3rd great-grandmother, Mrs. H.M. Holland (Hannah Margaret Rand), was visited by a Mrs. Jenness. I still haven’t figured out whether Mrs. Jenness is a friend or relative, but breadcrumbs like these are meant to be followed!
If you’re lucky, a snippet from the town section can help answer a question. I found an article in a Massachusetts paper about an attack on Stanley L. Turner, the same name as my great-grandfather. The Rhode Island man was robbed, beaten, garroted, and left for dead. When he regained consciousness, he crawled home where his wife and mother helped him into the house. For quite a while, I didn’t know if this was my Stanley or another Stanley. He did live in Massachusetts and Rhode Island for a time, but his mother lived in Maine. This mention in the Mt. Vernon section of the Daily Kennebec in Maine added clarity to the incident and confirmed this was my Stanley. His mother was there because she was visiting at the time.
Newspapers, especially the most gossipy town sections of them, help answer our genealogical questions and solve family mysteries. Social media is nothing more than the modern-day equivalent. Someday, our descendants may scour archives of internet posts and get excited when they learn which car we owned, where we vacationed, or that we learned to make sourdough bread during the pandemic. Will they look up the meaning of “escape room” the same way we look up “whist?” They’ll likely be confused by the sheer number of food pictures and cat memes. One thing is certain – social media will keep on evolving. It didn’t begin with the internet, and it definitely won’t end with it.
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