Thursday, February 19, 2026

Added and Updated MyHeritage Record Collections - Week of 13 to 19 February 2026

 The following Record Collections were ADDED or Updated in the MyHeritage Collections Catalog during the week of  13 to 19 February 2026:

                                       =========================== 

 There are 2 ADDED record collections in the list this past week, and MyHeritage now has a total of  7,527 record collections (an increase of 1 collection from last week).  The collection has 38,823,370,614 records or entries (a decrease of about 36 million entries from last week).  

The number of entries in the family tree collections were last updated this week.

See previous Genea-Musings posts about MyHeritage record collections and features in https://www.geneamusings.com/search/label/MyHeritage.com.

                          =========================================

Disclosure: I receive a complimentary subscription to MyHeritage, and have received other material consideration in past years. I uploaded my autosomal DNA raw data to their DNA product. This does not affect my objective analysis of MyHeritage products. I am a paid subscriber to Family Tree Webinars and love it.

The URL for this post is:  https://www.geneamusings.com/2026/02/added-and-updated-myheritage-record_19.html

Copyright (c) 2026, Randall J. Seaver

Please comment on this post on the website by clicking the URL above and then the "Comments" link at the bottom of each post. Share it on X, Facebook, or Pinterest using the icons below. Or contact me by email at randy.seaver@gmail.com.  Note that all comments are moderated, so they may not appear immediately.

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Ask AI: The Lyle Carringer Family Visits the 1935 California Pacific International Exposition

After developing the AI-assisted ABC Biography of #6 Lyle Lawrence Carringer (1891-1976) of San Diego, California  and ABC Biography of #7 Emily Kemp (Auble) Carringer (1899-1977) of Illinois and California (my maternal grandparents), I wondered what they experienced when they visited the California-Pacific International Exposition in San Diego in 1935.  


(AI NotebookLM infographic of  the Carringer family visit to the fair in 1935)

I asked Anthropic Claude Sonnet 4.5 to write a story about it based on information in the biographies (which are based on my genealogical research), and also information on the Internet about the Exposition. Here is the story about the Lyle Carringer family visiting the 1935 California Pacific International Exposition in San Diego:


A Day at the Fair: The Carringer Family Visits the 1935 California Pacific International Exposition


Saturday, June 15, 1935 - A Special Day

The morning sun was already warming San Diego's streets when the Carringer family gathered at the breakfast table on Saturday, June 15th. Today was special—they were going to the California Pacific International Exposition in Balboa Park, something they'd been planning for weeks. After carefully budgeting, Lyle had saved enough for the admission fees: fifty cents each for himself and Emily, fifty cents for fifteen-year-old Betty, and fifty cents for sixty-six-year-old Georgia Auble. Two dollars in total—nearly half a day's wages for Lyle—but worth every penny for a family outing in these difficult Depression times.

"I want to see everything about gardens and plants," Emily announced, her eyes bright with anticipation. Since their garden had been featured in the San Diego Union just three months ago, she'd been even more passionate about horticulture.

"The Ford Building for me," Lyle said with a smile. "I want to see that V-8 engine demonstration everyone at work has been talking about."

Betty bounced excitedly in her chair. "I heard there's a Hollywood Motion Picture Hall of Fame! And something called the Zoro Garden that everyone at school is whispering about."

Georgia chuckled knowingly. "I suspect I'll find my way to the Old Globe Theater. I heard they're performing Shakespeare, and it's been years since I've seen a proper play."

10:00 AM - Entering a World Transformed

The family took the streetcar to Balboa Park (down 30th Street, west on Broadway, and transferred to the Balboa Park trolley going north on 12th Avenue into the heart of the park), riding with hundreds of other San Diegans heading to the Exposition. As they approached, Betty gasped. The park had been transformed since the 1915 Exposition Lyle remembered so well. While the Spanish Colonial buildings from twenty years ago still stood, magnificent new structures had risen alongside them.

At the entrance, they paid their admission and received their tickets. The gates opened to reveal fourteen miles of exhibits and attractions stretching before them. Unlike the Spanish theme that had dominated in 1915, this Exposition embraced a bold new vision—American progress, technological innovation, and hope for the future.

"Where should we start?" Emily wondered, clutching the free map they'd been handed.

"Let's each pick something," Lyle suggested. "We have all day, and we can meet back for lunch."

Emily's Wonder: The Botanical Building and Gardens

Emily made straight for the Botanical Building, the lath structure she'd admired since 1915. Inside, she found herself transported to a tropical paradise. The botanical garden contained lilies, begonias, fuchsias, aralias, and varieties of ferns she'd never imagined existed. The plants harmonized beautifully with the large groves of eucalyptus and palm trees visible through the lath walls.

She walked slowly through the displays, studying how the plants were arranged, how different species complemented each other, how the lighting filtered through the lath created perfect growing conditions. She pulled out the small notebook she'd brought and began sketching ideas for their own garden at 2130 Fern Street.

An elderly horticulturist noticed her detailed notes and struck up a conversation. For nearly an hour, Emily talked with the expert about tropical plants that could survive in San Diego's climate, about heating systems for delicate species, about pool plantings and shade structures. He mentioned that the heated aquariums in the Botanical Building used the same principles she and Lyle had implemented in their glass house.

"Your garden sounds remarkable," the horticulturist said warmly. "You understand what so many people miss—that a garden should be a living room, a place where beauty serves life."

Emily walked away glowing, her notebook full of ideas that would transform their Fern Street paradise in the years to come. The Botanical Building had given her something precious: validation that what she and Lyle had created was truly special, and inspiration to make it even better.

Lyle's Fascination: The Ford Building and Modern Progress

Lyle found his way to the Ford Building, and the sight took his breath away. The massive white concrete structure, designed in the ultra-modern "Streamline Moderne" style by Walter Dorwin Teague, stood in stark contrast to the Spanish Colonial architecture surrounding it. It looked like something from the future—all clean curves and sharp lines, steel and glass and concrete proclaiming the promise of the machine age.

Inside the Court of the Pacific Nations, a revolving half-globe displayed twelve dioramas of Pacific nations. But what really captivated Lyle was the massive March of Transportation mural painted by Juan Larrinaga on the inside wall of the circular exhibit hall. The 20-foot by 450-foot painting chronicled the entire history of human transportation—from cavemen to spacecraft. Spacecraft! The idea that humans might one day travel beyond Earth filled Lyle with wonder.

In the main exhibition hall, he watched a Ford worker expertly disassemble and reassemble a V-8 engine, explaining each component with practiced ease. Having worked at Marston's for thirty years, Lyle appreciated the precision and skill involved in mass production. The worker explained how Ford's assembly line had revolutionized manufacturing, making automobiles affordable for ordinary Americans.

"Before Mr. Ford," the demonstrator said, "only the wealthy could afford cars. Now a working man like yourself might own one."

Lyle thought about his steady salary as an auditor at Marston's and his Model-T Ford. Could he someday afford one of these newer magnificent machines? The idea seemed both impossible and tantalizingly within reach.

He spent time in the courtyard, resting on one of the many benches provided for weary fairgoers, listening to a South American musical group performing near the V-8 logo fountain. The landscaping, designed by Milton Sessions (Kate Sessions' nephew), featured pepper trees and palms that provided welcome shade.

Before leaving, Lyle signed up for a ride on the "Roads of the Pacific"—a tour around different Pacific roads in a brand-new Ford V-8. The young Ford-trained driver expertly navigated the course while explaining the history of Pacific roads and the virtues of the new Ford automobiles. The ride cost extra, but Lyle considered it money well spent. As they drove, he imagined himself behind the wheel, driving Emily and Betty through San Diego's streets in their own V-8 automobile.

The Ford Building represented everything that impressed Lyle most: American ingenuity, technological progress, the democratization of luxury through mass production, and hope that even during the Depression, better days lay ahead.

Betty's Excitement: Hollywood Glamour and Youthful Adventures

Fifteen-year-old Betty felt like she'd stepped into a dream world. The Hollywood Motion Picture Hall of Fame exhibit featured a stock company of actors signed with the Screen Actors Guild, and she recognized costumes and props from movies she'd seen at the downtown theaters.

She watched demonstrations of movie-making techniques, makeup artistry, and costume design. The Dominos Club of Hollywood had contributed memorabilia from famous actresses including Carole Lombard, Thelma Todd, and ZaSu Pitts. Betty, who'd been studying art at San Diego High School, was mesmerized by the attention to detail in the costume designs.

But it was the Midway that truly captured her imagination. The $1.5 million entertainment area offered relief after walking through exhibits, with amusements designed to delight and surprise. She convinced her grandmother to join her later, and together they explored Gold Gulch—a replica of a California mining community from the 1849 Gold Rush, complete with burro rides.

"Can you imagine living like this, Grandma?" Betty asked, wide-eyed at the rough wooden buildings and dusty streets.

Georgia smiled. "My dear, when I came to America in 1889, many towns looked exactly like this. We've come a long way in just forty-six years."

Betty also insisted on seeing the controversial Zoro Garden, though from a respectable distance. The sunken garden with its lush tropical landscaping featured performers doing exotic dances with little clothing, and while the "Zoro Girls" were scandalous by some standards, Betty was more interested in the innovative garden design—multiple levels creating distinct areas within a single space. She made mental notes for her own future homes.

At Midget Village in the Casa de Balboa building, Betty watched with fascination as little people performed in tiny houses designed to charm visitors. She later learned that many of these performers would go on to appear as Munchkins in The Wizard of Oz. The miniature world reminded her of the dollhouses she'd played with as a child, but seeing real people living in them felt like stepping between childhood fantasy and adult reality.

Georgia's Inspiration: The Old Globe Theater and Cultural Refinement

Sixty-six-year-old Georgia Auble had immigrated from Canada in 1889 and had spent her youth in an era when theater was the pinnacle of cultural entertainment. The newly constructed Old Globe Shakespearean Theater represented something she'd dreamed of seeing in San Diego—a permanent home for serious theatrical productions.

The building itself was magnificent, designed to evoke Shakespeare's original Globe Theatre in London. Inside, Georgia watched a matinee performance and was transported back to her youth, when theater companies would occasionally tour through the frontier towns of her Canadian childhood.

Between acts, she explored the House of Pacific Relations International Cottages in the area between the Ford Building and the plaza. Each cottage represented a different nation among the twenty-one participating countries: Argentina, British Empire, Chile, China, Czechoslovakia, Denmark, Germany, Honduras, Irish Free State, Italy, Japan, Nicaragua, Norway, Panama, Paraguay, Portugal, Sweden, Uruguay, United States, and Yugoslavia.

Georgia spent time in the British Empire cottage, chatting with volunteers about her Canadian heritage. She was delighted to discover that her native Ontario was well-represented, and she shared stories of her immigration journey with younger visitors who had never left California.

At the Palace of Education, housed in the remodeled 1915 New Mexico Building, Georgia attended a lecture on literacy programs being implemented across America through New Deal initiatives. As a woman who valued education deeply and had ensured her daughter Emily received proper schooling, she found hope in these programs aimed at lifting Americans out of poverty through knowledge.

The Standard Oil Building's 108-foot "Tower to the Sun," inspired by pre-Columbian palaces in Yucatan and central Mexico, captured Georgia's imagination with its bold Mayan-inspired architecture. She stood before it, marveling at how San Diego—a city that had seemed so small and provincial when she first arrived in 1889—now showcased architectural styles from around the world.

1:00 PM - Family Reunion at the Cafe of the World

The family reunited for lunch at the Cafe of the World, one of four restaurants serving fairgoers. Despite the expense—more than they'd normally spend on a meal—Lyle insisted this was a special day deserving of special treatment.

As they ate, each shared their favorite discoveries:

Emily bubbled with enthusiasm about the Botanical Building and her conversation with the horticulturist. "I have so many ideas for our garden! We could expand the tropical aquarium section, and I want to try some of those fuchsias in the lath house."

Lyle described the Ford Building's marvels and his thrilling ride on the Roads of the Pacific. "Someday," he said thoughtfully, "we might own a V-8 automobile. It's not as impossible as it once seemed."

Betty talked rapidly about Hollywood glamour, Gold Gulch's Old West atmosphere, and the innovative garden designs she'd seen. "Everything feels so modern and exciting! It's like the whole world is changing right before our eyes."

Georgia, more measured but equally moved, spoke of the Old Globe Theater and her conversations in the International Cottages. "This Exposition isn't just about showing off," she reflected. "It's about bringing people together, sharing cultures, finding hope in progress. We needed this—San Diego needed this—to remember that even in hard times, beauty and culture matter."

Afternoon Adventures Together

After lunch, they explored as a family. They visited the California State Building, now the palace dedicated to California's history and achievements. Inside, exhibits detailed California's Spanish missions, the Gold Rush, agricultural development, and Hollywood's rise as the world's film capital.

At the Palace of Better Housing (today's Casa de Balboa), they examined model homes showcasing modern conveniences—electric refrigerators, gas stoves, modern plumbing. Emily and Lyle studied the layouts carefully, dreaming of future improvements to their own home.

The Standard Oil tower fascinated them all, and they climbed the stairs for a panoramic view of the Exposition and San Diego beyond. From this height, they could see how the city had grown, spreading east toward the mountains and south toward the Mexican border.

They watched the Firestone Singing Fountains in front of the Ford Building, where water jets danced in synchronized patterns. The landscaping around the pool spelled out "Firestone" in flowers—a marvel of horticultural advertising that Emily studied with professional interest.

Evening Magic

As the sun began setting, the Exposition transformed. The lighting experts had created what the Official Guide proclaimed as "the world's greatest nocturnal spectacle." Seven fingers of lights atop the Organ Amphitheater blazed against the darkening sky, and every building was outlined in electric illumination.

The family made their way to the Ford Music Bowl, the 3,000-seat clamshell amphitheater next to the Ford Building, where the San Diego Symphony Orchestra was performing a free concert. The music, broadcast by radio across America, filled the evening air with Beethoven and Brahms.

Georgia sat with tears in her eyes. "To think," she whispered, "that people all across the country are hearing this same music right now. What a marvel modern technology is."

Betty leaned against her mother's shoulder, tired but happy. Lyle held Emily's hand, both of them thinking of their garden at home, comparing it favorably to even the grandest displays they'd seen today.

9:00 PM - Heading Home

As they waited for the streetcar home, the family looked back at the illuminated Exposition grounds. Nearly 45,000 people had visited on opening day just two weeks earlier, and today's crowds had been nearly as impressive. They were part of the 4,784,811 people who would attend the Fair in 1935.

"Will you remember this day?" Lyle asked Betty.

"Forever," she promised. "When I'm old like Grandma, I'll tell my grandchildren about the year San Diego proved it could do anything."

Georgia chuckled. "I'm not that old, dear. But yes, this is a day worth remembering."

What Each Treasure Most

As the streetcar carried them home through the June night, each member of the Carringer family held their own special memories:

Emily carried a notebook full of horticultural inspiration that would enhance their famous Fern Street garden for years to come. The Botanical Building had validated her passion and expanded her vision. She'd learned that their garden wasn't just a backyard hobby—it was art, it was science, it was life itself made beautiful.

Lyle had witnessed the promise of American progress embodied in the sleek Ford Building and its celebration of technology. The sight of that V-8 engine being assembled and disassembled, the ride in the new Ford automobile, the vast March of Transportation mural showing humanity's journey from caves to spacecraft—all of it reinforced his belief that hard work and innovation could overcome even the Depression's darkness. He'd seen the future, and it was bright.

Betty had experienced glamour, adventure, and the exciting energy of a world in transformation. From Hollywood costumes to Gold Rush mining towns, from exotic gardens to miniature villages, she'd seen that life could be magical even in ordinary times. The Exposition had shown her that creativity and imagination could transform any space into wonder. These memories would influence her artistic sensibilities for the rest of her life.

Georgia had found cultural refinement and international connection in the Old Globe Theater and International Cottages. The Exposition reminded her of how far she'd traveled—from a small Canadian town to this beautiful California city hosting a world's fair. She'd seen twenty-one nations represented with dignity and respect, proof that even in Depression times, humanity could choose cooperation over conflict, beauty over despair, hope over surrender.

A Shared Legacy

But more than individual memories, the Carringer family carried home something shared: the knowledge that they lived in a special place at a special time. San Diego, their San Diego, was proving itself capable of remarkable things. The Exposition would eventually attract 7,220,000 visitors over its 377 days of operation in 1935 and 1936, bringing $37.7 million to the city and employing thousands during the depths of the Depression.

For a family weathering economic uncertainty with grace and determination, the Exposition represented validation of their own values: that beauty matters, that progress is possible, that communities can accomplish great things together, and that even in hard times, there is reason for hope.

As they walked the block from the streetcar stop at 30th and Ivy to their home at 2130 Fern Street, Lyle put his arm around Emily. "Thank you for today," he said quietly.

"Thank us all," Georgia corrected gently. "Days like this happen because families choose to make them happen, even when it's not easy."

Betty ran ahead to feed the goldfish in their pools, eager to tell them about the magnificent Botanical Building and all the wonders she'd seen. The fish, of course, were merely hungry—but Betty's enthusiasm made even their ordinary evening feeding feel like part of the day's grand adventure.

Inside their home, as Emily put on the kettle for tea and Georgia settled into her chair with a satisfied sigh, Lyle looked around at his family and his comfortable house and thought about the Exposition they'd visited. The fair celebrated progress and the promise of better times ahead. But for Lyle Carringer, sitting in his living room with his wife, daughter, and mother-in-law, the future was already here.

He had work in difficult times. He had a home they'd built themselves. He had a garden that rivaled anything at the Exposition. Most importantly, he had family who loved each other and faced life's challenges together.

The 1935 California Pacific International Exposition would run until November 11th, when Corporal Joe Galli of the 30th Infantry would play "Taps" from the roof of the Palace of Fine Arts, officially closing the first season. The fair would return for a second triumphant season in 1936. But the Carringer family wouldn't wait that long to return—they'd visit again in September, and again next year, each time finding new wonders and new inspiration.

For now, though, they had their memories of this perfect June Saturday, when San Diego celebrated itself and four members of the Carringer family celebrated being alive, together, in a city and time worth cherishing.

==================================

The Google NotebookLM Video Overview of this story is below. 

This is historical fiction based on known events in the lives of my ancestors - it might have happened this way. The family mentioned is my ancestral family (Lyle and Emily are my maternal grandparents, Betty is my dear mother) and I have significant information about their lives from the available records, but know nothing about their day-to-day lives, especially before 1950.

After I read these types of social history summaries, I wish that I could be a time traveler for one day to visit the Carringer family in San Diego in 1935 and witness their daily lives.  I'm glad that the general lifestyles and occupations are known from historical records and eyewitness accounts.

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Links to my blog posts about using Artificial Intelligence are on my Randy's AI and Genealogy page.  Links to AI information and articles about Artificial Intelligence in Genealogy by other genealogists are on my AI and Genealogy Compendium page.

Copyright (c) 2026, Randall J. Seaver


Please comment on this post on the website by clicking the URL above and then the "Comments" link at the bottom of each post.  Share it on Twitter, Facebook, or Pinterest using the icons below.  Or contact me by email at randy.seaver@gmail.com.  Note that all comments are moderated, so they may not appear immediately.

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Treasure Chest Thursday -- Burial Record of Thomas Hill (1702-1757) in Warminster, Wiltshire

 It's Treasure Chest Thursday - an opportunity to look in my digital image files to see what treasures I can find for my family history research and genealogy musings.

The treasure today is the 1757 burial record of Thomas Hill in the Warminster, Wiltshire, Church of England parish burial records. 

The burial record for Thomas Hill is the fifth record on the page:


The transcription of this record is 

"[1757] [Jan] 23     Thomas Hill"

The source citation is:

Wiltshire, England baptisms, Warminster, Thomas Hill burial entry, 23 January 1757; imaged, "Wiltshire, England, Church of England Baptisms, Marriages and Burials, 1538-1812,"   Ancestry.com (https://www.ancestry.com/search/collections/61187/records/495736 : accessed 18 February 2026), Warminster: St. Denys with St. Lawrence  >  Parish Registers > 1755-1762  > image 33 of 54; Original data in Wiltshire Church of England Parish Registers, Wiltshire and Swindon History Centre, Chippenham, Wiltshire, England.

This is an Original Source record (because it is a church parish record book with information recorded as it occurred) with Primary Information and Direct Evidence of the name and burial date of Thomas Hill in the Warminster parish church.  I cannot be sure that this is the Thomas Hill that married Sarah Adlam in 1725 in Warminster because it is a very common name.

Thomas Hill (1702-1757) was baptized 15 October 1702 in Warminster, Wiltshire, the son of Robert and Elizabeth (Cox) Hill.  Thomas Hill married Sarah Adlam (1692-1773) on 28 June 1725 in Warminster, Wiltshire.    Sarah Adlam was baptized 1 March 1693/4 in Warminster, Wiltshire, the daughter of John Adlam; she was buried 21 July 1773 in Warminster, Wiltshire.    Thomas Hill was buried 23 January 1757 in Warminster, Wiltshire.  Thomas and Sarah (Adlam) Hill had at least 5 children.

Thomas and Sarah (Adlam) Hill are my 6th great-grandparents, through my 5th great-grandfather John Hill (1726-1769) who married Patience Ring (1725-1791) in 1743 in Hilperton, Wiltshire.
 
                               ===========================================

Disclosure:  I have a paid All-Access subscription to Ancestry.com now.  Ancestry.com has provided a complimentary subscription and material considerations for travel expenses to meetings, and has hosted events and meals that I have attended in Salt Lake City, in past years.


Copyright (c) 2026, Randall J. Seaver

Please comment on this post on the website by clicking the URL above and then the "Comments" link at the bottom of each post.  Share it on X, Facebook, or Pinterest using the icons below.  Or contact me by email at randy.seaver@gmail.com.  All comments are moderated, and may not appear immediately after posting.

Subscribe to receive a free daily email from Genea-Musings using www.Blogtrottr.com. 

Wednesday, February 18, 2026

Genealogy Education Bytes - Week of 12 to 18 February 2026

 Welcome to Genealogy Education Bytes, posted on Wednesday afternoon for the past week, where we try to highlight some of the most important genealogy and family history education items that came across my desktop since the last issue.


1) Upcoming Conferences and  Institutes 

Conference Keeper Calendar - has many links to register for and/or view seminars, conferences and institutes.

*  Pinellas Genealogy Society 2026 Annual Seminar, featuring Diane Elder ($$, In-person and Virtual) - 28 February 2026.

*  RootsTech 2026 ($$, In-person in Salt Lake City, Free Virtual) -- 5 to 7 March 2026.

*  Root Cellar Spring Seminar, featuring Drew Smith, MA, MS, MS ($$, In-person, in Sacramento California) - 18 April 2026.


 'Navigating the Future' - Guild of One-Name Studies Conference 2026 ($$, In-person, Portsmouth, England) - 24 to 26 April 2026.

*  National Genealogical Society 2026 Family History Conference ($$, In-person and virtual, in Fort Wayne, Indiana) - 27 to 30 May 2026.

2 ) Upcoming Webinars and Online Classes (times are US Pacific):

Conference Keeper Calendar - has many links to register for and/or view seminars, webinars and classes.

*  FamilySearch MonthlyWebinars (Free)

*  Legacy Family Tree Webinar - Wednesday, 18 February, 11 a.m.:  DNA in Action 1 of 6: Proving Your Pedigree with DNA by Karen Stanbary.

*  Legacy Family Tree Webinar - Friday, 20 February, 11 a.m.:  Emigration and Migration from Yorkshire, England by Jude Rhodes.

*  Legacy Family Tree Webinar - Tuesday, 24 February, 11 a.m.:   Genealogy for our descendants by Janna Helshtein.

*  Legacy Family Tree Webinar - Wednesday, 25 February 2026, 11 a.m.:  50 Most Popular Genealogy Websites for 2026 by Kory L. Meyerink.

*  Legacy Family Tree Webinar - Wednesday, 25 February 2026, 5 p.m.:   Foundations in AI for Family History 5 of 5: Building Your AI Workflow and Digital Crew by Andrew Redfern.

3) Recent Podcasts: 





4) Recent YouTube Videos 





*  DearMYRTLE's Archive:  Mondays with Myrt - 16 Feb 2026
*  DearMYRTLE's Archive:  Book Club: Stripped Bare Guide #3
*  DearMYRTLE's Archive:  Mini-Myrt: Bill Moore

*  Denyse Allen • Chronicle Makers:  What We Accomplished in a 10-Day Writing Sprint

*  Ellen Thompson-Jennings - Family History Hound:  FOREVER Album Cover Designer







*  Gen-AI and Genealogy Made Simple:  Your Genealogy Research Just Got Smarter with AI

*  GeneaBloggers:  Steve Little's Beyond Spell Check


*  Italian Roots and Genealogy:  When immigration stories become movies



*  Marcia Philbrick:  Charles Mentzer Audio Overview








5) Did you miss the last post in this series - Genealogy Education Bytes -  Week of 5 to 11 February2026?


==============================================

NOTE:  If  I missed an upcoming conference or webinar, or a useful podcast or video, in this time period, please let me know in a comment or an email. 

Copyright (c) 2026, Randall J. Seaver

Please comment on this post on the website by clicking the URL above and then the "Comments" link at the bottom of each post. Share your comment on X, Facebook, or Pinterest using the icons below. Or contact me by email at   randy.seaver@gmail.com.  Note that all comments are moderated and may not appear immediately. 

Subscribe to receive a free daily email from Genea-Musings using https://www.Blogtrottr.com.

Life Memoir of Thomas Dill (1755-1839) of Eastham, Massachusetts

I wrote an AI-assisted ABC biography for my fourth great-grandparents Thomas Dill and Hannah Horton in ABC Biography of the Thomas Dill (1755-1839) and Hannah Horton (1761-1796) Family of Massachusetts, based on my genealogical research over 38 years.

I wondered what Thomas Dill might have said in a life memoir told to his grandchildren in 1838. 

(AI Google NotebookLM Infographic for Thomas Dill's life memoir)

1)  I requested Anthropic Claude Sonnet 4.5 to create a memoir told by Thomas Dill about his life in 1838.  The prompt was:  "Please write a life memoir for Thomas Dill based on the attached biography, as she might tell to his grandchildren in 1838."

2)  The AI Anthropic Claude Sonnet 4.5 memoir (edited for accuracy and completeness) is:   


The Life and Times of Thomas Dill

As Told to His Grandchildren
Eastham, Massachusetts, 1838

Come here, children, and sit with your old grandfather a spell. My bones are weary and these eyes don't see as sharp as they once did, but my memory -- well, that's as clear as a Cape Cod morning. You ask me what it was like when I was young? Let me tell you, it was a different world entirely. I was born back when this land belonged to King George, and I've lived to see it become something altogether new. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me start at the beginning.

I was born here in Eastham, way back in 1755 -- the exact date is lost to time, as such things often were back then. I was the youngest of eight children, the seventh son of Thomas Dill and Mehitable Brown. My mother, God rest her soul, died when I was but a small boy, about three years old. I don't remember her face, though I've tried many times. My father followed her to the grave when I was about six. So I was orphaned young, you see.

I was raised by my mother’s sister and her family here in Eastham and over in Wellfleet. Life was hard on the Cape in those days. The soil is sandy, as you know, and doesn't take kindly to farming. We grew what we could -- corn, turnips, some wheat -- but mostly we relied on the sea. Fish, clams, oysters. The ocean gave and the ocean took away, as the saying goes. Many's the widow left when a nor'easter came up sudden-like.

I learned early to work with my hands. By the time I was ten or twelve, I could mend a net, dig for clams at low tide, and help with the salt works. Those were the days when you worked from can-see to can't-see, as we used to say -- from when you could first see in the morning until you couldn't see at night. There was no schooling to speak of, not for the likes of us. A boy learned by doing, and if he didn't learn quick, he didn't eat.

When I was coming into manhood -- maybe eighteen, nineteen years old -- things started getting troublesome with the Crown. We'd hear talk in town about taxes and tea parties up in Boston. The King's ships would harass our fishing boats, impress our men into the Royal Navy. There was a meanness in the air, a feeling that something had to give.

Then came the spring of 1775. Word reached us that blood had been spilled at Lexington and Concord. British regulars had marched out from Boston and the militia had stood against them. The war had begun, though we didn't call it that yet. We thought it might blow over, that the King would see reason. We were wrong about that.

By the turn of the new year, 1776, it was clear this was no small disagreement. The Continental Congress was raising an army. Captain Naylor Hatch -- I knew him well, a Wellfleet man -- was recruiting for a company to join Colonel Bond's regiment. I signed my mark on the first day of January, 1776. I was about twenty years old, still just a boy really, though I thought myself a man.

We marched north that winter. Lord, but it was cold! We went up through Massachusetts, into New York, and then into Canada. The idea was to take Quebec and bring Canada into our rebellion against the King. General Montgomery and Benedict Arnold -- yes, that Arnold, before he turned traitor -- had already tried to take Quebec City on New Year's Eve, just before I enlisted. They'd failed, and Montgomery was killed. But the Congress wanted to try again.

We marched for weeks. My feet were wrapped in rags by the time we reached Chambly. We had nothing to eat but salt pork and hard bread, and precious little of that. When we finally arrived on the 12th of May, 1776, everything was already going to pieces. The smallpox was in the camp -- that was the real enemy, children. You've all been vaccinated, thank Providence, but in my day, the smallpox killed more men than musket balls ever did.

I saw men I'd marched with fall sick and die in their tents, covered in pustules, burning with fever. Some went blind. Others went mad. We tried to keep ourselves separate from the sick, but in close quarters, it was impossible. I caught a mild case -- you can still see the pockmarks on my arms if you look close -- but I was lucky. Many weren't.

By the time British reinforcements sailed up the St. Lawrence in May and June, our army was a shadow of itself. Sick, starving, demoralized. The order came to retreat. We fell back through Montreal, down the Richelieu River, running like whipped dogs. The British and their Indian allies nipped at our heels the whole way. It was a shameful thing, that retreat, but there was no choice in it.

We made it to Lake Champlain by early summer. That's where we dug in -- at Fort Ticonderoga and Mount Independence, across the lake from each other. The command thought the British would come down the lake and invade New York, and they were right about that, though not until the following year.

I spent the rest of that summer and fall in the Lakes, as we called that country. We built fortifications, stood guard, drilled when we had the energy. But mostly we just tried to stay alive. The food was poor, the shelters were rough, and disease still stalked the camps. On the 31st of August, Colonel Bond himself took sick and died. Good man, he was. We buried him at Mount Independence with what honors we could manage.

By the end of December, my year was nearly up. I'd signed on for twelve months, and I'd served every day of it. I was mustered out on the first of January, 1777, and I walked home to Cape Cod. It took me near two weeks in the dead of winter, sleeping in barns when I could find them, in the snow when I couldn't. When I finally saw the ocean again, I wept like a child.

But I wasn't done with the war yet. Maybe it was patriotism, maybe it was just that I needed the pay, but when Captain Salew came looking for hands for his brig, the Sophia Defiance, I signed on. This was different work -- we were hauling flour from Virginia up to Boston for the Continental Army. Not glorious, but necessary. An army marches on its stomach, as they say.

We made several runs between January and August of 1777. The British had warships patrolling the coast, so we had to be clever about it. We'd sail at night when we could, hug the shore, duck into coves when a sail appeared on the horizon. Once we had to throw half our cargo overboard to outrun a British frigate. The captain was hopping mad about that, but better to lose the flour than the ship and our lives.

I learned seamanship on those voyages -- how to read the weather, how to handle a vessel in a storm, how to splice a line and reef a sail. Skills that served me well in later years. By August, though, I'd had my fill. I was tired, children. Bone-tired in a way only a young man who's been through a war can understand. I took my pay and came home to Eastham for good.

The war went on for years after that, but I wasn't part of it anymore. I set about making a life for myself. I worked odd jobs -- fishing, farm work, helping at the salt works. I saved what little I could. In 1782, when I was about twenty-seven, I married Hannah Horton. Oh, she was a lovely girl, your grandmother Hannah. Dark hair, bright eyes, and a laugh that could warm a room. Her father had died when she was young, like mine had, so we understood each other in that way.

We were married on the 18th of May, 1782, right here in Eastham. Started our life together in a little house -- more of a shack, really -- on a piece of land I'd managed to scrape together. Over the next thirteen years, Hannah gave me nine children. Nine! Ezekiel, Obadiah, Seth, Isaiah, Jabez, Elizabeth, James, Daniel, and little Asa. All of you are their children and grandchildren.

Those were hard years but happy ones. We worked the land as best we could. I had fields for corn, some cleared land, a brush lot for firewood, and salt meadow for grazing. We weren't rich -- far from it -- but we got by. The children helped as soon as they were able. Even little ones can pull weeds and gather eggs.

But the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Hannah took sick sometime after Asa was born in 1795. The doctor couldn't tell me what ailed her, just that she was failing. She'd had nine babies in eleven years, and I think it just wore her body out. She died before the year 1797 came in. She was only thirty-five years old.

I was devastated, children. Here I was, about forty-one years old, with six or seven children still at home -- the youngest just a toddler. I didn't know how I'd manage. But you do what you must. A neighbor woman helped with the little ones, and the older boys pitched in more. Ezekiel especially -- he was only thirteen but acted twice his age.

In 1797, I married again. Ruth Linkhornew was her name. A good woman, practical and kind. She helped raise my children as if they were her own. We had about ten years together before she took sick and died. I married once more after that, to Susan Hatch, in 1813. She's been a good companion to me in my old age.

Over the years, I watched my children grow and scatter. Some stayed here on the Cape -- Ezekiel and Daniel both farmed in Eastham. But others left for Boston and beyond, looking for opportunities we didn't have here. Seth, Jabez, James, Elizabeth -- they all made their way in the wider world. I'm proud of every one of them.

Twenty years ago, in 1818, Congress passed a law giving pensions to old soldiers of the Revolution who were in need. I was sixty-two then, and my working days were mostly behind me. I swallowed my pride and applied. Had to go all the way to Boston to swear out an affidavit before a judge. I told him about my service -- the year in the Lakes, the eight months on the Sophia Defiance. I had to admit that I'd lost my discharge papers over the years -- forty-two years is a long time to keep track of a piece of paper when you're moving about and trying to keep a farm going.

They made me file more papers in 1820, prove I was truly destitute. That was a hard thing, children, to stand before the court and declare: 'No Real estate or personal estate; nor any family. I am old and unable to Labour.' But it was the truth. My children were grown and gone, I had no property to speak of, and I couldn't work anymore.

Finally, in 1833, the pension started coming through -- eight dollars a month. Now, I know that doesn't sound like much, but it's kept me fed and housed these last five years. The government hasn't always been good about paying on time, but they've been better than nothing.

You ask me what I think about when I look back over these eighty-three years? So many things. I think about my mother and father, who I barely knew. I think about my brothers -- all dead now, every one. I think about the war, and the boys who never came home from Canada. I think about Hannah, gone these forty years, and how much I loved her.

I think about how much the world has changed. When I was born, we were subjects of King George II. Now there's a Queen Victoria on the throne in England, and we don't care a whit because we're Americans, citizens of our own republic. When I was young, it took days to get a message from Boston. Now there are railroads and steamships. The world is getting smaller and faster.

But some things don't change. The ocean still crashes on the shore just like it did when I was a boy. The wind still howls in winter. Families still gather around the fire in the evening. Babies are still born, and old folks still die, and life goes on.

I don't know how much longer I have in this world. Could be a year, could be less. My body is failing me -- these old bones ache something fierce in the winter, and I can't walk like I used to. But my mind is still sharp, and I wanted to tell you these things while I still could.

Remember, children, that you come from hardy stock. Your ancestors fought for something they believed in, even though it was hard and scary. They worked the land and raised their families through good times and bad. They persevered. That's what we Dills do -- we persevere.

Take care of each other. Honor your parents and grandparents. Work hard, but remember that there's more to life than work. Love your families. Be kind to your neighbors. Stand up for what's right, even when it costs you something.

And when you're old like me, and your grandchildren ask you what it was like when you were young, you tell them. You tell them everything, the good and the bad, because that's how we keep the past alive. That's how we remember who we are and where we came from.

Now run along, children. This old man needs his rest. And remember -- I love every one of you, more than you'll know until you have grandchildren of your own.

-- Thomas Dill
Eastham, Massachusetts
Age 83 - 1838

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3)  The Video Overview of Thomas Dill's memoir, created by the Google NotebookLM AI tool, is: 

5)  I edited the Claude memoir text to correct minor inconsistencies and errors. Every large language model (LLM) AI tool writes descriptive text much better than I can write. The AI tools are very perceptive, insightful and inspiring, creating engaging text in seconds, including local and national historical events and social history detail when requested.

6)  This is historical fiction, based on my own genealogical research. It is what Thomas Dill might have told his grandchildren in 1838.  

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Links to my blog posts about using Artificial Intelligence are on my Randy's AI and Genealogy page. Links to AI information and articles about Artificial Intelligence in Genealogy by other genealogists are on my AI and Genealogy Compendium page.

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