In my mid-30s, a decade after I started worshiping in the Society of Friends, I heard that my great-grandfather had been a Quaker who moved from North Carolina to Ohio after the Civil War.
I’d no clue and was shell-shocked, in a good way.
That soon got me into genealogical research with another, older, cousin, which in turn led me to others through correspondence. Many of the results can be found on my Orphan George blog.
Central to that research were Quaker Meeting minutes and learning to interpret those records. For family data, they can provide some of the best information before the census of 1850, the first to name everyone in a family, along with ages and some other facts.
Serving as clerk of Meeting and in other roles also deepened my understanding of the faith and practice.
While I gained some skill navigating this field, other researchers specialized in public records, such as wills, tax filings, and property maps.
Admittedly, working as a census taker in 2020, I did develop a sympathy for lapses and errors in the federal population documents.
When it came to researching Quaking Dover, I found myself returning to others’ genealogical summaries, where one version differed from another, as well as other records. I knew to treat what I saw there as tenuous but still helpful.
Somehow, though, it felt familiar.
Jnana's Red Barn 