First hand accounts of life at the Cape...Part 1

A final update in the saga of Jan Blanx. Quite simply he disappeared from Van Riebeeck's Journal after his last misdemeanour. I can only assume that Commander Van Riebeeck was only too pleased to get rid of this irritating thorn in his side and packed him off to the 'Fatherland' on one of the many ships returning from the East. The only way to continue a search for him would be to consult documents relating to the Company's employees e.g. discharge papers or further trials, for I don't think that our Jan would have changed his ways much on leaving the Cape! This I will leave to someone else! There are so many interesting things in Van Riebeeck's Journal and it is a must for anyone researching the earliest settlers as well as the future history of the settlement.

In fact journals and diaries remain one of the richest sources of life in general for any family historian and there is a vast array of them to be found that were written in the early days at the Cape. The most famous of these would be those of Van Riebeeck and later that of Lady Anne Barnard, written between 1797 and 1801. Apart from being an accomplished writer, Lady Anne was also an interested and adventurous observer of life in all its facets. She obviously loved people and her great love of animals and her compassion for them is evident throughout her letters and journals. She tells of a buck in the following manner: "I reared him myself, without a mother, and he seems now to regard me as one, following me like a dog, and begging hard at night for Barnard's [her husband] permission to sleep on my feet." She also had a couple of secretary birds and a sea calf which she says "I gave in charge to a slave, with orders to seize the golden opportunity of his bleating to insert the spout of a teapot in his mouth and give him his bellyful of milk." Then there was a penguin "the penguin is half the day in the pond with the calf and the other half of it in the drawing room with me." She had two jackals which were 'the delight of the dogs in the garrison...and allow themselves to be chased all round the flat topped wall of the fortress for about 2 hours," before they hid for the night in a cellar in the Castle. She also had two wild cats, a horned owl and a green chameleon from Madagascar..."but the buck possessed my heart."

Lady Anne left a vivid account of life at the Cape. She mentioned people in detail, she travelled far afield and wrote about who she met and the places at which they stayed. She wrote about the price and quality of food and wine and laughed at those who sneered at the local wines. Her sense of humour is evident throughout her letters most of which were addressed to her great friend Henry Dundas, First Viscount Mellville. She was curious and down to earth when it came to interacting with 'local' people. Politically she was aware of the nuances prevailing at the Cape between the Dutch and the new British occupants and made sure that she did not heed the snobbery of some of her countrymen when it came to socialising.

All in all this is a fantastic read - but there are other diaries which you will find just as fascinating. More on these later.

The Story of Jan Blanx Part 2

You will no doubt be pleased to know that Jan Blanx did indeed survive being keelhauled in the icy waters of the Cape, a truly unpleasant experience even for the most hardy of creatures. If one did not drown while being dragged underwater from one side of the ship to the other, one's body would be scraped to pieces by the hundreds of barnacles clinging to the bottom of the hull. But our Jan was a stout fellow and he made it. He also made it through 150 lashes from the Cat-o' nine Tails. One wonders at the staying power of certain individuals but...let's see what happens next.

The third part of Jan's sentence was to "to work as a slave in fetters for 2 years" but fate was to smile upon him and his fellow prisoners. On New Years Day 1653, after only two and a half months in chains, they were all released "through the intercession of various persons and on promise of amending their conduct". I would imagine that they would have promised anything to get out of those chains!

And that should be the end of the story but alas, Jan Blanx seems to have a penchant for mischief. Just over a month later on February 21st 1653 he and his partner in crime from the previous misdemeanour, Willem Huijtjens were found to have slaughtered a calf belonging to the Company. They made a fire and braaied the meat "in the dunes behind the Lion Mountain" and according to reports this had happened a number of times before. As food was pretty scarce and Commander van Riebeeck was trying so hard to build up his herds, this latest escapade was not well received and they were clapped in irons once more. But this lasted only a few days "as we have so few men who are fit for the necessary work on the Company's fortifications...it has been decided that these men, who are the most robust of them all, should be released upon trust on Monday next and be kept at work until the arrival of the Fleet from India, when their case can be taken in hand again and be settled."

Well to cut a long story short, our Jan was not going to wait for any Fleet from India. He, together with four others, decided to run off again, this time by stealing a galiot (a small boat) and some sheep but before they could carry out this ambitious plan they were ratted on by Jan van Leijen "who previously deserted but now behaves himself better". Blanx, Huijtjens and Dirckssen were caught and 'confined' probably in irons again. The other two escaped but handed themselves over later because they were starving. In the entry in Van Riebeeck's diary for the 19th March 1653 the following sentence was passed:

"Today the Commander and Broad Council for the return of ships came ashore and the cow and sheep thieves were sentenced most mercifully by the same: three were to fall from the yard-arm with 100 lashes and 1 year in irons and 2 also to fall from the yard-arm with 60 lashes and for half a year to do the common labour, in chains." The sentence was carried out on the 21st March. This time they would remain in irons until the 12th August 1653 "after numerous intercessions, and more particularly because they had acquitted themselves with diligence and willingness at the Company's works."

By today's standards that sentence is not merciful at all but once again we should not judge out of the context of the time. I have now read through the second volume of Van Riebeeck's diary and have found no further mention of Jan Blanx but....there is one more volume to go. Our Jan either turned over a new leaf or he left the Colony on one of the many ships that stopped over in Table Bay. I hope we can find out what happened to him.


The above extracts are taken from the Journal of Jan Van Riebeeck - edited by H B Thom for The Van Riebeeck Society and published by A A Balkema, Cape Town, 1952. Well worth reading!


I used the following website in my research:
Galiot

The Wheels of Justice in 1652 - The Story of Jan Blanx Part 1

On this day in 1652, some 355 years ago, an entry was made in Jan van Riebeeck's diary concerning punishment meted out to one of the men under his command at the fledgling settlement at the Cape. It makes for interesting reading - they certainly did not mess around with discipline in those days!

The full entry for the day reads (the square brackets are my own inserts):

" 8th July 1652
Fine, bright, sunny weather, wind as yesterday [gentle north westerly breeze]. Have once more had some carrot seed sown in the soil prepared for it. These last 7 or 8 days of dry weather have again made the ground so hard that picks and mattocks can hardly penetrate the surface. This makes the digging of the moats and the filling up of the points and the ramparts [of the fort] slow and irksome work.

Today Jan Planx, arquebusier on the yacht Goede Hoope, for having wilfully and petulantly defied the captain, was condemned and sentenced by the Council to fall from the yard-arm and receive 50 lashes, as can be seen more fully in the sentence book under today's date."
An arquebusier was a soldier who carried a gun or arquebus, the forerunner of a musket or rifle.

This sentence was not a pleasant one by any means but this did not seem to deter our Jan, who did not appear to be a happy sort of a chap. His hair raising experience dangling from the yard-arm of the yacht did little to prevent him getting himself into hot water again. In little over 2 months he was one of four men who absconded from the settlement at the Cape of Good Hope. On Wednesday 25th September 1652 our Jan (in this entry his surname is spelt Blanx) together with Willem Huijtjens of Maestricht, a sailor; Gerrit Dirckssen van Eltsen of Maestricht and Jan Janssen [later called Verdonck] of Leijden both soldiers "departed from the Cabo de boa Esperance in the evening and headed for Mozambique." This quest was, to say the least, quite ambitious seeing that the distance they had to travel was in the region of 1622kms or 1008 miles, and that is as the crow flies! They took with them 4 biscuits, fish, 4 swords, 2 pistols and a dog and set off on this epic journey which, alas, lasted all of 6 days. It is not surprising that things got a bit rough for these lads because within 7 miles of the Fort they were charged by two rhinoceroses and lost a sword. Before that their dog had chased a porcupine and was wounded in the neck. According to the journal kept by Jan Blanx and later copied into the journal of Jan van Riebeeck, the 4 deserters marched about 25 miles altogether, facing many dangers along the way, before reaching what is believed to be the Hottentots Holland mountains near Gordon's Bay on the 29th September. Jan Blanx writes [we were]"intending to cross the mountains. When we did not meet with much success, Jan Verdonck [Janssen] and Willem Huijtjens began to repent. Nevertheless on the the 30th we continued until the afternoon, when Gerrit also grew tired. I could not manage by myself, so decided to return to the Fort in the hope of receiving ''compassion and mercy'. In God's name."

Fat chance of that I'm afraid. Although they all surprisingly escaped the death penalty, their punishment was extremely harsh. The entry for 10th October 1652 states that Jan Janssen (or Verdonck), who it turns out was the first to suggest absconding, was "to be tied to a pole and have a bullet fired over his head. Jan Blanx, the guide is to be keelhauled. Also to receive one hundred and fifty lashes, and in addition, together with Jan van Leijen [Verdonck], to work as a slave in fetters for 2 years doing the common and all other dirty work. Willem Huitjens and Gerrit Dirckssen van Eltsen, who allowed themselves to be persuaded by Jan van Leijen to abscond are only sentenced to 2 years in fetters as above." The sentences were carried out the very next day.

One wonders if Jan Blanx survived being keelhauled in the freezing October waters of Table Bay when the water temperature would have been about 13 degrees Celcius and if he did, what he must have looked like after 150 lashes to his body. I have yet to see any further mention of him in the translated diary - will let you know if I do.

The above extracts are taken from the Journal of Jan Van Riebeeck Volume 1 - edited by H B Thom for The Van Riebeeck Society and published by A A Balkema, Cape Town, 1952. Well worth reading!

I also used the following websites in my research:
Distance between destinations
Arquebusier

Earthquakes at the Cape of Good Hope

I recently thought about the earthquake that hit the Western Cape when I was a child in 1969. We have not had a major earth tremor since then and I got to wondering how often these things happen in our part of the world and whether they have ever been documented. To my delight I found that there is an historical list of quakes and tremors and on examining it found the data very disturbing. Why? Because according to the patterns displayed in the data, we are long overdue for another 'significant event'. Let's take a look.

On the website of the Council for Geosciences there is a list of known events dating as far back as 1620 when a ship which was becalmed off Robben Island reported "two startling sounds like thunderclaps". The next recorded incident of significance was in 1695 when there was a"loud noise like thunder, earth trembled, no damage, no injury". Modern experts estimated that this tremor would have measured approximately 4.5 on the Richter Scale to produce this kind of effect.

In 1739 there was one that registered 4 on the Richter Scale and in 1766 a "Strong tremor, noise like thunder, at Simonstown, hospital beds knocked against wall, people frightened, only damage caused was that old cracks in walls and gables opened again." That one was estimated to be about 4.3 - 4.8 on the Richter Scale.

In 1809 an earthquake almost identical in intensity to the 1969 quake shook Cape Town. "Three strong quakes, second most violent on 4th [December], loud reports, everybody frightened, fled to streets, tremendous noise continuous few minutes, no wave-like motion, all buildings suffered numerous cracks, water spouts etc. in places. Another 4 tremors from 5th to 12th, some strong" It registered 6.1 on the Richter Scale. Another of 5.6 followed in June 1811: "Two loud reports and shocks, second about same violence as first shock of 4 Dec 1809, strange unusual motion felt, last 5-6 seconds, everybody ran outside, walls cracked, some unsafe, urns again tumbled from parapets"

In November 1835 a tremor measuring 4.8 rumbled through the Cape. "Smart shock, rumbling sound lasted 30 seconds, residents awakened and alarmed, furniture moved, water shaken from glass, windows rattled, no damage to buildings" There was a tremor of similar intensity in 1857. Then there is a bit of a gap until 1902. There could be two reasons for this - either it was a 'quiet period' geologically speaking or quite simply no reports of tremors have been found.

Then in 1912 and 1920 two big quakes measuring 6 and 6.2 on the Richter Scale were experienced and were felt all over South Africa. After this quakes measuring 4 and more were recorded every 2 - 5 years, right through the rest of the 1920's up to the fateful day of 29th September 1969 when an earthquake measuring 6.3 on the Richter Scale rocked the Cape. I remember it well. The comparison to loud thunder is justified and I seem to recall that this roar continued for what seemed like ages. Our family tried to get outside but the floor was shaking so much that we slipped and stumbled around until it was over.

It is now almost 40 years since the 1969 quake - if one looks at the full list on the Council for Geosciences website one can't help noticing that this is quite a long stretch of time without a major incident even though the Ceres fault is quite active and minor tremors are recorded often. Mmmm...makes one think doesn't it?

Another great site to visit is The US Geological Survey website which has a 'Latest earthquakes in the World' map and one can zoom in and see what's been happening.

A Window to the Past

Recently I had occasion to go through some newspapers from the 1880's and it was an eye opener to read about day to day life from that time. Apart from the political and social aspects of the paper there were many reports of incidents concerning the local folk.

There were some amusing items as in the case of the rowing team from Cape Town who were visiting East London to compete in a race. A few days later the local newspaper reporter stated that he did not doubt that the clothing worn by the Cape rowers might be all the rage in Cape Town but it was a little risqué in East London! He was also shocked to the core that one of these rowers had dared to appear in front of a group of ladies dressed in these rowing shorts!! It's a good job they can't see the spandex items available today!

As with all newspapers, reports on accidents always feature prominently. Bad news sells, right? Accidents involving horses and guns as well as drownings were amongst the most prevalent types of accidents reported on and virtually every edition had some kind of bad luck story.

There was the incident involving a 9 year old lad who, instead of saddling up the horse he was going to ride into the village, tied an old sack over the animal's back instead and climbed on. The horse bolted and the boy fell. His foot got caught in the handle of the sack and he was dragged for miles over walls and ditches until the horse was caught. Of course the young lad was quite dead by this time. As I read this article I was shocked at how a young boy of 9 years had been allowed to ride an animal unattended into the village. What were the parents thinking etc etc. but of course things were different then and one cannot judge out of the context of the time. Children grew up around animals in those days; this after all was the main form of transport and all boys would probably have been riding from the time they were knee high.

Accidents involving guns happened more often than one would think for an era when having a firearm was an essential part of the household, especially, on the frontier. One story involved a man who was killed when the trigger of his loaded rifle hooked on a part of his saddle, fatally wounding him. Another story once again involved two young boys who had gone hunting in the veld. On the way home one of the boys put the rifle across his shoulders, behind his neck, and draped his arms across the stock on the one side and the barrel on the other. As they made their way over the rough ground, the rifle discharged a round killing his cousin who was walking next to him. It was reported that the surviving youngster was so traumatised by the incident that the doctor had ordered him to take to his bed. How tragic!

Alex Bowker, a member of the Bowker clan of 1820 settler fame, almost came to a gruesome end while handling a revolver. He did not know it was loaded and pulled the trigger with the barrel facing his head. The bullet missed his head by a squeak but was fired from such proximity that the powder burned his left eye!

On a lighter note there was the report of a farmer's wife who took down her husband's rifle from where it hung over the fireplace and accidentally fired a round right through that outraged gentleman's derrière leaving him unable to sit for quite a while. Bet he thought twice before leaving a loaded gun hanging on the wall. On second thoughts, I suppose that in those dangerous times on the frontier, having an unloaded gun would have been considered to be foolhardy in the extreme.

Drownings were quite a common occurrence. A well known farmer in the frontier area was on his way to another town with a wagon of supplies drawn by four oxen. With him were his wife, two Fingo servants and another gentleman who had come along for the ride. They reached a river only to find that it was running higher than usual. The farmer decided to risk crossing as it was getting late. He forged ahead and was about half way across with the water up to the necks of the oxen, when the two lead oxen's harnesses unhooked from the yoke and they swam away. The two remaining oxen were unable to move the wagon by themselves and the current overturned it sweeping everyone downstream. Only the farmer's two Fingo servants survived to tell the tale and a verdict of accidental drowning was handed down at the official inquiry. This however did not help the 8 minor children the couple left behind.

Unprotected water cisterns on private properties was another common cause of drowning especially of children. Many an article in these newspapers related the sad details of children who went missing only to be found floating in these cisterns. After a few of these accidents one would think that more care would have been taken with their construction.

Reading through newspapers from times gone by is an invaluable tool for reconstructing what life was like back then. They not only give us an insight into the social norms of the day but cover everything from court appearances (in detail sometimes), political events and the day to day happenings which affected the lives of our ancestors. This is the news they would have read and possibly discussed at the dinner table.

The National Library of South Africa keeps copies of the majority of South African newspapers either on microfilm or as hard copies. Spend a day looking through some of them. You will come away with your mind reeling!

Until next time...

Aliwal Road Primary School

I cried on my first day of school. My Sub A teacher at Aliwal Road Primary School (ARPS), Mrs Blomerus took me by the hand and led me to the Sub A classroom where she sat me down, gave me a little wooden board and big dollop of green clay and in her kindly voice soothed away my sadness and helped me to make a little clay figure. She was amazing. The years that followed were the happiest of times.

I have the fondest memories of Mr Haupt the headmaster, or 'Hooftie', as we called him and of Mrs Blomerus who were firm but kindly in their manner. The vice principal, Mr Naude was a bit intimidating and no-one intentionally got on the wrong side of him and although corporal punishment was not used at ARPS, Mr Naude had his own way of dealing with naughty pupils. He had the "Look"! I shudder to think of what would happen to some of the kids today if they ever had to experience the 'look' from Mr Naude. He could wither a child on the spot with one of his stares and, especially the boys, would feel the effect of one of his controlled but scathing tongue lashings if they stepped out of line. He did not brook any bad manners or bad form when it came to the classroom or playground.

Hooftie on the other hand was like a kindly grandfather. If you were ever summoned to his office for a misdemeanour you felt so bad about it for disappointing him that you made sure you never did it again. He would talk softly and make you understand why you should not do things like that. We all loved him. Assembly was held every morning when Hooftie would read from a children's Bible and we would sing things like "Jesus loves me this I know" and "All things Bright and Beautiful". Then Mr Haupt would give us a little talk. He retired in 1970 after many many years as principal of the school. On his last day the school presented him with a cheque for R400.00 which he was going to use to spend time caravaning around the country. Sounds such a little now but back then it was a small fortune.

The school itself was founded as a School of Industry for Girls in 1836 by Lady D'Urban, wife of the Governor of the Cape. In 1909 it became co-ed and changed its name to Aliwal Road Primary School and continued until 1988 when it was forced to close due to dwindling numbers. I remember hearing of its closure with great sadness.

Because of its great historical value, the building has been preserved and it is now an education museum as well as a Centre for Conservation Education currently under the curatorship of Ms Sigi Howes. Part of the museum's function is to collect as much archival material as possible on schools all over the country. They have for instance the most amazing collection of school brass bells and very old classroom desks and equipment. Some schools are very well represented and have box files full of photographs and even items of uniform dating back years and years. The first time I visited the museum I eagerly looked for the box file on Aliwal Road school and to my great disappointment found only a handful of items in the box. For one of the oldest schools in the country it saddens me that all that history is 'missing'. I immediately went home and looked through all my photos and old report cards and made copies which I gave to Sigi the next time I was there. I even have my old Prefect's badge and house badge (blue for D'Urban - the other house was Van Riebeeck which was yellow...more orange really) which I am a bit loathe to give up just yet.

Please please....if there is any body who went to ARPS please contact me. I will co-ordinate any material and hand it over to Sigi who I am sure will be thrilled. She is planning to write a comprehensive history of the school and is busy collecting information. Without your input a valuable part of Cape history could be lost forever. I will include a photograph of the school taken in the 1960's shortly.

History? Bah Humbug!!!

Winston Churchill once said: "The further back you can look, the further forward you are likely to see." I like that - comes in very useful when sermonizing to teenage daughters on the merits of learning for their history tests. There is so much truth in that statement and yet it is almost impossible to get young people to read about history let alone enjoy it. Why? Where does it all go wrong? Hang on...I hear the philosophers among us saying maybe 'the history haters' are all 'right' and us 'history huggers' are all 'wrong'; that history is just a boring old pile of stuff that happened in the past and we should all just forget about it and move on. *thinks very hard about that...mmmm* Nah. I don't buy that theory. History has everything to do with the present and the future. Respect for the past is respect for what one's ancestors have achieved, what they strived for and what we can learn from the mistakes they made, after all we are geographically, physically, spiritually and financially where we are today because of the choices they made in their lifetimes.

When I was at high school we were fed a very bland diet when it came to history. We learned everything parrot fashion just to get through the dry, boring syllabus and nothing was ever done to make it more interesting. We did not discuss, debate, challenge or unpack, as they say today, any part of it. So my love of history certainly did not come from that quarter. There was also no television to switch on so that we could watch excellent documentaries nor was there any Internet to surf. So my love affair with history began with my family and in libraries . My parents encouraged reading and nurtured my tender interest in archaeology. We often visited the library - all those fascinating books on Ancient Egypt and underwater archaeology published by Life (anyone remember those?). As a kid I particularly loved books on dinosaurs, fascinated that these creatures had ruled the earth for millions of years and then 'Poof' ...gone in the blink of an eye (well, in evolutionary terms that it is). Doesn't that last part make the hairs on your neck stand up and a niggle of concern tickle your grey matter? If it could happen to them, then what about us and our blatant disregard of the warning signs of global warming, large scale extinctions of animal species and the era of super bugs. Maybe the next era in evolutionary terms will be that of viruses...but I digress.

History can be made interesting. One only has to look at the example set in many British Museums where re-enactments and interaction are the order of the day. The recent film "A Night at the Museum" starring Ben Stiller sparked a lot of interest and I read somewhere that one of the Museums in Cape Town had staged a Night at the Museum 'experience' where actors posed as the people in the exhibits and came to life to huge shrieks from the public.

There are exhibits in British Museums where one can experience what it was like to be in a World War One trench with the sound of gunfire and flashes of artillery lighting up the set - even the smell of rotting mud I am told. Never having been to it I am not sure if the last part is true but with or without the mud, history needs to be brought to life in order for younger generations to become interested in it. When children begin to ask questions about what they see then you know they are interested. When my children ask questions about history I am so happy I have to stop myself from bombarding them with a lot more than they bargained for!

The murder of historian and raconteur David Rattray was a very sad event and it made me think about him and what he had achieved when it came to bringing history to life in this country. He was a story teller of note specialising in the Anglo-Zulu wars and he would take people out onto the plains where the battles were fought and one could feel the tension rise as he told how the impis had appeared on the hill 'over there' and the pandemonium that followed below. Apparently no-one who heard him had anything but praise for the man and his fans amongst others included Prince Mangosuthu Buthelezi - traditional Prime Minister of the Zulu Nation and Prince Charles. Read Prince Buthelezi's tribute to David Rattray - it says everything (click on Funeral Tribute). If only there were more people like David and I am sure there must be, who would be given more prominence on our TV channels and at our schools so that a lively interest in history would be sparked.

Lament of the Confused Genealogist
(acronyms to be pronounced as words not letters)

MOOCs and MOKs
KABs and DOCs
See Ohs and Illiquid Trials

TABs and NABs
MOGs and VABs there are
Files for miles and miles

Where to begin?
My head’s in a spin
My ancestors are lost in these tomes

I’ll start with a MOOC
It’s the best place to look
To rattle up some of their bones

(attributed to Pete Blogg the famous Irish / South African Genealogist and expert on ancient Whisky drinking practices. No one has been able to verify that this is indeed his work as he has disappeared. Last seen clutching a Volume of Death Notices, and shouting “Prepare to meet thy Tome.” (Very strange indeed!)

This is a picture of a MOOC taken by

a hidden camera. MOOCs are generally

shy and should be approached with

caution as they are likely to go to pieces.

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Springbok Radio

I have to smile when I hear people say that one should not live in the past…after all that’s where I spend most of my day and I love it!!! It often causes mild alarm to appear on the faces of those who find history boring or irrelevant but, what the heck, I get my revenge by thinking: “Everything you do Buddy, is anchored firmly in the past. You can’t get away from it. You can’t even ignore it because it is the one tangible dimension of time which pervades every inch of ground you walk on, every building you see and every person you meet.” *laughs maniacally*

Seriously though, there are certain ‘places’ in the past that I love to visit over and over again. Too many to mention here but I am going to mention one in particular because this is a part of South African history that has touched many of us personally. I am talking about Springbok Radio…The Station for Brighter Broadcasting!

When I was growing up, Springbok Radio was a fundamental part of our household. It was there when my Mom made supper, it was at the dinner table when we listened to the “The World at 7pm” (mostly with Dennis Smith, Neville Dawson or Victor Mackison reporting) and afterwards it would keep us around the table over a cup of coffee, riveted to another episode of No Place to Hide with Mark Saxon and Sergei (do you remember Sergei’s faithful pistol called Petruschka?) .

What wonderful days they were. There was no television service in South Africa until 1976 and before that radio was King. Programmes such as Inspector Carr Investigates, Call Back The Past with Percy Sieff, The Creaking Door, The Top Twenty hosted by Gruesome Gresham (David Gresham) which my brother and I used to listen to clandestinely on a Saturday night when we were supposed to be asleep…and what about the Chappie Chipmunk Club, Brian O’Shaughnessy as Jet Jungle, Test the Team with Dewar McCormack as quizmaster and Venture with Kim Shippey?

The live studio shows were always popular too – The Surf Show Pick-A-Box with Bob Courtney, the Caltex Show with Peter Merrill, Check Your Mate with Percy Sieff and Judy Henderson and Fun With The Forces also with Percy Sieff. The Super Dooper Shopper Show recorded live in shopping centres around the country became quite the thing where people could win expensive appliances and shopping vouchers.

Of course no one could forget Friday nights when you heard the words “They prowl the empty streets at night…waiting… in fast cars and on foot…living with crime and violence….” Squad Cars! Ja… those were the days! Loads and loads of other programmes spring to mind but I better leave it at that or we’ll be here all day (well…er…I don’t mind if you don’t mind.)

As fate would have it, after I left school, I landed a job in the SABC’s operations or technical department in Cape Town and had the privilege of working with many of the personalities who had ‘joined’ us in our home via the radio when I was younger : Bill Prince, Dewar McCormack, Peter Merrill, Brian O’Shaughnessy, Judy Henderson, Percy Sieff, Pip Freedman, Leslie McKenzie, Andre Botma, (drama producer of the Destined Hour and Lux Radio Theatre), Andre Brink, Driaan Engelbrecht (Afrikaans drama producer) to name but a few. In the first few weeks in my new job it was quite amazing to meet the faces belonging to the voices I knew so well over the air. Later I was to work with Colin Fluxman, Martin Bailie the little Irish Devil and Oom Dana Niehaus. I also had the privilege of working one weekend with Tannie Esmé Euverard. She was just as kind in real life as she sounded on the air.

Springbok Radio fell silent on New Year’s Eve 1985. Since its first broadcast on the 1st May 1950 it had been a presence in every South African home. It was vibrant and had huge variety in its programming format not to mention the personalities. Some of them were celebrities like modern day film stars and would be mobbed at outside broadcasts. But for all that, the Powers That Be at the SABC in Johannesburg decided that, with the advent of television, Springbok Radio was no longer commercially viable and that was that. I still cannot believe that skillful repositioning of the station would not have worked; after all it has been done with other stations within the mighty SABC.

I was in the Cape Town studios on that last day. I had recorded and done live programmes for the station for almost 8 years so it was a sad occasion for me, as it probably also was for many of my colleagues. Some of the personalities were absorbed into other areas of the industry – some went to other radio stations like Percy Sieff who hosted his Zoom with Oom show on Radio Good Hope on Wednesday nights. Brian O’Shaughnessy jumped the great divide into television becoming famous as Buller Wilmot in the TV series The Villagers and ended up producing radio drama in Cape Town for the SABC’s English Service. Martin Bailie also successfully made the switch to television. Many did ‘voice over” work recording radio commercials and some went into theatre. But whichever way you look at it something died the day Springbok closed down. It felt like an entire era had come to an end as indeed it had and whilst I continued to work for radio for the next 10 years it just did not feel the same. Brings to mind the song by The Buggles – Video killed the Radio Star.

One of the best sites for information and sound clips on Springbok Radio is that of the Pumamouse - Enjoy!!!

Another very good website is the Springbok Radio Preservation Society

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Of Spitfires and Fighting Women

A very Happy New Year to all genealogists and fellow Blog Dwellers!!! Here’s hoping that 2007 will be unbelievably, awesomely, thrillingly rewarding for you and may the little Blue Bird of Happiness fly very carefully over your glass of champers!

Spitfire

Speaking of things that fly – I am very proud to show you this painting by my Dad Michael Warr who lives in the Little Karoo town of Barrydale in the Cape. It is an oil painting commissioned by Mitzi Stokes the daughter of WW2 air ace, Group Captain Petrus ‘Dutch’ Hugo. Hugo was a South African who joined the Royal Air Force in 1938 and flew throughout the war in various places. He was renowned for his excellent flying and combat skills.

Many hours of research went into this painting to ensure its accuracy. For example, working from a small black and white snapshot of Hugo’s Spitfire taken on the ground in Corsica, Michael was able to identify the squadron and therefore the exact model of Spitfire that Hugo had flown. He also had to find the exact colours used in the camouflage markings for that particular squadron. No mean feat. The way the Spitfire is depicted in the painting shows it off to its best advantage. I think Michael has done an excellent job.




A very good summary of Dutch Hugo’s achievements can be found in the Military History Journal (article no. 4) - (South African Military History Society)

Women in the Military.

My friend Anne Lehmkuhl has started a project which I know will make a valuable contribution to the heritage of this country. She aims to write an account of South African women in the military and has begun to put together material she is ferreting out in the most amazing places. Apart from the obvious sources like the Military Museum, Airforce Museum, Ysterplaat, Defence Force Archives, Pretoria etc, Anne is also gathering firsthand accounts of South African women who served in the Second World War, the South African Bush War, the Boer War, the first fighter pilots, helicopter pilots etc. It stands to reason there will be a lot of ‘firsts’ in this account but that is not the sole reason for doing the project. Anne felt that so much has been achieved by South African women in the military throughout the ages that the time has now come to tell their stories.

Having served in the South African Air Force herself, Anne is highly qualified to evaluate and follow up on any information she finds. The book is limited to South African women who have served in the military but can cover any time frame or place in the world. If anyone would like to share their stories, photos etc. please contact Anne - she would love to hear from you.

Hey Anne – how about a few snippets from time to time…as a kind of preview????

ROBBERS and CHRISTMAS

Time flies doesn’t it? Almost three months gone and not a word from the errant Genealogist. Tut tut!! That’s really bad. However…as an excuse (you can skip this part if you don’t want the technical bits) I have been rather distracted by a spate of break-ins in the area in which I live (38 in about a month) and to be honest I thought it only a matter of time before our house was targeted. All the incidents occurred around 3am when all good citizens should be abed (barring those who are protecting the said good cits of course) so yours truly, being a real worry-wart, could not sleep during the wee hours. (My nickname for the foreseeable future is Grumpy).

Anyway, one morning I was checking out the grounds after another sleepless night in which I swore I heard ‘noises’ out in the darkness and was pleased to discover that there is naught amiss with my hearing. The thieves had robbed a house two doors down, used my garden wall as cover to empty and dispose of now useless wallets etc. and then jumped over another neighbour’s wall to rob him! I think we have a guardian angel looking out for us because the robbers used our grounds as a thoroughfare and did not smash our invitingly unprotected patio doors. Either that or they thought “This house looks like it won’t have a flat screen TV and a laptop, let’s hit next door instead, they have a satellite dish.” Have since had one of those slam-lock thingies installed, so feel much safer now.

I think the police got fed up of getting calls from our neighbourhood every five minutes so just before dawn one morning they decided to send in helicopters and police on foot with BIG guns - SWAT style. They apprehended two robbers. Mmmm…they could not have been the only ones but nevertheless it has helped. With all of this and getting a new puppy into the household my creative, genealogical Muse decided to depart for more receptive pastures and I have only just managed to coax her back.

Isn't she gorgeous!! This is Minky (started off being called CoCo but every one calls her Minky now....)

So, having got all that off my chest I must tell you that I have not exactly been idle over the past (almost) three months. The grey matter has been hard at work mulling over all sorts of ideas (this is what happens when you can’t sleep) and hopefully some of them will be revealed in the weeks to come. Can’t let all the cats out of the bag in one go, can I?

CHRISTMAS

I hope everyone has had a truly Blessed Christmas. We had a fairly quiet one for a change and did not overdo the feasting part… well not too much anyway. This did not deter me from having the traditional afternoon snooze though. Whilst in that blissful state I could not help thinking about accounts I have read of Christmases spent in very different surroundings and under very different circumstances. For one I am thinking of the Boer War (or the South African War / Second Anglo-Boer War whichever rocks your boat). I prefer the latter as the ‘official’ name myself – no ambiguity there – you know exactly who was fighting whom. Anyway – I have a book called “Boer War” compiled and edited by Nicholas Riall the grandson of one Malcolm Riall, a heliographer in the Prince of Wales Own (West Yorkshire Regiment) from 1899 to 1902.

In his diary Malcolm describes Christmas day 1900 like this:

“Men are on full rations today, but through some mistake there is not enough bread and they get biscuits instead. Great slaughter of chickens and turkeys which have been fattening up round camps for months past for Christmas dinners.“

Another description of a past Christmas which is a little more poignant for me because my Great Grandfather and his family were all there, is that of Christmas 1899 during the Siege of Kimberley. From a diary written during the siege by T. Phelan and published in 1913 under the title “The Siege of Kimberley : Its Humerous and Social Side” there is mention of the appalling heat on Christmas Eve and how grateful they all were that they had cooler weather on Christmas day itself and had not all been ‘cremated’. The next morning they enjoyed a Christmas breakfast:

“Christmas breakfast consisted of black tea, khaki bread and golden syrup – an appetising rainbow on a ‘merry’ morning.” He mentions the thrill of being served a dish of real butter by their landlady. “It was an astounding phenomenon in itself but the sharing of it in a season of famine with the poor relations like her boarders was the kindest cut of all. Butter it was; we remembered the taste and there was the circumstantial evidence of our eyes.” Amazing how small things can light up one’s life in a situation like that.

The part about Cecil Rhodes “with characteristic thoughtfulness” sending large quantities of Cape brandy down to the ‘camp’ where the soldiers were is too long to include here but the following sentence from the account sums it up: “The quantity of what was styled Cape brandy consumed in camp baffles computation.” 'Nuff said!

Well that’s it for now – we too were well stocked up on our own giggle juice to help usher out the Old Year and ring in the New – not enough to baffle computation though. More on that later.

Oh yes – I once came across a death notice for lady whose surname was Christmas. Her parents had baptised her Mary (Evelyn). Poor thing. I have the death notice to prove it.

History Matters. This is the name of a campaign launched in Britain by English Heritage, the National Trust and the Heritage Lottery Fund in order to find out exactly what people think about history and its place in everyday life. By doing this they hope to create a heightened public awareness of the value of history in the present in order to preserve Britain’s heritage in the future.

I read about this campaign in the July and August editions of the BBC History Magazine. This magazine by the way, is a publication, which covers not only British history but also world history so it is relevant to anyone who is interested in history in general. Its contributors are all highly respected writers, historians, professors and broadcasters and they all put a different spin on the interpretation of history which I find refreshing.

The “History Matters” website states the following about the aims of the “History Matters – Pass it on” campaign:

“…it is all about raising awareness of the importance of history in our everyday lives and encouraging involvement in heritage in England and Wales. Our goal is to build public support and interest in looking after our history and heritage - today and in the future.”

So, here I am, thousands of kilometres away in sunny South Africa thinking “How does this affect me? Why does history matter to me?’ Firstly I have a sneaky suspicion that I am just a very nosy person who likes to know ‘what went on back then’, why people did what they did and ultimately what the consequences of their actions were. I get a kick out of unraveling mysteries but more than this, it is understanding one’s own ancestral past and indeed the past on a global scale which is the key to understanding issues that are still with us today. Issues that will influence our own decisions, the consequences of which will appear in the history books of tomorrow.

Trying to live exclusively in the present is like looking at a tapestry from very close up. You see all the intricate stitching, texture and some colours but you will not know what the tapestry depicts until you stand back and are able to see the entire thing. Sounds simplistic but it is actually that simple.

One of the people who was asked by BBC History Magazine to give her view of why history matters was Ludmilla Jordanova, a professor of history at Kings College, London. Amongst other things she said: “It matters because it is everywhere, in streets and houses, parks and palaces, machines and money, places of worship and gardens of remembrance. How can we, an essentially nosy species, not care about what envelops and shapes us?”

I couldn’t agree more.

Everywhere you look there are little historical signposts in our lives – the ones which, with a little bit of investigation, reveal new horizons and take us on journeys where we will learn to understand and place in perspective the things that influenced our ancestors, the things that shaped our present landscapes. Every step of the way, if one is observant enough we come to an “O-o-h so that’s why!!” moment in our day-to-day lives. But only if we are willing to see these things; only if we are taught to recognize the value of what we are looking at.

One thing that really made my eyebrows rise a notch or two when I read about this campaign is that Britain is so history conscious, they are surrounded by it wherever they go, wherever they live because it is so visible. There are 900 year old churches in just about every village. There are castles and palaces, Roman ruins and battlefields. Their tourism industry thrives on this and their historical buildings are generally well preserved. Britain’s museums are actively promoted. In fact Britain’s entire brand image is History. Why then would they feel the need to launch a campaign of this nature if they had not detected a shift in their nation’s respect for and perception of the past? That’s a scary thought. If they perceive a problem with all they’ve got then down here at the Southern tip of Africa we need to take a long hard look at our own situation.

We stand on the brink of new historical awareness, one that still needs to be grown but if Britain feels the need to launch a campaign of this nature then we ought to re-examine how much effort and funding goes into the building of our own nation’s historical identity and public awareness of the past. Is enough being done?

BBC History Magazine
History Matters

Genealogical job hazards

I have a problem with being sidetracked. There…I admit it! Not distracted mind you. No…definitely not distracted as some perfectly mean individuals would have it, but sidetracked. I make a definite distinction between the two because in my case being sidetracked often leads to amazing discoveries albeit not the ones you were meant to be making. Being distracted on the other hand usually leads to a game of computer Sudoku – great fun but not very constructive.

I have started a whole project based on things I have discovered whilst being sidetracked. I have tentatively called it “Past Lives” and it is a collection of stories about ordinary people who lived at the Cape in the 19th Century. Each chapter deals with a different person as I have pursued them across worn and yellowed archival pages. Some of them I have got to know very well indeed. Others elude satisfactory explanation but all, I hope, will live again in some way through these stories.

This whole sidetracking phenomenon must have something to do with a primordial part of the brain that likes a good chase. You latch onto something which gets you thinking: Why did this happen, who was this person, what was the outcome? And you’re off chasing their spoor through dusty volumes, in and out of archive repositories, dodging red herrings and trying your best to resist other interesting spoor along the way.

I suppose we ancestral sleuths have much in common with forensic detectives like those in CSI. We too are often presented with very little in the way of solid information and we have to investigate every possible lead in order to trace our ancestors and so link them to their forefathers or descendants. Accessing original written sources is the most important part of this process but aren’t we lucky that we also have modern technology at our fingertips in the form of the internet, online databases, access to photographs, documents and e-books to help us along the way. Alas, this is exactly where most of the sidetracking comes in. It is fairly easy to search for things in this manner and well…one thing leads to another…

At least something concrete is emerging from my propensity for being sidetracked. I can only say that it is a great adventure and one’s general knowledge improves by leaps and bounds. It is definitely a job hazard with benefits.

The more things change, the more they stay the same…..

As I trawl through archival material I am constantly struck by the similarities that exist between the present and the past. Individuals have come and gone but the things to which they aspired and the things they got up to back then were and are essentially the same. Now I can almost hear you say that things could not possibly have been as frantic and twisted then as they are today. No? Let’s take a look at a few similarities. Let’s start with families. I have come across many, many cases throughout the 19th Century where families were fragmented by desertion, divorce or death. Sound familiar? Bear in mind that if a husband died the wife was obliged to either marry again quickly in order to feed herself and her children or she would have to have been left some means of supporting herself.

Many times it is the wife who died young and it is not difficult to find a reason for that either. On many a death notice there would be up to 9 or 10 children listed, the mother’s death sometimes occurring soon after the last baby was born. What was a man to do with 9 children if he had to go out and work? Well, he too remarried quickly and would often then proceed to have another brood of children with the second wife. At least we have the option of birth control today.

Divorces, especially in the early 1900’s were for the very same reasons as we have today. …Malicious desertion, physical abuse, intemperate habits, adultery etc. etc. I recently read through a court case in 1893 where a man was convicted of theft for the second time in a year and sentenced to 2 years hard labour on the Breakwater. By trade he was an ironmonger and had a business in Cape Town. He had a wife and three young daughters under the age of 6 years. Why would he resort to theft? Like many of our modern day cases, he had a drinking problem and couldn’t hold down a job. He eventually came out of prison and disappeared out of his family's lives forever.

The equivalent of motor vehicle theft in the 1800’s was theft of horses. Instead of reporting make, model and chassis number to the authorities you would report the loss of a brown mare about 9 years old, white star on forehead, marked right ear swallow tail, left ear slit and hopefully someone would spot it and tell you where to find it. Of course animals could do something that cars cannot do, they could wander off by themselves and would often end up at the local pound. The Pound Master would then sell your wandering transport if you did not collect it within 6 weeks.

The 1800’s equivalent of street children? The Government Gazettes have hundreds of entries for ‘destitute children’ who, unless claimed were indentured “to some fit and proper person” mostly people with trades or to farmers. In the Government Gazette of 7th April 1876 the following entry appears:
”Wheras Africa Jantje, a destitute Hottentot boy about 10 or 11 years of age, who states that his Father and Mother are both dead, is at present with W Williem Keys, at Lushington in this District, notice is hereby given that unless the said Africa Jantje be claimed within six weeks from this date, by some relative or friend able and willing to support him, he will be indentured according to law. [signed] Alexander Bisset, Resident Magistrate, Seymour, 29th March 1876.” Makes you wonder what became of young Africa – did anyone come along to claim him? I seriously doubt it. His family, if he had any, would more than likely have been unable to read and if they could, the Government Gazette was not delivered door to door back then (still isn’t for that matter).

One thing that was easier to achieve back then than it is today, was the ability to just disappear or to change one’s name. The CO or Colonial Office Archive series in the Cape Town Archives has numerous letters from worried relatives in England and elsewhere looking for family members, mostly male, who had left their country of birth to enter the Cape Colony and were never heard of again. Some did it to evade the law, some to evade their spouses or family, others to seek their fortune. The Colonial Office would publish these queries in the Government Gazette and in the 3rd December 1895 edition alone there 21 missing persons listed. The entries look something like this: “Henry John Palmer – came to the Cape Colony from New Zealand about the year 1868 and supposed to have proceeded to the Diamond Fields.” and “Garlick or Knoblach – came from Germany to Cape Colony a long time ago and is supposed to have been in business in Cape Town on his own account.” Others simply had these meager facts. “George Rodwell last heard of at Cape Town about 12 months ago.”
Name changes must have occurred more often than we think. Apart from the usual small changes which took place over time, like Petersen to Peterson, I have tracked some who who anglicised their names from Dutch or German and sometimes from English to French! Johan became John, Lourens became Lawrence and Pieter became Peter. The Frenchified one was quite unusual in that this man changed his first names from William Henry to Henri de Clunison (a play on his original surname) and then added his newly acquired surname. I have still not been able to ascertain why he wanted to change his identity. Just goes to show that you have to try all sorts of variants on the spelling of names when looking for your missing links!

More from the Chronicles of a wandering Genealogist next time (or should that be wondering???)

Theft by any other name, smells as foul…..

Today I would like to have my first BlogWhinge. (Not to be confused with being on the soap box, by the way, which is more a platform for sermonising). A BlogWhinge is simply my way of giving vent to the injustices of life and because this is my BlogSpot I suppose I can jolly well have a whinge if I want to.

My whinge is about theft and the fact that some people cannot keep their hands off of other people’s things. By now you have probably deduced that something of mine has been stolen and I am feeling highly peeved about it. (this is a Family BlogSpot so I am deliberately choosing words like peeved over other infinitely more suitable phrases to describe my feeling of indignation. I will leave these to your imagination.)

Yesterday morning at about 06:15 whilst trying to catch another 2 minutes of shut-eye under my cozy duvet before getting up, I heard some strange noises coming from outside. On investigating I found to my dismay, that the tap for the water mains and the entire water meter were missing.!!!! By the looks of the exposed pipes you could tell that they had both been cut just below ground level and I had no way of turning the water off!! The spectactular and noisy jet of water spraying into the night sky was something to behold, rivaling that of the Adderley Street fountain. A brisk wind blew the spray into my next door neighbour’s garden, saving him the trouble of watering it later on. To cut a long story short, the municipality eventually came and replaced the missing parts with plastic ones and everything is now back to normal. All except my feeling of indignation and anger that is.

Apparently many neighbourhoods have been thus vandalised. The brass and copper fittings find their way to scrap metal dealers for a few Rand courtesy of these scum buckets that prowl our streets in the dead of night. I think it is the shady scrap metal dealers who should be watched like hawks and raided on a regular basis as these are the same criminals who receive copper cables stolen from railway networks, Telkom and Eskom, the theft of which greatly inconveniences thousands of people on a regular basis. May their murky little souls be held accountable one day.

Theft touches all our lives at one time or another and we can only take sensible precautions in order to minimise it happening to us in the first place. But what about out here in the genealogical world? How vigilant are we? Theft is just as evident in our world as in our local neighbourhood. Just the other day I was shown an article in a newspaper where an entire section had been copied verbatum from a published book with no credit to the author. Plagiarism...that’s theft with a capital “P”. We must guard against it at all times. (now I’ve jumped on my soapbox)

When it comes to the Internet many people plagiarise entire family trees without one single twinge of conscience simply because it is hanging out there in ‘cyberspace’ for everyone to see. This is a BIG no-no!!! Acknowledging sources is a common courtesy but more that that, failure to do so can land you in the doggy-doo if you are not careful.

One day I am sure all us Genies hope to publish our family’s history in some form or another and I don’t think any of us would like it if someone took the research we have spent years accumulating and used it without acknowleging our hard work.

Enough fellow BlogDwellers – I must attend to the cauldrons and feed the cats!!! The family and a glass of vino awaiteth.

What’s the Genealogist’s favourite movie?…..“Good Will Hunting”

Yaaay - I finally did it!! My first ever Blog Spot and what an amazing world Blogging is too. To all the other Blog Dwellers who read this - WELCOME!!

Genealogy, someone once told me, is an obsession not a hobby and I tend to agree. Personally I dislike the word fanatic so I am happy to say that I am only obsessed.

I cannot think of a time when I am not thinking about genealogy or one of its related topics like history or archaeology. When being introduced to someone for the first time I mentally automatically slot them into genealogical categories - mmm...this name is probably Huguenot or that name is definitely German Military Settler stock. (put that straight jacket down - I'm OK...really I am!!!)

South Africa has a rich genealogical legacy and for some lucky souls their family's arrival on South African shores has been well documented. I am thinking 1820 Settlers, Huguenots, Aided Immigrants (1857), German Military Settlers, Moodie Settlers etc. etc. Others have to go hunting their ancestors one by one, death notice by death notice, church register by church register. I am definitely in the last camp. I'm not complaining though. My ancestors weren't very big on diaries and letters and such so because of the lack of family folklore I have been compelled to ferret out info in the most unlikely places. Makes me feel like Grissom in CSI. Yep...lateral thinking rules!!!

One thing I do know is that I probably would not have been so enthusiastic about genealogy if it was not for the Internet....I just would not have had the patience to pursue it via snail mail. Can you imagine having to wait weeks for a reply to a query only to find that it wasn't what you were after??? Nope - I definitely would not have had the patience. Hats off to those who persevered through the Cyber-less years.

Speaking of persevering...hands up all those who have had dealings with the Masters Office in Cape Town???? Perseverance takes on a different meaning does it not? Firstly, there is the reading room. For those who have not visited the Masters Office let me just say that the term 'reading room' is a touch ambitious for such a humble facility. It is a partioned off space (with no ceiling) within a HUGE hall and is so noisy that one can hardly think. I have on occasion had to chase cockroaches from between the pages of the registers (yes...creepy crawly nightmare and do you know how they cling to the pages as you try to flick them off with something....eeeuw!) The dust is also something else. All this aside though, the thing that irritates the most is that some of the registers are missing completely!!. There is a sign up to this effect in the reading room (1961, 1963 and 1966. 1967 was also missing but appears to have been returned (from where though? It has been missing for at least 2 years and no-one knew where it was!!). The only other way of getting the information you need is to stand in a long queue at the main enquiries counter in order to get the clerks to look in the ancient card filing system. When one puts the request to them they always argue with you that the information must be obtained in the reading room. (makes you wonder who put the sign up in the first place!) It takes a good 5 minutes just to get it across that the registers for the years you need are MISSING...M-I-S-S-I-N-G. Grrrrrr!

A visit to the vault is the next lesson in self control. You may only draw 5 files a day so woe unto you if you have six. If the clerk on duty is in a bad mood it means another trip on another day with parking at R7 an hour in order to get that one extra file.

As far as staff are concerned, I have yet to meet one single person who actually looks like they enjoy what they are doing...goes with the territory I guess. Can't say I blame them really...working in such an environment must be demoralising, but having said that, I object to being made to feel that I am wasting someone's time when I ask for something or that it is a huge favour which is being bestowed upon me. (sighs and rolling eyes can be very expressive). If the facilites were upgraded one would not need to 'bother' anyone. By this I mean for instance that according to the staff the records from 1989 to present day are now on computer. By making a terminal available to researchers no-one would have to disturb the staff when requesting some assistance. (on the other hand what else are they there for I ask myself.)

Wish Adelbert Semmelink would continue with the excellent project he started in indexing the death notices (see the e-family website (click on the CDNI (Cape Death Notice Index)option Oh well...that is my first soap-box topic for my BlogSpot. Would love to hear your comments or views on other things.

Spot the genealogist in a crowd - they are the one sporting a "Who's Your Daddy" T-Shirt.