I think that one of the greatest challenges for a genealogist is to keep moving between temporal spheres. The same spirit that pulls us to the past may be content to have us linger there. And if you love history as I do, this is an always-welcome invitation.
I usually display on my computer screen a picture that reminds me of an important aspect of my family's past. Doing so helps me to make the past a daily part of my present, a choice which to me seems radical in the present-obsessed culture in which we live. In this way, I am being true to my own spirit, which has never been fully satisfied being in the "present" dimension. At the same time, however, I am aware that I am sometimes so happy in the past that I fail to move actively and dynamically in the present. So as much as I need constant "remembrances of things past" to be at peace, I also recognize that I need other images that remind me of present realities and future possibilities.
So, today, I posted on to my computer screen this picture from my last research trip a few weeks ago to Fredericksburg, Virginia . This is not an example of good photography. I snapped the picture after taking a short break from driving, just as I was about to get onto I-70 to begin the second leg of my journey. Those of you who have traveled this route--I-76 through Pennsylvania to I--70 to Virginia/DC--are familiar with Breezewood, Pennsylvania as a major crossroads. One might also think of Breezewood as symbolic of the convergence of several spatial dimensions. This photo helps me to think about roads coming together and also about temporal dimensions coming together, and that, in my opinion, really is the work of the genealogist. We compose time; we are temporal composers.
A quick story about my time in Fredericksburg, just two short days I'm afraid. Having never stayed in this city, I booked my hotel via Expedia (a good service!) and wound up staying in a hotel located in Shopper's Paradise. (We have strip malls where I live, but this one beats all. There must be a hundred chain stores in probably well under a square mile). When I arrived in town, I had the hardest time finding my hotel as it was not easily located from the street/highway though it did have a main street/highway address. Though I had had no difficulty finding my way to Fredericksburg (about a twelve hour drive on several interstates), I had a heck of a time finding the hotel and was just about to give up when a kind man from another hotel (I stopped in to ask for directions) provided me a map of the shopping development. (It looked like one of those theme park maps). Anyway, after he gave me the map I was only delayed another fifteen minutes or so before finding my temporary home.
Well, the long and the short of it is that I hated the hotel, which doesn't matter all that much since I was in Fredericksburg for research not relaxation. But I mention the hotel because it is west of the interstate (I-95), and the archives I was visiting (Rappahannock Center) is east of it. The difference between east and west Fredericksburg or between the new and the old is like the difference between night and day, and I wish I had some kind of register to measure the change in my biorhythm as I moved about what for me was a saner, more user friendly area. (I know that my blood pressure had risen as I searched and searched for the hotel, and I cannot imagine that people who live in the city proper are not in general healthier.) Well, all was well that ended well, I found my way around and got some work done.
After leaving the Rappahannock Center (the main destination of my journey), I ventured to the Fredericksburg court, and, after that, I strolled down Princess Anne, a revitalized downtown district with dozens of curiosity shops--museums, gift shops, galleries, etc. Unlike Shoppers Paradise (on the west side), this place reeks of history. Its streets are tree-lined; the shops are easily accessible. Traffic moves slowly, giving one plenty of time to find parking. Pedestrian traffic along the sidewalks also is slow as people take in the interesting things displayed in shop windows. I would have made a day of it had I not placed myself on a schedule, which included getting back on the interstate to reach my next destination.
As I walked down a sidewalk, headed north back to my car, a middle-aged woman--newly emerged from her own vehicle--stopped me in my tracks. "Hey you!" she exclaimed. I turned around, looked behind me, to my left and to my right. "I'm talking to you. Hey!" she exclaimed as though I were simply acting as though I didn't recognize her. I repeated the same motions, at which point this friendly lady realized that I did not in fact know her. "Sorry," she said in a voice only slightly less cheerful than the tone of her earlier greeting. "I thought you were someone else."
Of course, this sort of thing is nothing out of the ordinary, right? Who doesn't have this happen to them every other week or so? But, when I'm on research trips I tend to make more of incidents I would usually ignore. For me, this woman who thought she knew me had a message for me. You are home here in Fredericksburg. Your spirit is recognized her. You are familiar. By your being here, the past and the present have converged.
MY GREAT GREAT GRANDFATHER, A SLAVE, WAS TAKEN FROM FREDERICKSBURG TO MARSHALL COUNTY, MISSISSIPPI AROUND 1836. That's one hundred and seventy-four years ago.
Who says that the ancestral spirits were not rejoicing about our family's "return"?
If Breezewood is a site of spatial convergence, genealogy is a practice of temporal convergence, and as we researchers move both across time and space we undoubtedly encounter many openings--places where dimensions or planes come together. But having such experiences, truly and fully experiencing the dynamism of historic research, does require not just a romanticization of the past but movement of all sorts.
All of us need multi-spatial images like this one I took at Breezewood. I hope you have a special one of your own.
