1940 Census Release Day - Epic Failure or Great Opportunity?

Today has been a lonnnnnnnng day for many of us in the genea-world.  This day, for which we've waited so long, has turned out to be one of waiting ... and waiting ... and waiting for most of us.  What were we waiting for, you may ask?  Well, all though the waiting experience may have differed a bit, the anticipated "prize" for all would have been a page from the 1940 Census, that would allow us to actually begin the search for our families!
Luckily, I've read the 59 posts in my reader prior to typing this, so I'm aware that many folks have already shown screen shots of what we've been looking at all day; therefore, I won't do that.  But, whether it's been a spinning wheel, a black screen that says "loading" (or "preparing image""), or whether after excitedly thinking we've had a breakthrough, just to read, "Sorry, that image is no longer available"; all but a few luckly souls have spent this day WAITING.

But, as this tiresome day progressed, I noticed a few things about myself:  I noticed that I wasn't getting mad.  Actually, I spent most of the day with a smile on my face!  I even thought (initially) that the whole thing was kind of funny!  For the first few hours, I was in constant communication with other researchers, who were going through the same thing as I was.  At noon, I joined the Afrigenas Lunch Bunch Chat.  At 3:00, I was in another chatroom with Steve Morse, Nicka Smith, and other "big-wigs" from the genealogy world.  And, in between all of this, I was getting things done!  You see, I had a plan.  (I pretty much always have a plan.)  I'd expected to have to do some waiting.  I'd figured that not everything would go perfectly smooth with such a highly anticipated release as this, with it taking place at a time when most people would/could be awake and waiting. With today being my first official day of Spring Break, I knew that I didn't want to completely waste the day, and then end up mad about it, so I made a plan!

Is this giving you an anxiety attack? :)

My plan was simply to get other things done if I ended up having to wait.  Those things included dusting, vacuuming, cleaning my kitchen, doing laundry, pulling weeds, paying bills (for my self and for my mother), and making telephone calls.  I got all of those things done, except the laundry!  Not only did I accomplish these things, which resulted in me starting my break with a fresh, clean house; but I also took a one-hour nap in the middle of the day, and went out to get Chick-Fil-a for dinner!


Yummm!

Now, here I am back at the computer, or the "puter", as I like to call it.  As much as I'd hoped that the folks at archives.com had completed the work of "adding additional servers" so that ease of access would be improved, unfortunately, I'm
                                        still
                                          looking
                                                   at

                                                     this                     

      on one computer

and

           this

                                                        on the other.

But, am I upset? Nope!  You know why?  Because if my images had loaded, I certainly wouldn't have taken the time to write this post! 

Now, I'm not one to give up, so I'm sure I'll be trying all night.  But at some point, I'll call it a night, and head to bed.  After all, there's always tomorrow!

                          

                                                                      

See ya tomorrow!

Renate

Genea-Family Friday - Meeting Shelley

Okay, maybe "Genea-Family Friday" isn't (or hasn't been) an actual meme, but for today, I'm making it one. :)

Although a small percentage of folks in our online genealogy community do get to meet and know each other personally, mostly by attending conferences and workshops, the majority are like me, who engage in building "friendships" online, through blogs, chats, and social networks like Twitter, Facebook, and/or GooglePlus.  So, for me, those rare occasions that allow me to actually meet one of my genea-friends are very special.  Yesterday was one such occasion, when I got to meet genealogist Shelley Murphy  while on a brief visit to my former hometown of Charlottesville, Virginia.



Shelley is very active in the African-American, as well as the larger genealogy community.  She puts out the Charlottesville Genealogy Examiner, is an active participant in the Afrigeneas community, and is belongs to more than one chapter of the African-American Historical and Genealogical Society (AAGHS), holding the office of President in the Central Virginia Chapter.  Shelley is also active on Twitter, and Facebook, participates in Geneabloggers Radio shows, and is just generally supportive of other researchers, in every way. 

I have enjoyed getting to know Shelley online, and have long considered her a part of my "genea-family". Now, I can add her to the (short) list of folks from this wonderful community whom I've actually met, in person.  Though our visit was brief, I could tell that Shelley was just as kind, sweet, and supportive in "real life" as  she comes across online. :)  I'm glad we met!

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Childhood Memories - Sundays

My dad, Arthur P. Yarborough posing in front of our second station wagon and my childhood home -  probably around 1970 or so.

This post is an effort to combine Randy Seaver's Saturday Night Genealogy Fun which asks us to recall a favorite childhood memory, with the Afrigeneas challenge to either recall memories of Mom in the kitchen, or Sunday memories.

I can only recall a very few occasions in my childhood when my entire family (mom, dad, 3 older brothers, and me) were all together in one place, but for at least a few years in my early childhood (before my two oldest brothers were grown and gone) it did happen. It was on Sundays that the six of us would pack into our family station wagon, armed with fried chicken, bread, potato chips, and fruit and head off to my very favorite place (Louisburg, NC) to see my very favorite person (my Grandma Yarborough). The drive was about four hours long back then, along a succession of narrow, winding country roads. Starting out along the highway through Virginia's peanut country, we sang songs, played car games, ate, and of course did our fair share of fussing and fighting. No matter how many times we took this same trip, passing the same landmarks, cotton and tobacco fields, outhouses, country stores and horse and cow-filled pastures, (complete with weathered and broken-down barns), all of these things were pointed to out to us as if we were seeing them for the first time. To this day, as I travel many of these same roads to visit my aunt and do my research, I still hear the words inside my head, "Look at the horses!" or "Do you see the cows?" (And sometimes, even in the car alone, I actually catch myself saying them!)

As we made our way to my father's birthplace, there were some stressful moments, too. Back then, all of the roads we traveled were two-lane highways, meaning one lane of traffic going each way. There were no medians between these opposite-facing lanes, and for me (the baby of the family) my father's frequent efforts to pass were the source of much distress. Every time my dad would put the pedal to the medal to pass another car, I would SCREAM at the top of my lungs! It was terrifying to me to see the traffic coming at us in the other direction, and I never believed that my father was going to make it around the car, or sometimes CARS in front of us to get back into our lane on time! I would scream and cry, and beg my dad not to pass, but all this resulted in was everyone in the family getting mad and fussing at me. Oh, and you'd better believe that the station wagon was pulled over many times, so that my dad could select just the right switch off of a roadside tree and and threaten to use it to teach me to stop hollering and crying in his ear while he was driving! (I'm pretty sure the switch was actually used a couple of times, too - but it never worked to stop me from my dramatics.)

One other little thing that I remember about these trips is our roadside pit-stops to use the restroom. Well, let me rephrase that.... to relieve ourselves. You see, we rarely ever stopped at a place to use restroom facilities. Instead, when we had to "go", my father would simply pull over on the side of the road. The boys would go to the nearest tree and quickly take care of their business, but for me, it was a squat inside of the open car door, and a wipe with a napkin...lol, provided by my watchful mother (who, by the way, I don't EVER remember doing this herself). There was a certain church up on a hill on our last stretch of highway that had a big oak tree in front of it, and we always seemed to stop there for this purpose. I still pass that church when I go down to Louisburg, and I always remember its connection to my childhood trips. It seems odd that we would do this at a church, but for some reason, we did. One little side note about this: I feel pretty sure that, given the times (60's) we didnt' stop at a gas station to use the restroom because of the racial climate. Neither of my parents or older brothers ever said this to me, but as I look back on it now, I'd be willing to bet that this was my father's way of avoiding conflict, and maybe, just maybe my parents felt we were more protected by stopping on the grounds of a church. I do recall, in later years, actually stopping at a couple of gas stations. At those times, we'd have to ask for a key, and would be directed to use a certain restroom.)

This picture shows our first station wagon, which I don't so much remember,
parked next to my Grandma's house, in Louisburg.

Everyone's excitement always grew as we got into North Carolina and began to see the red, clay dirt along the roadside shoulders - first just little patches here and there, just slightly orangish in color, but then increasingly larger pads of it, brilliantly and unmistakably RED. We knew that we were getting closer to our destination as the color of the soil deepened its hue. Then would come that final landmark that would cause my brother Arthur and I to sit straight up and abandon any argument we might have been having. Once we saw the Dairy Queen at the intersection of what I now know is Routes 561 and 39, in Louisburg, we knew that we were just about 2 minutes away from our grandma's house! We both loved her so much, but at that moment it was her always-waiting candy cabinet that we had on our minds. Once we got to her house, and all the greetings and hugs were done, my grandma would give us the signal that we could go to that wonderful place where we'd always find a special treat that had been placed there just for us. My grandma never forgot to do this. Never. Oh, how I loved her, and she loved ME!

Here we are - the six of us - standing in front of the station wagon on the street in front 

of my grandma's house. I imagine we were about to get in the car to head home.