ROOTS & BRANCHES

One of the things I tackle in my new book The Family Tree Historical Newspapers Guide is what I call “presentism.”

What “presentism” is, in short, is making assumptions about the past based on our own present-day experiences.

An example from the newspaper world is assuming that the writeups of individuals’ deaths we now call obituaries will have the same content in, say, the early 1800s when in that time frame newspapers generally published one- or two-sentence mentions of death … if someone’s passing was noted at all.

It’s often tough to overcome these assumptions of presentism. They are our frame of reference.

The best inoculation against this “disease” of presentism?

Well, that’s a healthy “shot” of historical perspective – reading history, looking at historical records, asking questions with a critical eye (Here’s an example from 18^th century Pennsylvania tax lists: Frequently there is a category of “inmates,” but these men on the list are not prisoners; they are folks who don’t own land but have enough value of personal property – often in part from a wife’s dowry – to owe a tax).

Then there’s what I would call the issue of “personal space.”

As I’ve commented upon in many a “Roots & Branches” column, I live in a house first bought into the family by my great-great-grandfather Wellington B. Machmer almost a century ago.

In today’s world, its 1800 or so square feet seems barely enough for me (Full disclosure: The fact that I run two businesses out of it might have something to do with assessment).

But from my personal knowledge and other records, I know that from the time the Machmers first moved in until my parents bought the house from others in the Machmer family, there were always at least three and often five or six people living in the house.

I recall a story my mother told me about when her grandmother (Wellington’s daughter Rosa D. Machmer) moved back into the house in the early 1930s and hosted card games until “well into the night.” Wellington and his wife Emma’s bedroom was on the second floor right above the dining room where the games would have been played.

But the “personal space” issue of the Machmers pales before that of the Hiller family, my only urban ancestors.

My three-greats-grandfather Gottlieb Hiller lived in the city of Reading and I’ve done drive-bys of the property that the U.S. Census gives for his address. It’s about 12 feet wide by 20 feet deep and three floors.

That’s 720 square feet for more than a dozen people! Holy personal space, Batman!

Of course, my “presentism” here is that it’s the same structure today as when the Hillers lived there in the second half of the 1800s. From the architecture, that seems reasonable … but it’s only an assumption.