When An Amateur Historian Has a Bad Day

Suppose you've written a stirring account of a violent death, entitled A Tragedy at Chester's Camp, based on reports from Hammond and Valparaiso newspapers. And suppose you finally track down the Hobart newspaper's version of the story on microfilm, and it says the incident didn't happen at Chester's Camp. And suppose you look at the roughly coeval non-newspaper evidence of who lived where and did what for a living (census report and plat maps), and decide the Hobart version is more credible. What does it all mean?

First, it means you have to re-write your stirring account. Secondly, it means your Chester's Camp article is now a pathetic stub, but you have to leave it where it is because you've been yammering on and on and on about Chester's Camp ever since — but you better try to gather up what random facts you've been collecting (once you remember where you put them) to fill it out more. Thirdly, it means you have to go searching through your blog looking for links that don't go to the right place anymore.

Nonetheless, I'm eternally grateful to the Hobart newspaper, because it answered a question that had been tormenting me: how could George Chester and Frank Booty be full brothers, and have different surnames? Now I understand.

And I managed to find an image of the Chester family tree:


(Photo by Nate Steiner, from Wikimedia Commons)

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On a lighter note, here's a picture of Maya having fun. She calls diving head-first into a pile of snow fun.


(Click on image to enlarge)