Relatively Speaking Blog

For me, one of the most rewarding aspects of genealogy is the people I meet exploring similar family lines. The type of involvement varies. Sometimes it is limited to an exchange of one or two letters with a cousin who shares a few items about the family. With a few, it has been a flurry of emails over a short period of time as we intensely investigate a particular family together. Then there are those occasional contacts that move beyond genealogy into a friendship, like my correspondence with Carmen Hill.

I became acquainted with Carmen in the winter of 1994 when I wrote to her, most likely in response to an item she posted in a genealogy newsletter. I had inquired about the Brown family, as I was attempting to make sense of all the bits of information I had gathered. Her handwritten reply included a number of items she had in her records for John Brown and some other names I had included in my letter. This began our correspondence of over eight years comparing notes on families of the North Mountain PA area.

Carmen was not a direct relative; it was her husband, Dr. E. Larry Hill, who was my third cousin twice removed through our common ancestor John Rider. But Carmen took an active part in tracing his family lineage and she had accumulated a wealth of information on his family over the years. This was before computers became a household item, so her files were the paper kind in a filing cabinet containing over thirty years of research.

Within a year after our initial correspondence, I began writing a monthly newsletter, Relatively Speaking, which highlighted my paternal relatives, some who lived in North Mountain PA. I mailed it to my immediate cousins and some others, including Carmen, since these families were part of her research. Often within a week or so of receiving her copy, Carmen would write to mention how much she enjoyed reading it and included information she had on those mentioned in the newsletter. In one reply she wrote, “From your recent newsletter, you know me, I always have something to add.” And then she presented a few notes on some of the names she had in her files.

Carmen loved sharing the information she had collected and gladly offered any item she might have for a person. There were times I felt a bit overwhelmed with all she sent, especially when she might list 15 items for one name, some of it seemingly unrelated to the person I was researching. Looking back I understand Carmen did not want to overlook anything that might be the key to finding more. I have come to appreciate that the material that seems unrelated at the time might be the exact clue you will need later on.

In one of her early letters Carmen mentioned several lists that had belonged to her mother-in-law, Clara Rider Hill, of students from the Stone School. Intrigued with some names that looked familiar I asked her about it. She sent me a photocopy of the lists that were for three years: 1894-1895, 1895-1896 and 1896-1897. The school was located in North Mountain and I discovered my grandparents were students at the school. We each spent time looking through our information and then compared notes on what we had. Carmen identified the parents for many of the students; I did my best to fill in some of the gaps. This was a fun project and when I asked, Carmen graciously let me include the school list in my September-October issue. She even sent me a photo of the school to use; however, back then I didn’t have a scanner, so the photocopy of the picture was a poor quality.

After she got my newsletter Carmen would always mail me some information. In addition to family facts and research notes, we wrote of the happenings in our lives, including weather events, like hurricanes and snow storms. We also updated each other on the activities that we were engaged in for the month. It was through our correspondence that I got to know her.

Carmen was born in Terrill Iowa, the daughter of Peter N. Olsen and Anna B. DuVignau. She was living in Chicago when she met her future husband Larry at the Aragon Ballroom. They were married in Chicago on a blustery January day in 1948. Larry was attending optometrist school and after he set up shop, Carmen assisted her husband in his practice for 30 years. I imagine that her office skills aided her in quickly typing up family group sheets and organizing the clippings, obits and other family items she gathered that always seemed to be at her fingertips.

By 1950 Carmen and Larry moved to Kane PA where they lived and raised two children. In 1982 they retired to Florida where Carmen was very active with her church and community. She played bridge, enjoyed traveling—especially to visit her young granddaughter, and she appreciated the arts, and attended performances at their local theatre.

Larry was Vice President of News and Views and moderated and produced two monthly TV shows, Viewpoints and Profiles on a local channel. On one Larry was the host of a panel discussion on current issues; the other show highlighted entertainment and performers. Carmen was the director and also acted as announcer, and person in charge of music and timing. In one letter she wrote that for that month’s show, some crew members became ill and she was recruited to be a camera operator. Larry coached her on the angles to use to bring up the subjects. She must have done a good job, as in a letter a few months later she wrote 16 Barbershoppers appeared on the show, and it was her job to scan and make certain each had his moment on TV. She admitted that she was nervous and afterward “worn to a frazzle.”

Performance and entertainment was another common bond for us. While Carmen was involved in the backstage of her husband’s TV shows, I performed and directed in the theatre and acted in a couple of short student films. When Carmen learned this, she would ask me about my productions and mention the shows that she and Larry attended. I shared what plays I was working on and she would let me know what topics or entertainers were on their TV shows and how they went.

When my father died, she offered her condolences and shared this about her parents. “My father who lived to be 97, was a very intelligent man even though he only had an 8th grade education. He would go to the library and study during his noon hour and he always looked items up that he wanted to know more about and after he married my mother, who was a teacher, they traveled a lot and researched the areas they planned to visit so he was a wonderful father. We, who have that privilege, can’t imagine how lucky we are until we meet someone who was not so fortunate. After Mother died at age 91, we got a weekly letter from him which was nice, too.” Carmen was someone who counted her blessings.

Perhaps her father’s weekly notes inspired Carmen to write letters to others. If she sent a family group sheet, she always made sure to include at least a short message to say hello. In a card she sent, she wrote, “It would not be right not to get a letter from Carmen.” If she was recovering from an illness, Carmen looked at this as an opportunity to catch up on the letters she needed to write, often with other relatives working on similar lines that she had introduced me to.

Carmen had her share of health issues. She had several surgeries for various ailments, but she always seemed to recover and had a positive outlook. In 1997 she had cataract surgery, but about a year later she was having trouble with her vision. She went to specialists to find a remedy. I began printing my newsletter in a larger font, so she could read them. But Carmen’s eyesight continued to fail and she was diagnosed with macular degeneration with not much they could do. Then in the summer of 2002 Carmen wrote her last letter to me which stated she couldn’t read my newsletters anymore, so I should remove her from my mailings. I was sad to read that message. It meant our correspondence was now at its end. Although I stopped sending her the newsletter, I did send her cards. She passed away 18 months later at the age of 82.

Recently I have been reviewing the letters that Carmen had written; there was sometimes so much information that I wanted to make sure I had not overlooked anything. I never had the pleasure of meeting Carmen in person, but her letters have such a warmth to them that I feel like I had met her. As I read over their contents I find myself smiling. She was caring, always ready to help with information, and expressed her appreciation of my efforts creating Relatively Speaking. Carmen might not have had the answer, but she certainly had a lot of clues. I miss not being able to write her and get an informative response in return. But I am grateful for the opportunity I had to know her as a dear friend.