Why I do the things I do... for free!

Yesterday THE coolest thing happened to me!
Some times last November, I climbed in our attic only to find a huge mess left by the roofers the year before.
Part of their work included cleaning up… or so I thought… They had already dragged their feet to come in and do the job and although they were quick at tearing down the 10 layers - yes, 10 layers of tiles! - that made up the roof, we had to call them back because they had left a mess in our lawn: strips of nails especially strewn all over our backyard and outside lawn.
I had never thought they would have left a mess in the attic which is only accessible through a square hole in the ceiling of our walk-in closet, above a ladder attached straight to the closet wall.
Not to mention the dust and pieces of woods etc.
Armed with a broom, a shovel, garbage bags and dust pan I climbed up the ladder and began cleaning the mess. There were old boxes we had left there years ago, most of which could now be thrown away.
There was also a stack of old newspapers the previous owner must have left there.
Since I am a sucker for old things, I picked them up carefully and placed them in a garbage bag of their own until I could get them down.
The more I cleaned the more upset I got as I had no idea how I was going to be able to get the trash down. I stopped soon after leaving this for Spring. The newspapers came downstairs where we were able to look at them better.
It is a series of Peru Daily Tribune dating back to 1939. The papers are for the most part March 1939 issues, with a few January 1939. I had first thought I would extract the obituaries and weddings and post them to the Miami county Rootsweb group. But life happened and it is not until this past week that I was able to make time to do this.
As I got into the pages, I realized there was much more there than obituaries. Back then newspapers contained the comings and goings of local people.
It’s hard to believe today that a 25 miles trip to visit friends and family could ever be worth mentioning in a newspaper. If that was the case, the newspapers would be much thicker – at least the Tribune…
But back then it was a big thing and so the pages were full of local tidbits with names of people entertaining friends, family, attending meetings, funerals, weddings, returning from the hospital, college etc…
At first my postings upset someone who didn’t think they belonged on the forum but I stuck to my guns as other people piped up in favor of my continuing.
I assured them all that I don’t have an endless supply, only about 10-12 issues, but would be glad to continue.
Yesterday I found one more page in the 16 March 1939 issue, that still needed to be typed. I hesitated. It was about Miami, Indiana: a small place at the southern end of the county.
But I sat down and sent the new postings to the group.
Then a few hours later, I received a response to the posting.
An 87y old lady had recognized HERSELF in one of the one-liners!
She had forgotten about this particular meeting but she had been taken back in time for a few moments…
To all those who wonder why I make time to retype an old newspaper, or to index cemeteries, or to help others find their roots without asking anything in return…
The feeling I felt when receiving this small email from a lady I will most likely never meet… That feeling is priceless… She made my day. She gave me the resolve to continue more than anything could have.
Some people think those of us who do these crazy things do it for recognition…
Not so… We do it to serve others, quietly, in the background, without expecting anything in return.
Once in a while we have these wonderful moments when our work helps someone who says thank you.
Those Thank You’s go a long way in showing us that our work is appreciated.
I shared this with Bruce because he has not always grasped what I was doing but this really hit home with him too.
I am grateful for moments like these. Few people let us know when our work helps them and it’s ok as it is not expected. There is so much joy to be felt from doing good things for people without being asked or being assigned the task!
I value the following words greatly:
“For behold, it is not meet that I should command in all things; for he that is compelled in all things, the same is a slothful and not a wise servant; wherefore he receiveth no reward.
Verily I say, men should be anxiously engaged in a good cause, and do many things of their own free will, and bring to pass much righteousness;
For the power is in them, wherein they are agents unto themselves. And inasmuch as men do good they shall in nowise lose their reward.
But he that doeth not anything until he is commanded, and receiveth a commandment with doubtful heart, and keepeth it with slothfulness, the same is damned.”
(Doctrine and Covenants 58: 26-29 - http://scriptures.lds.org/en/dc/58/26#26 )
The reward comes whether we want it or not.
Recognition is not the reward. The feeling of satisfaction in helping others is enough.
Whatever motives people have assigned to what I do is irrelevant. How I feel is not. The joy felt is real and it is good.
I was on cloud nine after getting the lady’s email! So I will definitely finish typing the news bits and maybe even look for more to continue on the same line.

Online memorials

Some people would consider my activities past weird.
I just came back from the cemetery where I have been taking pictures of the graves.
They are not particularly special in beauty or artistry. They are special because they contain information that researchers may be looking for, but more than that.
This all started for me about 3-4 years ago or so.
I have never been fond of cemetery. I had never understood how people could jog through cemeteries as part of their daily exercise routines. To me THAT was weird. I figured I would eventually end up in one of them soon enough, why would I haunt them prematurely?
Well… I guess it’s another one of those “never say never” times for me…
I always seem to eat my words…
And this I do happily…
My grandmother Driessens died in 1994 in Belgium of course and I could not attend the funeral. However my father did something amazing. He sent me the ribbon that was wrapped around the coffin along with a clip of my grandmother’s white hair… In his letter he added that he wanted me to have a private ceremony to have my own closure.
Well, of course I could not do that! That was my grandmother’s hair… I kept it!
Then my father passed in 2000 and there could be no closure for me there either. Until one I opened an old letter and saw a picture of him waiving back at me as though he was saying goodbye and I cried like a baby…
As a genealogist I interact with many other researchers all over and one person in particular peeked my interest. He was taking pictures at the Robermont cemetery fro a website. http://www.lescimetieres.com/Accueil/cadreaccueil.htm
Since my Grandmother’s ashes had been dispersed on a lawn there, I asked him if he could send me a picture of that lawn. It was really out of curiosity at first. Joseph is a wonderful guy and he sent me the attachment shortly thereafter.
I had not been prepared for the effect the picture would have on me.
Pretty much like seeing my father waiving at me…
There was texture to the event. Something that had happened so long ago but that maybe because of distance had not quite registered completely. I was overwhelmed.
That day I realized that Joseph Beaujean, the photographer, had given me a priceless gift.
It may not have cost him much materially, although it cost him in time and dedication, but the gift was without a doubt priceless.
That day I realized that I wanted to do the same for others and began to help my friend Deb Beheler, who coordinates the Indiana GenWeb, including Miami county where I live, with her project of indexing the local cemeteries and adding pictures to the index.

http://incass-inmiami.org/miami/cemeteries/perutwp.htminmiami.org/miami/cemeteries/perutwp.htm
That’s how I started spending time in cemeteries… Amazing? Not really… I just hope someone will benefit from this effort… I know I have, as, strangely enough, I have grown closer to the community I live in. I have found our Adeline Cattin who taught French to Cole Porter when he was 6 years old. I know where she is even though I still haven't actually found her grave yet... Soon I hope...