Roadblock

Meet my great x four grandfather, William Pringle, Jr.  In this photograph he seems to be kind of cranky, which probably explains why William has provided me with my first genealogical "roadblock".

In genealogical research you usually start with yourself and your parents, then slowly build a hug reverse pyramid with the parents of your parents, then those parents, etc.  Along the way I search for spouses so that I can add their family tree, other children of the marriage, and lots of documentation to prove that my information is correct.  Sometimes you get stopped when the records are lost (a courthouse fire in Washington state has slowed me down in researching my husband's family).  Sometimes the research gets far enough in the past that records are scarce, especially online (my Dui/Duy/Douay/de Douay family is slowing considerably now that I am researching in 1500s France).  And sometimes the records just stop.  You get to an old enough time and a rural enough place, and there is nowhere to research.

But sometimes you get an inexplicable roadblock.  Like William.  I know who is father and mother are (William Pringle, Sr. and Mary Wertz) and their love story, their lives, and their parents are known.  William, Jr.'s daughter, Sophia (AKA Susannah), is also no mystery to me.  I even know for whom she was named.

It's Mrs. William that is proving difficult.  The records clearly tell that William taught school in the fall, winter, and spring, then went back to his parents' home to help on the farm in the summer.  One fall he returned to school with a wife, who later bore him Sophia.  But no name.

Sadly, no name for a wife is not all that unusual, but William was a teacher, and therefore assumed to be lettered, so he ought to have left some record of the Mrs.  And they lived in a time and place (1800s PA and later Ohio) where you could reasonably expect to find court documents, newspaper articles, and other references to the Mrs.  But alas, no.

So I am letting William's roadblock sit and simmer for a while.  Sometimes you just have to let it go and then later your refreshed mind can find new avenues of research for discovery.  And sometimes you simply have to admit defeat and move on.  But since I am related to that cranky-looking man in the photograph, I think that final option isn't too likely!