Completely Unnecessary

If there was an award, I’d win it.

As anyone who’s talked to me lately knows, I’m doing research on six-odd women who signed a petition for women’s suffrage in 1891. I’ve logged more hours at the State Library and Victorian Archives than many of the employees. I’m just going to marry the Scottish guy who works there because we’ve started frenetically comparing research stories, and I just can’t imagine that anyone else would have us. It’ll be the least romantic pairing ever, but its practical utility will be reminiscent of the time period I’m studying.

Here’s the scary part: It occurred to me in class the other day that if I could find the (great-) great-grandchildren of these women they might have pictures and some deeper family history. There’s only so much drama you can get out of a marriage record in Aberdeen. So I decided to try to contact them.

This isn’t exactly as easy as it might seem. You might say, in fact, that the records are set up precisely to prevent a psycho like me from doing this. All birth records after 1920 are locked so that stalkers, both scary and incredibly lame, can’t bother the ostensibly living.

Instead of respecting this basic code of ethics (and, might I add, with the complete encouragement of my professor), I’m now searching through the records for their parents obits, wills, and probate records. “Survived by” is my new best friend.

I’m clearly sick, but it’s a harmless kind of sick. I’d like to think, however, that these skills will be applicable should I ever go off the deep end.

Vaguely Related

• The ‘Monster’ Petition and the Women of Davis Street
• Wind (and a little bit of media studies!)