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What Was Important to Mom: The Last Roll of Film

  (An out of town trip waylaid continuing to write Jane's story so I have not completed the next post in the series. I'll be back to that next week, promise. In the meantime, another post I had ready to go.)   My mom—Ann Margaret Kozlina Gilbride—has been gone since 2010, but I got a glimpse into her life recently: I developed the last roll of film discovered in her 35mm camera. There was nothing really earth-shattering in the photos. Still, they spoke of my mom in subtle ways. And there were a few connections that I made to my current life. I wish I knew the exact years the images were taken, but I can only estimate. It turns out the date stamp was incorrectly set, so all the photos are stamped with '94. I'm guessing that the photos were taken between October when Mom had her birthday, and June or July of the following year. Other clues in the images tell me they were likely taken about 2005-2006, give or take a year.  There are no people in any of the photos. Mom p...

Crowdsource Your Family History on Facebook

Photos generously shared by my father's cousin, in response to my blog post on neighborhood family history on E. 147th St.


By Nancy Gilbride Casey

Never underestimate the power of a Facebook post or a family history blog to improve your genealogy.

In January, I shared a piece entitled "Close to Home on E. 147th Street," on my family history blog Leaves on the Tree. The theme "close to home" was generated by blogger Amy Johnson Crow, as part of her "52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks," writing challenge.

I immediately thought about spending my early elementary days on E. 147th street, where we shared a duplex with my maternal grandmother and uncle, and lived just doors away from my paternal grandparents. In those days, so much was "close to home."

In addition to posting the piece on my blog, I shared it on Facebook and tagged a few family members, as I typically do.

As it turns out, my reminiscences jogged loose several memories from other cousins and kin, as they too recollected living or visiting that neighborhood. I learned that my recollections might not be quite complete, as a few family chimed in that my chronology was just a bit off, and that there existed a second neighborhood house associated with the family early on.

Together, we essentially crowdsourced additional memories:
  • My aunt provided a better photo of one house than I had.
  • A cousin told me about a second house down the street where my Dad lived before I was born.
  • Another cousin recalled that she'd heard that one house burned down and sent me in search of the truth of that event (No record of it that the fire department could find.).
  • A distant cousin sent photos of the tiny attic apartment which my grandparents allowed her parents to live in when she was very young.
  • Yet another cousin provided the map he'd created to the family locations within a few neighborhood blocks. 
What a joy to get a more full picture of just how close the ties were, and to learn facts I never could have known on my own. Though I only meant to write about my own memories, instead, the exercise helped me better understand and visualize the neighborhood, learn how many more family lived there, and to fill in the gaps in my understanding of our local family history.


I was able to revise my original post, giving credit to my family who helped. I also was able to share even more family photos on Facebook.

Writing about your family history from various perspectives—like the history of your family within a neighborhood, or even just a house you lived in—can be the key to unlock a flood of family memories, bringing all closer together. And, isn't that what genealogy is all about?

Until next time...

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This post is also featured in the Greater Cleveland Genealogical Society's newsletter, "Certified Copy," Issue 49.2, Summer 2020.




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