As the class gets under way, Rutherford explains available Chicago and Midwest resources such as prephone city directories and church archives. Census records and passenger lists; birth, death and marriage certificates; newspaper archives; and military, railroad and cemetery records are other possibilities. He also warns that most records from the past 70 years are not available due to privacy concerns, which adds to the challenge. Before he releases us in the archives, Rutherford leaves us with this genealogy truism: “It’s one of the few things [in life] that the more you do it, the more difficult it becomes.”

The group members disperse to various computers. The Newberry allows access to a number of invaluable sites that would otherwise command hefty usage fees—including Ancestry.org, HeritageQuestOnline.com and New York Times and Chicago Tribune archives dating back to 1849. Free to all is FamilySearch.org, which is run by genealogy kingpins the Mormons. The site offers open access to the church’s millions of Family History Library records.

I score my first hit with a quick Chicago Tribune search. It yields my grandparents’ 1938 wedding announcement and my grandfather’s 1952 obituary. Encouraged, I search census records through Ancestry.org. The year 1910 turns up an address on the 6800 block of South May Street. Rutherford points out that the record shows four children born to my great-grandmother, though only two survived. I take the clue to my father and aunts, which leads to a mini-debate about whether a child named John was a twin or a second child, and whether he died of lockjaw or if that was someone else altogether.

In the 1920 census, I see that as a teenager my grandma worked for the City Railroad, now the CTA, and lived with her family, including an aunt and two cousins. I ask my father about the Kilbey cousins, which elicits a gruesome memory: He remembers looking out at El tracks that ran past the elderly sisters’ home and seeing a man fall onto the overhead rail line , catch fire and shower the street below with sparks. Not exactly what I was looking for, but interesting nonetheless. Another fact emerges: According to the information my great-grandmother provided the census takers, she aged only two years between 1910 and 1920.

By the time the Newberry session ends, I’ve learned the first law of genealogy research: With every bit of information found, more questions arise and additional sources are needed. The search takes me on a chase to the County Clerk’s office and the Archdiocese of Chicago’s archives. There I learn the second law of genealogy research: It takes knowledge to make knowledge. For example, you’ll need exact dates for vital records and the correct parish and years of attendance for church searches.

While I wait for the county birth record, I try to substantiate the newspaper stringer information, which proves to be equally time consuming. The Newberry sends me to the Chicago History Museum, which in turn directs me to the Homewood Library. A phone call leads me to the Oak Lawn library where I unfurl multiple rolls of microfilm for the post-war years. In the meantime, my mother phones to say she found my grandmother’s death certificate: Her employer is listed as the Darling Company, which was in the stockyards. Finally, a definite answer.

Though my genealogy search didn’t yield the instant gratification I had hoped for, it did spark conversations about people and places that were all but lost from memory. As one of Rutherford’s other truisms puts it, “This is the ultimate way for people to personalize history.”

Saturday 7.