Genealogy lives in a time-free zone. Suddenly the wall between past and present collapses and the researcher and her ancestor are unexpectedly conversing. That happened to me today, May 9, 2018/1918.
September 29, 2018 will be the 100th anniversary of our Uncle Ray C. Whalen’s death. That date is also my self-imposed deadline for finishing some sort written work about him. Ray was our father’s brother and was killed in the trenches in France during World War I. Although he was long-dead by the time my birth family came into being, Ray is mourned by us just the same. I am sure we picked up on his own birth family’s sense of loss. Perhaps we borrowed our Dad’s sadness at losing a big brother, or our grandmother’s heartbreak (she was Ray’s mother after all), or his sisters’, Aunts Gladys, Ella, and Lora, grief for him too. My father’s descriptions of Ray were always a little larger than life–always popular, a smart dresser, good in sports, and forever having a girlfriend. The picture above and his own letters home sure do confirm that.
To the left and below are photos of a US Army record listing Ray’s transport to Europe aboard the ship Susquehanna and a picture of the boat itself. They are interesting records made poignant by the fact that w
e know he wouldn’t return alive.
Now here’s where the genealogical clock runs backwards. I knew I had these records, but didn’t get around to printing them out and really reading them until just today. And guess what I noticed–Ray sailed May 9th, 1918, exactly 100 years ago today. You’ll see his name and service number on the second line of the US Army Transport Service Passenger List. Look at the date stamped in the Date of Sailing box; you’ll see it too.
Like I said, spooky things happen in genealogy. Ghosts talk. They want their stories told and they find ways to tell them. Keep talking, Uncle Ray. We’re listening.
