Sometimes a mystery stays a mystery.
Frank Brovet(s), part 1
I should preface by explaining something about me. I grew up in a small family, with a limited amount of relatives. There were maybe a dozen Brovets in the whole country, and I spent my first few decades confident that I knew all of them.
Ah, the assurance of youth.
I think that’s part of why the Frank story frustrates me so. I had this misconception, and I was able to hold onto it well into my 30s. My brain still gets stuck on the point of: I know all of them, so there can’t be more. This Frank situation has been like hearing, “That’s what YOU think,” from the Universe, over and over.
Continue reading “A Whole Mess of Franks”
The watchmaker, the seamstress, and a mystery.
Last I left off, I was researching Richard Schober at the Newberry Library. He was not my only find that day. Nor the biggest find.
Back then, the Newberry was a rare place offering free access to the Chicago Tribune’s digital archives. I was full of confidence after my first stab at detective work, so I decided to keep going. I knew had relatives in Chicago at the turn of the 20th century. Maybe I could find a marriage announcement or something. Without too much thought, I typed my surname into the search box.
I hope you’re hearing the alarm blaring in your head. I did not hear it in mine.
Continue reading “Frank Brovet, Genealogical Nemesis”