Do you know how old you are? You probably do. On account of it's 2024, and you've been putting your age and date of birth on documents since you were old enough to write. Great job getting your birthdate right on all those documents, by the way. Super proud of you.
If you tried to count all of the forms you've filled out that included your birthdate over the course of your life so far, it would be impossible. If you're a parent, you almost certainly have the birthdates of your children ready for immediate recall.
This wasn't always the case — even as recently as about a hundred years ago. If you grew up in the 18th or 19th century, and were poor, there's a chance you weren't real clear on the exact year you were born. You relied on your parent's recollection, and, well, more than likely, you were not an only child.
They all became optometrists in an attempt to win back their father's love.
Sure, some folks kept vital dates straight in a family bible, or were able to consult their local church records (looking at you, Catholics), but if you grew up poor or working class in the U.S. prior to, let's say 1910 or so, you may have been a little fuzzy on your correct year of birth.
Compounding this issue is the fact that sometimes people — for all kinds of reasons — lie. We're so sorry to break it to you this way. Mommy and Daddy still love you very much.
We're going to guess that most of you reading this wouldn't consider lying on a government form (again, we're just so, so proud of how you've turned out), but this used to be a little less unimaginable than you'd think. If the societal norm isn't "everyone of course always knows their exact date of birth," then getting it wrong on a census or a marriage record doesn't seem quite as flagrant as it would today.
Let's use an example. We'll call her Theoretical Martha. Theoretical Martha already has enough issues in life because of her unfortunate name, and she's really just trying to pave her own way best as she can, you know?
She quit school by the 3rd grade and was working in the mill beginning in 1911, so she tells the 1920 census enumerator she was born in 1899, as she knows she started working as soon as she legally could. When she marries a couple of years later, she thinks... you know what? I must have actually been born in 1902, because 23 seems so old. My husband is only 21... and my older sister Logical Thelma is always saying, "I'm your older sister, and I was born in 1899, so... you know... you weren't."
By the time the 1930 census rolls around, Theoretical Martha's husband tells the enumerator his wife is but a mere 24, and he somehow manages to also get all the years of his children's births wrong.
Decades later, after her 17-year-old daughter has a child out of wedlock, Theoretical Martha tells the 1950 census enumerator that the newborn baby in the house is her daughter, rather than her grandchild. Because she is clever, Theoretical Martha tells the enumerator that she was born in 1908, making her just now 42, rather than 48, which seems way more believable if she just had a baby.
She's been getting so much younger over the years and she's really started enjoying it, so she decides to stick with it. Her daughter (j/k, it's her granddaughter, we all know) is the informant on her death certificate and says that her mother (ahem, grandmother) was only 70 years old when she passes away in 1980.
Time to break out those espadrilles, Martha!! This woman's name is actually Helen Ruth Elam Van Winkle, aka "Baddie Winkle" and it's a well-deserved nickname.
At this point we have three records all with conflicting years of birth:
1899 (1920 census)
1902 (1922 marriage certificate)
1904 (1930 census)
1908 (1950 census)
1910 (1930 death certificate, headstone)
We have a headstone that says she was born in 1910. It's literally carved in stone, so it must be accurate, right? Right??
And if we concede that it possibly isn't, how do we even begin to determine which year was correct?
We prioritize our records like so:
Which was created closest to the event in question?
Who was the informant, meaning the person who provided the information on the record, and,
Did they witness the event?
Could they have had ulterior motives or bias when providing the information?
The 1920 census has 1899 as Martha's year of birth, and though we don't know the informant, it is closest to the event of her birth. But you know what would be great? It would be really great if we could try again to find that 1900 census. If we build out the profiles for her siblings by researching them as well, we find that sister Logical Thelma was, in fact, born in 1899, just like she is always reminding us of, as she was a baby in 1900 census. And Theoretical Martha isn't listed on the 1900 census — a strong suggestion that she did not yet exist. Or as my own youngest daughter says when looking at family pictures before she was born, "Oh, rigggggghhhht. I was invisible then."
When we find the 1910 census, we see that Theoretical Martha was listed as 7 years old, putting her at a 1902/1903 birth. We then check the local newspaper for both years around the month and date of her birthdate, and we luck out.
"The Hypothetical family welcomed baby girl, 6 lbs, 2 oz. yesterday. The family is doing well and hope she will be ready to work at the mill next summer."
And there's our answer.
Evaluating conflicting information is a process of using the lenses of proximity and trustworthiness when examining records, and continuing to look for the most direct, and closest record available.
Baddie Winkle out.
It's for her glaucoma, she swears.
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