Playing With Family History and A.I.

Every once in a while, I go on a Family History binge. (Those binges need to remain occasional because they can be all-consuming.) This past week was a blast as I started playing with A.I. I know the Church is working on incorporating A.I. into FamilySearch.org, but this isn’t about that. (Eventually, I will dig into the Church’s stuff. So far, it still feels like a work in progress to me.)

Instead, I started asking Grok some questions to see what might happen. (If you don’t know what that is, it’s part of “X” formerly known as Twitter.) The results were fascinating. Below, I have listed two of the questions I asked and the answers it gave me. The answers are pretty long, so before I show them, here are some of the concepts that I found to be beneficial:

1. It didn’t give me specific answers to specific questions, but it did give me advice on where to look, and potential obstacles.
2. It saved me from chasing down some rabbit holes that could have taken FOREVER to explore.
3. It suggested when I might be dealing with some misspellings.
4. It told me about what the migration patterns were in a specific area.
5. It suggested possible marriage dates, spouses and locations.
6. It discussed the governance during the time frames
7. I didn’t have to provide much detail to get started.
8. Etc.

In a nutshell, it didn’t give me any miraculous answers, but what I felt was helpful is that it helped me isolate possible mistakes, where to look, and where NOT to look.

Using Grok’s responses, I was able to chase down an ancestor that had been gumming up one of my lines for a long time, leading to a bunch of new names for ordinance work.

It also helped turn my burners on to delve deeper – and it was fun! I also believe that as this gets refined and the Church keeps developing A.I., it is going to be AWESOME!!

I am a firm believer in the idea that technology can be both inspired and used to further the Lord’s work. Sadly, I also believe that evil is usually quicker out of the gate in learning how to exploit new technology. I am convinced that A.I. will prove to be a miraculous blessing as we try and work towards providing ordinances for the 99% of God’s children that didn’t get a chance in their lifetimes.

Give it a try, and let me know what you think.

Here are some sample questions and the answers:

Question: I am looking for information about an ancestor named Avarilla Avy, who might have lived in Rowan, North Carolina in the late 1600’s.

Answer: Searching for an ancestor named Avarilla Avy in Rowan County, North Carolina, during the late 1600s presents some challenges, as historical records from that period are sparse, and Rowan County itself wasn’t established until 1753. However, I’ll do my best to explore possibilities based on available information and historical context, while keeping in mind the tools at my disposal.

The name “Avarilla” is uncommon but appears in genealogical records in various forms (e.g., Avarilla, Averilla, or even misspellings like Avy), often tied to early American families. Since you’re looking for someone in the late 1600s, it’s worth noting that North Carolina was still a sparsely populated frontier at that time, part of the larger Province of Carolina until it split into North and South Carolina in 1712. European settlement in the region that would become Rowan County didn’t begin in earnest until the early 18th century, with significant migration occurring after 1720. This suggests that if Avarilla Avy lived in that specific area in the late 1600s, she would have been among the very earliest settlers—or possibly part of a Native American community with a European name, though that’s less likely given the naming conventions.

No direct records of an “Avarilla Avy” in Rowan County or the broader North Carolina region from the late 1600s appear in standard genealogical sources. However, the name Avarilla does surface in later colonial records, often linked to families in Maryland, Virginia, or the Carolinas. For instance, an Avarilla Perkins (born 1726) married William Simpson and lived in Rowan County in the mid-18th century. Her parents, Richard Perkins and Mary (unknown surname), were from Maryland, and the family migrated southward. While this Avarilla is too late for your timeframe, it’s possible she was named after an earlier relative—perhaps your Avarilla Avy—following a naming tradition common in colonial families.

Another clue comes from the surname “Avy” or similar variants. “Avy” could be a phonetic spelling or corruption of names like “Avery,” “Ivey,” or “Eavy,” which appear in early colonial records. For example, the Avery family, including Waightstill Avery (a prominent figure in Rowan County in the 1760s), traced roots back to Virginia and earlier English settlers. While Waightstill arrived later, his family’s presence in the broader region might hint at earlier kin. Alternatively, “Avy” might connect to “Ivey,” a surname tied to settlers in Virginia and North Carolina by the early 1700s. Without a clear record from the 1600s, though, this remains speculative.

Given Rowan County’s formation in 1753 from Anson County, any late-1600s ancestor in that area would predate its official existence. The land was originally part of the Granville District, and early European activity was limited to explorers like John Lawson (who documented the region in 1701–1709) or Spanish expeditions (e.g., Juan Pardo’s in 1567, though they left no permanent settlers). The first significant English settlements in North Carolina, like the Roanoke Colony (1585–1590), were coastal and failed, while inland areas like Rowan saw gradual settlement by Quakers, Scots-Irish, and others starting around 1720–1730. This timeline makes it unlikely that Avarilla Avy lived in what became Rowan County in the late 1600s unless she was part of an undocumented early incursion.

If “Avarilla Avy” is a lead you’re following from family lore, it’s possible the timeframe or location has shifted over generations of retelling. She might have lived in the early 1700s instead, aligning better with Rowan County’s settlement history, or perhaps in a neighboring region like Virginia or Maryland before her descendants moved south. For example, a Thomas Smithson in Baltimore County, Maryland, died in 1732 and named a daughter Avarilla in his will, suggesting the name was in use among colonial families by the early 18th century.

To narrow this down further, I could analyze specific records or posts if you have more details—like a spouse’s name, a child’s name, or a specific event tied to her life. With your permission, I could also search X posts or web content for mentions of “Avarilla Avy” to see if others have traced her. For now, based on the historical context and naming patterns, it’s plausible she was an early colonial figure whose descendants ended up in Rowan County by the 1700s, but no definitive evidence places her there in the late 1600s. What additional information can you provide to refine the search?

Question: Can you tell me more information about an ancestor named Barnabas Newkirk who lived in Switzerland County, Indiana, around 1835.

Answer: Tracking down information about Barnabas Newkirk in Switzerland County, Indiana, around 1835 requires piecing together historical and genealogical clues, as specific records from that exact time and place are limited. Switzerland County, formed in 1814, was a small, rural area in southeast Indiana along the Ohio River, known for its early settlers of Swiss, Dutch, and English descent. Given the timeframe and location, I’ll explore what’s plausible based on available evidence and context, leveraging the name “Barnabas Newkirk” and its historical associations.

The name “Barnabas Newkirk” suggests a connection to the broader Newkirk family, which has Dutch origins tracing back to the van Nieuwkirk (or van Niewkercke) lineage from the Netherlands. This family arrived in colonial America by the 17th century, initially settling in places like New York (e.g., Kingston, Ulster County) before branching out. One well-documented figure, Barent Newkirk (baptized 1689 in Kingston, NY; died 1765 in Berkeley County, Virginia), is a potential ancestor or relative. Barent’s name sometimes appeared as “Barnet” or “Barnabas” in records due to phonetic shifts or clerical variations—a common occurrence in colonial documentation. He was a millwright and farmer who moved from New York to Virginia around 1732, acquiring land and establishing a family with his wife, Rebecca van Buntschooten. Their descendants spread southward and westward over generations, including into the Carolinas and, eventually, the Midwest.

Could Barnabas Newkirk in Switzerland County, Indiana, in 1835 be tied to this lineage? It’s plausible. By the early 19th century, Newkirk descendants were migrating into frontier states like Indiana, drawn by land opportunities following the Northwest Territory’s opening. Switzerland County’s Deed Book G, covering June 1835 to February 1838, indexes property transactions, but no “Barnabas Newkirk” appears explicitly in surviving summaries. However, marriage records from Switzerland County offer a hint: a Charles Allen married Patsey Newkirk on February 13, 1820, and a John Holdcraft married Rachel Newkirk on December 13, 1820. These Newkirks indicate the family’s presence in the county by the early 1820s, potentially setting the stage for Barnabas to be there by 1835.

No direct record confirms a Barnabas Newkirk in Switzerland County in 1835, but the name “Barnabas” aligns with patterns in the family. For instance, Barent’s descendants in North Carolina included figures like Tobias Newkirk (son of Barent), whose son Abraham fought in the Revolution and had a large family. Some of Abraham’s kin moved northwest after the war, possibly reaching Indiana by the early 19th century. A Barnabas could be a grandson or great-grandson, named to honor an earlier Barent/Barnabas. Alternatively, “Barnabas” might be a variant of another Newkirk name misrecorded over time—records from this era often mangled Dutch names.

What might Barnabas have been doing in Switzerland County in 1835? The area was agricultural, with settlers farming corn, wheat, and tobacco along the fertile Ohio River valley. The 1830s saw growth in river trade, and Vevay, the county seat, was a hub for steamboat traffic. If Barnabas was a farmer or tradesman (like his possible ancestor Barent, the millwright), he might have owned land or worked in a trade tied to the river economy. The 1840 U.S. Census for Switzerland County doesn’t list a Barnabas Newkirk explicitly, but earlier tax lists or the missing 1830 census (if it existed for the county) might hold clues. Newspapers like the Weekly Messenger from 1835, digitized by Hoosier State Chronicles, mention local events but lack a specific reference to him in surviving issues.

One theory: Barnabas could be a transient figure, passing through Switzerland County around 1835 en route to another settlement. Indiana’s population boomed in the 1830s as settlers moved westward, and Switzerland County was a waypoint for those heading to Illinois or northern Indiana. Alternatively, he might be conflated with a later Newkirk; the family name persists in Indiana records into the mid-19th century, though often in nearby counties like Dearborn or Jefferson.

Without a specific document—like a deed, will, or church record—pinpointing Barnabas in 1835 remains speculative. If you have more details (e.g., a spouse, child, or occupation), I could refine this further. I could also search X posts or web content for mentions of “Barnabas Newkirk” with your approval, though genealogical forums might offer more leads than social media. For now, he’s likely a Newkirk descendant, possibly linked to Barent’s line, living as a farmer or tradesman in Switzerland County’s early settler community around 1835. What additional context can you share to narrow this down?