You can call me Ray….

Back in the 70’s, a comic named Bill Saluga made the rounds on all of the variety style shows. He appeared wearing a zoot-suit and a chapeau often with a cigar dangling from the corner of his mouth. The name of his character was Raymond J. Johnson Jr. and the lead in to his comedic tirade was when someone called him Johnson, to which he would reply:

Ahh, ya doesn’t has to call me Johnson! You can call me Ray, or you can call me Jay, or you can call me Johnny or you can call me Sonny, or you can call me RayJay, or you can call me RJ… but ya doesn’t hafta call me Johnson.

It was funny at the time and is still worthy of a chuckle. However, I have also often heard these lines in my head while searching for my ancestors. They seem to be giggling and taunting me from the grave with the issue of what their names really were! I think that they knew I would have access to all of these records, so just for fun they changed their first and middle name a couple of times and then to take it up a notch they spelled their last name about 14 different ways. Yep, it’s true.

If I have learned nothing else from doing family research it is beware of the nickname and conversely, respect the nickname. My grandfather had the nickname of Daker, yet no one really seems to know where it came from or who gave him that moniker. For a time, his youngest son was known as Little Daker. In turn, he calls my mom “Fib” from Fibber McGee and Molly. While it is highly unlikely that any of these three would knowingly and willingly use these on documents, in days past it wasn’t unheard of.

A moment of perspective: Several weeks ago I took my sister to the airport and stood by as she checked in. The clerk at the service counter asked her what she preferred to be called as she processed her identification and boarding pass. The clerk jokingly noted that her name on her driver’s license was her “government name” and not her “real” name. We were tickled by that comment but it stuck with me. Especially post 9/11. Just know that someone searching for you 100 years from now will most likely have an easier time locating your records because you will have consistent “government name”!

So how did nicknames end up on legal and census and government documents in the days of yore? Easy, peasy baby. If the census taker asked your name would you say you were Jake or would you give her your “government name” of Johnjacobingleheimerschmidt? Somehow I bet you go with Jake. Several years ago my uncle passed away and I assumed his name was Jack. I never heard anyone call him anything but that, so why would I ever think that it was a nickname? Truth is, his given name was Jacob. Didn’t see that one coming….

One of the first nicknames that I had to “undo” was that of my great-great grandmother. I knew that her name was Lettie Elizabeth (Martin) Jordan. It even says so on her headstone.

But when I went back far enough, I just couldn’t find any records of her and I knew she should be there. Solution? I searched one of her siblings paper trail and there I found Lettie….only she wasn’t listed as Lettie, she was Electa. Ah! Now I see. A nickname, a derivative, a deviation equals a roadblock. She probably had been called Lettie for so long, that if they put Electa on the headstone people would have no idea who she was. For all intents and purposes she was Lettie.

The photo above is of  L to R Bird (Raine) Jordan, Electa “Lettie” Jordan and Gertrude Jordan

My most embarrassing moment of nicknamism (I totally just made that up, work with me) came when researching one of my dad’s grandparents. Here again was another moment of “everyone knew him as….”. My mom was fortunate to have met my father’s grandparents and she has related quite a bit of information about them to me. But she always referred to his grandfather as Dick Smith. So, off I go to build my tree and I can’t find anything about Dick Smith. At least not THIS Dick Smith. “So mom, Dick was Dad’s grandfather?” “Yes” she replied. “And so that would be short for Richard or was that his middle name?” “No. Neither. His first name was Marion.”

HUH?

Silence….wheels turning, cogs squeaking…..how in the hell do you get Dick from Marion?

“Mom? Why did they call him Dick if his name was Marion?”

“Oh, he was the town horse breeder.”  Said oh-so-matter-of-fact like she had just given me the score to last night’s ball game

Whew! Gales of laughter and then of course more questions. 

Marion “Dick” Smith with one of his prize Percherons and a cow

I later found out that he bred Percherons for the cowboys, as they lived in cattle country. These were rare horses even then and the cowboys appreciated their strength and endurance while still managing to be very nimble animals.

I shared this story with my nephew earlier in the week and he had a similar story to share. He said that he had spoken with his elderly grandfather (Grady) several times over the past year about Grady’s grandfather (E.G.). Grady insisted he knew his grandfather but became vague whenever E.G. was mentioned. Too many birthdays, confusion and poor hearing didn’t aid in the resolution or recognition of the name. Yet, my nephew felt sure that he had the right person, right documents and the right place. So, he loaded up Grady in the car and drove out to E.G.’s grave hoping that would get something flowing….make that connection as it were. Grady still wasn’t sure, it just didn’t click with him. Frustrated and seeing his opportunity to learn more first-hand information slipping by with each passing day, my nephew did additional research and located a death certificate for one of E.G.’s children. He was listed as the father….not under his give name or his initials of E.G. but by the nickname of Dick. When my nephew asked his grandfather about Dick it was like someone had flipped a switch! “Dick? Yes, that was my grandfather. Why did you keep asking me about this E.G.?”

Deep sigh and perhaps a giggle.

Remember in your research that this nickname thing is a blessing and a curse. It gives you an additional name to search for but remember, you have to refer to your ancestor in such a way that the living know who you are talking about. If I inquired about Electa to any of my aunts and uncles, none of them would have a clue who I speaking of. While that might be her “government name”, it was not what she was known by. Any more than Dick Smith or E.G. AKA Dick were known by their given names.

Remember the line from the intro song to “Cheers”?  “Where everybody knows your name….”

Only if you use the right one, dear…..only if you use the right one.