What's in a name?

For the researcher, not a lot, but for the bearer is is an intensely held possession. I was reminded of this when I filled out the Census form. No place for the birth name by which I have been known all of my life; only a single block for one letter. Most of the permanent documentation of my most dramatic life events presents no opportunity for recording it.

After a lifetime of struggling with IRS, voter registration requirements etc I have finally succumbed to acceptance. But somehow when I am in the joy of public recognition of work or at times of the pain or anxiety of illness it just doesn't feel right to be called by a name I don't recognize.

Stumbling into the LDS databases with their millions of names, dates and the briefest of descriptive text I first thought "where are the stories? Do the names and numbers really inform?" But they are a place to start. Then I realize should anyone seek to add my name to a chart or even learn something of my story, I will likely never be recognized again as I am now by family and friends.

I am grateful for the hard work of the compilers, but it is not enough.Without the stories, the history; it seems simple accounting of livestock. And if you are a person of the land it is not enough even for livestock. I am reminded of one of my favorite myths.

A flatlander driving in the North Georgia mountains misses a curve and falls in a ditch. A man with a mule appears and offers help. Once extracted the flatlander compliments the mule and asks the owner his name. The man replied; "I don't rightly know, but we call him Jack."