Sunday, September 6, 2026

Best of the Genea-Blogs -- Week of 30 August to 5 September 2026

Scores of genealogy and family history bloggers write hundreds of posts every week about their research, their families, and their interests. I appreciate each one of them and their efforts.


My criteria for "Best of ..." are pretty simple - I pick posts that advance knowledge about genealogy and family history, address current genealogy issues, provide personal family history, are funny or are poignant. I don't list posts destined for most daily blog prompts or meme submissions (but I do include summaries of them), or my own posts.

Here are my picks for great reads from the genealogy blogs for this past week:












Here are pick posts by other geneabloggers this week:

* The Chiddicks Observer Edition 70 [31 August 2026] by Paul Chiddicks on Stories Behind the Records.

* Friday’s Family History Finds [4 September 2026] by Linda Stufflebean on Empty Branches on the Family Tree.

* This week’s crème de la crème -- September 5, 2026 by Gail Dever on Genealogy a la Carte.

* GenStack [5 September 2026] by Robin Stewart on Genealogy Matters.


Readers are encouraged to go to the blogs listed above and read their articles, and add the blogs to your Favorites, Feedly, another RSS feed, or email if you like what you read. Please make a comment to them also - all bloggers appreciate feedback on what they write.

Did I miss a great genealogy blog post? Tell me! I currently am reading posts from over 900 genealogy bloggers using Feedly, but I still miss quite a few it seems.

Read past Best of the Genea-Blogs posts here.

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Copyright (c) 2026, Randall J. Seaver

The URL for this post is:  
https://www.geneamusings.com/2026/09/best-of-genea-blogs-week-of-30-august.html

Please comment on this post on the website by clicking the URL above and then the "Comments" link at the bottom of each post. Share it on X, Facebook, or Pinterest using the icons below. Or contact me by email at randy.seaver@gmail.com. Please note that all comments are moderated and may not appear immediately.

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Guest Post: "The Stories We Do Not Find in the Records" by Olly Wakeman of StoryKeeper

The Stories We Do Not Find in the Records

I work at StoryKeeper, where we help families save the memories, voices, and small details that do not usually make it into a family tree.

BY OLLY WAKEMAN, STORYKEEPER | SEPTEMBER 4, 2026


(A sample StoryKeeper book. Image courtesy of StoryKeeper, from storykeeper.com.)

Most family historians know the feeling: one record answers a question and immediately raises three more. A census gives us a name, but not the nickname everyone used. An address tells us where a family lived, but not who was happy there, who wanted to leave, or what the kitchen smelled like. The records are essential. They are also, by their nature, quiet.

I work at StoryKeeper because I think oral history belongs alongside genealogy. It is not a substitute for a well-sourced tree. It is the place to keep the things no certificate was designed to hold: someone's voice, the way they describe a brother, the reason a photograph mattered, or the story behind a move across the country.

At StoryKeeper, we give a parent, grandparent, or other relative a simple way to answer prompts by speaking, recording video, writing, or dictating. We turn those answers into editable story drafts, let families add photographs, and make a printed life story book. Chapters can also carry QR codes that take the reader back to the original audio or video.

For readers of Genea-Musings, I hope the value is clear: StoryKeeper is not research software. It is a way to make space for the conversations that research alone cannot create.

How I would begin
  • Pick a small doorway. "Tell me your life story" can be a large request. "What do you remember about the house on Oak Street?" is easier to enter.
  • Use records to make better questions. A ship manifest, an old address, or a studio portrait can be a gentle prompt. Ask what happened around the record, not only what is printed on it.
  • Keep memory and evidence distinct. A remembered detail can be precious without being a proven fact. Keep the memory in the storyteller's own words, then pursue the record trail if you want to verify it.

Why We Keep the Recording

The written chapter is only part of the keepsake. A transcript is useful: it is searchable, readable, and easy to share. But a recording holds the pauses, warmth, laughter, and familiar turns of phrase that a transcript cannot carry. 

That is why we link the printed chapter back to the original recording. A reader can turn a page, scan a QR code, and hear the person who told the story.

We also let families review and edit the written drafts, add full-colour photographs, and revisit or download recordings. Their stories and images stay in a private archive, and they can delete or re-record a story. These are important controls for material that can be personal, uneven, and sometimes sensitive.


(A sample interior spread. Image courtesy of StoryKeeper, from storykeeper.com)

A few practical details

Our US and UK product pages describe a full-colour hardcover of up to 500 pages, a free eBook, and a 60-day money-back guarantee. We also offer prompt tools, scheduled gifting, and both 12-month and no-time-limit options. The exact package varies by region, so please check your local storefront.
        Store             Price shown on Sept. 4, 2026                    Official link              

United States                         US $99                                    storykeeper.com

United Kingdom                      £79                                       storykeeper.com/uk
A final thought

Good family history leaves a trail for the next person to follow. Sometimes that trail is a citation, scan, or labelled photograph. Sometimes it is a voice saying, "Let me tell you what happened." There is room for both.

Disclosure: I work at StoryKeeper. Product facts and images are from StoryKeeper's official US and UK websites, accessed September 4, 2026.

Prices, products, and terms can change; verify the current offer at storykeeper.com.

                          =========================================

I was contacted by Olly Wakeman, who works for StoryKeeper.com, recently and I  offered to publish a guest post about it.  

 I welcome Guest Posts on Genealogy and Family History topics.  

Disclosure: I received no remuneration to publish this blog post or to use and describe this product

The URL for this post is:  https://www.geneamusings.com/2026/09/guest-post-stories-we-do-not-find-in.html

Please comment on this post on the website by clicking the URL above and then the "Comments" link at the bottom of each post. Share it on X, Facebook, or Pinterest using the icons below. Or contact me by email at randy.seaver@gmail.com.  Note that all comments are moderated, so they may not appear immediately.

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Betty and Fred’s Story: Building a Life Together – Fred Reports For Duty - August 1944

  Here is the latest chapter in the story of the married life and times of my parents, Fred and Betty (Carringer) Seaver, who married in July 1942. The background information and the list of chapters of their life together are listed at the end of this post.  This is historical fiction with real people and real events, and is how it might have been.

And now we are up to  late-August 1944, two years plus into World War II.  Betty and Randy go to live with Betty's parents, and Fred reports for enlistment and training in the U.S. Navy.

                (AI NotebookLM Infographic - Betty and Fred's Story, Fred Reports for Duty)

Based on the biographies and the earlier stories, I asked Anthropic Claude Sonnet 5 to tell another story - what happened next (I offered some suggestions!)?  


Fred Reports for Duty -- Saturday, 26 August 1944

Twin Oaks Avenue

The alarm went off early, though neither of them had really been asleep. Betty was up first, into the kitchen to get the coffee going and something into Fred before the day took hold of them, and by the time he came out dressed she had eggs on the stove and Randy propped in his high chair gumming a piece of toast like the morning was nothing out of the ordinary.

Fred ate standing at the counter, going down his list one more time — papers, the address of the enlistment center, what to bring and, more to the point, what not to bother bringing, since most of what a man owned wouldn't be coming with him anyway. He'd read it over so many times in the last few days that he probably could have recited it in his sleep, but he read it once more anyway, the way a person does when the alternative is sitting still with his thoughts.

They got Randy up properly, fed and dressed, and loaded the last of the car with what needed to go to Fern Street — the odds and ends still trailing behind the week's packing — and drove up in the early light with the whole day still ahead of them and no way to slow it down.

2130 Fern Street

At the Carringer house, Fred handed Lyle the car keys without much ceremony, and Lyle took them the same way, putting it in the garage as if it were any Saturday. Marshall Chamberlain was already there waiting, his own truck idling at the curb, ready to run Fred down to the enlistment center.

It was the goodbyes that took the time.

Betty held onto him first, and long — longer than either of them had probably planned on, the kind of hug that starts as one thing and turns into something neither person is quite ready to let go of. Fred said something into her hair that nobody else caught, and she nodded against his shoulder rather than trust her voice with an answer. Lyle stepped up next and gave him a handshake with both hands wrapped around it, steady and firm, the handshake of a man who'd already been sent off to war once in his life and knew there wasn't much use in saying more than a few words. Austin's 90-year-old handshake was just as firm, a clap on the shoulder to go with it. Emily and Georgia each pulled him into a hug of their own, Georgia dabbing at her eyes and pretending she wasn't, Emily telling him to take care of himself in the brisk, no-nonsense way that was her particular kindness.

Randy, for his part, had no idea what any of it meant, and reached for his father's collar with a fistful of fingers the way he always did, and Fred kissed the top of his head and handed him back to Betty before he could think too hard about it.

Then it was Marshall's car pulling away from the curb, and Fred looking back once through the rear window at the little knot of people standing on the Carringer lawn, and then the road ahead, and Rosecrans Street, and whatever came next.

Marshall drove him across town to the Naval Training Center, out near Rosecrans and Barnett, and got him there with time to spare before nine o'clock. He pulled the car up as close as they'd let him, and the two men shook hands one more time — a shorter handshake than the ones on the lawn, but no less sincere — and Marshall wished him well and told him to come home in one piece, and Fred said he intended to, and then he was out of the car and walking toward the gate with his papers in hand, and Marshall watched him go before he turned the car around and headed back.

Marshall drove straight back to Fern Street, and he and Lyle didn't waste the morning. They took Marshall’s truck down to Twin Oaks Avenue and loaded up the last of it — Betty's bed, Randy's crib taken apart and stacked in pieces, the boxes of clothes and food and the odds and ends of daily living that a young family accumulates without noticing — and brought it all back up to Fern Street and got it settled into the house. By early afternoon the transformation was complete: Betty and Randy had a home on Fern Street now, not just a room to sleep in for a night or two, and Twin Oaks Avenue stood empty behind them, waiting for whatever came next for it.

Betty and Lyle spent the rest of the day getting the crib put back together and the room arranged, glad of the work, glad of anything that kept her hands busy and her mind a half-step behind wherever it wanted to wander. She thought of Fred more than ten times that afternoon and wondered, without any way of knowing, exactly what he was doing at that moment — whether he'd eaten, whether he was standing in some line somewhere, whether he was thinking of her and Randy the way she was thinking of him.

Fred’s In the Navy Now

Fred's first hours in the Navy were not, as it turned out, dramatic. They were administrative.

He fell in with over a hundred other men that Saturday morning, most of them younger than he was by a good ten years or more, and the day became a long procession from one desk to the next. Clerks took down his name, his birthdate, his address, his occupation — material control engineer, Rohr Aircraft Corporation — and his marital status, building the record that would follow him for the rest of his time in the service. A man asked him about his work experience and wrote down his answers with the mild, practiced interest of someone who had asked the same questions a hundred times already that morning and would ask them a hundred more before the day was out.

There was a physical examination, thorough in a way Fred hadn't quite braced himself for, and a dental check besides, and then a string of vaccinations delivered efficiently and without much regard for how a thirty-two-year-old man might feel about needles — smallpox, typhoid, yellow fever, tetanus, one after another, his arm sore by the time the line finally let him go.

And at some point in the middle of all that processing, standing among strangers in a room built for exactly this purpose, Fred raised his right hand along with everyone else and repeated the oath of enlistment. It didn't take long. It didn't feel, in the moment, like the enormous thing it was. But by the time his hand came back down, Frederick Walton Seaver Jr. — husband, father, engineer — had become something new, a man who no longer fully belonged to himself.

The clothing came next, and it was almost worse than the needles, in its way. He turned over what he'd worn in from Fern Street that morning, and it was bagged up and set aside — headed home eventually, or into storage, he wasn't entirely sure which — and in its place came the beginnings of a Navy wardrobe: dungarees, blues, whites, the pea jacket, more items than he could quite keep track of, all of it issued rather than chosen, all of it stamped as government property before he'd even had a chance to put it on. He was measured and fitted with the brisk efficiency of men who'd done this ten thousand times, and by early afternoon there was very little about his appearance left that would have looked familiar to Betty.

Last came the haircut. He sat down in a barber's chair still more or less himself, hair combed the way he'd worn it for years (straight back), and stood up a few minutes later looking like every other man in the room — the same close crop, the same bare neck, the small vanities of civilian life clipped away along with everything else. He ran a hand over his head afterward, unable quite to help himself, and one of the men next to him laughed and said something about how they'd all look like brothers by nightfall, and Fred laughed too, because there wasn't much else to do about it.

In the late afternoon, the company of recruits visited the mess hall and had a hearty dinner while learning the Navy way of placing their tray and interacting with the mess hall workers.

By the time he was assigned to his company and shown to his barracks, the light outside had gone long and the day had worn him down in ways that had nothing to do with physical effort. The barracks was a long open room lined with double bunks, more men than he could easily count settling their gear at the foot of identical iron frames, and Fred found his own bunk somewhere along the row and set down the sea bag that held everything he now owned in the world, at least as far as the Navy was concerned.

He learned, before the day was through, the shape of the hierarchy he now belonged to — Company Commander four rungs above him, and above the Company Commander a whole chain of officers stretching up further than Fred had much reason to think about yet — and he learned, too, the particular Navy discipline of the bunk: blankets pulled tight enough to bounce a coin, corners folded just so, a small and exacting ritual that would apparently be inspected every morning without fail.

That first night, lying in a bunk that wasn't his own bed, in a room that smelled of new wool and disinfectant and too many men breathing the same air, Fred was aware in a way he hadn't quite been all day of everything he'd left behind that morning. There was no Betty beside him. There was no small, warm weight of Randy sleeping down the hall. There was only the low murmur of other men settling in around him, men he'd known for less than a day, and the particular silence of a barracks trying to fall asleep all at once.

He thought about the enlistment center gate, and Marshall's car pulling away, and Betty's face on the Carringer lawn that morning, and he thought — because there wasn't much reason not to admit it, at least to himself, at least in the dark — that he had no earthly idea, lying there, what the next six weeks would ask of him, let alone whatever came after.

Taps sounded at 9:30 p.m. somewhere across the base, thin and a little mournful in the warm California night, and around him the barracks settled by slow degrees into something like sleep. Fred lay a while longer with his eyes open, thirty-two years old and further from home than he had ever quite managed to feel before, and thought of his wife and his son, asleep by now, he hoped, in the house on Fern Street, and let that thought carry him the rest of the way down.

Tomorrow there would be reveille at half past five, and a day built entirely out of other people's orders, and the slow, deliberate work of turning a husband and father and engineer into a sailor. Tonight there was only this: a barracks full of strangers, a bunk that would take some getting used to, and a great distance, suddenly, between Fred Seaver and everyone he loved.

To be continued...

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Here is the Google Notebook Video Overview about this time in Betty, Fred and Randy's life in late August 1944 (also on my YouTube channel):  

This story is historical fiction based on real people -- my parents and me -- and a real event in a real place. I don't know the full story of these events -- but this is how it might have been. I hope that it was at least this good! Claude is such a good storywriter! I added some details and corrected some errors in Claude's initial version.

Stay tuned for the next chapter in this family story.

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The AI-assisted ABC Biography of my mother, Betty Virginia (Carringer) Seaver, is in ABC Biography of #3 Betty Virginia (Carringer) Seaver (1919-2002) of San Diego, California. I also  wrote Betty's Story: The First-Year Art Teacher about the start of her teaching career.

The AI-assisted ABC Biography of my father, Frederick Walton Seaver, is in ABC Biography of #2 Frederick Walton Seaver Jr. (1911-1983) of Massachusetts and San Diego, California.  I also wrote Fred's Story: The Three-Day Cross-Country Escape  and Fred's Story: "I Need A Girl" about him coming to San Diego, and wanting a girlfriend.

Here are the previous chapters in this story:

                           ==============================================

Links to my blog posts about using Artificial Intelligence are on my Randy's AI and Genealogy page. Links to AI information and articles about Artificial Intelligence in Genealogy by other genealogists are on my AI and Genealogy Compendium page.

Copyright (c) 2026, Randall J. Seaver


Please comment on this post on the website by clicking the URL above and then the "Comments" link at the bottom of each post.  Share it on Twitter, Facebook, or Pinterest using the icons below.  Or contact me by email at randy.seaver@gmail.com.  Please note that all comments are moderated, and may not appear immediately.

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Saturday, September 5, 2026

Saturday Night Genealogy Fun -- How Do You Use Artificial Intelligence Tools?

 Calling all Genea-Musings Fans: 

 It's Saturday Night again - 

time for some more Genealogy Fun!!



Here is your assignment if you choose to play along (cue the Mission Impossible music, please!):


1)  How do you use Artificial Intelligence (AI) tools to help you understand the lives, history, and geography associated with your family and your ancestors, that aid your genealogy and family history research?  

2)  Please share the ways (at least one way!) that you use AI tools in your genealogy and family history research. 

3)  Share the ways you use AI in your genealogy and family history work in own blog post, writing a comment on this blog post, or put it in a Substack post, Facebook Note, or some other social media system.  Please leave a comment with a link on this post so others can find it.

Here's mine:

The most obvious way that I use AI is to create engaging biographies and family stories based on a genealogical sketch that provide historical and social context to the lives of my ancestors.  Every day I post an article that is AI-generated and edited by myself for content and accuracy. Usually, I use the free Anthropic Claude for the biographies, memoirs and family stories. 

I use the Google Search AI feature to find limited information like "what restaurants were open in San Diego in 1918."  These are usually questions and answers that add to my family stories.

I use the free OpenAI ChatGPT5 and Google Gemini 3 to provide answers to complex questions like "Describe the feeding and use of pigs and hogs in the 19th century," or "Describe the shoe and bootmaking process in 1880," or "What was the enlistment and boot camp process for the U.S. Navy in 1944," or ""Describe 20 Free or Low-Cost Genealogy Education Opportunities."

In the past, I've used the free AI tools to create images, poems and song lyrics about my own life and the lives of my ancestors, and then used the song lyrics to create an actual song with music using the (free but limited) Suno AI tool. I also use a Canva presentation to use the Suno-created song in a YouTube video.

I use the free (but limited) Google Gemini Notebook to create Audio Overviews, Video Overviews, Infographics and Slide Shows for most of my AI-assisted biographies and stories.  I use the Infographics and Video Overviews to illustrate and tell each family story.  Then I add the video overview to my free YouTube channel.

I use the free MyHeritage Scribe AI tool to transcribe, translate (if not in English) and analyze a letter or document, or to analyze a photograph. 

I use the free FamilySearch Full-Text Search to find records (especially land and probate records) for an ancestor and then use the record transcription (edited as required) to add content to my genealogical sketch for the ancestor, update my RootsMagic database with an event, description and source citation, and write a blog post.

Occasionally, I use Steve Little's Genealogy Research Assistant AI tool to analyze my research about a specific ancestor, including discussion about satisfying the Genealogy Proof Standard and to provide suggestions for future research.

All of my Artificial Intelloigence posts related to genealogy and family history are on the Randy's AI and Genealogy page.

                          =============================================

The URL for this post is:  https://www.geneamusings.com/2026/09/saturday-night-genealogy-fun-how-do-you.html

Copyright (c) 2026, Randall J. Seaver

Please comment on this post on the website by clicking the URL above and then the "Comments" link at the bottom of each post. Share it on X, Facebook, or Pinterest using the icons below. Or contact me by email at randy.seaver@gmail.com. Note that all comments are moderated, and may not appear immediately.

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Ask AI: "Describe the Feeding and Use Of Pigs and Hogs in the 19th Century"

 While reading some of  the stories about my ancestors' life on the farm, I wonder how they did common tasks.  One of the tasks was "feeding the pigs."  

I asked OpenAI ChatGPT5 the question:  "I have so many farmers in my ancestry, and they all had pigs on their farm. Please explain how they fed the pigs and used the pigs for food or sale."

(AI Google Gemini Notebook Infographic - Pigs on the farm in the 19th century)


The Feeding and Use of Pigs and Hogs 

In the 19th century


Pigs were almost the perfect farm animal for a 19th-century American farm. They could turn things people couldn't easily eat—kitchen scraps, garden waste, spoiled or surplus grain, milk byproducts, and pasture—into pork, lard, and money. For many of your farming ancestors, the pig pen was essentially a small food-processing plant attached to the barn.

What did they feed the pigs?

The exact diet varied with the farm, season, and period, but pigs were remarkably flexible eaters.

Corn was usually the basic feed. Farmers might feed pigs whole corn, shelled corn, cornmeal, or corn that had been ground or soaked. On farms growing corn, pigs were a convenient way to convert the crop into something much more valuable than the raw grain.

But pigs also received a tremendous variety of other food:

  • Kitchen scraps: vegetable peelings, potato skins, stale bread, table scraps and other leftovers.
  • Garden waste: cabbage leaves, turnips, pumpkins, squash, beets and other surplus vegetables.
  • Milk and dairy waste: skim milk and buttermilk could be especially valuable pig feed on dairy farms.
  • Grain waste: oats, wheat, barley and the screenings and waste left after milling.
  • Potatoes: surplus or small potatoes were commonly cooked or otherwise prepared for pigs.
  • Fruit: windfall apples and other fruit that wasn't suitable for the family table.
  • Pasture: pigs could forage for roots, insects, acorns and other natural foods.
  • Farm waste: pigs could consume materials that otherwise had little value.

One important point is that feeding pigs was not necessarily an elaborate operation. A farmer might simply carry a bucket or trough of feed to the hog pen once or twice a day. On a larger farm, feeding several dozen hogs could become a substantial daily chore.

The farmer was really "feeding corn through a pig"

This is an important concept for understanding the economics of your farming ancestors.

Suppose a farmer raised corn. He could sell the corn, but he could also feed it to pigs. The pig converted the corn into pork and fat, which were considerably more valuable and useful on the farm.

So a farmer might think of his hogs as a way of marketing his grain through livestock.

There was another advantage: pigs produced manure. That manure went back onto the fields and helped maintain soil fertility.

It created a little agricultural cycle:

Corn → pigs → pork/lard + manure → fields → more corn

That was particularly important before modern commercial fertilizers became commonplace.

Pigs weren't necessarily kept in a tiny pen all year

The image of pigs permanently standing in a muddy pen can be misleading.

On many farms, especially earlier in the 19th century, pigs were allowed to range or forage. They might be turned into woodlots, fields, orchards or pasture where they could find roots, nuts, insects and other food.

In the autumn, pigs could be particularly useful in woodlands with mast, especially acorns. A farmer could essentially let the pigs harvest part of the forest's food supply themselves.

Later, more farmers used fenced hog lots and specialized pens, making feeding more controlled.

And the pigs had to be protected from weather. A barn or hog house gave them shelter, especially in winter.

What happened when the pigs were ready?

This is where pigs became extremely important to the farm household.

A farmer generally had two choices:  Sell the live hogs or butcher them for the family's use.   Sometimes he did both.

A family might keep several pigs and sell some while reserving one or more for winter meat.

For a farm family, butchering hogs was a major seasonal event. It was often done in late fall or early winter, after cold weather arrived. The cold helped preserve the meat before refrigeration.

The process was labor-intensive. The hog was slaughtered, scalded, and scraped to remove the hair. It was then opened and dressed. The carcass was divided into familiar cuts:

  • hams
  • shoulders
  • bacon
  • ribs
  • chops
  • sausage
  • jowls
  • spare ribs

And almost nothing useful was wasted.

The fat was enormously valuable

One of the most important products wasn't actually the meat.

It was lard. The fatty portions of the pig were rendered in a large kettle. The melted fat was strained and stored. Lard could be used for:

  • frying
  • baking
  • biscuits
  • pie crusts
  • cooking
  • greasing pans
  • soap making
  • various household purposes

Before modern vegetable oils became common, lard was a basic household commodity.

A successful hog could therefore supply a family with a considerable quantity of cooking fat.

Preserving the pork

Your ancestors didn't have a refrigerator or freezer, so producing pork was only half the problem. They also had to preserve it.

The traditional method was curing with salt.

Hams and shoulders were rubbed or packed with salt, sometimes with additional ingredients such as sugar or saltpeter. They were allowed to cure for weeks.

Then they could be smoked.

A farm might have a small smokehouse where hams, shoulders, bacon and other meat were hung over a slow, smoky fire.

Properly cured and smoked meat could last for many months.

This was crucial because the farmer's hog wasn't simply providing tonight's dinner. One hog might help feed the family for much of the coming year.

Sausage and the "everything but the squeal" principle

Farm families tried very hard not to waste anything.

  • Trimmed meat and scraps could become sausage.
  • The intestines could be cleaned and used as sausage casings.
  • The head could provide meat for head cheese or other preparations.
  • The feet could be pickled.
  • The skin could have uses.
  • Even the blood could sometimes be incorporated into traditional foods.

Hence the old saying that farmers used "everything but the squeal."

It wasn't merely colorful folklore. For a family living largely from what its farm produced, wasting usable animal products made little economic sense.

And pigs were a source of cash

This may be the most interesting aspect for your family-history research. A farmer didn't necessarily raise hogs simply because his family liked pork.

Hogs were livestock that could be converted into cash.

A farmer could sell:

  • young pigs

  • breeding stock

  • fattening hogs

  • mature hogs

  • dressed pork

  • hams and bacon

  • lard

The farmer might take hogs to a local market, butcher, livestock buyer, railroad shipping point, or larger regional market.

In areas such as Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa and Wisconsin, hog production became increasingly important as transportation and commercial meatpacking developed during the 19th century.

A typical farm might have a little "pig economy"

Imagine one of your ancestors around 1850.

He might have a few breeding sows and a boar—or obtain breeding services elsewhere.

The sows produce a litter of piglets. Some piglets are retained as future breeding animals. Others are raised for meat.

The farmer feeds them surplus grain, kitchen waste, garden produce and whatever they can forage.

As autumn approaches, the farmer decides: "We'll keep two for the winter and sell four."

The ones being sold are taken to market. 

The two remaining hogs are fattened through the fall. In November or December, they're butchered. The family spends several days processing the carcasses. 

The resulting hams and shoulders go into curing. The bacon is prepared. The sausage is made. The fat is rendered into lard.

And suddenly the farm has a winter's supply of meat and cooking fat. That's farm self-sufficiency in action.

Why pigs were particularly important to farm families

There was also a practical family reason for keeping pigs.

Cattle were extremely useful, but a cow was a relatively large investment and provided milk and perhaps draft power or breeding stock.

A pig was comparatively easy to raise and reproduce quickly.

A family could start with only a few animals and build a herd.

And unlike cattle, pigs didn't have to be kept primarily for milk or work. Their principal product was food, and they could reach market weight relatively quickly.

That's why when you look at old agricultural censuses, farm inventories, probate records and diaries, you frequently encounter surprisingly large numbers of hogs.

And then I asked:  "Would the farmer slaughter and butcher the pigs, or would a butcher do it?"

The ChatGPT5 Response was:

For most of the 19th century, if the pig was being raised for the family's own use, the farmer and his family would normally slaughter and butcher it themselves. If the pig was being sold, however, the situation was different—the buyer, butcher, or eventually a commercial meatpacker would generally do the slaughtering.

On the farm

A typical farm family would have done the entire job themselves, often with help from neighbors or relatives. It was a big, messy, labor-intensive job, so butchering day was often a community affair.

The basic sequence was:

  1. Kill the hog — usually by bleeding it after stunning or otherwise dispatching it.

  2. Scald and scrape it — the carcass was immersed in very hot water so the hair could be scraped off.

  3. Gut it — the internal organs were removed and saved or discarded according to their use.

  4. Split and cool the carcass — the meat needed to cool quickly in cold weather.

  5. Cut it up — hams, shoulders, bacon, ribs, chops, sausage meat, etc.

  6. Render the fat — the fatty pieces were cooked down into lard.

  7. Cure the meat — salt, brine, and/or smoke were used to preserve the hams, shoulders and bacon.

The farmer might have had special equipment—a large iron kettle for scalding or rendering, butcher knives, meat hooks, a chopping block, barrels for brine, and perhaps a smokehouse.

But there were professionals, too

A farmer could hire a local butcher to come to the farm and do the job, particularly if the family didn't have the necessary skill or help.

And there was an important distinction between a farm butcher and a commercial butcher.

If your ancestor took a live hog into town and sold it to a butcher, the butcher would normally take possession of the animal and handle the slaughtering and dressing. The farmer got paid for the animal rather than dealing with the carcass.

By the late 19th century, this became increasingly commercialized. Farmers could ship or haul hogs to livestock markets, where they were purchased by butchers and eventually by large packing companies.

Summary

For a typical Pennsylvania, Iowa, Wisconsin, or New York farm family in the 1840–1900 period, Home slaughtering was probably the norm for the hogs intended for household consumption, unless there is evidence otherwise. It was simply part of being a farm family.

There's also a fascinating social side to this: hog-butchering day could be one of the biggest workdays of the year, with several men doing the slaughtering and cutting while women and children handled sausage, lard, cleaning, cooking, and preservation. 

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The Google Gemini Notebook Video Overview of this story is below and on my YouTube channel: 

This process may seem so quaint and complicated to modern readers (who usually get their pork products from a grocery story ready to cook), but it was necessary for our ancestors in the 19th century and before.  But somebody had to do it.  

The social history of almost any time and place is available in the pre-trained masterial used by the AI Large Language Models.  In the recent past, we would have to find and read books about farm life, take notes, and write a story about it. Now the AI tools can answer our questions in minutes and present it in a logical way for our understnading.  

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Links to my blog posts about using Artificial Intelligence are on my Randy's AI and Genealogy page.  Links to AI information and articles about Artificial Intelligence in Genealogy by other genealogists are on my AI and Genealogy Compendium page.

Copyright (c) 2026, Randall J. Seaver


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