Roots Cellar, 1989, and the Cousin Who Was Waiting for Me

How a classified ad in a 1980s magazine taught me everything about leaving a legacy.

OK, I'm pretty pleased with myself. Do you see the self-satisfied grin?

The other day I was talking about Endings and Beginnings in the Notes section on SubStack. (See link at end.)

In that previous note, I was trying to remember the name of the magazine I subscribed to back in the ‘80s and ‘90s. I finally found it: Everton's Genealogical Helper. That was it. I think. Maybe. Pretty sure!

It had this section in the back … what was it called? It was like a classified ad for people "Seeking information on this person."

So it's Saturday night, there’s nothing good on TV (just bad news and tired reruns) and I wonder: Can I retrace my steps? Can I time travel to the 1980s and find my cousin again for the first time?

Let’s Set The Scene

I don’t know about hair and clothes, but we can certainly find music for this. How about Richard Marx’s, "Right Here Waiting"? Because, in a way, that’s where my cousin was.

Here you go. You can listen while you read.

Just think of this as a love song to genealogy research. Because, really, can't you see it? "You've got me going crazy ..." 

Everton’s Genealogical Helper used to come in the mail every other month, and it took several days to read the whole thing. I faithfully scanned every single name in every single issue. Cup of coffee. Kid in my lap. Winnie the Pooh on the VCR. Finger running down the page.

I didn't know many family names yet, or very much about how to conduct research, and it seemed like nobody was looking for my ancestors. But then, one Saturday morning, there she was — Great-Great Grandma!

I almost spilled coffee in my daughter's lap!

Last night, I found myself craving that old thrill of discovery. The question was, where could I possibly track down a 35-year-old magazine at 8 p.m. on a Saturday?

• I did not save my copies. Too bad, because they’re selling like hotcakes on eBay.

• FamilySearch says back issues are available on microfiche. Yeah, no.

• The Internet Archive has tantalizing teasers, but only people with visual impairments can check these issues out. Do trifocals count?

• The Seattle Library has physical copies. But I would have to wait until tomorrow. Patience is not my virtue.

The 30-Minute Time Machine

After a bit more Googling, I locate the actual digital files at MyHeritage. Ta-da! It pays to snoop.

The only problem: I can't just page through the magazine here, because MyHeritage wants me to search it like a database. And now I'm thinking more about this magazine. I think the sections in the back were called Root Cellar and Bureau of Missing Ancestors. Is that right? It would be easy to find out if I could browse this collection.

Hello, I would like a "browse" feature, please. Is anybody listening?

But I try searching for my cousin's name, and there she is in the Sept-Oct 1989 issue. One line. One cousin. One Root Cellar number.

If I conduct a follow-up search for 36858, I should find all the names she submitted to the Root Cellar. So I do, and ...

Déjà vu.. Hello, Great Great Grandma!

And so, right here in 2025, I retraced my 1989 steps without ever leaving my living room.

It took about 30 minutes. It was better than reruns. It would have been even better if I had gone to the library and located the physical magazines, and I think I will do that in the near future.

Finding Gretchen

But what did I just accomplish?

I guess I just remembered how things were.

I remembered the tech stack we had back then, after I poked around a bit more and found some great software ads for the Commodore 64. I'll talk about that more later this week.

Most of all, I remember Gretchen.

1996 correspondence from Gretchen

I remember this older cousin I had never met who answered my mail and sent me all sorts of family information. Over the next few years she sent letter after letter, shared photos, and made phone calls. She asked for introductions to my aunts and cousins and traveled around to meet them.

And I remember that when she first put her names into that Root Cellar, she had no idea who might reach out for more information. She could have sat back and grumbled. “I've done all this research, and my family’s not interested! The younger generation just doesn’t care!”

Instead she planted a seed in the Root Cellar, and the younger generations found her.

Gretchen passed her legacy on, not only to me, but undoubtedly to other young cousins in other branches of her family. She did this with complete and utter selflessness, mentoring as she went along, answering questions, and providing guidance. She taught me the basics of research. She filled in large pieces of the framework on my mother’s mother’s side of the tree. And she had the sense to do it a few people at a time, with lots of back-and-forth conversation, rather than overwhelming me with a giant pile of information all at once.

Whenever I think of her now, I realize Gretchen really was right there. In the Root Cellar. She was just waiting for me.

Who was your "Gretchen"? Was there a mentor, a family member, or a stranger who opened up a new world for you? I'd love to hear your story in the comments.

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PS. Here’s that Beginnings and Endings Note I was talking about earlier:

This is a new installment in a little series I'm calling: 💡 “Second Half Notes.”

Fancy, huh? I am not much of an emoji person, but AI keeps pushing them on me so I caved and used the lightbulb. But as for all the other little symbols it wants me to use. Nope. Not having it. 🪵☕🕰️✏️