We find what was kept, and prove what it shows.
A Chicago-based genealogical practice. Documented research at five levels, and a bound heirloom volume at the end of it.
Most families have a box. An album with corners coming loose, a folder of certificates, a name someone wrote on the back of a photograph and never explained.
That box is evidence, and it is almost never enough on its own. The work is establishing what it actually proves — which names hold up against the record, which are family tradition, and which are simply wrong. Then finding the documents that fill what is missing.
How far back?
It is the first question everyone asks, and the hardest one to answer with a price. As far as the records allow is a hope rather than a plan — it gives neither of us anything to hold on to, and it is how a project quietly becomes open-ended.
So the depth is settled in advance and does not move. In every book we work toward your great-great-grandparents — up to sixteen people, born for most American families somewhere between 1800 and 1860, which is exactly where the records begin to thin and the work slows down. Settling that line before we begin is what lets me give you a real figure rather than a guess.
What you choose is width. How many of your ancestors should your book take in?
Some lines stop whatever the budget — adoption, unknown parentage, records that burned. The book says which of yours were reached, which were not, and why.
If you want one line followed further, to the ancestor who crossed the ocean or the one who fought in a war, that is a Deep Line Extension and it is quoted on its own.
The five levels
Not every family history starts with a book. Some start with a single question, or with a DNA result nobody has been able to make sense of. Level 1 exists to break one specific deadlock — a single defined question, answered and documented.
Every conclusion is sourced. Where the record contradicts the family story, you are told, and you are shown why. The full comparison is on the Research page.
How the work runs
There is no lengthy proposal process. Four steps, and you are not left waiting until the end to see what you bought.
Chicago, specifically
A great deal of this city’s paper burned in 1871, and a great deal more was never filed in the first place.
The streets were renumbered in 1909 and again in 1911, so an address before those years is not the address you would look for now.
Parish registers outlived the civil ones, and the school and ward records survived because they sat outside the fire’s path.
Working here means knowing which substitutes exist. That knowledge is the difference between the records are lost and an answer.
And not only Chicago
Chicago is where I work from, not the limit of what I work on. The research behind this practice runs across the United States coast to coast and back into the British colonies, and out again into twenty-six countries — my own families, my husband's, and the families of friends who became the first clients.
What that has actually involved: German and Nassau parish registers, Icelandic and Scandinavian farm records, Irish and English parish and civil registration, passenger manifests out of Le Havre and Bremen, colonial-era land and probate papers, military service and pension files, and orphanage and children's-home admission records — the kind held by an institution rather than a county, and reached by asking the right archive the right question.
Almost nothing of Chicago's photographic record survived the fire. What did survive, survived because a family kept it.
Start a conversationThe initial consultation is complimentary and takes about 30 minutes.