​Shock and horror! Today is the fortieth anniversary of my first day of work in genealogy.  Where has all that time gone?
 
I should add that I was a mere teenager then, albeit months away from not being one.  It was a dream-come-true.  A few days earlier I had my ‘interview’ with Gerard Slevin, the Chief Herald, and I tried to impress him with my meagre knowledge of the records.  He already had made up his mind.  The Genealogical Office had a backlog of pre-paid searches and not enough researchers.  Unknown to me, my enthusiasm had been mysteriously recommended to him and he was prepared to give me a chance.
 
What was on offer was not a job.  It was a place on the panel of freelance researchers for the GO.  I would be guided in my initial steps and I would be paid for the searches I completed.  Mr. Slevin’s advice has rung repeatedly in my ears over the forty years since: Get it out of your system and then get a real job (or words to that effect).
 
He was not denigrating the profession of genealogy, as it didn’t exactly exist in Ireland at that time.  No one conducting genealogical research for a living.  Third level students did it part-time as a source of income; mature married women did it to stimulate their brain; people of independent means did it for the enjoyment.  I was going to do it because it was all I ever thought of as a career.  Perhaps I should have thought harder!
 
Working in genealogy for forty years has been hugely rewarding to my soul; had it been equally rewarding in monetary terms I would be a billionaire now.  I’m not a billionaire.  I had no desire to be wealthy and I knew genealogy would never make me rich.  That, at least, was an accurate prediction.
 
This day forty years ago was thrilling for me, as I stepped across the threshold of the GO as one of its freelance researchers.  I experienced delight and terror in equal measure.  I met with kindness and encouragement from staff members and freelance researchers alike.  They gave me an excellent grounding in genealogical research on which to build over years and decades.
 
It was in February 1979 that I first met my fellow freelance researchers, Eileen O’Byrne and Eilish Ellis, both now gone to a better place.  They were my seniors in age, education and experience but they never made this gormless eejit of a teenager feel like anything other than a colleague.  How can that be all of forty years ago?
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