Last weekend was Easter—for both the Catholics and the Orthodox—and I visited the Appalachian ancestral home of the Carpatho–Rusyn side of my family. Before leaving town I drove up to the old cemetery on a hill overlooking the old church and the Juniata River to pay my respects to those who came before me and without whom I would not be here.
At the end of the four-hour drive back to Philadelphia, stuck in traffic on the Schuylkill Expressway because of course, I realised I had never really looked holistically at the causes of death of my direct ancestors. Earlier this week I spent some time putting that together and then, of course, I realised I wanted to see if I could find any patterns in the data. So of course I made a chart.
If we go back a couple of generations, you can see my ancestors lived to a median age of their mid-60s. But by the time of my grandparents that has increased to almost 80. Of course, the sample size is far smaller for grandparents than great-great-great-&c.-grandparents. Nonetheless, the general trend of the median line is upward.
A few exceptions pull those lines in both directions, however. Catherine Sexton died at the age of 35 from heart disease and James Scollon in the same generation died at 36 from typhoid fever. Additionally, that generation includes a few ancestors who remained in present-day Slovakia in what was one of the most impoverished areas of Europe. Not surprisingly they died in their 40s and 50s. If I exclude those people, the average shoots back up to about 70.
I also decided to colour the minimums and maximums by gender, because as you can see there is a broad pattern of longer-lived women and men who died young. I want to dig more into that aspect of the demographics at a later date to see if that trend holds. I suspect it would because that is the historical trend, but you never know.
Credit for the piece is mine.
