This could be a true story:
It's 1880
Mr. Smith the census taker got the job because his uncle is a city councilman. Mr. Smith may take a bit of alcohol now and then. He doesn't like to work hard. He's been knocking on doors for hours. He only has one pencil left and he's chewed off the eraser. It's a cold March day and all he had for lunch was a bit of bread and cheese. He gets to the house where your great gramps lives. Gramps has only been in America for maybe three years. His accent's heavy.
Mr Smith: Your name, sir.
Gramps: Wolfgang Dietrich
Mr Smith writes Vulvang Dirtrich
Mr Smith: Where were you and your parents born?
Gramps: Prussia
Mr Smith writes Russia
Mr Smith: How old are you?
Gramps: 25
Mr Smith hears and writes 29
Mr Smith: Your wife's name?
Gramps: Lisoletta
Mr Smith writes Lisleta
Mr Smith: Where was she born?
Gramps: Austria
Mr Smith writes Australia
And in 2019 you start looking for your ancestors Wolfgang and Lisoletta Dietrich AND THEY DON'T EXIST ! Your gramma lied to you, you think. Or maybe she was senile when she told you about Wolfie saving the mayor from being run down by a streetcar.