It Doesn't Matter

I think that every parent at one time or another [and maybe more than once] has "lost" their child.  Maybe it was in a department store.  Maybe it was at the grocery store.

No matter where it was, while you were looking for them, if you're the praying kind, you probably prayed, "It doesn't matter just as long as I find them."  [Or something like that.]  Then after you found them safe and sound [maybe hiding amongst the stacks of toilet paper in the grocery store], relief washed through you like a cleansing rain.  And your very, very first thought was, "It doesn't matter why you ran off.  I'm just so glad I found you."

Later there will be time for lectures and scoldings, and [my favorite], "Don't ever do that again!" demands later.

But the "I-don't-care-I'm-just-so-glad-I-found-you!" feeling is powerful.  Maybe even desperate at times.  Nothing else matters.  Just that I found you.

This is exactly how I feel when I'm searching for my ancestors.  [*snort*  Minus the panic.  Sometimes.]  When I finally find them, that's how I feel.  Never mind that I've been looking for them for years.  And not just looking for their vitals either.  I'm talking about really finding 'em.  Their nicknames.  Their likes and dislikes.  Their hopes and fears.  Their stories.

So here's what I have to say to my very, very dear ancestors:

It doesn't matter that I really don't have a "go-to" person in my family for remembrances, stories and whatnot.  [Did you never talk about yourself?  Geez Louise.]

It doesn't matter that I spend countless hours in libraries so cold that meat could be hung in there looking for you in books that look like they haven't been read, much less touched, in years.  All for just a shred [A measly shred.  Is that too much to ask?] of your very existence.

It doesn't matter that I'm going cross-eyed trying to read your contemporary's awful [God-awful] handwriting in hopes of finding where you lived or who you lived with [Geez.  Another wife? *rolling eyes heavenward*].

It doesn't matter that I have to look for your tombstone in a cemetery that looks like its last visitor ~alive or not~ was in 1965.  Or that your tombstone is probably underneath the brush left from the last hurricane.  And that it's broken.  Or that the side of town that your cemetery is in is not so good ~to say the very least~ and after looking, like forever, I still can't find you, and my tummy is growling because I skipped breakfast and lunch to find your tombstone, and I have 30 minutes left before I have to pick up the kids from school.  And there's nary a fast food restaurant around.  Nor a bathroom.  Nor a gas station [cuz, oh yeah, I need gas, too.].

It doesn't matter that I have to drive to Galveston Island, Texas and take photos of where the family farm once was.  Near the beach.  [And the waves can be heard from there.]  Or that I have to go spend time on the 3rd floor of the library where the archives are located looking for you instead of relaxing on the beach with a frosty fruity drink.  Or that I have to take the ferry from Galveston Island to Bolivar Peninsula to take photos of more beach-front property you might have lived on or nearby.  Or that I have to go back again because I got a lead on your church records.  [O.K., so maybe some searches are a little more enjoyable than others.  Thank you.  But maybe you could just send me a message in a bottle while I relax on the beach.]

Likewise, it doesn't matter what your journey was to get to me.

It doesn't matter if you ran away from home.  [Just make sure you left me a paper trail. *wink*]

It doesn't matter if you changed your name five times.  [Just who the hell were ya', anyways?]

It doesn't matter if you had two divorces, three wives, and a few mistresses.  [Oh well, some people never learn.  Just a few more leaves on the trees.  Oooh, and the stories.]

It doesn't  matter that you eloped.  [At least you only married once.  Unlike some people.  I hope you eloped in a neighboring county, though.  Not in some far-flung place that I'd never think to look in.]

It doesn't matter that all you ever had was that little piece of land that you farmed on out of necessity.  [I just hope you were happy.  And that you left the farm records behind.]

It doesn't matter that you were excommunicated  from the Catholic Church because of all your divorces.  [Paper trail. Paper trail.]

It doesn't matter that you lost everything in the hurricane.  [I'm proud you survived and bounced back.  Otherwise, whose great-granddaughter would I be?]

It doesn't matter that you didn't leave any photos behind.  [I wonder if we looked alike.  And who is responsible for my freckles?  Was that you Annie O'Brien?]

It doesn't matter that if you and I are truly related, that you weren't a patriot in the American Revolutionary War.  [I mean, I wasn't there.  Who am I to judge?  I'm just glad you stood up for what you thought was right.  Besides, without you, who would I be then?]


It just doesn't matter.  You're family.  You're mine.


You see, I'm just so glad that I found you.

"She wrote, 'My Mother'"

A Wonderful Discovery
The week after Hurricane Ike the kids and I stayed with my sister in San Antonio for several days.  On the last day right before we left, she mentioned that she had a couple of "tubs" of stuff that was mom and dad's and asked me if I wanted to go through it. [Well, duh...]  To my utter surprise I found many family photographs, memorabilia, and old school projects [of my dad's].  I was so ecstatic.  She also said I needed to get over to mom's house because there were more "tubs" to go through.  [I have yet to go back, but it's on top of my summer "to-do" list.]

Lillie Mae Alley
This is one of the precious photographs that I found of my great-grandmother on my dad's side, Lillie Mae Alley.  She was the daughter of Catharine Caroline Vaughn who I introduced you to yesterday.  This is the photograph of her that my grandma [my Paw-Paw] had of her mother.  She looks so young, and after doing some research, I found that she'd married very young and died young, so this photograph truly captures her innocence and her life.  She passed away when my Paw-Paw was only 6 years old.  Lillie Mae gave birth to four children: Little Pearl, Roscoe Benton, Rettie Maye [my Paw-Paw], and Mabel Irene.  Little Pearl passed away when just an infant, and until I found her, no one knew she'd existed.  I wonder if my Paw-Paw had known...


My Paw-Paw wrote, "My Mother"
While it's never easy to lose a loved one, certainly this was a difficult age for my Paw-Paw to lose her mother, and I wonder what she thought about this photograph that she had of her mother.  On the back, my Paw-Paw wrote simply, "Lillie Mae Alley (my mother).  Following are the lyrics of a song called "Photograph" that accurately captures the feeling I get when looking at family photographs...[written and performed by Charlie Robison, a Texas music performer; see my music picks in my sidebar.]:


Photograph
[written & performed by
Charlie Robison]
Well I got a picture
It's glued in a book
Of most of my family,
 that somebody took

Well Grandpa died early
Before I could know
The man that they tell me
That I take after so

Well I don't remember
But it still makes me laugh
When I see us together
In a photograph

Well mama and daddy
Burned hot like a flame
But it all turned ashes
With no one to blame

and I can still see them
But not in my mind
It's been so long
All my memories lie

Well I can't remember
But it still makes me laugh
When I see us together
In a photograph

Well it happened last winter
We had a son
And they took a picture
Of family, round one

It's there to remind you
For when you can't recall
What your daddy looked like
When you were so small

Though you won't remember
It'll still make you laugh
When you see us together
In a photograph

No you won't remember
It'll still make you laugh
When you see us together
In a photograph

Happy Mother's Day, Lillie Mae...

Caroline

Secrets, Pt. 6: The Rest of the Story...

Joseph Marschall and Emma Rosin

Last, but not least is Joseph Marschall.  So, what happened to him?  Who was he?  I believe that Joseph Marschall married Emma Rosin in 1917 when they both were 24 years old.  He was a medic in the U.S. Army [1918-1919] during World War I and was awarded the Victory Medal.  In 1920, he was living with Emma in San Antonio and was a tree surgeon according to the 1920 Federal Population Census Schedule.  According to early land transactions that I found of my grandfather's, he and Emma [she was included in the transactions and was listed as his wife] bought, improved, and sold land - all in the same area of town that Otto and Jane Rosin [Joseph's sister] lived and also completed land transactions.  [Additionally, Joseph and Emma lived in the same part of town as Otto and Jane.]  However, the transactions ended abruptly with Emma, and I've not been able to trace her after that.

Did Joseph Have Another Wife?
After the transactions that included Emma, Joseph had many more by himself until 1927.  This is where I found a public affidavit that he had filed.  In it he claims that the land [that John and Josephine end up buying from him later] was his before his marriage to an Oveta Marshall, and that Oveta had abandoned him 6 months prior.  I verified when he first purchased this land, and he did purchase it after the land transactions that had included Emma, which indicates possibly that he had another wife.  Two scenarios exist.  Either Emma and Oveta are one in the same, or he married Emma and something happened to her [passed away or they divorced] and then he married an Oveta...I lean a little towards the possiblity that Emma and Oveta are not the same person.  First, the wording and the time line suggested in the public affidavit indicates that he had another wife [if he was telling the truth].  Plus, Emma stops appearing in the land transactions.  Interestingly, Oveta never appears in any transactions - possibly meaning that they weren't married for very long?  Basically, I don't know what happened exactly, but there is sufficient evidence to suggest that he was married twice before marrying my grandmother.  Unfortunately, both Emma and Oveta have proven to be elusive for me and I've not been able to find a marriage record for Joseph and Oveta..Do remember, though that John and Josephine of Galveston, Texas bought the land in dispute from Joseph and immediately mortgaged it plus 26 shares in some stock in order to pay Oveta Marshall $350 per a divorce decree, and they did it for a Joseph Marshall.  They then sell the same land in 1932 to Otto Rosin of San Antonio.  It's possible that Emma and Oveta are the same person, but the name Oveta is not listed as a possible nickname for Emma nor does the name Oveta have germanic origins.  However, anything's possible and without evidence I don't have enough proof at this point.  If they are the same person though, it might explain Joseph's separation from the family, and the land sale to Otto Rosin later, but that could be because Otto lived in San Antonio and John & Josephine didn't, and it would make sense to sell it to him.   After these transactions, my grandfather had many more land transactions - all in San Antonio - that he executed by himself until 1942 when my grandmother - "Paw-Paw" - appears in the land transactions until my grandfather's, "Big Paw-Paw's" death.  My father appears in several transactions as well.


So are Joseph Marshall and Joseph Marschall the Same Person?

I'm pretty convinced they are the same person.  What are the chances that a John and Josephine Marschall of Galveston, Tx. would complete transactions with a Joseph Marshall and Otto Rosin who were not the same ones that they were related to?  Considering that I checked for other Joseph Marshall's [either spelling] that fit the criteria in one way or another and was unable to find one other than this one, I don't think the chances are very high.  [Other Otto Rosin's were checked for as well.]  Also, all the land transactions led back to my grandfather.  The name spelling change from Marschall to Marshall may have been simply my grandfather "American-izing" his name [which was common], or it could represent the separation with the family.  As far as the landscaper angle, I don't know if it was him, but he was a tree surgeon at one time, and remember the landscaping ad was for the 1st high rise in San Antonio in the Laurel Heights area...a possible connection to real estate development [a small one, I know].  It's not any stranger than his brother's occupations [mentioned in my last post], and San Antonio was experiencing economic growth at the time.

Other Avenues to Search
There are many things that I need to find.  To name a few:

• A marriage record between Joseph and Oveta;
• Joseph's and Oveta's divorce records;
• My grandfather's will;
• His appearance in the 1930 Census; and
• Emma...

So, What Gets a Catholic Excommunicated?
Well, the Canon Law of 1917 is written in Latin and is here.  However, I don't know Latin, so I surfed around on forums and websites looking for a simple answer.  [Can you hear me laughing?  Apparently, there are no simple answers when talking about Canon Law in the Catholic Church.]  However, from what I could tell - basically - a marriage after a divorce would get a Catholic excommunicated from the Church because the Church doesn't recognize the divorce...I'm pretty sure my grandfather had been divorced at least once before marrying my grandmother.  Now whether or not he was actually excommunicated and to what level [yes, there are levels or degrees] I don't know.  This is another follow-up that I need to do, but this could also explain a separation between my grandfather and his family...

Joseph Was a Carpenter...
Growing up my dad [Joseph, Jr.] was able to build anything without drawing it up first.  It simply [for him] went from his imagination to creation...[Remember the deck I mentioned in Runaway Bunny?  He built that.]  I once asked him where he had learned to build, and he said that his father [Joseph, Sr.] had taught him.  You see, he'd helped his dad tear-down and build houses in San Antonio...







Where's My Sign?

I still felt that I needed to do something other than what I had already done or listed.  I could have used a sign that had a picture of everyone on it and that read "Hey, Caroline!  Look no further, we're your family".  Too much to ask for?  Probably, but there was something I hadn't done yet that I needed to do...

My Dad's Sister...My Aunt

My dad had a sister, and I hadn't called her yet  for a number of reasons.  First, growing up I wasn't really close to her.  Plus, I thought my mom knew everything that my dad had known, and I'd already exchanged info with her.  I also didn't know how sensitive an issue it would be for her to learn that her father had had another marriage [& possibly 2].  It was time though for the call that should have come first in my quest for answers.  I ended up having a good conversation with her for about an hour & half.  She took everything in stride, and it turned out she knew something more.  While I was listing my grandfather's probable siblings...she stopped me and said, "Wait.  I remember when I was young your dad and I travelling to Galveston to visit our Aunt Ella...her first name was Laura.  I think I remember that her first husband's last name was "Breen" and that he died when their children were young and she remarried.  Also I remember that Roman had died while he was young."  She went on to say that she hadn't thought about that "in years" and probably wouldn't have remembered it if I hadn't mentioned their names...[Oh yeah...]


One Final Twist to the Rest of the Story...
In looking at Rootsweb/Ancestry.com Surname Message Boards and Genforum's Surname Boards under the names "Marshall" and "Marschall", I found a woman looking for a Joseph Marschall...a Joseph Marschall whose parents were John and Emma Marschall of Galveston, Texas.  She provided enough information that I was able to determine that this was the same family.  I posted a response, but didn't get a return response.  In looking at her various posts/requests however, I noticed 2 things: that over time her posts became increasingly urgent, and then one day, they stopped abruptly.  So, on a hunch I decided to "Google" her name which she had provided in her posts, and I found her obituary.  Ironically, she had died the same year as my dad.  According to her posts, she was a descendant of my grandfather's brother, John Marschall, Jr.  She'd indicated that there were no more male Marschall's to carry on the name, but that she'd remembered her father telling her about John's younger brother - Joseph Marschall - who'd been "separated" from the family and had lived in San Antonio, and she was wondering if he'd had a family...Well, he did.  He had a daughter and son...a son who had another son, who had 3 more sons...While the spelling of the name is a little different, it still carries on.  All of them...all of us...descendants of John Marschall from Posen, Prussia who had been..."just a farmer".

So, for your family's sake, go find your farmers!

Caroline

Secrets, Part 5

I'm running out of new and different Galveston pictures that don't have a bunch of peeps in them so this story has to end soon! [Besides, I have an appointment with a guy about some islands that I want...] So, did the Storm of 1900 leave Nettie, Joseph, and Mary orphans?...Nope, it didn't. Remember how in my ignorance I didn't check for any other Marschall's in the 1910 census? If I had, I would've found them. Also, I was able to find a digital copy of the Galveston Commissioners Report of the status of the farms and the farm families after the storm at the Rosenberg Library in their manuscript department. [Oh yeah...] It had good info including their temporary address after the storm, and 2 of their nearby neighbors were the Rosin's and the Cobb's.

I located the Marschall family's death certificates [other than Joseph's, but I did have my grandfather's]; the birth certificates of all the children's children, the men's World War I Registration Cards, and San Antonio land transactions for John Jr. and Otto Rosin [along with my grandfather's]. Below I've listed a summary of each family member to hopefully make things a little easier to understand. [The birth and death certificates were found @ Clayton Genealogical Library [located on Caroline St.], but the death certs can be found now on FamilySearch and Footnote as well.]

John Marschall, Sr.,  Father

After the Storm of 1900, John, Sr. and Emma never lived together again. In 1910, he lived with his daughter, Jane and her husband Otto Rosin in San Antonio at which time Otto was a dairy farmer [maybe John Sr. helped him with that].  In 1920 he lived alone until he passed away in 1928 while living in Hitchcock, Texas [which is on the mainland, but still in Galveston County].  No matter where he lived, he always listed his occupation as a farmer even though he never owned one again after the storm.  He now lays at rest in an unmarked grave in Lakeview Cemetery on Galveston Island.  I did find his Naturalization Certificate as well as a passport application that he filed...wonderful clues left...he was from Posen, Prussia, and his father was...John Marschall, [of course].

Emma Schleicher Marschall, Mother

In 1910, his wife Emma lived with their son John Jr, and his family.  She continued to live on Galveston Island where she passed away in 1927 and is now buried next to her husband in Lakeview Cemetery on the island.  Her last residence was on 31st St near the Strand where the parking lot now is of the Bank of America building [a pity, though, because the nearby homes are Victorian beauties...].  Her parents were Herman and Betty Schleicher of Germany, and Emma was born in New Braunfels, Tx.

John Marschall, Jr. and Josephine Ballou

John, Jr. married Josephine Ballou and was born, lived and died on Galveston Island [he was what we call an "Islander" here]. In 1910, Emma [John's mother] lived with them. They lived in various homes throughout Galveston, and one of the homes [pic on the right] located on 25th St is now an art gallery, Galveston Gallery [not sure of its status after hurricane Ike, though].  John Jr.'s occupations were [in order] farmer [while growing up], fisherman, dairyman, realtor - which actually represents some of the industry trends at the time in this part of Texas.  John and Josephine in 1928 bought land from a Joseph Marshall of San Antonio and immediately mortgaged it plus 26 shares of stock to pay $350 to an Oveta Marshall to get a judgement released against a Joseph Marshall of San Antonio as per a divorce decree.  In 1932 they sold this same land to an Otto Rosin of San Antonio.  John and Josephine had only 1 child, John Raymond, Sr.

Jane Marschall and Otto Rosin

Jane Marschall married an Otto Rosin of Germany, who had been the son of Wilhelm and Caroline Rosin also of Germany.  [Remember the neighboring Rosin farm on the island?...his mother, in my opinion, had a way cool name...]  Otto's 3 youngest siblings were born on Galveston Island - including an Emma Rosin.  Otto's occupations?  Farmer, dairy man, propietor of a house moving business in San Antonio, and was in real estate in San Antonio.  Many Islanders moved from Galveston to "higher ground" after the storm, and at the time San Antonio was experiencing a "boom" and was growing rapidly.  Some of Jane's and Otto's children were born in Galveston and some in San Antonio.  In 1910, Emma Rosin was living with them along with Jane's father John, Sr.  in San Antonio.  Otto and Jane always lived in the area of San Antonio that's south of Interstate-10 and east of Interstate-35 [bottom right corner of San Antonio & near downtown].  And as mentioned before he bought land in San Antonio from John and Josephine in 1932.

Antonetta "Nettie" Marschall and Nicholas Pericles "Pete" Legatos
Nettie [baptized Antonetta] Marschall married, of course, Nicholas Pericles "Pete" Legatos [later changed to Legate].  Pete had been a son of a Greek immigrant and fisherman.  Until Pete's death, they had always lived on Galveston Island and had fished for a living.  After the Storm of 1900, Joseph and Mary lived with them and their family.  Nettie passed away while in Rusk State Hospital [mental insitution] in Cherokee, Texas under mysterious circumstances.


Laura Ellen "Ella" Marschall and Miles Breen; Thomas Cobb
Laura Ellen "Ella" Marschall married a Miles Breen and together with their children lived on the island.  After Miles passed away, Laura Ellen married a Thomas Cobb. [Remember the Cobb farm near the Marschall farm?]  She had 1 son with Thomas.  I found her name as "Ella" on several documents.

Roman/Rolland Marschall

Roman/Rolland Marschall [name found spelled both ways]  died young in 1922 on Galveston Island from a massive heart attack.  In 1910 he'd been the only boarder with a family whose next door neighbors were Breen's.  He's buried in an unmarked grave in Lakeview Cemetery on the island.



Mary Marschall and Harry Esperson
Mary Marschall married a Harry Esperson who'd been a...dairyman and the son of an Aussie & New Yorker.  He and Mary moved to San Antonio and bought a home [but not from Otto or Joseph].  Five months later, Harry died due to complications of Diabetes.  Then 2 months after that Mary became septic from strep throat and passed away childless.  Otto Rosin, her brother-in-law, was the informant on her death certificate.  She and Harry were transferred back to Galveston and were buried there.



...And Joseph?...stay tuned for the rest of the story & secrets...[the end, I promise, is next]

Caroline

Secrets, Part 4 or What's Pete "the Greek Fisherman's" Full Name?

O.K., I haven't taken over the Caroline or Marshall Islands yet [by virtue of their names alone, they should already be mine].  I've been trying to finish this family story of mine, which is taking a lot longer than I thought it would.  You thought so, too?  Be patient...I promise there's an end worth waiting for [at least I hope you think it's worth waiting for].  You have to remember that all this stuff didn't happen overnight, and we certainly aren't going to solve it overnight, either.  [Plus, I'd make your head hurt if I talked about everything in one post...]

So, where were we?  Oh yes, on a farm on Galveston Island in 1900 with a Nettie, Joseph, & Mary Marschall.  [Do you think they could hear the waves while working on their farm?  Just a thought...]  So, were these the same siblings I found in 1910 all in the same household with Nettie's husband, Pete "the Greek Fisherman" Legatos?  At this point, I'm pretty certain they are.  The info given in the 1910 census and the 1900 census for these 3 sibs match exactly [ages, birth, parents' birth, etc.], and there aren't any others living on Galveston Island with the last name Marshall or Marschall with their first names...so I'm leaning towards the fact that these are the same people.  [The true test would be more info...isn't that always the truth?]  Anyway, I mentioned in my last post that they were living with the rest of their family...want to take a guess what their father's name was and where he was born?...You got it!  John Marschall was their father and he was born, according to this census, in Germany.  To make it simpler, here's a quick rundown of this family in the 1900 census:

1.  John Marschall;  Head of Household; born Jun 1857 in Germany; 43yo; married 21 yrs; immigrated 1879; in U.S. 21 yrs; occupation: farmer; and parents born in Germany.
2.  Emma Marschall; wife; born Feb 1857 in Texas; 43yo; married 21 yrs; 7 of 9 children still living; and parents born in Germany.

Children:
3.  John b. Oct 1881 in Tx; 18yo
4.  Jane b. Jul 1884 in Tx; 15yo
5.  Nettie b. Jan 1886 in Tx; 14yo
6.  Saveria E. b.May 1890 in Tx; 10yo
7.  Roman b. Oct 1891 in Tx; 8yo
8.  Joseph b. Jun 1893 in Tx; 7yo
9.  Mare[y?] b. Nov 1895 in Tx 5yo
[and a boarder, William E. Ritz, a schoolteacher - may or may not be related]

This is becoming like a soup that you just keep adding ingredients to...Here are a couple of things that I wanted to point out though - putting aside, for a moment the surname spelling difference...Some food for thought [hey, we're cooking, aren't we?]:  1. This Joseph's birthday is Jun 1893, the same month and one of the target years [1893/95/96] of my grandfather's birth month and year that I'm looking for; 2.  My grandmother indicated on my grandfather's death certificate that his father was John Marshall.  Could it be the same one? [No other John-Joseph relationship can be found in this time period with the surname spelled either way.]  3. This candidate for Mary is spelled Mare, but the birth year and age match the 1910 census, probably could be chalked up to a spelling error; 4. The father's birthplace here in 1900 is Germany - not Poland/Prussia/Texas, which have all been mentioned before for the father of Joseph...so which is it?

I already addressed the 1920 reporting of Texas as the birthplace of Joseph's father.  The listing could be wrong due to clerical error, etc, or this might not be the same Joseph.  As far as the Polish/Prussian/German issue?  Well, I had a  simple & quick look-see at Prussian/Polish/German history [Do you hear me laughing?  I'm laughing because it was neither simple nor quick...Wow! What a history...].  I determined that with the course of history changing due to wars and such, oftentimes immigrants would obviously hear news of what was going on in their homeland and would refer to it in the context of whatever country it was under rule at the time.  In other words, if say , for example, Prussia took over Poland then Poland was given back to the Polish, then immigrants from there would refer to their homeland first as Poland then Prussia then Poland depending on who ruled what, when [I hope that makes sense...]  So, this gives a probable reason for the discrepancy, and if it's true then it might help to pinpoint where John Marschall came from someday [if indeed, he's Joseph's father and this Joseph is my grandfather, of course...]

So, I decided to visit my local genealogical department at Montgomery County Memorial Library in Conroe, Texas.  Not huge, but it's packed with lots of local info.  After looking through all [& I do mean all] the books for Galveston County [O.K., it took me several trips...], I found some "Marschall's" listed in the index of a book entitled, "St. Joseph's Catholic Church, Galveston, Texas, baptismal, confirmation, marriage, and death records : 1860-1952."  Could these be mine, or, at least, the ones I was looking for?  I quickly looked them up and...Bingo!  All the children's births and baptisms were listed as well as witnesses and of course, their parents.  [There weren't any confirmations, marriages, or deaths listed, but, hey I'm not going to be too picky...]  This was indeed the same family.  But was this my family? [...and why does "Catholic" ring a bell...?]

There were some discrepancies [...of course!].  A few names were cleared up:  Saveria E. from the 1900 census was actually Laura Ellen [either transcription or language error] & Mare from the 1900 census was baptized as Mary.  There was an additional child listed, Robert, but remember that Emma, their mother, listed in the 1900 census that only 7 of her 9 children were still living?  This was probably 1 of the 2 that didn't make it. [The other one may not have been baptized before it's death.]  Last, but certainly not least, Joseph's birth was listed as 17 Jun 1890 and his baptism as "Jun...1893".  However, it's highly unlikely that he was born in 1890 because his sister Laura Ellen was born 12 May 1890.  I could be wrong though...[What is it with his birth, anyway?]

I decided to play "What if..." [When puzzled, why not play a game?]  What if...this was the correct family [there were no others that I had found that fit the bill, so to speak...]?  What if...this Joseph Marschall was my grandfather?  If so, what happened to the rest of the family between 1900 and 1910?  Why were Joseph and Mary living with their older sister Nettie...?  Then, it hit me - no pun intended - the Storm of 1900.  You know, the devastating hurricane that hit Galveston Island in 1900 and killed so many?  I quickly "Googled" the storm looking for the exact date...it was 8 Sep 1900.  Then I quickly looked at the date this family was counted in the 1900 census: June 1900.  So, the storm had come after the census was taken for this household...Were Nettie, Joseph, and Mary the only survivors in the family?  I quickly located a list of fatalities and looked for the Marschall name spelled either way, and they weren't listed [just one Harriet Marshall].  Of course, there were only about 6000 of the 8000-12,000 people that actually passed away from the storm on there because they weren't able to find and/or identify them all.  So, they could've passed away and not been recorded at all...I felt sad about the possibilty of this, whether it was "my" family, or not,  because they were someone's family...Did the Storm of 1900 leave Nettie, Joseph, and Mary orphans?...And, were these orphans mine?  [If you're interested, at the bottom of my blog in my book carousel I have featured a book that is about Galveston, Texas; the Storm of 1900; and the reconstruction and fortification of the island...]

Caroline

Secrets, Part 3

Have you ever been to a beach?  Having always lived near the coast of Texas, I sometimes take it for granted.  I love the sand between my toes, the wind blowing in my hair, the sun's warmth on my face, but most of all, I like the sound and sight of the waves as they break upon the beach.  It's a consistent and comforting melody that soothes my soul.  [In fact while we're talking about secrets, my secret fantasy is to have my own island...now that would be cool...maybe I could take over the Caroline Islands or the Marshall Islands...]

Galveston Island, Texas has a unique history.  Some of it's more colorful players in that history include the Karankawa Indians, the explorer Cabeza De Vaca, the pirate Jean Lafitte and his merry bandits [O.K., not so merry, but definitely bandits & no, none of them were "my pirate" - a story for another time] as well as the many immigrants that came through looking for a new home in a new land.  The Port of Galveston ushered in over 133,000 people into the United States.  [If you're ever in the neighborhood, go to the Texas Seaport Museum, a wonderful place that depicts the history of Galveston - my family loved it, and it has a database of all the passenger lists for those who came through Galveston.]  Sometimes I think about what those immigrants saw and felt when they came off that ship. [I'd imagine that a fair share probably kissed the solid ground and were thankful to be off the ship that had carried them here.]  I wonder, though for those who stayed on Galveston Island to make their new home, if they saw the same things that I do when I'm here - that miraculous sunrise over the Gulf of Mexico and that stunning sunset over the bay in the vast Texas sky.  Did they, too, like the sound of the waves and the salty smell of the breeze?

Though my grandfather, Joseph Marshall was born on Galveston Island, Texas 17 Jun 1895/96, he lived most his life in San Antonio, Texas.  In my last post, I explored what I could find out about him on the little bit of info that my dad had shared with me before my dad died.  Here's what I had/found:

1. In addition to his birth date & place, he'd died 29 Jul 1968 in San Antonio, Texas.

2. His father's name was probably John Marshall.

3. He bought/sold/rented/wrecked homes/buildings/land in San Antonio, Texas.

4. Slight chance that he married a woman by the name of Emma Rosin in San Antonio, Texas.

5. He was a WWI vet with a bronze Victory Medal.

6. Was 17-18 years older than my grandma [who was not named Emma - definitely old enough to have had a first marriage, though.]

7. Slight chance he may have been a tree surgeon & possibly involved in landscaping - but not likely - maybe.

8. Was possibly excommunicated from the Catholic Church [just a vague recollection, though].

9.  He was a fisherman or fished at one time in Galveston, Texas...whatever that means.

Lots of "maybe's", "possible's", and "slight chance's," but definitely better than a blank piece of paper [unless, of course, it's all wrong...bite my tongue...]

There was one thing that I'd forgotten to check while we were "in" San Antonio, and that was my grandfather's Social Security Death Index entry.  Luckily, it was pretty easy to find.  I was kind of suprised though to find that his birth year was 1893 - not 1895/96 that had been previously reported.  The lack of any other Joseph Marshall's who died on the same day in San Antonio who was also born in Texas and whose last residence's zip code was my grandmother's zip code as well as the same zip code / quadrant of San Antonio that my grandfather did land transactions in, led me to believe that this was indeed his entry in the SSDI...So, now I have 3 possible birth years...This new one though does coincide with the 1 of 2 Joseph Marshall's found in the 1920 census in San Antonio.  Remember, the tree surgeon married to an Emma, both of the same age?  So, we'll see...

To recap, I wasn't able to find my grandfather in the 1930 census in San Antonio, and as I just mentioned, he may have been the Joseph Marshall married to an Emma, possibly an Emma Rosin [Remember, the marriage record in San Antonio that I found?]  According to that 1920 census of this Joseph and Emma, Joseph was born in Texas as were his parents.  This Emma was born in Texas, while both parents were born in Germany.  So, since I wasn't sure if this was my grandfather or not in 1920 and even though he'd entered the Army in 1918 in San Antonio, I decided to look in the Galveston, Texas census for 1920 anyway.  There were no likely candidates for the position, so to speak.

I then turned to the 1910 census in Galveston, Texas, and there I found a Joseph Marshall.  Well, at least on Ancestry.com.  Heritage Quest and the actual microfilmed copy on both databases have it spelled "Marschall" indicating that the transcriber for the Ancestry.com database might have got it wrong, which happens.  [However, it usually isn't in my favor...]  There were no other Joseph Marshall's on Galveston Island in the correct age range in 1910.  The only closest one was in Fayette County, but I thought it best to go the Galveston route because I didn't have any indication that my grandfather had resided in Fayette County...[a possibility for later maybe, if at all].  This Joseph Marschall was 17yo and the only other "Marschall" in the household was a Mary [15yo].  The head of household was Pete Legatos and his wife was Nettie [24yo].  Joseph and Mary were listed as Pete's brother-in-law and sister-in-law, respectively.  Meaning that they were Nettie's younger siblings.  All three of them had listed their father as being born in Pru-Polish [Prussia] and their mother, Texas. 

Also, remember that vague fishing/fisherman memory that my dad had of my grandfather?  Well, guess what Pete Legatos and Joseph Marschall did for a living?  Yup!  They were fisherman on their "own boat".  Of course, this is an island, and fishing is a big industry here...Do you do jigsaw puzzles?  My family and I do.  You know those irritating pieces that "look" like they fit, but they don't and you want to pound them in and make 'em fit?  Yeah, that's how I felt at this point...

The 2 main discrepancies that are evident between these 2 Joseph Marshall's are the name spelling and the difference in the father's birthplace...Keeping in mind the census is subject to error due to the person giving the info, enumerator errors, and trancription errors [as shown above], I decided to "plug along" with this family for awhile.  [Besides, I didn't have any other likely Joseph Marshall's to follow in the vicinity...]  I also was encouraged by the "finds" in the 1910 census.

Basically, I was left with a lot of questions, but one was bugging me the most.  If [& I do mean if] this was my grandfather and his siblings, where were their parents and any possible other siblings?  In my ignorance, I didn't look any further in the 1910 census for any other "Marschall's".  I assumed that if this Joseph and Mary were - at kind of a young age - living with their older sister and not their parents that something had happened to the parents.  [I now know not to assume anything...]  Instead, I shot back to the 1900 census in Galveston.  Guess who I found living with their family on a farm on the island?...Right!  Nettie, Joseph, and Mary [ages matched the ages in the 1910 census].  Again, here the surname was Marschall, not Marshall.

There were a  few minor discrepancies, but was this my grandfather's family?  Was this my grandfather, Joseph Marshall / Marschall?  [Anyone...?]

Caroline

Secrets, Part I: They Were Just Farmers...

A couple of months ago at my son's basketball practice, I was sorting through some information that I'd found on an ever-elusive ancestor who may or may not be a connection to a pirate [a story for another time]. One of the other mom's asked me if I was a teacher. [I get that a lot. I guess I look like I'm grading papers...] I explained to her my passion for all things genealogical and my business plans. She remarked that my possible relation to a pirate was exciting. She went on to say that she wished she was related to someone as exciting as "my pirate". She also said they [meaning her family] didn't know a whole lot about their ancestors, but they did know, though, "they were just farmers", and she inferred they probably wouldn't be worth looking up.

"...they were just farmers?...not worth looking up?" [Definitely "challenge" phrases for any genealogist.]

I thought about what she'd said a long while afterwards. As other mothers [or fathers] know and as my blog profile indicates, we tend to wear many "hats". My husband is always giving me a hard time because I'm bad at conversation with people I've just met. [My husband is great at it, so we're a perfect match.] I'm a stay-at-home mom and when I meet someone, I don't ever think to ask, "So, what do you do for a living?" I just don't think in those terms. I personally don't want to be limited by just 1 or 2 things. Individually, they don't define who I really am.

Likewise, I like to think about those who came before us as more than the occupation that's listed on whatever census that I've found them on. It does tell me that they worked to provide for their families and how they went about doing it, but it doesn't tell me what their favorite food was, whether they liked sunrises or sunsets better, or what their secrets were...They weren't "just farmers" [or any other occupation]. They were multi-faceted people who had dreams and hopes for the future...

Growing up my mom and dad always liked listening to Paul Harvey, and so did I. He was always able to bring a story to life, then leave you "hanging" through the commercials [impatiently, I might add]. Then he'd give you "the rest of the story". For me, the occupation of an ancestor is just part of the beginning of the story. You have to "dig" for the rest.

In high school, my dad wanted me to "find" our family tree. He explained that the grandfather that I never knew [his dad] had not spoken much [in fact, hardly at all] about his family. Additionally, my dad didn't have a very good relationship with my grandfather. The few things he did know were: my grandfather had been born and raised on Galveston Island, Texas and had fished there; what he did for a living after moving to San Antonio, Texas; his birth and death dates/places; and a vague impression that my grandfather had been excommunicated from the Catholic Church. I was 18 and didn't really have any inclination to find out about my grandfather because I never knew him, and from what my father had told me about him, he didn't sound like a very nice man. As time wears on, though, you start to wonder just where you came from...who you came from...

At the time, I didn't realize just what he'd been asking from me. He wasn't just asking about names, dates, and occupations. While these are important, they don't give you "the rest of the story." My dad had been asking for his family story...and my family story, too. My dad passed away 5 years ago last month. Though I am "a day late and a dollar short" for my dad, I'm not too late for my kids and the rest of my family.

So, what is the rest of my grandfather's story you ask? Well, it wouldn't be any fun if I told you everything now. As Paul Harvey used to say, "stay tuned for the rest of the story...". In the next few posts, I'll take you back in time and give you a glimpse of my grandfather who had secrets that involved love and betrayal; a natural disaster that almost completely destroyed his family as well as a whole community; and the influence of a Greek family. Now tell me, doesn't this sound better than "he was just a farmer?"

So, what's the rest of your family story? Are you satisfied with thinking of them as "just farmers"? Well, I'm not. Get your bags packed and join me as I look at the rest of my grandfather's story...and my family story, too...

Easter + Margaritas = Runaway Bunny?

One year at Easter [I must have been in middle school], my dad had decided to relax out on the deck.  We'd already been to church, and we had stuffed ourselves with ham, deviled eggs, and my mom's potato salad [which used to be my Gran's...is mine now...and one day will be my daughter's].

Well, dad had made some margaritas and was sipping on one while sitting in the hot tub on our deck in the backyard, relaxing.  All of a sudden, a huge bunny rabbit hopped across the yard.  [Yes, you heard right - a bunny rabbit on Easter, no less.]

My dad rubbed his eyes, opened them, and yup, it was a still there - a huge bunny rabbit, white with grey fur.  [I'm tellin' you, you couldn't make this stuff up.]  Anyway, he yelled out for someone to come and see it.  [Yeah, if I were him, I'd want a witness, too]  So, one of my older sisters and I went out there to see what the fuss was all about.

My sister and I looked, rubbed our eyes, looked again, and started laughing.  It was huge, and it looked like it was someone's pet.  My sister and I decided to catch it and return it to it's owner.  [Do you realize how hard it is to catch a runaway bunny?...Not fun.]

Well, Runaway Bunny led us on a merry chase through bushes that left scratches all over us, but we did prevail.  Luckily, we'd been right about him being someone's pet - he was tame.  What we would've done if he hadn't been, I don't know. [We were caught up in the moment.]  Dad, I think, was just glad that it was real and not the aftereffects of too many margaritas.

My sister and I went house to house, put up signs, and did everything we could to find Runaway Bunny's owner.  No luck.  After about a month, it became clear that Runaway Bunny was my new pet.  He was huge, ate a lot, and was very tame.  Basically, he was a big "sweetie pie".  Did I mention he was huge?  When he stretched out while relaxing, he was about 2 feet long, or so, with long ears and soft fur.

So, that was the year the Easter Bunny left me Runaway Bunny.  He has a funny sense of humor - that Easter Bunny.  Strange though, Dad never did drink margaritas in the hot tub again [at least not on major holidays].  Could you imagine?  [Santa, turkeys, cupid, ghosts, goblins, etc.]

So, have a Happy Easter, and may the Easter Bunny show you his sense of humor, too!

Caroline

Wordless Wednesday...Not! America the Beautiful

O.K., that's it. I've officially renamed the meme "Wordless Wednesday". [At least for me anyway] It is now going to be called "Wordless Wednesday...Not!" Let's face it. I can't keep my mouth shut. [and I'm not the only one out there...you know who you are.] I mean, really, how can anyone ask bloggers to not write? It's like what I'm always saying to my kids when they're pouting, "Whatever you do, don't smile," and, of course, they smile...

You know how they say "a picture is worth a thousand words?" I say, what's a few more? [Words, that is. O.K., pictures, too...]

Now for the pictures. I took them last summer when we went to Colorado Springs, CO for a wedding on my husband's side of the family, which was the second wedding summer vacation in a row in Colorado. [Yes, Texans like to get outta' Texas for the summer - it gets hot here...I mean really hot!]

We were on top of Pike's Peak which has an elevation of 14,ooo+ft [after 14,000ft, I stopped counting - I couldn't breathe - anyway, does it really matter?...It was high.]

And it was snowing! Well, just some small [very small] snowflakes, but...in July! [I know. I know. All you Northerners are thinking, "...And?", but we Texans get giddy with snow. It's just the way it goes! I also don't melt in 100+ degree temperatures with relative humidity at 99.9%.]

The view in the first picture above is the view that inspired Katharine Lee Bates to write "America the Beautiful". Well, not all of it. Just the part about the "purple mountain majesties". Unfortunately, it did not inspire any such poetry in me. [However, the cold inspired my son to chant "Hurry up mom. I'm cold"...over and over and over again. Family vacations - aren't they fun?]

Nevertheless, the view absolutely took my breath away! [Of course, that may have had something to do with the fact that there's not much oxygen at 14,ooo+ ft...Maybe... I dunno.]

What humbles me about Pike's Peak is that the view I'm gazing at is the same view that Dr. Edwin James first viewed in 1820. The same view as Julia Holmes, the first woman to reach the summit, viewed in 1858. The same view that inspired Katharine Lee Bates to write America the Beautiful in 1893. While I'm not related [that I know of] to any of these remarkable people and their family story is not connected to my family story, we are connected in one way. We all stood on the same peak and had a glimpse of America's awesome beauty from there. [Not to mention the lack of oxygen.]

All kidding aside, one thing's for sure, Katharine, you got it right. America sure is beautiful!

Now, if someone in our family would get married in a state that I need to do family research in...now that would be awesome...a working vacation!

[O.K., so I added more than 1 picture. Oh well, let's just change the name to "Wordless Wednesday - Not, and Add All the Pictures You Want!" It does have a ring to it...

Caroline

Good Ol' Johnny

I liked Thomas MacEntee's idea of "Surname Saturday" @geneabloggers on Twitter so much that I decided to use it for my blog today [plus I didn't have to come up with my own theme - thanks Thomas!]

Now, I know this is supposed to be a list of surnames that I'm researching,...and I'll get to that...just as soon as I tell you a story. [You didn't really think that you'd get away without a story did ya'?...Ha!]

First, though, a little quiz: does anyone know what Johnny Appleseed's real name was? [Yeah, I know, a quiz AND a story - What can I say? It's 2 for 1 day]

When my son was in 2nd grade, he was asked to play Johnny Appleseed in a play because he read so well [proud mom]. Does everyone remember ol' Johnny Appleseed [ya' know, the guy with apple seeds who went everywhere with a pot on his head]? Well, because they were 2nd graders, they were going to read their parts instead of memorizing them [Hallelujah! Have you ever tried to get a 2nd grader to memorize a lot of lines for a school play?].

Well, everyone read their parts, sang their songs, drank their cider, and basically had a grand time. There's nothin' like seeing your 7 year old son wearin' a long beard and and a pot on his head! [Johnny's later years.]

Little did I know, at the time, that we actually had a connection to good ol' Johnny Appleseed [well, my husband and children do...sorta']. While researching the Hackett's on my husband's side, I found him [or, he found me - aren't those the best finds?].

In a biographical and regional sketch of Bloominggrove, Richland County, Ohio, Johnny Appleseed was purported to have gone through there at one time or another [note the preciseness of the account].

"Really?", you ask. A guy named Johnny Appleseed actually went through a town named Bloominggrove?...in a county named Richland?...in the great state of Ohio, no less? [Say it ain't so, Joe.]

I know, who'd a "thunk" it? [more Texas-speakl]

O.K., so we're not related to good ol' Johnny [at least, not that I've found], and maybe he didn't stay with "our" Hackett's there, but he is [again, purported] to have stayed with their neighbors [only hundreds of acres away - he did like to walk, so, who knows?].

Was it coincidence that my son played Johnny Appleseed in 2nd grade? [I dunno. This is a rhetorical question.]

Do you know what Johnny Appleseed's real name was? [This is not rhetorical. Drop me a line and your answer in a comment, please.]

So, speaking of elementary school, does anyone have a John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt in their family? [me neither...& apparently, no Appleseed's either - at least not of the name variety. I have plenty of fruits and nuts in my family tree, though...]

Note: Along with no animals being hurt in the writing of this blog, I do have appropriate documentation to substantiate my writing, and it's available for your perusal. [Just as soon as I track down my 2nd grade teacher and have her sign a statement in the presence of a witness and notary affirming that she did, indeed, tell me the story about good ol' Johnny...I think it was 2nd grade...or maybe it was 1st...hmmm...]

O.K., here's a few of the names that I'm researching:

Hackett [PA>OH>IA]
Casteel [TN>IL]
Marshall / Marschall [Posen Prussia>TX]
Blacketer [VA>KY>IN>IA>MO>TX
Truitt [VA>MD>DE>KY>TX]
O'Brien [IRL>LA>TX]
Martin [NC>TN>IL>TX]
Vaughn / Vaughan [VT>CAN>MI>TX]
Vaughn / Vaughan [NC>VA>TN>KY>IL]

Caroline

My Gran's Southern Hash

The term, "hard times" has been tossed around lately, and I don't think that everyone knows what it means exactly. I'm not talking about politics or the market, though. While those are important for the "why", I'm talking about the "how." How did it affect the everyday family?

Just what did it mean to the everyday family?

I can still remember interviewing my Gran (my grandmother on my mom's side) for my family tree project my senior year in high school. I remember asking her, "how was life 'way back then'?" [My interviewing prowess showing even then! lol] While my technique obviously needed work, I think, in this case, it may have have been the right approach. Her answer was so clear and simple, but powerful. She replied," Dear," [my Gran always started a story with "Dear,..."] "during the war, we would wait in line on 'meat' day with our ration books." [Huh?]

Since we were sitting at the dinner table with full tummies and my mom in the kitchen doing the dishes, her reply caught me offguard. As a friend of mine likes to say, "I just don't have a slot for that." I couldn't compute that statement.

She went on to explain about rationing books and not having enough meat to go around during World War II. They were allowed only so much meat [and other goods] per week per person. Could you imagine - in this day and age in America - standing in line with your neighbors every week with your ration coupon books clutched in your hands in order to receive your ration of food items for the week for your family? [And to think I complain about having to go to the store...]

I also now understand my Gran's recipe for Southern hash. You see, my husband & I disagree on what hash really is. He was born in Iowa, but got to Texas as fast as he could, and I am a Texan, born and raised. [Hey, y'all!] Whenever my Gran would visit, she'd make hash at the end of the week, which consisted of all [and I do mean all] the leftovers in the fridge and homemade biscuits. And everytime I make it for my family, my husband always says that it isn't really hash, but a stew concoction of sorts. He says that real hash is made with corned beef and potatoes and served for breakfast. [Well, my Gran's Gran was 100% Irish, and I know what corned beef is. It's what you eat with cabbage on St. Patty's Day] To be fair, though, I have had corned beef hash, and it makes a wonderful breakfast. O.K., so there's 2 types of hash: Southern and not-Southern [but my Gran's hash is the real one - at least for me...]

While I make Gran's Southern Hash for my family [and "stew" for my husband] out of nostalgia and comfort [and yes, sometimes out of laziness - I really hate going to the store], my Gran made it out of necessity in order to feed the mouths of 8 growing children. My Gran's story about "hard times" during World War II is similar to a lot of other people's stories who went through it.

They scraped.

They saved.

They made "do" with what they had.

They hunkered down. [Texas-speak]

They worked long and hard to put food on the table for their families.

That's their family story.

It's my Gran's family story.

And it's my family story, too...

Caroline

A Family Story Told...

I just read this awesome and touching "family story." It isn't my story, but it is a wonderful example of finding one's family story (or a "chapter" of it), and how it unfolds before your eyes bringing the past to the present. It's about a Col. Isaac Erwin Avery and his last moments as a Confederate soldier. Because of certain circumstances, he's buried in a crude grave, and his family is left not knowing his actual grave site. Later, his body is exhumed and moved to Washington Confederate Cemetery (within Rose Hill Cemetery) in Hagerstown, Md due to Gov. Bowie's (Md) decision to honor the Confederate soldiers in a cemetery set aside for Confederate soldiers. The soldiers are identified and marked (346 in total). Those not identified are buried there as well in unmarked graves, which number 2122.

Though the soldier's last words are used by a prominent member in American history, the Col's family is never notified of the grave's whereabouts, and went undetected until a newspaper article in The Washington Times in 2007. President Theodore Roosevelt in Raleigh, North Carolina at the unveiling of the statue commemorating Sir Walter Raleigh, became "choked up" when it was time to read a yellowed piece of paper he held in hands. He handed it to Lord James Bryce (Britain's minister to the U.S.), which after reading it, Bryce responded, "President Roosevelt, we have nothing to compare with this in the British Museum." A true and rare compliment, indeed. You see, they were the words of Col. Avery who knowing he was about to die, he scrawled in his own blood with his left hand (he was paralyzed on the right due to his fatal injury)the following request, "Major, tell my father I died with my face to the enemy." His father eventually sacrificed a total of 3 sons and later another due to injuries sustained in the Civil War.

This story, which is told in its entirety at the link below, is a perfect example of how learning your family story can bring not only closure to a family chapter, but fill-in important facts about your family story. It's kind of like the difference between reading a non-illustrated book and an illustrated one. While you can't read "picture" books all the time [yes, I'm serious], neither can you tell your family story without "pictures" [literally & figuratively]. It's called many things in genealogy like: "filling-out your family tree", "adding branches or leaves to your tree", "fleshing-out your family". It doesn't matter what you call it, just do it. Find your family story. You'll never know what you might find -- a military hero, a thoughtful and loving son, a courageous soldier, a pirate [I've got one - a story for another day...], etc. Sometimes you find them, and sometimes in the midst of looking for one, another one will find you!

One thing is certain: you'll never know until you try.

http://genealogytrails.com/mary/washington/averyfamilystory.html

Caroline

Why Know Your Family Story?

What is your family story? Is it what you did this morning? Is it what you did last week? How about last year? Or, does it have anything to do with you at all? The thing about a family story is that it's all of the above and then some. It's about you and everyone in your family that came before you. It's also everyone in your family that comes after you. Each person is a chapter in your family story.

So, why care about your family story? I once read somewhere that everyone has a deep desire to know where you came from, who you came from, and who your people are. It's a desire to know where you belong. It's your heritage, and one day it will be your legacy. What will people remember about you? Just your birth, marriage, & death dates? Aren't you more than that?

Of course you are, and your ancestors are more than that, too.

Whether they were famous, high in social standing, or hard-working farmers, they were real people with real lives just like you. They lived, they loved, they grieved...they were everyday people.

Everytime I look at my family's old pictures, I always wonder what they were thinking when the picture was taken. Were they really as happy as they seem to be in the picture? One thing is for sure: I wish I had been there with them and I wish I knew them. These people who I am related to by blood. Would our similarities be apparent? From whom do I get my stubborness from?

As you are sitting there -right now- you are not a void. You are not a hole in history. You have a life. You have a place in your family, and you have friends. Your days are filled with your activities. You are an ongoing family story.

What will your children's children know about you and your story later on when you're no longer on this earth? Will they know your story, or will they just know your basics - birth, marriage, death, etc., or worse yet, will you be a void on your family tree? The chapter that's missing from the book?

Your ancestors were once more than a void in the family tree. They were more than just their vital stats. They had homes, jobs, and lives. They were mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins, nieces, and nephews. Each with their own chapter in your family book. Their own story that interweaves with all the other family members' stories creating...your family story.

Join me as I take a tour through history and my family story. Maybe yours looks like mine...

Caroline