I love genealogy. I thought the
aptly-named “Who do you think you are?”
was the best show ever on television. Watching celebrities that I liked and
with whom I felt some connection struggle with their own searches, digging ever
deeper into family secrets, family questions and mysteries, was something that
I looked forward to all week long. Seeing the awe on Mathew Broderick’s face
when he stood on the Civil War battlefield where his great-great grandfather
fought; watching Sarah Jessica Parker’s flood of relief when she found out her
great-great-grandmother (arrested for witchcraft in Salem) was never brought to
trial since the witch trials were shut down as she awaited her turn; seeing the
joy on Emmet Smith’s face when he
visited the village in Africa where his forebears lived before being taken as
slaves to America—it all serves to keep the history alive. No longer dry facts
in dusty books, the history becomes real stories of real people who loved and
cried and fought to determine their own destiny.
I didn’t always love genealogy. As
has probably happened to a great many people before me, I was plunged into it
rather suddenly when both my parents died. Suddenly I was poring through papers
and seeing photographs that I had never seen before, wondering who these people
were and how they were connected to me. It was immediately overwhelming,
inspiring and fascinating.
Luckily for me, I still had an aunt
who could help me put some of the pieces together. She could put names to the
photos that were blank on the back, and she was able to tell me that my
great-grandmother’s maiden name, Keyes, was not pronounced "Keys," but “Kize,” as in “eyes”
with a K in front of it. I was lucky to have her for a brief 7 months longer,
as she was the last of her generation. Now there is no one left to ask.
Doing my own research from there, I
discovered several online sites where people can search for data and assemble
family trees. The great thing is that people can share trees, sharing pictures,
stories, data and connections back and forth, ensuring that late-comers don’t
have to re-invent the wheel as they start their own family investigations. It’s
a great community, helpful and supportive and similarly obsessed.
For some reason, there’s a huge
sense of satisfaction in adding to the family tree, adding a name, adding the
dates of birth and death. But there’s an even greater satisfaction in
uncovering the stories between the dates. This is where the real gold lies. I
find it fascinating to discover the people who made dangerous and sometimes
desperate journeys to find a new beginning. I love reading about people who
challenged the odds, who envisioned freedoms and opportunities only dreamed
about, who struck out alone or with young families to find a better way. It was
amazing to read about my multi-great-grandfather who had been impressed into
the English Navy only to find himself at anchor on the east coast of the new
America. Not allowed to go ashore, he and a handful of other men devised a plan
whereby they requested to be allowed to take a small dory out for exercise. For
three days they did this, coming back to the ship each evening until finally,
on the fourth day, they rowed directly for the new land and disappeared within
it. Changing his name to avoid capture, my forefather plunged deep into the
wilds of the new land and built a new life with nothing but his own dogged
determination.
The point I want to make is how
valuable these stories are. And I don’t just mean the ones from centuries ago.
I mean the stories we hear now from fathers, mothers, aunts, grandparents. Every
family has them, but they seldom get written down. That’s the tragedy. When the
main storyteller passes on, those stories often pass with them. Oh, they’ll be
remembered for a few years, maybe retold a few times by the ones who heard them
originally, but then they’ll be lost. And that’s a loss not only for the family
but for humankind.
Luckily, in this day and age, it doesn’t
have to be that way. With computers, it’s easy to write things down, print
copies for family, even e-mail them to distant cousins. The stories don’t have
to be in any particular format, they don’t have to be in a formal style. Just
get the main characters down, the main activity, the places and dates. I know
most people find writing difficult, but just jotting down notes is enough, at
least for a start. And it could lead to a whole lot more.
The good news is that, with
self-publishing options today, family stories can be published as real books
for very little money and a little bit of effort. If you’re read my other
blogs, you know that you can publish a quality book for just about $10. Yes,
$10; I know because I’ve done it.
So this Thanksgiving, when you’re
all sitting around the living room enjoying a piece of pumpkin pie and hearing
the old family stories, do us all a favor and write them down. Make it a family project and ask everyone to write
one story they enjoy. Collect photos to enhance the stories, maybe add
newspaper clippings if any exist. You might be pleasantly surprised by the gems
you uncover.
And if you’re really inspired, you
might end up producing a book that could live on well past the storytellers.
You just might find yourself adding to the infinite history of the human race.
How cool is that?
Just as a postscript, I want to add something else--please, please, label your photographs! A few years ago I inherited a box of photos and genealogy info that came from a woman who had married into my family but had no children, so she was no blood relation to me. I looked thru the box once, closed it up and put it aside. Recently I decided to find a more closely-related descendant to give it to, and was able to locate on thru Ancestry.com. As I was packing up the box for shipping, I went thru all the pictures--must have been 30 or 40 of them. Ninety-nine percent of them had no name, no date, no info to identify them at all. These were beautiful, exquisite photos from the 1800's, but there is no longer anyone alive who can identify the people. I'm hoping the person I sent them to might have some clue to these people's names and relations, but if not, I find that just incredibly sad.
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