For many years, I have been researching our family tree and it is quite an addictive hobby. I would recommend it to anyone, but first a word of warning: if you are fearful of finding skeletons in your closet, then don't open the door. I think it would be a safe bet that everyone has an unsavory character or two in their ancestral line. I have found several!
For instance, there is the great-great uncle, who moved to California and was never heard of again. Wanna know why he was never heard from again? Because he left a wife and two children in Missouri, moved to California, lied about his age, married a much younger woman and had another family -- all while still being married to wife No. 1. Can you say "bigamy"? Of course, all parties involved are now deceased except for some great-great grandchildren.
But I will say that I thoroughly enjoyed tracking down this black sheep, and I have corresponded with one of his descendants. We both got a kick out of unraveling the mystery of my great-uncle Walter. Now my mom had told me that he had been born with a club foot and, of course, years ago, these usually went untreated, so he walked with a limp. As we were trying to determine if we were both researching the same man, I asked my cousin if her g-g-grandfather had a limp. She said he did, because he had been thrown from a horse when he was young. Boy, Uncle Walt could sure spin some yarns!
Of course, you will probably also discover some fine upstanding citizens in your tree. One of my great-grandfathers was a country doctor. He traveled the countryside in a horse and buggy, visiting his patients. I always just figured that he was a self-appointed physician, but I discovered during my family research that he actually graduated from medical school in St. Joseph, Mo. My mom knew and loved him and always said he was a very kind, gentle man. We have a picture of him beside his buggy with his black medical bag. The picture was taken sometime in the 1920s.
I also have quite a few veterans in my tree, from the Revolution on up to present day. When my grandparents married in 1899, both my grandma's grandfather and my grandpa's uncle were still living and had fought on opposite sides of the War Between the States. Must have made for some interesting conversations in both households. I also had a g-g-grandfather who was a Confederate soldier during the siege of Vicksburg, Miss. Before the war he had worked on his uncle's plantation; and after the war, his wife died, his job was gone and he had several small children to care for. It's no surprise that he packed them up and headed west from Louisiana to Texas. And I learned from looking at the muster rolls for another g-g-g-grandfather, who was a Union Cavalry soldier, that he went awol when his daughter was born. I am assuming he went home to see his baby, stayed a few days, then returned to his unit, as the records seem to indicate.
What I love about doing this research, is piecing together, not just the facts, but the stories of the lives that go with those facts. For instance, we knew that another g-g-grandfather had lost his wife at a fairly early age and remarried, but what we didn't know was that his wife had died in childbirth, and the baby only lived a few weeks. This was discovered by looking at birth and death records.
And another pair of g-g-g-grandparents came west on a wagon train from North Carolina to Missouri. I try to imagine the hardships all of my ancestors endured, but I'm sure I have no real idea of how they struggled. Especially during these hot, hot summer days, I think about plodding along in a covered wagon, wearing long-sleeves, and long skirts under which were several petticoats, and I almost faint! And then I think about what that trip would have been like with several kids, and I kind of get a little sickish feeling in my stomach. My poor ancestors!
My daughter's one-year-old baby has been sick with a virus this week, and they have both been miserable -- in a solid house with air conditioning and soft beds. I can't imagine having a sick baby on a wagon train. What a nightmare! I count my blessings every day for how easy our lives are now. I know sometimes it may seem difficult, but at least we have air conditioning and indoor plumbing.
I guess it's true that all these people lived their lives the best they could, given their circumstances (even old Uncle Walter). I hope that someday my descendants will look back on my story and say the same for me.
So if you decide to start digging up bones, I wish you luck, and I hope your skeletons aren't too scary!
Here's a hint: interview the oldest living member of your family and tape record the conversation. You might be amazed at the stories they can tell. Until next time, start filling in those branches, and Happy Memories Y'all!
Tamela Weeks is a freelance writer in the Gentry area. She may be reached by email at [email protected]. Opinions expressed are those of the author.
Editorial on 06/29/2016