Who Do You Think You Are?

In 1998, in the midst of raising four children, I began spending the wee hours of the morning working on genealogy for my father’s side of the family.  There was a mystery person in my tree that I was eager to find more information on and so coupled with my computer and a few old Bibles,  I began building my family tree.

My father passed away when I was 17; He was 50.    I never knew either of his parents or grandparents.  I don’t remember hearing him tell stories about his childhood other than they called him “Red” for his hair color.  I also knew he had a little sister, Betty, that died when she was two as a result of cat scratch fever.

The person I was most interested in researching was my father’s biological grandfather, “Grandpa Mac.”  I had been to the parish  many years ago where he resided during his childhood to visit the courthouse and obtain as many documents as possible on the family.  Every time I ran across my grandfather’s name, I hit a brick wall.  It was so frustrating.  All I knew was he and my great-grandmother were only married three years, he had my grandmother who was two years old, and he died from an illness at 37 years of age.  That’s all I could find.  I have the drugstore bill,  so I know it was a lengthy illness and I saw a court document that showed my great-grandmother was left with nothing after his death.

With the release of the show, “Who Do You Think You Are?” several years ago, my interest in genealogy was reignited and I decided after being away from my research, it was time to begin again.  With the convenience of my laptop and my Keurig, I settled in to climb that family tree once again.

In one night – granted it took four more hours, I was able to go back five generations!  I was beyond excited.  I found births, deaths,  towns,  marriages, and occupations and oh, I was on a roll.  You know, the kind of “roll” where you don’t cook or clean for days on end?  Yes, that was where I was and it was my cocoon.  My new-found treasure was a website called, www.findagrave.com (morbid I know) and most often it shows photos of headstones.  That was invaluable.  I also searched quite extensively on www.ancestry.com but honestly, in the beginning, the grave marker site was more resourceful.

So in regards to Grandpa Mac, I found that, yes, he did die at 37 and my great-grandmother was 15 years younger than he.  So, there she was at 22, a widow with a two-year-old.  I needed to sit and ponder that.  Yes, I cried – just a little.  I also discovered Grandpa Mac’s family was large with seven children, but it appeared that they might have been a puny bunch.  One passed away at 2, another at 8, my great-grandfather at 37 and his brother at 41.  To make matters worse, his mother, Miss J, was left to raise these children after a divorce from her husband.  Who needs soap operas when you can delve into your family history.

So after getting to bed late that first night, I couldn’t wait to return to my tree and see what else would be discovered.  I had just begun to look at census records and found them to be a perfect picture of history.

The photo I discovered of my paternal great-grandfather, Grandpa Mac.

The second day I was determined to find more information on Grandpa Mac.  I want to know what he died from, what his occupation was, was he perhaps married prior to his marriage to my great-grandmother and so on.  I realized shortly after I began working, that to have access to the meat of the documents,  I was going to have to bite the bullet and pay for a membership with ancestry.com.  I only paid for a month, and it was worth every penny.  Within five minutes, a picture – a portrait – of Grandpa Mac popped onto my screen and I screamed with joy!  “Well, hello there Grandpa. It’s so nice to meet you finally.” I stared at this precious man for eternity.  Grandpa Mac now has a face to go with the name and a handsome face at that. I looked at his eyes to see if I saw a resemblance to any of his offspring, then his nose, his bone structure, and his mouth.  Oh, I love this!11

As I continued to scour the census records, I came across the 1930 census.  Now let me back up a little here.  My dad was raised as an only child after the death of his baby sister.  In my mind, I pictured him in a quiet home with his mother, the strict school teacher and his father, the laborer in the sawmill.  He probably played with neighbors but basically had a quiet childhood.  We often laughed at what must have been culture shock when he married my mother who had seven siblings and they were quite the fun bunch!  Daddy went on to have six children of his own.

To my surprise, the census listed my father as sixteen months old and living with a host of family members:  his mother, his father, his grandmother and grandfather (his grandmother had remarried), his uncle (who was only

My sweet dad as a young boy.

11 years old and was always like a brother to him) and his great-grandmother!  Wow.  That changes my perspective completely.  I can’t imagine the love bestowed on my father and the rich culture he grew up in.  I have not been able to pin down how long they lived in this situation, but it brought an enormous smile to my face to know he had indeed lived in a large family setting and tell me, what’s not to love about my dad as a precious little boy?

Have you researched your family tree?  I encourage you to dive in and see what hidden gems you might find.

With a smile and a happy heart,