All human experiences are not unique, but are shared by generation after generation. Love, loss, ambition, hope, grief - the whole big journey. Others have gone before us and others will go after - it's a comfort somehow. To be ignorant of what occurred before you were born is to remain perpetually a child. For what is the worth of a human life unless it is woven into the life of our ancestors by the records of history?
Marcus Tullius Cicero

Since 1978, I have been interested in my Ancestry. I have wondered who my many ancestors were, where they came from, why they came to this country. So began my search and my passion for genealogy took hold, with very deep roots. A couple of years ago, I became interested in joining the DAR - never believing I'd actually get in. It is very hard to find all the data you need and that they will accept. You must prove a straight line from yourself, back to your Revolutionary War Ancestor. From the year they were born in the 1700's to the year you were born. About a year ago I decided to give it a try. I spent many hours pouring through census information, military records, going to cemeteries, to courthouses, sending to other states for birth, death and marriage certificates, making copies and last but not least meeting many times with the local DAR chapter representative who would look over my data and send me back home to look for more, or to arrange it in a different format. Finally the day arrived when the local chapter accepted my data and said it was ready to be sent to Nationals in Washington, DC. I was told that it could be rejected once there or 'they' could request more data. So with baited breath I waited and waited. Then two week ago the local chapter contacted me and said I was accepted and I would be receiving my certificate soon. On Monday of this week I got it. I just sat and looked at it in awe! My goodness - such a wonderful feeling. Then I began to think back to this ancestor who never knew me, never knew that anything like the DAR would ever exist, never knew I would try to join using his name. Then I also realized that if it had not been for this ancestor, I would not be here today - a new member of the DAR. His name is Isaac Grindstaff.

THE OLD HOMEPLACE
It's been ten long years since I left my home
In the Hollow where I was born
Where the cool fall nights make the wood smoke rise
And the fox hunter blows his horn
I fell in love with a girl from the town
As I thought she would always be true
We raised a family and had a good life
Simple living was all we knew.
Now years have gone - I know not where
And we visited to the old homestead.
It didn't stand where it once had stood
I had such a feeling of dread.
What have they done to the old home place?
Why did they tear it down?
Why did I leave the plow in the field,
And look for a job in town?
Now the geese fly south and the cold wind blows
As I stand here and hang my head.
Gone are my dreams, gone is our old home
All was lost with the old homestead.

Genealogy is more than just a hobby. It can become an addiction. We search our family history in many strange places. We stumble through forgotten graveyards and sneeze our way through dusty vital records archives. We search out our ancestors in census indexes, passenger lists, Church records and various finding aids. We beg (bug?) our elders for any bit of memories they can dredge up. We discuss the events of a hundred years ago and how they might have influenced the lives of our ancestors. We are thrilled about old newspaper clippings and a marriage certificate dated 1852 is a treasure to be wondered at. Most of all, the Genealogy hobbyist loves to share. We work with each other and share our findings with anybody that may be interested in 'our line'. Do we have other jobs - things we have to do? Of course. But a good genealogist knows how to 'Multi-Task' and get all of that done. Then we can settle down, dig through those old papers and smile brightly when we find what we have been looking for - for so long.

Strangers in the Box

STRANGERS IN THE BOX
Come look with me inside this draw, in this box I've often seen
At the pictures, black and white. Faces proud, still, serene.
I wish I knew these people, these strangers in this box.
Their names and all their memories, are lost among my socks.
I wonder what their lives were like - how did they spend their days?
What about their special times? I'll never know their ways.
If only someone had taken time - to record who, what, where or when.
These faces of my heritage , would come to life again.
Could this become the fate, of pictures we take today?
The faces and the memories - someday to be passed away?
Make time to save your stories, seize the opportunity when it knocks,
Or someday you and yours could be, the strangers in this box.

Be thankful for this country we live in. No matter how bad things seem - it is by far the best country in the world. Freedom is a Gift - provided to us by our ancestors, who loved this country. If you are not happy with the way things are, then vote. That is your right and privilege. Pray for our country everyday and thank God that this is where you live.
It is easy to take liberty for granted, when you have never had it taken from you. ~~~Dick Cheney

There are some days, when I am lucky enough to find missing pieces in my family tree, that I just don't want to stop looking. Times when I've looked for a person or information for months, maybe years, then all of a sudden - there it is. So, I want to keep on looking, searching, recording and happily not sleeping until I'm satisfied that I've found it all ( well for today anyway!).