Blog Liberation

Call this an index, call this a research log, but I call it amazingly liberating!

I’ve been grunting through the common obstacles of Genealogy Research for several years along with my mother and a few other family members. It’s hard to take a bunch of odd puzzle pieces and begin to make an actual picture. Different family members have different pieces of the puzzle, everyone knows SOMEthing. If they are at all, they're researching in completely different avenues. I’m sure any of you other family history researchers know that all too well.

Everyone wonders at some point who and where they came from. Some actually act on it. And isn’t it funny how these urges, and the means to satiating them all seem to come in spurts? For me, it's like the beconing fragrance of fresh-baked cookies in the oven.

So this grand central station, this Familyology- in REAL TIME, is my hope that we'll all have somewhere to come back to to see how we're doing collectively. We don't have to have all the eggs in one basket. (ie. at one person's house) It's not good to do that anyway...

I’m still relatively new to blogging, but am learning a little more technical stuff each time I get in here. I am beginning to feel not only the spirit of genealogy surging through me, but previously dormant creativity as well. I am so excited to be doing this!!! I truthfully can hardly keep up with the desire to get everything I have ‘out there’... Have patience with me, I can only do so much so fast. I just hope extended family picks up the ball, too.

What's the motive?

Well, religious principles aside, I had an embarassing encounter I'll never forget, and I vowed to myself never to pass on the legacy of ignorance to my own family.

I was given the choice after my graduation from High School probably a bribe/reward for graduating), to either take a trip to Europe or take a trip to New Orleans and get a used car. Tempting as Europe was, to also have a car when I got home from my travels was more appealing. I had the opportunity to fly unaccompanied out to see "Aunt Eleanore" and Shielah, do a little sight seeing, experience some different culture... I was pretty excited, Dad arranged it, I saved up as much money as my Movie Theater job could allow.

During the visit- which was supposed to be 2 weeks- I showed just how I was brought up- in many ways... I spoke a little too freely. I talked to strangers. I wanted to do some things that were in the travel brochures sent to me. I wanted to walk around the city. I slept in. I lifted hay bales without using hay hooks. I had a big butt and didn't seem to care. I chose to dance with strangers when I was taken to a real Mississippi honkey-tonk. I didn’t seem to understand or really care that “VooDoo people” kidnapped young ladies who are unaccompanied in the city and prefer Caucasian blondes. I was rambunctious in their eyes, and to boot, I didn't realize exactly how "Aunt Eleanore" was related to me. I didn't know many of the faces or names she had in her shoebox of family history (and now I'll probably never see that shoebox again). While looking through all the pictures, she asked incredulously, "You mean you don't even know your own people?" I was ashamed to admit I didn't. Dad ever explained it to me. (and neither did Granny)

Now, it wasn't because anyone was trying to hide anything, like in some other families. It was simply because Dad didn't think it was that important. And that's how easy it can be to totally lose one's past. I had to learn some the hard way about how differently things were down South. My 2 week stay barely lasted a week. I left with their blessing, but I was too progressive an 18 year old or something like that, it was bad for Sheilah's heart condition to stress out so. I still don't know the ramifications of that visit. Dad really didn't prepare either of us. That's what it boils down to.

So folks, start out here… Journey with us out of the clutches of ignorance and indifference. Learn your family history, even just to determine for yourself that you don't like Uncle Skeebo after all, and Cousin Minerva is so weird, she's cool. You never know until you look that you might find a really good friend for life who just happens to be related to you, too.