It all started with boxes of photos and a few bits of information. Then came internet searches. The thrill of finding bits of the puzzle began to seep into me. Cousin Anne and I met on-line and then came the phone call when she asked if I was a family historian or a genealogist? Wasn’t it all the same? No. Genealogy requires cold facts, documentation. And while the facts accumulated, the faces and their unknown stories that stare at me from photos or the cold pages of data stored on microfilm continue to draw me to understand and to love them.
There are mysteries and wonders, bravery and pain, joy and sorrow. Unforgettable faces and names for they are me, they are family. I find myself grateful to these who contribute to my life and blood.