I first got interested in family history when, as a grammar school kid out for summer and in between chores, I would spend time with a great uncle on his front porch swing. He would keep me enticed with tales and stories of our family members as he remembered. This went on for several summers, almost on a daily schedule. He had a disabling heart attack when he was 52 (in 1949) and I was his company, as was he mine. Another younger great uncle kept the spark going as I married and started a family of my own. He spoke of their same family, but from a different prospective. They both had a sense of history and instilled that in me. Wish I could turn the clock back sometimes, there are so many questions that I did not ask them at the time; and they had a front row seat.

I first got interested in family history when, as a grammar school kid out for summer and in between chores, I would spend time with a great uncle on his front porch swing. He would keep me enticed with tales and stories of our family members as he remembered. This went on for several summers, almost on a daily schedule. He had a disabling heart attack when he was 52 (in 1949) and I was his company, as was he mine. Another younger great uncle kept the spark going as I married and started a family of my own. He spoke of their same family, but from a different prospective. They both had a sense of history and instilled that in me. Wish I could turn the clock back sometimes, there are so many questions that I did not ask them at the time; and they had a front row seat.