Tracing your roots

They say that the average American knows nothing about his or her great-grandparents. I think that’s sad. I find the life stories of my ancestors with their decisions, mistakes, and achievements (of which my own are so frequently an unknowing echo) fascinating. I’m proud of my ancestors (although some were pretty disreputable by most conventional standards).
Tracing your genealogy can be tough. I’ve traced one line (the paternal) back at least 12 generations. That’s pretty rare except among the nobility (which we weren’t) but I had a leg up: Switzerland. My father’s family is Swiss and, since Switzerland hasn’t known war in well over 500 years, records tend to be preserved (they’re also preserved because that’s the way Switzers are) and my Swiss cousin Ansgar is a priest and genealogy buff. That’s a good combination because the Church was the record keeper and his status opens doors that might be closed to a layman.

Others of my lines have been tougher. I’ve been trying to trace my mother’s paternal line but have been stuck around 1825 for quite a while. I’ve been stalled in tracing my maternal grandfather’s maternal line prior to 1850.

My family has several peculiar qualities (no surprise). Example: no farmers. No matter how far back you go there are no farmers in my family. To understand why that’s unusual consider that in the 1900 U. S. federal census 90% of all adult males listed their occupations as “farmer”.

Shay has traced her family back to 1821. That’s a really impressive achievement: African American geneaology is very difficult. Records were bad, much of what was known was lost in the diaspora from the Deep South, frequently there are no photos or written records. Even family bibles are rare.

Your ancestors are worthy of consideration: after all, if they hadn’t lived you wouldn’t be here. A good place to start tracing your own genealogy is asking an older relative. Sometimes its amazing what they do (or don’t) know.