I was recently asked to make a presentation about journal writing at a genealogy conference.
This got me thinking about my own genealogy, which reminded me of a saying of a famous politician.
He said there was no reason to go to the work of doing your own genealogy.
You could just run for political office and then those who were opposed to you would do it for you.
However I have, at times, found interesting stories in my own ancestral past.
I noted one recently about a great uncle and a great aunt.
If it hadn't been for the guilt two young men felt for what they knew was an undeserved gift from my great aunt, the story probably would have remained untold.
For anonymity I will refer to my great aunt and great uncle as Aunt Hazel and Uncle Hickory, because some might say they were nutty.
However, Uncle Hickory and Aunt Hazel were good, down-to-earth people that everyone loved.
Uncle Hickory did have one well-known bad habit; he drank too much.
In fact, he was fondly known as the town drunk.
Everyone knew of his habit and, for the most part, tended to overlook it, due to Uncle Hickory's pleasant nature.
As one story goes, an early snowstorm struck the area the first week of October.
(Imagine that here in Idaho!) Anyway, two young men, who had been up country hunting, were fighting their way home through the blizzard, only to find Uncle Hickory lying snookered beside the road.
Knowing they couldn't leave him there, they tossed him into the back seat of their Model-T.
Since those old cars were light, they slid all over the road and eventually landed in a ditch.
Although the car was light, it was too heavy for one person to push out while one drove, and Uncle Hickory was too soused to be roused.
The young men could get no traction and there was nothing in the great white expanse that could be used to give the tires the grip they needed.
Finally, thinking they all would die if they didn't do something, they struck on an idea.
They pulled Uncle Hickory out of the back seat and stuffed him under the tire.
With the extra grab and one pushing and one driving, the car inched its way back up onto the road.
Once they were finally into safe territory, and the tire had passed clear over Uncle Hickory, they carefully brushed him off and tossed him back into his seat again.
Then they much more carefully headed on their way.
The young men took Uncle Hickory home and delivered him to Aunt Hazel, who put him to bed.
The next day the young men received a wonderful, home-made pie with a note from Aunt Hazel.
It said, "Thanks so much for giving my husband a ride home.
I'm sure he would have never made it on his own.
He was so stiff and sore the next morning that he couldn't even walk.
"
This got me thinking about my own genealogy, which reminded me of a saying of a famous politician.
He said there was no reason to go to the work of doing your own genealogy.
You could just run for political office and then those who were opposed to you would do it for you.
However I have, at times, found interesting stories in my own ancestral past.
I noted one recently about a great uncle and a great aunt.
If it hadn't been for the guilt two young men felt for what they knew was an undeserved gift from my great aunt, the story probably would have remained untold.
For anonymity I will refer to my great aunt and great uncle as Aunt Hazel and Uncle Hickory, because some might say they were nutty.
However, Uncle Hickory and Aunt Hazel were good, down-to-earth people that everyone loved.
Uncle Hickory did have one well-known bad habit; he drank too much.
In fact, he was fondly known as the town drunk.
Everyone knew of his habit and, for the most part, tended to overlook it, due to Uncle Hickory's pleasant nature.
As one story goes, an early snowstorm struck the area the first week of October.
(Imagine that here in Idaho!) Anyway, two young men, who had been up country hunting, were fighting their way home through the blizzard, only to find Uncle Hickory lying snookered beside the road.
Knowing they couldn't leave him there, they tossed him into the back seat of their Model-T.
Since those old cars were light, they slid all over the road and eventually landed in a ditch.
Although the car was light, it was too heavy for one person to push out while one drove, and Uncle Hickory was too soused to be roused.
The young men could get no traction and there was nothing in the great white expanse that could be used to give the tires the grip they needed.
Finally, thinking they all would die if they didn't do something, they struck on an idea.
They pulled Uncle Hickory out of the back seat and stuffed him under the tire.
With the extra grab and one pushing and one driving, the car inched its way back up onto the road.
Once they were finally into safe territory, and the tire had passed clear over Uncle Hickory, they carefully brushed him off and tossed him back into his seat again.
Then they much more carefully headed on their way.
The young men took Uncle Hickory home and delivered him to Aunt Hazel, who put him to bed.
The next day the young men received a wonderful, home-made pie with a note from Aunt Hazel.
It said, "Thanks so much for giving my husband a ride home.
I'm sure he would have never made it on his own.
He was so stiff and sore the next morning that he couldn't even walk.
"