I have a daughter in Lgoogle.com, pub-2115235636283523, DIRECT, f08c47fec0942fa0google.com, pub-2115235636283523, DIRECT, f08c47fec0942fa0aw who knows how to give good gifts. She is such a fantastic gift giver that she will gift you with a present that you didn't even know yourself that you wanted, nor did you know that you needed it. I swear this girl is so good at gifting presents that, if there was a place called gift giving heaven, she would have already achieved nirvana.
I received one of those glorious presents this past summer for my 52 birthday. My youngest son and daughter in law gifted me a membership to Ancestry.com. This very special gift opened up a whole new world for me. With my new ancestry membership in hand, I began a journey of self-discovery that would lead me to some faraway places and bring me into contact with some very interesting characters.
I've always understood that I was a citizen of the good ole USA. I knew where I fit in this North American Continent by country and by state. Beyond that, I knew nothing else of my family line and nothing of my family beyond the state line. I could not comprehend until I was much older that my parents and my grandparents had lived a whole life before my birth. To be honest, we were not the type of family to even discuss our ancestral line with the exception of a few stories about the possibility being related to a particular branch of Native American's and a few suggestions that I might possibly be a descendant from the Mayflower. I truly never believed either story. Until.... Recently.
My interest in the world of genealogy came about quite by accident. I attended a family reunion with my mother in 1982. The reunion was held inside of a little church in OakThorpe, Ohio. We did what any family would do at a reunion. We stuffed our faces with the most delectable delicious food that you could ever imagine. Homegrown watermelon and tomato and cucumber salad. Fried Chicken and tasty desserts. You absolutely can't hold a family reunion, at least, not in our family without , the requisite game of baseball and or in lieu of baseball you might find all of us kids sneaking up to the outhouse, stifling giggles and holding our breath until each child formed a circle around said outhouse in a veiled attempt to tip the whole thing over while poor great Aunt M. was inside. Aunt M. always managed to hear the faintest of giggles from one of the younger more daring of children and would threaten to beat us within an inch of our very life if we stepped any closer to the outside potty.
It was during that specific reunion that I was handed a folder with a drawing of The Mayflower ship on the front and a graph filled with names and dates with people that I was supposed to be descended from handwritten inside. From that moment on I was hooked. While I was never sure about the truth in regards to being a decedent of the pilgrims, I vowed that one day, I would attempt to prove it. Here I am 37 years later and I am finally getting around to proving my lineage. I can say with confidence that I am the several time's great-grandchildren of folks who came to North America via the Mayflower. It is through that research that I was led to find my 7th great grandfather Thiebalt Kline and his country of origin. Germany.
I really don't know very much about my several time's great grandfathers. He is but a leaf on my family tree. There are no pictures of him and I can not find recall ever hearing any kind of heroic tales or secret family stories of this man that I found in my research. He remains a mystery.
Yet today I received a much-welcomed postcard from Wiesbaden Germany. You see a high school friend named Mindy is currently living and working in Germany and she took the time out of her busy schedule to send me a postcard from the very city that my 7th great grandfather was born in. The front of the post card depicts a picture of the Kurhaus in downtown Wiesbaden. A beautiful old building full of history and rich with wealth and wonder. Apparently, Wiesbaden is famous for its luxury spas. I can almost imagine my ancestor walking the streets. of this small historic city. Though the Kurhaus would not be erected until 1907 it's still exciting to hold a picture postcard from a faraway place and a faraway time from the very city, the very spot that my life's tree took root and began to grow.
Oh and did I mention, I am in fact a Mayflower baby? Through the help of Ancestry.com, a few of my mother's cousin's and my paternal aunt and add in a little of my own research and a little DNA test and Viola!. I can with about 98% assurance say that my several time's great-grandparents are William and Mary Brewster of Plymouth Massachusetts, via Scrooby, Nottinghamshire, England. That's a way a crossed the pond for those of us that do not know diddley about geography. Nottinghamshire is, in fact, famous for the tales of Robin Hood. Who knew? it's true. Once I figured out that the tales of my childhood were, in fact, real, they became more than just stories. I started looking for other relatives and came to a crossed old Thiebalt Kline. It turns out that I am a little bit of German. Just a smidge. Primarily I am English and Welsh and a bit Irish and Scottish. I did find a branch of my genealogy that dips into Jamestown Virginia and leads me down the path of Native American heritage. Though it does not pop up in my DNA, my paternal line runs right smack dab into the Native American Community and puts me in close relation to Pocahontas. Her father Chief Powhatan is my 10 times great grandfather. His daughter Princess Mary, younger sister to Pocahontas is my 9th great grandmother. I'm talking 16th century on my father's side. Certainly not close enough to count myself as a Native American but I can connect the dots from my generation to there's.
I have discovered something about my true authentic self. I'm a bonafide mutt. The truest of True blue blood and a little bit red neck West Virginia/Virginian thrown into the mix. My story is just beginning. I hope you stick around for future blogs and for those juicy bits of details concerning my history. a
So how about you? are you ready to discover your lineage? I suggest you start. You only need to ask a few questions about your parents and grandparents. Hop on to the internet and within a few clicks you can find out for yourself who you really are. Maybe you too can discover your authentic self. I cannot wait to see where all these little limbs on my family tree route to. I'm sure if I shake my family tree hard enough, I'll find a few nuts along the way. At least I hope I find a few nuts. Life is to short to be plain and normal. Until next time Gute Nacht. That's a good night in German. I had to Google that. 😂
I received one of those glorious presents this past summer for my 52 birthday. My youngest son and daughter in law gifted me a membership to Ancestry.com. This very special gift opened up a whole new world for me. With my new ancestry membership in hand, I began a journey of self-discovery that would lead me to some faraway places and bring me into contact with some very interesting characters.
I've always understood that I was a citizen of the good ole USA. I knew where I fit in this North American Continent by country and by state. Beyond that, I knew nothing else of my family line and nothing of my family beyond the state line. I could not comprehend until I was much older that my parents and my grandparents had lived a whole life before my birth. To be honest, we were not the type of family to even discuss our ancestral line with the exception of a few stories about the possibility being related to a particular branch of Native American's and a few suggestions that I might possibly be a descendant from the Mayflower. I truly never believed either story. Until.... Recently.
My interest in the world of genealogy came about quite by accident. I attended a family reunion with my mother in 1982. The reunion was held inside of a little church in OakThorpe, Ohio. We did what any family would do at a reunion. We stuffed our faces with the most delectable delicious food that you could ever imagine. Homegrown watermelon and tomato and cucumber salad. Fried Chicken and tasty desserts. You absolutely can't hold a family reunion, at least, not in our family without , the requisite game of baseball and or in lieu of baseball you might find all of us kids sneaking up to the outhouse, stifling giggles and holding our breath until each child formed a circle around said outhouse in a veiled attempt to tip the whole thing over while poor great Aunt M. was inside. Aunt M. always managed to hear the faintest of giggles from one of the younger more daring of children and would threaten to beat us within an inch of our very life if we stepped any closer to the outside potty.
It was during that specific reunion that I was handed a folder with a drawing of The Mayflower ship on the front and a graph filled with names and dates with people that I was supposed to be descended from handwritten inside. From that moment on I was hooked. While I was never sure about the truth in regards to being a decedent of the pilgrims, I vowed that one day, I would attempt to prove it. Here I am 37 years later and I am finally getting around to proving my lineage. I can say with confidence that I am the several time's great-grandchildren of folks who came to North America via the Mayflower. It is through that research that I was led to find my 7th great grandfather Thiebalt Kline and his country of origin. Germany.
I really don't know very much about my several time's great grandfathers. He is but a leaf on my family tree. There are no pictures of him and I can not find recall ever hearing any kind of heroic tales or secret family stories of this man that I found in my research. He remains a mystery.
Yet today I received a much-welcomed postcard from Wiesbaden Germany. You see a high school friend named Mindy is currently living and working in Germany and she took the time out of her busy schedule to send me a postcard from the very city that my 7th great grandfather was born in. The front of the post card depicts a picture of the Kurhaus in downtown Wiesbaden. A beautiful old building full of history and rich with wealth and wonder. Apparently, Wiesbaden is famous for its luxury spas. I can almost imagine my ancestor walking the streets. of this small historic city. Though the Kurhaus would not be erected until 1907 it's still exciting to hold a picture postcard from a faraway place and a faraway time from the very city, the very spot that my life's tree took root and began to grow.
Oh and did I mention, I am in fact a Mayflower baby? Through the help of Ancestry.com, a few of my mother's cousin's and my paternal aunt and add in a little of my own research and a little DNA test and Viola!. I can with about 98% assurance say that my several time's great-grandparents are William and Mary Brewster of Plymouth Massachusetts, via Scrooby, Nottinghamshire, England. That's a way a crossed the pond for those of us that do not know diddley about geography. Nottinghamshire is, in fact, famous for the tales of Robin Hood. Who knew? it's true. Once I figured out that the tales of my childhood were, in fact, real, they became more than just stories. I started looking for other relatives and came to a crossed old Thiebalt Kline. It turns out that I am a little bit of German. Just a smidge. Primarily I am English and Welsh and a bit Irish and Scottish. I did find a branch of my genealogy that dips into Jamestown Virginia and leads me down the path of Native American heritage. Though it does not pop up in my DNA, my paternal line runs right smack dab into the Native American Community and puts me in close relation to Pocahontas. Her father Chief Powhatan is my 10 times great grandfather. His daughter Princess Mary, younger sister to Pocahontas is my 9th great grandmother. I'm talking 16th century on my father's side. Certainly not close enough to count myself as a Native American but I can connect the dots from my generation to there's.
I have discovered something about my true authentic self. I'm a bonafide mutt. The truest of True blue blood and a little bit red neck West Virginia/Virginian thrown into the mix. My story is just beginning. I hope you stick around for future blogs and for those juicy bits of details concerning my history. a
So how about you? are you ready to discover your lineage? I suggest you start. You only need to ask a few questions about your parents and grandparents. Hop on to the internet and within a few clicks you can find out for yourself who you really are. Maybe you too can discover your authentic self. I cannot wait to see where all these little limbs on my family tree route to. I'm sure if I shake my family tree hard enough, I'll find a few nuts along the way. At least I hope I find a few nuts. Life is to short to be plain and normal. Until next time Gute Nacht. That's a good night in German. I had to Google that. 😂
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