I first became interested in genealogy in the 1970s while helping my mother with her research into the family history of both sides of my family. Unfortunately one of my first big contributions was to debunk a cherished family tradition (complete with a much recopied list of alleged connections from an ancient family bible) that dated back before 1600. The access I had to the libraries at the University of Texas gave me evidence that was logically indisputable that the pre-1600 genealogy as presented was insupportable, indeed impossible (although some family members try to cling to it to this day). This taught me a lot about using caution when referencing family traditions and informally documented sources.

My mother still remains my genealogical hero. To this day I am in awe of the careful genealogical work she did in the days before the internet or even computers. She logged many miles and rolls of film visiting cemeteries and county clerks' offices, and many stamps and envelopes corresponding with distant kin and holders of official records. She even discovered that her own marriage license was misdated by three years, which gave me an opportunity to call my elder brother a bastard and which my mother found not at all funny. This was another cautionary tale about relying too much on single sources of even official records.

My genealogical work has been somewhat sporadic over the intervening years, but I love the way it makes history come alive when looking at it through the activities of mostly reg'lar folks. I feel so impressed with the adventures that people undertook, whether traveling long distances with their entire family in a wagon in search of better opportunities, forming new communities in rugged conditions in areas with few of the conveniences of civilization that were available elsewhere in their time, or "just" raising families in conditions that most of us in America today would consider at once tiresome and excessively adventurous. I am particularly impressed by the oft neglected stories of women, for whom the act of bringing forth new generations into the world was an act not only of love but of courage, as the sad tombstones of mothers who died from childbirth so readily reveal.

I am appreciative of the other contributors whose careful memorial creations have enabled me to see the final resting places of my ancestors in far away places that I might never have found. They have also helped provide additional details about some of my family members, and, in a few instances, have given me enough added information to lengthen a root of my family tree by a generation or two. In my creation of memorial records, I strive to be both careful and generous in my attempts to provide facts and links in the hopes that it will help some other persons with their own families.

I first became interested in genealogy in the 1970s while helping my mother with her research into the family history of both sides of my family. Unfortunately one of my first big contributions was to debunk a cherished family tradition (complete with a much recopied list of alleged connections from an ancient family bible) that dated back before 1600. The access I had to the libraries at the University of Texas gave me evidence that was logically indisputable that the pre-1600 genealogy as presented was insupportable, indeed impossible (although some family members try to cling to it to this day). This taught me a lot about using caution when referencing family traditions and informally documented sources.

My mother still remains my genealogical hero. To this day I am in awe of the careful genealogical work she did in the days before the internet or even computers. She logged many miles and rolls of film visiting cemeteries and county clerks' offices, and many stamps and envelopes corresponding with distant kin and holders of official records. She even discovered that her own marriage license was misdated by three years, which gave me an opportunity to call my elder brother a bastard and which my mother found not at all funny. This was another cautionary tale about relying too much on single sources of even official records.

My genealogical work has been somewhat sporadic over the intervening years, but I love the way it makes history come alive when looking at it through the activities of mostly reg'lar folks. I feel so impressed with the adventures that people undertook, whether traveling long distances with their entire family in a wagon in search of better opportunities, forming new communities in rugged conditions in areas with few of the conveniences of civilization that were available elsewhere in their time, or "just" raising families in conditions that most of us in America today would consider at once tiresome and excessively adventurous. I am particularly impressed by the oft neglected stories of women, for whom the act of bringing forth new generations into the world was an act not only of love but of courage, as the sad tombstones of mothers who died from childbirth so readily reveal.

I am appreciative of the other contributors whose careful memorial creations have enabled me to see the final resting places of my ancestors in far away places that I might never have found. They have also helped provide additional details about some of my family members, and, in a few instances, have given me enough added information to lengthen a root of my family tree by a generation or two. In my creation of memorial records, I strive to be both careful and generous in my attempts to provide facts and links in the hopes that it will help some other persons with their own families.