"Light within all living beings," by Stefan Perneborg via Flickr; free to use. I bow to the light within you: namaste.  Before traveling to India to speak at a student conference a few years ago, I became aware of the Indian customary greeting, and what it meant. An Indian friend said, well, we don't think about the full meaning, it is just a respectful hello. However, while in India I felt deeply welcomed and respected by each person I met; many of them offering gifts upon meeting me. I treasure those gifts and the way each person made me feel.  I try to treat people like that, and life is generally better when I do. Over the past year, I've been trying to clean up my Ancestry tree, and since mulling over this practice of namaste, to see what "beginner me" was trying to accomplish years ago. I made lots of mistakes, but the repair project has taught me so much.  However,  I'm still struggling to honor the light within some of my ancestors and their re...

Vecteezy--"Night Starry Sky and Pink Clouds Sunrise" "Land, give me land, under starry skies above," "Don't Fence Me In" You probably recognize these words penned in a 1934 text by Robert Fletcher, a poet and engineer with the Department of Highways in Helena, Montana.  When Cole Porter was asked to write a "cowboy" song, he used the text and "Don't Fence Me In" quickly became the #1 song in 1944.  It was recorded by Bing Crosby and the Andrews Sisters, by Kate Smith, and Roy Rogers used it in at least two movies. While the text and song may have been 1930s/1940s era and still popular today, the sentiment was anything but new.  The cry of "give me land!" has been heard in every corner of the United States since its birth in 1783.  "Give me land!" has been uttered in the language of every immigrant who ever set foot on our shores. The "don't fence me in" spirit was evident from the very beginning...

Before heading to the grocery store, I need to make a list, so I don't forget to pick up something we need, or worse, buy things we don't! I hate waste and overcrowding the 'fridge. It is even more important to plan both my schedule and my genealogy.  I learned how helpful this was some years ago, when we studied Research Like A Pro : A Genealogist’s Guide by  Diana Elder, AG with Nicole Dyer .  Thinking about my questions and goals before diving in, and carefully reviewing everything I know (or think I do) is critical to progress and eventual success. The GPS, Genealogical Proof Standard , was created to help us in our work, because building on a solid foundation helps us have confidence in our findings and enjoy the journey. I find planning more parts of my life helps me have more time for research too. I use Google calendar, but whatever tools you like will work, as long as you use them as a part of your daily routine.  So what's my latest plan? I just started on...

  Oroboros, free image courtesy of Magnific.com Oroboros, or: Haven't I been here before? The value and danger of digging into FAN club members who are part of an "allied family" and part of the pioneer generation of settlers, is finding the same names over and over. Sisters marry brothers, people marry spouses of their same surname or their mother's surname, and occasionally first or second cousins. I  became dizzy as the tree filled. I imagine the snake in the ancient symbol above is feeling woozy too. F amily, Friends,  A ssociates & N eighbors sometimes play all three roles in the early generations and rural locations. Lately, my first action when looking at a census record is to open the index and scan the neighbors, before looking at the person and their family in the image. When I've researched more deeply into their history, another look at the index reveals even more, as future spouses lurk nearby.  Moving back to an earlier generation reveals more ...

Back in the late 80’s when I was first starting to do family history, I had a burial mystery that I couldn’t figure out. It began start with my parents, then grandparents. Nothing seemed right with my maternal grandmother’s burial, and I had a mystery around my maternal grandfather’s death, as he seemed to have died young, and I didn’t know how, and nobody talked about it. I found out that he had committed suicide, which was why nobody talked about it, but why had he done it? At the time I didn’t realize how they tied together. This is the story of the death and burial of my maternal grandparents, William and Augusta ‘Gusty’ Westphal. By early 1932 Augusta had been having health problems for about year and had an operation for gall bladder and appendicitis, but did not to survive the operation. Shortly after, on Saturday, March 26, 1932, she passed away at the age of 51 years, 1 month and 17 days. She would be buried three days later on March 29 at Saint Paul's Lutheran Church Ceme...