In Search of Family
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We are the chosen. In each family there is one who seems called to find
the ancestors. To put flesh on their bones and make them live again. To
tell the family story and to feel that somehow they know and approve. Doing
genealogy is not a cold gathering of facts but, instead, breathing life
into all who have gone before. We are the story tellers of the tribe. All
tribes have one. We have been called, as it were, by our genes. Those who
have gone before cry out to us: Tell our story. So, we do. In finding them,
we somehow find ourselves. How many graves have I stood before now and cried?
I have lost count. How many times have I told the ancestors, "You have a
wonderful family; you would be proud of us.". How many times have I walked
up to a grave and felt somehow there was love there for me? I cannot say.
It goes beyond just documenting facts. It goes to who I am, and why I do
the things I do.
It goes to
seeing a cemetery about to be lost forever to weeds and indifference and
saying - I can't let this happen. The bones here are bones of my bone and
flesh of my flesh. It goes to doing something about it. It goes to pride
in what our ancestors were able to accomplish. How they contributed to what
we are today. It goes to respecting their hardships and losses, their never
giving in or giving up, their resoluteness to go on and build a life for
their family. It goes to deep pride that the fathers fought and some died
to make and keep us a nation. It goes to a deep and immense understanding
that they were doing it for us. It is of equal pride and love that our mothers
struggled to give us birth, without them we could not exist, and so we love
each one, as far back as we can reach. That we might be born who we are.
That we might remember them. So we do. With love and caring and scribing
each fact of their existence, because we are they and they are the sum of
who we are. So, as a scribe called, I tell the story of my family. It is
up to that one called in the next generation to answer the call and take
my place in the long line of family storytellers. That is why I do my family
genealogy, and that is what calls those young and old to step up and restore
the memory or greet those who we had never known before."
by Della M. Cummings Wright; Rewritten by her granddaughter Dell Jo Ann McGinnis Johnson; Edited and Reworded by Tom Dunn, 1943."
Herman Frederick is the father of "Bob" Frederick. "Bob" was adopted by his mother's new husband when he was approximately six years old.
"Georgie" is the grandfather of Rob Billy Bod His parents were Reuben Valley and Sarah Bea Trane.
Ramilla Ford is the daughter of James Ford and Susan Snow. She is the wife of Robert "Bobbie" Smith.
Lillian is the daughter of Robert P. and Velma. She has a brother.
Martha was the daughter of James A. Shall, Sr. and Martha Ann Mariah Shall. She was born in 1849 in Tennessee. She married Billy Bob.
Claire Grace was the wife of Martin Savoy. She is the daughter of Ursin Grace.
Martin and Martha Smith married in 1936 in Louisiana. They had eight children.
If you have questions or problems with this site, email the Coordinator. Please to not ask for specfic research on your family.
