I have been interested in genealogy since I was a child, and general history more as I age. The thrill of finding a gem of information during research is akin to finding an old coin or scrap of paper with curly script. I was raised with the telling of stories, and the family's history was fairly well-known at least in the basics. Some of this oral knowledge will be connected to source documents, with great joy, but some will remain uncorroborated. My grandmother passed in November of 2019, and a deep dive through the years of possessions she and my grandfather had become stewards for (they were continuous occupants of their home since 1967 and it had the room!) meant that there were tangible items to connect. The time was now, during the pandemic, to follow a passion and begin to share it. Now that the items have been distributed among her children or simply cleared away, I wanted to act before any more knowledge was cleared away as well.
I have benefited from the research and information shared by others, including by personal websites, including one I discovered in college and can no longer find, by Linda Workman Hansen. She has passed, so perhaps the domain is no longer being maintained. However I'm under no illusion that this information will be anything other than interesting unless you share my interest for tidbits from another time, local history, or are perhaps related to me. When we were cleaning out my grandmother's house, an aunt told me that my grandfather loved old things, and sometimes bought things like books just because they were old. I thought--perhaps this is where I get it. Perhaps you enjoy old things as well.
The title of this blog is a reference to a poem, and the fact that I grew up in Western Washington between the Olympic and Cascade ranges. Much of our recent family history takes place in Washington, though it is not confined here. Also it is a nod to the influence of the outdoors on my family and myself.
No comments:
Post a Comment