Thursday, February 27, 2020

Where did I come from?





























I am hardly keeping awake as I type this.  I wanted to come here with a funny story but frankly I have to curtail that as I struggle to string two coherent thoughts together.

At that point I crashed.  It is now Thursday and I am still zonked; back to bed again.

Actually, my families were Scotch-Irish.  I did a lot of genealogy before N died, mostly at the West Virginia Collection in the WV University library.  I would often get distracted by stories or history of days gone by, but found some relevant facts I needed along the way.  Also a lot of insight into other times.  As an example I was looking for the parents of my grandfather in Ohio and family history said his mother was Riggleman, found on his death certificate.  But looking harder, Riggleman was not her birth name; my grandfather was named for his mother's maiden name, because he was (a bastard) illegitimate  and his stepfather, after his mother  married 4 or 5 years later than his birth, was Riggleman.  When my grandmother (Nana) had my father, her husband (my grandfather) stayed only long enough to get Dad's legitimate name on the birth certificate, and then divorced.  Nana was incensed and destroyed every photo and everything carrying his name. Nana even changed Dad's first name to the first name of her father, rather than the one picked by his father.  My dad only met his father once, after WW II, and he had no interest in carrying on any contact with Dad.  Eventually Nana remarried, but that ended divorce also.  I never heard her say anything about either husband, just "Oh, that was a long time ago..."  She had a daughter by her second husband, but she died at age 5.  My dad said he didn't remember his half-sister, but he was 13 when she died so he must have just blown me off when I asked.  Anyway, that is an example of the genealogy I searched for, and not just A married B and had C with only the bare dates recorded.

I got a photo of Dad's sister and my sister was the spitting image of her as a toddler; which explains, all these years later, why Nana favored my sister and not me as well, (her only grandchildren) who looked like my mother.







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