Walking in Their Footsteps?
Visiting the homeland? Climbing the same mountain Grandpa did? Tell us how you spent–or how you’re spending–your summer vacation, ancestor-style.
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Visiting the homeland? Climbing the same mountain Grandpa did? Tell us how you spent–or how you’re spending–your summer vacation, ancestor-style.
Email This Post
This past summer, my wife and I went to Lambton County, Ontario, where my GGG-Grandfather, Jesse Kenward, and his family settled about 1833. They took up residence on a 200 acre portion of the 300 arcres he received from the Crown for serving “23 and three twelfths years in His Majesty’s Kent militia”
With assistance from the very helpful staff of the “Lambton Room” at the library in Wyoming, Ontario, we were able to locate those land transactions and their exact location outside of the town of Warwick, Ontario.
What a GREAT feeling to be able to stand on and look over the land once owned by my GGG-Grandfather, knowing the tremendous effort he and his family had put into clearing and cultivating it to produce what they needed to survive and prosper.
In the surrounding communities and country church cemeteries, we were able to locate the grave sites of a son and a daughter, but not those of Jesse nor his wife, Elizabeth. We suspect that they may have been buried on their homestead site of which, I’m certain, they were justifiably proud.
Robert N. Kenward
When my husband and I visited Pennsylvania we knew his Morgan family came from there, but didn’t yet know their exact location. While searching for a motel one evening we passed a small sign in Gwynedd, PA reading “Morgan Log Cabin” with an arrow off to the right. I said, “Wouldn’t it be funny if that was your Morgan family?” He scoffed at my idea that we could just “happen” to drive by his ancestors.
The next morning we drove to the Morgan Log Cabin and discovered the Morgan Log Cabin Museum, built circa 1695. It was closed and entertaining a group of children at a history day camp. One of the directors told us we wouldn’t be able to go in without an appointment (to be made 2 weeks ahead of time). When I pleaded that my husband was a descendant, and we would only be in the area one day and that we were from the West Coast, she told us we could walk around the outside, photograph, and peek in the windows all we wanted, but would not be able enter since all the docents were busy with the camp.
We made the most of the chance to “hang around” so spent about 20 minutes walking the property and photographing from every angle. Finaly, one docent offered to stay late and give us a tour if we were willing to wait another half-hour until the camp ended. Willing?! We jumped at the chance and spent the next half-hour soaking up the atmosphere.
She graciously made good her promise and led us on a tour of the inside of the cabin which confirmed my suspicions, it had been the home of my husband’s 8X great grandfather, Edward Morgan.
On our first genealogy vacation, my sister and I drove to Martinez, CA armed with a letter from 1891 written to our 2X great grandmother Janet Borland Craig, which mentioned that our 3X great grandmother, Jean Howatt Borland, was visiting her son in Martinez. Our plan was to go to the court house and see if we could find a death record for Jean since we hadn’t been able to find one.
Pulling into the court house parking lot, I noticed the Martinez Historical Museum in a quaint, Victorian home next to the parking lot, so decided to check out the museum hours on a sign on the front door. My mouth dropped open at the sight of the “Robert Borland Home” plaque near the door. Robert was Jean’s son and our great, great granduncle!
The cherry on the ice cream occurred upon entering the museum when we told the docent that we were the great, great grandnieces of Robert Borland. She blinked at us and said, “Well, we have your family Blible.” There, open on a stand, was our Gr. Gr. Gr. Grandparents’ family Bible listing all our ancestors from the time of their marriage in Scotland, and including the story of their immigration to Nova Scotia in 1848. The ancestral pages were kept up to date right up to the death of Robert Borland in the early 1930’s!
I offered a half-million dollars if we could take the Bible, which of course, I didn’t have and which the museum wasn’t interested in [they must be well-endowed!]. However, they did allow us to photocopy the ancestral pages and since that time have included our family research in the museum holdings.
This one serendipitous stop on our vacation opened up the rest of the vacation to us; leading us to many more Borland findings in the gold-mining areas of Auburn and Placerville, CA and on to Reno and Lovelock, NV.
My father was an avid fisherman all his life and it was a sport in which he excelled far and above the average. I believe he was always happiest with a rod and reel in his hands. When my wife,our son and his family,and I visited the tiny village(Strazek, Bystrice, Jihlava Co., Cxech Republic)from which my father’s grandfather, Frantisek Polak, had emigrated in the mid-19th century, we could not speak Czech and we had no idea what we find. We went to the general store and, with the help of another visitor who spoke a little English, German, and a little Czech; my son who could speak a little Czech; and my wife who could speak a little German; and the local mail carrier who spoke Cxech, we were able to find the house in which Frantisek had lived. As we waited for our knock to be answered, we turned to look at the stream flowing right in front of the house and there, just a few yards down the way, stood a man in waders in the middle of the stream fly-casting. No wonder Dad loved to fish!
Last summer, two friends and I visited Ireland. It was going to be the trip of a lifetime for me, as we would be walking up the Knocknagalty mountainside in Co. Limerick to visit the ruins of the old homestead where my Bailey family once lived. We picked up our guide and drove to the foot of the mountain, passing Galtee and Mountain Lodges along the way. These were places I’d read about in reference to the Kingston and Buckley estates where my great-grandfather had been a caretaker. As we parked the car and prepared for the trek up the mountain, I was filled with excitement and exhilaration. The track up was rutted, narrow and stony, and I couldn’t help but think that I was now walking in ‘their’ footsteps. After a few stops to catch our breath, we reached the ruins. There was nothing left of the two-room house except stone walls about 3 ft. high and the remains of a fireplace and two doors. I wondered how such a large family (12 children) could have survived in such a small house. With my camera clicking furiously, I took pictures of everything surrounding me. As we left the area and headed down the mountain, we got caught in a torrential downpour, but I didn’t mind one bit; I had fulfilled a dream!
After having researched my husband’s Wemyss (Weems) Scots immigrants without a whole lot of luck, I accidently ran across the right branch of the family in 2003. We always visit Tennesee in the fall each year, visiting his family and doing general genealogy research After having found the information about his Weems people, we decided to take the trek they took after coming from Scotland about 1703. THey landed in Philadelphia, ten lived for a while in Bucks County, PA. They left there, probably due to Indian troubles, about 1754 and moved down into Delaware. From there they moved to Augusta County, VA. Again, we believe they left there due to Indian troubles about 1770, moving on to the Abbeville District of South Carolina where the family probably stayed until about 1820-40, them moving on to Georgia, and eventually, my husband’s branch of the family settled in Western Tennessee on the Tennessee River.
On our trip in 2003, we did visit all the places they had lived and the idea of the moves they had made were awesom. The idea of having moved around that much was astounding to us. We also had many pleasent surprises along the way. We got in touch with other members of the family, some of which were still in the same area. From these contacts we got further infrmation about the family and did visit some of the places they had settled, along with some cemeteries.
We found that one of his ancestors fought the Rebolutionary Battle of Old Ninety-Seven and then the Battle of Cowpins. We visited both places and could almost see the battles.
My journey with both his and my ancestors has been a very interesting and rewarding one — I can almost see these people and feel very connected to them. I have researched my ancestors and have found much the same as from his — they came from the approximate same areas to the approximate same areas bout the same time. It almost feels as though we have always been part of the same life.
The remaining thing we plan to do is go to Scotland and see just where they all came from.
I left Scotland in 1951 at the age of 7 with my parents and 2 brothers. I had not returned until last year - 55 years later. It was truly amazing. When we got off the train everything from my childhood came back to me in a big flash. I told my wife when we reach the top of the steps the church I attended should be to the right, across the street was Lorne St. where I had lived and down the street to the left was where the ice cream shop was that we often visited for our cone and it was still there and operated by the great grandchildren of the man who ran it when I was I child. It was really strange seeing all the places I had been away from all these years. We made a trip by train then to Burntisland where my great grandmother had lived. I had the address and pictures of the old home and sure enough there it was exactly as the pictures had shown - nothing changed. We went to the Highlands, Edinburgh and so many other places and when on a trip like this time just flies past and it is time to return home. There are so many other places I want to see and we are hoping to be able to make a return trip in the near future. I want to visit the cemeteries where my family members are buried, and the old school I attended. I could go on and on. My only regret is I did not go “home” sooner but it was great to have the memories and see things still in place.
After my father’s last brother passed away, I received a hand written genealogy which ended abot 1945 before my birth. After first putting it into an excel spreadsheet, I started to work thit Family Tree Maker. I have taken the original 500 names and expanded to close to 9000 names in my family tree. I am a ninth great grandson of James Jackman who came to Newburyport, MA in 16350. A couple of years ago I and my wife had the opportunity to go to Newbury and see the statue bearing his name along with the others who were on board. It was quite a treat and a rewarding journey.
I am currently on a four month trip visiting the places my ansestors came from researching in 6 countries. So far I have done research in England, Poland, and Germany. My next stop is Austria, then back to England, Scotland and Ireland. So far I have rung the church bells in the church my 3rd great grandparents where married. Stood on the properties where my 4th, 5th and further back great granparents lived and died. I have traveled to the villages in Poland that where once a part of Germany before WW II where my anscestors lived in the 1850’s. I have been to villages in Germany where many generations lived. I have added anywhere from 5 to 8 generations to the family tree. I can’t begin to explin the impact this trip is having on me. Not only have I gained an understanding of my ancestors as well as discovered the origins of family lore I have also gained an understanding of my self in this journey. It truley is a trip of a lifetime and I have 2 more months to go!
I enjoyed reading these. I have been doing my family ancestry for just three years and enjoying it more every day.
For 20 years I had managed to keep notes on family history from my mother’s distant cousin. One summer I went to Sackets Harbor, NY. Our cousin had drawn a small map of the town and noted where our common Luff ancestors had immigrated in 1805 and where some were buried in the cemetery. During my visit I met Charles Wardwell, whose parents had bought the Luff farm at the end of the 19th c. He had grown up going to that farm during summers and had retired in Sackets Harbor.
Charles gave me a “Luff tour” of the town, as he had researched the history. Included was a visit to our family house, a stone farmhouse with walls about one foot thick, built about 1814, with more rooms, a veranda, and second story added at the end of the century. From the front windows you could see Lake Ontario.
It was the first time I had been in a distant ancestor’s house. Since I’d never seen where my parents or grandparents had lived, it was a powerful experience. This was the house of my 3xgreat-grandparents. Suddenly their distant past was much closer.
I also got to see the first meetinghouse in town, which his Joseph’s older brother Edmund had built in 1805. In the cemetery were tombstones with ancestral family names: Luffs, Fitzpatrick and Damuths. They were markers for people and a past that was alive.
As the world shrinks through the internet, there is still nothing like the feeling of actually setting foot in an ancestor’s home. Finding that home can be challenging.
From a box of memorabilia my ggrandfather had collected and left behind I retrieved a photo labeled “home where I was born, Castana, Iowa” -1949- My ggrandmother Lucy was born in 1895. They had visited this home in 1949 and took the picture. I sent this photo in an email to the only 2 business in town that had a website. I received a reply from the bed and breakfast owner who was able to track down the house and sent me the address and current owner. “Looks like we are going to Iowa” was my husband’s comment.
Our first Family History Tour was a road trip to Iowa and many points beyond. We got to tour through Lucy’s childhood home. The farm next door proved to be where her grandparent’s Laura and Joseph had lived, so there where 3 generations of history in this one place.
As valuable as the internet research is, nothing can replace the feeling of actually walking in their footsteps.
My father was born in Fahaduff, Castleisland, Co. Kerry, Ireland. As I was growing up, he told me many stories of my grandparents and his eight brothers and six sisters and what their life was like during the early part of the century in their little cottage up on the mountain. I couldn’t wait to go “home” to that place. Finally, in 1961, when I was 21, the day arrived when I boarded a plane at Logan Airport in Boston - the happiest and most exciting day in my life. I arrived at Shannon, rented a car, got a map and found my way down to Kerry. When I turned onto the Main St. in Castleisland, I recognized so many things - my Dad had described everything so perfectly.
I found my Uncle Jack, the only one still alive in Ireland. He brought me up the mountain to Fahaduff. I was home. The house was still standing at that time. (It has since fallen down.) I stood inside the kitchen where my grandmother cooked and took care of her large family and could feel the presence of this strong woman who watched so many of her children have to leave home and find lives in other countries - seven to America and one to Australia. I felt also the presence of my gentle grandfather who was so loved by all his children.
And although their 21 American and Australian grandchildren never met them, I was able to stand there and say, “Hello Nan and Da, it’s Maureen and I’ve come back home.”
I made sure my children went back often and knew their Irish cousins as they grew up. Two years ago, my three grandchildren flew to Ireland and met me there. They also now know where their roots are.
I hope my family will always be able to return to their ancestral homeplace and never lose the feeling of belonging to Ireland.
I would love to hear any more details or see pictures of your visit to the Morgan Log House. He is my 8th gr-grandfather as well through his son John Morgan.
Thanks! Judy