Should Someone Ask You

Should someone ask you, “Who are you? Who are your parents, your grandparents, your great-grandparents?” Would you answer, “What’s in a name anyway? Is your name important to you? Did you ever struggle with your identity or search for your ancestors?”

Alesia at home in the photo taken 2021

Let me answer that your name makes you special, different from anyone else. It is our most important, unique identity which separate us from the crowd. The ancient of books declares every creature has an identity, even mankind. Where in our family tree could we be found generations yet to be, were it not for a name?

How unique we are, to pass on with not only our name, but parts of our personalities, idiosyncrasies and alas heritage. So shall we not expand our imaginations as we unfold our majestic closet of skeletons, or rather a colorful fantasy of generations.

We are all called to do something special in our lives and with our lives, something that no one else can do in quite the same way. People research their family trees for many reasons. Some are just curious, others have a deep interest in history; many trace there genealogy as a leisure hobby; but this research has expanded beyond fairytales of whom many were told a cover up story.

Should someone ask you who you are now after a DNA test, what would you say if you found out you are not who you were told for over a half century? As a huge history buff, looking back at Napoleonic times, we know he divided and conquered. Much upheaval occurred in those historical days and if he needed to make a kingdom, change names, and create order as he saw it, that is exactly what he would do. One such example he had power in his time was the Knightly Order. This potential to change peoples’ titles or names was something you would think only the kings of yesteryear could do, but in fact it is something that has been done since the beginning of time.

Who I am was chosen for me. It brought good along with rewards and regret of which I can not change. As it were, my vivid imagination allows me to peek in the window of the past to see what it may reveal of family I never knew. In today’s terms, ghost kingdom comes to mind thanks to the top series This Is Us.

So please indulge me as I describe my kingdom for a moment to you:

I dreamt I saw a huge gate where my unknown family was waiting for me. The only problem was the gate was on a high rocky plain that I would need to scale. So there I went climbing up with every ounce of strength I can muster. Getting to the gate and peering through grand window, I saw through. The spaces in front of me were of vast gardens waiting to be explored. I could also see multiple zig zags of trails to a majestic landscape where flowers were blooming as far as my eyes could see.

Stop. Reality Check.

I sat down before I really looked through the gate. I was not sure what the view was going to be. I realized I had a magical spell of my own doing placed on me and my imagination could take me anywhere.

Should someone ask you if you will go through that door, what would your answer be? Where do you find your satisfaction? Is it finding a prince in a kingdom in a beautiful garden or a man in prison looking downward in despair?

So many questions. Some answered . Some with no answer. If you do not mind me giving you a little advise before entering your Ghost Kingdom, think about changing your eye glass prescription. The view may look so much clearer, although that is if you have a good eye doctor.

To learn more about Alesia’s work in the field of knowing your genetic identity, mental health, and education please go to www.righttoknow.us and feel free to write her there if you need a referral or assistance in your own search for truth.

www.righttoknow..us

Someone Asked Me

My friend Kara and I went to Olympia our state capital to meet with our senators and representatives. What a great experience.

Someone asked me, “What is your idea of a dream life?” Without restraint, I answered.

“It begins with trusting your gut to know when it is time to stand up and be a part of something bigger than yourself.  It is when you know you have met an ideal that finally satisfies you’re very being. It is digging deep in yourself and pulling out the silent parts.”

Dirt’s Secrets

*This post is not possible without the assistance of Justin Stanley and Stephen Jenkins.

The study of past events in American History have always intrigued me as it relates to genealogy of my Jenkins family.  There is nothing more amazing and perhaps imaginative than pondering the Wild West or in this case the east coast in the 17th century of Virginia.  I had the opportunity a month ago to be included in a research project  by Real Estate Appraiser Justin Stanley of Hampton, VA.   Justin contacted me via my Descendants page on Facebook inquiring about land formerly owned by Jenkins owners in VA.

Lynchings

1911 lynching victims that were mother and son. You will see their monuments in the slide below. photo credit: google.

The National Memorial for Peace and Justice  or Lynching Museum was inspired from the Apartheid Museum   and  the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe.  It was founded by the Equal Justice Initiative and its creator Bryan Stevenson.  Its location is in the Deep South in Montgomery , Alabama.

Veteran

During a trip visiting my mother and her husband , I had the pleasure of going to the Air Force  Enlisted Heritage Institute.  It is a state attraction.  Civilians are educated at this museum on the history of the air power of the Air Force.  We had hardly walked in the door when my step-dad Roy was greeted like a rock star.  He is a retired WWII  veteran and Stalag 17 POW.  His plane was shot down and he was captured by enemy forces for almost two years in 1942.

Boo—Back By Popular Demand!

Hey Friends,

Back by popular demand-the scariest post I have ever written.  I noticed my blog is blowing up with views.  It always does at this time of the year due to this particular fun post I wrote four years ago while working on genealogy projects!  It was a fun day.  BOO!

The Haunting

 

 

 

I Wish I had A Tractor

I wish I had a tractor 2 weeks ago when I decided to drag my family out to the old Jenkins Cemetery in Caldwell county,  Kentucky.  Many of you may not know, but my most popular post was on finding a haunted cemetery.  It has been a top 10 google search especially during halloween.  Go check it out: The Haunting .

However, if you want to come on this adventure just keep reading.

Story-tellers

Poor Fred. What’s his story?

The river water was dirty.  To see the bottom would be impossible.  The enticing stone’s glistening blue hues was lost after  dropping it into the muddy water.  Those hues reminded me in some retrospective way to the eloquent characteristics we find in the people we surround ourselves with.  They are not the flaws, although they do exist.  Rather the parts in the human spirit we long for in someone we know dearly.  Some of our friends and family brighten up in ways that individually we can not attain. Maybe this is what attracts each of us to one another.

The water with all its mucky and slimy attributes can cover the bottom’s rich colors of what has been lost such as the brilliant blue stone.  The same  goes for life itself.   We find differing colors in others.  It is a good thing to separate the mucky waters from the jewels at times.  Such is the life of a story-teller.  Even the dirt can show humanity, but underneath this is a real human being.  We must sublimely tell the story.  Perhaps it is our own to tell,  of which the path can be dark, yet  slowly we can find our way.

Story tellers and their storytelling is a true art.  There are those that do it well.  My grandmother was such a person.  She took the good out of the bad situation and “forgot” the negative.   Is it correct to do so? Good question.  It depends.   The truth is not always pretty.   At times though,  if we tell the stories doesn’t it seem better to honor the good in someone than the bad? I am conflicted with this.  I then think perhaps my grandmother was onto something.  Maybe she was showing just a tiny glimpse by taking out the bad what awaits us in  heaven.  It is said there will be no more darkness like the murky river water, rather a Light will shine for our path.  That is the real story.

Dedicated to those who have died way too young. Go to my genealogy on the home page for topics about interesting story telling.

Genealogy With A Twist

This is a special blog entry written by my son for a genealogy project and I thought you all would enjoy it:

The year was 2077. A special presentation was about to begin by an elderly gentleman who walked into an old-fashioned diner on a beautiful evening overlooking Lake Washington near Seattle. Inside the diner, the tables were full with school-age children getting ready to listen to this special old man. They knew he was a great story teller and the children were eager to listen. With great anticipation, the man excitedly stated, “Welcome to the unique stories a friend of mine shared with me about his life. This friend is Elijah. Elijah’s stories were told to me by himself so I galloped all the way here to tell them to you today.” The children clapped loudly for the action to begin.

Elijah’s stories began with a European ancestor on his father’s side. This man was Baron VanDorstan who was ruled by a German King almost 250 years ago. It has been told that the king became very furious with the baron because the baron felt the poor people were being taxed to heavily and he refused to collect the money for the king. The King therefore ordered Baron VanDorstan’s execution. The execution never happened because the baron escaped on a boat disguised as a homeless man. He eventually emigrated to America! WHEW! That was a close one.

As the elderly man shifted to the next ancestor in Elijah’s life, the children listened intently. The next story was about Elijah’s great-grandfather who was a semi-pro boxer in Chicago, Illinois.  His name was Alex.  Alex  had the opportunity to meet Babe Ruth, a pro baseball player, and he played catch with him.  Another interesting point about Elijah’s great grandfather was that he washed laundry for a living.  One of his customers was the infamous criminal, Al Capone!

As the time was passing, the elderly gentleman knew the children would want to know his identity, but he explained he wanted to stay a mystery until the end of his story telling.  The children grew with excitement, but agreed to wait.  It was at this point the man began sharing about another ancestor who was Elijah’s great grandmother on his mother’s side.  When Elijah’s grandmother was born in Berlin, Germany in 1939, Elijah’s great grandmother with her grandmother were forced to flee because of World War II and all the bombing going on during the war.  They walked all the way to the southern part of Germany to find  safety.  When they travelled they worried they would be caught by the Russians, but thankfully they were not captured and they did make it to their destination several months later.  Elijah would not be here today if they had been killed.

Another ancestor on Elijah’s mother’s side was great, great, great uncle Senator Kenneth Douglas McKellar.  Senator McKellar was born in Dallas County, Alabama in 1869.  He later moved to Tennessee where he became one of the most powerful politicians during the 1920’s-1940’s.  He assisted President Franklin D. Roosevelt in getting the money to build the atomic bomb!

As the evening was coming to a close, the elderly story teller paused to capture the moment in his mind of all the children looking at him admiringly.  The time had come to tell the children the truth about his identity.  He softly stated he was indeed Elijah and all the stories were about his own family.  The kids clapped loudly with this news, although they were flabbergasted.  It was a great night for all.

PLEASE note extra information/photos in regards to Elijah’s genealogy story above:

Babe Ruth  This photo was given to your blogger of Babe Ruth about 30 years ago.  I have treasured it.  This story my son wrote refers to the Babe whom his great grandpa met.

 

This photo depicts your blogger’s Oma and Mother. This story speaks of my mother and grandmother’s escape from WWII bombing.

The Bear Keeper

• This was the 4th blog post I ever wrote.  I am taking a break from writing for the summer, but thought many of my followers would enjoy this post honoring Memorial Day:

Today’s 4th installment is made possible by the research and interviews obtained from Rebel Kreklow and Elaine Wagner while researching my family tree for genealogy purposes.

The best stories to me are about the ordinary.  It is refreshing to see and take note of my typical family members living in the context of extraordinary times. Painting a truthful picture without the jargon is ultimately the writer’s goal. Yet at times its easy to be taken away in your imagination wondering and indulging a bit about what it must have been like living during a certain time frame.

Rebel’s dad  was Edwin Kreklow from German ancestry. In the picture provided , Edwin’s dad was the second man standing on the right. This man was Albert Kreklow. Our family line is Louis Kreklow, Albert’s older brother, who is the second man standing on the left. They were all farmers like the elder Wilhelm Kreklow seated to the left. Consequently, Edwin grew up on a Wisconsin farm and was especially fond of taking care of the animals.

In 1936, Edwin left Fort Atkinson, WI  for a life in the Navy. Sea life was probably a good fit for Edwin as he was shy and being a way from port was just that much easier as he was not much of a talker. Edwin kept to himself and did his job to the best of his ability.

Edwin was stationed on the U. S. S. Tennessee. The Tennessee was one of the ships in Pearl Harbor when the Japanese attacked. Edwin experienced first hand the attack. It would forever change him according to his son.  Edwin saw so much devastation. The U.S.S. Virginia right next to him sunk. It was the smoke from the Arizona blowing up that probably saved the Tennessee from much damage. Below is part of an account that Edwin made of his experience:

“When I came up on the topside, I couldn’t believe my eyes! Our ship, which was always real clean..was a mess! Water standing all over in our living quarters, fire hoses all over the place, which had leaked or blown out under pressure…..After the fires went out on the Arizona, I was on a working party that went aboard the Arizona to remove the remains of the dead on the topside. Just a terrible sight! No way to tell who was who, because we had no “dog tags” at that time. However, we all got them in a few days. We could not go below decks on the Arizona, because everything was filled with water……”

Its unimaginable in my mind what Edwin went through. A young man who was a farmer to being in what will go down in infamy as one of the pivotal war stories of our country-the day Pearl Harbor got attacked.

What made me share with you about Edwin? Edwin just came alive to me. He left the military and eventually moved to Seattle, WA which is my home town also. He like me came from another area of the country and settled down in Seattle. I especially had my interest sparked when I heard Edwin was the bear keeper in our zoo called The Woodland Park Zoo! Edwin explains that he was especially qualified since he grew up with the animals on the farm. He passed a zookeeper exam with flying colors! He was especially fond of a Himalayan Sun Bear that he named Jughead. Edwin was in this job during the late 1940s. I could not help to think of all the children of Seattle enjoying those animals and Edwin taking care of the animals in the background quietly away from the fray of the public..The children of Seattle were the benefactors of a Pearl Harbor vet and an ordinary farmer from Wisconsin.

Recently I was sharing with a friend about my ancestry work and having lunch at Third Place Bookstore ( www.thirdplacebooks.com ) which is one of my favorite places in Seattle to hang out when I have a spare moment. On this particular day, I noticed a sweet elderly Japanese couple walking into the bookstore with the aid of a cane and holding on to each other. Immediately behind them was a woman I recognized. It was my son’s nurse from his doctor’s office. I decided to say hello and inquire if the couple was her parents. They were. We talked for a few moments and within that time period I was able to find out from her that her parents were once in an internment camp during World War II. They were Japanese-Americans that were forced to Idaho after Pearl Harbor was attacked.

As I observed her parents, I wondered of their lives when they were allowed back to Seattle. Ironically, I had just completed a novel about that time period entitled Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet by Jamie Ford. It is a fictional account of relationships and repentance during the Japanese internment and the aftermath of the consequences of Pearl Harbor. I could not believe I would have the extraordinary luck to see a couple that lived in one of those internment camps.

It was not unusual to enjoy a day at the zoo and this Japanese couple with their daughter was like any other family in Seattle that would go to one of the best zoos in America. I can imagine a beautiful summer day in the late 1940′s that I could see this couple with their daughter walking toward a cute Himalayan Sun Bear named Jughead. Oh how small our world really is…… It is also easy to imagine Edwin, the bear keeper, in the background quietly tending to the animals…..