FOREVER Under Construction
Remember me in the
family tree --
My name, my days, my strife;
Then I'll ride upon the wings of time
And live an endless life -- Goetsch
This beautiful thought is by Linda Goetsch and is used with permission.
Visit her sight,
Paper Tree, by
clicking on this butterfly...
and fly
over to her pretty pages of family trees.
She has the most beautiful Family Trees for sale.
Make yourself at home. If you are family...GREAT!!! If you are a friend...WONDERFUL!!!
If you just wandered in here and aren't sure where you are or how you got here...you must be family...and you're home!!! Welcome one and all.
Susannah Roberts was born 8-16-1740 and died 10-14-1830. Her husband, Joseph Strout
was born in 1738 and died February 17, 1821. Joseph Strout served as sergeant in
Colonel Foster's regiment, Lincoln County, Massachusetts. (Maine used to be a part of
Massachusetts) He was born in Falmouth; died in Millbridge, Me. The Strouts go forward
to the Hall family and go backwards to the Mayflower and Stephen Hopkins.
Orrin O. Hall, my grandfather. He loved books, so this little man represents him
until I can get a picture of him. (Now I have a picture, see below, but I like this little man so he will stay!)
Mary Ella Strout - Nathan Pulsifer Hall - Child?
Their Graves
These are the parents of Orrin O. Hall and possibly a sister. Grave pictures provided by cousin, Alice Beal. Thanks Alice!
Alice also sent the pictures below. These are the graves of Mary Ella Strout's father, Otis S. Strout and his mother Abigail Joy. Double click to see pictures.
Below are the parents of Judith Sprague Hall, my grandmother and wife of Orrin O. Hall.
Lafayette Sprague Nancy Cook Sprague
Judith and Orrin Hall Judith Sprague
About 9 yrs. old
Orrin Otis Hall
with George & Helen
The Story Tellers....we are the chosen...
or why I am so fascinated ("obsessed") with Genealogy
My feelings are 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.
To me 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 am I and why do 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 they fought to make and keep us a Nation. It goes to a deep and immense understanding that they were doing it for us. 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 them and they are us.
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 their 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 put flesh on the bones.
Anonymous
This page has been created and is maintained by Priscilla Paul
Using Microsoft Frontpage
© Priscilla Paul
2000-2011
