When I first started doing genealogy, I didn’t even realize “it” had a name, or that I was doing “it.” I am truly the accidental genealogist. I simply wanted to find out something about my father’s family. He died in a car accident when I was in grade school and we didn’t live anyplace close to his family. I think the nesting instinct had set in. I was pregnant for my second child.
I did discover some information, but that ended with the memory of older family members. And then, my genealogy endeavors took a decade long holiday while I finished my master’s degree and other life events happened.
One day, I saw an announcement in the newspaper that the local Mormon Church was having a genealogy workshop. They invited you to bring your sticky problem and come on by. I took that same child with me that evening, somewhat…
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