Tales of Stoic Germans and Drunk-Ass Irishmen…

As with all histories…the truth we think we know depends on who’s doing the telling. This is never more true than with family histories. Family politics and personal agendas are certainly not evident when you are a young child listening to the stories of your parents’ youth. And what’s even more insidious then what is... Continue Reading →

Homesteaders, Hometowns and Final Resting Places

I’ve often envied those people who have a “hometown”…the place they were born, were raised, the place their grandparents are buried. A place they know so well...their memories all rolled up into one location. When I am asked where I’m from, where I call home…I’m never quite sure how to answer. Is it the place... Continue Reading →

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