I hear voices calling me to a castle in Germany. And I call back, “send me a plane ticket and I’ll be right there!”
I got an email this past weekend from a dear cousin who has done extensive genealogical research for my mother’s side of the family. I’m glad he’s the detective as the research involved makes me tired just thinking about it.
He extended an invitation to join him in Germany this summer for a celebration of our ancestry. Picturing my relatives in a castle in the German countryside makes me want to schedule a visit. Too bad they’re all dead. Apparently, I have an ancestor named Arthur Franz von Bardeleben who was sent to America just prior to the Revolutionary War around 1773 in the von Ditfurth Regiment and stayed in America. This part of my mom’s family lives in Alabama as the DeBardelebens. I’m sure there are lots of fascinating tales of what took place in the migration from Germany to Alabama.Another line of the family came by way of Holland. This history lesson got me thinking about the untold stories that we can’t even imagine in each family lineage. I’ve noticed the skeletons in our closets become less embarrassing as the skeletons age. Just a pile of bones with a story.
I ‘m also reminded that each of us is a unique little melting pot. We should be ready to embrace every nation, creed and color because as Americans, it’s a reality that there’s a little of the whole world in most of us.
I want to write down the things I remember; the stories told by my great-grandmother and my great great aunts. Keeping history alive is a responsibility, really. I think I’ll start a history series on my blog called “The Cracker Chronicles” (in honor of the many Florida crackers in the mix). My aristocratic relatives would love that, don’t ya think?