Stories

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Do you really know who you are?

Published August 5, 2014 by Dream Weaver

Most people know who their parents, siblings, grandparents & cousins are.  A few of us our luckily adopted into loving families with either no information and sometimes with a small amount of information and others with if they are lucky a full name usually the last name of one the parents and where the birth happened.  Some of adoptees are happy to never know anything about their birth parents their who lives.

A month ago, my spouse and I (the avid genealogist) decided to do our DNA.  Me to confirm what I knew and maybe possibly find answers to a few puzzles.

My spouse curious about his birth parents, he had no information at all and a birth certificate not on file in his home state, where he lived his whole life of almost 60 years.

My DNA has as I suspected confirmed no new leads, just confirmation.

My Spouse no close leads.

I did have one name I had no clue on as a First Cousin.  So I contacted him.  For privacy we will call him John.  John was born in my home state in a small town 40-50 miles from most of my immediate family on both sides of my family tree.  Which perked an interest.  He’s 7 years younger so we are close in age as most of my cousins range 20 years. Which happens when you come from large families.

I asked John to check his matches for 2 names and lo & behold he matched them at the same level, we 3 share the same Great Great Grandparents.

We talked about who could be his father in my line, and his hopes as you can imagine grew.  I slowed him down even though the resemblance is remarkable to uncles and cousins.

So I pushed him to look for a few more matches on my fathers mothers side trying to narrow down the long list of possibles.  He matched them both the same level as I do, my father’s mother’s line.

So we share the same Grandparents X & Y.

Next thing I did was look for John Smith’s last name at birth in burials in the small town and the county.  What did I find one 14 year old who died three years before he was born and 5 family trees with the teenage boy in it.  I sent them all emails hoping they will help John Smith find his true parents names, even if it is only a father.

Now we wait.  I don’t know who is more anxious John or me.

Do you really know who you are?  Do you really know who your family really is?  What secrets are hiding in your closet?

I will try and keep you posted on any updates.  Good news is he finding lots out about his ancestors and with any luck soon his parents.

Karma Come Soon

Published July 3, 2014 by Dream Weaver

Three men on choppers arrive at their destination, a house at almost the end of a dirt road in the mountains of Arizona.  They stepped off their hogs in unison like outlaws in an old western.

They head to the cabin of their destination as an older man steps out on the porch.  “Hi, guys are you lost?”

“Not if you’re Owen”, said the burly bearded biker.

“Yes, that’s my name, may I ask who you are?” said Owen.

“We are, Hicks, do you know why we are here?” said the lead biker.

“I think so…”Owen said and stood quietly waiting.  He had spent fourteen years in prison not much scared him anymore, but he knew well enough to stand tough and not show fear.

“We are not here to hurt you or scare you, we just want to talk.  You have done a lot to hurt our cousin and the pain you cause her has never stopped.  Just because you are no longer molesting her, doesn’t make the memories or pain go away.  The trauma remains and the pain still stings.  You took everything from her, her father, her cousins, aunts and uncles.  You took her innocence and her confidence.  We suspect you even took her mother away, from stupidity causing her death.  Then you even took her mother’s death wish, her mother’s last words away from her.  Frankie was surrounded by her siblings, nieces and nephews where were you? Frankie spoke to Sandy just before she was put on life supports.  Frankie told Sandy that this cabin is hers not yours.  That you had other places, properties and this place was hers.  At least 4 people heard this from Frankie, Sandy didn’t fight it. Even before when Sandy last saw Frankie she talked to her mother about her Mother’s Ring. You thought there were synthetic stones which actually were real gemstones, Frankie told her to take the ring. And sadly she forgot it and you say that the ring had been gone for years.  Sandy has been fighting for her sanity and life since you snuck into her life.  Now for the last three years she has fought medical battles, lucky to have survived, broke verily getting by, while you live in her house, going to the casino regularly and Las Vegas.  It is just you here why, do you have so many cars and motorhomes?  Sandy has one car that verily runs and can’t afford to get another.  Does anything sound fair here?  Do you ever think of anybody but yourself? Do you feel any guilt at all for all the lives you destroyed?  What are you going to do about this?”

Owen spoke, “You are right, where do I start?

The lead rider spoke, “How about thinking of her first for a change.  Sale the vehicles you don’t need.  Keep the truck and send everything from the sale of the vehicles to Sandy.  Or even better, send them full of some of the stuff you are just sitting on and let Sandy sell them at auction in Iowa where they will bring in good money.  You do not need all the stuff you have, come on you are an old man don’t make someone else handle it after you are gone.  All your prized stuff will be worth nothing after you are gone.  You know old man Karma is a bitch, there is still hope for you; God does not forgive everything.”

The lead rider shook his head, looked at his cousins and said, “We are done here, and the rest is up to him.  Let’s ride.”  In unison, they hopped on their hogs and started them up and rode away down the dirt road with their backs to the old man.

Remember…. Karma is a bitch, sooner or later she will get you!

Truth and Legends of Superstition Mountains Throughout childhood I spent lots of time at the base of the Superstitions. My family owned 1000 acres homestead & mine long before Arizona had become a state. Sadly, statehood cost my ancestors the loss of the majority of the land. They were only allowed to keep 100 acres, so family history goes, so they kept the mine portion of the land figuring they would still have a living. They destroyed the house my 2nd Great-Grandmother would not let anybody live in her home and everything they could not take was left and blown up with dynamite. I remember being shown fragments of dishes and the stories told when we camped out at the mine when I was around six to ten years old. The mine held so many fond memories for me. The best personal memory was when I visited my Grandmother from California during my sixth summer. My parents were driving in to get me and I didn’t want to go back and neither did Grandma, so we went several places and ended alone out at the mine, hiding out. My parents of course were not happy driving all over the counties looking for us and I sadly went with them. As for stories told, you have to visualize the mine building. Typical shed/shack like wood structure with no beds inside. Attached to one corner was an L shaped structure with a roof and several old spring brass beds. You could sleep dozens in this sleeping area. We would pull out bedding on top of the beds and sleep, with stories for all the children. Most people love the Lost Dutchman Legend, we laugh at it and are a little frustrated over the imagination of it. Whenever, he was starving and weak he came down from the mountains to recover at any neighbor who would take him in. He had his regulars and my ancestors were one of at least two. One man, who fuels the ‘Legend’ says he remembers gold rocks under The Dutchman’s bed, my grandmother and I visited that man once, he told me his version of the story. After we left, she smiled and retold the story that our family tells that of a starving miner with no means of support or gold. Why would there be two stories? If you ask me, the desire for fame. If the ‘Dutchman’ had found gold, why not buy food, clothes, supplies before his journey back? If people already believed he had gold, he could easily lose them in those mountains. Why horde it all? He always left our family mine with food & clothes donated by my ancestors not purchased. No one found his body, his mine or gold. Sadly he died, in those mountains probably buried in his collapsed mine. Legends can be entertaining, but usually are just stories.

Published June 12, 2014 by Dream Weaver

Truth and Legends of Superstition Mountains

Throughout childhood I spent lots of time at the base of the Superstitions. My family owned 1000 acres homestead & mine long before Arizona had become a state.  Sadly, statehood cost my ancestors the loss of the majority of the land.  They were only allowed to keep 100 acres, so family history goes, so they kept the mine portion of the land figuring they would still have a living.  They destroyed the house my 2nd Great-Grandmother would not let anybody live in her home and everything they could not take was left and blown up with dynamite.  I remember being shown fragments of dishes and the stories told when we camped out at the mine when I was around six to ten years old.

The mine held so many fond memories for me.  The best personal memory was when I visited my Grandmother from California during my sixth summer.  My parents were driving in to get me and I didn’t want to go back and neither did Grandma, so we went several places and ended alone out at the mine, hiding out.  My parents of course were not happy driving all over the counties looking for us and I sadly went with them.

As for stories told, you have to visualize the mine building.  Typical shed/shack like wood structure with no beds inside.  Attached to one corner was an L shaped structure with a roof and several old spring brass beds. You could sleep dozens in this sleeping area.  We would pull out bedding on top of the beds and sleep, with stories for all the children.

Most people love the Lost Dutchman Legend, we laugh at it and are a little frustrated over the imagination of it.  Whenever, he was starving and weak he came down from the mountains to recover at any neighbor who would take him in.  He had his regulars and my ancestors were one of at least two.

One man, who fuels the ‘Legend’ says he remembers gold rocks under The Dutchman’s bed, my grandmother and I visited that man once, he told me his version of the story.  After we left, she smiled and retold the story that our family tells that of a starving miner with no means of support or gold.

Why would there be two stories?  If you ask me, the desire for fame.  If the ‘Dutchman’ had found gold, why not buy food, clothes, supplies before his journey back?  If people already believed he had gold, he could easily lose them in those mountains.  Why horde it all?  He always left our family mine with food & clothes donated by my ancestors not purchased.  No one found his body, his mine or gold.  Sadly he died, in those mountains probably buried in his collapsed mine.

Legends can be entertaining, but usually are just stories.

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