Fifth Friday Focus: Vacations

When was the last time you took a vacation? It could be a trip to visit family or an excursion halfway around the world (maybe it was both!). Where did you go and who did you take with you?

Good Travelers!

Have you ever stopped to think about the economic luxury that a vacation belies? A few generations ago, most families could not ever hope to afford a large trip even once, let alone on a regular basis. The demands of agricultural life and its seasonal rhythms prevented a farm family from leaving for any extended period of time.

Today, thanks to the Industrial Revolution and the rise of technology, many of us can afford to have leisure time and take a week or two for a “get-away.” Sometimes the trip is long and far away; sometimes a staycation is in order and you become a tourist in your own hometown.

Dust off that photo album and spend a few moments reliving a recent vacation. What new experiences did you have? How did you travel: train, plane, car, boat, or foot? What were the favorite memories made by the people with whom you traveled?

Write down the story of your vacation, share it with your family, and include a copy with your photos. The stereotypical post-trip slideshow may be a tired annoyance, but I can assure you that someone will be interested to read about your travels – leave them a great story to enjoy!

It Runs In The Family

Some families have rich stories to tell of the first child to get off the farm and go to college, or the machinist's tools passed from generation to generation. Occupations and work can prove to be very interesting themes for your narratives.

52 Reasons to Write Your Story

Some of you may be new to genealogy. Welcome to the club! You'll be assimilated into the cult of family research in short order. The secret password is "ahnentafel".

Some of you may have been climbing your family tree for a while now, but you've yet to catalog information on the easiest person to research: yourself! You've been so busy tracking down your great-grandfather's birth records that you've neglected to enter your own into your database.

All Good Gifts

Tomorrow is 6 January, the feast of Epiphany. The Western Church traditionally celebrates this day to remember the visitation of the Magi to the young child Jesus. And with the Magi come the gifts of gold for His Kingship, frankincense for His Priesthood, and myrrh for His Sacrifice.

Gift Boxes by FutUndBeidl (CC BY 2.0)

It's also a good reason for us to talk about gifts in our lives. I'm not talking about spiritual giftedness - that's a topic for another blog. I'm talking about physical, tangible wrapped-up boxes with pretty bows. And yes, I think it's a perfectly valid topic for family history, thankyouverymuch.

Friday Focus: Paternal Grandfather

This week's assignment is to record memories of your paternal grandfather, your dad's dad. Often, we grow up visiting our grandparents on a regular basis - that was certainly the case for my mom's side of the family. Other times, however, a grandparent can be a mystery to us, either because of death or separation of some type.

I come from a long line of Acuff men who never had the opportunity to meet their paternal grandfather. I was born in 1978, three years after my grandfather Claude died. My father John was born in 1945; his grandfather (Claude's father) Dan Acuff died in 1928. Claude, being born in 1911, never met his grandfather Enos Acuff, who passed in 1889. Dan's grandfather Claiborne Acuff died in 1867, just a year before Dan was born.

Admittedly, we Acuff men tend to have children later in life (I am the first direct-line Acuff in five generations to have a child before his thirtieth birthday), but it's still a punch in the gut to never have the chance to meet your grandfather. Thankfully we have broken the streak: my dad has gotten to not only meet but enjoy multiple visits with all three (so far) of his grandchildren.

John (b1945), Azariah (b2012), Isaac (b2006), and Zeb (b1978) Acuff

Everything I know about my grandfather Claude Burgess Acuff (1911-1975) I've had to learn secondhand (more about that here). Here are some of the highlights - see if they spark any similar thoughts of your own paternal grandfather (and then write them down!):

• Claude was preparing to attend medical school, but his father's death when Claude was just 16 years old made that dream a financial impossibility. He made his career working as a metallurgist for Alcoa, retiring a few years before his own death. 
• Some of my own interests apparently run in the family - my grandfather researched genealogy (I have some of his notecards), enjoyed photography enough to include plans for a darkroom in the house that he built upon retirement, and reportedly was quite talented musically. Claude’s niece, Mary Burgess (Green) Parker, recalls “fun times, including when her uncle, Claude Acuff, and his friends would sit in a circle in the old living room and have a ‘musical’.” According to his son John, Claude “had a good ear” and could play just about any instrument. John and Hazel (Claude's wife; my grandmother) specifically remember that he played violin/fiddle, guitar, trombone, mandolin, and banjo. 
• Claude grew up in East Tennessee, but his position with Alcoa moved him and his family to Central Pennsylvania just a few years after his son (my dad) John was born. Claude would drive his wife and son back to Tennessee every year to spend summers with family; after his retirement, Claude and Hazel moved back to Tennessee, building a house next door to his childhood home.

What memories do you have of your paternal grandfather? Did you get to spend time with him at all? Did he live near to you growing up, or was there a physical distance between you? Are there any traits of his that you see reflected in yourself?

Mary Parker quote taken from Biographical Sketch of Mary Burgess Green Parker (Article #117, page 45). Grainger County, Tennessee and Its People, 1796-1998. Published 1998 by Grainger County Heritage Book Committee. LC#98-84037 

Sibling Rivalry, Part Three: All Grown Up

This is the last week of our sibling prompts. Today, think about your youngest sibling (or cousin). Don’t forget to apply the childhood and school years questions to today’s sibling, too!

Is your youngest sibling the baby of the family? If so, did they ever get away with anything due to their birth order? Did you and your older siblings play parent to your youngest brother or sister?

Sibs and Their Mom by Brian (CC BY 2.0)

Traditions of Christmas

This is our tree this year, the first live tree we've been able to put up since Tiffany and I got married nearly a decade ago.

The ornaments displayed represent lots of stages of our life together. There are classic ones from each of our families growing up, some that we bought during our dating years, and a handful (often built from LEGO bricks) that our kids have contributed.

We have always had very few generic decorations on our tree. The items we choose to display have significance to at least one, often both of us. Even the broken ornaments tell a story: the love of children is stronger than the obsession with possessions.

What story does your Christmas tree or other holiday decoration bring to mind?  Would a visitor to your home learn something about your family and heritage based on the ornaments they see displayed there? 

Sibling Rivalry, Part Two: Teaming Up

We’re on the second of three weeks to think about the siblings (or close cousins) in our lives. Last week, I asked you to focus on your oldest brother or sister and your memories of childhood with your sibling(s). Today, write about your next oldest sibling. If you’re an only child, choose a cousin or a buddy from school. I’ve only got one sibling (my younger sister), so I’ll continue writing about her.

If you come from a big family and have multiple siblings, be sure to look back at our previous post for some ideas to jog your memories of childhood for this week’s sibling. In the same way, take your sibling about whom you wrote last week and apply the questions below to them and their memories.

Zeb and Sarah in Minnesota, July 1989

Making Memories

Sometimes when I am on the hunt for a particularly elusive ancestor, I can get lost in the records for hours or days. Free record weekends at Ancestry or Fold3 prey on my time, like virtual Pied Pipers leading me down infinitely branching paths. My lunch breaks evaporate into search sessions at the library (again, free Ancestry access).

At the end of these genealogical binges, I can certainly point to progress made in my files, but I typically feel a degree of guilt for all the late nights and excessive screen time. I begin to understand the encouragement underlying Wordsworth's verse: "Up! Up! my friend and quit your books/ or surely you'll grow double"—a great line to trot out in college when you're tired of studying (not that I would know anything about that).

If we spend all our time researching the past, our descendants may have other peoples stories to read, but what about our own? Without taking the actions and adventures that compose a life worth sharing, we will have no personal narratives to write. Don't get so busy digging for your ancestors that you forget to create new experiences for your grandchildren to marvel over!

Auxier Ridge, Red River Gorge, KY

Take some time this month to intentionally make a memory that you can hand down to your grandchildren. Go on an adventure. Try something new or revisit a favorite place, but with the intention of recording your story for posterity.

When you get back, write a vignette about your experience. Be sure to get descriptive and explain how you felt. Why did you choose that particular adventure? Who were you with, or did you head out alone? Is this something you had done before and, if so, what was different about this time? Share your stories in the comments below (or link to your own blog), and be sure to save your text somewhere that you'll be able to find it again when you get ready to compile your personal narrative.

Sibling Rivalry, Part One: "Don't Touch My Stuff!"

Today’s writing prompt is the first in a three-part series about people that hold a special place in our lives: siblings.

Our typical Friday Focus prompts ask you to think about a single person in your family and to record the memories and stories associated with them. Siblings, though, present a few more challenges (in more ways than one!).

My two oldest children, July 2014

Recipes

Some of the strongest memories we have of family revolve around food. Whether you think back fondly to weekend suppers, holiday feasts, or just everyday meals, stories can almost always be woven around cooking, good or bad. How much more appetizing would your family history be if the account of your grandmother’s life was spiced with her legendary recipe for corn pudding or watermelon salad?

Christmas Recipe Box by Shimelle Laine CC BY 2.0

Do you have memories around learning to prepare a special dish (or watching someone else cook it)? Did the preparation duties for a particular recipe ever get handed over to you? Was there something you could never get the hang of, no matter how often you tried?

Father Knows Best

This week’s Friday Focus prompt is all about dear old Dad.

Society (that is, the media) portrays a wide range of images of fatherhood. I promised myself, though, that I wouldn’t go on a rant. I’ll just say that I suspect most of you have experiences with fathers that don’t match the television portrayal of Ozzie Nelson, Cliff Huxtable, Al Bundy, or Raymond Barone.

Whether you are a dad or know a dad, what does the term “fatherhood” mean to you? Did you grow up with a stand-offish, reserved Father or a playful, involved Dad? What did you call your male parent—Dad, Daddy, Father, Pop—and how does that name reflect your feelings toward him?

Aside from your biological father, did you have other older men that you considered father figures in your life? Why?

Chopp'n Wood With Dad by Clearly Ambiguous CC BY 2.0

If you have children, how has your father’s parenting style influenced your own? As I get older, I see more and more of my own dad in myself and in how I treat my kids. At the same time, I can understand my dad better and can find specific ways to consciously diverge from the way I was raised.

Take a few moments and jot down memories of fatherhood from your own life. Some typically father-ish things to think about are:

• Camping
• Sports, whether playing or attending games
• Fishing
• Fixing cars or other household repairs
• Visiting Dad’s workplace
• Yard work (mowing, raking leaves, trimming trees)
• Cooking, especially outdoors (anyone get their dad a King of the Grill apron?)
• Keeping secrets from Mom, usually of potentially dangerous activities
• One-on-one outings
• Learning to drive
• Having your first beer 

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I grew up with a stay-at-home dad in the late 1970s and early 1980s. Mom had the better paying job (by far), and so Dad raised me and my sister until she started first grade. I don’t have many specific memories from my first half-decade of life, but I know that Dad used to help out in our kindergarten classroom and volunteer around the school. One time, for some reason we were talking about buttermilk in kindergarten class, and my teacher asked how many of my fellow five-year-olds had ever had buttermilk (keep in mind this was a suburban school in the Mid-Atlantic; there’s probably still not much buttermilk consumption there today three decades later). Nearly every hand shot up. My skeptical father, in a proto-dad-joke moment, stepped in and asked how many of the kids had ever had bubonic plague—same response.

A dozen years later, my dad and I formed another strong memory during a late summer trip. I was in the midst of my college search and we decided to take a road trip through North Carolina to check out three schools. Dad rented a Sebring convertible and the two of us headed out, cruising down the Skyline Drive and stopping in to visit his mom in East Tennessee. We even took Grandmother for a drive with the top down – an eighty-something woman with a bandanna in her hair rolling through the back roads and mountain passes of the Smokies. I don’t remember much about any of the colleges (I ended up choosing my hometown University of Delaware – literally across the street from my house), but I do remember that convertible!

Father & Son by Nicolas Bffd CC BY-SA 2.0

Now it’s your turn. Share in the comments your memories of being a dad or of being raised by a dad. Don’t be afraid that your memory is too small; just write it down so you’ll have it and you can build a narrative down the road.

Honoring Military Service

Today is Veterans Day in the United States, and I get a day off work, not for anything that I have earned, but because of the sacrifices of tens of thousands who have gone before.

Originally known as Armistice Day to commemorate the end of the first World War, the official holiday became Veterans Day in 1954 so as to honor the service of military personnel in all wars.  Veterans Affairs has a more detailed history of the observance on their website.

If you do nothing else today, thank a veteran for his or her service. Setting politics aside, the individuals in the United States Military deserve our respect and gratitude for the sacrifices made in the name of defending our freedoms. You may not ever see this, but Justin, Mike, James, Nick, Tom, Dick, Jac, Chris, Matthew, Mary, Nelson, Tony, Ben: thank you!

If you are so inclined, I encourage you to research the stories of your veteran ancestors. I believe that recording the tales of our veterans' service and sacrifice is crucial so that future generations can understand more fully their rights and responsibilities as Americans.

Myself, I am just starting to dig into the military history of my family, and I am finding that I have much for which to be personally grateful. Here are some very incomplete sketches of three veterans on my mother's side of the family.

Fifth Friday Focus: Write Your Story (Hallowe'en Edition)

Every Friday here at The Family Yarn, we encourage you to write about a specific person in your family history. Whenever a fifth Friday rolls around, the spotlight swings around to you, dear reader. It's time to put down that Census form and delve into the recesses of your cranium for tasty tidbits of memory from your life. Besides, who better than you to write about you?

Today is All Hallows' Eve, the beginning of a three-day observance known as Hallowtide, in which the dead are specifically remembered. Of course, we genealogists don't really need a formal holiday to remember our ancestors—it seems like they're with us every day!

vintage halloween postcard by dave (CC BY-ND 2.0)

You may know the celebration better as Hallowe'en (or, if you're so inclined, Día de los Muertos, which I like because of the specific focus on the dearly departed in our families). In the United States, October 31st has become one of the most spendy holidays of the year. Much of that is spent on candy, but costumes and decorations get more elaborate every time I see them. I doubt the simple carved jack-o-lantern, bathrobe wizard's cape, and pillowcase bag even cross the minds of children when planning the night nowadays.

The prompt this week is to think back to the late Octobers of your youth. What types of costumes did you wear for Hallowe'en? Were they handmade at home, store-bought, or cobbled together from your family members' wardrobes? Did ever attend or host a Hallowe'en party? Who was there, what did you eat, and what sort of games did you play? How old were you when you stopped dressing up and begging for candy? Have you ever been through a staged haunted house? Did you ever participate in operating a haunted house? (I played a corpse one year, who sat up out of a coffin and reached out for the patrons, beseeching them to "sleep with me". Ah, the craziness of youth!)

Share your Hallowe'en memories in the comments below while you work on that full-size Snickers bar your mom would never let you keep—it's all yours now! Don't forget to save your work in your narrative file for later reference.

Image Credit: Dave on Flickr.com

Friday Focus: Mother Dearest

Today marks the inaugural Friday Focus writing prompt here on The Family Yarn. Friday Focus prompts are intended to assist you in the crafting of your own narrative family history, using individual scenes or vignettes as the building blocks of a larger story. Each week, we will provide some jumping-off questions to get your brain working so that you can spin a short tale about a specific person in your family tree. These scenes should be short (250 to 300 words), but still function as a stand-alone story, something you might share at a party or around a campfire.

This week, write about your mother.

Fog

Fog Series by Stephen Cummings CC-BY 2.0

We woke up this morning to a thick fog descended upon our neighborhood. Driving to work, I strained ahead to catch the flash of brakes or the traffic signal which I knew existed but could not see until I was only a handful of car lengths away.

At ground level and walking pace, the cloudy mist left a cool dampness on my bare arms and shrouded the buildings across the river with a filtered light that briefly made one question the existence of actual bricks and glass. The scene from our sixth-floor office windows presented a virtual late-summer snowscape, nothing but white visible when looking out over the city.

Growing up, my mom drove us to school, which took us past her campus-style corporate complex. Her offices sat back from the road enough that on foggy mornings like today the buildings would be indiscernible. Sometimes, the closest structure would loom out of the haze just as we passed by, a sudden presence on the left side of the road. We would joke that if Mom couldn’t see her office, she didn’t really have to go to work that day, although that never seemed to serve as a good excuse to get us out of school on the same mornings.

Two and a half decades later, I found myself in downtown Cincinnati, early for a morning meeting and craving a caffeine fix. Walking through Lytle Park, the same fog that hid office buildings in my childhood was cloaking the skyscrapers and historic walkups of my new city. All at once, the rising sun behind me found a chink in the low-lying clouds and illuminated the towers with an unearthly golden-pink glow that cannot be adequately described. The waning stillness of the awakening city, the detailed permanence of the architecture around me, the moistness of morning mist, and this vibrant peachy glow filled me with an awe typically reserved for a mountain vista and reassured me that I do, at times, love a city.

 
Do you have any strong memories of foggy days? Were you in a city, on a beach, or out in wilderness? What is the best description of fog you have seen or heard? How would you use the written word to paint a picture of a heavy fog? Share your ideas in the comments.