Sometimes I think, dreams are communications with relatives gone to the great beyond. As a child I would dream I was on a train, and met a man who asked me to find him. I woke to find myself startled and upset. I could not find anyone, for I didn't even know where I was. For many years, this dream would haunt me. I could see his face, he was wearing black, including a cowboy hat. This dream began to change setting as I got older. I was in a cemetery looking at headstones. The one headstone was of my great grandmother and the second was of my great step grandmother. I eventually told my mother about my dream and she dismissed me as if it were a tall tale. Later, she would reveal my findings as fact. The names on the stones were of my great grandmother and my great step grandmother. The old man in the dream I had asked him if he were my grandfather, Henry. The response was; "No, I am Jacob." I had no clue of this name, but when I revealed it to my mother, she said, "Jacob, is grandpa's dad."
Grandpa never really talked about his family. All We knew was that great grandpa had smacked great grandma in the head with an iron skillet. They said she was a dreamer and would not fix the nightly supper for great grandfather. He would come home and find her day dreaming. The roles of husband and wife were quite defined back at the turn of 20th Century. The husband would work the farm and the wife would cook and care for the children. There really was no time to sit idle. If she didn't start baking in the morning, supper would not be ready for that evening. From what I understand, the family committed her to a hospital in Norfolk, Nebraska.
Many years have passed since my grandfather died because of an explosion in his trailer. I never really knew the man, except for what my mother told me about him. She always said he was a drunk, who had another life, that she was not a part. She can recall all the times grandpa would get drunk and then disappear for months at a time. She can also recall the times when he sobered up, he would find some kind of job and everything would be fine. Going through the photo albums I can see some of the good times. Mom seems to not remember those times, but you can see it in her eyes that she loved the old man.
Times have come and gone, but I still feel the lingering effects of the past. The past only gives me an insight of who I am. I am a descendant of a California Gold Rush participant, a Volga German immigrant, and a whole list of lives that once occupied this heavenly planet.
Starting a journey in finding my ancestors was not difficult. I began searching on Ancestry.com. I plugged in my grandfather and grandmother and it seemed to take off. I spent many months tracking census information and birth and death records. After so long, it becomes a bit meaningless. I truly needed more. I found that visiting cemeteries, from Nebraska to California, which gave me a little more information. I connected with each headstone, touching the soil and the marker. While visiting, I ask about other relatives, which are in the great beyond, photos, or stories. It seems, my questions are always answered. I soon began meeting distant cousins who are in search of my same questions. I only visited the Cemeteries in Nebraska and South Dakota, but my search sent me to Findagrave.com to find the distant headstones. Most of the relatives were not listed in the data base, I then became a contributing member, seeking photos of my dear ancestors markers.
Connecting to cousins is a great experience, they might have a bit more of the puzzle that is missing from the tree. A hidden photo that might be hidden in an old album a letter sent many years ago stuck in the bottom of a box, or the family bible. It might still be there. I have connected with many cousins that might have information that is relevant to my quest, or maybe they know someone else that does. My dear cousin Vin is one such cousin, she and her family still had great photos and connected me to other distant cousins who had more photos and family stories. My grandmother on my father's side had no such photos, but to find her sister's line with photos was a wonderful find. After meeting Vin, I was able to meet cousin Ernie. Ernie, had obtained photos from his father. He also helped in my quest. He drove up and down Northern California to speak to other cousins. He obtained a photo of my Great Grandparents and a photo of my grandmother at 5 years old from another cousin. In his search, he discovered the family bible, which had been lost since the 1950's. In a story he told, great grandfather Henry Hamburg, passed away in 1952. On the day of his funeral, Margaret Kinsvater, his niece on his wife's side had taken the family bible. The family began looking for the bible and could not find where it was located. A few years later, it was discovered that she had taken this bible.
It had caused much family trouble between the families. Great Aunt Millie had begged for it's return, however, Ms. Kinsvater would not deliver. My Aunt Lucille, who was living in Washington State decided to do her own research on the family. She contacted Ms. Kinsvater and she agreed to bring the bible to help with her research. As Aunt Lucille was looking at the bible, she ripped out the pages that were needed, with Ms. Kinsvater
There still are more photos out there. I will find them when the time comes.
I obtained a lead Jacob was buried somewhere in South Dakota. The summer of 2011 I went searching for this mysterious cemetery out in a field somewhere by Martin. This cemetery was down a dirt road about ten miles, take a cow path east five miles, turn at an old farm house, take another cow path and on the top of the hill is Gamble Cemetery. These directions will not get you there, but it was a trek that I took my cousin and aunt on. We were in my all terrain vehicle; there would be no other way to get down these cow paths, with all the bumps, potholes and pastures. We finally made it to the cemetery. It was gated with a bob wire fence. As we approached, I didn't know if we were at the right place, the sign was old and faded. The only way to tell was by some of the residents markers. As I photographed the whole cemetery, I noticed, Jacob was not there. It was not a waisted trip. Many of the headstones were needed by some of the FindAGrave members. There were also headstones there that were not recorded. Many of them were from children that passed in the 1920's an 30's.
My Aunt commented on this, "There are a lot of children buried here."
On our way out of the field we noticed an on coming truck. We followed this vehicle out of the cow trails and finally stopped to talk to the owner. It was an elderly lady and her daughter. They were out visiting the rural cemeteries. It turned out, her Aunt was my grandfather's cousin. She had been searching for her Aunt Innis for almost 50 years. The family would not give the family the info needed to find their relative. Cousin Innis was on my list and she was buried in Scottsbluff, Nebraska. The family could rest after 50 years of searching. I guess I was not supposed to find Jacob, but to give information to another seeker.
I have found much information on my ancestors, but to help another seeker is a great feeling. I have been asked by other seekers if I have any more information on lines, but I only have what I have been given.
The dream puts me on a train, I never saw a train on my journey to Gordon, Nebraska, but there once was a train that would pass through there every day, bringing goods and folks to the area. The tracks have been ripped up and the whistle has not blown in over forty years. Maybe my grandfather and great grandfather rode that train.
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