A Most Prized Possession

Even though I have autographs of my boyhood idol Hank Sauer (see August 2 post), I do have one possession that ranks even higher.  It is a handwritten diary of my great grandfather, Peter Larsen.  The journal is a veritable fountain of genealogical information about my father’s mother’s (Ellen’s) family.  It opens in the 1880’s in Denmark, goes through 1912 when Peter Larsen died and continues through 1922 – with the later entries in the hand of Peter’s daughter.  One entry is especially memorable:  Torsdag den 15 Marhs fik Ellen en lille Dreng son idanchen fik naunch:  Peter Vilhelm Petersen.   It is an entry announcing (in Danish) the birth of my father on March 15, 1913. 

I recently had the diary translated and I sent copies to family on my father’s side – who I have not seen or heard from in decades.  It has prompted a happy reunion and renewed sense of family.   

What do we value above all else?   Family – to be sure.  But those physical items that one has?   “Things.”  If the need ever arose, I’m not sure there is much in my house that I would want to take save for Donna, Daisy and this old diary.  It makes one think about the things that are truly important.   

 

Genealogy

Earlier this year, I logged on to www.ancestry.com to prowl around and look for relatives (Danish and Swedish).  The site seemed interesting – and ample – so I signed up.  My wife, Donna, saw what I was doing and to date has logged more than 11,000 hours on Ancestry.com.  Not really but she has traced her family roots back to Ireland, Poland, Germany and heaven knows where.  She is decended from William Bagnal Harvey who had his head lopped off (stuck on a pike outside Wexford courthouse) for helping to lead the Irish insurrection against the British in 1798.  On a trip to Northern Ireland a few years ago, we met a university professor who offered a course on this 1798 uprising.  When Donna revealed  her heritage, the man quickly grabbed her hand — and kissed it.  Slowly.  Royally.   She liked that .   Hmmmm . . . . maybe I can learn a lesson from this. . . .