Many years ago my father acquired a 20 volume set of the history of the Civil War. They were old and worn, but they had many wonderful photographs of the men who fought as well as some very disturbing ones of the visciousness and brutality of war. My Father scoured those books looking for any of his relatives who served. He was very excited when he actually found a picture of someone who was related. I believe it was Henry Crumb, who was part of the 114th NY Regiment. I remember looking at the picture of the small blond man who was my great great grandfather squatting in the font row of his unit. At the time I didn't realise how important this link to the past was for my Dad. His family roots were important to him. Many many times we were regaled with the family tree . Dad would actually write all the names down on the kitchen table...Hattie Crumb, Parley Sholes, Hiram Winn and Obadiah Bosworth. They all sounded so strange and funny to me.

Years later I found myself immersed in the genealogy of our family. I started out with the few names I remembered and a whole new world opened up to me about where we all come from and who I am. Our grandfathers were farmers and produce brokers. They were explorers and adventurers, Captains and sailors. They were persecuted Christians looking for a safe place in which to worship. They were soldiers and prisoners of war. They were full of courage and conviction. They battled the Indians, the French and the English...they even battled their own countrymen. My Father is descended from the royal households of Europe. William the Conqueror is my dad's 30 great grandfather. His family line includes King Edward the first, one of the greatest Kings of England. Some of his grandfathers left everything to join the Crusades...with some of them dying in the Holy Land. His grandfathers came from Wales, Scotland and France, Denmark Prussia and Norway. We have a very rich heritage. My Father knew this and wanted to share it with us. At the time I was too young to appreciate what he was doing. There is a sense of dignity in knowing where you come from and a sense of pride in the stock from which you were made. There is also a great realisation of just how small the world really is.

My Dad never invented a new mousetrap , he never climbed Mt Everest, he didn't discover a miracle cure or write a best seller. My Dad made mistakes along the way, but he also had victories and blessings bestowed upon him. He fathered 9 children and was the grandfather of 26 grandchildren and the great grandfather of 12 great grandchildren so far. My Dad worked hard for his living and at one time he worked 3 jobs just to keep us clothed and fed. I recently went into one of the stores he used to work at, [in Morrisville]...and I was struck at how dingy and small it was. I gained a greater appreciation of the sacrifices he made for us in that moment. I thought of him picking apples and cleaning chicken coops....and my appreciation grew even more.

My Dad always had a big garden, at the time I thought it was just something he used to torture us with...making us pick worms and rocks and oh the weeding. He tortured me for years with the "Beet Story".....When I was small maybe 3 or 4, we were weeding a row of beets and I said to him.."When we get to the end of this row, we can have a kiss". That story embarrassed me so much...I hated when he would bring it up. Now I think of that story and I can understand how that show of affection....of a daughter for her father ....really touched his heart.

My Father has a distinguished heritage, but he also has the promise of his inheritance. His children and the generations to come.