The X Files

I don’t have ancestors from Roswell, New Mexico, nor am I related to Fox Moulder, but I do have an X-File in my tree. I’m talking about those frustratingly unsolvable mysteries that gnaw at your brain until your eye starts twitching.

Actually, I have two of those, one is the mystery of where my GGGGreat Grandfather was born, but it’s only the fact that it’s on my surname line that this really gets to me. I mean, if you could get all lines back to the 1700’s you’re doing well.

The other one is more current and involves my Grandfather who was adopted. Following on from a previous post on one half of his adoption story, this post focus’ on trying to find his birth father. I’ll ruin the story now and say that as yet the mystery is still unsolved, so don’t assume a happy ending just yet!  This one’s a work in progress.

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My Grandfather’s Adoption

My Grandfather George, was born in 1919 at 77 Bridport Rd, a former Workhouse turned Military Hospital in Edmonton, London, seven months after the end of World War I.

His mother, Eva-Rose had been serving with the British Women’s Army Auxiliary Corps as a cook and nurse. She had met George’s father, an Australian soldier, the previous year whilst working at one of the War Rest Camp’s, most likely Folkestone Rest Camp, where soldiers would stay after fighting in France.

She later mentioned that she was engaged to the man who she knew as Jack Scott and that he lived in a rural area of eastern Australia.

George was named after his maternal grandfather who was not happy about the situation and it was a particularly stressful time for the family having also just lost his wife and the children’s mother, Sarah, who had recently died from tuberculosis only a few weeks earlier, leaving father George with six children under 18 and four others of adult age.

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Solving Mystery Photos

About 8 years ago, I received a copy of some family photos from a distant relation. At the time, although I was into genealogy, I had only been doing it on and off over the previous 4 years and to be honest, I probably wasn’t that serious about it so I didn’t give them too much thought as the photos had no names attached to them.

Seven years later I found them again on an old computer hard drive but had no idea who I’d originally got them from, who the photos were of or even which particular family they belonged to. I sort of remembered them being from my Tonkin branch, but let this be a lesson to all…never rely on your memory for anything. Write things down, where/who you got items from, what information you have on them, dates, names, places, anything can be a helpful clue in the future.

These days, photos are probably one of my favourite aspects of genealogy. I love the social history side of it and to be able to see what people were wearing, the expressions on their face that may hint towards their personality, or even looking out for things such as…’hey that lady from 1870 has my nose!’ can all be really exciting. Just the mere thought of seeing a really old photo and contemplating the fact that the person in it was born in the 18th Century, can be the mind-clearing equivalent of  ‘what’s the sound of one hand clapping?’

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G’day from WA…

This being my first post, I guess I should say a little about my tree and background.

There are two lines that I obsess over the most, my paternal (surname) line and my paternal grandmothers fathers line, probably because it has Italian roots and my dark features are a little unexplained, plus I like having something a little different to the usual Anglo roots. The other lines I’ve researched, but probably with not as much passion as these two.

Although in the past few years I’ve focussed a bit more on my maternal grandfathers line but it’s something I deem a little bit different as it delves in DNA genealogy, but I’ll write more about him later…it’s very interesting and a massive learning curve!
All up I’m English, Scottish, Polish, Austro-Italian, Kiwi, Irish and a little bit of unknown…if I were a dog, you could certainly say I am a mutt.

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