Tree Climbing Tree climbing - family tree climbing- can be a rewarding experience. There, waiting for you- in an old churchyard, in parish records, in Grandfather's oral history or in that bunch of letters you found up in the attic- is a genetic inheritance that goes back, generation upon generation, into the mists of time Each one of us is the sum of many parts. And how can we truly know ourselves if we know not from whence we came? I have long been fascinated by these unseen influences, these gifts from the past. And I am fortunate; a lot of digging into family history was done before I was born. Musty documents in cardboard boxes dot my childhood landscape, along with fading photographs and the occasionally embroidered remembrance by aged aunts. Exploring the past is an occupation I highly recommend; climbing the family tree can offer an enthralling view when you reach the upper branches. Here are a few of the more interesting folk whose genes I have inherited and who have, without ever knowing it, helped shape my life. It's a way, perhaps, of saluting them from a great distance, creating a memorial for them that would have been beyond their wildest imaginings. And if you think you're a part, however distant, of my extended family, I'd be delighted to hear from you and pass on all the information I have. CLEMENT DECK armorial bearings (Or, an annile azure between four thistles proper) granted in 1496. My (count 'em) great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great- great grandfather, on my mother's side. A descendent, in direct line, Jean (John) Deck came to England in 1725, died in 1761 and is buried in St James' Churchyard, St Edmundsbury. I know nothing about Clement or what he might have fashioned in gold for the king, but he probably looked something like this. Any French Decks out there? | |
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