Ever trace your roots or research from where you came? I heard stories and tales, and my curiosity ebbs and flows about my ancestry. Like many, I am an American mutt…the land of the melting pot runs through my veins. My features are fairly non-descript, nothing points me to one typical line.

For a long time, I believed myself to be mostly of Irish and English descent. But I was born with slightly olive skin, eyes of coal and a midnight mane to match.

As a child, I easily tanned with freckles, but rarely a burn, but unexposed skin turned paler than pale. As an adult, my Anglo Saxon traits took over and now sun block is a must.

My mother couldn’t deny me, our faces are strikingly similar, but I didn’t get her hazel eyes, blond hair, or amazing metabolism! So, I often wondered where did the rest come from.

In his youth, my birth father was asked if he knew how to speak English when he went for his driver’s license. Imagine their surprise when that southern twang came out of his mouth, along with the raised eyebrows. His hair, dark and slicked back, and his skin darkly tanned from working in Grandpa’s garden confused many people up north.

I started tracing what I could find. I’m not ready to do the DNA thing, but still, I am curious. As I worked up and down the eastern US records online, tracing births and deaths, so many of the later generations were less than 100 miles apart, but finally, the lines started to move.

One line faded into rumors of Native American blood but no one had proof…a woman married into the family, but no one could trace her parents. The last name however is connected to French and Germanic lineages.

Finally, a few lines officially took off to Europe. Soon, in addition to English and Irish lines, Welsh, Scotch, and Germanic lines came into view. At last count, I had traced one line to thirteen generations!

I couldn’t believe my luck! One day I need to organize my findings into something more concrete and dig a little deeper. Maybe it will even stir up some exciting stories and tales!