r lived in West Virginia and resided with her grandparents, some of the census information was new to me. When I mentioned that I discovered that Mother’s grandfather was a dairyman, my mother perked up and began telling me Recently, my wife took an introduction to genealogy course at our local library. She was interested in gathering more information about her family history. She found the class very useful in filling in some missing pieces about the story of her parents.

One way of generating genealogical information was to download census data, in this case dating back to the 1930’s. My wife was very excited about her discoveries and the process had piqued my interest. I wondered what I might find out about the life story of my 91 year old mother.

I pulled up the fifteenth census of the United States, completed on April 17, 1930. My mother was raised in Richwood City, West Virginia. She lived with her grandparents during her pre-adolescent years. She and her grandparents lived on Boggs Street with her grandfather working on a farm as a dairyman.

Although I was aware that my mother lived in West Virginia and resided with her grandparents, some of the census information was new to me. When I mentioned that I discovered that Mother’s grandfather was a dairyman, my mother perked up and began telling me s

bout the story of her parents.

One way of generating genealogical information was to download census data, in this case dating back to the 1930’s. My wife was very excited about her discoveries and the process had piqued my interest. I wondered what I might find out about the life story of my 91 year old mother.

I pulled up the fifteenth census of the United States, completed on April 17, 1930. My mother was raised in Richwood City, West Virginia. She lived with her grandparents during her pre-adolescent years. She and her grandparents lived on Boggs Street with her grandfather working on a farm as a dairyman.

Although I was aware that my mother lived in West Virginia and resided with her grandparents, some of the census information was new to me. When I mentioned that I discovered that Mother’s grandfather was a dairyman, my mother perked up and began telling me

ed my interest. I wondered what I might find out about the life story of my 91 year old mother.

I pulled up the fifteenth census of the United States, completed on April 17, 1930. My mother was raised in Richwood City, West Virginia. She lived with her grandparents during her pre-adolescent years. She and her grandparents lived on Boggs Street with her grandfather working on a farm as a dairyman.

Although I was aware that my mother lived in West Virginia and resided with her grandparents, some of the census information was new to me. When I mentioned that I discovered that Mother’s grandfather was a dairyman, my mother perked up and began telling me

, West Virginia. She lived with her grandparents during her pre-adolescent years. She and her grandparents lived on Boggs Street with her grandfather working on a farm as a dairyman.

Although I was aware that my mother lived in West Virginia and resided with her grandparents, some of the census information was new to me. When I mentioned that I discovered that Mother’s grandfather was a dairyman, my mother perked up and began telling me

r lived in West Virginia and resided with her grandparents, some of the census information was new to me. When I mentioned that I discovered that Mother’s grandfather was a dairyman, my mother perked up and began telling me stories about how she helped out on the farm by feeding the animals and milking the cows. When I mentioned to my mother that she lived on Boggs Street, she drew a blank. However, hours later, she called me with renewed excitement to share her story. The street was named after the Boggs family who were their only neighbors on top of a hill in rural Richwood.

Life is a tapestry of memories, some which unfortunately go unspoken. Stories define the nature of our life, and link us to our history and our future. Memories are made of the stuff that illuminate our legacy.

Family stories help people become three-dimensional. They make our loved ones more than what we see on the surface. They change our perception of significant others. Memories illuminate the experiences of our families; making our loved ones lives appear fuller, richer, with more emotional depth.

Family