In my family, I’m the one who is the genealogist. I’m the one following all those little leaves and all the intriguing stories of our ancestors. History fascinates me, the hardships, the travels, the accomplishments and the loves of my family interest me to no end. I have photos of my great grandfathers and mothers from the civil war days, I have their autograph books with General Lee written in the margin by a wistful teenage girl.
And I have this photograph of my great-great-grandfather celebrating the acquisition of his broom corn thrasher with a man named Pinky. I also noticed that our last name has changed spelling since then – we’ve added an “e” after the “b” and before the “r” at the end.