That’s my daddy! George Henry Jones.
As some of you may know, I have been working on my family tree for about 30 years now. This has been no easy task since I have just mixed ethnicity. For those not in the know, My father was a Negro and my mother was Dutch. I have had great success in tracking my mother’s lines, but my father’s have been…challenging.
Over the last three weeks, my friend and I have been driving from state to state searching our roots. One of my most difficult line is my father’s lines. The are Negros from Mississippi, North, Carolina, and Tennessee during the slave era. OY.
Karen, Michael, and Jeannie Jones 2018
At any rate, this past week I went to Lansing, MI to see my sister and brother. Jeannie, Michael, and I share a father. I got to spend a week with my sister about 30 years ago, but had never met my brother. Last week was the first time the three of us had EVER been together at the same time. To tell you it was incredible does not do it justice. It was like finding a part of myself.
As my sister and I sat looking through pictures, I found something I had long ago given up hope of finding. Jeannie had run across a picture and she didn’t know who it was. I knew immediately upon looking at it that it was me and my father. I felt like I had won the lottery. My whole life I have ever only had one picture of my father, none of us together.
For nearly three weeks, we drove across so many states and hit so many libraries, and the last night of my trip I discover the piece of the puzzle I have been missing. Actual proof of me and my father together. What a glorious feeling.
I love genealogy. I love the research aspect and more than anything I love the discovery aspect. My husband clings diligently to the “Adam & Eve” theory that we are all related and the rest is just a waste of time. That’s fine for him, but I guess I am more about the how of the connections. If I am potentially connected to someone, I want to know how, by who, or is it whom. Either way, I want to know.
The 
Journey of the Heart 