Not many of my friends or followers may know that I'm an avid genealogist which is why it occurred to me to post about a recent find in both sides of my family history. 

Years ago, when my grandfather was alive and I still lived at home, I had a talk with him about family, my grandmother's family, and what he could remember of his mother in particular.  He had a tattoo on his forearm of initials; his and his dad's from what I can remember, I would imagine he did this in the Navy.  
The third registration for WW1 in 1918 was held on September 12, for men age 18 through 45. These men were born 1872 - 1886 and 1897 - 1900. They answered a twenty question form which included name, age in years, date of birth - not birthplace, citizenship, and address of nearest kin.  He was too young to serve but back in those days you could probably tell them anything and they'd take you, so he lied and said he was a year older and was soon on a Naval ship at 17.  In 1920 he received a notice that his father had passed away in Ohio but he was never able to find his grave in the cemetery.  I found out some time ago, long after he was gone, that his father didn't have a marker but at least Grandpa knew what cemetery he was buried in so maybe in some way that gave him some peace of mind.  He never spoke very fondly of his dad, understandably considering the situation, but maybe after all those years he was able to come to terms with what he thought he had to do.

The next question on his mind was what had happened to his mother, Margaret (Maggie Sutliff)?  
She had died in 1914 but he didn't know what from or where she was buried. 
Before his father left him, he told him he was a man now and had to go to work, at age 13.  G-Grandfather put his daughter in an orphanage and sent my grandfather to live with his brother and get a job to help out with food and bills.  Grandpa did what he could and vowed to get his sister out of the orphanage as soon as he could afford to, which I'm sure drove his need for into the service.  He did as he promised, set her up with a job and a place to live and went to live his own life out West as a cowboy.  Yes, Gramps was a real cowboy, learned to rope and ride and worked as a hand on a farm in Jackson Hole WY.  
 

When my dad was young, he recalled taking a phone call from a woman who was trying to reach her brother, Russ.  Dad had never met his Aunt Hazel but his dad had spoken about her and what he had done for her.  They finally met after many years and after her husband died she came to Florida to live near us; the sweetest looking, best smelling little lady I'd ever met.  I bought her favorite cologne for her every year for Christmas or her birthday; I'll never forget the smell of "White Shoulders".  

I searched for years to find a death certificate for Grandpa's mother; I wrote to every local county office that I could find but I wasn't successful. With the start of the internet and all of the records going online I thought for sure I'd find Maggie and made her a promise that she would not be forgotten. 
Stay tuned for the next installment...