Pass the Roots, Please By Chuck Elledge [email protected] [Author's Note: To protect my granddaughter and the privacy of my in- law's family, I changed surnames in this article except for my own.] This is just a general discussion topic I want to toss out there -- do you research with an end result in view (writing a family book, etc.) and then plan to pack it all up? Or do you research your family with the hope of passing it on someday to a next-generation researcher? Any idea yet who that will be? A year ago I was in a quandary. My wife had asked me, "When are you going to write the book?" It bothered me. When indeed? I find I love the hunt so much I'm not in that big a hurry to summarize any of my research. Oh, I dash off a report to a family member who calls, suddenly interested for one reason or other, or to answer a query from a possible cousin and my genealogy software program could generate a number of family books on our lines, but her question bothered me. Am I frittering away huge chunks of free time searching for long-gone family that will ultimately end up in a big blue dumpster? Was genealogy nothing more than another type of "ball card collecting" hobby? Let's see, I have a Eugene Tracy, he had a heckuva season in 1876, got elected mayor of Podunk, and he's a family all-star. I got his birth card and his marriage card. All I need to complete the set is his "Tombstone Topper." Whatever your beliefs, I think there has to be a higher power that keeps an eye out for these small crises of doubt, when one wonders if there is any point to some of things held most dear. My answer came in a visit from my granddaughter, Kirstie. She lives a few hours away. She's a young lady now; I realized that the moment she stepped out of her parents' car for a two-week visit this summer. My gosh, another generation nearly grown. That night, after my daughter and son-in-law drove off for their respite from "teen terror" I retreated to my genealogy room to get a bit of research done. That is one nice thing about the kids growing up -- suddenly you have "specialty" rooms. Aimee's (Kirstie's mom) bedroom had become my genealogy room and our dining room table had again become the place we eat dinner without dodging chairs around piles of paper and file boxes. I was engrossed in a census search on Ancestry.com, cussing its stupid indexing under my breath, when I realized Kirstie was standing behind me. Figuring she wanted to play "Teenagers' Dungeon of Doom" or some such thing, I offered her the computer. She sat down, but called me back when I started to leave. "Show me how you do that." When I realized she meant search Ancestry, I showed her how it worked and she started searching for her grandparents on her dad's side. I explained privacy rules and how she'd need to go farther back because her dad's parents were born after 1930. "We're going to have to call your dad and find out his grandparents' names," I explained. I called my son-in-law on their cell phone as they were driving home -- probably scaring the tarnation out of them. I explained the situation and John told me his grandparents were named David and Madeline Bennington--from Loveland, Ohio. He wasn't sure when they were born but I did some calculations and figured they were probably born around the turn of the century -- perfect for my granddaughter's first foray into census research. Five minutes later she found them and was shrieking in delight, as if we just made the highest score in the history of some video game. I don't know how all this happened. Maybe there really is a genealogy gene. It bypassed my daughter (who always thought genealogy's best purpose was keeping dad preoccupied while she raided the refrigerator with one of her always-starving boyfriends) and hit my granddaughter square between the brain cells. It was the best two weeks of my life. Kirstie and I went to the Mid-Continent Library in Independence, Missouri, and I showed her how to search the microfilms and the 'fiche cabinets (she'd get me laughing because she never asked to go with me to the library -- she'd tell her Granma, "Granddad and I are going fiching today") and my gosh, my granddaughter loves books. Thank You! ONE in my family has my love of books. I cheated at first; giving her research assignments I already knew were there but as the days wore on I began giving her a few toughies. She is a dedicated researcher. Younger eyes don't tire nearly as fast. And I forgot how much fun it is to run out of the library at noon and grab a Dairy Queen [soft ice cream]. When it was time for her to go back to her parents it was the first time I didn't joke with Aimee and David that "the nice thing about being a grandparent is you get to send them home when it's time." It was way too soon for me. And now there is a new sign above my computer station. It says simply "The Genealogy Library of Chuck and Dixie Elledge and Kirstie Marie Healey." I don't need to write a book. I've helped create an historian. ................................. Previously published in RootsWeb Review: Vol. 6, No. 42, 15 October 2003.