Digging for Buried Treasure

A few years ago, a cousin of mine, on my Mother's side, traced the Finch family back to 1630. She even discovered the name of the ship that came over ten years after the Mayflower. Quite impossibly, my Father thinks he is the last Bush of his line. All the clues we have are some names that go back only three generations. See, Pop's Pa died [ 7/31/30 ] when he was only four years old. After his tragic and unexpected death, my Grandmother lost track of his side of the family. Grandma was 36 when Pop was born -- an old maid -- for the time, and a member of a group of "unclaimed blessings" just like her. When Pop was born [ 3/22/26 ] he was surrounded by a group of eyes that kept him in line. But he was willful and stubborn, like he is now, and gave his Mother many causes for concern.

Last year I discovered at a genealogy workshop that my local historical society offered free access to Ancestry.com along with membership. I also was made aware of several other online resources, including fultonhistory.com  This archive of old newspaper articles has yielded many important clues, the most unexpected and insightful was the discovery of three letters published in the Amsterdam Evening Recorder that were authored by my Great-Uncle Lt. Herbert J. Bush in 1917 and sent to his Mother in Amsterdam from "Somewhere in France". I cannot describe the feeling of happiness and jubilation and incredulity all rolled into one to see these in print. We had no idea these existed.

All of my life, there have been no stories to tell of my father's family, no clues and few papers to flesh out details of a personality, few achievements except for military records and his artwork. But silence is no more. History speaks. Census records tell me a story I never knew. They were just waiting for someone to find them, and to discover some of the details of lives of family we are proud of; the Civil War enlistee with babies at home who deserted and went back to his family and farm, the three Bush brothers given up to the Great War by Father Charles and Mother Mary, the silk handkerchief my great-aunt Grace asked her brother Herbert to bring her from France, the gratitude of the French people to the American soldiers at Chateau-Thierry. These things are all part of American history, and they are part of the history of my own family, the Bush family.

In these last few months of searching online, I have been to three cemeteries with family stones. This summer I may try taking some rubbings, and hope my sister will help me try to clean some delicate stones where loved ones are interred. The journey was worth it many times over. And my Father has found his family, at last.