Asking why one seeks out one’s ancestors is similar to going inside a cave when the weather outside the cave is warm and sunny. You realize it’s going to be dark and damp on the inside and though it doesn’t make sense, the impulse strikes, your curiosity peaks and into the cave you go. The catalyst for my first journey into my family’s history was the death of my Father at his age of 80. Having been with my Dad when he died, I told those who asked that he had lived a good life and he had experienced a good death. In retrospect, how did I know it was a good death? As I sat with him and the rest of my family, while he died, I could only hope it was a good death. We did all we could to make him comfortable and made certain he wasn’t alone. When he died, I became the oldest male in the family and realized if there were going to be any records kept of my family’s genealogy it was going to be up to me.