It’s been a while since I posted, but I have been very busy researching parts of the line, and it occurred to me that I could talk about some of the ongoing research so that anyone interested can see the progress, or possibly even make a contribution! A family history is never static and is more likely to flourish when treated as a collaborative effort rather than an individual pursuit. So here goes……the puzzles that are currently consuming me Feel free to jump in any time!!
It’s the start of a new year, and with that I have decided to take another look at the problematic William TURNER of Caversham - husband of Miss Anne WELLSs, GGG Grandfather to my Grandfather Ted, and progenitor of the Caversham and Winslow TURNERS.
William’s marriage was solemnized at St. Peter’s Church in Caversham, Oxfordshire on 25 September 1769. The entry in the parish register transcription had (…more)
Family tradition holds that Frederick Turner, my British Great-Grandfather Leonard’s only brother, was killed in action in India during World War I. Adding charm to the story that I heard frequently as a child was the idea that Leonard, distraught over his brother’s death and wishing to honor his memory, decided to drop his own given name and assume his dead brother’s, both in day to day living as well as on legal documents. Although my Grandfather and his sisters never knew their Uncle, they did know the story of his heroic death and grew up thinking of their father as “Frederick” L. Turner.
The notes from my earliest attempts at recording my British genealogy reflect this family lore, however as my own research began to reveal more of the details of the Turner brothers’ lives, the accuracy of the story came into question.
I knew from my grandfather’s (…more)
For me, as I suspect for many, the tracing of my roots began simply,with a curiosity to know where I came from and a conversation with an older relative. I was 13. A few hastily scribbled notes based on family remembrance may or may not have proven to be accurate, but at least it was a start.
Although my English grandparents lived a continent away and I saw them only once every year or so, they seem to have found my interest in the past somewhat entertaining, and were always willing to share another story, or dig out an old photograph or two. Summer visits would invariably include a trek out to an old cemetary or, if I was really lucky, I could persuade Granddad to walk over to Delapre Abby and sit with me for an hour or two while I pored over old documents in the records office.
I took my (…more)