In the Beginning.... there was Ancestry.Com (and Light)

Growing up, I have to admit, I always felt a bit superior with my “knowledge” that my mother’s side of the family (Likers & Goslaks) were all from Czechoslovakia, and my father’s side (Butlers & Oberdicks) were Irish. While so many of my neighbors and friends were true American “mutts” with more countries in their family histories than they could recount, I felt special knowing that I was only 50/50; My friends would be saying “I’m Irish, and Scottish, and Pennsylvania Dutch, and Polish, and Austrian, and a little bit Russian…” I always sat there internally smug with the knowledge that *I* was more “pure” than they were, since I was only half Slovak and half Irish.
Honestly, I can’t tell you where that sense of self-important “ethnic purity” came from. Don’t get me wrong…. I was never judging the other kids based on their ethnic histories. I couldn’t have cared less where their blood originated, so long as they didn’t act like an asshole at the bus stop in the morning.
I just always felt that I was less of a “mutt” than they were.
I, quite possibly, may have been horribly horribly mistaken. We shall see……

I have always identified very strongly with my Irish heritage especially; it has become a strong basis for my own personal sense of Self. Although clearly American (and I did find that the more I traveled abroad, the more I felt distinctly American), I always considered myself a Guinness & whiskey-drinking, step-dancing, lover-of-their-land, The Chieftains-loving, magic-believing Irish gal!

I have always been intrigued by my family lineage and history. Back in 6th grade, I had to do a school project that required me to draw a family tree on one side of my family and write an essay about our “Story.” I remember asking my grandmother and my great-aunt about their family and where they came from, and one of them telling me rather emphatically that their parents came over from Czechoslovakia to Pittsburgh on the train at the turn of the century. Have you ever tried to track down passenger manifest records from trains entering the US at Ellis Island??? Trust me…. It is a Sisyphean task, to say the least.

Since then, I have been intrigued and curious about my family history. Well, to be perfectly honest, I was Half-Assed Intrigued. (meaning: I found it all very interesting so long as *I* wasn’t the one who had to actually do any of the research. I just wanted to know the fascinating stories!)
Today, I am 32 and very comfortable and secure in who I am and in what my “family” means to me. For some reason, I am also suddenly obsessively driven to really find out where I came from. I want names and places and dates, but more importantly, I want to know WHY they came here and WHO they were.

For the record, I went to college for Theatre; I am painfully unqualified to undertake the task of in-depth historical and genealogical research.
Still….. Here I go. [Cue Overly Dramatic Drum Roll]

As I begin this investigative process, I hope to discover:

• Why my ancestors immigrated to America
  
• Where exactly they came from
  
• At least one or two fascinating stories about distant relatives
  
• Proof of some gutsy and intriguing women in my lineage
  
• A king or queen or two in my family line wouldn't hurt. I'm just sayin'...

To be perfectly honest and fair, I also have to admit to the fact that I am hoping that I don’t find that:

• My ancestors are nothing more than boring, insensitive, pathetic drunks
  
• My relatives were Nazis
  
• I’m not who I always thought I was.

…And so we begin this journey. As I said before, I WAS a theatre major, so you’ll have to forgive me if I occasionally favor the artistic revisionist history to the dull truth or put a bit too much emphasis on a brilliantly dramatic entrance or exit……………………

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