GUILFORD COUNTY, NORTH CAROLINA
~ Quotes & Humor ~
These are quotations and humorous writings which travel around the internet, and I like to collect them when I see them. I decided to share them with you, so you can take a break from your research and regain your sense of humor after beating your head against your family brick walls for a while. The rights to these are owned by their authors. Please feel free to suggest additional material for this page.
He boasts nor wealth nor high descent, yet he may claim to be
A gentleman to match the best of any pedigree:
His blood hath run in peasant veins through many a noteless year;
Yet, search in every prince's court, you'll rarely find his peer.
For he's one of Nature's Gentlemen, the best of every time.Nature's Gentleman, Stanza I,
by William James Linton [1812-1898]
"One owes respect to the living. To the dead, one owes only the truth."
~ Voltaire ~ a philosopher and writer (1694-1778) ~
"She is now in Heaven with her Lord
after being in Hell with her husband on earth."~ on the Winchester, Virginia, tombstone of a woman whose sons were acknowledging what she suffered as an abused wife; it is good that they recognized it for what it was ~
The Census Taker It was the first day of census, and all through the land,
The pollster was ready...a black book in hand....
He mounted his horse for a long, dusty ride,
His book and some quills were tucked close by his side.
A long, winding ride down a road barely there,
Toward the smell of fresh bread wafting, up through the air.
The woman was tired, with lines on her face,
She gave him some water as they sat at the table,
And she answered his questions the best she was able.
He asked of her children....Yes, she had quite a few,
The oldest was twenty, the youngest not two.
She held up a toddler with cheeks round and red;
His sister, she whispered, was napping in bed.
She noted each person who lived there with pride,
And she felt the faint stirrings of the wee one inside.
He noted the sex, the color, the age;
The marks from the quill soon filled up the page.
At the number of children, she nodded her head,
And he saw her lips quiver for the three that were dead.
The places of birth she "never forgot";
Was it Kansas? or Utah? or Oregon.... or not?
They came from Scotland, of that she was clear;
But, she wasn't quite sure just how long they'd been here.
They spoke of employment, of schooling and such;
They could read some, and write some, though really not much.
When the questions were answered, his job there was done,
So he mounted his horse and he rode toward the sun.
We can almost imagine his voice loud and clear,
"May God bless you all for another ten years".Now picture a time warp....it's now you and me.
As we search for the people on our family tree.
We squint at the census and scroll down so slow,
As we search for that entry from long, long ago.
Could they only imagine on that long-ago day,
That the entries they made would affect us this way?
If they knew, would they wonder at the yearning we feel,
And the searching that makes them so increasingly real?
We can hear, if we listen, the words they impart,
Through their blood in our veins and their voice in our heart.Author Unknown......
from a Rootsweb mailing list posting
"She is insane, of course. The family history has become a mania for her."
~ Hercule Poirot ~
a fictional Belgian detective and well-known character in many Agatha Christie mystery books
LOSING PERSPECTIVE
An elderly lady I met yesterday said she heard someone say this with all seriousness: "We had to marry our cousins; otherwise we would have had to marry beneath us."
posting on VA-Southside-L mailing list
There were four kinds of people in the United Kingdom -
First, there were the Scots who kept the Sabbath - and everything else they could lay their hands on;
Then there were the Welsh - who prayed on their knees and their neighbours;
Thirdly there were the Irish who never knew what they wanted - but were willing to fight for it anyway.
Lastly there were the English who considered themselves self-made men - thus relieving the Almighty of a terrible responsibility.
My family tree has deep roots, many branches, lots of twigs, and a few nuts!
from a Rootsweb mailing list
HOW MANY ANCESTORS DO YOU HAVE? Only
1 YOU
2 parents
4 grandparents
8 great grandparents
16 gg grandparents
32 ggg grandparents
64 gggg grandparents
128 ggggg grandparents
256 gggggg grandparents
512 ggggggg grandparents
1,024 gggggggg grandparents
2,048 ggggggggg grandparents
4,096 gggggggggg grandparents
8,192 ggggggggggg grandparents
16,184 gggggggggggg grandparents
32,768 ggggggggggggg grandparents
65,536 gggggggggggggg grandparents
131,072 ggggggggggggggg grandparents
262,144 gggggggggggggggg grandparents
524,288 ggggggggggggggggg grandparents
1,048,576 gggggggggggggggggg grandparents
2,097,152 ggggggggggggggggggg grandparentsIs it any wonder that we spend so much time on genealogy?
HOW YOU KNOW YOU'RE AN ADDICTED GENEALOGIST
You're addicted...
* ...when you brake for libraries;
* ...if you get locked in a library overnight and you never even notice;
* ...when you hyperventilate at the sight of an old cemetery;
* ...if you'd rather browse in a cemetery than a shopping mall;
* ...when you think every home should have a microfilm reader;
* ...if you'd rather read census schedules than a good book;
* ...when you know every town clerk in your state by name;
* ...if town clerks lock the doors when they see you coming;
* ...when you're more interested in what happened in 1697 than 1997;
* ...if you store your clothes under the bed and your closet is carefully stacked with notebooks and journals;
* ...if you can pinpoint Harrietsham, Hawkhurst and Kent on a map of England, but can't locate Topeka, Kansas;
* ...when all your correspondence begins, "Dear Cousin";
* ...if you've traced every one of your ancestral lines back to Adam and Eve, have it all fully documented, and still don't want to quit.
WARNING: GENEALOGY POX! VERY CONTAGIOUS! SYMPTOMS: Continual complaint as to need for names, dates and places. Patient has a blank expression and is sometimes deaf to spouse and children. Has no taste for work of any kind except feverishly looking through records at libraries and courthouses. Has compulsion to write letters. Swears at the mailman when he doesn't leave mail. Frequents strange places, such as cemeteries, ruins, and remote desolate country areas. Makes secret night calls, hides phone bills, and mumbles to self. Has strange faraway look in eyes.
TREATMENT: Medication is useless. Disease is not fatal, but gets progressively worse. Patients with this disease should attend workshops, subscribe to genealogy journals, and be given a quiet corner in the house where they can be alone.
REMARKS: The unusual nature of this disease is: the sicker the patients get, the more they enjoy it.
ALAS, MY ELUSIVE KINSMAN Alas, my elusive kinsman,
You've led me quite a chase;
I thought I'd found your courthouse,
But the Yankees burned the place.
You always kept your bags packed,
Although you had no fame, and
Just for the fun of it
Twice you changed your name.
You never owned any land, or
At least I've found no bills.
In spite of eleven offspring
You never left a will.
They say our name's from Europe,
Came state side on a ship,
Either they lost the passenger list
Or granddad gave them the slip.
I'm the only one looking --
Another searcher I can't find.
I pray (maybe that's his father's name)
As I go out of my mind.
They say you had a headstone
In a shady plot.
I've been there twenty times, and
Can't even find the lot.
You never wrote a letter,
Your Bible we can't find,
It's probably in some attic
Out of sight and out of mind.
You first married a ....Smith,
And just to set the tone,
The other four were Sarah's
And everyone a Jones.
You cost me two fortunes,
One of which I don't have.
My wife, my house and Fido --
God, how I miss that yellow lab.
But somewhere you slipped up,
Ole boy; somewhere you left a track.
And if I don't find you this year,
Well....Next year I'll be back.(original poem by Wayne Hand, 1999 - printed in the Guilford County Genealogical Society newsletter of October 2000)
MURPHY’S LAWS OF GENEALOGY (1)... The document containing evidence of the missing line in your research invariably will be lost due to fire, flood, or war.
(2)... The keeper of the vital records you need will just have been insulted by another genealogist.
(3)... Your great-grandfather's obituary states that he died leaving no issue of record.
(4)... The town clerk to whom you write in desperation, and who is finally convinced to give you the information you need, can't write legibly and doesn't have a copy machine.
(5)... The will you need is in a safe aboard the Titanic.
(6)... The spelling of your European ancestor's name bears no relationship to its current spelling or pronunication.
(7)... The ancient photograph of four relatives, one of whom is your progenitor, carries only the names of the other three.
(8)... Copies of old newspapers have holes which occur only on last names.
(9)... No ancestor in your family tree ever did anything noteworthy, purchased property instead of renting it, was sued, or was named in estates or wills.
(10)... You just learned that Great-Aunt Matilda's executor sold her life collection of family genealogical material to a flea market dealer "somewhere in New York City."
(11)... Yours is the only last name not found among the three billion in the World's Famous Mormon Archives in Salt Lake City.
(12)... Ink fades and paper deteriorates at a rate inversely proportional to the value of the date recorded.
(13)... The 37-volume, sixteen-thousand page history of your county of origin isn't indexed.
(14)... The critical link in your family tree is named "SMITH."(Note: These "laws" have been printed in various genealogical sources many times, but the source is unknown.)
(on the subject of verifying source information instead of taking things at face value)
"If your mother tells you she loves you, CHECK IT OUT!"
~ from an internet forum ~
A GENEALOGIST'S HALLOWEEN Two genealogists were walking home after a Halloween party and decided to take a shortcut through the cemetery just for laughs.
Right in the middle of the cemetery they were startled by a tap-tap-tapping noise coming from the misty shadows.
Trembling with fear, they found an old man with a hammer and chisel, chipping away at one of the headstones.
"Holy cow, mister," one of them said after catching his breath, "You scared us half to death -- we thought you were a ghost! What are you doing working here so late at night?
"Those fools!" the old man grumbled. "They misspelled my name!"
A GENEALOGIST'S CHRISTMAS EVE 'Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even my spouse.The dining room table with clutter was spread
With pedigree charts and with letters which said ...
"Too bad about the data for which you wrote,
Sank in a storm on an ill-fated boat."Stacks of old copies of wills and the such
Were proof that my work had become too much.
Our children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugarplums danced in their heads.And I at my table was ready to drop,
From work on my album with photos to crop.
Christmas was here, and of such was my lot,
That presents and goodies and toys I'd forgot.Had I not been so busy with grandparents' wills,
I'd not have forgotten to shop for such thrills.
While others had bought gifts that would bring Christmas cheer,
I'd spent time researching those birth dates and years.While I was musing about my sad plight,
A strange noise on the lawn gave me such a great fright.
Away to the window I flew with a flash,
Tore open the drapes, and I yanked up the sash.When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but an over-stuffed sleigh and eight small reindeer.
Up to the house-top the reindeer they flew,
With a sleigh full of toys, and ole Santa Claus, too.And then with a twinkle, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of thirty-two hoofs.
The TV antenna was no match for their horns,
And look at our roof with hoof-prints adorned.As I drew in my head, and bumped it on the sash,
Down the cold chimney fell Santa -- KER-RASH !
"Dear" Santa had come from the roof in a wreck,
And tracked soot on the carpet. [ I could wring his short neck ! ]Spotting my face, good old Santa could see,
I had no Christmas spirit; you'd have to agree.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings. [ I felt like a jerk ! ]Here was Santa, who'd brought us such gladness and joy,
When I'd been too busy for even one toy.
He spied my research on the table all spread.
"A genealogist!" he cried. [ My face was all red ! ]Tonight I have met many like you, Santa grinned,
As he pulled from his sack a large book he had penned.
I gazed with amazement - the cover it read,
"Genealogy Lines for Which You Have Pled.""I know what it's like as a genealogy bug,"
He said as he gave me a great Santa hug.
"While the elves make a sleighful of toys I now carry,
I do some research in the North Pole Library !""A special treat I am thus able to bring,
To genealogy folks who can't find a thing.
Now off you go to your bed for a rest,
I'll clean up the house from this genealogy mess."As I climbed up the stairs full of gladness and glee,
I looked back at Santa who'd brought much to me.
While settling in bed, I heard Santa's clear whistle
To his team, which then rose like the down of a thistle.And I heard him exclaim as he flew out of sight,
"Family History is Fun ! Merry Christmas ! Goodnight !"Author Unknown
Now that you've had a break, it's time to get back to work! Good luck!
this page is part of: Guilford County North Carolina USGenWeb
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