I moved to Alabama in 2008, but all my life, I knew my grandmother and her family were from Mississippi and that my mom was born there. When I was younger, my parents always had two flags on their camper... an American Flag and a Rebel flag to show that one of them was raised in the north and one was raised in the south. She was outnumbered by Yankees in our family though as we were all born in the north except my sister, she was born in Key West, so she didn't count as a Rebel, it was like it's own little world in Florida. She was proud of her heritage, and it was a way to break the ice when they were out camping and exploring new people and places. When I would start talking to people about family history research the questions that I would always hear from people were, "Oh? Who's your Kin? Where are they from?" I would promptly hang my head as I would explain that while I don't have kin here, I do have kin in the south and that my mom was southern raised. Because, lets face it. What they really wanted to know was; was I a southerner by birth? Did I call them PEEcans or PAKahns? Did I eat Corn Bread or the abomination sweet corn bread? Did I drink Sweet Tea or that horrid northern Iced Tea with sugar granules that never dissolved? Which team was I about to root for would determine where my loyalty lies and if I could be trusted or not. It wasn't really about where I was born or raised, but if I was going to eat properly and not root for someone outside the SEC... As I got further along in my research of my family lines, the migration lines and patterns all started to appear. I grew in knowledge and in research. Eventually, I realized that several of my family lines from the NC/SC area were migrating in to southern Tennessee and Northern Alabama before they ended up in South Alabama and Mississippi. It was fascinating to learn that I had cousins and xGreat grand uncles and aunts who were living just miles from my current home 100-150 years ago. I began to see things differently. I may be walking on the same street they walked on. I may see a view that they once saw. About a year ago, I found that one of those ancestors was a prominent man in the early years of the town I currently live in. It was rather shocking to me to realize that I was actually native "by blood" even if a few generations moved away for a while. I had "come home". And just this week, I discovered that the children and sons/daughters in-law of that same man, married other prominent families that founded this town. People these streets are named for are married to my families. Their children are my actual cousins. The place I live is steps away from their homesteads. The research into civil war skirmishes and men who owned businesses here are all related to my family too. The names I have been reading about for 11 years now are MY kin. I'm legit. I'm a native by blood. When I moved here, I purchased a hat that I thought I would wear all around until people would stop asking me who my kin was. It says, "Yankee by Birth, Rebel by heart". Somewhere in heaven, my mom is waving that Rebel flag, proud to know we found our ancestors and we're home.
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AuthorMichele is an obsessed mother of 4 residing in North Alabama. Hobbies include long walks in the woods, on the beach and in strange cemeteries and libraries. Genealogy friends need only apply. Categories
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