I’ve started researching my tree in 2015 to learn about my Hungarian side before traveling there. One of the hilites of this journey was finding the small village my great grandmother and grandmother came from. To walk the same streets and to have the same views as they did is indescribable. I have been bit by the bug. I am fully addicted and love researching and learning about all my extended family. My roots run very deep in the DMV. If any of my research can help you I’d be happy to help. Also if any of my research has any flaws in it please let me know.
Happy Hunting!!!!

The following poem was written by Walter Butler Palmer in 1906.

Dear Grandfather,
Your tombstone now stands among the rest;
Neglected and alone.
The name and date are chiseled out on polished marbled stone.
It reaches out to all who care,
It is too late to mourn.
You did not know that I exist,
You died and I was born.
Yet each of us are cells of you
In flesh and blood and bone.
Our heart contracts and beats a pulse,
Entirely not our own.
Dear Grandfather, the place you filled
One hundred years ago,
Spreads out among the ones you left,
Who would have loved you so.
I wonder how you lived and loved,
I wonder if you knew,
That someday I would find this spot,
And come and visit you.

I’ve started researching my tree in 2015 to learn about my Hungarian side before traveling there. One of the hilites of this journey was finding the small village my great grandmother and grandmother came from. To walk the same streets and to have the same views as they did is indescribable. I have been bit by the bug. I am fully addicted and love researching and learning about all my extended family. My roots run very deep in the DMV. If any of my research can help you I’d be happy to help. Also if any of my research has any flaws in it please let me know.
Happy Hunting!!!!

The following poem was written by Walter Butler Palmer in 1906.

Dear Grandfather,
Your tombstone now stands among the rest;
Neglected and alone.
The name and date are chiseled out on polished marbled stone.
It reaches out to all who care,
It is too late to mourn.
You did not know that I exist,
You died and I was born.
Yet each of us are cells of you
In flesh and blood and bone.
Our heart contracts and beats a pulse,
Entirely not our own.
Dear Grandfather, the place you filled
One hundred years ago,
Spreads out among the ones you left,
Who would have loved you so.
I wonder how you lived and loved,
I wonder if you knew,
That someday I would find this spot,
And come and visit you.