my morning with the mormons
On Saturday, I spent some time with the Mormons. I thought maybe God would strike me dead for pulling into the parking lot while listening to the Notre Dame game on the radio, but I made it in unscathed. Ok, so I was only going to the attached Family History Center, but still—it's Mormon ground. I often go to the FHC to request microfilm from SLC or look at the books and film they already have there. Say what you will about the Mormons, but dang...those people can keep some records!
It took me some time, initially, to work up the courage to go to the FHC. I know that sounds silly but I have issues with religion and churches (period) as well as a general dislike for going into places I've never been. I read all the FAQs about the FHCs, the first of which is "Do I have to listen to your Church missionaries if I visit the family history center?" The answer is "No, but you're welcome to ask questions if you see one." Whew! I've never heard any religious discussion during any of the times I've been there. In fact, I'd venture to guess that the only actual church members in the center at any given time are the two people staffing it. Regardless, I'm always the youngest one in there...usually folks are over sixty, or at least look it. They seem to get a kick out of me. Then again, who wouldn't? (I'm kidding about that.)
I research the family history of myself and four friends, and we all have vastly different backgrounds. I have this goal of finding a common ancestor between all my closest friends, so I can say things like "You're my 24th cousin 10 times removed." So far, no luck. But I'm only a few years into it, so I'm holding out hope.
(Incidently, if any reader wants to know what their families looked like in the census records from 1850 to 1930, let me know. It's great fun (or really depressing) to see the occupations of people and rents paid/home values in 1930.)
