The beginning of "the book".

I would like to introduce you to a historical fiction book that I have written, "Great-Grandma's Trunk."  It is based upon the life of my Great-Grandmother, Emma Pequegnat, who was eight years old when she emigrated with family, from Loveresse, Switzerland, to America in 1869.  I am the "keeper" of the trunk they used for packing their bare essentials while making the Atlantic crossing.  This trunk traveled with Emma throughout her life, and was among her possessions when she died in 1940.  This is not a pretty truck, such as found in antique stores.  It is handcrafted, wooden, and sturdy, and is now covered with scratches and dents.  The truck was well used, and most likely used to store Emma's wedding dress, baby clothes, quilts, and bric-a-brac.

My husband and I are "genealogy junkies."  When I started researching my Pequegnat line, I was very fortunate to have the services of a fellow genealogist in Switzerland.  He traveled to the village of Loveresse and was able to copy the birth, marriage, and death records from the Town Hall Archives for Emma Pequegnat's family tree.  So, I have the family traced back into the 1700's.

In July 2001 I took a trip to Europe with my friend, Linda Haney.  Our goal was to see the home villages of our ancestors in Germany and Switzerland.  Oh, all right, so we also did a little sightseeing and took in a couple of German festivals.  We were delighted with the quaint village of Loveresse, perched on a hillside, located in the French speaking portion of Switzerland--close to the border of France.  We drove through the narrow streets and had lunch on the outside veranda of an ancient hotel, overlooking the valley below.  The old schoolhouse where Emma would have attended school was next door--now used as the Town Hall.  We tried to find the village church, and finally spotted it half way down the hillside.   Upon entering the church parking lot, we discovered that a funeral was about to take place.  The church itself was ancient, built in 1739.  I succeeded in taking pictures of the outside, but, because of the funeral we did not care to go inside.  So, we headed for the cemetery.  (This is something all genealogists do!)  I spotted the tombstone of a relative, Ernest Pequegnat.  We noticed a very old lady nearby--scarf over her head and curved back.  She was watching us closely as she watered flowers on a grave.  I tried to ask her if she knew of any other Pequegnats buried in that cemetery, but she only spoke French.  So, I resorted to sign language--pointing to Ernest's tombstone.  She became very animated, took ahold of my arm and pointed to my watch like she was moving the minute hand five minutes ahead, then pointed to the church.  She said the name "Pequegnat" several times.  I could feel the hair raise on the back of my neck as I realized what she was trying to tell me.  The funeral was for the wife of Ernest!!  We confirmed this information with the parking lot attendant.  No, we did not attend the funeral services.  We had been spotted as American tourists, cameras around the neck and all, and did not want to interrupt this solemn occasion.

Well, that amazing coincidence threw me for a loop!  Linda and I talked about it the rest of the trip.  When I got home I realized I needed to do more research.  I wanted to know what it was like, back in 1869, and why our ancestors chose to be uprooted from a secure homeland and travel to a part of the world with a foreign language and different customs.  What was it like to cross the storm tossed Atlantic?   I sent to the National Archives for the ship's manifest, and located a picture of their ship along with a complete description of it. 

That was just the beginning, but this will have to be continued in my next blog post.