The Ancestral Pen

  Stuck in the Middle (With You) Writing is romantic. Editing is war. And this week, the battle's been rough. I’m deep in the editing phase of book two in the Woolsey series, and I’ll be honest, this part is my least favorite. The first draft felt like a victory—getting William’s journey from beginning to end, pulling together all the historical threads, and weaving in the real genealogy behind it. That part  felt  like a win. But now I’m knee-deep in what I call the  scene surgery stage . It’s where I go line by line, digging out all the places where I was telling instead of showing. My first drafts are heavy on chronology—what happened and when—because I want to make sure the family story is honored as accurately as possible. But in this round, I have to turn dry facts into moments that  feel  alive. That means cutting. Rewriting. Doubting myself. Putting a scene back the way it was. Then rewriting it again. It’s a spiral of second-guessing that coul...

  "Did your mom speak Romani, and were your mom and dad both gypsy?" The question from my newly discovered cousin, Rhonda Krug, stopped me cold. After fifteen years of tracing my ancestors, I thought I had uncovered every family secret. But this? This was something I never saw coming. My second-great-grandmother, Rachel Mason Roe, had always been one of my more puzzling ancestors. Born around 1863, she appeared in records with frustrating inconsistencies—different birth years, various spellings of her name, and conflicting information about her origins. When I discovered the 1910 census claiming she was "half Chippewa Indian" born in Canada, my mother and I thought we'd finally found the answer to our unknown heritage on that side of the family. But those inconsistencies that had frustrated me for years suddenly made perfect sense once I understood the truth: Rachel wasn't Native American at all. She was Romani. The Records That Didn't Add Up Rache...

  Born August 24, 1862, in Warren County, Kentucky Died September 15, 1909, in Bradley, Grady County, Oklahoma Helen Fannie Burnett's life embodied the restless spirit of late 19th-century America, when families packed their belongings into wagons and chased opportunities across an expanding frontier. Born during the Civil War in the rolling hills of Kentucky, she would die nearly half a century later in the red dirt of Oklahoma Territory, her journey marking the path of a nation pushing ever westward. Kentucky Roots Helen entered the world on August 24, 1862, as the daughter of John Burnett and Mary Jane Tygrett in Warren County, Kentucky. She was part of a large family that would eventually include siblings James Wood, Charlie Cooper, Augustus, Charlotte, Lulie, Warner Thomas, Phillip (who died young), Blanch, and Shelly. Growing up in the post-Civil War South, Helen experienced the challenges of Reconstruction firsthand. By 1880, at age 17, Helen was still living as a sing...

"It started like a spark — hot, irresistible, impossible to ignore. But sparks burn out fast… and the ashes leave scars." When I wrote  His Greatest Regret , I wanted to explore what happens when grief and longing push two people together — not because they’re ready, but because they’re lonely, human, and aching to feel alive again. Richard and Charlotte’s love was never meant to last. It began as a spark: a widow and a widower, each carrying their own grief, finding an unexpected comfort in one another. What started as warmth grew into a fire that neither of them could control — and that fire left behind ashes that scarred everyone it touched. Most of all, it scarred William — the child born of that spark — who would carry the weight of Richard’s choices for the rest of his life. (William’s story comes next month — but you’ll need to catch up on what came before.) 🔥 Excerpt: Charlotte stood before the shop, her arms wrapped around an enormous flour sack that threatened to s...

Photo shared by Glenda Owen on Ancestry.com My fourth great-grandfather,  Tillman Williamson "T.W." Graham  (1817-1893), was a man perpetually in motion, chasing opportunity across three states during one of America's most transformative periods. But his story also serves as a perfect reminder of why careful record analysis matters in genealogy, because sometimes those convenient Ancestry leaf hints can lead us astray if we're not paying attention. From Tennessee Roots to Texas Dreams Born on May 15, 1817, near Nunnley in Hickman County, Tennessee, T.W. started life in the established settlements of middle Tennessee. By 1841, he had married Jency Jane Williams in Perry County, and their first son, Charles Granville, arrived in 1843. But Tennessee couldn't hold this restless pioneer for long. By 1846, the young family had packed up and headed for the promise of Texas, settling first in Cass County. This wasn't just a casual move—T.W. was investing in land, ...

  Sometimes our ancestors seem to emerge from the historical records like ghosts, leaving only breadcrumbs of their existence scattered across decades and state lines. Willie Marion Crooks was one of those restless souls—a man perpetually in motion, chasing opportunities across the American frontier as the 19th century gave way to the 20th. Born on October 18, 1876, in Hill County near Hillsboro, Texas, Willie entered a world still raw from Reconstruction. His parents, Bolivar Houston Crooks and Martha G. Thomas, were raising their large family in the heart of rural Texas, where cotton fields stretched to the horizon and the frontier was still a living reality rather than a romantic memory. A Texas Childhood The 1880 census captures four-year-old Willie as simply another child in the Crooks household—one of many siblings, including brothers John Porter, General Grant, Daniel H., Guy Melton, and sisters Sudi, Julia, Maggie Delana, and Sarah Jane. His father, Bolivar, worked the ...