Wednesday, 7 May 2014
Don't forget your roots my friend.
This is our trip to Newcastle over the long weekend. My Dad's family are from this town named Cramlington before my grandparents made the huge voyage on a ship across to New Zealand in 1950. Nana and Granda had 13 children. Their third child was born here but sadly passed away when just over a month old and is buried here. See our photo with Carole Christine's headstone. Dad was the next born after her hence his name Carroll Christopher. This church is St John the Baptist in Cramlington where Carole is buried and also where my great grandparents and grandparents were married and my dad was baptized. We were lucky enough to meet the priest of the church. He said the church is quite new and built by a wealthy lady who converted to Catholicism for 7,000 pounds at the beginning of the 1900s. We were also searching for the grave of my Dad's Aunty Olive and the priest actually remembers her well but she was buried at another graveyard. However between Ella, Rich and myself searching the two graveyards we couldn't find her. So that was a little sad for us. We also drove by the houses that my grandparents, great grandparents and my dad lived. Quite an emotional journey for us and so wonderful to get so close to our special heritage. I am left wondering what life was like here for the first half of the 20th century especially through two world wars. It must have been challenging. xoxo
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My emotions overrule me Rebecca each time I see these pics or reflect on you and the kiddies visiting this wonderful place of my birth and the playground of so many of our ancestors. I often wonder just how different life may have been had Carole Christine lived, and I often see myself searching for her identity - I'm sure she would have been just as beautiful as my three daughters. On such occasions as your visitation the spirits of the whanau are very much awakened. You now bring a sense of 'closure' to a chapter in the Kingston ancestral story. Now the next generation will take up the crusade in search of their roots in the knowledge that their forebears walked the same ground before them. Aroha nui. Dad
ReplyDeleteWhat an emotional journey, I didn't realise your whanau were so fresh to NZ! How incredible for your entire family for you to tread where your ancestors once did, and to speak to a priest who recalls your family members, amazing.
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