As a young child my grand aunt often told me stories about her youth. She was in her seventies at
Last edited Wed Sep 6, 2017, 03:33 PM - Edit history (1)
the time and I was seven or eight. One of the life events she shared with me were the deaths of her younger brothers. She was born in 1881 and her siblings Robert and John were born in 1883 and 1885 respectively. They boys were inseparable as they grew.
On a cold December day they decided to go ice skating on a local pond. Although the ice was solid on the perimeter it couldn't bear their weight near the center. The ice under Robert cracked as they skated toward the middle of the pond. Robert plunged into the freezing water. John dove in to save his older brother. Somehow John was able to push Robert out of the water but was unable to get out himself. John drowned.
Robert was taken to the hospital near death. He suffered a number of complications from the experience including chronic pleurisy. He died 15 months later.
I remember my aunt always wept when she told me about Robert and John saying how much she missed them, even as she neared death herself.
I had forgotten many of the things she told me, but the story about her brothers stayed with me.
Recently I had a DNA analysis done and as a result began researching my family history. In doing so I located the graves of my long lost grand uncles who are all but forgotten.
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one brother and one sister were left.
My grandmother's grandmother had 14 children, but only 6 lived to adulthood - all boys. My great grandfather was the eldest. And one of them committed suicide, my grandmother remembers it, though she was a child. And that uncle left behind three children. The eldest, a girl, was raised by her - and my grandmother's - grandmother. She didn't know what happened to the boys. 
And all those babies who died were buried in the family plot in the local cemetery. My grandmother used to take me there, all those little stones in a row. Her job when she was a kid was to keep the family plot mowed. The twins, Robert and LeRoy, shared a single stone. My grandmother's own mother died when she was 13 so she spent a lot of time with her grandmother, looked after her when she got old. So many sad stories, but my grandmother was the strongest and most upbeat person I've ever known. 
Because you remember them even if you never met them. That's lovely. 
... that their love for each other is a story that so many people are hearing about now, more than a century later.
They aren't forgotten, that's for sure. 
Parents, two brothers, and two sisters. My great-uncle (the brother of my grandmother) came and cared for them all, around the clock, and saved their lives. My mother was seven years old at the time, and she spoke of her Uncle Ruel with the greatest love and respect. He later moved to Kentucky and lost touch with the family. I never met him, but I'd love to hook up with some of his descendants some day, just to express gratitude. I live in the old house where this took place, all those years ago. Families are truly wonderful things.
I joined several years ago - added my father. But I've found even close relatives listed there, someone even posted an obituary that I wrote! I found my grandfather listed there - he died very young, when my Dad was a child, so I never met him. But there was a copy of a document about his military service, qualifying him for a military marker, and I recognized my grandmother's handwriting! It's amazing - people add information for people they never knew, that's their hobby. 
Great site. I've traced my father's maternal ancestry back to 1825 utilizing it!
I can relate... I never thought I would consider DNA analysis but just sent my kit in... I did so after finding an old photo of my Grandfather who drowned in Lake Champlain when my Dad was just a baby... my Grandfather looks just like Anthony Scaramucci in the photo- dark hair, dark eyes, dark complexion- actually very handsome... his parents came directly from Denmark and all the rest of us look nothing like him... very suspicious
