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General => The Common Room => The Lighter Side => Topic started by: Meezer on Wednesday 17 April 13 23:24 BST (UK)
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A neighbour down the lane had a visit out of the blue today from two elderly ladies researching their family history. We're in North Yorkshire and one of the ladies was from Devon and the other from Tennessee. They had a diary from 1911 written by a 17 year old ancester who had been disgruntled at leaving a "lively" town to come and live in a "dreary, desolate old farmhouse"! They also had photographs of the family standing in the doorway. It was fascinating for the neighbour to see the pictures and read some of the diary and I think must have been great for the visitors too as I suspect that neither the look of the house nor the area have changed significantly in the last 100 years.
Has anyone else experienced a blast from the past like that?
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It's not happened to me but I was contacted by a very distant ancestor (via GenesR) who had turned up on the doorstep of a house in Cheshire where a mutual ancestor had lived. The owner took her in and gave her some old photos he'd found in the house of our ancestors which, obviously, he didn't want. The house had been modernised, but he had photos of what it used to be like before the builders started work on it. I liked the photos of the ancestors, my g.g.aunts and a daughter of one of them. The g.g.aunts were sisters of one of my g.grans so although I only have a photo of her aged about 12, I can imagine what she must have looked like as a middle aged lady. Little and dumpy if you're asking ???
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Not on my door step but
One night my phone rang but thinking it was more PPI, I let the answering machine get it,
then checked, it was a lady who said I am so and so your dad was my cousin, I have been told you have done a family tree,I am in my 80's and dont have one of them new fangled things so you can come and pick me up so that I can see it,lol,
Elaine
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I visited an ancestral church and left a message in the visitors book saying what names and left an address. My dad's second cousin and her husband turned up a few weeks later on our doorstep. We have remained good friends ever since.
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We live in an old vicarage and some years ago a young man from New Zealand rang the doorbell. He was related to one of the vicars who had lived there and wanted to take pictures and see round.We gave him a cup of coffee and he took his pictures. Haven't heard anything since, claytonbradley
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A few years ago we had a visit from an Australian couple who currently live in the US but who were on holiday in the UK. The lady was researching her family and her (several times) great grandmother was born in my house. She was pleased to be able to take photos and to chat with a fellow researcher, but the date of her ancestor's birth would, I think predate the current house which I estimate at a little less than 200 years. This was interesting for me as it suggests there was another dwelling here before this one. We had a long chat over cups of tea but I haven't heard from them again. (Maybe they didn't like the tea?)
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In about 1960, when my mother and I were living with my grandfather in the family home, an elderly man knocked at the door and said he was grandad's cousin. They had been close as boys, but Ernie went to Canada in 1905, and apart from coming home to serve in WW1, had not been back since. Apparently he went to the village pub to enquire if any of the family were still around, and was told that grandad was still in the same house.
They did keep in touch with us for some years, until they died. There were no children, so that was it. But I do have a photo of him with my mother outside the house.
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The lady that turned up on my doorstep and my father were the offspring of two first cousins born in 1913 and 1914. We had a family gathering a few years after where we met cousins from the Titshall family from as far away as Australia.
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My parents have had it happen twice, the fist time by a gushing American lady with family in tow, they were very nice, and her Gt Grandfather had lived there before the went to the USA so she just wanted to have a look at the old house.
When my parents left that house my Dad mounted the old door knob on a plinth and sent it to them as a gift - she was thrilled to think her Gt Grandfather had held it!
The second time was a different house, and we had an old carved oak fireplace.
This time a Canadian lady turned up on the doorstep, and said that her Grand father had lived there - and he had been the village carpenter, and had carved the old fireplace in the house - when she came in she touched the faces in the carving and burst into tears! Again, a lovely lady.
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I have found several collateral ancestors (ancestor siblings, cousins etc) who emigrated to America, Canada and Australia and I am researching them so one day I may get one distant cousin turn up on my doorstep with a Family Bible. :D
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I once lived in a very remote house in devon, It had been empty for about 12 years and was in a right old state. A single track road led to it and only two or three cars passed a day. One sunday a car went past, 2 minutes later went back the other way, then eventually came back, pulled in and the woman driving asked if it was the house that Miss Rocky lived in? It did belong to her once so the person was invited in, she had been an evacuee during ww2. We were treated to lots of stories about the house, the brother and sister that lived there, how the old chap had "shot" the front door when he put his shotgun down and that the old woman had taught the young evacuee to play the harmonium which set her on a path to be a life long musician. What a great way to spend a sunday afternoon :-)))
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I have not had anyone knocking on my door but I've been the one that's done the knocking ;D
The first time was on a visit to Dorking in Surrey where a great deal of my ancestors came from. One in particular leased a mill in nearby Westcott. I eventually found it & plucked up courage to ring the doorbell (it's now a VERY nice residence) I was about to walk away as there was no answer when a young man opened the door. Having explained what I was about & the arrival of his mother, I was treated to a tour & shown photo's of the old mill. What a thrill that was!
The second time was in Dorking itself where I had pin pointed the above ancestors house, an early Georgian house. It was being used as an office but, again, having explained my connections to the house to a bemused receptionist, I was given a tour & allowed to take photo's of the original rooms (it had been extended at some point) Because of my doorbell ringing I have wonderful images in my head of these two places that were so important to my ancestors :)
Jane
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Thats just reminded me Jane Masri;
as I live in Devon and half my family are in N Wales, my late aunt went and knocked on the door of the farm where someone I was looking into worked in the late 1800's and into the early 1900's. by the time she left, she had a studio photo of the man. sometimes you just have to be brave and try it
Griff
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I was looking for my great grandfather's family and so I researched his family in New Zealand working down the lines until the present day. I am in Australia. I thought if I rang them the worst they could do was to hang up. I rang, I told them the story and six months later visited Auckland to meet in person. My distant cousin showed me photos of my great x 2 grandfather and grandmother and even sent me a copy of it! Best times! People can be so nice :)
Tiki
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Great stories ;D
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Back in 1954, we were having a New Year's Eve party at my place.
Around 10 o'clock the doorbell rang and I answered it to find an unknown man on the doorstep.
He said "You must be Dawn" and when I agreed, he said "I'm your Uncle Bill"
I didn't at that stage know I had an uncle Bill! I called my Dad and the brothers who hadn't seen each other in years, were reunited. Sadly, that's the only time I ever saw Uncle Bill, who died in 1955. But at least I know his children and their families now. :) :) :) :)
Dawn M
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When I went to the graveyard to take the dead flowers off our family graves there was a note left on my aunt and uncle's. This couple had lived in England and he was English but she had insisted she was to buried with her parents in Ireland and so in time he had to join her.
The note was about his family so I put them in touch with my cousin in England.
The lady that left the note was only in Ireland to visit her husband's family, some of which are buried in that graveyard, last thing she expected was to find one of her relatives.
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Yes about 30 years ago a couple from Australia called to my parents house. They explained that their ancestor had been a subtenant on my fathers farm back in 1870s and wanted to know why they emigrated. My father had absolutely no idea. A few years later one of our family looked up Griffiths Valuation. All their information matched perfectly. It was one of reasons I m now into family hjstory. 8)
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Sort of like turning up on the doorstep...
I contacted an old school friend and arranged to visit her to catch up on old times. When she told me where she lived, I got the surprise of my life as she now lives in some converted farm buildings on the farm where my grandmother was born, and my g-grandfather was a tenant.
I have also discovered that a couple who once lived in the farm where the above grandmother actually grew up liked the name of it so much that they used the name for their winery in New Zealand. It's lovely wine!
Anne
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I went to take a photograph of an ancestral home for a relative in New Zealand where my great-great-grandmother was reared (was in the family until mid-1900s) and was invited by the current owner to see an old photo of it (before renovations). Inside I was introduced to his wife who looked at me rather strangely and said they'd heard all about me from her husband's cousin! Was totally puzzled until cousin's name was mentioned- a relative of my husband through his maternal grandmother. Thus, my husband's relative was living in a house formerly belonging to my relatives!
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Wow, what are the odds?
Jane
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Not exactly turning up on the doorstep, but 3years ago entirely by chance OH was out in the lane in front of our house when 2 chaps and their children had stoppped outside whilst passing on a walk.
The men were telling their children that they had lived in our house as boys.
OH realised exactly who they were and invited them in to look round. We bought the house in 1976 when the owners were divorcing- these chaps were the 2 little lads we vaguely remembered when viewing the house. They both confessed to having been "torn to pieces" by the move but were delighted to know it had always remained a family house which despite our many renovations still had many features which they remembered.
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I don't know how I'd feel about it, if someone just turned up on the doorstep. I certainly couldn't do it myself to anyone. I'm rather diffident about even writing to contact a relative I've "found" but don't actually know. I'm sure I'm missing out on a lot of possible information - but I still don't think I'd ever manage it.
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I would always be pretty wary of turning up on a strangers door step looking for information about a family tree. Especially in this day and age. I think the correct method of first contact should be a letter.
A couple of years ago in my town, a sheltered housing complex was targeted by a local scumbag druggie. She knocked on the doors of vulnerable old people saying that she was researching a family tree. Upon being hoodwinked and inviting this piece of filth inside, the handbag was robbed. It was in the local paper.
The worse thing was that this filth got simply fined and a few weeks later, she carried out exactly the same scam at another sheltered housing scheme. This time she was jailed for a year, out in six months and no doubt plotting the latest line in vileness to feed this filthy habit.
I did myself once knock on the door of an elderly former neighbour of a late relative. This lovely old lady did ask me in and although I am a genuine guy, I felt terrible for some reason. I was concerned that this lady could have been inviting in any sort! I just asked her a quick question, made my excuses and wrote to her a week later. We later met up in town a chatted for ages.
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yes flood 169 I would feel disturbed to be invited into a house.
The problem is that elderly people can be lonely and vulnerable.
Some years ago I worked for a catalogue company and was often invited in for tea when I called out of the blue.
On my travels saw double glazing cold callers diapearing into houses too!
sandra
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I purchased my home in 2004, a 200 year old flax millers cottage, river running in the front garden, the old stone ruins of the mill wheel house and all the stone built waterways, my 'neighbours' ( about 1 mile away) her xg grandfather had built the cottage, he was the miller and because of my interest I had asked her what history she knew about it, she gave me photo's of her aunt and grandmother outside the front of the cottage, at that time it was no longer thatched but with a 'riggerly tin' roof..so I set out to research its history and that of the local area....
A knock on the door one day from a couple from Australia who's aunt they said she had lived in the cottage, and the story went that she was a horse breeder, I had the deeds so looked on there as I knew it was owned by the same family who had built it, it turned out( after lots more research) she rented it and provided the horses for the wagon stop which is now two stone barns behind the property on a one track road with grass growing down the middle which is only used by the daily milk lorry and Steven who farms down the road, that road used to be the main Belfast to Dublin road. They had her accounts book which she also seemed to use as a diary writing in how many horses she supplied to the wagons in that month along with what was happening locally and a whole chunk of history was accounted for which later matched the many stories about the area I had been told by locals, it was great that a piece of the history was on the other side of the world and had found its way back to be reunited with my beloved 'cottage' with it 2' thick stone walls and now fully restored.
The stories these walls could tell which are no longer 'lost', written up and I have been busy producing them in pictorial textile hangings which decorate its walls, made from the flax grown and linen produced on its land as my contribution to a wonderful rich and diverse history of a very normal but very beautiful cottage.
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Though our own experience of meeting former residents was easily verifiable, I'd very much agree that caution should be exercised with people just turning up on the pretext of family research. (quite an alarmingly beguiling little scam)
If they just came knocking at the door, I think I'd ask them to give me their family details and arrange to contact them later- amidst my usual response to unknown callers: I always make much mention of my having dogs(plural) and sons ( plural) living in the house.
Though the chance to link up with anyone who had info about the house would be a real treat, I must say.
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I am the one who has done the knocking. I went armed with proof of who I was and certificates of whom had lived in the house. The lady was a little frosty at first but warmed up when she realised I was genuine and only wanted to take a photo of the house.
The funny thing was I only had a name for the house where my GGG grandfather lived in the early 1800's it now has a number and street name. It had taken me many months to find it by various avenues and dead ends.
Turned out I had walked down the street many times when visiting a friend who lives in the area ! ;D
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As my house was only built in 1979, I doubt anyone will come knocking to find out where their ancestors lived. ::)
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Not long after I moved into my current home, one night the outside sensor lights went on and I heard a woman's high heels coming up the drive. I opened the door to see her talking into her mobile phone, saying "Well I'm at the house now and they'd better tell me where she is, and let me see her!"
Then she saw me at the door and said, angrily "I'm here to get my daughter and you'd better bring her out to see me"
I said "I don't know who your daughter is. Why should she be here?"
Answer: "Isn't this 44 X street?"
reply: "No, it's 44 Y street. X street is one street back that way"
She looked quite put out and left without so much as a 'sorry', telling her caller that she was in the wrong street.
People!
Dawn M
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Idle dreaming of going back to where my ancestors lived I thought to look where a likely central place may be to stay. Of course lots of farmstays and B&B's but one struck my attention. Todd's Farmstay. Well it looked nice, rate seemed Ok, nice and central and sure had the right name. Hmm might email them and see how far ahead I needed to book. Email was returned with the correct information and a pleasant thank you for considering. Hum, nothing about the name coincidence! So I emailed back and asked their name, I only had christian names of husband and wife team. They asked why I had asked in a return with still no mention of their last name. I sent another and said why I was coming to the area to research my family history as a once in a lifetime event and thought it would be nice to stay somewhere that my family had possibly been. I got a terse reply that they knew no one of that name and didn't know why the place had the name, but they had owned it for the last 15 years and the last bloke wasn't a Todd either. I asked if they knew how old the place was as in the blurb about it it stated several hundred years old. I never got an answer. Pity, I would have liked to stay there. Or at least gone knocking on their door.
Neil :-\
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Not sure if I've told this story on here before - apologies if you've heard it.
During the war, my parents had a knock on the door. My Dad answered to be greeted by an American soldier who asked his name, and said "Hi - I'm your cousin". Turned out he was descended from my Dad's grandfather's sister who had left for the States in the 1880's after her husband's family farm had failed. As my Dad told it, I'm not sure there had been any contact since she left. They kept in touch, produced a family tree together (which started me off) and my parents later visited them in New York. From my research, the cousin was very likely to have been stationed at a base which was on, or adjacent to, his grandfather's family farm. Not sure if he knew.
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Some interesting stories here...I haven't had anyone knock on my door but when I went to St.John's Nfld to meet cousins and carry out family research I went to the house where my Father grew up...I knocked on the door and explained that I was over from England and this used to be my Father's family home and would he mind if I took some photographs...he told me to go ahead and then he shut the door :-\ I was hoping to get inside but I suppose there is a lot of mistrust these day...sad really.
Carol
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I've never had anyone turn up ,but I had to go to Occupational Health and the receptionist asked my address.She said oh,that's where my Grandmother used to live.
Barb
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No but I did once turn up on someone else's doorstep.
It was the house that my grandparents lived in when I was a child - I didn't know exactly where it was but, finding myself in the area, I knocked on a few doors and found it. I was welcomed in by the couple who had taken over the house when my grandparents moved out, and we had a cup of tea and a nice chat about the old folks.
It was great.
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I have a relation who was coming over for a family reunion but on his other side of the family they had lived on a farm that my Father ended up owning but my brother sold it and the people who had taken over ran it as a B & B so the relation through me was able to stay in the farmhouse where his ancestors came from.
Also I had been in contact with a member of my paternal side of the family and I had said to them anytime you are in the area are welcome to come and see us, well she must have told a cousin and they were the ones who turned up on my parents doorstep who lived round corner from me. I promised them the tree and I feel really bad as I have never sent it to them, I will one of thes days.
Emma
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When I was a lot younger I was going to Manchester from Southampton and going to stay overnight, My then girlfriend asked if she could come as she had an aunt, uncle and 4 year old neice living there she'd never met. She phoned her aunt and it was arranged that we would stay with her for the night. Off we went. Got there a few hours later and knocked on the door, the little girl answered and let us in, so, several cups of tea and slices of cake later my girlfriend turned to me and said we'd better go as it was late, Strange I thought but we left. When we got a little distance from the house she told me it wasn't her aunt, we'd been at the wrong house. They were very nice people though but no Idea who we were :D
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;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D...That's hilarious...I bet that was a talking point for some time!
Carol
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Brilliant
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Very hosiptable ;D Did you find the right aunt? Sandra
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I've never had anyone turn up ,but I had to go to Occupational Health and the receptionist asked my address.She said oh,that's where my Grandmother used to live.
Barb
I worked in a surgery about 6 miles from where I used to live and one day a patient went to see the nurse. When she asked for her address, the nurse said "Oh we've got someone who works in the surgery who used to live in that house".
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not personally having lived only ever in the house my father built or in a flat younger than me.
But my mother and I did this to two different people just over a week ago, turned up on the doorstep and told them some of the history of the two places. (Would have been a third as well except they weren't home)
Both were appreciative of the info, but we didn't ask to go inside.
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I turned up at an address, knocked, the door opened and I was greeted with "Hello? You're a H...... aren't you?". My well-rehearsed speech went completely out of my mind! I had never met my cousin or his wife, and was so surprised that she should recognise one of the family. We have become good friends as well as relatives.
On another occasion we were in a very small village in Suffolk looking for the house where my wife's grandmother was born. We stopped the only person we had seen for about an hour and asked if she knew of a Blacksmith's Cottage. Yes, she lived there! We were invited to the old cottage, now much extended, and shown the original downstairs rooms - originally it was a two-down two-up place for parents and 9 children.
My son collected his car after servicing and after settling up the receptionist asked "How is your Dad keeping?" Turned out he was my cousin who recognised the surname and had taken a gamble.
Take the plunge, knock, it may well be a goldmine!
Coelmar
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Some years ago now, we were planning a trip to Ireland from Australia. My gggrandmother had left a small town & sailed alone at 17 to Brisbane in the early 1850s, married the son of a convict and they successfully raised 10 children in the bush. I admired her so much I wanted to stay in the small town. Found a B&B nearby and phoned the landlady. After we made the bookings, she asked me why I wanted to come to this un-touristy place. When I told her my ancestor's name, she said a chap with the same surname lived up the road and his family had been there for generations. We were given a great welcome and spent many hours being shown around. We kept up the connection for some years. Gazania
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Nothing quite as dramatic as some.
About 16 years ago we were on a camp site in Warwickshire and got into conversation with a couple from NZ. They were looking for a nearby village where the lady's grandfather had been the mvillage schoolmaster, before her father had emigrated. I had at one time been the village Bobby there, and was able to give them some information. We were moving on from the site just then, so I never did find out how they got on.