Footsteps Through Time | Home
Dedication and Welcome to My Website | Our Lineage | My Story | My Husband and his Family | Our Children | Our Grandchildren | My Dog | Family Researchers | Mom's Family | Dad's Family | Pets | My Grandparents | My Great Grandparents | Charles William Cole | Where Charlie served | Charles William Cole's Parents | The Ancestors of Charles William Cole | Ireland - The Emerald Isle | The Western Isles - The Azores | The Founders of Rhode Island | The Americans - Rhode Island | The Americans - Massachusetts | The Settlers | The Settler's Stories | New England Graves | They Fought for America | The New Comers | The New Comer's Stories | They Left England | The Emigrants | Olde England | The English | Connections to Distant Past | The Normans | English Knights | From the Northern Seas | And Beyond
Dedication and Welcome to My Website
Heirlooms are treasures. They bring the past to life, and open a window into another time.
Our family tree can be thought of as a precious tapestry, handed down from one generation to the next. A tapestry formed by many colors, woven tight, into a strong bond, each strand a part of the whole.
Our family has been woven from a myriad of colors.
Each ancestor sailed the wide blue ocean in search of a golden dream. Some hoped for freedom, a chance to secure a better life for their children, to pray as they pleased, to earn a living and others came to seek adventure.
Some came on tiny wooden ships tossed on cruel seas for months on end. They came wearing the austere black and white of the Pilgrim and Puritan. Here there was the promise of rich brown soil for planting and green forests with timber to build their homesteads. They worshiped in churches they founded and built with their own hands.
In later years, some of their children and grandchildren would fight to break the last bonds tying them, the Americans, to the tyranny of Britain. They shed their red blood on the soil of the country they loved in the Revolutionary War.
Still later, others would shed more red blood on the battlefields of the South. They would serve to preserve the Union and to give all a chance for freedom.
One would walk guard duty on frigid winter nights as white snow blew in from the icy bay and then
travel to the deep South to help rebuild cities in ruin. He would go West, and see this country expand
from ocean to ocean as the silver rail lines crossed the mountains and prairies.
Young men and women made the journey alone before they had reached the age of sixteen
They were forced to leave by events both natural and political. They sailed from the Emerald Isle in steerage
on ships and steamers, holding in their hearts both joy and sorrow. They came from small market towns and
farms into the smoky gray cities where they would toil long hours in factories in order to earn enough money
for a little home. In America they could do that by the sweat of their brow.
Our grandmothers would serve the wealthy, cleaning their homes and cooking their food.They spun woolen
threads on looms in dingy factories. They saved every penny, and sent it back to the old country to give
others a chance in America.
Some came from the lovely hills and valleys of the Azores, where purple grapes and blue hydrangeas
grow in abundance. A place of beauty where white washed homes held poverty. Perhaps they sailed on
whaling ships or barks toward a new land and a new opportunity. They tilled the soil of the yankee farmers
until they could buy a piece of land to call their own. They developed strong hands and backs, and all the while they kept the dream alive.
When the winds of war again blew our way, one would serve on patrol ships guarding our shores from the
enemy who would seek to destroy us. He would again volunteer to serve his country as all Americans
prepared for W.W.II. Some would stay at home, and build the ships that would carry us to victory.
There were strong women who kept our families together, despite hardships almost to much to bear.
They endured poverty, illness and death, and they did so with grace and determination. Some were left
to carry on alone.Some lost their way, others found it. All were proud to be citizens of America.
Their stories are woven with humor and sadness, joy and adversity.
They designed the tapestry.
Their ideals, faults, talents, endurance and faith formed us.
They will live again for us on these pages, to be remembered by those to come.
This is our heritage, this is our legacy.