In Which I Get Serious about Luke Phillips

I have contacted the Oakland County county clerk’s office to try to find out about this “marriage.”  Yes, I am now indeed talking smack about my own ancestors. But I figure that Luke Phillips has had his chance to show up and straighten this nonsense out.

I’ve gotten weird woo-woo crap from the Demunbreuns and they don’t even know me.

But I can’t even get a sign or portent from my own dead relatives?

I tell you, ancestors.

But I did get to read a charming recount by an early settler of a trip he took where he basically walked from Detroit to what would be Chicago, taking a route that seems roughly analogous to State Road 12, and he was attacked by “prairie wolves” which he said looked like foxes, but meaner, and he tried to fool his aunt and uncle who were living out on the prairie, but they recognized him.  The most interesting part, though, is that he stayed with some missionaries and then later stayed with some Indians and he asked the Indians about Christianity and they all told him that they really liked the missionaries, but they felt like there was nothing good in the coming of Christianity for them. I thought that was pretty astute.

8 thoughts on “In Which I Get Serious about Luke Phillips

  1. You know, I think when I’d read that the first time I though that they were corporeal people chatting with you! My mistake! :-)

    I’m curious, because I’ve been doing some family research too, and discovering some absolutely bizarre, dramatic events that would be so much easier to understand if I could speak to the people involved. I don’t tend to be particularly woo-woo myself, but sure would love a well-intentioned visit from a particular few ancestors.

  2. What’s fun is when you’re going through your dead mother’s stuff and you find the pictures of the Grandma-In-The-Casket that you’ve never seen. I called my sister and said “Guess what? We have a matching set of Dead Grandparent Pictures!”

    Death certificates are fascinating.

  3. I was really deeply moved by seeing Great-great-grandpa Oscar’s death certificate. I mean, death sucks, no way around it. It’s hard on everyone. But it means a lot to me that, out of this terrible moment, there’s this piece of paper, that can exist for a century and tell you such mundane thing that probably don’t mean anything to anyone else, but mean the world to me.

  4. And it helps explain the lousy tickers in your family. It’s not because you just somehow “fail” at taking care of yourself.

  5. Well, to hear some people tell it, that’s the reason that poor people stay poor and fat people stay fat, generation after generation. Failing through the centuries, that’s me and mine…

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