Several weeks ago, I started rummaging through boxes of old family photos, notes, and memorabilia. It has been years since anyone looked at any of it. The contents smell of musty paper and my grandmother’s powdery perfume. To most, these things just look like garbage that should have been thrown out years ago. To me, a budding genealogist, each box is a treasure chest.
One of my favorite treasures was found tucked into a lightweight box filled with old birthday cards and letters: a nondescript notebook which belonged to my grandmother. At first, I thought it was just an outdated address book. There are three addresses listed for me and I can tell by the listings that this book dates back to when I was in college in the early 90s, just a few years before my grandmother passed away.
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