Welcome to the Weber family.   Our motto?   "There is always room for One More!"   And you could be the next lucky individual to be inducted into our illustrious ranks.   All you have to do to become a Weber is to want what we've got.   And what is it , you ask?   Uh..uh..uh, not so fast.   People have studied us for years in order to acquire that secret.   Fortunately, you don't have to know what it is. You just have to want it.

Yes, we've got something special. And we will share it with you, if you stick around. We will introduce you to the various brothers, mothers, cousins, daughters, sisters, aunts, uncles, sons, fathers and heroes we have collected; not to mention husbands and wives, past and present, willing and unwilling, as the case may be. And then there are those whose gender or race hasn't quite yet been identified. But, that is not an issue with us, for we place value on deeper things and hold each other in debt for only the things we can control. Well..., ideally, anyway, most of the time. We are a people of high ideals, to say the least, and we try to live by them, most of the time.

Some of our best and most cherished members are gone now, but they still live in us, because we loved them. Admittedly, the rest of us have had some rather offbeat, shall we say. . . . accomplishments, but no one has ever accused us of being dull. Perish the thought! If, by some bizarre twist of reality, you should find that you belong in this family, either by blood or "adoption", you would be part of an exceptional group, indeed. And that doesn't have to be a bad thing. Really!

As you become more acquainted with us, you may find our habits annoying, our speech a bit coarse and our behavior slightly objectionable. At first you may be faintly disturbed by that wry expression that suddenly pulls down one corner of our lips and raises the other, and then just as quickly disappears into an open smile. We will undoubtedly notice how you unconsciously shift your weight when you see it. But, I think, before long you will come to know the source of that "Weber smile" as well as anyone we've ever adopted; indeed, as well as we do. You might even catch your own smile twisting around in the same way when you least expect it. That may be the first sign of your conversion to "Weberhood". But don't let's get ahead of ourselves.

First, there is much to tell and much to learn, and that is, of course, why we are here. Let us begin. For one thing, our story has no ending, at least we hope it doesn't. And it has no beginning that we know of. We are, therefore, stuck precisely in the middle. And so, it is from here that we must begin our written account: a little before we came in, at the end of the beginning of the middle.

The first person to put pen to parchment was not really a Weber, but there was as much "Weber" in her as ever there was in anyone. Her name was Albertina, and she kept a little journal to record the ocean voyage that brought her to this place we call home. Her children came with her (we think there were seventeen, in all), but none of her three husbands were left alive to see it. If they had been, she may never have come here and we may not have been born.

Anyway, the little journal has long since been lost, but we have her daughter, Theresa, to thank; for telling her children about the ocean voyage, and the old country, and everything. Which brings us to the Timpers . Theresa was a Timper--that is, she married one. Her children counted nine, and one of them married a Weber; Herb, to be exact. And that is how we got our name. So, you may well ask; What is it that distinguishes a Timper say, from a Weber? What is a Weber, anyway? You just may find out sooner than you think. (Hint: if you are still reading this, you probably are one.)

For one thing, being a Weber is more a state of mind than of matter, as you may have already guessed. All of us kin and quite a selection of our adoptees have inherited the Weber mindset, primarily from Gramma Lillie. Now, Lillie started out as a Timper (she was the one who married a Weber ). When she married Herb, a child of destiny was born. That child would come to be known as "Weberhood". As of now, we don't know the first thing about Grampa Herb's ancestors, not even his parents' names. If we did, then maybe things would be different. But, we do know that the combination of Lillie and Herb was DYNAMITE.

We could show you photographs of Herb and Lillie in the old neighborhood with their kids in their arms, but the pictures don't tell you who they were, what they did, how they felt or how they survived. Maybe you've heard stories in your own family. Maybe you will know what we mean when we tell of the special kindness Lillie had that made everyone, young and old, call her "Gramma", even her own children. Indeed, she was more than a mother. She was the archetypal grandmother. We think you'll agree with us, in the end.

We could be satisfied to show you pedigrees listing our names and dates in order of our arrival in this world. But the pedigrees don't tell you very much. They don't tell you what we feel, what we know, where we came from, where we are going. The lists don't tell you anything about those who brought us here; Albertina, in the first place, and her daughter, Theresa, who gave us our Gramma Lillie who, along with Grampa Herb (let's not forget the "Old Man"), made us Webers. And you? If you care to give her a chance, Gramma will make you a Weber too.

Our story begins in a time and place that seem unreal to us now, as we stand at the threshold of a new technological age. Indeed, the world they knew so well has all but ceased to exist. The time is early nineteenth century, 1830 maybe. The place is the Northeast corner of Germany, in a land once known as Pomerania, on the southern coast of the Baltic Sea. The town is called Krakow. The man is the Burgemeister.