"BUILD IT AND THEY SHALL COME"

Some of you will recognize this expression from the film Field of Dreams staring Kevin Costner, one of my all time favorite sports flicks. In the movie, Costner plays the part of an Iowa farmer who hears a voice telling him, "Build it and they shall come", so he heeds the advice and builds a regulation baseball diamond in the middle of his cornfield as shown above. Eventually, Shoeless Joe Jackson and other long deceased members of the old Chicago Blacksocks ball club come out of the corn field and start playing ball on the newly built diamond.

I have been a genealogist for twenty three years and during that time I have stumbled through many old cemeteries fighting off mosquitos and nearly tripping on long stringy weeds. I have strained my eyes to the limit attempting to read endless roles of blurred US Census microfilm and I have traveled great distances in order to uncover deeds, naturalization records and vital statistics housed in some ancient county courthouse.

Now much of that reaching out to find relatives is past and cousins are contacting me instead. I receive, on the average, twenty hits a day on my web page and every other morning there is usually one or two email messages from people who want to know if I might be related to them. This has all happened due to the fact that I have built an infrastructure by placing my URL on thirty five different search engines, fifty different home pages and in seven different surname databases.

In an earlier issue I shared a list of cousins "I Met on the Net." This list currently contains the names of thirty nine "new" kinfolk. This past week I found someone on Gen Forum, a genealogical bullletin board, who is also researching Gillises on PEI. I contacted her and learned that her great great great granduncle, Duncan Gilles, and my Donald Gillis I were brothers. This contact, Clair Bigelow, lives in Boston and has provided me with names and vital statistics for 145 additional relatives. Information I am still entering into my database.

I have built this comprehensive infrastructure and, even though Shoeless Joe Jackson may not be with them, a bunch of cousins are coming regularly to play in our ballpark.

Our family coat of arms ties in the back, is that normal?

GILLIS/FRYE FAMILY REUNION

By John Frye

There's a string of small mountains and hills formed by the last glacier that covered Maine, they run right down to the sea near the town of Camden. An additional handful of these small mountains are now islands, just beyond Camden, in Penobscot Bay. One of those islands, North Haven, first settled in the 1710s by emigrants from the Massachusetts Bay Colony, became the home of a flourishing maritime industry, with their schooners running to all points of the compass and ports around the world. It was on North Haven, in its earliest days that the Cooper, Frye, Gillis, and MacDonald families came together. More than 200 years later those families still celebrate their heritage with an annual family reunion.

This year's reunion took place on Saturday, 23 Sep 2000, at the Camden Hills State Park. Gail Frye arranged for us to use a shelter in the park constructed by the CCC, 65 years earlier. It's stone fireplace provided a roaring blaze that kept us warm, bodies and hearts. Ten large picnic tables gave us more than enough room to seat the 61 attendees. Family trees for each family, together with photos, were posted on large sheets of plywood and nailed to the huge wooden pillars at two comers of the edifice.

Many of the attendees came from the immediate area: North Haven, Camden, and Linconville. Others came from more distant towns in Maine. Others yet came from farther away - three from Massachusetts, seven from New Hampshire, two from Virginia, three from California,and two from Germany. And we recognized these long travelers with appropriate prizes.

Frye Reunion Our oldest participating member, Ethel Thomas Sezak, had just celebrated her 90th birthday. She was surrounded throughout the affair by many wanting to see her family photos of yore and to hear her tidbits about the "way it used to be." The youngest participant, Noah Bamey, also in tartan, had celebrated his first birthday the month before. Both were acknowledged with prizes.

Five other participants, John Frye, Keryn Laite, Bianca Knight, Holly Frye (carrying the New England MacPherson Clan flag), and Ross Faneuf (our wonderful bagpiper) were also in tartans. Processional These hearty souls were led in slow procession to the shelter by Ross, with his pipes fully engaged. John welcomed all to the affair and explained the day's agenda. Keryn then delivered a rousing benediction after which we had our group picture taken by Francis Frye. Tartans Once we'd had our group photo taken, we were called to dinner with the opportunity to sample the tempting dishes brought by each attendee.

Prizes were awarded for best baked beans, best salad, and best casserole. Three first- time attendees swept top honors. David Laite won first place in the bean contest and was decorated with a blue ribbon. Runners-up were Keryn Laite (last year's winner), Jolm & Francis Frye, and Eileen Bennett (sending her beans in from distant Michigan). Elaine Burgess, another first-time attendee, won first place in the salad contest, with Doris Frye running close second. Jean Evans, out of NH, snagged first place in the dessert category.

Following our meal, Keryn and John stood before the group to sing their rendition of "Mull of Kintyre"(a tune which can be heard on the Mac Donald Home Page)accompanied by Martha Bickford on the auto harp. Copies of the sheet music were given to each attendee so they could join in on the chorus. While the cries for "encore, encore," were not overwhelming, the leaders in this songfest, more loud than musical, got us through it and by the end, a good time had been had by all.

The remainder of the day was spent talking with each other, munching on the great food, looking at pictures and family trees and enjoying the balmy weather. We were blessed with exceptional weather, exuberant participants, extraordinary food, and the perfect site, all the ingredients for a wonderful event. And it was.
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To see photos of other family reunions take a gander at the "Reunions" link on my home page. Bill

BLOWING MY OWN SMOKE

Please excuse my blatant self-exploitation but I was really quite proud when I read this little squib in the August issue of Family Tree Magazine. The aricle was talking about family newsletters:
"Web-Based Newsletters: Bill Norin has published his "Mac Donald Newsletter" on paper for 13 years. Now, issues can be accessed from his web site at . His web based newsletter has the advantage of photos,a handsome Web design and music (he's currently playing "Flower of Scotland").The "Mac Donald Newsletter" is filled with articles from a book on family history that Norin wrote several years ago, along with new material such as "We Met on the Net," about the new cousins he met on line"
I hope I don't disclocate my shoulder because it is difficult to pat one's own back.

Any family tree produces some lemons, some nuts and a few bad apples

WHO DAT IN DER?

Could it be a Mac Donald? It happened several years ago while my son Scott and I were driving along a highway in Estrella, Ca.. We saw a hay bail with these feet sticking out. Was it one of our kin? How long do you think he had been in there?

A LETTER FROM SHYRL
I was reading some of the letters that I had saved from Shryl Hacker who died this Fall and was reminded of what a wonderful writer she had been. This was written in 1981 when she toured Nova Scotia:
"Nova Scotia juts out into the Atlantic in the shape of a lobster's claw. And, as we journeyed around that claw last September, every restaurant offered lobster along with delectable shrimp, scallops and just about everything else except Siamese fighting fish.
To watch the scallop fleet return may introduce a game for tourists. The small boats flash brilliant colors, and the game is to match up boats with houses along the shore. "Boats are painted first," our tour guide informed us. "Houses receive paint that's left over. Makes an address easy to locate except when a fisherman has to borrow paint from a neighbor to finish a wall."
Scenery changes rapidly as the soaring, dipping, winding road falls behind the bus. The sea, cobalt to turquoise, gives way to a sea of grass; the vast Tantramar Marsh, a a green expanse broken only by an occasional weather-grayed barn. Early fall rain curtains the marsh with a warm mist as the sun returns to toast the silvery fur of pussy willow along the dykes.
Here comes the wind to funnel up Fundy Bay, to wave acres of grass tops, to waft the scent of wild roses and pine needles, to toss the gulls swarming in when the tides go out.
Here, in this province supported by lumber and fishing, here in this sea-haunted land, the pace of past centuries adheres to each day like barnacles to boats. Sturdy people reveal a strength of character earned by living in isolation and by living to the rhythm of earth and tide.
Perhaps even more than the grandeur, history and sheer beauty of battering sea, is a sense that here there Is depth and meaning to life. Like the Arcadians, like the symbolic butterflies and the migrating geese, we plan to return."

I think my relatives had many bad "heir" days.

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