The thing that first got me interested in genealogy was an old family Bible that my mother gave me. This Bible had the names and birthdates of William "Mill Creek Billy" Foster, his wife, Sarah, and their children. I knew that I was descended from Mill Creek Billy, but I did not know through which of his children my line continued. I was drawn to one of the daughters, Delilah Foster. My feelings for her were very strong. My great-great grandfather was Gabriel Foster. Based on the birthdates in the Bible, I assumed that Gabriel had to be either of the grandson, or the great-grandson of Mill Creek Billy. Delilah had married a Wingo, so that ruled her out as Gabriel's mother. Further research finally proved that Gabriel was the son of Moses Foster, Mill Creek Billy's son.

As this was very early in my genealogical research, my interest was mostly in my direct line. So, I did not immediantly research Delilah's descendents. Still, I was drawn to Delilah. My thoughts kept returning to her, again and again. It was almost as if she was pulling me to her. Finally, I HAD to look into her line. She had married a man named Burrel Wingo and they had a son named Ransom who had married Mary Leister. Ransom and Mary had a daughter named Susan Wingo. Further research showed that Susan Wingo had married Gabriel Foster! Delilah was my great-great-great grandmother after all!

Delilah was the first of Mill Creek Billy's children that I researched. She wouldn't have it any other way. Through some unexplained channel, she was letting me know that we were directly linked.

I'm not sure if this qualifies as a "ghost story", but here it is anyway...

While researching my early California lines, Rector and Robinson, I discovered that they came to California, via Wagon Train in the early to mid 1840's. I began to investigate the history and route of the Oregon/California trail. During this investigation, I had a dream, that I was with my ancestors at Independence MO, just before the launch west. I did not see anyone, but I knew that I was riding with one of them in the wagon.

We were traveling into the staging area. I could see a lot of other wagons, people and oxen, as well as horses. People were coming up to us, and talking to the driver, unfortunately, I could not here what they were saying.

I could see the green grass of the plains, smell the oxen and horses, and taste the anticapation in the air. More importantly, I could feel the excitement, and exhilaration of the upcoming journey ahead.

Normally, I do not remember dreams, but this one has stayed with me. It is as fresh in my mind as when I first dreamt it.

Searching: BOWLER, CROW, HACKLER, RECTOR, ROBINSON

My first genealogy "ghost story" starts several years before I became interested in genealogy. At the time I knew nothing of my family's history prior to my great-grandparents, other than the broad statement that most were Pennsylvania Dutch. Pursuing an interest in architecture I learned that a local Historical site - the Ephrata Cloister in Ephrata PA, contained buildings representative of German Medieval Architecture. Upon visiting the cloister site while walking the grounds and entering the chapel, I experienced one of those moments of happiness where everything seems right with the world. I felt at home (although I had never been there before) and perfectly contented. The feeling was so strong that I commented on it later to friends urging them to visit the place. I never forgot the attraction the place held for me and visited often.

Several years later I began researching my family history. Rather quickly I learned that my Fifth-great-grandparents Heinrich Dierdorff and Elizabeth Moore had been "householders", members of the congregation of Seventh Day Baptist Brethren at the site of the Ephrata cloister.

Interestingly enough many other descendents of the Dierdorff family seem to share the genealogy bug - maybe someone is calling to all of us.

My second genealogy "ghost story" is more typical. Having found cemetery records for my great-great-grandparents Joseph and Jane Krall, I went in search of their tombstones. I had no guide to indicate where they might be buried, so my father and I began a systematic search beginning at one of the gates and carefully walking row by row. After fruitlessly searching for some time and covering less than half the ground in the cemetery, I was growing tired and wondered if I would have the energy to search the entire rather large cemetery. I stopped to rest and closed my eyes. I mentally called out to Joseph and Jane to help me find them. Afer standing that way for a minute or two the image of two identically sized white stones with rounded tops came to my mind. I opened my eyes and turned to survey the distant parts of the cemetery. At first I saw nothing similar, as I continued to turn - way off in the distance I saw two stones matching my imaginary vision. I walked toward these two stones. As I got closer I saw that I was facing the back of the stones. When I walked around in front of the stones, sure enough, it was Joseph and Jane Krall.

Curiously, Joseph was the great-grandson of the Dierdorff couple in my first story.

A relative in Shetland was born on the island of Yell in the village of Aywick. When she married she moved to Burravoe, only about 5 miles away, but she did not know the area well.

In exploring she visited a ruin of three houses which were built in a row. On entering the middle house she experienced a warm glow and welcoming feeling - yet the three ruins were identical.

Years later she started genealogy and discovered that some her direct ancestors had lived in that middle house.

As the relative does not know that I have written to you - apologies if she reads it!

I have had a similar experience, and so too my mother and her brother. The latter is called George and experienced pleasure in a village in which I traced our ancestor called - George. A bit spooky to us, but maybe dull by your standards. (MY NOTE: Not dull at all, Alan.....I loved the story!)