I’ve introduced you to my grandmother in this blog before.
My beloved Mamaw was Catherine Cecilia Brady. She was a hoot and a half. She was also one tough cookie: A badass IRS auditor (the only woman in that office, who also became the manager of said office in the 1940s), a great cook, and a woman who took care of everybody.
She was a great storyteller, and keeper of my family’s history. After she died, I was given her genealogy papers (she kept extensive family tree information for her side of the family, along with supporting documents, letters, certificates, the family Bible, and so forth).
I was going through one of the boxes this weekend, and came across a notation about Mathew Brady, and that we (my grandmother, mother, myself) were somehow related to him.
Whoa. Related to THE Mathew Brady, Father of Photojournalism.
When I was a teenager, I remember my mother talking about this, and I never thought to question it.
Now that I am in middle age, and I have power of technology and (I think) above average sleuthing skills, I had to confirm this.
I put aside poor old Emmett (sorry, fella), and dug in.
What I found was this:
My grandmother was not related to him.
But I am, by marriage. Check it out:
I showed this to my husband (who is also interested in genealogy); he considers this barely a connection — but interesting family lore, considering this was an old story passed around by my side of the family. It’s too bad I can’t share this information with Mamaw. She’d have loved all of this genealogy research, even though this disproves that old family story.
I did find something else interesting in this side research excursion. Here I was (at my desk), looking through the list of U.S. Presidents, and I thought I’d check on a few things.
Here’s who I’m related to:
True dat. Fourth cousin Martin V.B. of the awesome sideburns. Kin.
Finally. An explanation for my lack of height.
And now, back to the manuscript!