|About My BIGGART/STEFFLER Family Tree
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Hello there! This is my family tree to the best of my knowledge....no promises or
guarantees that all of the information is perfectly correct. It's a constantly
evolving work in progress. The photos on this site are my own, from various family
members, or are public photos on public websites. There are so many who have allowed me to visit
their site and use info/pictures from their own trees that I don't even know where to start in
thanking all of them, but I really do appreciate every one of them.
I was born in Toronto. My family moved a few times and ended up staying in
the Fergus/Elora, Ontario area. I met my husband, Mark, in Guelph, Ontario.
After our marriage Mark and I moved to Perth County (Brodhagen to be exact) and then on to Huron
County. I'd lived in Huron County for about 20 years before I started to research my family's
history. I found out that I lived in the same area where my Biggart ancestors first
started their lives in Canada after emigrating from Scotland. I've driven by the Bayfield
cemetery where some of them are buried for over 20 years not knowing that they were
A few years ago a friend of the family gave Mark and I an old Huron County "atlas" type of book.
I'd had it for quite a few years when I discovered where my ancestors had lived. I found their
piece of property in the book! It's just amazing how you meet people and find things that pertain
to your family just out of the blue.
For me, Huron County has always felt like home, I've never wanted to move
from here. Maybe because I'm where I belong-completing the family circle-from Huron County
to Toronto and back to Huron County.
**The spelling of some surnames has been changed for uniformity.**
**France and Germany exchanged control of ALSACE four times in 75 years. So the record could be
shown to be either France or Germany depending on the year of the record.**
WE ARE THE CHOSEN...
We are the chosen. In each family there is one who seems called to find the ancestors. To put
flesh on their bones and make them live again, to tell the family story and to feel that somehow
they know and approve.
Doing genealogy is not a cold gathering of facts but, instead, breathing life into all who have
gone before. We are the storytellers of the tribe. All tribes have one. We have been called, as it
were, by our genes. Those who have gone before cry out to us, "Tell our story!" So, we do.
In finding them, we somehow find ourselves. How many graves have I stood before now and cried? I
have lost count. How many times have I told the ancestors, "You have a wonderful family; you would
be proud of us." How many times have I walked up to a grave and felt somehow there was love there
for me? I cannot say.
It goes beyond just documenting facts. It goes to who I am and why do I do the things I do. It
goes to seeing a cemetery about to be lost forever to weeds and indifference and saying, "I can't
let this happen." The bones here are bones of my bone and flesh of my flesh. It goes to doing
something about it. It goes to pride in what our ancestors were able to accomplish, how they
contributed to what we are today. It goes to respecting their hardships and losses, their never
giving in or giving up, their resoluteness to go on and build a life for their family.
It goes to deep pride that the fathers fought and some died to make and keep us a Nation. It goes
to a deep and immense understanding that they were doing it for us. It is of equal pride and love
that our mothers struggled to give us birth. Without them we could not exist, and so we love each
one, as far back as we can reach.
That we might be born who we are. That we might remember them. So we do. With love and caring and
scribing each fact of their existence, because we are they and they are the sum of who we are. So,
as a scribe called, I tell the story of my family. It is up to that one called in the next
generation to answer the call and take my place in the long line of family storytellers.
That is why I do my family genealogy, and that is what calls those young and old to step up and
restore the memory or greet those whom we had never known before.