|About Creasy/Hartman and branches
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When we find out something that the families need to know since we are plenty and sometimes far away I would like for anyone having any updates to this site or any events that occur please contact me and I will post it on the web site so that anyone interested can be informed. This site is dedicated to my parents Bill Creasy and Alta Hartman. The main reason for the site is since my father didn't seem to know his family, other than the immediate ones, he couldn't tell us much about them or their lives. Also for my mother who knows alot about her family and doesn't want her children not to know them or about them. So what started out to be, I thought, a simple quest has now developed into a rather large and time consuming project that hopefully the grandchildren and ggrandchildren will come to take with then and never lose site of where they came from and what it took to get them where they are today. I would like to thank my mother for letting me pick through her memories and for the many photos I have. I know there are lots of pictures out there, which my Aunt Hilda has provided a few of the ggrandparents, I would love to have more on the site if anyone has any please send them to me at my email address. I know that there are some on here that you may not have seen before and you are welcome to take them from the site or email me and I will send you the ones you would like. Again thank you and if anyone has any information that they would like to send me please do, I welcome any corrections if there are any that need to be done. We Are the Chosen Author Unknown My feelings are in each family we are 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. To me, doing genealogy is not a cold gathering of facts but, instead, breathing life into all who have gone before. We are the story tellers of the tribe. 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 they fought to make and keep us a Nation. It goes to a deep and immense understanding that they were doing it for us, 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 them and they are us. 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 their 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 put flesh on the bones.