Dana's Family Gems

    I'm taking on Amy Johnson Crow's 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks Challenge  "Nickname" Week three 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks My dad’s nickname was 'Boone.' His real name was Daniel, and he loved hunting, just like the legendary Daniel Boone, so the name fit perfectly. As for me, I had a couple of nicknames growing up. When I was little, they called me 'Dynomite'—and for good reason. I had an explosive temper! I socked my cousin Robby Webb in the nose when he threatened to play with my toys, and I even punched a preacher who told me I couldn’t sled down a steep hill. Let’s just say I was the full package of 'terrible twos' and then some! In high school, my friends gave me a new nickname: 'Drano.' Apparently, I was always the one cleaning up messes—whether it was actual messes or misunderstandings. A friend Ronnie Breazeale called me "Danish" that always made me blush, but I secretly loved it. Looking back, it’s safe to say I’ve had ...

   I'm taking on Amy Johnson Crow's 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks Challenge  "favorite photo" Week two 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks I wasn't even alive when this photo was taken, but it captures a moment that feels timeless. My Great Grandfather, Daniel Robert Dunn, stands at the center, surrounded by his children and grandchildren. He's showing the little ones a wind-up toy, and each child holds a special gift—a pretty doll for one, a cowboy costume for another. The joy and love in this photo take my breath away, reminding me of a time when families truly cherished these moments. On the coffee table, family photos are displayed under the glass, adding to the sense of warmth and connection. This might be my favorite photo because I remember my dad, Daniel Davis, saying his Grandpa Dunn was his favorite. He hunted, fished, and played ball like one of the kids. Dad helped his grandpa on the farm and with carpentry. This photo is a testament to family. It captures cherish...

  I'm taking on Amy Johnson Crow's 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks Challenge  "In the Beginning" Week One 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks My interest in ancestry began around the fifth grade when our teacher assigned us a project: create a family tree and write a family history report. The instructions were clear—interview the oldest relative we knew. As luck would have it, my dad was planning to visit his Aunt Hester’s house to help with some yard work, and I tagged along. Aunt Hester lived in a tiny house nestled off Wears Valley. She was my grandmother’s sister, and I remember her vividly—her beautiful hair always swept up in a neat bun and the sweet scent of homemade sugar cookies. She shaped them with an old metal cookie press and always had baggies full of them ready to hand out to kids and adults alike. While Dad worked in the yard, I settled at Aunt Hester’s kitchen table, nibbling on one of her cookies and clutching my notebook. I eagerly began asking her questions about o...