Is there a map?

Because Austaurius lists the Way of Santiago as a major attraction and of course, Santiago del Compostela (sp?) is in Galicia. Perhaps they are neighbors.

My dad served as a radio engineer for the Marines in Viet Nam. He signed up to avoid getting drafted, which made my grandfather disown him.

Wait. He went into the military of his own volition and still got disowned? Harsh.

I have very, very little historical information about my family. Some on my father's side (all the gents were in the military and most everyone before my father was a Mason with big plumey hats, swords, gavels and other sekrit stuff the local Masons are not pleased that I have.) and absolutely zero on my mother's.

I can guess what a dna test would reveal though. Dark hair, light skin, green eyes, ancestors known for drinking, depression and dying of broken hearts (not even kidding there). Names like Cooley and McClure. I've done the math.

I have no clue. What was your mothers' route?

Our Eve was East African, and the mothers wended their way to West Africa and from there were bounced across in the Middle Passage.

That stuff is so tempting and so frustrating. What are the odds that any particular thread I have a narrative interest in being something that shows up there?

Honestly, we need to know once and for all about the Asian blood. Because that's majorly under debate.

Less under debate is the slaves and the Scots. Between the two groups that's the bulk of my genetic heritage. Go team freckled black people with red highlights.

I just discovered that my great-great-grandparents were first cousins.

My mother wondered slightly aloud if she was a blood relative of my father's. It wouldn't be close, though. My mother's family was pointedly high yellow, and my dad's...well, NSM. Just regular folk without so much of a breeding plan.

Is there a map?

Because Austaurius lists the Way of Santiago as a major attraction and of course, Santiago del Compostela (sp?) is in Galicia. Perhaps they are neighbors.

They're cheek-by-jowl: [link] (scroll down a bit)

Oh, that reminds me...do y'all use "WASP" for any Protestant of mostly-British descent, or does it imply a certain establishment/elite status? DH and I actually argued about this the other day--he was insisting I'm a WASP because I'm close to 75% British (multiple flavors thereof, but mostly Scots-Irish) and was raised Baptist. I was equally insistent that I wasn't, because how can you be a WASP if your ancestors lived in Appalachia and none of your grandparents finished high school? WASP is multiple generations at prep schools and Ivies, summer houses in Maine, that sort of thing. Who's right?

ETA that it was high school none of my grandparents finished--my parents' generation was the first to have high school educations, and mine was the first where most of us finished college.

I think WASP could be either but I agree that there is usually a class thing associated.

Trudy -- also this map.

I think "WASP" has a certain entitelment implication... though you certainly are a White Anglo Saxon Protestant (and your ancestors would have been spared any number of prejudices so there is a certain privlidge in that).

This is the town they were from [link]

Its right on the border with Galacia.

[Edit: actually, that might be the sea... but its very close to Galacia]

but that people took the opportunity of the internment to buy up their property and not everyone was able to get it back after the war.

sumi, yes, you're right. Knowing that the internment was coming (there were the assembly centers, the exclusion order and stuff before 9066) people had to sell their property, homes, stores, merchandise, equipment, at fractions of its worth. There are wealthy families/businesses in California today because of that development. And I've always wondered what happened to all the Japanese stuff (swords, altars, etc.) that was confiscated. Was it just destroyed? I wish I could find it and return it to the families from whom it was taken.

I am ashamed to say that my grandfather was stationed at Tule Lake. I hate to think that, if our families crossed paths generations ago, that's how they did it, but so it was. I'm very sorry.

Wow.

You made me cry. Thanks for the apology. I don't think I knew I needed one, (beyond Reagan and the redress) but turns out I did.

Tule Lake was an especially difficult place. My relatives were gone by the time it turned into what it was, but it was the center of much of the discontent. Eventually it became the place where all the "problem" internees were sent. So I can see how your grandfather may have had the opinion he did at the time. I am moved, however, by his journey.

Grrr. I suppose it's better when you discover it wasn't your work mistake, but instead the mistake of someone for whom you have no particular fondness, but still. If you're going to be uber-pedantic it'd be really cool if it had the upside of following correct instructions to the letter, instead of just the downside of not being able to get the point of incorrect instructions.

Especially when there are so many fewer incorrect instructions than correct but wrongly executed correct ones.

Can it be 12 yet? Going for lunch with a krav instructor. Want out.