Kissing cousins, winter weather, and salvation by tractor

A Shaffer Family Picnic in the late 1920s.

Late Saturday afternoon, as I climbed out of the passenger side door of my car while it sat at a precarious 45 degree angle on a snow-drenched stretch of farm drive, I thought to myself, "This was totally worth it."

Hardcore family historians know there's just about nothing that can keep you from making that next great discovery. On this particular Saturday it was Iowa's unrelenting winter weather that threatened to derail my planned trip to Volga. The snow held off for the two-hour drive to the Whitford Heritage Farm, but during my 3-hour visit the show fell steadily and heavily, cloaking the previously discernable farm drive to the point that I veered too far to the left while leaving and hence, ended up stick on a slope.

Thank God for distant cousins with large tractors.

The afternoon was spent with Dalene Whitford and her mother, Darlene Shaffer. Darlene's late husband, Forrest Shaffer, was my great grandfather's cousin. Darlene, who turns 96 years old tomorrow, is sharp as a tack and a genuine sweetheart. When I picked up her late husband's high school graduation photo she happily proclaimed "That's a photo of the most handsome man in the world." She knew my family very well, growing up in the same neighborhood around Illyria Church, and even dated my great-great uncle, J.D. Shaffer for a few years. She didn't elaborate on why that didn't work out.

John and Susan Shaffer with
Tom and Katie Richards, all
my great-great-great grandparents

Darlene had a unique situation in my family history in that I'm related to both her husband and her by blood. I've found in my research in Northeast Iowa that my roots go so far back I'm related to almost everyone about five different ways. In fact, many people in that area can find their trees intersect at some point. Darlene and Forrest were fifth cousins, which might shock some people, but isn't that uncommon. In fact, my great grandparents were fourth cousins once removed.

As the snow fell outside I sat at with Darlene and Dalene at the dining room table, scanner fired up, and scrapbooks piled up. Darlene had been a careful scrapbook assembler in her day and everything was labeled with names, places, and often funny anecdotes. One of the great surprises was finding so many photos of relatives of mine not related to the Shaffer or Whitford family. With everyone living in the same area they were all friends. One great example was a photo of John D. and Susan (Robbins) Shaffer sitting with Tom and Katie (Foxwell) Richards. Both of these couples are my great-great-great grandparents, but only the Shaffers share the connection with Darlene and Dalene.

Perhaps the greatest discovery was one of the last. Dalene had scads of albums ranging from the early 1900s up until present day. As the day wound down I began to skim the more recent albums, trying to find any photos I'd scan before hitting the road. Stuck in a plastic sleeve toward the back was an old cabinet photo of a young family from the 1890s. I looked once, then twice, then recognized the mother immediate - Susan Shaffer.

My heart skipped a beat. This is what I live for.

John D. and Susan (Robbins) Shaffer Family

Turning the photo over, I saw every name spelled out in detail: John D. Shaffer, Susan Shaffer, Mabel Gilson, Israel Shaffer, Jack Shaffer, Ray Shaffer, Myrtle O'Dell, Hazel Whitford, Ethel Bower. Every member of the Shaffer clan save Mary, who was born in 1899. I had to refrain myself from squealing with delight. I held the photo in both hands, looked up at Dalene, and said "This makes it all worthwhile." I kept reciting that to myself as I stood in the snow waiting for someone to come and pull my car off the slope and back onto the road.

Another road trip complete and rife with success. Where to next?