Genealogy Humor

Here are some funnies I’ve seen on the internet.  Don’t know the authors.  Enjoy!

ANCESTOR:   A person who gave so little thought to how important he would be to someone someday that he didn't commit nearly enough  significant acts to get himself noticed, at least not in counties with fireproof courthouses.  Instead of performing stupendous, momentous deeds to guarantee a place in the county history books, he just frittered away his time doing things like pulling up trees or chopping them down, plodding along behind a mule and plow, or getting punctured by arrows.  If he were alive today, you wouldn't even invite him to a party.

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WARNING

Genealogy Pox is VERY CONTAGIOUS

SYMPTOMS: Continual complaint as to need for names, dates and places. Patient has a blank expression, sometimes deaf to spouse and children. Has no taste for work of any kind, except feverishly looking through records at libraries and courthouses. Has a compulsion to write letters. Swears at mailman when he doesn't leave mail. Frequents strange places such as cemeteries, ruins, and remote desolate country areas. Makes secret night calls and hides phone bills from spouse. Mumbles to self. Has strange, far away look in eyes. NO KNOWN CURE

TREATMENT: Medication is useless. This disease is not fatal, but gets progressively worse. Patient should attend genealogy workshops, subscribe to genealogical magazines and be given a quiet corner in the house where he or she can be alone.

REMARKS: The unusual nature of this disease is that the sicker the patient gets, the more he or she enjoys it.

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Genealogists never die, they just lose their census.

1. My family coat of arms ties at the back....is that normal?

2. My family tree is a few branches short! All help appreciated.

3. My ancestors must be in a witness protection program!

4. Shake your family tree and watch the nuts fall!

5. My hobby is genealogy, I raise dust bunnies as pets.

6. How can one ancestor cause so much TROUBLE??

7. I looked into my family tree and found out I was a sap.

8. I'm not stuck, I'm ancestrally challenged.

9. I'm searching for myself; Have you seen me?

10. If only people came with pull down menus and on-line help.

11. Isn't genealogy fun? The answer to one problem leads to two more!

12. It's 2013... Do you know where your-Gr-Gr-Grandparents are?

13. A family reunion is an effective form of birth control.

14. A family tree can wither if nobody tends its roots.

15. A new cousin a day keeps the boredom away.

16. After 30 days, unclaimed ancestors will be adopted.

17. Am I the only person up my tree... sure seems like it.

18. Any family tree produces some lemons, some nuts and a few bad apples.

19. Can a first cousin once removed..RETURN?

20. FLOOR: The place for storing your priceless genealogy records.

21. Gene-Allergy: It's a contagious disease, but I love it.

22. Genealogists are time unravelers.

23. Genealogy is like playing hide and seek: They hide...I seek!

24. Genealogy: Tracing yourself back to better people.

  26. A pack rat is hard to live with, but makes a fine ancestor.

27. I want to find ALL of them! So far I only have a few thousand.

28. I Should have asked them BEFORE they died!

29. I think my ancestors had several "Bad heir" days.

30. I'm always late. My ancestors arrived on the JUNE flower.

31. Only a Genealogist regards a step backwards as progress.

32. Share your knowledge; it is a way to achieve immortality.

33. Heredity: Everyone believes in it until their children act like fools!

34. It's an unusual family that hath neither a lady of the evening or thief.

35. Many a family tree needs pruning.

36. Shh! Be very, very quiet.... I'm hunting forebears.

37. Snobs talk as if they had begotten their own ancestors!

38. That's strange: half my ancestors are WOMEN!

39. I'm not sick, I've just got fading genes.

40. Genealogists live in the past lane.

41. Cousins marrying cousins: Very tangled roots!

42. Cousins marrying cousins: A non branching family tree.

43. All right! Everybody out of the gene pool!

44. Always willing to share my ignorance...

45. Documentation...The hard part..

46. Genealogy: Chasing your own tale!

47. Genealogy...will I ever find time to mow the lawn again?

48. All the really important information is on that missing page

49. I researched my family tree...and apparently I don't exist!

50. SO MANY ANCESTORS...........................SO LITTLE TIME!

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When you run across some one in the family that was sent to the electric chair, this is how you record it:

"Uncle Tom occupied a seat of applied electronics at an important government institution. He was attached to his position by the strongest of ties and his death came as a real shock."

Tom Robison

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If your ancestor was hung - he died at a public meeting due to the collapse of a platform.

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HUMOR. Christine Horn <chorn@mail.powr.net> writes: "At the Family History Center at the LDS Church where I am the director, we get mail sometimes that brings a smile and often a chuckle. Thought I would share it with all of you."

To the FHC, enclosed, please find my grandmother. I have worked on her for 50 years without success. Now see what you can do.

I've looked for grandpa for over 20 years. Do you have him in your library?

I am sorry we do not have complete families. The trouble here is extracting the children from the minister.

Our grandfather was found dead, crossing the plains in the library.

For Sale: We have an antique desk just right for genealogy work and a lady, with thick legs, and large drawers.

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THE CENSUS TAKER  by Darlene Stevens

It was the first day of census, and all through the land; 
The pollster was ready ... a black book in hand.
He mounted his horse for a long dusty ride;
His book and some quills were tucked close by his side.
A long winding ride down a road barely there;
Toward the smell of fresh bread wafting, up through the air.
The woman was tired, with lines on her face;
And wisps of brown hair she tucked back into place.
She gave him some water ... as they sat at the table;
And she answered his questions ... the best she was able.
He asked of her children... Yes, she had quite a few;
The oldest was twenty, the youngest not two.
She held up a toddler with cheeks round and red;
His sister, she whispered, was napping in bed.
She noted each person who lived there with pride;
And she felt the faint stirrings of the wee one inside.
He noted the sex, the color, the age...
The marks from the quill soon filled up the page.
At the number of children, she nodded her head;
And saw her lips quiver for the three that were dead.
The places of birth she "never forgot";
Was it Kansas? or Utah? or Oregon ... or not?
They came from Scotland, of that she was clear;
But she wasn't quite sure just how long they'd been here.
They spoke of employment, of schooling and such;
They could read some .and write some .. though really not much.
When the questions were answered, his job there was done;
So he mounted his horse and he rode toward the sun.
We can almost imagine his voice loud and clear;
"May God bless you all for another ten years."
Now picture a time warp ... its' now you and me;
As we search for the people on our family tree.
We squint at the census and scroll down so slow;
As we search for that entry from long, long ago.
Could they only imagine on that long ago day;
That the entries they made would effect us this way?
If they knew, would they wonder at the yearning we feel;
And the searching that makes them so increasingly real.
We can hear if we listen the words they impart;
Through their blood in our veins and their voice in our heart.

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                  The Van Gough Family Tree

His obnoxious brother ………………………...….Please Gogh

His dizzy aunt…………………………………..…Verti Gogh

The brother who ate prunes…………………….….Gotta Gogh

The brother who worked at a convenience store…..Stop’n Gogh

The grandfather from Yugoslavia………….………U Gogh

The brother who bleached his clothes white……....Hue Gogh

The cousin from Illinois………………………...…Chica Gogh

His magician uncle……………………………..…Where-diddy Gogh

His Mexican friend…………………………….....Amee Gogh

The Mexican friend’s American half brother…..….Gring Gogh

The nephew who drove a stagecoach………....…Wells-far Gogh

The constipated uncle…………………………….Can’t Gogh

The ballroom dancing aunt………………….……Tan Gogh

The bird lover uncle………………………………Flamin Gogh

His new psychoanalyst……………………………E Gogh

The fruit loving cousin…………………………….Man Gogh

An aunt who taught positive thinking………...…….Way-to Gogh

The little bouncy nephew…………………….……Poe Gogh

A sister who loved disco…………………………..Go Gogh

His niece who travels the country in a van……..…..Winnie Bay Gogh

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   A modern mother was explaining to her little girl about pictures in the family photo album.

The mother said, "This is the geneticist with your surrogate mother and here's your sperm donor and your father's clone. This is me holding you when you were just a frozen embryo."

"Who is that?" asked the daughter.
 
"Oh," answered the mother, "The lady with the very troubled look on her face is your aunt. She's the family genealogist!"

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Redneck Genealogy Poem
        Author unknown

Suzy Lee fell in love.
She planned to marry Joe.
She was so happy about it all,
She told her pappy so.

Pappy told her, "Suzie gal,
you'll have to find another.
I'd just as soon maw don't know,
but Joe is yo half-brother.

So Suzie forgot about her Joe,
and planned to marry Will.
But after telling pappy this,
he said, "There's trouble still."

You can't marry Will, my gal
and please don't tell your mother
cause Will and Joe and several mo
I know is yo half-brother!!"

But mama knew and said, "Honey Chile,
do what makes ya happy.
Marry Will or marry Joe,
You ain't no kin to pappy."

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  The Elusive Ancestor by Merrell Kenworthy

I went searching for an ancestor, I cannot find him still.
He moved around from place to place and did not leave a will.
He married where a courthouse burned. He mended all his fences.
And avoided any man who came to take the U.S. Census
He always kept his luggage packed, this man who had no fame,
And every 20 years or so, this rascal changed his name.
His parents came from Europe. They should be on some list
of passengers to the U.S.A., but somehow they got missed.
And no one else in this whole world is searching for this man.
So, I play geneasolitaire to find him if I can.
I'm told he's buried in a plot, with tombstone he was blessed;
but weather took engraving, and some vandals took the rest.
He died before the county clerk decided to keep records.
No Family Bible has emerged, in spite of all my efforts,
To top it off, this ancestor, who caused me many groans,
just to give me one more pain betrothed a girl named Jones.

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MURPHY'S LAW FOR GENALOGISTS

The public ceremony in which your distinguished ancestor participated and at which the platform collapsed under him turned out to be a hanging.

When at last after much hard work you have solved the mystery you have been working on for two years, your aunt says, "I could have told you that."

Your grandmother's maiden name that you have searched for four years was in a letter in a box in the attic all the time.

You never asked your father about his family when he was alive because you weren't interested in genealogy then.

The will you need is in the safe on board the Titanic.

Copies of old newspapers have holes occurring only on the surnames.

John, son of Thomas, the immigrant whom your relatives claim as the family progenitor, died on board ship at age 10.

Your great-grandfather's newspaper obituary states that he died leaving no issue of record.

The keeper of the vital records you need has just been insulted by another genealogist.

The relative who had all the family photographs gave them all to her daughter, who has no interest in genealogy and no inclination to share.

The only record you find for your great-grandfather is that his property was sold at a sheriff's sale for insolvency.

The one document that would supply the missing link in your dead-end line has been lost due to fire, flood or war.

The town clerk to whom you wrote for the information sends you a long handwritten letter which is totally illegible.

The spelling of your European ancestors' name bears no relationship to the current spelling or pronunciation.

None of the pictures in your recently deceased grandmother's photo album have names written on them.

No one in your family tree ever did anything noteworthy, owned property, was sued or was named in wills.

You learn that your great aunt's executor just sold her life's collection of family genealogical materials to a flea market dealer "somewhere in New York City."

Ink fades and paper deteriorates at a rate inversely proportional to the value of the data recorded.

The 37 volume, sixteen thousand page history of your county of origin isn't indexed.

You finally find your grandparent's wedding records and discover that the bride's father was named "John Smith".

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          GRANDMA AND THE FAMILY TREE

There's been a change in Grandma, we've noticed her of late,
She's always reading history or jotting down some date.
She's tracking back the family, we'll all have pedigrees.
Oh, Grandma's got a hobby, she's climbing Family Trees.

Poor Grandpa does the cooking and now, or so he states,
That worst of all, he has to wash the cups and dinner plates.
Grandma can't be bothered, she's busy as a bee
Compiling genealogy - for the Family Tree.

She has no time to baby-sit, the curtains are a fright,
No buttons left on Granddad's shirt, the flower bed's a sight.
She's given up her club work, the serials on TV,
The only thing she does nowadays is climb the Family Tree.

She goes down to the courthouse and studies ancient lore,
We know more about our forebears than we ever knew before.
The books are old and dusty, they make poor Grandma sneeze,
A minor irritation when you're climbing Family Trees.

The mail is all for Grandma, it comes from near and far,
Last week she got the proof she needs to join the DAR.
A worthwhile avocation, to that we all agree,
A monumental project, to climb the Family Tree.

Now some folks came from Scotland and some from Galway Bay,
Some were French as pastry, some German, all the way.
Some went on west to stake their claim, some stayed near by the sea,
Grandma hopes to find them all as she climbs the Family Tree.

She wanders through the graveyard in search of date or name,
The rich, the poor, the in-between, all sleeping there the same.
She pauses now and then to rest, fanned by a gentle breeze
That blows above the Fathers of all our Family Trees.

There were pioneers and patriots mixed in our kith and kin
Who blazed the paths of wilderness and fought through thick and thin.
But none more staunch than Grandma, whose eyes light up with glee
Each time she finds a missing branch for the Family Tree.

Their skills were wide and varied, from carpenter to cook
And one (Alas!) the record shows was hopelessly a crook.
Blacksmith, weaver, farmer, judge, some tutored for a fee,
Long lost in time, now all recorded on the Family Tree.

To some it's just a hobby, to Grandma it's much more,
She knows the joys and heartaches of those who went before.
They loved, they lost, they laughed, they wept, and now for you and me
They live again in spirit, around the Family Tree.

At last she's nearly finished and we are each exposed.
Life will be the same again, this we all supposed!
Grandma will cook and sew, serve cookies with our tea.
We'll all be fat, just as before that wretched Family Tree.

Sad to relate, the Preacher called and visited for a spell,
We talked about the Gospel, and other things as well,
The heathen folk, the poor and then - 'twas fate, it had to be,
Somehow the conversation turned to Grandma and the Family Tree.

We tried to change the subject, we talked of everything
But then in Grandma's voice we heard that old familiar ring.
She told him all about the past and soon was plain to see
The preacher, too, was nearly snared by Grandma and the Family Tree.

He never knew his Grandpa, his mother's name was ... Clark?
He and Grandma talked and talked, outside it grew quite dark.
We'd hoped our fears were groundless, but just like some disease,
Grandma's become an addict - she's hooked on Family Trees!

Our souls were filled with sorrow, our hearts sank with dismay,
Our ears could scarce believe the words we heard our Grandma say,
"It sure is a lucky thing that you have come to me,
 I know exactly how it's done, I'll climb your Family Tree!"

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 While looking for some of my ancestors, I found a census record that really makes me wonder what the census taker was thinking.

As I looked in the Saco, York County, Maine, census records for 1880, I found a listing for a George Sutherland on line twenty-four. George was age fifty-five and his wife Elizabeth was fifty. Living with them was a widow named Rachael Scurnmure, age eighty-three, who I assume to be the mother of either George or Elizabeth. Both Elizabeth and Rachael are listed as housekeepers. And what was George's occupation?  It's listed as "Too lazy to do anything."

I can't imagine that George himself was home the day the census taker came calling. So I wonder why the census taker, C.S. Hamilton, didn't simply write "unemployed" or leave the line blank as he did for others. Did one or both of the women harangue him about George's lazy work habits? Or did the census taker, perhaps with a sense of humor, simply shake his head and sigh, chuckling to himself while writing down exactly what he was told? 

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  A little girl asked  her mother, 'How did the human race appear?'

The mother  answered, 'God made Adam and Eve and they had children and then all mankind was made.'

Two days later the girl asked her father the same question.

The father answered , 'Many  years ago there were monkeys from which the human  race  evolved.'

The confused girl returned to her mother  and said, 'Mom, how is it possible that you told me the human race was  created by God, and Dad said
they developed from  monkeys?'

The mother answered, 'Well, dear, it is very  simple. I told you about my side of the family and your father told you about his.'

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A Genealogist's Christmas Eve
Author unknown

'Twas the night before Christmas
When all through the house
Not a creature was stirring,
Not even my spouse.

The dining room table with clutter is spread
With pedigree charts and with letters which said...
"Too bad about the data for which you wrote
Sank in a storm on an ill-fated boat."

Stacks of old copies of wills and such
Were proof that my work had become too much.
Our children are nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugarplums danced in their heads.

And I at my table was ready to drop
From work on my album with photos to crop.
Christmas was here, and such was my lot
That presents and goodies and toys I'd forgot.

Had I not been busy with grandparent's wills,
I'd not have forgotten to shop for such thrills,
While others had bought gifts that would bring Christmas cheers,
I'd spent time researching those birth dates and years.

While I was thus musing about my sad plight,
A strange noise on the lawn gave me such a great fright.
Away to the window I flew in a flash,
Tore open the drapes and yanked up the sash.

When what with my wondering eyes should appear,
But an overstuffed sleigh and eight small reindeer.
Up to the house top the reindeer they flew,
With a sleigh full of toys and 'ole Santa Claus, too.

And then in a twinkle, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of thirty-two hoofs.
As I drew in my head, and bumped it on the sash,
Down the cold chimney fell Santa--KER-RASH!

"Dear" Santa had come from the roof in a wreck,
And tracked soot on the carpet, (I could wring his short neck!)
Spotting my face, good 'ole Santa could see
I had no Christmas spirit you'd have to agree.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work
And filled all the stockings, (I felt like a jerk).
Here was Santa, who'd brought us such gladness and joy:
When I'd been too busy for even one toy.

He spied my research on the table all spread
"A genealogist!" He cried!  (My face was all red!)
"Tonight I've met many like you,"  Santa grinned,
As he pulled from his sack a large book he had penned.

I gazed with amusement--the cover it read
Genealogy Lines for Which You Have Pled.
"I know what it's like as a genealogy bug."
He said as he gave me a great Santa hug.

"While the elves make the sleigh full of toys I now carry,
I do some research in the North Pole Library!
A special treat I am thus able to bring,
To genealogy folk who can't find a thing."

"Now off you go to your bed for a rest,
I'll clean up the house from this genealogy mess."
As I climbed up the stairs full of gladness and glee,
I looked back at Santa who'd brought much to me.

While settling in bed, I heard Santa's clear whistle,
To his team, which then rose like the down of a thistle.
And I heard him exclaim as he flew out of sight,
"Family history is Fun!  Merry Christmas!  Goodnight!"

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