132 YF

It’s been many years since I first preoccupied myself with the thought about making a family book. At that time I was still sitting by the school desk – and that was in the midst of the last world war. Probably it was a book that was the reason for it, written as a chronicle, where an old farmer with a heavy hand filled the leaves of a pigskin folio.

By the time I finished my family book, it would take almost 25 years. But for that no one needs to be deterred; I only refer to it, to at the same time state that a family book, a family chronicle is not something that can be trampled up from the earth, but which grows slowly – and which in each case will have its own face and appearance. No family chronicle will be the same as another.

Every family book begins with the genealogy. It provides the framework and confirms names, dates and occupations. It is now a matter of filling this with living history.

One starts by collecting certificates, information and letters and filling everything in with pictures. Another makes a genealogical file and on each file card he eventually fills in everything he experiences about the ancestors. A third may want to start it differently, but they all have the same goal: To preserve what was for the children and grandchildren.

When I now have to tell about my family book and how it came to be, I must say that in the beginning I had intended to make something more than just the family story. I saw – at first unconsciously, but gradually with growing clarity – always the family as part of the Volk unity and my endeavor was in the image of family history to let the image of the Volk be reflected again. If at first I had seen the difficulties that this task brought. I do not know if I had the courage to take action.

Like everyone else, I started with the simplest dates and names. But at the same time, I investigated the oral messages from the past and experienced one surprise after another. Without a doubt, these results have done their part to increase my enthusiasm.

First I examined the line on my father’s side, and then on my mother’s. Then the gaps were filled. I collected everything that I could only find from letters, wrote down what I heard from stories and anecdotes.

Old process files appeared in the archives; church books told about personal traits. The places where my ancestors had lived, the churches they had visited, the farms they had lived on, I sought these out and took pictures with me everywhere. In a small cemetery I found six tombstones where one could hardly read the scriptures. At one of the tombstones I saw one of the prettiest linden trees I have ever seen. It was just in June and it smelled so wonderful.

The years went by. The drawers in my desk were filled with material, but still lacked the style that should shape the substance. Who has not heard of the old family chronicles that are inherited from generation to generation? First and foremost, I had to write a chronicle of what the family had experienced, and I had to give this chronicle the opportunity for new chapters. That is precisely the difficulty; a chronicle is never complete, there is always something new coming. Either you want to add something new, or it’s the kids and grandkids. And finding the right solution has given me more headaches than anything else combined.

The old family book is studied

I wanted to tell my children about their ancestors, from the homeland of the family and from the living image of the fatherland. Suddenly I knew what I had to do. I had to simply and straightforwardly tell my children about things. Then I started. I thought of the old sagas and comfortingly began at the ancient time. I told about the ice trolls and how they fought. How the ice melted beneath them and the land that emerged, about how the glaciers flow out through the primeval valley and in the middle of it grew a small piece of land – the home of the ancestors. I told about the historical creation, until the ancestors themselves visibly appeared. I let the country and the people in their sagas and adventures come alive in words and visible in pictures. >>My father told by Peter Pück<<, or >>Grandmother J. and The Story of the Hundred Valleys<<, or The Old House and Devil’s Fence on St. Marien<<.

On the outside I put these words: House-and family-tablet (Genealogy) for the children Metelmann. Stories and pictures from the lives of their ancestors, with the home’s saga and new tales. For lecture, from father. Now I had the inner form, only the outer was missing. I had a solid folder made and in it came all the finished pages, the carefully glued pictures and finally a clear genealogy in list form. All the pages are without page numbers, so I can add new chapters and new stories at any time.

It all looks nice and excellent and is for the enjoyment of all who see and read it.

Two years ago it was under the Yule tree, and how many times it has been read since, one cannot count. Hopefully even more generations will enjoy it and write from their lives and relics, in the realm of the great fatherland.

– Metelmann

Source: SS-Heftet, nr. 5, 1944 p. 31-33, translated by Karl Jægerlund

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