When I was a teenager I attended a church youth outing and dinner. The afternoon was spent swimming.Since it was a warm sunny day I turned my natural reddish brown color from being in the sun.That evening at dinner I sat across from one of the boys in the group.I was shy and wanted to try to get into the conversation when the boy across the table said to me you look like an Indian.I was surprised by the comment.I couldn't decide whether it was meant for a compliment or a dig. I did not feel insulted.I remember feeling pride that someone would think I looked like a Native American. It was not until I was past thirty that my aunt told me that my great grandmother was maybe 1/2 Cherokee Indian. Since then I have had a yearning to trace documentation on all my ancesters and especially any Native American blood ties.I believe I am too far removed to pursue monetary gain of any kind.But my passion does not come from hopes of any monetary gain from the Cheerokee Tribe, only to know the history of my ancestors and to try to locate other living cousins. This is the essence of my endeavor on this Home Page dedicated to my grandmother, Nola Whitwell.
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