Photo by Leighton Smith on Unsplash

How reading family history last night recharged my battery and TOTALLY changed this article

6PM last night, I should’ve been writing this.

Intended topic? Irrelevant now. Brain was having none of it. Tired and hungry.

Thoughts wandered to my grandfather.

I pulled out the family history my dad wrote 20 years ago, and started reading.

And rediscovered my GREAT-grandfather in a whole new way.

And mother is pregnant with #2.

ORPHANED. Working class. Victorian England.

Not good.

Visiting family members are horrified to see the rags he’s in, and cough up for better rags.

Yes, really.

In 1910, chafing under the rigid social hierarchy, he hears about cheap land in Canada if you emigrate.

Enough of this “Yes Sir Steven, no Sir Steven”. They jump, never to return.

• 2 of his 3 children are dead. Oh man …

• It’s so cold, he wakes up with his moustache frozen to the pillow

• Gets his land, builds a house, which the government promptly expropriates

• Buys more land, builds another house, the government expropriates that one too

Welcome to Canada, eh?

Nope. Builds a 3rd, and finally the government leaves him alone.

Becomes a successful property owner and landlord. Buys into a failing real estate business and turns it around.

His reputation around town?

HONESTY

THIS IS THE MAN I WANT TO BE LIKE

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David Kimbell

Curiosity. Questions. Simplicity. Principles. Meaning. The Vital Few, not the Trivial Many. Be your own Chief Questions Officer.