This is a second attempt to document my Ross family history and keep it from disappearing. A few years ago my son, Dan, took on the monumental task of compiling the original "The Book of Ross" from mountains of fragmented material that I dumped on him. The result was awesome! This effort is a revision of that original.
In this version, my goals are to preserve more anecdotes and more photographs, and to include immediate relatives whose name didn't end with "Ross." Specifically, I intend to include spouses and extended family along with whatever ancestry I can discover about them.
I mean for this book to identify "The Ancestors, descendants, and relatives of Howard Randall Ross (1912-1980) - covering the period from approximately 1651-2009."
Notably, I have removed the many old Ross names that have not proven to be related. I did, however, retain the Clan Ross history - so you can visualize how it all started ... so very long ago.
If you are kin and wish to update your status (including corrections, concerns or major life events, such as birth, death, marriage, divorce, etc.), contact me.
Begun July 8, 2009
Years ago, my father showed up on my doorstep with his old Army uniform, complete with medals, dog-tags, and the like. He asked if I wanted them. Not wanting to seem ungrateful, I said okay. I immediately set to work doing what I thought was right. I cut up the uniform, glued it to a plywood backing, made an oak frame, and mounted the accoutrements to it. In this form, I returned to him what he gave me - out of respect for him. I did not think I was performing some great feat. On the contrary, his serving our country was the real achievement.
For my fortieth birthday, my father gave me a tiny vial, a watch, and several briefcases. As he handed each over, he told their story.
The tiny vial contained an ounce of gold. It was panned from a river somewhere in Wyoming or Nebraska, my father explained… by my grandfather. The second gift wasn't just any watch. It was my grandfather's pocket watch… still in working order.
As for the briefcases, he simply proclaimed, "I am done with this." I knew what was in the briefcases. I remembered when he first painted our Coat of Arms - using me and my brother as models for the two "Savages". I remembered the tales of Cowboys and George Washington and indentured servants.
I promptly put away the panned gold and pocket watch - until my son is old enough to understand he should pass them on to his son. However, the briefcases (full of letters, photos, notes and legal documents) stayed in my closet, imposing obstacles reminding me of my duty.
Today I humbly submit this baggage back to him, in bound form. Not only to honor him for another great achievement, but also for my grandparents, aunts and uncles, brothers and sisters, and most especially all of our children. Please send email@example.com.
January 25, 2006