Myra Bosch
I was inspired by my late brother's life task and brilliant book about our Jackson ancestors. Each family member received a copy. My husband, who had retired at that time, decided to create a family tree for our children. Our parents on both sides were deceased so he started looking up long forgotten aunts, uncles and cousins from his side of the family. He met up with a seasoned genealogist who introduced him to a computer programme which had exciting features such a variety of family trees and layouts for a book.
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| Hamburg, Germany |
My grandfather was one of the first missionaries in Zimbabwe and when, after a heart attack, he was sent back to South Africa to recuperate, he wiled his time away in the Cape Town Archives. I discovered the fruit of his labour in the top of my mother's bedroom cupboard when I cleaned out the house after her passing. It was a huge poster-sized family tree depicting the names, birth and death dates and that of the spouses of all my ancestors from the first Moller who set sail from Hamburg, Germany in 1654 to that of my mother and her 5 siblings, 10 generations later. I also found a large box of photos in which the only recognisable person on some of them, was my lovely young mother. However, I also found some group photos which I could only gather, from the writing on the back, was my grandmother and grandfather, one with their first child, the next with two children, then with four children. I was pleasantly surprised to recognise features of my grandparents in myself and my cousins. As my mother is the fourth child and she and my youngest aunt are the only dark-haired siblings in the family of 6, I began to follow her growth and development in each of the photos. I was moved to discover that I was the spitting image of my mother as a baby.
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| The vicarage at Morgenster Misson, Zimbabwe |
The only family line which was left for me to research was that of my grandmother on my mother's side. I went to see my mother's only living sister, who was 87 at the time. She had a remarkable memory and could give me many stories about life at the Morgenster Mission, but she knew very little about my great-grandparents. I remembered two black wood candlebra with the inscription Ceylon 1902 carved in the base which stood on my mother's piano. I wanted to know where they had come from. My aunt told me that my great-grandfather and my grandmother's two eldest brothers had fought in the Anglo Boer War. I was astounded to hear that my great-grandfather had been wounded twice. The three of them had been captured and deported to Ceylon. That's as far as her knowledge of her grandparents went. She could not remember her grandmother at all.
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| ABW prisoners of war, Diyatalawa |
I contacted the Anglo-Boer War museum in Bloemfontein and for a nominal fee, I was given the name of the camp in which these two brothers had been held. On the internet, I found the name of an old book with photos of the Diyatalawa camp and of some of the inhabitants of the huts. One of the photos was of all the Smits in the Diyatalawa camp. Imagine my excitement when, lying in front of the group, I found the two brothers. Someone had written the words "Smit brothers" on their images. I scratched amongst my mom's old photos and found a wedding photo which I suspected was that of my grandparents. Now I had the photos of the great uncles, I could compare them with that of the two men on the wedding photo. They were a perfect match. The photo was definitely that of my grandparents, even though the groom was a few kilograms heavier. A feature that clinched it was my grandfather's habit to stand with his head slightly tilted to the right.
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| Wedding picture of Oupa Mollie and Ouma Killie Möller |
I now knew what my great-grandmother looked like: a formidable, strict-looking but handsome, middle aged woman, sitting to the right, in front of the bride. My great-grandfather, then, had to be the elderly, emaciated gentleman sitting on the left. However, this man looked approximately the same age as his sons behind him and mentally retarded. The two ladies on the right could only be my grandmother's two sisters, but who on earth was the tall, dark-haired handsome young man staring into the distance. My grandmother did have a much younger brother, but if she was married in 1902, he could only be 16 years old. This man looked at least 20!
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| The future violinist is in the centre of this picture |
At this stage my aunt had told me about a cousin, once removed, who lived in a town nearby. I found his telephone number on the internet and contacted him. They invited us over for tea one Sunday. He was the youngest son of my grandmother's youngest brother, MTR. What an amazing man! He was an accomplished violinist and had built a violin from matchsticks which he played in the Bloemfontein City Hall accompanied by the national orchestra and he had a newspaper report to prove it.
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| My great-grandfather, Cornelis Johannes Van Rooyen Smit |
He told me that my great-grandfather had lived with them when he was but four years old and that he had died and had been buried in Ugie, but my aunt swore that she remembered that my great-grandfather had lived and died at Morgenster Mission in Zimbabwe. However, both of them remembered him having planted a very successful vegetable garden. They were both more or less the same age. Who was right? The only thing I could do was to visit the two venues and check the graveyards. Going to Zimbabwe was impossible. That left Ugie.
[Click here to read about the outcome of Myra's journey of discovery - Ed.]