re: Genealogy fans: What are some cool facts about your family's history?

Story is long as hell but a good read if you have the time.

"It was told by the settlers that after Joe took up his abode on White River he was not contented with one Indian wife and took unto himself another one of the name of Cynthiana. She was a daughter of John Rogers, a white man who had married a full blood Cherokee woman. Many years after the occurrence of the story we have in mind Aney lived on the river and "Cyntha" lived in the Sugar Loaf Prairie. It was said that after Coker showed his affections for the second Indian woman the Indiana, who were numerous here at that time but were friendly, become greatly incensed at Joe''s conduct for having one too many wives of their kindred and made up their minds to put him out of the way.

But Coker understood the enmity they held against him and was constantly on the lookout for them to prevent them taking the advantage of him and thus it went on for some time when finally a bunch of the Indians got the drop on him and thought his scalp was in their grasp. It is told that Coker and others had went to Elbow Creek to kill bear. The majority of the men were afoot. It appears that a small band of Indiana were hunting here at the same time which was unknown to Coker and his friends. The Indians were all afoot and carried their bows and arrows and tommyhawks.

One day while Uncle Joe was hunting alone on the west side of the creek the Indians discovered and recognized him. He in turn knew that they were his enemies. Joe had his rifle and hunting knife. The band of Indians raised the war whoop and charged toward him. Knowing he had no chance for his life in contending against so many Coker reserved his fire and fled. The woods were open--that is it was divided into belts of trees and prairies without undergrowth or thickets or bresh. Coker was in the prime of life and stout and vigorous and he bounded along through the tall grass like a deer pursued by a pack of hounds. As he ran he looked back and perceived that the yelling band was gaining on him. This was not a good omen and he did his utmost to accelerate his speed. On came the noisy Indians who were thirsting for his blood and scalplock. Uncle Joe was not ready to surrender his life and he knew that his safety depended on his legs and he made good use of them.

The pursuing Indians yelled like demons and let fly several arrows at the retreating form of Coker but they went wide of their mark. The fast racing white man had no time to stop and exchange shots with the red men for his business lay rolling from there and that in a hurry. It was not long before the man drew near this bald hill. It lay directly in his course but he kept straight forward up the slope. Coker was afraid to turn to the right or left for fear the Indiana might head him off. By this time the white man was becoming tired and his breath was coming and going at much shorter intervals than common and before reaching the summit the Indians gained on him rapidly and as the pursued and pursuers went rushing along over the top of the knob the latter came near overhauling their intended victim. Thinking he would have to face death Joe thought he would stop and sell out to his enemies as dear as possible, but at this moment the red men thinking he was a a good as theirs yelled the louder which put new life in Joe''s system and without halting he renewed his running power to keep in advance of his foes.

A few of the fleetest Indians had dashed forward ahead of their companions and were almost in the act of striking him with their tommyhawks, when Coker threw down his rifle which impeded his progress and cried out in a loud voice as he ran, "Poor Joe", "Poor Joe" a half a dozen times or more for he believed he was a goner this time sure. By this time the white man and the foremost Indians had reached the slope on the opposite side from where he ran up and being relieved of his rifle he was now in better running order and he bounded along down the hillside like a rubber ball and soon outstripped the angry savages. Part of the Indians stopped to pick up Joe''s rifle and exult over the possession of it. Of course when these Indians halted it gave the man some advantage and he made good use of it. When the other red men stopped the fleetest ones clacked their speed and slowed up.

Very soon Coker looked back again and seen the Indians far in the rear. But he kept up the race when finally he lost sight of them. But on he went as fast as he could run over the rough ground and across glades, small prairies and wooded ridges. It was a desperate race. He looked back again but his pursuers if they were still following him were not in his sight. His strength was nearly exhausted and he could run but little further until he rested. Seeing a fallen tree a few yards ahead which had been blown down by a windstorm during the summer and he sought its friendly shelter of limbs and dead foliage and lay in concealment until his almost exhusted organs of respiration could equalize the circulation of blood then he poked his head out of the tree top and finding the coast was clear left his hiding place and went on and escaped.

No doubt the Indians could have followed him to his place of refuge in the treetop for he had left a plain trail behind him in the rank grass, but fortunately for him they abandoned the chase and turned in another direction. This bald hill was called Poor Joe from that day and retains the name to the present time."

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I get crazy interested when I dive into this stuff.

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Me, too. I just need to do a better job of documenting it - I got that open source Gramps program with some of it, but I've gone much further than I've actually documented. I found that one of my Great-great grandmothers was born in Cuba - from census records. She did not have a Spanish last name (and this was in the mid-19th Century), so there has to be a story in there, somewhere - lost in the mists of time because I have no living relatives on that side of the family - pretty much me and my sister - at least none we have contact with.

I'm a descendant of Erasmus Humbrecht, the man who painted the St. Louis Cathedral.

Also my 16th great uncle is Ponce de Leon, the jackass who went searching for the fountain of youth.

I initially wanted just to go back far enough to find the actual immigrants. Using Ancestry, it gets a little convoluted dating that far back. I was able to find the names of the guys that were born in France or the Canary Islands, but died in Louisiana. That alone is interesting AF.I wish I could find significant info on them though.

Britney Spears is like my 4th or 5th cousin. True story

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Welsh?

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English - in 17th century New England.

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My great grandfather was a officer in Napoleon’s army settled in New Orleans and eventually to St Landry Parish

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It seems a lot of Frenchmen in the 1800's arrived in NO and then settled in St. Landry Parish. My 4th GGF and his brother arrived in New Orleans in January of 1828. By 1840 they were living near Opelousas and by 1847 they had migrated and settled finally in the Bayou Chicot area. (At that time Bayou Chicot was still in Saint Landry Parish, as Evangeline Parish was not formed until 1910)

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One of my direct ancestors was hanged for having sex with a sheep

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But, you frick just ONE sheep...

Three ancestors on the Mayflower.

Great grandmother survived yellow fever in 1878 in Gonzales but 4 of her siblings didn't. 3rd Great grandfather had 33 slaves on a sugar plantation on Black Bayou. Sent 5 sons to fight for R.E. Lee in northern Virginia and 3 survived.