In no aspect of my life have I felt the influence of the Holy Ghost as strongly as I have felt it while doing family history research. I always knew that He was a comforter and a soother of souls. I know that He can warn us of danger. But I have come to know that in doing family history, the Holy Ghost has filled my heart, given me knowledge, and helped me to remember. He has been my research partner.

Here is an example of receiving knowledge. Once I was helping a coworker, Leann, with a genealogical task. She had been married for a short time in her younger life to an abusive alcoholic. Her ex-mother-in-law had been sympathetic, kind and very helpful to her. My friend felt that she had never let this lady know how much she appreciated her. The woman had died several years ago and Leann felt that she wanted to do her temple work out of appreciation for her kindness.

There was a big problem, though. She didn’t know the woman’s maiden name. Her married name was Nan Watkins. Leann wasn’t sure if Nan was her real name or a nick-name. We found Nan’s maiden name on her son’s birth certificate. It was Jones. Leann knew that Nan was the youngest and only daughter in a large family of boys. She knew that Nan’s mother had died when she was a baby. Nan’s widowed father brought the family to California to seek work during the Dust Bowl Tragedy. Nan had a hard and poverty-stricken life.

I searched for Nan Jones for weeks and weeks. I thought maybe Nan was short for Nanette, Nancy, Annette or Angeline. I couldn’t find any trace of her. After much frustration and prayer I had almost given up. I went to bed one night and in the morning I got up early and went to my computer. I knew Nan’s name. I typed in Nanny Jane Jones. Within seconds, the 1940 census came up with her father and all his sons and Nanny. I was overwhelmed with gratitude. I knew, at that moment, the Holy Ghost had filled in some knowledge that I didn’t have when I went to sleep. 

I have learned that the Holy Ghost can also cause us to remember. My little Swedish Grandmother, Anna, was illegitimate. Her mother gave her up when she was three. She was raised by wonderful foster parents in Gothenburg, Sweden. Her foster parents were members of the church. My grandfather met her when he was on his mission to Sweden in 1907-1910. In 1911, this poor farm boy from Idaho made the trip back to Sweden to see if he could get her to marry him. She agreed, but before she left Sweden she wanted to meet her biological father. Through some bribery of her biological mother’s friends, they arranged a meeting in a park with the suspected man and he confirmed to her that he was her father.

My grandmother’s background embarrassed my grandfather and as my mother and her siblings were growing up they never talked about it.  My mother said she once asked her mother who her father was and my grandmother just answered in her Swedish accent,  “O I came by the Vayside.”

My Grandmother was only 44 when she died in a car accident in 1937. Years went by and when I was in the fifth grade I had to give a report on Sweden in school. My grandpa happened to be at our house that evening so I asked him many questions about Sweden and his time there. I didn’t know why at the time, but he told me all of the things he hadn’t let his children know. He told me about the meeting in the park with my great-grandfather. And he told me the man’s full name. It was Carl Alfred Tengberg.

It was 35 years later (when I actually started caring about family history) that I looked at my pedigree chart and realized that the name and information for my great-grandfather was all wrong (a well meaning aunt had done the best she could). The memory of talking with my grandfather came back to me with exact clarity (I do not normally have a great memory). We fixed the name on the chart and were able to carry this line back to the early 1700’s. Just this year I got verification through DNA that Carl Alfred Tengberg was, in fact, my great grandfather. 

I have a testimony that the Holy Ghost will comfort and assist us. He can give us knowledge and  cause us to remember. He can assist us when we are 11 and just in the fifth grade or when we are as old as I find myself now.

Karen Stoddard – Consultant – Granite Family History Center