Contagious Genealogy: A Pandemic

Before the phrase, "But first, let me take a selfie!" reigned supreme in the late 2010s, my 2nd great grandparents, Nathan & Lizzie (Rockwell) Dixon, were already masters of photog culture. Their heyday was in the first half of the 20th century. Photography had only been invented a couple decades before they were born and had only gone mainstream when they were still in their youth. But it must have been an absolute hobby of theirs (or at least Lizzie's), because my family picture collection is filled with snaps of her and her husband. The two of them can certainly hold the title of first-ever influencers in our family tree. Here is just a selection of their photos over the years (and I'm positive I have several more hidden amongst my photo albums):

In the early morning hours of January 17th, 1994, a 6.7 magnitude earthquake rumbled through Southern California. The epicenter was in the city of Reseda, a neighborhood nestled within the San Fernando Valley, just south of Northridge which received superior damage. The initial thrust struck at 4:31 AM and lasted between 10-20 seconds. Map of southern California cities impacted by 17 Jan 1994 Northridge earthquake; USGS/ESRI. I was 8 years old at the time, living in Gardena, 30 miles south of its origin. My bedroom was in the northwest corner of our 2-story house, facing the street.  I was woken up in bed by a severe jolt followed by several more of them (there was no rolling or wave-like sensation with this earthquake). The house shook back and forth a bit, and then the transformer on the utility pole up the street blew up, and sparks were flying everywhere (which I could see from my bedroom window). My sister's bedroom was down the hall from mine (the northeast corner of the fron

My 3rd great grandmother was born in 1816; more than 2 centuries ago. There's no doubt she grew up in a very different world from my own. Here, I work in the entertainment industry; a business borne from cameras, negatives, film, and of course, the storytellers who used those tools to capture a moment in time.  My ancestor's life began the same year Joseph Nicéphore Niépce used the camera obscura to produce images on photosensitive paper for the first time. It would still be another decade before he managed to create a permanent image, and another 10+ years before Louis Daguerre patented a method for capturing images on metal (aptly named the daguerrotype).  My predecessor, Louisa Fanny Wilcox, would be in for a fanciful treat just about the time she reached her prime years. Just imagine having only ever seen your own likeness in a mirror, and then, like magic, you could freeze that image of yourself and turn it into an everlasting memory and keepsake! She clearly took advantag

Ever wonder who you inherited your dashing good looks from, those cute dimples, or how about that thinning hair line and thick love handles?  This week, I'm exploring the origins of physical traits in my family tree. The first one that instantly comes to mind are my eyes. I know exactly who I got the color from versus the shape of them! Many babies' irises can be seen changing colors for their first six months or so. I was told my parents thought for sure I was going to inherit my dad's blue eyes, because they stayed that way even nearing the 2 year mark. However, they ended up turning hazel -- the color of my mom's eyes. (Left) Beatrice (Millhouse) Foltz; (Right) Kira Foltz Now, as for the shape of my eyeballs, I have my dad to thank for that! And I know this, because we have the same football-shaped stigmatism in each of our right eyes. Plus, a lazy eyelid over it, to boot! (Left) Gary Foltz; (Right) Kira Foltz My long lashes definitely came from my maternal side. But

What are those stories that get passed down or talked about in your family that you've always wondered whether were true? I had the "we're descended from a Native American" tale, the "our ancestors came over on the Mayflower" thought, the "twins run in the family" bit, and many more, some of which have been debunked, some of which are absolutely true, and some that I still need to explore. To kick off the new year, I thought it best to revisit a connection my dad told me about when I was growing up. We lived in the "South Bay" in California, which was essentially all the cities directly south of Los Angeles near the beach (west of Anaheim and Disneyland).  There were two Bob's Big Boy restaurants on Hawthorne Boulevard in Torrance, one just south of Artesia Blvd., which became a Coco's some time before 2010 (and I remember eating once at the Coco's in the year leading up to my friend's wedding), and one just off of the Pac