Earlier this month the Seattle Times ran a heartwarming genealogy story by Jan Burak Schwert about her husband's accidental meeting, in a German pub, of a man who shared both his interest in genealogy and his great-great-grandfather. The meeting itself was not planned, but the ground well-prepared, since they were in Germany, and that particular small town, searching for information on his ancestors. ("You fly down the street on a chance that you'll meet, And you meet—not really by chance.") Despite the dilution of so many generations, the two looked like brothers.
I'm not likely to have such an experience in a small, foreign town, since I must go back one generation further still to find my first ancestor not born in this country, and I don't think anyone would look at me and say, "Irish." Nonetheless there's something wonderful about connecting with long-lost relatives, even first cousins. :)
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