Kneeling with my family in Salt Lake in 1967, and kneeling with my father in Las Vegas in 1991, are some of the sweetest memories of my life. My dad and I didn’t do a lot of things together, although he did a lot of things for me. I became a genealogist because of something he sparked, and I do what I do today, including Keepa, because of those early genealogical experiences. For years I would call my father every few days to report what I had found in researching his family, and he was always as excited, as eager for the trivial details as I could hope. Every genealogist should be so lucky to have someone so eager to listen.
My mother was born in the covenant. She was baptized at age 8. My father was a convert; I was present at his baptism in 1964. My parents were endowed and sealed in the Salt Lake Temple in 1967; my brothers and I were sealed to them at the same time. I was there. I remember. My father was sealed to his deceased parents in the Las Vegas Temple in 1991. I know. I was there. I knelt as proxy for his mother.
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