My love of genealogy began when I was 10 years old, when I first became curious about my own family and where we came from. What began as an interest in my own family history eventually became something much deeper.

Over the years, I came to realize that genealogy is not only about names, dates, and relationships. It is about people. Every name represents someone who lived, loved, struggled, worked, sacrificed, worshipped, raised families, served their country, and left something of themselves behind.

And I became especially aware of how many people are forgotten after they die.

I believe that people do not stop mattering simply because they are gone, and I believe their stories deserve to be remembered.

I research my own family, but I also want to help preserve the lives of people who might otherwise become nothing more than a name and two dates. Whenever possible, I want to learn who they were—not just when they were born and died, but something about the life between those dates.

I have a particular love for old photographs, documents, letters, military records, family stories, and other pieces of evidence that allow us to reconstruct a person's life. Sometimes those small pieces of history are all that remain.

I consider it an honor to help preserve them.

Every person buried in a cemetery was someone's child, parent, spouse, sibling, friend, neighbor, veteran, teacher, worker, or simply someone who mattered to another human being.

They mattered in life.

I believe they still matter after death.

That is why I continue to search, document, photograph, research, and remember.