A Time for Us

Wednesday morning, Sept 27th had finally come to carry us back to America.  We packed our bags to the brim and left the rest of our New Zealand possessions in several boxes in the hall for the maids to parse out amongst themselves.  Our plan was to go to town for our last breakfast but we found ourselves having just enough time to get to the airport to return our trusty rental car and get checked in.  Our first leg of the journey was on Jetstar.  We were flying directly back to Auckland and then onto America on Air New Zealand.

We arrived in Auckland with 7 hours before takeoff so Bob had arranged a meeting in Auckland with Colin Nairn’s sister Joan.  We got all our luggage checked in and grabbed a cab to Joan Nairn Bielby’s home.

Joan welcomed us to her home by giving us a tour of everything…even the linen closet. We were shown the two bathrooms and guest room as well.  She had invited Ross MacFarquhar, who is a family member on the other side of Joan’s family and also the man that Colin Nairn entrusted all the genealogy work he had done before he passed away.

Joan was quite an accomplished business woman.  She told us all about it.  She married but never had children.  In the end we were able to take pictures of what genealogy she had.  The connections are not clear with her.  Colin is her brother but he lists two mothers on two different pedigree charts with two sets of siblings.  We have reached out to the family to get clarification.  So once again, we dined with a family we aren’t sure is ours!

We grabbed a cab back to the airport and made our way to the airplane that would take us home…

This is the view of us leaving Auckland.

And this is our view when we landed safely in Phoenix!  When you travel across that much water it can be a bit unnerving.  I said an instant prayer as the wheels touched ground for our safe arrival home.

Our roadmap

We drove over 5,000 miles, walked 600 miles and road a bus and two ferry’s for a 500 miles.  

And now the battle with jet lag…uggg.

It feels just like this!

We were landing just in time to head up to the ranch to see our kids and watch General Conference.  I was a little nervous as to how we were going to handle our jetlag because I thought we landed on a Thursday.  When I let everyone know that we had landed safely Kendra texted and said she thought we weren’t arriving until Thursday…I told it was Thursday and then checked my watch…WEDNESDAY!  Bob and I spent the whole next day regrouping and sleeping in intervals to adjust.  I am glad to say that after a week we are finally adjusted.

Friday came.  Kendra and Jessica were coming up with their kids so we jumped in their cars and headed for the ranch around 2:00.  We go 4 months without seeing the lodge all the time but this time my stomach was full of butterflies.  I was so excited to spend this time with our Arizona family and to see the lodge!

When we arrived I heard the squealing of my Worsley grandchildren coming from the kitchen.  It was a bit dark but when they finally located me it was the greeting of a life time.  Joy, Joy Joy all around.

October Conference 2017

I was particularly excited to watch general conference because of our time away.  I wondered how it would feel and what would be said that would confirm all the things that I had learned in our time away.  I remember the last two days in New Zealand Bob and I talked about how we were feeling about going home.  Had we done enough, accomplished what we set out to do, were we fully committed to the life changes we had determined to make, would we be resolved or fall back into the chaos that we left?  It was hard to tell…until we got home.

Everything is new for me.  Our cars, our home and even the streets that we have driven for almost 37 years.  I felt light and lite, almost as though my resolve for a new way of living made everything new again.  It feels as though even Bob and I are starting with a new view of each other and our marriage is even new.  This time away with just each other helped strengthen our relationship by working through and letting go of our old scripts and starting a new dialogue…one that is safe and open.  Our new regard for each other, minus the old baggage, has transformed us.  I feel so much stronger as a woman and a daughter of God.  I am clear on who I am, why I am here and with whom I trust to guide me along my mission.  I just don’t care what the world thinks anymore.  I am on His errand and that is so liberating.  I feel divine purpose.  My view of Consolari is one of…I’ll do my best in a healthy way.  In the end, I will not sacrifice what is most important to me for a hope of something I cannot control the outcome of.  I am embracing essentialism and losing the chaos.  The books and study that went into this sabbatical helped me find my way back to myself.  The greatest insight was that we detect our mission, not invent it.  The authentic life based on guiding principles like love, courage, faith, commitment, hard work.  These will guide me.

The ability to get far enough away was key to our success.  We simply could not respond to issues back home.  Even the time difference acted as a filter for communication.  I have told several people that God either started or ended with New Zealand.  His hand in creating this beautiful place gave us both a lot of reasons to feel awe and regain our eternal perspective.  It was hard work to be sure.  There was both laughter and tears.  We both felt the benefit of detoxing and letting go.  We rewrote our old scripts in almost everyway.   My tendency to live in fear and smallness did not serve me, my mission or God.

Bob’s thoughts on the Sabbatical:

1. Sabbaticals Rock!  Relax, detox, read good books about what’s important in one’s life, personality profile yourself again, detect your mission, meaning and purpose in life given your unique talents, decide which jungle you should be hacking trails in, which wall gets the ladder, then simplify to the essentials you will spend time on for the rest of your life.  Go somewhere very different and as far away as possible to shake your mind out of its comfort zone and think differently.  Clear your calendar and block as many distractions from home as possible.  Go home refreshed and ready to engage with what really matters and is consistent with who you are!
2. Really enjoy meeting new people and making connections.  To tell you the truth our methodology was unorthodox…family tree connections which is the ultimate in connectivity and attending random branches of our church and socializing a bit.
3. See the unique natural sites of the area.
4. Hike, walk, bike, or just sit on the beach, a bench in the park or a rock on top of a mountain…breathe and be in the present with the totally unique canvas God has made for man!
5. Specifically, we will do less, focus more, go big on the few things we chose to do, be true to our distinct gifts and go for maximum impact for the balance of our lives…planning on max of 20 years.
6. Landing back home with family that missed us dramatically and capping the sabbatical with a Spiritual Feast from the LDS General Conference (12 hours of best wisdom in 10-15 minute “TED” talk chunks).
7. Work product from Sabbatical was a gift to my father on his 90th birthday of 800 pages of research on Forsyth line in New Zealand that our family didn’t know existed.  The work product is the start of dialog with extended families in the USA and New Zealand.

AMEN

 

God’s hands are in the details.

…even in the sawmill business. It was on our 2nd to the last day before we were to leave New Zealand.  We were traveling back to the south end of the island to visit with a relative we had found by the name of Irma Hughes.  We also had new information on the location of the Forsyth Sawmill and knew we would be passing it on our way to Irma’s home.  While passing through Balclutha Bob randomly turned into a hotel to use a phone book.  We were looking for the number of Bruce Wilson who knew the Forsyths and would know the location of the sawmill.  Jean Latte, the manager of  the Highway Lodge Motel pictured below, helped us find Bruce Wilson’s phone number.  We made the call right there and then but no answer, so she pulled out a map and showed us exactly where the sawmill was…”It is an old red building on the right side of the road in Glenomaru.” She is somewhere in her late 60’s and had lived in the area all her life and knew Bruce and the sawmill well.  We told her we were doing genealogy for our Forsyth line.  She smiled and asked if Bob was related to Winnie Forsyth?  Yes!  She said that upon occasion she would visit Winni’s store in Owaka as a little girl.  She will always remember how kind Winnie was and the small room filled to the brim with all kinds of trinkets and magazines and that the dark wood floors would creak as you walked on them.  She is also the family that ran the sawmill we had first pictured as we were driving to Owaka.  God’s hand!

This is a picture of the hotel we stopped at.  We literally parked in this very spot!

We send prayers to Jean who is currently undergoing chemotherapy for pancreatic cancer.  It’s amazing how quickly you connect to people, even on the other side of the world.

Introducing the Forsyth Sawmill.

So we were off with our miracle information!  Jean was right, the sawmill was red.

The sawmill was located on the Matuanui Farm.  In 1911 Alexander Forsyth owned this farm.  He was the son of John Sr. and his second wife Elsie .  After Mary Hunter, John Sr. first wife, passed away, he married Elsie Laughton, who was a widow and came to the marriage with six children.  She was only 34 when she married John Forsyth who was 67 at the time.  They had three children from their union.  The first child was Mary Ann, which would later be known as Aunt Annie.  She never married and worked for the Salvation Army and rented boats on the shores of False Island at Cannibal Bay.  Next was Alexander, who was a very accomplished and respect businessman and farmer.  He too never married. The last was Christina, which Colin Nairn claims is his mother.  We are still working to verify that.  Alexander eventually sold the farm to Bruce Wilson which is why Bruce knows the history of the sawmill, the farm and the family.  We now come full circle.

And what would a farm be without a…Yak?

Bob stands next to the sign welcoming you to the Matuanui Farm.  The video does not show the sawmill but it is just to the right of the farm.

Now off to Owaka Museum where much of the Owaka Forsyth family history is archived.

The picture below is Winifred (Winnie) Forsyth born in 1900.  She was the first child of John Forsyth Jr (John Sr. last child) and wife Annie Anderson.  Next was William (Bill) Alexander, born in 1901, Annie Isabelle (she went by Isabelle) born in 1904, John Otto (went by Otto) 1906, Mary (Maisie) Hunter, born 1908.  Mary and Isabelle were the only two daughters to marry and have children.

Winnie was mentioned earlier by Jean, the hotel manager.  She was loved by everyone in the area.  She spent her whole life in Owaka.  She never married and made a living owning a store in the front of her home where she sold all kinds of treasures.  It was called the Emporium. The Owaka museum has dedicated a display case with items from her store after her passing.  She ran her store for 50 years.

She also opened her home for boarders and often stored these magazines under the mattress’s which, they claim, made for a very lumpy sleeping.

While at the museum we learned that John Forsyth Sr. raised his family on a farm on False Island.  If you look closely you will see the red arrow that gives you the location of where False Island is in reference to the South Island.  The second picture shows the claw like appearance of False Island.  This is where John Forsyth Sr. farmed his land.  It was called False Island because ships at sea thought it was an island.

This is the home that John built for his family.  The picture is of Elsie, John Sr.s second wife and their daughter Annie.  Annie is the daughter that never married and worked for the Salvation Army.  She is also famous for renting out these four boats in the summer to locals and visitors alike.

This ship is important to the family story.  It is called the Surat and hit land after a drunk captain lost his way and rammed it into the shore next to False Island on Cannibal Bay. John Sr. took the wood from the ship and built this home.

We found this replica in the Owaka museum.

Next and last stop would be the Hughes home in Tapanui.  As we drove into their lane we entered what I thought was a lovely country subdivision.  It was so beautiful.  Thanks to google we promptly found their home and Irma was waiting for us by the door.

We went into the kitchen, where once again, was laid out volumes of papers and pictures.  This was most exciting as we knew before going to see her that she was a real, confirmed relative.  Irma is an aunt of Blair Walker, who runs the vineyard.  She even had a picture of his little family.  This picture was taken when we dropped in to meet Blair at his Fenton Road Vineyard.

After Bob took photos of all the papers, John, Irma’s husband, wanted to take us on a tour of their 200 acre farm where they specialize in selling cut flowers of all varieties.  My favorites were the peonies, hydrangeas, tulips and daffodils.  He is not only a farmer but a rancher with a 100 head of cattle and 700 sheep.  When we got back, Irma had prepared a lovely dinner for us called “Tea”.  Not sure why because there was no tea involved.  While we finished up she prepared a big bowl of milk, grabbed some baby bottles and said it was my turn to feed the orphaned baby lambs…  I was delighted to oblige.

The evening was coming on fast and we had a long journey home.  I was a little sad to leave Irma and John.  They were wonderful to visit with and truly felt like family.  As we got in the car Irma wished us well and told us that she hoped to see us again.  I knew that was probably never going to happen.  What an amazing thing family is.  Here we are having just met this couple and they felt so much like family.

Irma and John Hughes

We made our way home late that night to get ourselves packed for our long journey home.  Of all our adventures I am most grateful for finding family…

 

We began our day driving 2.5 hours to Invercargill for our last church service in New Zealand.  This was one of the first branches that had more caucasians than Maori.  The Bishop seemed a bit scattered and had a few adaptations to the service. There were two boys from Primary on each side of the podium standing as sentinels to remind us to be reverent.

The bishop seemed a bit scattered.  Picture a professor being late to his class with papers in disarray under his arm.  He stopped to ask our name and where we were from and then off to shake hands and exchange pleasantries on his way to the pulpit. I told Bob that there was no way he was going to remember our names, let alone where we were from.  The meeting began…”I’d like to welcome Brother and Sister Worsley from Arizona.”  Reminder: Always think the best of people:)!

I think this cute little Maori girl in the picture below knew I was taking this picture of her family…during church.  It is hard to sneak pictures in a meeting you are not suppose to be taking pictures in…

We were excited to visit Invercargill after Roy Shearstone from KeriKeri told us the history of one of their most famous citizens.  The movie “The World’s Fastest Indian” was actually pretty good.  It is a good clean family activity!  It reminded me that it is the heart that carries us to the finish line…not the brain.  Definitely a feel good film.

Herbert James “Burt” Munro (Bert in his youth; 25 March 1899 – 6 January 1978) was a New Zealand motorcycle racer, famous for setting an under-1,000 cc world record, at Bonneville, 26 August 1967.^[2] This record still stands; Munro was 68 and was riding a 47-year-old machine when he set his last record.^[3]

Working from his home in Invercargill, he worked for 20 years to highly modify the 1920 Indian motorcycle that he had bought that same year. Munro set his first New Zealand speed record in 1938 and later set seven more. He travelled to compete at the Bonneville Salt Flats, attempting to set world speed records. During his ten visits to the salt flats, he set three speed records, one of which still stands.

His efforts, and success, are the basis of the motion picture The World’s Fastest Indian (2005), starring Anthony Hopkins

Next stop…Bluff

Bluff (Māori: Motupōhue),  It is the southernmost town in New Zealand  and, despite Slope Point and Stewart Island being further to the south, is colloquially used to refer to the southern extremity of the country (particularly in the phrase “from Cape Reinga to The Bluff”).

Invercargill was only a 10 minute drive to Bluff.

   Cape Reinga is on the left, Bluff is on the right.

Our pictures when we visited both.  Note Bob is always in is Sunday clothes because all these site seeing trips were after our 10:00 church service.

 Cape Reinga is on the left, Bluff is on the right.

I loved this first picture as it captures a flock of seagulls just taking off

…and of course a light house.

Apparently dogs like to chase Seagull!

This is the disputed island mentioned in the Bluff details above.  If you look closely you can see the light house.

We take our leave of Bluff and begin our journey toward Owaka where we hope to find family in their local cemetery.  This was a stop we had not anticipated but it was well worth it.  The wind was so strong I felt as though it would lift me off the ground. You could hardly keep your balance.  I am particularly proud of the framed picture with the buffalo grass.  I’m not sure what the dynamics of taking a good picture are but this was one that worked and I keep imagining how proud Annie would be of me…

Another unintended detour.

We knew that Bob’s ancestors were in the logging business so when we came upon this logging site we had to stop.  Just maybe they worked there, touched the equipment, built the boiler.  At the very least, it was an historic marker for what they would have experienced, which was almost as cool…but not quite.

As it turns out, it was not the Forsyth Sawmill but we would like to imagine they visited this mill and worked with the owners since it was only about 10 miles away from the Forsyths sawmill.

We are finally on our way to find the Owaka Cemetery.  Every city in New Zealand has these bright yellow signs directing you to their cemetery and Owaka was no exception. You can see the cemetery just beyond the sign…

It was beautifully manicured.

We came to New Zealand to find this one single grave.

John and Mary Hunter Forsyth

In Loving Memory of John and Mary Forsyth, Late False Island

We also found this grave of what we assume was a stillborn child of the Ruffell family. We aren’t sure they are related to our Ruffell family that left New Zealand to go to Salt Lake City but we didn’t want to leave any stones “Un Photographed”.

These are gravestones with names that may be related.  The Barr grave may be connected to the Forsyth Barr family.  Katie Millar may be of some relation to the Millar that married the Forsyth that was killed in a railroad accident.  He is the one that has his own gravestone.  All of this is in my previous post from our Dunedin graveyard search many posts ago.

After our tour of the cemetery Bob determined it we needed a phone book to look up any possible Forsyth’s living in Owaka.  We did not want to leave anything to chance before we left.  So he pulled into a bar and asked the bartender if he had a phone book or knew of any living Forsyth’s still in the town.  A woman at the bar came over and said she knew Winnie Forsyth very well and that Winnie was most beloved in the town.  She knew her well as a child and then said her father, Alec Black would love to talk to us.  He had a lot of memories not only of Winnie but of Otto and Bill too.

Bob came back to the car and said…”I think we are going to have to stay overnight here!” Apparently the bar trip was a success.  Alec’s home was just around the corner. When we arrived, I think I was as excited to just go inside this very old home!  Oh the history of this little old house!  

Alec was at the door to meet us.  He took us into the first room on the right.  It was an odd home.  It was made of a main hallway with every room coming off of it, each with their own door.  Even the living room had its own door.  I suppose it was to help keep each room warm in the winter.  I’m just pointing out this was not an “open floor plan”.

The rooms center was clear except for a very worn red carpet.  The clutter hung to the walls and cabinets in an oddly disorganized pattern.  Alec had no teeth and his clothes were worn.  Each elbow of his sweater had holes and his shoes had seen their better days and yet he was as good of host as you could have conjured up in a castle.  He certainly had lots of stories, some very revealing about Otto.  I’m pretty sure Otto was not happy with all the revelations coming out of Mr. Black’s mouth.  I didn’t mind.  It added color and laughter to our conversation and painted a real person who had a real life right there close to Owaka.  The daughter came over to make sure we connected and told us of Winnie and her great skill at marketing and selling her wares.  She said she would take a Barbie doll with a missing arm, tell a wonderful story of its history and sell it for a dime.

Bob is full of questions and when Alec could not answer some of them he put Bob on the phone with Bruce Wilson.  That is how we made our first contact with Bruce.  He had a great deal of information and Bob was writing it down as best he could on a 3×5 piece of paper.

During all of this, Alec’s wife Margaret, whom we had just been introduced to had gone missing.  Her daughter had warned us that she was in the early stages of Alzheimers so I was a little concerned about where she might be.  Luckily Alec realized she was gone and had his daugher go find her.  She came in sheepish as could be and would only sit on the couch holding her hands.  When it came time to talk about her memories of Winnie though, she just came alive.  Winnie had taught her all she knew about gardening, even though their age difference was 40 years! She then fell silent again…

After I had thoroughly taken in all the intricacies of the room my eyes fell upon these knitting needles and yarn.  I asked her if this was her work and she simply nodded her head yes.  I snapped a few pictures hoping I would not be noticed but I just fell in love with the idea of all this knitting.

Look at the detail of the hat that looks like it has been woven like a basket.  I’m not certain she can still knit like this and I wished she would have talked to me about it.  I really hope that she has not yet been robbed of this memory.  I can not imagine how silent her already very quiet life must feel like.  Life can be simple and survivable.  I’m just not sure I could handle that simple of life!

We thanked the Blacks for their hospitality and set off for Belclutha, hoping to beat the sun before it set on Hill Cemetery.  We did find some grave markers but it was just getting too dark to see. We ended this sabbath day and the long drive home grateful for all the doors opening to find family connections.

Our history is important.  The stories of our ancestors help us connect to similar personalities and traits that we share.  So many times we commented on how much Winnie looked like Grandma Christiansen or the strong entrepreneurial spirit of this creative and industrious family.  Their lives were hard as they pioneered a new country far from their Scottish home.  I tip my hat to them and hope we will be further guided on this journey to connect family.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Our purpose for the whole trip that day was to go and visit with Irma Hughes.  She is the granddaughter of Isabelle Forsyth Walter, and great granddaughter of John Jr and Annie Anderson.  John and Annie is Isabelles parents.  These family trees can get really confusing.

We had a lovely visit with Irma and her husband of 62 years, John Hughs. They own a farm where they produce and sell cut flowers.  The grow peonies, hydrangeas, daffodils, to name a few.  They also have cows and sheep for meat and wool.  John was born and raised on the original farm and eventually purchased a total of 200 acres.  After they were married, the lived in the old ranch house but eventually built the home they live in now.  It has a magnificent view!

Meet Ian and Susan Gazzard.  Bob, having proven his sleuth skills, found this couple in Wanaka, just an hour drive from Queenstown.  Susan is the Forsyth but her husband is the genealogist.  They had all kinds of stories and histories to share with us.  We learned that there were three different Forsyth’s that came from Scotland to New Zealand starting in the mid 1800’s.

We were not able to make an immediate connection but we have a lot to work with once we get home.  Susan had prepared a lovely lunch for us before we left.  Though Bob and Susan may not be close blood relatives, by the time we left we felt like family.

As we were about to leave they gave us a tour of their gardens.  There were some major master gardening skills in that yard.  She cut this beautiful flower for me.  I have seen it all over the islands but did not know the name until today…it’s a Camelia.

We have passed this fence several times as we made our way to church last Sunday and to the Gazzard’s today.   I’m not sure how hanging that many bras on a fence helps the breast cancer cause but it is definitely an eye catcher!

Fiordland – Scandinavian word for steep valley (fjord)

A great object lesson – The Plimsoll Line

Right before we boarded the ship, Bob pointed out the plimsoll lines on the side of it. These markings tell you how much weight you can put on a ship to ensure a safe sailing. The salt in the ocean makes ships more bouyant so you can load more.  Fresh water lakes limit the amount you can put on the ship/boat.  Elder Holland used this as allegory to life in a speech he gave.

We all have our “plimsoll line” or our limits and to be mindful not to put more self-inflicted burden on ourselves than we can manage.

Milford Sound was a sensory overload from the time we entered the park.  We decided to spring for the bus ride because the roads are so narrow and Bob would have missed most of the scenery.  Best decision of the day…besides going to Milford Sound of course.

These pictures below were taken on our way  the Sound…

The tourism industry has found all kinds of ways to add adventure to your experience. We couldn’t tell what the pod was for hanging below this helicopter.

This is the tunnel we went through to get to the Sound.  The road was rough and the roof leaked!  Just a bit scary when you’re in a large touring bus!

The Homer Tunnel is a 1.2 km (0.75 miles) long road tunnel in the Fiordland region of the South Island of New Zealand, opened in 1953. New Zealand State Highway 94 passes through the tunnel, linking Milford Sound to Te Anau and Queenstown, by piercing the Darran Mountain range at the Homer Saddle.

I wanted to find a video to help explain to my grandchildren what a glacier was.  The change they make over millions of years to the planet are not only astonishing but breathtakingly beautiful!

Glaciers leave only rock cliffs with no vegetation and yet Milford Sound had a lush green covering of vegetation.  This lichen covered stone is why.  The mineral allows moss to grow on it.  The moss can hold a seed and the seed sprouts and finds cracks for its roots and a tree is born.  This is why, with no soil on the fiords, plants can still grow.

At Milford Sound

If you look closely you will see the horizontal lines made by the glaciers millions of years ago.  To witness these markings is like being transported back in time.

I am naming this a “Cloud Bridge”.  The weather forecasted clear blue skies.

 I’m glad they were wrong.

They claim the remains of this glacier, pictured in the middle, is around 200M years old.

This is just the “Cloud Bridge” from different distances.

This is a Kākāpō.  

This is the only parrot to survive the cold and altitude of Milford Sound.

We saw one on our way the Sound!  He was either was bathing or had an itch…

Another mark of a glacier is the U shaped valleys they leave in their path.

The Milford Sound glacier eventually made its way to the ocean which then filled the basin made by the glacier.  Because the Sound receives the highest rainfall in the world the water is actually part ocean, part lake, each having their own ecosystem.  Rain on top, sea water on the bottom.

Length – 9.94 miles – Average Depth – 1082.68 Ft. – Widest Point 1.2 Miles

Narrowest Point – 1.2 Miles – Entrance -1804 Ft. – Rainfall – 21.52 Ft.

Mean Winter Temp –  34 F – Mean Summer Temp – 64 F

(This conversion was more for me than anyone else!)

These are the seals that got kicked out by the dominant males for this years mating season.  You can see that they were very bummed out…

This is the longest, always running, waterfall in the world.  You cannot see it but there is a monstrous mountain behind it that feeds it.  The area at the base was the original cemetery for the first settlers.  The legend is that they buried them standing up and facing the waterfall so they could enjoy the view for eternity.

“All Creatures of our God and King”

I’m admittedly an emotional person.  I feel deeply in moments like this.  Especially when it carries with it such history from millions of years ago.  I found myself quietly humming the tune “All Creatures of our God and King”.  I could only remember the first line:

All creatures of our God and King
Lift up your voices and with us sing
Alleluia, alleluia

I quietly hummed my way through this song over and over again as I watched in awe the majestic creation we call earth and silently wiped away tears along the way.  The earth is, according to science, 4.5 billion years old.  While touring Milford Sound I began to realize the incredible length of time it took to first, create the design of the earth and then create the earth itself.  Earth was the home God was creating for us…it was all for us.  God, in his tender mercies, spent billions of years curating this space for his children so that we could have a place to call home for only a few thousand years. The math reveals our time on earth as .00000333 years compared to the 4.5 billion years if you consider that Adam and Eve arrived 6,000 years ago.  Wikipedia claims the first homo sapiens arriving from Africa 200k years ago.  Either way…it is still a fractions.  We are here for an almost immeasurable amount of time.  What kind of magnificent love is that!

Angels sent this song to my memory as a witness that I am not alone, that the heavens are aware of me. This was an important moment, reminding me of my eternal connection.   I realized the tremendous patience it took to get this earth thing right and His unwavering love for all of us.  This will forever be my “Milford Sound” hymn.

All creatures of our God and king
Lift up your voice and with us sing
Alleluia, alleluia
Thou burning sun with golden beam
Thou silver moon with softer gleam
Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia,

Thou rushing wind that art so strong
Ye clouds that sail in heaven a long
Alleluia, alleluia
Thou rising morn in praise rejoice
Ye light of evening find a voice
Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia,

Thou flowing water pure and clear
Make music for thy Lord to hear
Alleluia, alleluia
Thou fire so masterful and bright
That gives to man both warmth and light
Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia,

After a long day of travel and sightseeing we turned the corner to Queenstown and saw this sunset…need I say more?

Alleluia

“God Be Praised”

 

 

 

We walk by this everyday and never noticed these trees…spring is here at last!

Caught red handed deadheading these geraniums.

Believe it or not we took these pictures hanging out on a park bench.

Bob enjoying life.

Our home in Queenstown

Tomorrow we head to Milford Sound for a cruise in the Fiordlands.   I suspect our cameras will never be able to grasp the magnificent beauty we will see but we will try.

Glenorchy was a short 1 hour drive north of Queenstown.  The drive was the most scenic of our trip so far…

Found this waterfall right next to the road to Glenorchy

No quaint little town is complete without a barn…by a lake…with a pier.

My kind of Country Store next to the Saturday’s Farmer’s Market

And if all this weren’t enough…we randomly pull into a parking lot of a small diner and a war memorial with a John Forsyth and Doug Forsyth’s name on it.  They both lost their lives in World War I.

One of the reasons we traveled all the way to the LDS Gore Branch on Sept 17th was because it was close to Dunedin and records show that we have ancestors buried there. On those tombstones would hold the information key to getting their temple work done. It warmed my heart as I watched Bob begin the search for his Forsyth line.  It was truly a hearts of the children turning to their fathers moment.  I felt like I was Sherlock Holmes setting out on a trip of discovery!  Though they are not my family, they are Bob’s and they are my children’s and grandchildren’s bloodlines and I found myself surprisingly excited!

The Northern Cemetery is one of three cemeteries in Dunedin and dates back to the 1840’s.  For the first time it dawned on me that if you’re going to try to get to multiple cemeteries, go to the oldest one first.  This first gravestone was close the where the records that said John Forsythe was buried.  It was completely buried in the shrubs so I pulled it all back, brushed off the debris and saw the name John!  The rest was mud caked and with no tools at hand I just used my fingers…

Bob was complaining about all the dirt flying but I was on a mission!  Unfortunately, I did not find our John….but I did find someone’s John McDonald!

This graveyard holds 17,770 graves.  It was well indexed but the graveyard was a mess with many of the gravestones toppled over and broken.  We thought it was vandalism but an older gentleman, walking his dog said it was from a massive earthquake.  It must have happened quite some time ago because of the layers of debris, moss and dirt that clung to the stone.  There were quite a few plots as well that had no gravestone at all. We found one of the burial sites that a Forsyth was suppose to be buried in but no markings anywhere to indicate he was there.  Bob is pointing to that site.

Bob hit paydirt (maybe not the best term) when he found a plot with not only a gravestone but lots of names on it.  Pictures could not capture the worn out letters so I typed it, sometimes having to trace the carvings to detect letters and numbers.

Below are the gravesites we found in Dunedin, New Zealand in the Northern Cemetery:

In Loving Memory

David Forsyth – Solicitor – Age 55 – Died Dec. 30th, 1909 – Son of David Forsyth – Farmer – Ballachraggan Ross-Shire, Scotland

(Someone had come can carefully cut lettering to cover the deteriorating letters.  The D and the V fell off revealing the white stone underneath)

From top to bottom

James Eldest Son of – James and Ellen Forsyth – Born February 7th 1865 – Died August 20 1882

Jessie Eldest Daughter – June 13th 1872 – Died Nov 10 1886

John 4th Son – Born June 5th 1870 – Died May 15th 1890

George Millar Forsyth – Born Sept 23 1866 – Died May 23 1907 – Second son (George died on the North Island from a railroad accident at age of 41)

James Forsyth – Born July 27 1839 – Died June 20 1920 – Father of the above

Ellen – Beloved wife of – James Forsyth – Born Sept 21 1837 – Died July 10 1924

Elizabeth Millar Forsyth – Second daughter of above – Born (no day, month or year) – Died August 8 1948 – Age 73 (Born either 1875/76)

I Know That My Redeemer Lives

Separate gravestone for George Millar Forsyth (Husband of Elizabeth Millar Forsyth) We think it was erected by the Main Trunk Railroad

Erected – Employed on the North Island – Main Trunk Railroad – To the Memory of – George Millar Forsyth – Inspector of Works – Who was accidently killed – in the execution of his duty – At Waiouro – 23rd May 1907 – Aged 41 Years – Loved Most By Those Who Knew Him Best – FORSYTH

Picture of railroad in Waiouro, North Island

In Loving Memory – Margaret – Beloved Wife of George Forsyth – Died April 16 1909 – Age 60

Jean Forsyth  Duncan – wife of Peter Duncan.  Not sure if she connects

Fairfax Cemetery in Milton, New Zealand.  It had been a long day and it was turning dusk.  This particular city does not have digital graveyard records.  It is all still analog so we had no way of going online to locate the one gravestone we were looking for.  We knew from our Dunedin online records someone was buried in Milton.  We went to the oldest side of the graveyard and split up to see if we could find anything before the sunset.  It was cold and wet but it would be our only chance.  Bob took off to the other end and I meticulously went from stone to stone hoping for a miracle.  When I came across this gravestone I yelled out to Bob that I had found it!!!  Being cold was forgotten…and for those that know me best…that was another miracle!

In Loving Memory of – Charles Jr. Forsyth –  April 21st 1862- Died 1950 – his wife – Flora Inch Forsyth – 1871 – 1948 (Married on April 21st 1896)

On Sept. 17th we attend church in Gore, a 2.5 hour drive so that we could go to Dunedin’s graveyard after.  Milton was on the way and Bob glanced at a street sign named “Forsyth”!  You can find this street next to Cozy, Charming and Countryside…complete with little lambies.

Just taking this all in!

Are we related?

While visiting with the locals at church last Sunday we mentioned Bob’s ancestral name of Forsyth. They told us that Forsyth was a big name in New Zealand and particularly in Dunedin.  We were told to make sure to go see the Rugby Stadium while in Dunedin.  Oh my goodness…this place is legit!  Robert Peter Forsyth Barr made his wealth in investment banking and has 20 offices dotted throughout both islands.  His father was Peter Barr…an accountant. His mother was May Forsyth from Greymouth New Zealand.  May was the daughter of Craig Forsyth who was the Mayor of Greymouth.  He was born in 1847, son of William Forsyth and Margaret Nee Craig from Girvan Glasgow, Scotland (see document below).

Bob just found a Forsyth history on google that connects all these stories.  It’s a lot to read but for those that want to untangle this and understand your family history, here it is:

When trying to find good places to eat in an unfamiliar place we have learned that you can not trust the Concierge!  Mr. Yelp has led us to some hidden, and not so hidden places to eat.  If the place isn’t crawling, it’s a good sign to keep looking.  Such was our experience with Fergburger.  This is a small restaurant right on the street.  It has minimal seating everyday we walked past it it was swarming.  The menu had a variety of adaptations for the American hamburger.  The key here is that lamb and elk are the favored red meat so if you want the real deal…you have to look for it on the menu.  Bob got “cow” meat and it ended up being steak on a bun.  I got the Sweet Bambi.  It was a great way to shake up the traditional hamburger.  People were acting like vultures hovering over tables, waiting for the diners to finish their last bite…  We opted for taking it home.  

Here is the unique menu.  

Riding on their success with hamburgers they opened an ice cream shop and Bakery just next door.  The kitchen connected to all three so that it really became “one stop shopping”!This place was never without a line from noon until end of day.  Perhaps we can bring the concept back to Mesa?!

Next night…”The Cow”.  The name would be a deterrent  but we trusted Yelp.  We have been to The Cow twice now.  It is a small tavern that serves pizzas and a variety of spaghetti dishes.  Anyone that knows me that the space is as important as the food.  This did not disappoint.  You have to want to find this place.  It is in one of those back alleys that only the regulars…and Yelp know about.  In the mid 1800’s they would lead the cows down this small lane to a “barn”  where they milked the cows for hotels and restaurants. It was first named “Cows Lane” and then abbreviate to just…”The Cow”.

The glacier lakes that runs through Queenstown is a magnificent 80 miles long.  Bob and I took a long walk on the other side of the lake from our apartment.  We walked for miles through this wooded path.  Each corner presented something new a beautiful to see, touch and even…taste.  I wasn’t sure the water would be alright to eat but clearly I am still here to to write about it!  It was so clean!

The beaches along the walk were all private and well taken care of.  There were random swings and docks and even this small wishing well.  We found this little secret garden down a stone path to sit next to the water.

Our second to our last Sunday here we made the 2 1/2 hours to the city of Gore for our church services.  This was a small building and branch.  When we arrived there were 4 women in the congregation.  Not one husband.  The 1st counselor to the Stake Presidency and his wife were there to speak.  He was emotional as he told the sisters that they have prayed to know what to do about the fact that these women came alone every Sunday to church without their husbands.  The young man conducting is a missionary and the branch president.  Bob and I both have made the clear observation that the church is dying in many of the cities.  Gore is a large city…we are not talking a small community and you can see the small attendance.  The converted saints from 3 generations ago seem to still have a strong hold in some areas but they are few and far between and clustered in the better areas.

As we came into the chapel the two missionaries came up to greet us.  I knew I was standing next to a very green missionary.  I almost hate to ask for fear I will trigger emotions the Elder doesn’t want anyone to see.  But I also know they need to know that it is going to be ok and it will get better so I simply asked, “How are you doing?”.  The tears started welling up so I diverted my eyes for a moment while he composed himself.  And then of course I asked if I could send a picture to his Mom.  He was happy to comply.  My natural instinct was to put my arm around him for the picture and he quickly reminded me it was against the rules.  Right..right..my bad.  Then, because I did not have my glasses handy, I asked him to type into my notes app his mother’s email.  “Ummm, I’m not sure I can do that either!”  Ok, so this Elder is super obedient!

I quickly shot of a letter to his mother to assure her that her son was doing great!  Maybe not completely true but she doesn’t need to worry…

Here is my letter:

It was within minutes that I got this reply:

His parents met in their senior science class in High School.  He was baptised at 18 and married at 19.  They have raised a good and faithful son and I pray the homesickness turns to excitement as they get those weekly letters!  It is such a bitter-sweet thing to send a child away for two years and so far away.