My son and I, while in England and Scotland last fall, decided to take the ferry to Belfast to research in Newtownards, Northern Ireland. In communicating with the tourism center prior to the trip, I mentioned that my great-uncle was the Newtownards town clerk from 1900 to 1931. The tourism rep asked if we would like to meet the current town clerk, which we agreed to. When we arrived on the designated afternoon at 2 p.m., the tourism bureau personnel were frantically looking for us. Unbeknownst to us, the bureau had set up a 2:30 meeting at the town council offices. The mayor (decked out in his ceremonial chains of office), the chief executive, the current town clerk and other dignitaries had assembled for a reception in our honor. A formal tea was held, and local newspapers covered the meeting.

Upon my arrival home, the tourism bureau contacted me with the name and phone number of an Irish relative who had read a newspaper story about the reception. The gentleman turned out to be a second cousin who had heard about possible Irish relatives in the United Stares. He lives on the same land where my great-grandparents lived and where my grandfather grew up. He supplied pictures of the ruins of the family home, as well as the tombstone where my great-great- and great-grandparents were buried. I supplied him pictures, along with the US history of the family. It turned out that a picture of my grandmother that I had sent was identical to one my relative owned but never could identify. My Irish relative is now expanding the Irish genealogy and doing a family tree.