My roots are pretty shallow, Polish and Maltese, and I met my great grandparents that came over here during the war. They, however, never left Detroit and my grandparents had fifteen kids on one side, which then just mixed with all of the many immigrants who came to this region. They were young rebells who really wen't against the grain and crossed the racial lines.

This is something that I'm not sure to be proud of or embarrassed about. My relatives and ancestors got in a lot of trouble for crossing those lines. I have some sort of natural aversion towards not sticking with my own kind. It is my genealogical gift I suppose.