Ever since I discovered the details of my 12th great-grandfather, James Shaw, I’ve been intrigued by my family history. I scroll through the centuries, studying the records, and hoping for some juicy tidbits of information. As a result, every few weeks, I crack open Ancestry.com. It’s like opening a dusty old novel, hoping for a new chapter of drama, nobility, or at the very least, a good ole tavern brawl.

So far, the family tree has politely declined to offer up any interesting stories. Just a lot of branching into various corners of Europe and mental notes to do more research.

So far, I have traced my roots primarily to countries in Northern Europe.

What is did discover was something interesting about family names. Lots of Williams. Several Charles. Then a name I had never heard showed up on the family tree – Preserved.

My 8th great-grandfather on the maternal side was born in Massachusetts in 1688 and was given the name Preserved. Yes, like the jam. Or the pickles, tomatoes and applesauce currently gracing my pantry shelves. Although the name probably shouldn’t be that surprising considering his mother’s name was Thankful. However, the name alone was worth a double take, because with a name like Preserved, there had to be a story. Right?! Well . . . . .

According to the records I unearthed (there wasn’t much digging at all since everything was already on Ancestry.com for my reading pleasure), Preserved was so tiny at birth that a wedding ring could slide up his arm to his shoulder. A literal ring baby. Despite his miniature debut, he grew up, married at about 23 years of age, and fathered 12 children—11 girls and one boy. Sadly, his only son passed away so the family name didn’t carry on. But Preserved himself? He owned a tavern and lived to the ripe old age of 96. A year prior to his death, on his 95th birthday, he declared that he wasn’t ready to go yet.

Example of a 1700’s tavern.

Hoping to learn more about the family tavern, I searched for information. However, I was not successful. I did learn that in the 1700’s, taverns weren’t always named and were likely known by the name of the owner. In this case people likely called it Preserved’s Place or Preserved’s Tavern or maybe Preserved’s Pub, but nothing formal that was recorded in the history books.

Taverns were the local meeting place for news, politics and gossip. While I’m sure there were many great stories of drunks and tavern fights, those stories did not get passed down. However, they appeared to have given Preserved the will to continue living a long, happy life. I suppose you could say that he lived up to his name.