On this day....


On this day 105 years ago was the death of my Great Grandfather Patrick John MITCHELL. 

Patrick died in the Warwick Hospital from a Malignant Tumour.  His obituary stated he was 77 years old and had been ailing for a some weeks.  He was a highly respected farmer and resided in the Yangan District for well over 40 years.  

Patrick married Rosanna MORRIS on 17 February 1874 at the Roman Catholic Church in Warwick. Patrick was 30 years old and Rosanna was 19.  

On the Electoral Rolls for 1903 and 1905 Patrick was living at Emu Vale and his occupation was a farmer.  

Patrick and Rosanna produced 16 children 8 daughters and 8 sons, 2 sons died in childhood and one son Maurice paid the ultimate sacrifice in WW1 in France.  

Patrick was buried in the Warwick Cemetery on 2 September 1912.  

This is an interesting journey of research I must say and one that is far from complete.   Patrick was born supposedly in Tullaghbegley Donegal Ireland.  I have investigated several lines of enquiry in relation to Patricks birth but nothing is conclusive.  Patricks immigration is still a mystery as well.  According to his obituary notice in 1912 it stated he lived in New Zealand and New South Wales for a short period before coming to Queensland.  Another brick wall challenge for me to bring down. 

Welcome to my first blog.  


I started researching back in the early 1980's.  Why? My motivation was my Grandmother who was an orphan and I wanted to find her brother whom she had not seen in over 60 years.  I often wondered about her life and what we as a family did not know.  At first I started with names and dates and filling in the pedigree chart, then I started to wonder where did we come from?  How did we get here? What were the circumstances that brought my ancestors to this country? This lead me on a journey of exploring our past, documenting family stories, honing my interviewing skills, collecting photographs and much, much more.

I think my interest was initially inspired when I was little when almost every weekend my beautiful Mother would make us walk for almost one hour to visit her parents in the local cemetery.  We would read the headstones and Mum would explain who was who and the connection to our family.  Little did I know as a little girl in the 60's that there were so many graves of my ancestors that were buried in that cemetery of which I did not uncover until over 20 years later.  My brothers and I would skip through the cemetery not really understanding the impact of how my Mother was feeling.

I am addicted 💗