Growing up in Texas, I’ve heard it said:
You look enough, you’ll find a horse thief in every family.
It’s interesting, perhaps amusing, to find out who, when and where. But it’s the last two generations that counts.
I amuse myself with Colt’s revolvers and good mountain rifles, and even the kilts my ancestors may have worn, but it is only that.
You look enough, you’ll find a horse thief in every family.
When my mom asked her mother about a couple of ancestors, my grandma - who was was oddly snooty, given her humble origins - told her, "Don't ask questions about things you might not like the answers to."
We eventually found enough Iowa variations on "horse thieves" on both sides of my family to fill a good sized closet with a wide variety of skeletons... and, sad to say, I have not been exactly saintly myself.
I do find it amusing when people are embarrassed by their ancestors, yet never stop to wonder if their ancestors would be equally embarrassed by them. Is there some spaniard on the other side of the veil saying, "You mean I am partly responsible for Sunny Hostin? That virtue-signalling estúpida on The View? Ay! Eso es vergonzoso!"