Last week, my grandmother, Bettina S. Cottrell, died, not unexpectedly. She was 95 and lived in the house her parents lived in, which her grandmother had built back in the 19th century. In fact, when I look at a map of the Boston area and a map of place names from my family tree, it’s pretty clear that most of “the family” (both sides) did not travel more than a few miles from their birthplaces.
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