Ha! I’m from an long time Mormon family and if there is anything Mormons do, it’s genealogy.
I can remember three of my g-grandparents, all on my mom’s side. My mom’s paternal grandmother was bedridden from a stroke, and I only barely remember her. The g-grandfather, her husband, was alive until I was seven or eight, but he wasn’t really personable so I didn’t have any warm fuzzies. My mom’s maternal grandmother was really nice and we visited her sometimes. She always kept butterscotch candy is a huge glass bowl and we could have a few. Growing up in a family without much candy, it was a special treat.
Her and my mom’s grandfather both grew up in large polygamous families with 20 some-odd kids from three wives in each of those families. I had a zillion second and third cousins, and even had one as a girlfriend in college.
All of my g-g or g-g-g grandparents were Mormon converts who walked the Mormon trail and settled in Utah or Idaho. My mom’s family was mostly Scandinavian, and included one convert who went and chopped a hole in the ice to get baptized. Family lore has that one of my ancestors was the bastard son of a Danish king. The mother was a made in the royal household and claimed the king was the father. In the preDNA era, you might as well claim the best, rather than some stablehand.
I know less about my father’s side. He didn’t like his family so I only heard about some of his.
His father abandoned the family when he was sixish and they went and lived in a shack with dirt floors behind his material grandfather’s house. The grandfather raped or molested both of his sisters so the relationship wasn’t very good.
One set of my g-g-g-grandparents on my father’s side was on the ill-fated Martin Handcart Company. The handcart companies walked from what is now Omaha Nebraska to Salt Lake City, over 1,000 miles, pushing their few belongings in handcarts. The Willie and Martin Handcart companies started off too late in the year, and were caught up in October blizzards in Wyoming. There are various estimates of the deaths, but at least 210 of the 980 pioneers died, including my g-g-grandfather.
My g-g-g-grandmother lost both of her lower legs to severe frostbite, but survived because her husband refused to eat for the last couple of weeks, giving her and their daughter (my g-g-grandmother) his rations. He starved to death but they survived. She went on to Utah and was assigned to be a polygamous wife of a man in central Utah, going on to have a bunch of kids, raising them up while walking on her knees.
I grew up being told the account as a faith promoting story and didn’t hear what a preventable clusterfuck it was, until after I left the church.