Through the years, I have often wondered whether any of my relatives, like so many Icelanders, moved to North America in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. But it was not until earlier this year that I found out, by chance, that my great-great-grandmother’s paternal half-sister moved to Blaine, Washington in 1903. And just my luck, the Snorri West Program – which aims to strengthen relations between Icelanders and people of Icelandic descent in North America – was set to visit the West Coast this year.

After being accepted to the program, I got access to the Icelandic Roots genealogy database, where I was able to look up information about my great-aunt, Jónína. I got really excited when I saw that, according to the database, her youngest son out of seven children, Peter Hallson, was still alive at the age of 83. I certainly hoped that the information was up to date and that I could somehow get in contact with him. And with the help of Snorri West’s many volunteers, it was possible. We located my first cousin three times removed. He happened to be on an eight-day biking trip up in the mountains when we first got in touch.

When I arrived in Blaine, I already felt closer to my great-aunt. I could see how she would have liked living there. In some ways, the place reminded me of Iceland: the ocean breeze, the long summer hours, the lack of mosquitos, and the way I had to dress in layers. It was a nice surprise to find out that my host in Blaine, Jana Peterson-Dunn, had known my great-aunt personally; in fact, Jónína had been like a grandmother to her. She had, among other things, taught her how to make vínarterta, a layer cake that has become a hallmark of Icelandic culture in North America.

In Blaine, we visited the Icelandic nursing home, Stafholt, where my great-aunt used to work, and then resided toward the end of her life. And at the cemetery, I found her grave, where she rests next to her husband and son. A member of the local Icelandic club had brought Icelandic flags along, and I found it very touching to get a chance to mark their graves with the flags.

But for me, the highlight of the whole trip was definitely meeting up with Peter Hallson, who came to Blaine while I was staying there. We had much to catch up on and plenty of stories to exchange. He brought along all sorts of papers and articles related to our shared family history. I found it especially fascinating to see a photocopy of my great-aunt’s passport and the stamps she got in it the one time she visited Iceland as an adult. I know now that she met her sister, my great-great-grandmother, during that trip; unfortunately, the connection did not last. When Peter visited Iceland with his sisters in the 80s, they were unable to get in touch with any relatives. That makes it all the more precious to have had the opportunity to connect and renew the family bond between us.

How I Found a Cousin Across the Ocean