My grandfather died and a door creaked opened, finally we were allowed to look into a past that had been sealed for generations. What were they doing in there? An ancient world of Dutch, or older still, Spanish Sephradic Jews, a world of clockmakers and Brazilian fortunes; of cunning deceit, gold dust and bullion, robbery and fencing, of bankers untrusted and exportation. No wonder it was hands off, doors slammed closed and padlocked, chained against any threat of discovering ancient family secrets, hoped lost. No, my darling grandfather passed away and we ripped the doors asunder and marched right in. Here it is, as much as I can gather, a long march of a search, and plenty more to come!
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