In many Mennonite households, family history isn't just passed down in stories — it's printed and bound in detailed genealogy books, documenting generations of relatives and tracing back to the community’s earliest settlers.
These thick volumes, often hard-covered and beautifully bound, became common between the 1970s and 1990s. For author and satirist Andrew Unger of Steinbach, the books reflect a deep cultural value Mennonites place on storytelling and family connection.
“Maybe people had been in Canada for 100 years or so at that time and maybe they’re like, oh, it’s been long enough that our first members of our family that had been here are now passed on, so we better record some of this information while we can,” said Unger.
How it started
Each genealogy book typically begins with a couple from the 1700s or 1800s and follows their descendants. While not everyone in a family line is always included, Unger said the books often show a “sizable chunk” of related people.
“They usually start with a particular couple, and then the book covers all the ancestors that derived from that exact family,” he said.
These books have been a staple in Steinbach partly because of how the community began, says Unger, noting that Steinbach was founded in 1874 by 18 Mennonite families from southern Russia. Those families were often related to each other, meaning today’s residents are frequently connected in ways they may not realize.
“I’m related directly to three of those original families,” he said.
‘Check the book’
In Steinbach, it wasn’t unusual for dating couples to be told to “check the book” — a lighthearted but practical effort to avoid dating a close cousin.
“When my wife and I were dating, we definitely visited her grandmother and she visited mine,” said Unger. “They thought maybe her name is in there somewhere, but they couldn’t find it, so that was good enough for us.”
He said this kind of informal family research was usually done by visiting an older relative, often a grandmother, who had a copy of the family’s genealogy book.
“You go see Grandma, who usually is the one that has it. And then she looks in there and as long as the person you’re dating isn’t in the book, then you’re fine,” he said.
Although the practice was once widespread, Unger said it’s becoming less common.
“Fifty years ago, maybe Mennonites mostly married other Mennonites and now that’s not the case at all anymore,” he said. “So the need to check the book has diminished.”
A cultural hallmark
Unger, known for founding the satirical news website The Unger Review and writing the novel Once Removed, has explored the significance of these books in his own work. The book’s main character is hired to write genealogy books for families. In one scene, a married couple discovers they are fourth cousins. Unger said that kind of story, while fictional, reflects real-life experiences.
“Whenever you’re writing fiction like that, you’re taking details from what you’ve observed,” he said.
Beyond marriage, these books are a source of conversation and curiosity. Unger described how people often use them to connect the dots at large family gatherings or while playing what’s jokingly called “the Mennonite game” — tracing relationships between people in the community.
“It’s sort of a form of entertainment too,” he said.
Even today, stories of surprise family connections continue to surface. One Steinbach resident recently discovered she was related by marriage to a co-worker after someone brought in a family book to a community barbecue.
A legacy worth keeping
Though many younger people may not have explored their family’s genealogy book, Unger believes the significance of these records remains strong.
“At some point in your life, you want to know your story — where you came from, why you’re where you are, and what were the stories that came before you,” he said. “Even if you don’t appreciate the book right now, just keep it. If you inherit a book like that, just keep it and someday you might page through it and find it more interesting.”
Some families are now turning to digital tools to track ancestry, but Unger said that loses part of the charm.
“There are electronic services now where you can check this kind of thing, but that kind of defeats the fun of finding the person in the book,” he said.
In an era of changing family structures, intermarriage and migration, Unger still sees these Mennonite genealogy books as a powerful symbol of the community’s values.
“Someone put a lot of work into tracing your family history — that’s something to honour.”
-With files from Carly Koop.