You see, all of this came about the other day when I accidentally discovered that one of the students in our care and I share a great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather. I know this is no big deal, but like a fool I hadn’t done the genealogically prudent thing and kept it to myself. (Note to self: Remember the “ice cream stares” that come when discussing genealogy with many of the general public.) Rather, on a particularly ordinary day, while transporting our very remarkable students, I’d shared this (and other similar discoveries) with my co-worker(s). I’d made this discovery (that our student was in fact a cousin of mine) in the usual way, serendipitously, with a DNA match of my own to a family by the name of Mood, and from there followed through using that great genealogical method of going one step beyond…[1]
I know you get it. After all, you guys “do” this stuff too. It’s just not always easy finding folks who believe us. I realize that all of “this” isn’t perfect or perfected. I know we don’t always get a clean-cut paper trail, or the good fortune of finding a DNA match that lines up with a vital record out of Walla Walla, and then links us to a FindAGrave memorial that leads us to a probate record, and is then mentioned in a published genealogy, or, better, in a well-researched periodical like Mayflower Descendant.
No, most of the time it comes from spending way too much time on familysearch.org with their kinda funky relationship finder, a place which honestly can resemble a bad remake of Invasion of the Body Snatchers[3] and become a host cocoon for all those “copy-and-paste” relationships that link all of us to both Eleanor of Aquitaine and “Joe down the street.” However, as you guys know, once in a while it isn't a matter of the old “copy and paste” being simply wrong or just wishful thinking. Sometimes we get lucky; sometimes “we” actually do get it right.
What can I say? My genealogical inclinations took hold. I had to know if I didn’t share a deeper connection to Heidi, beyond the 1960s and our episodic interests in “the ghosts” of Franklin W. Dixon and Carolyn Keene.[10] My problem was, I knew it was going to be nearly impossible to find such a connection. I knew that with regard to Heidi, I wouldn’t turn up any shared great-grandfathers, as I had with my student and the Mood-Tucker clan. I knew, too, that it would be unlikely that I would ever find anything traceable in “the mix.” Yes, Heidi would never appear in anyone’s great published work of genealogy, and might very likely go completely unmentioned in any old unsourced family tree. You see, my friend Heidi was adopted.
Well, that doesn’t work for me. If the Mood-Tucker clan down the street, or the “step-mother of my stepmother” can “do it,” then Heidi can do it, too. But how? You probably already know that I’m not going to be able to write to you here about some amazing DNA discovery linking Heidi to me (at least not yet…). Heck, about the only thing actually linking us together are the forgotten memories of our childhood and a street directory for Contra Costa County, California for 1965 – a directory in which neither one of us would have been old enough to be listed. So much for the paper trail and the random chromosome theory. However, I wondered if there might be another way, so I took that “one step beyond” to look at Heidi’s adopted parents.
Okay, so you’ve already figured out where I’m going with this, but someday you too may want to see if that student, step-mother, or childhood friend of yours isn’t connected to you by some means other than random chance. (Though I get that my co-worker “Cathy” may well argue this point.) I have to tell you that my methodology here hasn’t been perfect when it comes to finding my connection to Heidi, and that yes, it’s all a bit sentimental and rusty, and (yes, co-worker “Cathy”) maybe even a bit whimsical. True enough, too, there are plenty of verifications still pending in “ye olde admixture,” as they say. However, imagine my joy, indeed my utter glee, when I discovered that a family tie appears to exist between my own mother and Heidi’s (adopted) one.[11]
Finally, I had that connection I was looking for. Finally, I could make sense of my own Manifest Destiny, if you will. Finally, I could find a way (albeit an unorthodox one) to add Heidi into my own family tree. Yes, I know the relationship I’ve found here has only the remotest shadings of a “ninth cousin one removed” – but say what you will, now my friend has a place in a family tree, and I hope that wherever she may be, she’s happy to have a place to call her own.
I hope that you won’t take any of what I’ve written as an advocacy for any sort of “copy-and-paste” method of genealogy. I’m surely enough of an acolyte here to know better than that. Yet in this day and age when we are all so very divided with so many differing opinions and shifting reasons, I hope you will find joy in celebrating those many genealogical connections we do have in common, be they connections you readily know of, or the hidden ones, or the ones you just might recall on the school bus, found among the tethered branches.
[1] “One Step Beyond” is a play on words and refers to the ABC television series that aired 1959-61.
[2] George Clevenger (1714-1809) married Deliverance Horner.
[3] Invasion of the Body Snatchers, a 1956 American science horror film produced by Walter Wanger.
[4] Lady Tremaine, the step-mother in Cinderella.
[5] Queen Grimhilde, the step-mother in Sleeping Beauty.
[6] “Collinsport” refers to a fictional town in Maine, home of the vampire Barnabas Collins from the ABC television series Dark Shadows that aired 1966-71.
[7] My grandmother was Alta (Sage) (Lee) Dixon (1909-2004).
[8] Yvonne Kay (Lee) (Record) Guerry (1935-2018).
[9] “Gee, it’s a small world after all…” refers to “It’s a Small World” the song created by Richard Sherman for the 1964 New York World’s Fair and subsequently used at Disney attractions.
[10] Franklin W. Dixon and Carolyn Keene were the names for the group of ghost writers who penned the Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys mystery books.
[11] In a shared descent from Joseph Clarke (1642-1726) and Bethia Hubbard (1646-1707).