How
can I tell this story? I do not believe it, but I know it is true. I have learned
over the years that many times when people relate important stories of their family’s
history and origins, important details get lost and there is no corroborating evidence
to back up their claims. Over the years memories fade, and details are lost
from generation to generation. But in this case, we can rely on the DNA
evidence, and you can’t argue with the science involved.
Last Christmas my daughter Tina suggested we share the cost of one of
those DNA kits, as a Christmas gift to my wife Patti.
Patti
has a deep interest in her genealogy, and has spent a good deal of time
researching her family. The DNA testing works like this: you provide a sample of your DNA, then you
send it off to a lab, and they are able to discern your ethnic origins, and
break it down to percentages of race and geographic locations.
It is a straightforward proposition, and then in a few weeks you receive
a pretty generic breakdown of your ethnicity. There is also a little checkbox
on the form that instructs them to report any DNA matches that were revealed.
Patti checked the box in passing, mostly just to complete the form.
Within
a few days, Patti received a bombshell in her e-mail. A man named Dennis Ditty in
Minnesota claimed to be a direct blood relative of Patti, and asked for any
details about his father James Ditty who died in 1960.
Patti
was suspicious and didn’t answer the e-mail immediately, wary of some new
internet scam. Instead, she asked her father if he knew of a James Ditty who like
her father, was born in Tennessee but moved to Michigan early on, and was now living
in Minnesota, and was about 70 years old.
Patti’s
Dad immediately said: “No”;-but then stopped mid-sentence, remembering something
from his past. He recalled that more than 60 years ago after his mother died he
and his brothers were placed in the county orphanage. The youngest son James
was adopted by foster parents, who he learned later moved to Michigan.
In
time, the family took the rest of the children in, but by then his brother James
had been adopted and moved out of state.
Patti’s
Dad was unable to obtain any more information on James, as all the documents
were sealed by the court, and later destroyed. He spent the rest of his life
wondering what kind of man his little brother became.
Patti went back to her extensive notes on her family’s genealogy, and constructed
a time line of events that matched perfectly. After 60 years they had
discovered the lost brother!
The joy of discovery was tempered with the realization that James had
passed so many years ago and never knew his roots.
By all accounts James was good man, honest and hardworking who loved his
kids, could draw and paint well, and had a gift for music, just like the rest
of his family.
James son Dennis, his wife Debby and family were reunited with a host of
relatives they never knew they had yesterday in Vandalia, Ohio, and discovered
they all had much in common.
You
can see in their faces that time and troubles had not wiped away the
unmistakable family resemblances.
I
am beginning to understand now that whether we like it or not, we all need a sense
of belonging, of roots, and in a word; family.
Jeff Wilson
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