Saturday, January 25, 2014

Blache DuBois Has Nothin' On Me

Depending on the kindness of strangers isn't what it used to be. Dependency is not our thing. We pride ourselves on being self-sufficient and empowered. We carry smart phones and mini-laptops so we don't have to ask directions or feel like we are uninformed. We can Google or Wiki- whatever we need. We are kidding ourselves. We are now dependant on nameless folks (AKA strangers) creating apps for our phones or tablets. We are tied to our electronics and they are tied to the people working behind the curtain.


I had an experience today that took me back. My car battery died yesterday but I had places to be and a dinner engagement.  Luckily, I had a second car and was able to let my disabled vehicle sit in the garage until I could deal with it later.  This morning I hopped on the cell phone and called for roadside assistance to get my car started. The guy was there in twenty minutes and got my car started. I was supposed to drive it for a while to charge the battery so I set off on a tour of the area and drove for about twenty minutes before I noticed that I was almost out of gas. I figured my battery was charged enough and headed for a gas station. I stopped at an "express" gas station to fill up. It was one of those places with an attendant in a little glass house. Most people use plastic and never go talk to the attendant.  Well, of course, my car would not start when I was ready to leave.  Of course, I don't have jumper cables. I explained my situation to the attendant and he went into a small storage closet to see if there were any cables. Of course, he didn't have any.


I live in the desert southwest and our weather can change pretty fast. Today it was warm and windy. By the time I was getting my gas we were in a stiff sustained wind of 35 mph and gusting to 45.  Tumbleweeds were flying by and it was turning into a dust storm. 
Out of the blue, the gas attendant says "Here, take my car and go to WalMart and buy jumper cables". He hands me his car keys and points me toward his car. I was stunned. I couldn't believe that a total stranger would just hand me his car keys and trust me to go to WalMart and come back in his car....in a dust storm. I hesitated but took his keys and drove off to the local WalMart.  I could have driven to Denver or Chicago. The store wasn't too far away and I managed to get back in under a half hour. 


The attendant was busy when I got back and I handed his keys in through his window. He told me he was about to get off work as soon as his replacement arrived and he'd help me get the car started. As I was getting the jumper cables out of the package an elderly Indian lady driving a pick-up with grand kids in the cab drove up and offered to give me a jump from her truck.  I gladly took her up on her offer and got the car started once again. I was busy thanking people right and left and they seemed like this was an everyday occurrence...all in a day's work.   I was back at the local WalMart getting a new battery in about ten minutes.


The kindness of strangers is still alive and well in spite of our lack of attention and our false sense of empowerment and self-sufficiency. I'm still amazed that someone would hand over the car keys to a stranger and trust them to come back. I guess now it's my turn to help someone out.

The Perils of Genealogy -- Part Two

George W. Bush is my cousin...to my horror and shame. We are distantly related but I was always under the impression that he was, perhaps, some kind of space alien or something that climbed out of a tide pool somewhere. I'm not a Republican and I let my views and values shape my expectations as I groped my way through the underbrush of my family tree. That's the way most people are. George and I have a common ancestor and we are something like fifth cousins through his mother's line. We won't be going to a family reunion. There ought to be a Genealogists' Anonymous organization. "Hi, I'm Ken and I have George W. Bush as a cousin".



It is one of the pitfalls of genealogy and often it is the reason why folks start researching the family tree. We have expectations of grandeur.  Maybe we haven't found our niche in history but surely someone in the family accomplished something of note. It depends on how high you set the bar. Some people won't be satisfied until they get back to Charlemagne. But what happens if they encounter John Wilkes Booth or Ivan the Terrible? My grandmother's admonition to keep quiet about that "Pirate" Sir Francis Drake is one approach.



I am a member of the Sons of the American Revolution...past chapter president, in fact. The SAR and the DAR are sticklers for detail. One has to document every family link back to the Revolutionary patriot and it has to be a direct line. But, the definition of "patriot" is pretty loose. A man serving on a local jury or supplying arms or supplies or signing the articles of association would be sufficient for SAR membership. Not every patriot has to have war service. It is a common problem that folks try to join these organizations based on "grandma said..." or "my cousin is a member so I can be one too".  Some folks want to join to further their ambitions. We had a guy who wanted to be mayor and showed up at a meeting in a colonial era costume and declared that he was entitled to membership. We had a retired judge who showed up and announced that he was descended from a Revolutionary War soldier and refused to offer documentation. Both guys were disappointed.



I joined the SAR because I was tired of a co-worker yammering on about his patriotic roots. He had ancestors in the Revolution and an ancestor in the Confederate Army so he joined the SAR and Sons of Confederate Veterans. The Confederate flag in his office was a step too far and he had to get that out of the building. It turns out that I have several Revolutionary War soldiers as ancestors but only one that I was able to document with easy proof. The others were a little murky in their allegiance although they did serve in the Continental Army or militia at one point. One ancestor spent time in the Albany jail because he was suspected of being a Tory. Lots of folks were in there with him because this was, essentially, a civil war in New York state and everyone was suspected of being one thing or another. It's not always easy to document service or family ties...especially if the name is a common one from that era. One Revolutionary War soldier was sufficient for me.



My wife had ancestors who fought with the Confederacy. I hesitate to say they were Confederates because evidence shows that they were neutral but extremely pissed off when the Yankees showed up and burned the town.  Her G-G-G-Grandfather served in the Missouri State Legislature....elected in 1860...and the family was prominent in the local political and cultural life of their small Ozark community. They were not slave-owners and just wanted to be left alone. The State Legislature had to consider what to do as the various states started to withdraw from the Union. It was a difficult issue because Missouri was a slave state but was very much divided in its loyalties. The German settlers were against slavery while the long-time landowners were often supportive of slavery. One of the slave industries in sections of Missouri was breeding slaves to be "sold down the river"...this was a form of stock farming.  This is a particularly ugly aspect of slavery in Missouri and not talked about much.  The Legislature and the Governor were forced to raise the State Guard (militia) to fight the Union Army as it moved to occupy the state.  The Union prevailed and dismissed the Legislature and the Governor fled south. The resulting Civil War in Missouri was extremely bloody and resonates even today.



I was always smug in my outlook toward the Civil War and slavery. We were Union people from New York state. My G-G-Grandfather marched off to fight the Rebs and defeat the forces of slavery. We were not slave owners...right?...right?  It's all very complicated once you get into the closet with your ancestors.  My soldier ancestor marched to defend the rail lines in Baltimore. He finally got to Virginia and saw some action during the Wilderness Campaign but hurt himself...got a hernia...and was sent to a hospital to recover. That was pretty much it. His unit, the 109th NY, saw a lot of serious action and was involved in the notorious Crater assault at Petersburg but my ancestor was recuperating. I am not complaining...it is just ironic. Had he not hurt himself in the service of his country, I might not be here.



The slavery thing is even more complicated. A funny thing happened while I was busy gloating about not being from a family of slave-owners. One of my New York ancestors was a party in a law suit against a man who owed him money. This was early in New York history, before slavery was abolished there.  The court case dragged on a while and finally the plaintiffs won. They were to be repaid for the debt but the man had nothing to pay them with...except slaves. My ancestor was given a women as repayment of the debt. There was some kind of stipulation that the original owner had the right to buy her back if he could raise enough money but we don't know what the outcome was. So much for being smug. I have ancestors who were among the founders of New Paltz, NY, way back in the late 1600s. Guess what...New Paltz was one of the areas where Sojourner Truth lived as a slave....and finally gained her freedom.



Lets go back to Charlemagne. Americans seem to be infatuated with the idea that somehow they are related to royalty. That's ironic because many or most of the early immigrants were coming to America because they had had enough of royalty. Of course, European royalty couldn't get enough of each other. Royalty bred royalty who then bred with other royalty and their cousins who bred with cousins...and so on.  Heaven forbid that they marry a commoner because they had this notion of eliteness. They were somehow chosen to be elite by God. These folks also had power and wealth. They had bunches of kids and could feed them all. They could afford good food. They could get medical attention, such as it was. They lived in well-built homes. During the plague, they could stay isolated or they could leave the city to escape disease. So, they were survivors and survivors had babies who were survivors. The commoners and the riff-raff marched off to war, suffered from malnutrition or were consumed by the plague. It is reasonable and likely that many Americans and Europeans are descended from royalty. If you go back far enough to tie into a royal line and trace along those royal lines you will probably end up at Charlemagne. President Obama is descended from Edward I, King of England, who was, of course, a Plantagenet and French and descended from Charlemagne. So is Brad Pitt and Brooke Shields and George W. Bush...all descended from William the Conqueror who was a descendant of Charlemagne.  Barack Obama and Queen Elizabeth II are distant cousins.  Being related to Charlemagne really has less of a distinction than people think. The ability to trace one's ancestry back to 800 AD is impressive but it is fairly easy if you tie into a royal line.



My line staggers back through multiple generations and eventually links in to the parents of the 1st Duke of Marlborough. He was also an ancestor of Princess Diana Spencer and Winston Churchill and William, the future King, and now, baby George, also a future King. I was happy to welcome the little tyke into the family, although he makes it harder for me to rise to my rightful place as King.



Another family line takes a tour of Holland through the New York Dutch families and goes back to Charlemagne and Alfred the Great, somehow. One of the Dutch ancestors sailed with Henry Hudson up the Hudson River as far as present day Albany. His cousins, Jan and Cornelius DeWitt, were butchered by a mob and hung on a lamp post at The Hague. They were then immortalized, sort of, in The Black Tulip, by Alexander Dumas. If you climb back down that family line you will run into Theodore Roosevelt and Eleanor Roosevelt...but not Franklin.


A lot of genealogy buffs are having their DNA recorded and analyzed. The tea leaves of DNA reveal all sorts of things. I keep saying I'm going to have mine checked but I never do. I might be surprised if I do. Many people are. Lots of Americans think they have American Indian ancestry but often the test comes back and they are disappointed. Sometimes there are interesting results that show Semitic or Asian ancestry when there is none even remotely expected. Sub-Saharan African DNA might show up where it isn't expected. African American genealogy buffs can sometimes find what area of Africa they are connected to as well as whether there is a trace of non-African ancestry -- European or American Indian or whatever.


People moved around a lot more than we ever expected. The map (right) shows the travels of just two men back in the 1300s. We know about them because they were literate and left a written record. A DNA study among Indians in South America found two pockets of modern indigenous populations that have Asian (ancient Japanese) DNA traces that date from several thousand years ago. Clearly,  ancient people in Ecuador encountered ancient people from Japan sometime around 3,000 BC. There are plenty of historic references of Chinese, Egyptian or Greek voyagers. The Phoenicians seemed to be almost everywhere in the ancient Mediterranean world. Alexander the Great ruled an empire that stretched to India. Arab merchants visited Scandinavia. Marco Polo and many others followed the Silk Road through central Asia.

Moorish Spain
Even before Charlemagne the Islamic Moorish Caliphs occupied most of Spain and Portugal and made incursions well into France. The Moorish controlled terretory, Al-Andalus, lasted for over 700 years in some areas. Marco Polo was in China more than 20 years. I doubt that all of these travelers and conquerers kept their pants on for the duration of their journey.


My dad's family came from Pomerania (Pommern), which is now the Baltic Sea coast of Poland. Before WW-II it was Germany. It was once ruled by Sweden. The Teutonic Knights were in control of the place for a while as were the Poles and Prussians. That is just over the past 500 years...what about way back another 500 or 1,000 years. Vikings and "Barbarians" and waves of other different groups passed through central Europe. After...and even before...the Roman destruction of Jerusalem there were Jewish populations sprinkled all over the known world. Some were isolated, as in Ethiopia, while others were vibrant and totally engaged with their neighbors, as in Spain and parts of Europe and north Africa. I think I know, roughly, what my DNA test will report but I might be surprised. Whatever it says, I'll be happy. I might even discover some long lost relatives somewhere.

Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Resolutions and Gratitude

I will usually make a New Year's resolution but I'm bad at keeping them. I don't think I've ever lost a pound based on my good intentions of January 1st.  Oh, but I continue to try and that's important.

A few years ago I made a resolution to say "Yes" instead of "No" in social situations or when asked to do something or be somewhere. My wife had passed away a couple years earlier and I was not dealing very well with things in general. I left my job and became a full-time retiree in a house by myself. I wasn't particularly reclusive but I was slowly closing down my social circle. My resolution to say "Yes" was a very important change in my life and led me to seek out more opportunities to say "yes". I made new friends and re-entered a familiar zone where I felt better and belonged to friends as much as they belonged to me. My weekly bocce club outings and my weekly hiking club started me on my way to a brighter existence but I did more than that and enjoyed it.

Last year I made a resolution to express gratitude more often and more openly. I started off and accomplished it for a while but I got caught up in my move to New Mexico and setting up my house and getting settled. I lost track of my efforts to express gratitude.  I don't think I ignored it but I didn't go out of my way or even be particularly conscious of expressing gratitude.

This year I'm going to try it again. There is a blog that I red that is written my a Doctor born in India and educated in Cuba who works with American Indians. I enjoy his insights and agree with his point of view in general.  His recent blog post was about gratitude and he advocated keeping a notebook that helped one to see and experience gratitude and enjoy it.   Here is the URL to the blog entry.

http://medicoanthropologist.blogspot.com/2013/12/gratitude-lise-how-it-may-help-you.html

Among other things...
"Writing down three acts of kindness that made the writer felt grateful for, was as effective at increasing well being, equal to spending one hour with a therapist! Wow! The power of our connection to the mind!!"

"We teach our children to be grateful, not for the sake of being polite, but also for them to understand gratefulness. Studies have shown that children who understand gratefulness tend to be better at academic performance! Seeing the recent results from an International study of performance of children from various countries, most of the top spots were taken by Asians, the USA was way down the ladder, and perhaps there is a connection? Perhaps not understanding gratefulness be one of the reasons?"

In our culture "Gratitude" is a noun, not a verb. I will see if I can make it more of a verb. I don't know if I will keep a notebook or a list but I'm going to try to express gratitude more freely.
 

Sunday, December 15, 2013

The Perils of Genealogy -- Part One

My sainted grandma was Irish...very Irish. She was born in Kerry Patch in St. Louis so technically she was born in the US but it might as well have been Dingle or Tralee where her mom was born. Her dad was so Irish that he managed to be scarce most of the time. Not all of the time, though, because there were about ten kids born in a few short years...but only five lived past the age of 15. Her mom died of TB at age 34 and dad went to New York City and a new relationship without the kids.

There were three boys and two girls. Grandma and her younger brother bounced around in orphanages and convents but the older boys would stage a "jail break" and liberate them so things were always in a state of disarray.

St. Louis was then the fourth largest city in the US and the site of the 1904 Worlds Fair. In "Meet Me In St. Louis" you don't hear about Kerry Patch or the Irish gangs that ran much of the city in the early 1900s. Grandma's older brothers were busy gang members but not all that successful at their work. They spent time in the city workhouse and managed to get caught when other gang members got way. Finally, they decided to go straight. One married and then died shortly afterward of the family illness...TB. The other became a constable to an Irish city magistrate....and then died not long afterward of, you guessed it, TB. Both of the older boys were dead by 1911. The girls fared better and both married and went on to happy family life. The youngest boy  married and escaped from St. Louis and lived a long and productive life.

Grandma managed on her own for a while. She became a domestic and worked in the homes of wealthy St. Louis families and later in some fancy hotels. She was also a cook and in later years she worked in a number of high-end restaurants. Around 1907, she married a shoe worker from upstate New York and they had four kids....three girls and one boy.  They moved out to the western edge of the city and bought a house and settled down. Grandpa's family was not Irish or Catholic and were somewhat upset with his choice. Not only had he run off and left his widowed mom and his siblings but he married this Irish Catholic maid.


Grandpa's family went way back in New York and New England. English ancestors arrived in Massachusetts in the mid 1600s. His NY Dutch connections went back even farther. Then there were the French Walloon Huguenots. All were solid protestants with nothing good to say about Catholics.  When you read some of the letters or cards that were sent from New York, the words are sweetly poisoned...nothing was ever said directly or outright but you can sense the attitude. "Come home where you belong" was the message at first then it became "it's hard times here, send money".



It's ironic that folks who were descended from Walloon Huguenots, a terribly persecuted minority in France, would be so blatant in their dislike of the persecuted Irish minority...once again, religion rears it's ugly head..

One of grandpa's ancestral families was the Drake family. The story was that he was descended from Sir Francis Drake or maybe Sir Francis's brother.  Grandma seemed to be interested in this connection but with a twist. In her most Irish voice she would recount the family connection to Sir Francis and then say that we should never, ever, ever tell anyone that we were related to him because he was a pirate and went around pillaging and stealing. I, of course, went out and told everyone who would listen. This was too cool to keep a secret..we had a pirate in the family.  ARRGH!

Things are never as they appear. Sometime in the 1800s a story circulated that Sir Francis Drake's estate was unclaimed and rightful heirs should come forward to claim their share. Every family with Drake connections went into high gear and rewrote their family history or, in some cases, hired someone to research their connection to the old "pirate". An industry grew up for a while as researchers cranked out all sorts of dubious family trees. It was a swindle and it is still circulating today. Sir Francis had no children. Heirs would be descended from his brother,  There are also more than one Captain Francis Drake so there is room for honest confusion.



It turns out that our Drakes were uppity cousins of the venerable pirate who were not impressed with his exploits or his claim to nobility. That family has a story in its own right but it doesn't involve piracy.

I'll cover more of the story in another post.