12 FEBRUARY 2024 WorldWide Drilling Resource® The Un-Comfort Zone II by Robert Evans Wilson, Jr. Longing to Belong Led Me to Genealogy I always wanted to belong to a big family. I took up genealogy as a hobby, which led me to connect with cousins all over the country. Losing my parents when I was still a young adult only exacerbated my longing. Then something weird happened. In May of 2022, I learned I am unrelated to my dad. Years of research became irrelevant instantly, as one-half of my family tree evaporated. My discovery evoked many feelings: first bewilderment and depression then an obsession with learning the truth (which I shared in a previous article: My Parents Were Married, but I was a Bastard by Law, WWDR August 2023). There was also excitement about connecting with new family members. I realized my interest in ancestry was a desire to belong. Recently, I reflected on the meaning of a portentous event from two decades ago that would foreshadow this desire. It began after my mother died and I found and sorted a hatbox filled with ancestral photographs of generations long past. I contacted Mother's first cousin, Maggi, to ask if she could help me build a family tree. My first question to her was how she was related to my mother. She said their fathers were brothers. I was stunned because I didn’t know my grandfather had a brother. Mother never mentioned having an uncle; I just assumed Granddaddy was an only child like she was. Maggi said, "He had two brothers and two sisters; my father was the oldest. Oh, and a few years ago, a man contacted the family and claimed he was a brother who'd been put up for adoption." I couldn't believe my grandfather had siblings, and this was the first I was hearing about it. Maggi explained, "Well, my grandfather was the black sheep of the family. He was a barber in a college town and a bootlegger selling illegal whiskey during Prohibition. My father told me that grandfather was either not paying enough kickback money to the mob or enough bribe money to the local crooked politicians, and a hit was put out to kill him. He fled the country to save his life, but he abandoned his pregnant wife and five children. My grandmother sent her children to live with her parents on the farm while she went back to school and became a nurse. When the baby was born, she put it up for adoption. After completing her training, she found a job in a bigger city, moved there with her children, then raised them on her own." I asked her about the adopted son and she said Aunt Nell was the only sibling still alive, and may still have some written correspondence with him. I said I would like his contact information. Our need to be a part of a group is a powerful motivator dating back to our cave-dwelling days. Our acceptance in the clan - our inclusion by the group - made the very difference between life and death. Our survival depended on this close-knit community. When it comes to our needs for bonding and support, nothing has changed in all the millennia since. Family is always the first group to which we belong. We don’t get to choose our family, but it has an impact on which groups we will be able to join in the future. Family affects our social status and long-term prospects for acceptance and even prosperity. Learning you are adopted (or in my case donor conceived) can disrupt your sense of familial belonging. How well you resolve those feelings can be affected by the support you receive from your genetic or adoptive family. I wrote to Uncle Leon, who was thrilled to hear from me. He'd tried to find out who his birth parents were, but was blocked from finding them because his mother opted for a closed adoption with sealed records. A few years later, when World War II started, he went to enlist, but was rejected because he lost an eye after a childhood skating accident. He told the recruiter with the Army he wanted to serve his country, and the man suggested he join the U.S. Merchant Marine whose ships and sailors served the war effort as a supply line. Uncle Leon eagerly went to join the Merchant Marine, and was told he needed a passport. He was not eligible for a passport with his adoption papers during wartime and needed his original birth certificate. Unfortunately, it was forbidden to him. However, so many men were required for the war effort he received an exception from the federal governWilson Cont’d on page 14.
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