Tracing my ancestry, I uncover tidbits that make my eyebrows go  sky-high along with my signature “Hmmmmmm?” expressed in low to high notes.

I'm with ya!

I’m with ya!

Based on my amazing  powers of lateral thinking, logic and intuitive deduction, a recent discovery sets me wondering whether I should dig deeper or let it go.  So far, I have done nothing with my discovery, and will await the support and comments of my readers, which I value highly.

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When seeking information or attempting to ‘locate’ an ancestor, I look at other family members, neighbors, events, or anything remotely related or questionable.  At times, I end up hopping down the bunny trail, so to speak, and then there are times like these –

About three months ago I noticed a record which had my grandfather’s name, (Henry Duato) his birth and death years, and the city in which he was buried.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t access any information or look at the record, as the family tree was ‘private.”  You see, folks on the ancestry site have the option to keep things to themselves or share what they have learned with others.  All my work is public, so anyone can view and take advantage of my research.

I sent a message to the person, and after months, I heard back.  He allowed me access to his family tree, and told me that he knew nothing of my grandfather – only that he had married his grandmother in later years.

After discovering where he’s buried, when he died, I didn’t think there was anything else to look at.  Al contrario!!

This applies perfectly.

This applies perfectly.

My grandfather, who is extremely elusive, had an unusual middle name and passed it down to his son, my birth father.  I discovered the death of my birth father through the ancestry site – and that’s another story.

Mrs. Henry Duato the second, had two children around the time she was with my grandfather.  Was she married to her first husband when the first of the two children, mentioned above, were born? I haven’t found source documentation yet.

One of the two sons wears the unusual middle name of my grandfather.  Delora.  This isn’t a name that you pull out of the air or even off of a list of baby names.  Delora?  Who names their son Delora?  It’s a woman’s name, the English equal to Delores.  The young man must have been teased incessantly.

Merciless...

Merciless…

You may know that in Hispanic culture, the mother’s name is often used as a middle name, and more likely it’s a surname. I’m guessing that Delora was my grandfather’s mother’s name. Many cultures honored and celebrated their parents, grandparents and other loved relatives, by carrying forward their names.  In large families, even given names were used repeatedly!  Perhaps that explains why so many folks ‘went by’ a nickname, either assigned or chosen.

So, the person who allowed me access to his private tree, appears to believe that his grandmother and  her first husband are his grandparents  and Delora is his father. Also, a second son born, was given the name Henry, this information gleaned from a couple of obituary records.  Does this seem a bit too coincidental to you?

I’m seeing a red flag and worms squiggling everywhere!

Which red flag should I ignore?

Which red flag should I ignore?

Need a clincher?  There is a personal notation in regard to Delora.  His Aunt and Uncle raised him for the first four years of his life, until his mother “came back” for him.  Yikes.  Where did she go?  Did she run off with my grandfather?  And why are these two offspring carrying names of my grandfather?  Were they having an affair?  Were they married?  Did someone get caught?  What?  And how do you leave and come back, to take a four-year old baby away from the only parents he’s ever known?  Ouch.

I haven’t asked the man anything yet.  I removed the middle names from my father and grandfather records on my family tree, leaving only the letter “D.”

If Delora was my grandfather’s son, then he would be my uncle. And the son of Delora would be my cousin. There may be other offspring from the couple, though  living people are completely private and difficult to track via internet.

I’ve thought for weeks about this.  I have no wish to hurt anyone.  Does a man have the right to know who his father was, if I am indeed correct?  Am I obligated to start spilling out the can of worms?  Conversely, do I ask or say nothing? Did Mrs. Henry Duato just happen to like the names Henry and Delora?

Agent Mulder

If I am correct, then the man who offered me a look on his private tree is a blood relative.

You may recall that my birth certificate lists a man’s name who is not my birth father, and if my mother hadn’t stopped me from seeking him out in my early thirties, and told me who my true father was, I would not have known.  My DNA test and family tree lineage proves my mother’s moment of truth.

With this knowledge, what would you do? A little something?  A big something?  Nothing? Ask a vague and leading question?

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Is it selfish of me to want to know more, to know who I belong to? Will my wish for the truth be squashed to save the heart and feelings of another human being, related or not?  Finding the truth is a little cumbersome at times.

Truth

Truth

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