Charles Roland Davis: A WWI Story

 


At just 21 years of age, Charles Roland Davis registered for the World War I draft on 5 June 1918. His registration card, meticulously filled out, offers a glimpse into his life in Granville County, North Carolina, during the Great War.

Roland lived on Rural Free Delivery (RFD) Route #3 in Youngsville; a small town nestled in the rolling hills of central North Carolina. He was born on 15 February 1897 in Granville County, North Carolina. His father's birthplace was also Granville County, solidifying the Davis family's deep roots in the region. 

Roland was employed by his father, Sid Davis, in Granville County, working on a the family farm. He listed his father as his nearest relative, residing at the same address: RFD #3, Youngsville. He identified as white, a native of the United States, and signed the card himself, affirming the accuracy of the information provided and attesting to the fact that he could read and write.

The registrar's report, completed by W. H. Walter, noted Roland's physical characteristics with brown eyes and dark brown hair. He had no apparent physical disqualifications for serving his country in the war.

Granville County and World War I

In 1918, Granville County was a predominantly rural agricultural community with its economy deeply intertwined with tobacco farming. The county seat was Oxford, not far from Youngsville, which served as the administrative and commercial hub of the county. The draft registration, conducted by the Local Board for the County of Granville, with its office in Oxford, reflected the national mobilization effort in full swing.

In the book A History of the Great World War (author unknown, published by Oxford Orphanage in 1920), you can read more about Granville County's contribution to the war effort. 

On 7 June 1918, the war in Europe raged. The German Spring Offensive, launched in March, had stalled but the Allied forces were bracing for further attacks. American troops were now arriving in increasing numbers and were beginning to make a tangible impact. This bolstered the morale of the war-weary Allied soldiers. The Second Battle of the Marne was just around the corner the following month in July.

The United States had declared war on Germany a little over a year prior, in April 1917, and the Selective Service Act of 1917 had mandated the registration of all men between the ages of 21 and 30 for potential military service. Roland's registration was part of this massive nationwide effort to raise an army capable of fighting on the Western Front.

Roland was ultimately called to serve aside millions of his fellow countrymen on 16 September 1918.  He mustered in as a Private with Company D, 5th Engineering Training Regiment in the US Army.  He undertook his basic training at Camp A. A. Humpries (now Fort Belvoir) in Fairfax County, Virginia. 

His draft registration card serves as a poignant reminder of his life, his community, and the pivotal moment in history when the entire world was engulfed in war. It speaks of a young man rooted in his land, connected to his family, and ready to answer the call of his nation. It is a testament to the ordinary lives caught up in extraordinary times, a small piece of a much larger story of sacrifice, duty, and resilience.

Appropriately, Roland's grave bears witness of his service to his country. 

Note:  This post was created with the use of Storied utilizing Artificial Intelligence (AI).  The facts of this post are accurate and true.

Foxman Family of Eastern North Carolina

 

This beautiful lady is my great grandmother, Hattie Foxman Adler.  I've had a great time recently exploring the Adler and Foxman families, but I have to say the Foxman line is a bit of a mystery. 

The surname of Foxman could have been Anglicized from Fucks, Fox, or Foxe. Or even something else. That's part of the mystery and what makes it difficult to trace the line.

Hattie's parents,  Louis Foxman and Celia Hacker, immigrated from Russia sometime between 1883-1885. They provide a different year of immigration to the census taker each year in 1900, 1910 and 1930.

In 1900, the family was living in Baltimore, Maryland. Family lore has it that Louis walked from Baltimore to Kinston, NC and it took nearly a year.  A year!  Can you imagine?!?

In the 1900 census, the family was living in Queen Anne County, Maryland. Louis reported that he was born May 1864 in Russia, that he immigrated in 1883, and that he was a tailor.  He was married to wife Celia, born February 1879, who also immigrated from Russia in 1885. She reported they had 5 children, 3 of whom are living in 1900.  Those children were Hattie, Benjamin, and Sarah.  All of the children were born in Maryland. 

By the 1910 census, the family was living in Kinston, Lenoir County, NC at 112 Haulage Street. They reported that they immigrated from Russia, but in 1884 (not in 1883 as in 1900), and had 9 children, 6 of whom are living.  They reported all of their living children were born in NC (not in Maryland as in 1900).

In a news article in the Daily Free Press (Kinston, NC), on 1 February 1922, Louis said he lived in northern Russia as a child. This would have been in the late 1860s.) He said homes there had huge brick stoves in the center of the house. Children would sleep on top of the stove to stay warm, once it had cooled down.  He said Russia "was a good old country in those days".

Louis Foxman is listed as part of the influx of Jewish immigrated from eastern Europe around the turn of the century in an organized Jewish community in Kinston, NC. The majority of this group were merchants and in 1903 they established Congregation Tifereth Israel. (Source:  Encyclopedia of Southern Jewish Communities)

There are quite a few news articles pertaining to the family in the Kinston Free Press between 1916 and 1934.

14 April 1916

4 Jan 1917

11 April 1922

Louis passed from lung cancer 27 Dec 1934. He is buried in Maplewood Cemetery in Kinston, NC.  Celia passed 16 Jan 1943 and is buried next to Louis. 

Stay tuned for more information on Hattie. She was a VERY accomplished lady!

Wake County Farmer Shoots Wife: A Murder/Suicide in New Light

My family tree is full of nuts. Just like most family trees. But I've been struck by how many of my family members have either been killed, killed others, or committed suicide in the early part of the 1900s.  From gambling, drinking, and jealousy - these stories really underscore the power of alcohol and the tragedy behind guns. Nothing has really changed in that regard, right?

The sad story of a murder and a suicide ensues.

Charles "Charlie" Eaton DAVIS was the fourth child of my great great grandparents, John Ruffin DAVIS and wife Lucinda DAVIS. (Yes, a DAVIS married a DAVIS...happens all the time.) 

Charlie was born 27 June 1870, the first child born to John Ruffin and Lucinda since the civil war ended, although he was their third child. I strongly suspect Charlie was the child of a civil war veteran but I'm having trouble pinning that one down.

When he was 26 years old, Charlie married Sophronia Lillian O'NEAL on 27 Dec 1896. Known as "Lillian" or "Lilli", she was the daughter of Albert Dawson "Doss" O'NEAL and wife Sarah Washington MANGUM. She was a well respected young woman and often referred to as "cultured". I can only imagine what passed for "culture" in rough and tumble New Light in the early 1900s.

Lillian's brother, William Niles O'NEAL, was a prominent moonshiner in the area and had even been referred at times as "King of the Harricanes", which is what the geographic area around New Light, NC was called. The Harricanes even have their own Facebook page: Land of Wild Weather, Creeks, Springs, Rocks, Secrets, Moonshine, Self-Reliance

Charlie and Lillian settled on a 100 acre farm which Charlie purchased J. K. RAY for $1000.00 on 8 Dec 1903.  It bordered land currently owned by Lillian's father, Doss O'NEAL, to the south. It was land formerly owned by Doss but sold to J.K. RAY who later sold it to Charlie.

Charlie and Lillian had 6 children on this farm:

1. Jesse Eaton DAVIS, born 02 Oct 1897 and died 17 Jul 1987. He shows as the informant on his mother's death certificate at just 23 years old. Jesse Eaton married Minnie E DAVIS about 3 years later on 19 Aug 1923.

2. Charles Allen DAVIS, born 09 May 1899 and died 06 Jan 1956. He was just 21 years old when his mother was shot. He married Nellie Ethel POWELL about a year later. 

3. Mariette DAVIS was born 12 May 1901 and died 21 Jun 1983. She would have been 19 when her father shot her mother. She married Gordan SHERRON 23 Dec 1923.

4. Maona Suphronia (assume this was Meona Sophronia) DAVIS was born 02 Jul 1903 and died 02 Sep 1975. She was just 17 when her mother died at her father's hand. She married Wiley Addison POWELL a year later on 27 Dec 1921. 

5. Five years after Maona, Leon DAVIS was born 29 Jan 1907 and died on 23 Mar 1908 at just over a year old. This was the child reported as deceased on the 1910 census when Charlie and Lillian said they had 4 living out of 5 children born.

6. Ten years after her brother Leon died, Pattie Lou DAVIS was born 01 Jun 1916 and would have been just 4 years old when her mother died. Pattie married Raymond S KEITH 14 Oct 1937 and died 18 Sep 2000.

Charlie's brother, Sidney Irwin DAVIS, was my great grandfather. Sid has a few colorful stories of his own, but none as harrowing as his brother's sad tale.

I've heard that Charlie spent some time in Dorthea Dix hospital in Raleigh NC for "mental issues", but I've found no proof. It's possible he was hospitalized for alcoholism, although alcoholism was reportedly rampant in the family at the time and I've heard of no other family members being hospitalized for it.  

In the pre-dawn hours of 1 Dec 1920, Charlie shot his wife Lillian 3 or 4 times through the head with a large caliber gun while she slept. He was drunk. Very drunk. All of the children were in the house at the time of the shooting.

An article in Raleigh's News and Observer on 30 Nov 1920 reads:

"Davis, who owns the most pretentious home in New Light township and has always been a highly respected citizen of his community, was carried to the Wake County jail yesterday morning in a drinken stupor, from which he did not begin to arouse until 6 o'clock yesterday evening and from which he had not fully recovered at a late hour last night. Mrs. Davis, a woman of some culture, was before her marriage a Miss O'Neal and was the sister of W. Niles O'Neal another prominent New Light farmer. She had spent all of her life in the community in which she died. There has been no suggestion of justification for her husband's act."

Oddly enough, Charlie was not the only Wake County farmer to shoot his wife that day. Sam P SHADRACK who lived near Charlie and Lillian, also shot his wife. Both men were incarcerated in the Wake County jail at the same time without bond. Both shootings were blamed on alcohol.

Lillian Davis O'Neal Death Certificate

Once Charlie roused from his binge, he was visited by his brother James Medicus "Med" DAVIS. Charlie didn't understand why he was in jail and was completely distraught when Med explained the circumstances. I'm told Med carried a great deal of guilt at the result of his revelation to Charlie. I bet.

The reason for Med's guilt? His brother committed suicide after learning he had shot his wife. Charlie hung himself with a bed sheet in the Wake County jail, two days after the death of his wife. His children lost both parents within a 48 hour period; their mother to domestic violence and their father to suicide.

Charles Eaton Davis Death Certificate

Charlie died without a will despite being a prosperous land owner. Probate was filed in Wake County NC on 3 Dec 1920 by his oldest son, Jesse.  His estate was valued at about $1500.00. Jesse E, Charles Allen, Maynetta, Patti, Mayamin (Maona?), and Una DAVIS were listed as entitled as heirs. Jesse, as estate administrator was granted a bond of $3000.

Both Charlie and Lillian, along with their infant son Leon, are buried in the Davis Family Cemetery at 7000 Hinton Road, Wake Forest, NC. The cemetery is located in a wooded area at the end of Hinton Road and is not well-maintained. There are only the three graves. 

Truly, a sad resting place for victims of a sad and tragic story.

No answers in sight

My daddy is the man who raised me. I know who he is. His name is Carl.

My biological father is the man who created me. I know who he is. His name is Harry.

Carl and Harry knew each other. Socialized together. Vacationed together. Spent holidays with their families together. 

Two very different men with two very different roles. I terribly wish I could speak with both of them, but to have very different conversations. 

If I had just 10 minutes with each man...

I'd simply hold my daddy's sweet hand, put my head on his strong shoulder, close my eyes, and just breath. Words would not be necessary. 

I'd ask my father one critical question:  Did you know about me? 

A few years ago, I learned via DNA that my mother had an affair with a man she worked for in the late 1950s. I knew this man. And his wife. And their son. They were close friends of my parents. When they retired to a sunny tropical place, we visited numerous times. I remember these folks very fondly. 

I've also discovered that my daddy was likely sterile. Possibly from war wounds, or possibly from his exposure to toxic chemicals in the drinking water at Camp Lejeune during his military service. That's a whole situation.  

So was daddy's likely inability to make a baby what spurred my mother's relationship with my father? Deliberately, so they could have a family? Or was it just a passionate moment that took an unexpected turn? Was it an ongoing relationship? Did his wife know? Did my daddy know? Shoot, I'll never know. But I speculate on this quite a lot.

I never would have pegged this man to be my father. Once DNA convinced me Carl was not my bio father, I started searching for him. I had a mental list of potential candidates. This man was not on my list. So when I saw his name, it hit me like a ton of bricks. 

Memories of time spent with both couples only add to my long list of questions.  Someone recently asked me "does it really matter"?  Well, yes. And no. 

Since I learned of this situation, I've done quite a lot of research on the biological family. Some living bio family members weren't thrilled about this. Offended even. Others didn't seem to care. A few have been very kind and supportive. The research allows me to feel like I knew these folks who were my family. I've even found some things about them that made me feel pride. And sadness. Even found a few scandals. No different from most families.

I will wrangle with this the rest of my life. Not in a bad way. I don't wring my hands, or have any negative emotions toward anyone over it. But I do have questions. Lots of questions. It changed everything. It changed nothing.

The real issue is what to do with the unknown. I'll admit that I even have a little geeky fun digging for answers. 

I'm still processing, even though it has now been years since I made the discovery. Good thing I'm a genealogist. I know which rocks to look under.

Who's your daddy?

Reading through a pile of Facebook posts past year or so, I see that many who received a DNA surprise express a lot of anger toward their mothers for "lying to me all these years". I've never experienced any anger toward my mom for not telling me the truth. Of course, she's deceased so I can't ask questions on the "why" but she loved me unconditionally and so did the man who raised me. I was lucky to have such giving and loving parents, no matter whose DNA created me.

I have to wonder if the anger gets in the way of truly processing the facts and accepting the reality. After all, our parents - if they did indeed intentionally lie to us - likely did it out of fear and love. Fear they would lose someone's love (a spouse or a child) and the love they felt toward the 'lil DNA surprise.

It just proves to me that our parents are in fact *human*. They made mistakes. They had sex. Sometimes with people they shouldn't have. They didn't tell the entire truth. They were infallible. Just like every other human on the earth. Just like us.

Now, that doesn't mean I just throw my hands up and completely accept the situation. Oh, no. I'm curious. I have questions that will never have answers and sometimes that makes me angry. I have moments of shame, even. Just shades of it, after all I'm not the one who made the mistake although I've made plenty of my own, just of a different flavor.

I'm sometimes sad that I don't really carry the blood of the wonderful man who raised me, cause who wouldn't be proud to be his child? He served his country for many years, he always put his family first. He loved his God. He was the finest man I've ever known. He loved to hold my hand. He was proud of me. I do sometimes wish he was "mine", but the fact that he didn't create me during a few moments of intimacy really doesn't mean a thing. Not a thing.

I know who my daddy is and it's not the man my mom had a momentary fling with. It's the fellow who thought I hung the moon. The feeling was mutual.

Jonathan F. Davis: An Enigma

Jonathan F. Davis: Who was he, really?

My great great grandfather is such a mystery to me. Of course, having a name like "John Davis" is a problem on many levels. Davis is the 7th most common surname in the world and there has been an unbelievable number of Davis men in Granville and Franklin counties since the late 1600s.  Just my luck. 

I've been working on Jonathan for many years. Here's what I am sure of:

• He married Cornelia DILLARD on 24 January 1861 in Granville County, NC.
• He shows up on the 1850 and 1870 census in southern Granville County, but not in 1860.
• He is buried in the DAVIS family cemetery on Woodland Church Road in Granville County. 
• He fathered at least 12 children between 1861 and 1899.
• He was a Freemason.
• He left a brief will where he names 7 of his children and owned about 200 acres of land. 
• He was a slave owner.

Here's what I'd like to know:

• He was 32 when he married Cornelia. Was he married previously?
• His first child with Cornelia was born in 1861. The next one in 1865. Which might suggest that he served in the US Civil War, but I can find no solid evidence. He also could have served in the Mexican War, per his age.
• I'm told "someone" in a "nearby county" has a tintype of Jonathan. What I wouldn't give to get a good look at it! 
• According to the will, the family was fairly well to do at one time. But the next generation was dirt poor. What happened? Reconstruction?

If you have any news of Jonathan, I'd love to hear it!  In the meantime, I'll keep diggin. I'm certain there is a lot more to his story!

Davis Family: A Virtual Reunion

In these unusual times, we have to get creative. The extensive Davis clan of central North Carolina traditionally meet the first Saturday each October. We meet at the church which has cared for our family spiritually for generations, Good Hope Baptist Church. 

Good Hope has recently changed their name to Covenant Hope Church. There's a story there but don't get me started on that one. Regardless, it will always be Good Hope to me and to the many generations of ancestors buried in its cemetery. 

Sadly, given the state of the world we could not risk the health of those who attend so the next best option was to host it virtually. Same day, same time. Minus the BBQ. And hugs. And long table of pot luck yummies. And strolls through the family cemetery complete with stories and longing.

Even missing that homemade BBQ, there we were....a handful of faithful Davis family members trying desperately to connect with one another from behind our devices and maintain our tradition. And you know what? It worked!

For those of us who managed to sign on to Zoom...we connected. We visited. We caught up with one another. We shared news, we appreciated one another's talents as Ellen sang, Marie played the piano and Matt played some mean Johnny Cash on his guitar. It was two whole hours of connecting, in many ways more so than we are physically together. That's a bit of a headscratcher...but it was good. 

I left the virtual reunion feeling like I had truly visited with my family. I don't always have that feeling at our reunions when we are all crowded into Good Hope's fellowship hall straining for conversations to be heard over the din. 

An important take away for me is to never feel the current state of the world takes away all the goodness in life. A door was (temporarily) closed, but God opened a window and the breeze blew in gifts I never imagined, such as experiencing the talents in my family I would not have enjoyed otherwise. 

It's all in the perception. Right?

Forgiveness and Secret Burdens

I don’t often surprise myself, but my willingness to be open and forthcoming about my DNA discovery has surprised me. Oh I’ve hesitated a time or two, when I feel my story is painting my mother in a poor light.

After all, it makes her look like a promiscuous woman who had a torrid affair and shamed my father, not to mention the child borne of that affair.

But it’s not like that at all. Not at all. My mother was a real hoot. She was adventurous, generous, kind, and forgiving. She was not without her issues, as we all are, but it can absolutely be said that she was a GOOD woman. A lovely person on many levels.

Mom was a very complex person. She was drop dead gorgeous and I suspect she often used her beauty to manipulate men.  I don’t believe she ever understood this about herself.  Later in life, she developed health issues that are often the result of bad habits like a lifetime of heavy smoking and drinking.  She was always somewhere between being proud of the life she built and feeling disappointed about the life she didn’t live. I get that; I’ve experienced the same emotion.

Daddy wasn’t nearly as complicated as mom. He was a proud and simple man. All he ever wanted was a better life than the one he was born into on the wrong side of the tracks in Raleigh, NC. And he was willing to work hard for that better life. He was shining proof that hard work pays off. He is my hero in so many ways. I wish I was more like him, though maybe I’m more like him than I appreciate.  I sure hope so. I want to be the best of both parents – I want to live my life in a way that represents the very best they had to give.

I’ll never know the real story behind my mom’s relationship with my biological father. I do

know the two families were close and remained close long after my birth. My current theory is that daddy was sterile due to his war injuries. Mom and dad had been married 8 years when I was born and had no children after me. Perhaps Harry was a means to an end…the only way for them to have a child? Perhaps the relationship had nothing to do with torrid affairs and clandestine meetings in cheap motels. Maybe everyone knew the score.

I consider it both a blessing and a curse that there is no one left for me to ask. I’ll never really know the truth. There is some sense of loss in that, but there is also an understanding that being an adult is complicated. Life is complicated.

Indeed.

Adler Family of Tarboro, NC

Yes, it's been nearly a year since my last post!  In that time, I've kept busy with my genealogy projects such as my on-going but slow effort to learn more about analyzing my DNA results, attending conferences and workshops, visiting Tarboro - home of many of my Adler relatives, and dabbling in Family Tree Maker.

Oh, and the Wake County Genealogical Society. I'm President now and loving every single second of working with this wonderful organization.

But about those Adlers...I've made contact with more than a few cousins via DNA matches. That's been fun. And as mentioned above, I've visited Tarboro several times. What a precious little town!  It is the 9th oldest NC town and a huge chunk of downtown is on the National Register of Historic Places.

I got to see the Adler Department Store, still standing but vacant.  There was a fire, but you can still see the staircase to the right and a check out stand to your left. Sadly, I was unable to get inside.

I learned a great deal about the Jewish families in the area and their contributions to the local community. Really fascinating stuff if you're a geek like me. My Adler family was very active in that community; I've found many references to them in books written about the Jewish communities in eastern North Carolina. It makes me proud. 

I even learned a few "little known" facts like that my brother Joel had a children's clothing department store named for him, "Joel's Department Store" in Tarboro in about 1950.

I've learned many, many other things but I'll save those for another day. My son is home for the holiday from Alaska and he has offered to spend his precious time home going with me back over to Tarboro today to get my grandfather's military DD214 from the Register of Deed's office. 

Oh and one more thing!  There are pictures of my uncle hanging in the Edgecombe County Veteran's Military Museum in Tarboro! I'm not sure who the Staff Sgt Max Adler is - any clues from Adler family members would be greatly appreciated! Such a wonderful surprise to see their smiling faces!

My Brother Joel

To say I was floored to discover that I had a brother would be an understatement. I've always been an only child, or so I thought, longing for a sibling. Little did I know.

Walter Joel ADLER (Joel) was born on 08 Aug 1943 in Edgecombe County North Carolina. He was the only child of Harry Adler and wife Doris Hurst Adler.

Joel attended school in Tarboro, NC and graduated from Tarboro High School in June, 1962. 

Joel at Tarboro High School in 1958

Joel at Tarboro High School in 1960

That fall, he joined the US Air Force on 12 September 1962. By that time, his parents had moved to Jacksonville, NC where they operated several businesses. Joel had stayed behind in Tarboro to complete high school. He intended to be a pilot, and was attached to the 3550^th Pilot Training Wing based at Moody Air Force Base in Valdosta, Georgia. Sadly, his military career ended when he applied for a hardship discharge after serving 2 years and 2 months due to his parents failing health. While in the USAF, he served as an apprentice air policeman which would provide him with experience he would call on later in civilian life.  

Joel left military life in 1965 and moved to Miami, Florida to assist his parents in managing the apartment building where they lived. He married Mary Anne Brunson in Destin, Florida in October of 1968:

Playground Daily News, Fort Walton Beach, Florida, 17 Oct 1968

Joel and Mary Anne had two beautiful children: Mikel and Joanne. 

Joel was a very accomplished man and very mindful of his community. He was a member of the Destin Volunteer Fire Department, a board member of the Fire District Association, former board member of Destin Water Users, captain of Destin Search and Recovery Team, a Red Cross instructor in first aid and CPR, and a deputy sheriff with the Okaloosa County Sheriff’s Department. He was also an accomplished underwater photographer, an avid hunter and fisherman.

Sadly, Joel passed away on 04 June 1984 in Destin Florida. He is buried in the Destin Memorial Cemetery. I'm disappointed I did not get to know him as I'm told he was a real jokester at times! But even without knowing him I love and admire him as my brother.  

DNA and a Crisis of Faith

I was raised in a very conservative, very religious home.  As Christians, our lives literally revolved around the church. As my mother used to say to my father "we're at church any time the doors are open". And that was true. 

Both of my parents served as Deacons and Elders. My mother, at a time when it was unusual for a woman to serve in those positions in a church, was very proud when she was appointed an Elder. You'd have thought she'd been elected President.

Once I went away to college, I latched onto my freedom like I was drowning.  You can probably imagine the scene. Utter chaos.

Fast forward 35 years -  I've floated in and out of church, church-hopped, even explored other faiths. I've always been intrigued with faith, in general. It is fascinating to me. Most of my ancestors are Baptists down to their very core. My early ancestors were Quakers. What a beautiful way to live!  I've attended Catholic services and marveled at the tradition and beauty of the faith.  I understand the Muslim faith to be just that - a gentle, peace-loving faith.

I've read a great number of books about Judaism and am stunned by the persecution and resilience. I'm particularly drawn to art and museum exhibits around Judaism. Always have been. Now I know why.

Because my biological father was Jewish.

We're finally getting to the point of this conversation. I was raised Gentile but Jewish blood flows through me. I felt it but didn't know what to call it. It's kind of like looking for your glasses only to discover they are on top of your head. I have no plans to convert. But I am so drawn to the Jewish culture, I may adopt it in slivers. Is it wrong to use the culture as a buffet of traditions? Probably.

I'm wondering what others did when they discovered the greatly unknown flitted around their DNA - whether it's a faith, a culture, or just another geographic dot on the map. Did they embrace it or ignore it?

DNA testing. The gift that keeps on giving. 

Introducing Mr. Harry Adler

Adlers in North Carolina

I never thought I'd be writing this post. But here I am introducing my (biological) father. All these years, I thought I knew exactly who I am. But a DNA test proved me wrong. 

So, without further ado, I'd like to introduce you to Mr. Harry Adler. Harry was born 08 October 1911 in Kinston, NC to parents Phillip Adler and wife Hattie Foxman. He had 4 siblings: William, Ada, Rebecca, and Irvin. 

Harry was a 3rd generation American of eastern European descent. His grand parents immigrated from Russia/Poland and Germany in the late 1890s through Quebec and New York, settling in eastern North Carolina around 1910. The family was active in social circles and were one of only a handful of Jewish families in Lenoir and Edgecombe counties. 

Harry shows up on the 1920 and 1930 census in Lenoir County (Kinston), NC. When he was 22, he married Doris Temperance Hurst,daughter of Charles Morton Hurst Sr. and Mary Elizabeth "Lizzie" Beverly, on 25 Jul 1934 in Greensville County, Virginia. By 1935, Harry and his new wife were living in her hometown in Martin County, NC. 

Raleigh's News and Observer, 12 August 1934

By the mid-1950s, Harry and Doris were living in Raleigh, but a few years later they moved to Jacksonville, NC to see to various business interests there. They owned a department store (as did other family members in nearby counties). They also owned a dry cleaners, finance company, and other assorted businesses in Jacksonville, NC. Collectively, the Adler family owned retail stores all over North Carolina including Raleigh, Tarboro, Wilson, Rocky Mount, Jacksonville, and Kinston. They dealt in children's clothes, ladies clothes, slippers, shoes, jewelry, and other household goods.

Enter my mother, Gladys Allen Stancil. Mom was a very smart cookie and reinvented herself several times over her lifetime, but in the late 1950s, she was an experienced bookkeeper. She took a position working for the Adlers in Jacksonville in 1958. By spring 1959, she was pregnant with her first and only child...me. 

In the mid-1960s, Harry and Doris moved to south Florida where they owned/managed an apartment building.  They later moved to the Florida panhandle to be nearer their son, Joel, who had married and settled in the area. 

Harry passed away 12 February 1977 and is buried in Martin County, NC next to his wife Doris. 

Pensacola News-Journal, 13 Feb 1977

Robersonville Cemetery, Martin County, NC

Just to be perfectly clear...

In the days since DNA led me to discover my true biological father, I've experienced many different emotions. Mostly, I've just felt so sad that Carl Stancil wasn't my biological father.  In the larger scheme of life, it really doesn't matter who my bio father may be. What matters is who raised me to be the woman I am today. And that man was Carl Donald Stancil - the finest man I've ever known.

I've written a great deal about him on this blog. He was so proud to be an American, a Christian, and my father. He was kind, compassionate, loving, patient, and so very sweet. I wish I could hold his hand one more time. Just for a minute.

So while I'm off exploring my biological family, I'll never forget who raised me. I'm the luckiest girl on earth.



Carl Donald Stancil
 1930-1997

Perseverance + serendipity = Success

I found my biological father. 

I feel both grateful and guilty – at the same time. Grateful to my friends who encouraged me to dig and helped me analyze data but guilty that I found him so quickly when others have searched for years.

Were it not for DNA testing, I would have never known my father was not my biological father. I would have been blissfully ignorant the rest of my life, chasing dead Stancil family members until the cows came home never knowing I was pouring my soul into finding people who not my blood relatives. Would that have been a terrible thing? Not really. However...

Were it not for DNA testing, I would have never found my biological father. I would have never known my own truth.

DNA testing can be a blessing and a curse. As they say, don't ask the question if you can't take the answer.

One day. On a whim. Because it was on sale. Because all my friends were doing it. Because I was curious about my ethnicity. Because I wanted to expand my research skills. Because I wanted to know more about my family. Because it seemed like innocent fun…I took a DNA test.

It changed everything.

It changed nothing.

How I found my biological father in 10 easy steps:

1. First, tested with AncestryDNA. Results = 40% Ashkenazi Jewish ancestry. Whaaatttt? Not what I expected. Nah, not possible.  
2. Next, tested with FamilyTreeDNA. Results = 43% Ashkenazi Jewish ancestry. Umm...there are no Jews in my ancestry. What’s going on here?  
3. Then, tested with 23andMe. Results = 47.7% Ashkenazi Jewish ancestry. Uh Oh. Oh gosh. No. Could it be? Oh goodness.
4.  The unthinkable hit me: one or both of my parents may not be a biological parent. Seriously?!? I stared at my results in disbelief. Went to that night bed dazed and confused. The obsession set in. 
5. Attended DNA workshops, joined a DNA Special Interest Group, read DNA how-to books at night until I couldn’t hold my eyes open, bugged my knowledgeable friends endlessly. Saints they are, my friends. 
6. Sent many many many emails to my matches; most total strangers. Got 1 or 2 responses.
7. Discovered one 1^st cousin match and one 2^nd cousin match online. Focused on those.  Like a laser, I did.  
8. Couldn’t make contact with either until I found the 2^nd cousin’s address via a Google search (i.e. Internet Stalking).  Mailed him an old-fashioned letter. The kind you put in an envelope and drop in a metal box.    
9. A week later, he called and gave me names to research.  The entire family were German and Russian Jews.  My 2^nd cousin handed me the key to the truth. God bless him. 
10. Created a family tree based on those names. Lo and behold…staring at the 1940 census for Lenoir County, NC…I knew I’d found my man. A family friend from my childhood. I knew him well. Apparently, so did my mother.

All the pieces fell into place. Certain things now make perfect sense. A fellow named Harry, for whom my mother worked in the late 1950s, a family friend (and his wife) we visited often even after they retired to Florida in the mid-1960s. 

I still have lots of questions and loads to process. But even if I never get those answers, I’ve answered the most important question of all. I feel more peaceful today that I have in the weeks since learning of my “situation”. I can breathe without strategizing the next step in my search.

I have always been very proud of the fact that my roots run deep in North Carolina. Thankfully, Harry continues that tradition; he was born and grew up one county over from mine. Whew. I coulda been half New Yorker or something. Close call!

Is closure in sight? Not really. Probably not ever. The upside is 1) I have an answer, 2) I have a new family to research, and 3) I understand my mother just a little bit better now. All good things. 

More questions than answers

Clyde the Bulldog

How it is that I got one answer but it led me to about 1000 new questions? Is that crazy?


I received news of my mom's blood type. The news is bad. She doesn't match.

Mom = O+
Dad = O-
Potential Baby = O

Uh oh. 

Carla = A+

It's not possible for two O parents to produce an A child. Unless they're mutants, which they aren't. This means one or both of my parents are not my biological parents. Now, everyone keeps reminding me what an awesome childhood I had, so what does it matter, blah, blah, blah.

Seriously?

Yes, I had a great childhood and as I keep saying, I will love my parents until the end of time.

But.

Can you imagine what it might be like to discover in mid-life that the one constant you would have forever is now a mystery? 

I've lived a great life, but like all lives it's not been without it's bumps. All the usual stuff, such as crazy teenagers, divorce, cancer. Now this. Now I discover my parents are UNKNOWN. 

I don't come from the type of people who have unknown parents. But...guess what? I do!

One of the following 4 things will become my new constant:

1) NPE. Non-parental event. (Is that a cold term for the matter or what?)
2) Adoption (birth certificate faked, family member got in the "family way", etc)
3) Switched at birth (these words still make my head spin)
4) Sperm donor. Really? In 1959?

So I'm seriously chasing the DNA matches to see where they lead me. One in particular is intriguing...a FIRST cousin. Problem is he has a fairly common name but heck he is a FIRST cousin AND is of Jewish descent. So I'm bugging total strangers to help me with a mystery that isn't even theirs.

Just call me the "BULLDOG". Cause that's what I'm gonna be until I get some answers!

Anticipation

Oh gosh, the A-N-T-I-C-I-P-A-T-I-O-N is just killin' me.

I've been anxiously (and impatiently) waiting for my mom's medical records to show up in the mail. I ordered them from 3 different places.

Today, WakeMed called to ask a few questions and said they'd be mailing records including her blood type TODAY. They wouldn't give me the blood type over the phone, dang it.

I might know as soon as TOMORROW if Mom is potentially my biological Mom.

Dad's blood type = O+

My blood type = A+

Mom's blood type = must be A+ or she can't be my mom

If she is A+, then I can at least leave her on my list of potential biological mothers. If she isn't, she falls off the list and I'm in a bigger tizzy than I am now, but at least I'll have a definitive fact. Right now, definitive facts are in mighty short supply.

In the meantime, enjoy Carly's blast from the past. I was 12 years old in 1971 and in middle school at Jacksonville Junior High School in...where else...Jacksonville, NC. I wasn't allowed to listen to Rock and Roll but would sneak my little transistor radio into bed with me and listen to it under the sheets. WKIX in Raleigh. Now THERE is a blast from the past!

What is Inheritance?

My beautiful and wonderful friend Cyndi pointed me toward this really cute two minute animation on how we get our DNA. 

Perfect for beginners and for those of us who get things scrambled in their head and need to come back down to earth (ie real science). 

Check out my little buddies below by clicking here. 

Read a Book: The Stranger in my Genes

My DNA quandary has led me to read books and watch TV shows that never would have caught my attention otherwise. 

TV. Really. I can take it or leave it. I usually leave it. I almost always regret whatever time I've spent watching TV. It rots the brain, you know. I have enough issues in that department.

On the up side, I've just finished an excellent book entitled The Stranger in my Genes. It was a short but powerful read  by Bill Griffeth, the financial wizard who leads us through the finance news each day at 3pm on CNBC just before the closing bell. 

Who knew he was an amateur genealogist?

AND who knew he experienced a great DNA surprise similar to mine? Bill discovered his dad wasn't his dad. He explains the emotions and process a thousand times better than I ever could. 

Bill drives home the point that if you must have your DNA analyzed, you should be prepared for the results, whatever they may be. DNA is science. It's real. It does not lie or tell stories. It doesn't care if it turns your world upside down.

Have a read. Especially before mailing off your DNA test.