An Explosion of Cousins, Part 1

Hello.

My name is Bernie Martin, and I am an Ancestry.com addict.

At least that is how I felt in the beginning.  Once those first few names were established on my tree, and those little green leaves kept popping up, I could not stop clicking! I loved discovering that my great great grandfather Torkel Thorson was born in Sweden. I started finding an abundance of links pointing to Alaska, but I wasn't sure because there was a difference in the spelling of the last name.  The individuals I had connected to up to this point were all Moffit...with one "T".  The Alaska links were all Moffitts...with two "T"s. Most of the information seemed accurate, so I kept adding things to my tree...people, documents, photos.  Before long, I had a message come through that said:

I took my time and waited a couple of weeks before I responded...NOT! I immediately wrote back and we compared notes to discover that Kris and I were double third cousins.  Our great grandfathers (brothers) married our great grandmothers (sisters). I learned that there was a family reunion every year in Alaska, and that the crew had a Facebook page set up with 114 members!  I had a huge grin on my face when Kris introduced me to them:

I sing songs like that and change lyrics to fit circumstances all the time! It's in the genes...

I could not work it out to attend the reunion this year, but it is at the top of my list for next year!

In her next message, Kris passed along some information about a book that she had published containing a collection of letters that her grandmother had kept from family members. She typed out all of the letters, and included photos of the original envelopes, along with intermittent photos of individuals or newspaper clippings. Of course I had to order a copy, and actually found two letters in the book that my grandfather had sent as well as a letter written by Judy!
In one of grandfather's letters, he refers to Judy taking a break from college to work for a year doing laboratory research. The letter was dated October of 1965, and at that time, she would have been three months pregnant...with ME! I have not yet put together a timeline to track her moves, or discover how she even ended up in OH, but I have some clues and hope to do that soon.

The next major event was the decision to take a road trip to Illinois.  My Chicago friend and I decided that we would join up and take off on a grand adventure.  I wanted to visit Decatur, where Judy lived and attended Millikin University. We spent some time at the library, and it just so "happened" that the library had just signed up for a free trial with newspaper archives. We were able to pull up several articles and print them off.  Judy's wedding announcement, her obituary, and different activities at the college. It was a very fruitful visit!
We also went by her house where she lived at the time of her death. We went by the funeral home and were able to view the records of the memorial service.

We stopped in at the church that records indicated she had attended at the time. They did not have any old directories for the years Judy would have been there. We also visited Millikin U, and stopped in at the bookstore so I could buy a commemorative shirt from her alma mater.

The time had come to leave Decatur and head west.  I had contacted Aunt Yvonne and Uncle Jerry and made arrangements to come for a visit. On the way to their place, we were going to pass right through Hannibal MO, town of Mark Twain, on the banks of the Mississippi River. Judy graduated from Hannibal High School, and after her death, her ashes were scattered in the waters. I later learned that both grandparents' ashes were also spread on the currents.

I wanted to somehow honor her life, and the fact that she gave me mine. I decided on roses...8 white roses.  One for every year of her life after my birth.  My friend chose one peach rose, a symbol of gratitude.

We took our bouquet and walked down to the bank of the river and found a secluded spot, away from the bustle of tourism that the town was so well acquainted with. One by one I tossed the blooms into the water, and watched as the current carried them away. I tried to remember where I was and what my life was like with each year represented.  With the final toss, the thought occurred to me to not let go of the stem, but follow it into the river, as though somehow her ashes still lingered right there in that spot, and waters closing in all around me would be a symbolic embrace. I cried for what never was, and grieved the loss of what I would never know. Everything in me wished to travel back in time and tell her to hold on, that her life mattered and pushing through the pain would be worth it.

We lingered a bit longer, and then continued on just a bit further down the road, to Bethel...