Fleshing out my King Line Part 1

I was going through my matches one day when I realize that I had two new close matches. One match appears to be a 1st or 2nd cousin and the other looks to be a 2nd or 3rd cousin. The first thing that I became aware of was that neither of these matches were a match to my mother, who I tested a couple of months ago. I could feel my excitement growing already because I knew these were most likely matches to my father. As I have stated previously, my father's paternal line is a blank so the possibility of a close match to that line nearly had me giddy, So the closest match did not have a family tree attached but the other match did. When I looked closer at the match, I realized that we are related through my paternal grandmother. So I circled back to the closer match and realize that they were not related to each other! I began to realize that I was looking at a match to my biological grandfather.

I wrote a blog about my grandfather, Isaac King here. One of my most frustrating brick walls is this man. I know very little about him and unfortunately, my father doesn't know much either. All we have is his name. When I initially started on my journey, I did not even know that he existed and that John Keys was my grandfather. Even now there are times when I am working on Keys matches and it'll hit me that I need to refocus on my DNA branches. It has been 15 years since I first heard Isaac King's name and for the first time, after a few breaks that led to nowhere, I feel so close to getting some information.


I reached out to this match and (HOORAY) I get a response. We exchange two more messages, which does not reveal any pertinent information, and then....NOTHING. The match stops responding! It has been a week since he logged into Ancestry and I am ready to pull out my hair. I try to keep reminding myself that maybe he got sent out of town for work or maybe his computer crashed and it is taking time to get it repaired. I just feel so FRUSTRATED to get so close and have it stop. Hopefully I will hear something soon from this match and I hope there is concrete information about my King line. Until then, all I can do is wait.....

When the unthinkable happens....humanity lost.

Usually the emotions I experience when researching my genealogy are the usual...joy, frustration, anger, puzzlement and satisfaction. I have been researching my family history for over 18 years and it has been fun and satisfying for most of it but recently I came across a situation that I was not ready for and I was not sure how I was going to deal with it.

I have a certain method to my genealogical madness...find the ancestor, find the records to cement birth and death dates, verify that I have the right people and then go about fleshing out their story with census records, personal memories and so on. I was working on one of my Windham ancestors, when EUREKA! I found his death record which listed his final resting place. I was so excited to get this information that I googled the cemetery to get the contact number and that is when my nightmare began.

As I sat staring at my computer, staring at the numerous news articles about the scandal associated with this cemetery as well as pictures of the relatives of those living, searching for the graves of their loved ones and not finding them, I could feel my horror grow. The staff at the cemetery, who had decided that money mattered more than human decency, had been double selling burial plots, removing the original remains and tossing them in a pit on the property or tossing them in mass graves. I sat there in disbelief, anger,  and surprisingly, anguish. I had never met this ancestor but he was my ancestor and I would not be here without him. The idea that someone may have disturbed his final resting place and treated his remains like that broke my heart. I also had the notion that eventually I would need to speak to my dad about this since this was his grandfather.

Jeff Windham seems to be a simple man. He had his family but he would take off at times and he had two names. He either went by his first name, Jeff or his middle name, David. It seems to depend on the status of the person in his life. My great grandmother called him David. He was a junk man and my dad tells stories of Grandpa David taking him and his brother with him sometimes to collect metals and whatnot around the neighborhoods. My dad always smiles when he tells those stories so I can tell that he enjoyed himself and he loved spending time with him. The last thing I want to have to do is tell my dad that Grandpa David,s grave was violated and that I'm not sure where he is. The idea that his remains had been disrespected in such a way made me sick and if I thought about it too long, I would begin to cry. 

After contacting the funeral home and the detective that was on the case, I learned that Grandpa David's grave was not one the graves disturbed. I cannot express the relief I felt when I heard those words. I am also thankful that my family did not have to deal with that type of heartache and the good memories are intact and untainted. Our dead should be shown the utmost respect. To treat them like garbage is the act of a soulless individual.  For those who committed these crimes, I hope that they realize the hurt they cause and learn that your dignity, self respect and humanity are not for sale. Some hurts cannot be fixed and while some will never forgive them, I hope they spend the rest of their lives being agents of good in their community. My heart goes out to the family members of those whose remains were disrespected and violated. I hope they were able to find their loved ones and able to close this chapter on this nightmare and get on with good living. I know that this will not be the story of some of the families and my prayers are with them.

Isaac King....My Ultimate Brick Wall

Isaac King is an enigma...wrapped up in a mystery....buried in a 15,000 piece puzzle. He also happens to be my paternal grandfather. I never met him...I never even knew he existed until I was in my mid-twenties. Growing up, I believed that John D Keys was my grandfather. He was the patriarch of my paternal family and he was loved and adored. I do not remember much about when he was sick. I was only eight at the time and unlike most of my childhood memories, my recollections of this time in my life are hazy at best. Granddad was fine one day, sick the next and then my mom was trying to explain his death to me. What I do remember is how heartbroken my family was...especially my dad. I had never seen him so sad. At the time I had no idea that he was not my blood relative.


I was in my early 20's and I was speaking to my mom about my Granddad and she let it slip that he was not my biological grandfather. Wait..what?!! Who is my grandfather? What is my real last name?! I could not believe that I was 24 years old and did not know who my grandfather was. It took me a couple of weeks to broach the subject with my dad. My dad is AWESOME. I really love him and he has always made sure that I knew that I can come to him with anything. I am also very protective of my dad and would never allow anyone to hurt him. I did not know the circumstances of this bombshell so I was worried that asking him would bring up some painful memories. You know, now that I think back on this, I realize that I was not scared of his reaction to this or if he was going to tell me the truth because I knew he would. When I finally asked him about the situation, he told me that his biological father's name was Isaac King and that he also had brothers in San Francisco somewhere. I was shocked that my dad had extra siblings and that he sis not know much about them. My dad is all about family and he is glue that keeps everyone together. My dad also told me that he met Isaac once when he was a child. Dad stated that he did not like him too much and after that day, Dad never saw him again. I had so many questions but I did not want to reopen any old wounds. Based on the little he told me I could tell that whatever the situation with Isaac, my dad did not have any positive feelings for him. Also, my grandma was still alive and I was not sure how she would feel about me digging into her past so I tried to let it go and just remember Granddad.


My search for Isaac was renewed after I took a DNA test. I had hundreds of cousins and I had no idea how any of us were related. Thankfully my parents were open to DNA testing and I got them tested as soon as possible. However it give me a very few answers and tons of questions. My family tree is pretty extensive but you can see the big empty branch that represents my father's paternal line. The only thing that is there is a name...Isaac King. I have no date of birth, birthplace...NOTHING. I cannot adequately express my frustration with this. I have a need to know more but I don't have any real information that I can actually research. The name itself is pretty common and they are all over the country. I may find something in the 1950 census but I will not wait that long to find out more info. What I do have are several men that look like my dad. I have one match to my dad who recently shared an old picture of him and his dad when he was a baby. This pictured stunned me because his father could be my father's twin. When I showed the picture to my dad, he laughed and asked where did I get that picture of him. You can imagine the hope that flared, although premature, that I had maybe found a connection to my biological grandfather. Unfortunately, we still have not been able to figure out the connection.

A few months after that I was talking to my mother on the phone while checking on my DNA matches on Ancestry and came across a new match with the surname King, I decided to take a peek and found an Isaac King. When I clicked on the the link and there was a picture of this person Isaac. This man looked just like my father. I actually felt like the floor under me had shifted. Here is a man named Isaac King who is the ancestor of a DNA match AND he looks like my father. At this point I realized my mother had been calling my name for quite some time and I demanded that she get online so that I can show her this picture. I sent the picture to my mother with no explanation. She was speechless when she saw the picture and when I told her what the man's name was she told me that I need to share this with my dad. I texted him a copy of the picture and told him to call me. I immediately reached out to the match to try and start a dialogue so that we could figure out if his Isaac King and my Isaac King were the same. My father called me a short while later very amused that this man looked so much like him. My dad asked me who was it and I told him that his name was Isaac King. My dad was quiet for a little while and then asked if it was our Isaac King and I stated that I did not know but that I was checking into it. We chatted for a little bit and then I went back to researching. After talking to the match as well as another family member of this Isaac King I had to accept that this Isaac was not my paternal grandfather since this man lived and died in the Caribbean Islands and we had nothing showing that he ever visited the US. Another disappointment but not a complete letdown and now I have a DNA connection to a King family.

What I have learned in this seemingly never-ending search is that I should reserve all judgement until I have verifiable proof and not to get my hopes up. I can recognize my need to know more and be sensitive to my dad and what he may be feeling.  It has been a long road and the end is nowhere in sight but I will continue to search until I find that one clue or hint that breaks down that brick wall. I know it's out there...I just have to be patient. I WILL find out who Isaac King was and where he lived.

 

My Dad

My match's Dad

Discovery of a warrior...Meeting Mama Cille

Lucille Polk was a strong presence in my mother's family growing up. My mother told me stories of Mama Cille...how she knew when my mother was pregnant just by looking at her, how she had a big heart and took in foster kids. Lucille was called Mama Cille by all her grandchildren and great grandchildren and we heard about how much she was loved by her family and how tough she was. However, outside of my grandmother, Wadie, I doubt any of us had a clue to what had happened in her life.

Mama Cille was born in Hearne, Texas to John William Polk and Selena Jones. I don't know much about her childhood. She died a year before I was born and the details of her life were not shared with me as far as I can remember. Most of what I know about Mama Cille is from the few stories that were shared with me or the research that I have done on my own. I would have loved to meet her and hear her voice. I don't even know what she looked like. What I do know is that her life was not easy.

Mama Cille was 14 when her mother, Selena passed away due to influenza. Within a few short months, Mama Cille married Wade Hamilton Kerr. From what I know of Wade in his younger years, he was not without his demons...he had a serious drinking problem and he would get violent at times. Things were very rocky during this time in Mama Cille's life. She had suffered through a still birth in 1933 and found herself pregnant again by 1934. By the time Mama Cille was was 22 she had three children and her marriage was falling apart. It was not long after that Mama Cille and Wade separated. Mama Cille continued to do what she needed to do to take of her children and put food on the table. Mama Cille definitely did not go through this alone...she had a great support system in her sisters, Martha, Mary, Anna Bell, Mattie Mae and Aunt Ruby.

 After a time, things started to turn around for Mama Cille. She even met a new man, Willie Fountain and they had a brief romance. Unfortunately this was the beginning of a dark time in her life. Willie was not a good man and he scared my grandmother...she would hide whenever she heard him coming. I do not know exactly what he did to my grandmother as she would not talk about it but it affected her all of her life. Eventually grandmama told Mama Cille what was going on. Mama Cille broke things off with Willie. Now here is where things get a little murky.

In 1937, Wade is arrested for the murder of Willie Fountain. According to the newspapers and court records, Mama Cille and Willie were seeing each other while she was estranged from Wade. Eventually she and Wade decided to reconcile. Mama Cille had previously given Willie a lock of hair that he wore on his hat. Mama Cille wanted it back so she and Wade went to Willie's to retrieve the lock of hair. We will never know what exactly happened during this meeting but at the end,  Willie was dead from a gunshot wound. Wade turned himself into authorities afterwards. I have some doubts that the reason Wade shot Willie was because of a lock of hair. I cannot help but wonder if the reason the shooting took place was because of the treatment of my grandmother by Willie. There is a big part of me that thinks that in spite of the fact that Wade was not a good husband he would not stand by and let anyone harm his kids.

For Mama Cille the following seven years are full of upheaval. The story is covered all over Corsicana... I am pretty sure that everyone was talking about it and now her husband was in jail. Wade fought the charge for two years but he was eventually was found guilty and sentenced to 5 years. I am not sure what happened between Wade and Mama Cille during this time but they could not work it out and she filed for divorce and it was granted in March of 1940 shortly before Wade was released from prison. Whatever happened between Wade and Mama Cille, their marriage was over and she later listed herself as "Widowed"on the 1940 census.

From what I can tell, Mama Cille decided to start anew and made the decision to relocate to California. At some point my grandmother followed her and so did Mama Cille's sisters. I have heard numerous stories of life in California and now that I think about it, my grandmama never talked about living in Texas. She only spoke of her memories here in California. 

Mama Cille settled in the Bay Area and rebuilt a good life for herself with her family surrounding her. Her children had grown up, married and settled in the Bay Area as well. At the end of her life, she was surrounded by her sisters, her children, her grandchildren, nieces, nephews, foster children and friends.

It is really inspiring for me to see what Mama Cille lived through. She had many trials and tribulations through her life and she seemed to handle it all with a strength and dignity that appears to have never failed her. I guess that famous quote is right, "It is not how you weather the storm, it's how you dance in the rain". I am proud to be her descendant and I have a better understanding of why the women in my family are so resilient. My mother is my hero and I have always wondered where she got her amazing strength and courage. How could she keep a positive attitude while in the midst of heartbreak and turmoil? Apparently it is a trait that Mama Cille instilled in her children and grandchildren.  Mama Cille was an amazing woman and while I feel sad that I never got to know her personally, I am happy that I was able to research her and tell her story.

*I want to give a shout out to my Aunt Lisa who helped me piece a lot of this together. I never would have understood the depth of character Mama Cille had if my Aunt had not filled in the blanks. Thank you.