Family Secrets - With a Very Happy Ending

a yearFamily Secrets – With a Very Happy Ending

One day while in Arizona I went to the mail box and found a letter addressed to me but with my mother’s address. I opened it and it was from this lady who said she was trying to solve a puzzle. She asked me several questions about events that had happened many years ago and if any of those events sounded familiar. At first I was not real certain what she was asking. She did say she was not a stalker or wanted a kidney, in fact the letter was quite entertaining and funny in most respects, but the tenor of the letter was serious. She asked if I would write or call her and help her figure out the answers to some questions she had.

I let my mother read the letter and she picked up on it right away. She said for me to throw the letter away. I said I needed to think about this for awhile. My mind ran the gambit of what the letter was really asking and if the person writing this letter was legitimately wanting to know a certain fact or two or trying to set me up for something far more sinister . I asked a close friend of mine to do some internet stalking to see what he could find. His results found that indeed she was a real person, lived where she said she lived, and her bio seemed to be non threatening. She had suggested that perhaps I was her biological father but without coming right out and saying it.

Some well meaning friends told me not to contact her and others said for me to contact a lawyer before I did anything. I ignored both sets of advice. I figured that if I was or was not her bio father she had a right to know, and so did I. I called her.

We chatted on the phone for awhile, really for more than a while and we both sort of figured out that I was probably who she thought I was. I will never forget what she said, “I have wondered what this day would be like for over 20 years” I asked her if it was what she thought it would be. She told me it exceeded her wildest expectations. I was elated for reasons that might seem odd.

However, there were still some mysteries remaining. I was not sure of the circumstance of her birth. I was not sure who her biological mother was or even could have been. I am ashamed to say that I could not remember anything happening or that I thought might have happened to cause this with anyone particular girl, but on contemplating the situation I narrowed in down to three possibilities.

She sent me a copy of some information that she had been able to collect over the years, with some pictures of her biological mother, half sister, and herself. After reading the contents I figured out who the bio mother was from my past and the interlude that ended up causing the recent enlightenment. Those circumstance are not really important. Let’s just say that it was 1968, One Block West was the place to go and meet girls, and one could go and have a great time for a week or two without regards to consequences, or so we thought back then.

I had no idea that the girl I met and hung around with for a week or two got pregnant. No one informed me, no one even suggested that such a thing had taken place. I even new her sisters in college, but they never uttered a word.

Her folks would have none of it. They sent her to a home that unwed mothers went to in those days and she was forced, so to speak, to give up the baby girl. It had to be heart wrenching for her. I have known several young ladies, some very close friends that had similar situations happen to them and some who took more drastic actions, and they all say you never quite get over it and never forget it and wonder how the child’s life turned out or might have.

Well in my bio daughters case it turned out well. She was raised by a mother and father who loved her and she loved them, was a cheer leader in high school in a small town, she went to college on a scholarship, and now has a successful career helping others. She has three children of her own, a nice husband and 4 step children and a recent grand baby.  Believe me if I had been involved in her early life when I was young and more stupid then I am now, her life would not have turned out so well.

She has met my other children and we even took a “family” type of picture. When I am asked how many children I have I always say 5 and seldom have to go into the entire story of where the 5^th one is. In fact I am just as proud of her as my other children and sort of relish relating the story about her doggedness of searching for me for over 20 years.

I realize that I am not her father, he is the one who set up with her and nights and guided her into adulthood. She calls me Conley and that is how it should be. She met my mother, who seemed just as thrilled as me to have her presence known and mom gave her a family heirloom. I have informed her of what her McAnally roots were and I told her I would be as little or as much a part of her life as she wished me to be. I told her I had no right to expect anything from her. We keep in contact via  phone, facebook, and email.  She lives in western Kansas but I manage to go by and see her a couple of times .  
  

Family Secrets - Oregon or Bust

Family Secrets – Oregon or Bust

My grandmother on my father’s side was born to a tenant farmer in the back woods of Tennessee.  She was the seventh child out of what would become nine children in all.  For reasons not known to me her father decided to uproot the family and head for Oregon where I guess he assumed that life would be better.  They must have looked like the Beverly Hillbillies when they all loaded into a pickup truck and headed west.

They got as far as Platt County Missouri when the truck broke down and his wife decided to have their ninth child in the back of the pickup.  Out of money and vehicle and with another mouth to feed, plus a sickly wife he got a job on a farm for less than the going wage but a house was thrown in to the mix.  He thought according to what my grandmother could remember that he would only be there just long enough to scratch some money together to fix his truck and continue their westward migration.  However his wife was bitten by a brown spider and given the medical treatment available at the time and an already sickly condition due to her last child being born under less than desired circumstance she died.  He was left with nine children ranging from ages 10 years old to three months.  His dream of Oregon had busted.

It soon became obvious that he was not going to be able to take care of them all and with the help and guidance from the local child welfare agency of Platt County the children were placed in foster homes, no two children being placed with any one family.

Except for the youngest three, my grandmother included, all the brothers and sisters lost track of each other for several years there after.  My grandmother and her two youngest sisters some how managed to keep in contact and given their very young ages it is remarkable to me that they were able to do so.  I guess they had the same case worker and he or she stayed on top of things.

While the two youngest children seemed to have been placed in stable homes, my grandmother bounced from one foster home to the next for the next several years.  By the time she was entering the sixth grade at Mt Washington Elementary School,( the same school I went to years later,) she had moved in with one of her older sisters who had left the foster care system and married.

Times were tough and when grandmother was in the seventh grade her brother-in-law told her that she was going to have to drop out of school, get a job and help pay her own way if she wanted to continue to live with them.

The next day the school principal, Mr. Ritter, noticed that Tennessee, my grandmother’s name then and the cause of much teasing by classmates, was up set.  She told him about her having to drop out of school.  With the help of the principal at Sugar Creek, Mr. Stone, and the county welfare agency they placed her in another foster home.  Her new foster parents were pretty well-to-do and it just so happened that the foster family was also named Stone, the lady of which was always referred to as Mother Stone when I would be told a story or two growing up.  Others in the family called her Nono, a name apparently given her by my dad.

Her new home came with a new foster sister, a foster cousin, her own bedroom, and a new name, Marie.

Given the fact that she was now in an upper middle class well-to-do family that thought education important, her future looked bright.  She continued her schooling for a few more years but then my grandfather showed up.  He had just returned to Independence from his time in the army and he was a dashing blade.  He jauntily wore a round straw hat, a blue blazer, and white trousers and had a job.  He was considered to be quite the catch among the local females looking for husbands at the time.  He zeroed in on Marie against the wishes of Mother Stone but like in most cases the wisdom of adults was no match for the passions of youth.  They were married two years later.

Family Secrets - Mr. Truman

Family Secrets – Mr. Truman 

When I tell people I come from Independence, depending on their age, they always say something like, “Ah, yes the home of President Truman.  I always say yes.  I tell them that Independence is famous for Harry Truman, Jessie James, and Joseph Smith and “there was not much difference between two of them, take your pick.”  That always got a laugh.

I go on to tell them about how often I saw Mr. Truman, (as those of us in the know refer to him) and they are always thrilled by my accounts.  When they return to wherever they are from I suspect they tell everyone they met this guy who seemed like he and President Truman were best friends. 

The truth of the matter is that I only saw Mr. Truman one time and that was in a limousine he was riding in with President Johnson the day he (Johnson) signed the Medicaid or Medicare Bill at the Truman Library and then just briefly.

I did know a lot of people who knew him very intimately and their stories about him were the foundations of mine.  My grandfather did get Mr. Truman to sign my Masonic membership card via the bodyguard and I did drive by his house many times.  I was also once the Executive Officer of his old Battery D artillery unit, but that was about the size of his involvement with the “Old Man (the name used by the local politicians when referring to him.)  My mother on the other hand had a much more interesting contact with him.

 Mom and Mr. Truman lived on the same street.  She would walk south along 

Delaware street

to catch the bus down town and most every morning he would go on his famous walks north along Delaware.  They would pass and he would always tip his hat and say, “Good morning mam.”  She would nod and say, “Good morning Mr. President.”

One day he stopped her and said that he had been passing by her almost every morning for the last several months and wanted to know where she was always going and what she did.  She told him she was a telephone operator in Kansas City and she caught the bus each day on Truman Road by his house.

  There was an awkward silence and mom said “And what is you do now?”  He responded, “Not much really.”

Every morning there after when they passed one another Mr. Truman would tip his hat and say, “Good morning telephone lady,” and then she would respond, “Good morning Mr. Truman."

Family Secrets - The Melting Pot of Diversity

Family Secrets: The Melting Pot of Diversity

America: The great melting pot.  The McAnally family: the melting pot of diversity.

Recently I found out two things that had long gone unknown to our family.  One, I cannot trace very far, and could be just a family type of an urban legend and the other, with a little speculation of historical migratory facts, could be true.

My oldest cousin let the cat out of the bag by saying that his mother had told him that her father had ancestors that were of Asian decent.  None of the family look Japanese or Chinese but there is a slight family resemblance with the Mongols of the western steppes by some of the older pictures I have seen of my relatives on my grandmother’s side.  So I could be related to one of the Kahn boys.  But who knows and will ever know.  My grandmother’s side of the family are 100% Americans whatever that means.

My grandfather’s side of the family was also 100% Americans.  Of course his great great grandfather came from Scotland, via of Northern Ireland, then back to Northern Ireland, where his father was probably fathered by a Spaniard whose ship was wrecked along the coast of Eire after the Spanish Armada failure.  The Spaniard was probably descended from either Moors or maybe even a frisky Roman legionnaire, who gained his freedom fighting in the Coliseum as a gladiator.  But the McAnally family is 100% American whatever that means. 

The McAnally family of this day and age are Americans by choice.  I have an array of cousins, grandchildren, in-laws, nieces, nephews, and a brother and sister, that when we get together looks like a meeting of the United Nations.  For example I have African American grandchildren, Hispanic and Greek nieces and nephews, a Korean daughter-in-law and granddaughter , a son-in-law from the Balkans, the Gay community is represented, a female impersonator vaudevillian (two different people,) several republicans, a couple of democrats, one bomb throwing anarchist, and one in prison.  Some are still fighting the civil war on both sides.  We have a couple of rich ones, more than enough poor ones, doctors, lawyers, and candlestick makers.  The only group not represented is Native Americans but I do have a half brother and sister that by the tone of their skin is suspect, and I dated an Eskimo girl while I lived in Alaska but I don’t think that counts.  But all in all we are all 100% Americans what ever that means.

Family Secrets - Aunt Daisy

Family Secrets - Aunt Daisy

Aunt Daisy lived alone.  She was born the same year that President Truman was and out lived him by ten years.  Daisy never married and was the only non retarded daughter in a house hold of 6 boys.  She was 21 years older than my grandfather and was responsible for much of his parenting. 

Daisy outlived all her family even my grandfather so therefore she was the recipient of all the collectables that the family acquired through the years.  Daisy never married because the family, so my grandfather told me once, never thought anyone was quite good enough for her.  She never worked at a paid job in her life so had no social security and no visible means of support.  My grandfather helped a little in paying for a one room apartment close to where we lived and for a time being she lived with the oldest brother, Frank, a not so nice guy so it was said, who had a wooden leg due to a rail road accident.  She took care of the youngest boy at the beginning of his life and took care of the oldest boy at the end of his life.  Daisy never had a life of her own.  Some how she managed to survive through some sort of old age pension and a rail road pension that some how her brother or father, who had also worked for the rail road once, had managed to arrange.  Her limited income and survival technique was never really explained to me but that is not the family secret.

When Daisy died she left nothing to anyone, basically because she had nothing.  There were some knickknacks around the apartment that were sort of interesting and held some memories for me due to the fact that I had seen them all my life. 

It was left to my grandmother to get rid of anything that was left including Daisy who was buried in the family plot.  My grandmother asked me what I wanted and I said I liked the picture of the Gilded Age lady in the oval frame with the bubble glass.  I use to think it was a picture of Daisy when she was a young lady and when I asked as much she would laugh in what can only be described as a little embarrassing giggle with her hand placed over her mouth and mumble “no.”

Wife Marty wanted the frame with the bubble glass and was not interested in the picture, I was interested in the picture but not the bubbled glass frame.  

I extracted the picture and dutifully gave Marty the frame. (Which she has hanging in her house today, picture being replaced by a McAnally original of some sort.)  After the extract I noticed that on the reverse side there was in inscription in what I recognized as Daisy’s hand writing – “Charlie as Woman.”  I was a little puzzled.

I asked my grandmother about it and she said that was a picture of Cousin Charlie who was a female impersonator some time prior to the 1920’s.  He was an actor but specialized in playing a woman on stage.  “We never really talked about him much, I sort of figured he was just a little strange,” my grandmother said.

Family Secrets - Fern, Orville, Abe, and perhaps one more

Family Secrets - Fern, Orville, Abe, and Perhaps One More.

Fern Neibarger was a real Sooner.  She was born sooner than expected in Oklahoma soon after her mother and father staked a piece of land sooner than they were supposed to. 

Fern’s father proved to be no better of a farmer in Oklahoma than he was in Pennsylvania.  It wasn’t too many years later that the only land he could lay clame to was the plot he was buried in. 

Fern was farmed out, so to speak, to a cousin in Kansas City, Kansas to help clean, cook, and any other domestic chore the older cousin wished to be undertaken.  Fern started looking for a way out of the situation as soon as she got there.  Her rescue game at church one Sunday in the guise of a dashing looking fellow giving the sermon.  He seemed the type of man that held promise.  They were soon married and soon had two daughters, my mother being the youngest. 

Looks can be deceiving and Fern found out, not soon enough, that Orville really had no promise of financial future, was only a minor part of the church laity, and his mother, Alice, came along as part of the marriage. 

Orville was not a stupid or lazy man it was just some work was beneath him, some he thought was wasteful to spend time on, and sometimes his religious views irritated his co workers to the point that somebody had to go and it was usually Orville.  Of course all of this was taking place during the depression to make matters worse.  However Fern was resourceful.

Abe was the widowed mail man who also happened to own a grocery store.  During his rounds delivering mail he became acquainted with every one and their particular situation.  If some one was having difficulty he would make sure that now and then he would let them charge food at his store or in some cases just give them food to get by.  He started supplying Fern and Orville food items on a regular basis.

Orville appreciated the gesture at first but when Orville gained steady employment he noticed that Abe still kept coming around delivering free food items, but always when Orville was away.  Orville demanded that Abe never come back to the house which would have been tricky since Abe was also the postman, but as luck would have it Abe got promoted about the same time and no longer had a route.

Orville and Fern started doing more for the church.  Orville was called upon to do more lecturing while Fern wrote and edited religious pamphlets.  She became so adept at editing and writing that she was noticed by church officials in Independence.  (I hope you have noticed that I have not said which church started by Joseph Smith, nor will I for obvious reason that will soon be divulged.)

The officials in the church found it necessary to work with Fern closer and closer and a real professional friendship developed.  One day probably after a night meeting, which there seemed to be plenty of, Fern and one of the elders realized that their friendship had taken on another dimension.  Their ability to keep such dimensions a secret was not a success for very long. 

When confronted with rumors that were never admitted to or proved, Fern’s friend quietly resigned his position, donated some money to the church and had a library named after him.  Fern on the other hand said that the church had no right to judge her, that she had done nothing wrong in her view and would not give up the laity position she held in the church.  She was threatened with censor and she, based on some doctrine of the church, demanded a trial in front of the entire body of elders.  She was informed that if she insisted on such a trial she would be excommunicated from the church.  She insisted. She was found guilty of transgression against the sacrament of marriage.  Orville was so humiliated of course that he divorced Fern and he and Alice left. 

Like I mentioned above, Fern was resourceful.  She had two kids to take care of.  She looked up Abe, married him and lived happily ever after albeit for not to long.

Fern made the most out of what remained of her life.  She became active in Scouting, spent summers with Abe at Camp Nash, a Boy Scout camp in Kansas, started the first Girl Scout troop in KCK, wrote and published a book of poems and one on religious symbols.  She became very active in a non denominational congregational church.  She contracted lupus fell and broke her hip and ended up dieing at 52 leaving Abe with a huge hospital bill.

The hospital bill was soon paid by an anonymous party.  The only information the hospital would give the family was that payment was drawn on a bank in Independence, Missouri. 

Family Secrets - Trading places

Family Secrets - Trading Places

While not an adventure as such it really did happen and an event I cannot tell another about in person without tears coming to my eyes and not choking on the last two words I say.

It was the summer of 1966 and for some reason that eludes me to this day I decided I wanted to be a pilot. I first thought of jets and talked to the Navy and Air Force. They were not very encouraging because of my lack of a college degree but did offer to let me take the test. I did and failed. Then I thought the Army might be the way to go. The first person I mentioned the matter to was Carl Simonie, my high school English teacher. He just shook his head and said, "Well you know where they will send you."

I then thought it best to say something to my family. That is when the trouble began. They went wild with dread and worry. It seemed like they were more concerned about southeast Asia than I was.  My dad, a veteran of Korea told me he really couldn't give me any advice because if he said go do it and then I got "shot up" he would forever feel responsible. If he told me to wait and then I went and got shot it would be his fault also. My grandmother cried most of the time, my mom did almost the same, my aunts and uncles got after me about how could I do this to my family. My grandfather did not say much at all.

As the time drew nearer for me to take the test that would determine the family future it seemed, the more intense it got around the house. It became almost unbearable, it seemed like the tension could not even be cut with a knife.

Finally it was the morning of the big test. I was standing out on the back porch. My grandfather came out, looked me in the eye and said, "Do you really want to be a helicopter pilot?" I responded yes. "Then son you go do it. I just want you to remember one thing. If I could go in your place, I would." .....Gee I thought I could get through writing  this account without tears anyway.