Finding Mary: A winding road paved by generosity

Inspired by a 23andMe ancestry-search kit’s revelation about my family history, I embarked on a journey to learn about my mother. It took me from California to Lynn and to the Deep South where I learned about my biological family’s past— the good and the bad.  

One of the excursions with my Southern cousin Bobbi Jo* took me to two small counties straddling the Georgia/South Carolina state line to meet more of these relatives. 

During the drive, I contemplated the good fortune that had guided me thus far in the search for my mother’s roots. 

I thought about my daughter, Lauri, who bought me the 23andMe test kit as a Father’s Day present and urged me to take the DNA test. It started this entire adventure. 

I thought about my outreach to relatives and their family members, including Sharon,* the daughter of a genetic relative living in Florida, who had advised me to reach out to a group of volunteers called the Search Squad. Through this Facebook page, I met my “search angel,” Lisa Ann Fanning, who found my mom’s biological father, Charles Everett Kepley.

I thought about Shannon Christmas, a world-famous genealogist who I was in contact with thanks to the help of my cousin Sofia.* Shannon is still helping us to identify and confirm who my mom’s mother was. 

I thought about my third great-grandparents, William Henry Cone and Elizabeth Creech, who Shannon identified and who represented the deepest dive into my family’s past.

An ardent Southerner who I occasionally, sometimes forcefully, disagreed with, Bobbi Jo was relentless in her search for family contacts, including William* Creech. I learned during my genealogy search that every road I traveled down in search of connections to my family branched off onto another road —and then another. 

One of those branches led me to Sue Lee,* Creech’s first cousin, and John,* an avid genealogist for more than 50 years. John helped me sort out the confusion that accumulated as I added more and more names to my search. I told him:

“I am looking for seven families that appear to be my relatives.”

“Steve,” he replied, “this is just one family, not seven families!” 

Meeting him introduced me to rural South Carolina. I had seen Charleston but the Salkehatchie River’s swamp land was a journey past fishermen on small bridges; roadside historical plaques; and cotton fields plush with ripening cotton. Sue Lee, John and their friend Barbara* were waiting for us and we spent the next two days completely focused on my mom’s family. He drove us through Barnwell and Allendale counties, as well as parts of two other contiguous counties. 

We visited well-maintained cemeteries and off-the-beaten-path gravestones. John could have found these burial sites blindfolded. 

We discussed the history of the areas and the historical sites we visited. One such site was the commemoration of the Battle of Rivers Bridge, located in Rivers Bridge State Park. 

This was a battle between Union forces under the command of William Tecumseh Sherman and the Confederate troops under the command of Lafayette McLaws, who succeeded in slowing but not stopping the Union force’s advance through that part of South Carolina. 

I imagined the battle in the swamp with soldiers chest-deep in water on that cold Feb. 3, 1865 day. The past is ever-present in the South with John and Sue Lee describing the homes burned during this battle, and John branding Sherman “a fire bug.” The way they talked made it easy to imagine the battle was fought weeks ago; not 150 years ago. 

Some of my ancestors’ homes were among those burned. Sue Lee shared the story of how the right flank of Sherman’s army “ravaged these counties,” burning her great-aunt’s home. She said a slave family “took them in, fed them and gave them shelter.” 

On our second day together, John brought me to graves he identified as marking the burial spots of my third great-grandparents, William Henry Cone and Elizabeth Creech. I touched the gravestones and imagined what kind of people they were.

John also took me to gravestones and homes still in the Cone family, along with abandoned homes of others he said were my direct ancestors. He pointed to a house he said might have been the home of my mother’s half-sister. 

Finally, John brought me to the grave of the woman he said was my mother’s mother. It was a riveting moment, to say the least.

As I said, genealogical searches follow winding, twisting roads and I am trying to confirm John’s information about my family.

John’s help during my journey was invaluable and he continued, even after my trip, to provide me with information on my lineage and important details about my family tree even as I worked to compare his information against Shannon Christmas’ research into my family. 

Shannon uses various tools to prove relationships and break down the brick walls that are the stuff of genealogical mysteries. His information, like John’s, helped illuminate mysteries about my heritage even as it shone a light down the genealogical road and kept my search alive.

*The author has used a pseudonym for privacy purposes.

NEXT: How I turned troubling discoveries into positive paths.