We all have questions about our roots and the various derivations of our family names. I say names, because there is no singular surname, otherwise we would all be sitting in some shack in the swamp playing the banjo. So having noticed a certain degree of lunacy on my side of the family, and at the insistence of our offspring, I recently embarked on a preliminary search of where I may have inherited this trait. I say “I,” because Blue-eyes, of course, is perfectly normal, with the exception of lapsing into a strange babbling tongue after drinking a couple of Cosmopolitans. This story is true. I just change the names to protect the guilty. And besides that, my real name is not Addingnuttin, just in case you haven’t figured that out. Duh!!
Blue-eyes insists that she is part of a long line of Bohemian noblemen on her father’s side. I used to tease her and suggested that the best she could come up with would’ve been a “band of wandering gypsies,” performing sleight-of-hand magic tricks, prancing trained bears, some guy playing the violin and gorgeous, seductive females wearing a bunch of tassels and little else, dancing around an open fire. I would threaten to expose her on her genealogy stuff by suggesting the next time we had friends over, I would put on some gypsy music, hand her a jug of wine, a rose to put in between her teeth and take pictures. I won’t repeat what her response was to this suggestion, in order to keep my PG-13 rating. Some years back, I told her I was going buy her an ”off the shoulder blouse and a gypsy looking full skirt,” and she promptly told me that if I did, I would have to wear it. The better part of valor made me rethink this little prank. The couch is not that comfortable.
A couple of years ago, I got on the computer and punched in her maiden name and behold, there was this town in what used to be the Kingdom of Bohemia, named after her family. Of course, Bohemia doesn’t really exist anymore. It is now part of what used to be the Czechoslovakian Republic and is now called just plain Czech Republic, which has only changed hands about 20 times in the last hundred years. Clearly the Bohemians were lovers, not fighters. As a side note, what the hell happened to the Slovakians anyway? Did they just disappear like the Mayans? God, I hate it when that happens!
On her mother‘s side, you can trace the family back a long way, as it is a unique European name. The first ones that showed up in the U.S. are in the area now known as Wisconsin, and one of them fought in the Winnebago War. Hell, I didn’t even know they made Winnebagos back then, and can’t for the life of me figure out why an RV would cause a war. I jest!
They got into the lumber business a few years before the state became part of the Union, and according to Blue-eyes, cornered the cheese box market. I jest not! I guess in Wisconsin, with all those “Cheese-heads,” that would be a big deal. They’re still in business today, believe it or not. I couldn’t find any real culprits on her side of the family, with the exception of one great uncle who took off with a barmaid and was never heard from again.
Going back to the European connection – they’re all over the place – mostly Scandinavia and France. I guess that’s where her blue eyes came from, along with the icy glare that I get when I screw up. I couldn’t find any aristocratic connections and rather suspect that since the name is scattered all over Europe, they got kicked out of a lot of countries or had to leave in a hurry. Her mother spoke a little French and a little German. I know this because she would call me things in those languages. We didn’t get along all that well, as is the case with many mother-in-laws, simply because she thought I was more than just a little “weird.” The nice part of that warm relationship was the fact that she lived better than 500 miles away.
Now my side of the family was a totally different story. The name is so common that I have two people living in my little community with the same name, much to their chagrin. I have been able to track down a few interesting things about the family which resided mostly on the East Coast, specifically New York and Boston.
I can trace one member, Thomas L., who fought in the War of 1812, but they don’t say on whose side. In that he lived on Cherry Street in old New York, I have to assume it was the U.S. He was stationed at a place called “Mcgowan’s Pass,” which is now part of Central Park. He must’ve been good, because I don’t believe the Brits ever got past Central Park. The only thing that was there at that time was a Tavern, and based on other family histories, is probably why he was successful. They probably hit the rum punch a bit! He died around 1882, according to a New York paper. And they say rum punch is bad for you?
I ran across this folder that had letters and stuff from my semi-sane, half aunt. We had corresponded on and off for a number of years, and had talked about our family tree’s various branches, if that’s the proper term for genealogy. So it turns out that my great, great, great grandfather on my father’s side was a fellow by the name of Valentine Gee, born in Canada about 1829. That makes him my great grandmother’s father, whose maiden name was Gee. Are you with me so far?
So, I was doing the Google stuff and punched in his name, and lo and behold, found out that in the late1860’s he was part of a very sophisticated industrial bond forgery scam to the tune of $50 million. This guy didn’t mess around, because $50 million in 1870’s is the equivalent of at least $500 million by today’s standards. The way I found out was this news article printed in a New York paper, which led me to portions of the court records regarding a civil suit.
He went to jail for a very short period of time, but because of a lack of evidence, the charges on a criminal basis were dropped. It would appear as though his wife, my three-times-removed grandmother was also involved, as well as her brother, Horace Cordy, and they were all later defendants in a civil suit. They were not tried on a criminal basis because of a lack of witnesses, many of whom had returned to Britain or perhaps the Hudson River. As best as I can discover for the moment, he got off with a $5000 fine and maybe got that back later. I’ve not been able to find any other information on these two relations, and rather suspect they took their money and moved to Venezuela, where there are no extradition laws. I think I’ll write the Venezuelan Consulate. Hell, I might own half of Venezuela and not know it! On the other hand, they might not have done it and pigs can fly!
Now my question is, what the hell happened to the rest of the money, and why didn’t I see some of it? I think this will be the subject of my next book, after I finish my current book, (and do the stage play, and complete the musical score). I’m going to attempt to vindicate him, clear the family name and file a lawsuit for defamation, unless the statute of limitations has expired. I wonder if I can find any witnesses. Sounds like fundamental fun, doesn’t it? I guess the message here is, there are some things you really don’t need to know. I personally think it’s pretty hysterical – I validate two distant relatives and one of them turns out to be a big-time forger. The odds on having a prominent family tree have just gone south.
These are the only two people of which I am a direct descendent, which I can establish factually. At this point I’m not sure I have any further interest in genealogy. Besides, you get on the web and everybody and their brother is trying to sell you something, because they found the person you’re looking for, who has been dead for at least 100 years. Maybe they will make an offer to dig them up for you. “Send us your credit card number and we’ll air express the final remains of your dearly departed hundred-and-fifty-year-old great, great, great grandfather.”
Moral of the story – If you’re going to dig into your past, you may end up with shovelful of you know what!
J.J. Addingnuttin 