Category: DIARY OF AN ADOPTEE (Page 4 of 17)

My “favorite sister,” as she prefers to be called, sent me a number of articles and photos published through the years by Newspaper.com of the man we hold in common. Cecil Ralph Banister of Scipio, Indiana is her father and my birthfather that brought us together a few years ago from DNA samples through Ancestry.com. We’ve gotten together twice and text frequently about sports and common family. He passed many years ago presumably not ever knowing of my existence, so I naturally never got the opportunity to meet him. 

I do look like him in photos, a physical connection that adoptees like myself often never get to experience. I purposely subscribed and submitted to the Ancestry website to learn more about my past, while she was tested as a gift from her son, undoubtedly shocked at the results. Her son was skeptical for bringing me into her life, but I think we’re both glad that he tied us together. Cecil and his wife, Marilyn, who was also likely stunned when I materialized at the Creekside home they built, had four other daughters and a son. She knew my birthmother Edna Faye Banister from high school but never realized there was a relationship. Despite this awkwardness, she was more than warmly receptive to my wife and I during our visit. 

I appreciate any information on my bio-parents that reveal some of the secrets about them. Edna is still alive but has ignored my claims, so I will probably never learn if there was a courtship or simply a brief affair between these two distant cousins. Letters to Edna’s remaining son and daughter have gone unanswered, although I regularly check their Facebook pages, even if it might be considered stalking. There is a strong curiosity about all ten of my step siblings, but a friendly relationship with only one. I’ve briefly met Cecil’s three other daughters, while his son tragically died as a teenager. By the same token, Edna has sadly mourned the loss of two children. 

The first article I received was from May of 1945 recognizing 13-year old Cecil’s perfect attendance in grammar (oddly misspelled with an e) school. He was four years older than Edna while Marilyn is two years younger, so none of them probably shared any classes together although attending mostly the same schools. Next was a story from December of 1952 when Marine Sergeant Banister of North Vernon returned to the states from Korea aboard the transport General William Weigel in time for Christmas. Thank you for your brave service, Cecil! He and Marilyn had been married since October of 1951, just after my arrival in August of that year.

Marilyn and Cecil gave birth to their first daughter according to a newspaper account in January of 1954. Their son was announced in a clipping from 1955. At the end of the year, the paper reported that Cecil’s 1952 Chevrolet was damaged in the rear section to the tune of $100 shortly after 5 p.m. Maybe commuting from work? A second vehicle received $200 front end damage in the accident, leading me to believe that Cecil was not at fault.  Three months later a headline in 1956 showed a second daughter was born. By January of 1957  the couple listed their “6-room house with aluminum storm windows and windows, gas furnace, chicken house, and garden. All well fenced on 1 1/2 acres in Scipio.” This was to accommodate their growing family that soon included “favorite sister” in 1958.

An obituary for Marilyn’s father, Harold Foist, made the 1961 press. He was only 49 but had worked for Cummins Engine in Columbus since 1950, the same year that Cecil started his 35-year career as a machine operator. Cecil and Marilyn’s last daughter was born in 1962 according to a Tribune headline.  A 1963 Republic article recognized Cecil as president of the Scipio slow-pitch softball league. Bill Foist, a cousin, was also one of the organizers, according to the account.  

Cecil was apparently quite the athlete, appearing in numerous stories starting in 1965 with two hits for Building 55 in a 22-18 victory over Drafting as part of the Cummins softball league, and followed that up with three more hits in an 12-2 victory over Personnel. There was also a team photo showing his 6’2″ physique while holding a trophy for winning the Cummins league title. As I look for any genetic  comparison, I played softball for many years in the Media Leagues, although I was two inches shorter. Both of us also played basketball, but he could actually score. The next article mentioned that he had 11-points  for the Gusslers in a 35-32 victory over the Demons. My team would have probably more likely been named the “Guzzlers.” Another report recorded him with 10-points in a 33-31 win over Hatchets. The following year, 1966, he had two hits for Mahan Ford in their win over the Seymour Eagles. In 1967, he made euchre news as a runner-up in the Ceraland Championship. The 1988 Republic reported a hole-in-one on a Par-3 with a pitching wedge, as he proved his skills in golf, a sport where I still don’t excel – so much for genes. 1990 and 1993 kudos include winning Senior honors in both miniature and par-3 golf.

Cecil’s mother, Daisy Branham Banister, died in 1992 as acknowledged in The Columbus Republican, while The Seymour Tribune posted the 2005 obituary of Marilyn’s brother, Ronald Wayne Foist, another long-time Cummins employee. Other Banister-related family news included military honors, marriages, and graduations. The last clipping I was sent was of Cecil’s death in 2001 at age 79. He left behind “six grandchildren and two great grandchildren.” Edna is now approaching 88, so I at least have longevity on my side. I was certainly grateful to get these little Banister tid-bits, as I continue the search surrounding my roots.  

My parents, who both passed seven years ago, were born one day apart one hundred years ago. Although they are no longer physically here to celebrate, they will always be in my heart and part of my life. If there is a heaven, they would certainly both be there now, given their compassion for and generosity to others. To me, they are saints who made my success in life possible. They could not have children of their own, so they adopted both me and my younger sister to share their lives.

I was brought into their family in October of 1951, two months after I was born. They both lived to be 93, dying just months apart in 2014. They were my caretakers for nearly 63 years, but my dad sadly couldn’t recognize me the last few while my mom was overburdened during this difficult time with his needs. Dementia took its toll on both of them, although only his mind was affected. He went into assisted living while she remained at home. I was too far away to be of much help, so my sister took on the responsibilities for their care. I should have been there for them, as they were always there for me. 

There were a lot of “should-haves” that I managed to ignore, consumed in my remarriage and career. Distance was always my excuse, but they raised me to be independent. I caused a lot of anguish in their lives, especially in my college years. I have my share of regrets, as I think back to living under their roof and the difficult transition into adulthood. They did not deserve the grief that I put them through, but as I’ve learned, this is part of being a loving and forgiving parent. 

I can’t imagine being part of a better family or be given greater opportunities. I drew life’s winning lottery ticket, when the alternatives could have been abortion, foster care, or mismatched adoption. Here I am now leading a comfortable retirement life with grandchildren of my own thanks primarily to them. Happy 100 Mom and Dad with all my love – let them eat angel cake!

SPOILER ALERT!!! Move over Game of Thrones, there’s now a new adoptee in the world of streaming. Jamie Dutton is surprised to find out he’s adopted, but we still don’t know how this will ultimately affect his life? Will he meet his birth father? It’s not as if he’ll take over the throne, plus he already lives like a King.  He’s not even a bastard child, like in most television scenarios, although his bio-father served prison time for killing his mother.  Bastards Unite! (See Post #745). Jamie has already killed sister Beth’s chances of having children. How will she react to this news?

My parents thankfully told me I was adopted at a very young age. They did not leave it for me to discover by surprise later in life. This was Jamie’s shocking news as went through the legal process of confirming his identity for the position of Montana Attorney General. It apparently never surfaced when he applied for Harvard or received his law degree.  It also never occurred to Kevin Costner’s character, John Dutton, that this information might be important to his “son.” It’s sad that he had to find out from a records clerk, then forced to confront his “father” about why the truth was hidden from him? As a fellow adoptee, I find this particularly disturbing!

I suppose everyone dreams they have a secret identity that they will someday discover. By the same token, there are justifiable reasons for adoption and even abortion. I’m grateful that my birth mother did not choose to end my life before it started. I’m thankful that my loving parents took me in as their own, and gave me everything that I could possibly want. However, I often naturally wonder what life would have been like if I hadn’t been adopted? How would the story of my life have changed? 

I’m sure that Jamie Dutton, born  James Michael Randall, eventually reflects on how his life might have been different if his mother would have lived. Instead, he lived a life of privilege on a massive Montana ranch with no knowledge of his past. Unlike Jamie, I never had to question the love of my adopted parents. They stood by me in good times and bad, so I could have never possibly received greater love. My birth mother apparently doesn’t even want to reacquaint with me. The birth father passed many years ago, but I at least have contact with his children. It also appears that Jamie has at least one sibling, adding a little more drama to the series.

I’m glad my life is not a television soap opera. Stay Tuned!

As I continue to work on Ban(n)ister World, I gain a greater appreciation for those involved in the study of genealogy. Ancestry.com makes it easy for anyone to build a family tree, utilizing the extensive research of others. There are very few people who still comb through public records or visit graveyards or libraries anymore. We rely on others to do the dirty work, while there’s little proof that their research is accurate. Over time, I’ve learned of those I can rely on when it comes to family heritage. I’m fortunate to have a few contacts that occasionally question or challenge my entries. 

My tree is probably out of hand, as I continue to search for DNA matches. It’s the most reliable way of tracking relatives, but becomes a slow and tedious process. There are currently over 46,000 matches that I have through Ancestry alone. I also have tested through 23andMe and Family Tree, adding to this total. I’m certainly not a scientist, but little by little I’m learning some of the intricacies of genetic data passed along from generation to generation. I think it’s fascinating to explore each match and attempt to find a common tree connection. Just yesterday, I reached the 500-mark in identifying these particular relatives. I’ve had to add nearly 30,000 people to my tree just to find them. One of every sixty names on the Jerry Banister Family Tree is labeled with a green DNA Match. Most are on the lower branches with testing services limited to the current, living generation. Only y-DNA can track paternal links through the ages. 

With regard to y-DNA, I’m technically connected through my birth father, Cecil Ralph Banister, to these Ban(n)ister relatives:

– Donald Ray Bannister to Edward Wesley Banister    1819-1912.

– Alan Banister to James Banister

– William Neill Bannister to William Lawrence                Bannister 1833-1898

– George Huntington Bannister to James Allen   Bannister 1848-1889

– Sandra Bannister-Knox to James C. Bannister born 1820

– Paul D. Banister to Burrel Banister born 1779

There are other y-DNA relatives that come into play, but at lower marker levels, including Ronald William Forbes, Douglas C. Koch, Jose Manuel Hoyos Vazquez, Pedro Collazo Ornes, Eric Gregory Forbes, Garfield Kevin Hood, Bruce Edward Banister, Barry C. Bannister, James A Sproul, John S Sproule, and Michael Patrick Bannister. Some of these I’ve been in touch with, identified on my tree, or have no idea of the connection yet. Laborn, Laban, Jarret, Burrel, Thomas, and Balaam are the principal Ban(n)ister forefathers that link us to each other, but family genealogists have not been able to clarify how they and we are all related. It’s a fascinating real-life mystery that may never be solved. Accurate records weren’t maintained back then and DNA technology did not exist. Notes were written on the cover pages of family Bibles that have long ago deteriorated. 

I will continue my quest for answers, made more difficult through my limited contact with Ban(n)ister family members through the years. As an adopted member of the clan, I’ve never had any association with my birth parents. The mother is still alive but unreceptive. I’ve always been on the outside looking in, with only a few cousins and half-siblings willing to accept my short-lived association with the Ban(n)ister name. I often wonder why I spend so much time searching for answers? 

Today is September 11th. I think we all know what that means. It was an unforgettable day of horror, as the Twin Towers, that many of us New York City tourists once stood upon, crashed to the ground. There were of course other atrocities committed in conjunction with this act of terrorism. It goes without saying that many lives were lost and most of our lives were changed.

I remember that day 19 years ago like it was just yesterday, but I recently discovered from adoption records that September 11th was also the day I was separated from my birth mother 69 years ago. Naturally, I don’t remember any of the circumstances, but it was a day that had a profound influence on my life. The decision was made to move in different directions. Probably with good reason, she could not raise me as her own, and it became the adoption agency’s responsibility to find me a home. It turned out to have a happy ending for me.

About a month later, I had found the two people I will forever call “Mom and Dad.” They raised me as their own and gave me all the tools of life to succeed. On September 17th, six years ago, I lost my Mom, and a month later my Dad died. My birth mother, on the other hand, had four more kids that she raised after our separation. Two of them apparently died in the prime of their lives to a deadly disease. The other two were from different fathers, while their mother and my “bio-mom” is now 87. There has been no acknowledgement from any of them regarding my existence. I’m surprised they aren’t responsive or curious, but I’m not angry. Separation is to be respected. 

I’ve recently been reunited and in regular contact with a half-sister on my birth father’s side. This came about through DNA testing. It’s slowly becoming a close relationship, and makes me wonder if I should try harder to connect with my birth mother’s kids? In all, I’ve had ten half-siblings through my birth parents, but three have sadly died. I’ve met four of my bio-father’s offspring and will probably meet the fifth once we move to Florida. The one I stay in touch with, including a recent lunch, has become the clear “favorite.” However, I also have an adopted sister that I grew up with that might be offended if I start to determine any favorites. 

On a card I received for my recent birthday, it notes, “Here’s to Your Awesome Existence.” It is indeed awesome to consider how far I’ve come in these past 70 years of life. I’ve lost family and I’ve found new ones. Separation gave me opportunity, and I hope to continue to take advantage of the circumstances. I’d just like to say, “thanks for giving me life in the first place.”

I received my Y-DNA report from Family Tree this morning, resuming the quest for direct ancestry links. It showed six Ban(n)ister matches including Paul D., Sandra Knox, Donald Ray, Alan, William Neill, and George Huntington. I’ve been in regular contact with Paul Banister, who initially encouraged me to take this test. Working together, hopefully we can identify the missing links in the Ban(n)ister family. It will be interesting to see where this leads. 

This is my third DNA test. I first went to 23andMe that uncovered two second cousins. This got me really fascinated, so I sent an additional saliva sample to Ancestry. I got an even closer match with a half-sister! As a result, The Jerry Banister Family Tree began to have significant meaning. In most cases, it’s filled with ancestors that I’ve never met or never will, but there about a dozen relatives that I’ve connected and communicated with regularly. It’s like finding a whole new family – not that I needed one. 

In fact, I feel guilty that I’ve spent more time with this new family than with my adopted relatives. Several are in Indiana, while one lives in Thailand. I do stay in touch with my sister every week, but haven’t seen her or her kids in two years. Facebook has kept me in the lives of those cousins that were a key part of my youth. Only weddings and funerals have brought us together, but not in the last ten years. Distance back home from Austin and Portland have limited family get-together opportunities. Trips to Indianapolis to visit my wife’s family have had me focused on DNA matches in that area, without time to drive a hundred miles north. I’ll meet with my top DNA match, my birth father’s daughter, on the soon to be drive to Florida.

I’m waiting for a response from Paul Banister on this last test. Interestingly, he was not a match on Ancestry but is on Family Tree. He’s probably the most knowledgeable of my Banister connections about family history. We recently lost what many considered to be the guru of family research. She worked closely with Paul on how forefathers like Laban or Laborn and Burrell were connected. There are confusing records that have led to discrepancies on various Ban(n)ister Family trees. As with any mystery, more DNA evidence like mine could help ultimately solve the case. 

In these pandemic times, I realize that I haven’t written much about my quest for DNA relatives. I have in fact submitted a third swab test through Family Tree that should provide more details on the paternal side of my family. Without getting too technical, there are three main types of DNA tests on the market: y-chromosome (or y-DNA male), mitochondrial (or mtDNA female), and autosomal (non-sex). Males have one Y chromosome and one X chromosome, while females have two X chromosomes. Y is the paternal connection and therefore my y-DNA test will follow the male Banister lineage. 

Genetic scientists have found that the specific quality of y-DNA that makes it so attractive is its faithfulness in passing down its record generation after generation, without fail, without changing, from one man to the next. That means that any living male today has the same (or very similar) y-DNA as every male in his direct paternal line, back 8, 10, 12+ generations.” In other words, my y-DNA will be the same as my father, grandfather, and great grandfathers. 

According to these same experts, “One of the best applications of y-DNA testing comes when trying to disentangle the relationships of various men living in close proximity with other men of the same or similar surname. Having descendants of these men test their y-DNA is like traveling back in time and conducting personal interviews of each of these men.” In my case, I’ve never met any of these Banisters, so it will be my first “conversation” with the dead. The line includes Cecil Ralph Banister (1931-2011), Arlie Adam Banister (1904-1992), Charles B. Banister (1875-1940), David Banister, Sr. (1837-1918), and Laborn Banister (1801-1885). This is as far back as we can accurately trace my ancestry, since beyond that are a confusing line of William Banisters.

Our ancestors weren’t very creative when it came to names. It was not uncommon to have multiple Williams in the same family. Nicknames like Senior, Junior, Bill, Billy, Will, Willie, and initials were used to distinguish them in life, but their records and tombstones all used the formal surname William. What was originally an endearing tribute to the father have modern day genealogists scratching their heads in confusion. To add to the uncertainty, there was an extra “n” in the spelling of some of their last names. This y-DNA test will be my contribution to help solve this mystery, along with the data of ten other Ban(n)ister relatives. y-Not?