I’m getting ready to head-out on a 3,000 mile journey from Portland, Oregon to Washington D.C., as the crow, or in this case, the jet flies. It’s a variation of the Lewis & Clark trail, with a slight detour through Chicago, and without the risk of Indian attacks. I’ll spend Wednesday and Thursday in Chicago and then leave for D.C. Friday morning, returning to Oregon on Sunday. There will be plenty of time for writing updates, since the past week has been a bit short on posts. I’ve spent a lot of time the last few days on Ancestry.com and Facebook, trying to sort out some missing pieces of the Banister family puzzle. I’ve also added a few branches to my adopted Johnston family history, as both trees dramatically intertwine over the next five or so days. There is also an unexpected “twist” to this cross-country journey, since I’ve now added a third “meet-and-greet” along the way.

The initial impetus of this trip was to meet my wife’s daughter’s potential fiance for the first time. They have been dating for well over a year now, and are coming to Portland in September for a wedding on his side of the family. My wife felt that we should meet him in a little more relaxed atmosphere, and get to know him in advance of dealing with the entire entourage of relatives. This is the second “boyfriend” meeting I will have experienced this year. Both of my wife’s girls have been consumed with advanced education and careers, so they’ve had little time or interest in dating. For the first time, they both have serious relationships, to the point where we’ve been called-in for critical evaluation as mother and step-father (like my opinion really matters). I assure you that knowing these young women as I do, there will be no concerns about either of these young men. I’m just glad they have simultaneously found partners that they enjoy spending time around.

Once my wife and I decided to travel to The Capital, I decided to make a pit-stop along the way. My son turns 44 tomorrow and has some vacation time. At the same time, I have been unable to work-in a trip to Florida to meet his new daughter and my third grandchild. I probably should have made it a priority to visit them, but I also had to share the moment with other family members, including his mother, so I have missed the first two months of her life. They are taking the baby to see my daughter-in-law’s family in the Windy City, including a Cubs game at Wrigley Field. As a result, I will get to meet them all at the ballpark on Thursday, thanks in-part to the season tickets that my nephew owns. My 9-year old grand-daughter Maddux was named for Hall of Fame pitcher, Gregg Maddux; the newest addition has the suspicious middle name of Grace that might have been influenced by Cub great Mark Grace; and my 11-year old grand-son is immortalized on a ballpark commemorative brick along with myself and my son – “Three Generations.” This is all because my son and his wife are such avid fans.

The third meet-and-greet that I now have planned is all because of a DNA test with 23andMe. It showed me to be a close match with a relative named Janine. I have communicated with her fairly regularly over the past couple months, as I continue the search for my birth-parents. She has been very helpful, and thoughtfully suggested that I get with her 85-year old mother, who happens to live in the Chicago suburbs. Her father and my suspected birth-mother’s father were brothers, so I’m excited about the opportunity to visit with her. She will probably have some family photos to share, as well as some stories to recount. I wish that Janine could join us, but I will share the details with her after my much anticipated conversation with her mother on Wednesday evening.

This will be my first face-to-face meeting with an actual blood relative, and will be the start of my Coast-to-Coast-Meet-And Greet. It may very well be as close as I ever get to my birth-mother, who continues to deny our relationship. I’m almost positive that it’s her, but I also understand her need to protect any uncomfortable feelings about my sudden re-appearance in her life. Abortion was not legal in Indiana until 1973, like most of the country. In 1950 when I was conceived, the only choice for an unwanted pregnancy was humiliation, and I’m confident she faced her share of shame. If my information is accurate, she would have been uprooted from her hometown, never finished high school, and boarded by strangers in Indianapolis through delivery, without the support of the father. He would have been in the service at that time, and probably ignorant of her circumstances. At this point, I am unable to stop the momentum of my quest for answers, and I can only hope that she somehow understands my curiosity that is undoubtedly at her expense.