Twenty-eight years ago, when my siblings and I started down the path of finding my father’s family, I had great confidence that we would solve this mystery. I was young then and filled with the abject surety of a Twenty-Something. But as nearly three decades of life experience settle upon me like an October frost, I find myself entertaining seriously the idea that the answer to this mystery may simply lie too deep for us to uncover. What has not been obscured by time or made inaccessible by distance may well be forever masked in deception. An illegitimate child is reason enough for a family to take extraordinary measures to hide the truth; whatever other shames may have their fingers wrapped in this saga is anyone’s guess.
Nevertheless, I find myself loathe to abandon what has become to me nothing less than a quest. I feel like one of King Arthur’s Knights, driven by some vague hope that the clue to the location of the Holy Grail is just a vale away, hidden in a church closet somewhere, awaiting my discovery. To give up now is to give up all that has been invested and hoped for for so long.
Recently, a friend suggested that I send my DNA to Ancestry.com for analysis.
I had already submitted several tests to Family Tree DNA, one of the first websites to offer DNA testing for genealogical purposes in the early 2000s. Although what we found was valuable—including a definite paternal link to the surname Reeb (and its many variations)—what we did not find was a clear genealogical trail to follow. The family of Reebs to whom we appeared to be related, Gustavus Reeb and Anna Margaretha Stroh of Alsace-Lorraine, had 15 children, many of whom emigrated to the United States at various times throughout the 19th century, settling in Pennsylvania, Tennessee and North Carolina.
In those days, having a dozen children was the norm, and although many often died before adulthood, those who did survive bred as prodigiously as their parents. Exponential growth being what it is, within three generations a family of ten, if each succeeding generation has ten children in turn, will count as many as 1,000 progenitors. That, combined with the fact that we could not be certain of our connection to Gustavus’s family, made a systematic search of his descendants very much like looking for a needle in a haystack. So I was reluctant to submit yet another DNA test to another company; I just wasn’t sure it would produce any new information.
I could not have been more wrong. Within a few clicks after logging into Ancestry.com (after submitting my test and having the results posted), we hit pay dirt: Direct evidence of a tractable family connection. It wasn’t the Holy Grail—but it wasn’t far from it.
What Ancestry.com offers genetic genealogists that Family Tree DNA does not is a treasure trove of digital family trees which tens of thousands of devoted genealogists have spent years collecting and documenting. Some of the families to whom I show a connection have more than 18,000 names in their on-line trees.
In contrast, although Family Tree DNA encourages people to create family trees, few do. Consequently, although I had good evidence that I was related to many people in the Family Tree DNA database, I had no idea exactly how. I e-mailed many presumed relatives, asking for information about their family genealogy but few responded. Consequently, I had no way of knowing exactly how we were related.
(I should note that the handful of people who did respond to my inquiries were generous and eager to help. One devoted genealogist, John V. Reeb, spent decades tracing the family of Gustavus and Anna Margaretha Reeb, and the information he provided was genealogical gold. I cannot overstate my gratitude to him. In this our quest for the Holy Grail, John has been nothing less than a Merlyn.
Nor do I want to imply that submitting my DNA to Family Tree DNA was not valuable. Indeed, that data was like shining a flashlight on the Ancestry.com information. What Family Tree DNA offers that Ancestry.com does not is exquisitely detailed DNA sequencing—so detailed in fact that one can compare individual strains of chromosomes to other people in the database—allowing a person to map ancestral relationships with great precision. The data from Family Tree DNA made it easy to see the importance of what we found on Ancestry.com. Both tests were key to this discovery.)
No fewer than four of the family trees to which I showed a close genetic connection in Ancestry.com included the same man, Simon Reph, born in Northampton, Pennsylvania in 1812 and married to Maria Anthony. That this Simon bears the surname, Reph, which is a known variation of Reeb, is a good sign. That he shows up as a common ancestor in four separate family genealogies in the Ancestry.com database is a great sign, suggesting strongly that we are indeed related. That Simon is a direct descendant of Gustavus and Anna Margaretha Reeb is nothing short of spectacular, as it confirms the conclusions drawn from our Family Tree DNA test. What is even more encouraging is that we also appear to have a clear genetic connection to the Anthonys as well, Simon’s wife’s family. This could only be so if we were direct descendants of this husband and wife.
It is, in short, a colossal find: A clear connection to a specific family tree and a relatively recent ancestor. I owe a debt of gratitude to my friend for his simple but brilliant suggestion.
Our next step is to sift through all of Simon and Maria’s children—and their children, and their children—until we find a connection to Oklahoma City in 1926, the place and time in which my father first appeared in the world (as far as we know). This is no small task. As I said previously, within just a few generations, the number of people to be traced grows to a staggering number. That it was a time when people migrated from one part of the country to another looking for opportunity does not make it any easier. That it took place at a time when record keeping was scant, at best, complicates it further. At the very least, it will require the time and attention of many people working in concert to resolve.
If it can be resolved at all. Although the discovery of Simon Reph is very encouraging, I cannot shake the thought that in spite of it, and in spite of all of the energy that has been poured into this quest to date and all that will yet be poured into it, in the end our Holy Grail may simply never be found.
Nevertheless, I am anxious to learn more about the family of Simon and Maria Reph. They seem to have fallen in love with Northampton County, Pennsylvania; the cemeteries of that county are filled with headstones bearing the surname Reph or some variation. For whatever reason, they were reluctant to chase the dreams that so many other Americans did during those decades.
A few, however, did wander. Indeed, one grandson traveled as far as south central Kansas by the late 1800s—a proximity, in genealogical terms, that is more or less spitting distance to Oklahoma City.
No, we may never uncover the truth to this mystery. On the other hand, the only way to know that for certain is to give it up. And so I have come to realize that in the realm of quests, there is a point where success becomes less important than fortitude, the prize less important than the earnestness of the effort. I suppose Arthur, Gawain, Lancelot and the others felt the same frosty realization settle upon them that I have—that for all their efforts, in spite of all their hope, the thing to which they devoted their entire lives may, in the end, never be theirs. Nevertheless, when morning came, they shook the frost from their cloaks, sheathed their swords, saddled their horses and made for the next vale.
Some quests are just too important to give up.
Nevertheless, I find myself loathe to abandon what has become to me nothing less than a quest. I feel like one of King Arthur’s Knights, driven by some vague hope that the clue to the location of the Holy Grail is just a vale away, hidden in a church closet somewhere, awaiting my discovery. To give up now is to give up all that has been invested and hoped for for so long.
Recently, a friend suggested that I send my DNA to Ancestry.com for analysis. I had already submitted several tests to Family Tree DNA, one of the first websites to offer DNA testing for genealogical purposes in the early 2000s. Although what we found was valuable—including a definite paternal link to the surname Reeb (and its many variations)—what we did not find was a clear genealogical trail to follow. The family of Reebs to whom we appeared to be related, Gustavus Reeb and Anna Margaretha Stroh of Alsace-Lorraine, had 15 children, many of whom emigrated to the United States at various times throughout the 19th century, settling in Pennsylvania, Tennessee and North Carolina.
In those days, having a dozen children was the norm, and although many often died before adulthood, those who did survive bred as prodigiously as their parents. Exponential growth being what it is, within three generations a family of ten, if each succeeding generation has ten children in turn, will count as many as 1,000 progenitors. That, combined with the fact that we could not be certain of our connection to Gustavus’s family, made a systematic search of his descendants very much like looking for a needle in a haystack. So I was reluctant to submit yet another DNA test to another company; I just wasn’t sure it would produce any new information.
I could not have been more wrong. Within a few clicks after logging into Ancestry.com (after submitting my test and having the results posted), we hit pay dirt: Direct evidence of a tractable family connection. It wasn’t the Holy Grail—but it wasn’t far from it.
What Ancestry.com offers genetic genealogists that Family Tree DNA does not is a treasure trove of digital family trees which tens of thousands of devoted genealogists have spent years collecting and documenting. Some of the families to whom I show a connection have more than 18,000 names in their on-line trees.
In contrast, although Family Tree DNA encourages people to create family trees, few do. Consequently, although I had good evidence that I was related to many people in the Family Tree DNA database, I had no idea exactly how. I e-mailed many presumed relatives, asking for information about their family genealogy but few responded. Consequently, I had no way of knowing exactly how we were related.
(I should note that the handful of people who did respond to my inquiries were generous and eager to help. One devoted genealogist, John V. Reeb, spent decades tracing the family of Gustavus and Anna Margaretha Reeb, and the information he provided was genealogical gold. I cannot overstate my gratitude to him. In this our quest for the Holy Grail, John has been nothing less than a Merlyn.
Nor do I want to imply that submitting my DNA to Family Tree DNA was not valuable. Indeed, that data was like shining a flashlight on the Ancestry.com information. What Family Tree DNA offers that Ancestry.com does not is exquisitely detailed DNA sequencing—so detailed in fact that one can compare individual strains of chromosomes to other people in the database—allowing a person to map ancestral relationships with great precision. The data from Family Tree DNA made it easy to see the importance of what we found on Ancestry.com. Both tests were key to this discovery.)
No fewer than four of the family trees to which I showed a close genetic connection in Ancestry.com included the same man, Simon Reph, born in Northampton, Pennsylvania in 1812 and married to Maria Anthony. That this Simon bears the surname, Reph, which is a known variation of Reeb, is a good sign. That he shows up as a common ancestor in four separate family genealogies in the Ancestry.com database is a great sign, suggesting strongly that we are indeed related. That Simon is a direct descendant of Gustavus and Anna Margaretha Reeb is nothing short of spectacular, as it confirms the conclusions drawn from our Family Tree DNA test. What is even more encouraging is that we also appear to have a clear genetic connection to the Anthonys as well, Simon’s wife’s family. This could only be so if we were direct descendants of this husband and wife.
It is, in short, a colossal find: A clear connection to a specific family tree and a relatively recent ancestor. I owe a debt of gratitude to my friend for his simple but brilliant suggestion.
Our next step is to sift through all of Simon and Maria’s children—and their children, and their children—until we find a connection to Oklahoma City in 1926, the place and time in which my father first appeared in the world (as far as we know). This is no small task. As I said previously, within just a few generations, the number of people to be traced grows to a staggering number. That it was a time when people migrated from one part of the country to another looking for opportunity does not make it any easier. That it took place at a time when record keeping was scant, at best, complicates it further. At the very least, it will require the time and attention of many people working in concert to resolve.
If it can be resolved at all. Although the discovery of Simon Reph is very encouraging, I cannot shake the thought that in spite of it, and in spite of all of the energy that has been poured into this quest to date and all that will yet be poured into it, in the end our Holy Grail may simply never be found.
Nevertheless, I am anxious to learn more about the family of Simon and Maria Reph. They seem to have fallen in love with Northampton County, Pennsylvania; the cemeteries of that county are filled with headstones bearing the surname Reph or some variation. For whatever reason, they were reluctant to chase the dreams that so many other Americans did during those decades.
A few, however, did wander. Indeed, one grandson traveled as far as south central Kansas by the late 1800s—a proximity, in genealogical terms, that is more or less spitting distance to Oklahoma City.
Some quests are just too important to give up.
