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Welcome to Notes In My Head. I can sometimes be a deep thinker. Some would say I think too much. This blog is an expression of things that go through my head. I hope people enjoy reading this and get either a laugh or learn something. Feel free to comment. I enjoy the feedback...as long as it's constructive. :-)

Sunday, May 25, 2014

Kings and Queens and Scientists Oh My!



Everyone who is adopted knows that we carry around this thing in the back of our minds that reminds us every day of our lives “Someone didn’t want us”, “Someone gave us away”. No matter how great your adopted family was/is, it is still there, lingering, haunting. No amount of great living will ever make it go away. It is always there in the back ground. We learn to live with its little voice popping up at the most inappropriate times.

My search for my father started in earnest in the late 90’s. I could find nothing on the internet or anywhere else I searched for Ray Morris Hilton, which was the name I was given as my father’s name. For years it was achingly frustrating. After a time I even had doubts that this man actually existed. But I also knew that all it would take would be one little break and I would be able to find him. One little piece of extra information and I would be able to know where and how to search. So I kept going.

That break came a few weeks ago and has revealed some pretty awesome stuff. My adopted father told me once, “Don’t search for your birth father or mother because you may discover things you don’t want to know”. Dad, you were wrong. I ALWAYS want to know. It is the not knowing that will drive a person crazy.

About a month ago, I was searching the Washington Post archives for a story about my maternal grandmother, Helen. I found that story and it turned out to be a sad thing that happened to her. I don’t know why but it took me another week to have the thought that “Oh, maybe I should search the Washington Post for a story about Ray.” So I did. Low and behold, there it was, right in front of me. I couldn’t believe it. It was an “In Memorandum” article and there were four entries. The entries were addressed to Ray Morris Newton (nee’ Hilton) and they were poems that my father had written for the people who were posting the article and it was on the anniversary of his death which occurred in 1965. I knew immediately that I had the right person because the first post was from his sister, Jean. I had known for some time that he had a sister named Jean. No wonder I couldn’t find anything on Ray Morris Hilton, that wasn’t his given name at birth. After some more research I found out that He was born Ray Morris Newton. His mother, Addie, had remarried a man with the last name of Hilton. My father had two step brothers named Harry and George Hilton. For some reason, maybe to feel more like part of the family, my father used the Hilton name. Maybe this man adopted him. I’m not sure about all that but he used the name for several years. It was during this time, that my mother got pregnant and so it was this name he gave the adoption agency. He then went back to using Newton because three years later he had a son, whose last name was Newton.

My father had kind of a crazy life in his short 25 years on earth. Changes in his family life and then there was me. In reading the work that I could find by him, the fact that he had two illegitimate children running around, one which he knew and one which he didn’t, pressed on him. In 1960, perhaps to get more stability in his life, or to get money for college, or both, he enlisted in the Air Force. He served for four years and was medically discharged. I don’t know why yet, I’m waiting on the records from the archive. After being discharged, he moved to Tampa Florida and started college at the University of Tampa.  He made quite a name for himself and became a co-editor of the Poetry Review, a literary magazine put out by the college. His major was English Lit and he even belonged to an English Literature Honor Society, Sigma Tau Delta.

My father died in 1965 of a Cerebral Vascular Hemorrhage, which came on suddenly. Had he lived he would have been 75 this September. He lies at Arlington National Cemetery which is an honor for our family and I know he would be pleased to know that he ended up there, as morbid as that may sound.

My father wasn’t afraid of morbidity. Much of his work that I’ve found so far is filled with it. From what I can tell so far from the things I’ve read and the pictures I’ve managed to get a hold of, he was a gorgeous, creative man, a writer of poetry, a dancer, tall, tight waving medium blond hair and a killer smile, not the open mouth teeth showing kind of smile, but mischievous and knowing, like mine actually.  My brother looks like me and we both look like him, same nose; same eyes. He was sensitive and thoughtful and I have no doubt that had he lived we would have been great friends and he would have wanted a relationship with me. I believe it was painful for him to give me up. The mother of his son, not only kept him but also gave him Ray’s last name (Newton). I think this may have helped him heal some of the wounds he felt in giving me up.

Had he lived I would have been able to share all of my recent research with him which I’m sure would have made him laugh at the irony of it all but also understand the gravity of our ancestral history, which is very long and quite grand. I believe he then would have been able to lay to rest some of his demons knowing that our family line dates back almost 2,000 years and is filled with interesting stories and notable people. In looking at the history, all of the Newtons have been through much and come a very long way.

In recent history, our ancestors were all farmers from Stafford Virginia going back through the 1600’s but there are some notable people in our paternal line. Our first cousin, eleven times removed from him, twelve from me, was Sir Isaac Newton. Yes, THAT Sir Isaac Newton. You know the one, invented the telescope, discovered the theory of gravity, and discovered the theory of light and color which is still used by science today. He was also a religious scholar, something most people don’t know about him as it is not widely published but he had serious questions about “Trinity-ism” and so studied the bible and other religious texts deeply and wrote about his studies. Because of the time and place he lived (England in the 15th century) his work on this subject was not published until almost 200 years after his death.  I wonder what he thought about Judaism. Looks like I have some more research to do.

The 11th and 12th century brought us Kings and Queens, of Wales, which the areas they ruled over eventually became part of England. We are the direct line of King Caractacus, in Welsh the name is Caradog, who was captured by the Romans and made such a speech to the Emperor Claudius that he spared him from a military execution. I guess that explains where my powers of persuasion and long windedness come from!

I have only researched the paternal line so far. I’m having some issues with trying to find Addie’s maiden name (my father’s mother) but I will keep going till I find that one little piece of information. I am anxious to see what I find in the other parts of my history. So far, it’s been Jews who escaped the Holocaust who had a penchant for playing German beer garden and Yiddish music who fell away from Judaism and married outside the faith, an Irish grandmother who fell out of a car drunk and died whose sister was a champion Irish dancer, a father who wrote poetry and was a ballroom dancer, British scientists, and Welsh kings and queens. It has been quite and adventure and I am so ready for more. I now know where all the key elements of my personality came from, musician, dancer, writer, thinker, creator, my sensitivity, my intellect, my intense interest in religion. It’s all there in my family line. Like someone once said to me, “you’re like Prego spaghetti sauce, it’s in there”. In not wanting to have a relationship with me, my birth mother has no idea what she’s missing.

Daddy, I love you, and even though we’ve never met, I miss you. I honor your service to our country and I will be there tomorrow, putting flowers on your grave and saying hello. Where ever you are, I know you are looking down on me, respecting my tenacity, loving the fact that after all these years, I finally found you.

Love, your Daughter
Kathleen Bernadette Aufrecht Newton

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