Before the roads, rails and runways, there were the people who made my world what it was. My family roots reach across Europe, but the part I treasure most is the family I was fortunate enough to know.
Apparently Europe was a group project. DNA estimates offer a snapshot of where some of those roots began; the stories are what make them matter.
THE PEOPLE BEHIND THE BRANCHES
The Luckiest Boy Alive
I have always considered myself one of the luckiest boys alive when it came to family.
Growing up, I had something pretty special: three grandmothers. Grandma June, Grandma Dorothy, and Grandma Chris.
And if that wasn't enough, I was fortunate enough to meet six of my great-grandparents:
- Great Grandpa Schuler
- Great Grandma Schuler
- Great Grandpa Copeland
- Great Grandpa Henry Beck
- Great Grandma Lena Beck
- Great Grandma Bonnie Soden
Not everyone gets the opportunity to know so many generations of their family. I was fortunate enough to have those connections, even if I was too young to fully appreciate just how special they were at the time.
Looking back, I realize how fortunate I was. My childhood wasn't just filled with parents and grandparents, but with connections to generations of family who came before me.
Three grandmothers. Six great-grandparents. And more family love than one little boy could ever ask for.
I really was the luckiest boy alive.
SEPTEMBER 19, 1975
My Grand Entrance
I was born on Friday, September 19, 1975, the first child of Robert and Deborah Beck.
My arrival was anything but uneventful. Mom experienced serious complications during childbirth, and while thankfully we both made it through, a rather important message never reached Dad.
Apparently, I was about eight hours old before he learned that I had arrived alive and healthy. The doctor had forgotten to tell him he was the proud father of a bouncing baby boy.
Eight hours old, and I had already caused a medical emergency and a communications breakdown. Not exactly a quiet entrance into the world.
