Update on this story: December 2009, we think we have found this man, but if it is him, then it turns out that he passed away in 2007. I’ll leave his story up, just because it’s still an interesting story.

This is probably going to be a strange read, because it feels so strange to actually write it. And here is the real kicker: it’s a story about a man that I never knew. And it’s a story that is over 57 years old. You see, I am looking for the man in this photograph.

A picture of my grandfather?

Supposedly, he is my grandfather. My dad didn’t find out that his real last name was Edwards until he was a senior in high school. He needed his birth certificate to apply for a driver’s license. Can you imagine what that would be like? Little explanation was given before my Grandmother, Mary Ellen, passed away. Dad never really even mentioned it as I was growing up. I remember being about twelve the first time I heard about it. He sounded sad, when he told the story as he knew it. I made an effort one day to look up my family ancestry on ancestry.com.
I knew his name: Ralph Edwards.  Am I afraid to actually include his last name in this post? Yes, for two reasons. Number one, there are some weird crazy people out there on the internet, you know. And Number two, I have no idea of any concrete details of the story, except for the one’s in the preceding paragraph. So, there’s your disclaimer: I have no idea really what happened. The saddest part is, I probably will never know. Unless, I’ll get to ask him about it in the afterlife.  It can be quite the flaw to be the optimist, and the truth probably is more bleak than I want to believe.  But, I’d still like to know what the story is. Wouldn’t you?  So here goes, the third hand fragments of the details that may be true, may not be true, or even remembered correctly:

Their wedding photo?

My grandparents, “Ralph” and Mary Ellen , married too quickly and too young (I mean look at the picture! They look like kids right?) The divorce followed just as quickly. In fact, this was the first of three marriages that ended in divorce for my Grandma Mary. I guess she never found her true love. Anyways, this Ralph fellow was in the service (Army, I think? Maybe you can tell by military uniform in picture?), and one day he just went home to Scranton Pennsylvania. – This was the only thing my Grandma Mary would tell my dad about it. The story told by my great grandmother, Dorothy, was that he left because his mother (who would have been my other great grandmother, right?) had a job for him driving a brand new “rig”? My dad’s grandad (my great grandfather who lived in Greenville, PA until he passed away before I was born) would only say that he had liked the boy (meaning Ralph). And great granddad loved his daughter (my Grandma Mary) to pieces. I don’t see how he could have said he liked the boy when he supposedly left my grandma, without some real explanation.

And that’s it, that’s all I know. See what I mean? There has to be more to this story! I can’t imagine that this Ralph would have been a bad, neglectful man. There is nothing uncaring about my dad, he’d give anyone anything if he they needed it. I can’t believe it to be possible for my dad to have come from a man who just didn’t care. Did this Ralph Edwards on my dad’s birth record ever even know of him at all? What happened to him? What does he look like now? Does he have anything of genetic importance we (or his great grandkids) should know that runs in our family? Is he even alive? I wish I knew. And if it turns out to be a to be a terrible story, then maybe my dad wasn’t ever meant to know. I really think he deserves to know though. This a glimmer of curiosity has appeared in his eyes the few times he has spoken of his real father. My aunt (dad’s half sister) dug up the photograph of Ralph and Mary Ellen above. It does look like a wedding photograph. But who knows anything? Maybe it will always be a mystery.

So in conclusion, I must thank you for reading my long, awkward story. Even though once again I admit being painfully optimistic, I do realize it could be a terrible idea to even pursue the truth. He may not want to be found. He may have a family somewhere else. It’s possible that he doesn’t know about my dad. It’s possible he does. But seriously, ask yourself, if you were me. . . would you at least try?  For your dad? If you think you know anything about this man at all, could you find it in your heart to just consider sending me a message? Who is he? Who was he?

moved from: hindsightblind.wordpress.com