#17 Lieutenant Cable Syndrome: Love, Loss, and DNA in the Bahamas

The year is 1957. A young man with a camera slings a bag over his shoulder, stepping onto the sun-bleached sand of a remote Bahamian island. The air smells of salt, the ocean shimmers like molten glass, and the occasional chicken wanders past. He raises his camera. “Click.” Somewhere, a Broadway composer sighs -because this scene practically begs for a musical number.

Even though these were taken in the Bahamas – half a world away and on a completely different ocean – they remind me of South Pacific the musical. 

When I look at my uncle’s pictures of his time on the Eastern Range, even though some are black and white, in my mind they explode with color. They may have faded or deteriorated in other ways – perhaps screwed up in the first place? These island photos deserve color. Not simply realistic color but TECHNICOLOR.

"How far are they? Archbold, O H? Cambridge, M A? How far are they?"

Cue the dreamy filter and soft lighting – San Salvador island in the 1950’s was practically a Rodgers and Hammerstein fever dream.

A tropical paradise, a bunch of 20-something men. The work is important, but there’s a lot of down time, and zero access to streaming services. What could possibly go wrong?

"Here am I your special island. Come to me. Come to me."

Just like Lieutenant Cable, these boys were prime to fall in love with an islander.

"Younger than springtime are you..."

They fell in love, they did what people in love do. When their time on the island was up. They left.

I’d heard rumors Bill had a daughter. Granted, the rumors were started by whack-o psychics. But still. Bill’s old friend, Ross Taylor, mentioned it, quoting Bill as saying, “If there are any little kids on the island who look like me, they’re probably mine.” To date, any child Bill might have had remains a mystery.

Denise however is a living, breathing person. Her father was my uncle’s roommate back in 1958. No longer having contact with him, a DNA test appeared to be the only way to allow Denise to communicate with any potential relatives. We came across roadblocks in obtaining a DNA test kit in the Bahamas. I understood Ancestry to only send kits to the US proper.

Getting a package to San Salvador Island in a reasonable amount of time is somewhat daunting. Some islanders use a paid shipping service in Florida to receive packages from the US to be shipped to the Bahamas. Denise has a daughter, Kendrea, who is at university in Canada, and uses such a service.

After much back and forth with Kendrea (who was in the midst of finals week) and the shipping service regarding addresses and invoices and other required paperwork, Denise still hadn’t received her package from me. Anxiety levels weren’t exactly high as I’d gotten good deal on the kit [as is my way] and we both had faith it would eventually make it to its destination. Still unclear was how we would get it back to me.

In the meantime, Denise brought up that there were others on the island who were born to island mothers and foreign fathers. Fathers who were either working for a government contracted company or were stationed on San Salvador through the military. Fathers who left when their time was up.

Maybe I’ll call it Lieutenant Cable Syndrome?

I enjoy following the ancestry clues of anyone who isn’t me. Other peoples’ mysteries are more exciting than my own. Because I’d found Denise’s father, others who were searching thought I might be able to find their fathers. I’m pretty much just a one hit wonder.

"You've got to have a dream. If you don't have a dream, how you gonna have a dream come true?"

At the same time that I received word the kit was leaving the shipping service, headed for San Salvador, Kendrea mentioned to her mom , “Oh yeah, I did one of those tests a few years ago. I forgot about it.”

I’m paraphrasing, ok? I did not hear this conversation as I would’ve immediately said “KIDZEEZDAZE!” Kendrea held the key all along! Kendrea’s DNA results were the only piece needed to connect Denise with her father’s relatives.

Kendrea found her account. Yup. My uncle’s X-roommate is her grandfather. There was disappointment as his record claimed he’d died in the year 2000. I assured her he was alive and well and I had spoken with him recently.

A flurry of excitement followed as Kendrea reached out to her new-found relatives.

"I am like a schoolgirl, waiting for a dance."

Pics Bill took of kids around the islands in the 1950s:

Start at the beginning.