#18 Beyond the DNA Spiral: Who’s Just Outside Radar Range?

Remember that last installment where I said this story was reminiscent of South Pacific The Musical? Turns out it’s got enough twists to make even Rodgers and Hammerstein do a double take.

South Pacific actually had a message. One that had nothing to do with hair shampoo or cross dressing stage shows. South Pacific was about acceptance.

Imagine waking up one day and learning you have a sister you never knew existed. That’s exactly what happened when Kendrea reached out to her aunt—Denise’s sister. A sister who, until now, had no idea Denise even walked this earth. Shock? Understatement. But now, they’re in constant contact, trying to untangle a family thread they never knew was loose

Denise’s father is not a fan of this recent turn of events. (One more musical reference, then I’ll quit.)

 "You've got to be carefully taught..."

Denise hasn’t taken the test herself yet. Technically, she doesn’t need to. Her daughter’s DNA already proved the connection. But for me, the questions don’t stop there. What about the others? Who else is out there, drifting along the DNA spiral, just beyond radar range? What if they’re like me—pulled by an invisible thread, unable to ignore the questions? Maybe they simply want to know if their own Enigmatic Uncle Bill has a blip out there?

Using a DNA test feels almost like cheating. After spending so much time and effort trying to find relatives of some of the ‘kids’ who were left behind and thinking I’ve identified them, a DNA test seems too easy. However, I have this persistent feeling that I want to validate the research I’ve done so far. For example, when considering a random child from San Salvador: Did Angela’s father’s last name end with ‘in,’ or is it ‘yn’ as I suspected? Did he really pass away in 1999? Is the person I found her brother? I want to know if I got it right.

My own DNA test – the one I took a few years ago – was through 23andme. At the time I had glanced at the results. They revealed I was a bit of a Neanderthal and that I was related to thousands of people, none of whom stood out. None of these people were weird enough to have a red alert button saying “Serial killer!” or “long lost sibling!” I gave the results a cursory glance, then closed the window. Eventually I tried to access my 23andme account again, but the site had lost my information. There’d been some sort of major security breech. I blew it off.

Now, however, I’m pimpin’ DNA kits to everyone, but I don’t have results myself. This discrepancy must be reconciled. That ancestry site had a major sale on DNA kits and I’m a sucker for a deal. I bought a short stack. Let’s do this thing.

DNA kit packaging. — *First off, the packaging screams ‘feminine hygiene product’ more than ‘life-altering family revelation.’ Not exactly the branding I expected for something that might tell me Who’s Yo Daddy.*

I decided to dress for the occasion.

Me, wearing a sequin gown and looking at my DNA test kit. — *What’s the deal with the giant funnel on top?*

Me, spitting at the test tube. — *Oh shit! I’ve got to spit INTO it not AT it.*

Trigger warning; If body fluids give you a gag reflex, don’t look at this collage:

A photo of my completed test kit. — *Got ‘er done. I think I got some lipstick in there too.*

My kit is in transit to the lab.

You knew it was coming, right? I’m going back to San Salvador. I also have Mayaguana on my radar. (See the pun there? “Radar”… tracking station humor.)

A night scene with men standing in front of a 1950's era building. Flames light the scene on the left side of the image. The sky is black.

Re-creating Bill’s photos on Mayaguana will be another exciting challenge. Lighting fireworks in front of some old military buildings at night. (I think that’s what’s going on here?)