With a lifted gaze, Craig ONeal scanned the sluggish Florida sky. Raindrops fell intermittently, hardly prompting drivers to flick on windshield wipers as they rolled past the corner Starbucks. But the pitter-patter was noticeable enough, so he grabbed his coffee and shifted beneath an awning. <\/p>\n
The overcast day rife with the kind of midweek weariness best cured with espresso tinged ONeals eyes slate gray. They were eyes that, on a bright day, were blue and shaded with green. They were small and intense, peering through black-rimmed glasses. They were the kind of eyes that could simultaneously lock in conversation and absorb minute, fleeting details. <\/p>\n
They werent the eyes he shared with his adopted parents or his three sisters. Until recently, the 62-year-old Ponte Vedra Beach resident and freelance photographer hadnt imagined sharing similar features with anyone. <\/p>\n
I knew I was adopted from a very early age, ONeal said. I never really had an overwhelming urge to track down my biological parents. <\/p>\n
But late last year, ONeal was sitting with his wife in front of the television and a commercial touting Ancestrys DNA testing tweaked his curiosity. <\/p>\n
I just made a quick passing statement to my wife, like Hey, it would be interesting to see what percentage of Irish or European I am, he said. It was a conversation of a few seconds, but she grabbed onto it and got me the kit for Christmas. <\/p>\n
The test was simple enough. He swabbed his mouth, shipped the sample to Ancestrys lab and waited eight weeks for the results. When they came in, he eagerly logged into his profile to view his genetic makeup. <\/p>\n
Just as hed guessed, 30-some percent of his DNA was Irish. <\/p>\n
But what he didnt expect were links to immediate relatives. Two, in fact. <\/p>\n
Ancestry will show who youre related to as long as they have also submitted their DNA, ONeal said. My top two hits were a woman named Gloria Smith and a man named Stephen Franks. It said we were first cousins. <\/p>\n
ONeal spent the next several hours researching contact methods, knowing the interaction could unearth conflict. <\/p>\n
When I started researching the best practices about how to contact someone in this situation, there were more stories of rejection than acceptance, he said. I thought, hey, they could tell me to go away for a whole host of stuff. <\/p>\n
Two days after ONeal initiated contact through the Ancestry platform, Gloria Smith responded. <\/p>\n
She said, Theres no way you can be my first cousin. <\/p>\n
QUESTIONS, ANSWERS AND ACCEPTANCE <\/p>\n
The words on Gloria Smiths computer screen didnt make sense. Her gray-blue eyes read the message once, and then again, and then again. It was late on a Saturday evening in Booneville, Mississippi, and Sunday school lingered hours away. She picked up the phone and dialed Ancestry. <\/p>\n
She explained the situation to a staff member, who agreed to review the DNA. There just wasnt any way, Smith insisted, Craig ONeal could be a cousin. <\/p>\n
I know all of my first cousins, she said. I know all of my second and third cousins. <\/p>\n
Smith knows around 1,500 of her relatives, to be precise. A librarian by interest and education, shes the keeper of her familys genealogy. Her brother, Steve, joined Ancestry only to further her bloodline research. <\/p>\n
By midnight, scientists presented Smith with a trio of options: ONeal could be her grandfather, her uncle, or her half-sibling. <\/p>\n
I can do the math, she said, laughing. Theres no way he could be my grandfather or uncle. <\/p>\n
Smith skipped church Sunday morning to make a final call to Ancestry. The staff agreed only one option seemed likely ONeal was a half-sibling from her paternal side. She broke the news to Steve, who lives just outside of Dallas. <\/p>\n
I told him, Hes daddys child and I want to know him, she said. <\/p>\n
She messaged ONeal on Facebook that afternoon, explaining her research. <\/p>\n
I still remember seeing those little dots come up as he typed, Are you trying to tell me Im a half-sibling? she said. It gives me chills. Its the strangest feeling to be this old and have three siblings and then find out, at this age, you have another brother. <\/p>\n
ITS JUST SOMETHING THAT HAPPENED <\/p>\n
Make mental notes, pay attention to details, ONeal reminded himself. The 10-hour drive to Mississippi, where he would meet his four siblings for the first time, was enough time to compile a list of questions hed always wanted to ask. <\/p>\n
The group agreed to meet at a restaurant just outside of Booneville. <\/p>\n
As the siblings locked eyes with their half-brother, the doubt and anticipation peeled away. <\/p>\n
Craig looked more like daddy than any of us, Smith said. The shape of his face, his nose, his eyes, the way he moves. <\/p>\n
Franks agreed. <\/p>\n
The first thing I noticed were his blue eyes, he said. <\/p>\n
They were the eyes of Jesse Franks, their father. <\/p>\n
Finally, ONeal was face-to-face with a concept foreign blood relatives. <\/p>\n
When I met them, it was incredible to see people who looked like me, who had mannerisms like me, ONeal said. <\/p>\n
As the weekend unfolded, the siblings combed their childhood stomping grounds, cramming ONeal with family information and history. He visited the grave of his father and other relatives. He stood beneath a sign reading Frankstown, the small community established by his great-grandparents. He ate catfish at a Booneville buffet. <\/p>\n
It was just like going home all over again, but with a new brother, Smith said. <\/p>\n
The siblings speculate their father, working for the Tennessee Valley Authority, met ONeals mother while traveling for work. Whether he knew of ONeal remains a mystery. Jesse Franks, loving father and husband of 50 years, died in 1987, taking his secrets with him. <\/p>\n
Obviously, this doesnt reflect well on our father, Steve Franks said. There was some concern about what people in this little town would think. But weve just come to the conclusion it is what it is, people can make what they want out of it. Craig is our brother, and were not ashamed of that. <\/p>\n
At any rate, the past is long gone, ONeal said. <\/p>\n
I dont think this alters the way they think about their parents, he said. Who knows what happens in a persons life? Its not up to me to pass judgment. Its just something that happened. <\/p>\n
The siblings gifted ONeal with a handmade book on their father, pages brimming with neat handwriting, detailed memories and gray photos reflecting father and half-son similarities. <\/p>\n
Now I can see into my father. I can see into his soul. I can see into his head, he said. I can see what he actually said, not just what someone has told me. <\/p>\n
LIVING WITH THE UNEXPECTED <\/p>\n
Life was good before, despite not knowing. <\/p>\n
I had great parents and great-grandparents, ONeal said. I would never not want to have lived that. <\/p>\n
Life is even better knowing the mannerisms, the way he smiles, the color of his eyes; it all has a name now Franks. <\/p>\n
Hes waiting on his adoption records from Tennessee, which will reveal his mothers name as well as more information on his father. He shrugs away trepidation, saying fear and worry are emotions hes learned to control. <\/p>\n
My mother could still be alive. I could have a whole other family in Tennessee, he said. <\/p>\n
Whatever happens, he wants to nurture the bond between himself and his current half-siblings. <\/p>\n
I want this to be a really good relationship. I want to build a family relationship, and I know its difficult because were hundreds of miles away from each other, he said. But theres an opportunity. <\/p>\n
Things will never be the same, but thats a good thing. <\/p>\n
This is a life-changing experience, he said. I can never go back. <\/p>\n
Read this St. Augustine Record story. <\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
See original here: With a lifted gaze, Craig ONeal scanned the sluggish Florida sky. Raindrops fell intermittently, hardly prompting drivers to flick on windshield wipers as they rolled past the corner Starbucks Continue reading
\nDNA test uncovers a treasure trove of information for a Ponte Vedra ... - Florida Times-Union<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"