Each one of us has two parents, four grandparents, and eight great-grandparents. For every generation you go back, the number of people who procreated, to eventually make you, doubles.
When I first started out on my genealogy journey, these numbers astounded me, and still do. I love to think about my DNA stew. It feeds my soul.
Playing with numbers
Let’s assume each generation makes a baby at age thirty. Perhaps the age should be 16, 18, 20, or 25, but whatever, I picked 30 for this exercise. After all, in the past, people started having children earlier than today, but they also bore many more children and did so over a period of 10, or even 20, years.
Stick with me for this simplified and fictional example:
For a child born in 1960, there were two parents who were born about 1930. The baby’s four grandparents were born about 1900. The baby’s eight great-grandparents were born in 1870. (You see, I'm doubling the number of grandparents and going back 30 years at the same time. Whee!) Let’s keep going.
This fictional child, born in 1960, would have had:
16 - great-great-grandparents born about 1840
32 - great-great-great-grandparents born in 1810
64 - great-great-great-great-grandparents (this is called 4g-grandparents) born in 1780
128 - 5g-grandparents born in 1750
256 - 6g-grandparents born in 1730
Because the number of grandparents in each generation keeps doubling, it soon gets mind-blowingly huge.
If you go back 19 generations from today, that is, approximately to the year 1470, you have one million (18g) grandparents. Go back one more generation to 1440, and bingo, two million!
Herein lies the problem. Pretty soon you have more grandparents in one generation than the entire population of the earth. And that can’t be. How can we explain this paradox?
The solution, my friends, is taboo. Your ancestors married their cousins.
Acknowledging our duplicates
Consider a village of 200 people in the eastern European countryside (but it could be anywhere in the world). The year is 900. For many generations, no one in this village traveled more than 10 miles from their home, they all married each other. Each of these villagers shared an ancestor.
The duplicates multiply exponentially, thereby exponentially reducing the number of individuals in their tree.
The duplicates multiply exponentially, thereby exponentially reducing the number of individuals in their tree.
Once I realized all this, I was astonished to find duplicates documented in my own family tree, on the Bennett side, during the time of the early British settlement of Chester County
This is the ancestor tree for William Cloud Bennett.
No siblings or cousins, it is all great-grandparents and goes back to the early 1600's.
The blanks are just as important to me as the names.
I put the yard stick on it so you can see how big it is.
This part gets a little spooky
About 15 years ago, I decided to try and find the graves of my eight great-grandparents. But first, I needed to find out their names.
My mother had died in 1996 and I felt very strongly that she was with her parents and grandparents in “heaven.” And not just with them, no, she was with everyone who came before them, back to like actual cavemen (and cave women). My mom linked me to a host, a multitude.
For several months after she died, with every step I took, I felt like I had a crowd with me. Someday I’ll try to expres s this in a piece of art. For now, this Gustave Dore illustration captures what I am describing.
Who are all these people? Well, at the great-grandparent's level, learning their eight names was relatively easy; finding their graves took 14 years. (That's another story.)
On my mother’s side my great-grandparents are:
On my mother’s side my great-grandparents are:
§ Martin Wisneski
§ Antoinette Wacovic
§ Harry Eugene Raser
§ Margaret B. Essick
And on my father’s side:
§ William Cloud Bennett
§ Kate Goucher
§ Charles Groff Yeagley
§ Bertha Smith
Identity
Many people identify themselves with their mother’s family. Others, more so with their father’s. I've always considered myself to be primarily a Bennett. But what percent of me is “Bennett?” Only one-eighth, if I look at it from my great-grandparent's point of view!
Many people identify themselves with their mother’s family. Others, more so with their father’s. I've always considered myself to be primarily a Bennett. But what percent of me is “Bennett?” Only one-eighth, if I look at it from my great-grandparent's point of view!
I am just as much an Essick as a Bennett. Just as much a Yeagley, a Raser, and a Wisneski. I'm a Goucher. I'm a Smith! I am just as much a million surnames I never heard of. And just as much a share of people who didn't even have a surname (Depending on the country, last names were “assigned” during the late middle ages.).
So what I’ve learned is I’m not who I thought I was. I'm more. Who are you? Who is in your family tree?
Comments
Holly
My intuition tells me that you will learn what your name "should" be.
Other thoughts: Last year I got a book from the library about the history of surnames. Interesting stuff! As you may know, not all cultures simply give offspring the father's family name (for example: Mexico). Also, depending on the political climate, people avoided certain surnames (i.e. persecution of the Jews in Europe).