I knew that my maternal grandmother, Irene Hropovich, had divorced my grandfather when my mother was only a baby. For most of my life, I did not even know this man's name. It was a topic that was not discussed in my family. All I knew is that he was an alcoholic who, after the divorce, moved to New York and died sometime in the 1970s.
Research on my family tree, however, began opening doors that had been shut by vague answers for decades. I learned his name was Louis Wildner, not "Lewis" as I had believed. I learned the name of both his parents and that his family had immigrated from near the border of Germany and Austria (they list both locations on various documents).
Last week I came across the death certificate of my great grandfather, also named Louis Wildner, and learned that he had died about a year after I was born. I also learned he had lived in Johnstown, PA, the same town in which I was raised. Then I located the obituary from my great grandmother. And my heart sank.
She too had lived in Johnstown. And she had died in 1984 when I was in college.
My great grandmother had lived in my hometown and died when I was 19 years old. And I never even knew her name.
Over the years, I heard very little about my grandfather, although family members would let small details slip through now and again. The only mention my grandmother ever made of her ex-husband in my presence was a comment that he stole her wedding rings and sold them, presumably for alcohol. And another relative once let slip that when my grandfather Louis had passed away in 1970, New York authorities tracked down my mother several years later to give her his insurance money, as she was his only heir.
The discovery of the missing branch of my family tree has not given me any true answers, only more questions. What happened between my grandparents that was so awful that his name was never even spoken within the family? And why had his family, who must have known the whereabouts of my mother and that she had a family of her own, never even attempted to make contact with us, especially after my own father died in 1977? Or even when we became adults?
This is a mystery which I am looking to solve. The only problem is, most of the individuals with direct knowledge of the story are long gone. And my mother over the years has revealed very little about her own father. The only time I heard her volunteer anything about him was when she told me that he apparently used to write her letters when she was a little girl, but her mother would intercept them and burn them. As to how she found this out, I have no idea. She has otherwise been reluctant to talk about this branch of her family. Either she truly does not know, or simply does not care to find out.
My only recourse is to go to those who are living--siblings, aunts and even my mother herself--to try and construct the story. These are the branches that remain of the family tree through which I must search. It is the beginning of the story, and I hope I will be able to find an ending that will at least answer the questions of why this particular branch has been completely severed. It's a journey I hope to chronicle here.
When shaking up your family tree, you may be surprised what falls out.
