Travels with my DNA ……. history ….. geography …. and a lost Simpson

 When you do family history sooner or later you embrace the DNA test.

Where we woz from

I first began seriously researching the family history almost 20 years ago but only dipped into the DNA search to all things genealogical in December.

My late arrival was partly down to the cost of taking the test, but also a slight mistrust of the process and I suppose a big dollop of old-fashioned scepticism.

The scepticism arose out of that simple observation that I had done pretty well with dusty records and family memorabilia which had brought forth a heap of new ancestors, the uncovering of several mysteries, more than a few “lost relatives” and a whole new field of historical research.

That new field was the study of British Home Children who were those young people migrated to Canada and other parts of the old British Empire from Poor Law Unions and children’s charities.

And from there I explored one of Manchester children’s charity which in turn led to writing a book on its history.

But one of my Canadian cousins was keen for me to join her in the DNA journey and it has been interesting.

It confirmed that I am a Celt, with origins starting in the Highlands and Central Scotland and moving by degree into the Northeast of England which came from my father and the Midlands courtesy of mum.

Along the way it minimized the German side of the family and trashed the notion that a bit of us had originated on the sub-continent.

George Bradford Simpson, circa 1918

So pretty much as the census records and family tradition had already established.

Of course, there is also the opportunity to connect with others as Ancestry offers up possible relatives with matching DNA and in following up the connections have found some with elements of their family tree, replicating mine.

And then there was a suggested link to a  lost “first cousin once removed or half first cousin”.  Now technically he wasn’t lost.  I knew of his existence but had never spoken to him or even where he lived.

As you do, I reached out and yes, he is the son of my cousin Mary which has been a pleasant surprise to both my sisters and my kids.

Willian Ferguson Fergus Simpson, circa 1914

At which point I could launch into a detailed description of how that DNA test is reflected in my own research, the stories from my parents and uncles along with a treasured family tree produced by Uncle Fergus and shared with me and my “first cousin once removed”.  But I won’t.  One person’s fascinating family story is another person’s yawn.

Instead, I reflect that the DNA test has confirmed what I already knew about where we came from, making me one of those indigenous peoples who were here in these islands before the Romans and those upstart Anglo Saxons.

To which some in England will mutter “go back to your ancestral home”, which would be both prejudiced and unfair given that the maternal side of me has strong connections with both the west and east Midlands.

In time the journey back to Germany via my German grandmother may offer new sides to the family.

But for now I shall close with the knowledge that Marisa one of my Canadian cousins will be pleased that I have finally taken up her suggestion to “do the test Andrew”   and have shared with my kids and sisters the slightly odd, bizarre and maybe misleading “94 traits” which are most likely or unlikely to be in my make up.  Some are laughable and don’t match us, but alas male hair loss seems to fit the bill, to which one of my son’s replied “thanks dad something to look forward to”.

To which the only answer might be "its in the DNA, next July we'll reveal  it all"*

Location; in the Ancestry DNA lab

Pictures; confirmation by map of our Celtic origins, courtesy of Ancestry, Uncle George in the uniform of the Black Watch circa 1918, and Uncle Fergus in the uniform of the Black Watch, circa 1914

*"Have you heard it's in the stars

Next July we collide with Mars" .... Well, Did You Evah, Cole Porter, 1939

or with a nod to Julius Caesar "The fault, dear Brutus, is not in the stars,

But in ourselves..."   Julius Caesar  Act 1 Scene 2 William Shakespeare 1599