DNA results are in and I am a mongrel like any other human being

My uncle and World War II hero B.J. Murano, Uncle Rocky and his wife, Helen and B.J.'s wife, Eddie.

My father, Big Al, (left) and my mom, Louise (red shirt) and our neighbor Maureen at a Columbus Day Parade in Revere, Mass.

My father, my son and I stand during a Columbus Day Parade in Revere, Mass., back in 1997.

A proud father with his daughter and son in 1962.

“There is no king who has not had a slave among his ancestors, and no slave who has not had a king among his.”    

                   — Helen Keller

“If you want to understand today, you have to search yesterday.” 

— Pearl S. Buck

                                                                                                     

“We all grow up with the weight of history on us. Our ancestors dwell in attics of our brains, as they do in the spiraling chains of knowledge hidden in every cell of our bodies.”

— Shirley Abbott

AUBURN, Maine — After receiving my DNA results from ancestry.com, my perspicacious son, Anthony, pointed out that all my ancestors exist in my spit that was just tested in a lab.

To me, it was a profound statement from my son. He continues to meticulously chart our family tree and has given me a new appreciation of who I am and how I got here.

When we look back at our biological history, I think we forget that humanity is composite of our ancestors who have given us life — and their traits — for better or worse. 

Evolution (only science works for me) has been kind to us — for the moment.

The saliva test was a Christmas gift from Anthony and it really is the gift that keeps on giving. I found there is an endless parade of fourth and fifth cousins out there and some have contacted me. My son has taken his quest further and reached out to living relatives around the globe.

We are all probably related (although we don’t like to admit it), but these conclusive results haven’t stopped us from killing each other over ancient hatreds, race and pride.

When the findings arrived, Anthony and I reviewed the breakdown of who I am and we found our ancestors come from all over Europe, the Caucuses and the Middle East.

According to Ancestry’s ethnicity estimate, my ancestors are from these regions:

Europe South 50 percent (no surprise there)

Southern Italy

From your regions: Caucasus, Europe South, Middle East

Europe West 24 percent

Caucasus 15 percent

Low Confidence Regions

Great Britain 4 percent

Middle East 2 percent

Scandinavia 2 percent

Finland/Northwest Russia < 1 percent

Ireland/Scotland/Wales < 1 percent

Iberian Peninsula < 1 percent

My ancestors’s biology is tucked away deep inside my DNA. Take the test and you will find we are all mongrels and the thought of being a purebred is absurd.

The DNA results arrived in time for the holidays, which can be a painful time of year for those who continue to grieve for lost loved ones.

I miss my parents and Christmas isn’t the same without them. I was raised on a street where nearly dozen Italian relatives lived and all had a hand in my upbringing. But their life force still courses through my veins and they will be with me this holiday and for all eternity.

Exchanging spirits and cooking enough food to feed a battalion of hungry soldiers was just a few ways my family celebrated the Yuletide. It was a two-day event on McClure Street and it featured a Christmas Eve supper with super-sized servings of fish, and for an encore, there was an afternoon Christmas meal featuring pasta, ham and turkey. You didn’t eat for days after gorging yourself in the afterglow of the holidays. 

But my neighborhood is filled with new faces, and those people I loved and cherished, are now wonderful memories of my past. The holidays resurrect those fond recollections and are a source of joy, pride and sadness for me.

But you have only two choices when confronting the holidays and loss: Close the shades in your room and disappear into an abyss of depression — or go forth and enjoy those special moments with your child and wife that only exist for a brief instance in the universe.

It is not a comfort to me and doesn’t ease my grief, but my DNA made me realize that my parents live on inside me. I begrudgingly accept that life is ephemeral, and if you live long enough, your loved ones and close friends fall away like the passing seasons.

But I made a promise to myself to make every day count, including the holidays.

My DNA test also revealed that I am related to England’s King Richard the III and Edward the I, who was also known as Edward Longshanks.

I sometimes feel like a royal, but my throne is a recliner in my parlor. 

I am also grateful to an ancestor, Middlesex County New Jersey Militia Capt. John Payne, who squared off against King George’s Redcoats. Anthony’s careful research of Payne led to our admittance to the Sons of American Revolution this year. He also went on to prove through our DNA that we are indeed related to Payne.

So I will raise a toast to my ancestors and my family and enjoy another Christmas with all of them.

A family tree grows in Auburn

AMERICA'S PASTIME: My father, Al Blasi, at around nine years old. He was already smitten with baseball, and it explains why he became a baseball coach for over 40 years at Revere High School.

ALL IN THE FAMILY: My father Al, lower right, with his family: His dad, Anthony Sr., his mom, Anne, his sister, Rita, and big brother, Rocco.

THOSE WERE THE DAYS: My mother, Louise with her family: Mom Josephine, brother Wesley, sisters Carol and Nellie.

"We all grow up with the weight of history on us.  Our ancestors dwell in the attics of our brains as they do in the spiraling chains of knowledge hidden in every cell of our bodies."  

~Shirley Abbott

AUBURN, Maine — Anthony would have been held incommunicado in my mother's kitchen if Louise witnessed how swift my son traced our family's ancestry using a reliable laptop, two impressive libraries and a great deal of patience and tenacity.

Anthony raced through centuries of history with the push of a button. He was like curious time traveler Rod Taylor in the 1960 movie version of H.G. Wells' "Time Machine" While Taylor watched eons pass before him outside his laboratory windows with a nudge of a lever, Anthony observed dozens of our decedents' names appear on a computer screen.

His arduous journey began when he started reading about the Davis family and our connection to the American Revolution on my mother's side. My mom's clan was a seafaring bunch who came over from Scotland and then eventually took on King George in America. The other side is Italian, and my heritage on my dad's side explains why I am excellent cook. I will take anyone on the kitchen and win each battle with my culinary delights.

For most of his school vacation, my son plowed through Ancestry.com to research our lineage. Centuries flew by on the computer as our family tree grew like the 40-foot pine in our front yard.

He spent days meticulously connecting the forgotten dots of time. He began with my wife's family and then moved on to his dad's ancestors without showing any signs of exasperation. Obstacles or detours didn't stop him from conducting his research. When the road narrowed and leads dried up, Anthony switched direction and found a new path into our ancient past.

If my late mother saw how easy it is to trace your roots using the Net, Anthony would have become his grandmother's hero. She was a proud member of the Daughters of the American Revolution. Her ancestry and love of this nation's history made her a living reference for all of us. 

My son is now obsessed to see how far his quest will take him inside recorded history. He persuaded me to pay for another month of Ancestry.com's time-traveling, technological wizardry. The site is like a wormhole, a shortcut if you will, through the ages.

After facing several road blocks tracing the origins of the Blasi family, he moved on to the Davis family tree with significant results.

First and foremost, I am from nobility. You could say I am related to England's modern-day royalty, so bow the next time you see me. Of course, a handshake will do, too. I've inherited my love of gardening from the Royals, and I bet Prince Charles and I could go round and round about raising a bumper crop.

Anthony's startling discoveries include: 

* I am a first cousin, 13 times removed to Sir Francis Drake — An English vice admiral, privateer and navigator during the Elizabethan era.

* I am a second cousin, 12 times removed to Richard Grenville of the of the H.M.S. Revenge, 

* My 13th great grandfather was Roger Granville, who was captain of the H.M.S. Mary Rose

* I am first cousin, 18 times removed to Richard the Third — a king of England. His remains were recently discovered underneath a parking lot in Leicester, England.

* My 22nd great grandfather was Edward the First, also known as Edward Longshanks, a medieval monarch and slayer of William Wallace. 

Obviously King Richard and Edward were despots, but they are still part of my heritage, and it is cool to have a few skeletons in the closet.

Anthony also focused on Terri's mother's maiden name — Richardson. He brought to light several startling revelations about my wife's ancestry.

* Terri is the seventh cousin, four times removed to Franklin Delano Roosevelt — the 32nd president of the United States.

* She is the fifth cousin, six times removed to Ulysses S. Grant — the 18th president of the United States.

* She is the sixth cousin, five times removed to Laura Ingalls Wilder — author of the Little House series.

* Her 19th great-grandfather was Louis the Fourth — holy Roman emperor.

In the course of his research, he discovered an obituary of my late uncle — World War II hero Biagio Murano.

Every Christmas, I would visit and share a drink with him. He rarely spoke about his exploits during the war. I guess he had seen enough killing and destruction for both of us. 

According to his obituary, he was a highly decorated war hero who flew missions in the seat of the sluggish B-24 — a bomber that was so difficult to maneuver that pilots would develop huge biceps in their right arms. He participated in the Berlin Airlift and flew 100 missions in a P-51 fighter during the Korean War where he earned the Distinguished Flying Cross. He is also the 254th person in the United States to break the sound barrier in an F-104.

In between his demanding studies and being a member of the ski patrol team, Anthony has unearthed these forgotten tidbits of our family's history. He refuses to stop there and wants to know more about his family's origins.

So do I, and he has taken me there.

But what human being doesn't want to know how their family grew over centuries.

Thanks to technology and libraries, many people are making this quest.

And Anthony is just another pilgrim on a journey to discover his roots.