The story started earlier this year. It was a typical January day in Palm Desert, California. The sky was awash in sunshine and the Santa Ana winds were beginning to make their presence known. I was self congratulatory about completing my early morning online workout that emphasized balance and strength, and I was contemplating the agenda for the rest of the day. My iPhone rang on FaceTime video and I saw my sister, Margaret Ann’s picture appear. My two sisters (Margaret- Ann and Gail) and I are in regular contact so it was absolutely normal to hear from Margie. Little did I suspect that the ordinary was about to become the extraordinary! What my youngest sister shared with me changed our family forever. It is rooted in a family joke that morphed into a family gift.
Our Gillis family gatherings are generally raucous and accentuated by by generous portions of wine, Canadian beer and the freshest, crustiest bread we can find. The five of us have traded family folklore and try our best to outdo each other with who has the most colourful childhood stories. Often during these gatherings we share a standing joke. It goes like this: “We likely have a sibling somewhere in or around Italy!” There is laughter all around. We guess that in some quaint town there lives a sibling fathered by my dad during his time at the Battle of Ortona in Italy.
Here is the background to the longstanding joke that became a proven reality.
In 1939 my twenty one year old father, Alec Gillis, “rode the rails” to Alberta looking for work. When war was declared in Europe, long before he knew my mother, he enlisted in the Canadian army. Initially he was stationed in London where he served as an M P and a military dispatcher. We have a classic picture of him (on the left) in Trafalgar Square with his cousin, both proudly wearing Canadian army uniforms. The two are beaming their youthful smiles while holding out their hands feeding pigeons. We have lovingly imagined dad racing around London and environs on his motorcycle perhaps attending the local dances we have heard were part of that wartime scene. But for some reason as we understand it, Dad chose to volunteer to join the on the ground fighting.
AJ, as he was nicknamed, went on to serve in North Africa where he contracted malaria . That disease haunted him throughout his life and manifested in him awakening in the night to sweats and uncontrollable shaking. He then was ordered to Italy where he fought in what was probably the bloodiest of WWII battles: The Battle of Ortona. He was one of a very few brave Canadians who survived the December combat. Dad didn’t share much about that engagement nor for that matter did he share stories about any of his time overseas. He had his reasons.
So our conjecture about a possible sister or brother had no foundation in anything our father ever said. But if there where such a brother or sister he/she would be older than any of us and would likely live close to Ortona. Or so we thought!
My sister’s astonishing call to me came after a shared dinner in Toronto with my dad’s youngest brother, my favorite uncle, Jim, his wife Peggy and two of my cousins. The conversation began easily, trading pleasantries and reminiscing. Then the bombshell announcement! “You two have a half brother who lives in England.”
In the vast realm of genealogy, there are countless stories waiting to be discovered. For my family, at least 3 separate genealogy searches resulted in an extraordinary journey that ended in finding our long-lost brother whose fate was intertwined with a WWII Canadian soldier: my father.
It seems it all started with a confluence of simple curiosity and a drive to uncover familial roots.
As it turns out, my cousin, another distant cousin and my son Matthew entered their DNA into Ancestry.com. So did another fellow, named Peter, who is nicknamed Sam. When Sam turned 80, his daughter Sharon bought him the ancestry kit as a special a birthday gift and sent his information off for analysis. What he eventually discovered was my father and the five of us!
It didn’t take long for my siblings and I to try connect with our brother who had grown up unaware of his biological parentage. We began with a Zoom call with Sharon, Peter’s lovely blonde, adult daughter who is my new found niece. How strange it seemed to share all our stories with our niece who of course, had a British accent!
Through that call we learned that Sam was born in England in 1942. His mother was unwed and he was adopted by the midwife who delivered him. He never knew his natural father or mother and was always interested in his biological roots.
Coincidently, my two sons, Noah and Matthew and I, had planned a visit to London in late May just a few months after learning about Sam. Who would have dreamt that trip would be a perfect conduit to a family reunion that was nothing short of remarkable! We reached out to my new found brother through Sharon and asked if it might be possible to meet in person. We discovered that Sam, his wife Cynthia and Sharon all live close to Wolverhampton which is a short train ride from London. We got the go-ahead! We had a plan! Noah, Matthew and I were heading to Wolverhampton.
I cannot underestimate the tenacity of my siblings. This reunion did not disappoint. Think domino effect! As the time for the reunion drew closer I mentioned to Margaret Ann that she and Gail might want to join the adventure. After a brief hesitation, Margaret was on. Gail quickly followed suit. I promised them a room in the London hotel I had booked. Although we never knew the acronym FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out) it seems it is also a part of our family DNA. It didn’t take long for brothers, Hugh and Doug to put their hands up to come on board.
On a warm and sunny day in late May the seven of us took the early morning train to meet our brother Sam and his family. The Wolverhampton reunion was beyond incredible. Connecting with Sam and his family was emotional and filled with a sense of belonging that words cannot adequately describe. We shared our personal stories and told Sam what we had learned about AJ’s war experiences. We brought him Dad’s war medals which seemed extremely meaningful to him. It seemed natural that Dad’s son who was born in WWII should have his medals. It was an afternoon filled with joy and gratitude, and a sense of belonging that words cannot adequately describe.
In the vast realm of genealogy, there are countless stories of families uncovering hidden secrets and long-lost relatives. Our family experienced one such extraordinary journey, as we stumbled upon a brother we never knew existed. Through the wonders of modern technology we were able to connect the dots and reunite with our brother, who was the son of our father, born during his service in World War II for Canada. This unexpected revelation has brought immense joy, love, and a renewed sense of belonging to our family.
Since our reunion, our family has been on an incredible journey of building new bonds and creating cherished memories. We have embraced our newfound brother with open arms and he us. We are all eager to make up for the lost time.
Our family was astounded how much Sam resembles our dad. We didn’t need a DNA test to affirm that he is our brother. Dad and Sam had more than good looks in common. Both were electricians, both loved to dance, and both were involved in boxing.
Our story is a testament to the power of technology and the role it plays in connecting families across time and distance. Although there are other genealogical apps, it was Ancestry.com that provided us with the tools and resources to uncover a hidden chapter of our family’s history, bringing us closer together in ways we never thought possible.
Discovering a long-lost brother has been a life-altering experience for our family. It has taught us the importance of embracing our past, cherishing our present, and building a future together. We are grateful to have uncovered this remarkable story, reuniting us with a brother we never knew we had. Our journey continues, filled with love, laughter, and the shared bond of a family made whole once again.
Let me share a bit of levity connected to all of this. My younger brother Doug pointed out that I am no longer the oldest child in the family. He was smug in declaring he will always be the youngest. My response? Don’t count on it!
