How Mexican are YOU?

[DianaCox]

Very interesting. However, at least in my case, my parents met and married 16 days later, on September 30, 1952. They married on Dad’s way to the airport to fly to CA for his assignment at the Army Language School in Monterey. Mom has to stay in Brooklyn for another month until she saved enough money for the flight and Dad got an apartment. So they got together in early November. I was conceived almost immediately (I was due at the end of July but was 3 weeks late). And I look like both parents.

I’m going to keep looking - I assume as more DNA gets into the database, the answer will emerge.

 

[Spiky Bugger]

Very interesting. However, at least in my case, my parents met and married 16 days later, on September 30, 1952. They married on Dad’s way to the airport to fly to CA for his assignment at the Army Language School in Monterey. Mom has to stay in Brooklyn for another month until she saved enough money for the flight and Dad got an apartment. So they got together in early November. I was conceived almost immediately (I was due at the end of July but was 3 weeks late). And I look like both parents.

I’m going to keep looking - I assume as more DNA gets into the database, the answer will emerge.

We married 15 days after we met...at that same, but name changed, Defense Language Institute in Monterey.

But now we have a REAL DNA issue. The 55% Ashkenazi Jew cousin and I (and my sister and so on) have NOT been matched by ancestry.com. We are supposed to have one common ancestor, our bio grandfather.

If the analysis is correct, hmmm:
-Maybe my goofy grandfather is not REALLY my mother’s father. My maternal grandmother had “a thing on the side?” There was no physical resemblance between father and daughter.
-Or...my goofy grandfather isn’t really Cindy’s father’s dad. Except that he was practically a CLONE...a resemblance mentioned by family but also by coworkers who didn’t know they were father-son. So that is less likely.
-Or...maybe Cindy’s mom had an interaction with someone not my grandfather’s son?

(I wonder if my 55% Ashkenazi Jew cousin can convince any of her other cousins to spit in a tube.)

I think they all owed us some damned deathbed confessions!