Anyone who knows me knows I suffer from a pretty acute case of ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder). I’ve been this way all of my life; of course when I was a child they didn’t have a name for it other than to refer to me as “hyper.”
For the most part the disorder serves me well: I am a master multi-tasker and can do several things at once. Sometimes, however, I get so bogged down with my ambition that I don’t do any of things I attempt well. Right now, I have so many ideas floating in my head and have started that I don’t know which one to tackle first.
In addition to writing my memoir, I have for years researched my family tree. This began when I sought information about my mother and father who died when I was a year old. I never knew them personally except on the most basic level as an infant who knew her parents’ voice, smell, and touch. Growing up I heard anecdotes about them but at some point, the stories I was told confused me more than ever. To satisfy my curiosity I went in search of more tangible, fact-based information in the form of documents, pictures, and news articles. I even went outside the family to interview people who knew them as a way for me to discover what my parents were like in life. That initial foray into family history became an obsession for me; once started I couldn’t stop. Since then, I have researched my ancestors and connected the dots from western New York to Italy, Germany, Canada, and the Netherlands. My research becomes so involved I forget to eat, the house gets messy and the work that pays bills gets placed on the back burner until a deadline looms. I’m hooked on genealogy research.
Once ancestor fascinates me because I discovered he was a world traveler, adventurer, humanitarian, and kidnap victim. His name is Charles Oberlander, and he was my paternal great-grandfather. He lived an eventful life until his death after being hit by a bus in Washington, D.C. Before his death he lived in Cuba, advocated on behalf of mistreated Chinese people, and escaped from a Mexican prison. His Mexico imprisonment and eventual escape became an international story and governmental intrigue.
Charles’s father was the Reverend Alexander Oberlander, a prominent citizen of Syracuse, New York and pastor of the Evangelical Lutheran Church. He was one of fourteen children born to the Reverend and his wife Mathilde. His siblings included a doctor, a pastor, and a well-known professional baseball player. It seems that perhaps Charles had a lot to live up to. I’ve only scratched the surface with Charles. This us just the Oberlander branch of my tree. There are others and include the most immediate ancestors: Gioia, Gengo, Wardynski, and Wleklenski. The deeper I dig, the more names and places I uncover.
I haven’t started on my husband’s line yet, but that, too, is an amazing tale. My husband’s ancestor is Charles B. Mecum, one of the survivors of the Death Valley Jayhawkers, those brave souls who traversed the harsh desert landscape and made it out alive back in 1849. He is written about in several books on the subject.
So I parcel out my time, trying to fit in all my responsibilities such as housework, work-work, and this hobby. Thank Goodness I am an ADHD; it’s the only way I can get all of this accomplished.
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