My paternal side

This genealogical cul de sac is more than made up for by the generosity, expertise and commitment of the cousins on my father’s side of the family. They have been supportive and included me in the family I never knew I had. Before she died in 2020 aged 91, my oldest living relative and I spoke on the phone for over three hours about my father (her uncle) and her father (my uncle). My father was her favorite uncle and she had been with him in the hospital and on the day he died in 1974. Had I known back then what I do now I could have met him and let him know he had a son.

He and his wife had been injured in a car crash caused by a drunk driver. She’d died soon afterwards but my father had died later of complications caused by his injuries.

We’d exchanged many photos and one of the photos of me I’d emailed to my cousin had been sent to another cousin who was also a genealogist whose mother was my elderly second cousin on my father’s side. I was told that my second cousin walked into the room where her daughter does her genealogical work and saw my photo on her computer monitor. She said something like, “Oh … what a nice photo of Lacey. I’ve never seen that before.” From then on it was accepted as gospel that I was Lacey Little McKenzie’s son and that my existence had been hidden from him as well.

Me at around 20 and my father Lacey Little McKenzie aged in his 50s
after being appointed as a country judge in Nawata, Oklahoma.

Before her death my late first-cousin Marylen sent me a big, sturdy envelop containing a 16 page handwritten letter along with a number of photographs and scans that showed my father, his siblings and the historic home built by our Scottish ancestors who’d escaped from the Highlands to find new lives in what would become North Carolina. I won’t to do this now but I’ll include some of those documents, scans and photos when I do.

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