My Diverse Influential Background
or
Barking Up Two Trees
by
David Alan Holding
01 December 1994

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Thesis: Adoption tends to split the continuity of genealogy into an hereditary background and an environment background, splitting the influence of both family histories.

Webster's dictionary states that genealogy is "a record of the descent of a person or family from an ancestor" (Allee 160). Under the circumstances of adoption the records of the family and the descent of a person are of two different pasts: an heredity lineage and an environment lineage. Both lineages may not be equally traceable, providing both lines can be found. As an adopted person, I had two lines of genealogy to trace, which left the question of heredity versus environment to my discretion.

No doubt that there are certain traits or potentials that I received from my genetic family, and there are also important influences that I received from my fraternal family. "Traits that are determined by heredity may be modified by environmental influences during the lifetime" (Morse 333). Heredity influences may account for 20% to 50%, leaving the remaining 50% to 80% to my environment (Plotnik 470). so there were two sources of influences (two family trees) that I had to look at when I considered my background.

The importance of genealogy in past history was used for birthright and inheritance in the bloodline of an ancestor. Genealogy did not come into interest in the United States until the 19th century, when many historical and patriotic societies were formed, mainly to trace family lineage back to members of the Civil War of the American Revolution (Morse 54). some genealogical history was limited to basic relationships (mother, father, and offspring) excluding most all family stories or personal histories, which were usually passed down in diaries or retold by word-of-mouth. My dad, Maurice Holding, took an interest in genealogy after his retirement. Even though he was able to accumulate much information on mom's and his family tree, little information on my family tree was found. I never participated in any of that research; therefore, I never developed an interest in genealogy. After Dad passed away, most of the information was lost to relatives who borrowed it and never returned it before they died, or the information was lost to having been shuffled around the house by the family.

Everything has a starting point; even though the starting point may be obscure, it is the viewpoint of when it is important for the beginning of the story. I chose myself as the starting point for my family tree and the immediate influences of my two family trees (extending only to those family members that I personally have met). As Iphicrates said, "My family history begins with me" (Beck 86).

I could not recall my first recognition of being adopted, other than I was very young. At such a young age, the term "adoption" was nothing more than a word. The recognition of being adopted and being part Indian only became clear when I was older. Mom and Dad had traced my Indian heritage and had encouraged me to get on the Indian rolls to receive privileges. that made me more curious about that unknown background: the Indian part of my life that I was encouraged to recognize without any personal knowledge of its background. So I began to ask more questions as to my real mother and father and to express a desire to meet them. Without such desires fulfilled, I simply refused to believe that such relationships existed; even to this day, I doubt such relationships.

In 1980, after graduation from high school, Mom and Dad agreed to my meeting my mother if I would see a psychologist to determine if I was ready to do so. I received my "okay" to meet my mother, and I did so that year. I met Fran Clark, my mother, along with her sister, my aunt Romona Hiller, one night after I arrived home from work. the situation was unexpected and tense, since neither Fran nor I were warned in advance that the meeting was to take place. the disclosure seemed only to have created problems for that weekend and the future as well.

I learned several things from my acquaintance with this family. One idea I learned was that I was supposedly "dead." The situation around which I was conceived was during an affair. the man, who was my father, went off to Vietnam while my mother got a divorce from her husband, a Seminole named Feather. I was born in the absence of my father. Upon his return from Vietnam, the family reported to him that I died at birth. The only people who knew that I was alive and adopted were Fran and her sister (Fran's mother died the day I was born). So after eighteen years of having been deceased, my resurrection was quite surprising to the family and my existence was unbelievable to my father when he was contacted. the appearance of a half-brother was thrilling to my half-sister, Shielieh, whom I met a little over a year later, when I spent a week in Vernal, Utah, with the family.

I met several members of this family, including some aunts, some uncles, some cousins, and a grandparent. Unfortunately, the grandfather I met, Dan L. Johnson, my mother's dad, was living alone and suffering from extensive cancer. He committed suicide shortly after I met him. Even though members of this family were cordial and polite to me, I never felt any sense of belonging. whether it was the long-term separation of the difference in environmental upbringing, I could not tell, but a sense of alienation seemed to have existed. I did not feel a part of the family at Dan Johnson's funeral, and the fact that parts of Fran's funeral (who died in 1988, from alcoholism) were spoken in the Seminole language, seemed to have alienated me even more. At the reception of Fran's funeral, I met the extended family, but once again, I felt out-of-place: a stranger in a strange land. Since then, I have lost touch with most everyone. Out of sight, out of mind, and perhaps out of influence.

The family I grew up with played an extensive role in the influence and development of my behavior and outlook on life. No family is perfect, but at least the family I grew up with was stable and consistent: I always had a loving mom and dad on which I could depend. No doubt it is better to be an adopted part of a family than a member of an orphanage, and it is better to be alive than aborted. "The family only represents one aspect, however important an aspect, of a human being's functions and activities" (Beck 689). Nothing can replace the benefit of a family, the security of a home, or the nurture of parents.

Luther Mayberry and Fern B Frieze were the parents of my mom, Dorothy Justine Mayberry. Luther was born on 8 July 1885, in Fort Scott, Kansas, and Fern was born on 23 June 1896, in Greenfield, Missouri. Luther grew up and attended school in Fort Scott. In 1901, at age sixteen, he quit high school prior to graduation to work on the Frisco Railroad. he started as a call-boy (phone dispatcher) and worked his way up to fireman than finally engineer. He also served as the secretary for the Brotherhood of Locomotive engineers for a year. He worked for the railroad for thirty-two years until a ruptured gall bladder caused his death on 30 July 1937. Fern grew up and attended school in Greenfield. She then attended college for one year at Drury and one year at Teachers College, both in Springfield, Missouri. she then taught school for one year in a one room country school house until her marriage to Luther.

Luther and Fern met each otter at a meeting for young people at the Christian Endeavor Church in Greenfield, Missouri. Mom indicates that they probably dated for a couple of years before they got married in 1915. They spent their honeymoon in California. when they returned from California, they moved to Fort Scott and rented a room for a week at the Courtland Hotel until they could find a house to rent. Eventually they found a house on the corner of Third and Holbrook, which later they were able to buy (and is still in the family).

After marriage, Fern no longer taught school, but was pretty much a housewife. "He went his way, and she went hers" (Justine Holding). The had two girls: Helen Margaret, born on 25 July 1916; and Dorothy Justine, born on 22 August 1923. Both Luther and Fern belonged to a number of social organizations: the Eastern Star, the Masons, the Presbyterian Church, the Mother's Club, and the Odd Fellows. One time Fern found a white Masonic robe in the basement, and was sure Luther was a member of the Klan!

In 1930, Luther rented his first car (also his first time to drive) to take the family to Walnut, Kansas, for his aunt's funeral. He was supposed to have rented a Model-A, but the car company made him take a Model-T instead. the tires kept going flat on the way to the funeral and on the way home. Luther become so mad at the tires going flat on the way home that he took the tires off, which left the wooden rims bare. The wooden rims made a terrible clacking noise on the brick streets of Fort Scott as Luther drove through the town and the neighborhood. This embarrassed the girls so much that they were ashamed to leave the house for days.

Unfortunately, I know little and can find little about the background of my dad, Vivian Maurice Holding. He was the eldest of four sons from the union of Sylvester Holding and Leona May Woolery, who were married on 3 September 1920. Dad was born on 25 May 1921, in Kincaid, Kansas, where her grew up and attended school. He is survived by two brothers: Richard and Larry (his other brother died at birth). Sylvester and Leona owned a dairy farm, which they sold some time around 1942. with the farm gone, Sylvester took a job as custodian at the Kincaid High School until he got a full-time position as a rural mail carrier in Kincaid.

On 30 July 1972, while Sylvester and Leona were driving home from a fishing trip, a drunk driver broadsided them at a high rate of speed, which killed them both. the drunk's car flipped over Sylvester's car. The drunk suffered only a broken arm and drove off from the scene and never checked on the condition of my grandparents. The drunk was later fined, but he never spent any time in jail. I remember the night the phone-call came and brought such tragic news, and I remember the feeling of helpless devastation it brought with such a sudden impact. what made the impact so tragic was the fact that it was just the previous April that my family had spent a month in Fort Scott while my grandmother, Fern Mayberry, died in the hospital from cancer.. All things must come to an end. when time is given to prepare for the end, it is more easily accepted, if not welcomed. But when the end strikes like a flash of lightening, the impact can be nothing less than catastrophic.

Dorothy Justine Mayberry was born and raised in Fort Scott, Kansas, where she grew up with her sister Helen. Justine attended school in Fort Scott: grade school, grade school, junior high, high school, and junior college (which was on the third floor of the high school). In junior college her minor was business, and her major was college preparatory (preparing for a four year college). She graduated in 1942, but she never went to a four year college due to her marriage to Dad on December 12th of 1941. Vivian Maurice Holding grew up in Kincaid, Kansas, but attended college and played football in Fort Scott. At this time, he was Maurice Vivian Holding. during the time he was in the national Guard, the service transposed his first and middle name which he never bothered to have legally changed back. It was in September 1941, that the college had a hayrack ride for the football boys where Mom met Dad. She almost missed the event; she had just had her tonsils and adenoids taken out two weeks earlier, and her mother did not want her to go for fear that she would get sick. "It was love at first sight" (Justine Holding). they talked all evening, then dad walked her home (she was suffering from love-sickness). She never went with anyone else. the following December they both ran away and were married in Joplin, Missouri, on 12 December 1941, five days after Pearl Harbor was bombed.

After marriage, the two of them lived with Dad's family until 1942. it was in the summer of 1942, that Dad joined the Army and went to Aberdean Proving Ground, Maryland. Mom joined him there the following winter. They stayed there for three and a half years where Dad worked his way up to the rank of Staff-Sergeant in the motor-pool; as an instructor in the motor-pool, he taught men how to drive jeeps, to ride motorcycles, and to drive tanks. He was then transferred into the infantry and moved to Gainesville, Texas, where he and Mom stayed for six months. He was then shipped to the Philippines where he fought in World War II for nine months while Mom returned to Fort Scott to live with her mother. During his time in the Philippines, he had a 38-Caliber pistol that fern Mayberry had given him (Luther's gun). He wore that gun high on his hip. during a patrol in a rice patty, a Japanese sniper shot at him. the bullet struck the pistol which ruined the gun but saved his life. In another incident, a grenade exploded about seven feet from him. He received the Purple Heart for his injuries during the war.

After the war, he received his discharge in 1946, and he returned to Fort Scott. He worked for Montgomery wards in the service department for six months, at which time he got a job with the Frisco Railroad, which allowed Mom and him to move to Oklahoma city, Oklahoma, in 1948. He worked for the Frisco for thirty-four years until his retirement in 1980. dad was active in the Masons for many years, and after his railroad retirement, he was elected to the position of Secretary of the Lodge at his Masonic Hall. he served as secretary at Myrtle Lodge #145 until his death in 1987, from cancer. during her marriage to Dad, Mom devoted herself to being mother and housewife to her husband and their two adopted sons: John Cole and David Alan.

I began my earthly life on 21 July 1962, with some confusion. My mother's married name was Feather, and her maiden name was Johnson. She entered the hospital under her maiden name of Johnson and the name on my hospital crib was "Johnson," but somehow, my birth certificate name read, "Baby boy feather." The folks who adopted me knew I was part Indian, but I was born with blond hair and blue eyes (which both darkened later on) so I did not look part Indian and my crib name did not match my birth certificate. when Maurice and Justine got home with me, they were sure they had the wrong baby - - nothing seemed to match. a return to the hospital and a quick verification made everything okay.

I grew up in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, where I attended public schools until the sixth grade and then private Christian schools until my graduation in 1980. During my fifth year of school, my last year in the public school system, I was part of the bussing program in which I rode a bus some sixty miles across town just to be desegregated. I then attended Wesleyan Christian School, which was a member of the Accelerated Christian Education (A.C.E.) system. I participated in the A.C.E. Regional and national Competitions with my various talents. My best results were in music, more specifically, the organ. I won the regional competition two years in a row and competed at the national level: one year at Bob Jones University in Greenville, south Carolina, and the next year at Hyles Anderson college in Chicago, Illinois (where I won sixth place). In the middle of my eleventh year of high school, I had to transfer to Christian Heritage Academy, where I graduated in 1980.

I began working as an organist for Dodson's Cafeterias in 1974. By the time I graduated from high school, I had done just about every job there was in the cafeteria. After graduation, I changed jobs and became a driver for Medical Arts Labs. I stayed there for a year, after which I got a job with Burns Security in Oklahoma City. During my five years with Burns, I quickly worked up to the position of Post Supervisor. In that position, I supervised contracts for Nicor drilling and Borg Warner. I also served as the field supervisor for the eastern half of Oklahoma, in which I assisted in the supervision of over three thousand weekly man-hours. In 1985, I joined the Navy under the Delayed entry Program. during the last year before I entered the service, I worked with an antique company where I got to travel in the eastern part of the United States collecting and selling antiques.

I had been seriously weight-lifting since the beginning of 1982, and I had competed in power-lifting tournaments in college two years before I left for the Navy. I attended South Oklahoma City community College where I studied data processing and computer programming. I entered the Navy to study electronics and avionics, and I also had hoped to turn my power-lifting benefits into bodybuilding goals while in the service. But shortly after boot camp, an accident changed my goals and possibilities. After that incident, I spent most of my time in recovery from eight different surgeries spread over my five-year enlistment in order to correct my leg injury. although I did finish my Naval schools, and even though I did enjoy serving in various positions, I did not get to fulfill my expectations I had for the service. "I feel robbed in an immense manner as far as my career expectations," I noted to the Veterans Affairs Office when questioned how I felt. "I did not get to practice that field for which I contracted and studied" (David Holding 1). During my second enlistment, while stationed in San Diego, California, I finally had to accept a disability discharge in September of 1991. I felt isolated and abandoned; "I'm a lonely soldier lost at sea, drifting with the tide, never quite knowing why" (Styx).

After my discharge, I spent time in San Diego trying to heal from my last surgery while organizing my life. I worked as an in-home health caregiver for an A.I.D.S. patient while trying to start a leather-craft business. I was also waiting for my veteran's claim to be processed, more especially my Vocational Rehabilitation claim that would pay for college. Unfortunately, the processing took most of the year, so I ran out of patience and resources. My life, money, health, and work situation did not succeed in California; thus, in the summer of 1993, I hastily vacated to Fort Scott, where Mom had returned a year earlier. I had always wanted to ride my motorcycle across the country, but preferably on a leisurely vacation. Instead, I found myself riding non-stop in an effort to escape a frustrated situation in my life. there in Fort Scott, I was able to rest my leg so it could finally heal. I was unable to find suitable work so I could pay my few bills; thus, I lost my favorite possession, my motorcycle.

Currently, I am charting and working on my new direction and goals in life by taking the lessons and experiences of my past and heading onward. I still have both my legs, although one may hurt more often than the other. I now receive a monthly disability payment from the Veterans Administration, and they will pay for college and help me find a job, so education and employment is optimistic. although I did lose a lot of my possessions, although I did miss my expectations, and although I did become a prodigal son, I still have myself and the opportunity to start over. But most of all, I still have a family that can and will help me when I am in need.

The Lord may give, and the Lord may take,
And who knows from where the cold winds may blow.
But in the end, it is the warm family love,
That will keep us from falling too far below.
David Holding

WORK CITED PAGE

1. Allee, John g, ed. Webster's Dictionary, Ottenheimer Publishers, Inc.: Framingham, Massachusetts, 1975.
2. Beck, Emily Morison, ed. familiar quotations, John Bartlett. 15th & 125th Anniversary edition. Little, Brown and company: Boston, 1980.
3. Carmean, Helen. Personal interview. 9 November 1994.
4. Holding, David. Notes to the Veterans Administration. 15 June 1992.
5. Morse, Joseph L. "Genealogy." Funk & Wagnalls New encyclopedia 1973 ed.
6. Morse, Joseph L. "Heredity." Funk & Wagnalls New encyclopedia 1973 ed.
7. Plotnik, Rod. Introduction to Psychology. 3rd ed. Belmont, Ca.: Wadsworth Inc., 1993.
8. Styx. "Man In The wilderness." The Grand Illusion. A&M Records, CD-3223, 1977.