Enter your dad’s birthdate and location of birth and death information if any, on the third line.
I like to pride myself on being a person who doesn’t harbor grudges, but I began to see that I maintained some resentment for my dad. He was born Roosevelt Bass jr 1 Oct 1932 Warren, Arkansas, and passed away 9 Dec 2016. While I understood the disintegration of our family unit occurred after my mom became too ill to keep us in her care. What I didn’t understand is why my dad couldn’t have taken us in? Why he would allow us to be placed in foster homes twice? He wasn’t ill, he maintained his own home and remarried more than once.
By my early twenties, admittedly, I had lost some respect for him. My thoughts were why hadn’t he done more to keep us together? My mom would have if she could. Why did he seem to love his step families, the children of his subsequent wives, more than his own? At the age of twenty-three when I came back to California I was determined to learn. He and I had a rocky beginning at first, he didn’t care for the boyfriend I was dating. He didn’t approve of my flippant, and brash attitude toward him. Mind you, I usually use tact and diplomacy toward others but when I reflect I realize how angry I was at him, and I didn’t think he cared. Afterall, I was an adult now, I thought, and didn’t require his approval.
He and I had several disagreements, a few shouting matches and some long heart to heart talks, before we relented. We became very close over the years to come. What I learned was that foremost, he and I were very similar, and that he was human and prone to mistakes as we all are, and that you can’t go back and change what happened in the past, but you can improve the present, and move forward. I learned that his childhood had also been disrupted early by the death of his mother, my grandmother Naomi Tidwell, and he like me and my siblings had to adapt early to the pain not only of departure and separation, but of the imposition of being raised by surrogate mothers, in his case step mother’s in mine and my sibling’s, foster mother’s.
Naomi Tidwell was born in 1912 Warren Bradley Arkansas, she married my grand dad Roosevelt Bass on 24 Dec 1928 when she was only sixteen. On her marriage certificate she claimed she was eighteen. Her second child, my dad was born in 1932, and before he reached his first birthday she was gone. She passed away in 1933, leaving my granddad with two children to raise alone.
My dad and his eldest sister were raised by his dad and three different step-mother’s. His dad was Roosevelt Bass Sr. Born 1 Sep 1905 in Marion, Union Parish Louisiana, passed in Aug 1969 Los Angeles, California. He was my dad said, very strict when he was coming up. I begun to empathize with my dad’s inner child, that like my own had been bruised, separated too early from our mother.
Like so many black families by 1865 during Reconstruction when required to choose a surname, my paternal line adopted the surname of one of their former enslavers. Bass was the surname they chose. I have learned the haplogroup which is the male direct paternal lineage of the Anglo-saxon Bass family from Union Parish, Louisiana it is R-M269 (R1b1) it is of an ancient Scottish derivative. My dads haplogroup is E-U174 (E1b1a) of ancient African origin. We are indirectly, distantly, and autosomally related to the Bass family of Union Parish, which I will explain later.
My dad spit in a cup three times for me. He took the DNA test with three different testing companies. This act alone helped me greatly in finding our origins, as he and I both wanted to know more about our family and ourselves. My dad discovered that he is 91% African, a very high percent and only 8% European, the rest South East Asian and Native American in trace amounts. Using DNA matching we were able to trace our family tree, add to what we already knew, learn more, and meet wonderful new cousins from all over America and the world.