“Good morning, Elliott, Gloria,” she said. “I think I have what you’re looking for.” She held up the briefcase with her left hand and patted it with her right.
Gloria and I both got to our feet and invited Melinda to sit in my chair at my desk. “What did you find?” I said, anxious to hear the news of my ancestors.
Melinda snapped open the briefcase and withdrew a neatly folded sheet of white paper. She laid it out on my desk and carefully unfolded it several times. Unfolded, it took up most of the surface of my desk. Gloria and I came around behind Melinda to look over her shoulder as she explained the contents of the family tree. She pointed to our son’s name at the bottom. “As you may recall, we started with little Matt and added you both as parent branches.” She looked at me. “And then you added your parents’ names above yours.” She pointed out Dad and Mom’s slots along with Grandpa Matt and Grandma Amy. Above that, she pointed out Great-Grandpa Nick’s name. “This was as far as we got that day in my office. You thought Nick’s wife’s name was Eve, remember?”
“Wasn’t it?” I said.
“Close,” Melinda said. “It was Evelyn, Evelyn Adams.” She pointed to Evelyn’s box on the chart and then slid her finger to the right. “And as it turns out, Nicholas Cooper had a brother, Raymond.”
I looked at the name and the dates listed above it. It said, ‘1896-1917’ above Raymond’s name. I did a quick mental subtraction and said, “He only lived to be nineteen.”
“Not quite,” Melinda said. “Eighteen years and seven months to be exact. Raymond died in France during World War I.”
“I never heard that name mentioned,” I said. “I wonder how much Grandpa Matt even knew about him. Raymond would have died when Matt was just six years old.”
Melinda moved on up the tree and pointed out Nicholas’s parents, John Cooper and Sara Phelps. From the chart, I could tell that John had lived from 1854 to 1922 and that his wife had outlived him by sixteen years. Apparently John Cooper also had a brother, Philip who also lived to the ripe old age of nineteen. I looked at Melinda.
“Spanish-American War,” she said by way of explanation.
“Sure didn’t pay to join the Army, did it?” Gloria said. “I suppose next you’ll point out some Cooper who bought the farm during the Civil War.”
“No,” Melinda said. “Those were the only two war casualties.” She moved up the chart from there and pointed out John Cooper’s parents, Ellen Harris and Sebastian Cooperman.
“Cooperman?” I said. “You sure about that, Melinda?”
She gave me a look that made me regret my question immediately. “Of course you are,” I said. “Sorry, go on.”
“Sebastian Cooperman,” Melinda said, “wasn’t the one who changed the family name. His son John did, but I’ll get back to that in a minute. Sebastian had a brother, Arthur and a sister, Eva, neither of which ever married, so that branch ended with them. Sebastian was born in 1821 in Massachusetts. His wife, Ellen Harris was born in 1825 just three miles down the road from the Cooperman house.”
“How handy,” I said.
“There’s more,” Melinda said. “I was able to trace the tree back one more generation. Sebastian’s parents were Henrietta Berg and Oscar Cooperman.”
Gloria shot me an astonished look. “Oscar,” she said. “Imagine that.” She looked at Melinda. “Sorry, go on with your findings.”
“Oscar Cooperman was born in Liverpool, England in 1788,” Melinda said. “Henrietta Berg’s family came from across the channel in Germany in the late eighteenth century. They were married in 1810 and had the three children you see here.” She pointed to the branch below their names. “I couldn’t find any records earlier than Oscar and Henrietta, but that’s not uncommon. People didn’t keep very accurate records back then. Most of what you might find from that period might only be found in family bibles and such.”
“What were you going to say about John Cooperman changing the family name?” I said. “Did you ever find out why he did that?”
“That’s an interesting story by itself,” Melinda said. “John Cooperman left home in 1872 when he turned eighteen. He worked his way west, settling in Ohio in 1874. When he was registering to vote he started to sign Cooperman but was interrupted by the sounds of a gunfight in the street outside. He got as far as signing Cooper and never corrected it. He liked the sound of the shortened name and stuck with it.”
I counted tiers on the chart. “Eight levels,” I said. “That’s still pretty impressive.”
Gloria wrapped an arm around mine and smiled. “Elliott,” she said. “How does it feel to be able to trace your lineage back that far?”
“It’s pretty amazing,” I had to admit. “Now I can see where Grandpa Matt’s brother, Philip got his name.” I studied the chart for another minute and then turned to Melinda. “Thank you so much, Melinda. You’re amazing.”
“Thank you, Elliott,” she said. “We’ll see how amazing you think I am after you get my bill.”
“It’ll be worth it,” I said. “Thanks again.” I showed her to the door and watched as Melinda walked back to the elevator.
“Oscar Cooperman,” Gloria said. “What are the odds?”
“There’s a category they overlooked during the Academy Awards,” I said.
“What’s that?” Gloria said.
“Actor with the longest traceable family tree,” I said.
Gloria punched me in the shoulder. “Yeah,” she said. “Give ‘em time, Elliott. Someone’ll think of it.”
The Complete Cooper Collection (All 97 Stories) Page 290