Brotherly Love at Any Age - The Tie That Binds!

You reach the age of 64 and you receive a letter - a letter saying "This is one of those 'out of the blue' things! - - I think perhaps, just maybe, we're brothers." That's exactly what happened when my husband, Alfred Shackles, received a letter from a Reverend Robert A. Shackles. Brothers? You've got to be kidding.

You marry, have children, The years fly by and the children grow up and they marry and have children. You retire and if you're lucky, you live out your retirement years with someone you love. Now you have the time to relax, travel, play golf, and enjoy those "Golden Years - the Final Chapter" when all of a sudden, your life changes and you find our you have what I guess would be termed, an "extended" family.

Let's start at the beginning or at least back to July of 1930, those depression years, the year when my husband, Al, was born. From 1930 through 1937 he lived with his mother, Edna, and his father, Alfred Percival Thompson Shackles. In 1937 his father left his mother, and him, for parts unknown never to be heard from again. All Alfred Percival Thompson Shackles left was a $250 chattel mortgage loan, some personal papers, and some rather unpleasant memories - nothing else. To make ends meet and to pay off this loan, his mother worked as a domestic and various other low-paying menial jobs. It took her five years, from 1937 to 1942, to pay off the $72.46 interest charge plus the $250.. This small payment book tells a story all itself. The debt was paid with $2.00 payments and some as little as 45 cents but paid in full nonetheless. Had she not satisfied this mortgage, "they" would have taken away the kitchen table and chairs, the green day bed her son slept on, the lamp, the rug, the bedroom set, the couch, the radio, and yes, even the ice box - all listed in the chattel mortgage application. The payment book was duly marked and initialed with an entry "OK - Settled" next to her April 22, 1942 payment of $5. My mother-in-law never told me this story. I found the legal mortgage loan papers and the small 3" X 5" payment book after searching through papers following that "out of the blue letter."

My mother-in-law never talked about my husband's father (as she infrequently referred to him) and would never give us any information about him. When she passed away in 1982, we came across some old papers. There was a hotel bill when they first met, discharge papers from the U.S. Army, the loan book, a drivers license, and other miscellaneous papers. These were kept in an envelope and were never looked at again. That is, not looked at again until we were contacted by someone named The Reverend Robert A. Shackles.

The letter my husband received, a month or so ago, was from The Reverend Robert A. Shackles, an Episcopal priest. Being somewhat of a computer maven, Father Shackles was browsing through a CD national phone directory. Curiously, he came across 66 individuals with his last surname one of which was Alfred Shackles. His father's name was Alfred P. Thompson Shackles and his father left his mother in September of 1929 just before his birth in that same month, in that same year, never to be heard from again. The letter went on to say "I know very little about my father except that he did serve in the army..." To say we were a little surprise, shocked, and curious would be putting it mildly.

Could there be two people in the same geographical area with the same name? The name Alfred Percival Thompson Shackles is not exactly a Smith or a Jones. How many people can there be with middle names of Percival Thompson? We corresponded and provided each other with whatever information we had. Papers from Robert's mother and papers from Al's mother. Then came the frosting on the cake - an exchange of photographs. There was little doubt, at least in my mind, the two men were indeed brothers. Both men are tall -over 6'as was their father. Both men had ashen blond hair. Both men have blue eyes as did their father.

Robert and two siblings, both girls, were brought up by his mother and an aunt. Al, on the other hand was raised by his mother as an only child. The word "brother" or "sister" is foreign to him and while he knows deep down that he does have a brother, just the word is difficult at best. Robert, on the other hand stated in one of his letters that he was brought up in a six member household, five of whom were women. He said "I don't know if it hurt me all that much. It is just that I always thought how nice it would have been to have a brother."

Three weeks went by with the exchange of letters, photographs, documents, etc. And then, Al made the phone call to his big brother. Well, Robert was the big brother. After all, he was born the year before. It was a difficult phone call for Al to make. What do you say to someone that you have never met - someone who more than likely is your brother? The conversation was not what one would describe as emotional. However, it was a dialogue of great depth and feeling between two men who have a fraternal bond that surfaced after sixtyfour years for Al and sixty-five years for Bob. They talked for over an hour very little of which was about the father who left them. One of the first question my husband asked his brother was a rather simple one. "Do you like to be called Robert or Bob?" he asked. Bob and Al talked about their education, their careers, their children and grandchildren, their present life, and their retirement. A couple of days following the call, Bob wrote and said "What an exciting day it was for me to hear both your voices. I still am filled with goosebumps every time I think about what has happened in the past weeks." He says it still has a funny ring to say "my brother Al!" Bob also quipped that while he is "not thrilled with the methodology of the reality, but the reality" and that "That's about as exciting as it gets. Like that TV commercial, 'it doesn't get any better than this!"

We now have an extended family. My husband has a brother and a couple of sisters. My children for the first time have an uncle and two aunts, (you see, I too am an only child) and I have a brother-in-law and sisters-in law.

Isn't it interesting that many young men today who "go wrong" or take the wrong path in life blame society for all their ills? They blame their parents. They blame the school system and their teachers. They blame their environment. They blame everyone and everything when they choose to use drugs, or steal, or kill, or hurt others - a kind of "no-fault" morality. Hey, don't blame me, it's not my fault! Of course, there’s 'that all too familiar excuse -the lack of a "father figure" or "role model." Al and Bob's father was not a role model by any stretch of the imagination and he certainly would not have won the father of the year award. In 1929, he left his pregnant wife and two other children the oldest of whom was five. Seven years later he left another woman when that child was seven years old. Both men were brought up in a single parent household with no father figure and no male role model. In spite of this, both men received an education. Both men led productive, respected lives in their communities. The older of the two, Bob, is an ordained Episcopal priest and Al, just a year younger, was an electrical engineer with Grumman for more than thirty years until his retirement. These two men took responsibility for their own actions and proved once again, you do have a choice in selecting your path, in creating your own destiny or as Reverend Bob so prophetically and biblically put it - "From Bad Seed to Good Seed and Hallelujah, Amen!"

Oh yes, the two brothers have another common denominator. Neither one followed in their fathers footsteps. Bob is married to his wife, Doris, for 41 years and Al and I will be celebrating our 42nd wedding anniversary this October. Sometime, the old clich6 "The apple doesn't fall very far from the tree" doesn't hold true. Thank God!

Epilogue: The "out of the blue" letter was written on June 6, 1994 and five months later on November 1, 1994, The Reverend and Mrs. Robert Shackles drove from Muskegon, Michigan to Pompano Beach, Florida for a mutually anxious, welcome, and emotional meeting. To say the meeting went well would be putting it mildly. The few days before the actual meeting were somewhat tense. What if we didn't like each other? What if this and what if that and the"what ifs!'continued. Bob and Doris were going to stay with us at our home. Initially there was some reluctance on Bob's part as he offered to stay at a nearby motel. We were insistent that he stay with us. I jokingly said "Look, you can choose your friends, but you can't choose your relatives and like it or not we're stuck with each other." I think this put them a little more at ease. Besides, they were only going to stay with us for two days. How bad could it get? For two days, even if things didn't go well, we could certainly be civil to each other.

The week prior to the meeting, we received post cards - "Don't bother, don't fuss, it's only us - Your family" and "We will be on your door step in a week - can't wait to finally meet you" and another that said "The anticipation is mounting, only five more days." Then, Tuesday afternoon came - about four or so. We had welcome signs on the garage door just to make sure they knew which house was ours. Bob got out of the car and Al walked out to greet him. The two men embraced and greeted each other simultaneously with "Hi brother!" It was unbelievable. They looked alike and had many of the same mannerisms. Any doubt disappeared at that very moment. They were indeed brothers. We went inside and talked and talked and talked.

That evening at dinner, I apologized to Bob for staring at him so much. I couldn't take my eyes off him. The resemblance was uncanny. Neighbors stopped by to meet our new family and were absolutely amazed. The following day, the two men exchanged political views, childhood memories, likes, dislikes, hobbies, and touched on a host of subjects. The similarities were incredible.

Oh yes, one more thing. I just adore my new sister-in-law. She is an absolutely charming lady in every sense of the word. The four of us got along so well that it was hard to believe that we had never met before. We all agreed that we not only have a new family but we have indeed found new best friends.

Sad to say, but Al Shackles died in 1996. His brother, the priest, was there to concelebrate mass at the Roman Catholic Church. The following day, under the Gazebo, adjacent to the pool, family, friends, and neighbors gathered for an outdoor mass celebrating the life of Al Shackles. To this day, I remain close to Father Bob and his wife who consider me their sister!

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