The Odds
On our second to last day in Ireland, my father and I negotiated the Ireland busing system, and purchased two tickets to Ardee, a small village about an hour and a half north of Dublin. The bus would apparently stop a five minute walk outside of the main town – and another bus would be returning to the same location at 6pm. We nervously boarded the bus out of Dublin.
Ardee, Ireland was where my great, great, great grandfather John Malone lived before leaving for America. The namesake of the Malone family, my Father’s Mother’s family – and the eldest relative I have any knowledge of. And I know little more than that he came from Ardee. According to my father, he came to the States, fought in the Civil War and earned enough funds to have his wife join him. How much of that story is true, and how much are details from novels that got wrapped up in truth I have no idea – but in town we discovered two Malone’s – including a business with the name – so it’s safe to say that there’s some truth to the story.
In Ardee there are two 13th Century castles that greet you at either end of the main street. Walking up and examining those castles and the grounds surrounding them – I felt as if I were looking through a telescope into space, gazing at star light from a distant past. There is no doubt that John Malone – my Father’s Mother’s Father’s Father’s Father looked upon those very same walls – and walked those very same grounds. Beyond him though – I can see no further.
In fact, it’s funny how little we know about where we come from. When a child is born, we often say “he has his mother’s nose” or “she looks just like her dad” – and that’s understandable. The two parent represent the DNA mixture that produced this child. Everything this child is, has come from them. But that doesn’t really tell us much – seeing as how the child’s parents are results of the same process via their parents. Suddenly you have four grandparents that are the DNA culprits behind this new-born. However, right behind them are eight great-grandparents who might have something to do with this as well.
Sadly, this is where the “you know whose eyes those are” game wears off. Humans simply don’t live to a point where we get many great-great-great anythings. But if we did – and I could look all the way back to John Malone in Ardee, Ireland – there are 31 other individuals, including his wife (my great-great-great grandmother) where my DNA directly comes from.
I can account for two of those 32 great-great-great grandparents – and I know for a fact the Spies branch was not in Ardee, Ireland. The rest are a mystery – as are their 64 parents who also hold the answers to my DNA riddle – albeit the waters are getting a bit muddied.
In fact, the only thing I really know about most of the people that came before me was that they were healthy enough, smart enough, and lucky enough to reach the age of procreation, and at least one of the children they created was capable of doing the same. If any of them were unable to perform this task, I simply would never have existed. Seriously though – what are the odds that around 1850, sixty-four unique individuals, in at least three different countries, would survive long enough to meet and produce children capable of doing the same so that I could carry those same genetic codes some century and a half later. The numbers begin to grow exponentially beyond there. If we say the average age of procreation for a male is 25 (and this would vary wildly in different cultures, but even so, I’m still seven years late), we can estimate that while America was declaring its independence in 1776, there were approximately 248 people walking around with all the ingredients that make up me.
As Louis XIV reigned supreme from the Palace at Versailles in the 1680’s, nearly 4000 individuals with a part of me walked the Earth. And in 1492, as Columbus set foot in the Americas, over half a million of my direct ancestors, awaited his discovery. As did their million parents… and possibly two million grand-parents.
When those castles were put up in the 13th Century in Ardee Ireland, over 520 million individuals, and their billion-plus parents walked the Earth.
NOW WAIT A SECOND… were there even a billion people alive in the 13th Century? No… no there weren’t. So what happened? Well… the lines cross. Where, we have no idea, but no doubt they must – in fact they do for everyone. They simply have to. If you think it’s sticky in the 13th Century? By 1100 there would be over 33 Billion ancestors walking the planet at the same moment if our family tree didn’t start reconnecting some of its limbs. I’m not talking about kissing cousins – it’s quite possible many of these re-connections occurred without knowledge. After a few centuries, the chances of finding a mate who DID NOT have shared DNA traits would be nearly impossible, especially when considering how little people traveled up until a century ago.
I recall my mother telling a story of how her parents were forbidden to marry, because one was Catholic and one was Protestant – a scenario played out many times for Irish immigrants in NY, some of which were from Northern Ireland, some from the southern region. Rather than looking towards their parents for identity, had they only seen their true heritage, looked a few centuries more back – clearly their bloodlines ran parallel – clearly they already shared not so distant relatives.
Religious zealots of all persuasion would have you believe some God placed us here with intent – a perfect spot for a perfect species. I for one find that to be a bit contrary to the facts. I see a species poorly prepared for this environment, that has some how managed to survive and pass on its code and its knowledge to future generations, time and again. On a planet that is 70% covered by water we can not breath within or in most cases drink – cut off by distance and the need for oxygen from all other planets – with less hearing capacity than a common hound and lacking the capacity to see the majority of the light spectrum – we seem an unlikely success story. But I am just that. As are you. The DNA prize of countless humans who struggled to survive childhood, found a mate, and were able to produce at least one child capable of doing the same.
I have two wonderful parents who I love – and it’s great when I see a part of me in them. But it’s also good to remember that I am not just of them – I am of the the same DNA as everyone else. The same as you – the same as all those who have come before, and that next generation just beginning the journey. And even this great species we call our own, is merely one branch of an even grander tree. I guess the question becomes – what aren’t you like? And if any of those million of connections had never occurred, would you still exist? How radically do you alter the distant future with every choice you make?
After a few hours and a handful of pubs, my father and I made our way out of the town center and back to the main road to wait for the bus. As promised, at six o’clock it came around the corner and picked us up. We boarded the bus and left the town of Ardee with far less trepidation than I imagine John Malone had when he set off for American a century and a half ago. That decision, and the many before and after it are part of an endless list of reasons I exist in the first place. I for one am glad he made the trip.
I had just explored what is often referred to as a “thought experiment”. A famous example being Sir Issaac Newton’s thought experiment in which he imagined a cannon placed on the highest mountain on Earth. If it shot a cannon ball at a certain speed it would go such a distance and then fall. Faster speed, further distance. At what speed would it have to reach to never fall? Our modern day satellites fly at that speed – Newton was a bit ahead of his time.
I learned in college that Albert Einstein had discovered in 1905 that the visuals – light – and the speed at which they approach us as the observer, is the only true constant. That time was relative. That one’s experience is relative – and that the duration of the time between two events can be different for two separate observers. Your experience is different from mine.
At home – I can finally see myself using an eReader.
