Love Thy Neighbor (even if she is thy cousin) By David L. Brooks [email protected] When I was growing up, before the advent of television, my parents derived much pleasure from the visits of other "old-timers." Much to my youthful disgust, they would sit for seemingly endless hours and talk about their parents, grandparents, cousins, and uncles and aunts, as well as all the kinfolks of the neighbors. Never in my remotest dreams did it ever occur to me that I should have been listening instead of smirking. Now that most of those who could have supplied the answers to many of my questions about those souls from whom I sprang, are gone, I have developed an interest in genealogy. If only someone had taken it upon himself to preserve some of the fruits of these meetings on paper, how much easier would the tracking down of my ancestors now be. Early in my quest for information about my progenitors, I became amazed at the frequency at which they intermarried. Marriages of second, third, and even first cousins were not uncommon. After reflecting upon this phenomenon, I have concluded that perhaps we should not be too harsh in judgment of those kissing cousins of days gone by. Let's consider their plight: First, there just were not many people from whom to select a marriage partner, especially in the rural areas where the pioneering families lived. Travel was severely restricted, since they had neither automobiles or roads -- the horse was the "mane" mode of transportation. (Usually, the horse was one with which the fields were plowed, wagons and sleds were pulled, and general farm work performed, so knights upon prancing steeds our ancestral swains were not.) Add to this the fact that trying to wrest a living from the rocky hillsides was a six- or seven-day-a-week job for all able-bodied males of the family and it will be understood that courting did not enjoy prime-time billing. Maybe this was Mother Nature's application of the principle of survival of the fittest to those earlier generations -- only the most-determined people married and reared families. >From the studies I have made thus far in my embryonic genealogical career, I believe that I now understand more about how those farm lads who begat us chose their mates. They would strike out across the mountain from where they lived, and if a wife was found on the other side of that mountain, it was his first cousin whom he married. If no suitable bride material was found there, he crossed the second mountain. A girl chosen there would be his second cousin. If he had to cross three mountains in search of a heart and hand, it would be his third cousin, and on and on. The roving suitor-at-large who completely left the county on his mission stood a chance of finding someone who was of no blood relation at all, but many may have considered it not worth the extra time and effort to do so, with all those good-looking cousins just across a mountain or two. Having no expertise in the field of genetics, I cannot say if the many horror stories about inadequacies and deformities of the offspring of parents whose families have excessively intermarried for generations have any validity. I only know that if I were a young man seriously considering matrimony, I would not take any chances. Conceded, love may be blind, but it doesn't have to be stupid and irresponsible as well. A couple who expects to combine their talents and genes to produce children would be wise to have some genealogical knowledge of each other. I am speaking from experience -- I inadvertently married my fifth cousin, and all five of our children, with no exceptions, were born stark naked and with hair all over the tops of their heads.