A light-hearted essay from Blueberry Hill Cottage
by Richard L. Thornton, Architect & City Planner
If the young senator is not the product of a certain prominent fertility clinic in Asheville, NC then we are likely kinfolk. Some of my mother’s Creek ancestors were deported from Georgia during the Third Seminole War. They were dumped by the Sheriff’s posse on the Alabama side of the Chattahoochee River. They were supposed to walk all the way to Oklahoma, but instead settled down in Barbour, Dale and Henry Counties, Alabama. That is where Sen. Britt was born.
Unfortunately, that side of the family lost my mother’s side’s talents in public speaking and deductive reasoning, due to extended exposure to Southeast Alabama’s summer heat, plus close encounters of a third kind with Alabama’s White Citizens Councils.
Pogroms against Creeks and Uchees in Georgia continued until 1855, Most people don’t know that. Both my real father’s and my mother’s families were Itsate Creeks, not Muskogee Creeks. Our closest kin are the Hitchiti-speaking Seminoles in Florida, so when Seminoles were goaded into fighting for their existence in Florida, greedy slave-owning planters in Georgia would use it as an excuse to steal our land.
International Women’s Day
Yesterday, I celebrated International Women’s Day the good old fashion way . . . by bemoaning how stupid I was in the past for not just throwing caution to the wind and then riding off into the sunset with one of these beautiful, intelligent foreign women, who loved me sincerely. You will understand why, when you hear the story below.
Hey! You are my Biological Daddy!
In 1983, while living in the Reems Creek Valley, near Asheville, North Carolina, I was already aware that something was amiss in the 9 years we wasted money on fertility treatments for my now- former wife. One of the nurses at this prominent fertility clinic asked me to design a new deck for her house. Almost immediately after I arrived at her home, she showed off her new son, then she told me, “You need to get a divorce as soon as possible. As soon as you remarry, you and your new wife can have all the children you want.”
That is NOT the sort of thing normally spoken by a stranger, who is a brand new architecture client. I really didn’t know what to say . . . and being a naïve “Boy Scout” type guy . . . totally faithful to my wife . . . I did not think through what she was really saying to me.
She was not the first acquaintance in Asheville to advise me to get a divorce. However, none of them told me why, so I refused to take them seriously. After moving to the Shenandoah Valley, close friends in the Washington, DC begin telling me the same thing and telling me why.
Unfortunately, I did not act quickly and file for divorce when my friends at the Smithsonian Institute advised me to. I was deluded into thinking that since my wife had one or two people on the side, we could work things out amicably, with none us of being the worse for it. Nope . . . I procrastinated too long and allowed her to destroy me financially, when she secretly filed for bankruptcy while the divorce proceedings were underway.
In June 1991, I was paired with Susan in a big US Department of Justice Investigation. We were supposed to fake having an affair so that I could get information from honest law enforcement officers to the FBI. We ended up faking having a fake affair.
I was actually mentioned in Susan’s letter of commendation. It urged her to continue our relationship as she was learning much from me. I don’t think the author realized that I was legally married to the Anti-wife . . . or maybe they also were telling me to not be an idiot any longer and get a divorce. Susan was transferred to Atlanta in December 1991.
In 1994, the fertility nurse was single and living in Roswell, GA (North Atlanta suburb) near where I now lived. Susan also lived in the Roswell Area and introduced me to the church she was attending.
The nurse visited our singles Sunday School class at Roswell United Methodist Church then asked me to come by her townhouse for dinner. I told her that I was in a relationship with someone in that church. That’s when she told me that the baby I saw at her home near Asheville was my son. She also told me that lot’s of other women around the Southeast had my children. She said that I probably had over a hundred children, but I didn’t believe her again.
Then about 7 years ago, a woman emailed me about an article I had written on my Native American DNA. She asked me, if I had ever lived in the Asheville Area and what Native American tribe was I descended from. I wrote back that I had lived in the Asheville Area for 9 years and that I was Creek and Uchee,
She wrote back that her mother had told her and her brother that their biological father was a Cherokee architect in Charlotte with 8 years of college, who was also very athletic. She had graduated from Georgia Tech with a Masters in Bio-mechanical Engineering and her brother was a Civil Engineering student at Tech. She had taken a DNA test, hoping to prove that she was Cherokee, but the test came back that all of her Asian DNA was from Mexico, Peru, Polynesia and Lapland . . . just like the strange combination of DNA that I described in one of my articles.
The lady then emailed me again and said that yes, I was her biological father. Her mother had confirmed it. By this time, I had already figured out, who her mother was. She was an acquaintance friend in Asheville, who out of the blue asked me if we could have children together. The woman said that she had already gotten permission from my wife, who told her that we were in an “open marriage.”
That was something that I was not aware of. Well, at any rate, somehow her mother found out that that big fertility clinic was charging me for giving them my vital bodily fluids then charging wannabe mothers out of the ying-yang to put those fluids to practical use.
My biological daughter attached a photo of herself. She asked me if she looked like any of my own children or siblings? “My mother said that the clinic produced children from you for about a decade, because your wife told the clinic that she didn’t want to have children, but wanted you to think that she was trying.”
She wrote me one more time to tell me that two of my children were birthed by an A-list actress, who thought that she was part Cherokee and so came to Asheville for fertility treatments, thinking that she was getting a Cherokee father for her children. My daughter also had a half-biological brother friend from Asheville High School, who had graduated from Georgia Tech. They had actually started dating in the 11th grade, but sooner or later, their parents told them that they had the same father. Life has gotten complicated in our times.
Well, life is like a box of chocolates . . . but can you imagine how much it would have cost me to put over a hundred offspring through college?
Post Script Humor: During the first two years that I lived here, the Habersham County Sheriff’s Department, White County Sheriff’s Department, Clarkesville Police Department, Cleveland Police Department and Helen Police Department spent untold thousands of dollars of your taxpayers money, trying to prove that I was a gay male prostitute, because I did not accept Mein Kampf as the True Word of God and Sacred Scripture, plus I refused to bow down and worship Lord Donald as the True Messiah, sent by God, to save America from happiness and honest government.
Then they downloaded all the photos in my computer, hoping to find little boys or something perverted like that. Instead they found mostly photos of buildings and nature . . . plus some G-rated photos of my International girlfriends. The Mountain Area District Attorneys Office then changed the investigation into that I was a predator of young women in their 20s. You might think I am kidding, but I am not.
The Americas Revealed 