Columnist discovers the power of the press

I found a picture, taken sometime in the 1940’s, which shows my grandmother, bundled in a shapeless coat, felt hat, and galoshes, standing in the snow outside of her Oregon homestead. She has the leashes of three hounds caught firmly in one hand, and in the other she’s holding aloft a recently and thoroughly deceased raccoon, which she appears to have dispatched with the enthusiastic help of the dogs and a substantial board. Apparently, it was a really annoying raccoon. You won’t see sentimental pictures like that on the Hallmark Channel.

I’ve spent the last few days going through bags and boxes of pictures of people that I can’t identify, looking for distinguishing marks of family resemblance. It’s not too hard. “Dad’s ears are big enough to have their own zip code,” one son observed helpfully.

This is all because last week I discovered two new cousins—or rather, they discovered me. It happened in the old-fashioned way, not with DNA testing but through this very newspaper. My newly discovered cousins, Ted and Greg Franco, read my column in The News Tribune (such intelligent fellows!). They noted the repeated appearance of shared family names and figured out that we must be related.

I had lunch with my new relations and quickly realized one big difference. Their side of the family is the successful, distinguished and prosperous side; my side runs to entertainers, wrestlers, carnies and others who seem—to put it generously—original in their approach to life.

For instance, I have a flyer with a picture taken in 1961 of my uncle Pete Franco, attired in astonishingly little and describing himself as “YOGI HUSSEIN, The Sheik of Arabia.” As far as I know, Pete was never near Arabia in his life. A professional wrestler, he offered himself as a personal trainer with a unique approach. He promised to teach the secrets of weight training exercises he learned “working as a young man in a packing house in the meat industry.” The cost for this priceless and puzzling advice was $6.50. No sales record is available.

As an older son, in a family with 24 children, my grandfather Pasquale Franco, father of Pete and 11 other children, grew up in the Italian village of Altomonte with an expectation of wealth and was groomed to take over the international family business. In fact, ship registries show that he made several trips to the United States before the business failed. He attacked this challenge head-on by refusing to work ever again.

My cousins’ side of the family descends from their great-great-grandfather (my great uncle Benjamino Franco). As the baby of those 24 kids, he had no hope of help from the family business and so came to the United States to seek his fortune. He worked hard for the Great Northern Railroad for 40 years, and was often in a position to generously help his big brother.

Uncle Ben’s son Lou Franco became the project manager hired to rebuild the Hijaz Railway destroyed by T.E. Lawrence (Lawrence of Arabia) in 1917.

According to Smithsonian Magazine:

“By his count, Lawrence personally blew up 79 bridges along the railway, becoming so adept that he perfected a technique of leaving a bridge ‘scientifically shattered’—ruined but still standing. Turkish crews then faced the time-consuming task of dismantling the wreckage before repairs could begin.”

An article from AramcoWorld in September/October 1965 describes the men chosen to reactivate the Hijaz Railway line and describes my cousin Lou Franco:

“Mr. Franco, an American construction engineer with a distinguished record of achievement on five continents, assembled a crew of 25 Syrian, Jordanian, American, English, Belgian and Malayan engineers, and began work in March, 1964.”

It turns out that there really is a circle of life, just like a Disney movie, but with fewer cute animals and a lot less singing.

As I write this column, I’m celebrating my 86th birthday. With the loss of my sister-in-law a few days ago, I’ve become the “last man standing”—the eldest of my generation in our family. Author Sunie Levin terms us “Senior Orphans.” There are more of us every day. What do we do now? What could be accomplished if we used our elder wisdom to change the world?

Longevity runs in our family. Uncle Ben lived to be a very active 104 years old, square dancing until he was 102.

If I’m really going to live another 20 years, I should start with a change I can feel confident about.

I think I’ll wash my hair.

Where to find Dorothy in January

• Jan 5: Launch Event for “Help! Peggi’s Cooking a Turkey,” noon-3 p.m. at the Oldfield Western Heritage Center next to the Red Gate at the Puyallup Fair Grounds. Meet Dorothy and get your autographed book from author Peggi Selden Rowe. (A portion of sales goes to the fight against cancer.)
• Jan. 17: Swimming Upstream. Recording Dorothy’s podcast at Lakewood Senior Center, noon-3 p.m.
• Jan. 18: Book signing of “True Tales of Puget Sound” at the Lakewood Barnes & Noble, 1 p.m.-4 p.m.

This story was originally published January 5, 2020 at 5:30 AM with the headline "Columnist discovers the power of the press."