Some personal histories from our case books
The task of tracing missing beneficiaries is seldom straightforward. For the factors that cause families to lose contact usually involve complex issues – from wars and emigration to bitter quarrels, divorce, even new laws about Civil Unions.
As a result our researchers often need to combine the tenacity of a private detective with the discretion of a priest.
Through the Iron Curtain
With the borders to Eastern Europe open, families once split by the Cold War are able to meet again. Typically they will be now-elderly brothers and sisters from Poland, Russia and the Ukraine who bade their last tearful farewells under Nazi or Soviet occupation – but later feared to make contact for fear of repercussions on relatives still behind the Iron Curtain. Hoopers international networks enable us to bring the right people together, accompanying a bit of sad news with a bit of good news.
Son becomes daughter
We knew three facts about Alun Davies: one, he probably lived in Wales –two, he was entitled to benefit from his late father’s will – and three, he was divorced. We quickly found the home in Wales of his former wife. She redirected us to another address, where we learned a fourth fact: a well-built woman confirmed: “I used to be Alun – but I’m Alice now.” Our final step in this investigation was to confirm that the testator, who had not altered his will in favour of “my son” following the gender change, had in fact continued to regard the beneficiary as his male child.
Pursued by shotgun
One of our researchers traced a family of Teesside farmers to a lonely farmhouse on the moors of north-east England. But before he could explain the purpose of his visit, a woman armed with a shotgun literally chased him off the premises. Her husband calmed her down and pointing vaguely into the distance explained the hostilities: “We have a dispute with my brother over our father's farm and my wife thought you came from over there.”
Fight over woman
As with any civil war, family quarrels can prove the most bitter. When two brothers literally fought over a woman, one knocked out the other – then immediately emigrated to New Zealand. When, many years later, we told him he was entitled to his dead brother’s fortune, the barrel-chested old man would barely admit the relationship: “I last saw my brother 50 years ago, when I knocked him out in a fist fight. I still hate him!”
Behind bars
We traced one beneficiary to prison, where he was serving a sentence for attempting to kill his wife. The man had lost his head when he learned that she married him only because she was desperate to get a father’s name on her unborn child’s birth certificate.
Under the M4
Our researcher will never forget the deadpan response from a member of the McVitie family when asked for the whereabouts of brother John (at stake were shares in a distant cousin’s estate): “Jack the Hat? He’s propping up the M4 now.”
Dirty work
The nature of our work often reveals the consequences of family rifts. For example, having to get close to a filthy, lice-ridden tramp long estranged from his family and living rough near a canal in the Midlands, in order to persuade him to sign essential documents.
With the borders to Eastern Europe open, families once split by the Cold War are able to meet again. Typically they will be now-elderly brothers and sisters from Poland, Russia and the Ukraine who bade their last tearful farewells under Nazi or Soviet occupation – but later feared to make contact for fear of repercussions on relatives still behind the Iron Curtain. Hoopers international networks enable us to bring the right people together, accompanying a bit of sad news with a bit of good news.
Son becomes daughter
We knew three facts about Alun Davies: one, he probably lived in Wales –two, he was entitled to benefit from his late father’s will – and three, he was divorced. We quickly found the home in Wales of his former wife. She redirected us to another address, where we learned a fourth fact: a well-built woman confirmed: “I used to be Alun – but I’m Alice now.” Our final step in this investigation was to confirm that the testator, who had not altered his will in favour of “my son” following the gender change, had in fact continued to regard the beneficiary as his male child.
Pursued by shotgun
One of our researchers traced a family of Teesside farmers to a lonely farmhouse on the moors of north-east England. But before he could explain the purpose of his visit, a woman armed with a shotgun literally chased him off the premises. Her husband calmed her down and pointing vaguely into the distance explained the hostilities: “We have a dispute with my brother over our father's farm and my wife thought you came from over there.”
Fight over woman
As with any civil war, family quarrels can prove the most bitter. When two brothers literally fought over a woman, one knocked out the other – then immediately emigrated to New Zealand. When, many years later, we told him he was entitled to his dead brother’s fortune, the barrel-chested old man would barely admit the relationship: “I last saw my brother 50 years ago, when I knocked him out in a fist fight. I still hate him!”
Behind bars
We traced one beneficiary to prison, where he was serving a sentence for attempting to kill his wife. The man had lost his head when he learned that she married him only because she was desperate to get a father’s name on her unborn child’s birth certificate.
Under the M4
Our researcher will never forget the deadpan response from a member of the McVitie family when asked for the whereabouts of brother John (at stake were shares in a distant cousin’s estate): “Jack the Hat? He’s propping up the M4 now.”
Dirty work
The nature of our work often reveals the consequences of family rifts. For example, having to get close to a filthy, lice-ridden tramp long estranged from his family and living rough near a canal in the Midlands, in order to persuade him to sign essential documents.
Joined the Navy
Sometimes untangling cases can prove complicated. A man who was born in South Africa but died in Southend, eastern England, had a common Boer family name. Although records in South Africa are usually good, this made a birth certificate exceptionally difficult to pin down. But our researcher discovered that he had worked in the Merchant Navy, and his navy records were accepted as proving his identify –so enabling us to trace his heirs.
Order out of chaos
Tracking down a family with relatives in America took our researcher to a village in Greece, near the Albanian border, where the deceased had been born. Having arranged to meet two possible beneficiaries in a bar later that evening, our researcher was confronted by more than 40 people – all claiming to be related, and only two of whom spoke English: an obviously crooked local lawyer and a girl who had studied in London. Despite the chaos of 40 people all speaking at once, our man established that half of them were not relatives at all.
Applying the human touch
One wartime incident led to a sad encounter: we traced an elderly widow, to tell her that she was entitled to the estate of her prematurely dead son. At first she denied ever having such a child. But eventually, helped by our researcher’s gentle probing, she admitted through sobs that he was the result of a one-night stand, whom she had never acknowledged. Even now she was afraid what her grown-up family would think of her…In fact they comforted and supported her; a happy ending after all.
Fruits of bigamy
One case dating back to the First World War involved an Aussie soldier. Wounded in France he was nursed back to health in England, where he married, had a son – but later disappeared back to Australia. When his English son died, we had to untangle the records. These revealed that his English marriage had been bigamous. We brought the news to the Australian’s remaining family Down Under, one of whom said: “Granddad never wanted to talk about his wartime experiences – now we know why.”
Back from the dead
We once brought a family member back from the dead! A woman had been alone in the family’s Midlands home when it was blitzed during the Second World War and none of her family realised she had survived. We traced her brother to Central London and showed him an old photograph. He recognised his sister at once, saying: “Poor Lily, they got her when they bombed Coventry Cathedral.” Our researcher then told him that she was still alive, and had been for half a century! He just burst into tears. I checked with the sister that she would be happy to meet – and they had an incredible reunion.
Sometimes untangling cases can prove complicated. A man who was born in South Africa but died in Southend, eastern England, had a common Boer family name. Although records in South Africa are usually good, this made a birth certificate exceptionally difficult to pin down. But our researcher discovered that he had worked in the Merchant Navy, and his navy records were accepted as proving his identify –so enabling us to trace his heirs.
Order out of chaos
Tracking down a family with relatives in America took our researcher to a village in Greece, near the Albanian border, where the deceased had been born. Having arranged to meet two possible beneficiaries in a bar later that evening, our researcher was confronted by more than 40 people – all claiming to be related, and only two of whom spoke English: an obviously crooked local lawyer and a girl who had studied in London. Despite the chaos of 40 people all speaking at once, our man established that half of them were not relatives at all.
Applying the human touch
One wartime incident led to a sad encounter: we traced an elderly widow, to tell her that she was entitled to the estate of her prematurely dead son. At first she denied ever having such a child. But eventually, helped by our researcher’s gentle probing, she admitted through sobs that he was the result of a one-night stand, whom she had never acknowledged. Even now she was afraid what her grown-up family would think of her…In fact they comforted and supported her; a happy ending after all.
Fruits of bigamy
One case dating back to the First World War involved an Aussie soldier. Wounded in France he was nursed back to health in England, where he married, had a son – but later disappeared back to Australia. When his English son died, we had to untangle the records. These revealed that his English marriage had been bigamous. We brought the news to the Australian’s remaining family Down Under, one of whom said: “Granddad never wanted to talk about his wartime experiences – now we know why.”
Back from the dead
We once brought a family member back from the dead! A woman had been alone in the family’s Midlands home when it was blitzed during the Second World War and none of her family realised she had survived. We traced her brother to Central London and showed him an old photograph. He recognised his sister at once, saying: “Poor Lily, they got her when they bombed Coventry Cathedral.” Our researcher then told him that she was still alive, and had been for half a century! He just burst into tears. I checked with the sister that she would be happy to meet – and they had an incredible reunion.