I was researching my family tree and I was running into dull penciled hand writing from 1864 in Hickory Ill. 

 This was at the Little Rock Ar. State capitol. I had moved to Little Rock for a Job.  

They had a room for people interested in that. 

Microfilm and a big monitor you peered into reading old school handwriting. Slanted and dull penciled. Frustrating.  

In the Navy, I was dubbed "the Honorary Wop" and hung out with the Italians. They kept saying I was Sicilian. I was proud, 

I felt pretty welcome and even started picking up a Brooklyn accent.  Being a Beer and proud of my heritage, I had ordered a 

family crest and it came back "Bear" and that wasn't going to work. I sent it back and was quiet about that. I had taken German


in school, endured 3 years of Lutheran confirmation classes. (it's normally only 2 but, I wasn't into it and had to repeat it.)  

One day I sat down and ordered a 23 and me  test. It came really fast and I did the saliva test and hoped I did it correct. 

A few weeks later I received an e-mail. I wasn't German at all. I called my little sister and said "Did you know we aren't German?" 

A long pause followed by "do you really want to know?" 



"What, what?"  Well, according to my little sister, my Dad had wanted to start a trucking business and his partner missed work one day 

and, here I am. While we were talking she told me the name that mom had confided in her. I googled it then spokeo and found "Leonard Guercio" 

I was at the post office and sent a letter 20 min. later to Leonard Guercio in Niles Il.

I paced the floor and couldn't sleep. Day after day I checked the mail. No return letter. One day a cpl of weeks later I looked at my 

phone and noticed I had missed a call and, there was voice mail. It was a Phoenix area code. "Scott, I got your letter. I'm not your father" 

followed by a long pause and "but, I know the story, call me" 

I called "Carl Guercio" and it was like we knew each other in a distant unexplainable way. I drove to Phoenix and met "Uncle Carl" he explained 

that Ron "Dad" and "Lenny" were best friends. He was my sisters God Father. Both Lenny and I had wrestled in high school and went into the Navy. 

While I was in Carl's kitchen he said "I need to make a call" he picked up his cordless phone. "Jo, Carl. I think this is Lenny's kid" S

o, I spoke to "Aunt Jo" and she said she'd like to meet me. I was on my way to Niles Ill. With a side trip to Little Rock to spend Thanksgiving 

with my daughter. 

When I got to Niles, I was greeted by Aunt Jo and uncle Ron. Lenny had passed away from Cancer. Lenny was an inventor and I am an inventor. 

After about an hour of talking, visiting and just repeating "is this really happening?" Aunt Jo asked if I'd like to see a picture of my father? 

It was the weirdest sensation I have ever experienced. I literally felt leave my face then return. I thought they had taken my picture. 

That was me and my red Pendelton.  "No, that's your father" aunt Jo said" I had to drive back to California and I had Grandma's passed 

down recipe spaghetti sauce. It was incredible. I was in an Italian home, eating Italian food no, I was in the Family's home eating OUR 

families traditional recipe. We hugged and promised to keep in touch and we call and write. 

Uncle Carl called. "Hey, have you heard of "The Buckinghams? Or Blood Sweat and Tears? Beach Boys? Chicago?" "Yes uncle, Carl, what about them?"

 "Well, your cousin James William Guercio was in them and started the band Chicago. You two need to meet. He was Zappa's first guitar player too" 
  


Scott Beer
Cell 831-242-1091