From My Basement to Bangkok: How a 50-Year-Old Letter Spurred a Quest for My Long-Lost Uncle

My mom huffed as she yanked open the rusted filing cabinet in the basement. "This thing's been here for a decade. Time to go through it, Nick!" This was the third time she asked me to clean it since I got home to O’Fallon, Missouri last week and I had already put it off the previous two times I visited. Needing a break from writing anyway, I told her I'd tackle it for a few hours last Wednesday afternoon.

The five-drawer cabinet was my dad's and I had already gone through it after his death in 2015, mainly looking for information on 401(k)s or insurance policies I might not have known about. My dad, Kevin Maddock, was a filing fanatic and would save every piece of mail he received, including pay stubs from decades ago.

As I started sorting through the files, I found myself tossing large chunks straight into the trash. I doubt I'll ever need his 1990 taxes or union membership rulebooks. Scanning over the folders one by one, a large manila envelope stood out. I yanked it out.

"Joe Maddock," it said. I'd never seen this before, but I certainly knew the name.

Joe Maddock

Joe Maddock was my grandpa, my dad's dad. However, my dad and I never actually knew Joe. We only laid eyes on him once, in 2006, as he lay in his casket. I'll never forget my dad's words as he looked down at the body of the man who abandoned him as a newborn. "You sure as hell didn't acknowledge me during life, so you can stay with me for eternity in death," my dad said, a rare tear in his eye, as he placed his birth certificate in the coffin.

Joe's new family was in disbelief, having no idea that my dad, or our entire family, existed. They welcomed us with open arms, especially since my father was Joe's closest living biological relative. They even presented my dad with Joe's military flag at the funeral and allowed him to take keepsakes from the house—which I assumed were in this envelope.

I scattered the envelope's contents across my kitchen table and started digging through. There wasn't much—a dozen or so papers, certificates, and some passports. The passports caught my eye first. Apparently, Joe was an engineer who had worked in Iran, Thailand, the United Arab Emirates, Oman, and Saudi Arabia. I guess now I know where I get that from…

Then I noticed a small folded letter with handwriting that seemed out of place from the rest of the documents. As I unfolded it, two baby photos fell out onto the table. Perplexed, I began to read:

"20th March '74

To Mr. Joe Maddock

This is a third letter that I and my sister write to you. I think that you got our letter already. Why you did not write a letter to tell us where are you? What you told my sister before you leave Thailand? Why you did not do everything which you tell her? She told me that you told her you will come back to Bangkok, Thailand. Now she has a baby with you. She and her baby wait for you. Your baby is a boy. He is a good boy, very easy to take care of him. He only cries when he is hungry. Now he is four months. He looks like and same as you. See! Same-same you everything. Everybody in my family likes him very much.

Please you tell us if you get our letter and write a letter to us. Don't forget your baby waits for his Dad. I cannot write a big long letter, which I want.

Bye, Bye. Me thing of you.

I and my sister's baby."

Add.

Chalame Kromsuriyasukadi

28 Grace Mansion Sukumvit 40 Bangkok, Thailand

"Holy shit…" I said, fixated on the letter and its implications, even scaring my mom with the look of disbelief on my face.

"I have an uncle in Thailand…" I told her.

"What!?" she exclaimed, "My God, I can't even be surprised after what he did to your dad. You probably have uncles all over the world."

The letter, written by the aunt of the baby, didn't mention her sister's name or the child's name, which would make finding him extremely difficult.

I paused for a moment. The letter was written in March 1974 and said the baby was 4 months old. That would likely make him born in December 1973. He would be 50 years old. At that age, two more questions arose: Was he still alive? Would he even want to be contacted?

For a moment, I stopped thinking about my uncle and thought about my dad. Why wouldn't he tell me? I pretend it's a question that needs pondering, but truthfully, I knew why. Joe abandoning my dad was something that always haunted him. My mom, for years, would secretly write to Joe and receive no response. Any time she tried to get my dad to find him or confront him, given that he lived here in the St. Louis area, she was met with a swift and forceful no. My dad didn't want to touch it; he wanted Joe to remain the mysterious villain who could take the blame for all his life problems. And a villain Joe was, in my eyes. Especially knowing now that he had abandoned not one, but two young boys in this world, as well as my dad's sister, Aunt Barb.

Either way, I was determined to find my uncle and at least make contact. If I found him, the rest could be dictated by him.

First, I checked my 23&Me DNA test I took years back to see if any Thai relatives had popped up. Nothing. Next, I frantically searched social media for any trace of the aunt's last name and someone who matched Joe's appearance. I did find some interesting profiles, but birthdays or other attributes didn't quite align. I googled the address, and it seemed that it no longer existed. Ironically, it was mere blocks from where I had frequently visited and stayed in downtown Bangkok.

Finally, I took to posting the letter and photos on social media. I shared them on Instagram, Threads, and Reddit, not knowing what to expect. Immediately, the posts took off, especially in Thailand, where over 12,000 people shared my story in hopes of helping me connect the dots.

Messages started flooding in—so many that it was hard to keep track. People were sending me links to different social media profiles that might match or to other people's profiles who said they thought they knew who it was. I was chasing down several rabbit holes.

Meanwhile, a Reddit user named OK-Radio3819 (lol), with a completely blank profile created 10 hours prior, messaged me, "I am the baby in the photo."

Sure, dude.

Photo from Reddit User

The same guy even followed up with what he said was a photo of Joe Maddock, which pretty much just showed the back of a guy's head working in a shop. Not convincing, especially when he said something about the letter his "mom wrote." It was the baby's aunt, not mom.

On Friday evening, I kept looking for more clues that could help me find my uncle while monitoring the flood of messages still coming in. In the envelope was also a DVD containing photos of Joe that his new family had made for his funeral in 2006. I pulled out a dusty disc scanner from the closet and played it on the TV. As the photos rolled by, I had mixed emotions of pity and anger, knowing he was a normal human like all of us, but also registering what he had done to his three children. It wasn't a long video because he didn't have many photos. Joe died mostly alone, some (me!) would say it was deserved.

Photo from Funeral DVD

About halfway through the memorial DVD, my eyes widened so far they could've fallen out of their sockets… I saw a photo of Joe, and the background was instantly recognizable. I pressed pause and then pulled out my phone and held up the photo that OK-Radio3819 had sent of the back of that guys head...

The same shop. The same clothing. The same haircut. The same guy.

Right then, I knew… I had found my uncle.

Before I told anyone what I had found, including the OK-Radio3819, I sat with it for a moment. He was alive. And there was something extremely comforting about knowing there was another piece of my father out there. Maybe somehow, I could relate to my dad, who I missed so much since his death in 2015, through his half-brother.

The next day, I shared with my now-confirmed uncle what I had found and that I now knew it was him. He said it was his first time using Reddit and he was very confused. His profile was new because his family had sent him the original link to my Reddit post. I told him we could move to Facebook and chat more there. He sent his Facebook profile, and sure enough, it was the same profile of a man I had looked at Thursday evening when scouting social media. However, his birthday didn't align with the letter details, so I initially dismissed him.

OK-Radio3819, otherwise known as "Noom," is 53 years old and has been looking for info on his dad for decades. He was alerted about the Reddit post through a family member who was contacted because they have the same last name. He lives a peaceful life in Thailand and still resides with his Aunt Chaleme, who is 78 years old now and wrote this now-famed letter 50 years ago.

Noom, his baby photo, and his dad

Noom didn't know much about Joe beyond his name and the two blurry photos his mom gave him. His mom, unfortunately, died many years ago. Noom learned through me that he had a half-sister and three nephews here in the United States. And despite Joe being the piece of shit he was, Noom had not been forgotten by the Maddock family as a whole.

While discussing this wild situation, he made one comment that I'm most thankful for. He said, "You did the right thing. I am very glad to have met and know each other. It's been a very long time since I've wanted to hear news from you."

I'm thankful I didn't just sit on this letter. Not just for myself, but for Noom too. I know my dad was fearful of digging up the insecurities of his past as it relates to his father, and he had every right to be. I'm sure he thought the baby boy in that photo would share the same sentiment. But if there is one thing I learned from this experience, through the thousands of messages I’ve received across various social media platforms that included other people's personal stories, it’s that everyone views the significance of their blood family differently, based on their life experiences and values. I am just glad that in this case, my uncle and I were aligned.

The experiences with my family and my travels through the world meeting so many families from different walks of life have taught me to love, honor, and cherish family more than anything. Unless they give you a compelling reason not to.

I don't know what the future holds for my family and Noom, but I'm confident that it’s not the end of this story.