In article <5d00ih$gsh@nnrp1.news.primenet.com>, nickb@primenet.com (Nick

S Bensema) wrote:

> See, I am blessed with an almost entirely unique last name.  I've never

> been waiting for a table when I hear my name called and I run into another

> Bensema waiting for his table.  I've never watched a movie and spotted my

> name anywhere in the credits, or even used as the name of a planet in

> science fiction.  I've never seen billboards, storefronts, or even

> cardboard boxes that have my last name on them.  There are probably less

> than two dozen Bensemas alive today in the entire country. 

Yes. Well.  The Americanization of your name (in part) explains the

trouble you have had finding others from your blighted family tree.

I suggest you check the Middle East, where a thriving (though underground)

community of Ben Semas exists even today.  The shame of the family derives

from the name itself.  Ben Sema (Son of Sema, sema, from the Greek "seme"

meaning "sign")  was the appellation given to those descended in a direct

line from Gerry Seme, generally thought to have died outside Hebron in

22AD.

Gerry had part-timed as a shepherd years before near Bethlehem, and

overheard a Big Noise saying "...let this be a sign unto you!" one night

while cheesing with his buddies about the lack of job benefits.  Gerry

felt, incorrectly as it turns out, that he was no dummy, and spent his

last drachma trying to get a sign business off the ground.  Unfortunately,

he was inspired to specialize in spare-tire covers that proclaimed

"ReTired at Last!" and fake-wood hanging slats that could be personalized

to read: "Ruth and Martin's L'il 'Bago!"  or "Jim and Mary Say 'Hi!' From

LaCrosse!" He was a visionary, of course, but died broke and reviled,

clutching a sign that read:  "Jesus is My Co-Pilot!"

None of his offspring, even unto the hundredth generation, has amounted to

anything.  Even Schlomo Ben Seme, who bravely struck out for America and

was transubstantiated into Sam Bensema at Ellis Island, could do no more

than eke out a living cold-stamping "EXIT" and "Watch Your Step!" onto the

dingy brick walls of tenements on the lower East side of Manhattan.

One of the last of the dwindling clan in the United States fell or was

pushed off the "HollywoodLand" sign in the hills above L.A. in 1948.

I sincerely hope this account, produced after exhaustive research at no

charge from me, helps you to attain a precious sense of connectedness with

your rich, if unfortunate, family history.

Warmest personal regards,

Darla

--- a recent convert