What’s in a Name? Meeting Another Wayne Karl

For most of my life, I thought my first and middle name, Wayne Karl, made me one of a kind. Wayne had a classic ring to it—strong, steady, dependable. Karl felt distinctive —a nod to something older, maybe European — though I never met anyone who shared the same pairing.

That changed on my recent Viking cruise. Somewhere between the daily excursions and dinner conversations, I met another man named Wayne Karl. Not long after, I met an Eric Wayne—and for the first time, I found myself surrounded by variations of my own name. It sparked a reflection that any genealogist would appreciate: names are more than identifiers—they’re threads that weave through generations.

Each name carries a legacy. Sometimes it honors a family member or cultural tradition; other times, it’s simply a name our parents liked the sound of. Yet even when we believe our names are unique, we discover others who share them, reminding us that identity is both personal and shared.

In genealogy, we often trace names through census records, family Bibles, and oral histories. A familiar name might reappear across centuries—a hint of continuity or an echo of remembrance. Meeting another Wayne Karl reminded me of that very truth: even the rarest of names can resurface, connecting lives that may seem worlds apart.

Maybe it was a coincidence—or maybe, as I like to believe, it was a gentle reminder from my ancestors that no name, and no story, truly stands alone.

Closing Reflection:

So, to the other Wayne Karl and Eric Wayne out there—thank you for reminding me that the study of names isn’t just about history. It’s about connection, legacy, and the unexpected ways our stories overlap.