GATES: I'm Henry Louis Gates Jr.

Welcome to "Finding Your Roots."

In this episode, we'll meet musician Rubén Blades and journalist, Natalie Morales.

Both are hoping to learn secrets that their ancestors tried to hide.

MORALES: There's always a story that you don't know, and she had many stories that I think we don't know.

BLADES: I love the fact that I, I'm getting to know my background 'cause I, I had no clue whatsoever, I don't, I never knew any of this.

GATES: To uncover their roots, we've used every tool available.

Genealogists comb through paper trails, stretching back hundreds of years while DNA experts utilize the latest advances in genetic analysis to reveal secrets that have lain hidden for generations.

MORALES: Wild, that is incredible.

GATES: And we've compiled everything into a Book of Life, a record of all of our discoveries.

BLADES: Holy macaroni.

GATES: And a window into the hidden past.

MORALES: I was afraid you would find this.

(laughter).

BLADES: My goodness.

I've seen this show before, and I've seen people in this position, and I tell you it's really astonishing.

GATES: My guest came to me knowing that their ancestors were born in countries all over Latin America, but the names and the stories of those ancestors had been lost.

In this episode, that's going to change, as Natalie and Rubén will see for the very first time where their roots really lie.

(theme music playing).

♪ ♪ (book closes).

♪ ♪ GATES: Rubén Blades is a living legend, the beloved salsa music superstar has written dozens of his songs, sold millions of records, and won more than 20 Grammy awards.

He's also found fame as an actor and had a significant impact as a politician and social activist in his native Panama.

But in person, Rubén is modest and soft-spoken, and he credits his success to a series of happy accidents, beginning in his childhood when he grew up listening to an eclectic mix of music, largely because there was no other option.

BLADES: There was no television.

So we had the radio on in the house all day and because it was Panama, we could hear music from all over the world.

GATES: Huh.

BLADES: The DJs were not constricted by certain type of music, they just played whatever they wanted to play, and nobody cared, uh, that the fact that there was a song in Spanish, a song in English, a song in French, you know, different rhythms.

So after a while, you get to start singing on top of the songs my mother sang, but we didn't have a piano in the house, she, she was a piano player and a singer, but we didn't have a piano in the house, and we couldn't afford a piano at the time.

And, um, so I, I sang things that I heard on the radio, and I realized that it was, it made me happy.

GATES: That realization sent Rubén on a circuitous journey.

After writing songs as a teenager, he recorded an album for a salsa label in New York City, but it didn't sell and Rubén found himself back home, studying to become a lawyer.

Then came the watershed moment in his life.

In 1973, just as he was about to graduate, political turmoil in Panama, compelled his parents to move to Miami and Rubén chose to follow them.

A decision that at first seemed like a mistake.

BLADES: When I was in Florida, my family was having a lot of trouble, my father couldn't get a job.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

BLADES: My mother got a job at Burdines.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

BLADES: Which was a store there and I felt useless, my diploma meant nothing.

And, uh, I didn't know what to do.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

BLADES: And then I remembered finding Fania Records, which was like the Motown of salsa at the time.

And I called Fania and I said, "Hey, um, I wrote a song that Richie Ray recorded and, um, Ismael Miranda recorded this song, and I did an album, and..." You know, "Is it okay, if I, do you need a singer, a writer?"

And they said, "No."

(laughter).

And, and oh, right before I, I hung up and this remember always this, think before you hang up, one more question, "Sir, um, is there any work there?"

And they said, there's a job in a mail room.

And I said, "Okay, um, what, what do you have to do?"

And then they told me what it was.

I said, "I can do that."

And I said, "How much does it pay?"

"125 bucks a week?"

I said, "I'll take it."

GATES: Rubén didn't stay in the mail room long.

He was soon collaborating with some of the biggest salsa artists of his day and within a year, his career was launched.

Of course, he still faced obstacles.

Many of his songs had strong social messages, which were not always popular with his producers.

But after coming so far, Rubén knew his audience, and above all, he knew what he wanted as an artist.

BLADES: I was not interested in being famous.

So I wasn't interested in like, "Okay, I'm gonna write, what's a hit?"

What is a hit?

"Oh, I need a hook and I need this."

I was never, ever, never thought of that way.

I wrote stuff that I thought would interest people because they interested me.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

BLADES: And I always felt we all go through the same thing.

So I figured if I'm interested in it, you will be interested in it.

GATES: Right.

BLADES: So I wrote about stuff, and then this is what happened at my age, now, I'm still singing material that I wrote 45 years ago, because the, the stories continue to, to occur.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

BLADES: So if I wrote a song about somebody's having a, a situation or a problem, whatnot, now their sons in the position of their fathers and mothers.

GATES: Right.

BLADES: So they make the song theirs.

GATES: So you write, um, music about the human condition.

BLADES: Absolutely, absolutely.

GATES: My second guest is Emmy award-winning journalist Natalie Morales.

Much like Rubén, Natalie has Latin roots and a peripatetic childhood story.

Her mother is Brazilian, her father Puerto Rican and she spent her first 18 years moving wherever her father's military career demanded.

Along the way, Natalie became fascinated with the news, even if being on camera herself seemed highly unlikely.

MORALES: My dad is an avid "60 Minutes" watcher, so it was always in our house.

And my dad having also, uh, he served in Operation Desert Storm.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

MORALES: And so that was, you know, a current event that was actually happening in my life.

GATES: Right.

MORALES: But I never thought of a career in journalism because I didn't see that for myself.

I didn't see people like me necessarily doing, you know, reporting.

GATES: People like you, meaning?

MORALES: People like me, I mean, I guess, you know, growing up, um, there weren't a lot of "Morales."

GATES: Mm-hmm.

MORALES: You know, there wasn't a lot of Latinas... GATES: Mm-hmm.

MORALES: On television and beyond that, um, I think just women in general had a hard time.

Like I did not see a lot of women in, in that role until later on in college.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

MORALES: And that's when I saw, you know, the Katie Couric's of the world, Barbara Walters.

GATES: Hmm.

MORALES: And that put a spark in me and I think by the end of my second year in college, I was like, that's what I'm doing.

GATES: Once Natalie had made up her mind, nothing could stop her.

In an industry where many journalists struggled to find work, she rapidly moved from a reporting gig in Hartford to an anchor spot at MSNBC, an astronomic rise.

But Natalie's first day on her new job wasn't at all what she expected.

Just as she was about to go on air, a major news story broke in the Middle East, and suddenly Natalie had to improvise.

MORALES: They handed me a batch of scripts, and then right when I sat down, they said, see all those scripts, throw them out.

And I had a incredible producer in my ear, Lisa Peña, I'll never forget her, and she just was like, very calm, guiding me through it.

"Natalie, now you're gonna talk to Andrea Mitchell."

I'm like "The Andrea Mitchell?

I'm going to, I'm gonna throw to Andrea Mitchell, okay."

"And then when we come out, you can ask her a couple of questions, take your time with her."

GATES: Mm-hmm.

MORALES: And then we had the spokesperson for the Palestinian Authority on with us.

I mean, these are people that I never thought I'd be speaking within my first hour of live news television.

GATES: Mmm.

MORALES: Yeah, it was, phew.

GATES: Trial, trial.

MORALES: I still sweat when I think about it, trial by fire.

GATES: Happily, Natalie survived that trial and has never looked back.

Over the past three decades, she's found success as a reporter an anchor, and most recently as a talk show host.

But for all she's accomplished, Natalie remains very much a product of her upbringing and the values instilled in her by her parents.

MORALES: You know, every day I go out there, I'm a reflection of who they are.

I mean, they are going to make me get emotional, I mean, my parents are the hardest-working people.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

MORALES: My mom put herself through college.

Her, her mom pretty much gave her up to be raised by her paternal grandmother because she wasn't ready to be a mother yet.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

MORALES: And my mom became one of many children that my, uh, you know, that was raised by her paternal grandmother and, um, in a very loving home.

But she never really had that upbringing of having a mother hug her and love her and be patient with her.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

MORALES: And thank God I did, I have, I have that... GATES: Yeah.

MORALES: And I give that to my kids now.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

MORALES: And my dad is, I mean, he is as strong and macho as they come.

He's a Lieutenant Colonel in the Air Force, Mario Morales.

Um, and I like to think I get my strength from him, and I get a little bit of my edge from him.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

MORALES: And probably a little bit of my Latin temper from him too.

But, you know, they both have taught me that nothing comes free in life, you have to work hard for it... GATES: Mm-hmm.

MORALES: You have to every day wake up, prove yourself over and over again.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

MORALES: And I think as a journalist, I think more so than ever, like, I, I thought, oh, at some point, I could just coast in my career, right?

GATES: Mm-hmm.

MORALES: Never, never.

GATES: No.

MORALES: You know, jobs come and go, but you're always proving yourself day in and day out.

GATES: Meeting my guests, it was clear that while each felt a deep connection to their roots, they also had fundamental questions about their ancestors.

It was time to provide some answers.

I started with Rubén Blades growing up, he was very close to his father's mother, his paternal grandmother, a woman named Emma Aizpuru.

But he knew nothing about his father's father.

So he developed a kind of fantasy life about him.

BLADES: My father's dark, so I had this idea that my grandfather was like one of these Black laborers that worked in the canal.

Then I remember, uh, being told that he was an accountant, and I thought "An accountant?"

That was kind of like a letdown.

(laughs).

You know it's like, an accountant?

I thought he was like, you know, this is just working guys.

I, I wrote a song called "West Indian Man..." GATES: Uh-huh.

BLADES: And, and it was idealizing my grandfather, like this working guy in the canal.

(laughter).

GATES: Did your grandmother ever, ever say anything about your father's father?

BLADES: Never said a word other than he was a, um, she didn't wanna have anything to do with him.

GATES: Mm.

BLADES: So that was it.

GATES: According to Rubén's family, his grandfather's name was Rubén Nathaniel Blades, and that was all the information they could provide.

We wanted to learn more and started by comparing Rubén's DNA profile to millions of other profiles in publicly available databases looking for matches to relatives of this mysterious man.

We expected to find a large number of matches, but what we actually found took us by surprise.

Would you please read the number in red on your right?

BLADES: Whoa, zero.

GATES: Zero, so you know what that means?

That means that Rubén Nathaniel Blades is not your biological grandfather.

BLADES: Whoa.

GATES: And thus, biologically, my friend, you are not a Blades.

BLADES: Whoa, no idea about this.

GATES: This discovery, of course, raised a new question, who was Rubén's biological grandfather?

There were no records to tell us.

Fortunately, we still had DNA.

Rubén's father passed away in 2023, but he'd taken a DNA test the year before.

And because he's one generation closer to his father, we focused on analyzing his results.

And this led us to an incredible conclusion, Rubén's biological grandfather is a man named Ricardo Miró, a name that Rubén recognized instantly.

BLADES: Ricardo Miró is like the biggest poet of Panama.

GATES: You got it.

I told you biologically, you're not a Blades, you are a Miró.

BLADES: Holy crap.

(sighs).

Incredible.

GATES: Hmm.

BLADES: This is gonna be a bomb in Panama.

Well, it's a bomb for me, but I'm saying, gee whiz.

GATES: Rícardo Miró is Panama's most beloved poet.

Born in 1883, he came of age during a time of unrest and wrote a series of poems celebrating the natural beauty of his homeland and the unique character of its people.

His best-known work, a poem called "Patria," or "Fatherland," is still widely read in Panama schools, even to this day.

BLADES: I know that I'm gonna be thinking about this, uh, more clearly later on, but this is, it's almost like unbelievable, especially given the fact of who is who this man is.

GATES: Mmm.

BLADES: And what does he represent in, in Panama, uh, and, and in Latin America, in Panama especially.

GATES: Oh, yeah.

BLADES: And, and again, you make a connection, of course, you know, there you go, your grandfather was Miró and you were writing all these songs... GATES: Of course.

BLADES: And you were writing all these things, you know?

GATES: Like you had no choice.

BLADES: It's like, it's of course, it's gonna happen.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

BLADES: Wow.

And, you know, now I look at him, it's like amazing.

GATES: You see resemblance?

BLADES: Somehow.

I, I do a little a, a bit, yeah.

My goodness, this is incredible.

GATES: We don't know anything about the nature of the relationship between Rubén's grandparents, but we did uncover a clue as to how they may have met.

Records suggest that when Rubén's father was conceived, his grandmother, Emma, was helping run a photography business and teaching drawing in Panama City, while Ricardo Miró was working nearby, serving as the director of Panama's National Archives.

BLADES: Oh, wow, they probably met at that some kind of, uh, exhibition of some sort.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

BLADES: Gallery exhibition or a painting exhibition, or a photographic exhibition.

GATES: Yeah.

BLADES: Yeah.

GATES: We don't know for sure, but there's a lot of circumstantial evidence that they had good reason to meet, not only to meet but to be attracted to each other.

BLADES: Absolutely.

GATES: They had similar interests.

BLADES: Absolutely, they did.

Emma was a very educated woman, as a matter of fact, Emma was one of the, uh, the women, not a lot of women graduated from school at the time when there wasn't a university in Panama.

GATES: Right.

BLADES: And Emma had finished, uh, her school, so she was a very cultured woman, and of course, uh, he was a, a cultured man, so.

GATES: Right.

BLADES: You know, it makes perfect sense.

GATES: We wanted to learn more about the roots of Rubén's newfound grandfather, but we hit a wall.

Ricardo is reportedly the grandson of a man named Gregorio Miró Arosemena, who was the president of Panama from 1873 to 1875.

However, Ricardo's father was born to a single mother and at this time, his paternity cannot be confirmed.

So Rubén's connection to Gregorio may be more rumor than fact, even so, the very possibility was tantalizing.

BLADES: I'm so amazed by all this information and the fact that it wasn't shared by anyone before.

GATES: Right.

BLADES: I, I mean, I, I can't tell you.

GATES: How would this have made your father feel?

BLADES: I think my father would've been happy to know who his father was.

I think he would've been very, very happy to know.

Um, I don't know if he did know.

I don't think so.

I really don't think so.

I think he would've told me, but I think my father would've, again, being my father, what I know of him, he just took life as it came.

GATES: Right.

BLADES: He was not a, a, a person to, to dwell on stuff, he would've not condemned his mother at all.

GATES: No.

BLADES: He would've not said anything bad about his mom.

GATES: Right.

BLADES: You know, 'cause she, he loved her and, and she loved him.

And she, and they both help each other.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

BLADES: All throughout our life, I mean, my grandmother was with me all the time.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

BLADES: So I think he would've been happy to know, who wouldn't?

You know, but, um, I think he would've been accepting.

GATES: We had one more detail to share about the Miró family.

The fact that Rubén is Ricardo's grandson also links him to another renowned Panamanian poet, Ricardo's aunt, Amelia Denis de Icaza.

BLADES: No.

GATES: Yep.

BLADES: Holy... wow.

GATES: The first woman to publish poetry in Panama, this is your family, a very distinguished family.

BLADES: My goodness.

GATES: And you can't make this up.

BLADES: No.

GATES: In your wildest dreams, you could not have imagined.

BLADES: No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

It, it may sound now like, "Oh, so normal" or so, "Of course," you know, but it's not at all.

You don't, you don't make that connection at all, I never even dreamed of anything like this.

GATES: And each day, Rubén, that connection will seem more natural, by the way.

BLADES: Oh, absolutely.

GATES: So savor these emotions and sense of wonder.

BLADES: Yeah.

Yeah, it's, I'm more than savoring it.

It is like a delusional.

(makes sound).

My goodness.

GATES: Much like Rubén, Natalie Morales came to me with questions about her paternal grandmother, a woman named Monserrate Ramírez Asencio.

As a child, Natalie spent a good deal of time with Monserrate, but she knew very little about her life, and nothing at all about her roots, the reason Monserrate was simply not forthcoming.

MORALES: I remember once being sick, and she just kind of held me and just cradled me.

And that was the first time I re, really felt love from her.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

MORALES: But otherwise, I felt like she was hard to get to know, um, she was very uptight, and, um, you know, you couldn't open the refrigerator door without asking her permission first.

GATES: Oh, oh wow.

MORALES: I have a feeling like she probably had a very hard upbringing.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

MORALES: And I don't really know much about her and it's sad, 'cause I never really felt like I got that side of her history.

GATES: Natalie's intuitions were correct, her grandmother did not have an easy upbringing.

Monserrate was born in the city of Cabo Rojo, Puerto Rico in July of 1919.

As a child, she helped support her family by working in the local needlepoint industry.

It was a painstaking job, but Monserrate came from a long line of ancestors who had also worked in punishing conditions.

Her father, a man named Nicanor Ramírez grew up on a sugarcane farm and began working in the fields as a teenager.

That was backbreaking work.

MORALES: Mm.

GATES: He would've risen early in the morning to spend long hours every week in the sun doing heavy manual labor hacking at sugar cane socks with machetes.

MORALES: Mm.

GATES: Natalie, you've got two sons... MORALES: Yes.

GATES: Can you imagine them at that age?

MORALES: No, hell to the, no.

(laughter).

Our kids are so privileged and so lucky.

GATES: They go, "What?"

MORALES: They're like sugarcane, they've eaten it, they've had it, you know, we went to Puerto Rico once, they've tried it, but no, I don't think they know what goes into, you know, the little sugar packets that you get at home, you know.

GATES: Digging deeper we saw that Monserrate's father endured more than field labor.

Nicanor lost his own father when he was seven years old, and then in 1918, his mother, Ramona Perez Zapata succumbed to what was called the Spanish Flu, a catastrophic global pandemic.

MORALES: Oh my goodness.

GATES: Did you know you had lost family in the 1918 pandemic?

MORALES: I did not know any of that, no, mm-mm.

GATES: Well, about 50 million lives it's estimated perished worldwide.

MORALES: Wow.

GATES: And on the island, it's estimated that 1% of the population died.

MORALES: Wow.

GATES: Can you imagine?

It must have been terrifying.

MORALES: Terrifying.

Terrifying.

GATES: Because, because it hit you any time, and if you got it, you were gonna die.

MORALES: Yeah.

Tough life, very tough life.

GATES: Yeah.

Ramona left behind four children, including your great-grandfather, Nicanor.

MORALES: Mm-hmm.

GATES: By this time he was 28 years old.

How do you think he felt he'd lost both of his parents before the age of 30?

MORALES: Hmm.

I mean, I, I think life was just much more difficult back in those days.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

MORALES: You know, I think it was, yeah, I mean, to lose your father when you're seven years old and then lose your mother, um, yeah.

I don't think you, I don't think you have a real childhood.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

MORALES: When you lose parents like that.

GATES: We now tried to see what we could learn about this family's deeper roots, and we didn't have to travel far to do it.

Natalie's ancestors lived in the same region of Puerto Rico for centuries, and the archives of the region's churches were a treasure trove for our researchers.

MORALES: Wow.

GATES: Look at that handwriting.

MORALES: I can't even believe that you can read this.

GATES: Yeah.

So this is from the archives of the church, San Miguel Arcángel in Cabo Rojo.

MORALES: Yes.

GATES: Would you please read that translated section?

MORALES: In the year of our Lord 1823 on the 24th of January, I, the parish priest of this Holy Parish church, solemnly baptized a male child who was born on the eighth day of this month, who I named José Nicanor, legitimate son of don Antonio Ramírez and of doña Maria del Rosario Ramírez.

GATES: You just read the baptismal record for your third great-grandfather from over 200 years ago.

Natalie, what's it like to see that?

MORALES: Uh, it's, I mean, it's incredible.

First, I mean, I can't see anything, I can hardly make that out, but it's incredible to look at this and to then imagine what would become and where I am today.

GATES: Right.

MORALES: Yeah.

GATES: Yeah, I mean, you have DNA from that guy.

MORALES: Wow, yeah, unreal.

GATES: Unfortunately, this story was about to darken significantly, as we combed through the archives, we uncovered a census from the year 1872, and it records the human property of Natalie's third great-grandfather, José Nicanor Ramírez y Ramírez.

MORALES: Town is Cabo Rojo, the name of owner, José Nicanor Ramírez y Ramírez.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

MORALES: Name of the slave.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

MORALES: Inocencia, natural of Puerto Rico, residing in barrio Llanos Tuna, laborer, age 22.

Name of slave Wenceslas, laborer, age 20.

So, slave owners.

GATES: Slave owners, did you ever... MORALES: Well, I mean... GATES: Imagine?

MORALES: When you think about the island and the history of the island.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

MORALES: Um, I was afraid you would find this.

(laughter).

GATES: Well, we did.

MORALES: Sadly.

(laughter).

GATES: Natalie is correct, slavery has been woven into Puerto Rico's history since the early 1500s when Spanish colonizers, who had already enslaved much of the island's native population, began importing Sub-Saharan Africans.

By 1872, there were over 500 slave owners on the island, and Natalie's ancestor was one of them.

What's it like to learn that you descend from a man who owned other human beings?

MORALES: You know, it's, it's heartbreaking, I mean, it is, um, yeah, it's that this is what history looked like back then, I guess.

GATES: Mm-hmm, yep.

This all happened in the same town where your grandmother Monserrate... MORALES: Mm-hmm.

GATES: Was born and raised.

Do you think she knew?

MORALES: This would've been her great-grandfather, right?

GATES: Mm-hmm.

MORALES: I don't know, I imagine knowing the history of the island and knowing the slave trade on the island, I imagine you, you think, and if your family was in agriculture or in the sugarcane crop plantation as her family was, it was probably in the background.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

MORALES: Yeah.

GATES: Moving further into the past, we uncovered another story, a truly surprising one.

It concerns Natalie's eighth great-grandfather, a man named Antonio Ramírez de Arellano.

Antonio was born in Puerto Rico in 1653 and joined the Spanish militia during what was known as the golden age of piracy, years in which pirates terrorized the Caribbean.

As a soldier, Antonio was charged with defending his island from these pirates.

And he seems to have done his job, admirably.

Indeed his service is described in detail in a series of eyewitness accounts.

MORALES: Captain Antonio Rodriguez Borrero declared, killed many enemies and pirates.

They forced the enemy's retreat without having taken provisions.

He saw, said Antonio, having used his weapons with such zeal that Antonio Ramírez de Arellano assisted in everything as a courageous soldier.

Wow.

GATES: How does that make you feel to read that?

MORALES: I think this is gonna make my dad really happy.

(laughter).

It explains a lot about the military service and upbringing that he came up with too.

GATES: Yeah.

MORALES: His desire to serve.

GATES: Yeah, far deeper than he could ever... MORALES: Far deeper than he knew.

GATES: Yeah.

MORALES: Yeah, absolutely.

GATES: And your father, as you've suggested, is a kind of in-your-face kind of dude.

MORALES: Yeah.

(laughter).

He'd be like, "Oh, yeah?"

GATES: Yeah.

MORALES: "Well, you don't know about Antonio Ramírez de Arellano."

(laughter).

GATES: After leaving the military, Antonio went on to hold multiple government positions.

But ironically, though he built his career battling pirates, Antonio himself was related to a legendary pirate, a man named Roberto Cofresí.

Roberto is a folk hero in Puerto Rico, celebrated for allegedly giving some of his treasure to the poor.

There are poems and songs about him, and even a statue of him stands in Cobo Rojo.

MORALES: What?

GATES: He is your third cousin, six times removed.

MORALES: Hey cuz!

GATES: Your eighth great-grandfather, Antonio was Roberto's second great-grandfather.

So the pirate fighter connects you to the pirate.

MORALES: Okay.

GATES: He's a famous pirate.

MORALES: Wow.

GATES: And there he is.

MORALES: Okay, and where is this?

This is amazing.

GATES: It's in Cabo Rojo.

MORALES: Cabo Rojo, oh my gosh.

GATES: Isn't that cool?

MORALES: That is so wild.

GATES: And although not a direct ancestor, he's part of your extended family tree.

MORALES: Yes.

GATES: On this line, on your father's side.

MORALES: Incredible.

GATES: How does it make you feel, um, accumulating this knowledge?

I know that you're still processing it... MORALES: Mm-hmm.

GATES: And you will be for a long time, but where there was nothing... MORALES: Nothing before.

GATES: You're back to your eighth great-grandfather and a pirate fighter and a pirate.

MORALES: This is, uh, it's an incredible story.

GATES: Mm.

MORALES: And it's great that it's my story.

(laughter).

GATES: Turning back to Rubén Blades, we focused on a question he'd raised early on in our interview.

The possibility that his father might have had some African ancestry.

We hadn't found any evidence for this in Rubén's grandfather Ricardo's roots, but we were able to trace his grandmother, Emma, back to a man named Ciriaco Correoso.

Ciriaco is Rubén's fourth great-grandfather.

He was born in 1743 in what is now Panama and was then part of the Spanish Empire.

His baptismal record indicates that his mother was a free woman of color, clear evidence that at least one of Rubén's ancestors was brought to the Americas from Africa.

BLADES: That's amazing.

That just cements my thought always that Panama, we have a fusion... GATES: Mm-hmm.

BLADES: Of backgrounds, you know, in this particular case, I had no idea... GATES: Mm-hmm.

BLADES: That my background went that far.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

BLADES: That we have Blacks in our family, of course.

GATES: Right.

BLADES: It's a, it's the Caribbean, it's Panama, it's like, you know, it's a mixture of everything, of course, and I'm glad that I can say that.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

BLADES: Because that's one, one of the ways that you disperse the notion of, of, of, of racism.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

BLADES: It's like, accept this, the fact that people are people and that they're all part of ours, lives every day, uh, for as long as we can imagine.

GATES: Right.

BLADES: You know, it's really amazing.

GATES: While Rubén embraces diversity, his ancestors lived in a very different world.

Colonial Spain had a rigid social order based on race.

And within it, Rubén's ancestor was labeled a "quadroon," meaning that he was a quarter Black, and this would have major consequences on his life.

In 1778, when he was 35 years old, Ciriaco tried to become what was called a public notary, a lucrative office within the colonial government.

It was not an easy position to get.

Applicants had to petition the King of Spain.

A process in which one's place in the racial order mattered tremendously.

Do you think he got the job or not?

BLADES: Uh, I hope he did.

GATES: Okay, let's see.

Please turn the page.

Rubén, this record is also in your ancestor's application, it is dated on the 5th of July, 1778, the same year as the record we just saw.

BLADES: Oh boy.

GATES: Could you please read that translated section?

BLADES: In view of this dossier and according to the compiled laws of the Indies, it is established that mulatos and mestizos cannot be scribes or notaries.

Therefore, given the testimony that Ciriaco Hipólito Correoso is of quadroon color, the disposition of said law precludes him from being a notary public as he requests, therefore, in conformity with it, his pretension is despicable.

GATES: "His pretension is despicable," isn't that cold?

BLADES: It's super cold.

GATES: That is cold.

BLADES: This is what's despicable is what they're doing to this guy.

GATES: To become a public notary, applicants had to present a dossier showing that they did not have any ancestors who were not of pure Spanish descent.

So people with African, Moorish, or Jewish heritage were rejected.

And Ciriaco, of course, could not meet this test.

What's it like to see that in black and white?

BLADES: It's, uh, an unfortunate reality that, uh, has followed us... GATES: Mm-hmm.

BLADES: To this day.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

BLADES: Because I'm sure that there are many, many ways that, that are, that this type of thing, in spite of our laws, continue to be applied.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

BLADES: To people just by, by the way, they look.

GATES: Absolutely.

BLADES: And you know that it happens.

GATES: Yeah.

BLADES: You know, so it's, um, I mean, I feel for him because I, I, this is a person that's trying to advance his life and do something with it and it's being denied because of the same kind of stupid reason that we still find in these days that prevents people from, uh, presenting all they can be because of, of this type of ignorance.

GATES: Fortunately, this was not the end of the story, Ciriaco's father was a man named Domingo Correoso, he likely came from a prominent Spanish family, and though he never married Ciriaco's mother, Domingo acknowledged that Ciriaco was his son, and he seems to have found a way to get his application reevaluated.

Let's see what happens next.

BLADES: Oh man, this is getting better now.

This is getting better and, I want them to win.

GATES: Rubén, this is another record from the year 1778, it is signed on behalf of Carlos III, the King of Spain.

BLADES: Therefore, giving you dispensation as you have requested of the defect... (laughter).

GATES: It's cold, man.

BLADES: It's cold.

Let me start again.

Therefore, giving you dispensation as you have requested, of the defect of being a quadroon as you are, it is my wish and will that you shall be for the rest of your life, my public notary.

GATES: How about that?

BLADES: Who did this?

GATES: The king.

BLADES: The king?

GATES: The king.

Your ancestor succeeded.

His father used his connections to get the judgment overturned.

BLADES: This is incredible.

GATES: What's it like to see this story?

BLADES: I love, I love to see things like this, because, I mean, I can imagine what happened afterwards.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

BLADES: You know?

'Cause first of all, if he did his job right, which I hope he did... GATES: He was, became a prosperous man.

BLADES: Yeah, and then he showed the fallacy... GATES: Yeah.

BLADES: Of the fact that if you're a quadroon, you cannot be efficient.

GATES: Right.

BLADES: And I hope that that helped move... GATES: Mm-hmm.

BLADES: The, the, the, the right, the reasoning that, you know, we shouldn't be doing this type of thing.

GATES: Right.

BLADES: I don't know.

GATES: Probably not.

BLADES: Probably not.

But Panama, you know, again, Panama is always, because it's... GATES: More fluid.

BLADES: Panama, yeah.

GATES: Yeah.

BLADES: It's more fluid.

GATES: We had one more story to share with Rubén, turning to his mother's ancestry we traced his maternal roots from Panama to Cuba to Louisiana.

Where Rubén's third great-grandfather, a man named Louis Ambroise Garidell was born in 1793.

Louis is a fascinating character.

During the War of 1812, he volunteered to serve in a local militia and fought in the legendary Battle of New Orleans, helping to repel a British army from American soil.

But later in his life, Louis did something that was not so honorable.

BLADES: Name of slave owner, L.A. Garidell.

One female, age 55, Black.

One female, age 40, Black.

One female, age 30, Black.

One male, age five, Black.

One male, age three, Black.

Slave owner.

GATES: Slave owner.

BLADES: Whoa.

GATES: By 1850, your third great-grandfather Louis Garidell owned nine human beings.

BLADES: Whoa.

GATES: So think about this on your father's side, your fifth-grade grandmother was a free woman of color.

BLADES: That's yeah.

GATES: On your mother's side, your third great-grandfather owned people of color.

BLADES: Yeah, there you go.

GATES: There you go.

BLADES: It's like, and then, and not only that, this is the thing that you, you find all the time, uh, is the this ying yang scenario.

GATES: Yeah.

BLADES: You know, you have like a guy who's has the courage to fight and whatnot for his freedom, but then he, he doesn't find any contradiction in having and taking the freedom away from other people.

GATES: Yeah.

BLADES: It just doesn't make sense.

You know, it, I guess it makes sense at the time.

GATES: Yeah.

BLADES: For them, but it's, uh, it's very disappointing.

GATES: Louis lived within the city of New Orleans, and we suspect that the people he enslaved were household servants, which means that he likely knew his human property very well, but there's no evidence he ever tried to free any of them.

BLADES: Well, it's, it's always, you know, you always hope that everybody in your background was like, did the right thing.

GATES: Yeah.

BLADES: That's an impossible dream.

GATES: It is, but how do you think Louis was feeling owning other people and living with them in his home?

BLADES: He must have felt comfortable about it, um, you know, I, I, I guess in his time he thought that that was a thing to do.

GATES: Yeah.

BLADES: But, um.

GATES: Well, at the time it was a thing to do.

BLADES: Yeah, but it's, it's, it's, it's still annoying to me personally.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

BLADES: You know, you, you wish that you didn't have that.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

BLADES: But it's, it's, it's a, it's a fact.

GATES: I had one final fact to share with Rubén, a far happier one.

When we compared his genetic profile to that of every other guest who's ever been in our series, we found a match, evidence of a relative that Rubén never knew he had.

A distant cousin whose identity illuminates Rubén's fundamental genetic diversity.

BLADES: Oh wow.

GATES: Please turn the page and meet your DNA cousin.

BLADES: You are kidding me.

GATES: That's Ava DuVernay, the filmmaker.

BLADES: I, we had, we exchanged emails some time ago.

GATES: Really?

BLADES: Yeah.

GATES: And she doesn't know, so you can email her tonight and tell her that your cousins, she will love that.

BLADES: Oh my goodness.

And I will, I certainly will.

GATES: We'd already traced Natalie Morales's father's roots in Puerto Rico, revealing her ties to sugar planters, soldiers, and a notable pirate.

Now turning to her maternal ancestry, we encountered another compelling character.

Natalie's third great-grandfather, a man named Domingos da Silva Oliveira.

Domingos was born in Brazil around 1835, the son of a municipal judge, but he didn't follow in his father's footsteps instead, he became a farmer and according to his obituary, he left behind a significant legacy.

MORALES: A sectarian of liberal ideas, he enjoyed much prestige during the empire.

He had deserved political influence, but he never wanted to hold any office.

He always dedicated himself to farming.

And although he was not wealthy, he lived independently.

He had contracted three marriages.

And from these three marriages, there were 13 children.

Seems like a humble person.

GATES: Yeah, but who was prolific.

MORALES: Prolific.

(laughter).

In many ways.

GATES: That means, that means you have a zillion cousins in Brazil.

MORALES: Marriage and children, yes, he was prolific, yes.

GATES: 13 by three wives.

MORALES: Yes, yes.

GATES: What's it like to read that?

MORALES: You know, it's interesting because a lot of the traits that I read, I'm like, that's like my mom, that's like my mom, that's like my mom, that he had upright and just character.

He seemed like a humble person.

While he deserved political influence, he never wanted to hold any office.

This is my mom, she's so humble.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

MORALES: Hardworking, and just doesn't need to be recognized.

GATES: Right.

MORALES: That's my mom.

GATES: Regrettably, as we look closer into Domingos' life, we saw that there was more to him than just his good qualities.

Brazil was colonized by Portugal in the early 1500s and became the center of slavery in the entire New World.

It's estimated that almost five million Africans arrived on its shores, and at least one of them ended up on Domingos' Farm.

MORALES: Another slave owner, in the family.

GATES: Another slave owner.

MORALES: Oh boy.

GATES: Your third great-grandfather Domingos was a slave owner.

MORALES: Yes.

GATES: So, on both sides, what's it like to learn that?

MORALES: Interesting, he was a of liberal ideas, but yet he was a slave owner, so.

GATES: Right, mm-hmm.

MORALES: I, maybe everybody around him at that time maybe was, in Brazil, who knows.

GATES: Yeah, there were... MORALES: Not that there's justifying, but... GATES: It was as common as common can be in Brazil.

MORALES: Mm-hmm, I mean, it's a sad piece of history, it really is.

It's as sad piece of my family history, but it's a lot of people's family history, unfortunately.

GATES: We now set out to see what more we could learn about this branch of Natalie's roots.

And we got very lucky.

In Galera, a small town in South Central Brazil, we uncovered a baptismal record for Domingos' father.

It lists his parents, Natalie's fifth great-grandparents, and we learned that his father, a man named João da Silva de Oliveira was born in Portugal.

João is your original immigrant ancestor... MORALES: From Portugal.

GATES: On this line from Portugal, you got it.

MORALES: That's incredible, wow.

GATES: He came to Brazil from Portugal sometime in the mid-1700s.

MORALES: Yeah, yes.

GATES: There you have it.

MORALES: That's my direct line.

GATES: Yeah, and so... MORALES: To Brazil.

GATES: So many people in either Puerto Rico or Brazil never have any idea whether family came over.

MORALES: Right and who was the first... GATES: But you do.

MORALES: There he is, he was the first.

GATES: There he is, what's it like to learn that?

MORALES: João da Silva de Oliveira, that's fantastic, this is like a gold mine.

GATES: This record also lists João's parents, Natalie's sixth great-grandparents, as well as the different parishes in Portugal where they were born.

We've marked their location on the map on your left, so you can see where your roots are, those are your ancestral towns.

MORALES: Wow, wow, that's wild, so interesting.

GATES: Have you ever been to any of those places?

MORALES: I've been to Lisbon, but I've never been to, yeah, I've, I've got a lot of places to go to now.

GATES: Yeah.

MORALES: Yeah.

GATES: How does it feel to see this tangible connection to Portugal going back to the 18th century?

MORALES: You know, to, to see it and to see names attached, of course, you hear, and I, I've done my genealogy and I know that I have Portuguese and Spanish roots, but... GATES: Right.

MORALES: You know, you never know who is the first.

GATES: Yes.

MORALES: And to now to know who was the first.

GATES: Yeah.

MORALES: It's fascinating, wow.

GATES: We'd now trace Natalie's roots back more than three centuries on both sides of her family tree, and we still had further to go.

We were able to document four of her maternal 10th great-grandparents all from Portugal, as well as four of her paternal 10th great-grandparents.

And that's not all, when we looked at Natalie's DNA, we were able to glimpse yet another crucial component of her ancestry.

She is 5% African.

MORALES: Ah.

GATES: And the 5% African is equivalent to approximately what you would inherit from a great-great-grandparent of full African descent.

MORALES: Ah.

GATES: So you know what that means, on the paper trail, we saw that you were related to enslavers.

MORALES: Yes.

GATES: And your DNA is telling us that you are also related to the enslaved.

MORALES: So fascinating, wow.

GATES: Also, you're 12% indigenous.

MORALES: Mm-hmm.

GATES: That's the equivalent to approximately what you would inherit from a great-grandparent of full native descent.

So the African would be great-great-grandparent.

MORALES: Mm-hmm.

GATES: The native would be great-grandparent.

MORALES: Hmm.

GATES: The equivalent.

MORALES: Interesting.

GATES: So that probably wouldn't be, that one person would be little bits of DNA.

MORALES: Bits and pieces, yes.

GATES: That would come down cumulatively.

MORALES: So fascinating.

GATES: How does it feel to learn about that, to think about that?

MORALES: It's eye-opening.

GATES: Yeah.

MORALES: Yeah, and very fulfilling.

Like, it, it really does complete the picture somewhat for me.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

MORALES: Yeah.

GATES: You're a lot more complex walking out of this house than you were walking in.

MORALES: Sure, before I came in, who are you?

I'm like, I think I'm complicated, but I don't know, now I'm much more complicated.

GATES: You're really complicated.

The paper trail had to run out for Natalie and Rubén.

BLADES: Oh boy.

GATES: It was time to show them their full family trees.

MORALES: Oh my gosh.

GATES: Now filled with names they'd never heard before.

BLADES: Oh my goodness gracious.

MORALES: This is unbelievable.

GATES: For each, it was a moment of awe.

BLADES: Well, you know, I'm gonna spend time looking at this.

GATES: Offering the chance to see themselves and their families as part of a much larger world.

MORALES: People think of America, I think just as North America, you know, there's also South America.

GATES: Right.

MORALES: And the Americas.

And my history is very much the American America's story.

GATES: Right.

MORALES: And I think, um, my genes, my genealogy pretty much says it all.

GATES: It does, it's a multicultural, intercontinental, intra-American... MORALES: Affair.

GATES: Affair.

MORALES: It is.

BLADES: It has cemented my belief that I am a mix of, of different, um, nationalities and different races.

I always thought so, I always wished for it, and I'm glad that I know now.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

BLADES: That is very, very, very, uh, to know is very good.

It, it, it's liberating.

GATES: Mm-hmm.

BLADES: I think because you say, okay, well I'm, I'm Panamanian and I know that there's all kinds of, of different backgrounds in Panama.

But once, you know, then I think that's very good because it gives me an argument when I speak about against racism or, or stupidity of any kind.

GATES: Right.

BLADES: It gives me a tremendous, uh, pleasure to be able to present rational arguments against stupid biases.

GATES: Yeah.

BLADES: So I'm very, very, very happy that this is clear.

GATES: That's the end of our journey with Rubén Blades and Natalie Morales.

Join me next time when we unlock the secrets of the past for new guests on another episode of "Finding Your Roots."