"Heirlooms we don't have in our family. But stories we've got."
Author: Rose Cherin
M's glorious 96-year-old Grammy passed away in February and I put together a video of her life, delving into piles of pictures from her journey whilst on the planet. While I do know several stories of her life, I was still so struck with the number of pictures for which I had no information, no adventure to attach to the square of celluloid.
And it got me to thinking.
Our generation is becoming illiterate in oral history.
Oral history used to be the means by which the wisdom and chronicles of the ancestors were passed down to the future generations. Families told each other the stories of their families, the recitations of lineage and language and lore.
We don't do that much anymore.
I think it's because we rely on the film mediums of photographs and video and we assume that we are capturing biography.
But I learned in putting together Grammy's video that while I had some beautiful film resources of her life, I had not often asked for the stories behind those images. And some of the photographs were so interesting, it made me a bit heartsick to not know the memoir behind it, even though the individuals appearing in the photograph had been carefully catalogued in ink on the back of each picture.
And it made me realize further that while I do know some of the biographical sketches of relatives back to about my great-greats, if you will, the stories of those great-great's parents and grandparents and great-grandparents are not known. Those stories didn't get passed down, weren't handed along in a genetic assembly line of connection.
I look at the scratchy black and whites I have from some of those generations. And I wonder.
I wonder about their dreams, about their fears. I wonder how some of them worked up the courage to head for new land they knew nothing about, to farm and sweat and build a life. I wonder how they saw their lives, how they saw their purpose in their sojourn here. I wonder.
And so, my Dear Readers, I challenge you. Tell me a story of your family. Tell me the oldest one you know. If you have one about Great-great-great Grandma, share it. Create your own post and link it here in the Mister Linky box below or tell one in the comment box. Exercise that oral history and tradition. And remember to tell your own stories. Your great-great-great grandkids will want to know.
Okay – here’s a quick one about my great-great grandfather , who was a Scottish engineer who was posted, with his family, out to Hong Kong. My grandmother used to tell a story about how he was inspecting incisions made in a brass plate one dark evening; and seeing the reflection of someone moving behind him, was able to defend himself against the Chinese man who leapt out with a knife drawn and attempted to stab him!
ReplyDeleteVery Indiana Jones, don’t you think?
Also, while living in Hong Kong as a child, my great grandmother was kidnapped and bundled aboard a junk (apparently for the white slave trade!). Luckily the children’s nurse managed to raise the alarm and call out the Colonial Police. A chase then ensued which resulted in most of the kidnappers being killed, and the children being returned to their doting parents – which was lucky for me, wasn’t it!
My two favorite family stories: First, that my great-great-great grandfather died while trying to tame a horse. The horse ran him into a tree. But the amusing part, to me at least, is that the man was 103 years old! I can only hope to be that active if I lived that long!
ReplyDeleteThe second story is scary. My grandfather was one of fourteen children, and when they were little they had an old rifle that they played with (I do not know why you would let your children play with a real rifle, but they did.) All of the children played with it, and then my uncle Perry let his sons play with it when they were small. Several years ago, it was discovered that there was actually one bullet in the rifle, and it had been there the WHOLE TIME. My family had been playing with a loaded rifle for years. *Shudder*
But, isn't this what blogging is for? I look back over the past year or so and I cannot believe how many stories I've preserved for my children to read when they are older.
ReplyDeletetwo come to mind immediately .. one involving me and one not .. the oldest is about my granny .. she passed away in april 07 at 96 years old.
ReplyDeleteShe married papaw when she was 13 and he was 27. He had a farm with a house on it. It was a two story house. He told her ont to go upstairs in the house. Eventually she did. He came home from working the fields and she asked him about all that stuff in a room upstairs. He beat her. She had found his still. He was a moonshiner. Her brothers were going to kill him, but she saved him by leaving him. She was 14 and pregant with my dad. I will post more on her on my blog this week. (She was married 6 times .. outliving 3 husbands)
The second story involved me. Dad was a preacher. He and mom would attend an annual convention. We kids, (eventually 6 of us .. but only 5 at the time of the story) would stay with papaw (from the last story) and Lula (his second wife) on that farm. (Yes, the still was gone.)
I was 5 yrs old. It was the middle of the night. I woke up having to go to the babthroom. I had a pressing issue. I stood at the back door looking out into the darkness trying to find the outhouse. I couldnt see it. I was too scared to go out searching. It was dark and we were out in the boonies.
Needless to say, the urgency of the situation caught up with me. I quickly stripped and took the underwear and flung them out the door into the darkness. I cleaned myself and headed back to bed.
Now, Papaw and Lula got up with the sun. When we woke, breakfast was cooked and ready. we all scrambled to the table for some eggs, biscuits and gravy, and bacon. Lula spoke up, "Someone needs to sat Grace. Anyone but Ronnie who pooped his underwear last night and threw them out the back door."
I dont remember if I crawled under the table or not, but I am sure I could have. Looking back on it now, it was funnnnnnny !
Oh, I totally agree--the stories are being lost. A few years ago I took all my moms black and white photos and sat down with my granny and had her tell me all the stories she could think of over a weekend. I put them into a black leather scrapbook along with all the precious photos. What a treasure to have all the stories...stories of how they spent their ordinary days, their holidays, how they met and what their courtship was like..priceless stories. My family has pretty tame stories--but still filled with love, hardwork, and God's unyielding hand in their lives. My husband's family has stories that give you chill bumps because they lived in Romania when it was still a communist country...sadly, they don't like to talk about it much. They held underground churches, stuffed tires full of bibles to sneak them in the country, and many members were arrested numerous times and went through extreme harsh consequences while others simply "disappeared"!!!
ReplyDeleteThis is a great post! We should get as much information and history for our grand parents as we can. Once they are gone that is it!!!
ReplyDeleteGreat post!
ReplyDeleteOne of my favourite memoires from my Grandparents is this:
2WW Grandad is in the Navy. News arrives to my grandmother that his ship was sunk. There were no survivors.
Obviously my Grandmother and family are devastated. Until they recieve a letter from him. He is on a new boat. Alive.
When he returned home they asked what happened?
It seems that Grandad had sipped one tipple too many in the bar with some friends, 4 of them fell asleep on the docks..and woke in time to see their ship sail off! Doesn't get any luckier than that!!
i'm afraid that i don't have too many old stories to tell- i was not close to my family during my growing up years, and missed out on much of that family bonding and togetherness. that is why it's so important to me to create "family" for my children today. i scrapbook (the old fashioned way, with paper!) and journal about the things that we have done, and places that we went. i keep the scrapbooks in the family living area so they are easy to get at, and the kids all enjoy looking and reminiscing at all hte cool things we have done- nova scotia, fixing up an old house, chincoteage and pony penning day, groundhog day in punxataunney, camping, canoeing, sailing on an old whaling schooner... we've done alot, and i want those things to be a permanant part of their memory, even if we don't have extended family.
ReplyDeleteI loved reading the stories. I really don't have one to tell :( I'm glad I could read all the others.
ReplyDeleteI have a Puritan great-great (insert many more greats here) grandmother named Elizabeth Eddy, who was put on trial for the crime of hanging laundry on the Sabbath. Twice.
ReplyDeleteI guess she didn't learn the lesson the first time, or she just saw the pile of black and white clothes and said, "If I musteth wait until 'morrow, my pantaloons will surely rot!" or something like that. I don't hold it against her.
When my father passed away, I felt the same way. Many times he and I would spend hours driving from one state to another and he would tell story after story. None of which I wrote down. It is my goal to capture my mother's stories because she says the same things about her father. He was quite the storyteller, but there is no one who remembers them. My aunt is the storyteller in the family now, but my mom is always telling me, "That's NOT how it happened." Regardless, the events occurred. How you perceived them? That's another story. As Paul Harvey would say, "Now you know the rest of the story." Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDeleteAnnemarie
More on the link I left above - The quote with the picture says in Spanish (more or less) "Because I never knew you, from time to time I look at your photos and ask myself which of you am I most like?"
ReplyDeleteLoved reading your story! Will try to post up one myself!
ReplyDeleteMy husband is trying to collect the geneology for his father's side of the family. A lot of the papers from Lithuania are missing. His cousins think they may be in some of the boxes she has from her mom and grandparents, but is not sure. Meanwhile, it gets very confusing when he asks an aunt how many grandkids she has and she lists them all, with birthdates, but does not list who's kids they are. He had to ask his cousins which brother had twins that were almost 3 and who the new baby boy belongs to. Her 8 living children have 15 grandkids, I think.
ReplyDeleteoh, I love this blog. I only know a few stories about my grandmother, Eleanor, as she died right before my parents were married. But she was beautiful and from what people tell me a funny, sweet, strong willed Irish woman. She was a nurse and actually my grandfather's nurse when he came back from the war (shot in the leg in Italy). She didn't like him at first and tried pushing him off on another nurse. But my poppy was persistent and he loved her until the day he died. They had seven children together. And he loved every moment he had with her. He told me she was his one and only & he lived a long time without her. She died in her mid-forties and my grandfather died in his late-seventies. He told me he never forgot her smile or the sound of her voice.
ReplyDeleteIt's sad how many of the "old" stories are being lost -- or ignored by the "new generation". I added a post to Mr. Linky myself. Thanks Octamom. I needed this Musing today. :) You're wonderful!!!
ReplyDeleteCrap. On the spot here....The oldest eh? Maybe how my grandparents met? My hubby has a better story about a great granddad who ran away to UTAH?! And met and married wife there..she who had also just run away... Will work on that.
ReplyDeleteI came to see where you've been...course I realize you are just a tad busy with all those kids and the whole homeschooling thing and lovely blog writing and Video history-ing...
You are amazing. The candy corn kill me btw, it's late and I need a snack now.
Oh geesh, I'm so embaressed by most of my families history. Being from the deep south, alot of undesirable things went on in my family that I am not proud of. We were plantation owners and had cotton farms and yes, slaves. I do not pass this information along to my kids because I'm ashamed of what my ancestors did. But maybe I should, this was them and not us.
ReplyDeleteI decided to take your challenge and put my own little spin on the whole story telling thing. The ancestor I chose to write about was involved in a very famous event in American History. However,there are not alot of details regarding her individual circumstances. I really enjoyed taking the opportunity to think about her and wonder which parts of her are carried on in me. Thanks for the prompting to write about an ancestor, that was a great idea.
ReplyDeleteLisa