History, Family, Legacy
As I write the IV Leake Mysteries, I somehow keep coming back to family stories. In THE IHOP AFFAIR, there's an incident in the 1970s that impacts the small town of Sholda, Alabama, unknown to the 400 residents there. In THE KITCHI-GAMMI CAPERS, the family story goes much farther back. In HAWAAIAN HIJINKS (working title), I find myself once again writing mysteries and crimes that have been impacted by family histories. It's not what I set out to do. It seems I just have family history on my mind, and the idea that the people who make up families leave legacies or consequences for those who come after.
It has me thinking about my own grandparents. My mother's parents grew up in small towns in central Minnesota. One of their ancestors came from Ohio, fought in the Civil War, and was wounded at Vicksburg, where the care he received in the battlefield hospital caused him to change his faith in direct response to those who cared for him. His decision to fight helped shape the history of this country. His decision about faith remains; from him down to my children, his decision has impacted at least six generations and is being carried on by the seventh.
One of my ancestors was an aide to Ulysses S. Grant. We have no idea what kind of aide he was. If only more of that story had come down.
On my father's side, my grandmother's parents brought her from Holland when she was four. His father's family came from what was then Bohemia, roughly from the area of Prague. My grandfather's father, Joseph, was born in 1872 in Czechia. I believe his parents brought the family to America: that decision has forever changed our family. My grandfather, Walter, was born in Minnesota, six days before his father's 31ast birthday, in 1903.
But a life is far more than the historical events we witness or take part in. Our lives are also about how we impact those around us. Do we leave the world a better place, do we leave the people around us happier, do we teach them good lessons or set a poor example that will lead them down the wrong path?
My grandfather lived a relatively ordinary life. He worked a professional job, raised his boys, and retired. He was too young for the first world war and too old to fight in the second. He did nothing the world would consider noteworthy, exciting, or heroic...but his character left the world a better place. He was an early leader in Boy Scouts when they were relatively new in America. I have his small three-ring binder with his type-written notes of songs and activities. He collected stamps. I have much of his collection, from the time stamps were a penny apiece and look forward one day to learning more about his collection and the history they tell.
He played trombone, his twin sister played violin, their mother played piano and sang. I remember being told they used to sing and play on Sundays and people would gather on their lawn to listen, in the 19-teens or early 1920s. When I was 8, he brought out his beautiful silver trombone with floral engravings on the bell and let me and my cousins try it. That moment led me to wanting to play, myself, and I still have that trombone, now more than 100 years old, in my house.
It's directly because of him that I've had so many wonderful experiences in music. I've played in pit orchestras for ballets and theater, in symphonies, in jazz bands. Among my very favorite musical memories is playing Auld Lang Syne on the dock with the Buz Whiteley Big Band as 'Mighty Mo' left Bremerton, WA for her new home at Pearl Harbor.
Walter was a lawyer--which I only learned well into my adult years. Our 'job' is so central to how we're perceived in life, yet it is the very smallest part of what I know of him. He took early retirement due to health issues at the time, yet lived to be 96, in great health and with gusto. He grew gardens. He fished with his sons and gutted catfish to serve for dinner at Quadna, a resort in Hill City, Minnesota where we used to gather.
He always said he wanted to live to be 100. Yet as he got closer to 100, he said, It's no good to be this old. Everyone I've ever loved is gone--parents, siblings, classmates, colleagues. I understand his feeling at the same time a part of me asked--but your sons and grandchildren are here, don't you want to see us? I trust I will understand better when I am 96. Then again, maybe I won't!
Even at 96, he was incredibly healthy apart from, you know...being dead. They believe he had an aneurism.
He was active, strong, healthy, the only exception being an inner ear problem that caused occasional balance issues. Well into his 80s he was climbing onto his 2-story roof to shovel snow off it, till his sons told him he must stop before he lost his balance two stories off the ground. He lived in his own apartment in a senior citizens place until his death, still self-sufficient.
At his wake, his oldest great-grandchildren--my son and nephew--who were eight and nine, sang the songs my grandfather loved to sing to his grandchildren and great-grandchildren:
The little dog ran 'round the engine was one of his two favorites. I can't remember the words, but I think it might have not ended too well for the little dog. A lesson about running around engines!
There was also:
Howdy doo, little lady, howdy doo!
Is there anything that I can do for you?
I'll do anything I can,
I'll stand by you like a man,
howdy doo, little lady, howdy doo!
Our lives our greatly impacted by those who go before us, sometimes even by generations.
We learn from them one way or another. We learn to follow in their footsteps or learn what not to do. I learned positives from my grandfather. He spent time with his family at Quadna. He fished with his sons. He played music with his sister and mother. He showed his trombone to me, which profoundly directed the course of my life. He spent his life before marriage in his legal career and in Scouts, directing young men toward learning skills and character development.
Mostly, I have pictures of my kids but the picture above is in one of the frames on our front table. Every time I see it, I remember his happy laughter and the ways he made the world better. He lived a good life, and one that, though ordinary by the world's standards, has inspired me and left my world better. He was always cheerful and happy. He was always in good humor, full of smiles and quick with a laugh. His life had trouble and heartbreak, like everyone's does. But he faced it with a positive attitude. He's someone I want to emulate in those ways and hopefully leave the world better for others as he made it better for me.
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