Jane Huntley and P.J. McGowan — Jane’s Greats
I am buried in cranberries! Not quite literally, but close. As I approach the end of my deadline on this book for Arcadia, I am finding that I have no time for much else. My life is all about Furford pickers and barrel equivalents and slurry spraying and frost control. (And did you know that night before last it got cold enough here on the Peninsula that cranberry farmers were alerted at three in the morning to man the pumps?)
So… when I realized mid-stroke (on my keyboard) about ten o’clock last night that I hadn’t written my daily blog, I was a bit surprised but… oh well. I extricated myself from my cranberry world and went to bed. I am considering today’s musings as a two-for-one deal. And, depending on how things go, it might be ‘all she wrote’ (again, maybe literally) for three or four more days. Tuesday is Delivery Day – “God willin’ an’ the creek don’t rise,” as my friend George Talbott used to say.
Adelaide Stuart Taylor and Family – Phil’s Great-Great and more
On Wednesday, though, I had a BC (Beyond Cranberries) morning. It was our final Community Historian gathering and, as is often the way of it when your plate is already full, I was in charge. Fortunately, I had done the arranging well ahead of the cranberry crunch, I didn’t have to do much but to show up and moderate a panel of THE most interesting people ever. Phil Allen, Charlotte Killien, Jane Snyder, and David Williams had all agreed, way last February, to come and talk about their ancestors.
Amelia Aubichon Petit – Charlotte’s Great Great
“Our Greats and Our Grands” is what we called the presentation. The common thread, of course, is that all of these interesting folks are fifth or sixth generation Peninsula residents – either full or part-time. Their forebears go back to the beginning of settlement on the Peninsula and, in the case of Charlotte and Phil, back beyond that by a good long way. Among the four of them, (actually, the five of us if I count myself) there were relationships and connections from generations ago. And, even more interesting, there were family connections with several of our audience members!
Mary Ann Grouille and Isaac Whealdon – David’s Great Greats
It was generational networking right there at the Columbia Pacific Heritage Museum. I loved it! And judging by the comments afterwards and the suggestions that we do a similar Grands-and-Greats next year, I’d say the community historians loved it, too. I couldn’t help but wonder, though, how many of those ancestors we talked about had known one another back in the once-upon-a days, and if they’d, perchance, been listening in on our morning discussion. If they were, I’m sure they were delighted with their descendants and with the family memories they shared
Well… it’s all over but the shouting and we didn’t make the cut. Not that we expected to, exactly. Back in February, the Observer and I submitted my “Stories from the Heart” series for consideration for the Pulitzer Prize under the “Local News” category. We didn’t really think there was a chance. Not even a remote one.
And so, she did! She talked about how we preserve history and what she learned from the fire. It couldn’t have been more appropriate for Community Historians. That’s what we are all about – preserving and disseminating local history. Her experience and her advice resonated with every single one of us.
“And,” she asked, “are all your old family pictures labeled? Are the names on the backs? Saving the pictures without the names doesn’t do any good at all a generation or so later.” It was a second promise she extracted from us: “Go home, and after you replace those smoke alarm batteries, label your pictures.”
I must have looked as amazed as I felt. “Not everyone does that, you know,” she went on. “But we can’t understand our history if well-intentioned people clean it up along the way.” I don’t think she actually said that Dear Medora was exemplary, but I could feel myself puffing right up anyway.
