This Is a Developing Story
The making of a family history
Note: If you’ve received this twice. Sorry. Word people are the worst techies. Sad, but true. Read on.
Some say stories make for an unreliable family history. For me, stories make history all the more interesting. Stories help explain the quirky aspects of our family’s nature. I’d like to know, for instance, why every generation of my family has been so antsy? Why didn’t they just settle down?
“How would you like to be buried with my people?” — My cousin describing the way an Okie proposes marriage.
Stories are cultural markers that help define who we are, what we believe. Like my cousin, we use stories to poke fun at ourselves and our humor tilts toward irreverent. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? In turn, we take our religion seriously. Our prayers can be quite eloquent. Other times, dinner-table prayers tend to be a daily run-down of practical matters, like the state of someone’s health, or the forecast for rain—all covered in one setting. Do the other families practice this ritual, or is it just the Baptist branch?
Questions like these sent me on a long, leisurely search for answers. In the process, I filled file cabinets with folders labeled by topics such as “Massacre“ and “Land Run.” I collected keepsakes nobody else wanted—photos, crazy Aunt Matt’s diary, and several bibles. And I filled notebooks with interview notes and outlines for the history I planned to write, eventually. Then three years ago my mother died. She was the last of her generation except for Tom. That’s when my “eventually” became sit-down-and-write.” So here are those stories, served in little pieces, like chocolates in the afternoon. Enjoy.
Chapter 1, part 1: Getting Here
My family’s history in America begins in typical immigrant fashion—with a bright idea. It’s the 17th century in Ballingry, Scotland, where life in the Central Lowlands is bleak. The hero of our origin story, John Kimbrough spends hard days in the field, yet barely earns enough to feed his young family. Dreary old Scotland, indeed. But John isn’t having any of it.
It’s 1667, let’s say early spring, when John and his pretty wife, Mary, scoop up their three rosy-cheeked children, and head to London to see Mary’s father. The teeming city of holds no charm for John who is mainly concerned with convincing Mary’s father to pay their passage to America. To the couple’s relief, Mary’s father is taken with the idea and decides to go along with them.
Imagining John
It’s tempting to picture John as a strapping Scotsman striding the lowland countryside outfitted in a woolen kilt and fancy knee socks. For dramatic effect, a chill wind ruffles his lovely red hair. Truth be told, the scene is based on fact.
Take Mel Gibson’s “Braveheart” for instance. His fierce make-up was in fact inspired by the Picts, John’s ancestors, who “painted” their faces and bodies the way today’s kids get tattoos—to annoy the adults. Through DNA tracing, scientists say the Picts occupied John’s home territory more than 2,000 years ago. The original “Painted People,” were fearless Norsemen who crossed the German Sea to terrorize the lowlands. Later, Roman invaders would call them “barbarians,” and belittle them for “going into battle naked” just to show off their blue tattoos. Take that, the Romans huffed, before retreating to the south for good. The Pict’s warrior reputation (and Scotland’s awful weather) not only kept invaders out, isolation helped preserve their unique bloodline, aka DNA. It’s DNA tracing that tells us what we know about John and his way-back relatives.
John was broad-shouldered and probably stood about 6 ft. tall. He would have been fair-skinned and “ginger” haired, a rarity in the rest of the world. (Comanche Indians considered the scalps of their red-haired victims as trophies.) During John’s time, Scots men and women were taller than their British counterparts. For example, the auburn-haired Mary Queen of Scots towered over her cousin and rival Queen Elizabeth I, who was rumored to be bald (both wore wigs). Envy on Elizabeth’s part likely led to Mary’s beheading, although treason was factor.
Scotland’s burly sons fared far better because of their imposing size. They were raised on a diet of oats, bread and barley, and grew up to be rugged fighters. These sturdy descendants of Vikings were sought-after mercenaries, who served in armies and navies throughout Medieval Europe. John, however, wasn’t cut out to work for another’s cause. Instead, his heroic story would play out in America.
Now I need to go to Scotland!