So I was sitting here, envying Catherine the Red for being a cousin of John Glenn, when Stephen Colbert brought up my family connection to greatness, Warren G Harding. Colbert played a clip of John McLaughlin saying Warren G Harding was black.
“That sounds right,” I thought, “where have I read that?”
It was in the biography of First Lady Florence Harding, which is the genealogy Bible of my Mom’s family. Florence married my great-great uncle (give or take a great).
Page 38 of the book says Warren was said to have a black grandmother, and that as such Florence’s father didn’t want them to marry. This after Florence divorced my great-great uncle Petey DeWolfe. Petey was a compound of addictions who would stamp the mold for husbands on my distaff side down to, but not inclusive of, Gary.
(Oh, for God’s sake. See that? That’s what happens when you compliment a few phrases from a recent post. I’m like a dog jumping too high for a ball. I should edit that … but now that seems dishonest. Live with it. Laugh at it.)
Anyway, since Mom’s family is famous for an ex-husband able to embarrass Warren Gamaliel, you may wonder what historical figures were on Jerry’s side. I know my last name once meant “small fenced-in backyard.” I think that says it all right there. Also, my grandfather and great-uncles had to tie their father to a tree so he’d get over his opium addiction. Nothing good there.
It amazes me that Gary’s evidently freaking wealthy immigrant mobster relatives would let him marry me. I am finding this change in family dynamic weighs heavily on me. Here it turns out in a freak twist that they have the “resources,” as Trollope might say, and my gentry has faded and fallen on hard times, and I DO NOT LIKE THAT ONE BIT.
UPDATE: Wait! Daniel Webster. Or was it Noah Webster? Thank God I suddenly remembered Della Webster DeWolfe.
5 responses to “Living History”
When I was a kid and moved to another county, I was treated like so much Georgia white trash that had blown in. The teachers would always get us to stand up and say how long our families had been in that county. I was obviously an interloper.Imagine, then, my joy many years later, on doing a little digging into my father’s background and learning that a branch of his family had extended into Snobby County. Not only that, but a major road in Snobbyland is named after those ancestors. Ha! Take that, Snobbians!
Becs – I apologize on behalf of the Snob community. Those are the Georgia snobs, there aren’t worth shit.
Don’t forget about Tennessee Williams mother living at the Mansion House, dragging her wounded leg behind her. You know about that too.
Catherine the Red – Well, yes, but I’m not related to her.
Yes, I know you are not related to her, but it makes me laugh everytime I think about you dragging your leg in Damon’s old apt and telling him the story.