Heritage

I spent some time with my grandparents this weekend. It was one of the rare weekends where there wasn’t a football game on, so we actually got to talk. I heard about how my grandfather’s mother was delivered by an Indian squaw in a makeshift tent during the Oklahoma land rush (they never did get land and ended up in Tulsa). Grandpa claims that his mother was only 2 lbs. at birth. I asked how a baby that size would survive on the open plain, and he said, “Those Indians have their special ways.”

Grandpa went on to tell me how his grandfather opened a dude ranch in Tulsa where he trained and bred Saddlebred horses. Grandpa learned to ride horses at age three from his grandfather. My mom grew up on an Arabian horse ranch (I always liked to brag to my friends about how my Grandpa’s stallion was asked to be in the movie “The Black Stallion”), so I thought it was interesting the horse heritage went back several generations.

Grandpa told me stories of high school, when he drove Catholic fathers over winding hills to visit widows. One time, Grandpa drove his refurbished Model-A (which he bought for $25), with bucket seats bolted to a 2-by-16. Evidently it was a bumpy ride. “Father was white as a sheet,” he said. “He said we’d never take the Model-A again.”

Grandpa credits his good grades in high school to his benevolent driving duties; the fathers were also his teachers. “When I got to Colorado School of Mines, I realized I was pretty dumb,” he said. He failed chemistry twice but graduated nonetheless and went on to be successful in the oil business.

I enjoyed hearing my grandpa’s stories and learning a bit more about my heritage — my family consisted of hardworking, resourceful people. Learning about your family gives you more context for your own life.

[Painting by John Steuart Curry]