Reunion Recovery

The Lawton family reunion was yesterday.  I went with Dad, you know, because he is a Lawton.  The fact that my Mom, Margaret Baker, is not only a Lawton by marriage, but one by blood, was what I thought was sort of a secret.  Boy I was wrong!  Because there were Bakers at the Lawton reunion.  Out in plain sight!

Let me break it down for you.  My great grandmother, Jennie Clarke Baker - her Mom was a Lawton.  So YES, my parents are distant cousins.  And YES, I blame the inbreeding for the Crazy.  (When I am not blaming my upbringing for the Crazy, or my children, or my job choice, or my husband).

At your family reunion do you stand around and drink sweet tea and eat fried chicken and mayonnaise based food?  Do you reunite with people you grew up with as a child?  Do you hug people who changed your diaper once, and remark about what a great cook your Aunt so-and-so was?  Do you smile as the youngsters run around outside and get to know each other, and feel nostalgic for the time when you and your cousins did the same thing?  Is this how your reunion works?

This is not how the Lawton reunion works. 

I only knew a few of the people there.  There was one other person there younger than me.  There were tables set up like a classroom, and a projector screen in front.  In fact, the Lawton reunion had only one element in common with your reuion:  mayonnaise. 

When Dad and I entered the reunion, we were first asked to select a color-coded sticker for our name tag.  Each wing of Lawtons was represented by a colored circle.  Our color was red.  Initially, I felt like a dork bringing my 3 ring binder of Lawton geneology and fun facts.  (I had studied before the reunion).  I should not have!!  Surrounding me were SERIOUS family fruitcakes.  With family trees, and pictures of old dead people.  With laptops, and obituaries to read.  And book after book about Lawtons - How Grand A Flame, Some Survived, and one scandalous story that is meant to be a novel . . . but isn't.

We had a speaker at our family reunion.  Stephen Hoffius, a witty and entertaining writer, presented his book:  Northern Money, Southern Land.  Then he had a book signing!  Right there at the reunion!  (I bought one).

After a lunch (mayonnaise) and a group picture (excrutiating, God I am so impatient), Dad and I took a detour.  We drove through Estill, he told stories.  Why didn't I think to bring a recorder?  Each structure had a secret - a past life.  Like the old mill, that employed so many.  Lawtonville Baptist Church, were once a Lawton married a Lawton and the wedding was officiated by a Lawton. 

When we had been thoroughly Lawton-saturated, we switched alliances for a bit.

We went to see my great Uncle Bill Baker.  My maternal grandfather's big brother.  A WWII veteran.  The epitome of a Southern Gentleman.  "Dalo" to his grandchildren.  Dad and I entered his home, unchanged really.  A sense of honor permeates the walls.   The WWII references, and all the family photographs.  Uncle Bill in his 20s - a handsome, really beautiful young man (we Bakers don't do ugly).   And a glorious bride, his Marnie. 

Uncle Bill is not doing well.  But he tried to stand when I entered the room, because a true and honorable man stands when a lady enters the room.  And I watched my father, another true and honorable man, address Uncle Bill at eye level.  Rubbing Uncle Bill's hands.  As they talked man-to-man, I went outside and sat in the garage and cried.

Dalo told me he loved me.  Aunt Marnie hugged me and smiled and we left. 

To lighten the mood, Dad then suggested we just go on over to the Lawtonville cemetery to see the plot where he wanted a headstone.  Sounds awesome Dad, let's do that. 

Since it was 100 degrees, we were alone in a cemetery, and the kinfolk buried at the Lawtonville Cemetery were standoffish and quiet, we got back in the car.  After a jaunt to the town of Lena ("let's ride out to Lena") which is really the distance from my house to the Publix, we stopped in on Little Bill, my younger Uncle Bill, Sarah and the twins Gwyn and Megan.  "The girls" in my mind - who followed me around my wedding reception 15 years ago, touching my dress.  The "girls" are in their 20s.

I am so glad we stopped by.  When Little Bill laughs there are flashes of my Uncle Broughton.  And I love him.  Aunt Sarah has a peaceful, soothing presence.  Gwyn and Megan are young glorious beauties (again, Bakers don't do ugly).  These young women glow with promise. 

We talked and sat in the air conditioning.  We had some water.  No one boasted about being kin to the guy that wrote Robert's Rules of Order.  I didn't have to behave, or hold back tears.  And, I finally got to say some swear words.

Best of all, I sped all the way home to Lexington and didn't get stopped once.  God smiled on the Lawtons yesterday.  And the Bakers.  And the BakerLawtons. 

And God smiled on this Jones girl, keeping up.