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Everything's Relative | |
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October 2005 issue | |
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Everything's Relative The lighter side of family history.
Jumping the Gun Submitted by Melissa Lewellyan Food Service Before enlisting, I'd never been anywhere much and didn't know anything about the world. When we'd go to the mess hall, I'd look at the menu, and it always listed something called "croutons." I didn't know what that was, and I'd look at everything to try to figure it out. But I didn't want to seem ignorant, so I just kept my mouth shut.
One day I had KP duty, and the mess cook put me in charge of making the croutons. "Sarge, I can't do that 'cause I don't even know what that is," I told him. He took me over to a big pile of stale, hard bread about 6 feet high and said, "Cut up that old bread into half-inch squares, and that's what croutons are." I still don't eat croutons.
The Air Force was good for me. I had plenty to eat and clothes to wear, and three pairs of shoes and boots. I had a little change to jingle in my pocket—I was paid $2 a day, and we didn't have to pay income tax or Social Security. The girls liked men in uniform, so I thought I was in heaven for sure. I didn't join up because I was a hero. I was just hungry. Submitted by Charles C. Royall Delayed Reaction Submitted by Rebecca Roberts To read more amusing and unusual family history stories from our readers, see the October 2005 Family Tree Magazine.
By Diane Haddad
One of my uncles told me this story about a member of our Oliveaux family. He couldn't recall the cousin's name, but this is what happened: Back when you could spend a nickel or dime for a movie, a male cousin went to see a popular Western at the local movie theater. At the time, you could still carry guns in rural Louisiana. While watching the movie, this cousin got very involved in what was happening on the screen. At one of the moments when the bad guy was going to sneak up on the good guy, my cousin jumped up and shouted "Look out!"
In his excitement, he drew his gun and shot the bad guy. From that day till the day the theater closed, there was a hole in the screen where my cousin's bullet met its target.
Sibley, La.
On my 16th birthday, Aug. 18, 1953, I joined the Air Force. My first meal at Lackland Air Force Base was breakfast, and they had SOS (a dish of meat and cream gravy). I liked it, and went back for two more helpings. I thought to myself, "I don't care what they have me doing as long as they feed me like this!" I weighed 126 pounds, and it was the first time in my life I had enough to eat.
San Angelo, Texas
Earlier this year, I received a response from an online query I had posted on a message board—way back in 1998! Quite a feat, especially considering I use a different e-mail address now. My respondent was online searching for a car dealership when my posting on Walter M. Curtis and his wife, Birdie Dotson, popped up. Walter's the brother of my great-grandfather Jesse. When my old email address bounced, the woman Googled my name and tried the address from another inquiry I'd posted.
I hurriedly sent her a message and we were talking on the phone in no time. She said she nearly fell off the chair when she saw her grandparents' names and wondered why someone was interested in them. At the end of the conversation, we agreed this meeting was meant to be, and Walter and Jesse were in heaven having a good laugh over their descendants finding each other.
Columbus, Ohio
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