Sunday, Natchez Burning

Sunday, and the last day of my mini stay-cation.  I woke up a little past 5am, grabbed my book, a bottle of water and headed to the back patio and sat down to read.  Yesterday, I had begun reading Greg Iles' latest "Natchez Burning".  While I was intimidated by its size... its a long book! ... I became fully entranced with it from the very start.  And once that happens, well, I can't put it down.  Around 10am I decided that I needed to do something besides lay around reading a book.  So I slipped into my swimsuit and headed for the pool.  I love to stand in the cool water, feel the sun on my back and read.  For 90 mins I was out there, turning page after page, unable to tear myself away from the story.

It's a complex story of characters, mostly centered around a doctor in the south in the 1960s who saw some unbelievable things - but it never stopped him from treating those who needed to be treated, whites and blacks alike.  In his time, he was witness to the many injuries inflicted on, and by, members of an elitist group who called themselves the Double Eagles, a secretive spinoff of the KKK.  Its a complicated story with twists in turns written the only way Greg Iles can do.  With accurate details and descriptives, you become pulled into the story -- and me, I can't let it go!  I think I read 90% of my day away.  But I don't mind.  And I wouldn't be surprised if I came away calling folks "y'all " after I get done.   Good read, highly recommended, but leave yourself ample time to get into it.

Family Tree

I have finally admitted defeat - the world will never know the true story of how my great grandmother came here from Sweden.  The stories generated have been baffling, they cannot be checked with any available means on the internet.  She has no grave marker, and the dates given for her birth seem erroneous to me.  That being said, I did find out from my dad that his father wasn't raised by her, he was raised with another family.  Which is nice.  But .... why?  Several theories and stories abound in my brain.  I've written several times about my thoughts, the facts as I know them, and the stories I've been told.

But in the end, it sounds to me like this woman came to America on her own. She arrived here and was trying to find work, somewhere to live, and got involved with a man, and became pregnant.  It happens, right?  But back in 1899, unmarried women didn't have babies!  So perhaps a tiny white lie, and began life in a new city where no one knew her "shame".  Maybe the man who raised my grandfather, Ole Bergman, was the real father?  No one left living will know the truth.  My grandmother refused to speak of it, no matter how many times I attempted to draw bits and pieces out of her.

In the end, its the same story that's been repeated time and again throughout history.  That doesn't change my burning feeling to know the real truth!  But at this late date, I don't believe I ever will.  Generations from now, perhaps it will be enough of a starting point with Harold and Christine beginning a new life in America at the turn of the century.  I hope my research and notes will help.  Finding where we came from helps us to know where we're going.  :)