Regrets or Not
My life has been busy, crazy, varied, sad and happy. Generally, I have no regrets because what I lived through made me who I am today, and I'm okay with that.
Reading Oceans of Rum triggered regrets.And no, not of the alcoholic variety. This book, whose subtitle is The Nova Scotia Banana Fleet in Run Rummer Heaven, details many of the acts and events of the rum runners from Rosebay and Riverport on Nova Scotia's South Shore. Reading it, preparing to write a book set in that area during those years, I wish I had asked more questions earlier in my life.
Much of the booze came from St. Pierre and Miquelon, the French Islands off the coast of Newfoundland. It consisted of whiskey from Scotland, wine and champagne from France and beer from Germany. After running such a load down the Rum Coast of the United States, the ships often went on to Barbados where they did pick up rum, or the makings of rum, and dropped it off on the return trip. It was dangerous and hard work.
My regret is that, as a young woman, I knew some of the rum runners and their families. (I married into one of them.) I visited Riverport more than once, and both the families who came from there, and these stories are part of my children's heritage. And I never asked the "old timers" about it. Of course, they might not have told me.
What to do about your family history.
When we are young we are interested in our lives going forward. It is only later in life we appreciate those that came before. How will our children and grandchildren think about us? What will they marvel at about our lives? Are we leaving stories for them to read? Are we retelling the family legends/stories or our parents? If you are a baby boomer you are the link between two amazing generations and of course your own. We cannot always go back but we can record NOW for the future.
My challenge...is for you to write down your stories. Find old pictures and write what was happening on that day, with those people, at the point in time. Include all the details, even those mundane ones you have almost forgotten. One day in the not too distant future, other generations will look back and be happy you did so.
My Grandmother's Story Starts Here:
Born Lena Harriet Marshall on January 31, 1874, she lived in Westville, Nova Scotia. Her father, Sam Marshall, was principal at the high school and she had numerous brothers and sisters. (I think 11 in the family but not sure.) The photo is from a class picture taken when she was at the Pictou Academy for Young Women in Pictou. She traveled to classes on the local rail line.