Dispatch

All the action is finished, and now all that is left is to watch basketball, sleep, and head back tomorrow. The best quote of the day goes to my Great-Aunt Quava(that's pronounced Kee-way-vuh, but no one knows why). She stumbled on my great grandfather's headstone while walking to her seat, looked down at the ground, and exclaimed,"Oh my goodness! I just tripped over Daddy!"

Second place goes to my cousin Richard, age 45, of no specific occupation or location, when he said, "Journalism? Rock & Roll? That's cool. Yeah, I know Jon Bon Jovi from back in the day."

Third place does not belong to any statement, but I have to recognize the joy in my sister's eyes when she tasted KFC for the first time.

The little things my sister and I have learned since coming down are really striking. I always thought I got my stubbornness and rebellious streak from my mother, but it turns out my grandmother used to risk her Baptist father's patriarchal wrath in order to go dancing and to baseball games with my grandfather. They also eloped and only told their parents when his mother found the marriage license. We can't really ask my grandmother to elaborate; she keeps asking me how the trip from New York was even though I haven't lived there for over a year. It's not worth trying to correct her.

We've found some of the most amazing photographs(hidden in a closet, natch)-a picture from our great grandmother's river baptism sometime around 1910; one of two young men sitting on a car dressed in impeccable suits(no one knows who they are), and my personal favorite, the series of photos of what looked like a vaudeville show featuring 20 or 30 men dressed in blackface. I don't know who took the pictures, who it is that is in them, or what else might have been going on, and I guess we never will.

ETA: Three free round trip tickets and a night at the Marriott later, I'm home. Thank. God.