A bit of an aside, but I’ve taught several intro to genealogy classes recently and, always a huge believer in props, I actually began the last couple of intro sessions by showing the attendees (a lot more people turned up than I expected incidentally) a printed and (very cheaply) framed copy of this image. It’s what I privately term a “Beacon Pa & Ma” image: a strained anagram & acronym of sorts for a generic Bearded Patriarch/Constipated looking Matriarch" of the sort fairly ubiquitous in homes (including mine), flea markets and the occasional Cracker Barrel (though I don’t share that particular terminology with the class.)
Anyway, I don’t identify the couple other than to say “This couple has an interesting story. He was born in a tiny community called Cuba, New York in 1836, and like a whole lot of other families he and his parents and many siblings drifted south following cheap new fertile land, settled on a sequence of farms in Illinois and then in Wisconsin. That’s where he married her and his brother married her sister, which used to be a fairly common double alliance.” (I didn’t know about the third one.) “He had a combination of wanderlust and the general farmer’s luck that required him to move about once or twice a decade. Even though he was the perfect age for a Union soldier and probably could have used the $400 substitute fee he never fought for himself or for a richer man in the Civil War…” and I briefly mention his adventures in settling prairie land and problems with Indian treaties and drought and blizzard and having to leave farming to manage a small hotel for a while before finally settling in DeSmet, South Dakota, first on a farm and then in a small house in town when his health declined, and she survived him by many years and they had five children though no descendants are alive today… I basically make it known that the couple and their kids went through very little that sounds particularly interesting and nothing that a million or millions of other small farmers didn’t go through during the same decades.
Now, the polite students feign interest up to this point, the less polite have already stopped pretending to pay attention by the time I’m through with the 90 second/2 minute spiel on the couple, which is actually the preferred reaction. That’s when I do the whole “REST OF THE STORY” part and mention that, “Oh yeah, they were main characters in several of the bestselling U.S. books of all time that have sold millions of copies and never gone out of print even though the first came out more than 70 years ago. And they also inspired, very loosely admittedly, one of the most successful long running television series of all time.” With this and a couple of extra hints if necessary (oldest daughter went blind/2nd daughter wrote their story when she was an old lady in the Depression [and it made her rich]), etc… This usually re-attracts their attention.
The method behind the madness of the introduction is that…
I got tired of the “according to my mom we have Indian blood” “Dad says we’re descendants of Robert E. Lee” “I want to see if I’m related to Alex Haley and Kunta Kinte since my family’s from close to where he lived in north Alabama”, etc. (all actual claims and of course none panned out- it’s the Lee one I’ve heard the most).
So… the reason I go into the bit on the gens Ingalls (and this I mention when I’m finished with it) is this: “You may be the exception that proves me wrong, but you’re probably not going to find out that you’re a lineal descendant of George Washington and his long forgotten first wife, the Cherokee Princess Peggy Shakes-Like-a-Trout who was actually the illegitimate daughter of Bonnie Prince Charlie, and even if you are you’re probably going to find that most of your other lines are, like mine, mostly very simple living “just barely getting by” farmers and slaves and smalltime merchants or tradespeople who moved a lot, had farms worth $400 or so in various censuses, and had a bunch of kids- some with ‘where’d the hell they come up with that one?’ names and served as privates or non-coms in wars if they served at all and they probably don’t have homes that are now museums. HOWEVER, as the popularity of Laura Ingalls Wilder writing about her completely seemingly mundane parents who nobody would ever have remembered had her own daughter not convinced her to write their story, the fact these people weren’t rich or famous or really ‘anything special’ at all in their own lifetimes doesn’t mean that they aren’t absolutely fascinating to us today. And, oh yeah, they’re extension cords that connect you to history. And so as Dr. Hannibal Lecter observed, ‘Okey dokey, here we go…’”
May not be quite that long obviously, but it’s an intro I’ve grown to like, and there’s always a “Damn… she looks a little like Ma maybe but he doesn’t look a damn thing like Little Joe Landon’” comment or two, but having taught several of these now it actually seems to soften the blow a bit that grandma wasn’t Harriet Tubman and grandpa wasn’t John Wilkes Booth, because a surprising number of people wonder why you care if they weren’t famous or “other than average”. And of course the odd names that are guaranteed in any lineage or finding out this one had a kid when he was 75 or that one had 22 children and that one was sent to a prison in Elmyra, New York that’s been called the Yankee Andersonville or that you had ancestors on both sides in “the war” or that your great-great-great-grandmother and her children can be tracked in wills where they’re bequeathed to several generations of a family and finally manumitted and ultimate left part of the estate they worked one or that your grandmother Missi’s real name was Missouri Lorena or that your son’s given name has been in the family non-stop for 240 years proves- and these are all things I’ve actually found for various attendees- are actually just as if not more interesting than learning “yeah, you’re the great-great-grandson of both Sitting Bull and Custer”, both times by their affairs with Cherokee princesses.