Fresh Hell Bizarre Family Story, One of Many

Midwest, Ho!

I've ragged about some of the crazy nonsense recently promulgated by some state and local governments in the Midwest.

On my paternal side I myself come from solid Illinois farmers, and the recent news has embarrassed me on behalf of my assorted genetic material.

The Fresh Hell assortment of paternal ancestors sadly didn't arise from what is commonly known as a melting pot (although there are a few 18th century cads born on the wrong side of the blanket). My dad's side is a fruitful combination of the acceptably inbred Pennsylvania Dutch and agreeably bland Anglo-Saxon.

Around the mid 1800's a small branch in the middle of nowhere Pennsylvania caught on to the Westward, Ho! movement and went to Illinois, settling as farmers both solid and true. In their way, and in their time they formed the backbone of agriculture, people often glorified as "salt of the earth".

Generations were satisfied with rural living and carried on their acceptably Dutch & Anglo-Saxon Puritan traditions. Along the way, I think a great many things were lost in the harsh life of the prairie. Independent thought was not a trait worth preserving - imagination and flair lost out to conformity. The life of the mind and the appreciation of artistic creation were unnecessary luxuries - considered too effete or too flashy, not appropriate for simple country folk and jettisoned along with the unusual and exotic. (I do wonder about the illegitimate 18th century cads, but they were never discussed so I imagined fascinating lives for them. However, like so much family history, they were probably as dull as dirt.)

Flash forward to Christmas of 1986; the last time I saw my father's relations. I was a ballsy young kid newly moved to New York and convinced there wasn't a trick out there that I hadn't heard of, and not a single dearly beloved cultural artifact I hadn't planned to kick the shit out of. Simply put, I was a pretty belligerent know-it-all. I'd been to college, I'd read actual books, I skillfully navigated smelly dangerous big city streets (which to the relatives, might have been Beirut for all they knew).

Back on the ranch, my father's extended family had gotten very accustomed to the shopworn 50 years outdated platitudes my great uncle, titular head of the family, routinely spouted without ever hearing a murmur of dissent. As I recall, he basked in his position as the Local Resident Authority on Everything. And the women, especially, hung on his every word as if each were priceless rubies.

Imagine a collective gasp the size of a cornfield when I debunked him on a subject fair and square, with genuine facts to back up my argument. I honestly can't remember the subject of this magnificent trouncing - it was either political or a current event. I wasn't a complete dolt - I certainly wouldn't have challenged him in areas in which I knew he was an expert, such as John Deere tractors or parsnips - but I couldn't sit quietly and nod like one of his heifers while he betrayed his rabid, racist small-mindedness and sheer willful ignorance.

Thus the rift began - in my eyes it was merely shameful ignorance that had been properly corrected, though perhaps not diplomatically, and in those days I certainly felt no reason to offer empty respect to my elders when they mouthed egregious poppycock. Judging by the enormous gasp and the overt snubbing I subsequently received, I now believe that the mere fact that I, a young woman, opened my mouth to contradict the patriarch of the family was enough to consign me directly into a Hell designed especially for young, sassy-mouthed females.

They closed the book on me after that and later on my siblings were shut out, for various other petty slights - to the extent that when my father's mother died no one in my immediately family was even told.

The only way I found out was through the Internet; while aimlessly surfing I found the online version of their local weekly newspaper and her obituary was listed. To this day I can't decide whether this is truly pathetic, or merely an example of the family's legendary ability to hold a grudge longer than anyone else in the universe- hey, we'll hold a grudge beyond the grave if we must.

I am truly sorry for their narrowness, which I'm sure presently continues. Had I been older when confronted with my great-uncle aptly impersonating a giant ass I would have responded, if at all, with rather more delicacy. Most of all, I'm grateful I'm rarely exposed to people who prefer rigid conformity and outmoded hierarchy to pesky facts, intelligent discourse and logic-based opinions. (Needless to say, Mr. Fresh Hell would send them all immediately into coronary arrest, and don't think I haven't considered looking up one of the old fogeys just for spite. After all, I do come from champion grudge-holding stock.)

So I know why certain Midwesterners have bound themselves like glue to many beliefs and worldviews barely relevant to the 20th century and certainly outmoded in the 21st.

Oh but sometimes my fingers still itch to shake some sense into them.