Whose History is it Anyway?

Years ago I said of my father that he never left his mission.  Of course he came home from his mission, he married my mother, graduated from BYU and became an insurance agent but he never really left his mission.  Before he decided to join the technology age by buying an iPad his scriptures were the main focus of his desk.  As his office manager I would notice him reach for them throughout the day.  I would shake my head and say, “no Dad it’s just a quote.”  Sometimes at the end of a call he would say to the client, “Just remember that I love you.”  I’d think, “Oh crap. How can I ever look that client in the eye ever again?”  It also seemed that every church calling he had centered on missionary work, which he absolutely loves.  When he was called to the High Counsel I asked him what was his area of special concern?  “Family History,” he replied.  “HA! Now you have to come off your mission!” I joked with him.  I’ll explain how wrong I was in a bit.

There are 2 types of people in this world: those that love history and those that hate history.  Those of us that love history are usually in the minority.  Hello, my name is Rachel and I am a history geek.  I hide my geekiness well in my slick 3 inch heels but every now and again it slips out.  I will randomly but appropriately quote the Founding Fathers.  When asked what was the last book I read I say something like “Hunger Games” or “Twilight” when in truth it was “Being George Washington.”  The best though was when I was asked what I thought of the latest Batman movie.  I stammered out, “Oh yea it was…uhhh ya know my favorite part was when…ummm…well…. That ending was just…ummm….Wow.”  Ok I totaled stayed home and watched a miniseries about the Tower of London on the History Channel instead.  Which was excellent I might add.

My kids know full well my history geek side because I can turn anything into a history lesson.  They know one is coming when I start out by saying, “Did you know?”  By that time the look of sheer terror comes across their face and in unison the groan, “No Mom No!  Please anything but that.”  When I announced where we were going for our family vacation this year I said, “Guess what cool and exciting place we are going to visit?”  “Disneyland?” “No” “Where?” “Idaho Falls!”  My 11 year old daughter pointed out that Idaho Falls in not that exciting.  I had to explain that the exciting part was going to the King Tut exhibit at the Idaho Falls museum.  The excitement in the room was so overwhelming, they were literally speechless and their jaws hit the ground.  “Am I the coolest Mom or what?”  My 6 year old son answered, “Or what.”  Ok so I lost them but with the little grey cells I knew how to rope them in.  My son was the easy one.  “Tyvan, we are going to see a real mummy at the museum.”  His eyes got big.  “You mean a real live mummy that will chase us around like in the movies?”  “Uhh… sure… yep a real mummy.” “I better practice my Kung Fu so I can fight him off.”  My daughter was a little more difficult but I knew what would do the trick.  “Cami did you know that the Egyptians were known for their beautiful art?”  She pretended not to be interested as she played on her cell phone but she couldn’t fool me because her eye brows popped up.  “Really?”  “Yes. They used vibrant colors and then placed these pieces of art in the tombs to preserve them.  Maybe they’ll give you some ideas for your own art?”  She actually put the cell phone down.

There are many, like my kids, that say, “No not history anything but that.  It’s so boring and dusty and about dead people that are spooky looking.”  Is it any wonder people feel this way about history?  We are teaching history the wrong way.  We keep it locked up behind glass and velvet ropes.  We tell them, “Look with your eyes and not with your hands.”  Or we act like Gandalf from Lord of the Rings and say, “You shall not pass.”  We translated history and put the dry, boring facts into textbooks that no one reads and pound the dates into their heads.  1607, 1620, 1776, 1830, 1918, 1941, 2001.  By the way, if anyone knows what all those years refer to then you might be a history geek too.  We forget what history is all about.  We forget that history is alive and is a part of all of us.  We forget the story history tells.

William Tyndale didn’t wake up one morning and decide he wanted to be burned as a heretic.  He just wanted the right to translate the Bible into English so his fellow countryman could read it.

George Washington didn’t say to Martha, “I want to be the Founding Father with the most statues.”  All he wanted was to be a farmer.  That’s all but he did what he had to do and at Valley Forge he fell to his knees asking Heavenly Father for blessings upon his army, the new country, and on freedom.

Joseph Smith wasn’t looking for his name to be used for good and evil throughout the whole world.  He just wanted to know which church to join.

Honus Wagner’s goal wasn’t to have his baseball card be worth 2.8 million dollars.  He just didn’t want his name associated with a cigarette company.

Rosa Parks didn’t want her name to be known by every 21^st century school child.  She was just tired and didn’t want to give up her seat.

These people weren’t asking to be in the history books.  They were just standing, kneeling or sitting where they were.  They weren’t asking for it but they were a part of history.

Another man from history, although you won’t find his name in the history books wrote: “Berlin Aug 31, 1945.  Dearest Donna…,  I received 3 letters from you yesterday… I was so glad to get them… I…will be home some time with in the next 90 days, I hope.  I went sightseeing Sunday.  This place is really blown up.  It is hard to realize how bad till you see it… Well sweetheart, I guess that is all for now.  I love you very much and I miss my little family a lot.  Love, Chancy oxox.”  He was just a simple foot soldier from the 9^th Infantry Division doing what had to be done.  He was my grandfather, Chancy Bacon.  He was a man of few words that didn’t want to be a part of history but he was.  It was his history and now it is mine, my personal history, my family history. 

You were wondering how I was going to tie it all together weren’t you?

These people are calling out to us from the pages of history, waiting for us to remember them.  “And he shall turn the heart of the fathers to the children, and the heart of the children to their fathers” (Malachi 4:6).  They are saying to us from the dust, “Don’t forget us, remember us, find us.”

About 5 years ago I had this neighbor across the street.  We called him Old Man Ed.  We would bring him gifts of homemade jam or salsa and he would entertain us with stories of his life as a young farm lad from Eastern Idaho, to a Concert Pianist, to a Jesuit Catholic Priest, to a prison guard.  One day he asked me if I knew what a Mirror Image Twin was.  It’s where identical twins are mirror images of each other.  If one had a mole of the right side of his face the other will have and one on the left side of his face.  He said that he was a mirror image twin.  He told me that his name was Edward Joseph and his twin’s name was Edwin Joseph.  He said that one day when they were about 17 his brother wouldn’t get out of bed.  He kept yelling at him to wake up or Pa would give him the strap but he wouldn’t wake up so he shook him awake but he was cold to the touch.  Their mother’s grief was so utterly intense that after the funeral she destroyed every document, every picture, anything that showed his life.  My neighbor told me this was the 1^st time in 60 years that he had even spoken his brother’s name.  He sat back in his chair, smoking his pipe and with a tear in his eye he said, “I am the last living person that remembers my brother.”  I put my hand on his arm and said, “No because now I remember him too.”

These people have already turned their heart to us.  They are just waiting for us to turn our hearts to them.  They are saying to us from the dust, “Don’t forget us, remember us, find us.”

How do we do this?  Grandparents, no matter how old your grandchildren are, sit them down at your knee and tell them stories.  Tell them about the good old days.  Tell them who they are and where they came from.  Grandchildren, write those stories down, especially the names and dates.  Then put those names and dates into the computer and send them to the temple.  You see my dad is still on his mission but now his area is the on the other side of the veil for there are so many that still need their work done.  They need to know that we can still hear them, that we have turned our hearts to them.

William Tyndale, I will not forget you.  George Washington, I will not forget you.  Honus Wagner, I will not forget you.  Chancy Bacon, I will not forget you.  Edwin Joseph Eldridge, I will not forget you.

Abraham Lincoln said “It is for us the living…to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced.  It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us – that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion – that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain…” (Gettysburg Address November 19, 1863)

Do not forget them, remember them, find them.  History is calling to you.  How will you answer?