How Did They Do It?

I got the chance yesterday to visit the gravesites of my paternal grandparents while visiting Lake Charles, Louisiana. Although it may seem like a somewhat morbid thing to do on a warm and sunny Thanksgiving day, I rarely get a chance to visit my paternal grandparents, nor the city where they are still well-remembered and well-respected. Since I was a child, they have always been a beloved enigma to me. As they died many years before I was born, I have managed over the years to put together a pretty good composite for myself as to what they were like. As far as I can tell, like most other people, they had there merits and their frailties - generally in good measure. Most of what I know about Papa and Mama Simon was gleaned from innumerable stories shared with me by my late father, who died eleven years ago. Even though my dad was a tough-as-nails dude who didn't suffer fools, the one thing that always softened his edges was talking about his parents, whom he respected immensely. Of all the things I have ruminated about my grandparents, one question has always remained: how did they manage to self-sufficiently raise 16 children without being of considerable formal education or significant material wealth?

That above number is not a typo. My paternal grandparents had 16 children (same mother and father), all of whom grew up to be generally successful and productive members of society. Now, that's not to say we don't have some crazy folks in our family (you are going to get some frayed DNA when you procreate this many times) - but who doesn't? In my mind, the ones who are a little touched  (a self-explanatory southern expression), are generally harmless and they honestly keep things interesting, so to speak. Nonetheless, I always marvel at the sheer will, determination, and character my grandparents had to successfully pull off this unbelievable dual feat of childbearing and parenting. You see, it's one thing to have all these children, it's another thing to actually raise them well, which they did. Furthermore, I can't even begin to fathom how Papa Simon, as a Creole man (i.e. French, African, Native American ancestry) living in the Deep South during the early to mid part of the last century, managed to start two modest businesses (e.g. furniture and grocery) when so many other men of color were systematically denied the opportunity to do the same.

Undoubtedly, because of the rock-solid values instilled in my father and his siblings  (e.g. integrity, self-respect, faith) and the example set by my grandparents "to do something and be somebody," our family has survived and thrived in spite of many cruel and inexplicable twists of fate that are endemic to human life.  And much like your family in some form or fashion, my grandparents story is the American story. They too were like millions of other working-class Americans from a bygone era who worked hard to raise a family, paid their taxes, were contributing members to their community, lived a life of quiet faith, and did all of this in the singular hope that their children, and even their children's children who they would never even come to know, would have a better life than the one they knew.  As far as I'm concerned: mission accomplished. I am immensely grateful for the fact I have a blessed life because of the unimaginable sacrifices Papa and Mama Simon made, as well as those of my maternal grandparents and parents. Because of this, I guess it doesn't really matter that I'll never figure out the minutiae of how they made everything work back then. The fact is - they did. That is the American story - at least one of the parts that I am both proud of and humbled by.