Family Reunions: A Sense of Legacy

w: Johnathon E. Briggs

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    Family Reunions: A Sense of Legacy

    DETROIT (July 14 and 15, 2017)—A smoky sizzle permeated the air as my cousin, Dana, manned the barbecue grill. She flipped burgers, hot dogs, and kabobs for hours at Belle Isle Park as descendants of the Jones and Jordan families gathered along the Detroit River under the shade of Pavilion No. 9. They had traveled from near and far to attend a family reunion, an occasion greeted by a bright summer sky.

    I was one of the long distance travelers. I drove four and a half hours—306 miles—from Chicago with my two-year-old daughter in tow, arriving at the Comfort Suites in Southfield, Mich. just after midnight Friday. My connection to the gathering was my paternal grandmother Mamie Jones, born in Atchison, Kansas in 1910 to Enoch Jones and Luella Jordan.

    Mamie was the 7th child of 14 siblings and later married Edward Briggs Sr., my grandfather, a cab driver and quarry worker who had a penchant for fedoras and thick cigars. My father, Edward Briggs, was born of that union. Mamie later married James William Powell, a 9th and 10th Calvary Buffalo Soldier, and became Mrs. Mamie Lue Powell, the family matriarch.

    In 2006, I had the bittersweet pleasure of meeting Mamie for the first time at a nursing home; in 2007, I had the honor of serving as a pall bearer at her funeral. She was 96.

    This was my first Jones & Jordan Family Reunion and I probably would have missed it had it not been for my cousin, Lynn, and my aunt, Linda, who inboxed me on Facebook with details. (Thank you, Mark Zuckerberg, for inventing something useful). I saw them both sitting beneath the shingled roof of the pavilion when I arrived Friday afternoon at the family picnic, a gathering of toddlers and elders, brothers and sisters, cousins and first cousins, aunts, and uncles, faces I’d seen before and others I was meeting for the first time.

    I didn’t grow up with the ritual of attending family reunions, so the nostalgia and fondness of such occasions used to be lost on me.

    That was until 2006 when, in my 30s, I connected with my dad’s family. They invited me to their family reunions and I quickly learned these occasions served as touch points of connectedness and history. Nearly all of my relatives seem to have a memory (for better or worse) tied to a family reunion.

    Taking in the view of the Jones-Jordan clan under the pavilion felt like a verse from Jill Scott’s “Family Reunion” come to life:

    We at the family reunion
    Tellin’ jokes and playin‘ spades
    Uncle Dave is on the barbecue grill
    Grandma braggin’ bout the blanket she made
    For the new baby on her way
    Even though the daddy ain’t really ready
    This child is coming anyway yeah
    Niecy made her famous potato salad
    Somehow it turns out green
    Maybe it’s all the scallions
    Could be the celery
    But oh Uncle Jerome loves it 

    The next evening, the Jones and Jordan families gathered again. This time it was for a family dinner at the local Knights of Columbus banquet hall. A deejay spun tunes. A professional photographer took family portraits. Prizes were given to the oldest and youngest relatives in attendance and to those who had traveled the furthest (Atlanta) and helped the most with the reunion (my cousin Dana for her dedication to grill duty the day before).

    The photo placemat from the 2017 Jones & Jordan Family Reunion dinner.

    But the kicker for me was the dinner itself. Not the food, but the symbolism.

    Placemats at each table featured a collage of fifteen family photos from reunions past. When I looked down, I saw Mamie Powell, the family matriarch, staring back at me from a picture just below the reunion logo, wearing her pearls. When I looked up, I saw the eldest members of the Jones and Jordan clan seated together—in a row of honor—facing the banquet hall, their tables draped in white linen. From our vantage point, it seemed we were staring at the Past; from theirs, the Future.

    Father on,

     

    Mamie (right), the family matriarch, was pictured on the Family Dinner placemat, wearing pearls. Mamie's daughter, Linda (center) with her daughters, Dana (left) and Dawn (right). My daughter was obsessed with pulling a fold-up utility cart that resembled a Radio Flyer wagon.

    707 words

    7.22.17

    Johnathon E. BriggsHusband • Father • Storyteller • #BlackDadMagic • ΑΦΑ

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      Mamie (right), the family matriarch, was pictured on the Family Dinner placemat, wearing pearls. Mamie's daughter, Linda (center) with her daughters, Dana (left) and Dawn (right). My daughter was obsessed with pulling a fold-up utility cart that resembled a Radio Flyer wagon.

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    About

    Few may know this, but twice as many dads of newborns today are now in the 40-plus age group, compared to the 1970s. Six weeks before my 40th birthday, I became a first-time father, hence the title of this blog.

    This life-changing moment made me think about my own dad, who became a father at 43. As my parenthood journey unfolded, I noticed that most of my friends had become parents earlier in life yet, here I was, changing diapers and battling sleep deprivation at (nearly) 40. I told my wife, “Parenting is definitely a young man’s game.” But is it really?

    Where most of my friends were preparing for their children’s middle and high school graduations, I was mastering the art of the swaddle, perfecting the one-hand baby wipe, and learning to decipher my daughter’s gurgles and whimpers. It occurred to me that I had so much more to offer my daughter at the sure-footed age of 40 than I did at, say, 28, when I was still coming into my own.

    Fatherhood@Forty: Memoirs of a Gen X Suburban Dad™ is a creative outlet to share my experiences and connect with other (relatively) late-in-life dads.

    Here are a few factoids about me, Johnathon Briggs, the editor behind this blog:

    • I’m a former journalist (Los Angeles Times, The Baltimore Sun, Chicago Tribune).
    • I love exploring Chicago and the Midwest with my family.
    • I remain on a constant quest to stay fit.
    • I support charities that fight HIV, uplift families affected by incarceration, and ensure African American boys graduate from college.
    • I’m a comic book geek (mostly Marvel, but a bit of DC and Image Comics).
    • I’m a child of the ‘80s, so please expect occasional references to the Golden Age of Hip-Hop.

    As a reporter for daily newspapers, I had the opportunity to interview fascinating people and to test out great products and brands for my readers. I hope to do the same for you as I blog about the moments that make up this adventure called fatherhood.

    Feel free to tweet (@fatherhoodforty) or email ([email protected]) me if you’d like to collaborate or have ideas for a blog post.

    Father on,

    P.S. Check out The Art of Conversation podcast interview I did with Art Eddy from Life of Dad.

     

    Disclaimer: Fatherhood@Forty may contain affiliate marketing links, which may result in commission on sales of products or services I write about. My editorial content is not influenced by advertisers or affiliate partnerships. This disclosure is provided in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR § 255.5: Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.

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    About

    Few may know this, but twice as many dads of newborns today are now in the 40-plus age group, compared to the 1970s. Six weeks before my 40th birthday, I became a first-time father, hence the title of this blog.

    This life-changing moment made me think about my own dad, who became a father at 43. As my parenthood journey unfolded, I noticed that most of my friends had become parents earlier in life yet, here I was, changing diapers and battling sleep deprivation at (nearly) 40. I told my wife, “Parenting is definitely a young man’s game.” But is it really?

    Where most of my friends were preparing for their children’s middle and high school graduations, I was mastering the art of the swaddle, perfecting the one-hand baby wipe, and learning to decipher my daughter’s gurgles and whimpers. It occurred to me that I had so much more to offer my daughter at the sure-footed age of 40 than I did at, say, 28, when I was still coming into my own.

    Fatherhood@Forty: Memoirs of a Gen X Suburban Dad™ is a creative outlet to share my experiences and connect with other (relatively) late-in-life dads.

    Here are a few factoids about me, Johnathon Briggs, the editor behind this blog:

    • I’m a former journalist (Los Angeles Times, The Baltimore Sun, Chicago Tribune).
    • I love exploring Chicago and the Midwest with my family.
    • I remain on a constant quest to stay fit.
    • I support charities that fight HIV, uplift families affected by incarceration, and ensure African American boys graduate from college.
    • I’m a comic book geek (mostly Marvel, but a bit of DC and Image Comics).
    • I’m a child of the ‘80s, so please expect occasional references to the Golden Age of Hip-Hop.

    As a reporter for daily newspapers, I had the opportunity to interview fascinating people and to test out great products and brands for my readers. I hope to do the same for you as I blog about the moments that make up this adventure called fatherhood.

    Feel free to tweet (@fatherhoodforty) or email ([email protected]) me if you’d like to collaborate or have ideas for a blog post.

    Father on,

    P.S. Check out The Art of Conversation podcast interview I did with Art Eddy from Life of Dad.

     

    Disclaimer: Fatherhood@Forty may contain affiliate marketing links, which may result in commission on sales of products or services I write about. My editorial content is not influenced by advertisers or affiliate partnerships. This disclosure is provided in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR § 255.5: Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.
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