defending heritage

  I left my hometown 45 years ago. What an amazing fact when I think about that. I was twenty three years old. I first left when I was eighteen, off to the Navy for four years. Then, back home! Circumstance caused me to reenlist, leave that place for the last time. I have only been back to visit three times that I can remember. Still, in my mind that is home and will always be home. That is the land I am native too! That is what all of us feel about the place of our birth and raising. At least that's what I think anyway. It would seem these days many want to lay claim to the land of their ancestors as their own land, even when they have never set foot upon that land. We call it out heritage. And what is a heritage? Is it something inherited. Can you inherit what you never had? That is to say what you never experienced? It's my feeling that you can't. I also feel like heritage is an ever changing thing with each generation. I have ancestors that were Swedish, they were steel makers living in the mountains. I know nothing of making steel, living in the mountains or being Swedish. Other ancestors of mine were German folks, farmers. I know nothing of the German peoples, they are just names and dates in the family tree. I have no heritage from any of those groups, none. No, my heritage comes from my parents and grandparents, Americans one and all. They all were born and lived in America, well except for Grandmother Bennett that is, Swedish born she came to this land in 1899 at the age of 16. She did have a small Swedish flag in her china cabinet and would sometimes tell us kids stories of her home, but to me, she was as American as the apple pie she baked. 

  My heritage is what I retain from my childhood days. That is what I inherited from my parents, my siblings and my peers. I continue to inherit those things even until the present day. It's true that all my grandparents are passed, my parents are passed, two of my siblings are past, and all I have are memories of them , their memory is my inheritance. An inheritance that is solely mine. And that too, is what inheritance is all about. It's an archaic definition of the word, seldom used these days, but heritage means a special or individual possession. The love from your grandparents, parents, siblings, peers and others is your heritage. You can not lay claim to a heritage you never had! It's my feeling that many are getting confused by all of that. They are attempting to adopt the memories of others as some sort of utopian state that will grant them special status or benefit. Claiming that as a heritage. 

  I was thinking about that as I read comments and remembrances on social media sites that I belong to. A few are concerned with just that topic, sharing a commonality. We all come from the same county, town, hamlet, or neighborhood. All claiming a common heritage, in a general sense. We share the same customs, traditions, trades, and circumstances. We may share the same high school mascot or nick-name. Identifiers for a specific area. We are, (fill in the blank) such as Hoosiers, Texans, Cajuns, or whatever. And with the adoption of that identifier we are expected to "know" certain things, certain phrases or landmarks. Those things that make you what you what you claim to be. Are you the genuine thing? 

  That is another portion in all of this that I was thinking about. The changing of heritage with each generation. I'm seeing two generations past my own these days. I have children and grandchildren. The grandchildren are entering young adulthood, out on their own, carrying their heritage with them. Thing is, their heritage isn't exactly the same as mine. They don't have the same memories as I do, although we certainly have memories to share. They can not lay claim to knowing anything other than what they have been told, about my heritage. 

  What I find even more interesting is how it appears heritage has changed even with my peers, those that I went to school with, those that I grew up with. That become apparent when I read some of those postings and comments on social media, in those sites. What I have come to understand though is it isn't their heritage that has changed, it is mine. The things I remember were at least 45 years ago! Now, if you are in your forties, like my children are, and a particular place has been there for thirty five years or more that is your whole life! That's your heritage. In my mind that place doesn't exist, or least it didn't, it's something new. As an example I still call the high school I graduated from the "new" school. That school is 45 years old! I discover things like that often on those sites when others are chatting about this or that. Sometimes we attempt to prove how far back we remember, as a sign of our heritage, as that somehow makes you just a bit superior in some fashion. But I think it is just the ability to say something, to relate a story, without question. When you are the only one that was there, you get to tell the story. That is your heritage. It's not quite the same when you say, my father told me or I heard that from my grandfather. Somehow that just doesn't carry the same credence. 

 I am responsible for the heritage of my children. That is something I don't believe many of us realize until those children are grown. The addition of grandchildren shines a light on that. I don't have great grandchildren yet but I imagine that would also increase your awareness of that. I am named after my father. That was my Mothers choice, not my dad's, although he never told me what name he would have picked. It's really not important though. Like most children I wanted to grow up to be like Dad. I was raised by his experience, his heritage. Perhaps one of my proudest moments was when it was said about me, well Ben Reichart isn't dead, he lives right there in Greensboro! That wasn't intended as a compliment though, as it was a reference to my dad. My father had, shall we say, a strong resolve. I inherited some of that resolve. That is my heritage. It isn't the place, it is the philosophy or those around you that creates heritage. Well, at least those that you love and admire. It is the combined input from all of those folks, over years, that creates a heritage. It is the defense of heritage that defines a nation. The commonality of being American is the bedrock of the Republic. It is heritage.