Was going through some old photographs that came from my parents. These photographs were never organized in an album that I remember seeing. I do recall every once in a while they would appear on the coffee table in a pile. That happened when Mom was looking for a particular shot. Where they were kept and in what, I just can't say. Today they reside in a large wooden chest I call the archives. They still aren't in any album, just in there loosely in piles, now mixed in with my own old photographs. I just happened to look in that box yesterday. There, right on top of a stack was an old black and white photograph. It was a group of people and I immediately recognized one as my mom. She was young there, but I have seen pictures of her when she was young before. She had written on the back of that pictures explaining just who everyone was.
Included in that picture is myself, I'm about two years old , my sister, my Mom, a man named Austin Bennett and his friend Annie. He had come to visit with my father. Seems like nothing of great significance, just a normal thing that people do. But like a Paul Harvey episode there is quite a bit more to the story. You see, Austin Bennett, the man in that picture isn't related in any way to my family. I haven't fully unraveled the whole story but perhaps one day new information may come to light, although highly unlikely.
What I do know is that my great grandfather Christian Reichart was born on the fourth of July in 1870. He would have a son, my grandfather in 1900 and name him Elwood Christian Reichart. In 1914 his wife passed away, that would have been great grandmother Catherine. Following that there seems to have been some sort of falling out with the other family members. Great grandfather Christian suffered from stomach cancer and was in and out the infirmary. His son, my grandfather developed a strong attachment to the man in the picture, Austin Bennett. Uncle Ben, as he was called, had taught grandfather Elwood how to work the water, to become a bayman. The attachment was so strong that when grandfather Elwood had a son he named him Austin Bennett Reichart. The man in the picture is my fathers namesake! The thing is, grandfather Elwood passed away in 1932 and this picture was taken about 1955. My father was twelve when his father died and had been raised by his maternal grandparents, his own mother having passed a short time after his birth.
Now it is 2025, I am named Austin Bennett Reichart, jr. by my mother in 1953. The story is dad was out to lunch when the doctor asked for a name for the birth certificate. No, literally he was out eating lunch. I was told that Dad wasn't too happy about that and I wasn't told what name he might have chosen. He called me bubba, to others I was Benny or little ben. I would be five or so before I realized my "real" name is Austin. To this day I still don't use Austin. Well, even Austin Bennett, my dads' namesake didn't use Austin, as I said, he was Uncle Ben. The how or why of any of that is a mystery.
Although I was two at the time I did meet that man. I never got to meet my grandfather Elwood. Now Christian Reichart, great grandfather lived until 1940. He outlived his son by eight years. I have yet to find any evidence that he had contact with anyone else in his family and he died in the infirmary. He was buried in the family plot however. That was in 1940. Uncle Ben apparently stayed in touch with my father all those years. Just an old friend of his fathers. I expect he was amused that I had been named Austin Bennett as well. I wonder if my father told him he wouldn't have done that. My thinking is, no, he most likely didn't.
The strangest thing to me in all of this is that my father never knew any of his fathers family. He didn't know that his grandfather was still alive. He had heard of his grandmothers family name, the Gaffga's. Still, he knew nothing about them and had no contact with any of them. His maternal grandparents lived in Greenport on the tip of long Island. My father was raised in East Hampton, also on the tip of long Island. If you look at a map of long Island you will see the eastern most end of the island is shaped like a fishes tail. Greenport is on the north fork and East Hampton on the south, divided by the bay.
On land it would be a distance of about fifty miles or so to go from one to the other. Perhaps it was simply that distance that kept the families apart. I doubt that however, as folks traveled across the bay as readily as we would drive our car to the market today. There is just some mystery there. I do not know the cause of death for great grandmother Catherine, wife to Christian and mother to Elwood. Was Christian somehow blamed? I wonder what happened there. Christian had brothers and sisters, he had aunts and uncles, but none seem to have supported him in any way. The Gaffga family wasn't wealthy but they were business owners, they manufactured gasoline engines and had a marina. Yet, Christian seemed to be abandoned by them.
Well, it's just an old photograph. My fathers namesake is in that photograph, an old friend to the father he never really got to know. My fathers mother passed a short time after his birth. His father Elwood left him with her parents, eventually remarrying and living right there in the same town. Still, my father rarely saw his Dad and was just twelve when he died. What role did Austin Bennett, Uncle Ben, play in all of that? It's been said a photograph is worth a thousand words but in this case it just raised a thousand questions. Was Uncle Ben godfather to my father? I've never heard that said but seems likely. If that is the case he certainly took the job seriously, staying in touch with my father over the years. Seems like he must have been a true friend to my grandfather. His name lives on, for now. After I'm gone, all that will be left is that picture and my story.
In this photo, I'm the last one alive. A sobering thought.
No comments:
Post a Comment