Reunion, September 2019

I was so lucky to be able to attend a reunion of the Soutar cousins in Florida a couple of weeks ago. Mike conceived the idea, issued the invitations, lined up some activities, and hosted the gathering at his home in Bradenton, FL. About half of those invited attended, and we all had a great time getting caught up and remembering previous gatherings.  For most of us, it had been from 35-50 years since we'd been together - we were teens then, and now we're grandparents!

The timing was perfect - there had been a thunderstorm and lots of rain the day before I arrived, so the humidity and temperature were pretty tamped-down for the duration of my visit.


For me, one of the highlights was the beautiful Coquina Beach on Anna Maria Island, a barrier island off the Florida coast in the Gulf of Mexico. The water was insanely warm, and so much more buoyant than the fresh water in the pool at the gym here in Sacramento. Mike's cabana is the navy-striped one near the water.

There were many whole limpets and other shells at the waterline, and I brought a few home to show my granddaughter Emma. (She "fed" them to her plush puppy.)

The dolphin and sunset cruise on Saturday evening was so much fun! We got to the marina very early and stood around for a while, but once on the boat, the guide was informative and entertaining.

We saw lots of Atlantic Bottlenose dolphins, including mommas and babies, and some spectacular leaps. I'm sure the boat crew thought they were calling them with their incessant horns, whistles, and railing-banging - I just thought it was noisy.




We pretty much had the entire boat to ourselves. There was one family of three who also enjoyed the cruise. They had an adult son with autism, and he enthusiastically responded to the leaping dolphins whenever they made an appearance off the bow. We talked a little, because of my sister, Mary, and I hope I was able to ease some of the awkwardness they felt at being on the boat with a family party.








As sunset approached, the boat cruised to the Gulf side of the island for a view of the sunset. We waited for the green flash, but I don't think anyone saw it.







And what would a reunion of Jamaican cousins be without Jamaican food? We had Rice and Peas, chicken, and I can't remember what else on the first night. Debbie and Mary completed a cooking marathon, making boiled yellow yams, Johnny cakes, Festival, salt fish and ackee, and cutting up fruit for breakfast the following morning.





Everyone seemed to have a great time chatting, singing, swimming, and eating. We exchanged contact information, and several said they want to do it again next year. That would be nice.

Memoir, continued

I thoroughly enjoyed the memoir class last spring.  I didn’t know there is a memoir genre, which is different from biography or autobiography. I didn’t know it’s expected to alter the narrative to make the story better, to protect subjects, and to add personal reflection - in fact, the reflection is key. No one can tell you how YOU experienced the event, or that your recollection of it is wrong because it’s not how they remember it.

I learned that writing for readers is not the same as speechwriting, and that there are scene-setting techniques that can help the reader picture/feel/understand the story you are telling. I learned to learn from what classmates shared, to accept the instructor’s feedback, and to let go of my superiority. I learned I have very good stories, and need to learn how to tell them in memoir format, which includes what I learned from the incident, my feelings about the incident, and how it affected my development or perception of the situation and people involved in the incident. I am trying to enroll in the seminar again this fall, but there is an error on the web site - the class is not listed! I’m waiting for Renaissance staff to get back to me with a solution or a workaround. 

In September, I’m going to a Soutar cousins reunion in Florida. I hear there will be about 25 of us. I’m planning to ask lots of questions, take many notes and photos, and come back with much fodder for new memoir essays. I’m taking a notebook for people to write down memories and story-starters, and leave their contact info so we can keep in touch. I also want to create a shared photo album online where we can upload photos for everyone to share.  

Update 8/30/19: Per the Renaissance Society, the Fall memoir class is cancelled, but it will probably be available again in the Spring semester. I signed up for a half-semester fiction writing seminar beginning at the end of October, per our instructor's recommendation last Spring, but I'm waitlisted.

The following letter is among my mother's correspondence. Una is her mother. I believe "Uncle David" to be Simon Soutar's brother. Simon was Una's father, and the subject of the "tribute" mentioned in the letter. The "Family Magazine" referred to at the end of the letter used to make the rounds of the far-flung families, each family adding its current news and deleting its old news before sending it on to the next family. Mother referred to it many times, calling it a "round robin", but I believe it ceased circulation in the years after this letter was written.

5 Wood Street
Dennistown
Glasgow
24th April 1923

Dear Una,

I received your letter also that for Aunt Sara & forwarded the same to her. I have seen her since & she hopes to be able to send you a reply. She has been failing during the last 12 months her deafness has increased & now her memory is often at fault. Uncle Alick is not too well either & he worries about her. Still they say that the change back to Scotland has in some ways benefitted them. Their new address is
8 Corse Terrace
West Kilbride
Ayreshire

Agnes lost the sight in her right eye a few weeks ago. The Dr traced it to a piece of broken tooth left in the gum. It has been extracted & the sight is coming slowly back.

Sarel [?] (age 13) is in the Scouts. Martin (10) is in the "Cubs", but is having to give them up for a time as under Dr's orders he has to go to bed at 6 P.M. in order to rest himself thoroughly. His heart is weak but the Dr says he will grow out of it. Queenie (9) is in the "Brownies" & is taking part in a "Display" which takes place tomorrow night. Her proper name is Sara Margaret but we call her "Queenie".

Aunt sent me the "Jamaica Papers" I was much impressed by the tributes they paid to your fathers character his enterprise & public spirit.

I have just been reading Uncle David's Journal of his voyage to the West Indies. Uncle Simon & he left Southhampton, on Jan. 18th 1858, on board the good ship R.M.S. Parana 2048 Tons. Its destination was St. Thomas. From there they took a packet, the "Dee" which proceeded via Puerto Rico & Haiti. They landed at Port Royal on Sunday 7th Feby & put up at the Date Tree Hotel which had been recommended as the "first in the island." The journal closes in time for dispatch by first mail.

The "Family Magazine" (which had gone astray) has just come to hand this afternoon.

With kind regards from all to all,

I am
yours sincerely
Oscar S. Bailey

This is a reaction paper my mother wrote for a biographical writing class she took at a local community college 17 years ago. While visiting her last week, I came across several of her papers, and decided to transcribe them for the purpose of sharing with the family. Here is the first.

9/2/90 “HURRICANE” Fay Schulmeister

Learning Log

I enjoyed the author’s economical use of language, which nevertheless gave vivid descriptions of the passage of the hurricane. He also managed to reveal his personality. I got the impression of a sturdy, practical person and a perfectionist. I admired his gut instinct to leap to what he saw needed to be done. I appreciated his recognition of the forces of nature, to be accepted and dealt with.

The description of the onslaught of the hurricane, and its passage, reminded me vividly of hurricanes experienced in Jamaica In my youth, although my experiences were inland. One particular occasion I recall particularly.

We were a large family, of three generations, living in a five-storey house built of stone, stucco and wood, with many windows, jalousied walls, and doors. At the warning everyone sprang into action, through long practice knowing exactly what to do. Doors, windows and jalousies had to be battened. Storm lanterns were gathered, cleaned and wicks trimmed, then filled with oil. Matches were put to hand. The estate workers and house servants waited it out in the stone-enclosed first storey. The family gathered on the second floor.

We felt the changing atmospheric pressure, saw the lowering black clouds, heard the light wind and rain. Then, all at once, came the impact of raging winds hurling what seemed like leaden sheets of rain against the house. There were sounds of creaking wood, of tree branches snapping and being blown against the house. We wondered if the roof would hold – one crack and the wind would roar in and lift it of. It was awe-inspiring to watch tall coconut trees whipped almost to the ground, and not breaking.

Then came the threatening silence of the eye. We braced ourselves. Suddenly, with unimaginable viciousness, winds and rain raged, seemingly from every direction.

After several hours all was quiet. We were thankful the roof held, and set about unbattening doors and windows. No one had been hurt, our house had withstood damage, and soon there was a joyful chattering as we all exchanged observations.

I was impressed by the author’s use of unusual verbs and similes to convey the impact of the rage of the elements; for example “The wind …. Ripped the water like a black sheet. It hammered like a fist.” I also remarked his winding down to normalcy, with his whiskey, and his return to peaceful placidity.

(Instructor’s note: “Do you think he was right to cut the ropes on the other boats? I enjoyed your description of the hurricane you experienced. (+) )

Among my mother's photos, we came across this one, labeled,"1921 St. Andrew's School." Mother says she is in the first standing row, on the left. In the back row, the left-most boy is her brother Rowley, and two heads over to the right is her cousin Simon Soutar, grandson of the Simon who came from Isle of Man. Between them, in the next row down is Eily Soutar, Simon's next-older sister.

I wish I had found this before I took the other photos of Una Soutar to be scanned and copied to a CD. It is in very fragile condition and the mat is falling apart in my fingers. I am going to order some acid-free archival storage boxes to store this and other artifacts in, and maybe preserve them from further deterioration.