PrimaVera
Well-Known Member
Since I've actually started posting to these forums, I suppose an introduction is in order. So, here goes...
Somewhere around 1845, my ancestors set out from their small village west of Koblenz and south of Ahrweiler in the Rhineland area of Prussia, to settle in the town of Scott just east of Green Bay, Wisconsin. Oh. Wait a minute. That’s just a bit too far back.
Ok. Shortly after 7:00 in the morning, on 11 November 19[unintelligible], I was born the only child of Sue Ann Johnson and Richard Lewis Schaut. According to family tradition, I got my first name from my father and my middle name from my grandfather, Symphorian Orban Schaut, making me Richard Symphorian Schaut. I was 15 years old before I could spell my middle name correctly.
A middle name like Symphorian has both advantages and disadvantages. The disadvantage is, when your mother hollers for your attention with the parental voice and a “Richard Symphorian Schaut,” there’s really very little doubt that the object of her wrath is you. The advantage is that you can win quite a few gentleman’s bets as to who has the strangest middle name. I only lost that bet once; to a guy named Jerome Symphorian Peplinski.
Of the early days of my life, I remember very little, though my mother relates an anecdote from when I was about 4 years old. According to her, my parents attended a Catholic wedding with me in tow. Apparently I was quite impressed with the whole affair, because, at an appropriately quite moment in the ceremony, I said, “Gee, this is neat, mom! Why don’t you and dad get married?”
Shortly thereafter, my mother, my father, my uncle and my grandmother became members of the Bahá’í Faith. When I was 14, all five of us went on a pilgrimage to the Bahá'í World Centre in Haifa, Israel. Now the Bahá'í Faith is a rather young religion that began in Persia in 1844 (just a scant decade before my ancestors left Germany to come to America). At that time, three generations of Bahá'ís from anywhere in the West was a very rare occurrence—so rare, in fact, that everyone wanted to meet my family.
I remember one gentleman, older, distinguished, highly revered, who wanted to meet us. My grandmother, playing the role of matriarch, introduced each of the members of the family leaving me for last, at which point she introduced me as, what else, her grandson. At that point, this older, distinguished, highly revered gentleman, with a look of absolute astonishment on his face, stepped back and said, “You mean you admit that?!”
That was 30 years ago. In the early part of December last year, I had a chance to participate in my second Baha'i Pilgrimage along with my wife of 18 years. You can read about some of those experiences here. You'll have to click on the archives for December, 2004 to find the posts.
If you're still reading this, the only thing else you need to know about me is that “good morning” is an oxymoron, regardless of the time of day it’s not afternoon until after I’ve finished my third cup of coffee and someday I’ll commission the printing of a large number of t-shirts that read, “If I faint, please administer chocolate.” Any takers?
Somewhere around 1845, my ancestors set out from their small village west of Koblenz and south of Ahrweiler in the Rhineland area of Prussia, to settle in the town of Scott just east of Green Bay, Wisconsin. Oh. Wait a minute. That’s just a bit too far back.
Ok. Shortly after 7:00 in the morning, on 11 November 19[unintelligible], I was born the only child of Sue Ann Johnson and Richard Lewis Schaut. According to family tradition, I got my first name from my father and my middle name from my grandfather, Symphorian Orban Schaut, making me Richard Symphorian Schaut. I was 15 years old before I could spell my middle name correctly.
A middle name like Symphorian has both advantages and disadvantages. The disadvantage is, when your mother hollers for your attention with the parental voice and a “Richard Symphorian Schaut,” there’s really very little doubt that the object of her wrath is you. The advantage is that you can win quite a few gentleman’s bets as to who has the strangest middle name. I only lost that bet once; to a guy named Jerome Symphorian Peplinski.
Of the early days of my life, I remember very little, though my mother relates an anecdote from when I was about 4 years old. According to her, my parents attended a Catholic wedding with me in tow. Apparently I was quite impressed with the whole affair, because, at an appropriately quite moment in the ceremony, I said, “Gee, this is neat, mom! Why don’t you and dad get married?”
Shortly thereafter, my mother, my father, my uncle and my grandmother became members of the Bahá’í Faith. When I was 14, all five of us went on a pilgrimage to the Bahá'í World Centre in Haifa, Israel. Now the Bahá'í Faith is a rather young religion that began in Persia in 1844 (just a scant decade before my ancestors left Germany to come to America). At that time, three generations of Bahá'ís from anywhere in the West was a very rare occurrence—so rare, in fact, that everyone wanted to meet my family.
I remember one gentleman, older, distinguished, highly revered, who wanted to meet us. My grandmother, playing the role of matriarch, introduced each of the members of the family leaving me for last, at which point she introduced me as, what else, her grandson. At that point, this older, distinguished, highly revered gentleman, with a look of absolute astonishment on his face, stepped back and said, “You mean you admit that?!”
That was 30 years ago. In the early part of December last year, I had a chance to participate in my second Baha'i Pilgrimage along with my wife of 18 years. You can read about some of those experiences here. You'll have to click on the archives for December, 2004 to find the posts.
If you're still reading this, the only thing else you need to know about me is that “good morning” is an oxymoron, regardless of the time of day it’s not afternoon until after I’ve finished my third cup of coffee and someday I’ll commission the printing of a large number of t-shirts that read, “If I faint, please administer chocolate.” Any takers?
