Musings from the Gordon Browning Museum

Through the years, my mother utilized the local Governor Gordon Browning Museum a lot. She went mostly for the genealogical research library. There was a huge body of information about local family lines that kept growing with time, but also churches, schools, the census, cemeteries, and other things that the historian in her wanted to look up and read about as she took notes in her unreadable scrawl, in a leftover, dog-eared notebook from the last school year. She would be on the hunt for all the bits and pieces of whatever she was interested in at the moment.

I think her father cultivated her natural bent toward history. It was a way of giving her a sort of relationship with her mother whom she lost as an infant. If she knew her mom’s history, and was exposed to her things, her mom was a presence that he could share.

Momma’s diligence instilled in me a healthy respect for happenings, events, and especially people of the past. She made sure I would naturally know about my forebears and their way of life, by telling me regularly about what they did, where they lived, and generally who they were. Pieces of furniture were named after their former owners. She would go to the courthouse and get copies of deeds and wills, and she would explain life effects of those documents that were signed and sealed so long ago. There was no choice but to have a natural affinity for history.

When I graduated from McKenzie High School in 1974, I was given the “Outstanding Proficiency in American History” award. I had literally had in my whole high school career, only one history class under Barbara Boyd during maybe my sophomore year, or it could have been freshman year. I remember there being mostly older students from higher classes in there. I was that younger kid that kept quiet and did my work. I couldn’t for the life of me, figure out why in the world they gave me that award. What did I possibly do in that one class that made them think I should be recognized as a budding historian? At the time I thought I was probably just a good student that didn’t cause trouble, so they just picked something to give me. Who knew?

As I have come to this place in my life, knowing my mother will soon leave and take all that she knows with her, I have my mind on preserving all her many notes, pictures from all lines of our family, and even her book that she compiled about her paternal Thomas family line. I think of how many questions I still have and how I should have written more of the answers down along the way. I think about how grateful I am to know more about who I am because she showed me who they all were before. I think about how that high school history award was probably because of the ideas and attitudes she placed inside of me to grow over the years.

Last Monday I brought that heavy little metal and marble award to live on the shelf by my desk at the Governor Gordon Browning Museum to remind me it really was for Momma all along. Whatever impression I made in that long ago history class was because of her. I will do my best to live up to the honor it brings.