I had travelled this morning to McPherson, just 25 minutes north of my home here in Hutchinson in order to find out what this "Scottish Festival" thing was that I had heard of for many years now. The journey was a part of my "Peggy's Quick 5 Things" to accomplish before my upcoming surgery sidelines me for a while. Because my father's side of the family (surname Scott) has their ancestry from the country of Scotland, I thought it would be a good idea to see if I could learn something new today and make a connection to a country, a people and a way of life that I really hadn't known that much of. Little did I know that I would find a dear friend like Chris there as a competitor.
The north field of Lakeside Park was filled with men dressed in full Scottish garb who gave it their "all" in events like the caber toss (kind of, sort of like picking up a Westar Energy utility pole and heaving it for all it's worth), the sheaf toss (something akin to spearing a bundle with a pitchfork and hurling it as far as you can), the stone and hammer throws (can't even imagine doing them~my behind would be very sore from every time I surely would have landed on it) and many more. My good friend Chris, normally a mild-mannered and quiet young fellow who I first met when he was our school's counselor at Avenue A Elementary here in Hutchinson, was pretty dang impressive as he went through his part of the contest. Standing on the sidelines and watching them all compete, hearing their grunts, groans, and heavy breathing just reiterated what I already knew without watching~These guys were strong and tough and when it came to what they were doing there today, they meant business! I stood in awe of them, remembering how I almost "wimped" out on my bike ride yesterday when I had to go a few miles straight into a cold Kansas north headwind. For these crazy guys (said in a loving way), it would have been a slice of the proverbial "piece of cake".
The athletes getting the "what for" just prior to the starting of the games this morning. It was an impressive bunch of men and one woman.
Holy cow! I can't even imagine how much this stone weighed but the whole idea was to heave it as far as you could and actually manage not to fall on your face. These are the kind of guys that you just never want to have to arm wrestle~Geesch, I think shaking hands with any of them might even be painful!
My good friend, Chris Mason, giving it "everything" here. If I am ever trapped inside something that only a "strong man" can open, I'm just telling them to call Chris. Not to worry :)
I took some time to wander the grounds and look at all the vendors and displays that were set up. Seemed as though everywhere you went, folks with a thick Scottish accent were talking with one another over the table tops of displays lining both sides of the park walk way. All kinds of exhibitors, displaying their wares from all across the U.S. and the countries of Scotland and Ireland were there greeting visitors as they stopped to inspect each tent's offering. It was one of the friendliest atmospheres I believe I've ever seen . I made an interesting observation as I watched people go in and out of the tents~the vendors were there to sell their things, to be sure. But even more than the desire to make a living, they were as much interested in promoting "good will" among all the people in attendance. They wanted people to understand, whether they were Scottish or Irish or anything else, that they welcomed them into their worlds for a little bit today. And you know, I kind of liked that.
At one of the tents, I was visiting with the lady running it and explained to her that I had been born with the last name of "Scott". Without hesitation she answered back to me, "Oh, well then you'd be of the Scott Clan then." I looked at her a little funny, I'm sure. I had never thought of being a member of a clan, heck I hardly knew anything about my Scottish ancestry. She told me that I needed to walk to the end of the pathway where the "Scott" clan members were, that it was important to know where I came from. "It's right down the way", she told me. "You cannot miss it, just look for 'Scott'." And sure enough, she was right.
Ok, this is the weird part about today. When I woke up this morning, I had no clue that I would find out anything in McPherson that would make me feel different. I was going to the Scottish Festival to have fun and see something new for a change. That was it. Turns out I was wrong.
As I stood there in front of my "own" name I began to realize what precious little I knew about my father's ancestors. When I was child, I can remember Mom talking about the fact that the Scott family had come over from Scotland but that was all she knew. I "blew off" that part of my heritage because nothing was known anyway and even though I had tried to find out things in the past, I always had "zero luck". Now as I've become older and "marginally" wiser, I've learned that genealogy can be quite fun. With the ever changing advances of technology, information about your family line is much more accessible. After my experience today, I feel sure that it's time to start exploring where else I came from and that's just what I intend to do.
How about you all? Any of you studying your family's "tree"? Even if you are not, there are many things that you can do to make it easier for those who follow you and have the desire to document their heritage. I'd say that one of the greatest helps you can provide is to continue to talk with your children about your life. Get out that box of photos, you know the one that has hundreds of pictures but no information as to who they might be? Sit down with your children and verify who the people in the photographs are. Scan them into the computer~getting them organized is half the battle (well at least for me). Hang on to records of marriages, births, deaths, service to country. I know it sounds unusual, but I have an entire folder filled with photos of headstones of family members. The information recorded therein is a way to verify what information others may have.
Well, the day will soon be done. It's been a great weekend, perhaps one of the best I've had for a long time. Never thought that a visit to a Scottish festival would provide me with yet another "Bucket List" idea. But it has~I have very little to go on in order to figure out my father's side of the family but at least I have a start. My quest is to begin tracing it back. One thing I am positive of, my paternal ancestry is Scottish. I surely DON'T think that somewhere, way back along the line, a family was sitting around the kitchen table trying to figure out what they'd call themselves, so they threw 5 letters together in a pot and drew them out one by one, spelling S C O T T. My name came from somewhere and I think I will have fun and be proud as I find out~ Have a great evening friends~never forget from whence you came to be.
The greatest "Scott" that I ever knew~my father, John B. Scott, Jr. He gave me the gift of his name.
And HIS father before him~John B. Scott, Sr.~the "ice man".
At one of the tents, I was visiting with the lady running it and explained to her that I had been born with the last name of "Scott". Without hesitation she answered back to me, "Oh, well then you'd be of the Scott Clan then." I looked at her a little funny, I'm sure. I had never thought of being a member of a clan, heck I hardly knew anything about my Scottish ancestry. She told me that I needed to walk to the end of the pathway where the "Scott" clan members were, that it was important to know where I came from. "It's right down the way", she told me. "You cannot miss it, just look for 'Scott'." And sure enough, she was right.
As I stood there in front of my "own" name I began to realize what precious little I knew about my father's ancestors. When I was child, I can remember Mom talking about the fact that the Scott family had come over from Scotland but that was all she knew. I "blew off" that part of my heritage because nothing was known anyway and even though I had tried to find out things in the past, I always had "zero luck". Now as I've become older and "marginally" wiser, I've learned that genealogy can be quite fun. With the ever changing advances of technology, information about your family line is much more accessible. After my experience today, I feel sure that it's time to start exploring where else I came from and that's just what I intend to do.
How about you all? Any of you studying your family's "tree"? Even if you are not, there are many things that you can do to make it easier for those who follow you and have the desire to document their heritage. I'd say that one of the greatest helps you can provide is to continue to talk with your children about your life. Get out that box of photos, you know the one that has hundreds of pictures but no information as to who they might be? Sit down with your children and verify who the people in the photographs are. Scan them into the computer~getting them organized is half the battle (well at least for me). Hang on to records of marriages, births, deaths, service to country. I know it sounds unusual, but I have an entire folder filled with photos of headstones of family members. The information recorded therein is a way to verify what information others may have.
Well, the day will soon be done. It's been a great weekend, perhaps one of the best I've had for a long time. Never thought that a visit to a Scottish festival would provide me with yet another "Bucket List" idea. But it has~I have very little to go on in order to figure out my father's side of the family but at least I have a start. My quest is to begin tracing it back. One thing I am positive of, my paternal ancestry is Scottish. I surely DON'T think that somewhere, way back along the line, a family was sitting around the kitchen table trying to figure out what they'd call themselves, so they threw 5 letters together in a pot and drew them out one by one, spelling S C O T T. My name came from somewhere and I think I will have fun and be proud as I find out~ Have a great evening friends~never forget from whence you came to be.
The greatest "Scott" that I ever knew~my father, John B. Scott, Jr. He gave me the gift of his name.
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