there's been a big family pride renaissance in The Family as of late. first, i assembled the family forward, prompting the paint-by-numbers to go back up on the wall. then my mum published a keepsake recipe collection. and now my father is digitally archiving the family photo albums.
it was this project that led to the discovery of a photograph of the man who begat betsy vaught, who begat william baldwin, who begat david martin, who begat earl martin, who begat jessie martin, who begat grandma ruth, who begat my father, who begat me. the great, ghostily dashing jonathan vaught. who, by all appearances, himself was begat by an illicit somewhere in time-style love affair between cotton mather and sojourner truth.
now we know where i get my good looks.