I love history. I love to read about the people in history but I'm not all that enamored with the dates. My brother knows all the dates. I cannot tell you how often we have gone somewhere or watched some movie on TV only for him to ask, "Now who was queen in England? or What was happening in America during this time?" I don't know. The movie is not about England or America. If you ask me a question about individuals I can respond (though not as completely as he). I know the little things are just as important but I like the living, breathing kind of history.
So you ask, what is living history? My favorite thing!
The first I really knew of living history was about 20 years ago. I went to an event at Fort Richardson in Texas. I was in the commanding officer's home and was mesmerized by a man who talked in first person. I could see the cocky young general, George Armstrong Custer, he spoke of in his custom made uniform. I could feel the cloth and see the gleam of his sword! That man made Custer a living person for me. He could have been in the room with us and I would have easily recognized his arrogance.
Now I have the joy and privilege of participating myself. To be honest I starting learning things right after that so I could play too.
I taught my Girl Scouts to sew so they could make clothes and go with me to the Fort. They taught kids how to play games of the period. That was such fun. I never chased a round hoop but I played with a hoola-hoop. It's just not the same as pushing a large wooden hoop across the rough ground. The girls learned to play jacks with a wooden ball. I wonder how many young girls today can play jacks or have even tried. We've lost many of the games children played in the past, including Graces.
This last weekend I went to the Fort. We had school kids come on Friday and the public on Saturday. About mid-day I had a 14 year old boy that challenged me. He was honest when he blurted into the south ward of the hospital that he was "bored". In my usual form I replied, "well let me see if I can change that for you." I started telling the most disgusting story I knew about the hospital. He perked up and by the time I'd told 3 or 4 we were best buds. OK, not really but he stopped complaining for the rest of the tour.
Saturday I got the compliment I have sought for all my years volunteering. One of the guys from the front office came to tell me they had received multiple compliments about the Fort but one particular compliment was for the woman in the red dress. Those folks said I made history come alive! I know those people from my tour will remember my little bit of history. It was life in the Fort. It wasn't about a battle; it was just life. People remember life.
It's my hope we all remember our own "living" histories. Nothing like sharing a story from your youth with kids to make you remember those good old days. We sure had some, didn't we?
Long Live Texas
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