Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Father of the Man by Dr. Peter Colman

“Good morning,” we intoned.

“Morn’n,” he replied, without changing his expression or position, or his preoccupation with the potatoes. I couldn’t help but think of the familiar New England story of the city-slicker who happened by the home of a similar old gentleman – “Heh, how’s it go’in,” inquired the young man. “Howdy,” responded the kindly gentleman. “Have you lived here all your life?” After which followed an extended pause. “Not yet,’ was his response. End of conversation.

Somehow, that morning, I found myself taking the lead. After all, my Dad had been gracious enough to chauffeur us to the spot. The least I could do was volunteer as virtual tour guide. I smiled and extended my hand in greeting:

“My name is Peter Colman. This is my Dad, Robert Colman, and this is my son, Jonathan, three generations,” I beamed. “Would you be kind enough to help us with some information? We’re looking for Horace Colman.” For some strange reason, which I only now think of as I write, I assumed that Horace was still alive. There was a long, guarded silence, and then the gentleman asked rather nonchalantly, and with just a pinch of justifiable suspicion:

“Why do you want to see Horace?”

“He is my Dad’s uncle and my great-uncle, my grandfather, Sumner Chase’s brother.” There was a longer, but innocuous silence.




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