1. Patriotism & Genealogy
By Shanon Quinn
Here is my best ‘Lieutenant Dan’ impression. “I have ancestors who have fought and
died in every single American war,” not to mention several of the Irish, Scottish, and
Roman persuasion. It sounds rather self-serving, but it is true. Genealogy has become a
great passion of mine within the last few months. It is humbling to read and research
those long dead who gave their time, their blood and some even their lives for posterity.
It is prideful too. Ten years ago I supported our brave boys in arms because it was right,
five years ago, because I was infected with the fierce pain and fury that most Americans
experienced after September 11th. Two years ago, my primary reason was that my baby
brother Sean was among them. Now, I respect and adore them for all of those reasons, as
well as for the heart pounding thankfulness that I feel towards all of the living and dead
soldiers in the history of this country. America is a work in progress, but generations of
soldiers are responsible for much of the good in it.
My latest claim to fame (intentional cliché) is the identity of my Eleventh Great
Grandfather, Stephen Hopkins, merchant, passenger of the Mayflower and signer of the
Mayflower Compact. Additionally, my recently discovered relationships with the
Roosevelt’s, Bouvier’s, Kennedy’s, Rodney’s, Bush’s , Gerry’s, Garfield’s, Van Buren’s,
Carters, Pierces, Nixon’s and Buchanan’s have deepened my sense of patriotism. The
Census and Social Security records tell me that I come from a line of great and successful
people. I want so badly to be one of them.
The military wouldn’t take me. At eighteen years of age I was five feet, one inch and
ninety eight pounds. All the cheeseburgers and ice cream that I ate wouldn’t add the
pounds that I needed to be a soldier. Four years later, my much huskier brother signed up,
and spent over a year in Iraq. Although my family and I jumped at every phone call,
worried, cried and lived in fear for those fourteen months, all of that is forgotten as my
seven year old daughter informs everyone that she meets that, “my uncle Sean is a hero.
He fought in the war to protect all of us.”
And so I learn. I work, attend college, raise my girls, love my husband and do my best to
help the world. I also write. Perhaps the genes of O. Henry, Helen Keller, Truman
Capote, Edgar Lee Masters and F. Scott Fitzgerald have reached me after all.
I love my country as much as I love those who have, and those who continue to fight for
it. All of our ancestors expect that from us. They fixed what was broken, died for what
was right and paid with their blood for the lifestyles which we enjoy.