What's In A Name?

Undoubtedly you've noticed that both Kari and Bryce have the distinction of carrying rather unusual middle names.

Even before Kari was born, I knew this firstborn child would inherit the Witherspoon name. As my mom's maiden name, and coming from a family of four girls, she knew the name would die with her generation. In her attempt to keep the name going, I inherited Witherspoon as my middle name. Let me tell you, growing up (and even now) I never met another Holly Witherspoon, but I loved it so much that even after I got married I kept Witherspoon as my middle name rather than going to Holly Haugstad Keckler. I hope Kari will be as proud to carry the Witherspoon name as I have been. The Witherspoon name is rich with American, Scottish and Presbyterian history. We chose the variation of spelling of Kari to represent her Scandinavian heritage.

Uncle Ronald with Mark and me with Uncle Lee.

Bryce's middle name also has a story to tell. Bryce Leland, quite simply, is named after my favorite uncle. Uncle Ronald and Uncle Lee, brothers and lifelong bachelors, remained on the family farm their whole lives. They were actually my dad's uncles, my great uncles, Bryce's great-great uncles.

I know I can say with unwavering certainty that all the Milwaukee cousins and family also have similar fond memories of Uncle Ronald and Lee and the farm. Spending time on the farm was an important part of everyone's childhood, and for those who were lucky enough, into adulthood.

I have so many fond memories of my summers spent there. Exploring all around the barns and outbuildings was probably a favorite pastime of most of the cousins. Playing in the corn crib and having corn cob "fights" against Mark or any other cousin who might have been visiting at the same time was a timeless favorite. It was always fun to climb to the top of the pile when the crib was full. Although by the time I was old enough to remember Uncle Ronald and Lee had retired from milking cows so the barn was usually empty, less a few barn cats or a cow or two, but it was still always fun to run through the stalls. Above was a huge hay loft and although I always wanted to go up and play among the huge rectangular bales, kids were never allowed up there. Uncle Lee was very protective of all the kids and was always afraid one of us would fall through a chute. Mark, in particular it seems, loved driving the yellow riding lawn mower, working on his driving skills years before he would be ready to take his drivers test.

Uncle Lee and Uncle Ronald.  This was NOT Mike the dog.

The resident canine, Mike, was not your typical farm Collie. He was nothing short of a mean mut. Forget about petting his coarse and wiry black fur. He would greet any vehicle coming up to the house nipping at the wheels and then as soon as the car was parked would mark his territory on all four tires.

Uncle Lee was remembered for his sugar cookies and growing gladiolas. I don't think there was ever a time I walked through the kitchen door and was not offered a sugar cookie from a tin. Uncle Lee had a pretty good green thumb and every July you could find the side of the barn almost overcome with stalks of glads. I still smile and think of him when I see a bucket of glads at the farmers market or grocery store.

But probably what he is most remembered for was his love for horses.  All the kids learned about horses with Buck Touhey.  Buck was old and lame even when I was little, but was such a gentle and patient horse.  I always thought of him as my horse, but I'm sure probably most of the cousins did too.  I spent many hours leading Buck around the yard, practicing taking on and off his halter and feeding him carrots, apples and clover.


As a city kid growing up in the suburbs of Chicago, spending time out at the farm was such a unique experience for me and one I will always cherish.  I still don't claim to know much about life on a farm, but I do possess the experiences of riding a horse, feeling the wet, slobbery nose of a cow, the smell of manure, and roaming over acres and acres of pasture as far as the eye could see.  Even though the farmhouse and land have long since been sold, I hope Bryce, and Kari too, will somehow have an opportunity to experience a small sliver of farm life, just like me.