The Carleton Men

"We are the Carleton Men!" One of my sons proudly proclaimed that to me one day. I told him, "Yes We Are!" And he went merrily on his way.

I got to thinking about what that means. Family heritage has always been a big part of my life. I was honored to carry the Carleton name, because I knew that I came from a long line of Carleton's that may have not changed history, but I'm sure we're proud of their heritage as well. Even after finding out about my adoption at birth, it didn't change the fact that they had chosen me to be their child. I was a Carleton, forever and always.

I can remember my Uncle Bettis, always telling me stories about growing up. He gave me quite a bit of insight into the legacy of the Carleton's. When I got old enough, I started researching our surname and was able to trace back our roots with some help of other Carleton geneologists all the way back to 1700 Virginia.

Obviously, my glimpse of the Carleton men was provided to me by my father, William. He was a hard worker all of his life, doing so many different things around the house, that I always wondered how he learned all of it. I guess by watching his father. My dad was a U.S. Navy Veteran. That's how we really first connected, by searching for his old Navy buddies, even attending a few reunions where I got to meet some of them. He told me endless stories about being on the ship, the crew he served with, and all the good times he had. Often, we'd end up at the local Veterans of Foreign Wars post on a Saturday afternoon for a cold drink or a beer and plenty of free popcorn where something would remind him of another adventure he had. And he always laughed about it.

We became very close friends in the five years between mom's death and his own. Mom had raised me mostly because Dad was always working, first in the Navy, then construction, then at John Deere. But after Mom's death, my dad and I got to know each other for the very first time. We went to Chicago Cubs baseball games, went on trips to see family, watched pro wrestling on television, and I started a baseball card collection for him since he became a big fan of the Atlanta Braves games on TV. I asked his blessing to marry my wife, making sure he would not feel that I had abandoned him, and he was there at the hospital just before a big wrestling pay-per-view to hold his first grandchild. My daugher was the light of his life. He absolutely beemed when I asked him to hold her or feed her or to watch her if my wife and I were going out to the store. We went to the hardware store, watched the Braves on the tube, and as little as she was, she'd try to help Dad fix things. I'm just as sure he'd be as proud of his Carleton boys, had he lived to see them born.

So when my son excitedly proclaimed that he was a Carleton Man, I chuckled to myself. And said, "Yes We Are....." And I look forward to the day when my children will give me sons and daughters of their own. And I'll think of Dad, and of all the Carleton's that had come before.