One of Regina’s distant cousins died a few weeks ago, and we discovered more things at the funeral about her expansive family than we really needed to know.
The relative who passed away was a respected member of the East Texas community where he spent most of his life. He was a leader in business and civic activities.
He was big in the Methodist church, which brought out its first team to conduct the last rites. Current and former pastors spoke, and the music minister did stirring songs like It Is Well With My Soul.
It was during family visitation over casseroles and fried chicken after the funeral that Regina first heard details about a third or fourth cousin named Ned. She had heard of him but never met him.
One of Ned’s ex-wives was at the funeral, and she enlightened and entertained the mourners with stories about their colorful, departed relative.
Calling her one of Ned’s ex-wives was accurate. According to her accounts and other stories family members had heard about Ned, there were several more former wives.
Even after trying to get all of the biographical information about Ned sorted out that day, the closest they could come was that he was either married eight times and had nine children or married nine times and had eight children.
Having that many wives before passing on at a relatively young age seemed nearly impossible as we thought about it. Most divorces take a while. But then we learned that he was married to at least three of the wives at the same time.
Ned was a traveling salesman, the best anybody could ever tell, and some of his travels and a few of his wives were in Mexico and some other countries.
Former English-speaking wives like the one at the funeral tried to use this country’s rigid laws against being married to several people at once to nail Ned. Those efforts failed when our laws got tangled up with those in other parts of the world.
As for the children he had, either eight or nine, that was also a noteworthy achievement for a man faced with his unusual physical shortcomings.
Ned had all those wives and children despite a condition that struck him in his pre-teen years. Ladies, you might want to cover your ears if you keep reading. He had only one testicle.
Regina was the second youngest of eight children, so she missed out on several of the places her parents and siblings lived during her dad’s military career and on meeting some relatives like Ned.
But one of her older brothers was with Ned when he suffered the loss of the body part that his ex-wife talked about at the funeral.
Ned and Regina’s brother were 12 or so, and they were climbing over a barbed wire fence. When Ned jumped from the top of the fence, part of him stayed behind. Regina’s brother says neither he nor Ned ever climbed over another barbed wire fence.
So the story of the cousin who had eight or nine wives and eight or nine children and just one, well you know, has been well authenticated by an ex-wife and a relative who was an eye witness.
I thought about doing some research on Ned’s condition, but my hands shook every time I tried to type it in Google.
Those stories made the funeral interesting and comforted me with the knowledge that some of the unusual kinfolks in my family might not be as peculiar as I thought.
Like the great uncle who lived behind my granddad’s home in what had been a chicken house. There were several extra bedrooms and baths in the big house, but he preferred to live out back.
He was a recluse who never married or learned to drive or had a job. Uncle Willie would dart down the hall when my family or other folks visited, throw handfuls of peppermint sticks at us like it was a Mardi Gras parade and disappear.
Then there was this uncle named J.D. that I met only once. My dad warned us before he came to our house that he was strange. He walked in with a live monkey on his shoulder.
Uncle J.D. lit himself a cigarette and then lit another one and handed it to the monkey. They smoked while we visited.
My relatives seem more normal than they did before I heard about Ned.
REPRINTED FROM THE NATCHITOCHES TIMES