Well, it’s a day that obviously wasn’t going to conform. To anyone fearing joblessness, I can tell you—it’s not hard. (As long as you have someone—thanks, Mr. Fernández!—who does have a job…) But there are rules.
Readers will know that the day begins with the trot. Actually, it’s now a modified trot-plunge-retrot. (Go the Escambrón beach, swim for five minutes, return home….) Right—did that. Then went to see Charisse’s brother’s wife’s mother (I think) in the hospital.
This, of course, only makes sense when seen through Puerto Rican / Caribbean eyes. Seen through gringo eyes, it would almost be an affront to visit someone on the strength of so—well—weak a connection. But Puerto Rico is blessed with excellent doctors.
The problem?
It’s also cursed with horrible hospitals.
And Cbwm’s (come on—I can’t be writing Charisse’s brother’s et cetera forever) is elderly and in frail health and—more importantly—doesn’t speak Spanish.
Well—I know about that. So I went off to the hospital, on the assumption that visiting hours would start at ten. (I can hear you—that maternal exasperation rising in your voice—“well, did you ASK???” Nooooooo!)
Good news—the hospital has a Starbucks—very nice doppio espresso….
A child of corporate America, I bring you the solution, not the problem.
I’ll go back at 1PM….
Right. So the post has not been written, and that’s major. That’s a sin. As you know, my international readership (curiously, the blog got 66 hits from Russia last week—don’t know what that’s about) is both famously discerning and way exigent. A day that goes by without a post provokes howls. Or at least nasty emails…..
Well, it’s now 12:30—and what have I done?
Worried my head about the Taliaferros.
Eric knows someone who knows a Taliaferro who considers Madison her home.
Well, Jack knew the Taliaferros, and talked about them, and deemed them a good, upright family—and no, that’s not condescension. You had to work hard to get those words outta the old man’s lips.
And I thought—couldn’t be sure—that the family was one of the oldest black families in town. Which would make them damn interesting—Madison being not known then for excessive racial heterogeneity. (Marc? Could you just talk straight? Town was lily white!)
Well, google Taliaferro and what do you get?
One of the fascinating things about Wikipedia is its variability. Sometimes it has a lacuna of information, other times it’s almost embarrassingly rich.
Well, I’d bet that the Taliaferro family has an ardent genealogist, and he / she certainly gets right down to business! Starts off with a bang!
Taliaferro (/ˈtɒlɪvər/ tol-i-vər), also spelled Talifero,Tellifero Tolliver, or Toliver,[1] is a prominent family in the United States Commonwealth of Virginia. The Taliaferros (originally Tagliaferro, Italian pronunciation: [ˌtaʎʎaˈfɛrro], which means "ironcutter" in Italian) are one of the early families who settled in Virginia in the 17th century. They migrated from London, where an ancestor had served as a musician in the court of Queen Elizabeth I. The surname in that line is believed to trace back to Bartholomew Taliaferro, a native of Venice who settled in London and was made a denizen in 1562.[2]
Right—notice how quickly we take an Italian name, make it Venetian, and then throw in the reference to Queen Elizabeth I! A nice way of saying—we’re no pizzeria owners here!
Nor does he relax his grip….
A legend exists about the name having originated in Roman times in what was called Cisalpine Gaul, which leads many bearers of the name to believe that their ancestors were actually French, not Italian, since Gaul is generally known to be the ancient name for today's France; however, Gaul was a term applied to a very wide region that also comprised the whole of northern Italy. Tagliaferro is indeed a common surname in northeastern Italy, especially in the area around Venice.
Arms of Tagliaferro family of Tuscany. Sketch sent from Thomas Jefferson to George Wythe, 1786
The origins of the Taliaferro name were of interest to George Wythe, Virginia colonial lawyer and classical scholar, who had married a Taliaferro. Wythe urged his former student and friend Thomas Jefferson to investigate the name when Jefferson traveled to Italy. Jefferson later reported to Wythe that he had found two families of the name in Tuscany, and that the family was of Italian origin.[3] Jefferson enclosed his sketch of the coat-of-arms of the Tagliaferro family as reported to him by a friend in Florence, Italy.[4]
Well—having Tom Jefferson poking into the family heritage is something of a feat! Then follows a list of some twenty prominent people, all bearing the name of Taliaferro.
Curiously, clicking on any one of the links brings the same vast quantity of information—could it be?
The plot thickens into something the consistency of oatmeal when the author of the article (why do I think it might be a Taliaferro?) throws in info on people whose middle name was Taliaferro. He starts with Dr. John Taliaferro Close—who has a daughter named “Glenn.”
Ends with Booker T. Washington.
Say whahhhh?
Yup, that “T” you’ve been saying for years is actually a Taliaferro. And guess what! Here’s a couple of lines from Wikipedia’s article on Booker….
Washington was born into slavery to Jane, an enslaved African-American woman on the Burroughs Plantation in southwest Virginia. She never identified his white father, said to be a nearby planter; he played no significant role in Washington's life. His family gained freedom in 1865 as the Civil War ended, and his mother took them to West Virginia to join her husband.
Well, mother may never have said who the father was, but ask me, and I’ll tell you.
She wrote it, and on the birth certificate!
Well, Booker, it seems, was a little more than just that nice verging-on-Oreo educator from Alabama. Here’s what one historian has to say….
Historians note that Washington, "advised, networked, cut deals, made threats, pressured, punished enemies, rewarded friends, greased palms, manipulated the media, signed autographs, read minds with the skill of a master psychologist, strategized, raised money, always knew where the camera was pointing, traveled with an entourage, waved the flag with patriotic speeches, and claimed to have no interest in partisan politics. In other words, he was an artful politician."[1]
Oh ho! Damn, that’s good! Why can’t I write like that? Here’s the citation, by the way….
Michael Scott Bieze and Marybeth Gasman, eds. (26 March 2012). Booker T. Washington Rediscovered. Johns Hopkins UP. p. 209.
Well, we’re a long way from Madison, Wisconsin and the Taliaferro. Except not. Actually, Booker T. Washington was invited to Madison, and spoke before 4000 people at—I’m guessing here—the Stock Pavilion.
OK—it’s clear. This day is wasted. I have produced nothing of worth today—barring having cleared up the mystery of Booker T. Washington’s biological father (send the check, historians, to POB 902…oh forget it!) So I might just as well call up Gary—who can clear up the mystery if anyone can.
He’s on it like a sailor in a whorehouse after a six-month stretch at sea. Takes him just an hour.
Odell Taliaferro—head of the Madison chapter of the NAACP.
Oh, and the Taliaferro whom friends of Eric know?
Here she is!
