The Name Game

“Brenda, Brenda, bo-renda
Banana-fana fo-frenda
Fee-fi-fo-mrenda
Brenda!’

Remember that tune?  The Name Game, written and performed by Shirley Ellis back in 1964?  Of course, I inserted my name instead of hers but that rhyming name game tune was a huge hit.  Anyone alive back then couldn’t forget it.

Why that ever entered my mind is a complete mystery to me. But, I’ve been thinking a lot about names lately.  Every now and then, I get on my ancestry.com kick.  It’s nothing if not fascinating.  Basically, all I can find out are names, birth and death dates and where they lived, and the further you go back, the harder it is to learn even the basic facts.

But, I just enjoy looking at the names.  There’s the Irish side, the French side, the Danish side.  How interesting it is to see which names have been passed down from generation to generation.

On the Danish side, Andrew has endured five generations, starting with my great grandfather who was actually an Anders, the Danish version of the name.  Then came my grandfather, Andrew Christian, followed by my father and brother, both named Andrew Evald, another Danish name.  My son is Justin Andrew and I have a cousin and his son who are both Andys.
Nothing survived on the female side, although I like the name Astrid, which was my grandmother’s middle name but, evidently, no one else did.

Remember the Potato Famine in the 1840s?  Neither do I, but that inspired the three Kelley sisters to immigrate to New Orleans:  Rose, Grace and Mary, all very young.  Very Irish names, of course.  Mary ended up being my great, great grandmother.  She married a man 15 years her senior, Pique Dominique, who was a very well off, retired merchant and they had six children, four girls and two boys.  There were no Marys but there was a Grace and a Rose.

Looking at the written Federal Census is a lesson in handwriting and spelling.  The handwriting is either absolutely beautiful or unintelligible.  The spelling, at least in the Mobile, Alabama, census I saw left a lot to be desired.  The Dominiques became the Domonicks.  Pique morphed to Piciew.  Francois was Franscwa.   And, somehow, Grace was Lucretia.  But, I’m getting sidetracked here.

Mary’s daughter, Grace, my great grandmother, married Maximo Suck, who claimed to have immigrated from England, but we’re fairly certain he was Jewish and from Germany.  They had three daughters, Eulalie, Grace and Lucille.  So, that’s three generations of Grace.  Only Lucille married and, of course, the first child was named…..you guessed it!  Grace.  My mother.  And, although, she didn’t name my sister or me Grace, my brother named his youngest daughter, Emileigh Grace.  So, there you have it….five generations of Grace.

Then, there’s Lucille.  Lots of those, too.  There’s my grandmother, but there’s also my grandfather’s mother, her mother-in-law:  Lucille Elizabeth.  That was the merging of the Georgia dirt farmer with the Mobile aristocracy.  I don’t recommend it…lol.

My grandmother named her daughter, Helen Lucille.  My mother named me Brenda Lucille and now my cousin’s daughter is named Kathryn Lucille.  Another five generations name.  Heaven knows how many there were before my great grandparents and how many will follow.

I love learning about my family and the names that are passed on.  Sometimes, I wish I’d done this years ago but It was a whole lot harder pre ancestry.com.  I highly recommend it!