My very Irish-identified grandfather had many fond memories of his redheaded grandmother.
When his first grandchild by blood was expected he announced very clearly that he expected a redheaded granddaughter. Now this was a much easier task for my aunt and uncle to meet being as my uncle was a fiery redhead himself. The chances were pretty good that my grandfather would get his wish. But one should be careful just how strongly a wish is stated.
My cousin Judy was indeed born with a classic carrot-top shade of red hair and the entire attitude to go along with it. About the time she was 4 years old, my parents were getting married. This made Judy the perfect candidate for flower-girl at their wedding. She was completely adorable right up to the point when my parents were about to say their vows. Just then, she threw herself to the floor in front of the altar and proceeded to demonstrate the characteristic temperamental wrath of a redhead. The family has long since forgotten the tantrum, but everyone knows what my father whispered to my mother at the beginning of their vows.
"If we have a redheaded child, I'm drowning it at birth."
A few years later, out I popped with golden red locks. Thankfully Judy's hair was a much darker red than mine so I was spared the drowning on the grounds that I was not in fact a redhead, but a strawberry blond. But everyone (especially my grandfather) knew that I was every bit a redhead.
16 years later, there was one more grandchild born in my generation while my grandfather was alive. She was yet another redhead born to parents about as likely to have one as mine were. My grandfather was a preacher for most of his adult life and to this day my family still ponders what strings he pulled with God to get 3 redheaded granddaughters.
Note from Anne: Thank you, Amy, for being a Red Friend. Amy is a 32 year old redhead from Seattle.
(c) 2010 Anne Lindsay All rights reserved. Photograph by (c) Bob Edmiston.
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