As Labor Day rolls into the rearview and another chapter closes, September and October bring introspection. I’ve been thinking about the word legacy, defined as the traditions, values or achievements left behind for future generations, or a lasting effect created by a past event, person or civilization.
I recently read an article in The SandPaper about a 50th reunion of the employees at Andy’s in Barnegat Light – that was held at the still-thriving Andy’s. The ongoing debate about the legacy of White’s Market in Barnegat Light, and what it will or will not be, is a constant feature on the local Facebook sites.
In July I attended the annual Golden Family Reunion in Friendsville, Pa., about 30 miles west of Binghamton, N.Y. The story has always been told that upon her death in 1939 my great-great-grandmother Mary left money in her will to fund a party to be held once a year so that her 11 children and their descendants would return to the farm and celebrate the family legacy. Well, we attended the 86th family reunion this year, and the newest Goldens were added to the official family tree – a piece of ever-growing oak tag/poster board that traces the Goldens from the first to arrive here to the latest to arrive here. I’d say that’s a legacy kept.
In August, I had the joy of hosting my 92-year-old mother together with my kids and grandchildren at which time we celebrated a new pool. Mom told all the old stories about what it was like growing up in the Bronx, raising six kids (and Pops) in the suburbs in changing times, and how we survived on an FDNY salary, and I got to watch the family legacy being passed from one generation to another.
Then Dolly passed.
Imagine the impact of a life when the obituary of a woman who wrote over 3,000 songs, sold more than 100 million records, and won 11 Grammys doesn’t even lead with that, but focuses on what she gave away: 300 million books donated through her Imagination Library, a million dollars donated towards vaccine research, millions more to children’s hospitals. Dollywood alone has created more than 23,000 local jobs in Pigeon Forge, Tenn., and brings in an annual economic impact of almost $2 billion to the region. Not to mention cash awards to every kid in her home town who graduates high school. Now that’s a legacy. And it’s huge. But it’s only one story.
Recently, I was invited to celebrate the 90th birthday of our 24th Street friend and neighbor Lee. On a late September Saturday, over 100 family, neighbors and friends gathered at his home to celebrate the legacy of this kind, no-nonsense Irishman who has the gift of gab and the twinkle of a leprechaun in his eyes. Stories were told, music played, new neighbors were met and the social networks of the attendees were expanded. All those people took the time because of what Lee gave away over his 90 years. That’s a legacy to be proud of.
All of this legacy on the brain gives me pause to think: What’s my legacy? Beyond having had a successful enough work life to be able to retire in Barnegat Light, what will I have to show for myself when my last sun sets?
In my life, I’ve had no money, and I’ve had some money. Having some money is better, but it’s not a legacy unless it is used to help others when you can, as my parents taught me. I’ve had little power and I’ve had a lot of power, but having power over others is not a legacy unless it is used to help others better themselves, as Dolly did. I’ve had close friends and I’ve had acquaintances, but it’s not a legacy unless you cultivate them the way that Lee has.
I think it all comes down to caring and kindness. In a world that increasingly seems to want us to keep it for ourselves, to diminish others as a way to enrich ourselves, I choose Dolly. I choose Lee. I choose to try and be worthy of a legacy like theirs. I’m not saying I am or ever will be, but I’m saying I’ll try. And hopefully that is legacy enough.
Greg Golden lives in Barnegat Light.
