First of all, let me say thank you to everyone who sent me e-mails about THEIR relatives’ peculiar, odd, or long names! Fascinating stuff! I did notice that the majority of the notorious nomenclature seemed to arise from the South…proving, of course, that Southerners are more creative!
So, to continue the Name Saga, I submit for your perusal my children: Charles Franklin Coffin IV, Donald Tristram Coffin, Kathleen Dionys Coffin, and Seth Robert Coffin, respectively. The eldest is named for his father, but we call him Chip. Tristram’s first name comes from my father, but his middle name, and the name he goes by, comes from the first Coffin to come to America. That was back in 1642. The original Tristram apparently supported the wrong side in the English Civil War, though we’re not entirely sure which side that was. (Clearly, more research is necessary—and a field trip!)
But anyway, it became prudent to pull up stakes and get out of Dodge…or Brixton, as the case may be. He settled first in the town of New Bedford, Massachusetts, where his wife, Dionys, opened her own tavern and made excellent beer.
Dionys, apparently, was quite a character—unusually liberated for the times. She charged seven pence a tankard, whereas most of the tavernkeepers charged five, and still she got the lion’s share of the business in town. Her aggrieved competitors had her brought up on charges for “price gouging.” Yes! They had it even back then! Dionys, however, brought samples into court and PROVED her beer was better than everyone else’s, and so deserved the higher price. And she won! (There are two alternate spellings of “Dionis/Dionys,” just as there are two alternate spellings of “Coffin/Coffyn.” My daughter’s birth certificate says “Dionis,” even though I distinctly remember spelling it “Dionys” for the nurse. Kathleen prefers “Dionys,” so that settles it.)
My youngest son, Seth, is named for Seth Coffin, (not in our direct line, but still a relative) who was a whaling captain in the 1800’s. He also has quite a story. Yes, it probably isn’t true—but as the great writer Robert Heinlein once said, “since when do we let truth stand in the way of a good anecdote?” Seems “Uncle Seth” was out at sea, in pursuit of cetaceans, and one of the ungrateful beasts objected. Strenuously. And proceeded to crush the captain’s leg. Gangrene set in, and Seth had a big problem. Not only was there no doctor on board, and no one on the ship had ever performed an amputation, but Seth himself was the only person present who had even seen an amputation. The legend goes that he called his first mate in and told him, “My leg must come off. You are going to do it. I will tell you how.” The first mate reportedly said, “hell, no,” and Captain Seth held a flensing knife to his throat, and said, “hell, YES.” (Icky historical fact: A flensing knife is one of those big blades which was used to strip the blubber off the whales.) Thus, Uncle Seth directed the amputation of his own leg, without anesthesia. It is said that afterward both men fainted. But the operation must have been a success, because Seth lived well into his 80’s.
The moral of this story is: Don’t mess with those Coffins, they’re a tough crowd.
