“Reunions”

I admit I have a bit of jealousy when I see a group of 50+ people parading through Estes Park, all wearing lime green tee shirts. Embossed on them in bold letters and cool cheesy graphics something like “Baker Family Reunion 2023”. My family used to have a yearly “Pumphrey Pigout”. The last one about 13 years ago, was the unintended “Grand Finale”. It was epic. My young cousin Clint out—did himself—yes with T—shirts.

This yearly blowout just faded away. My sister Rita and I were reminiscing about Pigouts of days gone by. There was the one where a former fiancé of mine hurdled her engagement ring down the street. I found the ring and later cashed it in for rings with MK. We roasted pigs, had ‘pass it on trophies’, and dozens of “Un—PUMPHREYS” who came just for the entertainment. Yes, from 1974 until 2010 it was an annual event.

I have wondered why they ceased to be. I came up with two reasons: 1) my mom Pat, the matriarch, died in 2010. In her quiet way she knew how to gather the flock 2) It was tradition that whoever was named that year’s reigning “Pumphrey Pig”, was responsible for hosting the next years event. For all of my cousin Clint’s efforts, the “Pumphrey” he picked evidently had no appetite for carrying on the tradition.

Not a word has been heard… and the Pigout, like so many rural towns in the Oklahoma Panhandle, has melted away. My sister Rita and I are plotting a resurrection. 13 years has created a Diaspora of the Pumphrey Clan. After things settle down at the newly rejuvenated “Casa Bonita”, we hope in the next year to reserve a room and restart the tradition. Who knows where the four—foot high traveling trophy is??? And we had a large papier-mâché piggy bank that was full of donations from over the years. No one is talking.

My uncle “Po—Pig” will turn a very lucid 99 this August. In his own words he has said “who knows how much time I have left”. I would love it if we could have a “Po Turns 100” blowout in 2024. I can hear him say “Don’t plan on it”. Well, I can tell you what I will be blogging about the first week of August. My dad’s little brother, Paul Junior aka Po.

Maybe I will make up a few tee shirts that say “Hundredth Pumphrey Reunion” and invite the remnant of family to walk around Estes Park with me. If that Baker crew shows up with their hoard of Nebraskans looking for popcorn, we can walk smugly past them knowing that the PUMPHREYS moved to Colorado in 1886. (True)

Onward and Upward,

Mark