He Wore Stilts but Refused the Highhorse

I have a dearly loved adopted cousin whose last name is Routh. He is the father of three adult children and numerous grandchildren. I recently discovered that his last name meant abundance and sent him a note to tell him. In the note I was referring to progeny but he sent me the following story about his father in response.

"Abundance can be displayed in many ways. If we go back to World War II a young Canadian non-com serving in England looked up a family named Routh in an attempt to trace his roots.

The Englishman gentleman assisting him asked the Canadian his name, "Bud" he replied. "Is that your full proper name?" inquired the British Routh. "No." Bud responded. After a momentary pause he reluctantly stated, "It is Horace Clair." Bud Routh on stilts & son circa 1964

At this point the Brit proudly asserted, "You are named after the Knight in the family, Sir Horatio Routh." "No, I'm named after my Father." was the disbelieving young man's quick reply.

Sure of the continuance of the lineage to the Lord, the Englishman said, "Then he was named after the Knight." At this point Bud Routh asked the only logical question, "What was he Knighted for?"

Family history tells us the English Routh's chest swelled and with overflowing pride announced, "He carried the rations through at the battle of Waterloo."

Here's where the other concept of, Routh meaning Abundance, enters the equation..... My Dad darted back, "A true Routh then, always thinking of his stomach!" There was little else that the English Routh wished to exchange with the Colonial Routh after that."

This story reveals so much about Ron's father. In my heart he is always laughing and telling wonderful funny stories, often poking fun at himself and the crazy things he had done, usually with hilarious outcomes attached. He had a robust spirit that was firmly grounded in the earth. He was not afraid to push the boundaries but he was most himself when he was savoring his homemade wine or sausage, working his eay through huge potluck dinners, calling square dances or dancing them.

I remember summer regattas where he and my father rigged canoes with amazing contraptions (no standard paddles allowed) and raced along the rocky shores of Lake Ontario near Pickering. The day wasn't complete until someone went in 'the drink'. The first to tip his fantasmagorical creation was always followed by the other who would leap with a tremendous Whoop! into the icy water.

I also remember the Routh Outdoor Drive-in Theater. Bud and my Dad would rig up a wooden frame, tack on a sheet and then we would all settle to watch home movies. These performances were side splittingly funny, especially with the accompanying narrations from Bud and my Father. When the evening was over, we would go home stuffed with popcorn and sides still aching from the laughter.

Compared to a man like that, a Knighthood, however honestly won, seems small in comparison.

Thank you for sharing your story with us, Ron. Be sure your abundant progeny read it.