Woody Cavenaugh

Each second Sunday in December for as long as anyone can remember the clan Cavenaugh gathers at a community building in Duplin county known as "The pink supper house". Its covered dish, and ya'll come. 98% of all Cavenaugh's are living in the same county that our ancestors settled in in the year 1800. 1.5% of them live in Wilmington, and the other .5% live "elsewhere". That said, for the last 200 years my ancestors were farmers by trade and even though they mostly live a very short distance from one another, this event is often the only time they ever see each other where the guest of honor isn't laying in a coffin.

I go every year I can, because family is as important to me as it is to all Cavenaugh's and because it is the only time of the year I get to see any of them. I don't know if it is this way for everyone, but for me each year I look around and guage the health of the family. Not in the who has a heart problem and who has cancer kind of way, but more of a clan health meter kind of way. Are the same number people there each year? If someone dies is there a birth to offset it? I also find out about how things are going economically and socially in the area by looking at the spread. If there is plenty of food things are going well, if there is only a little food or the dishes have less in them at the start I know that times are hard. Duplin county was one of those devistated during huricane Floyd. It was a race to get the pink supper house ready by December and when we got there much of the food was store bought, and what was made at home wasn't much. That year people used the family reunion to take stock of our losses and to give thanks for what we had left.

Conversations are easy, who was born, who died, any new health problems to report, and usually there is someone who will tell you if you looked better last year or this year and why. It is reported that I look better than I have in years because I shaved. Sara reports that some of the Cavenaugh women hinted that she ought to start with the baby making. I don't know if its true or not, but it wouldn't surprise me if it was. I think we are the only married couple of child bearing age who don't have a youngon or two underfoot. This year I promised Sara that I wouldn't ask her to come anymore, as much as I want her there and need her there, (she's proof I'm married) Sara hates crowds with a phobia and hates the pressure to procreate even more. Its odd that in order to stay married I have to let go of the only way I can prove it each year. It might even count as ironic.

The entire reunion process from set up to locking the door is usually over in three to four hours. At the end, once the socializing is over and folks start packing up to leave, someone will read from "the book". The book is an old spiral bound notebook that serves two functions. Everyone signs the book each year to prove they were there, (this helps with tracking numbers and death rates). It also tells how much donated money remains in the account, how much renting the hall was, who died in the past year, what flower was purchased for the grave, and who was born. Then they pass a basked around collecting donations so there will be money to buy the flowers for the graves and rent the hall in the next year. The average turn out each year is about 60 and typically each year they can raise about a hundred and fifty dollars to keep the whole thing running. The only fear is that whoever happens to be organizing it the time dies. The last time that happened, before I was born, the whole event stumbled and fell. Eventually someone was able to pick up the reins and we have been going ever since. Now a days, the organizers are their own judge on the matter. If they are having health problems they will pass the torch to a healthy one just in case. I suspect in the next ten years or so someone of my generation will have to pick up the torch. They only prerequisite is they live in Duplin county so everything is right there where they are.

Did I mention the food is awsome?