His family came from the West. Or, more accurately, they came from the East to settle the west. They were originally Virginia planters; decendants of the English Cavaliers and had a Framer of the Bill of Rights to call their own. They were also French; come to the New World to escape the growing tide of revolution. And if the money and entitlement didn't follow them through the mountain passes and over the Great River and past the plains, then the nobility did. The sense of honor that will never die.

The two met, and fell in love like those from different worlds often do. They scratched out a living. He in the Army and She as a college graduate in the days when it was almost unheard of for a woman to proceed past high school, if at all. They married and slowly grew their family.

Their second daughter, gawky and awkward, could never seem to find her way in the world. Never popular, she viewed their move to the out-of-the-way western Maryland town as a chance to rebuild. There she met Him and the two became fast friends.

His mother's family had come from Germany. Stoic and hard working, they came to the farmlands of Pennsylvania to cultivate a new life - to work hard and reap the rewards. They were up early and to bed late, pausing only for the midday supper. Their values were handed down from child to child.

His father's people had come from england. Escaping what they saw as religious oppression, they were members of a new sect only recently called 'quakers.' They landed in Maryland and began to find their own paths. Some headed north and west to the territory of Ohio. Some headed south into Virginia. Some stayed in Maryland. The Virginians settled and had children. Following the path of his father, one child learned the trade of road-building. His vocation took him from New Orleans to Maine, but it was on a job in Pennsylvania when he met her.

They fell in love fast. Much more quickly than most. She wanted freedom from the constraints of her small town. He wanted a place to call his own. They both had memories of a small western Maryland town nestled between the mountains. The kind of place to raise a family.

Their youngest son was always popular. Smart and funny, he never was without a girlfriend. But it wasn't until he met the gawky, awkward girl that he told his friends, "I've met the girl I'm going to marry."

They went to high school together. Dropped out of college together. Got jobs, got married, grew up, had a daughter, had a son, earned money, lost money, and got divorced.

Four Hundred and Some Odd years later, that son thinks about all that makes-him-who-he-is. And he is proud. Proud of Quaker piety and German stoicism, and English and French nobility and Irish passion. Proud of Catholic traditions and Protestant freedom. Proud of family unity and the strength that only disunion can breed.

He realizes that he is part of all of them, and that all of them are within him.

He says a short prayer of thanks. No more is necessary, for they already know what is in his heart.

He turns out the light and he dreams.