WEST VIRGINIA — A family reunion may appear casual, but it operates under a set of rules older than the folding tables. Newcomers should study carefully.
Rule one: bring food. “We have plenty” does not mean arrive empty-handed. It means bring something that fits beside nineteen casseroles and can survive direct sunlight.
Rule two: identify your dish. A strip of masking tape with your last name prevents a three-county investigation after supper. Crockpots will otherwise change owners before sunset.
Rule three: submit to genealogy. Within ten minutes, an aunt will explain how you are related to a person you believed was merely your mechanic. Nod. The connection will involve two marriages, a coal camp and someone called Junior who was older than everybody.
Children will be released as a herd. Nobody will know exactly where they are, but six adults will yell “slow down” whenever one passes the shelter.
The oldest relatives receive the best chairs. Everyone else gets a metal folding chair positioned on ground that is somehow downhill in every direction.
Rule four: do not criticize a recipe. You may quietly prefer another person’s deviled eggs. You may not express this preference within earshot of the person who made the current deviled eggs.
The phrase “Whose is this?” can begin either a compliment or a feud. Proceed carefully.
At some point, a group photograph will be attempted. The tall people will block the short people, one child will cry and three cousins will be missing because they went to look at a four-wheeler. The photograph will be treasured anyway.
Before leaving, take leftovers even if you insist you do not need them. Resistance only causes an older relative to place food directly in your vehicle.
Finally, promise to come again next year. Everyone will agree the gathering went by too quickly, despite having spent five hours discussing the same stories told at the previous reunion. That repetition is not a flaw. It is the reason everybody came.
