My Great Grandfather is a mythical creature. He is a towering wraith. He is part legend, part folktale – our family’s King Arthur or Robin Hood. He was cruel, brilliant, the father of the Pienaar family’s pain and fortune. He died long before I was born. Those who did know him are dead too, or don’t know me. If I wanted, I could go in search of the truth. But I prefer Frederick Pienaar the way he is.
He was born to a farming family in what was then the Orange Free State, one of the free Boer republics established when Dutch settlers trekked away from British rule in the Cape. The Pienaars first came to South Africa in 1688. They were French Huguenots, then still Pinard, escaping persecution by the Catholic majority (there’s a mildly funny twist in here somewhere, wait for it).
My grandfather’s farm did not escape British wrath during the Anglo-Boer/South African War. It was subject to the redcoats’ scorched earth policy and the women and children were placed in concentration camps. In 1918, or thereabouts, my great grandfather was given the choice of land or an education. He chose an education. And he chose Trinity College because he figured the Irish hated the British too.
While in Ireland Frederick Pienaar blossomed into the pinnacle of intellectual and physical strength. He got his MD, while simultaneously completing a Master’s in English. He played for the Irish national rugby team. He broke a world record for point-shooting. He ran for Ireland in the Olympics and earned a bronze medal, or was it the silver?
He met a good Irish Catholic, married her, and brought her home. Generations of Pienaars since then have gotten their healthy dose of Catholic guilt (therein, the twist!). Though he skipped out on land from his father, Frederick bought a whole lot of his own. Said land became what is now Bloemfontein – a large city and the judicial capital. A fortune was amassed! None, however, has trickled down to me. Because:
While the Masons were still cool and secretive and didn’t publicize membership opportunities on TV my great granddaddy was Grand Mason of South Africa. Top dog. Etcetera. My granddaddy, having taken on his mother’s devout Catholicism, refused to join. Disinherited, fool!
So there’s the story. If you append ‘according to legend’ or ‘apparently’ to all of the above you will have made an honest girl out of me.
