My mother, the family genealogist, believes in the power of names. She utilized family names for her own children, creating solid foundations for my sisters and myself.
It has been my understanding that when I was born, there was a lot of discussion that took place. Not what to do with me, but as to what my mother should name me.
According to my mother, she was leaning toward Edward, Stuart or Harper. Of these, Harper was a family name. My grandmother strongly suggested Beauwater, which she claimed was a traditional family name. Thank goodness I dodged THAT bullet!
Some other family member suggested she use Harper for my first name. His reasoning? The best presidents and greatest men in history had the same first and last initial, like Woodrow Wilson, Herbert Hoover and Calvin Coolidge. According to my mother, these were the only examples he gave. Hmmm...
My mother entertained other suggestions and... Well, she entertained them. Harper just seemed a bit unusual to her, so she relegated it to my middle name. Phillip, though, just sounded right to her.
The irony in my name, however, is that Phillip means a lover of horses in Greek. While I don't hate horses, I can't say I'm a big fan of the furry, oversized creatures. I'd like to say the reverse is true, but it's not. Horses hate me.
fuzzy, black dogs
The original three fuzzy, black dogs -- Bob, Ace and Lilly.
