Perry Ann Porter, 1960
What’s in a name? Why were you given your name? Do you know?
I remember my mom asking me if I liked my name and would I like to change it. I was about six or seven at the time. I told her I wanted to be called Dorothy (from Wizard of Oz). This went on for about a week; however, I would never answer when Dorothy was called. Next I wanted to be called Shirley. Of course the same response: no response. Finally, I decided to keep my given name.
The next evening my mom sat me down to go through the spelling: adding an “e” after Ann or connecting together to be one long word; changing the “y” to “i” in Perry. She was making me decide. To this day, I believe this was the first real choice I encountered as I matured. I do believe every parent should give a child one time to decide what they would like to do, for their names belongs to them.
I had two aunts named Mary and I believed my name was chosen to rhyme with theirs. However, my dad said I was named from streets in Wichita, since Perry Street connects with Porter Street and an Ann Street is in between. Go figure!
While I was in Jamaica, my Peace Corps assignment as librarian at a crowded high school enabled me to discover that my name is extremely popular among Jamaicans. The staff had a Porter Brown, one Perry as first name and another teacher with Perry as a last name, and in different combinations. Quite fun and confusing. We sure got to joke during lunch in the staff lounge.
When I was doing my student teaching from Wichita State, I was given a 3rd grade class with a teacher named Mrs. Brown. My best, friend here in Poulsbo is also named Brown, and I ended up marrying a Brown.
Edward Wayne Brown became my husband. He said he was named from his town Edwardsville, Illinois, while I claimed to be named from streets. A big joke for us. Ed’s middle name is the same as my dad’s and brother’s.
Ed was a super barber, working at Snippers with two gals. After Ed retired, the shop was sold to a couple named Perry. And when Ed passed away, I discovered his birth certificate, from Edwardsville, Illinois. At the bottom on his certificate, the final signature was written “Perry” and dated 1939. Amazing or what!?
Another strange happening was a Peace Corps Volunteer offering tutoring lessons to her high school neighbor and becoming fast friends. That family left the Philipines and moved to New York. At the end of service the volunteer also moved to New York and got a job teaching English at the local high school, only to find her Philippina neighbor sitting in her class room! WOW! What a coincidence!
There’s a crazy place in L. A. (I’m trying to remember the name). It is said that every time you visit you will meet someone from your past. This a fun spot, peanut shells on the floor, hanging airplanes, motorcycles and brick-a-brac on the walls. Everywhere one looks are different treasures. Guess who I ran into – the Sullivans, Rick and Mick. Surprise of all surprises.
Question: Have you experienced similar coincidences in your life?
My parents had chosen a boy’s name before I was born, but not a girl’s name. Walking down the street one day while Mom was still pregnant, they saw a little girl riding her tricycle that sported a license tag saying Janice. Mom asked Dad what he thought of “Janice” for my name. His reply was that it was O.K. For 80 years I have been Janice, except my high school years, when Mom started calling me Jan. However, in intermediate school I spelled it Janis. No teacher ever asked me about the spelling. I’m sure all my official records spelled it Janice.
No coincidences, but we have a couple family naming traditions that went sort of awry. My mother told me that they almost named me Janet. But my middle name, Rose, is after my grandmother. I guess Barbara Rose sounded better than Janet Rose. But I was always embarrassed about Rose because it sounded like an old lady. When my younger sister was born, she got the other grandmother, Elizabeth, for her middle name. In a nifty burst of creativity, my mom made up my sister’s first name by combining Margaret (her own name) with Ardith (her best friend in high school) to get Mardith, whom we call Mardi. I thought it was cool and was jealous. So I always tease her by lisping her name as “Mardith Ewibbabeth.”
My brother, James Michael is named for two great-grandfathers. So in turn, he named his son Mitchel Frank after two other great-grandfathers. Oops, he didn’t confirm the genealogy with mom and dad and mis-remembered the “Mitchel” which was actually “Millen.” My nephew Mitch is glad that his first name is not Millen!