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So apparently my great-great-great grandfather fought in the Civil War. A couple months back, our family was contacted by some Confederacy historical preservation group, asking for permission to put a special commemorative headstone on his (at this point unmarked) gravesite.
We said whatever, knock yourselves out, but we declined to make a donation to help pay for it.
Then they got in touch again, saying that the headstones were ready and they were going to have a dedication ceremony for about 10 soldiers, and they would really like a few of each soldier's descendants to come witness the event and receive a certificate or whatever. My mom figured why the hell not, and went.
When she got there, the organizer was freaking out because they had expected 5-7 people per family, but one soldier's family had RSVP'ed over 100 people. They had to scramble to add tons of extra chairs, and created a second registration table so it wouldn't be a bottleneck. To simplify things, they just said, "Everyone from this dude's family go to this table; everyone else go to that table."
Except then more people start arriving, and it turns out... this soldier in question didn't die during the war. He went on to get married after the war and have lots of children and thus all these copious descendants.
And the woman he married was a freed slave. All of his descendants are black.
So now there is one registration line for the white people, and one registration line for the black people, surrounded by Confederate flags. And my mother comments to one elderly black woman, "Well, I bet they weren't expecting for this to be so awkward."
And the woman says to her with a grin, "Why do you think we all came?"
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