Shared Legacy

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On December 2, 1909, twin boys were born on the prairie of South Dakota, in a sod house. When introduced to their two-year old-sister, she had little to say. When she was introduced to the first baby she said, “Babe.” When the second boy was brought to her she said, “More.”

The proud parents named their sons, Frank Babe Amondson and Floyd More Amondson. As they grew they preferred their middle initial to the names given them by their sister.

Here are some of the things I know about them:

They had their own language that their mother eventually learned. That sort of ruined their fun.

While living in the sod house, they had native Americans from one of the Sioux tribes as neighbors. The hunters would stop by to watch the identical boys – fascinated by them. The boy’s mother would “shoo” them on with her corn-husk broom.

After they moved to Sioux Falls, the boys went to public school. They looked so much a like they could fool teachers and girls. One was better at math than the other and would sometimes be present in both math classes on test days. If a girl thought she liked one boy, and he didn’t like her back, his brother would gladly step in on date day.

Both boys signed up to serve in WW2. Floyd tested positive for TB and was sent away to get well. Frank served under General George Patton in the 3rd infantry. He marched across of Europe beside tanks. At one point, he helped capture seven Germans.  Frank’s ankle was badly sprained, and he needed medical treatment. On the way to the barracks from some kind of mission, they heard some German soldiers talking and found them settled in around a fire. The two Americans used an old illusion. One circled around to the other side, and they both made enough noise in the woods that the Germans were immediately convinced they were surrounded. They surrendered peacefully.

At one point, Floyd met Hank Williams and the two became good friends.

On the twins forty-eighth birthday, a great niece was born. She was me. I was given their sister’s name, Joy. These things seemed to deepen our connection.

Part of who they were lives on in me. Am I as naughty, brave, or feisty as they were?

I don’t know, but part of me certainly hopes that we share not only a birthday, but that some of their qualities are in my DNA. One thing I’m certain of is that the stories of their lives are part of the legacy they left me. The way I give that priceless inheritance away is to take what I know about them (these stories came to me from their sister) and tell others. Does it matter? Yes. Every time I write or talk about them, the memories live on.

Joy is the author of Your Life a Legacy – Explore & Record the Times of Your Life. You can learn more about the book at: It’s available in both paperback and for Kindle.

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1 Comment

  1. Such a sweet story about family! We should live each day with our legacy in mind because one day someone will share it (good or bad). I want to hear more from this author.


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