What’s in a Name

an AI’s rendition of George, based on a photo
of his youngest son and a written description
of George’s physical appearance
(credit: MidjourneyFree AI)

My Great-Great-Granddad George was a trolley conductor in 1890s Brooklyn. He seems to have been a pretty good guy, but then one fateful day in 1901, another trolley came barreling down the hill and T-boned his. George lived to tell the tale, but getting thrown from the trolley doesn’t seem to have done him any favors. The newspaper articles about George start there, but don’t culminate until some two years later, when he thought his wife (Great-Great-Grandma Adelaide) was having an affair. Sadly, George shot and killed the family friend he believed to be her lover, John Lacy.

A few months later, George was in court pleading insanity. Unfortunately, the DA was apparently effective and the jury ruled him sane. He was found guilty of second-degree murder and, a few days later, sentenced to life at hard labor in Sing Sing. It wasn’t until 1905 that he was finally transferred upstate to the Dannemora State Hospital for Insane Convicts, where he lived until his death in 1932.

Because of this family disaster, Adelaide was understandably unhappy with George. For the rest of her life, she considered herself a widow and listed herself as such on many legal documents. The name “George” was apparently not to be spoken: their son George Henry was too old to change, but George Henry’s son George Cortland went by “Cort” and died believing his first name was the letter G. When George was referred to at all, Adelaide mononymed him “Drake”, which is how he appears on his children’s death certificates. Suffice to say: his given name was effectively deleted from the family’s vocabulary.

So, why do I share all this? Well, yesterday I went to the temple and helped George receive his endowment. The Spirit was strong anyway, but then I arrived at the part of the ordinance where I spoke his given name aloud. I was overcome with emotion as I realized what was happening: George’s name, which had long been “a hiss and a byword”, had been transformed into something new, an integral part of his divine endowment and eternal life. I didn’t feel George at that time, but as I entered the Celestial Room, he let me know that he wanted to be sealed to his family. As I checked the records last night, I saw that that work is partially done, but one daughter—his little Adelaide—and two unidentified children have yet to be added to that eternal family. I’ve got my work cut out for me.

So, what’s in a name? Sometimes, not much. As Shakespeare famously wrote, “a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” But when it comes to George, his name is a big deal. I’m just glad I got to take part in its recovery.