The recent death of Prince caused me to reflect on my father. This was not because of even the slightest overlap in aesthetic preferences. My father’s musical tastes ran the gamut from Gilbert and Sullivan to John Philip Sousa. He was the kind of guy who enjoyed going to a high school band concert even if his own kids weren’t in it. Not your typical Prince fan.
No, the strictly tangential link between Prince and my Dad is that both had unusual given names, names that implied a royal connection that each in his own way ended up earning.
In my father’s case, King was not his first name - that was “Edwin,” after his father; but King was his mother’s birth name and no one ever called him anything but "King" - nor did my father ever seem the least bit abashed by it. Consequently it never struck me as being at all out of the ordinary, though some of my friends later told me how odd it seemed to hear a man addressed as "King" as casually as their own fathers were called "Jim" or "Bill" or "Ken."
No, the strictly tangential link between Prince and my Dad is that both had unusual given names, names that implied a royal connection that each in his own way ended up earning.
In my father’s case, King was not his first name - that was “Edwin,” after his father; but King was his mother’s birth name and no one ever called him anything but "King" - nor did my father ever seem the least bit abashed by it. Consequently it never struck me as being at all out of the ordinary, though some of my friends later told me how odd it seemed to hear a man addressed as "King" as casually as their own fathers were called "Jim" or "Bill" or "Ken."
The King family crest, painted by my grandmother. The motto - “Out of a ducal coronet or a demi ostrich ar beak or” - roughly translates as “The upper half of a silver ostrich with a beak of gold, shown in profile view, emerges through a duke’s golden crown.”
Later, as I sifted through the extensive collection of King family letters and documents I inherited from my father, I came to appreciate my grandmother’s love for her family and pride in their name. Her father, Arthur King, was descended from a long line of Anglican clergymen who lived and pursued their calling in Little Glemham in Suffolk, England. As a young man, Arthur emigrated to the US, probably for economic opportunities that were closed to him as one of many more younger sons than were needed to serve the needs of the local houses of worship. In 1889 he married a Pennsylvania girl named Vergetta Jane Sayers and the pair had one child, their daughter Beatrice, whom they adored. My father and his two younger brothers were Arthur and Vergie's only grandchildren, and my father fondly remembered long rambles with his grandfather King, butterfly nets in hand.
Arthur King with his grandson (Edwin) King Stodola (circa 1920)
Arthur became a naturalized US citizen in 1893 - an act requiring him to forswear allegiance to Queen Victoria. Despite his love for his adopted country, however, Arthur retained strong ties with his family for the rest of his life, returning frequently to visit them. My grandmother corresponded regularly with her first cousins in England. So my grandmother’s King heritage was, for her, living history.
Luckily for my grandparents and for Prince's parents, the US is quite tolerant of obscure or unusual name choices. Had they been born elsewhere, these names might have been rejected out of hand. “Prince” and “King,” for example, are both near the top of a no-list maintained by the New Zealand government for violating the rule that “acceptable names...should not resemble an official title and rank.” (Ironically, the name King does not necessarily imply descent from royalty but rather refers to a man with a kingly bearing, or to someone who played the part in a pageant or earned the title in a tournament.)
Since my father, no one else in the family has ever been known as "King." The tradition of using King as a middle name is now in its fourth generation, however, so I guess the Kings will continue to be with us for quite awhile!
Luckily for my grandparents and for Prince's parents, the US is quite tolerant of obscure or unusual name choices. Had they been born elsewhere, these names might have been rejected out of hand. “Prince” and “King,” for example, are both near the top of a no-list maintained by the New Zealand government for violating the rule that “acceptable names...should not resemble an official title and rank.” (Ironically, the name King does not necessarily imply descent from royalty but rather refers to a man with a kingly bearing, or to someone who played the part in a pageant or earned the title in a tournament.)
Since my father, no one else in the family has ever been known as "King." The tradition of using King as a middle name is now in its fourth generation, however, so I guess the Kings will continue to be with us for quite awhile!
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