Family Reunion

ESTES PARK, Colo. -- The brothers, all in their 30s and 40s, nabbed the oldest one just outside his lodge room, smearing shaving cream all over him, themselves and anyone else who got in the way, just as they had as boys.That's one family tradition that surely will endure, I thought, as a glob of shaving cream hit me smack on the neck.The six siblings in my husband's family, their parents, spouses and children -- 23 of us in all -- were gathered at the YMCA of the Rockies' Estes Park Center, just outside Rocky MountainNational Park, for a weeklong family reunion to nurture the family connections . . . dumb traditions and all.Like most American families, we're spread across the country.

GLEN ECHO - Courtney, 67, a widowed mother of six, is already well in her cups when she barges into the annual family reunion and demands a scotch. She carps on her nephew and harangues her youngest daughter. Within minutes, she discovers this year, five of her children have refused to come.The ingrates, she seethes. All the more reason for another drink. "You've had enough," her sister Margaret tries to soothe her."My kids have left me, my husband's dead and I've had a 15-year ongoing headache from all the rest," Courtney snaps.

EAGAR, Ariz. -- Down a dusty, rocky trail and through a knot of pine trees, past a naked guy chewing leaves, a fully clothed Christian choir and a retired Jewish pie thrower, is the meadow where the Rainbow Family is holding its 27th annual gathering to party and pray for peace.As many as 14,000 members of this family of old hippies and young converts, of blacks and whites, of American Indians and recent immigrants, of babies and grandparents have come from across the country to the Apache-Sitgreaves National Forest, just west of this two-stoplight town near the New Mexico border, for an annual gathering that lasts for about three weeks.

What's essential for a successful party? Guests, of course. And Baltimore is making sure that its yearlong bicentennial birthday bash will have plenty by inviting families to plan their reunions in the city this year.The bicentennial celebration, in honor of the 200th anniversary of Baltimore's incorporation, seems a logical opportunity to celebrate family history along with city history.And planned activities - from planting trees in honor of important residents to the official Birthday Bash June 20-July 6, which includes the International Festival, block parties, historical re-enactments and Fourth of July festivities - will certainly give out-of-town guests things to do besides a backyard barbecue.

Next to a huge, round bowl of pasta salad, steaming ears of corn are cooling on a long, wooden picnic table. There are platters of hamburgers and hot dogs and chicken and greens and a great big sheet cake, too. Sodas and fruit drinks in huge Thermoses stand ready to quench parched throats.If they had come just for the food, the hundred or so folks who have trekked to Druid Hill Park this cool August afternoon would say the trip was worth it. But it's not the tempting spread that has drawn members of the Brittingham, Sneed and Moye clans here.

For the Brown family of East Baltimore, the Fourth of July reunion -- a giant cookout in Druid Hill Park -- was a jubilant affair."I been dancing, helping, enjoying myself, meeting other parts of my family I never met before," said Hershey Lawrence, 18, one of about 400 people who attended the reunion that was fragrant with the smell of grilling meats and rich with signs of family attachments.After beginning preparations in January, the family raised $2,000, corralled the 400 attendees from around the country and rented an 18-foot truck to transport boxes of watermelon, games of Twister and tons and tons of food.

To a hilly clearing in the woods near Monkton they came yesterday, bringing their contributions to a genealogical work in progress, an African-American family's search for itself amid the old homesteads and modest churches of rural Baltimore County.The Walton family reunion -- billed in a flier as "the real Waltons," to distinguish them from a figment of television's imagination -- drew more than 100 second-cousins-once-removed, great-great aunts and long-lost nephews from as far as Texas and Florida and Ohio.

The set of September Song resembles a family reunion -- something that happens only once a year with basically the same group of people, but with a few new additions.The regulars greet each other with hugs and kisses, and the new members are introduced all around. Then it's time to get down to business.For its 21st production, September Song, a community theater group, will repeat its 1984 show, "Fiddler on the Roof," at 8 p.m. tomorrow and Sept. 23 and 24, and at 2:30 p.m. Sunday at Westminster High School.

I'm lucky enough to belong to a big family. That means, sur as July brings fireworks, flags and loud bugs, it brings a family reunion.When I was small, and the young generation of parents had just come back from the war, I sat at the children's table with 17 first, second, and collateral cousins aged 3 to 8 (we were allowed at the children's table as soon as we could feed ourselves and talk). Then came the middle table -- kids about 8 to 12. The teen-age table was occupied taking care of children's table one. The men ate first, along with the children.

There's no place like home, there's no place like home! This famous phrase has a permanent place in my heart. It's so dear to me that I have even considered having it tattooed across my forehead. Then everyone will understand just how happy I am to be home after riding 18-plus hours (one way) in a caravan with three kids, one husband and a puppy.I have gone far and beyond the call of duty as a parent, wifeand pet-sitter.I had no idea what I was in for when I agreed to attend my husband's family reunion in Montgomery, Ala. We traveled through six states, including Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia and most of Alabama.

Inside the Gilman School's Lumen Center, adults chatted while young children chased each other around the tables. It sounded like a family reunion. Whoops of recognition occasionally bounced off the walls as folks greeted one another. It felt like a family reunion. In many ways "The 25-Year Reunion of The Steve Krulevitz Tennis Program" was a family reunion. It had been put together by director Steve Krulevitz's 21-year-old daughter, Stephanie Krulevitz - with her mom, Ann Krulevitz acting as able assistant - to raise money for the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation and the Dr. Michael Feinglass Cancer Foundation.

We were at a Gilbert family reunion a few years ago, and someone evidently married someone who is Scottish, or has some Scottish in his family, or who likes Scotch, and bingo. Bagpipes appeared. First of all, is it a bagpipe, or is it bagpipes? I'm going to refer to it as a bagpipes because while it is clearly just one instrument, we must acknowledge that it certainly sounds like a whole lot more. Anyway, at our final formal family reunion dinner, in sashayed one of the family members, playing a bagpipes.

Someone has "planted" some blue plastic flowers around a tree on Lauretta Avenue, perhaps the last vestige of the kind of loving care that this old street once received. For the most part, though, the families that used to polish their rowhouses' marble steps and the kids who used to skate down safe and narrow streets have long since moved away. But next month, they'll get back together for a picnic. They'll eat; they'll catch up; they'll remember the old West Baltimore neighborhood that many of them left more than 30 years ago. They just won't be going anywhere near it. "Oh, no!"

When I was a child, each September my father's side of the family had a homecoming weekend. That was our family reunion of sorts because it was sometimes the only time of the year when I would see most of my aunts, uncles and cousins in one place. The funny thing was that most of us lived in the Philadelphia area. While we didn't see each other much there, we made it a habit to travel three hours south to a relative's house for that annual weekend. It was a time to catch up and discover what was new in our lives.

Don't offer Tyler Perry a penny for his thoughts. Though there was a time when he might have jumped at that bid, his going rate is much higher these days. Perry is a writer and performer of stage plays, movies, a book - and, starting today in Baltimore, of a television show. His stories, which typically center upon African-American characters and use humor to grapple with painful issues such as drug abuse and unfaithful spouses, have struck a chord with members of his ever-widening audience.

It's probably useful to think of Madea's Family Reunion as a department store. There's something for almost anybody. Shopping for a paperback melodrama? It's on the first floor. Looking for a gospel sermon? Try the third. Bawdy physical comedy? The cellar, obviously. Some parts of Tyler Perry's new movie are better than others - and all of it is better than Diary of a Mad Black Woman, his last one. Perry wrote, directed, produced, and scored Family Reunion and plays three characters in the film.

FIG FACTS This year, California is expected to experience the largest fig crop in recent history. The harvest season, which runs from June 10 until Oct. 15, is expected to yield an abundance of this under-recognized fruit, which will be used in jams, muffins and even Fig Newtons. Here's some fig trivia to consider: For many years, figs have been used in coffee substitutes. Figs satisfy a sweet tooth because they contain about 60 percent sugar, but contain no cholesterol, fat or sodium.

The movie is called Meet the Fockers, but finding true-blue American Fockers - as Universal Studios found out - is no simple task. Before the movie's highly successful Christmas-weekend opening, Universal's publicity people came up with the idea of holding a "Focker Family Reunion" - inviting anyone in the country who shared the "unfortunate" last name of the movie's central character to enter a sweepstakes. Twenty-five Focker families, the movie company said, would be chosen for an all-expenses-paid weekend and "reunion" at Universal Orlando Resort.

The Stop the Violence march and rally held downtown yesterday might have been mistaken for a family reunion - participants recognized each other from past events, caught up on the latest news and compared pictures of their children. Except this wasn't the kind of reunion anyone wants to be a part of. The members in attendance were drawn by the worst kind of misfortune. And the photos being compared, portraits in gilded frames and printed on T-shirts, all shared one thing in common: The children depicted were dead, victims of persistent violence that shows no signs of easing.

Sultry summer weather, a skilled hand at the boombox, the smell of burgers grilling, photos of a newborn baby, another helping of potato salad, mac and cheese, greens and sweet potato pie. Kickin' back, making connections: It's family reunion time. On summer weekends, the pavilions in Druid Hill Park come alive with gatherings of relatives from all over the East Coast who return to Baltimore to share their roots, celebrate the next generation and dig into a no-holds-barred feast of down-home country food.