The Motherlode of Erismans
I have an unusual last name. For much of my life, I never met anyone named Erisman to whom I wasn’t closely related, close enough that we could easily calculate what flavor of cousin we were. Some years back, however, while visiting Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, on a business trip, I was suddenly inundated by Erismans—a colleague’s child’s kindergarten teacher, a local car dealership, the high school’s star quarterback smiling from a billboard. There were Erismans everywhere, even on a road sign. I had, I concluded, found the motherlode of Erismans.
Her Children Sign from the Breast
In a 1684 treatise with a title far too long to include here, Increase Mather, a noted Puritan minister, set out to describe instances where God had intervened in the world in remarkable and miraculous ways. Among the “illustrious providences” he recounted was the story of my nine times great-grandparents Matthew and Sarah (Hunt) Pratt, both of whom were hearing and speech impaired but who were also respected members of the church and community in 17th century Weymouth, Massachusetts.