It was up to the old man to tell the story that would hold the history of the people in one neat ball that could roll through the ages into the future.

He was ninety-two and though he'd spoken in episodes over the years to many different members of his family, he decided it was about time to do it properly and get the facts down to many ears at once. Every member would be able to repeat the same story, the same data they'd heard. He'd woken that morning with a bellyache high up near his heart and that had scared him. What if his heart crashed in the night and he died without telling the story? No one would know where they'd come from. All would be lost, deleted from memory.

And so he began.