My given name is Douglas. My father, who served for two years in the U.S. Army, once told me that he named me and my younger brother, Brad, after generals: Douglas MacArthur and Omar Bradley. I don’t know if that’s true or not, and at 91, I’m not sure my father really remembers any more. But whatever the reason I was so named, I have always been content with it.
“Douglas” is a name of Scottish origin, though it was originally a surname, not a given name, and it was the surname of a family of powerful men in the kingdom of Scotland in the twelfth century. William I, Lord of Douglas, is believed to be the first Douglas to appear in Scottish historical records, and he was followed by several more Earls of Douglas over the next few centuries. I have visited the ruins of Tantallon Castle, which was built by William, the first Earl of Douglas during the 14th century.
Photo: Me, my daughter and my son-in-law, in front of remains of Tantallon Castle, in East Lothian, Scotland, 2018. The castle was mostly destroyed by Oliver Cromwell’s artillery forces in 1651. Photo credit: Carolyn Heacock.
Photo: My wife Carolyn and me in Douglas Tower, part of the ruins of Tantallon Castle in East Lothian, Scotland, 2018.Photo credit: Rebekah Heacock-Jones.
“Douglas” comes from the Gaelic words, dubh (meaning “dark” or “black”) and glas (meaning “stream”). Some sources translate “Douglas” to mean “black river” or “dark river.”
Another explanation of my name can be found on a coffee cup that I’ve had for many years–I have no idea where I got it, whether as a gift or something that I purchased–that contains the following inscription:
DOUG MEANING: MYSTERIOUS
You share yourself only With a special few– It’s just these close friends Who can see the real you. To most, your true character Remains unknown. You like people, But don’t mind being alone. When others get close, They will often depart With a true respect for The beauty in your heart.
Yes, I realize it’s cheesy–the sort of poetry one finds in a Stuckey’s gift shop on the interstate (sorry, Marci G.)–and only just barely consistent with the etymology of the name, but some of this little poem actually happens to describe my introverted self pretty well. (I can’t speak to the “beauty in your heart” part, but there is some truth in the rest of it, I think.)
doug heacock: words 