Vikings Had Red Hair, Not Just Blonde

Jesse in the parkIf you believe the Vikings series on the History Channel, it would appear that the majority of the Vikings were blondes. In Marvel’s Thor, he is blonde. The truth of the matter is that the god of thunder as well of a fair share of Vikings had red hair. According to Professor Donna Heddle, director of the University of the Highlands and Islands’ Centre for Nordic Studies, red hair was a cultural marker to the travels of the Vikings found in such places as Scotland and Russia. Now some would argue that red hair comes from the Celtics as well.

In my case, I have red hair from my Norwegian father, unless my dad is the mailman, and red hair from my German mother. Neither of my parents have red hair. My German grandmother had beautiful red curly locks. I have never met my dad’s parents but his kids from his first marriage to an Italian woman produced 2 kids with red hair. Yes I was treated like a red-haired stepchild. So if we are all to thank the Vikings for our red hair, I guess they journeyed to Italy because it takes red-haired genes from both parents to make redhead babies. Plus my wife’s great-grandfather, Angelo, who was Italian had striking red hair. He was a wild man too, wooing his future wife away from the convent by writing her love letters from his own blood during the second world war. Vikings were known to attack convents of ‘brides of Christ.’ I stole my woman from the Sister Theresa convent too.

The Red-Haired Angel of Italy

 

naples
Naples, Italy

My great-grandfather Angelo was pure blooded Italian, born and raised in the Old Country. He was also a redhead, with blue eyes and a temper to match. His wealthy family owned a pizzeria in Naples, and eventually open Prima Pizza in Cornwall, NY, now in its third generation and still in the family.

Growing up in Italy, Angelo fell in love with a poor farm girl, Rose. The only complication was she was set to become a nun, and already living in a convent. Being a redhead, however, Angelo was not deterred. He wooed her secretly over the convent garden wall, and when he was sent away to war, he wrote her love letters in his own blood. They were eventually married, moved to America and had ten children plus two adopted girls.

Luckily for him, he had chosen a saint as his bride. My great-grandmother Rose was as calm, humble and obedient as he was fiery, proud and rash. She must have realized her special calling in being married to a red-head. She used to say, in broken Italian, that it was her mission in life to “fight the evil through him!” Named after her, and married to a redhead myself, it seems she has passed that mission on to me.