When I was younger, 18, I was sat down by my father who told me something that changed my life forever.
My family has never been one that stood out or drew attention to ourselves. We were just always there. We were everymen and always had been. My father told me that when a male child comes of age at 18, he’s told about the family secret.
As a family, three generations ago, we came over from England. My great grandfather had established his name as a business owner in London, England in 1879 and from there, the roots of our family were sown.
I had always admired my great grandfather as the great man he was and from a young age, I was inspired and encouraged to be like him.
The night my father told me our family secret suddenly everything not only made much more sense but it only served to strengthen my admiration for where I came from.
You see.. business had been great for my great grandfather but Victorian England WAS Victorian England and despite business being great.. the location wasn’t and soon the block was populated by prostitutes and those who frequented the same. The ruffians brought violence and the police didn’t, or couldn’t do much.
The store was damaged and after one night after confronting those responsible my great grandfather felt the pain of what happened when the law was taken into his own hands.
And the one who paid dearest was my great grandmother. She was killed by an unknown cockney ruffian while the women of the night looked on and did nothing.
This is what started a chain of events that would change the course of my family. It wasn’t long after she died that my great grandfather closed the shop and moved his children to his parents. I couldn’t blame him for wanting to take them out of there, it was 1888 and whitechapel wasn’t safe anymore.
You see, even though you’ve never seen my great grandfather’s face and to this day, as a rule, no pictures of him exist you know him. Everyone knows him and I love him.
My family secret is a name, a name to be kept secret from the world. You see.. my great grandfather was Jack the Ripper and as while I haven’t beaten his count, I’ve done my family proud and rid the streets of a couple of whores.
I could show you the preserved heart of Mary Kelly as proof of my story, it’s a well loved relic of my family but you’ll have to take my word on it.
The anonymity of Reddit will be the shadows I wrap this confession in. My great grandfather was a great man who’s work changed the world for the better. We’re not done, I’ll have my time.
The best part of my family? We blend in, we don’t stand out, I could be anyone.. someone you trust.. someone you love.. and you’ll never see me coming and you’ll never find me.