God Forbid!

My grandfather never uttered a curse word that I ever heard though I'm sure that he must have let some slip out when I wasn't around, for he was too articulate and too much of a wordsmith not to have recognized the proper moment for a well-honed oath. In my presence, however, he used only well-chosen substitutes.

My favorite was "thunderation."

This was a strong minced oath in my grandfather's repertoire, and I don't believe that I've ever heard it outside of the Ozarks -- though I suspect that it's common enough since it occurs in a cheer that we used in my high school to urge our team to victory:

Thunder, thunder, thunderation,
We're the Greyhound delegation,
When we fight with determination,
We create a sensation!

At baskeball games, we'd chant that, getting louder with each line as we stomped our feet on the wooden floor of the stands till the whole gym was vibrating with what sounded almost like actual thunder.

The word has a German cognate, Donnerwetter, which is also used as a minced oath (pronounced "Donnervetter"). The "Donner" part means "thunder" and the "Wetter" part "weather." You've probably heard "Donner" in English, for it occurs in Clement Clarke Moore's famous poem 'Twas the Night Before Christmas (1823) as Santa calls out to his reindeer:

"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

This is the one that I learned, but another version reads "Donder":

"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

Yet another version has "Dunder," which leads into a debate over the true author of this poem. Clement Clarke Moore (July 15, 1779–July 10, 1863) may have 'borrowed' the poem from Henry Livingston Jr. (1748–1828), according to some evidence that refers to the poem's Dutch connections, which you can read further about at Wikipedia's Visit from St. Nicholas webpage, which also provides useful links. But I'll leave that research up to you.

The earlier Dutch "Dunder," by the way, comes closer our English "thunder," which might have given my grandfather pause ... to think that he was swearing like a Dutchman despite his best intentions!

Besides, when my grandfather really wanted to express his extreme consternation, he'd exclaim "God forbid!" One such time stands vividly in my memory.

Grandfather had just finished crumbling his breakfast cornbread into a big, tall glass of milk to eat it with a spoon, exactly as he did every morning, and was reaching for something when his elbow hit the glass and sent its contents spilling out and flooding over the entire table. Each of us five boys grabbed the plastic tablecloth and pulled up to divert the flow from our laps, grandfather let rip a "God forbid!", and my older brother, Pat, whose French toast was now drenched in soggy cornbread, dryly observed, "It's a little bit late for that."

Which turns out to be good theology, as I've since learned. Even God in his omnipotence cannot alter the past ... though he can change the present for the better. He didn't choose to do so at that moment, though, for Pat's French toast remained utterly soaked in cornbread and milk.

There was no use crying over the spilt milk, however, and after a moment, grandfather chuckled at Pat's wit, all of the tension evaporated (alas, not the milk), the rest of us laughed, and grandmother did God's dirty work for Him, cleaning up the mess and miraculously producing more French toast...