A Family Reunion Like No Other

When Alex Sink was a little girl growing up in Mount Airy in the 1950s and ‘60s, her grandmother had a rule: no Siamese twins talk. 

“We were under strict orders not to say anything about it,” Sink said.

Sink, now a well-known Florida politician, was born into a North Carolina family with a legendary origin story. Her great-grandfather was Chang Bunker, joined to his brother Eng by a thick band of skin at the stomach. The Bunker twins, who were born in a fishing village in what is now Thailand in 1811, were so famous that they originated the phrase “Siamese twins.” 

After getting scouted by a traveling merchant and touring the world as so-called oddities in the early 19th century, the Bunker twins settled in Mount Airy, married sisters, and had a combined total of 21 children. With that kind of prolificacy, it’s no surprise there are now thousands of Bunker descendants, many of whom still live in North Carolina.

Sink, 78, said that her family’s moratorium on discussing their ancestors stemmed from her grandmother’s Victorian prudishness (the very mention of the conjoined brothers could spark questions about sex and logistics), as well as a desire to blend into white American society.

But not everyone has shunned that history. For the last 36 years, more than 100 Bunkers have come back to Mount Airy for a family reunion unlike any other. This year’s gathering took place the weekend of July 18, with Bunker descendants ranging from toddlers to octogenarians donning nametags with complex numerical codes that described their place in the family tree. 

At an event venue in Mount Airy, they ate pad thai and lo mein and mingled with the 40-odd guests who traveled down from the Thai embassy in DC for the weekend. Everyone in Thailand knows the Bunker twins’ story, according to Oraya Wittayasooporn, an embassy employee who’s attended the reunion for the past four years. 

Family members toured the home where Chang’s family lived and visited their graves. They caught up with relatives and shared new discoveries: This year, a will belonging to Chang’s wife, Adelaide, had surfaced, sparking excitement among the history buffs. 

But a family reunion is, at its heart, about legacy. And at this year’s gathering, attendees wondered about the future of the Bunkers. The great-great-great grandchildren are less invested in their story, and the great-greats, now in their 60s, wonder what will happen after their generation is gone. 

In their lifetime, being a Bunker evolved from a point of shame into a point of pride. What happens next? 

“I’m one of the few of the younger generation who do come,” said Lakin East, a 31-year-old Eng descendant who lives in Mount Airy. “There’s a lot of responsibility to keep that going.” 

Family Origins, Family Sins

One day in 1829, as the family story goes, a Scottish merchant traveling in what was then Siam looked down at a river and beheld an unlikely sight: four human arms, capped by four human hands, churning along in the water. At first, he thought it was a monster. Then, he realized it was two humans—and a business opportunity. 

After receiving permission from their mother and the king of Siam, teenage Chang and Eng left home to tour the world. They were early examples of the 19th century practice of parading so-called human oddities around as exhibitions. But Chang and Eng were savvy businessmen, too, and at the age of 21, they were able to emancipate themselves from the merchant and become their own managers. 

The brothers traveled up and down the East Coast, and to Canada and Cuba and Europe, and started amassing a fortune by charging $0.25 a ticket. Eventually, they settled down in Mount Airy, where they convinced a judge that in the racial binary of the time, they should be considered white on official government paperwork. 

They married local sisters Sarah and Adelaide Yates and started families. The sisters kept separate homes a mile apart; the brothers alternated between them every three days. They enjoyed hunting, cards, reading, chess, and music (a trait that’s been passed down to their descendants—Pulitzer Prize-winning contemporary classical composer Caroline Shaw is a great-great granddaughter of Chang). They continued touring and were sailing back from Europe in 1870 when Chang had a stroke. Both brothers died in 1874, a few hours apart. 

At a Bunker reunion, that history is never far away. Informational poster boards and displays of books ringed the room at this year’s gathering, among flyers about Thai agriculture and goodie bags of tamarind balls from the embassy. 

The event kicked off with descendants reading first-person snippets from the lives of each of the brothers’ 21 children. Before 11 a.m., we’d met Chang’s son Jesse Lafayette Bunker, who was born deaf in 1861 and attended Governor Morehead School in Raleigh before becoming a successful farmer, and his daughter Margaret Elizabeth Bunker, who was born in 1863, lived nearly a century, and loved to travel. Sink gave a presentation on her grandfather, Albert, the first Asian student to enroll at UNC-Chapel Hill in 1878. 

Some of the history was right in the room. In 1941, the Bunker family welcomed the first twins since the originals—boys named after their famous forefathers. The second Chang Bunker died in 2022, but Eng was in attendance. He has lived in Mount Airy his whole life, and in the 1950s, he and his brother were photographed for Life Magazine working in the tobacco fields for a spread about Bunker descendants.

Like Sink, he said the local attitude toward the family has transformed since his childhood. 

“I stand out like a sore thumb,” said Eng, referring to his Asian features. “They picked on us all the time.” People also mocked his ancestors: “They would say, one of them could eat watermelon and the other one could spit the seed out.”

“I learned to live with it,” said the 85-year-old, who spent his career in textiles. “A lot of people are just ignorant about things.” 

He and other Bunker descendants want the twins to be remembered for their resourcefulness and brilliance. “They overcame a huge disability,” said Sink. “They did it, they became well-to-do. They ended up here and figured out a way to get accepted into the community.” 

That assimilation had a dark side. Like most wealthy white and white-passing Southerners, the brothers owned people; an enslaved woman they called “Aunt Grace” helped raise many of the children. Their sons fought for the Confederacy, and the end of slavery nearly ruined them financially. The Bunker descendants don’t shy away from that history, acknowledging the brothers were complicit in the sins of the era. 

Still, the descendants worry about the perception of the twins. This year’s reunion came on the heels of the publication of The Foursome, a salaciously named work of historical fiction that reimagines their lives from the perspective of Eng’s wife, Sarah. Author Christina Baker Kline, who says she is a distant Bunker relative, has garnered a New York Times review and other glowing attention. 

In the novel, Kline takes liberties in imagining motivations and dramatizes sex scenes, adding uncomfortable moments such as Chang fondling his brother’s wife. Kline told NPR that several Bunker descendants had read the book and given her helpful comments (Kline named Sink and other reunion attendees in her acknowledgements), and that “they do understand that I’m going to touch on some touchy subjects, and also that it’s a novel and this is my interpretation of events.” 

At the reunion, descendant Martha Moore offered her take on the book, stating that while she believes that Kline is a kind person and a strong writer, she’s afraid that the book will make readers think badly of the brothers. She called on the descendants to ensure people know what’s fiction and what’s fact. “We are the voices of those who can no longer speak for themselves,” she said. 

Expanding the Family Tree

East, a regular attendee at the reunions, feels that responsibility. Like Sink’s grandmother, East fears the twins’ complex lives are being reduced to sordid speculation. The logistics of procreation is often people’s first question. “I wasn’t there, I wouldn’t know,” is her stock response. (For the record, this question also bedeviled the twins’ contemporaries.) 

East understands the curiosity, but wishes it didn’t end there.

Josh Cox, also 31, is an Eng descendant who works as a supervisor at a glass company in Mount Airy. In contrast to the experience of older family members, growing up as a Bunker was “great.” 

Still, it’s hard to get other members of his generation to engage with the history. His brother and sister have never made it to a reunion. “I don’t get it, but they’re just not interested,” said Cox, who brought his 8- and 3-year-old along to the party. “We don’t want it to die out. It’s such a unique story.” 

One way they’re trying to do that is finding more Bunkers. Given the silence and shame that some felt in previous generations, there are likely descendants who have no idea about their famous ancestors. Sink said that on a recent family trip to Thailand, she met two sisters who only learned about their connection after their mother died and they found a stack of articles in her attic. 

Misty Smith, 61, a great-great-granddaughter from Raleigh, has turned to internet sleuthing to fill out the family tree. A week and a half before the reunion, she found a descendant of Eng’s daughter Rosella through an obituary and messaged him on Facebook. 

“He’s sitting at home with his beautiful wife, and he gets a message from this woman who mentioned his grandma’s name and said he was a descendant of Eng Bunker,” Smith said. “He said he thought it was a scam.” But the man called his father, who confirmed that family lore had always been that they had Bunker blood. 

The Bunker descendants are also working on building a physical legacy. In 2024, Eng descendant Tanya Jones spearheaded the opening of the Siamese Twins Museum inside the Surry Arts Council in downtown Mount Airy. The museum tells the story of the twins, featuring displays about concepts important to their lives, including Buddhism, as well as artifacts that tell their story. These include a placard documenting their breakneck tour from the East Coast to Europe and back again in the 1830s; a pamphlet advertising the “Siamese Twins, United Brothers”; mass-produced porcelain statuettes sold at fairs; wax seals featuring the brothers’ “Chang-Eng” stamp. 

And then there’s the homestead. Eng’s house burned down years ago, but Chang’s white farmhouse overlooking rolling fields still stands, down a lane lined with flaming crepe myrtles. 

The weekend of the reunion, Sink led a tour of the house for the Thai delegation. She pointed out a secretary cabinet the brothers brought back from Russia after their last European tour, the staircase railing built to accommodate their 5’3” stature, the marks on a wall from childhood scuffles between various Bunker descendants. Outside, she noted the spot off the front porch where the twins were originally buried to protect their bodies from grave robbers. 

Like many Bunkers before her, Sink grew up in the house. “My mother always said, ‘before you let anyone else outside the family live in this house, burn it down,’” she said. But her father recently died, and she and her sister have no interest in living there. They’re at a crossroads, she said, and now she wonders if this place could become a state park or heritage site. The house has gone through too many renovations for official historical designation (“A lot of wives have passed through here,” said Sink). 

That approach has worked in Mount Airy before. The region’s other famous son, Andy Griffith, based the fictional Mayberry on his hometown. Now the town is home to a museum, a mural, and a whole Griffith-related itinerary. 

“Mount Airy lives on,” Sink said. And hopefully, so will the twins’ story. 

“As controversial as The Foursome is,” she continued, “my attitude is, if it’s a story that keeps their story alive, then all the better.”