THANKS to an Oscar for best actress, a string of hit films that see her play everything from a dippy bombshell
in Legally Blonde to Johnny Cash's brunette wife, in Walk The Line, Reese Witherspoon is now a
Hollywood megastar and the highest-earning women in Tinseltown.

So with Reese featuring in a new internet magazine by the Scottish Executive to boost Scotland’s popularity,
I decided to see if I could uncover Reese’s Scottish roots – and possibly my own family’s claim to fame.
Forty minutes later and I’m in Gifford. I’ve been told John Witherspoon was born on February 5^th 1723,
in Gifford as his father was minister of the parish of Yester.
But finding someone to confirm this story is much harder than I thought, Gifford is like a ghost town -
surely not everyone decided to up sticks in the 1700s?

A wander up the main street brings me to a charming church, albeit locked up. Where better to start looking
for the past than a graveyard?  I take a stroll around, looking at epitaphs and trying hard not to slip and
fall on the muddy, wet grass.
I hope Reese knows not to wear heels should she decide on a quest to find her ancestors.

Inscriptions, some dating back to the 1700s, mean I could be close, and then a sign says it all.
Yester Parish Church. Could this be the church where John Witherspoon's father worked?

Gravestone checks revealed an abundance of local names, includ­ing numerous Howden's (spooky),
but no Witherspoon's - at least that I could see. Maybe I'm in the wrong place.
I pester a sales assistant in the newsagents for another possible Yester church and she suggests
I try the Yester estate.

As I walk up the long driveway towards the grand mansion, with pheasants strutting on either side, I think I've struck gold.
There, to the left of the house, is a church. Or what looks like a church. But it's all cordoned off.
In fact, on closer inspection it seems as though I've stumbled on a private estate.
And there's an angry-looking man peering out of his window.
Uh-oh, I might be blonde but at this point perhaps not legally. I make a quick retreat.

I need a drink so I head to the Goblin Ha' pub. The barmaid is friendly so I tell her my plight.

“Ah yes, the Witherspoon's," says 53-year-old Jeannie McCutcheon, from Haddington, nonchalantly.
"They're from here.” Excuse me? Are you sure? "Oh yes, we had Canadian Witherspoon's over before Christmas tracing back their ancestors.
They were relatives of Reese’s”  Bingo!

"They were searching for graves and long lost relatives. I remember them saying it was difficult but they were having some luck.
We took them to the church and I think they found a Witherspoon grave.”

But I didn't.  "I think it was one of the old graves and unless you know what you're looking for it’s almost impossible to find,” she says.
"We've had other Witherspoon's in the past looking for relatives too.”
So are there any Witherspoon's left in the area now? 
“I have no idea,” Jeannie says.

Fellow drinker, Tom Johnson, 56, a shop owner from Haddington, agrees.
"It wouldn't affect us at all if she was to come here -I don't think anyone knows who she really is.
What does she do again?"

An actress, I explain, shocked at his lack of celebrity knowledge. A very famous actress. And she hails from Gifford.
"That's nice, I suppose,” he says, giving me an odd look and shifting to the other side of the bar.

I drink up and head of to Haddington to check out Knox Academy where it’s rumoured the Witherspoons
were educated. But all that greets me is a modern school. A desperate phone call to mum is needed.

“The old Knox Academy is now a block of flats I believe,” she offers.  
There should be a carving of John Knox on the front but I don’t think you’ll get more information than that.
Perhaps you should ask some locals?”
I find the original Knox Academy and, as mum says, it’s now a block of flats.
I stop a passer-by, 39-year-old housewife Susan Mitchell  and question her on her Reese Witherspoon knowledge.
She looks bemused. "Don't know what you're talking about," she says before moving quickly away.
I stop a few more locals but no-one knows what I'm on about. Tail between my legs, I return to the Goblin Ha'.

Douglas Muir, the licensee, comes through and I think I’m going to be barred for stalking customers.
But thankfully the 46-year-old Gifford man knows more about the Witherspoon's than anyone else I had met.
He says “We’ve had the Witherspoon society from America here two years ago and they told me
more about the Witherspoon's than I ever knew.”

It seems John Witherspoon lived in Yester Manse, a grand Georgian house on the outskirts of Gifford
and a stone's throw away from the church. He went to Knox Academy in Haddington before on to
Edinburgh University, where he graduated at 21.
Following in his father's foot­steps he began preaching and in 1745 was the minister of the parish of Beith,
in North Ayrshire, marrying Elizabeth Montgomery and having ten children.

He gained a wide reputation through his ecclesiastical writings and in 1757 he became pastor at Paisley.

Douglas continues: "Apparently he (John Witherspoon) was a bit of a rebel and he went to America to escape.
I think he was a bit forward in this thinking.”
John Witherspoon left Scotland for America in 1768 and became president of Princeton College while
unifying the Presbyterian Church in America. In 1776 he was elected to the Continental Congress and
became a strong advocate of American independence, voting for independence on July 2.

And any possible remaining Witherspoon's?  There's no direct heritage left I know of, I'm afraid.''
But Douglas advises me to check out a plate on the wall opposite the church.

The bronze plaque with a picture of John Witherspoon proudly says: "In honoured memory of
the Reverend J Witherspoon. Only clergyman to sign the American declaration of independence,
the first moderator of the Presbyterian general assembly in America and president of Princeton University."
 

It's certainly impressive – no wonder Reese is proud to promote her ties to Scotland.
But this is where my hunt ends – and I’ve not managed to link my family with the Oscar winning genes.
But I’m not downhearted.
 

As diner Dorothy Rose, 68, from Gullane tells me; "My dear, some things are better left unsolved."