I got this from another list and thought you might enjoy reading it. Margie R. Pearce URL: www.angelfire.com/la/ancestors -----Original Message----- From: RHollis123@aol.com <RHollis123@aol.com> To: MSTIPPAH-L@rootsweb.com <MSTIPPAH-L@rootsweb.com> Date: Wednesday, November 11, 1998 12:53 AM Subject: Our Ancestors....How Much We Love Them! >Giving Thanks: >Our Ancestors....How Much We Love Them! > >While doing research on my family lines, I have come to notice the age >of the people of this country. The life span seemed to be fairly short. >The majority of the people that I see as heads of the household are from >23 to 45. There are very few in their 60's and 70's. During the ten to >twelve years before the Civil War our country seemed to be what we >consider today as "young adults" as head of a household. Before that >the lives of these people were extremely busy with land, farming and >raising their families and this was taking it's toll on the young men >and women of that time because it was unbearably hard work for the >farmers and their families. > >The people that were able to buy land and invest and be active in the business >end of society were marking off their days on this earth as was the farmer and >his wife were without even knowing it. Life itself was taking it's toll of >these bright, diligent, energetic people. They, for the most part would >all be dead before they reached the age of 50. > >For an eager nation to grow it took many miles of road, tunnels, ore, >railroads, food, crops for clothing, livestock, trees, oil and so many other >natural resources and various occupations to supply the needs of it's people. >They lived hard lives, even if it was with a suit of clothes and a tie, shirts >with fancy cuffs and collars or rough-woven durable fabric for the laborers >of various trades and livelyhoods, the pace was hard and fast and >worrisome. Most of those that you see listed in the census reports in >their 60's, 70's or 80's through the 1860 census, were just stronger, >healthier and blessed with longer lives. > >After the Civil War there were fewer young men on the census reports. >Most were in their 40s and 50s, some maimed, some crippled, some blind >and many that were strong and healthy in 1861, were spent in the few >years that the war lasted. They came home old men in the conditions of >their bodies and many never regained their health to support their >families by being able to carry the whole load of maintaining their farms or >trades. The sons of those men learned early how to till and weed the ground, >when to harvest, how to manage the few dollars they had or how to resent >themselves to borrow on next year's crop before they were 18 years old. > >The tradesmen had an advantage over the farmer when it came to his sons being >able to carry on their work, crafty small hands learned quickly the art of >making clothes, shoes and sewing the leathers for boots, belts, vests, saddles >etc. before they were 12. But the farmer and the blacksmith and the waggoneer >and the lumberman had to hire help until their sons were strong enough to >maintain the balance of the load for their fathers. It was too hard for an 8 >year old to lift wheels, fell trees, use an anvil, and control the horses >and oxen and mules that were needed for those jobs. However, their >little minds of boys 5 and 6 years old when their fathers came home from >the war were keen and open and eager to learn. And learn they did, just as >fast and furiously as they could, and they did what they could until their >bodies caught up to their mental experience and were able to put all their >knowledge into practice. > >Those young boys that had to learn from their older family members; >uncles, cousins, grandparents if they were still there for them, those were >the ones that had the hardest challenge.....their father's didn't come home, >their mother's couldn't hold up under the strain and the daughters had to >pitch in and learn the art of making bread, churning, cooking, cleaning, >washing, ironing, sewing...whatever it took to be there beside their brother >or brothers if they were lucky enough to have them and keep the family >together and pushing on and on and on. > >These wonderful people are our ancestors. These blessed, faithful, loving, >and yes, some have the occasional traits of hot tempered, sweaty, foul >mouthed...but they are our ancestors. These strong, weak, frail, stubborn, >rough skinned, white skinned, dark skinned, pampered or leathery people are >our ancestors. I am so proud of them. I love them so much. I wish I could >have known each and every one of them, touched them, listened to them.....just >stood in their shadow for a few minutes because I'll guarantee you one thing, >those shadows would have brought me to my knees knowing how much it covered >and what it meant to be a part of their family. > >I have stood and am now standing on their land. I have seen and touched >their trees and their homes. I have smelled their old pipes and snuff >jars, their handbags, powder boxes and handkerchiefs. I have felt their >old pocket watches, their knives, dishes, tools, jewelry, combs and >brushes. I have tried my best to take in what is left of their presence and >there is one thing that makes me cry with joy that I can hold it in my hand >and smell the sweet smell of the years everytime I open or caress it, it >smells of leather and ink and age, but it's never dusty or used up....it's >always there with warmth and peace and love....it's their Bible. The one >piece of their lives that reaches generation after generation and is more >loved each time it's given to the next, it's the one part of them that they >couldn't live without, >they couldn't read it, most of them, but it was there and they knew what >it was saying, they had learned that through the years from their parents and >their parents before them. Aren't ancestors marvelous. They make us >who we are; a mixture of proof that they had made their mark on the land >and it can never be erased. Thanksgiving, yes I give thanks.....everyday. > >Written at Smithville, OK., July 1996 where my Dad was born. >Lou Ann Phillips Lunsford >