I made up two big notebooks of genealogy for my first cousin who is coming to visit me in Colorado from Ohio on Tuesday and entitled it "Geodes". I wrote a little preface for the books and let two of my cousins, Christy Campbell (Murphy cousin) and Judy Fisk (Edwards cousin) read it. Both of them have encouraged me to submit it to the list, so here it is. I hope y'all enjoy it. Jackie Taylor Zortman GEODES The dictionary defines geode as a nodule of stone having a large cavity lined with crystals and minerals. In the creeks of Casey County, Kentucky many rugged geodes can be found on the bottom, washed up alongside the water or imbedded in the clay banks. Those of us who spent any time wading in the cooling waters of Brush Creek, on a hot and sultry summer's day during our youth, came to know these particular geodes intimately. And, after years of genealogy research, this is the way I have come to view the history of the pioneer families that settled along the various waters in the county. Like a geode, each surname is rugged and sturdy and not particularly outstanding on the outside. But when you break that geode open, it reveals a myriad of marvelous crystals that catch your attention immediately and make you realize that this is not just another ordinary rock you have picked up. A few crystals are large and splendid, while some remain forever very tiny, but most are about the same size and are hard to distinguish one from the other. An occasional one glimmers beautifully and draws your attention to it quickly, while others are covered with the dust of former creek bottom mud. And a few are badly broken. Some drop out when you open the rock and can never be found. These crystals, to me, represent each individual who, collectively, make up the families. Most of these geodes have a sturdy, but rather thin, "shell" and can be easily broken open to reveal the wonderful contents ensconced inside it for many, many years. But some have a particularly thick outer shell and only a tiny cavity is revealed. You have to hold those up and look carefully at the beautiful crystals inside, but there usually are only a few to be seen. These geodes tend to contain a more spectacular display of strong and splendid crystals, however. As a youngster, I never dreamed that those odd rocks we frolicked with so nonchalantly would come to hold such a dear place in my heart. Even though I have moved far away from Kentucky, I still keep a few of the geodes from Brush Creek in my Colorado mountain home. They sit upon a sturdy beam, so I can see them and remember the dear people who now only live within my memory. Most of the old family homes have been torn down or are falling to ruin. A few skeletonized houses still stand back in the shadows of the thick trees and vines as ghostly reminders of what used to be. The land has grown very quiet and the eerie stillness seems surreal. Places that once rang with laughter and many voices now only hear the sounds of whispering winds. Big homes are being built here and there today and some folks are restoring old homesteads. The quaint and challenging dirt roads are paved now. Nobody has to dash to an outbuilding for facilities or carry water from the crystal clear and ice cold spring. Kerosene lamps no longer cast their flickering glow upon the people who once worked the fields by day and gathered together inside the houses at night. And the telephone has replaced the daily walks or rides to visit one's neighbors to break the monotony of rural isolation. The Poplar Grove Church, where I first learned the logistics of "fire and brimstone" religion as a child beside my grandmother, still sits not far from the fallen log house where she delivered me when I was born on Chelf Ridge. But the cemetery has grown very full and it is quiet now. Those whose hands I once grasped firmly, as we walked these beautiful Kentucky hills and "hollers" together, are now resting beneath a headstone of granite on the same ground where they once brought covered dishes of food and great containers of lemonade and iced tea to a family reunion. It seems like only yesterday. But one thing is still there and they still look the same. They were there when our earliest ancestor first set foot on this soil, as well. If you walk along the shores of Brush Creek or Shuck's Creek or any other creek in the county, you can see them. They are there beneath the water or you can just reach down and pick one up near your feet. And that is those unique geodes of Casey County, Kentucky. (Copyright 1999 Jackie Taylor Zortman)