Hi Don, Yes to both. Thank you so much. I love how the Internet has enhanced genealogy!! Warmly, Dancing Eagle 5607 D Crenshaw Road Richmond, Virginia 23227-2528 ----- Original Message ----- From: <[email protected]> To: <[email protected]> Sent: Friday, January 21, 2005 1:33 PM Subject: Re: [MOSTONE-L] Magazine > Joan Gilbert happens to be an acquaintance of mine. She and my wife are good > friends. Joan wrote the article "Walking the Trail of Tears" that was > published in the Rural Missouri. The Rural Missouri is a local electric co-op > magazine that is sent to customers free of charge. > My wife talked with Joan, she has copies of the article and would > probably provide one for me to mail (snail) to you. Please let me know if you > would like a copy and provide your mailing address. > Also, Joan wrote and published a book titled "Trail of Tears Across > Missouri". Per Joan the book is still in print. Again, if interested in a copy > let me know and I will obtain the necessary info from Joan. > Please understand that I stand to make no financial gains, I'm just a > genealogy nut & Joan is a nice lady. > ................... don ....... [email protected] > > > ==== MOSTONE Mailing List ==== > >

Can you tell me where I can subscribe to this magazine? ----- Original Message ----- From: nora To: [email protected] Sent: Thursday, January 20, 2005 8:00 AM Subject: [MOSTONE-L] Photo in Ozarks Mountaineers Magazine Just thought I would let all of you that subscribe to the Ozarks Mountaineer Magazine know that my daughter's photo is on page 43 of the current Jan-Feb issue. Her name is Lisa Eden and has relatives in both Barry and Stone Counties. We love this magazine and find it very beneficial to our genealogy search. Nora Eden [email protected] ==== MOSTONE Mailing List ====

Joan Gilbert happens to be an acquaintance of mine. She and my wife are good friends. Joan wrote the article "Walking the Trail of Tears" that was published in the Rural Missouri. The Rural Missouri is a local electric co-op magazine that is sent to customers free of charge. My wife talked with Joan, she has copies of the article and would probably provide one for me to mail (snail) to you. Please let me know if you would like a copy and provide your mailing address. Also, Joan wrote and published a book titled "Trail of Tears Across Missouri". Per Joan the book is still in print. Again, if interested in a copy let me know and I will obtain the necessary info from Joan. Please understand that I stand to make no financial gains, I'm just a genealogy nut & Joan is a nice lady. ................... don ....... [email protected]

I haven't gotten the letter yet, have you? Dancing Eagle ----- Original Message ----- From: <[email protected]> To: <[email protected]> Sent: Friday, January 21, 2005 12:04 PM Subject: Re: [MOSTONE-L] Trail of Tears Letter - J G Burnett > This was so interesting, but very sad. Peoples inhumanity to people is so > amazing. > > Kenna > > > ==== MOSTONE Mailing List ==== > > >

This was so interesting, but very sad. Peoples inhumanity to people is so amazing. Kenna

Thank you Toni, I sent this on to Steve, we do have a Jesse B Hilton in our line but I have no wife on him. Steve is the Hilton, I am Manning/Davis with Hilton cousins. Ellie -------Original Message------- From: [email protected] Date: 01/21/05 05:40:22 To: [email protected] Subject: [MOSTONE-L] BLAINE EUGENE HILTON Obit Note: This clipping was given to me without a date or what paper. It may have been the Springfield Newsleader or the Crane Pap[e. Toni News paper Clipping about his death BLAINE EUGENE HILTON Blaine Eugene Hilton, 80, of Crane, dies at 9:45 P.M. Saturday, June 19, 1993 at his home, Funeral services were at 2 P.M. Wednesday, June 23 in the Aurora United Methodist Church with the Rev. Harold Gold and the Rev. Sandra Nenadal officiating. Burial was in the Osa Cemetery near Crane under direction of Peterson Funeral Home. He was born May 22, 1913, in Scholten, to Jessie and Frances Smith Hilton. He was a retired oil distributor for Phillips 66 and a farmer. He had been a member of the Aurora United Methodist Church for over 50 years. On January 1, 1934, he was married to Lois Hilton Survivors include his wife Lois; one son, Jerry and his wife Diane of Springfield; one sister, Imogene McNeil of Oakland, California; on granddaughter, Amanda Hilton; nieces and nephews. He was preceded in death by his parents, four brothers, and three sisters. Memorial contributions may be made to the building fund at the Aurora United Methodist Church. ==== MOSTONE Mailing List ====

How may I contact the White River Valley Historical Society? Thanks, Dancing Eagle ----- Original Message ----- From: Brian Shay <[email protected]> To: <[email protected]> Sent: Friday, January 21, 2005 1:12 AM Subject: Re: [MOSTONE-L] Magazine > Gary, > > I would love to have a copy for myself and if you don't mind I will > make a copy for the research archives for The White River Valley > Historical Society and give you and your family credit for thr info. > > Thanks, > > Brian Shay > > [email protected] > > >For those really interested in Trail of Tears I have something you may want > >to see. My 3G-Grandfather was a Private in the US Army and was part of the > >expedition that took the Cherokee to OK -- he was a translator. > >Anyways, when > >he was 80, he "dictated" his story to his grandson who wrote it down in the > >form of a letter to his grandchildren. > > > >Ostensibly, it reads like a confession from a man who hated that he was part > >of the removal. It is a little melodramatic and perhaps even historically > >"iffy" but it's interesting reading. He describes the Cherokee, > >their Chief John > >Ross and the "march" itself. My son came home from school (studying NC > >history) and asked me if he was related to this guy quoted in his history book > >with our last name .. I took him to the family room and showed him his tintype > >:-)... > > > >If anyone wants a copy, let me know.. I think I have it softcopy somewhere > >and can cut/paste into an eMail... It's several pages handwritten (probably 2 > >typewritten). > > > >Gary > > > > > >==== MOSTONE Mailing List ==== > > > ==== MOSTONE Mailing List ==== > > >

I would love to read it! Kenna

Good morning Brian, I am confused. Is this the same article referenced by Linda aka [email protected]? If so, never mind. But if this is a different reference, I am very interesting in receiving a copy. I am a member of the White River Band of the Chickamauga Cherokee Nation. Warmly, Dancing Eagle ----- Original Message ----- From: Brian Shay <[email protected]> To: <[email protected]> Sent: Friday, January 21, 2005 1:12 AM Subject: Re: [MOSTONE-L] Magazine > Gary, > > I would love to have a copy for myself and if you don't mind I will > make a copy for the research archives for The White River Valley > Historical Society and give you and your family credit for thr info. > > Thanks, > > Brian Shay > > [email protected] > > >For those really interested in Trail of Tears I have something you may want > >to see. My 3G-Grandfather was a Private in the US Army and was part of the > >expedition that took the Cherokee to OK -- he was a translator. > >Anyways, when > >he was 80, he "dictated" his story to his grandson who wrote it down in the > >form of a letter to his grandchildren. > > > >Ostensibly, it reads like a confession from a man who hated that he was part > >of the removal. It is a little melodramatic and perhaps even historically > >"iffy" but it's interesting reading. He describes the Cherokee, > >their Chief John > >Ross and the "march" itself. My son came home from school (studying NC > >history) and asked me if he was related to this guy quoted in his history book > >with our last name .. I took him to the family room and showed him his tintype > >:-)... > > > >If anyone wants a copy, let me know.. I think I have it softcopy somewhere > >and can cut/paste into an eMail... It's several pages handwritten (probably 2 > >typewritten). > > > >Gary > > > > > >==== MOSTONE Mailing List ==== > > > ==== MOSTONE Mailing List ==== > > >

Do a net search. Last year I did a ton of on-line reading regarding this band. Joy Shannon Ventuleth wrote: >Hi Dancing Eagle - My Great Grandmother always told my father her parents were Chickamauga Cherokee who settled in the White River/Pea Ridge area in the late 1820/early 1830s. I have no other genealogical proof other than her own word that this is true. You are the first person who I have ever heard use the words CHICKAMAUGA Cherokee outside of my immediate family. She did not sign up on any of the Cherokee Rolls, so her descendants are unable to officially belong to any tribe. She "passed for white" and this was a big deep dark family secret passed on down through my grandfather and father. They left the Pea Ridge area during the Civil War and then returned by 1870 when they settled in Barry County/Stone County. She married my Great Grandfather, a 48 year old widower with 4 kids, when she was 18. I would love to know anything about the White River Band that you can tell me. Even though she is not on any Roll, it is my heritage, and I would really appeciate your help. You ! c! >an contact me off-list at [email protected] > >Thank you, >Shannon Butler Ventuleth > > >==== MOSTONE Mailing List ==== > > > > >

Gary, I would also love to have a copy. Thank you for sharing. Caroline -----Original Message----- From: [email protected] [mailto:[email protected]] Sent: Thursday, January 20, 2005 11:27 PM To: [email protected] Subject: Re: [MOSTONE-L] Magazine For those really interested in Trail of Tears I have something you may want to see. My 3G-Grandfather was a Private in the US Army and was part of the expedition that took the Cherokee to OK -- he was a translator. Anyways, when he was 80, he "dictated" his story to his grandson who wrote it down in the form of a letter to his grandchildren. Ostensibly, it reads like a confession from a man who hated that he was part of the removal. It is a little melodramatic and perhaps even historically "iffy" but it's interesting reading. He describes the Cherokee, their Chief John Ross and the "march" itself. My son came home from school (studying NC history) and asked me if he was related to this guy quoted in his history book with our last name.. I took him to the family room and showed him his tintype :-)... If anyone wants a copy, let me know.. I think I have it softcopy somewhere and can cut/paste into an eMail... It's several pages handwritten (probably 2 typewritten). Gary ==== MOSTONE Mailing List ====

HI Toni, I would be glad to correspond with your cousin. Like I said, there are those around, and also live closer to your cousin, that have so much data on the Bowlings, that I am not confident I can give her more, although, I probably have as much or more on Matilda Ann Bowling (married to James Noe Branham), than most. My husband was born in Aurora. But he was pretty little when they left there. His folks moved between there, Arkansas, and California, quite a bit. We live in Kelso, Washington. Larry's grandmother never said anything about the Bowlings, just a little about her mom, who died when she (Agnes Branham/Filbeck) was around 12. So I have from Matilda and James family on down. Also have a little on Matilda's first husband and a little on their kids. I am a collector. I have accumulated some wonderful stories, and sad ones on a few of the Bowlings. Also pictures. The people I have mentioned to you, who have helped me, have been so generous. I have put scrapbooks together for my kids, grandkids, Larrys 1 living sister, and about 5 of his cousins. Anyway, it is good to talk to you. Email when you have time. Goldie [email protected] wrote: Goldie, I talked with my first cousin, Damarus Bowling Gray. She said that she would be happy to visit with anyone researching the Bowling line. She lives at Aurora. She wanted to know where you live and your last name. Let me know if you want her address and phone number. Genna Faye's last name is Burgess now but her maiden name was Cook. I believe that her mother was a Bowling. I do know that she is very involved with the Bowling reunions. Toni ==== MOSTONE Mailing List ==== --------------------------------- Do you Yahoo!? Yahoo! Search presents - Jib Jab's 'Second Term'

Hi Dancing Eagle - My Great Grandmother always told my father her parents were Chickamauga Cherokee who settled in the White River/Pea Ridge area in the late 1820/early 1830s. I have no other genealogical proof other than her own word that this is true. You are the first person who I have ever heard use the words CHICKAMAUGA Cherokee outside of my immediate family. She did not sign up on any of the Cherokee Rolls, so her descendants are unable to officially belong to any tribe. She "passed for white" and this was a big deep dark family secret passed on down through my grandfather and father. They left the Pea Ridge area during the Civil War and then returned by 1870 when they settled in Barry County/Stone County. She married my Great Grandfather, a 48 year old widower with 4 kids, when she was 18. I would love to know anything about the White River Band that you can tell me. Even though she is not on any Roll, it is my heritage, and I would really appeciate your help. You c! an contact me off-list at [email protected] Thank you, Shannon Butler Ventuleth

Yes, thank you....... calling her today........ dan ----- Original Message ----- From: <[email protected]> To: <[email protected]> Sent: Friday, January 21, 2005 3:42 AM Subject: Re: [MOSTONE-L] Cox & Pruitt - Bowling > Thanks, Dan. That did the trick. Did you get my E-mail with Damarus's > address, etc.? > Toni > > > ==== MOSTONE Mailing List ==== > > >

Gary I would love to have a copy. This is so interesting. Thanks, Nora Eden [email protected] ----- Original Message ----- From: <[email protected]> To: <[email protected]> Sent: Thursday, January 20, 2005 11:26 PM Subject: Re: [MOSTONE-L] Magazine > For those really interested in Trail of Tears I have something you may want > to see. My 3G-Grandfather was a Private in the US Army and was part of the > expedition that took the Cherokee to OK -- he was a translator. Anyways, when > he was 80, he "dictated" his story to his grandson who wrote it down in the > form of a letter to his grandchildren. > > Ostensibly, it reads like a confession from a man who hated that he was part > of the removal. It is a little melodramatic and perhaps even historically > "iffy" but it's interesting reading. He describes the Cherokee, their Chief John > Ross and the "march" itself. My son came home from school (studying NC > history) and asked me if he was related to this guy quoted in his history book > with our last name .. I took him to the family room and showed him his tintype > :-)... > > If anyone wants a copy, let me know.. I think I have it softcopy somewhere > and can cut/paste into an eMail... It's several pages handwritten (probably 2 > typewritten). > > Gary > > > ==== MOSTONE Mailing List ==== > >

THANK YOU SO MUCH!!, I really enjoyed this, Gary. Diane Biggar-Taylor > Well, I mentioned the letter and within 10 minutes had two responses, > so I'll > go ahead and cut/paste here. Hopefully this isn't too long a post > :-) ... > Gary

Thanks, Dan. That did the trick. Did you get my E-mail with Damarus's address, etc.? Toni

Note: This clipping was given to me without a date or what paper. It may have been the Springfield Newsleader or the Crane Pap[e. Toni News paper Clipping about his death BLAINE EUGENE HILTON Blaine Eugene Hilton, 80, of Crane, dies at 9:45 P.M. Saturday, June 19, 1993 at his home, Funeral services were at 2 P.M. Wednesday, June 23 in the Aurora United Methodist Church with the Rev. Harold Gold and the Rev. Sandra Nenadal officiating. Burial was in the Osa Cemetery near Crane under direction of Peterson Funeral Home. He was born May 22, 1913, in Scholten, to Jessie and Frances Smith Hilton. He was a retired oil distributor for Phillips 66 and a farmer. He had been a member of the Aurora United Methodist Church for over 50 years. On January 1, 1934, he was married to Lois Hilton Survivors include his wife Lois; one son, Jerry and his wife Diane of Springfield; one sister, Imogene McNeil of Oakland, California; on granddaughter, Amanda Hilton; nieces and nephews. He was preceded in death by his parents, four brothers, and three sisters. Memorial contributions may be made to the building fund at the Aurora United Methodist Church.

Well, I mentioned the letter and within 10 minutes had two responses, so I'll go ahead and cut/paste here. Hopefully this isn't too long a post :-) ... Gary Birthday Story of Private John G. Burnett, Captain Abraham McClellan’s Company, 2nd Regiment, 2nd Brigade, Mounted Infantry, Cherokee Indian Removal, 1838-39. Children: This is my birthday, December 11, 1890, I am eighty years old today. I was born at Kings Iron Works in Sulllivan County, Tennessee, December the 11th, 1810. I grew into manhood fishing in Beaver Creek and roaming through the forest hunting the deer and the wild boar and the timber wolf. Often spending weeks at a time in the solitary wilderness with no companions but my rifle, hunting knife, and a small hatchet that I carried in my belt in all of my wilderness wanderings. On these long hunting trips I met and became acquainted with many of the Cherokee Indians, hunting with them by day and sleeping around their camp fires by night. I learned to speak their language, and they taught me the arts of trailing and building traps and snares. On one of my long hunts in the fall of 1829, I found a young Cherokee who had been shot by a roving band of hunters and who had eluded his pursuers and concealed himself under a shelving rock. Weak from loss of blood, the poor creature was unable to walk and almost famished for water. I carried him to a spring, bathed and bandaged the bullet wound, and built a shelter out of bark peeled from a dead chestnut tree. I nursed and protected him feeding him on chestnuts and toasted deer meat. When he was able to travel I accompanied him to the home of his people and remained so long that I was given up for lost. By this time I had become an expert rifleman and fairly good archer and a good trapper and spent most of my time in the forest in quest of game. The removal of Cherokee Indians from their life long homes in the year of 1838 found me a young man in the prime of life and a Private soldier in the American Army. Being acquainted with many of the Indians and able to fluently speak their language, I was sent as interpreter into the Smoky Mountain Country in May, 1838, and witnessed the execution of the most brutal order in the History of American Warfare. I saw the helpless Cherokees arrested and dragged from their homes, and driven at the bayonet point into the stockades. And in the chill of a drizzling rain on an October morning I saw them loaded like cattle or sheep into six hundred and forty-five wagons and started toward the west. One can never forget the sadness and solemnity of that morning. Chief John Ross led in prayer and when the bugle sounded and the wagons started rolling many of the children rose to their feet and waved their little hands good-by to their mountain homes, knowing they were leaving them forever. Many of these helpless people did not have blankets and many of them had been driven from home barefooted. On the morning of November the 17th we encountered a terrific sleet and snow storm with freezing temperatures and from that day until we reached the end of the fateful journey on March the 26th, 1839, the sufferings of the Cherokees were awful. The trail of the exiles was a trail of death. They had to sleep in the wagons and on the ground without fire. And I have known as many as twenty-two of them to die in one night of pneumonia due to ill treatment, cold, and exposure. Among this number was the beautiful Christian wife of Chief John Ross. This noble hearted woman died a martyr to childhood, giving her only blanket for the protection of a sick child. She rode thinly clad through a blinding sleet and snow storm, developed pneumonia and died in the still hours of a bleak winter night, with her head resting on Lieutenant Greggs saddle blanket. I made the long journey to the west with the Cherokees and did all that a Private soldier could do to alleviate their sufferings. When on guard duty at night I have many times walked my beat in my blouse in order that some sick child might have the warmth of my overcoat. I was on guard duty the night Mrs. Ross died. When relieved at midnight I did not retire, but remained around the wagon out of sympathy for Chief Ross, and at daylight was detailed by Captain McClellan to assist in the burial like the other unfortunates who died on the way. Her unconfined body was buried in a shallow grave by the roadside far from her native home, and the sorrowing Cavalcade moved on. Being a young man, I mingled freely with the young women and girls. I have spent many pleasant hours with them when I was supposed to be under my blanket, and they have many times sung their mountain songs for me, this being all that they could do to repay my kindness. And with all my association with Indian girls from October 1829 to March 26th 1839, I did not meet one who was a moral prostitute. They are kind and tender hearted and many of them are beautiful. The only trouble that I had with anybody on the entire journey to the west was a brutal teamster by the name of Ben McDonal, who was using his whip on an old feeble Cherokee to hasten him into the wagon. The sight of that old and nearly blind creature quivering under the lashes of a bull whip was too much for me. I attempted to stop McDonal and it ended in a personal encounter. He lashed me across the face, the wire tip on his whip cutting a bad gash in my cheek. The little hatchet that I had carried in my hunting days was in my belt and McDonal was carried unconscious from the scene. I was placed under guard but Ensign Henry Bullock and Private Elkanah Millard had both witnessed the encounter. They gave Captain McClellan the facts and I was never brought to trial. Years later I met 2nd Lieutenant Riley and Ensign Bullock at Bristol at John Roberson’s show, and Bullock jokingly reminded me that there was a case still pending against me before a court martial and wanted to know how much longer I was going to have the trial put off? McDonal finally recovered, and in the year 1851, was running a boat out of Memphis, Tennessee. The long painful journey to the west ended March 26th, 1839, with four-thousand silent graves reaching from the foothills of the Smoky Mountains to what is known as Indian territory in the West. And covetousness on the part of the white race was the cause of all that the Cherokees had to suffer. Ever since Ferdinand DeSoto made his journey through the Indian country in the year 1540, there had been a tradition of a rich gold mine somewhere in the Smoky Mountain Country, and I think the tradition was true. At a festival at Echota on Christmas night 1829, I danced and played with Indian girls who were wearing ornaments around their neck that looked like gold. In the year 1828, a little Indian boy living on Ward creek had sold a gold nugget to a white trader, and that nugget sealed the doom of the Cherokees. In a short time the country was overrun with armed brigands claiming to be government agents, who paid no attention to the rights of the Indians who were the legal possessors of the country. Crimes were committed that were a disgrace to civilization. Men were shot in cold blood, lands were confiscated. Homes were burned and the inhabitants driven out by the gold-hungry brigands. Chief Junaluska was personally acquainted with President Andrew Jackson. Junaluska had taken 500 of the flower of his Cherokee scouts and helped Jackson to win the battle of the Horse Shoe, leaving 33 of them dead on the field. And in that battle Junaluska had drove his tomahawk through the skull of a Creek warrior, when the Creek had Jackson at his mercy. Chief John Ross sent Junaluska as an envoy to plead with President Jackson for protection for his people, but Jackson’s manner was cold and indifferent toward the rugged son of the forest who had saved his life. He met Junaluska, heard his plea but curtly said, "Sir, your audience is ended. There is nothing I can do for you." The doom of the Cherokee was sealed. Washington, D.C., had decreed that they must be driven West and their lands given to the white man, and in May 1838, an army of 4000 regulars, and 3000 volunteer soldiers under command of General Winfield Scott, marched into the Indian country and wrote the blackest chapter on the pages of American history. Men working in the fields were arrested and driven to the stockades. Women were dragged from their homes by soldiers whose language they could not understand. Children were often separated from their parents and driven into the stockades with the sky for a blanket and the earth for a pillow. And often the old and infirm were prodded with bayonets to hasten them to the stockades. In one home death had come during the night. A little sad-faced child had died and was lying on a bear skin couch and some women were preparing the little body for burial. All were arrested and driven out leaving the child in the cabin. I don’t know who buried the body. In another home was a frail mother, apparently a widow and three small children, one just a baby. When told that she must go, the mother gathered the children at her feet, prayed a humble prayer in her native tongue, patted the old family dog on the head, told the faithful creature good-by, with a baby strapped on her back and leading a child with each hand started on her exile. But the task was too great for that frail mother. A stroke of heart failure relieved her sufferings. She sunk and died with her baby on her back, and her other two children clinging to her hands. Chief Junaluska who had saved President Jackson’s life at the battle of Horse Shoe witnessed this scene, the tears gushing down his cheeks and lifting his cap he turned his face toward the heavens and said, "Oh my God, if I had known at the battle of the Horse Shoe what I know now, American history would have been differently written." At this time, 1890, we are too near the removal of the Cherokees for our young people to fully understand the enormity of the crime that was committed against a helpless race. Truth is, the facts are being concealed from the young people of today. School children of today do not know that we are living on lands that were taken from a helpless race at the bayonet point to satisfy the white man’s greed. Future generations will read and condemn the act and I do hope posterity will remember that private soldiers like myself, and like the four Cherokees who were forced by General Scott to shoot an Indian Chief and his children, had to execute the orders of our superiors. We had no choice in the matter. Twenty-five years after the removal it was my privilege to meet a large company of the Cherokees in uniform of the Confederate Army under command of Colonel Thomas. They were encamped at Zollicoffer and I went to see them. Most of them were just boys at the time of the removal but they instantly recognized me as "the soldier that was good to us". Being able to talk to them in their native language I had an enjoyable day with them. From them I learned that Chief John Ross was still ruler in the nation in 1863. And I wonder if he is still living? He was a noble-hearted fellow and suffered a lot for his race. At one time, he was arrested and thrown into a dirty jail in an effort to break his spirit, but he remained true to his people and led them in prayer when they started on their exile. And his Christian wife sacrificed her life for a little girl who had pneumonia. The Anglo-Saxon race would build a towering monument to perpetuate her noble act in giving her only blanket for comfort of a sick child. Incidentally the child recovered, but Mrs. Ross is sleeping in a unmarked grave far from her native Smoky Mountain home. When Scott invaded the Indian country some of the Cherokees fled to caves and dens in the mountains and were never captured and they are there today. I have long intended going there and trying to find them but I have put off going from year to year and now I am too feeble to ride that far. The fleeing years have come and gone and old age has overtaken me. I can truthfully say that neither my rifle nor my knife were stained with Cherokee blood. I can truthfully say that I did my best for them when they certainly did need a friend. Twenty-five years after the removal I still lived in their memory as "the soldier that was good to us". However, murder is murder whether committed by the villain skulking in the dark or by uniformed men stepping to the strains of martial music. Murder is murder, and somebody must answer. Somebody must explain the streams of blood that flowed in the Indian country in the summer of 1838. Somebody must explain the 4000 silent graves that mark the trail of the Cherokees to their exile. I wish I could forget it all, but the picture of 645 wagons lumbering over the frozen ground with their cargo of suffering humanity still lingers in my memory. Let the historian of a future day tell the sad story with its sighs, its tears and dying groans. Let the great Judge of all the earth weigh our actions and reward us according to our work. Children - Thus ends my promised birthday story. This December the 11th 1890.

For those really interested in Trail of Tears I have something you may want to see. My 3G-Grandfather was a Private in the US Army and was part of the expedition that took the Cherokee to OK -- he was a translator. Anyways, when he was 80, he "dictated" his story to his grandson who wrote it down in the form of a letter to his grandchildren. Ostensibly, it reads like a confession from a man who hated that he was part of the removal. It is a little melodramatic and perhaps even historically "iffy" but it's interesting reading. He describes the Cherokee, their Chief John Ross and the "march" itself. My son came home from school (studying NC history) and asked me if he was related to this guy quoted in his history book with our last name .. I took him to the family room and showed him his tintype :-)... If anyone wants a copy, let me know.. I think I have it softcopy somewhere and can cut/paste into an eMail... It's several pages handwritten (probably 2 typewritten). Gary