Too good to not pass on... Sunday Afternoon Rocking The Gift of Living History (from the Sunday Afternoon Rocking series) Malissa looked up from the garden and pushed a strand of hair from her sweaty face. "Where's Jim?", Nate hollered, drawing his horse up and ignoring the cries of the children welcoming their uncle. Malissa blinked and Nate did not bother awaiting an answer…of course Jim was down pasture. He galloped off and Malissa stood with her hands on her hips and a feeling of alarm. Her alarm was well grounded, for Nate had come with a warning. War had entered their homeland… and nothing would be the same again. Tonight she and Jim would bury the six place settings of family silver and the few coins they had to their name. They would bury the silver teapot that had come over the mountains with Jim's grandparents. Tonight they would convince their twelve-year-old son to wear a dress and a bonnet. Tonight they would warn their children to stay close. They would hide away food provisions. And in the days that followed they would cringe at the sound of the cannon fire. Folks would drop by and speak to Jim in whispered tones. Finally Jim would arm a gun for Malissa and one for himself, he would remind her what they had planned in case of trouble, and he would ride off with his brother. And when that was over, the nightmare would just have begun…and it was not even the armies themselves to fear, but the drifters who took advantage of a war ravaged country. And when that fear had abated, the carpetbaggers would come… I do not know that this scene ever took place, but it might have, might well have. For my family lived so close to a battlefield that my grandfather was able to tell me of his own grandparents telling him of it, of the sound of the cannon fire, of the dark days afterward. He would stretch a hand toward me, and uncurl his fingers to reveal a mini ball, and as I sat rolling it in my own smaller palms, he would talk of those days he did not remember, but the scar of which was firmly imprinted on his memory of those who did. All too often, all I have of my ancestors is the paperwork that prove they existed, if I am lucky a tombstone, sometimes a living memory link, but no more than a wisp… And so I look at the time frames they lived in, and where they were, and try to visualize a scene that was likely to have taken place, a word that was likely to have been spoken, a worry that had to have been carried on a heart. Maybe you do the same. It has occurred to me often to wish there were diaries, journals, something to tell me what they witnessed, what they lived through, what they remembered… but there is nothing like that. There are letters of a grandfather and a great grandmother, and the telegram they received telling them a brother and son had been killed in the first World War..there are his letters… I touch these, read them, feel the emotion…and wish for all of the stories of the past…the Confederate soldiers I know were there, the Revolutionary soldiers, the natives and the native fighters…that there were words on paper, words written by them. The act of pursuing genealogy, ancestors, has made history live for me, and just knowing they were in a place I have read of, a part of an event I have memorized in a class, has been thrilling. None of my ancestors were important enough to have been documented in history, none of them made great names for themselves, none of them were anything more than the common people who made up the backdrop for history to unfold. And all of them were the quiet characters on the stage that gave the scene the energy and vitality to unfold. I can use that which is documented, and my imagination and fill in what might have been their thoughts and their fears, their dreams, their motivation. But oh to have it in their words! That would not change history, or give insight into the power bases that made history…but it would do something more. It would give a glimpse of what each event was to the common man and woman who lived in its time…and that is what most of our families are. My life is but a short strand in the long links that make up time, but my children think it amazing I remember when John Glenn took his historic flight around the earth. They think it amazing that my husband was a part of the blockade during the Cuban missile crisis. It came to me recently to make a list of all of the things I remember of historic importance. The Cuban missile crisis, fallout shelters and drills, the assassination of JFK, the clips on evening news of war zones in a tropical country… For such a short strand in time, it is amazing the list that unfolds. And for each of these times and events, I have written a short paragraph telling where I was, why it is that the moment is carved so poignantly in memory, what the words were I heard spoken about me, what the feeling was. My list is not so long ago, it seems to me. For my children, it makes history live. I wish my parents, my grandparents; all of my ancestors had done such a thing… It is not too late to begin. Such a simple idea…why did I never think to do it before? For Christmas, my children will receive a living legacy and a beginning. My mother, myself, my husband will list all of the events that shaped a nation and a world, and which we personally remember or were a part of as common people. We will write a bit about each time, and try to make our adult children feel the mood of the times, and see it as it was. And we will end this notebook with blank pages that they might begin the same such documentation to pass on to their own children. And…we hope…that between the five of them, at least some family lines will continue this tradition of making history a living thing. We will hope that at least some of our descendants will keep the tradition, and that for many, history will become a real and breathing thing, a link to the past…and a glimpse of a future should history repeat itself. And something more…a source of pride, a feeling of belonging to some great chain of events much longer and more meaningful than our own singular strand in it. We invite you to join us and do the same for your own family! Copyright ©2002JanPhilpot ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ (Note: Afternoon Rocking messages are meant to be passed on, meant to be shared...simply share as written without alterations...and in entirety. Thanks, jan) Sunday Afternoon Rocking columns are distributed weekly on the list Sunday Rocking. This is not a "reply to" list, and normally only one message per week will come across it, that being the column. To subscribe send email to Sundayrocking-subscribe@topica.com Comments about the content of these messages can be sent to unicorn@sun-spot.com ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ListMom for MO-AR-WRV http://homepages.rootsweb.com/~moarwrv/ http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~gregvonda/ http://worldconnect.rootsweb.com/~vondak/