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From the age of 18, I've had an avid interest in family history. I grew up in Shreveport, LA. I loved taking my mother to visit relatives in the AR/LA/TX/OK area. We would go to the cemeteries, mother would show me where all of our ancestors are buried, and share stories of many of them.|
THE STORY TELLERS.....Borrowed from the Beattie Project Newsletter - Author Unknown:
"We are the chosen. My feelings are, in each family, there is one who seems called to find the ancestors. To put flesh on their bones and make them live again, to tell the family story and to feel that somehow they know, and approve. To me, doing genealogy is not a cold gathering of facts but, instead, breathing life into all who have gone before. We are the story tellers of the tribe. All tribes have one. We have been called as it were, by our genes. Those who have gone before cry out to us: ‘Tell our story.' So, we do"...See entire story on my web site.
I am now almost 78 years old, and have carried on that tradition to this day. My husband and I just went to my 58th class reunion and drove to the cemeteries yet again. We stopped along the way to visit with some older relatives, as we usually do. We loved their stories, and visited the cemeteries between stops. This time, I stood at their graves telling them that I have enjoyed visiting them over the years but at my age, I may not be back again. For some reason, I have just always felt such a connection with them.
For weeks, I have been organizing my 60 year collection of headstone photos, setting up an index with names, dates, cemeteries, locations, and kinship. Next - share those photos with others. Fulfilling is not a strong enough word.
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