AS OF JANUARY 2024, i will no longer be transferring memorials to anyone unless immediate family members. Please understand that I have worked many hours in the cold and heat to provide photos and as much info as I possibly can for families. If there are any hangers or information that needs blot be added please feel free to message me and I will add to the memorial. Thank you for your understanding.

Easter Sundays were spent loading up the green 81' Oldsmobile Cutlass with dozens of Paaz colored, hard boiled eggs, paper plates, napkins, forks, and anything else mom thought we needed for a picnic. In the back of that beloved red 81' C10 Chevy Silverado, daddy would gather his chainsaw, rake, shovel, and anything else he would need to do some "landscaping". We would always make a pit stop at the famous Church's, and load up on a huge bucket of the crispy chicken, mashed potatoes, coleslaw, corn on the cob, green beans, …..basically every side item Church's offered, and, of course, mama made sure to grab extra packets of hot sauce. "Let's not forget the honey biscuits!!!!" And, what seemed like an eternity, we would drive until we hit the dirt roads, in a small, country town that my dad was way too familiar with, until we saw the handmade sign of my great grandfather's family cemetery. After we had finished eating, my two older siblings would entertain me by hiding the eggs while mama and daddy revamped the graves. And, as most little kids did, they would hide them over and over and over again. I never got tired of searching for those eggs behind trees, beside rocks, on top of headstones, or between the old wrought iron gates that surrounded my great, great aunt and uncles' plots. To the young me, it was basically just a game of "hide-and-seek". Now, to the adult me, it has turned into a "search and find" hobby, helping others either locate their ancestors, or simply just letting them see their relative's final rest place. Now, when I enter a cemetery, I look back on all the precious memories of my family's Easter Sundays, and also thank my parents for never putting fear in me of what a cemetery is quite often mistaken to be. I enter with hopes of finding my loved ones who have passed on, and even help those of others' who are no longer able to make it to their graves, who lived in another state, or even on the other side of the world to see where their ancestors have been laid to rest as well. And, my teenage daughters enjoy doing the same thing. With a sweep broom in one's hands, a huge trash bag in the others for the scattered, damaged, silk flower pieces here and there, and a charged phone, we head out on another adventure, praying that we have helped somehow or another. I began volunteering for Find-A-Grave a few years ago, and my daughters are learning, as I still am, how to do things. If you see an error that I have made, please message me. Any "uncalled for", "rude", "disrespectful", "immature" message, will, of course, be read, however, not worth our time. If there are any mistakes, I will kindly fix them. And, yes, we do have a pet peeve about military rankings not being added to the deceased's' name. These men and women dedicated their lives to protect us, our country, and our freedom and deserve to be noticed for their achievements. It doesn't help the fact that, I too, am a Military Brat. My daughters are also JROTC. If we have photographed any servicemen whose marker has St. Augustine runners, or pine straw, or partially sunken, please keep in mind, before you message me, that there are fire ants, snakes, spiders, and other things that have prevented us from cleaning the marker. For most of us, a simple photo is all someone wants to hold on to of their ancestor. If I have added an additional photo on someone's profile, it is only for adding the GPS. I take photos from an old IPhone 6s, so believe me, I am not in "competition with" anyone else. If I have suggested an edit, it is because of my own past experience with misspelled names, incorrect dates, and even prefixes and suffixes from researching my family tree on Ancestry. Lord only knows how many times "Zachariah" could be passed down from parent to children to children's children to aunts, uncles, nieces, and cousins. Sometimes I wonder if someone even named their furbaby "Zach". However, that one LITTLE typo helped in a BIG way!!! If you have read this far into my bio, I want to say "Thank You". I, myself, read other volunteer bio's as well, and there has always been one who stood out to me the most. I will not copy their's, however, I will type it in my own words. "There are some things in life that are just like Grandma's old homemade banana pudding recipe, you know, the one that she would never tell you how to make and never wrote it down? The one that you wished was on the dinner table the Thanksgiving after she had passed away? The one that NOONE can make just like HER'S?" With that being said, take the photos, not matter how good or bad they may appear to you. Pass them down to others so that they, too, may have the knowledge of their ancestors. Keep their memory alive, and never once forget where you come from.

AS OF JANUARY 2024, i will no longer be transferring memorials to anyone unless immediate family members. Please understand that I have worked many hours in the cold and heat to provide photos and as much info as I possibly can for families. If there are any hangers or information that needs blot be added please feel free to message me and I will add to the memorial. Thank you for your understanding.

Easter Sundays were spent loading up the green 81' Oldsmobile Cutlass with dozens of Paaz colored, hard boiled eggs, paper plates, napkins, forks, and anything else mom thought we needed for a picnic. In the back of that beloved red 81' C10 Chevy Silverado, daddy would gather his chainsaw, rake, shovel, and anything else he would need to do some "landscaping". We would always make a pit stop at the famous Church's, and load up on a huge bucket of the crispy chicken, mashed potatoes, coleslaw, corn on the cob, green beans, …..basically every side item Church's offered, and, of course, mama made sure to grab extra packets of hot sauce. "Let's not forget the honey biscuits!!!!" And, what seemed like an eternity, we would drive until we hit the dirt roads, in a small, country town that my dad was way too familiar with, until we saw the handmade sign of my great grandfather's family cemetery. After we had finished eating, my two older siblings would entertain me by hiding the eggs while mama and daddy revamped the graves. And, as most little kids did, they would hide them over and over and over again. I never got tired of searching for those eggs behind trees, beside rocks, on top of headstones, or between the old wrought iron gates that surrounded my great, great aunt and uncles' plots. To the young me, it was basically just a game of "hide-and-seek". Now, to the adult me, it has turned into a "search and find" hobby, helping others either locate their ancestors, or simply just letting them see their relative's final rest place. Now, when I enter a cemetery, I look back on all the precious memories of my family's Easter Sundays, and also thank my parents for never putting fear in me of what a cemetery is quite often mistaken to be. I enter with hopes of finding my loved ones who have passed on, and even help those of others' who are no longer able to make it to their graves, who lived in another state, or even on the other side of the world to see where their ancestors have been laid to rest as well. And, my teenage daughters enjoy doing the same thing. With a sweep broom in one's hands, a huge trash bag in the others for the scattered, damaged, silk flower pieces here and there, and a charged phone, we head out on another adventure, praying that we have helped somehow or another. I began volunteering for Find-A-Grave a few years ago, and my daughters are learning, as I still am, how to do things. If you see an error that I have made, please message me. Any "uncalled for", "rude", "disrespectful", "immature" message, will, of course, be read, however, not worth our time. If there are any mistakes, I will kindly fix them. And, yes, we do have a pet peeve about military rankings not being added to the deceased's' name. These men and women dedicated their lives to protect us, our country, and our freedom and deserve to be noticed for their achievements. It doesn't help the fact that, I too, am a Military Brat. My daughters are also JROTC. If we have photographed any servicemen whose marker has St. Augustine runners, or pine straw, or partially sunken, please keep in mind, before you message me, that there are fire ants, snakes, spiders, and other things that have prevented us from cleaning the marker. For most of us, a simple photo is all someone wants to hold on to of their ancestor. If I have added an additional photo on someone's profile, it is only for adding the GPS. I take photos from an old IPhone 6s, so believe me, I am not in "competition with" anyone else. If I have suggested an edit, it is because of my own past experience with misspelled names, incorrect dates, and even prefixes and suffixes from researching my family tree on Ancestry. Lord only knows how many times "Zachariah" could be passed down from parent to children to children's children to aunts, uncles, nieces, and cousins. Sometimes I wonder if someone even named their furbaby "Zach". However, that one LITTLE typo helped in a BIG way!!! If you have read this far into my bio, I want to say "Thank You". I, myself, read other volunteer bio's as well, and there has always been one who stood out to me the most. I will not copy their's, however, I will type it in my own words. "There are some things in life that are just like Grandma's old homemade banana pudding recipe, you know, the one that she would never tell you how to make and never wrote it down? The one that you wished was on the dinner table the Thanksgiving after she had passed away? The one that NOONE can make just like HER'S?" With that being said, take the photos, not matter how good or bad they may appear to you. Pass them down to others so that they, too, may have the knowledge of their ancestors. Keep their memory alive, and never once forget where you come from.