Yvonne gets ready for our walk through Greenwood.Although it was by far the hottest day of the year so far -- we managed to survive long enough to find a few lonely graves.
George plants a flag.
George plants a flag.The neatest thing about the trip was having the opportunity to introduce the kids to a few of their ancestors and relatives of the distant past... I'm just the type of person to be flooded with a sense of connectivity to my history at any given moment -- so graveyards are a huge emotional wellspring for me. Add a few of your kids to such a thing and it's almost overwhelming.
Yvonne meets her great, great, grand uncle for the first time -- Vincent Baptiste. Born around 1844, he was a young soldier of the Civil War. May he rest in peace.
The boys decorate the grave of their great, great, great grandfather - John Calvin Clark.
Looking back tonight as thunder rolls in the distance... It seems almost as if these last few days have been sent to me to remind me of why exactly we started the fight to stay here in Pascagoula: I saw the town during that picnic under the oaks in a way I have never taken the time to see before... And during last night's trip back to the park to hear the symphony (who had incidentally set up only feet from where the previous days' picnic had been) and the fireworks show made me feel as if we'd gone back in time two hundred years... We could have very well been walking among our ancestors on the shore last night...
And today, of course, it all came together with the visit to the old decaying cemetery. George and I searched for the long displaced marker for another great, great, great grandfather - Jacob Baptiste - for a few minutes... And when we finally found it mostly grown over with St. Augustine I swelled with something like pride - or maybe something like gratitude - when I saw George's expression as he shouted: "1788!! He was born in 1788? Do you know how long ago that was??!"
Yep. It's been far too long to walk away now.
Yvonne meets her great, great, grand uncle for the first time -- Vincent Baptiste. Born around 1844, he was a young soldier of the Civil War. May he rest in peace.
The boys decorate the grave of their great, great, great grandfather - John Calvin Clark.Looking back tonight as thunder rolls in the distance... It seems almost as if these last few days have been sent to me to remind me of why exactly we started the fight to stay here in Pascagoula: I saw the town during that picnic under the oaks in a way I have never taken the time to see before... And during last night's trip back to the park to hear the symphony (who had incidentally set up only feet from where the previous days' picnic had been) and the fireworks show made me feel as if we'd gone back in time two hundred years... We could have very well been walking among our ancestors on the shore last night...
And today, of course, it all came together with the visit to the old decaying cemetery. George and I searched for the long displaced marker for another great, great, great grandfather - Jacob Baptiste - for a few minutes... And when we finally found it mostly grown over with St. Augustine I swelled with something like pride - or maybe something like gratitude - when I saw George's expression as he shouted: "1788!! He was born in 1788? Do you know how long ago that was??!"
Yep. It's been far too long to walk away now.
2 comments:
Beautiful Anita! I agree that last evening was like taking a walk back in time. I found myself thinking of relatives that had been in my life and even those who were born many, many years before me. I felt as though time stood still and they all mingled together. You presented today's visit in an excellent way. The children were very respectful laying their flowers or flags on some relatives graves as well as those we didn't know but who had fought and died for America. Great job!
Despite the hot weather, the kids all look beautiful and the idea of seeing some of their own history and commemorating such a day with flowers, respect and learning was a brilliant and fantastic idea as a tribute.
Hugs,
Swapna
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