The Story Tellers

We are the chosen. 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. In finding them, we somehow find ourselves.

In each family there is one member who seems to hear the calling 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. In my family, I am the chosen one.

How many graves have I stood before and cried? I have lost count. How many times have I told my ancestors, "You have a wonderful family and you would be proud of us"? How many times have I walked up to a grave and felt somehow there was love for me? I cannot say. It goes beyond documenting facts. It goes to who I am and why do I do the things I do? It goes to seeing a cemetery about to be lost forever to weeds and indifference and saying to myself, "I can't let this happen..."

The bones here are bones of my bones and flesh of my flesh. It goes to doing something about it. It goes to pride in what our ancestors were able to accomplish. How they contributed to what we are today. It goes to respecting their hardships and losses, their never giving in or giving up.... their resolve to go ahead and build a life for their family, and for all the generations to follow.


(Copied from "Jackson Spurlock of the Eastern Kentucky Spurlock's" at http://familytreemaker.genealogy.com/users/s/p/u/Jackson-Spurlock/index.html)