Alumni Update

I received a few emails a couple of months ago from the Endicott Alumni Association asking for updates from my graduation class. It has been interesting reading the scattered responses and ever since the request came in I have been planning on sending an update. The problem has been that over the past decade there have been so many changes (heck, over the past year) that it is difficult to know where to start. Well, here is my attempt at providing a summary of what life has been like since I received my degree from Endicott College ten years ago…

It is hard to believe how quickly ten years can simply evaporate and I am sure that there are very few of you that were even close when you thought about where you would be as Dr. Wylie handed you your degree. I sure didn’t expect to be where I am today working as a PR Account Executive outside of Philadelphia focusing on the tech industry. I guess you never know where you will end up (especially for those of us who were English majors).

So, how did I get here? With my degree in hand I returned home to the Philadelphia suburbs, published some work in a few literary journals, magazines, anthologies, and pulled everything together in a short collection of poetry which was released by Pudding House Publications. Local readings followed including one at a local Barnes & Noble where I met my wife. After a year away from academia, I couldn’t help myself and soon enrolled in the MFA program at Rosemont College. While studying at Rosemont I was also pursuing a greater spiritual endeavor which led me to my conversion to Judaism a month before receiving my graduate degree.

Here is where things really started getting hectic. That same summer I was offered a Business Writer position at a PR firm in midtown Manhattan. By the fall of 2008 I was living in Brooklyn riding the F train to work every morning. By the spring I found myself in a difficult position as my Fibromyalgia was getting the better of me forcing me to take some time off before my wedding in June. My wife and I were married in Philadelphia in June of 2009 and spent over a week in Jerusalem with a couple of days in London tacked on at the end. It was a life changing trip that followed a life changing event.

Now living in Metuchen, New Jersey, and with my Fibromyalgia in mysterious remission, that fall I was faced with the reality of a diabetes diagnosis. It was a moment that made us assess what we really wanted to do with our lives. The following summer, after visiting Endicott and showing my wife the beauty of the campus, my wife and I started on another adventure that would take us back to the Middle East. A year later, in July 2011, my wife and I made Aliyah. However, some things aren’t meant to be and we soon after found ourselves returning back to the United State (although we will always be Israelis). This would later prove to be a 

2012 was a difficult year having moved back to the Philadelphia area, Bala Cynwyd to be exact, to be close to family and, by doing so, putting our careers on hold. It was tough working overnight shifts, living paycheck to paycheck, and watching our debt slowly climb but we made it through that tough time and we both found ourselves back on track in the professions we are truly passionate about by the fall of 2013. This tough time also afforded us the opportunity, the freedom if you will, to explore much of Pennsylvania as well as get involved in a few local community organizations. It was during this time when I became both a Rotarian (former President Elect) and a Mason (currently serving my second year as Secretary). And given the monotony of the hourly position I held, I was also able to start a daily blog, Time To Keep It Simple, to which I continue posting on a daily basis. Finally, it gave us the time to explore our roots as we worked to pull together the dispersed details of our family trees and finding out where we come from and exploring the details of each generation. Again, this is something that we still enjoy doing when we have the time.

There are a lot of other things that have happened in the 10 years since I walked through the door of Trexler Hall one final time but I have already written more than you were probably expecting to read (if you even made it this far). So I will end things rather simply. Today, my wife and I are doing our best to enjoy every minute that we have with our eight month old son. We live a bit further from the city than our previous places of residence, but we are still close enough to see our families on a regular basis. We are busy, sometimes too much so, but we are happy. It has been a busy decade but I am sure it will pale in comparison to the decade that is unfolding before us.

Sunday Search: Virginia Cemeteries

A while back I drove around to the some of the local cemeteries to find some family members that have been forgotten as well as to visit some that we just hadn’t seen in a while. Actually, it was the first time that I can remember visiting any of them. It is with this trip still fresh in my mind (even two years later) that I decided to do the same thing, this time in Virginia.

The day after the reunion, we made our way to Eagle Rock and explored the place where my family once lived. After walking around the small town for a little while, we took my great uncle up on his offer to lead us to one of the cemeteries in the area. After a few turns down gravel roads…

…and a couple of stops to regroup and figure out where we were going we finally made it to Shiloh Cemetery. Here we found my three times great grandmother, Francis Redcross (Beverly) resting beside her son…

…as well as one of her daughters, Mary Jane Redcross (Duke), and her family just a few yards away.

Unfortunately, we are still unable to find my three times great grandfather, Paulus Redcross, who passed long before his wife.

After Shiloh we were on our own but fortunately, this time, knew exactly where we needed to go to find Forest Grove Baptist Church. When we arrived services were just coming to an end at the small church and, not surprisingly, we found a few relatives standing outside the doors talking amongst themselves. After a couple brief conversations, we headed back and began walking round finding that we were related to nearly every other person, in one way or another, throughout the cemetery.

In the back right of the granite field, under a large tree, we found my great great grandparents, Roy and Sallie (Clapsaddle) Teaford.

I have seen their headstones in pictures before but, as many of you know, it is a completely different experience seeing them with your own eyes. From this corner of the cemetery we slowly walked back toward the church until we found two more of my great great grandparents, Nicholas and Laura (Redcross) Love.

It was especially moving since now I have been able to visit, between all the cemeteries that I have visited, I have been able to visit four generations of my family. My grandparents and great grandparents in Pennsylvania and now my great great grandparents and great great great grandmother today. However, what struck me most about the day was when we turned around just before leaving and I was able to see all four great great grandparents in one peaceful picture.

The following day, after our morning spelunking, we stopped by another cemetery in an attempt to find my great great grandfather’s first wife. After even more dirt and gravel roads than the previous day, we were finally able to find Bethel Church tucked back into the woods on a one way road.

The cemetery was just on the other side of the small creek where my dad and I walked up and down every aisle. In the end, much like Leverington Cemetery, we couldn’t find her name or family anywhere among the headstones that were still visible and legible.

This one is going to take some more work. Hopefully this time the church has some accurate records.

A couple of days later, as I previously wrote about, we visited the last cemetery of our trip while atop of Bear Mountain in Amherst County. While we were only able to find the names of a couple generations, I am certain that we were in the presence of many more generations at the Monacan Burial Ground. It took some effort, much more than the first time we visited a few cemeteries, but it was well worth the time, effort, and emotions. I am glad that we took the time to visit while in Virginia.

Sometimes You Can Feel A Place

 

The winding roads through the mountains and into Amherst County gave me the time to reflect on both all that we have seen thus far in our trip and also prepare for our next experience at the Monacan Indian Museum. I had called the museum during our drive through Lynchburg earlier in the morning so they knew that we were on our way… the most recent, as it turns out when looking at the sign in log, of a long list of family members that made the drive over the past week. Driving up to the small collection of buildings on Bear Mountain I could feel the connection with the place and the people there… it really is an indescribable feeling.

We were greeted warmly upon our arrival and after paying the modest admission fee we were shown to the next room where we watched a brief video about the history of our people. Given her recent passing, hearing Chief Sharon Bryant’s voice was both soothing knowing that her legacy lives on and also heartbreaking knowing all that she would have been able to accomplish if given more time. For those of you who have yet to view the video I have included it below and I encourage you to watch.

Upon the conclusion of the movie, we all got up and walked into the next room to learn as much as we could during our visit. Holding my son as I walked in, I was motivated even more to find the documents and information needed to become a member of the Monacan Nation. While looking around I was able to find a few more pieces of information for my research and I was able to speak with the woman who originally greeted us about what needed to be done (again, more about that later). Here are some of the pictured some the small but significant museum.
 

 

 

Even though the museum only consisted of three rooms we spent well over an hour looking around, talking, and learning about this part of our family history and heritage. After making sure it was okay to walk around and take pictures, we went next door to the Indian Mission School.
 

Given the years that it was used there is a good possibility that there were a few ancestors that received their education within those walls. It is amazing to think that the school was used until the 1960’s.
 

From within that small school house, one can look out the window and see the Episcopal Church just across a small creek.
 

A central part of the community, we walked over to the church to take a closer look…
 

…and when we turned the corner and approached the front entrance, a kaleidoscope of butterflies floated across the bridge laced clearing between the buildings…

 

…and converged on the flowering bushed in front of us.

 

As we walked away, the butterflies scattered into the wind. I am not usually one to think along these lines but I felt at that moment that was the way our ancestors were welcoming us back. It didn’t look or feel as though it was just a coincidence.  

Feeling both drained and energized, we got back in the car and drove up the road to another place I had only seen in pictures. Thankfully, we noticed the small sign along the side of the road and just a few minutes later I found myself standing in front of the final resting place for many of my ancestors. Within the lines of the single headstone at the front of the cemetery, many of my family surnames can be found… Redcross, Terry, Beverly, and Johns.

 

Behind this headstone are the graves marked with anonymous stones. All recognized as individuals but buried as a people.

 

It was the most moving part of the journey and gave me a lot to think about as we drove back through the mountains. Hopefully the next time I am able to visit will be as a member of the tribe and not just as a visitor.