An Off Day Not A Day Off

Things seemed to be a little off this morning. After getting a late start to the day due to an early morning meeting and before heading off to work, I meandered over to our local polling location to submit my annual votes. It is an off year so by the time I got there I was only number 42 for the day. What caught me off guard a bit, besides the parking situation at the church, was the fact that this was the first time that I had to fill out a paper ballot in my life. Sitting in the partitioned booth, it felt like I was taking the SATs again.

That experience has pretty much summed up this whole election cycle so far this year. Things are getting done and the positions are being stated but the format seems a little different and we are having to work a little bit more to find what we are looking for. After scanning the entire paper, front and back, there wasn’t anything or anyone that would change my mind which left me only having to fill in one circle in order to complete my ballot.

Honestly, at this point, I don’t expect things to be much different next year. While I keep looking at the various positions on both primaries, it is pretty clear where my vote will be cast. Well, to a certain extent anyway. As was clear in the debates last week, it is still a crowded field with more viable candidates than I can recall ever taking the stage at one time. There are a few that I would like to see continue, others I would prefer drop out, and a couple that have really piqued my interest. At least that is my perspective on the Republican side… there really isn’t anyone that I could even come close to even feigning support for on the other ticket.

While this may be an off year, the next election is one that will make a huge difference in this country… hopefully for the better. Now that this day is coming to an end, we should really see the campaigns taken to another level over the next couple of months. And as the field thins, we should get a much better sense of who is the right person for the job, who can lead this country, and who truly has our best interests in mind. So buckle up and get ready for the ride.

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.

Sunday Search: Our Towns

With the reunion having concluded yesterday, we filled Sunday with a variety of stops and places that I wanted to see during our extended vacation in Virginia. We filled much of our morning with a few trips to some local cemeteries but that is a post for another day. This post is about where our family lived both in the early part of the 20^th and latter part of the 19^th century.

Before moving up to Pennsylvania, my grandfather was born and raised in Eagle Rock, Virginia. This is where all of my great aunts and uncles were born as well. I guess you could say that it all started at the Eagle Rock Baptist Church where my great grandparents, Harry Teaford and Nettie Love, were married in 1917. For the first time, I was able to see the church thanks to my great uncle serving as our tour guide for the morning.

Of course, before we received this guidance, we were left on our own to explore the small town. While it is clear that it was once a nice little mountain community, the town seems to have never recovered from the depression that drove my family north.

While the train station still looks like it is in good working order…

…the car dealership has obviously be lacking that new leather smell for some time.

This is obviously not a touristy type stop but it where we come from and it is the first time that I have been able to walk the streets and probably the first time that my father had been there in about 50 years. While pictures and documents make up much of work in genealogy, places are also an important part of the process. Walking the same streets and seeing the surrounding mountains gave me a much better understanding of the generations of my family that called this small town home.

Later in the day we met up with a cousin in Fincastle (as well as my aunt and uncle who also joined us for the afternoon). Surprisingly, we were the only ones that took her up on her offer yesterday for a tour of the capital of Botetourt County. Many of our family documents can be found in this building so I was looking forward to finding out a little more about the town itself. We all convened at the local museum and proceeded to walk the town as the humidity continued to rise.

Just in front of the museum was the county courthouse…

…which served as the gateway to the west when this now modest county extended far beyond its current boundaries and deep into the Midwest. It is because of this distinction that the courthouse is recognized for its place in the Lewis & Clark Expedition.

From the courthouse we walked up and down the main and back streets of Fincastle…

…passing numerous historic sites and old houses…

…and quite a few churches including the one below which dates back to before the Revolutionary War.

The town tour ended where it began and our generous host concluded the afternoon with a walk through the museum. Of course, the path around the building lead us directly to the research room where we couldn’t help but pour through a few of the volumes stacked on the shelves. While we didn’t uncover much, it was nice to be back in the stacks sifting through all of the names. And, obviously, it was once again nice to have my feet on the same soil and stones that were once walked by many in my family decades ago.