|
knoxcotn-digest Sunday, July 2 2000 Volume 01 : Number 102
---------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Wed, 28 Jun 2000 15:50:23 -0400 From: "East Tennessee Historical Society" <eths@east-tennessee-history.org> Subject: [KnoxCoTN] Press Release: History Camp Teaches Kids to Dig for Their Roots The East Tennessee Historical Society is teaching children how to climb the family tree. Kids in grades four through eight will receive hands-on experience in studying their family history. The day camp, held at the ETHS headquarters in downtown Knoxville (600 Market Street), will be held July 10-13, 2000. "This camp gives parents and grandparents the opportunity to introduce children to American history through the eyes of their ancestors," said Lisa Oakley, ETHS curator of education. "In the camp, kids will receive first-hand instruction from a variety of experts and learn skills such as interviewing older relatives." Children attending the camp will receive unique behind-the-scenes access to the ETHS Museum, the Knox County Archives, and the McClung Historical Collection. Camp activities will include museum tours, instruction on library use, instruction on child-friendly internet research, and more. Camp will be held from 9 a.m. to 12:30 p.m. each day at the East Tennessee Historical Society, 600 Market Street, Knoxville. Deadline for registration is July 6, 2000. There is a $25 registration fee per child. Fees include all materials and a daily snack. To register for the camp, please call ETHS at 865-215-8824. East Tennessee Historical Society P.O. Box 1629 Knoxville, TN 37901-1629 www.east-tennessee-history.org ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 28 Jun 2000 21:05:57 EDT From: PeeWee1025@aol.com Subject: [KnoxCoTN] (no subject) subscribe ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 29 Jun 2000 10:16:23 -0700 From: "Billie R. McNamara" <knox@tngenweb.org> Subject: [KnoxCoTN] US Migration paths Thanks to cybersleuth-of-the-day, Rose-Anne Cunningham-Bray, for sending me this URL. It's primarily related to migrations of members of the Brethren/Dunker faith, but the capsulized migration trail data for most of the Eastern and Midwestern US is really great. I haven't studied it in detail, but my brief review of the sections I'm familiar with didn't find anything in error. http://www.cob-net.org/docs/brethrenlife_migrations.htm ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 29 Jun 2000 10:52:04 -0700 From: "Billie R. McNamara" <knox@tngenweb.org> Subject: [KnoxCoTN] Quote of the day This was in the most-recent Roots Users Group of Arlington newsletter. Since my mama's shop is called "The Packrat's Nest" (and I completely agree with this quote <g>), I was particularly amused: Packrats are hard to live with, but they make wonderful ancestors. ------------------------------ Date: Sun, 02 Jul 2000 11:41:33 -0700 From: "Billie R. McNamara" <knox@tngenweb.org> Subject: [KnoxCoTN] 16 June 2000: Sunday Afternoon Rocking "Here Lies Old Joe's Dog" (from the "Sunday Afternoon Rocking" series) Afternoon All, "Here lies Old Joe's Dog". That is the simple inscription on a tombstone nestled deep in the heart of Tennessee, and at least a hundred years old. "Old Joe's Dog"...only that and nothing more. One pauses to wonder who Old Joe was, what the dog's name was, and why, if it was so important to someone a stone mark the spot of a faithful companion, that the owner's name be inscribed, rather than the dog's. I have wondered long about that, and in my heart I believe I have arrived at the answer, although I fully admit to a vivid imagination! <smile> It may not be so, but seems plausible to me. If Old Joe, who ever that man might have been (but I suspect a beloved character of some age in the community) had a faithful companion (as undoubtedly he did, if this stone is to be believed), the two must have been a common sight trudging along dusty roads throughout a rural community, greeting folks and passing the time of day. It must have been that Joe had no need of a surname, simply the words "Old Joe" would have been how folks would have known him. And they would have known that where Joe went, so trotting along beside him was a dog of equally indeterminable age and congenial nature. The two would have been inseparable, exploring the world in the slow plodding way of the aged, and drawing warm smiles from those who simply expected them to "always be there" as they had seemingly "always been". But of course, in the way of all living elements that make a community what it is, this too would pass. One day Joe would draw his last breath, and a grieving mongrel of indeterminable origin other than he was "Joe's dog" would have been taken pity upon and thrown scraps as he plodded throughout the neighborhood searching for a lost master. Perhaps "Old Joe's Dog" did not last so very long when his master was gone, grieving in the typical way that we see older pets who have lost their masters, and someone, remembering with fondness how the two walked side by side together, buried the dog and placed the rough stone inscribed "Old Joe's Dog". I don't know that this story is so, but it seems quite plausible to me to imagine it did, and it accounts for the odd identification on the stone that gives us no clue what name the dog answered to. Not so long ago, I became the owner of a dog, and entered upon quite a journey of discovery and tolerance. What was so difficult for me to understand once upon a time is fully plausible now. Let anyone mess with my dog, and they are going to mess with me! <smile> I have never known quite so much exuberance and zest for the moment, quite so much unequivocal adoration, quite so much loyalty as I have seen in this pup. This pup tolerates my "bad hair days" and loves me just the same. She asks for nothing more than affection, food, a little playtime and in return gives me far far more than one could expect from most humans. Not big enough to be a protector she nevertheless THINKS she is, and is a watchdog extraordinaire. Unable to comprehend the words "I will be right back", she sits watching eagerly in the window until my return and greets me as if I had been gone for weeks rather than a few hours. The words "man's best friend" have new meaning and an eight pound puppy has taught me a great deal about life, about myself, and about appreciation of friendship in general. Yes, I fully understand pet owners now...and I fully understand how it must have been for "Old Joe" and his dog. Indeed I quite understand how a family begins to get their hearts entangled, and how a four legged companion becomes another family member. Those "other family members" are sprinkled throughout our family trees, and the legends and memories of them survive along with stories of our ancestors, our cousins, our homes. When I envision "down home" I cannot imagine it without Old Ring lounging under a tree in the backyard and Poochie trotting out to greet visitors at the gate. Although I remember my father as primarily stern and unemotional, the story of a broken hearted young boy burying his dog in his mother's garden with a glass topped coffin is one often repeated by his sisters. I cannot envision my maternal grandfather without his little dog, Billy, trotting along at his side. Billy was as old in dog years as my grandfather was in human ones, and when he lost his master he began to grieve. His one spark of life was the day he was taken to the cemetery where his master was buried (and which he had never visited before). My grandmother says that day, Billy sprang to life, jumped from the car, and ran amidst the tombstones until he found on his own, my grandfather's grave and lay down upon it. I have no reason to doubt the story she told, and indeed, tend to believe that these gentle creatures with such single-minded and fierce loyalty may well have "another way of knowing". Not long after, Billy died as well, as the family believes, "grieved himself to death". No doubt, many of you, as well, have such stories of beloved pets, perhaps not human, but "family members" all the same. Today is a tribute to the "other family members", the furry companions that walked beside our ancestors. Perhaps those companions were as important in their status as humans, guarding and watching for danger and predators. Perhaps one eased the loneliness of a trapper, or made harsh days happier with her antics. Perhaps one curled beside a sick master, licking a hand to send the message that she knew "all was not well". No doubt "man's best friend" has always grieved the loss of a master, and a master has always grieved the loss of a "best friend". And no doubt there is a very good reason why someone once upon a time, a very long time ago, in deference to fond memories and respect for a friendship, felt the need to inscribe a simple stone with the words "Here Lies Old Joe's Dog". just a thought, jan Copyright ©2000JanPhilpot .________________________________________________ (Note: Afternoon Rocking messages are meant to be passed on, meant to be shared...simply share as written without alterations...and in entirety. Thanks, jan) Sunday Afternoon Rocking columns are distributed weekly on the list Sunday Rocking. This is not a "reply to" list, and normally only one message per week will come across it, that being the column. To subscribe send email to Sundayrocking-subscribe@egroups.com _________________________________________________
- ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Free Conference Calling with Firetalk! Host your next egroup meeting live on Firetalk. Click here! http://click.egroups.com/1/5478/9/_/409757/_/961207309/ - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Comments may be sent to listowner and author of Sunday Afternoon Rocking columns at unicorn@sun-spot.com To Unsubscribe, send a blank message to: sundayrocking-unsubscribe@eGroups.com ------------------------------ Date: Sun, 02 Jul 2000 11:34:55 -0700 From: "Billie R. McNamara" <knox@tngenweb.org> Subject: [KnoxCoTN] Downloadable genealogy forms I found this site and thought it was worth sharing. They have some forms that I haven't seen available elsewhere. http://www.familytreemagazine.com/forms/download.html ------------------------------ Date: Sun, 02 Jul 2000 11:41:15 -0700 From: "Billie R. McNamara" <knox@tngenweb.org> Subject: [KnoxCoTN] 02 July 2000: Sunday Afternoon Rocking "Evolution of a Trunk" (from the Sunday Afternoon Rocking series) Afternoon All, Long ago, when I was a little girl, my parents bought an old dome lidded trunk at an auction. They cleaned it up, painted it up, and put it to practical use as a little girl's toy chest. One day, as a young wife with a love of tradition, I realized the antique value of it and dug it out to be a part of my everyday surroundings again. And a later day still, I began to realize some other value, and began to realize that it was after all, simply another tool to provoke thought.... 1852 Papa brought two surprises for me today. I have never seen him as he is these days, and it is both a source of joy and a source of pain. I wish I had known this side of him before now, and it seems very sad that my stern gruff father is letting me finally see his softness at the very time I will soon bid him good bye. Never would he let me wear a red ribbon in my hair and frowned on such as frivolous. Today he bid me hold out my hand and in it he placed a red ribbon. I gasped with both pleasure and surprise and thought I caught just a glimpse of something shining in his eyes before he turned away. He went out to the wagon then and hauled in a trunk. A beautiful domed trunk with flowers embossed in the tin...and said simply "you'll be needing this", and walked away. Tomorrow I will pack my things in the trunk, that even has a special tray for my bonnets. I will tuck away the memory locket Maranda has given me there too. How I will miss my sister! And two days hence I will leave my home, my father, my sister, and my state with William...to be his bride. 1902 Today I packed away those things of Mama's I could not bear to let go. I packed them away in that old round topped trunk she always told me her papa gave her back in Illinois just before she was to marry. I could not bear to get rid of that either, she loved it so, and today I had John carry it up to the attic out of the way. I packed away the dress she said she married in and traveled in all on the same day, and the locket with the braided hair of her beloved sister encased inside. Later perhaps I will climb those stairs now and then and open the trunk and when I see her things and smell the scent of them, for just a moment it might be a bit like having a visit with Mama again... 1937 Charles and I have been most of the week cleaning out Mother's house. It has been heartbreaking to sell her things but I have no way to take them back with me, and the most of them simply are not things I can really use anyway. Charles said I must be very selective about what I keep as we simply cannot afford to ship a great deal, but I did decide to keep that old trunk that always sat up in the attic. I threw out the ratty moth eaten clothing in it, and the books I gave to the library there in town. There were a few odds and ends of jewelry but I don't believe they were of any value and I gave those away as well, except of course for that dreadful bit of braided hair encased in a locket! I have no clue why such a thing would ever have been worn but that I threw away along with those faded old letters tied in the nastiest old red ribbon! Charles is right...Mother was a dreadful pack rat. The trunk however does have possibilities and would make for good storage. I got to thinking that perhaps with a bit of paint, Elizabeth might like to have this as a hope chest, and if not, well I suppose I can store winter sweaters in it. 1959 Today we went to an auction at a very old house and Mommy and Daddy bought me something! I was not at all sure what they wanted it for and never saw anything quite like it but they said it was for me. It is a trunk with a pretty curved top on it. They said it would be my toy box now and Daddy drilled a big round hole in the back of it. He said he knew that I had more sense, but that one of my friends might think it fun to hide inside and that would never do, so if they were so silly at least they could breathe until someone managed to get them out. There was even a little shelf that sat inside on the top of rest of the trunk and I wanted to keep it but Daddy said it would be too much trouble to mend, and so he threw that away. Mommy sat the trunk outside on the picnic table and painted it a pretty blue just the shade of a robin's egg. I got to pick out the color myself! She started to peel the paper inside and was going to put new wallpaper there instead, but I talked her out of that one. There is a picture just inside the top of two children in very old fashioned clothing sledding down a hill, and I did not want the picture ruined even if it is yellowed and peeling. 1982 It is amazing how I have taken the things I grew up with for granted for so long, and now what treasures they are! Today I dug deep in the storage closet at my parents' house until I managed finally to unearth that old trunk that was my toy box! What possibilities it has! I can hardly wait to strip that old blue paint off of it and see what it looks like when it is cleaned up and restored. I am so thrilled that the paper lining inside is intact! It will look perfect in a corner of my family room, and I will store my children's baby clothes and school momentos there. 2000 One day before long I will begin to think which child should receive which treasure...and this will be no easy task. So many stories, so much family history...and which would appreciate, would see beyond the objects to an underlying meaning, a reason, understand roots? Sometimes I wonder over the treasures that "happened" into our family too...that really were a story before our own. Take that old trunk for example. It has been mine for nearly half a century now. Well I remember the day when I had both my mother and father, and they were so proud to buy me the trunk and so pleased to fix it especially for a little girl's needs and whims. And when I was a young mother I stored baby clothes in it, and packed away little stories my children wrote in school. But before that? I do not know. A hundred years before that it began with someone else's story and somewhere in the world today is a person who if I only knew, and he or she only knew...would treasure that trunk even more for roots far deeper than a little girl's toy chest or a receptacle for a young mother's momentos. But who did it belong to? And where are the descendents now? No way to know of course...and I wonder...how many of my own family's roots escaped us, are residing now in an antique mall or a museum, are gracing a stranger's home? No way to know of course... just a thought, jan Copyright ©2000JanPhilpot .________________________________________________ (Note: Afternoon Rocking messages are meant to be passed on, meant to be shared...simply share as written without alterations...and in entirety. Thanks, jan) Sunday Afternoon Rocking columns are distributed weekly on the list Sunday Rocking. This is not a "reply to" list, and normally only one message per week will come across it, that being the column. To subscribe send email to Sundayrocking-subscribe@egroups.com _________________________________________________ Comments may be sent to listowner and author of Sunday Afternoon Rocking columns at unicorn@sun-spot.com To Unsubscribe, send a blank message to: sundayrocking-unsubscribe@eGroups.com ------------------------------ End of knoxcotn-digest V1 #102 ****************************** |