I got this from another list and thought you might enjoy reading it.
Margie R. Pearce
URL:
www.angelfire.com/la/ancestors
-----Original Message-----
From: RHollis123(a)aol.com <RHollis123(a)aol.com>
To: MSTIPPAH-L(a)rootsweb.com <MSTIPPAH-L(a)rootsweb.com>
Date: Wednesday, November 11, 1998 12:53 AM
Subject: Our Ancestors....How Much We Love Them!
Giving Thanks:
Our Ancestors....How Much We Love Them!
While doing research on my family lines, I have come to notice the age
of the people of this country. The life span seemed to be fairly short.
The majority of the people that I see as heads of the household are from
23 to 45. There are very few in their 60's and 70's. During the ten to
twelve years before the Civil War our country seemed to be what we
consider today as "young adults" as head of a household. Before that
the lives of these people were extremely busy with land, farming and
raising their families and this was taking it's toll on the young men
and women of that time because it was unbearably hard work for the
farmers and their families.
The people that were able to buy land and invest and be active in the
business
end of society were marking off their days on this earth as was the
farmer
and
his wife were without even knowing it. Life itself was taking
it's toll of
these bright, diligent, energetic people. They, for the most part would
all be dead before they reached the age of 50.
For an eager nation to grow it took many miles of road, tunnels, ore,
railroads, food, crops for clothing, livestock, trees, oil and so many
other
natural resources and various occupations to supply the needs of
it's
people.
They lived hard lives, even if it was with a suit of clothes and a
tie,
shirts
with fancy cuffs and collars or rough-woven durable fabric for the
laborers
of various trades and livelyhoods, the pace was hard and fast and
worrisome. Most of those that you see listed in the census reports in
their 60's, 70's or 80's through the 1860 census, were just stronger,
healthier and blessed with longer lives.
After the Civil War there were fewer young men on the census reports.
Most were in their 40s and 50s, some maimed, some crippled, some blind
and many that were strong and healthy in 1861, were spent in the few
years that the war lasted. They came home old men in the conditions of
their bodies and many never regained their health to support their
families by being able to carry the whole load of maintaining their farms
or
trades. The sons of those men learned early how to till and weed the
ground,
when to harvest, how to manage the few dollars they had or how to
resent
themselves to borrow on next year's crop before they were 18 years old.
The tradesmen had an advantage over the farmer when it came to his sons
being
able to carry on their work, crafty small hands learned quickly the
art of
making clothes, shoes and sewing the leathers for boots, belts, vests,
saddles
etc. before they were 12. But the farmer and the blacksmith and the
waggoneer
and the lumberman had to hire help until their sons were strong enough
to
maintain the balance of the load for their fathers. It was too hard for an
8
year old to lift wheels, fell trees, use an anvil, and control the
horses
and oxen and mules that were needed for those jobs. However, their
little minds of boys 5 and 6 years old when their fathers came home from
the war were keen and open and eager to learn. And learn they did, just as
fast and furiously as they could, and they did what they could until their
bodies caught up to their mental experience and were able to put all their
knowledge into practice.
Those young boys that had to learn from their older family members;
uncles, cousins, grandparents if they were still there for them, those were
the ones that had the hardest challenge.....their father's didn't come
home,
their mother's couldn't hold up under the strain and the
daughters had to
pitch in and learn the art of making bread, churning, cooking, cleaning,
washing, ironing, sewing...whatever it took to be there beside their
brother
or brothers if they were lucky enough to have them and keep the
family
together and pushing on and on and on.
These wonderful people are our ancestors. These blessed, faithful, loving,
and yes, some have the occasional traits of hot tempered, sweaty, foul
mouthed...but they are our ancestors. These strong, weak, frail,
stubborn,
rough skinned, white skinned, dark skinned, pampered or leathery
people are
our ancestors. I am so proud of them. I love them so much. I wish I could
have known each and every one of them, touched them, listened to
them.....just
stood in their shadow for a few minutes because I'll guarantee you
one
thing,
those shadows would have brought me to my knees knowing how much it
covered
and what it meant to be a part of their family.
I have stood and am now standing on their land. I have seen and touched
their trees and their homes. I have smelled their old pipes and snuff
jars, their handbags, powder boxes and handkerchiefs. I have felt their
old pocket watches, their knives, dishes, tools, jewelry, combs and
brushes. I have tried my best to take in what is left of their presence
and
there is one thing that makes me cry with joy that I can hold it in my
hand
and smell the sweet smell of the years everytime I open or caress it, it
smells of leather and ink and age, but it's never dusty or used up....it's
always there with warmth and peace and love....it's their Bible. The one
piece of their lives that reaches generation after generation and is more
loved each time it's given to the next, it's the one part of them that they
couldn't live without,
they couldn't read it, most of them, but it was there and they knew what
it was saying, they had learned that through the years from their parents
and
their parents before them. Aren't ancestors marvelous. They make
us
who we are; a mixture of proof that they had made their mark on the land
and it can never be erased. Thanksgiving, yes I give thanks.....everyday.
Written at Smithville, OK., July 1996 where my Dad was born.
Lou Ann Phillips Lunsford