Tough Times

As I have gotten older, I have a new appreciation for my relatives who I studied as they aged. There were many of them; because I came from the stock of two very old and established eastern NC families. They all lived long, eventful lives. Having returned from the decadence and tom-foolery of academia I now realize that these ancient relatives taught me more from their life experiences than could be gained from the stacks of many libraries. Our older relatives studied all the volumes available to them and mixed with their common sense produced wisdom which is sorely needed in these days of academic depravity and neutrality. There were doctors, lawyers, teachers, farmers in my family household of faith who had already forgotten more than today's professionals know. The well-paid agricultural extension agents were amazed to learn about farming operations from my father or the grafting of fruit trees from my grandfather.

I was often astounded to hear an aunt who had never had a facial or manicure give me a Bible reference, quote it exactly, and say, “That is the answer to your question, that will solve your problem.”

Those who are not ashamed of God will find that He is not ashamed of them, ever ready to pour out His abundant mercy. Why not enjoy all He has to offer? Get over pretension. The very hairs on your head are numbered. (Matthew 10:30)

Aunt Sarah was a most remarkable woman, a young girl while her father was away fighting in the Civil War. Dying at age 100, around 1958, she and my grandmother would talk about how the Yankees came down the road plundering and burning. She talked about their beautiful horses, their shining swords. She was too young to lead the cows and the mules way down into the swamps like the older boys and girls to keep the Yankees from stealing them. But they could talk about putting food into washtubs and hiding the tubs in wells which were concealed, leaving enough pork meat in the smokehouse and chickens in the chicken house so the Yankees would go ahead and steal those things along with corn and hay, and move on in their march to the sea. (Sherman's march to the sea, 1864)

Recently, the young pastor of the great family church built in 1874, visited me and questioned me about many historical facts involving the church and community. He said, “There is a portrait of an old man hanging in the church office. Do you know who he is?” I said, “I remember the day that Aunt Sarah gave a picture of Reverend Worley to a traveling photographer, going through the community and she paid him to reproduce the small picture into a large frame with the bubble glass.” The picture has been hanging in the church ever since. He was one of the first pastors of the church and rode 30 miles on horseback to preach. Imagine one of today's pansied procurers riding a horse or anything else to preach. We have limousine pastors just as we have limousine politicians. Aunt Sarah's husband, who had inherited a large part of my great grandfather's estate, died young. He is buried in the old family cemetery with many of my great, great grandparents, aunts and uncles, Spanish flu and Civil War victims. At that time, a widow only received a child's share of an estate. Her husband's estate was divided between her four children. She lived a month at a time with each child, all prominent and wealthy relatives. Knowing her absolute devotion to the church, where she always sat on the front pew, they made sure she was always in attendance.

She was known far and wide in all denominational circles. All her grandchildren, leaving the area, from advanced education and prominent marriages hardly knew her. I was at her funeral and before her burial next to her husband in the ancient cemetery one of her “stuck up” granddaughter's who I believe had never spoken to anyone in my personal family, insisted that the casket be opened at the grave, so her two daughters (They did not arrive in time for the funeral) could see the great grandmother they had never seen before. I thought then, as now, how tragic, that with all the technology and wealth the world had provided this saintly woman's grandchildren and great grandchildren they did not know her. I remembered, that on one occasion, one of my relatives had recorded Aunt Sarah discussing her life, her problems after her husband's early death and her memories from the Civil War to World War II. I heard this tape replayed one time. So, I know it did exist. How tragic that this family does not have this memory in their possession. Photographs, letters, even tapes are lost when family members die and their possessions are scattered by antique dealers or even yard sales.

As an example, my next door neighbor, Bill, died with not one relative at his memorial service. The family heirlooms which he prized including his great, great grandfather's musket and many other items were dispersed by the trust department of a local bank to the highest bidder.

In these tough times, when the unemployment rate is higher than it has been since the great depression, when accumulated wealth has decreased in value, when wise people are taking time to validate their lives, and evaluate their “things”, it is good to remember that in a history of a free people and a free country, there have been tough times before. On the farm, during times of drought we found the plants would send their roots down much deeper seeking moisture. When the rains did come, and they always do, the plants grew with renewed vigor. This is a good time to send our roots down in remembrance of the family and those around us, who have helped us get this far. For those of us who are Christian, it is a good time for remembrance (at the Lord's table with His holy elements) of what He has done for us and regardless of how bad things get in this life. Tough times here, only mean thrills there.