Red Owl Willow
A SCRIBE'S STORY

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A SCRIBE'S STORY
CIVIL WAR JOHN E WRIGHT
FAMILY PHOTO'S

The storytellers,

We are the chosen ones,

My feelings are in each family there is

One who seems called to find the Ancestors?

To put flesh on their bones and make them live again,

To tell of their family story and to feel that somehow

They know and approve,

 

To me, doing genealogy is not a cold gathering facts but, instead

Breathing life into all who have gone before,

We are the storytellers of the tribe.

All tribes have one or two or even three,

We have been called as it were by our very ascents of our being,

Those who have gone before cry out to us,

Tell our story remember who we were,

In finding them, we somehow find ourselves.

How many graves have i stood before, i have lost count,

How many times have i told the Ancestors you have a wonderful family?

You would be proud of us,

How many times have i walked up to a grave and felt somehow there was

Love there for me, i cannot say,

It goes beyond just Documenting facts our endless hours of search.

It goes to who I am. And why do i do the things I do?

I am a storyteller passed down from my grandfather Elisha Jack Wright,

Born To James Thomas Wright And Mary Ann Pruitt in Missouri 1892,

It goes to seeing a cemetery about to be lost forever to weeds and indifference

And saying I cant let this happen, We need to stand United and take care of our dead,

The bones here are bones of my bones and flesh of my flesh,

It goes to doing something about it.

It goes to pride in what our Ancestors were able to accomplish,

How they contributed to what we are today,

 

It goes to respecting their hardships and losses. Their giving in or

Giving up, their resoluteness to go on and build a life for their family,

It goes to deep pride that they fought to make and keep us a Natshions.

It goes to a deep and immense understanding that they were doing it for us.

That we might be born who we are .To be Born in A world of Pride and safety and to be Free.

That we might remember them,

So we do with love and caring and scribing each fact of their Existence Each trail we push on, each censers record we search,

Because we are them and they are us.

So, as a scribe called, this generation (Della JoAnn McGinnis) I tell the story of our family history.

IT is up to the next. One called in our generation to answer the call

And take their place in the long line of family storytellers.

For I have done the ground work for the start of the new scribe,

That is why i do my family genealogy, and that is what calls

Those young and old to step up and put flesh on those bones.

 

I know you will all endeavor to

Live up to their expectations of you

You have with in you the blood of great pioneer stock.

From the labors of your ancestors came this land we call home.

AMERICA.

 

 

Wright family lines.

http://www.tribalpages.com/tribes/delladarnell

 

Wright family lines.

http://delladarnell.accessgenealogy.com

 

 

Looking For Family? Look here Hillside 9

http://greenrolling.tripod.com/

 

 

2200 Surnames to look though

http://www.tribalpages.com/tribes/scoreshell

 

 

WELCOME

 

 http://hometown.aol.com/delladarnell/myhomepage/index.html

 

 

 

 

 

atb_06liberty.jpg

From all walks of life we came

With open arms she embraced us,

Gave us Freedom to live life to it is fullest

To practice and worship the religions we choose

With out fear of prosecutions

 She stood weathered and worn

Like a mother embracing her first born,

In a country not like our own,

She is our symbol of freedom

Within the hearts of our ancestors

She welcomed them to her native lands.

From all walks of life we came

With open arms she embraced us,

Gave us Freedom to live life to it is fullest

To practice and worship the religions we choose

With out fear of prosecutions

 She stood weathered and worn

Like a mother embracing her first born,

In a country not like our own,

She is our symbol of freedom

Within the hearts of our ancestors

She welcomed them to her native lands.
With love and liberty she offered them her hand.
written bye Joann McGinnis