Mom and I went to Fredonia and environs yesterday on the Annual Ancestor Hunt. Funny thing, they were just where we left them last year. At Farmington Cemetery we found Grandma Pearl and Grandad Troy.
My great grandparents, Mamaw & Dada were still hanging out at High Prairie Cemetery.
The Denneys are there also, and here is Grandma with her great-grandparents, my great-great grandparents.
The yellow iris were blooming beautifully, as they are in both my garden and Mom's. We have that dead guy, Stevens, to thank for those lovely additions to our gardens. The oldfashioned pink rose was also in fine form, but I didn't get a photo of it.
On to the Fredonia Cemetery where we stopped for a brief chat with Alvin R. and Ellie, my great-grandparents. He fought in the Civil War, you know. Doesn't that seem weird? Three generations back from me and we're at the Civil War. Must mean I'm kind of old!
Grandma took a little rest on her final resting place. It seemed photo-worthy.
The wind was nearly ferocious, but it certainly made the flags stand out. The photo doesn't really do it justice, but the cemetery was just beautiful with hundreds of flags lining each of the roads.
And of course, we had to go find Grandpa's flag. He was the last one on the front row this year. Moving back each year. I'm sure there will be sufficient deaths in the A thru Bu's that his flag will be around the corner next year.
The flag on top of the mound was standing out proudly in the wind also.
We DO all turn into our mothers in some ways. I find that the rounds to the cemeteries are more meaningful each year. Judi and I will be the fourth generation in our family to be buried in the Fredonia Cemetery. I like the notion of history and lineage. It gives me some sort of warm fuzzy comfort.
My great grandparents, Mamaw & Dada were still hanging out at High Prairie Cemetery.
The Denneys are there also, and here is Grandma with her great-grandparents, my great-great grandparents.
The yellow iris were blooming beautifully, as they are in both my garden and Mom's. We have that dead guy, Stevens, to thank for those lovely additions to our gardens. The oldfashioned pink rose was also in fine form, but I didn't get a photo of it.
On to the Fredonia Cemetery where we stopped for a brief chat with Alvin R. and Ellie, my great-grandparents. He fought in the Civil War, you know. Doesn't that seem weird? Three generations back from me and we're at the Civil War. Must mean I'm kind of old!
Grandma took a little rest on her final resting place. It seemed photo-worthy.
The wind was nearly ferocious, but it certainly made the flags stand out. The photo doesn't really do it justice, but the cemetery was just beautiful with hundreds of flags lining each of the roads.
And of course, we had to go find Grandpa's flag. He was the last one on the front row this year. Moving back each year. I'm sure there will be sufficient deaths in the A thru Bu's that his flag will be around the corner next year.
The flag on top of the mound was standing out proudly in the wind also.
We DO all turn into our mothers in some ways. I find that the rounds to the cemeteries are more meaningful each year. Judi and I will be the fourth generation in our family to be buried in the Fredonia Cemetery. I like the notion of history and lineage. It gives me some sort of warm fuzzy comfort.
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