Highway to Hell?

That's how I used to feel as a little kid riding for what seemed like days down to Smith Creek. That's the old family homestead down there on the right and my mom would load us up with grandparents and go visit quite regularly. The house was falling in then and is gone now, but the old folks lust loved to walk around and talk about how it used to be and sometimes pick up a relic of days gone by. Sometimes we would do something fun like walk down to the old swinging bridge and get eaten up by mosquitos. Other times we had to pick mayhaws and get eaten up by mosquitos. Every now and then we'd stop by and visit other old folks like Uncle Hamp or Eunice and get eaten up by mosquitos.

As a child I didn't take an interest in the old days or how I was related to anyone in Smith Creek because my little world didn't have room for all that. But now that I realize my own memory is fading I am feeling the urge to put some things down in writing for my family to appreciate when they are older. I have always known that the ancestors from Georgia and Alabama moved to Wakulla and Leon counties and that times were hard back then. But now as I listen to my mother tell me the stories that her parents told her the pictures seem more colorful and the people more real. I am finding that I am a lot like my Grandma Fanny and that my son is about as particular as Grandpa Major.

Most of my morning was spent immersed in black and white photos with my mother narrating events from many years ago. I was so absorbed in thinking about it all that I didnt quite recognize my own house when I got here and felt lonely when my daughter drove off. I can't wait to learn more about all these people and hope to get a lot of input from other living relatives as I continue this project.