My paternal grandmother (Chuck's mother for those of you in the know of my complex family tree) passed away this last week. I am in Asheville for the services. I am also meeting family for the first time. Saturday morning finds me in a condo catching-up on work and watching the Tour de France with my newly discovered uncle David.
Last night I was regaled by the story of my great-great uncle "Maul" (my best spelling of heavily accented Appalachian ole-world English pronunciation) who murdered a competing suitor, was sent to prison, escaped from prison and hid under his mother's porch while his father was out with a posse searching for his escaped convict son. Maul ended up moving across the state and starting a large family of his own with a woman who hadn't roused his blood lust. My grandfather Glen's response to the story, "Guess he needed killin."
My greatest sorrow on this trip is that this is my first time getting to know many of these relatives, and hearing these stories. I will post more about my grandmother, Bertie Sams, after the services this afternoon.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment