Digging Up Bones

A dear family friend visited last week, and our conversations always help me sift through my past.  Her visit coincided with a nagging desire to try to unearth some history about the tiny farming community in Middle Tennessee that we now call home.

Our town has a population of approximately 1500, which is spread over a wide area since the community is rural and mostly agricultural.  What I call our “downtown” is three abandoned buildings by the railroad tracks.

Living here is peaceful and people are remarkably friendly.  Recently an older couple stopped their truck next to mine as I was driving down the road.  Not recognizing them and thinking they needed directions, I rolled down my window and smiled.  We exchanged pleasantries and then there was silence for what, to me, seemed like a long time.  Then the lady said, “Nice to meet you!” and they drove off.  I finally realized that they were just saying hello, and wanted nothing.  After living in bigger towns and cities, this still stuns me.

Some neighboring towns have town squares and even have public archives, but not mine.  A visit to The Smith County Museum yielded a short history of my town, and indicated that the three buildings were a bank, a farm hardware store, and a livery stable.  My town’s history is tied to the railroad lines, and has always been agriculturally based.

The museum staff suggested that I talk to some of the older residents for more history, and they were willing to provide me with a list.  This was a start, but I kept wondering what would happen when these people died.  History can be lost so quickly.

My visitor likes to photograph old cemeteries, so we spent a lot of time doing that.  I found these moments incredibly peaceful and soul-stirring at the same time.  I kept thinking about the importance of connecting the past to the present.  I plan to do some research on the most common names that kept popping up in our local graveyards.

Perhaps because I have been recently transplanted, a sense of where I am now has become very important to me.  How do you set down roots without good dirt, anyway?  You need something to adhere to if you are to grow.  I could grow anyway, apart from my community.  But that seems empty and stale at best.  So I’m out digging up bones.

I would love to hear more about how you’ve connected with your own community’s past.  Please feel free to post your comments.

Marianne Smith
Writer At The Ranch
Making You Look Brilliant One Word At A Time
http://www.writerattheranch.com/
wordsmith@writerattheranch.com