Walking through an old graveyard

Tombstone of John Henry Mott, Jr., Tabernacle Campground Cem.

The last several weeks I’ve spent a good bit of time going through old genealogy files on my daddy’s family.  His surname – Motte / Mott; his mother’s maiden name – Follett / Follette; his paternal grandmother’s maiden name – Munn; etc., etc.  Once in a long while I find a new piece of information online, especially since Ancestry now has a Family Tree feature built in, which goes out into cyberspace and does the searching automatically.  I’ve added names by ones and twos, then pushed the search button and waited.

Then too, I’ve looked through side notes on relatives in my own Family Tree Maker software, looking to see if there’s a new line of inquiry I can take up anywhere.  One of those relatives was John Henry Motte, (Mott) Jr. and his wife Carrie / Corrie Gibbs.  He is buried at Tabernacle Campground Cemetery.  But I had never been there to take a photo, as I had with other relatives whose final resting place was known.

So, with a bit of online Googling I located that little cemetery, took my camera the other afternoon and drove down Highway 76 to Lynchburg in Lee County.  I turned left on Hwy. 341 and drove nearly to the Sumter County line, and there it was, a small graveyard on the left side of the road.  No real drive-way in, just a large wrought iron gate with the name in metal lettering and a smaller sign to one side.  I parked alongside the road and let myself in through the gate.  There were only a hundred or so graves, the dates ranging back a hundred years or so.

I knew that John Henry Motte, Jr. had died in 1937.  That gave me an idea of what the marker’s general appearance would be.  As I walked I realized that the lettering had completely worn away on many stones or was obliterated by mold or stains.  The little cemetery looked fairly well cared for and still used occasionally so walking among the markers wasn’t too precarious.

And then I spotted it, to the side of a group of Gibbs family markers.  That made sense – his wife Carrie was a Gibbs.  I took a photo of all those grave stones.  But where was Carrie’s marker?  She had died in 1915, but there was no marker for her.  There was enough space beside John Henry’s grave; perhaps she’d been buried there and no tombstone ever erected.

As I walked back toward the car, I saw a familiar name – Dickerson.  One of John Henry’s sisters, Sarah, had married a Dickerson.  I didn’t remember his first name, though, so I took photos of all those markers to match up with possible in-laws later.

It felt a little strange, walking all by myself among those graves.  The last time I’d done cemetery research and photographs, Tim was with me, patiently waiting in the car or sitting in a shady spot.

One more cemetery I haven’t taken photos in is over at Sardis, where other Motte relatives are supposedly buried.  I may drive over there one afternoon soon, while I’m still in the family tree frame of mind.

Let’s munch a bunch of lunch

Lawrence Tong and his family are back from furlough in Singapore and China. In the ship’s office, that means one important thing — lunch! Lawrence is a great cook, and when he’s persuaded, implored by everyone around, he consents to preparing a team lunch, whether for a few or a crowd. Last week it quickly became a crowd, when the team members, spouses and offspring found out Lawrence was cooking.

Curry was the main menu item, with lots of rice to soak up those wonderful juices. One pot featured beef, another chicken. Both included vegetables and both were delicious. Of a kind and considerate nature, Lawrence didn’t add the spiciest (i.e., hottest) spices to the pots, he provided side dishes of those. Just to look at them was enough for me!

A cool green salad and ice cold watermelon rounded out the adult menu, while the younger kids who didn’t partake of curry enjoyed good old fashioned hot dogs.

Furloughs for missionaries are times when they visit family and supporters back home as well as rest up a little, taking some time along the way to recharge their batteries, physically and spiritually. Lawrence’s furlough, however, was only partly a time of rest.

For several weeks, he and several friends took part in relief work in the China earthquake region. A special emphasis was on helping to restore – actually building back from scratch – a school that had been demolished. A report about this is included on the Carolina Connection pages of the OM Ships website, www.omships.org/carolina.

We’re all glad the Tong family are back. Hopefully we can “munch a bunch of lunch” with Lawrence’s special dishes again soon.

Do you read Esther’s Petition?

I write several blogs, not just this one.  Bible studies, thoughts and meditations on scripture passages – www.estherspetition.wordpress.com – is one of my favorites.  Check it out.

Drive time – 76, 501, 544 and 17

Gasoline prices are keeping people ON the road between Florence and Murrells Inlet, I think.  Yesterday morning I left home about 9 AM and was glad I was going, not coming back!  There was a steady stream of cars in the opposite lane, nearly bumper-to-bumper.  The stream got closer together and slower as I entered Highway 501 just past Marion.  Check-out time at most motels is 11 AM and I guess these folks thought they’d beat the rush.  Wrong!  Everyone else seemed to have the same idea.

I stopped at Bo-Jangles in Aynor for a cup of coffee. I asked the already-tired-looking cashier if she had been busy, thinking about all the traffic going the other way.  She said that since she arrived at 4 AM there had been a steady stream, people coming and going both ways.  Her opinion (as is mine) was that with gas prices high, more people are vacationing in the state and at the beach, rather than traveling to other states, other beaches.

Several families with small children were having brunch, several of the parents talking to other parents.  I sat against a far wall, trying to avoid being trampled by energetic little feet running here and there.

On my way back home after lunch, the horrendous traffic was coming into the beach, in the opposite lane from me again.  I was extremely grateful, considering that it was worse this time than before.  Check-in time is usually 4 PM, and it was not yet 3 PM.  But from the outskirts of Conway all the way into Marion, traffic coming towards me and the beach was traveling most of the time at a snail’s pace.  Poor people.

Looking forward, not back

Hard to do, sometimes, looking forward and not back.

Yesterday before I drove to the beach to have lunch with Angie and the grandkids, I went to the cemetery to add new flowers to Tim’s gravesite.  The blue-lavender and white ones were still pretty, I just added a new bunch with darker lavender-purple and a few red flowers into the center of the others.

As I walked past other grave markers and flower arrangements, I realized again that some graves get little attention.  Yes, there are flowers in their bronze containers, but they look old, faded, fragmented and sad.

After another while, who knows how long, I will probably take the flowers away, turn Tim’s little metal vase upside down into its container, and stop visiting much.  I have never put flowers at my parents’ gravesite at Mt. Hope.  I never thought of them as being there.  It wasn’t close by, therefore it wasn’t convenient for me to drive over and take “fresh” (meaning newly minted artificial) flowers.

I don’t think of Tim as being at Florence Memorial Gardens, either.  I think of him as being somewhere quite, quite different!  Lively, energetic, fascinating, challenging, big, advanced – it’s hard to put into words.  But because I do live close by and it is convenient, I drive over occasionally and take “fresh” flowers.  I don’t like the idea of his gravesite looking sad and neglected as so many others do.

Maybe one day I’ll stop.  I’ll turn the bronze vase over, seal it up in it’s little storage slot and quit visiting the cemetery very much.  One day, but not yet.

Well, it wasn’t what I’d hoped

The new X-Files movie was basically an elongated program from the television series, okay but not spectacular. I’m glad I went, just to satisfy my curiosity, and to anyone who hasn’t seen it, I’m recommend that they go.

Shelby and I saw Mama Mia yesterday, and it was funny. And the music was really good, especially if you like Abba, which I do. I don’t know when the last time was I saw a musical movie, but it’s been a looooonnnng time.

Some things struck me – again – at the theater. The preliminary stuff is loud. Too loud. TOO LOUD. TOO LOUD. Do they think you’re going to get up and “go to the kitchen for a snack” during the commercials?

That’s another thing.  They have commercials.  Among the previews (they call them trailers these days, denoting what I wonder?) are scattered actual commercials, just like on TV.  It makes you want to come late just so you don’t have to tolerate sappy sales pitches taking up time you already paid for.

At the X-Files movie, a fellow pushing popcorn and soft drinks, yes, actually pushing a food cart with popcorn and soft drinks, came into the theater while the previews were playing and called out, “Anyone want popcorn or coca-cola?” (No-one did.) That was a first! He didn’t show up for Mama Mia, I don’t know why, but I’d never seen that in a movie theater before. At outdoor concerts and ball games, but never inside a movie show.  Guess they weren’t selling much out in the concession stand, huh.

Oh well, so much for the summer movies.  Maybe later in the year some movie will prove to be as good as advertised, or even better.  I won’t hold my breath, though.