Loose Ends #4

I've been writing a little summary after every few posts to try introduce a little continuity, so here goes again. I started this project with the idea of just telling stories randomly. Wenonah's stories are really good, and could stand alone, but they do fit into an overall history, and that is important too, so I have tried to devote part of my posts to telling the story of our family beginning in Scotland with William Paul and his notorious brother John. I also want to spend some time writing about the Chickasaws, because after about 1820 or 30, depending on whom you believe, we became a Chickasaw family. Unfortunately I have neglected the history part because I get side tracked.

For instance, at the beginning of this series of entries, I happened to be writing a chapter in my book about Grandmother, and it made me want to tell the story of her return visit to Palmer Station, Arkansas, her childhood home: We Cried and Kissed Little Forderberry Goodby. I thought that the story told a lot about Grandmother, or Mamma, as Jim called her: her love for her family, for history, and for nature. That letter she wrote to Aunt Oteka when she returned home from the trip was priceless. She was so excited about seeing the places she remembered from her childhood: the cemetery where Sister Eula was buried, and the site of Sister Cora's home. My favorite part of the letter though was the part she wrote about adopting the little stray dog, Forkerberry, and how she and her sisters loved him.

The next story was kind of a gift. I was getting ready to drive down to Oklahoma and knew I wouldn't be able to write anything for a while. I think Jim's Narrow Escape is one of Jim's best stories, and it was easy to copy out of my previous writings. By the way, I took a picture of Rush Creek while I was in Pauls Valley and included it in the description of my trip entitled Roots. Rush Creek is not the raging torrent it was when Jim was little, but it still looks formidable.    

I started the next post, Grieving in the Mountains, before I left for Oklahoma. I spent a day in the mountains and all I thought about the whole day was how I would describe my trip to Jim. I wasn't going to talk about myself in these stories, but it's hard to avoid. So many things remind me of her, and there are so many times I miss talking to her. I was telling a friend about it, and he said that he still gets an urge to call his mother and she died years ago.

The next post, Roots, is just a description of my visit to Pauls Valley. It was really a thrill for me to have time to go through the documents and pictures in the museum and the library and also Smith Paul's house.

Finally on my last entry, Smith Paul Joins the Chickasaws, I went back to the story of Smith Paul. What I wrote was similar to the Post entitled Back to New Bern, but there are so many different versions of Smith Paul's story I wanted to clarify what is really known and what is conjecture or just plain fiction.

I've been in a quandary about what to write about next, but I think I'll try to give some more backgfround about the Chickasaws, just so you'll know what a remarkable people they are.