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Where did she go? We always spent the evenings together. I remember meeting her when she was only 4 yr. old. She promised we would always be best friends. Over the years she shared her joys, hurts, secrets, hugs, jokes, and so much more with me. I was always there to listen. No questions or comments did I ever make. I was her slient loving friend. Now for the first time it seems as if she is gone for good. Her mother came in and sat on the bed next to me. She picked me up and cried softly into my hair. I sat silently on her bed. Tears running down my cheeks and hers, she gently put me down into a box and closed the lid. I now understand why the lady who made me, made me with tears. She knew the day would come that I would lose my best friend to a bigger world than her neatly decorated bedroom. Years seem to drag on and on. One day a small 4 yr. old girl opened my box and cried, Oh mama! She is so beautiful! I'll take good care of her. We'll be best friends forever. And the circle of life goes on.
Last edited by Oklahomasue; 10-30-2008 at 09:25 PM..
Reason: correct mistake and add title
I have watched these waters for over a hundred years.....I have sent my light to help those on the sea avoid the dangers of the shoals...I have lit the way for those who brave the shoals to rescue those in peril.....I have endured hurricanes, nor'easters, and the ravages of time....I have even endured being moved, to save my life.....I welcome those who visit me..those who come to hear my stories, and climb my stairs, and see the views that I see...I echo their voices, laughter and footsteps within my walls....many have come and gone.....still I stand, I have always stood, and I will stand firm....I am a guardian of the sea.....I am America's Lighthouse....I am Hatteras....
Last edited by Azkadellia; 10-31-2008 at 07:08 AM..
On Sunday, my grandmother turned 97. This was taken while she was getting ready for her birthday party. She's always been able to remember vivid details from decades ago.....so she's our family storyteller
On Sunday, my grandmother turned 97. This was taken while she was getting ready for her birthday party. She's always been able to remember vivid details from decades ago.....so she's our family storyteller
What a nice picture of your grandmother! She's looking darn good for 97, and I hope that she enjoyed her birthday. You should record some of her stories and family history from her. I wish I had done that with some of my relatives who are no longer living. I can't remember half the stuff they shared with me over the years.
Azkadellia..I love lighthouses...and your story, too!
Rottnboys...I agree with photogal...record her stories..we did with my great grandmother, and they are cherished in our family. The tapes are so old now & listened to so many times...but I love her stories of crossing the country with a caravan of other folks & settling finally in California.
Now that I am just over 100 years old, there are times it is nice to have a quiet life. But if you listen closely, you can sometimes hear the creak of wagons, or the puttering of the old tractor pulling the school wagon, maybe even the sound of my bell calling the children to come inside yet. Sometimes when the wind is right a faint whiff of woodsmoke from one of my long cold potbellied stoves may be caught, or the smell of a box social that used to be held on my grounds... back when I was important that is. The sound that is missed most though now is the sound of all the generations of my children that I kept warm in the winter and safe and dry during Spring and Fall storms. The laughter, the chatter (how I loved the chatter, even though some of my teachers didn't ), and yes sometimes the sniffles when someone fell or had their feeling hurt. That was always followed by the soothing sounds of other children and the teachers. I wish I had hands to write the stories of my life, or lips to tell of the songs sung inside my walls. Even a slight whisper just to let the generations know that I still care and remember....
Last edited by Bydand; 11-01-2008 at 11:27 AM..
Reason: spelling
This is the Poinsett Bridge, located 5 miles off of Old Highway 25 north of Greer, South Carolina. It is the oldest intact bridge in the state. The 14-ft. Gothic arch stone structure spans Little Gap Creek and was once part of the State Road that ran from Charleston to North Carolina. Named for the road's designer and director of the SC Board of Public Works, Joel R. Poinsett, the bridge may have been designed by Robert Mills, architect of the Washington Monument. Poinsett was a prominent early resident of Greenville and a U.S. Ambassador to Mexico. The poinsettia flower, which Poinsett introduced in the U.S. from Mexico, is named for him.
We're okies, proud and true. Pa remembers when there were brothels on the edge of town. He said his brother shot a man there oncet. The law came fer 'im, but he outran 'em. Never came back neither.
Grandma remembers before the dust bowl days. She sold moonshine and took in ironing to make ends meet. We didn't go to school most days on account we had to go out and work the fields with everyone else hereabouts.
Our house still stands, 'cept now it's on the poor side of town. We wuz poor, but so was everyone else. We didn't know no different.
We're okies, proud and true. Pa remembers when there were brothels on the edge of town. He said his brother shot a man there oncet. The law came fer 'im, but he outran 'em. Never came back neither.
Grandma remembers before the dust bowl days. She sold moonshine and took in ironing to make ends meet. We didn't go to school most days on account we had to go out and work the fields with everyone else hereabouts.
Our house still stands, 'cept now it's on the poor side of town. We wuz poor, but so was everyone else. We didn't know no different.
-Ghosts heard by Redbird
Awesome, Redbird. Great story, great shot. Drew me right in! You should write a book, and fill it with your photos.
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I can't remember half the stuff they shared with me over the years. 
Okies
