I love to tell stories.
Telling stories has always been an honorable vocation. One can trace storytelling to times past, when our ancestors passed along legends to the next generation - sung ballads of the exploits of their heroes - even left crude drawings on cave walls. Now, stories are told by way of history books on library shelves and the occasional family researcher.
True, all of us, as witnesses to contemporary events, should be day-to-day storytellers. But, the more I edit or read genealogical publications, the more I am drawn to the stories about, and by, ordinary people. Each of us is, after all, a collection of stories. Some are long ones; many, short ones. Some stories are about happy times; others are about things sad. Other stories focus on our dreams, passions, successes, failures. I suspect, when we die, our newspaper obituary just won't do us justice.
Fortunately, a growing number of people are daring to put their stories in print - family histories sifted from long hours of genealogical research to be mixed with hybrid tales of memory, family stories, and vivid imagination. To paraphrase Ezra Pound, "What is important is the writing - it is a matter of indifference who writes it." Egos notwithstanding, such an observation should encourage us lesser mortals to quit talking and start writing.
We may not win a Pulitzer Prize or a National book award or the acclaim of our peers. But, we just might earn the lasting gratitude of our family and friends for telling a story in which so many of them helped to enliven the plot.
I love to read stories almost as much as I love to tell them. Bless the storyteller.
Aug-Oct 2001
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Still "wet behind the ears" to genealogy research, nine years and counting, I enjoy the "stories" associated with my family research as much as I do finding that next generation of ancestors. One of my favorite discoveries was the fact that my great grandparents Mary Etta Ann Spencer and her beau Henry G. Tune decided to marry. The fact they lived in Ellis county, but married in Louisiana was of curiosity to me, and I wondered if they had eloped. There was no family story to corroborate my suspicion, but I was fortunate enough to locate an old newspaper article from 1887 which confirmed their story. The article stated "Opposition on the part of the old folks caused the young couple to run away and join hands for life on Louisiana soil. They will return home in a short time, when the usual forgiveness will no doubt follow." Now I have this story to pass on to my children and grandchildren.
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