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This page contains photos with short writings that
detail the memories that go along with the picture. If your not a
member of this family, you may not understand the significance of the
story and the meaning to us, but you may find value in them, that help you
understand life in general. |
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When you view this picture you probably
wonder why it's here. An old hickory stump, laying in a brush
lot. Obviously old and fallen down for a long period of time.
A tree of great age, estimated to have been over 200 years old when it
succumbed to age. It saw and heard many things, including the sounds
of our family first building a log cabin, not far from this location circa
1765. Now it lies on its side providing a convenient storage
location for hickory nuts for squirrels. At one time when this field
was a pasture, it provided shade to my grandmother
(our fathers mother), as she picked hickory nuts in the fall.
I'll bet the dry leaves still smell and sound the same as they did
then. If you sit quietly and close your eyes you can picture life in
a simpler time and without too much effort you can feel her presence at
this spot. (Kenneth R. Rau - March 30, 2002) |
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working with a son & grandson the dimensions of this project is much
more than I dared to imagine but when I think about the original land
clearing the hand planting & harvesting then hand threshing the
fire wood cutting the butchering the barn building the trips to the city
or just going to Dunnsville for the mail , I get lost in the work of our
ancestors to hold fast to their dreams since 1799 so that I could have my
boyhood on the very land my children & grandchildren & great
grandchildren see feel & enjoy the land of our heritage. Your Mom
& Dad have not a easy life but we have been blessed in many ways, how
long to walk down the lane, turn into the hollow to the place where the
wooden gate used to be seen the glistening pond by the wooden water trough
by the spring, then look south past the spot where my Mother picked up
Hickory nuts for cake and fudge, and maybe see the restored Miller log
cabin with the porch facing the spring hole, and imagine the puff of smoke
from old Mr. Millers mussel load flint lock gun, as he furnished venison
for his family. I wonder if possibly his spirit still blows though the
tall pines , I like to think of all our ancestors smiling to see the land
of their dreams being restored by their own kinfolk. I do not have to walk
to lay out our roadway as I can what you have in mind even as I type these
thoughts to you. I send my love to you all and thanks again for a
nice day. May God keep His blessing on the old Farm. Dad. (Everett
Wemple Rau - March 10, 2002) |
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