My Great Grandpa Taught Davy Crockett To Write Cursive
Bone of my bone
Davy Crockett and my great great grandfather Enoch Tucker, went a-huntin'. Tales handed down through the family had them about 17 years old at the time. Enoch, proficient with the pen, taught Davy how to write cursive. He is mentioned in the museum of artifacts in Washington, D.C. Both held land properties side by side in Tennessee.
This little bit of family history, had me curious enough to take up genealogy. You'll find out a lot of facts that will surprise you. For instance, there was a horse thief in my family. And there were slaves. One of my relatives who died in 1799, left one negro slave named Abraham to a son. One negro woman named Bessie to his daughter. Genealogy is a fascinating hobby, and it will give you many hours of pleasure.
My feelings are that in each family someone seems called to find the ancestors. To put flesh on their bones. To tell the family stories. Somehow I think they would approve. It's not just a cold gathering of facts. Instead, it breathes life into all who have gone before. In finding them, we find ourselves. I have lost count of the graves I have stood before and felt the love they had for me.
Seeing a cemetery about to be lost to weeds and indifference makes me want to do something about it. They were bone of my bone. Flesh of my flesh. With pride, they carved out a life and hoped it would be better for the next generation. I call myself a scribe, and hope that the next generation will answer the call and take their place in a long line of family story tellers.
Davy Crockett Days
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