Greetings from Cathey’s Creek and Welcome to the Weekend Chat!
I woke up early last Wednesday, at first light. I saw the valley field behind our home, dew laden, and a mist hung heavy in the air. All was quiet before the work-a-day world awoke. The scene reminded me of when I was 15 years old, riding with my older brother to our jobs at the textile mill in Gastonia from our home in Paw Creek. Back then our extended neighborhood hadn’t been swallowed up by Charlotte, and I-85 was just another four-lane road, lightly traveled at 5:30 a.m.
This short 20-minute trip took us through the land where my ancestors settled in the mid-1700s.There were few lights, except for the occasional car and those homes where the mercury lights still shone. We would pass out of the border land of Paw Creek and Steele Creek, crossing the Catawba, and entering what used to be called, even in my day, the Point Settlement, the land between the Catawba and the South Fork of the Catawba. It was the time of day when my ancestors would be getting up for their day’s work, the Lawings and Underwoods, the Beatys and Neals.
I grew up in a different time with different opportunities and challenges. But, what did my ancestors think about the day to come? Was it of the toil ahead in support of their families? Or, did they even have the opportunity, as I often did, to revel in the morning mist, the beauty of the forests, or the sound of the waters of Dutchman’s Creek, Killian’s Creek, Gum Branch, or Long Creek. Did the edifice of King’s Mountain, keeping silent watch over the wide lands, inspire any awe?
In an era of easy mobility, I was thankful that I lived all of my early years in the same land, the land of my forefathers and mothers, a once very rural area. It is a connection that I never lost, that beautiful environment of trees and creeks, hills and farmland, along both sides of the Catawba despite the changes that came later. And, even though I now live several counties to the west, I know that when I walk in these old and sometimes hidden cemeteries in these mountains of wonder, that my ancestors, the Galloways and Owens, the Reids and Butlers, walked here before me. I find that connection here, too; not as strong, but it is still there.
I find a rootedness in this, and it is one reason that I pursue distant relatives long gone. In the South, it was so very important to know how someone connected to you and to the community and through which path that connection was made. “Cousin” had a whole ‘nuther meaning to us. Communities today can be very different. A work community, a political community, a religious community. However, when I was growing up, it was also the land that connected us, a land we shared with each other, a land where memory ran deep, a land that supported family and culture. A land where wonder and beauty resided.
Wherever you are, and in whatever circumstances in which you find yourselves, my fellow WikiTreers, I hope that you take the time to find a sense of that same wonder and beauty.