“Happy is the man who recalls his ancestors with pride, who treasures the story of their greatness, tells the tales of their heroic lives, and with joy too full for speech realizes that fate has linked him with a race of goodly men.” 
— Goethe
I’ve been doing a little genealogy research here and there. So far, I’ve been unable to link myself with either kings and princes, admirals and generals, or, gratefully, rogues and thieves.
If I ever reach retirement age, I may look deeper into the past. For now, I’m reading the work of others who have traced the family’s move to the Forks of the Yadkin around 1750. My direct line of the family during the Revolutionary War seems to have been solidly for independence. An uncle Solomon, however, was an avowed Loyalist and lived on the Yadkin River.
A group of Tories, determined to set him straight, jumped old Solomon, hog-tied him and sent him down the river in a canoe.
According to one account, “he repeatedly hallowed ‘hurra for King George’,” as he floated helplessly downstream.”
We were a hard-headed family from the start.

Her Hopes for Heaven Are Finally Realized

She awoke several times in her last days only to be disappointed. She wasn’t in heaven yet.
Now she is. Carroll Johnston Crowell entered the Pearly Gates on Friday, the place she spent a lifetime preparing for and talking about.
From up the street, my …