Echos From The Past

I descend from the Adams family, not to be confused with the Addams Family. My grandparents were not Gomez and Morticia Addams. 😂 

I have been actively pursuing information about my family tree for years. A really proud moment for me was when I learned that I am descended from President John Adams and his wife Abigail. He harbored hopes regarding his descendants' future. He believed that the progress and stability of the American republic were crucial for his family's continued opportunities.  It is in this vein of personal growth and hopes for stability that Hubs and I began our own business. We both stand on the shoulders of family who strived to better themselves and reach into the future with faith. Hubs hails from adventurous conquistadors and a mother who fought to become an American citizen. What a heritage to bring to our own adventures! It couldn't have happened in any other country, I believe. 

Our next load would actually propell me into a very personal journey. It may sound a bit macabre at first, but the road ahead of us unfolded in a very pleasant way. 

It began in Lubbock, Texas, where we picked up some cement forms on pallets. We didn't really know what they were. The pallets were wrapped and protected to the point that we couldn't see the actual product. Once loaded, we headed off on the road to Grandview, Missouri, taking us through Wichita Falls and on up to Oklahoma City. 

By the time we stopped for fuel in Wichita Falls, Hubs discovered some spots on the ground under the truck that alarmed him.  He began inspecting the engine, and found transmission fluid leaking from a hose.  He started working on it and talking to our son and son-in-law on the phone. 

While Hubs got the leak repaired, Jax and I were waiting and hoping that we weren't sidelined again.  Maybe that was mostly me hoping.  Jax was busy making friends.  

I was also keeping an eye on the weather. A storm was brewing other than potential mechanical problems.  

We managed to get back on track that evening, and drove along with the sky becoming more menacing. At one point we were passed by storm chasers, and questioned whether or not we should remain on a path that they were on. 

We finally made it to Oklahoma City, and pulled into our usual QT to get off the road and rest up for the next day.  The rain tapped on the roof singing me to sleep. And eventually waking me from that sleep as it slipped through the window and sprinkled my face. I don't even know what time it was, but it was just about time to be up again anyway. 

We grabbed our breakfast before we could see daylight, and continued down the dark highway until the sun greeted us, and we were inching closer to the company waiting on us. 

Imagine my surprise when we pulled into Wilbert Funeral Services. What we'd been hauling were pieces that would create burial vaults! This was a leader in the industry. They work with grieving families, funeral homes and crematoriums to create respectful and meaningful services. 

The irony didn't hit me until later how the events of that day played out. 

Our next pick up was only 20 miles away, so we went straight there to get loaded once again.  Busy day!

The drop point for that next load would be Sedalia, Missouri.  As I plugged in all the coordinates, a city name on our route struck me as familiar.  I could not remember at all why I knew the name, I just knew it beckoned me to stop the closer we got.  

It was just as we were only a mile or so from Concordia that it dawned on me that my great great great grandfather, along with his son and daughter-in-law, were buried there.  I had researched it when I was tracing my roots.  They had belonged to a church in the area for most, if not all, of their lives.  I immediately asked Hubs if we could exit and find the church cemetery.  In his usual manner, he joined my enthusiasm and made the detour. 

I had a mixture of emotions as we walked amongst the graves, reading the headstones.  When we found the oldest part, and could make out the names engraved around the Cival War era, I had chill bumps.  What a surreal feeling to finally see for myself some family names on the stones. 

Suddenly they were much more than names. What an incredible discovery.  My story included them.  It came from them. I was truly grateful for this trip. 

I continued thinking about these things as we made our way into Sedalia. We'd remain there until morning when we could deliver the merchandise we'd been carrying. 

It seemed fitting to me after taking a load to a funeral home and then taking a stroll through a cemetery, that I would then see some of the most beautiful homes and churches that had stood the test of time. I began reading anything I could find online about the past stories of these grand places and the people whom had once inhabited them.