Some days back, Mayme and I were early mornin visiting with my Momma (these are the really good visits) cause at that time of the day my stepdad is on the golf course and we have her all to ourselves. When he is around no one can get a word in edge wise. As we drove up the tree lined lane, and seeing my stepdad's car was gone, Mayme said " Hey Grandma is home alone, maybe we will get to visit this morning." At 14, the child is wise beyond her years in many ways, including how rare it is just to have Grandma to herself. As we parked the van, we could see Momma sittin in the swing that my little brother built her just prior to his death. There were several large plastic containers on the ground in front of her. As we plopped down in the swing with her, it was easy to tell she had been crying some. She said "what a nice surprise , I was just wishing the two of you would come over and visit." She went on to say " Mayme there is a fresh pitcher of sweet tea on the counter and a blackberry cobbler, go help yourself and bring your daddy some too." The child was off and runnin. I glanced down at the containers and could see they were full of photographs. My momma has thousands of photos, Pam and I spent an entire week once helping her arrange them in albums. I was pretty sure I hadn't seen these containers before, and I speculated that they belonged to my Aunt Barbara who had recently moved into a nursing home. I was correct in my thinking. I grabbed a shoe box full and started looking. Two hours later I had seen countless photos of of my grandparents in the early years of their 65 year marriage, aunts, uncles, cousins, my brother, sister and myself throughout our life, and even pics of my Momma and Daddy when they were dating. Most of these pictorial documents of the past I had never seen before. Having looked till my eyes hurt, I was fixin to head us back to Mole Church, when a large envelope once white, and now yellowed with age and tied with a purple ribbon caught my eye. I reached into the box, and carefully untied the ribbon, and what I found warmed my heart and put tears in my eyes. Inside the old envelope were pictures of my Confederate ancestors on both sides of my momma's family. They were taken almost 20 years after the war . The faces were familar, yet different, photos I had seen of them from during the war period were much different than those taken later. Young men had become ancient, tiny lines on their faces had become canyons of sorrow, and worry, yet somehow pride and honor still shown bright in their eyes. My own eyes grew a tad bit more misty when my momma said "I see alot of you in the pictures of my parents', parents', parents,...". I thought to myself what a compliment she had unknowingly given me. Shortly there after we headed home. Later that same week, we headed down to Fairfield to a Warren family gathering. These are always a hoot for me, cause the wilder Indian side runs amuck. From pitchin horse shoes and washers, to wrestling and boxing, to braggin for fun as to which one of us was the better racer or had the prettiest wife (I always win top honors with the latter two lol lol). Anyway, there was an uncle there that I hadn't seen in years and years, not one of my favorites, but it was good to see him anyway. As I sat with my two favorite uncles who have always been more like brothers to me than uncles because they are just a couple years older than me, we were joined by the aforementioned older uncle. He slapped me on the leg and said "TR except for your difference in height, ya'll sure are looking more and more like your daddy the older you get". This struck me kinda funny cause, my momma had just told me how much I looked like her side of the family just a couple days before. Well, one thing lead to another and someone asked had we seen the old pictures that so and so had brought in hopes that someone in attendance could identify some that were unknown to them. I couldn't resist so up I got to seek out the great Aunt with the photos. Most, I hadn't a clue as to who they were or where they were taken. However, one particular old photo caught my eye. Sittin under a tree surrounded by scrub grass, was a small handful of men. Though it was a sepia tone photo, it was easy enough to tell these were Indians, mostly young bucks, and a couple older than all the others. Now ,I couldn't begin to know who the majority of these men were, but one thing for certain one of the older men was Black Dog of Graymore's band, of the Osage brigade, Cherokee Braves CSA. I had seen his photos several times in history books and on the web. It is a face one does not easily forget. I had even written an unreleased song about him. Well, proud to have at least identified one person in the photo I was fixin to head back to the men folk, when the great aunt spoke up " TR, this fellow here looks alot like you ". I said poor fellow" and turned back for another look and had to agree. I walked off smilin inside, thinking to myself yep, that guy is some unknown kin, and he is sittin in the company of one of the lesser known Confederate heros who served under Gen. Stand Waite. Now, having probably bored ya'll, with family talk, I hope I at least made this point. Despite all the years that have past since that war, and all the changes that have occured in the world as well, one thing remains constant. We are linked to the past by those who sired us. As Southerners and Copperheads be "Loud and Proud" of that fact. Do all that you can to not only remember them, but honor them as well. For there will come a day when you shall share a campfire with them. When that time comes, it will be most pleasant to know that when you look them in the eyes, it will be with honor and pride, instead of shame. I for one look forward to the time when I will have a closer ride with kin. In their honor, T Warren Heritage Officer Capt. James Knox camp 2022