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I decided to celebrate my newly found Celtic heritage by attending a St.
Patrick’s Day parade. Partly curiosity, partly a search for identity for
myself and my descendants, I found myself planning a trip to Erin, a several
hour drive from where I live now. I’ve been there before,
but this time it was not a celebration apart from the residents, but a
celebration along with them. It was a search for a connection to the past. |
The parade was the typical small town type affair, beauty queens, high school
band, civic organizations, and local dignitaries. It was a big deal in a small
town where being Irish is the norm rather than the exception. The town is
populated by honest, sturdy folk whose ancestors left the hard times of Europe
to seek better conditions in a new country.
One of the first immigrants to
locate in the area was Charles Stewart, said to be of the Stewart Scottish
royalty. Most early settlers came first to North Carolina, and then moved west
lured by the availability of land in about 1798.
The country was wild two centuries ago, densely wooded and filled with wild
game, bears, wolves, deer and wild cats, a hunting ground inhabited by native
Americans until an uneasy treaty set out a dividing line, but failed to
eradicate the fear of hostility. Present residents are mostly descended from
these early pioneers. In many cases, they still live on the same land that has
been in the family for generations.
My earliest known ancestor was born in the newly formed
State of Tennessee in the wilderness in 1816. His parents must have come here to
settle and raise a family in this primitive land. Did they come from Scotland
via North Carolina as so many others did? More questions to ponder and more
history needed to help me find answers. These people were survivors who
conquered the obstacles to settle the land, the sort of people I am happy to
have as ancestors.
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