A quote often attributed to those whose ancestry runs deep into South Carolina's low country is: " Charlestonians, like the Chinese, eat lots of rice and worship their ancestors." The South, maybe as much as any part of the country, moves ancestor worship to a new level. We venerate organizations such as the DAR (Daughters of the American Revolution), SAR (Sons of the American Revolution), Colonial Dames, etc.
Locally and regionally, I have found that if you want to learn more about the history of an area or of families, you should visit the cemeteries. Often, when I visit old cemeteries, I find myself daydreaming and asking questions, not audibly, but to myself. Here are some:
1. What did this part of the State look like in the early part of the 19th century?
2. How long did it take a family with a large number of children to get them ready for worship on Sunday mornings?
3. Church lasted most of the day in the 19th and into the early 20th century, as it was the primary place where people met and exchanged ideas.
4. What kind of life did Circuit Riding preachers have who went from church to church, often many miles from home?
5. When young couples married in the 19th and until the mid-20th centuries, they often lived in highly rural areas where medical services were practically nill (zero). There was no prenatal care, nothing but a stick or piece of cloth to bite down on to quell the pains of childbirth.
6. How did people survive? There was no refrigeration, no electricity—none here at the Eight Mile Still until 1948—and no indoor plumbing for most. Heat was a fireplace or a gas stove if you were lucky. Getting cool meant going to sit on the porch when, on the rare occasions, there was time.
I want to state here that as I walk through these cemeteries, two words stand out in my mind: struggle and commitment. Life was and is a struggle, and those resting under the gravestones truly valued the human connection with friends and neighbors at church, at rare social occasions, and even at funerals because for friendship to be real, one has to laugh and rejoice and weep with your friends.
Women didn't vote until 1920. Up until that time, they were relegated to a status of second class citizens. We all know how untrue that is.
Struggle...minorities couldn't vote until the mid-60s, and sometimes later than that. Struggle...which produced greatness and appreciation. Commitment to the Lord, to families, to community.
People tell me all the time that children have gotten worse. No, parenting has. Many parents are more interested in being their child's friend than being parents.
In this nation today, half of our children are being raised in single-parent homes. In several ethnic groups, three out of four children are born outside of wedlock. And, the credo for spiritual education for children...sad. If they are not playing travel ball or we are not doing so and so. Let me inform you that most mothers in my day, regardless of race in this area, were drugging their children. We were drug to church, Sunday school, choir practice and Vacation Bible School. It may not have all taken, but that wasn't the fault of most mothers...primarily mothers.
And child psychology was an acronym. TTBU stands for "Teat That Behind Up," and they would, with commitment, follow through at home and at school. The home stood behind the schools.
Enough of that. History shows us where we have been, what greatness was garnered there, and mistakes, hopefully not to be repeated. And I bet you never dreamed silent walks could surmise all of that through a cemetery. Sometimes, the truth does lie "on the other side of silence."
From the Eight Mile Still on the Woodpecker Route north of White Springs, wishing you a good week.
