Alice Irene

It's been a while and I apologize. I have let life get the best of me, worrying over important but not the most important things and putting off the time to be quiet and absorb. Well, enough with the philosophical and on to a request or two. READ THE COMMENTS! My dream is that this blog becomes a place to share and in so doing, acts to uplift one's spirit through humor, debate, intrigue or inspiration. 2nd request is that YOU ADD a story, experience or even a thought of your own.

I met a very special 89ish African American woman this week while searching in the hinterlands for a couple of cemeteries and homeplace. Her name is Alice Irene and is a descendent of the family in question; she lives by herself. Her nephew had taken me to see her because one cemetery was located on her farm.

While standing on her front porch, I got the distinct impression that she was highly skeptical and even disapproving of my intentions. After informing me in a rather crotchety manner that her health was not good, she asked if she could go along as we searched for the older grave yard.
She seemed to ramble a lot as she carried on a non-stop monologue from the back seat, disagreeing with the nephew's suggestion of where we needed to go. Without speaking, he and I agreed to follow her directions. She was right on the money every step of the way!

We found the cemetery -with additional guidance from a helpful neighbor- and what we believe to be the chimney from the original house. The search covered a fair amount of ground and Alice Irene chose to ignore her health issues. Despite my admonitions about the uneven terrain, brambles and downed trees, she was not to be detained or dismissed. Standing in the midst of the cemetery damaged by a large fallen tree and covered with at least 8 inches of periwinkle, I was concerned as to how to get Alice I. out of the cemetery. She informed me that "she could do anything I could do," and with that we both crawled over the tree and headed back to the car.

Before we turned for home, she guided us to the remains of a church we needed to identify, confirmed the existence of graves there and pointed out the site of the school she attended in the 1930s. We will return to those sites on another day in hopes of finding the graves and perhaps some sign of the school.

Upon arriving back at her farm, she asked me twice if there were not some other place we could go? I sadly told her, "not today." My heartstrings were stretched to the max as I walked her to the door and waited while she rummaged in her purse for her keys.

I promised to return for another adventure and after a few moments of palpable hesitancy, she put her arms around me anointing me with God's blessing. It doesn't get much better than this.

Until next time, be well.