To do this right I would need to visit the cemetery of where my great grandmothers brother's wife's great great grandmother is, the smell of old silk lingers, as I dig up some old papers, confirming the names from the place cards which match his wifes sir name. Yes, the family rests there near an orchard of trees at the top of the hill. Wallace is his name and a marker is there for his wife Mary but this is not her grave, this is not where his wife's great great grandmother is laid to rest. Keepsakes are rare, the true rarity this story brings to me brings a smile to my face. I find it difficult to talk about, the letters are not there, I only have the antiques that were in my Mothers home.
As I know this story, an old one, now three hundred years old to the year, I now have help by a research writer, to help me to the old grave yard near town hall. After a good couple days wondering the hill sides and driving from one small town to the next, meeting young and old that live here in this rolling hills, Eastern state of New England to find the grave just a stones throw from the Heineker College. Yes my great grandmother's brother's wife's great, great grandmother rests there. The years now about fifty I recall the pirate story my mother shared with us and friends, the story of the silk dress, a gift from the man with the red feather in his hat, hated by many and now a legend of history in our family. Not many would know him after the birth of Mary, he was a ruthless criminal that had his relentless spirit stripped when he saw the mother and her new born baby. To this day her memories will stay in this part of New England, and the dress, now in many parts, hold her family together as we all have a small part of it, the silk with the flower bouquet.
As I know this story, an old one, now three hundred years old to the year, I now have help by a research writer, to help me to the old grave yard near town hall. After a good couple days wondering the hill sides and driving from one small town to the next, meeting young and old that live here in this rolling hills, Eastern state of New England to find the grave just a stones throw from the Heineker College. Yes my great grandmother's brother's wife's great, great grandmother rests there. The years now about fifty I recall the pirate story my mother shared with us and friends, the story of the silk dress, a gift from the man with the red feather in his hat, hated by many and now a legend of history in our family. Not many would know him after the birth of Mary, he was a ruthless criminal that had his relentless spirit stripped when he saw the mother and her new born baby. To this day her memories will stay in this part of New England, and the dress, now in many parts, hold her family together as we all have a small part of it, the silk with the flower bouquet.