Families built America.  Families died for America! Generations of family members died for America!

This is a story about my family. It's not about dying for America, but it's about building family and creating memories. 

Several years ago I had a local man who made walking sticks make some walking sticks for my Momma and my second momma, Aunt Ova. These were special walking sticks! Momma’s had a red marble mounted on the top of her stick. She liked the color red. Aunt Ova’s had a green marble mounted on the top of hers. Green was Auntie’s favorite color. Their names were carved on their sticks and painted to match the color of each marble. I still have and use Momma’s to walk with today. It comes in quite handy these days as I like to take daily walks.  I’m not as steady on my feet as I used to be. Auntie’s, I gave to my sister. My sister’s eyes are green! So it seemed that she should have the one with the green marble.

One day as we were taking a walk together great grandson Owen told me that he would like to have a walking stick. He asked “Where did you get your walking stick?”  So I told him the story about Momma’s and Auntie’s sticks. When I finished he asked “maybe this man would make one for me” to which I answered “I don’t think he makes them any more”. But Owen said that maybe if I asked him, “he would do it just for me”.  This great grandson is highly skilled with powers of persuasion. And I'm so glad he is. The walking sticks turned out absolutely beautiful, but I'm getting ahead of myself. I told Owen that I’d think about it. After a few more days, he followed up with “did you ever ask about the walking stick?”  “No I forgot about it”, but I will ask!

So I did! The walking stick man said “Yes”…. Even though he had not made any for a few years, he said that it would be interesting to see if he still had a knack for it and that he would get back out into the woods and look for twisted trees to make them from! One for Owen and one for his older brother Ash, our other great grandson! 

A few days later the walking stick man messaged me that he had found one piece of twisted wood that would make a good stick, but twisted wood is not as easy to find as it used to be he said.  And an encounter with a black snake had nudged him to quit for the day, as he had already been looking for a few hours! So I told him there was no hurry and that it would be a good learning experience for the boys on being patient! “Something worth having is worth waiting for!’’ 

Soon the walking stick man said that he had found another twisted tree that he would use and the process began of drying the wood in preparation for the finished products. Also, I began my plan for the boys to come and pick out the marbles they wanted for the top of their sticks. I’ve accumulated a small collection of marbles over the years! Nothing big, but a few unusual ones, from which Ash and Owen would pick out their choice for the marble to be mounted on top of their walking sticks! 

The day arrived for us to deliver the marbles and go visit the walking stick man and choose which marble would go on which stick. Steve and I loaded up the boys and their marbles (they had chosen some options to consider depending of how big the tops of the walking sticks were). When we arrived Ash and Owen automatically fell in love with different sticks. I had anticipated a struggle but it was natural and easy! I should have guessed it would be easy since these brothers are very different! Both impressive, but different indeed! 

With the choices made for the location for their names, wrapping of twine tightly around the top of the sticks to provide a better hand grip (one wanted it but one did not), and whether to carve or to burn their names into the wood (both chose wood burning), we went away feeling excited in anticipation of the finished walking sticks or “staffs” as I think it was decided they were to be called. Later on I was corrected of calling them staffs. Owen said a Sheppard staff was tall and had a large curve at the top. So Walking Sticks it is! 

Now for the rest of the story… The walking stick man just happens to be a cousin of my late husband Bronson.(Or to make the correct family connection, his grandmother was a cousin to Bronson) So this story grows into an even larger family story. In fact many years ago the walking stick man, Josh Richards is his name, rode Bronson’s bus as a teen. (My late husband was a school bus driver and worked for the public school system) And Josh’s father and mother probably called the bus driver on more than one occasion to tell him to go ahead and apply discipline as needed if there were any problems with their children!

Family stories are important to tell. Everyone needs to know family stories!     ajs