A WALK IN THE PARK: Spring break leads back to roots

— While many travel to sandy beaches or ski slopes for spring break, Earl and I headed for the hills of Kentucky.

It is a trip I have wanted to make for a long time - a pilgrimage of sorts, I suppose, to learn more about the region where many of my ancestors came from. My Dad talked quite a lot about his grandparents who had migrated to Arkansas from eastern Kentucky in the late 1800s. Although both “Granddad Bob” and “Grandma Relda” had passed on before I was born, I still felt an acquaintance of sorts because of the stories I had heard. This was accentuated bymy mother’s keen interest in researching and recording our family history. She was just as excited as Dad about sharing the family stories she uncovered. Even though I didn’t know it or show it back then, I have now come to more fully appreciate my parents’ influence that created my interest in the ones who came before me.

Another thing that kept the memories of those early grandparents alive was the fact that “Granddad” had brought a small eastern hemlock with him when he first came to Arkansas and planted it at the home site where he settled in Madison County. The tree, now wellover one hundred years old, lives in what is presently the Ozark National Forest. It has been designated by the forest service as a “champion” because it is the largest of its species in the state. I have walked to that tree many times during my lifetime and, almost invariably, the hike included conversation about the folks that came here from Kentucky.

So, off we headed to spend spring break, bound by no real schedule and little on our agenda except to explore, discover and have a good time. We took off before daylight on Saturday morning and made our first discovery before reaching the Missouri state line.

The Cowboy Café was open in Sulphur Springs and we kicked off our trip with the best-tasting, mostreasonably-priced, friendliest-served breakfast I have had in a long time. We paired that with another quick stop to capture aphoto of an old barn with a glowing sunrise behind it, and the trip was off to a fine start, even before we got out of Arkansas.

When we arrived in Laurel County, Kentucky, the following day, one of our first stops was the Historical Society in London. We sat at a long table with Renee, a helpful lady who could tell no doubt that we were rookies at this sort of thing. She collected books and old files for us to look through. Armed with a few facts my mother had written down for me, along with some things I could remember from hearing my parents talk, we honed in our search for information on familiar names. After a while, when it became apparent thatwe were actually going to experience some success, Renee handed me a piece of paper with blank family tree branches and advised me to start recording our finds on the lines. Bit by bit, the pagebegan to fill; and by lunch time we had found names of 21 of my grandparents. Granted, my mother could have provided most, if not all of that information from her records; but it was fun to discover traces of ancestors for myself.

The days that followed held more interesting stops and enjoyable encounters with friendly, talkative locals - my kind of people. Our exploration included a visit to the roaring Cumberland Falls, as well as a walk in the footsteps of Daniel Boone through the Cumberland Gap. I was glad to see that groves of hemlocks like the one “Granddad” brought to Arkansas grew in both locations, as well as near the RedRiver Gorge.

We traveled steep and curvy roads carved through narrow hollows in the Appalachian coal mining country and then headed north where the open land eventually widened to form lush,green pastures surrounded by neat wooden fences that held beautiful horses.

By now, we were convinced that, just like Arkansas, Kentucky has several vastly different landscapes and they all hold their own measure of natural beauty. We returned home a little road weary but with a great sense of accomplishment.

The trip had been a success. We were granted our prayers for safe travels; we visited many neat places; talked to friendly, interesting people; found records of my ancestors; enjoyed warm, sunshine-filled days; and missed all of the rain that fell back home.

It was everything I had hoped for, and more.

Annette Rowe is a freelance writer from rural Gentry and a speech-language pathologist at Siloam Springs High School. She may be reached by email at [email protected].

Opinion, Pages 5 on 03/28/2012