This is our first cache! Thanks for visiting!
(My two youngest girls and I have a tradition of bringing along a garbage bag and doing our part to pick up the trash we so often find at the caches on our journeys. We hope you'll do the same if you find any here--so, thanks in advance!)
I grew up here, attending church with my grandparents (and occasionally, intermittently, with my parents) in the little church adjacent to the cemetery. The church fluctuated over the years, growing to near capactiy in the early 90s until a "split" took over half of the congregation to another church in nearby Groveton. It is barely functioning now, with many of the long-time members either passed on or unable to attend. I have many memories of this place, and I owe much to the influence--mostly good, I think--to my time in and around this little church. Here's one memory:
I grew up across the road, and I have never been great with the dark. My driveway was once bordered on one side by a thick forest, and walking home at night (with the graveyard nearby!) was a challenge. In fact, I vividly recall many of my hurried scampers up the driveway in which I sang church songs as a "hedge of protection" against whatever may be lurking. (I was particularly afraid of "devil worshippers"--my Granny and her sister used to speak of them as if they were nearly everywhere, and I thought about them pretty often. They, I was told, were afraid of the name of Jesus, so, logically, if I sang songs with lyrics like "Jesus, Jesus, Jeeeeeesus, sweetest name I know!" then no harm would befall me...)
So anyway, one night when I was walking home from the pastor's house where my best friend lived (it was once located near the church), I hurriedly crossed in front of the church, no doubt a bit nervous for the trek, when a blood-curdling, demonic-sounding roar came from the direction of the cemetery! Overcome, I spun to determine the source of my impending murder, only to find my best friend, the pastor's son, doubled over in snot-inducing laughter. Enraged and humiliated, I sprinted toward him, thoughtlessly, propelled by some combination of rage and shame and hysteria, and when he saw I was not slowing down, his eyes went white just before I slammed into him.
I don't remember what happened next. Probably a lot of swearing.
We've laughed since, but in that moment we weren't the best of friends...
A bit of info on the gravesites (the info is a bit dated):