No, your not imagining it.
Year after year and generation after generation, our ancestors then, and family now, have gathered together on the first Saturday in May at Trevillion Cemetery in BlueHill, Mississippi. Just like that old song says, "There's a sweet sweet spirit in this place."
Everyone begins to gather under the shaded pavilion, bringing in covered dishes for lunch on the grounds and then taking a seat on the old church pews. There's a nice breeze in the air and the birds singing in the trees are our only instruments. Songs began to be sung out of the old worn hymnals and Jenna Smith Bearden sang one of my favorite songs, "Sweet Beulah Land."
A yearly report of business was given by Johnnie Harold Smith. This year he read the names from the business book page dated back in 1964. I heard him say my grandfathers name, Louie Thomas, and one of my grandmothers brothers, Aubrey Smith. The donations may have seemed small but back then a single dollar was worked hard for money was tight. I bet my Granny sold a basket of fresh hen eggs to make that two dollars, but I know that the money was given in love just like the collection made here this day.
The message was given by Brother Burt Brown on what happens after the grave. As he spoke, I looked past the people to where those that have gone on were buried. I can picture the scene of everyone of those graves one day. Everyone will rise out of the grave and those that are still alive will follow. What a wonderful gathering that will be. I 'm ready, the people sitting around me are ready, and those bodies that are buried in this sweet little cemetery in the middle of no where are waiting.
Van Smith brought John H Smith's, his Great Grandfathers, one cylinder Witte that had once pulled his gristmill and syrup mill. John passed away 11/20/56 and Van restored it in honor of his great grandfather.
A special thank you to my dear sweet cousin James and his wife Ruthie for the hospitality and love they shared with me and my friend, Patsy, while staying in their Country home down the road from the cemetery. And for introducing Patsy and I to new friends, James and Joyce Richardson. Our life's are blessed by the paths that God has crossed us with.
Thank you Patsy for the friendship we share, for being my traveling partner, and for coming back with me again to the middle of no where.
MayDay, May 3, 2014 in the middle of nowhere down an old Mississippi road.
by: B. Hall
by: B. Hall