This is the headline of a book, recently found, that was compiled by my paternal grandmother Francis Adair nee: Fuller, sometime in the late sixties. Born in 1900 in the southern United States (Hopkinsville Kentucky), oldest of seven sisters. Married my grandfather as a second marriage (apparently scandalized for the day, a divorced woman). Yet: one of the strongest memories of an adult that I hold from my childhood as the youngest, later second youngest, in what for the time was not an overly large family (six, seven and later eight children). A woman who left an imprint on me, on my marriage, on my children (though they may not be aware).
Well, there is my introduction. I may interject as I write out her book, I will do so in {brackets}. But mostly I am going to try to be faithful to what she wrote. A southern, Baptist, woman, in her late sixties, travelling from south Florida to the James Bay, in the summer of 1969 (I was just ten years old). Here is her story as she wrote it, I have even left mis-spellings or America spelling as much as I notice.
"This verse from the 19th Psalm is one that I learned many years ago, while in the eight grade. Until J.W. (my grandfather) and I made this 5000 mile trip this summer, traversing six states and two Canadian provinces, it was just that, a familiar and oft repeated verse from one of the many Psalms our beloved teacher Mrs. Moss required us to commit to memory.
Abraham Lincoln once said, and I quote "I can see how it might be possible for a man to look down upon the earth and be an atheist, but I cannot conceive how he could look up into the heavens and say there is no God."
I cannot see how man can look upon the earth and say there is not God. The beauty of the lakes, rivers, rolling hills, winding roads through the mountains, the rich farm lands, bustling cities we saw were all things long to be remembered and evidence of His great love. And man can say there is no God?
I do not claim to be a brilliant author, nor even a good story writer. I did want to share our summer's trip and fun with my sisters and a few kind and interested friends. I have been asked to report it this way. I might say the request came after I had said I might do it this way. So this is my way of telling you of our trip, and I hope you will not be bored. Also that you will excuse any and all mistakes for I always seem to get a typewriter that makes a great many mistakes. I never do you know. Do wish all of you could have been with us."
That is all for tonight. Hope someone reads this. It is in an old binder with the type-written pages inside of plastic sheet protectors. She was not much older than I when her and J.W. took this trip. I look forward to sharing this with you. Good night. js
Well, there is my introduction. I may interject as I write out her book, I will do so in {brackets}. But mostly I am going to try to be faithful to what she wrote. A southern, Baptist, woman, in her late sixties, travelling from south Florida to the James Bay, in the summer of 1969 (I was just ten years old). Here is her story as she wrote it, I have even left mis-spellings or America spelling as much as I notice.
"This verse from the 19th Psalm is one that I learned many years ago, while in the eight grade. Until J.W. (my grandfather) and I made this 5000 mile trip this summer, traversing six states and two Canadian provinces, it was just that, a familiar and oft repeated verse from one of the many Psalms our beloved teacher Mrs. Moss required us to commit to memory.
Abraham Lincoln once said, and I quote "I can see how it might be possible for a man to look down upon the earth and be an atheist, but I cannot conceive how he could look up into the heavens and say there is no God."
I cannot see how man can look upon the earth and say there is not God. The beauty of the lakes, rivers, rolling hills, winding roads through the mountains, the rich farm lands, bustling cities we saw were all things long to be remembered and evidence of His great love. And man can say there is no God?
I do not claim to be a brilliant author, nor even a good story writer. I did want to share our summer's trip and fun with my sisters and a few kind and interested friends. I have been asked to report it this way. I might say the request came after I had said I might do it this way. So this is my way of telling you of our trip, and I hope you will not be bored. Also that you will excuse any and all mistakes for I always seem to get a typewriter that makes a great many mistakes. I never do you know. Do wish all of you could have been with us."
That is all for tonight. Hope someone reads this. It is in an old binder with the type-written pages inside of plastic sheet protectors. She was not much older than I when her and J.W. took this trip. I look forward to sharing this with you. Good night. js
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