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The True Citizen, Wednesday, December 9, 2009 — Page 5
Dixie Divas
LAND OF MY FATHERS
By Ronda Rich
The dawn was barely break
ing, the morning just beginning
to wrestle
the new day
away from
the black
night as the
train trav
eled with a
jolting pur
pose from
Dublin to
Belfast.
As I traveled along the coast
line of the Emerald Isle, headed
north to the birthplace of my
great-grandfather from 10 gen
erations ago, I though of what
Sam Thomas had told me and
how true it was. He is a self-
styled expert on the Scotch-Irish
and the Ulster Plantation area of
Northern Ireland that gave birth,
breed and purpose to our unique
though sometimes curious kin
folk.
“When you see Northern Ire
land, you’ll be surprised how
much it looks like the Southern
Piedmont,” he said. "Then
you’ll understand why the
Scotch-Irish felt so at home in
the Carolinas and Georgia.”
As soon as light illuminated
the landscape, I understood
completely. It looked remark
ably similar to the 12-minute
drive I take from my house to
church on Sunday mornings -
gentle, rolling hills of lush
green, large pasture, trees grown
old by centuries’ worth of time,
wide streams and rich bottom
land. The one difference was
that the sheep far out-numbered
the cattle.
I tried to imagine the North
ern Ireland that my grandfather
had left behind in the mid-
1700s, the wilderness it must
have been back then, but it may
have seemed like a cosmopoli
tan area compared to the wild
untamed America he found.
What courage that must have
taken for William Bryson, born
in 1720 in County Antrim. But,
like many Scotch-Irish, he
sought to be free from British
tyranny. The Scotch-Irish, who
left the Ulster Plantation,
wanted freedom from an over
bearing government and the
right to worship as they pleased.
But the flight from that land
would not end his fight against
the English. Eventually, William
Bryson would join forces with
thousands of other Scotch-Irish
and fight to free the fledgling
American colonies from British
opposition.
See, he like other Scotch-
Irish, were already displeased
with the King when they got to
this country so it didn’t take any
prodding to get them to join the
fight. We Scotch-Irish are al
ways up for a good fight for a
good cause. Win or lose.
My grandfather, this no
madic, independent, stubborn,
red-headed Scotch-Irish, would
become a Revolutionary War
hero. From his loins would
spring other independent, stub
born, red-headed Scotch-Irish
ancestors like, for instance, the
one who writes these words. We
have often been so stubbornly
independent that, as the family
saying goes, we cut our noses
off to spite our faces.
In Belfast, I met with es
teemed historian, Dr. David
Hume, who kindly agreed to
spend the day with me and an
swer questions on my ancestors
and the land from which our
story begins. It took a little
while for us to adjust to the
other’s accent but since they’re
similar - his a faster version of
mine - we soon understood
each other like old friends.
“Are you offended that we
Americans call ourselves
‘Scotch-Irish’ not Scots-Irish?”
I was glad to be sitting across
the table from him and could see
his absolute nonchalance. He
shrugged and shook his head.
“Not at all. It’s not a prob
lem.” He continued on to ex
plain that when the immigrants
had first come to America,
people routinely referred to
them as “Irish” because of their
accents. But they weren’t Irish
and took umbrage to it by
quickly correcting folks, “No,
we’re Scotch-Irish.”
So, the term - completely
American - was indeed born on
American soil.
After a lovely day of learn
ing and delving into my family’s
roots in Belfast, I boarded the
train and headed back to Dublin.
Night had fallen so there wasn’t
much to be seen of the Irish
countryside.
But there was plenty of time
to think. I thought again of the
bravery of William Bryson, of
the spunk it took to travel across
the dark ocean to start a new life
away from his family.
And there in the darkness,
thousands of miles from where
I live, I felt very proud. I’ve al
ways liked a courageous man.
Ronda Rich is the best-selling
author of What Southern Women
Know About Faith. Visit
www.rondarich.com to sign up
for her weekly newsletter.
Letters to the Editor
Veterans say ‘thanks’
Editor:
American Legion Post 120,
Burke Light Infantry, would like
to take this time to thank all
sponsors, volunteers and par
ticipants in our first American
Legion Golf Classic tourna
ment.
The tournament was held
Nov. 7, at the Waynesboro
Country Club. It is through
events as this, that Post 120 will
be able to continue our special
programs. These include Girls
and Boy State, ROTC scholar
ships, supporting Kids for
Christ and many other pro
grams.
The sponsors for this golf
classic were Southern Auto,
Walton Golf, Corner Store,
Southern Bank, Sav-A-Tree of
Hilton Head Island, Wal-Mart,
Steve Bargeron and Associates,
Sheriff Greg Coursey,
Queensborough National Bank
& Trust, First National Bank,
Mizell Ford, Tinley’s Pro Shop,
Goldberg’s Furniture, J&B
Tractor, Burke Truck and Trac
tor, McKinney Home and
Rental Center, Ashton Blount
Insurance, Henry and Dale
Tinley and Blanchard Equip
ment.
Winners of the championship
flight were Larry Askew, Wade
Marchman, Riley Marchman
and Gene Scott. Winners of the
first flight were Joe Cooley,
Mike Smith, Stan Jones and
Byron Brown.
Commander Frankie
Clayton and Staff
American Legion Post 120
False information
Editor:
On Dec. 3,1 wrote a letter to
the editor about my son being
in the Burke County Jail. In that
letter, I made a comment about
the Jefferson County Jail. I need
to apologize to the Sheriff of
Jefferson County and his em
ployees. I was given false infor
mation about the jail and have
since found out this information
was incorrect. I visited Jefferson
County Jail and realized it was
a nice facility. I was treated with
respect and courtesy. I regret
saying what I said about
Jefferson County jail and ask for
their forgiveness.
Sincerely,
Libbi Hinton
Augusta
Other Voices
By F. Leslie Jenkins Jr.
Burke Banter Boy
“Some are born great, some
attain greatness, and some have
greatness thrust upon them,” so
said a wise man, or maybe it was
a wise woman.
I seem to remember quotes,
but have trouble remembering
who made the quote.
I can say without fear of con
tradiction that I wasn’t born to
greatness, I certainly haven’t
attained greatness, but at this
late date in my life, I am still
waitng for greatness to be thrust
upon me.
One never knows when some
unforeseen event will make one
famous. Out there somewhere is
a remarkable new gadget just
waitng for me to invent. Let me
think - the cell phone, the ipod,
the pod, the TV - all these have
been invented. But out there
another great invention is just
waiting to be discovered. Will I
be the great one who discovers
it?
I guess I am really not an in
ventor, so maybe I should try
another method to reach great
ness.
I’ve got it!! Poltics. If I could
only reach the Halls of Con
gress. Think of all the great men
serving in our hallowed halls. Is
there a greater place to find
greatness and wisdom?
I’m sure I would become a
great representative or senator.
Who knows? I might even reach
the White House - the pinnacle
of wisdom and greatness. I sup
pose, though, I am too old for
the presidency; but who, pray
tell, is wiser and greater than a
very old white haired senator?
Yes sir! I would be a snap for
that job.
On second thought, consider
ing the prestige of the politicans
today, would I truly be increas
ing in wisdom and greatness?
There’s a question to ponder.
Perhaps a celebrity of another
ilk - a great ball player, nope
too old, - a famous leading man,
nope too short, too ugly, a cor
porate executive, nope I prefer
to think I’am a tad too honest.
Perhaps I am suited to be a great
surgeon or doctor, nope it takes
brains.
Maybe a great defense attor
ney or a famous D.A. or su
preme court justice, nope big
question as to whether greatness
is to be found there.
How about preaching? I could
become a great evangalist, but
in God’s Kingdom one must
become last to reach greatness.
I have eliminated every source
of greatness, except writing.
Just the reading of this piece
would bar me from any form of
greatness as a writer. How could
I have even thought of such.
Looks as though I missed the
boat at every port. How true that
is. All my life I have waited for
my boat to come in. I’m still
waitiing.
The allure for greatness still
calls to me. What will make me
great? I have scrolled up and
down the list, yet seem to get
nowhere.
My wise granddaddy often
quoted these lines, “The heights
of great men, reached and kept,
were not attained by sudden
light, but they, while their com
panions slept, were toiling up
ward in the night.” The real an
swer to greatness lies in deter
mination and confidence, aided
always by hard work.
But like the ‘blue bird of hap
piness’ found in one’s own back
yard, greatness has come to me
right here at home.
I am great because of my
wife, because of my children,
because of my grandchildren. I
am great because of family,
friends and loved ones. Many
friends, large families, lots of
loved ones brings greatness.
As the numbers of each group
increases the greater becomes
my greatness.
Don’t look to me for wisdom,
but do look for my greatness to
increase as it is thrust upon me
by more family, friends and
loved ones.
You can reach F. Leslie
Jenkins Jr., Burke Banter Boy,
via email at:
f291 @bellsouth.net
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Cat Lunch With Santa
Saturday, Dec. T2 -11:30 a.m. - 2:30 p.m.
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photo with Santa or let Bubba take your
picture for a small lee
Merry uiristmas & Happy Mew Year
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East nth Street - Wafiwboro - lou-tevosol
Kim McDaniei,
fcwe Pwell, & ftionda fijuict