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I don’t want to leave out anything in this story, so that those who participated will be sure to relay on to future generations the whole account. I therefore must relate to the reader of my roll in this.
I was consulted by cousin Mary Helen back in September during the Bowen family runion about leading a group on today's trip. I conceded, and though not perhaps the best escort, and indeed not the most knowledgeable, I thought I could do a fair enough job.
Well, the whole of the day was not oo remarkable, until their guide (me) strikes himself in the forehead with his walking stick. Wiping blood now and again from the tiny cuts my leadership seemed challenged. "I" was the only one to shed blood for this cause, but why wasn't "I" feeling triumphant or exalted. I was humbled then and there, not ashamed, but humbled.
Mrs. Keyser did not go to the cemetery with us. She has other things to do, and parted company from us at the Frazier Hollow road. We were invited by Sally to come by her house after we returned. I proposed that I would to have a cup of coffee.
All but two of the group stopped by Sally's. Here we had coffee and our cousins browsed through Sally’s collection of Bowen family information. Another day in the life of the kin Seeker.
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