Photo Credit

If you’re new around here, you may not recall any previous posts like this.  I don’t do them often.  But since my health ordeal last year, I do get questions about how I’m feeling.  Well, I’ll get you up to speed on that before I tell you anything else.

I’m smack in the middle of a three month Prilosec trial after loads of tests that showed nothing.  At the end of the trial, I’ll be weaned off to see if I have further problems.  Given the way I feel today underneath that purple blanket, I’ll be put back on it or an alternating regimen of Prilosec and Zantac.  But for now, I can eat again.  I’m not afraid to exercise for fear that I’ll go through another starvation period and lose too much weight.   Life is starting to look consistently normal.  I’m grateful for any victory, and this is a big one, but I’ll continue to pray for healing.

Now, I’ve got some even better news!
Last week, I decided to go Groupon hunting for you.   That’s nothing new.  But when I did, I saw something extraordinary…well, to me anyway.  I happened across a Groupon for the Historic Hale Springs Inn in Rogersville, Tennessee.   I was frozen.   The only thing this side of  my immediate family that can tear me away from working on great deals is my family history.

I looked at the little snippet of a map embedded in that page and immediately noted that the Register of Deeds was within walking distance of the Inn.   I didn’t just want to see this place.  I needed to see this place.  I’ve always wanted to be in this place.  For just one moment.  For the last 15 years.

“15 years?”, you ask,  ”That’s not very long.”  No, it sure isn’t, but we didn’t even know my Mitchell’s were here until 15 years ago.  I found them.  My mother had been searching long before I was born.  When I was a very young girl,  I have many memories of  her hauling me to libraries to do research.  She never stopped, but did slow down as the years rolled by.  Back in those days, I never paid much attention to what she was doing.  Then all of a sudden, shortly after my father passed away, I realized I knew so little about him.    Perhaps more sadly, in the last 20 years since his passing, I recall even less.  Nevertheless,  his passing started me on a journey to learn about my family that will last the rest of my life, and that journey is a gift.  Believe me.  It has touched and changed me in ways nothing else has, can or ever will.  And part of that journey involves Hawkins and Greene Counties in Tennessee, where my Mitchell’s, Pickering’s, Malone’s, Carter’s, and others lived for nearly 100 years after the Revolutionary War.

I’ve been to East Cape Girardeau, Cairo, Anna, and Thebes in Illinois looking for them.  I’ve been to Cape Girardeau, Burfordville, Lutesville, Marble Hill, Malden, and Senath in Missouri looking for them.  I’ve also been to  St. Francis, Piggott and Rector in Arkansas…what else?  Looking for them.

With all of this swirling around in my head, I sat and stared at the picture of that Inn, shaking my head at the name.  Hale.  Mary Ann Hale Gray Johnson Pickering Mitchell is my third great grandmother.

There were three days left to purchase, so I decided to leave that window open (in more ways than one) and move on to something else.  After all, I’m not sitting on a gold mine for such a trip.  I’m not even sitting on a penny for this trip.  Haha…

Well, I looked at it again the following day.  And again the following day.  Then because I couldn’t let it go, I decided to tell the Facebook group that I started a few years ago –  East Tennessee Genealogy, of course.  ;)

And on the last day, with just a few hours remaining, I bought two nights.   I’ve yet to come up with a third night since I’m holding out for The General Morgan Inn in Greene County, and it’s fully booked.    Even without the third night (which I’ll find somewhere), I will be in Hawkins County with my family for my birthday.  Most importantly, I’ll be with my mother (God willing), who turns 80 this year.

You already know how I feel about my mother.   I can hardly wait to take a picture of her by the Nolichucky River.  Or somewhat near it if it’s scary.  Haha…I’ll caption that picture this way, “You see that hill?  Yep, just over that hill and that other hill about, oh say,  2 miles off is the ROARING Nolichucky River.”

Below is a biographical snippet about my great grandfather, Enos Mitchell.  It was featured in the Premium Messenger Album, an (I believe) annual publication about current ministers of the day.  My son’s middle name is Mitchell specifically to honor this man.

I haven’t figured out what to do with the site while I’m gone, but I’m sure I’ll come up with something.  Even if I don’t, I know you’ll all be here waiting to hear all about my trip.  I can hardly wait for October.