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Now that we have dabbled
with the understanding about where the genes of the Flood family had
come to be, possibly we can get some understanding of what motivated
them. The Isle of Wight being a melting pot of Vikings, Danes, Saxons
must have been influential to the development of their personalities. As
they became Christians, the old ways were put aside, not by just the
Floods, but by so many others as well.
For generations the Flood
men were named every other generation. John, Henry, back to John in the
next descendant and then back to Henry. This was broken in my husband's
generation. There have been no Henry in these. Rodney's father was John.
John's father was Henry. John Flood and his father, Henry, are buried at
the Blackwell cemetery. However, the elder John Flood, the one who lived
in England, is buried in the Nardin cemetery which is a small community
not too far from Blackwell, Oklahoma. The cemetery is a lovely place out
on the prairie. John Flood's marker is a large one of white marble. On
the front is a hand with a finger pointing toward the heavens.
As I stood looking down
at the marker, I wondered, “how many people buried on American soil like
this, came from another place and country.” Because this John Flood was
not an early immigrant but only two generations away his marker stands
today. There is nothing on it to tell of his homeland. We as family know
the trail that led him here and it is recorded by other family,
otherwise it would be forgotten and unknown, indeed, as the Bible makes
note, “They will no longer be remembered.”
With all the archives and
records of the government nothing can be kept as well as the family who
knows its own history and this reminds me a bit of my own family
history. We have a full Cherokee grandmother who was married to a Scot.
His name is recorded but her name was Cherokee and it isn't written on
the federal census archives. If we as a family didn't know the name Mary
Kell, Canoles, Ross our children wouldn't know of her either. So, back
to my original goal, and that is to encourage each family to keep their
own history. Do not worry about being criticized for sentence structure,
grammar or whatever. Write it down. Someone in your future will have the
opportunity to know about their ancestors and to understand what it was
that caused them to continue a good fight for what is life.
John Flood, my
father-in-law, had sisters. One of the sisters was Louise Flood. Louise
married Gilbert Smith. They lived in Cuba where Gilbert Smith's father
had lived. Here Rodney and I were, struggling along, going to college
together, when Aunt Louise came with her husband for a visit with John
and Wenona Flood. I immediately liked Louise and Gilbert. There was no
mistaking the quality of these people. John's sister was tall with dark
hair, and just generally a striking woman. She was quiet and listened to
every word spoken. After all the conversation died down she was there to
pick up some, strand of the talk and weave it into something of a rare
experience of her own. It might be an experience they had in China or
South America or some other country we didn't know. She might then
produce little gifts of rare beauty she had tucked away for us. Such a
rare piece like a piece of pottery made by “Maria,” or maybe something
of a lacquered bowl with 47 coats to make it have an unbelievable
finish.
Louise extended an
invitation for Rodney and me to come stay with them while we attended
the University of Havana. This was an opportunity to say the least. We
were to finish that year and come for the next school year. Of course,
everyone knows what happened to Cuba. Aunt Louise and Gilbert left their
beautiful home. All their China, clothing, furnishings were given up as
they fled in the dead of night. Louise said a car followed them to the
airport and she never knew if it was a friendly person escorting them or
otherwise. All was lost, along with our possibility of having the
advantage of a university degree out of Havana. No matter, it probably
wouldn't be recognized anyway at this time in history. Still education
is education and I for one, would have treasured the benefits of it.
This small connection for me has always remained as a quiet example of
how peaceful living can contribute to the progress of society.
Fighting through the
battles a mother has took all my strength. The time I spent in Christian
activities was all the education I would receive and that, of course,
was spotty. The research required for the tiny six minutes presentations
over the years did give me a way to continue with study and an ease to
speak before crowds. However, since our notes were not seen or critiqued
very little help was given on writing.
Nonetheless, I felt
strongly enough about documenting family history to go ahead and write
it down. One of the apostles made the statement that he was “unlettered
and slow of speech,” can't remember which one now? He must have been
effective though because look how that word was spread.In memory of Aunt
Louise and her loving wish to give me an education, I can only at this
late age, do nothing more than encourage each and every person, who has
experienced the same life and living as I have to make an effort to
record their own history. A mother and a father's role, so little
respected at times but can, like a tigress or a lion go ahead to do what
has to be done for their children so that they may see their ancestor's,
will and desire to work for a better world for their descendants. These
are the courageous stories that should be recorded, albeit, every “T” is
not crossed and every comma is not correct. |
