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Lorelei and I had the opportunity this week to join in a local march in support of refugees and immigrants.  This peaceful and patriotic event began in Market Square–Knoxville’s downtown gathering spot–with a silent vigil.  Then all of us–over 1,100 people, in the middle of a weekday!–marched to the City-County Building for a brief rally before a delegation carried letters opposing the President’s Executive Order to the lawmakers within.

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As we made the 25-minute drive from our home to downtown Knoxville, I made sure Lorelei understood what we were marching about.  We talked about the signs she had made and what they meant.  We talked about the Corporal and Spiritual Works of Mercy, and the Beatitudes, and the Sermon on the Mount.  I told her that when we turn away immigrants and refugees, we are turning away Christ.

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But we didn’t just talk about religion–we had a civics lesson too.  We talked about the principles our country is founded on, and how it isn’t unpatriotic to try to hold the country to those values.  We talked about the importance of letting our representatives know our position on this and other issues, and on how people coming together can bring about change.  I told her about Yassin Terou, a Syrian refugee who found success here as a restaurateur and has made it a point to give back to his adopted community.  We talked about the message on the Statue of Liberty and about the American dream.

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This wasn’t Lorelei’s first protest–she has taken part in many a March for Life–but this is the first time she knew what she was protesting.  She’s 12 years old, with little patience for or experience with being silent, but she made me proud.  She remained quiet, paid attention, liked pointing out all the signs (she was our sign-maker), and enjoyed the chanting we did at the end of the march.

Lorelei carried this sign:

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It was inspired by the lyrics of the Marty Haugen song.  It’s slightly heretical for singing in church in my opinion, but some of the words seemed tailor-made for this occasion:

Let us build a house where love can dwell
and all can safely live . . .
here the love of Christ shall end divisions.
All are welcome, all are welcome,
all are welcome in this place . . . 
Let us build a house where hands will reach
beyond the wood and stone
to heal and strengthen, serve and teach,
and live the Word they’ve known.
Here the outcast and the stranger
bear the image of God’s face;
let us bring an end to fear and danger.
All are welcome, all are welcome,
all are welcome in this place.

My favorite part of the gathering happened almost at the end, when we recited The New Colossus together.

The New Colossus

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,

With conquering limbs astride from land to land;

Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand

A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame

Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name

Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand

Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command

The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.

“Keep ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she

With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

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I can’t recite that under the most ordinary of circumstances without crying, and those were not ordinary circumstances.

After that, much of the crowd dispersed, chanting “This is what democracy looks like!” And it is.

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Protesting is as American as the Boston Tea Party.  The First Amendment to our Constitution includes the rights to speak freely, to assemble, and to petition our government for redress of grievances.  That sounds like a pretty good description of a protest march like the Women’s March in Knoxville which I attended today.

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Dictionary.com defines patriotism as “devoted love, support, and defense of one’s country; national loyalty.”  Today’s pre-march ceremony began with the Pledge of Allegiance.  Many marchers carried American flags.  (I heard one of them expressing concern about whether it was disrespectful that his flag was getting wet in the rain.)  

Can I rage for a second here?  Protesting is NOT whining, it’s NOT being a sore loser, and it’s certainly NOT unpatriotic.  People gather in peaceful protest BECAUSE they love this country, because they believe in its ideals, and because they want it to be better. (Our new President has spent the past two years talking about how terrible this country is and how we need him to make it great again.  Was that unpatriotic?)

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On January 27, 2017, pro-life marchers will gather in Washington to voice their disagreement with this country’s abortion laws.  These marchers want abortion legally banned.  They disagree with Federal, State, and local laws allowing abortion and deplore Supreme Court decisions which have upheld those laws.  They believe in the ideals of this great nation–the ones guaranteeing life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness–and that they should apply to everyone, born or unborn.  They think the United States of America can and should be better.

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I’ve participated in more local Marches for Life than I can recall.  I’ve slogged through rain and biting cold on behalf of the unborn.  (I’ve also marched against the death penalty, for what it’s worth.)  So I think that gives me the moral authority to tell you that the only difference between marching today and marching next weekend is what participants are protesting.

Women (and lots of men!) marched today to protest potential policies of the incoming administration, based upon the political promises of the President.  They marched for many reasons: for healthcare, for equal pay for equal work, for compassion toward immigrants and refugees.  And they also marched against things:  sexual assault, discrimination, prejudice, hatred.

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“Give him a chance,” people say.  “He hasn’t done anything yet.”  All the more reason for us to stand up now, before he has a chance to implement any policies, to assemble and use our right to speak freely and let him know how his proposals will grieve us!  Why wait to protest until after the fact?

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All I want to do right now is read the internet obsessively and get ready to watch election coverage.  But it’s NaBloPoMo, and I have to post something.  So I’ll do a quick Election Day photo essay!

Even though there was no school today, I got up relatively early, and got Lorelei and Emily up, hoping to get to the polls by ten.  We didn’t quite make that goal!  But at least we didn’t need to worry about crowds this time.  Unbeknownst to us, they split our precinct place and sent half the voters elsewhere (not our half, happily).  There was only a short line, although the workers said that it had been steady and was busy earlier with voters on the way to work.

Here are our happy post-voting pictures!

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Emily was away at college for the last election and didn’t get her absentee ballot in time, so this was her first vote for President.  Lorelei is still a bit young, but I let her push the button.

And here I am, rocking my “pantsuit.”

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I got the idea online to go on a field trip to the Women’s Suffrage Memorial, located downtown in Market Square.  We found a parking place and I even managed to parallel park!

Then we went to lunch at Pete’s (a downtown institution, where the girls had never been), and then to Krispy Kreme for our free doughnuts!

Since then I’ve been glued to my computer and I’m getting ready to be glued to the t.v.  We have snacks and pink champagne and we are going to have a little party. 🙂

And tomorrow, one way or another, life goes on, and maybe I will be able to concentrate on working again!

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As y’all know by now, I’m a US Family Guide blogger, which means occasionally I share offers for admission to attractions with you, then visit the attractions and honestly review them in this space.  In return, I get free tickets for me and my family.  Today I am sharing an attraction that I already know you’ll enjoy because I’ve visited it before.  Here’s what they’ve asked me to share with you:

Oakes Farm is the place to experience an amazing corn maze, a delightful pumpkin patch, an old-fashioned hayride, and lots more! Fall is simply fantastic at Oakes Farm … so, join us for a day that will provide a lifetime of memories! We’re becoming famous for our amazing corn mazes, which are works of art when viewed from above (of course, we have pictures) and challenging, life-size puzzles when you’re inside them.

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General Admission includes admission to the “Back 40” and a hayride. The “Back 40” includes over 25 fun attractions! A Giant 9 Acre Professionally Designed Corn Maze, Giant Slide, Bouncing Pillow, Kids’ Corn Maze, Pedal Karts, Giant Sand Play Area And much more! Fun for all ages and any occasion including groups, field trips and birthday parties!

SAMSUNG

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Located about 12 miles north of Knoxville, TN, Oakes Farm is a wonderful place for both the young and the young-at-heart to enjoy a truly unique outdoor experience at a very affordable price.

And guess what!  My readers get to save on your visit! $1 off General Admission – to Oakes Farm Tennessee Corn Maze! Valid for up to 19 guests!  Just click the link below for your coupon:
Oakes Farm Coupon for readers of Life in Every Limb

Hope to see you there!  And be sure to check back in a few weeks for my review, which will include lots and lots of pictures!

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Wow, y’all.  If you are interested in history you really need to visit Lebanon in the Forks Presbyterian Cemetery.  Honestly, my visit left me a little awestruck.

But let me back up.  Emily and I went walking Saturday, as we are wont to do.  We picked our destination off a list of Knoxville Greenways, and ended up on the Holston River Greenway, which we had not visited in years.  My pictures from our walk will probably turn up in another blog post, but it’s not a super-long trail and we weren’t ready to go home when we finished walking, so we decided to drive around for a bit.

Now, I’ve lived in Northwest Knoxville, West Knoxville, South Knoxville, North Knoxville, and now Northwest Knox County, but never in East Knoxville.  So this is always a fun area for me to explore.  And as we drove I remembered that I’d seen a cool old cemetery somewhere across Boyds Bridge.

We found it on Asbury Road, right at what signs warn drivers is a “non-negotiable turn,” which also happens to be right at the Forks of the River (where the Tennessee splits into the Holston and French Broad, for those who don’t know).  Lebanon in the Fork is what it’s called, and it lays claim to the title of oldest cemetery in the county.

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The church that once stood there is gone now–burned in a 1981 fire–but its predecessor was built on this site before Tennessee was even a state (1793).  And people were being buried here before then–trappers, hunters, and soldiers–although their graves are unmarked.

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Mrs. Elizabeth Carrick’s grave is marked, though–and hers is the oldest marked grave in the county.  According to an 1875 history of the church penned by Dr. J.G. M. Ramsey:

Among the first Christian interments here was that of Mrs. Carrick.  It occurred on the day of the contemplated attack upon the infant Knoxville by the Indians, Sept., 1793.  All the inhabitants who would bear arms had gone to its defense, and relations and remains of Mrs. Carrick were brought down in a canoe, on the Holston River and deposited in the church yard, attended and buried by women only.

Another grave of note is that of Francis Alexander Ramsey, father of the aforementioned historian, builder of Ramsey House, and Tennessee–or should I say FRANKLIN–statesman.

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Inscription on Ramsey’s grave

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Ramsey’s grave from the side, showing his wife’s inscription

The cemetery is overflowing with Ramseys, actually, including the historian, as well as quite a few McNutts, some Dicksons, and many other interrelated families.  The last burial here took place in 1976, but the majority were during the 1800s.

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There are a number of epitaphs that I’m sure would be delightful, but they are just too old to read.  There are also some unique carvings.

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We’ve got war heroes here from three separate conflicts.  The Ramseys’ Confederate sympathies landed them in deep trouble, according to the histories I consulted.

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I don’t know the story of the fellow buried below, but I’m imagining that he died as a victim of the Gold Rush.

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I’m not going to waste too much time complaining about the condition of a 200 year old graveyard that hasn’t seen active use in a hundred years, but I really wouldn’t need to anyway because this place is mostly in great shape.  There are a few overgrown graves and the steps that once led into the cemetery are impassable (but they’d be inaccessible at this point anyway), but over all this graveyard is being well cared for.

There is no fence around the churchyard, which is surrounded on all sides by property belonging to the quarrying operation further up Asbury Road, but there are obstacles in place should you try to wander too far:

 

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Dr. Ramsey’s history describes the site like this:  “[T]he site for the church edifice was an eminence in the center of a beautiful grove of cedars and other trees, covered by vines forming a dense arbor and a shady bower which excluded the sun.”

At least one of those cedars still stands, and the eminence on which the graveyard sits makes for some impressive views.

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This is just a lovely cemetery that anyone with an interest in Knoxville history will enjoy.

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I know that Fall won’t end officially for another month.  But let’s face it, the best part of it is over.  There are no more beautiful leaves on the trees and everyone is thinking about Christmas.

Every day (almost) since the first day of Autumn, I’ve made a picture to share on my blog using my own photographs and suitable quotations.  Just as I did earlier this year with my Spring quote pictures, I thought it would be nice to put them all together in one post along with a little information about each of them.

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October 2014, Holloway Cemetery, Knoxville.

“Autumn flings her fiery cloak over the sumac, beech and oak.” ― Susan Lendroth

October 2015, Island Home Park, Knoxville.

“Autumn is my spring!” ― August Strindberg

October 2015, Notre Dame University.

“In Heaven, it is always Autumn-.” ― John Donne

October 2014, Holloway Cemetery.

“Take heart and dive into the quiet maturity of autumn.” ― Kristian Goldmund Aumann

October 2015, Holloway Cemetery.

“the fallen leaves in the forest seemed to make even the ground glow and burn with light” ― Malcolm Lowry

October 2015, Victor Ashe Trail, South Knoxville Urban Wilderness.

 

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October 2014, Meads Quarry, Knoxville.

Are we not better and at homeIn dreamful Autumn-- Ernes Dowson

October 2014, Woodlawn Cemetery, Knoxville.

Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.- Albert Camus

October 2014, Ijams Nature Center, Knoxville.

Autumn is Nature's last party of the year.- Deborah Walsh

Fall 2014, Forks of the River Wildlife Management Area, South Knoxville Urban Wilderness.

Be like autumn leaves which follow exactly the rhythm of the wind!― Mehmet Murat Ildan

October 2014, Holloway Cemetery.

Beauty for some provides escape, who gain a happiness in eyeing Autumn sunsets exquisitely dying. – Langston Hughes

September 2011, my back deck, Knoxville.

Change is a measure of time and, in the autumn, time seems speeded up. What was is not and never again will be; what is is change.- Edwin Teale

Fall 2014, First Creek, Knoxville.

Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.

October 2014, Meads Quarry.

Falling leaves hide the path so quietly. – John Bailey

Fall 2014, Campus of Knoxville Catholic High School.

In October any wonderful unexpected thing might be possible. - Elizabeth George Speare

October 2014, Forks of the River.

It looked like the world was covered in a cobbler crust of brown sugar and cinnamon. ― Sarah Addison Allen

October 2014, Meads Quarry.

It's so strange that autumn is beautiful, yet everything is dying.- Unknown

October 2014, Holloway Cemetery.

No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace, as I have seen in one autumnal face. - John Donne

September 2015, Will Skelton Greenway, Knoxville.

October proved a riot to the senses . . ..- Keith Donohue

October 2014, Ijams Nature Center.

October, baptize me with leaves!- Rainbow Rowell

October 2014, Ijams Nature Center, Knoxville.

Once more the liberal year laughs out O'er richer stores than gems or gold- Once more with harvest song and shout Is nature's boldest triumph told.John Greenleaf Whittier

November 2012, Krutch Park, Downtown Knoxville.

Sweet and smiling are thy ways,Beauteous, golden Autumn days.- Will Carleton

October 2014, Will Skelton Greenway.

The earth has now fulfilled its design for this year, and is going to repose for a short time.-Christoph Christian Sturm

October 2014, Will Skelton Greenway.

The leaves as they spark into wild color just before they die are the world's oldest performance art.- Shauna Niequist

October 2014, Meads Quarry.

The magic of autumn has seized the countryside.- Elizabeth Coatsworth

October 2014, Ijams Nature Center.

The October sun filled the world with mellow warmth...- Elizabeth George Speare

October 2014, Forks of the River.

The twilight of the year is sweet-Where shadow and the darkness meet . . .- Ernest Dowson

October 2014, Stanton Cemetery, Meads Quarry.

The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop away from you like the leaves of Autumn.John Muir

Fall 2013.

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October 2014, across the road from Byrd’s Chapel Cemetery, Knoxville.

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October 2014, Holloway Cemetery.

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October 2014.

It was fun–sometimes challenging–creating these.  I hope you enjoy this look back at Fall, a season that always seems to pass too quickly.

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You can never go home again, but the truth is you can never leave home, so it’s all right.
– Maya Angelou 

You can’t go home again isn’t just metaphorical for many people.  The first home I ever knew–the married student housing apartments where I lived with my parents until I was four years old–was demolished not long ago to make way for intramural sports fields.  The last home I lived in was burned nearly to the ground, destroying almost everything we owned.

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At this time of year, hearts turn toward home, and I am no different–but I find myself longing for places that are no longer available.  I was fortunate to live in the same neighborhood for most of my childhood.  My closest cousins and my maternal grandmother lived there too, and my paternal grandmother lived across town.  Holidays followed a predictable, safe pattern:  Thanksgiving lunch at Mima’s and supper at Granny’s, then Christmas morning at Mima’s and Christmas afternoon at Granny’s.  That was the way it was for 22 years, until divorces and deaths intervened.   Until recently, one childhood house remained:  my mother had been living in her mother’s old house.  When she sold it earlier this year, the last link remaining to that childhood stability was gone.

As the oldest in my family of birth and the first one to have a family of my own, providing a home for the holidays has most often fallen to me, and I hope that my children have fond memories of those days even though the places and patterns have shifted over time.  My favorite adult holiday memories took place in the Victorian house where we lived for eight years.  Despite its somewhat decrepit condition with its large formal spaces it was ideal for entertaining.  It was the house for which we collected not-quite-antique furniture, piece by piece, the one we decorated with portraits of our children and religious icons.  To me it was my dream house, and when we had to move out for financial reasons I was devastated.  No house has really felt like home to me since.

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For the two years after that, we were renting a house that never felt comfortable or safe.  Part of that, I think, was because it was not really ours and we weren’t sure how long we would be able to stay there.  When it burned down, destroying everything, it was the completion of the loss that began with our move.

Since that happened four years ago, I feel I have been trying to regain a sense of home.  We are still renting, but we have plans to buy the house we have lived in since just a few weeks after the fire.  I have started gardening again, putting down literal roots.  But I struggle with decorating, acquiring knickknacks, hanging pictures, really committing.

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Almost everything in the house–right down to the dishes we eat from and the sheets on the beds–was given to us.  We are surrounded by reminders of the love of the people in our various communities every day.

And that’s part of what made me realize that to me, home has come to mean something other than a house.  When I think of home, I think of Knoxville, my hometown, where I have spent all but five years of my life, the place where I was married and where all my babies were born.  Whenever I return from a vacation, my heart feels a little lighter as soon as I cross the Tennessee line.  The road sign that reads Knoxville – 12 miles always lifts my spirits.  And probably the most welcoming sight in the world to me is the Knoxville skyline, with my own parish church at the very front, visible on the interstate as we drive through town.

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My roots in this town are deep–my father’s people have lived in this area since the 1700s.  Even though my husband has only lived here 25 years, he has put down roots as well.  I may not know in what house we will be celebrating the holidays five or ten or twenty years from now, but I know the party will be in Knoxville, my forever home.

Home to Me

This post is part of the “Home to Me” blog hop, hosted by Julie Walsh of These Walls. During the two weeks from Friday, November 13 through Thanksgiving Day, more than a dozen bloggers will share about what the concept of “home” means to them. “Home” can been elusive or steady. It can be found in unexpected places. It is sought and cherished and mourned. It is wrapped up in the people we love. As we turn our minds and hearts toward home at the beginning of this holiday season, please visit the following blogs to explore where/what/who is “Home to Me.”

November 13 – Julie @ These Walls

November 14 – Leslie @ Life in Every Limb

November 15 – Ashley @ Narrative Heiress

November 16 – Rita @ Open Window

November 17 – Svenja, guest posting @ These Walls

November 18 – Anna @ The Heart’s Overflow

November 19 – Debbie @ Saints 365

November 20 – Melissa @ Stories My Children Are Tired of Hearing

November 21 – Amanda @ In Earthen Vessels

November 22 – Daja and Kristina @ The Provision Room

November 23 – Emily @ Raising Barnes

November 24 – Annie @ Catholic Wife, Catholic Life

November 25 – Nell @ Whole Parenting Family

November 26 – Geena @ Love the Harringtons

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