My Great-great Grandfather Jemison (1834-1891)
The first of the family line with my name. As you can tell from the uniform, he was a major in the Confederate Army. He was wounded in the battle of Chickamagua.

On the other side of my family, I can trace all the way back to a woman named Nancy Greyhawk. She was the niece of the king of the Natchez Creek Indian tribe. A full-blooded Creek Indian woman. I don't have a picture of her, but I bet she was one tough momma. In the 70's, I received some money from the federal government for treaties broken with the Creek nation. It wasn't much.

So my family has deep roots in the South. My ancestors ran half-naked through these woods many years ago. It shouldn't surprise anyone that the tradition continues...


Now that I put these two pictures up, I can see the connection; the genetic thread spanning the years from horse and buggy to spacesuits. It's the eyes. The eyes of my great-great grandfather that saw the gore and horror of the Civil War. The eyes of my daughter that shine with total innocence and promise of new life. Actors on the stage of life--some playing bit roles until the cast changes and the children become the adults and the adults become dust. The characters change but the play continues...