After green eggs and ham for breakfast, my daughter, Hanah, her children, Sergay and Liza, and I took a brisk, windy walk on the Kings Mountain Battleground. We saw the Judas tree in purple bud (the tree that betrays the spring, also called The Red Bud) near the summit. This is Sergay's birthday tree. Hanah walked this trail in her childhood. I also walked this trail in my childhood when we took rocks to place on the cairn of Patrick Ferguson. This is now forbidden as it is considered disrespectful. Now his last words of farewell to his friends and followers," I have gone to the warmer place" are heart breaking as are the so familiar names on the monument of the dead and wounded. These are the names of the nearby towns and counties, the people who live now in our communities, our ancestors, our flesh and blood.
After the battle, there were so many bodies of the dead in shallow graves, that packs of wolves roamed the mountain for years. eating the remains.
Now there are children's summer camps nearby on this mountain. My brother and I went as children, as did my children and his children and now their children.
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