Transition Generation

Time seems to have stood still in Junction, Texas, a small town on the western edge of the Hill Country that's billed as the“Front Porch of the West.” In spite of noticing modern amenities such as a Cellular One office and a DVD rental store as we drive along Main Street in search of lunch, I feel as if I am ten years old again, passing through similar towns in eastern New Mexico half a century ago.

Gazing at the early twentieth century architecture, I realize I was born at a junction in time, in a sort of transition generation. Those of us born before the Baby Boom have some degree of working knowledge of things like garden hoes, wood cook stoves, hand pumped water and clotheslines. Even things we didn’t experience directly, like horses and buggies or root cellars, seem familiar, because we heard our grandparents speak of them, or read about them in books.

My thoughts flash forward to the noisy, battery-powered toy world of my toddling granddaughter, who holds any small flat object to her ear and says “Hello ...” just like the adults around her. I know and understand the front edge of her world at the same time I remember the older one. Unless I record stories of an earlier age for her, she may never know them at all.

This is my calling, I think, to build a bridge of life stories and family history linking previous generations with those who come after me, and to encourage others to join me in this endeavor. They need to hear these stories that only you and I can tell. This is my legacy. What legacy are you leaving?

Write on,

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal

Countdown: 66 days until the release of The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing on July 1. Stay tuned for ordering details.

1 comment :

Sally J. said...

I'm so happy I found your blog. What a treasure! I can't wait until I have time to read all your earlier posts.

One of the greatest gifts you can leave your children and grandchildren is your stories, written down so they will never be lost to time.

"The shortest pencil is better than the longest memory."

Sally J.
The Practical Archivist