In 1895 my Great Grandfather set up their homestead near Umpire Arkansas. The house still stands where ten children were raised and traditions were born. Every year our large, extended family gathers to reunite, a tradition that survives despite the loss of the Great Grandparents and now their ten children who are no longer with us. Yet the family has been in this part of Arkansas for far longer than 1895.
This is my family, can you see me? I'm not the photographer in this shot. These are all cousins and in many cousins they'd probably be distant cousins that you don't know, but not in the Manasco family. The families are composed of my Father's first cousins and their children and grandchildren
In one cemetery down the road the first Sunday services are held. This cemetery contains many of my ancestors. My Great Great Grandparents are pictured here, the father and mother of Rufus Manasco my Great Grandfather, who is also buried in this cemetery. Photographs are important, I've visited the graves but it was my first time to see this image of these people who are my Great, Great Grandparents.
This is the dusty road that many people traveled down to see my Great Grandfather Rufus who was Justice of the Peace from the time he was 18 and until his death.
They farmed and settled in this beautiful Arkansas landscape, with the Ouachitas next to them.
The Cossatat River was flowing. It was full, normally we go wade and play in this river. I imagine my Grandmother took my Father here when he was a child to play in the Cossatot.
As I think about the "why" of photography, it seems that our photography is often geared towards our children and a lot of times as we age we no longer want to see the reflection in the mirror because we desire our young "self" --- yet, the photos I value of are those who I've lost. Those photos of that friend who is no longer there, my Grandmother, all I have left of some people are those few images. So, when at family gatherings I try to capture those images of the adults, the elderly and the children.
Cousins playing under the old trees. I imagine my Grandmother and her siblings playing under the tree. I imagine my father played under this same tree with his cousins as a child in the 1940s.
We all sit under the old porch and eat our Sunday meal.
Catching up with family. With Facebook there isn't always as much catching up, I guess it kind of ruins it. I remember my first few years going to the reunion the porch was always filled with scattered albums of photos telling the stories of people's years. The porch isnt' filled with photo albums now, it's filled with us on our smart phones looking for some 3G signals.
We all gather in Arkansas, so we can attend First Sunday Services at Bethel Cemetery.
To remember our ancestors. To know they congregated here at their greatest sorrows a century ago. To know that we still remember them, we remember where we came from.
And we will again next year at our Manasco reunion in Umpire.
Great Grandfather Rufus Manasco with his parents behind him.
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