I took my camera out today and decided to take you to the Mendota Cemetery. Over a century ago, the Hamilton family donated this land as a cemetery for our community.    I love this place. My father died when I was barely 16, and I found peace walking up the hill to visit with him. When I got my driver’s license, it was one of the first places I visited…on foot.  I could not wait to show him my license. The Mendota Cemetery sits on a hill, and as you top the hill you’re greeted by a magnificant tree. I can see mother and daddy’s graves in this picture.

Old boxwoods planted generations ago…

A restful place.

The road goes in a circle.  The grass is tall today, because we have been receiving so much rain.

Ahh…there’s our mountain in the horizon.   Are you a mountain person or a water person?  I’m a mountain person.  I never feel safe unless Clinch Mountain is at my back.

Here’s my car, Cracker, recovering from her dog bite which you can learn about here.  (A dog actually bit my car and pulled the back fender out before she was two weeks old. Crazy.)

And look at this…James Stickley. James was in the Virginia Infantry for the Confederate States of America. He survived that war, and it looks like he lived to be about 80. The Civil War…what I was taught to call “the late unpleasantness” by a teacher in the little school at the bottom of this hill.

Maintaining this cemetery is important. It’s a cemetery that continues to serve the families in the Mendota area with our time-honored practice of never charging a family in need.   It’s not just a Southern thing.  It’s a Mendota thing.  It’s a Poor Valley thing…an Appalachian thing.   We respect our heritage and those who rest in this quiet place on the hill.