
Here is the mountain view from my future retirement house in Bryson City, NC. My grandfather bought this land in the 1930s and passed it to his children. I bought my Mom’s house in 2009 and will get to retire here in a couple years. I got to thinking about families who have been on their land for a long time and how you can just feel their presence. So that inspired the story poem below. At the bottom of the page are more shots of our property. All photos by Doug DeMoss.
Welcome Home, Rosalie
I was born here
In a rough cabin knocked together
Cold wind screeching through
But my mother kept me warm and safe
In these mountains all her days
My children ran through these hills
We sweated the fields and hunted the ridges.
We struggled but we thrived
When my end came they gathered round to say goodbye
And my soul rushed away, content.
I came back to visit often
Watching over them as they laughed and cried
Until they joined me, one by one
Now there are no tears.
The cabins are fancy now
The mules gave way to “cars”
The way of life changed as I watched
And before long my great-grandchildren met me.
Now another Rosalie has arrived
Named after me, my daughter, and many other kin
She walks through these hills, not exactly knowing
But feeling all of us as we walk beside her
She can sense but not see
Our hands on her shoulders as we welcome her home



How wonderful to have such roots.
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I am very appreciative. My grandfather managed to get a loan and work off the debt on his land at a time when few farmers owned their homes. From what I understand he worked his tail off to do it, farming and logging both. When I looked him up on ancestry.com, they even made a note in his story that he was listed as a home owner in the 1940 census and it was quite an accomplishment to own your own home back then.
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What a legacy. How blessed that his life’s work is met with gratitude.
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Beautiful words and pictures. While I lack the physical legacy you enjoy, I have always felt a spiritual kindred with these mountains that was only realized when I moved to the Asheville area two years ago — a forty year dream.
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I know exactly what you mean. This place calls to you.
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Such a beautiful story poem. It brought a big lump to my throat. You must be eager to move back to your mom’s house. What an incredibly beautiful spot.
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Thanks so much Liz. It is an honor getting praise from talented writers like you and Gail. Now I have a lump in my throat!
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You’re so welcome, Bonnie! š
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Lovely memories and pictures.
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Wow, Bonnie, what a beautiful and amazing place and legacy. Even more amazing is your poem that gives us such a rich and in-depth look into your ancestry, life years ago, and your loving memories in so few words. I do not often read poetry, and I read yours several times to absorb it all. Thank you for sharing!
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Thanks! I think my writing is better when I deeply care about the subject.
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Beautiful words, beautiful pictures. Memories of sitting on the porch and listening to Uncle Ed and Uncle Carl share their stories . Good times
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Thanks Gail! We have a storytelling legacy for sure. Iām hoping you all come down and visit after I retire.
FYI everyone GAZ or Gail is my sister.
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What a fabulous and beautiful place to retire!!
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Thanks! We really love it!
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Wow! So beautifully written a story in poem ! Well shared thank you ššš
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Thank you so much!
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You are welcome ššš¤
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