Newsletter: July 4th Parade

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July 4th Parade


As I've mentioned before, I'm a member of the Daughters of the American Revolution. I have many patriot ancestors, two of whom are on my Woolsey line. Daniel Woolsey was the great-grandfather of Richard Woolsey from my book "His Greatest Regret," and Daniel's father Henry—both served together side by side in the American Revolution. You'll learn a bit more about this in the next book about Richard's son, William.

Families are messy. Richard was the broken link in this family line. He descended from two amazing men who were patriots, then Richard somehow avoided the Civil War, even though he was of the optimal age to serve, likely in the Union since he lived in Indiana. He left behind a son he never knew. However, when you go back beyond Richard, you have men who were patriots, well-established family men, and so on.

Someday I will write about Daniel and Henry Woolsey as well, but I'm still in the process of gathering information about their lives, which is not an easy task. As you can imagine, records from that time period are limited.

Anyway, being in the parade was amazing. Our town showed up to support all the groups in the parade. Lots of smiles and waves as we went by.

Yes, I was riding in the side-by-side instead of walking with the rest of the group. I had an accident the day before with the dogs. Our German Shorthair and our daughter's Labradoodle were entangled in a playful brawl, running around the corner of the house. I was at the back with the weed eater. I was the bowling pin; they became the bowling ball. They hit a strike and I found myself on the ground. My husband said I was crying. Well, it hurt! I've strained or torn a calf muscle, so now I'm resting my leg and—hey, why not catch up on my writing, right?

Anyway, my husband was driving the side-by-side, pulling the trailer for the rest of the ladies who are unable to walk. I've got an amazing man. He got the trailer there early and helped us decorate it. This was my first year with the DAR, but I've already been mulling over ideas to make this better next year.


The sequel to A Mother's Last Gift

Richard Woolsey tried — he really did — to be the father his children needed. He even married again, hoping to build a family with her children and his. But after his beloved Alice died, nothing he did seemed right anymore. His only way of coping was to keep running — chasing happiness and wealth, catching fleeting moments of both, only to lose them and set off searching again.

Other books you may enjoy.

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