In the Spirit of St. Patty's

Well, as most of you know, I am Native American. In the spirit of today, I thought that I would tell a story about the other side, the Irish side to be exact.

Hehmmm (clearing throat)... Once upon a time, there lived a family called the McNeese clan. Well the McNeeses had a terrible run of luck. You see, the McNabbs decided that they didn't like the McNeeses anymore and almost killed them all. There was just a precious few who escaped and went under the protection of the McGregor clan neighboring nearby.

Later, in 1650, the McNeese family, the Causey family, and the Phouts or Fouts, they spelled it to different ways, couldn't make up their mind I guess. Moving on, they all got on a boat. That's right, they were on a boat!!! (Great song by the way). They sailed the ocean blue and landed in Pennsylvania and with grants from the King of England, settling in Virginia and Alabama. My British ancestors, the Lees, were already settled in both.

Well the ones who settled in Alabama did so in a little town called Seal. Seal just so happen to inhabited with Natives, that is where they other side comes in. Anyway. For generations and centuries to come, my family ran the towns of Seal, Dothan, Baker Hill, and White Pond. My family owned the Mill, the timber, the acreage where the food was grown, and of course the grocery store. (It was smaller than my garage.)

Unfortunately I do not have a picture of any of them on hand, except for my British ancestors.

These were the last to live on our ancestral land. To the far left is Daddy Lee and his wife Mama Lee with one of their granddaughters (my second cousin). I bet you were wondering how that worked.

The middle picture is my great grandmother, the Lee's oldest daughter. She lived until she was just shy of 98. I was fourteen when she died and consider it a real pleasure that I knew her. The far right picture is Daddy Lee again with his father.

This past weekend, when I was visiting with my grandmother, I was able to look at some pictures that she had stored away. They were pictures of people that I had never seen in my life, but had always heard stories about them. It is really neat I think to be able to know where you come from.

Thanks to my mother and her genealogical genius, I do.

So, in spirit of my family history... Happy St. Patrick's Day. Now, where is my drink!