|Since the beginning of time, men, women and children have been migrating, with the movement usually south or west.I am now a part of what is the last great migration.Yet this migration was different.This was no organized movements of tribes, nations, or conquering armies: it was a migration of individuals, each making their own decision, and gathering their own supplies and equipment.From a thousand villages and cities, they came or were brought.Strangers to each other, yet with a common goal.|
Over the mountians from the coastal provinces, filtering down the slopes, floating down rivers, some dying, some living, many killed by man or beast, but the dead were always replaced by others.There was no end to them.Once a man, woman or child made that first move, once they cast off their moorings, their associations, broken with thier schools, their church, the village store, and relatives, it was easy to continue on.It is always easier to travel than to stop.As long as one travels toward the promised land, the dream is there.
Peace be with us all.
James D. Butler
December 16, 2001