We was one of them tarnished families that only stepped foot inside a church for funerals and weddin’s. Mamma roped us into goin’ to Easter service a few times, but Daddy changed all that when he tried to hoist himself up them impossible stairs and took to cussin’. Her face was every color of red when he started hollerin’, finally tumblin’ to the ground and then drivin’ off, leavin’ her to get a ride with the Cooks, while I went on and walked home.
Silas Putnam ~ 1872
Etched in Granite Book One
Sometimes, I realize that Silas and August can get lost. In these stories, all characters matter. They are the voices of those silenced and lost in time as they faced social death, and we (future generations) experience historical amnesia. Often, people mention Silas to me... some express genuine curiosity. Others are frustrated and choose sides, which is not uncommon in human awareness. Silas presents his own struggles, which may seem unique, but if you pause and ponder, you may see that he is in all of us. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~