My great-grandmother Alma used to tell me stories of her grandfather, Wendel Boyd Taylor, fighting in the war. She spoke of how he lived in muddy trenches, was always sick, scared, hungry, and how artillery would fall all day and night. I picked up on these stories bit by bit when I was little, but when my great-grandmother passed away at the age of 92 in 2008, my connections to those stories passed with her. It was only when I started doing ancestry research in 2015 that I made a startling discovery. I had always assumed that the “war” my great-grandmother spoke of was World War I. But when I finally made the connection that my grandmother had been born in 1915, meaning that her grandfather would have been too old to fight in the Great War! Grandfather Taylor fought in the Civil War, serving in the 37th Alabama Infantry. This unit would serve on the front lines at the Battle of Vicksburg, an infamous campaign that was a turning point during the conflict. It was fought primarily from trenches along the banks of the Mississippi River. He was wounded during one of the large-scale infantry attacks in the summer of 1863 and was taken prisoner when the garrison was captured by the Federal Army on July 4th, 1863. I had never made the connection when hearing those stories from Alma, and now she is gone. Not only is she gone, but her entire generation has all but passed from this earth. Taking with it its memories, wisdom, and stories.
This past Friday, our church paid tribute to the lives of two beloved members, Bob and Barbara Chesnut. Barbara passed away in 2023, and we lost Bob in December 2025. Robert Chesnut was a loyal attendee of my Adult Bible Study and men’s coffee group that meets on Thursdays. Sitting and listening to his stories was a highlight of my week. Bob was born in 1927 and served as part of the occupation forces in Japan following World War II. He had been raised during the Great Depression, and his stories reflected wisdom from a time that has long passed us by. His passing once again reminded me how much of a blessing it is to learn from the past experiences of others, and to learn from those who have endured much so that life might be better for the rest of us. My children will never personally know anyone who served in World War II or lived through the Great Depression. Just like my grandmother Alma’s generation was the last to know those who endured the Civil War. So, what am I trying to say through all this?
The Book of Leviticus states, “You shall stand up before the gray head and honor the face of an old man, and you shall fear your God: I am the Lord.” The ability to sit and listen to the wisdom of those beyond our own years is a blessing. It allows us to connect to past events and places that have long since passed from the minds of the present. It also allows us to glean lessons from the past so we might not make the same mistakes in the future. How I wish I could talk to my great-grandmother once again, just for a few hours. Let us not forsake the time we have to learn from our elders in this present moment. Someday their voices, even our own voices, will have gone on to glory. God has given us the present to learn from each other, if we would only just stop and listen.
