Echoes of the Past: Franklin County Honors and Remembers the Trail of Tears
- Terri Carter
- 3 days ago
- 6 min read
The Franklin County Public Library honored a piece of history last week as they hosted their annual Trail of Tears event. Starting at 11:45 a.m. on Saturday, community residents were invited to the Old Cowan Road Park to participate in a ceremony, walk a small portion of the Trail of Tears route, indulge in a traditional Indigenous dish, and learn about the history of the Cherokee people from a local guest speaker.
The event began at the Old Cowan Road Park where community members gathered together to begin their walk down a piece of the trail. Before beginning the journey, participants were offered a traditional smudging as the sounds of a Native American tuned was played, followed by the singing of Amazing Grace in the Cherokee language, and then in English. Local Cherokee, Bude Van Dyke, then lead the group in a Cherokee prayer.
Van Dyke invited each attendee to turn and face the cardinal directions—north, south, east and west—along with looking upward, downward and center, as he offered a prayer of blessings to each. During the ceremony, he gave back to the earth using a sacred strain of corn passed down through generations, descended from the corn carried by Indigenous people during the 1838 Trail of Tears. The corn came from Van Dyke’s own Cherokee healing garden, located in Decatur, Alabama, adding a deeply personal and symbolic layer to the moment.
After participants had been smudged and participated in the prayer, they began their walk from the park to the library, escorted by the Winchester City Police Department. With a Cherokee voice singing in native tongue, the residents slowly walked just under a mile, offering honor and remembrance with every step.
Once attendees reached the library, they found additional opportunities to explore and learn about the history of the Trail of Tears. Franklin County native Jordan Ashley, known as “The Atlatl Guy,” along with his father, had set up an educational display and live demonstration. The pair introduced visitors to the atlatl—a prehistoric hunting tool that predates the bow and arrow—and explained its historical significance and mechanics. Guests were invited to try their hand at throwing the weapon, adding an interactive and memorable element to the day’s events.
In the basement of the library, the smell of traditional fry bread filled the room as it was being fried in real time and offered to those who wanted to try the traditional dish. After lunch was served, Van Dyke shared his story of his family’s people and his journey to center.
He explained that a few years before the War of 1812, his mother’s family left their familiar lands for what is now called North Carolina after hearing about the attacks by American soldiers on the Indigenous people. The Cherokee people had traveled back and forth from, what was then known as Mexico, for centuries, and Van Dyke’s family started their route with other Cherokee and Choctaw people. They settled in a land between two rivers. One river was the Trinity River that was situated North of modern-day Dallas, Texas. While Texas was still Mexico territory at the time, the Mexican government allowed the people to settle there, hoping for the people to act as a buffer between Mexico and the encroaching American government.
Van Dyke stated that after Texas’ statehood, many Cherokee and Choctaw refugees who had fled to the region were rounded up by the United States Calvary and sent to the reservation in Oklahoma. Others evaded discovery and moved into Mexico as we know it today, beyond the Red River.
“I mention this history because it’s more or less lost in the general knowledge about my people.”, said Van Dyke. “There are those who did not walk the Trail of Tears and left decades earlier because of the reports they had heard. Also, there were those who succeeded in hiding in caves in Tennessee and North Carolina, eventually forming the Eastern band. But my people, who left early and never went to the reservation, are not federally recognized. Officially, we do not exist.”
“So, each of us has to find a way to reconcile our history and come to center, to the sacred fire, in order to know who we are.”
Van Dyke explained that what his people do hold close are the stories and bits of history that are passed down through generations. His mother, who was turning 95 years old on the day of the event, had to hide her identity to avoid being forced into Indigenous boarding schools.
“In case you don’t know the history, Indigenous boarding schools were designed to carry out the Indian Bureau Mandate, to kill the Indian and save the child, by forcing them to assimilate to the dominant culture norms.”, stated the Cherokee.
He went on to say that the Indigenous people who arrived at the boarding schools were forced to cut their hair, were not allowed to wear any of their customary clothing, and the majority of them never got to go back home. The last boarding school was not closed until 1969.
His great-grandmother on his mother’s side of his family carried on a traditional Cherokee existence as well as she could, without drawing attention to herself. He stated that the history was to be passed within the family, not to be shared, and carried generational shame. It was such a guarded secret that it was hidden from even him until he was able to overcome alcoholism, when his mother finally felt safe enough to share with him his heritage and family’s history.
“That’s when my mom began to share her story and the family history.”, said Van Dyke. “This new awareness became the ground under my feet to help me on the red road to sobriety. The more I learned, the more I practiced the rituals, the more solid my recovery grew.”
Van Dyke, who is also a minister, stated that he has learned, through various teachers and his own evolving intuition, that the Cherokee traditions he practices do not contradict Christianity, but rather compliment it, and the lessons he had learned through his heritage were also what ultimately encouraged him to attend seminary.
At his closing, he encouraged the attendees to have an open mind and hold open the possibility that there are at least two different ways to look at life. One is linear, or a straight line, meaning that life is always going forward and the future is traveling farther and farther away from the past, and, due to their difference of opinion, the hope of their reconciliation ultimately depends on the destruction of one of the other. It’s a “winner takes all” position.
The other perspective, looking at the line from above or below and not from besides, it’s entirely possible that the straight line forms an arc, indicating that the ends eventually will meet again at some point.
“That is the circle of life that comprises ancient, Indigenous wisdom.”, said Van Dyke. “An old teacher asked me one time if I would rather be right or if I would rather be true. I instinctively chose true. A straight-line perspective gives me only right or wrong. A circle of life perspective gives me true. An old Cherokee proverb tells us that you’re only lost when you impose time on a situation.”
The Trail of Tears community event offered more than a history lesson by creating a sacred space for reflection, connection, and healing. Through storytelling, prayer, and hands-on demonstrations, attendees were invited to engage with the past in a way that felt personal and profound. The presence of local educators, cultural leaders, and community members underscored a shared commitment to remembering the hardships endured by Indigenous peoples and honoring their resilience. As the day came to a close, the message was clear: remembrance is not just about looking back, but about carrying forward the lessons of compassion, justice, and unity. In Franklin County, that legacy continues to grow, rooted in respect and nurtured by community.
