At the beginning of time – so the stories went - my people decided to leave the far away land of Virginia, and made a great pilgrimage across the mountains, and through the Gap, seeking our Promised Land. Having started a little later than some, we found the best land was already taken up by the quick and the privileged. Discouraged but not defeated, seeking a spring that would quench our thirst and protect us from disease, we took off vaguely toward the northern hills, across the great meadows of the bluegrass region, until we happened upon the broad, rich bottoms of Eagle Creek. It was the singular most extraordinary event in our history and we never, ever got over our amazement at having done it. ...
Now I am the one left who remembers the stories of how it was – the triumphant, proud, wise, laughing, merry, tragic, vengeful, weeping, regretful stories of my people. And so I feel obliged to become a storyteller myself. I decide to try and speak their piece, over and over, this way and that, loudly and softly, to my children, to passing strangers, in the dark, until I sleep.
- from At the Beginning of Time