The fourth post in the founder series. A small fragment of a much larger story.
My dad used to mention the songs people marched to in Kansas City when he was a boy. Sweet by and by. Pie in the sky. Tambourines. He would say the lines and his face would do a thing I cannot describe in writing. I never asked him what the songs meant to him. I never asked him whether he marched. I never asked him what the streets looked like. I just remembered the line.
One generation of memory loss is the difference between knowing the cadence of the song and knowing only its title. Two generations of loss and the song is gone entirely. Three generations and even the title is gone.
This is what LegacySpoken is fighting against. Not big stories — small ones. The ones that disappear quietly.