Perhaps, it was because they hoped for the intervention of the immortals that the Cherokee people came here to hold the last council before the removal, hoping against hope that they would be allowed to keep their homes and remain in the homeland of the ancestors. It was not to be, and so began The Trail Where They Cried.

The Eternal Flame, a spark of the one that once burned atop the mound in the mother town, burns once again on Cherokee land. 

Stories were the background music of my childhood. My Cherokee family infused their stories with the feel of sacred knowledge, and I believed. They told of a sacred spring that came from the world of the immortals, where the ancestral spirits passed between the world. When you looked into the depth of the spring, you saw the blue sky of Galunla'ti reflected in the water. We knew their world was a mirror image of ours, because the spring ran icy cold in our summer, and warm on our cold winter days. The water from the spring ran clear as crystal, the way it always is in the world of the Nunne'hi.

The years have passed. Today the Remember the Removal Riders, completed their ride to commemorate the long trail the people walked. Luke Mason told stories of his people with pride and to make sure they are never forgotten. The young remember and the elders are proud.

I look into the flame, and give thanks for all the storytellers who taught me how to see the mystery inside the myth, and the truth that lives in legend. In the flame I see their bright spirit. I look deep into the blue water, and see the world where they await me when I walk over to the next live.