Poem in honor of John Counts Sr. of Glade Hollow

Descendants of John Counts of Glade Hollow, 

Assembled from near and away,

Foregathered in the placid green valley,

I greet you today.

Somewhere on the far soil of the Rhineland,

In days of the dim olden time,

Our people turned their steps to the westward

And sought a new clime.

Six miles from the same spot where we're standing,

When Red Men were still wont to roam,

Came hardy old John Counts to Glade Hollow

And hewed out a home.

In him was the fine brawn of the Teuton,

The love of the mountainside air;

In him, the pioneering day sprit

To do and to dare.

The coves that lie about us resounded,

Echoing his broad axe's blow

Loud calling to his herds in the morning

The clank of hoe.

Trice forty four long summers and winters

Have passed by the site of this town

Since John Counts put aside his old flintlock

And laid himself down.

He fathered a strong breed that was equal

to rigors of steeps and stones,

Which helped to build a paragon homeland

That honors his bones.

The Countses and the Sutherland, Kisers,

And hundreds of others are sprung

From old John who homesteaded Glade Hollow

When Russell was young.

The Rasnicks and also the Amburgeys, 

The Smiths and the Littons are we

The Dickensons and Kelleys and Colleys

One family tree.

The Southwestern Virginia mountains

Have bloomed as the fairest of lands,

Responding to the strokes of our labor

The touch of our hands.

And here in the clean, rugged environs

That all of us call the home sod,

Before the tree clad tops of the ridges

That beckon to God.

The Children of John Counts of Glade Hollow

Had dreams of the country beyond,

As fathers of John Counts in the old world

Had dreams that were fond.

And some of us have followed the sunset

Across the wide prairies, and we

Have scaled the battlements of the Rockies

Gone down to the sea.

To every small point of the compass

To schools and to mars and to mills

To councils of the state and the nations,

We've gone from these hills.

And hoping and upbuilding and toiling,

For happiness, liberty, life,

We go on with our searching forever

Through calms and the strife.

Today we have paused here in our seeking

For livelihood, glamour and gold,

To join us in a Counts Clan reunion

The young and the old.

Let us in these ancestral surroundings,

Clasp hands with our kith and our kin,

Some forming their initial acquaintance,

Some greeting again.

Let each in these dark days of great troubles

That grip the whole earth in a thrall,

Bring love and fellowship and good feeling

To one and to all.

Revive family bonds that were broken

Cement the blood relative tie

Before you go away from this meeting,

And don't let them die.

I fancy, my kinfolks of the Counts Clan,

Who gather this wonderful while,

That John Counts from his quiet grave yonder

Will see us and smile.