A similar scenario unfolded as descendants of thelate Robert P. and Rhoda Y. Dayton, my
maternal grandparents, heldanother family gathering at this site the weekend of Aug. 4-5.Agood turnout — 112 out of a possible 147 relatives came fromPennsylvania, Maryland, Virginia, Ohio, North Carolina, and thefarthest came from Colorado. We represented a broad spectrum of ages,occupations, special interests and travel experience as revealed in afamily directory assembled by cousin Linda Dayton Thompson.The Dayton homestead,nestled in the heart of Fairview Valley in Mineral County, W.Va., loomsahead, with its long red barn with white trim, Holstein cattle,towering silos, rows of electric fence, everything in neat order andinviting. Iregretted that my 85-year-old mom, Ann Dayton Bishop, oldest of thenine Dayton siblings, wasn’t able to attend for physical reasons, but Isensed her presence. The other lament: For myself, a family reunion isover by the time things really get fired up. I determined to try totalk with every person present, but fell miserably short. Thelast Dayton reunion, in 2002, opened with my Uncle Art Daytonpresenting a scroll that he had prepared and mounted on a wall. Thelarge parchment was a timeline with photographs of Dayton familymembers no longer living — 11 in all — including Uncle Art’s son, ArtieJr., who died in a car accident in 1983.
Ed: Art is my dad, and Artie Jr. is my brother.