I think that Kentucky holds tight to those of us who were born there, always trying to pull us back when we move away. Although I have lived and worked in the mid-west the majority of my life, I returned to Kentucky twice. Once after I finished my graduate work at the University of Michigan to teach at Berea College for several years and, again, in my late fifties to buy a second home in Mt Sterling. It was in my house in Mt Sterling that the family stories about the Clays began to resurface.

My mother and grandmother had told me all my life that the stories about our family were part of my heritage and that I should pass them on. I had chosen to discount that charge. But then in Mt Sterling, surrounded by my Kentucky family’s belongings – furniture, dishes, pictures -- I began to remember one story after another. I realized that I needed to tell those stories to my children and grandchildren before they were lost. I also imagined that following the four-hundred year saga of a single family could provide an interesting look at our country’s history.

Consequently, armed with the research tools I learned as a historian, I headed off to try to find the truth in the family stories. Kentucky Clay: Eleven Generations of a Family Dynasty records my search.