In Memoriam

Dorothy Clifton Bishop

1934 - 2017

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Dot Bishop would have loved to participate in this year's summer workshop, greeting people with a big smile and a kind word as they registered, but she was in the hospital at that time. She seemed to come through her scheduled surgery just fine and was expected to be released within hours, but that was not to be. We have lost her, and she will be greatly missed.

No history of the AlaBenton Genealogical Society would be complete without many repetitions of her name for her service, her generosity and her devotion. As a charter member, she was passionately involved in AlaBenton and its goals, serving often, but not exclusively, in leadership roles. She distinguished herself in the offfices she held, always promoting AlaBenton over herself, working tirelessly in many activities for which she received little or no public credit, always with excellent results, inspiring others to do the same. Her experience, counsel and encouragement supported many more who held office or various committee chairmanships, some of which garner little recognition, but contribute greatly to the success of the organization.

Many of our members belong to more than one organization, some genealogy-related, some not, and Dot was no exception. She was a faithful, active member of her church, of the city of Oxford, a proud and loving family member and a loyal friend (to her two- and four-legged buddies). She was a valued member of the Chinnabee-Ft. Strother, Chapter, Daughters of the American Revolution, of the Colonial Dames, and it gave her a whimsical plesure to qualify for a hereditary organization called Flagon and Trencher, for descendants of colonial tavernkeepers. When the late Dr. Opal Lovett gave a writing workshop at the Anniston library and urged participants to form smaller writing groups to exercise and critique their writing skills, Dot Bishop was a member of a small group which met regularly to share and compare their writing and to support each other's efforts. We cannot help grieving over the loss of our friend, but we feel a deep gratitude for having been allowed to be a very small part in a life well lived by a person well worth knowing.

The imprints we leave in all that we do never vanish, even after our voices are stilled. Like the words of an old Tennyson poem the two of us happened to discuss recently,

"Our echoes roll from soul to soul and grow forever and forever."