"The Ballad of Davy Crockett"

We met Lilith Hope on a rainy Portland afternoon at a neighborhood bar nearing its final summer. She was there to see an old friend, the bar's proprietor, and share recent studies she'd completed—part of a larger personal journey through faith, ancestry, and global history. Though she works as a federal employee, Lilith spoke more like a philosopher, a truth-seeker, a storyteller.

When we asked what song reminded her of growing up, she paused only briefly before naming "The Ballad of Davy Crockett." Her mother bought her the 45 rpm single in 1978, and Lilith remembers the way her mom would sing it often. "She wanted to be a mountain woman," she told us with a grin. That dream traced back through generations—her family came from the Appalachian Mountains, moved down to Georgia during the Dust Bowl, and carried with them their songs, stories, and deeply rooted traditions. Though the tune came from a Disney show, it captured something more personal: a heritage of resilience, pride, and survival.

Lilith is 54 and has lived in 33 different places, from the United States to Russia to Kyrgyzstan—a country she holds close to her heart and has tattooed on her chest. "I'm a sojourner," she told us. Her father worked for IBM, a codebreaker during the Cold War and one of the original engineers behind the ENIAC computer. His job meant constant moves—"IBM stood for 'I've Been Moved,'" she joked—but it also exposed Lilith to different cultures, languages, and a global view of history.

She's spent much of her life studying the stories we inherit—how we got here, what keeps repeating, and how we might find peace through understanding. Her spiritual views are shaped by curiosity more than doctrine; she's explored many faiths and now identifies as a solitary Christian, believing in a higher power and the ancestors who came before. For Lilith, family isn't about biology—it's about safety, trust, and shared love. Her partner, her children, her ex-wife, and the friends she's made along the way? All family.

"Whatever's on the other side," she said quietly, "that's where our family is. And we want to be there with them. But for now, we live. We love. We remember."

And somewhere in her memory, her mother still hums "Davy Crockett"—a song of mountains, movement, and making it through.