Joseph Hamilton Carroll

Pictures taken 1/99, 11/00, 5/02 respectively.

Below is an example of Joey's writing skill, an essay for JROTC in his freshman year at Hunter's Lane High School, Goodlettsville, TN:

Teamwork is paramount to success in a team because it adds strength in both the mental and physical aspects of a problem. Whereas, if only one person or a small portion of a team works, the main goal will not be achieved as well as it could be. Also, if people in a team do not express their view points on a certain problem, a lot can be missed in the main goal. When members of the team don't participate, the same kind of problem arises. Yesterday, when we were supposed to make a house out of pencils, I could tell from the beginning who was a team player and who would just stand there and not contribute.

      In a group project in the past, I was to work with two of my close friends and gather information on an endangered species. Unfortunately, the two people that I thought I could trust to do the work were just like the observers in yesterday's pencil house experiment. When the time came for us to turn in our project, neither of them had theirs and I ended up having to do their part as well and turning in the project late, receiving an 85 rather than the A I could have received.
Not only does a situation like that effect the overall success of the project, but it depletes the morale of the people on the team who are working. In the case of my project, the night that I stayed up late working on it, I was constantly grumbling about how rude and inconsiderate it was for them to do that to me and themselves. Though my sense of accomplishment outweighed my feeling of resentment, my morale was terribly crushed.

     One of my good experiences with teams was in a more physical situation. A few other guys at my church, including a few custodians had to move a twenty foot long wooden stage over a five foot dirty ledge made of concrete bricks through a muddy, ditched area filled with metal pipes to trip over in the dark, into a portable building that was at least three feet off the ground. Occasionally while going through the muddy area, people would fall and we would have to quickly move to even out the weight of the stage. I was once saved from a serious injury while getting inside the portable to pull it the rest of the way in. My leg was caught between the stage and the entrance when a friend noticed and yelled for me before it was too late.

     I conclude that without teamwork, people can not only fail, but can be hurt, both physically and emotionally. It is also apparent that many people now do not know how to operate as a team. I'm looking forward to learning to become a better team member in JROTC because it will not only help me in team oriented situations, but it will build my character.

Composition for World History - (October 1999)

The Battle of Lockhart
- by Joseph Carroll

I enter the forest warily upon my white steed, my broadsword drawn, eyes wide open and aware. Down the path I see a large knight from one of the cities to the south. His armour is silver and his steed is black as night. He turns toward me and yells, "I come from the good family, Lockhart!"

"And I am of the Cearbhaill, to fight you English off our lands!", I respond, hoping for a fight.

He raises his lance and I raise my sword above my head and slip my arm into my targe. He readies himself and screams as he charges on his steed down the long path. "Cearbhaill go braugh!" I shout, racing down toward the knight. As we meet, I lean out, parrying his lance's blow, slashing around with my sword at his back, thus knocking him to the ground. I leap from the saddle and turn around, my blue kilt swaying, flapping in the wind. I wait for him to regain his stance and then I charge, screaming. He draws, hearing me and spins around, raising his own shield. He bashes me with this and reaches over with his longsword. I block, drop on my knees and sweep beneath his shield with all my strength, taking both legs. Standing, I then draw my dirk and cut him ear to ear, giving to him the death of a criminal.

I sound my pipes, calling my clansmen this way. We set up a camp when they arrive, waiting till the morning to push on through the thick forest. Our attack is planned tonight. Because we're only two score we'll have to take the castle by surprise.

When the fog is still thick, early in the morning, we climb the walls of the city, positioning ourselves inside the first wall. On Michael's command, I rush out from my corner, already swinging at the knight in front of me. My blow is parried and countered by a slash at my neck, but I duck and thrust forward, sending my blade in and out of him. Before I can draw back, another knight runs at me, his sword above his head, ready to decapitate me. I shut my eyes and prepare for my death, but the blow that strikes me is not at my head, but at my arm, and the sound I hear is strange, like a melon being cut in half. As I open my eyes and look at the axe in my enemy's head I see that my guess was not too far off. I grin and get up, pulling my sword from the other knight's stomach with my wounded arm. Once my tourniquet is tied, I move on, encountering another knight, this one much larger than any man I've ever seen. His silvery armour shines like the moon. He draws and engages me, drawing first blood, cutting my leg open badly. With anger I lash out at him with dazzling complex combinations of thrusts and slashes, eventually putting my sword through his visor and his face.

We move on quickly to the castle, so that the news of our coming is not fair warning. The smell of death is heavy in the air. As I run by, I see the dead laid outside their broken down huts by their half-dead and impoverished families. The city looked grand from a distance, but the people live worse than we clansmen do. As we near the castle, the forty of us in the formation of a mob rush in through the castle gate, almost effortlessly killing everything in our path. I rush through my clansmen, my sword held high, charging toward the court. Followed by most of my men, my confidence is held high as well. We charge through and find them feasting on fine foods, fat and without worry. As I reach the table of the Lockhart I hold my sword at the hilt and the ricasso and bear down on the king, my blade passing through the right side of his neck and coming out the other end. I kick his body over and quickly take out the two next to him.

Soon, all those in the castle are dead. Our arms full of loot, my clan leaves the castle, distributing our wealth among those without it. Not late that night we return to our village to tell stories of our adventure, how we defended our land and kept our freedom. We became heroes that day as we bled for our brothers at the city of Lockhart. We will be remembered always.

Collecting Our Kin: A Family History Collection, copyright 1998-2007, is a not-for-profit, personal, on-line genealogy project, formatted and presented by James H. Carroll, Goodlettsville, TN. Excerpts and contributions from other sources have been used sparingly and with appropriate credit given. You are welcome to copy information found at this site for personal use and share information with other researchers or genealogical organizations, but this information may not be sold or used in a commercial project without expressed permission.