Sarah Daves Herndon Miller Clark

 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks: Week 52 (Dec 23-31)

Prompt: Resolution

#52ancestors

 Literaryterms.net describes resolution as " the conclusion of the story’s plot. It’s where any unanswered questions are answered, or “loose ends are tied.” So it seems only right to come to a resolution at the end of the year, to answer at least one of the mysteries of my ancestors. The mystery was solved in the last few days with several nights of researching into the early morning hours.

 The mystery involves my 3rd Great Grandmother, Sarah Daves.  In 1850, she is living with her brother, Goodman Daves, in Ozark County, Missouri.  She was only 14 years old so the assumption is that her parents are no longer living.  An assumption that still needs to be proven, but that mystery is close to being solved as I have 2 men living in Kentucky in 1840 who are good candidates to be her father.  Her brother, Goodman, married his wife in Henderson County, Kentucky.  I used a spreadsheet and the 1840 census to determine that two men named Daves or Davis had children of the right age and sex to be her father.  Since the 1840 census doesn't give the children's names more research will need to be done to determine exactly which one is their father.  

 The second mystery about Sarah Daves involves what happened to her in later life. By 1860, Sarah was married to Isaiah Herndon who in 1850 lived only 2 houses down from her and her brother.  The 1860 census, lists her oldest 3 children of which Hannah is the oldest at 8 years old.  Due to Hannah's age, their expected marriage should have taken place between 1850 and  1852.  The two counties where they lived had their courthouses burn with a loss of all records after the expected marriage date. Ozark County courthouse burned in 1858 and the Douglas County courthouse burned in 1886.

 Toward the end of the Civil War, Isaiah was killed and is buried in Douglas County.  The family story states that he was on the way back from fighting in the war when he was set upon by bushwhackers and killed.  However no records have been found for him for military service. It has been proven that the I.O. Herndon who did serve in the Confederacy was not him. 

 Sarah's mystery comes after her husband's death. In 1870, she is living in Ozark County with her three youngest children. By this time, Hannah has married and is no longer with the family. After that Sarah disappeared.  I heard family stories that she married a man named Thompson and filed for a widow's pension for her husband's military service.  But that proved to be false as I discovered that it was Hannah that married a Thompson. There didn't appear to be any widow's pension for Sarah A. Herndon. 

 For many years, I pondered Sarah's fate. I picked up her son's story in 1900, but where he was between 1870 and 1900 was also a mystery.  I had searched Ozark, Douglas, Greene, and Webster  counties  census records page by page when census research was done by microfilm without finding them. The courthouses'  loss of records accounted for not finding a second marriage.

 This last week, I was working on the DAR paper work for a supplemental for my 6th Great Grandfather, Joseph Herndon, and I decided to try one more time to find Sarah Daves Herndon. The Ancestry search engine allows you to search for first names only and I have used that to find other ancestors. The ancestors that were found that way in the past had unusual first names so I didn't have much hope for finding Sarah, James, or Mary. Elisha would have been easier to find but I already knew where he was living with his wife in Douglas County.

 This simple technique proved to be the breakthrough that I needed.  I started with Ozark County as it was the last place that I knew Sarah lived.  But there were way too many Sarahs born close to her birth year.  So, I tried her son, James. In almost every record that I have found for him up to this point, he was listed as James W C Herndon.  I entered James W C into the first name box of the search engine, his year of birth, and that he may have lived in Missouri, USA.  Then I limited it to the 1880 census. The first name that came up and the only one that said, James W. C. was for a James W. C. Miller.  The head of household was Sarah E Miller, a widow.  Close but her name should have been Sarah A. But one of the other children was Mary A. C. Miller.  My James W.C. had a sister, named Mary Ann K.  Sarah was born in Kentucky. James and Mary were born in Missouri and they were the right ages. Despite the discrepancy in the middle initials, I am convinced I have found Sarah.

 There were two other children listed in the household that I did not know, Emma V Miller, age 4, and Sallyann R. Miller, age 3 (on the next page). Emma is listed as the daughter of Sarah and Sallyann as a granddaughter. 

The breakthrough information was from the 1880 Taney County, Missouri Census

 From there, I was able to find that Sarah A Miller had filed for a widow's pension on Burgess G. Miller. Burgess was living with his 3rd wife in 1870, living within a few house of Sarah's brother, Goodman Daves. His wife, Mary A., died in1872 and Burgess died in 1878. So it appears that he and Sarah married  between 1872 and 1876.

 Sarah Miller married Calvin Clark in September of 1908 in Ozark County. Just two years later, she  is listed as divorced on the 1910 census with the last name of Clark and living with her daughter, Emma V. Alsup and 5 grandchildren.

 Perhaps this is not the last resolution for Sarah Daves Herndon Miller Clark as there is still her final resting place to be found.

Good Deeds of Many Researchers

 

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks: Week 47 (Nov. 18-24)
Prompt: Good Deeds
#52ancestors

As I thought about what to write this week, I started multiple times with different subjects but nothing really stood out for me until a couple of days ago when a distant relative did a good deed. Over the years, I have had a multitude of distant relatives help me with my genealogy.  Starting with Katherine Walter from Tyler, TX in the 70s who shared her work on our mutual McCarley line.  Over the years, I have documented her work and expanded on it in many places. She was a meticulous researcher and I wish she were still here to continue collaborating. She was patient with me as a beginning researcher who was eager to learn and I have learned that she helped other McCarley researchers get started. 

Then there was my Grand Aunt Nina, sister to my Grandmother,  who in the 80s sent me through the mail some tin type pictures to copy and send back to her. She knew my Dad but not me so I always felt very honored that she trusted me to send them back. 

Descended from a sister to my great grandmother, Bernice Ammann Irwin, sent me a binder with information about my Maddy family.  It was copied from original type written pages with pictures.  Over the Xerox copied pictures, she glued photographs. I didn't check her work for many years, but when I did start documenting, it was all correct, except for leaving the e out of my maiden name.  I was thrilled to see my family listed with all of my siblings. I still treasure that binder with all the pages encased in sheet protectors.

In 2014, Don Ivey, who is descended from my great grandmother's third husband, sent me pictures of her. Sarah Violet Herndon died when she was only 34 years old and no one in my family had ever seen a picture of her.  Don's sharing those pictures caused excitement among many members of my family. My Grandmother considered James Wesley Ivey her father, and she had very fond memories of him.  She had also told us that my Mother looked like Sarah Violet. The pictures do show a remarkable resemblance, but they also show that one of my cousins bears some resemblance to her, also.  One of the pictures  has her and Wesley driving an early model car with a flower in the radiator.  I can't help but believe that Wesley must have been fond of Sarah Violet even after the divorce to have kept her pictures and passed them down in his family. 

This week, I received a picture of Cassie McCarley from a descendant of my great grandparents. I am so grateful to Trinity and her brother, Rob, for sharing this picture. Cassie died when she was only 3 years old and I have researched for her records off and on for many years.  My Grand Aunt Viola is also in the picture and while I have memories of her and pictures of her as an older woman, this is the first picture of her as a baby I have seen.

One of the purposes for my blog is to share with the rest of my family, not just the dates and places of our ancestors, but their stories. Without the good deeds of many distant relatives, I would not know nor be able to share their lives.

Japanese Language

 

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks: Week 46 (Nov. 11-17)
Prompt: Different Language
#52ancestors

 This week I am not writing about my ancestors, but about my grandchildren’s ancestors.

 As I sat at the dining room table with my mother in law and her friends, I let the conversation wash over me as I cut vegetables in the precise manner for sukiyaki. I didn’t understand what they were saying so it was easy to zone out.  Suddenly, my mother in law turned to me and asked me a question in Japanese, and I answered in English.  I don’t know what she asked me, but my answer satisfied her, and she turned back to the conversation. Neither she nor her friends ever realized the question was in Japanese.  I knew by the tone that it was a question and replied, "I don't know".

 My father-in-law met and married Asa (Smoky) Inage while he was in the army and stationed in Japan.  He had gone to Japanese language classes and he frequented areas outside of the military base and tourist areas.  They moved to the United States when my husband, Robert, was about 4 years old.  At the time he spoke Japanese and very little English.  Once Robert started to school, he learned English rapidly and mostly forgot the Japanese that he once knew. 

Robert in a cornfield in Japan

Robert did remember a few words. He had a Japanese pet name for me, but he refused to tell me what it meant.  I knew whatever it meant; it wasn’t flattering.  Eventually I became so annoyed, that I started threatening to ask his mother if he did not tell me.  He would just laugh saying, “You wouldn’t dare”. 

One day, we were gathered around that same dining room table, when I ask Mom what “ketzu magare” meant. She started giggling and covered her mouth with her hand. My father-in-law laughed out loud. I waited, while my husband blushed. Eventually, while  turning just a little red, Dad told me that it meant “dumb head”.  I did not believe  that for one minute. I still don’t know what it really means. The spelling is probably very wrong as the Japanese translators online won't tell me either.  

 Smoky taught our daughter the Japanese word for bathroom (benjo), because it was more polite to use in public. We use a few other Japanese words, like hashi (chopstick).  Once when I was singing “London Bridges” to our young daughter, Robert started singing along with us in Japanese. He was just as surprised as we were because he didn’t know the song until he started singing it.

 I wish now that we had learned more while we had the chance.

Santa Claus

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks: Week 44 

#52ancestors
Prompt: Bearded 

It was a dark  and stormy night.

 I've always wanted to start a story with that line, and it really was a miserable night with snow steadily coming down.  A young girl answered the door late on Christmas Eve.  To her shock, Santa Claus stood in the door covered with a light sprinkling of snow.

 Well, it wasn't really Santa Claus, but he had a big bushy white beard and that was her first reaction.  It was really her Grandpa, Mitchel McCarley, who had come to visit.  He rode a horse from Carter County, Oklahoma to their house in Nocona, Texas in the freezing sleet and snow.  

Over the next few days, he became very ill with what was probably pneumonia.  He passed away almost 3 weeks later on January 16, 1916. 

His granddaughter remembered him being laid out in her bedroom for the few days that it took to get warm enough to have him buried in Nocona Cemetery.

When I heard this story it made me realize how traumatic it must have been on such a young girl to first think that Santa Claus had come to see her and then for him to  die and be laid out in her bedroom.

I have heard this story from a couple of different distant cousins. I'm not positive who the granddaughter was. I was told but just don't remember right now.  I thought it was Wanda but in checking records, she was not born until well after this date.  I suspect it was Loda Mae Stout, daughter of Sarah Alice McCarley and Henry Clay Stout.  Loda would have been about 5 years old when her Grandfather died and her family lived in Nocona in 1920.  If you know who it was, let me know and I will update this story. 

Mitchel Wilburn (Walter) McCarley,
born September 1846, Mississippi
died 16 January 1916, Nocona, Montague Co., TX

Serious Foretelling

 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks: Week 44
#52ancestors
Prompt: Scary Stuff 

I don't think it is really so scary but rather cool to think that my family has "powers". I don't have powers but sometimes I know who is on the phone before I answer it. I also learned that I could witch for graves, sort of like water witching, but it worked for almost everyone in the group I was with so I don't know if that is a power or if it is some kind of science we just don't know yet.

 My grandfather, Thomas Osa (Ocie) McCarley, had powers and so did his Dad, Sidney E. McCarley.  I've mentioned before how Grandpa could find water by using a forked branch, but he also had some serious foretelling.  When my mother was young, they had a cellar in the backyard. The kind that had a small hill with a slanted door in the side. The kids would climb the mound of dirt to the top of the door and slide down it.  It was a regular part of their play to slide down the cellar door. One morning before Grandpa left the house, he told Grandma not to let the kids play in the backyard that day.  Mom thought it was strange, but they did what their Father told them and played in the front yard that day. That night while they were asleep, the root cellar caved in. 

 One of my Mom's second cousins told me about my great grandfather, Sid McCarley's powers.  When Ron was young, he had warts all over his hands and they had tried everything to get rid of them. His mother took him to see his Uncle Sid. My great grandfather, took Ron's hands inside of his hands and rubbed them all over very strongly.  Ron's hands got warmer and warmer as he rubbed until they were almost hot. His Uncle Sid then told him to go home and tomorrow the warts would be gone. The next day, the warts were gone.

I have never heard Sid called Leprechaun in my family but I was told that was his nickname. Maybe he had other powers, too.

 When my mother had a bad feeling about something, we knew not to even try to change her mind. What if she had the same kind of powers that her Dad had? She probably saved us several times by not letting us go somewhere that bad things were going to happen. To this day, I watch for a white car crossing Hwy 180 between Weatherford and Mineral Wells that she predicted would cross in front of us causing a wreck.

Mr. Ira

 #52ancestors
Week 43: Oct 21-27
Prompt: Quite the Character

 Everyone in that part of the country called him Mr. Ira and he was quite a character.

 I met Mr. Ira just a few days after I married his grandson. We were on our monumental trip from Texas to Norfolk, Virginia where my new husband would be stationed on the aircraft carrier, U.S.S. Independence. We stopped over in Memphis to see his Aunt, Uncle, Cousin, and Granddad.  We were only able to stay one night, but when we left in the wee hours of the morning he was awake to tell us good-bye.  

 Over the years I heard many stories during reunions that showed what a special man he was. One memory that several of the cousins experienced was him teaching them to drive.  When my husband was about 14, he was visiting Granddad. His parents had gone to town and Robert asked to walk down to the corner store to get a soda.  Now this was out in the country and several miles away, so Granddad told him to take his truck. When Robert protested that he didn’t know how to drive, Granddad told him, “It’s easy, just keep it in the middle of the road. If you see anyone coming, just wiggle the wheel back and forth and they will get out of your way.”   That is the way Mr. Ira drove and everyone knew to get out of his way in that part of the county.

 The smell of WD-40 brings back a special memory for Robert. He remembers as a kid sitting on the porch with his Granddad while he dosed his arthritis with WD-40.  He took the big metal can with the screw top and would tip it over to pour the lubricant into his palm, then he would pull up the legs of his overalls and rub the WD-40 into his knees, then elbows, and use the last for his hands. He swore by it. Since he lived until 95 years old, there is a good chance he was right.

 Not too long after his oldest son came back from the war, he and his younger brother Ed were walking down to the river near their house.  They were messing around as young men do sometimes and Son (that is what everyone called John) took aim and fired a shot in the top of the door of the outhouse. Granddad came boiling out of the outhouse, holding his pants up with one hand and threatening to whoop the two boys.  They took off for the river and didn’t come back until they figured he had cooled off.

 On our last trip to see Granddad Ira, our daughter was about 2 years old. We stayed a week and every morning and late afternoon; we spent time with Granddad at the nursing home.  Between those times, we explored Memphis and the surrounding area. Granddad enticed Katy to come to him with chocolates he kept hidden in his top drawer. He was diabetic and wasn’t supposed to have candy, but he and Katy became fast friends sharing the chocolate.

One morning we mentioned our planned trip to the Memphis zoo. He told us about the two black bears that he raised from the time they were cubs. Their mother had died and when he found them, he took them home. They were so cute and fun as babies but then they got too big. They were becoming a danger to be around, so he donated them to the fledgling Memphis zoo.  He was as amazed as we were when we came back that afternoon.  We had a conversation with one of the zookeepers at the bear habitat that told us that the black bears they had were descendants of two black bears that were donated to the zoo years before.  

 Mr. Ira had 2 boys and 6 girls. His brother, Bill, had 7 boys and 1 girl. The cousins laughed when they told how about every other year, they would go to Uncle Ira’s house for a few days and when they went home, they had a new brother.  The next year their cousins would come to visit them for a few days and when they went home, they had a new sister.  The two sets of cousins were very close and had lots of adventures together.

 On one of those adventures, Granddad Ira took the two sets of cousins hunting. There was an area that was fenced on both sides but rather long.  The deer could jump the fence and grazed in the area often.  On this particular trip, a group of the cousins gathered at one end and some including Granddad were at the other end.  The cousins started walking toward the others hoping to scare a deer into the other’s view and they did.  One deer came loping straight toward their sight.  Granddad shot the deer and went to cut its throat to get it ready to butcher.  He slung one leg over the deer and lifted its head by the antlers.  Only his bullet had hit the deer right between the antlers and only stunned it.  When he lifted the head, the deer jumped up.  Granddad was riding the deer around the field, screaming, and yelling as the deer bucked to get him off.  They eventually parted ways. The deer jumped the fence and got away. Although Granddad was tough as nails, he refused to do it again for the ones who missed seeing it.

Ira Lee Evans
1886 Sumner, Tallahatchie County, MS
1981 Cordova, Shelby County, TN

Update: This post was mentioned in Amy Johnson Crow's newsletter date Oct 27, 2020. 

Pride Goeth before a Fall

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks: Week 42

#52ancestors
Prompt: Proud

One of my Mother’s reminders was “Pride goeth before a fall.”  I ruefully remembered that awhile back when doing research on my Daves line.

I tried for many years trying to find the parents of Sarah Daves, who married Isaiah Herndon.  I knew her brother was Goodman Daves as she lived with him near the Herndon family when she was 14. I knew that she also had a brother named James who lived with her and Isaiah in 1860. I found Goodman’s marriage record in Henderson County, Kentucky so I knew they came from there before moving to Missouri.  The family was even mentioned in the Turnbo Manuscripts giving many details about the relationships among the Herndon, Daves, and Lawrence families.

Using a spreadsheet and the 1840 Henderson County, KY census, I narrowed their likely father down to two men who both had sons and a daughter the right ages. However, that was as far as I was able to get without going to Kentucky to search the court records that had not been published yet.  One of the men who was a candidate for their father was William Davis.

Then one day as many do, I was searching Ancestry trees and found that someone had found their parents.  I was so excited as I followed their tree back and discovered one of their ancestors was William Richardson Davie.  William R Davie is credited with being one of the framers of the Constitution of the United States, founder of The University of North Carolina, a Revolutionary War Officer, and was the Grand Master of Masons in North Carolina.  He was certainly an ancestor to be proud of and I created a post on Facebook to announce my finding and let my relatives know that a mystery had been solved.  

There were multiple trees on Ancestry that gave this lineage and it seemed solid.  Then came the COVID-19 shut down and I started working from home which gave me more time free from commuting.  I turned to gathering the proofs for this lineage.

I guessed that perhaps the Frederick William Davie who was listed as Goodman, Sarah, and James father went by the name of William tying him into one of the men I suspected in Henderson County. I couldn’t find any information about Frederick William Davie, William Richardson Davie’s son, so I decided to start at the top and work down to them. Not the way you should do genealogical research, but it sometimes works.  As I worked my way down, I ran into a slight problem.  All of Frederick W Davie’s biographies said he had no children.  I did not want to give up this ancestor. However, his will named no children and left his estate to his wife, brother, a niece, and nephews.  A lawsuit in the Supreme Court, Bedon v Davie et al states in section 7 that Frederick William Davie died in April 1850 with no issue [children].   

I went back to those family trees on Ancestry.  Starting with the first one I found, I started tracking all their proofs. Most of them had no real proofs but would list the family tree that they incorporated into their tree.  After tracking it back through multiple trees, I found that the original tree shows a completely different Sarah Daves and with her father, Frederick Daves but not the son of William Richardson Davie.  This Sarah’s birth year and place was wildly different than my Sarah Daves and her father’s information did not match up to the Frederick William Daves that so many trees had listed.

I reluctantly gave up this ancestor and remembered again, “Pride goeth before a fall.”

  

"Cool Gunmen Rob City Cafe: Pair Escapes Police Following $30 Holdup".

 

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks: Week 41

Oct 7-13
#52ancestors
Prompt: Newest [find]

 

"Cool Gunmen Rob City Cafe: Pair Escapes Police Following $30 Holdup".

Thus started a search that I finally solved while in lock down for COVID-19. My newest find solved the mystery of the newspaper clipping found in my Grandparent's pictures. The article details a time when my Grandpa Golightley was robbed while eating breakfast at the Farrell's Products Co. Cafe. It mentions how upset he was because he couldn't pay for his breakfast after the robbery.

There were clues in the article, but I could not find where this might have happened. There wasn't a date on the clipping, nor the name of the newspaper.  The article mentioned that John Golightley was 42 at the time which meant

 it would have been in the year 1948 as his birthday was on January 1st, 1906.  Since Grandpa was a truck driver, it could have been anywhere.  I searched the internet for this Farrell's Products Co. Cafe, but it must be long gone. I had searched for other people and things mentioned in the article on Ancestry and the internet, but up until now I didn't find anything. 

 The name of the manager, J. B. Adams, was mentioned but that name gave me too many search results. The two police officers who investigated the crime were A. F. Blackshere and R. F. Gaylon.  Bob Owen Stewart was also mentioned as having had a run in with these robbers outside Stewart's tavern.

 The last time Newspaper.com ran a special, I decided to get a 6-month subscription.  After all, that 2-hour commute that I wasn't doing during the lock down could be put to good use doing research. 

 I started searching for the two police officers.  First I found A. F. Blackshere, a city policeman, in the 1954 Oklahoma City Directory.  Second, I found a sympathy notice in the December 28, 1951 issue of the Oklahoma Star, Portland Avenue Baptist Church edition for the death of R. F. Gaylon, Jr., Patrolman. This newspaper was published in Oklahoma City which put both officers mentioned in the article in Oklahoma City.

 Then I found my Grandpa in the 1948 Oklahoma City Directory, "Golightley, John, driver Gilmore, Gardner & Kirk.  He was also listed in the 1952 Oklahoma City Directory, "Golightley John (Eva), driver Gilmore Gardner & Kirk rPO Box 1069 Ponca City". 

 I still don't know the exact date he was robbed or in which newspaper it was published, but I do know it was probably in Oklahoma City, probably in 1948 but certainly before 1951. I haven't given up because new information pops up every day and I have found one more place where my Grandparents lived, if even for a short time.   

Our Oldest Family Bible

 

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks: Week 40

#52ancestors 
Prompt: Oldest  

Our oldest family Bible is worn and is held together with masking tape. When it was given to me, I had to piece together its history since I didn't remember anything about it.  I received it after both my parents had passed away.  My sister remembered that it belonged to my Dad and that she had seen it as a child.

There were several interesting things in the Bible, a card from the National Woman's Christian Temperance Union, some carefully dried flowers, and scraps of newspaper print with poems and spiritual readings. One poem (included below) mentions the year 91, presumably 1891.

 

The title page was missing and the title page for the New Testament was torn at the very bottom cutting off the publishing date, although it shows that it was published by the American Bible Society.  The American Bible Society was organized in 1816 to make the Bible available to all people. They were the first organization to provide Bibles to hotels and the first pocket Bibles to Civil War soldiers.    

Our Bible has a unique latch on it. The latch on the front and the back are still attached but whatever was between them is gone. Doing an image search on Google, I found an American Bible Society Bible with an identical latch. Although the cover was similar, it wasn't exact. That Bible was published in 1892.  There is a date handwritten on the back cover of 1886.  Searching out title pages that match the New Testament page in our Bible, I found matching ones from 1881and 1853.  This has led me to believe that the Bible was published around 1890, perhaps as much as 10 years before or 10 years after that date.

 On the back of the New Testament title page are some handwritten names and birthdates.  This gave the strongest clues of the original owner of the Bible.  Listed were:

 Ewing W. Lamb Born March 4, 1857

Lucy Bell Lamb April 17, 1861

Parents of

Leeland Henry Lamb Born Oct 6, 1880

Mattie Bell Lamb  Jan 21st 1882

Eva May Lamb March 20, 1884

Eli Edward Lamb Aug 10th 1886

 

The ink and handwriting for all names and dates are the same, so it was written after Aug 10th 1886, perhaps when the Bible was new.  At first we thought that the Bible belonged to Myrtle Olive Parker, wife of Leeland Henry Lamb. However, it would make more sense for her to have written her husband and herself with their children, leading us to believe that Lucy Bell Lamb was the original owner and that it passed down to Leeland Henry Lamb, then to his daughter, Eva Maude Lamb to my father, Leeland Johnston Golightley.  Leeland Golightley was saved after he was an adult and his oldest children were born.  We have speculated that his mother gave him the Bible at that time. 

I'm including one of the poems left in the Bible.

 

Why we are happy.

 

We all feel so happy this bright New Year's Day.

For Johnny is taking us both in his sleigh.

He drawing us down to the Temperance Hall,

With evergreen branches to hang on the wall;

For to-night the little Crusaders will meet,

For speaking, and singing and also a treat

Of sweet-cakes and candles, and apples and pies.

I tell you the people will open their eyes

When they see what the little Crusaders have done,

And are hoping to do in the year Ninety-One.

Neither whiskey, or brandy, or cider, or beer,

Is needed, I'm sure, for a happy New-Year.

They only bring sorrow, and hunger, and woe;

That's why we are little Crusaders, you know.

 

Ann Morris Maddy aka Granny Parsons

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks: Week 39
#52ancestors
Prompt: Should Be a Movie

"James was swimming the river, carrying a log chain, and just before reaching the bank, he sank to rise no more.[1]"  In those few minutes his wife, Ann, became a widow and a single mother. 

James Maddy, who served under George Washington, drowned near their property in the part of Augusta County that later became part of Rockingham County, Virginia. Ann Morris married James around 1759. He drowned probably in 1783 but certainly before June 1784.  They had twelve children, seven who gained adulthood and were the ancestors of a family that spread across the United States. Much of Ann's life can be documented from when and where her children were born but there were many pioneer women who had large families.  Ann Morris Maddy aka Granny Parsons was more than just the mother of a large family and her life really should be made into a movie. 

Ann was born in Orange County, Virginia in 1740. Family tradition states that her brother was Robert Morris of Revolutionary War fame, who signed the Declaration of Independence and helped finance the war.  However, this seems unlikely to me as much as I would like to believe it.  Robert Morris was born in England and lived in Pennsylvania. She was not listed in either his will or his Father's will. All the records that have been found for Ann are in Virginia and West Virginia. There has been some indication that her father was John Morris who lived on Goose Creek in what is now southern Loudoun County, near James Maddy when he was a child[2].  But either way, as her biography on Find A Grave[3] states, "we can all be very proud of her for her own sake." 

After James' death, Ann immediately moved her family to Monroe Co., West Virginia near old family friends, the Jacob Miller family.  Despite the distance, Ann traveled back and forth several times by horseback to settle the estate . Ann was an accomplished rider and very capable of taking care of the estate business.  While on a trip back to their previous residence, she traveled alone through the mountains carrying a large amount of money concealed in a belt under her clothing. Being tired she spent the night in the home of a settler in the mountains. "The settler guessed that she had money, and being avaricious and a murder at heart, he determined to have her money. The next morning, he kindly (?) offered to show her a nearer way than the regular trail. She accepted his kind offer and coming to a lonely place over a ravine he told her he knew she had money, that he intended to have it, and that he would throw her oer the cliff, and no one would be the wiser. She descended from her horse, as if accepting her fate and asked that he turn his back as the money was in her clothing. Probably she had a more complicated job to get it than she would today. He obligingly turned away, and she made a dash at him, threw him off his balance and over the cliff[4]".   She then proceeded on her way. 

In 1785, Ann married George W. Parsons and eventually gained the name "Granny Parsons".  She was a well known midwife and practical nurse in the area and was known for riding a big black stallion at all hours of the day and night going to help those who needed it.  Often as people heard her gallop past, they would say, "There goes Granny Parsons to help someone in trouble[5]."  She was helping people well into what most would consider old age.  Depending on which records that you consult, Granny Parsons lived to be 104 to 107.  She spent her last days on the Lively farm with her daughter, Sarah Maddy Lively and was buried in the Cottrel Lively Cemetery in Monroe County, West Virginia. 

Ann Morris Maddy Parsons lived through the Revolutionary War and certainly had a life worth remembering in the movies.

---

[1] Olive Maddy, US Maddys (Oskaloosa, Iowa: Private Printing).

[2] John F. Vallentine, "The Robert Morris-Ann Morris Maddy Tradition" The American Genealogist 49, no 3 (July 1973): 129-137

[3] "Ann Morris Maddy Parsons", Find A Grave, accessed September 20, 2020, https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/5358309/ann-maddy_parsons

[4] Maddy, US Maddys.

[5] Maddy, US Maddys.

Photo by Guy B. Langsdale from FindAGrave.com

On the Road Again: Search for the Cemetery

 

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks: Week 38
Prompt: On the Map
#52ancestors

 Several years ago, my family had a camping weekend on the old family farm.  Though the house was gone, it was the perfect place for a relaxing fun filled family campout. As with most family reunions, we had really good food, lots of conversation, games, and fun.  You can't imagine the fun of having a hide and seek at night with family from preschoolers to those in their 70s.

 As we sat around the fire one night, we went around the circle telling stories about the farm and what we remembered. There were both funny and poignant memories. The older generation remembered their brother, Bobby Glenn, who only lived a few hours.  Gwonda was almost 8 years old when he was born and she remembered her Grandmother lovingly wrapping him up and putting him near the stove to stay warm.

 When Bobby Glenn passed, his father and grandmother took him to a country cemetery near their farm. His mother was very sick after he was born and when he passed she wasn't able to go to the cemetery.  Months later, when she was well enough to go, neither her husband nor mother in law could remember exactly where they buried Bobby Glenn. 

 As memories of Bobby Glenn were shared around the campfire, I mentioned that I wished I knew the name of the cemetery where he was buried. To my surprise, two of my Uncles said that they knew where it was but couldn't remember the name.  They offered to take me there the next day. So the next day, we loaded up the car, two uncles, an aunt, a cousin, and me to set off for the cemetery that wasn't very far away.

 We drove up and down the country roads looking for the cemetery with first Teddy Mac giving directions and then Teddy Gene.  The rest of us were along for the ride and more family stories. After awhile, it seemed like we were going up and down the same roads, but both of my Uncles were sure that it was around there somewhere.  Neither one are the type to give up. The three of us in the back seat, cousin Nancy,  Aunt Sadie, and me were perfectly happy driving around, talking and teasing the Uncles about their directions.  I'm sure that those left at the farm wondered what happened to us because the cemetery was supposed to be only 15 minutes away. 

Eventually, we saw a farmer on his tractor in a field.  He had to be local and hopefully would know where the cemetery was located.  My 70 something year old Uncle, stopped the car on the side of the road and traipsed across the field to talk to the farmer. He came back with new directions.  It turns out that we were turning around one road short of where we needed to go, so the cemetery was just a little farther than we had gone up to that point.  We went up to the next cross road, traveled about another mile to the next road and turned left.  Sure enough, there was Denton Cemetery on the right.  Now I knew the name and where it was located. 

We spent some time walking in the cemetery and found near the back fence a row of children and infant graves. None of the graves had names, but all were marked with natural stones. The chain link fence is obviously a new addition and wasn't there when Bobby Glen was buried, but the chances are that one of those graves is his. 

Recently, I was back in the area and had a little time before heading home to Texas. We decided to visit Denton Cemetery again.  This time because we knew the name of the cemetery and had Google Maps, we were able to drive straight to it. But it was not nearly as memorable as that first trip.

 

 

Bobby Glenn McCarley

May 24, 1938

Son of Gladys Mamie Sample and Thomas Osa McCarley

A principal makes a difference

 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks: Week 37

Back to School

#52ancestors

 I decided that one story this week wasn't enough because my Dad had an amazing story of going back to school, too.

My Dad's family didn't seem to think as much about education as my Mom's family did. At least I never heard anyone talk about it much.  They weren't against education, just had more important things to do.  My Grandpa Golightley only had a 6th grade education and my Grandma graduated from the 7th grade.  It didn't mean as much then as most people started working very young on the farm and it wasn't as important in making a living. 

My Grandpa wasn't much of a farmer so by the time he was grown he was driving a truck mostly hauling gravel for road construction at first.  That was a time when many of the interstate  and local roads were being built. A time that bridged between a man having a horse and buggy and owning a car.  At one time, he owned his own gravel pit and hauled gravel for local road construction near Wellington, Kansas.

Dad and his Father with the gravel dump truck

 By the time my Dad was 14, he had a commercial drivers license and was working with his Dad hauling gravel.  Then they moved from Kansas to the San Antonio area where they started hauling produce from the Valley up through Oklahoma, Kansas, and North Dakota.  It was while they were hauling produce that the family moved to Marlow, Oklahoma.  Dad started high school in Marlow, but when the harvest started early in the Spring, he was back on the road with his Dad.  Once the Fall harvest was done, he would start school again.  That meant that he usually only went to school from sometime in October until around April each year.

School work didn't come easy for him. He read slowly, but he was good with math. After all, math was something you needed when you worked.  When he retired and had more time to read, he became an avid reader as he started reading much faster.

Dad was very fond of his principal, L.L. Teakell, at Marlow High. He told of several times his Principal came to their house to talk to him and his parents about him coming back to school and how important it was for him to graduate even if it took a little longer. Dad told us if it had not been for his Principal that he probably would have given up. Dad was the first one in his family to graduate from High School.

 

Leeland Johnston Golightley

Note: Updated to include Principals name & scan of diploma.