This isn't my story, I copied it from facebook, but what a wonderful meaning for a child to learn. Christmas isn't about getting, it is about giving. Just as our Savior gave his life for us, we should give to one another gifts of love, gifts of prayer and gifts of hope. I hope that I will always share anything I have with others and be a Santa Claus to all. Makes me cry everytime I read it so have a box of tissues handy.
I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma. I was just a kid.
I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb: "There is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even dummies know that!"
My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her "world-famous" cinnamon buns. I knew they were world-famous, because Grandma said so. It had to be true.
Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told her everything. She was ready for me. "No Santa Claus?" she snorted...."Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad!! Now, put on your coat, and let's go."
"Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished my second world-famous cinnamon bun. "Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything. As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars. That was a bundle in those days. "Take this money," she said, "and buy something for someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and walked out of Kerby's.
I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping.
For a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for.
I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, the people who went to my church.
I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobby Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because he never went out to recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobby Decker didn't have a cough; he didn't have a good coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby Decker a coat!
I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and he would like that.
"Is this a Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down. "Yes, ma'am," I replied shyly. "It's for Bobby."
The nice lady smiled at me, as I told her about how Bobby really needed a good winter coat. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag, smiled again, and wished me a Merry Christmas.
That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible) in Christmas paper and ribbons and wrote, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it.
Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me over to Bobby Decker's house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially, one of Santa's helpers.
Grandma parked down the street from Bobby's house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk. Then Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right, Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going."
I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on his step, pounded his door and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma.
Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open. Finally it did, and there stood Bobby.
Fifty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering, beside my Grandma, in Bobby Decker's bushes. That night, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they were -- ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team.
I still have the Bible, with the coat tag tucked inside: $19.95.
May you always have LOVE to share,
HEALTH to spare and FRIENDS that care...
And may you always believe in the magic of Santa Claus!
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Monday, December 12, 2011
"ETERNAL FLOWER" in memory of Nancy Caldwell.
I met a lady in Resaca back in the 70's named Nancy Caldwell. She moved next door to my mother-in-law, Ruby Dean, after the death of her husband. She was such a good person, lending me books to read and cooking extra and sending it to my house. I remember her cooking a fresh coconut cake that was my favorite. I asked her why she gave it away and her excuse was that she was diabetic and could only have one slice. " If I keep this cake, I will eat more than I should." was the reply that she gave me. She was forever giving me cutting from flowers or bringing me bouquets for the house. Her favorites were roses. I still have a smoke bush growing in my yard that came from her. And iris, just about every color of iris that I have, came from her yard in Resaca. She never met a stranger and never talked bad about anyone. Once, on the day that Grannie Ruby's father died in March of 1977, she cooked a complete meal and took it to the home for the family as they were grieving. Fried chicken, green beans, potato salad, cornbread, slaw, turnip greens, and even a chocolate cake and an egg custard, I will never forget all the food. It must have taken her just about all day. You just don't forget people like that who have not a jealous bone in their bodies. So in memory of Mrs. Caldwell, I wrote a poem for her. I think in some way that she will see this poem where she has gone and know that she is loved. People like her never get their names in the paper or get book written about them. You wont read about her in the history book or in National Geographic but she will forever remain in my heart.
ETERNAL FLOWER
(in memory of Nancy Caldwell July, 1996)
I lost a friend the other day
and such joy she brought to me;
just a simple home-made cake
or a cutting from her tree.
She never worried what people said
and went her merry way,
but yet her presence can still be felt
on a warm summer day.
I can see her still in a flower bed
wher jonquils and marigolds bloom,
but the flowers that she is tending now
will outshine the sun and moon.
And now as I sit on my window sill
while the earth takes its morning shower;
a window in Heaven opens for me
and I see her---an Eternal Flower.
ETERNAL FLOWER
(in memory of Nancy Caldwell July, 1996)
I lost a friend the other day
and such joy she brought to me;
just a simple home-made cake
or a cutting from her tree.
She never worried what people said
and went her merry way,
but yet her presence can still be felt
on a warm summer day.
I can see her still in a flower bed
wher jonquils and marigolds bloom,
but the flowers that she is tending now
will outshine the sun and moon.
And now as I sit on my window sill
while the earth takes its morning shower;
a window in Heaven opens for me
and I see her---an Eternal Flower.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
GRANNY FRANKS AND PA TOM
This story is about Granny Franks and Pa Tom. They were the grandparents of my first husband, Marvin Lee Burns. Granny Franks was Katie Ella Smith Franks born Feb. 3, 1902 and died Oct. 14, 1980. She was the daughter of Joe Smith and Mary Molly Beasley Smith. They are buried at Dogwood Cemetery in Tunnel Hill, GA. Pa Tom was Thomas Napoleon Franks, born Sept. 18, 1895 and died March 27, 1977. They were married on April 3, 1916 and Granny always said that she was 13 at the time. But by my calculations, I think she was 14. By the time she was 20, she had 4 children and had buried 2 of them. Jesse Luther Franks lived to adulthood and so did Ruby Lee Franks. But Arville and Willie Mae died as babies and are buried at Dunagan Cemetery in Whitfield County in unmarked graves. Her youngest son, Ralph Winston Franks has marked these graves with a PVC pipe for the location but no headstones. Granny Franks would go many times to the cemetery and place flowers on the graves and Ruby continued the practice after her mom died. Tom and Ella are buried at Dunagan as well as Pa Tom's parents, Andrew Jefferson "Harve" Franks and Emily Bandy Franks.
When I first met Granny Franks, in 1962, I had arrived at her house with Marvin. We rode with Grady and Essie Burns to Pa Tom's house for a visit. They lived on the Cline Rd. in a small 4 room house with no indoor plumbing. I thought I would bust before I got back to "civilization". They also heated their home with a fireplace. Pa Tom would sit in his chair to watch the news on TV. After that, it was turned off. Occasionally, he would watch wrestling on Saturday nights but nothing else. It was a waste of electricity. Granny Franks was blunt in the way she talked and didn't pull any punches. She proceeded to tell Grady and Marvin that they should swap partners. The girls didn't match their personalities. I thought Essie would have a fit. She doesn't like me to this day. Grady was my friend, but jealously has a way of destroying many relationships.
Now Pa Tom liked to take a nip now and then and Granny Franks just couldn't stand the thought of this happening. She would often tell her son, Clyde, " Now don't you stop at that store and buy no whiskey. I can still take a switch to your backside." This was funny to me as she kept a bottle of wine beside her bed and every night, she would fill her thimble full and drink it before bed. She would tell you right quick," The Bible says take a little wine for the stomach's sake and that is what I do."
Granny Franks had a set of twin boys named Claude Edward and Clyde Andrew Franks. I could not tell these boys apart for anything. For a long time, I had to see them with their wives to know which one was which.Claude had married Aveline Chitwood. She was a twin as well and they had a set of twins, Reid and Rachel. They had 3 other children as well.
Clyde married a woman named Wanda Faye. They had 6 children, with only one girl out of the bunch named Connie. After Connie married, she had a set of twins.
Granny Franks could make the best egg custard in the world. Many times when I visited, she would have some cooling on the kitchen table. But she wouldn't cut them until Sunday dinner. She dearly loved fried rabbit. Ruby said she grew up with this meat for breakfast. Many years ago, people that lived in the country would eat rabbit since they didn't get to town very often to buy meat. Most farms raised their own meat for food. Hogs, chickens and cows and sometimes a few goats. They caught squirrels and rabbits as well. Cows were used more for milk and butter and Granny Franks had her favorite churn that she used for many years. One morning after Granny Franks got sick just before her death, Ruby called me to visit the store for her. I asked her what she wanted me to get? She wanted me to go to the old Colonial store where IGA is located now and get a rabbit. I didn't know that you could buy them cut up ready to fry. But they had them in the freezer section and so I bought it and took it to Ruby's house. She fried it and made biscuits and gravy. Granny Franks ate a little of this and died the next day. Its funny what people want to eat when they know it is their end of days.
Right after Jeff was born in 1966, it was Granny and Pa Tom's anniversary for 50 years. They wanted to go to Crawford Springs for a picnic. A lot of the family gathered at their house and we left. After lunch, it started to get very cold. We headed back to the house and on the way, it started to snow. By the time we got home, we had about 3 or 4 inches on the ground and my clothes froze on the line. Granny and Pa Tom had to stay at Ruby's house as the roads were closed and they couldn't get home. For their 60 anniversary, we had a big dinner at their home on the Cline Rd. Just about the whole family was there. They made a 5 generation picture with Granny Franks and Pa Tom, Ruby Franks Dean, Grady Burns with his son, Travis Burns, and the great great grandchild, Christy Burns. This was in 1976. Pa Tom died the next year. He started having mini strokes that made him bed ridden until his death. I spent many nights at their home sitting with Ruby while Granny Franks could get some rest. Ruth would sit as well on alternate nights. This is when Ruth made her puff and stuff quilt. I had never seen one before and it turned out very well. Ruby would piece quilts as well but mostly she would mend clothes. I treasure the memories that I have of them and wanted to share them with my children. As they grow older, they can hand down some of these stories to their children. Every one should keep up with their family. Genealogy is over 1/4 of the bible. If GOD wanted a record kept, then so should we.
All their children consisted of:
Jesse Luther Franks
Ruby Lee Franks
Arville Franks
Willie Mae Franks
Robert Clayton Franks
Claude Edward Franks
Clyde Andrew Franks
Ruth Francis Franks
Ralph Winston Franks
Sunday, November 27, 2011
MY FAVORITE PEOPLE by TANDON LEE MABE
My great grandson gave me this story this morning so I wanted to put it on my blog. He has decided to write stories like me. He wanted to know how to get it published but what he actually said was, "He wanted other people to read it." This is his story exactly the way he wrote it.
MY FAVORITE PEOPLE by LEE MABE
My two favorite people are my Granny Rhonda and my mom. Even though my mom was not always there for me, I still love her and my Granny was there for me alot. My Granny was good to me alot only when I was good. But when Iwas not good, she would be mean to me. My mom was nice too, like my Granny. But one time when I was real bad, she whipped me. But my mom is real nice and cool like other mom's. And my Granny is nice and cool like other Grannys. They are both the same amount of nice and cool.
by Lee Mabe
MY FAVORITE PEOPLE by LEE MABE
My two favorite people are my Granny Rhonda and my mom. Even though my mom was not always there for me, I still love her and my Granny was there for me alot. My Granny was good to me alot only when I was good. But when Iwas not good, she would be mean to me. My mom was nice too, like my Granny. But one time when I was real bad, she whipped me. But my mom is real nice and cool like other mom's. And my Granny is nice and cool like other Grannys. They are both the same amount of nice and cool.
by Lee Mabe
Friday, November 18, 2011
DEAR SANTA, PLEASE BRING JESUS
Back in 1990, when I was with a singing group called "The Sounds of Praise" I had an opportunity to be in contact with a man named Billy Graham. Now this is not the famous one, just a small person in Georgia who wrote poems and tried to get them published. It just so happened that he had been to Nashville this day with a Christmas poem that he thought would be significant for this season since the drug increase was so prominent at this time. They told him it was to late in the season to release a Christmas poem so he started back home.
Our group was practicing at a store we had rented for a Bible book store. He had a flat tire in front of our place so we helped him out. We even rented him a room for the night so he could get a fresh start the next morning. When he saw that we were singing gospel songs, he gave me this poem and told me to use it in anyway I could for God's purpose. As I read the poem, tears flowed down my cheeks and I couldn't finish reading. Jesus said "Suffer the little children to come unto me and forbid them not for of such is the kingdom of Heaven." We started reading this poem on our radio broadcast on Sunday morning and had so many requests that I had it printed on flyer's to give to anyone who wanted it. As you read the following poem just see if it effects your heart and life like it has mine.
Dear Santa,
Please bring Jesus and leave Him under my tree
aw' it wont take you long
and that's all I want for me
I didn't want to ask you for an awlful lot of toys
just bring me Jesus, give the rest to other girls and boys
you see I have no hands to ride a bike
nor eyes for a fancy treat
I need no scooter or kick and go
for I have no feet
don't bring me no cowboy hat
my head's a different shape
no pretty clothes to wear,
I have mine special made.
You see, my mom was a drug abuser
and she took an over dose
y' me even being here
came mighty close
December 25, 1980,
that's the day I was born.
My mom was in a coma
she died the next morn.
But Santa, papa says when Jesus comes
I'll be just like new
I'll be like all my other friends
Billy, Tommy, and Sue
So that is why I ask you Santa
and I hope that you can see
just bring me Jesus
and leave Him under my tree.
Love
Billy
p.s. I hope you enjoy your cake and coffee.
Our group was practicing at a store we had rented for a Bible book store. He had a flat tire in front of our place so we helped him out. We even rented him a room for the night so he could get a fresh start the next morning. When he saw that we were singing gospel songs, he gave me this poem and told me to use it in anyway I could for God's purpose. As I read the poem, tears flowed down my cheeks and I couldn't finish reading. Jesus said "Suffer the little children to come unto me and forbid them not for of such is the kingdom of Heaven." We started reading this poem on our radio broadcast on Sunday morning and had so many requests that I had it printed on flyer's to give to anyone who wanted it. As you read the following poem just see if it effects your heart and life like it has mine.
Dear Santa,
Please bring Jesus and leave Him under my tree
aw' it wont take you long
and that's all I want for me
I didn't want to ask you for an awlful lot of toys
just bring me Jesus, give the rest to other girls and boys
you see I have no hands to ride a bike
nor eyes for a fancy treat
I need no scooter or kick and go
for I have no feet
don't bring me no cowboy hat
my head's a different shape
no pretty clothes to wear,
I have mine special made.
You see, my mom was a drug abuser
and she took an over dose
y' me even being here
came mighty close
December 25, 1980,
that's the day I was born.
My mom was in a coma
she died the next morn.
But Santa, papa says when Jesus comes
I'll be just like new
I'll be like all my other friends
Billy, Tommy, and Sue
So that is why I ask you Santa
and I hope that you can see
just bring me Jesus
and leave Him under my tree.
Love
Billy
p.s. I hope you enjoy your cake and coffee.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
SILAS MERCER BROWN-my second great grandfather
An interesting turn of events happened yesterday in the book of my life-I received information about my 2nd great grandfather, Silas Mercer Brown. I have been searching for him many, many years and a cousin obtained the death certificate for his daughter, Eliza Caroline Brown Beall and had the parents names-Mercer Brown and Eliza Chandler. Now the fun begins as I search for his parents. Found her parents as she is the second cousin of my great grandfather, Noble Newnan Beall who married Silas' daughter. Also, an interesting thing happened when I went to the website findagrave.com to view his memorial. There was a note of thanks for contributions to "Sacred Harp" music. Says he was a noted singer and songwriter and published in this book. This tells me that just about all the music ability in the family came from this man and I thought it all came from the Beall side as my grandfather and all his brothers wrote gospel music. Just wish my dad had known all about him. Well I have alot more relatives to find and maybe contact the living ones if they have a tree on ancestry.
S. M. Brown 1811, March 29, 1881. Was born in South Carolina and moved to Georgia in 1834, settling in what would become Haralson County. His given name is something of a mystery as it is given as Silas in the1870 Federal census, but Samuel in the 1880 census. He married Elizabeth Chandler (Eliza or Lucy) in 1836. A farmer, he served as Justice of the Peace in 1868-69. Brown was the first secretary of the Tallapoosa Musical Convention in 1867 and also participated in the Chattahoochee Convention. He contributed several truly memorable tunes to the 1870 Sacred Harp, all marked "original" indicating that they had not even been published previously. His obituary in the 15 April 1881 Carroll County Times reads:
"We regret to chronicle the death of Hon. S. M. Brown of Haralson county. He died of chronic liver disease. He was well known to all the old citizens of Carroll and adjoining counties and was thought well of far and near. He was a good singer and a composer of music. He had several pieces of music in the Sacred Harp and we hope Bro. Ripples will sing two of his compositions found on page 138 and 384 of the Sacred Harp, in remembrance of Bro. Brown, as it was his request to have them sung before his death by his friends."
Later that year, on 14 August, the Tallapoosa Musical Convention passed a memorial resolution stating:
"Since our last meeting, Death has visited our musical family. Bro. S. M. Brown was born in South Carolina in 1811 and moved to Georgia in 1834 and in 1836 was married to Miss Lucy Chandler. He never made any public profession of religion, but his walk and conversation imitated that of a christian. He was a dear lover of music. Just before his death, he raised his hands toward heaven and said, "I want to go up yonder." He breathed his last on March 29th, 1881. He was a kind father and an affectionate husband. He has left a kind wife, eight children and many friends to mourn his loss.
.
1. Resolved, that in the death of Brother Brown, the convention has lost one of its best standards.
2. Resolved, that we would say to the children to try and imitate the steps of their father.
3. Resolved, that our prayer is that when we leave this land of toil we may strike hands with him beyond the river Jordan.
4. Resolved that we sing the tune "Span of Life" led by Bro. C. J. Cook and engage in prayer, led by Bro. T. L. Lassiter.
5. Resolved that the proceedings be recorded on the convention book and a copy sent to the Carroll County Times for publication and request that the Cedartown paper to copy, and a copy be sent to the family of the deceased Brother.
J.M. Hamrick / B.O. Monroe / S/ Edwards, Committee
page 138 "Ogletree"
Frequent the day of God's return
To shed its quick'ning beams;
And yet how slow devotion burns,
How languid are its flames.
page 322 "Man's Redemption"
The glorious plan of man's redemption
By the Son of God was wrought,
To save the lost and ruined nation,
So to Heav'n we might be brought.
Chorus:
Glory, honor, and salvation,
To the Lamb who once was slain;
Sound His praise thro' ev'ry nation,
May it never cease again.
page 384 "Panting for Heaven"
O when will the period appear
When I shall unite in your song?
I’m weary of lingering here,
And I to your Savior belong.
I’m fettered and chained up in clay,
I struggle and pant to be free,
I long to be soaring away,
My God and my Savior to see.
page 379 "Span of Life"
My span of life will soon be gone,
The passing moments say;
As length’ning shadows o’er the mead
Proclaim the close of day.
O that my heart might dwell aloof
From all created things,
And learn that wisdom from above,
Whence true contentment springs.
S. M. Brown 1811, March 29, 1881. Was born in South Carolina and moved to Georgia in 1834, settling in what would become Haralson County. His given name is something of a mystery as it is given as Silas in the1870 Federal census, but Samuel in the 1880 census. He married Elizabeth Chandler (Eliza or Lucy) in 1836. A farmer, he served as Justice of the Peace in 1868-69. Brown was the first secretary of the Tallapoosa Musical Convention in 1867 and also participated in the Chattahoochee Convention. He contributed several truly memorable tunes to the 1870 Sacred Harp, all marked "original" indicating that they had not even been published previously. His obituary in the 15 April 1881 Carroll County Times reads:
"We regret to chronicle the death of Hon. S. M. Brown of Haralson county. He died of chronic liver disease. He was well known to all the old citizens of Carroll and adjoining counties and was thought well of far and near. He was a good singer and a composer of music. He had several pieces of music in the Sacred Harp and we hope Bro. Ripples will sing two of his compositions found on page 138 and 384 of the Sacred Harp, in remembrance of Bro. Brown, as it was his request to have them sung before his death by his friends."
Later that year, on 14 August, the Tallapoosa Musical Convention passed a memorial resolution stating:
"Since our last meeting, Death has visited our musical family. Bro. S. M. Brown was born in South Carolina in 1811 and moved to Georgia in 1834 and in 1836 was married to Miss Lucy Chandler. He never made any public profession of religion, but his walk and conversation imitated that of a christian. He was a dear lover of music. Just before his death, he raised his hands toward heaven and said, "I want to go up yonder." He breathed his last on March 29th, 1881. He was a kind father and an affectionate husband. He has left a kind wife, eight children and many friends to mourn his loss.
.
1. Resolved, that in the death of Brother Brown, the convention has lost one of its best standards.
2. Resolved, that we would say to the children to try and imitate the steps of their father.
3. Resolved, that our prayer is that when we leave this land of toil we may strike hands with him beyond the river Jordan.
4. Resolved that we sing the tune "Span of Life" led by Bro. C. J. Cook and engage in prayer, led by Bro. T. L. Lassiter.
5. Resolved that the proceedings be recorded on the convention book and a copy sent to the Carroll County Times for publication and request that the Cedartown paper to copy, and a copy be sent to the family of the deceased Brother.
J.M. Hamrick / B.O. Monroe / S/ Edwards, Committee
page 138 "Ogletree"
Frequent the day of God's return
To shed its quick'ning beams;
And yet how slow devotion burns,
How languid are its flames.
page 322 "Man's Redemption"
The glorious plan of man's redemption
By the Son of God was wrought,
To save the lost and ruined nation,
So to Heav'n we might be brought.
Chorus:
Glory, honor, and salvation,
To the Lamb who once was slain;
Sound His praise thro' ev'ry nation,
May it never cease again.
page 384 "Panting for Heaven"
O when will the period appear
When I shall unite in your song?
I’m weary of lingering here,
And I to your Savior belong.
I’m fettered and chained up in clay,
I struggle and pant to be free,
I long to be soaring away,
My God and my Savior to see.
page 379 "Span of Life"
My span of life will soon be gone,
The passing moments say;
As length’ning shadows o’er the mead
Proclaim the close of day.
O that my heart might dwell aloof
From all created things,
And learn that wisdom from above,
Whence true contentment springs.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
ESCO'S HOMEBREW
Well how many of you know about homebrew? Believe me, you don't want to know. I never knew what it was until I married in 1962. I had never even heard of anything like the beverage. My mother-in-law's husband, Esco Dean, loved this drink and made it quite often. I don't know what the ingredients are, but he made it in an old churn. I know that he used a lot of sugar and yeast as well as "hops." Am not sure of the amounts but it had to sit for a while as he called it, "workin' itself." He would tie an old white rag around the top and usually it set for about 2 weeks. When it was finished, he had some old 16 oz. Double Cola bottles that he put the finished beverage into and capped it. He had an old antique bottle capper that looked like something they used to cap Coke bottles. He usually made about 24 bottles and set them out in his shed out of the way. When he wanted a bottle, he would walk outside and drink a bottle while he was in the yard.
Esco had a Trading Post where he sold antique furniture. He would go to auction sales and buy this "junk" that I called it, only he called it merchandise and refinish it. It looked like new when he was done. The pre-finished furniture was in the shed where he kept his homebrew. It was hid in the back of the building so no one could find it. I never knew who he thought would drink that stuff. I couldn't stand the smell.
Well one evening while he was watching wrestling, I think it was a Saturday night, we heard a noise like a gun shot. We had some neighbors that liked to shoot at the blackbirds that got in his garden so we didn't pay much attention to the sound. When it happened again, I turned and looked out the window and didn't see the neighbor. All of a sudden, 3 or 4 more pops sounded and then Esco decided to go find out what the commotion was in the yard. Ruby and I followed him to the back door as the popping continued. It seemed to be coming from the shed. When he opened the door, a bottle cap hit him in the head and he ran. When the sound finished, he went in the shed to find all his homebrew was spewing in the floor. None was saved. Seems as if the bottles were too hot and exploded, and homebrew went on every piece of furniture in the building. He lost that batch and didn't make anymore until cold weather. I don't think he made anymore in hot weather as I remember. Usually it was sitting in the kitchen floor after Thanksgiving and it would be gone before Christmas.
Esco had a Trading Post where he sold antique furniture. He would go to auction sales and buy this "junk" that I called it, only he called it merchandise and refinish it. It looked like new when he was done. The pre-finished furniture was in the shed where he kept his homebrew. It was hid in the back of the building so no one could find it. I never knew who he thought would drink that stuff. I couldn't stand the smell.
Well one evening while he was watching wrestling, I think it was a Saturday night, we heard a noise like a gun shot. We had some neighbors that liked to shoot at the blackbirds that got in his garden so we didn't pay much attention to the sound. When it happened again, I turned and looked out the window and didn't see the neighbor. All of a sudden, 3 or 4 more pops sounded and then Esco decided to go find out what the commotion was in the yard. Ruby and I followed him to the back door as the popping continued. It seemed to be coming from the shed. When he opened the door, a bottle cap hit him in the head and he ran. When the sound finished, he went in the shed to find all his homebrew was spewing in the floor. None was saved. Seems as if the bottles were too hot and exploded, and homebrew went on every piece of furniture in the building. He lost that batch and didn't make anymore until cold weather. I don't think he made anymore in hot weather as I remember. Usually it was sitting in the kitchen floor after Thanksgiving and it would be gone before Christmas.
Friday, September 30, 2011
THE MYSTERY OF NINIAN BEALL'S BURIAL PLACE REMAINS UNSOLVED
About 20 years when I started my family tree, I was just learning how to maneuver around the web. A friend told me if I wanted to find out something, just go to a search engine and put in the subject. Well I put Ninian Beall on google and so much came up, I couldn't read it all on my break so I had to do it over a period of time. But one of the things that I did save was an article about the burial place of Ninian Beall by George Magruder Battey. Well I read the article and told my dad about it leading to Dr. Robert Battey of Rome history. The old Battey hospital was named for him. I didn't think much about it until recently when I was on a facebook section called "I Grew Up In Rome, GA"(memories) Some one mentioned a book about Rome by George Magruder Battey. I decided I would google the book or try for a biography of G M Battey and found out that he was from Rome, GA. His grandfather was Dr. Robert Battey. Dr. Battey was born in Augusta, GA to Cephas Battey and Mary Agnes Magruder. Mary died when Robert was 12 and his father died when he was 7 so he was raised by some friends and relatives in Augusta. He finished school and became a doctor. He raised his family in Rome, GA. I didn't find much of a biography on the grandson so I went back to my tree to see if I could make the connection. I knew that one of Ninian Beall's daughters (Sarah) had married a Magruder and one of his sons had also married a Magruder. So that is where I started. It took me a while, about 48 hours to make the connection as 3 people were named Ninian Magruder in suscetion. This included another Magruder marrying another Beall (Lucy.) Now I know that we are not really related, not even branch kin, but it is good to know that my ancestor had produced so many doctors, lawyers, judges, congressmen and Maryland Governors by name Sprigg, Pratt, Lowe, and Warfield. The following is the article written by G M Battey about Ninian Beall's burial location.
The mystery of Ninian Beall's burial place remains unsolved by George Magruder BatteyAt a recent dinner party in Washington assembling a group of descendants of Col. Ninian Beall, Maryland pioneer, the question of where he was buried was animatedly discussed. From the conclusions arrived at it would seem that this red-haired giant, who was reputedly six feet seven inches tall, possessed the unusual faculty of occupying several places at once.*
*The following quotation is from Sally Somerwell Mackally, Early Days of Washington, p. 48: "In 1783 there were no public burying grounds. Prominent families had private ones adjoining their homes. Ninian Beall's lot was on Gay [N] street [Georgetown]. In recent years this lot has been built upon, and when the foundations were being dug... the body of Ninian Beall was removed. His skeleton was found in perfect preservation, and measured six feet seven inches, and his hair which was very red had retained its natural color." --En. The guests had in mind a proposition to erect a monument to the memory of their remarkable Scotch forebear, provided they could definitely locate his sacred dust, and provided further that the spot, once found, should be suitable to such a plan. They recalled that the matter had been mooted for many years, with the same result, and they went home.
It is with a feeling that Colonel Beall has been scantily recognized by history and will stand further interpretation and appreciation that the writer has taken up his pen.
Science has prolonged the life of the average man of this day to some 35 years, and in contrast with this limit we note that Colonel Beall lived to 92. In point of years, then, he lived nearly three average lives; and in point of accomplishment and hair-raising adventure (fighting Oliver Cromwell in Scotland and Indians and other troublesome elements in the new country of America) he packed at least six lives into one.
Colonel Beall never paid any attention to the old Biblical injunction to attain a stretch of three score years and ten, and then shake off this mortal coil. At 70 he had just begun to accumulate momentum. When he turned this familiar corner he was met by various committees who suggested it was time to retire and take things easy. He waved the committees aside, got himself appointed or elected to the Maryland Legislature, continued to fight Indians and put down other unruly elements, rode his spirited horse over his numerous plantations, especially in Prince George County, which in the production of tobacco topped all neighborhoods of the Tobacco Belt.
As a young man Colonel Beall just couldn't get started. He was born in 1625 at Largs, Fifeshire, Scotland, on the Firth of Forth, near the scene of recent German bombardments. Largs was the native town of Alexander Sclkirk*, who, in the Queen Anne age, was marooned on the Island of Juan Fernandez in the South Pacific and thereby furnished Daniel Defoe with the materials for the world-famous romance of "Robinson Crusoe." Ninian Beall was the son of Dr. James Beall (or Bell), of Largs. People married earlier in that day, as they had fewer responsibilities and more money, particularly those who entertained some hope of emigrating to America and populating the broad expanses on this side. Ninian Beall is reliably reported to have married one Elizabeth Gordon in Scotland.
The matter of coming to America in 1650 when 25 years old was an afterthought. In fact, it was not his thought at all, but Oliver Cromwell's. The thought in that connection was that the rangy young Ninian would add greatly to the Cornwellian manpower needed to produce raw materials in the American Valhalla.
The idea came into Cromwell's head as the result of spreading his war net for canny Scots at the Battle of Dunbar across the Firth of Forth from Ninian's home. The fatal date was Sept. 3, 1650, of a morning. Cromwell's 12,000 "Ironsides" had fallen back before the 23,000 Scotch under command of David Lesley, and come to a halt at Dunbar, in a valley.
The Scotch commanded the surrounding hills and passes and could have soon starved the Cromwell force except that dissension broke out in their own camp and led them into a monumental blunder. The swordbearing preachers who had accompanied the Scotch army prevailed upon Lesley to dismiss the Cavaliers from his ranks and to give up the high ground and meet the English on the plain. The battle raged for an hour on equal terms until Cromwell's cavalry, coming up, turned the tide.
We can assume that as Cavalier or otherwise, Ninian Beall was in the thick of the fight, leading a detachment but powerless to stop the rout of his countrymen, who negotiated those craggy hillsides with the alacrity of billygoats and made tracks for Edinburgh. Ten thousand Scots, including our hero, were captured, and the booty consisted of all the artillery, 15,000 stands of arms, and 200 colors, not to mention the kilties.
The Tower of London and the jails of England were insufficient to contain such a horde of prisoners, for concentration camps were then unknown. The embarrassment of housing and feeding so many was so great that Cromwell quickly released 3,000, but these did not include the doughty Ninian, who as a staunch supporter of the evanescent and exiled Charles II was considered a "rare specimen."
The "spoils system" did not start with Andrew Jackson in the early days of the United States. It probably started before Oliver Cromwell. At any rate, Cromwell profited by it or turned it to the account of England. He packed a lot of those Dunbar prisoners off to the Island of Barbados, in the West Indies, on cockleshell sailing ships, to do time. Ninian Beall, of the flint-and-steel makeup, he who had been captured but not conquered, went along.
Barbados was a large island with highly fertile valleys and snug harbors. It was ruled by Governor Searle and his retinue of plantation grandees. Tobacco and cotton were the principal crops, with sugar cane and molasses as the minor items. The grandees were closely allied with the London merchants, who had bought the Dunbar prisoners at public auction and placed upon them the obligation of working five years, seven years or some other number of years to "pay their way out."
Governor Searle soon had so many captives from Scotland and Ireland that he and his staff proposed to Cromwell the grandiloquent plan of driving the Spanish out of the western world; "and see," exulted the Governor, "our proud little island alone can furnish you 10,000 strong fighting men." Despite the fact that Cromwell adopted the plan, it proved unpopular with the merchants and the grandees, with the result that only 2,000 recruits left the island for the Spanish Main, and the expedition proved a failure for want of adequate support.
We do not know how Ninian Beall figured in this mixup. We only know he showed up in Calvert County, Maryland, about 1657, with the determination to make a new start in life. Subsequently he was identified with Prince George County, which was cut off Calvert. He may have driven some kind of bargain with Governor Searle, or swam to Florida and footed it to Maryland, for he had heard that in this State the English followers of Sir Walter Raleigh put their faith in excellent smoking tobacco.
Cromwell meanwhile, must have found some of his Scottish Barbados prisoners in the London ballrooms and ale shops, for he complained to Governor Searle, who meekly replied that if the men were leaving the grandee paradise, it was without his knowledge and consent.
Cromwell was pocketing a nice wad of money for the English Exchequer in the business of selling captives to the London merchants, and he continued fighting the adherents of Charles II until he had either laid them out or taken them into his bag. Came the final battle of Worcester in the shire which suggests appetizing sauce--a year to the day after Dunbar, that is, Sept. 3, 1651. We mark the date especially because in the is final stand of Charles II, by an odd quirk of fate, Cromwell captured another batch of troublesome men, including one whose son was subsequently to marry into the family of Ninian Beall. Reference is to Alexander Macgregor, a member of the outlawed Highland Clan Gregor which for 150 years resisted the attempt to unite Scotland and England at the expense of those knights of the thistle who held the clan system next to life itself.
Of the three brothers Macgregor in the Battle of Worcester, James was killed, and Alexander and John were taken prisoner and sent to Barbados, whence they proceeded to Maryland. By this time the two survivors had changed their name to MacGroother, which in time became Magruder. John Magruder died without issue. Alexander Magruder married as his first wife Margaret Braithwaite, daughter of William Braithwaite, Commander of the Isle of Kent, earliest seat of proprietary government in Maryland, member of the first General Assembly of the province, Acting Governor and cousin-german to Cecelius Calvert, second Lord Baltimore. He married secondly Sarah Hawkins, and thirdly, Elizabeth Hawkins. His son, Samuel Magruder I, born 1654 in Prince George County, married Sarah Beall, daughter of Col. Ninian Beall, and they became the ancestors of the numerous and prominent Magruders of Maryland, Virginia, Georgia, Mississippi, and elsewhere.
At 42 years of age, in 1667, Col. Ninian Beall married secondly 16-year-old Ruth Moore, daughter of Richard Moore, a Calvert County lawyer. The children of this union were numerous and are represented in Maryland by the families of Beall, Brooke, Bowie, Addison, Balch, Mackall, Washington, Johns, Magruder and others. Mr. J. Ninian Beall, Washington business man, has estimated that Col. Ninian Beall left 70,000 descendants, who can probably be found in every State of the Union. Colonel Beall died at "Bacon Hall," Prince George County, Md., 3 miles south of Upper Marlboro, in 1717.
As an illustration of the way the family tree branched, we may take the State of Georgia, to which Bealls and Magruders repaired from Maryland and Virginia in the great land boom following the Revolutionary War. Ninian Offutt Magruder settled as a planter in Columbus County, Ga., near Augusta, and from him descended Robert Battey, of Rome, physician and surgeon, and numerous progeny. Noble Peyton Beall and wife, Justiana Dickinson Hooper, settled in Franklin County, Ga., and from this union sprang (through Samuel Charles Candler and Martha Bernetta Beall) the remarkable family of Candler of Atlanta, including the late Asa Griggs Candler, of soft drink fame, and his brother, Bishop Warren Aiken Candler, of the Methodist Church, South, and former President of Emory College. On the bench, in business and political life, in science and the pulpit the Candlers, six generations down, have ably upheld the banner of the irrepressible nonagenarian who was the forbear of Maryland Governors Sprigg, Pratt, Lowe and Warfield.
Indeed, the various other ramifications of this pioneer family have averaged high, and have set a mark for future generations to emulate.
Some years ago, with symbolical reference to Colonel Beall's "Rock of Dumbarton" estate, on the terrace of the St. John's Episcopal Church in Georgetown was unveiled a bronze tablet, suitably inscribed and superimposed upon a massive stone.
Writes an enthusiastic red-haired descendant, Mrs. Rufus Lenoir Gwyn, of Lenoir, N.C., to whom we are indebted for the excellent portrait:
"Unless I'm greatly mistaken, Colonel Ninian Beall is buried beneath that stone."
*In further research, I found Alexander Sclkirk had a girlfriend by the name of Beall and they fought continuously until he left for the Islands.
It is with a feeling that Colonel Beall has been scantily recognized by history and will stand further interpretation and appreciation that the writer has taken up his pen.
Science has prolonged the life of the average man of this day to some 35 years, and in contrast with this limit we note that Colonel Beall lived to 92. In point of years, then, he lived nearly three average lives; and in point of accomplishment and hair-raising adventure (fighting Oliver Cromwell in Scotland and Indians and other troublesome elements in the new country of America) he packed at least six lives into one.
Colonel Beall never paid any attention to the old Biblical injunction to attain a stretch of three score years and ten, and then shake off this mortal coil. At 70 he had just begun to accumulate momentum. When he turned this familiar corner he was met by various committees who suggested it was time to retire and take things easy. He waved the committees aside, got himself appointed or elected to the Maryland Legislature, continued to fight Indians and put down other unruly elements, rode his spirited horse over his numerous plantations, especially in Prince George County, which in the production of tobacco topped all neighborhoods of the Tobacco Belt.
As a young man Colonel Beall just couldn't get started. He was born in 1625 at Largs, Fifeshire, Scotland, on the Firth of Forth, near the scene of recent German bombardments. Largs was the native town of Alexander Sclkirk*, who, in the Queen Anne age, was marooned on the Island of Juan Fernandez in the South Pacific and thereby furnished Daniel Defoe with the materials for the world-famous romance of "Robinson Crusoe." Ninian Beall was the son of Dr. James Beall (or Bell), of Largs. People married earlier in that day, as they had fewer responsibilities and more money, particularly those who entertained some hope of emigrating to America and populating the broad expanses on this side. Ninian Beall is reliably reported to have married one Elizabeth Gordon in Scotland.
The matter of coming to America in 1650 when 25 years old was an afterthought. In fact, it was not his thought at all, but Oliver Cromwell's. The thought in that connection was that the rangy young Ninian would add greatly to the Cornwellian manpower needed to produce raw materials in the American Valhalla.
The idea came into Cromwell's head as the result of spreading his war net for canny Scots at the Battle of Dunbar across the Firth of Forth from Ninian's home. The fatal date was Sept. 3, 1650, of a morning. Cromwell's 12,000 "Ironsides" had fallen back before the 23,000 Scotch under command of David Lesley, and come to a halt at Dunbar, in a valley.
The Scotch commanded the surrounding hills and passes and could have soon starved the Cromwell force except that dissension broke out in their own camp and led them into a monumental blunder. The swordbearing preachers who had accompanied the Scotch army prevailed upon Lesley to dismiss the Cavaliers from his ranks and to give up the high ground and meet the English on the plain. The battle raged for an hour on equal terms until Cromwell's cavalry, coming up, turned the tide.
We can assume that as Cavalier or otherwise, Ninian Beall was in the thick of the fight, leading a detachment but powerless to stop the rout of his countrymen, who negotiated those craggy hillsides with the alacrity of billygoats and made tracks for Edinburgh. Ten thousand Scots, including our hero, were captured, and the booty consisted of all the artillery, 15,000 stands of arms, and 200 colors, not to mention the kilties.
The Tower of London and the jails of England were insufficient to contain such a horde of prisoners, for concentration camps were then unknown. The embarrassment of housing and feeding so many was so great that Cromwell quickly released 3,000, but these did not include the doughty Ninian, who as a staunch supporter of the evanescent and exiled Charles II was considered a "rare specimen."
The "spoils system" did not start with Andrew Jackson in the early days of the United States. It probably started before Oliver Cromwell. At any rate, Cromwell profited by it or turned it to the account of England. He packed a lot of those Dunbar prisoners off to the Island of Barbados, in the West Indies, on cockleshell sailing ships, to do time. Ninian Beall, of the flint-and-steel makeup, he who had been captured but not conquered, went along.
Barbados was a large island with highly fertile valleys and snug harbors. It was ruled by Governor Searle and his retinue of plantation grandees. Tobacco and cotton were the principal crops, with sugar cane and molasses as the minor items. The grandees were closely allied with the London merchants, who had bought the Dunbar prisoners at public auction and placed upon them the obligation of working five years, seven years or some other number of years to "pay their way out."
Governor Searle soon had so many captives from Scotland and Ireland that he and his staff proposed to Cromwell the grandiloquent plan of driving the Spanish out of the western world; "and see," exulted the Governor, "our proud little island alone can furnish you 10,000 strong fighting men." Despite the fact that Cromwell adopted the plan, it proved unpopular with the merchants and the grandees, with the result that only 2,000 recruits left the island for the Spanish Main, and the expedition proved a failure for want of adequate support.
We do not know how Ninian Beall figured in this mixup. We only know he showed up in Calvert County, Maryland, about 1657, with the determination to make a new start in life. Subsequently he was identified with Prince George County, which was cut off Calvert. He may have driven some kind of bargain with Governor Searle, or swam to Florida and footed it to Maryland, for he had heard that in this State the English followers of Sir Walter Raleigh put their faith in excellent smoking tobacco.
Cromwell meanwhile, must have found some of his Scottish Barbados prisoners in the London ballrooms and ale shops, for he complained to Governor Searle, who meekly replied that if the men were leaving the grandee paradise, it was without his knowledge and consent.
Cromwell was pocketing a nice wad of money for the English Exchequer in the business of selling captives to the London merchants, and he continued fighting the adherents of Charles II until he had either laid them out or taken them into his bag. Came the final battle of Worcester in the shire which suggests appetizing sauce--a year to the day after Dunbar, that is, Sept. 3, 1651. We mark the date especially because in the is final stand of Charles II, by an odd quirk of fate, Cromwell captured another batch of troublesome men, including one whose son was subsequently to marry into the family of Ninian Beall. Reference is to Alexander Macgregor, a member of the outlawed Highland Clan Gregor which for 150 years resisted the attempt to unite Scotland and England at the expense of those knights of the thistle who held the clan system next to life itself.
Of the three brothers Macgregor in the Battle of Worcester, James was killed, and Alexander and John were taken prisoner and sent to Barbados, whence they proceeded to Maryland. By this time the two survivors had changed their name to MacGroother, which in time became Magruder. John Magruder died without issue. Alexander Magruder married as his first wife Margaret Braithwaite, daughter of William Braithwaite, Commander of the Isle of Kent, earliest seat of proprietary government in Maryland, member of the first General Assembly of the province, Acting Governor and cousin-german to Cecelius Calvert, second Lord Baltimore. He married secondly Sarah Hawkins, and thirdly, Elizabeth Hawkins. His son, Samuel Magruder I, born 1654 in Prince George County, married Sarah Beall, daughter of Col. Ninian Beall, and they became the ancestors of the numerous and prominent Magruders of Maryland, Virginia, Georgia, Mississippi, and elsewhere.
At 42 years of age, in 1667, Col. Ninian Beall married secondly 16-year-old Ruth Moore, daughter of Richard Moore, a Calvert County lawyer. The children of this union were numerous and are represented in Maryland by the families of Beall, Brooke, Bowie, Addison, Balch, Mackall, Washington, Johns, Magruder and others. Mr. J. Ninian Beall, Washington business man, has estimated that Col. Ninian Beall left 70,000 descendants, who can probably be found in every State of the Union. Colonel Beall died at "Bacon Hall," Prince George County, Md., 3 miles south of Upper Marlboro, in 1717.
As an illustration of the way the family tree branched, we may take the State of Georgia, to which Bealls and Magruders repaired from Maryland and Virginia in the great land boom following the Revolutionary War. Ninian Offutt Magruder settled as a planter in Columbus County, Ga., near Augusta, and from him descended Robert Battey, of Rome, physician and surgeon, and numerous progeny. Noble Peyton Beall and wife, Justiana Dickinson Hooper, settled in Franklin County, Ga., and from this union sprang (through Samuel Charles Candler and Martha Bernetta Beall) the remarkable family of Candler of Atlanta, including the late Asa Griggs Candler, of soft drink fame, and his brother, Bishop Warren Aiken Candler, of the Methodist Church, South, and former President of Emory College. On the bench, in business and political life, in science and the pulpit the Candlers, six generations down, have ably upheld the banner of the irrepressible nonagenarian who was the forbear of Maryland Governors Sprigg, Pratt, Lowe and Warfield.
Indeed, the various other ramifications of this pioneer family have averaged high, and have set a mark for future generations to emulate.
Some years ago, with symbolical reference to Colonel Beall's "Rock of Dumbarton" estate, on the terrace of the St. John's Episcopal Church in Georgetown was unveiled a bronze tablet, suitably inscribed and superimposed upon a massive stone.
Writes an enthusiastic red-haired descendant, Mrs. Rufus Lenoir Gwyn, of Lenoir, N.C., to whom we are indebted for the excellent portrait:
"Unless I'm greatly mistaken, Colonel Ninian Beall is buried beneath that stone."
*In further research, I found Alexander Sclkirk had a girlfriend by the name of Beall and they fought continuously until he left for the Islands.
BEALL FAMILY HISTORY-AUGUSTUS C. BEALL AND THOMAS F. BEALL
I recently read an article about the Beall's from Texas and thought I would add to my blog. My dad told my that he had relatives that moved to Texas because his dad wrote letters to them. I never found any of the paper work of my granddad's as I think it went to my step-mom's family. Any way, I never saw any of this, just a few pictures. The following is about Augustus Chandler Beall and his second son, Thomas Frederick Beall. Thomas would have been my granddad's first cousin. The story was written by his granddaughter, Gladys Viola Anderson.
BEALL HISTORY part 1
from a great granddaughter of Augustus Chandler Beall
this is typed exactly as it is handwritten
For the love I have for my ancestors and the knowledge I have that we are to be one grand family in the here after.
I write a story of my beloved Grandfather, Thomas Frederick Beall was born 24 May 1848 in Rusk Co Texas. He was the second son of Augustus C. Beall and Charlotte Elizabeth Coltharp. Augustus C was born 20 Jan 1819, he was the son of (Gen.) William O. Beall and Nancy Farmer Chandler, they were from Franklin Co. Ga.
Charlotte Elizabeth Coltharp was born 26 Oct 1830, she was the daughter of James Coltharp and Joanna McSpadden. James Coltharp was born 21st Aug 1809. Joanna McSpadden was born 16 Aug 1801.
My Great Grandfather and Great Grandmother Augustus C. Beall and Charlotte Elizabeth Coltharp were married 24 of June 1845, Leak Co Miss. on Pearl River. They had the following children, William Wallace Beall(1846-1848), Thomas Frederic Beall(1848-1936), James Egbert "Eck". Beall(1851-1905),Joseph Chandler Beall(1853-1930) Nancy Joanna Beall(1857-1923), Jefferson Davis Beall(1861-1949), Emma Amelia Beall(1864-1881), John Arthur Beall(1867, Noble Bruce Beall(1870-1895), Martha Sophronia Beall(1875-1875). Walter Green Beall
Here is a little history of the Beall name, Augustus C. Beall ancestor's paternal Father (Gen.) William Beall, Grandfather (Gen) Frederick Beall; Great grandfather Thaddeus Beall. Thaddeus married his cousin Jane a sister of Daniel Beall. (Gen) Frederic Beall, married his cousin Martha Peyton Beall daughter of Daniel, her mother a Miss Martha Peyton.
The Beall family came South from the District of Columbia some years after the independence of the Colonies was established.
In Maryland, Kentucky and parts of Texas the name has usually been pronounced with the (long e) as Beals, but in Georgia and Miss. and east Texas it has been pronounced as it spelled Bell that is with the "a" silent.
This information about the Beall name was given to the family by John B. Beall.
BEALL HISTORY part 2
My Grand Father Thomas Frederick was born of Christian parents in a home filled with love. Most of the Beall family belonged to the Missionary Baptist Church.
To show the love they had for each other and the belief of God, here is a quotation from a letter written from Irvinton GA 3rd Feb 1848, written to my great grandfather Augustus C. Beall by his Bro. Thomas N. Beall. quote,
"Dear Augustus I hope if we shall never see each other this side of the grave for the finally faithful, I feel determined to try to live so as to get there. I hope to see my brothers and sisters, father & mother and all relatives in that bright world although we are scattered from Maine to Texas. If we live right before God, we shall finally all meet where the weary are at rest.
I remain your affection Bro Thomas N Beall "unquote"
Grandfather Thomas Frederick boyhood days were like most of the boys of that day. He came from a line of fine people, most of them were well fixed but not wealthy. Grandfather had a fair education, he loved books.
The years past on Grandfather at the age of 22 fell in love with a beautiful girl. Her name Margaret Missouri Cantrell. They were married 22 Dec 1870 Van Zandt Co Texas. Margaret was the fifth child of Zion and Eliza (Smith) Cantrell.
Margaret Missouri was born 20 Jan 1850 in Carrolton Ga and came to Texas when 4 years old.
The Bealls were a family who stood pioneer life with fine physique. Grandfather was a farmer which he enjoyed. He and his good wife were pioneers of West Texas. Ever year they would go further west, we know they had a hard time as all pioneers do. They raised a lovely family of ten children. Beaulah Morris, Otho Leslie, Nora Romeio, Adah Arthur, Florence Ila, Erin Mason, Walter Warren, Orin Homer, James Haile, Ollie May, and Addie Pearl Beall. Now if you are noticing that there are 11 children listed, Adah Arthur did not live to adulthood. She was killed. It is explained later in this story.
BEALL HISTORY part 3
My Mother Beaulah Morris Beall being the oldest child she remembered what pioneer life was like, My Mother told about the sad accident of her baby sister Adah Arthur being killed 13 July 1878 by a log rolling on her. Grandfather was hauling logs to make a home, they caught little Adah pinning her beneath it. Grandfather had gone after more logs, when the the accident happened. Grandma and my mother had to get her out with the help of the other little children.
Time marches on it is now May 1891 - Grandfather and Grandmother have arrived at Lockney, Floyd Co Texas. A vast prairie country to establish them another home. It was a new country no towns. There were a few pioneers coming in from other places. Among them was Thomas Franklin Anderson & family.
The Bealls and Anderson's settled close together, you can imagine what happened with young people in both families.
It was on a summer day the 10th of Aug 1892, that two lovers were joined in matrimony. Beaulah Morris Beall was married to John Killis Anderson. He was the son of Thomas Franklin Anderson and Margaret Elizabeth Hunter. Time marches on Mother & Dad had five children as follows. Thomas Franklin or sometimes called T. F., O. J. or Olen Jay, Bertie May, Gladys Viola, Lora Winona Anderson.
I knew my Grand father in his elder years, about the first I can remember of him we were living at Floyd, New Mexico. Grandfather & Grandmother came to see us. Aunt Pearl was teaching school in Trinidad, Colorado. They had been to see her and they came by our place on their way home. As they were leaving Grandfather gave Bertie and I enough money to get us a new dress. I can remember the cloth was pink with a little white strip in it, we called it our Grandpa dress.
BEALL HISTORY part 4
As I grew older I remember him as being about 5 ft 8 inch tall, weight 155 lb. Grandfather always had a good garden, flowers and fruit trees. _______________ Grandfathers & Grandma's and eat potatoes, gravy and beet pickles, oh boy how good.
Mother said Grandpa use to sing when you and I were young Maggie to Grandma as if it was composed for them.
I never lived around my Grandparents very much, as we lived in New Mexico, most of the time. As time marches on Father came to Arizona in April 1918. Father and Mother only stayed in Arizona three years. They went back to Lockney, Texas to be near grandfather and grandmother in their old age.
As time goes on we find it is 9 Oct 1935, we, that is my husband and children & I went to see Father & Mother and grandfather & grandmother. This was the last time I saw my grandparents, as each one was getting very feeble.
Grandfather passed away. 10 Jan 1936, being almost 86 years old.
Grandmother passed away 8 May 1937, she being 87 years old, both buried in Irick Cemetery in Lockney Texas. They lived to see their 10 children grow old.
Grandfather & Grandmother raised a grand daughter, her name Ina Lenora Beall. Ina Lenora is the daughter of Otho Leslie and Lelia Irene (Barnes) Beall
Ina Lenora Beall
Gladys Viola Anderson Pearce
33 N. Hibbert,
Mesa, Arizona
was born 6 Nov 1897 Floyd, Floyd Co Texas.
Ina married Clarence R. Cockerham 27 Sept 1914
Ina's mother, Lelia Irene Beall died 6 Dec 1897
Grandfather & Grand Mother had a host of grand children.
Written 8 Dec 1945, by a grand daughter
BEALL HISTORY part 1
from a great granddaughter of Augustus Chandler Beall
this is typed exactly as it is handwritten
For the love I have for my ancestors and the knowledge I have that we are to be one grand family in the here after.
I write a story of my beloved Grandfather, Thomas Frederick Beall was born 24 May 1848 in Rusk Co Texas. He was the second son of Augustus C. Beall and Charlotte Elizabeth Coltharp. Augustus C was born 20 Jan 1819, he was the son of (Gen.) William O. Beall and Nancy Farmer Chandler, they were from Franklin Co. Ga.
Charlotte Elizabeth Coltharp was born 26 Oct 1830, she was the daughter of James Coltharp and Joanna McSpadden. James Coltharp was born 21st Aug 1809. Joanna McSpadden was born 16 Aug 1801.
My Great Grandfather and Great Grandmother Augustus C. Beall and Charlotte Elizabeth Coltharp were married 24 of June 1845, Leak Co Miss. on Pearl River. They had the following children, William Wallace Beall(1846-1848), Thomas Frederic Beall(1848-1936), James Egbert "Eck". Beall(1851-1905),Joseph Chandler Beall(1853-1930) Nancy Joanna Beall(1857-1923), Jefferson Davis Beall(1861-1949), Emma Amelia Beall(1864-1881), John Arthur Beall(1867, Noble Bruce Beall(1870-1895), Martha Sophronia Beall(1875-1875). Walter Green Beall
Here is a little history of the Beall name, Augustus C. Beall ancestor's paternal Father (Gen.) William Beall, Grandfather (Gen) Frederick Beall; Great grandfather Thaddeus Beall. Thaddeus married his cousin Jane a sister of Daniel Beall. (Gen) Frederic Beall, married his cousin Martha Peyton Beall daughter of Daniel, her mother a Miss Martha Peyton.
The Beall family came South from the District of Columbia some years after the independence of the Colonies was established.
In Maryland, Kentucky and parts of Texas the name has usually been pronounced with the (long e) as Beals, but in Georgia and Miss. and east Texas it has been pronounced as it spelled Bell that is with the "a" silent.
This information about the Beall name was given to the family by John B. Beall.
BEALL HISTORY part 2
My Grand Father Thomas Frederick was born of Christian parents in a home filled with love. Most of the Beall family belonged to the Missionary Baptist Church.
To show the love they had for each other and the belief of God, here is a quotation from a letter written from Irvinton GA 3rd Feb 1848, written to my great grandfather Augustus C. Beall by his Bro. Thomas N. Beall. quote,
"Dear Augustus I hope if we shall never see each other this side of the grave for the finally faithful, I feel determined to try to live so as to get there. I hope to see my brothers and sisters, father & mother and all relatives in that bright world although we are scattered from Maine to Texas. If we live right before God, we shall finally all meet where the weary are at rest.
I remain your affection Bro Thomas N Beall "unquote"
Grandfather Thomas Frederick boyhood days were like most of the boys of that day. He came from a line of fine people, most of them were well fixed but not wealthy. Grandfather had a fair education, he loved books.
The years past on Grandfather at the age of 22 fell in love with a beautiful girl. Her name Margaret Missouri Cantrell. They were married 22 Dec 1870 Van Zandt Co Texas. Margaret was the fifth child of Zion and Eliza (Smith) Cantrell.
Margaret Missouri was born 20 Jan 1850 in Carrolton Ga and came to Texas when 4 years old.
The Bealls were a family who stood pioneer life with fine physique. Grandfather was a farmer which he enjoyed. He and his good wife were pioneers of West Texas. Ever year they would go further west, we know they had a hard time as all pioneers do. They raised a lovely family of ten children. Beaulah Morris, Otho Leslie, Nora Romeio, Adah Arthur, Florence Ila, Erin Mason, Walter Warren, Orin Homer, James Haile, Ollie May, and Addie Pearl Beall. Now if you are noticing that there are 11 children listed, Adah Arthur did not live to adulthood. She was killed. It is explained later in this story.
BEALL HISTORY part 3
My Mother Beaulah Morris Beall being the oldest child she remembered what pioneer life was like, My Mother told about the sad accident of her baby sister Adah Arthur being killed 13 July 1878 by a log rolling on her. Grandfather was hauling logs to make a home, they caught little Adah pinning her beneath it. Grandfather had gone after more logs, when the the accident happened. Grandma and my mother had to get her out with the help of the other little children.
Time marches on it is now May 1891 - Grandfather and Grandmother have arrived at Lockney, Floyd Co Texas. A vast prairie country to establish them another home. It was a new country no towns. There were a few pioneers coming in from other places. Among them was Thomas Franklin Anderson & family.
The Bealls and Anderson's settled close together, you can imagine what happened with young people in both families.
It was on a summer day the 10th of Aug 1892, that two lovers were joined in matrimony. Beaulah Morris Beall was married to John Killis Anderson. He was the son of Thomas Franklin Anderson and Margaret Elizabeth Hunter. Time marches on Mother & Dad had five children as follows. Thomas Franklin or sometimes called T. F., O. J. or Olen Jay, Bertie May, Gladys Viola, Lora Winona Anderson.
I knew my Grand father in his elder years, about the first I can remember of him we were living at Floyd, New Mexico. Grandfather & Grandmother came to see us. Aunt Pearl was teaching school in Trinidad, Colorado. They had been to see her and they came by our place on their way home. As they were leaving Grandfather gave Bertie and I enough money to get us a new dress. I can remember the cloth was pink with a little white strip in it, we called it our Grandpa dress.
BEALL HISTORY part 4
As I grew older I remember him as being about 5 ft 8 inch tall, weight 155 lb. Grandfather always had a good garden, flowers and fruit trees. _______________ Grandfathers & Grandma's and eat potatoes, gravy and beet pickles, oh boy how good.
Mother said Grandpa use to sing when you and I were young Maggie to Grandma as if it was composed for them.
I never lived around my Grandparents very much, as we lived in New Mexico, most of the time. As time marches on Father came to Arizona in April 1918. Father and Mother only stayed in Arizona three years. They went back to Lockney, Texas to be near grandfather and grandmother in their old age.
As time goes on we find it is 9 Oct 1935, we, that is my husband and children & I went to see Father & Mother and grandfather & grandmother. This was the last time I saw my grandparents, as each one was getting very feeble.
Grandfather passed away. 10 Jan 1936, being almost 86 years old.
Grandmother passed away 8 May 1937, she being 87 years old, both buried in Irick Cemetery in Lockney Texas. They lived to see their 10 children grow old.
Grandfather & Grandmother raised a grand daughter, her name Ina Lenora Beall. Ina Lenora is the daughter of Otho Leslie and Lelia Irene (Barnes) Beall
Ina Lenora Beall
Gladys Viola Anderson Pearce
33 N. Hibbert,
Mesa, Arizona
was born 6 Nov 1897 Floyd, Floyd Co Texas.
Ina married Clarence R. Cockerham 27 Sept 1914
Ina's mother, Lelia Irene Beall died 6 Dec 1897
Grandfather & Grand Mother had a host of grand children.
Written 8 Dec 1945, by a grand daughter
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
BALLAD OF MARY PHAGAN
When all the cousins met Saturday, we commented about going to Ma Jones' house and visiting many time in our youth.. You never sat in her rocker. And she would sing songs, particularly "Little Mary Phagan." I decided to find out what I could about this person.
Mary Phagan was born in Florence, Alabama, four months after her father died, into a family that had farmed in Georgia for generations. Her paternal grandfather, William Joshua Phagan provided her mother and siblings with a home near his in rural Marietta, but Phagan's mother moved the family to Eastpoint, where she opened a boarding house. The children took jobs in local mills. Mary left school at the age of ten to work part-time in a textile mill. She worked various places until the Spring of 1912 when she went to work at the National Pencil Factory. She earned $4.05 a week for 55 hours. The following is the song that my grandmother sang to us. We would sit and listen to every verse.
Little Mary Phagan, left her home one day;
She went to the pencil factory, To see the big parade.
She left her home at eleven, she kissed her mother good-by;
Not one time did the poor child think, that she was a going to die.
Leo Frank he met her, with a brutish heart we know;
He smiled and said, "Little Mary, you won't go home no more."
Sneaked along behind her, till she reached the medal-room;
He laughed, and said, "Little Mary, you have met your fatal doom."
Down upon her knees to Leo Frank she pled,
He'd taken a stick from the trash-pile and struck her cross the head.
Tears flowed down her rosey cheeks while the blood flowed down her back.
Remembered telling her mother what time she would be back.
You killed little Mary Phagan, it was on one holiday;
called for old Jim Conley to carry her body away.
He'd taken her to the basement, she was bound both hand and feet;
Down in the basement, little Mary she did sleep.
Newtley was the watchman who went to wind his key;
Down in the basement, little Mary he did see.
Went in and called the officers who names I do not know;
Come to the pencil factory, said, "Newtley, you must go.
Taken him to the jail-house, they locked him in a cell;
Poor old innocent negro, knew nothing for to tell.
Have a notion in my head, when Frank he comes to die;
Stand examination, in a courthouse in the sky.
Come, all you jolly people, wherever you may be;
Suppose little Mary Phagan, belonged to you or me.
Now little Mary's mother, she weeps and mourns all day;
Praying to meet little Mary in a better world someday.
Now little Mary's in heaven, Leo Frank's in jail;
waiting for the day to come, when he can tell his tale.
Frank will be astonished, when the angels come to say;
you killed little Mary Phagan; it was on one holiday.
Judge he passed the sentence, then he reared back;
if he hang Leo Frank, it won't bring Mary back.
Frank, he's got little children, and they will want for bread;
look up at their papa's picture, say "now my papa's dead."
Judge he pass the sentence, he reared back in his chair;
he will hang Leo Frank, and give the negro a year.
Next time he passed the sentence, you bet he passed it well;
Well, Solister H. M. sent Leo Frank to hell.
Mary Phagan was born in Florence, Alabama, four months after her father died, into a family that had farmed in Georgia for generations. Her paternal grandfather, William Joshua Phagan provided her mother and siblings with a home near his in rural Marietta, but Phagan's mother moved the family to Eastpoint, where she opened a boarding house. The children took jobs in local mills. Mary left school at the age of ten to work part-time in a textile mill. She worked various places until the Spring of 1912 when she went to work at the National Pencil Factory. She earned $4.05 a week for 55 hours. The following is the song that my grandmother sang to us. We would sit and listen to every verse.
Little Mary Phagan, left her home one day;
She went to the pencil factory, To see the big parade.
She left her home at eleven, she kissed her mother good-by;
Not one time did the poor child think, that she was a going to die.
Leo Frank he met her, with a brutish heart we know;
He smiled and said, "Little Mary, you won't go home no more."
Sneaked along behind her, till she reached the medal-room;
He laughed, and said, "Little Mary, you have met your fatal doom."
Down upon her knees to Leo Frank she pled,
He'd taken a stick from the trash-pile and struck her cross the head.
Tears flowed down her rosey cheeks while the blood flowed down her back.
Remembered telling her mother what time she would be back.
You killed little Mary Phagan, it was on one holiday;
called for old Jim Conley to carry her body away.
He'd taken her to the basement, she was bound both hand and feet;
Down in the basement, little Mary she did sleep.
Newtley was the watchman who went to wind his key;
Down in the basement, little Mary he did see.
Went in and called the officers who names I do not know;
Come to the pencil factory, said, "Newtley, you must go.
Taken him to the jail-house, they locked him in a cell;
Poor old innocent negro, knew nothing for to tell.
Have a notion in my head, when Frank he comes to die;
Stand examination, in a courthouse in the sky.
Come, all you jolly people, wherever you may be;
Suppose little Mary Phagan, belonged to you or me.
Now little Mary's mother, she weeps and mourns all day;
Praying to meet little Mary in a better world someday.
Now little Mary's in heaven, Leo Frank's in jail;
waiting for the day to come, when he can tell his tale.
Frank will be astonished, when the angels come to say;
you killed little Mary Phagan; it was on one holiday.
Judge he passed the sentence, then he reared back;
if he hang Leo Frank, it won't bring Mary back.
Frank, he's got little children, and they will want for bread;
look up at their papa's picture, say "now my papa's dead."
Judge he pass the sentence, he reared back in his chair;
he will hang Leo Frank, and give the negro a year.
Next time he passed the sentence, you bet he passed it well;
Well, Solister H. M. sent Leo Frank to hell.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
COUSINS TILL THE END
My cousins and I met for lunch on Saturday at the Cracker Barrell in Cartersville, GA. We had a great time. We are so blessed with our family. Cousins are best friends for life. They are always there for you when you need them, in the good times as well as the bad. Took plenty of pictures.
The whole gang starting from left to right-Diane Cambron Rood, Rhonda Beall Hawkins, Paula Whitehead Fuller, Brenda Jones Redd, Ovaline Greeson Dinning, Joann Greeson Bragg Ellis, Charlene Jones Odom, and our only surviving sibling of the Jones Clan-Aunt Doris Jones Sheppard.
We were all deep in thought, Diane, Rhonda and Paula. We were the 3 musketeers growing up. Usually when you saw one of us, you saw us all until we got in high school. Then Diane was at West Rome and Paula and I were at East Rome.
Aunt Doris with Joann and Ovaline. Doris is 80 years old and we are so blessed to have her still with us.
Paula and Diane on the bench in front of Cracker Barrell. Two very lovely young ladies.
Paula and Brenda can't make up their mind. For a while, I thought we wouldn't get a picture of Brenda. She was always behind the camera.
Charlene, Joann and Ovaline. At first, we couldn't get a round table and we were hollowing back and forth but we grabbed one as the people left before it was even cleaned. We had a great time and hope to do it again soon.
We could alway count on Ovaline to carry the conversation. No wonder she wanted a round table, she has to be looking at you to make sure you hear what she is saying. Bless her heart. I love her.
There were eleven granddaughters in all but we lost one in May-Helen Morris Paige. And 3 couldn't be with us. Ms. Kathy Mabry, Jean Cochran and Linda Russell. Jean is on dialysis now so please pray for her and her family at this time. Until next time. Rhonda
Aunt Doris with Joann and Ovaline. Doris is 80 years old and we are so blessed to have her still with us.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
SEARCHING FOR "HARVE'S" MOTHER
Harve is Andrew Jefferson Harve Franks, father of Thomas Napoleon Franks and the great, great grandfather of my children.
I started on this journey about 30 years ago when I first heard the story of the Franks. Seems like their granddaddy, Andrew Jefferson "Harve" Franks, liked to tell stories and the main one concerned the family heritage. He always stated that he was not a Franks but an Emerson. That his mother had been married before Wes and this man died leaving his mother with 2 sons. I hadn't done much on the family history at that time. Randall Franks had done some research and a family tree so I read a copy. It always stuck in my mind and I wanted to do some research in Tennessee but just couldn't find the time. After I retired, I acquired a computer and started a family tree on ancestry.com. I started searching out all the census records in TN to no avail. I was checking any message boards on Emerson's and just couldn't find any information. I did find Wes' dad, Hamilton Frank and all his siblings but nothing else. I found a marriage record for Wesly Frank and Rebecca Coon. Now I had a name to go with the mother. This went on for about 2 years and nothing more. One day, I decided to google Rebecca Coon Frank just by chance that I had missed something in the past 5 years. I came up with a Wiley Frank in TN who just happened to have a daughter named Rebecca E. who had married a George Coon.. I did a basic search and found that Rebecca's father, Wiley, and Hamilton Frank's father, James, were brothers. This made Rebecca and Ham, as he was called, first cousins. A little more search and I found a marriage record for Rebecca Frank and George Coon. On the 1870 census record, Rebecca is living in the home with her father and she has a son named John Coon. To add more interest, Rebecca's mother died and her father, Wiley, has married a woman named Elizabeth Emerson. Also, Rebecca has a brother named Robison. He has 2 children that marry Emersons'. Addie Frank married Jesse Emerson and William married Ellen Emerson so Harve would have had first cousins that were Emerson's. This had to mean something in this history. I have never believed in coincidence and they were cousins no less. The last record I had for Rebecca is in 1900 and she is called Rosey which could have been a nickname from childhood. She has been married for 27 years. Father-in-law, Hamilton, is living in the home. I don't know if this is the end of this brick wall, but it answers alot of questions. I just wish that Ruby, my mother-in-law, had known this before she died. However, she had all her answers when she reached Heaven.
I did find a possible location for the burial of Wiley Frank. Murray's Baptist Church Cemetery in Loudon County, Tennessee. There is no record on findagrave.com but I did find Addie Frank Emerson. Hoping a search of the genwebproject.com will have a record and I can add it to his page. I have found death locations of three of the siblings of Wesly Frank. Originally, this name did not contain an "s" but Harve added it when he moved to Georgia.
I started on this journey about 30 years ago when I first heard the story of the Franks. Seems like their granddaddy, Andrew Jefferson "Harve" Franks, liked to tell stories and the main one concerned the family heritage. He always stated that he was not a Franks but an Emerson. That his mother had been married before Wes and this man died leaving his mother with 2 sons. I hadn't done much on the family history at that time. Randall Franks had done some research and a family tree so I read a copy. It always stuck in my mind and I wanted to do some research in Tennessee but just couldn't find the time. After I retired, I acquired a computer and started a family tree on ancestry.com. I started searching out all the census records in TN to no avail. I was checking any message boards on Emerson's and just couldn't find any information. I did find Wes' dad, Hamilton Frank and all his siblings but nothing else. I found a marriage record for Wesly Frank and Rebecca Coon. Now I had a name to go with the mother. This went on for about 2 years and nothing more. One day, I decided to google Rebecca Coon Frank just by chance that I had missed something in the past 5 years. I came up with a Wiley Frank in TN who just happened to have a daughter named Rebecca E. who had married a George Coon.. I did a basic search and found that Rebecca's father, Wiley, and Hamilton Frank's father, James, were brothers. This made Rebecca and Ham, as he was called, first cousins. A little more search and I found a marriage record for Rebecca Frank and George Coon. On the 1870 census record, Rebecca is living in the home with her father and she has a son named John Coon. To add more interest, Rebecca's mother died and her father, Wiley, has married a woman named Elizabeth Emerson. Also, Rebecca has a brother named Robison. He has 2 children that marry Emersons'. Addie Frank married Jesse Emerson and William married Ellen Emerson so Harve would have had first cousins that were Emerson's. This had to mean something in this history. I have never believed in coincidence and they were cousins no less. The last record I had for Rebecca is in 1900 and she is called Rosey which could have been a nickname from childhood. She has been married for 27 years. Father-in-law, Hamilton, is living in the home. I don't know if this is the end of this brick wall, but it answers alot of questions. I just wish that Ruby, my mother-in-law, had known this before she died. However, she had all her answers when she reached Heaven.
I did find a possible location for the burial of Wiley Frank. Murray's Baptist Church Cemetery in Loudon County, Tennessee. There is no record on findagrave.com but I did find Addie Frank Emerson. Hoping a search of the genwebproject.com will have a record and I can add it to his page. I have found death locations of three of the siblings of Wesly Frank. Originally, this name did not contain an "s" but Harve added it when he moved to Georgia.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
WILBURN GAULT ELLIS
Dear Sir
I will answer all the questions to the best of my knowledge and ability first. I did not render any military or naval service prior to February of 1861 and second, I can not furnish any copy of any Church record of my birth. I do not think there was any as we wer not Church goers. Neither can I furnish any copy or family record showing date of birth for this reason: First my father's family was a Union family or what was cald Lincolnites at the out break of the Rebellion and my brothers and myself had our choice to goin the C.S.A. Army or to prison or wors. Of the three alternates, we chose the first, but our brother and myself taken the first chance and went to the old Flag. He to the Army of the Potomack, me to the Army of the Cumberland and the other brothers after the war to different parts of the Union. and if any of them are living, I do not know. My father's home was near the line of Tennessee and Georgia. A stomping ground for robers and theives. under the guise of solders. So all records, relics, pictures and papers of value or not were destroyed and after the war closed, I went home for a short visit to my parents and found it to be unsafe for one who had rendered any military service to the U.S. Government. So I drifted west where I have been ever since. I was born and raised in Murray County, Georgia. May 19, 1845 and lived with my Father until 1863 countinouly at the place of my birth in said Murray County, Georgia. My Father was Nathan Ellis, Mother Mary C. Ellis, Brother John M. Ellis, James H. Ellis, Nathan R. Ellis, Lassan W.Ellis, Leavy M. Ellis, Howard A. Ellis. sisters Mary J. Ellis Martha A Ellis. All was living in Murray County, Georgia in 1850 to 1860.
Very Respectfully
Wilburn G. Ellis
221 German Ave.
Salt Lake, Utah
Subscribed and Sworn before me this 2nd day of Aug. 1915
W. A. McDowd
notary public
He joined Co. H, 36th Ga. Cummings Brigade of the C.S.A. and the first chance he got, he deserted and joined the 10th Calvary, Company L Tennessee of the Union.
Since his family were sympathetic to the Union, it is a wonder that he didn't join them in the first place. At one point in time, he lost a leg and replaced it with wooden. I don't know if this was in the war or after. Haven't found that story yet, but I will keep diggin'
LAWSON WHITE ELLIS IN THE CIVIL WAR
I have just run across a distant ancestor of mine that receives my admiration. Lawson White Ellis. He was the brother of my second great grandfather, John Milton Ellis.That would make him the uncle of my great grandmother, Julia He was born on August 10, 1843 in Newport, Tennessee and died on March 30, 1922 in Eton, Georgia. But what caught my attention is his service record in the Civil War. He joined on March 1, 1862 at the age of 18 in Murray County enlisting in Company C, 11th Regiment, GA Volunteer Infantry. On August 30, 1862, he was wounded in the Second Battle of Manasseh's, VA. The wound was so severe that it necessitated amputation. Yet he continued to serve the Cause and continued the fight and was captured at Gettysburg, PA on July 2, 1863. Later he was paroled at De Camp General Hospital, on David's Island, NY. I am sure other men were just as brave. Some people may call it stubbornness. But to me it tells a story of the men who served from Georgia among the many Rebels from the South. Invading our territory was just something you don't do. I don't dwell on the past of this great conflict but this is something that I look to be outstanding in the line of duty. I am sure there were many from the North who were like this and that is probably why the war lasted so long.
Lawson raised 2 families. His first wife died in 1905 and he married again and had more children. Yet through all this, he still had a farm to provide for his family. And still did all this with just one arm. And we complain today if we have to do a job with 2.
I just happened to find his death certificate at Georgia's Virtual Vault to give me proof of the day of his death and where he is buried. He lived to be 78 years old.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
FRANCIS MARION KILGORE Sr.
As long as I have been tracing my family, I have run across many names of importance given to different family members. Such as George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Abraham Lincoln, Grover Cleveland, Benjamin Harrison, and James Monroe. But the most memorable is one such person in my Kilgore line known as Francis Marion. He was born on May 18, 1838 in Putnam County but he had lived in Murray County his entire life. He was born to Abner C Kilgore and Martha Scott and he is the brother of my second great grandfather, Alfred J. Kilgore.
He married Miss Susan Aline Carter in 1861 and started to raise a family when the War between the States broke out. Being the good Southerner that he was, he joined the Confederacy. Company A, Georgia 39th Infantry Regiment on March 10, 1862 as a private. Was appointed a Corporal on the Roll for April 30, 1864. He surrendered at Appomattox on April 9, 1865. But pension records states that he surrendered at Kingston, GA May 12, 1865.
But the most interesting thing of his life that I found was an unusual nickname he obtained while returning to Georgia sometime during the war. The legend says that he had to swim across a river to escape Union soldiers, As he had tired very quickly, he resigned himself to drowning only to find himself on a sandbar in about 2 feet of water. He was able to rest and wade out of the river. He was so elated that he did not drown, that he made quite a bit of noise coming through the woods. His companions stated that they thought it might be a panther or maybe a tiger therefore, "Tiger." The nickname stuck until the day he died.
One storyteller said that he never knew of any tigers being in this area but I can witness to the effect of panthers being in Georgia and their running through the woods is quite a scary experience. I am sure that there is no difference between the sound of running tigers or panthers or bobcats. Besides, after the boys had been fighting for months, anything in the woods would be reason to be scared. No matter how brave our men appear to be, I am pretty sure that some things would scare them.
Francis Marion Kilgore died in 1911 and both him and his wife are buried in Spring Place Cemetery, Murray County, Georgia.
He married Miss Susan Aline Carter in 1861 and started to raise a family when the War between the States broke out. Being the good Southerner that he was, he joined the Confederacy. Company A, Georgia 39th Infantry Regiment on March 10, 1862 as a private. Was appointed a Corporal on the Roll for April 30, 1864. He surrendered at Appomattox on April 9, 1865. But pension records states that he surrendered at Kingston, GA May 12, 1865.
But the most interesting thing of his life that I found was an unusual nickname he obtained while returning to Georgia sometime during the war. The legend says that he had to swim across a river to escape Union soldiers, As he had tired very quickly, he resigned himself to drowning only to find himself on a sandbar in about 2 feet of water. He was able to rest and wade out of the river. He was so elated that he did not drown, that he made quite a bit of noise coming through the woods. His companions stated that they thought it might be a panther or maybe a tiger therefore, "Tiger." The nickname stuck until the day he died.
One storyteller said that he never knew of any tigers being in this area but I can witness to the effect of panthers being in Georgia and their running through the woods is quite a scary experience. I am sure that there is no difference between the sound of running tigers or panthers or bobcats. Besides, after the boys had been fighting for months, anything in the woods would be reason to be scared. No matter how brave our men appear to be, I am pretty sure that some things would scare them.
Francis Marion Kilgore died in 1911 and both him and his wife are buried in Spring Place Cemetery, Murray County, Georgia.
Friday, August 26, 2011
POEM "NO CHARGE"
As I sat reading my Bible this morning, a thought came to my mind of a poem I had written about 20 years ago. Even though I was a born again Christian, since I was 15 years old, I hadn't been growing in the Lord. I was going to church and even singing with a quartet. We were doing a radio broadcast every Sunday at 1:00 with prayer requests for every need. Yet I was at a stand still in growing in the word. I wasn't reading my bible everyday. I used every excuse in the world about reading. Not enough time, I had to work, I was taking care of grandchildren, even my house burnt. All of these things were of the devil trying to draw me away from God. And then my supervisor at work came at me and told me that I could not keep my Bible at work, I had to take it home. I refused this, I told him that on my break time, I could read anything. Then I told him if I had to take my Bible home, he had better get rid of all his fishing magazines. It is a wonder that he didn't fire me on the spot. Yet I kept my job and one day as I sat reading on my lunch break, these words came to me.
"NO CHARGE"
Long ago on a hill called Calvary
three men were nailed to a tree.
Now two of these men were guilty of sin,
but the other was pure as could be.
Oh why did He go through that painful death
for a sinner as vile as me?
He was God's dearest lamb, yet He shed His blood,
so that you and I could go free.
As the blood flowed down the hill that day,
He prayed, Oh Father forgive.
I can never repay all the love that He had
when He died just so I could live.
If I stumble and fall on the paths of life
His strong hands pick me up again.
For the Son of God showed mercy on me
and now He's my dearest friend.
So what do I owe for your crown of thorns
and the mocking of You every day?
What do I owe for Your nail-scared hands
that carry me all the way?
What do I owe for Your precious blood
that was shed on that cruel tree?
From His home in the sky, my Jesus replies
"NO CHARGE, no charge for thee."
I knew that God gave me these words for a reason, I just didn't know when to use them. I found an inspirational magazine that published some poems for free so I sent it to them and it was read by a few people in the south. Yet I didn't get the response that I thought it deserved. So I quit writing for a while. Then one day a cousin of mine told me that I needed to write down all the family stories that I remembered so others could read them. I found out that you can write a blog on the Internet so I begin to put some legs on all my thoughts and words. I recently got an e-mail form a distant cousin who enjoyed all my stories. It lifted me in my spirits and the Lord let me know quickly. You do not charge for the things I give you. They are free. So many people want to put a monetary value on anything they do. God's love is free. And so is mine. Therefore I will continue to write for the pleasure it gives me and hope somewhere along the way that you get a blessing. And remember, it is from God, not me. He just gives me the words and I write them down.
"NO CHARGE"
Long ago on a hill called Calvary
three men were nailed to a tree.
Now two of these men were guilty of sin,
but the other was pure as could be.
Oh why did He go through that painful death
for a sinner as vile as me?
He was God's dearest lamb, yet He shed His blood,
so that you and I could go free.
As the blood flowed down the hill that day,
He prayed, Oh Father forgive.
I can never repay all the love that He had
when He died just so I could live.
If I stumble and fall on the paths of life
His strong hands pick me up again.
For the Son of God showed mercy on me
and now He's my dearest friend.
So what do I owe for your crown of thorns
and the mocking of You every day?
What do I owe for Your nail-scared hands
that carry me all the way?
What do I owe for Your precious blood
that was shed on that cruel tree?
From His home in the sky, my Jesus replies
"NO CHARGE, no charge for thee."
I knew that God gave me these words for a reason, I just didn't know when to use them. I found an inspirational magazine that published some poems for free so I sent it to them and it was read by a few people in the south. Yet I didn't get the response that I thought it deserved. So I quit writing for a while. Then one day a cousin of mine told me that I needed to write down all the family stories that I remembered so others could read them. I found out that you can write a blog on the Internet so I begin to put some legs on all my thoughts and words. I recently got an e-mail form a distant cousin who enjoyed all my stories. It lifted me in my spirits and the Lord let me know quickly. You do not charge for the things I give you. They are free. So many people want to put a monetary value on anything they do. God's love is free. And so is mine. Therefore I will continue to write for the pleasure it gives me and hope somewhere along the way that you get a blessing. And remember, it is from God, not me. He just gives me the words and I write them down.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
MY PAINTED ROCK
As I read my devotional this morning pertaining to a verse from Joshua, it brought to mind a story I had read in Guideposts. It told about a man who painted rocks with scriptures on them and sold them in a gift shop. A few years ago, I was into painting. Shirts, plates, cups, sticks and rocks, I painted anything that came to my mind. After reading the article, I decided that I would paint a rock with a verse of scripture. So here is what happened.
I preceded to travel to a creek in Sugar Valley where I knew that I could get some rocks for this purpose. I had been to this creek many times, as it was on the property of my friend, Clarence Ghorley. We used it often for baptizing. You just had to keep an eye out for snakes. I should know this as it is called Snake Creek Gap. Many rattlers have been killed at this location. I think one year, Clarence said that he had killed about 23 of different sizes.
Well it took a while to find the right one while I kept an eye out for snakes. I am deathly afraid of these particular varmints. We killed one in my home once but that is another story for me to tell. There were plenty of big rocks but not flat rocks in just the right shape that I wanted it to be.. After finding my rock, I came home and washed the rock to remove all the mud and debree. I waited until the next day for the painting because I wanted to get gold paint for this rock. I have always thought of gold as being a royal color. Then I decided to put two coats on the rock in case of scratches and each coat had to be thoroughly dry. When I got to the painting of the scripture, it didn't turn out like I wanted it to, so what I got was a mish-mash of printing big and little letters. Then I had a nudge from the Lord. "Why are you trying to made it perfect?" What an eye opener. Nothing is perfect in this world except GOD. So my messed up rock is on the front porch by the door with these words. "As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord." Joshua 24:15
I want all people who come to my door to know that we are Christians. I hope we show it in word as well as deed and with a little humor to boot.
I preceded to travel to a creek in Sugar Valley where I knew that I could get some rocks for this purpose. I had been to this creek many times, as it was on the property of my friend, Clarence Ghorley. We used it often for baptizing. You just had to keep an eye out for snakes. I should know this as it is called Snake Creek Gap. Many rattlers have been killed at this location. I think one year, Clarence said that he had killed about 23 of different sizes.
Well it took a while to find the right one while I kept an eye out for snakes. I am deathly afraid of these particular varmints. We killed one in my home once but that is another story for me to tell. There were plenty of big rocks but not flat rocks in just the right shape that I wanted it to be.. After finding my rock, I came home and washed the rock to remove all the mud and debree. I waited until the next day for the painting because I wanted to get gold paint for this rock. I have always thought of gold as being a royal color. Then I decided to put two coats on the rock in case of scratches and each coat had to be thoroughly dry. When I got to the painting of the scripture, it didn't turn out like I wanted it to, so what I got was a mish-mash of printing big and little letters. Then I had a nudge from the Lord. "Why are you trying to made it perfect?" What an eye opener. Nothing is perfect in this world except GOD. So my messed up rock is on the front porch by the door with these words. "As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord." Joshua 24:15
I want all people who come to my door to know that we are Christians. I hope we show it in word as well as deed and with a little humor to boot.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
"PEGGY'S HOUSE"
As I was reading Facebook the other day. I came across a Blog that interested me about an establishment in Rome in my youth. "Peggy's." It brought to mind a episode of when I was about 15 years old. My mom had a beauty shop in North Rome and had quite a bit of clientele. One particular person was a young woman who came every week to have her hair done for the week-end. Once a month, she would have a touch-up of her roots. Her hair was a gorgeous color of platinum blond. Over time, her name has slipped my mind, but her order of lunch still remains with me as I was the one to walk to the Drug Store soda shop to bring it back. Always the same, grilled cheese sandwich with dill pickle slices, potato chips and a fountain coke with extra ice. She would give me a $10 bill and when I returned, she would let me keep the change. I had spending money all summer. Over a few weeks, I learned that she was an employee of "Peggy's." She had a boyfriend who used her for money as he didn't work. I won't reveal his name as I attended school with his brother and sister. He told me this when he found out that I went to East Rome. Sometimes he would bring her to the shop but mostly she rode in a cab. Then he would come by to get money. He would be going to a bootlegger in East Rome to get white whiskey. He would bring her back a drink and keep the change. Sometimes, he would buy two bottles, bring her one and keep the other. This was a lot for a 15-year-old to comprehend. I couldn't even tell anyone about this or my mom would lose her patronage. And her tips were great. Sometimes, she would even have her nails done. My mom had learned this at Beauty School as well as facials. It was an all round shop.
Now I knew where "Peggy's" was located as just about every other person in Rome. Across the street from the fairgrounds. Most anytime that I would drive by, your could see the location. I would take East First Street up to 5 points and turn across what is now MLK Blvd to get to Kingston Hwy going to my aunt's house. In the day time, the parking lot would be empty but at night, it was full. Sometimes I would even recognize a few cars. That would be my secret. The only way to keep a secret, is if I don't tell. Two people will not keep a secret. At the end of the summer, my mom was killed in an automobile accident and I went to live with my dad. I never saw her again but I remember that flowers were sent to the funeral and I recognized the name's. I only hope that a thank you card was sent to them in their remembrance of my mom. Later in my life, I wondered what would make a young girl like her turn to that old profession. So poor to need the money, or abused as a child, or maybe she was homeless. We don't know what her situation was and why she was in that location. "Walk a mile in my shoes." Except for a loving family, I could have been homeless. Always be open to people and not judge them until you know all the circumstances and situations. There is an old saying, "There but for the Grace of GOD go I." So often we are quick to judge. My dad always said to clean off your own back porch before you start to clean someone else's.
The following story is from the blog called "Peggy's." The initials at the end of the story are MWH. All credit goes the that person for all her work in searching out this story.
http://peggyshouse.blogspot.com/
I am attempting to write a book about a curious yet elusive woman in a small north Georgia town who managed to run a successful up-scale house of prostitution for over thirty years. Peggy Stone Sneed was an uneducated country girl from an area called the 'Prospect Community' near Centre, Alabama. She came to Rome, Georgia as a young woman to work in the Celanese Mill by day, and began moonlighting in a local 'house' by night. It was said that she was exceptionally beautiful and many of the men at the plant tried to get close to her with no success whatsoever. It wasn't until one of them discovered her at her night job that it was understood why, so those who's hopes had been dashed time and again, found that there was another way to get to know her.
Over time, she supposedly earned enough money to start her own business and she left the plant to open up her own house. It was said that her business sense was remarkable. She ran a tight ship and her girls had frequent medical attention and were 'guaranteed safe'. On one rare occasion when a client did come down with an embarrassing 'condition', Peggy made good on her word by covering all of his medical costs.
Local business, such as dress store owners, grocers, and pharmacists catered to the cash paying Madam by bringing goods to her house for purchase. She kept a side business during prohibition of selling beer and Cuban rum - all without consequences. It was said that hers was a clearing house for girls from Cuba and the west coast so her house was constantly full of fresh faces. She also had a suspicious amount of property in the Virgin Islands as well as in Floyd County.
Most remarkable of all is that Peggy's was well known nationally and internationally and received no opposition from the local Police, local businesses or even the local women. Everyone looked the other way and accepted the house as a part of the community - peacefully. This is a phenomenon that has not occurred before or since. My question is why? What made Peggy different? From her signature pink clothing and hair to her signature pink French poodle, she stood out and hasn't been forgotten these long years.
I have been collecting all sorts of amusing stories about this woman and her house and I am posting here to collect more. Everything you read here is pure here say, I admit it! I have a great start but there are just as many new questions being raised as there are answers. If you have any sort of anecdote about her or the house, please post them. I even take second and third hand stories...and your name won't be used. From the blog, Peggy's in North Rome.
http://peggyshouse.blogspot.com/
Now I knew where "Peggy's" was located as just about every other person in Rome. Across the street from the fairgrounds. Most anytime that I would drive by, your could see the location. I would take East First Street up to 5 points and turn across what is now MLK Blvd to get to Kingston Hwy going to my aunt's house. In the day time, the parking lot would be empty but at night, it was full. Sometimes I would even recognize a few cars. That would be my secret. The only way to keep a secret, is if I don't tell. Two people will not keep a secret. At the end of the summer, my mom was killed in an automobile accident and I went to live with my dad. I never saw her again but I remember that flowers were sent to the funeral and I recognized the name's. I only hope that a thank you card was sent to them in their remembrance of my mom. Later in my life, I wondered what would make a young girl like her turn to that old profession. So poor to need the money, or abused as a child, or maybe she was homeless. We don't know what her situation was and why she was in that location. "Walk a mile in my shoes." Except for a loving family, I could have been homeless. Always be open to people and not judge them until you know all the circumstances and situations. There is an old saying, "There but for the Grace of GOD go I." So often we are quick to judge. My dad always said to clean off your own back porch before you start to clean someone else's.
The following story is from the blog called "Peggy's." The initials at the end of the story are MWH. All credit goes the that person for all her work in searching out this story.
http://peggyshouse.blogspot.com/
I am attempting to write a book about a curious yet elusive woman in a small north Georgia town who managed to run a successful up-scale house of prostitution for over thirty years. Peggy Stone Sneed was an uneducated country girl from an area called the 'Prospect Community' near Centre, Alabama. She came to Rome, Georgia as a young woman to work in the Celanese Mill by day, and began moonlighting in a local 'house' by night. It was said that she was exceptionally beautiful and many of the men at the plant tried to get close to her with no success whatsoever. It wasn't until one of them discovered her at her night job that it was understood why, so those who's hopes had been dashed time and again, found that there was another way to get to know her.
Over time, she supposedly earned enough money to start her own business and she left the plant to open up her own house. It was said that her business sense was remarkable. She ran a tight ship and her girls had frequent medical attention and were 'guaranteed safe'. On one rare occasion when a client did come down with an embarrassing 'condition', Peggy made good on her word by covering all of his medical costs.
Local business, such as dress store owners, grocers, and pharmacists catered to the cash paying Madam by bringing goods to her house for purchase. She kept a side business during prohibition of selling beer and Cuban rum - all without consequences. It was said that hers was a clearing house for girls from Cuba and the west coast so her house was constantly full of fresh faces. She also had a suspicious amount of property in the Virgin Islands as well as in Floyd County.
Most remarkable of all is that Peggy's was well known nationally and internationally and received no opposition from the local Police, local businesses or even the local women. Everyone looked the other way and accepted the house as a part of the community - peacefully. This is a phenomenon that has not occurred before or since. My question is why? What made Peggy different? From her signature pink clothing and hair to her signature pink French poodle, she stood out and hasn't been forgotten these long years.
I have been collecting all sorts of amusing stories about this woman and her house and I am posting here to collect more. Everything you read here is pure here say, I admit it! I have a great start but there are just as many new questions being raised as there are answers. If you have any sort of anecdote about her or the house, please post them. I even take second and third hand stories...and your name won't be used. From the blog, Peggy's in North Rome.
http://peggyshouse.blogspot.com/
DEATH IN THE COMMUNITY-PAULA LOUISE KELLY
KJV-Philippians 2:3 Let nothing be done through strife or vainglory; but in lowliness of mind. let each esteem others better than themselves. My daily devotional reads a little different-Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves.
On July 31, 2011-Paula Louise Kelly left this earth. Just a simple act of one driver in such a big hurry that he could not wait to go further down the road. This driver passed in an area that should not be used for passing on a 2-lane highway.Therefore, 2 people died. She was just 1/2 mile from home. This lady was my neighbor; a mother, grandmother, daughter, and wife. An aunt, cousin, and friend yet her life was cut short. 46 years old but she is no longer with us. Subsequently, a child died from the injuries. Why do we always think that we are better than others and do our own thing or be first all the time. We haven't earned any rights. We are only children of GOD by His Grace. By believing on Him and be washed in the Blood of the Lamb. Are we teaching our children this measure of faith? Is it our environment that causes us to behave this way? It might be what we see others do and copy their actions. Some call it "Road Rage." Others call it selfishness or vindictiveness. Yet in truth, we are spoiled children. We all want to do our own thing and 2 people are dead. I don't want to be this type of person. I want to have a little more patience and help someone along the way.
Father in Heaven, Please help me to over come my faults and failures. Let me be a better example for my children and grandchildren, to be humble and a servant for you. Amen.
The following is an obituary for Paula Louise Kelly:
Paula Whitener Kelly, 46, of Trimble Hollow Rd., Adairsville, Georgia, died July 31, 2011.
Paula was born June 16, 1965 in Bartow County, was employed at David's Auto Sales in Rome and was a member of Shiloh Baptist Church in Acworth.
She was preceded in death by her grandparents, Charlie and Margene Edwards and Albert and Zona Whitener.
Surviving are her children, Billy and Brandy Ford of Cohutta, Dana and Jorge Sanchez of Cartersville, Tiffany and Jason Turner of Calhoun, nine grandchildren, parents, Nancy and Jerry Thacker of Kingston, Paul and Annette Whitener of Adairsville, stepmother, Shelty Whitener of Cartersville, sister and brother in law, Donna and John McRobie of Tunnel Hill, brothers and sisters in law, Rev. Donnie and Carol Whitener and Morris and Elsa Whitener and Johnny Wilson, all of Cartersville and several nieces and nephews.
Funeral services will be held Thursday, August 4, 2011 at 11:00 A.M. in the chapel of Owen Funeral Home with Rev. Jerry Boston and Rev. Donnie Whitener.
Burial will follow in Providence Cemetery.
The family will receive friends at the funeral home Wednesday evening from 4:00-9:00 p.m.
Pallbearers will be Michael Overton, Billy Ford, III, Morris Whitener, Lamar and Victor Crowe, Charles and Mark Gibson, Chris Borders and Rev. Louie G. Casey.
Owen Funeral Home, 12 Collins Drive, Cartersville, Georgia is in charge of the arrangements.
On July 31, 2011-Paula Louise Kelly left this earth. Just a simple act of one driver in such a big hurry that he could not wait to go further down the road. This driver passed in an area that should not be used for passing on a 2-lane highway.Therefore, 2 people died. She was just 1/2 mile from home. This lady was my neighbor; a mother, grandmother, daughter, and wife. An aunt, cousin, and friend yet her life was cut short. 46 years old but she is no longer with us. Subsequently, a child died from the injuries. Why do we always think that we are better than others and do our own thing or be first all the time. We haven't earned any rights. We are only children of GOD by His Grace. By believing on Him and be washed in the Blood of the Lamb. Are we teaching our children this measure of faith? Is it our environment that causes us to behave this way? It might be what we see others do and copy their actions. Some call it "Road Rage." Others call it selfishness or vindictiveness. Yet in truth, we are spoiled children. We all want to do our own thing and 2 people are dead. I don't want to be this type of person. I want to have a little more patience and help someone along the way.
Father in Heaven, Please help me to over come my faults and failures. Let me be a better example for my children and grandchildren, to be humble and a servant for you. Amen.
The following is an obituary for Paula Louise Kelly:
Paula Whitener Kelly, 46, of Trimble Hollow Rd., Adairsville, Georgia, died July 31, 2011.
Paula was born June 16, 1965 in Bartow County, was employed at David's Auto Sales in Rome and was a member of Shiloh Baptist Church in Acworth.
She was preceded in death by her grandparents, Charlie and Margene Edwards and Albert and Zona Whitener.
Surviving are her children, Billy and Brandy Ford of Cohutta, Dana and Jorge Sanchez of Cartersville, Tiffany and Jason Turner of Calhoun, nine grandchildren, parents, Nancy and Jerry Thacker of Kingston, Paul and Annette Whitener of Adairsville, stepmother, Shelty Whitener of Cartersville, sister and brother in law, Donna and John McRobie of Tunnel Hill, brothers and sisters in law, Rev. Donnie and Carol Whitener and Morris and Elsa Whitener and Johnny Wilson, all of Cartersville and several nieces and nephews.
Funeral services will be held Thursday, August 4, 2011 at 11:00 A.M. in the chapel of Owen Funeral Home with Rev. Jerry Boston and Rev. Donnie Whitener.
Burial will follow in Providence Cemetery.
The family will receive friends at the funeral home Wednesday evening from 4:00-9:00 p.m.
Pallbearers will be Michael Overton, Billy Ford, III, Morris Whitener, Lamar and Victor Crowe, Charles and Mark Gibson, Chris Borders and Rev. Louie G. Casey.
Owen Funeral Home, 12 Collins Drive, Cartersville, Georgia is in charge of the arrangements.
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