A Confederate Love Letter

Since Valentine's Day is quickly approaching, I thought I'd share a love letter with you.

During the Civil War, soldiers had a pocket on their uniform called the "heart pocket" in which they kept letters and pictures from home. Isn't that incredibly romantic? The historical society in Tallassee recently produced a production by a local author called "Letters from the Heart Pocket" which featured letters, music and period costumes.

I don't have the original, but I have a copy of a letter that was sent from my 3rd greatgrandfather, Franklin Carter Hilyer (about 1821-1864) to his wife, Edith Colon Pettus Hilyer (1828-1879), while he was serving as a Confederate soldier.

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Here's the first page. It reads - 

1864

August the 5

Georgia Atlanta

Dear wife and children, I take my pen in hand to inform you that I am well at the time. I hope this letter may reach you and find you all well. I was out on picket and have just got in and had a right smart fight. There is men killed every day at the biggest works from the picket lines by the stray balls. They fight with the cannon every day. I will tell you we are getting almost nothing to eat. Collen I have not heard from you in a month. I want to hear from you mighty bad. I long to see you all so now more at _______ on only I remain yours on ____________  _____________.

F.C. Hilyer to E.C. Hilyer

The back page really got to me - as a descendant and genealogist, but especially as a mother.

A few words to my children. Children big and little. I long you to remember me and obey your mother.

Mariah

Steven

James

Permelia

Franklin

Alvin

Ambros

Thomas Griffith

F.C. Hilyer to his beloved children

I (want?) the boys to wash that biggest _________ star in the barn.

Collen you may kiss the baby for me.

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Here's what I found out about picket duty.

Picket - An advance outpost or guard for a large force was called a picket. Ordered to form a scattered line far in advance of the main army's encampment, but within supporting distance, a picket guard was made up of a lieutenant, 2 sergeants, 4 corporals, and 40 privates from each regiment. Picket duty constituted the most hazardous work of infantrymen in the field. Being the first to feel any major enemy movement, they were also the first liable to be killed, wounded, or captured. And the most likely targets of snipers. Picket duty, by regulation, was rotated regularly in a regiment. (http://www.civilwarhome.com/terms.html)

The term "works" refers to fortifications.

The fact that he names not only his wife, but his children individually is GENEALOGY GOLD!!!

More on Franklin Carter Hilyer

I'm sure he had very little schooling because his spelling and grammar were less than perfect, and I struggled with translating some of it. The original contains a lot of phonetic spelling. But the gist is clear - war is hell and he missed his family.

The baby he mentions on the second page was Thomas Griffith Hilyer. He was born on April 30, 1864. Frank probably never even saw him.

Frank was admitted to the St. Mary's Hospital in LaGrange, Georgia, on July 3, 1864. He was probably treated for an intestinal illness and not an injury because he was returned to duty on July 12th. (For every one soldier killed in battle, an average of two died of disease.)

I know O'Neal's 26th of Alabama was involved in the Battle of Atlanta on August 31, 1964. Since his letter was written on August 5, I assume he is still alive for this battle. However, I believe this is where he was killed. He never makes it home. I believe he is buried in an unmarked grave in or around Atlanta.

Here are the few records I do have on him.

He is listed (by age) with his father, James Hillyer/Hilliard, in the 1830 census in Meriwether, GA.

He is listed (by age) with his father in the 1840 census in Stewart, GA.

He marries Edith Colon Pettus in Coosa County in 1843.

He is listed as a farmer in the 1850 census for Hatchett Creek, Coosa Co., AL.

He is listed as a farmer in the 1860 census in Coosa Co. His real estate is valued at $1500 and his personal property is valued at $5000.

I also believe that I have found him on the 1860 slave census. He is listed as F. Hillier (born around 1825) and owns three slaves: a 35 year old woman and her two children - a 12 year old female and a 2 year old male.

In the Alabama census of 1866, Eady is listed as head of household, so I know he died sometime in the war.

So far, this is all I have on Frank. As I said, he was my 3rd greatgrandfather. I have names going back another six generations, but I don't have solid proof on them yet.

I have decided to focus my energy this year on proving my Hilyer line as far back as possible. I also intend to work on my Gafford line. These are the two main arteries of my genealogy. For years, I have gone where ever the genealogy winds took me, but I want to nail these down. Wish me luck!

I'm so glad you stopped by my neck of the woods!

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Greatgrandmothers and Elephants and Genealogy...Oh My!

This special lady is Jewell Ruth Dowling Copeland. She was my greatgrandmother, and perhaps, the most fascinating lady I've ever known. She died in March of 1996 at 99 years of age. This beautiful lady is who my daughter, Jewell, is named for.

She lived in Dasher, Georgia, and I spent a lot of time with her growing up. I would sit for hours looking at old photographs and listening to stories from long ago. She was born in the 1800's after all! She taught me to bait a hook and how to blanch peas. We also visited every cemetery in the tri-county area. She was very proud of her family's history, and she's one of the reasons why I love genealogy today. Maybe because she told me so many stories about the past. Maybe because this lady was - well, she was old. She was the past but she was very much a part of my growing up.

There are so many stories I could tell, but today, I want to share one that didn't really have anything to do with her. Well, not exactly. But it's one I remember her telling me once (or twice, or twenty times) as we drove to a family reunion, not far from her home. She was born and raised in a community in Lowndes County called "Cherry Creek". As we drove toward the camp where the reunion was to be held one summer, she mentioned something about "the elephant that got loose and ran amuck in Cherry Creek". Well, of course that captured my teen-aged imagination! 

She told me what she remembered. I only wish I remembered more of what she said. I remember the general story - circus elephant escaped, survived on the lam for a while before being shot - but I can't remember if she ever saw the elephant herself. I don't think she did. I think she just remembered it happening. 

Anyway - I filed that rather bizarre memory away until one day, while doing some genealogy research, I came upon a website by the Ray City Historical Society in Georgia. Oh, if only every historical/genealogy society was as dedicated as this one! It's a treasure trove of info, and I've found a good bit of helpful data on it from time to time.

But one day, as I quickly scrolled through, I was stopped in my tracks by this picture...

Isn't that amazing? 1902 and not in South Africa...we're talking South GEORGIA, people!

If you're interested, you can read the entire story here on the Ray City Historical Blog. Beside just the bizarrity (is that a word?) of the event, there are some really sad details like the trainer apparently had a history with the elephant...and alcohol...and the two don't mix. Beside that, the reporting is fascinating. True to the day, stories could go on for pages, with flowery detail and little verification of fact. Sensational might be a good description. But since newspapers were basically the only way for folks to get news, they went all out in reporting. 

I was fascinated when I heard her mention this story, but at the time (probably the early 1980's), it would have been really hard to research this event. (Google didn't exist yet, Jewell and Brack. Can you believe it?) But now thanks to technology and a growing interest in the past, I stumbled across this article and put two and two together. She was only five when this happened. I wish she could have read this story, because it would have put some meat on the bones of a story she remembered experiencing as a child.

I hope you'll take a few minutes to at least skim the story about poor Gypsy the Elephant, but the takeaway is this...I was a 13 year old child who idolized her greatgrandmother. Shoot - I was lucky to just have her, let alone spend so much time with her. I hung on every word she said and wanted to do every thing she did. She is still very much a part of me. I think of her regularly. 

I'm still working on uncovering details about the family that she loved so much. Technology is making it easier than it ever was, but I still hit brick walls regularly. A hundred years from now, people won't have nearly as many questions about their ancestors as we do today. Everything is online these days. Probably too much. 

But I hope that one day one of MY greatgranddaughters will follow me around hanging on MY every word. I don't have any stories yet that are nearly as exciting as an escaped elephant, but I'm working on it. I've still got a little time. Maybe I'll be somebody's favorite old lady one day! 

I'm so glad you stopped by my neck of the woods!

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Jessie Lenora (Jones) Rowe

I've told you before that I suffer from a lack of focus in all things...well, in all things.  I'm like a little kid; easily distracted by something new.  Or pretty.  Or the box it came in.  Anyway - things have been pretty busy around here lately and I haven't had a lot of time to work on my family tree. Actually - I haven't let myself work on it, because I know when I do, it's not going to end well. At least not for my family.  I get sidetracked and end up looking up from the computer two (or five) hours later and realize I need to check on supper.  And the kids.

So when I did find time recently to do a little research, I decided to mix it up a little.  I had spent a good bit of time lately working my patented (J.K.!) generational wave pattern.  I was getting a little bored with it, so I decided to just pick someone new and start working my way back.  Since I married a Jones, I thought it would be neat to work on the Jones line in my own family.  In an attempt to blog about 52 ancestors in 52 weeks, I thought I'd actually put my research into words.

So, today, I'd like to introduce you to my second greatgrandmother on my father's mother's side, Jessie Lenora (Jones) Rowe.  (D'ya get all that?)

Jessie Lenora Jones was born on 26 May 1868 in Alabama to William Jackson Jones and Nancy A. Wynn.  (I used to think she was a Wynn, then I thought she was a Summers, but now I'm back to Wynn.  I guess I kinda need to figure that out for sure.)  I'm not sure exactly where Jessie was born, but if I had to guess, it'd be Elmore County, since the 1870 census shows her living here.  In fact, just a very few miles from where I live. (Big genealogy smile.)

 

Jessie was the oldest child and had three siblings: William Rushing Jones (1872-1949), Mahlon Theophilus Jones (1873-1918) and Eben Charles Jones (1875-1920).

 

My first record of Jessie is in the (August 4th) 1870 U.S. federal census.  She is living with her parents, W.J. and Nancy.  He is listed as a farmer and Nancy is "keeping house".  They are living in Township 18, in Elmore County.  Tallassee is listed as their post office.

 

In the 1880 U.S. federal census, she is 12 years old and living in Kendalls in Montgomery County with her parents, William J. and Nancy A. and her brothers William (age 7), Mahlon (age 6) and Eben (age 4).  William is still listed as a farmer.

 

On 25 November 1888, Jessie marries James Henry Rowe in Elmore County.  The 1890 federal census was destroyed, so I'm not sure where they lived at first.

 

By 1900, they are living in Sandtuck in Elmore County.  They now have six children: William Henry (age 10), Viola Elender (age 9), Lovie Mae (my greatgrandmother, age 7), Ida Lee (age 4), James Grady (age 2) and Claude O. (age 1 month).  James is a farmer.

 

According to the 1910 census ten years later, they now have two more children: Altha Ola (mistakenly listed as a male named Alpha...Alpha male?  Really?) and Homer.  James's mother, Mattie (age 74) is listed as a widow and living with them in Precinct 5 in Elmore County.

 

The 1920 census is the last record I have for Jessie.  She is living in Precinct 8 (Wetumpka?) in Elmore County.  She is 52 years old, but still has a full house.  Her husband, James, is now hauling logs for a living.  They have four children still at home (Ida Lee, Claude, Altha and Homer) and their oldest son, William Henry has moved back in along with his wife, Mattie, and their three children; Wilbur, Gertrude and Verna.  William Henry is also driving a log truck.

 

Jessie died 3 January 1926 in Elmore County.  She is buried in the Pleasant Hill Cemetery in Eclectic, Elmore County, Alabama.  He husband, James, will live another 25 years before being buried next to his wife.

 

 

I wish I had a picture of Jessie.  I wish I knew more about her.  My grandmother was 14 when Jessie died, but I don't have any personal recollection of MawMaw ever talking about her with me.  She seems to have lived an ordinary life.  Nothing special.  But I like to imagine what life was like for her, especially since I live so close to where she lived.  Maybe one day, I'll learn more.  

 

Interestingly enough, I know more about her father and grandfather than I do about her, but that's not all that uncommon with women, especially of this era.  Regardless, she lived, and as I result, I do too!  She was pretty important after all!

 

PS - After a little more research last night, I think her mother, Nancy, may have actually been a Simmons.  Ahhhh!  I guess you know what I'm doing this weekend... 

  

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I'm so glad you stopped by my neck of the woods!

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I HEART...An unexpected super hero!

 

Everybody loves Wednesday, right?

The week's half over.  The weekend is on the way.

What's not to love?

Each Wednesday, I want to share something with you

that I absolutely love and can't live without! 

 

For those who love genealogy, few things are more frustrating than a lack of focus.  Rabbit trails are everywhere.  It's easy to get lost chasing one, but much harder to find your way back to the main road.  I struggle with my research strategy.  Some days, I determine to stay on path and follow a surname: child to father to child to father, etc.  Other times, I decide to research in what I call a "generational wave pattern", where I focus on my four sets of grandparents or eight sets of great-grandparents or 16 sets of great-great-grandparents.  Which can be really overwhelming.  Frustrated, I will go back to direct lines.  Which is where I was yesterday, when I made a neat historical discovery.  My 8th ggf saved the colony of Connecticut!  Single-handedly!  Well, sort of.  Here's the story...

Joseph Wadsworth was born March 17, 1650, in Hartford, Connecticut.  (I know, a Yankee.  But we had to start somewhere, right?  Stay with me...)  He was the son of William Wadsworth (1594-1675) and Elizabeth Stone (1621-1682). 

In 1662, King Charles II of England granted a charter to those who lived in the Connecticut Colony.  It basically assured the citizens the right to self government, including a governor, deputy governor, twelve assistants and other officials elected as needed by the colony "freeman".  They were to meet twice a year.  The charter also guaranteed the full rights and privileges of the British citizenry to all those born is said colony.  Full rights and self-government.  Sounds great, doesn't it?  It was.  Until a new king came into power.

James II, grandson of King James I (of KJV Bible fame), didn't think so.  He appointed Sir Edmond Andrus as governor of ALL of New England, and instructed him to pull Connecticut's charter.  Happy to oblige, Andrus marched into Hartford on October 31, 1687, with his plastic pumpkin-shaped basket on his arm, planning to snatch the charter from Connecticut as if he were taking candy from a baby, thus making him the first Trick or Treater in U.S. history.  OK - so I made that up.  Some of it.  He did arrive on October 31st, and he did mean business, but, boy, did he have another thing coming.

Everyone knew why Andrus was there, including Joseph Wadsworth, who was a captain in the train-band (local militia).  Andrus met with colony officials at Moses Butler's tavern.  It was night and the room was lit with candles.  Andrus demanded the charter amidst pleas from officials, including Governor Treat.  At some point in the argument and confusion, the candles were extinguished.  When they were relit, the charter, which had been placed on a table, was missing!  Joseph had grabbed the charter in the chaos and fled the building.  He went directly to the home of Samuel Wyllys, a colony magistrate, and hid the charter in the hollow of a large oak tree.

 

Some believe that the charter used that night was just a copy, because the colonists didn't dare lose the original to Andrus.  Regardless, Andrus asserted his power, even without the charter, but his government was overthrown a couple of years later in Boston.

The tree was believed to have been several hundred years old, and unfortunately, fell during a storm in 1856.  However, the wood was salvaged and used to make the desk used by Connecticut's governors, as well as chairs for the state's speaker of the house and senate president.

 

The charter oak even made it to the back of the Connecticut quarter in 1999.

 

 

In doing more research on this event, I came across a book called Wadsworth, or The Charter Oak by William Henry Gocher.  It was published in 1904 and is now in the public domain, so I was able to download it for free! 

 

(Side note here - since we have started homeschooling, I have become familiar with a number of American History texts that were written in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Far from being outdated, these books are fascinating.  Most are written in narrative style, and all of them are replete with wonderful stories of patriots.  They are written from the perspective that America was established with God in mind and by men and women who fiercely believed in the will and providence of the Almighty.  And the most exciting thing is, many of these books can be found online for free!)

Here is my ancestral line from Joseph Wadsworth.

Captain Joseph Wadsworth (1650-1729)

Jonathan Wadsworth (1687-1739)

Captain Samuel Wadsworth (1716-1799)

Hannah Wadsworth (1750-1801)

James W. Hilyer (1797-1870)

Franklin Carter Hilyer (1821-1864)

William Alvin Hilyer (1859-1937)

James Edmond Hilyer (1881-1961)

Lucien Hilyer (1909-1998)

Billy Dwight Hilyer (1944- )

Melissa LaKay Hilyer (1969- )

On it's own, this is a wonderful example of America's determination to self-govern.  The fact that my ancestor was involved is just gravy.  Yummy, historical, genealogical gravy.

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I'm so glad you stopped by my neck of the woods!

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There's a Great Day Coming!

I've been doing a lot of genealogical research this past week.  I have to begin with caution each time I start to climb my family tree because I sometimes forget to do other things.  Like laundry.  Or feeding my children.  Or sleeping.  (All over rated if you ask me.)  While doing some research recently, I found another "cousin" who lives in the Valdosta, Georgia, area who has a blog called "The Pendleton Genealogy Post".  She mentioned that she was taking part in a genealogy blog challenge called "52 ancestors in 52 weeks".  While I'm a little late to start the challenge this year, I think it's a great idea and should be a neat way to get a little focused research and documentation done.  (I'm sure you will find it hard to believe, but I often lack focus.  I know.  Shocking.)  I plan to try to "unofficially" tag along and share some of the neat things I've discovered about my relatives. 

Anyway, I don't have any Pendleton branches on my tree (at least not that I have found so far!), but we do both descend from some of the same Dashers.  I'll share with you later what I'm learning about these brave and determined men and women who came to America to escape religious persecution.  They were very much involved with the Restoration Movement in America, I am proud to say!  Interested much?  Well, you'll have to hang on.

What leads me to today's post is the Dasher cemetery in Lowndes County, Georgia, just outside of Valdosta.  My grandmother was born and raised there.  (In Dasher.  Not the cemetery!)  And that's how we get to today's post...

 

I was very close to my mother's mother, Mary Marie Copeland Gafford.  As I said, she was from Dasher.  She and I made a lot of trips together.  When I was young, I rode with her.  When I turned 15, I took over the driving.  (Grandmothers are sooo much more laid back than parents!)  A minister at a church in Statenville, Georgia, always got our names wrong and called us "Misty and Maria", so we took those for aliases.  Just in case! 

  

 

Here we are in 1999.  Still getting into trouble!  See that mischievous grin on her face?

I'm sure we were laughing about something as someone snapped this picture.

  

We made a trip to her home in Georgia just a few months before she died in 2002.  (I was a few months pregnant with Jewell who was due on her birthday, October 14.  She also knew that Jewell was being named after her mother, Jewell Ruth Dowling Copeland.  Unfortunately, she died about 3 weeks before Jewell was born.)  While we were there, we made one last pilgrimage together to the Dasher Cemetery.  I remember her telling me (again) the story of how as a child, she would sit in the old Dasher church building and look out the window at the graves while the preacher would talk about how "the dead in Christ will rise first".  As a child, she connected the Second Coming with the Dasher Cemetery!  She once told me she had reservations about being buried in Greenville, Alabama, even though my grandfather was already there waiting on her.  She just wanted to make sure she didn't miss the Lord's Return!

 

 

Here's a picture of what the Dasher church of Christ looked like right before it was torn down in the mid 1950's.  I'm not sure which window she would have been staring out of, but the cemetery was just outside.

 

This is her in 1928 when she was about four years old.

Probably about the time she was gazing out those church windows, daydreaming...

 

 

 

There is no date on this picture, but I think I remember her saying it was taken around her high school graduation, before she got married.  She graduated in May and then married in August 1941.  Isn't her dress beautiful? 

 

Here she is at my wedding in 2000.  So pretty in pink!

 

She was so much fun.  We loved being together from the time I was a little girl.  I remember coming home from Georgia with her once (a way we had both driven a million times).  We were laughing about something and missed our turn.  That tickled us and as we were laughing about that, we made a U-turn and went up a one way street!  That made us laugh even harder and we had to pull off the road and compose ourselves!  I don't even remember what we were laughing about in the first place, but it doesn't matter.  The memory is what matters.  She was my grandmother, but more importantly, she was my friend.  I really miss her!  But I know regardless of where she is buried, she'll be ready when the Lord comes back!

 

P.S.  I have all these images of me and her in my mind, however, I had trouble finding actual pictures of us together.  This is a lesson to me to make sure I pose for pictures with those who mean a lot to me!  As mothers, we are often the one on the back side of the lens, taking the pictures.  We want our kids to have pictures of us to show their grandkids, right?  Let's be sure to hand the camera to someone else next time and make sure we stand still next to the ones we love, long enough to not only capture the image in our minds, but on film.  Or disk.  You get the idea!

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A picture is worth...a thousand hours of internet research!

I have spent many, many hours over the last few years searching for my great-great-grandmother, Mollie Ella (Moore) Wall.  I mean, I know exactly where she is...buried right next to her son - my great-grandparents, James Alver and Lovie Mae (Rowe) Wall. 

But I wanted to know WHO she was.  I've learned quite a bit, and that is a story in and of itself.  But I had never been able to find anything about her prior to her marrying my great-great-grandfather, William.  She had to have parents, right?  So who were they?

I had a couple of pictures of her.  Well, I didn't, but other family members did.  In fact, my cousin, Tim, had a picture of her hanging on the wall of his guest bedroom that I determined should be rightfully mine.  After, all - I was the one spending all this time looking for her!  (Needless to say, he didn't agree!)  But nothing gave me any more information about where she came from or who her family was.     

Until one day, I got a message through ancestory.com from a lady out west in New Mexico who thought her great-grandmother, Joanna (Moore) Lambert, might be a sister to my great-great-grandmother, Mollie.  She had some pictures, which she attached and sent to me that indicated the connection, but what sealed the deal?  THIS picture...

On the back, it indicated that this was Mollie Wall(s) of Eclectic, Alabama, sister of "Joanner" Lambert.  First of all, I love this picture, because, well...look at it!  What's not to love?  A family is standing in front of their cabin.  They've drug out a small table and a lamp.  Why?  Who knows.  The son is in overalls, probably just having come in from working in the fields.  The mother is holding a Bible.  They are standing miles apart from one another.  The cabin is pretty Spartan, and the surrounding landscape is fairly barren.  Yet, they seem to be posing, proudly, for this picture, probably taken by a travelling photographer.  So, yes, it's a pretty cool picture.  But want to know why I REALLY loved it?  Because it is a copy of the same one hanging in Tim's home.  They one I had coveted!  They also shared with me other pictures of Mollie.

 

 

Picture of Mollie taken in Montgomery, Alabama, probably in the early 1920's.

 

 

Mollie (left) with her sister, Joanna, and her brother-in-law, C.B. Lambert.

Probably taken close to 1930 in Oklahoma.

 

I made friends with that distant cousin from way out west, whose name happens to be Claudia, and we began to correspond by both email and phone.  One day, while she was visiting one of her cousins in Oklahoma (where Mollie's sister, Joanner, had relocated), they called me and asked for my address.  It seems they decided that the pictures Mollie had sent to Joanna really needed to make their way back home.  These gracious ladies sent me a whole packet of pictures including the one above!  I was able to glean a lot of new information about Mollie from the material I received.  All because a stranger saw the family information I had shared online and thought it was the missing puzzle piece for their family story.

 

Here are some of Mollie's descendants at a Hilyer Family Get-Together last April at my parent's home in Tallassee, probably less than five miles from where the priceless picture of Mollie and her family was made.  (From left to right - my brother, Jon Hilyer; my cousin, Paula (Hilyer) Rees; my daddy, Billy Hilyer; me, holding MY picture of Mollie and her family; my uncle, James Hilyer, holding Tim's picture of Mollie; my cousin, Tim Lawson; my aunt, Alice (Hilyer) Beam and my aunt, Dale (Hilyer) Jones.)

 

The mystery of Mollie is far from being solved, but just having these pictures makes her seem more real to me.  It makes me want to keep searching to find out more about her life.  I hope that some day when I'm gone, my great-great-grandchildren will want to learn about that crazy old "Prissy Missy" who loved to look at dusty and faded old pictures, listen to all-but-forgotten stories and traipse through over-grown cemeteries.  In order to make it a lot easier for them, I'll keep all my records backed up on my computer.  If I can just find a thumb drive...

  

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I'm so glad you stopped by my neck of the woods!

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I wouldn't want you to miss one crazy thing... 

 

I HEART...Dead People

Everybody loves Wednesday, right?

The week's half over.  The weekend is on the way.

What's not to love?

Each Wednesday, I want to share something with you

that I absolutely love and can't live without! 

 

I'll bet today's title really caught your attention!  Don't worry.  It's not nearly as macabre as it sounds.  Just wanted to get your attention!  Actually, I  HEART...Genealogy.  But all my ancestors are dead.  Thus the term, ancestors.  See how I tied that all together?

 

I have always been interested in history - especially that of my own family!  I love to hear older relatives tell stories.  I have sat for hours and hours with my greatgrandmother looking at old pictures, listening to the names of those who lived long ago, but not so far away.  And I think I've been in every cemetery in Lowndes County, Georgia!  Why?  Because each of those people had a story, and I want to know it.

 

A few years ago, I bought a membership to ancestry.com and I have been hard at work trying to document my family history.  Luckily, I am standing on the shoulders of some wonderful people who have already done a lot of the work for me, but with today's technology, I am able to gather a lot of the documentation that they have so far been unable to get due to location or availability.  It's a fascinating hobby...if you're into it.  Gerald, bless his heart (you Southerners know what I mean when I use this phrase!), has listened patiently (or at least quietly) as I go on for hours about my elusive greatgreatgrandmother, Mollie Moore Wall. 

 

Here is Mollie standing outside the family home in Eclectic, AL (just minutes from where I live) around 1910 with her son, James Alver Wall (my ggf - he's in the hat on the left)

and her soon-to-be ex-husband, William Wall (my 2ggf in the middle).

She's holding the family Bible and they brought a lamp and table outside.

Fascinating!  See what I mean?   

 

As I began entering information about Gerald's family, I found out his 7th greatgrandfather, Godfrey Ragsdale, survived the 1644 Jamestown massacre as an infant.  Somehow, his parents were able to hide him.  They were killed, but he was found by neighbors (John Cookney and his wife) and adopted by this childless couple.  BTW - did you know this raid was perpetrated by Openchancanough, the uncle of Pocahontas?  (Try writing a movie about that, Disney!)  Recently, we passed through Jamestown on our way to Williamsburg.  Gerald "indulged" me as we stopped to pay tribute to his ancestors!

 

 

I decided that during the month of November, the kids and I are going to do a little genealogical research and work our way back to my 12th greatgrandfather, Pilgrim Stephen Hopkins, who came over on the Mayflower.  I am missing a couple of vital pieces of "proof" and I thought it might be fun for me and the kids to do some digging as we study about the Pilgrims and the first Thanksgiving.  Who knows where it'll lead.

 

 

If you ever decide you want to climb your family tree, I honestly recommend ancestry.com.  It's worth every penny!  You never know what you'll find when you trace your roots.  I have found famous relatives and infamous ones.  You take the good, you take the bad, you take 'em both and there you have...your Family Tree!  But beware - it's an addictive hobby.  I'm just saying. 

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I'm so glad you stopped by my neck of the woods!

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