Because of those obituaries and funeral cards

 During the 2020 pandemic, it has actually been a blessing to have some time on my hands to get some much needed backlog work done. One of those items has been nagging me in the back of my mind for several years.

A box filled with obituaries and funeral cards given to me by my Aunt Betty Jones Stevens. Aunt Betty was married to my mom's youngest brother Richard.

Aunt Betty Jones Stevens b1936 d2017

Aunt Betty knew that all of us girls were interested in that "genealogy stuff", and that the majority of our family members from the mid-1800s until now lived in parts of eastern Kentucky. 

Richard Stevens b1931 d2015

Her husband, my Uncle Dick knew everybody in the county, and if he didn't know them, he knew their brother. His knowledge reached to the surrounding counties, too. In his later years, he went to every funeral he could to console the grieving and pick up a funeral card for us. He also took a fork with him and kept it in his pocket, just in case there was an invitation for the funeral meal. There usually was.

The box of obituaries and funeral cards that Aunt Betty collected for us during the years.

These funeral cards have sat on a shelf in my office for several years - probably pre-2016. The few I saw on top I knew I already had in my possession, for I had likely attended the funeral or had inherited them from my parents.

But, she collected them all, recalling some of the surnames she had heard us mention through the years.

About a month ago I began to photograph and/or scan these items into a folder of "Misc. Families" on my computer. It was then that I thought that I could and should do something more with them.

So, enter FamilySearch.org.

One by one I began to look them up. First, I checked my own database. Second, I began to look on FamilySearch. Under the Memories section, I uploaded the scans to Documents.

That's all that I did. I didn't enter information. I didn't tag anyone. 

I simply uploaded the scans for their family to find someday.

Here is an example of one of them. I am not related to this man - but, someone is.

I absolutely love the information that has been included on this tiny funeral card, and have rethought what may be included on the ones Kerry and I will design for our own funerals. Just look at all of that information on the centerfold!

I also uploaded obituaries and funeral cards I had collected from family, personal friends, church friends, and friends through Boy Scouts. Again, I add no information other than the scan.

So, as of this morning I have added nearly 300 obituaries, and still have half a box that I need to work on. I am keeping the ones who are family members and throwing the rest away.

Out of all of those people, there have only been two I haven't been able to find on FamilySearch. 

So, rather than sit around and wring my hands over a virus I can't do anything about, I have put my time to good use. And perhaps there will be someone, someday who will be glad that I uploaded those scans.

Be Sure to Look Next Door

Some lines on my pedigree are a mess.

I've tried to straighten them out, and so have hundreds of other researchers.  I'm not sure that they're any better than they were a few years ago.

They're all in a wad.

The family lines I am particularly thinking about are the Mullins, who lived in southwest Virginia and southeast Kentucky.  The main problem occurs because of family names that appear in every generation and are spread out among all of the cousins in that generation.  Evidently, some family names were greatly favored.

One thing I love about research is looking at maps.  They can give such a wonderful bird's eye view of a vicinity.

But, most maps don't show the hills and the hollers and the creeks and the valleys and the cliffs...you know what I mean.  It takes a different map for that.

Recently, I was trying to figure out why I wasn't having much luck finding some of my family in the records of Floyd County, Kentucky.  They lived in the southeast part of that county, and should have gone to the county seat of Prestonsburg.

However, I did find several records next door in neighboring Pike County, where the county seat is Pikeville.

Why?

This may be the answer.  Let's look at it closely.

The bottom star is the area where my family lived.

Prestonsburg is the county seat, just to the northwest of them.

Pikeville is just across the county line into Pike County.

A flat map wouldn't tell us much.  But, look at the detail of a topographical map from GoogleEarth.  When the map is enlarged, greater details emerge showing much more of the lay of the land.

It just may have been easier to go next door and pay taxes in Pikeville...which you could do...as opposed to the distance and the terrain to go clear to Prestonsburg.

Just some food for thought.

Forward Thinking - The Moonlight Schools

I have taught about the value of school records in many of my presentations. One of those that I mentioned were the "Moonlight Schools", which began in Rowan County, Kentucky.

It was the beginnings of adult education in America, and was held on the nights the moon was full enough for the students to walk through the woods and the fields to go to school. Mothers were especially grateful, for they could read the letters their children were writing home from WWI.

It was begun by Cora Stewart Wilson, who is pictured above.  She saw the need of adult men and women to read the newspaper, write checks, and read and write correspondence.  In turn, this led to more confidence.

The first Moonlight School

Moonlight School attendees, Everman's Creek, Carter Co., KY

It would soon spread to 34 states.

Here is a wonderful page from Morehead State University in Rowan County to learn more about it.

https://scholarworks.moreheadstate.edu/moonlight_schools_collection/

The Kentucky Research Adventures Never End

15 Sep 2016

MissPeggy and her sisters are at it again. This time,we are in eastern Kentucky, where I am speaking at a conference tomorrow.

Conversation in library:
First man: Well, if it's your baby you need to make things right.
Second man: Well, it just might be.
First man: What are you going to do to make it right?
Second man: Well, I can give her a goat right now, maybe another one later.
First man: That's a good start. It will let her know you're not going to leave her without something to get along with.
Second man: I don't want her to think I'm a knucklehead.

(I know. I shouldn't be eavesdropping. My sisters and I are trying to hold our faces together.)

And, our memories when we passed a familiar town...
Betty: Oh, this is where we followed a man on a horse!
Me: That's right. I turned around in a gas station and got behind a man on a horse. We followed him all the way into town.
Fern: It seems like something else happened here.
Me: Yes, we ended up in the middle of a parade.
Betty: I remember that! It seems like it was a noisy one.
Me: Betty, you had the trombone section beside your window.

We all nod our heads in fond and solemn memory.

16 Sep 2016

I'm fixin' on crying.

There is a young man in the library with us. He is trying to reconstruct his life.

First, his house was flooded and filled with mud. They tried to save what they could

When he finally got it all dried out, it caught fire and he lost everything.

Now, he is here with us trying to copy photos out of school yearbooks so he can have some sort of memory of his life. This is one of many things he's using, besides just trying to find any relative that may have a photo of him.

I'm telling you, I'm fixin' on crying.

AND

This is a library like no other I have ever been to.

They have fed us since we walked in the door. We have had grapes, cheddar cheese, bottled water, granola bars, plus pork chops. Yes, pork chops. Someone brought in extras they had fixed for lunch and asked if we all would like somethin' to eat.

Of course!

Then, she opened up this big tray and there were pork chops an inch thick, with mashed potatoes, green beans with bacon, and biscuits.

Now, she walks in with a box of donuts.

We don't ever, ever want to leave. Please let us roll out and spend the night, for we want to know what's for breakfast!

Oh, and we have found lots of genealogy, too!

17 Sep 2016

We enjoyed a wonderful dinner at the Ramada Inn in Paintsville, Kentucky. We enjoyed something we hadn't had since our grandmother was alive -- potato salad made with mashed potatoes.

I know it may sound a bit odd, but one bite into it brought back every memory we had of visiting her during the summers. The restaurant here had the absolute perfect blend of the pickles, two kinds of onions, etc. Oh, it was good!

Opening festivities tonight included a "Meet and Greet", again with all sorts of foods. I can't remember a time when I have grazed every moment since I pulled out of my driveway. (My mom used to get so mad at my dad when we traveled. She would pack it all up, and he would have it gone before we got out of town.)

There was a wonderful man and woman who spent an hour playing Civil War songs. Both of their voices were good and quite clear.

Another conversation I was part of today:

Man (from a county I'm researching in): Ma'am, what are the names of the people you're looking for?
Me: (I rattled off about a dozen from that county)
Man: I know ever (yes, ever) one of them.
Me: How do you know them?
Man: I drive past their graveyard.
Me: I know right where it's at!
Man: I drive a school bus there ever day.
Me: Are you serious? I've been on that road! Your front end meets your hind end comin' around those hairpin turns.
Man: I know, ma'am. I have to get out and pull my mirrors in.
Me: On your bus?
Man: On my bus. I have to squeeze between two trees. If they get much bigger I'm going to have to figure out how I'm going to do it, for I'm tired of getting out and bending those mirrors in.
Me: Which county do you drive for?
Man: Depends on which curve I'm on.

Good grief.

Later on...

Me (talking to an older woman): I think my tooth is flaring up on me.
Woman: Do you have any sheep dung?
Me: Sheep dung?!?! (trying to recall my mom talking about it)
Woman: I can bring you some tomorrow if it's still a-painin' you.
Me: Uh, no. I do believe I brought something with me to help it some.
Woman: Well, you just let me know.
Me: Oh, I will...

Now, I'm not telling you these things to make fun of the conversations I've had. Not at all. This is Appalachia, and sometimes things run at a different speed here.

These are fine, fine people with deep German and Scots/Irish roots. And, if I ever had to live off the land during famine or a depression, this is where I would want to be.

God bless them all.

AND...

Speaker at conference giving directions to his bookstore...
Man: It's just around the corner from...
Audience: ?
Man: It's two blocks from ...
Audience: ?
Man: It's just down the road from ___ Gun's Supply.
Audience - all in one voice: Oh! We all know where that is! We'll find your shop!!!

18 Sep 2016

Miss Peggy is reflecting after a whirlwind three days with her sisters.

After my sisters fell asleep Friday evening, I thought I heard someone singing. I went to the door, and went out to the hall (like an indoor courtyard) and followed the singing down to where I looked over an atrium. There was a bunch of people attending a Baptist convention, and they couldn't sleep. So, they got up, went downstairs, and started up singing. I stayed upon the balcony and sang right along with them.

As I got back to the room, I tiptoed back to the side of the bed by the wall and window, and got stuck. Something was sticking down my back in my nightgown holding me hostage. I called for Betty, and she jumped up asking what in the world had happened.

That stupid rod that you pull the curtains back and forth with somehow got wedged down my back, and was holding me like a puppet, not able to move.

She got me out of my fix, only to have the same thing happen about ten minutes later.

Fool.

The next morning, a couple were standing behind us at breakfast when the woman said, "You look so familiar. Were you the one on the balcony singing with us?"

Me: (Sheepishly) Well, yes it was. I apologize for being in my nightgown.
Woman: Well, honey...you looked a heck of a lot better than the folks at Walmart!

I have stepped up.

Breakfast was to die for this morning. It was all of the stuff I grew up on - bacon and eggs, sausage, biscuits and gravy, fried apples, waffles, etc.

After being interviewed by the local television station, I began my series of talks, beginning with "Following the Money Using Tax Records". I had these people hollerin' and slappin' the legs - over tax records! Probably because so many of mine were listed as "Distillers" on the actual records.

In between classes, a woman came up to me and asked me if I knew much about "those Mormons". I responded that I did, for I am one. She then proceeded to tell me all about "those Mormons" digging up their dead folks. I assured her that WE didn't, emphasizing that she was indeed talking to one. She said a friend of a friend of hers told her they did, so it must be true.

Honey, just go sit back down.

Soon it was time to leave. After eating and talking and laughing and eating some more and laughing some more, we drove with the beautiful moon shining on us through the hills.

We reminisced about an earlier time...

A turkey buzzard swooped down across the windshield, lodging in the front left fender.
Me: (driving Fern's Toyota van) Good grief!
Betty: What in the world was that thing?
Me: I think it was a teradactyl.
Fern: Is the van okay?
Me: I'm going to pull over and check.

Me...pulling feathers and body parts out of the grill. My sisters are freaking out.

I then noticed that the fender was dislodged from the main body. I cleaned out more feathers, snapped everything back together like Legos, got in the car and drove on.

Fern: Are you sure it's okay?
Me: Are we driving?
Fern: Yes
Me: Do you hear anything flopping?
Fern: No
Me: We're fine. Let's keep going and find us a cemetery.

I will miss my sisters when they're gone. Of course, I'm assuming they will go before me, which may not be the case. But, I can tell things are a bit harder for them than they used to be.

Perhaps, just perhaps, that is why I was born so many years after them.

Just where have you been?

What happened to my grandmother's aunt would never happen here.

I'm telling you, it would never happen here.

This is my line:

Peggy --> Ida --> Bertha --> Celia

This is Celia Moore Gearheart and her daughter, Bertha Gearheart Stevens.

Bertha is my mother's mother.

Celia had a sister named Cora, and she married Doctor William Campbell.

And, he walked away for sixteen years.

Or, maybe it was thirty years.

Several years ago, I came into possession of my mother's journals.  

She was not an educated woman, neither was she uneducated.

In one of them, she recounts the story of Doctor William Campbell.

I have left all of her spelling the same.

You can figure it out.

From the journal of Ida Stevens Clemens

About 1956

"I Ida Clemns have wrote all the Family History I can remember about my grand parents I hope I may be able to find more soe where.  My Grand mother come over in Ky from Ironton Lewarnce Ohio and mett my grand Father and that were married thay help to raise hir sister to children Thelma & Delmer Campbell there mother Cora Moore Campbell his Husband Will Dock Dr. Campbell.  he went away for 16 years before he come back no one nowed Where he went too he come back home and he & aunt Cora went to house keeping and thay lived at Limestone Carter till he Died he was away from home to see some friend of his Koon Moore and he fell of his horse and never did talk any more and he Died at my Grand Father house at Limeston carter Ky.  he was buried at my father Corb Stevens homestead cemetary at or near Lawton Carter Ky. and his wife cora was burred there too and his daughter Thalma Campbell Collins Johnson.  by Ida Stevens Clemens"From the journal of Ida Stevens Clemens

My mom often talked about this scenario, saying that Aunt Cora never asked a word about where he had been.  They just started up where they left off.

I'm telling you, that would not happen in this house.

There would be a lot of explaining to do, 

and if you aren't going to talk... then you're going to listen!

In some of mom's belongings, I ran across this article that she had saved, entitled,

"The Roving Doctor of the Hills"

by Arthur A. Moore

Cora's maiden name is Moore, so this man must be connected in some way.

Plus, a distant cousin of mine uploaded the article onto UsGenWeb.

The Roving Doctor of the Hills

The article states that he was gone for thirty years!

I know that a common mistake that we, as genealogists can be guilty of is something called

"presentism"

which is when we place today's present values 

to interpret situations of the past.

I can't help it in this case.

The article states that he went on practicing medicine all over the southern states, and even across Texas, into Mexico.  I don't know how believable all of the article is, but what I do know is

that he was gone an awful long time!

They had two boys, which Cora must have continued to raise, along with the help of her parents.

He didn't live long after returning home, for he fell off his horse after going to visit Koon Moore.  

He never regained consciousness, and died.

Thelma (daughter), William, and Cora Campbell

Brown Cemetery, Lawton, Carter Co., Kentucky

We never knew why he left, 

and we sure don't know why he came back.

Walkin' the Floor

Most of my ancestors are from eastern Kentucky.

It is part of Appalachia (apple-atcha).

Though some came from the Tidewater region of both Virginia and North Carolina, most came in through the Philadelphia, PA area, settling in Germantown, before coming down the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia with thousands of Germans and Scots-Irish.

And, they are a force to be reckoned with.

My mother used to recount a "legend" to us.  

She said that her father's grandfather, Robert H. Stephens, had his body dug up, and the skeleton hung in Doc Brown's office.  He had assembled the skeleton together to prove he was a doctor.

Others could recall a story where a "hand" floated up to the top of a cauldron of water in the woods near a cemetery, and that Robert Stephens' grave had been dug up.

My line would be as follows:

Ida Stevens --> Corb Stevens --> Richard Stephens --> Robert Stephens

I repeat, these are legends that have been passed down through the family.

One day, while visiting my mother's last living sibling, we got around to the subject of Robert.

I asked him if he thought it was true.

He honestly didn't know.

But, he did say a picture of Robert had been found, and that if I wanted to see it, just go "up the road a piece" to Loreada's house.

If she doesn't answer, just peek through the front door window.  The picture is hanging on the opposite wall.

This is Kentucky.  

It's not wise to go peeking in through someone's window.

But, I thought it was worth the effort, so Mr. Kerry and our four children piled into the van and drove "up the road a piece" to Loreada's.

I told them to wait in the van.

I always do.

I knocked on the door.

There was no answer.

I knocked again.

There was no answer.

So, I gave in and peeked through the door.

And, a set of eyes were peeking right back at me!

I thought I might wake up dead.

Once she focused in on me, she exclaimed, "Law, it's Ida's girl!  Get yourself on in here!!"

As I have mentioned before, things move at a slower speed in the south.

You have to move at that speed, or people may be suspicious of you.

I asked how she knew me, and she said she would have recognized me anywhere, for I looked just like Ida - her childhood playmate and cousin.

And, she looked just like Ida, my mom.

We talked for quite awhile, and she told me about some research she had done on the family.

Then, I asked her about the picture.

She went and got it, and I was absolutely astounded.

Loreada holding the picture of Robert Stephens

Robert's grandson, Corb - my grandfather.

She didn't mind me taking lots of pictures of the picture.  I had an old Vivitar point and shoot, so I carefully laid it outside in natural lighting and took pictures from every angle I could.  This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for me, so I had to get it right.

Then, I asked her how in the world she had obtained it.

She said the people up the holler from her had been tearing up their flooring and found it there.

(Note:  Many times, people would use newspapers, magazines, and I guess, photos, to help insulate walls and floors)

Mr. Kerry asked me, "So, were they singing, 'I'm Walkin' the Floor Over You"?

Smart aleck.

Now, the legend of his skeleton will probably remain a mystery.

Although, while visiting my uncle a few years later, he received a phone call asking if he wanted Robert.  I was only half-listening.

He said to hang on, for Peggy's here and I'll ask her.

Someone was cleaning out a closet of an old building downtown and had found pieces of what they thought were a skeleton.

Did I want them?

No.

An emphatic NO.

I have enough skeletons in my closet.

Please, please bury them.

And, let whoever it is rest in peace.

Women's History Month - #5

Onward we go with the lives of valiant women!

March 5 — How did they meet? You’ve documented marriages, now, go back a bit. Do you know the story of how your parents met? Your grandparents?

My mom used to tell me that she and dad met at church.  Then, she would later say that they didn't really grow up going to church.  So, I'm not sure how they met, other than the fact that Dad worked at the limestone quarry where Mom's father, Corb Stevens, was the foreman.

The old limestone quarry at Lawton, KY.  It was later a mushroom factory, where the conditions were perfect for growing mushrooms.

My dad's parents, Richard Lee and Fannie Collier Clemens.  The story about how they met is unknown to me.  

My mom's parents, Corb and Bertha Gearheart Stevens.  The story about how they met is unknown to me.

How sad it is that these people that I knew so well in my life have stories that will never be known to me.  I can only surmise that their love story echoes that of my parents; they married because there wasn't anything else to do.

In eastern Kentucky, opportunities for going beyond the few counties around one's home were few.  You married who you knew; those your parents knew, those you went to school with, those you saw at church, those that lived up the holler.

Oh, if I could just have about five minutes more with each of them!

How Pawpaw Got His Name

My maternal grandfather's name was Corbett Sullivan Stevens.

Pawpaw was born in 1892 in Winkler, Elliott County, Kentucky.  We think.

Corbett Sullivan is not really a Kentucky name.  It has no hillbilly roots.  And, there is absolutely no namesake, no naming pattern, nothing that would elude as to why he was given this name.

His own father died at a very young age.  He was only 27 years old, and his mother eventually married again.

The Stevens name is quite common in eastern Kentucky.  Many of them are descended from Gilbert Stevens/Stephens, a Revolutionary War patriot who eventually moved to Morgan County, Kentucky.  It has not been difficult to follow his descendants.

My mother often said that Pawpaw didn't really know his own birthdate.  When asked to provide one for military service or Social Security, he basically made one up.  The date he made up was 6 Sep 1892.  Apparently, it was good enough.

Recently, I was talking with my uncle, the last of the long line of children from Corb and wife Bertha's family.  I asked him if he had any idea how his father had gotten his name.  Uncle Dick replied that he thought he was named after a prize fighter.

A prize fighter?

I came home and began to do a Google search on anything about the name Corbett Sullivan.  A whole new world opened up to me.

James J. Corbett was quite the prizefighter.  He was a professional boxer and World Heavyweight Champion.  His father brought the family from Ireland.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_J._Corbett

His most famous fight was against John L. Sullivan, which took place on 7 Sep 1892.  Now, scroll upwards and look at the birthdate of my grandfather again.

John Sullivan was the first American athlete to earn over a million dollars.  He was born in the South End of Boston to Irish immigrant parents, and was known as The Boston Strongboy.  In 1892, he agreed to defend his title by fighting Gentleman Jim Corbett in New Orleans.  Tickets went for the hefty price of $5-15, and the venue was filled with 10,000 spectators.

Corbett was younger and faster, and was able to dodge the blows from Sullivan.  After 21 rounds, it was over.  Corbett had won the fight against Sullivan.  Later, Sullivan remarked, "If I had to get licked, I'm glad I was licked by an American."

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_L._Sullivan

Apparently, news of this fight made it all the way to the hills and hollers of Eastern Kentucky.  And quite possibly, my mother's family knew of it.

Now, do I know for sure that my grandfather was named in honor of this famous fight?  No.  I don't know that I'll ever know that for sure.  What I do know is that for several earlier generations, there is absolutely no one named Corbett or Sullivan in the Stevens family of Eastern Kentucky.

I am grateful for www.wikipedia.com for providing the information necessary for this blogpost.  I would never have known about it otherwise.