--part1_34.a6d5117.26f2bc4c_boundary Content-Type: text/plain; charset="US-ASCII" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit I got this on another site; thought folks might be interested. Barbara << RAILROAD RETIREMENT RECORDS For those of you doing genealogical research on family members who worked for the railroad, the U.S. Railroad Retirement Board site is a good place to visit. Go to http://www.rrb.gov/geneal.html Not only does this site give excellent advice on how to research railroad retirement and pension records, but it also suggests ways to extend the research before 1836, when most railroads began in the United States. In addition, it leads you to other sites with valuable information on specific railroad lines. >> --part1_34.a6d5117.26f2bc4c_boundary Content-Type: message/rfc822 Content-Disposition: inline Return-Path: <[email protected]> Received: from rly-yb01.mx.aol.com (rly-yb01.mail.aol.com [172.18.146.1]) by air-yb01.mail.aol.com (v75_b3.15) with ESMTP; Thu, 14 Sep 2000 06:36:55 -0400 Received: from outmta026.topica.com (outmta026.topica.com [206.132.75.244]) by rly-yb01.mx.aol.com (v75_b4.3) with ESMTP; Thu, 14 Sep 2000 06:36:43 -0400 To: [email protected] From: TipWorld <[email protected]> Subject: TipWorld's Genealogy [RAILROAD RETIREMENT RECORDS - 09/14/2000] Date: Thu, 14 Sep 2000 03:35:06 -0700 Message-ID: <[email protected]> Reply-To: [email protected] X-Topica-Loop: 1800000150 X-Mailer: Unknown TipWorld - http://www.tipworld.com The Internet's #1 Source for Computer Tips, News, and Gossip Proudly presents: Genealogy ---------------------------------------------- Made possible today by Take the pressure off by shopping at the Fingerhut.com Back To School Event. Click Here to Save Now! http://click.topica.com/aaaax2bz8QVebAd5Mra/Fingerhut ---------------------------------------------- And now for today's tip... RAILROAD RETIREMENT RECORDS For those of you doing genealogical research on family members who worked for the railroad, the U.S. Railroad Retirement Board site is a good place to visit. Go to http://www.rrb.gov/geneal.html Not only does this site give excellent advice on how to research railroad retirement and pension records, but it also suggests ways to extend the research before 1836, when most railroads began in the United States. In addition, it leads you to other sites with valuable information on specific railroad lines. ---------------------------------------------- Diana J. Muir, Professional Genealog

I am searching for any and all information I can get on S. W. W. Leegan. He was born February 14, 1825 and died February 9, 1904. His wife was Martha Brumager, born 1832 and died before 1870. They lived in the old 23rd district, north of Big Sandy, TN. S. W. W. is buried in the Leegan Cemetery on the National Wildlife Refuge just off of New Hope Road. Their children were: Sara Ann Leegan, April 30, 1852, married 1)David Rhodes, 2)Robert B. McCampbell, and 3) David Cole Alsup. The second child was John Leegan, born 1855, married Martha Frances "Fannie" Upchurch. The third child was M. J. Leegan, 1861, no information. The fourth child was W. R. Leegan, March 26, 1863, I think this was a girl, but not sure. I cannot find S. W. W.'s parents, or where they were from, or anything. Please help! Thanks in advance! Roy A. Milner

The Lake County, TN Historical Society has published a new book which is available for purchase NOW!!!! Night Riders of Reelfoot Lake - Compiled by the Lake County Historical Society The Lake County Banner ran a series of articles by Dr. Alfred Franko in 1953 and they have given permission to the Lake County Historical Society to reprint these articles. There is also an article disputing common myth about an Incident at Keefe which was always erroneously blamed on the Night Riders Dr Franko thoroughly researched the articles and talked to several of theactual Night Riders in obtaining information for the articles. The article concerning the incident erroneously blamed on the Night Riders came from interviews with people who were actually involved in the incident. The cost of the book, including postage, is only $25.00. Publications may be ordered from: Lake County Historical Society c/o Mrs. Arline Orr, Treasurer 405 Moss Street Tiptonville, TN 38079

I.m sorry but you have the wrong Dave. At 04:40 PM 09/11/00 -0500, you wrote: >Dave you posted this message back in May, you did not indicate what >newspaper this information was from. I am interested in all the Wheatleys'. >I would like to post the information to each record for these individuals. >If you have the information. Thanks Wil. > >----- Original Message ----- >From: "David L. Snow" <[email protected]> >To: <[email protected]> >Sent: Thursday, May 11, 2000 11:45 AM >Subject: Some old info > > >> Some old newspaper info from Big Sandy and other Benton Co. areas, that >> some of >> the newer members to the DC Community might be interested in. This was >> originally provided by JP. >> >> Dave >> >> -------------- >> > >> > March 9, 1885 >> > A general war among the Eastern powers is becoming imminent. >> > >> > There is a great deal of sickness on our creek at present. Mrs. Emily >> Gross, >> > Mrs. Robert Gross, James Gross and Mrs. Sack Wheatley are on the sick >list. >> > Some very severe cases of pneumonia. >> > Jimmie Gross left for parts unknown yesterday. I wish him success where >> e'er >> > he roams. >> > Sheriff Kirk had better take charge of his deputy in the 7th district >and >> > board him with Mr. Bivens, until he gets well of the itch. He has given >it >> > to >> > everybody on this creek, and they have declared war against him in the >next >> > election. >> > Jack Akers was united in marriage to Mrs. Mary Carter last monday by >Esq. >> > Jas. >> > K. Wheatley. I hope happiness and prosperity may be their lot as they >move >> > down the hill of time. >> > Mat Wheatley gave his foot an ugly cut a few days ago. >> > Rev. Fate Akers preached at our church last Sunday. >> > Mrs. Lizzie Pierce, daughter of our neighbor, P.S. Nance is very low >with >> > consumption. >> > >> > October 17, 1884 >> > Seeing there has been nothing from this creek for some time, I will beg >the >> > space to give your readers a few items. >> > Our farmers at present are engaged in pulling their peanuts. They >report >> > that >> > they will have a good yield. >> > The cotton yield will be very sorry this year. Our farmers are falling >out >> > with cotton any how. >> > The tobacco crop was damaged to some extent by the hail. The most of >the >> > crop >> > has been cut and housed. >> > The corn crop is very good, and farmers will soon begin gathering it. >> > Wheat sowing is not going on. There will be the largest crop sown this >fall >> > that was ever known. I. N. Akers received one bushel of wheat from the >> > Department of Agriculture last fall that yielded twelve bushels and was >not >> > affected by the frost in the least. >> > Health has not been very good on our creek this fall. Several deaths >having >> > occurred among the children. We are glad to state, however, that it is >> > improving. >> > Mr. T. S. Hall, who has been very sick for quite a while is now able to >be >> > up. >> > >> > May 23, 1884 >> > Thinking you would like to hear from this part of the vineyard again - >> > thought >> > I would jot down a few items. >> > The swift winged messenger of death has been in our minds, claiming for >its >> > victims Mr. Thomas S. Hall and Seth Stagner. They died in the triumph >of >> the >> > Lord. >> > Blind Jeff Reddick is down among us. Poor fellow, he will have his fun, >> > though he be an object of pity. >> > W. E. Wheatley's writing school proved a success. He left last week to >> begin >> > a school on Sulphur Creek. >> > From the signs of the times there is going to be a wedding on this creek >> > pretty soon. >> > Jack Wheatley was united to Miss Sarah Cosgrove for better or for worse >> > several weeks ago. Also Jethroe McKenzie to Miss Jennie Butler. As they >> > glide >> > down life's meandering stream, we wish them success. >> > Miss Annie Butler, one of Crooked's sweetest girls, paid Paris a flying >> visit >> > last week. >> > Mr. Newt Akers and Gilbert McKenzie contemplate erecting a saw and grist >> mill >> > at what is known as Benton Cut near Faxon, Tenn. Newt says he will be >> > sheriffing alone for a while. >> > Rev. C.C. Bell preached a very interesting sermon to a large audience at >> this >> > place yesterday. >> > Farmers are preparing for a new crop, such as repairing fences, cutting >> > briars, rolling logs, etc. We love to see the good work go on. >> > (copy difficult to read on) >> > >> > Some Ads: >> > C. McGill, dry goods, notions, hats, caps, boots, shoes, Camden >> > W. Rye, Clerk, Camden, Hardware, Queensware and general groceries - >butter >> > and >> > eggs taken at highest market price - otherwise sell strickly for cash. >> > Pianos and organs, Jesse French, Nashville >> > Knabe, Wever, Hardman, Haines New England Pianos and Peloubet Organs >> > Andrews Hotel (formerly St. Charles) fare $1.50 per day, Nashville >> >> >> >> >> ==== DanvilleCrossing Mailing List ==== >> My family Coat of Arms ties at the back ...... >> is that normal ??? >> > > >==== DanvilleCrossing Mailing List ==== >My family Coat of Arms ties at the back ...... >is that normal ??? > > David L. Rushing Rt 2 Box 272A Golconda IL 62938 [email protected] 618-949-3759

Dave you posted this message back in May, you did not indicate what newspaper this information was from. I am interested in all the Wheatleys'. I would like to post the information to each record for these individuals. If you have the information. Thanks Wil. ----- Original Message ----- From: "David L. Snow" <[email protected]> To: <[email protected]> Sent: Thursday, May 11, 2000 11:45 AM Subject: Some old info > Some old newspaper info from Big Sandy and other Benton Co. areas, that > some of > the newer members to the DC Community might be interested in. This was > originally provided by JP. > > Dave > > -------------- > > > > March 9, 1885 > > A general war among the Eastern powers is becoming imminent. > > > > There is a great deal of sickness on our creek at present. Mrs. Emily > Gross, > > Mrs. Robert Gross, James Gross and Mrs. Sack Wheatley are on the sick list. > > Some very severe cases of pneumonia. > > Jimmie Gross left for parts unknown yesterday. I wish him success where > e'er > > he roams. > > Sheriff Kirk had better take charge of his deputy in the 7th district and > > board him with Mr. Bivens, until he gets well of the itch. He has given it > > to > > everybody on this creek, and they have declared war against him in the next > > election. > > Jack Akers was united in marriage to Mrs. Mary Carter last monday by Esq. > > Jas. > > K. Wheatley. I hope happiness and prosperity may be their lot as they move > > down the hill of time. > > Mat Wheatley gave his foot an ugly cut a few days ago. > > Rev. Fate Akers preached at our church last Sunday. > > Mrs. Lizzie Pierce, daughter of our neighbor, P.S. Nance is very low with > > consumption. > > > > October 17, 1884 > > Seeing there has been nothing from this creek for some time, I will beg the > > space to give your readers a few items. > > Our farmers at present are engaged in pulling their peanuts. They report > > that > > they will have a good yield. > > The cotton yield will be very sorry this year. Our farmers are falling out > > with cotton any how. > > The tobacco crop was damaged to some extent by the hail. The most of the > > crop > > has been cut and housed. > > The corn crop is very good, and farmers will soon begin gathering it. > > Wheat sowing is not going on. There will be the largest crop sown this fall > > that was ever known. I. N. Akers received one bushel of wheat from the > > Department of Agriculture last fall that yielded twelve bushels and was not > > affected by the frost in the least. > > Health has not been very good on our creek this fall. Several deaths having > > occurred among the children. We are glad to state, however, that it is > > improving. > > Mr. T. S. Hall, who has been very sick for quite a while is now able to be > > up. > > > > May 23, 1884 > > Thinking you would like to hear from this part of the vineyard again - > > thought > > I would jot down a few items. > > The swift winged messenger of death has been in our minds, claiming for its > > victims Mr. Thomas S. Hall and Seth Stagner. They died in the triumph of > the > > Lord. > > Blind Jeff Reddick is down among us. Poor fellow, he will have his fun, > > though he be an object of pity. > > W. E. Wheatley's writing school proved a success. He left last week to > begin > > a school on Sulphur Creek. > > From the signs of the times there is going to be a wedding on this creek > > pretty soon. > > Jack Wheatley was united to Miss Sarah Cosgrove for better or for worse > > several weeks ago. Also Jethroe McKenzie to Miss Jennie Butler. As they > > glide > > down life's meandering stream, we wish them success. > > Miss Annie Butler, one of Crooked's sweetest girls, paid Paris a flying > visit > > last week. > > Mr. Newt Akers and Gilbert McKenzie contemplate erecting a saw and grist > mill > > at what is known as Benton Cut near Faxon, Tenn. Newt says he will be > > sheriffing alone for a while. > > Rev. C.C. Bell preached a very interesting sermon to a large audience at > this > > place yesterday. > > Farmers are preparing for a new crop, such as repairing fences, cutting > > briars, rolling logs, etc. We love to see the good work go on. > > (copy difficult to read on) > > > > Some Ads: > > C. McGill, dry goods, notions, hats, caps, boots, shoes, Camden > > W. Rye, Clerk, Camden, Hardware, Queensware and general groceries - butter > > and > > eggs taken at highest market price - otherwise sell strickly for cash. > > Pianos and organs, Jesse French, Nashville > > Knabe, Wever, Hardman, Haines New England Pianos and Peloubet Organs > > Andrews Hotel (formerly St. Charles) fare $1.50 per day, Nashville > > > > > ==== DanvilleCrossing Mailing List ==== > My family Coat of Arms ties at the back ...... > is that normal ??? >

I was asked to post this, and see no reason why not. It may help some of you. It obviously covers all of Tennessee, which might mean you get some things you are not interested in, but it might be a good one too. At 09:10 PM 9/9/00 -0600, you wrote: >Dear List Owner. > >I have started a new mailing list called >TN-Cemeteries. It is a mailing list for anyone interested in locating, >and preserving historical information about, Tennessee cemeteries or >sharing information about them. > >To subscribe to this list - have your members send the word subscribe to > >[email protected] or >[email protected] for the digest form. > >I look forward to helping this list grow and become another tool for >those researching in Tennessee. > >Kathleen Burnett >List Mom

"Family History: Are there any 'bones' in it?" (from the Sunday Afternoon Rocking Series) Afternoon All... I heard an interesting story recently. It was told to make another point completely, but it is actually also a very good way to make sense of why many of us simply cannot stick to simply names, dates and facts in our genealogical searches, and search so for the stories that "flesh it all out". It seems a little boy was very afraid of storms, and each night that one occurred, his father would find the boy standing by his parents' bedside, wanting a little comfort, a little assurance...and to climb into bed with some warm bodies. One night a storm was particularly horrific, and the accompanying crashes of thunder resounded through the house. It came as no surprise when dad looked up to see a small pale face beside the bed, eyes anxious and wide with pleading. After some deliberation, dad finally got the boy to go back to bed, telling him all would be well, his folks were in the next room, and that if the boy held his teddy bear very tightly it would be morning before he knew it and the sun would be shining. Next morning at breakfast, dad leaned over to the small boy seated at the table beside him. "How did the teddy bear work?", he asked. "Well", replied the boy, his small face very serious, "It worked ok....but really....it would feel better if I could hold onto something with bones in it!" I think that holds true for a lot of things. A teddy bear is a fine thing, comforting and warm and nice to have in one's possession. A documented family tree is also a fine thing, secure and interesting and understandably the time it takes to research one a thing of which to feel justifiably proud. But names, dates, facts are simply that. If that is all our research is about, we really have "left the bones out of it". We have not had that moment of understanding how the events and personalities of another age have influenced our own, and what we have come to be. We have not grasped the significance of recognizing how patterns of both successes and failures within a family repeat themselves, and how understanding those, we can choose to proliferate them or end them. We have not understood how history can suddenly jump from the dry pages of a textbook and hit us with all of its rich significance until we have understood from a family's personal place in it why and how history actually evolved. Without "bones" our research is not much more than a dry list of itemized facts with little meaning for anyone save the person who has collected it, and that meaning devoid of anything richly layered and textured with all of the lessons and nuances of appreciation a family history can unfold. The "bones" of a family tree are not always found in legal documents, or indeed in any documents at all. They are not always found in indisputable sources. They are found more by reading what is not written than what is. They are found by looking at what no longer exists as much as by studying what does. They are found by listening and more than that...hearing what is not said as well as what is. They are found by looking at a curiosity in a family while stepping into the time period in which the curiosity happened. They are found by paying attention to times and places and legends passed among people. The "bones" of a family can't be disinterred until the reason for digging up bones is recognized. just a thought, jan

It is probably a little off base for the DC group, but does anybody out there have access to a listing of those men who applied for a Confederate pension from Kentucky? The state charges $12 just to search and while I don't mind paying that for a copy of a pension I hate to pay it to have them tell me there is not one. My man was named JOHN HOWARD PALMER (1835-1915) from Fulton, KY. His widow had an application as a Confederate widow, and since he did not die until 1915 he might also. Thanks for the help! Knox Martin

Jan, I dearly love the piece you wrote today.. It brings back good memories and bad memories.. I worked as a nurse for 16 years the last 4 years as a Nursing Home Nurse and it broke my heart to see all the people that were placed in there and then the family never visited... My heart was broken on a regular basis.. Then the last 6 months I worked my mother was admitted for rehab from pneumonia , and wound up in a bed in the fetal position not knowing anyone... That is why I had to leave nursing , my heart just could not take it any more.............................. Mollie ----- Original Message ----- From: j <[email protected]> To: <[email protected]> Sent: Friday, September 01, 2000 3:52 PM Subject: [DC] Sunday Afternoon Rocking > Note: Because of the holiday, Sunday Afternoon Rocking is being delivered > early. > > As They Were (from the "Sunday Afternoon Rocking" series) > > Afternoon All, > > "What was she like?", they asked me. "We see them as they are now, as they > come to us...but we don't often know how they were." And surprised and > gladdened they had asked, had given me the opportunity to tell them about > the vibrant life someone I loved dearly had loved, I began to tell them... > > For some time now, I have been visiting with frequency those places I once > was exposed to only periodically. I am becoming a bit more used to them, > to the smells of strong cleansing agents meant to cover the smell of urine, > of medicine, of the unpleasantries that seem attached to those final days > of aging. I am becoming used to seeing folk in every stage of their final > years, some aware and some not so, some sadly accepting and knowing, some > cheerfully greeting the days that are theirs now. Nursing homes no longer > shock or disturb me to the point of avoidance, and somehow, from the frame > of reference I now regard them, I see the folks that dwell there in a far > different light. > > There was no one quite like her in the world, I thought. She was magical, > some beautiful fairy godmother that stepped from the pages of one of my > storybooks, and only existed when I visited Tennessee. She was the > beautiful lady with the pretty and not at all practical dresses and > matching accessories. She was the lady who loved to dance and loved to > laugh and had more friends than I could count. She was the maker of more > than just cakes..but cakes that took some time to think through. And the > little touches like "coconut Easter grass with jelly bean eggs" were those > magical things practical busy mothers did not have time to attend to. She > was the aunt who, never having had children of her own, delighted in > escaping the kitchen where her sisters were preparing a family dinner, for > the sole purpose of thinking up escapades to entertain a lonely little > girl. She was the one who slipped out with me after bedtime to catch > lightening bugs, poked holes in a jar-home for them and let me slip them > under the covers with me to watch until I fell asleep. She was the one who > took time to slip off to a bookstore, where my eyes grew wide at the > possibilities, and bought a book of my very own so long as I promised not > to begin reading it until I went home. I mustn't have my "nose in a book" > when we could be "playing"! She was the one who planned picnics in the > park just with me, who didn't tell when I wanted to slip up at night for a > snack. She slipped me a "frog skin" when I left to go back home with my > parents, and I would sit and smell the dollar bill all the way home because > somehow her fragrance had managed to attach itself. > > She lays in a hospital bed now, mumbling sometimes, but incapable of speech > or memories or awareness of where she is. She does not know my name. I am > not sure she remembers her own. Although she was once the same height and > size as my adult self, she now weighs no more than a small child, and she > lies curled up in a position that belies the frame she once had. They come > to change her, come to see that she is getting nourishment, come to inject > medicine and clean her...but they never hear her laughter, never see her > dancing, never know the lady who loved the color pink so well and wore it > at every opportunity. I wonder how many of them wonder... how many of them > think that this bare shell of a person was once perhaps more vibrant and > alive than they. Two did...because they asked...and surprised me...but how > many? How many who tend to her? How many visitors who happen to glance > into her room bother to realize? And sometimes I want to shout down the > halls, "Let me tell you who she was! Who she really is!" The thought is > futile...except in terms of my own growth. > > I look at the others now with new eyes. The man who drools from the side > of his mouth, whose glassy stare tells me his awareness is now gone...who > was he? Did he fish once with a young son? Did he escort a beautiful > young daughter down an aisle? Did he come home one day with a bouquet of > flowers to surprise a wife? The lady who stands and writes invisible > numbers on a wall...was she a teacher? Is she at her blackboard trying to > explain to a group of students how to perform a mathematical > operation? Did she tie shoes, and dry tears, and pull baby teeth to wrap > up in a tissue for a child to take home to mom? They have a story, all of > them. Every one of them has been vital and active, laughing and > mobile...they all have a story. Some I can talk to and their eyes will > brighten when they realize someone wants to hear. Some I cannot, and I can > only imagine stories for them, appreciating that those stories indeed are > there. They have been where we are, they are where many of us will > be. They come to the final stages of life with a story. And somehow, if > we can only learn to look past the clusters of them in all those unpleasant > stages of aging, if we can only train our eyes to see beyond what appears > to be there...they still have a lesson for us, a deep lesson about life and > mortality, closure and aging, youth and appreciation, a lesson worthwhile > to learn. > > Next time listen. Listen with your eyes and smell with your ears...give > them time to tell you, and their families a chance to tell you, when they > cannot or won't... imagine...you won't be so far off base. They lived the > lives we live...and they are we and we are them. > > just a thought, > jan > > Copyright ©2000JanPhilpot > .________________________________________________ > (Note: Afternoon Rocking messages are meant to be passed on, meant to be > shared...simply share as written without alterations...and in entirety. > Thanks, jan) > Sunday Afternoon Rocking columns are distributed weekly on the list Sunday > Rocking. This is not a "reply to" list, and normally only one message per > week will come across it, that being the column. To subscribe send email to > [email protected] > _________________________________________________ > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > ==== DanvilleCrossing Mailing List ==== > My family Coat of Arms ties at the back ...... > is that normal ??? > >

I live in Michigan, but both my parents were from Springfield and Dickson. Pat Surnames: JONES, COTTER, MURPHY, CRUTCHER, WINN, VAUGHN, CRAWELL/CROWELL, ELLIOTT, RAINES, WELLS/WILLS

Jan, As usual you have brought tears to my eyes. I was picturing my grandmother in the nursing home before she passed away and all of the uncaring help that was their for her final days. if only we could go back and tell them who she really was. how she raised 6 children, 10 grandchildren and 19 great grandchildren before they took her from her home and put her in that unfeeling place. i had never forgiven my family for this until now. Thanks to you maybe I can think of the good times we had in the pass and hope that well she was in that horrible place that maybe that is also how her final days were. Filled with memories and looking for to her time with god. Once again thank you for your wonderful memories and the sharing of them with us. I hope the Aunties are doing fine and also you. Take care, Toni -----Original Message----- From: j <[email protected]> To: [email protected] <[email protected]> Date: Friday, September 01, 2000 4:39 PM Subject: [DC] Sunday Afternoon Rocking >Note: Because of the holiday, Sunday Afternoon Rocking is being delivered >early. > > As They Were (from the "Sunday Afternoon Rocking" series) > >Afternoon All, > >"What was she like?", they asked me. "We see them as they are now, as they >come to us...but we don't often know how they were." And surprised and >gladdened they had asked, had given me the opportunity to tell them about >the vibrant life someone I loved dearly had loved, I began to tell them... > >For some time now, I have been visiting with frequency those places I once >was exposed to only periodically. I am becoming a bit more used to them, >to the smells of strong cleansing agents meant to cover the smell of urine, >of medicine, of the unpleasantries that seem attached to those final days >of aging. I am becoming used to seeing folk in every stage of their final >years, some aware and some not so, some sadly accepting and knowing, some >cheerfully greeting the days that are theirs now. Nursing homes no longer >shock or disturb me to the point of avoidance, and somehow, from the frame >of reference I now regard them, I see the folks that dwell there in a far >different light. > >There was no one quite like her in the world, I thought. She was magical, >some beautiful fairy godmother that stepped from the pages of one of my >storybooks, and only existed when I visited Tennessee. She was the >beautiful lady with the pretty and not at all practical dresses and >matching accessories. She was the lady who loved to dance and loved to >laugh and had more friends than I could count. She was the maker of more >than just cakes..but cakes that took some time to think through. And the >little touches like "coconut Easter grass with jelly bean eggs" were those >magical things practical busy mothers did not have time to attend to. She >was the aunt who, never having had children of her own, delighted in >escaping the kitchen where her sisters were preparing a family dinner, for >the sole purpose of thinking up escapades to entertain a lonely little >girl. She was the one who slipped out with me after bedtime to catch >lightening bugs, poked holes in a jar-home for them and let me slip them >under the covers with me to watch until I fell asleep. She was the one who >took time to slip off to a bookstore, where my eyes grew wide at the >possibilities, and bought a book of my very own so long as I promised not >to begin reading it until I went home. I mustn't have my "nose in a book" >when we could be "playing"! She was the one who planned picnics in the >park just with me, who didn't tell when I wanted to slip up at night for a >snack. She slipped me a "frog skin" when I left to go back home with my >parents, and I would sit and smell the dollar bill all the way home because >somehow her fragrance had managed to attach itself. > >She lays in a hospital bed now, mumbling sometimes, but incapable of speech >or memories or awareness of where she is. She does not know my name. I am >not sure she remembers her own. Although she was once the same height and >size as my adult self, she now weighs no more than a small child, and she >lies curled up in a position that belies the frame she once had. They come >to change her, come to see that she is getting nourishment, come to inject >medicine and clean her...but they never hear her laughter, never see her >dancing, never know the lady who loved the color pink so well and wore it >at every opportunity. I wonder how many of them wonder... how many of them >think that this bare shell of a person was once perhaps more vibrant and >alive than they. Two did...because they asked...and surprised me...but how >many? How many who tend to her? How many visitors who happen to glance >into her room bother to realize? And sometimes I want to shout down the >halls, "Let me tell you who she was! Who she really is!" The thought is >futile...except in terms of my own growth. > >I look at the others now with new eyes. The man who drools from the side >of his mouth, whose glassy stare tells me his awareness is now gone...who >was he? Did he fish once with a young son? Did he escort a beautiful >young daughter down an aisle? Did he come home one day with a bouquet of >flowers to surprise a wife? The lady who stands and writes invisible >numbers on a wall...was she a teacher? Is she at her blackboard trying to >explain to a group of students how to perform a mathematical >operation? Did she tie shoes, and dry tears, and pull baby teeth to wrap >up in a tissue for a child to take home to mom? They have a story, all of >them. Every one of them has been vital and active, laughing and >mobile...they all have a story. Some I can talk to and their eyes will >brighten when they realize someone wants to hear. Some I cannot, and I can >only imagine stories for them, appreciating that those stories indeed are >there. They have been where we are, they are where many of us will >be. They come to the final stages of life with a story. And somehow, if >we can only learn to look past the clusters of them in all those unpleasant >stages of aging, if we can only train our eyes to see beyond what appears >to be there...they still have a lesson for us, a deep lesson about life and >mortality, closure and aging, youth and appreciation, a lesson worthwhile >to learn. > >Next time listen. Listen with your eyes and smell with your ears...give >them time to tell you, and their families a chance to tell you, when they >cannot or won't... imagine...you won't be so far off base. They lived the >lives we live...and they are we and we are them. > >just a thought, >jan > >Copyright ©2000JanPhilpot >.________________________________________________ >(Note: Afternoon Rocking messages are meant to be passed on, meant to be >shared...simply share as written without alterations...and in entirety. >Thanks, jan) >Sunday Afternoon Rocking columns are distributed weekly on the list Sunday >Rocking. This is not a "reply to" list, and normally only one message per >week will come across it, that being the column. To subscribe send email to >[email protected] >_________________________________________________ > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >==== DanvilleCrossing Mailing List ==== >My family Coat of Arms ties at the back ...... >is that normal ???

Note: Because of the holiday, Sunday Afternoon Rocking is being delivered early. As They Were (from the "Sunday Afternoon Rocking" series) Afternoon All, "What was she like?", they asked me. "We see them as they are now, as they come to us...but we don't often know how they were." And surprised and gladdened they had asked, had given me the opportunity to tell them about the vibrant life someone I loved dearly had loved, I began to tell them... For some time now, I have been visiting with frequency those places I once was exposed to only periodically. I am becoming a bit more used to them, to the smells of strong cleansing agents meant to cover the smell of urine, of medicine, of the unpleasantries that seem attached to those final days of aging. I am becoming used to seeing folk in every stage of their final years, some aware and some not so, some sadly accepting and knowing, some cheerfully greeting the days that are theirs now. Nursing homes no longer shock or disturb me to the point of avoidance, and somehow, from the frame of reference I now regard them, I see the folks that dwell there in a far different light. There was no one quite like her in the world, I thought. She was magical, some beautiful fairy godmother that stepped from the pages of one of my storybooks, and only existed when I visited Tennessee. She was the beautiful lady with the pretty and not at all practical dresses and matching accessories. She was the lady who loved to dance and loved to laugh and had more friends than I could count. She was the maker of more than just cakes..but cakes that took some time to think through. And the little touches like "coconut Easter grass with jelly bean eggs" were those magical things practical busy mothers did not have time to attend to. She was the aunt who, never having had children of her own, delighted in escaping the kitchen where her sisters were preparing a family dinner, for the sole purpose of thinking up escapades to entertain a lonely little girl. She was the one who slipped out with me after bedtime to catch lightening bugs, poked holes in a jar-home for them and let me slip them under the covers with me to watch until I fell asleep. She was the one who took time to slip off to a bookstore, where my eyes grew wide at the possibilities, and bought a book of my very own so long as I promised not to begin reading it until I went home. I mustn't have my "nose in a book" when we could be "playing"! She was the one who planned picnics in the park just with me, who didn't tell when I wanted to slip up at night for a snack. She slipped me a "frog skin" when I left to go back home with my parents, and I would sit and smell the dollar bill all the way home because somehow her fragrance had managed to attach itself. She lays in a hospital bed now, mumbling sometimes, but incapable of speech or memories or awareness of where she is. She does not know my name. I am not sure she remembers her own. Although she was once the same height and size as my adult self, she now weighs no more than a small child, and she lies curled up in a position that belies the frame she once had. They come to change her, come to see that she is getting nourishment, come to inject medicine and clean her...but they never hear her laughter, never see her dancing, never know the lady who loved the color pink so well and wore it at every opportunity. I wonder how many of them wonder... how many of them think that this bare shell of a person was once perhaps more vibrant and alive than they. Two did...because they asked...and surprised me...but how many? How many who tend to her? How many visitors who happen to glance into her room bother to realize? And sometimes I want to shout down the halls, "Let me tell you who she was! Who she really is!" The thought is futile...except in terms of my own growth. I look at the others now with new eyes. The man who drools from the side of his mouth, whose glassy stare tells me his awareness is now gone...who was he? Did he fish once with a young son? Did he escort a beautiful young daughter down an aisle? Did he come home one day with a bouquet of flowers to surprise a wife? The lady who stands and writes invisible numbers on a wall...was she a teacher? Is she at her blackboard trying to explain to a group of students how to perform a mathematical operation? Did she tie shoes, and dry tears, and pull baby teeth to wrap up in a tissue for a child to take home to mom? They have a story, all of them. Every one of them has been vital and active, laughing and mobile...they all have a story. Some I can talk to and their eyes will brighten when they realize someone wants to hear. Some I cannot, and I can only imagine stories for them, appreciating that those stories indeed are there. They have been where we are, they are where many of us will be. They come to the final stages of life with a story. And somehow, if we can only learn to look past the clusters of them in all those unpleasant stages of aging, if we can only train our eyes to see beyond what appears to be there...they still have a lesson for us, a deep lesson about life and mortality, closure and aging, youth and appreciation, a lesson worthwhile to learn. Next time listen. Listen with your eyes and smell with your ears...give them time to tell you, and their families a chance to tell you, when they cannot or won't... imagine...you won't be so far off base. They lived the lives we live...and they are we and we are them. just a thought, jan Copyright ©2000JanPhilpot .________________________________________________ (Note: Afternoon Rocking messages are meant to be passed on, meant to be shared...simply share as written without alterations...and in entirety. Thanks, jan) Sunday Afternoon Rocking columns are distributed weekly on the list Sunday Rocking. This is not a "reply to" list, and normally only one message per week will come across it, that being the column. To subscribe send email to [email protected] _________________________________________________

Thanks, is it too late to ask? I am researching the names Sutherlands, Totty and Bettis. My grandfather, Berry Sutherland was born in Erin in 1879. HIs parents were John Pickney Sutherland and Sina Totty Sutherland. The mystery begins. We aren't sure if John Pickney Sutherland was born in TN., or who his parents were. The name Pickney is very South Carolina, so maybe his mother was from SC. Thanks for any help. Sincerely, Nina Cunningham

I wonder if someone might know who was the husband of the Jane Craig on the 1820 Humphreys County TN census? It shows in her household: 3 males 0-10 yrs old 1 female 0-10 yrs old 1 female 10-15 yrs old 1 female 26-44 yrs old I am assuming that Jane Craig is a widow with her children listed in her household. Can anyone help me out? Thank you for your time. Regards, Penny Wilson

Hello All you swimmers from Danville Crossing: Below is a E-mail that is self explanatory, I realize this is not Genealogy, but next to it, and most of you "Old Heads" recall Gabbie and what he did for the Genealogy in this area and help he gave everyone he could. Please read his message. He explains it all. Ira In a message dated 8/28/00 9:58:25 PM Central Daylight Time, [email protected] writes: << Hello again IRA: Boy I will have to do this more often: I got messages from 4 people wanting to know what happened to me and a Miss Sue Stewart came from about 30 miles away just to see if I was O.K. last Sunday afternoon. When my son Phillip died my wife told south bell (these Bells could never get anything right) to cancel our sons phone and they canceled ours instead so we just started using his: it is 901-584-3867 this is why a lot of people cant get me by phone. give the Danville crossing my phone # and E-mail # so they can call me if they wish as I am no longer a member but I am still on "the Lindsey web & a couple others. I thought you were going to come to Camden to get that FISH dinner I promised you? how have you and the wife been doing, I have ALL my problems under control except my Baronial asthma acts up when the weather is WET. every one liked the books we got from your Library and also the census records from Houston Co. keep in touch Gabbie ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -- At 09:31 PM 8/28/2000 EDT, you wrote: >Sue, Jasn et al: > >Later Later Later > >See below what I received today, apparently Raymond doing pretty good, sure >good to hear from him, But Gabby why did you have your telephone disconnected? > >Ira > >>

In a message dated 8/27/00 5:40:37 PM Central Daylight Time, [email protected] writes: Just to let every one that Gabbie is ok Just not on the DC list anymore Went to visit him today and he is fine Ira he said he e-mailed you this morning Sue >> Thanks Sue: I sent messages as I came to them without reading all, so have sent a number unnecessary E-mails and made telephone calls, that would not have been necessary. My ISP was down for two days and I had quite a build up and was trying to get them all off, before AOL started taking them off for me. Sorry about that and Thanks to all. Ira

Sue, Jasn et al: Later Later Later See below what I received today, apparently Raymond doing pretty good, sure good to hear from him, But Gabby why did you have your telephone disconnected? Ira In a message dated 8/27/00 10:13:20 AM Central Daylight Time, [email protected] writes: << HI IRA: Thanks for the concern! I am still KICKING just not to high:: I got off the Danville net because of all the messages that were not related to Genealogy< I just got tired of deleting all those PERSONAL Messages that did not relate to the Danville crossing or Genealogy in general. I did not want to start a fuss about them so I just unsubscribed from the Danville Crossing list. I can still be reached at [email protected] if anyone wants to send me a message, gabbie >>

----- Original Message ----- From: Pat <[email protected]> To: <[email protected]> Sent: Sunday, August 27, 2000 10:57 PM Subject: Re: [DC] Robertson Co./LUM JONES > Pat, > Here's the address to join the Robertson Co. mailing list. > [email protected] and write subscribe in subject line. Pat, Thanks a bunch! Pat ps.sorry about that last message I got too quick on the draw and pushed send instead of cut.

----- Original Message ----- From: Pat <[email protected]> To: <[email protected]> Sent: Sunday, August 27, 2000 10:57 PM Subject: Re: [DC] Robertson Co./LUM JONES > Pat, > Here's the address to join the Robertson Co. mailing list. > [email protected] and write subscribe in subject line. > > After you're subscribed, just post to the list like you do this one, > [email protected] Hopefully, someone will have that census or > recognize the names. Good Luck and If I can help you anymore, just let me > know. > Pat Mc > > ----- Original Message ----- > From: <[email protected]> > To: <[email protected]> > Sent: Sunday, August 27, 2000 9:27 PM > Subject: Re: [DC] Robertson Co./LUM JONES > > > > > > > > ----- Original Message Good Luck. > > > Pat > >

Looking for information on the William and Rowena Bayliss/Bayless family of Stewart County. They were in the 1820 census, as was a Collum Bayliss. There are some Bayless family members buried in the old Dover City cemetery. I was told the Bayless' were merchants in the town of Dover. Kimberly __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Yahoo! Mail - Free email you can access from anywhere! http://mail.yahoo.com/