Here what was in the ky Post about Kin Book Edith Column by David Wecker On one wall in Dr. Ken Tankersley's study in Highland Heights, Ky., is a sepia-tone photograph of his great-grandfather, John Wesley Byrd, white-haired, square-jawed, his family gathered around. The portrait was made some time after he lost an eye in a shotgun blast. "That occurred at a still in Fogertown, over in Clay County," Ken says. "Tubhead Cornett ran the still. They were drinking when a dispute broke out over something or other. Tubhead pulled a shotgun and would've blown my great-grandfather's head off were it not been for the quick thinking of his cousin, Doublethumb Buttry, who shoved the barrel aside so that all my great-grandfather lost was an eye." Tubhead, OK. But Doublethumb? "One of his thumbs branched off into two," Ken explains. "You had a lot of inter-marrying in that part of Kentucky in those days, especially among people with American Indian ancestry. It's a part of what led to so many stereotypes we have about Appalachian people." The incident nearly left Jane McWhorter a widow a second time. Her first husband, a mixed-blood Powhatan-Cherokee named Delaney Bowling, was beaten and shot in the chest by a band of Ku Klux Klan in the woods near Walnut Grove Church, also in Clay County. Then they shoved his head through the spokes of a wagon and drove off at a full gallop. Jane kept Delaney's bloodstained shirt in a chest and passed it along to her youngest child, Charlotte, who was born in 1908. She moved to Cincinnati, Ken says, to escape the violence of Eastern Kentucky. In 1981, when his mother was cleaning out his Grandma Charlotte's attic, Ken held the shirt in his hands one last time. He suspects his grandmother finally yielded to pressure from his mother to get rid of it. These are pieces of Ken's own history, flint chips from his personal anthropology. He is an eighth-generation Kentuckian and the first of his family to go to college, let alone do post-doctorate work. His heritage is a blend of "Scotch-Irish and Cherokee." He looks more the former with his red hair and blue eyes. But he can remember his father telling his dark-eyed sister to bleach her hair so she would look less like an American Indian. "Stereotypes die hard," Ken says. He is 47, old enough to remember sitting in front of the TV, watching Disney's romanticized version of the Davy Crockett story, where all the Indians were bad guys. He remembers, too, watching the Lone Ranger, whose Tonto was Uncle Tom in buckskin. "It wasn't until Wounded Knee, in 1973, that it was OK to be an American Indian, and acceptable to be proud of that heritage." Dr. Tankersley is an author, cancer survivor, anthropologist, research associate for the Cleveland Museum of Natural History, historian, consultant for the British Broadcasting Company and a chronic dyslexic. His newest book, "In Search of Ice Age Americans," (Gibbs Smith, $24.95) is a remarkable and highly readable collection of untold tales of the most important archeological discoveries in American history. One of that book's spinoffs is a TV production, "What   Killed the Mega Beasts?" which premiered in August on the Discovery Channel. "Mega Beasts" is his term for the huge mammals that once populated the region —  the mastadon, the mammoth, the giant sloth, to name a few. So what killed them? "I think, beyond a reasonable doubt, it was global warming," he says. "Did people have a hand in it? Absolutely. They hunted and killed. But the huge mammoths would have died out without people. There was a time when, as a child, you would have seen mammoths walking the landscape —  and 40 years later, they were gone." One chapter in particular, about Big Bone Lick in Boone County, should be required reading in every school in Northern Kentucky. He describes the significance of the ancient salt lick: "Big Bone will forever have a place in the history of science because it provided the likes of Benjamin Franklin (and) Thomas Jefferson —  evidence of the Ice Age, the giant creatures that lived during that time, and the people that hunted them." These days, he's working on three TV documentaries —  including one inspired by the book about a year in the life of a band of Stone Age people. The working title is "Monsters We Met." He's also working on three books. One, he's not allowed to discuss because of an agreement with his publishers. The other two have these working titles —  "Lakota Land" and "Kentucky Cherokee: People of the Cave." He likes tracking down stories that aren't in history books, coming across what either has been long-forgotten or was distorted long ago to suit someone's bias. His attention flits eagerly from one subject to the next —  from the Ice Age to the War against the Cherokees in the 1790s, from why Kentucky is so rich in history and so misunderstood to the French commander who brought 440 men to Big Bone Lick in 1729. For a moment, the conversation touches on Harriette Simpson Arnow's novel, "The Dollmaker," about the struggle of an Appalachian family that moves to Detroit during World War II. It was like that for Ken's dad. He tried finding work in Jackson and Clay counties after the Korean War, then moved to Cincinnati to take a job at the Ford transmission plant in Fairfax. Because of that, Ken says, it became possible for him to attend the University of Cincinnati. "I taught at Purcell High School for four years, but I couldn't really read until I was in my early 20s —  did I mention my dyslexia is chronic?" he says. He got along, he says, because he has almost a photographic memory. And because of a special education teacher at Purcell who noticed he seemed to have a problem, although he was good at hiding it. "It was because of that, essentially, that I learned to read," he says. "Once I reached that point, it opened a whole new world. That's why I write so voraciously. If I were to stop, the dyslexia would take over again. "So I can't stop. The fortunate thing is, I love what I do." Contact David Wecker at 352-2791 or via e-mail at sambets@choice.net. Publication Date: 11-09-2002   Thiss was in the cint Post  

Thanks Edith for this e-mail on Cousin Ken!! Gerri Hoskins Names Researching: Bowling, Bolling, Bolin, Hoskins, Baker, Hensley, Hacker, Marcum, Asher, Moore, Wilson, Britton, Lewis, Davidson, Saylor & more........ ----- Original Message ----- From: <BYRDBALL@aol.com> To: <KYCLAY-L@rootsweb.com> Sent: Wednesday, June 04, 2003 9:45 PM Subject: [KYCLAY] Kin Tankersley Book about my grandfather JohnByrd > > Here what was in the ky Post about Kin Book Edith > Column by David Wecker > > On one wall in Dr. Ken Tankersley's study in Highland Heights, Ky., is a > sepia-tone photograph of his great-grandfather, John Wesley Byrd, white-haired, > square-jawed, his family gathered around. The portrait was made some time after > he lost an eye in a shotgun blast. > "That occurred at a still in Fogertown, over in Clay County," Ken says. > > "Tubhead Cornett ran the still. They were drinking when a dispute broke out > over something or other. Tubhead pulled a shotgun and would've blown my > great-grandfather's head off were it not been for the quick thinking of his cousin, > Doublethumb Buttry, who shoved the barrel aside so that all my > great-grandfather lost was an eye." > > Tubhead, OK. But Doublethumb? > > "One of his thumbs branched off into two," Ken explains. > > "You had a lot of inter-marrying in that part of Kentucky in those days, > especially among people with American Indian ancestry. It's a part of what led to > so many stereotypes we have about Appalachian people." > > The incident nearly left Jane McWhorter a widow a second time. Her first > husband, a mixed-blood Powhatan-Cherokee named Delaney Bowling, was beaten and > shot in the chest by a band of Ku Klux Klan in the woods near Walnut Grove > Church, also in Clay County. Then they shoved his head through the spokes of a wagon > and drove off at a full gallop. > > Jane kept Delaney's bloodstained shirt in a chest and passed it along to her > youngest child, Charlotte, who was born in 1908. She moved to Cincinnati, Ken > says, to escape the violence of Eastern Kentucky. In 1981, when his mother was > cleaning out his Grandma Charlotte's attic, Ken held the shirt in his hands > one last time. He suspects his grandmother finally yielded to pressure from his > mother to get rid of it. > > These are pieces of Ken's own history, flint chips from his personal > anthropology. He is an eighth-generation Kentuckian and the first of his family to go > to college, let alone do post-doctorate work. His heritage is a blend of > "Scotch-Irish and Cherokee." He looks more the former with his red hair and blue > eyes. But he can remember his father telling his dark-eyed sister to bleach her > hair so she would look less like an American Indian. > > "Stereotypes die hard," Ken says. He is 47, old enough to remember sitting in > front of the TV, watching Disney's romanticized version of the Davy Crockett > story, where all the Indians were bad guys. He remembers, too, watching the > Lone Ranger, whose Tonto was Uncle Tom in buckskin. > > "It wasn't until Wounded Knee, in 1973, that it was OK to be an American > Indian, and acceptable to be proud of that heritage." > > Dr. Tankersley is an author, cancer survivor, anthropologist, research > associate for the Cleveland Museum of Natural History, historian, consultant for the > British Broadcasting Company and a chronic dyslexic. > > His newest book, "In Search of Ice Age Americans," (Gibbs Smith, $24.95) is a > remarkable and highly readable collection of untold tales of the most > important archeological discoveries in American history. One of that book's spinoffs > is a TV production, "What Killed the Mega Beasts?" which premiered in August > on the Discovery Channel. > > "Mega Beasts" is his term for the huge mammals that once populated the region > — the mastadon, the mammoth, the giant sloth, to name a few. So what killed > them? > > "I think, beyond a reasonable doubt, it was global warming," he says. > > "Did people have a hand in it? Absolutely. They hunted and killed. But the > huge mammoths would have died out without people. There was a time when, as a > child, you would have seen mammoths walking the landscape — and 40 years later, > they were gone." > > One chapter in particular, about Big Bone Lick in Boone County, should be > required reading in every school in Northern Kentucky. He describes the > significance of the ancient salt lick: > > "Big Bone will forever have a place in the history of science because it > provided the likes of Benjamin Franklin (and) Thomas Jefferson — evidence of the > Ice Age, the giant creatures that lived during that time, and the people that > hunted them." > > These days, he's working on three TV documentaries — including one inspired > by the book about a year in the life of a band of Stone Age people. The > working title is "Monsters We Met." > > He's also working on three books. One, he's not allowed to discuss because of > an agreement with his publishers. The other two have these working titles — > "Lakota Land" and "Kentucky Cherokee: People of the Cave." > > He likes tracking down stories that aren't in history books, coming across > what either has been long-forgotten or was distorted long ago to suit someone's > bias. His attention flits eagerly from one subject to the next — from the Ice > Age to the War against the Cherokees in the 1790s, from why Kentucky is so > rich in history and so misunderstood to the French commander who brought 440 men > to Big Bone Lick in 1729. > > For a moment, the conversation touches on Harriette Simpson Arnow's novel, > "The Dollmaker," about the struggle of an Appalachian family that moves to > Detroit during World War II. > > It was like that for Ken's dad. He tried finding work in Jackson and Clay > counties after the Korean War, then moved to Cincinnati to take a job at the Ford > transmission plant in Fairfax. Because of that, Ken says, it became possible > for him to attend the University of Cincinnati. > > "I taught at Purcell High School for four years, but I couldn't really read > until I was in my early 20s — did I mention my dyslexia is chronic?" he says. > > He got along, he says, because he has almost a photographic memory. And > because of a special education teacher at Purcell who noticed he seemed to have a > problem, although he was good at hiding it. > > "It was because of that, essentially, that I learned to read," he says. > > "Once I reached that point, it opened a whole new world. That's why I write > so voraciously. If I were to stop, the dyslexia would take over again. > > "So I can't stop. The fortunate thing is, I love what I do." > > Contact David Wecker at 352-2791 or via e-mail at sambets@choice.net. > > > > > > Publication Date: 11-09-2002 > Thiss was in the cint Post > >