tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85685966402973477402024-03-13T04:12:08.474-07:00Marilyn's Genealogy AdventuresThis blog is to show my family the many genealogical adventures I have had in creating the family stories I have given them over the years.Grandma Harrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10800886370127882182noreply@blogger.comBlogger27125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8568596640297347740.post-3188552186757205152012-05-21T17:20:00.001-07:002012-05-21T17:27:43.054-07:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihNVkW__McvA5w4KgZWuxnub3hskQ8J-NN28jV3uDYIhwFiHSHWWqhV7ocIPnUw1DADWYVKynfyVleSFYTdgSdsbgPg1Nxns8g_VUke9mbNSTAf3kiaBUzL2yzVda5J_doemrRoueieZdR/s1600/Jennie+Morton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihNVkW__McvA5w4KgZWuxnub3hskQ8J-NN28jV3uDYIhwFiHSHWWqhV7ocIPnUw1DADWYVKynfyVleSFYTdgSdsbgPg1Nxns8g_VUke9mbNSTAf3kiaBUzL2yzVda5J_doemrRoueieZdR/s320/Jennie+Morton.jpg" width="210" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jane Elder (Jennie) Tannahill Morton</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;"></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Old English Text MT"; font-size: 20pt; font-weight: bold; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: "Old English Text MT"; mso-default-font-family: "Old English Text MT"; mso-latin-font-family: "Old English Text MT";"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Jane Elder Tannahill and </span></span><span style="font-family: "Old English Text MT"; font-size: 20pt; font-weight: bold; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: "Old English Text MT"; mso-default-font-family: "Old English Text MT"; mso-latin-font-family: "Old English Text MT";"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Benjamin Ellis
Morton</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Old English Text MT"; font-size: 20pt; font-weight: bold; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: "Old English Text MT"; mso-default-font-family: "Old English Text MT"; mso-latin-font-family: "Old English Text MT";"></span> <span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Benjamin
Morton had returned home and upon visiting with William’s family, had fallen in
love </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">with his daughter, Jane and they were married on Dec. 7, 1865.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>After Benjamin and Jane were married they<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>lived in Iowa until 1871 when they moved to
Marshall Co., Kansas near some of his relatives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They stayed there one year then moved on to
Phillips Co., Kansas in 1872 where they located on a claim in Freedom township
about ten miles northwest of Phillipsburg.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They experienced many hardships of pioneer life as one of the first
settlers and with their growing family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A granddaughter, Icle, remembers their home on the farm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Part of the house was made of sod and an
addition of frame.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a step or
steps from the living area and the soddy sleeping part.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The one thing she remembers most was the
feeling of “warmth and hominess” in Grandma’s home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The community soon grew and was made of Union
soldiers many from Iowa volunteer companies, hence the name of Iowa Union
Community and Cemetery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are 13
Civil War soldiers buried there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Aunt
Jennie and Uncle Ben as they were affectionately called, with their neighbors
and relatives organized a Sunday School and a congregational Church which met
in the Iowa Union Schoolhouse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
church organization as such, ceased after some years but the Sunday School was
an active one for well over 50 years, with various denominations furnishing
full or part time ministers.</span></div>
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Jane Elder (Jenny) Tannahill Morton<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Obituary, “Phillips
Co. Review” July 17, 1924<o:p></o:p></h3>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> <span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> " </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Jennie
E. Tannahill was born in Huntingdon, Canada, September 18, 1826 and passed from
earthly life in Lincoln, Nebraska, July 8, 1924, aged 77 years, 9 months and 21
days. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>When
nine years of age she moved with her parents to Iowa, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>where she grew to womanhood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In December, 1865 she was _____in marriage to
Benjamin E. Morton.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The that union nine
children were born, seven of whom _____William J. of Salt Lake City, Utah; Mrs.
Belle M. Thomas of Lincoln, Nebraska; Bert B. and Roy R. of Basin, Wyoming; Jay
T. of Stockton; John O. of Goodland and Henry of Tooele, Utah.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One preceded her in death in infancy and
Alvin H. passed to the Great Beyond about seven years ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her husband was taken from this life in
March, 1890.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In the year
1872, with her family, she came to Phillips County, locating on a homestead in
the present Iowa Union neighborhood, that present Iowa Union cemetery being a
part of that homestead.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She was
very active in the religious training in the “Little Brown Community” in Which
her lot was cast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Having received her
childhood religious training in the “Little Brown Church in the Vale” which has
been immortalized in song, she sought to reproduce its ideals in the new community.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In 1875 or 1876, she became a member of the
Congregational church, organized in her community, but on its disorganization she
became a member of the Presbyterian church of Phillipsburg, where her
membership remained until the time of her death.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Her
later years were spent in the homes of her children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For many years she was with her sons in Utah,
and her last days were with her daughter in Lincoln, Nebraska.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Besides
her immediate family, she is survived by two brothers, William of Bellwood,
Nebraska, George of <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Vernon, Kansas and
one sister, Belle M. Morton of Moscow, Idaho, and many other relatives and
friends."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She has
gone from us, but the influence of her life and service remain in the life of
the church and community which she helped to organize and mold.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Funeral
services were held Saturday morning, July 12, in the Presbyterian Church of
Phillipsburg, conducted by Rev. L. A. Kerr, pastor of the church assisted by
Rev. McDonald, pastor of the Christian church of Stockton.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Interment was made in Iowa Union Cemetery. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Find A Grave Memorial ## 65330023<br />
<br />
<a hasbox="2" href="http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GSvcid=265109&GRid=65330023&"><b hasbox="2">Morton, Jane Elder "Jennie" <i hasbox="2">Tannahill</i><img border="0" height="1" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/trans.gif" width="3" /><img align="top" border="0" hasbox="2" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/icons20/flowers.gif" /><img border="0" height="1" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/trans.gif" width="3" /><img align="top" border="0" hasbox="2" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/icons20/headstone.gif" /></b></a> </div>Grandma Harrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10800886370127882182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8568596640297347740.post-28515135043298328492011-09-26T15:25:00.000-07:002011-09-26T15:25:00.098-07:00George H. Tannahill and "Stirpes"<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Young George H. Tannahill</td></tr>
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George H. Tannahill was the first of William and Janette's children to be born in Nashua, Iowa. He was born on March 21, 1857 and was only 5 yrs. old when his father died. <br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">When he was a young man he moved with his widowed mother to Phillips Co., Kansas where they homesteaded adjoining farms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Prior to this time, another family had come to New Jersey from England, looking for a place to make their permanent home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While in New Jersey, a lovely little girl was born to Fredrick Robinson and his wife, Sarah.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They named her Mary Evelyn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When she was a young girl her family moved to Springbrook, Pa. and then came on to Phillips Co., by covered wagon to settle on a homestead near George and his mother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On Oct. 5, 1881, Mary Evelyn Robinson became the bride of George Tannahill..</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%;"></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwjOJvFjAD01GV5IsqnTkbBQQVlOZlc9nn6atq59KFm9rtqq5RBbZgfB7SfvljFHG_AwFiqgWkwkR43qjFOwciCS2DFkf92QNoEJpLkBLBneoMZMlnbPwyFUblHh2L8XDHWD1LZFpS0c4A/s1600/George+H.+Wedding.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwjOJvFjAD01GV5IsqnTkbBQQVlOZlc9nn6atq59KFm9rtqq5RBbZgfB7SfvljFHG_AwFiqgWkwkR43qjFOwciCS2DFkf92QNoEJpLkBLBneoMZMlnbPwyFUblHh2L8XDHWD1LZFpS0c4A/s320/George+H.+Wedding.jpg" width="230" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">George H. Tannahill and <br />
Mary Evelyn Robinson<br />
Wedding Picture</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">The first home that George and Mary had, was called a dugout and was made in a bank of dirt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They had 2 little boys in this home, then they moved into a house and the rest of their 11 children were born there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Iva Bushman has this to say of their early years; “In early years our home in Phillips Co., was the stopping place for many a traveler.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Always they found the welcome mat out, an extra place at the dining table and sleeping quarters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I always remember the “Patent Medicine Man” and the pay for board and lodging was usually a jar of brown salve and a bottle of liniment, a cure all for aches and pains for both humans and livestock.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Besides caring for her family of almost a dozen, Mary Evelyn boarded the country schoolteachers, one Susie Rollins and Mary McKown.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The school known as the Tannahill Schoolhouse was also the place of Sunday morning worship.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Out of this hospitality a romance blossomed, for Bert Tannahill married Susie Rollins on June 10, 1908. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">George served in the Kansas State Legislature from Phillips co. for three terms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the year 1910 the family moved from their farm near Long Island, Kansas to a farm near Vernon where George and Eva resided until their deaths.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was also the year that Irma was born.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was again elected as Representative this time for Woodson Co. And served two terms. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Iva says, “Dad was a diligent worker for all projects for the good of the community, among them the Vernon Rural High School.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many a pupil received an education here, that never could have otherwise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Among them Vernon and Irma, also nine grandchildren were graduates of V.R.H.S.”<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>At one time George went to Washington to have the body of his father, William Tannahill moved from the Cemetery there, and brought to Nashua co. Cemetery near the Little Brown Church, but was informed that a body could not be removed from a national Cemetery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He went back to Iowa and had a tombstone erected for his father and markers for James Tannahill and his baby sister, Ella, who died when she was only 3 yrs. old. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Eva was a charming and gracious companion to George.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their home, overflowing with love and happiness, was noted far and wide, for it’s hospitality.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They identified themselves with the Church and were active in the various organizations of the church and raised their children in this tradition</span></div>
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Back row, L to R.:: Henry Krafft, Fred Tannahill, Fred Risker, Truman Hoppes,</div>
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John Krafft, Art Tannahill, Johnny Steele, Jutt Rhoades and Edgar Payser.</div>
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Middle row, L to R: Oscar Pyser, John Morton, Burt Tannahill, George Krafft, </div>
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Instructor Walcot, Band Leader C.A. Rhoads, George Poyser, Jim Costello and </div>
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Elwood Ellis. Front Row, L to R: Bill Grote, Frank Rhoads, Edd Rhoads, Fred Steele,</div>
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and Faragus Coons. Photo courtesy of Fort Bissell Museum as shown on the</div>
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Farmers State Bank Heritage Calendar.</div>
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<span style="language: EN;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">The Farmer Boys band was organized of neighborhood boys and numbered in the teens.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of this band, Fred played horn, Art, slide trombone and Bert was an accomplished musician on both the trumpet or cornet and also violin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many an evening was spent at home with music as our entertainment and both Nettie and Anna played piano.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Our house was a Community gathering place, playing games of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>hide and seek in the big hay barn in summer and Puss-in-the-Corner and Fruit Basket Upset in the winter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The same was true after moving to Vernon but by this time the three older boys were in homes of their own”.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%;"></span></div>
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This last week as I was googleing, I found another account of William Tannahill in a publication called "Stirpes" on the Portal to Texas Website. <a href="http://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth39868/m1/22/sizes/">http://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth39868/m1/22/sizes/</a></div>
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The article was called "The Man Who Had Three Tombstones". I had never seen this publication and maybe some of you might like to read this account. It is on pps. 20,21,22. Follow the link above to find it. </div>
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<a hasbox="2" href="http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GSvcid=174574&GRid=65772631&"><b hasbox="2">Tannahill, George H<img border="0" height="1" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/trans.gif" width="3" /><img align="top" border="0" hasbox="2" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/icons20/flowers.gif" /><img border="0" height="1" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/trans.gif" width="3" /><img align="top" border="0" hasbox="2" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/icons20/headstone.gif" /></b></a> <br />
<a hasbox="2" href="http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GSsr=41&GSvcid=174574&GRid=65772640&"><b hasbox="2">Tannahill, Mary Evelyn <i hasbox="2">Robinson</i><img border="0" height="1" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/trans.gif" width="3" /><img align="top" border="0" hasbox="2" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/icons20/flowers.gif" /><img border="0" height="1" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/trans.gif" width="3" /><img align="top" border="0" hasbox="2" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/icons20/headstone.gif" /></b></a> <br />
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</div>Grandma Harrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10800886370127882182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8568596640297347740.post-72608179508053598852011-09-14T16:49:00.000-07:002011-09-14T16:49:39.713-07:00Willard Lucien Bowlsby and Olive Lela Thayer<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN7fbwvTHQhBC2k0aa_YfyCu5m7dVZU4srDzJGypDdYZCJJqFkqos2h6lSldYVnRfVkZdzjPITt3br-YIhlEtb4ygraBv2_a_nyRCB5X822qyTU3lV8eAjnB_6HFvzldgKhwuL_swnR5bL/s1600/Willard+Bowlsby+family2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN7fbwvTHQhBC2k0aa_YfyCu5m7dVZU4srDzJGypDdYZCJJqFkqos2h6lSldYVnRfVkZdzjPITt3br-YIhlEtb4ygraBv2_a_nyRCB5X822qyTU3lV8eAjnB_6HFvzldgKhwuL_swnR5bL/s320/Willard+Bowlsby+family2.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Will Bowlsby, Cora and May <br />
and Olive Thayer Bowlsry</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Willard Lucien Bowlsby was born in Albion Township, Calhoun Co, Michigan on 27 Dec. 1857.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was the youngest son of Charles Bowlsby and Mellissa Jane Thompson.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He married Olive L. Thayer on<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>November 7, 1877 in Butler Co. Nebraska. Witnesses to the marriage were Elbridge Thayer, Olive’s father and Edward Bowlsby, Willard’s brother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This new little Bowlsby family lived on a farm near David City, Nebraska.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their first three children, Cora Melissa b.1878, a little girl with big blue eyes and dark curls,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Leroy b.1880, and Effie Lecreca b.1882, were born there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In 1884, Willard and Olive lost 2 of their younger children, Leroy and Effie, to diphtheria.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are buried in David City.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">After the death of the children, they moved to Oregon and homesteaded near Pilot Rock. After they arrived, 3 more children were born to them, May, Fayette Elenora and Lillian. Cora grew up and at 18 married Walter Reinhart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was so happy with her new home, husband and later her baby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When little Marvin was 6 mos old he got measles and died in 3 days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Cora lived only 4 months longer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Both are buried at Albee, Oregon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After Cora’s death, Olive and Will’s<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>family moved to Pendleton, Oregon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Faye and May lived to maturity and reared children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Faye married George Leaf at Pendleton, Oregon and had a daughter, Vera.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>May married Harry Updyke at 16 yrs. of age and had three children, Madge, Fleda and Bernice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bernice died at Portland, Oregon when she was 1 1/2 yrs. old.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;"></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnktrPVK6yzqV2xnoin_KjYD9ys__RpFV_-QnUgJTBFTY21xy79-oPXJh69qZ2npBrRaJtPQpV-2lmXrDTLK63O7oLJrXUgAVKteeHHUImo9fPPtioTv7wYFfM8fXu96wqtM8W0jM2_4qk/s1600/Will+and+Olive+family.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="241" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnktrPVK6yzqV2xnoin_KjYD9ys__RpFV_-QnUgJTBFTY21xy79-oPXJh69qZ2npBrRaJtPQpV-2lmXrDTLK63O7oLJrXUgAVKteeHHUImo9fPPtioTv7wYFfM8fXu96wqtM8W0jM2_4qk/s320/Will+and+Olive+family.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Picture on the right:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> <span style="font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Top:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Harry Updyke. Fay Elenora, George Washington Leaf, May (Bowlsby)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Updyke.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bottom:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Willard Lucien, Fleda Updyke, Vera Leaf. Madge Updyke, Olive Lela Thayer Bowlsby</span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; language: EN; line-height: 100%;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Elbridge Thayer, Olive’s father, died at the home of Will and Olive Bowlsby in Pendleton, Oregon in 1917.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> After his death his body was taken back to David City, Nebraska where he was buried in the David City Cemetery. It is interesting to note that</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Pvt. Elbridge Thayer served in the Union Army, Company "B", 7th Iowa Infantry. Which was the same Company that William Tannahill served in. They must have been friends.</span></span></div>
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</span></span></span></span>Grandma Harrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10800886370127882182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8568596640297347740.post-10813445384639088932011-09-05T13:09:00.000-07:002011-09-05T13:20:08.356-07:00Charles Edwin Bowlsby and Jennie May Jones<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Charles Edwin Bowlsby</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Charles Edwin Bowlsby was married to Jenny May Jones on Feb. 14, 1877, in Lincoln, Nebraska.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was the daughter of John and Abigail Jones, also of </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Lincoln. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">About 1886 or 1887, Charles Edwin and Willard Lucien and their families, and their father left for Oregon in covered wagons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a cold overcast morning when they stopped for a last farewell at sister Lillian Tannahill’s home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her oldest daughter, Amy, was 7 or 8 and remembered the families on this occasion. “Mama said I had to kiss Grandpa goodbye but I didn’t want to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had long whiskers which were a little tobacco stained.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did kiss him, however, because Mama wanted me to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Uncle Ed was there with Clarence and Daisy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember Aunt Jenny sitting in a rocker with a wee baby in her arms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then Uncle Will, the youngest boy of the family, next to my mother was there with Cora, near my age but a little older.” </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jenny May Jones</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Charles Edwin settled in Pendleton, Oregon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jenny and Ed were divorced about 1894-1895 in Pendleton.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In 1900, Jenny married again to Elmer Story, at Cle Elum, Washington.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They lived there about a year then Jenny returned to Pendleton and lived in Ed’s house until 1910 when she purchased a small home in West Pendleton where she passed away in </span><span style="language: EN;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">1900.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Jenny and Ed had 5 children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Clarence Edward, Daisy Violet, Jesse, Charles Franklin and Albert Leon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of his brothers and sisters, Bert L. Bowlsby said, </span></div>
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“In 1951 I was told by several old timers that they were<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="language: EN;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">sure Clarence and his wife went back to Missouri,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jesse passed away in Eastern Oregon State Hospital in Pendleton in 1950.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Charles passed away in April 1928 in Albany, California.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is buried in the Presidio in San Francisco.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I made an attempt to look up Daisy<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>in 1951.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I started in Myrtle Creek and down thru to Myrtle Point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every place I stopped people knew who Herb Thomas was (Daisy’s husband), but no one had seen them for a year or so, so I never did locate Daisy.</span></span></div>
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Charlie and I stuck pretty close together, we did mostly ranch work, around Pendleton.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is all dry land, wheat farming, or was in our time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I and my brother started work when we were about 15 years old practically all big teams, 8-10 horse-plowing, weeding and harrowing, then harvest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were always trying to be Champion Riders at the Round-up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We always made it to the finals but never could get in the money”.</blockquote>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Charles Edwin and Willard Lucien Bowlsby</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Charles and Bert signed up for Army Service in 1917.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were both called up in Oct. 1917 and Charles joined the Navy and Bert joined the Army. Both were discharged <span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">in<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>May 1919. </span></span><span style="language: EN;"></span></div>
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<a hasbox="2" href="http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GSvcid=174982&GRid=47591532&"><b hasbox="2">Bowlsby, Charles Edwin<img border="0" height="1" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/trans.gif" width="3" /><img align="top" border="0" hasbox="2" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/icons20/flowers.gif" /><img border="0" height="1" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/trans.gif" width="3" /><img align="top" border="0" hasbox="2" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/icons20/photo.gif" /><img border="0" height="1" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/trans.gif" width="3" /><img align="top" border="0" hasbox="2" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/icons20/headstone.gif" /></b></a> <span hasbox="2" style="color: #dcd0cf;">47591532</span><br />
<a hasbox="2" href="http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GSvcid=174982&GRid=47591490&"><b hasbox="2">Bowlsby, Jenny May <i hasbox="2">Jones</i><img border="0" height="1" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/trans.gif" width="3" /><img align="top" border="0" hasbox="2" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/icons20/flowers.gif" /><img border="0" height="1" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/trans.gif" width="3" /><img align="top" border="0" hasbox="2" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/icons20/photo.gif" /><img border="0" height="1" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/trans.gif" width="3" /><img align="top" border="0" hasbox="2" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/icons20/headstone.gif" /></b></a> </div>
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<a hasbox="2" href="http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GSvcid=174982&GRid=3521409&"><b hasbox="2">Bowlsby, Charles Franklin<img border="0" height="1" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/trans.gif" width="3" /><img align="top" border="0" hasbox="2" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/icons20/flowers.gif" /><img border="0" height="1" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/trans.gif" width="3" /><img align="top" border="0" hasbox="2" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/icons20/photo.gif" /><img border="0" height="1" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/trans.gif" width="3" /><img align="top" border="0" hasbox="2" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/icons20/headstone.gif" /></b></a> <br />
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</blockquote>Grandma Harrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10800886370127882182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8568596640297347740.post-75240342766713518812011-09-02T16:04:00.000-07:002011-09-02T16:06:43.969-07:00Do you remember?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amy Bagley and Lydia Sargent<br />
Taken abt 1945</td></tr>
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Many years ago Lydia Tannahill Sargent wrote a remembrance to Amy Bagley, her sister, about some of the things that she remembered of their childhood.<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">”.........Do you remember the three plum groves in the pasture, how we ate and ate the plums and found out we could eat still more without making us sick?.........</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">..........Do you remember - Every evening we brought the cows in from the big pasture to the corral to milk?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have a very fast moving picture in my mind of your (often) grabbing a cow by the tail as they came down the last hill into the corral.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How she would run but you hung on, if it nearly did snap your heels off!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And talking about cows!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had gone to the corral to milk one evening, and you dared me<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>to sit down on a gentleman cow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was getting cross and we were both afraid of him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was lying down and I sat!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No animal ever moved so fast as he did and around that corral he run with me on his back!!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I fell off as he neared the fence, and scooted under it!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I suppose he was as scared as I, …….and did you laugh! It scares me yet to think of it!........<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">..........How we rode the pigs when we were quite small?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The pretty curly haired white Angora goat .. that was kept tied up so she couldn't chase us?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One day he got loose and when we saw her coming we made a "bee <span style="font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">line" for the nearest tree.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You're legs were longer and you reached it first and up it<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>you went and after you, as far as I could get, but she could reach my bare feet and butted them until our Mother rescued us.....”</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgckwj73HpIaaL7riggQAIrMyn9Jd9hf6esLQbfaOjrdyYcm7EM3tAwf-Lg9ZEBzPovZV_DW1XD1m-DmruRCAMpcJK8qX9DNHl8Q5wmoBLgtM4ZXLm7nLb_j7Wqtdh11KpgCHtQmJBH_tFn/s1600/Two+little+girls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgckwj73HpIaaL7riggQAIrMyn9Jd9hf6esLQbfaOjrdyYcm7EM3tAwf-Lg9ZEBzPovZV_DW1XD1m-DmruRCAMpcJK8qX9DNHl8Q5wmoBLgtM4ZXLm7nLb_j7Wqtdh11KpgCHtQmJBH_tFn/s200/Two+little+girls.jpg" width="141" xaa="true" /></a><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> <span style="font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">.........The poor old Ewe we took a dislike to - we waited until dusk and doused her in a pail of water. (I am still ashamed of this!)..........</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; language: EN; line-height: 100%;"></span></span><span style="language: EN;"> </span></span><span style="language: EN;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">A cousin of mine still remembers visiting with us and going after the cows with my </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">brother Glen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She remebers the playhouse that we had in the trees, with the "real framed picture" in it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was very impressed as she had never before seen a playhouse with a picture in it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">......Do you remember - Our first doll, Rosie, a rag doll?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I recall the day we "gave her up" - a sad day, but Lucy and Ella soon took her place in our affections.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our charm strings were an early interest in our childhood. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Remember the tree we climbed like squirrels?"........... </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">......Do you remember the cart the folks got for us to ride to school in?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>while playing at the barn one day we put the shafts up on a high stack, got into the seat and of course, it turned over backward, bumped our heads and doubled us up like jack knives..........”.</span></div>
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Grandma Harrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10800886370127882182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8568596640297347740.post-46209152425239350622011-08-20T13:41:00.000-07:002011-08-31T16:55:36.528-07:00Little family on the prairie<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Lillian and Will's 1st home was a dugout on this timberclaim in Bellwood, Neb.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Amy and Lydia were born there and two years later they built a frame house and moved into it. This is Amy's memory of the dugout.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Three children were born to this union, Amy Arvilla, Lydia Luella and Glen Ray. William and Lillian worked hard and loved their family. The children felt this and enjoyed their childhood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span> </div>
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I<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">n the year 1879, on October 19, just in the midst of "Indian Summer, I was born<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>in small dugout on my father's timber claim.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was up on the "table land" as it was then called.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This timber claim was in Butler Co., Nebraska.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My sister was born in the same dugout, 15 mos. later.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Long after, my parents told me that I could not remember the dugout, but I told them where the stove was in the middle of the room, the yellow clay floor and walls, the little room, where the bed set, and my trundle bed that went under that larger bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I even remembered my mother staying in that bed when my sister was born, although I was only 15 mos. old.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I told them where the one window </span><span style="language: EN;"></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lydia and Amy Tannahill</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">was, with a wooden wash bench and always a pail of water and a wash basin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remembered very vividly the "thousand legged worms" that now and then invaded the place. They seemed to come suddenly from nowhere, and left just as suddenly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have never seen these worms since, but still remember them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And when I<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>told my parents these things they were convinced that I remembered the dugout.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="language: EN;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Amy continues,"How I loved it when, with my sister and I,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>our<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>mother would go out in the pasture and gather up<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"buffalo chips" to burn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The buffalo trails were deep, narrow paths, going on and on<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>over the prairie, which was then rapidly being fenced into farms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>land was the old Indian campgrounds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I never remembered the Indians coming to our doors, but used to hear others telling of these things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While we were very young, the Indian stories and the howling of the coyotes made it very easy to keep us in the house after dark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes the Indians would come and want to trade things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember a beautiful little Indian purse that I wanted so much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I told my father and he went to the Indians and traded something and that night brought me home my little purse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have kept that all my life</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixVEpBy_vBPtthptropSk4MvxRsyU0XvMyLLW3FQzWK6BrbYj6_TWTaOdskSTHnFLE-oVU3a5o_JLpjB7wkSONU5RYR3_6y9LIxKWAv2ylbuPESLhPI-LLPPaf-2P5XDb6e2Q4FCW-5y4M/s1600/First+frame+house.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixVEpBy_vBPtthptropSk4MvxRsyU0XvMyLLW3FQzWK6BrbYj6_TWTaOdskSTHnFLE-oVU3a5o_JLpjB7wkSONU5RYR3_6y9LIxKWAv2ylbuPESLhPI-LLPPaf-2P5XDb6e2Q4FCW-5y4M/s400/First+frame+house.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
In 1881 they moved from the dugout into a little frame house that Will had built for his family.<br />
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Here is a picture of that little house a few years later. There is Lillian (Bowlsby) Tannahill and the little boy is her grandson, Marvin Ray with the dog named Spot. Little Ray is Glen's son.<br />
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Grandma Harrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10800886370127882182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8568596640297347740.post-83119912760083824692011-08-13T13:00:00.000-07:002011-08-13T13:00:01.868-07:00Lillian Rosalee Bowlsby marries William Tannahill<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9iqoWGfI77CKeXNyQLnWZDkforaaA-U8FuEAoCwnSsELWzav2VAVD6js-BYfzZtF_BFF2uCmw7Tq1yB4Lz32yLw4CBxqxPxR-fvmRe9FLy3DdutPWptK5AJ68-z4oKi_cAFoapX9pYUZB/s1600/Mary+Louisa+Bowlsby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" naa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9iqoWGfI77CKeXNyQLnWZDkforaaA-U8FuEAoCwnSsELWzav2VAVD6js-BYfzZtF_BFF2uCmw7Tq1yB4Lz32yLw4CBxqxPxR-fvmRe9FLy3DdutPWptK5AJ68-z4oKi_cAFoapX9pYUZB/s200/Mary+Louisa+Bowlsby.jpg" width="147" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mary Louisa Bowlsby Hall</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Shortly after Josephine’s marriage, Mary Louisa married Isaac Hall, also in 1870. They had three children, Mary Mellissa, Ada Mable and Mervin Eugene.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> <span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">It was with Louisa Hall that Lillian (her sister) went to live.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was 18 yrs. old. She came in a covered wagon with them when they went to Nebraska. <span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">She stayed with them until she married William Tannahill. <span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">William Tannahill was the brother of John Tannahill who had married her older sister, Juliette Josephine, 9 years before. </span></span><span style="language: EN;"> </span></span><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjslhCTMvvWyssGItEPU5FQJQ1Or1LVVv_-di46pmIaRuFdxe9FC2uC88uaX-eOTx_e2s7ylhKYkz9LgkM-9YSu1j5vGaS4zcqPAUBdHfMUM7QKQkGsmLjjo3lsAXSJEnki9s_UxNX8TABh/s1600/Lillain+Bowlsby+tintype.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" naa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjslhCTMvvWyssGItEPU5FQJQ1Or1LVVv_-di46pmIaRuFdxe9FC2uC88uaX-eOTx_e2s7ylhKYkz9LgkM-9YSu1j5vGaS4zcqPAUBdHfMUM7QKQkGsmLjjo3lsAXSJEnki9s_UxNX8TABh/s200/Lillain+Bowlsby+tintype.jpg" width="124" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lillian Rosalee Bowlsby</td></tr>
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<span style="language: EN;">Here is a picture of Lillian Rosalee Bowlsby when she lived with her sister, Louisa. </span></div>
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<span style="language: EN;"> <span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Young Will Tannahill was 6 years old when the family moved to Iowa. William stayed in Canada with his grandparents, John and Jane Elder White.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is listed as living in their household in the Census of Huntingdon in 1861.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was 12 years old when his father died and when Janette applied for a Widow's Pension she lists William as "living in Canada".<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is no record of when he came to Iowa or if he ever did live there, but he must have come to visit his brother, John Tannahill and wife, Juliette Josephine (Bowlsby) in Nebraska because on the 31 Dec. 1878 (as recorded in the Book of Marriages, pg. 63, Butler Co., Nebraska), William Tannahill married Lillian. </span><span style="language: EN;"></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Her brother, Charles Edwin and his wife, Jennie were witnesses to the wedding along with Mary Louisa and Isaac Hall.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnoiW2_mlFHGqmBmypzFt9SU6tiJWYF3vv8e1D9oG1AFUYWWR8ZHblRmBA4rl4FdOTdq0ulUB5GT73NyGVi1DrIt9AL5y3oV2vpzv_kGb8qaNmOg_YW6O-V9VHvR3-BqTNhYAUPETZ9ZHi/s1600/Young+Will+Tannahill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" naa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnoiW2_mlFHGqmBmypzFt9SU6tiJWYF3vv8e1D9oG1AFUYWWR8ZHblRmBA4rl4FdOTdq0ulUB5GT73NyGVi1DrIt9AL5y3oV2vpzv_kGb8qaNmOg_YW6O-V9VHvR3-BqTNhYAUPETZ9ZHi/s200/Young+Will+Tannahill.jpg" width="123" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Will Tannahill</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgflf0dB-GH5n0AzY6CrsYCrDSeZm_XHJfAwrD9G7X-1TYHkYnI-vm7Y0dAv3Jq_NSSLJqIdnVn_ka0tYFndK_CWKayl7yYqdEv_TAM3WpFKeHWhGOEyZexnZbhSJp6FYWyLY6_N7mKH_pm/s1600/Marraige+Certificate+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="303" naa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgflf0dB-GH5n0AzY6CrsYCrDSeZm_XHJfAwrD9G7X-1TYHkYnI-vm7Y0dAv3Jq_NSSLJqIdnVn_ka0tYFndK_CWKayl7yYqdEv_TAM3WpFKeHWhGOEyZexnZbhSJp6FYWyLY6_N7mKH_pm/s400/Marraige+Certificate+copy.jpg" width="400" /></a><span style="language: EN;"> </span></div>
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Grandma Harrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10800886370127882182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8568596640297347740.post-54238920972496380702011-08-10T19:33:00.000-07:002011-08-10T19:53:13.638-07:00Juliette Josephine Bowlsby marries John Tannahill<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFy1yWXs7KKwsJ3lcHVBU_83fGsLDLaTppv4be0cgz8yP2h_rGGR-URfpyAjz0LEMEpaHKo9Gerfii9BoB136JTz_gN4zrsMYBJ-BSXogWp_SYXdrf9Cx1Ahos5idpiPeBNOtRg1FeQbwm/s1600/John+and+Juliette.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" naa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFy1yWXs7KKwsJ3lcHVBU_83fGsLDLaTppv4be0cgz8yP2h_rGGR-URfpyAjz0LEMEpaHKo9Gerfii9BoB136JTz_gN4zrsMYBJ-BSXogWp_SYXdrf9Cx1Ahos5idpiPeBNOtRg1FeQbwm/s320/John+and+Juliette.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Juliette Josephine married John Tannahill on Jan. 8, 1870 and went to live on a homestead in Butler, Nebraska.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Immediately after the wedding the happy couple started for Nebraska and the home that John had prepared for them.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In the “History of Nebraska—Platte Co.,- Columbus” it has this to say about John. “He was a gardener, in present business in 1875.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He makes the seed business a specialty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mr. T. is a member of the American Legion of Honor, also of the G.A.R. Baker Post #9, and is at present the Post Commander of same.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>John had a huge garden and orchard of small fruits and vegetables and whatever fruit was in season, and they sold to the stores and private homes uptown and were always back home for dinner with all sold. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>John and Josephine had 3 girls while in Nebraska, Lillian Annabell, b. Aug. 21, 1871, Jennie Melissa, b. June 20, 1874 and Minnie Louise, b. July 13, 1879.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All was well until July of 1882 when Josephine was drowned when she fell into a well that had been left uncovered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Little Minnie was only 3 yrs. old.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%;"></span></div>
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<span style="language: EN;">Picture on right: John Tannahill, Jennifer Melissa, Lillian Annabelle, Minnie Louisa on John's knee. This is the little family that was left when Juliette was drowned.</span><br />
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Juliette's death notice:<br />
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<i>The Columbus Democrat</i>, July 29, 1882</div>
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TANNAHILL--Bad news, it is said, travels rapidly, and such was the case on Friday morning when the heartrending intelligence that Mrs. John Tannahill had been drowned during the night was spread through our city. Some time after midnight Mr. Tannahill was up, and his wife was then sleeping soundly. He returned to his bed, and on waking Friday morning his wife was absent from his side. He went down stairs and not seeing her he instituted search, going into the kitchen he discovered that the trap door of the cistern was out of its place, and looking down into it he was horrified to see the lifeless body of Mrs. Tannahill. He at once called together his neighbors, and the coroner was notified, an inquest was held, and the jury returned a verdict that she came to her death by drowning, and no one is to blame according to the evidence. The community extend to Mr. Tannahill heart-felt sympathy in his peculiarly sad bereavement. The loss of a loving wife is a terrible blow and the husbands grief is recognized in its fullest sense. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6m2wsZ-IugALL_ye5iRWafbh_7uwyPNnQivo6qSNmMKUTwY3-hepNE5_BDo4MTWO7GeDIsXpwUTJpzR2T62u8nFSEBHPkpBHswrpOnFYYHSSP60V5SSxRroU_janbeYXor0H6_izG-XYj/s1600/Juliette+Josephine+Bowlsby+Tombstone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" naa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6m2wsZ-IugALL_ye5iRWafbh_7uwyPNnQivo6qSNmMKUTwY3-hepNE5_BDo4MTWO7GeDIsXpwUTJpzR2T62u8nFSEBHPkpBHswrpOnFYYHSSP60V5SSxRroU_janbeYXor0H6_izG-XYj/s320/Juliette+Josephine+Bowlsby+Tombstone.jpg" width="228" /></a></div>
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Find A Grave Memorial# 20253794<br />
<a hasbox="2" href="http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GSsr=41&GSvcid=174574&GRid=20253794&"><b hasbox="2">Tannahill, Juliette Josephine <i hasbox="2">Bowlsby</i><img border="0" hasbox="2" height="1" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/trans.gif" width="3" /><img align="top" border="0" hasbox="2" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/icons20/headstone.gif" /></b></a> </div>
Grandma Harrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10800886370127882182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8568596640297347740.post-35680327560396222702011-08-05T19:10:00.000-07:002011-08-05T19:10:12.200-07:00What's in a name.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My grandmother, Lillian Bowlsby Tannahill, always said that her mother's name was Melissa Jane Thompson. but we never saw anything that could prove it. As I started to search the census'. this is what I found. In the 1850 Census for Butler County, Michigan I found this:</div>
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Here she is listed as Lucy. Then in the 1860 Census I found this:</div>
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Here she is listed as Melissa J. Then in the 1870 Census I found this:</div>
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Here she is listed as Jane. So here was my conclusion, Melissa Jane Thompson was the right name. I learned that you cannot only take one Census record. You must check all of them because it seems like names change over the years.</div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">She had Bowlsby relatives who lived nearby and would get together often with them. They also had Uncle Oscar Thompson who was Melissa Jane’s brother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the picture on the right, seated in the front is Uncle Oscar,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lydia Luella is next to him. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Lillian is in the back. Irene and Glen Ray Tannahill complete the back row. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%;"></span></div>
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<br /></div>Grandma Harrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10800886370127882182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8568596640297347740.post-74021577448328823892011-07-24T11:43:00.000-07:002011-07-24T12:01:51.573-07:00James and the Railroad<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Several years ago, my cousin, Marcia Loomis, found some notes that her father, James West Wilson, Jr., had in his effects. He was one of three deaf boys who were the sons of James West Wilson. When one of them had asked about what happened when he left Iowa, this is what he wrote: <br />
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He left home in Traer, Iowa in 1872 at the age of 22 and went to work for the Northern Pacific Railroad for three years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While working for the railroad he was paid a wage of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>$1.50 per day for one year; then $2.00 a day and then $4.00 a day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He paid $4.50 a week for board and slept in a bunkhouse with hay as a mattress.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He often went to the tramp jungle (Railroad tramps who rode the rails).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the tramp jungle, each tramp had his turn getting food for his fellow tramps, no matter where or how.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many had to beg for food but the food was shared with all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When it became James turn, he went to a restaurant and had a good breakfast of ham and eggs; then asked the waitress for the leftover garbage from the other tables to take over to the fellows at the tramp jungle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The other fellows were amazed at how he could have gotten such good food, but he never told them how he did it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The other railroad workers would blow their pay in bars while he saved and saved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He never told anyone he was saving; otherwise he would have been robbed or killed.<span style="language: EN;">When he finally saved $1000, he moved to Missoula, Montana and started a business selling agricultural implements, wagons, plows, all kinds of machines, etc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This he did for 15 years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In 1887 he invested in real estate, houses for rentals and lots.</span><br />
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<span style="color: black; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA;">At the age of 42, James met a lovely young woman, Josephine Grant Prescott.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was only 22 but they fell in love and were married.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When James was asked why he hadn’t married before that he said he hadn’t met anyone he wanted to marry. until then.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 14pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA;"><a hasbox="2" href="http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GSvcid=174590&GRid=50061175&"><b hasbox="2"><span style="font-size: small;">Wilson, James West<img border="0" height="1" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/trans.gif" width="3" /><img align="top" border="0" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/icons20/flowers.gif" /><img border="0" height="1" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/trans.gif" width="3" /><img align="top" border="0" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/icons20/headstone.gif" /></span></b></a><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: 14pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="minus1" hasbox="2">b. Aug. 24, 1849 d. Nov. 16, 1930</span> </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 14pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA;"><a hasbox="2" href="http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GSvcid=174590&GRid=60586718&"><b hasbox="2"><span style="font-size: small;">Wilson, Josephine Grant <i hasbox="2">Prescott</i><img border="0" height="1" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/trans.gif" width="3" /><img align="top" border="0" hasbox="2" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/icons20/headstone.gif" /></span></b></a><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: 14pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="minus1" hasbox="2">b. Aug. 9, 1868 d. Mar. 27, 1910</span> </span></span></div>
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<br /></div>Grandma Harrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10800886370127882182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8568596640297347740.post-30107367693603955212011-07-17T16:42:00.000-07:002011-07-17T16:43:12.559-07:00Young James West Wilson<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">James West Wilson was born in new London, Connecticut, soon after his parents arrived in this country from Scotland.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By the time he was 7 yrs. old his father had made the decision to settle in Iowa and in 1856 the family came to Iowa by wagon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a hard journey but for a 7 yr old boy it was quite an adventure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Within the next few years many of his Aunts and Uncles and Cousins had made the journey from Scotland to Iowa. West Wilson’s farm was in the center of the Scottish settlement at the intersection of well traveled main roads, in plain view of Tranquillity church.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The children knew the teams of everyone around and could keep track of the comings and goings of relatives and neighbors.</span><br />
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<span style="language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">The children learned to herd cattle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was their job to keep the cattle away from unfenced crops.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Without doubt, all the children of that day had their turn at this wearisome, <span style="language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">never ending task.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While the cattle contentedly grazed, the children whiled away the long hours picking the friendly Johnny-jump-ups, wild crab apple blossoms, yellow buttercups, and red lilies; curling the <span style="language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">dandelion stems; gathering gum from the rosin weed; and making daisy chains.</span><span style="language: EN;"></span></span><span style="language: EN;"></span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Home in Iowa where James grew up.</td></tr>
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<span style="language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">They marked the nests of the quail, prairie chickens, and wild turkeys; played with young rabbits; watched ground squirrels, even crows and hawks; listened to the whistling notes of the meadow lark and the bobolink; found a chipmunk, sometimes a muskrat, or a beaver near the creek; avoided the skunks – and with it all kept their eyes on the cows.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>James’ brother, Henry Lusk, tells this story, “In the early days, men all told snake stories.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the age of the narrator increased, likewise did the size of the snakes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A herder of twelve years, I never saw a snake that would measure seven feet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My sister, Janet killed one seven <span style="language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">feet long but I did not see it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She killed it with a gum weed, no sticks on the prairie.”</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGNH8zEG6nsatlPZ5v3-vwSmFKaxE0-s1gXL0uVqi3Ue0zu_xkORKoCw2-i1h2WXkn5WFlViPSntg3BlBWYl2cBvkmwG2n6uVh9tXzwIATpH2gahS_6_rR-7wRdwhT9HYkQCiyXEjgtXd0/s1600/Wolves.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="296" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGNH8zEG6nsatlPZ5v3-vwSmFKaxE0-s1gXL0uVqi3Ue0zu_xkORKoCw2-i1h2WXkn5WFlViPSntg3BlBWYl2cBvkmwG2n6uVh9tXzwIATpH2gahS_6_rR-7wRdwhT9HYkQCiyXEjgtXd0/s320/Wolves.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: 14pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-size: small;">The young herders had many wolf stories.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most of them were about the first severe winters the North Tama settlers spent in Iowa, when the wolves were desperate for food because of the deep snow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They gathered in large droves, howled constantly, prowled around the buildings so that it was unsafe to step outside a cabin door after dark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One settler, looking out over a howling pack, seized a rifle, raised a window enough to take aim and shot a wolf, thinking it would frighten the others away; but the rest of the wolves, wild at the scent of blood, fell upon the carcass in a frenzy “and literally rent it to pieces, devouring everything but the tail and skull.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then another wolf was shot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This slaughter continued until the appetites of the wolves were appeased and the survivors retreated to their dens.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In about a week the pack would be back for another feast and the shooting was repeated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This kept up until the snow disappeared.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-size: small;">When James was 11 yrs. old, his mother, Margaret Drynan Wilson died, leaving nine children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His older sister, Janet, was only 14 yrs. old, next were twin sisters, Margaret and Jane, who were 12 yrs. old, then James West,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Agnes, 8 yrs. old, Catherine, 6 yrs. old, William Drynan, 4 yrs. old, Henry Lusk, 2 yrs. old and the baby, Grace who had been born 2 months before their mother died.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Grace only lived three years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was during this time that<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>their Aunt Margaret would come over to watch over the children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many times, during the winter months, she would have the children stay in bed to keep warm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After the death of baby Grace, West began to write back to Scotland to a girl he had known years before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It wasn’t long before they decided to get married and Barbara</span> <span style="font-size: small;">Kennedy boarded the ship</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <span style="font-size: small;">bound for America. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Sources for this story: <em>"They Came to North Tama"</em> by Murray and <em>"My Pioneer Wilson Story"</em> by Dalton K. Wilson</span></span></div>Grandma Harrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10800886370127882182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8568596640297347740.post-85554548416140475912011-07-10T13:38:00.000-07:002011-07-10T13:38:09.734-07:00A Sunday at Tranquility Church<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Our Scottish ancestors settled all around Tranquility Church which was southwest and west of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Buckingham Village.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The old church sits there to the east of Squire Wilson’s farm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To me it seemed as if it had been there all the time, but it wasn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was built in 1874. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My folks and all my uncles and aunts that were then in the country at that time all went to Tranquility Church.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were all God worshipping and Sabbath observing people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They all had the incentive of wanting to be better and do better for themselves as well as for the community.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I might also say that if there is any good left in any of the rest of us, we would be doing well if we just give the credit to those Scotch Pioneer Presbyterians.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">You have heard some people say that one person is just as good as another, but you can get up on a Sunday morning and you'll see people going to or coming from church, and you'll see people taking other ways of what they consider proper observance of the day, and you will see people not taking any observance of anything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I you would then hear some one say that one person is just as good as another, you would be inclined to think they were pretty much wrong about that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA;">On the general face of things we can see that there are lots of people that are lots better than a lot of others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The incentive of some people to try to be better and try to do things better than others, is what makes our progress.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If there are those that have that incentive more than we have, while they go ahead trying to do better and make things better for themselves, they are also making things better for<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>us too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">It was common occurrence that after church was out some or other of those Uncles and Aunts would stop off at our house for dinner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Those little visits were intensely enjoyable to those people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes someone would have just received a letter from Scotland, or maybe a Scotch paper had been sent to someone, telling of some special neighborhood news.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By the time those things in the paper and letter had been discussed, the afternoon would be well worn away and it would be time to start for home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The good-byes and the come agains would be said and they would start off on their homeward journey, but the best part of it all was that a kindly spirit of good feeling for each other prevailed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They didn't have much of the worldly goods in those days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Such as they had was obtained by common hard work, honest and charitable dealing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could illustrate honest and charitable dealings by telling a story.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I heard Father tell this story once.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He told it as a joke.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It might also explain in a way how it come that there didn't any of this pioneer family ever become very rich.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Source: Dalton K. Wilson, <em>My Story of the Pioneer Wilson Family</em></span></div>
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<br /></div>Grandma Harrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10800886370127882182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8568596640297347740.post-22358438017894521802011-06-29T14:56:00.000-07:002011-06-29T14:56:36.486-07:00Back in Ayrshire, Scotland<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Back in Scotland, Jane Lusk Wilson died at Pinmore in 1861 at the age of seventy-two, and James Wilson died at the same place in 1866 at the age of eighty-four. Both died at Pinmore and are buried in the 300 yr. old cemetery in Colmonell, Scotland</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">In 1997 we went to visit this little churchyard in Colmonell. It was a beautiful, quaint little church that the people there were still using today. That's me with my hand on the Wilson monument.</span></span></div>
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<span style="language: EN;"> Here Kathy and I are standing beside the Wilson Monument. It was interesting to us to see that the monuments went clear up to the church building. It was as if the church was put right in the middle of the cemetery. It was a good feeling to be there and be among all of my family who were buried there. I told my grandchildren later that I would have felt comfortable spending the night with all of my loved ones around me. They of course thought that was a little crazy.</span></div>Grandma Harrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10800886370127882182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8568596640297347740.post-13644155088557594672011-06-23T12:27:00.000-07:002011-06-23T12:40:48.954-07:00Margaret Drynan Wilson dies.<br />
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA;">West Wilson lived along through the usual deprivations and hardships of the early settler, and in the winter of 1860 his wife (Margaret Drynan) was taken sick and died.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a mild day in March.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Incidentally the door was standing open.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His wife had just died, and a rooster, just like it wanted to add it's insult to his grief, stepped across the threshold of the open door, and crowed right into the house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I was told, that was the last crowing Mr. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Rooster did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>West went out and killed it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could venture a <span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">guess that in driving the rooster away from the door, he was a little rough about it and swung a club at it, which in my way of thinking was both proper and excusable, under the circumstances.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Years went by and West made arrangements to set up a monument for Margaret, but in the lapse of time and the obliteration of grave marks and topography, there was some uncertainty between two graves as to which was his wife's.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He felt he would be able to identify the remains.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His wife's hair had been cut in her sickness, but on opening the grave, it revealed that the hair had continued to grow for a time after death.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But in the shape of the skull, and what was left of a homemade black walnut coffin that was made by Geo. Sloss, and other identifications that he knew of, he was convinced it was his wife's grave and the monument<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>was erected there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is a tall stone and has stood there like a <span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA;">sentinel for over seventy years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After three years, West married again, to Barbara </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Kennedy, and had four more children, Sara, John West, Christina Barbara, and Dalton Kennedy Wilson.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>West lived on to the age of eighty-six, and is buried by the monument he erected in Crystal Cemetery. (Fom Pioneer Wilson Story)</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">When James West Wilson was 11 yrs. old, his mother, Margaret Drynan Wilson died, leaving nine children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His older sister, Janet, was only 14 yrs. old, next were twin sisters, Margaret and Jane, who were 12 yrs. old, then James West,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Agnes, 8 yrs. old, Catherine, 6 yrs. old, William Drynan, 4 yrs. old, Henry Lusk, 2 yrs. old and the baby, Grace who had been born 2 months before their mother died.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Grace only lived three years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was during this time that<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>their Aunt Margaret would come over to watch over the children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many times, during the winter months, she would have the children stay in bed to keep warm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> (From James West Wilson Story)</span></span><br />
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Source: Pioneer Wilson Family by D.K. Wilson<br />
Find a Grave Memorial Memorial# 50059727<br />
<a hasbox="2" href="http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GSvcid=174590&GRid=50059727&"><b hasbox="2">Wilson, Margaret <i hasbox="2">Drynan</i><img border="0" hasbox="2" height="1" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/trans.gif" width="3" /><img align="top" border="0" hasbox="2" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/icons20/flowers.gif" /><img border="0" hasbox="2" height="1" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/trans.gif" width="3" /><img align="top" border="0" hasbox="2" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/icons20/headstone.gif" /></b></a> </div>Grandma Harrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10800886370127882182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8568596640297347740.post-70705329590060695002011-06-19T13:22:00.000-07:002011-06-23T12:03:00.433-07:00Trials of getting settled<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">West had built his house and for a barn he plowed the prairie and lifted the sod and built sod walls. He then laid poles across the top of the walls, put brush crossways on the poles and with his scythe, cut the prairie grass and put it on top of the brush for a roof.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He brought his gun over with him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Game was plentiful here, but one day in coming back from hunting, he laid the gun down saying, "There's no sport in it, there's no game keepers", and strange to say, he never cared much for hunting afterwards.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">As soon as West had entered land in North Tama, his large family of married brothers and sisters, other relatives, many friends, some already in Canada, all began arriving<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>on Big Creek – even before West had gotten his own family moved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They continued to arrive for the next ten years;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>so many it was like a Scottish clan moving into North Tama.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They settled, for the most part, southwest and west of Buckingham village, around Tranquillity Church.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In a letter dated Aug. 5, 1856, West's brother in law, John Galt, wrote home to the family still in Scotland with this information:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Dear Father,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">We all took the Express train from Chicago to Iowa <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>City....We expected to meet West Wilson in Iowa City but he did not get our letter till the day we arrived at his <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We hired three wagons and six horses to take us from Iowa City to Buckingham which cost Gilbert and me 100 dollars.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a very tiresome journey coming in the wagons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were very much fatigued.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had to sleep in and below the wagons and some nights there was temendous thunder and lightning and rain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were ten days coming from New York here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The sea journey is nothing compared to the land journey.....West had not his house up when we arrived and I gave him a hand to get it up and shingled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We stopped with John Wilson till we finished West's house <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>and then we stopped a week with him (the first night., thirty-two slept<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>there in the house and yard.”</span><br />
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Source: "They Came to North Tama" by Murray</div>
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<br /></div>Grandma Harrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10800886370127882182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8568596640297347740.post-53375385204819576432011-06-15T14:38:00.000-07:002011-06-15T14:42:19.784-07:00Traveling to America<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">On the ships that crossed the oceans, coming to this country, people were stacked in bunks, with no privacy of any kind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People had to bring enough food to last for the voyage or go without. After West had left, his brother, John Wilson, who had married Jean McCosh in Scotland, </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">decided there was not room on a small rented farm for his ever- increasing family and made plans to join his brother in America.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the only available sailboat, at that time, the Carolyn, John stored barrels of oatmeal and soup ingredients, and during the seemingly endless six weeks’ journey did most of the cooking on the community stove.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His wife was sick the entire voyage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He got up at 4 o’clock every morning to make the porridge, so many were wanting the stove later on; then he got the soup kettle ready to put on as soon as the others finished breakfast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His daughter, Jean, was 11 yrs. old and was nursemaid for the little ones, Agnes, just a toddler, was nearly swept off the deck by a huge wave; Jean just managed to save her as she was slipping under the flimsy railing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A burial at sea made a lasting impression on little Jean.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She always remembered the white-wrapped figure sliding into the water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This same boat brought many of the Tama county friends and relatives to America, but finally went to the bottom on another voyage.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">West had arrived at Norwich, New London, Connecticut in 1846, rented some land, raised and sold vegetables; bought some cows and sold milk; got control of a sawmill and sawed lumber.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Norwich was an outlet for all kinds of products.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everyone was enthusiastic over a dollar per bushel for peas picked before the Fourth of July, and the Wilson’s prospered during the years in Connecticut. <span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">After reading the enthusiastic letters of his friend John Connell, he decided to follow his friend to North Tama.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He came with his brother, John and George Sloss.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first night they put up with the Connell’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>West entered a section in Crystal Township, the beginning of the Tranquility church neighborhood some four miles southwest of Old Buckingham.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>John and George both entered land and they went back to get their families. settled up their affairs, and then came back again in 1856 to stay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>Grandma Harrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10800886370127882182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8568596640297347740.post-54895759669161664092011-06-10T13:44:00.000-07:002011-06-10T13:44:02.895-07:00West Wilson liked to poach!<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">In Scotland the farming class was mostly on rented land.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Law and gamekeepers protected the game of the country.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The farmers and renters didn't take kindly to these game laws and gamekeepers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They considered them unfair laws mostly for the benefit of the sporting rich, and they would shoot this game when they thought they could do so without getting caught at it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This kind of shooting was called "poaching".<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>West Wilson liked to poach.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And so did a lot of the other young fellows in the country like to poach.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They considered it great sport to slip on to some of those estates, shoot game, get the game keepers after them, and then make their get away, and while in some cases the game keepers thought they knew who the poachers </span><span style="language: EN;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">were, the law required that they would have to be caught on the premises with the evidence at hand, otherwise they couldn't be arrested and fined.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span><span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA;">In 1846, West had made his arrangements to come to America, and on the night before the day he was to sail, there was some kind of a celebration taking place in their neighborhood, and to add cheer and light to the occasion they had a bonfire going.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">There had also been a new game keeper appointed in their district, and he was going around in the crowd making boasts and threats how he was going to catch these poachers and what he would do to them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These boasts and threats were more or less directed at West and got him riled up, and being a powerful man he grabbed hold of the gamekeeper and threw him into the bonfire.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It didn't do the game keeper much damage only that it singed off his whiskers, but that was a more serious offense than poaching and could call for arrest and punishment, but before they got around to make up their minds what to do about it (if anything) West had sailed for America. And that was the way he said good-bye to Scotland.</span></span></span></div>
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The stories of these early years has been taken from two sources. One was a little book entitled "They Came to North Tama" by Janette Stephenson Murray, written in 1953 and printed by The Traer Star-Clipper, Trear, Iowa and Hodson Printing Comapany, of Hudson, Iowa. I got my copy in 1956 with a note that said, "After yours, there will be just five copies of the book left for sale. We get an order every month or so on the average, sometimes more--in fact we sold two others within the last wee. So they'll soon be collector's items. It's too bad she did not have more printed, but of course ther was no way of knowing how popular they would be. Af first it looked like she had perhaps 100 too many!</div>
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The other source was from an unprinted manuscript written by Dalton Kennedy Wilson, who was the son of West Wilson and his second wife, Barbara Kennedy. This manuscript was entitled "My Story of the Pioneer Wilson Family". This story was included with the 75th Reunion Edition of the "Wilson Family History" printed and distributed by the Wilson Family Organization, Randolph W. Lyon, Pres. 1995</div>
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<br /></div>Grandma Harrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10800886370127882182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8568596640297347740.post-61834279416912362162011-06-04T12:53:00.000-07:002011-06-04T12:53:31.391-07:00Ayrshire, Scotland - Top to Bottom<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
The Tannahill's came from Old Comnoch at the top of Ayrshire but not too far away at the bottom of Ayrshire in the lowlands, was a farm called Pinmore near Girvan. It was on this farm that the tenants were James Wilson and Jane Lusk. James was the son of John Wilson and Janet Murdock and was born in 1779 on a farm called Kilpatrick, not far from there. He married Jane in 1806 or 1807. She was the daughter of Andrew Lusk and margaret Kerr, and was the cousin of Sir Andrew Lusk, who was the Lord Mayor London.</div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">James was an ideal man—vigorous, industrious, temperate and intensive and generous Presbyterian.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is reported to have been a well-known singer of church music.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His wife, Jane, has been reported to have rare business talents, keen foresight, was clean, loveable and somewhat slim.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She operated a little country store on the farm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The family was considered to be fairly prosperous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They lived most of their married lives on the Glessel farm near Pinmore and Kilpatrick.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Their eleven children, Margaret, Janet, John, West (our ancestor), Sarah, Chirstina, Grace, Jean, Mary, James and Andrew, were all born in the parish of Girvan, Ayrshire, Scotland.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The children attended the school at both Pinmore and Glenluce farms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They walked several miles each day to school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their father, James Wilson, believing like modern parents in a hot lunch, had a village woman prepare for them every noon a thick, hot soup with everything “intilt”.</span></div>
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<span style="language: EN;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Mindful in every way of his family’s welfare, James strongly emphasized the religious side of their lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They had a ten-mile ride each Sabbath past ten churches of various denominations to reach the one of his belief, the Scotch Covenanter. <span style="font-weight: normal;">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They would sit through the four and five hour services on the straight hard benches.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>James’ version of their religious training said,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“We were never allowed to read the newspaper on Sunday or do anything except go to all the church services and keep clean and in order between times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was very little to eat on Sunday in our house and some of the neighbors did no cooking whatever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If we twisted or made a noise, or snickered in Church, we caught it when we went home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But on Monday we boys settled everything with our fists and climbed every tree and scaled every crag and went swimming.”</span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">While visiting Scotland in 1997, we were able to see the green rolling hills of Girvan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was on this land that the Wilson’s and Drynan’s lived all those years ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The old stone building is probably a couple of hundred years old and the old bridge is probably older than that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The little white dots on the hill are sheep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The land is lush and green. No wonder they were successful farmers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was here that West Wilson was born.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How he must have missed this land when he came to America.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Iowa was about as close as he could get to Scotland.</span><span style="font-size: 11pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%;"></span></div>
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</span></div>Grandma Harrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10800886370127882182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8568596640297347740.post-63099503068226431892011-05-28T18:30:00.000-07:002011-08-06T11:46:48.475-07:00Before Memorial Day it was Decoration Day.<strong><strong><a href="http://skyways.lib.ks.us/genweb/civilwar/countyP.html">William Tannahill, Phillips County</a></strong><br /><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="color: #990000;">William Tannahill</span>, <span style="color: #000099;">Iowa UnionCemetery, Phillips Co., Kansas.</span></span> <span style="font-family: Arial;">Has 3 tombstones. He died at Anapolis, MD at an Union Army Hospital while on "parole" from a Confederate prison. He was a member of Co B, 7th Reg, Iowa Infantry. Taken prison at Belmont, MO. Though actually buried in Anapolis National Cemetery, he has a tombstone in Chickasaw Co., Iowa and one where his widow Jeannette White Tannahill moved, <span style="color: #000099;">Iowa Union Cemetery, Phillips Co., Kansas.</span></span> </strong> <span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">At one time George went to Washington to have the body of his father, William Tannahill moved from the Cemetery there, and brought to Nashua Co. Cemetery near the Little Brown Church, but was informed that a body could not be removed from a National Cemetery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He went back to Iowa and had a tombstone erected for his father and markers for James Tannahill and his baby sister, Ella, who died when she was only 3 yrs. old. </span><br />
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<span style="language: EN;">Tombstone on the left is the stone at <a href="http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GSsr=41&GSvcid=174574&GRid=43741937&">Annapolis National Cemetery in Annapolis, Maryland.</a></span></div>
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Find A Grave Memorial# 43741937</div>
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<a hasbox="2" href="http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GSsr=41&GSvcid=174574&GRid=43741937&">Tannyhill, PVT William<img border="0" height="1" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/trans.gif" width="3" /><img align="top" border="0" hasbox="2" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/icons20/flowers.gif" /><img border="0" height="1" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/trans.gif" width="3" /><img align="top" border="0" hasbox="2" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/icons20/photo.gif" /><img border="0" height="1" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/trans.gif" width="3" /><img align="top" border="0" hasbox="2" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/icons20/headstone.gif" /></a> </div>
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<span style="language: EN;">The tombstone on the right is the memorial stone that George H. </span></div>
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<span style="language: EN;">Tannahill had erected in <a href="http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GSsr=41&GSvcid=174574&GRid=65326554&">Greenwood Cemetery,</a> Chickasaw Co.</span></div>
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<span style="language: EN;">Iowa. not far from the Little Brown Church. This is the cemetery where little Ella was buried and where James was also buried.</span><br />
Find A Grave Memorial# 65326554<br />
<a hasbox="2" href="http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GSsr=41&GSvcid=174574&GRid=65326554&"><b hasbox="2">Tannahill, William<img border="0" height="1" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/trans.gif" width="3" /><img align="top" border="0" hasbox="2" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/icons20/flowers.gif" /><img border="0" height="1" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/trans.gif" width="3" /><img align="top" border="0" hasbox="2" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/icons20/photo.gif" /><img border="0" height="1" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/trans.gif" width="3" /><img align="top" border="0" hasbox="2" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/icons20/headstone.gif" /></b></a> <br />
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<span style="language: EN;">The Cemetery below is the Iowa Union Cemetery as it is today. When George H. Tannahill, William's son moved to Phillipsburg, Kansas, he bought a farm. On this farm, as family died, they were buried here. Several Civil War Soldier's from Iowa wanted to be buried here also. George had the name changed to the Iowa Union Cemetery in honor of the Civil War Veterans who were buried there. Hence, the Iowa Union Cemetery in Phillipsburg, Kansas.</span></div>
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</div>Grandma Harrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10800886370127882182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8568596640297347740.post-16041262538797565402011-05-27T13:19:00.000-07:002011-08-06T11:49:21.037-07:00<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Janette had not heard from William since shortly before he went to battle at Belmont, where he was taken captive by the southern troops.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At that time he had written to her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It seems providential that he should have been let to write such words at a time when he had little doubt of returning in safety.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This last communication was read as a tribute to our ancestor, William Tannahill, at the Commemorative Funeral Services in Bradford, Iowa on Dec. 24, 1862 by the Pastor Rev. J. K. Nuting.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“Dear wife;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hardly know what to write to you as I do not know how you feel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I believe you feel as though you had a burden too heavy to bear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do not doubt it, but you must try to keep up good spirits.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do the best you can and put your trust in that God who will not suffer anything to come upon them that trust Him to their spiritual advantage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hath he not said he will never leave nor forsake you? And if it is so that I never come home He hath promised that He will be a husband to the widow and a Father to the fatherless.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And now, dear wife, commit yourself and our dear children to the care of that God that never slumbers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If it is His will that I should come home we will praise His name and if not, let us be resigned and say, “Not my will, but thine be done, O God!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Look forward to the time when<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>there shall be no more parting, neither sorrow nor sighing, when all tears shall be wiped from our eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Put your trust in the Lord, for they that put their trust in Him shall never be moved nor put to shame.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hope the children will be good and kind to their mother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yours in Love,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>William Tannahill”</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%;"></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Andy Feldt wrote Janette of his death at Annapolis.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many years later in a letter dated April 4, 1888, to Benjamin Morton, Andy wrote, “Is Mrs. Tannahill living there?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I shall never forget what a sad task it was to write her of her husbands death in Annapolis Hospital.”</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%;"></span></div>
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Find A Grave Memorial# 48622948<br /><a hasbox="2" href="http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GSsr=41&GSvcid=174574&GRid=48622948&"><b hasbox="2">Tannahill, Mrs Janette <i>White</i><img border="0" height="1" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/trans.gif" width="3" /><img align="top" border="0" hasbox="2" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/icons20/flowers.gif" /><img border="0" height="1" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/trans.gif" width="3" /><img align="top" border="0" hasbox="2" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/icons20/photo.gif" /><img border="0" height="1" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/trans.gif" width="3" /><img align="top" border="0" hasbox="2" src="http://www.findagrave.com/icons2/icons20/headstone.gif" /></b></a></div>Grandma Harrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10800886370127882182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8568596640297347740.post-53526181973303683262011-05-21T12:12:00.000-07:002011-05-22T08:06:59.626-07:00Captivity and Google BooksAll of the prisoners taken captive in the Battle of Belmont were sent to Tuscaloosa via Mobile, Alabama then to a Camp Oglethorpe in Macon, Ga. Of this trip, Andy Felt who was a well known newsman of the time, writes:<br />
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<i><span style="font-size: 12pt;">“That camp was another name for Hell with a big capital H.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a place of torment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Major Rylander had charge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was not a soldier, He was a bushwacking, cowardly “home guard.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was not “a man” but simply a “thing” in boots and spurs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had no heart and only an apology for a gizzard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is probably still living.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><b>The Devil wouldn’t accept him, no bullet could find him and no alligator would eat him</b>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When thinking of Camp Oglethorpe I try to exercise a Christian spirit, but its memories make me feel like the Devil. </span></i></div>
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Hundreds of our brave fellows were literally starved to death.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many were shot on the dead line.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The water was filthy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The food would upset the stomach of a Hottentot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The sand, the blankets, the clothing, the air, literally alive with vermin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Several thousand prisoners were there that year, 1862, coming and going……….Amid all its horrors I never heard a company “B” man utter a word that denoted failing courage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hope inspired each of them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>July fourth, 1862, will never be forgotten by those living who were there in Camp Oglethorpe that day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The boys grouped together and sang the Star Spangled Banner and America.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They entered into the spirit of the glorious day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were in bondage but the spirit of freemen burned within them.</blockquote>
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From there they were taken to <a href="http://www.mdgorman.com/Prisons/Libby/libby_prison.htm">Libby Prison in Richmond</a>, Va. <br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">The food given to the sick and the well would nauseate a carrion crow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After a rain the sick were taken from cattle cars and laid between railroad ties to dry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Andy Feldt knew personally twenty men who walked to the “dead line” to be shot rather than endure in prison.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">William was a man of prayer at home and his petitions were a rich feast to his hearers and full of scripture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He never lost his Scottish accent and never failed to rebuke kindly but faithfully the vices that surrounded him in camp, and it was never found that he lost by this means, any friendship of his comrades.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some of them took sweet counsel with him in Heavenly things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The story was told of how the men were dying for water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>William, upon seeing the men walking to the “dead line” to be shot, called them together for prayer, asking for water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the story goes, an hour after their prayer, the rain came and gave them the desperately needed water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Later a spring opened from the ground and they had running water.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">They were in prison one year and one week and had no change of clothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When the war was over the prisoners were taken to Washington to be mustered out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They wore the same clothes they had arrived in by then only rags and tatters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most were so ill they could not walk and there was only one wagon to convey them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>William got off the wagon and gave his place to those he felt were worse off than he was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was one of only 2 or 3 who were able to walk the gangplank when liberated from Libby Prison.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shortly after obtaining his freedom he ate some food, but because of the condition of his body, was unable to consume good food in any amount and he took sick and died 3 days later in Annapolis, Maryland.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="language: EN;">Not long ago, I attended a class on Google and learned about Google Books. When I went searching I found a book, <a href="http://books.google.com/books?id=WhpCAAAAIAAJ&pg=PA247&lpg=PA247&dq=%22andy+felt%22+civil+war&source=bl&ots=e_Jgo5XYLP&sig=NX8JAGld_TCOm_RGZcCOrwrUcoc&hl=en&ei=jg3YTdCDOIXi0QHDgdH7Aw&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=6&ved=0CDIQ6AEwBQ#v=onepage&q&f=false">"History of the Seventh Iowa Veteran Volunteer Infantry during the Civil War"</a></span><br />
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<span style="language: EN;">In this little book was a chapter written by Andy Felt wherein he describes the conditions and the treatment of the prisoners. He also mentions William Tannahill and was with him when he died.</span></div>
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</div>Grandma Harrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10800886370127882182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8568596640297347740.post-49113408244615982011-05-17T20:16:00.000-07:002011-05-18T14:29:58.224-07:00William Tannahill goes to War<div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">About William’s Tannahill's picture: A photographer said that this type of picture was made around the turn of the century (1900) when the photographers, with their horse and buggy would travel the country and from tintype pictures they would enlarge them, and then paint them.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">The Civil War began in 1860 and being the kind of man that he was, William was one of the first to enlist in Co.P, 7th Iowa Regiment in the service of his country. On the First Chickasaw County Company Roster there are several names which are important to our family. From Bradford, Chickasaw Co., Thomas Bigger, A.J.Felt, John Laird, William Tannahill. From New Hampton, B.E. Morton, and A.H. Morton</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">William always wore a long beard and it was shot off as he stood by the side of his friend, Andy Feldt, in the Battle of Belmont.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As fate would have it, a young man named Benjamin Ellis Morton had come to this same battle to enlist in the same regiment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He became acquainted with William and shared those experiences in battle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Both William and Andy were taken prisoners there, and were given a chance to go free if they would agree not to re-enlist.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not a man took his freedom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Alvin H. Morton, Benjamin's brother, was killed.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; font-weight: bold; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><a href="http://www.sonofthesouth.net/leefoundation/civil-war/1861/december/battle-belmont.htm">BATTLE OF BELMONT</a></span></div>
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<span style="language: EN; mso-ansi-language: EN;">There was a battle at Belmont, Missouri, opposite Columbus, on 7th. An expedition numbering about 3500 men and including the Twenty-second , Twenty-seventh, Thirtieth and Thirty-first Regiments, the Seventh Iowa Reginent, Taylors Chicago Artillery, and Dollen’s and Delano’s Cavalry, proceeded down the river on steamboats accompanied by the gun-boats Lexington and Tyler, landed on Thursday morning, and made the attack on the rebels, seven thousand strong, about 11 o'clock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The enemy were strongly entrenched, and being so much superior in numbers, made a strong resistance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were, however, driven out of their camp, which was destroyed, and their battery, consisting of twelve pieces, was captured — two of the guns being brought away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their camp and baggage were destroyed, their horses and mules were captured, and a large number of them were taken prisoners.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The object of the expedition having been accomplished, the National forces were retiring, when they were attacked by a heavy rebel reinforcement from Columbus, on the opposite side of the river, and another, desperate engagement took place, which continued until our forces were all withdrawn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The losses in killed and wounded were heavy on both sides.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How much the rebels suffered in this respect is not known with certainty, but the casualties of the national forces, in killed, wounded, and missing are estimated at three to five hundred —probably at least ten per cent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The expedition was commanded by Generals Grant and McLennand.</span><span style="language: EN;"></span></div>
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<span style="language: EN;"> Taken from <span style="color: blue; font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; language: EN; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-cyrillic-font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-default-font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-greek-font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-latin-font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-latinext-font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><span style="color: black;">Civil War Harper's Weekly, December 7, 1861 </span></span></span><br />
<span style="language: EN;"><a href="http://www.sonofthesouth.net/leefoundation/civil-war/1861/december/battle-belmont.htm">http://www.sonofthesouth.net/leefoundation/civil-war/1861/december/battle-belmont.htm</a> <span style="language: EN;"></span></span></div>
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</div>Grandma Harrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10800886370127882182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8568596640297347740.post-31094387876815668482011-05-13T10:51:00.000-07:002011-05-13T10:51:04.108-07:00A Charming Tradition <div style="text-align: left;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhKx2VIidJxQ53EM2KMaVV1U6KgAW6A24tq7-XpOSqNojKMV9d1ns-h36Ks2Toj46o4Su1PYUWlYciqxeXO4x3dPP0tHnW880vNYUO_dNXDaHoIxMOy4tGV5oNkY69vrybpJGmFSVpRAdK/s1600/Two+little+girls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhKx2VIidJxQ53EM2KMaVV1U6KgAW6A24tq7-XpOSqNojKMV9d1ns-h36Ks2Toj46o4Su1PYUWlYciqxeXO4x3dPP0tHnW880vNYUO_dNXDaHoIxMOy4tGV5oNkY69vrybpJGmFSVpRAdK/s320/Two+little+girls.jpg" width="226" /></a>Many years after these two little girls were grown, Lydia Tannahill (the youngest) wrote to her sister, Amy Tannahill, and asked if she remembered the Charm strings that they had made as children. The answer to "who will I wed?" was to be found in buttons. Young women spent years gathering strings of the most beautiful buttons, aiming for 999 so that the thousandth could be added by their "Prince Charming". There were many different customs for these memory strings or charm strings or just button strings but the Prince Charming story was the most common. Another custom required that a girl acquire 999 buttons before her friends did, making it more like a game. In this version, gaining the thousandth button doomed the girl to spinsterhood. There may have been different versions but the rules were the same for gathering the buttons. They should be one of a kind, the prettiest and most brilliant available, preferably gifts from a friend, boyfriend, or family member, or traded with another stringer. They should not be bought. While unfinished, the charm string was kept in plain view to inspire visitors to contribute buttons and also to brag and tell colorful stories of how you got each one. "This button was given by Aunt Mable from a gown she wore to the Inaugural Ball" or "This was from grandfather's Civil War uniform." Memories were remembered and stories told by families while they sat on the porch, visiting and drinking lemonade, and rummaging through Mother's and Grandmother's button boxes. These "button boxes were the leading sources of materials for charm strings, and these young girls became the country's first button collectors."</div>Grandma Harrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10800886370127882182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8568596640297347740.post-55466031024963764632011-05-08T15:41:00.000-07:002011-05-08T15:41:12.199-07:00The Little Brown Church in the Vale<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyuL2YQwlcAb1DxbrmXjlhH_Q9Fjd8SuhdgUccG0-rQYtOsxV9h8bwtrgT9CpaycBSWrwOhNLIcrlPIIX_GfQ8lDuhbZaIvb4EQWtx48YX8tHCmL10DMUHANHnfDHeEDmJ04wmXhYWpkb2/s1600/Little+Brown+Church.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="172" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyuL2YQwlcAb1DxbrmXjlhH_Q9Fjd8SuhdgUccG0-rQYtOsxV9h8bwtrgT9CpaycBSWrwOhNLIcrlPIIX_GfQ8lDuhbZaIvb4EQWtx48YX8tHCmL10DMUHANHnfDHeEDmJ04wmXhYWpkb2/s200/Little+Brown+Church.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">In 1855, William Tannahill brought his family to Nashua, Iowa.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His brother and his wife, Robert and Margaret Nelson Tannahill came also.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <span style="font-size: 12pt; language: EN; line-height: 100%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">The years in Iowa were difficult years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>William had bought 40 acres of land close to New Bradford but a few months later his horses were stolen so he gave up farming and made his living as a cobbler.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He tanned his own leather and went from home to home making shoes for the entire family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>William did carpenter work and helped build the first Congregational Church of New Hampton, later known as the “The Little Brown Church in the Wildwood.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They became Charter members of this little church and their names are engraved on a bronze plaque there today.</span><span style="language: EN;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjHWgKHrr2sXTJHERRE98_EkPsu8WitchFFQDEMQs25pPPu_qNyeqdy9s54zyKNJu-Qbx0TyNRvVeseJDTM73TWMBMCy8GNcTeqqpPhorvYFPewWiFcwZAzEN5Vtg4v2_KrL96UWs_9_ZM/s1600/Bronze+Placque.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjHWgKHrr2sXTJHERRE98_EkPsu8WitchFFQDEMQs25pPPu_qNyeqdy9s54zyKNJu-Qbx0TyNRvVeseJDTM73TWMBMCy8GNcTeqqpPhorvYFPewWiFcwZAzEN5Vtg4v2_KrL96UWs_9_ZM/s320/Bronze+Placque.jpg" width="202" /></a></div>
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<span style="language: EN;">If you visit the <a href="http://www.littlebrownchurch.org/churchphotos.cfm">Little Brown Church</a> in Nashua, Iowa you can see this Bronze Memorial Tablet in the front of the chapel (In the church photo's on their website it is partially hidden behind the Christmas tree). It shows the original membership, 1855-1888. It was dedicated on October 11, 1925. These are the names on the tablet:</span></div>
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<span style="language: EN;">1856 - Carolyn Billings, Mary Spurr, Leander Smith, Eliza N. Smith, Lemuel Bull, Capt. John Smith, Betsey Smith, Elmore Smith, Charlotte B. Smith, Mary Vinton, William Tannahill, Janet Tannahill, J. Edward Smith, Octavia K. Smith</span></div>
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<span style="language: EN;">1857 - Hiram Fountain, Hannah Fountain, Mary Thompson</span></div>
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<span style="language: EN;">1858 - Cheerill Parkhurst, E.N. Palmer, Corintha R. Palmer,Anna M. Biggar, Harriet W. Smith, Harriet Smith</span></div>
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<span style="language: EN;">1859 - Levi S. Thomas, Charlotte R. Thomas</span></div>
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<span style="language: EN;">1860 - Samuel F. Eastman, Hannah L. Eastman, William Stephens, Ann Stephens, Celeste E. Nutting, John Heald, Lydia E. Heald, Mary Foster, Elizabeth J. Strickland, Margaret E. Thompson, Ellen J. Thomas, Maria C. Smith, Dora Stephens, Ellen S. Taylor, Levi Haskell, Paulina Haskell, Mrs. Charles Greeley, William Biggar, Elizabeth Biggar, Harriet W. Dickinson</span></div>
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<span style="language: EN;">1861 - Newton J. Watson</span></div>
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<span style="language: EN;">1861- Daniel Heath, Calvin A. Bierce, Frances R. Bierce</span></div>
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<span style="language: EN;">1862 - Irving M. Fisher, Mary E. Smith, Celia J. Wells, Mary A. Chapman, Edward Thomas, Mary A. Barber, Carrie B. Smith, Mary J. Biggar, Celia I. Bird, Mary E. Weller</span></div>
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<span style="language: EN;">1864 - Ellen Hall</span></div>
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<span style="language: EN;">1865 - Mary E. Colony</span></div>
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<span style="language: EN;">1866 - Albert E. Quaife, William A. Eastman, Licerus A. Jewett, Mary E. Choate, Maria U.N. Knapp, William P. Bennett, Mrs. W. P. Bennett</span></div>
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<span style="language: EN;">1867 - Joseph S. Bennett, Mrs. Albert Quaife, Riley Brooks, William M. Brooks, Adelia F. Brooks, </span></div>
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<span style="language: EN;">Henry N. Potter, Leonard M. Tucker, Alletta L. Brooks</span></div>
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<span style="language: EN;">1868 - Rev. R. J. Williams, Mrs. A. P. Williams, Harriet Williams, Phoebe Wade, Mrs. W. Myers </span></div>
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<span style="language: EN;">1869 - Fannie G. Graves</span></div>
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<span style="language: EN;">1870 - John F. Brant, L. B. Parker, Eliza A. Parker, Carrie W. Barrie, Mary R. Bliss</span></div>
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<span style="language: EN;">1871 - Erastus Palmer</span></div>
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<span style="language: EN;">1872 - Mrs. J. W. Hudson, Mary B. Morse, F.A. Davis, Alma Davis, Maria Brooks</span></div>
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<span style="language: EN;">1874 - Rev. J. W. Hudson, Ida Adams, Elvira Bird, Maria D. Smith, George Laird, Lydia A. Laird, Mary Jane Spencer, Mary L. Eastman, Margaret W. Tannahill, Rena D. Smith, Anna George Laird, Margaret Laird, Swift B. Smith, Minerva J. Smith</span></div>
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<span style="language: EN;">1875 - Agnes Dalziel, Orlando Billiangs, Sarah Billings, Ella R. Ranch, Louise C. Ranch</span></div>
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<span style="language: EN;">1880 - Warren R. Smith, Marion R. Heald, James M. Heald</span></div>
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<span style="language: EN;">1883 - Edward B. Smith, Helen D. Eastman, Alice I. Smith, Mary M. Johnson, Clara A. Dickenson</span></div>
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<span style="language: EN;">1887 - Edna M. Heald, Ada Hillman</span></div>
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<span style="language: EN;">1888 - Eva Smith, Lillie Mitchell, Cora Wolf</span></div>
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<span style="language: EN;">(Note: I have never seen a list of these names transcribed. I have tried to copy, as best I could from 2 pictures of these tablets. There may be mistakes so do not take this as proof but it should give you an idea of who was there at that time. MH.)</span></div>Grandma Harrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10800886370127882182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8568596640297347740.post-11489293816552309552011-05-02T20:10:00.000-07:002011-05-07T14:27:29.226-07:00I love Find A Grave<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivtnofVqDPAwrNqDTgOKhUS3op-9_Wk375ms7pyuvninlD7kqPh3SsSwlmPG9UqlLoWO4LbdCI5lDpyYknhyphenhyphenHI3be40gIuA2ox777iAoLuUrjil95abB8KiIKUuVeOGgR7001o2idKzUuQ/s1600/Amy%2527s+Memorial.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivtnofVqDPAwrNqDTgOKhUS3op-9_Wk375ms7pyuvninlD7kqPh3SsSwlmPG9UqlLoWO4LbdCI5lDpyYknhyphenhyphenHI3be40gIuA2ox777iAoLuUrjil95abB8KiIKUuVeOGgR7001o2idKzUuQ/s200/Amy%2527s+Memorial.jpg" width="161" /></a></div>
Many of my family have not yet learned about <a href="http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GSvcid=174574&GRid=60423174&">Find A Grave</a>. This site honors the memory of our dead ancestors. It has the capacity to link parents and spouses and as a result you can follow a family across the country, cemetery after cemetery, to where your family lived. There are good people and organizations who have made a project of documenting the gravesites, adding pictures of the gravestones and putting a memorial on the website. When you find a grave, you can request that it be transfered to you for maintenance or if you know a person was buried in a particular cemetery, and he has not yet been entered there, you can set up the memorial yourself, add a bio or obit, put up a picture of the person, leave flowers and a note and create a virtual family cemetery.Grandma Harrisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10800886370127882182noreply@blogger.com0