let's try this again without the trolls - more hillbilly heritage stuff

K

King Ghidora

Guest
As some of you know a thread with a lot of interesting information in it was deleted recently. I'd like to add some things to that discussion that weren't mentioned before. Some of the stuff I mention here was posted already. The last parts here were not posted in the previous thread so those who have read the info from my ancestors letter might want to skip to the new section. I'll put a divider in to identify what is new after what has already been posted before.

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George McDavid and Mary Blevins, McDavid

George and Mary were living in Scott Co. Virginia in 1827 when they had a visitor Col. Andrew Kitchen, from Kentucky, who was looking for a place to lodge for the night on his way to Greenbrier Co. Va. where both had lived and were friends. Col. Kitchen stayed all night at George’s home. He told George and Mary of the rich bottoms lands, rolling lands, and hills with plenty of timber, plenty of wild game and buy cheap land. They listened carefully and decided a man could have all he wanted.
When Col. Kitchen left the next morning to continue his journey to Greenbrier Co. he told George and Mary if they wanted to go to Ky. to be prepared on his way back, they could travel with him. Col. Kitchen departed on his journey. George and Mary began packing what they needed to take with them and prepared the children. They built a raft to float down the Big Sandy River and loaded it with a few small household items their only clothing were the ones they were wearing. When Col. Kitchen arrived back at their home in Scott Co. George, Mary, George’s Mother, Martha Wilson, McDavid, seven children and the bear dog were waiting for him. (George’s father Patrick McDavid was already dead). They floated the raft and the family rode George’s through-bred horses along the river to keep a watchful eye on the raft.
They settled in Cherokee, Lawrence Co. Kentucky. But they soon purchased a farm by the Little Fork of the Big Sandy water stream on a large farm containing over seven hundred acres. In 1838 Carter Co. was developed a portion was in Lawrence County, and the rest in Carter Co. In 1868 Elliott Co. was developed and the farm was now in three counties where George and Mary remained for the rest of their lives.
George, his two sons James, John and with the help of the Kitchen family they soon had a their two room Log Cabin built, one room downstairs and one room upstairs.
It was heavy forest and they could not allow the children to roam outside for fear of their becoming lost or endangered by wild animals, which were always near by.
George soon built a fence of tree limbs standing high on their ends and tied together with raw hide.
The land was cleared, Game was hunted, garden and crops were planted, and greens were picked and cooked over open fire. The wild game killed for personal consumption was hung from the rafters in the loft. Panthers and wildcats would roam and scream near by because they could not get to the fresh meat.
The noises terrified the children.

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This farm purchased for $500.00 from John and Mary Lester who soon left for Illinois and promised to send George the deed for the farm. After some time became anxious, since George’s brother, William lived in Montgomery Co. Illinois near where John and Mary Lester lived. George decided to go to his brothers in Illinois. George and William made a plan to drive John Lester into the Ohio River if he did get his deed. The two approached Mr. Lester and told him of their plan. There was no other alternative but to kill him.
Needless to say George got his deed. It was dated 25 January 1832, made in Montgomery Co. Illinois.
George was the son of Patrick and Martha Wilson, McDavid. He was the grandson of George McDavid in Rockbridge Co. and Lunenburg Co. Virginia. His great grandparents: James McDavid and Mary Ann Allen, McDavid of Lunenburg Co. James, his wife, and sons Patrick, John, George, and one daughter name unknown, immigrated from Ireland about 1728. James born 1680, Glinsk Castle, Ireland died 1748 at Cub Creek Lunenburg County. His will was probated 1748.
George’s maternal grand parents were Samuel and Martha Wilson. Samuel Wilson’s will was probated May 1760, Augusta Co. Virginia.
Mary Blevins of Cherokee Indian descent was the daughter of Daniel and Sarah Blevins.
George born 1788 in Greenbrier Co. Va., died 14 February 1875, Elliott Co. Ky. married 1812 Mary Blevins born 1800 in Tennessee, died 14 March 1860, Elliott Co. Ky. Their issue as follows:

1. Lucinda “Lucy” married John Armstrong.
2. James married Nannie Eastham.
3. John married Millie Armstrong.
4. Mary Elizabeth “Betty” married Jesse Sloas.
5. Samuel Wilson married Elizabeth Eastham, sister to Nanny.
6. Nancy married Benjamin Sturgill, he died she married second Archie Griffith,
7. Daniel married Elizabeth “Betty” Sturgill, sister to Benjamin Sturgill.
8. Martha married William Bush, he died she married second Jacob Porter.

These children all lived in Carter and Elliott Co. Ky. and died there except James he lived on the property in Lawrence Co.
George was a man of honor and his descendants have followed his ideals.
George, Mary and all their children except Lucy and Samuel are buried in the McDavid Cemetery in Elliott Co. across the road from George’s house. The house is now gone.
Lucy is buried in Pleasant Valley Cemetery near Olive Hill in Carter Co. and Samuel was buried on Deer Creek but moved to Grayson when the Army Corps of Engineers was building Grayson Lake.

George loved to hunt. He would lie out all night, under a tree on a bed of leaves under a tree with his feist dog nearby, waiting for daylight to kill a raccoon.

While hunting one cold morning at the head of a hollow, Cliffs all around, walked upon a panther. It was cowed down, hair raised, George hollered. It set back this gave George an opportunity to shoot it. It measured nine feet from the tip of its nose to the end of its tail.

On one of George’s bear hunting trips he shot a bear. It didn’t die but crawled off into a thicket. While George was looking for it with his feist dog, tracking the blood he got his foot caught in some vines. He almost fell in a ravine on top of the bear. It raised up and could have killed George, but the dog saved George’s life by barking and biting the bear causing it to turn on the dog. This gave George the
opportunity to get far enough away to load his muzzle gun and to shoot the bear again.

George and Mary kept a heavy quilt hung over the doors and windows in cold weather to keep the cold air from coming in through the cracks around the doors and windows. The feist dog lay on the quilt at the bottom of the door to keep anyone or anything from entering.

Grandpa Frank McDavid slept with his grandfather, George, when he was a small boy and said, “George was a spare made man, had deep blue eyes, black hair and nice looking.” George died at 87 years; even in his eighties would go to the creek to wash the year around. During the winter when the water was frozen he would take an ax and chop a hole in the ice to wash.
Mary took her homespun clothing to the creek to wash them the year around by beating them with a stick and washing by hand.
George kept sheep under the rock cliffs for shelter. He was a farmer, Hunter, and a hat maker. He spun wool into a cone shape, then block out the crown and brim. For a century after George was dead men were still wearing his hats.

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I have a feist myself partly because of this story about my ancestors. But we also had one when I was a kid but only for a short time. We were keeping it for someone while they were away for a while. I learned to love those dogs then. They are built like greyhounds almost and nearly as quick. I've watched mine run circles around my cats that were running full speed trying to get away from him. He wouldn't even get close to them but they absolutely could not outrun him and that is very unusual.

Some things just never change I guess. Too bad my feist came from a shelter and is really messed up in the head. They're almost always independent dogs but mine is exceptionally so. He gets in a lot of trouble because of that and he doesn't take criticism well at all. Still I think I can make an excellent squirrel dog out of him eventually. I have made some progress in that area.

Jeff
 
Great idea.
I'll dig out my family tree it has many interesting stories going back to the Colonial times.
Some of the Civil War era stuff would put Clint Eastwood movies to shame.
 
I really like reading these things that come directly from regular people instead of history books. I think we get a much better picture of what life was like that way. We don't have any filters between us and the actual information. I'm lucky in that I have people in my family that have done lots of research into this kind of thing. I have lots of old photos and things like that too. I'll be glad to post as much of it as people want to see. And I'll be more glad to see what others have to show.
 
This is great stuff. These are the people who actually settled our country and built our farms and cities. This is our history, we must keep it and treasure it or we will surely lose it.

Most of what we know about history is based on great political or military events and yet the real work was done by people who were just trying to raise families safely and mind their own business. It is interesting that these people used guns as tools like they used hoes and shovels.

I have always suspected that our people are greater than our leaders.

Concho Bill
 
A story from the family tree.
Family friend
Quince Winkles

Quince, while working on a raft of logs being floated down the clinch river, found a log that had broken free of another man's raft.
Finding no mark or brand on the log he hooked it to his raft and sold it at market for $13.

His old hat being worn out he decided to spend about $4 of his found fortune on a new Stetson hat (wow!), bought a new pair of shoes , and a gallon of corn whiskey, and a train ticket back home.

While boarding the train he bumped the jug and it broke spilling all the whiskey. A few miles up track his hat blew off and sailed out the window never to be seen again.
His feet then began to swell up and he had to cut his new shoes open to relieve the pressure.
He decided then and there that it doesn't pay to obtain what you want with ill gotten gains.


Theodore Trent, Baptist minister and Sheriff of Hancock County for two years.
Theodore had a set of tooth pulling pliers and occasionally pulled teeth for folks in need.
A teenager , Leonard Wilburn was stuck on Theodores young pretty daughter, Theodore did not approve.
One day Theodore came home and found leonard there, visiting the daughter without Theodore being there, a bad move for Leonard.
When Theodore demanded to know why he was there all Leonard could think of as an excuse was to say he had a toothache and wanted Theodore to look at it.
Theodore took a look at the tooth, then grabbed Leonard and wrestled him to the floor and yanked out the tooth.
Leonard didn't really need the tooth pulled but figured he got off easy.
 
When my grandfather, Dennis Leon Babb, was a young boy near Hope, Arkansas in the late 1890s wanted to shoot his older brother's 22. His brother did not want to share it with him and protested with all kinds of reasoning. Their father, my great grandfather Babb, intervened, as any father would, and let the younger brother shoot the gun.

He was shooting at a bird a long ways away and when the older brother cried out, "Don't shoot at that bird. It is too far and you will strain my gun."

Concho Bill
 
My Grandpa McKinley was 14 when he hitchhiked from New York City to California, this is in 1914. His Dad left him and his Mom when he was 4. His Mom was a cook and work was hard to come by so Grandpa went by himself to find him and his Mom work and a better life. So off he went hitchhiking across the country. He got a job on a ranch in Montana for a summer as he was broke and needed money. When the harvest was over he asked the farmer for his pay and he needed to move on. The farmer told him he was not paying him and to "get along" well gramps would have none of that so he pulled out his hogs leg, stuck it in the farmers face and the farmer seemed to have found some money to pay him with. On he went to Calif. found his Mom a job, hitchhiked back to New York and brought his mom out in a model T or A (not sure In those years). Well the fuel in those cars were gravity feed and there was a big hill. Most cars were backing up to get up the that steep hill. What did grandpa do he got the tire pump out put it in the fuel tank sealed it up with who knows what and stood on the running board pumping the air pump as his mom drove the car forward up the hill. They made it to Calif. and she worked as a cook and grandpa got a job milking 30 head of cows a day by hand. He married my grandma cause he said he never met anybody that could milk more head thn he could.Grandpa only had a 2nd grade education but in my eyes he was the smartest man I knew. He ended up owning a packing house that is now killing over 800 head a week. Grandpa always took me fishing and hunting whenever he went. My dad has his Pre-64 Model 70 super grade 300 H&H he bought brand new in the 30's. It's killed more deer and elk than I'll ever get in 2 life times. I loved my grandpa.
 
Hey King

That area of the country is beautiful. I live on the Ohio River (Ohio side of the river) not to far from the mouth of the Big Sandy River.

Loved your story.

Dave Knapp
 
I live on the Ohio River (Ohio side of the river) not to far from the mouth of the Big Sandy River.

That sounds like South Point. I was a mailman in that area for years. I delivered mail to the Burlington area mostly and out Charley Creek.

Some of the area up on the ridges above S. Point are incredibly beautiful IMO. And the rocks out the hollers down toward Coal Grove are something special too. I have a good friend that lives in that area. I delieverd mail down that way at times too.
 
King

I actually live between Ironton and Wheelersburg. A place called Haverhill. The mouth of the Little Sandy River is directly across the Ohio River in Greenup Ky.

Dave K
 
I thought I would add a few photos here. The man and woman are my great, great, great grandparents, Daniel McDavid and Elisabeth Sturgill McDavid. Daniel was born in 1827 and died in 1909. Daniel is also the man in the tall hat with the corn. His father was a hat maker for many years. The other photo is of my great, great grandfather, Frank McDavid. He was born in 1859. I'm not sure when he died. Daniel died owning over 1600 acres in the Grayson Lake area. Many of my relatives still live in the area. In fact there are a great many of my relatives in Grayson and Carter Co. and beyond. People could support large families in those days by hard work. Daniel was the son of George who was the man who was saved from a bear by his dog after he had shot the bear. I posted info about him previously.

Daniel_and_Mary_McDavid.jpg
Daniel_McDavid.jpg
Frank_McDavid.jpg
 
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Thanks for sharing all the family info, thats great reading. I will visit for more updates.


Thanks
pickles
 
Not southern, but heritage none the less..

Jeff,
My fraternal grandfather was born in Finland just about on the arctic circle. In the 1890's he decided to go somewhere warmer. So he emigrated to the upper peninsula of Michigan, where he met & married my grandmother (also emigrated from Finland). Farming was/is hard in the UP with the short growing season & hard winters. However it worked out, since they only had 18 children, of which my father was the youngest born in 1919.

Sometime earlier before WWI, my grandfather had bought a parcel of land & then sold it to the iron mine a year later for a nice profit. He put the money in the bank & took a ship back to Finland with the plan to buy a farm & move the family back. While he was in Finland, he got a telegraph saying to come home because the bank had gone broke & he had lost the money. He then returned, continued farming in the UP, and sired my father.

The point of the story is: If that bank had not gone broke, the family would have moved back to Finland, but my father (& I) would not have been born. I essentially owe my existence to a badly managed bank that went broke in Michigan before WWI!

My point is that all of us are unbelievably remarkable accidents of fate. Life is to be enjoyed!

Regards, Ron
 
I actually live between Ironton and Wheelersburg. A place called Haverhill.

Ha! I actually live in a place called Franklin Furnace that must be at least 10 feet from Haverhill. ;) I live on Big Pete actually. I'm guessing you know where that is. I grew up on the Little Sandy too in Argillite close to Greenbo.

It seems like there are a lot of people from this region on this board. I always knew shooting was a popular sport around here. The fact there are so many locals here proves it.

We should get together and do some shooting sometime. I have a pretty good place to shoot here in my yard and I'm still part owner of the farm at Argillite. Schattenjager is close to this area too.

Wow, Finland is the real deal when it comes to cold isn't it RJM? The UP isn't exactly warm either but it isn't Finland. I've always been amazed that people could adapt to that kind of weather. I actually like cold weather but those long nights would get to me more than anything. Americans are an odd brew of people from all over. It's great when we all come together. I don't much care for hyphenated American stuff though. You're either an American or not. I don't think I've ever heard anyone say Finnish-American. I just have one question. Have you ever ate Lutefisk? I know it's more of a Norwegian thing but pretty much all of Scandanavia eats it to a degree. I know people have kept the tradition alive here in the US. I guess people wonder about people like me eating frog legs too. :)

Jeff
 
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Jeff

I think I know who you are now. Does your wife run the Post Office in FF?


Dave Knapp
 
Yeah that's her. She said you came in and asked about me this morning. You should stop by and shoot some. We live in the A-frame on Big Pete. It's on the Wheelerburg side of the hill on the right up in the woods a little. I can send you my phone number in a PM. I can shoot 50 yards here pretty easy. I can set up for 70 yards if I try. Or we could head out to the farm and shoot up to 300 yards.
 
History is a funny thing and family stories help tie it together. I would like to share part of my family's history with you.

I have a letter that my grandmother's father wrote to his soon to be wife. It was written on June 6, 1866 from his mother and father's home in north eastern Alabama near Bridgeport. My great-grandfather Loyd, was telling her that it was cold and rainy and the fire felt good. He said he was wearing his warm grey grey Confederate coat and his mother was making his wedding suit. He said that he hoped that her brother would be able to come to the wedding he just knew that even though there had been differences that they would be able to get along and might even fish and hunt together. You see, my great grandmother was a first cousin of President Andrew Johnson so I suspect her brother may have served in the union army. He went on to say that he had spent the last two days shucking a wagon load of corn that he would deliver when the rain let up and get payed. He complained that shucking corn was a "such a medial job".

Although it has been over 140 years since he wrote the letter, in reading it, I can still feel the chill that he felt on that rainy evening.

I was amazed to find out that his war had ended when he was shot down and left on the field at Gettysburg. He was in a coma and was picked up by Union medics only because of his Masonic ring. A doctor who was also a Mason took care of him. He came out of the coma after nine days. The doctor took the young man home with him and he even rowed around on a small lake with the doctor's daughter. He must have been a real scary Rebel solider.

So you see, if it had not been for the kindness of a yankee doctor in that terrible war and a Masonic ring, I would not be retelling this story.

Bill Wynne
 
Remington Arms

My great grandpa on my counterfittin Canadian side of the family owned Remigton Arms in a poker hand once lost it back to the same bloke the next hand.

Stephen Perry
Angeles BR
 
I actually like cold weather but those long nights would get to me more than anything. ........................................................I just have one question. Have you ever ate Lutefisk? I know it's more of a Norwegian thing but pretty much all of Scandanavia eats it to a degree. too. :)

Jeff


HA!!

"I actually like cold weather"

translated this means one thing, YOU AIN'T SEEN COLD WEATHER!!! :D I found my wife in Da' Yoop, she's 100% Finn. (I'm only 70-80%) We both grew up around farming and working..... in the cold.....We moved West where it sometimes freezes a little in winter and don't miss the cold A'tall!


Yaaahh, the UP's perty cold but I spent 17yrs in MN ...... coldest I've seen in Northern Michigan was only 38 below Fahrenheit while in MN it got down to 52 degrees below zero. Mercury thermometers freeze solid at 40below......... Fahrenheit or centigrade.



NO Skandihoovian except a Norwegian would be caught dead eating lutefisk or lefse....... :D


kalamoijjakkaaa (fishhead stew)..... mustamakkeraa (blood sausage)...... viilia' (indescribable white slime from fermented milk) BUT NO LUTEFISK!!!!

D'at's sqvarehead food!

LOL


al
 
alinwa

Hey my relatives on my Ma's side of the family are square head Russian Maineiacs still live in Maine. They eat anything and prefer homemade potato vodka to wash it down.

Stephen Perry
Angeles BR
 
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