Good morning everybody, I hope you had a good weekend. We did. Genie signed us up with an interesting group called http://www.findagrave.com/. So yesterday we responded to a request to "find a grave," actually two graves, both in one of the local cemeteries, Skull Valley Cemetery.
We successfully photographed them with Genie's digital camera and sent them along to the "Find a Grave" folks. This morning there was a grateful "Thank You" in our email. You know, doing something for others benefits both parties.
The Skull Valley Graveyard is a tiny little graveyard, I'd say maybe fifty or so graves at most, with two recent burials and the oldest around 1900. As you might imagine, Skull Valley isn't a great big community. How did it get its name? Well, we are told when the first white folks, a couple of trappers, visited the area some time in the mid 1850's they found a lot of human skulls laying around. It is suspected that those skulls were all that remained of bodies left unburied after a battle between two rival Indian groups many years before. But no one really knows.
Sometime after the Civil War, in the 1870's, people began to move into the area and it has been occupied ever since. Current population? Oh maybe fifty or so. The tiny village now boasts a post office, grocery store, one tiny, tiny restaurant, one pump service station and a small building occupied by the local Historical Society. Neat place.
I just know you folks are all excited now about Skull Valley. As an interesting aside, last fall when Genie and I drove through the area on our way to Prescott, we saw a small Elk herd just outside of town with two really nice Bulls. That alone recommends the place to me.
Okay, okay, I'll move on to other things. My next family blog should be ready to go either tomorrow or the next day if something doesn't come up, like photographing a grave somewhere in another tiny rural cemetery around here. Yes, we live in a tiny community out in the boonies ourselves and drive thirty miles to Prescott to do our shopping once a week. Fun huh? Sometimes yes, sometimes no.
I'd really like to hear from any of you that read my blog. It would help me a lot to know what you think and get your suggestions as to how I can make it better--write to me more often. See ya tomorrow. Bob
Monday, November 1, 2010
!!!!!!!!HAPPY SPOOKS DAY!!!!!!!!!
When I was a kid--uh boy, here he goes again--Halloween had a dual meaning. Go out and knock down corn shocks, soap car windows, knock on doors and run. Or, dress up as a spook, dress up as a bum, or fairy, you name it. Then knock on doors with your goodies sack held out in front of you and delight at what the folks put in it. Nibble on it all the way around the neighborhood as you beg for more, then go home and compare to see who got the most and the best of the wonderful, usually sweet, goodies.
When your old, dottery and grumpy like me, you try and remember the good times you had tearing down a neighbor's corn shocks, soaping his car windows, you name it, anything devilish. You tell anybody who will listen your funny stories, at least you think they're funny. They may have heard them all before, indeed if it is a family member, I'm sure they have heard it all before.
You remember that you got lots and lots of goodies, some homemade, others store "boughten," but you didn't really mind just so you got something.
When your old, dottery and grumpy like me, you try and remember the good times you had tearing down a neighbor's corn shocks, soaping his car windows, you name it, anything devilish. You tell anybody who will listen your funny stories, at least you think they're funny. They may have heard them all before, indeed if it is a family member, I'm sure they have heard it all before.
You remember that you got lots and lots of goodies, some homemade, others store "boughten," but you didn't really mind just so you got something.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
The Passing of a Friend, Ed Criley
I recently learned that I have lost probably my oldest friend, Ed Criley. Ed and I attended Kent State University in Kent Ohio together from 1948 through graduation in 1951. We both received degrees in geology, specializing in hard rock geology. Ed continued on and became a leading geologist in the United States Geological Survey specializing in volcanology. I went to the University of Utah and specialized in Mining Geology with an emphasis in mining.
The summer between our Junior and Senior years at Kent State we participated, along with seven other geology students, in a required class mapping geology on Mt. Desert Island, Maine. The course was taught by our leading professor at Kent, Carleton Savage, a Maine native. To say we enjoyed ourselves would be the understatement of the year---we enjoyed every second of it.
Without a doubt the highlight of the fun part of the summer was a nasty hurricane that slammed into the Maine coast. The winds blew everything that wasn't tied down ashore or out to sea. Many of those "things" were Lobster Pots. The shore line was mostly irregular and smoothed granitic rock outcrop. After the storm all along that rocky shore were storm-tossed lobster pots. And in most of those tossed-up pots were wiggly, big-clawed lobsters and still alive---feast makers if there ever was such a thing. And, according to Professor Savage, they would be considered salvage---anyone could harvest them. And boy we did.
The motel we stayed in had a special lobster holding well which we filled to the brim with reaching, clawing lobsters. The pots we gave back to the lobster men who were happy to just retrieve their pots. We then proceeded to have a lobster boil to end all lobster boils and gorged ourselves on those delicious but rich, rich, super-rich wonders of seafood. And, everyone of us got sick, sick and sicker. But, you guessed it, a happy sick. Not once, not twice, but three times, and still had lobsters left over. Ed and I reminisced about that lobster feast as often as we contacted each other. He will be missed not only by me but everyone who knew him. I've lost a wonderful friend.
Most geologists have a hard time with the concept of God and life after death. But, if there is such a being as God and a place such as Heaven, I know he took Ed home. And if I luck out and make it, I'll look forward to reminiscing again with Ed. My Friend.
The summer between our Junior and Senior years at Kent State we participated, along with seven other geology students, in a required class mapping geology on Mt. Desert Island, Maine. The course was taught by our leading professor at Kent, Carleton Savage, a Maine native. To say we enjoyed ourselves would be the understatement of the year---we enjoyed every second of it.
Without a doubt the highlight of the fun part of the summer was a nasty hurricane that slammed into the Maine coast. The winds blew everything that wasn't tied down ashore or out to sea. Many of those "things" were Lobster Pots. The shore line was mostly irregular and smoothed granitic rock outcrop. After the storm all along that rocky shore were storm-tossed lobster pots. And in most of those tossed-up pots were wiggly, big-clawed lobsters and still alive---feast makers if there ever was such a thing. And, according to Professor Savage, they would be considered salvage---anyone could harvest them. And boy we did.
The motel we stayed in had a special lobster holding well which we filled to the brim with reaching, clawing lobsters. The pots we gave back to the lobster men who were happy to just retrieve their pots. We then proceeded to have a lobster boil to end all lobster boils and gorged ourselves on those delicious but rich, rich, super-rich wonders of seafood. And, everyone of us got sick, sick and sicker. But, you guessed it, a happy sick. Not once, not twice, but three times, and still had lobsters left over. Ed and I reminisced about that lobster feast as often as we contacted each other. He will be missed not only by me but everyone who knew him. I've lost a wonderful friend.
Most geologists have a hard time with the concept of God and life after death. But, if there is such a being as God and a place such as Heaven, I know he took Ed home. And if I luck out and make it, I'll look forward to reminiscing again with Ed. My Friend.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Ancestors of William Thornhill, b 1735
I have searched many years for the ancestors of Revolutionary War Veteran William Thornhill, who fought at the Battle of Cowpens and who resided in Bedford County, Virginia. His wife was Sarah, maiden name unknown. They had eight children: William, Ezekial, Rachael, Briant, Edna, Sally, Leonard and James. Virtually all of the researchers I have communicated with over at least thirty years have maintained that William was born in Maryland. In fact, it was stated that William had actually made such a statement. How that could be known I have no idea. No one that I am aware of though ever found his parents there or, as a matter of fact, any where else-- up until now.
Just within the last month I received information stating that William was not born in Maryland but in Rappahannock County Virginia to Bryant Thornhill b1705 also in Rappahannock Coutny, Virginia and _______ Thompson. Bryant was the son of Bryan Thornhill, the immigrant, who was born abt 1670 in Yorkshire, England and Elizabeth Phillips.
It is interesting to note that William named his third son Briant . The second son was named Ezekial. Could that have been his wife Sarah's father's name? As an interesting aside, I've seen three spellings, Bryant and Briant and Bryan for the family name. I haven't the vaguest notion which is correct. Maybe all three were used to help determine which was which. I do suspect, however, that all will be found to have the same name, Bryant or Briant or Bryan. As the old saying goes, "you pays your money and you takes your pick."
I would really appreciate some input on this family lineage.
Just within the last month I received information stating that William was not born in Maryland but in Rappahannock County Virginia to Bryant Thornhill b1705 also in Rappahannock Coutny, Virginia and _______ Thompson. Bryant was the son of Bryan Thornhill, the immigrant, who was born abt 1670 in Yorkshire, England and Elizabeth Phillips.
It is interesting to note that William named his third son Briant . The second son was named Ezekial. Could that have been his wife Sarah's father's name? As an interesting aside, I've seen three spellings, Bryant and Briant and Bryan for the family name. I haven't the vaguest notion which is correct. Maybe all three were used to help determine which was which. I do suspect, however, that all will be found to have the same name, Bryant or Briant or Bryan. As the old saying goes, "you pays your money and you takes your pick."
I would really appreciate some input on this family lineage.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Thomas Holt, First of the line born in America
I am not absolutely certain as to what day in August of 1733, and where, Thomas Holt Sr. was born. I am certain that he and his parents, Henry and Dorcas, were present in the Episcopal, Christ Church, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania on 27 September, 1733 when he was christened at "one month of age". It is recorded in Christ Church baptismal records. My guess is he was born in Philadelphia.
As an interesting aside, Benjamin Franklin was also a parishioner at that church at that time and is buried in the church graveyard. Wouldn't it be interesting to know whether he was present at the church when the christening took place.
It's not certain how long the family remained in Philadelphia. The next recorded occurrence of the family's whereabouts was in 1735 when Dorcas, Thomas's mother, was reprimanded in court in newly founded Lancaster, Pennsylvania for beating up on one of her neighbors. It appears he had slapped around one of her female friends. That Scotch-Irish fire is still alive and well in her descendants today.
Thomas's father Henry disappeared c1735. It's not known whether he died in Pennsylvania or was lost at sea returning home to England as the inheritor of his deceased father's estate. His mother remarried in 1738 to Arthur Buchanan, another Irish immigrant. She and Arthur had five children.
On February 3, 1756 in St James Episcopal Church, Lancaster, Pennsylvania, Thomas married eighteen year old Elizabeth Mitchell, daughter of John and Jane Ross Mitchell. Thomas and Jane soon followed his mother and Arthur Buchanan to the vicinity of Carlisle, Pennsylvania. Arthur died there in 1759. Dorcas and her five Buchanan children and Thomas and his little family moved into the Pennsylvania wilderness where Lewistown is now sited on lands each had purchased from William Penn's sons.
Thomas and Elizabeth had nine children: William, November,1756; John, 1 February, 1758; Thomas Jr. April 1761; James 1762; Elizabeth 1764; Mary 1766; Jane 1769; Dorcas 13 March 1772; and, Eleanor 22 September 1774.
Over time, Thomas became influential in the area and was elected to several posts of importance in the local governing body. By mid 1776 the causative political currents that eventually fomented the American Revolutionary War against England were nearing fever pitch and the local Militia was formed. Thomas as a matter of course joined the Militia. Some time during the summer of 1777 the militia personnel were afield honing their shooting skills. According to George F. Stackpole, a descendant of Thomas, "Thomas was shooting mark with, among others, his half- brother, Robert Buchanan on what is now Dorcas Street, Lewistown, Pa. Thomas was marking shot locations. He was concealed behind the target tree, Robert was shooting and for some reason, possibly a hang fire, he was slow in getting his shot off. Thomas stepped from behind the tree, possibly to determine why his half brother hadn't shot, and was hit in the head and killed."
Elizabeth lived on in what eventually became Lewistown, Mifflin County, Pennsylvania until her death in 1798. Most of those members of the Holt and Buchanan families of the time are buried in the downtown Lewistown cemetery that is dedicated to Thomas's mother, pioneer woman Dorcas (Armstrong)(Holt) Buchanan. About fifteen years after Dorcas's death, several admirers erected a large, homemade, dark bluish-gray, shale headstone over her grave that is still standing today, 200 years after her death. Thomas and Elizabeth's graves were lost to posterity when the Erie Canal was built through the area during the first half of the 1800's.
As an interesting aside, Benjamin Franklin was also a parishioner at that church at that time and is buried in the church graveyard. Wouldn't it be interesting to know whether he was present at the church when the christening took place.
It's not certain how long the family remained in Philadelphia. The next recorded occurrence of the family's whereabouts was in 1735 when Dorcas, Thomas's mother, was reprimanded in court in newly founded Lancaster, Pennsylvania for beating up on one of her neighbors. It appears he had slapped around one of her female friends. That Scotch-Irish fire is still alive and well in her descendants today.
Thomas's father Henry disappeared c1735. It's not known whether he died in Pennsylvania or was lost at sea returning home to England as the inheritor of his deceased father's estate. His mother remarried in 1738 to Arthur Buchanan, another Irish immigrant. She and Arthur had five children.
On February 3, 1756 in St James Episcopal Church, Lancaster, Pennsylvania, Thomas married eighteen year old Elizabeth Mitchell, daughter of John and Jane Ross Mitchell. Thomas and Jane soon followed his mother and Arthur Buchanan to the vicinity of Carlisle, Pennsylvania. Arthur died there in 1759. Dorcas and her five Buchanan children and Thomas and his little family moved into the Pennsylvania wilderness where Lewistown is now sited on lands each had purchased from William Penn's sons.
Thomas and Elizabeth had nine children: William, November,1756; John, 1 February, 1758; Thomas Jr. April 1761; James 1762; Elizabeth 1764; Mary 1766; Jane 1769; Dorcas 13 March 1772; and, Eleanor 22 September 1774.
Over time, Thomas became influential in the area and was elected to several posts of importance in the local governing body. By mid 1776 the causative political currents that eventually fomented the American Revolutionary War against England were nearing fever pitch and the local Militia was formed. Thomas as a matter of course joined the Militia. Some time during the summer of 1777 the militia personnel were afield honing their shooting skills. According to George F. Stackpole, a descendant of Thomas, "Thomas was shooting mark with, among others, his half- brother, Robert Buchanan on what is now Dorcas Street, Lewistown, Pa. Thomas was marking shot locations. He was concealed behind the target tree, Robert was shooting and for some reason, possibly a hang fire, he was slow in getting his shot off. Thomas stepped from behind the tree, possibly to determine why his half brother hadn't shot, and was hit in the head and killed."
Elizabeth lived on in what eventually became Lewistown, Mifflin County, Pennsylvania until her death in 1798. Most of those members of the Holt and Buchanan families of the time are buried in the downtown Lewistown cemetery that is dedicated to Thomas's mother, pioneer woman Dorcas (Armstrong)(Holt) Buchanan. About fifteen years after Dorcas's death, several admirers erected a large, homemade, dark bluish-gray, shale headstone over her grave that is still standing today, 200 years after her death. Thomas and Elizabeth's graves were lost to posterity when the Erie Canal was built through the area during the first half of the 1800's.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Smokin' a Seegar & Chawin' Tabakee---eeeyuk--oooffff
I don’t recall how old I was, I suppose eight or nine, when I tried smoking. We were still living at Granddad Holt's house so it was before 1936. Bob Buckley had gotten several cigars and a partial pack of Mail Pouch chewing tobacco from his father’s supply and came and got me. We went down over the hill to the spring house that covered the spring that at one time supplied the family with fresh water. We crawled up on the roof for some reason or the other for our great adventure.
Bob had smoked before so he started on the stogie and gave me the Mail Pouch for openers. He showed me how to form a plug and put it in my mouth, which I did. The stuff had a sweet, not totally unpleasant taste and made spit real fast. I "splooshed" a few streams of juice off the roof and decided, heck what’s the big deal, and ask Bob for a puff on his cigar. He obliged by giving me one of my own. He lit it for me and I began to puff, choked, gasped for air, then swallowed smoke, tobacco, juice and all. Bob thought that was real funny. All of a sudden I felt dizzy, so dizzy in fact, I couldn’t stand up. So I slowly collapsed down on the roof with my head hanging over the side and began heaving, and heaving and heaving some more until I was sure everything including my toenails would soon go over the side. I couldn't stop. I just wretched and wretched and wretched some more.
Bob got scared and ran up the hill and brought Mom down. By the time she got there I had, at last, stopped heaving and recovered somewhat. Although, I guess I was whiter than the provervbial ghost and more than a bit "willowie" on my feet. Boy did she ever give Bob a reaming. I don’t know whether she ever told his parents, but one thing I do know, he never offered me a "seegar" or a "chaw" of tobacco again. I owe him a debt of gratitude for that experience. I never tried smoking or chewing tobacco again, right up to now.
Bob had smoked before so he started on the stogie and gave me the Mail Pouch for openers. He showed me how to form a plug and put it in my mouth, which I did. The stuff had a sweet, not totally unpleasant taste and made spit real fast. I "splooshed" a few streams of juice off the roof and decided, heck what’s the big deal, and ask Bob for a puff on his cigar. He obliged by giving me one of my own. He lit it for me and I began to puff, choked, gasped for air, then swallowed smoke, tobacco, juice and all. Bob thought that was real funny. All of a sudden I felt dizzy, so dizzy in fact, I couldn’t stand up. So I slowly collapsed down on the roof with my head hanging over the side and began heaving, and heaving and heaving some more until I was sure everything including my toenails would soon go over the side. I couldn't stop. I just wretched and wretched and wretched some more.
Bob got scared and ran up the hill and brought Mom down. By the time she got there I had, at last, stopped heaving and recovered somewhat. Although, I guess I was whiter than the provervbial ghost and more than a bit "willowie" on my feet. Boy did she ever give Bob a reaming. I don’t know whether she ever told his parents, but one thing I do know, he never offered me a "seegar" or a "chaw" of tobacco again. I owe him a debt of gratitude for that experience. I never tried smoking or chewing tobacco again, right up to now.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
STARTING UP AGAIN----HONEST
I have no excuse for being away from my blog so long, only an explanation—It’s been brutally hot in these parts this summer, even though we live at 5200'. Hot summer heat has always enervated me. So why do I live here? Good question. Up until recently, all my immediate family lived in Arizona. Also, Genie teaches in the Wickenburg School District. But believe me, during the summer, she would rather be some place else—around Yellowstone and Grand Teton Parks National Parks.. We both like Montana and Northern Wyoming. Especially in the summer and fall. We’re devoted fly fishing fans and it’s hard to beat the areas in and around the two parks. In fact, we lived in Bozeman, Montana several years trying to get a magazine off the ground servicing the motels and hotels around the two Parks. And boy did we love the fishing. Unfortunately, we decided after 18 months that part of the franchise conditions were just not to our liking so we dropped the franchise.
Enough crying—on with the blog. With a little luck and the “Lord willin and the creek don’t run dry,” I’m going to try and meet a twice-a-week publishing schedule. Until I get rolling that schedule is going to work me “ah” mite hard. So please bear with me.
I’d like to toss the ball into your court a little. I had plenty of visitors to the blog but very few comments pro or con. I was hoping for a bit of participation from the blog readers; Could you do this family or that family or, did you know gr gr granny had this funny thing happen to her, or, flesh it out more, or, I did or didn’t like it because----I’d really appreciate reader participation. I know, it’s my blog and it’s up to me to carry the ball. I will but I sure would like to hear from you,
That old Pennsylvania Bugger livin’ in Arizona, Bob
Enough crying—on with the blog. With a little luck and the “Lord willin and the creek don’t run dry,” I’m going to try and meet a twice-a-week publishing schedule. Until I get rolling that schedule is going to work me “ah” mite hard. So please bear with me.
I’d like to toss the ball into your court a little. I had plenty of visitors to the blog but very few comments pro or con. I was hoping for a bit of participation from the blog readers; Could you do this family or that family or, did you know gr gr granny had this funny thing happen to her, or, flesh it out more, or, I did or didn’t like it because----I’d really appreciate reader participation. I know, it’s my blog and it’s up to me to carry the ball. I will but I sure would like to hear from you,
That old Pennsylvania Bugger livin’ in Arizona, Bob
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