Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts

Saturday, October 5, 2013

Salem, Massachusetts, My Ninth Great-Grandmother and The Original Mean Girls

You never know who you're going to discover when you go ancestor hunting!

A few months ago I was researching my New England ancestors and was astounded, dumbfounded and speechless when I found Sarah Towne Bridges Cloyes, my ninth great-grandmother.

Home of my 9th great-grandmother, Sarah Towne Bridges Cloyes and her 2nd husband Peter Cloyes


I wasn't thrilled or happy when I read her history. You see, Salem, Massachusetts was a scary place to live back in the 1690s. And my 9th great-grandmother was accused and tried of practicing witchcraft during the notorious Salem Witchcraft Trials. Her two sisters, Rebecca Nurse and Mary Esty were tragically accused, tried and hung.  Fortunately, Sarah's (2nd) husband, Peter Cloyes, proved to be loyal and brave. He helped Sarah escape from jail and led her to a safe place, a cave, where they lived until the hysteria was over.



When I discovered Sarah my first thought was, "this would make a great Halloween story for my blog!" I was immediately ashamed of myself. It is so wrong to make light of something so serious and something so scary and to use it for my own benefit. Three hundred years and many generations later, Sarah's 9th great-granddaughter felt her anguish and helplessness at the unfit judicial system that existed during this time.

Deposition against Sarah Towne Bridges Cloyes

There have been many stories written and movies made about the notorious Salem Witchcraft Trials. And there have been many theories about the reason why it all began in the first place. After researching and reading I have decided it was out of ignorance, jealousy, issues within the church and boredom. People are not so different these days. Salem was settled by Puritans, but my research indicates they weren't so pure. There were arguments within the town. Some families had more land, possessions and influence than others and this led to jealousy. And the teenage girls who accused Sarah and many other people of practicing witchcraft were the Original Mean Girls and bored little drama queens. I've always said, "If it's born with an ovary, there's bound to be drama." It was true in the 1690s and it's still true today.

You can find a lot of information about Salem, Massachusetts on the internet.  Because of the witchcraft trials it's become a tourist destination and I intend to visit it one day. Not to "celebrate" the trials, but to honor to my ninth great-grandmother, Sarah. I've read so much about her and her sisters and each time the writers speak of their good character.

From The American Genealogist (pub. 1958), Volume 23 , page 205:
....the three daughters (of William and Joanne Blessing Towne), Rebecca Nurse, Mary Esty and Sarah Cloyes gained a tragic prominence in one of the most unhappy chapters of Salem's history, the witchcraft delusions.  The story has been told many times, but always the nobility of character of the three sisters gains our admiration and respect.

From The Essex (Massachusetts) Genealogist, Volume 23, page 238:
Mary Esty was condemned on September 9, 1692, and it was while she was awaiting execution that she wrote her "humble petition" to Judge William Phipps, the judge and the bench in Salem. It is one of the most touching documents of the year 1692.  She wrote in part, "I petition to your honors not for my own life, for I know I must die and my appointed time is set, but for others, that if it be possible no more innocent blood may be shed." And in fact after the September 22, 1692 hanging of Mary Esty and seven others, there were no more executions for witchcraft in New England.

Eventually, the witchcraft hysteria subsided, but only when the Governor's wife was accused. The Original Mean Girls later apologized for their accusations. How they lived with themselves after causing so much death, pain and hurt is beyond me. So many innocent people lost their lives during this frightening time of early American history.

PBS produced an excellent movie entitled "Three Sovereigns for Sarah" in which Vanessa Redgrave portrays my ninth great-grandmother, Sarah Towne Bridges Cloyes. I would recommend this movie if you are interested in the Salem Witchcraft Trials. I've inserted a clip from the movie and the scene is the hanging of Sarah Good (1st woman) and my 8th grand-aunt, Sarah Cloyes sister, Rebecca Nurse. It's not for the faint-hearted and I actually shed a few tears for this poor soul.




Here's the ancestry line-up:
 
Sarah Towne Bridges Cloyes b.1636 in Yarmouth, England d. 1703 Massachusetts Colony
 

Sarah's daughter: Hannah Bridges Barton b. 1669 d. 1727 Massachusetts Colony
 
Hannah's son: Elisha Barton b. 1701 d. 1776 Massachusetts Colony
 
Elisha's son: David Barton b. 1739 d. 1833 Massachusetts Colony and U.S.A. (Revolutionary War Patriot)
 
David's daughter: Lucina Barton Burchard b.1768 Granby, Massachusetts d.1854 New York 
 
Lucina's son: Horace Burchard b.1801 Massachusetts d.1885 New York 
 
Horace's son: Hamilton Burchard b.1828 New York d.1906 Tennessee
 
Hamilton's son: Henry Franklin Burchard b.1864 Tennessee d.1903 Alabama (coal-mining accident)
 
Henry's  son: Grant Warren Burchard b.1893 d.1939 ( tree limb fell on him 2 weeks after his wife's death) 
 
Grant's son and my Papaw: Thurston Claude Burchard b.1913 d.1984
 
Thurston's daughter and my Sweet Little Momma: Alyne Burchard Parker b. 1934
 
Me-Shelia

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
 
The Governor of Massachusetts, Jane Swift approved a bill that exonerated the accused "witches". This was on Halloween 2001, which seems like a stunt to me, instead of a heartfelt righting of a wrong.
 

Sarah's Family History

The is really a good movie! I checked it out from the local library.
 
Thanks for reading my blog.
Shelia

Saturday, October 22, 2011

Fall Break Camping 2011 Part 1: Two Grandparents, Three Children and Two Pugs in an Itty-Bitty Camper

Fall is my favorite season for many reasons. Here's one:

Our grandchildren. Meet Curly Girly and Messy Boy. And Curly Girly's BFF.
Hub and I enjoy their company very much and every year during their Fall Break we take them camping. Fall Creek Falls State Park is our favorite place to go.

Messy Boy can hardly wait to ride his bicycle around the campground when he wakes up. He doesn't even bother to change out of his pajamas!

Meanwhile, in the Itty-Bitty Camper, Curly Girly, BFF and Two Pugs are finding it difficult to awaken.

They are finally persuaded by a cup of hot chocolate. Now you know why we call her Curly Girly.


Curly Girly and BFF have taken over the pancake breakfast. Curly Girly pours while BFF waits with the spatula.

Pancakes and sausages are the perfect camping breakfast.
Especially if you've been riding a bicycle all morning!
May your day be filled with peace, love and joy,
A Very Happy Appalachian Granny





Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Talkin' on the Porch

Back then I thought ever'body talked like us.
I'd heard the same kind of talkin' ever since I was born,
and then settin' on the porch in the evenin' with Daddy and Momma,
Mamaw and Papaw, Aints and Uncles, all talkin' and tellin' stories.

Us kids would play in the yard ketchin' lightnin' bugs, or ridin'
our bicycles aroun' the house. The grownups would set on the porch
and thay'd start talkin' and then thay'd all laugh. I'd ride my bicycle close
to the porch and I'd wonder what thay was'a laughin' at.

Well, the sun would start to go down over the mountain and I'd act
like I was gettin' tard. I'd go set beside my Momma or one'a my Aints
on the settee. I'd lay my head in thayr lap and close my eyes and listen
to them and I thought ever'body talked thataway, rich and hearty, funny and wise.

"They was a snake in the outhouse he took a hoe to it, everwhat happened to them people
that lived up the road a piece, the jarflys are loud this summer, how big'a mess'a beans
did you git outta that pokeful, them Kennedy's, I cleaned all the winders t'day,
I'm a'goin' to trade t'mar do you need to go, somethin's dead somewheres I can smell the kyarn."

"The truth'll stand when the world falls, the kids gommed up the kitchen right after I cleaned it up,
George Wallace, Gov'ner of Alabama, and we might could tare that part'a the floor up and put new down,that was some good okry we had for supper, Martin Luther King, them Beatles from England. Hey kids! stay away from the road now, and don't be ridin' so fast off that sidewalk."

"I couldn't git to sleep last night to save my life, my piller felt like it was full of rocks,
He got $2 in the mail today with a note sayin' I'm sorry I stole your dictionary when we was in school no it wadn't signed, once I found all my Christmas presents and then told Mother ever'thing I wanted and she asked me you've been lookin' ain't ye? C'mere kids and getchuns a banana popsicle."

Sometimes the talkin' would stop and it'd get real still
and I'd hear the Fox family that lived on the other road, settin' on thay're porch.
The night air carryin' their laughin' and talkin' and I reckon that was a 'nother reason
I thought ever'body talked like we did.

Then I got big and found out right fast that not ever' body did.
Thay're was no invitation to 'pull 'y self up a cheer and set down'.
And you ain't likely to get nowhere much if you say 'I reckon', or 'I'd druther not',
or the worst of all 'yuns'. It's all right to say ya'll, but don't say yuns or people with think your ignert.

Leave your native tongue at home, as hearty and rich as it is, you got t'leave it on the porch where
it belongs and talk homogonized talk out in the world. It's as bland as unsalted butter, but
it's 'acceptable' and nobody will take you serious if you spit out 'yuns' or tell somebody
'you look awful nice t'day' or let's go git us a cole drank'a water.

But it still sounds like honey to me, smooth and golden, like them evenin's I spent listenin'
to all that talk and not knowin' that ever'body didn't talk thataway and I feel right sorry
for them. Nobody much sits on the porch now anyways and kids don't play outside
but we all got cell phones and contact lists so I reckon kids'll be remembering about that in 50 years.

Sunday, July 17, 2011

A Special Birthday Post for Our Son

Once upon a time, 34 years ago, a little boy was born. When his Momma kissed him for the first time she saw two big dimples appear in his cheeks. His Daddy reached for him when the nurse brought him to the waiting room because he could not wait to hold him.

His Daddy and Momma were very happy and loved the little boy very much. There were three of them and they were a family.

The little boy learned how to make faces. 

And to sit up straight in his chair.

The little boy's Daddy and the little boy's Momma loved him so much. He got all their love because he was their only little boy.  

The little boy grew older and he became a Boy Scout.  The little boy's Daddy and Momma went to every meeting with him.

 The little boy had a birthday. Every year he got a special cake.


The little boy loved animals and always had a pet.  

One year for Christmas he got a Karate Kid headband and a Three Stooges book.  Christmas was always exciting for the little boy and his Daddy and Momma. There were three of them, and they were a family. 

One day the little boy cut his hair. He took the scissors and cut a chunk of hair above his forehead. And then he put a bow on the cat's head. 

He rode his bicycle a lot and he was very good at it!!! His Daddy surprised him one year with a very special bicycle for his birthday.  

He liked to hang around with his Daddy and his Daddy liked to hang around with him. They were the Big Bud/Little Bud combo. 

He grew a green mustache and beard. 

And then the little boy had another birthday and another special cake!!!! 

And once he even wore a suit!!!! But just once!!


He went on lots of vacations with his family. 

And he was proud to be from Tennessee!

As he got older, he still liked hanging around his Daddy and Momma. There was just the three of them for a long time and he got all their love because he was their only little boy. 

And then one day the little boy, who wasn't a little boy anymore, but a young man, met a lovely young woman. They fell in love and got married. And the young man's Daddy and Momma were very happy for their young man and they loved the young woman very much too. 

And the young man and the young woman had a beautiful little girl. 

And less than a year later they had a handsome little boy. 
 The little boy who blessed his Daddy's and Momma's life 34 years ago is now a husband, a father and fine young man. He is loving, kind, big-hearted, funny, intelligent and thoughtful and his Daddy and Momma want him to know how much they love him.

Happy Birthday Son.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Then and Now, Graham Road


My family has lived in East Tennessee many years. In fact, except for the first couple years of marriage, I have lived on the same road all my life. It's old family property that was given to my maternal great-grandparents, George and Ida Graham, by the McDonald family.

George (Pappy) and Ida (Mommie) had seven children. Ethel, Alice, Lester, Trewhitt, Ruth, Georgia and Granville. Granville worked for the Home Stores, a chain of small markets owned by the McDonald family. He was killed in a work-related accident on December 23, 1933 and Mr. McDonald gave Pappy sixty two acres as a death settlement. Granville was a young man of 25 years and his death hurt his family very much.
My great-grandmother, Ida Emerling Graham standing in front of her home on Graham Road.  

Now the road I live on is called Graham Road, named after my great-grandparents, but over seventy-five years ago, there was just a little wagon trail meandering through the sixty-two acres. No houses, no electric lines, no city water.  Pappy divided sixty acres between his remaining six children and kept two acres for himself.  There was a tiny little house on his two acres and he and Mommie lived there until he built their house. 

Ida Emerling Graham

These pictures were taken sometime in the early 1950s. Pappy died when I was just a baby, so I have no memories of him, but I do have memories of visiting Mommie. I remember Pappy's garden spot and the well, with its windlass, bucket, dipper and fresh cold water.  Behind their home was a grapevine, an outbuilding, and behind the outbuilding was the outhouse. I have about a 5 second memory of staying with Mommie. She was babysitting me and I remember standing on a short stool in her kitchen, watching her throw a piece of wood in her cookstove. After she threw it in she put her arms around me and gently got me off the stool.

George Graham in front of the house he built on Graham Road. The little dirt road that runs alongside the house went to his neighbor's, Lorenzo Newman.

Eventually, all but one of George and Ida's children sold their land. Their youngest daughter, Ruth Graham Burchard, my Mamaw, lived on Graham Road until she went to Heaven six months after my Papaw, in 1985.  The ten acres given to my grandmother was increased as surrounding property became available and now Ruth's daughters, and a few grandchildren and great-grandchildren, live on Graham Road.

Graham Road was a quiet little country road when I was growing up. Hardly any cars passed our house and when one did, we ran to the front window to see who it was! We fell asleep at night listening to the call of whipporwills and awakened to the sound of Bessie, my grandparent's milk cow, mooing in the pasture between our homes.   My brothers and I would play all day, stopping only to drink a glass of KoolAid, or to sit on the porch and read or daydream. I can remember Momma telling us to be quiet, not to holler or talk loud,  when a funeral was taking place in the cemetary nearby.  

Until the early 1980s, Graham Road began at Back Valley Road at it's west end and ended about four miles to the east at State Highway 27. I can remember at least a dozen or more homes scattered on the four miles of curves, steep hills and dark hollows.  Graham Road had grown from a short, rough wagon trail to a four-mile paved road in less than 50 years.  

My great-grandmother Ida finally came to live with her youngest daughter Ruth, my Mamaw. Her old home was sold and my Daddy's brother, my Uncle Buddy,  lived there with his family for a few years.  Again, Pappy's garden spot flourished and the little old house was filled with family and laughter.  

It is said that you can't stop progress. Progress came to Graham Road in the early 1980s in the form of State Highway 111. 


 My great-grandparents property was purchased by the State of Tennessee.  Their homeplace....home, garden spot, outbuilding, outhouse and grapevine.... was torn down, covered with earth and rock, and eventually asphalt.  Thousands of cars and trucks have traveled this road since it was opened over 25 years ago.


 I took these pictures standing on the off ramp of Highway 111, where my great-grandparent's house, garden spot, outbuilding, outhouse and grapevine used to be.   


Same place, different time.

Graham Road was rerouted during the construction of Highway 111. No longer does it lead from Back Valley Road to Highway 27. It's only a little over a mile long now. 

There have been a lot of changes in the past 78 years. Looking at these pictures, it's hard to believe it's the same place. I miss the quietness of the old Graham Road. The whipporwills left a long time ago and now if we ran to the front window every time a car passed, we'd be running to the window all day. Who would have ever thought that a mile long road, that ends at a deadend, would be so busy? 

I have chosen a few more pictures from my Momma's picture box that I'll be posting in the next few weeks. I hope to do more Then and Now pictures, so I hope you'll come back to visit with me.    

Shelia  
 

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

My Daddy

Going through old family pictures can bring a smile to your face, or tears to your eyes. Sometimes both.  I've been looking through the pictures my Momma gave me and I've found a great many pictures of my Daddy.  And I have had smiles and tears looking at them.

My Daddy was a great man.

Daddy, Momma, David, Joyce, Shelia and Larry

In my mind's eye I can still see my Daddy, walking in front of me and Momma and my oldest brother.  His white t-shirt bobbed along in the dusk of the evening, as he carried my baby brother home.  Summer evenings were spent on my grandparent's porch, until the robins called to each other from the yard and the trees. It was their bedtime, and it was getting close to ours.  Daddy always walked a few feet ahead of us, watching out for a car coming over the hill, or a rock or hole in the road we might stumble upon. He was always watching out for Momma, and watching out for his kids, even after we were grown. And then he watched out for his grandkids. And then his great-grandkids.

After I married and made my own home, he would call me daily, sometimes three or four times a day, sometimes while I was at work, just to see how my day was going, just because I was on his mind, just because he loved me. 

Sometimes he would tell me of a good deal he'd gotten at the store that morning. He always appreciated a good deal.  Or he'd tell me what he and Momma were going to do that day.

His wit was proof of a razor-sharp,keen intelligence. If you were around my Daddy for just a little while, you'd laugh because he had a different way of looking at life. And he could solve any problem using good common sense. He always worked hard, but was never one to follow money. He was content with Momma, his kids and a comfortable home. We never went without.

What he had could not be bought. He had the good simple life down to an art form.

Oh, but I can still see him, walking in front of us, carrying the least one of us, and watching out for all of us. He did that up until his last breath.

He has gone a few steps ahead of us, to a place where we all must go. I miss him so much and I can't write any more about that. It hurts too much.


I treasure this picture of my Daddy. He loved to work in the yard and could grow anything.

The sweet-looking little boy in the front is Daddy. The older boy is his brother, my Uncle Buddy. To Daddy's right is his sister Imogene. His sisters Robbie and Glenna are in the back. Two younger sisters, Mary Lynn and Carolyn Sue are yet to be born.  These children were scattered like kittens from a box after their mother died. The two youngest girls were raised by an aunt, and the others found homes where they could. Daddy found a home with his Aunt Molly Lively. My cousin Lloyd Lively said he can still remember seeing Daddy walking to their house. He was just a little boy then, maybe 8 or 9, looking for a place to live.  I have but a few memories of Aunt Mollie, but I love her for taking my Daddy in and giving him a home and love.

 Me, Daddy and Larry in May 1964
This picture was taken after my Aunt Glenna's funeral. In the front are my aunts, Mary Lynn, Carolyn Sue and Robbie. Glenna's husband Uncle Robert, my Daddy and Uncle Buddy in the back. Daddy and Buddy were not only brothers, but best friends. 

Even though they didn't really share a normal childhood together, they kept in touch and talked to each other a lot. They loved each other. The five sisters and two brothers, who were scattered like kittens from a box, are all gone now.

But, I can still see my Daddy, walking in front of us...watching out for us.......

Monday, January 17, 2011

A Visit to a Farm in Gruetli-Laager, Tennessee

Chuck, my Sweet Little Momma, our grandchildren and I visited a farm in Gruetli-Laager today.

The small town of Gruetli-Laager is located on the southern portion of the Cumberland Plateau in Tennessee.  

It was founded in 1869 by Swiss immigrants who established a farming community. You can read more about Gruetli-Laager here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gruetli-Laager,_Tennessee

One hundred Swiss families purchased farmland, sight unseen. When they arrived they found the land was still in timber. No fields. No outbuildings. No money. Their first crop of hay was cut with kitchen knives because they had no money for tools. 

 You can read more about the Swiss immigrants here:

There are two original Swiss farms remaining in Gruetli-Laager and one of them belongs to my Uncle George and Aunt Martha. 

Snow from last week's snowfall covered the roads and pastures at the farm.


The outbuildings at the farm are the original outbuildings. They are over 125 years old. 

 LuLu the donkey loves my Aunt Martha. So does Arnold the dog. My Aunt Martha has a soft heart for animals.

My Uncle George carries round bales of hay to the pasture for the cows.

 The welcoming committee greeted us as soon as we arrived.

This is an outbuilding my grandchildren were totally unfamiliar with. Raise your hand if you know what it is.


The barns, corncrib and wellhouse are a soft, weathered gray. 

Ahhhh, how lovely she is. 
Cows always like to have their picture taken. This one is particularly photogenic.

 My granddaughter fed LuLu the donkey a handful of crackers.
And so did my Grandson.

 LuLu wanted a closeup. I couldn't refuse her.
 
 The cows demonstrated how they walk around in the pasture.

And did I mention Arnold, the Farm Dog, is going to have puppies? 
 Hub stands outside the Farmhouse.....


...while my Sweet Little Momma warms inside.

Our last stop was the hog pen.

They were really busy and didn't take time to watch us leave.

We enjoyed our visit to the old Swiss farm on this cold January day in Appalachia.