Out of Place

My Campbell relatives have been very instrumental in helping to found this country. I am very proud to say that they are part of my family. But there is always that one person in a family that makes the rest of us look bad.  This week I am going to write about an ancestor that I found in a place in which I never expected. Prison. 

His name was John Richard Campbell (1891-1939). When John was twenty-six years old in 1917 he enlisted in the military and was discharged in 1918 during WWI. According to the census he had various occupations from working in a coal mine to carpentry work. 

In 1922 my great great uncle married Mary Bearden, a widow and lived in Chattanooga, Tennessee. Mary passed away in 1926 and that is when John's life started going downhill. 

By 1929, John was "peddling dope" (morphine) on the streets and tried to sell the drugs to a police officer. Whoops! Needless to say, he served time for this crime. 

I guess John didn't learn his lesson. In 1934, he was again in jail for pick pocketing a man. John stole a bank book containing 55.25 in cash and three blank checks. With one of the checks my great great uncle tried to buy a suit. This time John was sentenced for larceny and taken to a workhouse called Silverdale. He was sentenced for eleven months and twenty nine days. 

This man must have had a cement head because John just didn't learn his lesson from being in prison twice before. I guess three times is a charm. This time John was arrested for attempted burglary in April 1938. Again, John was sent to Silverdale workhouse and sentenced again for eleven months and twenty nine days. 

However, there was no getting out of the workhouse this time. On January 17, 1939 John, 47, was hit in the head with a shovel by Noah Moore, who was only nineteen at the time. The two men had a fight in the county gravel pit in East Chattanooga. John passed away on the 28th from cranial injuries. 

I wish that I knew more of my great great uncles back story. It would be interesting to know why he chose his life of crime after Mary passed away. 

Favorite Photo

If I could choose a favorite photograph of one of my ancestors it would be of my grandfather Daniel Smith with his wife Myrtle. He is wearing pants that are so large that suspenders are needed to keep them on with a hat while holding a pistol which he pointed at my grandmother who is wearing a suit jacket and tie that is a bit small. Maybe they were pretending to be Bonnie and Clyde. I never knew that Grandpa could be funny. 

I think that this picture was taken in the 1930's in Tennessee. 

What Ancestor would I want to meet if I could?

 I have joined a group that wants us to talk about our ancestors every week.  This weeks assignment is to ask ourselves which ancestor would we want to meet. Of all of the people in my family tree, I would have to say that it would be either my grandmother Azzie Lee Bolden or Myrtle Bauldwin.  I am envious of those people who have enjoyed the presence of a grandmother in their lives. 

Myrtle Bauldwin 

Azzie Lee Bolden

                                                                 

Both of them passed away long before I ever got here on this plane. My parents suffered the loss of their mothers before they reached their teenage years. The longing for a mother's love followed my parents throughout their lives, especially for my mother.  

John Campbell and Azzie Lee Bolden Campbell

I've often wondered what kind of women they were.  What kind of personality did they have? Did they laugh? Were they good women? Were they kind? Were they women of faith?  I will never know. 

Myrtle Bauldwin Smith

I have asked relatives what kind of character these women had, but no one can tell me about them. Those relatives who knew my grandmothers are long gone.

If I could talk to either of them I would say: " I love you, even if I didn't ever get to feel your touch or see your smile and hear the sound of your voice. I still love you. I miss your presence that I could have had in my life." 

Old

 I have been working almost frantically trying to catch up on my genealogy research that I have missed since we have been working an enormous amount of overtime.  Last weekend, I spent nearly all day Sunday researching as if I didn't have time to waste. I knew that if I stopped there would be another delay in completing my desired goal for the day. 

What I have been doing is researching a grandfather and grandmother, then research all of their children. Each grandfather and grandmother as a couple has their own book. To date, I have 19 books. Then I decided to include pictures of the people that I am researching. It is nice to see what someone looked like instead of just gathering dates and other facts. Afterall, they were actual people and not just data to input into the computer. 

This evening, I was looking through a bunch of old pictures that I had printed to put into a scrapbook. I have been doing this in conjunction with my family research.  The picture above was in a drawer for a while. It is of my great grandfather Joseph Rufus Smith and his wife Bettie Mae Castle along with their children. Then it dawned on me that my grandfather, Daniel Boone Smith, was the little nine year old boy on the extreme left in the first row. He didn't change much over the years and I could tell it was him right away because of the look on his face and especially the ears. My Dad had those same ears.  

As a kid, I thought that he was old. He only lived to be 60. Now I am that age and wonder if my nieces and nephews think that I am old too?  I'm sure that they do. Inside I feel the same as I always have. The soul doesn't age, just the body. A few of my finger joints in my hands are now starting to enlarge where arthritis has settled and I often accomplish things at a slower pace than before. L'Oreal keeps the gray hair at bay until I am ready to let it all go. 

I love looking at old pictures and try to visualize in my head what those people were like. Sometimes, I wish to be able to go back in time and visit those people who helped me to my place here on earth. Don't you?

The Importance of Knowing your Birthdate or any date

 

My great-great grandmother was Sarah Jane Bailey. She lived in Hamblen County, Tennessee in the mid 1800's. She met and married my great-great grandfather Pleasant Thomas Smith. My Ancestors lived in rural Tennessee and the need for such information was basically nonexistent. When Sarah was applying for her widow's pension after Tom passed away, it was required that she give her date of birth. She didn't know it.  Sarah contacted her brother David for a transcription of the page in the family bible that listed all of the births for the Bailey family. Then she gave the information to the government. 

Back then how important was it to know your birthday or any any date?  You didn't need to know it, that is, until you really, really needed something, like a pension for time served in the war. I am not sure that people had identification cards like we do today. A person could actually change their name and go about their business as usual without having to do anything legal. I came across this several times while doing genealogical research. 

I can understand if a child was adopted and not having access to their birth certificate and not knowing their date of birth. But, there are countries who don't celebrate birthdays and the average person doesn't know when they were born.  I just watched a video (2019) about Yemen. When the interviewer asked random people (men) on the street how old they were all but one said that they didn't know. The reasoning behind this is that a birthdate was never celebrated and was viewed as unimportant. Where I live there are a lot of Burmese and working in a hospital I see a lot of January 1st birthdates.  Not knowing a date of birth is still an issue for various places in the world today. 

The celebration of one's birthday began in Roman culture. A cake was baked to bring good wishes. Then the celebration spread to the west, which was embraced as a tradition. I don't know about you, but I rather like the idea of knowing when I was born. 

Benjamin Borden...my 8th great grandfather

One has to be ready to receive a new relative to their family tree just like a newborn child. All of the excitement is there because they are new to you.  I try to research as much as I can on the previous generation in order to move on to the next or basically back in time. 

I feel as if I have won the genealogy lottery.  As an amateur genealogist, I collect a lot of names and data hoping to be able to research them when I have time. I knew Benjamin Borden's name but didn't know about him until just recently.  For the longest time he was just a name that I have connected to one of my relatives who married into my Campbell family.  

Benjamin was one of two men who helped to populate the Virginia colony.  The other man was William Beverly.  Borden had land (92,100 acres) that was granted to him from the King. Hence, it is known as the Borden's Great Spring Tract. It was exciting to find out that one of forebears was instrumental in the founding of this country.  

Here is where it starts for me:  

Jacob Peck came to America from Ebingen, Wurttemberg, Germany and eventually settled in Augusta County, Virginia. Wurttemberg is located about 50 miles north of Switzerland and about 50 miles east of France. It nestles down between the mountains of the northern encampment of the Alps in a narrow valley through which flows the River Schmie. It is in the uplands of Germany. The Schmie River is a tributary at the western extremity of the Danube.

Jacob's name was really Johann Jakob Von Beck, I have seen it also without Von included in his name. When he arrived to the Colonial colonies, Jacob changed his name to fit in with the Scotch/Irish that were numerous to the area of his new home.  He had been living in Frederick County, Maryland for at least seven years by the time he signed his Oath of Allegiance in 1747.  

Eventually, Jacob moved to Virginia and bought acreage in the Beverly land grant area of Augusta County. It was there that he met Lydia Borden, the daughter of  Benjamin Borden.  From Benjamin's will it was estimated that he owned 120,000 acres of land, including several tracts on the lower forks of the James River. When Benjamin passed away there were legal disputes over surveys and Borden lands which were not resolved until 1897. This was due to Lydia's brother selling off land without going through the proper channels. Lydia was promised a portion of land and didn't live to see the fruition of her claim to it. 

I have still not filled you in on how my family is connected to the Peck's.  One of Jacob and Lydia's Children was Adam Peck. He was a member of the House, 1st & 2nd General Assemblies 1796-1799. As a member of the 1st assembly of the state, he helped draft the Constitution of the State of Tennessee. He was one of the founding fathers of Knoxville, Tennessee. Peck came to Tennessee before 1792, and was the first settler of Mossy Creek, now Jefferson City. Jefferson City was originally named for a creek...Mossy Creek. Adam had a daughter named Jane, who married Archibald James Campbell my fifth great-grandfather.  

I cannot tell you how exciting it was to find out that I have ancestors who were not only good people, but without them this country might have been a bit different without their efforts.  

Source: Library of Congress, Carte de la Virginie et du Maryland (1757)

I am a Smith, without a doubt!

Sarah Jane Bailey Smith and her granddaughter Rachel

I have been trying to find confirmation that I am the great-great granddaughter of Pleasant Thomas Smith of Hamblen County, Tennessee for a very long time. I mean a really, really long time. Oh,  I have the names of the Smith's and their children it is just that there was a marriage issue, children being born before one actually took place, and a child changing his name from one census to another. 

On paper it didn't look promising that I was related to the man that all of my Smith relatives believed we were connected to because my great grandfather Joseph Rufus Smith was born when his mother wasn't married.  In those days, a woman was ostracized for having a child out of wedlock.  

Pleasant, who was called Tom, was married until 1880 when his first wife, Mary Jane, passed away.  In 1871, Joseph was born to Sarah Jane Bailey. Ironically, the Smith and Bailey family lived next door to each other in Hamblen County for a long time.  

The first time I found Joseph he was listed with his mother and her new husband Duke Manes on the 1880 Census for Hamblen County.  But Joseph was listed as a Bailey and he was 8 years old. Duke Manes and Sarah Bailey were married December 27, 1875. On the Next Census, in 1900, Joseph was now listed as a Smith. By this time Sarah had divorced Duke Manes and married Tom Smith on December 24, 1887 (I'm glad that they made things right).  Duke set fire to a John A. Overholt's barn and was sent to prison.  In April of 1887, when Duke was released, Sarah divorced him. A few month's later Sarah married Tom.  I stopped researching my Smith line because I was stuck.  I had no idea who Joseph's father really was.  

Joseph with his wife Bessie and son Oscar.

I took a DNA test through Ancestry last year.  I expected my Smith quandary to be resolved, but nothing happened.  I had a first cousin and second cousin show up as a match, but that was it. Shouldn't I have matches to Pleasant's siblings?  All of my DNA circles were for my mother's side of the family.  

I then asked another cousin, who is a male Smith, to take the DNA test and I compared our DNA matches. Not long ago, I heard that 4th cousins have a common great-great grandparent.  I focused mainly on those matches with 40 CM (centimorgans) or more.  I finally found several matches to my Smith relatives, but not all with the same testing company.

On Ancestry, I found Sarah Margaret Smith, daughter of James William Smith and Elizabeth Hickey, who was Pleasant's sister.  She married a John D. Mason and they moved to Bridgeport, Alabama the same time that Joseph and his mother Sarah lived there. We share 41 CM. The person that tested was a fourth cousin. 

Next, I found another 4th cousin, on Ancestry, who is related to my great uncle Jesse Smith. We share 69 CM and he is Joseph Smith's grandson. Pleasant is his 2nd great-grandfather. 

Last weekend,  I uploaded my raw DNA results to Family Tree DNA. Yesterday, I found a match to Clemintine Overholt, formerly Smith.  She was the daughter of Samuel Barton Smith and Perlina Soloman, who is Pleasant Thomas Smith brother.  Clemintine married John Overholt, the man whose barn was burnt down by Duke Manes (Sarah's first husband). This couple also lived in Bridgeport, Alabama at the same time that Sarah and Joseph was there. We share 81 CM. 

Clementine Smith Overholt

For me, this is enough proof to proudly say that I am, without a doubt, a Smith.  Now, I can confidently add those Smith's that I was afraid to, to my family history collection.  

DNA doesn't lie, People do.

Donna, Dad, and Me

My father lost the fight in the DNA test war, but won by being a great dad for my sister.  After all, he is the only one she ever knew. The other man, well, we were told who he was thirteen years ago and the test confirmed it.  Both men have gone to the other side and are not here to defend themselves.  My mother would have a lot to explain if she were here too. But sadly, we will never know why she chose to do what she did. I guess this shows that you never really know a person, especially what goes on in their mind. 

Mom in 1964

If my mother would have never "stepped out" then I would not have a sister, at least, not this one. And I really love her. Secrets were kept back in those days to save the guilty party's reputation and they stayed with them till the grave. Unlike the way things are now. So, what do we do?  We go on with life. The same as we have been doing all of these years.  

I can now safely research my sister's biological family without fear that I am overstepping my boundary and my sister is Ok with it.  We already have a head start. 

The Secret

I read the book, "The Stranger in my Genes" by Bill Griffeth over Christmas weekend.  It was a moving story about discovering that the man who raised Bill was not his father. Bill took a DNA test at the request of his cousin. When the results came back, Bill's whole world turned upside down.  

I highly recommend reading this book because it focused on the unwelcome results of a DNA test. This is a short but intense read.  Family is the most important part of our lives and when a wrench is thrown in that we are not expecting, well, it can be so shocking that our whole existence shifts. 

Now for our story. 

Last year I had a DNA test done and I didn't expect anything to be different from what I already knew about my family history. Since that time, I have begun to attend a DNA class that meets once a month at the local library.  There are several regulars who attend that have the same story as Bill Griffeth. Sometimes the newly discovered family are welcoming and on the other hand the news is devastating. No one really knows how they would react until they are in the situation. The teacher always says: DNA never lies, people do.  

My sister sent in her sample three weeks ago. Now we must wait for the DNA to be processed.  Donna secretly hopes for different results. To be honest, I do too.

We already knew about the family secret. One evening in December 2004, my aunt called.  We chatted as usual and spent about an hour catching up on the lost years that we hadn’t heard from one another.  At one point, my sister became the topic of conversation.  Jokingly, I told her that we used to tease Donna when she was young and tell her that she was adopted. She didn’t look like me at all.  My sister has a cute little turned up nose, mine comes to a point. She has a high forehead and her shape is more like a pear while I resemble an apple (more like a pumpkin) and the hair, she has more than I ever had. 

After a somewhat long silence my aunt said, “Gina, I have something to tell you about your sister. Donna is not Charles’ daughter.” She went into great detail about my mother’s affair and then revealed the name of the man. As I listened to my aunt tell me about my mother and another man, I wept inside.  Truth had a tongue that day and my aunt was the messenger.  I listened intently as she told me the story of my mother’s infidelity.  “Don’t tell your sister, it will hurt her” was the last thing my aunt said to me before I hung up the phone.

I sat on the sofa stunned, finding it hard to let the news sink into my head.  I was 44 years old when I found out that Donna is really my half sister.  I felt betrayed by my parents, even if they meant well.  After the initial shock, the tears came and I wept for a long time. What will I say to my brother? I asked myself.  Oh God! How will I ever be able to tell my sister?  This news will break her heart. It surely has broken mine. My mind raced all night and well into the next day.  All I kept thinking about was how we were duped. How many more secrets did they keep from us?

I called my brother right away; My hands trembled as I dialed his number. When he picked up the phone, I was shaking so hard that I could barely speak. 

“Mom had an affair and Donna is not one of Dad’s children.” I told my brother.  I could tell by the gasping sound he made on the other end that he was shocked.  He asked me to repeat what our aunt said, as if he didn’t hear me the first time.  I repeated verbatim every detail.

 “Are you going to tell Donna?” he asked. “I have to,” was my reply.  “She needs to know this.  It is her right to know who her biological father is.  I just don’t know how I am going to tell her this dreadful news. God knows when the right time will be; I need to get over the shock of this myself. “ 

Many days passed, then weeks, eventually months went by without speaking a word to my sister.  I could not bring myself to upset Donna with the truth just yet.  I’m not sure if I had the strength to tell her. This task is going to be so hard for me.  My mother let us down and she was someone that we trusted with our secrets, while all along she had one herself. 

I spent many nights crying, swearing, and calling mom names.  “Why did you do this?”  I spoke into the darkness, expecting a reply, but it was strangely quiet as I listened for an answer. 

I called my cousin and she confirmed what my aunt had told me and they wondered why we didn't figure it out sooner. To be honest, we never questioned our parents. It seemed like all of our relatives knew the secret but us.  

In late August of 2005, my sister came over to spend some time with me.  We sat and chatted in the living room while drinking sweet iced tea. She told me that the children were all out of the house that evening and would be returning in a couple of days.  I thought this moment would be as good a time as any to tell my sister the news that she would not want to hear. 

“Donna, I have some bad news for you.” I said, and then I recounted the story with as much detail that I knew of the affair. She could hardly believe what I was telling her.  Her chin began to quiver as I spoke then tears filled her eyes and streamed down her cheeks. “Dad will always be my dad. Charles is my real dad.” she cried, “The other man was just a sperm donor.”  I asked her if she needed a hug.  She nodded. We embraced each other and cried for a long time. I couldn’t give her much comfort, but I could give her the truth even though it was hard for her to hear it. 

Shortly thereafter, she went home and dealt with the news in her own way.  Much like me, there was some swearing and crying, and she kept telling the man that she knew as Dad that she loved him, even if he was there only in spirit.  I am sure that he heard her and maybe cried a little himself.  After all, he stayed when he had every reason to leave but he loved his family and Dad always treated Donna like she was his daughter.

Now we wait for the DNA results...To be continued. 

Remember the Clue

The further back in time that you go the harder it is to trace your ancestors. But this last week I had a small break through in the brick wall of my genealogy research and learned a valuable lesson. Pay attention to the names in wills and on marriage certificates. 

In my mind, I could hear the words "remember the clue" from the game You Don't Know Jack as I waded through the mountainous stacks of documents that I have accumulated over the years. I sat at my desk looking through the documents on Archibald Campbell, the patriarch of my family thus far. I relied heavily on a book that I discovered written about my Campbell family and trusted the information that was in the book. That is, until now. 

Archibald Campbell (1728-1801) lived in Bedford County, Virginia. He married a woman named Elizabeth. I searched and searched for a marriage record for Archibald and Elizabeth but couldn't find anything. The numerous county boundary changes didn't help me much either. However, Elizabeth's last name was never mentioned on a document that I found until I started remembering names listed in other documents. The author of the book stated that Elizabeth was a Baker and gave information on the Baker family. There were other's who said that Elizabeth was a Beard. Over the years I collected information on both women and when I had time I would go over the information very carefully. 

I am descended from James Campbell, Archibald's first son. I have James marriage certificate to Jane Means dated April 27, 1784, Campbell County (was formed in 1782 from Bedford County), Virginia. The witnesses were Jane Means, James Robinson (Roberson), Rachel (grand-daughter of John Beard) Robinson and Elizabeth Beard.  Not a Baker was named among them. 

I have a copy of John Beard's will dated April 20, 1780, four years before the marriage of James Campbell and Jane Means, who also lived in Bedford County, Virginia. In the will the following were named: Rachel Robinson, James Robinson, Thomas McReynolds, Elizabeth Campbell (Beard), Charles Hall, James Campbell, and Archibald Campbell. It was Rachel Robinson that was the deciding factor for me.  She was listed in her grandfather's will and as a witness for James Campbell's marriage.  I didn't see any names that looked familiar in the Baker line.  

Charles Hall married Agnes Campbell, Archibald's daughter. Elizabeth Beard, was Elizabeth Campbell's mother. Thomas McReynold's was related through the marriage of Archibald's daughter Nancy who married Samuel McReynold's. 

Now, I can confidently move ahead in my search to the next generation back in time. It is imperative that there is a paper trail confirming what you believe is true. Most of all, don't trust the work of others, even if it is with good intention.  Remember the clue...

Is his name Tom or Edgar? Another name changer in the family.

'

My great uncle Thomas Woodrow Campbell had another name at birth. His life was a mystery to me for a long time.  I would search and search and couldn't find anything regarding this man. I found him with his parents William Elbert Campbell and Amanda Massey in the 1920 Census in Grundy County, Tennessee, 1930 Census in Walker County, Georgia, and the 1940 Census in Hamilton County, Tennessee.  He was listed as Tom or Thomas on each Census record.  Tom was the only child of my great-grandparents that was born in Kentucky.  My great-grandfather was a coal miner, so, this meant that they moved around a lot. William (Elbert) tried farming, but that didn't work out so well for him and he kept going back to coal mining.

Tennessee didn't start keeping birth and death records until 1910. I was hoping that Kentucky was a bit better about this issue. I put in as many combinations I could think of on Ancestry.com and nothing came up. Then I decided to omit the first name of the child but include the parents names. Et voila! I found a birth index. 

You ask why he changed his name. I asked the same question and will never know.  The thing is, this man was able to get into the army, obtain a Social Security card, and a driver's license without a valid birth certificate that matched his name.  How can people do this?  I was able to find his marriage information eventually but I still cannot find when Uncle Tom passed away. I have hope that I will someday. 

John Thomas Bolden A.K.A. Jack or was his name something else?

I know that I have shared this before but I have been tracing my ancestors for over twenty years.  It is a lot easier now that we have web sites like Ancestry, Family Search, and others.  Even with all of the information that is available the "find" can still be rather brutal.  I have sat at the computer and searched for information on one person for hours and not come up with anything. Then when I come back to look again I hit a goldmine or not. 

Here is what I had encountered over the weekend.  My grandmother was Azzie Lee Bolden, my mother's mother. She is the young woman in the far right of the picture which was taken around 1922 or 1923.  Her father was Alfred Lee Bolden, the dapper looking man standing behind her. I don't have a picture of Alfred Lee Bolden's father, John Thomas Bolden but wish that I had one. John Thomas Bolden's father was John Thomas Bolden too or should I say Bolding. The name kind of morphed as my ancestors migrated across America.  They started out Bolding and ended up Bolden when they moved. This is where things start to get tricky for me.  

John Thomas Bolden the 1st father was Jonathan Lee Bolding of Pickens County, South Carolina.  J.T. (John Thomas) was born in 1834 in the same county. John met and married Margaret White on August 9, 1855 in Pickens. He enlisted around May 15, 1861 in the Confederate army and fought with Company H, 2nd S.C. Rifles Regiment until his death on June 10, 1863.  J.T. was captured and killed by the Federals in the swamps near Suffolk, VA.  Are you with me so far? Let's continue.  

In 1870 the family decided to move to Forsyth County, Georgia.  John Thomas Bolden the 2nd went by the name of Jack. I understand that the nickname for John is Jack. Jack married Martha Fowler on October 10. 1880 in Forsyth County, Georgia. I am okay with this so far. Then I started trying to put my book in order.  Here is where I nearly lost my sanity. 

I tried to separate both of the John Thomas Bolden\Bolding from each other.  When trying to research a relatives steps I always use the Census.  In general they provide a vast amount of information, supposedly.  It really depends on the Census taker and the person providing the information. 

J.T. was living in Pickens County, S.C. in 1860 with his wife Margaret and four children.  Remember he is killed in 1863 so he will not be listed on the 1870 Census.  He is not the person I am looking for anyway, it is the second John Thomas Bolding\Bolden. In 1870 I find Margaret with four children living in Anderson, S.C. One of her children was named Jackson. Ok, I thought, this is my second John Thomas.  Then in 1880 in Forsyth County, GA Margaret has three children listed. Jackson is now listed as Andrew Jackson. Oh what the hell! I keep searching. In 1900, Margaret is living in Forysth County with her youngest son.  I couldn't find Andrew Jackson anywhere.  I found a marriage certificate for John T. Bolling and Martha Fowler in Forsyth County in 1880. I found John living with his wife in Murray County in the 1900 Census. In each Census thereafter John Thomas was either listed by John Thomas or Jack.  The key name is Jack.  He was always called by this name.  

For years I searched and searched for John Thomas when he was right under my nose all along.  This is not the first relative that changed their name that I have found in my family search and it will probably not be the last. 

P.S. I don't go by my given name either. 

Go West Jacob Routh

Jacob Routh was born in Dandridge, Jefferson County, Tennessee on December 22, 1818. Dandridge, the home of Douglas Lake, is billed as the second oldest city in the state. The Routh's descended from the Huguenots who had become Quakers by religious persuasion. 

After the death of his father in 1841, Jacob and his brother Joseph operated the farm and grist mill, raising horses and hogs to pay off the bills that their father left. In the off seasons the brothers took turns selling Currier & Ives prints, picture frames, shoes, and feathers. In 1845, Jacob built a house for his mother on the Dumplin Creek Farm. It was sold in 1851. 

Jacob heard the "Go West Young Man" call and headed to Texas October 2, 1851.  The entourage included his mother, sister Elizabeth, brother Joseph, nine year old slave Thomas. They were accompanied by Robert Fleming Campbell's family, wife Mary Ann, infant son, and six children from a previous marriage, plus an elderly slave named Aggy and another slave of whom I don't have a name.  Squire Campbell, a planter, lost all of his crops in 1850 due to a flood and felt that Texas would be a better place to live.  Both families headed west together. They arrived at their destination 45 days later. 

Jacob bought a thousand acres of land on Spring Creek paying $2.00 an acre, and built a house near present day Renner Road and Central in Richardson. While Robert built a house near where Campbell Road and Central Expressway intersect. Routh Road in Dallas is also named after Jacob. 

Love made an entrance to the scene on the long route to Texas. Jacob fell in love with Robert's daughter Lodemia Ann Campbell and they were married in 1853, and in the same year Jacob decided to become a Baptist minister.  Routh founded a church in the one-room log cabin he built for a school-house on his farm. 

Jacob and Lodemia produced nine children from their marriage. His daughter Clara said this about her father in a letter, " Father was a man of great hospitality and home was seldom without guests, sometimes friends, but often people who were passing though the country and wanted a place to stay. He took delight in experimenting with fruits, flowers, and vegetables, not minding work, or expense. He was very affectionate and devoted to his family. Father was a great believer in education and progress in all things."

Jacob Routh passed away April 30, 1879 of Tuberculosis at the age of 61.  A Pioneer who helped to make this world a better place to live in. 

Sources: 

The Jacob Routh Papers, Uniiversity of Texas at Austin

Historic Richardson by Gwyn Gillespie

Findagrave.com

Finding your Kin

It seems like I always get the genealogy bug around this time of year.  Maybe it is because we are held prisoners inside and want badly to be doing something worthwhile.  Summer is always busy running here and there, especially with my photography work and a full time job that requires chronic overtime. But in the back of my mind genealogy was always lurking in the shadows. 

Yesterday, I finished a book called Finding Family, My Search for Roots and the Secrets in my DNA by Richard Hill.  The book is about a search that lasted over 20 years for an adopted man who wanted to find his birth parents. From the moment that I started reading this memoir I had a hard time putting it down. 

The "secret" leaked out during a visit to a new doctor in 1964 for this recent high school graduate.  For years the family physician kept the secret about Richard Hill's adoption, but when the doctor retired, the new physician wasn't given any instructions regarding Richards adoption. Richard was clueless. He left the doctor's office in a daze. Maybe it was fate that Richard found out when he did.

I would have been as shocked as he was. (My family has a secret too!) But truth has a tongue and it speaks if we are only brave enough to listen.  Richard's quest for truth began. He traveled far and wide to try to put together the missing pieces of his family tree. 

If you are interested in using DNA as one of your search tools, like me, then I suggest that you read this book. The author took several DNA tests until he found his missing parents. The truth is in the DNA. 

"And many of us will not know peace until we know all the pieces."

Richard Hill

In Search of my Southern Smith Connection

Downtown Morristown

My nephew and I drove for hours to reach a small city in Northeast Tennessee called Morristown located in the county of Hamblen. I was hoping to find where my great-great grandfather was buried in 1906 and any other information that I could find. His name was Pleasant Thomas Smith, a Civil War vet. 

Downtown Morristown

We traveled up and down hilly streets to reach the only library in town. I carried my two large binders inside that contained all of the information that I have on the Smiths. The library was small, so very small.  I asked if they had any newspapers on the microfiche from 1884 and beyond. There was some juicy information on a relative that involved a barn burning, jail, and a divorce that I wanted more information on. They placed me at a table in front of a reader and I began my search.  I looked through every date that I could muster but didn't come up with anything. It was then that one of the librarians suggested that I go to the archives at the courthouse.  I gathered my things and off we went. 

Morristown, upper level

The archives were located in the basement, which meant that I had to carry my binders down a flight of stairs and I was not looking forward to the descent. Once inside, I was greeted by two elderly women who were ready to research.  I was pelted with questions on dates, names, and locations. After a little while it was suggested that I go to the next county for research because we couldn't find anything on my ancestors.  Even though my great-great grandfather married his second wife in Hamblen County, they lived in Jefferson County before the county boundary changed. 

Morristown upper level with my nephew

Instead of going to Jefferson County that day we walked around downtown Morristown. Main Street was lined with flags and hanging flowers. There is an upper level with shops all along the top.  I have never seen anything like this before and I thought it was awesome. 

The next day we headed to Jefferson County to a little city called Dandridge (the second oldest city in Tennessee, Jonesboro is the first). I was here once before many years ago. There was a country restaurant in the heart of the city was all that I remembered. Today it is out of business. I did visit an old plantation house that was on a back road somewhere but was not feeling that adventurous on this trip. We repeated our steps from the previous day. But this time was more productive.

Dandridge

I met a man who has been researching the Smith line from the county and he was due to arrive early in the afternoon. Timing was perfect in this instance. His name was Ray, a soft spoken southerner with gray hair, smiling eyes, and a firm handshake ( I always judge a man's character based on his handshake). A retired professor who loves genealogy is someone that I was looking for. There was a large folder in the archives for the Smith's. I looked through the folder and found land records that I hadn't seen before. I was thrilled. At least I was going home with more than one piece of paper. We exchanged phone numbers and email addresses.    

Barn in New Market, Tennessee

Sadly, Tennessee didn't begin recording deaths until 1914. I came home with some information that I didn't have before with hopes of eventually finding my great-great grandfathers grave.  I am determined to find him and say that I haven't forgotten you or your life.  Pleasant deserves at least that much from me. 

About time to take the DNA test

Besides taking pictures, I enjoy genealogy and have traced my mother's side of the family back to the Revolutionary War. I have literally spent years tracing my roots. The bug bit me back when I was in my 20's and my great aunt Joye Bolden wrote me a letter with details of the Bolden family. Trying to figure out where to begin was daunting. It was before Ancestry.com or the internet and I had to look through many books searching for any information that I could find related to family at the local library.  I am lucky enough to be living in the city that has the second largest genealogy department in the nation. (right behind the Salt Lake City collection) When I was in my 30's, I hired someone to help me get started.  I figured that if the person who helped me could do the research, then so can I.  That is when my journey started and I have been traveling the research road since then. 

Having one's DNA analyzed can be costly until recently.  I found a deal on Ancestry.com for $79.99. My kit arrived on Friday evening. I collected the DNA sample they needed and put it straight back into the mail box.  Now, the waiting game has started. It will take 6-8 weeks before I find out the results.  What kind of mix am I?  There are rumors of Cherokee Indian coming from both sides of the family.  My mother was a Campbell, so, I know Scotland is looming in the past.  But what about Smith? There are mysteries with my father's lineage.  Not sure who the father is of my Great Grandfather because he was born before the second marriage to Mr. Smith.  So, I anxiously wait. 

The picture came from Ancestry.com

Photography, Books, Dreams, and Things

Not long ago, a man from FamilySearch.org met with a group that I am involved in about a project they want us to do for them (another visit tomorrow with the Big Whigs).  As you may or may not know, I am very interested in genealogy.  If I can do something to help others down their ancestral path, then I am all for it. Over the next couple of years, we will be involved with the folks from Utah to scan and upload information to their website plus it will also be transferred to an additional website so that people like you and me can research our family history for free. The book we are working on is well under way and should be completed this year too (we are crossing our fingers). There are only four more sections at the cemetery to photograph and then we will begin to put our complied information together.  I am very excited to be involved in such wonderful projects. 

Someone said to me over the weekend that we are chess pieces that are moved around for our greater good.  Things happen for a reason...This is when "Dreams become things". Dreams were never meant to stay in our heads but to become a reality.  I never dream't that my search, which started ever so many years ago, would take me to where I am now. 

When I was recently asked what was one of my major accomplishments was for my life,  I quickly piped up and said that becoming a DAR was something that I only dreamed of becoming in the last few years, which became a reality back in October.  I am going to keep dreaming. But more than that, I am going to make them come alive with good intentions and lots of determination. Prayer doesn't hurt either. 

Now, if I could just get to England for a visit then I would be extremely happy...

She

Her story begins with a letter. It was thick and written by hand, an art form that has since been tossed aside for a keyboard and a screen.  In this letter were dates, names, and locations; family that she never knew existed.  But her story really began long before the letter, its genesis in a place and a country that is in her blood with a deep longing to return. Her ancestors are calling to her.  “Do not forget us”, they cry. “We are part of you.”

When she was in her mid twenties she met her great aunt from Georgia.  Her aunt lived in the same small town where the young woman’s mother was born. The Aunt was old and bent over from working endless hours in the carpet mill.  She told the young woman about the many hours she spent in the library digging for her roots. This was long before the internet and ancestry.com. Where books, wills, and the census were harder to locate than it is now. The young woman returned home wondering if she was intelligent enough to begin her own search. It seemed like it was a very daunting task.

William Sealsbury Campbell & Delphia Jane Massey

Ten years went by before the young woman thought to give researching a try.  Her mother passed away when she was 33 and the desire to know more about from whence she came was stronger than ever.  She was very unsure what to do or where to go for help. Then a friend told her about a woman, who’s IQ was equal to Forrest Gump, who could help with the research.  She gave what bit of information that she had to the researcher and waited in anticipation.  Before long a new generation was discovered.  Questions were asked and the young woman told herself that if the researcher can do this, then so can she.

Oh the quest wasn’t easy.  There was so much to learn, so many avenues to take to reach the same goal.  Then there were the names. Oh the names!  There was Wesley, Elbert, Seal, James, Archibald, James, and another Archibald.  Rarely did these men go by there first names, which made the digging all the worse.  Wrong names were listed on documents galore. In exasperation she wanted to bang her head on the wall.  She worked tirelessly to find the right names, the right connections. She ran into brick walls, and then by some miracle found a break through. On and on she went, trudging through paperwork like a soldier going to war.

William Sealsbury Campbell & Delphia Jane Massey

Each generation represented our country. They stood up for this great nation. Her family fought in World War I & II, the Civil War, the War of 1812, and the Revolutionary War.  Her mother would be very proud to know that her daughter found the path that was paved back to the beginning of this nation by her ancestors.  She felt honored, but most of all blessed.  When she found two relatives who fought in the Revolution, she then thought that she just might want to become a daughter.  Not just any daughter, but a Daughter of the American Revolution.  The application was filled out, the mound of documents copied and stapled together, then sent to the gods, hoping for approval.  In a few short weeks the answer came. Then she smiled.  

The “she” in this story is me.