History isn't about dates...

This morning on my way to work, I was in a long train of cars and trucks. The vehicle in front of me was pleasing to the eye. I'm no great fan of invisible fences since two of the dogs I grew up with found ways to slip out. One would wait for the snow plow to come and leave a mound of snow over the wire that triggered the warning collar, and simply walk out over the distance-keeping hill of snow. The other was a bounder, he could leap like a deer, and easily cleared 5-6 foot fences on the fly. He did this one day, bounding over the warning of the invisible fence, and came back in my older brother's arms, dead from being hit by a car.

But I digress...the two yellow labs sharing the stick they obviously want someone to toss, pulled me out of my rambling thoughts.

I had been thinking about ... history and how it isn't about dates, it's about people. And how I've been reading lately about people that were "much more personal" to me - which made history more ...personal.

Let me explain. My dad's side of the family, largely came to this country around 1850. There are 5-6 generations that, by and large, lived entirely within a few blocks-square area in downtown Philadelphia (with trips to the New Jersey beaches). While Philadelphia is the home of the Liberty Bell and the signing of the Declaration of Independence...the people that did that, and lived through that time, weren't "my people". So the history becomes a bit dusty and remote...

My mom's mother's family immigrated to Boston, Massachusetts from Scotland around 1895. Again, Boston is one of those "a lot of things happened there" towns of old, but it wasn't "my people" that were involved with dumping the tea in the harbor, or listening to Paul Revere shout the "British are coming!"

My mom's Daughters of the American Revolution application and the research that went into it, however, has changed things. History has become much more personal.

My mother's father's family tree for the country that was to become the United States of America is extensive. More than extensive. One branch goes back to John Bush (1590 - 1624) who is my 8th great grandfather. He came to Virginia with Lord De La Warr.

Thomas West, 3rd (or 12th) is often named in history books simply as Lord Delaware. He served as governor of the Jamestown Colony, and the Delaware Bay was named after him.

Suddenly, history takes on a buzz.

John Bush's great-grandsons would travel with Daniel Boone through the Cumberland Gap in 1775.

Johannes Michael Schmidt, my 7th great grandfather, came from Germany in 1737 with others fleeing religious persecution. He entered this country in Philadelphia, lived in Germantown, and later moved to Virginia. 110 years later, my dad's side of the family would come from England and live on Germantown Avenue... Again, something begins to resonate within me...

Philip Peter Visinand, my 8th great grandfather, who born on 10 Apr 1684 in Heilsbruck, Switzerland, came to America in 1731 and settled in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. He is buried in a cemetery I've driven past dozens of times without a thought or care... It's so very different now.

Back north, the town of Salem, Massachusetts was having a series of hearings and prosecutions of people accused of witchcraft, between February 1692 and May 1693. Henry Herrick Sr., my 10th great grandfather and his family were deeply involved.

My mom is deeply ashamed by this - I grant this wasn't the world's "finest hour," but it happened.

Does the name David Stern Crockett ring a bell? Perhaps you remember the Alamo? Ancestry.Com tells me he is the uncle of my 4th great grand aunt, Sarah Elizabeth Crockett's husband.

Lost in the fabric of time... and deep in thought, I want to learn more about what have become special to me events in history... the Alamo, the Salem Witch Trials, the settling of Jamestown, and something terrible...

...the damages done to the family during and after the Civil War - where "my people" fought... on the "losing side" near Shelbyville, Tennessee...

..when I look up and see two friendly dogs staring back at me...and soon thereafter I arrive at work once more.

Umm... Huh?

Usually, junk mail never enters my house, it goes into the trash can, but this morning I was late, so I took it to work with me. My brother saw my forehead wrinkle when I saw this ad in one of the ad circulars.


He looked at me and asked, "Why the funny face? Oh! I know, it's because the coupon (he made air quotes) expires, right?"

I replied, "No. Its the thought that I should buy my loved ones..."


"...one of these for Christmas."

He looked at the ad and then laughed.

Later on that day, when he was leaving, I asked him, "What sort of stone do you want?"

"Rose-colored Granite," he replied. And then added, "And Iggy, don't ask any of your lady-friends that question, Ok?"

I looked confused and he helped me out, saying "What sort of stone do you want? Like in engagement ring?"

It has been a slow day in land of odd...

Der brth I tak up time to drop you few lins..

Recently, Jacqi over at "A Family Tapestry" sent me a link to a new (to me) genealogy resource. It allows one to search books of biographical material.

Thanks to Jacqi, I uncovered a few gems. If you don't know Jacqi, this is what her profile says:

"It is my contention that, after a lifetime, one of the greatest needs people have is to be remembered. They want to know: have I made a difference? I write because I can't keep for myself the gifts others have entrusted to me. Through what I've already been given--though not forgetting those to whom I must pass this along--from family I receive my heritage; through family I leave a legacy. With family I weave a tapestry. These are my strands."

I get goose bumps just reading that.

---- ...And these are my strands. ----

One of the gems I found has the rather lengthy title of "MOUNT HOPE - A history of Cole, Shipman, and allied families: Abercrombie, Allen, Anderson, Bailey, Bennett, Bryson, Carson, Channell, Curtis, Hemphill, Hutchins, Keith, Munday, Nixon, Owens, Stephens, and other families, of old Buncombe Co., N.C, Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, Arkansas, Texas, Oklahoma and elsewhere." It was written by Pauline Callaway Sheriff and is copyrighted 1982.

On page 189, I found this regarding my Mother's great-grandfather:

John Madison Shipman, son of George Shipman and Margaret Hefner, was born on December 22, 1844 in Georgia. He married Paratine Avary on January 15, 1867. She was born in 1847-8 in Alabama, the daughter of Wilson W. Avary, b. 1824-5 in South Carolina and Tabitha Jane b. circa 1826-7 in Alabama.

In the 1880 US Census, Wayne County, Tennessee, John Madison Shipman and family was listed living next door to the W. W. Avery family. Included in the census were the following children: G.W., a son 11 years old, M. J. a daughter 10 years old, and D.P. a son, 5 years old.

Through the courtesy of Louise Shipman Fields, we have a copy of part of an old letter that was written by John Madison to his brother, Rufus Monroe, called "Babe", and to his parents, George and Margaret [Hefner] Shipman. Over the years portions of this letter had worn out on the folds, and some sections were missing:

"Wayne Co. No (missing)
Pap & mother

... leaves us in common ... they may find you all ... not heard any speshal in some time I want to see you all very bad and did expect to before this time but on the account of gethering my crop and sickness I can't get off yet awhile my crop is now gethered I have got a part of my wheat sowed I think when I get done sowing wheat and my cotton hawled off and sold surely will get to come We have had some sickness this fall but nothing verry serious Gerge Wilson first had the sore throat he was sick about two weeks then little Perry about two weeks with fevor and worms supposed to be then Pairentine had the sore throat about one week we only had the doctor one trip we have all been puny this fall my crop turned out tolerable well except my cotton it was verry sorry I think I have gethered about 200 bu (bushels) of corn 11 or 12 hundred lbs of cotton in the seed I think I have shoats (young pigs) enough to make meat if they don't die there is a great many hogs dying in this country

(the bottom part of the letter is missing, then this on the back side:)

...so Babe I supose you are come out to Wayne if you can do any good would be glad you would do so if it suits you to come now you can come out with John Avary well Babe I don't know of anything now that would pay you much. You can come and look round for your self and if it don't suit you can do like other has done you can go back to Winston so if you want to come don't wait on me.

J.M.S

"When this you see remember us I want you all to write soon"

On the bottom of the letter, in a very different handwriting, very hard to read, was:

"Winston County, Ala January 18 1877
Der brth I tak up time to drop you few lins to in forme you that we are wel at pres hop th finds every one of you well"

The above letter was written in Nov 1876 and the reply at the bottom started Jan 28, 1877 by Rufus or a sibling.

---- I then found this: ----


On the back it is labeled, [Daniel Perry Shipman] on the right. I think this is John Madison Shipman with his two youngest children Hurbert and Daniel Perry, taken somewhere in Fannin County, Texas, circa 1880.

Digging around further, I find what appear to be the memories of Carlos Raymond (C. R.) Shipman. I hope you will clicken to enbiggen. :)


It says in part: "I am Carlos Raymond Shipman born June 28, 1899 attended at birth by Dr. J. A. Lannius in a two-room log house built by my father and his neighbors a little over 17 miles northeast of Bonham on a 40-acre government lease at 10 cents an acre per year for ten years. The doctor came out in a one-horse buggy about 17 miles at five miles per hour.

I married June 15, 1921 Annie Mae Matthews in Bonham. We have one daughter and seven sons all living at present. She passed away January 24. 1974. My father Daniel Perry Shipman was born in Wayne County, Tennessee September 1874. He came to Texas in a wagon with his parents, John and Paratine (Avery) Shipman, at the age of eight years. His father died when my father was 12 and he lost his mother two years later. He had to run the farm and support his mother and sister Maggie [Note: my great-grandmother] and brother Hurbert. His older brother George was married and had two children at the time. My father was helped some by his Uncle Billy Morrison of the Stoolgrub community a few miles away. My father also helped at times on other farms at 35 cents and 50 cents a day. He made cross ties at six cents each for the Texas and Pacific Railroad. He became a good farmer and owned and operated close to 900 acres several years. Later he farmed less and operated a meat market and general merchandise store, also a wood yard. In his last working years he cultivated 11 acres in vegetables to sell on his place on South Center Street in Bonham.

His uncles, Luke, Downs and Charlie Avery, lived in the Telephone and Lamaso communities north of Bonham. Luke and Downs moved to Lubbock to farm. My father came to Texas, I was told, in a wagon from Tennessee. Five wagons started but only three made it. They traveled 15 to 25 miles a day depending on the hills and road conditions. Most newcomers to Fannin County stopped along the Red River for water and land that would grow fruit and vegetables. At 19 my father married Fannie Mary Terrell who was age 20. There were five children born of this marriage: Ruby, Raymond, Homer, Carrol and Mattie Gorgie. Carrol died in 1960 on a farm north of Bonham. Carroi's oldest daughter Caroline Shipman Brady now owns and operates the farm. My father lived in Fannin County 66 of his 76 years."

-- "Fannin County Folks & Facts" Page 238.

It is 550 miles from Mount Pleasant, Wayne County, Tennesee to Honey Grove, Fannin County Texas. The wagon trip must have taken them about a month.

Ghosts of Our Grandfathers

Recently, I've been very busy at work. Some of this work involves setting up and learning about new computers and new operating systems. Windows Server 2012 and Windows 8 to be specific.

I find myself reduced to having all thumbs as I attempt to find my way around the new "user interface" that Microsoft hopes will "look like" what you see on smart phones.

Doing this work, got me to thinking that if my Grandfather was still around, I would be rewriting the very first program I ever wrote (back in 1977-ish) for him to use with a new computer system, or perhaps even as a smart phone app.

He might have even liked it - each version of computing he lived through made his life easier - since "the program" he used to determine pricing at the foundry got more and more user friendly and reduced his work (and mistakes) with each version.

But it has not been all work and no play for me even if the weather has mostly conspired against weekends with nice weather. On the one nice weather weekend this past month, my Dad and I went to the Golden Age Air Museum in Grimes, Pennsylvania where we saw airplanes of World War One and the Depression Era fly.



I am always amazed by the sight of airplanes such as this, built in 1917, still flying! I took a ton of photos (here).

The weekend after that, the weather was stormy and gloomy but the rain held off for the most part, so I got to the houseboat to unwind from "enjoying" way too much Windows 8.

Some of you may remember the cutest little wharf rat in all the world. Here's Barley making a new friend!


My mother always says, "When it rains, we rest." Here she is resting by reading a book on the houseboat in the dinette.


For my mom's birthday celebration, my dad arranged for a sunset dinner cruise on the Tireless. The Tireless is a restored, all wooden 68 foot long Classic Trumpy motor yacht, built for Roger Firestone in 1963. Roger Firestone was the youngest of five sons of Harvey S Firestone, founder of Firestone Tire. I find it amusing that he would name a boat "Tireless" but it makes perfect sense...it has no tires!


Dinner was super yummy! I didn't eat again for almost a whole day.


While we were cruising, my dad suddenly exclaimed, "I don't believe it! Look over there, there's the Muriel Eileen!"

Built in 1926, the Muriel Eileen is a wooden "Chesapeake Bay Buy boat" typical of many similar boats of that time. It has a mast and boom forward of the hold with the pilothouse aft of the hold with the hull decked over. It is 58 feet long and 18 feet wide

These "buy boats" were used to haul freight, watermelons and oysters in the days when roads in the Chesapeake Bay area were poor. They literally bought oysters from fishermen direct from their boats while they were still out in the bay oystering, hence the name.


When Muriel Eileen's owner started to renovate it, he contacted my father regarding some of the brass fittings that needed replacement due to extensive wear. My grandfather worked up the pricing using "the program" I wrote and he also made the wooden patterns. The circular ring where the rope enters the boat from the wooden pole is made of brass...and was made by my dad and grandfather. I think they are called hawse pipes. They typically run an anchor chain out of a boat (or ship) through such a fitting to protect the woodwork.

This is not the only "old" boat on sailing on the Chesapeake Bay that has bits and pieces my dad and grandfather made.


HMS Sultana was a small Royal Navy schooner that patrolled the American coast from 1768 through 1772, preventing smuggling and collecting duties. She was retired when unrest in Britain's American colonies required larger, better armed patrol craft.

In mid-1999, my father was asked if he might help with a project to build a replica of the Sultana. The ships rudder required straps to mount it around the propeller (an engine is required by the US Coast Guard in order to carry passengers.)

My dad had the straps were made from bronze and supplied them. A couple years later, he was called and invited to the ship's launching. The replica of HMS Sultana was launched in Chestertown on March 28, 2001.


As launched, the straps were painted white. Today, they are painted black (as in the first photograph.)

For those of you with sharp eyes, I am in the front row and the third person standing to the right of the street lamp (next to the guy with a yellow vest).

Labor Day weekend proved dreary and gloomy, so I decided to take a road trip away from the houseboat. In the small town of Sudlersville, I found the local train station. The tracks went from Wilmington, Delaware through Massey (of the grass airfield fame) to Queenstown, Maryland.


I tried to find out more about the feed mill/elevator in the background, but couldn't find its owner.

I then went to Ridgely, Maryland and visited its train station, now a museum.

This station was on the line from the sleepy bay side town of Oxford, Maryland to Clayton, Delaware where it connected to the line that ran to Wilmington and Philadelphia.

From 1871 to 1920 or so, a daily steam train took freshly caught and canned oysters from Oxford to Philadelphia, stopping at this station to pick up rail car loads of Strawberries. Ridgely was the Strawberry Capital of America back in the day. Did some of those strawberries and oysters get eaten by my great-grandparents?

Did the place "next door" to my great-great-great-great-grandfather sell "Oxford, Maryland" oysters (see previous post)?

Maybe - just maybe. :)