WikiTree Time!

 I really love WikiTree. It is almost time for WikiTree Day Symposium again. I attended last year and I really enjoyed it.  I enjoyed the speakers and did learn a lot. The site is free!   November 1-3.

Register here. 

Took Poison!

 While this may be a sad story to start with, it does have a happy ending. It also brought very good memories to my mind about another matter altogether. But first, let's learn who the article is about, and how he is connected to me. 

The article speaks of George A. Manning. His nephew, John Harvey Manning was married to my great-grandaunt, Roxie Mae Martin. I never met John but knew Aunt Roxie.

I'll let the article tell the first story. As always, the transcript is below.

Took Poison

Prisoner in Jail Came Near Ending His Life.

George A. Manning, who said his home was at Ewing, was found on the street Thursday afternoon very drunk. The marshal arrested him and took him to jail to sober up. Just as council adjourned Thursday night Frank White who was being detained in jail to testify as a witness in another case gave the cry of alarm. Policeman Elrod unlocked the door and White told him that Manning had taken poison and was dying. And his condition then did seem hopeless for he was certainly near death's door.

But Dr. Graessle was right there, having just come down from council meeting, and he administered an antidote and went to work to save Manning's life, if possible. His efforts were successful and in the course of an hour or two he began to get better. Friday morning Manning was up and anxious to leave town though he was feeling pretty sore and very much ashamed. He went to North Vernon where he said he had a brother.

Manning confessed that he had been carrying the poison for a month but never had the nerve to take it before. Why he should have taken it no one knows. There was certainly no good reason for it.

Don't worry about George. He got it together, married and died at 78 of heart disease in Houston, Texas. So, for him, it all turned out ok.

When I read that Dr. Graessle had saved George I was flooded with memories. He is the doctor that delivered me and my brother. I remember my mother taking me to checkups in his office as a child. He would set me up on his big desk and check me out. Then he'd tell me I could get candy from the jar that sat on that desk while he talked to Mother. When we were very ill, he would come to the house and check us out. After he was done with us, he'd sit at the kitchen table with my parents, have a cup of coffee, smoke his pipe and talk. He always had his pipe. My last year in High School I worked as a nurse's aide on weekends at the local hospital. His wife was ill and he would come up to see her all the time. You could smell him coming. He always smoked his pipe, and it was a lovely smell, rich, probably expensive tobacco. I would be busy and suddenly he was right in front of me. When I'd look up he'd say, "Ah, you're Madelyn's daughter!" He always remembered his babies. Everyone loved him. The last time I saw him was in 1973. He died in 1977. His memory lives on. 

Dr. Harold Peter "Bud" Graessle

1893-1977

Sources:

Newspapers.com; Took Poison; The Tribune, Seymour, Indiana; Friday, march 17, 1905; Page 2.

"Indiana Marriages, 1811-2019", , FamilySearch (https://www.familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:VZQ1-7SX), Entry for George A Manning and Lucinda Beck, 24 Aug 1895.

"Texas Death Index, 1903-2000," database, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:VZDJ-GXW), George A. Manning, 28 Jul 1940; from "Texas, Death Index, 1903-2000," database, Ancestry (http://www.ancestry.com : 2006); citing certificate number 33226, Harris, Texas, Texas Department of Health, State Vital Statistics Unit, Austin. 

Oh No! He Got Popped!

 I spent a lot of time googling with this one.  Bastardy is just what you'd think it was. I have had a lot of trouble finding anything about a popper. I do believe that it could solve our little gun problem though. 

This story is about a man named Solomon Wineinger. He is not a blood relative, but one of those marry-in types.  Anyway, here is the story from the newspaper from Jackson County, Indiana in 1883. Translation below graphic.

Outwitted and Outrun

Last Friday a warrant was issued by Justice W. L. Boyatt for the arrest of Solomon Wineinger, of Owen Township, who was wanted to answer to a charge of bastardy. It was placed in the hands of Constable George R. Hamilton, who found his game at Ewing and pounced down upon him. While escorting him up to town, Wineinger begged the Constable not to walk so fast, saying he had heart disease and several other ailments, and was liable to fall prostrate at any moment. the pace was therefore slackened until they reached the head of Walnut Street, when quick as lightning Wineinger darted around the corner and started down the old Stilwell ferry road. The Constable followed him and commanded him to stop, and then pulled his little popper and popped away, but heedless of the popping Wineinger flew along with the fleetness of a deer, soon leaving the officer hopelessly in the rear. Since then, nothing has been heard of Wineinger's whereabouts.

Now, in 1883 Solomon was about 35 years old. He had served in the Civil War as a young man. He was not married, so far as I've been able to find. It sounds like this incident is not his first rodeo. I have not found anything to say that he was caught in the end. I'll keep looking, but I know in 1888 he married a Louisa Jane Blythe. Not in Jackson County, by the way. He was next door in Lawrence County. He and Louisa had 8 children, as far as I could find in the neighboring county, but he was buried in Jackson County.

I have searched for a picture of a popper to no avail. I did find a clacker, a rattle and lots of whistles. Seems policing was noisy in that time period. It was also not deadly. Police were respected and respectful. I do think this article makes a case for Family DNA testing.

I bring a little light and truth to an old gangster movie line. 

"Hey boss, you want I should pop him?"

And you thought it meant something else. 

Source: 

*Newspapers.com; Jackson County Banner, Brownstown, Indiana; Thursday, July 5, 1883; Page 4.

*"United States Civil War and Later Pension Index, 1861-1917", FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:NH8R-RML), Solomon Wineinger, 1886.

*Find a Grave, database and images (https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/129055936/solomon-wineinger), memorial page for Solomon Wineinger (4 May 1848–23 Jan 1943), Find a Grave Memorial ID 129055936, citing Mount Zion Cemetery, Medora, Jackson County, Indiana, USA; Maintained by Alicelth (contributor 47131242).

Survival

 Francis Marion Jack, "Frank", my third great granduncle, was born on September 14, 1844, in McMinn County, Tennessee, he was the son of John Jack and Mary Ditmore. In 1869 he married Margaret E. McNabb. I found a little death notice for him. I don't know the papers name, I haven't been able to find the original pdf it was in though I do have a lot from the Daily Athenian in Tennessee, I am not sure this is from that one. I'm sorry for the source sin, forgive me. I do know the date is December 14, 1925.The transcription is below the graphic: 

Sultana Survivor

Dies At Englewood

ENGLEWOOD, Tenn., Dec. 14 - (Spl.)--Frank M. Jack, one of the four last survivors of the ill-fated Sultana, which was sunk near Memphis in the Mississippi river during the civil war, died here Saturday. Mr. Jack was one of the best-known citizens in this section of the state. 

Funeral services for Mr. Jack were conducted by the Masons of the Peabody Lodge of Coghill yesterday. Mr. Jack is survived by five sons and three daughters.

This little blurb tells me a lot. First of all, the Sultana was taking Union soldiers home at the end of the war. He was Union. (making him a Union Jack? opps)  I've found he was in Company K, 3rd Regiment, Tennessee Cavalry. He had 8 children living at the time of his death. I found all but one. He was a mason. Just for the record, where else would Mr. Peabody be but Coghill Lodge? Sorry. That was funny if you're old. I am.

The Sultana is the worst boat disaster you have never heard about. Why? On April 15, 1865, Abraham Lincoln was assassinated.  The boat was carrying the news of that as it traveled down the river heading to Vicksburg, Mississippi. On April 26, 1865, John Wilkes Booth was killed. (I know, supposedly.) The Sultana blew up on April 27, 1865. The wooden steamboat had the capacity of a crew of 85 and only 376 passengers.  At the time of the explosion, she was carrying 2, 128 passengers according to some researchers. The captain, James Mason, bribed the chief quartermaster at Vicksburg to take on soldiers.  The government paid $2.75 per soldier and $8.00 per officer. He took on 1,400 recently released Union prisoners from the prison camps at Cahaba and Andersonville. Many soldiers were mustered out at Vicksburg, and they were also aboard plus his paying customers. The war was over, and they were finally going home.  At least 1700 died, most likely more but we will never know for sure. It was close to Memphis, Tennessee at the time it blew up. It was spring and the water was cold. Some died from drowning, some by hypothermia, but most from the explosion and fire. Frank was one of the few that made it home. 

Karma bites. Captain James C. Mason died with his boat. No one has been held accountable.

Source:

Sultana on Fire; Public Domain (https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Sultana_Disaster.jpg?uselang=en#Licensing)

Spiritualism and John Alexander

 

John H. Alexander was my second great grandfather. He was born in 1842, the son of John H. and Mary Frances (Carter, Lucas) Alexander.  At the time this article was written, he was about 36 years old and married to Amanda Atkins. They had 3 children at this time, Sarah, Charles aka. Ed, and John Everett. They would go on to have 3 more children, my great grandfather being one.

I was delighted and really amused when I found this. Particularly when you know the smorgasbord that is my family.

To start with, Spiritualism has existed for thousands of years, but the modern spiritualist movement in the U.S. began in the 1840s in New York. Indiana has had a large community of spiritualists since the very early days. New Harmony, Indiana and Camp Chesterfield, Indiana are still going strong. The article below is self-explanatory. Transcription below the clipping.

Modern Spiritualism.

Our good friend, JOHN GORBET, sent us the particulars of discussions which came off at the Gorbet school house on Thursday and at the Hays school house on Friday, upon the proposition that "Spiritualism is the work of the devil." John Gorbet and other advocated the affirmative and John E. Murphy and others the negative. At the first meeting, Chris Runger presided, while George Weddle and Joseph Banks officiated as Judges. At the second meeting, John Alexander was called to the chair, and Michael Isaacs and Wm. Hays chosen as Judges. In both cases, the Judges decided unanimously for the affirmatives. Mr. Gorbet also sent numerous scriptural references upon which his arguments were based, thus showing that he was well fortified with biblical authority to sustain the affirmative proposition. 

It sounds like they were having some fun with it, at least I hope so. I would have loved to be in the debate! I love 'poking the bear'. I'd have been on the losing side, though perhaps it would not have lost if I had been there. 

Little did John know his grand-daughter would come to be very close to her father-in-law who was a Spiritualist, Medium and Table-walker, and still be a very devoted Christian.  

This is not the first time John Alexander and William Hays were mentioned in an article. They were often together. I believe they were good friends, though that can never be carved in stone. My great grandfather was born in 1880. His name was William Hays Alexander. It can never be 'set in stone' sure, but I bet I'm right.

Source: Newspapers.com; Modern Spiritualism. Jackson County Banner, Brownstown, Indiana; Thursday, February 7, 1878; Page 4.

An Explosion of Death

 

This is just another GenWeb story.  I've been trying to get new data on my newest adoption, Leslie County, Kentucky. The first thing I decided to tackle was the Leslie County Mine Fatalities. So, I always take a peek at how I did it in the other counties so that things stay uniform. First discovery of the day is: I misspelled fatalities on the other two sites. So, I was ready to begin after I fixed that dumb mistake.   

Coal was called "Black Gold". Leslie County is deep in Appalachia, real coal country. It really is "black gold" only to the mine owners. To the miners it was "black death".  If you could live to retirement age, there was the looming diagnosis of Black Lung.  At least 16% of miners suffer from that in their retirement years.  Most of the time mining was the only job around. 

I transcribe from the government list the names of the men that died in mine accidents up to about 2005 or 2006, date of death and cause of death. When I got to December 30, 1970, I just kept typing a different name, same date and same cause. Explosion. It went on for 38 entries. I could not leave that. I just googled December 30, 1970 mine explosion, not even saying where.  It was the Hurricane Creek mine disaster just outside the town of Hyden, in Leslie County, Kentucky. The mine was inspected in November and found to have so many problems it should have been shut down. But, jobs, you know. The inspector told the owner that it would be shut down if they did not have everything fixed by the December 22nd inspection. I could just imagine a wink, wink, nudge, nudge. That inspection did not happen. Not enough inspectors, of course. The men knew it was going to be a disaster at some point. They had etched their social security numbers on their belts so they could be identified. In the end, for most of the bodies, that was exactly how they were identified. In a court of law, the owner, Charles Findley, was found guilty of the deaths in the mine. He paid a fine and walked. There is a lot on the Hurricane Mine disaster online and it is easy to find, so I won't go on and on.

Sometimes, what I do is so emotionally exhausting. This was one of those days. The men are aged from 16 to 60. Several sets of brothers, including a set of twins. 

In some cases, and this was one, I make it a point to read aloud each name, so that for a moment they live again, and know they are not forgotten.

Walter Bentley

Billy J. Bowling

Grover Bowling, Jr.

Teddy Bush

Fred Collins

Kenople Collins

Lonnie Collins 

Alonzo Couch 

Holt Couch 

Howard Couch

Carl Ghent

Alfred Gibson

Lawrence Gray

Theo Griffin

Lester Harris

Delbert Henson

Price Henson

Walter Hibbard

George Holland

Ben Hoskins

Frank Hoskins

Kermit Hubbard

Jim Jones

Rufus Jones

James C. Minton

Lee Mitchell

Russell Morgan

Earl Phillips

Stanley Roberts

Arnold Sizemore

Wilbert Smith

Jeffie Spurlock

Albert Wagers

Armond Wagers

Arnold Wagers

Elmer White

Andrew D. Whitehead

Denver Young 

We're all family, really.

The Character of Samuel Allman

 I write this time about my fourth great grandfather, Samuel Allman. He was the son of Philip Jonas Allman and Lucinda VanDeveer. He was born in Virginia.

He first married Rebecca Ann Hatton in 1835 in Bartholomew County, Indiana. Together, they had 6 children: Mary Ann, aka. Polly Ann, John William, Minerva, Nancy Ellen, Philip and Rufus. Mary Ann is my third great-grandmother. Rebecca died in 1851. He then married Mary Jane Hall in 1852.  They had 6 children as well: Sarah, Pernette, Samuel A. Jr., William Riley, Joseph and Lucinda. I grew up and had relationships with the descendants of William Riley Allman. Oddly enough, I did not know how we were related until I began researching. My mom and dad were married by the son of William Riley, and I was first married by his grandson. I know, it's a "strange but true" thing. It was a small town. Even more strange, his grandson was a new preacher, and we were his first marriage, and of course, failure. Hope we didn't dent him. 

Any-whoooo, this is about Samuel, well, actually Sam. He was an extremely interesting man. Ancestry has his dates a mess and a photo of his grandson, Samuel Martin in place of an actual photo of Sam Allman. Sam Martin was the son of Mary Ann Allman, Sam Allman's daughter. and again, my third great-grandmother. I'd love to sit and listen to her father tell his stories. I bet he had good ones! This article will give you a sense of who he was. I have transcribed it below the clipping.

Unfortunate Sam Allman. (January 29, 1873)

The cabin of Samuel Allman, on the other side of the river, took fire one night recently, and burned to the ground, together with all the furniture and bedding in the same. with nowhere else to go, Sam turned his live stock from his rude stable, and with his family has occupied it ever since. A subscription paper was passed around last week for the relief of the distressed family, and quite a number of our citizens contributed liberally. Sam Allman is a poor man, but his character for honesty is above reproach. With his unshorn face and unkempt hair, Sam presents an uncouth appearance. "Too proud to beg and too honest to steal," "his rags and tags" he does not "try to conceal," and it may truthfully be said of him that he "belongs to the shabby genteel."

As illustrative of the character of Sam Allman, we will relate a little anecdote. One day a few years ago, before the jail on Walnut street was destroyed by fire, as Sam was passing that edifice, some of the prisoners ventured to tantalize him. Sam felt that he was insulted, and pausing, he looked up to the grated window, and thus addressed himself to his deriders: "Boys," said he, "poverty is no crime, else I expect as how I mought be peeping through iron bars myself. I tell you what it is, I'd rather be a mighty sight poorer and worse off than I am, and go to bed hungry every night, with an honest conscience to make me sleep sound, than swap places with the best one of ye - ye trifling spalpeens and dishonest vagabonds. The next time I come along this way, I shall bring my rifle, ready cocked and primed, and I'll tell you what it is, the first one of you that opens his mouth at me will drap, and the coroner's jury will give a verdict, 'shot plumb through the right eye by Sam Allman, who never misses his mark.'" Sure enough, Sam carried his trusty rifle the next time, and walked slowly past the jail, taking the middle of the street that the prisoners might have a good view and that he might have a good range; but no taunts greeted his ears, and therefore Sam was not compelled to shoot a prisoner "plumb through the right eye," which he undoubtedly would have done had he been again insulted. 

Sam was listed as a farmer in every census. The bottoms are still the most fertile area of the county. The yearly floods enrich the soil. I think he was a very rich man. His children were all devoted to him, all 12 of them. Mary Ann had 2 children with her first husband, and she named them Samuel and Rebecca. He was respected in that small town, and many of his descendants are still there, living good lives.

Transcription of his death notice.

Death of Samuel Allman. (November 16, 1876)

It is with regret we chronicle the death of SAMUEL ALLMAN, who for many years resided in the bottoms on the west side of the river. In appearance he was a perfect picture of the original back woodsman. His rifle and his dog were his inseparable companions. As a marksman he was the equal of David Crocket or Daniel Boone, and it was but seldom that his game did not drop at the pull of the trigger of his faithful gun. Throughout life, he remained a poor man, and a rude log cabin has been all the home he and his family have ever known. Yet he was happy and contented, perhaps far more so than many who fared better in this world's good. He was a strong Democrat, and it grieved him that he was not able to come to town on election day to vote for Tilden and Hendricks. He was possessed of a good disposition and was strictly honest. He was about 60 years of age.

Just for the record, I love Perry Mason. You know, the early black and white show. There is this one episode which always makes me think of Sam. I don't know the name of it, but it has a character that is like what I imagine he was. He has his rifle ready, his dog Hardtack at his side and is very honest and 'old world'.  Of course, Perry was his lawyer, so he did not do it. Just funny how sometimes a character in a movie, tv show or book reminds you of an ancestor. Well, it does me. I might be nuts, though. 

-A little explaination:

spalpeen:  Irish word, means a rascal.

Tilden and Hendricks ran against Hayes and Wheeler in 1876. Didn't go well for them. 

Sources:

Newspapers.com; Unfortunate Sam Allman: Jackson County Banner, Brownstown, Indiana; Wednesday, January 29, 1873; Page 5.

Newspapers.com; Death of Samuel Allman: Jackson County Banner, Brownstown, Indiana; Thursday, November 16, 1876; Page 5