Saturday, November 30, 2013

Family History : Choate, Allen, Casey, Burton, and Garret

Family History : Choate, Allen, Casey, Burton, and Garret
Choate
It was a spring day, on April 15, 1676 when the Lord Baltimore’s good ship Cecelius, pulled into the Annapolis, Maryland harbor.  The arrival of this ship meant the beginning of a new life for one thirty-four year old man.  Not only was he in his mid-thirties, but in order to achieve this start, he was forced to indenture himself to a local citizen.  At the time England gave land both to the local who sponsored and indentured servant, and to the servant, upon the completion of his servitude.
Christopher Choate was born on Sept 4, 1642, in Rivenhall Parrish, Essex, England.  Times were hard for an ambitious young man in England.  King Charles II was at odds with Parliament.  There was open conflict between English Anglicans and Catholics.  Worst of all, unless you went to war, the odds of a poor man advancing were nil.
The only way Christopher saw to better himself was to seek his future in the new world.  Upon his arrival he worked in servitude to John Welsh.  Mr. Welsh paid his passage to America, and at the end of his indenture, Christopher received fifty acres of land. 
Beginning a life of freedom, at thirty-nine, he found a wife, and fathered three sons, Edward, Christopher II, and Augustine.   Not a lot is known about Christopher's life over the next decade, but he must have been successful.  By November 19, 1692, the time of his death, Christopher owned at least three large farms.  So in eleven short years he had gone from indentured servant to a moderately, wealthy farmer, and father of three.
Christopher II married Flora "Susannah" Hawkins, in 1716.  They had five children.  Two of them, Christopher III and Richard had sons that fought in the American Revolution.  Christopher III married Prudence Staley.  She was the daughter of Old Hop, Standing Turkey.  He was one of the three Supreme Chiefs of the Cherokee, at that time.
Christopher III and Richard moved to Virginia, then to Tennessee.  Their sons were in Tennessee when the Revolutionary War began.  After the war some stayed in Tennessee and some moved to Oklahoma and Texas.
Ten great-grandchildren of Christopher fought in the Revolutionary War.  They were Christopher, Greenberry, Augustine, Edward, Emanuel, Squire Thomas, David, and Isaac, Moses and another Christopher Choate IV.  Many cousins in our family have had the same names. 
Squire Thomas, David, Moses and Isaac were our great-uncles seven times removed.  Their brother Christopher IV, was our direct ancestor.  All were Indian scouts.  They were part of North Carolina's militia.  At that time Tennessee was technically part of North Carolina.  They were grandsons of a Cherokee chief, so it seems appropriate that they were used as Indian scouts.  There is documentation supporting their reports.  These helped prepare the "western" colonial towns for the eventual British supported Cherokee uprising.  Squire Thomas was murdered by Tories for his role.
After the war Moses went to Oklahoma, opened a store, and married a Shawnee woman.  He is in the family histories and tribal pages of the Shawnee, Choctaw, and Cherokee.  David moved to the Louisiana Territory.  His grandson was a survivor of the battle of San Jacinto in the Texas War for Independence, fought April 23, 1846.  This was the deciding battle in the Texas bid for independence.
Allen
Our most remote, traceable, Allen ancestor was Henry Allan of Glasgow, Scotland.  He was born about 1626.  He married Christina Knox and had four children: James Robert, Issobell, Heneie, and Thomas.
Henry’s son, James Robert, left Glasgow for Ireland. James Robert Allan's son, Robert Allen, changed the spelling, from Allan, to Allen.  He was born in 1695, married Sarah Cathey, emigrated from Armagh Co., Ireland to Frederick Co., VA in 1736, and died in 1769.  Robert had seven children, our lineage descends through his son Benjamin, born in 1745.
Benjamin married Margaret Green Wohoab and they had ten children.  Benjamin was awarded 1000 acres of land in Casey County, Kentucky for raising and commanding a unit of the Virginia Militia in the Revolutionary War.  He sat on a jury of a trial involving Daniel Boone in 1788 and appeared on the first censes in what is now Casey County in 1780. He was buried in the Allen Cemetery, in Casey County, KY, in 1826.  The cemetery sits on the grounds of the original land granted to Benjamin.
I have found references to this our ancestor, Lt. Col. Benjamin Allen.  He led in the Battles of Long Island and Guilford.  He had three other half brothers who fought in the war ranging in rank from private to captain.

Casey and Clemens
Through great grandma Judy Ann Choate, we are descended from Abner Brooks Casey.  He was born in 1700, in Ireland.  About 1725 he migrated from Ireland to Maryland, with his brother Peter.
All of Abner’s sons served in the Revolutionary War from South Carolina.  Randolph served under Francis Marion, the “Swamp Fox” of the Santee. Levi, was a Colonel of the South Carolina troops during the War. Moses, served as a Captain in 1820-26.   Bartholomew Jesse Casey served in the Revolutionary War while living in District 96, South Carolina. He fought all through the Revolutionary War (1775-1783).  Gen. Levi later represented Spartanburg, SC District, in the House of Representatives of the US Congress from 1802 to 1807.
Jesse’s son Aaron Casey served in Roebuck's Regiment after the fall of Charleston. He served for three years.
Our direct ancestors were Jesse and Aaron Casey.  Aaron’s brother John was Col. William Casey’s father.  This is the man Casey County, Kentucky was named for.  William Casey was the great grandfather of Samuel Clemmons, also known as Mark Twain. William Casey is listed as one of the veterans of the Battle of King's Mountain, along with Davy Crockett's father and uncle. 
Colonel William Casey was one of the first explorers into Kentucky.  He was a member of Clark's Illinois Regiment during the Revolutionary War.  He was instrumental in fighting the British and Indian forces, which were attacking settlements throughout the frontier.  In 1792 he was commissioned as a Lieutenant Colonel of the 16th Regiment of the Green County Militia.  He then established a fort, Casey's Station, on Casey's Creek, fifty miles from the nearest settlement.  In later life he was a member of the Kentucky State House of Representatives, member of Kentucky's second Constitutional Convention, and in 1800 was elected as a member of the Kentucky State Senate.
Aaron Casey’s daughter was Mary Polly Casey. She died on 11 Nov 1853 and was buried in Garrett Cemetery, Pickett, Tennessee. Mary married Elijah Garrett in 1799 in Overton Co, Tennessee.  She was Great grandma Judy Ann Choate’s great grandmother.
Grandpa Choate was a first cousin, four times removed to Col. Casey, and fourth cousin once removed to Mark Twain.

Burton
Judy Ann Choate’s maternal g-g-grandmother was Susannah Burton.  Her line traces back to the Sir Burtons, Knighted Lords, in England.  Originally De Burtons, the founder of the English line was one of King Edward the Conqueror’s most trusted allies, who came with him from Normandy, in the 1200’s.
In 1490, our ancestor, John Burton was born.  Since he was a younger son, he did not inherit the family title.  Two more generation stayed in the Newcastle, England area; the traditional Burton family home.
Richard Burton moved from England to Virginia, in the early 1600's.

Garrett
Through two different lines, Great-grandma Judy Ann Choate’s line goes back to her g-g-g-grandfather, Stephen Burton Garrett, 1733-1803.  Stephen’s grandfather William came to America at the age of three with his father John.  His grandfather, also John Garret returned to America, at about the same time, before 1684.
John Garrett Sr. was a widower, and fell on hard times.  He left England, and his son John, to start anew in America as an indentured servant to his brother in law, John Dunston, in 1631.  After his indenture, he received land, and returned to get his son in England.  While there he married Lady Mary Bible, a member of Royalty.  Afterward he was referred to as Lord John Garrett.  A few years later, after Mary died, Lord John Garrett, returned to America with his children.
Lord Garrett’s father changed the name from Gerrad to Garrett.  His grandfather was knighted and known as Sir John Gerrad.  Sir John was elected Mayor of London, in 1601.  Sir John’s father was Sir William Gerrad, and was knighted in 1555.  He was also elected Mayor of London in 1555.
Sir William’s g-g-grandfather was Lord William Gerrad and married Joan Heiress de Bryn, adding another title to the family name.  Sir William’s g-g-grandfather Lord William Gerrad married Emma Heiress De Kinsley, gaining another title to the family.  Lord William Gerrad de Kinsley’s father was William Fitzwilliam Fitzgerald, born 1140-1174. In the old language, Fitz means son of.
William Fitzwilliam Fitzgerald’s father was William Fitzerald.  He was born before 1100 in Carew Castle, Pembrokeshire, Wales and died 1173 in Carrucastle in County Pembroke, England. He inherited Carew Castle and is the ancestor of the family Carew.
William Fitzgerald’s father was Gerald Fitzwalter de Windsor.  Through an arranged marriage by King Henry I, he wed Nesta Rhys, daughter of the Prince of Wales in about 1089. He was appointed by King Henry I to be Constable of Pembroke Castle; in 1092 he held off a Welsh attack; and commanded troops against native Welsh in SW Wales in 1095. 
Lord Gerald’s father was Walter FITZ OTHO Castellan De Windsor.  He was born about 1037 in Stanwell, Staines, Middlesex, England and died in 1100.  He was Castellan of Windsor and Warden of the Forests of Berkshire.
He was one of the military caste that was essential in consolidating the position of William the Conqueror after 1066. He may have been born in England, but it is not known whether he was in England at the time of the landing, or whether he joined William in Normandy, and took part in the Battle of Hastings, 1066. Walter was a knight in the King's private retinue, and, when in 1070 William began the building of Windsor Castle, Walter was put in charge of its defense, and later became the first Constable of Windsor. Under the Norman kings, as with the kings of France, the Constable was the principal officer of the royal establishment, and was responsible for the defense of the establishment, by the knights stationed there. It was this position that conferred the name 'Windsor' upon his sons.
Windsor was built by William to control the middle reaches of the River Thames, and together with other castles, each a day's march apart, to keep open the route from London to the south coast, and thence to Normandy. Since Walter was a young man in 1070, to have been given such responsibility, shows the great respect felt for him by William. Soon after 1070, Walter also had the important post of Warden of the King's forests in Berkshire. Although generally associated with hunting, the main recreation of the Royal household, the position was a military one, since the forests were subject to regular patrolling, as a precaution against enemies of the King. They were also regarded as the main source of provender for armies on the move, or those stationed at strategic castles. Walter Fitz Other must have been very important to William the Conqueror since he granted Walter 22 manors in England. Walter was still holding these at the time of the Domesday Survey in 1086.
Walter’s father was Otho (Duke of Tuscany), born about 1006.  He was a member of the Florentine family, the Gherardini. The “Otho” comes from his father’s given name of Ottorus which is sometimes spelled as Othoer. He was Duke of Tuscany between 1006 and 1100. He came to the court of King Edward the Confessor in about 1056, ten years before the Norman Conquest of England, He passed into Normandy, and in 1057 crossed into England where he became a favorite with Edward the Confessor, and obtained extensive estates from the monarch.
Otho’s father was Baron Ottorus Gherardo Gherardini, born in 978.  Ottorus’ father was Lord Otterus, born about 934.  He was Baron of Gherardini and Lord in Tuscany.
Lord Otterus’ father was Lord Mathias Gherardini, born about 900.  Mathias’ father was Lord Cosimo Gherardini, born about 870.  He was the 1st Great Duke of Florence.

Pat Garrett, the sheriff who shot Billy the Kid, is descended from the same line of Garrett’s, and was Grandpa Choate's seventh cousin, twice removed.

Thursday, November 21, 2013

Feet Don't Fail Me Now

Feet Don't Fail Me Now

One Wednesday evening, in the spring of 1954, my fifteen year old father had a fight with another boy.  After losing the other youth sullenly walked away.  About two hours later Dad was with his brother George.  George had just completed Marine Boot Camp and returned to visit before going to his next station and follow on training. 

My uncle was showing a group of boys his Marine issue bayonet, and the other youths stood around him, looking at the large knife, in awe.  As Dad stood with the other boys, the kid he had fought with earlier crept up behind him, and hit him in the head with a club.  Dad fell to his knees, momentarily stunned, then rolled aside as the attacker again struck at his head.  When the boy missed, Dad lunged up and grabbed my uncle's bayonet.

The assailant took off running, with Dad doing his best to catch up.  Dizzy and bleeding my father still made a good showing, hot on the heels of the other youth.  They ran up to the local church where the evening service was in progress.  Everyone turned to look as the church doors flew open and the two came flying up the aisle.  The former attacker, club still in hand, with Dad brandishing the bayonet, hot on his heels. 

Luckily for all concerned Dad's Grandpa Allen was in the front row, and caught Dad as he went by.  As great-Grandpa Allen held onto my struggling father, the other boy dove through the church window and ran away. 


It sounds harrowing now, but from all I've heard, it was just a typical Wednesday evening in Casey County, during the mid-50's.

Sunday, November 17, 2013

Kit Choate

Kit Choate

My grandfather, George Christopher Choate, known far and wide as "Kit", lived from March 15, 1911 to February 8, 1984.  He was born in Jamestown, Fentress County, Tennessee, and did in Liberty, Casey County, Kentucky.  He was a WWII vet, 32nd degree Mason, honorary Kentucky Colonel, proud husband, father, grandfather, and great-grandfather.  He and his wife Dorothy Bell Allen Choate married in the early 1930's.  In fact they eloped on a mule borrowed from her uncle.

He and Dorothy had eight children, one of which (William) did not make it past infancy.  After the war he often traveled throughout Kentucky and Indiana, seeking work to supplement the little income that came from the family farm.

He loved to hunt and fish.  When I visited in the summer, he would always take time to take me fishing.  I remember helping him to skin many a rabbit, also.  My father started teaching me to shoot at three or four, but grandpa would always take time to shoot with me during my visits.

He had a wood shop beside the house where he would make furniture, billy clubs, and toys for the grand-kids.  He made very nice chairs and benches for the front porch, dressers for the bedroom, and just about anything else he wanted.

Grandpa was very good to me, but he was strict also.  I only remember two spankings from him.  The first he laughed about for years.  When I was about three, we were at Chestnut Grove Baptist Church, and Mom (June Miller Choate) was asked to sing.  Well I was surrounded by many I did not know and was crying when Mom went up front.  Grandpa took me outside, but I refused to settle down.  He took my out to a tobacco field and spanked me.  I settled down, and he asked if I was going to be good.  My response was, "Yes, but when I grow up, I'm going to beat you up!"  He loved to tell that story.

Grandpa Choate had to use a cane, due to a bad hip.  He walked with a limp, but let me tell you he could be mean with that cane.  He went out to milk the cow one evening and the bull tried to get mean with him.  He hit that bull with his cane so hard, he knocked a horn off.  It left him alone, thereafter. 

When my great-grandpa "Boy" Allen died there was a probate hearing.  During the proceedings one of Grandma's half brothers got on the stand and started to say many derogatory things about both my grandmother and her full siblings.  Grandpa listened to him talk about Grandma for a while, then stood up and left the courtroom.

He sat on one of the benches in front of the courthouse, not saying a word.  One of his many friends stopped to talk, but Grandpa was not very responsive.  The brother-in-law who had slandered my grandmother came out of the courthouse.  Grandpa stood up and went toward the courthouse as fast as his bad hip would allow.  His buddy kept up beside him, asking "Kit, what's going on?"

Finally Grandpa looked over and said he was going to teach him a lesson in manners.  

The object of his ire looked over and saw Grandpa coming.  They say he turned white and took off running.  Two men held grandpa until the other was gone.  They didn't want him to get into trouble.  Grandpa, Dad, and my uncles all looked for the offending individual, but he did not return to the area for a couple of years.

I was stationed in Okinawa, Japan when I got the news that he was in the hospital, and probably would not make it.  I took the first available flight back to the States.  When I got to the hospital, in Lexington, he was lying in a coma.  There I stood a twenty-four year old, grown man, in the military, with tears streaming down my face.

I was holding his hand and told him that as soon as he got out of the hospital, I would take leave so that we could go fishing, again.  At that point he squeezed my hand.  I know they say people in a coma can't understand you, but I believe he did.

A couple of nights later, I had a dream.  It was very vivid.  Grandpa came to me and told me I could stop worrying, that he was ok, now.  I woke up and hurried into the living room, telling everyone of my dream, and I knew Grandpa was going to be, alright.

Dad looked at me and said, "I'm sorry, but he died last night."  At that moment I was crushed.  As I look back, I truly believe it was Grandpa letting me know he WAS alright. 


It has been close to thirty years since he died, but I still miss him.  I hope someday we can go fishing again.

Saturday, November 16, 2013

The Flying Salesman

The Flying Salesman

I was five in 1964, and we lived in a trailer park in Greenwood, Indiana.  Mom and Dad both worked (Dad often had two jobs) in order to get ahead.  One summer day a salesman came by while I played in the front yard.  "Is your Daddy home?" the man asked.  I looked at him and very seriously said "Yes, but he doesn't like salesmen."  He just laughed and said thanks.  He went to the door and rang the bell. 

My father answered and the man asked him if he could show him the magazines he was selling.  My father told him thank you, but no thank you.  He had no interest in magazines, and they could not afford to purchase anything at that time.  The salesman told Dad that he was new and needed to practice.  Would Dad please let him tell him about his merchandise, if for nothing else, the experience would help the salesman.  Dad relented and invited him in.

He started asking where my father was from; then spoke of how beautiful Kentucky was, and how friendly the people were.  He went on to spend over an hour going over all of his products.  At the end of his presentation, he pulled out an order pad and started asking Dad for his personal information.  "What are you doing?" my father asked.  The salesman stated he was filling out an order for my father.  Dad said "I told you before you started, we cannot afford to buy anything."  "Do you mean your not going to buy anything at all?" the man asked incredulously.  "No." my father answered.

The salesman went "I can't believe you let me spend this much time, if you weren't going to buy anything!"  Dad said "I think you better leave."  The man goes "All of you hillbillies are cheap!"  My father was a big man, and at this point was getting angry.  He looked at the salesman and said "There's the door.  HIT IT!"  The man walked to the open front door and just had to say something else.  "Cheap bast--"

At this point Dad had had enough.  He grabbed the man by the shirt collar and the seat of his pants, kicked open the screen door, and threw the man off the front stoop.  As the guy went off the steps, it looked like he was running in mid air.  He hit the ground, ran face first into the trailer in front of us, and fell back onto the ground.  He jumped up and went running toward his car. 

I remember as he ran past, I called "I told you he didn't like salesmen!"  Some people just won't listen.

The Wagon

The Wagon

When my father was about thirteen, a neighbor bought a new hay wagon, of which he was very proud. He kept it beside his barn at night.  One evening, a few days after the purchase, Dad and a couple of friends went to the farmer’s place. They took the wagon apart, carried it piece by piece to the roof of the barn, and reassembled it.

Dad went to the Scott's Chapel Schoolhouse, and on the way to school, Dad passed the neighboring farm. The farmer was in the barn lot, looking at the wagon on top of the barn, and scratching his head. He was stumped, how did the wagon get on the barn roof?

Dad stopped, looked at the barn, and asked what happened. The farmer just shook his head and said “Dang, if I know!”

“How will you get it down?” Dad asked. The farmer just shook his head.


Dad stood there for a couple of minutes, then said “If you can wait until after school, I will get a couple of friends, and for ten dollars, I’ll bet we can get her down.” The farmer was happy and thought this a great idea. As Dad left, they were both smiling.

Otha Allen

Otha Allen

My family moved to Indiana when I was young, but every summer I would head back to Casey County to spend several weeks with both sets of my grandparents.  While at the Choate farm I would always go to visit my g-uncle Check.

Check's real name was Otha Allen, and he was my grandmother's younger brother.  He died in 2001, at age 84.  I don't know where the nickname originated, but I have never heard her use it.  To her it was always Otha.

He was a favorite of all the visiting grandchildren.  He would make us popguns from poplar, sling shots, bows and arrows, and the girls sometimes got a homemade doll.  He was very poor, but he often gave the kids money, that he could ill afford.

I was forty-two two when he died, but my whole life he believed something was killing him.  He believed he inhaled glass dust from a broken car window, and the glass was cutting his lungs.  He often swore he had cancer.  He truly believed this, and my father said he had been the same way all of HIS life.  The truly ironic part is, though he believed he was dying, he probably walked over ten miles a day.

When I was about ten, I asked him why he never married.  His answer was, "I noticed that when people marry, they have children, grow old, and die.  If I never marry and don't have kids, I should live forever."  It worked for him for 84 years! 

He was such a nice man that all of us grandnieces and nephews, and later great- grandnieces and nephews, would rush as soon as possible to see him.  He gave me my first sling shot. 


People would often get exasperated with his constant complaining, but his kind heart more than made up for it.  Uncle Check is greatly missed.

Friday, November 15, 2013

James Eddie Allen

James Eddie Allen

I used to enjoy spending several weeks, every summer, with family Kentucky.  While there, every day seemed an adventure.  From age ten, I used to spend hours roaming the woods around the Choate and Miller farms, there were a lot of kids near my age to play with.  Not only was there plenty to do, but some of the people I got to know will stay with me my whole life.  One such individual was my Grandma Choate's older brother, James Edward Allen, but everyone called him James Eddie. 

He lived on the far side of my grandparent’s property.  When I was young he and his wife, Mary Jane, lived in a little one room building.  Later he moved into an old pick-up truck camper.  When he saw a strange car parked at my grandparents he would walk down to see who was there.  That old man was still walking miles, every day, when he was ninety!

James Eddie had either a photographic memory, or very close to it.  He had the Bible memorized, he could quote any passage you wanted.  He could also tell you what happened on almost any day of his life.  His memory was unbelievable, but he had little formal education.

In 1923, at the age of 12, after one too many beatings, James Eddie ran away from home.  Believe it or not, he live for a year in a hollow tree, before family convinced him to come back home.  Home life was not easy for James, he was the oldest child of a deceased mother, and his father had remarried.  Unfortunately there was little love lost between the new wife and the existing children, and since James Eddie was the oldest, he received the most beatings.  He left home for good a couple of years after his return.

He always regretted not going to war in WWII.  He believed he had a vision where a hand led him to a grave.  In that grave was supposedly someone who died because he did not serve.  He was always kind to us kids, and could tell some good stories.  His speech was always very old fashioned, like you would expect from the 1800s.

He and his wife Mary Jane had a child that died as a baby.  I believe she went a little crazy after that.  She loved kids and would always come down and want to play with the visiting children at Grandma and Grandpa Choate’s house.  She was like a child herself.  She died in 1978, at the age of 49.  It seems an odd pairing; even though James Eddie was strange, his IQ had to be off the charts, and she was a very simple person.  They seemed happy together, though.

As I said James Eddie was always nice to kids, but he was someone you didn’t want to antagonize.  When he was about sixty, some young men decided it would be fun to put a scare into the old man.

At about three in the morning those young men went sneaking out to his home.  They surrounded the shack and lit firecrackers, while throwing rocks at the shack, all in an attempt to convince him he was under attack.

Two things they forgot to consider were, he did not scare easily and he was heavily armed.  He threw open the windows on the sides of the building, and opened fire on the flashes in the dark.  He had several guns and a lot of ammunition.  The boys hit the ground and ducked behind trees.  When he stopped to reload, they took off. 

They ran through the woods, screaming, falling, and running into briars and trees.  James Eddie calmly reloaded and went back to bed.


James Eddie’s favorite pastime was just walking up and down the ridge, every day.  I’ll bet he knew more of what went on in the area than anyone ever knew.  If someone wanted to talk, he was happy to oblige.  If they didn’t, he would just keep on walking.  James Eddie was born Mar. 20, 1911, and died Dec. 13, 2003.  He was 92.