A Census Enumerator Ancestor

May 3, 2016 by oldageisnotforsissies54 Filed Under: Genealogy

About four decades ago I was looking for an ancestor in an 1850 Jefferson County, Florida census. Those were the not so good old days when we didn’t have computer search engines or Ancestry.com.

I spent a good bit of time looking for him. I knew he was there because of an index. Sadly, though, the index I was using didn’t show the page numbers; and I was too inexperienced to realize that there were other indices that did have the page numbers.

Jefferson County, Florida is in North Florida

Fortunately, Jefferson County was and still is sparsely populated, so it didn’t take too long. I learned something that day, though. By the time I found him I had a good idea of who else lived near by his family and who else was already living in the county.

I recognized a lot of the names, because I grew up in Jefferson County. Not in 1850, of course. As far as I know, there are no vampires living there. :). A lot of people I grew up with, though, had the same surnames as many of those in that census.

Finally, there he was, William H. Andrews, the second from the last name on the census; and immediately below was a declaration and his signature. He turned out to be the census enumerator. All of it was written by him, and his handwriting was very good.

I learned a lot about about him and his family that day, but I also learned something that has continued to help me with my genealogy research over the years. I didn’t realize how special this genealogy technique was or that it actually had a name until I went to the 2015 National Genealogical Society Annual Conference in St. Charles, Missouri last year.

There on the agenda was a class about recreating an ancestor’s community of who lived nearby and who became relatives later or were already relatives. It seems I had stumbled on a research technique.

Now that I’m writing a book about William Andrew’s wife, Mary, this information became very important as I tried to reconstruct her life using any information I can find.

I’m at the National Genealogical Society’s 38th Annual Family History Conference, entitled “Exploring the Centuries: Footprints in Time”. It is being held this week in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida.

Florida is truly a diverse state and has always been, including Native Americans, Spanish, Irish, English, Welsh, French and African Americans. The only group they left out in the brochure are the snowbirds. These migrations left many, many footprints over time; and the state is full of family researchers working to discover those footprints before they are swept away forever.

Many of those family researchers belong to the Florida State Genealogical Society, who is the host for this conference. There are dozens of Floridians who are volunteering down here. The opening address tomorrow focuses on how ordinary Floridians such as the farmer, the teacher, and the laborer shaped Florida’s history and today contributes to our understanding of who we are.

Over the next four days a variety of lectures will feature all kinds of genealogical tools such as research techniques useful to both the beginning and the advanced researcher, a DNA chromosome mapping workshop, and other aspects of DNA tests and results analysis, just to name a few. Other lecture topics also focus on Jewish, African American, Caribbean, Florida Cracker (my words), military and British Isles research.

It is an excellent opportunity to hone my research skills. I’ll let you know how the next four days go.

Meet Lisa Louise Cooke, Genealogist Extraordinaire

March 7, 2016 by oldageisnotforsissies54 Filed Under: Genealogy

A good half of my retired time is spent doing genealogy, and Lisa Louise Cooke has become a major part of my training for all the new techniques and media used by modern-day amateur genealogical researchers.

I cannot remember how I found her, but I was already listening to her podcasts before I went last May to the National Genealogical Society’s Annual Conference.

Here’s the rub, though. I began listening to her podcasts sometime during the past year, but she had been doing these podcasts since 2007. When I started out, I had over 150 to catch up. Honestly, they were that valuable in the information they contained.

Well, I finally caught up while training for the Great Florida Cattle Drive, which Chuck and I did recently. Training required walking up to eight miles every day. Walking the full eight required about two and a half hours a day. I walked each day while listening to her podcasts. I caught up about two weeks before the cattle drive.

Lisa Louise Cooke is the owner of Genealogy Gems, a genealogy and family history company. She is Producer and Host of the Genealogy Gems Podcast. This online genealogy audio show can be found at www.GenealogyGems.com, in iTunes, and through the Genealogy Gems app. I use her app, and it even helped me maintain my place in playing her podcasts.

The Genealogy Gems podcast is about an hour long and a new one plays every month. These inspiring podcasts bring genealogy news, research strategies, advice, and expert interviews; and I can listen to them almost anywhere–walking, driving, or even sitting in my living room. Before training for the cattle drive, I used to listen to her on my iPhone while working in my garden.

She has also written several books, including “Turn Your iPad into a Genealogy Powerhouse”, “How to Find Your Family History in Newspapers”, “The Genealogist’s Google Toolbox”, and “Genealogy Gems: Ultimate Research Strategies”, and the video series “Google Earth for Genealogists.” I have several of these and found them very beneficial. Thanks to her, I no longer lug notebooks and papers into libraries, now I just carry my iPad.

Lisa works closely with “Family Tree Magazine” as producer and host of the Family Tree Magazine Podcast, a regular article author for the magazine, and curriculum developer and instructor for Family Tree University.

She is also sought after as a genealogy speaker.
She is married to Bill, the proud mom of three daughters, and like me has added the role of Grandma to her resume.
If you get a chance, check her out. She’s a shining star in her field.

So What Does It Mean to be a Native?

February 19, 2016 by oldageisnotforsissies54 Filed Under: Genealogy

You’ve heard it before. Someone says, “I’m a fifth generation Floridian.”; but what does that really mean?

Does it mean that their great-great grandparents moved to the state and was the first generation Floridian in their family?

Or does it mean that the person who said this was the fifth generation of their family to be born in Florida? The first one born here being a second great grandparent.

In your opinion, what does it mean to be a fifth generation Floridian? Please answer in the comments section below and please explain your answer. I have my own answer and rationale, but I would like to hear yours.

A Deer In the Cattle Herd

February 4, 2016 by oldageisnotforsissies54 Filed Under: Genealogy, Great Florida Cattle Drive 2016, Palmetto Pioneers

During the Great Florida Cattle Drive one night at dinner, Chuck and I had the pleasure of listening to some young girls from Ocala talk about the excitement of what happened when a deer jumped up in the herd. The girl’s group were riding with the cattle, so they got to experience this first hand. It was exciting listening to them describe the pandemonium it caused.

I walked away that night with a story for my book “Palmetto Pioneers”, and this morning I wrote a brief scene. It is below and is still a little rough, as I will make changes to it as I gather more information; but I thought you might be interested in how I fit their story into mine.

A Deer in the Herd

It has been family lore that several of the Walker brothers came down to Jefferson County, Florida from South Carolina and got things ready for their parents. We do not know if just the men came first and then brought down their wives and parents or if the men brought their wives and families and then sent for their parents. Those particulars have been lost over time.

We do know that Mary’s brother Little James was born in 1826 in South Carolina and that her next sibling William was born two years later in Jefferson County, Florida.

Cattle graze at a rate of about eight miles a day. When driving a foundation herd, such as what the Walkers brought with them in 1827, that is about how fast the family moved daily because there was no way to carry forage for the cattle. The cattle had to literally eat their way over 400 miles to Florida.

This means it took them at least 50 days to drive their cattle from near Walterboro, South Carolina to Monticello, Florida. I believe they probably stopped to rest at least one day a week, which adds seven days. Add a half dozen more days, and we get about 63 days or a little over two months that it took them to make the trip.

Their best time to travel would be in the fall, since it would have been better to get their cabins built before the bitter cold of December to February. By March North Florida is beginning to warm quickly, and it is past time to begin preparing for crops. The families would have wanted to be there in time to plant again.

Below I tried to recreate what a typical moment might have been on the trail as they made their west and south of present day Macon, Georgia. The trail went from Walterboro to Augusta to Macon, down the Hawthorne Trail and down through north of Tallahassee near Coon Bottom. These are all current names, as several these places had different names back then.

This is Mary’s story. She was five when they made the move to Tallahassee.

* * *

I remember it well. Daddy and my uncles came in all excited. Mama and my aunts had them a good pot of stew to warm them up. This morning it was cold and wet, where it had rained the night before. Fall was definitely giving way to winter.

We had been gone almost two months. Last night Daddy talked about how the cotton would have been picked by now. Granddaddy and Grandma Walker were handling it for all of us. We were already missing them.

But today, the conversation around the fire was all about a deer that had jumped up in the herd. The poor thing was probably hunkered down in the wet brush and let the cows almost completely surround her before she decided to make her escape.

Deer were like that. Daddy says that this is how they protect themselves from predators. They just get real still.

One time Henry and I were walking back from Grandma and Granddaddy Walker’s house, and we were walking through the woods pushing our way through some low green vegetation. All of a sudden a tiny fawn just jumped up from under our feet.

We were literally inches away from stepping on the little thing. Mama said that the fawn’s mama was probably out foraging and had put the fawn there for safekeeping. She had probably told it not to move no matter what.

I remember asking mama if animals talk to each other. She said, “Mary, why do you ask such questions? I don’t know. And don’t get too friendly with any of these animals, because that is how we eat.”

Uncle Littleberry, who was standing next to the fire with steam coming off his clothes, said that the poor deer just didn’t know where to go and ended up springing this way and that, bouncing off the cows and causing them to stampede.

He added, “It was wild. The deer bouncing this a way and that’a way, the cows parting and stampeding in different directions, and all of us on horseback not knowing which way to go first. It took us several minutes to get the cattle to settle down and come back together. ”

All of us children were hanging on every word. “Was it hurt?”, said Henry. “No,” said Uncle Littleberry, “it didn’t look like she was; but it sure scared her”.

Mama, Aunt Elizabeth and I were hurriedly trying to keep the men’s plates full and their coffee cups filled. We had had trouble getting a fire going when we finally stopped today. The wind was beginning to pick up, and the temperature was dropping.

We all knew that there would be no fire that night when it was most needed. The front pushing through made a fire dangerous.

We were lucky that the rain stopped about mid-morning. At least least we had a fire to cook up a good dinner. Mama, Aunt Elizabeth, and Aunt Mary Jane cooked double so we would have enough for supper tonight. It wouldn’t be as good as having it warm, though.

While we were cooking, the little kids gathered firewood, berries and anything else that might be usable. I helped with the cooking when I could but it was my job to keep Sarah Jane from getting into trouble and to listen out for Little James. Mama had just nursed him, and he was asleep under the wagon by one of the back wheels.

As soon as the men finished they went back to the herd and all of us packed the wagons back up and began following. My mama and all my aunts could handle the oxen. Mama said that the soreness she felt those first weeks was gone now. She also said that her hands would never be the same again. They were rough and calloused.

Day 4 of the Cattle Drive–Flooding & a Stampede

January 28, 2016 by oldageisnotforsissies54 Filed Under: Genealogy, Great Florida Cattle Drive 2016, Travel

The Mess Tent

Every evening here on the Great Florida Cattle Drive we got an update on what to expect the next day. We split up into six different regions, and each region has a circle boss. We camped with our regions and rode or walked with our regions, and each day a different region moved forward to ride with the herd.

We expect storms and much rain tomorrow.

Tonight, though, they told us that we will ride tomorrow rain, shine, or lightning. They thought that we should not be near the big metal and canvas tent that follows us for every evening stop. Also, it wouldn’t be safe to stay in our personal tents either. They also said we would leave at 8 am, same as the day before. They wanted to beat the rain.

So after the evening’s entertainment by a cowboy poet, we went back to the tent. I looked up the hourly forecast to see what to expect. It showed a 60% chance of rain beginning at 1 am and continuing to rise until 8 am when it was 85% rain. Oh boy! We were already stressing about breaking camp in the rain.

Stampede

We went to bed early, but about 1:15 a.m. the rain woke me up. Then it stopped fairly soon thereafter, so I quickly got up to go to the port-a-potties. As I was unzipping the tent, I heard a calamity outside. It was close. It sounded like a runaway stagecoach ran right past our tent. I wondered if someone had left a wagon hitched, and their stock had run away with their wagon.
I stepped out of the tent and looked and listened for any more signs of runaway horses. Then I listened hard for stampeding hoofs. When I thought the coast was clear I ran across to the port-a-potties. Horses all around us, who were still penned, were noisily fussing back and forth to each other.

While I was at the potties I could hear people yelling to each other. I heard one man yelling in the dark, “Is anyone hurt? Is everyone ok?” Then I heard talking, something about a tent; and I thought, “Lord, I hope they weren’t dragging a tent.”

There are lots of tents in the camps, and most are little pulp tents, several darkly colored. It was starting to get a little scary. I wondered if the rain had softened the ground, and some horses had gotten loose and were running together.

As I walked back to our tent, I passed a lady leading a horse in the other direction. This one had one of those little lights on him. A lot of the horses have these, and it helps us to keep from walking into one of their temporary pens in the dark.

As I watched another person leading a horse, I heard someone down at the end yelling, “Has anyone lost a horse? Check your horses!” So I figured there were at least three who ran away. I still had no idea what they were dragging behind them.

I settled back down and looked over at Chuck but he was sound asleep. All that noise, and I don’t think he even moved.

So I got back in my sleeping bag, when I noticed all this chatting. I laid there wondering what was going on. It sounded like about a dozen or more people were talking, so I got up and unzipped the front to see what was going on at 1:30 in the morning. Over at the port-a-potties were two lines of people waiting and talking. I guess the horses woke up a bunch of people that had to go.

Time to Move Them Out

Breakfast was right on time at 6 am, and it had been steady raining all night since after the horse stampede. And now it was also windy, but it was a nice breeze. Kind of refreshing.

The thought of breaking camp in this wind and rain, though, was daunting. We thought it was ludicrous to make everyone move in this rain. We talked about balking, but we knew we wouldn’t do it. We’re cattle just like those bovines we’re driving.

So instead we got a miracle. About the time we got back and starting rolling up our bedrolls and repacking, the rain stopped. We hurried to take advantage. The wind was helping, too. It was actually drying things out a little. We broke camp in record time, carried our 60 pound bags to the stock trailer, and caught a wagon for the day.
I can walk this one, because the blisters are basically gone. It is supposed to be a short day, but we don’t know how much water is in our path. Everything down here is super saturated. So we decided not to risk it and fall behind again.

We hopped a ride on a large wooden red wagon driven by Bryce from Zolfo Springs. Two very tall mules pulled the wagon.

Believe me, this was the life of Riley after the last two days. We sat high up and could see forever. At times we followed right behind the cattle. We watched them collect the strays and bring them back in. We watched the Cowmen do their jobs.

With us in the wagon were Edith and several students from the College of Agriculture at the University of Florids/IFAS. One was from Ag Education & Communication, another was studying Animal Sciences. It was fun to talk to them. Their enthusiasm was great! Of course, it helped that I spent nine years working for IFAS at UF.

The driver and I discussed what might have made up the Walker’s foundation herd of cattle for my book. This is Mary’s family. He and I both agreed that they were probably a smaller species of cattle from Britain that bred well with Florida’s scrub or Cracker cattle and which also gave good milk. We both read about this breed that were brought to the new world by the British and had done well in state’s like South Carolina where Mary and her family drove their cattle from to Florida.

I also noticed the wagon driver trying to fight the monotony of the job. Every once in a while he quickly pulled back on the reins before his mules bumped into the wagon ahead. Also, the wagon behind noticed that we had a wheel that was dragging. They yelled, “Hey, your back left wheel’s a draggin.” I was getting rich material for the book.
On this part of the drive we drove the cattle through long leaf pine and loblolly pine forests with a palmetto floor. It was especially beautiful seeing the bright green raindrops glistening on the fronds. It was even more striking with the hundreds of cattle and horses with their riders weaving through the woods, many of which were wearing their Stetsons and yellow slickers. What a sight!

By the way the photo below was by Carlton Ward. None of us captured this better than him. You can see more of his work at his website. You can link to it here.

Photo by Carlton Ward, Great Florida Cattle Drive

By the way signal problems aren’t the only problem out here. I ran out of chargers. I have only one left. I don’t know how long it will last. So when the posts stop, I’m sorry. I’ll keep writing and will post the last days of the cattle drive on Saturday or Sunday when we reach a hotel room and a hot bath. (Note: I was able to get help from others, so the posts kept coming.)

We are glad we didn’t try to walk today. It is boggy and there are major ponds in the low places of the roadbeds. At one point I noticed that it came up to the bellies of the team of mules following us.

Speaking of the mules, I just love to hear them bray. It is like a long bellowing screeching exhale, followed quickly by several staccato snorts with a squealing sound as they suck air back in. The two behind us sounded off several times. I haven’t heard it in years, and it is a wonderful sound like something from my childhood.

We drove the cattle through Three Lakes Wildlife Management Area. I’ve been here once before but it was back when I worked at the Florida Game and Fresh Water Fish Commission in the 1990s. Mostly this part was a pine forest with a palmetto floor. There is standing water, though, throughout the forest. Later, we moved through a campground with mostly hunters, and they came out to watch the spectacle. I guess we are quite a show.

Finally, we got to our lunch and evening camp. We are done for the day by 1 pm. It has been a beautiful day. Chuck and I loved every minute of it.

Problem is, though, it started raining almost immediately; and we had to pitch the tent in the rain. Fortunately, it doesn’t leak. Unfortunately, it poured from then until we went to bed.

Chuck and I got out the camp chairs and sipped bourbon. After a while, the rain was just a nice addition. The cracker cattle grazed in a penned area right next to the camp. There are several Longhorns there who are definitely the dominant ones.

At dinner when they served swamp cabbage, we heard from almost everyone that their tents were leaking like a sieve. Our tent is new; but we’re thinking ours will begin leaking, too, sooner if not later.

By the way, remember the runaway horses who stampeded past our tent last night? Well, we finally heard the rest of the story. It seems a horse got lose but was tied to his feed bucket. He ran and the louder that bucket made a racket following along behind him, the faster he got.

While trying to get away from his feed bucket, he ran through several of those temporary pens where other horses were housed for the evening. Those horses joined him and the bucket and the ropes and other pieces of metal from the pens was what was clanging behind them as they stampeded through the camp. They snatched up a lady’s tent as they ran through, but I think they just pulled it down as they passed. I heard she was unhurt.

Wish us luck that the rain stops, and we have no more stampeding horse incidents.

Some pictures from earlier years are below.

.
Young and old riders.

Day 2 of the Cattle Drive, Monday’s Misfortune

January 25, 2016 by oldageisnotforsissies54 Filed Under: Genealogy, Great Florida Cattle Drive 2016, Travel

The cattle drive was a misadventure from the moment we got up. About the only thing that went perfectly was the alarm clock that rolled us out of bed on time. Thus, this is how our day began on the Great Florida Cattle Drive, 2016.
I spent time to dress in period clothing. I wanted to think about Elizabeth Walker and her 400 mile walk from South Carolina. What was it like for her to follow her husband all that way behind a foundation herd and dragging along their five children.
As I put on each garment, I tried to imagine what her mornings might have been like. Did she dress quickly and get cooking right away, or did she pick up and feed the baby first. Did Jesse get up first and make her a fire?

I tried to dress quickly, not just because I thought she probably did it that way but also because it was cold. I could see my breathe. I quickly slipped on a pair of pantaloons, a long under slip, chemise, ruffled petticoat and finally over all this a full-length brown skirt and white blouse.

I have to admit that I fudged though. For the low temperatures I added a white turtleneck under the blouse–one that I had worn the day before. Lord, I was tired before I even stepped out of the tent.

Breakfast was standing in a long line for a long time; but the grits, bacon, eggs, sausage, biscuits and gravy were wonderful.

Breaking camp was an adventure in itself. The tent was soaking wet. It was 36 degrees when we got up with a heavy dew. On the positive side, the waning full moon was wonderful. It was like sleeping under a spotlight in the tent. I never had to have a flashlight to go to the port-a-potty, three trips in one night. geesh!

On three different occasions runaway horses flew near our campsite. All three were already saddled, and one ran through with another unsaddled and unbridled horse following her. One of the horses caused another man’s horse to get a little crazy, and I felt in danger while rolling up the tent of being stepped on by the whirling horse. I jumped up and almost ran over a very surprised Chuck. All the horses were frisky and competitive with so many other horses so close by.

We were required to load our two 60-pound duffel bags and deliver them to an assigned stock trailer. Everyone was throwing theirs in, but the glut of duffels at the door were stacked too high for us to do the same. So Chuck being the Good Samaritan that he is, got up in there and began moving them farther back. People started bringing theirs in and throwing them to Chuck. He spent a good 20 extra minutes there, too nice to let them know that we were not the hired hands.

So that is how we missed the wagons, which we were supposed to walk beside. We looked up and they were almost out of sight. We thought it wouldn’t be a problem, since there were still hundreds of horses and riders milling around waiting for their turn to go. We set out on foot and began our journey.

We thought we were walking eight to ten miles today. We were wrong. It turned out to be 13, eight before lunch.

There has been a lot of rain here; and all the ditches, streams, and wet prairies are full. Within an hour, our feet were soaking wet. Waterproof doesn’t mean a thing when the water is over your shoe tops.

Chuck slid partially into a stream once. By then the temperatures had risen considerably. It dropped to 36 last night but by the time we finished it was in the low 70s.

Riders kept passing us. A lady named Edith from Gainesville joined us. She was walking by herself and caught up with us when we were looking for a way to cross a swollen stream.

Together the three of us kept moving along. Finally, I began to get a blister after about six miles of walking in wet socks. An EMT truck stopped to help and that was the last we seen of anyone else.

We walked from field to field, through unimproved pastures and improved pastures, following tree lines, crossing into gated fields, and all we had to guide us were tracks and fresh horse manure. We took several wrong turns and had to backtrack.

One time we walked over a quarter mile not knowing if we were exactly on the trail or not until we stumbled across a family in a broken down covered wagon, waiting for for the forest service to come pull them out. They offered water and cookies, and I would survive to regret not taking them up on the offer.

The countryside was beautiful though.

Me and Edith

Lunch came and went. We knew that they were stopping for lunch, but we had no idea how far we had fallen behind.

About 12:30 pm the Johnelle in me revolted and refused to go any further without rest and some food. We stopped under some pine trees and dined quickly on water and peanuts. Thank goodness Chuck brought a large zip-lock bag of nuts.

In the meantime Edith called her daughter to see how far ahead of us the group had stopped for lunch. They were over two and a half miles away. We asked for a rescue, and two young men came back in a four-wheeler to pick us up.

We caught up with the group and called it a day.

Edith’s daughter was holding two lunches for us, but her horse ran away and she was out chasing after it. We didn’t dare let the drive’s wagons and chow wagons leave without catching a ride, so we came into the evening camp around 3 pm without lunch.

I remembered Maple Nuts that we had bought at Bass Pro Shop; and we drank more water and shared these, too. So that was lunch–Maple nuts and water

What a day. We are discussing just how we should do the drive tomorrow.

Hopefully, we’ll make it; but we’re thinking that we may try to only do a half day, if we can get a ride again.

Also, we never saw the cattle all day long, except until they came in for the evening. They left before we finished breakfast this morning, and they left lunch before we got there. Not exactly the experience I expected, but what a misadventure!

I also realized that I had not thought about Elizabeth since we left the morning camp.

There is a little of everything out here. People dressed in western or in period costumes. One young cowboy dressed like Rowdy Yates. Some look like they’ve been rode hard and put up wet.

We have men who dressed like saloon card sharks and ladies dressed like pioneer women. One woman dressed like a soiled dove, and she’s quite popular. Very interesting group. These are pictures from one of the two earlier drives.

Day 1 of the Great Florida Cattle Drive, 2016

January 24, 2016 by oldageisnotforsissies54 Filed Under: Genealogy, Great Florida Cattle Drive 2016, Travel

We got to Whaley Ranch on Canoe Creek Rd. about 20 miles south of St. Cloud, Florida a little after 3 pm for the cattle drive. We will spend our first night here.

Check in went quickly, as did setting up our camp. Below are our Cattle Drive neighbors. We are in Camp 1 containing mostly North Florida people, I believe. We in Camp 1 all have green bandannas.

After setting up camp, they told us to take our car to the Cattle Drive ‘s trail’s end, which was about seventeen miles away. There, we were to leave the car and catch a shuttle for the return.

While we were waiting and talking to a small group of people, a pickup truck stopped and asked if we wanted a ride back to the beginning of the Cattle Drive. The others said yes and began piling into the tail bed. So Chuck and I joined them, because someone said that the shuttle wouldn’t be any better but would take longer.

I haven’t ridden in the tailbed of a truck in a long time; but all six of us hunkered down back there, as the truck went faster. It was a nice 54 degrees with the sunshine adding extra warmth, but hauling ass at 70 miles per hour, it felt like 40 degrees or lower. brrrr!

We survived and got back just to the Cattle Drive just in time to line up for dinner at the mess tent, us and 498 strangers. I hardly know a sole here.

The food was good, especially the bar-b-q chicken and lemon meringue pie. Afterwards, there was music and instructions from Doyle Connor, Jr. and our trail boss. I actually know Doyle, Jr. from his days as head of the Madison County Chamber. His father was also Florida’s long-time Commissioner of Agriculture.

Just before we went back to the camp we also met with our Cattle Drive group leader. Chuck and I will be walking with the wagons tomorrow.

Getting ready for bed was very interesting. Thank goodness we brought wipes for bathing, because that is all we will have for the entire week.

We are fairly close to three port-a-potties. We have self-inflating mats and good sleeping bags for sleeping. It is 41 degrees, so we should be fine. We’ve slept in these same sleeping bags in much lower temperatures for trout fishing trips as far north as Canada.

Wish us luck for a good night’s rest. There are some horses penned directly behind us. We should be able to speak fluent neigh by tomorrow morning.

Great Florida Cattle Drive–Days Away

January 22, 2016 by oldageisnotforsissies54 Filed Under: Genealogy, Great Florida Cattle Drive 2016, Travel

We are literally days away from our participation in the Great Florida Cattle Drive of 2016. Chuck and I have been preparing for this 1850s reenactment, where several of our state’s cattlemen will drive 500 head of Florida Cracker cattle over 50 miles.
We plan to walk the drive. You can read my first post about the adventure here. We have been planning this since October.
Training began right after Thanksgiving. The first week we walked a mile a day and increased it at least a mile each subsequent week. We are now walking eight miles a day, five to six days a week. That is about how far we think we will travel each day on the drive.

We’ve also been doing it in trail boots. No athletic shoes are allowed on the trip. Also, no bright colors, which means almost all athletic shoes would have been disqualified anyway. What is it with all the neon colors on adult athletic shoes?

We’re taking rain gear because there is forecast two possible days of rain. It can get quite cool on Florida’s prairie, so the rain jackets will also come in handy as windbreakers.

We expect daytime temperatures in the 60’s and 70s with nighttime in the 50s, with the exception of one evening when it will dip down into the 40s. We’re Floridians which means we’re thin skinned, so “brrrrrr”.

A Prairie in Florida.

They asked us to wear either period clothing or western wear while on the drive. I am taking two long pioneer-style skirts and several white blouses. I also packed two pairs of jeans and a couple of flannel shirts in case it turns cool. It gets pretty windy on the prairies of interior south Florida. Most days, I will be dressing similar to the ladies in the photo below.

Everything we take including our tent, sleeping bags and clothes will have to fit into two duffles which can weigh no more than 60 pounds each. Our home office, where we’re packing, looks like a garage sale threw up in there. It ain’t pretty.
A few days ago while some of the grandkids, ages 3 to 9 were here, we pitched the new tent in the backyard. It was super easy compared to the old one.

We told them all about the cattle drive and what we would be doing. Our seven-year-old Lucas finally said, “Why?” Chuck replied, “Lucas, I keep asking myself the same question.” Chuck and I both laughed, but the kids looked confused.
One of the duffels is waterproof or at least we thought it was. I spent yesterday patching it. I have successfully patched my waders before, so I feel fairly confident I can patch this too. We’ll need this duffel for the rain forecasted days.
I’ve been thinking a lot about book’s characters, expecially Mary’s mother Elizabeth. Mary was about seven when they migrated along with a foundation herd of cattle from South Carolina to Florida in the late 1820s. Her mother was almost 30 and had had several children already.

I don’t think she was pregnant during the trip, because the next child was born about a year after they settled. She did have a baby less than a year old with her, whose birth was recorded in Colleton District, South Carolina in 1827, the same year they traveled.

Her children who traveled with her were all seven and under, three girls and two boys. Mary was her oldest.

I’ve tried to pattern my wardrobe after what I think Elizabeth may have worn. I imagine Mary had to grow up quickly in order to help her mother take care of the younger children.

Can you imagine having five young children and a husband to cook and care for while traveling over 400 miles? That was how far it was, if they used the only trail available to them at that time?

This trail or road went through the Augusta area, then the Macon area, and finally came down north of Tallahassee on the Old Hawthorne Trail through the Cairo, Georgia area. It is believed that they then took a road around the north end of Lake Miccosukee into Jefferson County. There were still Seminole Indians in North Florida, but it was peaceful at the time.

Look for updates from the Cattle Drive next week, but I have two possible problems, neither of which are Indians. One is having service, as I may not be able to receive an internet signal in this part of Florida. The other problem may be maintaining a charge. There is no electricity on the trail, but I have borrowed several portable chargers.

Photo by Carlton Ward Jr. www.carltonward.com

We leave on the trail Sunday, and we arrive at our destination the following Saturday with a “Frolic” planned at the trail’s end. I’ve invited all our kids to come and bring the grandchildren, as the Fiesta will be family friendly. I’m not sure, though, any will make the long trip down the state for the four-hour occasion.
Watch for my updates. I’ll do the best I can to keep you updated from the drive.

Training for a Cattle Drive

December 2, 2015 by oldageisnotforsissies54 Filed Under: Genealogy, Great Florida Cattle Drive 2016, Travel

“What does she mean she’s training for a Cattle Drive?” Honestly! That is exactly what Chuck and I are getting ready to do, but it will take some time and much planning

So I guess I better back up and start from the beginning. My decision for this next great adventure comes from two different directions.

First, I’ve always wanted to go on a cattle drive? Hasn’t everyone? I grew up watching all those westerns with the cowboys sleeping on the range under the wide open skies full of stars and coyotes howling from far away.

Well, this is Florida; and it is little known that we have cattlemen and cowmen, wide open places, prairies with big skies, and even coyotes.

Florida Cowmen Herding Cattle

Seminole Indian cowmen herding cattle – Brighton Reservation, Florida. 1950. Black & white photoprint, 8 x 10 in. State Archives of Florida, Florida Memory. <https://www.floridamemory.com/items/show/69965>, accessed 30 November 2015.

Here are some more little known facts. One Florida ranch owns the largest brood cow herd in the entire nation. Florida is a cow/calf state where our primary crop is calves shipped to other states to be finished and processed into beef. We are home to four of the ten largest cow/calf operations in the US.

http://www.greatfloridacattledrive16.org/cow-hunters-crackers-and-friends

Florida has the longest history of ranching of any state in the US. Florida’s landscape was once a vast area of grazing lands. When the Spanish came to Florida they brought their long-horned Andalusian cattle with them, and some escaped to survive in the wilds of our state. These cattle are called cracker cattle.

Cracker Steer

Cracker Steer, Great Florida Cattle Drive, 2016. http://www.greatfloridacattledrive16.org/cow-hunters-crackers-and-friends

Just before Florida became a territory in 1819 and a state in 1845, cowmen from South Carolina and Georgia came here bringing with them their foundation herds that interbred with the wild cattle. By the mid 1800s cowme ran large herds on Florida’s extensive open range in central and south Florida.

During the three decades after the Civil War, Florida was the nation’s leading exporter of cattle.

Penning Cattle

Owen, Blanton, Collector. Cattle in their pens at Buck Island Ranch- Lake Placid, Florida. 1984. Black & white photonegative, 35 mm. State Archives of Florida, Florida Memory. <https://www.floridamemory.com/items/show/107784>, accessed 30 November 2015.

So, I know I’m romanticizing this cattle drive thing, but so what! I still can’t wait.

More important, though, I believe this cattle drive can help me write about Mary and her family’s migration from South Carolina to Florida.
For those new to my blog, Mary is the main character in my book, “Palmetto Pioneers.”

She came to Florida as a six-year-old girl with her family, who were cattle people. They brought some of their foundation herd with them, so they drove their cattle and came down by wagons from the Colleton District near Charleston, SC all the way through the state of Georgia and into north Florida where they settled near Monticello. They made the trip about 1827.

1890s Cattle Drive

Cattle drive at Bartow. Florida, 189-. Black & white photoprint, 8 x 10 in. State Archives of Florida, Florida Memory. <https://www.floridamemory.com/items/show/26412>, accessed 30 November 2015.

Years ago, I studied the Oregon Trail and read about other great migrations. What I learned is that many of these people did have the opportunity to ride in wagons, but wagon riding is very rough. It basically causes everything from general soreness to bruising.

People usually got out and walked. Their journals are full of stories about how they basically walked all the way to Oregon, Utah, California or wherever they were going.

Great Florida Cattle Drive ’95. http://www.greatfloridacattledrive16.or

So when I learned about The Great Florida Cattle Drive, ’16, a once every decade event, I registered us.
Chuck and I signed up to walk it. It is about 40 to 50 miles, at about ten miles a day with one rest day toward the end. Their website is here.
Of course, one doesn’t go on a cattle drive every day, so Chuck and have to train for this. We’re already assessing our gear, such as dragging out the 25-year-old camp tent. I’m thinking it is finally time to retire it and get something smaller and lighter.
Also, we have to either wear period clothing or western wear. This is a reenactment of an 1850s cattle drive.
I’m thinking about what Mary’s mother might have worn for the journey from South Carolina to Florida.

State Archives of Florida, Florida Memory. Accessed 30 Nov. 2015.<https://www.floridamemory.com

I may try to reenact her outfit, but I think I’ll take along a pair of jeans and a western shirt in case I just can’t stand it anymore.
And of course, most important will be our shoes. My daughter, who blogs at “A Pixie Dusted Life”, just posted 4 Things Runners Need To Know About Their Shoes, so I’m taking notice of her tips. I won’t run the 50 miles, but we won’t be able to stop on the trail either. We’ll have to keep moving, so foot wear will be key. Her advice comes at a good time.

The cattle drive will be at the end of January. Here is a link for photos from the two prior drives. By the way these photos were taken by a young man named Carlton Ward, Jr. Check out his website here.

Carlton Ward, Jr. is a conservation photographer and an eighth generation Floridian from a pioneer ranching family. His beautiful photographs documented Florida’s often unseen world of cowmen who every day ride out to their herds on over 15,000 ranches, which raise nearly two million head of cattle.

We are so proud of this native son who has captured on film this living legacy of our long history of ranching.

Ward, Jr., Carlton, Photographer. http://www.greatfloridacattledrive16.org/photos-by-carlton-ward-j

I’m so looking forward to this adventure!! Of course, about day two or three, we’ll see how I feel then. I plan to blog from the trail each day if I can get a signal.

Hostilities in the Neighborhood

October 18, 2015 by oldageisnotforsissies54 Filed Under: Genealogy, Palmetto Pioneers

Another teaser from my book, “Palmetto Pioneers”, a story about the Andrews and the Walkers in Old Florida.

Hostilities in the Neighborhood

Indian attacks in frontier Florida were frequent, especially during the Second Seminole War. According to Congressional records, this war which began in 1835 and didn’t end until 1842 was the longest and costliest Indian war in U.S. history.

The first settlers of Middle Florida, that area between the Suwanee and Apalachicola Rivers, bought their properties from the US Government and found a land in which all the native inhabitants were not ready to leave. These first settler families scattered throughout this region and were terrified by the attacks.

Some left the area for good, some sent their wives and children to nearby relatives in places like Charleston or New Orleans, and some stayed. The Walker families decided to stay.

Here is what might have happened to sixteen-year-old Mary Adeline Walker and her family when their neighbor Rev. Purifoy was attacked and his children killed on the last day in March of 1838. The Purifoy’s lived about seven miles southwest of her family’s home. All the dialogue is created by me to tell the story.

What we do know, though, is where the Walkers lived in proximity to the Purifoys, where Mr. Scruggs and the Lightsey family lived, and what kind of day it was the morning after the incident.

It was a blustery, chilly morning; and Mary along with her mother Elizabeth were in the warm smokehouse washing clothes. Last night, a front had moved through; but the skies today were clear and blue.

Her mama didn’t wash every week, but it was time. The family had a wash shed; however, because it was cold outside they were in the smokehouse today. Her dad had moved the big boiler out there as soon as it turned cold last November.

1800s Smokehouse, Holmes County, Florida; State Archives of Florida; Florida Memory; http://floridamemory/items/show/4036

Dark-haired Mary was a tall girl, having gotten her height from her father’s side of the family. All her Grandmother Carter’s brothers and sisters were known for towering over most folks. Her mama Elizabeth, though, was average height like all the Wilson’s on her mama’s side. Both Mary and her mother were thin, having plenty to eat but too much to do.

Mary was stirring the clothes in the hot boiling water, which had been amended with ashes and lye. Her mother, always hovering, explained everything as they went.

The smokehouse was a small cubical log structure. It had a steep roof for holding in the smoke, where cuts of pork were hanging overhead. The family had had its annual hog slaughter in November.

In the center of the earthen floor was a small square fire pit where there set several boiling pots. Elizabeth said, “Now add the ashes and lye. Too much and your hands will get chaffed. Too little and the clothes will yellow.” She added that their neighbor old Mrs. Lightsey taught her this in South Carolina.

Elizabeth pushed a damp curl back from her glistening forehead and continued, “This is so much easier than the way my mama did it”. She was talking about the act of washing itself.

She went on, “We all went down to the river to do our wash, and we would have to slap our clothes on the rocks to get the dirt out.”

She hesitated as she tried to scrub a spot out of a child’s shirt. “That’s why I try to do our clothes at least every two weeks because it is so hard to get the dirt out if you wait any longer,”.

In reply Mary said, “The people in town wash theirs every Monday.”

Elizabeth frowned, “That’s too soon. We have too much to do to be in the wash shed every week.”

Mary used the large wooden fork to lift the cleaner clothing in order to let them drain before swinging them over into the wooden tub of rinse water. There was another wooden tub for blueing and starching, both on a table along the side wall.

The smoke house was steamy though they kept a window cracked. Otherwise, it was warm and humid inside. Later, they would have to remove everything and let the fire burn down, drying the air inside.

Both of them heard it at the same time. Outside, a rider was approaching at full gallop. People didn’t do this unless there was trouble.

The recent Indian massacres had everyone on edge, so much so that upon any new attacks citizens became couriers to alert their neighbors to arm themselves as quickly as possible.

Mary and her mother both dropped everything and ran around to the front of the house, just as Mary’s father Jesse and her older brothers came running in from the woods line where they had been cutting down trees to expand one of the fields.

The rider was William Scruggs, and he was so excited and out of breath that all they could understand was the word “Indians.” “James, go get Mr. Scruggs and his horse some water”, said Mary’s dad; and her eleven-year-old brother James tore out around the back of the house.

Mr. Scruggs stepped down off his horse and leaned over trying to catch his breath. He said, “Indians hit Rev. Purifoy’s house, and…”; and he looked at all the little faces looking up at him.

Jesse realized that what he had to say shouldn’t be heard by everyone, so he said, “Sarah, take the babies and get them washed up for dinner.”

“But Daddy, it’s not time for dinner,” said Sarah.

“Sarah Jane!,” her mother said and glared. Sarah started herding the little ones toward the house.

When they were out of earshot, Mr. Scruggs began again, “The Indians hit Rev. Purifoy’s house last night while he was away on ministerial duties. They drug his family out of his burning house, killed two of his children, and shot and cut up his wife real bad.”

He continued, “Mrs. Purifoy came to sometime after they left, and she tried to crawl to her father Mr. Bird’s house, but she collapsed from exhaustion. Some soldiers found her this morning. Ya’ll need to prepare cause they hit another house near Tallahassee, too.”

He took a few more sips of water while James finished watering his horse. Then Mr. Scruggs stepped back up into his stirrups and said, “I need to ride on and keep the word spreading. Jesse, can you or one of your boys here ride and let the Lightsey’s know. I’ll double back south and ride on to the Cuthberts and Bellamys. Much obliged for the drink,” and he dug his spurs deep and the horse lurched forward, disappearing down the lane.

Jesse turned to his oldest, “Henry, go tell George Lightsey what you just heard”, and fourteen-year-old Henry ran for the barn. Then her father turned to Mary, “go fetch my gun.”

Henry came running out of the barn with his saddle, and the other boys were already catching Josie, their fastest horse. Together they saddled him; and Jesse said, “Henry, make tracks. The faster you get there and back the better,” and he handed his oldest son his gun and slapped the horse’s right flank. Henry lit out north on the Salt Road.

Mary felt a knot in her throat as she watched her oldest brother ride away. She couldn’t help thinking, “Will I ever see him again?”

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