Idaho

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Washington Duncan’s

Finally, a brick wall fell down.  As some of you may remember, earlier this year I got a lead through the papers of Howard Ross regarding Beulah Ross.  He had a letter from Donna Beachell Perry in 1972 or so with an address for Beulah.  She said she wrote to her.  That finally gave me a location to pinpoint Beulah.  I then called every Duncan in the phone book within 20 miles of Zillah.  I don’t remember who I did finally get that gave me the phone number for Carol Stone in Sunnyside.  I phone her, got her e-mail, wrote to her and got one forward that had nothing to do with anything.  I have tried e-mailing several more times with no success of a response.
So I took matters into my own hands.  I wrote the Washington Secretary of State.  I actually went through his office with the Ask a Librarian program and sent off a request for any information in the archives for William Duncan or Beulah Duncan’s information.  Well, a month later, I received a pdf file with the obituaries and death notice for William and Beulah.  Her obituary gives some great leads into where to search next for some more possible clues about her family.
I already had her marriage to William in 1922.  But could never find more evidence of them in the Burley, Idaho area.  Now I think my next hunt will be to find their lives in Bend.  I looked up the records for Zillah City Cemetery and much of it is online.  However, they don’t give much more than dates for birth and death.
Anyhow, here are the records for William and Beulah.  Now I can hope I can be so fortunate to find something else on any of her siblings.

Beulah E Duncan Marshall
Valley Hills Funeral Home
Toppenish – Beulah E Marshall, 93, of Toppenish passed away on Tuesday, March 5, 2002.
She was born March 6, 1908 in Grundy, West Virginia to Robert and Minnie (Hambrick) Ross. She spent her early years in Utah and Idaho. From 1923-1931 she lived in Bend, Oregon and 1931-1942 she lived in Ellensburg. Beulah has lived in the Yakima Valley, Buena area, since 1942.
Beulah worked at Cal Pak seed pea operation from 1943 to 1955. She also worked as a fruit sorter and for 11 years at the Mother Goose Cafe in Zillah. She liked to work in her yard and keep it looking neat. She loved music and dancing and encouraged her sons to play music like their Dad.
Beulah is survived by a son, Jack Duncan of Mabton; 24 grandchildren; and 10 great-grandchildren. She was preceded in death by her parents; husbands, William J Duncan and Kenneth Marshall; three sons, Robert L Duncan, Harold E Duncan, and Ernest J Duncan, one brother and three sisters.
Funeral services will be held at Zillah Chapel of Valley Hills Funeral Home on Friday, March 8, 2002 at 10:00 a.m. Concluding services will follow at the Zillah City Cemetery.
Valley Hills Funeral Home in Zillah is in charge of arrangements.

William J Duncan
Colonial Funeral Home
Zillah – William J Duncan, 75, of 1109 Maple Way, died Monday in Sunnyside General Hospital, Sunnyside.
Born at Clinton, Ark., he had lived in the Zillah area since 1942.
Survivors include his wife, Beulah; three sons, Ernest and Robert, both of Sunnyside, and Jackie of Toppenish; three brothers, Tolly Duncan of Toppenish, Felix Duncan of Buena and Donald Duncan of Penndale, Penn.; one sister, Myrtle Marshall of Lexington, Ore.; 14 grandchildren and 10 great-grandchildren. Another son, Harold, died in 1973.
Duncan – Funeral services for William J Duncan, 75, or 1109 Maple Way, who passed away Monday, July 11 in Sunnyside General Hospital, will be held on Wednesday, Jul 13, at 2 p.m. in the COLONIAL FUNERAL HOME CHAPEL., Toppenish. The Rev. Stanley White will officiate. Burial will be at the Zillah Cemetery. Mr. Duncan was born in Clinton, Arkansas on September 26, 1901. He had lived in the Zillah area since 1942, moving there from Ellensburg. He and his wife, Beulah, were married on Sept. 20, 1922 in Burley, Idaho. Besides his wife, he is survived by three sons, Ernest J Duncan and Robert L Duncan, both of Sunnyside and Jackie A Duncan of Toppenish. He was predeceased by one son, Harold in 1973; three brothers, Tolly Duncan of Toppenish, Felix Cantrel Duncan of Buena and Donald Duncan of Penndale, Penn, one sister, Myrtle Marshall of Lexington, Ore: 14 grandchildren and 10 great-grandchildren.

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More of the same; Life

Time keeps ticking by too quickly sometimes.  I have so much to write but not as much time as I would like to do it in.  Such is the limitations in the probationary game.  There are plenty of achievements to report though in the past week or two.
This evening I spoke with Gerald Neuffer in Columbia, Missouri.  In a most random turn of events, I noticed that a Jenna Neuffer became friends with my friend, Kami Lowe on Facebook.  With a name as rare as Neuffer, I knew all odds were in my favor of having a near shared ancestry.  I sent Miss Neuffer a message and asked for her Grandfather’s name and phone number.  Which she supplied.  Come to find out, I even had Gerald already in my family history.  I just had his first name Myron (Gerald is his middle name but he goes by it.  Probably due to remove confusion with his father’s name being Myron).  He knew the Andra’s well and said he remembered Millie, who was just younger than him.  Funny how small a world it is.  He went to get his PhD and never left Columbia after moving there in 1947.  We conversed for a little while he dug for information verifying I was not this total stranger calling for his family history for some other sinister reason.  He sounds like a good guy.  He asked if I was doing genealogy.  I confirmed I was and that I was the family historian.  He then happily related he was basically that for the Neuffer/Nuffer family.  I was definitely glad to hear that.  What is the chances of the Andra historian running into the Nuffer historian in Columbia Missouri?  Very far removed from Preston, Idaho!
I received a phone call from Jacqui yesterday about the Phibbs/Ross/Beachell family.  I tried returning her call and spoke with her mother for a few minutes.  I am glad she finally returned my message.  I only left it in May!  That was before we moved!
In other news, there was an e-mail that found its way to me from Robert in Fresno, California.  A most interesting question.  He asked if I knew of any of the siblings of my Constance Jorgensen.  I always felt Constance most likely had siblings but was never able to find any.  Between her parents marriage and Constance’s birth, there is twelve years.  I was sure there were other siblings.  Olavus and Hanna Mathea Jorgensen immigrated with Constance and settled in Richmond, Utah.  Constance married Ole Christiansen and gave birth to my Great Great Grandmother Martha Christiansen who is the mother of my Lillian Coley.  Constance died in Portland, Oregon while visiting and was buried there.  In the whole episode, I knew some day I would have to do some research in Norway to find the rest of this family.  Well, Robert e-mailed me asking me if his grandmother, Amanda Jorgensen Swensen could be a child of Olavus and Hanna.  He produced a copy of a hand written copy pedigree she had produced in 1935.  Sure enough, everything lined up.  Well, Amanda was born another 12 years after my Constance (24 after the marriage of the parents).  She immigrated to Utah a good 10 years after her parents and sibling came over and settled in Logan, Utah.  By the time she arrived her parents were both deceased and her sister had married.  It seems that she never knew she was only 15 miles from her parent’s graves and her sister.  The exciting news is that Amanda gave us the names of her siblings, none of which made it to America to her knowledge.  We added the 5 siblings.  Don’t know their ages, but definitely gives some more to go from.  That will give us much more to go from when the time for the Norway research begins.
I am happy to report I completed the New Testament this evening.  I am one day late.  If I had read the one chapter a day, I would have finished yesterday.  Last weekend put me just off enough that I did not catch up in time.  I completed the Book of Mormon on schedule this year on August 27th.  Now I can go through some General Conference talks and some other reading for the year.  Next year is the Doctrine and Covenants which you can almost read three times in a year.  I think I will just do it twice though.
The ward continues to blossom when it comes to family history.  It seems like people are doing their homework, research, and compiling regularly.  I have e-mails at least once or twice a week for help on something.  That is an indication something is going on.  That is definitely something which is a good thing.
Online the family history work continues to reveal new and interesting things.  I received an e-mail from a Homer Mason.  He was inquiring concerning the Jonas family in Washington State.  Come to find out, Anna Jonas is his Grandmother.  Anna was the daughter of William Jonas who was the brother to my Joseph Jonas; father to my great grandfather Joseph Nelson Jonas.  He knows very little so it has been fun introducing him to the family.  I have especially enjoyed his research on a line of the family I have not been able to crack.  It has proved not to be an easy line for him, but with his living in Yakima, he is much closer and capable of doing the work than I can.  I really hope I am accepted to the University of Idaho for Law School.  Then I could work on the Jonas, Ross, and Sharp lines in Washington State.
Stepping back to the Andra family.  This past weekend Amanda and I took a trip to Washington DC for our monthly temple visit.  But a new aspect as emerged.  My Great Uncle and Aunt, Donald and Lolane Andra, are now serving a mission in the temple.  We went up Friday night and stayed with Amanda’s Uncle and Aunt in Springfield.  Saturday we picked up Don and Lolane and made our way to Mt. Vernon.  They thoroughly enjoyed themselves.  It was the 18th Century Fair so there were masses of people.  Don and Lolane are good and quick on their feet.  Despite being in their 60’s they move well.  Don reminds me so much of my Great Grandpa.  I get a kick out of both of them.  We were limited on time as they had to be to the temple to work later in the afternoon.  We did probably the fastest walking tour of Mt. Vernon I can imagine.  We zoomed all over the grounds, through the fair, and then back up to their apartment to change and attend the temple.
On a side note, as I went into the endowment room, I noticed the officiator’s name was John Whatcott.  I looked at him and asked if he was from Kanosh.  He looked a bit surprised at me and said he grew up there.  I told him of the Whatcott’s I knew.  After the session he asked me to remain in the celestial room so we could visit.  We had a great visit.  Come to find out he knows Don and Lolane from St. George.  Small world.  Don knew which session we were on and waited for us to leave the celestial room.  He walked us down to the next floor and we parted again.  I met Don’s Home Teaching companion, Elder Toronto, while picking up Amanda’s Aunt’s glasses from the temple lost and found.  Funny how interlinked the world is, at least in the church.
I have not made mention of it yet, but I am going from contractor status to full associate status at Bank of America.  Meaning, I will be an employee of Bank of America and not an at will person filling a seat.  Many companies now do the contractor business as they can then hire on employees after they have shown their worth.  I must have done well enough for them to offer me employment starting October 1.  I am excited.  Business has been picking up.  I don’t know if it is from the crunch in the market or what.  Bank of America definitely stands on higher ground than those feeling the squeeze or sinking under the housing market.  One thing is for sure, with this rate cut, we are expecting the next month to be hectic.
My birthday came and went just like every other day or the year.  I am back to being congratulated for it being my unbirthday.  I received all sorts of e-mails (which will take me a good week to respond to them all), many messages on Facebook, and a couple of cards and gifts.  Amanda and I enjoyed a nice big meal at Chili’s for dinner.  We joked about it being our triannual beef night.  It is birthdays or anniversary that I get to eat a steak.  Monday was a 12 oz Ribeye.  Mmmm, so good.  That is of course not mentioning the Idaho potatos.  Amanda got me a shirt, a jump drive, and something else which slips me at the moment.  I also received a journal, a few checks, and some other random memorabilia.  I honestly don’t feel any different now than I think I did when I was 19.  Except the fact my knee was reconstructed in 2004 and doesn’t give me the issues it did at 19.  So I guess I feel better than at 19.  I have filled out in stature, even added a little padding in the middle,  and perhaps a little wiser.  Life is good.
My blessings continue to flow despite my inept nature.  I continue to be given the little peaceable things of the kingdom from time to time.  They make the living and endurance all worth it.  Line upon line right?  Sometimes I wish it was more page upon page, but alas, I am not the one running the show.  Church goes well.  I feel spiritually well.  Not the muscular behemoth I would like to be spiritually, but I feel strong enough to do what needs to be done and any forseeable adventure.
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Idaho’s Craig

It seems I keep getting this bombardment of what I think about Senator Craig.  Well, here we go.
I have no quarrels with the man.  He wasn’t always the nicest man in the hallway when passing.  Then again, I don’t think I have met a Senator yet who really went out of their way to say hello.  That is the extent of my personal experience with him.  I think I said hello twice passing in the underground tunnels between the Dirksen and Russell Buildings.
Beyond that, here is my take on the scenario.  Idaho seems to like him and have always done so.  He met their needs and I think he enjoyed his role as Senator.
However, the little ordeal in Minneapolis is something that was quite foolish.  Having been in stupid positions before, I know all the little ways you try and weasel out of it.  Which it surely sounds like he did.  I am not so much concerned what happened in that stall, whether he was soliciting or not, but he played the weasel in trying to get out of it.  For the most part, he was successful.  They only charged him for disorderly conduct.  It would be hard to catch him on more unless he allowed the police officer to actually climb in his stall or he climbed in the other one.  Then I would say we have serious grounds for what his intentions were.  Picking up toilet paper, a piece of paper, with whatever hand, or just waving a nice hello to the person in the stall next to him doesn’t really matter.  To me they don’t prove anything lewd or a great breaking of the law.  Now if there was a mirror in his hand, there are some issues…
It does bother me that police don’t have something better to do than sit in a bathroom stall to find those who want to enjoy some time with another man.  On the other hand, I am disappointed that people actually do this enough that it is a public disturbance that the police have to be called in to do this.  At any rate, it is a bad note of commentary of the society that use the restrooms at Minneapolis.  I expect this is a wider problem than just the cold and snow of Minnesota.
Alright, the Senator got caught with his hand in another stall.  For what reason, I don’t think I or Idahoans generally care.  The lying or trying to back peddle out of it, that seems just human nature to a large degree.  I can even see pleading guilty to the charge to just be done with it.  How many of us could really fight that speeding ticket they say we were going 11 over when we are pretty sure it wasn’t more than 8?  But we pay it just to be over and done with it.  That seems like what has happened here.  Okay, I am fine with that.
I am somewhat concerned that a US Senator would be allegedly caught doing something like that.  I think his electorate might even think twice before reelecting him.  But what concerns me is that a Senator seems to be so thoughtless in his actions.  For his being not very nice in the hallway of the Russell Building, he sure seemed pretty nice to say hi to the person in the stall next to him.  That was not thinking.  Next, he should have made it public knowledge and just been done with it.  It is a petty situation but not reporting it to those who care about it made it stink.
But the thing that alarms me is that he isn’t willing to fight.  For a man who sits in Senator William Edgar Borah’s seat and perhaps even behind his very desk, he seems shameful.  The Lion of Idaho would be ashamed a man would falter and not raise his mighty fist to the party.  What comes first?  Idaho or Republicans?  Senator Borah was known for standing for principle, for his state, and not ever being dictated to by the party.  This man seems to be weak and willing to forfeit what he was elected to in Idaho for what the party thinks elsewhere.  I still don’t hear many people calling for his resignation in Idaho.  It is elsewhere, some of his own selfish companions in the Senate.  What happened to principle?  What happened to standing up for something?  What happened to honor and integrity.  Well, we don’t really know what happened in that stall.  Whatever it was, I hope his honour and integrity is still intact.  But sadly, it doesn’t appear to be.
A straight man doing actions confused with being gay?  A Senator claimed to be doing something in a bathroom stall?  A State Representative faltering to a Party?  If he is a good man, he will stand up and serve the remainder of his term, regardless of who calls for his resignation.  He has nothing against him which disqualifies him from finishing his term.  A Misdemeanor does not remove a Senator from office.  Even an Ethics Committee wouldn’t remove him for that.  If he serves Idaho, he will remain.  If he serves the party, he will leave.  If such is the case, good riddance.  Let’s find us another man to honorably fill Senator Borah’s shoes.
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Crowns, Adoption, and Lewdness

The final episode of the tooth isn’t quite as interesting a tale as were the previous two.  Therefore, I will have to cap it off, literally, with just saying it went smoothly and I was out within an hour.  In my remaining space, here are a few updates on life.
Amanda and I have been approached to consider adopting a child that is coming available in December.  Due to the circumstances we have tried to exhaust our mental processes for the positive and negatives sides of this situation.  For the most part we have determined we simply cannot do this right now.  It either means and end to Amanda’s schooling or costs in daycare that would put us far beyond our income.  Therefore, if you know of a good couple who are looking for a child to adopt, please let me know.
I am watching with shock at the latest releases regarding Idaho’s Senator Larry Craig.  I am ashamed a public servant could be so utterly selfish as to bring such disregard upon those he represents.  Whether he is guilty of the crime or not, the ineptitude is such to warrant his resignation or removal from office.  A writer of our laws cannot make a coherent decision of whether to plead guilty or not?  What is more, when his moral character is at stake he was willing to take a guilty plea to make it go away.  Sounds like too little integrity to me.  It seems that if a persons character is at stake, they should be willing to give all to defend in honesty that good name.  That should ring all the more true when the person’s character represents nearly 1.5 million people!  While Senator Craig has done much good, sadly such a blemish can undermine all he has done and render him useless in the future.  It is time to switch employment if he thinks these actions in a restroom are befitting of a representative of the State of Idaho and the United States of America.
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TV’s and such

It seems to be one of those weeks where there isn’t necessarily a whole lot to tell.  So to make an entry, and anything with a little length, I will offer a smattering of thoughts from all over the spectrum.
A big Happy Birthday to Chris Horsley and Amanda Smith on the 14th.  I sent them both e-mails and wished them the best.  It is my Aunt Jackie’s birthday on the 25th, so Happy Birthday ahead of time.
Tuesday night Amanda and I went to pay a visit to Doris Coley.  She lives over in Laurel Fork area.  Amanda has worked with her for some time at Macy’s.  She lured Amanda over there in pursuit of a free TV and DVD player.  I really don’t care if we own either and would actually prefer not to.  That is just a little more weight I will have to worry about moving in a year and another distraction to take away some of what little time we mortals have been given.  Somehow I had come to believe it was a venture where we would go over and pick up the newly acquired property and head back home.  We made an evening of it.  We chatted about the nice lovely pleasantries of the life at Macy’s.  Conversation turned to life in general and school.  Of course I did a full analysis to see if her Coley line could in any way be related to mine (Hers is several hundreds of years in North Carolina making at least that long of a connection seeing how mine came directly from England).
She had a nice little piano in her living room that also became conversation.  She invited me to play it and before long I was in my own land while the women pondered paths I didn’t care to walk.  Before the night had ended we sang some hymns and even ended in a discussion about religion.  I ended the evening with giving her a copy of the Book of Mormon and basically a first discussion.  Sometimes I feel I am not as bold as I once was.  Honestly, it seems that one relies upon their companion so much to bear testimony and Amanda had no clue of the missionary ways that I think that is the only reason it felt pretty weak.  Sadly, I think both of us relied on trying to convince too much rather than just bearing testimony and letting the Spirit drive it to the heart.  Amanda left thinking we had been too bold and I left thinking we had not been bold enough.  She called us a few days later and made sure we were still planning on coming back.  Either way, we don’t seem to have offended.  I look forward to a return visit and whether or not she read any of the newly introduced sacred scripture.
Tonight I paid a visit to the Family History Library outside my normal working hours.  We had a pretty severe thunderstorm this evening and the two ladies working inside decided to go watch the storm for a minute.  Sadly, they left their keys in the library.  I rushed down thinking I would find two drowned older ladies.  Luckily enough they had only locked themselves out of the library, and not the building.  So I spent some time visiting with them about the Merrick’s of Maine/Massachusetts.  They decided to leave early so I played the piano and practiced some singing until a member of the Stake Presidency appeared to practice basketball.
Tuesday night at the library also proved to be interesting.  For the second week in a row a young man who is a recent convert came into the library to do some research.  He appeared with his laptop last week with PAF newly downloaded.  He started putting in his family.  He is preparing to go to the temple and wanted to do some of his own names for baptisms in about two weeks.  He never even knew who his Dad was last week.  This week he came back with dates and places and interestingly, was able to link him into the Cosby line.  Once we did that we were able to take him back to Jamestowne and even followed the line back 1,000 years.  He comes from a noble line in England.  He was amazed to find ancestors on both of his lines whose temple work had been done.  Some as early as 1932 in the Mesa, Arizona Temple.  I look forward to seeing him this coming Tuesday when we run these names through TempleReady.
Last Sunday we had our Stake Priesthood Meeting.  We were introduced to the new Mission President, President Millburn.  I prefer him much more than the last one.  He seems much more humble and able to connect with an audience.  In addition, he gave a great talk on fishing.  He is an expert at it, that is for sure.  Who else uses a stomach pump on a fish?  President Mullins (who interrupted my singing and playing tonight) gave a talk about various topics.  One was that individuals in the stake are not carrying their weight in fast offerings.  I thought that was interesting.  None of the other talks I remember.  However, the power in the singing was easily felt.
Today I was branded again at work due to a broker’s dishonesty.  A man gave me a complete sob story about why an appraisal was sufficient.  He manipulated my inexperience in working someone else’s loan, added with the other person not recording what they had done, and my not being thorough enough to catch the little red flags has now cost the bank a loan which is considered a risk and investors will not buy it.  Due to my approving of an updated appraisal, that wasn’t really updated, and the bank always standing by their word somebody got away with money that probably would not have been approved.  Like speeding tickets with points, I have now gained my first and hope they will wear off over time…  It is a good thing I no longer have access to that broker’s information for I would surely give him a phone call and let him know how sorely disappointed I am in him.  At any rate, “Let God choose between me and thee and reward thee according to thy deeds.”
Terry McComb’s funeral is going to be this coming Saturday.  I so wish I could be there.  Alas, we can’t do everything we want in life.  His obituary appeared today in the Times News.  I looked at it this morning at work.  I am looking forward to having my own clipping from the newspaper for my records.  I guess I will just have to pay a visit to the cemetery next time I get back to Idaho.  I so planned on spending a day or two in Branson on the way home for a lesson or two.  I guess I won’t now, at least stay for lessons.
We are headed up to Washington, DC again this weekend to attend the temple.  I am very much looking forward to it.  I have very much felt my faith increase this week and my soul feeling greatly nourished after some experiences in the scriptures.  2 Peter 2 and Ether 12 were powerful this week.
We received the Church News today and I read the parts about the new Brazil Temple.  I was thinking how excited President Faust must be to have the temple dedication coming up and realized he had passed away.  I guess he will be there at any rate, but not with a mortal body.  I wonder who will be called next.  I surely hope it is someone independent from the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.  I certainly think tradition and order are a good thing but it is always nice to shake things up from time to time.  Too often people get so rigid about the way things should be done we forget the role of inspiration being mixed in the bag.  I would really like to see a President of the Church not be the most senior Apostle.  How would that be for shaking things up?  We need more John Winder’s, Reuben Clark’s, Jedediah Grant’s, Hyrum Smith’s, and Charles Nibley’s in the world.
Lastly, I will end on a political note.  I haven’t had a political candidate really catch much of the sympathies of my heart.  They seem so canned and stale I can’t stand it.  However, Obama gave a comment this week about opening up government.  Boy, if reading an article ever stopped my heart, that was one of them.  A candidate willing to give full disclosure to the public?  If that becomes his whole purpose in life, I will most certainly vote for that man.  Well, that is only after he drops universal health care.  After my experiences in England,  will never support government ran health care.  But open disclosure?  How refreshing.  That requires more effort.  That requires doing things you know the whole country can be privy to.  Where would Bill Clinton be if he had known that?  How would things be different with Bush?  Either of them?  Watergate?  Iran-Contra?  New Deal?  War?  How would the world be different?
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Farewell to Terry

 

Yesterday early afternoon I received a phone call to notify me of the death of a dear friend.  There is always an interesting surge of emotions with the death of a person, especially one you feel such a kinship with.  Somehow though, I couldn’t help but feel a total sense of relief and release.

Terry McCombs was born in Rupert, Idaho and grew up on the farm outside of Rupert.  He graduated from Minico in probably its most notable time.  He went to school when Minico was known nationally for its band program.  The high school was still under 10 years old and Southern Idaho was in the Post-war boom.  Some of his mentors both in choir and band were to forever influence his life.  There was something about the farm soil and the passion of music that set Terry on his future.

I met Terry for the first time in 1997.  I had been asked to accompany a friend, Elena McBride, on the piano for a vocal number she was doing.  She wanted me to meet her vocal coach, Terry McCombs.  There was a McComb’s in my grade who I knew and one just younger who was in choir and who I knew more through friends.  These both turned out to be Terry’s niece’s.  Our meeting took place in Terry’s childhood home where his mother still lived with Terry’s brother’s family.  We sat there at the piano and I played perhaps a few chords when Terry asked me if I sang.  I confessed that I had no singing talent whatsoever and had never really tried.  He took over at the piano bench and then began to have me try a few exercises.  He attempted for hours to get beyond my modesty (my attempt to cover a poor voice).  After several hours, Elena’s lesson turned into an reworking of my thinking concerning singing.  For the most part of which he was very successful at rewiring.  Afterward I remember Elena being upset that her lesson was all about a lesson for me.

Terry had me commit to come to a lesson with him in a studio apartment he was using within about a mile from his home.  It was a little bedroom in the loft and a little living room below with a couch and piano.  I seem to remember a small kitchen and bathroom in the entry level.  We descended into the little living room about a week later and he sat on the couch and I sat in the chair.  Terry always had it a bit on the cool side but it definitely was cozy.  He then spent about an hour teaching me the doctrine of singing.  I remember him offering a prayer that seemed to turn my heart to complete mush.  I was so overwhelmed at such a powerful experience.  Coming from an inactive LDS home, I had no real clue what it was I was experiencing.  I had prayed before, and even seen prayers answered, but never had I experienced what I did that day.  Heaven literally descended and engulfed us that day.

After teaching me on the doctrines of the restoration of all things and of singing he then went on to teach me what he knew and how he knew it.  He bore powerful testimony of what it was he was teaching that day.  I remember openly weeping for the joy that engulfed my heart and how I recognized my life changing before my very eyes.  My very nature was changing in that room.  We then went to the piano and he began to unravel to me some of my physical nature.  I admit I understood more the nature of my throat, singing, and of life then than at any point in my life, probably even since.  It was interesting how he always framed everything with a view for eternity and the building of Zion.

What came from my mouth, from my very heart, was so beautiful we both wept.  Terry sang a song for me that even today haunts me with how beautiful it was.  He then sang a song from Rigoletto that was simply amazing.  He sat at the piano and I sang a song that day which I have not been able to sing since.  It haunts me how beautifully I sang and it kills me I have not been able to sing like that since.  There was such an outpouring of the Spirit.  I do not know if I can ever share what happened that day.  The gifts of the Spirit were present and angels ministered to us.

We met many, many times again in that little elevator to the heavens.  Sadly, I don’t know what happened after a couple of months.  Whether it was my pride or influences in his life, but it began to falter.  We started meeting again in his parents house and doing lessons there which were interrupted and never of much value.  We then started meeting in his home, the old out garage converted into a studio/living room connected to a trailer.  It was never quite the same.  I really don’t know why to this day.

My Senior year at Minico brought the musical Seven Brides for Seven Brothers.  I don’t remember how many lessons before the play I had with Terry but I had such a zeal with singing now I auditioned for the play.  I had been singing in the choir now for a little while.  I totally bombed the audition but somehow I was still put in as one of the brother’s.  Honestly, I did so poorly I didn’t know if they would let me even be a dancer.  That is how badly I auditioned vocally.  I could never translate how I could sing in lessons to doing it in front of other people.  I was terrible when anyone else listened.  Even the State Solo Competition I sang for and did so poorly I didn’t even finish the song.  The choir helped me some.  Good thing it was an open class.

Terry helped a number of us quite a bit with our singing for that play.  I improved considerably under Terry but never could find the voice I had in our lessons on stage.  It drove me completely crazy to know how heavenly it could be and it just never translated outside the studio.  Our lessons continued and I learned a great deal.  We continued to cover the history of music and the mechanics of the voice.  All of which I still feel like I have a pretty good handle since I was learning them from a spiritual perspective.

Minico ended and my whole life had now become engulfed in music.  I had my musical training from band all the way from 6th grade.  I could read and understood basics of music.  I had taught myself a half dozen new instruments in high school and I wrapped up high school putting on finishing touches to play the piano in the mission and learning the master the voice.

I went to Utah State knowing how much I loved music but I would not be pursuing a degree in anything related to it.  It was completely my hobby.  I went home at least every couple of weeks.  Due to situations at home I would either stay with my Grandma or I would stay with Terry.  We often spent all Friday night in a lesson.  It was something about the two of us that somehow we connected and heaven was with us.  I don’t know if he had these experiences with others.  I know he had in the past but I sensed it wasn’t happening with others at the time.  He often expressed his frustration with me at how he wished others wanted to learn just for the sake of learning rather than trying to do it for publicity, pride, or money.  He knew I had nothing to pay him and I wasn’t about to ask my parents for more money since they were helping me through school.  I think that is one thing that changed later.  When his situation got a bit more desperate and he needed money I had nothing to offer and he was required to spend his time teaching paying students.

The time came for the mission and I was prepared.  My own research and experience on my own time had gained me many experiences with the Spirit.  I had come to gain a personal testimony of the Bible, Book of Mormon, Prophets and Apostles, Priesthood, and a bunch more.  I think one thing that was unique is that Terry had opened me up to a very different side of religion.  It wasn’t just the knowledge of it or doctrines, but it was the personal experiences with it.  Through college our lessons moved from the vocal aspects to mostly discussing religion and sharing experiences.  I had obtained many new experiences with heaven and Terry had a wealth of them to share as well.  I think many thought I was a bit crazy with how literally I was experiencing my associations with the other side of the veil but Terry always understood.  I remember my Grandma would get so excited when I told her about some of the experiences.  She would tell me of some of her own.  Mom I instantly recognized was out to kill or denounce anything of which I was experiencing.  She quickly would tell me how it was a cult and I was being brainwashed.  When I would confront her about how literally some of my experiences were she would chalk it up to hallucinating or something else.  Terry and Grandma were two who understood.

It was such an interesting road.  My roommates at college I don’t think knew how to take what was happening.  Some were very understanding at the beginning, others finally warmed to it.  By the end of the school year at Utah State we had all experienced some things together.  The turmoil and emotions of the year were difficult with my parents divorcing and the changing face in so many relations.  The roommates weathered all those and were very understanding.  But the thing I remember most is the little spiritual times I had with each of them and interestingly have bonded each of us together since.  All four of them we continue to feel very closely united even despite distance and time.

Terry offered to have someone provide the musical number for the mission farewell.  He did and I was very grateful.  Surprisingly, he offered some money to help pay for the mission that makes me blush that he would give it to me.  He never wrote a letter, I don’t think I ever wrote him a letter during those two years, but we had communication.  I remember one night I had a dream of a phone call to Terry while I served in Eccles.  It was after my Grandmother had passed away.  We chatted about a few things and I told him of my experiences with Grandma after she passed away.  He told me of some of the experiences he had with his own father after he passed away.  It helped confirm what I was experiencing.  In the dream he told me to get a copy of Parley P Pratt’s Autobiography and to read it.  After I returned home from the mission and had been home a few weeks, Terry called me.  What I had totally passed off as a powerfully spiritual dream came very close to home when he asked if I enjoyed Brother Pratt’s book.  That is just the way Terry was.

Terry asked me to come to visit him in Branson, Missouri after I returned from the mission.  I went to visit him in a heartbeat.  Terry wanted to start lessons again and asked me to move to Branson.  I went back home and made arrangements and headed out for Missouri.  It turned out to be a wonderful experience.  I thoroughly loved my time while I was there.  He mentioned that I was there for two purposes: To learn to love in a way unselfishly and to gain some great experience to carry me throughout my life.  He proved to be very prophetic on both accounts.  I learned to love in several ways which hurt terribly.  I definitely learned some lessons there.  I learned some valuable lessons in management, the corporate world, missionary work outside the mission, and family history.

Terry and I both lived under the same roof with several other families the first year I was there.  It turned to be a very wonderful experience.  I had three families I could call my own in the same house.  Each of them taught me some very important lessons.  Without going into details, it proved to be a time I still find myself thankful for in prayer.

I remember one night I had a dream where I had a dream in answer to a prayer.  I woke up afterwards and immediately went to knock on Terry’s door.  At 3:00 AM in the morning I recounted to him my experience and we both wept for joy.  He shared with me an experience where one of his prayers had been answered by dream just nights before.  This was the type of connection I had with Terry.

Interestingly, it is how merciful heaven is in dealing with us.  Terry definitely had a personality.  Some characteristics I will openly admit drove me crazy.  His little antics sometimes were detestable at how he treated others.  Even me a couple of times.  At other times I could not help but feel sorry for him with the struggles he had on so many fronts.  He had a temper.  He had his bias nature.  He had all his imperfections.  He was not a physically beautiful man by any real means.  However, his heart was something different.  I sat in on many lessons and it was interesting how completely different some of them were.  Some of them it seemed he was trying to impress them so he could gain their trust.  Some it seemed he had to debase himself to get the heart.  Others it appeared he had to bully them.  Every lesson was very different.  I never understood if he was catering to the personality of each or what it was.  My lessons were very direct, even almost unspoken at times.  It was not uncommon for a look to communicate everything.

When it came time for my leaving Branson, we both knew.  I only saw Terry a couple of times after that.  In fact, I think it was only twice after.  Once was in Utah and the last time was a year ago as Amanda and I drove on our way to Virginia.  We stopped and spent several hours with him.

I spoke with him on the phone for over an hour just a month or so ago and he was in good spirits.  It was with a bit of shock I received the phone call telling me he had passed the night before.  Somehow though, it seems like it would be the way Terry would do it though.  My first reaction was that little scoundrel did this on purpose.  But then I sensed a peace about the whole thing and it was meant to be.

In looking back, Terry always introduced me to people as the one with a pure soul.  I don’t know if it is true or not, but I always wanted to be a little better with that title.  Terry always had people who either loved or hated him.  People somehow switched those sides often with him.  I never understood why.  But something about the man endeared people and also brought on some of the strongest criticism.  But in the end he usually weathered it well.

I haven’t had any experiences with Terry spiritually for a couple of years now.  Perhaps we just grew apart.  But now that he has passed, I anticipate something small, at least for a temporary good bye.  If not, this is my little pushing off the ship of a good friend.  I will see you later mate.  I love your soul.

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July Letter from Mom

This is the latest letter.  I edited quite a bit out of it to keep it from being offensive.

Paul,

I just wrote Jill back and sent Alyssa a card in thanks for the picture she drew me of Rojo.

So I take it you are all moved and settled in your place in Richmond. So you got another house?  Or an apartment?

Aint Karma a bitch!  I tried and tried to get that prick Carlson off my case but the bias gutless bastard was not man enough to take himself off my case.  So my 2 good friends Mother Nature and Father Time took care of my problem for me.  Those obits you sent me was a joke.  That is one reason why I will not have one.  What a crock of shit.

Anyhow, I called Dunlap the 9th and he was taking off for somewhere but said he was taking my file with him.  He said he found something else in my paperwork and was investigating it.  He wants everything over and done with by the end of this month so hopefully in a couple of weeks I will leave on transport to Jerome.  Another judge has not been appt yet.  SO I am keeping my fingers crossed that everything turns out for me OK.  Then I can get out of this screwed up state and start over again.  Hopefully I can get Sis to go with me.

I did not think Milo had the guts to answer my note.  I told you he was a gutless wonder.  I sent Doug a card for his birthday and asked him to please put the plot next to Dads in my name.  I said you would probably help if needed.  Will you?

Beings you are working in a bank now are you going to forget about law, lawyering, politics and all the corruption that goes along with it.  I hope so.  The system is broken and too far damaged to ever fix.  Besides DOC is one of the biggest money makers in the country.  Then you have all the parasites that suck the incarcerated for everything with commissary, phones, ect.  I would prefer you stay away from it.  Stick to banking.  That is where the money is.  Pun intended.  You can find out for me how to get off shore accts.

I do not remember you telling me about Ross.  Hope you have fun showing Donald around.  Thanks for the info on the Jonas’.  Does not the death certificate tell the cause of death.  What or why the person died.  Like Grandpa Jonas died of electrocution.  Did you find out anything about autopsy reports.  Are not they public record?  If so then you can get them.  Autopsy reports are used in court which is public.  I know at one time I had the autopsy report of the one who got herself dead in my hands but it made me sick reading what little I did read so that means probably both the attys had a copy.  Check it out or if you run across a lawyer ask and see.  I think Colleen had Dads.  Whatever, if you come up with anything let me know.

I still caint figure out why you want a timeline of my life.  You sure are not going to get it from anybody else.  1st accident happened about 4 days after I graduated from high school.  May 26, ’72 I think.  Doug Taylor and I were up in the mountains above Oakley.  I think we were up where we used to get wood.  We had spent the night up there in his Blazer without the top on.  Doug had been screwing around trying to be cute and found a bog and stuck the Blazer in it.  It took us most of the morning trying to find big rock to put under the tires to get out.  We stopped in Oakley at a little store and got a couple cans of soup and a big can of tomato juice.  Doug did not have a drivers license so we stayed off the main high by taking the road east that ran parallel to the highway.  Doug had one of those small sport steering wheels and the juice can got stuck under the steering wheel and the seat.  Before he could get it out the Blazer drifted to the left and hit a culvert and that had big chunks of cement thrown in it where the force of the water had washed away the dirt.  Doug bounced out 1st thing and only got a scrape on his shoulder.  I rode with the Blazer being thrown back and forth like a rag doll.  The Blazer came to a stop where it hit an uprise where the ground had been cut away.  I was thrown out and the barb wire broke my fall.  I slid along the wire a little ways and ended up upside down hanging by my leg.  When I lifted my head to try and figure out whatever, it was like someone threw a bucket of blood on my arm.  I kicked down and was wedged between the Blazer and the uprise ground.  The wreck crunched the front quarter fender passenger side.  I think there was front end damage.  I busted the back of the seat so it layed flat, took out the dash with my ribs and the windshield and frame with my head.  Then I spent time at U of U Medical Center trying to make my face look like my face again.  Before I got my last operation on my face I got my hand hurt at Del Monte.

Aug 17, 73 I went to Mt. Home Air Force Base to pick up Doug (brother).  When I got back and went to work I was late.  It was break time so I was giving the other workers their breaks.  I was by the buff line squatting down picking up stuff up off the floor.  I started to lose my balance and reached back to steady myself and grabbed the chain right in front of the sprocket which pulled my hand in.  I spent the next 4 years getting my hand rebuilt.  I lived on comp for the first 2 years.  That was when I moved back to Richmond and then Logan.  After they cut me off comp in between operations I worked odd jobs.  I worked as an automotive electrical mechanic in Mt. Home (76), canning kitchen in Rupert (76).  I went to Voc Rehab at CSI (77), was the 2nd to leave and get a job which was at Motor Parts in Burley (77).  I enlisted in the Army in the DEP (delayed entry program) in Dec 77, left in Mar 78 for boot camp at Ft. McClellan Alabama, then to Ft Knox Kentucky for AIT as 63C which is track vehicle mechanic.  Was ½ through my 13 wk training in 2 ½ wks when I said fuck it cause a faggot kept getting me in trouble cause I would not play her game.  I went to my DI (drill instructor), CO (commanding officer), JAG (lawyers), IG (Inspector General) for help and no one would help me so I got out on a medical discharge.  Came back to Colleen’s in Paul and started working for Circle A.

New Years Eve ’79-’80 I put my arm through the window at the shop, cutting my arm in half and almost bled to death.  Do not know if in 79 or after midnight in 80 when it happened.  Feb 10, ’80 wrecked my jeep out by Max beet dump.  Flipped jeep 7 times end over end and side ways.  My dog is buried at Max.  Everyone standing around said I was dead.  But I am too damn ornery to die.  The picture by the little red car is when I got in the wreck with Doug in ’72.

Does that fill in some of your spaces.  I been bunged up pretty good.  Some still bother me.  In the little house when I was first living in it I walked out the front door and ** Sunday punched me and kicked me in the back right where spine and hip bones come together and ruptured the spinal column.  Between the hematoma and spinal fluid that leaked out I had a lump the size of a soft ball cut in half.  Took about a year for my body to dissolve and absorb it.  One of the war wounds that will bother me til the day I die.

Love,

Mom

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Pulaski Roots

Speaking of roots, I had a dental appointment on Friday.  Due to Measles as a baby, I have ameliogenesis imperfecta with several of my teeth.  Basically, some of my teeth have deformities.  One of which is that the nerve in one tooth reaches quite a bit higher than normal.  Also linked with the deformity of the drugs (legal!) I took in the early 80’s, those teeth are weaker and more susceptible to problems.  Many, many years ago I had a filling put in the tooth that touched on that high reaching nerve.  Over the years that nerve touching the filling, in addition to a slight tapping from the tooth having moved (from squash racket trauma about 2000), and just normal advancement of time that root has decided to pass away.  Yes, I am the owner of a slowly dying tooth.  I have been placed on antibiotics to keep the nerve from getting infected as it decays.  In the next few weeks I will experience my first root canal. 

On an interesting note, once Dr. Spitzer saw my x-ray of the teeth he quickly noted how long the roots are on my teeth.  Amanda confirmed to me later that during the freak show discussion that ensued my teeth roots were measured at 25 mm long.  Amanda tells me that the normal individual has roots approximately 15 mm long.  The dentist commented how he may have to order some longer tools to work on the tooth.  Whether it was in jest or not, I have come to appreciate how different I really am.  Deep down inside I always knew I was special.  Now I know it is a good 10 mm deeper why I am special.
So we have frantically tried to figure out how we would pay for what a root canal and crown would cost without insurance.  When in the mail today I received an invitation to join the insurance for my work.  As generous as they are, I will now have dental insurance.  Now I just have to find how long of a waiting period I will have with a tooth that has become highly sensitive to hot and cold with slight throbbing from time to time.
Anyhow, on to the story of Pulaski County, Virginia.  My Ross line left Pulaski County about 1912 and headed to settle in Rupert, Idaho.  The daughter, Fannie had married a Phibbs from Pulaski and Carroll County and moved out previously.  Her husband was the Minidoka County Judge in Rupert.  With the opening of the new Sugar Factory at Paul, the rapid expansion of irrigateable farm land, and an economic downturn in Pulaski it was time to move.  James Thomas Meredith Ross who I have written about before followed his daughter Fannie.  His other three children would follow to the west.  James would later settle in the Vernal area.  The Phibbs would eventually end up north of Sacramento, California.  John would roam for many years marrying in West Virginia, Colorado, and Wyoming.  He would die in Alameda County, California.  Robert we don’t really know what happened to other than he died in California about 1944.
While I have written about all of that previously, James Thomas Meredith Ross would leave behind his half brother William Andrew Ross.  William would marry and move to West Virginia.  He lived in Gary, WV most of his life and raised his family there.  He worked in the mines coal mines.  He and Sarah (Sallie) had 12 children.  The youngest of which is Howard Ross born in 1925.
It was Howard we went to visit this weekend.
Howard is the only remaining individual of his family.  He was born in Thorpe, West Virginia and moved to Bluefield, West Virginia many years ago.  He lives in a home perched on the side of a hill on Essex St.  He had 3 children, and a step child he helped raised.  He worked in or with the mines all his life.  His wife past away a few years back and he lives in the home with his grandson and future granddaughter-in-law.
I knew of Howard because he had spent so much of his life pursuing family history.  Grandpa gave me a copy of one of his books he had written about 1972 on the Ross family.  That is how I knew who he was and that he was related.  By the time I came home from my mission I did not expect him to be alive anymore until one day in Twin Falls I was visiting with a missionary who had served in the West Virginia Mission.  I told him of Howard (I knew he was LDS) and the missionary not only knew of Howard, he had his address and phone number.  He gave it to me and I called Howard.
I have looked forward to meeting Howard for several years and of visiting the famous Pulaski County.  The valleys surrounding Pulaski County had already been home to the Graham and other families for over a hundred years by the time Pulaski County was formed in 1839.  There Meredith, Martin, Booth, Shepherd, and other families were well entrenched.  But my main interest was in going to the area where my family left before heading west.
Friday we drove out to Pulaski County and arrived after dark.  We spent the night in a hotel at Claytor Lake just over the border into the county.  The next morning we drove into Pulaski and just got a feel for the town and then headed for the hour and half drive to Bluefield to see Howard.
Bluefield turned out to be what you would imagine a town 50 years ago.  The little streets, little yards, flags on every house, and a good percentage of people sitting on their porch.  It was a lazy, hazy, day in summer.  We wound through the streets of Bluefield following our directions to Essex St.  Wow, as if we were not impressed.  One side of the street was wood and the other side of the street were homes perched on the side of a hill probably 75 to 100 feet up.  This hillside was probably at a 45 degree angle.  We found the home and climbed the steep stairs to the rickety old porch.
I don’t mean to sound negative, but we had entered what you joke about with rednecks.  These homes sat precariously sitting on the side of this hill and had not had any care in the last 40 years.  There was a hand made 2X4 railing up this terribly steep hike and at the top the porch wood buckled with every step.  Howard met us in the open door and invited us in.  We sat there in a relic of the 1930’s with only the television and sofa to remind us we were actually not in the mid 20th century.
Howard sat there talking with us in a most happy manner with his eye patch and asking for us to repeat often what we said.  Moreover, he spoke with that thick gentleman manner which so permeates the old confederate ideal.  His joking ways were jovial and we had quite the good conversation.
I took him with my computer through all the descendants of William Andrew Ross and he updated quite a bit of my information.  We also showed him a number of pictures I thought he would be interested in from my side of the family.  He then told us a few stories.
Uncle Jim (my great great grandfather who went west) had come to visit in the 1930’s where they lived in Gary, West Virginia.  It was the late 1930’s because the family had all gone to attend a Conference of the church in Grundy County, Tennessee.  One of the speakers that morning was Jim Ross, Howard’s Uncle.  The children did not attend but afterward all these people kept coming to his mother and commenting about how powerful Mr. Ross had been in his preaching.  Howard’s mother had to set them all straight that it was not her husband but her brother-in-law.  Howard remembers the day because it was the day he was baptized.  They would meet for the morning meetings and then have a big meal and baptisms in the middle, and go back to conference in the afternoon.
They went back home after the conference and Uncle Jim came and stayed for a spell.  Howard remembers Uncle Jim taking the wash basin out to the fields and coming back with a huge amount of corn.  He then told Howard’s mother to cook all the corn and they would eat it for dinner.  When Uncle Jim found out they did not have any milk, he went out and purchased a milk cow and brought it back for them to have milk.  (This isn’t necessarily all the same night).  Howard remembers that he was so thoroughly struck by how much Uncle Jim could eat.  Howard swears Uncle Jim must have pushed near 300 pounds and that man could eat.  Howard laughs and laughs about how when Uncle Jim left he went and sold the cow and they didn’t have milk for years afterward.
Howard remembers Uncle Jim was missing a finger.  He doesn’t remember which one, but he did ask how he lost it.  Apparently he had been bitten by a spider and as the finger started to rot and decay he finally just cut it off.  The Dr. apparently told him he had saved his life by taking the finger off.
That was about all he remembered of Uncle Jim.  He knew he moved to California after Idaho and Oregon.  While in Fresno he served as a Bishop of an LDS ward for quite a few years.  Uncle Jim was always a Ross to him even though he took the Meredith name back after moving to California.  The timeline in relation to the name I have told previously.
John Ross, or Jack as he was known, also made a trip out to West Virginia to visit.  He came out after his second wife had passed away (my great grandmother) and tried to convince his first wife to marry him again.  She wasn’t having any of that and Jack left empty handed.  Howard never met Hobart Day, Jack’s oldest child with his first wife.
Howard doesn’t remember ever meeting any of the rest of the family.  Donna Phibbs Beachell came out to visit in the 1970’s and spent quite a bit of time with Howard.  They wrote often over the years, some of which letters I mentioned were sent to me in the papers of Howard from John Ross.
Howard was very interested in what I had found out on the Meredith family and I told him what I was pretty sure to be correct.  He related to me more of the stories of what he believed happened to his grandfather but until further information comes out to prove the James Meredith story of the Harvy Ross story, we still really don’t know for sure.  I think mine is pinpointed quite a bit more firmly than his.
Howard then gave us a bit of the history of the LDS church in West Virginia.  He had us drive him down to the Bluefield Ward Building over the border in Bluefield, Tazewell County, Virginia.  He gave us a tour of the building.  We met the Bishop and a few other people.
We went back to the house and he asked that I give a blessing to his daughter, Sarah who lives next door.  She has MS and various other problems that come with smoking, MS, and the redneck lifestyle.  I will tell you now, I was alarmed that 82 year old Howard regularly climbs and descends those stairs out front.  They were so steep I didn’t feel safe especially with an old man struggling up them.  I gave a blessing to a woman who didn’t want it but whose father insisted.  Talk about a little awkward of a position.  We then went next door where he asked I give his future granddaughter-in-law a blessing.  Not only did he want a blessing for her, but the unborn child as well.  That was my first experience I remember blessing a baby in the womb.  Both turned out to be special events.  I enjoyed them and Howard became choked up after the second of the two.  My oil holder had become cracked and did not stay together any more and so we had to make due with a tablespoon of vegetable oil in a small glass bowl.  Under the circumstances it was the best we could do and we were richly blessed on the occasion.
Interestingly, the kitchen is exactly how you would have found it in the 1940’s.  The sink, the ironator, cupboards, and more were all of proper vintage.  Sadly, that was probably the last time they were cleaned.  It was quite humbling to see the faith of this man in such humble circumstances.
We left with my promising to do the ordinance work for his son and him after he had passed away.  He joked, part seriously, that through family history he had prepared the way for hundreds to enter heaven despite his own lack of achieving the same goal.
Amanda and I left and wound our way back to Pulaski County.  There we wound our way through the desolate parts of county roads trying to cross the New River.  We found our way across and went through the little towns of Allisonia, Hiwassie, and Snowville.  All towns of which were heavily populated by those of my ancestry.  It was interesting to drive along and recognize names on mailboxes and say to Amanda, “They are probably related.”
We drove back across the river up to Newbern, past Dublin, and back to Pulaski.  There we enjoyed our dinner, as we had our breakfast, at the Sonic Drive-In with gift cards that had been given to us for helping a lady move into the ward.
Afterward we hit the road to try and make Tennessee for some souvenirs and then across Southern Virginia to other ancestral locations.  We realized we were too far from Tennessee too late in the day to make it so at Rural Retreat (how is that for a name?) we turned and headed east.  We drove through Independence (Grayson County) and crashed for the night in Galax (Carroll County).  Both counties are heavily tied to me as well.  Sunday morning we awoke and made our way to Hillsville (Carroll County Seat), Martinsville (home of the Martins of which I am related), over to Danville, north to Keysville and Farmville, and home to Richmond.
It was a long weekend but very worthwhile.  I really enjoyed getting to see Allisonia, Hiwassie, and Snowville.  Maybe someday we will get to go back.  Maybe Howard will be around when it comes time for us to head back west in a year.