The Old Water Well

Old GEM Hand-Cranked Water Pump

I don't have a great picture of this old water well, so I went to the internet and was a little surprised how difficult it was to find the exact water pump that was used over Mimi and Pappy's water cistern. What I found is pictured below, and oddly it was found under the title "yesterday's tractor." I did find some old family photos that just happened to be taken near the cistern. 

Oh! The grand things that intrigue a child's mind! For me, this old water well was one of them. Thing is...I couldn't play with this by myself for long. I was very small (small for my age) and it was difficult for me to crank this thing for long. The enjoyment we had, though, as cousins playing around this cistern created memories that have lasted a lifetime. 

Pappy pictured with the old cistern.

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Though this is not our cistern, it shows the crank.

old hand water pump - Yesterday's Tractors (yesterdaystractors.com)

This is the inner workings of the pump.

Mimi and Pappy had a lot of tolerance for their 10 grandchildren, but then again, we played outside. The well was a great source of intrigue for the minds of children. It reached into the dark recesses of the earth. This diagram shows the inner workings of the well. At each bar there would have been a small bucket. As we cranked the pulley, it would lower each bucket down and around the system, filling each bucket with water. Then as it came across the top, it would dump the water into a well-placed bucket. 

At some point, we numbered each bucket, and I believe the number was somewhere around 120. It was great fun to watch the buckets begin to show signs of wetness and then produce the water. Many hours of fun and laughter, and what I thought was labor, was spent around this old well. 

Mimi and Pappy

 Ava Ella McNair Jones (1904-1985)

Joe Carroll Jones (1902-1972)

Mimi and Pappy were very very special people. I often said that Mimi was the closest thing to an angel on earth. I knew her well, as I spent lots of time with her. It was through her that I learned to know and love my great-grandparents, Ella Vermell King McNair and Charles Franklin McNair. We called them Mama and Pappa. 

Mimi would come every Wednesday to Vernon to grocery shop. She would make that drive from Crowell to Vernon, and on her way, she would stop in Thalia to pick up her father, Frank McNair (Pappa). Then Mimi would come by our house, and most of the time, I opted to go to Piggly Wiggly with them. I'm thankful for that time together because through that, I knew Pappa. On occasion, I would go back to Crowell with Mimi to stay with her and Pappy until Sunday. On Sunday, Mother and Daddy would come after church to have lunch in Crowell with the family, and I would return home with them. These visits afforded me the opportunity to play with my closest first cousin, and probably at that time, my best friend, Bob Lynch. His mother was my mother's sister and they lived next door to Mimi and Pappy. Bob and I would play contently for hours, sometimes playing at the old well, sometimes going to the swimming pool or sometimes playing the board game Wahoo under the water vapor cooler. The wahoo board was handmade by Pappy. The old water well will deserve its own post. 

                                                 Bob Martin Lynch, Faye Lynch, Bill Lynch, Jr.

                    

Bob and me, the water well on the left, Bryan playing basketball in the background.

Busting Through The Rock

                         

As I continue to write this blog on family history, I realize that I'm probably making a terrible mess of it all. I have so much information: documents, pictures, reflections, census, birth-death-marriage records. The list goes on and on. It's daunting thinking about sharing it all. It's hard to keep track of it all. Anyone reading would need to go back to some of my first posts. I shared the lineage of each line before I began. The problem now is ... that I have so much information, I get bogged down and then wonder which direction to go; what do I share at this juncture; what do I cull out; how do I move forward; how do I not get stuck in one area.

With that said I went back to my original few posts. I was excited to share my Quillin history and my trip to Ireland where I made connection with my "way back" roots. But as any good genealogist will tell you, you have to get from point A to point B to point C....and it goes on and on. 

I decided to not start with my parents and all the recollections of them and their documentation, etc. It was just too raw and there is far too much information. I may have NEVER moved forward. I loved them both so much. So, my initial goal was to look at my pedigree and start at the top of the tree with my grandparents. I knew them all, except for one, and loved them all. My dad's dad passed the year before I was born. I realize now that I have so much information on each level that it would be hard to move forward unless I skip some of it. It also brought up the problem of organizing all of this information. I purchased an external hard drive, found a model of "how to" document and save. That's overwhelming in itself. Yet, it is the MOST important thing in order to "prove yourself". 

So today I went back to reflect on my journey. I don't know how well I'm doing, but I have decided to move on to the next tier of branches on the tree. That would be my great-grandparents. This is the level where I had to begin the REALLY hard digging. The place where you begin to hit ROCK....truly the bedrock of my foundation. 

I was lucky in that I knew 3 of my great-grandparents personally, but I was a child and didn't know them well. So....I began interviewing anyone alive who knew these people; I began to contact courthouses, pound the pavement, visit cemeteries and try to connect with as much history as I could before it was gone. My mother was my sidekick. She adored traversing this journey with me. (Daddy did his share as well, as is documented in my "Memory Lane" posts.) I adored the time that I spent with each of them, listening to their stories. But I digress...The problem is that I LOVE the research and am intrigued when I find a new opening. (Mother loved writing the stories and collecting the photographs.) And as you know, each set of parents opens the door to another line and more information that would connect it all. AND I found that as I put flesh on the bones (meaning learning more about the intricate details of each family and their children), I began to sweep off the dirt, crack the rock and discover a whole new world that I never knew existed. 

So....as much as I would like to leap forward to the NEXT good stuff, I will present a little of each level and keep moving forward, leaving out some of the information. It looks far different laying here in my lap, than what it does trying to present it to you here on this blog. Far too overwhelming. As I slog through this blog, I realize that I can't focus on ALL the details that I actually possess. For a perfectionist, this is going to be tough. LOL.

New philosophy, skip some, move onto the next...and hopefully when I return back to point A, point Z will still be connected. No wonder why the Indians viewed life in a circle and not a straight line.

Charles Franklin McNair (1878-1968)

 

History Sheet

Charles Franklin McNair

            written by Carolita Quillin 1990

            taken from my 1st McNair Booklet

            

 Recollections from a Granddaughter

 

FRANK McNAIR

By Carolita Jones Quillin

Compiled by Nancy Quillin Long

Born February 5, 1878, at Saint Jo, Arkansas.  He was one of 10 children born to Mack Manilus McNair, who farmed 165 acres of land.  Seventy acres lay at the side of Boston Mountain, part of a mountain range in Arkansas.  Frank attended a rural school finishing formal schooling at an academy in Valley Springs.  He did not have a degree but was a certified schoolteacher.

 He moved to Texas in 1900 at the age of 22.  He worked in a General Store and taught school at Blevins.  Papa said that God called him to preach in 1902, but he continued to teach school.  He taught in McLellan County, and one of his pupils was Ella Vermell King.  He married her June 6, 1903. Ava Ella was born on April 21, 1904.  She was only 19 days old when Papa moved to Taylor County.  He continued teaching and did some carpenter work.  He lost one of his eyes when he was struck by a flying nail.  He had one glass eye, but you really couldn't tell it was false.  He taught school in Shackelford County.  A son, Bernie was born sometime along in this time frame.  This child died in childhood 6-8 years old. He had some kind of kidney disease.

 In 1909, seven years after his first call from God in 1902, Papa preached his first sermon while he was visiting his father in Jones County.  His family was of the Methodist religion.  One of Mama's brothers who was a Baptist preacher baptized Papa, and he started preaching as a Baptist.  He pastored small churches that could not support a full-time preacher.  He pastored at Guion, a town 26 miles southwest of Abilene.  He continued to support his family teaching school. He was my mother's teacher until she was in the third grade.

Papa served as Associational Missionary in Callahan County for four years.  Two more daughters were born in Abilene.  Ova Orene was born in 1913, and Lillian Frankie was born in 1914.  He moved to Tolbert, Texas, in Wilbarger County in 1919, a small town just a few miles north of Vernon.  He served as Associational Missionary there for two years.  A daughter, Ada Benona (Bennie) was born there March 19, 1919.  During the time Papa served as Associational Misssionary, he traveled by horse and buggy.  He would occupy these distances and times reading and studying the Bible. He moved to Thalia Baptist Church in Foard County in 1920-21. He then moved to Margaret, Texas, a small town a few miles north of Crowell in Foard County.  He was at this church for ten months.  In 1924 he went to Lockett, a small town 10 miles west of Vernon in Wilbarger County.  Lockett Baptist Church was organized with 12 members.  They met in the Lockett School Facilities.  The church was built under his leadership.  He was there for 12 years.  He moved to Electra, Texas, in Wichita County to a rural church outside of Delhi, Oklahoma.  This was the largest church he pastored with a membership of 500.  From there he moved to Hess, Oklahoma, and retired from there in 1948 at the age of 70.  He built his retirement home himself in Lockett. Texas, and lived there until his death December 9, 1968, at the age of 90.

I remember Papa as having reddish blonde hair and a fair, ruddy complexion and freckles.  He was not fat but had a little rotund belly.  He was rather a practical joker and somewhat of a clown.  I always took him seriously because I could never tell if he was joking.  He was stooped and crippled up pretty bad with arthritis, but he was active and alert and cared for himself as long as he lived.  He worked jigsaw and crossword puzzles and was a very well-read man. He was a great whittler of wood and carved wooden people and animals out of wood.  He always raised a large garden, working his ground with a homemade plow which he would hitch to himself. I wish I could have known him better.

The Master’s Hand

 When I was a young teacher, I acquired the position of being a coach of the oral readers. They competed with teams from other schools. After tryouts, I would spend days searching for the perfect piece to be read aloud, something that could be read with different voice inflections. When I found this poem by Myra Brooks Welch, I was blown away with her profound words. This would be a moving piece for the perfect person, Dana Slay. After coaching her, she TOTALLY embraced the meaning and the emotions of this poem. She was awarded the Blue Ribbon for her performance. Though I have lost track of Dana, I will never forget the impact of this poem on me and others. There are “many a man with life out of tune.” 

https://1.bp.blogspot.com

The Touch of the Master's Hand

'Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer

      Thought it scarcely worth his while

To waste much time on the old violin,

      But held it up with a smile.

"What am I bidden, good folks," he cried,

    "Who'll start the bidding for me?"

"A dollar, a dollar. Then two! Only two?

      Two dollars, and who'll make it three?"

"Three dollars, once; three dollars, twice;

      Going for three…" But no,

From the room, far back, a grey-haired man

      Came forward and picked up the bow;

Then wiping the dust from the old violin,

      And tightening the loosened strings,

He played a melody pure and sweet,

      As a caroling angel sings.

The music ceased, and the auctioneer,

      With a voice that was quiet and low,

Said: "What am I bid for the old violin?"

      And he held it up with the bow.

"A thousand dollars, and who'll make it two?

      Two thousand! And who'll make it three?

Three thousand, once; three thousand, twice,

    And going and gone," said he.

The people cheered, but some of them cried,

    "We do not quite understand.

What changed its worth?" Swift came the reply:

    "The touch of the Master's hand."

And many a man with life out of tune,

      And battered and scarred with sin,

Is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd

      Much like the old violin.

A "mess of pottage," a glass of wine,

    A game — and he travels on.

He is "going" once, and "going" twice,

    He's "going" and almost "gone."

But the Master comes, and the foolish crowd

    Never can quite understand

The worth of a soul and the change that is wrought

    By the touch of the Master's hand.

Myra Welch would say that she heard a speaker address a group of students on the power of God to bring out the best in people. She said she herself became filled with light and that “Touch of the Master’s Hand” was written in 30 minutes!.
The finished poem was sent anonymously to the editor of her local church news bulletin. She felt it was a gift from God and didn’t need her name on it.

http://www.barefootsworld.net/touch.html 

MY EWING SOURCES

 MY EWING SOURCES

http://www.ewingfamilyassociation.org/documents/Ewing_James/james_ewing_pioneer_toohey.pdf

By Anne Toohey, Library of Congress, 11 April 1996

VERY important documentation of the early 1800 letters

 

The Ewings of Frederick Co. VA

By Evelyn Jones Ewing and James Earl Ewing, Jr.

Copyright 1986

Follows the line of John of Carnshanaugh (1648-1745) and his second wife Jennet McElvaney through his son William (1711-1781) through his son Robert (1761-1826). Robert was part of the correspondence of letters in the early 1800s. This William would have been a brother to my James (Pocahontas) Ewing Sr. (1721-1801).

They site sources including The History of Epler Oldwiller, Huckleberry, Carr, and Ewing Families. These were all tied to S.S.Jameson of Burnet Texas 1895. This family history ties directly to my line. They record information from the Burt Book, found in the Magee Library, Londonderry. The Burt Book has records kept by Rev. A Ferguson, minister of the Presbyterian Congregation at Burt, County Donegal from 1685-1718.  This book shows our lineage all the way to Elizabeth Ewing b. 1755 who married Samuel James Jameson, who is their grandson of Burnet, Texas. He supplied all the information.  

 

Ewing Family Journal, Vol 18 No.2 (May 2012) Douglas Rohde found a Confession of Faith Book printed in 1700. This was passed down through Margaret Ewing (1750-1815) who married her cousin Robert. Robert was part of the correspondence mentioned above. This Confession of Faith Book listed many birth, death, marriage dates. This book was brought to America in c.1729 by John of Carnshanaugh. Douglas Rohde would be Margaret’s great-grandson.

John Ewing (1648-1745) of Carnashannagh

Developed by James R. McMichael

http://www.ewingfamilyassociation.org/genealogy-and-history/ewing-genealogy-documentation/john-ewing-1648-1745-of-carnashannagh

 

http://www.ewingfamilyassociation.org/books/EwingInEarlyAmerica/Fife_Ch11.pdf

This gives all of the documentation of this family as pulled together by the professionals, as best as they could.   Chapter XI in John Ewing (1648-1745) Of Carnshanaugh p 54-86

 

https://www.genealogycenter.info/viewpage_ewingoneamerican.php?realpage=5&display=eoa

One American Family – Pocahontas James by Wallace K. Ewing Ph.D.

I have followed “Wally” since I began the research. There would be nothing more that I could add about the Ewing Family, except to document my line from F.S. Ewing (1869-1962) to James H (Henry?) Ewing b. 1829 to William P Ewing (1804-1864). All sources after that have my line connected to William P Ewing,

 

http://www.ewingfamilyassociation.org/documents/Sproul/Sproul_Part_2.html

The Early Ewing Families of Augusta County, Virginia: Parts II to IV

By William W. Sproul, III (+1 304.645.5332, Sproul3 at frontier dot com)

 

http://o.pcahs.org/pcaolr/database/acdpcd-p/p981.htm#i75590

Website through Pike County Arkansas Archives and History Society gives connections all the way to F.S. Ewing.

I’m not sure how to access their sources.

 

http://www.sproulfamily.net/jemc.pdf

By William Sproul

Found in the Ewing Family Journal Vol. 15 No.2 May 2009, 14 pages.

This includes a lot of Ewing history.

Interesting that my great-grandfather married a Sproul, but I have never been able to find documentation on her or her Sproul family.

 

 

My Ewing Research

What you leave behind is not what is engraved in stone monuments, but what is woven into the lives of others.   

~Pericles

 My goal so far has been to post some special things about my grandparents and great grandparents. The people that I actually knew or that my parents knew. These are people that we created memories with and have our own photos of them. There is so much more to be included. 

Frederick Short Ewing was the last person of the Ewing line that anyone knew personally. Beyond him, I will begin to rely on my own research. F. S. seemed to be a bit of a drifter in his later days. From what I gathered, he may have been a little difficult to get along with. As I have gathered information about him, it has made me a bit sad to see that he may have died alone. His death certificate reads that he died in St. Joseph's infirmary in Hot Springs, AR. The informant was a lady named Pauline Allen. Pauline gave the name of Anne Hines as F.S.'s mother. Nowhere in my research are either of those two names found. My research reflects that his father was James H (most likely, Henry) Ewing. I believe that James was married to Malinda Dillard. The Dillards and the Ewings have many people intertwined in their trees. I have a bit more to substantiate on that family.

However, I have some tremendous research done by professional people that seem to connect our family way back to Scotland and Ireland. Most notable sources come are:

The Ewing Family of Washington County Ky. In that booklet, there was a note giving credit to “the foregoing history of the tribe of John Ewing, Sr. written by S.S. Jamison.

Robert Ewing (1790-1870) is the one who wrote the letter to “Aunt Sallie Jamison” dated August 26, 1827. This was a letter written by Robert Ewing (1790-1870) to his cousin Sallie Jamieson (1792-18777) saying The History of the Tribe of John Ewing, Sr. was obtained from Elizabeth Ewing Jamieson (1755-1821). She was the daughter of Samuel Ewing (c1717-1807) and wife Margaret McMichael. The records came from a letter written by Elizabeth Ewing Jamieson on July 12, 1820.

As was mentioned in Chapter II, the History of Cecil Co., Maryland, the history of the Ewing family had been given to Col. Wm. A. Ewing of Chicago IL in 1846 by Nathaniel Ewing born 1772, a grandson of the Cecil Co., Md. family. Col. Wm. A. Ewing was also given material on John Ewing by S.S. Jamieson of Burnet, Texas in 1895. It was published in Pioneers of Washington Co., Ky.

Though they are a different branch, much information was gleaned from these old letters. It proved to be the basis for more research by excellent family historians such as: 

One American Family: Pocahontas James by Wallace K Ewing (Wally) Ph.D. This man has been my 'go-to' source. He has done a phenomenal amount of research with the help of the Ewing Clan Association, and they have put much of the Ewing line together, though all questions are not answered. It's a bit deep because they include all of their research, so I have much to put together using their research. However, I feel confident in that information, and I have always relied on them as my main source.  They have been able to research closely the information from deed books, maps, old letters, archives, etc. and have built a great history of the Ewing Clan in America.

From what I am reading in his research is that the Ewing Clan has us connected to James Henry Ewing whose father was William P. Ewing and the Dillard Family, as well as my Sproul family. 

Fife_Ch11.pdf (ewingfamilyassociation.org) 

* A side note on Wallace K Ewing* After I retired and picked up my genealogy work again, I reached out to Wallace via Ancestry. It didn't take him long to get back to me, but it was Christmas time, and we left home to be away for a while. I chickened out after our return, as I was skeptical of my ability to prove my research. I wish that I had not let my insecurities hold me back. 

Pike County Arkansas Archives also has an excellent account of the Ewings.

Early Western Virginia Sproul Family27, by William W Sproul has been credited with the Ewing Association of being able to connect his Sprouls with the Ewing family. This is available online at www.sproulfamily.net. I'm hoping at some point to connect my Sproul line with the Ewings through this research. As of today, that hasn't happened.  

Much information can be found in the online Journal of Clan Ewing. 

Margaret Ewing Fife: Ewing in Early America is another good source.

 I believe my list could go on, but I see that I will need to do some organization as to who contributes most to my line. There is always much to do when researching family history. It is never ending, always interesting, tedious, and a bit mysterious. It's fun to see how my family has made an imprint on history. As I always say, their footsteps lead right to my front door. It's never boring.