Tuesday, October 1, 2013

David Harry .... wagon maker

 
David Harry lived during the time period when Pennsylvania Germans near the Conestoga River first made Conestoga wagons around 1750 to haul freight. By the 1810s, improved roads to Pittsburgh and Wheeling, Virginia (now West Virginia) stimulated trade between Philadelphia, Baltimore, and settlers near the Ohio River. Wagoners with horse-drawn Conestoga wagons carried supplies and finished goods westward on three- to four-week journeys and returned with flour, whiskey, tobacco, and other products. The Conestoga wagon’s curved shape shifted cargo toward the center and prevented items from sliding on mountain slopes. Railroads replaced Conestoga wagons by the 1850s, but the prairie schooner, a lightweight, flat variant, carried pioneer settlers from Missouri to the West Coast.
 
The variety of wagons in use during this time period was considerable.  Small carts, buggies, and large wagons for families traveling great distances required great attention to detail.  The following document shows that David was a wagon maker.

On the Request of David Harry was the following deed recorded April 6th, 1785 towit.. 

                  This Indenture was made this 24th day of March in this year of our Lord one Thousand seven hundred and eighty five. Between Jonathan Hagar Junior of Washington County in the State of Maryland heir at Law of Jonathan Hagar late of the aforesaid county deceased of the ........part and David Harry of the county and state aforesaid Wagonmaker of this other part{ ....whereas the aforesaid Jonathan Hagar


 
 
Another find in my mother's papers.  The notes are all hers. 

 

Saturday, September 28, 2013

Is this home tied to our family?



Several pieces of information in my mother's papers may help me know more about Cyprian Bulloch.

Tradition says after Stephen Bulloch's wife Winnie Robinson died, he brought his two sons, Cyprian and Henry, to live with their grandmother Robinson in Greenville, GA.  Now Meriwether County was founded in 1827; so this would have been Troup County.

These items may point my efforts to dig a little deeper
1) a newpaper article my mother saved
2) a note she added to the side of the article
3) marriage records

These items may indicate that the Robinson family Cyprian & Henry Bulloch came to live with may be the Robertson's family.  The spelling of names was very fluid during this time period. 

So I am sharing the information without final conclusions.

1) The article
"Built by Slave before 1860…

Greenville’s Winsor Hall is feature of Historical Tour
 

One of the highlights of the Meriwether Historical Tour will be Winsor Hall. It will be opened to the public on Dec 12 from 10:00 until 5:00 and Dec 13 from 1:00 until 5:00. This house, one of the first completed private houses in Greenville, faces the old Greenville-Newton highway. Through the years all visitors to Greenville, have no doubt wanted to tour the house. Winsor Hall will be recognized as the tour trademark on tickets, posters and brochures.

This house was purchased in May of this year by Mr and Mrs Paul Rogers of La Grange. Mrs Rogers is an antique dealer and has furnished the house with many exquisite pieces. The Tour Committee is very grateful to her, as well as to the owners of the other six houses, for allowing the house to be opened.

Winsor Hall was built by a slave named Lovejoy before 1850 for J.M.C.Robertson, great-grandfather of Mrs. Idas Robertson, Sr of Manchester. One of Greenville’s most famous tales is how this slave worked out the specifications so exactly that there was scarcely enough lumber left to build a chicken house."
(The newspaper article was clipped without a reference to the date printed or the newspaper that printed it. ) 

Twin Oaks, also known as Winsor Hall, was added to the National Register of Historic Places on August 26, 1980.
 
Mother added the note below. My guess is she either knew or believed this was the Robinson family that Stephen brought Cyprian and his brother to after their mother died.  However, that is uncertain.  This house would have been built by a cousin if they are related. It would not have been a home he grew up in.
2. Her note
Stephen Bulloch  brought Henry and Cyprian, his two sons, to Greenville from Edgecombe Co, NC after his wife Winnie Robinson died. Cyprian was overseer for Render’s plantation near Greenville before moving to Warm Springs and Manchester."
 I found this photo of The "Render homeplace" in Greenville.  It is also on the National Registry.
 
 
 
I am not sure exactly when the Render home was built.  Cyprian Sr. would not have lived in this home as an overseer. It probably meant he had a good or better than average education. The lithograph of him shows him to be a well dressed man.
 

The term "overseer" brings too many images to mind to make it a pleasant reference.
Yet it tells me he would have been able to manage a variety of tasks and responsibilities.  His sons, Cyprian Jr, Benjamin, Jesse Hood would have grown up aware of all the variety of endeavors needed to maintain a large property, which would have prepared them to work together establishing their own businesses. Cyprian Jr. was the first man in the county to have all eight of his children obtain a college education.
 
4. Marriage Records

MERIWETHER COUNTY, GA -  MARRIAGES   1828-1844
   *****************
     Copyright.  All rights reserved.
     http://www.usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm
     
     http://www.usgwarchives.net/ga/gafiles.htm
***********************
This file was contributed for use in the USGenWeb Archives by:
Doris Robbins        http://www.genrecords.net/emailregistry/vols/00011.html#0002700   
        
For MORE information see: http://www.usgennet.org/usa/ga/county/meriwether/
        
        
        MARRIAGES 1828 – 1844
 
      BULLOCH, Cypion                 GRAY, Licinda               1 Feb 1833 
      BULLOCH, John                   WILLIAMS, Jane              11 Mar 1832 
      BULLOCK, Henry                  BUSSEY, Cinderilla          26 Oct 1831 
      BULLOCK, John                   ERTZ, Frances               11 Sept1842 
    

      ROBINSON, Edward M.             HALL, Susan                 20 Dec 1832

      ROBINSON, James H. C.           RANDAL, Mary                27 Oct 1842

      ROBINSON, William               MATHIS, Sarah               18 Apr 1839

      ROBINSON, William               NEWSOM, Elizabeth           1 Feb 1840
 
Notice the spelling of all the names above.  Cyprian's name is spelled "Cypion", Lucinda, his wife, has her name spelled Licinda, his brother's surname is spelled with a "k"rather than an "h".

My question...did the Robinson's begin to spell their name as Robertson?

Sunday, September 22, 2013

1925 letter regarding family history


 

 
While visiting with my family, I scanned this fascinating letter written to my grandmother Mabel.  The first two pages (top) update current family news.  Most of the subject is regarding illness in the community and extended family.  There must additional page/s because the document is unsigned. The unnamed writer discusses her hens.  The  writer is a daughter of Jesse Hood Bulloch which makes her Mabel's cousin. I believe "Aunt Julia" was my great grandmother & Mabel's mother, Julia C Parkman Bulloch.
 
This letter appears to be a response to a request for information.  This was about the same time that Mabel and Ida Mae were gathering information for a family history.  Mabel hired a genealogist to search courthouse records.
 
While the letter was written in 1925, the information dates back to the early 1800's when Cyprian's father was brought to live with his grandparents The Robinson's.  From this letter we don't know if her source of information was a family bible, tradition, a journal, stories shared from older family members,whatever.  I have been able to document the information from other sources.
 
This letter brings our family history to life. My grandmother, 88 years ago, knew aunts, uncles who lived, shared stories and experiences with family whose lives intersected hers.  The joys and sadness, the wars and depressions, the success and failures, their values impact us in a myriad of subtle ways. Their experiences shaped Mabel, my mother  and through me, my children and grandchildren. 
 
It also confirms very subtle way, conclusions I reached regarding Serena Parkman.  But I will write about that another day.
 
What can I say .... write it down, save information, organize your records.  Find out who you are, where your roots are.   It is fascinating.

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

Julia Frances Harry Bennett

 
 

Julia Frances Harry Bennett, 91, of Spartanburg, SC, passed into eternal life on Monday, September 16, 2013, at Eden Terrace-Spartanburg. Born January 19, 1922, in New Orleans, LA, she was the daughter of the late Rev. Woodfin Grady and Mabel Bulloch Harry, and widow of James Henry Bennett. She was the last surviving member of her immediate family, also having been predeceased by her sister, Margaret Harry Thompson, and brother, Henry Grady Harry. 

A graduate of Agnes Scott College, Mrs. Bennett was former District Six educator at Woodland Heights Elementary School. She was a faithful member of Covenant Presbyterian Church, a long-time member and pianist of the Fellowship Sunday School Class, former president of Women of the Church, Circle leader, and a delegate to the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church. She was a member of the National Society of the Daughters of the American Revolution.

Surviving are her daughters, Jan Bennett Bates of American Fork, UT, Gaye Bennett Pappas (Ted) of Fernandina Beach, FL, and Barbara Bennett Davis (Charlie) of Spartanburg, SC; eight grandchildren; and ten great-grandchildren.

A memorial service will be conducted at 11:00 AM Thursday, September 19, 2013, at Covenant Presbyterian Church, 880 W. O. Ezell Blvd., Spartanburg, SC 29301, by the Rev. Robert Brozina. The family will receive friends following the service. Burial will be private.

Memorials may be made to Covenant Presbyterian Church, 880 W. O. Ezell Blvd., Spartanburg, SC 29301; or Regency Hospice, 880 S. Pleasantburg Drive Suite 1A&F, Greenville, SC 29607.

The family wishes to express their deep appreciation to the staff of Eden Terrace Assisted Living.

Floyd's North Church Street Chapel


            88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

My mom slipped away today. She possessed a gentle soul and a giving heart. As a young mother she experienced so much challenge and still managed to keep her girls happy, safe and unaware of her stress.

Her mother was ill for several years, her husband was deployed twice (Once to Okinawa and then to Korea), her mother died, our home was destroyed by a tornado. Yet she made handling everything seem easy. Her great secret was reliance on her great faith. There were few times we missed church ... once on a Christmas we girls didn't get dressed in time. Only being sick with a fever was an acceptable reason. As a girl her mom often practiced the adult and children's Sunday School lessons on Julia and her brother and sister just in case she had to teach them. Mother taught Sunday School, Bible School in the summer, was often President of the Women of the Church. Church was her second family, a place of refuge and peace.

When mother became unable to drive to church, my sweet sisters took turns coming to the assisted living center to dress her and take her to services. Gaye drove from North Augusta to Spartanburg and Barbara drove a half hour one way.

She valued education and had the expectation that we would also. Her daughters and grandchildren have followed her example. She loved her family, daughters, 8 grandchildren, 10 great grandchildren with another great grandson to come in December.

I could fill pages with memories, but I will simply add ... Mama you were a lady who set the bar high. You asked a lot of yourself and we love you dearly. Your Heavenly Father knows of your great love. You will be missed and remembered always.


*********************************
Matthew Bates This is my wonderful grandmother, Julia Bennett. She passed away this afternoon peacefully and restfully, with her three daughters close by. I'm on a business trip here in Washington, D.C. for the annual Air Force Association conference at the National Harbor complex. I got a phone call from my mother at about 3:00 and I knew she was calling with the news, but I couldn't bring myself to pick up the phone to talk. I waited until the conference was over for the day and most of the crowd had already slipped away. I found a quiet place by myself and called my mom. As I spoke to my mother I was looking out over the Potomac River at a gorgeous sunset, with the beautiful Masonic temple in Alexandria still being lit by a gently setting sun. In moments it would disappear behind the trees on the Virginia side of the River.
 
The clouds and the sky looked like a postcard that I know my grandmother would appreciate - she always loved history, especially her family history and our ancestors' story going back to the Revolution. She once told me of our ancestor who took part in General Washington's funeral procession/remembrance in Gaithersburg, Md., not far from here. She loved our country and its history, and knew well the sacrifices of those who have served our country. Her father, afterall, was the mayor (and local presbyterian minister) in Warm Springs, GA, where President Roosevelt came down to receive his polio treatments. We have a picture of her father meeting the President in Warm Springs, and I remember her telling us that her dad would greet the President when he got off the train! She loved our country and knew of sacrifice, having watched her husband go off to fight Hitler in Patton's Army, only to return to Korea to fight some more. She was a proud Army wife! As I spoke to my mother a member of the Air Force band was playing a lilting melody on his bagpipes in the stairwell.
 
My mother began to tell me that shortly before she passed, she perked up enough to tell her, "children everywhere, children everywhere. Little boys, little girl." She had a picture of my children posted by here bed, and I'm sure she had pictures of all of her children and great grandchildren close by. She loved them all dearly.
 
The picture above was taken four years ago while she was still living on her own, but the last time we all saw her together about a year ago, she didn't have the strength to move around. Instead, we all sang songs to her from her Presbyterian hymnal, while she laid down and hummed along to a few favorites that she had memorized long, long ago. Age could take away her strength and ability to speak, but it could not take away the Hymns of God in her heart!
 
So, with these precious memories of her spinning through my mind, with this beautiful scene of God's sunset smiling down on me, all I could do was break down and melt in tears, grateful for this wonderful woman and all that she has meant to me, my brothers and sister, my cousins and their children, my children, and her own daughters who were by her side these final few days of her mortal life. She has now been reunited with her husband, Lt. Col. James H. Bennett. I know that he was there to meet her as she passed through the veil, and that she has returned to her God - our God - who she loved with all her heart, might, mind, and strength. I know that He has welcomed her home and into His rest.
 
While my heart is broken a bit today and my eyes are still a bit wet with tears, I know that I will someday see her again. I love you grandmama. Families are forever, and I look forward to seeing you soon. Tell granddaddy I said Hi, and maybe you can pay me a visit one of these days in my dreams!
  • Becky Ann Hunter What a grand eulogy, written for a beautiful lady. I've lost both of my grandmothers, so I can empathize, Matthew. May God's peace wash over you as you reflect upon her life.
  • Michael Tobias Estes Matthew, that was amazing. I'm sorry for your loss, but the history speaks volumes. If you are going to be in D.C. for a few days, you are welcome to stop by. We'd love to see you.
  • Kaddiz Gonzales Silvestro Thank you for sharing your heartfelt sentiments in this space. Wishing you comfort and beautiful memories as you grieve.
  • Stephen Silvestro My condolences old friend
  • Wednesday, August 14, 2013

    Special Gifts


    Some people have a wonderful talent for selecting just the right gift for friends and family. They remember a longing glance through a store window or a comment in a conversation. They match the glance, the comment, the interest with a gift some time in the future.  
     
    My mother-in-law was a great gift giver.  She enjoyed finding cute clothes and special toys for the kids. As seasons changed there would be a box filled with items.  She had the knack of picking items my kids adored.  She and Granddaddy Bates took the boys on the last steam train trip between Gaffney and Spartanburg. She bought Star Wars swords.
     
    One Christmas this was a personal challenge. My shopping was done.  Frances wanted to know what to buy and I just could not think of one more item.  I told her I had just bought a yellow school bus for Andy because he played with one like it at mother's morning out.
     
    She misunderstood and rushed out to buy him one.  I had to return mine. 
      
    I felt like a spoiled kid.  While Andy would not remember who gave him the toy, I wanted it to be a gift from me!  It would be a favorite toy.   Logic and emotion can be miles apart. I wanted to be grateful for her thoughtfulness and I wanted to be understanding of her desire to give the "special gift".  I was not proud of my feelings, but there I was stuck with trying to be better than I was. I guess I remember this mostly because I struggled with my feelings.
    ***
     
     
    When I was a teen, my parents gave me a cultured pearl necklace for my birthday.  It was my go to jewelry for Sunday dresses and special occasions for years.  It was always returned to the special black velvet box.
     
    Babies love to play with mom's earrings and necklaces.  One Sunday in Rock Hill Andy tugged and broke mine.  The pearls went flying.  After church I made sure to gather all the pearls.  I took them home with plans to have them restrung. Young marrieds have many budget needs and restringing pearls didn't seem that important.
     
    Several years later planting flowers along the front sidewalk when I found a strand of five or six pearls.  Immediately I knew these were "my" pearls.  I summoned Matt and Andy, who must have been 7 or 8, to ask them how they came to be outside.
     
    Matt's quick response.  They were buried treasure.  No idea where the others were buried.
    ****
     
     
    Like most kids I really looked forward to my birthday. My Christmas birthday always seemed less significant than the holiday.  I really looked forward to turning thirteen, a teen.
     
    However, I was really upset that day with my dad.  Now 99% of kids understand that parents have to work on their birthday. One thing that makes a Christmas birthday tolerable is family can all be there together.  (Please understand I am recounting how I saw things at thirteen.) However, my dad had to work that day.  He was "Officer of the Day" at Ft Benning. He was stand-in for the Commanding General.  I suppose if Russia had declared war; my dad would have been in charge (until he made a phone call to the commanding general).
     
    A car driven by MP's came to pick him up to chauffer him to work.  He wore side arms. This was the only time I recall that happening. He was gone all day!
     
    What was my reaction?  I huffed and puffed and acted like he chose to work that day. So you ask,  what does this have to do with gifts?  Well my dad had bought me the necklace above.  It was a Sara Coventry necklace with two teen's dancing with a juke box.  The links were adjustable to go from a necklace to a bracelet. I would look like the guys on American Bandstand when I wore it.
     
    Was I appreciative of the effort he had gone to buy it?  Nope.  I wanted to punish him because he had not arranged to be home.  Wow.  I guess I thought that would show him. 
     
    In the spring our family went to visit Spartanburg and see my Dad's family.  My aunt Ruby asked me how I liked the necklace? She told me how excited he had been when he ordered it for me. 
     
    I felt so ashamed of how I had acted.  Suddenly the necklace seemed much more important.
     
     
     
    
     
    

    Monday, May 13, 2013

    Wicked Stepsister


    Pictures are powerful.  I probably would not remember this event without the photo to solidify the memory.  This is my first, perhaps my last theatrical appearance.  I played the wicked stepsister.  Cinderella is dancing with the Prince.  I am dancing and smiling just behind his shoulder.

    Tuesday, February 26, 2013

    Julia Frances in a Goat Cart


    They could not get her to smile. 

     



    Thursday, February 14, 2013

    1954 - Laughter and tears

    There are coincidences in life that firmly link two events together.  In my childhood this book is one of those links.   It is the story of a peddler who walks from town to town selling hats.  He is not an ordinary peddler carrying his goods; he wears his caps one on top of another.  One day he falls asleep under a tree and when he wakes all the caps are gone.  It was a silly book just right for a six - nearly seven - year old.

    If a book is the link; you might wonder what are the life events.

    During the summer of 1954 my Grandmother passed away.  In all my memories of her she was in a hospital bed or wheel chair.  When I was a toddler she was hospitalized for weeks with an exceptionally high fever (either at Mercer or Emory  University hospital in Atlanta).  Afterwards she required constant assistance.  Because of her needs, my father managed to have stateside assignments that kept us nearby.  When he was transferred overseas, we returned to Manchester; so mother could help. 

     
    This picture of Gaye and me taken at Ft Benning before we moved to Manchester. It was part of a Christmas card sent out in 1953.

    When my dad received orders to serve the army in the Korean War, my mom was very pregnant.  His deployment was delayed until Barbara was born. Anticipating a return to Manchester, they built a sweet little house on Parkman Drive. 

    Looking at this photo there appears to be no stress in life.  Yet... What a challenge to send your husband to war,  to be the mom of three little girls ... especially in the age of cloth diapers and clothes lines and cooking from scratch, to be a caring daughter of a very ill mother, and to be a busy church worker helping with Bible school in the summer and Sunday School all year.  If she was lucky I rode a bus to school, but I can not remember one.   So how did she manage to look so beautiful and composed?   Somehow she did everything well and kept the stress to herself.

    That July Grandmama died.  While I did not attend the services, we went to the church together before the funeral.  On the ride home she spoke with me about death and separation.   I have reflected on that conversation.  Of course I do not remember the exact words she shared.  Just the tears in her eyes as the told me she was grateful that Grandmama didn't have to suffer anymore. She knew she was in heaven. 

    Having her husband half a world away in war must have brought her  to worrisome thoughts. Concern for her father and feeling her husband's absence even more keenly, we moved to Granddaddy Harry's.  She could cook and keep the house and he could help with little ones.  She found a tenant to rent our home fully furnished.

    Now back to the book.  Sort of.... 

    Mother sang children's songs and told us stories and read children's books.  Golden Books were big favorites. They were inexpensive versions of  Little Red Riding Hood, The Little Engine that Could, Little Black Sambo (totally unacceptable today),  The Three Little Pigs, Peter Rabbit, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs,  Brer Rabbit and the Tar Baby, and so many more. 

    I am unsure when or even how often we read "Caps for Sale".  The stories we read were repeated often.  At times mother read to us and other times it was Granddaddy Harry. 

    At any rate there was a day in December when the weather began to change for the worse.  The Lake became frothy mess from hail.  Quickly Granddaddy scurried around the house gathering quilts to cover the car.  Hail could destroy the paint and the hood and roof at worse.  Realizing that the hail could also damage him, he put on a heavy coat and two hats on his head for some personal protection.

    As little girls it never occurred to us that he might have been hurt (Granddaddy's are like dad's ... super strong and can not be hurt.) We were laughing at how funny he looked wearing two hats.  No one wears two hats ... except people in silly books.

    We had hardly stopped laughing and looking out the big window at the lake when the phone rang.  I ran to answer it and it was for mother.  Mrs Dorsey was calling.  I probably thought it was for a play date with Linda, who was in my grade at school and lived next to our house.  I held the phone waiting to give the phone to Mother and continued to stand there waiting to see what she had to say.  I watched Mother's face change from a big smile to a stunned look.  Mrs Dorsey  told her our house had blown away in a tornado. 

     
     
    This is a historical photo of the storm damage.  Our home is in the upper right corner.  All that remained was a rug that landed on someone's roof, a refrigerator that still worked in 1983, a toaster, a china base lamp and odds and ends. The tub was still in place.  Even tile came off the floor.  Daddy had a big overstuffed green leather chair that was shredded.  Big trees in the yard snapped in half. 
     
     
    Writing about a book may not seem relevant when I am thinking about the tornado make not make sense to an adult point of view, but I was a child.  When I think of the tornado or any tornado, my mind zips to my Grandfather wearing two hats and then to the book. 
     
    Now Gaye may find her mind races to when Daddy retuned home.... and the brierpatch story.  




    Friday, January 11, 2013

    Ft Benning


     
    Because we lived on Lumpkin Road while I was in kindergarten and half of first grade, I have a limited set of memories. Staccato little moments in time.
     
     I gathered acorns and lined them on the sidewalk; patiently I watched from the living room window to see if the squirrels would retrieve them later. 
     
     A Sears truck ran over my first bicycle.  They replaced it. 
     
     I was in a neighborhood play of Cinderella .. I was a wicked stepsister. Somewhere I have a picture of us "at the ball".  All wicked stepsisters should look so sweet. Our ball dresses were nightgowns.
     
    My first "boy friend" was Frankie Santangelo.  I am pretty sure I remember him more for his name than anything else. 
     
    While playing on the back steps, Gaye put her head through the metal railing.  This is easily accomplished as the head goes through, but the ears do not cooperate to back out.  The fire department had to bend the rail to get her out.
     
    My parents bought our first television while we lived here.  The first program I remember is the Republican convention nominating General Eisenhower to run for President.  I remember watching Howdy Doody later.
     
    Gaye liked to ride her tricycle as close to the edge of porch as she could get.  When she got too close, over she went.
     
    Sitting on the back steps and telling some older children my mom was going to have a baby.  A baby boy.  I really wanted a big brother.  Barbara was not big and not a brother, but I loved her anyway.
     
    I started kindergarten at four and first grade at five.  The cut off date was December 30th.  Because of that I was always the youngest student in my classes. From time to time I have wondered if that was a good decision.  Academically I could do the work, but with all the change that followed starting later might have been better.  Life has no do overs; so who knows. 
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Each home has a series of stories.  The people, the schools, the experiences all change while you live there.  Ft Benning was our home twice. My kindergarten / first grade  and middle school years were spent there. Separated by years when my Dad was deployed to Korea and four years as an advisor to the National Guard in South Carolina.
     
    Barbara was born at Benning, but lived there for a few days or weeks.  Gaye was a toddler and elementary student.  Mother and Daddy were here just before my Dad was deployed to Korea and as he wrapped up his military career and prepared to retire. 
     
    It is fascinating to consider how the same span of time provides a different experience for the people sharing the events.
     
    When President Eisenhower was a major when he was stationed at Benning and lived at 206 Austin Loop. The picture above is of his residence.  Our home was just a few houses away from his.  His son also lived on Austin Loop and moved away just before we arrived or I might have known David, his grandson.  All the houses on the street were identical duplexes. 
     
    I found this info on a historical website about Fort Benning.



    Dwight and Mamie Eisenhower lived at 206 Austin Loop from 1926 to 1927 when he was a major. As an additional duty, Eisenhower coached the Doughboy football team. Note the historical marker on Vibbert Avenue.

    The Dutch Colonial style quarters on Austin Loop and Eames Avenue were built in 1923-24. Legend has it that the building plans were intended for a military installation in the North, and the roofs were steeply pitched to prevent snow from piling up. A mix-up resulted in the installations receiving blueprints intended for the other. A 1933 edition of the post newspaper referred to Austin Loop as the neighborhood where "they built the made-to-shed-snow houses."

    These were the first permanent married officer housing for field grade officers. Like most of the post’s early construction, they reflect careful planning with consideration for aesthetics and community. The fronts of these houses, pictured here on the left, faced the central courtyard, and the backs would today be considered the front, facing the paved road.
     

    There was one day when school was let out early.  All the people on post lined the streets.  President Eisenhower drove through the base and we stood and waved at him. It was the 50's and he was a hero!

    The Commanding Generals home was just down the street at the end of the Loop. Gaye and I passed it when we walked or biked by on our way to school or to the movies. We often stopped to play on the Little Train near the base entrance. 
     

     
    Occasionally mother played the bells at the base chapel. My father's retirement ceremony took place on the grounds in front of the chapel.  I should post a picture of us dressed in our Sunday best looking rather dorky.  We were impressed with all the military review at the ceremony.

     
     
    Fort Benning was a wonderful time of discovery.  All the kids my age had travelled.  It seemed everyone I knew had lived in Germany or Italy or places I had never visited ... like Ohio.  The family in the other duplex had two standard Poodles named Zampa and Leo. They got their dogs while living in Italy.  Their son was Steve.  We got a good laugh at Gaye when on our first day on base Gaye went in their back door rather than ours. 
     
    This was also the first time we had friends, who were not Protestants. Maureen and Darlene were Catholic. I went to Mass with them a few times.  Presbyterian ministers wore suits and ties; priests had a very different wardrobe. I never knew when to stand or kneel.
     
    Benning was integrated.  I had loved my "No No" before we moved on base.  I just assumed that was the way life should be.  I unaware we lived in a very white southern world. Little children just accept the world as it comes to them.
     
    I should mention that "No NO" was Nora.  She was our black maid who kissed my hurt spots, cooked the world's best blackberry pie, and ironed my dresses.  She helped care for my Grandmother who was ill for many years. She acquired her name because that must have been what she said to me or my cousins as I/we explored the house.  Wanting to touch and climb and do all the little things that curiosity beckons little ones to experience.  If you saw the movie, "The Help", you might have seen my No NO.  I loved her the way little girls love the people who care for them.
     
    Anyway Ft Benning was integrated. It was integrated when I was in kindergarten and grade school. When school started in seventh grade, I joined Girl Scouts.  A girl at school was in my troop lived nearby. I invited her to ride with me to scouts.  We could stop for a treat at my house on the way.  After I came home from scouts my mother told me she could not come back.  She was black and that was not acceptable.  I hadn't noticed; she was just a nice girl from my class.  My mother and her generation lived in a different world and unfortunately so did most of America.  This was before Martin Luther King and the civil rights fight began.  Many of the best and brightest in my school were minorities. I didn't understand why my parents did not know.
     
    As a child it all seemed simple. Each Sunday I sang the song  "Jesus loves the children. All the children of the world. Red and Yellow, Black and White. They are precious in His sight.  Jesus loves the little children of the world."  It was confusing to hear adult conversation so different.   I was waiting for them to learn what I already knew.
     
    I was not a bold child - nope not even a little.  I did not want to knock on doors selling Girl Scout cookies. I thought I knew the perfect place to sell cookies and I guess I did.  The base movie theater!   Hungry GI's were glad to spend a little to buy that familiar taste from home. We stood outside with our boxes and sold all that we had.
     
    Seventh grade was a struggle.  The kids there were so far ahead in their studies.  It took all year to catch up.  I had never seen a sentence diagrammed. Argh!  Eighth grade was much better.  My homeroom teacher was Mrs Springer.  I loved her.  She had not been my homeroom teacher from the start.  One day at the beginning of the year she asked me to stay after school.  She told me I was moving from my other class to her home room.  Her class was the second hardest class (out of nine homerooms) and she told me I could do the work. It was exciting.
     
    We read aloud "Evangeline: A Tale of Acadia" by Longfellow.  The story of a young woman who on her wedding day was separated from the world she knew and spent a lifetime to find her true love as he died in her arms.  We learned algebra and it was exciting.  The next year in Manchester - everything was a repeat of what I had learned at Benning.  Which is interesting because my college freshman English and math was a repeat of what I learned from Ms Pinkston in Manchester. But that is another story.
     
    I entered a school contest writing about American History and won!  The only person more excited was mother.
     
    Mother took me the base dental office for an exam.  My dentist in Greenwood had my confidence. However, this new office did not win me over.  I had a cavity and would need a filling and Novocaine. I insisted my dad come and hold my hand before this incompetent man could give me a shot.  How did I know he was incompetent?  He did not know what "monkey grease" was.  My dentist in Greenwood always put "monkey grease" on my gums before a shot of Novocaine.  This so-called dentist did not even know what it was.  My dad came and explained everything to the dentist and all was well. (PS.... I was eleven.)
     
    There was a block of time when the Bennett girls went through every communicable disease possible - one at a time.  Red measles - first Jan, then Gaye, then Barb. Mumps - first Jan, then Gaye, then Barb. Then German measles all of us one at a time.  I don't think mother was able to leave to do anything.  Mother had her personal challenges also.  She had to have a tumor removed... this required a full hysterectomy.  She shared a room with a lady who had cancer and was dying.  She was touched that this lady was going home to teach her girls all she could before she became too weak. It weighed on her mind and she felt vunerable and grateful to recover.
     
    Middle school/ Junior High kids think they are nearly grown.  They or at least I liked to explore.  Holly Lamb and I went exploring one day.  There was an undeveloped lot a few blocks away.  Undeveloped is an under statement.  It was overgrown with thick weeds and thorny bushes.  Who knows what kind of snakes and small animals called it home.  Having totally lost track of time, we made it well into the back of the lot. We didn't even notice we had missed lunch.  When I heard my dad calling my name.  When I responded and he saw I was OK, he was mad as .... well, he was mad!
     
    He told me to get home now.  I had escaped scratches from the brambles before I saw him, but making it out I was not so lucky.  Later would not be better.  By the time I walked home I deeply regretted my lack of caution.  The only thing that saved me from a real spanking was mother seeing my bleeding legs. 
     
    On another trip to the wild side, a group of us went to Rush Pool.  This was a large pool set up for enlisted men and families.  At this time the pool was empty. We climbed to the top of the spillway and slid down on the soles of our tennis shoes. However,  I tipped back and came down on my bum. The cement was like sandpaper.  When I got to the bottom, I was down to MY bottom.  The fabric on my shorts had rubbed off and I looked like a cowboy wearing chaps.  I had to walk across a four way highway leading into the base and then through neighborhoods trying to face away from traffic and people.