WHO WAS JOHN BOONE'S REBECCA?

WHO WAS JOHN BOONE’S REBECCA?

John Boone, Sr. was born Dec. 6, 1727 (just 7 years short of 300 years before this was written).  His Mother, Ann Farmer Boone died shortly after his birth.  His father, Benjamin M. Boone would not remarry for almost 9 years, and during that period young John spent much time in the home of his Uncle and Aunt, Squire and Sarah Morgan Boone.  John moved with his Uncle Squire’s family from Pennsylvania to Rowan, North Carolina when he was a very young man.  He took land there and began farming around 1750.

Almost all sources are in agreement that he married his Rebecca on Aug. 14, 1753.  Some of these records indicate that Rebecca Boone was born between 1730 and 1735 (an appropriate age for her husband, born in 1727).  There is general agreement that John died in 1803 (year of the Louisiana Purchase), but the exact date  is disputed, and given as Aug. 6 or Nov. 12 of that year.  He died in his home in Hunting Creek, Rowan, North Carolina, near Mocksville. While some sources say Rebecca Boon died in 1813, others report that she lived until 1820.  Most give her place of death as the Boone home in N.C.; one places her death in Lincoln, TN.  However this may result from confusion with her daughter, also named Rebecca Boone, who died in Lincoln, TN on March 29, 1816.  All identified sources place her burial in Mocksville, N.C.

THE MYSTERY IS:

WHAT WAS REBECCA BOONE’S MAIDEN NAME, 

AND WHO WERE HER PARENTS?

ANSWERS FROM TRADITIONAL GENEALOGY

Everything statement I make herein is based on the information I currently have.  I am describing these findings in hopes that you can guide me to new information.  I am ready to revise any and all of the following statements on the basis of new findings.  I gratefully look forward to your response.

There are three viable candidates for consideration.  The most widely cited and accepted is REBECCA BRYAN, daughter of MORGAN BRYAN and his wife MARTHA STROUD.  This identification has been repeated so frequently in family histories, that the other two candidates are often confused with her, and information related to Rebecca BRYAN is copied into the files of the other two Rebecca’s.  

The second candidate is REBECCA DAVIS (or DAVIES), the daughter of MYRICK (also spelled MIRICK or MERRICK) DAVIS and his wife MARGARET “MARGOT” LYNN (it is unclear whether Lynn is a middle name or a Surname).  

The third candidate is REBECCA POTTS.  Little is known about Rebecca Potts.  She is a candidate because of a single record, showing her  marrying “JOHN BONE” on Oct. 24, 1787 in Rowan, North Carolina.  Our JOHN BOONE (b, 1727) would have been 60 on this marriage date, if he is indeed the groom. 

 

Interestingly, this record is often cited as evidence of the marriage of REBECCA DAVIS and JOHN BOONE.  It has even been suggested that REBECCA DAVIS first married an Unknown POTTS, thus changing her name to Potts before she married JOHN BOONE.  While this is clearly possible, evidence supporting the theory is missing.  Until we can find additional information about REBECCA POTTS, it is impossible to further evaluate her potential for being our John’s Rebecca.  We will therefore focus the remainder of this discussion on the other two Rebecca’s.

If the evaluation of REBECCA POTTS suffers from a paucity of information, evaluation of REBECCA BRYAN suffers from an excess.  The same contemporary evidence, and later assertions of knowledge are repeated, often with different references, so a single source may multiply over time.  The difficulties lie in tracing original sources, and evaluating each, and thanks to overabundance, this is a gargantuan task.  Many researchers have repeated false information or made unsupported assertions.  These “false” statements have the effect of casting doubt on all of the evidence.

I am not attempting in this report to cite and evaluate each source or each piece of evidence relating to REBECCA BRYAN.  Rather I summarize by saying that the weight of evidence is such that under most circumstances, REBECCA BRYAN would be accepted as "more-likely-than-not" to be the wife of JOHN BOONE.  The “hearsay” evidence and obviously “false” assertions tend to cast doubt, and create controversy.

In evaluating whether REBECCA BRYAN is REBECCA BOONE, it is essential to differentiate between the two REBECCA BRYANS, who married Boone men.  One of the reasons Boone Family Researchers have been quick to assume that John Boone married REBECCA BRYAN is because a number of Boone family members married Bryans.  There were at least three (and if John Boone married Rebecca BRYAN) possibly four marriages between Boones and Bryans in Rowen N.C. in a 15 year period in the mid 1700’s.  

The most famous Boone-Bryan union was the marriage of Daniel Boone and Rebecca Bryan.  Rebecca BRYAN who married Daniel Boone was the daughter of the eldest son of MORGAN BRYAN and MARTHA STROUD — JOSEPH BRYAN.  Daniel’s Rebecca was the daughter of Joseph Bryan and the granddaughter of  Morgan Bryan.  REBECCA BRYAN, possible wife of JOHN BOONE, was the daughter of Morgan Bryan, and the younger sister of Joseph Bryan.  Thus, REBECCA BRYAN, possible wife of JOHN BOONE, was the Aunt of Rebecca BRYAN, wife of Daniel Boone.  

    Since Daniel Boone and John Boone were first cousins, who were raised in the same household, and had homes only miles apart, this created multiple confusions in records.  It is small wonder that many mistakes have compounded related to two REBECCA BRYAN BOONEs.   Many of the false assertions, and obviously false evidence related to REBECCA BRYAN, Sr., are rooted in confusions between these two women.  For convenience, when there is potential for confusion, I refer to the Aunt as Rebecca BRYAN, Sr.

The weight of evidence places REBECCA BRYAN, Sr.’s birth in Opequon, Winchester, Frederick, VA in 1735.  However, she may have been born as early as 1730 or as late as 1739 (this later date is unlikely if she is the wife of JOHN BOONE, Sr, because she would have been only 14 at their marriage).  Rebecca, Sr., was the youngest daughter, and possibly the youngest child born to Capt. Bryan and his wife Martha.  If she is not the Rebecca who married JOHN BOONE in 1753, then there is no further record of her.  No other marriage or death record that has been located for this REBECCA BRYAN. 

 

REBECCA DAVIS (or DAVIES) has, in recent years become a prime candidate for REBECCA BOONE.  The reports that support REBECCA DAVIS give her birth year as 1730 and the location as Rowan (now Davidson) County, N.C.  This is entirely appropriate and in keeping with the marriage date of 1753 and the age of JOHN BOON, Sr.  These records also give her as the daughter of Capt. Myrick (Mirick or Merrick) Davis (or Davies) a well-known resident of Rowen County.  The name of REBECCA’S mother, wife of Capt. Davies, is somewhat controversial, but may have been Margaret “Margot” Lynn. 

Other than the exact identity of his wife, the life of Capt. Myrick Davis is very well-documented.  There is, however, a major problem with the identification of REBECCA DAVIS as the daughter of Capt. Myrick Davis — he didn’t have a daughter named Rebecca.  In his will, Capt. Myrick carefully names his children and grandchildren, and there is no Rebecca an no Boone grandchildren.  

Further, Myrick Davis wasn’t born until 1735, five years after the stated birth of REBECCA DAVIS.  I have attempted to determine if there was a generational error.  I have searched for a Myrick Davis who might have been the parent of both REBECCA DAVIS and Capt. Myrick.  However, Myrick was the son of Hugh Davis, and Hugh Davis did not have a daughter named Rebecca. Hugh was he son of John Shion Zion Dafydd (Welsh spelling of David ) Davis.  I have not found other children of this John, who might be parents of REBECCA DAVIS.

There were at least one and quite possibly two Rebecca Davis’s in Rowan County, N.C. during this time period, but neither seems likely to have been born in 1730.  Both are identified by marriage records that would indicate a later birth date.  The first of these REBECCA DAVIS’S married JOHN VARNER on May 4, 1784.  John was born in 1765, so we can assume that this Rebecca was born later than 1730.  Their marriage is well-documented, as is John Varner’s life.  Their oldest child, Lucy Varner is reported to have been born on Dec. 8, 1788; and their last child, Nancy Catherine Varner was born Sept 10, 1822.

The second marriage record for a REBECCA DAVIS in that area of North Carolina is dated 1824.  On that date, a Rebecca Davis married a Benjamin Boone.  I have 3 possible Benjamin Boones, ranging in age from 18 to 70, but I cannot identify any of these as the spouse of a Rebecca Davis.

In a couple of family tree’s, I have found a cited record for REBECCA DAVIS marrying John Boone on Oct. 24, 1787.  However, when I examine a copy of this record, the name of the bride is REBECCA POTTS, not REBECCA DAVIS.  As stated above, Rebecca Davis could have become Rebeca Potts through marriage, but I haven’t found records for this marriage.

In short, I haven’t found evidence for a REBECCA DAVIS marrying JOHN BOONE.  REBECCA DAVIS (b.1730) could not have been a daughter of Capt. Myrick Davis (b.1735), and Myrick did not have a daughter named Rebecca of any age.  There was a REBECCA DAVIS who was the wife of JOHN VARNER, and apparently a REBECCA POTTS who married a “JOHN BONE.”

ANSWERS FROM GENETIC GENEALOGY

Since we are investigating the female lines, Y-DNA does not offer answers to this problem.  Mitochondrial DNA would be valuable if we could identify a daughter of a daughter of a daughter, etc. of REBECCA BOONE.  However, at this time autosomal DNA is the only evidence available that might shed light on the identity of REBECCA BOONE wife of JOHN BOONE.

Charles Freeman is a 4th great grandson of JOHN. Sr. and REBECCA BOONE, and a 5th great grandson their parents (i.e. Benjamin Boone and Ann Farmer; and Morgan Bryan and Martha Stroud). He has done Y-DNA testing with FTDNA and Autosomal testing with 2 companies, including Ancestry. 

Ancestry’s Thrulines suffers from a number of problems, but can be used to offer insights into the identity of REBECCA BOONE.  First, it is important to keep in mind that while DNA doesn’t lie, people do — or at least people make mistakes.  If several people make the same mistake in their family trees, Thrulines will reflect this agreement between trees and produce false matches deriving from the common mistake.

For this reason, reporting the results of Thrulines for JOHN BOONE, and each of the potential REBECCA BOONES will not prove that any one of the potential Rebecca’s is the right one.  All it shows is how many of those who have been tested, believe that a particular Rebecca was the wife of JOHN BOONE. 

 

Charles shows 132 matches to living people who trace their ancestry to JOHN BOONE, Sr.  Of these 25 are descended through John Boone, Jr. (Charles' direct Ancestor).  The remaining 107 are descended through JOHN BOONE’S other children.  This is strong evidence of Charles’ relationship with JOHN BOONE, but does not offer proof of the identity of REBECCA BOONE.

In contrast, Charles has only 109 matches with living individuals who believe they are descended from REBECCA BRYAN.  These include 26 who are descended through John Boone, Jr., and 83 who are descended through the other children of JOHN and REBECCA BOONE.    Again, this is almost like a vote, and only proves that a lot of John Boone, Sr.’s descendants believe his wife was REBECCA BRYAN.

A far more revealing test, is to consider the parents of JOHN BOONE and REBECCA BRYAN.  Charles shows autosomal DNA matches to 56 living individuals who believe they are descended from Capt. MORGAN BRYAN (REBECCA BRYAN’S father).  Twenty-seven of these matches are through REBECCA BRYAN, and could thus be subject to error in identification.  However, the remaining 29 matches are descended from siblings of REBECCA BRYAN, and not subject to a simple misidentification of JOHN BOONE’S wife.  These 29 matches support the identification of REBECCA BOONE as Rebecca BRYAN.  

The distribution of these matches demonstrates a pattern that also conveys support for this identification.  The largest number of matches to Rebecca BRYAN (10) are descendants of JOHN BRYAN.  JOHN BRYAN is a brother of REBECCA BRYAN.  John married SARAH HOBBS, and as it turns out, Charles is a Hobbs descendant, distantly related to Sarah.  This twist demonstrates one reason why caution must always be taken in interpreting autosomal DNA results. 

In contrast to the robust 56 matches to Morgan Bryan, Charles shows only 8 matches to living individuals who identify themselves as descendants of Martha Strode.  My only hypothesis regarding this discrepancy is that many of those who identify themselves as descendants of Morgan Bryan do not list Martha Strode as his wife.  We continue to explore this difference.

Similar to his matches with Morgan Bryan, Charles has 53 matches to living individuals who claim descent from Benjamin M. Boone.  Of these, 36 are through JOHN BOONE, Sr., only son of ANN FARMER.  The remaining 17 are descended from John’s half siblings, the children of Benjamin M. Boone and his second wife, Susannah Likins.   As would be expected, Charles shows 36 matches to ANN FARMER, are all through her only son, John.

I experimented with setting up an Ancestry Tree in which Charles was descended from REBECCA DAVIS and did not find any matches with descendants of Rebecca or with descendants of MYRICK DAVIS.  I did not experiment with REBECCA POTTS because I have no parents for this candidate.

CONCLUSION

While far from conclusive, the evidence I have accumulated to date would support the identity of REBECCA BOON (wife of JOHN BOONE) as being REBECCA BRYAN, daughter of Morgan Bryan.  I eagerly await new information whether that information supports or refutes this conclusion.

STORIES FROM SISTER

STORIES FROM SISTER

Between1988 and 1995, two Heard Cousins, Sarah Jolie Allardyce Rhine and Frances Ruth Jackson Freeman published a Family Newsletter — WE HEARD —for the descendants of James Addison Heard and Clora Frances Nolen Heard.  Each issue included Family History, Current Family News, and Childhood Reminisces. Patricia  Rogers Heard saved many copies, and recently shared these.  Over the intervening 30 years, the “Current News” became reminisces, while the Reminisces became Family History.  In this series of Blogs, we are reprinting materials from WE HEARD.   The original articles are printed in Black; comments and new information are inserted in Red.  With thanks to Pat, who made it possible, we dedicate these Blogs to the Memory of:  

SARA JOLIE ALLERDYCE RHINE

Harriet Elizabeth Heard -- Sister

Tommy Heard and Harriet Elizabeth "Sister"

Harriet Elizabeth Heard was the third grandchild and first grand daughter born to James Addison and Clora Frances Nolen Heard.  It was natural that she would be known to All as — “SISTER.”  Sister told these Heard Family stories  to WE HEARD in Vol. 2, No. 2, Oct. 10, 1990

Uncle France’s Haircut

Daddy and Uncle France (in their teens) were sent to town to get feed and other supplies.  Daddy let Uncle France off at the barber shop and drove the wagon to the Pitkin Mercantile to pick up the order.  When they met again, Uncle France took off his hat to reveal a bald head.  They got home and unloaded the wagon and Grandma called them in to wash up for supper.  Everyone was seated around the table and Uncle France had his hat on.  Grandpa said, “Take that hat off.”  France did, and Grandpa said, “Put that hat on.”

Dad (Red) said that before Uncle France got his head shaved his hair was straight, and after wearing his hat for several months his hair grew back, and it was curly.

Uncle Red’s Appendix

Daddy (Red) had several large deep scars on his abdomen.  He said when he was 5 or 6 years old, he had a terrible stomach ache that home remedies didn’t cure.  He was taken to Oakdale in a wagon.  He was operated on for acute appendicitis.  He said that just as his belly was opened his appendix burst and spread poison all through his abdomen.  He had several bad weeks, but was lucky to live to tell the story.  

(Medical Note: Since Red was born in 1898, this surgery would have taken place in 1903 or 04.  Only 30 years earlier, in 1874, Dr. John Erichson of University Hospital London solemnly declared the intestinal region, “forever shut from the intrusion of the wise and humane surgeon.”  A revolution in operative technique took place between 1880 and 1900.  At the turn of the century, Dr. Charles McBurney at Roosevelt Hospital, NY, was becoming famous for his new appendix incision — an incision that specifically avoided surgical rupturing a swollen, infected appendix, especially in the small abdominal cavity of a child.)

Sister and the Fish Hook

I was visiting in Pitkin when I was about 6 years old.  I guess I’d gone there with Aunt Myrtis Lee or Aunt Vera or Uncle Pete or Uncle Meredith (the Heard children who were at LSU in Baton Rouge at that time).  Every time a car headed to Pitkin, I hitched a ride.  Uncle Alton and Uncle Lindsey were still living at home, and they hung their fishing baits on a stringer on the back porch.  I knew not to touch them, but I was a hard-headed Heard, and the temptation was too great.

I climbed on a chair and was closely examining the bait when Uncle Alton came around the corner of the house and said in a read scary voice, “Little girl, what are you doing?”

Well, I was scared to death and grabbed that string of baits for dear life.  As luck would have it one of the hooks went straight through a little piece of skin between my thumb and forefinger.

Imagine this scene.  The house is crowded with kinfolks.  I was screaming.  Grandpa was sharpening a straight razor.  Grandma was telling him not to cut it out; and everyone had an opinion.  I screamed and squirmed, and no one could hold my hand still for Grandpa to operate.

I was taken to Elizabeth (a nearby town), and every time we hit a bump in the road the hook moved and I would scream.  Well, it was not major surgery, but I do still have a scar.  I got an ice cream cone for being so brave.

Dating With Uncle Lindsey

My brother Tommy and I got new bicycles the Christmas I was seven and he was ten.  The next summer we took them to Pitkin with us.  Uncle Lindsey was the only child (16 0r 17) left at home and he was dating Bernadine Johnson.

One Saturday night a traveling country music show was in town to perform at the Pitkin High School auditorium.  Lindsey and Tommy rode double on Tommy’s bike and I rode mine, and we went to town to pick up Bernadine.  We enjoyed the show and took Bernadine home.  Tommy and I waited by the gate for what seemed like hours for Uncle Lindsey to say, “Goodnight.”

It was a very warm summer night, and we felt the heat as we headed home.  We got to the six-mile creek bridge, and Lindsey and Tommy left me on the bridge, with the bicycles, and they took a skinny dip in the creek to cool off.

Before we got home, we stopped by Mrs. Moore’s watermelon patch and picked up two melons, just to see if they were getting ripe.  We crossed the little bridge at the branch and went up next to the fence to eat the melons.  We dropped the melons to open them because we didn’t have a knife.  Of course they were green.

We headed on home by the light of a very bright moon, and were met on the porch by a very upset Grandma Heard.  The watermelon evidence was found the next day.  I don’t remember too much about that; but I do know that the bikes did not leave the farm, and Tommy and I didn’t go dating with Lindsey again.

HEARD FAMILY HEROES -- Archie Glenn Heard

Between1988 and 1995, two Heard Cousins, Sarah Jolie Allardyce Rhine and Frances Ruth Jackson Freeman published a Family Newsletter — WE HEARD —for the descendants of James Addison Heard and Clora Frances Nolen Heard.  Each issue included Family History, Current Family News, and Childhood Reminisces. Patricia  Rogers Heard saved many copies, and recently shared these.  Over the intervening 30 years, the “Current News” became reminisces, while the Reminisces became Family History.  In this series of Blogs, we are reprinting materials from WE HEARD.   The original articles are printed in Black; comments and new information are inserted in Red.  With thanks to Pat, who made it possible, we dedicate these Blogs to the Memory of:  SARA JOLIE ALLERDYCE RHINE

WE HEARD

VOLUME 2.                 October 10, 1990.                   Number 2

REMEMBERING GLENN

          

Glenn between his sisters Vera and Myrtis Lee with brother Simmie about the time of his enlistment.  He is wearing the Calvary Uniform complete with riding boots.

         

            Glen Heard was born Feb. 11, 1905, in Pitkin, LA., the fourth child and third son of James Addison Heard and Clora Nolen Heard.  He finished high school about 1921, and enrolled at LSU.  He left school, without giving his Mother and Father  notice, and joined the U. S. Army. 

    

Glenn is somewhere among the men engaged in the Tug-of War at Ft. Sam Houston

        These were the years following WWI, and Glenn was stationed at Ft. Hood, Tx, and later at Ft. Sam Houston in San Antonio, TX.  He was in the U.S. Calvary.  Photographs from this era show him as a handsome young man in a dashing uniform astride a big, dark horse.  Some of the photos were taken on the parade grounds in the oldest portion of Ft.. Sam Houston. In one photo, his Calvary Unit is doing a mounted drill straight out of the wild west days.

During Glenn's time in service, the Calvary completed the change from Horses to Motor Vehicles.  This was among his photos taken at Ft. Sam Houston

   

Believed to be Ruby Lee
Deramus about the time of 
her marriage.

  Glenn left the Army about 1935 (approximately age 30); and married Ruby DeRamus shortly after returning home to Pitkin. (Glenn and Ruby were second cousins, sharing great grandparents in William and Caroline Jelks Jones.  Louisiana Governor Sam Houston Jones was another of their mutual cousins.)  Glenn and Ruby lost one baby, but were blessed with a son and a daughter, Toney and Jerrye Heard. (Toney died young in 1998. Jerrye is a widow living in Alaska)

        In 1939, as World War II was beginning in Europe, Glenn re-enlisled. When the U.S. entered the war, he was sent to England.   Glenn and his youngest brother, Lindsey were in London at the same time. They visited each other one night during a bombing raid. 

     

Glenn Heard in Airforce Uniform in WWII

   At this time, Glenn was in the Army Air Corp.  When the Air Force was organized from the Army Air Corp, Glenn was among the very first members of that new branch of the service. 

        Among my Mother's (Myrtis Lee Heard Jackson's memorabilia were two V-Mails from Glenn dated May 3,1944.   This was only one month before the Invasion of Normandy (Operation Overlord), and a year before the end of the War in Europe.  At that time Glenn, his younger brother Lindsey, his nephew Hewell, and their cousin Nolen Miller were all in England.  Hewell was in the Air Force and Lindsey in the Army.  All three would participate in the Invasion on June 6.  Also in England at that time was my Dad's youngest brother Johnnie Jackson. Ginger, referred to by Glenn in the letter, was an Irish Setter puppy that Glenn raised and my Daddy bought from Ruby.  The text below was published in the Oct. 10, 1990 Issue of WE HEARD. The introduction is taken from the original article.

        For our younger readers, V-Mail was much a part of World War II.  Letters written by soldiers were photocopied and reduced to film to limit the volume of mail.  Letters had to be written on standardized V-Mail forms, staying carefully within margins.  In the states, the printed photocopies were sent to the recipients.  The name of the addressee and of the Censor who approved the information was at the top of the letter.  Anything considered a security risk was blacked out by the Censor.

  

5-3-44

Wed. Nite

Dear Sis,

        Am sorry that I have not written sooner, but I have had my ups and downs over here the same as everybody else, I guess.  But anyway, I am starting over in a new outfit.  It took quite some time to get the transfer thru, but anyway I have been here over a week and am liking it better every day.  Plenty of sunshine each day and best of all a sea breeze all the time. It is much better than London.  There is nothing that I can say in regards to your question about these air raids.  Anyway since I am not in London any more I am not apt to be bothered about having to hunt a hole on account of raids.

    

        I was to meet Johnnie Jackson in Feb., but was on furlough myself, so did not get to see him.  He left the day I got back.  Yes, Nolen is over here, has been for quite some time.  We were planning on meeting but don't guess we will now that I have left London.

        I hope that Jack does not have to go in June -- But still from what I read they are going to keep getting them.  From what they have written me about Bob, I don't guess he will have to worry any more about himself -- other than just about getting over his troubles and then not being bothered with it again.

        Jack, if you breed Ginger this summer and she has a good litter, I would like a dog puppy sent down to the children.  But let me tell you something, she may turn out to be a real mean with puppies.  Her Mama did so.  Toney was the the only person who could go to her and the puppies.  So be careful with the children.  I would hate to hear of her biting any of you.

        About the size of writing news, so good night and good luck for everyone.

Your Bro.,

Glenn.

Letter #2 (Written almost 2 months after the Normandy Landing.  The night after he wrote this the Germans launched 316 Buzz Bombs at London.  Over 100 reached their targets, including one that damaged the Tower Bridge)

"8-1-1944

Dear Sis,

        Guess you often wonder what I am doing that I do not write more than I do.  I just can't make myself write like I used to, and it's not laziness either.  I just sit around now and wonder what is going on at home.  Is everyone afraid they will hurt my feelings writing me about things. . . I would like to have chicken.  Also would like a carton of cigarettes.  Not able to have enough now as Lindsey (a non-smoker who gave Glenn his smokes) is in France.  As soon as I can get Hewell's address I plan on going up to see him -- providing he is still in England.  Will try and not wait so long again.

Love, Glenn.

         When WWII ended, Glenn remained in the service, making a career in the Air Force.  His marriage to Ruby did not survive the stresses of the War years (as suggested in his second letter).  In 1945 Glenn married Bertha Mattis of Pitkin. They had no children, but cared for foster children while stationed in Alaska. (Glenn's daughter, Jerrye Don D'Anza, and her family would make Alaska their permanent home, linking that state to his family.)

        After retiring from the military, Glenn and Bertha retired to Pitkin.  In his retirement years, Glenn raised cattle.  For a period they lived at the farm with Grandmaw Heard, but then Glenn and Bertha built their own place behind her parent's historic "dogtrot" home near Pitkin.  Though he no longer lived on the farm, Glenn cared for his Mother, visiting her every day, and helping out as needed.  Glenn helped his mother manage the family farm for many years. After her death, he always "saw to things" around the place, and helped keep things going for the Heard Land Corp. (The  family corporation which still owns the Heard Farm.  His younger brother, Lindsey lived near by, in DeRidder, and they were close.)

        Glenn and Bertha were very active in the Masonic Lodge, the Eastern Star and several Veteran organizations. Glenn was a Shriner.  In 1988, Glenn was honored by the Eastern Star for his many contributions to that organization.  He was beloved in his community where be helped many people. 

        For many years Glenn was in charge of the cemetery at Blue Branch (where many of our family are buried). He took great pride in "keeping things up."

        

         The last year of Glenn's life was spent in the Veterans Administration Medical Center Nursing Home in Alexandria, La.  He was a favorite of the nurses and therapists, and enjoyed long reminisces about the War with other veterans.   (While Glenn was in the nursing home, Bertha passed away.  The husband of Glenn's niece, Charles Freeman, was director of the VAMC while Glenn was a resident). 

       

        Attending the 1989 Fall Heard Family Reunion was very important to Glenn. He looked forward to the evert, and told nurses, and his therapist about the reunion afterward. (Glenn passed away on Nov. 15, 1989, a month after his last reunion.)

        Glenn Heard traveled and saw more of the world than any of his brothers and sisters, but in the end, he was the only one to return to Pitkin to make his home.  Even as the anniversary of his death approaches, his presence is very much felt.  Of all of us, Glenn was the most faithful in attending the biannual family reunions. When any of the family went to the farm to hunt or work, or just visit, Glenn was always there.  Most of us will never visit the Farm without feeling Glenn is there, in spirit and in our fond memories. (30 years later, the Heard Family still gathers at the farm and we always know Glenn is there with us.)

_______________________________________________________________

         The following is taken from the December, 1988 Issue of WE HEARD.  This was written a few months before Aunt Bertha's death, and slightly less than a year before Glenn's passing. This is an example of the "Current News" articles carried in the newsletter.

            News From Glenn

            Uncle Glenn is presently in the Nursing Home of the Veteran's Administration Hospital in Alexandria.  He was able to spend the Thanksgiving Holidays at home.  He has been able to go home about every other weekend, and Aunt Bertha comes to the hospital each Thursday or Friday.

        

        Controlling his blood sugar and blood pressure levels is critical, and the Nursing Home provides this aspect of his care.  He said that Aunt Bertha was ill the weekend after Thanksgiving, but she was better when she visited this past Thursday.  

        For several months he was prevented from going home because he was having  "spells," which included blacking out.  He has not had one of these "spells" for several months.  He has given up smoking, and this may have helped his circulation.

        Last spring and summer several members of the family including Myrtis Lee, Addie, Sara Joe, Meredith, Bette Lois, and Lois visited him, but he has had few visitors in the last months.  The holidays are a hard time to be away from home, and cards and letters would certainly be appreciated.  These can be addressed to Genn Heard, Nursing Home, Veterans Administration Medical Center, Alexandria, LA 72301.        

HEARD FAMILY HEROES -- Hewell Heard

James Hewell Heard was born Jan. 7, 1922 in Alexandria, La. and died Sept. 12, 2003 in Hodge, La.  He was the son of Francis Hewell Heard and Bessie Laura Welch; the husband of Helen Mary Ellen Wingert; and the father of James Hewell Heard, Jr., Michael Francis Heard, and Robin Elizabeth Heard. He was the oldest grandson of James Addison Heard and his wife Clora Frances Nolen. Hewell was considered a "hero" in a family that sent a dozen sons and grandsons to fight in WWI and WWII.  This story is written by his son James "Jimmy" Hewell Heard, Jr. 

HEWELL HEARD'S MILITARY CAREER

       

       

Hewell Heard at LA Tech

 Hewell Heard was an engineering student in his Junior year at La.Polytechnic Institute when the U. S. entered into WWII. At the end of the semester he enlisted in the Army Air Corp. After Basic training he was accepted into Pilot Training. He completed primary flight training and soloed. About this time he was told that if he continued pilot training he might miss the war. If he went to navigation school, he was sure to see action. He decided to leave pilot training and attend navigation school at Randolph Field in Texas.

        After completing navigation school, he was ordered to Rapid City, S. D and was assigned to a B-17 crew. His fiance, Helen Wingert traveled by train to Rapid City and they were married.

        He was assigned to the James D. Taylor crew and they were given a new B-17 to deliver to England, They flew to Greenland, then Ireland, and then England. They were assigned to the 95th Bomb Group, 336 Squadron based in Horham. The 95th was the first BG to bomb Berlin.

        He went to sleep that night thinking he would look over the base and the town the next day. Instead he was awakened at 4 AM and told to put on his flying clothes since he was flying that day, He got dressed and went to briefing thinking a mistake had been made. At briefing he was told he was replacing a navigator who had appendicitis.

        So he joined the J. L. Walker crew on a mission to Rahmel, Germany. They continued flying east to Poltava, Russia. The next day they bombed a target at Trzebinia, Germany and returned to Poltava. The next day they bombed a target in Poland and flew on to Foggia, Italy. Four days later they bombed an airfield in France and returned to Horham. Each leg of this shuttle mission counted as a mission. He rejoined the Taylor crew who were still waiting for a B-17. He had 4 missions completed while the rest of the crew had none. At this time 25 missions completed a combat tour. A few months later this was changed to 35.

        His 21st mission was to Mantz, Germany. On the return trip the airplane was hit by flak in the No. 2 engine. Oil pressure was lost and the pilot was unable to feather the prop. The engine caught fire and the pilot ordered all enlisted men to bail out. He told Hewell and the bombardier that he saw a possible site for a crash landing about 20 miles ahead and they needed to drop the ball turret from the airplane. The bombardier went forward to destroy the bombsight. Hewell looked out and saw the fire had gotten much worse. The pilot rang the bailout alarm and Hewell stepped to the rear door and jumped. He landed okay in a French farmyard. A young girl brought him a glass of wine. He learned that he was behind the German lines. Members of the French resistance hid him. Several days later, they dressed him in a nun's habit and he walked through the German lines until he ran into the American infantry. They put him on a truck to Paris. He returned to Horham a few days later.

        The entire crew returned safely on October 16, 1944. They continued to fly missions 

        On the morning that he left on that 21st mission, a ground crew member approached him and handed him a twenty pound note to repay a loan. Hewell told him to keep it until he returned but the man said he might lose it in a poker game and put it in a zipper leg pocket on Hewell's flight suit where it was quickly forgotten. He had given the French family his parachute and all the money in his escape kit in appreciation for their help. He arrived in Paris on a Sunday and none of the American offices were open. He was hungry and broke so he started walking. He saw an American officer at a sidewalk cafe having wine and cheese . He introduced himself and told himhis story. The man told him to sit down, have some wine and cheese and they would figure out what to do next. Then Hewell remembered the twenty pound note in his pocket. They called the waiter over and asked if he could convert it to French currency. He said that he could not but knew where he could do it. He returned a short time later and handed Hewell a big wad of French currency. He went to a hotel, cleaned up, ate a big meal, and visited several bars and then went to bed. When he returned to England, he went to the currency exchange to exchange the French money for British. They gave him twenty-two pounds.

        Hewell flew his thirty-fifth mission on January 23, 1945 and was immediately shipped back to the states. The pilot had given a package to deliver to his wife in Lynchburg, Virginia. When he arrived there, Mrs. Taylor told him that the J.D. Taylor plane had been shot down on its 34th mission. No survivors were reported. A few months later the Red Cross reported that the entire crew was in POW camps and later liberated.

        Hewell was posted to Selman field in Monroe, Louisiana where he was a navigation instructor. When the war ended, he stayed in the Air Force Reserves until he retired with the rank of Major.

CHRISTMAS AT THE FARM

CHRISTMAS AT THE FARM

Memories Within Memories

Between1988 and 1995, two Heard Cousins, Sarah Jolie Allardyce Rhine and Frances Ruth Jackson Freeman published a Family Newsletter — WE HEARD —for the descendants of James Addison Heard and Clora Frances Nolen Heard.  Each issue included Family History, Current Family News, and Childhood Reminisces. Patricia  Rogers Heard saved many copies, and recently shared these.  Over the intervening 30 years, the “Current News” became reminisces, while the Reminisces became Family History.  In this series of Blogs, we are reprinting materials from WE HEARD.   The original articles are printed in Black; comments and new information are inserted in Red.  With thanks to Pat, who made it possible, we dedicate these Blogs to the Memory of:  SARA JOLIE ALLERDYCE RHINE

WE HEARD

VOLUME I.                      December, 1988.                       Number 2

A CHRISTMAS MEMORY

For all the early years of my life, (1940-1957) Christmas Day was spent at Mawmaw and Pawpaw Heard’s farm.  There was always lots of love, food, and cousins.  I cannot remember much about presents — being together seemed the point, and the joy, of those holidays.  I recall only one very special gift — Aunt Vera brought me a puppy so small she carried it in her pocket.

There were always great meals, including Christmas dinner, but somehow Grandma’s wonderful breakfasts are best remembered.  To me, they were an impossible extravagance.  I can visualize the loaded table.  In the center was a huge platter of quail, fried a golden brown (the Uncles had hunted the day before).  Sometimes tender young squirrel would be similarly lightly breaded and fried, but more often, the squirrel would be stewed with a rich light gravy in which tiny fleets of pepper floated.  Sugar cured ham, sliced thin, and browned in its own juices would cover another plate, and by its side would be a bowl of redeye gravy.  Beside this ham was a dish of unsurpassed delight.  To prepare it, Grandma took red sweet potatoes baked to creamy softness, sliced them lengthwise, and butter-browned the slices to a golden crispness.

But the star of every breakfast was Grandma’s biscuits.  For many years after she had an electric range, she kept the old wood stove in her kitchen, strictly for baking (and keeping the kitchen warm). There was an assortment of wonderful things to eat with the biscuits.  Big cakes (pressed circles,1/2 lb. each) of pale yellow, freshly churned butter sat beside fig and pear preserves (and of course apple butter for John Ballis).  I especially liked to cover a biscuit with gravy and then pour fresh ribbon cane syrup over the whole.  One of the cousins christened this combination, a “mess,” but it tasted better than it looked.

At Grandma’s table, you didn’t ask for simply “milk.”  You had to specify whether you wanted “sweet” milk or the thin, bluish “buttermilk” with specks of butter still floating in it.

Other more traditional “breakfast” foods were there, but in quantities that made them seem strange.  Huge bowls of scrambled eggs, grits, or oatmeal appeared and were refilled as they emptied. 

 

There was one dish I never tasted.  I didn’t like the look or the aroma or even the name.  I encountered this dish again, many years later, at Sunday brunch at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel.  The chef called it “clotted cream;” Grandma Heard called it “clabber.”  (It looked and smelled the same.)

In the evenings we would gather around the fireplace in the living room (It was the only warm room in the house.). We would strip the outer coating, and chew freshly-cut sugar cane, then throw the pulp into the fire. None of the modern chemical salts can recreate the colorful flames that spewed from that burning pulp.  Sometimes we would shell and eat nuts, reserving some for pies and cakes. Mawmaw would serve rich, creamy eggnog (nog reserved for adults); and everyone would tell wonderful stories. (Oh how I wish I could hear those stories again.)

Part of the excitement (at least for the children) always centered on the sleeping arrangements.  At least once during the evening one of the Uncles would announce that there were not enough beds and the children who fell asleep first would be hung up on coat hooks for the night.  For years I believed the viability of this threat, mostly because I never could figure out where we would all sleep.

When the size of the crowd permitted, the kids slept four to six to a bed.  Mawmaw achieved economy by making our bed up sideways, after all, we weren’t very long. (We slept cross-wise.).  I feel great sympathy for anyone who has never spent the night snuggled in a warm bed with four or five cousins.  

When there weren’t enough beds, the left-over kids slept on pallets on the floor in the warm living room.  As the fire burned slowly down, we whispered and giggled.  At fairly regular intervals some parent would shout out a warning of the dire consequences that would certainly follow if we did not quiet down and go to sleep.  When things got out of hand, we would hear a pair of feet hit the floor.  By the time the overhead light in the living room went on, we would all be still as mice, pretending deep slumber.

Florence (Adele Heard Larguier) inherited the family gift of story-telling.  She spun the most exciting, never-ending tales, transmitted in a terse whisper in the semidarkness of the flickering fire, over the background ticking of the big old mantle clock.

When the crowd was “too large,” some of the older cousins were occasionally lent out to neighbors.  When Sara and I were in our early teens, our “turn” came.  We were sent to Aunt Bertha’s parents’ home on a bitter cold December night.  This past summer, we revisited that old house, now vacant.  Like most old Louisiana homes it was built with more concern for summer heat than for winter cold.  (It was a Dog-Trot, with the center hall extended to form a long porch with a room on one side.). The spare bedroom was located off an open porch.  It not only had cross ventilation, it had floor ventilation, through quarter-inch spaces between the floor-boards.  The only place colder that that bedroom was the outhouse, that could only be reached by venturing across an unfamiliar, frozen wasteland.  When I hear someone grow nostalgic about the “good old days,” I remember that night and shake my head in appreciation of central heating and indoor plumbing.  

However, I would be more than willing to live that miserable night again if it could be preceded by an evening around that fire and followed by one of MawMaw’s holiday breakfasts.  (Indeed, I would trade everything to see those dear faces and hear again their voices.)