[70705]
[S2944]
1910 Census, Muncie, Delaware Co., IN
[70706]
[S2944]
1910 Census, Muncie, Delaware Co., IN
__
|
_Ezekiel BOGGS ______|
| (1734 - 1815) m 1756|
| |__
|
|
|--Jane BOGGS
| (1764 - ....)
| __
| |
|_Jane JOHNSON _______|
(1735 - 1806) m 1756|
|__
[93301]
[S13453]
http://homepages.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~ruthhall/Boggs/JamesBoggs.htm
__
|
_Robert BOYD ________|
| (1730 - 1793) m 1753|
| |__
|
|
|--Francis Edmonson BOYD
| (1764 - ....)
| __
| |
|_Ann CLARK __________|
(1730 - ....) m 1753|
|__
[49869]
[S4332]
1880 Census, Northampton Twp, Summit Co., OH
[49870]
[S4332]
1880 Census, Northampton Twp, Summit Co., OH
[62420]
[S4378]
1900 Census, Good Hope Twp, Hocking Co., OH
[62421]
[S4378]
1900 Census, Good Hope Twp, Hocking Co., OH
[105281]
[S4378]
1900 Census, Good Hope Twp, Hocking Co., OH
_Samuel MCCONNELL ___+
| (1768 - 1839) m 1791
_Archibald MCCONNELL ____________|
| (1795 - 1847) m 1820 |
| |_Mary PROCTER _______
| (1770 - ....) m 1791
|
|--James Carroll MCCONNELL
| (1827 - 1900)
| _James HOUSTON ______
| | (1775 - 1840) m 1797
|_Eliza Marshall "Betsy" HOUSTON _|
(1799 - 1884) m 1820 |
|_Patience BILLS _____
(1780 - 1859) m 1797
[28102]
[S5883]
1850 Census, Subdivision 2, Lincoln Co., TN
[28103]
[S2212]
Genealogy by Dan Woodruff: e-mail dwoodruff1@charter.net
[28098]
[S2212]
Genealogy by Dan Woodruff: e-mail dwoodruff1@charter.net
[28099]
[S5883]
1850 Census, Subdivision 2, Lincoln Co., TN
[28100]
[S9934]
1880 Census, District 10, McNairy Co., TN
[28101]
[S5882]
Vinson/Robbins Family Tree on Ancestry.com
[106402]
[S9936]
http://www.ericjames.org/html/fam/fam34955.htm
__
|
_Hugh MCCONNELL _____|
| (1810 - ....) |
| |__
|
|
|--John MCCONNELL
| (1842 - ....)
| __
| |
|_Rebecca _____ ______|
(1820 - ....) |
|__
[74884]
[S9494]
1850 Census, Moyamensing Ward 1, Philadelphia Co., PA
[74885]
[S9494]
1850 Census, Moyamensing Ward 1, Philadelphia Co., PA
_____________________
|
_John M. MCCONNELL __|
| (1798 - ....) m 1816|
| |_____________________
|
|
|--Mary MCCONNELL
| (1837 - ....)
| _John BARBER ________
| | (1768 - 1843) m 1791
|_Jane BARBER ________|
(1794 - 1859) m 1816|
|_Jane ELLIOTT _______
(1765 - 1840) m 1791
[55283]
[S6151]
1850 Census, Washington Twp, Westmoreland Co., PA
[55284]
[S6151]
1850 Census, Washington Twp, Westmoreland Co., PA
[37310]
SPOKES, SPURS AND COCKLEBURRS, page 108 & 109 article by Zoyd L Money.
UNFORGETTABLE MEMORIES; AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF ZOYD L MONEY
I appeared on April 19, 1890, my only brother was born in 1881. My few old
freinds, as well as my family, will say, he was raised in Fort Recovery, OH, a
small town near the headwaters of the Wabash River, where most of Saint Clair's
Army was massacred in 1791, and the Fort reestablished by Gen Wayne in 1794.
Mother died when I was five years old. So all I know about her was what Flora
Flaler told me in later years. Flora kept house and looked after me for nine
years. The going wage at that time was $1.50 per week.
When I was abt 10, Dad bought me a violin, second handed. It was not in a case
but in a sack. When I was 14 Dad thought I should start learning a trade. He
arranged for me to start as a printer's devil in the Fort Recovery Journal
office. I worked after school and on Saturdays.
While I was in high school in 1907, father died at the age of 51 from
appendicitis
All this time I was playing drims in three different organizations and flute
in the Christian Church orchestra. I would ride from one place to another on a
bicycle and carry all the drums with me.
All through school we had music teachers who gave me a good foundation in
music. While in high school, I had my first adventure in business, I ran a
small roller skating rink. Here I did some exhibition skating.
Graduation night was a sad affair because I would be leaving the next morning
at 5:00 AM to join a small road show, the Jood and Wright Musical Show, working
as a drummer. In the spring I applied for for a job with the Downie and
Wheeler circus, a railroad show. I learned two things while trooping - how to
economize in space and to always keep an appointment on time. They have stayed
with me through life.
The season was spent in New York, Maryland, and all the New England states.
In the middle of the next season I received a letter from my brother asking me
to go to Montana with him, thinking that might be a good place to go for the
job printing business. If I agreed, I was to meet in Omaha. I headed west on
the 11th of September, 1911.
From Omaha, my brother and I took a train for Belt, Montana, where we had a
friend living. We soon learned there was little chance there to make a go of
what we had in mind. Instead, we decided to take up a homestead. It sounded
wonderful - 320 acres, all free. All you had to to was build a shack and live
in it for a few months out of the year and plow a few acres each year. In
three years it was yours. It sounded fantastic. We both filed on a claim. I
worked in a general store for two months. The rest of the winter we both
worked with a surveying crew surveying a new line for the Milwakee railroad.
We camped fifteen miles from Belt and lived in tents all winter. There were 15
in the crew and we had a good time. I did not get away from playing. I made a
set of marimbas out of tin cans, played them, and the boys would sing. One of
the most popular songs was "Alexander's Ragtime Band."
In the spring we bought a team of horses, one fast and one slow; a wagon, a
tent, sheepherder's stove, a few cooking utensils and a few provisions and
started for the homestead fifty miles from Belt. We ran into mud and as we had
to go over a mountain pass we got stuck in snow drifts. One place we, or I
should say I, drove into a swanp and had to unload everything and carry it out,
uncouple the wagon and pull it out in two halves. It took four days to make the
trip. We slept in a vacant shack one night which was full of pack rats. They
did everything but chew on us. Our destination was 35 miles from the nearest
railroad station, Fort Benton.
The first order of things was to build two shacks. But the joker was, we were
almost out of money. I had never been to Benton, and those 35 miles were the
longest I have ever traveled. It always took three days to make the trip.
I had no trouble getting credit for the winter. One of the trips took five
days. On that trip I had a long swamp to cross. I had to carry the lumber
across piece by piece, pull the empty wagon across and reload it. I carried a
bed roll and would sleep under the wagon and cook over a camp fire. I enjoyed
it, for time did not mean anything.
This was the spring of 1912 and all we did that year was build the shacks and
raise a wonderful garden. We had a small basement to store the vegetables, and
we lived high.
We were not the only greenhorns in the country. There were bankers,
pharmacists, hotel men, jewelers, school teachers, and to my surprise, some
very fine musicians. We soon had an orchestra together, playing for dances all
over the country. We had a pianist who had graduated from the Boston
Conservatory of Music, a wonderful musician, also a good harpist. However, the
majority of the homesteaders were eastern farmers, with a few from Washington.
We hauled our drinking water miles on a sort of sled called a, Stone Boat. We
used the water sparingly.
Durning this time I would throw my drums in the wagon and take off to play for
a dance. One of the musicians built a dance hall called Howell's Hall, 9 miles
from home. We played there nearly every week. There was very little cash in
the country and if we got three or four dollars we were very happy. At the
same time, three dollars bought a lot of beans in those days.
We had very little mail, and usually walked six miles to get it. On my way
home with the mail I would carry all the wood that I could. There was no
timber near the homestead but a few pieces would wash down in a small stream
from the mountains durning flood stage. The creek only ran during the spring,
a cloudburst or a chinook in the winter. (a chinook, happens when there is a
rapid rise in tempature, in the winter, causing the snow and ice to melt
rapidly causing a flood) At times we had 30 degrees below zero weather in the
winter months and a few hours later it would be warm and the water would be
running everywhere. Sometimes when this happened the creek would be a half
mile wide. Chinook winds are caused by descending wind coming down from the
mountains. It compresses the atmosphere, causing the heat. We could see warm
clouds coming and the steam rising over the mountains twelve hours before it
reached us. The clouds travel about four miles per hour slicing off the cold
atmosphere as it goes. These warm spells in the mid-winter often lasted long
enough for wild flowers to bloom. That is the reason we had very few trees.
They would bud out in the winter and then freeze.
I did a lot of walking the first summer. I walked to Benton, 35 miles away,
twice, just to play in the State Militia Band. Often I would sit down for a
few minutes to meditate, and my mind would nearly always go back into the past.
I would wonder what was going on in the big top that day. I could almost see
the steam coming out of the Calliope and hear it playing, "Casey Jones" and
"Every Little Moment Has a Meaning of Its Own".
The population was mostly single men at that time. There were a few families
and the single men always arranged to get to their place about meal time,
although some of the bachelors were tops when it came to baking biscuits.
There was a sheep ranch close by where we lived. The herder would quite often
give us some mutton. I suppose this was to pay for the grass they grazed off
our land. At that time we had no use for it. We could also have antelope, duck,
geese, and rabbits any time we wanted them.
In the spring of 1913 we bought two more small horses, a plow, disc and
harrow. We bought the machinery on time and we were ready to start operations.
We broke 20 acres on each place which was the required amount.
It was interesting to watch the building of the railroad, but still more
thrilling to see a town spring up on the praire four miles from our land. It
was called Geraldine and was named for Geraldine Rockefeller. I was at the
town site when the first business place came in. Before the rails were laid,
building material was freighted over land from Fort Benton thirty miles
distant. In came a wagon loaded to capacity. Up went a tent 20 feet square, in
a couple of hours a counter and there before your eyes was a saloon. I didn't
know anything about the hard liquor but the beer was warm with no ice to cool
it.
The same week as the saloon was built a two story frame building was started.
It was the wholesale liquor store. Then came a general store. Three months
later came the newspaper, a weekly paper called the Geraldine Review. George
Shawler started the paper, with a few cases of type and a Washington Hand
Press. George was a printer who never needed a dictionary. He always had
followed the frontier towns and had worked on the Toledo New Bee when it
printed its first issue. He was a proof reader on many leading papers in the
United States. My Brother used to go into town to help him set the type. The
paper had three different owners but only one week's issue failed to appear.
It happened like this. Rome King, who came from Massachusetts and was a
homesteader and sheepherder, had been a telegraph operator for the Great
Northern Railroad at Fort Benton. When they installed the telephone system he
would not use it and just walked out. It was below his dignity to use it. One
day he was going to help my brother print the paper. Going to press, Rome's
foot slipped and his foot went through the form.
A school teacher had the homestead adjoining ours. I plowed his required
amount of land for $4.00 per acre.
One of the two new horses made a very good saddle horse so we had one to ride.
We called him Pete. He was very fast and I won many a horse race with him.
These races were usually held on a Sunday on some praire trail. If we did not
mark the calendar we never knew when Sunday came. One day I met a sheepherder
and mentioned that tomorrow would be Easter Sunday. He said no, it was
yesterday. We were both wrong as it was that day.
By 1914 there was a business of every kind in Geraldine and a population of
300. We raised some flax this year and grain for the horses. The horses grazed
the year around and when we worked them they would graze at night. It took
little feed, but sometimes we would have to walk 4 miles to get them in. If you
could catch one, you rode home, otherwise you walked. Years later we kept up a
saddle horse.
Just before Christmas 1914 two bachelors and myself, all playing in the same
orchestra, made a trip east; one to Hawarden, iowa, one to Princeton, Illinois,
and myself to Fort Recovery, Ohio. None of us knew just what was going to
happen but in the spring we all came home with a bride, mine Floss Gagle.
My wife had been teaching school but gave that up, and we were married on
March 7th. It was our correspondence which had kept us together. She had a
pioneering spirit the same as I because I never once heard her complain.
Leaving her folks was a sad farewell but after we boarded the train and were on
our way we were very happy. We did not have a first class ticket but tourist
accommodations were very good. There were a lot of fine people in the coach
going west to make a new home the same as we were. We had a box of homemade
candy, plenty of fried chicken and everything that went with it. I would like
to make another trip just like it.
From Lewistown, Montana, to home the first trains were running on a new line,
freight with one passenger coach. to arrive at our destination we passed
through a very rough country, solid black shale with no vegetation at all. My
bride just sat there looking out the wi8ndow, without saying a word. Finally
she said, "Does the homestead look like this?"
My brother had borrowed a spring wagon from a neighbor to meet us at the
station. On the way to the farm, every time we would meet another team the
horses would stop. I explained to her that they expected us to stop, say hello,
and talk a few minutes. Because I played for dances, everyone within twenty
miles knew me.
The grapevine news traveled fast and in a few days they had the charevari.
The shack was packed with friends. Those who could not sit on the bed had to
sit on the floor. At a dance later, Ben LaVanway told my wife that he had been
at the chivaree. She said "I am sure I did not see you." "Oh," he said, "I was
sitting under the table."
I had ordered a bed, dresser, stove and rug from Sears Roebuck so it had been
shipped out in advance. Up to that time we had our beds in the straw. But with
all this happening, my brother had to move down to his shack and we had to move
out the shovels, garden tools and the like. I didn't know why my wife did not
want them in the house. My brother's shack was about a mile from ours but he
spent most of his leisure time at our place. He never married.
My wife and I made several trips to the mountains, 15 miles away, in a wagon
to camp and fish.
1915 was a big crop year. We had enough horses to run two outfits and were
only five miles from a market. Some of the larger farmers bought large gas
tractors and would come in to town pulling five and six wagons loaded with
wheat. It was not like it is today, cropping the land every other year, and
raising one crop with two years's moisture. Instead, all land was cropped
every year. We had abnormal rainfall and more acreage, and a tremendous amount
of grain was raised.
The early tractors broke nearly every one who had them. We bought a new buggy
and a nice driving horse, of which we were very proud. Those living a long way
from town had started to buy cars. A Model T Ford cost about $600. There were
losts of Overlands sold. We did not have a car until 1927 and then bought a
Ford coach.
Most of the homesteaders had proven up and mortgaged their farms to Eastern
investors to buy cars, machinery and to improve their homes. It was not long
until the money had vanished. Only a very small percentage of this was ever
paid back.
1916 was another good crop year. Everybody was in good spirits and had the
idea that it would always be that way. The highlight of this year was when our
first son, Jack, was born, December 30. We opened up the trunk and the top tray
made a fine bed for him.
1917 was just a fair crop year. My wife's sister, Dora, came out that year and
found employment in a Geraldine store. We needed a new house, and not being
able to get carpenters, I built it myself. When it was finished we had one of
the nicest homes of that time. We bought new furniture and spent most of the
summer fixing it up.
Since we had a baby now we had to buy a cow, and I had one heck of a time
learning to milk.
Year by year we got less moisture. In 1919 we sold $65 Worth of cream and two
horse hides from horses which had died and that was our total income. In the
middle of the summer when it was the hottest and driest time, we had a
daughter, Betty. I have had no trouble keeping track of her birth date because
it was the worst year we had. We had to have county and federal loans to buy
feed and seed. Seed wheat the next spring sold for $4.00 per bushel.
It was still dry in 1920. That fall I went with a stock train to Chicago. On
these stock shipments a pass was issued, for two cars of cattle. On the main
line at Harlowton they put on a passenger coach. There was always about 15
people with the cattle. It was a very interesting trip. Everyone had a big box
of eats and we also had a stove to cook on. We made beds out of the seats. Some
played cards for fun, some played poker and there was a lot of singing. It took
six days to make the trip and it was lots of fun. but when we arrived in
Chicago we did not need sleeping pills to put us to sleep.
We raised some turkeys that year so my wife stayed on the ranch until they
were marketed. Then she and the children followed me up and spent the winter
with her folks while I worked in a General Motors plant in Muncie, Indiana. I
was glad when spring came. I had been in the wide open spaces too long, to like
it there.
In 1921 we put in more time with the turkeys and gradually built up a good
business and were one of the leading turkey raisers in the northwest. We
specialized in breeding stock. they sold for $25 to $50 each. The higher priced
ones were winners at leading poultry shows, we would take in as high as $3,000
a year. With this income we were keeping our heads above water. We sold turkey
eggs at $2.50 each.
That winter my wife's father and mother paid us a long visit. Her father
brought enough clothes to go to the North Pole. To his surprise, most of the
winter was shirt sleeve weather. The first morning he was there he looked at
Square Butte, a beautiful mountain over 5,000 feet in elevation and made the
remark that he would like to walk to the foot of it before breakfast. It
appeared to him to be about a mile but actually it was seven miles. It stood
out by itself on the east end of the Highwood range. In clear weather it could
be seen 50 miles away.
By 1922 a great many homesteaders were leaving the country. Very few went
east, most of them traveled on west. In the next three years Chouteau Co lost
one third of its population.
1923 was a good year and gave us something to hang on with. The main reason I
stayed on was to see just how tough it could get.
1924 was average, and starting with 1925 we had six good crops in succession.
In 1927 my brother died and I was now the last one in my family. He got caught
in a storm and was frozen so badly that he never recovered. This grieved us
very much. He and another bachelor, Dan Hicks, one of the best friends I ever
had, had spent most of their evenings in our home. My brother was very good
with children. He always had time to entertain them and they spent a lot of
time with him. One day at dusk when Jack was four years old he ran away and
headed for my brother's cabin. We just saw a red stocking cap going over the
hill when we caught him.
In 1930 we had another son, Zoyd Lee. We were very happy as the other
children, Jack and Betty were 14 and 11. The children attended school a mile
and a half from home. In nice weather they would go on horseback. In the winter
I would take them. Sometimes when there was snow on the ground I would go with
them on skis. We did not go on our own power. We had a horse in the lead, then
myself, Jack hanging on to me and Betty on the tail end. Often one of us would
get the skis tangled up and we would all pile up in a snow drift. It was great
sport for the kids and the more trouble we had the more sport they had.
Sometimes I did not think too much of it.
In 1931 my beloved wife died leaving me with the three children. It took years
for this wound to heal. Like my father, I was a one woman man and never cared
to marry again. I was thankful to have the children and very fortunate to have
her sister, Dora Larsen, who had married after coming to Montana but was now a
widow with one son. She took over the children during the school term in
Geraldine. She did this and operated a beauty parlor at the same time which
kept her mighty busy, especially having a child only a year old to care for.
The other children and I would batch on the ranch during vacation. They enjoyed
themselves most of the time. We always had an ice house so they woud make a lot
of root beer and keep it in there, and in hot weather they would freeze a
gallon of ice cream every day.
Jack was a great help. When he was nine years old he could drive a Model T
Pickup and a Fordson tractor, and Betty was quite a little housekeeper. For two
years before they went to town to live he and Betty drove the Model T pickup to
school. It had no cab and you would expect Betty to fly out any minute. They
always said they drove slowly, but that was not the report I got from
neighbors. Sometimes I wonder how any of the kids live to maturity.
I had a couple of good crops in the 1930's. Prices were very low. Wheat sold
as low as 27 cents per bushel. I burnt 500 bushels in the heating stove. It was
cheaper than buying coal. Most of the small farmers were either on WPA or
getting help elsewhere. Larger operators had enough allotment under the AAA
system to help them through this period. Mostly everyone recieved this help
directly or indirectly.
We had feed and seed loans. One seed loan of $100 which I paid several years
later, had $105 interest attached. I know that 90 percent of all the loans were
paid off in time. The AAA practically forced the farmers to strip their land
and go entirely on summer fallow basis, cropping the strips every year. That
and other factors, was the turning point in agriculture for Montana. The other
factors were:Farms which others had left could be rented or bought cheaply,
proper machinery could be used to do all the work on time at a minimum cost,
and higher prices for grain. Another big factor was chemical weed spraying.
My youngest son, Zoyd Lee, died with sleeping sickness in 1940. He was only
ill a week. It was terrible, but to keep going one has to think of the millions
of people who are in worse shape than you are.
My nephew, James Larsen, has always been with me in operating the ranch. When
he came out of the service he wanted to farm so I told him to take over. He is
married now and has a fine family, two girls and one boy.
I have made my home with my sister-in-law for several years here in Geraldine.
Whenever I go to the ranch I cannot help but think of the good times spent
there with my family. Looking at the artesian well and the water flowing from
it, I think of the years I hauled water six miles with a team and wagon.
Looking at the electric lights, I think how we got along with the oil lamps and
how much trouble we had with the gas lamps when we first got them. The ranch
slso has a deep freeze and refrigerator, every convenience there is in the
city. Above all, I wonder how we got along without a bathroom in cold weather.
My nephew, James Larsen and myself, own 720 acres and lease 900 - 760 acres
farm land and the balance grazing. We run 75 head of cattle. For this part of
Montana we operate on a small scale. But there are big little farmers and
little big ones.
My hobby is still music. Going back to father I can remember him saying that
the majority of people were successful in life but not based on money value.
But to be successful in business it took the right man in the right place at the
right time.
Note: David Jackson Money, 56, died in Lewistown, March, 1973. Jack was the
oldest son of Zoyd Money. He was married to Myrtle Bailey December 2, 1940. Mr.
Money's daughter, Betty Chamberlain, lives at Spokane. He has six grandchildren
and five great grandchildren.
Funeral Service:
The music, by Kim Owen SOLO - "How Great Thou Art"
David Chamberlain Officiating. (David is a grandson of Zoyd's).
[89410]
[S11389]
1880 Census, Zanesville, Muskingum Co., OH
[89411]
[S11389]
1880 Census, Zanesville, Muskingum Co., OH