#historicalresearch

ATLANTA, GEORGIA 1864

This picture intrigued me more than anything. It is Atlanta, Georgia 1864. Today Atlanta is a raving metropolis. ‘Twas not so in the past. It took time to build up to its present status.

The Indian lotteries did not take place until the 1830s. All of western Georgia from the northern border into the southern border all belonged to the Creek Indian Nation. Creek lands were given up to the Federal Government by consensual treaty.

Then the lands were opened up by lottery in the following manner; everyone would gather at the County Courthouse and everyone who was interested in obtaining land in the west would put their name in the Top Hat of the clerk. The clerk would then draw the names that would win the land lottery.

My fourth great grandparents won land in Stewart County, Georgia and moved there in 1832 when it was simply raw frontier. In fact, Georgia was the only location in the western region when the land belonged to the Creek Indians where an individual who was not Indian had to have a passport to cross into Alabama, Louisiana, Mississippi, Texas, etc.

I TOO AM A GREAT GRANDAUGGTER OF MARK PRICE DAVIS:

It has been 2 ½ years since my precious grandmother passed away, transitioning to the other side, and receive her glory in heaven, where she feels pain no more, and is reunited with her beloved husband, parents, and family. Oh how I miss her so.

Once again I was sorting through her folders and I came across an absolutely incredible set of papers-handwritten no less. It was a copy of Mark Price Davis’ Will (1829). Mark Price Davis was my 5th great grandfather, father of Rebecca and Martha, the sisters discussed in the previous stories: “The Letter, 1862” and “The Mystery of the Smith Graveyard.”

Although the Will was incredible, it was the gem at the bottom of paper that took my breath away. It stated:

“Copied August 16th, 1963… by Emma Barrett Reeves, a great granddaughter of Mark Price Davis, thru his daughter Martha Christian Davis, who m Geo Blakey Smith.”

The next line said, “I too am a great granddaughter - by daughter Rebecca Myers Farmer Lyon,” signed Dollie Myra Lyon Echols.

Reading further on, the document stated, “I too am a great great granddaughter - thru the line of Edward Lyon & Rebecca Price Davis,” signed Mary Effie Pinkston Rainford.

When I read these beautiful women’s names and realized I was looking at the signatures of my 5th great auntie’s (Martha) granddaughter, my great grandmother Mary Effie and her “mother,” Dolly Echols, all added to Mark’s Will, wanting to be accounted for and remembered by anyone that came along and found the document in future generations…I was overcome with emotion trying to comprehend all that I was feeling. I had an overwhelming need to add my name to that list of great women.

“NOT JUST ANY NATURALIZATION RECORD”

When most folks discuss Naturalization and Immigration Records and Declarations of Intent, they are generally talking about their grandparents or their great grandparents that entered the United States of America sometime around the Victorian Age or turn of the century from the 1800s to the 1900s, going through Ellis Island. In fact, Naturalization and Citizenships commenced in 1790, but we’re very spotty and scarce throughout the United States. Some states picked up on Naturalizations and Declarations of Intent in the mid-1800s around 1850-ish and thereafter, but everyone came onboard by 1906 when the Naturalization Records and Declarations of Intent became significantly more detailed.

Imagine my utter shock and amazement when I found this Naturalization Record for Leonard Dozier granted in “1683/4 in The Colony of Virginia" under the Sovereign of Lord King Charles.

I thought, “Why would someone need to be Naturalized in that timeframe?” And then I realized, that everyone who was a citizen of the Colony of Virginia was from England. I realized also that Leonard Dozier was from France. (“Dozier” is of French origin.) He was not an English citizen, born under the crown, with English birth rights.

My next thought was, “Why did Leonard Dozier leave France? What was going on that compelled him to leave during such a dangerous and early time and associate himself among the English in a raw new world?”

That is when I realized that he must have been Protestant, which his Naturalization Record proved. He was fleeing from religious persecution. In fact, the Edict of Fontainebleau was brewing on the forthcoming horizon and took place in 1685 shortly after Leonard Dozier fled with his life to the New World. Obviously the persecution against the Protestants had picked up significantly in order to force Leonard Dozier to make such a decision. (The Edict of Fontainebleau was a revocation of the Edit of Nantes.)

During this time, a Frenchman’s land, occupation, and life, could be swept away as easily as tree branches sway in a breeze.

Obviously Leonard Dozier was supposed to be protected under the Edict of Nantes, as was his father, where a Frenchman’s religious choice to be either Protestant or Catholic was his choice and he would receive respect. Louis XIV revoked the Edict of Nantes and all Frenchmen were forced to be Catholic or killed. If they wanted to remain Protestant they fled with their lives and were expelled from France, their lifelong ancestral homeland.

Hence, Leonard Dozier found his way to America to the Colony of Virginia in the mid 1600s and was granted Naturalization and his Citizenship: “…I do hereby fully and completely naturalize him the said Leonard Dozier Giving and granting unto him and his heirs forever all and singular his privileges immunities and rights of the inhabitants of this Colony of Virginia and that as fully and amply to all intents and purposes whatsoever as if the said Leonard Dozier had been borne within his Majesty’s Dominions and as any other his Majesty’s naturall borne subjects whatsoever have ought or doe in any sort enjoy any former Law, act, usage or custome to the contrary notwithstanding…”

Leonard Dozier came to Virginia, purchased land and built a beautiful plantation home, found peace and comfort with the ability to practice his religion and freedoms thereof, and lived a rich full life unmolested. He had a large family which inherited his Estate, and multiplied itself within time and became well off never to be hungry again, afraid for their lives, or worried their lands and properties would be confiscated just because…

“DEATH BY TEETHING”

I found David Spears on the mortality schedule passing away March 1870, Texas, at 39 years old. What I did not know was that he had an eight-month-old baby boy that was his namesake. Baby David passed away in the same month, March 1870, and was listed right below him by “ditto marks.” The odd thing about the baby was he passed away from “teething.”

Thus far, in my many years of research, I had never seen “teething” listed as a cause of death before. I researched this death-cause and learned that “teething” was listed for any number of unexplained baby deaths when the doctor really did not know what caused the baby death. Today such deaths are referred to as Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS).

The Mystery of the Smith Graveyard (Part 2 of a 2 Part Story-continuation of The Letter, 1862)

Ever since I found Rebecca Myers Price Davis in my genealogy as a teenager, I have felt an instant bond with her. She died in childbirth with my 3rd great grandfather, Nathan Edward Rebecca Lyon IV. Her father, Mark Price Davis (my 5th great grandfather), had left clues in all of his children’s middle names, I believe to help me find the extended line of Mark. Consequently, all the girls have strange middle names such as Christian, Davis, Myers, Russell, Capers, etc. When Rebecca died while giving birth to her little son, my 4th great grandfather, whose name was Nathan Edward Lyon III, decided to name their son after his beloved wife that died while giving him life. As one can imagine, no one ever teased Nathan Edward Rebecca Lyon IV about his middle name because they wouldn’t be able to talk for a week-their mouth would hurt so bad from Nathan setting things straight!

I had always wanted to find the grave of Rebecca and pay my respects. Over 40 years later I finally found a clue on the Internet leading to the whereabouts of Rebecca’s grave. Someone graciously had posted a photocopy of a photograph that appeared to me to be taken in the 1970s. Imagine some obscure person, a descendent of Rebecca, going to the Xerox shop and placing the photograph on the copy machine photocopying this photograph, all of the JPEG’s of the gravestone spread far apart. They wrote on the bottom of the paper for their citation, which was common in that day and age, “Smith or Stony Creek Cem Washington, Ga.” Here I had a very poor copy of Rebecca’s grave (and absolutely thrilled to have found that) and an obscure location: either the “Smith’s Cemetery or Stony Creek Cemetery in Washington, Georgia.”

I started searching the Internet for Smith Cemeteries. There were too many to number. I then started searching for Stony Creek Cemeteries. There were no cemeteries by the name of Stony Creek in Georgia. So: scratch that out. I went back to searching Smith Cemeteries. I decided to utilize findagrave.com. As all know who use that site, it’s not complete yet as it is still a work in progress. It is an excellent site. When a find is discovered it is outstanding because it typically provides Primary Source Documentation. I narrowed the search down by searching Wilkes County for Smith Cemeteries also checking once again for Stony Creek (which there were none). There were three Smith Cemeteries in Wilkes County and I scoured all of them.

The first two Smith Cemeteries were loaded with Smith’s but none of my family or people that I recognized. Recall from the post before, The Letter 1862 (part 1 of 2 part story), we now know that I am distantly related to a Smith by my auntie (Rebecca’s sister, Martha, married a man named George Smith). I finally researched the third cemetery. It was called the Smith Cemetery or Smith Family Cemetery and findagrave.com stated the cemetery was 100% recorded and photographed. When I clicked on the cemetery to open the data it listed only one grave. As far as research goes, if there is even one grave it is considered a cemetery no matter how small or big. This was the case with this Smith cemetery. There was only one grave. The exciting thing about this was the stone that was in the cemetery belong to a George Smith Sr.

When I had found the cemetery before it did not register anything to me and I did not look at it because George Smith did not mean anything to me. However, since I found the Civil War letter I now knew that Rebecca’s brother-in-law was named George Smith. I clicked on the headstone to see the photograph of it and to learn if there was anything written in the blog space on the findagrave website about this George Smith. Lo and behold I learned that it was George Smith Sr., father of George Smith Jr., and he had several wives. The second wife was named Sarah Blakey. The exciting thing was, when I found Martha’s husband George Smith and researched the family to learn how they were related, I discovered George’s middle name was Blakey. His name therefore was George Blakey Smith. This man on the stone was George Smith and he had a “Senior” after his name and his second wife’s name was Sarah Blakey! They had to be the parents of George Blakey Smith, which we now know was a “Junior.” Upon further study, I learned that indeed George Blakey Smith Jr. was listed as one of the children of George Smith Sr. and his second wife, and the name Martha Christian Price Davis’s name attached to him. The evidence was all in one place and located on a gravestone. One cannot argue with that!

What was perplexing was the fact that there was only one grave listed in the cemetery on findagrave. This cemetery was called the Smith’s Cemetery. It was located in Washington, Wilkes County, Georgia. According to findagrave there were no other Smith Cemeteries in Wilkes County. According to the website for Wilkes County, Georgia the Historical Society, there were no other Smith Cemeteries in Washington either.

It was time for a field trip! I told this fabulous story animatedly to my three grandchildren that I was spending time with, the twins and Jane, and asked them if they would like to go on a field trip hunting for a grave of their sixth great grandmother (my fourth great). I showed them the Xeroxed copy of the gravestone. They thought that was really neat and excitedly conveyed they wanted to go on an adventure and find Rebecca’s grave with me.

Early Saturday morning we left for our adventure. We drove out to the country to Wilkes County, Georgia, searching for the Smith Cemetery that housed the grave of George Smith Sr. and hoping that finadagrave might be wrong and Rebecca’s grave would be there too. I plugged the coordinates into my GPS. It took us about 3 ½ hours to get there.

When we approached the intersection consisting of two paved roads, there was absolutely nothing in that area. On the right-hand side of the road was a farmer’s field. In front of us and to our left and across the road there were only a bunch of thick woods. As we sat at the stop sign at the intersection, I noticed the names of the two roads. The road we were on was called Goldmine Road. The crossroad was called Stony Ridge Road. I could not believe it! Remember on the Xeroxed photo of Rebecca’s grave the notation was given that she was buried in either the “Smith Cemetery or the Stony Creek Cemetery” as they were not sure what it was called. And here we sat at a crossroads that was called Stony Ridge Road! We had to be close. My blood started racing and my heart started pounding. The children were totally engaged and were looking out the window trying to see grandmother Rebecca’s grave. None of us could see it. I turned right on Stony Ridge Road and told the children that we were going to stop at the first house we came to and ask questions.

Pass the field and around the curve was an old bungalow-style home on the right-hand side. We pulled into the driveway only to be greeted by a pack of dogs. Of course I did not get out of the car, instead I honked the horn and honked the horn until someone came out of the house to see what I wanted. And elderly gentleman came up to the car with his dogs and I roll down my window and explained that I was trying to find my fourth great grandmother’s grave, Rebecca Myers Price Davis and she was buried in either the Smith’s Cemetery or the Stony Creek Cemetery and I asked him if he happen to know where the cemetery was. He said as a matter of fact, he did know where it was and wanted to know if I wanted him to show me. I was so excited and said, “Absolutely.”

He jumped on his four-wheeler and I followed him in the car back up to that farmer’s field that was on the right-hand side of the crossroads. He pointed to the middle of the field and said that was the cemetery. All I could see was a bunch of woods. And then like a three-dimensional picture slowly coming into focus (like finding Waldo), a closer set of woods started to separate their selves in my eyesight and I could see that they had been camouflaged by the back-set of woods and looked to be one.

We all got out of the car and the kids started running through the fields as I walked along with the gentleman, Mr. Bill. Mr. Bill told me a very sad story about cemetery. He gave me the historical backdrop of who owned the land from the past and told me how he moved into the old bungalow with his folks in the early 1950s. The farmer’s field had been lost in a gambling game of cards in a bet and then sold later on after that and then again later on. The current owners had decided to plant their crops and started to bulldoze the headstones and graveyard. When Mrs. Brown, (an elderly lady who loved the folk in that cemetery and had appointed herself as caretaker), was so upset that she took the new owners to Court. I asked if she was kin to folks buried in the cemetery and Mr. Bill told me no. He said that she knew the folks very well had always taken care of the cemetery. Mrs. Brown won the Court case and the Judge ordered the owners and Construction Company to repair the cemetery and put up a chain-link fence around it. Unfortunately there was well over 25-50 unmarked graves that ended up outside the chain-link fence that to this day the owners plow over and plant their crop on top of. I actually stood in that area and could see the crop growing over these sacred unmarked graves.

By and by Mrs. Brown passed away and there was no one left to take care of the cemetery and it became a non perpetual cemetery. The cemetery was so overgrown with briars and weeds it was absolutely incredible and virtually unpassable. Mr. Bill had to use a lot of strength to get the gate open through the overgrown weeds that had grown intermittently through the chain-link. The briars were like spiderwebs growing in between the trees in the air and attaching their selves to all of the trees and branches creating stickers worse than boysenberry thorns. We had to whack down these sticker-webs so we didn’t scratch our faces and arms. My little grandsons totally got into the experience as well as my granddaughter, and they kept stomping down weeds and things so I could step over dead branches and limbs and weeds and be able to get through.

The first grave we came to was of course, George Smith Sr.’s headstone. This headstone was a more modern monument that was obviously placed there by his posterity in the last twenty or thirty years. It did indeed list George Smith Jr., the gentleman who’s Civil War letter I had found written in 1862 about his sons Thomas and James, and also listed my 4th great grandmother’s sister, Martha Christian Price Davis.

I knew I was in the right place. As I stood there looking at George’s grave I could see through the briars and weeds that there were more stones and realized real quick that the information on findagrave was INCORRECT-there was not just one stone in the cemetery but multiple stones, and the cemetery was NOT 100% photographed. In fact the next stone I found, I could not believe my eyes, was another sister of my 4th great grandmother. Her name was Jane Capers Price Davis. (Miss Jane married a Rorie and Rories are also laid to rest in this cemetery.) As I said before Mark, their father, had left clues for me in all of his children’s middle names, I couldn’t miss it. I was thrilled with this find!

I took a moment to stand there to let my eyes adjust to the darkness of all of the thick woods in this small cemetery and realized that George Smith Jr.’s son Thomas, the young man that died in the Civil War at the tender age of 19 years old, was also buried in this cemetery. Recall how I found the Civil War letter and was so touched to the very depths of my heart and soul by this family, and now in real life I was standing in the cemetery where their heartache took place over 155 years earlier. I took a moment in silence to pray for the souls of people that I had grown to love in such a short time.

Through all of the briars and thickets and weeds we found stones and small unmarked stones that represented babies, oh so many babies that died, so many babies were buried in this little cemetery-heartbreaking. Once again the heartache was poignant that had been felt by this early ancient family. I was beginning to wonder if I would find Rebecca’s grave and what happened to her headstone that was in the old fifty year old Xeroxed photograph, when the little boys called out, “Grammie Lynch, Grammie Lynch she’s over here, she’s over here! We found our grandmother Rebecca!” They were so excited.

I ran as fast as I could through the briars, stickers, and weeds with Little Miss Jane trying to help me along. I finally saw my 4th great grandmother’s gravestone, Rebecca Myers Price Davis. To my surprise and amazement, listed on the stone was a first husband that I was unaware of. The second husband on the stone was listed as well, my 4th great grandfather Nathan Edward Lyon lll. Of course, since then I researched Rebecca and her first husband, Uriah Farmer, and discovered they had five children together before he passed away. After that Rebecca married my 4th great-grandfather Nathan and gave birth to Nathan Edward Rebecca Lyon IV, and she died in childbirth at the young tender age of 33 years old. I was shocked and amazed to learn that Nathan Edward Lyon lll died one year later.

Who raised Nathan Edward Rebecca Lion lV? What happened to Rebeccas other children from her first marriage? These are still questions I need to research out and learn the answers. I had learned about Rebecca over 40 years ago and I had always felt bonded and close to her for some reason and finally after all of this time I was able to find her final resting place, her headstone broken off at the quick laying buried below briars, stickers and weeds in an overgrown non perpetual cemetery, still residing in the middle of a farmer’s field, the cemetery preserved because of the fight of one Mrs. Brown.

Mr. Bill looked at me and said, “Miss Julie, I am so glad that you came to pay your respects to your grandmother and aunties. It has been so long since these folks have had visitors. It is so important that they are not forgotten.”

I looked at Mr. Bill as tears rolled down my face my heart so full of love and compassion for these ancestors who lived such difficult lives and who knew such heartache, yet pushed forward and persevered to provide a path and way for one day, me to come along and have a life, preserving their memory, strength, and love of God, their blood and DNA which runs in my veins and body today. Yes my heart was full for the sacrifices that were made that somehow blessed my life so many years in the future.

2017 Northern Florida Genealogical Conference:

Recently, I was invited as a Guest Speaker to the Northern Florida Genealogical Conference. As I pondered which specific subject to speak about it came to me to play a game and get everyone involved. I wrote the barest minimum of information that was given to me, on 3 x 5 cards and handed them out and asked the guest to read to me what was on the card as I wrote the information on the board.

One of the cards simply stated, “Joseph Checcia, WWll.”

I looked at the audience and asked, “What do I do? What does this mean? Where are the clues and how would I find this person- ANYTHING about this person- ANYTHING?” (What would you do?)

This is what I learned about Joseph Checcia:

Obviously, he was in World War II. Upon receiving his war records it was discovered that he died a hero!

Their plane was flying over France and it was shot down-yes, the plane was going down! Joseph was the Jumpmaster. He stood in the doorway of the airplane as he helped each of his unit members, each man jump to their safety, and saved their lives. Finally, Joseph was the last one to jump. As he jumped, with the plane rapidly nose down racing to the ground ready to crash, Joseph jumped. He tried to get his chute opened. He did not have time. Each of his comrades and fellow soldiers watched from the ground mortified, somber, as they landed to safety and as the man who save their life met his untimely death.

It was because of Joseph that these men went on to have a life, come home, marry, and have a posterity, of which the daughter of one such man found me, with the simple name of Joseph Checcia, wanting to find out everything about him and his family that she could so that she could preserve his memory for her own posterity as the hero that enabled her father to come home and have a life and a family.

Joseph is what we would call an unsung hero. A simple 22-year-old young man who joined the Army after the bombing of Pearl Harbor at the commencement of World War II, leaving his girlfriend, his mother and father, with a wave and a smile thinking he was going to save the world and then come home and live a happy life. Little did anyone know, let alone him, that he would save an entire unit which in turn saved hundreds of people that were yet unborn, never to return home again.

Knowing that Joseph joined the war in 1941 and realizing that he was more than likely around 20 years old like the rest of the young men who joined the war, I was able to find him on the 1920 Census as a baby and then the 1930 Census as a 10 year old. I was able to find his mother and father and siblings, and also his mother and father’s marriage record, which in turn gave me his mother’s maiden name, and enabled me to find his mother as a child with her parents on the 1910 Census, as well as Joseph’s father with his parents on the 1910 Census and extend that entire family.