Happy Juneteenth: Calling My Ancestors' Names

Do you (or did you) know your great-grandparents? We each have 8 biological great-grandparents; they are our parents' grandparents, and they existed whether we knew them or not. I never had the pleasure of meeting any of mine, but thanks to 31 years of genealogical research, I at least know and can call all of their names - and I can tell you a little something about each of them and their families of origin. Unfortunately, I don't have photos of any of my formerly enslaved ancestors, so I must only imagine what they looked like. However, my research has led me to many documents that allow me to tell parts of my ancestors' stories. This Cohabitation Record for my great-grandparents, Calvin and Precilla Yarborough, was one of the first I found that confirmed their status as persons who had been formerly enslaved.

On this special day - this JUNETEENTH* holiday - I pause to call the names of my known formerly enslaved direct ancestors who were alive to see freedom, in 1865. Three of those were my parents' grandparents, but they were deceased before my parents were born, so they never met them, either. ALL of these Ancestors were of an age to have known their status as enslaved and to have been already providing unpaid labor to their enslavers at the time of Emancipation. Many, as you'll see below, had lived long lives as chattel, and were blessed to live out their final years as free people. Again, these are only my direct ancestors, but of course they had siblings, aunts, uncles, and cousins who shared their status as enslaved, and who may have been able to join the jubilee shout - "We'z FREE now!"

Great-Grandparents:

Calvin Yarborough - 25 years enslaved

Precilla (Shaw) Yarborough - 23 years enslaved

Pinky Tredwell- King Howell - 9 years enslaved

Great-Great-Grandparents:

Louis Neal - 50 years enslaved

Mary Neal - 55 years enslaved

Mack Tredwell - 52 years enslaved

Amy Littlejohn - 50 years enslaved

Lewis Davis -16 years enslaved

Dolly Ann Crutchfield -10 years enslaved

Asa (Asy) Brown - 22 years enslaved

Louvenia Ross Brown -10 years enslaved

Third-Great-Grandparents:

Elsy Littlejohn - 69 years enslaved

Everett Ross - 35 years enslaved

Minervia Dobbins - 35 years enslaved

Fourth-Great-Grandparents:

Essex Ross - 69 years enslaved

Chaney Ross Thornton - 70 years enslaved

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 And, these are the known names of my direct ancestors, who were enslaved, but either didn't live to see "freedom" or whose death date is currently unknown. They are all my third-great-grandparents.

Peter Littlejohn (1782-1855) - husband of Elsy

Lewis - father of Lewis Davis

Lavinia - mother of Lewis Davis

It has become my life's work to research my ancestry and to share what I've learned with my family and with the larger community. I pay homage, every day, to my ancestors - those who were "free" before 1865 and those who were enslaved. Let no one tell you that you can't find your ancestors before 1865 - or before 1870, when formerly enslaved persons appear, by name, on Federal Census records. That's a LIE; and, every name you see above is proof of it! I knew nothing about my ancestry, before I started asking questions and doing the work, in 1993. If you're reading this, and you want to explore your own family history, let this post be incentive to you. There are more resources available to you than ever before, and you can get started with this research right from the comfort of your own home. YOU CAN DO IT! By Juneteenth 2025, you can be calling your own ancestors' names!

Thanks for reading - and happy Juneteenth!                                                                                        Renate

* "Juneteenth," officially Juneteenth National Independence Day, is a federal holiday in the United States. It is celebrated annually on June 19 to commemorate the ending of slavery in the United States. The holiday's name is a portmanteau of the words "June" and "nineteenth," as it was on June 19, 1865, when Major General Gordon Grandger ordered the final enforcement of the Emancipation Proclamation, in Galveston, TX, following the end of the Civil War. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Juneteenth)

Sad, Sad Saturday - Death of Walter Davis

This won't be a long post. Right now, I don't even have enough words to express the jolt of sadness I'm feeling this morning after reading this very descriptive article about the death of my maternal great-grandfather, Walter Davis; but I must honor him right this minute, by sharing (what I know of) his story, here on my blog.

Walter Davis was born July 16, 1875, in Brunswick County, Virginia to parents Lewis Davis and Dolly Ann Crutchfield.
He spent his childhood in Warren County, NC (which is the only place I'd known the family to live until recently discovering his tie to Virginia). In 1895, 20-year-old Walter married Minerva Brown, and by 1900, the couple (still residing in Littleton, Warren County) had given birth to two children, Samuel (1896) and my grandmother, Mary (1897). By 1910 the family was living in Norfolk, Virginia, where Lewis was a Foreman (Coal Trimmer)* at the coal piers, located in the same Lambert's Point section of the city where the family home stands to this day. Sadly, little Samuel is no longer with the family and is presumed to have passed away.

Just about a year ago, I obtained this photo of my great-grandfather, Walter, who I'd never seen a confirmed photo of, before that point.

Walter Davis

I'd been told by my mother and her siblings that their grandfather had died in a tragic accident at the coal piers where he worked, but I never knew the of the gory details that are included in the following article. At the time of this tragedy, my mother would have only been 15 months old. Her brother, Howell, was 3. Their sister, Jane, wasn't yet born. My great-grandparents, my grandparents, and my mother and uncle all shared a home in Lambert's Point, so this loss had to have hit the entire family very hard; although it gives me comfort to know that my great-grandmother, Minerva, was not alone during this horrible time. However, what makes this even more dismal is that, 12 years earlier, my grandmother, Mary, had lost her first husband in just as tragic an accident. at the same location that had now claimed the life of her father. I wrote about that calamity in my post, "Sentimental Sunday - My Grandmother's Loss".

Just looking at Walter Davis in this photo, I sense that he was a hard-working, very determined, and perhaps serious-minded man. I can't help but wonder if there is something more to this story. Didn't he hear the bell ringing? Did he not get off the tracks on purpose for some reason? Could someone have pushed him onto the tracks?

My heart is truly aching this morning after reading this article. (Click to enlarge.)

                     

Update:
Not too long after composing this post, I was able to obtain my great-grandfather's death certificate, on a visit to the Library of Virginia. This document further confirms the family tradition, as well as the newspaper accounts of Walter Davis' very sad, extremely tragic death.

Death Certificate of Walter Davis, stating that he died of "Shock following multiple injuries to whole body" with the contributory source being "Steam Rail Road Accident".

Walter Davis, I say your name. 
May you forever rest in peace.

Your great-granddaughter,

Renate

Thanks for reading.

* A coal trimmer or trimmer is a position within the engineering department of a coal-fired ship which involves all coal handling tasks starting with the loading of coal into the ship and ending with the delivery of the coal to the stoker. 


Sources: 
Coal trimmer definition  (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coal_trimmer)

HOLD FINAL RITES FOR ACCIDENT VICTIM. (1935, Jul 06). New Journal and Guide (1916-2003) Retrieved from https://search.proquest.com/docview/567336517?accountid=44788

Library of Virginia, Accession Number 36390: Walter Davis, Certificate Number 14008, June 28, 1935.

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(Almost) Wordless Wednesday - Ancestor LOVE

On my inaugural visit to Roanoke Chapel Baptist Church Cemetery, I stumbled across this little "message" from my great-great grandfather, Asa Brown, and other ancestral family members whom I'd found buried there.  Needless to say, my heart was warmed in this touching moment.

Renate

Tombstone Tuesday - Perseverance PAYS!

Subtitle: Success in the Cemetery!

I'm posting today to share my excitement about a victory (of sorts) that I've had.  I thought that this was going to be more of a follow-up post, however, upon searching my blog, I've discovered that I never did write about the search for my maternal grandmother's grave marker.

My mother's mother, Mary Thomas, died in 1986.  She was buried in Calvary Cemetery, an historical burial ground in Norfolk, Virginia.  Because I spent the first 14 years of my genealogical journey completely focused on researching my paternal ancestors, it wasn't until just a few years ago, when I turned my attention to my mother's folks, that I decided to head over to Norfolk to visit my grandmother's grave.  Once I did, I was disappointed to discover that the spot where she rested was covered only by green grass, and wasn't marked in any way.

I was 24 years old when my grandmother died, and of course, I attended her funeral.  However, not being a cemetery or genealogy buff at the time, I can't say that I paid any attention to how the grave was marked.  But, what I did know (or at least what I thought) was that my mother and her two siblings would certainly have put some kind of a marker on their mother's grave.  I inquired at the cemetery office, but long story, short, they had no records related to the markers or headstones.  Their records only pertained to the actual burials.

At the advice of the person in the cemetery office, I contacted Hale Funeral Home, to see if they had any records pertaining to my grandmother's burial.  (I called right from the grounds of the cemetery, hoping to just drive right over!)  Unfortunately (and quite sadly), the person I spoke with told me a story of transferred management after family deaths, and records which had actually been THROWN AWAY.  If I recall correctly, all of the pre-1997 records of this funeral home, which has been serving African-Americans in the Tidewater area for 100 years, were destroyed during changes in management.  Needless to say, I was disappointed, and appalled.  Not only were the records of my own ancestors gone - I actually have several who were serviced by this funeral home - but so were those of hundreds of others. 

After this troubling revelation, it seemed that there would be no way for me to prove that there'd once been a marker at my grandmother's gravesite.  My mother told me that my uncle had handled the burial transactions, and when I asked him about it, he said he no longer had any of the paperwork, but reiterated that he "thought" there was "some kind of stone, or something" at the grave.  With nothing else to go on, I just kind of put this to the side, but vowed to one day get to the bottom of it. (No pun intended.) :)

Anyway, life and genealogy went on, and then one day, quite by accident, I ran across this picture, while going through some things at my mother's house:



My nephew, Robert, and my daughter, Natasha, beside the freshly-covered grave of their great-grandmother,
Mary Thomas.

So, there ya go!  You'd better believe I was doing the genealogy happy-dance, for here was all the proof I needed (and more)!  As soon as I saw this picture, I knew for sure that this was my grandmother's burial location, because it was the exact spot on which I'd stood with the cemetery caretaker, but all that was there was grass.  But here were my nephew, age 6, and my daughter, age 4 obviously not too long after my grandmother had been buried.

With this picture in hand, as well as the actual receipt for the 6-vault burial plot that my great-grandmother had purchased in 1935,  I took the 35-minute drive over to Norfolk last Monday, ready for battle.  I called ahead to let them know I was coming, and "Bret", the current manager of the cemetery, after hearing my plight, said he'd pull his records and be ready for me.  Once there, he and another employee in the office were very kind and accommodating towards me, so no fight was necessary. :)  Bret verified the location of my family plot (yes, it's a family plot, but I'll write about that in another post), and printed out a new map for me using their fancy-smancy new program.  Then, off we went, armed with my proof-providing picture to do a "test-dig". 

I couldn't believe how excited I was about this, but I was almost beside myself.  When we got to the plot, I used the picture to help Bret locate the exact spot in which to drive his shovel, and after just a couple of hits in that spot, we heard it - the unmistakable clang of metal against stone.

Bret marks the spot for the dig.

           

And so we began...

As Bret chiseled and dug, I continued to "coach" him, directionally.  After just a few minutes, I had all of the confirmation I needed.

Do you see what I see?




At this point, tears began to well up in my eyes, as I realized that we had, indeed, found my grandmother.  Of course she was there all along, but there was just something about the grave being unmarked that was very unsettling to me.  Now, I knew for sure that we were in the right spot, and presumably my grandma, along with her husband, her parents, and her uncle were all right there where they'd been laid to rest. 

Bret continued his work, commenting to me, "You were exactly right about it.", as he dug, more gently now, around the step.  In reverence to my ancestors, I remained silent, as he uncovered the unmistakable match to my photograph.

And there it is, the THOMAS surname, clear as day.

Just a few minutes after the step was completely revealed, as Bret was explaining to me that it would be raised and reset before the end of the week, a truck drove by with the very men who would be doing it. He summons them to stop, and they came over and heard the whole story.  Everyone involved (including Bret) seemed surprised and baffled that the marker had been allowed to sink like that, since the cemetery is well, and consistently cared for, but what happened, happened.  I'm just glad that they were so amicable about it, and willing to do the work (at no cost to my family, of course) to right the situation.  I didn't go back yet, but I'm guessing the work has been done.  I plan to go over this weekend to see.

There was so much more to this post, but, unfortunately, I hit a wrong button last night was I was creating it, and lost all but the very first part.  Time only permits me to redo this much for now, but thank you for reading.  Needless to say, my heart is glad. :)

Thanks for reading.

Renate



Tombstone Tuesday - Asy BROWN - #A-ZChallenge

I am participating in the 2017 A-Z Challenge, and this is Day 2, April 2, 2017. 

My "B" post is dedicated to my 2x great grandfather (maternal), Asa/Asy BROWN.It was originally posted on April 3, 2012.

"In memory of ASY BROWN
BORN 1833
DIED 1909
He died as he lived, trusting in God."

Although most of the attention in the genea-world to day is on what folks are finding in the 1940 Census, I'm reflecting on the excitement I felt just a couple of weeks ago when I discovered a picture of the headstone of my maternal great-great grandfather, Asy BROWN.  Asy (Asa/Acy, as I'd been spelling it), is just one of the many ancestors I've discovered on my research journey.  I'd never heard of him before, and neither had my mother, or either of her siblings until I found my way to him through extensive research a couple of years ago.

Most of Asy's life remains a mystery to me, but what I do know is this:

1870 - Asa is a 26 year-old, illiterate farm-hand living (alone) in Hamilton Township, in Martin County, NC.

Between 1870-1880 - Asa marries Luvenia Ross (daughter of Everett Ross and Minervia Dobbins).

1880 - Acy, a farm laborer (servant), now lives in River Township, Warren County, NC, in the home of Charles and Creecy Squires. He is marked as both "single" and "widowed", but I believe both to be inaccurate. My research shows he and Louvenia to have married prior to this, but to be living (working) apart in 1880.  (I also have an indication that Louvenia may have been married before this, so maybe they were both widowed and then got married. This is an area for further research.)

At this same time, "Lou", as she seems to be called, is enumerated in Halifax Co. (Enfield Township), working as a farmhand and living in the home of Essex Whitaker.  At the time of the census, she has a 1-month old (unnamed) daughter.   Like Acy, she is noted to be single. 

1900 - Acy and Lou V (Louvenia) are living in Roanoke Township, Warren County, NC. They have been married for 28 years, according to this census, which would put the marriage around 1872. Louvenia has had 12 children, of which 9 are still living.  Seven of the children, ranging in age from 6 to 18, still live in the home.  (Those were Lottie, Weslie, Cora, Addie, Gus, Brutus, and Sadie.) He is a farmer - renting his home (sharecropper?).  Although the census date is June 22nd, Acy reports only being employed for four months that year.

1909 - Asy (according to his headstone) "died as he lived - trusting God". His grave is almost in the very center of the Roanoke Chapel Missionary Baptist Church cemetery, in the Elams section of Warren County. I wonder if that location is indicative of a prominent position in the church, especially with it being a small obelisk?

*Although the date of birth on Asy's headstone give 1833 as the year, I am not changing it in my database, unless I find proof of that.  Everything else I have on him indicates his birth year to be 1843-44.  Since mistakes are often made by the living, I'm going to stick to what I had before finding this picture.

*Special thanks to Find-a-Grave volunteer, George Seitz, who took this picture of my ancestor's grave, and uploaded it to the site.  As a Find-a-Grave volunteer myself, I encourage everyone reading this to get involved in this effort.  Seeing this headstone for an ancestor who had before been only a name to me, made him very real.  I cried tears of joy when I just happened to discover this on a Google search last month.  Not only did seeing the headstone help to make my gg-grandfather's life seem more tangible, but reading the loving inscription gave me a peek into who he was.  It made me feel that he was respected and loved, but best of all, it gave me a warm feeling to know that, despite what appears to have (possibly) been a life of poverty and struggle, he was connected to, and trusted God.

Renate

#52Ancestors: Week 2 - "Origins" - WHERE I'M FROM

This post is being updated on January 8, 2023, for inclusion in Week 2 of Amy Johnson Crow's "52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks" writing initiative. The original post was written and shared in 2011. I remember being very proud of it, then; and, I feel the same way now. Only the slightest of changes have been made.

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July 24, 2011

Thanks again to Randy Seaver of Genea-Musings for providing us with a fun, engaging activity.  This week's assignment, was to use write a poem entitled, "Where I'm From", using the template. To visit Randy's site and read the entire challenge, please visit http://www.geneamusings.com/2011/07/saturday-night-genealogy-fun-write-poem.html

I enjoyed working on this poem, but found it challenging in some ways, as I had to grope for ideas for a few of the items. However, most came easily, and I found myself smiling, and even laughing as I reflected on memories of days gone by.  I encourage everyone to give this a try, and to share it with your family members, too. :) 
Here's my poem:

Where I'm From

By Renate Yarborough Sanders

I am from bell-bottom pants, stacks and afros. I’m from Hostess Twinkies and Now & Laters.

I am from the historic black neighborhood of Aberdeen (Built by Blacks for Blacks), paved streets, big yards, filled with children playing while mammas watched from every window, and where you’d better get home before those street-lights come on.  I'm from playing on the "Big Hills", waiting for the Ice-Cream Man or "The Truck", and from where switches came off trees faster than you could get the last disrespectful word out of your mouth.

I am from azalea bushes and crepe myrtle trees, and from my grandma’s prized roses.

I am from holding hands during mealtime prayers, and persevering above the odds; From Anna Beatrice GREEN and Mary DAVIS and YARBOROUGHS, NEALS, DUNSTONS, HILLS, ROSSES, BRYANTS and BROWNS. And, like it or not, I’m also from HAWKINS, JONES, MACONS, DAVENPORTS and more.

I am from the head-strong and faithful. I’m from, “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say nothing at all.” And, “Pretty is, as pretty does.”

I am from Baptists, and Presbyterians, and from the foot-stomping, dancing-in-the-aisle United Holiness Church. I’m from folks who love the Lord with all our hearts, souls, and all that is within us!

I'm from Cleveland, Ohio, by way of Franklin, Warren, Tyrrell and Washington Counties, in NC; Norfolk, VA; and somewhere in Africa where people spoke the Bantu languages and watched their families torn apart, chained, and loaded onto ships like somebody’s cargo. I’m from Nigeria, where my ancestors walked proudly, heads up – backs straight, until that fateful day when they were forced to bend by men whose descendants would one day be my kinfolk.

I’m from blue-crabs steamed in a touch of vinegar and seasoned (heavy) with Old-Bay; I’m from collard greens and macaroni-and-cheese, with hot, buttered corn bread on the side.

From Anna Green, a runaway transplant who shared her life with Nathaniel Hawkins, and bore six kids by him; from Arthur P. Yarborough, who after a stint as one of our nation's first black Marines, reenlisted and worked his way up to the rank of Major in the United States Army, only to be cheated out of his next promotion by the stronghold of racism.

I am from the house my grandfather built in Louisburg, the property my grandmother and mother fought to keep in Norfolk, from the last house on the left on the corner lot in Granger Court. I’m from the metal safebox which always sat on the top shelf of my parents’ closet, but now rests in mine. I’m from photo albums filled with pictures of the known and unknown, from manila folders labeled with surnames and CD-ROMs that hold pictures and documents that provide proof of my history - most of which has migrated, in digitized form, onto my laptop and my external hard drive, since the time this piece was first written.

I’m from all of this, and so much more. I’m from America.

Thanks for reading!

Renate

P.S. If you'd like to get in on the 52 Ancestors fun, just click here for more info!

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Sentimental Sunday - The Stuff I'm Made Of

I've been going through some ups and downs with my research of late, and regarding my maternal side, it's mostly been downs.  As is common for most researchers from time to time, I've found myself being rather, um.... quiet.  I think we all set out thinking (or at least, hoping) that we will discover the strengths of our ancestors, and perhaps uncover some of the positive contributions they made to society, but, that is not always going to be the case. 

When I first began my research 13 years ago, I did so in an attempt to discover who I am.  I didn't know anything at all about my ancestors, beyond my maternal and paternal grandmothers, both of whom I personally knew.  I didn't grow up hearing family stories.  As a matter of fact, I really didn't have any sense of there being a "history" of my family.  My maternal grandmother, Mary (Davis) Thomas, lived just 30 minutes away from us, in Norfolk, VA, but it was my paternal grandmother in Louisburg, NC, Anna (Green) Yarborough, with whom I was closest.  Both of these women were constants in my life, and my grandma Thomas even ended up living with us during  my last couple of years of high school.  Therefore, despite the fact that I knew little to nothing of my grandmothers' past, or of the ancestors who preceded them, they were both a part of the fabric of my life.

So today, on Sentimental Sunday I dedicate my post to my grandmothers, the women who raised my parents, and who each had a significant impact on my development into the person I am today.  And not only that, but when I look in the mirror, I see them both in my reflection - the body of one, and the face of the other.  As I've learned more about their lives, and the hardships they each faced, I beam with pride as I recognize what it had to take for each of them to have managed and sustained their households in the loss of their husbands and in the face of repeated financial blows and/or significant family stressors that would have brought many others down.  But, both of my grandmothers stood tall in the face of adversity and beat the odds of their time.  As single parents, they raised successful children and both managed to keep their homes, which are still in our family today.  Through hard work and faith in God, Mary Thomas and Anna Yarborough lived well, and left a legacy of self-sufficiency, perserverance, and good will towards others.  Many times I've been complimented on the way I've raised my children and managed to rise above the many hard times I've been faced with in my adult life, and I'm often asked the question, "How do you do it?"  Well, now I know, and I have the perfect answer:  "It's the 'stuff' I'm made of!"

Anna Green Yarborough

Anna Beatrice Green was born on January 18, 1891 to parents John Wesley and Susan Dunstan Green.  She was the daughter of Nathaniel Hawkins and Anna B. Green (who she was named for). Anna was born in Rolesville (Wake County), NC, but the family soon moved a few miles north to Louisburg, in Franklin County, but returned to Wake County when Anna was in her teens.  Little is known about Anna's early life, but in 1919, she married Calvin R Yarborough, Jr., a widower with three children.  Anna moved to into the Franklin County home that was built by her new husband and his brother, and became mother to Vida, Priscilla, and Frederick Yarborough.  Over the next five years, she gave birth to her own three children, Susie, Calvin III, and Arthur (my father).  Unfortunately, Calvin began to suffer with the symptoms of tuberculosis, the cause of his first wife's death.  He fell ill, and passed away in 1929, leaving Anna to raise six children alone.  Anna, who was, at the time, involved in the creation of a new church in Louisburg (Mt. Hebron United Holy Church) relied on her faith and worked hard keep the taxes paid on the house that her husband had built, and to keep her children fed, clothed, and educated.  She worked as a laundress, as well as for private families as a housekeeper and nanny.  She also took in sewing, all the while maintaining a leadership role in the church she'd helped to create. She had a sweet disposition and was known throughout the little town of Louisburg as, "Miss Anna".  Anna walked several miles each day to and from her jobs on the "white side" of town.  She never did learn to drive.
As Anna grew older, her three biological children helped to support her so that she no longer had to work.  (The older three died of various causes in their 30's and 40's.)  Her greatest joy was in spending time with her four grandchildren, all the children of her youngest son, Arthur.  She was an excellent cook, and was known for the wonderful cakes she baked.  She took pride in her house and her yard, and gave special care and attention to her "award-winning" rose bushes in her front yard.  She loved to sit out on her in her porch in her brown, wooden rocking chair and wave at all of the passers by, many of whom would stop for a chat.
In February, 1977, when I was 15 years old, my grandmother, Anna Yarborough, died of complications from colon cancer.  She is buried in the family plot on "the hill", which is the Louisburg City Cemetery (formerly, "for the Colored").

Mary Davis Thomas

Mary Davis was born December 26, 1897 in Littleton (Halifax County), NC to parents Walter and Minerva Brown Davis.  According to the 1900 Census, Mary had a brother, one year older, named Samuel, and in 1910, the Census states that her mother had actually born three children, but only one (Mary) was living.  It is likely that Mary never knew or remembered her two siblings, because she never mentioned them to my mother, or to either of her other two children.  Mary's maternal ancestors were her grandparents, Asa and Luvenia Ross Brown, and great-grandparents, Everett and Minerva Ross.  Her paternal grandparents were Lewis and Dollie Davis.  Mary's large extended family all lived in the Littleton and Roanoke Rapids areas of North Carolina.

Around the turn of the 20th Century, several members of the Davis family migrated to Norfolk, Virginia, seemingly to work as longshoremen.  Walter, Minerva and Mary were part of this migration.  By 1910, they, as well as several of their family members are living in the Lambert's Point section of Norfolk.  In 1915, a young Mary was wed to her first love, Allen Walker, at the St. Marks AZUA Church in Norfolk.  Allen worked as a brakeman on the Virginia Railroad.  He and Mary were quite in love and lived happily, sharing a home with her parents until his untimely death, which occured sometime early in their marriage. 

Mary, though heartbroken, had to go on with her life.  At some point, she began doing hair in the porch room of the home that she'd shared with Allen, and she petitioned the owner for it's purchase.  In 1924, the house in Lambert's Point was hers, and it is still in our family today.  Sometime later, Mary met Daniel Webster Hill, and they were married in 1929 in Philadelphia, PA, and in 1930, Daniel, had joined Mary and her parents in the home.  Mary began her family with Daniel; first giving birth to a son, Howell, and then, in 1934, to a daughter (my mother), Mary Anne.  In 1936, Mary's father, Walter, died, but she still had her mother, Minerva there to help her with the house and the chldren. Unfortunately, sometime around 1938, Daniel Hill abandoned his family for reasons unknown, and was never heard from again.

Once again, Mary was left on her own, but this time, with two children. Mary was able to carry on with her very successful hair-care business.  True love struck again, and she married Charlie Thomas, a railroad worker with whom she fell deeply in love.  Mary gave birth to her youngest daughter, Jane, in 1940.  Charlie was a loving and caring provider to his wife, daughter, and step-children.  It seemed that the family had finally found joy, but tragedy struck again, as Charlie was killed in a railroad accident, leaving Mary a widow, once again. 

Understandably, Mary lived the rest of her life without a spouse.  She continued to do hair, and also worked as a secretary and receptionist at the local YWCA.  Her mother, Minerva, who was her partner in raising the children, died in 1960, after they were all grown and gone.  Mary carried on, living alone in the home that she'd purchased in 1924.  At some point, she joined, and became a faithful and committed member of Jerusalem Baptist Church in Norfolk. In the mid-70's, when Mary's health began to fail, she moved in with her daughter Mary's family in Hampton, VA, and later into a nursing home in Chesapeake, close to where her son lived.  Mary Davis Walker Hill Thomas, who'd lived to see three generations of her descendants, died in June, 1986, at the age of 89.  She is buried in Calvary Cemetery in Norfolk, VA in a plot with several family members, including her parents, and her beloved last husband, Charlie.

2010 - Here WE Come!

As the year 2009 comes to a close, I find myself in almost continuous reflection about the state of my genealogy research. One thing that I’ve realized is that 2009 has truly been a year of transition for me with respect to my work. Though passionate from the start, it has been during this last 12 months that I’ve become truly driven in my quest to uncover the mysteries of my family history. This drive, which was once simply innate, has now become one with inherent expectations and shared support from others; my extended family members, who now receive a monthly (electronic) newsletter from me, updating them on the progress of my work, and from my blog-family, a support system of like-minded individuals that I never even dreamed was out there. I now feel accountable to both parties as I continue my quest to learn as much as I can about my family history, and to bring my findings into the light of the 21st Century.
My research journey has been filled with highs and lows. Not one, not two, but ALL of my family lines, paternal and maternal are hidden in the darkness of obscurity, and all for different reasons. Beyond my two grandmothers, I knew nothing of my ancestors before I started this work, and once I began asking questions, I quickly found that either my relatives didn’t know the answers, or if they did, they didn’t want to share them. Because of this, every discovery, for me, is truly a triumph, and is never taken lightly.

I, like many of my genea-friends, truly believe that my ancestors want me to find them, so the time I’ve spent in quiet libraries, dusty court-house basements, sterile file rooms (Register of Deeds), prowling through cemeteries, interviewing relatives, building websites, blogging, and putting in thousands of hours of online research has all been for and about those YARBOROUGHS, GREENS, DUNSTANS, HAWKINSES HILLS, BROWNS, and other individuals, yet unknown, who came before me and made me, ME.

In honor of those ancestors, I submit the following genea-goals for the year 2010.

1. To discover the parental roots of my great-great grandfather, Calvin YARBOROUGH, and his wife, Precilla SHAW. I’ve recently received less than encouraging results from the DNA testing, that lead me to believe that I may never be able to find Calvin’s actual parents, and that perhaps he never even knew them himself. It’s beginning to look more and more like ours might have been one of those unfortunate families whose children were separated from the parents, or perhaps who were parented by some “stranger”. More will come on this in 2010…
I’d also like to find out more about Calvin and Precilla’s lives as members of the Franklin County/Louisburg community, and specifically Calvin’s involvement as a trustee at Saint Paul’s Presbyterian Church.

2. To verify the actual name and origin of my gg-grandmother, Anna GREEN, and to find something – anything that corroborates the family stories about her relationship with my gg-grandfather, Nathaniel HAWKINS. I’d also like to find out when and where she died.

3. To find mention of Nathaniel HAWKINS (and hopefully his relationship with Anna) in the family papers at UNC Library. Also, to learn more about his work as a slave trader, and perhaps to find out how he and Anna ended up together. I would also like to find evidence of his cause of death in 1879 and locate his grave.

4. To secure the remaining funding from my GREEN relatives so that we can do the DNA testing that will prove us descendants of Nathaniel Hawkins.

5. To obtain the death certificate for William GREEN, who moved to New York and lived as White. I’d like to find out if he had any children, and if so, to attempt to discover and contact any descendants who may be alive today.

6. To discover the whereabouts of my maternal grandfather, Daniel Webster HILL, who abandoned his wife and family when my mother was just four years old, and was never heard from again.

7. To begin to learn more about my maternal ancestors, Walter and Minerva BROWN, who originated in Littleton, NC, but migrated to Norfolk, VA. I’ve done no more than pull census info on them and their families, since most of my work has been focused on my paternal side for the past 13 years.

8. To better organize my existing research, and to begin the tedious job of going back through it and properly sourcing everything that I already have.

9. To give back to the genealogy community by sharing more of my findings and continuing to volunteer as a keyer for various projects. I also hope to index the hundreds of funeral programs that I found at my aunt’s house in Louisburg, for the NC GenWeb, and then convince her to donate them to either the county library or the State Archives.

Yes, these are lofty goals, but it never hurts to dream big! So, 2010, here I come – and I’m bringing my ancestors with me!

The Other Side (of my family)

(Pictured to right: Manerva, Mary, and Maryanne - my great-grandmother, grandmother, and mother)


I've just come in from a visit with my mother, who, unfortunately, resides in an assisted living facility due to a movement disorder (Parkinsonism?) and increasing dementia. Some visits are short and some are long. This was a long one, due to my showing her recordings of my daughter (a violinist) playing several pieces, and the fact that I had several "newsy" items to update her on.

My mother is pretty much in her "right mind". Her dementia has manifested itself mainly in her ability to take care of her ADL's, and has robbed her of most of her gross and fine motor skills. But, she can still hold a good conversation, and she knows what's up about everything and everybody. The rest of our family (except for my daughters) has basically abandoned her, and on the rare occasions they do have contact with her, they treat her as if she's not herself anymore, which doesn't help her at all. However, when my daughters and I visit her, or take her out, we treat her like the mother/grandmother she's always been, and the longer we are with her, the more of her true personality and still-intact intelligence shines through.

Anyway, this evening during our visit, I was sharing with my mother that the tenants who've lived in her rental home in Norfolk have given their move-out notice, after being in the house for about six years. This was the house that my mother grew up in, which was first owned by her grandparents, then her mother, and became hers shortly before my grandmother's death. My mother had the house renovated in the early 90's and has been renting it out ever since. But, since she been disabled, the responsibility for this property (along with everything else of hers) has become mine, so it was with a bit of a sigh of relief that I shared this news with her, adding that "now we can sell it." My mother's reaction to this was quite genuine. She sort of gasped, and teared up, and responded by quietly saying, "Yes, I guess we can." I thought it was over, so I just sat silently for a minute, but then I heard a very quiet, "I was so hoping we could keep it in the family. It means so much to me." A brief silence followed this, as I watched my mother blinking back tears, and then I responded, "I know, Ma, but it's just too much for me." This she repeated, almost in monotone, but then she added, "I know it is. You have too much on you." We went on to discuss the pros of selling the house - what she could do with the money, etc., and then it was all better. But I couldn't get this out of my mind on my drive home. Here's why:

My ancestry research has been almost soley dedicated to my paternal side. For some reason, I just feel more like I "come from" that side. And besides, my mother's side is smaller. Her siblings are still living and they seem to know who they are. Oh, and there's the other problem of my mother's father abandoning the family when my mother was four years old. No one has ever heard from or about Daniel Webster Hill again.

When we were kids, my brother, Arthur, and I used to claim that my mother's mother was HIS grandma, and my father's mother was MINE. It seemed that they loved us that way, although that probably wasn't true. But on my drive home tonight, I realized that I've really done my mother a disservice by not finding out as much as I possibly could about her roots. Yes, I located them in the census way back to my great-great grandparents back in the beginning of my research, and I've searched high and low to find out about my grandfather, but I haven't done the HALF of the work that I've done on my paternal side, and I plan to change that, beginning right now. So stay tuned because Walter and Manerva Brown Davis (my gg grandparents), Daniel and Mary Davis Hill Thomas (my grandparents), and even my mother, Mary Anne Hill Yarborough will begin to make themselves known on my blog!