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Tomorrow is our Bean Family Reunion. This reunion is held every two years. And it only lasts for an afternoon.
But I'm hoping I can change things a bit.
Tomorrow I fully intend to petition for our reunion to be held for an entire weekend beginning with our 2011 event. Lasting from Friday afternoon through Sunday afternoon.
Our little reunion is held in the mountains of West Virginia. In the very rural county of Monroe [where there is literally not a single stoplight in the entire county!]. In the very tiny hamlet of Waiteville, where there is neither store nor post office.
This once bustling community was literally carved out of a tiny valley in Virginia. Peter's Mountain is the state line for as far as it runs, except for Waiteville. Waiteville at one time was reknown for its virgin timber and mineral ore. And then shortly after 1910 that all changed. The timber was cut out. The ore ran out. And the railroad, which had been used to haul out both, tore up its tracks and left. Up until the 1970's there was a single store which also housed the little post office. Today, these individuals have their mail delivered by the Union postal carrier. And either go into New Castle or Pearisburg, Virginia, or into Union, West Virginia for their groceries. [No late night trips to grab a snack!]
But it's from this tiny place in the mountains that my heritage is layed.
About 1790 came an Irishman who had served as a Loyalist in the American Revolution. He received several land grants. One rather strange grant was for a tract of land near Waiteville known as "Stoney Creek". This is a mountainous range of land that was literally carved through the mountains thousands of years ago by the swirling waters of the creek that continues to flow through. The steep, stony walls lining this valley [more like a passage!] makes one pause and wonder why anyone would want so much land here! Perhaps at that time trapping would have been good here? Who knows.
To this Irishman and his bride were born 2 sons. John and William. And then, suddenly in February of 1804, John is placed in indenture. His father is gone. We don't know if he died or what happened to him. The same year, in September, William is placed for indenture as well.
The next year, the mother is found on the personal property list as a widow. Amount owed is listed as "nothng atall". Under possession "just her clothes and spinning wheel". And then she disappears from history.
The following year, the property on Stoney Creek is sold for back taxes.
And then, in 1813, William is released from his indenture. He has reached the age of majority. Just 2 months after that release, he marries the daughter of a prominent family within the country. The following year they have their first child. And William begins to purchase property.
William brought a suit against the former owner of his indenture, and obtained a large financial settlement. Family legend states that there was actually a 3rd brother to John and William, and his name was Roy. He was younger than William. And shortly after the 1804 indenture, Roy ran away and was never heard from again. [I've not found any record to prove this however. Many others have also searched.]
With his new found gains, William purchased even more property. By 1836, when his last child [the 13th] was born, he was considered quite the gentleman farmer, and owned over 1600 acres of land in the valley.
It is the descendants of these 13 children who meet every two years in the very same valley.
We meet the last standing school house for this community. It was here that my Dad went to school as a young boy. Just 3 rooms and a kitchen. At one point it handled grades 1-12. In its last years of function, it handled grade school only.
Our hope is to "camp out" in this remote area for our weekend long reunion in 2011.
But tomorrow, we begin at 10 a.m. and last till about 5 or so.
Of my 5 children, I had hoped for 3 to arrive. One has already let me know, they won't be there. I still have hope for the other 2. My husband, a long-haul truck driver, is doing his best to get here. We still don't know if he'll make it or not.
One cousin was due to arrive today. She phoned to say she'd missed her flight by 24-hours. A date mix up.
Another cousin called, and has to work. Another, fell in her yard and literally broke her neck! [She'll recover, but it's going to take time!] And yet another is sick. Two have health problems and can't be here. And one has moved too great a distance away for him to be able to get here [financial constraints].
Still, we're hoping for a crowd of about 75.
I am so looking forward to tomorrow! Even knowing that not everyone can be here, I am so excited! It's like the eager anticipation of a child on Christmas Eve! I can hardly wait!!!
I'll let you all know how it goes!
Showing posts with label Hedrick-Shepherd Reunion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hedrick-Shepherd Reunion. Show all posts
Friday, August 7, 2009
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Hedrick - Shepherd Reunion Attended
On Saturday, August 1st, Dad, Uncle Bill and I attended the annual Hedrick-Shepherd Reunion. This small family event takes place in the tiny community of Fort Spring, in Greenbrier County West Virginia. While our particular Bean family line does not extend directly into this familial group, we do share common ancestors. Samuel Perkins and Elizabeth Tuckwiller.
I had hoped to attend this event for years, but it seemed every year there was some kind of obstacle to prevent it. This year was just right.
We planned to arrive immediately after the noon meal was finished. Uncle Bill is 92, and the summer's heat was scorching. We didn't want to expose him too long to that.
The drive over from Dad's home to the Mount Vernon Methodist Church in Fort Spring was fascinating to say the least. I sat in the back seat and listened as Dad and Uncle Bill talked of the days when Uncle Bill was a young boy. [There's 20-years difference between Dad and his brother, Bill. They come from a rather large, extended family. My Grandpa Bean was born in 1866, the year following the Civil War's close. He didn't marry until he was 30. He and his first wife, Blanche, had 3 children. Sadly she died shortly after the birth of the 3rd child from tuberculosis. Left with 3 small children, Grandpa remarried. Ada and Grandpa had 9 children. Poor Ada wasn't given proper pre-natal care. She died from complications following the birth of the 9th child. Lastly, Grandpa married my grandmother, Mary. This wasn't until his children were all grown. He was already an old man of 69. Grandma was a spinster. She was 38 when they married in 1935. Two years later, when Grandpa was 71 and Grandma 40, they had their first child together. My Dad. They went on to have 2 more children between then and 1943. Yep, Grandpa was 76 when his last child was born.]
As we drove through the steep mountain road that lead from Ronceverte to Fort Spring, Uncle Bill told of how his older brothers and he used to haul wool from their farm in Union to the railroad depot in an old Model T truck through this very same trace. He recalled sitting on the wooden floorboards on the return home. His brothers sat on sacks stuffed with straw. He was teased when he would yell out because his posterior would get pinched between those floorboards as they creaked and gave with the rolling motion of the truck as they went around the curves in the road.
Mount Vernon Methodist Church is a site to see! As you approach it, it sits high on the hill, away from the road. The "old" cemetery at its back. The new cemetery sprawling out before it.
The church itself was started in 1846. My great-great-grandfather, Rev. Samuel Perkins, was instrumental in getting the church started, and was in fact its first minister, as well as having the distinction of being the first member to be buried in the cemetery there [in what is called the "old" cemetery now]. Born in 1778, he died in 1854. His wife, Elizabeth Tuckwiller Perkins [1779-1867] buried at his side.
The days festivities were being held behind the church, beside the "old" cemetery, under the picnic shelter. While Dad parked the car, I assisted Uncle Bill to walk to the shelter.
We were instantly greeted by one of the several correspondents I have had over the years from this family. She was quick to make us feel right at home, and above all else, welcome. We were introduced to a score of people, many of whom I feel I have known for a long time! Yet, too many for me to keep names and faces straight!
Following a short business meeting, this group held a silent auction to help raise funds for the annual reunion. I purchased a lovely framed quilt square. The quilt square was handmade more than 100 years ago. And the handmade chestnut frame was made from reclaimed lumber from an old tool shed that had stood on the property until January of this year. It's a lovely piece which now hangs in a place of honor in my living room. I also purchased a rough draft of Ralph Hedrick's "William G. Shepherd Family Story and Genealogy 1778 - 1970", which he later published. A true treasure!
We learned that the fence surrounding the old cemetery had been torn down by vandals in January of this year. They had also stolen boards from the old tool shed [from thus was the frame to my quilt piece made]. The individual responsible was finally apprehended and prosecution is in progress.
All in all, we didn't stay but a short 2-hours for the reunion. But it was an event I truly enjoyed!
Now... this Saturday [the 8th] we attend our own Bean Family Reunion! I can hardly wait!!!
Cyndi Beane Henry
Walter "Buster" Beane
William "Bill" Beane
Listening raptly to a speaker tell about the Hedrick-Shepherd family.
I had hoped to attend this event for years, but it seemed every year there was some kind of obstacle to prevent it. This year was just right.
We planned to arrive immediately after the noon meal was finished. Uncle Bill is 92, and the summer's heat was scorching. We didn't want to expose him too long to that.
The drive over from Dad's home to the Mount Vernon Methodist Church in Fort Spring was fascinating to say the least. I sat in the back seat and listened as Dad and Uncle Bill talked of the days when Uncle Bill was a young boy. [There's 20-years difference between Dad and his brother, Bill. They come from a rather large, extended family. My Grandpa Bean was born in 1866, the year following the Civil War's close. He didn't marry until he was 30. He and his first wife, Blanche, had 3 children. Sadly she died shortly after the birth of the 3rd child from tuberculosis. Left with 3 small children, Grandpa remarried. Ada and Grandpa had 9 children. Poor Ada wasn't given proper pre-natal care. She died from complications following the birth of the 9th child. Lastly, Grandpa married my grandmother, Mary. This wasn't until his children were all grown. He was already an old man of 69. Grandma was a spinster. She was 38 when they married in 1935. Two years later, when Grandpa was 71 and Grandma 40, they had their first child together. My Dad. They went on to have 2 more children between then and 1943. Yep, Grandpa was 76 when his last child was born.]
As we drove through the steep mountain road that lead from Ronceverte to Fort Spring, Uncle Bill told of how his older brothers and he used to haul wool from their farm in Union to the railroad depot in an old Model T truck through this very same trace. He recalled sitting on the wooden floorboards on the return home. His brothers sat on sacks stuffed with straw. He was teased when he would yell out because his posterior would get pinched between those floorboards as they creaked and gave with the rolling motion of the truck as they went around the curves in the road.
Mount Vernon Methodist Church is a site to see! As you approach it, it sits high on the hill, away from the road. The "old" cemetery at its back. The new cemetery sprawling out before it.
The church itself was started in 1846. My great-great-grandfather, Rev. Samuel Perkins, was instrumental in getting the church started, and was in fact its first minister, as well as having the distinction of being the first member to be buried in the cemetery there [in what is called the "old" cemetery now]. Born in 1778, he died in 1854. His wife, Elizabeth Tuckwiller Perkins [1779-1867] buried at his side.
The days festivities were being held behind the church, beside the "old" cemetery, under the picnic shelter. While Dad parked the car, I assisted Uncle Bill to walk to the shelter.
We were instantly greeted by one of the several correspondents I have had over the years from this family. She was quick to make us feel right at home, and above all else, welcome. We were introduced to a score of people, many of whom I feel I have known for a long time! Yet, too many for me to keep names and faces straight!
Following a short business meeting, this group held a silent auction to help raise funds for the annual reunion. I purchased a lovely framed quilt square. The quilt square was handmade more than 100 years ago. And the handmade chestnut frame was made from reclaimed lumber from an old tool shed that had stood on the property until January of this year. It's a lovely piece which now hangs in a place of honor in my living room. I also purchased a rough draft of Ralph Hedrick's "William G. Shepherd Family Story and Genealogy 1778 - 1970", which he later published. A true treasure!
We learned that the fence surrounding the old cemetery had been torn down by vandals in January of this year. They had also stolen boards from the old tool shed [from thus was the frame to my quilt piece made]. The individual responsible was finally apprehended and prosecution is in progress.
All in all, we didn't stay but a short 2-hours for the reunion. But it was an event I truly enjoyed!
Now... this Saturday [the 8th] we attend our own Bean Family Reunion! I can hardly wait!!!
Cyndi Beane Henry
Walter "Buster" Beane
William "Bill" Beane
Listening raptly to a speaker tell about the Hedrick-Shepherd family.
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