Bill and Ron's Excellent Adventure Day Two

Bill in the rain at one of the cemeteries in the mountains we visited today

Today folks we ventured out into the steady rain and visited family cemeteries over the border up in the Pisgah Mountains where my father was born and grew up until he was ten years old.


After a nice breakfast in the Hampton Inn lobby this morning, I gathered my cameras and we headed over the border to the mountains that form the border between Tennessee and North Carolina.  I was hoping to visit the cemetery where my great grandfather Isaac Lewis and his wife Mary Jane Hughes are buried.  They are on the top of a mountain at the end of Pigeon Roost Road.  Last year when Bill and I visited, we couldn't find that small Lewis family cemetery.  We found it this time but not without a lot of effort.  They are way on the top of the mountain.  I was exhausted by the time I reached the top.  The last time I visited this cemetery was eighteen years ago when I was 56 years old.  Now I'm 70 and I'm telling you I felt it this time.  But I got there and took pictures which I will publish when I get home.

Next we drove around those "wiggle roads" up in the mountains looking for family cemeteries.  We were successful beyond our wildest hopes!  I found five cemeteries, including one cemetery containing many of my direct ancestors in Tipton Hill.  Pictures and videos will follow when I get home and can post them to You Tube.

The only problem today in addition of not being sure what roads to travel, was the constant rain.  At least it wasn't raining hard.  This was actually a good rain because it was light and steady.  The hills and valleys seemed to be washed clean with the birds chirping their approval.

We returned exhausted.  Bill is sleeping now.  We spend one more day here and then we take off to Bill's hometown of Toccoa, Georgia.  Bill wants to revisit where he grew up and of course I will be taking pictures of as many cemetery headstones as my legs can take the constant knee bending to take those photos.

We had dinner at Panera Bread this evening.  Wonderful!  I can't wait for the Panera Bread to open in Rehoboth Beach.

Hopefully the rain will end tomorrow.  This must be like what it is to live in Seattle or London.  I don't like it.  The rain is good but.....let's have a little sunshine.

Time for me to end this missive and start reading my new book "The Real Romney."  A real page turner I'm sure.

Bear in the Woods

I don't remember if I posted this video so at the risk of repeating myself, I'll post it again.  Bill and took a trip down South this past spring.  One of our stops was at Cades Cove in the Smoky Mountains National Park in Tennessee.  Cades Cove was originally purchased by one of my ancestors, William "Fighting Billy" Tipton back in the early 1800's.  "Fighting Billy" was a contemporary of President Andrew Jackson (yes, I am bragging.)  Although my ancestor never lived in Cades Cove, he did sell off a lot of the land to his relatives.  The existence of many Tipton graves in Cades Cove is what started me on my genealogy research of my Tipton roots.

Cades Cove was inhabited by many Tipton families as well as other families until the Federal government brought them all out (for pennies on the dollar I might add, Tiptons seem to always be on the short end of any monetary deal, must be in the genes) and established the Cades Cove National Park.

Cades Cove possesses a glorious natural beauty that is rare in this county in these days.  Visitors to the park travel a loop through the park.  If they are lucky they will see some of the present inhabitants of the park like we did on this spring day.

What we saw was a black bear snacking on some wild berries by a clear, cold, stream on this brisk spring day.  Take notice how many cars stop to observe the black bear in it's natural habitat.  Also note towards the end of the film when the bear seems to be approaching we tourists and how we head towards our cars!

We're going down again this spring.  It's an annual event for us now.  Enjoy!

Standoff

Okay folks, this falls under the category "You never know what Ron's going to post."


For the most part of this extremely hot and humid day, I've been here at my computer updating my Find a Grave account.  While I enjoy updating my account, occasionally I like have to take a break from posting just names and dates.  That's when I check out the newspaper from near where my dad grew up and left when he was ten years old.  My dad was born in the mountains of western North Carolina, near the border with Tennessee.  The place where his family lived was called "The Bailey Settlement" which probably was just a shack by one of the holler roads that lead up to the top of the mountain.  Yep, my dad was a hillbilly I'm proud to say.  Of course I didn't feel that way when I was growing up but now I'm proud of that fact. My paternal ancestors were from Appalachia.

The earliest settlers arrived in those hills in the late 1600's.  They were of English and Scotch Irish descent. I've been researching my family tree for almost twenty years now and these are documented facts.

During the late 1920's, my grandfather moved his wife and nine sons (my father and his eight brothers) to southeastern Pennsylvania.  Two more sons were born in Pennsylvania.  I guess you could say technically the two new sons weren't hillbillies since they weren't born in the mountains.

My father met my Mother on a double date.  He was with another girl and she with another guy but once Mom saw him she told her girlfriend "You get in the back, I'm sitting with HIM."  The rest is history.  Mom and Pop got married (she was 16 and he was 20).  They produced three more boys (of which I am the oldest) and here I am today writing about it.

So what am I getting at with this sleazy picture at the top of this blog?  Some years ago when I visited my "roots" in those mountains, I was shocked at how little life had apparently changed since my grandfather and grandmother got out of those mountains to start a new life in southeastern Pennsylvania.

Just this past spring Bill and I were in Johnson City, Tennessee (the biggest town near those mountains) and we visited the "hollers" again and still see remnants of the homes of those very poor folk who used to live there.  However, while riding up and down those beautiful mountain "wiggly" roads (as Bill calls them), we noticed that more and more retirees from out of state have built modest homes that now dot the sides of those roads.

So I was lulled into thinking that maybe the Hatfield and McCoy days were way behind us (by the way, my Mother's maiden name was "Hadfield" - no relation) but checking the Johnson City Press today for Tipton obituaries what should I find on the front page.  Yep.  One of those men who give abad name to hillbillies.  Read the notice, he was threatening to shoot his hostages with a bow and arrow!  OMG.

One of my favorite bloggers post a weekly feature called "Mug Shot Wednesday."  Doofus here looks like a good candidate.  Come to think of it, this guy could just as easily be here in Sussex County.  Do you think?

Sorry folks, no pretty flower shots today.  Sometimes we just have to get into the nitty gritty.  It's called "balance."  Like I said, you never know what I'm going to post.  Predictable I'm not.