Poppa

Since the passing of my father-in-law, William F. Johnson, I just can't seem to get back into a rhythm. I must be suffering from "Car Lag" which is a form of "Jet Lag" caused by automobile travel. I feel like my head is in a cloud most of the time, just when I have a lot of loose ends to clean up. As if that was not enough, every time I look through his papers it brings the memories flooding back and I have to take a break.

At the services in Oklahoma, we did a pictorial presentation of his life set to the tune of "Oh my PaPa" that was very touching. His cousin, Chaplain Richard Betts was one of those officiating, and delivered an equally touching eulogy. We all went to Ward's Chapel Cemetery where he was laid to rest next to his wife Anna Bell Betts. The cemetery is small, probably containing less than 800 gravesites, and is in a remote country location near the intersection of Ward's Chapel Road and Oklahoma State Highway 7. The sun was shining at the graveside services and all his family from California and friends from in an around Atoka were there.

Since we returned home, I'm learning that Poppa was a very active person right to the end. His affairs are in pretty good order, but he was so involved I'll probably be the next several months notifying his associates and closing accounts. Poppa never threw away anything, and the hard part is just separating what is important from that which is not! The good part is that I have another trove of documented family history to add to my files. Among his papers, I found WWII ration books for gasoline and tires that were issued to his father William Henry Johnson!

I think the habit of saving everything is something born of the depression era when flour sacks were turned into clothing and tableware came in cereal boxes.

Traveling

It was a long trip to Oklahoma and back but we made it.  We chose to take the southern route (I-10) this time in lieu of our usual trip along I-40.  We thought this would give us a change of scenery and make the drive more enjoyable.  What the hell was I thinking?  The first thousand miles was unbroken desert!  The only change we noticed was in the type of cactus plants we could see.

We had pretty much decided not to return the same way, but a last minute snowstorm forced us to take the southern route home as well.  The 100 mile trip from Atoka, OK to Dallas, Tx was a site to behold and had I known how treacherous it was I would have waited out the snowstorm.  We saw no less then 100 vehicles that had spun out and were in ditches or worse.  Some of the accidents had happened during the night and the owners had left their vehicles stranded in the snow drifts, but many others had just recently occurred and the owners were still in their cars, many still had stunned looks on their faces indicating we had just missed the wild event.  About ten miles east of Dallas, we left all that behind and were in bright sunshine.

We have made this drive several times over the past couple of years, and each time we try to find variations on our route.  Once, we took a side trip to Roswell to see if we could spot any aliens.  We did not.  We did see the McDonald's restaurant that was built to look like a flying saucer.  How tacky is that!  On another trip, we went to see Santa Fe in New Mexico, one of the most historic places west of the Mississippi River.  From there we continued north to the artists community of Taos, NM, a very worthwhile place to visit, and then continued west through the painted desert and on to the Grand Canyon where he turned south again and rejoined the traffic on the I-40 for the remainder of the trip, Ho Hum.

Ch 9, Grandchildren and Retirement

Immediately after Gail’s high school graduation ceremony, in June of 1963, the family moved once again.

This time it was off to sunny Southern California, to the small town of Sunnymead (now Moreno Valley) just outside of Riverside CA, and an assignment to March AFB. It was at March AFB that Freeland was promoted to Senior Master Sergeant, which required him to extend his enlistment for two more years. Annabell (Betts) continued her nursing career at the base hospital, and Gail enrolled for her first semester at Riverside City College. The Johnsons were in Sunnymead for less than a year when they purchased a home new home on Starcrest Drive just a few miles from the base. A few months later, Gail’s future husband, Robert Henderson moved into a new home next door to the Johnsons. Freeland remained at March AFB for the remainder of his Air Force Career, finally retiring in 1968.

After his Air Force retirement, Freeland studied and received his real estate license and began another career buying and selling properties around the area. In a short time, he had purchased three other homes on Starcrest Drive, and donated one of them to Robert and his daughter Gail when they returned from their enlistment in the Air Force. He also dabbled in mobile homes and even opened a parts store for a while in Rubidoux, just across the river from Riverside.

Carey and James Adam Henderson

In 1974, Freeland's daughter, Gail, gave birth to his first and only granddaughter, Carey Henderson. In 1978 his first grandson arrived, James Adam Henderson. The Johnson and Henderson families all lived in close proximity to each other in Moreno Valley for several years and, in due time, Carey grew to adulthood and had a child of her own who she named Kylee Alexis, Freeland’s first great granddaughter.

Kylee Alexis

Several years after the birth of Kylee, Carey delivered William Johnson's only great grandson, Caden, Robert Adams.

 Caden Robert Adams

After about 23 years of the California business climate, Freeland got the Wanderlust and longed to return to his roots in Oklahoma. It is now 1989 and, Freeland had amassed enough funds to purchase land in Cherokee County, Oklahoma with the intention of developing residential property. As luck would have it, the failing health of his mother-in-law, Lennie Betts caused him to take a detour to Atoka, Oklahoma to care for her. While in Atoka, Freeland purchased another 80 acres and, as he put it, went into the cow business with Annabell’s cousin, Richard Betts. It wasn’t long before he was completely involved and had over 75 head of cattle and was focused on the "cow/calf business" end of the industry.

By the time Lennie Betts passed away in January of 1997, Freeland was firmly entrenched in the local economy and decided to stay in Atoka. He lives there today (2005) with his wife of 62 years, Annabell Betts. After his ritual early morning "board meetings" at the local McDonald’s restaurant, with the other cattlemen of the area, he can usually be found tending to his cattle or gathering the hay from his 80 acres of grass.

Note:  Since this biography was written, Williams' wife, Anna Bell passed away in October of 2006.  She is buried in Wards Chapel cemetery in her hometown of Atoka, Oklahoma.

Note:  Since I started posting this biography, William Freeland Johnson passed away and, by now, is buried next to his wife Anna Bell at Wards Chapel cemetery in Atoka, Oklahoma.  For our family, he was the last of his generation.  For us, an era has passed.  We love you PaPa.

Ch 8, Military Life and Children

In the spring of 1942 Freeland accepted an invitation from his nephew, Henry Bradshaw, to accompany him on a double date with a nurse who was attending school at the Baptist Hospital in Muscogee Oklahoma.

 Anna Bell Betts, 1941

The young nurse’s name was Anna Bell Betts, and she was from Atoka Oklahoma. They saw each other on and off for two years and were eventually married in Odessa, Texas on May 7th, 1943. Freeland and "Betts" spent most of the war years at Odessa/Midland AFB and he attained the rank of Master Sergeant during that time. He also undertook the duties of "Line Chief" before he left there in December, 1945 to take up duties with the 33rd Fighter Wing in "First and Fellbrook" Germany, near Munich.

 William Freeland in Germany, 1946

Freeland had the opportunity, after he arrived in Germany, to visit the Jewish internment camps and see firsthand, the evidence of the atrocities that took place under the Nazi regime of Adolph Hitler. The destruction in Munich was such that the rubble in the streets, even after it had been bulldozed to the sides, only afforded one way traffic. The autobahn was a continual line, on both sides, of displaced persons and families with no apparent place to go. Their plight was discomforting to most of the military personnel at the time. One striking memory is of the Russian military hauling train loads of goods back to the motherland. Freeland remembers open boxcars full of toilets, bathtubs, and other plumbing fixtures.

 

Anna Gail Johnson, 1946

Freeland and Bett’s first child, Anna Gail, was born on the 24th of November 1945, and it was a full year before his wife and daughter would join him in Germany. Freeland received a telegram informing him that his wife and daughter would be arriving at a specific time and date, but immediately thereafter he received another telegram telling him that his daughter had taken ill and they would not be arriving as planned, so he did not make the rendezvous. To his dismay, the family arrived as scheduled and he suffered a severe tongue lashing from the chaplain for not being a responsible husband and father. Upon arrival at their final destination, they were assigned quarters "off-base" and were required to have a maid in an effort to put the German people back to work and help re-build the German economy.

Aside from the obvious inconveniences of being stationed in a "war-torn" country, their stay in Germany was a good experience. As the German economy began to recover, they were able to procure transportation in the form of a 1947 Chevrolet with a speedometer that registered Kilometers/hr instead of the usual Miles/hr. Freeland paid $1,200 for it and had it shipped over. Soon, the German bakeries were back in business and fresh bread was available, but many of the wives who had arrived to be with their husbands were appalled when the bread was delivered "unwrapped." It wasn’t long before the Germans began bagging their bread. While in Germany, the family also had the opportunity to visit Prague Czechoslovakia and Austria.

The S.S. Sultan

In November 1948, Freeland, "Betts" and Gail shipped out of Bremerhaven Germany for their return trip to the "States." They sailed on the S.S. Sultan for the six day trip to New York. After a couple of days in New York, they picked up their Chevrolet and headed West for Muscogee Oklahoma. They rested in Muscogee for about a month before Freeland left "Betts" and Gail and proceeded to his next duty station at Carswell AFB in Fort Worth, Texas. It wasn’t long before he found accommodations and had the family join him. Freeland remained at Carswell for about a year while he served as "Flight Engineer" on an assortment of different aircraft and traded in the old 47’ Chevy for a brand new "Baby Cadillac," more commonly know as a 1949 Chevrolet Sedan.

In late 1949, Freeland’s piled the family into their new Chevy and headed to his next duty station at McDill AFB in Tampa Florida, but they took a detour to Wichita, Kansas for 18 months while Freeland attended classes and trained his maintenance crews at the Boeing Aircraft Factory to learn the electrical system on a B-47 airplane. After the completion of this training period, the family continued their journey to Tampa, Florida, where Freeland took up duties as the Superintendent of Flight line Maintenance in 1951.

 Anna Bell, Gail, and William at McDill AFB, 1954

Gail started school at McDill AFB. The Johnson’s were at McDill for a full, seven long years during which time they purchased yet another Chevrolet, this time a 1952 Chevrolet Bel-Air "ragtop." They kept that "ragtop" for their full tour at McDill AFB, and sold it upon arrival at their next duty station at Lake Charles AFB in Lake Charles, Louisiana in 1958. They traded it for a 1959 Ford Sedan "Straight Six." It was at Lake Charles that Betts put her nurses training to good use and took a job as an "operating room" nurse at the local hospital, and Gail attended her first year of High School.

The family was only in Louisiana for about two years before another re-assignment, in early 1961, had them driving the "Straight Six" to Oscoda Michigan and Wurtsmith AFB. It was here that Gail graduated from High School and Betts honed her nursing skills at the base hospital.

Freeland was promoted to "Maintenance Control" and helped to accommodate the maintenance requirements of his own squadron plus the added responsibility of three squadrons (Wing) of B-52’s that were moved from the Miami area during the Cuban Missile Crisis.

Ch 7, He's In The Army Now

Initially, the recruiter wanted Freeland to be part of the 7th Cavalry Troup but Freeland had his fill of horses also, and wanted nothing more to do with them. He opted for the 82nd Field Artillery, 1st Cavalry Division only to discover, to his dismay, that it was a "horse drawn" unit and he now had two horses to tend to instead of one. He eventually ended up at Fort Bliss in El Paso, Texas for his military training.

William Freeland (on far horse) and Sgt. Brown

After the first year, William decided that the "horse army" was not the exciting life he expected and discovered that he could buy his way out for $110. Out of his $21/month stipend he managed to save the required fee in only 1 year, but by that time he had changed his mind and decided to complete his enlistment. William graduated quickly through the ranks and became a Corporal and then a "Buck Sergeant" by the time he was 22 years old in 1940.

William Freeland Johnson, 1938 at Fort Bliss, Texas

As a Corporal, William was initially responsible for training new recruits and breaking re-mounts (new horses) for service as draft horses or riding horses. Before long he was acting as Gunnery Sergeant with the "C" Battery of the 82nd Field Artillery where he was assigned to the "instrument" section and was responsible for locating and positioning his Battery’s "line of fire." He was also assigned to the "wire" section, and was responsible for laying communication wire between HQ and the Gun Batteries.

As part of his unofficial training, Freeland learned how to "cook the books" and helped the mess sergeant to improve his output by taking an accurate count of the "available" diners at the mess hall. By counting all "available" heads instead of actual diners, Freeland increased the allotment given to the mess sergeant each month. The extra allotment allowed them to purchase better and fresher supplies at local distributors than were normally provided by the commissary.

It was also at Fort Bliss that Freeland ended up in the hospital with a severe case of pneumonia that nearly ended this story right here. His family back in Muscogee had been notified that "the end was near" and that if they wanted to seem him they had better hurry to El Paso. Freeland was in and out of consciousness for three or four days and relates an interesting experience he had during that time. He remembers feeling as if he was being buried under a pile of military duffle bags and all the while struggling to get out because he couldn’t breathe. Each time he gave up, someone or something urged him to "try one more time" until he finally succeeded in casting the bags aside and reaching the surface. Freeland eventually recovered and completed his three year enlistment.

By now it was July 27th, 1941 and the winds of war were looming on the horizon. Freeland was faced with the option of being drafted back into the "Horse Army" at his old rank, or re-enlisting into the newly formed Army/Air Force as a private. He chose the latter, having had his fill of the horse drawn artillery unit he had trained with. He was soon re-assigned to Ellington Field, South of Houston, Texas where his prior training as a drill sergeant was much in demand. At his new commander’s request, and even though he was only a private, he took up duties as a drill sergeant and was rewarded with the special privilege of a private room and the freedom to come and go as he pleased. He was further promised that the commander would take him along to the squadron after six weeks.

 William Freeland in the new Army/Air Force, 1941

When his six weeks were completed, Freeland was sent to Randolph Field in San Antonio, Texas to attend all the schools necessary for the complete maintenance of aircraft. He studied aircraft engines, air frames, hydraulics, and electrical for six months before he was transferred to a flight training squadron at Odessa/Midland Air Force Base near the towns of the same names.

 William Freeland, on the flightline, 1943

It was here that Freeland’s orders and promotions finally caught up with him, and he discovered that he had been promoted from private to PFC, then to Corporal, to Sergeant, Staff Sergeant, and then to Technical Sergeant during the previous nine months! He assumed the duties of a "flight chief" with direct responsibility for over 25 aircraft.

Ch 6, No More Farming

Freeland remembers working on uncle Tom’s farm six days a week, twelve hours a day for the enormous sum of fifty cents a day!

 Uncle Tom with Papa

Thomas Jefferson Johnson (1877-1957) and William Henry Johnson (1876-1961)

After a hard day in the fields, when the boys returned home, they had to prepare meals and take care of all the other household chores. On a rotational basis, among the three of them, they did all the cooking, laundry, cleaning, and taking care of the animals. Biscuits and gravy was the main fare at the table, usually accompanied by some kind of meat. It might be some of the home canned beef, a freshly slaughtered pig, or one of the chickens they raised for eggs. What vegetables they had came directly from their own garden. The only things they purchased at this time were sugar, flour, dairy, and other staples.

On returning from the fields, one of the boys would go straight to the kitchen and mix up a tray of biscuits (a couple dozen) and a large pan of gravy, using bacon grease or whatever fats were left over from previous meals. Their dad, “Papa” stayed home during the day, and took care of preparing whatever meat was going to accompany the days meal. Of the other two boys, one would tend to the animals and the other to the garden before they would “wash up at the pump” and arrive just in time for dinner. “Papa” and the three boys had a routine, and except for the rotation of the players it was never broken.

Given the difficulties of the early years, and the added burden of the Depression and the “Dust Bowl,” it is not difficult to understand why farming was not his "cup of tea." The country’s financial depression had been going on for almost eight years, and things were not getting much better. Wages were low and opportunities were scarce. Freeland remembers that land was cheap, but nobody had any money. By the time they bought supplies for the week out of their combined income of nine dollars, there was barely enough left over to buy a “soda pop” and a small bottle of “hooch” to mix it with

 

William Freeland, 1936

Freeland only stayed another 18 months or so before he had had enough of farming! On the way, with his brothers Owen and Francis, to chop the "cockle burrs" out of the fence row, Freeland was mesmerized by the "lazy glimmers" emanating from the hot asphalt paving. He was overcome by a sudden urge to dissociate himself from farming and began to swing his hoe around in wider and wider circles until it had achieved the desired momentum whereupon he released it and let if fly. The hoe sailed to the top of a nearby Cottonwood tree where it probably remains to this day. While Owen and Francis stood there transfixed, Freeland informed them that "never again would he pick up a hoe." The next day he got his papers to enlist in the Army; it’s 1938.

 

Papa and William Freeland Johnson, 1938

Note:  We are leaving today to take William Freeland Johnson home to be buried next to his wife Anna Bell, in Atoka, Oklahoma on Monday.  Consequently, I will not be here to post the last few chapters of his story until next week.

Ch 5, The Great Depression

It is now 1928. The family moved to Spaniard’s Creek (The road signs show the spelling as Spaniard’s Creek, but other sources and the cemetery sign show it as Spainard’s Creek) and sharecropped a farm on Elm Grove Road. William’s cousins and uncle Robert E. Lee Johnson joined them on an adjacent farm and they all tried their hand at raising sugar cane, cotton, and corn. The bottom had fallen out of the market by this time, and William Freeland's Father (William Henry) and the two older sons Lee and Owen took a trip west looking for better opportunities and they soon found themselves in "The land of milk and honey," Tempe Arizona. After finding jobs in the farming and irrigation industry, they returned and loaded up the whole family and moved them to Tempe. After about nine months in Tempe, the family returned to Oklahoma and ended up on the same farm they had occupied before at Elm Grove Road.

It is now 1931 and the depression is in full swing. The family is farming cotton, corn, and sugar cane. William F. entered "Heard School" and completed the eighth grade there. It is here that their mother Gertie Bell dies of pneumonia on the 10th of January, 1933.

 Gertie Bell and William Henry's monument stone

Gertie is buried in the Elm Grove Cemetery at "Spainards Creek." Five of the Johnson boys including brothers and cousins attended school here. William remembers how his cousin Henry seemed to be very sharp. “He would read the book one time and lay the book down and never have to pick it up again.” “We (William and Johnny, Henry’s brother) read it nine times and still couldn’t get it” William said.

The main thing William remembers about these school years is the aggressiveness of the girls. He said he “couldn’t beat them off with a stick” and had to take refuge in the classroom at times for some peace and quiet. He remembers how they would come up behind him and wrap their arms around him and he would reach back and touch their forbidden places, which is exactly what they wanted.

By this time, most of William’s siblings had spread out and were farming their own plots. Also, the loss of their mother required them to send the youngest son Sosbee to live with his sister Edna in Fort Gibson. As if they hadn’t had enough trouble, the family home burned to the ground in 1934 but they rebuilt and the remaining children, Owen, Francis, and Freeland stayed with their father William at Spaniard’s Creek for another couple of years.

Although the times were hard, it was not all toil. The Johnson boys were typical of the youth at that time and were always into some kind of shenanigans. They managed to acquire a Model "A" ford they called the "tin lizzy" that allowed them access to a wider range of mischief. When the three of them, known as the "naughty boys," were out on the town, the locals knew it was time to get the women and children off the streets. As related to Freeland 40 years later by one of their female companions of that time, they had reputations that preceded them, and parents were careful to protect their daughters from the Johnson influence.

As usual, Owen seemed particularly adept at finding trouble no matter where he went and as a result, Freeland and Francis were hesitant to accompany him on his escapades. When Owen couldn’t find outside trouble it was not unusual for him to start trouble with one or the other of his brothers. Considering the events of the times, they lived a pretty good life until the struggle against the Great Depression and the Dust Bowl forced them, in 1936, to move to Fort Gibson where they helped William’s brother Tom on his farm. Brother Lee had a place of his own and ran a dairy and brother Francis went to work for Roosevelt,s Civilian Conservation Corps. Brothers Robert Owen, Francis Eugene, and William Freeland stayed with “Papa.”

Ch 4, The Old Nasty Place

After “Dirty Creek” the family moved again to a place they referred to as the "old nasty place," where they sharecropped for about year; it was 1923. At the "old nasty place" there was a two acre yard with a white picket fence, a sawmill that was strewn with lumber and sawdust, and 16 teams of mules (32 mules) used for farming. The family did not stay long here.

The Johnson Clan, about 1920

L to R: Iva Mae, Lee Maskel, William Henry, Franis Eugene, William Freeland, Gertie Bell, Robert Owen, and Leonard Francis.

The next stop was very near the town of Webbers Falls, Oklahoma where William started his education at the “Dog Town School” with his two cousins Johnny and Henry, who were the children of his uncle Lee. He learned how to play baseball but got batted in the head while he was standing too close to the batter. Mrs. Perris was his teacher but Freeland remembers that, more often than not, lessons would be taught by the older girls of the school.

Cousin Henry, in his 20's

Freeland’s cousin Henry began showing his true nature while attending school here. Freeland remembers Mrs. Perris’ shins being black and blue from the kicks of Henry, and how Henry would chew up a “wad” of paper for several minutes before launching it across the room at some poor unsuspecting victim. Finding trouble was a lifelong talent of Henry’s, and it appears that he got an early start at this school.

The students, if they had been good, were allowed to go to the “Cloak Room” to study their lessons, but the girls and boys were separated with each having their own “Cloak Room.” Freeland remembers that the boys had finagled a way to loosen the screen on their window, and they could sneak out and crawl under the porch and come up on the girls side for a clandestine visit with the girls. Freeland also remembers and old mule and a horse that were allowed to roam the school grounds freely, and how the horse broke a window by rubbing up against it to relieve an itch.

The next move was to a farm just northwest of Webbers Falls near Brewer’s Bend on the Arkansas River, where Freeland completed the third, fourth, and fifth grades at a school taught by a teacher with “Red” hair. The family farmed cotton and some potatoes and were becoming prosperous and it was here that the family bought their first automobile, a brand new Model "T" Ford. It was about 1928 and just prior to the Great Depression, and Freeland remembers his father paying the farmhands with piles of silver dollars.

Model "T" Ford

Freeland recalls their experiments with electricity when they would take the fine wire from a broken coil off their model “T,” and connect it to the new coil with the loose end hidden in the chicken feed or the dogs food. They would then turn on the automobiles electrical system, crank it by hand to “top dead center” and allow the coil to build up a huge charge of electricity. When it was ready, and the unsuspecting animal was enjoying his food, they would crank the engine to just beyond top dead center, allowing the coil to discharge through the salvaged wire to the food supply sending the victim flying into the air. “Poppa” wondered why all the animals were developing food avoidance, Freeland said. One of the games they played was to put two silver dollars into a pan of water and connect the pan to the wires from the telephone crank. They would then let anyone have the silver dollars if they could retrieve them while the crank was being turned. They never lost their money. The family stayed at this location until Freeland had finished the 5th grade, and they had purchased their second automobile, a brand new Model "A" Ford.

 Model "A" Ford

Ch 3, Farming In Oklahoma

William Freeland was born on a farm in Hitchita Oklahoma. He was the eighth of 10 children born to William Henry Johnson and Gertrude Bell Amos.

 The Johnson kids, about 1927

Back row, L to R: Leonard Nicholas, Edna, Lee Maskel, Iva Mae, Robert Owen.

Front row, L to R: Francis Eugene, Charles Sosby and William Freeland

When only six months of age, his family moved to Checotah Oklahoma but Freeland was too young to remember much about that location. When William was about 2 years old, the family moved again, to Webbers Falls Bottom (Dirty Creek), just across the Arkansas River from the Johnson family’s first settlement in Gore, OK back at the turn of the century. It was good land for growing cotton, but it always flooded during the rainy season. Freeland was very young, but recalls the first steel bridge being built after one of those floods had washed out the original wooden bridge.

As a child, Freeland remembers crawling under his mom’s sewing machine and grabbing hold of the vertical rod that was connected to the treadle and stopping his mom’s sewing progress. The family lived about five miles out of Webbers Falls and Freeland remembers wanting to ride the “Red Ball” bus into Muscogee, but never got the chance. The “Red Ball” was a privately owned limousine that was “Big and Black.” The owner was a local entrepreneur who provided bus service between Muscogee and Webbers Falls, and often picked up residents of the outlying farms on his route.

Freeland was too young to work in the fields, but he would often be sent out to the fields with a gallon bucket of water for his brothers, and remembers that on most occasions it sloshed so much that the bucket was only half full by the time he got to them. Turner Harwell, the boyfriend of Freeland's sister Edna, worked for the county road department as a grader. often, William got to ride on the horse-drawn road grader with his future brother-in-law and sister Edna who was 16 years older than Freeland. The Harwell family had an adjacent farm and grew pecans in their orchard.

Freeland also remembers tagging along with his older brother Leonard and his girlfriend, Miss Shin when they would go swimming at “Dirty Creek” and swing out over the water on a rope. Leonard was eleven years older than his younger brother. Freeland was the baby of the family at this time, and “ruled the roost” as he says.

 

The Johnson Boys, about 1921

Back row: L to R: Leonard Nicholas, Francis Eugene, Robert Owen

Front: William Freeland Johnson

Freeland remembers his dad as being quick to “back hand” the kids if they got out of line. As a consequence, Freeland was averse to saying much on their frequent drives to the town of Webbers Falls for fear of being “backhanded.” He would wait until they got to the “King and Hays” store in town before he would pester his father for candy. He figured out that his father would not “backhand” him in front of other people, so Freeland would wait until he was in conversation with friends and then pinch his dad on the back of his leg to get his attention, without fear of the dreaded “backhand.” “Gertie, I’m not taking this kid with me anymore” is what Freeland's father would say when they got home. “He pinched my leg until it was black and blue!”

Ch 2, West to Kentucky and Indian Territory

When the Revolutionary War ended, William Charles Johnson came into possession of the farm he had settled in Georgia. The old property laws that existed under British rule no longer applied and William Charles was now a Landowner. He married Anne Carter in 1785, and a few years later they started their family with the arrival of Samuel Johnson (b. 1790), Thomas C. Johnson (b. 1797), Alexander Johnson (b. 1798), Nancy Johnson (b. 1802), and William Johnson who was born in 1804.

With the influx of settlers after the Revolution, William Charles found it profitable to sell his farm. He yearned to return to the open land of Kentucky near where his father had been buried and in 1808, that is what he did. The family move a little farther north than the previous location at Boone’s Station, and settled on wooded farmland in what would later become Owenton, Kentucky. Here, the Johnson clan finally found the peaceful lifestyle that had eluded them for so long. The kids grew up and all homesteaded parcels of their own, and William Charles and his wife Anne Carter lived to the ripe old ages of 87 and 70, respectively.

In the meantime, William and Liddie (Raisor) Miller and their 3 year old daughter Mary Elizabeth had just arrived from Georgia in 1815, and settled on an adjacent farm near the Johnsons. Mary was only 16 when she married William Johnson Jr., and he was 24. They lived with his parents, William Charles and Ann Carter and inherited the farm when they both passed away. Together, William and Mary Elizabeth had eight children of their own. They were William (b. 1829), Obediah (b. 1833), Martha (b. 1838), Jonathan (b. 1840), Elisha (b. 1844), Olive (b 1847), Mary Elizabeth (b.1852), and Robert Owen Johnson who was born on May 18th, 1843.

 Robert Owen Johnson (1843-1931) and Nancy Jane Mefford (1849-1935)

All the children grew to adulthood on the family farm and were there when the differences between the North and the South threatened to erupt into war. Few of the family remained in Owenton, Kentucky during the Civil War era, as the state was sharply divided between the North and the South which created a situation that can only be described as neighbor against neighbor. When Robert Owen was 20, he traveled west to the town of Mayfield, Kentucky, where he met Cassandra Long. He married Cassandra and when she became pregnant, he took her back to the farm in Owenton Kentucky where Cassandra gave birth to Mary Elizabeth Johnson on the 23rd of December, 1864, just as the war was winding down. Sadly, Cassandra died during childbirth.

After the loss of Cassandra, Robert Owen married a second time on the 10th of March 1867, to Nancy Jane (Jennie) Mefford who was born on October 26th, 1849. The ceremony took place in the home of the bride’s father, John Quincy Mefford, and because Nancy Jane was only 17, her father had to sign a document giving his permission for the marriage.

Robert and Jennie had ten more children over the next twenty one years and they included John Nicholas (b. Oct. 15, 1867), Albert Sydney (b. March 13, 1870), Frank Joseph (b. April 24, 1872), Martha Ann (b. July 13, 1874), Thomas Jefferson (b. Aug. 13, 1877), Robert E. Lee (b. Nov. 13, 1880), Laura (b. Jul. 22, 1882), Edgar (b. Mar. 5, 1884), Ollie (b. Jun 13, 1888) and William Henry Johnson, born September 3rd, 1876.

 Robert and Jennies son, William Henry Johnson

(William Freeland's Father)

After several years, Robert Owen and Jennie left Kentucky, crossing the Mississippi River at Hannibal Missouri. They arrived by wagon and team in 1898 at a small town just south of Fort Smith Arkansas where their 22 year old son, William Henry met his future wife, Gertrude Bell Amos.

Gertrude Bell Amos, just prior to her death in 1933

Gertie Bell’s father, Michael Amos died when she was just a baby, and her mother, Susan (Mileham) Amos had remarried and started a whole new family. Gertie Bell was 18 when the Johnsons came through town, and she went with them when they crossed the Arkansas River and settled in Indian Territory (IT) near the town of Cowlington, where William and Gertie were officially married. Indian Territory and Oklahoma Territory were combined in 1907, and became the State of Oklahoma.

William, Gertie, and the rest of the Johnson clan continued their Westerly trek until they reached the town of Gore, Oklahoma where they started sharecropping. Always looking for a better opportunity, William and Gertie sharecropped at may locations in and around Muscogee, Oklahoma over the ensuing 20 years. During that time they had 10 children, beginning with Johnny who died at birth, then Edna (Sept. 24, 1901), Iva Mae (Oct. 11, 1903), Leonard (March 18, 1907), Lee M. (Oct. 8, 1908), Robert Owen (Dec. 15, 1911), Francis Eugene (Jan 11, 1914), one girl who was stillborn and was never named (July 16, 1920), Charles Sosbee (Sept. 4, 1922), and, the subject of our story, William Freeland (Aug. 16, 1918).

Ch 1, The Johnson Colonists

This is the story of William Freeland Johnson, his ancestry and decendents from his great, great, great grandfather Samuel Johnson, to his great granddaughter Kylee Alexis Chelbana and his great grandson Caden Robert Adams. It is a story that spans nine generations.

William Freeland Johnson today

As far back as Freeland knows, the Johnson clan began with his great, great, great grandfather, Samuel Johnson. Little is known about Samuel, but he and his wife settled Georgia as part of Lord Percival and General James Oglethorpe’s plan to clean up London by giving the unemployed and destitute an opportunity for a fresh start in the new colonies.

 General James Oglethorpe

Samuel and his wife (name unknown) arrived in the New World around 1750. By the time they arrived, the promise of the new colony’s hemp and silk production had faded, and the only hope for the new immigrants was subsistence farming. This might have been acceptable to Samuel, but the rules in the colony still required all male adults to join the militia, and to plant at least one “white mulberry” tree (a holdover from the silk experiment) per acre to validate grants of land. Furthermore, the land could not be sold or traded and could only be passed down to a male heir if that heir chose to farm it. Effectively, it was not possible to own land in Georgia. This fact, and the constant militia training and alert calls to thwart the threat of invasion by the Spanish to the south and the Indians to the west was enough motivation to cause many immigrants to relocate to other, more liberal colonies to the north.

In 1754, Samuel’s only son William Charles was born, it was the same year the French and Indians launched their campaign against the colonies. The family stayed on in the relative safety of the farm until the French and Indian War had been won. Thinking the end of the war would open up the land west of the Appalachians for immigrants, Samuel was prepared to pack up his family, give up his grant in Georgia, and move west, but much to his surprise, after the war, in 1763, the British ceded the land west of the Appalachians back to the Indians and, once again, Samuel found himself stuck on the land he could not own.

William Charles grew up on the farm in Georgia and the family was prospering when their world erupted in Revolution in 1776. Since the bulk of the revolutionary activities were taking place in the north, the Johnsons were effectively shielded from the war by distance. All was well until, in December of 1778, the British captured the nearby city of Savannah and brought the war very much closer to home for the Johnsons. With that event, Samuel packed up his family and belongings and joined a party led by Daniel Boone headed to Kentucky.

 The only known portrait of Daniel Boone, completed near the end of his life.  He was so feeble he had to be propped up for the sittings.

With the signing of the Treaty of Fort Stanwix wherein the Iroquois ceded their claim to Kentucky back to the British, settlers once again felt safe to venture west of the Appalachian Mountains. The party traversed the “Wilderness Trail” through the Cumberland Gap which had only been explored and opened up four years previously when Daniel Boone established Boonesborough.

This monument is at Boone's Station, Kentucky

Settling at Boone’s Station, the family finally felt “at home,” but Samuel could not escape the Revolution and the settlement was under constant threat from the Shawnee Indians who had not been a party to the Stanwix Treaty and had now sided with the British. Samuel joined the local militia, as did all male adults, and was killed in one of the Shawnee raids on the settlement in 1780.

William Charles buried his father at Boone’s Station, and for the sake of his mother, he moved back to the relative safety of Georgia. At about the same time, to escape the fighting to the north, Thomas Carter, his wife Elizabeth, and their daughter Anne arrived from North Carolina. Anne was 16 years old at the time, and William Charles was immediately enamored by this sprightly young lass. Anne’s parents, Thomas and Elizabeth were born in the town of Ottery, in Devonshire, England, just 45 miles northeast of Plymouth where the Pilgrims had sailed from in 1609. The young couple emigrated from Ottery to the colony of North Carolina in 1762.

Words

One of my pet peeves is word pronunciation. Not that I am a linguist by any stretch of the imagination, but at least we can work on the ones we know about. In a previous post I mentioned one of my favorites, NUCLEAR. The correct pronunciation is like “new-clear” and not “new-Q-lar.”

Another one that I have even heard mis-pronounced in movies is CAVALRY. The word is pronounced like “cav-all-ree” and not like “cal-va-ree.” Cavalry is a group of mounted soldiers, and Calvary is a hill near Jerusalem where Jesus was crucified.

Here is my favorite, and one that is almost universally mispronounced by everyone, as did I for many years, REALTOR. It is pronounced like “real-tor” and not like “real-a-tor,” as most of us do. Even folks who deal in realty (real-tee, not real-a-tee) screw this one up.

There are others, like the difference between ASK and AXE, but that is another story.

Have we come full circle?

It’s amazing how, with so few changes, the words of Thomas Paine, written during the American Revolution, can be made to represent the crisis we are in today.  Only the brackets are added/modified.

THESE are the times that try men's souls. The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of their country; but he that stands by it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman. Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly: it is dearness only that gives every thing its value. Heaven knows how to put a proper price upon its goods; and it would be strange indeed if so celestial an article as FREEDOM should not be highly rated. [Our president], with an army [of Czars] to enforce [his] tyranny, has declared that [he] has a right (not only to TAX) but "to BIND us in [Socialism]," and if being bound in that manner, is not slavery, then is there not such a thing as slavery upon earth. Even the expression is impious; for so unlimited a power can belong only to God.

Thomas Paine (1737-1809)

Mark Andrew Henderson

Leila Irene Mason, James Mason’s only daughter, and sister to Nelson Mason was born Thursday, February 15, 1883, at Dalton, Berkshire County, Massachusetts. She attended school in Cleveland, Council Bluffs and Omaha, and was graduated in Nurse’s training in the Nebraska City. She practiced her profession there and in Los Angeles. Following a number of years in California, she returned to Omaha and was married to Raymond Oliver Frederick Henderson. To this union there were born five sons and a daughter:

Paul David, Dec. 4, 1916 (died 2006)
King Elisha, Dec. 22, 1918 (My Father, died 2006)
Mark Andrew, August 24, 1920 (died 2009)
Eleanor Adams, born Dec. 6, 1921
Ralph Lewis, born Feb. 23, 1925 (died 1977)
William Raymond, born February 5, 1927, (Killed in action in 1945, during WWII, at Epinal, France)

Mark Henderson

Mark speaks with much bitterness about his father Raymond, who he described as a “lazy no-good lay-about,” a religious freak who turned his back on his wife and children and mooched off his brother Victor for most of his life. Raymond worked as a night watchman for the Adams & Kelly Lumber Co., a company that Mark says is still there today (2001).

In old age, Raymond Oliver moved to Minnesota to live because they paid the highest state pension. Mark recalls his father’s extraordinary efforts to avoid work. At a time when the standard was a ten-hour, six-day work week, his father decided he was too good to work on Saturdays, and later extended his work limitations to include sundown on Fridays.
He fondly recollects his uncle Nelson, an attorney in Bismarck North Dakota, who would pick up Marks mother Leila and the kids in his Model “T” on weekends and treat them to a day away from father Ray, who Leila’s brother detested. According to Mark, his mother Leila was always writing to her brother Nelson, and Mark perceived them as being very close. Nelson was always trying to convince his sister Leila to quit having more children and was always trying to help relieve their poverty with donations and whatever else he could afford. Eventually, because he had a wife and two children of his own to take care of, and because Leila continued to have more and more children, he became frustrated and unable to continue his charity.
Mark was eight years old in 1928 when he and his brothers King and Paul were put on a train and shipped to Eureka South Dakota. There, because of an advertisement in the flyer of the “7th day church of God,” three separate families of the church, who were referred to as “saints,” offered to take the children in and care for them. Paul went home with the “Schrenk” (a Russian name according to Paul) family, King went with Adam and Rose Straub, and Mark had the misfortune of being selected by Emanual Straub and his wife Albina. Mark tells of a miserable two years with the Straubs, where he was whipped with a rope, locked out in freezing weather, kicked in the stomach while shivering on the floor, and physically thrown around causing him to suffer many cuts and bruises. During this time, he said that he was only able to see his brothers on two occasions. Eventually, one of the seasonal workers on the annual harvest crew noticed Marks injuries and threatened to expose Emanual Straub’s cruelty to the authorities, whereupon the Straubs loaded Mark into an automobile and transported him back to Omaha and dumped him off.
Mark was ten by now and was able to find his way back to his old neighborhood and the house he used to live in near 17th or 18th, and Burt Street. He asked the neighbors if the Hendersons still lived there, and they reported that the father Raymond did. Mark waited until late afternoon for his father to return. When he did return, he said “Mark, is that you.” “Yes it is” replied Mark. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you” is the comment Mark recalls his dad making.
It was not long before mark was turned over to the Nebraska State Home for Dependent Children in Lincoln Nebraska. He spent the next four years being shuffled between there and the County Masonic Home (even though no members of his family were masons). He speaks of occasional visits to see his Uncle Oscar (scuff) Henderson, a man who Mark remembers with much fondness. Mark describes Uncle Oscar as one of the nicest, most wonderful persons he has ever know. Mark says it was wonderful to get away from the institution for a day or two and live with a real family, and it gave him a feeling of belonging.
By now, it was 1932, the depression was in full swing, the infamous “Dust Bowl” was ravaging much of the Midwest, and Mark was 12 years old. He had only completed the 5th grade in school, which was quite a surprise to the school officials when Mark enrolled. Mark remembers the school principal offering to enroll him in the 7th grade to save him the embarrassment of being “downstairs” with the little kids, but he also let Mark know that it would be his responsibility to exert the extra effort necessary to catch up. Mark was touched by this gesture of not putting him with the little kids. For one of the very few times in his life he realized he was with someone who actually cared about his feelings.
At some point, Mark took a test for graduation to High School, and was told by one of the school matrons that he had done poorly on the exam and that it would be better for him to pursue a vocation rather than to continue is education. She held Mark back and refused to allow him access to further education, until one day, Mark walked the seven miles to the state capitol where he intended to see the governor. Although the governor was not in that day, Mark noticed, by chance, the office of the State Superintendent of Schools, and waited several hours for him to return. While waiting, Mark related his dilemma to a secretary who then related the story to the Superintendent when he arrived. Mark asked the Superintendent to allow him to further his education, whereupon the Superintendent requisitioned Marks school records and found out that he had not only passed the graduation examination, but that he had scored very high. The Superintendent then called the matron who had been lying to Mark about his achievements, and “called her on the carpet” for what she had done. Mark does not relate the final outcome of that meeting, but he was allowed to enter High School, where he excelled at many sports. Because of his Height (over six feet) and years of work on the Straub farm, he was strong and broke the school record for the javelin throw as a freshman. As a freshman, he was rarely beaten in the 12 lb. shot-put event, and he was third best in the State of Nebraska as a Junior. As a Senior in High School, he took second place out of all the High Schools in Nebraska. When Mark was in his senior year in High School, he was taken in by the Havens family, who had heard about his athletic talents.

The Havens’ took Mark in for a year, a year that Mark describes as heaven on earth. Apparently, with the Havens’, he was exposed to another side of life, a side of better living standards, better acquaintances, better food and better clothing. The wealthy Havens family had inspired Mark to want better for himself, and based on his academic prowess, Mark earned acceptance into the University of Nebraska. Mark remembers his counselor was S. C. Blood. Marks financial resources did not allow him to remain at the University for long, and he soon borrowed $40 from a friend and headed for California.
Shortly after arriving in California, Mark enlisted in the military and joined his brother King who had just returned from Hawaii and re-enlisted. Brother Paul was still on his first tour of duty in Hawaii at this time, but was soon to join them at McClelland AFB. Mark was in California now and was surprised to learn that the Straub family (Emanual and his wife Albina) who had abused him so many years before, had also relocated to California. He paid a visit to them one night with the intention of doing both of them bodily harm, but was saved that experience by the intervention of his brother King. He wanted them to know what it felt like to be kicked in the stomach and whipped.
Mark was not in the military very long when he was noticed by one of his commanders, who told him that he should apply for Officers Training School (OTS). Mark impressed the selection board with letters of recommendation from the Mayor of Lincoln Nebraska, and one of Nebraska’s State Senators, and with the help of his Uncle Nelson, and Nelson’s son-in-law Al Pilson, he was soon on his way to becoming a Captain in the military. He recalls his time at OTS fondly, and relates that he graduated in the top ten percent of his class.

In the fall of 1940, he was stationed at Stockton, where he met and on Sept. 3, 1941, married Mabel Bateman of Sacramento, a native of Oklahoma.

Mark was stationed for a time at Pendleton, Oregon, and it was at that station that he was chosen for officers training at Camp Lee, near Petersburg, Virginia. Following completion of that course Mark was commissioned a 2nd Lieutenant.
Soon thereafter he was stationed at Rapid City, S. D. and twice was sent with a fleet of trucks to Bismarck to pick up essential equipment stored there by the defunct Worker’s Progress Administration. On the second trip Mabel accompanied him. Soon after being sent to England, he met his brother, King, and later Ralph. Mark was at Omaha Beach the day after D-Day, and had the responsibility for taking care of all those killed in action during that fateful assault. While stationed in France, he was promoted to the rank of 1st Lieutenant, in charge of trucks incidental to aviation. Mark and Mabel’s first child, Mark Andrew, Jr., was born Dec. 2, 1943 in Pittsburg, CA, and their second child William George on the 13th of September, 1946 in Berkely, CA. They made their first home in Concord California.
It was many years before Mark completed his education, but before he was finished he added the University of California at Berkley to his long list of credits. Mark has been a lifelong student and was 44 years old when he completed his formal education, in 1964.

Mark was a licensed pilot and loved to fly his own small aircraft. He made his career in the Real Estate and financial markets before he passed away on May 4th, 2009 in Auburn, CA.

Where is James?

The wanderlust afflicted James Mason, and he loved to roam far. A typical globetrotter who covered the English speaking world. Leaving his wife, Martha Ann, and his family he took his profession to the South Seas and spent nine years in Australia, two years in New Zealand and a year in Tasmania, “visiting every city, village and hamlet,” as he said. In the interim he made several trips back to the States, the last through the Indian Ocean and Suez Canal, thus circum-navigating the Globe. He said he had made and lost fortunes, being at one time worth 25,000 pounds Sterling, which he lost through speculation. Upon his home visits, Prof. Mason always wore a silk high hat, and on one occasion a velvet vest, buttoned with $5 gold pieces. In addition to lectures and readings on phrenology, he sold medicines of his own preparation, his best staple seller being Dr. Mason’s Arbor Vitae Oil.

Nelson Mason (1884-1959) and his wife Eva Gorton (1892-1929)

A Narrative about James Mason, by his son Nelson

In the spring of 1902, Father visited us on the farm [two miles south of (Delphos, Iowa?)]. He had returned to the U.S. via England and Canada. In Massachusetts he visited his brother, John, and family. Evidently he did not see his sister by the mother’s second marriage. He invited me to travel with him for a few weeks when school closed. So about the last of June, I took the Great Western [railroad] to Kansas City, transferring to Kearney, Mo. Father met me at the station and we walked to the hotel. A small porter was along and I learned he had once traveled with a midget troupe, but grew too large to be an attraction. A Dr. Gardner was with Father and in the evening we went to a street corner where a large platform was erected. Lectures were given on phrenology and the excellent properties of Dr. Mason’s Arbor Vitae Oil.

This was the home town of the notorious James boys. Frank, the older, was living at the hotel. He and his wife sat at the large boarding house table with us. He was a horse fancier and each summer trained and groomed a trotting horse he would sell in the fall at fancy prices. Then in winter he would take tickets at a St. Louis play house. One day I brought him his mail. He was a tall, wiry individual, then in his sixties. While he never mentioned his former life, he had told others he had put it out of his thoughts, and it was as though it had never been. One evening we [Father and I] walked out to the old James farm, three miles in the country, where an admission charge was made. There was the old log house with rifle holes on the second floor [It was built in 1822. Mr James took it over in 1845. Jesse was born Sept 5th, 1847 and shot by his fellow outlaws April 3, 1882 in (…..illegible side note). Just outside stood a great elm tree beside the grave of Jesse James. Two men could not reach around the gigantic sentinel. Jesse’s daughter [had] married a neighbor boy, named Barr, living close by. The old mother of the boys, Mrs. Samuels, who lived across the street at the other hotel, was said to have been quite put out that “the daughter of Jesse James would marry a Republican.” She had lost an arm and a little 8 year old son when a bomb was thrown into the old house by soldiers searching for the Frank & Jesse. Her second husband, Dr. Samuels, was once hanged, but she cut him down in time after the men had gone. Young Jesse Jr. lived in Kansas City, where he practiced law, and his daughter became an actress. On Wednesday he came in to make arrangements for the removal of his father’s body to the Kearney cemetery. This rite was performed the following Sunday [June 29,] a rainy day, but we had left town on Friday. [Mrs. Frank (Ana Ralston) James lived to the age of 91, dying July 6, 1944 at or near Excelsior Springs, Mo., she left a son, Robert.]

At Liberty, home of Wm. Jewell College, we stayed a week. We were then alone, so I took a turn at selling medicine in the crowd. At first I moved about so quietly that Father encouraged me by jokingly asking me where I had disappeared to when I finally got back for more of his fine liniment. On the evening of July 4, so much liquor flowed that we remained indoors to avoid the drunken brawls and street rioting. The Negroes hid themselves early, but a hapless Chinaman got his optic badly discolored for loitering too long. There being no one else to combat, the boozers [seemingly] could not resist bending flasks over one another’s craniums.

Then we went to Excelsior Springs, a health resort, continuing our work. The water was salt and sulphur. Having little to do by day, while Father was giving phrenological readings, I worked a couple of weeks at the Hotel Castle Rock, dispensing remedies evenings. Business was good. I longed for the home folks, however, and not being particularly needed there, I went back to the farm. Father, while apparently robust, told me he suffered a great deal from a pain in the back of his neck [lined out-causing the muscles and tendons to become stiff and sore.]. I have wondered if this did not ultimately result in his demise. He was a very dynamic speaker, a trifle shorter than I, but much heavier. With his heavy hair and flowing sandy beard, he was known by everybody right after reaching a town.

Father and I kept in touch with each other. He wrote me many beautiful letters filled with advice and suggestions I have treasured through the years and passed along. In the five weeks we were together, we got to know each other better and the experience was valuable from an educational standpoint. Long a successful salesman, he was very fond of the book “Twenty Years of Hustling,” and presented me with a copy on my nineteenth birthday. He said the writer’s [author] experiences were the closest duplication of his own possible. He had a small star tattooed on one forearm. Asking him about it, he said as a boy at sea he had it done, thinking it was smart, and that now he cautioned against such disfigurements of the person. Among his interesting observations in the South Seas, he once saw a kangaroo leaping along a highway, paralleling their train. The odd creature was keeping up with the engine. Father enunciated a doctrine worthy of emulation. He said: “When considering a purchase, I always ask myself the question, ‘Do I really need it?’” [This I have amplified somewhat to, “Can I do without it?”].

Father was spending some time in San Francisco and making plans to go to Mexico. He contemplated entering the medical profession, being qualified under the laws there to enter that field. On April 18, 1906 [at 5:13 A.M.,] a great earthquake rocked the city. It was a relief when a telegram came saying he was safe. Then he wrote saying that while asleep in his suite of rooms on Market Street he was rudely awakened by a heavy piece of masonry falling on his hip. Being a man of peaceable disposition, as he said, he wondered why the onslaught. He was not kept long in doubt as other pieces began to fall. Dressing hurriedly he left the building a few minutes before it collapsed, and threading his way through panic-stricken crown and between swaying buildings he reached safety. All his equipment, books, instruments and other materials so painstakingly gathered were gone, so he gave up going to Mexico.

Father in 1908 was traveling by team and buggy in Oklahoma and invited me to spend the summer with him. Having made arrangements to go into the furniture store I could not well accept. I wish of course we might have been together more. Father had been keeping in touch with me right along, and I heard from him in October. That was the last word ever had of him. Persistently through the years I wrote to firms and friends he had been associated with, but the trail ended there. A Prof. M Tope had known him in Australia and recalled that Father was an accomplished violinist. None, however, had heard from him since about the time I did. I was forced to believe some sad mishap had befallen him and he was gone.

Martha Scott and James Mason

 The marriage of Martha C. Cooper and William Addison Scott produced three children, of which only two survived beyond infancy, William Hamline Scott, and Martha Ann Scott. The third child, Charles Wesley Scott, did not survive to his first birthday.

Martha Ann (Scott) Mason, (1858-1939)

Much of what is written here is the product of Martha Ann Mason's son, Nelson Mason.  Nelson started these family files in 1935 and the writing is his.  My (Robert Henderson) uncle, Mark Andrew Henderson, ended up with them and passed them on to me about 5 years before he died in 2009.   I have added very little to Nelson's original work except for the information given to me by my uncle Mark in a telephone conversation in 2004.

Martha Ann Scott was born Sept. 10, 1858, at Indianapolis, 14 miles northeast of Oskaloosa, Iowa, where her father was the Methodist pastor. Following in the footsteps of her parents, she became a teacher, and taught in Pottawattamie and Mills counties. While attending Normal (Institute) at Glenwood, she met Frank Fair, penmanship teacher of Oakland. They eloped to adjoining Fremont County and were married. They had one son, Frank Scott Fair, born on the farm midway between Emerson and Henderson, Iowa. Shortly thereafter, Frank Fair, Sr., died in Kansas.

James Mason (1856-?)

Enrolling at the American Institute of Phrenology in New York City, Martha met James Mason, also a teacher. James’ father, John Mason was a carpenter residing in Boston, a man standing nearly six feet in height. His wife was of Irish lineage and very probably was one of those who came to Boston from Ireland in the great Irish migration of 1847, due to the potato famine. To this union there were born two sons: James, born January 23, 1856, in Boston, and John, Jr., two years younger. The father was a protestant; the mother, Catholic. When the boys were respectively eleven and nine years of age, John Mason, while building a house in rainy weather, contracted a cold and pneumonia, and soon his family was left to face life as best they might.

James Mason accepted employment on a farm. Here finding the duties imposed upon him unduly strenuous he wrapped his few belongings in a handkerchief and ran as fast and far as breath would permit. Then he proceeded into the city and, next morning shipped out of Boston harbor as a sailor. Following the sea for several years he returned to Boston finding his mother married again and with a young daughter. His brother John was comfortably settled with an uncle.

Striking out toward the west he stopped overnight at the Bardin farmstead at Dalton, Mass. Then a husky lad of seventeen he was offered work on the farm and accepted. Having had little opportunity for education he took advantage of the rural school facilities. Unable then to divide by long division he nevertheless made such rapid progress that he was the local teacher two years later. Town reports state he taught at the South, the East, and the North schools, and lastly at the Grammar school in the village during the years 1878 – 79 and 80. The reports indicate “he gave excellent satisfaction to all concerned.” In the census of 1880 James Mason is found at Dalton, a school teacher, with birth-place of both parents given as Ireland. This probably was true in the case of the mother, but not of the father. The Bardins doubtless gave this to the census enumerator during James’ absence at school and as their best guess. He was there in 1883, as indicated by Irene’s birth certificate obtained from the town clerk. He united with the Congregational Church of Dalton.

Learning of the science of Phrenology, James went to New York City, enrolling at the American Institute of Phrenology, later known as Fowler & Wells, from which he was graduated November 12, 1880. Here he met Martha Scott Fair, slender brunette of Sandyville Iowa. They met again in Denver, Colo., where on June 1, 1882, they were married at the home of the bride’s maternal uncle and aunt, Isaac and Sarah Cooper. Everybody said it was an ideal match. James was a man of fine bearing, fair, ruddy complexion, blue eyes and aquiline nose, with heavy, straight brown hair and sandy whiskers. It was popular then to wear a beard and his plans to be a world traveler and health lecturer clinched his decision to allow no razor to come upon his face from the age of 19 to 49. He was 5 feet, 8 inches in height, reaching a maximum weight of 220 pounds. He became a dynamic, forceful public speaker.

Upon their marriage James and Martha Mason went to Dalton, Mass., where he resumed teaching. There on February 15, 1883, a daughter, Irene Leila, was born. Determining to enter upon his profession of phrenology, then at its height, Prof. Mason moved with his family to Cleveland, Ohio, traveling out from there. They made their home last at 250 Oregon Street, where an elderly widow, Mrs. McKay, resided. The city Engineer’s office advises that this is now [ca. 1940] 2136 Rockwell Avenue. The Cleveland directory for 1884 shows: “MASON, James, Phrenologist, 376 St. Clair,” and “McKay, Esther, wid. John, r. 250 Oregon.” They resided at this address when the writer [Nelson Mason] joined the family on January 18, 1884.

A letter from James E. Bardin of Dalton, dated February 2, 1928, says relative to the life of James Mason:

He worked on the farm, studied, went to night school and picked up education to teach a country school. He taught in three districts here in Dalton. I went school to him. He went to an academy at Wilbraham, Mass. – (this undoubtedly was Wilbraham Academy, an old institution still in a prosperous condition. It is in the nature of a college preparatory school.) He then taught the grammar or high school a few years, boarding at home and riding back and forth on a wooden velocipede. While teaching in this school he would go to a professor in Williams College, in Williamstown, Mass., for special instructions. (This is a nonsectarian men’s school, high in the Berkshires, and operated by a private corporation. Here the Institute of Human Relations held sessions in 1935, 1937 and 1939 [The 1939 session, under the auspices of the National Conference of Christians, and Jews, was the largest group of Protestants, Jews and Roman Catholics ever to assemble in the history of the world.] Then became interested in phrenology and went to school in New York for a year, - went on a lecture tour of the west, headquartering for a time at Bozeman, Montana.

Mr. Mason worked out a butter stamp or mould that would cut and stamp butter from tub or as made. These mould were made in different sizes from individual prints—one-half pound and pound cakes. One was made for cutting pound cakes of lard, which was not successful because lard is so sticky. While in this business his headquarters were at home. The wooden stamp was made in a nearby town, and the other parts were made and nickeled in Waterbury, Conn. (Several moulds are still in the family attic at Dalton.) On his way from the west he married Martha A. Scott of Iowa. They came home and my parents helped them get started in housekeeping in one part of a neighbor’s home. Irene was born there February 15, 1883.

After that Mr. and Mrs. Mason moved to Cleveland, Ohio, which is the last we knew of them for a while. Some years later we received a letter, signed by James Mason from a city in eastern Massachusetts, stating that he had fulfilled his heart’s desire to go around the world, and would call and see us but we never saw him. One other thing, he worked with the Board of Assessors one year with my father, making out the taxes for the town, for Mr. Mason was a good penman. (He had taught penmanship.) I saw the book last summer as I was looking back for records. I am now on the Board of Assessors. His brother, John, lived here a short time when James was away. He was a laborer on the railroad.

Westward Ho!, Coopers and Scotts

On his mother’s side, Marks ancestors can be traced to Peter and Ann (King) Cooper. On their wedding day, or soon thereafter, in 1831, Peter and Ann (King) Cooper left their home in England, setting sail for America. Accompanying them were her mother, two sisters, Charlotte and Sarah; and young brother, John, aged nine.

PETER COOPER (1805-1886)

Peter Cooper, born Sept. 21, 1805, in Preston, Lancashire, was a stonecutter by trade, as was his brother, William, founder of the Cooper Marble works of Buffalo, N.Y.

ANN KING (1811-1858)

Ann King, born March 18, 1811, was the daughter of a drum major in the British Army. The family home is believed to have been either in Leicester, Leicestershire, or at nearby Strafford-on-Avon, home of Wm. Shakespeare.
Landing in New York harbor, after their long voyage by sailing vessel, the Cooper and King families made their home in “The Village.” There it was expected that they would soon be joined by Mr. King, Ann’s father, and the two or perhaps three other brothers, who had fully expected to follow, as the father planned to retire from the British Army. Unfortunately the well laid plans of the King family did not materialize, due to several unforeseen circumstances. Soon after the landing in New York City, the great cholera plague swept the metropolis. Mrs. King, Ann’s mother, was an early victim of its fury and, as required for the protection of the living, was buried immediately. Mr. King was unable to obtain his discharge, and may have died early. With the mother gone, correspondence lagged. It is said that one or two of the boys later came to America, but all were lost track of through the years. John King remained with his sisters, Mrs. Ann Cooper, Mrs. Charlotte Sutton and Mrs. Sarah Peck.
During their residence in New York, Peter and Ann Cooper’s first child, Martha, was born on May 18, 1832. Their eldest son, Theophilus, from census records, also appears to have been born in the Metropolis. The families next removed to Philadelphia, where Peter Cooper continued working at his trade; that of a stone-cutter and stone-mason. There, on October 7, 1836, another son, Peter, Jr., was born.
Following along those paths where his trade led him, we next find the Coopers and Kings at Joliet, Illinois, a few miles southwest of Chicago. Isaac, Lydia, Watson [Richard] and William joined the family circle there. In the midst of a very busy life, Peter Cooper was very active in his work of a lay minister, preaching throughout the region.
John King, then in his late 20’s, went on to California, joining in the gold rush of 1849 to the San Francisco area. Upon making a sizeable “stake” he returned to his sisters and families, interesting them in the gold country of the Pacific. In a short time we find the Cooper, Peck and Sutton families (Ann’s sisters Charlotte and Sarah, had married Mr. Sutton and Mr. Peck respectively) bound for ‘Frisco,’ via prairie schooner. As evidence of the primitive modes of travel of those earlier years by covered wagon, family legend tells of the cows of the caravan being milked, and the morning milk, placed on the shady side of the wagon boxes. From the constant jolting of the wagons lumps of butter would form in the containers before evening.
Thus, in June, 1851, the travel-weary company reached Kanesville (now Council Bluffs), Iowa. Due to illness the Coopers were unable to continue their journey. Other complications ensued, and there being an abundance of work in his trade at “The Bluffs”, Mr. And Mrs. Cooper decided to make their home in the Missouri River “boom town.” Peter Cooper thus preached the first sermon – other than Mormon – in council Bluffs, and their daughter, Martha, taught the first school. There, too, the youngest child Cornelius “Neal” joined the family.

It was in Council Bluffs, Iowa that the Cooper’s oldest daughter Martha C. met and married her husband, William Addison Scott. William was descended from his father, Dr. Solomon Johnson Scott (1798-1893), and his grandfather John Gilmore Scott (1773-1798), both of Nova Scotia. John Gilmore Scott died at a young age of Yellow Fever. Dr. Solomon Johnson Scott traveled far and wide and was a well respected doctor of his time. His travels eventually landed him in Sherman, Texas, where he passed away at the age of 75.

MEMOIR OF MARTHA C. SCOTT

[By her husband, William A. Scott]

"Martha Cooper Scott was born in New York City, May 18, 1832, and died of complicated puerperal peritonitis, January 18, 1861, near Magnolia, Iowa, in the twenty-ninth year of her age.

The subject of this memoir was blessed with religious parents, her father, Rev. Peter Cooper, having been for years an effectual and useful local preacher in the M E. Church. As a consequence her religious impressions began early, and in her sixteenth year, on New Year's Eve, she joined the M. E. Church, under Rev. W. Palmer in Chicago; where she was attending school. The writer's acquaintance with her began in 1852, at Council Bluffs, Iowa, which resulted in our marriage on April 24, 1853.

About two years after our marriage we entered the itinerancy. Our first work was Magnolia Mission, Iowa Conference, where we traveled a year, and made many warm friends, who proved their devotion by administering to her in her last sickness. Our last work was Indianapolis circuit, Iowa conference, over two hundred miles distant, and in order to go to it, she must leave all her friends and go among strangers. How hard is the lot of the itinerant's wife.

During this year her health began to fail, and was never good to her death. Last spring we journeyed to the Rocky Mountains, which seemed beneficial, but proved delusive. About three weeks before she died her little infant preceded her to the "blessed land." She has left her husband and two little children to mourn her early departure; but we mourn not as those who have no hope. Little Willey, the oldest, who is nearly five years old, says his "ma has gone to help the lord take care of the little baby." The day before her departure, having been to all appearance dead, she suddenly aroused from her lethargy and commenced praising God aloud, and told , while her face beamed with heavenly radiance, of having seen the glories of heaven. She describe its beauties with rapture, and longed to be back again, and said that in a few hours she would b e gone, and exhorted us to meet her in heaven, Shortly after, delirium came on, during which she sang sweetly and pathetically.

Thus a beautiful life was ended, the sad event taking place at Magnolia, Harrison County, Iowa, 35 miles north of Council Bluffs. Some years later her brothers arranged for re-burial beside the sainted mother in the little rural cemetery, a mile east of Hillsdale. Her son, William H. Scott, has erected a red granite memorial to her memory, reading: "Martha C. Scott, May 18, 1832-Jan. 18, 1861"