• The last few days…

    The past few days have been eventful ones.  Doug and I spent a cold, windy, Midwest Friday afternoon traipsing through his family cemetery and checking on names, birth dates and death dates from the tombstones for his “family tree”.  I confess to enjoying the family history clue chase…even if they aren’t my personal ancestors!  We also copied photos of his family’s ancestors to create a book for his 95 year old mother.  We did find one photo on Ancestry.com of his grandmother when she was young and his great-grandmother.  It was actually a photo his mother had never seen!  She loved it and, of course, recognized her mother and grandmother immediately.  I’m glad I was there to see her happy reaction…much like mine would be if I could find photos of my ancestors online that I had never seen!

     

     

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    We spent Saturday helping my daughter and her family out at their new six-acre farm site complete with big red barn dating back to the late 1800’s, 62 apple trees, large garden site and a long stand of black walnut trees.  Doug and my son-in-love worked hard taking a large portion of an old tree down…a tree that was growing around a pup tent that had been in it for years!  My oldest grandson worked hard hauling limbs and brush back to the burn pile.  My daughter had prepared homemade chicken noodle soup the evening before.  I stayed with the three youngest grandchildren and got the cornbread ready for our lunch.  After lunch, we headed back out to the farm.  My two youngest grandchildren and I helped haul branches.  It’s going to be a beautiful place for their new farm house!

     

    Doug sawing on a large fallen branch.
    My oldest grandchild hauling one of many fallen tree limbs to the burn pile.

     

    Huge conifer by the driveway.

     

    My daughter with her new toy on the apple orchard farm.

     

    A view of the apple orchard…

     

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    Sunday morning began with a lovely church service and then to Walmart to buy items to fill two Operation Christmas Child boxes…one for each of us.  I think we’ll specify two girls – one in Brazil (he supports a young girl in Brazil named Eduardo) and one in Peru.  If we pay the $7.50 shipping fee online through Operation Christmas Child, we will be able to see where the boxes are delivered.  I think that would be neat!

    Afterwards, we headed out to his house where we began preparations for a dinner party on Sunday evening – for his 95 year old Mom and her primary caregiver, Joan.  We were very much looking forward to it!  I had put the roast in about thirty minutes earlier and was getting ready to prepare the winter roasted vegetables.  I had unloaded the dishwasher then did something that changed the course of events…and I knew better!  Years before, my mother had fallen over an opened dishwasher door and broken her hip, so I knew better.  But I left the dishwasher door down and left the kitchen to ask Doug if he had a pan for the vegetables.  He followed me back inside to look for a pan – about ten feet behind me.  I had forgotten the dishwasher door was down and my eyes were not adjusted coming back indoors from outside.  In less than a split second, I tripped over the dishwasher door and went flying across the kitchen…landing with the right side of my face and head – not to mention my right knee and the right side of my body – hitting the closed oven door with full impact!  My glasses slammed into my nose and broke.

    Needless to say, Doug flew to my side, scared to death of what he would find.  After determining I could move and eventually stand up, we headed to the Methodist Hospital Emergency Room – a level I trauma center!  Although they did not have a room at the moment and there were five people in front of us, they managed to get me in rather quickly.  They put me through Cat Scans of my head, neck, chest and back…and x-rayed my painful right knee.  With a history of neck and back surgery in the past, they were not taking any chances.  THANKFULLY, nothing was broken!   Guess I’m a pretty tough cookie after all.

    So a word to the wise:  never, ever leave the dishwasher door open!

     

    Feeling the effects of pretending to be Wonder Woman and flying through the air!   Not planning on doing this again anytime soon!    Can’t believe he took a pic of me in a cervical collar!  😉

     

  • My GGGG-Grandfather & the Scottish Referendum…

    Yesterday was a huge day in Scottish history.  With a fairly close vote, the citizens of Scotland made the historic decision to remain part of the United Kingdom.  No doubt, you were reading about it and following along, as I was, as the votes rolled in.

    The McGregor Crest: “Royal is my race”.

    My GGGG-Grandfather, Rev. William McGregor, was born about 1732 in Scotland in what our family history legend refers to as “Ossian’s Glen”.  The closest thing that I can find after many years of research is called Glen Coe, supposedly the birthplace of Ossian.  You can read more about the history of it here.  Some of my fellow McGregor descendants believe that our immigrant ancestor William McGregor was born in Perth, but I do not.  At that time in history, the Clan McGregor dwelled in the highlands of Scotland.  They were also a warring clan – defending their rights and property from the likes of the Clan Campbell and others.  The McGregors have a long history of enduring, persevering and overcoming – even to the point of having the use of their name proscribed or prohibited.  It’s a long, involved history and one I am still working on after all these years.

    If William McGregor’s father fought in the 1745 to 1746 Jacobite uprising, William would have just been a boy so it’s doubtful that he would have been called upon to fight.   One immigration record indicates that a William McGregor arrived in North Carolina in 1745.  If he had been born in 1732, he would have been just a teenage boy.  Did he accompany his parents?  We know from tracing the ancestors from the present backwards, that our William McGregor became a Baptist preacher who settled in Montgomery County, North Carolina.  I’ve studied the papers from his work as a Baptist preacher which are housed at Wake Forest University.   I’ve been to his home which has been restored because he sold the house and the land to the first physician in North Carolina.  I’ve seen his ancient grave marker as well as the new one which has been placed there.  I want to know more but there are obstacles.  I’ve been to the County Courthouses in North Carolina only to find out that most records burned during the Revolutionary War and/or the Civil War.

    As each vote was being cast in answer to the question at the poll:  “Do you want to remain a part of the United Kingdom?”, I wondered what my highland McGregor ancestors would have had to say about it.  Especially after the Battle of Culloden.  Granted, it has been 300+ years and life is calmer in the highlands now.  Still, I wonder.  I have a pretty good idea though!

    My goal for the Iowa blizzards this winter is to continue working on this family history…and finally getting the story written!

     

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    Above:  Rev. William McGregor’s rebuilt home in Morrow Mountain State Park in Stanly County, North Carolina.

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    The McGregor Tartan.

     

    I’ve also written about my McGregor ancestor in an earlier post.

    If you’re wondering how he could “only” be my GGGG-grandparent with being born circa 1732, it’s because I am the youngest of 4 daughters, born to the youngest of seven children.  Previous grandfathers were also close to being the youngest in each family.

  • Happy Fourth of July…

    Happy Fourth of July!  Today has been a quiet day with more than my share of reflection.  The 4th of July always brings back memories for me.  Mama’s birthday was the fourth of July.  It  was always a time of reunion and a big celebration for our family.  Now, my parents are in Heaven and their descendants are scattered – mostly across the South except for my family which are in Montana, Iowa and Texas.  (My youngest keeps reminding me that I gave them roots and wings.)

    The Patriot” with Mel Gibson came out in the year 2000.  I did not/would not/could not see the movie until, finally, earlier this year I watched in tears.  Somehow I knew that the movie would have a profound effect upon me.  It did.  I had been searching my family’s history back through the generations and knew that several of my ancestors had fought and died in the American Revolution.

    It’s one thing to read about this nation’s history and fight for freedom in a textbook’s black and white, but to see the bloody sacrifice orchestrated across a screen is another thing altogether.  The fight for our freedom continued through other wars down through the years.  That fight continues today.  I’m thankful for those who have given and continue to give so much that we may enjoy the freedom that we have.

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    My daughter and her husband and their family are in Kentucky visiting his parents, so I spent the afternoon and early evening with my friend and neighbor downstairs who was also alone for the day.  She prepared a delicious meal of garlic rosemary chicken and potato salad.  I’ve been battling a bulging disc in my neck with the pain that accompanies it, so she insisted that I come empty-handed and hungry.  There were strawberries and ice cream for dessert.  When I’m feeling better, I will reciprocate with a meal she will hopefully enjoy as much.

     

  • Autumn days…

    The weather has turned cool here at last.  The trees are finally wearing their Autumn shades of gold, crimson, deep ruby and russet orange. It is time to drag out the sweaters and place a warmer blanket on the bed.  My favorite time of year, Autumn makes me happy.  It brings back memories of harvest festivals of years gone by…apple picking…apple dumplings…homemade apple pies.

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    My daughter purchased two bushels of apples, and tomorrow I will help her turn those apples into delicious apple butter!  Years ago, when we lived in Indiana, my sisters and my niece Sharon came for a visit.  We traveled to Nashville, Brown County, Indiana.  It’s a wonderful little town with quaint shops, resident artists and wonderful food.  There, at the Nashville House Dining Room in the historic Brown County Inn, I had some of the best oven baked apple butter I have ever tasted.  I came home and tried to duplicate it and actually came close.  Now, years later, they actually share the recipe here!

    Tonight, I will go with my daughter and her family to “The Great Pumpkin Party” at church…just as we did last year.  The large church is equipped all over (indoors) with all sorts of fun events for children – including different “jumping” houses and games.  There are also pony rides outside.  They love it and it is so much fun!

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    My thanks to those of you who’ve stuck with me through this “postless” last month.  Excuses?  I’ve been traveling and spending time with precious grandchildren – both near and far.  These days, I am also traveling back in time as I spend hours working, once again, on my family history.  Yesterday, I found myself missing Dot, my late oldest sister and the one who dreamed of being able to trace our ancestors as far back as possible.  We were actually “stuck” on Mama’s maternal grandmother, Mary Frances Cooper.  I wrote for her death certicate.  Fifteen years ago – that was how you had to do it.  There were a few clues but also the wrong first initial of her father.  The information about her was being given over the telephones of yesteryear.  Her father’s first name was Vincent.  My Dad was listed as the informant and gave the individual asking for the information the letter “V”.  Over the phone, “V” can sound like “B” and that’s what they wrote down!  In the old days, they used a lot of initials for first names and that can throw a curve.

    Yesterday, I finally traced Mary Frances Cooper’s family all the way back to her immigrant ancestor and my 6th great-grandfather, William Cooper, who was born in 1669 in Warwickshire, England!  He immigrated to America and arrived in Virginia with his wife Elizabeth Lawrence in 1718!  The find was so bittersweet…for I wanted to share it with Dot.  I hope she knows.  There are more branches of this family tree to complete now.

    I’m rather surprised to say that THIS is my one-hundredth post!  I’m looking forward to sharing more of my Sweet Journey Home and I thank you for following along with me…

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  • A mystery in Scotland…

    I wonder if the same thing that makes me wish I’d been an FBI agent is the same deep thing that makes me love a mystery?  Finding clues, sorting them out and solving a mystery is more than just a challenge – it’s actually intriguing.  This time, I’m talking about searching out clues in my family history.  Years ago, my late sister Dot had the dream of finding our ancestors.  I joined her in the exciting search.  It didn’t take a whole lot of imagination to know that with the last name of McGregor, our ancestors had come from Scotland.

    We began the journey back through the years and enlisted the help of our other two sisters.  The four of us traveled to the archives of Mississippi and various other libraries.  We wrote many letters requesting information from archives in several states.  Amidst the laughter on each trip we’d take, we discovered answers – in birth records, death records, marriage records, old newspaper clippings and family Bibles.  You would have thought we’d won the lottery when we “proved” a date or name.  There are three large rubbermaid containers stacked next to my chest in my bedroom…filled with several years worth of hard work.  I purposely did not put them in the storeroom for a good reason:  they’re there to remind me that I must finish this family history.  When the snow starts to fall in a few months, I will rejoin Ancestry.com and begin the journey back through time once again.

    Several years ago, my husband and I were traveling through North Carolina where my immigrant ancestor, Rev. William McGregor, had lived almost 300 years ago now.  There at the foot of Fall Mountain, he built a homestead – complete with a sturdy log house and outbuildings.  He established a large apple orchard.  He “preached in the meeting houses of America”…which had been his reason for coming to America in the first place.   He sold his home and land to Dr. Kron, the first physician of North Carolina.  The house has been rebuilt as an exact replica and is in Morrow Mountain State Park in Stanly County, North Carolina. 

    It was somehow humbling, yet awe-inspiring, to stand on the land of my ancestor, a Baptist preacher from Scotland (there weren’t a lot of Baptists in Scotland at that time).   I stood on the porch of his home and wondered where the answers lie.  So many of the actual records burned in fires over the years according to the archives there in Stanly County.  There are hundreds of his descendants who are searching – as I am.  Supposedly, Rev. William McGregor was born in Ossian’s Glen, Scotland.  Other records indicate he came from the Isle of Skye. 

    The mystery lies in Scotland but there is much to prove here first.  This is just part of the mystery that I will be working on this Winter, when the snow begins to fall…

     

    Below:  The front of Rev. William McGregor’s house in Morrow Mountain State Park, Stanly County, NC…

     

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    Below:  The  back of Rev. William McGregor’s log house in Stanly County, NC 

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     Below:  The back door of Rev. William McGregor’s house…wmmcgregor3