Caroline E. McGowin Mancil (Callie)

One of my first posts here was about my great grandmother, Callie. My grandfather Jake had told us that her real name was Caroline but on her marriage and death certificates etc. all I found was Callie. I cannot find any kind of birth record for her. There are a few places that have her listed as the daughter of James McGowin II and his second wive Virginia Sanks but after some research, Virginia is too young to be her mother. Her death certificate lists her as the daughter of Sam McGowin. I am in touch with Sam's descendants and trying to see if they know who her father is as she is not listed on any roster of his family. Her youngest son George said it was known amongst her children that she was disinherited for marrying her husband, James Bryant Mancil who was called Tobe. I would like to solve that mystery. I have been able to solve some of the other mysteries surrounding this woman. Firstly, we knew that she had been killed by her son-in-law, Angus Graham. We never knew what happened to him or where she was buried. I believe her daughters knew but my grandfather was very young when she was killed and I'm not sure if he asked. Talking about her made him quite nervous. I learned from his youngest brother George's daughter that George witnessed her death and my grandfather might have as well. My grandfather talked of the killer being married to his sister Ruby. I wondered if Angus had ever been tried. After much searching I was able to find a blurb that he was acquitted on the grounds that he was not sane at the time. A year later I find him still married to Ruby living in Pensacola. Ten years later he has been divorced and remarried with two young children. I wonder if he ever thought about Callie and the damage he caused to her children. Her husband married a much younger woman and his younger children were sent to live with family elsewhere. My grandfather never spent another day as a student after that. If he even set foot in that house again I am not aware of it. What kind of a person could shoot their mother-in-law in front of her young child (or children) and leave her there to die? But I digress..... A short time ago I found out where Callie was buried, McCurdy Cemetery in Century, Fla. I wondered why she was there and not in the McGowin cememtery near her home? There were many entries for Find a Grave but none for her or her deceased children (I knew at least one was buried with her, Ruby, who died at age 30.) I emailed the person who had taken most of the photos and asked if he was in the area if he could verify for me that Callie had a stone and possibly take a photo of it. I was elated this morning to receive the news that he had not only taken a picture of Callie's stone but pictures of three of her children's stones as well. That gave me more information on two of her children. This is a photo of her stone:

The inscription is so perfect for her. "Rest mother, rest in quiet sleep while friends in sorrow o'er you weep." I love that it says MOTHER on the stone. It's been nearly 100 years since her death but she lives on in me. So, it's Thanksgiving. I wasn't feeling well today and I didn't make a big dinner. The day seemed kind of gloomy until I received this wonderful gift from a stranger. Thank you kind sir, thank you. A part of me will rest easier knowing that my great grandmother has this stone and has four of her children with her.

The Value of Photos and Memories

I am living through the remnants of a nightmare here in New Jersey. While we were fortunate and only lost a windowsill and lived without power seven or eight days there are many who are trying to pick up the pieces and move forward. Most Jersey people, like our New York natives are pretty tough. We rallied after 9/11 and jumped to support our neighbors who had commuted to New York and were the victims as well as their families. Right now many from my town are going down to the worst hit areas and sorting through what can be salvaged and taking food, toys, blankets etc. to those people. My mother attends a local church and the assistant pastor there lives near a river and was hard hit. They were evacuated the day before and will not be able to return to their homes for months, if ever. They are still waiting for an insurance adjuster to make that determination. Last night we went over to help them get their new lap top and printer set up temporarily. They are staying in an apartment, part of my mother's home until they can find something more permanent. While there Joyce was painstakingly removing photos from a waterlogged album and placing them between paper towels to dry. This particular photo album contained a lot of information about her family which related to the pictures on each page. Most touching was the picture of her (she was 8) and her older siblings. Next to it was a large newspaper clipping about a tractor incident which claimed her father's life. She was telling me how her mother had to hire someone to run the dairy farm and split the profits with him. That left her mother with $13 for the week. Her mother had a small book which had the amounts of every penny she spent. Rice crispies were 13 cents a box then. She then shared something with me that she found that the piano lessons she so loved were 50 cents a week. That was a lot of her mother's small budget. She never knew and her mother continued giving them to her. There was also a picture of a lovely coat. As she had gotten older she learned that had been an adult coat that her mother took apart and remade for her. The collar yoke had a stain and her mother embroidered flowers to cover the stain and then matched them on the other side as well. I felt so enriched to be sharing these stories and photos of her history. Once again the importance of these things hit me. Her mother is long gone, as is the coat but she is keeping the memory alive. I saw her grandparent's wedding photo. It was a wonderful experience to share this with her. I think she enjoyed it too. Her furniture can be replaced, so many things can but these photos and stories are priceless and cannot. I'm so happy she was able to preserve them.

Back Again Soon

There has been a brief hiatus. I live in Central New Jersey where the hurricane hit us. We were without power over five days. It was restored but I am left with an empty refrigerator, freezer and five loads of laundry to do. We are on gas rationing for now. I plan to be back soon. Keep the families of New Jersey in your prayers.Many are still without power or food, some have flooded or missing homes.

Oh Happy Day

Today would have been my father's 90th birthday. I really thought when he was in his early eighties he would get there. He was still chopping firewood and going strong. It wasn't until his first stroke about three years ago that he began to change. After the initial one, he was just confused about math. The second stroke about 8 months later did a lot more to him. He was in a rehab facility and could still speak although he was agitated. He was having physical therapy one day when he had the last, serious stroke. I happened to be at the hospital for lab work when my cel phone rang and my mother called to say they were bringing him there by ambulance. My heart pounded as I thought that he probably would never be the same since he hadn't relly recovered from the first. When he arrived in the ER he was trying to comfort me. They did a CT scan and the doctor told me right away that there was much more damage and that within days he would decline, and he did. Each day we lost a small part of him. He had lucid moments but they got fewer and fewer. My mother took him home as we knew that is where he wanted to be. I was afraid that she wouldn't be able to handle it, she was in her late 70s. There were health care aides there three times a day. He was as helpless as a baby by the end. It was torture to see my strong father like this. About a week before he died I knew that the end was near. No one wanted to believe me in the family. He died peacefully in his sleep at the age of 87. I thank God for that. When I got the call at 4 a.m. I knew what was coming. We went to see him before they came to take him away. It was surreal. I couldn't wish him back though. He would never have wanted to be like that. When I think of him I try to remember when he was younger and full of life. I miss him so much. I never knew it would be so hard to let go. Even though I knew it was the best thing for him it was so hard. My world felt less secure. This morning I got some long awaited news via the internet. I learned who my Dad's grandmother's parents were. It was amazing to feel joy on this day. His great grandfather's name was Abraham Lincoln Courtney. His great grandmother's name was Queenie Ann Victoria Hicks. His grandmother was Trinda Ann Courtney. It is rumored that the Courtneys have some Creek Indian blood in the family. I am checking that out. So while Dad's physical body is gone, his history lives on. He lives on through me and his grandchildren. I believe he is in a much better place meeting many family members he never knew here. While I have their names I am hoping he was finally able to meet his grandmother murdered before he was born. Dad as much as I miss you, I wouldn't have you back in the condition you were in. Not for one hour. I would love to have you back for an hour when you were vibrant. Instead of crying because you're gone, I smile that you were here and despite your faults, I'm so glad that I was your daughter.

History Leads to Understanding

When we were children we were so excited to spend time with my mother's parents. They were so very loving and giving, especially my grandmother. We lived with them or near them in my early years and often I adored them both. My father's parents lived in Louisiana which was far way from Maryland. We only went there twice to visit although we did make trips to Florida at other times and sometimes saw Dad's Aunt Ella or her daughter, Trudie Poston Bryant and her family. Dad's parents were very different. They didn't like it when we were just being normal kids and my grandfather was shy and not comfortable showing or receiving affection. We called them Nanie and Pops. Now that I understand the history of their lives, I understand. I only wish I had known then what I know now. About 1978 Dad built a new home and put a large apartment for his parents who were getting older. He went down and packed them up from Alexandria, Louisiana and moved them to New Jersey where they had family. It was a huge adjustment for all of us. I got to know them both so much better and it was really sad when Pops developed lung cancer after being here only about three years.I spent the last weeks of his life in his hospital room and despite my Dad's order not to tell him what was wrong I promised him I would tell him the truth and I did. My grandmother didn't want him to know what was wrong with him. He never let on that he knew.

This is a picture of Dad with his parents sometime after he joined the Navy. What I learned about Jacob Mason Mancil 1900-1980 was that he had one difficult childhood. His mother was shot and killed in their home when he was about 13. I learned after his death that his brother George, 8 witnessed the killing. It makes me wonder if "Jake" witnessed it to. He was a very nervous person. Within a few short months he and his brother were sent to live with other family members and never attended school again. They knew who had killed their mother, it was their sister Ruby's husband, Angus Graham. Ruby remained with him for several years. They had older sisters and I have wondered why none of them took their young brothers in. I now realize the sisters were pretty young too. His father was in his fifties and married a woman about twenty. They had four more children. I'm not sure how many times Jake saw his father after that but he never spoke of him, as he did his mother. He thought his mother's real name was Carolyn and her nickname was Callie but that doesn't seem to be so. He had a younger sister also named Callie. The good news is that he joined the Navy and the Army. He learned a trade, being an x ray technician. He married someone from his hometown, or nearby, Birddie Belle Kinard and they had a son, my father. They owned a home on Eastwood Blvd. for many years and had a nice large apartment in their final years. They are buried in Tennent Cemetery, a historical cemetery and will be surrounded by their son's family. My grandmother, Birddie Belle Kinard learned to be tough in her twenties if not before. She often spoke of her mother's small plantation and home. Years after the Civil War, people who had been slaves stayed on with them. They had grown up with them and she said they were very fond of each other. Nanie had met Jake Mancil and married him and they had just one son, James Walker Mancil. When her son was quite young her mother had two young girls and never recovered from the birth of the last. Her mother got pneumonia and Nanie took her son and went and stayed with her for several months. When her mother died she told me of having her body in a casket in the parlor. Folks came from all over and they had a huge meal set up. Her mother, Mollie Poston Kinard was a religious and well loved woman. My grandmother went home to Louisiana and a short time later came back to visit her baby sisters. She found them wandering around and her older brothers didn't seem to know how to care for them. She took them with her when she left. Her father was still around but at some point relocated to Texas where he worked for Gulf Oil. He lost touch with all his family at some point and many years later my grandmother received a call and went and got him from Texas and took him into her home to live until he died many years later. Nanie was a pillar of her church community. She had a taste for fine things and often spoke of the lovely house she grew up in with it's pocket doors. Her husband wanted her to be happy and she had Lenox china (which I now have), an antique grandfather clock and many other nice things. I am priviledged to have the clock and her gas lamps that were electrified. I also have the pictures of both her and Pops' mothers hanging in my wall. I love them. My point is that like my grandfather, my grandmother knew hardship. Imagine being a twenty some year old bride with a young son and you have to take care of your dying mother and two young sisters. Imagine having to watch three young children, being in your early twenties and grieving your mother's loss. It must have been quite hard. The saddest part is that although she tried to watch over her baby sisters they both ended up dying young. I believe both were alcohol related deaths.She outlived all her siblings, although she was the oldest. I know now she had to be tough to survive it all. She often said that the worst heartbreak was watching her mother die. This is a picture of Nanie in the middle and her baby sister on the right, Mary Ann and on her left, Dorothy, two years older than Mary Ann.

Now I understand you so much better, Nanie and Pops. You did the best you could.

The Mystery of Callie McGowin

One of my biggest inspirations to do research was the murder of my great grandmother, Callie McGowin Mancil. When I started out I only knew family stories of what had happened. I had been told that Callie was stabbed in her barn with a pitchfork by her son-in-law Ruby's husband, Angus Graham. That was all I knew other than that my grandfather had been quite young at the time. He never went to school after that. Pops also told me that her real name was Carolyn McGowin but her nickname was Callie. I met his older sisters Callie, Ella and Blanche. Ruby was dead before I was born. When Pops died of lung cancer I was so sorry I hadn't asked him more questions. It seems there was a lot of things he couldn't remember but he was about eighty then. He told me that she was of Scotch Irish descent and a tiny woman. Shortly after her death his father married a very young woman (although he was in his 50s) and they had more children. My grandfather and his younger brother George were sent to live with other family. To this day I do not understand why. I spoke with his half brother Bill's wife and she told me that her husband never talked about it. What I have learned since researching is that Callie was part of a prominent family, the McGowins. She was one of the children from her father, James McGowin II's second marriage to Virginia Sanks. Many of James' children from his first marriage do not list his second wife or her children on their family trees but there is a book, Geneology and Related Papers of the McGowin Family and on page 48 it lists his second wife and their children, including Callie. My grandfather's younger brother was 5 when his mother was killed. He told his family he witnessed it. Uncle George said that Angus, his sister Ruby's husband, came to the house angry and argued with his mother. He pulled out a pistol and shot her. He was arrested and acquitted some few months later on the grounds of insanity. A census a few years later shows him in Pensacola and Ruby is still with him. I believe shortly after that they divorced and rumor was she had several husbands. I have only recently learned that Callie, wife of many years to her husband James Bryant "Tobe", mother of eight children, was not buried in the local family cemeteries. There were two Mancil cemeteries and cemeteries her McGowin family members were buried in. She was buried it seems in Century, Florida in a cemetery unrelated to her or her husband's family. I have to wonder why. She was only 48 years old when she died. I have been told that her family disliked her husband very much and felt she was lowering herself to marry him. I can understand that but certainly I would like to think that she received a proper burial. I can find no record of an obituary for her. I have searched find a grave and there is no grave listed in the cemetery she is supposed to be at. I have been in touch with some wonderful people who have said they will go and check out the cemetery for me and see if they can find a stone. If not and we can determine which grave is hers I plan to get her a marker. It breaks my heart to think of all she went through and I wonder as she lay there dying if she understood what was going on. I wonder if she saw her young son standing there and was scared for him. Little might you have guessed Miss Callie that your great granddaughter, your son Jake's granddaughter would be on the internet and sharing your story with the world. Although we never met, I am a part of you. I feel connected to you and one day I want to visit your grave. You are not forgotten. (Callie's picture is at the top on the header. I believe it is the only picture of her that exists. I have it framed and hanging on my wall.)

My Mother's Side

On my mother's side of the family are her Dad's side, the Cosgraves. We knew they were Irish. My grandfather is what was called Black Irish. That means that he had black hair and blue eyes. His mother was a Nichols and we are now learning that part of her family was Irish too. We have the naturalization paper of Daniel Cosgrave who was the first Irish to come to America. He was born in 1798 and he came here by way of Philadelphia where he remained until 1850 when his wife died in Philadelphia. He then went to Newark, New Jersey where he died and was buried. He had married Elizabeth Ruth and had three children, a daughter Elizabeth and two sons, John and Joseph William Cosgrave who fought in the Civil War. I am descended from Joseph William Cosgrave. Someday I hope to find his grave, if it is still there.

All this information was provided to me, those are the gems you are lucky enough to find once in awhile. When you are doing all the research yourself, it can be time consuming and frustrating. When you find the information you are looking for it's so rewarding. My grandfather, Robert Leslie Cosgrave was a police officer in Montgomery County, Maryland. It's a huge county with a large force. He was one of the original motorcycle policeman and somewhere I have a picture of them with him in it but it's not a good picture with so many people in it. My grandfather was a wonderful man. He was quiet and loved his family so much. This is a picture of him.

He had to retire young as he had several heart attacks. In later years he had a few strokes. He died in his tiny home he loved so much with my grandmother there. Thank you Grandaddy for giving me my love for all things Irish and for always making me feel so loved. I treasure your memory.

How This All Started

I have my Aunt Judy to thank for encouraging me, for inspiring me, to look into my ancestry. My father was an only child. He was born in Flomaton, Alabama and moved around back and forth there and lived in various parts of Louisiana until he graduated from high school. At that time he joined the Navy and spent the next ten years seeing the world. He was stationed in Bethesda Naval Base at Bethesda, Maryland when he met my mother who is called Bubbles by her family. She worked there at the time and had lived her life in Silver Spring, Maryland with her parents and one sister. My Aunt Judy was my only aunt although we had many great aunts and great uncles. My Aunt Judy is only about eleven years older than me and when I think of fun she always comes to mind. I have many wonderful memories of her and throughout my early years we sometimes lived in the house with my grandparents and her as Dad was gone a lot at sea.
About 2 years ago my Aunt Judy mentioned her tree on Ancestry.com and gave me permission to see it.I was amazed at how much work she and her daughter, Teri (the oldest of my four first cousins) had done.There were other family members also interested in Ancestry who were exchanging pictures and things about the Wolfe family. (That is my grandmother's maiden name, the mother of my mother and Judy.) They also had a lot about my grandmother's mother's family, the Getzendanners, who were from Frederick, Maryland.I was hooked. At that time I was really sick and only checked in periodically to see what was going on. When Aunt Judy and Teri came when my father died we discussed some of what they had found and I was fascinated. I kind of wanted to start researching Dad's family but I was skeptical that I could find much. His parents had moved to New Jersey the last ten years of my grandmother's life and only about two years of my grandfathers. I had asked them things and they had told me some things that aroused my curiousity but at that time my life was so busy. By the time my Dad passed away I had been out of work for awhile, with frequent hospitalizations for pneumonia. The following June I was hospitalized and it was determined I needed open heart surgery. My employer let me go and as it turned out I would not have been able to return to work anyway. The past few months I was getting in more of a routine with being home and from time to time I wondered if I might find out anything about the Mancil family or the Poston family. I really wasn't able to find anything and decided to do a free trial of ancestry for two weeks. I was amazed at all the resources they put at my finger tips and immediately began discovering things.As I was able to go along filling in more and more squares with names and dates I began to feel so connected to the past. I think one of the things that was really fulfilling was finding the names of my grandher's grandparents.