Friday, September 28, 2007

1946/47: Orlando School's grades 6, 7, 8

The Orlando School
1946-1947


World War II had ended. The Baltimore and Ohio Railroad had de-commissioned and
closed the Orlando Depot. Passenger trains did not stop at Orlando anymore. The depot building had been dismantled and the lumber sold to Tom McPherson who built his home near the mouth of McCauley Run with the salvaged lumber. A downturn in the economy of Orlando was looming ahead. However, during the school year of 1946-1947, the Orlando School was still well attended and the school had not yet experienced a decline in enrollment.

The sixth, seventh and eighth grades of the Orlando School consisted of twenty four students. The principal of the school was John Brown of Burnsville who had been the principal since the 1944 school year. The assisting teachers for 1946-1947 were Marmel Brown and Ruth Morrison. (John and Marmel Brown were husband and wife.)

Top Row, left to right
Virginia Dare Skinner [Bennett]. Virginia is the daughter of Frank and Nina (Shipman) Skinner. Virginia attended Burnsville High School for her freshman year and later graduated from Buckhannon-Upshur High School. Virginia now lives in Arizona.

Homer Wilfong. Homer is the son of Robert and Cora Belle (Wilfong) Wilfong. Robert attended Burnsville High School. Robert retired from Crucible Steel Corporation in Shippingport, Pennsylvania and now lives in New Cumberland, West Virginia.


Patsy Morrison [Reckart]. Pat is the daughter of Ray and Nellie (Godfrey) Hopkins. Pat is now retired and lives in Weston. Pat operated several businesses in the Weston area. She is one of the founders of the Orlando Reunion. Pat graduated from Burnsville High School in 1953.


Richard Strader. Richard is the son of Linzie and Mae (Posey) Strader and grew up on Road Run. Richard attended Burnsville High School and married Wanda Wilson. He lives in Crescent, Pennsylvania. Two of his brothers were also in this clasee picture, Franklin and Clifford. His double cousin Deignese is also in this class picture.


Deignese Strader [Crabbe]. Deignese is the daughter of Okey and Mary (Posey) Strader. Deignese grew up on Road Run and graduated from Burnsville High School in 1953. Her sister of Dora is also in this class picture. The three Strader boys in the class are their double cousins-The girls' mother Mary was the sister the boys' mom Mae and the grils' dad Okey was the brother of the boys' dad Linsey. And of course, all five were the grandchildren of Flukey and Mina Posey. Deignese lives in Columbus, Ohio.

John Spinks. John was the son of Floyd and Vecie (Ware) Spinks who were originally from Greenbrier County. John’s family moved from Orlando to Gem and then to Cowen. He was wounded during the Korean War. After the Korean War, while employed by the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad in Baltimore, he was killed in a work-related accident when he was crushed by a falling box car.

2nd row, left to right
Peggy Skinner [Morris]. Peggy is the daughter of Glenn and Virginia (McCoy) Skinner. Peggy graduated from Burnsville High School in 1951. She lives in Jacksonville Beach, Florida. Two of Peggy's sisters are also in this picture, Bumps and Margi. Theirmother was Virginia McCoy who taught many years at Clover Fork and other schools in the Oil Creek watershed.

Robert Gibson. Bob was the son of John and Lona (Gay) Gibson. Bob graduated from Burnsville High School with the class of 1952. Bob lived in Akron when he died in 1986.

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Patrick Blake. Pat was the son of Marion and Ethel (Skinner) Blake. Pat died in 1995. He served as a Deputy Sheriff in Lewis County and also served as the Lewis County Animal Control Officer.


Jane Conley [Mortens]. Jane was the daughter of Patrick and Emma Conley. Jane was a military wife and lived in many places. She died in San Francisco in 2005. Jane graduated from Burnsville High School with the class of 1951.

3rd Row, left to right
Franklin Strader. Franklin is the son of Linzie and Mae (Posey) Strader. Frank graduated from Burnsville High School in 1952. He lives in Berkeley Springs, West Virginia. His brother Clifford is also in this class. Exampes of their mom's quilts are shown in the June '06 entry Our Grandmothers' Quilts

Anna Louise Skinner [Crutchfield]. Louise was the daughter of Frank and Nina (Shipman) Skinner. She was the sister of Virginia who is listed above. Louise married Stanton Crutchfield. She died at age 55 in 1990. She was a resident of Weston.


Ray Clifford Strader. Clifford is the son of Linzie and Mae (Posey) Strader. Clifford graduated from Burnsville High School with the class of 1952. He lives on Road Run. His brother Franklin was also in this class. The March 31, 2007 entry
Flukey Posey – Baritone, Sheep Shearer & More is about their grandparents Flukey and Mina Posey and their farm on Road Run.


Marjorie Skinner. Margie was the daughter of Glenn and Virginia (McCoy) Skinner. Margie never married. She moved to Fort Pierce, Florida with her parents around 1958 and died there. Margie's sisters Peg and Bumps are also in this class. Their dad, Edwin Glenn Skinner, was the son of Gideon and Sarah (Bennett) Skinner. He was a barber by trade and worked first in Orlando, then Burnsville. The Nov '06 entry The IOOF Funeral Of Geroge W. Bennett shows him as a little boy at his gtandfather's funeral in 1914

Homer Wilson. Homer was the son of Robert and Martha Wilson. Homer’s family lived on Oil Creek below Orlando. His family moved to the Buckhannon area. .

Louie Mae Beckner [Guzzetta]. The daughter of William and Josie (Riffle) Beckner, Louie Mae graduated with the 1953 class of Burnsville High School. She lived in Weirton at her death. Her nephew Bill Beckner will always remember her with love because it was Louie Mae who came to Detroit to care for little brothers Neil and Bill after their mother, her sister-in-law Virginia (Stutler), died of tuberculosis in 1953. Her folks, Bill and Josie (Riffle) Beckner are mentioned in many entries. In particular is the Sept0'6
entry Red & Josie Beckner.


Eleanor Skinner [Antunes]. Eleanor, known as “Bumps”, was the daughter of Glenn and Virginia (McCoy) Skinner, and sister of Peggy and Margie, listed above. Bumps graduated from Burnsville High School with the class of 1952. She worked for the United States Navy Department in northern Florida. She died around 1993. They lived with their parents and other siblings in a beautiful home on a farm up Road Run.

Bottom Row
Betty Riffle [Stout]. Betty is the daughter of Layton and Bertha (Mick) Riffle. Betty married the late Roy Stout. She lives in Buckhannon. She graduated from Burnsville High School in 1953.


Irene Skinner [Fraley]. Irene is the daughter of Vaden Skinner and Opal Skinner. Irene moved to California many years ago and still resides there.


Dora Ella Strader [Childers]. Dora is the daughter of Okey and Mary (Posey) Strader and grew up on Road Run. Her sister Deignese is pictured above. She married Harold Childers and lives in Canal Winchester, Ohio.


Arthur Jacob Riffle. Jake was the son of George and Bessie (Fox) Riffle. Jake graduated from Burnsville High School with the class of 1952. Jake's family lived at the mouth of McCaully Run and his dad was a trackman for the B & O. Jake worked for a Ford automobile plant in Ohio for 33 years and retired to Pennsboro. He died in Parkersburg in 2000. He is buried at Cedarville.

June Riffle [Fisher]. The sister of Jacob Riffle and daughter of George and Bessie (Fox) Riffle, June graduated from Sand Fork High School. She died in 1962.


Ernestine McNemar [Godfrey]. Ernestine is the daughter of Alpha “Ed” and Necie (Skinner) McNemar. Ernestine is married to Eugene “Bud”Godfrey and lives in Weston.


Mildred Morrison [McNemar]. Millie is the daughter of Pate Conrad and Myrtle Morrison. Millie is married to Forrest McNemar and lives in Mineral Wells, West Virginia. Millie attended Burnsville High School. Millie was the granddaughter of Orlando's phtographer Lee Morrison. Aphoto of her mom appears in the Feb '07 entry Lee Morrison: Photographer Extraordinaire. Her dad Burton "Pate" was the subject of Uncle Zeke's column. See the July '07 entry Berton “Pate” Conrad: Who Says Chickens Don’t Have Teeth?

Comment Three girls who were classmates at Posey Run School in 1911 have daughters who were classmates at the Orlando School in 1946/47- Bessie Fox, Josie Riffle and Opal Skinner. See the April '07 entry The Posey Run School

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Dan Murphy: The Interesting Life of an Orlando Irishman and a Red Hot Republican

Dan or “Dannie” Murphy was a popular figure around Orlando in the late 1800s until his death on Thanksgiving Day in 1948 at the age of 72 years. Dan was born Andrew Daniel Murphy in 1876 in Braxton County to Daniel and Mary (Thornton) Murphy. Both of Dan’s parents were born in Ireland and had come to America in the 1850s. After living in northern Braxton County for a while, the elder Daniel Murphy, desiring to live closer to his fellow Irishmen who had thickly settled in the Collins Settlement District of Lewis County, bought a 108 acre tract on Three Lick Run of Oil Creek. This purchase, made in 1877, in a chancery proceeding, was for the same land which had originally been sold by George J. Arnold to Irish brothers James and Peter McAnde. The purchase price paid by the senior Dan Murphy for the former McAnde real estate was $605.00. Thus began a long association of the Murphy family to the Orlando area lasting to this time.

The Early Settlement of Collins Settlement
Located in the southwestern part of Lewis County, Collins Settlement District was mostly unsettled until the 1850s. The terrain of this section of Lewis County consists of narrow valleys wedged between steep, spiny hills and is marginally suited for farming. The land in this area was owned in large tracts by a few individuals. Among the owners of these large tracts were Gideon C. Camden, Richard P. Camden, Minter Bailey, William E. Arnold and George J. Arnold.
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Above is Dan Murphy, about 1940.
Left, looking up Three Lick
Right, Collins Settlement marked on a map of Lewis County
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According to Donal O’Donovan in his book, The Rock From Which You Were Hewn, much of this land had been bought by the owners for as little as ten cents an acre. Because there was so much land west of the Ohio River suitable for farming, there was little interest in the southwestern Lewis County lands. Historic events in Ireland, however, provided buyers for the Lewis County lands. Potato famines for several years in the 1840s and evictions of tenant farmers by landlords left many Irish families homeless. Nearly half the population of Ireland left the Emerald Isle, many of whom found their way to America. Several thousand Irish families made the hills of northwestern Virginia their future home. The original owners sold much of the hilly lands of southwestern Lewis County for $2.50 to $3.00 per acre to Irish families and allowed those buyers to pay for the land on time. It was cheap land in the Goosepen and Three Lick section of Lewis County, known as the “Murray Settlement,” that beckoned many Irish settlers.
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Why They Came
Most all of the Irish settlers of Lewis County, such as Irishman Dan Murphy, were farmers. Some of the Irish immigrants were involved in the construction of the Staunton-Parkersburg Turnpike (now U. S. Route 33). Others found jobs as laborers or stonemasons in the construction of the insane asylum at Weston, as well as other minor construction projects. However, the laboring jobs were, for the most part, adjunct only to the operation of the cattle and sheep farms by the Irish settlers.
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Right: a table that belonged to Dan's mother Mary (Thornton) Murphy.
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A Short Time in Burnsville
After the B & O Railroad built its Oil Creek line through Orlando and on to Burnsville in 1891, it was but a short train ride from Orlando to Burnsville. Although a farmer at heart, the elder Dan Murphy and his wife Mary moved from the Three Lick farm to Burnsville to live the “city life.” Their son Dan or “Dannie,” a confirmed bachelor, also went to Burnsville and began work for the Gowing Veneer Company across from the mouth of Oil Creek on the Little Kanawha River. Dannie Murphy’s career as a veneer mill worker was as short as his index finger became after an accidental meeting with a sharp planer blade. Minus the end of his right index finger, Dannie Murphy returned to his family’s 108 acre farm on Three Lick and took up the life of a farmer.
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The Murphy Farmstead
As was all the land on Three Lick, large stands of virgin timber stood in the narrow valley when Dannie Murphy’s father bought the 108 acre farm. The Murphy home was a two story hewn log house with cut stone chimney, approximately 30x24, which was enlarged and later clapboarded. The Murphy farm, like most farms in the Orlando area, consisted of a little bottom land, steep hillsides, flat areas on the side of the hill and the rolling, rocky top of the hill, known locally and historically as Ryan’s Hill. The Murphy farm is located about three miles from the mouth of Three Lick and lies on both sides of the Three Lick Road. The farm, still owned by the Murphy family, adjoins the interstate highway which was built on part of the Murphy farm at the top of Ryan’s Hill.
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Above is the Murphy home on Three Lick, the original log house and addition clappboarded.
Below is a beam inside the Murphy homestead, part of the original log house.
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Farm Life
Dan Murphy was a small man of only five feet two inches who wore a size five shoe. A confirmed bachelor for most of his life, Dannie was content to live alone and live the life of a farmer on the family farmstead. Dan’s granddaughter Joan Stiltner described Dan as a sheep farmer. The lay of Dan’s farm was more suitable for a grazing agriculture and less so for the raising of crops. Sheep were naturally suited to this type of land.

Dan raised mostly corn and oats, as well as a little wheat. Like most of the Irish farmers around Orlando, Dan usually kept about thirty to fifty head of sheep, anywhere from two to four hogs, a couple of cows and horses, the usual flock of chickens, a gaggle of geese and a few turkeys. Dan raised nearly everything his family ate.

An interesting feature of the Murphy farm was a small seam of coal, located near the top of the hill on both sides of the Three Lick Road. As the farm was gradually cleared of timber, wood fires were supplemented by coal from the coal bank. Dan would carry the dug coal, bucket by bucket from the top of the hill to the back of the house where it was stored until used.
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Dan, the Confirmed Bachelor, Gets Married
Dannie Murphy had reached the ripe old age of forty nine years by 1928 and had been a bachelor without prospects for marriage. Dan was acquainted with Shepherd family who lived on Ben’s Run, west of Three Lick. The Shepherds, who were also Irish Catholic, were cousins of the Wanstreet family who were originally from the Santa Clara section of Doddridge County. Fate would change Dannie Murphy’s marital status thanks to his friends and his future wife’s cousins, the Shepherds.

Agnes (Wanstreet) Doyle was the widow of Floyd Edwin Doyle who had died in 1920. Agnes and her late husband had lived in Clarksburg. Agnes (Wanstreet) Doyle was visiting her Shepherd cousins on Ben’s Run in 1928 when Dannie Murphy happened to pay a visit to the Shepherd home. After formal introductions by the Shepherds, Dan, the confirmed bachelor and the long widowed Agnes, seemed to “hit if off,” and Dan’s bachelor days were numbered. The “I Do’s” were exchanged in August 1928 and Dan and Agnes took up housekeeping at the Murphy farm on Three Lick. Jean Lantz, Dan’s granddaughter, tells us that for the next twenty years of their marriage until Dan’s death in 1948, Agnes prepared Dan’s breakfast every morning at five o’clock a.m.
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A New Beginning – Dan, the Family Man
Life on the Murphy farm continued for Dan and Agnes pretty much as it had before their marriage, except that Dan now had a helpmate. Agnes also brought with her two young daughters from her previous marriage, Virginia, aged eight and Ethel, aged ten. Agnes’ older daughter Mabel was married and living in Ohio. Dan became an instant father, as well as a husband, upon his marriage to Agnes.

Lynn Riffle, now aged 93 years and living in Jane Lew, recalls “Danny Murphy” with great affection. Lynn began his school teaching career at the one room Three Lick School in 1932 and taught there for five terms. Among his students were Dan’s step-daughters, Ethel and Virginia Doyle. Lynn recalls that “Danny Murphy took great interest in the success of the Three Lick School, attended PTA meetings and helped everyway he could.” Lynn continued and said that “Danny Murphy and Pid Henline made my job a lot easier with all the help they gave me.” Commenting on Dan Murphy, Lynn stated that “Danny was a very, very nice and upstanding man in the community, a well-liked Irishman.” Lynn, ever a political Democrat, did offer the caveat however that “Danny Murphy, you know, was a Republican.”

With a new wife and two step-daughters, Dan Murphy became a family man, in addition to a farmer. He took a active interest in the raising of his step-daughters and their education.

In a few years, Ethel married but later separated from her husband but not before adding twin daughters, Joan and Jean, to the Murphy household. Many in the community simply referred to Ethel’s daughters as the “Murphy twins.”
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Left: Agnes (Wanstreet) Doyle, Dan Murphy's wife.
Below, right: Dan's banjo
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Agnes was a good helpmate. In addition to being an excellent cook and a fastidious housekeeper, she was skillful with needle and thread and the making of cloth. Dan’s socks were made by his wife from the wool of his sheep. Agnes also kept her granddaughters, Jean and Joan, well adorned in dresses made from feed sacks. She traded feed sacks with her neighbors in order to make matching outfits for the twin girls. Agnes also was an excellent quilter and always seemed to have a quilt on the quilting frame which was made by her husband. Jean remembers that her grandmother made bread every day and that she made tasty cottage cheese.

Dan was a sensitive and kindhearted man. He formed a strong attachment to his two stepdaughters and his twin step-grandchildren who became as if his own children. The younger of the two step-children, Virginia, was musically talented and Dan bought a Gibson guitar for her which is still in the family today. Dan played the banjo and often joined Virginia on the guitar to entertain the family. Emptying the living room of furniture, they also played for neighborhood square dances held in the Murphy home. When his stepdaughter Virginia died at the young age of 22, Dan was much bereaved. Granddaughter Joan remembers her grandfather sobbing, his head on the fireplace mantel, when Virginia passed away.
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Cropping the Murphy Farm
Dan raised his chewing tobacco on the farm. He always planted potatoes on St. Patrick’s Day, rain or snow, not withstanding. Lambs were sold during the spring, sheep were sheared in the summer, vegetables were peddled from the back of the car in Weston and stock was sold in Weston on Tuesdays. Hog butchering on the Murphy farm continued on Thanksgiving Day as before. Joan Stiltner remembers that every part of the butchered hog was used. Fried brains, pig’s feet and pig’s skins were part of the Murphy diet. The lard rendered from the hog was used for cooking, year round. The pig’s bladder was retrieved and filled with water as a play toy for the Dan’s twin granddaughters, Joan and Jean. Dan was a conscientious gardener and spent many hours keeping his garden free of weeds, according to granddaughter Joan. Dan enlisted the help of his granddaughters to “flip the bugs off” Dan’s cherished tobacco plants, which was a “fun chore” for the twin girls.
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Above left: stepdaughter Virginia Doyle
Right: the twins Joan and Jean
Below left: Dan Murphy's slop jar, wash basin and shaving mug. The pitcher and the lid for the jar are missing.
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This is Country Life
Granddaughter Joan recalls that during her grandfather’s lifetime there was no electricity in the Murphy home. As were many homes in the Orlando area, the Murphy home was illuminated with gas lights. There was no running water, no indoor bathroom, and the Sears, Roebuck catalog served as the family toilet paper. Joan recalls that the Murphy home did have a telephone and that the number was Walkersville 8F5. The signaling ring for the Murphy home was five long rings and everybody up and down Three Lick had eager ears to listen in on the telephone calls to the Murphy home. The eavesdroppers, of course, annoyed Dan to no end.
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The Importance of Faith
As the son of Irish immigrants, Dan’s faith, as well as his wife’s, was Roman Catholicism. Dan, according to granddaughter Joan, was not a devout church-goer, and took communion only at Easter but did attend confession. Dan would, however, kneel in prayer each night before retiring to bed. Joan recalls that her grandfather could “cuss a blue streak,” which was perhaps the reason for Dan’s frequent trips to the confession booth. The family attended church on alternating Sundays at St. Bridget’s at Goosepen and St. Michael’s in Orlando.
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A Copperhead Strikes
Granddaughter Joan recalls one morning that Dan went out to pick berries but soon came running off the hill from behind the barn, shouting for his wife Agnes to come quickly. A copperhead had bitten Dan. Agnes quickly took Dan’s pocket knife and lanced the wound, allowing the incision to bleed freely. Agnes then took a bottle of black ink and poured it into the wound. The quick first aid was successful. Dan recovered and no doctor bills were incurred.
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A Little Nip Won’t Hurt You
But You Might Lose the Turtle
As many folks can attest, most good Irishmen liked to take a drink and Dannie Murphy was no exception. Although “hard” liquor sometimes graced Dan’s lips, his passion was the wine he made in his “still” located under the washhouse. Granddaughter Joan recalls one day when she and her sister were five years old and the family of a young cousin was visiting, the three children, while playing, came upon Dan’s wine stash. Sister Jean adventurously imbibed in the ‘squeezings’ of Dan’s grapes. The effects were not positive. For dinner that evening a special treat for the visitors had been planned. Dan loved turtle and that day had caught a large one which his wife had prepared for dinner. The twin girls also loved the meat of the turtle. Much to Jean’s chagrin and the wine-induced afternoon sleep, Jean missed her meal of turtle. To this day, because of this memory, Jean will not touch a glass of wine.
Above: Two stoneware jugs that belonged to Dan.
Below: Dan and Spot.
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Christian Charity
Dan Murphy was known throughout the Orlando area as a kind and generous man. Granddaughter Joan recalls that on the day of her grandfather’s death in 1948 there was a late night knock on the Murphy front door. Agnes found a young, disheveled, hungry young man at the front door who asked for Dan. Agnes informed the young man that Dan had passed away that day. The young man told Agnes his name and that his father had told him if he was ever in need and near the Dan Murphy farm that Dan Murphy would give him food. Agnes took the young man into the kitchen and gave him a hot meal in the Dan Murphy tradition.

Another example of Dannie Murphy’s generosity was the gift of an acre of ground to Martin Posey who was in need of someplace to build a much needed home. Posey was without the wherewithal to buy land. Dan felt that a good man in need deserved a helping hand. Such acts of kindness were responsible for the reputation of Dan Murphy in Orlando was a “good man.”

Pid Henline
Pid Henline was a close neighbor and good friend of Dannie Murphy. Pid had bought the former McGuire farm just below the Murphy farm. The two farmers often helped the other with farm related chores, ranging from butchering to the transporting of wagon loads of corn to Orlando to be milled. When Pid and Dan took their wagons of corn to be milled, the two friends, while waiting for their corn to be milled, would go to the Henline home place in Orlando and socialize with Pid’s brother Heaterhuck and sister Clora. Dannie Murphy was always a welcome guest at the Henline home. Dan’s granddaughter Jean recalls that she often heard Pid Henline shouting Dan’s name from the adjoining farm and that Pid was a frequent guest in the Murphy home and always addressed her grandfather by the name of “Dan.” Jean and her twin sister, taking the cue from Pid, also addressed their grandfather as “Dan.”
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Dan Was a Red-Hot Republican
In politics, Dan Murphy was a red-hot Republican according to his step-daughter Ethel Doyle. Ethel since the age of ten had always lived in the Murphy household and considered Dan as her father. Ethel recalls that all his life Dan lived and breathed politics and considered that Republicanism was the only true route to a successful life in America for a man willing to work. The Democrat party, according to Dan, was a party of cronyism and had become addicted to public welfare. Dan avidly promoted his party of choice. Ethel Doyle recalls that he worked the polls for his Republican party at the Dolan Hotel polling place in Orlando. Even though Dan was a Republican and his wife was a Democrat, he always insisted that his wife cast her ballot even though it would have the effect of “canceling out” his vote. Dan, who had long given up driving his automobile after gracefully depositing the car into Three Lick one day while trying to turn around, enlisted his wife’s expertise in the handling of his 1937 Chevrolet. On Election Day, Dan would give his wife a list of Republican voters who needed transportation to the polling place at Dolan’s Hotel. Dutifully, Democrat Agnes brought Dan’s Republican friends to cast their votes. Ethel Doyle recalls that during elections she often observed half-pints of whiskey being exchanged for votes. The practice of vote buying in West Virginia had long been an election practice. The standard price of a vote, long practiced by the Democrat Party, was a two dollar bill or a half-pint of whiskey. To counter the Democrat vote buying machine, Republicans also engaged in the Election Day “tit for tat.” Granddaughters Joan and Jean often observed whiskey change hands in the democratic process on Election Day.
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Above: Agnes with the '37 Chevy.
Below: St. Michael's last wedding: Jean and Edwin Queen in 1959.

Dan’s oldest step-daughter, Mabel McVaney, who lived near Parkersburg at Vienna , was, her self, a red-hot Democrat, as was her husband. Ethel Doyle recalls that during World War II when Franklin Roosevelt was campaigning for re-election as President, a stop was scheduled by Roosevelt in Clarksburg. Mabel and her husband were visiting with her sister, mother and step father that day at the Murphy home. Mabel was insistent that the family make the journey from Three Lick to Clarksburg to listen to the speech Roosevelt was to make at the train station. Dan, however, was not so keen on making a pilgrimage to Clarksburg to watch the electioneering would-be demigod Roosevelt seek an unprecedented fourth term in the White House. The family was all dressed and ready to go to Clarksburg but Dan kept procrastinating with one excuse after another. Finally, Dan was ready to leave but he had skillfully timed his departure just right. After negotiating the long trip to Clarksburg, the Murphy family finally arrived at the Clarksburg train station long after the Presidential train had left for points farther west. The red-hot Republican Dan Murphy undoubtedly enjoyed the return trip to his Three Lick farm.
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Dan Takes Sick
A couple of days before Thanksgiving in 1948, Dannie Murphy and his friend, Pid Henline, traveled to Weston on the Blue Goose bus line. While in Weston, Dan bought a can of sardines for his lunch. The sardines, however, was the source of food poisoning and Dan became deathly ill. After arriving home very sick Dan refused the entreaties of his wife to call a doctor. Sam Wanstreet, who had come to the Murphy home to visit his sister, finally prevailed upon Dan to go to the hospital. Mike Moran, the Orlando undertaker, was called and with the help of Jack Riffle, Mike Moran placed Dan on a cot and loaded him into the ambulance. Dan however was fatally ill and died before the ambulance could depart. Dan’s granddaughter Joan recalls that the night before her grandfather died, Dan’s trusty collie dog “Teddy” howled the night long and would not cease. Joan was reminded of the “old wife’s tale” of the impending death of the master on such an event and believes to this day that Teddy’s inconsolable howling foretold the death of Dannie Murphy, a good man and red-hot Republican.

Dan Misses the Last Wedding
In 1959, Dan Murphy’s granddaughter Jean married Edwin Queen in St. Michael’s Church in Orlando . This wedding, conducted by Father O’Reilly, was the last Catholic wedding to take place in St. Michael’s Church before it was closed by St. Patrick’s Parish. Dan Murphy undoubtedly would have loved to live to see his granddaughter exchange vows of marriage in the church of his faith.
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Comments
Comment 1 Shirley (Davis) Duckworth now living in Kingston, New York
During the 1940s my family lived on Ryan’s Hill, above and adjoining to the Dan Murphy farm on Three Lick. Dan had a dog by the name of “Shep” which had a reputation for biting people. My experience with Shep however was just the opposite. Shep would come to my family’s home and would spend hours playing with me. I do not understand why anyone would think that Shep was an unfriendly dog.
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Comment 2 Bob Pumphrey now living in Magnolia, Texas
Danny Murphy used to come down the Three Lick road to our home to visit my father Bill Pumphrey nearly every evening. When I was a boy I helped my father dig Danny Murphy’s grave at the St. Bridget’s Cemetery at Goosepen.
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Comment 3 Tom Pumphrey of Murphreesboro , Tennessee
When I was a boy I knew Danny Murphy of Three Lick. My family lived at Goosepen. My father was a blacksmith and shod horses. I remember when I was young Danny’s step daughters, Ethel Doyle and Virginia Doyle, used to ride Danny’s horses to Goosepen to have them shod. Ethel and Virginia were teenagers and I was a few years younger.

I also would see Danny Murphy at poker games on Sunday afternoons which were held at the large log barn owned by Johnny Kaden of Goosepen. Danny would walk over Ryan’s Hill with his large dog. Other people I remember at the poker games were Pat Faley and Joe Riffle of Orlando . There were several other people who attended who I have forgotten. Sometimes there would be two tables.

Danny was a nice guy and I liked him. He talked fast and snappy and was just a little fellow.
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Notes:
A poem about the horror of Ireland's Potato Famine

A Famine in Ireland

Give me three grains of corn, mother,
Only three grains of corn,
It will keep this little life of mine
Till the comiug of the morn.

I dreamed of bread in my sleep, mother,
The sight was cheering to me;
I awoke with an eager parched lip;
But you had no bread for me.

O how could I look to you mother
How could I look to you,
For bread to give to your starving boy
When you are starving too.

The men of England care not mother
Whether we live or die.
The bread they give to their dogs tonight
Would give life to you and I.

The famine is seen on your cheeks, mother
And in your eyes so wild;
I felt it in your bony hand
When you laid it on your child.

Come nearer to my side, mother
Come nearer to my side;
Embrace me fondly as you did
My father when he died.

Come quick, I cannot see you, mother
My sight is almost gone;
Mother, dear,’ere I die
Give me three grains of corn.

. . . . . . . . . ~ Author Unknown

Sunday, September 23, 2007

Bushwhacking in Braxton County

More than fifty years after the Civil War old Jacob Heater was helped to write his reminiscences of the war. The Braxton Democrat printed his story in 1920. It was reprinted in The Haymond Family Newsletter March 1998. Our thanks to the newletter's editor Billie Jo Runyon of Colleyville, TX for sharing this valuable window into history.

Below, Jacob Heater, who was in his early teens during the Civil War, tells of attacks by Union soldiers on men (and their families) whom they believed were bushwhackers. The attacks occurred on Salt Lick and in Heaters, just a couple miles apart on the Gauley Pike and just over the hill from the Oil Creek valley.

In Heater's report the Union soldiers identified the following men as "bushwhackers," which is an unflattering term for people fighting in the war not as members of the military, but on their own authority.
~ Benjamin Haymond (The author explains why Haymond chose to become a bushwhacker.)
~ Tom Stout (the author says Stout was not guilty in that instance.)
~ John Heater (the author's father)
~ Samuel Singleton (Again, the author explains why Singleton chose to become a bushwhacker.)

The stories also mention
~ Samuel Sanford Skinner (brother of Orlando's Alexander Skinner.)
~ Wyatt and Squires
~ Enoch Heater (Enoch is supposed to have served the Union in Co. A 10th WV.)
~ Mary (Heater) Bragg (the author's sister)
~ Hedding and Sarah (Haymond) Squires (Sarah was bushwhacker Benjamin Haymond's first cousin. We don't yet know if the "Squires" mentioned by the author is Hedding, his father, or another Squires.) )

For an overview of the Civil War in the area see the May '07 entry Oil Creek in the Civil War
. . . . .
"Some Civil War Reminiscences"
by Jacob Heater
the Braxton Democrat, Sutton, WV, dated March 4, 1920.

(Mr. Heater, who served in the Confederate Army, is about 70 years old. The article was written by him for the United Daughters of the Confederacy of Clarksburg, where he now resides, and is published in the Democrat at the request of some of his friends. -- Editor)

No historian will ever recount the many acts of cruelty and suffering among our own people during the Civil War. It is not my intention to kindle the fires again, but to give in a straight forward manner, without any impartiality whatever, the following facts. It may be useful in paralleling these days with those of today in Europe. It was my intention to write this article many years ago, when my physical and mental condition was much stronger than it is today; but never had it put in print, for the reason that I had never been to interview any of the witnesses to the tragedy. And now I learn what was gathered from hearsay does not differ very materially from the story of one who bears the scars today. If any difference, the story from his own lips is more horrible. But these things are facts, and we challenge any person now living to prove anything to the contrary. A wish many can produce a strong argument on any subject, be it right or wrong. We all know there are always two sides to any controversy.

In the early 60's much like today, people talked very little of anything except war, and war we had with all its tragical events. The tongue nor the pen nor the hand of the artist can portray the human mind the realities of war. We who have participated in it are unable to give a very vivid picture of it, but it is indelibly stamped on memory, as if it were only yesterday.

Some time in June, a small force of federal soldiers, under the command of General Tyler, invaded what is now West Virginia. When they reached Braxton and Gilmer counties, they met opposition. On their way from what is now Burnsville, West Virginia, to Sutton they found the road obstructed by felled trees, which was the beginning of hostilities.

Benjamin Haymond’s Story
The man living nearest the obstruction was Benjamin Haymond, a man of more than ordinary intelligence, a kind husband and father, and highly respected by his neighbors. He was a fine singer and violinist. He believed in getting all the pleasure out of life there was in it. His blue-coated visitors placed Mr. Haymond under cover. They took him out in the hot sun and compelled him to wield an axe until his hands were blistered. When he gained his liberty he shouldered his gun and swore vengeance on his persecutors. He and a few of his neighbors armed themselves as best they could and commenced a war on their own "hook."

They neither asked for quarter nor gave any. The first man they killed was a federal cavalryman named Thomas Devolt, who was detailed to guard the mail carrier between Weston and Sutton. The mail carrier made his escape in the direction of the town of Sutton. He met a few soldiers at a farmer's house and when he told his story the farmer jumped to the conclusion that Tom Stout and his sons had killed the guard. The officer said, "Where does Tom Stout live?" The farmer replied, "Down the road, up a holler to the left."

Isaac Stout’s Story
The first house they came to they thought to be the place they were looking for. They raised their guns to shoot the man just entering the door, but he got inside too quickly. They approached the house and asked the man his name. He told them it was Sanford Skinner. "Well," said the officer, "you were lucky to get in the house so quickly. Where is Tom Stout?" Mr. Skinner told the gentleman he lived a short distance down the road, up a small stream to the left. They found Mr. Stout and his two boys at home -- one a young man, the other a boy of fifteen years. They saw the soldiers coming and could easily have made their escape, but as they were innocent of any wrong they never thought of trying to get away. Now we have the words from the lips of a man who was at that time a boy of fifteen years of age -- Mr. Isaac Stout, a wealthy farmer of Gilmer County, and one of the directors of the Burnsville Exchange Bank. Mr. Stout gives a vivid description of what followed. "The officer in charge of the soldiers had a black beard, black eyes, and was the most vicious looking man I have ever seen. He told us to fall in. My father says, 'Are you going to take the boy?' He replied, 'We are going to take all of you.' After crossing Salt Lick Bridge and going to within a short distance of where the cavalryman had been killed, they were told to halt in the middle of the road and prepare to die. Mr. Stout fell on his knees to plead for his life and the lives of his sons. While on his knees they shot him through the heart and then, running bayonets through his body, pushed him over the bank out of the road. The oldest boy started to run. When he jumped over the bank they fired at him and the powder from one of the guns burned his neck. The little boy walked up to one of the soldiers pleading for his life, saying 'Oh, don't kill me.' The soldier drew up his gun and said, 'Don't come near me.' At that he turned to see what was going on behind, when one of the guards fired at his feet with an old army musket loaded with round and three buckshot. The ball just grazed his head and the three buckshot hit him in the face. One entered the lower jaw and took off a piece of the bone and some teeth and out the edge of his tongue. His tongue is crooked today, but the
injury did not affect his speech. The other two buckshot lodged in his cheekbones and the scars are yet plainly visible.

The writer wishes to make this assertion, and there is not a shadow of a doubt about it: Thomas Stout and his sons were innocent of what they were charged with, or of any wrong doing whatever, as the child yet unborn. Mr. Stout says the shock knocked him to the ground, and while suffering terrible from his wounds he could hear the mob shooting at his brother, saying "Hurry up, run." But he made his escape and reached the confederate lines and joined the army, and it may be supposed that he did his duty well in legitimate conflict.

When the war ended the young man returned to his home, or, more properly speaking, what had been his home, for nearly everything had been destroyed. He lived and died near the scene of his boyhood home just what he had always been -- a peaceable, law-abiding citizen loved and respected by all who knew him. His whole life showed the general character of the man. He never raised a hand to resent the cruelty and injustice done his father and brother. Now we will let Mr. Stout finish this little narrative.

"While they were chasing my brother I raised up on my elbows and looked at my father. He moved his head two or three times and died without speaking another word. When the soldiers came back they looked at me and probably thought I was dead. When they left I got up and started through the woods towards Mr. Wyatt's farm. When near the house Mrs. Wyatt saw me and did not know me, although we were neighbors. Then I had to go through a field to another piece of woods. They could have easily tracked me by the blood on the weeds. When I came to the fence I was getting very weak and could hardly get over. But as soon as I crossed the fence I found a small spring of water, with a little hole dug in the ground. I drank some of the water and bathed my face in it until it looked like blood. Then with great difficulty I started up the hill toward Mr. Squires' farm on Salt Lick.

When near the top of the hill I found more water running over a ledge of rock. Here I tried to wash off the blood, but it had little effect. When I got down to Mr. Squires' fence I saw his dog and knew him. The dog came to me. Then I motioned Mr. Squires and Enoch Heater, who were working in the field, to come to me. Mr. Squires said, "I don't know you. Is there somebody killed?" I nodded my head. "Is there any other person hurt? I shook my head. Mr. Squires said, "I don't know you, but come with me to the house and I will dress your wound." When I started to walk Enoch Heater said, "That's Isaac Stout." I nodded my head. He knew me by my walk. We were raised almost in sight of each other.

After my face was washed I picked out a long piece of lead that was lodged in my mouth. It appears that my jaw bone had shaved it off as slick as if out by a knife. It was intended for me to stay in the house and have the dog watch for the soldiers, but they came too soon and found me in the house. I heard one soldier say, "Oh, never mind; he will die anyway." It was the same gang that had done the shooting. Then I went out in the woods and crawled under a big log, and next day mother and sister came down to look for me. I heard mother calling my name, but could not answer her. I somehow managed to get up and go and meet her.

My face and breast were swollen terrible and I had a high fever. Mother took me to a cold spring. She had towels and as soon as one was warm she would put another in its place. Then mother would say, "Do you feel any better?" I would nod my head. It was several days before I could take any nourishment except in liquid form. Then mother had to go to some officer and get a permit to take my father home and give him a decent burial in the orchard close by our once happy home.

Our family are all gone but myself. After the war, I went down to Ben Haymond's and saw a cavalryman's sword and carbine. I said "Where did you get those things?" He said, "I took them off the man you and your father were shot for."

Mrs. Mary E. Bragg, now a resident of Clarksburg, W. Va. and a sister of the writer, who was living with our mother, little sisters and one brother close enough to the scene of this tragedy to hear the guns firing, knew some of the facts of this raid, but they must be omitted because they are unfit for publication. After murdering Mr. Stout they came down to our house. The sight could be equaled only by savages. They appeared to be imbued with the idea they could kill everybody on suspicion. Mother sat down in a chair and commenced to cry. One of the soldiers, with his sleeves rolled up and blood still on his hands and bayonet came up to mother and shook his bloody fist under her nose, saying, "Here is the blood of one dammed sechs and if only I had your husband I would fix him the same way." My sister says they dug a little hole in the ground near the road, dragged Mr. Stout's body into it, covered it with a few leaves and a little dirt, and let it lay there for three or four days before his wife was allowed to remove it. When she came part of his face could be seen through the leaves and dirt. This is No. 1.

Samuel Singleton’s Story
Almost in sight of where this brutal murder was committed was another, which for cruelty and brutality, has scarcely been equaled in ancient or modern times. Whether or not it was done by the same persons we do not know. We only know they wore the uniforms of U.S. soldiers. About the same time there lived at what is now Heaters a well-to-do farmer named Samuel Singleton with his wife and four children. He was a man who believed in staying at home and attending strictly to his own business. And the writer wishes to say that up to the time of the Civil War he was the best friend I ever had except my father and mother. The last words I ever heard him say was when we were starting to join the army. I asked, "Are you going to join the army?" The answer was quick and decisive, "No, I am going to do my fighting at home." It is a well known fact that up to that time he was a man who had never known fear and his arm had never met defeat. But it has been related; and I think from a reliable source, that when the soldiers came into the country he lost his nerve completely. He buried his clothes and money and it has been claimed that the money was never found. He took his horse and rifle and went to the woods. A few days later a bunch of soldiers passing a house saw a small boy start out with something they thought looked suspicious. They placed the boy under guard and frightened him and made him tell where he was going. Then they made him pilot him to where Mr. Singleton was camped.

Here is the boy's story: "When he got in sight of his camp, he was sitting on a log apparently asleep with his hand down and his rifle lying across his lap. Then several of the soldiers fired at him without saying a word. When he fell off the log they rushed up and prodded him with their bayonets. Then they tied his hands and feet together and ran a pole through them and two men at a time would carry him on their shoulders. When they came to John Heater's house they laid him down in the road and went in and asked Mr. Heater, "That is Sam Singleton, my neighbor. He lived in that house right up there." "Well, that is who we thought it was." They took him on, as if he were a hog, to his own house and threw him down in the yard in front of his wife and children, and when they cut the cords off his hands and feet, he opened his eyes and looked at them, turned over and died without speaking a word. A few minutes later General Tyler rode up to the house, got off his horse, called for water and towel, and got down on his knees and washed Mr. Singleton's face and shed tears over the lifeless body of his former friend.

About General Tyler and Bushwhackers
It was the writer's privilege to be personally acquainted with General Tyler before the war, and he was every inch a man; but it appears that he had got into an Old Dog Tray scrape. I think it is safe to say without fear of contradiction that neither General Tyler nor the administration at Washington was to blame for the wrongs done the noncombatants. While there were bush-whackers on both sides, the fact was deplored by law-abiding citizens. It is a well known fact that the day Thomas Stout was murdered he had just returned from a visit to some of his neighbors to plead with them to refrain from unlawful acts, as it was certain to be disastrous for innocent people. Such was the character of Thomas Stout. Of that there is not a shadow of a doubt. Now in my declining years, when the shadows are growing longer and the sun of life is sinking low in the west, I can view these past events with a clearer conception than ever before. It has often been my wish to see some fair-minded historian like Flavious Josephus take up the leaders of both sides, place them in the scales of justice and weigh them impartially and without prejudice. Read the histories of both sides and you find they are conflicting -- written generally with bias enough to confuse man's judgment. Not all the wrongs were done by bush-whackers. Some of them originated at headquarters.

Looking Back

The Hampton Roads conference is a mystery. The order sent from Washington to destroy the Valley of Virginia and the forty mile swath through the state of Georgia with its blackened chimneys when the south was virtually whipped to a frazzle will be blots on the memory of those who engineered it while history endures. When they kindled these fires they started a blaze that will burn forever. But no fair-minded man can blame the whole administration at Washington for all this wanton destruction. If someone should ask me who, in my judgment, were two of the most exalted types of manhood on either side, I would say unhesitatingly, Abraham Lincoln and General Lee. So, if future generations chance to read these lines they may see they were not written in a spirit of revenge. I have several reasons for writing this article. I do not believe there has been heretofore a single line written on these tragedies, and it is my wish to do what I can in my feeble way to vindicate my friends, so that future generations may know the truth. Of the children of these two men, but one of each are today living -- Isaac Stout of Sand Fork, Gilmer County, West Virginia, and Daniel Singleton of Heaters, W. Va.

Those who know anything about these tragedies from personal experience are few, being Hedding Squires and wife, of Shaversville, W. Va., Joseph Taylor of Newville, W. Va., Mary E. Bragg and Mary Wyatt, both of Clarksburg, W. Va. Most of the old people living today were but children when the war between the states was going on and were too young to comprehend the full meaning of it. Few people will ever understand what a sad retrospection it brings to the writer of these lines. But old age mostly thinks backward. I have not the flow of the English language to express correctly the deep sorrow my heart feels for the cruel manner in which my boyhood friends were murdered. To do the subject justice I would need the eloquence of Robert Ingersoll and the pathos of Robert Burns combined.

Fred Riffle's Strawberries

This is a story of how a boy's mother helped him learn about being a farmer.
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Fred Riffle, born in 1907, was the son of Boss (Roy Merti) and his wife Den (Nancy Idena Skinner). He lived his life in the house that clung to a hill, overlooking Oil Creek Road at Posey Run. His father farmed, worked for the B & O and took other jobs, like hauling pulpwood. Boss and Den Riffle were valued participants in the community.
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Fred's only sibling, an older brother, died in childhood. Fred never married. Like most of the boys of his time along OIl Creek, Fred had only the rudiments of education, which he received at the Posey Run School. He worked for a while for one of the gas companies.

To the right is Fred with his folks Boss and Den Riffle.
To the left is a hand full of wild strawberries.
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There were not a lot of successes in Fred's life. This may have been related to Fred's fondness for alcohol. He was sober the last decade of his life. It was at that time, in the 1980s, that Fred sat with Minnie McNemar for an oral interview about his life and times on Oil Creek. Please double click on the box to the right to hear Fred tell his story of strawberry farming. This recording is part of the oral history collection housed in the archives at Glennville State College Library.


Transcription of Fred and Minnie's conversation about strawberries
Minnie: I know that you like to raise strawberry plants. Do you remember when you first started messing around with them?
Fred: Yes. I was messing around with these wild ones. I had a patch of them and they wouldn’t do no good much. If I got 5 gallon I thought I was one of the biggest strawberry men in the country.
And my mother orderd 50 strawberry plants, tame plants you know, and said, “Why don’t you set them out. You go ahead and set them out, You can have them, just tend to them.” And I set them out and next spring I picked 35 gallon off them 50 plants. And let ‘em run, make a lot of plants through the summer and I had a pretty good bunch of them
10 feet wide and 75 feet long.and I got 35 gallon . . .


For audio recordings of Fred's remembrances of moonshine and illegal booze operation see the June '07 entry The Moon Shines Along Oil Creek



Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Continuing a Musical Tradition

For samples of music of the area see:
Aug '07 B & O Train Meets Amos Henline’s Cow
Dec '06 The Ballad of Eugene Butcher

by David Parmer
Mention has been made within this website of the musical proclivities of the Henline and Blake families of the Orlando area. The Blake family of the Clover Fork area produced many fine fiddlers, as have the Henlines of Orlando. The musical talents of Sarah (Blake) Singleton and Red Henline, both of whom had roots in the Orlando area, have been featured in Goldenseal Magazine, a publication of the State of West Virginia.

Above left is Donald Lambert, Jr. playing his grandfather Bruce Brannon's violin. To the left are his grandfather, his grandmother Olive (Henline) Brannon, his uncle and his mom Joyce Brannon.
The Amos Henline family was the subject of the story about the Buzzardtown Tongue Twisters on this website. One of the members of this group was Olive (Henline) Brannon, a gifted vocalist, who unfortunately died prematurely when she was but thirty two years of age. Olive was married to Bruce Brannon of Vadis in Lewis County who was also a talented musician in his own right. Bruce played violin in the Glenville State College Orchestra and from time to time joined the Buzzardtown Tongue Twisters in providing musical entertainment.

Bruce and Olive Henline Brannon were the parents of Joyce Carole Brannon, also a graduate of Glenville State College with a degree in music. While a student at Glenville State College, Joyce, a gifted pianist and vocalist, was a member of the college orchestra and the college choir. Joyce has taught music in the public schools of West Virginia and has continued her love of music in community choirs and in church music in the Richmond, Virginia area for many years. Joyce has passed her love of music to her son, Donald Lambert, now an officer with the Henrico County, Virginia Police Department. A talented violinist, Donald, has displayed his talents on the violin with community choral groups and churches in the Richmond area. When he was sixteen years of age, Donald was selected to tour Europe with a youth orchestra as a violinist. The instrument Donald played with the orchestra was the violin used by his grandfather, Bruce Brannon, while he was a member of the Glenville State College orchestra and the Buzzardtown Tongue Twisters. Later, Donald was a visiting violinist with the Richmond Choral Society and was featured in concert as a soloist playing “The Arkansas Traveler.”
Musical talents heard by an early generation in the Orlando area have continued to entertain lovers of music of this day throughout this country by the generations which have followed.