A Cruel November

by David Parmer

It was an anxious November on Riffle Run for the widow Dochie (Graff) Vankirk. It was the second anniversary of her husband's death. Jim had died in 1942. Of her six children, Helen, 21 years old, was still at home and the older girls had married and were busy raising families. But both her sons had been drafted. Young John had been pulled from high school and Charles had been still a newlywed when the draft took him. Doshie watched each day for Pres Bragg, the Route 2 Orlando mail carrier, hoping that a letter would come from one or both of their two sons serving in the United States Army in Europe. It had been a cold November. Snow had fallen on several days and a crust of icy snow lay on the ground. The radio news sounded optimistic that the war would soon be over and her sons would be coming home, safe and sound. But soon the news would come in telegrams from the War Department. It would be a cruel November for the Vankirk family.

The James and Dochie Graff Vankirk Family

James Vankirk, born in 1877, was the son of Robert Vankirk and Etta Riffle Vankirk. In 1910, James married Dochie Graff, the daughter of James Graff and Mary Ellen Blake. James and Dochie took up married life on the left fork of Riffle Run and joined together as a peaceful farm family. Children came fast for Jim and Dochie. Daughters, Rose, Retha, and Olive were first three born, followed by the first son, Charles Henry, who was born in 1919, the fourth daughter, Helen, and the youngest child, John, who was born in 1925. In 1926, the oldest daughter Rose married Pearl Wine. The following year, Rethe married Emmett Conrad, son of Dr. Ord Conrad and Effie (Ocheltree) Conrad. The third daughter Olive married Lester Mick in 1935. Charles Henry also decided he liked the Mick family and married Lester’s sister, Charlene in 1942. By the time the Vankirk’s peaceful farm life on Riffle Run was changed by bombs falling from the air at Pearl Harbor, only the two youngest children, Helen and John were unmarried. John was a sophomore at Burnsville High School and Helen was at home. The oldest son, Charles Henry was employed in Akron and living there with his bride, Charlene.

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Top left: Doshie (Graff) Vankirk

Left above: brother and sister, John and Helen Vankirk

The Vankirk Family. back row: Henry, Rethe, Olive, Doshie, Jim, Rose. front: Helen, John

Death of the Father

James Robert Vankirk was a timber man. In his younger days, when he was known as “Jim Bobby,” there was plenty of timber in northern Braxton County, and many trees had felt his axe and cross-cut saw. In 1942, although the easily reached tracts of timber had long been cut, there were still pockets of hard-to-reach timber on the ridge dividing Oil Creek and Little Kanawha waters that a timber man with a portable sawmill could cut for the landowner. Although he was 65, Jim still felt like a young man when he was in the woods looking up at a tall tree, visualizing which way it should fall.
In early November 1942 however, Jim did not go to the woods because he was too sick to arise from his bed. Dochie sent for Doc Trimble in Burnsville who shortly arrived in his 1937 Chevrolet, with bag in hand. The doctor gave Dochie the bad news that Jim was suffering from typhoid fever and that his condition was sure to get worse. For ten days the ravages of the disease made steady progress in Jim’s weakening body until it prevailed. As war raged in the Pacific and in Europe, Jim died on November 20, 1942. It was a cruel November for the Vankirk family.

Right above: James Robert Vankirk
Right below: John Vankirk

Selective Service Calls for John

A war in Europe and a war in the Pacific being fought on an all-out scale devoured the ranks of young American men. More and more manpower was needed by the armed services and the Selective Service System was up to the task of furnishing it. John was still in high school when he turned eighteen years of age, and Uncle Sam said “I Want You.” John was inducted into the United States Army in December 1943.

On D-Day, June 6, 1944 Private John Vankirk now part of the 121st Infantry Regiment of the 8th Army Division, had been on a transport ship in a convoy half way across the Atlantic. Two weeks later, as the first light of day illuminated the sea and wispy fog evaporated into the early dawn sky off the coast of Normandy, the convoy, warships of every description, filled the sea to the horizon. The sight was astonishing and terrifying, depending on from which side the view was seen. Such an invasion armada had never before been seen. It was a time of history.

John was off loaded on the Normandy beach. His infantry regiment had received its training at Camp Croft in South Carolina and had left in convoy for Europe in May 1944. John Vankirk recalls that the convoy trip to England took 28 days and he was “sick 31 days of them.” John was well enough to go up on deck one day and recalls that there were ships as far as the eye could see. The convoy arrived in England on June 16th, 1944 and two days later the regiment was again in landing ships and was being ferried across the English Channel to Utah Beach at Normandy.

In the early 1800’s, John Vankirk’s maternal great-grandfather, Andrew Graff, left Germany and came to America, not only for the opportunities it offered, but to also avoid the chronic generational wars which plagued the European continent. It seemed cruel irony that, in June 1944, a hundred years after his great-grandfather left Europe to avoid war, John Vankirk found himself face to face with the German Wehrmacht in western France in a fight for his life.

Upon landing in Normandy on June 18th, the 121st Infantry Regiment immediately engaged in hotly contested battles with entrenched German forces in the western-most peninsula of France. Protected by hedgerows and heavily fortified pill boxes, the German forces were skillful fighters and did not give up easily. By the end of September 1944, and after nearly 13,000 casualties, the 8th Division finally secured the Crozon peninsula. Fortunately, John Vankirk emerged from this campaign battle weary but unscathed. The war was not going so well, however, in northeastern France. In early November 1944, John and the 121st Infantry Regiment were transported by train to eastern France to the edge of the foreboding, and German occupied, Hurtgen Forest.

The Hurtgen Forest

Roughly fifty square miles in size and situated along the Franco-German border, the Hurtgen Forest was thickly covered with fir trees, with few openings or clearings, and crossed only by trails. The forest was dark and dank, and stiffly defended by German forces well familiar with its terrain, and well armed with the dreaded 88’s and other equally deadly artillery pieces.

The battle for the Hurtgen Forest had started in September 1944 but had gone poorly. Air support and tanks were mostly useless because of the cover of the forests and the inability to know the location of the enemy. German artillery adjusted the fuses of artillery shells to explode on contact with the treetops which resulted in a downward blast of shrapnel and splintered wood. Needless to say, foxholes were useless in providing cover from these direct overhead blasts and casualties mounted. At the end of November, John and Company “L” were slowly advancing through the low-hanging fir branches when the tell-tale scream of the German 88’s brought the unit’s advance to a halt and a frantic search for cover. For Private John Vankirk there was no cover as hot shrapnel dug deeply into the top of his shoulder. It was not a fatal wound, but for the time being, the chunk of metal which had shattered his collar bone, rendering his arm useless, ended his further involvement in the fight for the Hurtgen Forest. John became one of the 33,000 American casualties to German artillery, mine fields, and snipers to fall in this wooded cathedral for the dead. The American forces finally routed the Germans from the Hurtgen Forest in February, 1945, five months after the initial assault.

Left above: map showing the Hurtgen Forest
Right: photo of the fighting in Hurtgen Forest

Meanwhile, John had been evacuated to a military hospital in secured France where the shrapnel was removed and surgical repairs were made to his collar bone. He spent two and a half months recuperating from his wound. After arriving at the hospital, the obligatory Western Union telegram was sent to his mother, Dochie (Graff) Vankirk, advising that her son John was wounded in battle. Little did John know, but his mother just the week before had received another military telegram informing her of the death of her oldest son, Private Charles Henry Vankirk, who died on November 26, 1944 of wounds received in combat. It was another cruel November for Dochie Vankirk. After a two month stay recuperating at a military hospital somewhere in France, John returned to duty with the 121st Infantry Regiment throughout the remainder of the war in Germany. Afterward, John and his regiment were re-posted to Camp Lucky Strike in France to ready for re-deployment to Japan. Then there was Hiroshima and Nagasaki and the end of the war for John.

Charles Henry Vankirk

Born on Riffle Run in January 1919, he was known to his family and friends as “Henry.” His first brush with education was at the Riffle Run School which was a short distance from his home. In 1933, after completing eight grades, he began high school at Burnsville, a three mile walk over the rock-based road built by convict labor from the state penitentiary at Moundsville. The Depression was a bad time to start high school; times were hard and money was scarce, and an able bodied young man like Henry felt an obligation to leave school and help support his family. Consequently, Henry left school after his freshman year and went to Clarington, Ohio for employment. Henry’s sister, Olive, and her husband, Lester Mick, also lived in Clarington, and were a big help to him. Henry was a good worker. Even though times were tough and jobs were scarce, he worked steadily enough to support himself and to send a little money home. Henry also found time to take a shine to Charlene Mick of Fleshers Run, the youngest sister of his brother-in-law Lester Mick; and that “shine” led to something permanent. Henry and Charlene were married in March 1942.

The Selective Service Calls for Henry

The initial World War II military draftees were single men and at first the pool of single men was more than adequate to fulfill the needs of the military services. However, by 1944 the requirements of the military exceeded the ranks of single men and consequently married men without children were placed in line for conscription. In April 1944, Henry received an induction notice from the Selective Service Board in Monroe County, Ohio and was sent to Camp Fannin, Texas for basic military training. To answer the call by the War Department for more troops, green, inadequately trained soldiers were quickly processed through rudimentary training and by October 1944 Henry was in France with his military unit, the 26th Infantry Division.

Right: Henry Vankirk
Left: 26th Infantry Division Patch

A November Without End

The Moselle region of northern France is a picturesque place in normal times, much visited by tourists. However, during two wars in the 20th century, many young men found Moselle to be a deadly place, despite the rolling hills, placid rivers, and romantic fields of grapes and wheat. To a country boy like Henry Vankirk, the scene was pleasing, but fraught with danger.

Private Charles Henry Vankirk was in France just more than a month when he suffered his mortal wound. He did not see the rolling hills, placid rivers and romantic fields of grapes and wheat. The France he saw was cold, muddy, ear-splitting noisy, and deadly.

Today, sparrows fly high over the Moselle and the white crosses of the many military cemeteries which are the final resting places for the tens of thousands of American servicemen who fell on the soil of France during the second great war of the 20th century. Although Henry’s mortal remains were first interred in the United States Military Cemetery at Limay, France, a silent companion to his equally silent comrades, his mother Dochie felt that Henry, her oldest son, would be better off buried in the home of his shortened youth. Petitioning the government for a re-burial, the mother’s request was granted. Henry was re-interred by military funeral in the family cemetery on Riffle Run, there to rest until his government once again asked for another sacrifice from Henry for the construction of the Burnsville Dam.

We remember our fathers and uncles, now our grandfathers and great uncles, only a few still living, who saved the world 65 years ago. Let us remember them all, living and dead, on Armistice Day November 11.

Dumpling Run Tragedy

by David Parmer

Storms clouds had been building throughout the day. Even though it was daytime, it was dark as evening. Thunder was rolling with the sound of potato wagons on a hard rock road. Lightning was illuminating the sky and casting eerie shadows in the narrow Dumpling Run valley. Livestock on the several farms located on the run were fidgeting with each roll of thunder or crack of lightning. The rain came slowly at first, cooling the hot baked ground, but soon became steady and heavy. Before long the rain was beating down on the tar paper roofs of the houses on Dumpling Run. Kerosene lamps which had been lit to cope with the dark seemed to struggle and their flickering became pronounced as the heavy rain caused drafts to flow through the cracks in the doors and the gaps in the floorboards. The normally placid Dumpling Run began to flow swiftly and water crept up the banks of the confined creek. Ollie Vankirk and her barely school-aged foster daughter Jean sat hunched at their kitchen table. Despite the smell of bread baking in the stove, unease filled the tiny house perched on the bank of the run. Forty-four year old Ollie was worried about their milk cow which was tied up in the barn by the creek. This June 21st of 1937 was dark and it was hard to see the creek although it was easy to notice the roar of the water growing louder and louder. The roar was becoming ominous. Ollie’s husband Homer was not at home. He had left on foot earlier in the day to visit a doctor in Sutton, twenty-four miles away. No one was home to help Ollie in this time of peril.

Left, above: Ollie Vankirk
Right, above: two photos of Oil Creek at the mouth of Dumpling Run during the flood of 154
Left: Oil Creek near Dumpling Run in Summer, 2008, at its usual level.

Ollie and Homer Vankirk
Ollie and her husband were tenant farmers on the Frank Crutchfield farms which adjoined on Dumpling Run. In exchange for keeping the farm clean of brush and tall grass and taking care of the owner’s cattle, Ollie and Homer lived rent-free on the Crutchfield farm. This was a period of hard-times throughout the country and especially in Braxton County. The Vankirks were lucky to have a roof over their heads for there were many homeless people living in lean-tos along railroad tracks. Although the house provided no modern amenities, the Vankirk family had a place to sleep and the farm provided the rest of the necessities of life. However, Homer suffered from poor health. Although he was only fifty-one years of age, he was plagued with heart disease which limited his ability to handle the heavy work of a farm. Fortunately for him, Ollie was strong and a good helpmate so they were managing to get by.

Right: Olie and Ressie on Decoration (Memorial) Day

A Crisis in the Barn

Ollie became alarmed as she saw the water rapidly rise into the barn and heard the loud mooing of the cow. The water was rising unbelievably fast as she struggled to open the barn door against the current of water. Struggling through the water-filled barn, she finally reached and untied the terrified cow. It was difficult to turn the cow in the swift water which was already up to its haunches. The water kept rising as if a year’s worth of rain had been dumped all at once in Dumpling Run. After righting the cow, and starting it toward the barn door, Ollie was struggling, but losing, her battle with the deluge of water between her and safety. Who can say what she should have done? Some speculate that if Ollie had held on the cow’s tail, she would have reached safety. Unfortunately, Ollie didn’t, and she lost her battle with the raging water.

Left: click on the newspaper article to read it.
Right Ressie and "Sweetpea" Jean

Aftermath

Unaware of the crisis on Dumpling Run, Homer Vankirk had taken refuge from the driving rain in a barn somewhere between Sutton and Burnsville and spent the night there. Arriving home the next day, he learned that his helpmate had been lost to the water but her body had not yet been found. It would be more than a week before the lifeless body of Ollie Vankirk would be found about a mile below Burnsville near the home of Foss Heater. Had it not happened that her long hair became tangled and ensnared on a tree branch, her body may have met the same fate of other flood victims on the Little Kanawha River who were never found.

The melodious bell of St. Paul’s Methodist Church in Burnsville rang out to announce the funeral of Ollie Vankirk. The church was full of friends, family and curiosity-seekers, who were saddened by the death of their neighbor. She was laid to rest in the Quickle Cemetery above Burnsville. Today, the cemetery is a pleasant place to visit and has a beautiful view of the Burnsville Dam and the impounded waters of the Little Kanawha River.

Less than two years after his wife was laid to rest in a beautiful spot, Homer Vankirk died of heart disease at the home of his foster daughter, Mrs. Ressie Wilson, on Oil Creek. He, too, shares a spot in this picturesque burial ground. Ollie and Homer lie peacefully together and time, in its passage, has softened the horror of the flash flood of Dumpling Run of 1937.

Left: Ollie Vankirk's death certificate

Tragedy on Dumpling Run

Many thanks to Ressie Wilson and her daughter Margret Willey of Burnsville for their assistance with this story. Also providing information for the story was Harry Vankirk of Clarington, Ohio, Mabel Wine of Weston, and Jim Godfrey of Weston. The late Jean Vankirk, the foster child of Ollie Vankirk, related the events of the tragic day to her foster sister, Ressie Wilson.

Dumpling Run is the first creek that empties into Oil Creek just before it meets the Little Kanawha at Burnsville.

Left: Ollie (Mollithan) Vankirk

Right: The story from Clarksburg Telegram June 22, 1937. Double click on each page of the article to enlarge it. Here is an excerpt:
"A missing housewife is believed drowned and damage of more than $100,000 is reported. . . . The missing housewife is Mrs. Ollie Vankirk, 52, who was last seen in the door of the barn at the family home on Dumpling Run, near Burnsville, when the storm broke about 5 p.m.. Mrs. Vankirk, witnesses said, disappeared when the barn was washed from its foundation beside the run and collapsed as it struck a nearby tree. . .
"The railroad bridge between Burnsville and Orlando was washed out and it was said by a track foreman that trains would not run in that section for at least three days. He said the tracks had been loosened by the water.
"The county bridge across Oil Creek at Orlando was washed out against the railroad tracks and C. W. Knight reported four feet of water in his store there.
"The Posey Run school was washed from its foundation and turned completely around.
"Garages and other businesses were washed out along Dumpling Run, it was reported."

by David Parmer

Storm clouds had been building throughout the day. Even though it was daytime, it was dark as evening. Thunder was rolling with the sound of potato wagons on a hard rock road. Lightning was illuminating the sky and casting eerie shadows in the narrow Dumpling Run valley.

Livestock on the several farms located on the run were fidgeting with each roll of thunder or crack of lightning. The rain came slowly at first, cooling the hot baked ground, but soon became steady and heavy. Before long the rain was beating down on the tar paper roofs of the houses on Dumpling Run. Kerosene lamps which had been lit to cope with the dark seemed to struggle and their flickering became pronounced as the heavy rain caused drafts to flow through the cracks in the doors and the gaps in the floorboards. The normally placid Dumpling Run began to flow swiftly and water crept up the banks of the confined creek. Ollie Vankirk and her barely school-aged foster daughter Jean sat hunched at their kitchen table. Despite the smell of bread baking in the stove, unease filled the tiny house perched on the bank of the run. Forty-four year old Ollie was worried about their milk cow which was tied up in the barn by the creek. This June 21st of 1937 was dark and it was hard to see the creek although it was easy to notice the roar of the water growing louder and louder. The roar was becoming ominous. Ollie’s husband Homer was not at home. He had left on foot earlier in the day to visit a doctor in Sutton, twenty-four miles away. No one was home to help Ollie in this time of peril.

Left: Ollie and Ressie with their home-made flower arrangements on Decoration Day at Stringtown in Burnsville during the 1920’s. They were on their way to the Quickle Cemetery to decorate graves.

Ollie and Homer Vankirk

Ollie and her husband were tenant farmers on the Frank Crutchfield farms which adjoined on Dumpling Run. In exchange for keeping the farm clean of brush and tall grass and taking care of the owner’s cattle, Ollie and Homer lived rent-free on the Crutchfield farm. This was a period of hard-times throughout the country and especially in Braxton County. The Vankirks were lucky to have a roof over their heads for there were many homeless people living in lean-tos along railroad tracks. Although the house provided no modern amenities, the Vankirk family had a place to sleep and the farm provided the rest of the necessities of life. However, Homer suffered from poor health. Although he was only fifty-one years of age, he was plagued with heart disease which limited his ability to handle the heavy work of a farm. Fortunately for him, Ollie was strong and a good helpmate so they were managing to get by. According to Ressie Wilson, her foster mother, Ollie Vankirk, was always lending a helping hand to her neighbors and strangers alike and provided care for other foster children. Ollie was soft-spoken and caring. She had many friends.

A Crisis in the Barn

Ollie became alarmed as she saw the water rapidly rise into the barn and heard the loud mooing of the cow. The water was rising unbelievably fast as she struggled to open the barn door against the current of water. Struggling through the water-filled barn, she finally reached and untied the terrified cow. It was difficult to turn the cow in the swift water which was already up to its haunches. The water kept rising as if a year’s worth of rain had been dumped all at once in Dumpling Run. After righting the cow, and starting it toward the barn door, Ollie was struggling, but losing, her battle with the deluge of water between her and safety. Who can say what she should have done? Some speculate that if Ollie had held on the cow’s tail, she would have reached safety. Unfortunately, Ollie didn’t, and she lost her battle with the raging water.

Aftermath

Unaware of the crisis on Dumpling Run, Homer Vankirk had taken refuge from the driving rain in a barn somewhere between Sutton and Burnsville and spent the night there. Arriving home the next day, he learned that his helpmate had been lost to the water but her body had not yet been found. It would be more than a week before the lifeless body of Ollie Vankirk would be found about a mile below Burnsville near the home of Foss Heater. Had it not happened that her long hair became tangled and ensnared on a tree branch, her body may have met the same fate of other flood victims on the Little Kanawha River who were never found.
The melodious bell of St. Paul’s Methodist Church in Burnsville rang out to announce the funeral of Ollie Vankirk. The church was full of friends, family and curiosity-seekers, who were saddened by the death of their neighbor. She was laid to rest in the Quickle Cemetery above Burnsville. Today, the cemetery is a pleasant place to visit and has a beautiful view of the Burnsville Dam and the impounded waters of the Little Kanawha River.

.Left: Ressie (Vankirk) Willson and her sister Jean Vankirk

Less than two years after his wife was laid to rest in a beautiful spot, Homer Vankirk died of heart disease at the home of his foster daughter, Mrs. Ressie Wilson, on Oil Creek. He, too, shares a spot in this picturesque burial ground. Ollie and Homer lie peacefully together and time, in its passage, has softened the horror of the flash flood of Dumpling Run of 1937.

The home of Ollie and Homer Vankirk on Dumpling Run was taken for construction of I-79 as it descends into Burnsville. The farm is still owned by the Crutchfield family.

below: Ollie's death certificate