You are Cordially Invited to Share Your Family Legends

My father's mother was unable to raise him, so when he was born he was taken in by his great grand mother, the 69 year old Sarah Palmer Arrowsmith. She was already taking care of his infant cousin, Irene. Suddenly she had two infants to feed, with barely the resources to feed herself. Being a resourceful Pennsylvania Dutch (German) woman who had raised 9 kids through hard times, she made a plan to solve the problem. Here is the version I was told by someone at least once, but it stuck.

In 1917 she walked from Bayard, Iowa to South Dakota to her son's farm. Got a cow and walked back, knowing she would have the ability to feed her great grand infants.

Well, I only heard that story once or twice, but as a child I was pretty impressed. Impressed enough that it stuck with me unquestioned. So much so that I occasionally told the story.

Then one day someone looked at me, laughed and said, "Do you really believe that!" Well, yes, as the matter of fact! But that was enough to break the spell. I figured out that even if great great grandma Sarah actually could have walked the 1000 miles, the cow certainly wouldn't have survived the trip back, certainly not and give milk to two infants.

Look at the picture and you can see the strength of spirit that is why I believed that she could have done it, that combined with real stories and I didn't question. But, no folks, no cow was going to do that and still give enough milk for two infants.

There was an interesting story about how my Grandfather Byrd's family got to Iowa. Briefly, his Grandfather Charles escaped Virginia with his brother Martin. It seems they had been stealing horses and were running for their lives. His brother stopped in Missouri while he went on to Iowa.

When I was 16 I had a slumber party. In one of those serendipitous 'fate' things, I invited a girl named Carla. We hadn't been getting along (gym class rivalries) but occasionally associated.

I don't remember how it came up, but I told her the story of Great Grandfather Charles. Shrieking, screaming, general teenage girl carrying ons ensued. Then Carla told her family legend about how her family ended up in Missouri.

Briefly, an ancestor Martin escaped Virginia with his brother Charles. It seems they had been working the underground railroad and were running for their lives. He stayed in Missouri while his brother went on to Iowa.

Having discovered we were cousins however distantly we bonded, however briefly, then remembered our rivalry. I wondered if this meant I couldn't date her cute older brother, but not for long as he didn't pay attention to me anyway.

Then and now I assume that two stories so similar told by families with no connections had to be true. Heck, even the brothers' names corresponded! This one is true, but which version?

The only difference was the horse stealing /underground railroad issue. However, in antebellum
Virgina, stealing horses and helping slaves escape to freedom were both issues of property, and frankly in Virginia I doubt they hung people for horse stealing. Wasn't that the old West?

The horse stealing had a certain romance to it, but the underground railroad makes me proud.

I confess that when I tell the story, it changes depending on whether I want my family to sound noble or notorious. Little white lie, but either could be true.

Above is the picture of my great grand parents Lulu and Andrew Byrd. You can see some sternness, the kind people displayed for picture taking then, but I hope you also see the history. Whatever the story, there is resolve there.

One of my earliest memories is my grandmother talking about her father, William Parr. He had immigrated from Canada to Los Angeles (when she could walk from one end to the other) and then moved his family to Winslow, Arizona. There he was the town carpenter/undertaker (a common combination in the day) and rose to prominence as a member of the first Arizona legislature. This is all true.

(BTW, Great Grandpa Parr was a great man. However, selling his land in 1900 in Los Angeles to move to Winslow, Arizona tells us that he was not a genius at real estate. But, however rich his progeny may have become had he stayed in Los Angeles, had he not made that decision Grandma would not have met Grandpa and you wouldn't be reading this lens, as I wouldn't be here.

Those are the ins and outs of family history)

When I went to visit once my great aunt took me out out town to a huge willow tree, the only one in the barren area. She said that William Parr, planted it to give shelter to travelers. That one I am going to believe, no matter what. I tell people who visit the area.

Grandma's favorite story was that he liked to brag that he was "six foot two in his stocking feet". That was more unusual in the 19th century than today.

In my 30's I was interested in family tree work. Mom's cousin put me in contact with another cousin who shared a lot of pictures and information with me.

He said, "My grandfather was the tallest of the brothers". I joked that there must be some rivalry because that is what my great grandfather claimed. I don't recall a friendly answer.

Not a big deal, but well, they weren't both right and it seems that I had uncovered was the rivalry.

You can see in the picture (with his mother in law) that he was an imposing character, tall, but was he the tallest or was it his brother?

This brings up another kind of ambiguity. Alberta Parr's mother died when she was young. A couple of years later her father remarried Frona Phillips, an enterprising young woman who had gone to Arizona, alone, to make her fortune. Very brave for a single woman in the 19th century.

When Alberta was 19 her step mother took her back to Iowa to visit her family. There she met her stepmother's nephew (son of Lulu Phillips and Andrew Byrd) fell in love and married. The rest is (my) history.

However, the family legend, sometimes joke, is that my Uncle Dorwin loved to tell lots of people that his grandmothers were sisters, thus his parents were first cousins. Ha Ha Lots of shocked looks all around. It was his favorite tease, technically true, but giving a very false impression.

So we have a subcategory of the ambiguous. One that is half true and well, not really true at all.

I recently came into contact with a high school class mate through Face Page. We are discovering that we should have been better friends 42 years ago as we have a lot in common. A published poet, he wrote this poem in honor of his grandmother:

Heaven's Rocker

by Curt L. Sytsma

Dedicated to Anna Barbara Schmidt (1852-1939)

There was labor, long and dreary,
In the working of the soil,
And a grandma's eyes grew weary
From the endless days of toil.
But life was graceful once a week,
If she but stood the test,
And, on a Sunday afternoon,
Her rocker gave her rest.

A pioneer in fact and soul,
Log cabin born and bred,
She learned too well the meaning of
"To earn our daily bread."
So this is what I wish for her,
So far beyond our shore:
May she rest in Heaven's rocker
For now and ever more.