Introduction
I have had this article in mind and in draft form to some degree since last Tuesday. The Ferrell clan can run on “Ferrell time” (i.e., slow) at times. My Ferrell slowness is showing only because of recent circumstances.
Papaw Ferrell
Marion Ferrell, who had no middle name, was my paternal grandfather. He was born on Tuesday, 4/13/1880, as accurate records verify, not on 4/13/1879. He left this world on Saturday, 11/21/1970. I was ten years old when he passed on. Asleep in bed, I remember my father awakening me by leaning over and whispering, “Your Papaw Ferrell has passed away.”
Last Tuesday, 4/13/2021, I remembered Papaw Ferrell's birthday while working from home. Did any other member of Papaw Ferrell's branch of the Fearghail clan remember? I wonder. I am sure that some did. As an aside, we Ferrells can trace our lineage back to the Fearghail clan from County Longford in Ireland.
Starting on 11/21/2013, I have been collecting PDF records of Ferrell genealogy. I also have the 6/26/2019 update, which is a 375-page record. A distant cousin has been doing the research. His findings seem to be as accurate as they can be and are greatly appreciated. What follows below is a brief genealogical record. The numbers indicate generations. For example, “2” was the child of “1.” The PDF records, which I have, greatly expand the genealogical lines.
1: John Ferrell, my great-great-great-grandfather, 1780—date of death uncertain
2: John Ferrell, Jr., my great-great-grandfather, 1802—date of death uncertain
3: James Robert Ferrell, my great-grandfather, 1856–1920
4: Marion Ferrell, my grandfather, 4/13/1880–11/21/1970
5: Earl Ferrell, my father, 9/17/1927–1/25/2008
6: Marion William Ferrell, me, 7/17/1960—whenever the Lord calls me home
The above article and photograph are from The Rogersville Review, 4/17/1958, Thursday (weekly) edition. The publication date was four days after Papaw Ferrell turned 78. The information in the article is exactly correct.
In the 1908 photograph, Papaw Marion Ferrell was standing between the derrick, which are the vertical poles. Years before he passed, my father had an original photograph enlarged, enhanced, and duplicated. One of those photographs hangs prominently on a wall in our living room.
In 1908, Papaw, age 28 at the time, had been drilling water wells for seven years, having started his business in 1901. The 1908 photograph was taken in the Snowflake community in Caney Valley, Hawkins County, Tennessee. The location was near the southern base of Clinch Mountain. Papaw's 1905 model Koger well machine was driven by mule or horsepower. In 1908, Papaw Ferrell had drilled the well for Mr. Dinsmore, the thickly bearded man standing farthest to the right in the back. In 1958, my father, Earl Ferrell, was using a Cyclone cable drill at the time.
The next two images are from my father's business card. I still have several of them put up in a safe place. The first image is from the back of the business card. It is the same as the above photograph.
The next image is the front of my father's business card.
Granny (Molly Gertrude Archer Ferrell) and Papaw Ferrell were my paternal grandparents. I remember them very well. In my mind, I still see the old homeplace where my father and his brothers and sisters were raised. Eventually, they had electricity connected for lights. A hand pump near the sink brought well water to the kitchen. They did not have indoor toilets. The two-seater outhouse was sufficient. A big tub near the wood-burning kitchen stove was for baths. As a child, I took a few baths in that tub.
The Ferrell family remembers several historical facts of family heritage. I wish to encourage my first cousins to write books or journals for publication to record these memories. Granny and Papaw raised six sons and two daughters. Farming, gardening, hunting, and trapping fed the family. There were many changes over the years.
Their life back then was harder, but it was simpler. A man knew where another man stood. Truth was truth, and facts were facts. Straightforward words could hit home when needed. There was a lot of love. The “L” word (love) was demonstrated by actions, not by simply saying it. The “L” word was unspoken. Love, however, was shown by caring acts.
Papaw Ferrell was not bothered by phone calls, texts, emails, website articles, heat and air unit problems, plumbing trouble, washer/dryer problems, vehicle trouble, and such. Granny and he never owned a vehicle. Papaw walked or hitched a ride to town as needed. Papaw and his sons cut firewood, fed livestock, killed hogs in season, farmed, and did other chores. Dad told me that his back trouble started when Papaw wanted to get in the last load of hay. Dad was worn out, but he helped anyway. He felt his back pop. His back troubled him for the rest of his life. Dad continued to drill wells, lifting heavy drill rods and well-casing, and do other types of hard physical labor. He endured.
I wonder if any of my cousins will comment on this article. I hope they do. Come on, cousins, man or woman up! It is the Ferrell way! We need to write a book, which will put in print all of our verbal stories.
Conclusion
I have said for many years that I was born too late. I wish that I had been born in 1760 or at least 1860. (I could have been my own grandpaw!) I was born when I was born, however, to godly parents. That was fine. A person cannot choose when or to whom he is born. I am not complaining. I am thankful for my heritage.
Heritage has deep roots. The Fearghail clan, along the John Ferrell line, has deep roots. Well, most of us do. Family strength based on moral absolutes from God builds good communities. Good communities build good states. Good states build a good nation.
As I conclude, do you see what the socialists have been doing for decades? Destroy the family with social programs that pretend to help the family. That destroys communities and states. It is what is destroying our once-great nation, even as I write. “Come on, man!” This once-great nation needs a spiritual awakening that starts in the home.
Yesterday, at 5:59 PM, I heard the microwave oven beep. Supper was ready. I was hungry and decided to eat without publishing this article. By the way, wait for a sad but everlastingly joyous forthcoming article. It is only in my mind right now.
Monday, 4/19/2021, postscript: Today, I finally published this article, such as it was. I have at least two more articles in mind, but not on paper yet. One will be a tribute to a high school classmate who left this world too early at the age of 61. I will see him again. He is having more joy than can be imagined now. At supper time, I'm signing off for now.
No comments:
Post a Comment