Haley Family Stories (Part 4: Other Famous People in the Pierson Colonial Line)

On Friday, October 1, I’ll be 65 years old, officially a senior citizen. 

I love fall in general and my birth month in particular because I love what God does to the leaves this time of year when the colder weather freezes out the summer weeds that torture me. Our big maple in the backyard sheds enough beautiful leaves to give a whole neighborhood of kids something into which they can jump.

The only thing I’m not thrilled about this time of year is Halloween, which is a perversion of a day (All Saints Day) which was originally assigned to remember those who were martyred for their faith in Jesus Christ. While some churches still remember the original meaning, the demonic holiday Halloween has been so commercialized that even before my birthday, the stores begin to stock up on skulls, witches, and other occult symbols.

And, there’s another holiday celebrated October 31 through November 2, lesser known in the U.S., though it may be gaining traction soon. That is the Day of the Dead, celebrated throughout Latin America, but especially in Mexico. It is no less occultic. Both holidays are defended as being “harmless fun,” but they are both based on the concept of dead people (ghosts) who must be pacified in some way, so the traditional items for the Day of the Dead include a lot of skulls, decorated “beautifully” in honor of one’s deceased ancestors. There are skull masks and costumes everywhere, though why folks would want to dress up like a skeleton has always been beyond me, other than that it must be a satanic obsession.

Eric bought me a couple of items early for my birthday, since we were in town on Sunday. Down at the end of an aisle, I found a tee-shirt I loved, though I suspected it was really a Day of the Dead item. The front reads: “My ancestors are always cheering me on.” Yes, Eric did buy me the shirt.

Me, almost 65

This I know – it is a Biblical concept! If you are a reader of my blog, you know I’ve been talking about it: some portion of my ancestors are part of that great cloud of witnesses, who are rooting for me as I run this earthly race, maybe standing or seated on the sidelines watching me huff and puff towards the finish line. I would suppose most of us have these ancestors who are interested in our spiritual life, but they may be far back in the tree. The white European settlers in the New World (God bless them!) who married my Native American ancestors brought Christianity with them. (My part of this narrative is coming up soon!)

With that in mind, we can continue the tale of Eric’s family tree as he relates it. Some of the people in this post are those who are cheering and clapping when members of our family are overcomers. 

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TIMOTHY WOODBRIDGE SR.

 

Timothy Woodbridge Sr. appears to be the connecting point for several other notable ancestors. He was the father of Ruth Woodbridge, who was the wife of John Pierson, the son of Abraham Pierson Jr., and also was the grandson of Gov. Thomas Dudley, the second and recurring governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony. Timothy Woodbridge was the husband of Mehitable Wyllis, the daughter of Samuel Wyllys (an inquisitor in the Salem Witch Trial prosecution) and granddaughter of George Wyllys, early governor of the Connecticut Colony. Mehitable Wyllis was also the granddaughter of John Haynes, another Colonial American governor.

 

Rev. Timothy Woodbridge was the son of Rev. John VI and Mercy (Dudley) Woodbridge, (daughter of Thomas Dudley, Governor of Massachusetts). He was born on January 3, 1655/56 at Barford St. Martin, Wiltshire, England.

 

His father had sailed from England to Andover, Massachusetts, where he met and married Mercy Dudley, and after the birth of their first two children, the family went back to England, where Timothy and some of his siblings were born.

 

Timothy was the owner of slaves, both African and Native American, as were many of the wealthier families of the colonies, yet in his senior years, he taught school for African Americans and Native Americans. He, along with Abraham Pierson Jr., were two of the original Trustees of what would become Yale University. 

 

 

JOHN WOODBRIDGE VI

 

Rev. John Woodbridge was born at Stanton near Highworth in 1613 and was the sixth John Woodbridge to be a minister, with the first being a follower of John Wycliffe. Being a non-conformist to the dictates of the Church of England, he immigrated to America in 1634, purchasing land at Newbury, of the Massachusetts Bay Colony. He married Mercy Dudley in 1639 and was the father of Timothy Woodbridge.

John Woodbridge VI

 

      

GEORGE WYLLYS

 

George Wyllys was born in 1590 in the manor of Fenny Compton, Warwickshire, England. It is believed that he became a Puritan in his university years. He immigrated to the Massachusetts Bay Colony in the early 1630 and held several positions within the governing body, including Deputy Governor and Governor.

 

On November 2, 1609, he married Bridget Young at Holy Trinity Church in Stratford-on-Avon. The couple had three children before she died in 1629. In 1631 he married Mrs. Mary Brisbey, widow of Alexander Bisbey and daughter of Francis and Alice (Ferneley) Smith, and they had one son.

 

His family in England was wealthy and longstanding, and his estate in the Colony was impressive and included slaves. But on this estate was also a large oak tree that comes into the story of his son, Samuel Wyllys. 

 

 

 SAMUEL WYLLYS

 

The descendants of George Wyllys had a long history of serving Hartford. His son Samuel came to Hartford with his father in 1638. In 1654, when only 22 years of age, he was made a magistrate, a position which he held for many years. He was a prominent man in the colony. In 1659, Mr. Wyllys was appointed by the General Court to go to Saybrook and assist Major Mason in examining the suspicions there about witchery. He married Ruth, the daughter of Governor Haynes, and died at about 77 years old, in 1709.

 

The most widely known event in the life of Samuel Wyllys is one that occurred on his inherited property. From entries in Our Family Tree.org: 

“Anyone travelling along the north side of the Wyllys property, would have passed a huge oak tree. When the Wyllys house was built in 1636, the Indians were said to have pleaded with George Wyllys not to cut down the tree, saying that when its leaves were the size of a mouse's ear, they knew it was time to plant their crops. 

“Tradition also has it that when Joseph Wadsworth took action to prevent the surrender of the Charter to Sir Edmund Andros in early November 1687, he took it to the Wyllys home. Samuel was away on business in the West Indies at the time, in Antigua, where he had several sugar plantations. There was no safe place in the house to hide the Charter, so Samuel's wife, the story goes, directed him to hide it in a small cavity in the giant oak. She then put the watchdog and his house in front of that cavity. The tree has come to be known as the ‘Charter Oak.’ ” 

The image of that old oak tree is on the Connecticut commemorative quarter. I have proudly told many people that the tree on that quarter was literally our family tree. 

By Charles De Wolf Brownell - The Athenaeum: Home - info - pic, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=10157300   

 

JOHN HAYNES

 

John Haynes born in 1594 in Essex, England. In his book Remarkable Providences, Increase Mather considered it a miracle that John Haynes died in his sleep in his senior years without being sick. That was apparently unheard of. I remember reading that and thinking at the time how remarkable indeed that would be, until I learned that he died in 1654 at the age of 60. John’s father died when he was eleven and he spent his college years in towns that were popular with Puritans. In about 1630 he was invited by John Winthrop to join them in America where he and others had established the Massachusetts Bay Colony. John eventually became Governor of the Colony and then later a recurring Governor of the Connecticut Colony. John married Mabel Harlakenden in 1636 and they had 5 children, one of them was Ruth, who married Samuel Wyllys.

John Haynes

Mabel Harlakenden

 

THOMAS DUDLEY

 

There is so much to be written on Thomas Dudley that it would be better if you just looked him up yourself, but here are the basics. He was born in 1576 at Yardley, Hastings, Northants, England, the son of Roger Dudley and Susanna Thorne. He was from a long and famous line of Dudley’s descended from the early kings of England. He married Dorothy Yorke in 1603 and had many children (by two wives). Among those born to Dorothy were Mercy Dudley (who married John Woodbridge,) Ann Dudley (Bradstreet) an early American poet, and Samuel Dudley (who married the daughter of John Winthrop.) Thomas was the second and recurring Governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony, arriving with John Winthrop on the Arbella. He was also one of the signers of the charter establishing the school known as Harvard University. Thomas died in 1653.

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My favorite story in this chunk of Eric’s history is the part about Samuel Wyllys’s wife Ruth, and the Charter Oak. It is fitting that Eric should be proud of his heritage, and his “family tree.” Ruth isn’t the governor in his lineage or the sixth-generation preacher, but merely the faithful wife, who was home while her husband was away, but who knew she had to do something courageous during a crisis. (If you missed that story because you were skimming, go back now and check it out!)

What will you do when duty calls? Will you capitulate when the going gets tough? Or like Moses’ mother, or Corrie TenBoom, or like Ruth Wyllys ... will you do something brave, and end up on the “right side of history”? I pray that you who read these stories will be inspired to be strong and rely on the Living God for the strength and courage to always do what’s right. The tales may not always be told … but God knows them all. And they will be rewarded.

“He who despises the word will be destroyed, But he who fears the commandment will be rewarded.”

~Proverbs 13:13

" ‘And behold, I am coming quickly, and My reward is with Me, to give to every one according to his work.’ ”

~Jesus, in Revelation 22:12

Haley Family Stories (Part 3: The Patmore / Pierson Colonial Line)

Here’s where we resume the story of Grandma Rejonnah Haley’s family -- the Pierson side, which is the Colonial line.  Eric went on a field trip with Lisa and Emily when they were working on the 4-H Genealogy Project, to scout out and visit the now 210-year-old Abraham Patmore home.  It’s kind of like “... and Jacob dug a well there, which remains today.”  The owner of the house invited them in, and even gave them a bit of the mortar from over the original fireplace.

PATMORE/PIERSON

      

The Patmore family first settled in America before the American Revolution. Abraham Patmore, son of Henrick Patmore and Maria Dorothea Zimmerman, was born in Ulster County, NY in 1772. He married Elsie (Velde) Felter in 1796 at the Hopewell Presbyterian church in Crawford, which was a part of the town of Montgomery, Orange County, NY. Their son, Mathias Felter Patmore was born in New York in 1803. Shortly afterward, the Patmore’s moved to Montgomery, in Hamilton County, Ohio which the Felter Family had recently founded. Abraham bought land from one of his neighboring relatives and built a house there, which still stands today. 

The Abraham Patmore home in Montgomery, OH -- photo by Eric Haley

Mathias Felter Patmore later married Elizabeth Felter, his first cousin. Together, the families helped to establish the Hopewell Presbyterian Church in Montgomery, Ohio and many of them are buried in the Hopewell Cemetery. The Felter’s in America were descended from Johannes Maximillian Velde, who arrived in America before 1732 and married Margaret Hendricks. This line developed into a variety of surnames including Velde, Velden, Velten, Velte, Felten and of course, Felter. They were mostly associated with the Brick (Dutch) Reformed Church of Orange County, NY. It is uncertain why or how they became Presbyterians.

 

Mathias Patmore was the father of Andrew Patmore, who married Sarah Jane Pierson, daughter of a wealthy local merchant, Lewis Pierson. Lewis Pierson was the son of Samuel Pierson, an early Ohio settler who is thought to have received land in exchange for military service during the American Revolution.

 

Samuel Pierson was born in 1762 in Morris County, New Jersey. As a boy he followed the events leading up to the American Revolution and enlisted at the young age of 15, in time to be with Washington at Valley Forge. He belonged to the 5th New Jersey Regiment and was severely wounded a few months later at the Battle of Monmouth in 1778. He partially recovered from his wounds and continued the fight until the British surrender at Yorktown. 

 

Returning home, Samuel found that his house had been used to quarter Hessian soldiers (German soldiers who fought for the British) and it was left in shambles. So, he packed up and moved, to build a new home in the Ohio wilderness now known as Cincinnati.

 

Samuel’s father was Captain Wyllis Pierson, born in 1728, the son of John Pierson and Ruth Woodbridge. From here, the family genealogy branches out to include many of the greatest men in American colonial history. 

JOHN PIERSON

John Pierson, born in 1689, was the son of Abraham Pierson Jr. He was what was referred to as a “New Light” Presbyterian vs. an “Old Light” Presbyterian. The “New Lights” believed in a personal experience with God and were considered “Evangelicals” by the “Old Lights,” who were against any type of personal evangelism. He was one of the four founding fathers of Princeton University in New Jersey, along with Aaron Burr Sr., the father of the more famous Aaron Burr. 

 

ABRAHAM PIERSON JR.

 

Abraham Pierson Jr. was born around 1643 in Southampton, New York. He was the first Rector of Yale University, located in New Haven, Connecticut (1701-1707). The first semester was attended by only one student, with Mr. Pierson serving as the instructor. By 1704, there were twenty students, and most of them were boarders at the Pierson home with Abraham’s wife Abigail (Clark) serving as hostess. Abraham died in 1707. A statue in honor of him was erected in the later years of the 19th Century, on the old campus, which was originally known simply as The Collegiate School.

Tribute to Abraham Pierson Jr. at Yale University

 

 

ABRAHAM PIERSON SR.

 

Abraham Pierson Sr. was born in 1609 in Yorkshire, England, and according to the Yale Office of Public Information, immigrated to Boston in 1639 to escape the hostility of Archbishop Laud. He was a Cambridge-educated minister of the Church of England, and after arriving in The Massachusetts Bay Colony, spent a brief time as pastor at Lynn, Massachusetts, then moved to Long Island, where he helped found the town of Southampton. Not long after that, he moved to Bradford, Connecticut to pastor there.

In 1640 or 1641, he married Abigail Wheelwright, the daughter of the early Puritan judge John Wheelwright and Mary Hutchinson. It is, however, uncertain if this was the mother of Abraham Jr. There were apparently two Abigails in the life of Abraham Sr., and the records of which one was John Jr.’s mother are in dispute.  

Abraham Jr. was born a short time later, and father and son worked together for many years in the ministry in Newark, New Jersey. Abraham Sr. also ministered to the Native Americans, translating the Scriptures into their language. 

Ministers, non-conformist Puritans escaping persecution for their beliefs, founders of theological seminaries, Bible translators and teachers of native Americans, governors, battle-hardened soldiers ... 

These were educated people who fought bravely for what they believed in: freedom and the Gospel of Jesus Christ. This is the heritage from Eric’s mother’s family. You only have to reach beyond the drunken grandfather and find the forefathers who inspire, who will be waiting “on the other side,” and whom you can emulate with pride. These, my children and grandchildren, are a part of the Great Cloud of Witnesses. 

“Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.

“For consider Him who endured such hostility from sinners against Himself, lest you become weary and discouraged in your souls. You have not yet resisted to bloodshed, striving against sin.”

     ~Hebrews 12:1-4

Will you make these ancestors proud as you courageously fight the battles of the 21st Century?

Go and do likewise!

When They Come For Us

When a pack of wolves attacks a flock of sheep, they never make a shoulder-to-shoulder frontal attack. No, they attack a single sheep in the rear – a straggler, one who is vulnerable.

Photo by monicore from Pexels

In fact, this is how the Americans fought the British. Even when greatly outnumbered by a disciplined, well-trained army, our side was able to pick off the ones in the rear from behind a tree, before the rest of them knew what was going on, striking fear into the hearts of those who were still at risk. It’s a good strategy. And it worked in our favor then.

Mel Gibson plays a colonist waiting to pick off Redcoats 

as they march by, in “The Patriot.”

Fast forward to 2021.  Have you ever seen this poem? It’s about a different war – World War II – but it is relevant today, and we need to review it.

First They Came

First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—

Because I was not a Socialist.

Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out—

Because I was not a Trade Unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—

Because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.

  — Martin Niemöller

As you know, the Nazi’s always “came” to take away the “undesirables” from among the German people and from the nations they had conquered. Some were mentally ill or mentally challenged. Some were homosexuals. A large number were Jews, upon which they laid the blame for their society’s ills. And some were political prisoners who opposed what the Nazi’s were doing, like Corrie TenBoom’s family or Pastor Martin Niemöller, quoted above.

The first step was to single these people out for jeers and mockery, an eerily similar technique to what Joe Biden did in his Covid Mandates speech last week. He said:

“The vast majority of Americans are doing the right thing. Nearly three quarters of the eligible have gotten at least one shot, but one quarter has not gotten any. That’s nearly 80 million Americans not vaccinated. In a country as large as ours, that’s 25% minority. That 25% can cause a lot of damage, and they are. The unvaccinated overcrowd our hospitals and are overrunning emergency rooms and intensive care units, leaving no room for someone with a heart attack or pancreatitis or cancer.”

Translation: Unvaccinated people are bad. They are causing hospital bed shortages and killing people.

“This is not about freedom or personal choice. It’s about protecting yourself and those around you, the people you work with, the people you care about, the people you love.” 

Translation: Hang your personal freedoms, including your freedom of speech, freedom of religion, and freedom to make your own medical decisions. You unvaccinated people are a danger to your family, your co-workers, and society in general. 

“We’ve been patient, but our patience is wearing thin, and your refusal has cost all of us.” 

Translation: It’s us against you and you against us, and that means most of society is against you. Mr. McGee, don’t make us angry. You wouldn’t like us when we’re angry.

“For the vast majority of you who’ve gotten vaccinated, I understand your anger at those who haven’t gotten vaccinated.” 

Translation: We are all angry together. It is acceptable and encouraged to blame you unvaxxed people for society’s ills, … so now you’ve been warned.

“Let me be blunt. My plan also takes on elected officials in states that are undermining you and these life saving actions. Right now, local school officials are trying to keep children safe in a pandemic while their governor picks a fight with them, and even threatens their salaries or their jobs. Talk about bullying in schools.

“If they’ll not help, if these governors won’t help us beat the pandemic, I’ll use my power as president to get them out of the way.” 

Translation: They’d better go my way, or it’s the highway. 

I’m nearly 65 now, and I’ve never heard anything like this. It is hard to imagine exactly what he means, but it is a clear threat. Is he “coming” for the red state governors first? Is this the way he uses his “bully pulpit”?

This so-called “president” is NOT acting very presidential. He is in full attack mode, not against ideologies or even other politicians, but against everyday people. He is not saying that he disagrees with your ideas, but that you personally are evil. You are destroying our nation. You are over-burdening hospitals. You are killing others. You, who are the people with whose consent he is supposed to be governing. This is not the voice of a unifying leader. It sounds like the Mafia, but whatever it is, it is clear his power has gone to his head.

“Today, tonight, I’m announcing that the Transportation Safety Administration, the TSA, will double the fines on travelers that refuse to mask. If you break the rules, be prepared to pay.”

Translation: If you do not submit, we will take your money.

There was much more. Biden claimed that the vaccinated needed “protection” from the unvaccinated, while still claiming that the vaccinated were as safe as they could be. And, he put the burden of some of his mandates on all private employers with over 100 employees, who would be facing orders to make their employees comply or fire them, or to be fined $14,000 per violation (Per day? Per week? Per employee?)  

Since his speech, it is notable that some hospitals have been refusing service to the unvaccinated.

I cannot go into detail about what’s in the Covid shots, their detrimental effects and the medical reasons for refusing the shot, the disparaging of and withholding of life-saving therapeutics in the early stages of the disease, etc. But I do know that the mockery, anger, and blame game is in full swing. It won’t be long before police will be instructed to look the other way as angry mobs attack a “straggler” – a singled-out unvaccinated person. After all, rage is excusable in this country already, over such day-to-day things as a policeman using his weapon to stop a violent criminal from committing a violent crime. If it is an acceptable reaction to steal purses, shoes, and wide-screen TV’s from a store after bashing in a window, then certainly an attack on a stranger with a difference of opinion would also be acceptable, because the attackers were “triggered.”

What will it look like? At first, only one sheep at a time.

Last summer, there were a few governors in a few states, who insisted that ALL churches in their state must remain closed, while allowing liquor stores, Walmarts, and abortion mills to remain open. When they “came” for the pastors who did not comply, did we look the other way? One Romanian church in Chicago had their parking lot barricaded. But … we’re not in Chicago, or we’re not Romanians, … so do we let them bear the persecution alone?

Keep in mind that by and large, most of the religious objectors to the Covid shot are those who believe in the sanctity of human life. All of the so-called “vaccines” either have aborted baby fragments in them, or they were tested on the tissues grown from cell lines of aborted babies.

And most pro-lifers – not all, but most – are Christians.

Will we look the other way if it’s a Catholic church that is urging its parishioners not to be bullied into taking the shot? Because we’re not Catholic?

Or will we look the other way if it’s a Pentecostal church that is telling it’s members that taking the shot is taking the Mark of the Beast? Because we’re Pre-Trib?

Or will we look the other way if it’s a Jewish synagogue whose congregants are convinced that it is a second Holocaust? Because … we’re not Jews?

Or how would it be if your church has already endorsed the Covid shots as a way to prevent illness? Will you stand with those who are against the mandates, even though you’ve had one? (Or two, or three?)

When will they come for the rest of us? If the trajectory does not change, the lessons of the past are these. 

To begin, they will teach and instruct people to marginalize and hate, and the people will be easily swayed.

Then, they will take the undesirables to a “safe place” (read: “slum”) away from society. (In Australia, they have them in place already; they call them “Health Control Buildings.”)

Then, they will clear out the “safe place” and relocate the scum to concentration camps.

Finally, these people will be euthanized. Although, that word supposedly means “good death.” It might not be.

When these low-life unvaccinated folks are “out of the way,” then their property is up for grabs. 

In Luke’s account, when Jesus was asked about the Last Days, He was quick to tell the truth about the matter:

“Then He said to them, ‘Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. And there will be great earthquakes in various places, and famines and pestilences; and there will be fearful sights and great signs from heaven.

‘But before all these things, they will lay their hands on you and persecute you, delivering you up to the synagogues and prisons. You will be brought before kings and rulers for My name's sake. But it will turn out for you as an occasion for testimony.

‘Therefore settle it in your hearts not to meditate beforehand on what you will answer; for I will give you a mouth and wisdom which all your adversaries will not be able to contradict or resist.

‘You will be betrayed even by parents and brothers, relatives and friends; and they will put some of you to death. And you will be hated by all for My name's sake. But not a hair of your head shall be lost.

‘By your patience possess your souls.’ ”

~Luke 21:10-19

Hated by all … arrested … dragged before rulers … killed. Naturally, that was the “cup” Jesus Himself would have to drink shortly after he spoke those words to His disciples. 

They came for Jesus in the middle of the night, when most people were asleep. Jesus was “disappeared.” After His crucifixion, they began searching out his followers. They came for the One, and then they intended to persecute all those who believed in Him. Saul of Tarsus was one of the Jewish “thought police” of his day.

You may say, “Yes, but this is the United States of America. It can’t happen here. We have the rule of law here. The lawyers will battle this out in court. The Supreme Court won’t let us down – we have Amy Coney Barrett now!”

But you have to keep in mind that In 2019, we never would have believed how much of our liberty would be missing in 2020. We who believe in Jesus and have read His prophecies know that we are much closer to the time of the fulfillment of those prophecies than His disciples were. Do you see how this could be played out? Things are moving very quickly.

What must we do?

First, we must start with the poem above. We must all speak out for one another, against the tyrants of our day. We must never be content to let it happen to “them” because we are not “one of them.” When we see our fellow citizens being tyrannized, persecuted, singled out, we must step up and defend them, give them dignity, give them our support, shield them from hurt. This includes healthcare workers, food service workers, and federal employees and contractors. It also includes the employers with over a hundred workers who really don’t want to push the leftist agenda at the workplace. It may require a large demonstration to get enough attention.

Do. What’s. Right.

Second, we must not bend the knee ourselves to tyrants who would play God, especially in our country, where we have no kings and where our leaders are supposed to be serving the people. The more we allow, the more will be mandated. We must never surrender our human rights or Constitutional rights “to get along.” There’s already pushback, which I am more than happy to see. Twenty-seven states are challenging the mandates and Ben Shapiro’s Daily Wire is only one company that has already decided to fight the 100+ employees mandate, even though Ben Shapiro himself is a believer in the Covid shot’s effectiveness. Good for them! 

Third, let the Holy Spirit speak through you when it comes down to it. If you are asked to testify in days to come, God will give you the words you need, just when you need them.

Fourth, endure, and keep your wits about you. Jesus said, 

“But he who endures to the end shall be saved.

~Matthew 24:13

“ … and lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age. … “

~Matthew 28:20

What greater assurance have we than this?

Fifth, keep looking up, for our Redemption draws nigh!

“Dear Father in Heaven, for You are our Father in Whom we can always trust, we ask that You would give us, Your people, the endurance and courage to stand and fight the spiritual war that is raging all around us. The fact is, the sworn enemy of our souls hates us and wants us to live in fear. We pray that you would send your peace into the heart of Your Church, and that we would only become more determined and bold to speak up for the oppressed and testify of You before men, to stand up to tyrants, and to keep looking up in anticipation of Your soon return. For it’s in Jesus’ Name we pray, Amen.”

Haley Family Stories (Part 2: The Patmore Side)

Here’s the second part of Eric’s family stories, the one about his mother, and about her ancestry. By the time I met her, she had become an empty nester, since Eric was the youngest of the family. I don’t think Rejonnah and I knew what to think of each other, since I was really not used to the quiet life of Midwest empty nesters. (I know – that’s me now!)

As they worked at the antiques store together, Rejonnah and Eric’s father Leonard made a good team. She was budget conscious, and he had a knack for what might sell. But it seemed all they could talk about were those antiques and what had sold at the shop today, which I knew zero about. Or, there was the discussion of how well their steak, cooked to perfection year-round on Leonard’s ingenious basement grill, had turned out.

But Eric was the only one of his siblings to settle down in Indiana, and as the years went by, we raised a passel of kids, who were curious and messy enough to cause a bit of consternation to Rejonnah, as she tried to keep a tidy house. After a while, she must have decided we were just crazy, and after she settled in her mind that her son was going to keep me barefoot and pregnant, she took to removing everything on low shelves when we came over. Still, she was a staunch defender of our homeschooling project and was proud of how smart and cute her descendants were.

Emily came in handy! She was hired to help her move furniture and do deep cleaning in her apartment once a week. And when it just became too much work for her to invite our whole family over and cook a Thanksgiving meal, we brought Grandma to our house for the occasion.

But now, let’s let Eric tell the stories he has found out about his mom:

****

REJONNAH JANETT PATMORE

Rejonnah (Patmore) Haley, 

“stuck” behind another picture in the family scrapbook.

 

If you could ask my mother, she would tell you she was named after her drunken father. She was the daughter of John Franklin Patmore and Audra Electa Oxley. Her middle name is not on any of her official records, and she was known as “Jonnie” to most of her friends, but my father always called her Rejonnah for as long as I can remember. 

My mother’s father John was in and out of their home. She told me that he was mean when he was sober. “He would give us money when he was drunk, but when he was sober, he’d take it back.” She had little respect for him and was mostly raised by her maternal grandparents during the Great Depression, as her mother traveled to find work. 

My mother spent some time living in Cincinnati, near or with distant relatives while her mother worked, but most, or should I say the better part of her childhood was spent on the small farm of her grandparents, Sam and Pauline Oxley. They raised her well, gave her a good education, modeled a good work ethic and made certain that she attended church. She was born in Chrisny, Indiana in 1924 and was baptized into the Christian Church at age 6 in Birdseye, Indiana. She graduated from Birdseye High School and sometime afterward took a job at the Sunbeam Electric Plant around 1943. Sunbeam had been converted over to wartime production. This is where she met my father, Leonard E. Haley. Connected to the Sunbeam complex was the Republic Aviation Company which produced the P47 aircraft. Just before or just after they were married (25 Sept. 1944), she began working as a riveter on the production of this war plane.

 

After the war was over and production ceased, she moved to Lafayette Indiana, where she became a part of the Haley family until Leonard came home from Japan in 1946. 

Rejonnah with her oldest child, Gayle, at 3 mos. old

From that time on, she had a closer relationship with my father’s family than with her own. 

Growing up, we occasionally visited her mother, or she came to visit us.

Thanksgiving around the kitchen table,

with Grandma (Audra) and Bryant (her second husband), 1966.

Eric is on the left – that’s his back.

More often, we might visit her younger brother Sam. But my mother found the real warmth of family and friendship with Dad’s brothers and sisters. My Aunt Eva became her special friend and was so until Rejonnah’s dying day.

Rejonnah and Leonard raised four children, sometimes on a meager income. We mostly wore hand-me-down clothes, but never felt poor. We often ate white beans and cornbread, but I had no idea that we were not living in the lap of luxury. That was my favorite meal. 

The Haley siblings, with Eric in his mother’s arms.

Standing, L to R: Greg, Elaine, and Gayle

 

My father became ill at the age of 38 and had to go to the Cleveland Clinic for a heart surgery, so my mother started working again, using her wartime production skills. She continued to work until my father got back on his feet again. A few years later, they started their own business, Leonard’s Antiques and Used Furniture, first with weekend hours only, and then after a few years, full time. They worked together, turning it into a profitable venture as well as a hobby. 

 

When my father died in 1988, she sold the store to me and retired. At that time in her life she started going to church again, renewing that relationship with God that she had sort of put on the back burner. Every Sunday, Rejonnah and Eva would go to church together. 

 

My mother had her own heart issues and finally had to get a valve replacement. I was there afterwards when she asked the doctor how long the heart valve would work. 

His response was, “The rest of your life.”  He was correct. 

A few months before my mother’s death, I mentioned that I expected that one day I would make my daily visit and find her dead. She said she was okay with that, as long as she was in her bed and not on the floor. “So what difference is it?” I asked. 

“About two feet! I want to die comfortably.”

 

I got a visit from the County Sheriff just one day after her 75th birthday to tell me that my mother, Rejonnah Haley, had passed away. She had died in her car on a cool morning, with the keys in the ignition, but with the car not running. Afterwards I went to pick up her car, and I sat for a while in the front seat and leaned my head back. “Yep!” I thought.  “This is what she asked for.”  My mother finished well, and she died comfortably.

 

 

JOHN FRANKLIN PATMORE, JOHN LEWIS PATMORE, ANDREW PATMORE

 

All I remember about my grandfather is the shadow of a figure in a rocking chair. Slowly, the rockers creaked on the wooden floor of an upstairs room as I pretended to be asleep, and when the rocking stopped, I watched as the figure got up and went out the door. I remember asking about him in the morning, and I was told that the shadowy figure was my grandfather. I didn’t even know I had a grandfather. That was the only time I ever saw him.

 

John Franklin Patmore was born in 1902 in Spencer Co., Indiana. He died in 1976 and is buried at Little Pigeon Cemetery in Spencer Co., near the gravesite of his parents, John Lewis Patmore and Sybilla Frances (Pierce) Patmore. His youngest son, James D. Patmore, is buried next to him, dying in obscurity from the ravages of alcohol abuse like his father.

 

There were 4 children born of John F. Patmore and Audra Oxley. My mother was the oldest. Those 4 children gave him 15 grandchildren. This is according to his obituary, though I count only 11. There stands his one achievement in life: nothing more and nothing less.

John Franklin Patmore and Audra Oxley

 

John Lewis Patmore was born in 1866. He was the son of Andrew Patmore and Sarah Jane Pierson. John married Sybilla Frances Pierce, a girl from his hometown in Spencer Co. Indiana.

John Lewis Patmore and Sybilla (Pierce) Patmore

Together they had 5 children, two of whom died in infancy. I remember my mother speaking fondly of her Aunt Sadie and I was able to take her to visit her Aunt Ada sometime in the 1970’s. It’s nice to know that my mom had a good relationship with her aunts as well as her grandfather before he died in 1952.

 

Andrew Patmore was born in 1825 in Hamilton County, Ohio. He was the son of Mathias Felter Patmore and Elizabeth Felter (a first cousin). In 1850, Andrew married Sarah Jane Pierson, just a couple of years after his brother Jacob married her sister Margaret. The sisters’ father was Lewis Pierson, a wealthy Ohio merchant, and it is said that he gave each couple 1,000 acres of land in Indiana. They traveled to the Little Pigeon Creek area of Indiana along the Ohio River. Along the way, there was a tragedy and one of those on the raft fell off and drowned. I remember that her name was Elizabeth, and she may have been another sister. (Much of this information was told to me by a descendant of Jacob Patmore.)

When the Civil War began, Andrew and Jacob drew straws to see who would go fight and who would stay home and tend the land, and take care of the families. Jacob drew the short straw and went off to war. He was killed in battle at Hatchie River, TN in 1862 with his last words being, “Oh my poor family.” Jacob’s widow, Margaret, remarried and sold her 1000 acres of land to Andrew. 

This caused contention in the family with suggestions that Andrew stole the land. The land was no doubt divided up at least among Andrew’s 14 and Jacob’s 10 children upon Andrew's death in 1888, which may account for the fact that there are currently no large Patmore land holdings in Spencer County.

 

This family is always easy to identify in public records, as one of Andrew’s children was named Andrew Sweat Patmore (never a popular name that I am aware of). My mother says she remembered her Great Uncle Sweat, and that he always seemed to have honey in his beard when he hugged the children. (Maybe they should have named him Sweet.)

From here on, in this line, is an incredibly rich American colonial heritage that must be discussed in greater detail, so I shall come back to it next week.

***

We’ve re-done our family tree poster that had faded in the sunshine, but some lines would have gone far past the edge of the paper, and some still lack enough information to fill out the blanks. What’s interesting is that some of the lines of our ancestors are the ones we’d like to forget about because of their memorable sins, but far beyond them are actually important and respectable people. Likewise, some of the most disrespected of them have begotten respectable descendants.

Therefore, it is so important to avoid being obsessed with disrespect and shame over a particular ancestor, and see beyond it. Well over a year ago, I had a dream, that God spoke into my mind, saying, “I am the God of your fathers.” Those were clearly mine … but which ones? Answer: they are the ones from whom I can draw inspiration. I hope that these stories that Eric and I are finding have served to do that for you. Even if your own parents have failed to inspire, how about your grandparents? Their parents? A different side? A different line?

I can always go back to someone from the very distant past, since so many of us hook up somewhere to British royalty. But what if my inspiration is better served, not by a coat of arms from one of the lines, but by the understanding and conviction that an ancestor loved God and that I will see them in Heaven? 

To my children and my children’s children: Grab hold of a few of these stories. Keep a picture of one of these ancestors on your wall if you want. Strive to make them proud of you. Someday, they will be waiting at the finish line, and they will want to give you a bear hug.