George Whitfield: Frank and Roxie's Son

I was reading a post on AfriGeneas, a web site devoted to african american genealogy when a surname caught my eye.

The person was looking for an ancestor of theirs by the name of Whitfield. After trying my best to help find the family the poster was looking for I had to take a break. My mind kept going into a different direction back in time to another Whitfield family.

George and Merry Hamilton Whitfield

I remember as a teen I would go over and spend some week-ends with the Whitfields. We would all pile up in the bunkbeds and talk until we got sleepy.
Come to think of it, we were whispering until we got sleepy.

Usually the next morning the house was bustling with everyone doing what chores they had to do, and off to the kitchen for breakfast.

I am always in stitches because Patty was trying to sing while she cooked. I can hear her now singing this one song "Peanut,oh oh oh oh oh oh Peanut".

Uncle George, one of the nicest people in the world didn't have to much to say but had the nicest smile you could imagine. He was also a very compassionate person.

I remember the time when I wanted to move to California. I did not have a job yet but planned on staying with my mother until I found one. After his daughter Ernestine asked him if he could drive me, the only thing he said was that we would have to wait until the week-end because he had to work.

True to his word, Uncle George gassed up his truck and the three of us headed to California.

We pulled up to my mothers house, unloaded everything from the truck
and put all my belongings in the garage. Uncle George and Ernestine then headed back to Phoenix.

Well I made the mistake of making a long distance call back to talk to Stine two days later.
I was so homesick that Ernestine talked Uncle George into driving back and get me.
If I had rented an apartment and signed a lease I would have been in plenty of trouble because I was not there for a good week.

Curious about his life, here is a tad bit of what I found:

George Whitfield was born to the parents of Frank (Ms) and Roxanne (Rockey)Settles Whitfield (Ark) in Boley Oklahoma. The Marriage License for Frank and Roxie shows they were married in Arkansas.




According to the 1920 census the family lived in Depew Oklahoma

























You have to always pick up and move when you have mouths to feed, and it must have been hard to leave the memories of home along with the ancestors that I am sure were in Frank and Roxie's vision.

George along with his parents,brothers Otto and W C came to Arizona and took residence in Liberty Arizona. Their father Frank worked at the Gillespie Dam and his son were laborers doing farm work.

After losing his wife Roxie in 1924 Frank re-married a lady by the name of Harriett and found work as a general farmer.


George's father passed away April 28th 1940 at the Booker T Washington Hospital in Phoenix Arizona at the age of 76.


Frank and Roxie raised a good man who left an impression on me and I am sure to all those who came in contact with Mr George E Whitfield.

Aunt Mary was just the opposite of Uncle George. She could always make you laugh.
In fact I never saw her without that wonderful twinkle she had in her eye or that ability to tell a little joke or two.
She was also a church going lady who loved getting on on Sunday and head over to
First Institutional Baptist Church where she was quite active.

I took a look at her ancestors. Whoa, Uncle George!! What have we here. This wonderful lady who caught your eye has some powerful ancestors with a story to tell in her line...Stay tuned for Awesome

Memories And A Cup of Coffee

For the past 21 days my family and I have been on a fast. We were on a spiritual mission through our church ministry for those who wanted to participate along with our Pastor. We could pick something that we had or did daily that would be hard to do without.

My daughter and I picked sweet tea, bread and coffee. My grand daughter Taylor picked bread, sweet tea and vowed to be nice. (smile). My grandson Tyler chose to not play with his wrestlers, not watch wrestling on TV and refrain for the rest of his life to not tell a fib or be a bad boy.

When the day finally came to end the fast, my granddaughter and I headed for the local Quick Trip at 12:10 A.M. in the morning.

Sweet tea was the only thing on our mind. We each took a big gulp, put the lid back on and headed back home to get in the sack. We vowed to finish the next day, even if it was watered down tea.

That one gulp sure tasted good to me. LOL

The next thing I did when I got up this morning was to get my electric percolator, put it back together and brew me a good pot of coffee.

As that coffee aroma filled the room and the percolator made those sounds so typical of the brewing coffee hitting the top of the lid of the little glass fitting, you could see the coffee changing colors to a deep rich brown.

I suddenly started to smile because my thoughts went to two of my very favorite people who had graced my life at one time or another.

My Uncle John Morton and my ex - father in law Floyd Mitchell.

Now my Uncle John was my first exposure to how good breakfast was to a human being. He lived in Marshall Texas and worked for the Texas and Pacific Railroad.

When I was younger I went to visit for the summer. I would get up early in the morning just to eat breakfast with my Uncle John.

My Aunt Carmena would cook him rice, sausage and eggs with those good old home made biscuits.

Then there was his coffee. My oh My!! It was as if his eyes lit up when he took his sips. First he gently blew to cool and then he would sip.
I was intrigued because Uncle John would pour him a cup of coffee

He would then take that which he had just poured into the cup, transfer the liquid to the saucer and drink it like it was something special.

I asked him once why he did it that way. Was it to hot to drink,or what? Heck I figured if that was the case he could wait until it cooled down and then drink from the cup. His answer was short and sweet, "taste better this way" and as he smiled he then went back to his breakfast ritual, blow and sip, blow and sip.
My Uncle John was a man that was short with his words but those few words sure meant a lot to me.

Uncle John was born in Camp County, Pittsburgh,Texas on April 25th 1899 to the parents of Robert and Mollie Huff Morton. He passed away on June 15th 1975 in Harrison County, Marshall Texas.


Now my ex father in law Floyd Mitchell lived in Altus Oklahoma and he too loved his coffee.
In fact he could drink coffee all day long no matter if it was winter, summer, spring or fall.

The back burner on his stove at 720 West Wright stayed nice and hot as the old coffee pot slowly cooked to his perfection.


I called my father in law Dad. Now dad would pour him a cup of coffee into one of those old white thick cups which seemed to have an endless supply of strong black coffee.

I don't remember him pouring his into a saucer just from pot to cup to mouth. Hmmmm hmmmm,hmmmm.
I can see him now drinking that steaming hot cup of coffee as he was frying those delicious fried peach and apple pies he made to sell at the Cotton Compress.

Floyd Mitchell born 1901 in Saline County, Hempstead, Arkansas to the parents of Joe and Nancy Cryor Mitchell. He passed away in Jackson County, Altus Oklahoma in 1965.
I don't know when he arrived in Altus Oklahoma but thank God he did or I would not have met him.

I sure miss those two men and I am so glad that they were in my life.

Memories live on in our lives that cause us to smile and reflect. Especially the good Memories that tug at your heart.

A Labor Of Love And All Who Labor

To All Those Who Labored And Labored



And Labored And Labored



To Those Who Helped Pave The Way For Them That Labored



A Phillip Randolph was born in Florida in 1889. He Organized the Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters in 1925 and finally granted the rights to have a union in 1936. This bold and long venture helped the many black men working for the Pullman railway cars known as Pullman Porters.

Be They Female Laborers



Johnnie Tillmon was born in Scott, Arkansas,in 1926 to a migrant sharecropper.
After moving to California 1959 she went on to be a union shop steward in a Compton laundry. Tillmon organized workers and became involved in a community association called the Nickerson Garden Planning Organization which was established to improve living conditions in the housing project.

Or Male Laborers



Isaac Myers was born in Baltimore Maryland on January 13, 1865 to free parents. At the age of 16 Isaac went to work with a ships caulker and soon became a skilled worker. After a strike among white caulkers and carpenters against the black workers, Isaac helped to found the first union of Black Caulkers in the ship building Industry which eventually bought their own shipyard and railway.

The Proof is Undeniable



Nellie Stone Johnson a farm girl from Minn was born in 1905. She was a union organizer and the first African American Vice-president of Local 665 Hotel and Restaurant Employees Union in Minn.

And Selfless Beyond Measure



The daughter of a sharecropper, Moranda was born in 1915 in South Carolina but later moved to North Carolina where she helped to unionize the Tobacco workers to gain better working conditions.


To all those who fought for the rights of others so that they may have a better life, and better working conditions. To the American workers who no doubt are the best America has to offer be they union or non union.

Dime Box Texas to Good Old Arizona

Dime Box is one of those names that I never forgot. I thought that it was a funny name when I first heard it years ago after finding out my friends mother was born there. Texas is a big state and has plenty of names that are intriguing.
I had a chance to dig a little to see where it was located and how the name came about.

Dime Box is a little town in lee County Texas. I am told that the name came from a local tradition before the federal post office was located there.
The small community was named Browns Mill at first and settlers deposited outgoing mail and a dime in a small box inside of Joseph Brown's office
for a weekly delivery to Giddings.

There was also a community by the name of Brownsville and mail was being mixed up between the two towns.

The post office in Browns Mill closed in 1883 and reopened a year later.
The Town so I am told was renamed Dime Box to eliminate the prior confusion regarding the mail deliveries. Old Dime Box transitioned into New Dime Box.

There was however no confusion when a little baby by the name of Christina was born in Dime Box to Homer and Ola Mae Haislip, the proud parents. Some folks spell the name Heslip.

Ma Stine is what I called her as well as everyone that knew her. I first met Ma Stine somewhere around 1956 or 57 when I went to her house in Mesa Arizona
with a couple of her children.

It was on a Monday and I went to hang out there until it was time to go skating.
Over time I met all of Ma Stine's children from the oldest sons Willie and Robert Lewis to the youngest son Arvis.
The girls were Ruth, Dorothy, Alice, Helen and Carrie.

Over the years the relationship grew, not only with the children but with the parents as well.


Ma Stine was married to a wonderful man known as "Chick" whose real name was Adolphus Hicks. He was also a character and he worked hard to feed his family. He also had a green truck and would use it to haul food scraps to feed the hogs that he raised.


From Mesa the family moved to Phoenix and so did all the laughter and good times.
In the household was Ma Price, Ma Stine's mother. She was a wonderfully spry lady who had us in stitches as well.

I do believe to this day that it was the camaraderie that the whole family had was the reason people loved being around.

I did not really know how to drive but in my haste to get over to the Hicks house,
I did the unthinkable when my mother went to sleep. I took her car!!

It was a white Chevy stick shift and I jerked all the way to Hadley street just so I could get in on the fun. When it was time for me to go back home, Carrie had to drive me back and Arvis followed in his car.

Needless to say I had stripped the gears and I can still see my mother trying to figure out what happened to her car. Did I own up? Noooo, No, Noway, not until many years later! You know how they used to say that they would knock you in to next week. Well,next week would have been to soon for me to try and make my way back to earth if I had confessed.

I gave Ma Stine my phone number just in case she needed me to take her somewhere if the kids were busy.

I got my call on several occasions when night time hit. I didn't mind one bit because I loved talking to her.
I found out later that she had me sneaking her over to the Po Keno House. I don't think she thought her daughters wanted her to go and play that poor mans bingo.
She loved going and playing even though she could not see very well later in life.
She would get her keno slips and her bottle tops and listen to the caller call them numbers out loud. B and that's a 5, or I and make that a 15. !!!

Most of the time when I would take her, I would sit back in amazement and watch the folks laugh and talk until the next time they met.

As I was thinking back and reminiscing, I decided to see if I could find them in Dime Box in the 1910. And boy did I hit pay dirt.


The 1910 Census for Dime Box Lee County lists Christina at age one enumerated with her grandparents Ruben and Mary J E Hornsby. There is another grandchild Henry who was two years old. The other children of Reuben's were Nelly,Dave,Isabella,Clinton and Henrietta Freeman. Also listed in the household was mother Christiana Mitchell who was eighty seven years old. I am not quite sure if this was Reuben's mother or Mary's mother because of a source I also found has Mary Elizabeth listed with a maiden name of Mitchell. I am wondering if this is who Ma Stine was named after.

I did not see Ola Mae and Homer in the house hold but they may have been out working somewhere.
I did find fifteen year old Homer though in the 1900 Census in the household with his parents Benjamin and Emily Heslip. Also listed were Benjamin Jr, Willie, Arther, Ida and Robert his siblings.



The next time I saw Christine was in the 1920 census. Since people traveled around for work it was no wonder that the Hornsby's were found in Fayette County Texas.



Same scenario but this time Christina is listed as nine years old, and in the household are children David, John C, Sylvia Davis and her son Willie. There is also a boarder by the name of Samuel Brazell living with them. The Hornsby's must have went looking for work in a group because there are several Hornsby families living several houses down.

When Christine's mother Ola Mae married William Price, her second husband, they moved to Arizona taking along nineteen year old Christine and her infant son William McDuffy. I found them living in Goodyear Arizona in 1930 where William J was a Laborer in a cotton camp. I was surprised, because I was thinking they would have been in Mesa.



Last stop Phoenix! The journey has been well worth it. Ms Christine Hicks sure caught my attention. She started off making a mark in Texas and ended up leaving a legacy in Phoenix Arizona. Well done Ma Stine, well done.

Sentimental Sunday: Gorgeous George and Aunt Carmena

I am hard pressed to see what drives people to look at the World Wide Entertainment(WWE) wresting shows much less go to the more than expensive matches.
My daughter saved her money so that the thrill could be enjoyed by her son Tyler and daughter Taylor. My daughter did not tell Tyler that she had tickets and I missed the look of joy on his face when they pulled up to the arena and saw where they were going.

For some reason the other night wrestling came into my mind and my thoughts went back years ago when I was in Marshall Texas and staying with my Aunt Carmena Morton whom everyone called "Sister" and her husband my Uncle John.

The ritual at the house was, after dinner, we would retire to the living room, watch TV, read, or my aunt would sew, until it was time to go to bed.
I remember in the winter in order to save the heat, all the rooms were closed off and the space heater was turned on for us to keep warm.

First off, my uncle and aunt would get their section of the newspaper and when they were through I would get the entire paper.
This went on nightly except when Saturday night wrestling came on. Then the world stopped and the bustling noise of the fans and the announcers filled the room.
My aunt clapped and yay-ed all through the show. When the wrestler Gorgeous George came on my aunt would have a fit. He was her hero!!

I do believe that he would win most of the matches because it seemed to me all I heard was Gorgeous George, Gorgeous George!
I think my aunt was the main reason he would win because I am sure he heard her all the way through TV land calling," that's right Gorgeous, get him' or ' One,Two,Three" as she slapped the opponents out along with the referee.

Well me and my short lived enthusiasm asked one night if I could read the Marshall News Messenger newspaper first since they were tuned in to the TV. The TV was one of those old blond Hoffman's minus the red,blue and green filler paper to see the match in color.
Of course the answer was yes because they were too engrossed in the goings on and they could read the paper later.


I spread out down on the floor and read and read to my hearts content, story by story line by line. I have always loved to read be it newspapers or books.
When I had finished reading, I folded up the paper just like I got it so that when the wrestling match was over my aunt and uncle could pick up and read the news of the day.


Finally the match was over. My aunt picked up the paper, opened up to her section and I heard her say "what is wrong with this paper!!."
My uncle took a look at his section and looked down at me. My aunt asked me why in the world would I go through and mark out words in the paper.
I remember telling her,(I was crying and all I could envision was a spanking) that I could not pronounce the words that I blackened out,they were to big and to hard and I did not know what they meant.

She told me never ever ever to do that again. If I did not know what a word meant or how to pronounce it to ask her or Uncle John. Boy was I relieved!

That Monday when I came home from Dogan Elementary School,I had waiting for me a brand new Dictionary which I prized for many years.


I don't even know why I even thought that I would get a spanking anyway.
She nor Uncle John had ever given me a spanking. Not even that time in church when that man gave me the bowl full of crackers and all those little glass bottles of grape juice.

He handed it to me and walked away so I thought they were all mine. I had even shared with my friend Rosemary who was sitting next to me. How was I to know that something was wrong until I could not hear my aunts distinct singing voice in the choir. Her voice had gone silent and that man came running back and took the tray from me.
I bet those people at New Bethel Baptist Church thought I was starving for food.

Shoot, me and Rosemary Richardson were loving the taste. Rosemary lived across the street from my aunt and uncle on Whetstone Street and happened to come to church with us that night.

I just love my Aunt and Uncle John. My Aunt is the daughter of Joseph and Frances Taylor from Marshall, Harrison County, Texas and my uncle John Morton is the son of Robert and Mollie Huff Morton,Pittsburgh, Camp County Texas.

I can say now that I may have gotten that line by line streak many years ago when reading that newspaper because that is one of the ways I use to look up those who I have a hard time finding in the Federal Census.
Who would have thought that the very people that I look for that way just happen to be in Marshall Texas.
And who would have thought it that Gorgeous George may be the reason that I stopped marking out words I could not understand in the newspapers.

Field Of Dreams, Knee Pads And All:

Its Football Season and with that said, I got to thinking!! Field Of Dreams

Thinking about the equipment they had back in the day when some of our ancestors may have played.
Back in the day when there were no lights, the teams had to play in the heat of the day or the blustery cold.

What about water! Did they get enough to quench their thirst as they ran around huffing and puffing for their team and their fans.

How was the water stored to keep them cool.
I wonder if they were in number two tubs with a block of ice or in one of those galvanized ones. Did they drink out of tin cups or cans or one of those huge ladles.

The colleges especially the HBCU's were not equipped with the best of uniforms, helmets and other gear that was needed to protect these men as they played the rough and tumble game of Football.

I would imagine though that the uniform condition did not matter too much when playing the schools in the towns in their vicinity as they were in the same shape.

The playing fields were straight out bare. (No artificial grass there) Running, banging, crashing to the ground!!! Pick themselves up, sometimes with a grunt here and there and do it all over again.

Those boys had to be really hurting and full of pain when getting hit on the field.
Then after a hard day of playing the game they loved so well, they had to go home and relax after pouring a nice hot bath.

I can also imagine though that they played their hearts out with as much enthusiasm as they do in these days except they were not getting paid.

I ran across this Picture of these football players who went to Bishop College in Marshall Texas. This was the football class of 1930.

I wish the squad had names of all the players. I was trying to get as close to the computer to see if any of these guys resembled any one in my family. There were a couple of names like Nellums, fullback, Flournoy, guard who was the captain of the team and Watkins played halfback.

Not a Texan, but worthy anyway LOL is The Black Cyclone of Wooster as Charles Follis(1879 - 1910)is know was reportedly the first African American to play football. Charles W. Follis,born February 3, 1879, in Cloverdale, Virginia moved to Wooster Ohio

In 1904, Follis signed a contract with the Shelby Athletic Club, later the Shelby Blues. With that contract, he became the first professional African American football player. Follis played on the team with Branch Rickey, the Ohio Wesleyan University student and future Brooklyn Dodger owner who would sign Jackie Robinson to integrate major league baseball in 1947.

As the 2010 football season rolls around, my brother Bruce, my two nephews Brian and Bryan are no doubt getting ready to rag on me, my daughter Latisha,and grands Taylor and Tyler.

Don't be surprised if the Arizona Cardinals come looking for a good fight in the town near you.

Me, I am going to go bird watching. GO CARDINALS!!!!

Sentimental Sunday: The Man Who Crossed The Brazos

Houston Texas July 8,1899. The Brazos River had reached its peak after flood waters put numerous towns under water. Negroes who lived between Brookshire and Fulshire were stranded. Relief parties were sent to pick them up and take them to dry land that was located in Brookshire.

In Navasota the water had receded about 7 ft and the tale of the ruined crops were evident. Crops teetering to the brink as they were choked by the rushing water. People were scrambling to the plantations where they worked because most were on higher ground and many of the Negroes lived on the bottoms.

In Hempsted there was an appeal to the governor and cities to send out food to the more than three thousand Negroes who also lived on the bottoms and were starving, because they had been without food for days. The same thing was happening in Richmond, and Calvert. The Railroads that served all these areas were washed out and under water, making life miserable for those who depended on them for various services.

While reading the story of the flood I ran across this amazing sketch of this rather handsome man.


http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn86071197/1899-07-08/ed-1/seq-2/
The Houston daily post. (Houston, Tex.) 1886-1903, July 08, 1899

The old man was rescued from his little cabin out on Peach Ridge near Brookshire. He had been water bound for three days. He claims that he is 106 years old and his appearance indicates the truthfulness of the assertion. This sketch was made by the post artist while the old man was being taken to Brookshire.

I went to the census to see if I could find him and also to compare the age that he claimed to be if possible. Even though the artist had a different view of the man whom he thought was every bit his age of 106. I thought that he looked more like a man in his late eighties.

I am pretty sure this is a distinct possible for the Frank in the paper. The age fits plus the area where he said he was rescued from and where he was living. The only different is the spelling of his last name and as we know " Spelling doesn't count" especially in those days.

1870 census
Ancestry:
Source Citation: Year: 1870; Census Place: Precinct 3, Fort Bend, Texas; Roll M593_1585; Page: 598A; Image: 591; Family History Library Film: 553084.


Name: Frank Spates
Birth Year: abt 1790
Age in 1870: 80
Birthplace: Louisiana
Home in 1870: Precinct 3, Fort Bend, Texas
Race: Black
Gender: Male
Post Office: Richmond
Household Members: Name Age
Frank Spates 80
Margaret Spates 50

Here is also another census that fits in with the areas that was under water and all located near each other but this is in Waller County. Spelling is off again but the age on the original census record fits whereas the index is off.


Ancestry:
Source Citation: Year: 1900; Census Place: Justice Precinct 5, Waller, Texas; Roll T623_1676; Page: 9A; Enumeration District: 52.Name: Frank Sperght
[Frank Speight]
Home in 1900: Justice Precinct 5, Waller, Texas
Age: 1
Birth Date: 1798
Birthplace: Virginia
Race: Black
Gender: Male
Relationship to Head of House: Father
Father's Birthplace: Virginia
Mother's Birthplace: Virginia
Marital Status: Widowed
Household Members: Name Age
Caesar Sperght 50
Laura Sperght 51
Eda Sperght 19
Delia Sperght 18
Elisabeth Sperght 13
Wealthy Sperght 11
Frank Sperght 1
Frank Sperght 1


It is rather amazing how and when you cross the path of an intriguing subject or article even though you know very little about them. But as we live and breathe we all have a story. No matter how insignificant it is to you, there is always someone else that can capture that story and be blessed.
Mr Frank lived to a wonderful age if his years on earth through this article told the truth. And whats more amazing is that his life was spared again through this horrible flood. I would love to have listened to all he had to share along his travels.