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knoxcotn-digest Sunday, March 12 2000 Volume 01 : Number 071
---------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Sat, 11 Mar 2000 23:21:20 EST From: DG2COWS@aol.com Subject: [KnoxCoTN] HARRINGTON, HATFIELD, NICELY, WHITED I am looking for ANY information on these ancestors: John B. HARRINGTON b March 16, 1879 in Union Co., Tn d Jan 24, 1947 in Knox Co., Tn son of George W. HARRINGTON b in Union Co., Tn and Martha HATFIELD b in Va. John B. HARRINGTON m. Parlie Jane NICELY b Dec 16, 1975 in Tn. d Nov 4, 1949 in Knox Co., Tn daughter of John NICELY and Surmintha WHITED. Thanks, Gladys ------------------------------ Date: Sat, 11 Mar 2000 23:58:40 EST From: DG2COWS@aol.com Subject: [KnoxCoTN] Nicknames vs Given Name From another list. Gladys > The following list of nicknames vs. given names is from the publication > :Harlan Connections, " by Frances Y. Dunham of the University of > Florida, and > has a 1987 copywrite. Today's popular forms such as Bob, Brit, Tom, > Abby, > Becky, Debby, etc. are not included here. > Male & Female Nicknames (Source Unknown) > > Nickname Christian Name(s) > Bell, Bella, Belle Arabelle, Anabelle, Isabel, Isabella, > Rosabel > > Bess, Bessie Elizabeth > Beth Elizabeth > Betsy, Betty Elizabeth > Bitsy Elizabeth > Bob, Bobby Robert > Cindy Cinthia, Cynthia, Lucinda > Daisy Margaret > Delia Adelia, Adele, Cordelia > Dick Richard > Dobbin Robert > Dode, Dody Dorothy, Theodore, Theodorick > Dora Dorothy, Eudora, Theodora > Ed, Eddie, Eddy Edgar, Edmund, Edward, Edwin, Edwina > Effie, Effy Euphemia > Eliza Elizabeth > Greta Margaret, Margaretha > Ella, Ellie Eleanor, Elenora > Fannie, Fanny Frances > Frankie Frances (female), Francis (male), > Franklin > Genie Eugenia > Hal Harold, Henry > Hank Henry > Harry Henry > Hattie Harriet(t) > Hettie Esther, Henrietta, Hester > Jack, Jackie John > Jamie James, Jameson > Jenny Jane, Janet, Jeanette, Jennett, Virginia > Jim, Jimmy James > Jock John > John, Johnnie, Johnny John > Kate, Katie, Katy Katherine Kathie Katherine > Kit, Kitty Katherine > Kay Katherine > Lena Angelina, Helena, Magdalena, Paulina, Selena, et > al > Lettie > Letitia > Libby Elizabeth > Lina Angelina, Helena, Magdalena, Paulina, Selena, et > al Lisa, > Lise > Elizabeth > Liz, Lizzie Elizabeth > Lucy Lucinda > Madge Margaret > Maggie Margaret > Maisie Margaret, Mary > Mamie Mary > Marty, Martie Martha > Mattie Martha > May Mary > Midge Margaret > Meg, Megan Margaret > Meta Margaret > Millie, Milly Amelia, Mildred > Moll, Mollie, Molly Mary > Nell, Nellie, Nelly Eleanor, Elenora, Ellen, Helen > Nora Elenore, Elenora, Honora, Honoria > Ollie Olive, Olivia, Oliver > Patsy, Patty Patricia, Patience, Martha > Peg, Peggy Margaret > Penny Penelope > Polly Mary > Rich, Richy Richard > Rob, Robbie, Robby Robert > Robin Robert > Sadie Sarah > Sallie, Sally Sarah > Sammy Samuel, Samson, Samantha > Sukie, Suchie, Suchy Susan, Susanna, Susannah > Tad Theodore, Theodorick > Ted, Teddy Edward > Theo Theodore, Theodorick > Tilly Temperance > Tillie Matilda, Mathilda > Tina Christina > Trina Catharine > Vicy Lewvisa > Winnie Winefred, Winifred (both male and female) > ------------------------------ Date: Sun, 12 Mar 2000 07:56:31 -0800 From: "Billie R. McNamara" <knox@tngenweb.org> Subject: [KnoxCoTN] 12 March 2000: Sunday Afternoon Rocking Please feel free to forward this, but read the caveat at the end first. ================================================================== From: "j" <unicorn@sun-spot.com> When Mama married Mr. Johnson (from the "Sunday Afternoon Rocking" series) Note: Periodically, the nature of "Sunday Afternoon Rocking" changes, and now and then you will receive a message that is in actuality a story, designed to help us all understand a little better the lives of our ancestors. -jan When Mama married Mr. Johnson I reckon it is true that life is a whole lot like the creek down the road. It changes, you know...oh, you can't see it if you only pass through now and again, but now if you have waded in it, and caught its fish in your bare hands, you notice. If you swim in it, you sit on its banks and skip rocks, and you know it as surely as you know your only pair of overalls, well then you know the changes in it. And you know that it is more than just the normal changes that come with the change of seasons...the flooding in the rainy season and the bare trickle over the rocks in the dry. No, you know when it suddenly is following just a slightly different course, when it rounds the rocks just a little differently, when the bank of it doesn't have quite the same lines it used to have...and you know it is inevitable....creeks gonna change, and so is life. So my life changed too, and not for the first time. Guess it changed the most when Papa died, and being the eldest boy, at 11, I found myself "man of the house" and taking on a man's share of the work too. It weren't easy... but the hardest part of all was burying Papa. I never knew anything in my life so hard as knowing Papa was not going to be there anymore, knowing he wasn't going to be waking me up before daybreak anymore to come help him with the chores, knowing I wasn't going to be watching him work with his brown skin glistening sweat in the sun, knowing he wasn't ever again going to grin slowly and make me feel grown up with his "man talk". I wanted to scream at him how dare he die? How dare he die when I was not a man yet and needed to learn how? And I felt guilty, cause I knew he did not want to die...and I wasn't the only one going to be needing him. And it was hard thinking on how I was going to do what he did, and hard looking at my five younger brothers and sisters and knowing suddenly I wasn't just their brother anymore... how I did might be making a big difference in how we got along. And I was scared. I didn't feel near big enough to do all he did. Onct I put my feet down in his shoes when no one was looking, and they bout swallowed my feet whole...and I thought that is how it really is too, I ain't big enough to be Papa yet. No time to grieve over Papa, bad as I wanted to, bad as sometimes I broke down when I was off to myself.....and I knew I had to be a man and make Papa proud....and not sure how I was supposed to do that, being only 11. I did good as I could, and Mama and the little ones helped too, but somehow it wasn't going good as it was when Papa was there. Some of our kinfolks and neighbors pitched in when they could, but they couldn't do for us and do for themselves too. Ole Miz Griffin tole Mama that it might come to the point that she would just have to split us all up amongst the kinfolk and neighbors and late in the night I heard her crying. Doc Adams asked Mama had she ever considered farming me out, and I never heard Mama so spitting mad as when she answered him....I figured I would not have to worry on that one, but rightly, I was not sure but what it might come to that neither. And so times got harder, and they got leaner, and what spark had not gone out of Mama when Papa died faded a little more each day. She got tired and thinner, and seemed like she was dying out as surely as embers in a fireplace. And I was scared....cause I figured she was nigh to giving up....and I think the little ones was scared the same way. Then the preacher come. I don't reckon none of us were expecting what the preacher had to say, and I reckon it was hardest of all on Mama....but there didn't seem to be much else to do, and so Mama done it. What the preacher had to say concerned Mr. Johnson. None of us knew Mr. Johnson right well, as he lived in another place though not too far. Preacher being a circuit rider, he knowed most everbody round these parts, and he knowed Mr. Johnson. Mr. Johnson was a widower, same as Mama was a widow. His wife up and died back in the spring and left him with a houseful of little ones, including the one that come when his wife died. He not able to care for them and tend the fields at the same time.... his story was a lot like ours. And it appeared to the preacher that what might ought to be done was to marry Mr. Johnson and Mama, make us all into one family...and that being so, we could survive a little better. Fact is, he didn't leave Mama much choice in it...told her that her only choice was did she want to keep her youngins together or did she want to give them up? I reckon that was most likely the same thing he had to say to Mr. Johnson. And so it was, with Papa not in the ground six months, nor Mr. Johnson's wife neither, we had us a wedding. Mighta seemed a mite like something not honorable to either Papa or Mr. Johnson's wife neither...but the fact is, we all was needing some help, and times were harder than just losing someone we loved, though that was bad enough...and we all knowed it. It weren't no big wedding like you see sometimes with young folks, when everone comes to watch it and they have a poundin and a shivaree, big spread out for everybody....it was just a wedding with the words a preacher says what makes it so in the eyes of the Lord, and Mama wearing nothing fancy, but just the best dress she had which was the same one she wore to all the meetings at the church house. No one there but us youngins and Miz Griffin and one of the church deacons. And Mr. Johnson looked mighty uncomfortable, and Mama looked mighty sad. And Mama called him Mr. Johnson, and he called Mama Mrs. Johnson....and we all moved into his house, and went to work and that was about the size of it. I can't rightly say nothin bad about Mr. Johnson, and so I reckon I am luckier than many. He never had much to say, and he wasn't nothing like Papa used to be with a big bear laugh that tickled everyone that heard it. I watched him work like Papa out in the fields, and I worked beside him, but his eyes didn't twinkle and he didn't make me feel like a man with his "man talk"...cause there wasn't much talk at all. He never called me son, and I never called him anything but Mr. Johnson. We just all done what we had to do, and then one day there was another little one, and another, and I stood beside the family until I was a man full grown and went off to make a family of my own. And you know...I reckon I learned some things about being a man from Mr. Johnson after all. He weren't papa...but he done the right thing, and he done what he had to do. I reckon that is mostly what being a man is....or a woman. Doing the right thing, and what you have to do. c2000janPhilpot ________________________________________________ (Note: Afternoon Rocking messages are meant to be passed on, meant to be shared...simply share as written without alterations...and in entirety. Thanks, jan) Sunday Afternoon Rocking columns are distributed weekly on the list Sunday Rocking. This is not a "reply to" list, and normally only one message per week will come across it, that being the column. To subscribe send email to Sundayrocking-subscribe@egroups.com _________________________________________________ ------------------------------ End of knoxcotn-digest V1 #71 ***************************** |