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Our story for this Buck family begins with the marriage of Davida€™s parents, Thomas Buck and Elizabeth Scott, on 4 May 1738 in Glastonbury, Connecticut [see Glastonbury Vital Records by Barbour, available on the Internet.] The record of this marriage does not provide any additional information about the ancestry of Thomas Buck, but it does tell us that Elizabeth was the daughter of Thomas Scott. We know that these were the parents of our David Buck as his daughter, Elizabeth Buck Garlick (who we will frequently refer to as a€?EBGa€?) left a record in 1841 (in Nauvoo, Illinois) and again in 1872 (in Salt Lake City in the Endowment House).
Following their wedding in 1738, Thomas and Elizabeth Buck completely disappear from the local records. Fortunately their grand-daughter, Elizabeth Buck Garlick (EBG), lived long enough to be listed in the 1880 US Federal census for Springville, Utah.
The birth-dates are unknown for several of these children, but since there was such a large gap between Thomas, Jr. There was also a John Buck and a Joseph Buck who were closely associated with this family in Bedford County, but we have no document that establishes their relationship to the rest of this family.
With all of the above as foundation for our story we will now present the documented history for our David Buck, Sr. The very first item we can find for our Bucks in Bedford County is in the 1775 tax list where a Thomas Buck was listed as paying 7 pounds, 6, as a resident of Colerain Township in Bedford Co., PA.
In the next yeara€™s tax recorda€”1776, we again find Thomas Buck, along with Jonathan Buck listed in Colerain Township of Bedford County.
We have no tax records for 1777 & 1778, but in 1779 there was no Thomas Buck in Colerain Township. In 1780 we still find David Buck and John Buck paying taxes in Colerain Twp., and Davida€™s brother, Thomas Buck, Jr. The 6th Company, 1st Battalion of the PA militia was formed from the men of Providence Township in 1781, with George Enslow as Captain.
We do not know any details about Davida€™s military service but we do know there were many British inspired Indian-attacks within the county where settlers were killed and their homes burned. By 1784 both David and Jonathan were located in Providence Township in Bedford Co., PA, and their brother Thomas was still in Hopewell, just a few miles north of Providence.
In 1789 Jonathan Buck sold his land in Providence Township and moved to the western side of the County, and from there (in 1793) he moved to Tennessee. Note that most of the purchases above naming Thomas Buck were surely for the Captain Thomas Buck of Hopewell Twp., the brother of our David, Sr. David Buck, land deeded to him by Benjamin Ferguson and Zilah, his wife, for 45 pounds, that tract of land called Oxford Situate on the waters of Brush Creek also running by the land of Thomas Buck, Esq. Thomas Buck and wife Margaret, sold to George Myers, land in Providence Twp being rented by William Conners for $2,400., on Brush Creek joining John Allisona€™s survey and running by David Bucka€™s property. This is a very interesting entry as we know that the Captain, Thomas Buck (brother of our David Sr.) was the man who was married to Mrs.
Before we continue with the Buck family, we need to take a sideways step to briefly discuss the Cashman family, as that brings in the wife of David Buck, Sr. This family lived for many years in Berks County, PA, and then in York Co., PA, before moving to Washington County, Maryland in 1777.
We should mention here that by this time the old Germanic family name had seen a number of changes that show up in many of the documents.
Martina€™s oldest daughter, Catherine grew up in Pennsylvania and moved with her parents to Maryland when she was about 25 years old.
David returned to his farm in Bedford County, PA with a new wife and four little step-children. While we are talking about close family members showing up in the temple records, there is one more that we should discuss at this point.
The 1800 federal census is also a bit bewildering (but then census records are not known for their accuracy).
This entry make sense if there was only one Bumgardner boy still living in Davida€™s home and if he was between the ages of 10-16a€”which would be about right.
In 1808 there was another tax list which shows David with 247 acres in Providence Twp, with 1 horse and 2 cows. His oldest son, Thomas, was already married and had been out of the house for about seven years before his father died. We dona€™t know how long Catherine Cashman Buck lived after the death of her husband but it appears she was still alive during the 1820 census as discussed above.
The oldest child of our David Buck and Catherine Cashman (after her Bumgardner children) was Thomas Buck. Very nearby lived the family of Michael Blue, who had a daughter, Elizabeth Blue, born 30 March 1788, in Providence Twp, making her just about two years older than Thomas. Shortly after the birth of their youngest child the family moved to Van Buren, Pulaski Co., Indiana, where they were living in the 1860 census, and where Thomas died on 27 Feb. A number of local residents joined the Church at that same time which resulted in a backlash of hard feelings and persecution ensued, inducing many of them to sell their homes and move to Nauvoo, Illinois where the a€?Saintsa€? were gathering.
With the other Saints, the Garlicks were forced to evacuate Nauvoo in 1846 and make their way across the state of Iowa to Council Bluffs. We are not sure when Susannah was born, but her fathera€™s will makes it clear that she was younger than Elizabeth (who was born in 1795a€”according to her own record) and older than Mary, who was born in 1800 (as found in several census records).
50 years old (making him about 12-13 years younger than Susannah, and his wife, a€?Susana€? was five years younger than Solomona€”born about 1815. Whether Susannah died young, or married and changed her last name, is unknown to us at this time. With a large gap between the first two children there could, and probably were, other children unknown to us at this time.
In the 1870 census we do find David Jr.a€™s daughter, Catherine Buck living in Providence with her Aunt Mary Buck (both of her parents had died prior to that year). After the birth of this last child the family moved to Columbus, Franklin Co., Ohio where we find them in the 1880 censusa€”except for their son, George, who would have been 13 in that census but does not appear with the family at that time.
This Jonathan Buck remained close to his extended family and traveled back and forth between Pennsylvania and Ohio on various occasions. Note that this particular record does not say that Sarah was the daughter of Mary, but we learn that later on. In the Ancestral File (LDS FHC) Mary has been sealed numerous times to a man by the name of Amos Jones. In the 1860 census, we find Saraha€™s mother, Mary Buck, living with her son-in-law and his two little girlsa€”Marya€™s grand-daughters.
Within the next decade (per the 1870 census) Jacob Foore had remarried and begun an additional family, so Mary moved into a home of her own and also took in her niece, Catherine Buck, with her little daughter, Amanda, who we have discussed above. This concludes the presentation of the documented life of David Buck, Sr., his wife, Catherine Cashman, and their family.
Aunt Mary Buck is well, Catharine too, neather one of them lives with me now since last spring. Yours truly, write to me again and tell me all the news and I will give you all the news then. It is with pleasure that I drop you a few lines to inform you we are all well at the present time and hope and trust these few lines may find you the same.
I must tell you where we live, we live near Gapsvill and I thought I would write a few lines to you all.
Times is very dull here now all though there is plenty of everything but fruit, there is none at tale, only what is shipped here. I can't tell how Aunt or Catharine is gitting along for I have not had a letter from either one for five months or more, I can't tell why it is as I have written to both of them and got no answer. One of my boys married a girl here and they have gone to keeping house here, so if my letter does not come to hand in time he can lift it and remail. I am boarding, I don't keep house anymore and I received your picture and I thought I had thanked you for it in my letter long ago, if not I am very much obliged to you for it. I did not see Dasey Garlick when I was East, she was away from home the day I went to see her and I had so many places t go I did not get around again.
I seen Telitha (Catharine) Garlick two but only to speak to her as met her on the road one day she is married to Wesley Clark, one of Elias Clark's boys. It appears that there is going to be plenty work to do this summer, lots of large buildings to go up this summer. Temple there was completed, an Endowment House was erected in which sacred ordinances could be performed.
The a€?Joseph Garlica€? listed as a€?heira€? and proxy for the males above, was EBGa€™s son. Abigail Jones 2nd cousin {Daughter of Capt. Thomas Buck nephew {EBGa€™s brother, Thomas, md. David Buck nephew {EBGa€™s brother, David, Jr. John Buck cousin {Son Thomas Buck & ELiz. As happened with Methodist ministers during that time period, our family moved frequently.A  We lived in several small Mississippi towns including Sumrall, Laurel, Purvis, McComb, Taylorsville, Ellisville, and Bay St. A  Jeff and I and our children have lived in Louisiana the majority of our married life except for two years immediately after we married while we finished our mastera€™s degrees at Mississippi State University and a few too many winters in Indiana.A  Jeff is a mechanical and civil engineer and I am a pharmacist at St. Jeff and I moved to Port Sulphur, Louisiana, after we finished our mastera€™s degrees at Mississippi State.
However, if youa€™ve been to a Louisiana wedding, you know that non-alcoholic receptions are not the norm.A  (The menu included crawfish sacks, crawfish beignets, gumbo, etc. Another difference between now and then is that I have not made an article of clothing for myself in at least a dozen years.A A  There doesna€™t seem to be time for sewing anymore.
Being the daughter of a home economics major meant the plaids all had to match, the zipper had to be perfectly straight, and the set-in sleeve could not have a single pleat.
A treasured memory of my childhood years revolves around a carved manger scene from John C. After Mother and Daddy died, I decided to see if the school could replace a lost piece of the manger scene Daddy had bought for us when he and John traveled to Israel. Jeff and I had subcontracted our home on the Rigolets in Slidell, Louisiana, moving in September 2003. Our drug wholesaler (Morris Dickson) delivered a pallet of supplies taller than me and at least four feet wide in the wee hours of the morning Wednesday after Katrina hit on Monday.A  Those supplies rank as one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen. A A A  Jeff and the kids had always evacuated to Hattiesburg or Moselle and I worked at the hospital pharmacy during the various hurricanes.A  This plan was a direct result of my experience in Bay St. Our experiences have taught us that it is family and friends that are important, not your material possessions, although I still have a car packed to the max with family treasures when I evacuate to the hospital.
I have inherited a wonderful family, full of the traditions of the southern way of life and the Christian principles toi?? which my parents devoted their lives.A  I hope I can live up to the standards that have been set by the a€?brothers and sistersa€? (and the cousins) of the Walton family. Jeff attended Mississippi State University, where he played basketball and was a member of the Academic All-SEC team and received a bachelora€™s degree andi?? a mastera€™s degree in engineering. He has been a mechanical and civil engineer in Port Sulpher, Covington, and Baton Rouge, Louisiana, and Crown Point, Indiana.
A A A  Being the daughter of a home economics major meant the plaids all had to match, the zipper had to be perfectly straight, and the set-in sleeve could not have a single pleat. A A A  Jeff attended Mississippi State University, where he played basketball and was a member of the Academic All-SEC team and received a bachelora€™s degree and a mastera€™s degree in engineering.
There has been quite a bit of misinformation published for this family, and so I think it is important to put down in writing a summary of the documentation that may help researchers find the correct trail to our ancestors. In this document, I will merely summarize a bit of our family history in Germany to clarify our heritage so as to address some of the errors made by others.
Another error that has been perpetuated is that our a€?Hans Martina€? must have been a young boy, under age 16, when he came to North America, and that his name was therefore not recorded, but that the a€?Hans Martin Kirschmana€? listed on the passengera€™s list must have been his father. But, to help convince others of that claim, leta€™s begin our story with actual confirming documents from Germany. In this paper, we will start with: Johann a€?Hanssa€? Martin Kirschenmann, who was born on 26 Feb.
Anna Marie born 29 May 1737 -- she had, in 1771, an illegitimate child [male] named Christian born in Pfalzgrafenweiler. Again, the above record comes from the Pfalzgrafenweiler Jakoba€™s Church record, which was the home parish of Hanss. Now, there is a very interesting item noted for this young woman in her own parish record, which says that: she was married on 28 Jan. This clearly establishes the birth of Johann a€?Hansa€? Martin Kirschenmann (our immigrant ancestor) as the son of a€?Hanss Martin Kirschenmann and his wife, Anna Catharina Schmid, who were married about eleven months following his birth.
Not far away, in the village of Goettelfingen (about 6-7 miles northwest of Pfalzgrafenweiler)--as the crow flies, lived the family of Christian Schwarz. Their oldest daughter, Agnes Schwartz is the one who is of the greatest interest to us, as our immigrant grandmother, but also take note of the names of her brothers, as two of those will come up again later. Sometime after the birth of their second child, this family moved to Kaelberbronn, which is about four miles to the south of where they were living, and about half way to Pfalzgrafenweiler. For the source of much of the following information, see: History and Genealogy of the German Emigrant Johan Christian Kirschenmann, Anglicized Cashman by Arthur Weaner and William F. Hans Martin Kirschenmann and his young bride, both about 20 years old, began their migration together down the Rhine River in 1752. This Hans Martin Kirschman was the 20 years old father of our American family by this name. In all of Pennsylvania there were only two Kirschman (Kirschenmann, even by other variant spellings) families that can be found in the time frame between 1752 and 1776. In 1761, after living in PA for nine years, and after succeeding waves of immigrants had arrived in Berks Co. The other family by that name living in Pennsylvania at about that time was that of Johan Christian Kirschman (Kirschenmann) who boarded a ship a€?Hamiltona€?, Charles Smith, Commander, in Rotterdam, Netherlands, and sailed to Cowes, England, arriving at Philadelphia, PA on 9 Nov.
Both of the above men were thought to have come from the same general area in Wuerttemberg, Germany. We know the names of the following children of Johann Martin Cashman and his wife, Agnes Schwartz, who were still living in 1804 when Martin made his will in Bedford Co., Virginia--from the gaps between their birth years, there could have been additional children who died earlier than this date.
Martin Kirschman was listed as a carpenter, and paid taxes on 1 horse and two cows in Berks Co., PA in 1767 [Tax List of Berks County] and was also listed in the tax list for 1768. During this period, Hans Martina€™s oldest son, George, married in Washington County, MD and had a daughter on 13 Nov. In 1778 (during the war years) Men were asked to take an a€?Oath of Allegiancea€? to the new United States of America.
There was also a mention of Adam Bumgartner as a resident of Washington Co., MD, in 1778, the year prior to his marriage. I have seen a claim that Martin Kirschman may have moved to Bedford County, PA about at this time and paid taxes there in 1779. As the Revolutionary War drew towards its close with the surrender of General Cornwallis to George Washington at Yorktown, VA in 1781 thousands of British soldiers were taken as prisoners. We have not been able to find any other records for our Hans Martin Kirschman after this date--except for his will. This surname is just not close enough to say that this was our a€?Martin Kirschmana€? but it is given here only as a point of interest. Now, we have an even longer stretch without any documentation, but in 1803, Hans Martin & Agnesa€™s youngest daughter, Elisabeth Kirschman, or a€?Betsya€? married Jesse Orendorff in Bedford Coounty, VA (or Botetourt County, VA). At least by 1804, and probably earlier, our Hans Martin Kirschman and Agnes Schwartz had moved to Bedford County, VA., which occupies most of the area between Roanoak and Lynchburg, VA in southwestern Virginia. This last Will and Testament of Martin Kershmon, deceased, was exhibited in Court and proved by the oath of James Ripley, a subscribing witness and continued for further proof and a Court held for said County the 24th day of September 1804a€”this will was further proved by the oath of Presley Sinclair another subscribing witness and ordered to be recorded. In the 1820 US census, there was only one Cashman family still in the area and this was for a George Cashman in Providence Twp, Bedford Co., PA.
As discussed above, Catherine Kirschman was born about June of 1752 in Amsterdam while her family was en route from Germany to America.
Catherine spent her early years in Berks County, PA until she was in her mid-teens, when the family moved to York County, PA, and about 25 years old when they moved to Washington County, MD.
There were only two Catherine Kirschmans (by any spelling) that we can find in the USA at that time.
It is not clear where and how Catherine next met David Buck, but since he was absent from his home in Bedford Co., PA from 1785 till about 1789. Shortly after their marriage, they returned to Davida€™s home in Bedford County, PA, where this couple had Davida€™s first child, a son, Thomas Buck, named after Davida€™s father.
We do not know the birth years of any of these, but they all would have been born between 1780-86 and probably in Washington Co.
David and Catherine remained on Brush Creek in West Providence, Bedford, PA for the rest of their lives. According to David Buck's will, there are two daughters younger than Elizabeth Buck, who was born 2 May 1795. There were many political and religious difficulties multiplied by physical hardships in continental Europe during the 16th, 17th an 18th centuries to make the mind fertile to emigration to America.
In 1681 William Penn received from King Charles II of England, 40,000 square miles of land in America, in liquidation of a debt of 16,000 pounds the British government owed William Penna€™s father. The journey to Pennsylvania consumed from eighteen to twenty six weeks.[3] The first part was the journey from the Palatine down the Rhine River to Rotterdam, in our case, or to some other seaport {note that for the family of Johann Martin Kirschman, the embarkation port was Amsterdam}. The Passengers were usually crowded, with insufficient and improper food and water, subjecting many to all sorts of diseases which resulted in the death of many, especially the children. It was of early concern to the rulers of the Province of the emigration of the Germans to English Pennsylvania.
From the dock, the arrivals go to the City Hall, sign the above oaths, and square their account with the Captain.
To what extent Christian Cashman, his wife and family participated in these sufferings is not known, but it is safe to assume that they endured many trials. It is on these ship and oath lists above referred to, that is found the name of JOHAN CHRISTIAN KIRSCHENMANN. The Foreigners whose names are underwritten, imported in the Ship Hamilton, Commanded by Charles Smith, from Rotterdam, did this day take and subscribe the usual Qualifications.
Only the names of males above age sixteen appear, but tradition states he was accompanied by his wife, Catharan (whose maiden name has not been ascertained), and five of his six children,[7] viz: Christian, Barbra, George, John and Susanah.
On the Ship Edinburgh, James Russell Commander, from Rotterdam, {Note: the author made an error here.
At the same source for the year 1767, under name Martin Kirschman, a carpenter, 1 horse and 2 cows, tax L2.[4] The surname Kerschner appears frequently in Berks County records. Martin Kirschman and his wife Agnes, Daughter Elizabeth, born September 14, 1775, baptized November 26, 1775. This is all the data found on this family, and no descendants have been ascertained at the time of writing. List of inhabitants of Providence Township, Bedford County, Pennsylvania, made subject by law to the performance of militia duty, taken by Peter Morgert, the 27th Jany. Martin Cashman a€“ The Ancestral File of the LDS Church contains a family from a€?Paa€?, where the fathera€™s name is a€?Martin Cashmana€? born 1764 in Pa. I know that Martin Jr and Elizabeth (wife of Jesse Orendorff) moved their families to Breckenridge County Kentucky in the early 1800s. Martin Sr's wife Agnes Schwartz had two brothers, Frederick and Chrisian who located in Botetourt County Virginia around 1790-1800. There has been quite a bit of misinformation published for this family, and so I think it is important to put down in writing a summary of the documentation that may help researchers find the correct trail to our ancestors.A  For additional information on this family while living back in Germany (Wuerttemberg) before their immigration to America, please see Our Kirschenmann Haritage in Wuerttemberg, Germany by Lionel Nebeker also available on this web-site in the a€?Librarya€?. Another error that has been perpetuated is that our a€?Hans Martina€? must have been a young boy, under age 16, when he came to North America, and that his name was therefore not recorded, but that the a€?Hans Martin Kirschmana€? listed on the passengera€™s list must have been his father.A  Indeed, the man listed on that passengera€™s list (and wea€™ll discuss that below) was our only immigrant by that name--and he was 20 years old at the time of his migration. Not far away, in the village of Goettelfingen (about 6-7 miles northwest of Pfalzgrafenweiler)--as the crow flies, lived the family of Christian Schwarz.A  He was not born there, and we do not have any indication of his homeland, but he moved there in time to marry Anna Maria Kuhn (b.
In the days prior to the American Revolution, Pennsylvania, which was not only a Quaker, but also a pacifist, colony restricted her residents from crossing over the Susquehanna River and taking up Indian lands. Marylanders had no such compulsion and were more inclined to travel up a river, than to worry about where a rather arbitrary political boundary might cross through the woods. William grew up predominantly in York Co., PA where he met and married Catherine Houts on 27 Oct 1778, on his 21st birthday.
Whether William participated in the Revolutionary War as a soldier, or not, is unknown, but it seems highly likely that he would have. From subsequent US census records, John, at one point, stated that he was born in Pennsylvania, but in another census, he said he was born in Maryland. In the first US census taken in 1790, William Geery is found with his family in Baltimore Co., Maryland. This last stay in Maryland was of a short duration and they were probably gone in the early 1790a€™s.
They must have lived fairly close to one of the original settlements in that state, as Williama€™s oldest son, John Geery, soon met a young girl, by the name of Elizabeth Guthrie, who was about his same age, and who was born there in Madison Co. In the mean time, William Geery and the rest of his family remained, at least for the most part, in Madison Co., KY.
William remained for the rest of his life in Madison County, KY, passing away there on 14 Jan 1838 outliving his second wife by two years, as Hannah died there on 26 Oct 1835. William Geerya€™s older brother, John Geery, served in the Pennsylvania Militia during the War. By the turn of the century (early 1800a€™s) the threat from the Shawnee Indians had subsided quite a bit in Kentucky, although the Creeks were still giving the settlers in Tennessee a lot of trouble. For several years they made their home next to his in-laws and seemed happy in this community. Not too long after the death of little William, this family decided to pull up stakes and move to a new territory. They traveled down the Cumberland River to where it meets the Ohio, and then, just a short distance further, it merges with the Mississippi. After marking off his farm ground, John built a large log cabin next to a perpetual spring of water.
In the mean time, after Johna€™s move to Missouri, his younger brother, James Geery, who had still been living with their folks back in Kentucky, packed up his family and in the early 1830a€™s moved to Missouri too. Robert was born in Williamson County, TN on 1 Dec 1808, and was the second child in the family of John and Elizabeth Guthrie Geery.
Life was tough on the frontier for a young man, but his father needed him to help clear the land of most of the trees, and to plow and plant the crops.
In the community near where they lived was another family, who had been their friends in Williamson Co., TN, and who had moved to Missouri with them. Robert and Sally were married in Ralls County, on 29 Sep 1831 and began building up their own farm ground in Pike County, next to the farm and home of William W. Robert was not only a farmer, but also followed the trade of being the local tanner of hides.
No out-right military conflict resulted, but more and more Mormons kept moving into the western counties of the state, north of Jackson County. In time, the Mormons were expelled from Missouri, and in the cold of winter, 1839, many of them migrated back across northern tier of counties, on their way to Illinois. In 1860, following the election of Abraham Lincoln, from the neighboring state of Illinois, the Civil War broke out and Missouri was referred to as a a€?split statea€? meaning that it was both a a€?slavea€? state, as well as a a€?freea€? state, and the people could chose which way they wanted to be.
Coming from Tennessee, the Geerys had southern inclinations, but not so much so that they wanted to kill anyone over it.


At this time, Robert Geery was 52 years old when his wife, Sally Parks, became ill and passed away on 23 Oct.
Eventually Robert died on 11 Jan 1899 and in Reading, MO; and his second wife, Catherine passed away some time after 1883. RR Geery, as he usually styled himself, was named after both his maternal Grandfather, Reuben Parks, and after his father, Robert Geery.
After an appropriate sweetheart courtship of these teenagers, Reuben and Lucy were married on 25 Feb 1864 in Pike Co., MO.
Following the end of the Civil War, there was another huge explosion of the population moving west to occupy almost every piece of land that could be acquired. With the discovery of rich veins of gold, then silver, and then copper in a little known place that soon became the boom town of Butte, Montana, thousands of people from all over the world flocked to the newest strike zone to make themselves wealthy over-night. Reuben and Fanny had a young family at this time, but they were coming to the conclusion that their Missouri farm was not going to provide them with the life they wanted to live. At least with the railroad, their trip west was much less of a hardship than it had been for earlier travelers. Additionally some of Reubena€™s brothers and sisters came to Montana with him, or shortly thereafter.
Reubena€™s mining efforts didna€™t pay off too well, and his farm, although pretty, didna€™t provide all that much either, but his freighting job supplied his family with their basic needs.
After his death, Fanny went to live primarily with her married daughter, Mildred Geery Travers, who had married Reuben Travers on 6 Jan 1892.
The second daughter, and third child of Reuben and Fanny Geery was Cora Bell, born 30 Mar 1869 in Pike County, MO.
Cora grew up in a loving home where she was very close to her parents and siblings, but most especially to her only sister, Mildred. Sometime between 1881-84 a small group of people arrived from Vankleek Hill, Ontario, Canada. It wasna€™t long before big, tall Jim Fitzpatrick noticed the pretty Cora Bell Geery, and he began to court her.
For her 17th birthday in 1886, Fanny Waddle Geery gave her daughter Cora an autograph book.
The thoughts of a loving and kindly father, who could see the hand writing on the wall and knew he would soon be giving his daughter away to another man. Jim Fitzpatricka€™s and Cora Bell Geerya€™s wedding was recorded in the new county courthouse located in Butte. The last two were twins, which were named after their mother, and her dear sister, who she sadly left behind near Butte.
Cora Geery Fitzpatrick, and her family were very happy in their Montana home, even though she was separated from the rest of her Geery siblings. Soon the family doctor diagnosed her with colon cancer, and there was not much that could be done to help her.
Left column is for John (himself), his first wife, Elizabeth Guthrie, and his mother Catherine Houts.
Right column has: His Mother, Catherine Houts Geery (entered twice) followed by his Fathera€™s second wife, Hannah, and ending with his father, William Geery. Whether William participated in the Revolutionary War as a soldier, or not, is unknown, but it seems highly likely that he would have.A  His older brother, John, was a soldier, and with the opposing British Army stationed in Philadelphia, a patriotic feeling filled the hearts of most able bodied Pennsylvanians, perhaps more so than from any other colony, outside of Massachusetts. Reubena€™s mining efforts didna€™t pay off too well, and his farm, although pretty, didna€™t provide all that much either, but his freighting job supplied his family with their basic needs.A  With that being the case, he moved their residence from their Browns Gulch farm to the town of Rocker, about four miles west of Butte, where it was more convenient for him to spend time with his family. Based on stylistic comparisons such as striations inside body contours and the presentation of horns in twisted perspective, several Paleolithic art experts, including the first curator of the Chauvet Cave, Jean Clottes, have accredited the Portuguese friezes to the early Solutrean of about 20,000 years ago3. In Portugal, the government did the opposite a€“ plunging ahead with a project destined to destroy the nationa€™s oldest cultural heritage by completing a 300-million-dollar dam whose reservoir will flood a valley packed with dozens of art sites spread over at least 17 kilometers. Yet construction continues - even on holidays - and the water is about to rise another hundred meters. A male ibex with his head shown in two positions, as if he were turning to watch the female behind him. As we drove up to a sentry box perched on the lip of a road into the vast, unnatural gashing of mountains at Foz CA?a, it was hard to tell if the young guard blocking us in a crisp red and gray uniform represented a well-heeled security service or an elite military unit - but it was plain that bluff and sweet talk wouldn't get us far. The next time the car eased over the knuckles of a road crisscrossed by up-ended strata, past empty huts built just of stacked slabs, and jostled between overhanging and plunging cliffs until an avalanche of tailings from an old quarry almost blocked the path. Here was one of the places of grandeur where our ancestors had first grasped visions and then concretized them by hewing - and sometimes painting - images into rock panels. As I pushed forward and the river grew shallower, turtles became so numerous that their stacks toppled like circus acts from the brinks of submerged cliffs. As a draftsman, I could feel empathy for the beast flowing into the hands that had etched her.
This first frieze stood at a fitting point, practically where the reservoir yielded to the original rapids and long pools of the virgin river. Far away across the moonscape of rutted ramps, knots of men stood before tunnels as fleets of dump trucks, made so tiny by distance that they only gave away their magnitude by over-sized wheels, eased to the brink of platforms, and added avalanches to tailings. Above us, the titanium-white cleanliness of the cement plant's towers stood in bold contrast to the devastation, like a phalanx of gigantic chess-rooks bunched for the kill. According to press articles, the dam-builders had recognized him as the true discoverer of Portugal's first reported Paleolithic engravings, at nearby Mazouco, even though the doctoral student's mentor, Professor Vitor Oliviera Jorge, had stolen his thunder.7 They had given Rebanda a job as their obligatory salvage archaeologist when the new doctor somehow couldn't get a position on a faculty.
In return, all he'd had to do was wait till their concrete curtain had gone up and its reservoir had risen into a sea so voluminous and costly that its drainage would have been unthinkable. My goateed interlocutor smirked as he told me I could try looking for the doctor at the complex built for the previous dam, 15A kilometers downstream.
But I'd hit pay dirt: the fact that I might hear Rebanda's mea culpa was more than Ia€™d hoped for.
Sebastian elected to wait outside and embarked on Jules Verne's Journey to the Center of the Earth as I knocked at the locked door. Still, I complimented her on her English, sympathized with them for having to put up with this hierarchical bother, and kept spinning innocuous questions, while she kept waiting for me to go. When Rebanda's secretary came out again, to see if she could get either me a€“ or her boss - to give up as the wait grew embarrassingly long, I asked her what the round silos with tipped roofs on the hills had been used for. But the next time, after they had gotten used to my rounds, I stepped inside and admired a sequence of two eight-foot-tall maps full of pins. Something was wrong: in addition to the constellations of pins extending for 17 kilometers upstream from the construction site, there were dozens downstream, along the reservoir behind the dam just outside! Finally, so many hours had passed, and she'd informed the doctor so many times that I was still hanging around, that I was forced by the sheer need for new scenery to vary my route, and drifted through empty rooms.
The only thing the reports agreed on was that Rebanda had somehow discovered the flooded portion of Canada do Inferno by the previous autumn22 a€“ asking the EDP to lower the Pocinho reservoir by just 3 meters in November 1994 so he could study the engravings.23 a€?They told me it was too expensive,a€? Rebanda had told the New York Times. So who had shot these photographs, which looked like they had been taken when the sites were dry vegetated hillsides instead of among the muck and bare banks below a fallen waterline? I realized that the photos of the dry sites might have been taken before the Pocinho Dam, which had flooded them, had even been completed a€“ over 12 years before!
UNESCO had suggested Clottes, who, in an uncanny convergence of good and bad karma, was taken on a whirlwind tour of the tip of the iceberg at Canada do Inferno, then immediately whisked to a press conference in Vila Nova do Foz CA?a on Dec 16th, 199428 a€“ just two days before the discovery of the Chauvet Cave that catapulted him, as its first interpreter and protector, from the summit of the French archaeological establishment to world fame.
But Clottesa€™ judgement was mixed, confirming that the art could be dated on stylistic grounds to the early Solutrean or even late Gravettian of twenty to twenty-four thousand years ago while suggesting that flooding the valley might be the best way of protecting it, since Portugal was ill-equipped to protect such widely dispersed panels from vandals!29 a€?There is no easy solution,a€? he told a reporter.
What the press forgot to emphasize with quite as much fervor was the fact that Clottes had prefaced his Solomonic verdict by saying, a€?Whatever happens, the engravings must be preserved and not be damaged.a€? Clottes might have felt that he could safely pass the buck because no art conservationist could honestly guarantee the engravingsa€™ fate once they were subjected to currents carrying abrasives, burial under the petrifying alluvia that accumulates behind dams,33 and the worlda€™s most destructive solvent a€“ water, which would dissolve pigments and destabilize rock that had proven its resistance to aerial conditions over tens of millennia.
While chatting up the gaunt fellow traveller at the construction site, Ia€™d pretended to make small talk by asking engineering questions, including one about the depth of the sediment that had accumulated behind the Pocinho dam. The irony of it was that Clottesa€™ efforts to be honest without irritating his hosts had been the spark that the French diplomats had dreaded. Despite the fact that the great prehistoriana€™s reputation would remain largely intact, and with good reason, in much of the rest of the world,34 the Portuguese intelligentsia began to shun him. A€ propos of CA?a, two Portuguese rock art researchers, who couldna€™t stomach Clottes after his press conference, ironically echoed him by telling me, confidentially, that flooding the engravings could still be a blessing since it would save them from graffiti and those boogeymen of archaeologistsa€™ dreams, prowling collectors.
My guess is that he was so beleaguered by advisers that he was just trying to get out of an awkward situation as quickly, judiciously and diplomatically as possible.
I mentioned to Rebanda that I had just attended the lecture on Chauvet, that I even had a videotape of it right there in my camera.
So it's true, I thought, drowning the site was Rebanda's solution to the problem of ownership of photographic rights.
But then, what about Rebanda's self-serving talk of photo credits, not to mention the engravings already submerged by the dam at the doorstep a€“ and his belief that the engravings were doomed to be flooded? Strangely enough, I could again see it being both ways, since the roots of tragedy are self-deception and entwined motives.
He must have realized that I was rooting for him to pull himself out of his tailspin, because suddenly he decided. Upon leaving, Sebastian asked to check out the Pocinho dam, so I drove round an interchange into an empty parking lot with planters. As the sun slanted over the plateau into the wilderness of the CA?a valley, I decided to sneak into a side-valley to the north of our campsite that Rebanda's map had cluttered with pins. Then, after breaching a wall of rushes, we broke to the reservoir's edge - and were met by a horned skull stuck on a stake. Suddenly, I remembered what Rebanda had said about the engravings' association with witchcraft. Being obstinate (or perhaps because of the prehistoric setting), I started whittling stone, knapping a microlithic surgeon's kit, and then bent single-mindedly to my task - failing till I was disgusted with myself and worried for my victim (which I had bizarrely associated with Rebanda). This time there were two guards behind an overhanging military fence crested by barbed wire. The guard who beckoned us in was rearing a guard-dog puppy, which scampered around, tumbling over ledges and using its chin to lever itself over steps.
Our guide was a decent young man who couldn't help feeling uneasy blocking access to these bold masterpieces at the source of all our arts. Still, these guards were actually tame as the locals poured down to catch a glimpse of the animals through the fence. After he'd hastened to take up his time-clock again, I wandered if there might not be even more testimonials of man's attraction to this classical Eden with its islets and fords in the flowery river, and browsed through a plowed orchard, along a contour which I judged would have been the valley floor half a million years ago.
We knew the next dawn would be our last, so we broke camp in blue light to explore the teeming side-valley beyond the first auroch. Not Portugal's - OURS - because this art is so old, despite its elegance, that we share the blood and genius of those distant ancestors who awoke to the universe, whether our cavalcade of ancestors migrated around the Old World or came across the Bering Straits 14,000 years ago. Footnotes have been added to the internet version of the article to provide historical perspective and more detail about sources than the versions that were published & distributed in 1995.
1 The three discoverers of the Chauvet Cave were Eliette Brunel Deschamps, Christian Hillaire, and Jean-Marie Chauvet.
2 The IPPAR announced the existence of the valleya€™s engravings on November 19, 1994 but a video was made of them in 1993. 10 Bahn 1995 for a re-capitulation of the same accusations against the IPPAR & Rebanda. 33 Bednarik & Jaffe have been the most outspoken spokesmen about delusions concerning the protective qualities of reservoirs a€“ which not only inundate art panels with water but deep alluvial deposits that make their later recovery dangerous and impractical. 34 Interestingly, a few years after this appeal was written, Clottes came under fierce attack and even ridicule by many representatives of the French intelligentsia, including some of the countrya€™s most prominent prehistorians, after he and David Lewis-Williams published a€?The Shamans of Prehistory: Trance and magic in the painted cavesa€? in 1996.
As soon as their results indicating that the art might be only 3,000 to 6,500 years old (if not even younger) were announced a€“ which actually made the engravings even more astonishing, potentially rewriting the history of rock art or even making Portugal the last bastion of the Paleolithic tradition a€“ the most important Portuguese right-wing weekly screamed that the direct-dating results proved that stylistic daters like Clottes had perpetrated a a€?FRAUDa€? (O Independente, 7 July 1995). It should also be noted that the individuals who participated in the debate were often somewhat unwittingly drawn into playing secondary or tertiary roles in a struggle between the Portuguese Ministry of Culture and Ministry of Industry.
40 In November 1995 - six months after this call-toa€“arms was published and circulated to Prehistoric Art Emergencya€™s volunteers (who Ia€™m glad to report included a young actor, Yann Montelle, who went on to earn a doctorate in prehistory) - a book edited by Jorge called a€?Dossier CA?aa€? appeared with 20 contributions by him or his wife. 44 After writing this article in May 1995, it occurred to me that I might have missed one of the main reasons for eliminating Rebanda from Portugala€™s archaeological milieu a€“ the fact that he was so effective at finding rock art that drew international attention, first to Mazouco, then to CA?a. 49 When I wrote the article, I assumed that the two young men were Rebandaa€™s subordinates and referred to them as a€?draftsmena€?. 50 After initially denigrating both the art and the idea of extracting it, the EDP later adopted the idea as one of its three strategies for overcoming opposition to the dam project.
1787 a€“ Thomas Buck applied for 400 acres including an improvement (house or barn) on the south side of Raystown Branch of the Juniata River on both sides of Brush Creek, adjoining Alisona€™s Survey, in Providence.
1789 a€“ Thomas Buck applied for 100 acres on the southeast side of Warrior Ridge, adjoining a survey of James Hunter on the north and by a survey of Barnard Dougherty esq. And since the times have got so hard in the West I am glad I did not go, but I will come and see you all yet if all goes right but I can't say when. John Buck told me I could write a piece in his letter and I am very thankful to write with him as we have not your address.
I would have answered before now but was still thinking of being closer to you before this time but am about fixing to move back again to the old home place in Pennsylvania.
I have had work all winter in a wholesale house where it is heated with gas, as warm as wood care. It is unusual that Jeffa€™s fathera€™s first name is Walton, and Jeffa€™s middle name is Walton.
Remember when a south Mississippi wedding reception was cake, punch, mints, and nuts?)A  You can imagine Tracya€™s dismay when we even considered not serving alcohol at the reception. The person I contacted at the school asked me what pieces were in our set and what the initials were on the bottom of each piece.A  It turns out that the earliest pieces of our set were carved by one of the original students at the school which was established in the Depression era.
We were very fortunate that our hospital did not flood.A  We slept on the floor for the first few days until the nurses needed blood pressure medication for their own personal meds and we bartered for some mattresses. FEMA was given the same list on the same day and delivered a grand total of three cases of IV fluids two weeks later.A  It was funny that the first medicine we ran out of was Colace, a stool softener. This was finally and perfectly expressed by my father at his own funeral.A  They both had a detailed plan for their funerals which included details of the hymns and scripture to be used. As an adult, I see that church as a beautiful church with impressive stained glass, but not quite so huge. 1733 in Pfalzgrafenweiler to Johann Martin Kirschenmann, a rafter there, who was the son of Jacob Kirschenmann, who was a baker there. And on the motion of Isaac Sinclair, the Executor therein named, who made oath together with Alexander Simmons his Security entered into and acknowledged their Bond in the Penalty of Five Hundred Dollars conditioned as the Law directs Certificate is granted him for obtaining Probate thereof in due form.
It was the largest tract of land ever granted in America, under which Penn was made the proprietor and invested with the privilege of creating a political government. Pleasant township, Adams County, Pa., in 1788, it seems highly improbable this entry could refer to him. 1733 in Pfalzgrafenweiler to Johann Martin Kirschenmann, a rafter there, who was the son of Jacob Kirschenmann, who was a baker there.A  This date matches exactly with the record in the Pfalzgrafenweiler parish given above.
1816 a tragedy struck the family when their oldest little boy, ten year old William, suddenly died.
1822 just a copule years after their arrival, much like Roberta€™s mother; and she was raised by her widowed mother, who died about a month after Sally was married. Waddle (sometimes spelled a€?Waddella€? especially in the earlier generations), as well as his son, George R. Not only were frescoes of rhinos, horses and lions over 30,000 years old found in a cave in the Ardeche on Dec. Although theya€™re probably right, ita€™s worth noting that these same specialists used similar criteria to ascribe the animals of Chauvet to the same period - until carbon 14 results pushed their age back over 10,000 years, shattering the notion that prehistoric art had evolved linearly, like technologies.
In France, the Ministry of Culture placed its new treasure under the most draconian protection, despite the fact that the country already has the lion's share of Paleolithic art. Standing right in front of some of the most spectacular engravings, the Secretary of State for Culture dismissed them as being nothing more than a€?childrena€™s doodlesa€? a€“ whereupon the students from Foz CA?aa€™s high school turned the official into a laughing-stock by presenting him with a schist slab covered with their own scribblings4. It's now or never, the author of the following article decided in April 1995, as he set out to evaluate the engravings, find out the truth, and propose solutions. My 13-year old son and I had flown to Porto in Portugal and driven far up the Douro valley into the northeastern mountains, prepared to maneuver around obstructions whether by negotiation or hiking through the back door. Still, here was our first encounter with the powers that be, so I took this opportunity to probe, and get a first step up the hierarchical ladder.
So I explained how Sebastian and I had come so far to see the Paleolithic glories that Portugal would be displaying with pride, spoke of credentials, and placed us (and our pen) in his hands.
Still, we had our bearings, and drove off into the late afternoon to penetrate the heart of the forbidden zone. We were getting closer, very close now, and could spy loops of a trail among the folds of a distant ridge. And here too was the arena where one of the greatest feuds between discoverers and custodians of the past had exploded since the conflict between Othniel Marsh and Edward Drinker Cope over the fossils of extinct giants in Sioux territory during Custer's battles. With swifts swirling in up-drafts around our heads, we scrambled and picked our way among sheer precipices and ledges.
Its tight horseshoe of cliffs and rubble made the perfect hiding place for our car and tent from the gray guards roaming the surrounding crests with binoculars. Sebastian snuggled tighter into his sleeping bag, so I set out to reconnoiter alone, systematically working quadrants and contours between our quarry at Fariseu and Piscos brook. Somewhere among the jumble of a thousand rock faces would be an ancient image - perhaps masked by lichen or so faint one had to trace its parts before seeing it whole. The numbed waters suddenly spangled upstream with glitter and so many flowery white tresses of water plants that the currents looked like sudsy pastures. After all the noisy demonstrations against the dam in Lisbon, how were they to know how much clout a nosy prehistorian might have? Whatever was going to happen to him afterwards in the backwater of Portuguese archaeology had surely been inconsequential, since experience proved that nobody made much fuss over sites that were out-of-sight and out-of-mind - especially with archaeologists beholding to dam-builders and political appointees for access and records. According to the insinuations, he could have continued his documentation right up to the headwaters as his masters worked their way upstream step by step.
I sensed that this crowd felt their doctor deserved to be the one to tell fellow archaeologists that they might as well ask to visit Atlantis.
Sure enough, there was the 12 year-old Pocinho dam sweeping the valley with a clean curtain.14 But the silos of this former construction site's cement plant were speckled with rust, the ranks of its offices and dormitories were deserted and almost every window was broken. Fortunately, Sebastian was becoming ever more engrossed in Verne's book, spelunking towards the planet's core, so I began to gravitate down halls for exercise and companionship, coming to the door of the room where the secretary was braiding the blind's cord while two laconic draftsmen labored over tracings of horses, ibexes and aurochs. It has been insinuated that Rebanda probably discovered Rock 1 at Canada do Inferno as early as November 1991.18 In Dec.
So, quixotically, he had proposed building a dry-dock around the outcropping, and, failing that, underwater exploration. If so, the power utility may have known of incredibly rich sites years before the first blueprint for the new dam!
Clottes was the worlda€™s reigning prehistorian a€“ the man who had risen to the pinnacle of the French archaeological establishment and held the only keys to the holy grail of art caves - the unbelievably strong and ancient Grotte Chauvet. After inspecting the 15% of the art that remained above water at the site in the rising dama€™s shadow, because the EDP had hardly felt it necessary to lower the water for the visit of the foreigner sent by the now antagonistic IPPAR, Clottes stepped before a highly polarized press corps. The dam-builders and their government backers felt vindicated while much of Portuguese public was crestfallen or furious. The dam had become a poisonous political issue in a national election with the President and his fellow Socialists attacking the center-right Prime Minister for its willingness to sacrifice both the nationa€™s patrimony and vineyards to a flaky building scheme. As if the owners of villas built around the new lake would really allow it to be drained 100 meters to its bottom - where almost all of the known panels would soon be drowned a€“ once every decade! Suddenly, the Portuguese public felt that the dam-builders were not only destroying the nationa€™s most ancient claim to world grandeur and civilization, but that they were in league with a man who would never have been so cavalier with Paleolithic masterpieces in his own country! When I later asked Portuguese archaeologists if they were going to attend an up-coming conference organized by Clottes, they recoiled.
First, because Clottesa€™ retinue of hosts, diplomats and reporters was rushing him and putting him in a bind a€“ even if his stature, pride, and role as UNESCOa€™s expert on rock art had led him into it. They even echoed his faith in getting dam operators to regularly empty the vast lake a€“ despite the glaring evidence of the EDPa€™s behavior at CA?a itself. No sooner had Clottes triggered a public outcry, than he began to explain away his tepid defense of the CA?aa€™s importance by saying that he had not been shown enough art to form a true idea of the valleya€™s richness.35 But the truth is, he was shown Rebandaa€™s trove of drawings from submerged sections and sites upstream36 and could have been more demanding. After all it was a lot of money, the government was inflexible, the controversy had become a campaign issue a€“ which meant that his advice would seem like foreign meddling - and the elections were still far off.
When, in fact, the long-term rights for the cave in France would belong to its Ministry of Culture a€“ which was already attacking its discoverer, Chauvet, for the pittance hea€™d received for his pictures. But I could hardly hold my tongue: why on earth had he invited people from this caste of academics back into his life - and the valley - when at least one of them had apparently abused him? The picture was compelling: SimAµes and her husband angelically insisting that the world must be told, while the hireling screamed demonically over the fire, accusing university archaeologists of trying to hog the credit yet again. If Rebanda had known SimAµes and Jaffe were going to paint him into a corner, wouldn't he have raced for the exit? Both Rebanda and SimAµes de Abreu could have been traitors and saviors at once, and as long as I was with this archaeologist, I felt bound to encourage the savior in him. It must have seemed like an insult to him after all his efforts, so with an anarchic gesture, he announced, what the hell, he'd photocopy their fax when it came, so we could enter a second. Huge black derricks hulked atop the dam beside a row of gate-lifting pistons that looked like Big Berthas. We bagged the warning or omen, caught and released a giant water beetle - the kind that injects deliquescing enzymes into living frogs, then sucks out their juice - and worked our way along what was actually the upper tier of a disappearing cliff.
When art panels are located in the CA?aa€™s side valleys, they are apparently concentrated on northern slopes. I was a willing guide as we skewered corn kernels on hooks, lashed lines around a log and threw the lethal leashes into the dark. They were a hundred yards apart, making perpetual rounds as they kept time clocks happy by cranking them every few paces with keys chained to the fence. It was probably his first job after military service, but he was intelligent enough to realize that hea€™d been hired as a pawn in a vast conspiracy to keep Portugal's greatest cultural wonders out of sight and out of mind, till they could be obliterated.
One, because any plan to remove the friezes not only meant assigning a value to them, but keeping the controversy alive. The mountainous dirt road forked, meandered and even skirted an imposing castle,51 but several classes of children were making the long dusty pilgrimage on foot while carloads of adults in their Sunday best made the excursion to see the only engravings to have escaped the censors - either because the site at Penascosa was so far from Lima Montiero's spyglass or because the valley was gentler here and had always been farmed. I hadn't passed the first olive tree when I happened upon a well-knapped hand-axe, and then another! On-line commentary entitled a€?Some corrections about the CA?a petroglyphsa€? in TRACCE no. While Chauveta€™s name was given to the cave itself, the names of his co-discoverers were given to two of its large chambers. Mila SimAµes de Abreu and Ludwig Jaffe were the founders of the APAAR (AssociaA§ao Portuguesa de Arte e Arqueologia Rupestre), which has been a member of IFRAO (International Federation of Rock Art Organisations) since Sept. In an on-line commentary, Jaffe denounced what he perceived as a continuation of the scandal under new management: a€?In December 1994 IPPAR passed the responsibility for the rock art in the Coa valley to Mario Varela Gomes and Antonio Martinho Baptista. Their critics often subscribe to the doctrine that modern ethnographic evidence cannot be used to interpret ancient cultures. Although Bednarik was one of the earliest crusaders for CA?a - calling for the EDP to stop building the dam in Nov. The leftist press and Portuguese archaeological milieu reacted with just as much reflection, ignoring both Bednarika€™s qualifiers and his pioneering role in organizing the world campaign to fight for the whole valleya€™s salvation (see Dossier CA?a p.
Of the 66 contributions written by individuals, not one is by Nelson Rebanda, whose ghost a€“ to anyone interested in intellectual property a€“ haunts every line. After the CA?a scandal served its purpose as an electoral issue that helped the Socialists to win power, the new government kept its campaign promise by protecting the CA?a Valley but used the goodwill engendered by the decision to blunt criticism while flooding other huge assemblages of rock art.


3; Catherine Vincent, writing in Le Monde on March 11, 1995, goes into much more detail about one particular vineyard, Ervamoira, that would have been lost, along with its exceptional Port wine.
The first was to prove that the engravings were not Paleolithic a€“ an effort that entrapped researchers who wanted to apply experimental direct-dating techniques. The reason is that the man that was to buy my farm, backed out and I had made sale on the 27th day of March and sold everything to come and then after that man backed out I was to sell to another man and his wife died just two days before the time was for us to start and that knocked me all wrong all that I had and the balance of the company before I could rent again. My wife has been sick nearly ever since we have been in Ohio and is not sadis ficte [sic satisfied] to go any farther west and she now has the agure [ague] and two of my children has got it and I have concluded to take them where the Agure seldom comes any more, that is in Pennsylvania where they was born.
The themometer was at one time 14 degrees below zero, that was perty cold, but they have had two feet of snow on the level back at our old home place this winter. After graduating from South Jones High School, I attended Millsaps College and graduated in 1972.
Church was the center of the activity at our house.A  I still remember Mother cooking her a€?besta€? for covered-dish dinners and especially for the times when the District Superintendent came for Sunday dinner. The wedding invitations had so many a€?Waltona€? components, many people thought the printers had made a mistake.A  We have three children, Tracy Lynn, Roger (Rogera€™s middle name is also Walton), and Christy Jo. You did not even need any bait.A  We would throw a string in the water, and the crabs would grab the string and stay on it until you pulled them out of the water. Then, the granddaughter stopped growing and I started sewing my own clothes.A  I made all my clothes until the hippie style of jeans and T shirts became the standard wardrobe of a sixties college student. A The son of this original carver is considered one of the best from the school, and he carved the wise men and shepherds.A  The baby Jesus and manger and small angel were carved by the lady who is considered the best carver of the baby Jesus and manger. 1770 -- little is known of his life, but he was listed as one of Johanna€™s sons in the 1804 will.
Johna€™s Evangelical Lutheran Church in a€?Elizabeth Towna€? (now Hagerstown) Maryland on 13 Nov. Liberty being granted the other Executors to join in the probate thereof when he shall think fit. 1681 in Tumlingen, Schwarzwaldkreis, Wuerttemberg, as the son of Hans Jacob Schmid and Anna Maria Helber) who had married on 2 Aug.
Geery, that to the best of their knowledge and belief, the names of the heirs of John Geery deceased, and their places of residence are as follows: Robert Geery and Catharine Shotwell formerly Catherine Geery of Pike County and John G. Geery, that to the best of their knowledge and belief, the names of the heirs of John Geery deceased, and their places of residence are as follows:A  Robert Geery and Catharine Shotwell formerly Catherine Geery of Pike County and John G.
18th1, but Europea€™s biggest open-air gallery of Paleolithic animals was reported just a month earlier in the CA?a Valley of northeastern Portugal2.
Regardless of how old the CA?aa€™s art turns out to be, it is unique in its richness above ground and astonishing in its illustrations of movement - with animals tossing their heads with the same stop-action dynamism found at Chauvet and only millennia later in photography and Futurist painting. The Chauvet Cavea€™s prehistoric bestiary was proudly splashed across magazines around the world.
Soon, the guard turned into a regular lad, wrote down the chief engineer's name and pointed beyond the ramp-laced moonscape - into the wilderness.
In this walled garden, the conflicting passions of archaeologists had exploded around a campfire, set a president and prime minister against each other, and cowed the emissaries of UNESCO. Lizards skidded into fissures, a rusty blade wedged in a nook beside a sliver of cliff garden spoke of an emigrant who had never returned, but the walls seemed barren. Over and over again, the scene seemed set, the rock stretched, but its lines were just fractals.
I yanked myself up to a platform less than a step wide and a ten-foot long cow - an auroch!
By holding the animal's form and movement vividly in mind, the maker had poured himself into its body and experienced a power beyond abstraction, beyond even tool-making, to thrill to the new power of passing through the looking-glass into another being. A stream, running pure as its springs over crisp cresses between alternating bull rushes and crags, almost made it to the river unaltered, but met it just below the threshold and sank into an estuary. We had arrived at Pandemonium and would try to insinuate ourselves into an audience with the Chief Engineer himself. Only one was so spotless and redolent of perks, though, with its rolled lawn incongruous in the desert, that we knew right where to head among forking roads.
I was hardly surprised when these well-fed pros passed the buck to the only gaunt and partially toothless fellow traveler among them. So they decided to play it safe by dumping me on their pet nemesis, the organizationa€™s own archaeological a€?hirelinga€?, Dr. He could have added to his hoard of exclusive photos and measurements, imposed interpretations, and generally lorded it over his peers - for who could have naysayed him with his treasures locked a hundred meters deep in so many great watery safes?10 And to think that all the dam-builders' pet archaeologist and his accommodating superiors at the Portuguese Institute for Architectural and Archaeological Heritage (IPPAR)11 in Lisbon - to whom Rebanda had reported his discoveries at least twice12 - had had to do to pull off this economically patriotic (not to say mutually beneficial) stunt was keep their mouths shut!
After having suffered at the hands of his mentor, Professor Jorge, why had Rebanda put himself at the mercy of two similar academics and representatives of an international body to boot - Mila SimAµes de Abreu and her archaeologist husband, Ludwig Jaffe, who represented the International Federation of Rock Art Organizations (IFRAO)? At least such nuisances would keep him from getting up to more mischief by turning up new discoveries. But, finally, a secretary answered my summons and let me into a vestibule empty except for a display of postcard-sized photographs of some of the engravings, and a cartoon caricaturing the scandal - which I reckoned had been knowingly posted to co-opt criticism. I couldn't quite make out the man's features through the crack, but it was obvious he was gushing recriminations - and no wonder: the entire archaeological profession had ganged up on the pariah.
We all knew I had crossed a threshold, but, after all, I had paid my dues, and in any case, I padded off to the foyer again. Yet they'd prattled to the press that they had found the art a year ago, and then more like two years ago, and now, word had it, a€?onlya€? three years ago25 - when it was always somehow too late to stop the process leading up to construction, which had only started in September a€™94.26 The gall! Instantly, I whipped out paper and scribbled the fastest copy of the main map that my hand could draw.
After SimAµes de Abreu and Jaffe had unleashed the scandal by revealing the conspiracy to flood Europea€™s richest assemblage of open-air Paleolithic art, the IPPAR and Portuguese Ministry of Culture had scrambled to get their own expert witness a€“ and, in a further twist, had asked UNESCO to recommend an expert to challenge the power companya€™s growing efforts to prove the art wasna€™t Paleolithic but recent27 a€“ in which case, the EDP seemed to think that the public would drop the subject as being the relatively recent work of peasants drawing their cows.
For all their heightened sensitivity to having CA?aa€™s fate evaluated by a foreigner, the Portuguese press viewed Clottes as a referee and expected a verdict.
Then, as fate would have it, Clottes was back in the headlines within the week, announcing drastic measures to protect Francea€™s new crown jewel, Chauvet. And as if anyone could even find new art during the two weeks a lake might be emptied (every hundred years) while everything was coated with algae and grime! Opposition editorialists had a field day with Clottesa€™ apparent hypocrisy and dismissiveness towards Portugal - and demonstrators flooded the streets. Two, because people are often driven to produce their greatest work and worst mistakes by similar drives.
Rebanda was even fooling himself on this score, I thought - after all, the Foz CA?a photographs would probably end up belonging to Portugala€™s own ministry or even the EDP.
Scientists - like lawyers - ply an adversarial trade, but the chance to put Portugal into the archaeological heavens a€“ and to boost their own reputations with it - had given many researchers more ulterior motives than usual.
Personally, I couldn't see anybody bedding down for the night and traipsing out the next morning with people who had announced that they were going to expose him. In essence, my heart a€“ if not my mind - had taken his side for the moment; he was the underdog, on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and I was concerned that he might even attempt suicide. If I didn't mind coming back at 9 the next morning, he apologized, the approval should be there. But basically the dam was a streamlined machine without much need for local intervention or maintenance. My unequivocal certification of their global importance only made him uneasier, as he didn't know whether to feel flattered or upset.
We peered into a dovecot, a squat white tower lined inside with empty compartments like a city after a plague.
Suddenly, a deeply hammered auroch on the rock stood out boldly as a road sign - alerting us to an entire herd. The geology, erosion, & silica skins protecting engravings all seem similar on both slopes, so I theorize that this positioning is not simply a taphonomic illusion created by the disappearance of engravings on the southern slopes. I wasn't expecting anything when I ambled down at dawn, but there it was: a big mound under the bank! From what I could tell, even his draftsmen had decided to take the day off 49, once they realized the coast was clear. By God, I thought, if the flooders don't save them, I hope the townspeople storm the valley!
If the guards hadn't been under strict orders not to sell admissions, they'd have made a killing; but then any financial association with the art is anathema to the dammers: the next thing they knew, they'd have a revolt on their hands! And like the first guard, when he realized that I had somehow gotten authorization despite my evident opposition to the reservoir, he let out his pent-up indignation - for we were insiders. As we passed the threshold between the deadened depths and virgin current with its billowing water-foliage, we had to skirt and climb over a sheer wall blocking the side-valleya€™s entrance. The intertwined couple, spanning the length of a single real horse, was still necking in Eden after twenty millennia. Rock Art and the CA?a Valley Archaeological Park: A case study in the preservation of Portugal's prehistoric parietal heritage. Although it is true that one must be extremely circumspect about doing so, such evidence often opens new perspectives that have more in common with the subsistence systems of ancient cultures than does our own, and the two authors showed considerable originality and courage in exploring it. 1994 - most Portuguese archaeologists with access to the CA?a sites now shun him as thoroughly as they do Clottes and Rebanda.
539, for a resolution, written in defense of CA?a, by Bednarik, in a book filled with vitriole against him). These retractions confirmed that some of ZilhA?oa€™s criticisms of the direct dating attempts were well founded, but dona€™t necessarily reflect on other matters raised in his disputes with Bednarik and Jaffe. In the English sections, Jorge generously credits numerous associates and generations of Portuguese prehistorians by full name, while studiously avoiding any mention of Rebanda except where it is unavoidable, and then only with his last name between brackets.
The second was to make casts of panels for a museum a€“ which may have damaged some panels.
Buck a visit now, so must bring these few lines to a close by asking you to please write soon as this reaches you. The Grande Ecaille mine was closed two years after we moved to Port Sulphur, and the company closed the town site and we moved to Slidell. A How did we get in and out of a car with our dresses so short that?A  Our son, Roger, did learn to sew a little bit when he took home ec in high school.A  His motivation for taking that class was more the ratio of boys to girls rather than learning to sew. You would stand with your backside to the heater for a few minutes and then run and hop in the bed.A  At some point in time, I think in the early sixties, we started using electric blankets. We received the three wise men, shepherds, and angels, a single piece each year until I was in college. The appraiser classified the manger set as a a€?national treasure.a€?A  The treasure is my memories of the excitement as the family unwrapped the new piece each year.
Calls between the affected areas in Louisiana and Mississippi were difficult to complete, but we could talk to the kids and Jeffa€™s sister Ceil in Jackson.
1777 [Washington County, Maryland Church Records of the 18th Century, by Family Lines Publication, 1988.
While the paintings in the French cave, which became known as the Grotte Chauvet, often have engraved contours, the Portuguese menagerie may also have been painted, but, being outdoors, their pigments have usually weathered away.
As shadows welled from the valley, we turned from the scarps and trundled downwards into the cleavage, till the road turned into a path to the water through a profusion of poppies. Finally, I discerned a flock ambling down through dry brush, then a shirt flashed a white dot, and we converged within hailing distance on opposite banks. Even ideal panels on either side of a fig tree bulging titanically from a small cave were barren. A stand of poplar trees crackled like Chinese New Year with small birds, abundant as leaves.
It was a good thing we had his name, Lima Monteiro, because the Securitas guard on this side meant business. Our compact car slid in among Mercedes and I stepped into glare, drawing cool stares from fleshy faces. My interlocutor explained that the Chief Engineer was powerless to help me, so he couldn't be bothered to give me an audience. Of course, the stories went, the honorable witnesses had refused to become accomplices and had immediately denounced the whole plot a€“ writing open letters to the Portuguese President, Vice President and Director of IPPAR - with carbon copies for the press.13 If only his employers had known that Rebanda was so naive! She announced that it was no use disturbing the doctor, who I could see through a jarred door talking to someone over the phone with peevish vehemence.
Finally, I suggested that she didn't need to keep me company while I waited for the good doctor to get off the phone. That's strange, I thought as I wandered off again, mulling over a mental photograph of the site distribution.
And here were others, even closer to the construction site, at "RA?go de Vide", which had been submerged by the same old dam!
Still, she caught me; whereupon I went on elaborating it, asking questions, and then padded back to the foyer again to continue my vigil. After all, the archaeologists and reporters had allowed the Tagus petrogylphs to be drowned with hardly a whimper.
Not only did the contrast with his actions in Portugal now smack of a double standard, but there was a piquant irony. With stakes this high, both parties unleashed their opinion-making machines, making hash of Clottesa€™ carefully weighed words as quickly as theya€™d vilified Rebanda. Clottesa€™ words may have been earnest, but with stakes this high and politicized they were about as reasonable as Pontius Pilatea€™s attempts to keep the peace.
I prefer to think the latter, and that his only mistake was thinking that people on both sides were lucid and reflective enough to interpret his verdict correctly.
In Rebanda's place, I'd have calmed down and let the traitors fall to sleep, but then I'd have snuck away - trekking fast through the dark, picking myself up when I fell, but getting out - bloody knees and all - and calling that alarm first! Furthermore, I had no doubt - whatever pacts he'd struck - that he would make up for them if only approached constructively. After we'd faxed it, I was sorry to see him having to still recall and refax, as he nudged the request repeatedly through the unyielding bureaucracy.
Sebastian and I scrambled and tacked among the carious cliffs, till there was nothing left but rock overhanging the water itself.
But a huge horse, leaning over the depths, was both more graceful and cryptic, for someone had wedged a rusty horseshoe into a crack between its hooves.
No sooner had I chipped the thin device and steadily shoved each curve straight, than the hook slipped smoothly free.
Only Rebanda's long-suffering secretary had to keep her post and occupied herself by taking up the relay of calling and faxing. These red and gray devices were not only customized to match the guards' uniforms, but showed off the latest in high-tech materials and molding. As we wound our way down towards the reservoir among towering red cliffs, he took quiet pride in pointing out the hidden elements of scattered engravings. But then Piscos Brook ran between trees, pastures and cane-groves, with cliffs full of shelters and stone panels at each bend.
La Pintura, The Official Newsletter of the American Rock Art Research Association (Member of IFRAO) Volume 21, Number 3, Winter. In the same book, which Jorge compiled to record the campaign he was spear-heading to save CA?a a€“ a laudatory effort, if there ever was one, that made Jorge synonymous with yet another of Rebandaa€™s finds - Bednarik is repeatedly dismissed as a a€?charlatana€? (pp. Jaffe accused the trio, who had taken over responsibility for the archaeological resources of the valley, of endangering art panels and refusing to allow qualified foreign researchers or even Dr. Whatever the case may be, the problem of rock art conservation is still as far from resolution in Portugal as it is in most other places in the world. 1843, David Garlick also passed away at the age of 63 and was buried in the old Pioneer Cemetery on the SE corner of that city.
Corn up here, the folks that has corn is just pulling the ears off leaving the foder so that stops the work from off the farms hands so there is no work to do. William is clerking in a grocery store and drives a delivery wagon for the store part of his time.
Maybe you can mind old Peter Weaverling that used to live east of my father, it is one of his boys she married, sister to Daisy Garlick. That manger scene is one of the first items packed in my car as we evacuate for a hurricane. All that remains, where jagged outcroppings of schist jut from brushy slopes - exposing terminal facets perfect for murals - are hauntingly sinuous outlines of deer, horses, ibexes, and wild cattle called aurochs. The first flurry of press articles had mentioned that many of the engravings were already submerged by the cofferdam holding the river back for the more monstrous wall rising downstream from it. I sent greetings and the shepherd expostulated and gestured animatedly upstream towards towering slabs. For me, all of mankind's later accomplishments, all our later experience of good and evil only become possible after such art. The irrelevant exchange had sparked sympathy as we both waited - and waited, in similar irrelevance to someone too consumed to give us heed. I would have to go to Lisbon, and no, it wouldn't do any good for him to fax; he didn't have an iota of authority. Despite all the insinuations about Rebanda and IPPAR, they were actually the first to try blocking the philistines with the clout of an institution as important as UNESCO. About thirty years before, Francea€™s equivalent to the EDP had taken the entire Ardeche Gorge, where the Chauvet Cave had just been found, from its entrance at Sauze to a rainbow-huge, natural arch - Vallon Pont da€™Arc, next to Chauvet - by eminent domain, to build a dam. These conscientious people know that theya€™re barely tolerated by the forces of Mammon - scraping crumbs from the tables of vast enterprises armed with dynamite and bulldozers - and make compacts all the time with them, telling themselves, for instance, that the alluvial strata that cement plants exploit are always too tumbled to contain intact Acheulian hearths. If only he'd announced the discovery, co-opted his employers, and splashed masterpieces across magazine covers while the art's existence was still fresh, he might have won honor, fame, a very small fortune (and maybe even kept his job). Within weeks, local academics had begun signing their names to Rebandaa€™s discoveries, tracings, and interpretations while forgetting to cite him. I'd have been the one to announce the existence of the largest gathering of open-air Paleolithic engravings in Europe to the world.
Slate slabs, thoughtfully laid into a wall as steps, led down through a canopy of fig trees into a cavernous wallow between cliffs.
I woke Sebastian in time to see the beast lumber over the bank and glide away, and then it was high time we checked out our other line at the doctor's office. Noon passed as we still waited together like an old couple, talking about the doctor's misery, Australian rock art, translations; whatever. The guards stiffened as Sebastian and I had the gumption to breach a forbidden zone and stride blithely forward. There were so many warblers piping and whistling, there must have been a dozen species with overlapping territories. Botha€? - Baptista and Gomes a€“ a€?were closely involved in the rationale to submerge the rock art (to 'protect it from vandals'); in fact, on 8 November Baptista spoke of how sedimentation behind dams should protect rock arta€? - my italics.
After our departure, Bednarik and three other researchers (Alan Watchman from Canada, plus Fred Phillips and Ronald Dorn from the USA), who believed that they had found ways to date rock art directly, studied some of the CA?aa€™s engravings during separate visits.
1995 that was led by Mounir Bouchenaki, the IPPAR formed a scientific committee consisting of Antonio BeltrA?n, Emmanuel Anati and Jean Clottes, who came back for a second round. And so, forgive me, but in comparison to these ancient windows, cathedrals seem to have anti-climatic and overwrought power. Except for the absence now of bigger species, this was how Solutreans had experienced the world - with whistling, mooing, barking, roaring and trumpeting not just on the Serengeti, but to the frozen north! So much will go unrecorded because of all this fuss.a€? a€“ So, Rebanda is resigned to the inevitability of the flooding, I thought. If the dam had been built, a dozen known art caves would have been flooded or affected by rising water tables. So rather than condemn Clottes, perhaps the Portuguese should simply admit his diplomacy opened the debate, even if one might wish that hea€™d been a crusader. From Chauveta€™s pinnacle, its gatekeeper was probably right to dismiss the scratchings, which I too thought could have been the kneading of bears, but the contrast between the levels of encouragement was striking. Although they granted him the discovery of Hella€™s Canyon (in footnotes), other sites that Rebanda had already noted were soon claimed by competitors as Rebanda was effectively silenced. And Vitor and his wife, Susanaa€? - was it my imagination or did her name stick in his craw?
Their stingy hypocrisy and philistinism revolted me: they wouldn't spend a penny on protecting such discoveries, but they'd drown the world up to its headwaters to keep driving Mercedes. Goldfinches sparked into the air, a crested hoopoo flashed orange and black, and the shaggy canes were a tumult of avian chatter. Jaffe was also the IFRAO representative of the SocietA  Cooperativa Archaeologica, Le Orme della€™Uomo, Italy (Bednarik 1994). But not before signing controversial non-disclosure agreements with the EDP, which was hoping that their techniques would yield dates so recent that they could be used to ridicule stylistic daters who had identified the engravings as Paleolithic (Baptista & Fernandes 2007, p. Intermittent splashes smacked echoes off the walls, a frog croaked and some beast keened a cry we had never heard. When I asked if they could intercede on our behalf, she said one had to apply in person, in Lisbon, and have connections. In fact, paw prints indicated that we had missed cornering another feral dog or fox in its lair. Surgically, it was a nightmare: I'd have to pry its head out, keep its neck extended, wedge open its powerful beak and finally thrust the treble barbs down its throat, so as to carefully extract their burr, without snagging them again! Finally, they agreed that one of them would walk parallel to us, down the fence-line, to let us in the distant gate. At our feet, frogs skipped like pebbles and painted turtles rowed earnestly in tangled water blossoms - all for the taking. Unless you and I and all of us together add our voices to those of the Portuguese citizenry trekking down for a last look, and reclaim what is OURS!
The story of the denunciation is from Bednarik (1994) and Simons in the New York Times (1994). Garlick was then baptized for John and Jacob Bumgardner and the record calls him a a€?half nephewa€? of those two men. Louis Missouri children and heirs of Mary Copelin formerly Mary Geery, and Jane Geery widow of the deceased.
Even the Chauvet Cave, which was unknown, might have been threatened by the changing water table!
Unfortunately, Bednarik, who is one of the worlda€™s most encyclopedically informed, accomplished, and bold prehistorians, walked right into the trap. Jorgea€™s utter dismissal of Bednarik was clearly motivated by the lattera€™s implicit condemnation of the way that Jorge had appropriated Rebandaa€™s earlier discovery at Mazouco, instigating Rebandaa€™s secrecy that was one component of the CA?a a€?cover-upa€? (Bednarik 1994, p. Later, Bednarik spear-headed another campaign to save a Portuguese rock-art assemblage from inundation a€“ this time behind a dam in the Guadiana Valley - and noted that a€?None of this helps the rock art of the Guadiana, condemned to inundation under billions of tonnes of lake sediment as the reservoir silts up over the next 70 yearsa€? a€“ again, my italics.
Do you think I'm such a fool as to invite the man who deprived me of the credit for my first discovery, to come see my greatest wonders if it wasn't because I needed all the allies I could get; if it wasn't because I even needed the universities to help save them. Ironically, the mandarin in Porto would come out smelling like roses for his campaign while the roles of several well-meaning prehistorians, if I may insist upon the word, were simplified so as to make them better scapegoats. First, because his dating system, which was based on determining the degree of micro-erosion undergone by a rock face, had been developed in Australia, where climate and geological conditions are different from Portugala€™s. This odd statement flies in the face of Bednarika€™s consistent defense of both the CA?aa€™s art and other assemblages, suggesting that it was a ploy to get the EDP to allow them to test their methods.
Even though both men concluded that their observations proved that the art was no older than the Neolithic, Bednarik did not repeat the notion, when announcing his results, that a relatively recent vintage diminished the arta€™s importance or the need to protect it a€“ quite the contrary.



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