The Perfect Fishin’ Hole

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by April Heath Pastis
Maybe there’s something to the Scottish stereotype of being thrifty, because my mother has always appreciated a good deal. And this was a great deal. When I was about 10 years old, my mother had saved enough Blue Chip stamp books to buy my brothers, my sister and me each a fishing pole of our own. Now, I don’t know how many stamps or how long it took her to save up but I do remember that every time she went to the grocery store, she got Blue Chip stamps. After putting the groceries away, we’d all sit at the kitchen table and lick stamps and stick them in the empty pages in her stamp books. She hadn’t told us why we were doing this and we never asked because back then, kids just did as they were told.
One day, our mailman, whose name escapes me just now, stopped by for his normal cup of coffee and chat. Next to him was a bundle of long skinny boxes and to our delight, he left them when he departed. We badgered and badgered Mom about their contents until finally she let on that they were fishing poles. When Dad got home from work, he pulled one open to an audience of oohing and awing youngsters. Dad told us all about the ol’ days when he was a kid and he’d go fishing in Flint (Michigan). He said that his great-grandfather Walter Gray Sullivan taught him how to fish. They were all expert fishermen back then, Dad said. “My Granddad Sullivan was … and his Granddad Sullivan was … and his Granddad Sullivan was… all the way back to old Granddad Noah Sullivan. What? Didn’t you know we were related to Noah?”
Dad didn’t need any prodding when it came to telling stories. We sat on the floor around him as he regaled us with adventures lived by hardened characters with names like Donny Doogie and “your Uncle Darrel (Darold).”
So we all couldn’t wait to become expert fishermen ourselves. We’d show ’em that we were better fishers than any of them. Heck we were naturals. It was in our genes.
The fishing poles were very high quality, Dad said. All we knew was that we had to wait until Saturday to try them out. I don’t remember how many days it was, but it sure seemed like a lifetime to us before Saturday rolled around.
Finally, on a particularly hot Saturday, the seven of us piled into Dad’s wood-sided station wagon and headed up into the Azusa Foothills. From the back seat, my brothers and sister and I bet who would get the biggest fish. We wondered how it would be to eat a fish dinner made from something we had caught ourselves. Dad said he hadn’t had a good fried catfish dinner in years. Mom replied she’d never really liked fish and she was more concerned about who was going to cook the dinner. I wondered why she got us all poles then. Go figure.
At the base of the San Gabriel Mountains there was a small shack with an old sign with paint so worn you could barely read the word “Bait.” We stopped there and my Dad returned with a bucket. I didn’t know what was in it. I probably would have squealed if he had said it was full of worms.
Winding up the steep cliffs off Azusa Highway was always exciting to me as a kid. We came into California that way and the sight had been awesome. This was the “purple mountains majesty” sung about in “God Bless America.” It was breathtaking to a little kid. Looking down from inside the car, it seemed as if the road just dropped dead away into nothing. One wrong turn and the car would plunge thousands of feet. It didn’t matter though. I never thought that anyone actually had accidents back then and besides the cars followed each other at a snail’s pace. The two-lane highway forced cars to travel in long lines behind a slow moving vehicle until finally a turn off would appear so that the slow car could let the rest of us by. Every car would then speed up for one or two curves til they were stopped by another slow-moving car until the next mile would bring up the next turn-off.
Finally, we turned off the road ourselves and we all burst out of the hot humid car, pulling our legs off the hot sticky vinyl seats. My father had found a great stream. My mother waited under a tree by the cars and the Fishing Heaths were off to discover our heritage as wise ol’ fishermen. We all made our way across the rocks, slipping here and there and scraping a knee or two. I carried Paul, who was five, across the rocks that were too big for him to jump across.
Finally, Dad said, “This is good,” with the authority of one who knew about these things. He settled down and attempted to teach us how to stick our hooks into a squirming worm. Of course, I wouldn’t let it show that it bugged me and laughed at loud at my kid sister, Beth, who refused to touch one of the gushy crawlers. Finally, Dad got all of our hooks loaded with worms, noticing that the ones he had done first had already dried out because of the heat of the day which must’ve been well into the 100s.
He taught us how to throw the line out so that we didn’t catch onto somebody behind us. He warned that it would hurt like mad or put somebody’s eye out if we got careless. We managed to throw out our lines and were told to wait ’til the fish bit. We waited and we waited. I looked deep into the stream and saw nothing but water down to the rocks in the shallow bed. I looked at my brother Curt who had done the same thing. He had a “There aren’t any fish here” expression. I nodded in agreement. We didn’t dare say anything to Dad who was quickly losing his patience with the younger kids, Beth, Shane and Paul, who fought with him all the harder as he tried to help. Although we tried to wait patiently, the blazing sun was making it difficult to concentrate on our task.
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I managed to slip off my shoes and dipped my feet into the cool pool. Little by little, we’d slip a little further into the refreshing water until we were no longer fishing; we were wading. Curtis showed me that if you piled rocks you could dam an area and make a nice wading area. Finally, Dad threw up his hands in disgust and ordered us back to the car.We all piled in and headed home. No one spoke on the way home. We were all disappointed that our new career as expert fishermen had come to an end so quickly.
The next week, however, Dad announced that someone at his work told him about a better place to fish in San Dimas. This news was met with a bit less excitement (to say the least) than the previous week. In fact, we had to be ordered out of bed on next Saturday. Once again, we piled back into the station wagon for our next attempt. Mom, as if to cheer us up, packed a picnic. The promise of sodas did spark us up and in no time we were all willing to give it another go. Finally, we pulled into a nice area that had a manmade pond in it called Puddingstone. My brothers and I would come to call it Puddlestone. It was a muddy rocky lake that doesn’t exist today. Now it is a water park with slides and beaches which draws a lot more of a crowd than it did then. During those early fishing days, it was unusual to see another person on the lake, er um, pond. But, I have to admit that we did spend many fun hours there.
On our first time out, we waded out as far as we could until the water came up to the edge of the shore. The feeling of mud squishing between my toes was cool and soothing so I didn’t mind much the discomfort and long waiting yet to be endured. I don’t know when it occurred for the others, but when I felt that first tug on my line — pardon the pun, but — I was hooked. I loved to fish. Too bad the fish were the size of sardines and Dad made us throw them all back. It was just the same as when he went hunting, rather tried to go hunting, Dad moaned. He heard guys tell about the deer hunting in the mountains in California and so he went too. But, when he finally spotted a buck, it was so tiny and weak he nearly cried with pity. It was nothing like hunting in Michigan he said and he never went again. But fishing was different. Despite the size of the fish, Dad insisted that he’d heard there were big fish in this lake, er um, pond, and “he” was going to find them even if “we” had to stay there all summer.
So we spent the summer at Puddingstone, sometimes staying out ’til it was dark. My brothers and I were always bragging about how we had caught the biggest fish and yet none of ours amounted to more than four inches long. Beth had lost interest by then, preferring the company of my mother at the picnic table or the slides and swings in the sandbox area up by the cars. We came to really enjoy fishing but never did get our fish dinner.
Finally one day, my Dad said that he heard of a place where the fish were huge and you were guaranteed to catch one!
“Sure Dad, sure,” we nodded trying to humor the poor old man. He swore up and down that he was telling the truth. We all replied with sarcasm-a-plenty. Now, you know that Dad would never ever, never ever say anything that wasn’t true. Sure his stories were a bit wild, but he was an “honest injun,” so we had to give it another try. Once again, we piled back into the hot station wagon and set off for the “best fishing hole, guar-un-teeed.”
That led us back to the Azusa foothills to a place called “Happy Jack’s.” Naive child as I was back then, I was not at all tipped off when we drove into a parking lot past a 12-foot tall sign of a shoeless hillbilly touting the best time to be had at Happy Jack’s Fish Farm. My brothers and I couldn’t believe our outstanding skills. Every time we dipped the line in, we came out with a fish. Huge fish. They were big! Well at least a foot long which was an incredible difference to what we were used to. We were catching fish left and right when my Dad said, “Stop. This is gonna cost me a fortune.” What? “What are you talking about?” We prodded Dad. Apparently, you have to pay for everything that you catch by the pound.
With the leftover time, we took a walk around the grounds of Happy Jack’s. There were different ponds full of different kinds of fish. It was here that we saw our first koi pond and Dad would eventually take up raising these beautiful fish (that actually look like large gold fish) as a hobby.
They also had a petting zoo, which is where my Mom and Paul had a run in with a goat. Every time we got to Happy Jack’s, as soon as we got out of the car, Paul would go on about wanting a quarter for feed for the animals. One day, he was feeding a baby goat. Just as mom was taking his picture, the mommy goat couldn’t resist butting Paul’s head and knocking him on his arse.
I’ve never been fishing since those summers with my Dad and brothers, and probably will never go again. But those were happy times searching for the perfect fishing hole.
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Addendum: I’ve heard from a number of people who also grew up fishing at Puddingstone, Happy Jacks and the area who tell me that this brought back a lot of memories. If you also remember this, I’d love to hear from you, even if we’re not related…
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Compiled Service Records of My Confederate Ancestors

by Charlton Queen
Anglin, John W.—3rd Sgt. Thedford’s Co. 11th Regt. Tenn Vols on 5/25/1861 at Nashville for 1 yr. Age at enlistment: 25. Present on roll 8/15/1861. Present on roll 8/1/1861-10/1/1861. 9/1861 on sick furlough since 9/4/1861. 11/1861 on detached duty at Brigade Hospital. Absent on sick furlough to home in Dickson, TN from 12/11/1861 for 30 days. 12/1861 on furlough 20 days from 12/16/1861. 1/1862 on sick furlough since 12/11/1861. Discharged for disability on 2/15/1862.
Anglin, Martin V.—Pvt. Enlisted in Thedford’s Co. 11th Tenn Vols 5/25/1861 for 1 yr. Age at enlistment: 18. Present on roll 8/15/1861. Present on roll 8/1861-4/30/1862. Present on roll 5/1/1863 at Shelbyville, TN. Transferred to Co. H 11th Tenn Vols. Not stated if present on roll from 7/1862-8/1862. Present on roll 9/1862-8/1863. Report 10/1863 states deserted when Chattanooga evacuated on 9/8/1863 taking gun and equipments. Captured on 9/12/1863 near Chattanooga. Sent to Nashville on 9/18/1863. Note: Deserter to be released at Nashville. Hs taken Oath of Allegiance.
Austin, G. W.—Pvt. Enlisted Co. K 11th TN Vols on 1/23/1863 (Conscript) at Shelbyville, TN for 3 yrs. Present on roll 1/1863-2/1864. Deserted 11/26/1864.
Barnhill, James G.—Enlisted 11/5/1862. Mustered in 12/11/1862. Age at enlistment: 32. Born: Hickman County; Height: 6’1″; Hair: Dark; Eyes: Dark; Complexion: Fair; Occupation: Farmer. Present on roll 12/11/1862-12/31/1862. Absent from roll 1/1863-2/1863. On detached service at Knoxville, TN since 2/27/1863 by order approved by Brig. Gen. Graice. Present on roll3/1863-6/1863. Absent sick from roll 7/1863-8/1863. Sent to Asylum Hospital Knoxville on 8/4/1863. Present on roll 11/1863-8/1864. Captured on 9/5/1864 at Atlanta. Sent to Louisville, Ky. Transferred to Camp Douglas, Illinois n 10/29/1864. Died of Typhoid Fever 11/13/1864. Buried Block 2 Chicago City Cemetery.
Barnhill, Vachel J.—Enlisted 11/5/1862. Mustered in 12/11/1862. Age at enlistment: 21. Born: Hickman County; Height: 6’2″; Hair: Fair; Eyes: Dark; Complexion: Dark; Occupation: Farmer. Present on roll 12/11/1862-12/31/1862. Absent from roll 1/1863-2/1863. On detached service at Knoxville, TN since 2/27/1863 by order approved by Brig. Gen. Graice. Present on roll 3/1863-12/1864. Took Oath of Allegiance 5/4/1865.
Buttrey, James F. E.—Cpl. Enlisted 11/5/1862. Present on roll12/11/1862-2/1863. Absent 3/1863-4/1863 at Lewis Springs in charge of sick and baggage by order of Brig. Gen. Graice. Present on roll 5/1863-8/1863. Promoted to Sgt. 7/1/1863. Present on roll 11/1863-12/1864. Paroled 4/28/1865. Took Oath of Allegiance 5/4/1865. Parole papers list as 6’1″ with blue/gray eyes.
Buttrey, James M.—Pvt. Enlisted on 11/5/1862 at Williamson County for 3 yrs or the war. Age at enlistment: 18. Born: Dickson County. Eyes: Blue; Hair: Dark; Complexion: Fair; Occupation: Farmer. Present on roll 12/11/1862-8/1863. Present on roll11/1863-8/1864. Admitted to Ocmulgee Hospital, Macon, GA on 10/15/1864. Returned to duty 11/19/1864.
Buttrey, W. G. W.—Pvt. Enlisted 11/5/1862 at Dickson County, Tenn. Present on roll 12/11/1862-2/1864. Died of chronic diarrhea 2/5/1864 in hospital at Covington, Georgia.
Buttrey, Wm G. D.—Enlisted 11/11/1862 at Dickson County, Tn. Mustered in 12/11/1862. Age at enlistment: 26. Born: Williamson County; Height: 5’10”; Hair: Fair; Eyes: Blue; Complexion: Light; Occupation: Farmer. Present on rolls 12/11/1862-2/1863. Absent from roll 3/1863-4/1863. Left at Cumberland Gap 3/29/1863 sick by order of W. E. Abraham, Chief Surgeon. Since sent to hospital at Knoxville. Absent from roll 5/1863-6-1863. Furloughed 6/18/1863 for 30 days by W. L. Hilliard, Surgeon Fair Grounds Hospital, Knoxville, Tenn. Absent from roll 7/1863-8/1863. Home on furlough in Mid-Tenn. Not heard from lately. Absent from roll 11/1863-12/1863. Absent from roll 1/1864-2/1864. Furloughed from Knoxville for 30 day on 6/15/1863. Having never since reported. Supposed to have deserted.
Cunningham, James F.—Cpl. Enlisted 11/9/1862 for the war. Mustered in 12/11/1862. Age at enlistment: 24. Born: Hickman County; Height: 5’8″; Hair: Fair; Eyes: Blue; Complexion: Light; Occupation: Shoemaker. Present on roll 1/1863-12/1864. Promoted to Ordinance Sgt. on 5/8/1863. Paroled 4/28/1865.
Edwards, Jesse B.—Enlisted 10/30/1862 for the war. Mustered in 12/11/1862. Age at enlistment: 18. Born: Dickson County; Height: 5’8″; Hair: Light; Eyes: Blue; Complexion: Fair; Occupation: Blacksmith. Present on roll 12/11/1862-2/1863. Absent from roll 3/1863-4/1863. Left sick at Cumberland Gap on 3/29/1863 by order of W. T. Abrahams, Chief Surgeon. Since sent to hospital at Knoxville. Present on roll5/1863-6/1863. Absent sick from roll 7/1863-8/1863. Sent to hospital at Knoxville on 7/11/1863. Present on roll 11/1863-8/1864. Absent from roll 11/1864-12/1864. Sent to General Hospital at Macon, GA on 10/9/1864 by Surgeon Murphy. Released from hospital 11/18/1864.
Forehand, John L.—Enlisted 12/8/1862 at Hickman County. Mustered in 12/11/1862. Age at enlistment: 25. Born: Davidson County; Height: 5’11”; Hair: Sandy; Eyes: Blue; Complexion: Fair; Occupation: Farmer. Present on roll 12/11/1862-12/1864. Promoted to Cpl. 12/12/1864. Paroled 4/28/1865. Took Oath of Allegiance on 5/4/1865.
Lampley, A. S.—Pvt. Co. A 1st TN Cav. Captured 3/16/1864 at Union City, TN. Received at Camp Chase 4/22/1864. from Cairo, Illinois. Died 12/9/1864 of smallpox at grave #585, 1/2 mile south of Camp Chase, Ohio.
Lampley, Anderson M.—Pvt. Co. D 11th Tn Cav. Enlisted 10/10/1862 at Murfreesboro. Received $100 for use of horse. Absent from roll 3/1863-6/20/1864-wounded. In hospital at Columbia. On retired list 6/15/1863. Reported to Greensboro, GA post as retired between 6/30/1863-10/31/1864. Listed on Invalid Corps 8/20/1864. Not stated if present on 1/1865-2/1865-Failed to have retired papers renewed after 6 months.
Lampley, Andrew J.—Enlisted 12/8/1862. Mustered in 12/11/1862. Age at enlistment: 18. Born: Dickson County. Height: 5’10”; Hair: Dark; Eyes: Blue; Complexion: Fair; Occupation: Farmer. Present on roll 12/11/1862-8/1863. Deserted near Knoxville 8/6/1863.
Lampley, Andrew—Enlisted 12/13/1862 for the war. Mustered in 12/11/1862. Present on roll 12/11/1862-8/1863. Deserted near Knoxville 8/6/1863.
Lampley, Radford T.—Enlisted on 11/9/1862 at Dickson County for the war. Mustered in 12/11/1862. Age at enlistment: 30. Born: Dickson County; Height 5’5″; Hair: Dark; Eyes: Blue; Complexion: Dark; Occupation: Farmer. Present on roll 12/11/1862-8/1863. Deserted near Knoxville 8/6/1863.
Lankford, Arter R.—Enlisted 12/4/1862 at Dickson County. Mustered in 12/11/1862. Age at enlistment: 25. Born: Dickson; Height: 6’0″; Hair: Light; Eyes: Blue; Complexion: Fair; Occupation: Farmer. Present on roll 12/11/1862-12/31/1862. Absent on roll 1/1863-2/1863. On detached duty in Dickson to depose of private horses since 1/20/1863 by order of Brig. Gen. Groves and reported sick. Present on roll 3/1863-4/1863. Promoted to Corp. Present on roll 5/1863-8/1863. Promoted to Sgt. Present 11/1863-12/1864. Paroled 4/28/1865. Took Oath of Allegiance 5/4/1865.
Lankford, Dilliard H.—Enlisted on 12/4/1862 at Dickson County. Mustered in 12/11/1862. Age at enlistment: 19. Born: Dickson; Height: 5’8″; Hair: Light; Eyes: Blue; Complexion: Fair; Occupation: Farmer. Present on roll 12/11/1862-12/1864. Paroled 4/28/1865. Took Oath of Allegiance 5/4/1865.
Lankford, Tilman P.—Enlisted 12/9/1862 at Dickson County. Mustered in 12/11/1862. Age at enlistment: 30. Born: Dickson; Hair: Dark; Eyes: Blue; Complexion: Fair; Occupation: Farmer. Present on roll 12/11/1862-12/1864. Paroled 4/28/1865. Took Oath of Allegiance 5/4/1865.
Lankford, William J.—Enlisted 12/5/1862 at Dickson County. Mustered in 12/11/1862. Age at enlistment: 21. Born: Dickson County; Height 5’10”; Hair: Dark; Eyes: Dark; Complexion: Dark; Occupation: Farmer. Present on roll 12/11/1862-8/1863. Promoted to Cpl. 7/1/1863. Deserted since muster and before payments.
Mangrum, J. W.—Enlisted Co. H 20th Tn Inf. on 5/28/1861 at Franklin, TN for 1 yr. Present on roll 7/28/1862-10/1862. Absent without leave 11/1862-2/1863. Absent 4/1863-5-1863-wounded. 5/1863-1/27/1864. Deserted 4/1863.
Mangrum, Jesse—Conscripted 10/6/1862. Wounded hand 1/2/1863 at Murfreesboro. Furloughed 1/12/1863 for 30 days at Atlanta, GA. Deserted 12/1/1864.
Mangrum, John C.—Enlisted 11/9/1862 at Dickson County. Mustered in 12/11/1862. Age at enlistment: 30. Born: Jefferson County, Tn. Height: 5’8″; Hair: Light; Eyes: Blue; Complexion: Dark; Occupation Farmer. Present on roll12/11/1862-6/1863. Deserted 6/1/1863 at Cumberland Gap. Captured 5/6/1863 at Richmond, Ky. Sent to Lexington, Ky. On roll as POW at Camp Chase, Ohio 6/13/1863. Departed 6/20/1863 for Johnson’s Island. Transferred to Point Lookout 10/30/1863. At Sandusky, Ohio on 11/4/1863. On roll as POW at Point Lookout 4/7/1864. Joined U.S. service 4/7/1864.
Mangrum, W. P.—Enlisted in Co. H 20th TN on 11/10/1862 at Franklin. Present on roll 9/1862-12/23/1862. Absent without leave 1/1863-2/1863. Present on roll 4/1863-6/1863. Deserted 7/13/1863.
Mangrum, Wesley—Enlisted in Co. H 20th TN Inf. on 9/20/1861 at Camp Buckner, Franklin, Tenn for 1 yr. Present on roll 2/28/1862-6/1863. Wounded arm 6/24/1863 at Hoover Gap, TN. Present on roll 7/1863-12/1863. Present at Dalton, GA on 1/27/1864. Present on roll 3/1864-10/1864.
Mangrum, William—Enlisted in Co. H 20th TN Inf. on 11/10/1862 at Franklin. Present on rol 9/1862-1/27/1864. Deserted 2/23/1864. Took Oath of Allegiance 2/26/1864. Height: 5’9″; Hair: Black; Eyes: Black; Complexion: Dark. Present at Dalton, GA on 1/27/1864.
Rice, David H.—2nd Lt. Co. C 11th Regt. Tenn. Vols. Enlisted on 5/25/1861 at Nashville for 1 yr. Age at enlistment: 25. Mustered in 8/15/1861. Present on roll 8/1861-4/30/1862. Promoted to 1st Lt. on 8/30/1861. Not stated if present on roll 7/1862-10/1862. Absent sick since 10/27/1862 on roll 11/1/1862 at Bean’s Station. Present on roll11/1862-2/1863. Deserted 2/7/1863.
Sullivan, Wm.—Enlisted 12/15/1862 at Dickson County. Mustered in 12/11/1862. Present on roll 12/11/1862-2/1863. Absent 3/1863-4/1863–Detailed 4/29/1863 to go to Strawberry Plains for sick and baggage by order of Capt. Baxter. Present on roll 5/1863-6/1863–Detailed on extra duty as a teamster 5/1/1863. Present on roll 7/1863-8/1863–Permanently detailed as teamster. Present on roll 11/1863-8/1864. Absent on roll 11/1864-12/1864. Sent to Gen. Hospital at Macon, GA on 10/19/1864 by Asst. Surgeon Beauchamp. Paroled 4/28/1865. Oath of Allegiance taken 5/4/1865. Height: 5’8″; Hair: Brown; Eyes: Gray; Complexion: Dark. Resides in Dickson.
Tidwell, Aquilla—Enlisted 12/23/1862 at Maury Co. Reported to Company 1/26/1863. Residence: Dickson, County. Height: 5’10”; Hair: Sandy; Eyes: Gray. Present on roll 1/186312/1864. Paroled 4/28/1865. Took Oath of Allegiance on 5/4/1865.
Tidwell, Benjamin—Pvt. Enlisted in Thedford’s Co. 11th Tn Infantry. Age at enlistment: 20. Mustered in 5-25-61 at Nashville for a period of 12 months. Present on rolls 8/1/1861-2/1863. Roll dated 5/1/1863 at Shelbyville, Tn lists Benjamin as having died on 4/16/1863. Letter from Lumpkin Hospital, Rome, Georgia:
I certify that Corpl B. Tidwell of Co. H 11th Tenn Regt. Volunteers died at the Lumpkin Hospital Rome GA on the 10th day of April of (remainder of line is illegible). Inventory of effects

  • Cash six + 65/100 dollars
  • 1 overcoat
  • 1 dress coat
  • 1 pr pants
  • 1 pr drawers
  • 1 pr boots
  • 1 shirt
  • 1 day book
  • 1 pocket book
  • 1 blanket

Gill Rogers, Acting Surgeon
Lumpkin Hospital
Tidwell, E. M.—Pvt. Capt. F. F. Tidwell’s Co. 11th Regt. Tenn Vols. Age at enlistment: 30. Enrolled on 12/12/1862 at Dickson County by Capt. Tidwell for 3 yrs. Present on rolls 11/1862-2-1863. Roll dated 5/1/1863 lists E. M. as died at Cheatham’s Div. Hospital on 3/16/1863.
Tidwell, Fulton F.—1st Lt. Thedford’s Co. 11th Tenn Vols. Age at enlistment: 21. Enrolled on 5/25/1861 at Nashville for 1 yr. Muster in roll dated 8/16/1861. Present on roll 8/1861-4/30/1862. Promoted to Captain 5/1/1862. Present on rolls at Cumberland Ford, Ky 9/1861-10/1861. Absent with leave from Cumberland Ford, Ky on roll dated 11/1861. Joined command for duty on 12/8/1861. Present on roll at Cumberland Ford, Ky 1/1862. Present 7/1862-8/1862. Roll dated 11/30/1862 for 9/1862-10/1862 does not state if he was present. Recapitulation shows absent with leave Present on roll 11/1862-12/1862 Slightly wounded in neck at Battle of Murfreesboro. Present on roll 1/1863-4/1863. Present on roll dated 5/1/1863 at Shelbyville, Tn. Present on rolls 7/1863-2/1864. Absent sick on roll 7/8/1864. Listed wounded on 7/9/1864 on inspection report at Atlanta. Present on roll at Jonesboro 9/17/1864. Paroled at Greensboro, NC 5/30/1865.
Tidwell, Hickman C.—Pvt. Enlisted in Co. E 11th Regt. Tn Vols. Age at enlistment: 17. Enrolled on 5/18/1861 for 1 yr. Present on roll 8/16/1861 at __________ Bridge, Tenn. Not stated if present on roll 8/1861-10/1861. Regimental return 9/1861 shows on sick furlough since 7/16/1861. Present on roll 3/1862-4/1862. Transferred 5/1/1862 to Co. K at Cumberland Gap. Present on extra duty 7/1/1862-8/31/1862. Present on roll 9/1862-12/1862 on extra duty as herdsman since 7/1/1862. Present on roll 1/1863-4/1863 on extra duty as an orderly for Col. Thedford since 2/1/1863. Present on roll 5/6/1863 at Shelbyville. Present on roll 7/1863-2/1864 acting orderly for Col. Thedford since 2/1/1863.
Tidwell, John H.—Enlisted 12/15/1862 at Dickson. Present on roll 12/11/1862-8/1863. Deserted since muster and before payments.
Tidwell, Josiah—Brevet 2nd Lt. F. F. Tidwell’s Co. Age at enlistment: 23. Resigned 7/1861. Present on roll 5/1/1863 at Shelbyville, TN.
Tidwell, Silas—Pvt. Enlisted in Capt. Thedford’s Co. 11th Regt., Tenn Vols on 8/10/1861. Age at enlistment: 20. Mustered in 8/15/1861. Present on roll 8/1861-4/1862. Present on roll 7/1862-4/1863. Present on roll 5/1/1863 at Shelbyville, TN. Present on roll 7/1863-12/1863. Present on roll 1/1864-2-1864. KIA since last muster roll taken.
Tidwell, Solomon—Enlisted 11/9/1862 at Dickson County. Mustered in 12/11/1862. Age at enlistment: 18. Born: Dickson County, Tenn. Height: 5’7″; Hair: Light; Eyes: Dark; Complexion : Fair; Occupation: Farmer. Present on roll 12/11/1862-12/31/1862. Absent on roll 1/1863-2/1863-On detached service service at Knoxville since 2/15/1863 to forage horses by order of Brig. Gen. Gracie. Present on roll 3/1863-12/1864. Paroled 4/29/1865. Took Oath of Allegiance 5/6/1865.
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Love is In the Air

Contributed by April Heath Pastis
Steve’s great aunt, who speaks in broken Greek-lish (a mixture of Greek and English), told me a lovely story about how her mother married her father when he “crashed” the wedding.
Back in 1880 in Greece, they still had arranged marriages and Sophia, Steves gg grandmother, had been promised to a man she did not want to marry.
A day before her wedding, Sophia’s brother’s happened to be arguing about it when this man overheard. He snuck over to where Sophia was and took a gander at the beautiful, but unwilling, bride to be. It was love at first site for him.
Through some diplomacy, he offered to pay the snubbed groom for a lossed “dowery” (the best word I can find to describe it), and then asked for Sophia’s hand. A frustrated father of the bride threw up his hands over the whole thing and gave his daughter freedom to make her own choice. Sophia decided to take a look herself and without hesitation completely agreed to this arrangement. (I don’t blame her, from the photograph I have seen, he looks exactly like Steve.)
They didn’t even reset the previously set marriage date. The cake, food, decorations were all the same, except the groom had changed! Apparently they were happy and in love throughout all their married life.
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Not From Middle Tennessee

The Truth about the “Trail of Tears”
by James E. Bradford
When Kathy and I moved to Knox County, Tennessee, in the Community of Concord, we very quickly found out that being from Middle Tennessee was not a thing that one talked about. It was hard for us to understand why there was so much hate and resentment for Middle Tennessee. They referred Middle Tennessee as the “Land of the Devil Worshipers” and to Andrew Jackson as “The Devil himself walking on earth”.
This was a group of English that was not part of the export migration into the United States. They came from England on their own. They built Fort Loudon, and set up a trading post with the Cherokee Indians. They build a Masonic Lodge and a Presbyterian Church, side by side. The first school in East Tennessee was in this old Lodge Building. (Note: This was before Tennessee became a state, but the area was called Tennessee). The Minister of the Church and his wife was the teachers. They had a daughter that never married and she was a teacher there after their death. They excepted Cherokee children in the school and it was in this old Lodge Building that Sequoia, the son of an English father and a Cherokee girl, learned to read and write English.
It was because of the love for the Cherokee people that brought all this hate and resentment for Middle Tennessee who supported the removal of the Cherokee people.
Most of the old people are now gone, and each generation that passes this hate and resentment becomes a little less.
Our history books tell us very little about the real truth of the Cherokee. The University of Tennessee, who has more information and history about the Cherokee than any place in the world. They are now offering a course in “The True History of The Cherokee”. It is not required, but many of the students are taking the courses and the true facts about the worst treatment of humans the world has ever known.
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Jimmy? Who Are You Talking to?

told by James Heath
(as told to April Heath Pastis)
After your mom and me got married we lived with mom’s mom for a short 
time in a house on Avenue A. We stayed up in the second floor and we 
didn’t have much furniture at all. In fact, I think we were using 
some lawn furniture for chairs. Anyway, Jimmy couldn’t have been more 
than two or three, he probably was two because I remember we borrowed 
your grandma’s rocking chair so Donna could rock the baby (Curtis). 
Jimmy was the best kid you could imagine, he’d make up his own games 
and keep himself occupied so that you barely knew he was there. He 
was always talking to himself, so I thought he had an imaginary 
friend like most kids do. One afternoon, I heard Jimmy talking to 
himself again. It wasn’t kid talk but sounded pretty adult, but he 
was always an old man, even at the age of two. I was feeling a little 
guilty that I didn’t spend more time with him and worried that 
imaginary friends were probably not healthy, so I walked into the 
bedroom. When I did, Jimmy fell silent.
“Jimmy? Who are you talking to?”
”That man,” Jimmy said and pointed at the rocking chair.
”Now, Jimmy. You are only pretending,” and I walked over to the 
chair. “There’s no one in this chair.” I said and reached my hand out 
to touch the back of the chair, but before I touched it, the rocking 
chair tilted back. It began rocking back and forth and I found myself 
backing away from the chair as I watched it rock back and forth. It 
started out slowly and then it began to rock furiously.
I stood next to Jimmy and I felt that something was sitting in that 
chair. It also did not like me. I felt as if it was going to say 
something, but it didn’t.
Instead, I felt it say “Get Out of My House.”
Well, I nearly shxx my pants. I grabbed Jimmy and got out of that 
room. The thing is, it didn’t seem to have anything against Jimmy. I 
felt it didn’t like me.
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The Dinner Guest

told by Donna Heath
(as told to April Heath Pastis)
I had the most beautiful dog when I was a kid. It was part Pekinese and part Terrier. It was golden with long, soft beautiful hair. I called her Pug, even though I didn’t know anything about Pugs then, but because she had a flat nose that was more like a Pug than even
some of the Pugs I’ve had since. One night, we were all at the dinner table. Which wasn’t usual cause my brother Tevis was usually working or one of my sisters were out. During dinner, Pug used to sit as close to the table as she could hoping someone would drop a bit of
food and she’d nab it. We hadn’t been sitting down too long when Pug started barking. She ran over to the front door and barked and barked. She didn’t stop. Then she started backing up, barking the whole way. She backed up, right under the table and kept barking. I
watched her head and eyes move as if they were following the path of a person walking through the kitchen and start toward the hall. She followed the “person” who wasn’t there, barking all the way and chased “the person” we couldn’t see to the bottom of the stairs. She didn’t go up. She just stopped and kept barking.
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