More Brown History

Now as an adult I see them in the market at $28.00 a pound and realize that I should have eaten them as a child. Ah, hindsight!

Grandma and grandpa Brown, around 1940

I’ve accomplished quite a lot doing genealogy research. I can’t find much about the Brown side of the family.  I can’t get past great-grandfather Brown being born in North Carolina in 1832. Trying to find information on John Brown in an area filled with Browns is not the easiest thing to accomplish.

His wife, my great-grandmother is another story. I can go back as far as 1767 when my great-great-great grandfather immigrated from Ireland.  He fought in the Revolutionary War wit

h Colonel Lock’s NC Regiment.  He is buried with a Revolutionary War grave marker.

He and his family settled in the hills of Pike County, Kentucky. I like to think that they were Moon-shiners.  It makes for a fun story.  When I found the Gannon Family Cemetery in Pike County, Kentucky, I was thrilled. It is located on coal mine property and I had to get permission to visit.  The cemetery is located near Bent Branch and Meat Hook, Kentucky. I’ve been able to read and identify 77 grave stones and have re-engraved my great-great grandparents stones. They should be readable for another 50 years.

My father had been born in the house where I lived until I was five and we moved to Denver.  My father was the third of six children.  They lived in a three-room house with an outhouse.  They raised chickens and had their own garden.

Dad claimed that he had a great childhood.  His mother was filled with love and she was free with showing it. He loved and enjoyed his siblings. They all remained close until the end.

His aunts, uncles and cousins were all within walking distance and they all shared close bonds and memories. In hindsight, I’m sorry I didn’t pay more attention to the stories when I was younger. I don’t remember meeting many from that generation. I guess I was just to young.

The Brown family home, Daisy, Grandma Brown, dad, 1908

I can’t imagine living with eight people in a three-room house.

My father was born in 1905, the third child of my grandparents.  I understand that his childhood was fraught with the embarrassment of being the child of the town drunk.  His mother held the family together doing laundry and watching other children.

Dad was one of four boys and two girls.  During the early 1900s in a small town, life revolved around doing chores, going to school and playing.  Dad and his brothers were typical “boys.”  They ran everywhere, played baseball and stickball.  They collected eggs in the hen house every day, worked in the garden, and when they got old enough they slaughtered and plucked the chickens for dinner.  My grandfather took the boys hunting where they would shoot squirrels, rabbit, quail, pheasant and anything else they could eat.

Dad graduated from high school in 1923.  He and a younger brother traveled around the area playing baseball for a few years.  They were both pretty good players. I guess they even got close to being picked up by the St. Louis baseball team.