_____________________________________________________________________________
 
 Williams Family
 August 1994
 
It's difficult to say just when the illustrious Williams family
entered the backwoods of Baker County and settled in the Taylor section
along the banks of the Little St. Mary's River. However, many aspects of
their history exist, detailing how this family contributed to the growth of
our country, state and county. Today, in 1995, thousands of descendants
faithfully hold an annual reunion each April in honor of their forerunners,
and meet to honor and express gratitude to those in the family who have
passed down a recorded treasure of priceless sketches of their ancestors'
history.
 
According to family research penned in the historical accounts of
family member J.E. "Eddie" Kelly in The Williamses of Baker County, Jocham
Williams was born about 1814 in Bryant County, Georgia, near Penbroke.
Kelly said Jocham, whose given name is John Daniel, settled along the north
prong of the little St. Mary's River with his parents, William and Sarah
Williams, at an early age.
 
The Williams family and their thousands of collateral lines can be
forever indebted to the late Folks Huxford of Homerville, Georgia, for
gathering up and publishing much of the family genealogy and lineage.
Researchers of the Baker County Williams clan can consult Huxford's Volumes
IV and VII to trace the first-known clan member, William Williams, and his
son, Samuel, born 1759 in Dublin County, N.C.
 
Samuel owned 250 acres of land there with a water-mill. Samuel's
widow, Deliah Nevill, drew land as the widow of the Revolutionary soldier
in the 1827 land lottery because Samuel was an ensign in the Effingham
County, Georgia, militia from 1793-96.
 
From Samuel and "Dilly's" union, nine children were born. Their fourth
child, William, was said to have been born in 1790 in South Carolina while
his parents were en route to Georgia. He married Sarah Harvey on March 4,
1813 and moved from Bulloch County, Georgia, to Columbia County, Florida.
His older brother, John F., who married Sarah Stanford on August 10, 1813,
moved with them.
 
William was a captain in the Indian War in 1839. He and Sarah -- born
in 1796 in Bryant County, Georgia, the daughter of Richard Harvey, a
Revolutionary soldier -- had at least eight known children.
 
When William moved his family to what was then Columbia County in
1832, he settled in the portion cut off into New River, later changed to
Baker County. Another, besides his brother John, who moved with him from
Bulloch and Bryan Counties, Georgia, was his wife's brother, John Harvey.
William served several enlistments in the Florida militia. He was also
justice of Peace in Columbia County in the 1840s before his homestead land
was cut into Baker. He died at his Baker County home about 1860, followed
in a few years by his wife, Sarah.
 
Their first son, John Daniel, known to everyone as Jocham, first
married Rebecca (Becky), daughter of Abner W. and Rebecca Sweat Harvey.
They were the parents of twelve known children. Jocham's second wife was
Georgia Ann, widow of Malachi Anderson, and together they were the parents
of nine known children, all identified with personal sketches in Kelly's
The Williamses of Baker County.
 
Today, when one rides out north of Sanderson on CR 229 approximately
ten miles to East Tower Forest Road 202, a prominent sign with an arrow to
the right announces the Williams Family Cemetery. Turning right onto 202,
one travels about a mile and a half to Forest Road 204 that intersects with
202 from the right. Just to the left is a car trail that leads one to the
tranquil banks of the Little St. Mary's River and to the secluded spot of
land the pioneering Williams' family once called home. Nearby is the lone
resting place of Jocham, said to be, at his request, near his favorite
fishing hole. A Confederate flag ripples slightly as a delicate breeze
touches it in the hot August sun. it expresses dignity and lends vivid
color against the lone grave nestled in the somber cemetery inclosure, and
casts its honorable glory in dancing shadows on Jocham's modest grave. This
place is hallowed and sacred to a proud Williams clan.
 
Before the Williams family, there were primitive Indian tribes that
inhabited the area by the white sandy shoreline of this serene and peaceful
river. Their consecrated burial mound is prominently visible today, only a
few feet away from the tranquil river's south bank. A modern sign, erected
by the United States Government, states: "Enjoy, but do not destroy your
American Heritage". The sign clearly notes that if you dig on this spot you
will be fined $2,000. The site is now listed on the national register of
historical places and is protected by the U S. Government.
 
The mound was once plowed over by the pioneering Williams family, who
reported large bones that churned up in the plow's wake. Today the mound is
still recognizable and still covers the remains of centuries-old American
natives who once established their homes and reared their families along
the banks of this enchanting river which served as nature's highway in a
primitive era. Stately old spreading oaks, rustling in the breeze and
casting ghostly images between tall towering pines, and the river's swift
churning cool tea- colored water seem to whisper, "if I could talk, I'd
tell you all, for you would then know the past legacy of this forsaken and
desolate land that once held the proud traditions of people who lived and
died here with their stories."
 
Just why the Williams family selected this particular spot of ground
to homestead is a question to be pondered. They found neighbors already in
this northern end settled around the tiny village which now bears the title
of prominent settlers named Taylor. Far to the east and south was another
settlement named Darbyville, later changed to Macclenny. The bustling
settlement of Sanderson to their south was the hub of Baker County business
and eventually designated as the county seat until the court house burned
and it was moved to Macclenny. Olustee would become renowned for Florida's
only Civil War Battle, one Jocham and other family members would
participate in and shed their blood.
 
Upon the Williams' arrival, the heavily-wooded land had to be cleared
for plowing crops, as food was their top priority. it was a strenuous job
that built men's muscles to extraordinary strength. If they were prominent
enough, they owned and used ox and mule teams. If they were fortunate,
neighbors would join them in a log rolling. Anything was appreciated to
help clear the land for planting, which meant survival. Trees were cut down
and prepared by peeling, drying and seasoning into sturdy logs for their
first crude homes. if time permitted, good neighbors came to assist in a
home-raising, helping to build new homes or barns when needed.
 
Most dwellings during this era had large open fireplaces at the base
of a clay chimney large enough to hold a long log or stump for warming
throughout the night in fiercely wintry seasons. Fireplaces were also used
to cook meals in until wood stoves could be purchased.
 
Families gathered around them to talk, and bond, and to keep warm.
Nights were tranquil and quiet with only the sounds of the singing male
crickets and croaking river frogs lulling the family to a peaceful and
restful sleep. In the far distance, one could often hear the cries of
panthers and wildcats wooing in the moonlight. Candies lit the scantily
furnished homes, or perhaps, if the family was lucky, they owned a kerosene
lamp. The occupants were quickly alerted to any sign of someone coming down
the road or approaching the house by a barking dog or grunting hogs.
 
When the family awoke each morning, it was usually to the far-off
sounds of cock-a- doodle-doo from the ever-present barnyard roosters. Soon
the fragrant smell of freshly ground coffee, the aroma of crisp fried
bacon, country ham or homemade sausage being fried to go with hen-house
fresh farm eggs and hominy grits filled the air. Off in the distance one
could often hear the hew and haws of other farmers getting started with
their mules and oxen in the fields for the day's work. Familiar daily
sounds on the farm were the mooing of cows being milked at day break and
the laying hens cackling proudly.
 
About noontime, the echo of bugle horns or conch shells, or a tower
bell fastened to a limb of a tree, could be heard summoning workers home
from their field of labor to a big lunch of freshly cooked vegetables
seasoned with fat-back and large slices of home smoked ham. Then they would
usually "rest a spell," sprawled lazily on the front or back porch, before
returning to the hot sweltering turf.
 
Smaller children would draw cool water from the well and take to the
fields where those working would declare as they drank from the old gourd
ladle used for a dipper that "it was the best and most refreshing water in
the world."
 
After chores at night, the children would sit around the fire place in
winter, or on the front porch in summer, with their parents and savor
thrilling stories. The kind the girls liked best started off with "Once
upon a time" and ended up with "Thus, they got married and lived happily
ever after." And, of course, there was always the famous hunting story that
left the little boys in the family electrified.
 
Ofttimes on week-ends, fiddles were brought out and farm families
would gather at one another's homes to dance and sing. "Grab your partner
and promenade," said the square dance caller and soon the strains of
everyone chanting "You get a line and I'll get a pole, Honey, you get a
line and I'll get a pole, Baby. You get a line and I'll get a pole and we
will make them mud cats roll ... Honey, babe, 0 Baby mine." And always
there were the strains of "Turkey in the Straw" and "Li'l Liza Jane."
Sometimes, the young man would take his partner 'round to the back of the
house, near the watershelf, for a private romance chat or courtship where
many a proposal has been made or a kiss stolen.
 
Descendants of the Williams family remember that those were the days
of Lila, Annie and Pearl Taylor, Sophie, Emmie and Nova Dowling, the Rhoden
girls, Minnie, Maude, Edna and Ola Williams, Minnie Kelly, Verdie, Lizzie
and Hattie Dowling, Pattie Crews, Curtis, Lascham, and Auzzie Dowling,
Sylvester Taylor, and the Crews bothers.
 
After the party was over, it is said one could hear for miles as the
horses galloped away down the road and the wagons rattled over the hills as
families returned home while the moon went down behind the tall pines.
 
The swimming hole, also called wash hole, was where families sometimes
bathed, unless it was in big tubs they filled with water from the well or
pump. Children splashed happily in the river's refreshing water dashing
carefree and gay between gleaming white encroaching sandbars.
 
Most men chewed tobacco and women "dipped" Three Thistles, Sweet
Scotch or Railroad Mills snuff with the greatest of pleasure.
 
At the age of 87, Lee Ernest Williams is one of the few descendants in
1994 who is alive to talk about the Williams family legacy with any degree
of personal experience. Presently living in the Wells Nursing Facility in
north Macclenny, the son of General Jackson Williams, oldest son of Jocham,
admits he has forgotten much of those days of long ago. Born November 10,
1906, he never met his famous grandfather Jocham, who died in 1896.
 
"My father, General Jackson Williams, was about half-Indian, and he
looked it too," he said. "He stood about 5 feet 10 inches, and was a man of
dark complexion and dark black hair."
 
Ernest was born on the old Bank Place about 12 miles north of
Sanderson. His mother, pretty and dark-haired, was a big woman -- "stout
and tall," said Ernest. She and General were the parents of 12 children,
and Ernest and his sister, Lou Vernie, were the couple's only set of twins.
They arrived in the family's two-room farm home along with Sidney Samuel,
Hardy, Eddie, Alvia, Linnie, Alta, Martha, Rosa, and Maidie. An infant son,
William, died earlier.
 
"I remember I used to follow behind my daddy and say, 'Daddy, I want a
chew of tobacco. Everywhere I'd go, I'd follow behind him saying that, and
once in a while he'd give me a piece, but I don't use that stuff now," he
said.
 
When he was about 14 years old, his father obtained work in Miami and
the family moved there and worked in a floral nursery.
 
"I remember some mighty powerful storms when we lived there," he said.
"Mama and daddy tied all of us together with a sheet so we wouldn't blow
away. As it was the house blew over to one side, but we all stayed
together." he said.
 
Ernest remembers how the family hunted with bows and arrows. "We made
our own, and used sling shots as well. We'd tie a string on the arrow to
shoot the fish and just pull them right up out of the clear river water,"
he noted.
 
Ernest's faithful visitor in the nursing home is his sister Rosa's
boy, Lewis. Rosie married Guilford Davis and the couple reared their family
of twelve children north of Sanderson. Lewis, who lives in Macclenny,
remembers the days of the early Williams family well.
 
"I was born on the old Bowman place, not far from Dinkins church," he
said. "We moved around a few times, but mostly my father farmed and
sharecropped."
 
"The place I lived the longest was an old log house and we slept on
either a feather mattress or one we made from the moss we found in the
woods," he said. "We didn't have an outhouse and had to use the creeks and
woods. Mostly we used the creek. They tied a string out there and the girls
went one way and the boys the other. We didn't have no toilet paper, they
didn't make it back then, so we used what ever we could find that was soft
-- rags, leaves, moss or corncobs," he said.
 
Lewis' first cousin, Horace Jackson "Curley" Williams, remembers those
days well. Horace's father, Sidney, was the oldest child of General Jackson
Williams and Elizabeth (Davis) Williams. Lewis' mother, Rosa, and Sidney
were brother and sister.
 
Commenting on the days before the outhouse or privy, as some people of
that day called it, he said, "We used red corn cobs first, and then the
white, that way we made sure we were clean," he laughed.
 
Horace was one of 15 children born to Sidney Samuel and Eva Marion
(Sauls) Williams. "Them that had 15 children done that instead of cleaning
the hominy pots," quipped Lewis.
 
Besides Horace, Sidney and Eva were the parents of Harley Adrian,
William Kenneth, Sidney Samuel, Jr., Walter Bryan, Edward Clarence, John
Harold, Nina Marie (Smith), Edith Marian (Wilcox), Doris Alethia
(Stormant), and Elizabeth Pearl (Stormant).Two unidentified infants and
Lila Jane died early.
 
"My father, who was born in Baker County, told me many stories about
his life with Grandpa Jocham," said Horace, who was reared in a modest log
home in Columbia County.
 
"It wasn't sealed," he said. "The boys slept in the loft and in the
winter we used lots of warm blankets on our feather beds and the summers
were naturally airconditioned. We were seldom sick and we ran the woods
barefooted day and night, never afraid of any kind of animal and with so
many rattlesnakes in the woods we never saw one that I remember. Maybe we'd
see one at the edge of the field occasionally, but never in the woods. It
was a joyful time and lots of memories, like the time my brothers and I
were hunting and thought we had trapped an opossum in a gopher hole, but
when we sicked the dogs onto it, it turned out to be a skunk, and naturally
we all got sprayed. We were sorta outcast in the family until we could get
the stink off.
 
"I was out in the woods once with my brother, Harley, and his friend,
Jack Kerce, gathering lightered wood for the fireplace and they gave me a
chew of tobacco. I was under five years old and the tobacco made me very
sick. I never took another chew of tobacco in my life," he said.
 
"My father was a great hunter, more-so than a great farmer, and I have
so many wonderful memories of those hunting occasions I shared with him.
We'd be in the fields plowing and a little sprinkle would come and dad
would say, 'Boys, it's too wet to plow,' so we would all leave the fields
and go to the house. Then, dad would say, 'Boys, there should be some
rabbits out in those woods, so let's get the guns and go shoot rabbits'.
That's how we got meat for supper many times. If it hadn't been for wild
game like squirrels, fish, etc., our meals would have been meatless many
times. My father, Sidney, was one of the best shots in the country and I
wouldn't doubt the world if he could have ever gone into competition.
 
"We'd go quail hunting in the morning and dad would send me home with
a big bag full by noon. Then dad would stay in the woods and come in at
night with another big bag full. A lot of people would furnish him with the
gun shells and he would sell his game. That brought us in some money for
our family. We'd hunt gator and feed the tails to the dogs and we'd hunt
coons for them, too. That's the way we'd have of feeding our dogs," he
said.
 
Horace, given the nickname "Curley" during the years he worked for the
Civilian Conservation Corps, better known as the CCC Camp, values his
heritage with tremendous gusto.
 
.Those were not easy times, but the more I remember about those days,
and the more I learn about my ancestors, the more I appreciate them and
those times," he said.
 
He left behind the log cabin home he shared with his parents and
brothers and sisters when he graduated in a class of 13 from high school in
Mason, a small community south of Lake City in 1940. He took treasured
memories with him and they are still indelibly printed in his mind.
 
"In those days, a doctor would make house calls for most any reason,
and I still thrill at the sounds I recall of a new baby being born.
 
And the conversation between the old country doctor and my mother
still ring from that old log cabin, as me and my brothers lay in our beds
in another room.
 
"And I shiver to think how we did what we called cooning fish from
beneath old logs when the water in the river was low. We would reach our
hands down in those holes to catch us a mess of fish and today how the
thought terrifies me to think how we could have gotten a hold of a
moccasin, or snapping turtle. Memories flood my mind of hog killing days,
and how good those chittlin's used to be my mama cooked, and how my mama
would take a big stick to beat the dirt out of our clothes before washing
them in a big wash pot in the yards. When people ask me if we had running
water in our home when I grew up, I say, 'Why, of course we had running
water; my mother would say, 'Horace, run to the well and get me some water,
and run right back,' so we did have running water, and the old saying,
'Water Jack, you ought'er been there and half way back' was a common adage.
 
"I well remember my first pair of shoes mama bought from a neighbor
because when their order from Sears Roebuck arrived they were too small for
our neighbor's child. I had to pack them away in a trunk until mama could
get a pair of shoes for my sister. It didn't hurt us to go around
barefooted."
 
His work with the CCC began on July 5, 1940, took him as far as
California, and when he-returned to Florida, he found work at the shipyards
during the war. He returned to Jacksonville long enough to find the perfect
mate while attending church. He married Inez Parker, who he declares is the
best cook in the "whole wide world." They became the parents of one son,
Jack, and two daughters, Rene and Kathleen, who blessed them with
grandchildren, Doug, Jennifer, Derek, Craig, and, thus far, one
great-granddaughter named Sarah.
 
"She's a little princess," he says with great pride.
 
Horace retired in 1986 after 42 years as a switchman and conductor for
the Seaboard Railroad, which eventually, through the years, went through
several name changes. He and Inez have travelled through each of the 50
states except for Hawaii and that's because Inez is afraid to fly.
 
Destiny has taken him to many places throughout the world in his work
as a minister of the gospel. In addition to his work with the railroad, he
was pastor of a church he built in Jacksonville, the Hillcrest Church of
God. That responsibility took him to Africa and a visit to nine countries.
Now, all of those memories and experiences are carefully documented for his
posterity in his personal diary.
 
Today, he is continually seeking to know more of his ancestors. He is
active in the Williams family reunion, held annually in the Taylor section
of Baker County. He values the memories he shares with family members and
especially enjoys meeting with his surviving uncle and cousins.
 
As they gather in the nursing home to share family stories with their
lone surviving uncle, Ernest, Lewis and Horace recall such stories as the
one when their grandfather, General, journeyed to Lake City to buy a new
Ford.
 
"He paid $688 for it and said the man told him he'd had a real good
year, he sold three cars," said Lewis. He remembers that his grandfather
was also a convention-singing school teacher. In those days people who
loved to harmonize together attended conventions held mostly at local
churches. People came from all around to attend."
 
Lewis, born in 1918, completed the tenth grade at Sanderson. "My first
job was on the Glen St. Mary Nursery and I was paid 12 1/2 cents an hour
for hard labor," he said. He eventually worked many years as a mechanic for
Firestone before retiring.
 
"Back in those days, I remember the school principal, Will Cragg,
boarded with us and had to walk the three miles to school. They paid him
$15 a month, and the woman teacher made $12.50," he said.
 
"I remember that when we wanted to go get a drink of water during
class we held up one finger, and if we needed to go to the outhouse we held
up two," he said.
 
"And if you got a whipping at school, watch out, you'd get another
when you got home. That's just the way it was back then," he said.
 
"When I wasn't in school, I was plowing. I remember being behind the
plow as early as four and a half years old. My head didn't reach the top of
it and when the plow hit a root, the handle would hit me side of the head,"
he said.
 
"My parents were very strict, they didn't put up with nonsense or
disrespect, and would beat you with limbs off a tree or a gallberry bush.
If they told you to do something you'd just better do it," he continued.
 
"I picked the banjo at lots of frolics back then, and that's where I
met my wife," he said. Lewis married Sarah Lee Fish and they became the
parents of seven children: Noah, Ernestine (Griffin), Russell, Leonard,
Cecil Guilford, Walter and Sarah Lee.
 
"They were delivered by Grace Barton, who was a midwife, and I paid
her $ 15 a piece," he said.
 
"Back in them days, people had lots of fights. They didn't have
respect for each other and they'd kill you," he said. "I think they are a
lot more educated now than they were in those days and you don't hear of as
many murders. They'd get something against you and so much hate until
they'd either fight you or kill you over trivial things. Them were violent
days.
 
"My daddy, Guilford Davis, was a strong man with huge muscular arms,
and I can tell you, he loved to fight," he said. "When he was 65 years old,
he could hold on to something and posture his body out straight. He was a
real powerful man. I remember that he and Jack Davis had a coffin house
just north of Sanderson. They made lots of caskets for people," he said.
 
"Back then, people stayed up all night with the dead because in them
days they didn't have funeral homes. Some of those old farm houses didn't
have a door, and if they didn't guard the corpse the animals would come in
and gnaw on 'em. That's how the custom of staying up all night started,
someone had to guard off the animals," he said seriously.
 
Lewis declares that infant babies, if left while their mothers worked
in the fields, were in danger of snakes. "I've seen a many an infant with a
snake down it's throat. The snake would be trying to drink the milk. You
had to be careful about that."
 
Fires were dangerous too, he said. "I've been out there in the field
and seen houses on fire. Everyone would run to help put it out," he said.
 
"My grandpa General told me that Grandpa Jocham's first wife had a
wild cat jump on her and she killed it singlehandedly. People just don't
believe it when you tell them these things; I know my own children will say
they don't believe it. Well, they don't because they weren't there. I was
there and I know it's true."
 
Lewis Davis is a man of much humor. Discussing the most serious
subject, he can make you chuckle. And the way he tells his stories make you
wonder if it's true, or a joke.
 
He convincingly says all of his family stories are the truth.
 
Horace's most vivid memories are centered around hunting game in the
woods with his father and fishing with him in the river.
 
"My father was more of a hunter than a farmer," he said. "And he loved
to pass down the stories of Great Granddaddy Jocham, like the time Grandpa
Jocharn was hunting down by the creek bank with a double barreled shotgun.
He said he came upon a big rattlesnake, so he started to shoot the snake
and all of a sudden there was a bear on one side of him and a wild panther
on the other. He was really upset and didn't know which to shoot first, and
wondered what he should do. He figured he'd shoot the snake first, because
it was the closest to him, so he aimed and hoped the shot would scare off
the panther and bear, so he fired with both barrels and the gun flew apart
and the ram rod killed the snake and each barrel killed the bear and
panther, and the panther fell in the creek and came up with a boot filled
with fish."
 
Horace and Lewis are proud of their grandfather's action during the
Civil War.
 
"We've been told the stories by our fathers and grandfathers many
times," said Horace.
 
The two men remember the stories told to them by their fathers about
Jocham's experiences in the Battle of Olustee. "Jocham related the story to
Uncle Guilford Davis, who told it to me, of how 500 Federal soldiers got
caught in quicksand and disappeared," said Horace.
 
"Yeah, and the calvary lost horses and cannons, too," said Lewis.
 
They said it happened at Cone Head Branch, ofttimes called Coon Head
Branch.
 
John Daniel 'Jocham' Williams served in Company K, Second Regiment in
the Florida Cavalry. His tombstone reads that he died April 27, 1896 at the
age of 75 years. Research shows that Jocham's birth year could not have
been 1821 as etched on his monument, but instead, because of family
documents and records, it is estimated to be about 1812.
 
One can only imagine today how it must have been when the pioneering
Williams children ran free and barefoot down the sandy roads and lanes
listening to the whippoorwills announcing the first days of Spring. Off
they'd go, skipping through the woods shoeless, stopping occasionally to
dig up a white fluffy root called Indian bread. or taking home some wild
sassafras for mother to make a stimulating beverage from its root,
sweetened with homemade brown sugar, or to be used as a medicine when
needed for dispelling chills and fever, such as with measles. or they might
dig up a palmetto, remove the husk and eat the tender white bud, considered
a delicacy. Or when Uncle Roy Williams showed them how to find the "candy
stick" in the branch of the Tupelo gum. or gathering the "chewing paste" of
the hardened gum of the pine or sweet gum trees to make a very delectable
chewing gum. And, if the boys could get away with it, they would roll
homemade cigarettes from "rabbit" tobacco, a species of dried sumac that
grew in the woods.
 
How exciting the children must have found the starry nights as they
watched the twinkling lights illuminating the woods with the glowing
firefly or "lightning bugs." Or the thrill of finding the glow worms, eel
worms or earth worms for fish bait. And, just before sunset, watching the
dragonfly or mosquito hawk darting back and forth, breathlessly holding up
a finger and hoping one would light on it if they were very still and
quiet. All this and more, in the glory of that natural environment of
nature, they testify.
 
Then, of course, there were moments when the family had to fight the
circle of biting yellow flies while they were trying to catch an honest
mess of fish, or the mosquitoes that you hoped would be decoyed by the
bright light burning in the front yard from a wood pile.
 
And during dinner, when the table was laden with such things as peach
or pear cobbler, someone's job would be to swat the pesky flies with a
piece of paper or a homemade fly swatter.
 
As the Williams family saw the sun sink into the western horizon
beyond the tree tops they marveled at its mighty orb of light.
 
"We used to think that the moon was just a little ways up there and
that we could actually see the man in the moon smiling down on us, never
dreaming that someday a real man would actually step on that part of our
dreams," said the cousins of their experience.
 
Those were the days of tradition and superstition, they said, when
people believed that dreams had obvious meanings, as well as riddles,
puzzles, and fortune telling -- and that certain persons had power to put a
spell on you. It was the time when the belief in fairies, spooks and
haunted houses were real, when families had confidence in patent medicines
and that certain signs or occurrences were a true indication of that which
would surely come to pass.
 
Children were told that if they would walk backward to the well under
a clear sky at noon on the 22nd day of June, holding a mirror over their
head, they would surely see the image of the one they would marry reflected
on the water in the well.
 
Children were told that if they would break a wishbone or breastbone
from the fowl beneath a table and lay up the larger fragment expressing a
wish, that whatever they wished for would come to pass. It took two to
break the wishbone and the one getting the larger portion was the lucky one
to get his wish come true.
 
Parents were strict, and no, the majority of them didn't put up with
nonsense, they said. They didn't have time for it. Nevertheless, the love
that was generated among the early pioneering clans and the deep respect
the children held for their parents who did their best to feed and clothe
the family through the hardships they were to endure, is a blaze of
adoration in the hearts of those who can remember.
 
Those who can't remember, and who don't choose to believe the path
they trod, will never know the true wonder of all of it, the cousins agree.
 
"Those were peaceful times sitting around the fireplace with our
family, shelling peanuts or trying to warm ourselves by getting warm on one
side then turning to warm the other side. And oh, those old fashioned
peanut boilings. we'd get us a big old wash pot, fill it with peanuts and
water, and while the old folks would sit around and talk about their good
old times, the young folks would play games and sometimes some courtin'
would be going on. And the times when neighbors would get together and help
cut timber to clear a field for planting. It was called a log rolling, as
they rolled the logs out of the way so they could plow, or the wood sawings
when men would gather to saw enough wood to last several months. There
would always be a big meal fixed by the women and a dance afterwards for
entertainment."
 
Horace, the son of Sidney Samuel and grandson of General Jackson
Williams, the son of Jocham, says he can never pay enough tribute to his
mother, Eva Marion Sauls, born March 24, 1893 in Alachua County Florida.
The couple galloped away in a horse and buggy from Alachua County on
December 6, 1909 and got married.
 
"She bore 15 children and raised 12 to adulthood," he began. "She had
a hard life, and never had, until late in life, electricity to cook or wash
with. She would get up early before daybreak and cook breakfast for her
family, wash all the dishes, then go to the fields and help hoe corn or
peanuts until around eleven o'clock. Then she'd return to the house and fix
dinner for us. Now, they don't call it dinner in the middle of the day, but
I can't get used to calling it anything else.
 
Dinner was then at noontime, and supper at night. But when we had
eaten our dinner, and rested a little while, we'd go back to the field.
 
Mama would finish dinner, do the dishes, and then she'd come back to
the field and hoe again, unless it was wash day, but she was always busy.
And, doing all of this, my mother was one of the most happy and cheerful
persons I've ever known. I've heard her sing many times while she beat the
clothes on the block to remove the dirt, and while she rubbed them on the
washboard, or while she was at her sewing machine or anything else she
might be doing. She sang beautiful songs like 'Bringing in the Sheaves,'
'Jesus Loves Me,' 'The Victor's Song,' and 'Sweet Hour of Prayer.' She
seemed very happy and contented, and despite her hard life, I never heard
her complain. To me, she was the most precious lady that has ever lived.
 
"I think my mama could make the best biscuits in the world and after
we left home and would come back to visit, she would always have a jar of
fig preserves or something like that to eat with her hot biscuits. And how
my children loved her cinnamon rolls. They would beg to go to Grandmas to
eat them and her chicken and rice and sweet potatoes, all cooked on her
wood stove. Her cooking would put these modern cooks to shame because she
could take any food and make it come out so good. It's just a joy and
pleasure to remember the times when we'd sit around an old log table with
wooden benches and have a good meal and my mama was always so contented to
see her family well-fed and well-clothed. She had a rich full life and I
believe God has smiled upon her all of her life and I'm sure she has a
great reward. Even in the days of the Great Depression, we were like many
other people then, very poor, especially by today's standards, but we
didn't know we were poor until somebody told us. I can look back now and
even though we didn't have quite as much as some folks, my life was rich
and full and I wouldn't trade my life I had back there in the country and
the way I was brought up for anything in the world."
 
Horace Williams expresses the sentiments of countless other Williams
descendants who trek *annually to share a reunion and pay homage to the
heritage they cherish and celebrate. Each year they tread reverently to the
sacred and hallowed spot where their revered patriarch Jocham's eternal
resting place is peacefully nestled beneath the towering majestic oaks.
They come to meditate, to reminisce, and to rekindle their historic
beginnings with other kindred souls who prize their common bond.
 
They exhibit the greatest devotion as they amicably erect a city of
tents and set up camp, many wearing Civil War grays in honor of Jocham's
and other family members' brave record of patriotism. Assembling on this
overnight excursion, they will seek amid the ghostly land to pay homage to
the man they never knew personally, but whose memory they feel fortunate to
honor.
 
As the blackness of night descends upon the thick and sprawling
natural scrub oaks and spiralling tail pines, a rustling wind plays a
mystical tune jointly with the sedate sounds of the gentle swirls of the
placid St. Mary's River. It is the same soft echo of the tranquilizing
serenade heard centuries ago by those who occupied this celebrated expanse,
and tonight the staunch and loyal offspring will be lulled to an enchanting
night's sleep, mingled with the stimulating dreams of the history they are
honoring. Then, as dawn begins to cast the first rays of luminous sun light
flowing in golden streams upon the thick dew-shrouded woodlands, Jocham's
faithful posterity will rise to meet this novel day they set aside
annually, with unwavering convictions, to pay their respect and homage to
an era they revere.
 
In the quiet and sacred setting, a bugleman's stirring soft tones of
"Taps" will drift passionately throughout the sphere, mingling with the
mesmerizing sounds of the gentle tannic waters of the timeless old river,
lapping mildly at the shoreline, as it just keeps rolling along, carrying
with it centuries of obscure and unsung stories of connecting generations
and timeless immortal family traditions.
 
*Williams Family Reunion is held annually on 4th Saturday in April at the
Taylor Church in Taylor, Florida.

SOURCE
 
"Once Upon a Lifetime: in and Near Baker County, Florida," book - v.3 (file 3/3)
 
File contributed for use in USGenWeb Archives by La Viece Smallwood
(no email address), through Carl Mobley (cmobley@magicnet.net).
 
USGENWEB NOTICE: In keeping with our policy of providing free 
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***********************************************************************
 
 Once Upon A Lifetime Vol No. 3
 In Baker County, Florida
 
 By La Viece Moore-Fraser Smallwood
 Copyright 1995
 
 Copies available from the author complete with photos:
  Rt 2 Box 543 Macclenny, Florida 32063
 
Permission has been granted by the author for posting to this page.
 
Contains biographical narratives and genealogical information on the
following Baker County folks:
 
* Cincinnati Dicks Mobley (in file 1/3)
* Edgar Kirkland (in file 1/3)
* Annie Rhoden Combs (in file 1/3)
* Sippie Canaday Harris Hartenstine (in file 1/3)
* Josephine Kirkland Crawford Arnold (in file 2/3)
* Lorayne Rhoden & Lillian DuBose (in file 2/3)
* Mildred Wolfe (in file 2/3)
* Elva Combs Dinkins (in file 2/3)
* Nellie Hart (Day-Farris) (in file 2/3)
* Williams Family
* Brown, Raulerson Families
* The Historic Franklin Mercantile
* Acknowledgements