the family connecton

The family connection is complex.........a bringing together of people under one system from a variety of sources. The history of our family is rooted in Ireland and Scotland, but it never connected until the movement to America.....and it is a strange story because the original families were neighbors in those lands (although somewhat distant from each other) and after migration were neighbors in this land in Western Virginia but never connected until several generations later in St. Albans,W.Va. when the Beans met the Jarrells.

The first history we have of the Beans began during the Revolutionary War when a MacBane from Scotland was serving in the occupational army of King George in America. After the war, the King refused to pay passage back to England for the defeated soldiers, so McBane settled in America. The name was shortened to Bean. His son William Bean, settled in Western Virginia.and the Bean family prospered in the area near Peters Mountain, not far from land settled by the Jarrells.

The first history we have of the Jarrells was of John Jarrell, who arrived from Ireland in 1654 and settled on Northumberland County, Virginia. During subsequent migrations the Jarrells moved westward and settled in Monroe County, W.Va., where Daniel Jarrell fathered a son John, who later moved to what in now Boone County, where he acquired 7,700 acres of prime land, rich in timber, coal and gas. He was a farmer, with five slaves, unaware of the value of his holdings. He gave his daughter, Julie Jarrell, 4,000 acres as a wedding gift when she married Dr. White. They had 12 children.

John Jarrell was the great grandfather of my father, Andrew Jackson Jarrell, who moved to St. Albans where he met and married my mother. Gladys Marie Davis, the daughter of Lulu Bean Davis.Mom's mother was the daughter of Augustus Bean, directly descended from the William Bean mentioned before. Now after many generations, the Beans and the Jarrells finally became connected by blood, brought together by a series of unlikely circumstances. No doubt, they were acquainted with each other in those early years, but the connection was not made for many years. Now we are family.

The scenario of the two families, having originated in Scotland and Ireland, and finally coming together in West Virginia, is poetic for me. I am pleased with the results. I married June Oxley in 1947 and we produced seven children. Our six surviving offspring are successful in respective careers and I am very proud of our family. It stands today as a living monument to the struggles and efforts of our early ancestors.

happy fathers' day from the stealth blogger...

Guest commentary from one of the bfjarrell offspring:
Slipping in on the sly to post some words of love for my dear ol' dad... I've thought about you many times today, Dad - wondering if you were getting proper attention from all of us. These "fathers' day" and "mothers' day" Hallmark holidays are odd ducks... on the one hand it's silly to have a holiday that seems to have been custom-made for selling cards and brunches and flowers, but on the other it's a little bit sad that it's that very thing that spurs us to reach out and exercise this connection that has existed from the moment we (us kids, anyway) were born.

We get so caught up in the everydayness of our lives that we have to be reminded that we should be talking to the people we love. I mean, we know we have this connection, right...?

I'm thinking I've let the connection gather too much dust. Why on earth should we be content to have a classic car that seldom leaves the garage...? Open the doors, I say - put the pedal to the metal and take that baby out for a spin! So happy fathers' day, my father. I just stopped by to tell you that I love you and I'm glad today and every day that you are my dad. I'll talk to you again soon...

OOYFD (One Of Your Favorite Daughters)

when coal was king

When I was a kid, just about  everybody used coal to heat the house and cook. The row houses in every coal mining town had a pile of coal in the front yard. Coal was plentiful and cheap. Industry used coal to fire the furnaces which produced electric power, and the railroads used  coal to drive the huge engines along the C & O tracks located a few yards from our house. The black smoke belching from the coal trains smothered us with soot, leaving the clothes mom hung on the line with a pepper like finish.

 

We had a fireplace which dad kept going during the winter months. In the evening before going to bed, he would bank the hot coals with ashes in order to maintain a smoldering fire throughout the night....then kick it alive in the cold morning hours with a poker and a fresh supply of the black fuel. Such was our life during the great depression. Even though coal was cheap, we were pressed to keep the fire going when money was so scarce. My older brother and I would often walk along the railroad tracks gathering coal which fell off the overladened trains that went by with regularity. We would carry an old burlap bag and fill it with the dregs of commerce. Sometimes the pickings were slim.

 

The hoboes riding on top of the coal were not much help, until my brother had an idea one day that paid off. He threw a rock at the riders and they responded by hurling lumps of coal back at us. We collected the ransom as the train rolled out of sight, and repeated the assault whenever more coal was needed.  Dad finally started making enough money as a carpenter so our career as train robbers came to a close.  We were young then and did not consider our actions illegal...and maybe they weren't.....but I would like to make amends, I would feel better if I could repay the coal company for our rash conduct. At the price of coal those days, I figure we own $35.43. Now if I just knew who to send it to..............