Legends

The one think that makes for a love/hate relationship when researching ancestors is a legend. Every family has legends that surface every time there is a reunion. Sometimes legends have more than one protagonist, several antagonists, and several sub-plots and plot twists.

One such legend that always surfaces among the Goffs is, "When the pilgrims were landing on the Mayflower, the Goffs were already here." This is probably true, but proving it is another matter. Since nobody has actually documented the parentage of my ggg-grandfather, Richard Goff, it is pretty hard to document how we get back to the Jamestown Settlement from here.

Another such legend is that of my gg-grandmother, Martha Webb. Martha was born to Willis and Margaret Webb (nee Stewart) in 1845. My great-grandfather, John "Spoony" Webb, was born in 1865. There are all sorts of tales about how Margaret Webb hid her children away inside of caves so that the Yankees wouldn't shoot her boys or rape her daughters. The east Tennessee hills must have been a horrible place during the war, particularly since the volunteer state was the first to fall to the Yankee juggernaut. However, legend has it that Martha was raped by a soldier boy of Cherokee descent who had worked for her father as a farm laborer prior to the war. After his treacherous deed, the boy went off to war, and did not return to make an honest woman out of Miss Martha. Consequently, the legend says that Martha willed herself to die after her son was born, leaving John "Spoony" to be reared by her parents.

Now, none of this story can be documented. Even though it is the story that has been told since 1865! We know the Civil War ended in 1865. John "Spoony" was born in May of that year. It is possible that his father went off to enlist. It is also possible that such a story was invented so as to disguise the promiscuity of Miss Martha. The only thing we can know for certain, is that Martha died and is interred in Carpenter's Cemetery outside of Glenmary, Tennessee, resting quietly next to her parents. Her tombstone displays only her name, Martha Webb, and the word "daughter."

Legends have no place in serious genealogy, unless, of course, they can be proven by documentation. Legends, however, are the very things that make family history exciting. They give poignancy to otherwise very ordinary existences. History is written by scolars while ordinary everyday people are making it every single day. We need the legends and the oral histories of our parents and grandparents, because we need to know the people who made the way for us. It would just be a whole lot better if they could be easily proven.

It Is Well With My Soul

Richard Goff (b. 1810)

Richard Goff was born in 1810 in Pulaski County, Kentucky. He married Nancy Pointer in Pulaski County, on March 25, 1831. Nancy's mother, Matilda Bradley Ping, put up the bond. This is the only record that's been found of Richard Goff's existence. There are several possibilities as to whom his parents might have been, but the stone that holds the Excalibur of knowledge has not yet been revealed.

Richard and Nancy had seven children, William Monty, Andrew Jackson, Alvin, Almira, Fountain, George and Matilda Frances. Records exist for all of Richard's children. Tax records, land records, births, marriages and deaths, all testify to the fact that Richard Goff's children were here. Andrew died in Missouri at the start of the War Between the States. George could have been a victim in an Agatha Christie novel; "George Goff disappears following the death of his wife. What happened to him? Is he alive? Is he dead?" Nevertheless, there is a record of George having been born, living and being wed. William married twice and spawned twelve children. His descendants are sprawled across the continent. Fountain also married, as did Almira, Alvin and Matilda. There are records proving they were here.

Richard (1810) is how this man is known among his descendants. We know he died in 1865, but we don't know where or how. We know this because of one reference in an old family Bible. We know that he and Nancy were buried side by side in a cemetery that no longer exists today. It was among many whose residents were disinterred by the Tennessee Valley Authority to make way for Lake Cumberland. Many of those were re- interred in other cemeteries, but we suspect that Richard was probably buried in a pine casket with no vault. There was likely no tombstone, and identification of remains from an unmarked grave would have been impossible in those days.

He was a son, a husband, a father, a grandfather, a great grandfather. He was loved, possibly hated. He was a farmer. Richard (1810) truly belongs to the ages, but he did exist.

West Texas Highway

The Launch

Belle

Rebecca Belle Dodson Grimes McCloud Cole, better known as Belle, was born May 15, 1889, and died March 25, 1986. Belle was my great-grandmother on my mother's side. By the time I came along, Belle was already an old 69 years, a hard fiery Cherokee woman with a heart as big as Oklahoma. This is her story.

Belle was born in White County, Tennessee, the first child of Emily Bowlin Dodson and the seventh child of Sam Dodson. Legend has it that Sam was 3/4 Cherokee, and judging by Belle's dark piercing eyes, high cheekbones and porcelain skin, there was probably an element of truth to it. Growing up poor on the plateau of the Cumberland Mountains, Belle's education was sparse. She did, however, finish grammar school, which at that time, was the sixth grade.

By the time she was 15, Belle was living in Oklahoma Indian Territory where Sam Dodson was running a boarding house. It was there, outside of Broken Bow, that she met the rogue and rounder, Lonnie Grimes. Being that it meant one less mouth to feed, Sam and Emily, gave their blessing to a marriage that sent Belle back to Tennessee.

In 1907, Belle boarded a train with her new husband and travelled to Whitwell, Tennessee. Lonnie Grimes was a player, however, and it didn't take long for Belle to figure out that he still had some running around to get out of his system. Lonnie travelled around by horse and carriage or by train, going from one depot to another, one poker game to another, and Belle had had enough. Belle used to say, "That Lonnie Grimes gambled away half of White County before he finally give it up."

Belle was hanging laundry outside on the clothes line, when one day, out of nowhere, her husband showed up at her gate. All set to ask for an annulment of her marriage, a storm blew up, and they went inside their little shack. Lonnie Grimes never left home again until he died of typhoid in February 1914.

Belle gave birth to her first child, Virgie Belle in 1910. Lena Mae came along in 1912. Lonnie Edward was born in June 1914, four months following the death of his father. Alone with no money, Belle boarded the train back to White County, where her mother, Emily, was now living. She moved in with Emily and set about doing odd jobs - ironing clothes, baking pies, cleaning houses - to make a little money. She married Casto McCloud sometime around 1918 and gave birth to Hubert in 1919.

Casto worked in the coal mines all along the Cumberland Plateau. He drank heavily and often took out his rage on Belle and her children. Belle and Casto divorced sometime around 1935. It was the height of the Great Depression, but for Belle, that would not have meant anything, because she had known no other way but dirt poor. In 1938, she met Elmer Cole, a widower with a six month old daugther. Belle and Elmer married, and Belle suddenly had another daughter, Rilda Dean.

Elmer Cole gave Belle the one thing in life she had never had, a peaceful home. Elmer was a quiet mountain of a man who worked in the coal mines. He moved his family to Crossville, Cumberland County, to a little asbestos shingled house on the outskirts of town.

I spent many summers at Grandma Belle's house in Tennessee. Her home is a series of snapshots in the my mind that I'll never lose. That little blue-green house had a front porch with a rocking chair. Out in front of the house was a little vegetable garden, to the side, chickens pecked the ground. A cornfield was in the back of the house and beyond that was the outhouse, a tiny building of aged pine, with three depositories. That outhouse stunk to high heaven, which is why it was so far away from the house!

Upon entering the front door, was the living room, small and painted an olive green. A long couch was against the front wall, while Elmer's brownish red vinyl recliner (usually with Elmer in it) was positioned immediately across from it. A coal stove took up a huge part of the living room, but it rarely burned in the summer time or early fall. There was an old Zenith console television that was never turned on, and just above the rabbit ears was a picture of Rilda Dean hanging on the wall.

Off to the right were bedrooms and to the back was the kitchen. There was a picture of Sam Dodson over the kitchen table. In Lena's bedroom, which became the guest bedroom whenever Grandma Virgie and I would visit, hung a portrait of Lonnie Grimes. The walls in the bedrooms were papered by newspaper, but the beds were pure feather down with heavy wool blankets and homemade quilts.

I remember the smells that emanated from Grandma Belle's kitchen. She always had a pot of pinto beans on the stove, sometimes cooking with a ham in them, other times just a slab of fatback, but they always tasted as good as they smelled. Since Belle's family went to the bed with the chickens and got up with the roosters, breakfast was the big meal of the day, but all the meals were meant to sustain a person through the work that needed doing.

Elmer Cole died in the early part of 1979, and Belle left her little farm and moved into the Crossville city limits. At 90 years old, Belle finally had hot and cold running water. She had three bedrooms and an indoor bathroom, but she wouldn't enjoy it long. In 1982, Belle broke her hip and never recovered. Her memory slowly but surely faded away as did her strength and zest for life.

Belle died on March 25, 1986 at Cumberland Medical Center, leaving behind, two sons and three daughters, 12 grandchildren, 20 great grandchildren, and six great great grandchildren. Belle lies beside Elmer at the Green Acres Memory Gardens in Crossville, Cumberland County, Tennessee. In spite of the hard times that Belle knew all her life, she remained a devout Christian. She is undoubtedly among the Great Cloud of Witnesses watching her descendants run our races and cheering us home.

Andy & Nellie

Andrew Montgomery Goff was born, July 23, 1892, and Nellie Hughes Goff was born, July 10, 1892. Andy was the son of Richard and Mary Ellen Goff (nee Stephens,) of Somerset, Kentucky. Nellie was the daughter of Bud and Mattie Hughes, also of Somerset.

Andy used to talk about the first time he saw Nellie in almost fairy-tale prose. She was running across the meadow with her long red hair blowing in the wind, and she was the prettiest thing he'd ever seen. They eloped to Huntsville, Tennessee and were married by Justice of the Peace, James McDonald, on April 29, 1913.

Andy found work on the river barges, moving coal up and down the Cumberland River, while Nellie set up housekeeping. Their first child, Herbert, came along on February 28, 1914, but died on March 21, 1914. John Milton Goff came along on June 20, 1915, followed by Thelma, born February 12, 1920.

By 1920, Andy was working for the Southern Railroad, and he moved his family to Ludlow, Kentucky to become a foreman. They moved into the section house, a home owned by the railroad. Nellie would give birth to three more children, Richard on November 17, 1924, Paul Martin on June 12, 1927 and Abel on April 2, 1930.

The child rearing and discipline fell to Nellie, as Andy's job took him away from home five days out of the week. The depression hit the Goff family hard, as they were beyond poor but still had it better than some, since Andy always had work. Five children tried the patience of the fiery redhead who was known for her Irish temper. Nellie sometimes took drastic measures to keep her children in line. One legend that surfaces at every family reunion is about the time she tied Johnny to a tree to teach him not to run away from home!

Andy and Nellie were strict Southern Baptists. That defined who they were and how they lived their lives. Andy believed in the cooperation of churches to advance missions. He believed in that old fashioned, soul saving grace. Members of the First Baptist Church of Ludlow, Kentucky, Nellie attended as often as she could when her health permitted. Andy sported a perfect attendance pin 35 years of faithful service. They reared their children in the church, and when they were grown, they too reared their families in the church.

Andy retired in 1955, and with all his children married and on their own, he and Nellie bought a little home in Covington, Kentucky. The house on 18th Street is where they were living when I would come to know them. I can remember walking up the steps and into the front door. On the left was their master bedroom. Walking past that, the living room was a big open room with two huge windows that Nellie had covered with venetian blinds and white lace curtains. There was a couch on the front wall, and two chairs on both side walls. The main attraction, though, was the huge black iron wood stove with the smell of Andy's cornbread emanating from within.

The kitchen was simple with linoleum floors, white walls. It was very utilitarian with a stove and refrigerator and a table with six chairs. Nellie's signature dish was chicken and dumplings, and that is what she served whenever the family gathered there for dinner. Dinner was often followed by Andy playing his fiddle or banjo.

Nellie died on December 4, 1972, five months shy of being married sixty years. After Nellie died, Andy moved in with his youngest son, Abel. Abel's wife, Cora, took care of Andy when Andy could no longer care for himself. In the four years following Nellie's death, Andy got weaker and weaker until congestive heart failure finally took him home in May, 1976.

Andy and Nellie are together now in Gloryland. They watched the big Goff Reunion of 2004 from the Great Cloud of Witnesses, and must have been overjoyed by those of us who came together. Strangers met at Appalachian Park in Renfro Valley and came away family. Relationships were made that will endure forever, despite distance and absence. The Goff legacy is well established.