TCO

What is your definition of middle-class success?

$30/day income?

$100/day?

$400?  $500?

What about the costs associated with the standard of living you provide yourself and/or family on that income?

Can you afford your own car?

Let’s take one vehicle as an example of what its cost adds to your standard of living — the 2012 Toyota Avalon Limited (as detailed here):

5 Year Details

Year 1 Year 2 Year 3 Year 4 Year 5 5 Yr Total
Depreciation $7,139 $3,502 $3,081 $2,731 $2,451 $18,904
Taxes & Fees $3,169 $441 $398 $362 $329 $4,699
Financing $1,175 $934 $683 $422 $151 $3,365
Fuel $2,249 $2,317 $2,386 $2,458 $2,532 $11,942
Insurance $1,480 $1,532 $1,585 $1,641 $1,698 $7,936
Maintenance $42 $404 $568 $919 $2,005 $3,938
Repairs $0 $0 $96 $232 $337 $665
Tax Credit $0 $0
True Cost to Own ® $15,254 $9,130 $8,797 $8,765 $9,503 $51,449

That doesn’t include a place to park your vehicle such as a one/two car garage, driveway or public carpark.

It doesn’t include the time you spend in the vehicle driving yourself through traffic as opposed to whatever else you could be doing in that travel time.

And that’s just one aspect of the life of a car owner, one small portion of a successful middle-class lifestyle.

If you didn’t spend that money on a car, you could spend it on yourself — a nice holiday getaway, perhaps — or on someone else — a loved one or a favourite charity.

When you say the life you live is the life you want to nourish with material goods, what is the cost to the future that you’re spending on yourself today?

The purchasing power of money is a responsibility, a benefit and a danger.

I don’t have kids.

My future is here and now.

I want my wife and myself to enjoy our days together while we can because we’ve seen couples where one spouse or the other died at an early age, including her brother at 51.

My wife and I turn 51 this year so it is an important one in our joint psyche.

We know we’re borrowing from the future to give ourselves some enjoyment today but that’s okay.

Sure, there’s a little guilt that we’re enjoying ourselves when her brother no longer can and that’s okay, too.

Life is what it is.

There may be kids starving out there somewhere but I’m not taking the world on to raise.

With total cost of ownership there is an emotional component as well as a rational mathematical one.

Today the two crossed paths.

Tomorrow we’ll see if we’re as happy today as we thought we’d hope we’re going to be adding a few luxuries to our motorcar collection.

[I’m behind in thanking others — time to catch up soon.]

What in the world?

Went to the petrol station for a fill-up this afternoon.

The attendant ran right up when I’d pumped only for a few seconds.

“Sorry, guv’nuh.  New regulations — can’t put more than seven bullets’ worth of energy in the ol’ tank.”

I couldn’t believe my ears.

I drove home to meet the heating oil salesman.

Same story.  A few squeezes of dinosaur juice in the oil tank and he was ready to go.

I asked if he knew where I could get some coal.  “Sorry, ol’ chap.  Guv’ment regulations and all.  Been sold out since this morning.”

I’ve got me wife and kids bicycling in the basement, charging the batteries for our house since this dad-blasted rain’s been pouring down for days, rendering our solar panels practically useless.

Looks like we’ll be walking from now on, thanks to our government that has to pretend it’s in charge every now and then, glosing over the fact it’s beholden to lobbyists and foreign investors.

Bubble

Guinevere stood inside the entryway, looking through the portal window, admiring the view of the Martian landscape interrupted here and there by landing pods.

“What is fear?”

She rolled the question around and around in her thoughts, thinking back over the last decade of her life, the years of education, more years of training for this moment.

A terrible automobile smashup had slowed her down temporarily.

A small leg injury had lightened her steps on the dance floor once.

Missile design and rocket propulsion classes had ended.

Her new life began.

She welcomed the new change, relished the challenges, climbing the rungs of the ladder of life that disappeared into infinity.

What is fear?  Fear is the type of insanity where you wanted things to remain the same when you knew they were not in your possession or in your control to begin with, subject to change without notice.

Guinevere knew no fear.

She lived on borrowed time.

Guinevere looked out the portal window and asked a question out loud to no one in particular.

“How far do you want to go exploring tomorrow?”

After thousands of hours in simulator training and millions of miles of travel, she was ready to take off right now, no moment wasted, but knew she needed to help the crew unload the rest of the gear.

After all, they had the rest of their lives to spend here on this pioneering outpost.

What was one last night together with everyone before they branched out into separate scientific teams and work crews?

Sneaker Net: The New Superpower and the End of Elitist Supremacy

The war of words escalated, pushing and shoving people from one group to another, as miniwaves of popularity crashed upon the shore of cultural obscurity.

One day, the Entitlementists aligned with the Ruralites.

The next day, the Ruralites aligned with the Provisionists.

The Urbanskis didn’t care, as long as the tired, the hungry and the poor could be recruited from foreign shores and hired to serve as underpaid maids, servants, sweatshop factory workers and baristas moonlighting as actors/writers/barristers.

The troops hidden in everyday life — lone wolves, pistol-packin’ mamas, disrespected war veterans — waited for the signal.

Was the pending death of the country’s leader the red flag of war they needed?

What about the death and illness of other leaders?

How about the injury of a favourite athlete on the field of play?  Forced to retire early, would the athlete lead the charge?

The signal, as history tells us, was actually a small series of events — some big, some largely forgotten — that forced the people to give up their comfortable couch potato lives and destroy the old ways that ate holes in the moral fabric of modern life.

A family traveling home from a holiday visit to in-laws pulled off the side of the road due to a flat tyre on their caravan.

A lorry driver, his eyes off the road, typed a text message of undying love and devotion.  Glancing up, he saw the caravan and swerved at the last second, avoiding a collision but accidentally sending the text message and picture of his naked self to his wife instead of his port-of-call girlfriend.

The wife, confused about the text message, called her casual sex girlfriend and told her their bicurious relationship was over because the wife’s husband was coming home and he had the hots for his wife once again.

The girlfriend, upset about the sudden breakup, told her brother that the world sucked and she planned to kill herself unless he gave her a good reason.

The brother, looking for a reason to use his new secret code, ultrawideband radio to trigger his Orange Tang Clan to start a war with their rivals, the Extreme Congestion Zicam Webcam Gang, told his sister to grab her ammo clips, Bushmasters and case of Busch beer — they were going to shoot some mofos and end a rivalry for good.

The sister stopped by a local liquor store to buy the beer but found they were out of Busch — the store had PBR, Old Milwaukee and a special on Popcorn Sutton XXX moonshine.

She met her brother and his clan members at an abandoned carpark.  They drank the beer and the moonshine, hooted and hollered, cheered and jeered and generally made a lot of noise out of range of the Webcam Gang.

Drunk, inebriated, schlossed, they drove toward their destination, missing a few turns, running over a few old ladies walking their dogs, shooting some homeless people and specifically raising an alarm that something was amiss if not afoot.

Suddenly finding themselves chased by a couple of police cruisers, the Orange Tang Clan crashed into velvet ropes in front of a museum where a black tie affair was held in honour of a civil rights leader.

The police officers called in to headquarters the situation, over the noise of a jazz band and machine gun fire, that the Klan was attacking a Martin Luther King, Jr, party.

The dispatchers who received the call quickly texted their friends that a race riot was underway downtown.

Meanwhile, the children sat bored in their caravan, their father trying to read the tiny text on his smartphone about how to change a tyre and their mother screaming that she was tired, had a headache and wondered why her husband couldn’t just call the roadside assistance company that they too much every year to provide service for a night like this.

Bloggers picked up the retexted messages from the dispatchers and announced that global riots had begun in the early part of 2013, as had been predicted by a group of people who claimed they had properly decoded the Mayan calendar which said that within a month of 21 Dec 2012, the world economy would collapse as the global society attacked itself from within.

The kids in the caravan read the rerererererererererereinterpreted text message in posts by their friends, saying that it looked like a gender war had broken out, whatever that meant.

The mother opened the glovebox, pulled out a handgun and shot the father, then shot herself.

The kids, knowing their father kept a survivalist kit hidden in the compartment where the spare tyre was supposed to be, pulled out the kit, loaded the weapons and took off into the woods, familiar with the layout of the land because it was on the edge of the camp they spent their summers.

The lorry driver had a heart attack and crashed into a petrol station, setting it on fire and causing a massive explosion, which confirmed the fears of people in the neighbourhood glued to their tellies which broadcast images of riots breaking out around the world.  The neighbours quickly confirmed who was with and who was against each other and build barricades in the streets.

Fathers, sons and brothers, mothers, daughters and sisters fought hand-to-hand and hand-in-hand as the riots escalated.

Local, state and national military/militia units were put into action but, as members of the armed forces found out their family members were attacking each other, refused to obey commands, turning vehicles and planes toward their homes in vain attempts to save their own.

Politicians, unable to find their spokespeople or speechwriters, made personal appeals directly to their constituents for calm, fearing their reelection finance funds would become worthless, forcing them to get real jobs that required a person to work and lose their fantasies that the simple, workfree sounds of their own voices had a powerful sway over others.

Signals are not always what they seem or were planned to be.

Sometimes, the technologically elite miss the boat when mobs use the old-fashioned sneaker net, mixed with a little grain alcohol, to motivate themselves into action.

That, my friends, is how the Velvet Rope Revolution was started — a flat tyre.

It doesn’t take much of an imagination to know that historians have raked the record books looking for the cause of that flat tyre.

The thick, hardened thorn of a single rosebud, perhaps?

What is religion?

Cultural anthropologists observe line of vehicles at petrol station, assume the vehicles are receiving tinctures of holy temple oil, declare petrol stations the ultimate church/temple/mosque/synagogue.

Pull up, receive instant blessing, and drive off — that’s the kind of drivebys we need these days!

The more change in your pocket, the more your pocket stays the same.

Not every college graduate was an A+ student

The event calendar reminds me I’m supposed to give a detailed analysis of the current negotiating points in the resolution of the “fiscal cliff” crisis.

Crisis?

Are you kidding me?

When do politicians get to tell me that they’re lives are more important than mine?

Oh, wait, that’s right — the old argument that the government rarely makes permanent the cuts in taxes it had announced were temporary to begin with.

Property taxes, payroll/income taxes, sales taxes, and on and on.

I’m sophisticated, educated, informed and jaded.

I know what society/civilisation should be and isn’t.

Do you remember the first time that your ancestors lived off the land?

Take that last thought in whatever direction you want to take, assuming whatever your subculture has told you is the proper length of time to consider the lineage you publicly claim as yours.

You can go back to the early days of your belief sets and look forward to now.

In that span of time, what has been accomplished that we clearly say is different than then?

I’ll give you a few minutes to draw your family tree.  Use as much paper and time as you need…

Tick…

Tock…

Tick…

Tock…

Got it?

Good!

Now, let’s proceed.

When was the last time your family had to subsist on the land?

When was the last time your family had to depend on others’ subsistence?

Are you descended from a family of tricksters?

Farmers?

In this global society of excess, how much belongs to you just for being alive?

The air is free to breathe.

The sky is free to view, the rain to drink, the wild grass, trees and animals to eat.

But if you can read this and are reading this, there’s this bit of stuff we call infrastructure, the woven threads of social fabric, the safety net of civilisation that props you up in place to distinguish your sophisticated, educated self from the air, sky, rain, grass, trees and wild animals.

But if you want to live off the land, making your own clothing and shelter, growing/raising/harvesting your own food, property rights unimportant to your wandering lifestyle, then by all means let us not bother you with the concepts of taxes and fees to pay for what we deem are necessary components of our civilised social species.

We shall cordon off areas for purely self-sufficient subcultures and leave them alone to figure out how to live with local insect populations, changing weather conditions and whatever it takes to survive without technologically-advanced modern conveniences.

Otherwise, if you have used and in any way lean upon present-day developments such as dictionaries, mechanised labour-saving devices and transportation networks, then we have to figure out a way to share the costs of our local/global interconnectednessisms.

Is there a fair way to share?

Competition is never fair.  Someone always has more information to make a better decision about the value and costs of a connection.

The seller of a single deer carcass who’s asking an exorbitant price, implying it’s the only deer left, may or may not know there’s another herd out of sight of the potential buyers but the buyers aren’t always sure.

Or one buyer, who may know of a market where the deer is even more valuable because there are buyers with many extra labour/investment credits to spend on the luxury of an expensive deer carcass, becomes a new seller.

And on and on.

The value of a connection is relative, not absolute.

So, too, the fairness.

What is a fair share?

How do I know that the person next to me is paying the right amount for the free use of a public transportation network we agree to share, obeying rules of the road together, mutually ensuring the safety of each other during our travels?

How do I know that the doctor who’s treating me for a rare disease was a top-notch A+ student and is an energetic continuous learner who has a burning desire to treat me as if I was the most important patient to cure?

What if I don’t know but if I knew, it wouldn’t matter?

If you and I knew the rules, obeyed the rules and reaped our rewards for our hard work, is it fair that the rules are changed to make up for the rule breakers or those who didn’t work hard enough or in the right way?

Change is constant and what was right yesterday becomes wrong tomorrow.

The air in a tyre is part of a closed system.

A tear in the tyre wall causes a leak of air into an open system.

No matter how much we keep pumping air into the tyre, the tyre can’t hold the same air pressure as before the tear occurred.

Same for a subculture’s pool of resources.

Inputs and outputs, simple as that.

Politicians from the local, state, national and international level will have us believe that the United States of America must resolve the “fiscal cliff” crisis or we could see a worldwide recession.

Why do I feel convinced these are just hypnotic games of population control?

Two phrases I keep in mind here: “the emperour’s new clothes” and “what’s in it for me?”.

I look around this room in which I type and see all the stuff that exists because of publicly-pooled resources as well as stuff that exists because of excess beyond subsistence farming/hunting.

Pretty much everything.

Almost nothing is directly related to living hand-to-mouth off the land except for the air I breathe and sky I could out of the shuttered window.

Therefore, I must think about this subject from another angle.

How is the threat of recession bad for us (I can think of many examples where going over the fiscal cliff could be personally bad for me but I’m not selfish enough to plead my case here)?

Eventual anarchy?

Income inequality off the charts?

Exotic, complicated financial instruments too complicated for the many to understand and thus used to greatest advantage for the few who do — derivatives upon derivatives upon derivatives, yes, and on and on, like pricing a deer carcass beyond any value its meat could provide.

Bottom line: no one can convince me that their hot air expended over the dead deer carcass we’ve labeled the fiscal cliff crisis is a threat or great buy other than one people promote to inflate their self-worth.

The U.S. economy is not a tightly-sealed closed system and if it leaks more or less than it did, so what?

If I have less buying power or more expensive access to healthcare, does it matter?

What about restrictions on my free air or free sky or availability of wild grass, trees and animals?

I blame no one for my economic hardships on anyone but myself.

I take personal responsibility for determining if the people with whom I interact and on whom I depend for their college-acquired knowledge/curiosity/wisdom were or need to have been A+ students.

Necessity is the mother of invention.

Hardships create acute awareness of what defines necessity.

Ultimately, only I can say what is necessary to make my life worthwhile.

Let us go over the fiscal cliff and see what happens — guess what, the world keeps spinning, the Sun keeps shining and people still have to figure out how to compete for our global pool of resources while sharing public space and respecting private rights.

In other words, the fiscal cliff is a sleight-of-hand illusion.  Don’t be fooled.  You will figure out how to put food on the table if it’s no longer handed to you from the public trough.

Enuf sed.

Sidewalks are a luxury we can ill afford

Walking down the asphalt pathway that serves as a minor vein in the arterial network for motorised vehicles, I observed a dirty old dog sniffing around a rubbish bin, wondering if dog catchers still exist.

Just now, an hour later, I saw the dog catcher drive by.  Bye, bye, dog, someone’s previous pet — you were loved once and now you’re gone, just like that.

Ahh…the convenience of old-fashioned social networking.

Some days, it’s best to let pictures speak for themselves.

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The Yellow Leaves of Autumn

Looking through the dusty bedroom window in the late morning sunlight, I saw yellow, lots of yellow…

Dirt and dust from Plains’ states, a plain state of dirt and dust, plane wood, plane wings, stated simply, plainly, mainly.

A hunter’s paradise, a Halloween scene, a setting for a Sorcerer soundtrack, a story tinged with subplots from “Special/RX.”

What about Collins by Samuel Johnson?

A Distant Cousin Inquires…

[This post is for a distant cousin of my father, who wanted to know more about their family lineage, including personal accounts]

On Saturday, May 10th, 2008, the family history my father had shared with me as we spent time together on Saturday:

About growing up on Black Oak Ridge in Fountain City, TN, with his grandparents, same house his mother grew up in.  A large part of property on Black Oak Ridge owned by a freedman in late 1800s.  Part of freedman’s land purchased by Dad’s great-grandparents in early 1900s.

Grandparents married in 1910.  Dresser with mirror in my parents’ dining room served as part of wedding dowry.  Dad’s grandmother died while he, who took the train to work at Tennessee Theater (and usually walked home), was met by his two aunts at the theater so Dad knew the news they had.  His grandfather died in a nursing care facility during my youth.  Dad recalled where both his grandparents had laid in bed during their last days in their house.  He drew up floor plans of the two-story house.  I recall the old linoleum peeling up in the kitchen, faded wall covering in the front room (the wall dividing the front room into a bedroom and parlor long ago removed to accommodate a hospital bed), stairs to the second floor and a dark closet in the back of the second story with just a sheet over the door, giving a eery feeling to the upstairs.

“Granddad’s mother’s first name was Gertrude. She was known as a strong-willed, somewhat controlling person, especially to her daughter-in-law, my Grandmother, Lucy Margaret Pope Eldridge (Mrs. Frank L.) and my Mother, Thelma May Eldridge, etc., etc.

“Don’ t know her maiden name, nor do I remember her husband’s (Great-Grandfather Eldridge) first name.

“Granddad (Frank Eldridge), their first-born, was a sheet metal worker and union member at the Southern Railway.

“His youngest brother George Eldridge (Uncle Ed) was a staff member of the Burlington Route RR. He commuted daily by train from Naperville, IL, to The Loop and return, 1920s – late 1940s. (Uncle Ed “ran away with the circus” when he was young, and ended up in IL.) He and his wife, Lil, had one son, who lived in Kankakee, IL, until he retired to AZ. Best I recollect, Uncle Ed lived with him until he passed away. Lil (Lilly) was a first gen. German-American. I remember her Mother speaking in a German-accented English.

“His sister, Ada Eldridge Waters , and her husband, owned a small potato chip bakery in Pueblo, CO. Their son Earl was our only family member KIA in WWII.

“The middle brother, Charles, lived in LA and worked for Lockheed Aircraft there. He had one son, whom I met only once, when Granddad and I ‘went west’ in 1951. Never had contact with him thereafter.”

My father’s grandfather (my great-grandfather) worked as a tinsmith/sheet metal worker for the Southern Railway because he left school in the sixth grade to help support family (his father had worked as a blacksmith).  He used college-level math and trigonometric shortcuts to design and build parts for his job.  He also built the house on Black Oak Ridge, one story at a time.  The floor sloped down in places where he had extended the width of the house.

Dad’s mother and uncle used to haul water up the hill from a spring until they got regular running water at the house.  Dad used to play at the spring and creek with his friends Philip and George Bradfute.  One time they saw a water moccasin and hightailed it up the hill back to the house as if the snake could chase and catch them.

The scary room I remembered as a child had no fearful connotation to my father.  His grandfather developed black and white film from Brownie cameras in that room, considered an upstairs closet.  A tape job held together one of the family Brownies — family lore said that the camera had rolled all the way down House Mountain.

My great-grandfather owned only one car in his life, a Model T in the 1920s.  His wife had earned a reputation as a speedy driver of the car, started back when she had ridden a fast horse (the horse had racing blood and would outrun horse-and-buggy riders if passed).  The family used to ride the car up to Monte LeConte long before the Great Smoky Mountains National Park existed.  Mechanical brakes did not work well on the car so reverse was used to slow down the car.  On the way down the mountain one time, they couldn’t stop the car when a cow stepped out onto the road so they hit and killed the cow (and of course, damaged the car).  They located the farmer — he didn’t blame them or ask for compensation because the cow had stepped in front of them, not the other way around.

Harris and Pope are family names on the Eldridge side of my family (Eldridge is paternal grandmother’s name; Capps is paternal BIOLOGICAL grandfather’s name (and not one to discuss with my father since Papa Capps abandoned my father and his mother) — my father changed his name to Hill after his mother remarried).

Grandma Harris attended Smithwood School.  One of the stories she told related how some boys at school came from the French side of Switzerland (a town called Tunn?).  American school boys taught the Swiss boys how to say “I love you” to American girls and then laughed when the Swiss boys said the phrase to the American girls (probably thinking they were saying “Hello”).  Very funny.

The Harrises owned property where Maryville College now sits.  Supposedly a sign on the school campus attests to that fact.

Dad delivered newspapers as a kid.  Dad has told me about some of his famous customers in emails through the years.  I will pull those together for a later blog entry.

My great-grandfather kept a string of dried hot peppers on the back porch and would eat them to settle an upset stomach.  In his later years, he sat in the front room of the house to watch television.  A set of condos sits where that house stood — a result of my grandmother and great-uncle selling the property to a developer, teaching me that money has more importance than land held by two generations of family members, signs, too, that my family has always migrated to new/better land.
Subject: FW: Family history for descendents of Col. John Sawyers

Here is some information of Dad’s family history (scanned and OCR’d from a book cited in the email links at the bottom of this blog entry):

FAMILY HISTORY OF COL. JOHN SAWYERS. Col. John Sawyers, born in 1745; died November 20, 1831, age. 86 years. Buried in Washington Church Cemetery, Knox County, Tenn.

Rebecca Crawford, wife of Col. John Sawyers, born February 7, 1753 ; died February 25, 1841, age, 88 years and 8 days. Buried in Washington Church Cemetery. John Sawyers and Rebecca Crawford were married January 30, 1776, in Augusta County. Virginia. To this union were born the following children :

5. — John Sawyers, Jr., born April 9, 1786; died October 1, 1851. Buried in Washington Church Cemetery.

JOHN SAWYERS, JR., FAMILY.

John Sawyers, Jr., second son and fifth child of Col. John Sawyers, was a man of sterling integrity and of sober and industrious habits. In stature was about 5 feet 10 or 11 inches; dark hair and eyes, and withal a commanding figure; in deportment gentle and kind; in the church, state and society, he was one of the substantial citizens of that day. He married Nancy Shell, a daughter of Christian Shell, who early emigrated from Virginia and settled near Graveston, Knox County, Tenn. At the time of his marriage, in 1809, his father located him on about one-third of the one thousand acres purchased in August, 1794, which he afterwards willed him. Upon this tract of land John Sawyers, Jr.. built a large four-room, two-story house of native hewn logs, with a huge stone chimney in the center. Two rooms of this house are still standing with the chimney intact. This house is three-quarters of a mile East of the Josiah Sawyers old home, on the old Emery Road.

John Sawyers, Jr., was the first child born after the removal to Knox County. His second wife was Miss Martha Thompson, whom he married about 1846, who some years after the death of John Sawyers, Jr., married James S. Bell, Beaver Creek, Knox County, Tenn.

James S. Bell died Sept., 1860. His wife, Martha Sawyers Bell, died in 1866 or 1867. Both are buried side by side at Bell’s Camp Ground, Knox County, Tennessee.

2nd S. G. John Sawyers, Jr., fifth child of Col. John Sawyers, born April 9, 1786; died Oct. 1, 1851; buried Washington Church. Nancy Shell, wife, born Feb. 18, 1788; died May 26, 1844; buried Washington Church.

John Sawyers, Jr., and Nancy Shell were married July 11, 1809. To this union was born the following children, to wit:

7. Rebecca Crawford, born Oct.1. 1822; died Nov. 7, 1877 ; buried Anderson Cemetery. Married Samuel K. Harris. (See Harris part of History.)

Rebecca Crawford Sawyers Harris, seventh child of John Sawyers, Jr., became a member of Washington Church upon profession of faith soon after her marriage to Samuel K. Harris. Her life was full of Christian activity and work. She was a thorough student of the Bible, having been trained therein by her grandmother, and she in turn imparted this knowledge to her children by daily reading to them from the Holy Scriptures. She was a woman of strong character, self poised and possessed considerable executive ability. She met the cares and duties of life with a courageous heart and cheerfully and dutifully filled her place in her home. She was a true mother, devoted to the welfare of her children. She left her children, as a testimony to her la})or of love for them, the memory of a life which time cannot erase, and her children rise up and call her blessed.

The immediate cause of her death was pneumonia fever. The morning before she died in the afternoon she said to her son. Dr. M. M. Harris, “The chariots have been here all night waiting for me.” The most of her children were at her bedside, to whom she said many blessed words before her departure.

She was buried Sunday afternoon, Nov. 9, 1877, Rev. David A. Herron, her pastor, preaching the funeral. Buried in Anderson Cemetery.

SAMUEL KINCHEN HARRIS.

Samuel Kinchen Harris, twelfth child of Simon Harris. Born Sept. 12. 1818. on the Holston River, opposite the station known as Mascot, Tenn.. on the Southern Railway, about fourteen miles east of Knoxville. At the death of his father in 1831, Samuel Harris being about thirteen years of age, it fell upon his shoulders to support his widowed mother and two sisters, Clara and Martha. He had but a limited education, owing to the fact of his having to support the family, but notwithstanding this and the poor facilities at that day for getting an education, he attained a good common English education. In stature he was five feet ten inches, fair complexion, blue eyes and light hair; a robust, healthy man all his life.

At his marriage to Rebecca Crawford Sawyers in 1810, he moved to Harbison’s Cross Roads, where he rented a small farm and lived there until the fall of 1841, when he purchased a small farm in Hinds” Valley, eleven miles east of Knoxville, on the Tazewell pike. Here he lived until 1853, when he became Superintendent of the Knox County Poor Asylum, which was then and is now situated at [Maloneyville. He lived here four years, moving to the present old home eight miles east of Knoxville, on the Tazewell Pike, in January, 1857. This farm of two hundred and thirty acres he purchased from Dr. Isaac A. Anderson, founder of the present Maryville College, paying for the place at that time four thousand ($4,000) dollars. Here he lived, completing the raising of his first family of ten children. His beloved wife, Rebecca Crawford Sawyers, died November 7, 1877.

Samuel Kinchen Harris was one of the substantial citizens of Knox County, He served as Justice of the Peace of Knox County for six years, between 1870 and 1880. During this time he took an active interest in all matters pertaining to the best interests of the County, especially in the matter of public roads. He, as well as his first wife, were members of Washington Church, he being at his death a deacon in that church. He lived an honest, Christian life ; his word as good as his bond ; was honorable in all his transactions, leaving behind him a record that his children and descendants may justly be proud of.

OBITUARY of SAMUEL K. HARRIS

One of the Most Prominent Men of Knox County Died at an Advanced Age.

“Samuel K. Harris. age 82 years, one of the best known citizens of Knox County, residing in the Third Civil District, died Friday night, May 4th, 1900, at 7 o’clock, at his home. His health had been failing for some time, yet the end came as a surprise to his many friends in the city.

“The funeral occurred Sunday at 2 p. m., at the Anderson burying ground, six miles out on the Tazewell Pike. Rev. T. M. Lowery. D. D., pastor of the Third Presbyterian Church, Knoxville, conducted the services, assisted by Rev. J. H. Newman, of Maryville, Tenn.”

About a month after the death of Samuel K. Harris, William M. Harris, one of his pall-bearers. was killed by accident — June 19th, 1900. William M. Harris being an Elder, and Samuel K. Harris being a Deacon, in Washington Church, a memorial funeral service was held in their honor at Washington Church, some time in July following, the memorial sermon being preached by Rev. P. M. Bartlett, D. D., of Maryville, Tenn., who was then supplying the pulpit at Washington Church.

SAMUEL KINCHEN HARRIS’ FAMILY
2nd H. G.— 3rd S. G. Samuel Kinchen Harris, born Sept. 12, 1818 ; died May 4, 1900; buried Anderson Cemetery. Married Rebecca Crawford Sawyers, born Oct. 1, 1822; died Nov. 7, 1877; buried Anderson Cemetery. They were married Oct. 22, 1840, by Rev. Gideon S. White. To this union was born ton children, to wit :

3rd H. G.— 4th S. G. 1. Madison Monroe Harris, born Sept. 21, 1841.

2. John Sawyers Harris, born Aug. 2, 1843 ; died June 2, 1881 ; buried Anderson Cemetery.

3. Susan Malvina Harris, born Nov. 30, 1845.

4. Clarissa Rowena Harris, born IMareh 23, 1848 ; died July 14, 1901.

5. Joseph C’owen Harris, born July 23, 1850.

6. Rev. William Emmons Blackburn Harris, born May 7, 1853.

7. Mariah Paralee Harris, born Sept. 9, 1855.

8. Claiborne Alfred Harris, born June 2, 1858.

9. Ellen Cornelia Harris, born July 14, 1861.

10. Miunie Virginia Harris, born Aug. 28, 1865.

WILLIAM E. POPE’S FAMILY.

3rd H. G. — 4th S. G. Ellen Cornelia Harris, born July 14, 1861, married William E. Pope, born June 4, 1861. They were married September 20, 1883. To this union was born six children., to wit:

4th H. G.— 5th S. G. 1. Nettie Rebecca Pope, born July 5. 1884.

2. Lucy Margaret Pope, born April 24, 1887.

3. Willie Myrtle Pope, born Aug. 2, 1889.

4. Charles E. Pope, born April 16, 1894; died March 30, 1895; buried Anderson Cemetery.

5. Laura Cornelia Pope, born Feb. 28, 1896.

6. Pearl Richmond Pope, born Aug. 13, 1898.

W. E. Pope lives at Fountain City, Tenn. Has been employed by the Sanford, Chamberlain & Albers Drug Company for fifteen years. He and his family are members of the Fountain City M. E. Church.

4th H. G.— 5th S. G. Nettie Rebecca Pope married Nov. 3, 1909, to Rufus H. Caldwell, born Sept. 21, 1875. To this union has been born two children, to wit :

5t.h H. G.— 6th S. G. 1. Evalyn Palmer Caldwell, born June 20, 1910.

2. James Erwin Caldwell, born Dee. 1, 1911.

R. H. Caldwell is connected with the Miller Dry Goods Co., of Knoxville, and lives at Fountain City, Tenn.

4th H. G. 5th S. G. Lucy Margaret Pope was married Sept. 3, 1910, to Frank L. Eldridge. To this union has been born one daughter, to wit :

5th H. G.— 6th S. G. Thelma May Eldridge, born May 22, 1912. Died May 19, 1997.

Mr. Eldridge and family live at Fountain City, Tenn. Prank L. Eldridge is an employee of the Southern Railway Company, Knoxville, Tenn. He is an active member of the Baptist Church.

OBITUARY for Thelma May Eldridge

HIRTH, THELMA ELDRIDGE HILL – age 84, passed away Monday evening in Port Charlotte, Fla. She was a charter member of the South Biscayne Baptist Church. She was a charter cradle roll member of Central Baptist Church of Fountain City. She held a life-membership with the American Federation of Garden Clubs and a life-member of the Florida Garden Clubs. She was preceded in death by her first husband, Lee Bruce Hill; and her parents, Frank Lee and Lucy Pope Eldridge. Retired school teacher of Knox County Schools. Survived by husband, Clarence Hirth of Florida; son and daughter-in-law, Richard Lee and Evelyn Hill of Kingsport; granddaughter and grandson-in-law, Anne Hill and Kevin Sherwood of Kingsport; grandson and granddaughter-in-law, Richard L. II and Janeil Hill of Huntsville, Ala.; great-grandchildren, Nicholas and Maggie Sherwood. Graveside service 2:30 p.m. Saturday, Greenwood Cemetery, Rev. Ed Jenkins officiating. In lieu of flowers, memorials may be made to the Central Baptist Church of Fountain City Library Fund or to Carson Newman College. The family will receive friends from 1-2 p.m. Saturday at Gentry-Griffey Chapel.

Thelma May Eldridge married, in 1933 or 1934, James Horace Capps, born in Knoxville, in the year 1913 [(He subsequently married Bessie Eunice Stallings on 29-Apr-1939 in Knox Co, Tennessee, and had two children: CLADUETTE CAPPS, b. 03-Jun-1946, Knoxville, Knox Co, Tennesse/Knoxville, Knox Co., TN.; ii. JR JAMES HORACE CAPPS, b. 23-Aug-1947, Knoxville, Knox Co, Tennessee.) (She subsequently was remarried to Lee Bruce Hill, born on 27 Jan 1911 (Joppa, Grainger, TN), died on Apr 1978; after Lee’s death, she was remarried to Clarence Hirth – no children were born from from either of the last two marriages)]. To this union was born one son, to wit:
6th H. G.— 7th S. G. Richard Horace Capps was born February 22, 1935 (changed his name to Richard Lee Hill by Court Order-Knox County-1944*).  Died May 18, 2012.

Richard Lee Hill was married to Mary Evelyn Teffeteller on August 26, 1956.  To this union were born 2 children, to wit:

7th H.G. — 8th S.G. 1. Richard Lee Hill, II was born May 6, 1962.

2. Anne Elizabeth Hill was born February 22, 1964.  She was married to Kevin Sherwood on Dec. 28, 1985 (subsequently, she was remarried to Bruce Trask – no children were born from the last marriage).  To this union were born 2 children, to wit:

8th H. G.— 9th S. G. 1. Nicholas Ryan Sherwood was born June 25, 1992.

2. Maggie Ellen Sherwood was born May 13, 1994.

====================================================

Subject: Family history for descendents of Col. John Sawyers
To: My Children/Grandchildren
Date: Saturday, July 3, 2010, 11:04 AM

Dad/Grandpa Richard L. Hill, writes:

Please see the following link for the family history of Col. John Sawyers, from whom I am descended.

See p. 132 for listing of my Mother, Thelma May Eldridge.

She was 5th Harris generation and 6th Sawyers generation. Thus I am 6th Harris and 7th Sawyers.

Note that the book may be viewed in a variety of ways.

http://www.archive.org/details/familyhistoryofc01harr

http://www.archive.org/stream/familyhistoryofc01harr#page/n7/mode/2up

*Dad writes:
Rick, I am not adopted. My name was changed from Richard Horace Capps to Richard Lee Hill by Court Order-Knox County-1944. I have the exact date and have a copy of the court order, should you want a copy of that copy. Lee was from Lee Bruce Hill, Frank Lee Eldridge and Ralph Lee Eldridge.You were the 5th Lee!

Richard was from Richard M. Harris, who entered service as Sgt, Co F, 3d TN Infantry,U.S.A, at Flat Lick, KY, Feb 10, 1862. (I see a faint hand written note in the S-H Fam Hist Book (hereafter S-H FHB), that says “Great Uncle” (of ?).

That same day, another relative entered service at the same place. William M. Sawyers entered as Captain of Co K, 3d TN INF, USA. He was appointed. Lt. Col. 8-20-1863.

Though in heavy fighting throughout the Civil War, each survived the War and was mustered out in Feb 1965. Richard Harris was wounded.

In battle, William was struck down by an exploding shell and carried from the field of battle unconscious. “His person seemed charmed in this engagement, as his sword was broken, and a number of bullets passed through his uniform, but strange to say, his body was unharmed.” (S-H FHB)

Note that they served in the UNION ARMY. We had relatives on both sides.
Knoxville was a town with sympathies in both directions, N. and S.

Here are Forgey men who served : (none shown in Am Revolutionary War in S-H FHB).

War of 1812-15
Alexander G. Forgey, (with Jackson at Battle of New Orleans, which , as you know, took place AFTER the war was declared over-no instant communication then).

Seminole War, 1836-37
James A. Forgey, (son of Alexander A. Forgey) , under General Jessup.

War with Mexico, 1846-48
James A. Forgey, (the same!), entered service again as a private in Co. C, 1st Indiana Infantry, at New Albany, Ind., June 14, 1846, under command of Col. James P. Drake. Mustered out in New Orleans, June , 1847.

Andrew J. Forgey entered service on same date and place and in same unit as James A., served under Gens. Scott and Taylor in Mexico. Mustered out same date and place.

Civil War, 1861-65
James A. Forgey, (yep, once again!), though 45 years old at the time, entered service as Corporal in Co. H, 29th Iowa Infantry, USA, July 24, 1862. This time he was less fortunate, for he contracted smallpox and all but died of it. He was mustered out on disability April 24, 1863.

Thomas C. Forgey, son of Alexander C. Forgey, private, Co B, 46th Indiana Infantry, Feb. 18, 1864. Mustered out Sept. 4, 1865, in Louisville, KY.

Andrew A. Forgey, son of James A. Forgey, private, Co B, 46th Ind. INF, etc, same as Thomas above.

John B. Forgey, son of James A. Forgey, private, Co H,4th Iowa INF, June 4, 1861. Died of smallpox Feb 3, 1863 and buried in National Cemetery, Young’s Point, LA.

 

“……ain’t gonna study war no more….”
from an old A-A ( formerly Negro) spiritual whose title I do not remember.

News Digest, 14th of October 2012

A few years ago, I installed a couple of ultrasonic buzzers in our attics to keep out animals.  The first year, it was quieter than usual — fewer bumps in the middle of the night by our furry friends.  Then, this year, I discovered a family of raccoons had taken up residence in the attic.

Call it affirmation of survival of the fittest except, in this case, it is a family of deaf raccoons that discovered a place to live peaceably under the roof of our house.

I found out that fact last night by opening the attic door and shouting at the raccons to be quiet.  The baby raccoons kept chasing each other until one of them must have smelled me and turned, catching the attention of the other two who turned and froze, too.

Waving my arms and making aggressive charging motions scared them off into the unreachable corners.

Well, at least there’ll be no more screaming at the top of my lungs and confirming to my neighbours that the crazy man next door is trying to commune with the dead again.

In robot news, more from the analysis of Heidegger’s Being and Time by Hubert L. Dreyfus…

“2. Comportment is adaptable and copes with the situation in a variety of ways. Carpenters do not hammer like robots.  Even in typing, which seems most reflex-like and automatic, the expert does not return to the home keys but strikes the next key from wherever the hand and fingers are at the time.  In such coping one responds on the basis of a vast past experience of what has happened in previous situations, or, more exactly, one’s comportment manifests dispositions that have been shaped by a vast amount of previous dealings, so that in most cases when we exercise these dispositions everything works the way it should.”

“4. If something goes wrong, people and higher animals are startled. Mechanisms and insects are never startled. People are startled because their activity is directed into the future even when they are not pursuing conscious goals.  Dasein is always ahead of itself.”

In other words, our actions/thoughts are based purely on the past while focused on the future.  No wonder we have no idea what we’re doing in the present moment.

In business news, UPS made a hostile bid for the company Space Exploration Technologies Corp, commonly known as SpaceX, now that SpaceX has demonstrated its near-Earth-orbit package delivery service is reliable.

Experts expect FedEx to make a competitive bid to prevent UPS from expanding its reaches to “infinity and beyond,” with FedEx merely wanting to “be there before there are customers to be there,” mainly the Earth-to-Moon route that international transportation corporations are watering at the mouth to sink their teeth into.

The UPS CEO denied that Felix Baumgartner would be vice president of dropoff service for the new SpaceX division, if their bid is accepted.

The bicycle messenger union has opened negotiations for a stratospheric drop and parachute deployment training center that could provide pinpoint hand-delivery of packages to customers in remote locations via sky-high balloon or dirigible.

Pickup of the delivery person is a major sticking point in the negotiations at this time.