John Wesley Gillum was a very good man. He was strong, honest, a very hard worker. He had cleared 100 acres of land at Pontoon - with an ax! Pretty good. 5-6 acres per year was a good rate in pioneer times. He was a traveling stock trader, owned a sawmill with lifelong friend Jim McCulley, and He became interested in developing a bigger, stronger work mule. He poured a lot of money into this enterprise once he was set up at Wing,
A mule is a hybrid cross between a male donkey, (Jack) and a mare. How, I wondered, with the size difference. So I asked. Well, its just as simple as can be. Dig a ditch, stand the mare in it, The Jack takes it from there, with a little help steering his valuable-as-gold member by hand. John Wesley bought a huge, black Jack from Kentucky, King Leo. He also bought another, Pizo, from Spain. King Leo cost $1000, Pizo, $2000. That was a princely sum at the turn of the century! A wing neighbor, Marion Turner, and others became involved in this enterprize.
After his early death in 1922, his friend, Jim McCulley, paid to have this inscription on his tombstone: "An honest man is the noblest work of God."
My Grandmother, Martha Jane "Tennessee" Tucker Gillum, "Mattie," came from very sturdy Tennessee stock. Her mother, while they still lived in Tennessee, had a baby brother lying on a quilt while the mother hung out clothes. A large wild hog made off with the baby, they could not chase him down, and the baby was eaten. She also had a brother killed by a runaway horse.
Mattie had a lot of trauma in her own life. As a teenager, a man broke into her house late at night. Mattie and her sister's screams brought her father and brother who, with the neighbor's help, chased the man down. He was lynched within the hour. Mattie moved in with her older sister, and the sister's husband, Harry Poynter, and lived with them until her marriage to John Wesley.
The Pope County Malitia war was just heating up, and Harry became a legendary figure in that war. He took Mattie and his wife up near Clarksville and hid them out in a mountain cave.
Harry faced three tough, armed men in a shootout in downtown Dover. Harry's gun spoke first, and one of the men "Bounced from his horse like a squirrel shot from a tree." The other two men shot at Harry, missed, and ran out of Dover being shot at many times. A 30 man posse was sent from Russelville to arrest Harry. They found him, leaning against a tree in downtown Dover, two six guns strapped on, a shotgun in his hand. They asked for Harry's guns. He replied, "I will give up my guns with my life, and the man who takes it will pay a heavy price." Apparently, no one wished to pay that price, so they went back to Russelville. The men of Dover had sworn that Harry would not be taken, and behind the scenes, the women of Dover had armed themselves, and vowed to fight for Harry to the end. I have detailed this war, in full, in my book.
John Wesley and Mattie had nine children. Their oldest son, Harry, died as a child. Arthur, the next, became one of the last, and one of the leading, traveling country doctors. He delivered me, misspelled my name, which has given me grief, since I never got a birth certificate until I got my passport.
Maude, the oldest daughter, Married Lee Carter, raised a large family at Wing. Lee once swam his horse across the Mississippi River, and hunted squirrels with an ax when it snowed, to save bullets. Just chop the tree down, run the squirrel down in the snow.
Hallie, the next daughter, became a Peabody College teacher. She was once in love, John Wesley intervened, and she never married. She ordered a Sears and Roebuck kit house, had it put 20 feet in front of her parents house. I was born and raised in that house.
Homer, the next son, became a farmer and cattleman at Wing. He kept his very large family alive during the Depression with a large garden. He drove his wagon to Plainview to get a 100 pound sack of sugar and flour on occasion.
John, My dad, was also a farmer, cattleman, and veteran of WW1. He and Homer were close, until someone's bull got in the wrong pasture. They stayed mad about this for years. Dad was 52 when I was born, an unexpected accident. I was the tail end of the generation, and most of my dozens of cousins, and many of my siblings, were grown and scattered to the four winds as I grew up.
Jimmy came along shortly after Dad, and he died as a boy, in 1903. Dad talked about him often, half a century later.
Franz was just not like the other Gillum men. He was a teacher, administrator, and ran a CCC camp during the depression. He had a job, so he fared better during that hard time that his siblings. He was a dreamer, a poet, a fisherman, and a fun guy.
Lula Belle, the first Gillum born at Wing in 1901, became somewhat of a difficult person. She married, had a child that died at two days old, and
had other stillborn babies. She began to treat her husband badly. They divorced, he remarried, and ironically, the new wife lies between Lula and her husband in the cemetery. Not her idea, I would bet. Lula belle was an accomplished piano player, and lived out her life, often at odds with her siblings, alone in a house behind our farm. But she always liked us kids. She could make the best mackerel salad! Lula Belle never had electricity, preferring the simple life.
My next post - two days. Thanks for reading!
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