Grandma's Milk Cows

 GRANDMA GILLUM WAS LEFT A WIDOW after the death of my grandpa, John Wesley in 1922.  She still worked very hard raising her large flock of chickens. She once bought my annt Lula Bell a car with money saved up from her egg sales.  The eggs were sold to the "chicken peddler." She also had cattle, and among them she had four milk cows. During that time, most of the cattle roamed the free range south mountains. Some people grew corn in the bottoms, along the river. A likely scenario here was, the cattle got into someone's unfenced corn patch. Possibly in retribution, Grandma's milk cows were stolen. Chances are, the wild mountain cattle could not be taken, but the tame milk cows would be easy prey. That's a possible scenario. All we really know for sure was that Grandma's four milk cows were stolen. Someway, somehow, someone must have thought he saw them in another man's possession. But, that man made a very serious mistake. He said they were his. Grandma needed help, and she knew just the man.

     From all I have heard about Grandma Gillum she was a wise, hard, and strong woman.  She had grown sons, hard and mature, around her, but for this milk cow thief, she needed a specialist. Indeed she knew one; the man who raised her, sister Dozie's husband, W. H. “Harry” Poynter. Harry must have been getting up in years by this time, probably in his seventies. The time frame here must have been near the mid 1920's, because my uncle Homer spoke of this event around 1928 as something that occurred a few years earlier.

     Though Uncle Harry was now an old man, he had a very, very colorful past. During the Civil war, he fought in many hard battles for the South. And, during the Reconstruction, he was a legendary figure in the Pope County Militia War, which I call “Uncle Harry's Little War.” During that war, he once took on three men in a gunfight in downtown Dover; the county sheriff, his deputy, and the county clerk,  killing one and running the other two out of town, chased by much flying lead. An over-the-body inquest was held, and harry was found innocent. This did not fly in Ressellville, however. He later faced down a thirty man posse, sent from Russellville to arrest him, with the words, “I will only give up my guns with my life, and make the man who takes it pay a heavy price.” This also took place in downtown Dover. After much discussion by the posse, the posse went home without Harry. Once the Reconstruction was over, Harry became a leading citizen of Dover, became rich, and founded the Bank of Dover. He remained close to Grandma for the rest of his life.

 Uncle Harry came over to Wing and set out to find the thief. Some were able to give him a pretty good idea about where to start, I would imagine.  After a time, he came back with the milk cows.  No questions asked, no answers given. The law investigated, because a man had come up missing.  The Law wished to question grandma about the missing man, I am told. But he chose not to do that. I could never understand that when my dad related that to me. Why would he not wish to question a very old, fragile woman?  Could it be, because she was very close to a very dangerous man?

     Harry died around 1930, and grandma lived on, running the Gillum clan with an iron hand until 1941. I was born in her house in 1944.

     I have a photo taken at Grandma’s eighty second birthday party, in 1941. She is surround by the entire Gillum family, 30+ strong.  Except me. I would not be born until three years later. Only one member of Harry’s family was present at that party. The connection between the Gillums and the Dover Poynters died that year with Grandma, it seems. But not completely. My oldest brother was named Harry. My other brother was named Harold, a form of the name Harry. I was named, I am told, after the smartest man in the Valley. The only one who could repair a radio.

    These were the people who surrounded me, and loved me, as I grew up. Only four survive today.

     Hold your family members close, and love them with all your heart. Life is short.