A Post from the Past

Today I am going back to 2008 and the post I wrote on my great grandfather John Cecil Council. If you weren't one of my readers back then you might enjoy reading about my ancestors.

John Cecil Council, born in Barbour County, Alabama in 1833, was my great grandfather. He was the son of Temperance Weaver Council. John, in 1845, was one of the first settlers in Wakulla County Florida. He, along with his mother, his sister Susan Council and her husband, Boyet or Lott, either traveled with the Pelts and Poseys or arrived about the same time and they all settled in Crawfordville, Florida. John Cecil acquired a good bit of land around the county. He married Frances DeLaura Posey who birthed a large family before she died.

John then married Missouri Redd. She was referred to as Miss Missouri. The two of them raised a second large family.

At the age of 28, and with children at home, John joined the Florida Militia during the Civil War. He was captured off the coast near his home while fishing to provide food for his unit. The Union ships took him and others captured with him to Shipp Island, off the coast of Louisiana.

When the southern prisoners first arrived on Shipp Island, there were no barracks, only tents, no protection from the wind, rain and large mosquitoes that carried disease. John Council took a leadership role among the prisoners as they set about building their own huts and shelters.

Back home Fanny, his wife, along with a black woman helper kept the farm going and raised the crops and hogs and cattle. She picked the cotton and had it bailed. Fanny's first born was a daughter, Georgianne Council. (1857-1957) Like her mother, Georgianne was strong and resilient. She knew how to use a gun and tramped through the thick woods to kill game for the family.

Georgianne lived a long life. A one hundredth birthday party was held for her and written about in the Wakulla County newspaper, but I hear from cousin Sandra that her birth date might be in question. No matter. Aunt Georgianne was a real pioneer woman who could do the work of any man and actually the work of more than one man from what I've heard. More about her later.

John Cecil Council was highly respected in his community. He was one of the founders of a church in Wakulla County, and was a leader of that church. He lived a long life and fathered his last child when he was in his early seventies.

Over the years I've researched this great grandfather of mine, and I met his youngest daughter as well as hundreds of his descendants. I have copies of his military records, his pension papers, his last will and testament. I've collected stories I've heard about him and hope to one day put them together for my family members.

John Cecil's oldest son, Tom, was my grandfather. Tom and his wife Sarah (Sallie) head the family I write about in Profiles and Pedigrees, Thomas Charles Council and his Descendants.

In this marriage, Tom died young and left Sallie to carry on without him. Tom and Sallie raised ten children, Mae, Charlie, Maude, Oleo, Horace and Hortense (twins), Lillian, Annie, and Coy (my father). Their first born son, John Henry, died at the age of fourteen from malaria. He is buried in the Council Family Cemetery outside of Crawfordville, FL.

Since this was first posted in 2008, my brother Hal Council and his wife, Yvonne, moved down to Wakulla County and in 2010 both of them passed away within three months of each other. They are buried, also, in the Council Family Cemetery where John Cecil and both of his wives are interred. They rest near John Henry's grave. When Tom's family moved up to Georgia in the early 1900s, John Henry's brothers built a one foot wall made of sea shells surrounding his grave. That wall, showing their love for their brother, still stands today.



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Family is Fodder for our Stories

I had four brothers. Each one had a major impact on my life. I’ve written about them in  memoir and in my poetry. As poet and teacher Scott Owens said, if we make a list of all of our family members, we can use them as fodder for our writing and we will never run out of subjects.

Hal Council

Last weekend our family gathered to honor and celebrate the life of my brother Hal who died suddenly and unexpectedly in August. His grandson, Sam, delivered a moving and eloquent eulogy. He summed up special moments with the man he called Da, his grandfather. He had labored over the words he had written in his effort to speak not only his feelings but those of his mother, his aunt and his cousin. He made us laugh and also brought tears to our eyes

I probably won’t remember much of the service, but this young man’s words will stay with me for a long time. I know Hal would have been pleased to know that his children and grandchildren loved him, admired him and remembered the many happy times they had enjoyed with him. I was happy his eulogy was not all about his career, although he was a very successful business man. We heard instead of how he played with his grandchildren, spoiled them, and encouraged them to reach high for their goals. He lent a helping hand to others in the community who were in need and was appreciated by all who knew him.

I can write a number of stories about Hal. One of his most loveable traits was how he turned fiascos into hilarious adventures. He and his pretty wife, Yvonne, Barry and I went to the Georgia – Florida football game (the world's largest cocktail party) one year. Not known for his punctuality, Hal waited too late to get reservations at a decent hotel. We ended up in a moldy, smelly place called the Floridan across from the bus station.

To get to our rooms on the third floor, we had to take the elevator which must have been installed 100 years before. A small woman with iron-gray hair and deep lines etched in her brown face perched on a stool by the controls. Like everyone in Jacksonville that day, she was drunk as a skunk. Pulling a lever, she did her best to line up the door of the elevator with the opening on the third floor. We lurched up and then dropped like a rock. We lurched up again and dropped again. Over and over, she struggled to get the floor of the elevator even with the floor we were to step out on.

Hal teased the wizened little woman saying, “You know how to drive this thing?”

She cut her eyes up at him and said, “I get you there. Just hold on.”  She pulled on the lever and we zoomed up a few feet. She pulled again and we dropped a foot at the time.
I, being the worrier of the group, feared the ancient relic, its operator and all of us, were about to drop to the bottom of the building.

Hal said, “You might need a drink. You got anything to drink?”

She pulled a half-empty whiskey bottle from her pocket and held it up for him to see. We laughed at the smug expression on her face. Hal began to badger her to give him a drink, but she couldn’t be talked out of a drop of her liquor.

Hal and Barry found the entire scenario humurous and especially the old woman. They kept her talking with their banter but she finally managed to line up the spaces enough we could get off.

That was how our  wild weekend started. A football game weekend we talked about for years. The bad weather, the crowds and any inconvenience we had did not bother Hal. When he told about it later, he had his listeners wishing they had been with us at the Floridan trying to sleep with the bus station neon light blinking off and on in our windows and bus destinations and departures resounding throughout the night.

Hal said he never felt stressed in his life – not until his wife became seriously ill. He stayed with her day and night at the hospital and in rehab while she recovered from hip surgery. He came home that Sunday morning to change clothes and go back. While putting on his shoes, he collapsed with a heart attack.

I have other stories about my life with my brother, Hal. Do you have family members who could become characters in your stories?  Could you write a poem about them?

Taking Risks, Overcoming Fear

When trying times like serious illness happens, both parties of a relationship begin remembering those long ago days of youth. Nostalgia permeates every conversation.

I want us to plan for the future, but at this stage in our lives, we often look back and wish we had done things differently. We see the past through the eyes of wisdom gained by making mistakes.

We were both afraid to follow our dreams. We dug ourselves a rut in the road of life. We dug ourselves so deep we couldn't see over the sides to what we could have accomplished. Fear is the biggest enemy of most people. I have always admired people who did not let their lives be dictated by fear.

We could have left our comfort zone. We could have reached our potential when we were young, but we were afraid to leave our “security” blanket --the familiar -- the family.

My father must have been scared to death when he finally made the big step and signed his name on a note to buy a hardscrabble farm in 1942. He left behind job security, the only work he knew, and his entire family sacrificed so he could follow his dream. My mother's faith in him enhanced his courage to go for it.

My brother Hal was not afraid to reach for the gold ring. He won some and sometimes he lost, but he never quit.
It took faith in his ability to strike out on his own when he had a family to support. It required guts to stand up and say to his father and his brothers, his business partners, "I'm going it alone. I can do better than this."

He left the farm and became an entrepreneur. I think of him as a visionary. His ambition and ideas for success led him and his brothers from agriculture into manufacturing. In time the small family business became a national enterprise, and the largest of its kind. Those who had feared taking risks became gamblers in their own right, and all became financially successful far beyond their wildest dreams. And it all began when Hal said he wanted more for his family and for his life, and he was ready to take a risk. He led the way, the family farm became the collateral, and all members climbed on board this train heading for the mountain top.

Sometimes when we look back, we see the past in a different light. Sometimes these backward glances give us a new perspective on what happened at the time. Those dreamers, those who take on the challenges, should be rewarded for overcoming fear and doubt and persevering for the good of themselves and for the good of others. But all we can give Hal is a big thank you.