Must Run In The Blood

Roy Terry

I can recall my father spinning some tall tales as I was growing up. He was a fount of short little stories, silly little songs, and witty retorts.  Which was strange because he did not talk much most of the time.  Sometimes, though, like a coffee pot boiling over things came to the surface.  I have always blamed his mother's Irish roots for his bouts of spontenaity and her German side for his silence!   Every generation had some kind of Celtic roots - be it Ireland or Scotland - and so the basic idea was always possible they were the cause of those tall tales and stories.

For many years, I have been a storyteller traveling here and there sharing tales with children, adults and families in a variety of settings (schools, churches, community events, and libraries).  Imagine my delight when doing some family history research I uncovered a brother to my father's great-great grandmother.  The Ennis family had come from County Westmeath, by way of Dublin about 1730.  Elizabeth Ennis was the only daughter of James Ennis, b. in Virginia and had brothers Zachariah, Ezekiel, Martin, William, John, Jesse, and perhaps others.

In the History of Greene and Jersery Counties, Illinois (1885) contains a sketch on what is believed to be this same Jesse.   Imagine my delight as a I read.  "Mr. Ennis, while a strictly honest and conscientious man, was rather noted in this locality for his aptitude for pretty tough yarns.  One of these was, in describing the timber of this country, he said that he had cut down a sumach tree, from he split out some fourteen joists for a house. At another time he related a long story about taking the fiddle and sitting down near some rocks commenced to play, whereupon thousands of snakes came out of their dens, as they will, and that laying about with a club he killed some three thousand of them Many other stories he did tell all dealing in the same exaggerations." (80).

Anyone familiar with Irish folklore can detect the corpus of tales about the Irish Hercules, Cú Chulainn and numerous other familiar motifs which had no doubt fed his imagination as a youth and entertained the community as an elderly man.

SORRY I NEVER KNEW YOU...

Sometimes one of the hardest parts of family research is the sense of loss.  Of people never known, of stories never heard , of jokes never laughed at, or family lore never learned.   Here is a picture of my fathers brothers and sisters I never had the chance to meet or get to know much as I was growing up. This photo was taken on the day of my father's funeral...

Siblings of Roy D. Terry, l toR: Ada Terry Norwood, Sister  Lola Terry, Brother Claude Terry, Opal Terry, sister.

BARRY COUNTY BOY: Roy Dennis Terry (1910-1987)

An Interview with Roy Dennis Terry (1910-1987) recorded ca. 1983 while visiting with his son Dennis Terry in Wellington, Kansas. Roy was the child of Wesley Sartin Terry and his wife Edna Maggie Boyd Terry. Roy worked for over 3o years for Boeing Aircraft of Wichita and helped construct two of the first "Air Force One' craft. In his spare time he raised and competed pedigree Beagles through his kennel, Slate Creek.

“I was born near Butterfield, Missouri on a little 40 acre farm a mile and a half northeast of town, in a one room log cabin and lived there until I was five . They then (my parents) built a new house. It was not a log cabin but was made of pinewood. It was on the same forty acres only in a different location than the log house.

When I was three years old, mom, Edith, my baby sister, and me were at the house when the house caught fire on the roof. Mom told me to go down to the cornfield (about a half a quarter [mile] from the house) and call dad. I ran down there and just calmly told dad ‘there’s a big blaze on the house”. Dad dropped everything and run to the house and put out the fire.

I remember when I was just three years, before we moved from the log cabin, we had a horse that got tangled up in some barbed wire and cut itself and bled to death. It must have made a big impression on me for I can’t remember the horse at all. Also, Dad had gathered the popcorn in this box on the sled with a box on it that he hauled things in and pulled by a horse. Dad gathered the popcorn in this box on the sled. I seen this popcorn and thought it was the most popcorn I ever saw in my life, of course it was a lot of corn. We always had a lot of popcorn balls, and made sorghum candy called taffy at taffy pulling times. This was the land of treats we had.

When I was about three Mom always milked the cow. My job was to go out when she milked and watch Edith who was about a year and a half old and sat on a pallet on the ground. She reached over on the ground and found some dried cow chips and started to eat it, so I helped her find some more until Mom came and caught me. I don’t remember the tune she played on me but it left a big impression I won’t forget.

The fall I was five years old we moved from the log cabin to the new pine house. They had to move the stove wood in, so I went along every trip. On the way, we had to pass a yellow jacket nest and I would get stung, but by the time they were ready for the next load I was ready to go again. Got stung every trip but managed to go every time they went.

The first summer we lived in the new house dad cut down a tree in the yard, which was at the edge of the woods. He left a log laying there and Grandpa came up the road. About this time, we saw a snake by the log and it crawled right over Grandpa’s toes, he just calmly moved it over with his walking stick and went on. Don’t know where the snake went. I think it was a blue racer.

When I was seven years old my cousin Oscar TERRY was getting ready to go to the army. His dad was Kelso Terry and they lived in Rago, Kansas. He rode a motorcycle down to Missouri with his father. He had a about 30 days left. He brought me a set of dominoes and taught me how to play. I got where I could play pretty good. I kept those dominoes for years after that.

Back in those days we were all poor and about all we had was bread and flour gravy. I saved the family from starvation because we had one big old spoon that mom stirred the gravy with. Well, the oldest child, Clyde, helped stir the gravy; he was right handed. Then Pearl came along and she stirred with the spoon and was right handed. By this time the spoon was wore clear to the middle from that right side. My folks couldn't’ afford to buy another so they didn’t know what they would do. Then I came along and was left handed, so I started stirring the gravy with my left hand. So, we were in business again. I saved the family!

When I was about ten years old, they were cutting cord wood. That is wood four feet long and used to heat boilers with. They were cutting it right in front of our house and stacking it four feet each way. At that time there was a man the law was looking for and they all came out there and was looking for him where the cordwood was stacked, guess they thought he was hiding in the wood. We were real excited about all of this; we had never seen a desperado or a hunt for one. I don’t know if they ever caught him or not.

The only time I was ever really scared of the dark was when I was about twelve years old. My sister Pearl and brother Clyde and I walked down to Gunter, where they were having band practice. While we were there word came that the little town of Butterfield was on fire and the business district was burning up. So all of the older ones jumped into buggies and went to see the fire. All but me. I was left there alone. It was only one and it was only a quarter mile but seemed like ten. Every time I took a step, it sounded like there was a step behind me. And I could hear all sorts of noises like hoot owls and everything else you could imagine. This was the first time I was ever out alone at night. By the time I came to my aunts house I was scared pink. But I borrowed a lantern to go the rest of the way home.

A year or two later I was going to school, and I always took my lunch in a syrup bucket. Well, mom also kept her clabbered milk in a syrup bucket. I ran through the house and grabbed my bucket and away I went to school. About half way there I heard a noise like my lunch was splattering, so I looked at it and you guessed it, I had a bucket full of clabbered milk! I threw it over the fence and done without lunch that day. So the rest of the year they called me ‘clabber milk.’

My last year of school in Butterfield there was a kid there who was real little. One recess he didn’t come in the schoolhouse. He hid under the school and made noises pecking on the floor. The teacher sent me to see what was making the noise. I found him under the school and told him he better go on home because the teacher was looking for him. I didn’t tell her I found him. So, the boy went on home and caught it the next day from the teacher.

The first date I had, I went with Clyde to a band concert. I was to take this girl home and took her home in the buggy and in the meantime, Claude had made a date to take his girl home. When he came out to take his girl home, the buggy was gone. So I really caught it from him.

It wasn’t just that I was such a bad boy, it was just that all the things I did and thought were funny, no one else thought they were funny at all.

One time I walked up to the Bradley’s store to get some gas for my old Model “T” car. The store was closed when I was there I knocked. Had to knock several times. Finally, the door was opened and three guys were standing there with guns. Boy, those guns were big. They had heard the store was going to be robbed but of course, I didn’t know this. I was probably about eighteen then.

I was raised on cornbread and the hoe handle, and the reason I never got any bigger than I did was I got more of the hoe handle than the cornbread. The only difference between me and George Washington was he president and I never was.

MARTIN AND MARY ANN TERRY (1814-1890)

MARTIN TERRY (FRANCIS MARTIN?) 1814-1890
Martin TERRY (William, John, William) was born the same year that Francis Scott Key’s Star Spangled Banner was composed. He was born on Tuesday, 25 October 1814, in Gibson County, Indiana as the third child of William and Barbara ENNIS TERRY. As just as young man of eighteen, he moved with his family in the spring of 1832 to southwest Arkansas. There, Martin met Mary Ann REED and they were married on 9 April 1835 in Illinois Township, Washington Co., Arkansas. In 1839, his brother John married Mary An REED’s sister, Lucinda King REED. There is a Martin TERRY on the Benton Co., Arkansas tax list of 1835-1837 and on Washington Co., in 1838.

The wives were the daughters of Joseph (1783-1855) and Mary “Polly” KING REED (1786-1843) had both come from Kentucky (they had been married in Livingston Co., Ky) into northwest Arkansas, according to John Terry’s family bible. Joseph had made an early foray into old Doaksville and Fort Towson in Indian Territory (SE Oklahoma between 1817-1820. He may have also been in Hempstead Co., Arkansas. They moved into NW Arkansas in 1829 and stayed there until 1839 when they joined son-in-law and daughter in Red River Co., Texas. There they settled just northwest of Clarksville. Joseph may have served in the Kentucky Militia of the War of 1812. There is a sergeant in that group and he may be the man on the roll of Capt. James Love’s 6nRegiment, enlisting 1 September 1812.

Martin and Mary Ann Terry lived in a time of rapid technological changes. During the time they resided in Madison Co., Arkansas, the new steam locomotive was appearing and on the nearby river ways, according to family letter of the time, steamboats traveled them bringing supplies and people. Later in life, Martin would hear of the telephone (with two of his sons bringing the first lines into Barry Co, Missouri.
Despite all the progressive moves of technology and science, Martin and Mary Ann saw many seams of the American national fabric unraveling. Conflicts over the question of slavery were driving the country (especially after the 1836 ‘Gag Resolutions’) and caused the split in the Methodist Episcopal Church. The split was simply a portent of forces festering throughout the country and rapidly increasing tensions erupted in April 1861 as the Civil War began.

Martin had wanted to move to Texas in the 1850’s but the economy in Arkansas prevented it. His disappointment at the setbacks haunts several of the letters from the time. Northwest Arkansas suffered repeated depressions in the wake of the Great Depression of the 1830’s. Many left Arkansas to try their luck in Oregon or California, especially once tales of gold came back. After the death of Joseph reed in 1855, the desire to go to Texas was even stronger and began to make those plans. However, further setbacks arose and they moved instead north into southern Missouri.

Yet, something was stirring over the landscape. Could they have heard it, they would have recognized the drumming of horses hooves, and the pounding of marching feet as two armies moved into place.

William Terry (1785-1869)

In a letter written between two of his sons (Martin and John) in 1854, Martin described his father by writing:

"Father minds me of the little boy that went in the field to move stones and notwithstanding the ground was covered with as such he could easily move he went to a rock which mite be a spur of some neighboring mountain there heaved and set till exhausted all his energies without being able to afffect anything [.] In like manner father suffers his mind to be troubled about things he cannot help and had consequently better let alone...." 10 July 1854

Possibly the pragmatic words of a son about a dreamer father too often frustrated by the elusiveness of personal vision. As such it may be taken with a grain of salt but might also provide a clear and thought provoking epitaph to the life of a man who always seemed to be headed toward the next hill and the new horizon.

Chronology of the Life of William Terry:

1785- born in Hawkins Co. area of Old Sullivan Co., TN (area then known as the State of Franklin by many and covered several nearby state lands); parents John and Esther Brown Terry

1795 - 10 year of age

1805 - 20 years of age and possibly living in Kentucky

1807 - Marries Barbara Ennis, probably in Kentucky ; she has a brother John Ennis and her sister Nancy marries a brother of William's, John Terry and they settle in Indiana

1808 - first born child

1812 - start the move to Indiana

1814- son Martin (some think Francis Martin Terry) born in Gibson Co., Ind

1819 - William listed on land entries for Gibson Co.

1830 - William and John Terry listed with a John Ennis on census in Gibson Co.

1832 - Arrives in Arkansas

1840 - Wm Terry listed in Madison Co., Ark

1850 - Wm Terry on Madison Co., Ark census

1854 - Moved to 12 miles west of Fayettevile, Ark

1860 - Visits son John Terry in Red River Co., TX is enumerated on census there

1861 - Visting in SW Missouri, move to Barry Co., Mo

1863 - Visiting with married children in Mo.

1869 - Visiting with children in Greene Co., Mo; dies and is buried on that land; location unknown.

WAR IS HELL ON EVERYBODY

The family of Martin and Mary Ann Reed Terry had just migrated from northern Arkansas into Barry Co., Missouri when the Civil war, almost literally, exploded in their back yard. Where they had recently left armies were surging northward. The northern forces were moving down from the north and the east.

The family, like most of the region, was now dogged by hardship and sorrow over the next few years. The war struck hard taking both lands and lives. Martin and his family fled their home 23 July 1861 as troops massed in the area just north of Barry Co., Mo. All around the area of their old Arkansas home, and the friends and family still there, the war raged. Battles such as "Pea Ridge", "Wilson's Creek", "Prairie Grove", and "Carthage" meant that they lived as refugees scurrying back and forth trying to keep out of the way of both sides.

September saw Martin and family in northeast Missouri trying to escape the sweeping ravages of war. However, the large numbers of homeless families and moving soldiers had left in their wake a different kind of killing field. A battlefield where illness and not bullets took an awful toll on the family:

"We left home July 23 and stopt in Casconde County 40 miles from her the 19 of Sept. There we was nearly all sick and William and Henderson died William on the 9 of October and Henderson on the 16 of November and the fever settled in your mother's rite eye and it went out. Our disease was considered low typhus. We had the best medical help the country could afford, but no human help could avail. William said tell friends I die in view of a blissful immortality and that is worth all the world to me and Henderson said he trusted the savior and was not afraid to die and he expected to get to heaven and we have a sweet hope that they are forever at rest. We came up here yesterday with the intention of going on to Springfield but in view of everything we think it not to be the best at this time. We have been on the wear and tear ever since we left home and like many others we are pretty well ruined. We yet have our wagon and 4 head of horses and a yoke of cattle whether we stay here or come up to Springfield or go on to Ioway I know not. We should be glad to hear from you and our little [touch of home?] there what became of it. These are the times that try mens soles be faithful to the grace given." --Martin Terry, writing from Rollo, Phelps Co., Mo to his son John King Terry, dated 3 April 1862.

Martin would later settled back into Barry Co., Mo, serving even as a justice of the peave in Capps Creek Township beginning in July 1866. Martin Terry died 2 Feb. 189 in Barry Co., Mo. and was buried in the Arnhart Cemetery located near the hamlet of Purdy. His wife, Mary Ann Reed Terry died three years later on 3 July 1893.

[Hudson, Marilyn A. Terry Trails. 1995; unpublished manuscript. Permission to use transcribed letters 1994, Ruth Terry Preston to Marilyn A. Hudson]

TERRY'S AND EARLY METHODISM: A POSSIBLE CONNECTION

One of the fundamental elements in any family's evolution is the influence of religion in crafting their traditions, values, and daily life. Like vines, the religious and secular histories are often intertwined. Any attempt to understand the one divorced from the other is often a sure guarantee valuable insights will be lost. Understanding a family's religious history is to understand many of theirmotivations and subsequent actions with far greater clarity.

Evidence from several private records reveal Terry lines that indicate religion was taken seriously. Some joined the Disciples of Christ, Baptist, and other groups, yet there are intriguing clues that seem to suggest some of these early Terry's had a connection to early American Methodism. Not surprising for a group that at one time could claim a church in every county, yet the details are fascinating and illuminate migration and family stories.

William Terry, resident of Boteourt Co. married Rachel Manson on 3 Feb. 1759 in Christ Church in Philadelphia. It was part of the Church of England and, after the Revolution, the group from which the Angelican Church emerged.

The spread of Methodism in America parallels the trek of the early pioneers such as Daniel Boone (who cleared the trail into then largely unknown Kentucky in the late 1700's). The early Methodist preachers were not far behind such pioneers. Even before the formal organization of the "American Methodist Church" or the "Methodist Episcopal Church" (1784), there existed an early circuit (a regular route traveled by one minister in order to preach, baptize, and marry) known as the "Holstein Circuit" (Norwood). It covered the area of NE Tennessee, and SW Virginia through which John Terry, son of William, and his wife Esther Brown Terry migrated circa 1790. Other circuits would form, interestingly enough, in Botetourt Co.,Va, in Kentucky, and southern Indiana. All locations into which John Terry and kin were known to have moved.

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  The "father" of American Methodism, Frances Asbury (1745-1816) traveled some of those same areas of Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, and Tennessee on his own circuit journeys of the late 1700's and early 1800's. His journal records that in 1786 he stopped at "Terry's" on the border of Fairfield and Chester Co. Cited, re notes, as "Tar Yard" on some old maps. In 1807 he stopped at "Terry's" in the upper part of Greenville Co., near Marietta. The notes indicate this should not be confused with the Terry at Fork Shoals 20 miles below Greenville in NC. An 1833 letter reporting on ministerial activities noted "...my first efforts were in Botetourt, Holston, and New River Circuits 40 years ago [1793]...I kept up with [information?] Viz. Nathaniel Tery 4 miles distant in the bent of James River. (Clark, Journal and Letters of Francis Asbury, vol 1.;pg. 446,507,374-75,574).


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  Many of the early Tery letters reveal people of great faith, living as best they could by their moral convictions and standards. They bear witness of the faith to their relatives, relations, and from their deathbeds. An interest in the church and religious matters was evidenced early as revealed by an 1848 letter of William Terry (1785-1869, son of John), to his son John Terry in Red River Co., Texas:"...our preacher is not onto circuits again and that brother Standford is presiding elder in place of brother Harrol and that brother Harrol is stationed at Little Rock." According to the North Arkansas Conference, United Methodist Church, Commission on Archives and History, the 13th session of the conference was held in 1848. The event recorded that a John Hormel served the Little Rock Station. A Russell M. Morgan served the Huntsville Church in the Fayetteville district in 1848, and Thomas Stanford was Presiding Elder of the Fayetteville District.


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  Another interesting thing to note relates to names. William's son Martin is thought by some to have also bear the name Francis; this could relate to the "Swamp Fox" of Revolutionary fame or to the early Methodist leader. There is evidence of naming for both in several lines. A strong point of support may be he named one of his sons Lorenz (or Lorenzo) Dow Terry (1845-1894). Lorenz Dow was a fiery, evangelical preacher and one-time Methodist who crisscrossed the early circuit locales of Tennessee and Kentucky in the early years of the nineteenth century. It is not beyond the realm of possibility that at some point the paths of Terry's and Dow actually intersected.


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  Certain letters of Martin Terry from the 1850s-1870s reveal a man of strong moral convictions. He comments about the need for prohibition in the Ozarks to curtail the victimization produced in order to create a market for liquer. The problem was the quality of the product sold was often literally deadly and many families were ruined by the death or addictions which resulted. He also had strong political views but that is for another study.


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  Martin and his brother John married sisters;Mary Ann and Lucinda Reed were children of Joseph Reed, and a transcript of an oral history project interview with a descendent of this same Reed states he was a Methodist minister. Reed went to Red River, Texas in 1839 and with him was John Terry, whose biography includes mention of a long membership in the Methodist Episcopal South Church. [see "Fine Points of History" interview with Juanita Stiles Cornwell of Clarksville (1980) in East Texas University Archives pg.10,104.;Biographical Souvinir of the State of Texas (1880),pg.817,794-5].


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  Joseph Reed is an interesting study in himself. He is probably a nephew or cousin of a Rev. Joseph Reed/Reid who accompanied the noted Rev. Stephenson into the area of Red River County, Texas between 1817-1820, a time when our Joseph Reed was also in the area.(Steely, Six months from Tennesse, 1982) This other early Reed also came out of Kentucky and Tennesse and resided in Hempstead, Arkansas for a time. He was a slave owning minister, a vocal supporter of the south, and thus part of the split creating the Methodist Episcopal and Methodist Episcopal South prior to the Civil War. Our Reed died in TX in 1839 but from the letters and notations in a family Bible he was in Oklahoma and Indian Territory (Ft. Towson) prior to 1830.


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  Letters of the 1860's and 1870's mention Methodism in relation to meetings or revivals in areas of their southwest Missouri relatives. Also mentioned are Cumberland Presybeterians (Reed may have been associated with them as well for a time) and Baptists.


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  In one letter dated 9 Nov. 1877, William's daughter, Matilda Terry Ennis, is said to "be one of our liveliest preachers" and a "Northern Methodist". It is possible she was a "deaconess" or merely a very active church woman, but it is interesting to note that in the Holiness Movement of the same period noted Phoebe Palmer, for example, was part of many revival efforts in the New York period from as early as 1857. This reveals a trend toward greater female participation - and some acceptance of the same - among some groups of Methodists.


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  The ten year silence between the two Terry brothers during and after the Civil War has been attributed to the devastation and rebuilding of the conflict. The conflict took a heavy toll on the families as both sides contributed family to the cause or lost family as part of the illnesses that followed the troops. It may be, however, that once again religion plays an important role in interpreting the silence as the result of conflicting theological and ideological views. Martin's line in Missorui had clear connections to the North via "Northern Methodist" church membership and John in Texas was connected to the "Methodist Episcopal South". This allegiance reveals that probably the brothers took two different sides in the conflict (and military records seem to support this). The wording of the letter that broke the silence (written by the wives) suggest something beyond disrupted mails was at fault. The letter dated 27 September 1867 reads in part: "I am no politician and take no part in political controversy and I exceedingly regret the unhappy circumstances that has made such a deep and lasting wounds in the minds of those that once was friends and are bound by the nearest and dearest ties of kindred relation." The fact the letter was written by Martin's wife to her sister, and the fact she notes the severing of family ties, seems to pointedly highlight the silence was brought on by more than merely the hardship and grief of war. It may have been caused by differences of deep idealogical and theological significance to the brothers.


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  John King Terry, Martin's son was married in 1861 in Cassville, Mo by "Methodist minister, Keith Hankins" (County record/Civil war pension record).


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  There is a persistent story that Martin was a minister as well. No definitive records exist but if he were a Methodist he may have been a lay pastor and records for those individuals were not usually kept at the time. However, the area of the Ozarks where Martin lived was well known as a place difficult to keep ministers and a tradition of lay ministers evolved in many locations, including Barry Co. This may be what is referred to by the oral tradition. [Clark. Ozark Baptizings, hangings, and other diversions, 1984, pg. 78, 98, 147].

Further research may minimize or correct any Terry connections to early Methodism, but at this point the cumulative evidence presents a strong case for the serious consideration of this relationship, no matter how short-lived. It certainly serves to clarify the dominate role that religion played in the areas through which all the Terry lines traveled on their way west to Missorui.

Marilyn A. Terry Hudson, 1993.

Marilyn holds a B.A. degree in History and a Masters in Library and Information Studies. Image was taken at the Wesley House, London, and shows the prayer room of John Wesley.

ELMWOOD: TERRY HOME OF BOTETOURT CO., VIRGINIA

According to many researchers this house was the home of the Terry's in what is now Roanoke, VA. It served as the recreation offices of the city in 1944 and later the main library but was demolished in 1964 as the and the libraries grew ( public library). The area is known as Elmwood Park. The last Terry to reside there on South Jefferson Street was the town's first millionaire, Peyton L. Terry. According to one source, Peyton acquired "Elmwood" in 1868 after the Civil War. Other sources indicate he was the son of a Stephen Terry and there had been a "Elmwood" ikn Pittsylvania Co.. Continuing research will clarify the connection as valid or just a really good story.

Peyton Leftwich Terry of the Pittsylvania Co. Va area, was the descendent of Steven (1805-), son of William (1777-1815), son of Stephen (1750-1802), son of Zachariah (1725-1767 and all in the same Pittsylvania Co., Va area) who may have been the son of a James Terry (dates and location unknown). His wife, Mary Terry, wrote a book, "Big Lick Homefront: 1861-1865" written in 1898.

Although connection to this home is still possible due to many unanswered family history questions. from the information about the last Terry resident (who may or may not have named it), it would appear that there is no clear connection to the Peyton L. Terry of Elmwood and the line of this page.

The TERRY line of this page goes back to William (b. Ct?) and Rachel Manson Terry (early pioneer and Rev. War Soldier in Botetourt Co., VA and the Big Lick/Black Creek area). He owned land there at least as early as the mid-1700's. His son John Terry (wife Esther Brown) who settled in Perry County, Indiana and was also a Rev. War soldier, to William and Barbara Ennis Terry, Martin and Mary Ann Reed Terry, John King and Mary Ann Riddle Terry, and Wesley Sartin and Edna Maggie Boyd Terry.

The family tended to be very prolific and to be westward bound - with many lines being the first settlers in numerous locations, from Kentucky to Texas and beyond.

Roy D Terry, ca.1912 - Oral History

Shown here with his grandmother..

An Interview with Roy Dennis Terry (1910-1987) recorded ca. 1983 while visiting with his son Dennis Terry in Wellington, Kansas. Roy was the child of Wesley Sartin Terry and his wife Edna Maggie Boyd Terry:

“I was born near Butterfield, Missouri on a little 40 acre farm a mile and a half northeast of town, in a one room log cabin and lived there until I was five . They then (my parents) built a new house. It was not a log cabin but was made of pinewood. It was on the same forty acres only in a different location than the log house.

When I was three years old, mom, Edith, my baby sister, and me were at the house when the house caught fire on the roof. Mom told me to go down to the cornfield (about a half a quarter [mile] from the house) and call dad. I ran down there and just calmly told dad ‘there’s a big blaze on the house”. Dad dropped everything and run to the house and put out the fire.

I remember when I was just three years, before we moved from the log cabin, we had a horse that got tangled up in some barbed wire and cut itself and bled to death. It must have made a big impression on me for I can’t remember the horse at all. Also, Dad had gathered the popcorn in this box on the sled with a box on it that he hauled things in and pulled by a horse. Dad gathered the popcorn in this box on the sled. I seen this popcorn and thought it was the most popcorn I ever saw in my life, of course it was a lot of corn. We always had a lot of popcorn balls, and made sorghum candy called taffy at taffy pulling times. This was the land of treats we had.

When I was about three Mom always milked the cow. My job was to go out when she milked and watch Edith who was about a year and a half old and sat on a pallet on the ground. She reached over on the ground and found some dried cow chips and started to eat it, so I helped her find some more until Mom came and caught me. I don’t remember the tune she played on me but it left a big impression I won’t forget.

The fall I was five years old we moved from the log cabin to the new pine house. They had to move the stove wood in, so I went along every trip. On the way, we had to pass a yellow jacket nest and I would get stung, but by the time they were ready for the next load I was ready to go again. Got stung every trip but managed to go every time they went.

The first summer we lived in the new house dad cut down a tree in the yard, which was at the edge of the woods. He left a log laying there and Grandpa came up the road. About this time, we saw a snake by the log and it crawled right over Grandpa’s toes, he just calmly moved it over with his walking stick and went on. Don’t know where the snake went. I think it was a blue racer.
When I was seven years old my cousin Oscar TERRY was getting ready to go to the army. His dada was Kelso Terry and they lived in Rago, Kansas. He rode a motorcycle down to Missouri with his father. He had a about 30 days left. He brought me a set of dominoes and taught me how to play. I got where I could play pretty good. I kept those dominoes for years after that.
Back in those days we were all poor and about all we had was bread and flour gravy. I saved the family from starvation because we had one big old spoon that mom stirred the gravy with. Well, the oldest child, Clyde, helped stir the gravy; he was right handed. Then Pearl came along and she stirred with the spoon and was right handed. By this time the spoon was wore clear to the middle from that right side. My folks couldn’t afford to buy another so they didn’t know what they would do. Then I came along and was left handed, so I started stirring the gravy with my left hand. So, we were in business again. I saved the family!

When I was about ten years old, they were cutting cord wood. That is wood four feet long and used to heat boilers with. They were cutting it right in front of our house and stacking it four feet each way. At that time there was a man the law was looking for and they all came out there and was looking for him where the cordwood was stacked, guess they thought he was hiding in the wood. We were real excited about all of this; we had never seen a desperado or a hunt for one. I don’t know if they ever caught him or not.

The only time I was ever really scared of the dark was when I was about twelve years old. My sister Pearl and brother Clyde and I walked down to Gunter, where they were having band practice. While we were there word came that the little town of Butterfield was on fire and the business district was burning up. So all of the older ones jumped into buggies and went to see the fire. All but me. I was left there alone. It was only one and a quarter miles but seemed like ten. Every time I took a step, it sounded like there was a step behind me. And I could hear all sorts of noises like hoot owls and everything else you could imagine. This was the first time I was ever out alone at night. By the time I came to my aunts house I was scared pink. But I borrowed a lantern to go the rest of the way home.

A year or two later I was going to school, and I always took my hunch in a syrup bucket. Well, mom also kept her clabbered milk in a syrup bucket. I ran through the house and grabbed my bucket and away I went to school. About half way there I heard a noise like my lunch was splattering, so I looked at it and you guessed it, I had a bucket full of clabbered milk! I threw it over the fence and done without lunch that day. So the rest of the year they called me ‘clabber milk.’

My last year of school in Butterfield there was a kid there who was real little. One recess he didn’t come in the schoolhouse. He hid under the school and made noises pecking on the floor. The teacher sent me to see what was making the noise. I found him under the school and told him he better go on home because the teacher was looking for him. I didn’t tell her I found him. So, the boy went on home and caught it the next day from the teacher.

The first date I had, I went with Clyde to a band concert. I was to take this girl home and took her home in the buggy and in the meantime, Claude had made a date to take his girl home. When he came out to take his girl home, the buggy was gone. So I really caught it from him.

It wasn’t just that I was such a bad boy, it was just that all the things I did and thought were funny, no one else was funny at all.

One time I walked up to the Bradley’s store to get some gas for my old Model “T” car. The store was closed when I was there I knocked. Had to knock several times. Finally, the door was opened and three guys were standing there with guns. Boy, those guns were big. They had heard the store was going to be robbed but of course, I didn’t know this. I was probably about eighteen then.

I was raised on cornbread and the hoe handle, and the reason I never got any bigger than I did was I got more of the hoe handle than the cornbread.
The only difference between me and George Washington was he president and I never was.