AUTOBIOGRAPHY
OF
SAMMY LEE BARNETT TANKERSLEY

June 1, 1938

Note by Charles H. Tankersley:

This autobiography was provided in hard copy by Sharon I. Goodnight and transcribed to html format by Charles H. Tankersley, starting July 4, 2001. This and other documents provided by Sharon are related to Marshall Rush Tankersley (born 1861), Benjamin Robert Tankersley's (born 1858) younger brother. Ben and Rush are known to have been emotionally very closely tied and were the youngest of Charles William Tankersley's children.

PART I; HAPPY TIMES:
the first 23 years from birth to marriage.

Glimpses of the life of Sammy Lee Barnett who made her entry into this world August 1, 1865, in Salem, Illinois, daughter of Samuel and Martha Adams Barnett.

My father passed away when I was three-months-old and I had not been given a name. As I was supposed to have been a boy and was to have my father's name, which was not deemed quite suitable for a girl, it was whittled down to Sammy, and Lee was added for the great Southern General, Robert E. Lee. Hence, Sammy Lee.

My father passed away at the age of twenty-five, leaving my mother with two little girls, Harriett, age three, and myself, just three-months-old. My father was born at or near Versailles, Missouri, my mother at Kokomo, Indiana. I know very little of my father's family as my mother went to make her home with her mother at Kane, Illinois, after my father died. My grandmother, Maria Foster Adams O'Haver (my mother's mother) was born in Waverly, Rockingham County, Virginia. Also, grandfather Adams. He was a first cousin of John Quincy Adams. Grandfather died in 1840 and grandmother married Mr. O'Haver. He was a Methodist minister and a Circuit Rider as they were called at that time. There were three O'Haver children, Howard, Homer, and Georgiana Virginia. Until I was five-years-old, I made my home with Grandma and my uncles and Aunt Genie, as we called her, and I have some pleasant memories of my early years there. We lived a Jerseyville, Illinois, which was about fifty miles north of St. Louis, Missouri.

My mother then married a fine man, Allen Brown. Mother, Harriett and I went to his home to live, located three miles east of Jerseyville, and there spent two happy years. We lived on a big farm and there was a great lot of work to be done. My sister, Harriett and I were left to amuse ourselves. There were wonderful things for us to see around the farm and places to play; a big meadow with a branch running through it, a large orchard where we played many hours, a great barn to play in on rainy days, and a little fat, black pony named Laura which we rode whenever we wanted to do so. Nearly every day, Grandfather Brown would take us to ride a little buggy with Laura hitched to it. Oh! What fun. A big rambly house with a big fireplace downstairs and one upstairs, big porches, spacious rooms, and interesting nooks. It was patterned after the home in South Carolina where Grandfather Brown came from.

I started school at the age of four, while we lived in Jerseyville, to a school called Sons Hall. When we moved to the country we were about two blocks from school, and the name of that school was Buena Vista. It has been sixty-seven years since I went there to school and the old schoolhouse is still there. When I was sever-years-old, Grandfather Brown passed away. The home was sold and divided among five children. My stepfather decided to go to southern Missouri and buy a farm. We located five miles south of Neosha, Newton County, Missouri, a nice town and fine country. Grandmother O'Haver sold her home in Jerseyville and went with us. She lived with us until I was thirteen-years-old. By that time the two uncles and Aunt Genie married and settled. Uncle Howard went to Los Angeles, California, and died there. Uncle Homer went to Kansas City and married a cousin of President Arthur. He was a mounted police in Kansas City and was accidentally shot and killed. Aunt Genie married a Mr. Rickey of La Plata, Missouri. Grandmother went to live with her and to visit Uncle homer in Kansas City and died while there. She is buried in Kansas City.

My stepfather took a number of fine horses, wagon and farm implements. A man named Jim Linman, who worked for him several years, drove to Neosho and bought the farm before mother, grandmother, Harriett, and baby sister Jessie and I went to the new home. We went by train, stopped in St. Louis and stayed a week and visited my father's sister. At the time they were building the great bridge across the Mississippi River, but we crossed the river on a Ferry Boat. I sat on the end seat in the bus by my grandma and held her hand very tight. I watched an old cow as we moved away from the shore and asked grandma what made her go away and not move her legs. I didn't know we were moving. We spent a week sightseeing. Many things have stayed in my mind for all these years. We arrived in Neosho at 11:00 a.m., went to the old Armstrong Hotel and stayed there three days. I wandered all over the place and into the kitchen where all the help and cooks were negroes. I made friends with all of them, but refused to eat because of the black cook. However, I soon grew accustomed to things like that as we were near the Old South where all of the people had colored folks.

My parents rented a house and we lived in Neosho for two months until we could get possession of the farm. We moved to the farm and there I lived until I was twenty-three-years-old. We all loved that farm. It was well improved, a big, five room log house. Three of the rooms had great fireplaces, the kind which are built into southern homes. It would take two men to roll a back log into the fireplace, and this log would last a week with a fire built in front. The fireplace in the kitchen was built inside the room. On one side was a corner for a cook stove to fit in, with shelves to the ceiling behind the stove. On the other side was a storage to keep meat, lard, and provisions. And, as in all southern homes, the kitchen was large enough for a dining room and living room. After supper mother would knit and father read the Neosho Times of the St. Louis Democrat, to get the news. He also made ax handles, scraping them smooth with broken glass. We children roasted apples, popped corn, of parched field corn and made molasses candy.

After we were fairly settled in our new home, Harriett and I had to start school. The Meeks School was one and one-half miles away, but by going across a timber lot and meadow we could cut off one-half mile. Father went with us and blazed a path, cutting chips from trees on either side of the path and we followed that night and morning until we were used to the country. All of the education we ever got was from the old Meeks School and would about equal a ninth grade education. We lived well, took part in all that went on in our neighborhood, Sunday School, Church, Singing School, Spelling School, parties and plays given by young people which we all greatly enjoyed. A man and his family came from Illinois and bought a farm near us. He was well educated and taught our school for two years. I was one of a class of six whom he trained as readers, and I was pleased. Two of the readings I learned perfectly were, Poe's "The Raven" and "The Battle of Waterloo". The teacher had what we then thought was a very fine library and we had reading class at his home every week to read and study. Father loved books and had a fine collection of good books, such as, "Biographies of Great Men", "Life of Christ", "Old Patriarchs", "The Life of Napoleon" and a great many others. We were expected and father insisted that we read all of these books. We gained much knowledge outside of the old Meeks School hours.

Our father was a good, kind man and proved to be a wonderful stepfather. He was always interested in things that went on in our neighborhood, everything that was good of the community, and he took us to every picnic, barbecue, and camp meeting, far and near. The year Garfield was shot, July 3, 1881, (Sammy's age 16) we got all things ready, enough food to last three days, and our family and the family of a cousin went to seneca, Missouri, a town on the border between Missouri and Indian Territory, to attend a 4^th of July celebration. On the 4^th, we heard the news that Garfield had been shot. It cast gloom over the people, and that was the main subject of conversation that day.

Those were the days of big celebrations and parades, with young ladies on horseback, the most popular young lady as Goddess of Liberty, and big fireworks in the evening. Some medicinal springs were discovered six miles from our home and we, among thousands of others, went there every Sunday. We took our dinner. We spent the day listening to some man make a speech to sell lots, climbing up and down hills, boat riding in Indian Creek, dancing later in the evening along the banks of this same creek, and around a little Post Office called Harmony. Harmony was later where the foundation of one of Harold Bell Wright's books was laid.

Father had large herds of sheep, several hundred head being raised each year, and shearing time was looked forward to with great pleasure. That was the time we bought our new clothing for the summer and the shearing of the lambs in the fall meant new cloaks and winter wear. We always had new dresses and hats for the County Fair, which at that time was a great thing and affair in our lives. We always attended two or three days each year and everybody waited for the Fair to wear their finest and best cloths. Father, more than mother, was very desirous that his daughters were among the best dressed girls in the community. By that time I was getting grown up and allowed to go to private dances. As we had the largest rooms in any house in the neighborhood, the Sunday School would vote to have the Christmas Tree at our house. Only those would go that had a part in the program, and after the program was over and every one had received a gift from the tree, father would let the young people dance the rest of the night and everyone had a good time.

In 1886-87, (Sammy's age 21-22) the Split Log Railroad was building through our country. An Indian by that name started building the road and a few years later sold it to the Kansas City and Southern. It came from Payette, Arkansas. During the building of the Split Log Railroad, groups of friends would go on picnic parties and watch the road building. I had a cousin, a nephew of my father named Will Taylor, who came to visit us in 1887 from Versailles, Missouri, and he stayed with us three months. He helped father with the farm work all forenoon and would plan to have some place to go afternoons and evenings. We never missed a picnic that summer.

Gay times were those days, horse and buggy days, sleighs and sleds, and grand days. We would come from school and dig out a bucket of apples to eat during the evening. (Apples were buried in the ground.) In the fall the sugar cane had to be stripped and cut. Father took it to the sorghum mill and two or three barrels of sorghum was made. Through the winter we made candy whenever we wanted to and went to homes of friends and had taffy pulls. Oh, what fun!

By this time in my life things changed greatly. The country had been so ruined during the war, and for many years war troubles were discussed wherever there was a gathering of neighbors. But the country gradually took on an appearance of civilization and farms and homes lost their look of desolation. The part of Missouri where I grew up to womanhood was a beautiful spot and in no place where I have ever lived has the sun shone brighter or the sky seemed so blue. The spring flowers, mostly Indian Pinks, covered the hills and roadsides; the strawberries grew wild and were sweeter. The blackberries grew finer in the rail fence corners, the Meadow Larks sang sweeter. I can still hear the tinkle of the old cow bells as the cows wandered home at sundown. Also, the tinkle of many sheep bells as the flocks came every week from the outside ranges to get salt and then be off again. Bushels of hickory nuts were gathered in the fall. I have a world of sweet memories of my girlhood home and many happy days.

In the fall of 1884 (Sammy's age 19), father and mother decided we had lived in the old home long enough and they were now able to have something better, so the new house was built. A carpenter by the name for Gere built the house and we moved in October. While it was very nice, we missed the old fireplaces and it never seemed like home. We had an upstairs and each girl had a room to herself. There was a large porch and a door upstairs opening on a porch above. It was great fun for my sisters, Jessie and Rose, to creep out there if I had company and listen so they could have something to tease me about through the week. We also sat for hours on the porch upstairs and sang in the summer evenings.

Now I'll tell you about the social activities in those olden, golden times, but I'll not give any dates or names in anything I say here as it would be giving myself away. We used to play such silly games, or at least they seem so now. People have changed so much and other things somehow. We played "Clap Out" and laughed with glee, and then we played "Clap In", took the wrong seat every time and felt as mean as sin ( I do not knew the nature of all these games). We played "Drop the Handkerchief" and "Heavy, Heavy Hangs Over Your Head". "kitchen Furniture", Thimble", and "Bird, Beast, and Fish" were lots of fun. Then setting chairs in a row we would risk life and limb running around "Going to Jerusalem". You wouldn't think those good old saints would go to church today and sit in the Amen corner and talk, sing, and pray. They were the ones who ran the fastest and raised the biggest row going through the "Needles Eye and "Shoot the Buffalo", but such is fact. What is more, we played the kissing games and were not afraid of microbes. They all looked good to us. Another game was "Weevilly Wheat".

We loved to sing, dance, and is was a lively game. If I remember right, the words ran like this:
"We'll all come hither and trip together, in the morning early. Hand in hand, hereby we stand, for I know you love him dearly. For Charley is a nice young man, Charley is a dandy. Every time he goes to town he buys the girls some candy. So I won't have none of your weevilly wheat and I won't have none of you barley, but I'll take a little flour in half an hour to bake a cake for Charley".

"Sister Phoebe" was another game we played with all our might. I don't think I can recall the words just right but they ran something like this:
"As we sing and dance, with hands all round, as we gaily prance, Old Sister Phoebe, how merry was the night we sat under the Juniper Tree. High O! High O! That Juniper tree, High O! Take this hat on your head to keep our head warm, head warm, and take a sweet kiss, it won't do you no harm but a great deal of good I'm sure".

Another game we played was "Skip to my Lou". As years went on we changed our sport for amusements of other kinds ( hummm, this statement is a puzzlement, as the King of Siam would say).

We danced the old Cotillion and circled around and around while prancing with our partners. We would swing them on corner and then we'd do-si-do and allemande to the music of the fiddle and bow. As I look back over the years that are past, they seem so sadly sweet, and I realize that Old Father Time goes on flying feet. I wish that time would turn backwards and give me my youth again for there is no times like the old times and no friends like the old friends when we were young.

Many things were crowded into the next few years and many forgotten, but altogether we had a great time. That winter there was a big Union meeting in Neosho, held in the auditorium of Scarritt College. (This is the college where Will Rogers got his education.) It was thirty miles from Claremore. All the young people in the county went to the town meetings, mostly on hay racks. As soon as we arrived at the meeting, our singer, Sam La Vater, the Welshman, would go to choir. That was one happy winter. There were many happy ones though, spent sleighing and in big bob sleds. As I remember it, I was a very popular girl, had beaus and proposals as young ladies of that day did. When I was eighteen, Father and mother decided to build a new house. It was frame structure but did not have any fireplaces and we girls didn't like that. When I was nineteen, I went to Neosho into dressmaking shop and learn to be a dressmaker. I had always liked to sew and people did their own sewing in those days. I had been doing all the dressmaking for our family and many of the girls in the neighborhood. The next fall when I was twenty and still insisted on going, mother objected. Very few girls in the South went away from home to work. I finally persuaded her to let me go and I worked two years during the busy seasons from March until the last of June and from September 'til Christmas. I learned much about sewing that helped me all my life. While in town, I did things and went places I had never been before. I went to see and hear Blind Boone play and sing. The theater was a wonderful treat to me.

End of PART I.

Next PART II: "Sammy meets and marries Marshall Rush Tankersley:"

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