My father, Granville, son of Granville and Mary Ann Bishop, left 
Montgomery County at the age of seventeen.  Traveling by way of the rods 
(under freight cars), to reach Samuel A. Bishop in California, who gave him 
a job driving a hack, a horse drawn taxi of those days.  He also worked in 
the mining camps, where he was seriously injured.  He was taken to a 
hospital.  When he "came to" he noticed that the name plate on his bed read, 
Granville Fisher.  He said "had I died the relatives back home would never 
have known what became of me."

	After my mother, Russie Bishop, passed on, my father stayed with 
Willie Bishop Harmon for a while.  Harry came to visit him, but as my 
father's sight was failing he didn't recognize him.  Harry took his hand and 
placed it on that wooden leg, then he knew him!

	Vera Walker, daughter of Jack and Melvina Bishop, told me that when 
my grandfather, Granville Bishop, was killed, Grandma (Mary Ann) and a slave 
boy dug the grave, made the casket and buried him.  Casket material was 
often kept in barn lofts in those days.  Howell Bishop told me he once saw 
the slave, later.

	Grandma Bishop Clement told my mother she had a little girl who 
died, because she was "too smart to live."  I don't know her name or where 
she is buried.  Could be the same place grandpa was, though there was no 
stone found.  What "grit" she (grandma) had, six children then, remarried 
and had four more and lived to be ninety.  (She helped raise step-children 
also).  Kept house for Paul, a son, almost to the last.

	Ross Bishop worked on cattle drives from San Antonio to Dodge City. 
 He was a real cowboy, broke western horses for my father, who had shipped 
them to Missouri from Colorado.  He was quite a tease, once my mother left 
me with Ross with instructions for me to run a hen and chickens into shelter 
if it started to rain.  It rained and as I was in the process, Ross yelled, 
"Let those chickens go to hell."  I said, "Let these chickens go to hell?  
Hell no, mom wants these chickens."  He thought it very funny, quoting it to 
me for years to come.

	My mother wasn't well that summer, so she sort of let me run.  Uncle 
Bev. (Granville's brother), lad loaned my father a stallion, which was kept 
in the barn.  I tied a string to his halter, led him out, dragged a saddle 
over on him and from a piano box where it was and rode out on the road!  We 
met teams, but he was a perfect gentleman.  Uncle Bev wouldn't let Jack ride 
him!

	I know Uncle Sam lost his eye when he fell on a tea kettle spout, 
but never knew why Harry had the wooden leg.  He often stayed over night 
with us on his accessing rounds.

	Lon Bishop was a pupil of my mom's when she taught school.

	Once when my father was courting mom and she was playing the organ 
with him standing by her, he took a bow of ribbon from one of the little 
shelves and placed it on her shoulder.  Up she jumped, feeling he was taking 
liberties, which was not his intention at all.  (She was almost a prude 
then, I'm afraid).  My father got angry, put on his hat and left.  Went out 
west again and didn't come back for seven years.  When he came back they 
"made up" and married.  I don't know that story.  He was fifteen years older 
than she and he outlived her fifteen years.  They lived with us after her 
health failed, for several months.  When she passed away, dad went to Texas 
and visited Uncle Jack and to Nevada, Missouri.  He also visited the Turk 
families (Aunt Jennie's children) for a while.  He was 82 when he came back 
home to us and lived to be 96.  At the age of 92, he was converted after 
being a skeptic all his life, an answer to our prayers.  I believe they are 
together now.

	Also, I must clear up an incident that occurred in Colorado, which 
my mom was criticized for and was thrown up to me by Jim Coil.  My father 
borrowed some money from Uncle Jack and gave some horses as collateral.  
Uncle Jack sold the horses and kept the money.  I never knew why, that 
didn't set well with my mom, so she asked to see the note, took it and went 
over to the stove and burned it.  Those dear ones are long gone now, so no 
one will be hurt, if I tell it.  I was almost born in Colorado.  It was 
haying time when I was due, so mom went back to her parents for the event.  
They lived on the Lockwood place, names:  Thomas and Gertrude Elgin.

	My father was once in love with Aunt Jane.  I don't know if he asked 
her to marry him.  It caused no differences between Uncle Bev and him, I 
know.

	S.A. Oliver told me that when Virginia Bishop married an Oliver, 
some Olivers went to their place (the house still stands on Melva's farm) 
took him out and down to Danville (where the courthouse was at the time) and 
locked him up!  Virginia rode a horse down to the jail that night and got 
him out.  Must have been a feud between the families.  I did hear that there 
was when I was a kid, politics, I think.

[Trudell Marie (Bishop) McMackins is the daughter of Granville Addison and 
Russie Effie (Elgin) Bishop and the granddaughter of Granville Addison and 
Mary Ann (Spears) Bishop.  She is probably the only living one of her 
generation, the other generation of nine Bishop boys now all passed away.
Her father (Granville Addison Bishop) and my grandfather (Samuel Calvin 
Bishop) were brothers - Margaret Jean (Bishop) Fullerton, February 1998]



Subject: Shelton Oliver, Jail  Date: 18 Feb 1998 
From: Beverly Robinson beverly@plnet.net

Yes, I have heard a story about like the S.A [ie Shelton Alben] Oliver one... 
but of course its a little different.  Larry's [Robinson] grandmother, Mattie 
Oliver Powell said her grandfather, Shelton Oliver, was dragged off to the jail 
in Danville by his brothers. Due to the different sides they took in the Civil 
War.  Sarah Virginia [(Bishop) Oliver] always said that he caught consumption 
while in jail and never recovered from it.  I'm sure every family has their 
own version.  And yes the house is still standing, only last week-end Nancy [Lee]
and I went over to look at it and take pictures.  Can't remember if there were 
any more questions.  Nancy and I went off to a dusty Courthouse and Library 
in search of lost family members today.		Beverly