THE MCOWEN/MCEOWEN FAMILY

A transcript of the memo written by William Francis McOwen (1886 - 1966) for his descendants regarding his father, John Lucas McEowen:

"The Life of John L. McOwen" by his son, William F. McOwen. Copied word for word with his own misspellings, grammar errors, etc.

He was born October 27, 1843, the son of John and Drusilla McOwen, who resided near Columbus, Ohio. They were good old-fashioned christian folk and made their living by hard work. The Father was foreman of a large Stone Quarry seven miles north of Columbus on the Sciota River. When Dad was quite young his Father with another companion, came to Putnam County when this country was a wilderness. They walked from Columbus to what is now known as Ft. Jennings. They Selected a sight of one hundred sixty acres each which they purchased from the government at one dollar per acre. They walked to Ottowa to make the purchase, then back to the farm. They then built a cabin on their land and walked back to Columbus. They gathered their belongings together and with wagon and ox team they started for their new home in the wilderness, but luck was against them. After a few years the Father took down with a lingering illness and after two years he passed on to his reward. The Mother was left alone with her children to carry on. Dad being the eldest was obliged to carry the largest responsibility. Then came the Civil War. Volenteers were in demand, but Dad could not go in the beginning. Nevertheless near the close of the war he enlisted in Company A, 151st Regiment O.V.I. He was stationed on guard duty at Washington D.C. and was there when the war ended. He saw President Lincoln and was there when he was assissinated. When the war ended he was mustered out of service and came home with an honorable discharge. As a young man, Dad was the athletic type. He was better than six feet in height and weighed around one hundred seventy-five pounds. His favorite sports were wrestling and jumping, of which not many were his equal. He was known as the champion wresler of his community. In the Army, he was champion of his regiment in jumping, having jumped twenty-one feet in a single jump. After the war Dad became engaged and was married. He married Catherine Harris, a fine young lady, who came from the same neighborhood. Soon their children began to arrive. There were eleven children in all, six girls and five boys, one being a set of twins, a boy and a girl. Their wedded life and happiness was not to go on forever. Fate began to play its part, the death angel stole into the home and took the most important member of the family, the Mother. Most of the children remember their Mother, but as for me, I was only seven months old when she died, and of course have no recollection of her. I would give anything to know what she looked like, but one thing I am sure of, she was a good christian Mother and some day I expect to see her face to face. Poor old Dad, imagine being left with eleven children, ranging in ages from seven months to eighteen years. Some years before death entered the home, under the influance of a chrisian wife and Mother, Dad began to feel the need for a changed life. When the old Circuit Rider preacher was holding meetings, Dad became under conviction. A few days later, while working in the wood by himself, he knelt down at the roots of a tree and there surrendered himself to God. The light of Heaven came down though those trees into his soul and he was made a new creacher. When Mother was taken, Dad had long sinse learned to put his trust in jesus, who is ready to give us grace to bear all our burdens. Dad kept the family together. The older had to take the place of Mother, each one doing their part, and so the family carried on. About three years after the Mother died, the grim reaper made his second visit to the home. This time one of the boys. His name was Drusellus, and was nicknamed Greeley. He was a promising young man, nineteen years of age, but death is no respector of persons. I have a faint recollection of him. Amidst the trials and tribulations we carried on. Dad, being a farmer on a small farm, did not have enough income sufficient to meet the needs, so the older children were obliged to seek employment. Each one doing their part towards the needs of the family. Dad was very strict in his discipline. When he said 'do this' or 'do not do that' he meath what he said. His favorite weapons for law and order were a hickory gad, a green cornstalk, or a number eleven shoe that carried a kick like a mule. Many a time I enjoyed muself better standing, but after all I guess that is the making of a man. About six years after the death of our brother, Dad possibly received his hardest blow. Typhoid Fever made its appearance in the community in which the pale horse and his rider showed no mercy. The entire family was down with the fever. This time the death toll was two. Our youngest sister Laura Jane, who was only fifteen years of age, answered the call first. Then our oldest brother Joseph, who was twenty-eight. Amidst the sorrow of sickness and death, Dad was faced with a great expense which was felt for a long time to come. Dad was a member of the United Brethern church. He was a faithful and devoted christian. his home was always open to preachers. He enjoyed their fellowship as well as other members of the church. He could talk all day on religeous matters. His prayer life was such that all of us would do well to pattern after him. The family alter was set up soon after his conversion and continued throughout his life. The happiest moments of his life was when he was in a revival meeting. He lived to see all his children saved. I think one of the greatest Revivals he experienced was the one in which I was saved. There were fifty convertions in that meeting and I was the last one. I can look back now over the many years that I grieved his heart, yet his prayers always followed me. I don't think I ever heard Dad pray but what conviction would settle over me. I give Dad most of the credit for my salvation. Dad was not a man to cry very much, but when there was a soul at stake, he would weep like a child. I'll never forget how he pleaded with me at that meeting, the hot scalding tears running down his cheeks and dripping off in lap. Night after night I wanted to go to the alter but sin had me bound. Satan can so bind a man that he can not do what he wants to do. It takes the power of God to break the bonds of sin. After I died to all sin there came the most wonderful change I ever experienced either before or sinse. My guilty sould was set free and I passed from death unto life. The old life had passed away and a new life was now in progress. All things became new, hate had gone out of my heart and love had taken its place. Dad was all smiles now and possibly was never more pleased in his life. Dad lived to see his family grow up and have their own homes. He enjoyed visiting with first one and then another. The next to go was our sister Doratha. She died in 1922. Dad's life was made of many sorrows and yet many blessings. He was blessed with a long life, health and strength. When he was eighty years old he had the misfortune of a broken hip, of which he never fully recovered. At this time, for the first time in my life, I saw Dad's face. Ever sinse I could remember, Dad wore a beard, but after lieing in bed for several weeks in hot weather, he decided to have his beard shaved off, and he never let it grow again. The last few years of his life he was an invalid, yet he always had a smile and a word of encouragement. He would always council us to be faithful. After spending a life of faithfulness to his family, to his church, and to his God, he could say with Paul of old, 'I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith.' So in 1930 Dad went to be with those who had gone on before, and with his Christ. His body awaits the resurrection morn. When Dad passed away there were six out of eleven children living, but death never quits. He is still on the trail of every living creacher, and so a few years later our oldest sister Estella followed Dad to that Heavenly home. Then in 1954 our sister Dora, better known as Bird, passed away. On July 4, 1963, we lost our last sister Elizabeth, better known as Lizz. That just leaves John and me. William F. McOwen 

(Postscript added later--On June 30, 1966 William Francis McOwen passed away, and just a little over a year later, November 16, 1967, the last remaining brother, John M. McOwen joined the rest. He was the last one to go of a family of eleven, but they have all left a family of decendants, so their lives will go on in the lives of their families.)"