McGraw family copes with the summer of '79, Part 1

Learning about how our ancestors lived and the hardships they suffered is just as much a part of genealogy as learning their names, birth dates and death dates.

In fact, I gather every story and watch every movie I can find on life in the 1700s and 1800s as it helps me picture the lives of my ancestors.

I heard from Bobby Jackson of Peachtree City, who gave me the information I needed to print the McGraw article on the hardships of surviving the summer of 1879. The article originally ran in the East Lauderdale News in Rogersville, Ala. The author, Dr. Al McGraw, is a retired teacher who still does an occasional column for that paper. This story concerns his family, the McGraws, early Coweta County settlers, and their survival of that cold, cold summer.

The early settlers of Georgia were, almost without exception, farmers who depended on the land and the weather to survive. We plant gardens today almost as a novelty. Back then, the harvest from gardens enabled people to survive the next winter. Droughts were devastating, sometimes life-threatening, events. And, since we have had two years of watering restrictions recently, this article is strangely appropriate, even though it was written several years ago.

Dr. McGraw writes:

"Lately, with a large proportion of the U.S. population gravely concerned about what is more than likely the most devastating drought of the 20th century, I am reminded of some stories told me by my late paternal grandmother.

"There is little chance of my ever forgetting her fascinating tales because I heard her tell them many times. I never get tired of listening to her relate these stories.

"Granny McGraw was such a superb story teller, I couldn't wait to get stationed down by a cozy fire when she came to visit us during the winter months.

"Granny, an avid old book (fa sol la) singer, was born and reared in Georgia. She never missed a fa sol la singing, whether held nearby or as far away as a wagon train could handily travel in one day, I often heard her say. She sang treble and knew every single song verbatim in the huge song book containing 500-plus pages.

"Of all the stories she told, somehow the ones concerning the weather, in one way or another, were the most fascinating of all. As she told each story, a mental image was formed in my mind, not unlike viewing the story on television or the big screen.

"One story centered around 1879, the year she was 14 years old, living in rural Coweta County. Her dad farmed, as practically all people did in those early years.

"As usual, my great-granddad made plans to plant his five-acre corn crop in early April, although the weather was still much colder than usual.

"Thinking it would amount to nothing more than a late spring, he decided to wait awhile about beginning his planting. He waited until the latter part of April, but the weather was still as cold as it was in the earlier part of the month.

"Thinking that the weather would surely begin a warming trend soon, he decided to get the planting underway. The planting of seeds in those years had to be done entirely by hand. So he solicited the help of the two older children, Jones and Augusta, who was my grandmother.

"They gathered up their improvised 'horns' (which were used for dropping the corn seeds through) and headed to the field to begin the long, strenuous task that lay ahead. Their father followed along right behind, covering up the grains of corn with a long homemade hoe.

"After four full days of planting the five acres of corn, the job was finally completed, at which time the weather was still as cold as before.

"Even so, their five acres of peas needed to be planted. It was actually past time. After Great-granddad labored for two days from dawn to dusk laying off rows for planting the peas, Granny and her brother went about the task of dropping the peas in rows that seemed endlessly long to the two small youngsters.

"'Chaps,' their father began, 'by the time we get our peas dropped and covered, we are sure to be having some warm weather.'

"As it turned out, he was wrong in his prediction. The weather remained cold, desperately cold, for the earlier part of May.

"It was so cold, in fact, that the usual one-sleeved shirts the men and boys wore were not sufficient for keeping them warm enough when they were outside doing the chores.

"There was a blanket of heavy frost on the ground every morning something that not even the oldest residents in the area had ever recalled seeing in May.

"When June arrived, and the weather had still not warmed up, all of the people in the vicinity, as well as the surrounding community, became highly upset.

"Not only were they worried because it had become apparent they weren't going to be able to raise anything to eat and starvation might very well be the end result, but they likewise greatly feared the world was about to end.

"Many of the local residents had already decided among themselves that the world was destined to end, but the following Sunday, when they all gathered at their little church building, their minister substantiated their worst fears.

"'The Good Book plainly states,' the preacher announced to his followers, 'the world will come to an end when it gets so we can't tell winter from summer, and that time has come. As you know, today is the 16th of June, yet a roaring fire in the church heater feels plenty good.'

"The preacher had intended to say much more on the subject, but [when he] substantiated their beliefs, in spite of themselves, they became so noisy he found it impossible to continue. Instead, he resorted to going from one small group to another to assist them with their fervent prayers ..."

Next week, we'll see the heartwarming compassion of a community that pulled together to survive.

We want to hear stories about your ancestors too. Send them to The Citizen, Drawer 1719, Fayetteville, GA 30214; e-mail jkilgore@thecitizennews.com or jodiek444@aol.com.

Until next week, happy hunting!