ABOUT MY GREAT-GRANDFATHER I know a lot more. His name was George Washington Beemer, and his mother was a Native American, a Cree, born in 1840, who lived into her nineties. Her name was Esther and her husband's name was Judson. You can see them in the two photographs, which were taken on her ninetieth birthday, posed in front of Uncle Horace's Stutz-Bearcat. Her hair, as you can see, is still quite black; she was very proud of her hair, and kept it dyed using a liquid she made from black walnuts.

THE CREE INDIANS were a "plains" tribe, who were primarily hunters and lived a somewhat nomadic life. They originated in Canada, and were an early off-shoot of the Algonquians; today they are associated with the Chippewa, and share a reservation. Their primary rivalry---not to say enmity---was with the Sioux. With whom they warred continually, especially after they acquired rifles from the French. They moved gradually to the South and West, and began a trading relationship with Europeans, facilitating contact between tribal members and whites. Marriages between trappers/traders and Cree women were not unusual.

CONTACT WITH EUROPEANS began with traders in the 1660s and there are many early descriptions of them, both from explorers and companies/individuals with whom they traded. One description states that the Cree are "cunning in trade," and capable of fraud, but otherwise were "scrupulously honest." Tattoos were common for both men and women, although the women usually settled for simple lines from mouth to jaw while the men's tattoos were much more elaborate. Dress was similar to that of most Plains Indians---leggins with fringe, buckskin shirts, etc.

JUDSON BEEMER WAS A TRAPPER and trader in the upper Midwest. For many years it was "known" that he was French-Canadian, but recently he was traced to Germany, instead. He moved with Esther to Iowa sometime after the mid-eighteen hundreds. Their first home in the area was a "soddie," one of the tiny houses built from slabs of prairie, with a dirt floor and no windows. This was replaced fairly quickly by a small log cabin, which has been preserved in the Taylor County Museum in southwestern Iowa..

I have no information about how they made their living, but trapping, trading and farming were primary in that section of the country. Their first son was my great-grandfather. And he was not a nice man.

GEORGE WASHINGTON BEEMER (Grampa Beemer) followed in his father's footsteps occupationally, married and fathered four sons.

The photograph shows Grampa in the early 1890s, holding his oldest son, Horace. All four remained in the area of their birth, and all four contributed to his support when he was no longer able to work, as was customary in the days before Social Security. But none of the sons ever appeared to "love" him, and there were plenty of reasons why not.

FOR EXAMPLE, my grandfather's obituary described him as a "stock man." He was the go-to guy when farm animals in the area were in trouble, especially during the birthing process: "Call Homer" was the signal that the laboring animal was going to be lost if it didn't get help right away. He had the reputation of never having lost a calf, a lamb a foal, nor one of their mothers. It had been his intention to attend veterinary school, which only lasted 6 months in the early nineteen-hundreds. Having "graduated" from school (after the eighth grade,) he had worked, saved his money and been accepted into a school in St. Joseph, Missouri. On the day before he was to leave, Grampa Beemer beat him senseless and took his money.

WHEN HE BECAME TOO FRAIL to live alone, his son Horace took him in. Grampa Beemer often visited the local grocery store, where he went up and down the aisles playing his fiddle. The patrons enjoyed the music, but the store's manager did not, as Grampa was stealing things as he played. Eventually, Horace made a deal with the manager to pay for anything Grampa took, and life went on.

MORE IMPORTANTLY, HOWEVER, Grampa Beemer was apparently known to be an individual with whom you did not leave children unsupervised. In the nineteen-forties and fifties he lived in a small house directly across the street from my grandparents' "winter" house in town. I was strictly forbidden ever to cross the street to his house. This was a very small town, and there wasn't anyplace else that was "forbidden" to me. One afternoon, Grampa was on the front porch, playing his fiddle, which fascinated me, and I went to visit him and to hear more music. He had just invited me inside when my mother came flying across the street and took me home. And gave me the spanking of my life! She didn't explain this, except that I knew I wasn't to go over there, and I never got one until I was in my forties. Grampa had also attempted to molest my mother when she was about seven, and there are family rumors that he wasn't the only pedophile in the county. Not a nice man.

MY GRANDMOTHER, Grace Olive Johnson, used to tell people that her family came over on the Mayflower, and my grandfather's family was there to meet them. Given a little license for 65 years of hyperbole, that's just about accurate.

ANDREW PATTERSON was a Scots Covenanter from Lanarkshire, adherent to the Presbyterian faith of Scotland in the 1600s. These people were the bone and sinew of the opposition to the imposition of the Anglican form and rituals of worship, and part of the very long struggle between the Scots and the English over governance of Scotland. Although the problem dated back to the early part of the reign of James I, it continued until the ascension of William (and Mary). Although there is an impression that Patterson was involved in the uprising of support for "Bonnie Prince Charlie," he did not come to the attention of the King's justices; had this happened, he would most likely have been hanged, as were a multitude of other Scots.

1684 MARKED THE BEGINNING of the "killing Time," and Scots who opposed the crown in matters of religion could be shot out of hand. Bands of roving English soldiers massacred groups of Scots without any warrants or indictments. Arrests and confinement were common-place. And in 1684, James offered George Scott, the Laird of Pitlochie, the gift of 100 prisoners, provided he would transport them to the colonies, and land them there before September of 1686. In bad grace himself,for his stout adherence to the Presbyterian model, Scott immediately assented and began trying to recruit willing settlers. However, most of his settlers came from the Tolbooth at Leith. Most of them were either awaiting trial at the assizes or had already been sentenced to banishment and enjoined from returning to Scotland. Laird Pitlochie was to be fined 500 merks for each individual whom he failed to land in New Jersey, exceptions being made for "mortality." (A merk was a Scottish silver coin valued at about one English shilling.)

THE LAIRD CHARTERED A SHIP, the Henry and Francis, under master Richard Hutton. One hundred twenty-five emigrants were on board, and most were confined below decks. More than 70 people, passengers and crew, died on the voyage from a combination of rotted provisions, virulent fever and the appalling conditions. Laird Pitlochie and his wife were among them.

ON THE EVE OF THEIR BANISHMENT the 125 left a written protest of their banishment, faulting the king for his demands and his refusal to allow them to worship as they pleased. Family legend has it that, being frugal Scots, they were protesting the injustice of being charged five pounds sterling for their transportation, but that wasn't so. They were charged five pounds sterling per adult, 50 shillings for children under 12 with "suckling children" free. Those unable to pay agreed to four years of indentured servitude with a reward of 25 acres and a new suit of clothes when the indenture was completed.

THEY LANDED AT PERTH AMBOY, New Jersey, in mid-December of 1685 after a two-months' journey, and were not made welcome. After initial hardship there, the survivors were taken in by the residents of a nearby town, and finally scattered to Pennsylvania, New York and Connecticut. In 1887, Laird Pitlochie's son-in-law took many of the settlers to court, demanding either payment or service, but was denied by the judge on the grounds that it was not he to whom the Scots payment. Andrew Patterson died in Stratford, Connecticut in 1746, at the age of eighty-seven.

A SERIES OF WESTWARD MIGRATIONS resulted in my great-great grandfather Patterson settling in the southwest corner of Iowa. He had ten children who survived to adulthood, and among them was my great-grandmother, Olive Patterson Johnson, who was born, raised, married and died in Taylor County, Iowa. She had eight children, four girls and four boys. My grandmother was the third of the daughters and she, too, remained in Taylor County all her life, excepting visits to relatives elsewhere. One of her sisters, Alice, died quite young, of what sounds like leukemia, but Taylor Country was only intermittently attended by a physician and there are no records of her illness and treatment, if any.

THE THREE MARRIED SISTERS remained close throughout their lives, although the "baby," Lena, moved to Texas with her husband Brooks Terry, a Texas Ranger. My mother described visits to Texas with her mother, and being regaled with gruesome stories of the Rangers' methods for deterring "wetbacks." Aunt Edie (Edith, the oldest) was married to another local farmer, an alcoholic who was known to beat her, and on one occasion battered her so badly she lost her right eye. (Uncle Frank was another relative with whom I was forbidden to associate, and Aunt Edie's eye was all the reminder I needed to be obedient in that case.)

ANOTHER FAMILY SCANDAL: Aunt Lena, the prettiest of the Johnson girls, was also a little spoiled, and more than a little headstrong. When my mother was quite young Aunt Lena, a teacher, turned up pregnant. This was in 1924, and in a family of Victorian upbringing. I don't know where she was sent for the duration of the pregnancy, but I do know that she refused to give the baby up, and he was taken in by my grandmother until Aunt Lena married. Although no one expected her---an unwed mother---ever to do so. She and her husband moved to the Rio Grande Valley of Texas, and remained there until their deaths; Roger was adopted by Brooks, and there were no other children.

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