Family History: My Cure for Coronavirus
It's been a very good week here in West Virginia. I have found solace and fulfillment in researching my family history and then going out on a drive to see as many places as I can while I'm still here.
I talk to my family members often, and have also reached out recently to some friends back home to see how they are faring. So far, so good. I'm excited to be home soon though, even if I can't hug everyone that I've missed. At least we have the technology to make phone calls, and I've resorted to the novelty of snail mail, too, by sending cards and packages to loved ones. There's always a way to keep in touch with those you wish to keep in touch with. :)
Monday: I traveled south to Strasburg, VA once again to visit some ancestral sites. My first stop was St. Paul's Lutheran Church, originally built in 1760. My 5th great grandparents, Nicholas Pitman and Catherine Snapp attended here, and their children were christened here as early as 1762.
This is not the original structure, but it is still pre-Civil War era. The original structure was likely built out of wood and would have been much smaller. Later they would have added to its size. But it's still a magnificent church!
They have a few artifacts dating back to the 1700's that are housed in glass cases inside the church today. This one spoke to my heart. It's an old German hymnal from circa 1770. My ancestors were all German in the Strasburg area, and would have worshiped and sung in their native German language.
I also wandered throughout the OLD cemetery surrounding the church. I found a few headstones with familiar surnames, including Snapp and Stickley. I also found a remarkably familiar name: Jacob Harmon Stickley. Sadly, this little guy only lived to be three years old before he died.
From the church, I drove out a mile or two west of Strasburg to find the old Hockman land. Jacob Hockman Jr. was the father and my 6th great grandfather, and his son was Abraham Hockman. They lived on what is called "Sandy Hook", adjacent to one of the many twists and turns of the Shenandoah River, specifically the North Fork in this area of the Valley. The Hockman land was on the banks of the river and near the present-day Sandy Hook Elementary School.
I stood on the bridge overlooking the river and just wished that I could get down there and walk along its banks for a while. But this was not a good spot. However, I did enjoy watching an otter enter the water and swim over to an old dead tree mid-stream.
Click here to see him: https://photos.app.goo.gl/3xCGjxRkcRxL5UsDA
While I was so close to town, I stopped by the Strasburg Emporium, an expansive building with antiques and crafts galore. I remembered my visit 12 years ago with Scott, ha ha. He was so overwhelmed just a few feet inside that he preferred waiting in the car for me, rather than wandering through here for hours getting dizzy! Now, 12 years later, I could spend as long as I wanted, which ended up being just about 2 hours. Even I was tired by the time I left!
Here are a couple cute signs I saw in my wanderings:
I bought a beautiful framed print of Stonewall Jackson hugging his wife goodbye as he prepared to go out on another campaign. It was entitled, "Until We Meet Again". It really spoke to my heart, since I have to say goodbye time and time again to my soldier husband. And the price tag was great, too: $15.
My last stop for the afternoon was to find some land that once belonged to the Stickley Family. My 6th great grandmother was Dorothy Stickley, who married Adam Funk. There are at least 1000 references to the Stickley Family up and down the Valley. But I recently found a document describing their specific property adjacent to Route 757 near Strasburg and Fishers Hill, VA. After consulting with Google maps, I knew just where to go.
And here is the view:
Everything in this area is this beautiful all of the time. Literally everything.
When I got home that evening, I found Gordon (Scott's older brother) trying out a new cooking technique in the kitchen. It's called: Sous Vide. (look it up) He was in the final stages of browning the pork in the pan when I walked in.
And yes, he is torching the pork with open flame from a propane torch. Within 3 minutes of me walking in, every single smoke alarm in the entire house went off! ha ha I had Scott on the video chat at the time, and I was showing him what his brother was doing when suddenly we couldn't even hear each other. I opened up windows and doors to help diffuse the situation, and soon all was back to normal once again. :) The pork was delicious by the way.
Tuesday: I can't even remember anything that I did, other than talking as usual with this handsome guy.
Wednesday: Not much happened again. I think I spent several hours doing family history research. I went on a lovely afternoon walk, though, down the nearby country roads. Saw some cute little horses staring at me . . .
Talked to my BFF as he ate his dinner.
Thursday: I went back down to the Strasburg area for some family history adventures. The day turned out a little differently than what I had planned . . .
First, I drove to the UPS Store in Winchester to mail some stuff home to myself. Then I picked up some flowers at a local florist to take with me to Toms Brook Cemetery. Toms Brook is super tiny, consisting of a few houses and maybe a gas station/convenience store and a post office.
I saw several familiar names in the cemetery: Hockman, Stickley, and Butts. :)
From there, I drove a few miles NE of Toms Brook in search of the most confusing cemetery. It's supposedly called the Kern Cemetery, allegedly on land that used to belong to my 5th great grandparents (Nicholas Pitman and Catherine Snapp). Well, Google Maps did not understand what I was trying to do, so I ended up driving around out in the sticks for a while.
I found this really unique suspension bridge out on Deer Rapids Road, south of Fishers Hill, VA. I pulled over out of curiosity, combined with a need to just get out of the car for a few minutes.
The bridge allows for foot traffic to cross over the North Fork of the Shenandoah River. The wobbling, bouncing and swinging sensation as I walked across the little wooden planks was more than I could handle, so I only went about 1/4 of the way out on the bridge. I don't even think I made it to the point where I was actually over the water. I kept thinking, "Man, if this bridge gives way and I go down, nobody would even know where I am!!" So I took some pictures and a video, then scurried back down to safety. :)
Click to see the video I took while up on the suspension bridge:
https://photos.app.goo.gl/sLhNrtCRuSAigfyTA
Crossing the paved bridge in the safety of my car on the road below, I went off in search again for this nondescript cemetery. Stopping to ask for assistance from an older gentleman who was outside gardening proved to be interesting. He came somewhat close to me because he was hard of hearing, but apologized for not coming any closer than about 30 feet in order to be safe with "social distancing" (Thanks coronavirus). He pointed me in a direction and off I went, eagerly, but somewhat skeptically at this point.
The paved road soon ended so I drove along on a gravel road for maybe a mile. The gravel in WV is not exactly what I would actually call gravel, though. It's like broken shards of rock, chunky and crunchy. My experience with gravel is what you would call pea gravel; little pieces of smoothed rocks, tiny and subtle. I saw another human, so I anxiously stopped to inquire if I was getting close or not. She was much friendlier and we chatted for a while about the state of the world right now and how our families were doing under the circumstances. She was very nice. Her name was Patty.
She knew of a small cemetery on her property, so she walked with me over to see it. It was just an old and tiny family cemetery (not hers) with about 6 graves in it. And no headstones with my family names on it either. So I decided to head back to civilization at this point. I was done chasing this elusive or non-existent cemetery.
As I drove back down the "gravel" road, I started hearing a strange sound coming from my own car. I rolled down the window to get a better grasp of what it was exactly. It did not sound good at all. Kind of a metal grinding sound, mixed with a screaming metal-on-metal sound. I pulled over and got down on my hands and knees to look underneath the carriage, but everything looked okay. So I drove slowly and began worrying. When I braked, I heard it even louder. I was pretty scared at this point. Here I was out in the middle of nowhere all by myself. Hardly any houses to speak of. And most people are afraid of other humans right now (again thanks to the coronavirus), so where would I even get assistance?
Soon I saw the place where I'd pulled over earlier at the suspension bridge. It had a nice turnout where I could safely check things out further. I said a fervent prayer asking for guidance. I looked under the hood but couldn't see anything that looked worrisome, and the sound had stopped, too. I tried to call my Dad because he has always been able to help me assess and/or fix something over the phone, but he didn't answer. So I called Benson in Italy. Because why not? Thankfully he answered.
Benson suggested that I drive slowly along and hang my cellphone out the window to get a video of what was happening so he could hear it too. So I did. Here's the edited and much shorter version of when the awful sound occurred: (about 16 seconds' worth)
https://photos.app.goo.gl/2f64radnxyFRrA2v8
After I shared the video with Benson (a miracle in and of itself, given my location), he texted, "I would check near your brake calipers for little pebbles or something." We had narrowed the sound down to when I braked and especially when I turned the wheel to the right while braking.
Just then, Scott called me from Saudi Arabia. I found a safe place to pull over and told him of my predicament and he, too, said it sounded like my calipers. I didn't even know what a caliper was, so Scott had me turn the video capability around on the screen of our video call so that he could see my wheels and could show me how to check the calipers.
I hopped out and just as I was "showing" Scott my wheels, an older gentleman pulled over across the road and hollered, "You okay, Ma'am?" And then he came over to help, too. I told him upfront that my husband was on the video chat, and they each said hello. (my insurance just in case he turned out to be a bad guy - but he wasn't.) His name was Bill Wine and he also concurred with Scott and Benson that it sounded like a piece of gravel was the culprit. Bill gave me directions on how to pop the rock out on my own: while driving slowly in reverse, pump the brakes multiple times to try to dislodge the rock. After doing that, the car sounded much better. I didn't hear any screeching while turning the wheel or braking.
Bill suggested that I head 2 miles into town and go see his friend, Carroll, at the Strasburg Service Station. I thanked him, and headed into town. At first, I didn't think I needed to go get it checked. I felt confident that the problem was solved by backing up and pumping the brakes. But I also didn't want to be out on country roads anymore either. So I found a quiet place to pull over in town and just talk to Scott for a few minutes.
After we hung up, and as I was pulling back onto the road, I heard that dag-blasted screeching sound again. Thankfully, I was only about 3 businesses away from the service station. My trusty car and friend "limped" over there and Carroll met me outside. He had just hung up with his friend, Bill Wine, who had called to let him know I would be coming. :) Small Town = Good People.
Carroll used his air compressor to blast out any particles in both front wheel areas, and after some test driving in the parking lot, ALL WAS FINALLY WELL. My confidence was back in being able to drive my car again!! Hooray!!
He and his coworker tried to refuse payment from me multiple times, but I dug into my purse and came up with $50 cash to offer as a token of my gratitude. Carroll, in his southern and West Virginia accent, simply said, "Well, you tell that husband of yours that an old Confederate thanks him for his service!" ha ha. As it turned out, he did serve in the Vietnam War, but likes to think of himself in terms of his ancestors' service. Trust me, I had to answer as to what an Idaho girl was doing clear out here and driving on remote gravel roads. So we talked about family history and military service and everything in between.
Such good people here. I am so grateful that the day turned out better than it could have. Even though I didn't find the cemetery I was hoping for, I found good people who were willing to help me time and time again. And I made sure to say a prayer to thank Heavenly Father for all of the assistance I received. :)
Since it was about 4:00 pm and I hadn't had any lunch, I stopped at the grocery store for a string cheese and a package of raspberries. I took my little picnic lunch down to the Strasburg Town Park, situated on the banks of the North Fork of the Shenandoah River, right across from the Hockman land that I found on Monday. I ate that entire package of raspberries and listened to the water and enjoyed the peace and quiet.
Friday: I did absolutely NOTHING. Well, I watched some favorite shows on my laptop and just rested the entire day. I felt exhausted and drained, even a little dizzy at times. It's not like my week was hard or stressful, with the exception of my car issues from the day before. But I just think my body needed a day of rest and so I obliged. I didn't even go to Martinsburg with Gordon and Pam later in the day when they went to visit their older kids for the evening. I just stayed home and watched American Idol, The Voice, and several episodes of Victoria. :) It was wonderful.
And I talked to my sweetheart.
Saturday: Gordon gave me a driving tour of several places nearby where I can go for walks and hikes. The Shenandoah National Forest is about one mile up the road, with access to the Appalachian Trail, and the actual city of Harpers Ferry is about 2-3 miles from our house here. He took me up to the old cemetery overlooking the rivers below and we walked around for a few minutes. What a beautiful place to be buried. I wouldn't mind that view. This is opposite from where Chandler and I hiked a couple weeks ago.
When I talked to Scott later, he told me about his DIY fix to a stinky problem they've been having in their house. There was a hole in the bathroom floor that was only somewhat covered up, so the stench from the sewer below was emanating into the room. He was tired of dealing with that. So he found a way to cover it up using duct tape attached to the mesh already in place, and then added a square piece of plastic to top it off. He said it smells much better now. Well, I don't know about much better, but at least it's not as nasty as it used to be, ha ha.
(I didn't realize I had such an expression on my face as he was explaining the whole thing to me, ha ha)
He's such a good man. I love him so much!!
Sunday: Gordon blessed and administered the Sacrament to us. This time we used Jessie's tea set, and it was just so pretty I had to take a picture.
We studied and shared insights from this past week's Come Follow Me lesson for our church service and sang some hymns together. Our service lasted about an hour and was very enjoyable.
I talked the family into coming on a family history adventure with me for the afternoon, so we packed a picnic lunch and piled into Gordon't truck for a scenic drive to the Stephens City area.
First stop was to Stephen's Fort, a hexagonal structure that used to be a powder magazine to make ammunition during the Revolutionary War. (Located on Route 628, near the intersection of Minebank Rd) The building looks like it is now used as a shed or something, which is so sad. It needs to be registered and protected as a historical building!! It just sits on a property that appears to be abandoned, including the nearby house, but there are "No Trespassing" signs posted everywhere. I paid them no mind.
Adjacent to the property runs scenic Cedar Creek. After the fort no longer produced ammunition, it was later turned into a mill. Remnants of the mill can still be seen on the banks of the creek.
And on the opposite side of the bridge on which I stood for these pictures, I took a short video.
Click here:
https://photos.app.goo.gl/fR5au5E7wAMefJr4A
The reason why I find this place so interesting, besides the fact that it has significance to the Revolutionary War (!!), is that it has ties to my own ancestors.
I copied this from the History of Stephens City website: (https://newtownhistorycenter.org/town-history/beginnings-1732-1783/)
Stephens City was chartered in 1758 as the town of “Stephensburgh,” but its origins reach back into the early 1730s when Peter Stephens (1687-1757), an immigrant originally from Heidelberg, Germany, built his homestead on land that would eventually become part of the far southern end of the original town.
Stephens and his family, along with other German immigrants, came to the Valley of Virginia after spending some years in the Skippack Creek area outside of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Chief among this group of German colonists was Jost Hite (1685-1761), one of the purchasers of a large land grant in the lower Shenandoah Valley from the Governor of the Royal Colony of Virginia. Hite,
Stephens and other German Protestants came to the Shenandoah Valley as early as 1732 and established the “Opequon Settlement” south of what would later be known as the town of Winchester. This Opequon Settlement was not a town but a group of homesteads on land claims held by these early pioneers. Their land claims mostly stretched along the rich bottomlands next to the streams that emptied into the Opequon Creek and the Shenandoah River. These first homesteads were found in the area around the “Indian Road” or the “Great Philadelphia Wagon Road” (U.S. Route 11), in the core of what is today the central and southern part of Frederick County, Virginia.
Hite settled on the north bank near the headwaters of the Opequon creek in what would later be known as the community of Bartonsville. Peter Stephens established his claim on the North Branch of Crooked Run, a stream that would later be named Stephens Run in his honor.
My German ancestors came with Jost Hite from Pennsylvania and settled here and in the areas surrounding present-day Stephens City and Strasburg. Any history from that time frame would inevitably pertain to my family as well.
FUN FACT: An old episode of "Who Do You Think You Are" that featured Tim McGraw finding his roots, showed the discovery that he was related to Jost Hite. I have never forgotten that episode or that name, because as I learned about Tim McGraw's history in the Shenandoah Valley, I was learning about my own family at the same time.
Some of the sights during our meanderings:
We set our sights next for Bartonsville, but there was nothing there. NOTHING. The GPS took us to the "site" but it was just a somewhat inviting dirt road leading to who knows where. We decided to move on to the next stop: Opequon Creek, less than a mile away. (pronounced Oh-PECK-on)
My 6th great grandfather, Johannes Schnapp (John Snapp) purchased 400 acres along Cedar Creek near Little North Mountain in 1749. He also had parcels of land along Opequon Creek, and was part of the Jost Hite settlement.
We found a section of Opequon Creek that was accessible from the road and was maybe a quarter mile away from our last stop: the old Hite House. I tramped through weeds and brush to get down to the water's edge.
The water was a pretty and greenish color, but more of a teal green in some places.
Just around the corner was this old building, but it had no identification to know what its significance was.
And spitting distance away from here was the old John Hite House and estate along Opequon Creek. John Hite was the son of Jost Hite.
Opequon Creek ran across the road and was adjacent to the Hite property:
This photo shows the physical location: Route 649 intersecting with Hwy 11 near Stephens City, VA
All in all, it was a fabulous afternoon out on a Sunday drive with family - to find family. :)
Something I realized this past week is that the places I have researched and found corresponding land that my family used to own are all really close in proximity to each other! I created this map to help me see it all in one place.
And last but not least, I just love all the fun Scott and I have on our daily video chats. He is so kind and caring, silly and happy. He makes me so happy. He has a lot of facial expressions . . .
He couldn't hear me very well next to the blaring TV, so he had to lean in and really concentrate!
Part of his nightly routine is to get his favorite ice cream cone at the chow hall. I wish I were there to grab one too. We could go on a walk together and eat ice cream. :)
I'm looking forward to more adventures here in West Virginia this coming week. I pray every day for those suffering from the effects of COVID-19, also known as Coronavirus. I hope we can contain it and eradicate it soon. We are learning some important lessons during this experience, though. And I hope we can sufficiently humble ourselves as a people and look to our loving Father in Heaven to guide us and help us through these uncertain times.
I talk to my family members often, and have also reached out recently to some friends back home to see how they are faring. So far, so good. I'm excited to be home soon though, even if I can't hug everyone that I've missed. At least we have the technology to make phone calls, and I've resorted to the novelty of snail mail, too, by sending cards and packages to loved ones. There's always a way to keep in touch with those you wish to keep in touch with. :)
Monday: I traveled south to Strasburg, VA once again to visit some ancestral sites. My first stop was St. Paul's Lutheran Church, originally built in 1760. My 5th great grandparents, Nicholas Pitman and Catherine Snapp attended here, and their children were christened here as early as 1762.
This is not the original structure, but it is still pre-Civil War era. The original structure was likely built out of wood and would have been much smaller. Later they would have added to its size. But it's still a magnificent church!
They have a few artifacts dating back to the 1700's that are housed in glass cases inside the church today. This one spoke to my heart. It's an old German hymnal from circa 1770. My ancestors were all German in the Strasburg area, and would have worshiped and sung in their native German language.
I also wandered throughout the OLD cemetery surrounding the church. I found a few headstones with familiar surnames, including Snapp and Stickley. I also found a remarkably familiar name: Jacob Harmon Stickley. Sadly, this little guy only lived to be three years old before he died.
From the church, I drove out a mile or two west of Strasburg to find the old Hockman land. Jacob Hockman Jr. was the father and my 6th great grandfather, and his son was Abraham Hockman. They lived on what is called "Sandy Hook", adjacent to one of the many twists and turns of the Shenandoah River, specifically the North Fork in this area of the Valley. The Hockman land was on the banks of the river and near the present-day Sandy Hook Elementary School.
I stood on the bridge overlooking the river and just wished that I could get down there and walk along its banks for a while. But this was not a good spot. However, I did enjoy watching an otter enter the water and swim over to an old dead tree mid-stream.
Click here to see him: https://photos.app.goo.gl/3xCGjxRkcRxL5UsDA
While I was so close to town, I stopped by the Strasburg Emporium, an expansive building with antiques and crafts galore. I remembered my visit 12 years ago with Scott, ha ha. He was so overwhelmed just a few feet inside that he preferred waiting in the car for me, rather than wandering through here for hours getting dizzy! Now, 12 years later, I could spend as long as I wanted, which ended up being just about 2 hours. Even I was tired by the time I left!
Here are a couple cute signs I saw in my wanderings:
I bought a beautiful framed print of Stonewall Jackson hugging his wife goodbye as he prepared to go out on another campaign. It was entitled, "Until We Meet Again". It really spoke to my heart, since I have to say goodbye time and time again to my soldier husband. And the price tag was great, too: $15.
My last stop for the afternoon was to find some land that once belonged to the Stickley Family. My 6th great grandmother was Dorothy Stickley, who married Adam Funk. There are at least 1000 references to the Stickley Family up and down the Valley. But I recently found a document describing their specific property adjacent to Route 757 near Strasburg and Fishers Hill, VA. After consulting with Google maps, I knew just where to go.
And here is the view:
Everything in this area is this beautiful all of the time. Literally everything.
When I got home that evening, I found Gordon (Scott's older brother) trying out a new cooking technique in the kitchen. It's called: Sous Vide. (look it up) He was in the final stages of browning the pork in the pan when I walked in.
And yes, he is torching the pork with open flame from a propane torch. Within 3 minutes of me walking in, every single smoke alarm in the entire house went off! ha ha I had Scott on the video chat at the time, and I was showing him what his brother was doing when suddenly we couldn't even hear each other. I opened up windows and doors to help diffuse the situation, and soon all was back to normal once again. :) The pork was delicious by the way.
Tuesday: I can't even remember anything that I did, other than talking as usual with this handsome guy.
Wednesday: Not much happened again. I think I spent several hours doing family history research. I went on a lovely afternoon walk, though, down the nearby country roads. Saw some cute little horses staring at me . . .
Talked to my BFF as he ate his dinner.
Thursday: I went back down to the Strasburg area for some family history adventures. The day turned out a little differently than what I had planned . . .
First, I drove to the UPS Store in Winchester to mail some stuff home to myself. Then I picked up some flowers at a local florist to take with me to Toms Brook Cemetery. Toms Brook is super tiny, consisting of a few houses and maybe a gas station/convenience store and a post office.
I saw several familiar names in the cemetery: Hockman, Stickley, and Butts. :)
From there, I drove a few miles NE of Toms Brook in search of the most confusing cemetery. It's supposedly called the Kern Cemetery, allegedly on land that used to belong to my 5th great grandparents (Nicholas Pitman and Catherine Snapp). Well, Google Maps did not understand what I was trying to do, so I ended up driving around out in the sticks for a while.
I found this really unique suspension bridge out on Deer Rapids Road, south of Fishers Hill, VA. I pulled over out of curiosity, combined with a need to just get out of the car for a few minutes.
The bridge allows for foot traffic to cross over the North Fork of the Shenandoah River. The wobbling, bouncing and swinging sensation as I walked across the little wooden planks was more than I could handle, so I only went about 1/4 of the way out on the bridge. I don't even think I made it to the point where I was actually over the water. I kept thinking, "Man, if this bridge gives way and I go down, nobody would even know where I am!!" So I took some pictures and a video, then scurried back down to safety. :)
Click to see the video I took while up on the suspension bridge:
https://photos.app.goo.gl/sLhNrtCRuSAigfyTA
Crossing the paved bridge in the safety of my car on the road below, I went off in search again for this nondescript cemetery. Stopping to ask for assistance from an older gentleman who was outside gardening proved to be interesting. He came somewhat close to me because he was hard of hearing, but apologized for not coming any closer than about 30 feet in order to be safe with "social distancing" (Thanks coronavirus). He pointed me in a direction and off I went, eagerly, but somewhat skeptically at this point.
The paved road soon ended so I drove along on a gravel road for maybe a mile. The gravel in WV is not exactly what I would actually call gravel, though. It's like broken shards of rock, chunky and crunchy. My experience with gravel is what you would call pea gravel; little pieces of smoothed rocks, tiny and subtle. I saw another human, so I anxiously stopped to inquire if I was getting close or not. She was much friendlier and we chatted for a while about the state of the world right now and how our families were doing under the circumstances. She was very nice. Her name was Patty.
She knew of a small cemetery on her property, so she walked with me over to see it. It was just an old and tiny family cemetery (not hers) with about 6 graves in it. And no headstones with my family names on it either. So I decided to head back to civilization at this point. I was done chasing this elusive or non-existent cemetery.
As I drove back down the "gravel" road, I started hearing a strange sound coming from my own car. I rolled down the window to get a better grasp of what it was exactly. It did not sound good at all. Kind of a metal grinding sound, mixed with a screaming metal-on-metal sound. I pulled over and got down on my hands and knees to look underneath the carriage, but everything looked okay. So I drove slowly and began worrying. When I braked, I heard it even louder. I was pretty scared at this point. Here I was out in the middle of nowhere all by myself. Hardly any houses to speak of. And most people are afraid of other humans right now (again thanks to the coronavirus), so where would I even get assistance?
Soon I saw the place where I'd pulled over earlier at the suspension bridge. It had a nice turnout where I could safely check things out further. I said a fervent prayer asking for guidance. I looked under the hood but couldn't see anything that looked worrisome, and the sound had stopped, too. I tried to call my Dad because he has always been able to help me assess and/or fix something over the phone, but he didn't answer. So I called Benson in Italy. Because why not? Thankfully he answered.
Benson suggested that I drive slowly along and hang my cellphone out the window to get a video of what was happening so he could hear it too. So I did. Here's the edited and much shorter version of when the awful sound occurred: (about 16 seconds' worth)
https://photos.app.goo.gl/2f64radnxyFRrA2v8
After I shared the video with Benson (a miracle in and of itself, given my location), he texted, "I would check near your brake calipers for little pebbles or something." We had narrowed the sound down to when I braked and especially when I turned the wheel to the right while braking.
Just then, Scott called me from Saudi Arabia. I found a safe place to pull over and told him of my predicament and he, too, said it sounded like my calipers. I didn't even know what a caliper was, so Scott had me turn the video capability around on the screen of our video call so that he could see my wheels and could show me how to check the calipers.
I hopped out and just as I was "showing" Scott my wheels, an older gentleman pulled over across the road and hollered, "You okay, Ma'am?" And then he came over to help, too. I told him upfront that my husband was on the video chat, and they each said hello. (my insurance just in case he turned out to be a bad guy - but he wasn't.) His name was Bill Wine and he also concurred with Scott and Benson that it sounded like a piece of gravel was the culprit. Bill gave me directions on how to pop the rock out on my own: while driving slowly in reverse, pump the brakes multiple times to try to dislodge the rock. After doing that, the car sounded much better. I didn't hear any screeching while turning the wheel or braking.
Bill suggested that I head 2 miles into town and go see his friend, Carroll, at the Strasburg Service Station. I thanked him, and headed into town. At first, I didn't think I needed to go get it checked. I felt confident that the problem was solved by backing up and pumping the brakes. But I also didn't want to be out on country roads anymore either. So I found a quiet place to pull over in town and just talk to Scott for a few minutes.
After we hung up, and as I was pulling back onto the road, I heard that dag-blasted screeching sound again. Thankfully, I was only about 3 businesses away from the service station. My trusty car and friend "limped" over there and Carroll met me outside. He had just hung up with his friend, Bill Wine, who had called to let him know I would be coming. :) Small Town = Good People.
Carroll used his air compressor to blast out any particles in both front wheel areas, and after some test driving in the parking lot, ALL WAS FINALLY WELL. My confidence was back in being able to drive my car again!! Hooray!!
He and his coworker tried to refuse payment from me multiple times, but I dug into my purse and came up with $50 cash to offer as a token of my gratitude. Carroll, in his southern and West Virginia accent, simply said, "Well, you tell that husband of yours that an old Confederate thanks him for his service!" ha ha. As it turned out, he did serve in the Vietnam War, but likes to think of himself in terms of his ancestors' service. Trust me, I had to answer as to what an Idaho girl was doing clear out here and driving on remote gravel roads. So we talked about family history and military service and everything in between.
Such good people here. I am so grateful that the day turned out better than it could have. Even though I didn't find the cemetery I was hoping for, I found good people who were willing to help me time and time again. And I made sure to say a prayer to thank Heavenly Father for all of the assistance I received. :)
Since it was about 4:00 pm and I hadn't had any lunch, I stopped at the grocery store for a string cheese and a package of raspberries. I took my little picnic lunch down to the Strasburg Town Park, situated on the banks of the North Fork of the Shenandoah River, right across from the Hockman land that I found on Monday. I ate that entire package of raspberries and listened to the water and enjoyed the peace and quiet.
And I talked to my sweetheart.
Saturday: Gordon gave me a driving tour of several places nearby where I can go for walks and hikes. The Shenandoah National Forest is about one mile up the road, with access to the Appalachian Trail, and the actual city of Harpers Ferry is about 2-3 miles from our house here. He took me up to the old cemetery overlooking the rivers below and we walked around for a few minutes. What a beautiful place to be buried. I wouldn't mind that view. This is opposite from where Chandler and I hiked a couple weeks ago.
When I talked to Scott later, he told me about his DIY fix to a stinky problem they've been having in their house. There was a hole in the bathroom floor that was only somewhat covered up, so the stench from the sewer below was emanating into the room. He was tired of dealing with that. So he found a way to cover it up using duct tape attached to the mesh already in place, and then added a square piece of plastic to top it off. He said it smells much better now. Well, I don't know about much better, but at least it's not as nasty as it used to be, ha ha.
(I didn't realize I had such an expression on my face as he was explaining the whole thing to me, ha ha)
He's such a good man. I love him so much!!
Sunday: Gordon blessed and administered the Sacrament to us. This time we used Jessie's tea set, and it was just so pretty I had to take a picture.
We studied and shared insights from this past week's Come Follow Me lesson for our church service and sang some hymns together. Our service lasted about an hour and was very enjoyable.
I talked the family into coming on a family history adventure with me for the afternoon, so we packed a picnic lunch and piled into Gordon't truck for a scenic drive to the Stephens City area.
First stop was to Stephen's Fort, a hexagonal structure that used to be a powder magazine to make ammunition during the Revolutionary War. (Located on Route 628, near the intersection of Minebank Rd) The building looks like it is now used as a shed or something, which is so sad. It needs to be registered and protected as a historical building!! It just sits on a property that appears to be abandoned, including the nearby house, but there are "No Trespassing" signs posted everywhere. I paid them no mind.
Adjacent to the property runs scenic Cedar Creek. After the fort no longer produced ammunition, it was later turned into a mill. Remnants of the mill can still be seen on the banks of the creek.
Click here:
https://photos.app.goo.gl/fR5au5E7wAMefJr4A
The reason why I find this place so interesting, besides the fact that it has significance to the Revolutionary War (!!), is that it has ties to my own ancestors.
I copied this from the History of Stephens City website: (https://newtownhistorycenter.org/town-history/beginnings-1732-1783/)
Stephens City was chartered in 1758 as the town of “Stephensburgh,” but its origins reach back into the early 1730s when Peter Stephens (1687-1757), an immigrant originally from Heidelberg, Germany, built his homestead on land that would eventually become part of the far southern end of the original town.
Stephens and his family, along with other German immigrants, came to the Valley of Virginia after spending some years in the Skippack Creek area outside of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Chief among this group of German colonists was Jost Hite (1685-1761), one of the purchasers of a large land grant in the lower Shenandoah Valley from the Governor of the Royal Colony of Virginia. Hite,
Stephens and other German Protestants came to the Shenandoah Valley as early as 1732 and established the “Opequon Settlement” south of what would later be known as the town of Winchester. This Opequon Settlement was not a town but a group of homesteads on land claims held by these early pioneers. Their land claims mostly stretched along the rich bottomlands next to the streams that emptied into the Opequon Creek and the Shenandoah River. These first homesteads were found in the area around the “Indian Road” or the “Great Philadelphia Wagon Road” (U.S. Route 11), in the core of what is today the central and southern part of Frederick County, Virginia.
Hite settled on the north bank near the headwaters of the Opequon creek in what would later be known as the community of Bartonsville. Peter Stephens established his claim on the North Branch of Crooked Run, a stream that would later be named Stephens Run in his honor.
My German ancestors came with Jost Hite from Pennsylvania and settled here and in the areas surrounding present-day Stephens City and Strasburg. Any history from that time frame would inevitably pertain to my family as well.
FUN FACT: An old episode of "Who Do You Think You Are" that featured Tim McGraw finding his roots, showed the discovery that he was related to Jost Hite. I have never forgotten that episode or that name, because as I learned about Tim McGraw's history in the Shenandoah Valley, I was learning about my own family at the same time.
Some of the sights during our meanderings:
We set our sights next for Bartonsville, but there was nothing there. NOTHING. The GPS took us to the "site" but it was just a somewhat inviting dirt road leading to who knows where. We decided to move on to the next stop: Opequon Creek, less than a mile away. (pronounced Oh-PECK-on)
My 6th great grandfather, Johannes Schnapp (John Snapp) purchased 400 acres along Cedar Creek near Little North Mountain in 1749. He also had parcels of land along Opequon Creek, and was part of the Jost Hite settlement.
We found a section of Opequon Creek that was accessible from the road and was maybe a quarter mile away from our last stop: the old Hite House. I tramped through weeds and brush to get down to the water's edge.
The water was a pretty and greenish color, but more of a teal green in some places.
Just around the corner was this old building, but it had no identification to know what its significance was.
And spitting distance away from here was the old John Hite House and estate along Opequon Creek. John Hite was the son of Jost Hite.
Opequon Creek ran across the road and was adjacent to the Hite property:
This photo shows the physical location: Route 649 intersecting with Hwy 11 near Stephens City, VA
All in all, it was a fabulous afternoon out on a Sunday drive with family - to find family. :)
Something I realized this past week is that the places I have researched and found corresponding land that my family used to own are all really close in proximity to each other! I created this map to help me see it all in one place.
And last but not least, I just love all the fun Scott and I have on our daily video chats. He is so kind and caring, silly and happy. He makes me so happy. He has a lot of facial expressions . . .
He couldn't hear me very well next to the blaring TV, so he had to lean in and really concentrate!
Part of his nightly routine is to get his favorite ice cream cone at the chow hall. I wish I were there to grab one too. We could go on a walk together and eat ice cream. :)
I'm looking forward to more adventures here in West Virginia this coming week. I pray every day for those suffering from the effects of COVID-19, also known as Coronavirus. I hope we can contain it and eradicate it soon. We are learning some important lessons during this experience, though. And I hope we can sufficiently humble ourselves as a people and look to our loving Father in Heaven to guide us and help us through these uncertain times.
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