History of Henderson County, Kentucky by Edmund L. Starling, 1887 Reprinted
Unigraphic, Inc., Evansville, IN, 1965, pp 626-628.  Henderson Co

     ANDREW JACKSON WORSHAM. -The young gentleman of whom this sketch 
tells, is the eldest living son of Elijah W. and Miriam Jane Worsham, and 
was born in Henderson County on the seventeenth day of May, 1850.  His 
father, by honest effort, faithful application, and fine judgement [sic], 
had gained from this world a competency sufficient to give to his children
such an education as they would take; therefore, our subject was given the
benefit of the best schools of his county, and afterwards sent to 
Poughkeepsie Commercial College at the city of that name in New York.  
Subsequent to that time, he matriculated at the Eminence Ky. Military 
College, where he finished his education with credit to himself and the 
father who had been so mindful of his son’s future interest.
     In the month of August, 1873, the father of our sketch removed to the
State of California, taking with him his entire family, and settled upon 
the San Joaquin River, near San Francisco.
     During the residence at that point, and on the night of the tenth of 
November, 1873, Mr. A. J. Worsham, the subject of whom we are writing, met
with the most exciting and distressing accident associated with his entire
life.  Before proceeding with the narrative mentioned, let us say that 
subsequent to that time, from 1875 to 1881, our subject lived at a little 
place called Banning, where he was engaged in merchandising.  Banning, as 
all far West towns are, was inhabited by a peculiarly ignorant and 
desperate class of people--Spaniards, cowboys and toughs generally.  Men 
were accustomed to ride on horseback into the stores, and, at the deadly 
end of a "British Bull Dog" or six-shooter, demand what was wanted and ride
out again.  Life was but a feather weight, and one and another shot down, 
was as innocent an amusement with them as coasting on a snow clad hill is 
to the children of our clime.
     This was the inevitable, and our subject soon found it out, yet he had
settled there, purchased property and invested his all, and that he fully 
determined to protect.  His admirable personal and social traits gained for
him friends among the toughest of the neighborhood.  His personal bearing 
showing no fear, but, at all times, exhibiting a courage undaunted by the 
display of weapons, won him other friends, and his proud Kentucky blood 
showed him so prominently beyond bulldozing that "Devil Jack," as he was 
known in his youth, soon became the head of the town and respected by all 
around him.  Many of the incidents connected with his life in Banning are 
thrilling, intensely interesting, and, were they committed to print in 
full, novelistic form, a story could be told that would make a volume.
     But back to the night of November 10th, 1873.  The day preceding this 
night was windy, bleak, chilly and cold, and, as the weary sun was lolling
in the West, the winds gained headway, and, as twilight came, so came a 
perfect windstorm.  Our subject, accompanied by a friend, had, during the 
day, sauntered along the shore of the great river, coasting in a sailboat,
not to kill the tedium of slow creeping day, but there was a mission of 
love, and when one has a big heart and feeble hands, a heart to hew his 
name out upon time as a rock, then immortalities [sic], to stand on time as
on a pedestal, danger presents no fears.  Racking night came, the wind drew
the pale curtains of the vapory clouds, and showed those wonderful, 
mysterious voids throbbing with stars like pulses of men.  Our subject and 
his friend, young, brave Duncan Cargill, bent upon love across the raging 
waters, bade their time with patience until patience ceased to be a virtue,
and go they must and go they would.
	"The King of Day had dipped his weary head
	Within old Father Ocean’s billowy bed."
     Yes, it was night when the little boat left its mooring, and the 
dauntless young men bended [sic] themselves to the work of the oars.  The 
river, at this point, was one and a half miles in width, and the rolling 
whitecaps flying housetop high, the wind howling as wolves for blood; yet,
on they went, the little boat mounting the madcaps and, swan-like, settling
gracefully in the valley, only again and again to be tossed high up.  Slow
progress was made, however; the sea grew worse and worse until our subject’s
blood ran back; his shaking knees against each other knocked, and he foresaw
that the dark-winged angel respects not time nor place.  He realized "All
seasons are thine, O Death!" and how true it was, for at eleven o’clock, the
boat capsized, the two were thrown into the cold waves,and soon thereafter,
the winds sweeping over its restless surface, sighed a requiem in the
trembling shrouds of poor Cargill.  Wave tossed and almost frozen, our
subject saw his comrade go down to the valley and shadow of death.
		
"What next?" he cried.
		"I know not, do not care.
		There’s nothing which I cannot bear
		Since I have borne this startling blow."
     The position in which he thus found himself, appalling as it surely 
was, seemed to nerve him to a determined and successful fight for life.  
Midnight came and found him still clinging to the capsized boat, fighting 
the waves.  One o’clock came with the same result; two, three and four 
o’clock came, and yet he was drifting.  At this hour he had drifted near 
shore and was almost unconscious.  A merciful providence, through a Mr. 
Sutherland, went to his rescue, lifted him from the water onto his shoulder
and carried him to his house, where blankets and other restoratives were 
administered and his life saved.  He revived in the course of time, but how
many could have successfully contended with the ordeal.
     On the seventh of June, 1876, not quite three years subsequent to the 
time of which we have been writing, Mr. Andrew Jackson Worsham (who is an 
"Old Hickory" in fact) was united in marriage to Miss Florence Rhorer at 
her home in the City of San Francisco.  They now have four children, John 
Cook, Miriam, Milton Young and Ludson.  Several years ago Mr. Worsham 
returned to Kentucky with his family and has since been engaged in the 
wholesale liquor and distilling interest.  He is a Republican in politics,
a Baptist in religious training, but by no means an enthusiast in the work
of any religious or secular work.  He himself is a consistent, hard worker,
attends diligently to his business and accords that same right to all his 
friends, who are numbered by the thousand. Our subject is a member of both 
the Odd Fellows and Knights of Pythias.

Worsham Southerland Rhorer
=
Poughkeepsie-Dutchess-NY San_Francisco-San_Francisco-CA Banning-San_Diego-
CA (now Banning-Riverside-CA)

http://www.rootsweb.com/~kygenweb/kybiog/henderson/worsham.aj.txt