Carolina Cuzzins

On March 19, 1997, three NC Lovelaces (Cecil, Doug, and Greg Lovelace) and their Yankee cousin (me) went researching in Rutherford and Cleveland counties in NC. The following are postings to the internet Lovelace List regarding their trip. Sound like fun? Join our list! E-mail me, Wendy Loveless Miller, or the list owner, Greg Lovelace .



	*Greg, Doug, & Cecil Lovelace in front of Washburn's store*

My trip to Rutherford Co. was wonderful, as I've told you already. By the end of the day, my shoes were so wet from stompin' in cemeteries with Wendy and Doug and Cecil.....my socks felt like they were down around my ankles!

Anyway, I was able to learn a tremendous amount from ol' cuzzin Doug. Not having ever lived in the area, my knowledge was extremely sparse. But Doug and Cecil took Wendy and I around (actually, I drove while Doug and Cecil gave me the dickens about my driving, my politics, and my basketball preferences, while Wendy just sat and laughed) telling stories and pointing out spots of interest. We went to Walls Baptist church, where the majority of my most recent Lovelace ancestors (and Cecil's) are buried. I saw the area where ol' Asa and Nathan lived, saw the spot where they are buried, saw old houses and heard stories or the people who lived in them. Doug is a wealth of local knowledge and lore and history. Cecil has a connection to both Doug and I, and we heard stories from him about various members of both families. All in all, aside from the merciless ribbing I took, I had a wonderful time.

I noticed Ol' Greg made an effort to clue you in on the Rutherford County Field Trip. But, he didn't really tell you all the story, so I guess it's up to me to finish it.

Doug and I were to meet Wendy, Greg, and Greg's Aunt Inez IN FRONT of the Rutherford County Courthouse at 11:00 A.M. sharp. I arrived about two minutes early expecting to find everyone either standing in the rain or sitting in their cars. As I eased into a parking place across from the courthouse, I noticed a man wandering aimlessly about the courthouse steps. As I drew closer, I realized it was Doug. About the same time, Greg pops out the courthouse door, Hardee's LARGE coffee in hand, wondering about his Aunt. I had to break the news.... she couldn't come.

As we started inside, Greg said, "Come on in, Wanda is in the records room looking up some old deeds." Wanda??? He finally woke up and explained it was Wendy. After Doug and I went in and met Wendy, everyone wanted to take off to Ellenboro, Walls Church etc. before the rain started to really get cranked up. Before we could get started, we learned that Greg had already wrestled the keys to the rental car away from poor Wendy. What a mistake! The man must have gotten his drivers license from SEARS. First place, He had no earthly idea where to go. Besides that, he peddles the accelerator when he drives, cause he doesn't know how to work the cruise control.

We arrived in Ellenboro, and I directed our "undesignated" driver to the family cemetery where Robbin (Robert) Greene, William Pinkney Greene, and others are buried. By this time it was raining cats and dogs so I stayed in the dry, since I had been sick for a few days. I had already been there and only one rock has any markings on it. That of William Pinkney Green, brother to Mary Ann Green, my great grandmother.

After that short stop, we moved on to Walls Church where we all left the comfort of the dry car to go stomping through the wet, soggy cemetery with umbrellas raised, to look at graves and try to make out some old markers. Greg and I both have most of our ancestors buried there. We finally made it back to the car (wet feet and all) and traveled to the old home place where I was born. Nothing looks the same now, but the house is still in use. We also drove past Greg's Grandfather's old place and then on to Washburn's Store. That is a trip within itself.

It's an old General Store that sells everything. I mean everything you can think of. It's been in the family for several generations. You can stop there for groceries, hardware, toys, animal feed, novelties and the like. You can buy a little read wagon, a tricycle, a pair of overalls, a new handle your ax, screen wire, or a butter press to make your home made butter on the farm. Everyone enjoyed that stop. In fact, that is where the picture was made. Oh, by the way, the store owner is also the local undertaker. Nice fellow.... he will be the last to let you down.

Here, I learned a lot. While Doug and I just jumped right in, we found that Greg doesn't know how to eat Barbecue. He wants to put vinegar on it. YUCK! Then there was Wendy, who eats hers without any sauce. As we enjoyed this time together, Doug continued to enlighten us to a lot of history. He's good..... knows everything, almost, except the father of William Lovelace b. 1815.

(1) Greg can't drive and talk at the same time. When he gets to talking, he forgets to drive.

(3) Greg is a true Lovelace, because he talks non-stop. Runs in the family..... no wonder Wendy just mostly listened.

(4) Wendy has only been in the South a few years and hasn't learned to say "y'all just right yet. She's working hard on it though.

(5) Doug, is the smartest Lovelace I have ever met. He is a computer whiz, a history buff, and an authority on the subject of genealogy.

You just never can tell how things will turn out when you put a computer whiz, a nurse, a scientist, and a preacher together for a few hours. Very educational, to say the least.

Well, since Cecil has me rolling in tears of laughter on the floor, I will have to post my side of the story. Since I am a reasonably well-bred Yankee type *snort*, my story is a little more reserved. The following is the post that y'all (catch that?) will see in the newsletter.

BTW, since Greg didn't tell me about the *Wanda* thing (shame, shame, we've only been corresponding a year!), I'll tell you what ELSE he did. When we first arrived, we thought Doug and Cecil might have been inside. Greg looked through a window and saw someone and said, "there's Doug." He went inside and then whispered to me, "I don't know if it's him or not." Then, he went up to the counter and slapped his hands down and said loudly, "I'm looking for Doug Lovelace." Since the guy next to him never looked up, we figured it wasn't Doug!

Despite Greg's protests that he is a *poor* state employed scientist, I picked him up Wednesday morning in front of the Radisson Hotel in Winston. (Greg will contend that the state paid for his room, but he was planning to stay there anyway.) The morning was rainy and the drive was long (about 2 1/2 hrs.), but we chatted all the way to Rutherford County and the time just flew by. Greg had brought me a BIG box of genealogical information, I looked through the box as we drove and talked about all the family lines.

Our first stop was at Hardee's for a cup of coffee. Actually, I had suggested we stop earlier, but Greg said he was O.K. for a while! We got to the courthouse before 11:00 a.m. and looked through some old records until Cecil and Doug arrived.

Like many of you, I had assumed that Greg, Doug, and Cecil had all been together frequently. In reality, they have only all been together once before. Greg said he was just getting into genealogy then and was a little overwhelmed by all the information they were sharing. But when these guys got together on this trip, it was like they had known each other forever. We spent a little time in the courthouse, but then hit the road to see some cemeteries before the rain picked up. As our internet users have seen, we all tend to tease Greg a little on-line. In person, he is even an easier target! Cecil and Doug were throwing barbs as fast as they could, and I kept trying to tell him how to drive (I have a sixteen-year-old at home in the driver's ed stage). Poor Greg took it very well.

There were a couple of Yankee comments sent my way; but, overall, my southern cousins were very polite. Cecil mentioned my *speech impediment* only a couple of times. Greg asked me who of the three had the strongest accent. I had to look toward Doug.

We first went to Cecil's stomping grounds. He was born and raised in Rutherford County, NC. He showed us his first home and the home he lived in after his marriage. He took us to a tiny cemetery with only one stone and told us stories about the area. We were so far back off the road that we were joking someone might think we were trespassing and come after us with a gun.

Late morning, we stopped at a local general store that doubled as a mortuary office. Doug said they sold bird dog overalls there. We went inside, and Doug showed me that the overalls did, indeed, have a Pointer on them. Cecil challenged me to identify a butter press that was for sale; he was surprised, I think, to see that I knew what it was. We wandered around the wooden floored store looking at the variety of merchandise while sipping on drinks that Greg kindly purchased for us. In the far corner was a bathroom with a sign by the door, "Please don't get the floor wet." Along one wall was a sunken area with a kerosene pump; Cecil said he had purchased kerosene there many times.

After seeing the cemetery in which most of Greg's ancestors were buried, we voted on where to have lunch. Doug asked which restaurant served the best tea, and the local barbecue joint was chosen. We looked at our menus which gave us the wide variety of beef or pork barbecue; sliced or chopped; large or small. Our plates came and only Greg and I couldn't identify the barbecued slaw. I had my sauce on the side, Yankee style. We sat and talked for quite a while; Greg had two more cups of coffee and the rest of us had tea. It was very enjoyable.

Cecil needed to return for his revival later that evening. We returned him to his car at the courthouse and said goodbye. The rain was still just drizzling, so Greg asked Doug to show him more of the *stomping grounds* of his ancestors. Doug, we found, is full of information about the people in the area and the local history. He has so many good stories that we have asked him to submit one per newsletter for each future issue. I hope he will, because they are fascinating and humorous stories. Doug has very colorful expressions like, "my head is so slick a fly couldn't land on it." I haven't laughed so much in a long time.

The weather turned colder as we saw the land of Asa and Nathan Lovelace. We passed James Lovelace Road and his homestead. At one point, we were stopped on the side of the road looking toward the location of Asa and Nathan's gravesites. A dog approached the car, swerving back and forth in front. I asked, "what is he doing?" Doug replied, "trying to decide which tire to bite!" Greg had to honk the horn and speed down the road to outrun the dog.

We headed over to Cleveland County, NC, where much of Doug's family is from. We discussed the various family members in the cemeteries, including one man who has one wife listed on one side of the stone; another listed on the other. Greg and Doug both have Hamricks and McSwains in their families too; nearly the whole cemetery was filled with these families. One woman's epitaph stated that her "life's warfare is ended;" Doug said that must have been some marriage.

By this time, Greg had another cup of coffee; he had an additional cup on the way home. That is only five cups for the day, far less than I expected!

As we were driving back to Winston, Greg asked me a question that I had never really pondered. If you were given the choice of receiving all your family history right now, so that there was nothing else to search for; all documented, stories, photos, etc.; would you take it? At first I said, "In a heartbeat," thinking only of my Loveless line. After all, I could still research all your lines. But Greg said the question was really that there would be nothing at all left to search for, no need to contact possible distant relatives, no need to tromp in wet cemeteries. If I had to give up days like the one I described above, the joyful experience of sharing the *puzzle* with my distant cousins whom I think of as friends, I would definitely answer, "no." What would be your answer?

I wanted to wait until all the wild stories were told before I gave y'all the facts. I believe all the tall tales have been told.

Wendy, a foreigner from OWE-HI-OWE, was most polite. We had never met, and I was pleasantly surprised, she didn't even act like a Northerner. We (Cecil and I) had to do some quick maneuvering though to get her outta the courthouse before they discovered she was a shhhh.... (Yankee). We then proceeded to less populated areas, cemeteries and general stores, where we engaged in a brief discussion of Southern burial practices, we felt obliged to squeeze some genealogy in amoungst (translated 'among') everything else. We looked at some prime farmland, which was mostly Carolina red mud at the time, then proceeded to the Bar-B-Q.

I want bother recounting the Bar-B-Q, though I will say the hushpuppies and onion rings were gooooood. Now to set the story straight. I'm sure Greg was complaining about the food, even as he filled his mouth. I remember hearing the grunts, though I couldn't understand what he was saying, and I hated to interrupt. Wherever did you learn to put food away like that, I sure am glad you didn't like it....the rest of us wouldn't have had a chance. I believe Greg even had dessert, pecan pie wasn't it. By the way, why did they put us in the backroom all by ourselves?

Greg's driving didn't really bother me, until we were faced down by that mongrel dog. I'd never seen a car held at bay by a dog before, amazing. Of course this happened within sight of my families burial grounds, I wanted to duck down in the car, just in case some of my ancestors were watching. Us Southerners are funny about stuff like that.

After 5 or 10 minutes of being held captive by the dog we (with Greg behind the wheel) drove out through the field to a cemetery, I believe it was a first maybe for Greg and Wendy. Shoot, whoever said cars had to stay on roads.

After that visit I showed them the town of Boiling Springs, where we filled the car with gas next to the local "pizza, subs and dry cleaning" establishment. It's a great time saver. After visiting a couple more cemeteries, we headed back to Rutherfordton, correctly pronounced "Rhul ler fer ton" around here. It was getting late so they headed out. I wern't concerned about Greg falling asleep after all that coffee he drunk. They probably had to stop three or four times for him to go to the bathroom though.

It was really a most enjoyable visit (we didn't see any local folks that knew me ...whew...). I am a little hurt that my own kin (Greg) didn't recognize me though, he never told me about that. I got to confess, we didn't do a lot of courthouse research, but a whole lot of "bonding" took place. I feel like I just got me another sister and a couple more brothers. If the rest of y'all ever decide to come through the area let us know, I'll be glad to show ya around, as I'm sure Cecil would also. Of course we may want to do the driving.

I think everyone enjoyed the time together. Never seen a Lovelace who didn't like fun. My Brother Wilbur, who died in an accident in 1972 was a real fun person. I remember once he was standing near our old place and he asked our young nephew, who was probably ten at the time, "Have you ever heard of Hog Back Mountain?" as he pointed at a high peak in the distance. Our nephew said, "Yes, I have," to which Wilbur replied, "Well that ain't it!" He once pointed out a woman he said was so cross-eyed, that he said when she cried, the tears ran down her back!

First off, thanks to Wendy for puttin' my photo on her web page for you all to see. I'm not bashful, and I'd actually like to see pictures of ALL of you guys. Now....to specific comments:

>There you are in all your splendor, holding your sodie bottle. And is that a dimple I see in your cheek? That's a Lovelace trait in Wayne's family too.

I think that's an artifact....either that, or its just a fold in my too-chubby cheek, 'cause I ain't NEVER had no dimples *grin*

>It also appears that our fearless leader is willing to take his caffeine in forms other than from a coffee cup! And here I thought he was as particular about his coffee as a Seattle-ite!

Now nobody has ever accused me of being a grungite before, either! In my defense, I'd like to say that I only had 4 cups o' coffee from the time Wendy picked me up til she dropped me off (about 13 hours or so). The Pepsi wasn't the only soda that was bought at Washburn's store, either, and I wasn't the only one to buy one ;-) About Washburn's store, this is close to where my grandfather lived, and my great-grandfather, and Cecil's kin, too. The store has been in operation since 1831, and is also the headquarters for E.N. Washburn, undertaker, and third generation store proprietor/undertaker.

>Anyway, I loved it! The three curmudgeons! Are they just gorgeous!
>Looked like they were absolutely up to no good. Greg, what in the
>world kinda "soda pop" were you swizzling down? Coffee Cola,
>new drink in town?

Hey, gal, Pepsi is a pretty good source of caffeine when you can't get a decent cup o' coffee [_]7 *wink*

>Gang, it takes a steel backbone to crawl in the car with those three running their mouths....let's hear it for Weeeen deeee!!

I agree. It was a leap of faith for Wendy to go travellin' with the three of us. But hey, I KNEW what I was doin', and I did it for the good of the list and for the NC bunch. Doesn't that count for anything? *grin*

>Oh, by the way, the store owner is also the local undertaker. Nice fellow.... he will be the last to let you down.

Oh Cecil! You are just tooo much!! *G* Thanks for sharing your day with us. We've all been sitting here wondering just what took place. I can understand why Greg likes vinegar on his bbq...he's from the east, and what do they know about bbq? And poor Windy grew up in the nawth. Give her time and she'll catch on. I'm with you...give me maters and sugar in my sauce!

It sounds as though y'all had a wonderful time. I hope next time I can join you. Tell you what...I'll bring the van and drive so you don't have to put up with Greg, ok? :)

>Wendy, a foreigner from OWE-HI-OWE, was most polite. We had never
>met, and I was pleasantly surprised, she didn't even act like a Northerner.

Shoot, I felt the same way about these Southerners. No one pulled a gun on me even once! They didn't make me listen to country music, and they didn't bring a license plate with a rebel flag to put on the front of the car! They didn't sing about cotton (though they did point it out to me in case I'd never seen cotton growing before), and they didn't even wear polyester cut-off shorts or sleeveless T-shirts. (Of course, it was cold outside.) Heck, I didn't even have tobacco spit or coon-dog hair to clean off the seats before I returned the rental car.

>We (Cecil and I) had to do some quick maneuvering though to get her outta the >courthouse before they discovered she was a shhhh.... (Yankee).

>I want bother recounting the Bar-B-Q, though I will say the >hushpuppies and onion rings were gooooood.

And that waitress wanted to bring me rolls! The hushpuppies were great. I forgot about the Pee-can pie Greg had. He even had it warmed up! We were the only folks sitting in the back room, though. I asked Greg if we were supposed to wait to be seated; he just gave me a funny look.

>After 5 or 10 minutes of being held captive by the dog we (with Greg behind the wheel) drove out through the field to a cemetery, I believe it was a first maybe for Greg and Wendy. Shoot, whoever said cars had to stay on roads.

Well, as you recall, you had just told us a story about how a grave had fallen in from rot. I was picturing the car being sucked forever into the red muddy ground and having to explain that to the rental car lady. Also, I noticed that you had us turn the car around before we stopped so that it would be facing downhill in case we couldn't get it out of the mud; that way we wouldn't have to *push* against gravity.

That's really sweet, Doug. I know how hard it is for you southerners to warm up to us Yankees. I'd feel right privileged to be an honorary sis!

> In my defense, I'd like to say that I only had 4 cups o' coffee from the time Wendy picked me up til she dropped me off (about 13 hours or so).<BR>

Not to quibble or anything, but we genealogists do like to keep out facts straight and I think Doug can back me up on this. Greg had FIVE cups of coffee (not counting any he might have guzzled in the hotel secretly before I got there). One at Hardee's when we first got to Rutherfordton which he left on the windowsill of the courthouse while we were inside, two for lunch (perhaps he counts those as one), one at the gas station (I have a picture of him holding it in the Boiling Springs cemetery), and one at Hardee's on the way home.

> The Pepsi wasn't the only soda that was bought at Washburn's store, either, and I wasn't the only one to buy one ;-)

Correction again, Greg, our fearless leader. You were the only one buying - you bought for us all, thank you very much! You weren't the only one drinking, though. And, to be fair, we all did slug down some tea at lunch (to cover up the taste of barbecued slaw, ugh! - no self-respecting Yankee would eat that!).

>I wanted to wait until all the wild stories were told before I gave y'all the
>facts. I believe all the tall tales have been told.

>I'm sure Greg was complaining about the food, even as he filled his mouth. I remember hearing the grunts, though I couldn't understand what he was saying, and I hated to interrupt. Wherever did you learn to put food away like that, I sure am glad you didn't like it....the rest of us wouldn't have had a chance.

>Greg's driving didn't really bother me, until we were faced down by that
>mongrel dog. I'd never seen a car held at bay by a dog before, amazing. Of course this happened within sight of my families burial grounds, I wanted to duck down in the car, just in case some of my ancestors were watching.

You wound me again, cuz! I was watching the dog's behavior......he was definitely in "hunt" mode, and I was studying his movements and such, being the scientist that I am.

>I am a little hurt that my own kin (Greg) didn't recognize me though, he never told me about that.

Now, cuz......If that guy in the courthouse had been talkin', I would've known for sure it wasn't you. Remember, I've talked to you quite often, but before this trip, I had only seen you once, and that was a number of years ago.....

Me, too.....even if they do pick on me. Come to think of it, that's what my real sister did to me all through childhood!

Didn't I tell ya we were gen-teel down here? <grin>
But if you remember, Cecil was tryin' to switch seats quite often so's he could "spread the mud around".......

OK, I hafta draw the line here......no discussions of my bodily functions allowed!

I agree with Wendy......there was a lot of contribution to global warming that day.....hot air abounded!

Hey, I gotta get my licks in when I can....y'all didn't leave me with too many openings! <grin>

>I've been so far behind on reading my email lately, I just finished reading all the accounts of Wendy, Greg, Doug and Cecil's tromp through Rutherford and Cleveland Counties. Y'all really did crack me up with your stories!

Wish we could've met up with you and taken you along......somehow that was one detail that didn't get taken care of :-(( Sorry, Wanda........

>Sounds like y'all had great fun - loved seeing the picture! Now....why didn't you guys take one of Wendy??

Well, I tried, but she wouldn't let the camera out of her steel grip!
Wendy don't like photographs! Reckon she's supernatural in some way?????? *grin*

Just wanted to share one more thing with you guys about the trip. My favorite line of the whole trip came from Doug. When we were all getting out of the car at Washburn's store, I asked if we needed to lock the doors. We had genealogical papers scattered all over the inside. Doug said, "Nahh.....it's just readin' material....they won't be interested in that."

Carolina Cuzzins: A Genealogical Jaunt