I had a long talk with Uncle Guss and Cousin Walter Mixson yesterday; the only two I recall who intimately knew Great Grandfather Mixson, and they were tottering as they waver on the brink. It seems only a few years since you could get information from any number of people on the hills around Tabernacle. Many are the stories I have heard through the years from them, but alas they are all gone.  

I knew this was probably the best chance I would ever have to get some history of the Mixson family, so I asked many questions; some was about things I had heard before, and wanted them to verify, while others were about what they knew in general. They both seemed to enjoy the conversation, and I thoroughly did. I am hereby jotting down a few notes about things I have heard and remember over the years.  

My father once told me that Great Grandfather William Mixson (see #22) never told much about his past, and all that anyone knew was that his father was named Elijah who died when Wm. Mixson was only a lad. He was reared by an uncle and I understood that he and Great Grandmother Julia both were orphans, and both reared by the same man. She was a Harris before her marriage to Great Grandfather. They were born and reared in North Carolina but moved to Georgia, where most of their family was born. Their oldest daughter, Mary, was married in Georgia; she died when her first child was born, and they adopted the daughter she left. Her name was Elizabeth.

Soon after this we find William Mixson migrating west on tar polled wagons pulled by oxen; these early wagons had wooden axels with a steel plate embedded on both the top and bottom of the spindle. The wooden hubbed wheels were held on by steel pins instead of nuts, end the were lubricated with tar instead of grease. Before starting one would always have to go around and shake his wheels to break the tor loose so the wheels would roll instead of sliding on the ground. We don't know the cause of his migration, but think he was in search of the best of the vast wilderness of land which was to be had just by the taking. He had his meager household goods plus a complete set of blacksmith tools, which included all the augers and other tools it took to make one of the tar rolled wagons like the one he was riding.  

His biggest cargo was that of thirteen children, plus one orphaned Grandchild, all of whom were fibers, destined to be woven into the cloth of the life of the community which he chose.  

Many days passed with him always scanning the hills in the West always hoping beyond the stream would. be better. Many nights found them encamped by a spring or stream, but none passed without prayer and thanksgiving.  

One night while encamped on the bank of a rather large creek, they were visited by a wild. animal which scared the cattle they were driving through the country with them. They didn't know what kind of animal it was, for it didn't try to attack, but just the scent of it scared the cows. This was the only cow they had that was giving milk that was so vital to the feeding of the smaller children, that broke loose. It was feared that she couldn't be found in this vast wilderness. Before sunrise the following morning he was out trailing her; they or rather the trail led from the creek out over a hill. He reached the top of this hill just as the sun rose to where it could be half seen coming up over another hill. About that time he heard the tinkling of the home made bell which he had tied around his cow's neck. While listening to hear the direction of the bell he heard the shrill crow of, what the early settlers called a wild chicken, could be heard above the rithomic tinkling of the cow.  

I don't know what this bird was that the early settlers found here; I believe they were grouse. They were smaller than our regular chicken and they didn't last very long because the early settlers would hear them crowing at daylight and. soon killed them out.  

While standing there he saw a dim, but definitely a grey smoke far to the north and west, and surmised there yeas a settlement there.  

He had completely fallen in love with the place before he left the hilltop. Then he hurriedly rounded up his cow, and went to tell his wife Julia what he had seen and heard.  

True to his expectations, he soon came to a road turning to the right off of the main trail. He took it and soon came to the settlement that he was looking for.  

The settlement proved to be more than he had hoped to find; although widely scattered, he found many good people. What pleased him most was finding a Methodist Society. They had a church once, but had built it on public land and a Mr. McKinnie had homesteaded the land where it was and received possession of the church, but it wasn't long before they built another.  

The land was of rolling hills; it was not so fertile, but it did contain phosphorus and potash which much of the land lacked. Many chestnut trees were found which had provided food for the Indians for so long, but they were not for the white man because with the coming of civilization the American chestnut began to blight and are almost extinct today. There are probably a few of the trees still living up on this section; a few days ago I knew of one. I guess I should have said a tow years ago instead of a few days ago, because after all, it has been quite some time.

Not only did he like the land, the rolling hills, but he found a community who needed a man of his trade, a blacksmith. Instead of carving a home and homestead out of the wilderness; he bought a place that had already been settled from a Mr. William Dubose, and started working his trade. For many years thereafter he made the only wagons, buggies, plows, hoes and other tools that were used for miles around.  

The following year he sent his oldest son William, and a slave named George, back to Georgia for some sugar cane which proved such a delight for the whole community. The settlers had plenty of bread and wild game to eat, but sweets were a rarity, Not only did they like to chew the sweet sap out of the stalk, but a story was once related to me about one of the neighbors little boy rubbing his little, but well peached, out stomach which was hurting him on the account of the berry pie that he had eaten too much of. The pie had been sweetened with the sweet sop of cane.

Heretofore I have devoted my paces to the migration and settling of W. M. Mixson in this country. Now I will attempt to tell you something about the man according to what I have learned from talking to people who knew him.

He was a coarse featured man with a dark complexion and had big ears. A very outspoken man was he; a man who never drifted with the tide, but would express his opinion regardless to opposition. This was proved when the Civil War came on, not many years after he settled. I don't know his opinion on slavery, although I do know he owned one slave, Old George. I also know he was against the Civil War, and very outspoken about it. He was also against the M. E. Church South splitting off from the mother church, and instrumental in getting another M. E. Church as soon as the war was over. He was so outspoken against the Civil War that there was a threat of lynching him at one time, not by the better people off the neighborhood, but by renegades and rowdies who were trying to keep the public from seeing their own short comings. Even though he was a devout Christian, he was not a coward and was not afraid of them. He knew how to forge good steel. He made himself a blade and said he would get one of them if they came after him. To show what cowards these renegades and rowdies were; one of W. M. Mixson's sons, Barzilla, came home on leave from the war, found out where they were staying and had been drinking for several days; went over there and pulled a board off the cotton house and beat the whole crowd. He told them while he was off fighting for his country they were trying to lynch his daddy. This wound up the lynching threat.

Regardless to how W. M. Mixson felt about the Civil War, all of his sons went to it; not as conscripts, but as volunteers. The oldest, W. C. Mixson would have been exempt from conscription, but he said anyone who wouldn't fight for his country didn't deserve a country, so he joined and went as a lieutenant. The youngest son, Marion, just became of age, and got to Eufaula on his way when the war was over.

Before we pass on from the life of W. M. Mixson, here's just a word about that wonderful helpmate, Julia, and my Great Grandmother. I regret to say that it will only be a few words, for she., like many other helpmates who make things possible, was content to remain in the background, and I know very little about her. With what little I know, I can visualize volumes, but can't put it on paper as history. A woman who bears fourteen children, rears thirteen of them and one grandchild to man and womanhood, and they marry with never a divorce among them; I would say she deserves a whole volume, but I will have to be content with telling a little of her life in her later years.

Even with the bearing and rearing of these fourteen children, life was never a race with. her. She always found time during the day to smoke the old clay pipe of hers, which had a long reed stem; a past time which many old women of' her day enjoyed. She and Old Mrs. Cotter used to enjoy sitting around, spinning or weaving cloth. They always kept a bed of coals covered up in the ashes for which to light those old clay pipes with ever, so often, but tobacco was too scarce for a long siege of smoking. They would just light up, take a few puffs, press on it with their finger to put it out and save that tobacco.   In a previous page I related to the thirteen children and one Grandchild of W. M. Mixson's as being fibers destined to be woven in the cloth of the life of the community of his choosing. In due time this came about, but first there had to be age, and with are came love, and in love they chose their helpmates as following:

( I am giving their given name, according to age, and the sir name of the one to whom they married) Mary married an        

Mary married an         Edge
Nancy married an       Hayes
William Cicaroe           Law
Barzilla H.                  Stokes
Elizabeth Jane            Lee
Margret C.                  died at the age of nineteen.
Henry Josephis           Snellgrove
Winnie Ellen                Dupree
Healan P.                    Metcalf
John Elijah                 Cole
Julia Sophia                Snellgrove
Francis Marion            Law   

Most of these had large families who in turn again were woven into the community life, and on down the line to where most of the people for miles around are descendants of W. M. Mixson.