I've decided in celebrating my existance, thought I might start celebrating some of my forefather's and mothers that came before me and are responsible for me to be here today. So once a week I'll share a little I know about them. This is my great great great great grandmother Vickers. She was born in 1815, daughter of Micajah Paulk and Mary Catherine Young, both who were blind. She married Jesse Vickers. She was left a widow young. Jesse died at 24 years old. She reared all of her children in credit, the sucess they have acieved in life is a monument to her life and labors. She founded Hebron Church and was the central figure in that church as long as she lived. She was held in high esteem. When she died, the old homemade chair (hickory and a rawhide bottom) where she sat during the last days of pilgrimage on earth, was placed up against the wall near the pulpit and remainted there until 1970 when the church burned down by arsonist. There are many stories I remember my Pepa telling me about her but the one that seems to stand out the most from all others. There used to be a buggy trail alond what is now Baker Highway and they had a large foot-log across Reedy Creek to the church on the other side. According to what Pepa said, there came a big flood, a downpour, and it washed the footlog out of place. Rebecca went down there with some of her farm workers and they took an oxen with them to try and pull the log back into place. They worked down there a half-day and couldn't get the foot-log back into place. After a while Rebecca just backed off and said to the men, "Let's load up and go home. The Lord moved the log and if He wants it put back, He'll have to put it back. We can't do it" Not long after that there came another flood on the Satilla River and the river backed up and floated the log back into place across the creek.
Rebecca was a hard worker, she did have many black farm workers, but she didn't regard them as "slaves". She even integrated their church and some of her black workers were preachers and preached there. On the third Saturday and Sunday of the month, they would all load up in the ox carts and go to church in the morning and stay all day long. You wouldn't seee them going back home in their ox carts until the sun was going down just above the treetops. After the Civil War and the slaves were freed, a black man named Peter (Vickers) had been so faithful to Rebecca that she gave him a farm up there in that community. My Pepa said they even called him Uncle Peter and his wife Aunt Betsy because they were like family to them. She also passed down the famous chicken and dumpling receipe's that my mom's family are known for.
Great Great Great Great grandma Vickers was a woman of some property and as a guardian for her children, she had a unique way of keeping books. A strong strip of cloth was hung on the wall and a pocket was made for each child. When a cow was soold, the proceeds were carefully placed i the proper pocket, and in this way, her accounts were always kept correct. Peace to the honor of such a mother. I honor her memory.
This was kind of fun.