WELCOME


~ The pieces are all sewn together, stitched with love.........and a quilt tells a story and the story is our past ~

The Arrowood family immigrated from England to Maryland in the 1700's. They went south, eventually settling in the mountains of North Carolina. Later , some went further south, into the Piedmont of North Carolina, in search of work and a better way of life.



I am in search of my family.

I search for those that came before me, and lived their lives as best they could. I am in search of their stories, how they lived, and how they loved.


I shared this love of seeking the past with my Dad, sharing each new finding with him, the thrill in his heart intermingling with mine. I continue this search in his honor, and hope to know these people of ours when I join up with them all in heaven.

~ Steve Lewis Arrowood 1932-2008 ~


Come with me, back to a simpler time and place. A place far removed from the hectic pace of today. To a time when life was hard, but the rewards were great. When your quality of life was determined by your own sweat, your own toil, and your own ingenuity.


Would you like a glass of sweet tea? Let's sit out on the porch where we will catch the sweetly scented breeze of summertime. Maybe Grandma will fry up some of her wonderful chicken... Time slows here.

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"We shape our lives not by what we carry with us, but what we leave behind."

~You live as long as you are remembered.~


"Our most treasured family heirlooms are our sweet family memories. " Author: Unknown


"But those who came before us will teach you. They will teach you from the wisdom of former generations."

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Showing posts with label Isabell Correll Arrowood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Isabell Correll Arrowood. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 8, 2013

Aunt Minnie Lankford

 
 
 
 
Arminda "Minnie" Arrowood married William Walter Lankford.
 
She and Walter are buried at Gaston Memorial Cemetery in Gastonia, North Carolina.
 
Minnie was born on June 13, 1893 in Mitchell County, North Carolina to
Welzia Augustus Arrowood and Isabell Correll Arrowood.
 
 
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Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Service at Mt. Olivet ~ A Step back in time


Those that remember and love Mt. Olivet,  gather faithfully each year for the annual service.
The descendants of those buried here still gather and will never forget.
They have established a committee and fund drive to keep the tiny church in good condition and maintained.
The cemetery has its own fund and is well taken care of, thanks to those that care.
God Bless each and every one of you!

The modest altar inside the church.

The view from the cemetery ~

The stone in fhe foreground on the left is Welzia A. Arrowood's, the next stone in the middle, is Sarah Ellender Winters Arrowood Miller's, and the one on the right, is Isabell Correll Arrowood's, wife of Welzia.



The stacked stone foundation columns have been replaced with brick ones, after a windy storm knocked the tiny church off its foundation.


Friday, February 10, 2012

Arminta "Minty" Correll Sellars ~ Great Grand Aunt

This is a newly "discovered" photograph of the baby sister of Isabell Correll Arrowood, my great grandmother.
What a thrill to see this.

Many  special thanks to my two, new-found cousins, from the Correll family.
Being sent  a photo like this,  is like finding a treasure to a gal like me!

Thank you, Carol & Victor!

** ~ **




She and husband, Hiram Watson Sellers are buried at Red Top Primitive Church Cemetery (Chilhowee) in Happy Valley, Blount County, Tennessee.


*****

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

A Journey Thru Time ~ Mount Olivet Church



The sunny afternoon was a delight; nice , but not too warm. The tiny white framed church's doors and windows were flung wide open, beckoning us to come on inside.

 A service at the tiny Mount Olivet church is a sweet, wonderful, inspiring experience. The wooden planks in the floor are rippled and wavy, the small slatted wooden walls are showing their age, but the stories that old wood could tell us, would be amazing.




The windows were once again propped open with planks, and the cool springtime breeze wafted past me in the pew. An occasional bumble bee floated in on the breeze, but I figured all were welcome here.

The bees politely stayed up in the high ceiling area and left us worshippers alone.



The oil lamps are positioned around the perimeter of the room. I was told they used to have a larger lantern to light the night services. I would have loved to have attended one of those!



This tiny country church first opened it's doors way back in 1879. It is on the Historical Registry as the 'only remaining one room wooden Methodist church' in Gaston County.



The winds came some time back,  and they blew this tiny church nearly off her foundation but she still stands firm. The rocks were replaced with bricks and mortar and she remains where she belongs. Keeping her place in history and firmly standing where she will, hopefully, well into the future.



There are plans underway to keep this tiny church restored and the cemetery kept up with, as well.

Contributions to this cause are always accepted. If you wish to donate to the preservation of this tiny church attached to our family and to my heartstrings, just contact Judy Shannon at 704-867-4713.



This year, Joe Carpenter presided over the memorial service and Reverend Richard Cloninger gave the sermon. It was a beautiful service.



Old timey hymns were raised to the glory of the Lord, with the help of Wilma Craig, playing the old style pump organ. We all sang heartily with Wilma kindly requesting that we limit the number of verses sung on each hymn, because her leg was 'plain giving out' pumping that old organ. Grin.




It just doesn't get any more 'old-timey' than that, folks.

I took in the sights and smells of the wonderful old church ,as we sat there on those scarred wooden benches.

I let my mind travel back in time to a simpler place, when life was slower paced. I think I would have enjoyed living in that time, but I would have definitely missed  the air-conditioning.


I met a man after the service that beamed when I spoke to him. He glowed with love for the place and you could tell how special it was to him. He recalled coming to services as a child with his grandmother and he showed me the wooden cross that sat on the altar in front of the pulpit. He had made it himself in shop class , years ago and donated it to the church. It was lovely.


An old framed portrait of Jesus hangs on the wall,  behind the pulpit.

 The spirit of our Lord was surely in that place.



The average age of those attending this service was about 75, I would say. This is a sad fact to relay. The ones that truly love this place are getting older, and we are losing them one by one. I heard of a number of those connected to the church that have passed in just the last year. I was among the youngest ones there. We are the ones that will carry the torch forward for this tiny church. I do not want this torch to be laid by the wayside. I consider this place my heritage, too.


I spoke with Wilma Craig, who has vast knowledge of the history of this tiny church, about our Welzia and his possible role in this church. He is not officially listed among those that pastored here, but I feel sure that he must have preached here a time or two. His heart was surely here, or he would not have wanted to be laid to rest here.

I went out after service and paid my respects to him and Isabell..as well as Great grandma Sarah Ellen Winters Arrowood. Surely they were all smiling down from heaven, watching the service from above.


The crowd gathered after the service outside, inside the white picket fence that surrounds the cemetery.

They served cookies and lemonade to all in attendance.

I thought it was lovely to gather among those long gone, in fellowship.

I made my way among the stones, looking for a Maypop vine. Dad loved to come here to pick those Maypops, but it is a tad early for those, I guess.




A wonderful old timey Sunday afternoon....sigh...

Thursday, December 2, 2010

'Looking Back Toward Home' ~ Happy Valley ~ Story by S. Correll


Awhile back I told you about our cousin who had found me . He is a descendant of the Correll family that lies buried in the Boone Cemetery , up in Happy Valley, Tennessee.


Our Isabell's family. (Isabell Correll married Welzia A. Arrowood)

His tree traces back up the same main root as ours does. He was separated from his father's family at a young age. His parents split up and he had little contact with his father's side of the family. The years passed and he married and had a family of his own.

He began to think about his roots, as most folks do, and began the search to find them. He got in touch with a girl that I had emailed, during my search, and she pointed him in my direction. Sure enough, he was from our line. He was so excited! And so was I !

He logs onto my little blog and leaves it up at work, to listen to the old-timey music. He says it feels homey and comforting to him. It does that same thing for me. :-) Must be our roots. Grin.


Well, he made it ' back home' all the way, this fall. He did it!

He went to Happy Valley and stood there on that knoll over looking that beautiful valley and touched his past.

He wrote and told me and you could just feel his emotions pouring out of that email.

Before I could finish reading it, I was crying, too.


Excerpt from Steve's email:

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Martha, I think if we grew up in 'them there hills' and down in the valley, we would/could have known each other a long time ago.


I pretty much see that yours, and mine, pretty much take up, make up, Boone Cemetery, and OOOO, but what a great place to be buried in.


Trees, fresh air, and a view.. What a view..When the trumpets sounds, it looks like our kin as high up on the mountain, as they are, could very well be the first in line, at the Pearlie Gates.


I think 'Our Kin' were hard pressed to the land with tough times and tougher life styles, I just pray they looked up and around them, at the wonder and beauty of this place, somehow I think they did..

Cus Steven
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Reading what this dear cousin wrote, and how the experience of visiting Boone Cemetery and Happy Valley affected him, enforces that he is, without a doubt, one of us.. Kindred Blood - A Correll. GRIN

He sent me pictures of his adventures and I would have dearly loved to have "went back home" with him.

What a wonderful trip that had to be. I know how special it was to me.. A 'never forget' moment!
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Message From Cousin Steve:

Hello Martha:
Happy Thanksgiving Day, and for your upcoming holiday's. Yes, I would love for you to write some more about my journey, Looking 'back toward home' ... :)

Your writings are good for the soul to me/all who read, its a gift you have and share with the world, thru your blog. (thanks so much, Steve! that means the world to me)

Some notes I jotted down from the trip, hope they help some ...
With your help, and the Arrowood / Correll website, I have learned more in the last six months, about my Mountain Heritage and our kin folks, than I have known for the past 60 years of my life.

I been away from there so long, and I only have the memories as a small child, in Happy Valley, way back in the early 50's .... It's just I wasn't running from my past, I just never went looking for it either.

I started down this path, equipped only had a few fond memories of the faded faces, and soft voices, the few faint remembrance's of my distant family now long past.
I remember a few places too, but most have been lost in time from my Happy Valley past.

But now with some help of some new found friends and some newly found family, I have enough information, to start into my family tree. I planned a short trip, to Happy Valley, and the Cade's Cove area, for the ending of the fall break. Its been some 55years, before the Mountain Valley tugged hard enough for me to take notice, and come...back toward home.


You see, on my grandfather's side are the Corrells from Happy Valley, and on my grandmother's side are the Tiptons, from Cades Cove, so the tug is pretty strong.


It was the last weekend in October, over the fall break, that I returned to the Mountains and the Valley, I once called home.




I drove down from Indiana to Tennessee, and arrived in Pigeon Forge late in the afternoon, on Saturday.


Armed only with the knowledge obtained from a few emails, and information from your website, on the Arrowood/Correll family ties, along with Find-a-Grave website, and Goggle Earth maps, I drew out a plan to search and find four cemeteries.


Lower Chilhowee cemetery, Upper Chilhowee cemetery, Happy Valley cemetery, and Boone Cemetery.


As you say Martha, I was another 'rabbit' turned loose, and in need of searching and finding information about those who footprints I followed from my past ancestors.


I wanted to find, and see my ancestors for the first time, close up and personal, so to say.


I wanted to kneel and touch their Tombstones and feel the soil they were laid to rest in.


I wanted to see where I was from, and where my people were from.

I left Pigeon Forge, about 3 in the afternoon, heading toward Townsend on route 321.
I found the Foothills Mountain Parkway and drove down southwest toward Chilhowee.

I made an important discovery right then as I viewed out my car window, why our ancestor's might have stayed in this area.

I found out while driving that high parkway road, that I needed to stop a few times, it was an area southwest, what is called Look Rock on my map, I needed just to gaze out the car window, over the Happy Valley area landscape.

The Valley is deep down, and runs for a ways out of sight, both left and right of my view.

It's backed up, on the far side, by the mountains and just over those mountains, with what I pictured in my minds eye, is Cades Cove, not much farther away.


From my reading and research, our kin moved into this area, thru the Cove, down along the Abram's creek into the Valley area.


As I was standing there with tears in my eyes, I was seeing what our ancestors must have seen, to me it's one of the most beautiful areas or places on Earth, God has made.

It was late afternoon, the sun was just right, shining from behind me, down on the leaves, they were the bright colors of fall, there was a glint of a stream down low in the bottom land, and there was peace in this valley.


I could feel, it's hard to describe, but am sure our ancestors must have felt it too, and that's why they made this this area, their home.


Down the road, at both Chilhowee cemeteries, I found names of my uncles and aunts and cousins I had not known, but now will do some research on.


Up the road in the Happy Valley cemetery, I found Nancy Clementine (Tipton) Correll, who is my Grandmother, buried there. I was only 6 months old, when she died, but as I knelt and prayed at her grave, I think I could see her, as she smiled down at me. Boone cemetery was my last stop for the day and it was getting late.


You get to it from the Valley road, and its location is somewhere between Chilhowee Baptist church and Happy Valley Baptist church. The cemetery of Boone is located high up on a ridge, with only a small sign along the road, to let you know where the path starts up.


I parked along the bottom of Happy Valley road, because the road heading up to the cemetery, was washed out with ruts and groves, I was sure I could not drive up, with my 'city-fied' car. I walked up the road to the top, not knowing what I would find and along the way up, there were some billy-goats grazing along the side of the mountain there.


I could here gun shots in the distant, and it make me think of past times our ancestors hunted deer, turkey, and wild bore, just to have something to eat, to survive in this area. It was a steep climb, but soon made it to the top of the hill, up the old dirt path road, and once there, I found this very small cemetery right on top.

Its a small fenced in cemetery, maybe no more then 30 or 40 tombstones, buts it's ours, the Corrells, the Arrowoods, and the Borings. I thought, neighbors we were in life, and longer still are we neighbors, in Death.

There was my grandfather, Joe Thomas Correll, who I remember calling "Daddy Joe", and not many paces from his grave, was my Great Grandfather William (Bill) Correll, (brother of Isabell Correll) and GGGrandfather David Correll.

I had to stop a moment, I couldn't see where I was going, I wiped my eyes with my shirtsleeves, and started to look around behind me, to my surprise there were my footsteps too ...... mixed in amongst my ancestors.

I stood still while looking at all around me, the tombstones, the view from high up on the mountain, and thought, I found what I came looking for, here are my ancestors, my kin, my roots, it's an Honor to walk among them.

These graves are shaded by some huge old oak trees, and I gathered a few of the acorns that had fallen on the graves, to give to my daughters, and to the grandchildren, and to remind me of this place, as I retell my story to them.


As I looked out again once more, over the valley, before heading back down the mountain to the car below, I think I gained a lot more respect for what some people call "Hill-folk", some my say 'Hill-Billy'.

I was proud of my Heritage.

This Mountain and Valley with all its beauty and splendor, demanded a lot from all those that lived here once, long ago. It had to be a tough existence, just to live and get by, making a living out of the daily struggles you and your family experienced.

Respect for them, you bet, these folks were tough, I was so proud just to think I came from them, it just about made me do a little buck dance, just like I did when I was 5 for my daddy. I traveled to Cades Cove the next day and did the loop road.

I was lucky to be at the Cades Baptist Church about 10:30ish on Sunday morning, there was a small group of local Baptist, who comes there the third or forth Sunday of each month, and they played a little music and preached a bit. I thought, so strong in their faith, our ancestors were, too.

The service was short and to the point, but as I sat there in the old pews, it's as though loved ones from the past were there, too, and with tears in my eyes again, I prayed and thanked those who came before me. As the service ended, we sang 'Amazing Grace', I sang it so those above could hear me.

Afterwards, I walked the path behind the church to the old cemetery, and sure enough there were the Tipton's tombstones there, too, I felt a kinship to them, too. The drive around the Cove was as beautiful as the mountain tops and Valley drive, the day before.

I made the complete circle and left the Cove back out thru the park, and again thought what a beautiful place it would have been to grow up in. The next day I started the journey back up North, but now my heart is much fuller and richer than it was just a few days before. I am energized and feel a need to do more research and dig deeper into our roots.

I will to return in the Spring, but this next trip I am bringing my two daughters, and three grandsons, so they too, will see the footsteps that have gone before us. I hope they begin to feel the tug of their Heritage sooner then I did, and to explore their roots before time passes by, too quick.

I hope to give and share with them, some of this same feelings I have received and felt over these last few days.

As the cold winter moves thru Indiana this year, I will continue to 'Look Back Toward Home', thinking on family and places time has gone by....

Wishing you all Traveling Graces, this Holiday season, Hoping you all share with those young ones, that follow us, stories of old times, of by gone days, so they know what steps to follow, as we all 'Look Back Toward Home'.

To all the readers of Arrowood Through the Mountains, if any one has remembrance's of the family or friends, of Kenneth Correll < Joe Thomas Correll & Nancy "Clemmie" Correll please email me thru a 'comment' on the blog. Martha will see that I get the message. Steve Correll Thank you so much, Steve, for allowing me to share this with the family!

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Fielden and Lillie Arrowood


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Fielden Winfred Arrowood was the third child born to Welzia and Isabell Correll Arrowood.
Fielden “Phil” Arrowood was born July 13, 1883. He married Lillie Miller. Lillie was born April 25, 1888.

He and Lillie had six children. First born was Maggie in 1908, then came Luther Martin on January 09, 1909. The next child was Bessie Mamie Arrowood in 1912, then they had Lonnie "Lone" Arrowood. The last two were Glenn Henry, on May 08, 1916, and sister Helen, who was born after Fielden’s death.

Fielden passed away on September 07, 1918, in Gastonia , North Carolina, at the age of 36. He was buried at Mt. Olivet Cemetery in Gastonia. The death certificate says he died from a stomach ulcer.

He and Lillie were on the 1910 census records, shown as living in the township of Bradshaw in Mitchell County, North Carolina. They must have moved to Gastonia sometime within the next seven or eight years. I located Fielden and Lillie in the Gastonia Directory, in the year of 1918.




After Fielden died and as the years passed, Lillie and her children fell out of touch with the Arrowood family. I found out that Lillie lived in Gaston County until her death on September 23, 1976. Apparently she never remarried. I found Lillie on the Belmont City Directory.




In later years Glenn Henry and his wife, Hazel, would gather with us at our family reunions. Glenn married Hazel Warren and had two children, a girl and a boy. Sadly, Glenn passed away on October 24, 2004 in Mecklenburg County, N.C. He was always quick with a smile, a handsome man.


Sunday, August 2, 2009

Service at Mount Olivet, Gastonia ~


The Arrowood Family Crest





Mt. Olivet Methodist Church, Gastonia, North Carolina



I had the chance to go to a service at Mt. Olivet one bright day in May. The cars lined up along the road leading up to the tiny church. The sun shone bright against the dazzling white whitewash of the building. The doorway was small and narrow, inside were bare plank floors and you could smell the age of those boards. Not a bad smell, just a slightly musty, woody smell. I thought of the souls that had crossed that doorway a long time back..and I thought about the soles of the shoes that scuffed along those old worn boards. There was a spot empty beside the window, on the end of a pew and I found my seat. The window was large paned and held open by a chunk of wood. The smell of spring and honeysuckle coming through the open window is something I will not forget. Looking out that window, I could see the headstone of Welzia, my great grandpa. I looked at the pulpit and tried to imagine him standing there, delivering the sermon. Tall and dark haired, with a mustache.

There was an old upright piano before me to the right and on it a large vase of purple irises. My Dad's favorite. I let my heart be taken back to a simpler time and place.
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Welzia and Isabell Correll Arrowood





Welzia was born February 28, 1860, in Yancey County, North Carolina. Born the son of Samuel Arrowood born about 1836, and Sarah Ellen Winters, born May of 1840, Carter County, Tennessee. Welzia was the firstborn son of six children.

On the 1880 census record of Harrell's Township, North Carolina, Isabell was living with her father David and her mother Nancy. Two houses down, in the home of James Garland, lived Welzia, working as a farm hand. One can only imagine how they met and fell in love. They were married that same year. Welzia was 19 and Isabell was 16.

Welzia worked in the Claire Mill as a dolfer and was also an ordained Methodist minister. From stories I have heard, he was a "circuit preacher" and would travel around when folks needed "preaching to".
For awhile, he and Isabell lived right by the mill. There is a water tower that stands just about where the house once stood, according to my Dad's descriptions. Gastonia has moved on and spread out and only the old store once attached to the mill remains.
Welzia and Isabell had a large family. Isabell was a no-nonsense sort of women, she took no "guff" off of anyone, according to my grandmother. She always wore an apron with big, deep pockets and carried things around with her most all the time. Grandma was intrigued by the woman, I could tell by her stories. She seemed almost to "know things" according to grandma.
Grandma thought it was because she had 'Indian Blood' in her..not sure about that as a fact.
Together they had twelve children, one of which was Lewis William Arrowood, my grandfather.
They lost one baby in infancy, Samuel, from choking on a peach pit. Then she lost Fielden three years after losing Welzia.

Welzia died at the age of 55 years from pnuemonia. He is buried alongside of Isabell in the Mt. Olivet Methodist Church cemetery in Gastonia. Early on, Mt. Olivet was known as Ebeneezer Methodist Church. The Gaston Gazette newspaper ran an article about area old churches and published a picture of the church with Welzia's stone in the foreground. My Dad was so excited about that article.
My Dad, Steve Arrowood, never had a chance to know his grandfather. Steve was born about 16 years after Welzia's death. Welzia was way too young to die.

Isabell was born to David and Nancy Harrington Correll. Her family and her were listed on the census of 1880 in Harrell's Township in Mitchell County, North Carolina. After Welzia's death she went to live with her daughter's family, Esther and George Long on the Modena Extension in Gastonia. Esther was a twin to my grandfather, Lewis William. Isabell fell while living there and broke her hip, she became partially bedridden and never really recovered. She developed pnuemonia and died. Isabell was 72 years, 8 months and 18 days old at the time of her death and she was buried alongside Welzia.
I cherish the memories of my own grandparents. I had all four until I was 18 years old. Makes me feel very lucky to have had them. Those memories are cherished.