Losing The Farm Is Not The End Of The World

"We had some old pots & pans and 14 raggedy-ass children.  We started walking north."

That's what one of my cousins told me that Granny said when they lost the farm near London, Kentucky.  Jesse Jones was a farmer and also a travelling music teacher.  I was told he had a set of tuning forks that he used, probably teaching the old "fa-mi-sol" style of singing.  I wonder what became of those tuning forks.  Elizabeth (Garland) Jones' lineage was later traced back to Pocahontas & John Rolfe.  Some day I'll get that family tree info posted.  That little girl down front & center is my Grandma Ruby (Price).  I think that boy next to her is Uncle Elmer Jones, who later hit the beach at Normandy and never would talk much about it.  Click on the picture and take a close look at the condition of the clothing, the shoes (or lack thereof), what the guys have in their bibbed overall pockets.  Pencils?  Cigars?  The dog's  name was Rex, and it appears that he drew a lot of people's attention.  This picture is cropped but the original shows a cat perching in the window.  The picture may have been taken by Jesse's brother, possibly named Henry, possibly from Minnesota.  This does not look like a camera-owning family.

So they lost the farm.  I don't know the circumstances but many of them ended up in the Greater Cincinnati (Harrison, etc.) area, got "good jobs" and raised families with people named Price and Hornsby and Bellissimo and such.  They lived in nice brick houses and were considered "working class" or maybe even "middle class" at times when layoffs were few.  What will happen if/when I lose my house?  I hope my kids drift to a better place, more fertile ground, more opportunities, nice people.  I know Derek is determined to live in Finland.  Dylan seems to go with the flow.  Time will tell.