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Sunbridge Cemetery
Also known as: City Cemetery, Saint Joseph City Cemetery
Saint Joseph, Buchanan County, Missouri, USA
My fifth great-grandfather was born in Virginia and died in Buchannan County, Missouri after a long and prosperous life. He was a pioneer who crashed with Daniel Boone in his youth.
Samuel Harris Vassar was the son of Abraham Vassar and his wife Rhoda. His birth place lay in the beautiful county of the Flat Creekwatershed of Amelia co. VA. He found his way to Kentucky. Later, after the death of his father in 1779, he learned he had been given 200 acres of the Flat Creek Plantation a a deed of gift that he see to the care of his mother and young sister Delilah after the father was dead.His elder sister Martha Catherine Deaton and her husband Levi lived onthe place until 1803. Levi Deaton had died in 1799 leaving Martha a widow.
On the return trip to Kentucky, Samuel and his mother and sister took refuge in Daniel Boone’s Fort. Later, in 1803, Rhoda Harris Vassar died in Clark Co, KY.
During the time he was in Kentucky, Samuel Harris Vassar acquired a200 acre farm on the south side of the Red River at its mouth and theKentucky river on its east bank. This spot had a workable salt desposit which he developed. In addition to the regular farm crops, hehad a water mill on Calloway Creek which ran along his southern line.
Samuel Harris Vassar met the daughter of Peter and Mary Ann Goossee, named for her mother and nicknamed “Polly”. Samuel was 38. However consent must be had from the father of the child to be married if the child was between the ages of 12 1/2 and 16. Thus, a bond was given as reguired: Clark Co KY; January 21, 1795; Samuel H Vassar to Polly Goossee, the father. Bondsman, Peter Goossee, JR. To this union were born 5 sons and 2 daughters.
In 1818, Simpson R, son of Samuel and Polly, went to Missouri territory as a fur trader for a St Louis based fur company. Upon returning to KY with his wife and new son, he told tales of the newland opening up. These stories led Samuel at the age of 61 to go to Howard Co, MO with his wife and 3 unmarried children. Another son, Samuel Jenkins, became an Indian Trader for the Chouteaus of St Louis. Elizabeth and Benjamin remained with their parents until their marriages in Clay co, MO.
About this time, in 1830, Mary “Polly” the mother died. She is buried near the north county line of Clay co in a graveyard with other Goosey family members. In 1835 Samuel married Cynthia (Simpson) Castile, the widow of Joseph Castile. Both Samuel and Cynthia were advanced in age. Samuel never returned to KY. He sold his holdings there by Power of Attorney. He and his son Benjamin operated a grist mill in Clinton Co, MO. At his death he held many notes. One of thesefor a few hundred dollars was on Joseph Robidoux, the founder of St Joseph MO. This note was never paid. He died 24 Oct 1846 and is buried in the NE corner of Sunbridge Cemetery in Buchanan Co, MO. A statementon file in the Buchanan Probate Papers records that he was “taken inhis 89th year”.
After the death of Samuel, Cynthia, his second wife, lived with a son by her first marriage. The 1850 census shows David Castile, age 36, born TN, to have a wife and 6 children and Cynthia Vassar living with this family. Castile Creek, which headed in the new county of DeKalb, MO and flowed through Clinton and Caly counties emptying eventually into a tributary of the Missouri River was named for Joseph Castile.
Samuel Harris VASSAR (1757 – 1846)
5th great-grandfather
Mary VESSOR (1801 – 1836)
daughter of Samuel Harris VASSAR
Margaret Mathews (1831 – 1867)
daughter of Mary VESSOR
Julia McConnell (1854 – 1879)
daughter of Margaret Mathews
Minnie M Smith (1872 – 1893)
daughter of Julia McConnell
Ernest Abner Morse (1890 – 1965)
son of Minnie M Smith
Richard Arden Morse (1920 – 2004)
son of Ernest Abner Morse
Pamela Morse
I am the daughter of Richard Arden Morse
The ship was grounded on the shoals
The Pilgrims had not yet achieved their goals
The crowd was hungry, tired, depressed and sick
There was no welcoming party with a magic trick
To heal the suffering and recover moral fortitude
All the tribe had to offer was comfort and food
With great trepidation they approached the invaders
Dressed in high hats and collars of religious crusaders
Contrary and contorted, the inquisitor retreated
To study the rules and regulations for details
To bribe the authorities to seek the maximum
Penalty for betraying the monarchy and the court
Treason and heresy had been found in high places
Now the entire population had to fear for the future
Chaos had consumed the wealth and the wisdom
Once widely respected in this now violent place
Leaving widows, orphans, haunted institutions
Of what was once called being on the right side of history
Busy Body takes a dim view of other fellow sculptures’ emotional needs
He fancies himself a special man among all the men who have ever been
His masquerade from day to day hides the truth he completely disregards
As just some kind of background noise from his own distant, fragile past
His foundation has eroded leaving his memory in a precarious position
He can go on pretending his shining honor has never been tarnished
But everyone knows his life was a series of misguided actions that killed him
Between the walls of the ruined buildings plants grew wild
Some metallic angels flew over the houses and smiled
Merry pranksters fell down laughing long after the joke
Any resentment or anger had long ago gone up in smoke
Vintage remnants of times that will not be remembered
Scatter over the narrow path like a fire burned down to embers
The coach pulls out at midnight to fly around the hills
The riders are invisible and the driver feels the chill
Of the howling wind as it whips through his bare bones
The stagecoach is a spirit vehicle with a will of its own
The destination is always kept secret until the horses stop
Then passengers are invited to the free store to shop
They rummage through the past, the deeds they left behind
The burden of past mistakes is magically lifted from the mind
They leave the area on foot with new paths to discover
Each one has witnessed transformation from which they will never recover
I love living in Arizona. I used to travel around the world all the time. In fact, I was a travel agent for years, living the good life on the gravy train of the travel industry. The market has changed significantly and the service on airlines is not as great as it was in the past. I used miles to upgrade my international flights to business class back in the day, but those seats are never available with miles now. The super gold elite platinum members suck those all down for themselves. I no longer fly or collect airline miles for the future. I am happy as a tourist in my own spectacular state. We have it all, including the Grand Canyon.
I recently downsized my possessions and bought a Mini Cooper to drive. The change brings money into my budget and a fun tiny car that meets my needs perfectly. I drove the car recently to Phoenix for the Cannabis Expo weekend. It is super easy to park and easy to drive. My wanderlust for the open road has been revived by my new wheels. When I first saw the car I did not like it because it is orange and black. I have come to adore the colors, and think it is a snazzy sporty look. I will drive it down to Tombstone and Bisbee tomorrow for a Halloween weekend visit. Bisbee is all about haunting and history. Tombstone is all about gunslinging, Doc and Wyatt.
The drive is an easy two hours, about the same as Phoenix, from home. I will stop in Tombstone on the way down then take a day trip to Douglas on Saturday. Douglas was once a very wealthy smelter town for the Bisbee copper mine. The Louis Comfort Tiffany Window in the Hotel Gadsden is a remnant of those high rolling times. It is worth the drive to Douglas to see that window. Tombstone, Bisbee, and Douglas grew up around mines. The history of the wild west is still celebrated, particularly around Halloween. It will be a fantastic retreat, as well as a bargain for the cost. I feel lucky to have so many excellent and varied destinations to discover by a short drive.
The Roman army built the arches, aqueducts, and city streets
Then conscripted the local constabulary, farmers and priests
They marched off to conquer and manage all humans and beasts
The emperor demanded tribute in service, and taxes paid in gold.
The able bodied were enslaved and abducted to serve the will of Rome
It is hard to say which one issue caused the empire to crumble and fall
Maybe that imperial power concentrated in one place was never real at all
The ruins of foundations laid down long ago are remnants from the past
Mighty political forces appear and disappear, never meant to last
This poem is in response to this week’s photo prompt on Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo. Join us each week to read, comment, or submit your own take on the photo. I think this poem is also inspired by today’s political climate.
Tom Petty had some final words for his audience in Los Angeles, California as he closed out the last concert of a world tour. “I wanna thank you for 40 years of a really great time,” he said. One week later the rock legend would be dead, after suffering cardiac arrest in the early morning…
via Watch the Final Moments of Tom Petty’s Last Ever Live Show — TIME
They looked down on the path with hollow eye sockets
Warning visitors to the woods that not all who enter leave
Some are murdered, skinned and eaten during dinner parties
Others are made into shoes or caps for theater troops
Life in this place must be a precarious race with survival
Assumptions made before entering will warp and strengthen
Turning everyone into either hunter or desperate prey
The shadows cast by the skulls grow long in the afternoon
The darkness grows deeper, the silence is discomforting
The sign is an omen of impending doom from which there is no escape
This gloomy little poem was inspired by Sue Vincent’s Echo. The photo prompt each Thursday is food for thought and for writing. Please join the group to read, comment, or submit your own version.