Home / Madness Behind The Method / Pruning The Living Crap Out Of My Family Tree ('Cuz There's A Nut On Every Freaking Branch)
They say “it’s the nuts that make a family tree worth shaking.” If that’s true, I have one of the most worthwhile bits of arboreal genealogy currently planted in the terra firma! However, mah-sweetie’s-and-my own personal reproductive practices have effectively tourniquetted this particular vein of our tribal bloodline (as I atone for a centuries-long arterial spray of hereditary overpopulation). The following online accounting (paired with a healthy dose of ancestral snarkiness) is pretty much the only fruit coming from these loins — so please enjoy my meager contributions to what I’ve affectionately dubbed “Da Tree.”
Spending time amid kith and kin, I’m fascinated to see which traits I must have inherited at birth, versus those that clearly rubbed off from later-life interactions. Said experience is both eye-opening and more-than-just-a-little-bit frightening — it’s also proof-positive that (despite my favorite childhood adoption fantasies) I am legitimately sprung from the Creel-Lacy-May-Mount womb. All I can say is, god help me!
The whole fam-damily shares a collective propensity for over-analysis, a strong sarcastic streak, a talent for finding bargains, and a tendency toward addictive behavior. Not a one of us can hold a tan to save our lives. We sport a strange sense of humor that outsiders never seem to get. We’re all pretty seriously directionally-impaired. And everyone except me sucks ginormous donkey phalli (I’m talking hard-enough-to-cause-penile-hematoma) when it comes to healthy domestic boundaries.
Seriously. The family motto should be, “Tough love? Was ist das?”
(Well, only if we had more German broth mixed into our congenital stock — brimming with Scots-Irish-whiskey as we are, I guess it should really be, “Tough love? Yer bum’s oot the windae. Up yer arse wi’ it!”)
I was also gifted (or in some cases cursed) with a trait from each of my closest relatives. Momma’s wrinkledy hands and daddy’s big ole flappy feet, Ricky’s fuck-you ‘tude, the interesting word usements Patsy structures, Linda’s control-freakiness — Lizzie Ruth’s flaming follicular pigmentation, Justin’s bipolar mood swings, and the Lacy-girl nose. (Thank you so very flipping much, Herrell and Odessa!)
In other ways I couldn’t be more different from these people, were I genetically-mutated from an alien cell sample in a petri dish. I’m agnostic-to-the-core and progressive-as-hell (bumping endless philosophical heads with the rest of them alt-right-red-state-southern-baptist-wingnuts), the only intentionally childfree one in the bunch, materially minimalistic (raised by hoardy-types), a full-time wanderluster surrounded by folks who act like travel causes spontaneous combustion. I’m figuratively-in-terms-of-paternity-but-literally-in-the-hair-color-and-sore-thumb-sense this group’s official red-headed stepchild — however considering both my personal proclivities and the brood into which I was hatched, I’m fine holding the title of Family Weirdo!
At least I come from a “colorful” history. (I believe that’s the polite euphemism for, “Damn girl, y’all screwed up!”) We’ve tracked down ten generations of clanspeeps. And to be sure, ye olde pedigree includes a few pilgrims, a politician or two, couple war heroes — but then again, that’s a tad less impressive when you see the heaping helping of drunks, deadbeats, and degenerates they stand alongside.
(Like my brother, pictured here in I believe it was 1974 — stoned-right-the-hell-out-of-his-gourd during our JC Penney portrait sitting. Nice anniversary gift for the parents, right?)
We’ve got weirdities in every direction. You’ll find inbreeding cousins, ties to a Declaration-signer and our country’s first president, a town-founder, sow attacks and death-by-pine-needle, murders and suicides, Dickensian abandonment-in-an-orphanage and a marriage that links my red-headed heiney directly to the cherokee nation. (Of course you’d never know from looking at me — apparently them irish genes decided to beat the ever loving shit out of anything native-american they caught trying to take a toehold!) Not to mention the fact that it’s a damned prolific lineage — one great-great-great-great grandfather impregnated two wives with 26 offspring. Holy crap!
And I don’t even want to know what kind of crack these people were smoking when they named their kids. An idiotic level of nomenclatural repetition (generation after generation calling their sproglodytes “Richard” or “William” or “Thomas” — as well as multiple sibs all bearing the same frigging moniker) might lead one to think that my antecedents had no imagination. But we’ve also got Narcissus and Trezbant, Warmly and Absalom, Sofrony and Izora — with a few Andrew Jacksons, Daniel Websters, and George Washingtons thrown in for good measure. (Thank goodness there are no Nathan Bedford Forrests — knowing these confederate-flag-waving fools, I wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised.)
I’m from the south. We don’t hide our dysfunction. We park its butt in a chair on the front porch, serve it a cocktail (possibly sweet tea if it’s currently on the wagon between rehab-tours-of-duty) — invite the whole crew over, then spend the better part of a Sunday afternoon reminiscing and blessing hearts.
My immediate tribe is a walking, talking Tennessee Williams play. Start with half our relatives not speaking to the rest at any given moment, add an unhealthy dose of beyond-the-grave grudge-holding, toss in a handful of delusion/denial, mix with a cup of resentment toward anyone who chooses to live or think a little differently than the norm — bake at 450 degrees inside a smoldering passive-aggression, then top with a fair sprinkling of flash-paper violence thrown in for excitement. Yummers!
Insanity doesn’t run in this family. It walks through very slowly and deliberately, developing deep personal relationships with each and every one of us. Our kind wears “hot mess” like a badge of honor — and boy howdy, do my forebears have a lot to be proud of! We’ve produced ancestors all across the spectrum, from slightly-left-of-center, to pathologically-embarrassing-in-public, to full-on-shithouse-rat status.
(And EVERYONE gets bumped up a notch when the sauce starts flowing!)
Just look at these photos I stole from my mother’s picture albums (hover over the thumbnail to view a full-size version of each) — some of them are totally deranged! Especially those old-timey ones, where even the babies have that “I-will-cut-you-and-then-drop-a-poo-bomb-in-my-huggies” glint in their eyes.
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So that’s my best attempt at a comprehensive derivation. But this “tombstones-and-census-polls” thing doesn’t exactly give me an intellectual boner (nor does it help that I have zero patience with the inaccuracies and disorganization that pepper most user-driven genealogy websites) — so those of you clantastic house members with more researchy inclinations, please let me know if I got anything wrong.
I’ve always been the black-sheep, the redheaded (literally) step child — and thus, my family relationships have always been topsy-turvy. Over the years, I’ve learned to hold my chosen tribe in higher regard than those thrust upon me through an accident of biology. I very much subscribe to the original wording of that old “blood is thicker than water” proverb (back when “blood of the covenant” was seen as more viscous than “water of the womb,” placing a far greater premium on those with whom you share values than dna) — but not-so-much post-word-twist (when communal-vag-squirtage became the end-all-be-all litmus test for loyalty).
Fortunately, this progenitorial nonsense has introduced me to a whole planetful of extended seconds and thirds and once-or-twice-removeds. Along the way, I’ve connected with a pile of broad-minded, socio-politically-awesome cohorts of an epithelial/erythrocytic nature — so proud to have claimed these crazy fuckers and now call them mine! One of our favorite things to do as mah-sweetie-and-I travel the globe is meet up with distant kinfolk — so if anyone wants a reunion, holler and we’ll party!
(And I’m sorry if my suggesting that your great-great-grand-uncle looked like he might go all “bad seed” on somebody’s ass upset you. But it’s true, you know — he looks like a tiny serial killer.
With that haircut. And those short pants.)
I got Creel blood (the hematological equivalent of demons) from my father’s paternal side running all through me — ALL through me! (Sorry, but when you visit RamonaLand, you’re gonna have to deal with me yanking obscure movie quotes out of my butt. Can’t help it. It’s hereditary. Blame Richard.)
Folks who sell genealogical paraphernalia in those twee little tourist shops tell me this fish-baskety moniker hails from a mutt-mix of bog-trotting-haggis-snorting-lime-sucking ancestors. And while my dna reading largely agrees, less-profit-driven historians have suggested that all Creels are actually descended from the wandering gallic sperm of one Robert De Criol.
(I wouldn’t be surprised. Plop a randy frenchman with a thick accent and a mouth full of camembert down amid a gaggle of gorgeous irishwomen — he’s bound to end up with a few misspelled redheaded offspring!)
Other questionable nomenclatural origins aside, this ancient norman honorific apparently also accompanied a pile of raping/pillaging northumberland marauders to the british isles when they got all conquesty in 1066.
And if my peeps are represented on a tapestry, you know they’re dead fucking center of the chaos — hair flaming, swords flying, causing a lotta trouble!
If you’re reading this, I assume you’re kinfolk (or just so flipping bored at work, any available interwebz rabbit hole looks like a viable escape hatch). But do you know what our name actually means? My fave response is the grossly-overused-but-never-not-hilarious “total lunatic.” Only slightly less awesome is being asked if I fly fish — seriously? If you’ve seen the damage I can do myself with a shampoo bottle, you know I should never be allowed to fling sharp pointy pieces of metal around in the air!
A less-popular-but-still-literal translation has me answering to Ramona Spinningbobbin, Ramona Turfcart, Ramona Oatrock, or Ramona Sheepslaughter (not likely — ‘cept that last one). I prefer more personality-apropos derivations, like Ramona Head-Over-Heels-Clumsy-With-Excitement (there’s a reason my momma didn’t name me “Grace”) and Ramona Temporary-Aberration (which really oughta be “Ramona Permanent Freakitude”). It also makes me snicker to know that our most common linguistic permutations are “cruel,” “curl,” and “girl” — it’s like the word itself was just waiting for me to burst into existence!
To be fair, we’ve never made carrying this name easy. Just ask mah sweetie — who “creeled” a container-o-rocks on his back until I ceremonially relieved him of said bachelorhood-burden during our wedding-of-the-century.
(Isn’t he just the best? Everybody should have someone love them enough to risk a hernia proving matrimonial devotion — and damn, but those Clan MacDuff highlanders know how to make the groom earn that sweet nuptial-night snatch!)
Plus, a super-cool crest! That charming helmet-minus-top-of-the-head-with-brains-floating-outside-its-skull marks my primogenitors as both cerebral and war-like — nothing about that has changed very much in the modern era (the Creel hive-mind fairly overfloweth with useless knowledge, and you DEFINITELY don’t want to piss us off). The colors are a lovely blend of irish green and scots yellow. And ye olde clan motto translates as “I linger not for blows” — I’m guessing a goodly smack to a predecessor’s cranium knocked something irreparably loose, and the rest of us decided not hang around waiting for whoever engaged in said clockage to finish the job. (We may not be the best compatriots to have next to you in battle!)
A not-so-famous historian once said, “The defining characteristic of all Creels is their seemingly never-ceasing movement.” Who knows what the hell we’re running from (besides the devil — that’s a no-brainer), but clearly I’m not the first in this bloodline with itchy feet. Give us a minute and we’ll spread like an orthographically-challenged virus! We’ve got crumpet-stuffer “Cryles” and “Creeles.” (Spelling didn’t settle down until my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather was born.) Our more shamrocky relations were first seen in County McCreeley (which in gaelic as “McRaghailaigh” has way too fucking many letters — thank god we weren’t welsh). We gots us a lovely little mexican settlement nestled near Copper Canyon, a township in North Dakota, a plural version in West Virginia — and we also call dibs on a scotch-whiskey-soaked fishing village near Dumfries. Break out the Laphroaig!
My folk are a glorious franken-mix of penny-pinching teuchters and drunken celts, with some dry brit humor and froggy ‘tude thrown in for good measure — the best of all stereotypes, blended into one! (And a valid genetic excuse having my interests scattered all over the freaking board!)
– baptised at Spofforth All Saints in Yorkshire
– parents were unknown
– married at St Sepulchre in Holborn, London
– was a planter — purchased 60 acres of land in VA on September 21, 1693
– parents were unknown
– parents were Benjamin Harrison III and Elizabeth Burwell
– on 1778 American Revolution muster roll for 8th Virginia Regimental Command
– on 1777 American Revolution muster roll for 12th Virginia Regimental Command
– parents were Thomas Dodson and Mary Durham
– son’s wife Mary Ball was 5th cousin of George Washington’s mother
– parents were unknown
– first pastor of the Birch Creek Mill Baptist Church in Pittsylvania County
– a “most amiable man universally loved by all descriptions of people”
– accidentally killed by a falling log while helping in the raising of a house
– his church is still around, the oldest in continuous operation in the area
– parents were Rev. Thomas Jesse Dodson II and Elizabeth Good Rose
– served as a Private in the 1st Virginia State Regiment during the Revolutionary War
– 1814 served as Captain of a Tennessee militia company in the War of 1812
– parents were Joshua Dodson and Ruth Rose
– parents were Matthew Belcher and Alcey
– in 1850, was “visiting her people” when she tired of riding in the wagon
– while walking behind, slipped on pine needles
– fell, broke her hip, and was never able to walk again
– served as a Private in the CSA 27th Regiment, Georgia Infantry, Company E
– married her cousin George Creel
– married his first cousin Ann Hughes
– served in the CSA 20th regiment, Mississippi Infantry
– married his first cousin Elizabeth Creel
– served in the CSA 20th regiment, Alabama infantry
– served in the CSA Camp Of Instruction in Talladega, AL
– Matthew Morgan and Alcey were fraternal twins
– served in the CSA Camp Of Instruction in Talladega — died in service
– parents were William Belcher and unknown
– served in Clayton County’s “Estes Guards” — wounded in the Battle Of Atlanta
– served in the Army Of N. Virginia 44th Regiment, Georgia Infantry, Company D
– enlisted on March 4, 1862 and was elected 2nd Lieutenant on July 2, 1862
– wounded at Sharpsburg on September 17, 1862 and died
– served in CSA, unit unknown — died in service
– served in the CSA, unit unknown
– too young to serve in the CSA
– was recruited to burn Atlanta before Sherman could get there to plunder it
– captured by Union troops then later released
– went on to Washington D.C. as secretary to Joe Starnes
– J.A. and Joseph were identical twins
– J.A. was killed by an old sow and Joseph got a scar on his upper lip
– always wore a mustache to cover it
– parents were unknown
– parents were unknown
– died of typhoid fever
– parents were William Chappell and Mary McCullum
– only one picture ever taken of Martha, shot while she was sick and bed-ridden
– family carried her out to the yard in a rocking chair for the photo
– broke a window and was afraid he would get in trouble, so he went west
– was gone for several years without communicating with anyone in the family
– on his way home when he got sick and died of typhoid fever
– wife Minnie put his 6 children in an orphanage — Baby Felix Jr. died there in 1921
– she later took the boys (James Earl, Richmond, and Wheeler) back with her
– it’s said she did it so they could work in the fields for her
– left the girls (Izora and Lillie Laura) at the orphanage
– was a farmer and owned 4 farms in the Boaz area
– he and Bonnie also owned and operated the Creel Mercantile Store
– he served 4 terms as mayor of Boaz
– parents were Samuel Hazel and Nora Crump
– Justin committed suicide and his 12-year-old son found the body
I was delivered from down off the Mount on my father’s maternal side, just like a pair of stone-flipping tablets — albeit much less biblically and minus the 40 days/nights in a cloud, false-idol worship, or massacre of 3,000 levites. (I’m irreligious ‘cuz I don’t believe the stories, not ‘cuz I don’t know them!)
Our toponymic surname arises from the old-english munt and old-french mont — again with the norman-conquesty stuff. The thing is, none of the Mounts I know are especially equestrian. And I’m unaware of any strange erotic predilections or requiring-of-assistive-device sexual dysfunctions that would have led to such nomenclature. So before you state the obvious — yes, this branch of my tribal tree is named after a gigantic clump of dirt.
What can I say — you take the low road, I’ll take the high road, and I’ll get to Haggistani way-the-freak afore ye. (And that means more Laphroig for me!)
My posse proudly represents a land filled with beautiful countrysides, homey pubs, kick-ass tv, and impenetrable accents — these fools are the reason I possess a fondness for bagpipe music, Eccleston-forward Doctor Who, beans-on-toast-with-fried-tomato-but-sans-the-black-pudding, Eurythmics, curling, oatcakes, distinguished-Red-October-rather-than-greasy-stand-too-close-and-catch-a-social-disease-007-era Sean Connery, and canned vegetarian haggis.
(Made with lentils. No really, it’s pretty tasty — I serve it with neeps, tatties, and mustard-whiskey sauce.)
Our motto “pruder et constanter” means “pride and constant” — which is quite possibly the strangest combination of a noun and an adjective the western world has ever seen. I could get on board with “constant pride,” or “proud constancy.” But even once you straighten out the abysmally-fucked-up grammar, it’s still weird. (Especially when you remember that said slogan was meant to be a frigging war cry!) I know we kilty-types don’t actually speak the queen’s english. But you’d think that (linguistically clever as we think we are, and considering how much we enjoy the fine art of verbal masturbation), my clan could’ve come up with something a bit more threatening — and a tad less illiterate.
Must be some bizarre mathematical analogy, designed to confuse and confound our enemies.
Yeah. I’m sure that’s it.
The greatest hereditary gift given me by the tartan crew is my fiery crimson hair. (Only 2% of the world’s population is redheaded — that makes us the genetic equivalent of unicorns. And yes, we do poop rainbow ice cream.)
Everything about the ginger existence is superior to what you “normal” people experience. Our urine was thought poisonous, our blood believed capable of converting copper into gold. We were burned as witches and staked as vampires in the old country — which you have to admit is sexy as hell.
We claim the most sardonic writer (Mark Twain). The hottest cartoon character (Jessica Rabbit). The most committed martyrs (Joan d’Arc and Galileo). The most tortured artists (a tie between VanGogh and Sylvia Plath). The most musically-inspirational would-be-assassin (Squeaky Fromme). The best disney princess. The coolest wizards. The most interesting prince. The funniest comedians. We have Pippi Longstocking, Judas Iscariot, and Chuck NORRIS, for fuck’s sake! We’re so awesome, there are even people out there that become obsessed with us, overtaken by a redhead fetish — the condition is called rutiluphilia.
No contest. We win.
Another thing I inherited from them damned caber-tossers was a terrible memory. Seriously — I have to meet someone 27 times before I can recall their name, and even then it’s hit-or-miss. (I once blanked while introducing friends I’d known for more than a decade!) But the folks in plaid have a word for the brain-fart that causes such embarrassment. “Tartle” — the awkward moment that occurs as you rummage around in the recesses of your mind, searching for some clue about who the hell that other person is.
My favorite thistle-arsed cousins have extended the concept of “thrift” into their language — with some wonderfully concise scottishisms that each sum up a complex concept in a single word. “Nashgab” is talking trash about someone behind their back. “Turadh” indicates a break in the clouds between showers. “Camhanaich” describes early-morning twiglight. “Beflum” means to deceive through insincere flattery. “Faodail” is a lucky find. “Splang” represents the sparkling light that you see on the surface of choppy water. “Fouter” means a fiddly, tiresome job of work — simultaneously mind-numbing and detailed. “Wheesht” is what you holler at children when you want them to shut the hell up. “Chebs” is a woman baring her breasts. “Skelp” describes smacking someone upside the head for being dumb or annoying. And “bonailie” is that last parting drink before you head out the door at the end of a party. Perfecto!
Brevity — a skill I much appreciate, even if I have no intention of ever practicing it myself.
(And don’t ask me to pronounce any of that mess, either!)
– lived in the village of Boughton Aluph
– were married October 16, 1587 in Godmersham, England
– parents were unknown
– baptized in the nonconformist parish Boughton Aluph in Kent
– believed to have arrived at Salem, MA in 1650
– joined a Baptist Colony in RI, rather than be branded a nonbeliever by the puritans
– purchased land from natives at the end of the English-Dutch War in 1664
– among the original founders of Middletown, NJ and town overseer
– awarded home lot #10 and outlot #18 in December 1667
– deputy to the first General Assembly, held at Portland Point in 1668 and 1669
– was a journeyman blacksmith, a valuable occupation to the colony
– a “constituent member” of the Middletown Baptist Church, the first in NJ
– purchased joint tracts of land in West Jersey at Cohancey with his father-in-law
– parents were Benjamin Borden and No-Name Morgett
– received 185 acres of land from his father on April 13, 1698
– it’s believed that this gift cut him off as an heir-at-law
– moved to Cranbury, NJ in 1711 after an argument with the Elders of the Baptist Church
– was a practicing Presbyterian from that day forward
– parents were Walter Wall and Annetje Rachel Cox
– father emigrated from Baverstock in Wiltshire, England around 1635
– mother followed some time before 1648
– was a Constable for Piscataqua, NJ
– served as a defendant and plaintiff in law suits in 1715, 1716, and 1718
– listed as a Private in the American Revolution muster rolls
– parents were unknown
– parents were unknown
– parents were unknown
– parents were unknown
– served in New Jersey during the Revolutionary War
– fought in the War of 1812
– listed as a “lucky drawer” in the 1827 Georgia land lottery
– listed in muster rolls of the North Carolina militia
– served in the Commonwealth Of Massachusetts during the Revolutionary War
– parents were unknown
– parents were Nehemiah King and Ann Director Williams
– served as a Private in Company C of the CSA 46th Alabama Infantry
– parents were unknown
– double headstone epitaph “Faithful to their trust even unto death.”
– granddaughter Grace Beatrice and husband died in car accident
– was riding with Selma-To-Montgomery march protestor
– parents were unknown
– parents were unknown
– great-grandson Robert Eric held prisoner in a WWII German hospital
– killed by a Central Of Georgia railway train
– parents were William M. Milton and Laucretia Weathersby
– stabbed in the heart and killed by Jess Conners
– murdered in Rich Gilchrist’s store in downtown Brantley
– Conners thought Clements reported him for illegally making whiskey
– parents were unknown
– husband James Watson (b. June 14, 1901 / d. July 6, 1979)
– son James Lamar (b. November 24, 1922)
– son Lloyd Truman (b. December 12, 1924)
– wife Ruth Pendleton (b. October 7, 1907 / d. March 13, 2006)
– daughter Martzelle (b. 1923)
– wife Etrula Noel (b. March 27, 1913 / d. June 6, 2003)
– daughter Barbara Jean (b. November 28, 1935)
– son Clyde “Sonny” Jr. (b. October 24, 1939 / d. January 1, 2009)
– was a debutante
– sweetheart of Sigma Alpha Epsilon while attending Sneed Seminary
– husband George Drake (b. Feb 10, 1910 / d. Jul 1, 1986)
– son Harry Lamar Drake (b. / d. unknown)
– parents were unknown
– husband Robert C. Hammock (b. 1927 / d. November 10, 1977 in FL)
I’m descended from the Laceys on my mother’s paternal side. Momma-n-em always spelled it “Lacy” — but apparently somewhere before my grandfather became a reality, the powers that be changed our familial orthography. (Hopefully because of clerical error, rather than a distant relation’s illiteracy.)
Ye olde moniker originally referred to a town called Lassy on the froggy-not-foggy (see what I did?) side of the channel. I can’t even tell you how much I love the romans for naming this spot after the word “lascius.” (Latin for “lascivious, playful, unbridled, insolent” — these people knew me before I was even born!)
In 1170, our nonmenclature traveled with the anglo-norman “strongbownians” as they invaded the land of taters and guinness. Some claim “Strongbow” De Clare’s sexy sobriquet came via some serious wartime-arrow-flinging abilities — but keep in mind that his eponymous cider’s sibling beverage is named “woodpecker.” Sounds like mad bedroom-dagger skillz to me. (Just sayin’.)
And so the l-word came to represent a small chunk of the emerald isle overtaken by my bumpy-schnozzed tribe. (I can recognize a distant cousin from a mile-and-a-half away by her distinctive profile — that “Lacy-hump” every female relative sports on her face is EXACTLY what happens when you fuck an aquiline nose up with leprechaun genetics.)
And it ain’t just along nasal passages that these two cultures play badly together — translate the old-irish pronunciation of “from Lassy” into old-french and you get “De Leis,” which literally reads as “the buttock.”
(No wonder we like to drink and kill people.)
And since the discussion has turned toward body parts, here’s a random weird-ass bit of trivia (apropos of absolutely NOTHING) that I discovered while falling down one especially interesting/disturbing genealogical-research-rabbit-hole. Did you know that if you want to grossly insult a frenchman, you should call him a “clouf-booter”? Apparently in doing so, you’re suggesting that he’s the type of guy who would steal the fasteners off a lady’s clothes and hide them under his foreskin (like you do) — then after a couple weeks of not washing, leap out of the bushes to fling smegma-buttons at passing women.
So many questions! First off, “clouf-booten” is german for “cloud boot” — did the whole thing spring from some ancient franco-prussian feud? If so, you’d think that handing their country over to the nazis after like 30 seconds of resistance would have made up for any earlier hygieno-sexual offenses in La République. Second, how much flipping planning goes into an enterprise like this? If you’re putting that much thought into your assault activities and not actually collecting skulls in the process, you’re wasting a tremendous stalking talent. I’m also just super-impressed with the level of creativity. This is flat-out the strangest-most-inexplicable-requiring-of-patience-and-lacking-in-genital-sanitation way I could possibly envision one human being harassing another — and I’ve got a pretty colorful imagination, so that’s saying a lot!
(I love a good educational diversion, ‘specially one with an off-da-charts “what the fuck??” factor like that. You are welcome.)
Anyway, back to the normans and their invasion. The resulting forced-ethnic-meld created a rather zesty breed of francia-occidentalis-aristocrat-cum-drunken-celtic-warrior that has served my folk well for centuries.
“Determined tenacity” (otherwise known as “stubborn-bull-headedness”) is one of my defining characteristics. If I want it, I bleeding well make it happen — and if I want it BAD, I have a glass in hand while marching forth. Turns out I get that honestly from my alcoholically-assertive ancestors!
Our gallic-gaelic peeps found themselves partial to County Limerick and County Meath (prolly because their leaders granted the Lacys lands — ain’t nobody in my family EVER gonna turn down free shit). However, we also have legitimate domestic dibs on another part of shamrockville, thanks to a native “O Laithsea” clan from County Wexford. (I am non-nonplussed to find the celtic genus of this particular tree-branch spelled “O Flaithgheasa.” Seriously — what is wrong with these bog-trotting bastards that they need so damned many letters??) Either way, said derivation means “regal bearing.” You may kneel.
Lacys have stayed pretty busy over the years. We helped impose the magna carta on King John. Trim Castle (the largest norman construction in Ireland) was ours — until we got our trouble-making arses banished to Scotland. Like all micks, we’ve taken a lot of crap from english eejits. Makes me wonder why I’m such a frigging anglophile now. (Seems I just can’t resist those dash cunning brits — with their questionable cuisine, milky tea, dry humor, and outstanding televisual entertainment. Damn them.)
But we don’t do well sitting still anyway, so the “Flight Of The Wild Geese” was a great excuse for spreading our seed across europe. And when the potato famine hit, passenger manifests were clogged with Lacys — they got-the-hell-out-of-dodge to form titular towns in Washington, South Dakota, Texas, New Jersey, Missouri, and god-knows-where-else.
The motto on our crest translates as “honors enhanced by desserts” — which I read as “dinner’s better if you eat the sweet stuff first.” We’re a people who appreciate both sugary treats and being rewarded for our efforts. (It’s true that I can stay happy all day with a smidge of praise and a whole lotta chocolate!)
– conflicting accounts of US birth and immigration through the Port Of Mobile
– parents were unknown
– parents were Lewis Franklin Cureton and Josephine McQueen
– served with the United States military in the Philippine Insurrection
– parents were unknown
– parents were William Franklin Alley and unknown
– father served as a private in the CSA 43rd regiment, Alabama Infantry
– son Robert was captured by the Japanese during WWII
– after he was liberated, he came home a bit “changed”
– when he caught a fish, he would snatch it off the hook and eat it whole
– did not know any foreign languages, but could sing operas in perfect Italian
– parents were William L. Phillips and Susan Duckworth
– was aboard the USS California at Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1942
I’m a May (my clan dropped the “e” really early in our history) on my mother’s maternal side. Those who poke around mormon research libraries tell me that the name dates back to an early saxon-norman-irish emigration. Yes friends, it’s true — I’m 100% mutt. (I am also Jack’s complete lack of surprise.)
Turns out, I could’ve picked said moniker up anywhere from L’Hexagone to the land of the Angles to Éire. (Just call me Limey McFroggerton!)
I almost don’t know what to do with a pedigree that’s one part gallic, two parts british isles. I mean how the fuck do you even BEGIN to reconcile the subtle gastronomic delights of coquilles saint-jacques, confit de canard, navarin d’agneau, soupe de poisson à la rouille — with folks who eat taters at every meal, think of pork blood as a breakfast food, and drink warm lager? Sigh.
May is an ancient appellation, sprung forth from the latin word “maius” — generally bestowed upon an individual with some tangible connection to the third month on the roman calendar (back when their year started in March). Annual festivities included sacrifice of a pregnant sow to the god of fire, prostitutes dancing naked and fighting in mock gladiator combat, drinking parties, foot-washing, sounding of the war trumpets, suffocation by erotically charged flowers, and exorcising malevolent spirits of the dead.
(All-over-the-board-with-a-healthy-dose-of-boozy-violent-pervy-creepy-shit — my kind of peeps!)
And here’s an odd aside (something at which I excel). How do you think romans numbered the days of their months? Sequentially from first to last, or maybe something solar/lunar — like everybody else on the planet? Nope. Their temporal reckoning involved counting backward from three illogically-fixed points, around which all observances and holidays were organized — calends (first of the next month), nones (six days post-calends in May/Oct/Jul/Mar but four days after in other months), and ides (eight days later).
To figure the current date, you determined when calends (first of the next month) would fall, then tallied the number of days left in the current month plus two — so April 22 is the “tenth of the calends of May,” ‘cuz ya gots eight days left in April. What the hell?? Why would you employ such a ridiculous-convoluted-and-you-seriously-expect-me-to-do-calculus-every-time-I-want-to-know-the-damned-date system?
(I’m sure this methodology made more sense when it was tied to actual moon-phases, but the whole thing lost all meaning once celestial-orb-shiftage was tossed out in favor of a fixed calendar. Giant coaching object lesson — shit changes, and what served you well in the past may NOT be all that useful today!)
I digress. Let’s move from toga-wearing hedonists to my progenitors’ arrival in england with the Conquest of 1066 (still checking tapestries for a familiar-looking she-warrior with a head full of fire) — and see how that ties to the possible seasonality of our epithet.
It’s possible that one of my forebears was born or baptized/converted in a flowery part of spring. (god help me if it’s the latter!) In the U.K., a temporally-specific eponym might also be festival-driven. (Can’t you just see me wearing a ruffledy bonnet with holes cut in the top for my poofs — skipping be-ribboned, multiply-pierced, and tattooed around a pole in the middle of a frigging cow-pasture?)
Or it could have been when our feudal obligations were due. (I’d love nothing more than to be named for tax season, but one of my earliest kin was Lord Of The Manor Of Faunt in Sussex — so I’m pretty sure we were the ones milking every penny from those pesky peasants.)
Or some goody-goody ancestor was given a pollyanna-meets-sunnybrook-farm sobriquet that got passed down through the ages — okay by me, so long as I can be snarkily anglo-optimistic (saying everything is “harbor light” or telling folks “keep your pecker up”) while repping our lineage.
Then there’s also the old-french derivation “mai,” meaning “better” (which I love, ‘cuz we are). But regardless of from whence we come nomenclaturally, we didn’t stay in one place long — no wonder I love travel so much. Many Mays fled County Carlow in the late 18th century, buying steamship tickets for the promised land when famine hit — they then spread out to a cape in New Jersey, a village on the Isle Of Man, townships in Minnesota and Queensland, and bumpkinvilles in Indiana and Oklahoma.
The family motto translates as “strong and faithful,” which I interpret to mean “’til the final body falls at the bitter frigging end.” (No surprise to anyone who’s seen my stubborn streak in action.) Yet the colors on ye olde crest provide an odd mix of symbolism — silver for security, red denoting a dealer’s choice of military fortitude or magnanimity or martyrdom, and gold signifying generosity-cum-intellectual-elevation. No wonder I have such schizoid interests and bipolar mood swings, with that mixture in my bloodstream!
Top it all off with a “leopard’s head proper,” indicating agility and strength — we’re good to have around when the feces hits the proverbial oscillating cooling device. (I fight with the fury of a caged wombat. At least during kickboxing class and tabletop-role-playing.) It also suggests stealthy movement through shadow worlds, so watch your back all the way into the afterlife if you get on the wrong side of my tribe!
– served in the Crocheron Light Dragoons militia
– served in the Revolutionary War as part of several Virginia companies/regiments
– fought during the siege of Yorktown
– parents were unknown
– parents unknown
– was a Methodist minister
– in 1823, was granted permission to live as part of the Cherokee Nation
– his wife was a full-blooded Cherokee
– was a farmer and Methodist minister
– donated the land for the 30′ x 60′ M.E. Church South in Sandusky
– was a Corporal in the 28th Alabama Confederate Infantry, Company D
– epitaph “I have fought a good fight. I have finished my course. I have kept the faith.”
– parents were John Jackson Echols and Sarah “Sally” Regan
– home at 1020 Ozark Court was restored and donated to Tannehill
– received his diploma and practiced medicine in Sandusky
– also served as a Methodist minister
– parents were Alfred Walter Berry and Nancy Catherine Crowley
– wife Bertha Mae Simmons (b. 1910 in AL / d. unknown)
– son Ernest John D. (b. March 6, 1929 in AL)
– husband Arthur Vernon Cash (b. August 15, 1918 / d. November 12, 1955 in AL)
– son Arthur “Pokie” Vernon Jr. (b. July 18, 1950 in AL)
– son Walter Lee (b. August 28, 1955 / d. December 13, 1955 in AL)
– Herrell died in a house fire after passing out drunk with a lit cigarette in his hand
– husband Myles Revels Dease (b. December 18, 1921 / d. January 12, 2006 in TX)
– husband Horace Gates Miller (b. July 11, 1924 in MS / d. October 20, 2014 in AL)
– parents were Horace Miller and Rena Ivy– daughter Margaret Ann (b. August 22, 1954 in Jefferson Co, AL)
– husband Ellie Glenn Willoughby (b. July 25, 1948 in AL)– son Norman Ivy (b. December 28, 1957 in Jefferson Co, AL)
– wife Lisa Jo Blackwell (b. August 12, 1958 in AL)
– Pearl and Earl were fraternal twins
– it was said in the family that “Earl had the P knocked out of him”
– came back from military service shell-shocked
– was beaten to death outside a bar
– husband James Rowland Mitchell (b.May 20, 1933 / d. June 15, 2001 in AL)
– was a US Army Corporal in the Korean War– son James Edward (b. August 15, 1954 / d. June 12, 2012 in Jefferson Co, AL)
– son Jerry Linn (b. August 24, 1956 in Jefferson Co, AL)
– daughter Donna Louise (b. December 26, 1960 in Jefferson Co, AL)
– husband Robert Earl Anderson (b. July 21, 1937 / d. March 14, 2006 in AL)
– son Robert Earl Jr. (b. November 15, 1953 / d. December 29, 2007 in Jefferson Co, AL)
– handful of his ashes are scattered in the Crimson Tide end zone– son Carl Christian (b. September 30, 1955 in Jefferson Co, AL)
– son John Edward (b. February 11, 1957 in Jefferson Co, AL)
– daughter Melinda Kathleen (b. November 22, 1958 in Jefferson Co, AL)– son Gerald Thomas (b. September 19, 1960 / d. July 10, 2012 in Jefferson Co, AL)
– struck by a car and knocked a few feet off the road into a ditch
– discovered 11 days later less than 1/4 mile from home
– first husband Jack Bremen Gilbert (b. July 2, 1943 in AL)
– son Russell Warren (b. February 29, 1972 in AL)
– son Kenneth Wayne (b. July 23, 1973 in AL)
– second husband Jack Martin Hutto (b. December 17, 1955 in AL)
– step-daughter Susy (b. January 7, 1980 in AL)
– ex-husband Verland Duncan (b. November 13, 1956 in AL)
– Patsy shot him in the ass through a closed door, but he lived
– son Andrew Jacob (b. August 7, 1976 in AL)
– goes by the nickname “Red Dog” (but if you want to really piss him off, call him Ricky-Richard-Herrell-Justin-Meanie-Dong-Dong-Cuckoo-Popsicle Creel)
– unknown number of unintentional progeny scattered across the south
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thomas creel son william had a son william b creel
can’t seem to find him
Actually, my cousin only provided me with details about the line leading to Walter William Creel (my great grandfather). I apologize that this isn’t a complete “everybody-in-the-Creel-family” genealogy, but I didn’t do the research myself — and I guess my cousin was only interested in direct ancestors.
Under Walter William Creel…. Sandra Louise Creel Maybee passed away 9/1/09 and her husband George William Maybee was born July 17 nto August 17… hope that helps… Also my grandmother Majorie Ruth Moss Creel passed away as well…
Georgina, thanks for the updates — I’ve corrected my listing. I’m so sorry to hear about your grandmother — do you have a date of death for her?
I saw Calvin and Jean Creel here. They would be my great uncle and aunt. This is some of what I know. I know Calvin had a brother named Roland (my grandfateher) married to Mary Sims. They had 3 sons and 2 daughters. Jerald, Wayne, Lynn, Margaret, and Joan. Wayne is my Father and I have one brother Brian (deceased). Jerald had a daughter Belinda and twin boys Brandon and Crandon. Lynn had a son Shannon and a daughter Shasta. Joan has 2 daughters Carla and Regina. Contact me if you have any questions. Thanks Mark
Son of Luther Edward Creel Jr born Albertville,Alabama 1912
Nice to see all this info. I now live in Knoxville Tn. My daughter Grace michell Creel is here and has married Lamont Elliott w/ 3 kids
hey there, Im from australia and would liek to say thanks for some of that info !
brendesigns@yahoo.com.au
You are very welcome!
Looking for any info on the Matthew Morgan Creel line. I know he married Nancy Hughes had son John Manley but do not know of other children. John
Manley was Father to Lloyd Matthew Creel, my Grandfather. Thanks for any help. cleveland.sonya@yahoo.com
I wish I could figure out who my great aunts and uncles and all are..
Father cody eufaula, alabama left when I was 6 and returned when I was 35 loved the guinness.I would love to know family.
This is very emotional for me, because I seem to have discovered more relatives in the US. You may have noticed or gathered that I’m French. My mother’s name is Jolle Creel, her dad, whom we deeply mourn because he died last Thursday at the age of 88, was Roland Henchey Creel born in France. His dad was Avery Nelson Creel born in Gum Pond, Decatur, Alabama. His parents were Joseph Henchie Creel and Sarah Elizabeth Andrews, Morgan Co, Alabama. A cousin of mine, Eugene Scruggs who used to be a lecturer in Tampa, Florida, tried and designed the family tree and went back to the one who seemed to be our common ancestor, John Creele, from Northumberland CO, Virginia. Let me leave my email address as i would very much like to hear from you, Ramona. I forgot, I was born on March 10th, 1972! Thank you very much for all you posted on your blog.
Galle
Galle,
Avery Nelson Creel was baby brother of my Great Grandfater George Sanford Creel. I just started doing my family tree and was trying to complete the families of Joseph Hencie Creel and Sarah Andrews Creel. I would very much like to communicate with you about your family. I know this post is almost 6 years old but I do hope you see it and will respond.
William Hooper
Hum, email: ordeiggaelle@yahoo.fr, all the best, cheers
A French Creel from my family tree — bonjour! Can’t wait to hunt you up the next time we’re in Europe!
I have been trying to get my tree together,I have traced it to William Creel 1700-1757….do you have any info that could help me? heres my Creel linage so far:
ROBERT PRESTON CREEL 1949
ALVIN CLIFTON CREEL 1922
ALVIN PRESTON CREEL 1889
HENRY LEVI CREEL 1858
JOHN CREEL 1826 OR 27
LEVI CREEL 1806
WILLIAM W. CREEL 1780
THOMAS L. CREEL 1750
WILLIAM CREEL 1700
if you stumble on anymore Creel info that may pertain to me anything will help,would also love some photos…my email is elireecreel@yahoo.com
hi, my moms maiden name is creel. my grandfather is vaughn creel. my aunt melody does alot of research on the family. shes made a couple scrapbook cd’s. with family stories told by family members shes interviewed, and pictures as far back as the 1800’s. she or another family member might have that book by j. owens. i will try to find out and get back to everyone. i did read somewhere that the first creel in america, i think, was around 1623 and he was a ship capitain, i think. it was a few years ago that i read about it. ramona, if anyone wants a copy of the scrapbook cd’s. you can give them my email.
Hi I know this post is years old but I believe you are talking about my grandmother melody. I have just started really researching family tree wise and I came across this. I was actually using some of Melody’s info to look up names. It would be great to hear from family I have never knew about.
Yay! I’m glad you found someone you’re attached to!
Stumbled on your family relation to the Creels. My oldest is Charles, Rev. War soldier in the 8th Virginia Reg. Born in 1756-58. I haven’t been able to find any written record of his father but after about 30 years of researching county archive, Library records in several states as well as trips to the LDS facilities in Salt Lake I’m fairly sure i know who he was. I also have a copy of the family crest but its’ very different from yours. Probably every vendor that sells genealogy stuff has several versions that seem to make sense. Charles was my 4th great grand father, married to a Stapp lady and they had seven children, all male. I descended from his first son. My line of Creel migrated from Virginia to Kentucky where they left quite a foot print in Kentucky history. Then on to Missouri, briefly, then to Texas in 1890. If you would like me to look up something in Owen’s book let me know. It’s 908 pages.
my best friend helped me to look up my family name and see what’s running around in my family tree. he came accross this site. I have family in north carolina and virginia. my great grandfather’s mother’s name is molly baskerville although i’m not sure if i’m spelling her last name right. i’m hoping to find out more. i’m not sure of her maiden name though or her date of birth. if you have any info please let me know. my email is
Brothers: Mark Bradford Lacey, Jeffery Mitchell Lacey, Christopher Selden Lacey, Sean Seabury Lacey.
Father: Bradford Seabury Lacey
Grandfather: John Torrance Lacey
Keep in touch.
Thanks so much for the additional info!
This is great stuff. I will look closer at it when I have more time. I think my wife’s Creel lineage is in here somewhere, through Hampton Creel’s son Joseph J. ( Although, I have him as James J. )
Hello,my name is William Jeffrey Creel,I am from Cincinnati,Ohio.My fathers name is William Newton Creel and his fathers name is Albert Douglas Creel. Grandpa A.D. always told me that the nuts dont fall far from the tree and that his family was from Warrior,Alabama.If you look on an Alabama map theres a little town called Creeltown very near Warrior. Thanks to all the other Creels for sharing your past and thank you Ramona for posting. Wm.J.Creel
Ramona…this is some interesting stuff about us Creels. My brother is William Jeffrey, who wrote to you on 12/4. What he left out about Albert Douglas is that their little part of the Creels left Alabama and moved to Kentucky, but don’t know when. I’m horrible on remembering comments by the ‘elders’ but seem to remember grandfather or his father being twins. No matter, since our grandparents are gone as well as Dad (William Newton), I’m forwarding this info to our uncle Ronald Joseph Creel and perhaps he can fill in the blanks. Thanks for your interest in the Creels…we always knew we were a wild bunch!
I lived in Creeltown, Alabama from 1936 to 1949. I have written a novel about Creeltown that is mentioned above and I remember an Albert Creel living in the small town. Contact me via my facebook page.
looking for dana patricia creel she would be around in her mid 70;s right now. she had a daughter at 19 and she was adopted in Alabama.
What part of Alabama?
Albert Creel was my Great Uncle. I lived in Creeltown until 1962
Very cool! Glad to connect with you!
I am Ramona’s cousin who provided her with the Creel information. The information I had aboutthe early generations came from the two volume set “Anywhere I Wander I Find Facts and Legends Relating to the Creel Family” Compiled and Edited by J. Adolphus Owens 1975 Diversivied Endeavors, Underground Press Section. Copies are in Salt Lake City, Washington, DC, Birmingham AL and probably other libraries. Other copies are in the hands of family members.
I have a copy of Any Where I wander, I find a Creel.
Adolphus made a few mistakes and left out many Creels.
I am a descendant of a Charles Creel ( married to Rachel)both from Virginia. They moved to Tennessee had a son named Nathaniel who married Mary Elvira Flowers ( daughter of Wiley Flowers and Margaret Finley Crockett- only daughter from David Crockett and his first wife Mary Polly Finley.
Nathaniel Creel named one of his daughters Rachel – who moved to Missouri and married John Connell. Who had been in Gibson County Tennessee with the Creel family.
Rachel my g.g.mother, she died in Pemiscott Co. Mo.
I actually managed to check that one out of the library — fascinating reading!
I am looking for info on Mary Patricia Creel born 1924 in New Orleans.
would like to know link Margach Scotland and May
I’m a decedent of the Creels that went to KY and then eventually CO. This is a really interesting website. The characteristics specific to Creels that you mentioned are definitely characteristics I too share. Thank you for posting for all of us.
I enjoy all your information and the various responses. I see that back in 2010, one of my French Creel relatives posted to you. She is Gaelle and represents the 4th generation of Creel descendants living in France. The line was begun by Avery Nelson Creel who fought in WWI, was wounded, married his nurse and, after a couple of years in Alabama, returned to France and raised two sons. These two sons each had four children (six boys) so the Creel name flourishes. Now there are five generations and I believe 56 living descendants! Since I know French I keep in contact with several of them. My maternal grandmother was Martha Jane Creel (b.1872) who married William Thomas Smith in Morgan Co., AL.
Gene,
I am working on all the grand children of Joseph and Sarah Creel. I grew up knowing your Uncle Odus Smith and have a story about him I could share with you some time. I have known his son James Robert all my life. My uncles drove trucks for him when he first started his business. I live at Fairview.
William
I HAVE KNOWLEGE OF MAY FAMILY LEAVING IRELLAND YR 1875 AND MARRYING INTO MARGACH FAMILY AT CRAIGALLICHIE SCOTLAND THUS MY MIDDLE NAME MAY BARONETCY IN DUBLIN YR 1850 THEY WENT TO IRELAND FROM ENGLAND DO YOU KNOW MORE IT WOULD BE APPRECIATED REGARDS JOE
My grandfather (Lawrence) was born in either Billings, Montana or Casper, Wyoming in the 1930’s. Does anyone have any information regarding this part of the Creel family? I am under the impression that they come from Arkansas and prior to that, Alabama.
Last name Creel* not “Cree;”
Hi Ramona,
My Grandparents were Thomas Lee Creel/Ollie Creel (Tillman)from St. Leo and Mobile, Al. Hello, Cousin!
Ramona,
Here is my story: My Dad, Jack Lane was adopted in 1945 by Oscar Lane and Barbara Mae Lane (Tillman) who is the sister of Ollie Creel (Tillman). She told my Mom on her deathbed that my Dad was adopted within the family, but she never told my Dad as did none of the other members of the family. I’ve been on a crusade to find my real grandparents and had my Dad do some DNA testing. My Dad got a 1st Cousin DNA match that turned out to be the daughter of “Floncine Creel”. That has narrowed my search down to 1 of Floncine’s four other sisters. My Dad’s paternal side looks to probably be Cuban in nationality so far. So the search led me to your website and I’m glad to have found you Cuz!
Right back atcha!
Thank you so much for posting your lineage, Ramona! I’ve always been told that my line of Creels began in GA, but later migrated through Al, MS, LA, TX, and finally OK. Though my daddy, Frank N. Creel, was born in Oregon, he primarily grew up in Southeast Oklahoma. His father was W. B. “Peck” Creel. I recall plenty of “Williams” and “Johns” being mentioned in our line! We have a “Preston” as well. So many others in common, but too many to list here. I forwarded your site to my mother, Jo Anne (Sapp) Creel, who has been wonderfully diligent in helping our Creel cousins research the lineage. We have an excellent family picture of my Creel great-grandparents, sitting in front of their home with my “Pa” and his 5 siblings standing round. I’m so thankful that you have posted such detailed information of your line of Creels!! Thank you!
You are muchly welcome!
Big hello from Kent, United kingdom
Hello there across the pond!
I am doing lineage research on one Roland May, wife, Minnie (Annie)Pilcher. Her father was John W. Pilcher, and mother Laura(?). I would like to further the lineage of Roland May, Mississippi, on the May line. If you could help ime I would deeply appreciate it. I do know an Mildred May Myers was in the DAR through the May lineage line.
Diana J. Schwartz
laceyann@roadrunner.com
Glad to be part of this discussion. My grandmother was Wynella Creel Caudle and I inherited the book “Anywhere I Wander” I find facts and legends relating to Creel family by J. Adolphus Owens Volume II
From her.
Ramona,
You have to go back to William born 1712 before we have a common ancestor. Yet living all around me in Cullman county are descendants of your Walter William Creel’s brother Charlie Hampton.
Very cool!
Greetings,
I am currently working on a biography of George Creel (1876-1953), who was born in Missouri and was chairman of the Committee on Public Information during World War I.
I would be interested in any information on his line, particularly the early history of his Creel line for the first chapter.
Email: twestcott@kc.rr.com
Timothy Westcott, Ph.D.
Associate Professor of History
Park University
Parkville, MO.
Hopefully, someone here will be able to help out!
Hi Ramona,
My Great, great Grandmother was Nancy Jane Creel who was Newton Creel’s daughter. Newton was John Creel’s son so I think that makes us kindof related. I am trying to get ahold of some of my family who live in Dora, AL and not having a lot of success but it has been very interesting doing research.
My mother was a Creel from Dora, AL.
Mine was from Whodathoughtit. ;)
Happy to meet you!
Great stuff, opened a floodgate of info for a “little explored” region of my ancestry that washed me back a couple hundred years. I wish that my aunt Rosemary (Hunnicutt) Keilbasa were alive so that I could share it with her. Her daughter Jan, Jan, will have to do in her stead. Thanks for all the info, I will make a note for this page.
I’m all about the floodgates!
I’m looking for the birth mother of Crystal Tiffany Creel born July 16, 1962. Mothers name is either Patricia Dana or Dana Patricia Creel. She would be around 73. Crystal was born at the Salvation Army Hospital in Easley, Alabama. The mother also had 2 boys just a couple of years after the birth of Crystal. Any info is appreciated.
I don’t know a Patricia Dana — only a Patricia Lou (my sister). Sorry!
Alexander Mays landed in Wilmington Delaware from Ireland in 1796. There are record’s and other evidence that the Allegheny Valley, and other locations in Pennsylvania and Delaware.
whats up cousins?
Hi cousin!
My dad was Cluade O’val Creel b. 1923 d. 1978
Grand dad was John Randolph Creel was born Jan 23, 1895 and died Dec 12, 1975.
He was married to Gene (Eugene?) Burris
I remember my dad talking about an “Uncle Bill” (William?)
and something about ancestors coming over on a boat from Ireland. Best I know is that Creel surname is of Scots-Irish origin. Where did you get your info?
Hey there cuz! My father’s cousin and my mother’s sister did most of the research you see.
I’m Lamar Ray creel first grandson who some where fam with Joseph Monroe creel and early Washington
Very nice to meet you, Lamar!
Interesting. Much similar to research I have done and witnessed elsewhere. Thanks for your presentation. It is enjoyable and informative to read over.
You are quite welcome!
I’m searching for family history. Creel’s from Texas. William Thurston Creel from Wylie Texas Had two other Siblings. His alias was Happy Creel he had 7 Children one died at birth or shortly after. Oldest was Ruth youngest was Rick.
I am not sure I know of this Creel — but I do have family from Texas, so maybe there’s a connection.
whats up relatives?
Caught a boat from France in the 1600s
Do you have some genealogical records for that? Love to get a copy!
Whaddup? :)
My grandfather, Phillip R Creel was from New Augusta, MS but moved to Pascagoula when he was a child. His father (Woodrow Creel) and mother (Lowe Clifton) were born and raised there. I did not see any information on them because they did not keep records of their family members. I know Woodrow’s father was named Jesse Creel.
Very glad to find your hilarious website today. My maternal grandfather was Jimmy Creel of Downs Illinois. From research done by some of my forebears I can see we descended through the William and John Creel lines in Northern Virginia. My aunt always told me “we have relatives living in Louisiana” but I never knew anything more about them. THANKS for your Creel genealogy on this website. I truly appreciate your light-hearted approach to this subject, a wonderful contrast to the all-too-serious researchers I usually find. Sincerely, very likely your cousin, Bob
So happy to connect with you! (And so glad you appreciate my snark!) Keep in touch!
I found some information from your research. I have a Henry creel and Henrietta creel as well. Do you have anymore information on the creels in Virginia, south and North Carolina as well? Please let me know.
what you see is all I have right now — but if I find more, I’ll be sure to let you know!
Hello Ramona,
I am the new administrator of the Creel Y-DNA Family project on FamiyTreeDNA and would like to invite you and anyone else who are Creels to take part in our project. We are tracing the origins of each line of Creels back to all of our common ancestors. In tracing family history, I’ve discovered many interesting things that have been forgotten by history or lost in the ether of the past.
To let you know, my father is the direct male descendant of George Creel Sr. and Mary Athey Creel. George was born in 1745, Prince William County, Virginia. He and Mary had 10 children and in 1799, emigrated to Wood County, Virginia (now West Virginia) with 7 of their children. I was born not far from the old family homestead in what is now West Virginia. I’ve researched this line of the family heavily and several other Creel family lines. I’ve found a few errors in past research due to misreads and wild guesses, and have been working at correctly them. One thing we do know is that the Creel family emigrated out of Virginia to parts all over the United States and I pretty well know at this point the Virginia origins of most of the lines.
We’ve found out very interesting things about our Creel family and have quite a few more mysteries to resolve. Anyone who would like to take part in the research is invited to join. Autosomal, Mitochondrial and Y-DNA testing will help us arrive at answers and make our journeys traveling through time and across the Atlantic easier.
Here’s the web page to take part in the journey. https://www.familytreedna.com/project-join-request.aspx?group=Creel
Kathy Creel-Leppert
Beautiful! I actually just did the ancestry.com thing — thanks to a distant cousin I met through this post, who had an extra kit lying around!
Hi . . .
Covan ‘Ben’ Creel 1903 – 1981 was the father of my high school best friend “Ann”. His wife’s name was “Maud” and she was also from Alabama. Both parents were Bridge Masters. Ann was their only child and she married Norman Crossman (Readers Digest VP)
Ben Creel was an associate editor of ‘The Cleveland Press’.
Ann and I graduated from ‘John Marshall HS’ in Jan 1950. Her address was 4086 West 161st St, Cleveland, Ohio. I lived at 4136 West 161st Street.
Bill Pack
So nice to meet you!
Hi, I’m Mary Burt Neely. My 2nd g-grandfather was William Burt (1797-1900) born in South Carolina and died in Copiah County, MS. I have been looking for his birth parents for a number of years. Just recently, through DNA, I discovered that his birth parents are Thomas Creel (1750-1809) Barnwell South Carolina–married Charity Duke/Dykes (1752-1805). Their children are Soloman Creel, Elizabeth Creel, John Creel, William W.Creel, James Creel, Jordon Creel, and Levicey Creel. Can’t find any record of them having a child in 1797. William was raised by William Burt(1762-1834)and Martha Bates (1786-1834). William W. Creel married Nancy Ann Valentine. Nancy Ann Valentine mother is Mary Bates, sister to Martha Bates who married William Burt. I’m looking for more information on the Creel side of the family. Would love to see some pictures of Creels! Thanks. Mary
Hey I’m from Ga. I been working on my tree and it seems that my ancestors are a missing link in here😁 so here goes! I’m gonna start with George Creel 1775-1832 was married to Mary Jordan 1783-1850 Son Jordan Jeremiah Married Mary White 1801 – N/A they had a sh”t load of kids so my tree starts with their son Joel Stamps Creel 1831-1902 married Malinda Taylor 1833-1911 wait y’all they had a sh” load of kids also so I’m just gonna put a link familySearch my ID is Krissy Smith • L18X-T4V iI guess that’s how to find me