The following is an article about a relative of mine. He left a legacy that continues to this day.

The article mentions that John served a term as a Texas Ranger. He actually served two terms as a Ranger. One term was under Captain Charles Travis (son of William Travis of the Alamo) Charles Travis was not liked by his peers, and he suffered a dishonorable discharge at Fort Mason because of the allegation of cheating at cards. He became a lawyer and spent the rest of his life trying to clear his name. John Turney thought a lot of Charles Travis. So much so that he named a son Charles Travis Turney. Charles Travis Turney was able to leave a legacy much like his father. He developed a method of forage for his cattle. Starting with the use of soap weed growing on the parched, barren soil in New Mexico. His research and discoveries led to the establishment of the Jornada Research Unit, now a government operation.

Charles Travis Turney

This is Sarah Sukie Oocaneechi Cornstalk

Her father was a famous chief and thereby came this rendering of her. Sarah was born April 11, 1667 in Nansemond, Virginia, British Colonial America. She died August 11, 1740 and is buried at Saint Paul’s Episcopal Churchyard, Edenton Chowan North Carolina. She was a member of the Mohawk Turtle Clan.

Sarah married William Vann in 1688 in Suffolk, Virginia British Columbia America. They had thirteen children together. Sarah and William tragically died in a house fire. There is a will on file for William Vann.

This is my paternal eighth great grandmother.

Sidney William Stephenson emigrated from England and joined the U.S. Army in 1870. He married in 1875 and continued his military career until he mustered out in 1880 at Fort McKavett Texas. By that time four of seven children had been born. His wife, Elizabeth Annie Denley also emigrated from England with her family. She stayed in  contact with her father and when they came to Texas, Mister Denley thought he had lost track of his daughter and her family. Lottie Lucile Stephenson had turned two years old when this two page letter arrived on the family doorstep at FortMcKavett. We are so lucky to have this treasure dated 1884, written in the hand of William Denley. He wanted to come to Texas, but we can find no record that he had been able to join the family.

I bet you didn’t know I use to cuss!  Well, I did.  The emphasis here should be on ‘used to’ because that is what this is all about.

As a growing youngster, I stayed out with cowboys almost all the time.  I loved the outdoors, horses, and all the work that went into being a cowboy.  Of course, there was a different language to be learned there.  And I liked that as well.  Let me tell you, I learned to cuss from the best.  I learned what word to use, and when to use it.  It was perfected out in the middle of no where, too.  There is no question about it, I was an accomplished expert at cussing by a very young age.  Some problems began to develop when my social circle began to broaden and I came into contact with people other than the cowboys

My parents became concerned about my proficiency in the use of language as I neared the time to start school.  I remember this time period very well and wondered to myself what the fuss was all about.  After all, the cowboys had no problem with how I talked, and that was where I wanted to be.

As my first school days neared, I moved in with my Grandmother.  She raised four boys and four girls. My parents expressed concern about my language to her.  She said it was not a problem and that she could have that fixed in just a few days.  My parents were so impressed they promised my Grandmother a complete set of china.

Looking back at all this, I am pretty sure I was set up!  My Grandmother had a big family, and she really needed some china!

Starting from day one, my Grandmother let me know in no uncertain terms that cussing was no longer allowed, and if she heard a single word, she would wash my mouth out with soap!

There must be a recipe out there somewhere that Grandmothers know about for making such soap.  She had some of the most foul tasting soap known to man!  She either made it herself or sent off to the “cuss stopping institute” for their special “hard to cure case” soap. It was just awful.  I think my Grandmother knew it was really bad stuff.

After the second time on the very first morning, she came up with a solution.  She said, “I will make a trade with you.  Here it is…don’t cuss around adults, and I will quit washing your mouth out with this awful soap.” I quit cussing that very day.  Every once in a while I would slip, but I made sure there were no adults around.

This program was so successful my parents bought my Grandmother a full set of china for her efforts.  She kept them on display in cabinets in her dining room.  Everyone congratulated my Grandmother on her new china, and she would wink at me when they did.

Upon her passing, my Grandmother had it written the dishes were to be passed to me because I was actually the one who earned them. I still have them. The have “made in occupied Japan” printed on them.  We use them on special occasions and they are on display in our china cabinet. I think of her when I look at them. Every once in a while, when I look at those dishes, I can still taste that soap.

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My Grandmother dipped snuff!!! There it is…it’s out there now… (She really didn’t want anybody to know…even though everybody did know).

It wasn’t just any snuff either, it was three dot Garrett snuff. Ever tried that? I did…it’s the stuff you kinda want to back away from slowly. My Grandmother was the mother to four girls and four boys…she earned the right to dip what ever she wanted!

When I lived with my Grandmother, it became a common thing, that my Grandmother dipped snuff.  I don’t recall ever really paying attention to it, we had so much other stuff to do.  I do remember her dashing to the bathroom when unexpected company drove up to her house and she would tell me on the way to tell them she would be right out.  She would call her grocery order in on Thursday afternoons to have it delivered to her house on Friday afternoon, and snuff was always on the order. If the store happened to be out of it, my aunt would be called to rustle around town and find some.  I think my aunt had a small can at her house for emergency back up.  Apparently, my Grandmother was someone you didn’t want to be around if she went without snuff for any length of time.  Mind you, my Grandmother was the most gentle, loving person on earth. I never saw the “no snuff” side of her.

In her later years, she fell and broke her hip (doctor said it could have been the other way around where she broke her hip and fell). My Grandmother was born in 1880 and was 94 or so at the time and the Doctor gave her very little chance of recovery…even coming out of the anesthesia might not happen. We waited in the waiting room for several hours and the doctor came rushing out….” I now know she is a covered wagon girl, but what in the hell is 3 dot Garrett?” My Aunt said it’s her snuff…he said, “Well get it before she tears up the ICU!” We had some on hand and gave it to him.

Later, after all the fuss died down, the doctor came out to give us an update on how things went.  He told us everything went fine, but she will need to convalesce for a few weeks, and if she went home from that, she would require nursing visits daily to make sure she stayed on the mend. The doctor said they don’t come any tougher than a covered wagon girl.

When asked about the covered wagon comment. The doctor said he had gone to the intensive care unit to check on her and she was awake and was talking-giving orders was more like it.  He said my Grandmother let him know in no uncertain terms she has been through a lot worse than what his scrawny rear end could put her through, but she required her snuff before anything else happened. Once she got the snuff, he said she became an inspiration.

While my aunt had been a daily visitor for my Grandmother, she was at an age where the nursing chores would have to be taken over by someone else.  As a result, my Grandmother never left the convalescence atmosphere.  Her home was everything to her.  Her father, a carpenter, built the structure. It was added on a couple of time before his death in 1905 in that house.  Her mother lived with her in that house until her death.  My Grandmother was never able to mend well enough to return to her home, and I think it broke her heart. She passed away after spending a couple of years recuperating, and finally knowing she would not be able to return home.

My Grandmother, holding her Great Grandson forty-six years ago.  He has a bottle of her three dot Garrett snuff.

The key to my Grandmother’s house is something everybody had.

You were welcomed there, happy, grieving, melancholy or sad.

Come on in and share with me, she says,  your tales, your life, your woes.

I will always listen, never criticize and help you with curves life throws.

My house can be your house for as long as it takes,

For I know that time and love can heal the breaks.

Let’s have coffee or tea,

And you can certainly tell me.

I will always listen and hear what you say,

And maybe you will be happier when you are on your way.

Yes, you can be happy with a key to my Grandmother’s house.

Life was lived there.