Volume 8, Number 5 - Fall 1983


A Search for the Gayler Family Part II

by Larry Gayler

I woke before six on Wednesday morning, with the thought that in a very short time we would be entering the cave that sheltered Calvin Gayler during long periods over four desperate years. We dressed in older clothes and put on our jogging/walking shoes as Dr. Owen had warned us the area was wild and rough. When we got to his house, I believe he was as excited as we were about what was soon to happen. He had come up with several new ideas and some additional information, including period maps of the area during the 1830 to 1870 era. We had wondered exactly where Swan Township, Newton Township, and the borders of Taney County were. The first county to include our area of interest was Greene County. Later Taney was sliced from this county in 1837. Still later, Stone and Christian Counties were carved from Taney County. I wondered about Stone County, Missouri, having such an important place in Calvin Gayler’s life, and Stone County, Arkansas, being of equal importance to James B. P. Gayler, his son. I wonder how the Arkansas county got its’ name? Who named it?

It was very chilly early in the morning on top of the mountain. We decided to make my calls before descending the slope to the cave area. I called Kansas information for Independence and Douglas, I then dialed and reached Adah Headly, Independence, Kansas, I identified myself and told her I was answering her 1975 inquiry in the Branson Beacon. She was a little stunned at first, then seemed very excited. I asked and found that no one had answered her inquiry. She searched and found the address of Ollie Crowell, Douglas, Kansas, thus saving me another phone call. She has promised information on Mary Gayler Berry. Mrs. Hodson, later in the week, told me a grandson of this same Gayler sister lived in the same small town of Riverton, Kansas as she did. She also told me Berry had served in the War with James B. P. and then had married his sister. This is future fill-in information to be acquired.

In 1937 and 1938, Dr. Owen hired some help to build steps down the steep bluff so better access could be had to the lower bluff area. They had to strip the surface to expose solid rock, muscle down mortar and water, though they did use the water from some natural springs seeping from the side of the mountain. They accumulated and shaped the rock, and the result is a lovely, zig-zagging stairway of 339 eleven inch steps with seven inch risers, interspersed with some walkways of solid stone ledge. This makes it reasonable to get to the level of the caves. We found that the rest seats he had built in periodically are very important on the way up. He loaned me a pair of "Jack & Jenny" gloves, as he and Sandra had gloves, to protect my hands and down we went. There are numerous small animal size caves on the Western slope, and one large enough for man, with a spring running through the floor. Reaching a level about 100 feet above the river, we swung left on a trail. The river is now called Lake Taneycomo (Taney County Missouri) and is a trout bed. Controlled water dumping to produce electrical power at the Table Rock Dam, feeds icy cold water from the bottom of the 250 foot deep waters of Table Rock Lake, and makes the river bed flow in a rapid pace through its some eighteen mile length. With the State Trout fishery feeding fingerlings into the perfect climate of the river, it is a hot bed of fishermen, running their boats up the river and then floating down with the current as they cast and troll for trout. We observed numerous boats fishing as we worked our way along the trail. They were moving in the current faster than we could move on the rugged trail. About midway of his one mile of river front is a Grotto, which is some forty to fifty feet high, looking somewhat like a cave that had collapsed. When it rains, this becomes a water fall, with heavy rains creating a

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roar that can be heard up at the house hundreds of feet away. You can see where, through the years, large boulders have broken from the cliff face and line the basin leading to the river. It is lovely, but difficult to get around in our trip to the cave. The trail is uneven, slippery with loose soil and rocks. Rare handholds make you use the gloves to grab vines and branches to keep from falling. Sandra has a fear of heights, or walking near the edge of anything, thus the trip was a test of overcoming her fear the whole way. I walked behind her to push her up inclines and Dr. Owen led and pulled her or held her hand across slippery places. This is not a trip for the clumsy or crippled. Almost any reasonably healthy person can make it if careful. Slightly over 300 feet from the Grotto is the "Old Soldiers Cave," where Calvin spent many hours, turning into years. My heart was thumping so hard my shirt was moving, or at least I felt that it was. Sandra sat down with her feet in the hole and slid from sight. I followed right behind, scrambling down to the center and finding I could stand to full height, with a little room to spare. When our eyes adjusted to the light filtering through the hole we had entered, we could easily see every detail. Your mind can really be creative under such circumstances, and mine was. What did he do with his time? In what part did he sleep? With the temperature a constant 60 degrees, how did he keep warm? Could he have a fire? If he did, how did he keep searchers from seeing the smoke? Did he work on his guns here? What would you have wondered about? While in the cave, we took several pictures of the cave itself and of each of us in various portions. As we were working with a new, sophisticated camera, I can only hope the pictures turn out. If some do, Dr. Owen will try to use some with his revised article. We discovered a natural cleft in the wall, near the entrance, opening to the outside, forming a natural chimney. You have to lay on your back to see it, but it would work very well. Outside the cave we tried to capture with pictures, the natural protection from observation. Dr. Owen wanted a picture of me sitting in front of the entrance of the cave. As we were discussing this and the area, a small green snake of maybe 18" in length by about three-quarters of an inch diameter, crawled out into the opening close to our feet. The snake sat very still, looking at us as if studying these strange creatures in his domain. After several minutes, someone noticed that it was gone. Dr. Owen slipped a few feet down the slope, finding a place he could be reasonably stable so he could take a picture of me on a rock with the hole behind me. Through the viewfinder, he noticed various branches, and brush he felt would detract from the picture. He told Sandra to hold back one, then another, and another, until she was lying on her back, with each foot and arm trying to hold back something. As he continued to fuss with the focus, Sandra said, "You had better hurry with your picture, cause I just found that snake!" We asked, "Where?" She nervously replied, "Laying about 3 inches from my leg." I got tickled because Dr. Owen had decreed that it was not harmful and refused to hurry up. Sandra was not convinced that it was "not harmful," and appeared eager to move. Like a trooper, she did not, but she sure didn’t hang around when the shutter clicked. Probably scared the poor snake out of a few years growth. We proceeded further down the bluff in an easterly direction, to some larger cave entrances, ones big enough that any one searching would certainly have checked out. On the bluff were several open, shallow caves, where Dr. Owen’s research and discussions led him to believe early Indians had dwelled. I wanted to go down to the waters edge. When I started, I promptly had my feet slide from under me, saving a long slide and maybe a fall only by grabbing brush and tree limbs. I could have gotten down, but getting back up the 100 feet or so of mountainside to the trail -- I wasn’t sure I could. So, one good idea abandoned. We got pretty dirty crawling into the caves and

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sliding on the up-and-down trail. Going back up, we got soaked with perspiration. It took us about three hours and was well worth the time and effort.

I notice I have referred to "Old" Calvin a time or two. Really he was not. At least that is open to the perspective and outlook of the person seeing his age. Calvin was born in 1822, and was 39 when the war started. If the family letters are correct, and I believe them to be, he died about one year after the end of the Civil War, or 1866, therefore being approximately 44 years old when he died. I guess I mentally related the almost 120 years that have passed since this time of trial, and assessed him to be old. As I turned 43 this month, I really know he was reasonably young in years, but the times in which he live did not enjoy the same span of years we might reasonably expect.

After sitting for a loooooong time to get our breath and a normal heartbeat after reaching the top, we enjoyed water from Dr. Owen’s well. He uses a windlass to get the water from some 150 feet down inside the mountain. As this is still another 150 feet above the river, or another mountain, the water must flow upwards in some sort of under ground stream. I thought that was interesting. We returned to the lodge to shower and change clothes. Sandra had developed a head cold, feeling miserable and tired, she chose bed and rest for the afternoon. Dr. Owen had called and set a time to visit his author friends, Elmo Ingenthron, who was in the hospital.

This brings me to another little side point of interest. The hospital is, I believe, named Skaggs Memorial, as M.B. Skaggs, a native of the town, donated a very substantial sum to build the facility. Like so many other structures here, it is built into the side of the mountain. You have to park on a steep slope most places, and either struggle to climb the steep asphalt, more difficult without rubber soles, or apply your personal brakes to keep from almost running down a grade when the direction you need to go is downhill. The trip from the parking lot to the hospital could be difficult to the old or infirm. I found that two families of Skaggs were among the 1,039 persons on the 1860 Census for the immediate area where Calvin lived. This was really quite a few square miles as no town as such existed, and the whole area was called a township. They were the parents or relatives of M. B. Skaggs, who started several Skaggs grocery stores, which when the numbers grew, he changed the name to Safeway. Later his family started the Skaggs-Albertson chain, and after a split, the Skaggs-Alpha-Beta stores. This info kind of gives these stores a little different perspective to me.

I am not sure what I expected after hearing and seeing the books of Elmo Ingenthron discussed, maybe a little reserved, or a manner of elite-ism, but he and his wife Bessie proved to be very warm and kind people. They quickly put me at ease and displayed genuine interest in my project. Mrs. Ingenthron is the mate interested in genealogy, while her husband, the retired Supt. of County Schools, is the historian and author. She offered to help us with her voluminous accumulation of area lore. We accepted for Thursday at 1:00 p.m. We bid them goodbye, and headed for Forsyth again, to meet Sybil Parrish and some ladies from Texas who were arriving this same afternoon, to work on the Parrish family tree. Dr. Owen had remembered her working in a drugstore in Forsyth many years ago. With the name Parrish now known to be Casandra’s maiden name, he thought she might be kin, she called and arranged for us to meet her. With another quick stop at the Ozark Mountaineer offices for another article and issue Dr. Owens notes had indicated I would want, we arrived in Forsyth a little early. By visiting with neighbors (I had already learned that Dr. Owen nor I were bashful when we were searching for information) we found the building that Ira Parrish, one of Casandra’s brothers, had both lived and run a drugstore. Ira was the administrator of the estate of his father (this would be my

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great-great-great-grandfather, Ira Owen Wingfield W. Parrish, Casandra’s Dad) and there is a picture of him operating the family owned and operated Forsyth Ferry. The only dry means of crossing to Forsyth over the White River before, during, and after the Civil War, in the Land Of Taney, one of Mr. Ingenthron’s books.

When Mrs. Parrish, in her nineties, returned home, we were waiting. The two Texas ladies turned out to be Mrs. M. C. Parrish and her daughter, Marian (Parrish) Watson, both nurses from Ft. Worth. They had taken Mrs. Parrish over to the Polk County Courthouse to photocopy some records, not a long way in West Texas standards, and were excited when we explain our purpose and interest. They have done extensive research on the Parrish line, back into England and France. The "Wingfield" in I.O.W.W.’s name was from the first Governor of Virginia Colony appointed by the English King. He was born in Virginia, later to move and add to his family in Indiana, Illinois, and Ohio (where Casandra was born) before settling in Polk County, Missouri till his death. I may be wrong, but I believe there were fourteen sons and daughters, of which the following were still living at the time of his death, including: Ira; Barmet (Barney) Perry; Joseph Calvin; Casandra Ann; John; Meredith; America; Elijah; and Washington. These names were copied from the photocopy made of the estate reading made on 13 Oct. 1853. Now we know where so many of the Calvin Gayler children got their names. At least to this point in my research, many of you will also see a source of your family names. I am going to Ft. Worth and spend the weekend with Marian, photocopy her records, which she has offered to share. As she has already done so much work, this should be a very interesting time and could open a view into still further points of knowledge for all of us. We drove back to Branson ending this second day, well after dark had shrouded all the area. A late snack and a little reading ended this second wonderful day in Branson.

We did not have a slow day in Branson. Thursday proved to be the longest, yet after the excitement of the previous two days, it was not quite as "Action" packed. During the morning I returned to the library to read the information I had just opened on Tuesday morning before meeting Dr. Owen. In about three hours, I got through only one of the four available volumes of the accumulated Ozar’Kin magazine. I found several items of interest and photocopied them. I look forward some day to more thorough research of the many sources of information in Taney County. We picked up Dr. Owen for lunch at 11:30 a. m. and then spent several hours with Mrs. Ingenthron, finding several additional bits of information. I promised to send her the charts I develop from my research so she will have it for her use and records. She was kind enough not to charge me for her time as she normally would, saying the forthcoming information would be satisfactory to her. After all of this work, I remain without leads on only one child of Calvin’s that survived the war. I have not found leads on Elizabeth Jane, have nothing on her later life nor marriage. Do any of you know anything of her later ties, family, or life?

Making still another trip to Forsyth after leaving the Ingenthron’s to check on some details, we returned to Branson by another route than we had previously taken. Spring was bursting forth as a result of the warm, sunny weather we were enjoying. The Redbud tree and a new tree to me, the Service Berry, a tree whose early blossoms cluster into such a large ball of pure white that it resembles large bolls of cotton, were in full bloom. Beautiful hills laced with running creeks are everywhere. The forests are not as lush as those around Mountain View, but have their own beauty. The trees not as tall, the trunks not as large, the brush not quite so rich and thick.

While Sandra was drying some clothes and picking up others from the cleaners,

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Dr. Owen and I went to his home to see some additional papers he had gotten out, including a letter from Hilldred Cox outlining additional family stories that he had received the day before. While there, he called a friend to cancel plans for a trip to Springfield on Friday so he could further assist us. The friend, Bill Cameron, a native of Ireland, agreed to share a quick dinner with us at our lodge if we would join him at a Concert at 8:00 p.m. Dashing to get Sandra, we drove a new road for us, Hiway 265, some eleven miles out to our lodge on Indian Point. We all pitched in to help Sandra fix dinner, ate quickly, and raced back to the Campus for the program. Bill turned out to be 85, a rich brogueish burr to his words and speech, and a lively conversationalist. He had designed and supervised the construction of the active Grist Mill on the campus that produces a variety of corn meals and flour that is used in all the campus cooking and is bagged in a number of labels to be sold to tourist at a number of the different major developments in the area. He also led in moving and restoring a very old, one-room school house, refurnishing it with period pieces, for the many tourists that include the campus on their visits to the area. He was also proud that his wife started the very first kindergarten in the State of Missouri. Sandra wanted me to include that the trip to Springfield, about forty miles away, was to take an Orchid to a Nun, a friend of Bill’s, who had just returned from a long trip. She thought it cute to visualize an 85 year old driving his pickup that far as a gesture of friendship. The campus raises and does research on orchids from a grant by a sponsor. Bill loves old grist mills and their history with a passion and affection I hold for sports. We ended the evening at a concert by Meredith Mizell, a Branson soprano, that was runnerup in the Metropolitan Operas vocal competition in 1982. Very talented and impressive performance. We met several persons here through Dr. Owen. One was Ionamae Rebenstorf, the Executive Secretary of the White River Valley Historical Society. After Dr. Owens quick explanation of our successful search, she agreed to meet us on Friday and led us to her office to get copies of the issues from which Dr. Owen had copied Gayler information. We discovered the next day she had gone home and worked till after 2:00 a.m., seeking information for our use. Everyone seemed to give such strong support and assistance. It was very gratifying to meet such warm, giving, personalities. More success. More notes. More documents. And, of course, the most reasonable fee of $8 for membership in the Society and the assurance of four issues of the publication each year. I promised Mrs. Rebenstorf I would send copies of my family tree and submit an article on my search and success in finding Calvin Gayler facts. She feels sure these will lead to additional contacts. One of the features of the publication, is a section where you can list surnames of families you are searching and give a small paragraph with persons names or facts you particularly desire. This may help in the future.

We went from these offices on the campus, to the library where the head, another friend of Dr. Owen’s, had the locked "Ozarkiana" room opened for our use. In the hour or so we had here, we found an article on Barney Parrish, mentioning both Calvin and Casandra, with other family information. This was from the book Reminiscent History of the Ozarks by Goodspeed. This is another very interesting book. Another by a man name Turnbo, a man fascinated by the people and events of the Civil War, toured and interviewed hundreds of survivors, capturing the common mans perspective for the period of history. He published some books, and still had many unpublished personal interviews and papers. Mrs. Ingenthron had copies of both the published and the unpublished works, all cross referenced, and she found stories on Barney Parrish and a R. H. (Bob) Parks, who, from several items I have found, including census records, I believe is either the father or Uncle of Amanda Clemintine (Parks)

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Gayler, the wife of James B. P. and the mother of their eleven children. I hope I can confirm this in the future. Having to earn a living sure gets in the way of fun things like family research.

We left the Ozarkiana room with a few copies of articles, made a brief tour of the impressive church, got a forty-five minute view of the museum on campus that contains the most extensive gun collection I have ever seen or heard. Not hundreds of guns, thousands. I wondered if one of Calvin’s was there? Oh, fleeting time, why do you so often desert us when we are enjoying interesting things? From here a steak dinner for Dr. Owen and a melancholy, emotion touched, farewell to a friend, supporter, and mentor in our family search. No longer a stranger, a valued person and friend.

Saturday brought packing, a final drive on Hwy 265 across the impressive 275 foot high Table Rock Dam, then across to Hwy 65, turning north to pass through Branson one last time. I believe with maybe two more weeks in Branson in the future, I can trace most of the history tied to our family in the river valley. I hope the good Lord is willing to allow me these days in the future.

The notes and addresses received from Mrs. Dallas Cox in Mt. Vernon, Missouri, during our brief Saturday morning visit, will lead to more accurate history on Laura (Gayler) Cox. Her personal stories on Calvin and Casandra will add to my notes on them. Later in the morning, reaching Joplin, we called Margery (Gayler) Hodson in Riverton, Kansas, and arranged to drive on another side trip to meet her. She is the daughter of Campbell Maynard (Doc) Gayler. She is 85, bright and clear thinking. I have high hopes she will complete the family tree forms I left with her and supply irreplaceable stories and data from her memory.

Other than a lot of driving to get home Sunday night, this ended our "Grandpa Searching" week in Missouri. It was more than I had hoped for. Pleasing! Fulfilling! A personal blessing!

I want to share it and I hope you received some pleasure and enjoyment from these pages.

Editor’s Note: To complete this two-part story, "A Search for the Gaylor Family" by Larry Gayler, many questions have to be answered. HELP, if you can! Write him at 5101 Green Valley Trail, San Angelo, Texas 76904.

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