I’m the seventh generation to grow up on our family farm back in West Virginia. There was David Phillips, Horace Phillips, David Phillips, Jane Phillips Loudin, Rex Loudin, Larry Loudin, and then me. My nieces and nephews aren’t currently living on the farm, but they visit often and know it well. Generation number eight.
During my last visit with Dad (who lives on the farm still) I discovered two copies of The Pioneer–a booklet put out by the Descendants of the French Creek Pioneers. The group met every other year and Virginia Bly Hoover, who seemed to be the perpetual secretary for the group, would write up an account along with details about various descendants.
I have the 1960 and 1976 booklets.
Dad always claimed that on the day I was born, Virginia registered me with the Daughters of the American Revolution (DAR). I will confess to sometimes thinking this was hyperbole or legend. But, according to one of my now prized booklets I am, indeed, a descendant of a Patriot.
The first David Phillips and his brother Elijah were Patriots while their father, Philip (yes, Philip Phillips) was a Loyalist. They left home over a dispute regarding the Revolutionary War and eventually made their way to West Virginia (then Virginia). It was David’s father-in-law, my great-great-great-great-great grandfather Uriah Goodwin who actually fought in the war.
This is why I write about my home–about West Virginia and the farm that sprouted me. My roots there are deep and this sense of belonging to a place and a lineage, well, it’s a treasure I love to share.