Samuel Skinker and His Descendants

Originally published in 1923 by the author. This book is printed to order
by The Apple Manor Press.

My third great-grandfather, Dr. John William McIlhany of Warrenton, Virginia, served as a surgeon for the Confederacy during the Civil War. His wife was Margaret Bispham Skinker (1837-1896). I have spent fifteen years researching the McIlhany family, and am thrilled to have my own copy of this book.

A manuscript of about twenty pages of this book was passed down from my grandparents; perhaps it is original, but it seems to be a copy. I first laid eyes on the actual book about two years ago in Augusta, Georgia, when my Dad and I traveled to meet long-lost McIlhany relatives. I made a connection with Kristy Hyatt, granddaughter of Rob Milton McIlhany, who was the brother of my great-grandmother, Nellie Keith McIlhany Burtnett. We had a small group of McIlhany/Skinker descendants who met among scrapbooks, photos, and papers.

Kristy's sister, Kathy, owns a grand, old, hardback copy of this Skinker book. It was too much for me to pore over in one sitting, but I put it on my back burner and remembered to ask for it this Christmas. The trouble I'm having is where to start! Another issue is getting this volume away from my husband long enough to look at it!

What I enjoy most about the book is the balance of names and information. It's more than a list of pedigrees; one can get lost in the magic of letters, descriptions, and stories that make the lists of ancestors come to life. Thomas Skinker has given us the gift of getting to know our predecessors as souls with joys, fears, sorrows, likes, and dislikes. 

My husband, Jeremy, and I agree that the excerpts included from the diary of James Keith Boswell are a treasure. Boswell's mother was a Skinker, making him not only a cousin by marriage to Dr. John McIlhany, but also a personal friend. The two men mention each other in their individual writings: McIlhany in a letter to his wife, and Boswell in his diary. After being made Captain of Engineers, Boswell reported directly to General T.J. "Stonewall" Jackson, and in May of 1863, received a fatal wound from the same volley that hit Gen. Jackson, who later died of pneumonia.

I am overwhelmed by the store of information in this one publication. Another relative on the McIlhany side, Hugh Milton McIlhany, published a volume in 1903 entitled Some Virginia Families. Owning a copy of this in addition to Samuel Skinker is a privilege for anyone of these family lines. It's a sweet surprise to discover that my affinity for family history is actually inherited. Thomas Skinker himself describes the book as "An Account of the Skinker Family and All Their Kindred Who Have the Blood of Samuel Skinker in Their Veins." That's me; that's my children! 

Today's culture seems to have lost the importance of looking to our ancestors for lessons in wisdom and life. We think that "progress" means eschewing all things old, as they seem "outdated." I'm grateful for men like James Boswell whose chronicles are fascinating to read today, and to others like Thomas Skinker and Hugh McIlhany, who recognized the importance of preserving the words and lives of those who came before us. "There is a virtue in blood that stimulates the energies and preserves the honor of men" (Col. W.H. Stewart, 61st Virginia Regiment). I feel it, and itch to know more of it.

In Memory of Harold

Although Christmas is a time of joyful anticipation, the void caused by loss or other trials can make it painful. On Christmas Eve, 1971, the Wilde family experienced unthinkable tragedy. Let's get to know Harold Dean Wilde through the eyes of his big brother, my father-in-law, Jim:

Harold Wilde (My Baby Brother)

Harold was born on February 24, 1951. He was a beautiful, handsome baby. We were always very close. I remember when we were in daycare, if one of us was punished for violating the rules, the other brother cried. I loved my brother deeply, and was very proud of him. He had blond hair and big brown eyes. Growing up, he had all the pretty girlfriends. He played in the band in junior high and high school; Parker High School had one of the top bands in South Carolina, and my brother was a star drummer.

I remember one Christmas, when he was wearing a cast from a broken ankle, the band director had Harold march with the junior high school band down Main Street in Greenville. When they got to the end, he got in a vehicle and they took him back to the beginning of the parade route, then marched down with the Parker High School Band. He had painted the bottom of his cast in black to match the sole of his white band uniform shoes.

Harold loved football, and was one of the toughest football players I have ever seen. We had community football teams at that time, and Harold was a middle linebacker for the American Spinning Team. I remember him tackling a guy so hard that he flipped him in the air, the kid fumbled the ball, and Harold recovered it! He wanted to play football for his favorite team, the University of Tennessee, but was too small, and had other interests first.

Harold joined the Marine Corps in 1969, right out of high school. I was in the Army, and we corresponded occasionally. When our grandmother died, we both came home for the funeral. Harold was stationed at Camp LeJeune at the time, and I was stationed in the Republic of Panama. I remember driving with my Dad to take Harold back to Camp Lejeune the night after the funeral. It was an all-night drive. Later stationed in Okinawa, Harold was a door gunner on an airplane that took ammunition to the Marines at the militarized zone in Viet Nam. His group came under attack and from shrapnel in his leg, he was given an honorable discharge and came home.   

Harold Wilde around 1969.

Harold met a girl in Newport,Tennessee, shortly before going to Okinawa, and they were married when he came home from his tour of duty. Harold and his wife lived in Greenville.  He worked as a supervisor in warehousing with a textile company. In 1971, I was in my first year of college, living at home with mom and dad, and working for my brother during the holidays. That year, Harold drove his wife home to Newport on December 23^rd. He had to work on Christmas Eve, and left just after midnight of the 24th to head back to Greenville. His plan was to work on Christmas Eve day in Greenville, then drive back to Newport to spend Christmas Eve with his wife’s mom and family. He intended to return to Mom and Dad's to spend Christmas with us.  

At approximately 2:30 a.m. on Christmas Eve morning, my Dad answered a call from a North Carolina State Trooper. After a few seconds on the phone, Dad broke down crying, so I finished the call. The trooper said that my brother had been involved in a serious accident on Interstate 40 between Canton, NC, and Waynesville. He also said that it was obvious that a drunk man was on the wrong side of the highway, and my brother was passing a transfer truck in the left lane when the accident, a head-on collision, occurred.

I asked the officer about the drunk guy's injuries and how he was doing. He said the guy was in serious condition with a punctured lung, teeth knocked out, and several broken bones, but that it looked like he would recover. Then I asked him how my brother was doing. After several seconds of pause, he said, “Oh, he didn’t make it." I thanked him, got off the phone, and asked Mom and Dad to get ready; we were going to Haywood County Memorial Hospital in Waynesville. All the way to the exit to the hospital, they kept asking me what the officer had said about Harold’s condition. I prayed all the way, silently asking God how to deal with this. I told Mom and Dad about Harold’s death just as we were turning off of I-40 onto the exit to the hospital.

Jim and Harold Wilde with their Dad, Abe

The day after the funeral, my Dad asked me to drive him to the hospital in Waynesville to see this man that had killed his son. My Dad was a good, loving, Christian man, and I knew he was not violent. I had no idea what he was going to say to this person if we were able to even see him. When we got to his room, my Dad walked over to his bed to introduce himself. The guy was heavily bandaged, and was nervous when dad introduced himself.

Dad told him that he loved him, and he knew that the guy didn’t mean to kill his son. He told the man that he didn’t want him to go through life thinking that Dad hated him for what he did. Dad picked up a Bible on the table next to the bed, opened it, and read Scripture.  Dad was not an educated person, but I remember that the Scripture was appropriate. The guy cried after my Dad prayed with him. This was a very important point in my life, and more importantly, in my faith. My brother and I were blessed to have grown up in a Christian family.

Many of the living Wildes are sad that we never knew Uncle Harold, yet are blessed to keep his memory alive. It's in the spirit of "sorrowful, yet rejoicing" that we thank God for him, confident that because of the blood of the Baby born on Christmas, we will see Harold again one day. 

Article on Family Stories

Over dinner tonight at the table of our close friends Michael and Emily, I shared with them about my idea to put together family stories and information on this new blog. Michael told me about this pertinent article on the subject of passing family stories on to our children.

As for when to post the first actual family story, I'm waiting for Christmas Eve. Stay tuned! Continue to enjoy this Advent season, anticipating the arrival of the Baby who changed the world.

What is This Blog?

My enjoyment of blogging recently began when I started The Armor of Light, a blog about my journey on the road of Christian sanctification. Writing has become not just a part of my growth and healing, but also a hobby.

For about fifteen years, I have been a self-proclaimed amateur genealogist. My home is scattered with albums, letters, printed family trees, notes from the Internet, and bits of information collected over the years about folks from all branches of my family tree. I tend to get on research kicks during which I will dig for buried family treasure, then stuff my findings into a drawer and not take it back up for a year. It can be a lot of work to hunt for hours only to find one name or date.

Chronicling is an issue for me. It's easy to jump from one family tree branch to another, and pretty soon, I'm entangled in twigs. For years, I've struggled with how to organize my findings. There are several cherished albums, boxes of letters, and even a book with articles and information haphazardly glued together. Each letter, photo, or clipping tells something valuable about an individual, something to save for posterity. How to keep it organized has been the million dollar question.

And this blog is the answer! Through writing on The Armor of Light, I have discovered that blogging is a pastime worth pursuing. It enables me to save information, be enriched and bring life to others, and keep in touch with family and friends.

History is underrated by my enlightened generation. How much we could stand to learn from our predecessors, and what fun it is to uncover the details of lives past! These folks were living, breathing souls, as we are today, and I want to see them remembered. Not only are we a part of them, but knowing about the things they did and the way they lived is fun! As a homeschooler using the Charlotte Mason method, my enjoyment of history centers around living ideas instead of dry facts. What did the place look like, how did the person dress or feel? What was the atmosphere of the country at the time, and what must it have been like to be that person?

Digging up knowledge about my family members and bringing it back to life is the point of this blog. Stories will cover my relatives on both sides, my husband's on both sides, and certain assorted friends who hold honorary family positions. Surnames I'm looking for include Burtnett (of PA and WV), Wilde (of NC and SC), McIlhany (of VA and WV), Fish (of TN), Jimenez and Quintero (my Cuban relatives), Blocker (of Walterboro, SC), Aull (of SC), Hannah (of IN and NC), Nordsiek (of NY), Pearson (of IN), Brown (of IN), Skinker, Wygal (of VA), and countless others. Time to start digging!