NCIS season premiere

September 29, 2012

My husband and I love NCIS. It is one of our activities we do together. Ever since the cliff hanger, I’ve been waiting to see if my least favorite character actually dies off the show. Please God, let Ducky be off the darn show, it would SO improve it…… but that was not to be. He lives through his heart attack and even becomes a freaking hero on the hospital bed, “As soon as they get the stint in, I’ll be free to travel. Get me there even if you have to drive me, THEY NEED ME!” Oh, break my heart.

Unfortunately, the entire episode was melodramatic and a big let down. However, that is not why I am devoting a blog entry to this episode. It was also rather disturbing. 

I think it is disturbing when a Federal law enforcement team, even if it is “for the Navy,” no longer acts like a law enforcement team, and it becomes a personal vendetta, especially by the leader of the “team” to go get this guy. And not only go get him, but murder him unnecessarily. After this psycho-maniac bombs the whole team’s work headquarters and tries to kill them, the President of the United States makes a phone call to the FBI, telling them to proceed “with full prejudice”. We learn that this means the team goes on the offensive. The entire show had many flaws. One, they have an FBI agent undercover convince the psycho to come home with her. There she lies across the bed, the psycho goes into the bathroom, then a swat team comes charging in and blasts the bathroom door with gun shots. But psycho gets away. Really?? Why didn’t they just shoot him when she lures him into a car. Why not as he enters the hotel room?? Why not arrest him as he stands at the store window where she walks up to him & starts a conversation? They certainly wouldn’t WAIT TILL HE GOES INTO THE BATHROOM behind a closed door. 

At the end, Gibbs declares it’s “personal” because “he went after my family”, meaning his team. Okay Gibbs, we know you have no life at all, but really, there’s a whole world out there you are defending every show. Your team is always threatened, always in danger. This guy is no different. Your JOB is to stop him and bring him in. But that is not what happens. Since “full prejudice” has been declared, Gibbs goes off to find him and kill him. He convinces his supervisor to send him ALONE (as if that would really happen ever). Then he finds psycho at the house he said he’d be at. No one else goes along. Gibbs has a brief conversation with Mr. Psycho, refuses to have a drink with him, then watches as Psycho-bomber stands at a window where there is a gun lying on the window sill. Obviously it is there for him to either kill Gibbs, himself, or both. I keep waiting for the house to blow up because he is an expert explosives guy. But no, he grabs for the GUN, which frees Gibbs to block it and knock it out of his hand, and in the same INSTANT, STABS this guy to death. The guy falls down & that’s it. Break to Gibbs at a cemetary while we hear Mr. Psycho’s son’s voice talking to his dad about loving America & that’s why he wants to be part of the Navy. His son had been killed, which is what set Mr. Psycho off to kill people in the Navy for revenge.

The underlying theme is that sometimes you have to take the law into your own hands. You have to go “get the bad guy” and the rules about preservation of life no longer apply to you. You just kill the guy. Even though you could have arrested & brought him in, you take the law into your own hands and take his life. But only because, this time, he “went after Gibbs’ family.” The lesson here is that when you have to protect your family, it’s okay to commit violence yourself. Go after the bad guy alone. And take him out. Well it doesn’t work that way in real life. Lots of times people don’t quite have their story straight, or they are drunk, & they go after someone who is not really guilty. And they commit murder and go to prison. Not a good thing usually for any citizen to go after someone and take revenge into their own hands. But this was Gibbs.

As much as we want to be able to do this, it is not right. If we believe it is, then society has lost its heart. Society has lost its civility, and the system of justice doesn’t work. I disagree. It is not okay to go after someone, even if he has hurt you, taking his life or taking him “out” all alone, with no repercussions. Gibbs stabbed someone to death and is perfectly fine afterwards. Happy. Satisfied. Not a good message. Hopefully he would at the very least be torn up inside for doing it. He’d be at least a little torn as to whether he should have done it that quickly, and that easily. They didn’t have a scuffle and the gun go off. Gibbs knocked the gun out of the guy’s hand and then stabbed him to death. It was planned, deliberate. Necessary.

I think this is a disturbing message of murder and violence with no repercussions. Next week, Miss Happy Face Gabby is dealing with serious psychological problems due to the bombing. We can be sure that it won’t be Gibbs going to talk to the psychologist. I hope the whole new season is not as superficial and disappointing as this.

what happens to a dream deferred?

September 14, 2012

When talking about the American Dream and how some people feel who work dead-end jobs for years on end, in Social Problems class, I often have them look up “What happens to a dream deferred?” by Langston Hughes. It’s a short little poem, easily googled and found, and we read it out loud in class. How does it feel to live in America and never reach success, to spend a lifetime struggling to get there but never quite make it?

This morning I realized why I can so easily relate to that poem. It’s not that I am stuck in a dead end job. I most certainly have a challenging and rewarding job that fulfills me in many ways. I have a good salary, twice what I earned at a university library before going back to school and achieving my PhD. I get to work with young adults, foster critical thinking, think and talk with them about how they would like to shape and affect society. I have a chance for advancement in the form of promotion.

The reason I can relate to the poem has more to do with the struggle over the years, just to pay our bills and get to where we are now. This morning I called our auto company, for the simple reason I wanted to make a payment online, and it did not recognize my account number and birthdate. It kept kicking me out and saying I had not entered the correct information. So I call the company.

We first have to give our address, phone number, account number, e-mail address, to check identity. That being done, I explain to the lady my predicament. Instead of understanding the screen I was on, she resets my login password. I had been able to log in but not to get past the NEXT screen, which asked for my account # & birthdate. I LIKE my old password and did not want it changed. However, by this time the deed is done. Then my phone accidently disconnects. This begins the process ALL OVER again, so I have to call their number, wait through the recording of all the things that do not address my problem, hit “6” for “other” and eventually get to a real human being. I go through all the identity checks once again. They have a new technique now of asking you some mundane question such as, “What are your plans for this weekend ma’am?” I have zero patience for these questions at this point and told him so, saying, “No offence, but I’m not going to talk w/ you about my plans for the weekend, I just want this issue resolved.” He resets my password once AGAIN. I now try to log in with his new password, sent to my e-mail account. It doesn’t work. From HIS end, it is letting him log in to the account. From MY computer, at home, it does not let me log in, even though I cut and paste the new password he sent me. Finally, we give up. I’ve spent the last 25 minutes on the phone with them and still cannot log in to my account. I have to go to work.

At the office later, they call me, because once you are late on a payment they have a system of total harassment that kicks in and they call you 5-6X/day. I explain to the lady my predicament. Suddenly she cannot HEAR a word I’m saying. She tells me I will have to call back but that I can ask for her, and will be transfered to her. She gives me her name. I hang up. I call back. The man I’m talking to with an accent from India says he does not have the capability to transfer me to anyone. I give up and make a payment by phone. I ask him to change my bills to send them to me in paper form instead of being available online. His response, “Ma’am, I cannot do that for you, you have to do that for yourself online.”  He tells me he will reset my password so that I can easily log in online. Have a good day, good bye. ———–???????????

The reality of paying bills and struggling to keep everything in line today is that you have to go through this tedious process, face this frustration and deal with people somewhere on the other side of the world trying to explain to you what you owe and how to log in to your account, over and over and over and over again, and eventually this whole struggle gets to you. You feel humiliated. You have people address you in condescending ways time after time, and not treat you as a full intelligent human being. “Ma’am, I need to tell you that your account is 14 days behind….”  “Yes I know, that’s why I’m trying to make a payment.”  “Ma’am your request for deferment was denied.” “Well your new password works for me, ma’am, I’m not sure why it won’t work for you.” “Well you can mail us the payment but then it will be late…………”

After many years of struggling through hardship, struggling through my husband’s unemployment that is not my husband’s fault, struggling through doing our best to pay our bills but running into hardships or medical issues and not receiving any understanding from people on the phone whose job is to placate you and (bottom line) just get the darn payment, it absolutely breaks you down. I feel the dream deferred feeling. I know it, it is a part of my being. I turn to God, take a deep breath, say a prayer, feel His ever-loving presence in my life telling me He loves me, and realize there is so much more to the meaning of life than this frustrating phone call. I appreciate the beauty of life around me. And I move on.

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore–
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over–
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

Langston Hughes

Health care in America

September 12, 2012

I’ve had an inner ear infection for 2 1/2 weeks. Waited through the 1st week because I already had a post-op appt. w/ my gynecologist. I asked if she could look at my EAR while there & she said yes. Okay by me, one less co-pay. She took one look & said, “OH. Inner ear infection & it’s pretty bad.” Prescribed amoxycillin. Took it for a week w/ no result. Ear still plugged. She then prescribed ear drops so expensive I thought they forgot to use the insurance card! $35. my cost. Took those for a week. The last 2 days it started to feel not so bad. The liquid rolling around inside was gone. But it still throbs and tickles sometimes, so I went ahead and went in to the specialist appt. they had made for me as well. 

The specialist acted rather huffy about my being somewhere else before him when it was an ear infection. Liquid all gone, basically said “you’re cured, drops did what they were supposed to do, quit taking them”. but take ibuprofen for pain. Does that make sense to you? Doesn’t really make much sense to me. Evidently it can take extra weeks for everything to feel 100%. He felt my jaw & said he thought the infection had gotten into my jaw & it’s still sore. I said, “Well it was a bad inner ear infection.” His response, “Well I never saw that so I don’t know.” 

Dear Specialist, people cannot come to you right away because for 1) Our insurance only allows us to be REFERRED to you AFTER we have seen our primary doctor. So get over it. And 2) When we DO call, or actually the primary doctor’s office help calls because we’re not allowed to call you ourselves, it takes ANOTHER WEEK to get into you! So please do not be offended I wasn’t here 2 weeks ago. You still got your extra $35.00 co-pay for you to tell me I’m cured, and I’m sure the insurance company has to pay you 5X more than that. 

Legitimate or forcible rape, what does it mean?

August 22, 2012

I keep thinking about the “legitimate rape” comment. What does it really mean?? Obviously it doesn’t make any sense. But I think the meaning of saying it calls into question, first of all, that rape even happens. Or if it does, many are not “legitimate”. What would they be, then? Ones in which women cooperated, brought it on themselves, or simply accused someone dishonestly. It appears that his belief is that many rapes are not really rapes– so that’s the beginning of the meaning.

Then, as you have heard, I’m sure, his next comments brought out some AMAZINGLY STUPID belief that women’s bodies somehow recognize rape semen from a lover’s semen, and this amazing woman’s body rejects the rape semen so she doesn’t get pregnant. WOW! I wonder how much he even knows about his own wife’s body.

Anyway, the MEANING of this second comment, to me, means ignorance, plus some sort of weird “set her on a pedastal” belief about the woman’s body. It’s not just a body, it is a spiritually intuned magically gifted body that can cause itself not to accept a man’s semen. What this represents is still not clear in my mind, but it almost sounds like basis for some sort of weird mysogyny. Some sort of disdain for women as a magical being of some sort. We’re not. We’re just humans, like he is. So don’t put us on a pedestal or treat us in any other way but human. That’s what we are.

THIRD, he then tries to EXPLAIN his comments by saying, what he meant was “forcible rape” instead of legitimate rape. Instead of sincerely apologizing, he stoops to a new stupid low. Now it’s forcible rape. Really? Again, read paragraph one.

Lastly, though I think he should now resign, I also think that the superior outcome would be actual education, sincere consultation, and learning on his part. He could sponsor an open forum on the subject of rape. What is it exactly? How often does it occur in society? And how often does it result in pregnancy? There are many theories about why it happens. It is definitely an act of violence. On the other hand, it is also somehow tied up with sexual excitement, because, not many older women get raped. There is some sort of preference being shown. And then a lot of it is education about alcohol, responsibility even when you or someone else is drinking, on both men’s & women’s parts. But it is NEVER okay. And it is ALWAYS rape. Don’t qualify it into divisions you made up yourself to excuse yourself, make yourself feel better, OR more easily blame those that it HAPPENS TO.

I personally find it dumbfounding that we are having THESE discussions this election. But it shows how gender bias or mysogyny is still rampant, and people spew it forth without thinking.

a quick trek over 6 decades – almost

August 18, 2012

Tomorrow is my birthday. I was born approximately 1:10pm on a Wednesday, 59 years ago. My older brother was 8 years older than me so there was a big space between babies. In fact, my parents had been trying to conceive for probably a couple years, so my birth was greatly anticipated. I imagine the fact that they then had a girl, after awaiting their 2nd child and already having a son, was also a source of joy. Being born in the middle of summer and a Leo, I have an enjoyment of hot weather (although not so great as my husband’s). Over the years, I’ve had my birthday in quite a few places, such as the Grand Canyon, Yosemite Natl Park or Mexico, since the family was often on vacation. As a kid, I never got an in-school birthday party, but I did get my birthday in fascinating places!

My thought for this blog is to give some very brief thoughts for each decade of my life. I am not as prolific as I used to be and seem to be much more introspective these days. But this sort of occasion seems to merit some musings.

My childhood home was Indiana. Most of my life, in fact, was spent in this state. I have realized, after living a few other places, that there is definitely a Midwestern culture and a Midwestern value system, and I subscribe to it. What is that, you ask? It has something to do with living through the hardship of Winter and smiling at the snow, appreciating survival, appreciating life, taking precautions against the cold that can literally kill you, and knowing the pure joy of a fire in the fireplace on a cold Winter evening. We have been snowed in with our kids for days, more than once. The first time with children was when our firstborn was a few months old. My husband’s parents lived in the house next door and it took 2 days to get out to them. I have realized over time that this teaches you to work through the tough times. The Midwest and Purdue also have their cultural flavor. Hispanics hit the scene big time much later than the time when I was growing up, but they are part of the culture, part of the landscape now. Asians at Purdue are a large population. I grew up appreciating diversity, seeing diversity through my father’s profession and school, if not so much in our own neighborhood. We entertained my father’s international students many times in our home as dinner guests.

My first decade. Memories, to me, revolve around the houses I’ve lived in. My first 5 years were spent close to Purdue. Being a Boilermaker is literally part of my bones. My father graduated from and taught there, I was taken to basketball games probably before I could speak, and I used to go with him to campus on Saturdays, blissfully exploring the Mechanical Engineering building while he worked in his office. There were all sorts of displays of machines of various kinds. One of them was a weighing machine where my younger sister and I could weigh ourselves. It was a big adventure. My sister was born 2 1/2 years after me. One of my very earliest memories is of myself crawling on the floor pretending to be a baby, with her bottle in my mouth.

At age 5, we moved across the river, still in Purdue country but not exactly in the same town. We moved into a much larger 2-story house with an attic and basement. The attic was hot and full of treasures some people might keep in their garage. We kept them in the attic. The basement was a large circular area with cement floor which we used for roller skating. My younger brother was born literally 8 years after me. This completed my 1st decade, then we moved for one year only, to Michigan.

Fifth grade for me was spent in Michigan. My father took a leave of absence and worked for General Motors for a year. He moved the entire family, wife and 4 children by this time, to Michigan with him for one year. Fifth grade was a blast, I had my favorite teacher of all time, lots of friends, joined Girl Scouts, went camping, and lived next door to a tennis court. It was also the year President Kennedy was shot. I remember it very well.

The next year we left our Michigan home and returned to the same house we left in Indiana. However, by age 13, we were moving again. My father came home one day and said, “Well, where would you like to go, California, or Pennsylvania?” Little did we know, he was looking for a new position and took it from Drexel Institute of Technology, now Drexel University. We moved to a suburb of Philadelphia.

I again made friends, attended schools, living the first year in Germantown PA, and then another suburb. To make a long story short, my life there was drastically changed forever when my beloved father died unexpectedly of a heart attack at age 50. My mother, distraught and lost, moved us back to Indiana, the place she knew, the place where my father’s sister lived and my mother’s parents. I was 16.

By age 18, I was getting married. I met my husband, the man I am still married to now after 40 years. This decade ends with our wedding, two years at Ball State University, and his being drafted, another change which through our life goals into oblivion for a number of years. My husband had a deeply felt belief that this war was wrong. He applied for and received conscientious objector status. This meant you still got drafted, but served 2 years in a hospital or some other public service venue. In fact, it was the end of the Vietnam war and hardly anyone was being drafted anymore. But he was. And he was pulled out of college.

After his time of service was over, we moved back to our hometown looking for jobs and no longer in school. During this decade, our 20s, we began having kids. Our firstborn, a daughter, Jasmine, was born when I was age 24. My father’s mother died that same year. Our second, another daughter, Leah, was born 2 years and 3 mos. later. At the end of this decade, I was having our firstborn son, Jamal, at age 29. These years were filled with promise, filled with joy and discovery, and we were the poorest we’ve ever been our entire lives.

The decade of our 30s was the 1980s. Suffice it to say, the economy flopped. Bad. My husband lost middle management jobs more than once. We were managers of an apt. complex, then moved from there into “an old house we thought we would fix up”. It was an absolute wreck, and we lived there for the next 11 years. I had a miscarriage in 1984, then our fourth and last child was born, a second son, Levin. I was 32 years old for my last child’s birth. The boys were both born AT home, with midwives assisting. We’ve always looked for the natural child birth way, and see child birth as a natural life event that, in most cases if there are absolutely NO early warning signs, goes perfectly well. With 4 children and very little money, you don’t go out often, and it certainly would not have paid me to go to work. I was a stay at home mom for 11 years.

In 1995 we started a grocery store business that eventually also flopped. When our youngest was a year old, I went back to work part-time. This eventually became a full time job, at Purdue University Libraries. AL was working various management jobs and also became the high school soccer coach, turning it into a varsity sport and a VERY successful team. He manages youth well, they relate to him well, and he became a soccer coach as well as a father figure and life coach for them as well. We took in two kids as foster kids during these years, each one for a little over a year. The end of this decade has us both working and active in our community, still very poor.

Our 40s. I worked at the library for the next 16 years, actually spending enough time there to earn a little retirement check which they owe me for the rest of my life, by the time I quit. At some point, I went back to school. It was very easy for me to leave the library, attend a class, and return, staying later to make up time missed. Little did I know, this was the beginning of a back to school process that would just continue on until I completed a Phd, 10 years later! I finished my bachelor’s in 1996, at age 43.

That leaves my final decade of life, up to now. Our fifties. I completed my Master’s at age 47, took almost a year off and then returned to complete my PhD classes. In 2006-07, I felt free to take a one-year visiting professor position in northern Indiana. Looking back, this was not wise, because although it earned me the most income I’ve ever earned in a year up to that point, I did not finish my PhD as planned, and had to quit totally at the end of that year, not work, and just write. I sat down to the computer in April 2007 and wrote out the final chapters day after day after day. It is THE hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. People did not expect me to ever finish — except my family. Without my family’s support, I would not have finished. Students I had entered graduate school with had all left. Students who had come in AFTER me had left. My committee and major professor were wondering if I’d ever do it, and were losing faith in me finishing my goal. I knew this was it, I had to do it now, and I was not about to have come THIS FAR and not finish. So I knocked it out of the park. There were so many battles along the way I cannot even explain, but each one was overcome.

In the summer of ’08, I started applying for permanent teaching jobs. I got 3 interviews and 2 solid offers. I took the one that was tenure track. In Fall of ’08, we moved to another part of the country and I started my job. In October, I returned to Purdue to defend my Phd thesis. In Dec. 2008, on the coldest day of the year, I graduated. I got 4 tickets to the ceremony so my husband did not attend so that our four children would be there watching their mom. What a historic day.

Moving to the south away from my daughter and grand kids in Indiana, and son & his wife in WI, was SO difficult, I cannot begin to convey that. However, after looking for a job in Indiana and not finding one, you have to complete the dream and take a job in your field. And that is what I did. My husband was willing to follow me to my job. As of now we’ve been here 4 years and have 4 publications. The biggest heartache of my life is still being so far away from so much family. Our consolation is that one daughter & her family live also in the south. We now live in 5 different states, with each child in a different state and us in a 5th. We try to visit and take one vacation together per year.

In the middle of this 5th decade, in 2007 my mother died. To spend her last 5 days of life with her and watch the change along with my younger sister and brother, was a blessing that can never be taken away. Two years later, I was also blessed to be with my older brother when he passed.

I have to say, looking back, we have come a long way. I cannot imagine that I am close to living 6 decades. We raised 4 children and they each have a college degree. Two are working in the field they studied and two are not. We have four super grandchildren, 3 boys and 1 girl. Looking forward to the future. I see more grandchildren in my future. 🙂

update on diet/exercise

June 26, 2012

It is going well. 🙂 I have the time right now to do this well, so I am being consistent. When school starts……….. it will be difficult.

Tomorrow I plan to get up & walk farther than I ever have, on a new route. It is 3.5 mi. Let’s see how long it takes me.

Owen family line

June 26, 2012

Coming down into my Grandma Mary Agnew’s family, there is another line of the last name OWEN. I spent some time w/ them today, you know, sitting at their kitchen table drinking coffee and talking. Anyway………..

In one obituary, John Leatherwood Owen, our ancestor, is said to be of WELSH descent. He is said to be buried in Leatherwood cemetary, near Bedford Indiana, but no photo yet. He and his wife Polly have a daughter named Sarah Sallie. In those days, anyone named Sarah is called Sallie, & many times both names go together.
Sarah Sallie marries Thomas Reid, which is the line my Grm. Mary comes from.
The Owen family starts in Virginia with Walter O. Owen, in our tree, in 1708. They go to Wilkes County, North Carolina at some point. Then some of them head to Kentucky, & from there, southern Indiana. A few of them also end up in Tennessee.
John Leatherwood’s father was Barnett Owen. I have a copy of his will. He left his son John $20.00. 🙂  Bartlett doesn’t mention his wife, Frances (*note: my middle name*), so I think she died before him in the same year of 1829.
Bartlett & Frances have 11 children. His will gave me last names of all his daughters (their married names). I have not yet found back to the Welsh ancestor.

my mother’s passing

June 26, 2012

Five years ago on June 22, 2007, my mother’s spirit ascended from her body to heavenly worlds. That was a blessed week, to spend the last 5 days of her life with her, along with my younger brother and sister. And so much has happened since then, it feels like a lifetime ago.

June 2007 was prior to my finishing my PhD, prior to my interviewing and getting a tenure track job in South Carolina, prior to the birth of 2 of my grandchildren in North Carolina, prior to my husband following me to SC and experiencing southern culture. A lifetime ago.

Her last words were, “I love you all.” Whatever difficulties passed between my mother and I, she had a devout faith in God, and she loved all her children and grandchildren with all her heart. I remember her love. I remember her outstretched arms to embrace her oldest grandchild from her hospital bed. I remember her struggle at leaving us. I remember her child-like spirit. Her love for her cat, her car, and Purdue basketball. Let us all remember the very best about a person. I miss her.

more Reid ancestors

June 26, 2012

Working on more of my Grandma Mary Agnew’s ancestors. Some go back to Germany. The oldest woman whose marker I sent yesterday (Elizabeth Riblin) — her family also immigrated from Germany, her father being one of the 1st Germans in Rowan County, North Carolina.

Her father’s name was Martin Riblin. That is what he changed his name to in America. When he immigrated, it was Hans Martin Raible. He owned 300 acres, no record I’ve found of any slaves, I have his exact will. He immigrated in 1752.
In another branch, the Reid family goes way back to Scotland/Ireland. They go from PA to VA to KY to southern Indiana over the generations. One of them served in the Revolutionary war & is states that on his headstone. He fought in many battles including the siege of Charleston. We can join DAR any time we want.

ancestor Peter Smith (through Mary Reid Agnew)

June 24, 2012

My 3rd great-grandfather back through my Grandma Mary Agnew — Peter Smith b.1793 in KY, d.1849 in Bedford– worked for the newspaper in Bedford, IN.

He also bought 80 acres from Pres. Andrew Jackson in 1831 near Crawfordsville.

HIS FATHER, George Michael Smith Jr of Rowan County, NC, owned 8 slaves in 1820. By 1830, in KY, they have no slaves & seem to remain without them the rest of their lives. George Michael’s wife Elizabeth is buried in Tateville Baptist Church cemetary, Pulaski County, KY, just west of Corbin KY, near Daniel Boone National Forest off Hwy 75, down Hwy 27S. He reportedly operated a ferry on the treacherous Cumberland river near Burnside, KY (in one report in the info. under Geo.Michael Sr.).
The Father of George Michael Smith — whose name is ALSO George Michael Smith, is the most interesting! He served in the Revolutionary war; became a justice of Rowan County court; operated a mill; owned at one time 400 acres; and was an all-around big shot of the community.
story on ancestry.com:
George Sr’s father, Peter Schmitt/Smythe/Smith came to America from Bavaria in Europe.
George was in the local militia . At one time Peter, along with George and his fellow townsmen, were sent out to protect the town from the Indians during the Revoluntionary War.
George Sr. was a Judge of the Peace in Salisbury, No. Carolina where he lived on 400 acres.
George Jr. moved to KY where he ran a Ferry called “Smith’s Ferry” on the Cumberland River in Pulaski County. He lived on Smith’s Shoal. George Jr. died in 1841 and is buried on the homestead.
One of George Jr. sons , Martin Smith, moved to Indiana where he lived, married Patsy Tuggle and had many children.
One of his sons, Abraham Kern Smith married Margaret Green and had many children. One of his sons, Elmer Smith moved to Texas in 1888 along with Abraham.
(In our family, one of his sons, PETER SMITH, also moved to INDIANA and lived his life there in southern Indiana near Bedford.)
George Sr and his wife are buried in the Smith Cemetery just a few miles outside Salisbury, North Carolina.
his war record:According to:  Abstract of North Carolina Continental Line SoldiersRevelutionary War Rolls M246-46 NARA Records

In 1775, George Michael Smith served in the Revolutionary War as a private in Dixons Company of the 1st Regiment of North Carolina. He enlisted October 6, 1777 for three years. He was wounded and promoted to Sargeant in November, 1778. In contemporary records he is called “Colonel”, probably a colonel of the Militia.

Peter Smith Schmidt (1720 – 1769)

is your 6th great grandfather
Son of Peter Smith
Son of George Michael
Son of George Michael
Daughter of Peter
Son of Nancy Jane
Daughter of Charles S.
Son of Mary Frances