Friday, May 27, 2011

How I Got Into An "Oily" Business

The Wallace Memorial Room is located on the first floor of the Chesapeake Central Library. It houses a collection of materials for use in historical and genealogical research. It does not have a formal research service in place, but is staffed by volunteers from the Norfolk County Historical Society of Chesapeake.

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Monday - Thursday 9 a.m. to 9 p.m.
Friday - Saturday 9 a.m. to 5 p.m.
Sunday - 1 p.m. to 5 p.m.

MAIL REFERENCE QUESTIONS TO:
Chesapeake Public Library
Wallace Memorial Room
298 Cedar Rd
Chesapeake, VA 23322
Please include a self-addressed stamped envelope with your request.

A personal story by one of our staff members regarding genealogy and her family’s search is shared below:


How I Got Into An “Oily” Business
By Alice Marie HUMPHREY Dyer

It all started when my Uncle Winston Humphrey in Utah called my father in New Mexico and screamed into the phone, “Earl, we’re rich, RICH, Rich!”

What follows, is my attempt to record for posterity the events that developed from that phone call.  (Posterity = Future generations taken collectively; All of one’s descendants.)

For, you see, it is my family’s CONCERN with its descendants and with its progenitors which is the root of this story.

My Uncle Winston and my mother, Mary (his sister-in-law), and my Uncle Alvin Russell (my mother’s brother ---who, alas, does not come into THIS particular tale) have all, over the years, taken a keen interest in the subject of GENEALOGY.

Although some people become involved in this field because they want to prove (or improve) their pedigrees – my mother and uncles take DELIGHT in digging up information, that was better left buried, on the weird and unsavory peculiarities of our clan.  Luckily for them, our ancestors have been pretty obliging in this respect.

It was while in the middle of shaking his family tree that my Uncle Winston came across a newspaper article that said, “MISSING LINK TO SPINDLETOP FORTUNE FOUND”, and the name  of this “missing link”?---William Humphrey!  Now, since my uncle’s father (also my father’s father – my paternal grandfather) was named William Humphrey, and since we were all born in a part of East Texas where “Spindletop” is well known, my uncle’s interest was immediately grabbed!

After reading this newspaper article several times, my uncle placed a long distance call to the “Humphrey Heirs Association” to see if he could find out any more information (chiefly, if we were related and how much money we were getting if we were).  What they told him was that there were already 7,500 OTHER Humphrey’s asking the same questions ---but, no matter.

What the newspaper article stated was this:  That in 1901, in southeast Texas, a man named Pelham Humphrey was killed in a bar room brawl.  After Pelham died, his oil well hit a gusher, but, ALAS---he had never married and left no heirs.

So, the oil company invested the money, put it into an account, and there it has sat for over eighty years drawing interest.  Meanwhile, the lawyers for the oil company have been diligently searching for a Humphrey heir to give Pelham’s fortune to.

Think of it!  An oil company wanting to give away TWO HUNDRED BILLION DOLLARS!  Sounds too good to be true, doesn’t it?  (If you say “Yes”, then you are obviously NOT a Humphrey – and we don’t have to share any of our money with you!)

Throwing this paper down, my Uncle Winston frantically ran his finger over his LDS approved genealogy chart and ----THERE IT WAS---- William Johnson Humphrey, Pelham’s long lost brother.  Let’s see, William Johnson Humphrey begot George Hezekiah Humphrey, and George Hezekiah Humphrey begot William Jepthane Humphrey ---“THERE’S DADDY! cried my uncle!  And William Jepthane Humphrey begot both Earl Wright Humphrey (my father) and Winston Bruin Humphrey (my uncle), not to mention Mary Ethel Humphrey (Hopkins) - my aunt and their sister!

EUREKA!  “The whole family is rich and ---best of all---most of them are DEAD!”
It was, at this point, that my father received his phone call.
-----
I must mention that, heretofore, whenever my mother or uncles became engaged in a discussion of lineage, my father turned to them his deaf ear, and would mutter such things as “Genealogy %#$@!”

In fact, he had ridiculed my mother by bringing up the touchy point of how her Aunt Virgie was born with webbed feet --- thereby proving that the Russell’s (her relations) were not descended from apes like the rest of us humans, but from DUCKS  ---which also explained why all the Russell’s were short, fat, and waddled when they walked.

However, when my father learned that in digging through his family’s past, he was apt to be digging for GOLD – he became a bonafide prospector.
---
Since my mother, THE LEVEL-HEAD, was away on a business trip at this time, my father seized the opportunity and drove to my uncle’s house with their mother (my Granny).  Along the way [from New Mexico to Utah] figuring their luck had changed, they stopped in Wendover, Nevada for a little serious gambling at the slot machines.

When they got to my uncle’s house, the three of them, along with my cousin Bruin (who is not a Humphrey, but his mother – my Aunt Mary Ethel – is), sat down at the kitchen table and they figured furiously on the backs of old envelopes and on folded paper napkins.  What they concluded was this:
    
That IF all the 7,500 Humphreys that were in the Humphrey Heirs Association, plus another 500 Humphreys that they “might not know about yet” (thereby rounding the figure off to 8,000 – easier to divide) were ENTITLED to the 200 Billion Dollar fortune; that their share, after taxes, would come to 2.5 million dollars apiece!

My father magnanimously declared then and there that of his 2-1/2 million, he was going to give one million to his oldest daughter, Marie (that’s me!) and one million to his baby girl, Susan (my sister) and would keep the half-million for himself.  “Shoot”, he said, “I can live on half a million.”

The rest of the visit with my Uncle Winston was spent in discussing what each would buy with his portion of the family fortune.

Knowing that my mother was still unaware of what was taking place, my father and Granny then hot-footed it to my sister’s house (in nearby Montana) to spread the good news.

My sister has inherited several good Humphrey genes herself, and when she heard that some of the 7,500 Humphreys laying claim to the money spelled their name with an “I E S” on the end, she threw up her hands and declared, “Well, all those “I E S’s” can go to blazes, they’re not getting any!”

Shortly after my father and Granny got back home to New Mexico, my mother came in from her business trip.  She heard this tale, and promptly poured the oil of logic upon the churning waters that they had stirred up.

Now, I live in Virginia – and THIS is where I came into the picture.

My mother called me on the phone to tell me about her business trip, and during the course of the conversation she casually asked, “Well, did you hear about the Humphrey Inheritance?”  When I said, “No”, she proceeded to tell me about it in a calm, orderly fashion.

I knew that my father was nearby, because I could hear him in the background correcting my mother on the finer points of the story.  He interrupted her about seven times, so finally in disgust, my mother did what she should have done in the first place – she handed the phone to my father.

He proceeded to re-tell the whole story, and there was a DIFFERENCE in the telling.  While listening to my mother, this was just another amusing and interesting chapter in the family history.  It was as though I was viewing this epic from some higher, loftier plane – some place where I could see the antics of my tribe, love them, and still laugh at their folly.

BUT, when my father got on the phone the story became a saga!  I could SEE my father’s eyes mist, FEEL his heart pumping, and HEAR the intake of breath, as he told the tragic tale of poor Uncle Pelham – a lonely old bachelor who had worked hard all his life, “shot by mistake” in a bar room where he had gone to seek solace from his worries ---dying alone, never knowing that he had made his fortune.

By the time my father finished talking, something strange had happened to me.   MY eyes were misty, MY heart was pumping, ---and I was sucking wind!

It had previously been assumed (by the members of my family, at least) that when my chromosomes were split, the LEVEL-HEADED Russell genes were dominant.  I can only attribute my actions to a recessive “flighty” Humphrey gene that was lurking inside.

I was still in a trancelike state when I hung up the phone.  I then calmly walked into the living room and turned to my husband and said, “John, we’re rich, RICH, RICH!”
---
It took John several minutes to get anything coherent out of me, but when I finally began to blurt out the story, he kept laughing and interrupting me saying such things as  “Oh, come on!” and “Where did you hear that %$#!” and “That CAN’T be right!”  All the while he was exchanging little “knowing” looks with our fourteen-year-old nephew, Jonathan McCracken, who was visiting.  It was most annoying!

Yes, it was plain that John didn’t believe that he was living with an heiress, but I think that little Jonathan had doubts.  I know this because when I got ready to take him home later, he got my coat for me, held the door, and flashed me a smile so big I could see his tonsils.

The next day I had a hard time at work.  Several times I found my mind wandering.

Now, I don’t know for sure, but I think John’s mind was wandering a little too, because that night at home he made me go over the whole story again – several times – just so he could “get the facts all straight” in his mind.  Not only was he NOT laughing anymore, he was also beginning to join me in little “discussions”.  See example below:
    
ALICE MARIE – “What if it’s true and I get about $10,000? Wouldn’t that be nice?
JOHN – “Yes, it would.”
ALICE MARIE – “I’d give you half.”
JOHN – “Thank you.”
--------long pause------
JOHN – “Well, if it’s $10,000 or less you can have it all.  You don’t have to give me any.”
ALICE  MARIE – Why? Don’t you like money?”
JOHN – “Yes, but $10,000 is such a piddling amount, it’s not worth messing with.”

(This last statement comes from a man who does most of his shopping at Goodwill and who thinks “eating out” means a trip through the drive-up window of Taco Bell.)

More conversation:

ALICE MARIE – “Well, I dreamed last night that what I actually got was $16,000.”
                                 I then proceed to list all the things I want to buy with that money.
JOHN – “That sounds good, but you won’t have enough money to do all that. You’ll only have $8,000 because you said you’d give me half.”
ALICE MARIE – “Wait a minute.  You said that if it was less than $10,000 you didn’t want it.  $8,000 is less than $10,000.”
JOHN – “Yes, BUT you said $16,000.  Half of $16,000 is $8,000.”
---
John is normally a pretty nice guy anyway, but over the next couple of days, whenever he said or did anything nice, I would accuse him “You just want my money!”  He would then say, “Alice, for gosh sakes, you don’t HAVE any money!”  I would reply to that by calling him “Pauper!” – and he would call me “Queenie!”   Things were going downhill fast.

So, later that night, we called my parents so that John could hear for himself exactly what my parents had told me.  (I hoped he would THEN show me the proper respect!)

But, during the phone call it became apparent that my father was having trouble with insubordination at his house too!  At one point, we could clearly hear my Granny saying in the background, “Well, when we get our money….”   My father interrupted her with “Mama, where do you get this WE stuff?  You’re not a Humphrey! You were only married to one!”

“Oh, no!”, said John, and then he and my mother got tickled and started laughing.  John then sealed his fate by blabbing to my mother that I had been so busy counting my “money” that I had forgotten to make out checks for both the house payment and the truck payment until he reminded me.  My mother cackled and then instructed John not to “let her buy anything on credit!” Ha! Ha! Ha! ---but I didn’t laugh.

The next several weeks at our house were kind of hectic!  John spent his lunch hours at the downtown library in their genealogy department and he found out that we Humphreys named a large percentage of our sons William, thereby making it difficult to find out if OUR William was the right one.  I spent most of my time on the telephone.  I talked to relatives I hadn’t spoken with in years.  The only thing I learned was that that ALL the Humphreys were doing the same thing! 

When my Uncle Winston called my father, you see, he then called my Aunt Mary and – as he said to me – “Telling her about money is like throwing blood on ‘Jaws’!”  My uncle called my aunt, she called my father, and he called Cousin Pauline.  My uncle called London, England and my sister called everyone!  When this mess is over, we will need a fortune just to pay the phone bills.

During all this hullabaloo, one night when our nephew Jonathan was over, he began to talk about “When I get my money…”  I interrupted him with the question as to how exactly did he think HE was getting any money?  His name wasn’t Humphrey and he wasn’t blood related.  Well, it was simple.  He was getting his half out of the half I was giving to his Uncle John (my husband).

When John heard this, he said, “Well for goodness sake Johnny, don’t you think I ought to give some of my money to [the matriarch] Great-Grandma?”  Well, Jonathan conceded that it was only fair, because if Uncle John gave half of his half that Aunt Alice Marie gave him to Great-Grandma – she was sure to give him (Jonathan) some. 

“Well, “said my John, “don’t you think she will give half of it to her daughter, your Grandma?”  “Yes”, said Jonathan.  “And”, my John continued “don’t you think that Grandma will want to give some of hers to her daughter, your mother?”  “Yes, “said Jonathan, “and then my mother can give me half of hers!”

He thought a minute, and then grabbed a piece of paper and began to figure.  In a little while he cried out, “Wait a minute!  If Alice’s father gives her a million dollars and she gives half of  that to Uncle John, then he only gets one-fourth!

And…..if Uncle John gives half of his one-fourth  to Great-grandma, and she gives half to Grandma, and Grandma gives half to my Mother and my Mother gives me half of hers….Hey!  I’ll only get one hundred and twenty-eight of a million!” 
---
Probably not enough to buy a decent car!  Life is just not fair.


More LINKS on the Pelham Humphrey “Fortune”

Spindletop Scam





                          Oil Heirs Determined

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