LOVETTSVILLE’S FOUNDING by John P. Flannery

Tom Bullock, President, Lovettsville Historical Society

Tom Bullock, the President of the Lovettsville Historical Society, told the story of Lovettsville’s founding this past Sunday at the St. James Church.

It was ironic that the stained glass windows in the Church bore many of the family names of the early tenants and landowners in Lovettsville.

But that’s not how it was founded.

Before George William Fairfax and John Colville could lease or transfer any land that became Lovettsville, there was the problem of hostile Indians.

It was clear there would be no settlements in Virginia unless the hostile Indian tribes were pacified. 

Virginia Governor Alexander Spotswood made an agreement with the Iroquois and the Virginia Tributary Indians in 1722 not to cross the Potomac River or the Blue Ridge in the Treaty of Albany.  

That cleared the way for settlement.

In 1740 George William Fairfax, a friend and mentor to George Washington, and John Colville bought up most of the land grants in the area.  

Fairfax held 46,000 acres which included all the territory on the Potomac River lying Between Catoctin Creek and the Shenandoah River; Colville held 16,000 acres along the other side of the Catoctin Creek.

They subdivided these holdings into smaller tracts that ranged in size from 150 to 300 Acres.

These tracts of land were run like manors in which settlers could lease the land for a period of three lives within two generations but were not permitted to purchase the lands or hold title to them.

Germans moved from Maryland across the Potomac River and were squatting on these lands.

Tom circulated copies of an indenture, to lease land, dated 1768, to those who came to hear his presentation.  

Indenture lease, dated 1768, renting 150 Acres by George William Fairfax to Samuel Smith

It was a lease in what is now Lovettsville from George William Fairfax to Samuel Smith, his wife and children.  

It is written in the most marvelous calligraphic hand, and provides that the person renting 150 acres of land, on the north side of modern-day Broadway, may not take stone or lumber from the land, that they must build a house and a barn and plant fruit trees, pear and apple, that produce 9 pounds a year, but allowing them to substitute fruit with grain or corn, and all produce had to be transported to Georgetown to market.  

Like the biblical passages of begetting, Tom explained, there then followed a series of lease transfers, from Fairfax’s daughter, Sarah, who leased to Isaac Richey (in 1793), who then leased to Michael Shaver (in 1804) and then to David Lovett (in 1812).

Lovett was soon able to buy the land, instead of leasing it.

In 1820, David Lovett subdivided his property into quarter-acre “city lots.”  Because it was a building boom, instead of Lovettsville, the town was called Newtown.  In 1828, the town was renamed  Lovettsville.  In 1852 the Turnpike came through town, two poles wide, about 40 feet wide.  In town, there was a saddle shop, undertaker, blacksmiths, dry goods, farm equipment store, leather works, bakery, cobbler, doctors, a hotel, and ads for all these businesses.  It was a bustling community.

There was parallel development on the other side of Broad Street by land leased and sold by Fairfax’s counterpart, Colville.

Tom reviewed carefully the adjoining parcels on both sides of Broadway and pictures when available, then and now.

There were questions from the audience asking where one parcel or another in the present day fit into the Town’s history, and Tom fielded all the questions.

At one point in his presentation, Tom admitted he was concerned the evening before that he might not be able to project his findings on a screen because his wife, Mary Beth, and he just couldn’t get the projector to project any light.  Then he found the problem, a stink bug was blocking the light.  By comparison, Tom was quite illuminating.

A PROMISE KEPT TO NEGLECTED HORSES by John P. Flannery

Sahara, a Palomino mare, recently rescued from neglect, now recovering

            Robert Frost spoke of how his “little horse” must have thought it queer that he “stop[ped] without a farmhouse near” when he had “promises to keep .. before I sleep.”

            Sahara, a Palomino mare, with a young foal was abused and neglected, starved by her absentee owner in Gold Vein, Virginia, and thus bony as could be, down 400 pounds.  The owner of the farm in Gold Vein is reportedly being prosecuted for abuse and neglect of Sahara and as many as 17 other horses.  They were all in a pasture and the stallion was fed and fat but the other horses including Sahara had no access to feed.  

            Cheryl Rogers and her Mom, Pat, have saved hundreds of horses over the years from neglect and abuse, and found them homes.

            “We agreed to take on four mares and their four foals, eight horses this past week,” Cheryl said during the barn tour last Saturday, “and that’s a lot to do, but that’s what we do here at the Equine Rescue League.”

            The Rogers’ farm, near Lovettsville, is aptly called “Promise Kept” – and the promise is to rescue these horses, and, like Frost, Cheryl, and Pat, with the critical help of their 40 volunteers are not resting until they’ve done all they can, and they have nursed and fixed the injured horses, and found them good homes; incidentally, they’ve been keeping this promise for 23 years.

            Despite the fact that the mare Sahara was starving, had almost no sustenance herself as reflected by her ribs and bare hip bones pushing through her skin when she was found, she nursed her foal, kept the filly alive.

            “Sahara” might rightly have been called oasis, given her motherly heroism, and she had no name until transported and reborn at the Rescue League; Sahara’s filly has been named Dolce by volunteers, Allison Sowell and Kendra McGahan.  It’s amazing that the other three mares, despite their own starvation, did the same and nursed their foals as well.

Sahara with her foal, Dolce

            Mahatma Ghandi said, “The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated.”  If the League were the nation’s standard we could claim progress, but, when there is such abuse, our moral progress is at risk.

 

            Cheryl galloped horses for Firestone, and ran their hunter barn, but before that, Cheryl said, “I went to school for 14 years to learn how to take care of horses; that’s my purpose in life.”  When her Mom first started this shelter, Pat said, “Cheryl told me, ‘I’m with you all the way, Mom.”   Asked about her husband, Bob Saulnier, she said, “he’s philosophically supportive, but physically terrified of horses.”  Bob said, “I’ll walk George,” an 8 hand mini pony.  Of course, Bob and his brother, Tom, worked all day long that day of the farm tour, when, Tom said, “we had more than 200 people visit us today.”

            Cheryl walked over to Ted, a Welsh cross, on the other side of a gate, one of the Rescue League’s saves, and gave him some feed; he wouldn’t have been there had Ted’s former owner done that.

            “What we need,” said Cheryl, “are funds, volunteers, and homes for these horses.  That’s what we need.  That’s what we ask our friends and neighbors to do and to give.”

Cheryl feeds Ted, a Welsh Cross, and a rescue

(For more information and donations, visit the League’s web site – http://www.equinerescueleague.org/donations.htm)

Warrior Women Fighting for Life by John P. Flannery

Michelle Batt and Nicole, fighting breast cancer

            

             The courage to be told you may die, to fight cancer, to submit to aggressive therapies, and multiple surgeries and reconstructions, to endure the terror and the fear that your efforts may fail, to risk death therefore, always uncertain the procedures will work, to live, and to tell others what you’ve learned, to warn them, so that they may avoid cancer and live, that’s a warrior and, as it’s about breast cancer, it’s about women warriors.

            Michelle Batt is such a warrior.  Her story is not for the weak of heart.  But it signifies one of two significant ways women may be at risk of breast cancer.  She couldn’t have done anything to avoid her risk.  She was born with a genetic mutation that, after many replications, dividing without normal controls, can prompt an abnormal growth, a tumor – and it may be malignant, meaning cancerous.  There is a genetic blood test to detect the mutation’s presence but many don’t know to take the test.  Michelle jokes, “I’m a mutant – and I know it.”  

There are two kinds of inherited harmful mutations, the BRCA1 gene or BRCA2 gene.  A woman who has either gene has an 85% lifetime risk as compared to 12% for the average woman of developing breast cancer, and about a 50-50 chance of ovarian cancer.  Worse, it strikes women in their late 30s and 40s – if they have this mutated gene.  Michelle had the BRCA2 gene.

If you have this gene, Michelle says, you have to review the implications up and down your family tree – as a precaution.

Michelle’s father, Edward, and sister, Rose, both had cancers, her father lung cancer, and her sister breast cancer.  “That’s how it started,” Michelle said, “each raced the other to have their surgeries first.”  

“They had missed the cancer on Rose’s mammogram,” Michelle said, “Rose found it herself, at 45, then found she had cancer in both breasts, and she caught it late.”  

After the surgery, “we were high-fiving” but, Michelle said, “3 months later for my sister and 5 months after my father’s surgery, both had metastasized cancers.”

“We went to get genetic testing, my sister Rose and I,” Michelle said, “and found she carried the BRCA2 mutation, and I had my test.  I had it too.  It didn’t take me long to have the surgery. It was more a matter of fear – running toward it.”  

She lost her father and sister but has survived herself because of them.  

Michelle said, “I’m so glad that Angelina Jolie has spoken out about her BRACA1 mutation, it’s made a big difference for the better; it’s the same decision I had to make.“ (The Jolie op-ed appeared in the New York Times: http://www.nytimes.com/2013/05/14/opinion/my-medical-choice.html?_r=0 )

Nicole has another side of the breast cancer story.  (Nicole preferred some privacy, so we have withheld her family name and any picture of her face).  Nicole had no mutation in her family history.  Nicole was a “workaholic, stressed at work,” she said, and her supervisor kept after her to see her doctor.  “My boss made me go,” said Nicole.  “It was good I went. I was 39 at the time when diagnosed with breast cancer, on May 1^st, of this year.  My gynecologist found the lump in a normal exam.  That’s why you should go regularly.  My doctor said, if I had gone 6 months later, we’d be having a different conversation.”  

Both Michelle and Nicole emphasized that younger women with denser breast tissue may, for that reason, conceal the malignant growths they may have.  Nicole said, “3-D mammograms show what 2-D mammograms miss.  So we encourage woman of all ages to make these visits and to pay the extra or get the grant monies that will pay for a 3-D.  RIA Associates will discount a 3-D mammogram for the price of a 2-D mammogram to help fight this disease (http://www.riassociates.com/files/Tomosynthesis.pdf ).

“In my case,” Nicole said, “they found the growth on the 3-D mammogram when it hadn’t been noticed on the other tests.”

At the end, Nicole will have had 6 surgeries. “The worst of it,” Nicole said, “was the chemotherapy, it’s like the worst flu you could have lasting a week and, just when you begin to recover, you go back for more chemo.” 

As for the best, “it’s having other women hear my story,” said Nicole, “having them taking measures to protect themselves, women who hadn’t gone in, making appointments, taking 3-D mammograms, and getting genetic tests.”  

Nicole said, “supervisors should do what mine did, they allowed others in my office to volunteer their sick time to my account, from this past May through December.  My husband took off from work to help me through my long bouts with chemotherapy, and he joked how he expected I’d choose Pam Anderson boobs as my replacement.”

Nicole is going to have a double mastectomy and plastic surgery early next year.  “I’m taking to the hospital,” Nicole said, “a t-shirt that I’m wearing on the way out of the hospital that says, ‘Yes, they’re fake; my real ones tried to kill me.’”

Michelle works with “Facing Our Risk of Cancer,” and they reach out into the community to help (www.facingourrisk.org ).  “That’s what I do now,” Michelle said, “try to help others.”

GHOST HUNTER – WALT GAVENDA by John P. Flannery

Those of us who believe in ghosts went to the Lovettsville Library this past Saturday to listen to a pro, Walt Gavenda, ghost hunter, describe how he uses high tech devices including an EMF Field Tester to detect ghosts as well as an old stand-by, dowsing rods.  Just in time for Halloween!

At the very outset, Walt said, "Ghosts are getting a bad rap on tv."  (As this correspondent is a civil rights lawyer, he had me at hello.)  Others in attendance plainly agreed; no skeptics came to hear Walt, as indicated by a unanimous show of hands.  An AP survey in 2008 found 34% of Americans believe in the existence of ghosts.  Walt assured us, that he was “going to try to give ghosts an even break.”

Walt conceded that there are ghosts that can kill. 

Walt has worked for the federal government for 48 years concerned with international relations.  but Walt said, “I’ve been interested all my life” in paranormal activity -- ever since he lived in a haunted house while attending Georgetown as an undergraduate, when locked doors opened, and no one was there, objects moved about the room, loud footsteps came up the stairs and no one was to be found.

If you rap on a table, that’s one thing, but when there’s a rapping on the table and no one is seen to have done the rapping, that’s paranormal. 

When you see birds or fish turn suddenly, without cause, that’s paranormal. 

It’s caused by a disembodied soul. 

Walt says paranormal is “a sensory phenomenon witnessed by credible witnesses with no reasonable explanation.  It’s fossils in time.”

By way of example, he said there are accounts of hearing a Railroad train where there are no tracks, where no train has been for years. 

Another is a Williamsburg death wagon hauling the condemned to hangings, and the noise of wagons is heard today. 

Sheridan’s ride to the Battle of Cedar Creek on October 19, 1864 to rally his troops against Confederate soldiers; and in recent days, Yankee tunes were heard on that battle field.

Walt says there are intelligent residual hauntings that allow communications with “what is left behind,” as a result of what he calls, “post mortem traumatic stress disorder.” 

This is not when the person dies a “good death,” meaning in a bed at home surrounded by comforting family and friends. 

Rather, it is when the person dies a grim and grisly death as at Picketts’ charge in Pennsylvania when 12,500 Confederate soldiers advanced over open fields for three-quarters of a mile and half of them were cut down in that three-day battle by heavy Union artillery and rifle fire. 

Not only how someone dies prompts these residuals we call ghosts but how he suffered in a hospital or was buried wrongly or not at all.  These “residuals” can be found at abandoned prisons, abandoned hospitals haunted by staff, disaster sites, but particularly at battle fields.

These residual forms, Walt insists, have energy left that may be measured signifying their presence.  Thus his EMF device and his dowsing rods. 

One nearby good example is the battlefield at Balls Bluff where many Union Troops died shot in the waters of the Potomac trying to escape a terrible death, their bodies looted afterwards, and, when finally buried, it was years later and only the recovered parts of their bodies. 

At Balls Bluff, when Walt was investigating paranormal activity, this wild and desolate and isolated place, he heard the volleys and shots from that old battle in 1861 for the duration of 30 seconds one day. 

Another day, the leaves of an entire tree just dropped on him – all at once. 

One day, he heard his name, “Walt,” called out; “not a nice feeling,” Walt said.

An associate of his, a skeptic, who walked down to the river where the drowning occurred, heard, “this is no place for a lady.”

Pix they took at the site were fogged.

One young man, accompanying another visit, went beserk, running into trees, and said afterwards, “they were younger than me, and they are all dead.”

Walt finally “talked” with John Reynolds by what his dowsers indicated in response to his several questions. 

John was with the California Brigade, killed by the river, trying to swim, shot in the water by the Confederates, the only one in his company who got killed, he was tired, had less energy to communicate with Walt, but led Walt to tombstone grave site 22, on ground considered sacred to the Indians who earlier occupied this space.

Walt says we appear to these “ghosts” as a white mist.

Of course, many don’t believe in ghosts.  How about you?