Family Tales and Legends.

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El Matador

Striker
Following on from the occupation thread and inspired by Dark Traveller it seems quite a few people have family members who have become legends in their family for both good and bad reasons. Memories of these "characters" have been passed down in family lore either as legends or leg ends for being heroes or knackers.
Do you have any tales about your family characters ?
 


My GG Uncle U.S Marshal, Virginia City,Nevada

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Sometime in the early 1880’s; John Wadge was appointed town marshal. The town marshal’s duties included collecting license fees from those doing business within the town. The license fees were based on gross receipts for the business, and the average business paid between fifteen and twenty five dollars a month. The marshal made the evening rounds, was responsible for the supervision of the police officers, and enforced the ordinances as published.

The town marshal’s pay was one hundred dollars a month, from the city payroll. According to town ordinances, incentives were offered to keep things quiet (and as a revenue source). A monetary commission was paid to officers who collected fines from those cited.
 
My GG Uncle U.S Marshal, Virginia City,Nevada

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Sometime in the early 1880’s; John Wadge was appointed town marshal. The town marshal’s duties included collecting license fees from those doing business within the town. The license fees were based on gross receipts for the business, and the average business paid between fifteen and twenty five dollars a month. The marshal made the evening rounds, was responsible for the supervision of the police officers, and enforced the ordinances as published.

The town marshal’s pay was one hundred dollars a month, from the city payroll. According to town ordinances, incentives were offered to keep things quiet (and as a revenue source). A monetary commission was paid to officers who collected fines from those cited.

Fascinating story mate.

I have a slight connection to America.

As related to me by my grandmother my gg grandparents owned a small farm in Ireland at the time of the potato famine. They sold up and emigrated to America via a ship from Liverpool that I've traced them back to. They couldn't settle in Philadelphia but gave birth to their daughter a few years before the Civil War began.

They came back to the British Isles with my young great grandmother but instead of Ireland came to the North East like many had done during the famine.

Must have been some journey for my great grandmother. It took 3 weeks to cross the Atlantic and below decks for passengers were more like sardine cans. You couldn't even stand up in them and they were only rarely allowed on deck.

Expect her eyes were wide when she finally came down the gangplank to a bright new world.

Sorry mate. It completely passed me by. :oops::oops:

Maybe some kind mod could merge the threads.
 
my old man was a guard at the king david hotel , during the palestine conflict, and left just after the King of Jordan, when the hotel was blown to bits by a bomb. :eek:

july 27th , 1946.
 
Stan Anderson failed to convince SAFC to sign me dad.
They grew up playing on the same teams up to county level and on the day Anderson was approached by our scouts he put a word in for me dad but they didn't want a left full back. Spurs offered him terms but he was a colliery lad and the big smoke frightened the hell out of him.
 
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