Jonathan (John, William) Crye & Edith Ayers/Pearce/Pierce’s third
known child was Henry Clay. Now, we have found quite a bit of information
due to Norma Crye who has completed much research on this family line.
We appreciate her input on Henry Clay Crye and give credit to her for the
following information. (See Issue 4 Vol 7 for information on children
1 & 2)
The third child of Henry Clay Crye and Martha is Cordia. She was
born in Bradley Co. TN, and married Watt Stringer in 1898 in Texas.
The 1900 Navarro Co. TX census list a son, Watt, born in 1900. I
was unable to locate them again in the next 30 years. Coleman Co.,
TX cemetery directory list a Cordia Cry Stringer Van Ness being born in
1880 and dying in 1957. Cordie’s brother Eugene G. Crye had a nephew
living with him in the 1930 Coleman, Co., TX census named Lonnie Van Ness.
He was 13 at that time, making him born about 1917. Apparently Wat
Stringer died about 1915, or they divorced about that time and Cordie married
an Unknown Van Ness. Lonnie died in 1990, Tom Green County TX.
Henry Clay Crye and Martha’s fourth child was AdaWatt Crye. Census
records state he was born after their arrival in Texas. Ada Watt
married Atha Armenta Taylor in 1909 in Texas
AdaWatt and his family were found in the 1910 Runnels Co., TX census,
but not again in the 1920 or 1930. The area is so vast there that
I am sure they were simply overlooked in the counting of citizens.
According to records received from Norma Beaty Crye, Adawatt and AAA
Taylor had nine children.
Bertha Etheldra m/ Jack Cary Underwood
Delmer Gordon m/ Ruth Corinne Ward
John Wesley m/ Edora Leila Barnett
Altha Beatrice m/ Jack Clark Harper
Era Fay m/ Harold Glyn Allen
Robert Earl m/ Norma Mae Beaty (informant)
Marvin Leon m/ Lillian Cordelia Schofield
Albert Bailey never married
Bula Mae died about 10 days old.
The 1910 census of Runnels Co. TX list: A. W. Crye, married
once, age 27, married to Alice age 20, married once with one live birth
and one child alive; Rutha age 2 months. Martha, A.W.’s mother, is
living with them. She list that she is a widow and has birthed 9
children and 2 are alive.
AAA Taylor Crye died in 1943 and Adawatt Crye died in Coleman Co., TX
in 1954. Both are buried in the Coleman Cemetery, in Coleman, Co.,
TX
The following ‘memories’ of Robert Earl Crye, son of AdaWatt, were also
included in Norma Beaty’s manuscript. Robert Crye, dated January
1984, writes...
Times were excruciatingly difficult for the Crye family. That
was particularly true of the children. AdaWatt, having grown up most
likely under very difficult circumstances, was a hard task-master.
They were in the fields before sunrise, and darkness drove them from their
labors in the evening. Earl once said to his mother, “Mama, if it
wasn’t for nights, we never would get any rest”.
It was while they lived on the Pearce Place, about 6 or 8 miles west
of Coleman, that the Crye youngsters had a frightening experience.
There was a small stream there and Papa dug a well at the location.
One day Era and Atha were supposed to be watching Earl, and while engaged
in other interests, he disappeared. They called and looked all over
the place, but Earl didn’t answer. The girls decided that he must
have fallen in the well. Logic told them that if he was in the well,
then if they threw rocks in it, one of the rocks would hit him, and he
would cry. By this time, they too, were crying. They bombarded
the well with stones, but the only crying which broke the stillness was
their own. By this time they were in a state of hysteria; they must
go tell their mama what happened. They went to the house, trailing
tears every step of the way. Earl, in the meantime, had grown simply
bored with the whole affair and had gone to the house. When they
found him, he was fast asleep.
It was while they lived on the Pearce place, that it was his duty to
carry water to the field. He’d start out across the field and come
to a “doodle bug hole.” He would stop and stir the mound with a stick
with the invitation, “doodle bug, doodle bug, your house is on fire, come
out of the hole.” His papa, who was working the fields, would yell
impatiently, “where is that water?” That would spur Earl on for a
few minutes, remembering his errand, he’d continue on across the field.
But, he’d come to another intriguing “doodle bug house,” and would be deterred
once more. he’d finally arrive at his destination. Poor Earl!!
Papa would tan his britches and they’d “scorch” all the way to the house.
Quoting, “While we were on this same place, it was my responsibility
to drive the cows up the road to graze, and bring them back in the afternoon.
I rode an old sorrel horse, if something happened that I had to get off,
I couldn’t get back on. I’d lead her up to a fence, but when I’d
try to step on, I’d usually step over. I’d have to end up leading
her home. I must have been about 5 or 6 years old when that happened.”
“Atha and Era were always telling me Indian stories,” he said,
“and when I’d go down the road, I’d look behind every bush expecting one
to jump out and scalp me. They had this fear in me, so that I must
have been about 14 years old before I got over it. Another thing
I remember was when we were on the same place, we had cotton pickers
in the field, and there was a big white touring car at the end of the field.
I suddenly had an urge to go to the bathroom. I climbed up on the
car’s running board, and something happened that made the horn start blowing.
Dad was at the end of the field picking cotton, and he came running and
hollering thinking that I was blowing the horn. I got my pants up
just in time to get my behind blistered.”
“We had a neighbor who had a boy about my age named Orville Jarrell.
We were down at his house playing, and he cut open a twelve-gage shotgun
shell and poured the powder in a bucket. He put the cartridge in
a piece of 3/4 inch pipe and hit it with a hammer and nail and popped the
cap. When I got home, I went one better than that. I got a
pipe and clamped it in a vise. I put my shot-gun shell in that, powder
and all, and hit the cap with a nail. I woke up lying flat of my
back. The explosion backfired and blackened my face. I
remember going to the house and telling mama and ask her not to tell papa.
I heard them talking about it later. He came and looked at me, but
I don’t remember getting a whipping for that. But, I do remember
getting a whipping when the same kid and I smoked a cigarette behind the
barn. The kid went home sick. I was sick, too, and I went into
the house and got in the bed. That kid’s dad came and told papa about
us smoking back of the barn, and I got a licking for that.”
“I have a scar between my eyes. I must have thought I was a bull
fighter. We had a great big old red cow with big, long horns.
I was always pestering her, and one day she hooked me right between the
eyes.”
“I remember being with Atha when she was rattle snake bit. I watched
her throw rocks at it while Era ran to the house to get dad. He killed
the snake and had to pry it off her big toe. She almost died from
that.”
Norma Beaty Crye has written, updated, and re-written the Crye history
from her line of AdaWatt Crye. In a composition she sent to me, she
shared a few poems written by AdaWatt as early as 1943. The following
is one poem that she included.
