My paternal grandfather was clever.
I think I inherited it from him.
Almost 100 years ago, my grandfather decided he no longer wanted anything to do with the farm life he had in South Carolina. He decided he would walk out on his wife and children, his parents and siblings and all that he knew and start life over.
He was born William McGill in Williamsburg County, South Carolina on May 26, 1898. I affectionately refer to him as Willie McGill.
He was the oldest son of Werry/Weary McGill and Aileen Ford McGill.
He died Henry Scott at Martin Army Hospital in Fort Benning, Georgia on October 20, 1980.
I began my genealogical journey with him and a maternal great-great grandmother. Both intrigued me. He eluded me for years.
When I started, he was Sgt. (Retired) Henry Scott. Sarge. Papa Scott. A very quiet man who would play the harmonica, drink brown liquor and will break out marching and calling cadence. He had a very gruff voice, a stern look and he loved my brother and I in his own way.
He died before I started my 4th grade family history project, so I relied on his wife, my step-grandmother, to provide clues to help me.
She told me his father’s name was Harry Scott and that my grandfather was from South Carolina. She didn’t know his mother’s name. I was fascinated that he came from a different state than me and thought that was interesting enough.
Fast forward twelve years. I pick my family research back up and commit to it very seriously. I join genealogy groups and conferred with the pioneers of Afrigeneas. I make trips to courthouses and discover the State Archives and the National Archives in Atlanta, Georgia.
Since my grandfather died in Ft. Benning’s Martin Army hospital, I knew to go to the Chattahoochee County courthouse and to get a copy of his death certificate. What I found was what I heard from my step-grandmother — Harry Scott was listed as father but mother was listed as unknown.
I put out feelers to genealogy list serves looking for Henry Scott, son of Harry Scott born May 1898 in Andrews, South Carolina.
Needless to say, I couldn’t find him.
I got a membership to Ancestry and learned that I could request my grandfather’s Social Security Application record, so, I did.
What I got back was one of many puzzle pieces that began to make up who he was. This record listed his father’s name as Weary Scott and mother as Ailene Ford! Now I had the beginnings of his family and gained a set of great-grandparents.
It was a few years earlier that I found out his wife was not my biological grandmother. When she died and was not buried next to him, I wondered why. I was told my biological grandmother was buried next to him and it was her wish to not disturb that arrangement.
So, I went to the Main Post cemetery on Ft. Benning and saw her name. This put me on the path of finding out who my biological grandmother was. Finding this information helped my research and I went looking for a marriage record. I naturally searched the Muscogee County courthouse because he lived in the county from the time he was stationed at Ft. Benning until he died. But I did not find a record.
I then searched Chattahoochee County since he was a soldier. I figured maybe they married on Post. But, I found nothing.
Before leaving Chattahoochee County, I made my way to the Main Post cemetery office and obtained a copy of his burial record. This set off a chain of events that my grandfather did not want to be discovered.
I got his RA number (Regular Army number or service number) off that record and used it to get his military service record. I received a standard-sized envelope which listed his basic information, education and medals. Surely there had to be more!
So, I requested a more extensive record search and got a 2-inch thick 8×11 envelope in return!
In this envelope was the marriage record of he and my biological grandmother and medical records. I found out that he and my grandmother married in 1941 across the Chattahoochee River in Phenix City, Alabama. I probably would have never figured that out.
His medical record was at first, a disappointment to me. Until I took the time to read it. In these medical records, he listed his Mother and siblings. He listed his Mother’s name as Ailene McGill. At that time, I thought perhaps, his father had passed and Mom remarried since his father was not listed in any of the documents.
Armed with this information, I went back to the Archives and looked for any McGill’s in the Census. It was in the 1900 Census that I saw a 2-year old William McGill living with his parents Werry (listed incorrectly as Waring in the census record) and Ailene. I was stunned! He was NOT Henry Scott, but William McGill!
It was then I decided I was going to make a trip to his hometown and literally ask anyone I met if they knew my new-found great grandparents.
As I prepared for my trip, my maternal grandmother lost her brother unexpectedly. She was distraught as we all were and I cancelled my trip.
I would go through the US Census records and put together more pieces of the puzzle. The trail went cold in the 1920 census. But, I learned from my some amazing people who lived in or were from the area my grandfather was from, that in 1928, it seemed that overnight, Andrews lost thousands of people.
It was a railroad town and the railroad which employed people in the town decided to leave Andrews. My grandfather enlisted in the US Army in 1928. He would enlist in Jacksonville, Florida under his new identity — Henry Scott.
In 2002, the 1930 Census came out and I found him living in the barracks on Ft. Benning — as Henry Scott.
I thought the worst. Why did he change his name?! I can understand leaving Andrews because of the economic situation, but why the change in identity? Why did he list his father’s name incorrectly on several documents? Why did he not list his mother on documents? Was he running from something?
It would not be until November 2006 when I would find a link to my McGill family.
While doing some research, I put a query out on the boards. I gave information about my grandfather such has his original name, where he was from, his parents
I got a response back! I got a response from a man named Joe Dunmore who lived in New York. He responded to me saying I should call his sister “Bet” in Andrews. I called her and we talked and we talked. She knew so much about my grandfather and his parents and siblings. She was a granddaughter of Werry McGill and lived with him and Ailene. But that was not all! My grandfather had a wife and three children he walked away from in 1928. The children, my uncle and aunts, were still alive!
We arranged to meet in Andrews after Christmas.
When my husband and children arrived in Andrews, I was floored. My family, over 30 of them, greeted me with signs and and hugs! I felt so at home. I met my aunts Mary and Lula. It was beautiful.
I brought with me, a picture of my grandfather in uniform. My Aunt Mary also brought a picture of him in uniform. I was speechless!
I learned that Willie McGill decided he wasn’t going to farm any more and as he walked away from his children, with his son, my Uncle Carl, running behind him. My grandfather told him that where he was going, Carl could not go. And he left.
I was told he would send them money and even visit every now and then, but after a while, they never heard from him again.
I never got to meet my Uncle Carl, but I did meet his daughter. He died that summer.
The following year, my Aunt Lula passed away. I attended her funeral and it was bittersweet to meet so many more of my family members. I was sad that on such an occasion we had to meet and I was sad I could not spend more time getting to know my Aunt Lula and I was sad that I missed so many years knowing my McGill family.
Last October, the remaining child of my grandfather passed away. My Aunt Mary was very, very kind to me. In a lot of ways, our lives paralleled. She longed to know what happened to her father and was disappointed that he was so close but she never got to meet him again. She needed that closure.
I felt the same with my own father, my grandfather’s youngest child. He did the same to my brother and I, and I always wonder “what if”.
William McGill/Henry Scott was an interesting man. He was clever, but I like to think I was more clever.
What’s in a name? More than you think!