Prophetic Dream

Many years ago I dreamed a dream.  A very disturbing dream.  The US was at war, and random bombs and violence was happening all over America, but not everyday.  Just random things like the Boston Marathon bombing and the things in this article from September 2016.

It was one of those dreams where I was so upset that I realized I was dreaming and woke myself up. Once awake, I just somehow knew it would happen.

At the time I was renting the upstairs of an old house on one of Charleston's barrier islands, but in the dream I lived up Hwy 61 in West Ashley, and I had dogs.

As I said, years have passed.  I now find myself living with dogs where I lived in the dream, and I have watched as all the buildings in the dream have been built in real life.  All but the last few on the other side of the Crosstown.

They are in the process of building those last ones now.  

As each building goes up, I think of that dream and nearly panic at the thought of still being here when it happens.  I will retire and move away in July of this year if at all possible. Hopefully it won't happen before then.

In the dream a bomb explodes near the front of the Veteran's Hospital in downtown Charleston, SC.  Panic ensues.  

Soldiers arrive shortly after the explosion.  They raise the Ashley River drawbridge and close off the peninsular.  No one is allowed to enter or leave.  I am frantic to get across the Ashley River to my dogs, and in the dream I am considering trying to "borrow" a boat to cross the Ashley River, but then I rationalized that I would need my car to get out of the area.  I was frantic to leave, but couldn't figure out a way to get off the peninsular.  I was so frantic that I woke myself up.  

Let's hope this was just an unfortunate dream that has stayed with me for over a decade.  Let's hope that the buildings they have built that were in the dream are just a coincidence.  Let's hope that no one targets our Veteran's Hospital with a bomb. 

But most of all...I hope I get to move away before they finish those last buildings.  Let's hope....

Remembering My WWII Veteran Friend, Hasell Barton: A True Story

Yesterday was Veteran's Day.  Veteran's Day is one of the holidays I have to work, so I didn't feel much like celebrating other than acknowledging how thankful I am for our Veterans on Facebook.  This morning, however, I have time to think, and I am remembering my dear WWII Veteran friend, Hasell Barton.  May he rest in peace.

About three years after I moved to Charleston, SC in 1995, I was out one weekend listening to the live piano music in the Lobby Lounge at the Charleston Place Hotel downtown, and someone introduced me to Hasell Barton.

Seating was limited in the lounge that night and I was taking up a whole table by myself, so Hasell invited me to sit with him and his friend, Tom.  They were such good company!  We talked and talked and ended up sitting together for live music many nights over the next decade or so.

Hasell was my mother's age and full of interesting stories.  He served in the Air Force in WWII, and spent most of his World War II years in France.  I remember how much Hasell enjoyed Veterans Day. 

On Veterans Day evenings Hasell would wear his WWII Air Force uniform downtown and people would buy him free drinks all night long. They'd slap him on the back and laugh and everyone would tell war stories. Oftentimes the more colorful stories were spoken in French with a wink and a whispered "mademoiselle" or a laughing "oh là là!" towards the end of the evening, and they'd all end up singing their favorite 1940s songs as the night grew old. 

We'd be at a big table full of men and women by then.  Such fun!  I loved hanging around Hasell on Veterans Day.  You'd meet the most interesting characters. 

Hasell lived down on Queen Street near the Footlight Players Theater in one of those big beautiful historic houses with his beloved cat. He did a lot of different types of work in his lifetime, but his soul was that of an artist.  He loved to draw and paint.  Two of his framed prints hang in my house today.  I love his art.

As Hasell grew older, he'd go to listen to live music at the Best Friends Lounge in the Mills House Hotel instead of in the Lobby Lounge at Charleston Place Hotel.  The Best Friends Lounge was much closer to his house and an easier walk for him.  They kept a table right up front reserved for him every night.  Many nights I joined him there and we had the best time listening to the music and talking about old times with old friends and new.

Yes.  We all miss Hasell.  By the time he reached his 90s, his health forced him to move to North Carolina closer to family who could care for him.  He passed away in 2011.  I will always remember him as he was in the photo below.  Standing in the old and wonderful Charleston Place Hotel Lobby Lounge with a smile on his face and a song in his heart.

Rest in peace, Hasell Barton.  I just know you celebrated Veterans Day up in Heaven last night. Jusqu'à ce que nous nous reverrons.

Hasell Barton in the old Lobby Lounge at the Charleston Place Hotel - Late 1990s

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Hasell Barton Obituary

1917 - 2011

Hasell W. Barton, 93, died on Monday, January 10, 2011 at Brighton Gardens, after several years of declining health. Funeral services will be held at Holy Trinity Episcopal Church in Greensboro at 11:00 a.m. on Thursday, January 13, 2011. Lunch will follow in the Haywood Duke Room at the church. A private burial will be held on Friday, January 14 at All Saints Episcopal Church, Pawleys Island, SC.

Born in Hartwell, GA, he was the son of Dr. David J. and Harriet C. Barton. He was a graduate of Anderson Boys High School and earned a diploma in accounting from LaSalle Institute of Chicago.

Hasell served in the U.S. Army Air Corps during World War II as an ordinance officer in the 409th Bomb Group in England, France, and Belgium, attaining the rank of Captain. At war's end, he became treasurer of C.M. Guest and Sons Construction Company in Anderson, SC, where he was active in civic and church affairs, including chair of the Red Cross chapter and Deacon and president of the Men's Bible Class at First Presbyterian Church. He was also an amateur radio enthusiast.

In 1961 the Barton family moved to Greensboro, NC, where Hasell became president of Romeo Guest Associates. In 1971 Hasell formed Barton Construction Company at Pawleys Island, SC, where he joined All Saints Episcopal Church. After being widowed in 1977, he divided his time between Pawleys Island and Charleston, SC. He retired to Charleston in 1987, joining St. Phillips Episcopal Church. In Charleston he was treasurer and a member of the board of directors of the Footlight Players community theater and a member of the French Society (l'Alliance Francaise) and the Saint Cecilia Society. He was a Rotary Club Paul Harris Fellow. His lifetime love of Charleston and knowledge of Charleston history resulted in his becoming a volunteer guide for tourists. He studied watercolor painting in Charleston and in France, and became an accomplished artist. Hasell moved to Brighton Gardens Assisted Living in Greensboro in August of 2009.

Hasell was predeceased by his wife Myra Ashley Barton in 1977. He is survived by son Jon Hasell Barton, Sr. (Jan) and daughters Jane Barton Stott (Drayton) and Betsy Barton Dunn (Russ), both of Greensboro, six grandchildren, and seven great-grandchildren.

Memorials contributions may be made to St. Phillips Episcopal Church, 142 Church St, Charleston, SC 29401 or to the Guilford County Animal Shelter 4525 W. Wendover Ave., Greensboro, NC 27409. 

Remembering My Brother, Howard: A True Story

Back around 1960, when I was only five years old or so, my brother, Howard, joined the Navy. He was fresh out of high school and ready to travel and see the world.

Howard Batchelor - 1960

Me?  I wanted him to stay home.  I hated every time one of my siblings left home.  I missed them so much.

A few months later, Howard got a furlough to come home for the holidays.  He arrived very early in the morning.  I heard him come in the front door, so I quietly got up and went to see him.  We were the only two awake in the house, so we were very quiet.  It was so early that it was still dark outside.

Howard and I went straight to the kitchen in that big old rambling house, and Howard put on a pot of coffee.  Then he made eggs and toast for our breakfast.  

He asked me what I wanted to drink, and I said, "Coffee!"  He laughed and said, "Don't tell Mama," and he actually poured me a cup of coffee.   

This was my very first full cup of coffee.  It was warm and delicious with the milk and sugar Howard added.  He even let me taste his black cup of coffee, and laughed at the face I made.

Howard always made me feel grown up and very loved.  The coffee remained our little secret all these years.  Mama never knew, and the coffee certainly didn't stunt my growth or anything.  It just flavored my childhood with the knowledge that my brother loved me and wanted to please me even if it meant he might get in trouble.  

I watched him cooking and cleaning up the kitchen that morning.  He was so precise.  Everything had to be done just so.  Howard was a perfectionist.  He loved for things to be clean and shiny and perfect.

I've always wanted to be a little more like Howard than I am.

Howard used to spend hours as a teen "spit shining" his shoes to a shine so bright that you could see yourself in it.  His belt buckets were always polished to a sheen.  His clothes always laundered, starched, and ironed.  He was made for the service.  When you'd see him in his Navy dress whites, it would take your breath away.  

Howard Batchelor - Early 1960s

Howard spent many years in the Navy.  He married a lovely girl named Juliette from Londonderry, Northern Ireland in the late 1960s and brought her to live in Gaffney, SC near our hometown.  They stayed there a few decades, then moved back to N. Ireland together in the late 1990s.  

Juliette and Howard Batchelor - 2010

When they lived in Gaffney, SC, we all used to have Sunday lunch together at Mama's house after church. 

Howard and I spent many lazy Sunday afternoons talking about nothing and everything.  He delighted in each of my sons as they were born.  He loved being "Uncle Howard."  

When my world fell apart in 1995 and I moved to Charleston, SC, Howard was there for me.  He always had my back.  He never questioned the truth of anything I ever told him because Howard and I never lied to each other.  Never.

Howard was a devout Christian in deed as well as in word...the BEST kind of Christian. 

After moving back to Derry, N. Ireland, Howard and I talked as often as we could.  I was only able to visit him there once, but I will never forget it.

I will always miss my brothers who have passed.  A sibling takes a piece of your heart with them into the afterlife.  I'll not be whole until we meet again.

My Ancestor, William Humphries, a Patriot, Wounded at the Battle of Kings Mountain, October 7, 1780

Yesterday I told you that my sons and granddaughters are direct descendants of Col. Frederick Hambright, who fought in the Battle of Kings Mountain. 

Today, I am going to tell you about my ancestor who fought and was wounded in that same battle, so my sons and granddaughters are direct descendants of more than one Patriot who fought and was wounded in that battle.

My ancestor is not famous like Col. Frederick Hambright.  He was not a commander.  He was just a soldier fighting to protect his home, family, and way of life.  He was an honorable man. 

Most of us born and raised in and around Blacksburg, SC and/or Kings Mountain, NC probably have more than one ancestor who fought in that battle...just a matter of tracing the ancestry and making the connection.

I am a direct descendant of William Humphries, who fought in the Battle of Kings Mountain.

Here are the generations  from William Humphries to me. Some further  information follows:

• William Humphries (1750-1827) - Marianne Walker
• Samuel Humphries (1781-1849) - Nancy McCraw (1772-1850)
• Sylvester "Cill" Humphries (1830-1864) - Margaret Lemmons (1832- )
• John T Humphries (1851-1928) - Adalissa "Lissie" Lemmons Humphries (1853-1943)
• Janie Susan Humphries Batchelor (1891 - 1956) - Dawson Marcus Batchelor (1892-1927)
• Ruby Batchelor H. Batchelor (1917-2005) - Thomas R. Batchelor (1900-1962)
• Alice J. Batchelor Hambright (1955- )

William Humphries was born in Virginia about 1750 and died May 30, 1827. At some point in his life he migrated from Virginia to settle in Cleveland County, N.C. 

His war records describe his service in the Revolutionary War, and show that he served at different times under Colonels Campbell and James Williams in the South Carolina troops and was brigade quartermaster in General Sumter's brigade. The records also show that he was wounded at the Battle of Kings Mountain by a ball passing through his thigh.*

He served two years as a Patriot and was pensioned under claim No. W4000 (The number was partially illegible.  W4000 may be incorrect.)*

The site of his old residence is about one-fourth mile North of the North and South Carolina state line.  He was buried about one hundred yards west of the old home place, his grave being marked by a stone furnished by the War Department for Revolutionary War soldiers.  His grave and stone are no longer there though.  Please see below for why and where.

William Humphries was married twice. First to Marianne Walker, who was the mother of his son, John Humphries, born in 1768.

William Humphries' second wife was Francis Sarratt. 

Names of the known children of William Humphries are:

          (1) John
          (2) William II
          (3) Samuel
          (4) Jesse
          (5) David
          (6) Margaret
          (7) Francis
          (8) Susannah
          (9) Anderson
         (10) Jane

There is some discussion about which wife had which children.  Some records show Marianne as mother to the first five children and Francis the rest, but some records show Marianne as mother to the first eight children and Francis the last two, so I'm just listing the names of the children for you. 

I do know that Samuel, my ancestor, was Marianne's son.

William Humphries' Headstone Camps Creek Baptist Church, Cleveland County, NC
William Humphries' headstone is presently at Camps Creek Baptist Church in Mooresboro, Cleveland County, North Carolina. However, his remains are not there. They are still located at his home place, unmarked.

After William's home was sold the new owner plowed under the graves and discarded the tombstones in a ditch where members of the Humphries family found them and placed his headstone and his son William Jr.'s headstone side by side at Camps Creek Baptist Church.  May they rest in peace.

*Reference: "History of First Humphries Family Settling in No. 1 Township, Cleveland County, North Carolina" by J.C. Coleman Humphries

Col. Frederick Hambright and the Battle of Kings Mountain - October 7, 1780

Col. Frederick Hambright was a Revolutionary War hero who replaced Col. William Chronicle as Commander of the Lincoln County Militia when Col. Chronicle was killed during the Battle of Kings Mountain.

Born Freiderick Hamprecht in Neunstetten, Germany, May 17, 1727 (d May, 1817), eleven year old Frederick Hambright and family members arrived in Philadelphia October 27, 1738 aboard the English ship St. Andrews, Captain Steadman, master.  


Since "Hambright" is a misspelling of Hamprecht, it is believed that all the Hambrights in the world descend from or have a relationship to Col. Frederick Hambright.

Col. Hambright was 53 years old when he fought and was wounded at the Battle of Kings Mountain in Blacksburg, SC, near Kings Mountain, NC.

There are monuments and markers placed in and around the battleground to honor him.

You may have noticed that my last name is Hambright.  I am no blood kin to the Hambrights, but my sons and granddaughters are direct descendants of Col. Frederick Hambright and his wife, Mary Eaker Hambright.

The Hambright generations follow.  If you'd like to read more about Col. Frederick Hambright, click HERE.

• Generation   :  Peter Hamprecht (ca 1587) m. Eva _____? (ca 1591)
• Generation   :  Hans Wilhelm Hamprecht m. Margaretha _______?
• Generation   :  Wilhelm Hamprecht (1657-1727) m. Anna Barbara Streaner (1659-1753)
• Generation   :  Hans Conrad Hamprecht m. __________? (Neunstetten, Buchen-Baden, Germany)
• Generation 1:  Col. Frederick Hambright, Sr. (1727-1817) m. Sarah Hardin (1733-before 1780)
• Generation 2:  Frederick Hambright, Jr. (1766-1844) m. Mary Eaker (1772-1832)
• Generation 3:  Madison Hambright (1811-1857) m. (2) Elizabeth Manning (1816-1848)
• Generation 4:  James K. Hambright (1848-1916) m. Nancy A. Porter (1859-1916)
• Generation 5:  James A. Hambright (1885-1953) m. Ora A. Peeler (1892-1984)
• Generation 6:  J. Davis Hambright (1920-2012) m. Virgie B. Leagan (1922-2012)
• Generation 7:  Keith L. Hambright (1954-____) m. Alice J. Batchelor (1955-____)
• Generation 8:  K. Davis Hambright (1973-____) m. Mandy Greene (?-___)
• Generation 9:  Sharon L. Hambright (1999-____)
• Generation 9:  B. Paige Hambright (2001-____)
• Generation 8:  Marcus W. Hambright (1976-____)
• Generation 8:  Eric M. Hambright (1978-____)

Col. Frederick Hambright is also one of the characters in New York Times best selling author, Sharyn McCrumb's recent historical fiction book, King's Mountain.  This book is a must read if you are interested in Revolutionary War history.  It tells the story of the Battle of King's Mountain in an interesting novel format.  It is fascinating!  

Remembering the Summer of 1972

Do you ever hear a song that just takes you back?  Me too.

When I hear Bobby Vinton singing Sealed With a Kiss, it takes me right back to sitting in my Mama's yellow porch swing and listening to the radio in the summer of 1972.


Now THAT was a summer.

I spent those summer days in a factory spraying glue to stick cloth on backing to make stereo speakers, and I spent those summer nights hanging out with my friends.  We rode around in souped up cars singing to our 8 track tape players playing The Grass Roots Greatest Hits and Carole King's Tapestry.

We listened to Billboard's Top Rock and Roll Hits on the radio and we took some time to just be young.

Little did I know that the very next summer I would be married and expecting my first child.  Life is funny like that.  You never know when it is going to suddenly change drastically.  

Always remember:

• A single day can change the course of your life.  
• A single decision in a single day can change the course of your life.
• There are no coincidences.
• All things happen as they should.

Still, it is difficult to not ask, "Why?" or wonder about what happened next.

For instance, one day in the summer of 1972 I was riding in the front seat of Larry White's 1971 bright orange Plymouth Road Runner.  Larry was my younger sister's boyfriend at the time and he had offered to give me a ride somewhere.  

We ended up stuck in traffic behind a convoy of jeeps filled with new draftees for the Vietnam War.  

Larry was depressed that day because he, like most young men who graduated high school in 1972, was afraid of being drafted and having to go fight a very unpopular war. 

The young men on the back of the jeep in front of us started whistling at me and motioning for me to throw them cigarettes.  They puffed imaginary cigarettes and showed me such pitiful  pleading hands and faces.  

They seemed a fun-loving bunch, and they made me laugh.

Larry had a pack of Winstons in the car and I must have thrown five or six of them before one of the young men caught one.  He blew kisses at me and smiled and they all let out a great cheer and waved and laughed.

Those boys.  

I think of them often.  They were so young.  The one who caught the cigarette was a handsome thing.  Tall and thin with black hair and a brilliant smile.  I will never forget him.  

I can't help but wonder what happened to those young men.  Did they all return from Vietnam?  Did they marry and raise a family and live ordinary lives after that, or were they damaged by that war?  Did they have nightmares?  Did they ever laugh and cheer and catch cigarettes again?  

1972 was a year of change for me.  It was one of the best and one of the worst years of my life, but that summer was certainly memorable, and every time I hear these songs, I remember, and I wonder.  If you are near my age, I bet you do too.

• Alone Again (Naturally
• American Pie
• Candy Man
• Lean On Me
• Baby Don't Get Hooked On Me
• Brand New Key
• Brandy (You're A Fine Girl)
• Nice To Be With You
• My Ding-A-Ling
• Betcha By Golly, Wow
• The Lion Sleeps Tonight
• Long Cool Woman (In A Black Dress)
• Song Sung Blue
• A Horse With No Name
• Everybody Plays The Fool
• Precious And Few
• Last Night I Didn't Get To Sleep At All
• Nights In White Satin
• Too Late To Turn Back Now
• Down By The Lazy River
• Rocket Man
• Rockin' Robin
• Morning Has Broken
• The City Of New Orleans
• Garden Party
• I Can See Clearly Now
• Burning Love
• Hold Your Head Up
• Where Is The Love
• Layla
• Sylvia's Mother
• Hurting Each Other
• Puppy Love
• You Don't Mess Around With Jim
• Never Been To Spain
• Sealed With A Kiss
• Doctor My Eyes

It's really hard to read those titles without singing the songs in your head, isn't it?! 😆

Operation Sea Dragon, USS Keppler, Vietnam, and My Brother, Gene - 1966-67

All three of my brothers were US Navy during the Vietnam War years, but this morning I'm remembering my tall,  red-headed, freckled-face, mischief-making brother, Gene, who was next to me in sibling order, and whom I miss so very very very much.

Gene Wayne Batchelor

My brother, Gene, always loved me...just as I am.  That is a rare and wonderful thing.  We had many adventures together over the decades, but today I'm remembering an adventure he had without me.

I'm glad I wasn't there.

Back in late 1966 and early 1967 Gene was a Gunner's Mate aboard the USS Keppler, a Gearing-class US Navy destroyer, whose assignment at the time was "Operation Sea Dragon."

USS Keppler

Operation Sea Dragon's mission, as I understand it, was basically to help keep North Vietnamese men and weapons out of South Vietnam.  They were on patrol, and they saw action.

The following is recorded in the USS Keppler's deck logs:

• December 6, 1966 the USS Keppler: 
• anchored on gunfire support station near Trung Phan, South Vietnam, maneuvered as necessary to maintain anchorage while firing at targets ashore.
•  December 7, 1966 the USS Keppler: 
• anchored in Da Nang harbor. 
• anchored off the Song Dua Dai River
• December 8, 1966 the USS Keppler:
•  anchored in Da Nang bay.
• December 11, 1966 the USS Keppler:
• rescued a downed pilot off the eastern coast of North Vietnam.
•  January 29-30, 1967 the USS Keppler:
• patrolled in the vicinity of the Song Giang river
•  January 31 to February 2, 1967 the USS Keppler:
• patrolled in the vicinity of the Kien Giang River 

During these patrols in January and February 1967, the USS Keppler destroyed or damaged 51 communist junks (A junk is a seagoing ship with a traditional Chinese design of square sails spread by battens, a high stern, and usually a flat bottom.).
 
The destroyer also frequently engaged enemy batteries on shore, and on March 11, 1967 a communist gun scored a hit on the USS Keppler's gun mount that was my brother, Gene's regular post.  Six crewmen were wounded.

The USS Keppler suffered a hit March 11, 1967.

Gene's shift had ended not long before the hit.  Gene's friend whose turn it was at the post was badly wounded.

Gene's body may have escaped that post without a scratch that day, but his mind, his heart, perhaps his very soul, were never the same.  He told me many times, "It should have been me who took that hit." 

That was never true, of course, Gene's shift was over.  It was not his fault his friend was hit. It was irrational of him to think otherwise, but Gene was 18 years old at the time and life had just shown him that he and his friends were not invincible.  The battleship could not protect them. The big guns could not protect them. Their lives were really and truly at risk.  

It was real.

Gene served his country in the US Navy until 1972.  After his honorable discharge from that service, he came home and tried to live a normal life, but he was never again the happy-go-lucky boy who went to war when he was 18.   

Gene ended up wandering from place to place for many years.  Never quite satisfied.  Never quite able to escape the demons that haunted him.  The silent screams of those men on those 51 communist junks were relentless.  He could never shake them. 

Vietnam was like that. 

No hero's welcome back to the states for the Vietnam vets.  Those sailors and soldiers and airmen and marines returned home to disrespect in all its various ugly forms.  They paid a very high price for their military service, and the carrying of that kind of stress shortened many of their lives. 

Gene died of a major heart attack in 2002 when he was 53 years old.  We and the US Navy carried out his final wishes. 

Gene's ashes were scattered at sea with full honors and a 21 gun salute by the US Navy from the USS McInerney, a guided-missle frigate, on July 1, 2003 at 27-47.6's6 LAT 072-46.8'w7 LON, Time 1030R.

May he rest in peace.