
This is the recollection of Jennie McCoy Chambers from her Indian-Pioneer Paper of my 2x-Great-Grandfather’s, Spencer Seago Stephens, experience on the Trail of Tears, or the “Path Where They Cried,” as it is known to the Cherokee.
“Mrs. Chambers' grandfather and grandmother Hicks, together with
her own mother, came in the emigrant train over the Trail. On the way
they picked up two children who were lost. One, a boy whose people had
all died of smallpox, came to them when they were encamped along a
creek. He was known as S. S. Stevens and never knew but what he was
an Indian. The other child was a little girl who knew no name but Polly.
When she grew older she married and was known as Aunt Polly Myers.”
(Source: https://ualrexhibits.org/tribalwriters/artifacts/Family-Stories-Trail-of-Tears.html#Chambers)
The Elijah Hicks detachment departed Georgia on 1 Sep 1838 and arrived in Oklahoma on 4 Jan 1839. Spencer went on to graduate the Cherokee National Male Seminary and later served as Superintendent of Education. Spencer’s parents remain unknown today, with no conclusive proof of other family Indian-Pioneer Paper stories.
Three of my Great-Grandmother’s sisters, Gussie, Leona, and Rella, were early members of the San Francisco Waitresses’ Union Local 48, one of the largest female-led Unions in the country at the time. It was probably known to other branches of the family that the sisters were waitresses. I don’t think it was known how active they were in their Union. History recognizes other labor leaders but not the contribution of the sisters. I think their experiences should be passed down to our family, so they are not forgotten. In a time when fewer women worked outside the home, these women stood up for their workplace rights by serving as President of the Local and as a delegate to the Annual California Federation of Labor Convention, and by walking the picket lines.
Here’s a picture of Gussie and other directors of Local 48 when they moved into new headquarters about 1943:
https://hdl.handle.net/2027/wu.89062146972?urlappend=%3Bseq=788%3Bownerid=13510798892344899-978

My Uncle told me stories of his mother-in-law, my Grandma’s, cousin, Sarah Rosalie. I wish I knew about her when my Grandma was alive so I could have asked more questions about her cousin. I wish I’d known she lived into my lifetime less than 40 minutes away from me so I could have met her. They shared a first name; both having been named after their Grandmother. As a female private investigator starting about 1944, her occupation was unusual for a woman. It’s devastating how fast stories and ancestors are forgotten and I’ve had to learn from the newspaper accounts of her career as “Reno Rosie,” the private investigator who sent many couples to Nevada for a divorce. My Dad had no memory of Rosalie even though she attended my parents’ wedding as evidenced by her signature in the guest book.

My Grandma knew that her Uncle Bill played baseball. She even had photos of him with his team; the San Bernardino Stars. She did not know that his 1911 team, the Superior Brickmakers, won their championship. Nor did she know that the National Baseball Hall of Fame has a copy of his Minor League Contract Card. I always think of him whenever I watch the movie, Field of Dreams, when Ray Kinsella and Terence Mann pick up Archie Graham and he tells them about teams finding players jobs so they can play nights and weekends.
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