Gault & Galt: A Family Legacy

 By Tiffany Amber Stockton

Only 1 more month until the festivities surrounding the 100th annual Pony Penning Day celebrations, but I'll cover that in July. :) Actually, the famous fair is having a special allowance this year and will be open every weekend during both June and July. I recently shared some family history with my daughter, and that set me to thinking about family legacy.

If you missed last month's post about the Beebe family legacy on Chincoteague, you can view it here.

When History Gets Personal

When I was a little girl, my mom read me the beloved classic Misty of Chincoteague. I was completely captivated—wild ponies, island adventures, brave kids. But the best part? My mom didn’t stop at the story. She followed it up with tales of her own childhood and how her dad actually knew Grandpa Beebe, Paul, and Maureen. Then she pulled out a photo—a real picture—of her standing next to Misty. The Misty.

To little me, it was like finding out my mom and grandfather were local celebrities. In my eyes, they kind of were.

But let’s rewind a bit. Way back to 1919, when my grandfather—Pop-pop, as I called him—was born on Chincoteague Island. His parents, Daniel W. Gault, Sr. and Carrie Jester Gault, each brought a child from previous marriages, and together they had seven more. Pop-pop was the first of those seven. A big, bustling family.

In 1925, when Pop-pop was just six years old, the very first official Pony Penning Day took place. I love imagining him as a little boy, heart racing as he ran toward the beach, waiting for the moment when the saltwater cowboys would herd the wild ponies across the channel from Assateague to Chincoteague for the big auction. That tradition still lives on today, but for him—it was just part of growing up.

The Great Depression hit everyone hard, and my family was no exception. My mom used to tell me how Pop-pop’s father, my great-grandfather, would get creative just to keep the family going. He’d cut up old car tires to use the rubber for resoling shoes. Can you imagine? That kind of grit always stuck with me. By age 13, Pop-pop was already cutting hair in his dad’s barbershop to help make ends meet.

He graduated from high school in 1937, and not long after, the family sold the island barbershop and moved to Washington, D.C. That’s where he met my grandmother, Esther Mae Seiple. They got married after he returned from serving in the Army for five years stationed in the Panama Canal during WWII. After the war, he joined his father once again, this time at the “Father & Son Barber Shop” on Pennsylvania Avenue, just steps from Capitol Hill.

And let me tell you, their client list was impressive. Senators, congressmen, and D.C.’s elite sat in their chairs. It ran in the family, apparently. Another branch of our family, the Galts (spelled without the “u”), owned Galt & Bro., Inc. Jewelers. That shop served U.S. presidents and opened in 1802, right near the White House. The stories that came out of that business—like fixing Abraham Lincoln’s watch during the first shots at Fort Sumpter, or Edith Galt marrying President Woodrow Wilson—could fill an entire book. Maybe that can be my next project.

 

But back to Pop-pop.

Around 1952, not long after Congress opened a barbershop in the Capitol basement, my great-grandfather retired and moved back to Chincoteague. That left Pop-pop running the D.C. shop on his own. He kept it going until 1966 when Safeway bought out the block for a new loading dock. That’s when he, my grandmother, and my mom (who was born in 1950) packed up and moved to Suitland, Maryland.

He rented a chair in a barbershop in Fairfax Village, and that’s where my older brother had his very first haircut. Pop-pop stayed there, cutting hair and telling stories, until 1979 when he returned to his roots on Chincoteague Island. He took over a barbershop there and moved into a little apartment across the street.

That apartment became special to me. I can still picture myself sitting on his knee, spinning wild tales about my brother and me being in some sort of danger, and Pop-pop swooping in to save the day. What can I say? I’ve always been a storyteller...even at age four. :)

Sadly, our time together didn’t last as long as I wish it had. Pop-pop passed away from a heart attack in 1983. I was only seven. But the stories, the history, and the legacy we shared have stayed with me ever since.

And now, through this blog and the books I’m currently writing, his story lives on.

NOW IT'S YOUR TURN:

* Do you have a family story that connects you to a famous place, person, or moment in history? Share how your family’s past has shaped your perspective or inspired you.

* What childhood memory or family tradition still sticks with you today, and why? Whether it’s a holiday ritual, a special person, or a place you visited, we’d love to hear about it.

* Have you ever felt a personal connection to a book or story that tied into your real life? Maybe like me with Misty of Chincoteague, a fictional tale suddenly felt real. What is it?

Leave answers to these questions or any comments on the post below.

** This note is for our email readers. Please do not reply via email with any comments. View the blog online and scroll down to the comments section.

Come back on the 9th of each month for my next foray into historical tidbits to share.

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BIO

Tiffany Amber Stockton has embellished stories since childhood, thanks to a very active imagination and notations of talking entirely too much. Honing those skills led her to careers as an award-winning and best-selling author and speaker, while also working as a professional copywriter/copyeditor. She loves to share life-changing products and ideas with others to help them get rooted and live a life of purpose.

Currently, she lives with her husband and fellow author, Stuart Vaughn Stockton, along with their two children, three dogs, and three cats in southeastern Kentucky. In her 20+ years as a professional writer, she has sold twenty-six (26) books so far and has agent representation with Tamela Murray of the Steve Laube Agency. You can find her on Facebook and GoodReads.

The Backward Walk Around the World – Part I, America

By Kathy Kovach

Do you love to walk? Around the neighborhood. A nature hike. Perhaps you even have aspirations of taking on the Appalachian Trail, which is comprised of 2,200 miles between Georgia and Maine. But have you ever thought of walking around the world?

Backward?

Thirty-six-year-old Plennie Lawrence Wingo did. Born in 1895, the café owner found himself a victim of the Great Depression, his business succumbing to failure. He turned to entertainment, thinking he could bring in extra cash by learning how to walk backward at a fast pace. The world tour idea came about when his 15-year-old daughter hosted a party, and one of the boys mentioned some of the feats performed by adventurers, such as Lindbergh’s flight across the Atlantic, the spectacle of flagpole sitting, or the person who pushed a peanut up Pike’s Peak with his nose. All that could be done had already been done, he opined. “Ah,” Wingo may have said. “But what about someone walking backward around the world? No one has tried that.”

Backward walking wasn’t a new thing, however. Several people had taken on the challenge, some at great distances. But none had attempted a transcontinental reverse stroll.

July 11, 1817 – Darby Stevens set off from Wormwood Scrubbs, England intent on walking backward for 500 miles in 20 days. He did it on a wager for 50 guineas. It’s unclear if he actually made it.

Others followed suit, even into the next century. One such fellow was arrested in New Jersey for walking backward into people’s homes to beg. He was Spaniard Paul Guavarra, who claimed to be descended from Christopher Columbus. True to form, he walked backward into his jail cell.

Patrick Harmon of Seattle sold his cigar shop after being fined $100 for gambling. Ironically, he decided to walk on a bet of $20,000 on August 5, 1915, from San Francisco to New York with his friend and guide, William Baltazor, who he paid $4 a day. They made the journey successfully, and “paraded up the steps of City Hall. . .walking backward. . .” a New York newspaper touted. Some controversy ensued over whether the duo followed the rules, even though Harmon suffered frostbite on the tips of his ear and nose during January in Iowa. They also claimed to have battled a rabid coyote in Nevada, although the area they claimed it happened in was inconsistent. They were no doubt on the railway line rather than the Lincoln Highway, apparently taking trains throughout Nevada. Turns out Patrick Harmon of Seattle was really Patrick O’Rourk from St. Mary’s, Ohio, and had been living under an alias. No wonder there were trust issues. Whether he won the wager was never reported.

Jackson Corwin, later known as the Human Crawfish, was mistaken for a detective as he made his reverse way from Philadelphia to San Francisco in 1923. One woman gave him her husband’s picture and asked him to keep an eye out for him.

No one in their right mind would take on a world walking tour. Without a dime in their pocket. During the Great Depression. Backward.

No one but Plennie Wingo.

Wingo practiced until he felt it time to go public, which he did at the Southwestern Exposition and Fat Stock Show in Fort Worth, Texas on March 7, 1931. First, he walked around town advertising the stock show. This earned him the right to present himself during the show. Wearing a cowboy costume and a sign on his back that now billed himself as “the first reverse walker of the world,” he strutted, toe over heel.

And thus, on April 15, 1931, he said goodbye to his wife and daughter. It comes as no surprise that Mrs. Idella Wingo was not on board with this stunt. Even so, he donned eyeglasses with mirrors incorporated in the sides, and began his expedition, one foot behind the other.

The .25 postcard that helped finance the walk around the world.

When he reached Dallas, he stopped at a photography studio to take his picture and have postcards made that he could sell along the way. He continued to wear his sign on his back. A policeman stopped him, stating an ordinance prohibiting the carrying of signs of any type. Wingo found a phone and called the mayor. After explaining his plight, the mayor granted permission. Other towns presented the same struggle, some over the signage and some over concern about the backward walking, but Wingo simply talked to those higher up and was granted passage.

Wingo didn’t have to walk backward all of the time. When he entered a town, he’d find the Western Union and have his book stamped for proof of day and time. Then, he was free to walk normally around town. This elicited some booing from the crowds gathered until he assured them all was on the up and up. If he was forced to move forward at any time, he would note where it happened and return to the place of interruption to continue on. He refused to cheat, just as he was determined to earn his own way. The postcard sales assisted with food and lodging, and the occasional sign advertising for businesses helped.

Although adept at reverse walking, Plennie wasn’t impervious to injury. On July 30, after 1700 miles, he stepped in a hole near Canton, Ohio, and fractured his ankle. He spent three weeks recovery time in the hospital free of charge. He’d become somewhat of a celebrity by this time, with his story featured in a newsreel that was seen in theaters. Go here A Texan man during his round the world walking tour in Chicago, Illinois. HD Stock Footage - YouTube to see it.

Once fully recovered, Wingo recommenced on August 24, 1931. Another policeman approached him as he was leaving a city in Pennsylvania. He issued him a citation for “mopery in the second degree,” but the ticket read, “Good luck on your trip around the world.”

Plennie, Idella, and Vivian during the normal years.

Although Idella Wingo had been writing letters to Plennie, they dried up after fifty days. When she finally wrote again, it was to ask him to give up and come home. His daughter also wrote telling him her mother was ill. They’d been trying to make a go of it, but without money coming from him, it was hard. Wingo was devastated but refused to quit.

His walk stalled in mid-October when he reached New York City. Despite handing out business cards describing his desire, he still had no sponsor to help him get to Europe. The urge to give up became strong. He stayed in a boarding house and took on jobs. Two-and-a-half months later, in December, he decided to continue on and left for Connecticut, Massachusetts, and Rhode Island. Another letter caught up with him, this time with divorce papers, which he signed.

At long last, on January 12, 1932, a shoe company found work for Wingo as part of the crew aboard the Seattle Spirit, a merchant ship traveling to Germany. He walked the gangplank backward. However, seasickness overcame him the first five days. When they docked in Hamburg, the steward, who had been cruel to him for the entire journey, refused to let him leave. Wingo snuck off the boat about three weeks later when the steward was gone. Months later, a letter reached Wingo from a shipmate revealing what happened after he disembarked. It seemed the steward came on board about nine o'clock that night, happy to discover that Wingo was gone. He took a bath and headed to bed. In about twenty minutes, he was heard screaming, hollering, and cursing. His skin was red and itching, he felt he was on fire. After a search of his bed, it was discovered lye had been the culprit. Wingo had been in charge of the laundry, and he'd gotten his final revenge.

Plennie Wingo's call to adventure doesn't stop here. Join me next month for Part II, Europe. Does he make it all the way around the world? What challenges will he face in pre-World War II Germany? What about the Eastern European block? Trust me when I say, you don't want to miss it.

The backward walk heard around the world began on the nineteenth anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic, April 15, 1912. No mention of this important time in history is given in the account from the book pictured above, The Man Who Walked Backward, by Ben Montgomery. It could be that the Great Depression was pressing hard on the nation, making all other watersheds pale in comparison. Even so, Montgomery paints the backdrop with historical moments so as to capture every nuance of what Plennie Wingo walked through.

Backward.

Titanic: Legacy of Betrayal

A secret. A key. Much was buried on the Titanic, but now it's time for resurrection.

Follow two intertwining stories a century apart. 1912 - Matriarch Olive Stanford protects a secret after boarding the Titanic that must go to her grave. 2012 - Portland real estate agent Ember Keaton-Jones receives the key that will unlock the mystery of her past... and her distrusting heart.

To buy: Amazon

Kathleen E. Kovach is a Christian romance author published traditionally through Barbour Publishing, Inc. as well as indie. Kathleen and her husband, Jim, raised two sons while living the nomadic lifestyle for over twenty years in the Air Force. Now planted in northeast Colorado, she's a grandmother, though much too young for that. Kathleen is a longstanding member of American Christian Fiction Writers. An award-winning author, she presents spiritual truths with a giggle, proving herself as one of God's peculiar people.

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