Daddy’s family was a major influence in my early years. His parents, Grandma and Grandpa Segrest were both still living when I was born. Grandpa died two years later, in 1944, and a vaguely remember him. He apparently liked to lay on a bench in the front yard at what I always knew as Uncle Earl’s house, just across the branch to the east of the Little House. That’s where he and Grandma lived, and, of course, Uncle Earl, who was not married then lived there too. I actually remember the old man, lying on the bench, in the front yard.
Fermor Chandler Segrest and Minnie Braswell Segrest
Daddy—Forrest Chandler Segrest, Sr.—was born December 27, 1909. He was born about three miles east of the Little House, on a place that he called the “Dunne” place. His brothers, Marvin Lynwood (Uncle Buddy), Ralph Verner, (Uncle R.V.), Robert Earl (Uncle Earl) and James Woodrow, (Uncle Jody), always lived nearby. And his sisters Carrie Mae Slay (Aunt Carrie), Willie Reese Butler.(Aunt Willie), and Verla Ruth, Haney (Aunt Verla), were not far away. We knew all of them well. Uncle Buddy, and his wife Aunt Runnie, Uncle R.V., and his wife Aunt Ruby, Aunt Carrie and her husband, Uncle Pink, and Aunt Willie and her husband, Uncle Raymond all celebrated over sixty years of marriage. Only Uncle Earl and Aunt Daisy, Aunt Verla and Uncle Wylie had fewer than fifty years. Mama and Daddy were married for fifty-six years before Daddy’s death on December 19, 1992.
(Standing) James Woodrow Segrest, Sr., Robert Earl Segrest, Sr., Forrest Chandler Segrest, Sr., Willie Reese Butler, (Seated) Verla Ruth Haynie, Ralph Vernon Segrest, Sr. Carrie Slay, Marvin L. Segrest
With both parents from large families, I had lots of first cousins—Uncle Buddy and Aunt Runie had eight children—Mae, Vernon, Juanita, Virginia, Aaron, Franklin, Montez and Zenoma. Aunt Carrie and Uncle Pink had six—Pinkston, Frances, Warren, Grady, Ruth, and Alton. Uncle R.V. and Aunt Ruby had five—Ralph, Donald, Joyce, Bob and Bill. Aunt Verla and Uncle Wylie had only one—Charles. All of those were older than me. Uncle Jody and Aunt Ella had four—James, who is a year older than I, and Fay, Roy and Betty Jean, who are younger. Uncle Earl married late, and his three—Murray, Robert and Terry, were all younger than I. In the early years, there were foot paths connecting to all of Daddy’s brothers houses by the shortest route, so you didn’t have to go “around the road.”
Daddy had two great granddaddy’s who were enlisted soldiers for the Confederacy in Civil War—Grandpa Braswell and Grandpa Segrest. Both fought at Chickamauga, among other battles, according to family tradition. One was part of the Army of Northern Virginia, for some reason. I think that after Chickamauga, the both walked home. I know nothing of any slave ownership, and am certain that they were not “plantation” owners.
Everyone that I have ever met who spells their last name S-E-G-R-E-S-T can trace ancestry to Macon County, Alabama. The Segrests arrived in Macon County soon after the Indians departed if not before. There were three brothers, and the came from Orangeburg District, South Carolina. They were prolific in Macon County. There were lots of them there in my early days. It was probably the most common name in the County. And to the surprise of many outsiders, we were no longer closely related, although genealogists could trace the family tree, easy enough. Family tradition had the family originating in Germany, but from what I have been able to learn, I suspect that our name bearing forebears were from the Swiss Alps.
While all of my Segrest ancestors since the 1830’s were Macon County residents, I do not know of a real “home place.” Daddy’s immediate family probably identified the place where Grandma, Grandpa, and Uncle Earl lived as a sort of home place, I don’t think they ever owned it before Daddy bought it in 1934. My ancestors seem to have moved from farm to farm, but always calling Macon County home, or returning there after sojourning elsewhere.
When I was born, I believe that Daddy’s sole occupation was farmer. Previously, he had been a school bus driver. While we lived at the Little House, about 1946, he drove a milk truck, picking up cans of milk and delivering them to the milk plant in Dadeville. He then worked as a carpenter, along with Uncle Earl and others, for Conner Brothers, who owned a lumber supply store in Tuskegee and engaged in construction work. He helped Granddaddy and Grandmother Mote build their new house at Downs in 1952. He drove a tractor with a mower to cut grass and weed for the County on Road rights of way, and went on to work as a bulldozer operator. Then he became a road crew foreman, and retired from that work. The common thread was that he was practically always driving something, and prided himself in his driving skill. In his old age, we had a heck of a time getting the keys away from him, and had to actually disable the tractor!
Daddy was a lively, well loved man. He was well read, although he went no further than the 7th grade in school. He didn’t start to school until he was about 9 year old, and could already read. He was promoted to higher classes very quickly, and probably spent three or four years attending school, at the most. Mrs. Rossie Pierce, who taught me first and second grade, also taught him. He read the Montgomery Advertiser everyday.
I don’t remember Daddy ever reading to us. But he told stories. He told about the three little pigs, and I am sure there were other traditional stories as well. But our favorite stories were his stories about fishing. As a boy, he had fished on Calebee creek with the Richardson boys, as well as the Jordans, who were his cousins. And he either remembered the events with vivid detail, or was a creative story teller! Based on the numbers of initials that we found carved into trees close to the Creek when we began to fish and hunt there, I think he probably had a lot of story material to work with.
Daddy lohttps://dalesegrest.com/biospheric-faith-consciousness/3-stages-and-sources-of-faith/ction/ved to buck dance. He danced for us occasionally. I never understood how he did it. It was a lively dance, and it didn’t look to me like his feet were touching the floor.
In those days, Daddy smoked Camel Cigarettes. I guess everyone smoked in the days of World War II, if you can believe the War movies. He smoked a lot. Later in life—I guess when he learned that smoking is bad for health, he quit. But really, he just switched off to Blue Tip Cigars!
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