Chasing the Past

It’s impossible for me to pick just one favorite photograph. I decided to pick an ancestor I hadn’t written about much and my favorite photograph of him.

I have a fleeting memory of my great grandfather Charlie Morris. I really shouldn’t have that considering he died when I was two. My grandmother and older cousins called him Pa or sometimes Pa Charlie. I’ve found in records where his nickname was Braid. I’m not sure of how he came to be called that. I’ve talked a bit about his name before but not about the man.

Pa was born 7 October 1883 and was raised in northern Montgomery County around the community of Uwharrie. According to many people, he lived a colorful life. He married Annie Cranford (that’s another story for another day) and they lived their lives in various places around Uwharrie. He died 18 October 1975.

The Judge

One of the stories I’ve heard is that he was a bootlegger and I’m pretty sure that was true. The story I’m not so sure about is when (if) he was arrested. The story goes that the revenuers caught him red-handed, broke up his still and took him to court. They were adamant that they had him this time and he wasn’t getting off. Law enforcement was telling him this as they walked into court. He saw the judge come in and turned to the officers and allowed that he didn’t know about that.

Now these gentlemen were not pleased to hear this and guffawed, “We’ve got you dead to rights, Charlie.”

He just chuckled and said, “Naw, I ‘spect I’ll be goin’ home today.” He nodded to the judge. “I just sold ‘im a jug Saturday night.” Sure enough, when the judge saw Pa, he dismissed all the charges.

The Inmate

Another tale I have yet to verify is that when my grandpa went to work for the Department of Transportation, he was able to get a job for Pa as a guard. I don’t know if he was supposed to be guarding the road crew or at the jail. The tale told to me is that one of the inmates tried running and, as a guard was trained to do, he shot the inmate. I don’t think he killed him, but it really affected him. He didn’t work as a guard for long.

Iron Stomach

To end on a lighter note, he could eat anything. He was the only person I’ve ever known to eat possum (he said it was greasy) and pokeberries. I know pokeberries are supposed to be poisonous but he was caught red handed (literally) more than once. You see, pokeberries are a pinkish red and will stain anything. On more than one occasion he would turn up with stained hands and mouth.

Back to the photo. I feel like this photo says a lot about him. From the cigarette hanging out of his mouth to the squirrels hanging on the side of the house.

This post is a part of the 2025 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks challenge by Amy Johnson Crow at www.amyjohnsoncrow.com.