GRUBBS, Nancy White Ferguson - Fountain County INGenWeb Project

Source: Covington Republican, Friday Nov 7, 1919

Every now and then a pioneer of the community passes away and leaves in his or her wake a train of thoughts that lend back to a time whose customs were vastly different from those which are familiar to us now. Such might be truthfully said of Nancy Grubbs, who died the 25th of last month. Born in 1840, she passed her girlhood days on a farm a short distance north of the present Grubbs estate, the home of her father, Alexander White standing at the corner where the road now turns toward Perrysville just north of the Mount Carmel Baptist Church. It was a spacious home for that day and from it the girl looked out upon limitless forests where are now to be seen well tilled fields, and helped to card the wool that was to be woven into cloth by her own father's loom in the back room of the dwelling. And the days were not altogether uninteresting or uneventful. The home stood at the turning point in the road used by pioneers from the east to the west. Many trains of movers passed constantly and made the home their hotel in passing. The stream of immigrants was almost unceasing and very few days passed without its interview with people from Ohio, Pennsylvania and other eastern states who, like her own father and mother, were moving westward in search of new homes. There were no daily newspapers, telephones or even dependable mail routs to enhance communication between the members of the thinly populated district, but this ever changing caravan of homeseekers brought tidings of the home folks back east and was heralded by the young people far and near with joyful appreciation. Then came young womanhood, marriage with Benton Ferguson, motherhood and civil war. Benton Ferguson, like many another man of his time, did not wait to be drafted, but enlisted as a volunteer in the Union Army, leaving his young wife and two sons in the car of her mother at the hospitable home at the turn of the road. The war dragged on, sickness came to the husband and he lay seriously ill at the hospital in Louisville. He wanted to see his wife and she wanted to visit him. Tenderly she bade her children and parents goodby and started on what was then considered a hazardous journey for a woman. Her father brought her to Covington where she took a packet on the Wabash & Erie Canal to Lafayette and from thence, over what is now the Monon Railroad she complted the journey to Louisville and many times has spoken in terms of high commendation of the manner in which she was assited on the journey and after reaching camp by the citizens and the officers of the army who extended to her a ready sympathy in her mission and did all in their power to make her way safe and pleasant for her. After the return to her father's house many months dragged by whose monotony was broken only by the scenes that had become a part of her life since childhood. Then came the news that her husband had been allowed a furlough and would be home soon. Word came that he had started and everyone about the old home, and the young wife and mother foremost amont them, was busy making ready the details of the welcome soon to be extended. Then came the sad news that he had reached Lafayette and there had dropped dead in the street July 19, 1864. Then followed the tedious journey with the corpse from Lafayette to Covington by packet and thence by wagon to the old home that had been prepared for a joyous homecoming. The remains were laid to rest in Mount Carmel Cemetery on the same lot where the wife is now buried. Thus closed the first chapter and first genuine sorrow of her life. Eight year flit by, the was ended, and the soldiers hae returned to their peaceful avocations. The widow married another soldier, Philip B. Grubbs and with her husband and children assist in making the community life healthful, wholesome and happy. The Mount Carmel Baptist Church becomes the center of all social functions and young and old for miles around flock to its services with enthusiasm. City churches today with many times the wealth of that one have not half the crowds that one had then nor devotees with the unassumed piety of those common folks that now have mostly passed on. They lie sleeping in the yard of the church they builded and maintained and their lives stand as living reminders to the fast-moving throng of today that the ways of righteous and calm living known to them are yet open to men if they will turn aside and seek them. So in the passing of this life we are reminded of the days that are gone perhaps forever, but to those days and the people who moulded events in them, we owe our priveledges and should so conduct our lives that the beauty of their heritage may not be tarnished.