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The Story of John McQueary

New York City Police Detective, of the Clan McQueary, remembers the oral history of the fight between 'Grandpa McQueary' and his son John McQueary, the son's enlistment and death, and the amateur forensics the grieving father went through to make sure that the remains were his son's - and the overnight transformation of Grandpa McQueary. The detective's daughter is Catherine; who says he'd love a tour to show him where things were and where people lived.
Comments re article 46324 JIM Pvt John S McQueary 19001918

By Brian Little

John McQueary was my grandmother's uncle. He is buried at the cemetery by the New Hope Church.

All of my life I have remembered the story of John. He'd had an argument with his father "Grandpa McQueary" that became physical. During the fight John's arm was broken and not long after he ran off to enlist.

When Grandpa McQueary learned of his death it was told to me that his hair turned white over night and he would walk the floors crying over his lost son and blaming himself for it. When the body arrived by train Grandpa McQueary opened the casket and went thruogh each bone until he came to the broken arm. Only then did he know for certain it was his son and forever after he would sit up at night crying and pacing the floor.

I live in the city of New York. I am a Detective in the New York City Police Department. I was a soldier for several years and proudly wore the 1st Infantry patch as did John. While I do still have many relatives in Adair County, I saddens me to say I do not know them or how to contact them. I would love to find some though who could give me a tour to show me where things were and where our people lived.

On May 14, 2012 my wife and I had our second Daughter. We named her Catherine Adair. - BRIAN LITTLE,

Thanks Brian Little for this masterpiece spellbinder. There are so many here who could - and I believe would - show you where things were and where people lived. I'd nominate a McQueary, likely a kinsman, Rollin McQueary, who never fails to come to Memorial Days at Bearwallow Cemetery, and is one of numerous unofficial docents there. But should he not be there, in his area, where the old McQuearys, Streevals, and Goodins are buried, one can find the cemetery filled with dozens of others who never tire of retelling the fabulous family stories. Each has his or her own little territories, with the family Burton represented in every area. Most years, Jason Harmon will range the oldest area, ready to enthrall audiences from one to a dozen or more with his vast store of unabridged narratives - some humorous, many of tragedy, a lot replete with guns, knives, blood, and mayhem. And maybe, some will read this story and contact you. - ED WAGGENER

This story was posted on 2013-01-06 01:27:00
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