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<p>[QUOTE=&quot;KBBPLL, post: 7314388, member: 104064&quot;]From my grandmother:</p><p><br /></p><p>&quot;George Emery Logue was called Emery. He was born in Clinton Co, PA, on 14 Sept. 1844. He enlisted in the Civil War on 28 Oct. 1861 when he had just turned 17 years old. He reenlisted after three years and served until the end of the war. He was quite short, 5 ft. 4 in. Grandma said he was &#039;feisty as a bandy rooster&#039;. He also drank too much, no doubt trying to prove he was as big a man as any one, like most small men. Until he met Grandma, he roamed. As soon as the Wisconsin and Mississippi rivers became navigable in the spring, he was off on a raft, floating from Muscoda on the Wis. to the Mississippi, selling and trading with the people along the rivers. He often went as far as New Orleans and was gone for weeks at a time. Marriage didn&#039;t stop this, but he came home for winter. Grandma had a farm from her father, so he plowed and planted in the spring, then took off, leaving Grandma to care for it with the help of her many half brothers and their sons. In spite of this, Grandma thought him to be a good man, a kind and loving father and husband. He dropped dead at age 47 with a heart attack, said to be caused by his four years of fighting in the War. I would say that the following years also took their toll.&quot; [Note - His father and brother also served in the Civil War and both died soon after, having been imprisoned in Andersonville]. </p><p><br /></p><p>&quot;He was thirty-four when he rode a horse with a friend past the farm where Grandma, a girl of fifteen, was idly swinging on the farm gate, her long black hair (it hung to her knees still at 84) flying in the breeze. She had just lost her father, and was wondering on this spring day which one of her half brothers or sisters (she had ten) would be taking her in. Grandpa is supposed to have turned to his friend and said &#039;There is the girl I&#039;m going to marry&#039;. And he did, four months later on 20 July 1879. &quot;</p><p><br /></p><p>So, I would travel to Pleasant Hill, Wisconsin in 1865, and give the 1857 dime to the parents of Julia (Miller) Logue, the girl swinging on the farm gate. When she&#039;s old enough, tell her to give the dime to a guy on a horse named Emery and tell her that she should be sure to marry him, because otherwise I won&#039;t exist. Also tell him to pass the dime down to his granddaughter, my grandmother, so she can give it back to me, his great-great-grandson to be. </p><p><br /></p><p>Of course, being the bandy rooster, George swapped the real 1857 dime for this 1861 counterfeit and spent the 1857 on whiskey. I ended up with the counterfeit from my grandma. I&#039;m entering this contest so I can get my 1857 dime back. If I don&#039;t win, then I won&#039;t exist. </p><p><br /></p><p>[ATTACH=full]1278499[/ATTACH][/QUOTE]</p><p><br /></p>

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