John Petrie
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John Randolph Petrie (1841 - 1921)

John Randolph [uncertain] Petrie
Born in Mt. Morris, Ogle, Illinois, USAmap
Ancestors ancestors
Husband of — married 31 Dec 1868 in Pine Rock, Ogle, Illinois, United Statesmap
Descendants descendants
Died at age 80 in Sawtelle, Los Angeles, California, USAmap
Problems/Questions Profile manager: Christine Cook private message [send private message]
Profile last modified | Created 9 Apr 2015
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Biography

Autobiography (at least half of it which is a copy in his handwriting. I have frequently been asked by my children and friends, to write the story of my life. The subject has been threshed out--so thankfully, between us, that at last-in here despairing of ever again having peace in this world, (and being uncertain of my chances of it in the next), unless I accede to their wish, I have decided to do __, and give to the world the principal events of a long and rather eventful life. No literary style is attempted in this history, I make no bid for either fame or fortune, but -at least- I can testify that the incidents here in related are all of them ___ true, and the records of the public courts can easily be called __ to verify them. To begin at the beginning,; once upon a time a very long time ago [1841], in Ogle County in the state of Illinois, there was born a small boy [he was 5'6" and 120 lbs. as an adult] to whom was given the name of John R. Petrie, the writer of this history. I was the first white boy born in Ogle Country and my coming ___ a good deal of interest among our Indian friends, who came from all parts of the county to see the wonderful sight of an "white papoose". My folks being well fixed, I had none of the privations which belonged by right to an early pioneer, and I had a good a time as a healthy well-fixed American could well have. I was educated at the Rock River Academy, and after leaving school, was taken into my father's office, who at that time held the position of county recorder and clerk of the circuit court of Ogle County. Capt. Hughes was sheriff of the county at that time, and I well remember my final experience as acting deputy sheriff, a position which I owed to him. The story is as follows: There was in the town, a Dutchman by the name of Handester, a huge brute, and when drunk, a mighty dangerous customer to deal with. On the last spree he had been on, he had beat up and murdered his poor little wife, and the community in general being very much wrought up about it, was out to kill. I was well acquainted with the old fellow, who owned a large farm not far from town and I often put up with him when o t hunting. Well, of course, as soon as the murder had been reported, the sheriff, and two or three deputies with a number of townsfolk, had gone out to arrest Handester, and it was somewhere about two O/Clock when Captain Hughes came into the office and sat down. "What's the matter" asked my father, haven't you got that brute yet?" "No", says Hughes looking awful glum. "I went there with a posse of men to get him__ all right, for I don't want any lynching in the town, but-I'll be hanged if we could get near enough to the old sinner to take him. There he sat on his front porch as cool as you please, with a wicked looking old double barreled shot-gun on his knees, and as soon as we showed up had the drop on us right away. I didn't feel like being potted by the old beast, and none of my men did either, so we came away, and left him master of the field for today. Of course I set a guard, so that he can't leave the premises, and I will go after him tomorrow". My father poked all sorts of fun at Hughes at his letting the old Handester call his bluff so easily, till, at last, Hughes got sore. "Why don't you try and get him yourself, if you think it so damed easy" he growled out. ""Caps." I said, "let me have a try at him, what will you give me if I go out this afternoon and bring in Hardester for you?" Handester could put you in his pipe and smoke you and never know he had anything extra in it either." I wanted to ask where he had been put, but the cappps was mad and I did want a try at Handester so kept my temper. "Give me a chance, Caps." I begged. "Just make me one of your deputies, and send me out there, I'll fetch him in."That's rather a fool proposition don't you think" said Hughes turning to my father, "well" says my father smiling, "John generally makes good on his propositions, so as he seems to want it so bad, why send him; at least if he comes back without him, it will take a lot of conceit out of him which is always a good thing at his age." Houghes smoked and thought a while longer, and then at last consented to what I wanted, and made me a deputy "pro term", "and if you get a bullet through you, don't blame me" he growled. I thanks and said I would be careful and take no chances. "Well I started out on my first murder case first stopping at the saloon to get two quarts of their strongest whiskey, which I proceeded to stow away in the buggy. As I neared the house I saw Handester sitting on the porch with his gun at his side. "How der, John," he hollered. "Don't be in a hurry, stop and talk with a fellow". "Sure" I replied. I am in no hurry," What's the news?" "News" Do you know that that fool sheriff was out this morning wanting to arrest me for killing my old woman? Says I'll swing for it. Now I don't say that I had ought to have killed her, but them as says I got to swing for it dont know what they are talking about. Come up here John and talk to a fellow. I aint had no body to talk to since I killed the old woman" ( he talked about the killing as cooly as he would talk about a pig sticking) This invitation was just what I had counted on getting and I quickly hitched my team and turned towards the steps. "Say," hollered the old man, "got any whiskey?" "Sure, want a drink?" "Want it? My God! I haven't had one since it happened. He was shaking all over by the time I handed him the opened bottle and the first drink reduced the contents to about one half. Then I sat down for a chinning match. After he had got limbered up with the whiskey, I led him on to talk about his shooting. He was always bragging about it to me. After some yarn about it, " I bet you that I'm a better shot than you," I said. "Done". Put up a mark and the best out of three must put up or shut up. Any more whiskey in the buggy Johnny?" "Sure," I replied, Ill get it for you. By this time he had finished the first quart and I quickly handed him the second., then firing up a paper mark on a tree some little way off, I ran back." First shot to you, Johnny" he mumbled, busy with the bottle. "No, the gun is yours, first shot to you. Putting down the bottle, he arrived at the mark and fired. "Your turn now." I emptied the other barrel, then snatching out my revolver, I covered him. "Now, Handester," I said, "You must come with me. I have a warrant for your arrest" He came with me all right and a more surprised man than Captain Haughes when I walked into his offices with Hardester in charge, I have never seen. At Lincoln's first call I enlisted [14 AUG 1861] with a good many other neighbors in Captain John R. Hotallings Co. A 2nd Ill Cav, as a private, and followed the column until the close of the war[actually 3 1/3 years]. In 1864 Captain Jame H. Cartwright- now chief justice of the Supreme Court of Ill. raised a company for the 140th Ill Inft. He was elected Captain, and your humble servant-lieutenant. [I have the original commissioning papers]. After peace was restored I returned to Oregon, Ogle County, Ill, which was still my home. I intended to take up the study of law in the offices of my father, Judge F. G. Petrie, but man professes and God or some other of the other pawns that be, quickly disposed of the proposition, not many of us are fortunate enough to carry through our original propositions. So it was in this case. I was appointed Deputy Sheriff by Sheriff James O'Kane and later served a term under his brother William O'Kane who succeeded his bro as sheriff of Ogle Co. Later I served two terms as deputy under Captain BR Wagner, then I was elected Sheriff of the county and served two terms. During my service as Sheriff and County sheriff in Ill. I had quite a varied experience in tracking and arresting some of the most desperate murders, buglers, counterfeiters, and horse thieves in the state of Ill. One case in particular, I vividly remember, as I bear the marks of it to this day. A bank in Rochelle had been looted of $15,000. I was called to the town and soon got track of the fellow who had committed the burglary. I tracked him to the depot, and found that a man answering to the description of the one I suspected had taken the train to New Orleans at nine O/Clock. I took the three)/Clock for St Louis, where I learned that he had taken passage on the Bell of Memphis, bound for New Orleans, LA. A few hours later, I found myself a passenger on board the "City of Alton" bound also for the same port. As we stopped at the final landing to let off passengers and discharge freight, the Belle of Memphis was just out rounder the corner for Natchez. I followed him that way right down to New Orleans, the Belle of Memphis being always just three or four hours ahead. Now I was well acquainted with the city of New Orleans and the first thing I did when I landed was to go through every backstreet alley and hold out places in the city. I could find neither hide nor hair of my man. I was convinced that he had skipped the boat somewhere and made for Galveston, Texas. I determined to get a good nights sleep and take up the train again. Before turning in for the night, I took a walk around and landed in a saloon on one of the principal streets. I sat down and called for a drink and sat there at the window enjoying the tropical scene outside. The soft moonlight outside, the palm trees, the smell of orange blossoms, the negro women with their turbaned heads, on which inventively were trays of bright colored fruits, and flowers, their sing song voices calling attention to their wares. It was almighty different to the cold winds and snow that I had left only a few days before, and the change and contrast added to the interest of it all. A bell softly jangled, in response a colored waiter appeared with a tray of all sorts of drinks. This he proceeded to take into a private room from which came the sound of poker chips on a polished table. I had been interested in this room for some little time, and had determined to see what was going on in it, but it was closed and green Paisley curtains hung in front of it. This curtain hung from a pulley, and so arranged that the waiter could operate it with his foot. New was my time as the man pushed in with his tray, the pulley came off the rope, I reached up to replace it, and at the same time pushed open the door and looked in. There was my man right before me. He saw me as soon as I saw him, and quick as thought grabbed for his gun which was on the table by his side, and fired. The ball took effect in the groin, and I fell to the floor. As my man made for the door, he had to step over me and I grabbed him by the leg of his pants, and rolling over I got out my revolver and let her go. The ball cut off his ear clean, and he squealed like a wild cat. By this time four policemen, attracted by the racket, had rushed in and were trying to separate us, evidently thinking that it was some kind of gambling row. I was hanging on like grim death, I did not propose to be shot like a dog by a bugler, and then let go after I had him. "Search him, boys" I yelled. "He has the goods on him, and I have a warrant". Dropping my gun, I managed to open my coat and show my star. They searched him all right and found all the money on him that he had taken from the Rochelle Bank, all but what he had used for his expenses down. Well, they took me across the street to a drug store where a doctor extracted the bullet and after ten days in bed I was able to go round on crutches. I took him to the car and chained him to the boat, for I was taking no chances and as I took him back to the town of his operations, he was tried and convicted and sent up for a number of years. I often saw him in the pen when I took down a fresh batch of prisoners and he bore me no grudge. " "Croppy" the others called him on account of his ear, and "Croppy" served his time, and I met him not long ago. After that I was always being called upon to do all sorts of odd jobs; I had to be "Johnny on the spot" for every doggone thing that happened in that town or county: chicken thieves, jail break ins, horse thieves, etc. I had to trot after them all until I got so tired of the damned "deputy job", I was ready to quit the blamed business and went west to Dakota thinking to get out of the business. At a later date I will tell you how I didn't keep out of the pesky business. 31 DEC 1868 at Pine Rock, Ogle, Illinois, USA he married Orilla Ford Rowley whose husband had died during the war in Memphis. In Jan 1873 he'd moved to Bon Homme County, Dakota Territory and was 100 miles from nearest railroad in Sioux City. In 1878 he was elected Sheriff of Bon Homme County. In 1882 he was elected City Marshal of Scotland, Bonn Homme, South Dakota. In 1900 he retired by resigning as Deputy United States Marshal under Capt. Seth Bullock. By 1910 he was in Holtville, Imperial, California,with Orilla, John R. Jr., and grandson by Mildred Petire Foerster, Harold E. Foerster Salisbury. That same year he was admitted to National Military Home for Disabled Soldiers in Sawtelle, (Malibu), Los Angeles, Calif. He applied for a pension on the basis of his service in the Civil War and his injuries and a lung problem. He was refused and it took an actual act of Congress to get his pension of something like $21 a month. He died 26 September 1921 in the National Military Home for Disabled Soldiers in Sawtelle, Los Angeles, California.

John R. Petrie was the first white child born in Mt. Morris



Autobiography (at least half of it) which is a copy in his handwriting--(the other half is lost) I have frequently been asked by my children and friends, to write the story of my life. The subject has been threshed out--so thankfully, between us, that at last-in here despairing of ever again having peace in this world, (and being uncertain of my chances of it in the next), unless I accede to their wish, I have decided to do __, and give to the world the principal events of a long and rather eventful life. No literary style is attempted in this history, I make no bid for either fame or fortune, but -at least- I can testify that the incidents here in related are all of them ___ true, and the records of the public courts can easily be called __ to verify them. To begin at the beginning,; once upon a time a very long time ago [1841], in Ogle County in the state of Illinois, there was born a small boy [he was 5'6" as an adult] to whom was given the name of John R. Petrie, the writer of this history. I was the first white boy born in Ogle Country and my coming ___ a good deal of interest among our Indian friends, who came from all parts of the county to see the wonderful sight of an "white papoose". My folks being well fixed, I had none of the privations which belonged by right to an early pioneer, and I had a good a time as a healthy well-fixed American could well have. I was educated at the Rock River Academy, and after leaving school, was taken into my father's office, who at that time held the position of county recorder and clerk of the circuit court of Ogle County. Capt. Hughes was sheriff of the county at that time, and I well remember my final experience as acting deputy sheriff, a position which I owed to him. The story is as follows: There was in the town, a Dutchman by the name of Handester, a huge brute, and when drunk, a mighty dangerous customer to deal with. On the last spree he had been on, he had beat up and murdered his poor little wife, and the community in general being very much wrought up about it, was out to kill. I was well acquainted with the old fellow, who owned a large farm not far from town and I often put up with him when o t hunting. Well, of course, as soon as the murder had been reported, the sheriff, and two or three deputies with a number of townsfolk, had gone out to arrest Handester, and it was somewhere about two O/Clock when Captain Hughes came into the office and sat down. "What's the matter" asked my father, haven't you got that brute yet?" "No", says Hughes looking awful glum. "I went there with a posse of men to get him__ all right, for I don't want any lynching in the town, but-I'll be hanged if we could get near enough to the old sinner to take him. There he sat on his front porch as cool as you please, with a wicked looking old double barreled shot-gun on his knees, and as soon as we showed up had the drop on us right away. I didn't feel like being potted by the old beast, and none of my men did either, so we came away, and left him master of the field for today. Of course I set a guard, so that he can't leave the premises, and I will go after him tomorrow". My father poked all sorts of fun at Hughes at his letting the old Handester call his bluff so easily, till, at last, Hughes got sore. "Why don't you try and get him yourself, if you think it so damed easy" he growled out. ""Caps." I said, "let me have a try at him, what will you give me if I go out this afternoon and bring in Hardester for you?" Handester could put you in his pipe and smoke you and never know he had anything extra in it either." I wanted to ask where he had been put, but the cappps was mad and I did want a try at Handester so kept my temper. "Give me a chance, Caps." I begged. "Just make me one of your deputies, and send me out there, I'll fetch him in."That's rather a fool proposition don't you think" said Hughes turning to my father, "well" says my father smiling, "John generally makes good on his propositions, so as he seems to want it so bad, why send him; at least if he comes back without him, it will take a lot of conceit out of him which is always a good thing at his age." Houghes smoked and thought a while longer, and then at last consented to what I wanted, and made me a deputy "pro term", "and if you get a bullet through you, don't blame me" he growled. I thanks and said I would be careful and take no chances. "Well I started out on my first murder case first stopping at the saloon to get two quarts of their strongest whiskey, which I proceeded to stow away n te buggy. As I neared the house I saw Handester sitting on the porch with his gun at his side. "How der, John," he hollered. "Don't be in a hurry, stop and talk with a fellow". "Sure" I replied. I am in no hurry," What's the news?" "News" Do you know that that fool sheriff was out this morning wanting to arrest me for killing my old woman? Says I'll swing for it. Now I don't say that I had ought to have killed her, but them as says I got to swing for it don't know what they are talking about. Come up here John and talk to a fellow. I ain't had no body to talk to since I killed the old woman" ( e talked about the killing as coolly as he would talk about a pig sticking) This invitation was just what I had counted on getting and I quickly hitched my team and turned towards the steps. "Say," hollered the old man, "got any whiskey?" "Sure, want a drink?" "Want it? My God! I haven't had one since it happened. He was shaking all over by the time I handed him the opened bottle and the first drink reduced the contents to about one half. Then I sat down for a chinning match. After he had got limbered up with the whiskey, I led him on to talk about his shooting. He was always bragging about it to me. After some yarn about it, " I bet you that I'm a better shot than you," I said. "Done". Put up a mark and the best out of three must put up or shut up. Any more whiskey in the buggy Johnny?" "Sure," I replied, Ill get it for you. By this time he had finished the first quart and I quickly handed him the second., then firing up a paper mark on a tree some little way off, I ran back." First shot to you, Johnny" he mumbled, busy with the bottle. "No, the gun is yours, first shot to you. Putting down the bottle, he arrived at the mark and fired. "Your turn now." I emptied the other barrel, then snatching out my revolver, I covered him. "Now, Handester," I said, "You must come with me. I have a warrant for your arrest" He came with me all night and a more surprised man than Captain Haughes when I walked into his offices with Hardester in charge, I have never seen. At Lincoln's first call I enlisted{14 AUG 1861] with a good many other neighbors in Captain John R. Hotallings Co. A 2nd Ill Cav, as a private, and followed the column until the close of the war[actually 3 1/3 years]. In 1864 Captain Jame H. Cartwright- now chief justice of the Supreme Court of Ill. raised a company for the 140th Ill Inft. He was elected Captain, and your humble servant-lieutenant. [I have the original commissioning papers]. After peace was restored I returned to Oregon, Ogle County, Ill, which was still my home. I intended to take up the study of law in the offices of my father, Judge F. G. Petrie, but man professes and God or some other of the other pawns that be, quickly disposed of the proposition, not many of us are fortunate enough to carry through our original propositions. So it was in this case. I was appointed Deputy Sheriff by Sheriff James O'Kane and later served a term under his brother William O'Kane who succeeded his bro as sheriff of Ogle Co. Later I served two terms as deputy under Captain BR Wagner, then I was elected Sheriff of the county and served two terms. During my service as Sheriff and County sheriff in Ill. I had quite a varied experience in tracking and arresting some of the most desperate murders, buglers, counterfeiters, and horse thieves in the state of Ill. One case in particular, I vividly remember, as I bear the marks of it to this day. A bank in Rochelle had been looted of $15,000. I was called to the town and soon got track of the fellow who had committed the burglary. I tracked him to the depot, and found that a man answering to the description of the one I suspected had taken the train to New Orleans at nine O/Clock. I took the three)/Clock for St Louis, where I learned that he had taken passage on the Bell of Memphis, bound for New Orleans, LA. A few hours later, I found myself a passenger on board the "City of Alton" bound also for the same port. As we stopped at the final landing to let off passengers and discharge freight, the Belle of Memphis was just out rounder the corner for Natchez. I followed him that way right down to New Orleans, the Belle of Memphis being always just three or four hours ahead. Now I was well acquainted with the city of New Orleans and the first thing I did when I landed was to go through every backstreet alley and hold out places in the city. I could find neither hide nor hair of my man. I was convinced that he had skipped the boat somewhere and made for Galveston, Texas. I determined to get a good nights sleep and take up the train again. Before turning in for the night, I took a walk around and landed in a saloon on one of the principal streets. I sat down and called for a drink and sat there at the window enjoying the tropical scene outside. The soft moonlight outside, the palm trees, the smell of orange blossoms, the negro women with their turbaned heads, on which inventively were trays of bright colored fruits, and flowers, their sing song voices calling attention to their wares. It was almighty different to the cold winds and snow that I had left only a few days before, and the change and contrast added to the interest of it all. A bell softly jangled, in response a colored waiter appeared with a tray of all sorts of drinks. This he proceeded to take into a private room from which came the sound of poker chips on a polished table. I had been interested in this room for some little time, and had determined to see what was going on in it, but it was closed and green Paisley curtains hung in front of it. This curtain hung from a pulley, and so arranged that the waiter could operate it with his foot. New was my time as the man pushed in with his tray, the pulley came off the rope, I reached up to replace it, and at the same time pushed open the door and looked in. There was my man right before me. He saw me as soon as I saw him, and quick as thought grabbed for his gun which was on the table by his side, and fired. The ball took effect in the groin, and I fell to the floor. As my man made for the door, he had to step over me and I grabbed him by the leg of his pants, and rolling over I got out my revolver and let her go. The ball cur off his ear clean, and he squealed like a wild cat. By this time four policemen, attracted by the racket, had rushed in and were trying to separate us, evidently thinking that it was some kind of gambling row. I was hanging on like grim death, I did not propose to be shot like a dog by a bugler, and then let go after I had him. "Search him, boys" I yelled. "He has the goods on him, and I have a warrant". Dropping my gun, I managed to open my coat and show my star. They searched him all right and found all the money on him that he had taken from the Rochelle Bank, all but what he had used for his expenses down. Well, they took me across the street to a drug store where a doctor extracted the bullet and after ten days in bed I was able to go round on crutches. I took him to the car and chained him tot he boat, for I was taking no chances and as I took him back to the town of his operations, he was tried and convicted and sent up for a number of years. I often saw him in the pen when I took down a fresh batch of prisoners and he bore me no grudge. " "Croppy" the others called him on account of his ear, and "Croppy" served his time, and I met him not long ago. After that I was always being called upon to do all sorts of odd jobs; I had to be "Johnny on the spot" for every doggone thing that happened in that town or county: chicken thieves, jail break ins, horse thieves, etc. I had to trot after them all until I got so tired of the dammed "deputy job", I was ready to quit the blamed business and went west to Dakota thinking to get out of the business. At a later date I will tell you how I didn't keep out of the pesky business.


J. R. PETRIE, born at Mount Morris, Ogle Co., Ill., in 1841, and was the first white boy born in the county. He was educated at the Rock River Academy. He served three and one-half years in Company A, Second Illinois Cavalry, during the Rebellion, and rose from the ranks to Second Lieutenant of Company I. After coming out of the army he served as Sheriff and Deputy Sheriff for several years, and also served one term as Deputy United States Marshal. In January, 1873, he came to Dakota, and located in Bon Homme County, one of the pioneers of the county, and located a farm near Springfield. Sioux City, 100 miles distant, was then the nearest railroad point. At the end of five years he was elected Sheriff of Bon Homme County, after which he was appointed Deputy United States Marshal. He was also serving as Deputy Sheriff. In the fall of 1882 he located in Scotland and soon after was elected City Marshal. In 1900 he resigned as Deputy United States Mashal under Capt. Seth Bullock, and retired to Imperial Valley, California where he homesteaded. In 1910 he was admitted to National Military Home for Disabled Soldiers in Sawtelle, (Malibu), Los Angeles, Calif. It took an actual act of congress to obtain a pension for his services during the Civil War. In 1913 Orilla, his wife, died. In 1916 he married Anita A. Lennox (1867–1930), whose first husband had died without receiving a pension. The idea was that she would have his pension to live on. In 1920 he became paralyzed and unable to do anything for himself. He died in 1921,

He first applied for a pension in 1890. In 1902 he submitted an affidavit of disability. In 1916 he was finally granted a pension of $27.00 a month. This was increased to $38.00 in 1918 and raised to $50.00 a month in 1920. It took an act of Congress!

Sources

  • Year: 1880; Census Place: Bon Homme, Dakota Territory
  • Year: 1910; Census Place: Holtville, Imperial, California; Roll: T624_77; Page: 10A; Enumeration District: 0009; FHL microfilm: 1374090
  • Year: 1920; Census Place: Los Angeles Assembly District 62, Los Angeles, California; Roll: T625_105; Page: 8A; Enumeration District: 140; Image: 1069
  • Illinois, Marriages, 1851-1900
  • Form 389 Dept. of the Interior Bureau of Pensions 16 APR 1915
  • U.S. National Homes for Disabled Volunteer Soldiers, 1866-1938
  • U.S., Civil War Soldier Records and Profiles, 1861-1865
  • The History of Ogle County, Illinois, Containing A History of the County---Its Cities, Towns, Etc., A Biographical Directory of Its Citizens, War Records of Its Volunteers in the Late Rebellion, General and Local Statistics, PORTRAITS OF EARLY SETTLERS AND PROMINENT MEN, History of the Northwest, History of Illinois, Map of Ogle County, Constitution of the United States, Miscellaneous Matters, Etc., ILLUSTRATED, Chicago, H. F. Kett & Co., Times Building, 1878, p. 633.

Family Bible Pages scanned on Ancestry.com: John R. Petrie in Cook Family Tree. This Bible was given to John R. and Orilla as a wedding gift. Scans of the various pages appear on Ancestry. com on the Cook Family tree.

Title Web: California, Find A Grave Index, 1775-2012 Author Ancestry.com Publisher Ancestry.com Operations, Inc. Publisher Date 2012 Publisher Location Provo, UT, USA EDIT REPOSITORY Repository Information Name Ancestry.com Address http://www.Ancestry.com

Title Illinois, Marriages, 1851-1900 Author Jordan Dodd and Liahona Research, comp. Publisher Ancestry.com Operations Inc Publisher Date 2005 Publisher Location Provo, UT, USA EDIT REPOSITORY Repository Information Name Ancestry.com Address http://www.Ancestry.com Details: Name John R Petrie Gender Male Spouse Name Orelia M Ralujh (her married name is spelled wrong. She married Reuban Rowley the night before he left for the Civil War and died 9 FEB 1865 • Memphis, Shelby, Tennessee, USA.) Marriage Date 31 Dec 1866 Marriage County Ogle Comments This record can be found at the County Court Records, Film # 1420755 - 1420756.






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Petrie-595 and Petrie-1028 appear to represent the same person because: The information is the same
posted by Christine Cook
Spouse:Orilla M. FORD

BIRTH 1 FEB 1847 • New York, USA DEATH 21 JULY 1913 • Sawtelle, Los Angeles, CA. She married first Reuben Rowley (–1865) (died in Civil War) John R. Death 21 July 1913 • Sawtelle, Los Angeles, CA Children: Alice Augusta Petrie 1867–1955 Frederick G. Petrie Jr. 1869–1869 Mary Edith Petrie 1870–1870

George Ford Petrie 1872–1952

Mildred Norvilla Elizabeth PETRIE 1880–1954

John Randolph Petrie JR. 1884–1963

posted by Christine Cook

P  >  Petrie  >  John Randolph Petrie

Categories: Los Angeles National Cemetery, Los Angeles, California