09/25/2026
🪦 Meet the Residents - John Nelson Parrish (1827 - 1915)
In Knox County, Ohio there were eighty acres that Enoch Parrish bought from the government in 1823 — paid for at the land office at Chillicothe, with James Monroe's name on the paper. His son John Nelson Parrish was born on it on the twenty-fifth of March, 1827.
Enoch had gone out as a private in the Ohio militia in the War of 1812, and he did not live to see his son grown. When John was nine they read the will in the courthouse at Mount Vernon, Ohio, and it left a wife, five sons, seven daughters and the eighty acres.
The land was to be held whole until the youngest came of age. Then the sons were to have it, and each of the seven daughters twenty-five dollars out of her brothers' pockets. Eighty acres divided five ways comes to sixteen acres a man, with thirty-five dollars owing on it, and no man could live on that.
He came of age about 1848 and married Melissa Ann Baugh the following April. Sylvia was born to them there. Then they went west to Astoria, in Fulton County, Illinois, where he let go of land and took up the tanner's trade.
In July of 1863 a provost marshal's clerk came through Astoria writing down the men. John N. Parrish, thirty-six, tanner, born in Ohio. He was put in the second class, married men past thirty-five, to be called only if the first class ran out. The column headed Former Military Service was left blank beside his name, and it stayed blank.
Ettie May was born at Astoria in 1865. Melissa died in 1872, and the girls were left to their father.
Sylvia married Wallace Holten the next year, and when the Holtens came down to Missouri, John came with them. Ettie May stayed behind a while, keeping house for strangers at fifteen, then she came too, and in 1886 she married Buttermilk Moore and went up the hill above Spring River.
He was eighty-eight when he died, on the tenth of August, 1915, in a daughter's house. Buttermilk went in to answer the questions, and when the clerk asked the name of John's mother, he did not know it.
They buried him the next day at Williams, in the Moore end of the ground, a long way from the eighty acres, among people who made room for him.