Bertie Volina Banks was born September 20, 1905, in Stephens County, Georgia. She was the youngest of eleven children and the

only child of Thomas Marion and Sarah Thomason Aderholdt Banks. She grew up in Stephens County in the area where the family

had lived since the early 1800s. Bertie attended Cannon’s Academy and graduated from the State Normal School—former name of

the University of Georgia in Athens.

Job opportunities led Bertie, her parents and other family members, to Charlotte, NC., where John, an older brother, had already relo-

cated. Bertie taught in the Charlotte school system and, in time, met Willard Dixon. Willard was employed by the Southeastern

Railroad Company and later, by the Railway Express Agency. Fol-

lowing a courtship, Willard and Bertie were married August 8, 1929

and remained in Charlotte. Shortly after the birth of their first child,

Willard was transferred to Spartanburg, SC. Later, another transfer

took him to Greenville, SC, where their daughters were born. Willard

continued with the Railway Express Agency, eventually moving his

young family to the country, and Bertie returned to the life she so

dearly loved: farming. She loved the soil and would spend long hours

in the fields tending the crops and caring for the livestock. During

this time their fourth child was born and her family was complete.

Sensing a need to be closer to the city, Bertie and Willard purchased

land on Augusta Road and

proceeded to build their dream

house. During the construc-

tion stage, Bertie performed

the duties of building superin-

tendent and devoting time to

her garden. As the children

grew older, demanding less of

her time, she began working at

Belk’s and later at Ivey’s,.

She always wanted to return to

teaching, but South Carolina

had an archaic law that prohib-

ited married women from

teaching.

Later, as the law was amended

she returned to teaching full

time and taught at East Gantt

until her retirement.

Willard Rodolph Dixon was born November 17, 1901, in Johnson

County, Georgia. Willard grew up in the small community of Tom,

Bertie Volina Banks & William Rodolph Dixon

Aunt Bertie & Uncle Willard

Inside this issue:

More . . .

Aunt Bertie & Uncle Willard

P.2

2009 Banks Reunion in Virginia P.3

Pearl Street

Charles Banks P.4

Family News & Announcements

P.5

The Dress—Jeri Stapleton P.5

A Salute to our Banks Historians

Diane (Banks) Leonard P.6

BANKS Winter—Spring

2009

Married 8 August 1929, the newlyweds pose for a picture -

Bertie in her wedding dress, and Willard wearing his dapper

three piece suit. At Bertie & Willard’s 50th anniversary

celebration, granddaughter, Patricia Roper wore the dress,

and it fit perfectly!

Continued page 2

Winter-Spring 2009 Page 2

Georgia, near Kite, Georgia. His father and mother farmed a 100-acres his mother, Martha Johnson Dixon, had inherited

from her parents. After high school, Willard went to Newnan, Georgia, and attended Southern Telegraph and Railway Ac-

counting Institute, graduating in telegraphy and typewriting. Returning to Tom, his parents drove him by horse and buggy to

Barto where he boarded a train for Charlotte, NC—he had previously spent time in Charlotte, and had met Bertie. In fact,

prior to returning to Kite, and school, Willard had asked Bertie to write him. And just in case she forgot the name of the

community, he had told her to think of the sky, which she would associate with Kite. Bertie did write, but she addressed the

letter to Sky, Ga. But thanks to the alertness of the U.S. Post Office, they made the connection and Willard got his letter from

Bertie, who would become his future bride.

Willard’s first job was with Southeastern Railway Company. The depression took its toll, however, and Southeastern went

the way of many companies of that era: bankruptcy. He then went to work for Southern Railway, which led him to Railway

Express Agency where he remained for 43 years, until his retirement in 1965.

Bertie died October 11, 1981, and Willard died February 2, 1986. They are buried in Greenville Memorial Gardens, Augusta

Road, in the community of Moonville. Thomas Dixon, Lavonia, GA and Charles Banks, Charlotte, NC

Submitted by Jennifer Davis

Aunt Bertie & Uncle Willard kept us

while Mother and Daddy were visiting

Bill, Odessa, Diane and Donna in Puerto

Rico. No one would take the 3 of us

(Sharon, Jennifer and Jimmy Davis) for a

week - but Aunt Bertie! What I remem-

ber most was picking blackberries in her

yard. She had vines that were staked and

taller than I was. She would send us out

with buckets and ask when we got back

what she should make with those berries.

I always suggested pies, and got jelly and

jam instead! She and Uncle Willard were

so good to us, as they always were. I re-

member, too, when Mother and Daddy

would stop by, she would insist we all

stay for dinner. After stretching whatever

into eating some of Daddy’s red hot

peppers by telling her they were a new

kind of cherry Daddy was growing.

She fell for it! And, as soon as her

mouth burst into flames, she started

crying and began rubbing her eyes.

Well, THAT wasn’t in the plans. Her

daddy called our daddy, and Diane

and I were made to eat our own fair

share of the cherries as our neighbors

looked on. We pretty much lost any

chance at Dixon Discipline after that!

It was all Diane’s fault!

Fast forward to

August 31, 1963 . . .

All our relatives were gathered at

Momma & Daddy Banks’ house after

our Mother’s funeral. It was our 12th

birthday, and Daddy handed each of

us a beautiful little box holding our

very own white, leather-bound bible

with soft, onion-skin pages. Even the

dedication pages were already filled

out with our family’s information. A

few years later, Daddy told us that it

was Aunt Bertie who bought the bi-

bles, and had insisted that Daddy say

they were from him. Diane and I both

still treasure our special bibles from a

very special lady.

she had to feed the crew, she would

say flippantly when Mother would

start to help with the dishes "Don't

worry, the girls will get it" and poor

Martha Jane and Volina would be left

with the mess.

Submitted by Donna (Banks) Dodd

It was the late 50’s, and pretty much

common knowledge among us cous-

ins that the Dixon kids were ―spared

the rod‖. Mind you, this was unusual

for that time. Well, Diane and I were

impressed with the idea, and fought

tirelessly to incorporate ―Dixon Dis-

cipline‖ into our own family. That

was around the time we had tricked a

little seven year old playmate of ours

Mid 50’s - Uncle Willard, Odessa Banks (our mother), Aunt Bertie, little Stan Godshall, Bill Banks (our daddy), Jimmy Davis.

Front row: Jennifer Davis, Diane and Donna Banks

continued from page 1

We Remember . . .

Winter-Spring 2009 Page 5

Uncle John

Matthew Banbury (Charlotte), has

accepted a position in Pusan, South

Korea, where he will teach English

in one of the area high schools. He

has settled into his new apartment in

Pusan, within walking distance to the

school where he will be teaching.

Previously, during his senior year

at UNC-Charlotte, he spent a year

in Japan as an exchange student in

their International Studies pro-

gram. Matthew is the son of Jim

and Susan Banks Banbury and

grandson of Charles and Dolores.

Courtney Leigh Cook, was married

to Thomas Wilson Jenkins III on

September 27, 2008 in Williams-

burg, VA. The couple live in Rich-

mond. Courtney is the youngest

daughter of Tom and Sharon Cook,

granddaughter of Irene & JC Davis.

Banks Glenn Byrum, born

28 January 2009 in Corpus Christi,

Texas - 8lbs 4oz Parents - Seth and

Brandi Byrum - Proud Grandparents

Bruce and Jane Byrum - Great-

Great grandson of Viola (Grano)

Banks Byrum.

Aunt Viola

Uncle Groves

The Dress made by

Gertrude Banks Prince

in 1947

By Jeri Stapleton

Mother always made me

a new dress for my birth-

day.. Sometimes I

wanted so much to have

one that was store-

bought. This is a picture

of the one she made me

for my second birthday in

1947. Of all the dresses,

she saved this one, so I

decided to have both of

my girls wear it for a

picture on their second

birthdays... Beth in 1972

and Allison in 1981.

When my granddaugh-

ters, Lauren and Lainie

celebrated their second

birthdays in 2003 and

2007 respectively, I

asked that pictures also

be made of them.

Winter-Spring 2009 Page 6

A Salute to our Banks Historians

This past year, we heard that it is all but certain that our family does not descend from Sir John Bankes of Corfe Castle. I think

we would all agree that it was quite a surprise, even though our family historians have always openly recognized the possibility

since we had no solid evidence to substantiate our connection, nor any solid evidence to the contrary.

Personally, I was a little sad when I heard the news. And, I’m not sure why, exactly, but maybe because it came across to me as

very matter-of-fact, with no build-up to even prepare me. Reminds me of that story about the little boy coming home from

school: His daddy stops him at the door and blurts out that his dog is dead. The little boy is so taken by surprise, and said

that the least he could have done was prepare him a little before actually telling him the horrible news – that it

would have been so much easier for him if he had said something like the dog had been acting funny all day,

had no energy, wouldn’t eat anything, and finally crawled up under the house, etc. So, the daddy apologizes, and a

few weeks later the little boy gets off the bus, walks up to the front door, and his daddy is standing there to greet

him. The little boy asked what was wrong, and the daddy said, “your grandmother came to visit us today, and

suddenly out of the clear blue, she ran outside and started crawling up under the house…”

Anyway, all I could think about was how much time, money, and energy so

many family members had spent exploring from that vantage point, what we

believed to be our heritage. So, Donna and I had a talk about how this new

information, personally and emotionally, affected us - and she also talked to

other family members about their initial thoughts. The responses she received

were pretty much full spectrum. One person’s view was kind of tongue-in-

cheek, saying that she never felt like royalty anyway, and was certain she was

not on a list to inherit any of their fortunes. And then there were those who

thought…‖who really cares? William is William; we just got his daddy

wrong!

Well, I was still feeling down, and needed to talk to someone who might also

have felt betrayed. So, I asked cousin

Elaine her thoughts. First of all, she

said that it was Lanny’s fault for dig-

ging deeper and figuring it all out –

and that’s who I should be mad at!

But, how could I possibly be mad at

anyone who was able to find out the

truth? After all, I, too, had done so

much research up to that point, that I was certain I was about to stumble upon our direct

link to Adam & Eve. Nevertheless, Elaine made the most profound statement after that.

She said it really didn’t matter to her one way or the other because her heritage is, and

always will be, right here in Carnesville –that nothing could ever change that. And she

was right…each of us has our own branch on the Banks family Tree of Life, but if it

weren’t for the trunk being so healthy and sound, our tree would have stopped growing

long ago.

I thank our cousins who’ve invested so much time, money and energy exploring our roots – and using every avenue available to

do so. They are the ones who gave so much of themselves to provide the information needed for the rest of us to feel a wonder-

ful sense of belonging and pride. It was a quest, and it still is. So, no matter what the outcome of our blood connection with Sir

John Bankes, he will always be a part of our Tree. Wouldn’t Sir John and Lady Mary be flattered to know that their legacy has

lived on through our family – and all because we were STUMPED! (Get it—stumped?)

So, speaking for all the members of the Banks family, we salute you for your never ending contributions to our past, present and

future. Diane Banks Leonard 3/1/09

Special Request: The Ralph Banks cemetery needs about 20 ft. of chain-linked fence replaced. If you would like to make a

small donation toward this project, you may send your contribution to treasurer, Rusty Terrell at 1982 North Fairview Rd.,

Lavonia, GA 30553. We appreciate your support!

Do you have something to share for the next newsletter . . . births, graduations, weddings, engagements, great family recipes,

thoughts, stories, memories . . . Let me hear from you!! Email donnabdodd@yahoo.com, or send directly to my home ad-

dress : Donna Dodd, 3425 Spinnaker Way, Acworth, GA 30102. Next newsletter is targeted for August 2009.

Susan and I just returned from a very interesting and enjoy-

able Banks family reunion in Virginia. I am writing a rather

detailed description of it in hopes that you will someday

take the time to investigate your Banks roots as we did.

Our host was Cousin John Sheftall, a lawyer from Colum-

bus, Georgia, who has been very active in promoting the

Banks Family Association and in documenting our geneal-

ogy. He is descended from John, the brother of Ralph

Banks of Elbert County, who went West prior to the War of

Northern Aggression, settled in Columbus, and built the

beautiful ―Cedars‖ plantation. John Sheftall now owns the

Cedars and has hosted two Banks reunions there. John has

restored the Cedars to its original grandeur, and it is spec-

tacular. He did a great job planning and organizing this

reunion.

Our headquarters for the reunion was the magnificent Strat-

ford Hall, the 10,800 sq. ft. ancestral home and birthplace of

Robert E. Lee, located on the Potomac River. Our connec-

tion to the Lee family is that their immigrant ancestor, Rich-

ard Lee, was a contemporary and neighbor of our immigrant

ancestor William Banks, who built Mantapike plantation on

the Mattaponi River in 1660. There were about fifty Banks

descendents in attendance, and we enjoyed seeing several of

our Thomas Marion Banks descendent cousins as well as

meeting cousins from as far away as Colorado, Chicago and

Sarasota..

In 1660, William Banks received from the British Crown a

grant of 700 acres plus 50 additional acres for each person

for whom he paid transportation to the Colonies. The plan-

tation eventually consisted of some 1200 acres. It is located

on a bluff above the beautiful Mattaponi River (pronounced

Mat a po ni’ with long i). Richard Lee’s original plantation

was also on the Mattaponi not far away, as were plantations

owned by the Lumpkin and Braxton families [Carter Brax-

ton was a signer of the Declaration of Independence].

Banks family tradition was that William was a son of Sir

John Banks of Corfe Castle, but recent studies, including

DNA studies indicate that he was related but not a son. The

Banks family owned this land for about a hundred years.

William died in 1709, and ownership passed to Ralph

Banks, who died in 1735. Ralph’s younger son, Thomas,

our progenitor, was born at Mantapike in 1709. He relo-

cated as a young man to Caroline County, VA, then to

Granville County, NC, and finally to Coldwater Plantation

in Elbert County, where he was buried in 1789. Mantapike

was sold to the Brooke family in 1760. The site of the plan-

tation house has recently been subdivided into a residential

development called Mantapike Landings. At the original

landing, there was a wharf where goods were brought in

and the output of surrounding plantations was shipped out.

Within the last hundred years, a vegetable canning plant

was located there, and there is an artesian well, still func-

tional, at the site on the river bank. I have ordered a histori-

cal map showing the location of homes of the Colonial pe-

riod. Interestingly, there is a Mattoponi Indian reservation

across and down-river from Mantapike.

Mantapike is in King and Queen County, which is a very

rural county in the ―Northern Neck‖ of Virginia, 65 miles

long and about 10 miles wide. It contains many beautiful,

very productive farms, growing primarily corn and soy-

beans. The residents are proud that there is not a traffic light

or an incorporated city in their county. It has lost population

every census for over a hundred years, apparently because

there is no manufacturing or other jobs for the young folks,

so they leave..

We visited the King and Queen County Court House site

where our ancestors conducted their business. There is an

original ―tavern‖ at the site where people stayed when they

came to conduct business at the courthouse, and it is now

home for a lovely little museum. The original courthouse

was destroyed during the ―Civil‖ War because a Yankee

colonel and his men came through this area on the way to

Richmond when they were trying to conquer it. The attack

was repulsed, and when the Yankees came back through

there in retreat, the local guard killed them. The father of the

colonel was an admiral on a ship out in the Chesapeake, and

to punish the locals for killing his son, he destroyed the court

house and all its records. A replacement court house stands

on the site.

Also, we visited Mattaponi Baptist Church, where the ladies

of the church provided a magnificent smorgasbord dinner for

us. This is a beautiful brick church with walls three feet

thick, built in 1732 by David Minitree, renowned builder of

many important homes of Tidewater Virginia. In Colonial

times, beginning in 1682 as wooden churches, this was the

Lower Church of St. Stephens Parish of the Established

Church of England where our forbears worshiped, were bap-

tized and buried. After the Revolutionary War, the church

was disestablished and abandoned. It remained unoccupied

until 1803 when the Baptists took it over, refurbished it and

have occupied it since. In the winter of 1923, some parish-

ioners came early on a Sunday morning and built a fire so it

would be warm for the worshipers. When the congregation

showed up, the roof was on fire. They immediately set to

work carrying the altar, pews, endowments including the

pew Bible with the date 1733, furnishings, etc. out into the

yard to save them. The pages of that Bible have been lami-

nated, but are still in use. The church burned completely ex-

cept for the walls, but within a year the Baptists rebuilt it

beautifully. One of the architectural features that I particu-

larly liked was that the transepts can be separated from the

main part of the sanctuary by retractable walls similar to the

top of a roll top desk, that retract into the ceiling. Thus there

can be separate Sunday School rooms in each of the tran-

septs, in the balcony and in the main sanctuary. At one time,

the membership was over three hundred, but now there are

only 18-25 in attendance on a given Sunday.

It was a special weekend of being reminded of the vision,

courage and sacrifice of all those who stepped ashore on this

continent to begin a new life. Little did they know what a

grand country they were helping to establish. It was espe-

cially poignant to be there on a 21st century weekend of

great political debate and financial crisis. May we always

remember our roots – our families’ and our country’s. God

bless us -- one and all. Bob & Susan King

Winter-Spring 2009 Page 3

2008 Banks Reunion Trip To Virginia by Bob King

Winter-Spring 2009 Page 4

porches, to order a dime’s worth.

Meanwhile, all the neighborhood kids gathered at his

wagon waiting to receive a sliver of ice, and waiting to

hitch a ride behind Charlie.

The depression brought about a lot of change in people’s

lives. They learned to live with less, and being creative

became a necessary ingredient for survival. Our next door

neighbors were creative. They turned upstairs rooms into

an apartment and rented it to a nice old couple, Mr. and

Mrs. Gentry. ―Mr. Fred,‖ as we youngsters addressed him,

had a rich baritone voice as well as being an accomplished

organist. He worked part-time at a local radio station, and

rather than spend a dime for bus fare, walked to the studio

each day. And if you tuned your radio to 910 each day at

noon, you could hear Mr. Fred singing and playing the

organ. He preceded the reading of daily obituaries with

his repertoire of hymns. As I think back to the depression

years, I can never escape the memory of Mr. Fred, nor can

I forget the melodious voice of a kind old gentleman sing-

ing ―…Precious memories, how they linger…‖

Pearl Street was but a short walk to the Goody Shoppe,

home of the world’s best hot-dogs and hamburgers.

Mother saved her extra change, and every few weeks Sun-

day night became ―treat night.‖ Hot-dogs were a nickel

and hamburgers a dime, and ―all the way‖ meant chopped

onions, mustard and chili. And I can attest, the walk home

was absolutely tantalizing as the aroma wafted from a bag

of hot-dogs and ham- burgers, wrapped in wax paper, ooz-

ing with onions and chili. If it was summertime, the walk

home even provided entertainment. With radios tuned to

favorites such as Jack Benny or Amos and Andy, it was

easy to follow the comedies as you walked along.

Pearl Street was a neighborhood where kids had their ears

glued to the radio about 3:30 each afternoon. That sig-

naled the beginning of a series of 15-minute radio shows

featuring favorite comic book characters like Terry and the

Pirates, Green Hornet, and Don Winslow of the Navy.

Then there was Saturday night, when a squeaking door

introduced Inner Sanctum Mysteries or drama like Lux

Presents Hollywood.

So whatever happened to the tree-lined street of neat,

frame houses? Or the savory eatery with the nickel hot-

dogs? Or the 15-minute radio thrillers that stirred the

imagination? Time may have caused me to surrender my

youth, but at the risk of romanticizing the past, time shall

never cause me to surrender my memories.

Charles W. Banks, Charlotte, NC

Whatever happened to

Pearl Street, the street

where, in the shadow of the

depression, I grew to adoles-

cence? While we empa-

thize with our neighbors and fellow citizens whose days

begin and end searching for a job, imagine being born at a

time when one in four Americans were out of a job.

That’s a depression.

My earliest recollections of the ―great depression‖ begin

about 1937, at about the age of six. I had an older brother,

who was ten at the time, and a younger brother just begin-

ning to walk. Pearl Street, where we lived, was a tree-

lined street of neat, white frame houses and home to a mix-

ture of white collar, blue collar, and our share of the unem-

ployed. It was a friendly street, where gentlemen tipped

their hats to ladies, and ―yes ma’am and yes sir‖ were inte-

gral parts of a child’s vocabulary.

Our family was among the fortunate. Our father, a fireman

for Southern Railway at the time, worked the third shift

and kept a roof over our heads and food on the table. And

mother had the ability to take a few spices, add a measure

of TLC, and turn the ordinary into the extraordinary. The

depression years were tough on adults, but the birth- right

of resilience belongs to the kids of the 1930s. Few were

hardly aware of the depression or what it meant. After all,

how could you miss something you never had? There was

always a ball and bat and an empty street that doubled as a

baseball diamond; the school playground was a good place

to shoot a game of marbles, and on a hot summer evening

an empty tin can became the centerpiece of a kick game.

The depression brought an outpouring of compassion—

neighbor helping neighbor, going door-to-door if neces-

sary, to collect food for a friend out of work. And it was-

n’t unusual to answer a knock at the door and find some-

one in search of work, just to earn a hot meal. There were

times when our Mother would warm some leftovers. A

large platter of food and a cool glass of milk or tea went a

long way toward filling an empty stomach.

One of the joys of summer, and it was free, was to hitch a

ride on the ice wagon. Our neighbor, Mr. Lanford, worked

for the local ice company and delivered throughout the

neighborhood in a wagon drawn by a horse named Charlie.

Refrigerators were a luxury appliance in the 1930s and the

icebox was a mainstay for refrigeration. As the horse-

drawn wagon made its way through the streets, Mr. Lan-

ford’s booming voice brought the womenfolk to their

Considering the current economic condition of our country, I wanted to re-run the following

piece written by Charles Banks a number of years ago. You’ll see why.