Notes for Julia Buckley Darnell: Julia was a great family organizer and a fine lady. Cousin Mag Evans helped in her eloping escapade. Ancestors include Revolutionary War soldier, Aaron Darnell who was awarded a land grant of the site where Frankfort, KY now stands. Aaron married Jane Railey who was the daughter of John Railey and Elizabeth Randolph (aunt of President Thomas Jefferson). The Randolph line runs through William of Turkey Island, Great-grandfather of President Thomas Jefferson, and other famous figures like Sir Walter Raleigh, Robert E. Lee, John Randolph, and David Meade Randolph. A connection to Robert the Bruce of Scotland is suggested. Also see The Darnell website @: http://familytreemaker.genealogy.com/users/r/o/b/Susan-Robertson-KY/index.html
Julia Buckley Darnell was 5 foot 7 with brown hair and steel blue eyes. Always thin and graceful. Always strict, prim and proper she was a great family organizer and a fine lady. . Quite a cook was she, after RFS pushed her to understudy with his Mom, her Mom, and Grandmothers. She was a fair beauty who had all the boys running in her youth; but something about RFS was irresistible. She was a loving, silver haired grandmother, but at a proper distance. I don't remember her ever holding me or any of my cousins for more than a minute when we were little. Typically, her fury was quick and intense with no one immune to it. There were rules of propriety to be adhered to you know. Like "children should be seen and not heard." The children were seated at the children's table for large dinners, and "eat all your dinner or sit there till you do", she would dictate. Like, "no monkey business when you are with me." When punishment was called for, it was eked out with military regimentation. I recall the "getting of a switch" - but it never was applied with enough force to hurt me. Maybe some of you cousins know some different tales? When we first moved in with her at Erie Ave, she promptly marched my brother and me up to the bathtub for a proper scrubbing. My brother and I remember that she used a heavy scrub brush, but I doubt that is accurate - maybe a fingernail brush for the nails elicited such a fearful reaction and memory in a 4 and 7 year old? One of her quotes to us grandchildren was, "You are better than most people and there is no one better than you."
One early evening, at age 5 or 6, when my dad said I was big enough now and I was allowed to go out in front of the house to the bus stop and wait for my godfather, Uncle John Schulkers, to arrive, I came back very late and without Uncle John who had arrived several hours earlier. Seems that I was too impatient to wait for this wonderful "old side partner" of mine, so after a few minutes (forever in young boy time) I went up the street to the next bus stop thinking that I would get to see him even sooner. The sun was shining so bright and there was just a little chill in the air. Oh!, I was so excited, because this was my father's brother, and he looked and smelled just like Dad, only a little younger and a little bit different; therefore, (and not too inconsequentially), he was the neatest guy in the world to me. He could do neat stuff; heck, he could do anything; and he could do forbidden stuff and Grandma would not even get mad; and he was so funny all the time like my Dad, but he wasn't strict at all; and he had such fancy magic tricks and card tricks; and he liked me better than my brothers; and he knew just everything; and he would teach me stuff; and he was going to take me fishing tomorrow; and everything!!! So I waited a few more eternities, and it seemed he must have gotten lost or something, so I went to the next bus stop to catch him sooner and show him the way home. Oh, where could he be? But still he didn't come and soon I had gone to every bus stop along the way to town to find out what had happened to Uncle John. I made it all the way into the town square and still he wasn't there. Where could he be? Was he in trouble? By now it was really dark, it was pretty cold, too, and the local cop on the beat was eyeing me more and more as he walked by. When questioned, I told that policeman that I was fully authorized to wait here until my Uncle appeared so I could take him home forthwith - for he was now late for dinner, but I would explain it for him so he wouldn't be in trouble. Anyway, I was not allowed to talk to strangers even if they were policemen. After a time, the nice policeman brought me an ice cream cone and so then I figured it would be OK to answer a few friendly questions such as "what's your name, kid", and "Where do you live". The cop called my home and Julia B answered. I should have known there was hell-to-pay because he came back with his hair standing on end. But I was a kid on a mission, duly authorized by the supreme command- my Dad. The cop said my Uncle John was already at my house and I was to come home immediately. Now how did Uncle John get past me? I was watching real hard. But, I was treated to a ride in a speeding police car - honest, he floored it all the way for some reason with the siren blaring, back to 2560 Erie Ave and home again safely. Cool! Wouldn't everyone be proud? Wouldn't my big brother be envious of my siren ride? But just then we arrived at the front door to the unblinking glare of Grandma Schulkers in all her fury- I knew this look, but this time her face looked so sunburnt or something, and she seemed so out of breath!. Everyone was there, but not daring to utter a sound. Not even my Dad was allowed to say or do anything to me. The policeman was curtly thanked and summarily dismissed, and I, the obviously convicted prisoner, was marched, or more honestly, dragged by the shoulder, directly up to bed. "Nice going, bean-brain" my big brother sneered as my knees bumped every step on the way up the stairs. Grandma was sternly uttering, "YOU! - do not get any dinner; Do not say a word; DO not even breathe, etc."; and, as I was set quickly on my little bed, "STAY THERE!!" What the heck did I do? It was Uncle John who didn't know which bus stop to get off at. He was supposed to be able to read minds, you know. Well, I sat there worried and crying that this time the hickory switch would surely taste my deepest blood; and then, not too much later, came a soft knock on the door that opened slowly and a sound of "shh - shh". A hand reached forward and revealed a plate of food, and in another, a drink. I looked up through the haze of my tear stained eyes to see Seckatary and my Mom slipping quietly into my room. I was hugged on both sides by the two most wonderful people in the world. They were both telling me it was all right at the same time. We were smiling and laughing and I was so hungry after my adventure that I ate ravenously through even more tumultuous sobbing, this time for joy, that caused me to chortle some food through my nose. We all laughed at that sight and they held me and talked soothingly to me until I must have slipped off to sleep. My mom was still there in the morning, smiling pleasantly as I awoke. She had not left me.
Later when I was in college, Julia B seemed to have mellowed and gotten more sentimental. She would send for me and my family to be with her whenever possible. Julia B was a charmer till the end. When we moved her from her long-lived home on Erie Avenue to the new nursing home, I was awarded the honor of driving her away although she said she was waiting for lunch right now. Slyly she said to me as we drove off, "You not only beat me out of my lunch, you are sending me away too, aren't you?"
More About Julia Buckley Darnell and Robert Franc Schulkers: Marriage: February/10/1915, Augusta, Ky - Eloped.
Children of Julia Buckley Darnell and Robert Franc Schulkers are:
Julia Buckley Darnell (b. June/07/1894, d. May/11/1984)
Notes for Julia Buckley Darnell: