THE BRUNSON'S, HARER'S, PACKARD'S, AND RUSSELL'S

My ancestry folows a winding trail through hardy pioneering stock. Immigrants from Holland, Germany, and England. Revolutionary War soldiers, homesteaders, ranchers, farmers, true pioneers participating in the founding and westward expansion of our nation. It seems we made our way to California by way of Pennsylvania, Missouri, Kentucky, Alabama, Texas, Arizona, and Oregon. The first page of this site highlights the Kent section of the family and how they came to be joined with the Brunson's and eventually led to me, and to my children, and grandchildren (who have since returned to Texas and Arkansas). Less is currently known about the Delk side of my lineage, so hopefully more will come on that later.
Shadelands Ranch, Tonto Basin, Arizona, October 16, 1919 From left to right: John Franklin Brunson, James Brunson, Harriett Matilda Greer Brunson, Louisa Brunson, and unknown.			James Brunson, born in .....was the son of ....Brunson and ... ... Brunson. He was married to Harriett Matilda Greer on ....in.... Texas.
James Nathan Brunson			James Nathan Brunson was born July 8, 1855. He married Susan Emily Byas on May 18, 1877 in Kerr County, Texas. They had 5 children, Edna C., James Riley, Delila Mary, Abner Guy, and William Hester. It seems the Brunson's were happy and well in the Kerrville area of Texas until an unnamed family member (probably his Uncle John Brunson, who is reputed to have been the black sheep of the family and to have had a close friendship with John Westley Hardin) got into a little scrape culminating in a shooting, the consequences of which, he decided to avoid by exiting the area in a hurry. A couple of years later a brother ventured out West looking for him and found him in the Tonto Basin area of Arizona. Tonto was relatively unsettled at the time, (still is) and had plenty of room to graze cattle with grass growing stirrup-high (it's barely ankle-deep now). When the brothers were reunited, the one told the other that the shootee had not died in the shooting so it would be relatievely safe for the shooter to return home if he so wished. He so wished. However, when the brothers arrived back in Texas, they told such glowing tales of Tonto that the Brunsons packed up kith and kin, loaded up the wagons, and headed West (once again).
James Nathan Brunson and William Hester Brunson			My grandfather, William Hester Brunson was about 6 or 7 years of age when, accompanied by his parents, grandparents, and other assorted kin, the trek began. He must have been a fine looking lad, as one of the stories he told his children was of how the small wagon train was stopped by a band of Indians who wished to trade some unknown something for Grandpa. Great Grandma Susan Emily Byas Brunson must not have been agreeable to the bargain, as Grandpa Hester continued on to Arizona with the family and was raised on the Brunson homestead near Tonto Creek where he spent most of the remainder of his boyhood days on horseback, chasing errant cattle (a task which he soon tired of).
His life must not have been all work, however, as he found time to successfully pursue the cute little Russell girl whose grandfather ran the local Post Office and General Store. When asked how she met Grandpa, Grandma Nina Henrietta said, "He was just one of the cowboys who used to hang around the Post Office. I said I'd never marry a cowboy, but I did." Well, she did. But again, she didn't. You see, Hester was ready to give up cowboying anyway. He was tired of spending his days in the saddle chasing errant cattle. So, vowing to spend his married days with her and vowing never to climb up on horseback again, he began a life of marital bliss and the long and hard hours of a farmer. Hester successfully raised cotton on the portion of his father's homestead which had been gifted to him, but eventually left Tonto for Oregon where he worked on a berry farm until he could scrape together enough money to homestead a place of his own. And for the rest of his life, the only time he ever climbed onto a horse was once, to chase an errant bull.
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