An American Family History: A Memoir

By Claude Phipps

This story begins in 1812 with the birth of John M. Phipps, who had become a mysterious recluse in Shenandoah, Iowa, by age ninety-three. His neighbors assumed he had something to hide in his past. Because he was born in the same Virginia county as the father of J. D. Rockefeller, some Shenandoans thought they might be one and the same. It may have been that all he had to hide was that he joined neither side in the Civil War. It was known that he swapped valuable land near Independence, Missouri, for a place in Farragut, Iowa, in order to move his eldest boys, Matthew and Preston, away from Missouri because he feared they would join the James Gang. Later, in Kansas, when the railroad cut his land in two, Matthew built a brick wall across the tracks. After that, he had to hide for a while. Matthew and Preston were part of the 1893 land rush into the Cherokee Strip of Oklahoma. Preston was later robbed and killed.

We then follow the author's maternal family, the DeWitts of Grant City, Missouri, who were preachers, engineers, and doctors. The two families joined in the marriage of Claude Phipps and Deva DeWitt at the bottom of the Depression in 1932. Claude, who had been promised an art department job at the Marland Oil refinery in Ponca City, Oklahoma, had to accept manual labor when J. P. Morgan bought the company, to keep the family going. Morgan called it Cities Service. Claude's college training was in journalism, and he quickly found this field wouldn't support a family. With grim determination over the next twenty-five years, Claude and Deva saw to it that their son Claude Jr. went to MIT. Part 2 of the story follows Claude Jr. through the Summer of Love in San Francisco and ends in Santa Fe. It's a heroic story that you will enjoy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jun 13, 2023
• ISBN: 9798887930503

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An American Family History

A Memoir

Claude Phipps

Copyright © 2023 Claude Phipps

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2023

ISBN 979-8-88793-054-1 (pbk)

ISBN 979-8-88793-050-3 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Introduction

About the Author

Introduction

Figure 1. Mom (Deva DeWitt) and Dad (Claude Sr.). Courtesy of C. Phipps.

I was born just before the war, and just after the Depression, in Ponca City, Oklahoma. A good time to be born, 1940. A lot of old ways of being still existed. Newspapers were put together with a Linotype machine. And the glorious technological future could just be seen in the distance.

There was no internet, no Facebook, only three ways of communicating: in person, by telephone, or by radio.

I apologize that this memoir must mainly focus on my points of view, but that is something for which I am an expert. Please think of this document not as something irrelevant to you but as a personal history of more than three centuries by someone who lived the last part of it to the fullest. You will meet a bunch of pretty interesting people as we together experience the transition from vacuum tubes and steam trains to computer chips and space lasers.

My mom was a good-looking woman in 1929 (Figure 1). Dad was a stud! He was also a pretty good photographer. My folks were older, forty-two for Dad, and thirty-four for Mom when I was born.

Phippses: farmers, a rowdy bunch

I come from long-lived people. John M., Dad's great-grandfather, lived to 104, and his twin Eli to 108 (Figure 2). I sit up straighter even today when I look at John M. They were both God-fearing, as they said in those days, but Eli added that the only way to live long and happy is to follow the teachings of nature. Sounds good to me! It's said that Eli never needed a physician until his last illness. In the early days of Colorado, he owned the first steam-powered sawmill in Colorado and spent nine months sawing lumber which built the first buildings in Denver. John M. and Eli were twins, born February 14, 1812, in Abingdon, Virginia. That's when the British attacked Washington, and the British and Russians had the War of 1812. An article in the New York Times announced his death December 11, 1916. Sydney Phipps, a Californian on Eli's side of the family, states, The most pronounced characteristic of the Phipps family is their longevity. I hope I share that DNA.

John M. was a pretty sketchy guy. I will quote at length an article in the Washington Times of July 11, 1905, because of what it shows about the man and the times. He was a private man. If there was Facebook then, he would not be a member as I am not today.

Figure 2. John M., left, and Eli Phipps. John died at 104, and his twin, Eli, at 108 years of age. Courtesy of C. Phipps, left, and Sydney Phipps, right. No teethy grins here.

John M. Phipps, of Shenandoah, emphatically denies that he Is the sire of John D. Rockefeller.

It goes on:

No, I am not the father of John D. Rockefeller, not by a gol durn sight.

Thus spoke John M. Phipps, ninety-three years of age, a prosperous farmer of Fremont county, whose identity is a mystery to southwestern Iowa, and who has suddenly sprung into notoriety as the possible sire of the richest man in the world. Phipps is a puzzle. For more than a quarter of a century he has lived on a farm two miles east of Farragut and six and one-half miles from Shenandoah. At present he and his wife are living alone and the veteran's spouse is his junior by only a few years. According to tradition in this part of the State Phipps has studiously avoided discussion of the earlier chapters of his life, and because he has had something to conceal, it has been taken for granted that his secret is rooted in a double life which may not reflect credit upon himself and family. But the facts are wanting except in so far as they may be evidenced by the old man's dramatic story. The unqualified declaration of a magazine writer that the father of the Standard Oil magnate lives near Shenandoah has attracted to this village the attention of the State and nation, and although the conservative opinion here is that the story is a hoax, the presumption on the part of many Iowans that Phipps may be old Rocky seems to thrive on mystery.

William Avery Rockefeller, father of the Standard Oil king, according to the gazetteers, was born in Washington county, Va., in 1812. Phipps declared today that he, Phipps, was born in Abington, Russell county, Va., in the same year. Except for conjecture, fancy and uncertainty and possible facial resemblance between Phipps and the elder Rockefeller as he is painted by tradition, the analogy between the two men goes no further. All else is the open sea. To say, however, that Phipps is being hunted as the father of Rockefeller, that he is besieged by newspaper correspondents and adventurers and that his troubles are real is no fable. The little village of Shenandoah is alive with interest in the case and Phipps' neighbors are wondering what effect notoriety will have on this secretive, notoriety-shunning patriarch.

The article continues to describe the old man's physical strength at ninety-three years.

When seen by an interviewer Phipps was leading two horses and three colts to a turnip patch which he is cultivating. In one hand he held a rope and a neckyoke, in the other a bridle strap, a neckyoke and a clevis. The old man halted as the correspondent's carriage wheeled into his premises unannounced. Great elm trees planted by the alleged Rockefeller sentineled the place, which was picturesque in its sheltered quietude. The Phipps farm looks prosperous, although it does not bear evidences of modern improvements.

When Phipps was accosted for a word of explanation as to who he is and where he has been for ninety-three years the interviewer figured he would drop the clevis and the neckyokes, tie up the horses and sit down. Not so. On the contrary he remained standing during the entire interview and when the correspondent insisted on shaking the hand of a man who had seen ninety-three years and who still managed a farm the venerable mystery placed the halter strings, neckyoke and clevis in his left hand and then extended his right. It was a firm handshake. The big brown member was not palsied and the quiverless lips that spoke good-by were as nerveless as the flanks of the horses which the veteran led.

What is the matter with this man Rockefeller? queries Phipps with a show of genuine solicitude. Can't he find his father? There was no response. Is he sending men out here at his own expense? Still no response. And how much do you get out of it if you find him?" With this volley of questions the field looked tillable and the old man fell a victim to the more serious phase of the interview. Although reputed to be a man of few words and disinclined to talk about himself, Phipps chatted without reserve.

There is said to be a period in your life between 1835 and 1855 respecting which you refuse to talk. How about it? the old man was asked. I do not refuse to tell all I remember, was the diplomatic reply. I may not remember all, but sixty-seven years ago I came to this State with my wife. We were among the first twenty-five families to settle in Iowa. In the party were the Wellses, Williamses, Hickenloopers, Tates, Gillespies, Nolans, two of my brothers-in-law, and a lot of others.

When his attention was called to the fact that William Avery Rockefeller moved from Oswego, N. Y., to Cleveland, Ohio, in 1853, Phipps asserted: Well, my oldest son, Mathew M., was born in Iowa sixty-six years ago, and I did not go to Cleveland. When we came here Iowa was a Territory and we settled in Kishkush county, now Monroe county. Kishkush is an Indian name. I left Virginia when I was eighteen years old. That was in 1830. I went to Indiana, where I married my wife, who was Miss Mary Long, and I spent about four months in Sangamo county, Illinois. Then we went to Iowa and lived eight or nine years in Kishkush county. From Kishkush we went to Decatur county, where I bought 800 acres of land, and then we went to Jackson county, Missouri. After I had sold my Decatur county land I located about eighteen miles from Kansas City, but I did not take part in the civil war and as things got pretty hot down there I returned to Iowa, settling in Harrison county. After the war I returned to Missouri and traded off my land there to a man named Casper. I got 360 acres and $3,000 to boot. The land I obtained in the trade is part of the farm I now own here. I have been in this place thirty-odd years, and I had 800 or 900 acres of land once, but I have given it all away to my children with the exception of about 200 acres.

Phipps says he has six children living. Four dead. His oldest son, who, he says, is sixty-six years of age, lives in Ponca City, Okla., and is worth between $40,000 and $50,000. He also has another son, who is fifty-one years old, and a twin brother, who also lives in Oklahoma.

How old is your twin brother? we asked.

He will be ninety-four years old the 14th of February, was the solemn reply. You see, he is just as old as I am. Phipps is a remarkable character. He works daily and appears to be in perfect health. He attributes his longevity to the fact that he never used whisky or tobacco. It is popularly supposed in his community that Phipps was a copperhead during the rebellion, and that he did not get along with either war party. Stories also are current that his Missouri career was somewhat checkered, and that the old man has reasons for blotting out that page of his life's history, which is entirely disassociated from any connection with the Rockefellers.

However, his reputation for a generation stands unimpeached. It seems that Phipps never has been poor. He is now worth $25,000 or $30,000, having given most of his fortune to his children. He is considered a man of keen business instincts, and talk of money seems to interest him. The man who is hunted as John Rockefeller's father apparently takes genuine delight in saying that his sons are well-to-do.

Occasionally Phipps leaves home to be gone several weeks, but his neighbors profess not to know whither he goes. This fact is seized upon as a bolster for the story that he is father of the oil king and sometimes visits him. Phipps' memory is said to be excellent. His hearing also is unimpaired, but his eyesight is fast falling. He still transacts business in Shenandoah and is said to be amply able to take care of himself in driving bargains. He is noncommunicative, however, and his neighbors of a generation profess to know little about him. It is not claimed that he is cordial or has intimate friends, a fact which is scarcely consistent with his declaration that he has paid in the aggregate $20,000 in his lifetime as surety on bad notes.

The report in a current number of a magazine that the elder Rockefeller was a tall and powerfully built man does not tend to identify Phipps as the oil magnate's father. Phipps, although slightly bent, never could have been a tall man nor is it probable he was a dude, as Rockefeller pere is supposed to have been. Phipps in his prime probably was a man of medium weight and height. He has the thin, pinched lips and elongated chin of John D. Rockefeller and his deep-set eyes seem to read at a glance all they see. When it was suggested to Phipps that he looked somewhat like Rockefeller he replied: No, he is better looking than I am.

But why, he continued somewhat excitedly, should all these people want me to be Rockefeller's father? I have enough money to live on, perhaps, though somebody will get the money if they find the old man. One woman who called on me insisted I was old man Rockefeller. Well, I am not, so they will have to keep on hunting.

Phipps attends the Congregational church at Farragut and always occupies the front pew. In politics he says he believes in voting for honest men. I voted twice for Lincoln, said he, once for Garfield and twice for Bryan. I always hated slavery and whisky and tobacco.

Phipps says the only bet he ever made in his life was $100 on the election of William Henry Harrison as President. He says he won, but gave the money back and vowed never to bet again. Phipps drives alone to Shenandoah and Sydney and works in the winter months often without gloves.

Despite attempts to prove Phipps to be the Old Rocky of Moravia, those who claim to