I’ve been asked if we ever had any Ayers ancestors which were notorious or famous for reasons that were unfavorable in public opinion.  Well, genealogists call such ancestors the family “Black Sheep”.  Every family has Black Sheep whether they are proud of the fact or not. Normally, I don’t go looking for such information, but on occasion it just falls into my lap as I’m researching other points. Out-of-wedlock mishaps aside, our direct Ayers ancestors seem to come up pretty clean. However, there are some stories about other Ayers relations that I think are interesting, and give a feeling for the times in which they lived. The first two stories involve moonshine making in the mountains…..an activity that many participated in….some even for profit!

Although he wasn’t an Ayers, an uncle to Ira Ayers on his mother’s side named Everett DePew was about 10 years older than him.  Everett had gotten in trouble with the law over moonshine activity and was summoned to Knoxville for a court appearance. He left home in Stinking Creek one day in 1925 to journey to Knoxville about 50 miles away. He apparently was going to walk to the main road and try to get a ride. A neighbor said they saw him near the mailbox on the road, but no one every saw him again after that day. His disappearance remained a total mystery for over 50 years. Then one day around 1980 a man named Douglas admitted on his deathbed to killing Everett. The actual reason is unknown, but probably he was afraid that Everett would snitch on him and possibly others to the law.

In recent times, Haskel “Hack” Ayers has been perhaps Campbell County’s most successful businessman. He is the son of John Wesley Ayers, aka “High Johnny” Ayers, who was Ira Ayers’ third cousin. Although Hack is most prominent now, he likes to tell the story about his father being a third generation moonshiner. In fact he wears it like a badge of honor. The tragic ending of the story is that on October 29, 1943, 7-year old Hack had accompanied his father to Kentucky where they bought a pickup truck load of whiskey and transported it back to Tennessee. Later on, after unloading the whiskey in their barn, state police arrived with weapons drawn.

“My dad made the mistake of pulling out a double-barreled shotgun. Broke into a shootout; he was hiding behind a car. There was 32 bullet holes in that car,” Hack recalls. High Johnny had died instantly, shot through the heart. 68 years later, Hack proudly displays pictures of his father and a Moonshine Still in the lobby of his Hampton Inn near LaFollette. When I met Hack Ayers (who I have since learned is my fourth cousin) in October 2008, I asked him just how tall was his father to get the name “High Johnny”. He said he was 6 ft 4 in .

The last story is not about an Ayers Black Sheep, but it has a tragic ending nonetheless.  James S. Ayers was Ira Ayers’ first cousin, once removed.  He was a policeman in the small town of Jellico, Tennessee on the border of Kentucky when he was killed in November 1909.  He died unjustly trying to uphold the law.  He is buried in the Hall Cemetery near many of our Ayers ancestors and his tombstone is in the shape of a tree trunk.