Special to the Register & Bee By Terry Martin

I first became acquainted with William Adkins about 12 years ago. It is not, however, a mutual acquaintance because Adkins died more than 100 years ago.

The acquaintance with Adkins was made possible by researching the many legal documents spawned by his lifetime of raising a family, exchanging real estate and tending to civic duties. These documents, still on fire in the more musty reaches of the Pittsylvania County Clerk's Office, achieve far more than their intended purpose of satisfying the legal demands of the day.

In Mr. Adkins' case, they offer a glimpse of the man himself, revealing values, and even facets of his personality.

Perhaps no document better illustrates this than a deed, dated June 28, 1847, which Adkins used to convey certain property to his granddaughter, Permelia Adkins.

Permelia Adkins, a daughter of William's son, Owen Adkins, evidently lived with her grandfather in his latter years, no doubt caring for him and performing chore and household duties. This arrangement evidently resulted in quite a bond between the two.

William Adkins was moved to reward his granddaughter for her labor. The deed reads in part, "for and in consideration of the natural love and regard which I bear to my granddaughter Permelia Adkins...I give...unto said Permelia...the following property to-wit, one feather bed (the one she has raised herself since she has been with me) also one other feather bed (the one she uses at present) furniture belonging to both beds, one cow and calf (the one that she calls hers) one sow and pigs, such as she may elect..."

While this is essentially a legal document, a great deal is revealed about the parties involoved. It is not difficult to image William Adkins watching in amusement as his granddaughter tended these animals, probably talking to them, treating them more as pets than livestock.

With a bit of wry humor, he identifies the cow and calf he deed to Permelia as the one she already considers hers. This deed provides a poignant portrait of the affection which existed between William and his granddaughter.

It also provides a glimpse of the rural nature of 19th century Pittyslvania County, Virginia.

My interest in the Adkins family was recently reignited by a telephone call I received from Desmond Kendrick of Martinsville. Kendrick, who is aware of my interest in the Adkins family and himself a descendant of Permelia, was interested in what photographs I might have.

When the conversation turned to what photographs Kendrick had, however, things got interesting.

Kendrick's collection included photographs of both Permelia and her father Owen. The existence of these two photographs was not difficult to imagine, as Owen had lived until 1885, reaching nearly 100 years old, and Permelia until 1912. Both father and daughter lived well past the advent of photography.

I felt of twinge of skepticism when Kendrick told me he had a photograph of William Adkins. While I wasn't sure exactly when photography was available in this area, I was sure of when William Adkins died. His clearly marked headstone showed he died October 22, 1848.

Surely, this was before a camera, however primitive, had found its way into Pittsylvania County. Not so, as Kendrick said. He informed me that photography was available in Danville as early as 1840, or a year after it was invented by Louis J.M. Daguesse in France.

While I may have been somewhat skeptical, I knew I had to meet Desmond and see these photographs. I made arrangements to meet him at his grandfather's store in Henry County.

While these photographs formed the nucleus of my interest, it didn't take long for Kendrick to become a source of fascination to me. It was obvious that this affable young man is quite a historian.

His collection of photographs, documents and artifacts - filling 22 photograph albums - is nothing short of a chronicle of the history of an area including western Pittsylvania County and the eastern sections of Henry and Franklin Counties.

Kendrick seems to know every nook and cranny in the area. Every cemetery, old home place and mill site is in his mind. More than one grave is now identified because Kendrick probed through layers of soil, leaves and debris to uncover the headstone.

It's not unusual for Kendrick to be called on to serve as a tour guide for visitors looking into these sites. He never refuses anyone - even the elderly who need help negotiating the rough terrain often encountered in these trips.

I studied the photograph of William Adkins, particularly the face, looking for clues to his personality that are manifested in many legal documents.

What was also interesting was a photograph of the headstone which shows he died October 22, 1848. He was born September 21, 1760 and lived to be 88. It's fascinating to consider what took place in the man's life. He witnessed the birth of the United States.

He was 16 when the Declaration of Independence was signed. Cornwallis surrendered at Yorktown when he was 21. Could he have voted for George Washington for president? His life saw 11 presidents come into office and saw the War of 1812, the French Revolution, Napoleon's conquest of Europe and the War with Mexico.

Naturally, I was interested in how Kendrick had identified the photograph. The answer to these questions involve another of Kendrick's artifacts. Kendrick owns a photograph album that could be one of the oldest ones in existence.

In this album are found photographs of William, Owen and Permelia Adkins. These tin-type photographs bear the inscription "E.M. & L. Rosteu and Comp. Lithograph, Philad."

Kendrick's aunt, Mamie Reynolds gave him the album. Mrs. Reynolds told Kendrick who the people are in the photographs, but she identified William Kendrick as Owen's father. The album was given to Mrs. Reynolds by her mother. The trail leads back to Mamie's great-grandmother, Permelia Adkins.

It was when Kendrick mentioned the album as having originated with Permelia that I remembered William Adkins deed of 1847. The affection he expressed for his granddaughter Permelia makes me believe she owned one. Is all of this absolute proof that the photograph is of William Adkins? Probably not. Is there room for error in Mrs. Reynold's identification of Owen Adkins' father? Perhaps.

I would argue that much of what we consider authentic history is based on even less authority.