07/30/2026
The Putney Family - One of Ames' Most Interesting Stories
Some families leave only faint traces in the historical record. The Putneys, however, left a story — one woven with hope, hardship, resilience, and the quiet strength that carried so many early Ames settlers through their most difficult years. After years of talking with Putney descendants across the country and digging through old records, letters, and land deeds, we’ve come to know this family more intimately than almost any other. Their story reminds us that the land we walk today was once the backdrop for lives full of courage, loss, and determination, and in the case of the enslaved, hope for freedom.
A Journey West
In the mid 1820s, a small group of Putneys and Ingrams left Northampton County, North Carolina, carrying with them little more than their belongings and their faith in a better future. David Putney, his sister Caroline, her husband William Ingram, and several relatives traveled west to Fayette County, settling on 50 acres along Bear Creek. Both of David’s parents had recently died, and the family sold their inherited land back home. It was time to begin anew. They arrived during a period of great movement — when families from the Carolinas and other points east poured into the “Western District,” drawn by cheap land and the promise of rich, fertile soil. The Putneys were among those dreamers, hoping the red clay of North Carolina could be exchanged for the dark, productive soil of West Tennessee.
A New Home, A New Family
David remained single until 1831, when he married Elizabeth Harris, a young woman whose brother, William C. Harris, already owned land on Ames. In 1836, they purchased 300 acres near her brother’s farm. Soon, three families — Putneys, Harrises, and Ingrams — lived side by side, bound by kinship and shared hope.
When David and Elizabeth moved onto their land, they brought with them two little boys, Richard and John. A third son, Robert, was born soon after. Eight enslaved African Americans who likely made the journey from North Carolina with the family also lived and labored on the farm — people whose stories we are working to recover and honor in a future post. The land had never been occupied before, and the Putneys began the hard work of turning wilderness into home. By the early 1840s, three more children had been born, making six in all. Elizabeth’s elderly mother, Mary Harris, lived with them too. Their household was full — full of noise, full of work, full of life.
A Decade of Loss
But the years between 1837 and 1847 brought heartbreak after heartbreak. In 1837, David’s brother-in-law William Ingram died, leaving Caroline with three young children. Five years later, Caroline passed away, and David became guardian of her children. In 1845, Elizabeth’s brother William C. Harris died, leaving her a widow with several children. And then, in August of 1847, tragedy struck the Putney home. David died, leaving Elizabeth pregnant and responsible for six children between the ages of four and fifteen. His will, written shortly before his death, described him as “sound in mind but weak in body.” He knew the end was near. He was buried at the nearby Andrews Chapel Cemetery, where he served as a trustee. Elizabeth carried on as best she could. But grief, responsibility, and illness weighed heavily. In June 1850, just three years after losing her husband, Elizabeth died of tuberculosis at only 38 years old. She was almost certainly buried beside David at Andrew’s Chapel. A quiet depression in the earth next to his stone marks the place where she likely rests.
Children Left to Shoulder the Burden
The 1850 census tells a sobering story: 18 year old John B. Putney listed as head of household, responsible for six younger siblings, his 84 year old grandmother, and the family farm. It is hard to imagine the weight on his shoulders. In 1854, a guardian — Joel L. Jones — was appointed for the younger children. By that time, John was 22 years old and may have been starting his own family. And by 1860, the Putney children had left Fayette County entirely. Evidence suggests John may have returned to North Carolina, while the younger siblings moved to Colorado County, Texas, where other relatives may have already moved. The Putney farm, once so full of life, slowly emptied. Eventually other families would try their hand at success on this same land.
The Ames Landscape and Legacy
Many of our followers are field trailers, and you may not realize that when you ride the morning course — from the moment you cross Buford Ellington Road near the breakaway until you cross Turner Road — you are traveling across the land the Putneys once called home. Their farm stretched from National Championship Drive on the north to Buford Ellington Road on the east and Turner Road on the west. There is more to that landscape than quail. There are echoes of children’s voices, the rhythm of farm work, the struggles of the enslaved, the weight of loss, and the quiet courage of a family who tried, again and again, to build a life here.
Soon, we’ll share what we’ve learned about the enslaved individuals who lived and worked on the Putney farm — people whose stories deserve to be told with the same care.
We might note that a more detailed accounting of this and other family histories posted here, complete with source citations, will be included in a book currently in the works. Stay tuned.