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~~~ I have been blessed to have an 'original' copy of "David Epperson and His Family of Albemarle Co., VA" handed down through the family.

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John and Elizabeth lived on the 'Epperson Mountain' farm of his father David in 1788 after their marriage 22 Dec 1788 in Albemarle Co., VA.

John was a soldier in the 'Revolutionary War', serving in the 14th Virginia Regiment with his father, David. After the War John and Elizabeth were known to be living on the 'Epperson Mountain Farm' in Albemarle Co., VA in 1799.

"David Epperson and his Family of Albemarle Co., VA", Edna Epperson Brinkman, published 1933; Page 27:

Their home was a plantation of 400 acres with two houses and several smaller outer buildings. This property had been conveyed by 'Patent' from the 'British' Government unto Charles Lambert, July 14, 1769; and it was executed by Baron de Botetourt, Governor of the then Colony of Virginia. John and Elizabeth sold their home Nov. 28, 1799, to "James Durrett" who gave it to his son Richard Durrett, in his will of 1822. (Memorials for 'Durrett' are listed in the Cemetery where David Epperson is buried).

In his father's will, John was bequeathed one-half his father's property. He sold this share of his inherited property to his brother, Charles, on 17 Apr 1800, stating in the deed, "It being all the lands left to the said John, by his father's will". Having disposed of all their property John and his family then moved to
Kentucky in 1800.

In Lincoln County, Kentucky, we find a record of John Epperson's death in 1817.

Upon studying the history of the 'Walton's' TV program I found the origin of the story was in Schuyler, Jefferson County, Virginia. My Epperson family lived in St. Anne's Parish, Albemarle County, Virginia.... Both being in the
Blue Ridge Mountains... Epperson's lived 20 miles SW of Charlottesville... The 'Walton's' home was 20 miles East of Charlottesville...

"The Story David Epperson and his Family of Albemarle, Co., VA" Page 21

"The Old House" Bless it's old heart, if we could count years as it can, we too might be peaceful and restful. But our lives are so short, we come and go so fast, no wonder at times the old House seems looking down on us with sadness; for surely the graveyard in the meadow nearby tells the story of man's short existence. The happy, merry people whose voices once made the walls of the old House ring rest there under the myrtle and boxwood, watched over by the nightingale and whip-poor-will. The old headstones, moss and ivy covered, lean down toward their dead lovingly, as though wishing to get nearer to them."