OLD FRIENDS

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My heart is full and running over. It's 3 a.m. Jan. 9th 2012. My mind is going over all the sweet memories of yesterday. There are not words to describe the love that I experienced in being with old friends.

Let me back up in time--about twenty five years ago-we left Faith Evangelical Free Church, in Tempe, AZ to live in south Phoenix. Through a series of circumstances God put on our hearts to move there and to find a mostly black neighborhood in which to live. He didn't give us a lot of details on what our ministry would involve! Sound familiar?

We (Lynn and I) felt a lot of sympathy for Abraham and many other characters in the Bible who had taken more drastic steps than this. Reading the Bible from a new perspective, we saw a large number of individuals who were asked to follow the Lord by faith without fully understanding what the point was.

I took a job teaching Elementary Music in the Roosevelt School District. Lynn did an even more drastic change--from pastoring a church to working as a custodian in that same school.

Looking back, the school was a good experience. At the time it was a difficult adjustment but we loved the "mix". Teachers and students were about evenly divided of Blacks, Hispanics, and Whites. God was pruning and preparing us with the school of hard knocks as well. On one hand it hurt and on the other hand we were loving it and underneath there was a reassurance that this was where we were supposed to be.

Lynn already knew a few in the Black Community as he had been teaching at a very small school,(less than a dozen young men). This new ministry was called Canaan Bible Institute and was started by Lee Montigue. It was started to train young men for ministry,particularly pastors in the Black Community.

As a result of these contacts we began attending Salt of the Earth Church.
This was an all black church of around 30 people attending. The pastor was a sincere man who preached the Word. We didn't know just how the Lord might use us but as we got acquainted it became obvious that our gifts might fit in to the Body there. They graciously accepted us.

Lynn was able to teach the Adult Class there as well as being a servant fitting in to help in whatever way seemed necessary. I had one of the most joyour experiences of my lifetime leading a Children's Choir. Evelyn Oakes and I worked well together not only in choir but also in our Neighborhood Kid's Club that we held in our home. As a result she is today one of my very dear friends. Oh what beautiful people that we came to know and love during those years.

That is why I was so pleased when I received an invitation to come to Josiah Oakes wedding. This was Isiah and Evelyn Oakes son. I was sure I would see many that we knew and loved. I did, and spent a joyous few hours together after the ceremony. Indeed, old friends seem to have a special place because of the happy times and the sad times we have experienced together.

It has often been said and is so true, heaven will be a wonderful reuniting of friends and family and especially our Lord Jesus who helped to seal these friendships.

"Many, O Lord my God, are the wonders you have done. The things you planned for us no one can recount to you, were I to speak and tell of them they would be too many to declare". Psalm 40:5

Many blessings and love to all my friends, old and new!!


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Could it be?

Grandma Rita's Ramblings

:Yes, it’s true! Today I’m 84! I’m actually feeling great! Other than cataracts, profound deafness and a bum knee, I haven’t a thing wrong with me!

I attribute being able to make it this far because my Creator God has allowed me soooooo many wonderful blessings. One blessing is that I owe my good health to my parents. I know, I’ll be the first to admit that in some ways they were not perfect, and when the kids get together sometimes we tend to be quick to point out these imperfections! Yeah, I’ve been guilty. I would guess most offspring would like to point out the dumb things their parents did. There seems to be less of that once we become parents.

Some in our day would frown on our “unhealthy eating habits.” In the summer, almost every day we had fried chicken fried in lard. I drank lots of unpasteurized whole milk and had thick unpasteurized cream on my oatmeal in the mornings for breakfast. Whipped cream cakes and homemade ice cream made with raw eggs and cream were often served on Sundays or Holidays. Garden vegetables including corn on the cob were seasoned with butter and salt.

In the winter we enjoyed pork sausage, pork chops, pork roast, and many times accompanied with fried potatoes also fried in lard!! :0) In case you are wondering, my parents both lived to be 90 and 94.

I must admit that my parents were abusive! They expected me to work when I wasn‘t attending school. Twice a day I helped with the milking, gathered coal and corn cobs for heating purposes, gathered the eggs from the henhouse, and other chores that were typical to farm life. In the summer I learned to run the old John Deere and Chevrolet truck. I picked up milo and/or corn by hand and threw in the wagon pulled by a team of horses. I helped in the wheat harvest,--I learned to kill chickens and cut them up etc, etc. It was all tough work but the strange part was that I didn’t realize how mistreated I was!

Instead of a proper education, I had to go to a one room school house where the teacher taught all eight grades! There were very few books-the bare minimum texts. The only reason I learned anything at all was that I heard it all over and over again.

I’m guessing by now you are feeling real sorry for me and are wondering how I ever made it to adult life! The hardest part was getting through those cold Nebraska winters . The outhouse was some distance away and sometimes we walked through snow banks to get there. We had no central heating--rather a pot bellied stove and wood and coal was used for the oven range for cooking. And no electricity!! Think of that!-and mark down in one day how often you use electricity. We had only gas or kerosene lamps! And the hardest was walking to school 1 ½ miles in the snow banks!

I must tell you that it’s a wonder my lungs are in good shape after living through the dust storms of the 1930’s in NE. Depression? I laugh to hear the word used so flippantly as none can compare to the 30‘s. Being quite young, the hardest part was seldom getting a nickel for an ice cream cone! When I did, it was such a special treat.

Yes, when I think about it, -----it’s quite amazing that I’m here to tell about it!

"SMITTY" IN RETROSPECT

As I was visiting with my friend Lynne last night I realized again all the interesting things that have happened during the months of June and July, 2010,- the last two months of Smitty’s life. Sometimes it takes a while to process it all and when you do you see all the ways that God was behind the scenes planning Smitty’s departure from this earth.

Let me take it chronologically starting with Saturday evening June 6th. The scene was a steak house in Hooper, Nebraska and the occasion was a celebration of Smitty’s 90th Birthday. Much in keeping with his style he decided to throw a big party inviting friends and relatives from near and far away to a steak dinner at his favorite restaurant.

Smitty has lots of relatives living in less than a hundred mile radius. Add to that many more from various Western States. And add to that many friends who aren't relatives from near and far. Although he and Lois had no children of their own, he was uncle to gobs of nieces, nephews, and to their children. I wish we had counted how many! The final count that evening in Hooper was 100!! I believe three--fourths were related in some way! What a celebration it was!!

Smitty's three brother-Elmer, Raymond, Ervin

After everyone’s tummy was stuffed with the best steak that Nebraska could produce, Smitty’s niece, Cathy Jacobsen, the MC for the evening, with the help of others in the family, had planned a drama of his life. We enjoyed reminiscing and I know Smitty and Lois did too!

Both June 6th and 7th were days of celebration as more family members who couldn’t make it for the party came the next day to the house. I was pleased that my family except for Howard, was able to spend time on the 7th.

But by Wednesday all the relatives from any distance away had left and things were getting back to normal. As we said our goodbyes none of us realized what was ahead in less than a month’s time. Smitty would suffer a severe stroke which would ultimately take his life.

He passed away on Wednesday afternoon July 21, 2010 at the Oakland Regional Hospital in Oakland, NE where Lois had worked as a nurse 25 years ago.

It happened in the night early Friday the 16th. On Saturday we were told that he might not make it through the night. Ila in California and I in Arizona immediately made arrangements to leave. We so much wanted to be support to Lois. By Sunday we were on the plane headed for Omaha. Ed was already there and met us. We went directly to the Oakland hospital.

The only plane we could get within reason was to arrive at 11:30 Sunday night. Oakland is over an hour’s drive from Omaha. When we arrived at the hospital Smitty’s nieces, Kay and Linda, were there--and Lois. They had been up all of Friday and Saturday nights and continued to keep vigil. Kay, a registered nurse, and Linda, both helping to make Smitty comfortable as possible.

Smitty could not talk or swallow. He was able to hear almost to the end and communicated by ever so slight a nod of his head. He held on to Lois’s hand tight day and night almost to the end. When we got there we talked to him and he nodded that he knew we were there. I took his hand for a few minutes and it was obvious that he knew it wasn’t Lois‘s. When she came back and took his hand he showed clearly that he knew the difference as to whose hand it was!

For the next three days the room there was busy with hospital staff, dozens of family members, and some neighbors and friends. They recounted experiences they remembered in their association with Smitty. Brothers, nephews, nieces, aunts, cousins etc. and etc. The hospital staff was very gracious! Although Smitty couldn’t respond, I believe he knew much of what was going on.

We prayed over Smitty, read Scripture, his brother Raymond had asked sometime before if he was sure of his salvation and he said he was. There were several nurses in the family and at various times fussing over him and encouraging Lois.

Hospital staff was showing their concern in different ways. Kitchen ladies sent food up to the room when they thought appropriate. It was sweet to see how much they valued this couple.

Smitty and Lois’s pastor and neighbor whom they so much loved was unfortunately away on vacation and unable to be reached. However, it was a blessing to have Steve Holden, pastor of the Covenant Church agree to help out. This turned out to be one of the blessings I mentioned above!

When he entered at the hospital room on Monday afternoon there were an unknown number of family members in the room--he didn’t know any of them. Since he never met Lois and Smitty before, he asked each one to tell him their relationship to Smitty and to tell him some of his good qualities. After going around the room, he talked of various things, offered to help in any way he could and read a passage from the Bible and left. All that took a couple of hours and in the ensuing days he spent many more hours--getting to know us --and ultimately after Smitty’s death, making plans with Lois for the funeral. All the family was impressed with his loving caring way--ministering to the living, and grieving.

Oakland is an amazing Community! At a time like this, time didn’t seem to be important. This was especially true of their doctor.

For instance, I think it was Monday night when she came in to the room. None of us, especially Lois had slept much . There were about eight of us in the room. We knew things were only getting worse. No one was saying much. The room was quiet and only one soft light shone. Doctor Martin came in and sat opposite of Lois. In the kindest way possible told her that we were at a crossroads--meaning IV wasn’t being that effective and there was no progress going on--and a decision would need to be made as to whether we stopped the IV or exhilarate greatly the treatments. She did not assure us that this would help and would only extend the dying process!

Naturally, this was a hard decision. I think all in the room were thinking what would be the right decision if it were ours. In that quiet moment Lois looked around the room and asked what we all thought was best. She said she was quite sure she knew what would be Smitty’s desire. We all affirmed that she was making the right decision to stop the IV.

Then was the long wait--on Wednesday afternoon at 4 p.m. he very quietly breathed his last.

The next two days were spent in meetings and preparations for the funeral. So many people helped. On Saturday a.m. at 10 a.m. many relatives, friends and neighbors gathered at the Lutheran Church on Main Street to show their love. Pastor Steve’s message was not only giving tribute to Smitty but more importantly honoring Jesus, the one in Scripture who so compassionately and tenderly showed his heart for the grieving.
This is what he read at the service--(click on it for larger print)

The grand finale, was just before the benediction when my brother, Ed, sang “The Lord’s Prayer”. It was very soul stirring as he reached the ending climax of this great prayer of our Lord’s --”Thine (Jesus Christ) is the Kingdom, and the Power, and the Glory FOREVER! A-MEN!

The burial was at the Emerson, NE cemetery where many of the Messerschmidt family are who have gone on before.

That was Saturday--and on Tuesday Ila and I were on the plane to return home. A little extra blessing was that by "coincidence” we were on the same plane coming and going home. We both flew to Phoenix and then she had a connecting flight to Oakland CA Ed would stay a few more days to help Lois take care of business. Someone has said, “A ‘coincidence’ is just when God chooses to remain anonymous!" He must chuckle when he sees how surprised we are, and delighted when He sees that we recognized it to be a gift from Him!

Lovs and our prayers will be with Lois. I can’t tell you how strong support she will have both from family and her many friends there in Oakland. For that I can add another blessing to the many that I have mentioned above!

Second Mile People I Know

GRANDMA RITA’S RAMBLINGS

Second Mile People

“JENNIE”

To My Grandkids With Love,

Jennie was my Mother-in-Love (your Great Grandmother). The name given her at birth on December 19, 1902 was Jantina Terhark. She was the youngest of thirteen children. Her parents were born in the area of Beerta, Holland. Four of the brothers came to America in the late 1800‘s. They were Ben, Ralph, Henry, and Frank. Jennie’s father, Roelf (Ralph), was one of them. They were all married and had families. They settled in the area of Northwest Iowa and Southern Minnesota where almost everyone spoke Dutch and belonged to some brand of the Dutch Reformed Church.

When Jennie was young she spent much of her childhood helping take care of children-nieces and nephews of family members. The “Terhark Geneology” Book that I have registers very large families. Sister Fanny and husband, John Mulder outdid them all. They had 16! In fact, Jennie was helping one of her sisters that had a new baby up in Park Rapids, MN when she met her soul-mate and love of her life.

At the age of 18 Jennie became the bride of Howard Manlove and of course she then became Jennie Manlove. He had a job at the Post Office. They met at a Church Meeting. After one year they decided on marriage. If you read between the lines and use your imagination as I have been doing, the marriage might not have been that simple. I know that I am getting off on speculation rather than known facts.

I would imagine this caused a bit of a stir back home in Little Rock as Howard’s ethnicity did not match Jennie’s nor did his faith! Howard was of English stock whose ancestors left England during the great persecution of the Quakers in about 1668. These Manloves landed in the Cheasepeake Bay area. They were as much English as the Terharks were Dutch!

I’m sure Mom and Dad Terhark spent some sleepless nights over their youngest child! Howard had only recently become a Christian in the Baptist Church! Besides Howard not speaking Dutch and not being of the Reformed Church Doctrine, they were quite young and knew nothing of each others background! Like Tevia in “Fiddler on the Roof” tradition had deep roots in this family!

Did Howard ask Jennie’s father for his blessing on their marriage? I don’t know. Probably. Later, Jennie would chuckle at the times that Howard would go to family reunions and everyone but him was speaking Dutch! Being quite the conversationalist, it made him pretty disgusted at their insensitivity to his situation!

When I was browsing through the above mentioned geneology I found a picture of the whole Ralph Terhark family-all eleven of them ( two had died when young) standing by their spouses. I found Howard and Jennie Manlove right in the middle of this large group of relatives, all Dutch names. The name “Manlove” didn’t quite fit. Jennie definitely married “outside the fold”. I think that took courage!

Their first child, was your Grandpa Lynn. He was born in Park Rapids on July 2, 1922
The other five siblings came during their years in Hibbing, MN. This was an iron ore mining town in Northern MN After firstborn, Lindley D, there were twins, Don and Donna, then Gerald, Juanita and Marilyn.

Howard worked in the mines and went to school nights to get his Civil Engineering Degree. This resulted in a job change and eventually a move to St. Paul MN There was always a struggle to keep food on the table for their six kids and guests. Jennie, now called Mom, had the ability to serve very tasty meals with little money. Even so, guests were always welcomed to their table as Mom was gifted with hospitality.

On Sunday, students attending Simpson Memorial Church who were from the St. Paul Bible School were often recipients of Mom’s cooking and the love of the family. It seemed that to Mom it was a delightful challenge to be able to stretch the dinner for one more person. This was a special treat that St Paul Bible School Students never forgot.




Juanita’s (child # 5)-Childhood Memories of her Mom.

“My first recollection of my Mom is sitting quietly with my doll while she had her devotions after the big kids went to school. She would sit over the steel grated opening that was over the coal furnace in the basement. It was the warmest place in the house. I can remember her doing that each morning before she started her work.

Monday was washday, Tuesday, ironing. She would have a great big clothesbasket with sprinkled clothes and spent most of the day ironing. I was so glad when I got big enough to do the handkerchiefs and pillow cases.

Another thing I remember most about Mom was the absence of yelling at us. I’m sure there were times she raised her voice, but I remember most that she was always whistling around the house and was pretty calm even when we had so much company.

Lots of the kids friends came to the house where they always felt at home and on Sundays of course we usually had some students from St Paul Bible School. Dad always peeled the potatoes the night before and helped with the younger kids Saturday night baths.

Speaking of Mom never getting mad brings to mind the one time I remember her getting really ticked at me. She heard me (the shy one) calling my best friend Barbara, a “big poop”! She rushed out of the house and brought me inside and washed out my mouth with soap! I think it was Ivory-not so bad.

I remember one day seeing my Mom and Dad hug and cry because they had to punish my brothers because our renter (a single man) had tattled on them and they had to punish them to save face although they felt it wasn’t justified.”

For the most part life was at it’s best. Mom loved providing loving care for the family even though many times that meant double duty as Dad Manlove often had to be away because of job responsibilities. And even though the family “lived on a shoestring”, it was seemingly a happy and peaceful time in their lives.

This all changed abruptly on December 7, 1941. World War II was as much a shock to the Manloves as it was to most in our nation. There would be testing times ahead. Mom’s young boys were just the right age to serve their country. Lynn went in to the Navy, Don went in to the Army. Jerry also went in to the Navy. Later Karl Alteneder (Navy) became a part of the family as he and Donna were married.

And because Dad had always felt bad that he wasn't accepted in the military in the First World War, he so wanted to do what he could for his country that he enlisted in the Minnesota National Guard!

These were tense times for Moms of servicemen. As most mothers did, Mom prayed that she would never have to hang a Gold Star sign in the window of the Manlove home. That would indicate that someone in that home had been “Killed in Action”!

Mom prayed as she never had before. She met with a group of ladies that met regularly to pray for their sons and other loved ones in Service. Sometimes weeks and months would go by without hearing from anyone. It was so different then. There were no phones, no e mails, no Skype. You waited and prayed for weeks and sometimes months for a letter saying that all was well. These were four years when ones faith was tested as never before.

Then that day finally did come in 1945 when all four of these young men returned within a short time of each other. They left as young “boys” and returned as quite mature young men. Each was anxious to get on with their lives! Can you imagine the joy of that household and celebration of God’s faithfulness when the last one walked in the door? That old house must have rocked!

Things went along pretty smooth for a while. There were marriages in the family and the Baby Boomers were coming right and left. Grandma Manlove was now having the time of her life. By the way, it wasn’t until years later that they were called “Baby Boomers”.

However this joyous time was soon to take on a different hue.

It was in the prime of life that Mom’s sweetheart of many years, Dad Manlove was found dead in his sleep at a hotel room close to where he was working. The year was1952. That totally changed Mom’s lifestyle. She had always been the homemaker and caregiver to her family and now she had to get out and find her first “real” job. Marilyn was still in High School, living at home.

Here is what Juanita recalls about this time in her Mom’s life. “After Dad died and left Mom a widow at age 49, I remember how faithful the Lord was to provide her with a job she loved. She was Salad Cook at Midway Hospital and got an apartment near the church, (she didn’t drive then). I’m sure these were very difficult and lonely days for her. I never heard her feel sorry for herself but just relied on her Lord.”

Grandpa Lynn and I were living in Texas at that time so being so far away we didn’t know much of what she was experiencing. Although I had known Mom since before we were married in 1949, yet it wasn’t until later that I spent more time with her and I realized what a “Second Mile Person” this lady was. She seemed to be strong in weathering the storms of life that came her way.

It was about four years later when Mom’s life was to take another turn. This was a happy turn. She had known Abe Bronner for quite a few years because of their activity in Gideons International, a worldwide organization for business men and women who distributed Bibles in Hotels, Schools, prisons and other places. Dad Manlove was President of the Minnesota Chapter of Gideons and Mom was Women’s Auxiliary President for a time.

Abe, a widower wrote Mom a letter from Hawaii and asked if he could visit her when he returned. He wanted to take her out to go with him to the State Fair!

This ultimately led to a wonderful marriage (in 1955) until his death (in 1970).

So now what was next? The days following are when I got to know Mom best.

Having outlived two husbands Mom spent much of her time in later years with her “children” and “step-children” and grandchildren. We always looked forward to her coming to Arizona. She would spend a few months in the winter with us.

At that time we were very busy, Our kids were teenagers, your Grandpa Lynn was totally involved in starting a new church and we were doing a lot of entertaining. There were church people, college students, and at times visitors from the North (Snow Birds) who experienced meals, overnights or stayed with us for a period of time.

And Mom fit right in to the situation! She loved the Hub-bub, it seemed. Most of all she could practice her gifts of helps and hospitality. She just worked right alongside of me. You might say we were a team! At the mention of entertaining twenty guests for a Sunday Dinner, her juices started flowing. What to serve? "I can fix this or that-- sticky buns, pies, cookies, or whatever might be appropriate. Let me help buy a roast". When everyone arrived she was right with me doing whatever needed to be done. I would just say the word and it was done. She was truly a life saver for me during those busy years.

It was her service to the Lord and for the Lord. She wasn’t going to be put on the shelf after all. There were times when I was so tired I thought I would drop but watching her and her energy would energize me. I shall always cherish those days.


There were a few tense times too. Long before we were in Arizona I remember hanging some sheets on the line and she tried to tell me there was a better way! She hit the streak of stubbornness that was in me and I couldn’t see but what my way was just as good as hers!

When I went back to teaching in Tempe,AZ I was quite late in getting home one evening. I had stopped to do some major shopping. She and your Grandpa Lynn were both waiting for me letting me know they weren‘t very happy with me. They didn’t mind my being late but were ticked that I hadn’t called to let them know! I had to eat humble pie and admit that I was in the wrong!

And then when she was 70 she wanted to learn to drive. Since none of us felt up to the task we hired a teacher. I so respected her for wanting to do this but we all were worried. It turned out to be a good thing though when she later lived in Iowa. She was able to go down country roads to visit relatives or friends. And she could go for groceries for herself.


A few Sundays ago one of our pastors talked about “Second Mile People”. His text was in Matthew 5, “If someone forces you to go one mile, go with him two”. I later started to think about "Second Mile People” that have influenced my life. Not very many I know that are famous or outstanding as some might think, but people who willingly and gladly went the second mile even when it wasn’t understood or appreciated . Going the first mile is doing something that you are asked to do or told to do, going the second mile is perhaps doing an unpleasant task and going beyond because it was a sacrifice of love.

I could name a few that fall in that category but one stands out to me and that was my Mother-in -Love, Jennie Terhark, Manlove, Bronner!
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P.S I want to thank Jerry and Juanita for their help. If I didn't get some of the facts right, please let me know as I can always edit it. Some time ago Jerry wrote an article and included a quote from Harvey Cox's book called, "Journey of faith."
I liked it so much that I want to share it with you as it seems appropriate to this writing.

"No one's faith journey begins at birth. It starts back eons with the mothers and fathers of our great grand-mothers and great grand-fathers, and before. Our faith seeps into our corpuscles carried on the songs we hear before we know what the words mean. It enters us with voiceless grimaces, smiles, and distant looks, whispered secrets, tics, smells, stories, all incorporated into our tissues before we are aware of it. It comes to us bound up with caste, and class, with color and gender, with language and cruisine. We all meet ourselves, as Kirkegaard once put it, 'on a ship already launched. a journey already underway".


MOM and her kids in 1982.Front Row: Juanita, Marilyn, Mom, Donna. Back Row: Don, Lindley (Lynn), Gerald (Jerry)

NEBRASKA NOSTALGIA

GRANDMA RITA’S RAMBLINGS



June, 2009

To my Grandkids with Love


Kathy Murphy, my niece wrote a response when I announced that I would be attending a party for a lady, a distant cousin of mine, celebrating 100 years of life. It was a valid question! She asked, What does one do at a 100th Birthday Party? That is a good question that I will attempt to answer in the next page or so.

Before I tell you all about it I want to explain to you who the honored guest was. Her name is Leona Paustien and she lives in Wauneta, Nebraska, a small prairie town in southwest Nebraska. She has a nice home there, mows her sizeable lawn, keeps her Buick in good shape, (washing and cleaning it) and drives it in the area when the occasion arises that she needs to. Otherwise, if it’s a trip downtown and a good day she might walk!

Leona has very firm convictions and believes in speaking up and expressing them when it seems necessary to do so. Leona writes with beautiful handwriting, her letters are long and newsy. She always gives thanks to the Lord for all her blessings. She has outlived three husbands!

It was in one of those letters that I received from her that she mentioned that on May 4,2009 she would reach her 100th Birthday! This was a surprise to me and I soon got on the phone to sister Ila in California. After discussing the letter we agreed that this was a big event and it would sure be fun to be a part of it.

Ila is always ready to go back to our home town. In fact she still takes the “Wauneta Breeze” just to keep up on people and what they are doing. She especially enjoys the "Forty Years Ago" column.


Anyway, she said she was quite sure that brother Ed in Denver area would like to go. Well, from there things developed fast as she found some fabulous airline tickets to Denver that we just “couldn’t pass up”. Ed said he would drive his car to Wauneta so things just seemed to make sense that we should make this trip to our home town where we grew up, and help Leona celebrate her birthday. We found out that her daughter Joan, was planning a big party at the Senior Center in Wauneta and that everyone that knew Leona was invited. (That would be the whole town of 8 or 900.)


We arrived on Saturday. It was 2 p.m.-good timing! And here is where plans took an unexpected turn. We were told that Leona had fallen just two days before the party and broke her hip, injured her shoulder and was in the hospital! They said they decided to go ahead with the party as everything had been purchased and so many had been invited.

Joan’s daughter is a professional Party Planner. Thanks to her expertise the room was so beautiful-I can’t describe it. If I did try it just wouldn’t do it justice. Best of all there were hundreds of pictures we could look through. Each one told stories of the past. Since we were distantly related we were able to identify many. It seems that our Grandma,- Maude Morrison Nesmith, was a sister to Carrie Morrison Buffington, Leona‘s mom. If I have it figured right that made Leona our mom,Nellie Miller’s cousin and she would be our second cousin, right?! Don’t waste a lot of time trying to figure that one out!J


The most interesting album was one that had several pictures of my brother Dale, that died when he was eight months old. Leona says that she helped my mom at the time of his death. He died with some kind of stomach disorder which I’m sure would not have been fatal in our day.


Even though we didn’t see Leona that day we did see many old friends, neighbors of my Grandma Miller, and people from our high school classes. Lois, Vara, Ed, Ila and myself all went to high school there. It was the closest high school from where we lived, nine miles south. That night we were invited to the delightful meal that only Nebraska cooks can come up with.

However, we all had to admit that we were disappointed that we hadn’t seen the honored birthday girl that we came to see! Leona had been taken to the North Platte hospital, some 100 miles away where the doctors could more adequately care for her. As we drove back to the Bed and Breakfast where we were to stay, (no motels in Wauneta) we decided that even though it was a long way we were going to see Leona before we left. It was a good decision! Early the next morning we were on our way.


We didn’t know whether Leona would be able to see us or talk to us but when we went
in to her room, our concerns vanished. This spunky lady was so wide awake in her hospital bed and so alert and happy to see us. For over an hour we talked, took pictures, remembered old times and enjoyed her usual sense of humor cracking jokes about her age and her fall etc. What a special time we had together. In fact, for us it was probably more quality time spent with her than if we had seen her at the party. The Picture: Ed, Ila, Leona, and Rita

I looked up the word nostalgia in the dictionary to be sure I was spelling it right and found it interesting that the basic meaning is from a Greek word that means “return home”. Thus the reason for the title of this story. There was one more thing I wanted so to do. It was to drive out on the south divide where our farm was, go past the Mt. Zion Church and visit the old cemetery called “Mt Zion Cemetery”. If we timed it right on Monday we could do all this and still arrive back at the Denver Airport by 6 p.m.


As you view the pictures you can see the deterioration. This was the church where I grew up, learned the stories about Jesus, went to Sunday School and Vacation Bible School, sang in the choir, observed people who truly loved the Lord and some who didn’t. But they were good hard working farmers who were our friends and neighbors. The building itself is only a shell--been vandalized, but some of the people I remember were a godly influence in my life and my siblings, and in many ways their beliefs and good moral values still live in me. I’m so grateful for this kind of exposure to life that I had growing up!

The same could be said of the small cemetery where our brother Dale was buried. We found it after quite a search. A small marker barely seen for the tall grass. It was alongside names of many whose gravestones revealed people we had known in the past. I was glad to havfe Ed and Ila with me to help me remember. It is always a sobering experience, but one that we all should have -to remember the brevity of life and that only eternal things are important when it comes right down to it.

Well, this is a rather sobering note to end up on but maybe that’s OK! I think I’d like to dedicate this blog to the memory of my brother Dale Miller, who passed away at 8 months. I never saw him but found myself returning home grieving that I had never had that chance. Another reason to look forward to our heavenly hope!
The picture: Lois, Dale, and Vara.




Much love to all,
Grandma Rita

AFRICAN ADVENTURES

GRANDMA RITA’S
RAMBLINGS

April, 2009


To My Grandkids With Love


This is one of those trips that I would not in my wildest imaginations have ever thought I’d do. It all started when Juanita, your Grandpa Lynn’s Iowa sister called me. She was making plans to go to Dakar, Senegal, Africa with her two daughters, Sharman and Heidi. Would I consider going along? From Atlanta, GA we could get a plane non-stop to Dakar, an overnight flight.

Since Ramona and Jim were there working with a missions organization called World Venture and Juanita’s son and family, Bruce and Julie Adamson were living only a few miles from them doing missionary work under another missions board,it seemed like a perfect opportunity to see them and get to know another part of the world. Reservations were made early for March 20th.

Yes, March 20th 2009 came and it became one of those days that I will not forget for a long time. I was of course excited and a bit fearful of the unknown. It all started with a phone call at 3 a.m. It was a canned phone call to tell me this was the day I was to travel. It is hard to hear messages on the phone and I had to play it several times before I knew what they were saying. I thought they might be telling me of a time change. It wasn’t. Oh well, I needed to be up by 4 a.m. anyway to get to the airport in time.

I won’t go in to all the little (or big?) things that happened that just kept me wondering if I would make it to my destination such as finding a big hole in one of my suitcases, losing my cell phone only to find it later in the bottom of my bag, and some other things.

Juanita (IA), Sharman (CA), and Heidi (NE) and myself planned to meet at Atlanta,GA Airport That went OK and we got on the plane ready to roll when we heard otherwise. We had to deplane as there was a mechanical problem. After a three hour delay in Atlanta we left at 7 p.m. All of our families were at the Dakar Airport at 8 a.m. the next day to meet us.





WORLD VENTURE MISSIONARIES RETREAT:
As soon as we arrived in Dakar (8 a.m. Senegal time) Jim, Ramona and I left by car for a Missionary Retreat by the ocean that is planned once a year for all World Venture missionaries in the country of Senegal. It was a good chance for me to learn about the work there and get to know Jim and Ramona’s co-workers. This week-end is designed to be a restful time, Time was spent on the beach, kayaking, swimming, family times, coffee times to chat with each other.



FAMILY TIME: The next couple of days were spent at another resort and it was time to spend time with family. This was a really nice place with plenty of beach and nice facilities. Since the two families hadn’t seen each other, some for years, we would just be enjoying getting connected.

By family I mean Bruce and Julie and their three, Taylor, Sam, and Ellie. Bruce is Juanita’s son and brother to Sharman and Heidi. We had a great time getting acquainted again. We ate one meal together each day.

Two one day trips were planned for all nine of us.

The first day we left early to go to a Game park--a refuge for African animals.


BANDIA GAME PARK:
Our tour bus was a pickup truck with two planks going lengthwise in its bed. There were bars above to hang on to to keep from falling out! It was a bit hard to climb in to. I was thankful for long legs and a push from behind!

The driver just drove around in this big reserve finding the animals. Our tour guide spoke French so Bruce translated information into English. It was great. The next thing to being on a safari, I think!

The only elephant we saw was the trunk of a Baobob tree that looked like an elephant. There is a legend about the Baobob tree.- in the creation God wasn’t pleased with the tree he made and he pulled it up, turned it upside down and replanted it. The Baobob trees are very numerous and they aren’t very pretty-they do look like the roots are sticking up. The inside of the trunk is hollow and they produce what they called “Monkey Bread” It is supposed to be nutritious.








THE CAMEL RIDE:
The second day we were together we left for the Sahara Desert which was about a four hour drive north. There is a little village right on the edge of where we were going to ride camels. There we parked our cars. Again we mounted our tour bus (pick-up) and were driven to our “motel” for the night (large tents).


Because the sand is soft and fine we sunk in about three inches every time we took a step. One of the pics you will see Juanita coming out of the “restroom” made of leaves. She and I were in one tent together. It was cold and windy. We slept on mats. Not really! I didn’t get much sleep that night.


But I’m getting ahead of the story. Toward evening we all got on camels with the help of some workers. There were two or three to a camel. I was worried that I might fall off for it isn’t very smooth riding and you are up there pretty high. Anyway, I am now able to say that I have ridden a camel!


The next morning we left via pick-up and went back to the little village for our cars. After escaping many men, women and children trying to sell us their wares, we left for “home”.

It took a while for us to recup from that trip! A couple of days later both families went by ferry to an island close to Dakar. It is called Goree Island or slave island. The history of that island is very sad. People would be forced from many villages in Africa by the French traders and there they would be housed in these buildings until the slave ships arrived.

Upon arrival of the ships they would be put in chains, (ankles and wrists), and would file out through the “Door of no Return” to be sold in the States or in other countries.

It is now a tourist area-you can go through the various buildings with tour guides. Also many little three sided shops sell many trickets, clothing, etc. When the natives see that we are a bunch of Americans they swarm over you like vultures trying to sell us something. This is the main way they earn their bread and butter.


THE TALIBI BOYS:
Friday is Ramona’s day to help at the Center for the Talibi boys, managed by a World Venture missionary.

The word Talibi means “Disciple”. There are estimated to be 100,000 of them on the streets of Dakar. Parents of these boys who live in the villages will give up their boys to the Muslim leaders to win favor with Allah. They are promised an education and care of them. But most of the times these boys are put out on the streets of Dakar to beg for their food. The boys think it is OK because they are sacrificing for Allah.

If they do not bring anything home at night to give to the Muslim leader, they will be punished. Eventually, they become disillusioned. They want to go back home but again will be told that would not please Allah.

When World Venture opened the Center six months ago the boys realized this was a haven where there was loving care. They have ministered to around eighty of them. The day I was there we counted around fifty. Some things they could enjoy was a shower and clean clothes twice a week, a cup of hot milk and a piece of bread with nutritional and tasty filling. They can play with blocks and toys, color in coloring books, watch a Christian film, listen to a Bible Story, play in the half basketball court and just relax. They spend a few hours there in the morning and then off they go for a day of begging on the street with their little buckets. These boys range in age from 5 to 14 years of age.


After their day they return to the Muslim leader to show the results of their day and sleep on the ground in a shack-like facility. Our hearts were so touched for these precious boys. What of their present and future? Only God knows.


DAKAR CHRISTIAN ACADEMY
The school was on Spring Break most of the time I was there. But the last day I was able to visit and meet some of the staff. I also met the Fifth Grade Students that Jim teaches. There are 15 students from seven different countries. Most are Missionary Kids. Parents are originally from Korea, Brazil, and USA to name a few.


THE INTERNATIONAL ENGLISH SPEAKING CHURCH
This was the grand finale of my trip!! This was mostly Black believers from various English speaking countries in Africa. The worship time was a little bit of heaven on earth, the choir and the pastor’s message on Palm Sunday were very soul stirring and I felt such a sweet time of being truly in God’s presence. It’s hard to describe and no pictures would give you the sense of the time spent in this humble little gathering.

I want to thank Jim and Ramona for making this such a special trip. The pics are all what they took during the time I was there. They truly gave me the grand tour spending precious time to make this all possible. Also, the trip was a double blessing for me to be with Juanita, my dear sister in “love” and her family. This was truly a God planned trip and most of all I am thankful for His wonderful protection.

Love, to all,
Grandma Rita

LIVING IN SOUTH PHOENIX

GRANDMA RITA’S RAMBLINGS



To my Grandkids with love

January, 2009

Recently I got a call from Evelyn, my dear friend from South Phoenix. After visiting a bit I invited her and her husband and family to come out and have dinner with me. As Evelyn wrote later in an e mail, “it was a blessed evening”. We talked about experiences we had when we lived in the South Phoenix area.

The Oakes have eight children, four who still live at home. Three came that evening, Candace(16), and their twin boys, Timothy and Aaron(14). They seemed to enjoy it as much as we did.

Now I want to take you back to the beginning of my story:

THE 60’S and 70’S
The story I’m about to tell you happened in the 1970’s but God was preparing us for it even in the 1960’s Really this time in history was a pretty painful time for those of us who were living it out. It is hard to give you a true description of the climate of unrest that prevailed over our nation in the 1960’s. I am going to just list for you some of the main events before I get in to how these days affected your grandpa Lynn and me, as well as our family. This would include your parents.

Here are happenings that birthed a huge culture change:

Vietnam War

College campuses scenes of protest.

JF Kennedy assassinated (1962)

1963 Martin Luther King leading peaceful sit-ins--”I Have a Dream” speech.

Styles: long hair, polyester pant suits, Afros, and much more.

Black’s (no longer Negroes), Hispanics no longer Mexicans, Native Americans and Women--all wanting their rights.

Watt’s riots (1965) broke out in LA.

Hispanics under Caesar Chavez were considered an oppressed minority,
American Indians asserted their plight in violent protests and wanted to be Native Americans. Women organized and were known as NOW. It was the birth of Women’s Lib.

It was decided by the Supreme Court that we didn’t need God in our public schools making it unconstitutional to pray.

The Hippie Movement was the order of the day and along with it the sex revolution, drugs, communes and mystic religions. Out of this came the Jesus Movement.

Churches were also going through changes. Your Grandpa Lynn at the time was pastor of a new church in Tempe started in 1964. He had an honest desire to see us adapt to people’s needs without compromising the truth of Scripture. It was a stretching time for all of us.

It was during this time that we heard a man speak by the name of Keith Phillips. He had a ministry in the Watts District in Los Angeles. He left a deep impression on us as we realized more and more the needs--physical and spiritual, of the black communities in the inner cities of our country. Many of the larger cities were experiencing tremendous turmoil and riots.

Keith’s passion became ours as well. But how to become involved was
something we thought and prayed over a lot. As is usually the case, we had to just take a step at a time. We would have liked it if we could have seen the big picture but God knew what was best for us.



Around that time we came in contact with Lee Montigue, a retired Air Force man who had just started a small Bible School called Canaan Bible Institute in South Phoenix. He asked Lynn to teach some Bible classes in the school. There were five young men who had a heart to learn and to see some changes in the black churches. Lee also worked with New Chance Ministries providing a camp in the mountains of Arizona for inner city youth.

After some time we left the Tempe Evangelical Free Church and bought a house in South Phoenix.
We had heard Keith Phillips emphasize how futile it is to do, as many have done-go down to the inner city to “do ministry” and then go back home to live in the safer suburbs.

We moved in to a neighborhood that was mostly Blacks with a few Hispanic families. We weren’t sure where to begin but we started to attend the Salt of the Earth Church.

Claudell Miles, the pastor received us graciously and we could sense that his preaching was true to the Bible. Our strongest desire was to live out the Gospel and in some way let those around us know that we really did care about the needs of our neighbors and those around us whether it was physical or spiritual. How well we accomplished that I will leave it to others to decide. There were blunders and painful happenings along the way but all I can say is we did what our hearts told us to do.

This all Black Church lovingly befriended us and we came to love them as well. We wanted to keep a pretty low profile and just be involved when we were asked. Lynn became the teacher of the Adult Bible Class and I, with the help of Evelyn Oakes, had a children’s choir we called “Kids of the Kingdom“.
This was a very delightful time not only for the kids but for us. During that time Evelyn and I became very close friends. We so enjoyed working together in ministries with kids.

Lynn got a job working at the same school where I was teaching Elementary Music. This school was a beautiful example of Blacks, Hispanics and Whites all working together side by side and nobody seemed to be concerned about skin color!


A few months later, we started the “Neighborhood Kids Club”. It was held in our home. Pictured were those who helped me. All were from the neighborhood.

It was once a week plus some parties and game activities along the way. I have often wondered where these kids are today-they were mostly from our neighborhood. Did any of the teachings stick with them as they grew up? Only God knows.

During these years we came to know some beautiful people. One that I want to tell you about was called “Big Mama”. Her real name was Roberta Miles. Big Mama birthed 11 children. The ones we knew best was Claudell, the Pastor of Salt of the Earth Church and my friend, Evelyn Oakes. Big Mama would put the youngest on her back and pick cotton in the fields around Coolidge, Arizona. Her husband was a good provider and the children were well cared for.

By the time we met Big Mama she was in her 80’s living either with Claudell or Evelyn. She seemed to be so happy with so little. She didn’t talk as much about her faith as living it.

One time she went with Evelyn and me to a Women’s Retreat. She was wearing a neat new cotton dress with pink and white stripes. I mentioned a couple of times how pretty it was and how nice she looked in it. Shortly after she came to me with it folded neatly and told me she wanted me to have it. I was so surprised that I hardly knew what to say. But I knew it would not be right for me to decline. It was her giving heart that caused me to remember her by all these years.

She made dozens of quilts, rocked and tended all of Evelyn’s eight children and reprimanded each one when they needed it. Her life was simple and adequate in her later years. Her body was strong. She died at the age of 97. I was privileged to attend her Memorial Service. The church was full of her family and others that her life touched- like mine. There was so much love there as they gave honor and respect to their beloved Big Mama. Her son Claudell preached, granddaughter Michelle, a journalist by profession, gave tribute to her grandmother, as well as her son in law that she lived with in her last years. It was all so right. For reasons that I can’t easily explain, my heart was so touched.

We were still living in South Phoenix when your Grandpa Lynn died. It seemed right to me to leave that area but not without feeling much richer than when we went. We learned so much-sometimes the hard way. Mostly I felt a deep gratitude for this slice of time in our lives when God allowed us to gain so many precious friends that remain to this day.

"DADDY"-RALPH WALDO MILLER

Grandma Rita's Ramblings


November2008

RALPH WALDO MILLER
“Daddy”


To My Grandkids With Love

Daddy was in some ways a bit hard to understand. He was very opposite of my mom in that she openly gave her opinion on her likes or dislikes. She was like an open book as they say. Daddy on the other hand was for the most part quiet and much of the time kept his opinions to himself. He always kept me guessing as to whether I had his approval. I tried hard to please him. Not because I thought he would punish me (only once does the family remember his giving one of his kids a spanking) but more because I so craved his approval. I was his “hired hand” at the time I was in upper grade and high school. I liked outdoor work better than indoor so I got to know him well.

He never showed his temper when I did crazy things such as the time I ran in to a fence post with our old truck when I was twelve. Or the many times we would have an unruly young heifer who didn’t want to be milked. Or if I didn’t keep a straight row when driving the tractor.

The few times I did receive a compliment from him are times I still remember with pride. I don’t ever remember sitting on his lap when young, or hearing him say that he loved me. These things may have happened but I have no memory of outward affection at any time, but I guess I just assumed that he did love me. As I write this, it sounds strange, I know. I think the era in which we lived then people were less likely to show affection, and it was thought if you bragged on your child there might be a danger of him/her getting too proud.


Two times I clearly remember his words of approval:

In the 1930’s when FDR (Franklin Delano Roosevelt) took office, the government offered various programs for the farmers who were struggling from the “Great Depression” and the “Dust Bowl Days“.
One of those programs was to give the farmer enough money to buy a good herd of cows so they would have a steady income from the sale of dairy products, especially cream.

I was the one in the family that helped daddy the most with milking our 8 or10 cows twice daily (by hand of course). I enjoyed this time alone with just daddy and the cows! It was a bit of bonding that took place.

I recall one Sunday afternoon when we had distant relatives, Warren and Hazel Buffington over for Sunday dinner. After the meal we were all sitting in the living room. Adult conversation was going on and daddy starts telling about what a good milker I was! The more he talked the bigger my chest got. From that time on I tried even harder to be a good milker. You have no idea what that did for my self esteem! Of course in that day no one even knew of such a word.

Another time was after the church Christmas Program. Our family had participated in the music area. When it was over and we were all sitting around the pot bellied stove shelling peanuts in the coal bucket, we were discussing the program and daddy comes out with this remark--”well, by golly, I think our kids did better than any of the other kids there“!

I could almost always tell when daddy was in a good or bad mood, especially when he was mad at mom about something. His way of getting back at her was not verbal or physical but just clamming up and not talking. His sulking was obvious to all and could last for quite a while. This hurt mom a lot because she wanted to talk about it.


Things Daddy loved--

MUSIC


Daddy’s good mood times clearly were shown in times relating to music. He loved music and wanted us all to learn to sing and play the piano. He played the guitar and knew enough chords to sing the folk songs of the day. His favorite was ”Red River Valley”. He sometimes played at Box Suppers but more often at family reunions. At their 65th Wedding Anniversary he played and sang to Mom “Have I told You Lately That I Love You?” What a tear jerker that was! I think it was much easier for him to sing it than to say it. He also liked to play the harmonica

Three of daddy’s four girls, Lois, Ila and I played the piano and organ but at times I thought he was a bit disappointed with our style. He really liked more of a honky-tonk swing to it (such as Joan Castle on the Lawrence Welk Show). One time in the rest home

we were all there and a lady there playing the piano and really hitting it with the right kind of down south style and swing He told someone that he wished his girls could play like that!

His love for music seemed to “rub off” on us although none of us adopted that style. Most of us have been involved in various music activities. Ed got his Master Degree in Music at McPhail School of Music in Minneapolis. He made this his profession for many years teaching in the public schools in Colorado, leading church choirs, and singing solos and in groups, and playing his trombone. Ila and husband Don have always been involved in church music playing piano and organ, singing in choirs and small group ensembles. I too have found a ministry in church music and later teaching Elementary Music in the public schools.

One time when my parents went to Colorado Springs to visit daddy’s sister and family they came back with an accordion daddy purchased for $400. A lot of money! I think I was high school age then. When they got home he brought the case in on the dining room floor. Then he took this beautiful 120 Bass Accordion out of the case and showed it off. Then he looked around at the family and told us that the first one to learn to play it was the one who would own it. I don’t recall anyone else that tried it. I took it on as a challenge and worked very hard even though I didn’t have a book or teacher. I learned to play hymns and other songs and when I went to college I took it along and used it to play on various occasions. Carrying it around developed my muscles as well providing many fun times. I still have it but it is not in very good shape and it would cost a lot to get it back in good playing order.

CIRCUS

Another love of daddy’s was the circus. Ringling Brothers would occasionally come to McCook, fifty miles away. There was always time and money to go to a circus. Mom would never go-too many ill clad women!- so he would take one of us kids. What fun!

A FRIENDLY PRANK

He loved to occasionally play a friendly prank on someone. One time he and Ed Buffington were hanging out just talking and killing time on a cool summer evening. They were discussing that the price of skunk hides were a good price-$5 per hide. Daddy said, “I know where there is a den of skunks, It is just over our corral fence in Tieman’s pasture”. Ed said, “Let’s go get ‘em!” Our neighbor Mr. Tieman and daddy seldom spoke. It seemed like Mr. Tieman wanted it that way.

Off they went across two fences. The way you catch a skunk and not get sprayed is to surprise them and catch them before they see you. Things were going well until Tieman caught them at it and told them to get off his property which they did. They couldn’t believe it when they found that Tieman turned them in to the sheriff for trespassing on his property. They actually had to go to court over it! There was no way to settle it until they pleaded guilty (which of course they were) and paid the fine.


Another time he had some fun was at my 9th birthday party. Some of the friends of mine from school and church were there. Lo and behold we had an uninvited guest. It was Frankie Tieman (Mr. Tieman’s young son) who was proving to be a pest every time we wanted to do something. He was ruining the party! Mom tried to get him to leave and go home but it didn’t work. He always worked his way back to the party and became more and more a version of Denise the Menace.


Daddy decided to fix the situation and he took a pail of water, climbed up the stairs and quietly stood at the bedroom window. When Frankie was in just the right place on the ground below, he dumped the pail of water. It was a perfect shot and Frankie never knew what happened. He retreated fast to his house to tell his mama.

DADDY’S BIOGRAPHY-
Seriously, your great grandpa lived and raised a family in some of the most difficult times. We never were hungry but many people were as they struggled through drouth, hail, dust storms such as has never been seen since. Between the Great Depression and the Dust Bowl Days in Nebraska and surrounding States, I sometimes wander how they survived with seven kids.

One thing that saved them was that Mom’s dad was a well established farmer and they were able to take over the home place and rent it. However, that in itself created a few problems. Working for your father-in-law can be testy and he lived only a quarter of a mile away so he had him sort of looking over his shoulder all the time giving his opinion of his farming skills. At the time I was too young to understand all his struggles but as I grew up I heard enough to make me see the picture more plainly.

Daddy was born February 8, 1897 in Moorfield, Nebraska. He attended school about 17 miles away in Angus, Nebraska riding the train each day for 17 cents one way. His dad, Arthur Edward Miller, farmed near the Little Blue River. He had fond memories of swimming in the “Little Blue”.

When he was about eight years old the family packed up there belongings, boarded a train, and went to Washington State to work in the lumber industry. On the way out they heard rumors on the train about the 1906 Historic Fire that almost destroyed San Francisco.

Interestingly, they settled close to the area where Rachel and Chris Vogel, your aunt and uncle now live. The area is called Laurel Washington. However, they didn’t stay there very long and then they headed back to Nebraska. On the way, the train stopped to pick up mail or something and Indians showed up with trinkets and things. They saw daddy with his beautiful curly hair and seriously wanted to trade him for some of their wares! This is a story my grandma told me many times.

I think they went back to the eastern Nebraska area for a time but eventually bought a farm south of Wauneta, Nebraska. Daddy worked for pay on farms around Wauneta. The farm his parents bought was only about two miles south of where the Art Nesmith family lived. Mom was a teenager and daddy three years older.

They met when the Miller family stopped by the Nesmith farm to buy a loaf of the wonderful home made bread that Maude (my grandmother) was famous for. That was the first encounter with the Nesmith kids but there were many later.

It was January 1, 1920 when Ralph and Nellie went to Hastings with daddy’s sister and fiance for a double wedding. I have in other writings told you much about what happened as they raised their family during the years ahead. They farmed on that same place until 1953 when grandpa sold the place to some neighbors. After all the kids were gone except Neal the youngest, they moved to Missouri close to where Lois and Smitty were living. Life continued to be hard as they had nothing to start over with. They finally retired in Nashville, Missouri and later spent time in rest homes in the area.

If money would have made them successful, my parents would have died poor. However, they had wealth in their six living kids and many grandkids who loved them.

Note:There is a video that was filmed a number of years ago before daddy’s death in which he tells much of his life. My brother Ed made it and has now put it in to a DVD. If you think you would like a copy of it for you and/or your kids please let me know. I like it because it is told by him in his natural way of talking.

Love to all,
Grandma Rita