Sepia Saturday: ROFLMAO

Sepia Saturday challenges bloggers to share family history through old photographs.

This week’s Sepia Saturday prompt is sure to make everyone smile, if not laugh out loud. The same response might result from looking at this photo from 1973:

 

Christmas 1973

My sister and I were having a good laugh over the onesie footy pajamas with “trap door” she received for Christmas. Those pjs were funny enough, but in retrospect we should have been laughing over my lovely floral-overload bathrobe or maybe my sister’s bathrobe crafted from bath towels. You gotta hand it to the 70s - funny fashions.

Something about laughter inspires more laughter. Have you ever started laughing just by watching someone else laugh uncontrollably even though you didn’t know what you were laughing about?

That is what happened to me one evening in the early 1980s. I answered the telephone. On the other end my sister was laughing hysterically. She couldn’t talk. Every time she tried, she would break down in more laughter. “Cam was callll HA HA HAHAAAAA.”

Before I knew it, I was laughing hysterically, too, with tears streaming down my face. My husband Barry asked what was so funny. “I don’t know. HA HA HAHAAAAA.”

Between fits of laughter and tears I got the story. Barry and Cam, my sister’s husband, were officers in the United Methodist Men’s group at church. 

Some of the Methodist Men 1980s

It must have been some big dinner coming up for Cam to be making phone calls to invite or remind the members. After one call, Cam just fell back on the bed. “Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh,” he kept saying as tears started to form.

When he was able to talk, he told Mary Jollette about his last phone call. It went something like this:

“Hello, is J. B. there?”

“No, he’s not.”

“This is Cam from the Methodist Men. Can I leave J. B. a message?”

“Well, Cam, J. B. is dead. He’s been dead for a couple years.”

Not surprisingly poor Cam stumbled through an apology. He knew the man was dead. He was just going down that list of names and not thinking. But our family is merciless in times like these. We spouted off the names of other dead men not to call. “Don’t call Denver Coble.” “Don’t call Sam.” “Don’t call . . . .”

Just remembering this story still makes me ROFLMAO.

Make your way over to Sepia Saturday where there are lots of laughs to be had.

Wendy

© 2019, Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.

A to Z April Challenge: Q is for Quirky

This is a continuation of LAST APRIL’s challenge about HEIRLOOMS. When my sister and I cleaned out our parents’ home, we had to make many decisions about what to do with all the stuff. Which things are truly “valuable” and which have only sentiment in their favor? Should we sell it, keep it, or throw it away? To help ensure a future for our family’s heirlooms, I plan to leave a booklet for my daughters telling the stories of what they will inherit one day. (Not TOO soon, I hope!)

is for Quirky. (Give me a break - I’ve said all I can say about QUILTS!) While I have many fine things to pass along as family heirlooms, I have just as much worthless, QUIRKY stuff.

Like these permanent rods.

When my sister and I cleaned out our parents’ home, we were surprised to find a box full of permanent rods. These were the tools of torture available to the do-it-yourselfers saving money by getting a home permanent rather than relying on a professional hairdresser.

Toni and Lilt were two popular choices, but Momma was a Toni girl through and through. Toni also offered a child’s version, Tonette. I have no idea how many Tonette perms I was subjected to during my childhood, but I had stubborn hair that Momma was determined to tame with a perm. I had to SLEEP with those rods in my hair overnight in order to get the curl to take.

There is nothing fun about sleeping on hard plastic, but that box of rods just made my sister and me laugh. Why did Momma keep them? She had long ago given up home perms and instead was a regular customer at her favorite beauty parlor.

My sister and I each have a jar of rods. Mine sits on a little what-not shelf in a pink guest room. Lift the lid and I swear I can still smell that permanent solution.

Wendy

© 2019, Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.

A to Z April Challenge: P is for Princess House

This is a continuation of LAST APRIL’s challenge about HEIRLOOMS. When my sister and I cleaned out our parents’ home, we had to make many decisions about what to do with all the stuff. Which things are truly “valuable” and which have only sentiment in their favor? Should we sell it, keep it, or throw it away? To help ensure a future for our family’s heirlooms, I plan to leave a booklet for my daughters telling the stories of what they will inherit one day. (Not TOO soon, I hope!)

is for Princess House. In the late 1980s, everyone in my crowd was hosting parties to earn free “stuff.” Longaberger baskets. Mary Kay cosmetics. Tupperware. Princess House. You know the format: the hostess invites her friends to the party, she serves beautifully displayed snacks and drinks, the representative demonstrates her wares, you buy, and the hostess gets free or discounted products based on sales. At the time, Princess House was all about lead crystal. And BUY, I did. I probably even hosted a few parties.

I like my Princess House crystal as much today as when I bought it. The Heritage etched tumblers are my “good glasses” that I bring out for company.

This set of wine glasses was the only style sold by Princess House at the time. Frankly, they do not get as much use anymore. Instead souvenir glasses from wine festivals and winery tours are what I like to use. Of course, they are not quality crystal like Princess House.

The large pitcher is perfect for serving water or tea. Everyone at the Princess House party was skeptical about the handle because it looks awkward, almost like it might break off. But as you see, it is still going strong. The smaller pitcher was promoted as being perfect for gravy. I was sold! It probably can be used in other ways, but my daughters will probably always think of it as a gravy pitcher.

The crystal dessert plates in the Fantasia pattern were not purchased through a party. I bought them a few years ago at a thrift store. A stack of 8 for $4. They always come in handy, especially at our family Christmas Eve party.

The serving bowl is the last of my Princess House serving pieces. At one time I had at least 2 other pieces - a long bowl and a divided dish. Since I did not use them often, I gave them to my daughters when they moved out on their own.

These spoon and fork holders are always in use when I set up a buffet at family gatherings.

Toothpick holders! Enough said.

 

This crystal basket was really a splurge. Usually it sits empty in my dining room, but occasionally I fill it with flowers.

 

There was a time when fine china and crystal were a must for entertaining. People made a point of protecting it so that it would sparkle when company came for dinner. If you didn’t own it, you borrowed it if you were hosting a bridal or baby shower. Nowadays no one wants to be bothered. It’s a disposable world of coordinating paper plates and cups.

Wendy

© 2019, Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.

A to Z April Challenge: O is for Oak Buffet

This is a continuation of LAST APRIL’s challenge about HEIRLOOMS. When my sister and I cleaned out our parents’ home, we had to make many decisions about what to do with all the stuff. Which things are truly “valuable” and which have only sentiment in their favor? Should we sell it, keep it, or throw it away? To help ensure a future for our family’s heirlooms, I plan to leave a booklet for my daughters telling the stories of what they will inherit one day. (Not TOO soon, I hope!)

is for the Oak Buffet in my dining room. It is not a family heirloom, but it is definitely old. I purchased it from an antique shop in nearby Suffolk, Virginia, with money left to me by my grandaunt Violetta Davis Ryan.

The minute I saw this one in the shop, I knew how I was going to spend my inheritance. 

The carved doors, the lion heads, the claw feet, the mirror, the ample storage - what’s not to love? 

My grandaunt Helen Killeen Parker’s silver service is displayed prominently. A few pieces of crystal make an appearance as well. The main cabinet holds my fine china. Odds and ends of candles, napkins, trays, and serving pieces are stored in the drawers. Boxes of silverware and brassware are shoved underneath.

Sometimes I look around at my STUFF and imagine what I would keep if I ever wanted or needed to downsize. This buffet is always on my KEEP list.

Wendy

© 2019, Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.

A to Z April Challenge: N is for Nightstand

This is a continuation of LAST APRIL’s challenge about HEIRLOOMS. When my sister and I cleaned out our parents’ home, we had to make many decisions about what to do with all the stuff. Which things are truly “valuable” and which have only sentiment in their favor? Should we sell it, keep it, or throw it away? To help ensure a future for our family’s heirlooms, I plan to leave a booklet for my daughters telling the stories of what they will inherit one day. (Not TOO soon, I hope!)

is for Nightstands. Mine were probably not manufactured as such, but that is how these three tables are being used.

Grandma Davis's table

This one is definitely a lamp table designed for use in a living room. It belonged to my maternal grandmother. Usually it held a lamp, but when my grandmother stopped putting up a Christmas tree, it became the staging area for a small table-top tree.

 

The right size for a little Christmas tree

On the other side of the bed stands this table that came from my grandaunt Violetta Davis Ryan. The drawer makes it useful as a nightstand. In fact, maybe that has always been its intended use.

Another table from Violetta is in a guest room. 

I like the lovely carved decoration around the table top. It appears to be some kind of veneer applique. Some of it is missing though. The lamp and doilies belonged to Violetta’s sister Velma Davis Woodring.

 None of these tables are in the best of shape, but they earn their keep every day.

Wendy

© 2019, Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.

52 Ancestors - OUT OF PLACE: Two Women

Except for an occasional acquisition of bounty land or promise of cheap land during periods of western expansion, our ancestors did not move around very much. Many of my ancestors died in the same county where they were born. That is why a death recorded far from familiar territory always raises a red flag.

 

My great-great grandparents are buried in the
Methodist Church Cemetery
Shenandoah, Page Co, Virginia

Segourney Shiflett Eppard was my maternal grandmother’s maternal grandmother. She was born in Albemarle County, Virginia, in 1850. At least by 1870 she was a resident of neighboring Rockingham County where she married George Harvey Eppard.

George and Segourney lived on a farm in McGaheysville and raised 5 boys and 1 girl. The two oldest died as young adults. One son became a doctor and moved to Washington DC, one moved to West Virginia, and one moved to Georgia. It is no wonder then that after Segourney was widowed, she lived for a time with her daughter.

What IS a wonder, though, is why Segourney died in a hospital in Washington D.C. She had been living with her daughter in 1925 when she filed an application for a widow’s pension due her thanks to her husband’s service during the Civil War. Had she traveled to Washington D.C. to visit her son George Jr and grandchildren? Was she living with them? Did George send for her knowing she was ill and that perhaps the hospitals were better equipped?

Even though Segourney seems to have died “out of place,” I can make sense of it since there are several logical explanations. However, there is NOTHING to explain why my 3X great-grandmother Sarah Jones Herndon would have left Virginia to die “out of place” in Iowa. She had no children there. One was in Illinois, but the others were in Virginia.

Sarah Jones was born about 1794 in probably Orange County because MUCH of Virginia was Orange County at that time. She married Ezekiel Herndon in 1821. Ezekiel died about 1845. If Sarah were still alive, she should have been enumerated as head of household in the 1850 census or possibly as a member of the household of a son or daughter, but there is no sign of her in Virginia.

However, there was a Sarah Herndon in Iowa in 1860 and in the Mortality Schedule for 1869. Date and place of birth all seem to match my Sarah Jones Herndon. Trees on Ancestry and on FamilySearch all show her dying “out of place” in Mahaska County, Iowa, July 1869.

A search of the children listed in Sarah Herndon’s household in 1860 led to a Findagrave memorial for son Adolphus Herndon. The person contributed more than a photo; he gave the parents’ names as Carter and Sarah DAVIS Herndon.

Lesson to be learned: A person's record of dying “out of place” should serve as a red flag demanding genealogists and family historians to question the “facts.”

Amy Johnson Crow continues to challenge genealogy bloggers and non-bloggers alike to think about our ancestors and share a story or photo about them. The challenge is “52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks.”

Wendy

© 2019, Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.

A to Z April Challenge: M is for Marble Top

This is a continuation of LAST APRIL’s challenge about HEIRLOOMS. When my sister and I cleaned out our parents’ home, we had to make many decisions about what to do with all the stuff. Which things are truly “valuable” and which have only sentiment in their favor? Should we sell it, keep it, or throw it away? To help ensure a future for our family’s heirlooms, I plan to leave a booklet for my daughters telling the stories of what they will inherit one day. (Not TOO soon, I hope!)

is for the Marble Top Plant Stand that at one time belonged to my grandaunt Helen Killeen Parker. The table is about 2’ tall and is solid mahogany. The word “Victorian” is etched into the wood under the marble. Such stands must have been fairly common judging by the number for sale on eBay.

Aunt Helen owned several, so my sister and I each received one when her estate was divided. Mine sits in a corner of the dining room with a display of some old silverware. Helen actually used hers to hold a plant.

 

Helen Killeen Parker in her dining room
Probably late 1960s-early 1970s

When we had our daughter’s first formal portrait made, we took the plant stand along as a prop since she was just learning to walk. It was the perfect height for her.

 

Easter 1982

Wendy

© 2019, Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.