Blow Us Up, Blow Us Down, We Will Stand

This one was personal.

When you've lived in "tornado alley" all your life you become used to spring storms. Bad ones. The old joke about Oklahomans is that when a tornado siren goes off we run to the front porch instead of the cellar...well that's really true! When I was a kid, the designated shelter in our home was the hall coat closet. When the sirens sounded we always had to throw a bunch of things out of it just to get in. It was kind of a family joke.

This was no joke.

My son, his wife and two of my three grandsons live in Moore.  Let me just say up front that they are all fine. Their house wasn't damaged. But it was a very close call. Less than 1/4 mile.  Andrew called me to let me know they were okay before I even knew the tornado had happened.  We are so blessed and I know it.  But nevertheless, this one effected me deeply. I was pretty much a nervous wreck all week thinking about what could have happened.  I think part of it was the children. The sight of the wounded children and demolished schools evoked memories of the Oklahoma City bombing more that any other event in the 18 years since.

Andrew and his family rode out the storm in an in-ground shelter that Elizabeth's mother had given them. Sadly, her mother passed away unexpectedly on Mother's Day. But I believe she was still watching out for them from heaven. Andrew, who is a middle school teacher in Moore public schools, just "happened" to be home that afternoon. Elizabeth just "happened" to be off work and, on a whim, decided to pick up their sons early from school / daycare.  I can just see Diane up in heaven shaking her finger and saying "I gave you that shelter Elizabeth, now go use it!"

I must confess that I haven't always been happy to be an Oklahoman. Even now the Oklahoma legislature can make me grind my teeth in frustration. But this last week, watching everyone in the state pitch in to help... well, it made me very proud to share that heritage.

You can blow us up. You can blow us down. We will stand.





P.S. Singer Kellie Coffey the amazing artist singing in this video. Check her out at http://www.kelliecoffey.com/

No Photos? No Problem!

My mother was a scrapbooker before there was scrapbooking. She created a wonderful family album that covered roughly the first 10 years of my parents' marriage and the birth of their oldest child (me).  There was not much of what we would now call "journaling" but she included lots of ephemera along with the photos. Then my younger twin sisters were born and that was the end of scrapbooking for my mom!  Guess she had other things to do.

I can't say that I have done much better regarding keeping up with the family photos. But I'm fortunate to live in the age of digital photography and digital scrapbooking.  I've worked on a few digital projects and have thoroughly enjoyed them.

Recently I was asked to give a presentation on my Civil War Haworth brothers.  My father and I (mostly my father) have done a lot of research on this family but sadly, do not have much in the way of photos. So the challenge for putting together this presentation was how to visually tell the story without the aid of photographs of the people involved.  I basically had two photos: a portrait of my 2nd great grandfather John Haworth and a group photo of his family. I also had some photos I took on a research trip to their hometown.

John Leonard Haworth

So I started looking around online for digital scrapbooking elements that would fit a civil war theme.  One of the best ones was at website called Heritage Scrap. The Civil War kit  by Kate McClellan (pictured below) was perfect!  

This site also had a kit called History Helpers- Civil War Cards by Rachael Hudnall. It included cards designed to look like original military records onto which you can transcribe your soldier's information. Cool!

History Helpers

I also searched my computer for digital kits that I had previously purchased.  I had three that I took elements from for the presentation: Duty Honor Country by Danyale Lewis and Recollection by Joanne Brisebois. These are both available at one of my favorite digi-scrap sites DigitalScrapper.com

Recollection

Duty Honor Country

The third kit I borrowed from was Remembrance by Brandy Murry. This is available on another of my favorite sites, ScrapGirls.com

Remembrance by Brandy Murry

Here are two of the presentation slides I made using these digital materials:

See? No photos!

And while we're on the subject let me just say that purchased all of these kits with my own money just like everybody else. I received no freebies or incentives of any kind.  My reviews are my own opinions.     So there.

Next time I'll tell you all about the FREE stuff I found online!

Remembering Susie

Note: I was planning to re-post this before the sad events in Boston occurred. Now it seems particularly apropos. Those of us in Oklahoma are sending prayers to Boston.   N.

The native oak trees are the last ones to leaf out here in Oklahoma. Millennia of experience with the vagaries of Oklahoma springtimes have taught the oaks to wait patiently to break their winter dormancy. Let the new hybrids and exotic imports take their chances with March: The old oaks know their tender young leaves will not be safe until April.

Except that one April when no one was safe.

Seventeen Eighteen years ago today my friend Susan Jane Ferrell died in the Oklahoma City bombing . She was my first and best friend. Our parents were good friends in their newlywed days, so when I was born, followed a year later by Susie, it was natural that their friendship was passed down to their daughters.

My dad with Susie on the left and me on the right, Christmas shopping in downtown Oklahoma City around 1959. Susie's father, Don, took the photo.

When my younger twin sisters were born (one of them named after Susie’s mother), Susie noted that I had an excess of baby sisters — couldn’t she have one of them? At the time I would have gladly given her both! A couple of years later, Susie got her very own little sister, Cindy. So the five of us grew up together, more like cousins than just friends. When I was 3 or 4, my mother took me to get a new stuffed animal to replace my beloved kitty cat that had literally been loved to pieces. I chose a small teddy bear that I promptly christened Susie Teddy. (Susie Teddy slept with me every night of my childhood, followed me to college and is now retired to an antique trunk in my living room.) We went to each others birthday parties and slept over at each other’s houses. I liked Paul; Susie liked Ringo. (I knew no one else who liked Ringo — Susie was always something of a free thinker.) She taught me how to make wishes on stars. Her father was the only adult I knew who could wiggle his ears. My first and only fishing attempt was in the farm pond behind her house. One year our families went on vacation together to Colorado.

In Colorado, left to right: My sister Sally; me (note the charming eyewear); Susie; Susie's mother, Sally; my mother and father. Standing in front: Susie's sister Cindy and my sister Jenny.   Susie's father was the photographer.

This gave our mothers, both of whom had a keen sense of history, the opportunity to cart home several large antiques tied to the luggage racks of our 1960s station wagons — including the aforementioned trunk. Susie and I attended different high schools; I was a band geek, and blonde, beautiful Susie was a cheerleader and dancer. I married young and began raising a family. Susie went to law school and became an attorney for the Department of Housing and Urban Development. As adults we kept in touch through our parents but became busy with our own lives. It was only when Susie died, and the memories came flooding back of all the things we shared growing up, that I realized how entwined our roots really were and still are. Bonds that take place in childhood are unique and enduring, and are like no other relationships you’ll have in life.

Susie was sweet and spirited and sparkling. She deserves to be remembered for how she lived, not for how she died. The creation of the Oklahoma City National Memorial insures that the 168 people who died in the Murrah Building on April 19, 1995 will be remembered and their lives celebrated.

So what does all this have to do with genealogy? Well, for me genealogy is more than just collecting names, dates and documents. It’s about telling the stories of people who can no longer tell them themselves. It’s about making people more than a name on a chart or an epitaph on a tombstone. When my mother died in 1987, just after the birth of my oldest daughter, Susie’s mother gave me the best gift I’ve ever received. It was a pink corduroy coat for my newborn daughter with a note attached. It read: “Remembering the time your mother and I made pink coats together for our little girls.” I learned then that a memory, although bittersweet, is the most precious gift you can give to someone who is grieving. When we remember their lives and tell their stories, Death no longer gets the final word.

So Susie, we remember. You are loved and missed but never, ever forgotten.

Susie with her niece and nephew on Easter Sunday 1995, just a few days before her death.

Update: Susie’s niece Rachel, who was only 1 year old at the time of Susie’s death, is apparently a big Beatles fan, with Ringo being her favorite. She had no idea that Ringo was also her Aunt Susie’s fave. According to her mom, Cindy, Rachel about fell over when she read this post. What a sweet connection to the aunt she never had the opportunity to know.

Note: This post was originially written for the Family Tree Firsts blog.  You can find it here.