![]() | ![]() In many ways I know a lot less about my mother's family than I do my father's; and, that is my own fault! I did not ask questions when I had the chance. |
His family, especially on his
mother's side, was somewhat noted in the local area of Baker
County, Florida, and left more behind on the official record;
plus there were annual reunions
which were great for reinforcing who was related to who in which way;
while her family was noted nowhere and at first seem to pretty
much disappear right behind her grandparents who are pretty hazy
critters themselves.
Now, thanks to the internet, I now know a lot more than I used to; but, if I had asked those questions, I would now know a lot more and could fill in a lot of the blanks that now seem so elusive. I mean my mother did talk. She told lots of stories. Like just about any kid I didn't listen as well as I should have, as well as I wish I had, but osmosis did take place and I do remember those stories today. Mama just didn't include certain facts though, or if she did I just don't remember; but, I am pretty sure she didn't because I do remember wondering certain things; but, once again like a kid, I was ashamed of not knowing, of having to ask because somehow I thought I should know these things and because I didn't I felt stupid. Later as an adult whenever I was with her something else always came up and then her memory was failing. Still I should have pressed, should have asked. Like who was this Aunt Susie she said she was named for? My advice: ask questions people, ask
questions. *** *** *** I know that my mother's father's name was Joseph Thomas. I know that when young he had black hair and blue eyes and stood only 5'2. He called himself a "little patty Irishman" although I don't know what he based that on since he was adopted; and, how well he knew his natural family I am not sure although I do know their was some contact because his son, Nelson, married his step brother's daughter, Della.
It doesn't show in the photo above; but, according to my mother, my grandmother was quite a bit taller than my grandfather. When she was young she had long blond hair and brown eyes. She always wore long dresses with long sleeves even in the hottest days of summer; and, it does get hot in Florida! She was also very jealous and once took a shotgun after a woman she thought was making eyes at her man. Fortunately Grandma Abby was a lousy shot! She always insisted that my grandfather wear a moustache because she said that kissing a man without a moustache was like cutting butter with a knife! How much experience she had in these matters I do not know! I only remember her vaguely. Grandpa Tom I remember a lot better. He did not leave us until I was full grown. He was very opinionated. Maybe that is where I get it from! *** *** *** My father's mother died several
months before he turned three. "She swallowed a watermelon
seed." they used to say. For a long time I thought she had
choked to death on a watermelon seed! Then my mother explained to
me that that was their way of saying she died in childbirth! No
photos of her seem to have survived. They say that she had blond
hair and blue eyes. Her name was Elvie Catherine Mobley and she
was the daughter of
As for my father's father, I don't think my father really remembered him all that well, mostly because he never really knew him all that well. My grandfather, Francis Marion Garrett, a Methodist preacher, was always off preaching somewhere while my maternal great grandparents, Jesse Daniel Mobley and Tabitha Taylor Mobley, raised his son. He did remarry, shortly after my grandmother's death, and have five more children, all of whom survived well into adulthood. According to both my parents, this second wife, Matilda Hodges, was a good woman whom they both liked; but, after his mother's death, my father went to stay with her father and mother and stayed there. To him, Jesse Daniel Mobley was his father and Tabitha Taylor Mobley his mother. Grandpa Frank used to come to sunday dinner with us every once in a while. I remember him as a tall, thin really old man who lived to be nearly 100. He didn't say much. According to my mother, he never said much until he was in the pulpit. Then he shouted and shook his finger a lot; but, by the time I came along, he was no longer preaching.
seven
generations! Obediah
Garrett |
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