Celebrating Grandma: 109 Years Ago Today

This morning, as I sat sipping my coffee, I realized that today marks 109 years since my grandmother was born. She was born on February 4, 1916, in Danville, Illinois. Reflecting on her life, I can’t help but smile at the many wonderful memories she left behind. She was a kind and loving soul with a gift for bringing family history to life through her stories. I have always felt that those stories inspired my passion for genealogy.

One of my favorite stories she shared was about a day when she and her siblings were watching their parents, her "mama and papa," leave the house in their mule-driven buggy. As the buggy made its way down a slight slope at the end of the road, it tipped over completely! The mule, the buggy, and her parents all tumbled to the ground. She laughed so hard recalling how she and her siblings couldn’t stop giggling as they watched the scene unfold from the window. Even though it must have been quite a mess at the time, her storytelling always made it a lighthearted and joyful memory.

                                                       Grandma Margaret 1917 

                                What Was Happening in the World in 1916?

The world my Grandma was born into was quite different from the one we know today:

- World War I was ongoing. The war, often called "The Great War," had already been raging for two years, though the United States had not yet entered the conflict.

- The National Park Service was founded. In 1916, the U.S. government established the agency to protect and manage national parks, ensuring natural beauty for generations to come.

- Woodrow Wilson was President. He was serving his first term and would soon lead the country through its entry into World War I.

- Advancements in transportation were shaping the future. The Model T automobile was becoming more common, and innovations in aviation were laying the groundwork for modern air travel.

- The Chicago Cubs played their first game at Wrigley Field. Known then as Weeghman Park, it became a landmark in sports history.

Grandma Margaret’s kindness, humor, and deep love for family continue to inspire me. Today, I honor her memory and celebrate the remarkable legacy she left behind.

Happy heavenly birthday, Grandma. Thank you for the stories, the laughter, and the love. You are forever in my heart.

Denise

The Memories That Take Me Back Home

I found this picture of me as my mother and I were going through some of her old photos..Sunday school. It brought back a lot of great memories. I remember that dress. It was different shades of pink..I must of been 5 or 6 years old. I was standing in front of this great big picture on the wall in the hallway of the church.

As a child, I remember going to church and weekends at grandma's house. I think that's when I fell in love with getting all dressed up. I loved wearing pretty dresses along with my black patent leather shoes that shined. Gloves, lace tights or Bobbi socks and my little purse, Sunday was church day..it was family day. For a while my sister and I attended Forth Baptist Church Bible School. Mom didn't have a car so the bus would come and pick us up. I remember learning about Noah's Ark and the Ten Commandments. When we went to grandma's house for the weekend.. it was Church again. I still remember the gentle tap on my knee. Grandma would say, " Sit up straight, and pull your dress down..act like a lady".  She'd give me a lemon drop or piece of cinnamon gum. Next she'd give me the change to put in the collection plate,which I kept tightly clenched in my hand until it was time. I was always sad when it was time to go home on Sunday evening. I never wanted to leave grandma's house.

Sunday dinner was one of the best parts of the day. Whatever the occasion, family was there. Uncles,aunts,cousins..and food, there was so much food! Roast turkey and dressing, greens, macaroni and cheese, potato salad, raisin pie and some sort of  fruit cobbler...and ice cream, there was always ice cream. I remember that I hated potato salad. I always complained, saying that it didn't go together. "Who eats potato salad with turkey and dressing, I grumbled". Why not mashed potatoes and gravy?  clearly my opinion didn't matter. When I was growing up, you ate what you got and that was it. I had no choice in the matter. It makes me laugh thinking about those times. My mother later explained to me that it was a family tradition. Her grandmother made potato salad. In fact, many of the recipes that my grandmother made were the same recipes that her mother made. My mother also made the same recipes, the same way. Now I understood..cooking and recipes came from the ancestors, passed down through the generations, mother to daughter, grandmother to granddaughter. Now I get it.

Years later, grown and married with children of my own. There I was still going to church with my grandma. I loved spending  the weekend with her. Waking up to the smell of the roast turkey that she had put in the oven at the crack of dawn. I could hear the word of the gospel playing on the television that she listened to as she got dressed. As we sat in church, I'd smile to myself as she still tried to put  money in my hand for the collection plate like she did when I was a child. Maybe in her eyes I would always be her little granddaughter.

It's funny how life changes. I now make the same potato salad that I used to hate, as well as all the other recipes passed down. Grandma's no longer here. But I can still hear her say.  Always Thank God. Everyday. Thank him, Thank him and Thank him.


Denise

Meeting Grandma Prater: The Fleming's of Brownsville,Tennessee

Edith Fleming-Prater 1922

I remember the day that I met my husbands paternal Great Grandmother, Edith Elizabeth Fleming Prater. He had always spoke of her, saying that she had this tiny voice. It was soft, yet high pitched. Making her sound very young. He told me that when he and his sisters went to  grandma Prater's house as children, there were never any other children or family around. No cousins, aunts or uncles. It was so strange. Different than most families. Already the curiosity about grandma Prater's family history was brewing. Where was her family?  It was Thanksgiving day that year and my father in law had brought her home from the nursing home to spend the day with the family. I approached the woman in the wheelchair with caution. Looking back, I think I was a bit nervous. When she spoke, I noticed her  very tiny voice. It was my children's first time meeting her also. She seemed fascinated with my son, who was just a little boy back then. She hugged him and started to cry when she heard his name. He is the 4th generation of the family name, Charles. I could see that she had a very special bond with her grandson, Charles, ( my father in law) who she raised as her son. Meeting her that day only made me more curious to find out all about her history. And so the questions began..

Edith was born in November of 1904 in  Memphis,Tennessee to  Robert Fleming and Jennie King. As far as I know she only had one sibling, a sister named Vivian. I began searching for her in the census records and was surprised that I found her so easily. For every census year up to 1930, I found Edith living with her grandparents, Emmet and Elizabeth Fleming and her father Robert Fleming. It appeared that she was raised by her grandparents. Her mother, Jennie was no where to be found in the census. I wondered where she was? After the death of Edith's grandmother, Elizabeth. Edith and her family moved to Cincinnati, Ohio. According to the story my Father in law told me, Grandma Prater (Edith) was expecting. Being an unwed mother, she was being sent away to stay with relatives in Buffalo New York. The picture shown above was taken when she was getting ready to leave. I wonder who lived in New York..Another clue to figure out. After her daughter, Mary Louise was born, Edith came back to Cincinnati, Ohio. It was there that she met Albert Thomas Prater. They were married in 1925. He was from Newman, Georgia. His parents were Israel Prater and Cornelia Huggins. Thomas had three sisters, Lola, Ida Belle and Sarah.

Edith and Thomas moved to Minneapolis, Mn about 1946 with their young grandson Charles.Thomas opened a grocery store called Prater's Grocery. The family lived in the back of the store. They later moved to a house in south Minneapolis. Years later Thomas and Edith both worked for the U.S. Navy department. Thomas died in 1977 and Edith died in 1990.


Looking For the Fleming Family:

As I continued to trace the history of Grandma Edith Prater. I started searching for her father Robert. I found him living in Brownsville, Haywood county, Tennessee. As I sifted through census records, and went back further. I found Robert along with his parents and siblings. By the time that I reached the 1870 census I felt like I found gold! There was Robert's father, Emmet, his parents Thomas and Harriet Fleming and a load of brothers and sisters and their families. A whole page of Flemings!  Peter and Melissa Austin were living next door. I had heard the name "Austin" before. I have a hunch that Melissa was Thomas and Harriett's daughter. From 1870-1940 they stayed in the same place. Brownsville, Tennessee. According to the  census, they were all farmers. I wondered how life was for them. So this was Grandma Prater's family. Now I have to try to put the families together and find out who they were. along with locating the slave owner..more to come.

1870 Census- Brownsville,Haywood co, TN

Robert Fleming-Father of Edith Fleming Prater

Denise 

© 2014 Denise Muhammad 

The Pain Of Genealogy

My father,with my sister and brother-about 1968

After my recent post, I spoke with my sister over the phone. We talked about many things, mainly about our parents, our history and the mystery of  Grandpa Ollie's name, TAYLOR. Which isn't really his name. My sisters are amazing, the encouragement that I get from them to continue blogging and search for our family's past is awesome! They are all my team. Our conversation made me realize something that I never thought of before. That tracing our Genealogy brings pain. I didn't realize that as much as we want to know about our father's past, that it would hurt so many to dig into it?. Pain is definitely the gift that no one wants. 

I think that sometimes the pain of remembering the past is just to difficult for some, especially the elders. They just don't want to talk. They will tell you in a heartbeat that they don't know anything. Short and to the point! like, don't ask me, I don't really want to talk about it. I have heard it so many times before. I was recently asked, "Why in the world would you want to look up dead people? " Yes, that bothered me. However, It does not stop me. I realize that I am supposed to tell their stories.

If you can get them to talk, good for you! Fortunately I was blessed with a grandmother that wanted to share her history and always pushed me to find out more about our ancestors. She once told me about a cousin that had started researching the family and uncovered some big family secret and stopped researching. We never did find out what that secret was. They come from a different generation, when children were seen and not heard. Grandma used to say that you just didn't ask questions back in those days. Oh, if only I would've of been a fly on the wall!

I have learned that there is a method to asking questions, always be respectful and don't push. They talk when they are ready. Be patient. Although digging into our past can sometimes be very painful and feelings and emotions surface that we thought we buried deep in us long ago..The pain becomes a real and necessary process on the journey to finding who we are and where we come from, the struggles our ancestors endured and the sacrifices they made.

The Pain of Genealogy, it's all part of the process as we follow the footsteps of our ancestors. Let go and follow the spirit! 

 

 

© 2013 Denise Muhammad