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People we remember
Biographies are where we share about family & friends to connect with others who remember them.
Daniel Pinna:
DAISY PRICE MELTON, 103 years old, left us on Jan. 22, 2005. Services were held in Phila. on Jan. 29, 2005. Daisy was born in Johnsville, GA on May 18, 1901. We all will miss her warm smile and wonderful laugh. Devoted mother of Annie B., George, Millie, Thelma, Annie Davis and Bobby. Loving grandmother of 43; great grand mother of 122; great great grand mother of 60; great great great grand mother of 12; and a host of family and friends. We will all miss you.
- The Philadelphia Daily News, Friday February 4th 2005
Daniel Pinna:
tagged Daisy Melton in this photo.
Amelia Marie Floystrop:
"I saw the episode on the ID Network. I was really struck by his energy that he gave off. In spite of having such a terrible and traumatic upbringing he was still able to become an honorable young man. He obviously had a strong inner strength but inspite of all his hardships he gave off a softness that I found to be very comforting. I would have loved the opportunity to have met him in person. I admire his strength and thank him for his service. RIP Joshua , fly high and may you finally be at peace now with your Father."
Tina Rose:
The last words he spoke on the show touched me - I remember Joshua speaking about forgiveness and not allowing it to consume him or control his life. I wanted to hug the young man who is a month younger than my son. Then I saw the memory of him and broke down. I want you to know Josh,you touched many lives and helped others who were having trouble forgiving those who hurt them by sharing your story.Now you and your father will never be touched with evil but love, grace, and joy in Heaven.I hope and pray to make it to Heaven where my oldest son James is and give not only him a hug but the hug I wanted to give you Joshua. Thank you for serving this country, you fought in a war to keep us all free and safe after leaving a home where you almost lost your life in a war you had no control over and where you could have lost your life, you'd rather fight in a war for this country where you could have lost your life in also but knew in this war others had your back and meaning to it. God keep you and bless you, and put a smile on your beautiful face forever and forever is a long, long time.
Curtis Beitans:
The Argus. Melbourne. 7th September 1929.
MARRIAGES.
THOM - GILLIES.
On the 17 April, at Scotch College Chapel,
Hawthorn, by the Rev. Alex. Hardie, Reston
Nish, fifth son of the late Rev. and Mrs, Thom,
Heidelberg, to Katarian ( Trena ), McLean, third
daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Alex. Gillies, Glencairn,
Heidelberg.
Jan Robertson:
John was my baby brother. After John graduated he spent the summer with me in Minneapolis and after he returned to Ivanhoe he would visit me. We had a good relationship. We would go shopping, go to antique stores near Ivanhoe, casino by Pipestone, and just visiting, etc. I would talk to him everyday. I miss John and love him. I wish he was still with us. May God be kind to his soul, RIP.
Nancy Lewis:
Jennie Kenline was my dad’s great aunt. Our family was the only family she had, as far as I knew. I don’t remember how old I was when I first met her. Fairly young I’d say. As long as I knew her, until she moved in with my parents the last year of her life, she lived in Paradise, California. A lovely small town, then, in the mountains where the air smelled fresh and of pine trees. She owned a small house that was divided into two living areas. The smaller part was rented to another elderly woman named Katherine. They would communicate through a ‘window’ with a sliding hatch. I loved visiting Aunt Jennie. It was so peaceful and calm. She had no neighbors that could be seen because of all the tall trees. She had a screened in little summer house (really just a long rectangular building with half walls and half screening on all sides-some old furniture covered in bedspreads and sheets) where I would spend endless days enjoying cool breezes and reading endless stacks of very old Readers Digest issues. I slept out there, too. Since we only visited in the summer, the nights were cool, but not cold. Things smelled a bit dusty, but it was a friendly sort of smell. No one else ever spent time there, so it was my special place. Every evening about 5:00 Aunt Jennie would step out to her graveled driveway, set back in the trees away from the road, and call her cats. She had a special call for them and they listened. They were feral cats that she felt sorry for and would set out food every night. She was the only one they would come near. When she called them it would take a few minutes before you would see them cautiously peeking out of the woods. Looking for danger. Making sure no one else was around. I would be watching out the screen of the summer house as she called, so entranced to watch each cat come to eat. There were a couple of dozen. All colors and sizes. I felt such love for this small, hunched old lady who didn’t have much, but she was happy to care for animals without a home.
Her stove had a jar into which went every bit of grease left over from cooking. This was then added to whatever kind of gravy she was adding to the meal. I didn’t like gravy at the time, but everyone else absolutely loved her gravy. Though I’m willing to bet that they were a bit anxious about how old the contents of that jar were.
Aunt Jennie was sweet, kind and cheerful. Whenever something tickled, annoyed, or made her anxious, she would a “a ditty’s sake, a ditty’s sake” a number of times.
Things changed rapidly in Paradise during the ‘70s. A lot of development, vacation homes and increasing population began to change the entire feel of the town. A town that used to completely shut down at 6 pm each night. I got married and moved away, only seeing her once more before she passed away. My parents had her move in with them, she was 98 after all; but I think she was ashamed of being dependent on someone else. Having to leave her trees, cats and home to live in the city (suburb of Los Angeles) stole her will to live.
I wish now that I’d spent more time with her. Listened to stories of her youth. Let her know more often that she was loved.
It would be wonderful to know if anyone out there also has memories of her.
Catherine Ashenfelter-Villane:
Russell S. Ashenfelter, Sr. was my dad. - My dad passed when I was 30 years old. Unfortunately, I didn't know much about my dad. He was serving his country (WWII, Korea, and Vietnam) all of my life up to the age of 17. Dad didn't talk about his childhood or military service. I would give anything to know more about the man he was, his family history, and military experiences.
What I do know from the little time we shared, dad has a since of humor, loved nature, and was a proud man. He loved my sons, leaving them with memories they still recall even though they were 4 and 3 years old.
My dad was intelligent, hardworking, and his penmanship was breath, he was an accomplished reader. He joined the Navy in 1944 or early 1945.
I would love to hear from anyone who can share their knowledge, stories, and events about my dad, (Russell Stanley Ashenfelter, SR.).
Contact Catherine at [contact link] or call (719) 233-5966.
Janet Davis:
I'm Sena's Granddaughter - I'm thrilled to have finally found her! - My Name is Janet Davis (maiden name Parker) I only met Sena once, back in 1961 when I was just a year old. My mother (Deanna Parker) and my father (Gerald Wilson Parker) travelled all the way to West Virginia from California to visit and to introduce me to the family. We stayed for the summer and then later returned to California. My Mother use to tell me that my grandma White just adored me, and she fed me fresh milk straight from the cows on their farm. I never had the opportunity to return, due to my mom and dad's divorce. However, I never forgot the stories my mother would tell of our adventures driving cross country and the fun we had while visiting family.
I also remember my uncle Eugene, He was my favorite uncle! I read that he passed away back in 2007, as did my father, Gerald. I hope that some of my family on my father's side will see this and smile knowing that I "remember" Sena and wish that I had been able to get to know her better.
Michelle Roan:
My Gram - This was my grandmother (Gram) and was one of my most favorite people in the world. She had 8 children but she used to call me her 9th! I'm the 2nd oldest grandchild and spent more time at my grandparent's house than I did my own. They conveniently lived down the block.
She had 2 sisters (Dolores & Marge) and 4 brothers (Vincent, Joseph, Gerard, and William). When she got together with her sisters to play cards they laughed until they cried. I laughed too but I had no idea what I was laughing about lol. She was the kind of grandmother that let you hang out when she had card night with her sisters and she'd take me to practice old 1940s type dancing with her and her sisters and sisters in law. Why would a 9 or 10 year old girl want to do all of those things with her grandmother? Because she made it fun and I genuinely loved being around her.
We were a very working class Irish Catholic family. But, every Christmas my Gram and I would go and buy gifts for those in our neighborhood we knew were struggling. We didn't tell anyone and my grandmother made it clear that the people we were leaving the gifts for could never find that it was us. She said, "This isn't about glorifying what we are doing, it's not to brag. It's to do something nice even when you get nothing in return". Our parish had "shut-ins" which were the elderly that had difficulty cooking meals or doing chores. My grandmother would say to me, "let's go, we're visiting Mrs. Kelly today". Off we'd go and I knew what it meant. We WOULD visit Mrs. Kelly but we'd take turns sitting and talking to her while the other was washing the dishes or vacuuming or doing the laundry or heating up soup.
My grandmother left such a mark on me that I ended up getting a master's degree in social work. To be honest, I learned more from her than I did ever did in college. I named my daughter after her except I cheated a little and named my daughter Victoria Mary instead of Mary Victory (because I didn't want to put my kid through that...I mean, c'mon that's a weird name, Victory!).
Anyway, the day we lost her my mom just showed up at my work. I was like "What are you doing here?" It was like seeing your teacher at the supermarket. Work was work and my mom was...well, different than my work.
She said she didn't want to tell me over the phone but, "Gram died".
I had heard the term "primal scream" before but never thought I'd experience it. Well, I did. I don't remember it because I just kind of blacked out for a bit. She died of a pulmonary embolism at 72...2 days before her birthday. Then in 2014, my mom died at 62 of a pulmonary embolism. I had a blood clot (DVT) about 9 years ago in my upper arm (weird place to have one, I know). I'm on blood thinners now that the entire family has taken tests to see what was going on. I'm 51 now. Gram at 72, mom at 62...I tell my husband he better spoil me now bc we've only got a year left. I'm kidding (I think!). He doesn't think it's funny, but I got that dark sense of humor from my Grandpop (her husband).
Mary V. was one of a kind and I miss her (and my mom) every single day. I wish everyone was blessed with a Gram like her.
Mark Musser:
Mark Musser - I was a friend of Laurie's back while we were both attending LSU Shreveport during the '80s. I last saw her in 1996. We went out a few times, but were mainly friends. I recall her as a kind but somewhat melancholy person. We had lost contact after '97, and I called her mother around 2008 and learned of her passing in 2006. Rest in Peace, Laurie. I haven't forgotten you.
Gloria MCGUIGAN:
A childlike sweet soul - I met Martha working at Burdines Distribution Center. We quickly became friends and went through a few crossroads in our respective lives together. I have so many memories of her and her unique sense of humor. She tended to be blunt as a spoon and often would speak her mind. If you wanted an honest opinion of how your hair looked or how an outfit fit on you, ask Martha. She coined words like "amiguites" and La Madam which all her friends including me still use today.
I remember one funny anecdote of when we were working at Burdines together. She had put a candy in her mouth then promptly made a face and spit it out. She turns to me and says, "Este caramelo sabe a mierda. Quieres uno?" That means, This candy tastes like sh**. You want one? I burst out laughing because she was being serious not joking. I answered, "After that eloquent review? No thanks.
I dream of her sometimes and I'd like to believe it's her spirit visiting with me a while. I miss you amiguites. I know you're keeping Jesus laughing with your beautifully innocent and funny antics.
James Weathers:
We Miss you everyday dad. - What a great life you made for all your family. You were a success in every meaning of the word. The traditional family vacations,Picnics, Christmas memories, Surprises, Laughs, Family projects, and the Ethics and Morals you installed in all of us. You have been gone 38 years and we’re still learning from you. I’m not sure where you learned all you knew and we miss you everyday. You were a great example to follow and one day we will all be together. Pat and Mom are with you now and I’m sure you are still taking care of everything. Thanks for being my dad and for doing and giving all you did to make us happy. You never met Barb but I’m Positive you and she will get along great when that day comes. She’s a lot like you. I can still see you laughing at the kitchen table and cooking the meals while we were on vacation, adding our beloved Pets into the family. You gave so much to make us all a real family.
I miss you and your always with me. Jim
Dottie Barrett:
"David" actually went by "McCoy" or "Mac" - David McCoy Richardson was my father. Almost everyone called him "Mac", a shortened version of his middle name McCoy.
I loved him very much. He was strict, but kind at the same time. When I was a young teenager, he had me deliver "The Air Force Times" on my bicycle so I wouldn't become lazy. At first I hated it, but later came to appreciate it and him more because of it.
His death was one of the hardest things that has ever happened to me. The day of his death was my 17th birthday. I didn't celebrate my birthday for many years afterwards.
I love you Daddy and I still miss you...
