Site centers around the descendants of John W. and Sarah Kilgore of Nauvoo, Alabama who had 9 children and 30 grandchildren, the Kilgore Cousins. The family has multiplied and is scattered throughout the US. This site is an aid to connect and rediscover each other as family.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
A SMALL CARD WITH BIG INSTRUCTIONS
My Daddy, Cecil Warren Kilgore worked for the Alabama Forestry Commission for many years as Forest Ranger of Winston Co., Alabama. Since his death, April 12, 2012, we have been going through drawers, closets, clothes, and old papers discovering all kinds of kept items. One such item is a card found among some calling cards on file entitled SALESMANSHIP FOR FORESTERS. The instructions are appropriate for all of us and so I share them now in tribute to the way Daddy treated people and the kind of person he was.
THE ELEVEN KEYS TO DEALING WITH PEOPLE
by Eliot W. Zimmerman
1. Accept people just as they are.
2. Help people to be right.
3. Use a professional approach.
4. Be confident.
5. Put people at ease.
6. Retain your poise.
7. Be brief in conversation.
8. Be consistent, sincere, courteous, and friendly.
9. Help people to feel important.
10. Know your subject well enough to sell it.
11. Use the indirect approach.
On the back of the instructional card was a worn-off heading. All I can make out is RELATIONS POINTS TO MEMBERS with a sub-title of OVER-ALL RULES:
1. DO IT FIRST. 2. DO IT RIGHT. 3. REMEMBER THE KEYS.
A. Ask questions to win cooperation. Ask for favors, opinions.
B. Be brief to clear up trouble. Use your ears.
C. Confidence in yourself to control others.
D. Directness to reach people. The shortest distance between two points is still a straight line.
E. Earnestness to arouse enthusiasm. Be sincere.
F. Friendliness to overcome opposition.
G. Good-Finding to uncover ability. Ability withers under faultfinding and blossoms under good- finding.
H. Harness Criticism to win cooperation, not resentment.
I. Increase self-esteem in others. Make people feel important and they love you; unimportant, they hate you.
J. Jingle Praise to get best effort. Give a pat on the back.
K. KNOW PEOPLE. People are interested in you only when you are interested in them.
Aren't the instructions on that small card to the point and simply stated? They remind me of the Proverbs found in the Old Testament. It would be a better world if we all would adhere to the wisdom found within each simple statement. I would sum it all up by saying we should follow the Golden Rule: "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." Go out and practice the KEYS.
SING-cerely,
Johnny Kilgore
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Cecil Kilgore Tribute
TRIBUTE TO MY DAD (Revised)
(Eulogy written and shared by Johnny Kilgore, oldest son at
the funeral, April 15, 2012. A big jug of well water and two caps were placed on top of the pulpit at the beginning of the Eulogy. An asterisk indicates additions to the Eulogy since the funeral.)
My Dad lived a long life HIS WAY. Some people might say he was curious and peculiar because he
didn’t follow the norm. But the
Bible mentions that we as Christians should be a peculiar people. I would prefer to say that Daddy was
just different in the most wonderful ways. His way adds to the legacy of memories for his children and
grandchildren. Some adjectives
that describe Dad are consistent, conservative, unchanging (emphasis on the "c"), committed, calm and
caring.—all begin with “C” for Cecil.
Not in particular order of importance I wish to share with
you some of the things Dad loved.
- Daddy loved his family. His love for mother was not what you would call demonstrate in our eyes, but it was shown in the old fashion way. And that was by providing a home, security, and commitment. Daddy was always there for our mother. They were married for 70 years which speaks for itself in this day and time. He displayed his love for his children by demanding respect and obedience. He did not spare the rod, nor spoiled the child. He was a consistent rock in our lives. He saw that his family went to church and grew up in church. All his children are personal followers of Jesus Christ and serve in churches.
- He loved music. When we get together at Christmas one of the fond memories is Daddy singing “O Beautiful Star of Bethlehem” a cappella. I can recall as a child seeing Dad play his guitar as he and mother sang a duet. We were a musical family, singing in churches, playing instruments, playing in school bands and serving churches on staff in the area of music. Dad encouraged studying and being involved in music.
- Dad loved the idea of going to school and getting that degree. He saw that all this children attended college. He valued schooling and what it could do for you. Therefore, the University of Alabama, Auburn University, Jacksonville State University, Samford university, University of Alabama, Birmingham, Auburn University, Montgomery, University of Montevalo, Middle Tennessee State University, Snead College, Beville State, Walker College, and the University of California are schools that his children and or his grandchildren have degrees from. From Bachelor degrees, Masters degrees, and one Ph D, Dad receives the credit for instilling in us the value of a college education.
- Daddy loved the land. He lived and owned the land of his Father. He left his children the legacy of the land. He always said it was important because they are not making any more of it. He cared and farmed the land on the side as he worked for the Alabama Forestry Commission. There would be a big garden, a pea patch, a cornfield, or a watermelon patch. Daddy has left us the land and he always emphasized the importance of it staying in the family.
- He loved work. Daddy would create work. He was never idle. We knew he was sick if he was just sitting there. He instilled a strong work ethnic in his children. He was determined, task oriented. He didn’t have a lot of patience with people who were lazy. But he would do things he would not let his children do - like climbing the tin roof of Granny Kilgore’s old house at age 88. He was a man of work always finding something to do.
- Dad loved caps. He has over 30 something caps in his bedroom. Many of the caps were given to him from his nephew, Jimmy Kilgore of Kilgore Hardware and from my brother, Mike. Dad was always sharing his caps and I have quite a few he has given me. The last time I saw him is asked, “Do you need a cap?” Daddy had already given me quite a few caps.
- Daddy loved the Lord. He was saved at a young age in a cornfield. His salvation experience was very real and vivid. He told us on more than one occasion that he was ready to die because he was going to go to a better place. His church membership was at New Oak Grove Freewill Baptist Church in Nauvoo, Alabama. Daddy would sit in his lounge chair next to a table and lamp reading his Bible in his private devotion. He left us with a Christian legacy. We each have a strong faith. The Lord has been good to the Kilgore family. Dad trained us up in the Lord and as we have grown older we have not departed from that teaching.
- * He loved this country. Daddy served in the Army of the United States during Worship War II. He was honorable discharged in October, 1945. He was called up that last year of the war. His training was in Camp McCoy in Wisconsin. He never did have to go over seas because the war was over in August, 1945. Daddy was always concerned about the direction the country was going. He never frowned on the amount of taxes he had to pay because he said our country needed the money in order to function. He was always up on who was running for office in the local, state, and national elections and always went to the polls to vote for who he considered the best man for the position.
- * Daddy loved the Masons. He became a Master Mason in 1947 and served for over 65 years in the Double Springs, Lamon Chapel, and Black Creek Masonic Lodges.
Of the many things Dad loved, there are things he didn’t
like. I want to share some of
those with you.
He
didn’t like crowds. I’m
surprised he would even showed up today for his own funeral. It didn’t matter if it were
a family reunion or a homecoming, after making his appearance, he would
fade away.
He didn’t like going to the doctor. Going there might make you sick. We could not get him to go to a doctor for any reason when
it fell or when he was having problems with his throat. He would always doctor himself.
He didn’t like taking medicine. Therefore at Age 91, he wasn’t taking any thing. That is something you don’t hear of
this day and time.
He didn’t like fancy food. Peanut butter and crackers were his staple. He could put away a good banana pudding
though.
He didn’t like wasting money. He shopped for a bargain and he was very good at it. When he bought his last car he went to
various cities for the best deal and finally found it at Jim Skinner Ford in
Birmingham near where I live, paying cash for it. He didn’t like credit because it meant paying all that
interest. He was thrifty.
*The last day I saw him alive was Tuesday prior to his death on Thursday, April 12. During the Tuesday visit, I showed Daddy my new plaid shirt jacket I had purchased from Walmart for $3.00. He said, "You got that for $3?" Mother was going to Jasper for a doctor's appointment. He could not get the $3 jacket off his mind. He asked Mother to go by Walmart to buy him a shirt like mine. I told him he could have mine. He said, "Oh, no, I don't want to take yours." I told him that I purchased two jackets and that he could have this one because I didn't need two. That satisfied him. At the end of my visit, I mentioned that I was leaving him the plaid shirt jacket because I don't need it. He was pleased. But personally, I don't know if Daddy like the shirt jacket or if he liked the idea it only cost $3. It was quite a bargain. Daddy never got to wear the shirt before he died.
*The last day I saw him alive was Tuesday prior to his death on Thursday, April 12. During the Tuesday visit, I showed Daddy my new plaid shirt jacket I had purchased from Walmart for $3.00. He said, "You got that for $3?" Mother was going to Jasper for a doctor's appointment. He could not get the $3 jacket off his mind. He asked Mother to go by Walmart to buy him a shirt like mine. I told him he could have mine. He said, "Oh, no, I don't want to take yours." I told him that I purchased two jackets and that he could have this one because I didn't need two. That satisfied him. At the end of my visit, I mentioned that I was leaving him the plaid shirt jacket because I don't need it. He was pleased. But personally, I don't know if Daddy like the shirt jacket or if he liked the idea it only cost $3. It was quite a bargain. Daddy never got to wear the shirt before he died.
He didn’t like calling on someone else fixing things around
the house when he could do it himself.
He was very good at fixing things.
He even would tell a professional plumber how to put in a toilet because
he could do so much.
He didn’t like “city water.” Water was important to him. His day, my grandfather was a jack of many trades—one was
digging wells. On many an occasion
Daddy would talk about the different wells we have had through the years. He attributed his good health to
drinking good well water. He would
carry his well water with him to work.
He would provide us his well water in plastic jugs. There was a ritual in drawing the well
water. This will be one of our fond memories because we did this together in the last years of his life.
* He didn't like litter on the roadways. He would walk a mile on both sides of Winston County Road 21 in front of the old home place, picking up trash that people discarded. He would easily get two bags full of trash from that road side. His back problems did not deter him, even at age 90 from picking up the trash. He had a special tool he used to assist him, but he still had to bend over low to the ground. Picking up the trash was very important to him and one the activities he made sure was done. It was something we did together in his last year of his life for which I will always remember.
Daddy left us with many wonderful memories. He was a good Daddy. He was a man of reason, a man of
integrity and a man of determination and strength. He is loved by his children.
I wish to thank New Oak Grove Freewill Baptist Church,
Pastor, Brother Mickey Crane for all the church has done. I wish to thank all those connections
through the relationship of the children, my church, Ridgecrest Baptist Church
of Trussville, my sister’s church, New Prospect Baptist Church in Jasper, my
brother, Ricky’s place of work, and my brother, Mike’s connections through his
work at ALFA for all the kindnesses shown. But most of all I want to thank my Lord and Savior, Jesus
Christ for what He has done for this family. The Lord has blessed us so during Daddy's life and now in Daddy’s
death.
I sign off now. The oldest son, Johnny Kilgore
I sign off now. The oldest son, Johnny Kilgore
Friday, March 30, 2012
MY AUNTS, MY UNCLE, & MY DAD
Uncle Grady and my Dad, Cecil were surrounded by female siblings. Because Lou Etta was the oldest, she was called "Sis" by all. She was much like a second mother to all of her brothers and sisters. She was a very good mother, too.
During one of our visits to Muscle Shoals, Alabama, Sis gave the Cecil Kilgore family a beautiful Samoyed puppy. We named the dog, Snowball because it looked like a snowball--white, round, and soft. The dog grew into a beautiful animal and enriched our lives. We were heart-broken when Snowball was killed as a result of chasing a car down the road in front of Granny Kilgore's house. Sis's generosity and the love of a dog, gave us many playful and precious childhood experiences that I will never forget.
Aunt Dolly was always a gracious host and a wonderful cook. Not long after my wife, Pat and I married, we met up with Mother, Daddy, Ricky and Rebecca at Aunt Dolly's house. Pat and I had just come from a big dinner and were not very hungry at all. Dolly was insistent that she prepare some food for the family, and of course, us too. She fixed hotdogs with all the trimmings. I forced one hotdog down. My wife being resourceful took the hotdogs, wrapped them in a napkin, and placed them in her purse. Aunt Dolly didn't know and we thought it quite humorous.
Aunt Ruby lived in the big city which I wrote about in a previous blog post. There was a time when Uncle Johnny and Aunt Ruby decided to move. They moved to Crestwood in another part of Birmingham, but further from the city center. I can recall Aunt Ruby telling us about the swimming pool in her backyard. Not ever seeing the pool, the backyard, nor the house itself, I imagined a "Hollywood pool" setting. At some later point, we did visit their new home and to my surprise, there was the swimming pool--a Walmart wading pool for little kids.
Aunt Lois was a home body who made her home warm and inviting. I can recall the day that her home burned to the ground, and nothing was savaged except a big family Bible which came out of the ashes.
It was a sad day, but the Bible was a sign of God's providence. Friends and neighbors assisted, and the home was built back bigger and better. I can recall all the animals around that "bigger and better house," especially the guinea hens and the tame turkeys freely roaming the backyard around the old well. There was always something going on around Aunt Lois' house, and most of the time it involved her kitchen stove and sitting around the big dinner table.
Aunt Ruth loved to laugh. She always had a joke to tell because she enjoyed the funny things in life. I can recall when Aunt Ruth and Ted first moved to Guntersville, Alabama they lived in a house located on a high cliff overlooking the road that went to the Guntersville State Park. There was no yard, just a dropoff. It was safer in the house than outside. Ruth cooked us a wonderful dinner during the visit. There was one catch to the menu--She and mother attempted to tell us children that the meat was country fried steak smoldered in gravy. I took one bite and spit it out. It was liver!
Aunt Lorene was the baby of the family. She lived in Birmingham during my teenage years and then she and the family moved to Miami, Florida. My dad let me visit Aunt Lorene's home in Eastlake for an entire week one summer. I experienced a real "Hollywood" swimming pool--the Cascade Plunge. That was the biggest swimming pool I had ever seen. It was like something you only saw in the movies. There were people everywhere. The experience was definitely different from swimming in creeks and water holes of Winston County.
My "one moment memories" of the Kilgore sisters move on now to the two boys--Grady and my dad, Cecil. Grady was a working man. My dad was a working man. Both men, the oldest and the youngest, had very similar traits. The one exception is that Grady also knew how to relax. My dad's relaxation was working.
My "one moment memory" of Grady is his staying away from home to work on the railroad and when he got home there were cores to do around the house. I recall his plowing the field with his old mule. He liked to share the chocolate cakes that his wife, Nettie made for the family.
My Dad's memory is quite different than what you would know and expect of him. There was a time when we did not go to church on Sunday nights. One Sunday night, my brother, Mike, and I begged Daddy to take us to church, but to no avail. I had a little pedal car at the time, so we told our parents that we would just go to church any way and we would go in the pedal car. It didn't matter to us that it was nighttime and it was very dark outside. We were probably 5 and 7 years old at the time.
Daddy told us to go ahead, and so we did! I would pedal a while and Mike would be behind the little car pushing. Then Mike would pedal while I pushed. As we were approaching Granny Kilgore's house, Mike and I saw a faint figure down the road ahead of us. We could not make the figure out, but it was making some scary sounds. Instead of running away, we pressed on down the road, pushing and pedaling. We soon saw the figure clearly--a ghost, white sheet and all. We just pedaled faster and pushed harder, hoping to quickly pass the ghost so we could get to church. The ghost, seeing that we were not changing course, took the white sheet off, and said, "Come on, boys! Let's go back home." It was Daddy. We turned the little car around and headed home, relieved that the ghost was friendly, but disappointed that we had not been able to get to church!
In summary, our life has been enriched through the visits and the meals shared around the tables of the John and Sarah Kilgore children--my aunts, my uncle, and my dad. I have been blessed to have such a family.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
A Tree
There is a well known poem written by Joyce Kilmer (1886-1918) entitled TREES.
The poem goes like this.
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
Many of us recall the stately and majestic trees on Papa and Granny Kilgore's old home place. The enormous old oak trees that graced the landscape around the old house were beautiful. They also served as shade through the years and even recreation as we swung from a rope in a rubber tire hanging from one of the large branches. Just as we have gotten older with our aches and pains, so likewise, the trees of our childhood have resulted in signs of old age.
Over two years ago the worst happened when the large tree closest to the old house split open and a hugh part of it landed on the tin roof of the back portion of the house where the old kitchen was originally . The structure was not damaged, but the roof sure was. When I heard the news, I was heart-broken. At first, my Dad mentioned burning the house down, but after some discussion and persuasion, he agreed to have someone cut the tree up and then repair the tin roof.
You can see the evidence of that great tree because the base remains next to the house. Though the tree had looked strong, it was truly weak. The tree was infested with carpenter ants and had a hollow inside core. This can also be true with people's lives. Just know that only God can make a tree. Certainly it is God who can only make our hollow lives, full and complete. Trees are a part of God's creation and do point to Him. But even more so, our family is also God's creation and I pray we all will point to Him. I leave you with that thought.
The poem goes like this.
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
Many of us recall the stately and majestic trees on Papa and Granny Kilgore's old home place. The enormous old oak trees that graced the landscape around the old house were beautiful. They also served as shade through the years and even recreation as we swung from a rope in a rubber tire hanging from one of the large branches. Just as we have gotten older with our aches and pains, so likewise, the trees of our childhood have resulted in signs of old age.
Over two years ago the worst happened when the large tree closest to the old house split open and a hugh part of it landed on the tin roof of the back portion of the house where the old kitchen was originally . The structure was not damaged, but the roof sure was. When I heard the news, I was heart-broken. At first, my Dad mentioned burning the house down, but after some discussion and persuasion, he agreed to have someone cut the tree up and then repair the tin roof.
You can see the evidence of that great tree because the base remains next to the house. Though the tree had looked strong, it was truly weak. The tree was infested with carpenter ants and had a hollow inside core. This can also be true with people's lives. Just know that only God can make a tree. Certainly it is God who can only make our hollow lives, full and complete. Trees are a part of God's creation and do point to Him. But even more so, our family is also God's creation and I pray we all will point to Him. I leave you with that thought.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
CHILDHOOD MEMORY OF VISITING THE BIG CITY
One of the greatest comedians of all time, Bob Hope would end his TV shows with the song, "Thanks for the Memories." Memories hold images of our past, both good and bad. They are also more than just images. They are our "back to the future."
I have asked on our recently established "Kilgore Cousins Facebook Group Site" to reflect on the past at Granny and Papa Kilgore's old home place. Some cousins have written about their thoughts around Uncle Grady, Granny and Papa Kilgore, and the farm (in Winston County) on what was Route 3, Nauvoo, Alabama during my growing up years, but reassigned as Winston County Road 21 in recent years. Different addresses; same location. Today, County Road 21 becomes Poplar Springs Road when crossing the Winston-Walker county line. Same road, different designations. We as people traveling down the same road have different memories which project on our mental movie screens. The old gospel song, "Precious Memories" speaks of how they linger and flood our soul.
I share with you one such memory as a young boy from the country visiting the big city. Being from Nauvoo and never going anywhere far from home, it was always a special treat to go to the big city of Birmingham to visit relatives. Birmingham was a different world from my simple life in the country.
Old Birmingham Highway, US 78 was a two lane road filled with curves and extremely different from our present age of interstates and straight four lane roads. To a young boy, it seemed to take all day to get to the big city. When the family got there, it was evident that life was different. My eyes took it all in. So many cars, all traveling so fast -- the electric street cars in the middle of the streets filled with passengers going to work or going shopping -- the sky reflecting a flaming red color on the night sky, filled with smoke both day and night.
My sight was not the only sense actively taking it all in. My nose took in the smell of the city as well. The scent of gas exhaust from all the cars -- the smell of factories producing pig iron -- and in contrast, the sweet fragrance of fresh bread being baked down the street.
All the differences, except the fresh bread (there was a store down the street with fresh bread), went away when we arrived at 16th St., North Birmingham to visit Uncle Johnny, a big city policeman and my Aunt Ruby, one of daddy's sisters. This was the home of my cousins, Billy, Betty, Barbara, and Nelda. Whether right or wrong, I looked up to them because they were my big city cousins.
The Chadwick home was beautiful. It was a multi-level dwelling. The top level, flush with the front street, was home to renters which supplemented the family income. The renter's entrance was in the front of the house at street level where the side walk was. The middle level was partially under ground with its entrance on the side. There were windows above ground on this level to let the natural light in. The steps to this entrance had four or five descending steps with a retaining wall on each side. This middle level is where Uncle Johnny, Aunt Ruby, and my cousins lived. Then the bottom level was a basement which you could not see from the front or the side, but was completely above ground from the the back of the house. When Billy was older the basement became his bedroom and living area. It was like a "man cave." Basements were foreign to me, and it was as though I was going deep underground into a cave as I descended down the circular stairs into a large space where Billy lived.
As you can tell, my Aunt and Uncle's home was so different from the small one level farm house I lived in. One eye-catching difference was the side yard with its beautiful flowers and shrubs. A landscaped yard was something we didn't have in the country. But the main feature catching the eye was the fish pond filled with goldfish and green lacy water plants. Another difference from my small house was the actual size of Aunt Ruby and Uncle Johnny's living space. I recall the living room with its nice furniture. It was a room we only passed through to get to the rest of the house. There was the wall-to-wall built in china cabinet and high ceiling of the formal dining room. The family gathering place was in the kitchen area and a small room off from it. I don't recall much about these spaces. I do remember that for one of our meals Aunt Ruby fed us the tastiest hot dogs with frozen orange juice concentrate, water added and mixed to drink. It was the first time I ever had frozen orange juice.
As I grew older, my world enlarged and my view of things expanded. I discovered even with the differences we experience, life is made richer because of our differences and the different places we live. I now live in the big city of Birmingham. The home in which I live has a basement that is totally underground. What was new and big has now become common place. But there is one thing that bridges the gap between childhood and present day -- country and city -- MEMORIES.
Johnny Kilgore, contributor
I have asked on our recently established "Kilgore Cousins Facebook Group Site" to reflect on the past at Granny and Papa Kilgore's old home place. Some cousins have written about their thoughts around Uncle Grady, Granny and Papa Kilgore, and the farm (in Winston County) on what was Route 3, Nauvoo, Alabama during my growing up years, but reassigned as Winston County Road 21 in recent years. Different addresses; same location. Today, County Road 21 becomes Poplar Springs Road when crossing the Winston-Walker county line. Same road, different designations. We as people traveling down the same road have different memories which project on our mental movie screens. The old gospel song, "Precious Memories" speaks of how they linger and flood our soul.
I share with you one such memory as a young boy from the country visiting the big city. Being from Nauvoo and never going anywhere far from home, it was always a special treat to go to the big city of Birmingham to visit relatives. Birmingham was a different world from my simple life in the country.
Old Birmingham Highway, US 78 was a two lane road filled with curves and extremely different from our present age of interstates and straight four lane roads. To a young boy, it seemed to take all day to get to the big city. When the family got there, it was evident that life was different. My eyes took it all in. So many cars, all traveling so fast -- the electric street cars in the middle of the streets filled with passengers going to work or going shopping -- the sky reflecting a flaming red color on the night sky, filled with smoke both day and night.
My sight was not the only sense actively taking it all in. My nose took in the smell of the city as well. The scent of gas exhaust from all the cars -- the smell of factories producing pig iron -- and in contrast, the sweet fragrance of fresh bread being baked down the street.
All the differences, except the fresh bread (there was a store down the street with fresh bread), went away when we arrived at 16th St., North Birmingham to visit Uncle Johnny, a big city policeman and my Aunt Ruby, one of daddy's sisters. This was the home of my cousins, Billy, Betty, Barbara, and Nelda. Whether right or wrong, I looked up to them because they were my big city cousins.
The Chadwick home was beautiful. It was a multi-level dwelling. The top level, flush with the front street, was home to renters which supplemented the family income. The renter's entrance was in the front of the house at street level where the side walk was. The middle level was partially under ground with its entrance on the side. There were windows above ground on this level to let the natural light in. The steps to this entrance had four or five descending steps with a retaining wall on each side. This middle level is where Uncle Johnny, Aunt Ruby, and my cousins lived. Then the bottom level was a basement which you could not see from the front or the side, but was completely above ground from the the back of the house. When Billy was older the basement became his bedroom and living area. It was like a "man cave." Basements were foreign to me, and it was as though I was going deep underground into a cave as I descended down the circular stairs into a large space where Billy lived.
As you can tell, my Aunt and Uncle's home was so different from the small one level farm house I lived in. One eye-catching difference was the side yard with its beautiful flowers and shrubs. A landscaped yard was something we didn't have in the country. But the main feature catching the eye was the fish pond filled with goldfish and green lacy water plants. Another difference from my small house was the actual size of Aunt Ruby and Uncle Johnny's living space. I recall the living room with its nice furniture. It was a room we only passed through to get to the rest of the house. There was the wall-to-wall built in china cabinet and high ceiling of the formal dining room. The family gathering place was in the kitchen area and a small room off from it. I don't recall much about these spaces. I do remember that for one of our meals Aunt Ruby fed us the tastiest hot dogs with frozen orange juice concentrate, water added and mixed to drink. It was the first time I ever had frozen orange juice.
As I grew older, my world enlarged and my view of things expanded. I discovered even with the differences we experience, life is made richer because of our differences and the different places we live. I now live in the big city of Birmingham. The home in which I live has a basement that is totally underground. What was new and big has now become common place. But there is one thing that bridges the gap between childhood and present day -- country and city -- MEMORIES.
Johnny Kilgore, contributor
Sunday, January 15, 2012
KILGORE OLD HOME PLACE MEMORIES
This past week I have actively been involved in the Kilgore Cousins Group on facebook. Since the site was set up, we have doubled the number of relatives in the group. But in viewing the activity, the posts and comments have been active for just a few in the group. That certainly doesn't diminish the importance of these posts and the involvement of those participating. My desire is that we truly see "kilgore cousins" group involvement from the 3rd and 4th generations of John Wesley Virgil Kilgore. Those generations have no ties to the Kilgore old home place in Nauvoo, Alabama but they are our future and they have been left a great legacy.
How many people in this world can return to the house and the land where their great grandmother or great grandfather was raised? My wife, Pat who is an Albertville, Alabama native cannot even return to the houses where her own mother and father were raised. We are fortunate that we can return to the actually house build in the early 1900's by our own Grandpa. A very large and special family was raised in that house. That is why the house, barns, and land are sacred to us all.
The Kilgore old home place evokes memories in the minds of all the first cousins. Many of us stayed overnight with Granny when she was left a widow. Papa Kilgore died in December 1949. We each had our season in the role of providing nightly companionship for Granny. But at first, one of her children and their spouse moved in with Granny so she would not be along. I do not recall the order of the children's stay because I was only five years old at the time. At some point, the grandchildren took over fulfilling that role and it was a memorable one. But as I got older at some point Carolyn McKeever and I stayed with Granny every night.
The house had only one heated room which served as the both the seating area and the bedroom. The room's furnishings were simple and functional. There was a sewing machine on the corner wall, rocking chairs around the fireplace or later on, the stove, and there were two beds. The bathroom was a "pee pot" under Granny's bed which was emptied every morning after a night's stay. The beds had iron bedsteads and mattresses that would sink in the middle.
We all slept in the same room; Granny in one bed and Carolyn and I in the other bed. This would be unheard in today's world. That arrangement was stopped by our parents when I reached puberty. Never could understand that at my naive age. Following Carolyn and me, my brother, Mike and my cousin, Jim too over. They became the official nighttime companions for Granny.
What memories of those days! Granny would tell us all kinds of stories as we lay in the bed. Most I've forgotten, but some I do recall. One centered around the death of Uncle Johnnie who was killed in motor cycle wreck coming home from Birmingham in 1939. Granny was good at telling "ghost stories." I regret that many memories have gotten suppressed over the years. Let's dig into our memory banks and see if we can relive those days through the memories recalled. I look forward to hearing from you all.www.facebook.com/groups/kilgorecousins/
Johnny Kilgore
How many people in this world can return to the house and the land where their great grandmother or great grandfather was raised? My wife, Pat who is an Albertville, Alabama native cannot even return to the houses where her own mother and father were raised. We are fortunate that we can return to the actually house build in the early 1900's by our own Grandpa. A very large and special family was raised in that house. That is why the house, barns, and land are sacred to us all.
The Kilgore old home place evokes memories in the minds of all the first cousins. Many of us stayed overnight with Granny when she was left a widow. Papa Kilgore died in December 1949. We each had our season in the role of providing nightly companionship for Granny. But at first, one of her children and their spouse moved in with Granny so she would not be along. I do not recall the order of the children's stay because I was only five years old at the time. At some point, the grandchildren took over fulfilling that role and it was a memorable one. But as I got older at some point Carolyn McKeever and I stayed with Granny every night.
The house had only one heated room which served as the both the seating area and the bedroom. The room's furnishings were simple and functional. There was a sewing machine on the corner wall, rocking chairs around the fireplace or later on, the stove, and there were two beds. The bathroom was a "pee pot" under Granny's bed which was emptied every morning after a night's stay. The beds had iron bedsteads and mattresses that would sink in the middle.
We all slept in the same room; Granny in one bed and Carolyn and I in the other bed. This would be unheard in today's world. That arrangement was stopped by our parents when I reached puberty. Never could understand that at my naive age. Following Carolyn and me, my brother, Mike and my cousin, Jim too over. They became the official nighttime companions for Granny.
Johnny Kilgore
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Our Ancestry
I was doing a google search on my grandparents to see what I could find on the web. Surprisingly, I did find some information from the site http://wc.rootsweb.ancestry.com This is the fourth or fifth time, to post this information because I would either type a wrong date, a wrong name or the site would have the wrong birth date. The following is the corrected information.
My grandpa's father was William Malcolm Kilgore, born April 10, 1852 and his mother was Cordelia Townley Kilgore, born May, 1853. Grandpa's full name was John Wesley Virgil Kilgore, better known as "Virge" to his friends. Grandpa Kilgore was born February 28, 1880. Granny Kilgore's parents were Thomas Louis Noles, born October 6, 1844 in Georgia and Martha Jane King, born December 31, 1852 in Walker County, Alabama. Granny had a very long name--Sarah Louiza Martha Tabitha Noles. To her friends she was "Sarah". Granny and papa were married March 30, 1902 at the Noles' Home in Walker County around Nauvoo, Alabama. Papa was 22 years old and Granny was 20 years old when they "tied the knot." Ten children were born to John and Sarah Kilgore. The first child was born premature and did not live. As was customary in that day, the child was not given a name, nor listed because of being stillborn. The remaining nine children are William Grady Kilgore, born June 26, 1904; Lou Etta "Sis" Kilgore, born October 31, 1906; Dollie Edna Kilgore, born February 6, 1909; Ruby Cora Kilgore, born October 17, 1911; Johnie Thomas Kilgore, born December 12, 1913; Lois Jane Kilgore, born July 14, 1916; Ruth Mae Kilgore, born June 23, 1918; Cecil Warren Kilgore, born March 24, 1921; and Lorene Kilgore, born December 29, 1923. Papa Kilgore died on Christmas day, 1949, and is buried in Bennett Cemetery on Lamon Chapel Road in Walker County. Granny Kilgore died February 2, 1963 and was buried beside Papa Kilgore and her son, my Uncle Johnie, who died at the young age of 25 on the 29th of March 1939.
We have been well blessed to have such an ancestry. Regrettably, John Wesley and Sarah have only two children living as of this writing--my dad, Cecil Kilgore who is 90 years old and Aunt Lois who is 95. If I counted correctly, Grandpa and Granny Kilgore had 30 grandchildren. Those 30 make up the Kilgore Cousins. The family has grown through the years as the cousins have had children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren. The Kilgore family and extended family are scattered throughout the US reflecting the mobile society we live in today. We do not know each other as we did growing up in the 40's and 50's. I trust this blog and the "kilgorecousins" facebook group page will help us to reconnect. Love to hear your comments.
My grandpa's father was William Malcolm Kilgore, born April 10, 1852 and his mother was Cordelia Townley Kilgore, born May, 1853. Grandpa's full name was John Wesley Virgil Kilgore, better known as "Virge" to his friends. Grandpa Kilgore was born February 28, 1880. Granny Kilgore's parents were Thomas Louis Noles, born October 6, 1844 in Georgia and Martha Jane King, born December 31, 1852 in Walker County, Alabama. Granny had a very long name--Sarah Louiza Martha Tabitha Noles. To her friends she was "Sarah". Granny and papa were married March 30, 1902 at the Noles' Home in Walker County around Nauvoo, Alabama. Papa was 22 years old and Granny was 20 years old when they "tied the knot." Ten children were born to John and Sarah Kilgore. The first child was born premature and did not live. As was customary in that day, the child was not given a name, nor listed because of being stillborn. The remaining nine children are William Grady Kilgore, born June 26, 1904; Lou Etta "Sis" Kilgore, born October 31, 1906; Dollie Edna Kilgore, born February 6, 1909; Ruby Cora Kilgore, born October 17, 1911; Johnie Thomas Kilgore, born December 12, 1913; Lois Jane Kilgore, born July 14, 1916; Ruth Mae Kilgore, born June 23, 1918; Cecil Warren Kilgore, born March 24, 1921; and Lorene Kilgore, born December 29, 1923. Papa Kilgore died on Christmas day, 1949, and is buried in Bennett Cemetery on Lamon Chapel Road in Walker County. Granny Kilgore died February 2, 1963 and was buried beside Papa Kilgore and her son, my Uncle Johnie, who died at the young age of 25 on the 29th of March 1939.
We have been well blessed to have such an ancestry. Regrettably, John Wesley and Sarah have only two children living as of this writing--my dad, Cecil Kilgore who is 90 years old and Aunt Lois who is 95. If I counted correctly, Grandpa and Granny Kilgore had 30 grandchildren. Those 30 make up the Kilgore Cousins. The family has grown through the years as the cousins have had children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren. The Kilgore family and extended family are scattered throughout the US reflecting the mobile society we live in today. We do not know each other as we did growing up in the 40's and 50's. I trust this blog and the "kilgorecousins" facebook group page will help us to reconnect. Love to hear your comments.
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