Yesterday was the 33rd birthday of my grandsons, Adam Lee Bucklew and David Scott Bucklew whom I haven’t seen since they were almost three. It breaks my heart. They have since been adopted by their step-father so their names are now Adam Lee Christiansen. They probably live somewhere in Missouri or maybe some other Midwest state. I have tried to call them every way I knew how. No luck. Those young men have missed a lot of love from this part of their family, and many birthday presents, cards, etc. If any of you ever meet them, please tell them they have a grandmother here who loves them very much. Tell them I pray for them always, and wish they would come meet me and their cousins.

I found the following Chat that was supposed to be sent April 10, 2016, but from what I can tell, it never got sent. I am just sending it out to let you see it.

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There was no kindergarten back in 1950 when I started school. I was going to turn six the last of September so Mom started me to first grade at Normantown High School, when I was five. School started in September back then. The school bus came by about 8:20 a.m. and there was a bus house down by the Chestnut Lick bridge above Lockney, just in sight of where we lived. First day of school, Mom took me down to the bus house and talked to an older girl who lived on Chestnut Lick and asked her to help me on the bus and show me where my room was at school. Her name was Gracie May Yeager. She was in sixth grade and that worked out good because her room was next door to mine. She and her friend, Alice Jones of Lockney, would come in my room at recess and talk to me. Everything was new and I didn’t know anyone.

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Geraldine (in back) with JoAnn, Marina, Steven, Michael and Timothy in front

The first years of Geraldine’s marriage found her in Elyria, Ohio. She worked in the office of General Industries before the children began arriving. About a year and a half after being joined in marriage Geraldine found out that she was expecting their first child. On April 16, 1949 Geraldine welcomed her first child into the world, a girl they named JoAnn. I am sure that Geraldine wanted the guidance of her family while she began learning how to be a parent, so shortly after JoAnn was born the new family moved back to the hills of West Virginia. In short order Geraldine was expecting their second child, and on June 27, 1950 they welcomed Marina into the family. Soon the family of four found themselves moving back to Ohio where more work could be found in order to support the growing family.

Read more: Geraldine Through The 1950’s 


School started back this week in the county. Some of the children say their summer vacation was too short.

Our get well wishes go out to Alice Murphy on her recovery.

Sonya Richardson, Tina Postalwait, Wayne, and I attended the Cedar Creek Senior Sattelite. There was a nice attendance with a delicious meal and good fellowship.

The Senior Service fair at the Senior Center last Wednesday was nice. There was a big attendance.

It was good to see Robert and Ilene Tucker at town one day recently.

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I love the story of the starfish on the beach. I have read it many times in several different forms over the years, but I am always struck by its simple truth. One form of it goes like this: A man was walking on the beach one day when he saw a young boy coming towards him. Every few feet or so the boy would stop, bend down, and pick up a starfish. Then, with a huge effort he would toss it back into the ocean. The man asked the boy why he was doing this. The boy said, “These starfish will die soon out in the heat of the sun. I am tossing them back into the water so they can survive.” The man laughed and explained to the boy that there were millions of starfish stranded on beaches all over this world. How could he possibly hope to make any difference with his efforts? The boy just bent down, picked up another starfish, and tossed it into the sea. “It makes a difference to this one,” he said.

The simple truth is that every single thing we do in this life makes a difference either for good or for ill. The choice is ours which one. Our actions are far more powerful than we think. Each thing we do is like a pebble tossed into a pond. Only God knows how far the ripples will travel or who they will touch.

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Ralph and Geraldine at Cascade Park, Elyria in 1948

While Geraldine was off from school in the fall of 1946 helping her mother Ena prepare for her youngest sister to be born she attended a church revival at Crooked Fork Baptist Church. At that revival meeting she met Ralph Jackson Marks. While Ralph’s family lived on Crooked Fork at that time, he had not met Geraldine before attending the revival. Ralph began walking Geraldine home from the revival each night.

In the spring of 1947 Geraldine returned to school in order to continue pursuing her dreams of being an elementary school teacher. She attended the spring (1/28-5/31/1947), summer (6/3-7/11/1947), and fall 1947 (9/17-1/31/1948) semesters. In total she completed 50 credit hours toward degree completion. She continued to be courted by Ralph from afar during her time at school. Geraldine used this time to make a decision about finishing school or getting married to Ralph. By the end of the fall 1947 semester she made up her mind to marry Ralph and begin her life with him.

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Wayne and I attended the 50th anniversary celebration of Jim and Judy Meads on Saturday afternoon. It was very nice with a very nice attendance. We were also happy to see Ruth Chisler! She came in for the event, she was their neighbor for many years.

Happy Anniversary goes out to Becky and Bobby Wine, of Copen on Aug., 15.

Melissa Peggs, Wayne and I were to Weston on Thursday evening for John Villers visitation at Hardman/Paletti Funeral Home. Our sympathy goes out to the Villers family on the loss of their loved one. He will be missed by family and friends.

The annual National Night Out at the City Park in Glenville was really nice for the children and was also enjoyed by adults. There were hot dogs, drinks and good music. I know all of the support was greatly appreciated for such a good cause.

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Na-Nee!” The words jarred me from the book I was reading as I lay on my bad. I put the book down and looked up. My youngest son, Casey, was smiling down at me. He was 24 years old, but his severe Autism had left him with the mind of a very small child. His words are limited so every time he said something it was a joy to hear. He was pointing to the picture on my wall of my Italian Grandma’s 90th birthday party. We had always called her “Nanny” since I was a small child myself. I had taken Casey, and my other children, to see her as often as I could when they were young, both at her home and later at the nursing home before she passed away.

There was something more, however, than just him remembering her and pointing at her picture. There were times when I could see him staring over my shoulder and smiling. When I would turn around nothing would be there, but he would still laugh and say “Na-Nee!” After a while I realized that maybe my old Italian Nana was keeping a special eye on my special son from Heaven. It was comforting to think that she and God’s other angels were watching over my two boys. I am sure they were also watching over me and my daughter as well. We just lacked the “special” sight needed to see them.

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The Stockings Were hung by the Chimney with Care

I was born after the Great Depression but I remember hearing about it. I was reading Alyce Faye Bragg’s column in the Charleston Gazette, about life during and after WW 11 and it inspired me to write my memories. Mom and Dad were stationed down in Tennessee when he got called over seas to the war, and she didn’t have enough money to take a bus back home to WV. She got a job as a maid in a bed and breakfast place. It paid 50 cents a day and she got room and board free. She told me it took her two months to save up enough money to come home and she was so homesick. It was war time and no one trusted the banks. They hid money and her relatives would not let go of one red cent to send her. The people she worked for were nice and they treated her real good. As a matter of fact, she named me after their daughter, Jeanette, because she liked that name. Their last name was Goodall. Sounds French, and Mom continued to correspond with them by letter writing, after she got back to WV.

Read more: Depression Years Christmas

I was walking my beagle, Snoopy, the other evening while the last light of the setting sun colored the clouds purple and pink. I looked up to the sky and smiled. After a minute Snoopy started pulling at her leash. She was more than ready to head inside for a bowl of dog food and a bacon treat. I wasn’t quite ready to go in yet, however, so I knelt down and patted her head. I was waiting for my friends the Little Blinkers to appear.

It wasn’t long, either, before I saw them switching their lights on and off. They were fireflies, of course, also known as lightning bugs. Over all the years that I have lived here they have never failed to appear at this time during the summer to do their mating dance of light and love. They have never failed to amaze me. They have never failed to make the world a little brighter. It has always been such a joy, too, knowing that God created such wonderful little creatures that can shine their own light and make the dark meadows look like the starry skies above. They make me want to share my own light as well, even if it isn’t that bright and even if it does tend to blink now and then.

Robert Fulgham wrote, “I know some people who give off a lot of light. Because they have absorbed a lot of light themselves. They shine.” I don’t know how much light I’ve absorbed over the years, but I do know that I won’t keep it hidden under a basket. I will shine it. I will share it. I will use it to bring as much goodness, love, joy, and wisdom into this world as I possibly can.

Read more: Little Blinkers


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