Eleven years ago today, one of the three most beautiful girls in the world was born. It was on this day my #1 granddaughter, Dylan Kay, came into this world to be greeted by Daddy Dave, and Mommy Anna.
What a beautiful and smart girl she is.
Grandpa Ivy is sending out tons of love and wishes for a great year as she celebrates on this her special day.
Cathie and I were at Dr. Betty Duke’s office in Dugger around 4 p.m. The weather forecasters had put out a winter storm warning with significant snow.
Dr. Betty looked at Cathie, laughing, “Honey, you are in labor.”
That said with the storm threat we drove straight to Mary Sherman Hospital in Sullivan, Indiana. It would not be for over seven hours around 11:30 p.m. when Kevin Duane Ivy would make his debut on November 29, 1989.
Life has never been the same. LOL
In tribute I have put together a few collages to celebrate Kev’s 28th birthday. I am sure he will find some of the images cringe worthy. But, hey, that’s what Dads get to do.
Dad and Kev – Oh yeah, with Mom too
Kev with the Grandparents and older Brother Dave and Cuz
Kev and the love of his life – Hailey
Now a few of Kevin through the years:
You may be a thousand miles away most years, but you are always in my heart and on my mind. Love you, Son.
My dear Desert friend of over a decade, Bonnie, shares her birthday with youngest son, Kev, today. Meeting online in Yahoo group, the online friendship led to real life acquaintance. Bonnie lives in the Desert oasis of Laughlin, Nevada. Bonnie had a very rough weekend in and out of the emergency room.
Hoping all my friends and family shout out to wish her a happy birthday. Also, please, place her on your prayer lists.
It was 82 years ago tomorrow in the northeastern Mississippi city of Ponotoc when Alfred Herman and Ozell Elizabeth McKnight Ivy welcomed a baby boy into the world – Charles Lynn Ivy. The parents were my grandfather and grandmother. The baby boy is my Dad.
It was 100 years ago today that my Grandmother, Mary Olive Bush Powell, was born.
Grandma continues to live on her own, in her own apartment. No one lives with her. Her daughters, Mom (Sharon Hollifield) and my Aunt Nancy Shipley, check in on her, shop and keep her fed. Granddaughter Michelle Zimmerman keeps her presentable. Bill assists as needed. Grandchildren pitch in from time to time.
Although her eye sight is failing, her hearing nearly go, Grandma, like the Energizer Bunny, keeps going and going!
Three once called her Mother. Her only son, Allen Powell, left too soon a few years ago, leaving two.
Dozens call her Grandma. Dozens more call her Aunt Olive. Hundreds know her as Sister Powell.
Yesterday family came together to celebrate her life.
When Mary Olive Bush Powell made her debut in the world on September 25, 1917, the telephone was in very few homes.
There was no rotary dial. People would pick up the receiver and tell the local operator with whom they wished to speak. The local operator was the source of gossip and news, the Twitter of the time.
Men would gather to discuss everything at the local barbershop. This was the hub of social networking at the time or that age’s Facebook.
Outhouses were in use for most in the Cornfield. Potbelly stoves, burning coal, provided warmth. Hand-held fans provided relief from the heat.
Mary Olive’s father, Jim Bush, was the local barber in Helmsburg, nestled in the beauty of the hills of Brown County, Indiana. Jim aka Great-Grandpa Bush was the barber there for over 60 years.
Grandpa Bush was also one of a few renown artists capturing the beauty of Brown County on canvas.
Mary Olive lost her mother shortly after the birth of her younger brother, Jimmy, who is now deceased. Her older sister, Dorothy, who passed on too soon, helped Grandpa raise Mary Olive and Jimmy.
I recall listening in awe Grandma talking about having met and hinting that she had gone on a date or at least took a ride with the infamous gangster, John Dillinger, who hailed from a nearby county. But it was the brash, handsome oldest son of Postmaster Ancil Powell, who caught her eye and heart.
She and Luther Crockett Powell wed. The couple soon had a daughter, Sharon Lynn (Mom). A few years later came along Allen (now deceased) and few more years came Nancy.
Life change dramatically one night when the couple with Mom in tow attended a revival at Greasy Creek Church. The couple met Jesus. Grandma, Mary Olive, has never wavered or turned from her commitment that night.
For over half a century, Grandma was a preacher’s wife. Pastorates took her and her family throughout Indiana to West Virginia, Ohio and Illinois, including to two stints at the Church of God right here in Sullivan.
Many say it is the famous Bush stubborness that has allowed her to reach the young age of 100. That stubborness and determination can plainly be seen looking back at when she received her driver’s liceense in her 60s.
Shortly after receiving her license, she and Grandpa went their separate ways. Grandma never remarried.
Grandma continued to drive until finally being convinced to give up her car a little over a decade ago. Though her big day is not until tomorrow, the family is celebrating her life today at the community room in her apartment building.
Grandma continues to live alone, in her own apartment. Daughters Sharon and Nancy, her granddaughters – especially Michelle – and Bill help attend to her needs each day.
Four score years ago, Sharon Lynn Powell Ivy Hollifield was born in Indianapolis, Indiana. She lived her formative years in the nestled hills around Nashville in Brown County, Indiana.
Her father, Luther, was a carpenter with a penchant for politics. Her mother, Mary Olive, was a housewife. Her paternal grandfather, Ancil, was postmaster while her paternal grandmother, Miriam, owned a local restaurant. Her maternal grandfather, Jim, was the barber in nearby Helmsburg and a renown artist of the beauty of the picturesque county.
For years a smile would come as I listened to either Grandpa or Mom tell the story of Grandpa taking her to the local tavern. Grandpa would plop Snookie, as he called her, down on a bar stool, then drink and politick away the hours. That is until one day, Snookie looked the bartender in the eye and said, “Give me a short beer.” That’s the last time Snookie made the rounds with Grandpa.
Though it has been over a half century now, I still laugh about an incident that happened when we were living in Anderson, Indiana. Mom and my Dad were always arguing it seemed.
At the time we lived in an old two-story house with the basement opening to the ground level and out to where the car was parked. Though the argument not over, Dad had already made his way to the basement to leave when Mom came flying down the stairs after him. She was determined to have the last laugh and went to kick him in the seat on his way out the door.
Her feet flew up in the air. Mom landed unceremoniously on her keister on the ground.
For years we have laughed “with her” about the mishap.
Those who know Mom know she does not exactly fit the feminist mold. If anything she is right the opposite. But an event happened in the mid 1960s that would make you think differently.
We were living in Columbus, Indiana at the time. Each summer we would attend youth camp at the church campgrounds in adjacent Brown County west of Fruitdale. One summer, the campers were playing baseball when the male counselors, including my Dad, scurried the campers off the field so they could play a game instead.
Mom, along with the other female counselors, marched up to the men. This was something uncommon back in those days. Mom confronted the men, including her husband, telling them that the camp was for the children and not the adults. Mom and the other female counselors then shepherded the campers back on the field to finish their game.
The men walked sheepishly away.
One Thanksgiving we had gone to visit Grandma and Grandpa Ivy in Granger, Indiana. Aunt Doris and Mom disappeared for awhile.
When they came back, Mom looked the spitting image of Miss Kitty from Gunsmoke. There was even the signature beauty mark of Amanda Blake in prominence. We could not get over how much Mom looked like the television star.