Happy Birthday to Daddy (Robert Floyd Cox)

Wonder how old Daddy was here? Looked pretty snappy in that scarf. Then in 1960 in his work clothes.

Daddy and Mommy at Thelma and Tommy’s wedding.

Can you believe Daddy would have been 91 years old today. He was born June 23, 1918 and died November 12, 1974. Gee that means he was only 56 years old when he died. That seems so young to me now that I am older.

Wonder what he would have been like and what would he have thought about today’s “goings on”. Although Daddy had his foibles, there could never be a more generous man. I remember many occasions when he would take in another kid (usually a friend of one of his own kids), and let them stay as long as they needed. He gave clothes and food to many strangers. Lord knows, we were not the wealthy types – few were poorer, but it seems like we always had more than enough of everything we needed, so he was always willing to help somebody else. I think that is why most of us are always a bit too willing to help each other even when we probably shouldn’t.

I vaguely remember living in Kentucky in a relatively nice size house with bedrooms and locking doors, etc. That was in Paintsville, Kentucky. I do remember Larry being born there. Shirley and I were in a room next to where Mommy was giving birth, assisted by the midwife. The door was locked, and we tried to peek through the keyhole, but couldn’t see a darn thing. I think Daddy worked in a coal mine there. I wish I knew more about that time frame. I do recall taking naps in what I think was a large room with an A frame ceiling.

I have some vague memories of our move from Kentucky to Fairborn, Ohio. I seem to remember us older kids were in the back of a covered truck. We stopped at some point and Daddy bought us some of those candy ice cream cones with the colored marshmallow tops. I think I was about six years old. I think we first moved into the middle cabin/house that Mr. Holton rented out.

Then at some point, we moved to the 2nd cabin which was just a bit larger. That is where Gary was born. I can still remember him in the basinett with Josephine Cole there. We were told Gary was a “blue baby”.

Then after a while we moved into the largest Holton property. WOW – we had a large living/bedroom, a kitchen and a very small back bedroom. I can still picture that house. We had two full size beds in the living room along with a couch and a stove. Maybe there were other pieces of furniture that I can’t remember. By this time I must have been about 10 years old. I remember holding Vickie as an infant on my chest as I laid on the couch. Then I remember that tiny back bedroom being wall to wall beds at night. Roll-away beds were a must.

Bobby, Vickie, and Martha were born in that house.

I remember that we usually had a boarder (an extra person who was supposed to pay for his keep) plus all those kids.

Anyway, Daddy worked in construction or some kind of outdoor work. Mommy always packed lunches for Daddy and what ever boarder we had. I do remember Mommy’s brother, Uncle Woodie, as one of our boarders.

That larger Holton house is the one in which we lived when Larry, Carolyn Brewer, and I were walking on a path near the rail road track to or from the Fairborn park. (Everybody from Wrightview Heights walked that path. We were grabbed by some man, but got a way. One day that same man drove up in front of the house while I was out on the front step polishing some white shoes. I nearly broke my neck getting in the house through that screen door. When we told Daddy about the guy grabbing us, Daddy took out after that car, but the guy was gone and we never saw it or him again. Daddy was so upset that we had not told him about that guy earlier. He was ready to fight for us. Of course, I don’t appreciate fighting, but I knew he would have fought for us.

He loved his kids no matter what. And yes he believe in disciplining and whipping those who crossed him or did wrong.

My only recollection of getting a swat was when I found a quarter and Daddy asked me if I took it. That hurt my feelings and I started to cry. I cried easily in those days. So Daddy said, “I’ll give you something to cry about and he whacked me on the but with his hand.” Sure enough I had something to cry about – not a hurt rear end, but real hurt feelings. That was my only memory of physical discipline. However, the discipline came with a look or a word. You just knew kids did not sass or talk back. I think that bit of fear kept me from getting into trouble as a teenager. I do appreciate the way I was raised, even though few people today believe in disciplining kids at all – thus kids are sassing parents and telling them what they can do, taking drugs, never happy and all that. I was poor and disciplined with fear and so thankful for it. Until the day our parents died, I always felt a deep sense of respect for them and could never imagine talking back or speak harshly to them even though sometimes I’m sure I wanted to – even as an adult, I would not.

Sometimes when I go to the casino, I think to myself how much he would have enjoyed them. He probably would have enjoyed those free drinks a little too much. I know he would have liked the craps tables. He used to roll the dice at home.

He used to enjoy those cigarettes with his coffee. It is funny now, but I used to get so perturbed when Daddy would smoke and talk as he stood right beside the chair where I was curling Mommy’s hair. It always burned my eyes and sometimes I would have to go outside to clear them. In those days, no one thought of telling a parent anything like that. Smoking was not a NO-NO and I would not want to hurt his feelings.

I remember waking up to Daddy whistling and/or singing to the radio tunes. He loved Patsy Cline and that whole era of country singers. Often he would break out in a tap dance.

I remember so much more, but I must get packed for the trip to Ohio for Marnee’s wedding, so I had better save the rest for later.

So Happy Birthday DADDY!

Your Oldest daughter, Myrtle

Happy Birthday to Martha, the baby of the Family!

Happy Birthday to Martha,

the baby of the Family!

May 18, 1954, a blond curly headed baby was the last child born to Robert and Goldie Cox. And now, she is 54 years old. Can anybody believe that!!!

Thelma is holding Martha in 1958 at the house that burned. Wonder where Carl and Shirley were.

Here is Daddy holding his two little girls on Tommy and Thelma’s wedding day. Weren’t they cute. I loved those little dresses. I did not make them.

Here is Martha with Vickie in their dresses that I made in 1960. I remember the white dresses with light blue flowers. Weren’t they cute? Does that face look a bit like Madelyn Marie Bittner, Richard’s daughter. I think it does.

Here is Martha in 1964 with a kitten. That was a red dress and a white organdy pinnafore I made in 1964. Now I am not sure if this is the same kitty cat that Martha broke its neck by letting the screen door shut on it. But I think that was the same one.

In 1968 just before I went to Vietnam, Martha and Lillian look a little despondent. Martha and Vickie came to spend the school year with me in Pottstown, Pennsylvania. I remember getting a PFC James to stay with the girls to keep them out of trouble while I worked the evening shift. Umm – wonder how much trouble he kept them out of. How smart was that – getting a cute young man to monitor two cute teenagers. I think I was a bit too trusting or naieve. But I enjoyed that time. I hope I can find the picture of Martha in the jumper she had for school. They told her or Vickie one or the other that their skirt was too short. It was already to their knees – I think.

I am not sure, but I think Vickie had already been sent home back to Ohio. Not sure, but think Martha stayed longer than Vickie. I remember another friend – Charlotte Levengood – wonder what happened to her.

Martha’s Senior Picture

In 1981, Martha looks adoringly at her first born, Richard Edward Bittner.

Here is Martha in 1995 with her family, Richard and Ricky and Marnee.

Gee – I have so much more to add, but I am getting sleepy and will have to do more later.

But HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO OUR BABY OF THE

FAMILY TODAY, MAY 18, 2009.

Easter Memories Past and Present with Pictures

Gary, Carl Williams, Bobby, Martha, Vickie – Easter 1960 (I used to love making clothes for the girls. Here they are in blue coats I made in 1960 – Linkhart house.)

Vickie, Myrtle, Martha – 1965, in their Easter clothes made by Myrtle.

: Martha, Jeff, Myrtle, Vickie – 1966

(Here is that white dress I originally made for me and passed to Vickie when she got to wear hose instead of anklets. I don’t remember that issue, but I remember the dress and there is little Jeff – so cute in his little plaid jacket and knee socks. I think this was at the Ferguson house.)

Hope everyone really did have a memorable Easter 2009. Yes, the memories are good. I remember as a young girl always helping Mommy make Easter baskets for the kids. We built them from scratch. We would, of course, color eggs with the kids. Every kid had their own egg or eggs they had colored with their own name on it. Then Mommy would buy a few bags of jelly beans, yellow chicks, chocolate eggs, and some candy kisses, and usually a little bigger chocolate bunny for each basket. Then after the kids went to bed we would put the eggs with the names into the baskets and add the goodies. After all the baskets were put together we would hide them someplace in the house.

Then, on Easter morning the kids went looking for their basket. Then most of us kids got all dressed up and went to church. There was always an Easter Egg hunt at church. I remember most of these were related to the Fairborn Enterprise Baptist Church. Someplace I do have pictures of Martha and Vickie and Mrs. Jean Bates, a Sunday School teacher and family friend, out in the field looking for eggs. I must find those pictures and add them later.

Then after the whole Church thing, we would go back home for one of those big Sunday dinners, pretty much as Carla Jo describes. We usually had another egg hunt. Daddy found great pleasure in hiding those eggs so those kids would have to work to find them. That was a lot of fun.

This year, 2009, I did a couple of Easter activities just because my Mother-in-law is with us. Usually the Italians make special things at Easter. Pat and I took Mrs. Sorge over to John and Nancy’s where there were about 20 people gathered to watch Johnny, Donny and Cheryl make the Easter Ham Pies. They made 10 of them so every family took one home. We talked and ate. It was fun – but oh what a heart attack waiting to happen – eggs, cheese, and more cheese in those pies.

Then I helped Mrs. Sorge make what they call Easter Spinach pies. Basically, it is a delicious spinach mixture of cured olives, garlic and spinach in a pie dough piece folded over. That really is good and not too bad for the heart. Then we made these orange ricotta cheese pies which are more of a dessert. Again, very good but oh so bad for the heart.

Then on Easter, we went to Pat’s cousin Dickie, the judge’s house for Easter Brunch which is more eggs, sausage, etc. Then later in the day, we went to Barbara Fratto’s for Easter dinner which was more of the same with some added on ham, shells, meatballs, salads, etc. I would venture to guess this would not be a good week to check cholesterol levels.

Well, I have so many more old memories to write too, but I must get going. Easter is a little sad for me because I would love to be home when Kim and Martha and Shirley and whoever else gets together to color the eggs.

Jayden, Daphne, Madelyn Easter 2009

Abbie Easter 2009

Uncle Walter

Vickie is correct in her story. I remember the perfect bow hanging from the waist, loose but perfect.

I believed that if I yelled really loud he would hear me I just new he could, but no he could not. We would make signs with motion for him to eat, or close our eyes to tell him we were going to bed. We would walk down that lane with the most beautiful trees on both sides making a tunnel when it was full of leaves. He would find Preying Mantis’s and Walking Sticks. Dad could really communicate with him, sign.

Bobby and Vickie

Bobby and I were close in age and it seemed like we fought all the time over anything. My first memory was Bobby being at fault in braking the leg of my infamous ballerina doll. He just wanted to upset me and decided to try and take her away from me…I wasn’t having that and thus her broken leg. ( I bandaged her leg and as some of you know, I have her still today and I will get her picture on this site soon.)

Going through the teen years is never easy, but Bobby made fun of my blemishes, my short clothes, and anything else he could think of to make me cry. We would fight and chase each other around the stove and around the house. I can’t believe we didn’t kill one another, but we loved each and figured that out as we got older. One of the funniest things was when he brought Joy home for the first time. Joy was pretty, tall, and had legs that went on forever. Her skirt was so short! Bobby never made fun of my clothes again.

Around 1980, I took a business trip to New York. Bobby was working in NY at the time and we made plans to meet at some O’something club. I had 3 friends who joined me. On the way through Times Sq, we we rerouted because there was a bomb scare. We walked like we had no cares and arrived at the club. Bobby was there w/some of his guys and was so glad to see me. We danced (I’m not a dancer, but Bobby always led you like you felt you looked good on the floor. His comment to me was, “god it’s good to see someone (girl) he wasn’t afraid of touching”.) Aids had just become epidemic and he was really nervous. My co-workers left early and Bobby said he’d get me back to the hotel safely. When the night was over, Bobby and I got in a cab and even though his hotel was on the way to mine, he rode w/me to my hotel to make sure I was safe.

We made plans to take the train to Philadelphia and visit Myrtle and Pat. I had my first experience of being accousted when getting out of a cab and having someone try to grab our bags, just so they could get a tip…that didn’t work, but it was interesting to see Bobby take control. All I could think is that we could be shot!

It was such a welcome visit. Although Myrtle and Pat aren’t drinkers, they always have tons of liquor left over from parties. We got our hands on a “drink recipe book” and started to make as many of the concoctions as possible. We made something that was pink and Myrtle put it to her lips, but that was that. It was a great visit and I definately knew Bobby cared for me. “All brothers and sisters fight…it really doesn’t mean a thing”.

Some of my Mom Memories

I made homemade vegetable soup yesterday and that made me think of Mom. The summer/fall days spent cutting corn off the cob, chopping cabbage, shredding carrots, and the lists goes on. Mom also cooked ground beef and included in the last soup fixings she made. The time devoted to this chore was enormous, but the result can never be duplicated, yet my soup made me think of Mom.

Another “chop job” Mom and I did together was sauerkraut. Lord, my first memory was taking evaporated milk cans, heating one end over a gas burner and prying off the lid. This became the kraut chopper. It took so much time and energy to chop enough cabbage to fill a dozen jars, but it was worth it. Pushing cabbage into (preferaby wide mouth jars), adding 1 T salt, filling w/boiling water, and inserting a case knife, wriggling it around to make the water get to the bottom, wiping jar clean and sealing. Now my biggest fan is my brother-in-law, Pat Sorge. It’s easier to make now, but still takes time, but I always try to keep kraut supplied for Pat.

I make some pretty good fried chicken in the skillet, oven, or on the grill, but I have never been able to make it like Mom. (Marnee named my chicken “killer chicken”, what a compliment!) One thing Mom always wanted me to make for her was fried chicken livers. (Now that was the ultimate compliment!)

Speaking of chicken…when I bought my little farm in 1990, I was gifted by a local farmer, 245 chicks and 5 turkeys. Oh my goodness, that’s a lot of birds! Initially they were free range birds. I’d come hom from work and this brood came running down from the barnyard because they “knew” it was feeding time. (I wish I had a movie camera but I don’t think I’ll ever that sight!) The point of this story is that there were lots of chickens/roosters that had to go by that fall. Mom was the teacher of killing chickens. After we caught the chickens, she’d take the bird by the neck, swing it around, put the head under her foot, and pull the head off. All of us got into the act and I must say it was so funny to watch those birds flop around with no heads. We killed, boiled, plucked, and froze about 100 that day. Isn’t it amazing the memories that are burned into your mind!

That’s just a few of my wonderful memories of my Mom!