Brunette: Brunette Russell Franklin Cato

When I was growing up I don't recall Nannie doing a great deal of cooking, although I know that in years past she had. I have heard many stories from within the family about her cooking this or that, in fact my Mom and Aunt Trisha pass her Pecan Pie recipe back and forth over the phone every Thanksgiving and or when the craving calls. Nonetheless, by the time I knew her that was a chore that she had abandoned. I do however remember going out to eat each Saturday and Sunday throughout my childhood. One of those days of course was reserved to a lunch meal in Madisonville, to be followed by an afternoon of shopping at Baker and Hickman's Department store; afternoons my Mom and Sister enjoyed and I muddled through. The weekend lunches were like clockwork - she would arrive at our house just before noon drop in to chat for a minute before heading back out to the car. When we lunched in Dawson Springs we ate at the Hickory Pit, Dudes, the dining room at the Lodge of Pennyrile (State Park), The Place, or Corky's a hamburger dive that was later bought out by Dairy Queen. In all of these locales we would see familiar faces and Nannie knew everyone. She glided through these restaurants smiling and talking to almost everyone in these places, and so it was no surprise that my sister nor I have ever met a stranger.


On nights when I would sleep over at her house and we were alone she always expressed a large interest in my thoughts and my ideas about my future. She often talked about the old days with me and encouraged me to draw more, learn more, and talk more. She also inadvertently encouraged me to spend more time with Buddy, because she often went to bed really early. On those nights I would go out and sit in the family room with him and we would cook up pranks to pull on her, talk more about the old days, eat club crackers and drink Coca Cola out of a wine glass. One night Buddy and I even developed a little skit by using a couple of canes that they had lying around the house, along with his hats and a record (I believe) of Frank Sinatra singing: "I did it my way." A sight to behold I am sure - a sight that made her grin from ear to ear - laughing and clapping.

My sister and I were the only grandchildren on Mom's side of the family and we were spoiled a little because of that. But what is most important is that we were brought up with a great amount of love. There were so many people all around us that wanted to make sure that we had good lives. There is six years difference between Shannon's and my age and we really never competed against each other for anything and certainly not love. We grew up fast when I think about it and I doubt we thought much about how lucky we were then. I was in the 6th grade the year that she graduated and left home to go to Western Kentucky University. I know it was an exciting time for her but it was also a sad time for me…I think we were all a little sad. On her last day in town we went around to all the relatives houses so that she could say good byes, and our last stop was Nannie and Buddy's. Nannie cried from the time we got there until the time we left, and as we were walking to the car the two of them were still crying. A year later she was gone too.

Only gone in a different way - a way that I had not been accustomed to - she was really gone - not coming back gone. On an ordinary fall evening, Mom and Dad were moving about in the kitchen cooking dinner just like clockwork and the phone rang. Oddly, it wasn't Nannie making her routine call while Mom and Dad were cooking dinner - I don't even know who it was. I just remember Dad saying I'll take care of this you just go. I didn't know what was happening I just followed Mom, got into the car and headed across town. I guess Dad turned off all the things on the stove and hurried over himself - if he hadn't been there we might have just left it all turned on. The rest of the story is quite sad, but a peaceful sort of sadness, and with all due respect I will leave it at that. Nannie died on November 1, 1995, she was sixty eight years old.

My Uncle Bill a few years earlier had just completed an assignment in Jamaica and had accepted duties that would be carried out in Bratislava, Slovakia in the near future. The two of them were already in language classes that would help them abide in that culture for a few years. Mom's first phone call was to her sister and she was en route to Dawson Springs immediately.

Softly and tenderly she had slipped the bonds of this earth - just like that. Friends began to call, as they say, and the house was soon filled with women with casseroles, meat loafs and fried chicken. Family members were called and arrangements were made and then, as we have many times since, we gathered in the blue chapel at Beshear Funeral Home to grieve. It was somber, it was gut wrenching, it was scary and it shouldn't have been so bad at fifteen. Maybe I was ill prepared but the feeling that I felt on those days has been surpassed very few times. So few that I am reluctant to go into it here, at least not any farther than this.

I think that it might have been the first time in my life that I had seen so many adults crying. Grown men and women that were members of my family that had always seemed to have it together, but they were crying. People coming in and out saying kind things, sharing stories, feeling sad, all those things took place too. I remember my Mom, so stoic, so solid, she and Trisha greeted guest and shook hands while Buddy, Dad and my Uncle Bill created a separate wall of hand shaking and greeting themselves. I don't really know what they were all thinking, I had no way of knowing rather than asking and even that I put off for another day. Nannie joined my Grandfather Decola Franklin at Rosedale Cemetery.

Days turned into months, months blended into years, and before we knew it so many things happened to us all. A phrase that I like to borrow says it best: life happened to us. She would have been proud to see us gather for holidays for many years in her living room with Buddy at the helm, a man who would often mention her name and lend me many stories that have helped to fill these lines. A man who changed my life through his love, generosity, and confidence in me over the years. He would leave their home just as she had left it and for many years until his death she was ever present at the house at 600 Russell Street. Buddy passed away in 2002 and was buried next to his Grandfather on his mother's side, T. C. Cash, in Ausenbaugh Cemetery, just outside of Dawson Springs.

Bill and Trisha would go on to serve the Foreign Service in Bratislava, Slovakia. I was lucky enough to visit Bratislava with Mom in those years, among other places in Eastern Europe. Their careers, travels and life in general would be a breath of fresh air in ours and as I have said before, they helped to make the world a bit smaller for all of us. During the final years of Nannie's life Trisha completed her PhD, graciously mentioned in the introduction of her dissertation is the acknowledgement of a loving and supportive mother. My Aunt and Uncle still reside in Washington, D.C. and have both recently retired respectively; Bill from the State Department and Trisha from the Foreign Service Institute.

Just as much as she would have enjoyed being a Great-Grandmother, Nannie would have loved to see my Mom and Dad fill the rolls of Nana and Poppy. The year after her death my sister married Steven Parker in a ceremony at the First Baptist Church, a celebration that Nannie would have so enjoyed. Something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue - the day was a beautiful day and Nannie would have shined to see my sister look so beautiful.

Of course there have been so many things that have happened to me over the past fifteen years as well…but there is no great need to go into all that here. Life has happened to me in the best ways more than the worst. I suppose that above all with all things considered, the greatest gifts both sides of grandparents gave me were my parents. Parents that have loved me no matter what steps I have made, what jobs I have chosen to take, or what places I have decided to move. Lots of love. I suppose that is what brought this entire piece of wordage together…love. When my Grandfather Buddy passed away I was fortunate enough to inherit a few pieces of furniture that have made their way to Texas with me. Every day when I enter my home here in Austin, these things remind me of their steadfast presence in my life.

In going back through her life, producing a sort of meaty timeline, I have questioned myself many times as to what my purpose has been. I have often wondered if it was really okay for me to expose someone in this way when they really have no choice in telling me to keep going or to stop. All through this process I knew that this was something that I always wanted to do. You see, this process has had more to do with me than it did with her. Nannie, a title that she chose and wore well - a loving wife and a dear mother, did things for me and my sister that only we can describe. She was beautiful - inside and out and to borrow a phrase from my dear Aunt Ami, "she had a heart as big as all outdoors."

At Beshear Funeral Home and then on out to Rosedale Cemetery, on that dreary November day, we all said good bye to her. Knowing not what the future would hold for our family without her. Without her love, her laugh, her generosity and her grace. I am sure we all wondered deep within our thoughts about how the structure of our family would change, and it surely did. But she achieved something that every person that lives on this earth does not have the power to achieve - she kept going. Her smile is present at every Christmas dinner that our family has shared since then on the faces of her two daughters. Stories of her have been brought up time and time again, and I suppose that so long as I am able to speak and write those stories will continue.

She walked a line that was so fine - I think that she was the only one that could see it. Her strength outweighed her weaknesses and she tackled life with a distinct class and grace that I have yet to see perfected so well since. "Her heart was as big as all out doors," and there was nothing that she would not give or do to make the lives of those around her richer and better. And over the fifteen years that I had the honor of knowing her she captivated me and has held my attention long after her death.

In an old reel to reel film that belonged to my Uncle Gar and Aunt Ami, a film that I have watched over and over again. There is a portion backed with music to the melody of the song "Memories." In this particular film she is getting out of her car at the mines in one of her trench coats, hat and gloves to match. She starts toward Gar and Ami who had been babysitting my Mom there at the mines. Mom was probably around three years old and she too had on a long coat with a high button - a beautiful little girl dressed in late fifties fashion. When she realized that her mother was there the biggest smile came across her delicate little face and she ran and jumped into her arms. Nannie spun around with her little girl in her arms and the scene closes out with her holding her tight…clinging to her little girl and smiling. A smile that I can see to this day, a smile that could warm the coldest day and raise the lowest spirits. A smile that I knew all too well and knew not how to deal with its absence.

Fifteen years has passed since she went away - years that have seen our family well. Nannie would be proud to know that we are all doing fine. If it is possible I hope she has gotten glimpses of her two beautiful Great Grandchildren: Cole and Sloane Parker. These two would have been the light of her life, I know they have been the light of ours. She would have smiled over her daughters and their husbands as they have followed life's path so graciously and kindly just as she did. And if she can read these words and feel my feelings as they pour on to this screen I hope that she knows that did do this for her too…not all for me. I guess it is the selfish little boy inside me that needed to get all of this off my chest. I needed the world to know that I had this grandmother that was so great, because I lost her so early. So as I turn this page in my mind and soon I will get up from this seat and turn off this device, go over and curl up on her sofa and read someone else's narratives - I hope she knows that I am fine too now. And in so many ways I hold her responsible. She and a score of other people who loved me often more than I deserved over the years. Life is what it is and we all know that we can't live forever. The ones that are lucky, find out what matters to them far before those things or people are gone. We grow to learn that life is a journey of reaching a certain understanding and just as you think you are getting everything figured out an obstacle arises that may have never occurred to you.

I have grown to feel a deep responsibility to my family and to go even farther to its history. I have felt compelled for several years to write about such thoughts and especially about the great people that I have known. The people that changed my life. Nannie was one of those people, one of those dear, sweet, people that devoted part of her life to mine. That matters. Fifteen years of memories and fifteen years since and I am still talking about her. But what still amazes me, after all these years of inquisitive talking, is that I always find another person that she has influenced or touched - lives she changed just by living. So now it's done, the only way I knew how to do it, and with misty eyes I will post this blog of many sorts onto the world wide web. On to this web with many messages in one but one that I must add just in case she sees it: Thank you.

Many, many, years ago, in a little community called Menser, just outside of Dawson Springs, Kentucky, a little girl was born, and they named her Brunette. She was my grandmother.

Brunette: Turn the page.

As memories fade and then resurface I am reminded of the true beauty of the phases of our lives. The moments that separate time from ordinary into spectacular - the happiness and joy that is paired with tragedy and sadness. Sometimes it is more difficult than others to realize the true gift it is to live the lives we are given. I think Nannie new that and although she was fragile at times she had the strength to smile and rise again with the same grace and class that she had embodied before. Always.

In 1979 Nannie would marry John Edward Cato, who was known by friends and family as Buddy. Buddy had retired from the United States Postal Service in the early 1970s after serving in a long time position as Postal Inspector. A job that was based in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Upon retirement and a divorce he had returned to his hometown where his only family resided. After a brief stay at his Uncle and Aunt, Clyde and Beatrice "Bea" Woodruff's home, he settled into the Wingo Apartments on Hall Street next door Mr. and Mrs. (Christine and Harold) Wingo's florist and he later purchased a home on the corner of Hamby Avenue and Russell Streets. Buddy was the son of Joseph and Dessie Cash Cato, whom at the time of his return to Dawson Springs had both already passed away. Nannie and Buddy's courtship led to marriage and the two moved into Nannie's home on South Main Street. They would later sell this home in addition to Buddy's home and purchase a home together at 600 Russell Street. The home on Russell Street had been built and lived in By Edward and Dorothy Simons.

It would be during this time in the fall of 1981 that I was born, I would grow up to know Nannie and Buddy as my grandparents and they would live there at 600 Russell Street until both of their deaths. It was also during this short period that Nannie would suffer an injury while working at Ottenhiemers that would lead to back surgery, and her retirement. I would come to know her in a time when her life was slowing down, she had more time to visit with family, decorate and shop. In the early eighties she would also lose both of her parents.

First in 1981 her father, Ollie J. Russell, would die at the age of eighty one from lung cancer. The loss of her father would be one that would strike her to the very core. A man who had been known as Ollie J, Judge, Daddy, and Papaw, died in Caldwell County Hospital. He had been retired for many years from the VA at Outwood. He was an avid gardener, a faithful Christian, and beloved husband. Nannie would recall her days of milking the cows with her Dad, among fond stories of sitting next to him at the family table at the "old home place" while growing up. Papaw Russell had long been revered as an honest and good man. A man that was often called upon to say prayers over the sick, a man who had worked hard, good to his family and to his neighbors. I have often been told that he had the ability to witch water, a gift in those days that helped determine a lucrative spot to dig wells. He was certainly a jack of all trades. He had been married to Myrtle Johnston Russell since 1919, adding up to sixty two years. Papaw Russell was the father of eight children, and had lived to experience the loss of one of his sons William, who died in a car accident just outside of Saint Louis, Missouri in 1965. He was a grandfather of eleven grandchildren who loved him and enjoyed spending time at his house "up on the hill." The family gathered at Beshear Funeral Home where "When the Roll is Called Up Yonder" was sang and he was buried among many family members in the Isley Cemetery.

Later in 1983, Nannie's mother Mrtyle Russell died at the age of eighty five. Mamaw who had been ill for several years was spoke of as a constant source of kindness. A resourceful and hardworking mother, who loved nothing more than to have her family gathered around her for Sunday dinners, holidays and special occasions. Mamaw had pinned yellow ribbons to her porch in the days of the second World War and prayed that her two boys would return to her safely. She had been the person that wanted the family to move into town. She had boiled clothes and linens in an iron kettle over a fire and scrubbed them over a wash board. There is no possible way to imagine the amount of goods that she preserved and canned for the winter months over the years, the meals that she cooked, the clothes and quilts that she made. The thing that were all in a days' work for her, she would live to see become easier tasks, task that her own daughters would later find ways to make quicker or obsolete.. But never would they try to improve the Sunday dinners that she hosted - fish fries, barbeques, the fried chicken, the roasts, the holiday turkeys and hams, and never in this family could we forget the desserts. We all know that the Russell's love desserts! After all this… she too would pass the baton and leave a large family to mourn her loss. She joined her husband at Isley Cemetery, surrounding the church that they had been members of for so many years.

I know that the burden of losing both of her parents so close to the loss of my grandfather Decola was a huge weight on her heart. After the loss of her parents she would work together with her cousin John Lush Russell and her own brothers and sisters to create the Russell Reunion. An event that would be held annually to gather the descendants of William and Lenora Russell, the original group that had once lived, romped and played on the lane near the "old home place." This reunion would be an important undertaking in her life and over the years she would reunite cousins and family members that would gather long after her death, as this reunion still takes place -although the crowd has grown sparse.

Also, during this time of her life Trisha and Bill would move to Washington, D.C., where Bill would work for the state department. A job that would lead to their first assignment in Brasilia, Brazil. A mixture of worry and concern would be paired with a great deal of pride surrounding this move and Nannie would look forward to their return but boast of their good measure while they were away.

It is around this time that my own memory kicks in. I remember quite well Christmas Day Dinners in the living room at Nannie and Buddy's house. To me her house was a show place and the living room was a room that we did not inhabit much, except on holidays and special occasions. A stately brick home nestled on a street with no outlet, made for less traffic and a peaceful existence. The basement was the home of their two Oldsmobile's, usually a ninety eight olds and a delta eighty eight, the same year but different colors. It was in those days that my sister and I would receive our three dollar a week allowance from Nannie - money that I often saved or hoarded - a trait I wished I had today. Nannie's room had a sitting room as well, equipped with a sofa, a rocking chair and an arm chair and of course her beautiful twin bed set that is now in my Mom and Dad's home. The living and family rooms were parallel to one another and this is where Mom and Trisha would prepare the Christmas dinners to go along with Buddy's turkey. In the family room the men would gather in the sitting area discussing what was happening in the world at the time or the current sports season - Buddy keeping the tempo. While my sister and I would be making snow angels on the plush and almost white carpet. It was there in the living room surrounding a fully decorated and lit tree that my sister and I would open present after present at that time of year. Seated near a regal mantle piece over a fire place that was never lit we enjoyed many happy times. The furniture and things in that room seemed to sit as if they were made to be there and it was this room that I felt was one of beautiful rooms of my life. And year after year my sister and I would look forward to our picture being taken with Nannie before the fireplace.

To be continued...
 
{This is part of a series of blogs about my grandmother, Brunette Russell Franklin Cato, titled: Brunette.}

Brunette: Sixties blend with Seventies

As if to make a loop around someone's life it is very difficult to sweep in and out of the important moments and not leave anything out. Obviously it would be absurd to think an entire decade could be squeezed into one page. However, I must remind myself that I was not there so my memory is there only by direction and stories retold time and time again. I have to continue to keep myself on track but be mindful of the fact that I am only a visitor to these moments in time and that I really was never a part of them.


The late sixties would see an end of the coal mining business, the mines and equipment would be sold and retirement from this phase of the family's life would take place. Somewhere during this time period with both her children in school Nannie would join the working force again at Ottenhiemers, a sewing factory that had been in operation in Dawson Springs since the late 1940s, she worked in the shipping department. A phase in time that pant suits would come onto the scene Nannie would blend in nicely. Also during this period Nannie and Decola would embark on business ventures other than the mining business such as a men's clothing store called Dad's Duds. Dad's Duds would have a store located in Madisonville and in Hopkinsville - these venues would expand their group of friends as well as their time schedule. Earlier in this period Decola had opened a franchise called Gambles, and housed it in downtown Dawson Springs. Gambles was located on South Main Street. This was a building that during my childhood was the location of Rex Parker Insurance Company. My Uncle Joe Russell was hired to manage Gambles and he later took over the business until it closed in the latter part of the seventies.

Decola would also dabble in real estate during this period, buying, selling and renting properties in and around Dawson Springs. State Representative Fred Beshear, a former Dawson Springs resident and businessman had been instrumental in having two water sources dammed to create a lake that would later be named Lake Beshear in his honor. Lake Beshear was to be a huge benefit to the city of Dawson Springs in the eyes of the legislature and this proved to be true over the years. The benefits would be that the lake would create a permanent water source for the city, add to the fish and wildlife habitat of the region, create recreation such as boating, fishing, swimming and skiing, as well as real estate development. It did just that.

The early seventies would prove to be a very busy period of time. The house on Hospital Road would be sold to Joe and Auntie, Nannie, Decola and Mom would then move to a home on Kentucky Avenue that had been built by Decola's sister Wetona in the late fifties to early sixties. A modern and sprawling home, two levels, and equipped with a pool. Nannie still felt tender toward her home on Hospital Road but really never had to let it go since her brother and sister-in-law had purchased it. In later years the family has spent many happy occasions in the home on Hospital Road as Joe and Auntie's doors have always been open to us. Nonetheless, Mom would leave home to attend school and Nannie and Decola would then move to Dawson Village Apartments, which had been newly built, and later to another home on South Main Street.

In 1973 my Mom would graduate high school and attend Murray State University. In 1974 she would marry my Dad, Edward Eugene Storms II, the son of local business owners Edward E. and Billie Carter Storms. Gene and Billie as many referred to them, were known to me as Granny and Papaw. They owned and operated Storms Antiques in Dawson Springs for over twenty years after my grandfather's retirement from the United States Army. A June wedding would unite the two families for life - a union that exist today after thirty six years. Their wedding would be around the same time of the city's centennial celebration.

Later that year Decola's mother would succumb to cancer, she was seventy six. Orvy who had acted as the matriarch for the Franklin family for many years would pass the baton - a hard blow to the family. Orvy, a classy and beautiful lady would fade away with dignity leaving her family to mourn the loss of a faithful mother and grandmother. She would join her husband and infant child in Old Petersburg Cemetery. A woman who had left home in the late teens to marry her sweet heart Chesley, would make their house a home as they started their family. My Aunt Trisha often shares affectionate stories about Orvy with me after spending tons of time with her while she was growing up. One particular story she has shared with me involved her and a co-worker at Outwood State Hospital of which she was an administrator during the seventies years. As the story goes she and this co-worker were driving through Dawson Springs on their way to lunch when Orvy was making her way down the street toward the Commerical Bank. Orvy who had always been known for being impeccably dressed was now in her seventies. Gracefully adorning a fur and walking with a cane Trisha's co-worker asked: " I wonder who that beautiful elderly lady is?" My Aunt's response was: "That's my grandmother." And so her memory exists this way still.

As we all know there are endings and beginnings and these transitions come with great sadness as well as great joy. The loss of Orva Teague Franklin would be followed by the birth of Shannon Danielle Storms. The decision to be called Nannie would be made and practiced in the months following November 5, 1975, when my sister was born. The Franklin's first grandchild would charm them like no other gift and they would then become Nannie and Grandad. In pictures and in memories retold it is easy to see that Nannie and Grandad were not the only people that this little one wrapped around her tiny fingers. The family grew and with that growth came more love and this bouncing baby girl, as light as a feather and tiny as a minute would captivate this family in a way that it hadn't seen since the late forties and mid fifties when Trisha and my Mom were born. All smiles now.

Unfortunately, there were bad times too as there always are. My Grandfather drowned in mid June accessing his lake property on the No Outlet side of Lake Beshear in 1978. The front page of the Dawson Springs Progress published the story about the longtime local business man who had drowned in an accident at the lake. In this obituary and among all the successes of his life, his collegiate background, his service to his country, the many businesses that he had owned and operated, and his beloved daughters, was the name Brunette. A woman who had stood beside him for thirty two years, a widow of fifty two. She would learn to mourn a loss that she had not even begin to fathom. Decola Franklin would become to me a man that I never knew but always did. A face that I had seen a million times but never really saw. An important name in my grandmother's stories while we occupied her walnut twin bed set when spending nights at her house. The loss of my grandfather would be a huge loss to the family. My mother was twenty three, a young wife and young mother - Trisha, my aunt, also young and married and now living in Atlanta, was only thirty years old. As the family gathered and friends drew near to mourn the loss of a local fixture and good man, it is hard to know what thoughts were going through Nannie's mind. I am sure her thoughts led her back to forty six when it was just the two of them, back to the apartment on Ramsey Street and the home on South Main, and certainly back to Hospital Road. In her mind I doubt she ever stopped traveling those roads that they had traveled together - after all thirty two years is a long time.

On Father's Day, 1978, Decola Wayne Franklin was buried at Rosedale Cemetery. Just down the row from his Grandparent's T.R. and Salley Rachael Franklin, his Aunt and Uncle Johnnie and Tilathy and other members of the Franklin family; he was fifty seven.

Brunette: The Sixties I

In the late 1950s my Mom would start elementary school - beginning with kindergarten taught and organized by Mrs. Rita Grace Ridley and housed at the local school. Trisha would be in Junior High and before they knew it the 1960s were upon them. It would be in the sixties that Trisha would graduate high school in 1965 and go to Western Kentucky University to attend college. Mom would host slumber parties and Nannie and Decola would still enjoy the life between business and Frankfort. In 1967 Louis B. Nunn would be elected Governor of the Commonwealth, Decola had been a large supporter of Nunn so during this period he became the go to man for patronage jobs in the region including and surrounding Dawson Springs. This made the trips to Frankfort more frequent and important even still.

Unfortunately, it was also in 1967 that Chesley, Decola's father would suffer a fatal heart attack. It was on a Sunday afternoon at Aunt Agnes and Uncle Chester's farm, where the family had enjoyed a Sunday afternoon dinner and had retired to the lawn when Chesley had a heart attack; he was seventy years old. Chesley had lived a very successful life, but a success that did not come without a great deal of hard work. The business that he had worked to create had thrived during the last few decades and most if not all of the people who knew him respected him as a good businessman and a even better man. Aunt Agnes, the youngest sister of Orvy, Chesley's widow, had worked as Chesley's secretary at the mines for many years. She wrote a poem about the day he died, among many poems that she authored. Chesley's death came as a shock to the family, as he and Orvy were in the process of having a new home built a few blocks down the street from their current residence of Keigan Street. The new home would be located on the corner of Keigan and Locusts Street and today it acts as the current Methodist Church Parsonage. Both of the homes that Chesley and Orvy lived in on Keigan Street are still standing. I am told that Orvy would have rather stayed in the home that they had made together but the sale had already been made to longtime family friends, Elliot and CoLene Cluck, grocers and neighbors.

Chesley was a member of the Board of Directors of the Dawson Springs Comerical Bank, he was the founder of the Chesley Franklin Coal Company, and co-owner of the Decola Franklin Coal Company, as well as another mine that had just been re-opened. He was a devoted husband and father and was missed by his large family and many friends. Over the last years of his life he enjoyed working with both his son and his daughter Wetona on business ventures. He had employed many members of his family, as well as his extended family. He had looked after his mother, his younger brother Edward, also known as Uncle Ed, his sister-in-law Tilathy, among others. It was also during this time in his life that he and his son attended two Republican National Conventions, spent time on the Florida coast where he and Orvy had purchased a summer home, he made many Saturday trips to Hopkinsville with the family for dinner, and on some days could be found sitting outside the Standard Station discussing the day's news, or having breakfast at one of the local restaurants with his son Decola. Fortunately, he also made time to sit for a snap shot in his living room during these years with his grandchildren. A photo that would become one of my Mother's prized possessions. In the photo Chesley is sitting in a chair in the living room at the house on the corner of Keigan and Franklin Streets, the fireplace can be seen and on a round occasional table a noticeable sign of the times is a starched doily with waves like the ocean. Flanked around him from side to side and on his lap were Trisha, Mom, as well as Wetona's three boys Dale, Lynn and Reed Harrell. Chesley was buried at Old Petersburg Cemetery just beyond the church in Mannington, Kentucky where he and Orvy had both grown up. Buried beside him was their first born son Madison, who had died as an infant.

Over the years I have heard Nannie often speak of Chesley fondly, she had a great deal of respect for him as did many members of the family and the community. Fondly enough the most frequent of those stories was about the day that he came into Mr. Kavanaugh's Grocery store and told her that he had a son that he would like for her to meet. That introduction would change her young life as do so many introductions that follow with love, marriage and starting a family. It's hard to say if fate had a hand in that or if they would have met regardless…I like to think it did. What can certainly be determined is that Chesley had good taste in beauty and in character.

During this time in the country President John F. Kennedy was assassinated in Dallas, the Civil Rights Movement would begin, only to be followed by the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr., the leader of the Civil Rights Movement and Senator Robert F. Kennedy, former Attorney General and brother of slain President JFK. The war in Vietnam would begin and the first voyage to the Moon would become a success. All of these events I am sure were watched conscientiously on the television and read about in the newspapers in the den on Hospital Road. Just like for any other American family, the 1960s would have its moments for the Franklin's.

Brunette: The 1950s

From growing up in the country, being a part of a large family, having a deep faith and having a strong sense of character led her where she needed to go throughout her life. She would see all sorts of things in life. In her early years she would learn what it meant to grow up on a farm and the resourcefulness that that life requires. Helping her mother make pies, cornbread and other staples for lunch and dinner. Learning to milk the cows, a chore she chose to be able to spend time with her father because she was certainly a Daddy's girl. Wearing flower sack dresses while playing in school yards after having a lunch that consisted of a country ham biscuit made from scratch in her mother's southern kitchen. Her memories often took her back to the pastures she walked across with her sisters to pick blackberries for "Mother's" cobblers and long stays with relatives in need of a care taker due to a pregnancy or a sickness. Stays where her work was not paid for and pay was not expected but was considered an offering of love that you shared with family and neighbors in need. Her love of those times and the knowledge and strength that she gained in those days would always be with her on her journey.

Later, on the streets of Evansville she would find herself as a "Lady," it was there that she found the departments stores - leaving behind her modest homemade dresses but never disregarding the love that went into making them - never ever forgetting that. There in the factory working to construct planes that were used to defeat an enemy, planes that would help to send her brother, cousins and friends home from the war she would learn the result of hard work and sacrifice. It is always a combination of all our early life's experience that allow us to approach the future with more confidence and less fear.

After she married and her girls were born, at the house of Hospital Road she would find herself in her true element. Mom has often reflected on fond memories of her sitting in front of her dressing table for a long time on Saturday afternoons - getting ready. The days of rhinestones, red fingernails, mink stoles, hats and gloves. It was during this time of her life that Decola would begin taking a huge interest politics; local and statewide. In the best interest of the country and that of business my Grandfather Decola and his father Chesley became very involved in local and state politics. It was during this era that Decola was selected as a member of the Electoral College for the Commonwealth of Kentucky to vote in the 1952 election between General Dwight Eisenhower and Adlai Stevenson. During these years the family would ride high. Patricia, who I refer to as Trisha, was in school while Mom was in diapers. Nights spent hob-knobbing in Frankfort and Louisville would be intertwined with family dinners at home of spaghetti and meatballs and weekend shopping trips in Hopkinsville or at Baker and Hickman's in Madisonville. Did I mention Baker and Hickmans? This was a department store on Madisonville's court square and Nannie was a fixture of this institution. Infact she knew most if not all of the staff by name and it was here that she would often been catered to as was Julia Roberts in the Rodeo Drive scene of the film "Pretty Woman." Sunday dinners were divided between times at Orvy's sister and brother-law, Aunt Agnes and Uncle Chester's farm outside of Nortonville, Kentucky or "up on the hill" at Mamaw and Papaw's. Trisha would be taken to piano and dance lessons to be followed by her younger sister in years to come. Their civic involvement would be important in these times too as Decola's was a part of the local Rotary Chapter and the establishment of the West Hopkins Industries and Nannies with the Business and Professional Women's Club and the Republican Ladies Caucus. And to and from all of these activities they would drive their Chevy Impalas or station wagons all purchased from DeHaven's Chevrolet which later became Jennings Chevrolet. It was during the 1950s that she replaced her Duncan Phyfe furniture with Early American and this would prove to be prosperous and good time in her life.

Boxes and albums of pictures show the young family all smiles. Enjoying time with Ami and Gar - new nicknames given to Aminell and Garland by my Mom. Also with Joe and Louise, who I refer to as Auntie, and who had recently met and married while Joe was returning from the Korean War and stationed in Washington near Seattle. Louise was originally from Alaska and was training in Seattle to become a dental hygienist when she met my uncle and they later married. Louise would quickly become a close friend and confidant to Nannie and probably was just like having another sister, and would become highly revered among all the Russell's. Joe and Auntie would have three children Susan, Joanie and Brian. Susan and Joanie are really close to my Mom's age and they would all grow up together as playmates and Brian followed behind them and they would carry him around on their hip - a great replacement for the usual doll.

To be continued...

{This is a part of a series about my Grandmother, Brunette Russell Franklin Cato, titled:  Brunette}

Brunette: The American Dream

It becomes an interesting process to go back and explore places that I have never been. But this territory often does become the arena for a story teller. To go back to places that are only in my imagination is an exploration unique to my minds capabilities. To go back to the "Old Home Place" in Menser, to go "Up on the Hill," to imagine the worries that filled the minds of a mom and dad with two sons in a war across the seas and two daughters in a city that was out of their sight as well. To imagine life in time without electricity, phones, indoor plumbing - without even mentioning cell phones, computers and the internet. I can only go back to these places because of the family that has taken me there. Remembering stories passed around family tables for fifty years. Stories about my Uncle William, who was injured in the war and was in an Army Hospital for several months with no way to write back to Mamaw and Papaw - an injury that earned him a Purple Heart. Stories of rations, war bonds, happy Christmas's all the stories that link me to these people. Knowing all the while that without them I would have never came about. Knowing the history of my family, the lore of our own people makes me tied to them even more. A tie that relates me to people that I never even met but share the same blood line. I suppose it is only a pride that comes from a family with so much love for one another. A large family that was certainly affected early on by World War II and because of that would always mark that period with phrases like: "just before the war," or "after the war." So I suppose that is just the way I will address it myself.

After the war ended and the Russell family reassembled I can imagine the work going on in Mamaw's kitchen - food galore. Like a hen gathering her chicks I am sure she swelled with pride and said a pray of thanks for her children to all be safe and home again. And it was during this time after World War II that the Russell children would start their own families. Raymond married as had Pauline. Pauline and Hugh(Crowe) not long after the war moved to Kuttawa and then to Florida where she still resides. Rudell would marry Bill Clay a young man whom she had went to school with who had also grown up in Menser. Nannie would marry my Grandfather Decola Franklin in 1946, a man that I never had the privilege of knowing, and soon after in 1948 Aminell would marry Garland L. Witherspoon, also known as "Spoony." These marriages would bring more seats to the table and very soon would fill the Russell's house "up on the hill" with grandchildren. The cycle would begin again.

Upon marriage Nannie and Decola moved in with his parents Chesley and Orva. However, there was a house on East Ramsey Street that had been split up into three or four apartments, Rudell and Bill rented one of those apartments already. As soon as one of those apartments became available Nannie and Decola followed their lead and set up housekeeping on Ramsey Street as well. The home is no longer there but I believe it would have been on the lot that is just behind the former First Federal Bank Building, their neighbors would have been Dr. and Mrs. Boitnett and across the was Mr. and Mrs. Woodburn. Some friends of my grandparents Lowell "Stump" and Loretta Smiley also lived in this building and I know that this was a happy time for these young couples. Traveling the country side going to football games and following Nannie's younger brother Joe's basketball team were among their activities.

In way of working Nannie was still working for Mr. Kavanaugh, and conveniently his grocery store was just across the street from their new apartment. Decola had attended Lindsey Wilson College in Colombia, Kentucky and studied to be a teacher. He was employed first at Nortonville High School where his uncle Chester Ausenbaugh was Principal; Chester's wife Carne Mae was his father's sister and she was a teacher at the Dawson Springs School System for many years. I believe Decola taught Civics, Economics and History. But soon he would find that the family business was calling his name, so he went to work at the mines. At the Chesley Frankly Coal Company he assisted his father with the management of what at one time would be a three, one tipple mining operation consisting of three different underground mines. The mines were located in a community called Beulah, located just outside of Dawson Springs. At that time coal was depended on as a source of heat for homes and this business proved to be a lucrative one for many years to come. Following in his father's footsteps by becoming a business man was not unconventional at all since his own father had done just that. Chesley was the son of Thomas Randall "T.R." and Salley Rachel Ezel Franklin, and T.R. Franklin was a long time entrepreneur in Mannington, Kentucky as well as Dawson Springs. T.R. had moved the family to Dawson Springs in 1925 where he had purchased several businesses including: a grocery store, a restaurant, a saloon and the Saint Earle Hotel. The St. Earle would become a nesting place for his children as they married and began their own families. I do believe that at one time Chelsey and Orvy lived there among, Oma Todd - Chesley's sister, Johnny and Tilathy Franklin, and any other members of the family were welcome and came and went. I am sure if there were any vacant rooms at the St. Earle they were rented to boarders. In those days the family all had tabs at the grocery for their food, and I am sure that was also available to them at the restaurant and the saloon. Among the photographs and post cards of these family members and the St. Earle Hotel, my mother has a calendar that had been saved by her Aunt Tilathy (I believe) the calendar is mauve and rectangular depicting a young lady in flapper style and printed on the calendar is the information about the grocery store. This was probably a gift to loyal customers as was and still is the custom of many businesses.

In this time of their life Nannie and Decola also Started their family. Their first daughter was born in 1947 and they named her Patricia Joyce. Patricia was the Franklin's first grandchild and they adored her. With a new baby a house was a new need and Nannie and Decola would purchase a house at 542 South Main Street, this home was located across from the home of Mr. and Mrs. Butch wise and next to Mr. and Mrs. Roam. They would live in this home for a few years before purchasing their home on Hospital Road that had been built by a man named Lonnie Parsons. The home at 714 Hospital Road would become home base for the Franklin family for many years. It is my memory that they moved there in the early 1950s living there until 1972. During their years there they built on a new wing, so to speak for their growing family. This consisted of a den, bedroom, bathroom and carport - they paved the drive way built a barbeque pit and bricked the home. Just as many World War II veterans - Decola and his wife settled in nicely to post war living and joined in the baby boom. In 1955 my mother was born and named after her Grandmother; Orva DeNell Franklin, and now the family was complete.

Too be continued…

{This blog is part of a series of blogs about my Grandmother, Brunette Russell Franklin Cato, titled: Brunette}

Brunette: The War Years

I know all these faces all too well…but I knew them when they were older. These people that grew up with Nannie were my own Mom's Aunts and Uncles. I knew them all - all but William. I have seen this photo so many times that I can identify them almost in order from memory. I watched them line up for photos such as this for years at the Russell reunion. I watched them line up year after year until this large group has become small. This photo was taken in the same time period that all of these children were attending the same one room school in Menser. A school from first grade to eighth. Once at my Uncle Joe and Auntie's house when several family members were gathered in the living room telling stories about the old days. A story came up about Nannie coming in from recess where she had been looking for her younger sister Aminell. Ami, as I refer to her, was sitting in from recess and the teacher was at her desk grading papers. Nannie approached her asking her why she was sitting in and Ami began to tell her. The little girl who sat in front of her had turned around during class and began to talk and the teacher had punished them both. A very believable story since my Aunt Ami was a very bashful child. Ami said "Brunette looked at me and said: " "You get up and come play, Momma told me to look out for you all." She said that she did just that and the teacher did nothing to stop them. After that story concluded my Uncle Phillip quickly piped in to say that she had done the same for him once during those days. That made me proud. I guess because I have always known what it is like to have a cool older sister to look out for me. Nannie always held that responsibility of keeping an eye out for her brothers and sisters over the years.


The years at the "Russell Home Place" was a time that Nannie and all of her brothers and sisters remembered fondly. A time period that our country was suffering from an ailing economy that we all know of as The Great Depression. Life for the Russell's wasn't perfect of course but Papaw Russell had a good job and the bounty of their garden, the fruit trees and livestock sustained them. I believe they felt little of that plight that so many other families during that time period did. As time passed and the war began Nannie's older sister married a young man, who was enlisted to serve in the United States Army. Pauline was expecting her first daughter and Mamaw and Papaw thought it would be best to have the baby in town where doctors were more readily available. On Labor Day weekend of 1942, Papaw sold the "Russell Home Place" to a family friend D.O. Dumbar, and the family moved into Dawson Springs. They rented a house on School Street from Aubry Inglish, a teacher and coach at Dawson Springs School, which was also located just down the street. I believe that Mr. Inglish and his wife lived right next door on the corner of Keigan and School Streets. The school building located in the neighborhood and Nannie and Phillip had an easy walk down the street to the school where as Joe and Ami were expected to walk a little farther to the newly built school located on Eli Street, this building is the current Middle School in Dawson Springs. This home had indoor plumbing, a luxury that the family had not yet known but the idea of renting a home and having a very small yard was not an idea that worked well for Papaw. As a result the family spent very little time at the home on School Street and later moved to the corner of Trim and Walnut Street, the home later gained the phrase "Up on the Hill." It was there that Papaw and Mamaw Russell would reside for the rest of their lives. It was this home that hosted countless family dinners with family spilling into every room and onto the lawn. It was "Up on the Hill" where yellow ribbons waved in the breeze on the porch and acknowledgement of their sons being in the service. A house that became a home for many in so many ways.

During that same time Raymond and William would enlist and serve the country in the U.S. Army. Rudell finished school and moved to Evansville, Indiana where she worked at The Evansville Shipyard where LSTs (Landing Ship Tanks) were produced. Forty five acre ship yard employed over nineteen thousand people, many of which were young women like my Aunt Rudell. Individuals who were eager to support the war effort. These tanks of the water were perfect for delivering troops and equipment to many theaters of the war. During her stay in Evansville she lived with Mamaw's younger brother Marion and his wife Lucille and she also managed to coax Nannie into joining her in this effort when the time was right. When Nannie made the move to Evansville she worked at Republic Aviation where P47 Thunderbolt Fighter Planes were manufactured. Nannie was among around eight thousand riveters and bumpers, mostly women who worked to create these nimble aircrafts. These manufacturing facilities such as The Evansville Shipyard and Republic Aviation were rapidly cropping up across the nation - mostly transforming existing factories into thriving producers of much needed equipment to be used in World War II. The young ladies that worked in these factories became emblems of patriotism at home. Young women like Rudell and Nannie became thought of as independent patriots in their own right and the iconic character: Rosie the Riveter, later became their badge of honor.

The war changed things for this generation in so many ways. The war and it's needs created jobs that helped the U.S. to rapidly climb out of an economic depression that proved to be the bleakest of our nation's economic time periods. Many lives were lost but our efforts among those of the Allies haulted Adolf Hitler's demonic plans. Returning from the war victorious were the young men who these same women had wrote letters to and worried over. And although their efforts may not have been as dangerous - the nation called and they answered too. Dutifully providing a much needed service. Of course there were more trivial changes as well…for Nannie, I can imagine Evansville was probably the beginning of her love affair with clothing. Saying good bye to her home made dresses and replacing them with garments from the stores that lined the downtown streets of this industrial town. This may even be where the trade mark red fringer nail polish originated. Photos of her during this time provide that of a beautiful young girl - all smiles with her friends and Rudell. These women returned home stronger, more independent and elated with the countries successful involvement in the War. There is really no way that I can determine what her feeling were at this time in her life. But I do know this, it changed her and upon returning from this venture she was probably ready to embark on her own future and not just that of the war. The years after the war would probably be considered the best years of her life.

During that block of time she began working for Mr. Kavanaugh a local grocer where she took care of business as a clerk at the counter. It was there that she would meet a man by the name of Chesley Franklin. Chesley at that time was a mine owner that sold coal to the likes of Fort Campbell and the VA Hostpital at Outwood. A successful business man who lived with his wife Orva Teaque Franklin on the corner of Franklin and Keigan Street. A two story white stucco home purchased from one of the doctors in town in the 1930s. Chesley and Orvy, as the family referred to her, had two children: Decola Wayne and Wetona Joyce Franklin. Decola was born in December of 1920 and Wetona later in 1928. During one of Chesley's trips to grocery, he mention to Nannie that he had a son that had served in the Navy during the recent war, and when his son returned home he would like for them to meet. And as she always said, she met Decola later that year and in 1946 she became Mrs. Decola Franklin.

To be continued.

{This is a contiuation of a story about the life of my Grandmother, Brunette Russell Franklin Cato, titled:  Brunette.}