My family has rich history rooted in Tallahassee and Florida State University. Ancestors on my dad’s side were among the original people of Tallahassee. One of my great grandmothers was half Creek Indian. My other grandmother was attended Florida State during the time that it was Florida State College for Women. I have also had both grandparents and father graduate from Florida State. As you can see, my roots are deeply planted in Tallahassee My grandfather grew up off of Tharpe Street when it was only a dirt road....
He had been fighting cancer for about 4 or 5 years and had been cleared for a while, but it had come back and he was diagnosed with prostate cancer and told this was probably going to be it. That summer my grandparents had one request, that all of the family would go on a vacation together that summer for their 50th wedding anniversary. We all went to my aunt and uncle’s beach house in St. Augustine, Florida for a week. For that one week, we played on the beach, watched sunsets all together, sang and danced, had meals together as a family, and enjoyed every minute we had together. While we were all there, we reenacted my grandparents wedding and made a tux and wedding dress for my grandfather and grandmother (Granny), out of trash bags, duct tape, and tissue paper.
In the year of 1932 on November 9th, Ollie Lee Brown was born to Floyd and Rilla Brown. He was delivered by a mid-wife in the back room of his family’s small house. During this time period Ollie’s family and others like them didn’t go to hospitals. They were either too far away, or there wasn’t admittance for them, or they just couldn’t afford a hospital visit. He was one of ten children; seven boys and three girls. Ollie grew up as the son of a sharecropper in the rural area of Enterprise, Mississippi. His father worked hard for many years and saved until he had enough money to buy a piece of land and build a four bedroom home for the family of twelve. Ollie’s family was one of a few coloreds who had their own home.
Tough to fathom that my Grandpa survived two wars. World War II and the Korean War. He was injured in both wars and would receive a purple heart in regards to his battle wounds. In fact, he walked around with shrapnel lodged in the back his neck for the duration of his life. The conditions as he explained in both wars were quite harsh. He said that he and his infantry would dig out foxholes, (a hole in the ground to protect them from enemy fire). According to my father, “Grandpa had to survive in zero degree temperatures in the Korean War. They wore minimal clothing as compared to soldiers today, who are fortunate enough to have new technology that provides better warmth in combat.” This information in fact comes from a man who had been in a few combat situations overseas while serving in the NAVY. He said himself that he was able to wear ‘thick ass’ socks in frigid temperatures to stay warm. My Dad described my Grandpa by exclaiming that, “He was a ‘tough cookie.’ The dude was ‘tough as nails’.” Even though Grandpa was bruised and battered during his wartime battles, and possessed the traits of being a ‘tough cookie’, he was surely a loving Grandfather.
My aunt’s passing affected me as well due to the fact she was my favorite aunt. As a child I always wanted to go to her house and spend time with her because she was always so concerned about what was going on with my brother and me. I assumed it was because she loved us more than her children but now I know it’s because we lived so far away from the rest of the family in Virginia. When my mother told me that my aunt had AIDS my first reaction resulted in crying because I knew she was going to die. Then anger because her and the family kept it from me until she was on her death bed. At the time she was diagnosed with AIDS there wasn’t much information about the virus therefore there wasn’t much treatment for it either. I too was guilty of treating my aunt indifferently
In a very small community, situated on the top of the big Colombian mountains very far from a big and crowded city is. Where humble but hard working families are always trying to move forward and be successful, but these families are always living in fear that their home and property, the only thing that they have, will be invaded and taken away without their permission.
The Sanchez family, formed by Manuel and Matilda Sanchez, 38 and 35 years of age, two sons, and one daughter were living and working on their farm. They were growing and picking coffee beans, and beans. Also, they had some chickens, cows, pigs, and goats. They collected and took these products to the closest market to sell them and earn enough money to buy groceries and make a living.
In 1969, my mother and father attended Crystal Lake Junior High School in Lakeland, Fl. They first met in a history class where they were sitting in the second row of the classroom. From then on, they kept talking to each other whether it was school, sports, family, etc.
It was just another normal everyday Tuesday. Everyone woke up to a beautiful morning in September, anxious for the fall weather to come. In every shop and everyone’s home the televisions would blare the morning news. It was another humdrum everyday morning, until all of a sudden, like as if from a nightmare, the televisions soon turned to the World Trade Center. There it stood with smoke pouring from the side. Not but maybe a few minutes later a plane crashed into the second Twin Tower and threw everyone into shock.
This is a short story about a spunky, limber 97 year old woman’s life from WWI ‘til today. Let me tell you about this ladies journey from Pennsylvania to Tallahassee enduring WWI, WWII, engagement, The Great Depression, Pearl Harbor, marriage, Vietnam War, kids and farts.
Anyone who knew Billy Dial in the 1930s could tell that he was one of those guys who was really going to be somebody, the kind of young man who could get things done. Although I didn’t know him in the 1930s, I still came to know him later in life as my great-grandfather. I may have only known him for a short amount of time, but I am 100% certain that he was a man who had a vision, and a man who knew what he was doing.
It was a nice, sunny morning with no clouds in the sky. The New York City traffic was very busy as usual and people were getting off the subway on their way to work. The city buses were proceeding on their set schedules and the taxis where picking up and dropping off people at their desired destination. Everything in New York City was functioning at its normal pace. My mom who was a medical examiner for the New York Police Department went to work on September 11th 2001 not knowing that this day would change her life tragically. She drove a two and a half hour ride to New York City from up state New York as she did everyday and entered her office like a normal workday. She was organizing her files, answering frequent phone calls that came through her phone line and talking to her colleagues about their plans for the weekend.
My Grandfather and his first wife met at Florida State University in 1947, after the school became co-ed and admitted men, such as my grandpa. Virginia Wilder was the type of student that worked hard in all of her classes and studied regularly. She graduated with great grades and a high GPA. However, my grandpa was not so much the studious type. He enjoyed more of the fun, party side of college and probably would have failed out of more than a few classes without his then girlfriend’s help. As the story goes, my grandpa was quite the procrastinator and often turned to Virginia for help on homework and studying.
Maria Puleio was about twenty-two years old when she immigrated to the United States from Colombia. Although she loved Colombia with a passion, she felt that the United States had more in store for her. So she took her chances and moved to the city of Boston, Massachusetts. She moved into an apartment all by herself, which was located right by the Massachusetts Bay Transportation Authority blue train route, which she used to get around.
As I was grasping all of the immense details of my great grandfathers life and journey to the United States my grandmother proceeded to expel the next document in her manila folder which oddly enough was another certificate. I was starting to wonder if my great grandparents were given numerous awards, but it was a marriage certificate instead. This certificate was just as ancient and ruffed up and discolored as the first one she pulled out. On the top in big bold letters was “Certificate of Marriage”. Ironically enough, his last name was spelled wrong again as well as my great grandmothers last name, which was Astorino, which they spelled Osterino. It’s a wonder why not many stories of my family were easily discovered on the internet due to the new spelling and identities these officials were mistakenly awarding my great grandparents.
The Nile annual floods, Egypt called itself Kemet, meaning Black land. In Upper Egypt, from Aswan to the delta, the black, fertile deposits of the river covered an extremely narrow strip of land. Surrounding the river’s alluvial plain was the Red land, the desert environment that could not support life, but where rich deposit of minerals and stone could be mined and quarried. Lower Egypt consists of the Delta itself, which today begins some 13 miles north of Giza, the site of the largest pyramids, across the river from what is now modern Cairo. In ancient times, it began 18 miles south of Giza, near the city of Memphis.