OBITUARY:
Ruby Lewallen Harris, daughter of Filetus "F.L." Lewallen and Malinda Jane Blankenship Lewallen, was born in Newcomb, near Elk Valley, Campbell County, Tennessee, on August 17, 1908. She was the youngest of four children.
On April 13, 1929, in Coxton, Harlan County, Kentucky, she was united in marriage to Mont Washington Harris, son of John Smith Harris and Mary Eliza Frazier Harris of Lincoln County, Kentucky.
Around 1937, she and her husband and four children moved to Boone County, West Virginia, where the family eventually grew to a total of nine children.
Her husband, having spent most of his adult life working in the coal mines, passed away at the early age of 50 on February 22, 1953, in the 24th year of their marriage. She remained a widow for 46 years.
Highly regarded and respected by all those who knew her, many in the community affectionately referred to her as "Miss Harris."
She was pre-deceased by her sister Bertha Lay around 1921, her brother Lewis Lewallen in 1973, and her sister Ada Brown in 1992. She was also pre-deceased by her son Odell Harris in 1969, her daughter Christine Carter in 1996, her granddaughter Lesa Gay Harris in 1971, and her granddaughter Myra Kay Harris in 1997.
She leaves to mourn her loss: five sons: Cardell Harris of Letart, WV, Eudell Harris of Barrett, WV, Bredell Harris of Pen Argyl, PA, Mondell Harris of Barrett, WV, and Credell Harris of Barrett, WV; two daughters: Irene Smith of Midlothian, VA, and Sonja Harris of Bim, WV; fifteen grandchildren, eighteen great-grandchildren; one great-great-granddaughter; several sons- and daughters-in law; numerous nieces and nephews; and many other relatives and friends.
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A BRIEF MEMORIAL-BIO OF RUBY, WRITTEN BY HER GRANDSON JOHN CARTER:
My maternal grandmother was born Ruby Lewallen in Newcomb, Campbell County, Tennessee on 17 Aug 1908. Coming from a poor, coal-mining community, she never learned to read or write, or to drive a car. Being one of four children, her parents had separated by the time she was a young woman, her father having been an alcoholic and at least verbally abusive. (Once when my grandmother was having a disagreement of some sort with her father, he told her "I wish you'd never been born.")
She became Ruby Harris when she married my grandfather Mont Washington Harris at age 20 on 13 Apr 1929 just over the border in Harlan County, Kentucky. She and my grandfather had nine children, of which my mother and her twin sister were the eldest. Around 1937, between their 4th and 5th child, the family moved to a very small town in rural Boone County, West Virginia, another coal-mining community. The family home did not even have a bathroom until my grandfather added one onto the house as the children got a little older.
Their children comprised six boys and three girls, with four of the boys (and the husband of one of the daughters) (and the wife of one of the sons) working for the coal mines as well. Life in the early years in West Virginia was tough, but became even tougher in 1953 when my grandfather passed away from a combination of black lung and Addison's Disease. At the time, the children's ages ranged between 22 down to 4. None of the older siblings finished high school, needing to work instead. With Ruby herself not having any skills other than how to maintain a household, and with being illiterate and having no means of transportation, (and, at age 44, being too young for Social Security), she began doing laundry and ironing for other families in the neighborhood to earn what little money she could. (She did end up getting a very small pension of some sort "from the mines" due to my grandfather's death).
As the years went by, my mother moved away—first to the "big city" of Charleston (the capital of WV) where she roomed with a cousin, and later responding to a call for glass plant workers in southern New Jersey, where she met and married my father. Within a year (after a brief stint in Dover, Delaware, where I was born in 1958) they moved away to California, where my dad had been stationed while in the service. But through much of the 1960s up until around 1971, my mom, younger brother and I would spend summers at "Mawmaw" Ruby's in West Virginia, where I got to witness first-hand the values and work ethic of my grandmother. Life had forged her into a tough, hard woman, but one who still had a soft heart. Her very essence garnered respect, with everyone in the small, tight-knit community referring to her as "Miss Harris" (even though she was a "Mrs."), probably because many of the younger generation had only known her as a single widow. She was married for just under 24 years, but lived as a widow for another 43 years after my grandfather's passing.
She was without a doubt the most frugal person I've ever known, often getting her eggs from one store, her milk from another, and her bread from somewhere else, just because they each might be a couple of cents cheaper at one store or the other. Although there were a couple of old-time "general stores" within walking distance, some purchases required one of her children to drive her to the desired place for shopping, or, as she called it, where she did her "tradin'." As a youngster I once saw her take a live chicken and "ring its neck" on her back porch and de-feather it afterward in preparation for a meal. Her homemade biscuits, fried beans (and anything else she'd make) were fantastic. Once when I had a stomach ache (from eating too many green apples from one or her several apple trees), she went out to the bank of the river in front of her house and gathered peppermint or spearmint to make a tea for me to drink. During summers my brother and I always loved catching fireflies (or, as we called them, "lightning bugs") in her yard, and putting them in empty blue glass Noxema or Vicks jars.
Most Sundays (in the summertime) after church (which was right next door to her house, my grandfather having donated the land for the church building), she would walk up to the "graveyard" on top of a nearby smallish mountain where my grandfather was buried, my mom and brother and I accompanying her. I believe these cemetery visits (and showing respect for those who had passed on) instilled my early interest in what would eventually become my obsession with genealogy (since I earnestly began my lifelong genealogy pursuit when I was 15).
She also had several wind-up clocks in her home, with each of my uncles who'd served in the military having brought her a cuckoo clock from Germany, or a mantle clock from somewhere else, and so on. Her youngest son had also bought her a grandfather clock. Being in her home and observing all of her clocks was thus the genesis for my decades-long interest in clock collecting as well.
She was notorious for hating to have her photograph taken (another trait of hers that I share!) and for that reason only a few photos exist of her, even though she lived until 1999. Once when my mother had acquired a brand-new camera in the late 1950s or early 1960s, she snapped a photo of Mawmaw Ruby against her wishes. Later, when my mother left the camera unattended, Mawmaw opened the camera, unrolled the film and exposed it to sunlight, rolled it up and put it back in the camera. When my mother had the film developed and all of the photos were blank, she returned the camera, deeming it "broken." Mawmaw didn't tell her until much later what she had done to the film. Years later one of my cousins also made the mistake of snapping a photo of our grandmother without permission and promptly had a shoe thrown at her! There exists only one single "posed" photo of Mawmaw Ruby from her entire life, taken in one of the photographic studios at Sears or JC Penneys or somewhere similar, later in life, when she was perhaps in her 80s. [Photo is posted here, on her FindAGrave memorial]. Somehow her youngest son (who always had better luck in getting her to do things) convinced her to do it, and the rest of the family to this day is still amazed that he was able to get her to pose for the photo. The four or five other photos that exist of her are ones in which she was "accidentally" captured in the margin of a photo being taken of someone else.
She was a very stubborn individual, but also beloved and respected by all who knew her.
She lived until two months' shy of her 91st birthday, having become a great-great-grandmother a few months prior. She now rests with my grandfather on top of a mountain in Boone County, West Virginia.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Ruby Lewallen Harris, daughter of Filetus "F.L." Lewallen and Malinda Jane Blankenship Lewallen, was born in Newcomb, near Elk Valley, Campbell County, Tennessee, on August 17, 1908. She was the youngest of four children.
On April 13, 1929, in Coxton, Harlan County, Kentucky, she was united in marriage to Mont Washington Harris, son of John Smith Harris and Mary Eliza Frazier Harris of Lincoln County, Kentucky.
Around 1937, she and her husband and four children moved to Boone County, West Virginia, where the family eventually grew to a total of nine children.
Her husband, having spent most of his adult life working in the coal mines, passed away at the early age of 50 on February 22, 1953, in the 24th year of their marriage. She remained a widow for 46 years.
Highly regarded and respected by all those who knew her, many in the community affectionately referred to her as "Miss Harris."
She was pre-deceased by her sister Bertha Lay around 1921, her brother Lewis Lewallen in 1973, and her sister Ada Brown in 1992. She was also pre-deceased by her son Odell Harris in 1969, her daughter Christine Carter in 1996, her granddaughter Lesa Gay Harris in 1971, and her granddaughter Myra Kay Harris in 1997.
She leaves to mourn her loss: five sons: Cardell Harris of Letart, WV, Eudell Harris of Barrett, WV, Bredell Harris of Pen Argyl, PA, Mondell Harris of Barrett, WV, and Credell Harris of Barrett, WV; two daughters: Irene Smith of Midlothian, VA, and Sonja Harris of Bim, WV; fifteen grandchildren, eighteen great-grandchildren; one great-great-granddaughter; several sons- and daughters-in law; numerous nieces and nephews; and many other relatives and friends.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
A BRIEF MEMORIAL-BIO OF RUBY, WRITTEN BY HER GRANDSON JOHN CARTER:
My maternal grandmother was born Ruby Lewallen in Newcomb, Campbell County, Tennessee on 17 Aug 1908. Coming from a poor, coal-mining community, she never learned to read or write, or to drive a car. Being one of four children, her parents had separated by the time she was a young woman, her father having been an alcoholic and at least verbally abusive. (Once when my grandmother was having a disagreement of some sort with her father, he told her "I wish you'd never been born.")
She became Ruby Harris when she married my grandfather Mont Washington Harris at age 20 on 13 Apr 1929 just over the border in Harlan County, Kentucky. She and my grandfather had nine children, of which my mother and her twin sister were the eldest. Around 1937, between their 4th and 5th child, the family moved to a very small town in rural Boone County, West Virginia, another coal-mining community. The family home did not even have a bathroom until my grandfather added one onto the house as the children got a little older.
Their children comprised six boys and three girls, with four of the boys (and the husband of one of the daughters) (and the wife of one of the sons) working for the coal mines as well. Life in the early years in West Virginia was tough, but became even tougher in 1953 when my grandfather passed away from a combination of black lung and Addison's Disease. At the time, the children's ages ranged between 22 down to 4. None of the older siblings finished high school, needing to work instead. With Ruby herself not having any skills other than how to maintain a household, and with being illiterate and having no means of transportation, (and, at age 44, being too young for Social Security), she began doing laundry and ironing for other families in the neighborhood to earn what little money she could. (She did end up getting a very small pension of some sort "from the mines" due to my grandfather's death).
As the years went by, my mother moved away—first to the "big city" of Charleston (the capital of WV) where she roomed with a cousin, and later responding to a call for glass plant workers in southern New Jersey, where she met and married my father. Within a year (after a brief stint in Dover, Delaware, where I was born in 1958) they moved away to California, where my dad had been stationed while in the service. But through much of the 1960s up until around 1971, my mom, younger brother and I would spend summers at "Mawmaw" Ruby's in West Virginia, where I got to witness first-hand the values and work ethic of my grandmother. Life had forged her into a tough, hard woman, but one who still had a soft heart. Her very essence garnered respect, with everyone in the small, tight-knit community referring to her as "Miss Harris" (even though she was a "Mrs."), probably because many of the younger generation had only known her as a single widow. She was married for just under 24 years, but lived as a widow for another 43 years after my grandfather's passing.
She was without a doubt the most frugal person I've ever known, often getting her eggs from one store, her milk from another, and her bread from somewhere else, just because they each might be a couple of cents cheaper at one store or the other. Although there were a couple of old-time "general stores" within walking distance, some purchases required one of her children to drive her to the desired place for shopping, or, as she called it, where she did her "tradin'." As a youngster I once saw her take a live chicken and "ring its neck" on her back porch and de-feather it afterward in preparation for a meal. Her homemade biscuits, fried beans (and anything else she'd make) were fantastic. Once when I had a stomach ache (from eating too many green apples from one or her several apple trees), she went out to the bank of the river in front of her house and gathered peppermint or spearmint to make a tea for me to drink. During summers my brother and I always loved catching fireflies (or, as we called them, "lightning bugs") in her yard, and putting them in empty blue glass Noxema or Vicks jars.
Most Sundays (in the summertime) after church (which was right next door to her house, my grandfather having donated the land for the church building), she would walk up to the "graveyard" on top of a nearby smallish mountain where my grandfather was buried, my mom and brother and I accompanying her. I believe these cemetery visits (and showing respect for those who had passed on) instilled my early interest in what would eventually become my obsession with genealogy (since I earnestly began my lifelong genealogy pursuit when I was 15).
She also had several wind-up clocks in her home, with each of my uncles who'd served in the military having brought her a cuckoo clock from Germany, or a mantle clock from somewhere else, and so on. Her youngest son had also bought her a grandfather clock. Being in her home and observing all of her clocks was thus the genesis for my decades-long interest in clock collecting as well.
She was notorious for hating to have her photograph taken (another trait of hers that I share!) and for that reason only a few photos exist of her, even though she lived until 1999. Once when my mother had acquired a brand-new camera in the late 1950s or early 1960s, she snapped a photo of Mawmaw Ruby against her wishes. Later, when my mother left the camera unattended, Mawmaw opened the camera, unrolled the film and exposed it to sunlight, rolled it up and put it back in the camera. When my mother had the film developed and all of the photos were blank, she returned the camera, deeming it "broken." Mawmaw didn't tell her until much later what she had done to the film. Years later one of my cousins also made the mistake of snapping a photo of our grandmother without permission and promptly had a shoe thrown at her! There exists only one single "posed" photo of Mawmaw Ruby from her entire life, taken in one of the photographic studios at Sears or JC Penneys or somewhere similar, later in life, when she was perhaps in her 80s. [Photo is posted here, on her FindAGrave memorial]. Somehow her youngest son (who always had better luck in getting her to do things) convinced her to do it, and the rest of the family to this day is still amazed that he was able to get her to pose for the photo. The four or five other photos that exist of her are ones in which she was "accidentally" captured in the margin of a photo being taken of someone else.
She was a very stubborn individual, but also beloved and respected by all who knew her.
She lived until two months' shy of her 91st birthday, having become a great-great-grandmother a few months prior. She now rests with my grandfather on top of a mountain in Boone County, West Virginia.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
OBITUARY:
Ruby Lewallen Harris, daughter of Filetus "F.L." Lewallen and Malinda Jane Blankenship Lewallen, was born in Newcomb, near Elk Valley, Campbell County, Tennessee, on August 17, 1908. She was the youngest of four children.
On April 13, 1929, in Coxton, Harlan County, Kentucky, she was united in marriage to Mont Washington Harris, son of John Smith Harris and Mary Eliza Frazier Harris of Lincoln County, Kentucky.
Around 1937, she and her husband and four children moved to Boone County, West Virginia, where the family eventually grew to a total of nine children.
Her husband, having spent most of his adult life working in the coal mines, passed away at the early age of 50 on February 22, 1953, in the 24th year of their marriage. She remained a widow for 46 years.
Highly regarded and respected by all those who knew her, many in the community affectionately referred to her as "Miss Harris."
She was pre-deceased by her sister Bertha Lay around 1921, her brother Lewis Lewallen in 1973, and her sister Ada Brown in 1992. She was also pre-deceased by her son Odell Harris in 1969, her daughter Christine Carter in 1996, her granddaughter Lesa Gay Harris in 1971, and her granddaughter Myra Kay Harris in 1997.
She leaves to mourn her loss: five sons: Cardell Harris of Letart, WV, Eudell Harris of Barrett, WV, Bredell Harris of Pen Argyl, PA, Mondell Harris of Barrett, WV, and Credell Harris of Barrett, WV; two daughters: Irene Smith of Midlothian, VA, and Sonja Harris of Bim, WV; fifteen grandchildren, eighteen great-grandchildren; one great-great-granddaughter; several sons- and daughters-in law; numerous nieces and nephews; and many other relatives and friends.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
A BRIEF MEMORIAL-BIO OF RUBY, WRITTEN BY HER GRANDSON JOHN CARTER:
My maternal grandmother was born Ruby Lewallen in Newcomb, Campbell County, Tennessee on 17 Aug 1908. Coming from a poor, coal-mining community, she never learned to read or write, or to drive a car. Being one of four children, her parents had separated by the time she was a young woman, her father having been an alcoholic and at least verbally abusive. (Once when my grandmother was having a disagreement of some sort with her father, he told her "I wish you'd never been born.")
She became Ruby Harris when she married my grandfather Mont Washington Harris at age 20 on 13 Apr 1929 just over the border in Harlan County, Kentucky. She and my grandfather had nine children, of which my mother and her twin sister were the eldest. Around 1937, between their 4th and 5th child, the family moved to a very small town in rural Boone County, West Virginia, another coal-mining community. The family home did not even have a bathroom until my grandfather added one onto the house as the children got a little older.
Their children comprised six boys and three girls, with four of the boys (and the husband of one of the daughters) (and the wife of one of the sons) working for the coal mines as well. Life in the early years in West Virginia was tough, but became even tougher in 1953 when my grandfather passed away from a combination of black lung and Addison's Disease. At the time, the children's ages ranged between 22 down to 4. None of the older siblings finished high school, needing to work instead. With Ruby herself not having any skills other than how to maintain a household, and with being illiterate and having no means of transportation, (and, at age 44, being too young for Social Security), she began doing laundry and ironing for other families in the neighborhood to earn what little money she could. (She did end up getting a very small pension of some sort "from the mines" due to my grandfather's death).
As the years went by, my mother moved away—first to the "big city" of Charleston (the capital of WV) where she roomed with a cousin, and later responding to a call for glass plant workers in southern New Jersey, where she met and married my father. Within a year (after a brief stint in Dover, Delaware, where I was born in 1958) they moved away to California, where my dad had been stationed while in the service. But through much of the 1960s up until around 1971, my mom, younger brother and I would spend summers at "Mawmaw" Ruby's in West Virginia, where I got to witness first-hand the values and work ethic of my grandmother. Life had forged her into a tough, hard woman, but one who still had a soft heart. Her very essence garnered respect, with everyone in the small, tight-knit community referring to her as "Miss Harris" (even though she was a "Mrs."), probably because many of the younger generation had only known her as a single widow. She was married for just under 24 years, but lived as a widow for another 43 years after my grandfather's passing.
She was without a doubt the most frugal person I've ever known, often getting her eggs from one store, her milk from another, and her bread from somewhere else, just because they each might be a couple of cents cheaper at one store or the other. Although there were a couple of old-time "general stores" within walking distance, some purchases required one of her children to drive her to the desired place for shopping, or, as she called it, where she did her "tradin'." As a youngster I once saw her take a live chicken and "ring its neck" on her back porch and de-feather it afterward in preparation for a meal. Her homemade biscuits, fried beans (and anything else she'd make) were fantastic. Once when I had a stomach ache (from eating too many green apples from one or her several apple trees), she went out to the bank of the river in front of her house and gathered peppermint or spearmint to make a tea for me to drink. During summers my brother and I always loved catching fireflies (or, as we called them, "lightning bugs") in her yard, and putting them in empty blue glass Noxema or Vicks jars.
Most Sundays (in the summertime) after church (which was right next door to her house, my grandfather having donated the land for the church building), she would walk up to the "graveyard" on top of a nearby smallish mountain where my grandfather was buried, my mom and brother and I accompanying her. I believe these cemetery visits (and showing respect for those who had passed on) instilled my early interest in what would eventually become my obsession with genealogy (since I earnestly began my lifelong genealogy pursuit when I was 15).
She also had several wind-up clocks in her home, with each of my uncles who'd served in the military having brought her a cuckoo clock from Germany, or a mantle clock from somewhere else, and so on. Her youngest son had also bought her a grandfather clock. Being in her home and observing all of her clocks was thus the genesis for my decades-long interest in clock collecting as well.
She was notorious for hating to have her photograph taken (another trait of hers that I share!) and for that reason only a few photos exist of her, even though she lived until 1999. Once when my mother had acquired a brand-new camera in the late 1950s or early 1960s, she snapped a photo of Mawmaw Ruby against her wishes. Later, when my mother left the camera unattended, Mawmaw opened the camera, unrolled the film and exposed it to sunlight, rolled it up and put it back in the camera. When my mother had the film developed and all of the photos were blank, she returned the camera, deeming it "broken." Mawmaw didn't tell her until much later what she had done to the film. Years later one of my cousins also made the mistake of snapping a photo of our grandmother without permission and promptly had a shoe thrown at her! There exists only one single "posed" photo of Mawmaw Ruby from her entire life, taken in one of the photographic studios at Sears or JC Penneys or somewhere similar, later in life, when she was perhaps in her 80s. [Photo is posted here, on her FindAGrave memorial]. Somehow her youngest son (who always had better luck in getting her to do things) convinced her to do it, and the rest of the family to this day is still amazed that he was able to get her to pose for the photo. The four or five other photos that exist of her are ones in which she was "accidentally" captured in the margin of a photo being taken of someone else.
She was a very stubborn individual, but also beloved and respected by all who knew her.
She lived until two months' shy of her 91st birthday, having become a great-great-grandmother a few months prior. She now rests with my grandfather on top of a mountain in Boone County, West Virginia.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Ruby Lewallen Harris, daughter of Filetus "F.L." Lewallen and Malinda Jane Blankenship Lewallen, was born in Newcomb, near Elk Valley, Campbell County, Tennessee, on August 17, 1908. She was the youngest of four children.
On April 13, 1929, in Coxton, Harlan County, Kentucky, she was united in marriage to Mont Washington Harris, son of John Smith Harris and Mary Eliza Frazier Harris of Lincoln County, Kentucky.
Around 1937, she and her husband and four children moved to Boone County, West Virginia, where the family eventually grew to a total of nine children.
Her husband, having spent most of his adult life working in the coal mines, passed away at the early age of 50 on February 22, 1953, in the 24th year of their marriage. She remained a widow for 46 years.
Highly regarded and respected by all those who knew her, many in the community affectionately referred to her as "Miss Harris."
She was pre-deceased by her sister Bertha Lay around 1921, her brother Lewis Lewallen in 1973, and her sister Ada Brown in 1992. She was also pre-deceased by her son Odell Harris in 1969, her daughter Christine Carter in 1996, her granddaughter Lesa Gay Harris in 1971, and her granddaughter Myra Kay Harris in 1997.
She leaves to mourn her loss: five sons: Cardell Harris of Letart, WV, Eudell Harris of Barrett, WV, Bredell Harris of Pen Argyl, PA, Mondell Harris of Barrett, WV, and Credell Harris of Barrett, WV; two daughters: Irene Smith of Midlothian, VA, and Sonja Harris of Bim, WV; fifteen grandchildren, eighteen great-grandchildren; one great-great-granddaughter; several sons- and daughters-in law; numerous nieces and nephews; and many other relatives and friends.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
A BRIEF MEMORIAL-BIO OF RUBY, WRITTEN BY HER GRANDSON JOHN CARTER:
My maternal grandmother was born Ruby Lewallen in Newcomb, Campbell County, Tennessee on 17 Aug 1908. Coming from a poor, coal-mining community, she never learned to read or write, or to drive a car. Being one of four children, her parents had separated by the time she was a young woman, her father having been an alcoholic and at least verbally abusive. (Once when my grandmother was having a disagreement of some sort with her father, he told her "I wish you'd never been born.")
She became Ruby Harris when she married my grandfather Mont Washington Harris at age 20 on 13 Apr 1929 just over the border in Harlan County, Kentucky. She and my grandfather had nine children, of which my mother and her twin sister were the eldest. Around 1937, between their 4th and 5th child, the family moved to a very small town in rural Boone County, West Virginia, another coal-mining community. The family home did not even have a bathroom until my grandfather added one onto the house as the children got a little older.
Their children comprised six boys and three girls, with four of the boys (and the husband of one of the daughters) (and the wife of one of the sons) working for the coal mines as well. Life in the early years in West Virginia was tough, but became even tougher in 1953 when my grandfather passed away from a combination of black lung and Addison's Disease. At the time, the children's ages ranged between 22 down to 4. None of the older siblings finished high school, needing to work instead. With Ruby herself not having any skills other than how to maintain a household, and with being illiterate and having no means of transportation, (and, at age 44, being too young for Social Security), she began doing laundry and ironing for other families in the neighborhood to earn what little money she could. (She did end up getting a very small pension of some sort "from the mines" due to my grandfather's death).
As the years went by, my mother moved away—first to the "big city" of Charleston (the capital of WV) where she roomed with a cousin, and later responding to a call for glass plant workers in southern New Jersey, where she met and married my father. Within a year (after a brief stint in Dover, Delaware, where I was born in 1958) they moved away to California, where my dad had been stationed while in the service. But through much of the 1960s up until around 1971, my mom, younger brother and I would spend summers at "Mawmaw" Ruby's in West Virginia, where I got to witness first-hand the values and work ethic of my grandmother. Life had forged her into a tough, hard woman, but one who still had a soft heart. Her very essence garnered respect, with everyone in the small, tight-knit community referring to her as "Miss Harris" (even though she was a "Mrs."), probably because many of the younger generation had only known her as a single widow. She was married for just under 24 years, but lived as a widow for another 43 years after my grandfather's passing.
She was without a doubt the most frugal person I've ever known, often getting her eggs from one store, her milk from another, and her bread from somewhere else, just because they each might be a couple of cents cheaper at one store or the other. Although there were a couple of old-time "general stores" within walking distance, some purchases required one of her children to drive her to the desired place for shopping, or, as she called it, where she did her "tradin'." As a youngster I once saw her take a live chicken and "ring its neck" on her back porch and de-feather it afterward in preparation for a meal. Her homemade biscuits, fried beans (and anything else she'd make) were fantastic. Once when I had a stomach ache (from eating too many green apples from one or her several apple trees), she went out to the bank of the river in front of her house and gathered peppermint or spearmint to make a tea for me to drink. During summers my brother and I always loved catching fireflies (or, as we called them, "lightning bugs") in her yard, and putting them in empty blue glass Noxema or Vicks jars.
Most Sundays (in the summertime) after church (which was right next door to her house, my grandfather having donated the land for the church building), she would walk up to the "graveyard" on top of a nearby smallish mountain where my grandfather was buried, my mom and brother and I accompanying her. I believe these cemetery visits (and showing respect for those who had passed on) instilled my early interest in what would eventually become my obsession with genealogy (since I earnestly began my lifelong genealogy pursuit when I was 15).
She also had several wind-up clocks in her home, with each of my uncles who'd served in the military having brought her a cuckoo clock from Germany, or a mantle clock from somewhere else, and so on. Her youngest son had also bought her a grandfather clock. Being in her home and observing all of her clocks was thus the genesis for my decades-long interest in clock collecting as well.
She was notorious for hating to have her photograph taken (another trait of hers that I share!) and for that reason only a few photos exist of her, even though she lived until 1999. Once when my mother had acquired a brand-new camera in the late 1950s or early 1960s, she snapped a photo of Mawmaw Ruby against her wishes. Later, when my mother left the camera unattended, Mawmaw opened the camera, unrolled the film and exposed it to sunlight, rolled it up and put it back in the camera. When my mother had the film developed and all of the photos were blank, she returned the camera, deeming it "broken." Mawmaw didn't tell her until much later what she had done to the film. Years later one of my cousins also made the mistake of snapping a photo of our grandmother without permission and promptly had a shoe thrown at her! There exists only one single "posed" photo of Mawmaw Ruby from her entire life, taken in one of the photographic studios at Sears or JC Penneys or somewhere similar, later in life, when she was perhaps in her 80s. [Photo is posted here, on her FindAGrave memorial]. Somehow her youngest son (who always had better luck in getting her to do things) convinced her to do it, and the rest of the family to this day is still amazed that he was able to get her to pose for the photo. The four or five other photos that exist of her are ones in which she was "accidentally" captured in the margin of a photo being taken of someone else.
She was a very stubborn individual, but also beloved and respected by all who knew her.
She lived until two months' shy of her 91st birthday, having become a great-great-grandmother a few months prior. She now rests with my grandfather on top of a mountain in Boone County, West Virginia.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Gravesite Details
(Note: The white-colored headstone, with no death date for Ruby, is the original headstone that was placed shortly after her husband Mont passed. After the placement of this headstone, when she ordered her birth certificate for the first time [need
Family Members
Parents
