❤❤ My Little Uncle ❤❤
"Little boys leave smudges on your heart." ~ Art Moms, LLC (verse on one of their greeting cards)
John D was the seventh child of eight in a large, loving family; the second of two sons. He was referred to as John D with no period after the initial and never as John. He had been a much anticipated son within a family of five girls and one boy. Nineteen months later an eighth and final child, another girl, would complete the Stallings' children.
He adored his older brother (my father), Duval, and always wanted to tag along with him. In Daddy's eyes, Uncle John D was a cherished, mischievous little boy who could practically do no wrong, no matter what the prank or circumstance.
Shortly after the marriage of my grandfather to Lydia Melton, Uncle John D and several older boys jumped aboard a moving milk wagon. He fell and one of the wheels rolled over one leg, breaking it in several places. Though the leg was set as soon as the doctor was able to arrive, gangrene rapidly took over the puncture wounds. Penicillin wasn't discovered until 1928 and not put into medical use until the 1940s. Uncle John D succumbed to the infection that spread into his bloodstream at the newly opened St Francis Sanitarium and Training School for Nurses - now St Francis Medical Hospital - in Monroe, Louisiana. He was nine years, three months and 3 days old.
My father and aunts never forgave Mrs Melton (she was not called Miss Lydia or Mrs Stallings by family and friends - always Mrs Melton), for they felt that had she been properly caring for him, the accident would not have happened. She had a tendency of "having the vapors," as she would refer to times of taking many long daytime naps, and lay upon the settee in the darkened parlor for most of the day, oblivious to the activities of her own son from a previous marriage and the Stallings' siblings.
The few photos that my father had of his beloved little John D were destroyed in a devastating fire of our home when I was five years old.
In loving memory of my little Uncle John D and Daddy: "There is no love like the love for a brother. There is no love like the love from a brother." ~ Astrid Alauda
Many thanks to Ron for the transferal of Uncle John D's memorial. ❤
Many thanks to Michael for sponsoring my little uncle. ❤
"Little boys leave smudges on your heart." ~ Art Moms, LLC (verse on one of their greeting cards)
John D was the seventh child of eight in a large, loving family; the second of two sons. He was referred to as John D with no period after the initial and never as John. He had been a much anticipated son within a family of five girls and one boy. Nineteen months later an eighth and final child, another girl, would complete the Stallings' children.
He adored his older brother (my father), Duval, and always wanted to tag along with him. In Daddy's eyes, Uncle John D was a cherished, mischievous little boy who could practically do no wrong, no matter what the prank or circumstance.
Shortly after the marriage of my grandfather to Lydia Melton, Uncle John D and several older boys jumped aboard a moving milk wagon. He fell and one of the wheels rolled over one leg, breaking it in several places. Though the leg was set as soon as the doctor was able to arrive, gangrene rapidly took over the puncture wounds. Penicillin wasn't discovered until 1928 and not put into medical use until the 1940s. Uncle John D succumbed to the infection that spread into his bloodstream at the newly opened St Francis Sanitarium and Training School for Nurses - now St Francis Medical Hospital - in Monroe, Louisiana. He was nine years, three months and 3 days old.
My father and aunts never forgave Mrs Melton (she was not called Miss Lydia or Mrs Stallings by family and friends - always Mrs Melton), for they felt that had she been properly caring for him, the accident would not have happened. She had a tendency of "having the vapors," as she would refer to times of taking many long daytime naps, and lay upon the settee in the darkened parlor for most of the day, oblivious to the activities of her own son from a previous marriage and the Stallings' siblings.
The few photos that my father had of his beloved little John D were destroyed in a devastating fire of our home when I was five years old.
In loving memory of my little Uncle John D and Daddy: "There is no love like the love for a brother. There is no love like the love from a brother." ~ Astrid Alauda
Many thanks to Ron for the transferal of Uncle John D's memorial. ❤
Many thanks to Michael for sponsoring my little uncle. ❤
❤❤ My Little Uncle ❤❤
"Little boys leave smudges on your heart." ~ Art Moms, LLC (verse on one of their greeting cards)
John D was the seventh child of eight in a large, loving family; the second of two sons. He was referred to as John D with no period after the initial and never as John. He had been a much anticipated son within a family of five girls and one boy. Nineteen months later an eighth and final child, another girl, would complete the Stallings' children.
He adored his older brother (my father), Duval, and always wanted to tag along with him. In Daddy's eyes, Uncle John D was a cherished, mischievous little boy who could practically do no wrong, no matter what the prank or circumstance.
Shortly after the marriage of my grandfather to Lydia Melton, Uncle John D and several older boys jumped aboard a moving milk wagon. He fell and one of the wheels rolled over one leg, breaking it in several places. Though the leg was set as soon as the doctor was able to arrive, gangrene rapidly took over the puncture wounds. Penicillin wasn't discovered until 1928 and not put into medical use until the 1940s. Uncle John D succumbed to the infection that spread into his bloodstream at the newly opened St Francis Sanitarium and Training School for Nurses - now St Francis Medical Hospital - in Monroe, Louisiana. He was nine years, three months and 3 days old.
My father and aunts never forgave Mrs Melton (she was not called Miss Lydia or Mrs Stallings by family and friends - always Mrs Melton), for they felt that had she been properly caring for him, the accident would not have happened. She had a tendency of "having the vapors," as she would refer to times of taking many long daytime naps, and lay upon the settee in the darkened parlor for most of the day, oblivious to the activities of her own son from a previous marriage and the Stallings' siblings.
The few photos that my father had of his beloved little John D were destroyed in a devastating fire of our home when I was five years old.
In loving memory of my little Uncle John D and Daddy: "There is no love like the love for a brother. There is no love like the love from a brother." ~ Astrid Alauda
Many thanks to Ron for the transferal of Uncle John D's memorial. ❤
Many thanks to Michael for sponsoring my little uncle. ❤
"Little boys leave smudges on your heart." ~ Art Moms, LLC (verse on one of their greeting cards)
John D was the seventh child of eight in a large, loving family; the second of two sons. He was referred to as John D with no period after the initial and never as John. He had been a much anticipated son within a family of five girls and one boy. Nineteen months later an eighth and final child, another girl, would complete the Stallings' children.
He adored his older brother (my father), Duval, and always wanted to tag along with him. In Daddy's eyes, Uncle John D was a cherished, mischievous little boy who could practically do no wrong, no matter what the prank or circumstance.
Shortly after the marriage of my grandfather to Lydia Melton, Uncle John D and several older boys jumped aboard a moving milk wagon. He fell and one of the wheels rolled over one leg, breaking it in several places. Though the leg was set as soon as the doctor was able to arrive, gangrene rapidly took over the puncture wounds. Penicillin wasn't discovered until 1928 and not put into medical use until the 1940s. Uncle John D succumbed to the infection that spread into his bloodstream at the newly opened St Francis Sanitarium and Training School for Nurses - now St Francis Medical Hospital - in Monroe, Louisiana. He was nine years, three months and 3 days old.
My father and aunts never forgave Mrs Melton (she was not called Miss Lydia or Mrs Stallings by family and friends - always Mrs Melton), for they felt that had she been properly caring for him, the accident would not have happened. She had a tendency of "having the vapors," as she would refer to times of taking many long daytime naps, and lay upon the settee in the darkened parlor for most of the day, oblivious to the activities of her own son from a previous marriage and the Stallings' siblings.
The few photos that my father had of his beloved little John D were destroyed in a devastating fire of our home when I was five years old.
In loving memory of my little Uncle John D and Daddy: "There is no love like the love for a brother. There is no love like the love from a brother." ~ Astrid Alauda
Many thanks to Ron for the transferal of Uncle John D's memorial. ❤
Many thanks to Michael for sponsoring my little uncle. ❤
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