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Mary Sue (Snow) Vaughn, my grannie, was born November 13, 1893 at Wayton, Arkansas to Jasper Law Snow and Mary Eveline (Youngblood) Snow. She married William 'Will' Nelson Vaughn on January 11, 1912. Together they had seven children, Lawrence, Columbus (Dood), Joe, Gracie, Mina, Fern and Lynzo (Doc).

Grannie loved to tell stories of mischief on her kids and grandkids, but her favorite was to tell 'haint' tales that would make your hair stand on end. These stories of 'boogers' and 'spooks' left many a grandchild with a healthy fear of the dark and things that go bump in the night.

She always had a cat or two around. And she tolerated gramps' beagles, hiding from him the fact that she would slip them table scraps while on her way to the chicken pen to feed those said scraps to the chickens. The chickens usually got the vegetable parts and smaller scraps from her dining table. The 'hated' beagles got the meat scraps, bones and chunks of uneaten, older home-made cornbread or biscuit.

She loved the flowers in her yard. She planted Snow ball bushes, Peonies, Cannas, Jack Beans to vine on the big front porch and a line of Jonquils down each side of the front walk way.

In 1956 she clipped a small sprig from an ornamental cedar growing on the courthouse square in Harrison, brought it home, stuck it in the ground and IT GREW!! As of this date, June 2007, the bush covers a spot the size of a large pick up truck and is still thriving in what used to be her front yard.

In the days before there were plastic or silk flowers, grannie would sit for days cutting different colors of crepe paper, folding the pieces and making flowers for the decoration day on the first Sunday of June for the Snow Cemetery. There were also folks buried at other cemeteries in the county that she would takd flowers to. She would patiently show a grandchild, me for one, how to fold the paper just so, then gently pull apart the layers to make the prettiest flowers. The only bad thing was that after the first rain after decoration, there would just be a sick there with a wad of colored blob on it. She would also cut bunches of roses from the vines that trailed along the west side of her yard and take them to the graves in covered tin cans filled with water. I usually got scolded for licking the crepe paper, it had a slightly bitter taste to it and I loved the fact that it turned your tongue beautiful colors. Grannie would scold me in one breath and the next she was showing me how to 'color' my lips red with a small piece of the crinklie crepe paper.

It was these kinds of flowers that grannie would place on her relatives, parents and younger sister's graves. One grave that she tended with special care was that of her fourth child, her baby girl, Gracie. Gracie died from spinalminingitis when she was just two years and seventeen days old. Grannie never completely got over the heartache of losing her golden haired baby. A lock of Gracie's hair was kept in and is still in the Snow Family Bible.

Grannie loved to get a good joke on someone or scare the living daylights out of an unsuspectiing victim. She would laugh 'til she couldn't breathe. She had a wonderful sense of humor, twisted sometimes but a good one.

After breaking her hip in the late sixties, her health steadily declined. She was never able to enjoy her yard and flowers as she had when she could be up and about.

During a stay in the hospital she passed away on April 2, 1970. She was buried in the Snow Cemetery at Wayton, Arkansas. The same cemetery that was started by her paternal grandfather, Wiley Snow.

My grannie Vaughn was one of a kind, a strong-willed, independent woman, born years before her time.

I loveyou, grannie, I miss you.. xox

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╔╗╔╗╔╗╔═╦ ♥. .☆.......•*¨'*•

╠╣║║║╦╠═║✫ (¯''•.¸ //(*_*) ¸.•'´¯)

╝╚╩║╚╝╚═╚═╝❤✫ƸӜƷ *'• .…* * *.•

.•*"˜˜"*°•. ˜"*°•♥•°*"˜ .•°*"˜˜"*°•.

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Little did we know that day

that our Lord would call your name.

In life we loved you dearly,

in death we do the same.

It broke our hearts to lose you,

though you did not go alone,

for part of us went with you

the day God called you home.

Our family chain is broken

and nothing seems the same

but as God calls us one by one

the chain will link again

~author unknown

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Sunshine fades and shadows fall,

But memories of you outlast them all.

Unseen, unheard, you're always near,

Still loved, still missed, still very dear.

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Grannie, a few days ago I got an email confirming my membership in the Mayflower Society.

I know you must be so tickled with this. I wish you were here to share it with me but I know you approve 100%. We are descendants of Stephen Hopkins, he came over on the Mayflower in 1620 and brought his family with him, daughter Constance with him, she was 14 at the time. Nicholas Snow came to Plymouth on July 10, 1623 on the ship Ann. By 1627 he had married Constance Hopkins .

This is your lineage back to Stephen Hopkins...

Mary Sue Snow ~ William Nelson Vaughn

Jasper Law Snow ~ Mary Evelyn Youngblood

Wiley Snow ~ Catherine Scott

William C Snow ~ Mahala Braswell

Ebenezer Snow ~ Sarah Wicker

William B Snow ~ Martha Elizabeth Clift

Isaac Snow ~ Alice name unknown

John Snow ~ Mary Smalley

Constance Hopkins ~ Nicholas Snow

Stephen Hopkins ~ Elizabeth Fisher

Stephen is your 7 times gr grpa

now how cool is that?

loveyou, grannie xox

Since some of you are commenting on that white hair and since these kids mother was Virgie Snow, here is where that name came from:

Snow is an English and Anglo-Saxon last name that originated as a nickname for a person who had a very pale complexion or very white/blonde hair. The Old English word snaw, meaning snow, is the root of the name. The surname Snow was first found in Rutland, England, where they held a family seat from very ancient times, some say before the Norman Conquest in 1063.

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╚╗╔╝

╔╝(¯'v´¯)

╚══'My Grannie

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03.02.2024

"Two Ladies"

They sit upon their shaded porch,

A respite from the day, 

Living history under eaves, 

There sitting on display. 

They looked out on the fields and trees, 

The land that held their soul, 

Two ladies resting from their work, 

The young of long ago. 

Their apron stained with this and that, 

Their gray heads both held high, 

Memories of a hundred years 

Relived there in their eyes. 

The wrinkled hands that held the plow 

In furrows long and straight, 

Are hands that cooled a fevered brow 

And filled a supper plate. 

The lines of life are etched on them, 

Their lives about complete, 

Two ladies rest there in the shade, 

A respite from the heat. 

Their cradles rocked so long ago, 

To tunes we'll never know, 

Two ladies rest upon the porch, 

The young of long ago."  

~ Linda Lee

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