Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Adeline Francis Bradds

Recollections by Ruth Morris Blimes
Grandma Morris was the sweetest, kindest person I ever knew. I don't ever remember her saying an unkind word about anyone. I don't think I ever saw her lose her temper. She had that sweet Virginia drawl all of her life and it tickled us to hear her talk. She used to come up to our house to visit and we only had two bedrooms then, so she had to sleep in my twin bed with me. She always made me say my prayers before I went to sleep and we would lie and talk about things in general. I don't remember what we talked about, but I have fond memories of those times. She used to clean out the icebox (we didn't have an electric fridge then,) and she would make a stew out of all the leftovers. It was awful, but we were forced to eat some of it because she said it was a sin to waste good food. I can still see her wending her way up to the barn. I think she did some of the milking, but her main job was in the milk house behind the house. She ran the cream separator and they sold part of the cream. She would wash all the milk buckets and the equipment needed to get the milk ready to sell. She had a hugh fenced in garden where she planted many kinds of vegetables. When you walked out of the back door, it was just across the yard. I remember she had gooseberry bushes growing along the fence and how I delighted to raid them when the gooseberries were half ripe. There was a persimmon tree up over the bank as you started up to the barn. I don't remember ever eating any of them. They weren't good until it frosted and by then we didn't go down as much. I also remember one time all the grandkids were there and we went out past the milkhouse to a hugh sycamore tree and climbed around on the lower limbs. I don't know whose idea it was to starting yelling and screaming, but we did and it was a lot of fun. What was not so funny was the paddlings Bob and I got for scaring our parents. We were the only ones who got paddled. Family reunions were a lot of fun. More food than we could ever eat and more people than you can shake a stick at. Those were good times.

Obituary of Adeline Francis Bradds
"I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the good faith. Henceforth, there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness."

Mrs. Addie Frances Morris, the daughter of John and Margaret Bradds, was born in Rockbridge County, Virginia, on October 18, 1867. She departed this life June 27, 1946, at her farm home near Athens, Ohio, at the age of 78 years, 8 months and 9 days. She married Remus Clark Morris in February, 1888, and to this union was born eight children, four daughters and four sons. Her husband and an infant son, John, having preceded her in death, the surviving children are: Nell Porter, New York City; Edith Short, Marietta; Pearl Morris, Athens #3; Helen May, Los Angeles, California; Roy Morris, Nelsonville; Clarence Morris, at home; and Carl Morris, Athens #3; fifteen grandchildren, four great-grandchildren, and a host of other relatives and friends. She was converted at the age of twelve and lived a faithful and consistent Christian life until her death. Her beautiful life and character will stand out as a memorial to her children and all who came in contact with her. She was always ready with a helping hand and words of sympathy for those in trouble and distress. She was loved by all who knew her and made friends wherever she went. No word can express what she meant to her children, who were ever ready to care for and cheer her declining years. She will be greatly missed, but our loss will be Heaven's Eternal gain.

As her spirit left her body, she opened her eyes, looking straight beyond. What she saw there filled her with joy and satisfied her, for a sweet smile come over her face. And those who had cared for her so faithfully during her long illness, declared they had never seen a sweeter, more peaceful look on any face. She had beheld Heaven's glory. Shad made the crossing.

Sunset and Evening Star
And one clear call for me,
And may there be no moaning at the bar
When I put out to sea.

But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound or foam
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.

The True Story of the birth of Adeline Francis Bradds
(Contrary to the above obituary, Addie was not the daughter of John and Margaret. Her mother, Margaret Bradds, never married, Handed down from the Bradds family, the tradition says that Frank Bennington was her father. The Bradds farm and the Bennington farm were adjoining according to the 1850 Rockbridge Co. Census.)

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