HAPPY HALLOWEEN!! heh heh

TRICK OR TREAT

SUNDAY FUNNIES!! MAD#16's SHERLOCK SHOLMES

Story by editor Harvey Kurtzman. Art Will Elder

Spiderweb

Spiderwebb at the top of the stairs on our deck. Its plans to snatch me and have a feasr.

Halloween Night 1963

From my facebook post years ago:

Jim with Dr. Jonathan Swift who saved his life 52 years ago in the Atherton Drugstore explosion in Marietta, Ga The Atherton Explosion brought the best and and maybe the worse of people. Jim Lamer was there and was knocked down. That night he was to be the best man at Gresham Howren's wedding. In his pocket was the engagement ring for his fiance. It was missing after the fiasco. It is believed that probably somebody thought Jim was dead and took the ring.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Bobby and Jimmy Crain Saw a Dead Man in a truck

My cousin Bobby Crain, taken over 30 years ago at a Hunter Reunion. I saw him at our cousin Alice Hunter Sternagle's funeral last week and he hasn't changed at all. I think he got his gray hair early in life and kept it. At the funeral he told me how he and his late brother Jimmy found a body when they were going fishing in their early teens. The body they found had shot himself in the head. There was no face left - except teeth.

William Trammell, Revolutionary War Warrior Tombstone', Franklin, North Carolina

This is the tombstone of William Thomas Trammell (1752-1843), my g-g-g grandfather. Here is the narrow short version of William’s life: He was born in Fairfax, Virginia, of Daniel and Elizabeth Parr Scott Trammell. He was the oldest of 13 children. He spent his formative years in the 96th District of South Carolina. He and his several brothers fought side by side in the Revolutionary War with the Mountain Boys Regiement. During the Battle of Kings Mountain, NC, in hand to hand combat, his arm was sliced off. He first married Mary Lynch, and they had 4 children. It is believed that Mary was possibly Native American. Mary was married with children previously. Also, it is unsure why she suddenly was out of the picture. In his elderly and sickly age he married Sarah Raynold, age under 20 to take care of him. After his penchant came she took it and did not return. His son Jacob Trammell cared for him then. Back to the picture of William’s tombstone in the First Methodist Graveyard in Franklin, North Carolina. Based on Jacob Trammell’s residence I thought William was probably buried in Macon County, near Franklin, North Carolina. I looked on all burial records online in Macon County and could not find it. My genealogical buddy in Franklin, N.C. the late Thelma Swanson, I told her my dilemma of finding William’s grave and she said she would look around. Thelma was very gun-ho genealogy hunter. She is not related to William, he is on the Hunter Trammell side and she was on the Hunter Ray side. In a couple of weeks she called me and told me she thought she found his grave. I took my two sons Rocky and Adam with me to North Carolina and went to Thelma’s duplex. She lived on one side and her sister lived on the other. We all got into my car and we drove to the Church. When we parked, we saw the cemetery. It was just beyond the parking lot. She pointed to the grave she thought it was. We walked up to it and saw that the over 150 year old strone has been weathered. You could hardly read any of the letters. I got the idea of rubbing it. I suggested we go to K-Mart, buy some etching paper and crayons and rub the stone. We went to K-Mart and bought what we needed. Across the street from K-Mart was a Burger King. We had lunch. Arriving back at the cemetery about one hour after we left we drove into the parking lot. We saw an amazing sight.. William Trammell’s grave was under a big tree which produced a shade. But with sun lights shooting beams through the limbs it was cause the tombstone, that one alone, glowing in the shade. It reminded me of the first Indiana Jones movie with the sunbeam. Every letter was readable. Hoorah. Thelma took us to a few more cemeteries and houses and farms that our ancestors lived on/in and worked. We also go to meet a 90 year old bachelor descendant of John and Nancy Ray (our ancestors) who still lived on their farm. Since then he had died and the house had burned down. I was amazed at her age how could she could take such giant steps. We had to huff and puff to keep up with her. Thelma died about a year later.

Is THE HEADLESS HORSEMAN a Relative?

The LEGAND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW is the tale of school master Ichabod Crane fighting with the Headless Horseman, in and about the church’s graveyard., written by Washington Irving (1783-1859), the same who gave us RIP VAN WRINKLE. My claim to fame: Doing family research one never knows what one will come across to do with one’s family. My ancestor Joseph Bookout (1701 – 1806) (I know, it say he lived 105 years) was born in Holland and died in Randolph County, North Carolina. He arrived in America with two brothers. What ever became of James is unknown. But his brother John went to up state New York. Thus, we have this: "The Legend Of Sleepy Hollow" (the Headless Horseman) started in the cemetary at the Dutch Reform Church, Tarrytown, New York (near the Hudson River. John BOOKHOUT or his son was serving on the Board of Elders when the legend was born. Later Washington Irvin made the legend into a published story.

Registering to Vote Back In the Day

This is a blog I made years ago copied & pasted. Throwback to Thursday, Registering to Vote. The election ads season is here. Of course election means voting. But before one votes one has to register, so here we go. When I turned 18 I went to the Old Cobb County Courthouse to register to vote. I went to the voters registration office at the Old Courthouse. In the hallway was a drinking fountain with a WHITE ONLY sign. Near it was a WHITE MEN restroom and a WHITE LADIES restroom The “COLORED” restroom and water fountain was in the basement somewhere. In the Voter Registration Office I told the kindly elderly gentleman there I wanted to register to vote and he gave me the form to fill out, which I did. Then he told me you had to be able to pass the literacy test to qualify to vote. He handed me a sheet of paper and told me to read aloud what was on lit. It was Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address. I started: “Four Scores and Seven Years Ago…” He said, “You passed.” I said I had just started. He said that I correctly pronounced the key word, I did not say “Foe” instead of Four and gave me a knowingly smile. The polite jovial old man went on to say if the pronunciation requirement was strictly enforced, “no telling who “THEY” would vote for.” I knew that was just wrong. But I did not dare say so because I have a slight well-hidden-most-the-time speech impediment and he might have had me read the rest of The Gettysburg Address. I bet the old fart was spinning in his grave January 20, 2009.

You Are "It"!

Yesterday we met Adam, Savvy, and Savvy’s family at a Vietnam Restaurant in Smyrna. We enjoyed the company and the food. The restaurant is in the corner of what was Belmont Hills Shopping Center parking lot. I think we ate in the same room before, several years ago, then it was a European Restaurant. Then the room was much bigger with more murals on the wall, and I think the ceiling was even higher. We arrived 20 minutes too early. It probably would have been about 60 minutes too early if we didn’t get tied up in several bumper to bumper traffic snarls in downtown Marietta. That is why we always leave early. So, there we were with about 20 minutes to kill. We sat in the car and watched people pass by. Two men walking on the sidewalk got my attention. One was short and stout and the other one was tall and slim. They looked European. I did not see them smile or speak. They looked like they were on a mission. They walked into each eating and drinking establishments and leave. At one eatery, apparently they had a party going on on top of the building. People kept coming and going on the outside stairs. The two men I was keeping my eyes on also checked the top of the building. Whoever they were looking for apparently wasn’t there. I think they kept on checking places out of my view. Of course I don’t know, but they looked like two muscle men of a Godfather, of sorts, looking for one of their boss’s “customers” who might be in debt to him. Either that or maybe they were “Hide & Seek, Adult Style.”

Lloyd Cox, High School Principal. Ll as in B. Lloyds

Post 5 Years Ago: I just read in the paper that our teacher and high school principal Lloyd Cox died on Friday, the 6th, at age 97. He was a very likeable principal, even if he was on to us. Here is a couple of quotes I remember (he was full of memorable quotes): "Do you smoke Eddie?" '"Yes." Bending over in my face: "Aren't you afraid you will burn your fingers?" He called three of us to his office and lined us up, then suddenly whipped a Poo-Poo Cushion out from behind him, squeezed it and it made a farting sound. (Coach Lundy confiscated it from us in the period before). All three of us broke out laughing. "What is so funny about that?" The picture was taken at a Good Old Boys (GOBAG) meeting on the day he turned 91, if I remember correctly.

New Bad Word.

Efing. As in I'm going to beat the efing shit out of you.

SUNDAY FUNNIES!! MAD's #15. CAPTAIN VIDO

Story by Harvey Kurtsman, Art by Jack Davis.

Bro

I like wise-ass cracks, especially when it comes unexpectedly. Yesterday Anna was on the phone ordering something. I think she wanted to talk to a human, to give her some sort of guidance on ordering something she didn’t know that well. The human she talked to was a young hip young man, not without wit. As they discussed the type of product occasionally, I would throw in my 2 cents. They came to an agreement and Anna said something like “Go ahead and send it.” The young man: “You Sure you are OK with that?” Yep. “What about “Bro” over there?” Being usually invisible when someone recognizes my presence even though he couldn’t see me, I cackled.

7th Grade Class at Waterman Street School, Marietta, Ga

This is the 7th Grade, 1949-50 Class at Waterman Street School Marietta, Ga; my sister Frances' Class. I am also including the back of it because it has the names.

whoopee! Saved!

At Krogers today I was next in the cashier’s line. In front of me being taken care of was a young man, probably in his early 20s watching item per item the cashier did her job. He had a big assortment of mostly junk food. Then another young man broke in front of me and said “Excuse me!” He had an armload of more junk food that he dumped on the pile of unchecked-in goodies. The newer person ripped open a pack of cookies and asked me did I want a cookie. “No thanks.” I said. He bit into one and said they have chocolate chips and nuts, and said “MMMM!” His partner was still following the cashier’s movements, ring by ring. I figured they were college students, setting up housekeeping together, and pinching pennies. Also, they reminded me of the move/TV series “THE ODD COUPLE”. Then the one that spoke to me ripped open a bag of potato chips and held them out to me. I shook my head. He asked what kind of potato chips” do you like?” As I was digging deep in my mind to think of a brand name of potato chips that would be witty and shocking, but the only thing I could think of was VooDoo chips, the cashier on the next aisle told me she was caught up, I could bring my stuff over to her. Whoopee! Saved!

Bob Bettis Children

Copied and Pasted from my facebook post 5 years ago:

These are Bob and Ida Lavonia Prance Bettis's four sons. Bob and Ida had ten children, 6 boys and 4 girls. The four oldest children were boys, and I think these were probably the only kids at the time of the picture was taken, which I estimate to be 1906. The first daughter was born in 1907, after when I believe this picture was taken. Based on that, from left to right: James Toliver Cecil Bettis (1900-1969), Reuel Andrew Bettis (1901-1968), Herschel Raymond Bettis (1903-1987), and Isaac Landrum Bettis (1898-1975).

Broken Arms Memories remembered over and over

Facebook Post 2 years ago: My facebook friend Judy broke her arm while vacuuming. Of course, I had to tell her about my broken arm: Judy, I’m so sorry. It is never pleasant to have to deal with a broken limb. I broke my arm in my preteens at a wresting match. I think there were to be 3 bouts and the 3rd one of the contenders was either a gorilla or a bear. I wanted to see it so Daddy took me to Larry Bell Park, where they hold such events in Marietta. . Daddy hung out at the concession counter talking to someone he knew. A found a friend and we sat together and near a cute little girl sitting with her parents. The little girl kept her eyes on us and giggled as we showed off. I thought I would really impress her when I did a spectacular leap from the top of the bleachers to about 4 rows down. My plan did not work, I tumbled and broke my left arm. My arm was bent. I was in pain. My covered my arm with my light jacket and found daddy hanging out at the concession stand talking to Elizabeth Sullivan, a family friend. I told him I didn;t feel good, I wanted to go home. Being a cop he said what's wrong wih your arm? You have it covered? He yanked the jacked off my arm, which make me grunt painfully and saw what I hiding. Daddy took me to the new Kennestone Hospital. The medical people gave me ether, I think, and set my arm with a cast. I had to stay overnight and they were not organized yet. I wasn’t a toddler or an adult. They put me in a very young kids ward. Kids crying. I deserved that for showing off like a fool.

Crows, Social Birds

Weeks ago on facebook I read that a friend/distant relative mentioned something about Crows have funerals. My first thought was “Really?” That has been on min off and on since. Yesterday I did some mini on-line research. Aside the standard joke of all the attendees were appropriately dressed in black at he funeral, here are some findings or conclusions of some people who actually watched crows looking at the deceased crow and the visitation. Some how observed the live crows studying very seriously the dead body. Why? To see why their fellow crow died. They performed something similar to an autopsy. They probably wanted to know why the bird died so they could prevent repeating the same mistake. Cannibalism. It appeared some ate their dead friend. I guess it just depends on how hungry they were during visitation hours. Last but not least Necrophilia. It appeared some of the live birds “took advantage of their fallen friend. Crows pair up life. I suppose a live crow would be afraid word (or squawks) would get around if he tried to get over aggressive. Dead Crows tell no tells.

Retired Postal Workers

Posted on Facebook 8 years ago.

No mail today! Herman Wrigley and Tony Brown are having breakfast at Crackle Barrel in this picture. They are retired Postal workers*. To them, every day is a holiday! *Notice there are 3 coffee mugs on the table - the missing retired postal worker is taking the picture.

SUNDAY FUNNIES!! King Kong, final

Click on picture to enlarge

in MAD Mag, by Jack Davis

Museums and Outhouses Near Cartersville

Today I was in a comic book shop. I overheard the owner and a customer talk about the museums in Cartersville: The Tellus Museum and the Booth Western Museum. The comic book shop owner said his dad lived across the street from the man who built both the Booth and Tellus Museums. But he died and his father found him. I butted in and asked did he live in Cartersville. He said no, he lived in White, Georgia. I jumped into the conversation I told him when I think of White, Georgia, I think of the time we went hunting Christmas morning before daylight. (stop me if you heard this story). It was about 1959 or 60. The plan was for two of us to ride on the hood on the old country roads nearby. and when our headlights paralyze a rabbit or deer or something we would shoot. We had no luck and headed for home. Near downtoen White Georgia we had a flat and had no spare. We sat in the car and try to get some sleep. As daylight came in we saw we were parked in front of a country home on a bank over the road. I said, “Look! They have an outhouse up above the house!” Larry, the driver, said he was going to use that outhouse. Larry loved to take dumps in outhouses. As he got out of the car we tried to talk him out of it. He ignored us and climbed the hill beside their house and climb the other small hill to the outhouse, went in and shut the door. The rest of us sat in the car and talked sharing the latest gossip and so on. Then I saw a little old lady in a house coat and holding a newspaper walk towards the outhouse. We were rolling in giggles. We were speechless. The little old lady opened the outhouse door and was about to step in when she looked up and dropped her newspaper. Out sprung Larry trying to pullup his pants with one hand and scratching his forehead with the other. When Larry was embarrassed he always scratched his forehead to hide his face. He jumped into the car, turned on the motor and fled away, with a flat. Lucky enough a service station was just down the road, who eventually saved the day, but that is another long story.

Rocky, inspired moment, Years Ago

Our son Rocky, years ago. It looks like he was having an inspired moment.

Aunt Lilly Henry Petty (1886-1983

Lilly Henry Petty (1886-1983), c1982. Lilly Henry married James M. "Jim" Petty (1882-1956), 21 May 1903, in Murray County, Georgia. Jim was 21 and Lilly was 16. They lived on Jim Petty Road in Crandall, Murray County, Georgia. Jim was a farmer and when we visited them a couple of times when I was a kid. He also raised collie dogs. They had nine children. One was a doctor, Glenn Petty, in Chattanooga who lived on Lookout Mountain. Once I read an article about Glenn's daughter Gail Petty, who went to West Point and after she was to graduate she and her brother had plans ride their bikes Maine to Florida. Another son of Jim and Lilly, Carton Petty, developed a huge farm that had its own FAA registered airport to fly out its produce. Another son Cecil, is the only son I have met. He was genuine a down-to-earth nice fellow. I am also related to Cecil's wife Mildred Baxter, through the Bookout family. Mildred and I are both descended from Jesse Bookout, who was an overseer of Chief Vann's plantation slaves. By the way, then, it was against Georgia's law for a white man to work for an Native American. the Georgia Militia surrounded the plantation to put an end to Jesse's employment. Jim and Lilly are buried at Sumac Presbyterian Cemetery - Murray Co., GA. I had the pleasure of taking these pictures of Lilly in August 1978, when she was about age 92, about five years before she died. She was sharp as a tack and witty, with a wry sense of humor. One interesting story she told me was that her husband and other of his siblings had to hold down their brother Erwin Petty, while their uncle Dr. William Virgil Garrett, removed Erwin's frostbit toes without anesthesia. She was living with her son Carlton* at the time, in a big stone house on the Cleveland Highway. *I did not get to meet Carlton on that visit, he was out in the fields working... as they say, make hay in the sunshine.

Daytona Beach 1960

The end of May 1960 I graduated from Marietta High School, along with 299 other co-seniors. Many of us that night went to Daytona Beach. My friend Monty, two others, and I left about that night. We figure we would make better time with less traffic on the roads. There were no Interstate expressways then. We all drunk beer on our trip down. In mid-south Georgia in a little town with a square that you had to drive around had confusing conflicting signs. I think one of us had to pee and there was a public park with no one around, so we stopped the car to let the guy relieve himself. Just as he was coming back behind a tree a policeman walked up to us wanting to know if he could help us. We told him where we wanted to go – so which road should we get on? He leaned over and was telling us when he saw beer cans in the car. He said, “Are those beer cans? Get out of the car!” Instead, Monty turned on the engine and sped away. The urinator was standing by the policeman. Monty circled the Square (it was one way) and we headed back towards the two. The urinator started running and we pulled up and he jumped into the car and off we went… south. Note: I’m not sure about the above paragraph. I may have got the year and location confused, and may be a collage of other events, if it happened at all. We arrived in Daytona Beach. I did my homework. I reserved some rooms for a bunch of us at the Renee. The Renee was a green stucco building directly across the street from Daytona Beach’s giant Orchestra Opened Concert Shell). The manager was a little short bald headed name we nicknamed “Wart”. He seemed highly nervous and at everyplace at once. A regular stayer at the Renee was an elderly gentleman who had dignity about him. We thought he might secretly the owner, he too, seemed to everyplace at once watching us, but he was wittier than wart. Before arriving I found an ad for breakfast for less than a dollar, I mean not just 99 cents, but maybe 75 cents. It was about three blocks inward away from the beach. That worked fine for two or three visits, but the novelty wore off of getting up early just to eat breakfast to save some money. There was a lot partying going on among us Mariettans. There were hundreds of us that decided to go to Daytona Beach that year. One unique scene I saw was a fellow graduate in her Metropolitan driving down the street of downtown with Bubba Johnson standing on the back bumper, leaning back, with a large straw-hat flopping in the breeze and urinating. He was holding “it” with one hand and a can of beer in the other. It was amazing he did not lose his balance and fall. Bubba died early as a young, but old enough to be married with a child. I know of one child I don’t know if there were more or not. He died in Texas on a business trip for Shamrock Mills, which his father owned. The Metropolitan he was riding on the back of, if it belonged to who I think it did, when she needed a gas cap or whatever, her and girlfriends would scour Lockheed Aircraft’s huge parking lot until they found the identical car and help themselves. At the Renee several groups of Marietta bunches stayed there because it was cheap. Three or four spent the whole time in Daytona Beach in the same Renee room, only leaving to get more beer. They had a huge pyramid of empty beer cans. They were so proud of it they would ask their fellow Mariettans to visit them to marvel at their creation. Then the cleaning help came and try to take it down, to them empty cans meant trash. They had strong words and the cleaning people threw down their towels and left their jobs. What was not known until then, there were a strife between motel and hotel workers and the owners and managers. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. All the workers in all the inns got word and walked off the job. Martin Luther King came down. So did NBC News. That wasn’t the only show that was erupting. Atlanta School’s teenagers were also parting at Daytona Beach. I don’t know about now, but then, cars were allowed to drive up and down the beach. Marietta people would ride up and down the beach hooting and hollowing at the Atlanta students and visa versa. Then someone in a big shiny new car that received it for graduation got keyed when it got too close to a group. I don’t remember who’s side the keyed car was on but I do know all hell broke loose. A whole lot of screaming and threats. It looked like a rumble was about to take place. Then, as far as I know, without any reason, it fizzled, and people returned to having fun. I sighed in relief. I can only suck in my stomach and protrude my chest just so long. There was a sheltered pier that played rock and roll music and hoards of teenagers went there, us included. I remember one of my Marietta friends had a new red Camaro. He parked on the beach out in the opened so he could keep an eye on his car. He didn’t want it keyed. He met a girl and they found themselves someplace to go. Then high tide came in engulfing his car. I don’t remember what happened about that. At the Renee, there was sort of a patio outside the ocean’s side with chairs and tables that we sat around a lot. Mainly, we picked that place to sit a lot because some of the Marietta girls had a room with the windows right there at the patio. Beside the patio I think there was about a 40” high wall separating the patio and the sidewalk, then the street, then another sidewalk and then the Daytona Beach Bandshell. We were sitting on the patio when a car with two teenage girls drove by the Renee very slowly. The windows were down all the way. I am usually more shy and timid but this time I had a surge of hyped up – I ran up to the car and leaped through the back side window into the car. I didn’t know it at the time nor anybody else knew it, but that leap changed the lives of two people forever. Wait, it is not what you are probably thinking. When I resituated myself, I used the oldest pickup line ever, at resorts” “Where are y’all from?” They said Cartersville, Georgia. My friend Larry Holcomb saw it all and walked over to where the girls parked the car. I introduced the Cartersville girls to Larry. Larry hit it off with one, I think her name is Sheila. After Daytona Beach they dated, and after he graduated from college they got married and stayed that way until death parted them. Larry died in the year 2000. They had a 40-year relationship. One night one of the Marietta group of girls had a party at the beach house they rented. Several us went. It was about a two mile walk down the beach. Later that evening and half drunk walking back down the beach to the Renee there was two women walking, that appeared to be drunk also. As we walked alongside them and talked to them we learned that the older woman was the mother of the other woman, who was pregnant. Ronnie Witcher was in our group and he tried to flirt with the two women, I remember him saying, that he knew they both knew how to really make out, being that one was pregnant and the other one was the mother of the second. When Ronnie was on to something, I remember he would nervous flick the ashes off his cigarette. Ronnie died about ten years ago in Mexico while skin diving. One guy about our age from Chattanooga started to hanging around with us. We called him “Hambone” because he was very good slapping his opened hands across parts of his body in a rhythm and of course sung, “Hambone Hambone, where you been?” and other songs with a beat. I do not remember the reason, but I rode back to Marietta with David and Bobby I think. Someplace near Waycross and on the edge of the Okefenokee Swamp we rode off the road. It was quiet a scare, but we managed to ;get back on the highway. At a roadside tourist trap they were selling monkeys. I would have bought one but they were costly. Back in Marietta we had a new friend. Monty brought Hambone home with him. He hung around for a few weeks and I suppose went back home in Chattanooga. I do not remember going into the Atlantic Ocean at all that trip. There are probably some things I forgot, so it is left out, and I will probably remember, as soon as I post this.

Ian the Terrible

This morning I decided to go through my incoming emails that I acted upon but yet put off filing or deleting them. Well, I acted on most them anyway. There were a few untouched. One that was in bold which indicates it has not been opened was one from a Ian Burke requesting to be my friend. I am choosy on whom I accept friend request. Generally I look for that person’s friends that he already had, what kind of art or wit is he/she gravitates to. I got a friend request from Ian Burke. I searched for Ian. He seemed to have plenty of collegiate well-dressed people in their mid 20s. Well, I am not in my mid 20s and not well dressed. I don’t think wasting Ian’s time would go over well. Then I noticed that in the begging of his Facebook page is a statement that Ian died Jan 14, 2016 yet his friend request was Nov 4, 2021, which is about 5 years and 10 months after he died..

Obediah and Nancy Elizabeth Tyson's Off Spring

Obediah married Nancy Elizabeth Huey [95] [MRIN: 51] on 18 Jan 1877 in , Cherokee Co, GA. Children from this marriage were: i. Janie Tyson [4993] was born on 22 Dec 1877 in , Cherokee Co, GA and died on 21 Nov 1880 in , Cherokee Co, GA at age 2. 17 ii. Minnie Victoria Tyson [41] iii. Thomas Greenbury "Bud" Tyson [4994] was born on 12 Jan 1882 in , Cherokee Co, GA, died on 16 Jan 1919 in Kennesaw, Cobb Co, GA at age 37, and was buried in Kennesaw City Cemetery, Kennesaw, Cobb Co, GA. iv. William Obediah "Will" Tyson [4996] was born on 28 Mar 1884 in , Cherokee Co, GA, died on 28 Aug 1979 in Marietta, Cobb Co, GA at age 95, and was buried in Bascomb United Methodist Church, Cherokee Co., GA. v. Lela Octavia "Tade" Tyson [4998] was born on 28 Feb 1886 in , Cherokee Co, GA, died on 7 Oct 1957 in Acworth, Cobb Co, GA at age 71, and was buried in Kennesaw Memorial Park Cem, Marietta, Cobb, GA. vi. Robert Edward "Ed" Tyson [5000] was born on 25 Aug 1888 in , Cherokee Co, GA, died on 24 Feb 1967 in Marietta, Cobb Co, GA at age 78, and was buried in Bascomb United Methodist Church, Cherokee Co., GA. vii. Johnny P. Tyson [5002] was born on 30 Jul 1890 in , Cherokee Co, GA and died on 30 Jul 1890 in , Cherokee Co, GA. viii. Elizabeth Tyson [5003] was born on 22 Jan 1892 in , Cherokee Co, GA and died on 22 Jan 1892 in , Cherokee Co, GA. ix. Annie Alice Tyson [5004] was born on 22 Mar 1893 in , Cherokee Co, GA, died on 29 Dec 1979 in Marietta, Cobb Co, GA at age 86, and was buried in Kennesaw Memorial Park Cem, Marietta, Cobb, GA. 35. Nancy Elizabeth Huey [95], daughter of John T. Huey [157] and Drucilla Wilson [158], was born on 4 Jun 1854, died on 20 Mar 1938 in , Cherokee Co, GA at age 83, and was buried in Bascomb United Methodist Church, Cherokee Co., GA. Pictures: Obediah and Nancy Elizabeth Huey, Anne Tyson (later m. Tom Crowder), Ed Tyson in WW1 Army Uniform, Ed Tyson and nephew Herbert Hunter, as single bachelors on the prowl, Will Tyson portrait in auto prop, Octavia Tade Tyson young, Tade by her auto-mobile, and Tade Tyson again, by the Confederate Memorial in the Confederate Cemetery in Marietta.

Small World

My son Rocky and his family spent the last half of the previous week in New York City. It was their son’s first time to the Big Apple. Their son got to see things he knew about, but this was the first time seeing them in person like Lady Liberty, Empire State Building, museums, Central Park and on and on. And what are the odds? In the middle of the huge city Rocky ran into an ex coworker Jeff on a sidewalk there. Rocky and Jeff worked together in Atlanta. I think sometimes the Gods are playing chess us as pawns.

Ahoy!

Post 8 years ago copied & Pasted: Our son Adam gave us a good pontoon ride across Lake Allatoona today. We started at Glade Marine, where he keeps his boat and went to the left by Allatoona Landing, then to near Acworth Damn, then turned the other way (north I think) and went by Red Top Mountain and by the Dam. Then we turned east (I think) and went by Atlanta Yacht Club, Gualts Ferry, and making a U-turn back at Victoria Landing. About everything we saw brought back memories - which I plan to tell about on my blog. Adam knows his boatsmanshipl. In the past several years he has spent much of his off time at Allatoona and knows the places and eccentricities of the huge lake as well as I ever did. We are proud of him.

SUNDAY FUNNIES!! HUMBUG Magazine #1, TWENTY-WIN Game Show

Before JEOPARTY. This was in HUMBUG's first issue. They only last 11 issues. Art by original MAD artist Will Elder and text by MAD creator Harvey Kurtzman.