Things My Great Granduncle Said - John Louis Pfingston (1902 - 1900)

 John Heinrich Pfingston Family Line

John Louis Pfingston (1902-1990) Things my Great Granduncle Said

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 Transcribed by Carolyn Ann Howard
Click on photos to enlarge

My friend and I just got back from the Henderson County Library after having listened to an in-depth interview with my grand grand uncle, John Louis Pfingston. John Pfingston lived in Henderson County, Kentucky, close to the ghost town of Scuffletown, which was located on the Ohio River directly across from the Newburgh, Indiana Lock and Dam.

Where Scuffletown Was
Google Maps
Proper Attribution Given

 Scuffletown quickly became a ghost town in 1937 after record flooding. Here is what John Pfingston had to say about that.

In 1913 we had water that got 48 [feet] and some 10ths, the biggest water we ever had, and we never thought we'd have something like that anymore. [The year] 1937 started and people knew [the water from the Ohio River] wouldn’t get higher than it did in 1913. They blocked [their] furniture up above the 1913 water [mark]. [The river] kept rising and kept raining.  And raining upstream. It rained 1 to 4 inches up there practically everyday. When it crested, it crested 54 [feet] something. That was 6 feet higher than 1913. Didn’t nobody ever dream of getting water that big...

...We started out with these boats. First we got the people out of the river bottoms. We took them to Newburgh, Spottsville or wherever they wanted to go. They wanted us to get their furniture, but we didn’t have time to fool with their furniture. We were going to get people and then we were going to get livestock. We got all the people out and got them on high ground, and then we started to get livestock. We got everything about out of Scuffletown bottoms and took them to Newburgh or Spottsville. I had one boat I didn’t see for 2-3 weeks and when I did, it was tore all to pieces. Tom, Dick, and Harry ran it. Even the motor was burned out; they didn’t put any oil in it

As far as rescuing the cattle:

Some of them had been in that cold water so long they couldn’t walk. They were numb. They liked to froze to death. A lot we had to drag onto the boat. We had some feed on there, some corn and hay. They would lay there and eat and by the time we’d get to Spottsville, Newburgh, Henderson, a lot of them were able to stand up and able to walk. 

On the future of our country:

I said now you boys and girls grow up and be good men and women, that's what the whole world needs. I said, you’re important. You’re going to be running our country before long. We have older people who are going to have to step down. You might be governor or president of the United States. The world is starving for is good men and good women.

About growing up on the farm:

It was a lot of hard work. Nothing easy about it. All hard work. We had to pump water for all the stock. We finally got a windmill at home, and that solved the problem pretty well. It was 60 feet tall. I didn’t mind the climb back then when I was a kid. Didn’t take hardly any wind to turn it, and when it turned, it would pump water. I'd go up every 2 weeks to oil it. Pretty soon our neighbors got windmills, and they’d give me $1 to oil their windmills.

On the World Wars:

World War One. There was four of us boys. And it just happened that we were in the age group that none of us had to go to World War One or Two. We didn’t do anything to keep from going, we were just out of the age. Of course somebody had to go. I get to thinking about these wars. We whooped Germany twice. Whooped Japan. Japan now is taking over.

On Russia:

And I’m scared to death of Russia. I was over there in Russia 12 days; I’m scared of it. You can’t depend on them. Afraid something is going to happen to blow us off the map. And they’ll do it. They don’t believe in God. They don’t value life.  I will say one thing, they keep everything clean. There’s something good about them.

On the Great Depression of 1929:

Nobody had anything. There was no money. I don’t know where the money was at. You could canvas the whole county or go house to house, I doubt you would find $300. There just wasn’t any money.

On the Use of Chemicals in Farming

Farming has changed. Used to chop weeds over there with a hoe and now they use a chemical... But this chemical that farmers are using, I’m afraid sooner of later its going to backfire. They are absolutely getting this soil full of it, and when it rains, part of it goes into the river. I’m afraid they’re going to have troubles.

Advice to Youth

I done said it. I want to tell them to stay away from this dope. This marijuana and alcohol. Absolutely no good. It’ll ruin your life. There’s people in penitentiary right now, dope addicts, wish they never saw the stuff.

The Greatest Thing to Ever Happen 

The greatest thing that happened to the rural area is getting electricity. That got rid of a lot of the hard work. Before that, they didn’t have nothing. No refrigerator, radio, TV, [or] bathroom, and that’s why people are living longer today. Things are a lot cleaner than they used to be.

© 2022 by December Moonlight Publishing, LLC

My Parent's Lifelong Love of Megachurch Pastors

 Growing Up with a Preacher Man

Rev. William "Lester" Howard (1929-2021)
Mary Eulalie McLean Howard (1933-2021)

My Parent's Lifelong Love of Megachurch Pastors
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by Carolyn Ann Howard

Most people don't believe me when I tell them we had cable television growing up in Monticello, Indiana, in the 1960s and 70s. I'm not sure when it was installed, but we had a cable box outside right there by the mailbox. We got about 13 channels. Channel 3 was the Kaiser Broadcasting System out of Chicago. Channel 4 was out of Indianapolis, and I enjoyed watching Cowboy Bob everyday around noon. Channel 9 was also out of Chicago and, beginning at 6:00 pm, ran their Comedy Tonight, which featured  The Honeymooners, which I did not like, I Love Lucy, which I did not like, Green Acres, which I adored, and that timeless classic The Dick Van Dyke Show.

My parents didn't watch much TV at that time in their lives, so the TV was pretty much mine. There was a time, however, when my mother did have the TV on, and that was Sunday mornings while we got ready for church. Every Sunday morning, Rex Humbard preached to us from his megachurch in Akron, Ohio, arguably one of the first megas in the United States. I doubt that I paid much attention to it. I just knew it was on. It was just part of the normal. Click on photos to enlarge

Rex Humbard
Public Domain via Wikipedia

My dad, of course, was not at home while Rex Humbard was preaching to us from his Cathedral of Tomorrow. I don't know what time Dad walked over to the church for Sunday morning, but I'm sure it was very early. He was a pastor through-and-through and devoted most of his waking hours to the church.

My father was more in awe of Billy Graham and all those people he evangelized back in the day. My father thought evangelism was the best way to minister - that is, bringing people into the church by telling them about Christ. (My father's words.) And once a part of the church, Dad would put them to work as Sunday school teachers, scripture readers, prayer givers, cooks for potlucks, etc. Our church in Monticello was BUSY and a lot of people wanted to be a part of that success.

Dad held Billy Graham and his sidekick, George Beverly Shea, on very high pedestals. Mom and I watched Billy Graham's Crusades when I was growing up, and it was confusing. I didn't like all the chaos of those thousands of people going forward to pray at Billy Graham's alter. For a Baptist, public confession is an important part of the doctrine. That is probably why I've been baptized three times, to make sure the public confession did the trick given all the "backsliding" I've done throughout my life. Thankfully when I converted to Lutheranism, no re-baptism was required.

Vincent Norman Peale, although not a televangelist, was another man my dad held up on a pedestal. Peale's book, The Power of Positive Thinking, became my father's mantra. I strove to take that mantra myself, but failed. My outlook on life is great now, but as a child... well, let's just say my childhood was pretty rough.

The megachurch pastor who may have planted that early seed in my father's head that he should become a mega pastor might have been Robert Schuller in Los Angeles. Dad marveled on many occasions how Schuller started his Garden Grove Community Church using a drive-in movie theater. Dad was so in awe of this.

Robert Schuller
Creative Commons via Wikipedia

Garden Grove Community Church, 1961
Robert J. Boser, Creative Commons, via Wikipedia

Mom as well was in awe of Robert Schuller, sending him monetary gifts on a regular basis. As I grew to adulthood, she began to share with me how much Robert Schuller's teachings meant to her and how he helped her with her growing depression. As a gift, the Schuller organization once sent her a clock as a thank you for her donations. The clock became one of her prized possessions. Talking with my daughter, the story brought a glimmer to her eye. She remembered the bird clock well and agreed that it had been indeed a prized possession of her grandmother.

Mom's bird clock
Carolyn Ann Howard Family Collection

Dad always said that it was a roommate of his that planted the megachurch idea in his head. He had attended a conference, and this man loaned him a book on how to start a megachurch. This was when I was 16, and my father's tone noticeably changed. He kept telling me about a recurring dream he was having about a huge barn filled with an extraordinary amount of tools. He just kept telling this to me. He said the barn was a huge church and the tools inside were all the people who attended that church.

I look back now and realize that this was his way of pleading with me to be okay with moving to Evansville, Indiana, as a high-schooler. A high-schooler, by the way, who was getting ready to be the accompanist of the coveted singing group The Golden Throats, a goal I had been working for my whole life, really. My tenure would be the last two years of my high school career, and then I had planned to enroll at The University of Evansville as a piano performance major. Our move to Evansville in 1977 would crush all of that, nor would Dad get his megachurch.

We moved to Evansville, Indiana, when I was 17, and I was unable to pivot. Dad was intent on building his megachurch, no matter what, using the now defunct East Side Baptist Church as his foundation. Well, that idea didn't go over very well with his new parishioners. In the meantime, the parishioners we had left behind in Monticello were devastated. I think they're doing okay now, 45 years later, but they did lose their prestigious Day Care Center because of our move.

Dad also floundered after our move. His mega church was not to be, and he felt so defeated. With the permission of the American Baptist Convention, he decided to start a new church in Newburgh, Indiana. This church was successful, definitely no mega, but successful. Then, something weird happened. He turned 65 and retired. I don't believe this was his choice, though. I think my mom was behind this. I don't know what her motivation was, but she so needed to live up to the status quo. Dad lived to make Mom happy, so he retired. After that, I watched him sink into a terrible depression as he watched in dread as his Newburgh church also became defunct.

I was working at a Methodist Church myself at this time, and so I went to the pastor of that church and asked if there was anything he could do to help Dad get back into the ministry. This pastor went to the District Superintendent of our area, and an appointment was set up for my dad to meet with him. The Methodists gave Dad a teeny church outside of Mount Vernon, Indiana. It was located on a little country road in the middle of nowhere! But Dad was so happy to be back in the ministry.

He didn't turn this church into a mega, either, but he did save them from becoming defunct. He used everything he had learned in his ministry to save this church and to bring new people in. Black's Chapel, as they were then called, now have a very nice property on one of the main roads in Mt. Vernon, closer to town, and they are flourishing. A nice group of them came to Dad's funeral, gratefully, and they told me that yes, Dad saved their church. I worked there the last three years of my Dad's ministry in Mt. Vernon, and I can say that actually, they saved Dad.

Mt. Vernon Community Church (Black's Chapel)
Google Maps
Proper Attribution Given

In his final years, Dad was enveloped in regret and grief for leaving Monticello; a lot of it probably from his dementia. He also realized how much he interrupted the plans that I had for myself. I tried to let him off the hook, because I'm very happy and very successful. But it was not to be.

The most important thing to Dad, however, more than anything else, including his own family, was reaching people for Christ, as he would always say. He was victorious in that endeavor.

In loving memory of my parents, Rev. William "Lester" and Mary Howard.

© 2022 by December Moonlight Publishing, LLC

How to Successfully Live in a Nursing Home

How to Successfully Live in a Nursing Home

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by Carolyn Ann Howard

I learned a lot about nursing home living since my mother was in one for the last 7 years of her life. As Pastor eulogized at her funeral, he couldn't imagine living 7 months in a nursing home, let alone 7 years. Cheers, yes. But if you must, here's how to make the most of it, even if you're there just to rehab-to-home.

Nursing Facility courtesy Pixabay

1. Accept your plight.

If you find yourself in a nursing facility, accept that this is now your home. Even if you are rehab-to-home, this should also be your attitude, as it will make your stay much more palatable. Literally the worst thing about being in a nursing facility is that, as of this writing, most people have a roommate. I feel like this will soon be changing and the sooner it does, the better. But until then, decorate your half of the room to make it feel like your home.

2. Stay mobile.

The nursing facility my mother was in did amazing things to help Mom stay mobile, even against her will. Her last 7 years were miserable, because she didn't accept her plight, nor did she try to stay mobile. If you're mobile, you have so much more freedom, and if you have a good attitude, family and friends will be able to take you for outings if you're mobile. If you need a walker, that's fine. But fight, fight, fight to stay out of a wheelchair. The Physical Therapy (PT) department will most likely allow you to use their exercise equipment, as long as they are there in the PT room and don't need it for another patient for whom PT has been ordered. So use that equipment, such as the stationery bike, to keep your legs strong. Somebody has said that a person needs 10,000 steps a day. You can do that easily in the nursing facility, walking up and down the hallways. Just stay out of the healthcare workers' way.

3. Don't let depressing thoughts weigh you down.

If you find yourself in a nursing facility, you have to keep depressing thoughts away from you. So do things to make yourself happy. Read books, watch TV, play on the computer. What things did you do to make yourself happy prior to finding yourself in a nursing home? I love doing genealogy, for example. Find a hobby that you can manage inside the nursing facility. If you're a reader, which I am not, but if you are, books were in abundance at Mom's facility.

4. Get outside.

Most nursing facilities have courtyards or chairs at the front door. When its nice outside, get out there! Watch the birds, watch the squirrels. Breathe the air!

5. Be nice to everyone.

You don't have to be friends with anyone, but be nice to everyone. You are all in the same boat! And being nice helps to keep everyone's spirits up. Don't get involved in petty disagreements.

6. IMPORTANT - Eat in the dining room.

So many residents eat in their room. This is a mistake for several reasons. Countless rehab-to-home patients - maybe in an effort to make "going home" as their main goal - eat in their rooms. Do not do this. Eat in the dining room. Why? Because it gets you out of your room, and it helps to break up the day. Also, if you need help with your food, that's where the workers are. You can raise your hand, and they will help you. If you're in your room, and you need help, the workers are busy and may not be able to get to you right away. Don't like what you're being served? There are usually alternatives, but these alternatives are available to those who are eating in the dining room. At the facility where my mom was at, there was always chicken noodle soup, and it was pretty good. Also, your food is going to be hotter and fresher.

I noticed that a lot of carbs and sweets were served to the residents in Mom's particular nursing home. Try to stay away from these. First of all, you'll want to watch your weight. Its so easy to gain weight while in the nursing facility. This is bad, because it will help to make you immobile, which is the worst thing that could happen to you.

There are always healthy options. Go for those.

7. Drink your water.

In Mom's nursing facility, there was always coffee, tea, and water available in the dining room. Take advantage of these benefits. The staff always made sure Mom had a glass of water available close by her bed.

8. Participate in the activities.

This will help you to keep your mood up and keep your hands busy. It will also provide you with the fellowship of the other residents. You don't have to get close to anyone if you don't want to, but do have fun with the others who are there and with the workers.

9. Keep up with current events. 

10. Keep your mind busy. 

Do puzzles or play computer games. Play cards. Don't let your mind be idle. Again, read books! What's something you enjoy? Do that.

11. Don't guilt trip your visitors. I dreaded visits with my mother, because she guilt tripped us every visit, and it's so disheartening to go visit someone who has so much spite because of their situation. She came up with countless conspiracy theories on why she was in the nursing home and begged us to take her home, even though none of us could give her the care she needed. She let her situation get the best of her, and it did not serve her well. So don't do it, because you want your visitors to look forward to seeing you. And, maybe they'll take you out for lunch!

12. Take advantage of special things.

Some nursing facilities take their residents out on a bus for field trips. At the nursing facility where my mother lived, they had restaurant day once a month, where they would order to go food from any restaurant you wanted.

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Nursing facilities are not what they were when I was growing up in the 60's and 70's. I understand why my pastor doesn't want to go into one, and, I don't want to go either! But I know of people who really should go to a nursing facility who absolutely refuse. But at the nursing facility, there are people there to help you should you get up in the middle of the night with a racing heartbeat. Or if you fall down while trying to get to the restroom. And also, they provide things to do so you're not sitting immobile watching TV all day. Or calling your children in the middle of the night asking them to take you to the ER.

Don't think you can afford a nursing home? A good elder law attorney can get you on Medicaid for less than $10,000. I know that's a lot, but at my mom's facility, it cost less to get her onto Medicaid than for one month of skilled care.

© 2022 by December Moonlight Publishing, LLC

Thoughts About My Mother and Her Dying

 Growing Up with a Preacher Man

Rev. William "Lester" Howard (1929-2021)
Mary Eulalie McLean Howard (1933-2021)

Thoughts About My Mother and Her Dying
____________________

by Carolyn Ann Howard

I didn't cry much when Dad died in October of this year (2021). I was half-mad, but I didn't cry. Half-mad, because I couldn't get him to accept the care he needed until it was too late. If I could've gotten him into Hamilton Pointe when I wanted to earlier this year, he might still be with us. So yeah, half-mad, but I didn't cry. Just a few days before his death, we were able to get an emergency admission into Newburgh Healthcare, thanks to the amazing caregivers at Heart to Heart Hospice and, of course, the staff of Newburgh Healthcare. But Dad rarely listened to me or sought my counsel.

Mom stopped eating after Dad died, but that also wasn't a surprise. My mother was the Queen of No. No to me having Power of Attorney. Thankfully, the social worker at Newburgh Healthcare talked her out of saying no to that. No to needing to eat. No to the Covid booster. No to getting her diabetes finger prick, and no to insulin. And, the last time I saw my mother lucid, it was no to the brownie that was on her plate. As my daughter, Stephanie, recalls, "She chucked that brownie across the table. It's now my favorite memory." And then, the other resident sitting at the table with us said, "I want my brownie, though. Can you push it closer to me?" Which the answer was, Absolutely!

Dad could always talk Mom out of saying "no." Always. Every time. One of the workers told me that once when Dad came in to pick up Mom for church on a Sunday morning, he was upset that Mom wasn't dressed and ready to go. The worker told him that she had refused to get up that morning. Dad went into the room, she said, and he came out a few minutes later and said, "She's ready now." Dad would've been able to talk Mom into eating, or into taking the Covid booster, or anything else she needed to be talked into. As with my Dad, I never had that power with my Mom. To be fair, I'm pretty stubborn myself.

The day before Mom died, 19 Dec 2021, hospice called to say she had gone down hill very quickly that Sunday. The next morning, while in the bath, the nurse at Newburgh Healthcare called to say that she wasn't expected to make it. Well, I've heard that one before. There were quite a few times the last 20 years when I have seen Mom so ill that I didn't expect her to make it. One of those times was when she was admitted to Newburgh Healthcare in 2014. I didn't think she'd be in there for more than a couple of days. She stayed 7 years.

So I was in the bath, and they called and wanted me to come in as quickly as I could. I kind of thought that maybe this was going to be it. But, I didn't expect it to be that very day. I got to the nursing home before the hour was up, met with the hospice nurse and the facility nurse, and then the chaplain came in. Mom was on morphine and comfortable. Remembering how I lost all my pictures because I was complacent in getting them out of my dad's house, I picked up a few things I knew I wanted from my mother. Memories. Two pieces of the last nativity set that she didn't finish. (She handmade many nativity sets in her lifetime.) Her Bible. A couple of photo albums she had that was of her McLean family. And then, I rushed out, heading to go to work, leaving her behind with the chaplain. Click on photos to enlarge

 As I was leaving, the business personnel, who were having lunch together in the break room, asked me if she had passed. I said, "no, not yet." But I had to go to work. I had piano lessons scheduled for Monday and Tuesday of that week, having then the rest of the year to myself. I would be back tomorrow, I reasoned, and this is what I told the workers. And I would be off after that to give Mom all the time in the world.

I got the call while I was teaching that afternoon, and since I didn't answer, Stephanie was the second person they called to tell her Mom had passed. I still didn't cry. Stephanie did.

I didn't cry as we were cleaning out her room at Newburgh Healthcare. I didn't cry when talking with the pastor who was to give her eulogy. I didn't cry at the visitation. I didn't cry during her eulogy. Death is so natural to me. As a pastor's daughter, I grew up with death. My first marriage, which lasted 29 years, was to a man who worked maintenance at a funeral home and whose best friends were funeral directors. We hung out a lot at the funeral home. I saw a lot of death. And, I have been a church musician practically my whole life and have played countless funerals. Death doesn't bother me.

After the funeral service, Kenny drove Stephanie and I in our Jeep Compass behind the hearse all the way from Washington Avenue in Evansville, Indiana, to Yankeetown, Indiana, if not on the grounds of Alcoa, pretty close, to Bates Hill Cemetery. We had just been there a few months ago for my father's burial, and Stephanie and I had visited later for a picture of the stone for Find-A-Grave. It was familiar.

Pastor said a few words and had a prayer. And then that was it. It was time to go. But... but... I couldn't leave her here. Everyone had started walking to their cars. I grabbed Stephanie's hand to try to stop myself from crying. We can't leave her here, I thought. Are we just going to leave her here? I decided I wouldn't leave. I'd sit there forever, fighting back tears. I didn't care how long it would take; I was just going to sit there and wait. I could see in the corner of my eye that Pastor was waiting for me to be okay enough to get up from the chair I was sitting in. Stephanie coaxed me up. I knew I had to leave. I knew I couldn't sit there, but why couldn't I? We can't just leave her here!

My mother and I. We never were close. We never really saw anything eye-to-eye. And we were never going to no matter what either one of us did. But, in that moment, I understood that this was my mom and that she was gone. She didn't visit me after her death like my father did, but this was still my mom, and she still was gone.

But she's not really gone, is she? She's in her heavenly home with her sister, her mom, and my dad. When she and her sister put their heads together, there was no one else. Betty has been gone 9 long years now. And now, they're with each other again, with their heads together, no doubt, scheming their next project.

Mom with her younger sister, Betty
They were always close
Carolyn Ann Howard Family Collection

Uncle Rufus Jr., Mom, Uncle Eddie, Aunt Betty, Uncle Owen
Only the youngest, Owen, is left
Carolyn Ann Howard Family Collection

 

Stephanie walked with me back to the car, but I asked my husband permission - who knows why in that moment - but I asked permission to go see my Aunt Robbin one last time before they drove back to their home near Indianapolis. Everyone else were in their cars, ready to go, but no one could leave until we did, because we had them blocked in. So Stephanie walked me down the procession of cars. I didn't know what vehicle they were in, but it didn't matter. Aunt Robbin jumped out of the vehicle, and we hugged one last time. I don't think Aunt Robbin really understood how much I have always loved her until after my parents died. She asked me to come see her soon, and I said, "I want to." And I do. And hopefully that's in the cards for 2022 - which I think is going to be a great year, by the way.

© 2022 by December Moonlight Publishing, LLC

Edythe Louise "Edie" Marquess Miller (1911-1988)

 Growing Up with a Preacher Man

Rev. William "Lester" Howard (1929-2021)
Mary Eulalie McLean Howard (1933-2021)

Edythe Louise Marquess Miller (1911-1988)
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by Carolyn Ann Howard

Listen... I'll be honest. I didn't like Edie Miller. Maybe I should say I was jealous. I felt growing up that she and my father spent way too much time together. What were they talking about together at the church all the time? I don't know. In hindsight, I'm sorry I didn't like her. I realize now that she was a fine, fine person. Still, my dad rarely was at home, and I hold that in my heart still to this day. Click on photos to enlarge

Edie Miller's college yearbook photo
Courtesy Ancestry
Fair Use

Dad tried to establish family night at one point, but I was a teenager by that time, and it was too late. I said no, and he threw his hands up immediately and said "okay." And then he tricked me by starting a youth group instead. Joke was on me.

Our first youth group in Monticello
Carolyn Ann Howard Family Collection

When I was just 15 years old, for whatever reason, I decided to throw my parents a surprise 25th wedding anniversary party at the church. I recruited the church's secretary to help me plan the event. I did not, however, recruit Edie Miller. But there she was with her hands in the midst of it. In retrospect, she was the best person for the job!

My parents at their 25th party
Edie Miller in the background
Carolyn Ann Howard Family Collection

Edie Miller was born Edythe Louis Marquess in Crawfordsville, Indiana, to Frank Marquess and Florence Green. She attended Butler University in Indianapolis for at least a year. She married Myron Miller in 1937 in Indianapolis, and they later moved to Monticello, Indiana.

Myron was a pharmacist, and he is the one who filled the "diet pill" prescription my mother had become addicted to. My mother was an enigma. If Mr. Miller questioned the validity of whatever these amphetamines were, this prescription was for Mrs. Howard, the wife of Rev. Howard. That meant it was perfectly fine. After we moved to Evansville, the pharmacist here said "no" when she presented her prescription to him.

I can't gain access to the Monticello, Indiana, newspapers, which would be so helpful. Mr. Miller worked at one of the pharmacies in downtown Monticello. After school, my friends and I would sometimes stop into the soda fountain at the pharmacy for a Coca-Cola. I still remember the wood floors in those old buildings, and how they creaked when someone walked on them. Mr. Miller always was cordial, not overly friendly, but nice. I also remember my friend, Kathy Olson, telling me to try a cherry coke. I was not a fan.

The reason to honor this woman, however, was that she honored me as a teenager, and I'll forever be grateful to her for this. In 1974, Monticello endured an F4 tornado that, according to Wikipedia, "produced the longest damage path recorded during the 1974 Super Outbreak." The destruction of this tornado was great. The area in which we lived including the parsonage, the church, and Loucille Cole's home, were fairly undamaged in comparison. We lived in a sort of valley with the Tippecanoe River being just a block further downhill. A ridge rose on the opposite side of the river where a "National Homes" subdivision was located. It was destroyed, and its numerous belongings were blown down into our large yard.

After the tornado, my mother was inconsolable, begging Dad to move to Newburgh, Indiana, so she could be with her family. She was yelling at my father, through her tears, to move. This was a mistake, because only a few years later, we moved to Evansville, Indiana, close to Newburgh. My mother never got over the move from Monticello.

Back to the tornado and its aftermath... My father, Rev. Howard, decided that he needed to be there for his parishioners. That's fair. And we had lost power to the house, and I believe it got pretty cold outside afterward. I don't know where my mother went, but they shipped me off to someone who worked at the church's day care. I became very sick that evening, so I caused a lot of trouble to this person. Once to this person's home, I started throwing up at one end with diarrhea on the other. She had to clean up one mess of body fluids after another. And, to top it off, I wet the bed that night. This person threw me into her car the next morning and took me back to 407 Beach Drive and washed her hands of me. I never saw her or her family again after that.

Myron and Edie Miller
Carolyn Ann Howard Family Collection

After that, I was shipped to.... Edie Miller. I don't think Mrs. Miller knew my feelings for her. Perhaps she felt like I was struggling after seeing my hometown destroyed. She would have been right. I was devastated after the tornado. We all were. She told me I was suffering from malnutrition, and she made me dry toast and poached eggs for dinner. I ate them. She really tried to take care of me that night. She brought out board games for us to play together. I don't think I was rude, and I hope I wasn't. But she is the one who saved me. I was healthy and well when I left her care.

It was two years later that I planned that surprise 25th wedding anniversary for my parents. Thankfully, Mrs. Miller stepped in to help. I could not have pulled it off without her.

Ruth Kretchmar, Sharon Tolley, Edie Miller
1976 surprise party for my parents
Carolyn Ann Howard Family Collection

© 2022 by December Moonlight Publishing, LLC

Dr. Minnie Hayden Howard (1872-1965) Frontier Doctor of the West

 Johann Gottfried Hauer (John Godfrey Howard) Family Line

Dr. Minnie Hayden Howard (1872-1965) Frontier Doctor of the West
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by Carolyn Ann Howard

Dr. Minnie Howard may not be related to me through blood, but I'm still incredibly proud to have her same last name, Howard. Dr. Minnie was the wife of my third cousin, twice removed. Click on photos to enlarge

Dr. Minnie Howard

Dr. Minnie was born Minnie Hayden in Memphis, Missouri, to a farmer and his wife, Jacob and Carina (Carrie). When she was 14, she moved with her parents and siblings to Larned, Kansas. The reason for the move may have been the call of the west, which was strong at that time. It might be that opportunities were better for their children in Larned. This would be information that perhaps an extended study would find.

Dr. Minnie attended Central Normal College in Great Bend, Kansas, before embarking on a career in teaching in rural Kansas.

Five of Dr. Minnie's letters to her then future husband, which can be found on-line through Idaho State University, show that Dr. Minnie was well-educated and highly regarded. In the letters, she called her future husband, William Forrest Howard, her "esteemed friend." She also, in these few letters, outlines her brother, Will's, carriage accident, in 1890. Will fractured his skull and almost died. He did recover from his injuries, and, in his adult life, he was a pharmacist. I'm wondering if his accident was something that caused Minnie to consider becoming a doctor. According to Idaho's Remarkable Women by Lynn Bragg, her husband talked her into getting a medical education, so that she would understand the lifestyle. Her mother, Carrie, died in 1892, another factor that may have caused Dr. Minnie to make a decision on becoming a doctor.

Minnie's brother, Will

Dr. Minnie's husband, William Forrest Howard, also graduated from Central Normal College. After their marriage on 23 Aug 1894, in Larned, Kansas, at the home of the bride, they both taught school. William and Dr. Minnie graduated from the University of Kansas Medical School, Minnie in 1899. Upon their graduation, the couple practiced for a few years in Cuba, Kansas. In 1902, however, they moved their practice to Pocatello, Idaho.

Pocatello, Idaho circa 1890
Public Domain via Wikipedia

I have no insight, again, as to why they moved to Pocatello, but, my goodness, it was so gorgeous. Situated all throughout the Pocatello, Idaho region are many summits and mountain ranges.

Mountain scape of Pocatello

The Howards did a lot of good in Pocatello, so much so that in 1983, a mountain range was named after them: Howard Mountain!

Minnie herself did much philanthropic work in Pocatello, for example, heading the committee to get a grant from Andrew Carnegie for the Carnegie Library that still serves the community to this day.

Modern day Pocatello Library
Tricia Simpson via Wikimedia Commons

Most of the biographies I have read about Dr. Minnie states she gave up her medical practice after the birth of their second or third son. depending on the source. I don't think this is true. Sure, in essence, she gave up her practice, but she continued to use her medical knowledge for the good of her family and those around her, particularly the Native Americans who lived nearby in the Fort Hall Reservation. The reservation was originally founded in 1868 and was home to the Shoshone and Bannock tribe. Indeed, Pocatello was named for Chief Pocatello (1815-1884).

Tribute to Chief Pocatello
Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons

The consumption of alcohol at this time in United States history was a serious problem. Although we know now that temperance was a terrible idea, many people then saw no other way to reign in America's drinking problem. Dr. Minnie was no exception. She held offices with the Women's Christian Temperance Union (WCTU) and affiliated herself with the Prohibition National Party. 

It is a myth that Native Americans have a predisposition to alcoholism, but during Dr. Minnie's lifetime, it was widely accepted as the truth, unfortunately. Because of this, Dr. Minnie worked tirelessly to keep alcohol out of the hands of the Shoshoni and Bannock tribes. She is said to have been a friend of Chief Pocatello's daughter, though, so her work with the tribes would have been sincere. She offered them medical care as well as food.

Another reason to believe in Dr. Minnie's sincerity is her interest in, not only local history, but her attempts to locate the original Old Fort Hall, considered by some to be the most important location on the Oregon Trail. Along with a few others and her husband, the location was discovered, although "experts" disputed it. An archaeological excavation in 1993 proved Dr. Minnie and her crew's findings correct. The site is now the home of The Fort Hall Replica and Museum, 3000 Avenue of the Chiefs in Pocatello.

3000 Avenue of the Chiefs
Google Maps
Proper Attribution Given

Courtyard of the Replica of Fort Hall
Jeffrey G. Backes via Wikimedia Commons

The first marker at Fort Hall in 1916
Public Domain via Wikipedia

The Discovery of Old Fort Hall
Public Domain via Ancestry

Dr. Minnie was an avid history buff, particularly of Old Fort Hall. She wrote several articles for the newspaper concerning Fort Hall as well as the history of Pocatello. According to Idaho State University's web site, she was a member of the Library Committee, Art & Travel Club, Music Club, and Southern Idaho Historical Society. She was also on the City and County Welfare Board and was Bannock County Historian from 1931 to about 1956.

For his part, Dr. William Forrest Howard, who also was with the group to place the first marker at Fort Hall, was active in the community. According to the Idaho State University web site, he served as coroner and city physician. He was active with the Masons, Shriners, and the Kiwanis Club. According to Idaho's Remarkable Women by Lynn Bragg, Dr. Howard and his wife helped to found Pocatello General Hospital in 1905.

This blog posting merely scratches the surface on the life of Dr. Minnie Howard. It would be an amazing feat to write an entire book about her. Unfortunately, that would include an extended stay in Idaho for study. While that would be a great time, and I would love it, it's just not feasible. It is my hope that this blog posting will honor her memory.

Dr. Minnie and her husband had four sons. They all grew up to be physicians.

The Howard Sons
Public Domain via Ancestry

© 2022 by December Moonlight Publishing, LLC

Mary Ann Poore Dean (1902-1987)

 Growing Up with a Preacher Man

Rev. William "Lester" Howard (1929-2021)
Mary Eulalie McLean Howard (1933-2021)

Mary Ann Poore Dean (1902-1987)
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by Carolyn Ann Howard

I'm not sure how my mother decided which myriad of older church members I was going to stay with on their date nights, but fortunately, Mary Dean was one of those church members. She lived very close to our house on Beach Drive on Pine Lane in Monticello, Indiana. Her house was newer than ours, ranch style. And I loved her bathroom! She had a shower in tub with glass shower doors that I thought were beautiful. This is probably why when I moved into my first home, I had my first husband install them. MISTAKE! Do not put glass shower doors on your tub! They are so difficult to clean. Also in her bathroom was a vanity chair. It was all so fancy.

I'm not sure how much I stayed with her, but I remember sitting on her living room floor, playing pick-up sticks with her or typing on her typewriter. I've always loved typing. We didn't watch TV. In hindsight, she may have sat at her kitchen table grading papers. I didn't realize she was a schoolteacher at the elementary school where I attended. She retired in 1968 after the death of her husband, Glen, who was also a schoolteacher. I was 7. Apparently, according to my childhood friend, Linda, Mary continued to substitute teach in the same school system.

She was always kind to me, and she was always gracious when I stayed with her. She had a guest bedroom that was reserved just for me. Outside of the bedroom window, I could see the Burger King lighted sign. I would watch out that window, waiting for the light to switch off. That's how I knew it was 10 pm, which meant it was time to go to sleep. I never had trouble sleeping at her house. I don't remember what it was like to wake up at her house, though. I can imagine that she welcomed the new day and me, perhaps having breakfast ready? I just can't remember.

Once when we were together on a Friday night, we went to a restaurant that had all you can eat fried chicken. I ate all that I could eat and then some. She never shamed me for being too heavy or for eating too much. When we got into her car, I told her I could go back in now and eat some more. She told me that she could, too! I also remember eating with her at a nice restaurant with tables and tablecloths. It may have been Angler's Restaurant.

Mary Dean was born Mary Ann Poore in St. Louis, Missouri. Her parents were Frank and Anna Poore, and she was born in 1902! When I think of the people in my young life being born over 100 years ago is a bit lifechanging! Also thinking of all those wonderful people in my young life, I am finding a gratitude for those women that I've never felt before. When you're young, that's just your normal, right? How I wish I could go back and hug all those wonderful women! I will hug them for sure when we all get to heaven.

Reaching out on Facebook, hoping to find a few pictures since my father threw all my Monticello pictures away, in his dementia. God bless him. I didn't find any pictures, but I did find some comments. She apparently was a stern schoolteacher. She also - I had forgotten - had a birthmark that covered half of face. This was off-putting to some, unfortunately. How brave she must have been.

After remembering the birthmark, I wondered how much it affected her life. I did find at least one picture. Her senior picture. It is heartbreaking. The name of "Poore" at the bottom of her picture indicates her maiden name. Click on photos to enlarge

Mary Ann Dean nee Poore attended Ball State Teachers College and graduated from there with a master's degree in elementary education. Her husband, Glen, also graduated from there. I imagine this is where they met. They settled in Kokomo, Indiana, where they both taught public school. I don't know why they moved to Monticello, but I would think it was because they were offered good jobs there. They lived a modest life, to be sure, but it doesn't seem they wanted for anything. They attended church faithfully.

Death doesn't bother me. It never has. And I wonder if it's because I grew up with it. We had many funerals at the church growing up, and the bodies would be delivered sometimes the day before. And I was there with the bodies, and it was the normal. To that end, when Mrs. Dean's husband, Glen, died in 1968, his embalmed body was delivered to the church. The next day, at the funeral, the only thing I remember was watching Mrs. Dean walk up the church sidewalk to the doors. She was stoic. And it left me wandering, how was she feeling right then?

After Mr. Dean died, Mrs. Dean and my father put their heads together, brainstorming of what to do with the church building during the week. Dad didn't think the church building should ever be empty, except maybe at night - maybe. They settled on starting a day care center. Mrs. Dean volunteered her time every day, every week, and worked to build the day care center. The endeavor was successful, and the day care center served many children over the years. 

You know what makes me so angry at myself is not keeping in touch with these wonderful people. And I'm angry that I didn't rescue my pictures. I thought they were safe in my father's care. When I realized he had thrown the pictures of the day care center away, I became a little more intentional on getting whatever pictures he had left into my possession. I didn't want to upset him by taking what he perceived to be his things.

I did also find a small box of slides that I was able to make into jpegs. In this picture, Mary Dean may be the woman on the right, but I can't blow the photo up close enough to see if that's her birthmark or a blemish in the picture. Many of the slides were in such bad shape with many blemishes.

After the day care was up and running successfully by itself, Mrs. Dean retired and moved back to Kokomo. At the end, she was with her son, David, in Brazos County, Texas.

© 2022 by December Moonlight Publishing, LLC