Sister Blanche and the 1940 Census

I called my Mom today just to chat.  I love that I can do that.

  We are working on our family history together.  I showed her how to search the 1940 Census and she now has my Dad helping her look for people.  We both get involved in the stories about people we don't even know.  How did they get there?  Why did they have so many people living under one roof?  But I digress.

Mom decided to go back through Murphysboro, Ill because she thought she may have forgotten to look for a family member.  This time she stumbled upon  Sister Blanche.  Mom said when she saw the name all her memories of Sister Blanche came rushing back.

Sister Blanche crocheted two shawls.  One she gave to my grandmother and one to my mother.  Sister Blanche was also there when my mother was pregnant with me and was very concerned because a coffin was placed outside my mother's window.  Worse yet, my mother was going to be there when they opened the coffin so they could see how much decay had happened to the body.  Sister Blanche would not stay and she was convinced that I would be marked because of this experience.  (That is still up for debate) 

Now before you jump to conclusions and think that my mother was involved in grave robbing let me explain.  My grandfather took care of the cemetery.  That means that he dug graves, mowed it and did all the things one does in a cemetery.  Death was just part of life.  So when they had the opportunity to move a coffin from one cemetery to another and with the Funeral Director there they decided that they would open the coffin.  Nothing morbid, just curiosity.

Back to Sister Blanche.  As my Mom was telling me her memories I wondered who else was there to still tell stories about Sister Blanche?  Not many I am sure.

My Mom shared Sister Blanche with me and I want to share Sister Blanche with you.  You see all the names on that census that we glide over in our hurry to find our ancestor have stories.  Stories that may never be told.  Stories that like the ink on the paper are fading from memory.

I turned out pretty okay Sister Blanche.  Thanks for caring about me all those years ago.