I never met my grandmother, though we share so much in common. Over the years I have gathered her writings and information about her. This journal honors her brief life and her ongoing legacy.
Nellie Turnage died on April 4, 1937 when she was 29 1/2 years of age. My father, Paul was 4 years, 8 months of age and his brother Jim Hunter was 7 years, 7 months of age.
Nellie wrote a letter to "Dodie" when my dad was about a month old. When she wrote the country was in the midst of the '37-'38 depression. Delores kept the letter until 1976 when she forwarded it to Milton Turnage who in turn forwarded it to my father. This is what the letter said:
September 2, 1932 2808 California Street Denver, Colorado
Dear Dodie:
Don't faint my dear it's really me and with a letter instead of a measley old postal card. Sometimes I most rebel at having to spend an hour every afternoon in bed but it's ordered and since I can't seem to get thru the day without it, I have been spending the last three afternoons hour trying to catch up on letters. I needed to make a list of names of all those to whom I owed letters then say eney-menie-minie-mo to see who to write to first.
But I wrote to Ed as I had owed him a letter since I was sick last spring. Don't say shame, I was really so ashamed if it hadn't of been dark I feel I would have crawled under the bed to answer it.
Well dear I have manage to travel part way back from the shadowed valley and the last two weeks of my time it was pretty dark down there. We had a wonderful Doctor who kept reaching down and dragging me back tho there were times when it didn't seem to matter if I got back or not. I had pains continually for two weeks. The Doctor kept coming every now and then expecting the baby any time. But Dodie . . . he couldn't be dearer . . . our two boys are darlings and even tho I don't wonder anymore "why mothers get grey" since I know I'm glad there are two now instead of one. Dr. kept me in bed two weeks and James soon learned I couldn't get up to make him mind and Fred being gone most of the day he got pretty naughty. I believe he and your little one would make a nice good team indeed. James certainly is a little dare devil. I guess perhaps if I wasn't so nervous or perhaps it's a rotten disposition I have, I wouldn't notice everything quite so much.
I have had two ulcerated teeth out since I got up and believe me for about five days I could leave my mouth closed with complete satisfaction. I received a note from a family male member in Missouri who said, "I'll have to be showed the idea of a woman having her mouth closed and no desire to open it." Oh, well give them their way now and I'll have my way when I am old.
Paul has an abundance of dark brown hair and brown eyes. James has blue eyes. I believe both of the boys will have black hair or extremely dark by the time they are 5 or 6 years old. James' hair is quite dark now; he thinks the baby grows awfully slow, he things he should be big enough to shoot marbles by now. How he loves his baby brother.
Ed and family are to move to Kansas City, Kansas about the 20th of this month where he will enter the Baptist Theological Seminary.
Fred hasn't anything for certain for this winter but one of the men where he has been taking care of lawns has worked as a wholesale grocery salesman for a number of large firms here for 30 years and thinks he can get Fred a job as grocery delivery this winter. Here is hoping and praying he can - we have so many doctor bills both old and new. I don't know when we will ever get them all paid.
I hope your men folks have work by now even tho we all manage to keep the wolf from the door he sometimes sits on the porch steps I believe. But we have such wonderful friends they have all been so good oh, so good thru our recent trying ordeal and all thru the time I repeat over and over, "Here's to the tears of friendship! May they crystalize as they fall to be worn as jewels by those we love."
Is Francis still working? We have two rooms rented upstairs unfurnished, the people furnish them and are supposed to pay $7.00 per month. There is water, lights and bath up there. We have four rooms and a store (junk) room downstairs. The people upstairs pay such a small amount at a time, tho it comes in handy what they give. Well my boy seems to need attention (dry trousers) so bye-bye for this time. Write when you can and I'll try to do better next time.
Julius Orlando Stone was born April 3, 1840, at Fitzwilliam, New Hampshire, and passed away at Wilsonville, Nebraska, and passed away at Wilsonville, Nebraska, July 2, 1940, at the age of 100 years, 2 months and 29 days.
At the age of 21 he enlisted in the army of the Civil War and served his country in the 14th New Hampshire Volunteers, serving till the close of the war, and mustered out July 8, 1865. During this service he was in the battles of Winchester, Fisher's Hill and Cedar Creek.
He married Olive Maria Bourne ( born October 24,1842, Richmond, New Hampshire) at Rindge, New Hampshire on October 28, 1858 (she was 16 when they married and he was 18) She was the daughter of Daniel and Marie (Ballou) Bourne. She passed away in October, 1917, after a long illness.
In 1867 they moved to Marion, Iowa, where they remained eight years and in 1875 moved their family to Wilsonville, Nebraska, and took a homestead one-half mile west of the present town site. In later life they moved into the town of Wilsonville for the remainder of their life.
On the trip from Iowa to Nebraska he walked every step of the way(466 miles; he was 27 and she was 25 years old) as the load was heavy and the team was light. Horatio and Sarah Bourne accompanied them on this trip. On the homestead he and the neighbors prepared to fight the Indians in the early day of the country and the sod house for years was called the "Old Stone Fort." They later built a one and a half story frame house that still was still standing in 1953. Before the railroad came to Wilsonville, he freighted goods with his team and wagon from Kearney to Wilsonville.
Grandmother (Olive Marie) Stone endured all the hardships of pioneer life. She reared eleven children and was noted for her hospitality. During her last illness she was carried in a chair to the parlor to have the family picture taken. Nine children were in that picture and the pictures of the two who had passed on.
Grandfather's 100th birthday was celebrated by inviting all the children and families to spend the day with him. Seven families were represented. About 80 relatives and friends were there. Less than three months later he passed away.
The last three years of his life was spent in a wheelchair. His mind was alert to the last. Most any time of the day you could hear him singing the old songs of the church. He was a Free Methodist.
In 1919 he married Mrs. Pricilla Rhamy, who passed away in 1927.
In 1935 he married Anna Hepler and she lived in Beavever City, Nebraska. 11 children
The Turnidge family began their westward movement from the time they entered the northeast part of North Carolina. They continued west as the opportunity arose, or the land was cleared. Now they are on the west coast in Oregon, Washington and California. Some have not stopped there. They have gone into Alaska and also, they have gone across the ocean. Several have become missionaries overseas, and a few have been in the Peace Corps. The latest missionary is Trude Higbee who went into Taiwan Mission in November of 1979. She is the granddaughter of Bessie Turnidge Higbee of Stanwood, Washington. Bessie is the fifth generation from Michael Turnidge.
In the early 1700's the name was spelled either Turnidge or Turnedge. Perhaps the i's often were written with a loop, and became e's. But soon spelling became a big problem. Education was not always the best, and also, people did not hear the name correctly. So it was spelled in many ways, especially on courthouse records of that early day. Finally by about 1727 the name had settled down to one one spelling, Turnage. At least this was the way the court house records were spelling it. So, this became the acceptable spelling for the Turnage family. Perhaps all the family didn't want to give up on the original spelling, but it seemed to be the best thing to do at the time.
The Turnage's were beginning to move into the central part (but was perhaps then the western part) of North Carolina. As new territory opened up, Turnages were pushing west.
Michael Turnage, by the beginning of the new century, was thinking of going into new territories out of North Carolina. He was, perhaps, thinking of the original spelling of the name, and was concerned why it was changed. We don't know the time he left with his family, or the time the name was changed back, but he went into Tennessee for several years, then on into Missouri, which was not a state.
By 1816, Elder William Turnidge, the Village Preacher of Bluffton, was a circuit rider, in the little village of Bluffton, Missouri. The town is now called Camden. The town overlooks the raging Missouri River. Elder William Turnidge was the oldest son of Michael Turnidge, who now lived across the river in Lillard Co., Missouri (now known as Lafeyette Co., Missouri).
The spelling of the name was still a problem. The census records and county records were still spelling the name wrong. It was spelled Tonnage, Tunage, and also Turnage. For about 50 years Turnidge family fought to keep the name spelled correctly.
Sometime after the Civil War, the Turnidge family had a long talk. Should we go back to the North Carolina spelling? Of course, there were differences of opinion. By this time, three of the sons of Elder William Turnidge had died. Jesse Calvin had been killed in the Civil War. Jospeh Warren and Harrison had died as early pioneers in Oregon. Elder John T. was soon to go into southern Missouri, and later into Oregon. Elder William Turnidge was elderly.
So, some of the Turnidge family remaining in Missouri at that time, decided to definitely change the name back to the spelling as it was before 1800, Turnage. Elder John Turnidge and his brother's families left the spelling as it was.
For the Turnidges in Oregon, or the Turnidges who had left Oregon, the spelling has remained to this day. I have only come in contact with one Turnidge family that were not from this Oregon group. They said they were direct from England.
My father often said that one of his great-grandfathers (either William Turnidge or his father Michael Turnidge. Michael Turnidge was the son of Joseph Turnage, killed in the Revolutionary War.) changed the name back to the original spelling. He liked that spelling. But I think both names should be cherished. Both names are a part of our heritage. The problems of name were only some of the problems the pioneers went through. our Turnidge-Turnage family helped make America great! Soon we will b e entering a new century. Let's be a strong family group to help keep it that way!" by Helen Turnidge Stover "A good name is rather to be chosen that great riches." Proverbs 22:1a
Fred Hunter and Nellie Turnage became engaged on December 19, 1924. They were married on Sunday, June 20, 1926 at 3 in the afternoon at Nellie's parents (Mr. and Mrs. John Turnage) home in Byers, Colorado. Fred and Nellie belonged to the First Baptist church of Deer Trail, Colorado. Their pastor, Rev. LaGrand, performed the ceremony.
Nellie is, "the youngest daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Turnage, and is widely known for her cheerfulness and sunshiny face. She is a great love maker among her friends."
She wore a white silk crepe trimmed in shadow lace and ribbon, white silk hose and kid slippers, and wore a necklace of imported pearl beads.
The newspaper article said that Fred is the son of Mrs. Cora Hunter of Bartley, Nebraska (no mention of his father - he must have died already). He was described as being, "a fine young man of this community and is also loved by his friends for his fine gentlemanly ways. He is a man of good character and Christian ways." He wore a suit of "real dark brown."
The front room of the house was decorated with, "the most beautiful flowers, while an arch stood in front of a big window trimmed in blue and pink crepe paper and esparagrrass, and on the curtain just behind the bride and groom was a picture of the Guardian Angel."
Mrs. Milton Turnage played the wedding march. Mr. James Singleton was the best man, and Miss Mae Miller was bride's maid. They had 62 guests present, and cake and ice cream after the ceremony.
They left the following morning for a honeymoon trip to Denver. Nellie wrote that they went to, "Denver, Colorado on June 21 in the afternoon of the same day our picture was taken, and later to a theater. On Tuesday we visited the museum by the capitol building with Bro. Milton. Later to Kresses store and purchased many needed articles. To a restaurant for our noon day meal, and then to a theater. In the afternoon late we returned home and was schivereed by a party of young friends from Byers, Colorado."
She wrote this prayer in the back of her bridal book, "Memories of the day that made us as one when we were united in the Holy Bonds of Matrimony can never be forgotten. May God our Father lead us onward and upward thru a life of love and happiness. Together for the rest of the days we live on earth, and help us that we may ever be united in heaven thru a long eternity where peace abideth forever and sorrow never comes. Amen"
They made their home on a farm north of Byers where Fred farmed.
<< Expand to ReadMore Prayers for Paul from His Mother Nellie
Dear Lord,
Grant that this little baby may grow to pure clean manhood a blessing to all who loves him a joy in himself.
Help that he may make himself useful to mankind and choose a profession of honesty and helpfulness to humanity.
Keep him strong, straight in body and thoughts, and make him noble. We ask it in Jesus name. Amen
In an envelope with a note on the outside - For Paul when he is old enough to read it and understand. "Paul it has always been one of my hopes and ambitions that you and James would someday be great physicians and surgeons and help relieve some of the pains of suffering humanity especially the pains of women. But son I will not urge you to be a doctor if you have other ambitions. But, dear whatever you choose to be, let it be honest. If you grow to be as good a man as your daddy I will be proud of you." Mother
<< Expand to ReadPrayer Nellie Wrote For Son Paul Before Her Death
Paul,
Heaven protect thee thou innocent one!
The way of life is rough and thorny and often may its flinty rocks wound thy onward treading feet, and its sharp thrones pierce thy hand so eagerly extended to pluck its tempting fruits.
Gather up thy strength for the battle of life thou child of many prayers, for it shall prove to be a severe conflict. Be bold, be steadfast, be patient, be trustful, be truthful and God shall bear thee nobly thru the struggle.
I envision, Grandma Nellie would have written a letter like this to my dad if she could have:
January, 1937
Dear Paul,
There are times when being a sensitive soul is a curse for those of us endowed with tender temperaments feel life deeply. When I held you in my arms for the first time, looked at your tiny face, and felt your skin, soft and smooth beneath my touch, I thanked God for the depth of mother love. I knew in that moment that forever and always my heart belonged to you.
When you said momma for the very first time, the tentacles of you wrapped even tighter around my heart. I thought it would burst with pride that you knew my name, and that I belonged to you. Your first steps brought a smile to my eyes, and a prayer to my lips, “Oh, God, my son will take many steps before he walks through the eastern gate of heaven, please be his constant guide. May his feet lead him in paths of righteousness, away from evil, into obedience to Your will.”
Ah, yes, the joys of a sensitive soul. But, tonight I know the deep sorrow that sensitivity brings. For, my heart is troubled, and my imaginings for your tomorrows are filled with sorrow. You see, tiny son, I sense in my spirit that soon I will leave to enter eternity. Next week, next month, perhaps in the spring . . . I’m certain I will not live to see the beginning of another year. Heaven’s sounding sweeter every day. If it were not for leaving your father, Fred, and you and your brother, Jim, I would go home today so great is the pain in my body. But, I have you, and I am willing to endure the anguish of illness, if it means being with you.
You’ll weep, dear Paul, when I am gone - you will not understand. Four is much too young to lose your mother. Jim is only seven. Oh, how much I love you. I don’t understand. I’ve begged God for a few more years - for time to see you grow into manhood. You may be angry that He’s taken me home - but, try to remember that the Father knows what’s best.
I’m trying to remember that tonight, but it’s very, very hard. The Father knows what’s best, but who will care for my babies? Your father will make certain that you have food, and water, clothing, and a bed. But, son, there are needs that you will have that I wanted to take care of for myself. I wanted to come to you when you cried out in the night. I wanted to wipe your tears, and to soothe your skinned knees. I wanted to hold you, and to teach you how to pray. I wanted to teach you about life, and to prepare you for love. Now, it seems that another will perform that sacred role. I pray that God will send you another mother, but don’t forget the one who gave you birth.
I’m crying now, my words blurring beneath my pen. It’s been a good life, son, I can’t complain, but it’s been much too short.
I remember when I pledged my love to your daddy, Fred on June 20, 1926. You were just a dream then. Your daddy was three years my senior, and not much taller than I, but he was my hero. I was only nineteen, but fancied myself to be a grown woman. Standing there beside him, I felt like a queen - me in my simple, white cotton gown, and he in his worn, Sunday-best suit. It wasn’t fancy, but I didn’t care. We had each other, and vowed that we would face tomorrow together.
I know I’ve told you many times, “Son, don’t ever break a promise.“ So forgive me, dear, for breaking mine. I'm not well. The doctor says it’s my heart. Maybe one day you will grow up, and learn to care for the sicknesses of women like your mother. Whatever you choose to do with your life, son, do it with integrity.
Life hasn’t been easy for your momma. I’ve lived through three economic depressions in my brief lifetime: 1907-08, 1920-21, 1929-33. I was only a baby during the first, but I was a youngster of 13 during the second. I was so afraid, and was certain I would never live to marry, or be a mother. It was a sad time, but a good time for it was then that I came to personal faith in Jesus Christ. Though life was still hard, after that I had peace. I folded His promise to my heart, “I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.” And, he hasn’t.
I was a young momma during the third depression having given birth to your brother, Jim and three years later to you. My faith was solid, but many nights I lay awake wondering if we would survive. As long as the cow didn’t go dry, I knew I’d have milk for you, but beyond that I was never sure. “Give us this day our daily bread,” was my constant prayer.
We’ve had three great years, though there's talk that another depression is surely headed our way. I can’t even entertain thoughts such as those. If I’m not here, who will care for you?
You won’t read this letter for a long time to come - perhaps not until you are a man. I pray my life has not been lived in vain. I pray that I will leave my mark on this world in some small way. That somehow I will leave a legacy that will pass down to my children, and they to theirs.
I read today in Hebrews 12:1, “Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance, and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith . . .“ Maybe God will let me watch from heaven, son. If he does, I will cheer you on. I will watch my tiny son become a giant of a man.
You will be a giant of a man, whatever your stature, if you come to faith in Jesus Christ. Don’t be afraid, son, whatever tomorrow brings. We have a great Heavenly Father who will care for you. One day, when your work on earth is done, He will bring you home to me. Look for me, Paul. I‘ll be waiting for you just inside the eastern gate.
Nellie Evelana Turnage Hunter. I am 55 years old, so why is it that I suddenly have this need to talk to a grandmother I have never known?
Grandpa was born on December 8, 1904 - almost a Christmas baby. You were born in the late fall, on October 28, 1907. If you and Grandpa had lived you would celebrate your 83rd anniversary this year. You would be 101 and Grandpa would be 104. Over a century old. You would be amazed at the changes a century has brought.
I have a picture of you and Grandpa Fred Edwin Hunter. I framed it years ago and look at whenever I need to see your face. It is my favorite of the few I have of you. The picture was taken on your wedding day, June 20, 1926. He was 21, and you were only 19 when you wed.
Though it’s faded with the passing of time, the picture is still clear. You are standing beside your sweetheart in your simple wedding dress. You were lovely, and he was handsome. You had each other, and you were in love.
I think I know why I need you now. Life has thrown some curve balls, and I am facing with my mom some of the struggles you faced so many years ago when your own health took a downturn. Dad and Mom have both had their battles with cancer. Tomorrow my mom has tests to see about her heart and we don’t know what the outcome will be. How did you do it? How did you face an uncertain future with such courage? I guess I need to know who this mother was that left my father so soon, yet impacted his life so profoundly.
Your eldest son Jim was 7 years and 7 months old, and my dad, Paul, was 4 years and 8 months old when you died. They were just little boys. Dad remembers the last time he saw you. You were in the back of an ambulance waving goodbye. You were being taken to St. Luke’s hospital suffering with heart problems of one kind or another. Did you know how sick you were? Did you know in your mother-heart that it would be the last time you saw Fred, Jim and Paul? You died early in the spring of 1937, on April the 4th at 29 years of age, just 6 months shy of your 30th birthday. Your death came 2 months and 16 days short of granddad's 31st birthday.
Even though he was very young, my dad has a memory of your funeral. Not long ago he, my mom and I took a trip down memory lane, ending in front of the Baptist church where your funeral was held in Byers, Colorado. Dad recalled for us how difficult that day was. He remembers sitting on the front pew feeling very sad. At some point he turned and glanced at the woman behind him. She smiled and for years dad was angry at her for having the audacity to show happiness at your funeral. It wasn't until many years later that he realized she smiled because she was being kind. It wasn't an "I'm happy" smile - it was a "Honey, my heart is breaking for you, what will you do without a mother?" smile.
Grandpa Fred became a newly widowed father of two young sons. Not only was he grieving, but he was faced with yet another economic depression this time without you at his side. He must have felt so overwhelmed, afraid and alone.
According to history, the United States experienced four economic depressions during your brief lifetime: 1907-08, 1920-21, 1929-33, and 1937-38. You were just a baby during the first. A young teen of 13 and 14 during the second. You were a young momma during the third depression having given birth to your firstborn son, Jim and then to my father, Paul. Did you lie awake at night wondering if you would survive? How you were going to feed your babies? If they had a tomorrow to look forward to?
I've read some of your writings and can't help but wonder if facing difficult days was key to your strong faith in God. Thankfully, you had four short years before the third and fourth depression when the country was once again thrown into the throes of economic instability. The final depression occurred in 1937. Had it already begun by the time you left home? If so, that must have added to your anguish when you left for the hospital that day. You lived through the worst of the great depression, only to die of heart problems. Sometimes life doesn't seem fair.
How I wish you lived today. The wonders of modern medicine could have healed your broken body, I know it could have. It’s amazing what they can do with medication and surgery these days.
You lived such a short life. Did you ever wonder if you would leave a mark on your world? You did, you know. I know (again from your writings) that you were a sensitive soul, that you felt things deeply. I guess I'm cut from your mold.
Thank you for the legacy you handed down to our family, to me. I know so little, but I know that you loved your God, you loved your children, and you loved to write. Me too, me too, me too.
You would be proud of your son, my dad. Hebrews 12:1 talks about witnesses, “Therefore, since we have so great a could of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumberance, and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith . . .“ I don’t know why, but it makes me wonder if you are in the crowd, cheering him on. Surely, the Father has told you all about your tiny son who became a giant of a man.
I don’t know a lot about heaven, certainly not as much as you now know. I’m hoping God will tell you all the things I’m writing here. Heaven’s getting sweeter all the time as my investment there grows. Did you know that you have two great-grandbabies there? I bet you do and that they know you and Granddad as well. That gives me comfort.
You’d like for my dad to be with you wouldn’t you? You'd like to finally meet the woman who has faithfully loved him these many years, huh? One day, but not just yet Grandma Nellie. I really need them for awhile longer.
From the picture, I can see that you were a slight woman, but I bet you could give a great hug.
