REMEMBERING GRANDMA
By Rita Manick
Yes, I remember Grandma. Those days of long ago come to mind as I remember you. The old dirt path leading from your house to our house. The way the dirt was packed down and smooth. The large holly tree in the middle of the path. It's blooms were white and bees came to enjoy the nectar. Those stick holly leaves that hurt little bare feet! The way you carried me through those leaves so many times.
Grandma, I remember the way your house looked. The simple, but clean look. The beaded ceiling and walls. Never painted just dark from the wood burning heater and age. The Calender picture on your wall wearing rags on his feet with a Musket gun in hand. It almost made me cry to see him hanging there.
Your kitchen with the old wood stove. Warming closet over the top where you kept your food warm. The homemade table with white linen cloth over your food, and the cupboard in the corner. I can still see the knife marks where it was carved from cherry. Those goo muffins you made in that little black pan. Those good smess that came from your kitchen. The way you always gave me something. You didn't have a refrigerator, so you cooked only what could be eaten that day..Your beds always had pretty spreads and pillow shams. Everything was so neat.
The many times I sat on your knee listeneing to stories you would tell me. The ones of Pa (John Carver) in the Civil War. The on of Pa and the robbers on the Unaka Mountain. The hard years! The rattlesnake biting you mother. The way your mother talked saying such things as "say he",and "say I". The panther and the wild hogs. The times of the log house and the tallow light. The hard ways of a pioneer people. A simple people, a people who came in the Mayflower. A stong people, a brave people, a people who made up a country called America. The way Pa loved his country. How he almost starved getting to the Army of his country. Eating corn from the house tracks. All the many stories I remember. His favorite song,"The Battle Hymn Of The Republic." The star he wore on his coat. The GAR meaning Grand Army of the Republic. I can see him now as he catches an eel from Mill Creek and ruins his pants from the slime of the eel. Grandma could make a story live. Something in her voice. I remember your deep faith. As you grow older, things of this world didn't interest you. Your old furniture would do just fine. You were going to a far better place where moth and dust wouldn't corrupt. When Helen(Movie Star) cried about your vision being bad, you wiped her tears from her face. Telling her not to cry you would see again someday. Remembering how you loved to hear the Katydids at night and see the lightening bugs. I remember your house dress of big bright flowers and ,and your one Sunday dress, a black dress.
Remember when you broke your hip that icy day when you went to feed the pig? How the doctor told Mama that you would never walk again because you were too old for surgery. Then, one day we saw you coming out the path with that orange and blue cane Max and Bob won for you at the carnival. Those nights you spent with us. All those sories you told us children around the little fire place. The way time seemed to stand still at the knee of Grandma.
I remember your kiss and how you got snuff on us sometimes. I remember all those special moments with you, my dearest Grandma. Grandma, I remember your pink roses with the good smell. The beauth of you white snowball bush, and the way the green vien climbed up your porch around the swing. I remember the green snake that would hide in the vine and when we came around he would lick hil little tougue out. I can see you cutting the grass in the yard with a butcher knife.
Grandma, you gave me so much. You gave me what money can't buy. You helped me make my childhood happy and complete. You taught me to appreciate the past, present and future. you helped instill within me a love of God and country. Your good advice stands the test of time as I reflect on the many things you taught me.
I recall with sadness when you went away, how empty the old house became, not a sound, Just dark and lonely. Grandma, I can still see the beautiful blooms on your apple tree in the backyard. Just pretty pink fresh blooms. I see the bird sitting up there singing. Grandma, I remember you in a very special way.
Your Loving Granddaughter, Rita
NOTE: Rita was the daughter of Mamie, the Granddaugher of Mary Dorthena Carver Williams Burnett.
When I was approximately 4 years old (1946-1947) my family was visiting great grandmother Mary Dorthena Carver Williams Burnett. The old home place is west of Old Fort, NC on old hwy 70 approximately a mile out of town, on the right side of the road, just after the 1st left steep curve.
Great grandmother ask me to come near her, and sit on her knee. "I'm going to tell you a story no one would ever be able to".
To give a true picture of this event, we were facing Old Hwy 70.
She waved her left arm wide explaining the area back toward Old Fort, was covered with invading, hostile, Catawba Indians. Great grandmother changed the knee I was sitting on, arms holding me, waving her right arm wide explaining the entire area on the right, toward Black Mt.,it was covered by Cherokee Indians.
The fear was evident to me, she was there, and saw this terrible war, as she explained her mother was scalped by the Catawba, thrown into a ditch, left for dead.
Great grandmother was in her mid 90's, when she told me this. I found out recently it was her mother's sister who was scalped instead of her mother, but look at the photo of her mother Rachel and it looks like the top of her head has bald spot, perhaps G/Grandmother Mary Dorthena was correct?
I asked her about the Catawba Indians, and she told me they were very mean. and she explained the Cherokee were the good Indians. It's evident from her photo, she had a lot of Indian heritage. Some family memebers have told me recently, the Cherokee blood line comes from the Cresawn family.
Great grandmother Mary Dorthena mentioned, as a child, being taken away, as a subject of the Cherokee Indian relocation program.
Roger Phillip Burnett
OTHER CHILDREN Of Alexander Burnett & Mary Dorthena
(1)Earnest Burnett
(2)William Burnett
By Rita Manick
Yes, I remember Grandma. Those days of long ago come to mind as I remember you. The old dirt path leading from your house to our house. The way the dirt was packed down and smooth. The large holly tree in the middle of the path. It's blooms were white and bees came to enjoy the nectar. Those stick holly leaves that hurt little bare feet! The way you carried me through those leaves so many times.
Grandma, I remember the way your house looked. The simple, but clean look. The beaded ceiling and walls. Never painted just dark from the wood burning heater and age. The Calender picture on your wall wearing rags on his feet with a Musket gun in hand. It almost made me cry to see him hanging there.
Your kitchen with the old wood stove. Warming closet over the top where you kept your food warm. The homemade table with white linen cloth over your food, and the cupboard in the corner. I can still see the knife marks where it was carved from cherry. Those goo muffins you made in that little black pan. Those good smess that came from your kitchen. The way you always gave me something. You didn't have a refrigerator, so you cooked only what could be eaten that day..Your beds always had pretty spreads and pillow shams. Everything was so neat.
The many times I sat on your knee listeneing to stories you would tell me. The ones of Pa (John Carver) in the Civil War. The on of Pa and the robbers on the Unaka Mountain. The hard years! The rattlesnake biting you mother. The way your mother talked saying such things as "say he",and "say I". The panther and the wild hogs. The times of the log house and the tallow light. The hard ways of a pioneer people. A simple people, a people who came in the Mayflower. A stong people, a brave people, a people who made up a country called America. The way Pa loved his country. How he almost starved getting to the Army of his country. Eating corn from the house tracks. All the many stories I remember. His favorite song,"The Battle Hymn Of The Republic." The star he wore on his coat. The GAR meaning Grand Army of the Republic. I can see him now as he catches an eel from Mill Creek and ruins his pants from the slime of the eel. Grandma could make a story live. Something in her voice. I remember your deep faith. As you grow older, things of this world didn't interest you. Your old furniture would do just fine. You were going to a far better place where moth and dust wouldn't corrupt. When Helen(Movie Star) cried about your vision being bad, you wiped her tears from her face. Telling her not to cry you would see again someday. Remembering how you loved to hear the Katydids at night and see the lightening bugs. I remember your house dress of big bright flowers and ,and your one Sunday dress, a black dress.
Remember when you broke your hip that icy day when you went to feed the pig? How the doctor told Mama that you would never walk again because you were too old for surgery. Then, one day we saw you coming out the path with that orange and blue cane Max and Bob won for you at the carnival. Those nights you spent with us. All those sories you told us children around the little fire place. The way time seemed to stand still at the knee of Grandma.
I remember your kiss and how you got snuff on us sometimes. I remember all those special moments with you, my dearest Grandma. Grandma, I remember your pink roses with the good smell. The beauth of you white snowball bush, and the way the green vien climbed up your porch around the swing. I remember the green snake that would hide in the vine and when we came around he would lick hil little tougue out. I can see you cutting the grass in the yard with a butcher knife.
Grandma, you gave me so much. You gave me what money can't buy. You helped me make my childhood happy and complete. You taught me to appreciate the past, present and future. you helped instill within me a love of God and country. Your good advice stands the test of time as I reflect on the many things you taught me.
I recall with sadness when you went away, how empty the old house became, not a sound, Just dark and lonely. Grandma, I can still see the beautiful blooms on your apple tree in the backyard. Just pretty pink fresh blooms. I see the bird sitting up there singing. Grandma, I remember you in a very special way.
Your Loving Granddaughter, Rita
NOTE: Rita was the daughter of Mamie, the Granddaugher of Mary Dorthena Carver Williams Burnett.
When I was approximately 4 years old (1946-1947) my family was visiting great grandmother Mary Dorthena Carver Williams Burnett. The old home place is west of Old Fort, NC on old hwy 70 approximately a mile out of town, on the right side of the road, just after the 1st left steep curve.
Great grandmother ask me to come near her, and sit on her knee. "I'm going to tell you a story no one would ever be able to".
To give a true picture of this event, we were facing Old Hwy 70.
She waved her left arm wide explaining the area back toward Old Fort, was covered with invading, hostile, Catawba Indians. Great grandmother changed the knee I was sitting on, arms holding me, waving her right arm wide explaining the entire area on the right, toward Black Mt.,it was covered by Cherokee Indians.
The fear was evident to me, she was there, and saw this terrible war, as she explained her mother was scalped by the Catawba, thrown into a ditch, left for dead.
Great grandmother was in her mid 90's, when she told me this. I found out recently it was her mother's sister who was scalped instead of her mother, but look at the photo of her mother Rachel and it looks like the top of her head has bald spot, perhaps G/Grandmother Mary Dorthena was correct?
I asked her about the Catawba Indians, and she told me they were very mean. and she explained the Cherokee were the good Indians. It's evident from her photo, she had a lot of Indian heritage. Some family memebers have told me recently, the Cherokee blood line comes from the Cresawn family.
Great grandmother Mary Dorthena mentioned, as a child, being taken away, as a subject of the Cherokee Indian relocation program.
Roger Phillip Burnett
OTHER CHILDREN Of Alexander Burnett & Mary Dorthena
(1)Earnest Burnett
(2)William Burnett
REMEMBERING GRANDMA
By Rita Manick
Yes, I remember Grandma. Those days of long ago come to mind as I remember you. The old dirt path leading from your house to our house. The way the dirt was packed down and smooth. The large holly tree in the middle of the path. It's blooms were white and bees came to enjoy the nectar. Those stick holly leaves that hurt little bare feet! The way you carried me through those leaves so many times.
Grandma, I remember the way your house looked. The simple, but clean look. The beaded ceiling and walls. Never painted just dark from the wood burning heater and age. The Calender picture on your wall wearing rags on his feet with a Musket gun in hand. It almost made me cry to see him hanging there.
Your kitchen with the old wood stove. Warming closet over the top where you kept your food warm. The homemade table with white linen cloth over your food, and the cupboard in the corner. I can still see the knife marks where it was carved from cherry. Those goo muffins you made in that little black pan. Those good smess that came from your kitchen. The way you always gave me something. You didn't have a refrigerator, so you cooked only what could be eaten that day..Your beds always had pretty spreads and pillow shams. Everything was so neat.
The many times I sat on your knee listeneing to stories you would tell me. The ones of Pa (John Carver) in the Civil War. The on of Pa and the robbers on the Unaka Mountain. The hard years! The rattlesnake biting you mother. The way your mother talked saying such things as "say he",and "say I". The panther and the wild hogs. The times of the log house and the tallow light. The hard ways of a pioneer people. A simple people, a people who came in the Mayflower. A stong people, a brave people, a people who made up a country called America. The way Pa loved his country. How he almost starved getting to the Army of his country. Eating corn from the house tracks. All the many stories I remember. His favorite song,"The Battle Hymn Of The Republic." The star he wore on his coat. The GAR meaning Grand Army of the Republic. I can see him now as he catches an eel from Mill Creek and ruins his pants from the slime of the eel. Grandma could make a story live. Something in her voice. I remember your deep faith. As you grow older, things of this world didn't interest you. Your old furniture would do just fine. You were going to a far better place where moth and dust wouldn't corrupt. When Helen(Movie Star) cried about your vision being bad, you wiped her tears from her face. Telling her not to cry you would see again someday. Remembering how you loved to hear the Katydids at night and see the lightening bugs. I remember your house dress of big bright flowers and ,and your one Sunday dress, a black dress.
Remember when you broke your hip that icy day when you went to feed the pig? How the doctor told Mama that you would never walk again because you were too old for surgery. Then, one day we saw you coming out the path with that orange and blue cane Max and Bob won for you at the carnival. Those nights you spent with us. All those sories you told us children around the little fire place. The way time seemed to stand still at the knee of Grandma.
I remember your kiss and how you got snuff on us sometimes. I remember all those special moments with you, my dearest Grandma. Grandma, I remember your pink roses with the good smell. The beauth of you white snowball bush, and the way the green vien climbed up your porch around the swing. I remember the green snake that would hide in the vine and when we came around he would lick hil little tougue out. I can see you cutting the grass in the yard with a butcher knife.
Grandma, you gave me so much. You gave me what money can't buy. You helped me make my childhood happy and complete. You taught me to appreciate the past, present and future. you helped instill within me a love of God and country. Your good advice stands the test of time as I reflect on the many things you taught me.
I recall with sadness when you went away, how empty the old house became, not a sound, Just dark and lonely. Grandma, I can still see the beautiful blooms on your apple tree in the backyard. Just pretty pink fresh blooms. I see the bird sitting up there singing. Grandma, I remember you in a very special way.
Your Loving Granddaughter, Rita
NOTE: Rita was the daughter of Mamie, the Granddaugher of Mary Dorthena Carver Williams Burnett.
When I was approximately 4 years old (1946-1947) my family was visiting great grandmother Mary Dorthena Carver Williams Burnett. The old home place is west of Old Fort, NC on old hwy 70 approximately a mile out of town, on the right side of the road, just after the 1st left steep curve.
Great grandmother ask me to come near her, and sit on her knee. "I'm going to tell you a story no one would ever be able to".
To give a true picture of this event, we were facing Old Hwy 70.
She waved her left arm wide explaining the area back toward Old Fort, was covered with invading, hostile, Catawba Indians. Great grandmother changed the knee I was sitting on, arms holding me, waving her right arm wide explaining the entire area on the right, toward Black Mt.,it was covered by Cherokee Indians.
The fear was evident to me, she was there, and saw this terrible war, as she explained her mother was scalped by the Catawba, thrown into a ditch, left for dead.
Great grandmother was in her mid 90's, when she told me this. I found out recently it was her mother's sister who was scalped instead of her mother, but look at the photo of her mother Rachel and it looks like the top of her head has bald spot, perhaps G/Grandmother Mary Dorthena was correct?
I asked her about the Catawba Indians, and she told me they were very mean. and she explained the Cherokee were the good Indians. It's evident from her photo, she had a lot of Indian heritage. Some family memebers have told me recently, the Cherokee blood line comes from the Cresawn family.
Great grandmother Mary Dorthena mentioned, as a child, being taken away, as a subject of the Cherokee Indian relocation program.
Roger Phillip Burnett
OTHER CHILDREN Of Alexander Burnett & Mary Dorthena
(1)Earnest Burnett
(2)William Burnett
By Rita Manick
Yes, I remember Grandma. Those days of long ago come to mind as I remember you. The old dirt path leading from your house to our house. The way the dirt was packed down and smooth. The large holly tree in the middle of the path. It's blooms were white and bees came to enjoy the nectar. Those stick holly leaves that hurt little bare feet! The way you carried me through those leaves so many times.
Grandma, I remember the way your house looked. The simple, but clean look. The beaded ceiling and walls. Never painted just dark from the wood burning heater and age. The Calender picture on your wall wearing rags on his feet with a Musket gun in hand. It almost made me cry to see him hanging there.
Your kitchen with the old wood stove. Warming closet over the top where you kept your food warm. The homemade table with white linen cloth over your food, and the cupboard in the corner. I can still see the knife marks where it was carved from cherry. Those goo muffins you made in that little black pan. Those good smess that came from your kitchen. The way you always gave me something. You didn't have a refrigerator, so you cooked only what could be eaten that day..Your beds always had pretty spreads and pillow shams. Everything was so neat.
The many times I sat on your knee listeneing to stories you would tell me. The ones of Pa (John Carver) in the Civil War. The on of Pa and the robbers on the Unaka Mountain. The hard years! The rattlesnake biting you mother. The way your mother talked saying such things as "say he",and "say I". The panther and the wild hogs. The times of the log house and the tallow light. The hard ways of a pioneer people. A simple people, a people who came in the Mayflower. A stong people, a brave people, a people who made up a country called America. The way Pa loved his country. How he almost starved getting to the Army of his country. Eating corn from the house tracks. All the many stories I remember. His favorite song,"The Battle Hymn Of The Republic." The star he wore on his coat. The GAR meaning Grand Army of the Republic. I can see him now as he catches an eel from Mill Creek and ruins his pants from the slime of the eel. Grandma could make a story live. Something in her voice. I remember your deep faith. As you grow older, things of this world didn't interest you. Your old furniture would do just fine. You were going to a far better place where moth and dust wouldn't corrupt. When Helen(Movie Star) cried about your vision being bad, you wiped her tears from her face. Telling her not to cry you would see again someday. Remembering how you loved to hear the Katydids at night and see the lightening bugs. I remember your house dress of big bright flowers and ,and your one Sunday dress, a black dress.
Remember when you broke your hip that icy day when you went to feed the pig? How the doctor told Mama that you would never walk again because you were too old for surgery. Then, one day we saw you coming out the path with that orange and blue cane Max and Bob won for you at the carnival. Those nights you spent with us. All those sories you told us children around the little fire place. The way time seemed to stand still at the knee of Grandma.
I remember your kiss and how you got snuff on us sometimes. I remember all those special moments with you, my dearest Grandma. Grandma, I remember your pink roses with the good smell. The beauth of you white snowball bush, and the way the green vien climbed up your porch around the swing. I remember the green snake that would hide in the vine and when we came around he would lick hil little tougue out. I can see you cutting the grass in the yard with a butcher knife.
Grandma, you gave me so much. You gave me what money can't buy. You helped me make my childhood happy and complete. You taught me to appreciate the past, present and future. you helped instill within me a love of God and country. Your good advice stands the test of time as I reflect on the many things you taught me.
I recall with sadness when you went away, how empty the old house became, not a sound, Just dark and lonely. Grandma, I can still see the beautiful blooms on your apple tree in the backyard. Just pretty pink fresh blooms. I see the bird sitting up there singing. Grandma, I remember you in a very special way.
Your Loving Granddaughter, Rita
NOTE: Rita was the daughter of Mamie, the Granddaugher of Mary Dorthena Carver Williams Burnett.
When I was approximately 4 years old (1946-1947) my family was visiting great grandmother Mary Dorthena Carver Williams Burnett. The old home place is west of Old Fort, NC on old hwy 70 approximately a mile out of town, on the right side of the road, just after the 1st left steep curve.
Great grandmother ask me to come near her, and sit on her knee. "I'm going to tell you a story no one would ever be able to".
To give a true picture of this event, we were facing Old Hwy 70.
She waved her left arm wide explaining the area back toward Old Fort, was covered with invading, hostile, Catawba Indians. Great grandmother changed the knee I was sitting on, arms holding me, waving her right arm wide explaining the entire area on the right, toward Black Mt.,it was covered by Cherokee Indians.
The fear was evident to me, she was there, and saw this terrible war, as she explained her mother was scalped by the Catawba, thrown into a ditch, left for dead.
Great grandmother was in her mid 90's, when she told me this. I found out recently it was her mother's sister who was scalped instead of her mother, but look at the photo of her mother Rachel and it looks like the top of her head has bald spot, perhaps G/Grandmother Mary Dorthena was correct?
I asked her about the Catawba Indians, and she told me they were very mean. and she explained the Cherokee were the good Indians. It's evident from her photo, she had a lot of Indian heritage. Some family memebers have told me recently, the Cherokee blood line comes from the Cresawn family.
Great grandmother Mary Dorthena mentioned, as a child, being taken away, as a subject of the Cherokee Indian relocation program.
Roger Phillip Burnett
OTHER CHILDREN Of Alexander Burnett & Mary Dorthena
(1)Earnest Burnett
(2)William Burnett
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