Way To Go, You Are Correct!!!!

Sorry, I neglected to congratulate April for being the only person to correctly identify the Great Grandma. Good Job!

AND THE ANSWER IS. . . . . .

I guess it's not as obvious to everyone else.......

The correct answer is #5 Jenness Mary Heywood

Names of everyone in the picture are as follows:
1) Evelyn Afton Heywood (AKA Grandma Bean)
2) Donna Heywood (AKA Aunt Donna)
3) Marion Heywood (AKA Aunt Marion)
4) Your guess is as good as mine (I think she is a cousin.)
5) Jenness Mary Heywood (AKA my grand children's Great Grandma)

The Gene Pool Runs Deep!

Today's post will put your obsivation skills to the test.

This picture was taken in 1924.

Can you tell which girl in the picture is Micah Kline's

Great Grandma?

Choose person 1, 2, 3 or 4 (left to right across the front), or person 5 (standing in back).

Post your vote as a comment, then check back tomorrow evening to see if you were correct.

In The Navy. . . . WWI and WWII

Picture and history lesson for the day.............


My father, Oliver Harvey Conner, was born November 1, 1900. Yes, he was almost 54 when I was born. He lived on a farm with his mother, siblings and a step-father, with whom he did not get along. I think he is the source of all the strong, stubborn, opinionated blood that runs through our veins.



At the age of 10 he ran away from home and at the young age of 14 he lyed about his age and joined the Navy. World War I (also known as the First World War, the Great War, and the War to End All Wars; abbreviated WWI) was a global war which took place primarily in Europe from 1914 to 1918. Over 40 million casualties resulted, including approximately 20 million military and civilian deaths.





This is where I wish I had written down stories while he was alive. I think he shoveled coal into the engines in the belly of the battleship. I know that during WWII he was a machinest in the navy.





Oliver was not one to stay anywhere for long, unless of course he had a family to tend to. All together he was married 9 times, many of which ended in divorce, and a few of which passed away. This man's life was not easy. His first wife died of teberculosis, leavng him with a small daughter to drag from one coast to the other, and back again.

This photograph is of my Aunt Connie (on the left), my dad's sister. The woman on the right is my sister Winnifred. I think she was a nurse in one of the armed services. She lived in Los Angeles, close to an area called Chinatown. I can remember going to visit her, going out to dinner to a Chinese restaurant call "YeHung Goois" (not sure of the spelling). The room where we ate was upstairs, so we had to climb a flight of old wooden stairs. The first thing served was Egg Drop Soup, eaten with the traditional oriental spoon. The soup was so hot that I would sip it down the handle to let it cool. This was as delicious to me at that age as the Sizzling Rice soup from Yen Ching is today.

I always got to sit by the window and watch the activities below. There were always street vendors selling puppets, and other oriental trinkets. But, my favorite were the little tiny monkey's that walked along the street with the "organ grinder". The monkeys had on brightly colored satin hats and vests, and shorts. The organ grinder had them on a leather leach, and if you stood real still with a penny in your hand, the monkey would come up to you, take the penny out of your hand at the same time tickling your palm with his little tiny fingers, then run back and place the penny in a tin cup. The entire time the organ grinder was playing his metallic, sing-song music box.

I know that a few times I actually spent the night at Winnifred's house. I took naps until I was 6 or 7, sucked my left pointer finger, and had a very special "Blankie". One of the times I stayed with Winnifred, my blankie didn't make it home with me. I've always wondered if the whole thing was planned to break me of my "security blanket".

I'll share more memories soon........ I love you all and can't wait to see you in Torrey.

Oh Give Me A Home, Where The . . . . . . .

Approx 1952-53

Address: 4308 Boyar Ave., Long Beach, CA

Telephone # GA-45445

This was the home that my family lived in when I was born. In May of 1955, when I was 9 months old, my mother Jenness died of a heart attack. They did not do an autopsy, but she had been to the doctor a few days prior with swollen ankles and other symptoms. So, I guess in retrospect, they just assumed it was a heart attack. Anyway, our family was on a Sunday afternoon drive when one minute she was alive, and the next she was dead. I can't tell you how blessed I feel to not have any memory of the entire event. I know that my siblings still deal with the emotional trauma of what they witnessed, first hand, that day.


At the time of her death Mother had 5 children between the ages 9 months to 16 years, and was the Relief Society President in her ward. Through the years I have met people that knew her. It made me feel good to have them say, "Oh, you're Jenness Conner's little baby girl? I knew and loved Jenness, she was fun, smart, compassionate, and always busy doing something for someone in the ward or her neighborhood. We missed her so much."

(I don't know if I've ever actually written down that event before, and I don't know that I ever will again.)


At this point I went to live with my Aunt Evelyn, Uncle Albert, and Cousin Nan. Over night I had a new Mother, Father, and Sister. At least they were my new family for the next two and a half years. About the time that I was 3 yrs old, my father Oliver, married a woman named LaWanda. (Pictures of Wanda to be posted in a future blog.)

So, back I went to live with my #1 family. I remember Wanda fondly, I'm sure she liked me and was extra nice to me because I was so young. I do know that the rest of my siblings did not like her much. I feel bad for Wanda, could you imagine walking into the shattered lives of 5 children and try to take the place of their mother.

I say, Good Luck, to the brave women who try.....

When I was 7 yrs old my father and Wanda got divorced. So, yep, you guessed it, I went back to live with my family #2. Interestingly enough, I don't remember these moves as being traumatic or unusual. It was just part of what I did. Didn't everyone have two complete families? It was like going to the closet and deciding what pair of shoes to wear that day.

Everyone did it, right.....

This next picture is my father, Oliver (Chuck) (back left), my mother Jenness (back right), my brother Raymond (bottom left), Grandma Davies my father's mother (bottom center), and my brother William (Bill) (bottom right).

The photo was taken right outside the back door of the house (first photo) and they are standing right in from of a bougainvillea bush that to me was the most beautiful plant, in the most incredibly dark pink color I have ever seen. It's possible this very bush is the reason I love gardens and flowers so much. Being southern California, it bloomed almost year round and covered the entire back corner of our house. Even as a little child I can remember having the sight of it just take my breath away.

I can close my eyes and still walk through that house and picture the furniture, wallpaper, fireplace, bedrooms, the fabric curtains that hung over our closet instead of closet doors in my bedroom (I shared with Rikki), the clothes dryer that we had to pop open with a dinner knife to get the warm clothes out. The bathroom floor was tile.

One evening a friend from the ward called and invited me to a sleep over. My Dad said that I could go but only after I took a bath. Off I ran, down the hall and into the bathroom where the floor was damp from someones earlier bath. Down I went, hitting my chin on the edge of the tub. Instead of a sleep over at a friends house, I went to the emergency room for stitches in my chin.



The kitchen was a world of wonder to me. When the dishes were washed, one of my brothers or sisters would line up the kitchen chairs so that I could take a clean dish, dry it with a cloth, then walk on the chairs to the proper cupboard and put it away. I felt so grown up and important. I also remember learning how to spell my name, memorize my address and telephone number, and have what I thought were wonderful chit-chats while drying the dishes and walking around the kitchen on those chairs. They put me in a magical place, I was as big as everyone else in the house, I learned wonderful things and became part of such grown up conversations when I stood up there.


Well, I've made this blog post long enough....... I've got so much more to share, the more I write, the more memories flood through my head. Sorry if I meander from memory to memory, or story to story. I hope it is more interesting than confusing or boring.


I love you all, more than all the stars in the sky...........

I'll Try Again Another Day

Okay, my first hurdle in "blogging". I uploaded a picture of the house where my family lived when I was born and a picture of some of my family. Included were a little history and memories of living in that house. I previewed the post and found that the placement of the picture screwed up the spacing of the narrative around it. So, in my attempt to make adjustments in hopes of making it readable, something has gone wrong. The program will no longer allow me to upload pictures. I'm hoping that tomorrow the issue will have corrected itself. I've saved the text of the post for future posting, including pictures.



So, for now all you get is a quick update of today's chemo experience....oh, yippy!

Today was the beginning of my 3rd round of chemo, it went a little longer than I expected, and they discovered that the chemo has destroyed the majority of my red blood cells. You see, chemo isn't very smart, not only does it destroy bad cells, it also goes after and kills the good ones also. So, tomorrow morning I go to he hospital at 8:30am to receive a blood transfusion. I'll do this for 4 hours, then go to my doctor's office (right next door to the hospital) for my regular chemo treatment. Tomorrow will be another very-very long day, so I think my pillow and I will have some deep bonding time Tuesday night. That's the update in a nut shell.....

Remember, I love you Tons and Bunches!!!!! (Torrey Here We Come!)

Why This Blog

My intention for this blog is to share old pictures that may introduce you to some of your ancestors and memories from my growing-up years. Nothing fancy, just a way to let you know who and what has contributed to the creation of "Mom, Grandma, Lisa, Albert's Wife, The Mother Person, Me".

Yep, that's me June 1955, not quite a year old.