Hi to all and much love. Hope all of my readers are doing well.
I’m still not too well from all the problems I’ve had this whole year. My thyroid was a little on the high side, so the doctor gave me a lower does of medicine, and my vitamin B12 is low.
It may be causing me to feel so bad on the weak side, and my nerves are pretty bad.
I have to go have a shot every week for four weeks at first, then one each month to see if it is helping. Old age is creeping up fast. It sure has on my health, anyway.
My cousin Tannie came up from Ulvah Friday and cooked a good dinner while here. She brought vegetables and a big cabbage head and new potatoes and cakes she had already baked at home. She brought a hummingbird cake and banana cherry cake.
She is a good cook and the best friend I’ve ever had. She is 85 and I’m 86. She and my brother Jack Dempsey were born on the same day — May 18, 1931.
Jack has been dead for 57 years and died at the age of 28. I was a year older than they were. He was killed in Indiana in a motorcycle wreck. I was a year and five months older than they were. It’s hard to think of all those years that have passed by since he died.
My sister Georgia had twin babies on the July 17. My sister Judith had her daughter Sept. 29, and I had my third son on Dec. 9 of that year of 1959. It was a hard year.
Jack had two daughters and his wife left to live. They were young at that time, and now the mother, Mary Beatrice, and one of the daughters are gone, also. The oldest one is still living, but very sick with cancer. She lives somewhere in Florida.
Teresa Elaine is her name, and Peggy Darlene was 50 when she passed away with brain cancer. She lived in Oklahoma. We miss them all so much.
Jack loved his little girls and his wife, but he was a man that loved a fast life, fast cars and motorcycles. He went out on July 4, 1959 to a motorcycle race and five of his friends were with him. After the races they were on their way back home in Marion, Ind., when he wrecked and got killed.
Those men said he was holding onto a big truck, letting it pull him, and hit a bump in the highway and lost control of his bike, hit a big bridge, and died.
The Fourth of July is always a sad time for all of our family members. I always wonder what he would be now.
It is a sad time in our country at this time, too. The murders that are taking place and so many out of work, and the election news doesn’t seem right for the first time I can remember. They aren’t talking properly of what they need to help our country be a better place to live, they are fighting toward each other and not the main issues of our world today.
Lies, lies, and more lies against each other. It’s scary to be living in these days. I feel so helpless anymore.
I went to the doctor at Harlan Clinic and got a very strange sight when I had to use the bathroom. They had signs of both sexes and a wheelchair on both bathroom doors.
That is not right in my opinion. I don’t like that law at all and never will. It puts fear in your heart.
A young girl started to go in one and a man was coming out. She ran back into the waiting room saying, “I’m not going in there,” and the man said, “I thought I locked the door when I went in.”
They should leave our bathrooms like they were. It is shameful to know that our world is getting so weird and out of context.
We had two deaths near where I live this past week. Bryan Sprader Halcomb, who had been staying with Terry Halcomb on Ingram, fell and injured his head, which he had formerly hurt in a four-wheeler wreck a few years ago. He was a good person and all who knew him cared for him. He was 36 years old.
Then there was another man, Roy Wayne Fields of Somerset. He was from this area, though. He was 67 years old at his death. He lay in state at Kingscreek Church. Two of my very close friends went to his wake. I’m sorry I didn’t know him.
He had made his own casket like the people of years ago did. That was what he wanted, and he got his wish. It’s hard to see that kind of casket, but that was the way my grandparents were buried.
My uncle Denver Cornett was a casket maker. They were nice, too. They were lined on the inside with white material over bats of cotton, and the outside was usually black or a dark gray and had a nice pillow.
My Grandma Rachel Frazier Cornett died when I was still in high school. She was 68 years old. I loved her so much.
My Grandpa lived on to be 95 years old. He was blind for many years before his death. They made his casket, also. He was a good old man. They were my dad, Victor Cornett’s, parents. Dad was their eldest child.
He was born August 1, 1899. Grandpa was born in 1869. He was 10 years older than Grandma Rachel.
I had looked forward to coming to Whitesburg to see Lorie Morgan and to see the fireworks, but the weather turned bad and I decided to stay home.
My son Randy took me to Cumberland the night before. There were booths, and so many cars and people were out. We got a good place to park so we could see. Their park is so nice.
I hope all my cousins in Indiana are doing well, and also my friends who live there.
My brother Emory Cornett is in a nursing home in Marion, Ind. He has Parkinson’s disease and isn’t doing too well. I haven’t been able to go see him.
I love him so much. He is 83 years old and had worked at Ford Motors for 42 years before he retired. That is where my other brother, Jack, worked before got killed.
So, I’ll say good night and go take this to The Eagle office.