Thursday, July 16, 2015

Time to Make Memories

San Luis Valley, genealogy, grandma, kick the can, Colorado

My summers as a child were spent with family. We fished, we camped and vacationed together. Most years included a trip to visit our cousins in Colorado. Oh how we loved our time with our grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins.

In the evenings we would gather together either at grandma's house or at one of my aunt and uncle's homes. Other evenings we would head to the mountains where we would roast hot dogs and load our plates with all kinds of delicious salads and side dishes. No one ever went hungry.

Some summers we visited my uncles' saw mill in the mountains. Knowing full well that we would itch the rest of the night, we would nonetheless climb the mountain of saw dust, our feet burning as they sunk deep within the hot dust. We loved the mountains where the air was cool and crisp and the smell of pine was strong.

Whether in the mountains or at one of their homes the kids would run and play while the adults visited. Kick the can, capture the flag and games we created with our own imagination filled our time.

It was there in the summers that I tried without success to chew pine gum. Supposedly if you suck on the sap from a pine tree long enough, it softens and you can chew it like gum. Although I tried it every year, I never was patient enough and would always end up with the bitter stuff broken up in bits and stuck to my teeth.

It was there that I learned to ride a tote gote and later learned to drive a pickup over the back roads of the farm.  We hunted for worms to take fishing and walked the fence around my grandma's house.

It was there that I learned to love carrots and fresh peas. We would stand in my aunt's garden and pull up the sweet carrots, wash them with a hose and eat them right there. But as much as I loved the carrots, I really loved the garden peas and I still do.

It was there one summer that my cousin taught me how to make cat tail torches. We dipped cat tails (the plant) in gasoline and lit them on fire. Just as he had promised, they made the perfect torch. As the fire died out, we tossed the torch aside and dipped the next cat tail in the gas and lit it. Imagine our surprise when we turned around to discover one of their outbuildings on fire! We ran for the porch where we grabbed the milking buckets and the hose and managed to get the fire out. The charred black scar on the building served as a reminder of our foolishness for years to come.

We rode horses, floated down the canal on inner tubes, went swimming at Splash Land and ate snow cones. To this day blue raspberry snow cones are an essential part of my summer.

Summers were a magical time when we strengthened family relationships and made memories. I am so thankful for those special cherished memories.

Now I am the grandma and it is to my house that the kids and grandkids gather. I hope that someday they will look back at summers and remember how much fun we had together. With that in mind, I am going to take a break in blogging for a few weeks to spend time with family and make some memories (hopefully minus the torches!)

See you next month!

Copyright © Michelle G. Taggart 2015, All rights reserved

Wednesday, July 1, 2015

Love without Boundaries -Minnie Ganus, part 3

Minnie Diggs. She was born a Ganus, yet no one was quite sure why she was remembered as Minnie Diggs. Maybe it was her maternal grandmother's name they told me, or maybe just a nickname of some sorts. I could think of several possibilities, so I tucked the name Diggs in the back of my mind until I knew for certain. 

I wanted to believe that although she had a rough start, Minnie Ganus had ultimately had a good life. I wanted to believe that after her grandmother took her in at three years of age (a story shared HERE) she loved her and cared for her as her own, and I wanted to believe that, although her grandmother was certainly "older" when Minnie came to live with her, it had been good for them both. I wanted to know so much more than any governmental record could tell me. However, records did tell a great deal of her story. 

I was able to learn that Minnie remained with her grandmother until the 19th of November, 1890 when in Campbell County, Georgia 20 year old Minnie Ganus married John Hewell Diggs.  I now knew why she was called Minnie Diggs. Apparently someone at some point in time had been aware of Minnie's marriage although time had blurred that fact. By the time Minnie married, her grandmother Nancy Foster was 73 years old and had cared for Minnie for about 17 years.

Grandma Nancy Foster lived another 15 years after Minnie married John. While she lived the remainder of her life with her son Willis and daughter, Mary, Minnie and her husband John and their children lived nearby. Nancy would live long enough to know four of Minnie's children before she died on 13 March 1905. Nancy was buried in the Fairburn City Cemetery in Fulton County, Georgia.

Nancy Elizabeth Foster, Campbell County Georgia, Family History, Genealogy, Ancestry, Find A Grave
Nancy E. Foster's Headstone
Photo taken by Rhonda Brady Rampy, Used by permission
Find A Grave
John and Minnie [Ganus] Diggs lived their entire married lives in East Point, on the outskirts of Atlanta. There John farmed and together he and Minnie reared seven children; four boys and three girls. Their children were John C., Joseph E., Mary Jewell, Jamie, Herbert O., Velma Elizabeth and Alice Louise . Minnie was able to see their oldest children marry and have their own children, but her three youngest would have time with their mother cut short. 

On the 21 March 1921, at the age of 50, Minnie passed from this life leaving 9 year old Alice, 14 year old Velma, and 16 year old Herbert without their mother. According to the death certificate, her cause of death was consumption, which we now call tuberculosis. 

Her death certificate helped to fill in a few details of her life and death.

Minnie Ganus Diggs, FamilySearch, genealogy, family history, Georgia, Fulton County
Minnie Digg's Death Certificate [2]

Seeing her father listed as "Bud" Gainous made me wonder if either she and her husband had known him well enough to know his nickname or if perhaps they hadn't really known him at all and Bud was just a guess. I've never seen him referred to as Bud, but always as James. Minnie was buried in the Bethel Church Cemetery in Fulton County, Georgia.

Minnie received a brief mention in the newspaper, The Atlanta Constitution, on 22 March 1921. It simply stated:
"Mrs. J. H. Diggs, 50 years old, died Sunday at the residence in East Point.  She is survived by four sons, J.C., J.E., J.F. and H.O. Diggs and three daughters, Mrs. H.D. Eidson and Misses Elizabeth and Lucile Diggs." [2]

Initially this was Minnie's story. The story of a little girl who lost her mother when she was only three years old and was raised by her grandmother Nancy Elizabeth Foster. Minnie married, had children and then, like her mother, she died much too young. Minnie left three children to be reared by another woman, a step-mother. 

But as I learned about Minnie, I realized that in the shadows of her story was another story, the story of her widowed grandmother, Nancy Foster. The grandmother who undoubtedly lived a very different life than she had planned. Long after her own children were grown, Nancy returned to the role of a young mother, changing diapers, bandaging skinned knees and raising her granddaughter through marriage. 

Truthfully, there are many such women in my line; women who helped raise grandchildren as well as nieces, nephews or even seemingly unrelated children. My great grandfather's brother, Roderick Monroe Ganus and his wife, Carrie, took several children into their home over the years, including my own grandfather. Two Chance boys were taken in and reared by John Monroe Ganus' brother, Addison Ganus and his wife Sally.

While thankfully there are records of these stories, I am sure there are just as many similar unrecorded stories in my line and possibly yours. Mothers and grandmothers who dutifully took in other's laundry, prepared extra meals, and helped with each other's children. Mothers whose love and duties extended beyond the boundaries of their immediate families to bless and help those around them. Mothers whose love knew no boundaries; mothers helping mothers.

Copyright © Michelle G. Taggart 2015, All rights reserved


1. Georgia Deaths, 1914-1927; Death Certificate dated 21 March 1921; digital images, Image 1016 of 1525 (  accessed 24 June 2015.)

2.  Atlanta Constitution, 22 March 1921, page 12, Fold3, . Accessed on 24 June 2015.