| Nancy's Genealogy Site: My G-Grandfather's Attic |
| My Other Sites: Whispers Old New Orleans |
| Pages are cross-indexed under names and locations below. |
| These pages are dedicated to the many family researchers whose kindness and generosity have helped me knock down so many brick walls. |
| My father and mother, Archie Lee Jackson and Nancy Florelle Garrett Jackson. My mom departed this life in 2003, my dad in 1991. They are still missed. |
| Aunt Flora & Aunt Lola |
Many fellow researchers and family members have contributed and been involved in the search for the
information contained on these pages. Though every care has been taken to insure its accuracy, you
should always make an effort to verify information through your own research efforts.
The material on these pages may not be copied, altered, converted or uploaded to any electronic system; or
re-published in any form, without written permission of the website owner. It may not be transferred, copied
or donated to any pay-per-view site. It may not be linked in such a manner as to appear to be an internal
part of another site, including, but not limited to, frame capturing. It may not be included in any software
collection or print collection of any kind without written permission from the website owner.
information contained on these pages. Though every care has been taken to insure its accuracy, you
should always make an effort to verify information through your own research efforts.
The material on these pages may not be copied, altered, converted or uploaded to any electronic system; or
re-published in any form, without written permission of the website owner. It may not be transferred, copied
or donated to any pay-per-view site. It may not be linked in such a manner as to appear to be an internal
part of another site, including, but not limited to, frame capturing. It may not be included in any software
collection or print collection of any kind without written permission from the website owner.
When I see the land now, I can almost smell the biscuits baking and the coffee
brewing. I could swear I hear Aunt Lola calling out a greeting from the front
porch, "Come on in and put your feet up for a spell.....the dumplings are
cooking and Flora's about to make a blackberry pie." It's my imagination, of
course. Or maybe, it's the soft breeze, carrying long-ago voices through the
tall pines and over the tops of the magnolia trees.....through the open doors
of a house that's no longer there.
But I can go back. And I do. Time after time. In my mind and in my
heart.....in my memories of those lovely family get-togethers and those
magical afternoons spent in my g-grandfather's attic.
Welcome! Won't you come in and sit a spell? Nancy Brister
brewing. I could swear I hear Aunt Lola calling out a greeting from the front
porch, "Come on in and put your feet up for a spell.....the dumplings are
cooking and Flora's about to make a blackberry pie." It's my imagination, of
course. Or maybe, it's the soft breeze, carrying long-ago voices through the
tall pines and over the tops of the magnolia trees.....through the open doors
of a house that's no longer there.
But I can go back. And I do. Time after time. In my mind and in my
heart.....in my memories of those lovely family get-togethers and those
magical afternoons spent in my g-grandfather's attic.
Welcome! Won't you come in and sit a spell? Nancy Brister
...
| My cousin, Ruth Hancock, who was, also, my Godmother, passed away July 8, 2010. She is dearly missed. |
When I was a child, there was no place more magical to me than the treasure-filled attic of my g-grandfather,
Josiah Garrett. The house was located between the villages of Perth and Union Church, in Jefferson County,
MS, about three hours north of New Orleans, Louisiana, where I grew up. Josiah was no longer living by then,
but his two daughters, Lola Gibson and Flora Dawkins, were in residence. Even as a child, I wouldn't have
traded a day in that wonderful old house for a week at Disney World!
It was built in 1847 by my 2-g-grandparents, Isaac and Abba Ann Warren Garrett, who raised their family and
lived out their lives there, as did Josiah and Flora Carmichael Garrett. The house had once been used as a
post office and stopping point for mail riders, who sometimes stayed overnight in the attic. It was called
Scotland Post Office, in honor of the many citizens who'd migrated from North Carolina, where their Scottish
parents had settled upon their arrival in America.
The attic was still filled with remnants of the exciting days when the early Mississippi Territory was just
opening up. Trunks overflowed with 100-year-old clothing. My cousins and I would go through the trunks, try
on the clothes, look through the old books and newspapers. When we were finally persuaded to join the
family downstairs, everyone would gather and listen to Aunt Lola talk about times long past. She would show
us the small holes in the exterior walls, left open so that rifles could be inserted in case of Indian attack. She
would tell us stories about her childhood, the all-day camp meetings and how young people courted by going
on a buggy ride, chaperoned by one of their parents. Her stories were as magical as the attic.
Sadly, the old home is no longer there.....the treasures in the attic either scattered or discarded. The walls
that reverberated with the laughter of five generations of Garrett children have been torn down. The old
floorboards, where Abba Ann walked and paced and prayed---for the children when they were ill, for strength
when Isaac died and for a way to feed her family when times grew hard---the floorboards are gone, they no
longer echo with the long-ago sounds of Abba Ann's steps.
Josiah Garrett. The house was located between the villages of Perth and Union Church, in Jefferson County,
MS, about three hours north of New Orleans, Louisiana, where I grew up. Josiah was no longer living by then,
but his two daughters, Lola Gibson and Flora Dawkins, were in residence. Even as a child, I wouldn't have
traded a day in that wonderful old house for a week at Disney World!
It was built in 1847 by my 2-g-grandparents, Isaac and Abba Ann Warren Garrett, who raised their family and
lived out their lives there, as did Josiah and Flora Carmichael Garrett. The house had once been used as a
post office and stopping point for mail riders, who sometimes stayed overnight in the attic. It was called
Scotland Post Office, in honor of the many citizens who'd migrated from North Carolina, where their Scottish
parents had settled upon their arrival in America.
The attic was still filled with remnants of the exciting days when the early Mississippi Territory was just
opening up. Trunks overflowed with 100-year-old clothing. My cousins and I would go through the trunks, try
on the clothes, look through the old books and newspapers. When we were finally persuaded to join the
family downstairs, everyone would gather and listen to Aunt Lola talk about times long past. She would show
us the small holes in the exterior walls, left open so that rifles could be inserted in case of Indian attack. She
would tell us stories about her childhood, the all-day camp meetings and how young people courted by going
on a buggy ride, chaperoned by one of their parents. Her stories were as magical as the attic.
Sadly, the old home is no longer there.....the treasures in the attic either scattered or discarded. The walls
that reverberated with the laughter of five generations of Garrett children have been torn down. The old
floorboards, where Abba Ann walked and paced and prayed---for the children when they were ill, for strength
when Isaac died and for a way to feed her family when times grew hard---the floorboards are gone, they no
longer echo with the long-ago sounds of Abba Ann's steps.
| The link to this site is: http://old-new-orleans.com |