September 18, 2017

Hi All,

I just found this Obituary of my mother so thought I would share it with you.

OBITUARY OF MILDRED HELEN CARL COOK

Mildred Carl Cook

Daily World, The (Aberdeen, WA) | 30 January 2013

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(1918 – 2013)

Mildred Carl Cook was born to Henry and Elfrieda (Momm) Carl. Mildred "Millie" grew up in Irvington , Neptune and Hanover, New Jersey. She studied at Miami University for a year and at the Berkley Secretarial School. Returning from her work in Newark, New Jersey, on the bus, the Sunday School Superintendent at Hanover's First Presbyterian Church invited Mildred to a service. Soon she became part of The Young People's Group which was already known as "Mrs. Cook's Matrimonial Club". It "worked" for Mildred and Mrs. Cook's son, F. Seymour Cook. The couple married in 1939. They lived in the home Seymour's father built in 1910 in which they raised their three daughters, Ellen, Phyllis and Jean. Mildred was very active in the Presbyterian Church; directing Vacation Bible School, teaching and being Sunday School Superintendent and founding the Harvest Festival and Fair. She also was a founder of the local PTA and chaperoned numerous dances and school activities.

Mildred worked for the E. Hanover Township School District, Nabisco and other places, using her phenomenal office skills. She was known as a "crackerjack secretary". Mildred and Seymour "retired" to a home in Branchburg, New Jersey in 1986. They had been married for 59 years at his death in 1998.

In 2004, Mildred moved to Hoquiam, Washington, to live near her daughter, Ellen and her family. The Martha Circle and Saron Evangelical Lutheran Church became her new Church home.

Mrs. Cook's daughters are Phyllis (David) James of Arizona, M. Jean (Darwin) Rygg, Jr. of Utah, and Ellen (Bill) Pickell of Washington. Grandchildren are Timothy (Kris) Hainley, Stephanie (Garrett) Castle, Erica (Sean) Hollen, Jennifer (Daryl) Horne, D. Maury (Neisha) Rygg, III, Ellis (Merri) Rygg, Rebecca (Ben) Jensen, and Jon (Deborah) Rygg. Her great-grandchildren number 17. Grandchildren, Nichole James and Peter Hainley; as well as her sister, Doris Speaker; brother, Robert Carl; and step-sister, Gladys Parker preceded her in death.

Memorials can be sent to the First Presbyterian Church, 14 Hanover Road, East Hanover, New Jersey 07936.

A memorial service will be held at 2:00 p.m. on Saturday, February 2, 2013, at the Saron Lutheran Church in Hoquiam. A graveside service will be held at a later date in Hanover, New Jersey.

Arrangements are through Coleman Mortuary in Hoquiam, Washington.

Please take a few moments to record your thoughts for the family by signing the online guest register at www.colemanmortuary.net.

Copyright, 2013, The Daily World, Aberdeen WA

United States, GenealogyBank Obituaries, 1980-2014

Affiliate Name	NewsBank, Inc.
Digital Folder Number	101188259
Image Number	00162

POSTED 18 September 2017 by Jean

Several of us gathered in Washington DC a week ago today for the funeral of Richard Speaker.  He was burried with military honors in Arlington National Cemetery on September 11, 2017.  The following family members gathered in his honor: Isolda - his wife, Ruth Speaker Sloan - his sister, Billy Parker - his brother by Nana's (our maternal grandmother Elfrieda Momm Allgor), Francine Speaker and her mother Gloria Miller Speaker (Robert Speaker's first wife and mother of Francine  Speaker - Niece of Richard), and myself (M. Jean Cook Rygg - Richard's youngest 1st cousin) and my husband Darwin Rygg.

Memories of the Shore as told by Ruth Speaker Sloan and Billy F. Parker

Ruth is talking:

Okay we went to the baby parade which was an event every summer in Asbury Park and Joan and Billy and Lois and I Ruth were going to ride the bus down to the boardwalk. Louis and I were told by our mom that we should ride the bus down and we should ride the bus back and should not to talk to anyone else on the way. So the four of us were standing at the bus stop which was 2 blocks from our house and some neighbors of Joan and Billy’s grandparents came along and they said “hi kids, where you going” and we said to the baby parade and they said well we will give you a ride down and save you the bus fare so we said okay and all four got in the car and we went to the baby parade and had our extra dime or whatever it was to ride the bus and had a wonderful time and took the bus home. When we got home our mother knew that we had taken a ride with somebody and even though it was people we knew we were not supposed to and we were all in big trouble

Billy is talking:

When we lived on Wayside Road there was a path in the woods across from our house all the way from Wayside Road over to aunt Doris's and I used to use that path all the time. I guess it was about a mile to go over to their house and my uncle used to set rabbit traps along this path. On my way over to Aunt Doris’s I would check the traps and if there were any rabbits trapped I would either snap their neck to kill them or if they were dead I would release them from the trap and set them on the side of the path to pick up on my way home. My grandmother at times would say well if you're going over there to Doris's here's a bucket, pick some blackberries on your way over and bring them back and I'll make blackberry dumplings. I have to say, they were the most delicious dessert you could ever have. Sure do miss my Grandmother.

Grandma Parker used to make the Blackberry dumplings and they were to die for, and Aunt Doris used to make them also. There were blackberry bushes all over the place so that's where we got our blackberry’s from.

Ruth is talking:

We used to get our rhubarb from plants growing by the garage and we also used to get rhubarb from our elementary school principal who gave Mom some for us.  I picked some rhubarb when I was in NJ this summer for myself and Leslie. I don't know if hers made it or not and she was looking for more when she was at the house this summer that we had right on the side of the house and my grandmother used to go out there and cut it off.

Billy is talking:

Right before I moved to Tennessee I want over to Wayside Road to take a picture of the old house and it was all modified to a modern type of house on the outside, but anyway the owners were sitting outside and I pulled into the driveway and introduced myself and told him that I was born and raised here. The guy said wow do I have a lot of questions to ask you. He asked if I had a few minutes and I said sure. He took me inside to show me the house and it was pretty much the same as when I lived there except they added on a living room in the back. He continued showing me the house and he said that in the basement where the furnace was it was all a dirt floor and they had put concrete for the floor. He wanted to show me and we went down there and when I lived there, we had a goat that we used to eat the all the grass so my grandfather did not have to cut the grass. As we were looking at the difference in the basement from when I lived there I looked over on the wall and there was this collar hanging on a nail, so I said that looks like the collar from the goat that we had and he says it is and he pulled it down to look at the tag on it and sure enough it was from our goat. He said they found it when they were putting the concrete down in the basement. He did not offer it to me and I was too embarrassed to ask for it but as far as I know it's still there. we had the goat back in the early forties.

Ruth is talking:

One of the things Ruth remembers about Wayside Road was the Rose of Sharon bushes in the yard and Elva had lots and lots of them.  And Aunt Gladys loved them and said when I have a daughter I'm going to name her Sharon and she did.

Billy is talking:

Grandpa Fred was a stationary engineer at Steinbeck's Dept. store. I always remember spending time with him and he always shared his skills with me and that's why I think that I ended up as a stationary engineer also plus an Associate degree in Mechanical Engineering mainly because of what I learned from my Grandpa Fred. And also my Grandpop Parker was very good with his hands in regard to woodworking and they taught me everything that I pretty much know now on how to use tools and so it was a great thing that I spent a lot of time with them and of their never ending patience.

Every time I went down to see Grandma Grandpa Allgor, she would always have Hershey’s ice cream for me. She always kept ice cream in the refrigerator if she knew I was coming.

Ruth is talking:

Everybody else in the family called my grandmother Allgor, “Grandma”. Our family called her “Nana”, because that's what we did in our family and everybody else did it differently, but all the men seem to be Grandpa and I remember one time when I was maybe 11 or 12 years old I was down at Nana and Grandpa Fred’s and we were having dinner and I remember Nana saying to me, “Ruthie you used to be such a nice little girl you used to help your mother so much with those little boys and now all you can do is say no and talk back to her and someday you'll thank me for telling you this” and so yes when I was about 45 years old I said thank you Nana you were telling me that I was growing up as a normal child.

Billy is talking:

I've got to say that this was in the early sixties and Grandma and Grandpa Fred came up for a visit when we lived in Irvington and grandma asked me, “Can you take your grandfather out and get him a haircut?”, so I said sure. I'm going to say he was in his eighties and so I took him for a haircut and on the way back we were walking past the Tara Bar. I told Grandpop that this was the local bar that Vera and I go with friends of ours. He said “I haven’t had a glass of beer in ages, sure would be nice to have one”. I said, “sure no problem, come on I’ll get you a beer”. As he was sitting drinking his glass of beer he spotted the cigar display behind the bar and said, “Billy I see those cigars and I sure would like to smoke one”. Again, I responded to his request and got him a cigar. Now he was sitting there drinking his beer and smoking his cigar and you could see he was a happy camper. When he got done with the cigar and snuffed it out we said goodbye and left. We were in the bar about 45 minutes and Grandma wanted to know why it took so long to get a haircut. My being the honest guy I am, I told her about our little side trip to the bar. Needless to say my Mom and Grandma were not happy. But hey Grandpop was.

I would say - By RUTH

Reunions were at the Speaker’s place, mom and dad would put on a family reunion every couple of years and then everybody on Speaker and Parker side of the family came. So we had people like The Parkers and all groups and the Staegers and others of my mom's cousins.  We had lots of food as it was a covered dish thing. We had watermelon and there were sack races, potato and egg races and there were all kinds of stuff and that was from our truck farm of about 7 to 8 acres..  My dad would load up the wagon with people and take a ride with our tractor pulling the wagon. So our place used to be called Speakers Seven Serene Acres or the house on the hill for the mentally ill.

By 11:45 we were on our way to Arlington Cemetery.  After some trial and error we arrived there.  We parked and went into a building where we were greeted by those on staff at the Cemetery.  They were very kind and professional.  Others gathered as well.  Gloria and Francine were there as well as a friend of Richard’s who served with him in Panama, along with his wife.  

This is a true story about one of our shoestring relatives. It is about Rhoda, wife to Bethuel Farrand, brother to my 7th great grandfather on Thomas Smith Cook's - Smith Line. The story takes place in the area in New Jersey where the Cooks and the Youngs, and the Harrisons are from. . . namely ParsippanyTroy Hills and surrounding areas. General Washington's troops were camped in what is now Jockey Hollow National Park, just outside of Morristown, New Jersey. Rhoda Smith Farrand - http://pookie-baby.tripod.com/id15.html RHODA FARRAND A POEM FROM THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR by Miss Eleanor A. Hunter

From "Historic Morristown, New Jersey":

The result of the heroic efforts of this patriotic woman, assisted by her not less patriotic daughters and son, was, that the stockings poured into the New Jersey camp down the Jockey Hollow road "in a perfect shower." From S.A. Farrand, one of the headmasters of the Newark (NJ) Academy, who, the writer is proud to say, is a grandson of the Rhoda Farrand of the poem quoted from, the writer learns that the poem is in the main historically correct.

The poem was written by Miss Eleanor A. Hunter, a great-granddaughter of Rhoda Farrand. In reply to the query of the present writer as to how she happened to write this patriotic poem, she says: "It was a story told me by my mother. She related it to me many times, and I never wearied of listening to it. She had heard it as a child from Grandmother Rhoda herself. One evening, after a visit to Morristown, my mother and I were talking about Revolutionary days and she told me the story once more. Suddenly the thought came to me: "What a good poem that would make." I retired to my room and put the story in rhyme then and there and brought it out and gave it to my mother." The poem, as already mentioned, was subsequently published.

Meanings of unfamiliar words used in poem:

*COSSET, noun [G., a house.] A lamb brought up by hand, or without the aid of the dam - (it's mother).

**MEED, noun

1. Reward; recompense; that which is bestowed or rendered in consideration of merit.

Thanks to men

Of noble minds is honorable meed

2. A gift or present. [Not used.]

Inspired by her Great Grandmother's story, Rhoda's Great-Granddaughter wrote this poem:
Ode to Rhoda Farrand In the last of these Centennial days, Let us sing a song, to a woman's praise; How she proved herself in that time of strife, Worthy of being a patriot's wife A little woman she was -- not young, But ready of wit and quick of tongue; One of the kind of which Solomon told; Setting their price above rubies and gold. A memory brave clings around her name. "Twas Rhoda Farrand, and worthy of fame. Though scarce she dreamed, 'twould be woven in rhymes, In these -- her grand-daughter's, daughter's times. Just out of the clamor of war's alarms, Lay in tranquil quiet the Jersey farms; And all of the produce in barn and shed By the lads and girls was harvested. For the winds of Winter with storm and chill Swept bitterly over each field and hill. Her husband was with the army, and she Was left on the farm at Parsippany, When she heard the sound of a horse's feet, And Marshall Doty rode up the street; Help used for a moment, and handed down A letter for Rhoda from Morristown, In her husband's hand -- how she seized the sheet; The children came running with eager feet; There was Nate and Betty, Hannah and Dan, To list to the letter, and thus it ran. After best greeting to children and wife; "Heart of his heart, and life of his life," I read from the paper, wrinkled and brown, "We are here for the Winter in Morristown, And a sorry sight are our men to-day, In tatters and rags with no sign of pay. As we marched to camp, if a man looked back, By the dropping blood he could trace our track; For scarcely a man has a decent shoe, And there's not a stocking the army through; So send us stockings as quick as you can, My company needs them, every man, And every man is a neighbor's lad, Tell this to their mothers; they need them bad." Then if ever before, beat Rhoda's heart, 'Twas time to be doing a woman's part. She turned to her daughters, Hannah and Bet; "Girls, each on your needles a stocking set, Get my cloak and hood; as for you, son Dan, Yoke up the steers just as quick as you can; Put a chair in the wagon, as you're alive, I will sit and knit, while you go and drive." They started at once on Whippany road, She knitting away while he held the goad. At Whippany village she stopped to call On the sisters Prudence and Mary Ball. She would not go in, she sat in her chair And read to the girls her letter from there. That was enough, for their brothers three Were in Lieutenant Farrand's Company. Then on Rhoda went, stopping here and there To rouse the neighbors from her old chair. Still while she was riding her fingers flew, And minute by minute the stocking grew. Across the country, so withered and brown, They drove till they come to Hanover town. There mellow and rich, lay the Smith's broad lands. With them she took dinner and warmed her hands. Next to Hanover Neck Dan turned the steers Where her cousins, the Kitchells had lived for years. With the Kitchels she supped, when homeward turned, While above her the stars like lanterns burned, And she stepped from her chair, helped by her son, With her first day's work and her stockings done. On Rockaway River, so bright and clear, The brown leaf skims in the Fall of the year. Around through the hills it curves like an arm, And holds in its clasp more than one bright farm. Through Rockaway Valley next day drove Dan; Boy though he was, he worked like a man. His mother behind him sat in her chair, Still knitting, but knitting another pair. They roused the valley, then drove through the gorge And stopped for a minute at Compton's forge. Then on to Boonton, and there they fed, While the letter was passed around and read. "Knit," said Rhoda to all, as fast as you can; Send the stockings to me, and my son Dan The first of the week will drive me down, And I'll take the stockings to Morristown." Then from Boonton home and set of sun She entered her house with her stockings done. On Thursday they knit from the morn til night, She and the girls, with all their might. When the yarn gave out they carded and spun And every day more stockings were done. When the wool was gone, then they killed a sheep A cosset* -- but nobody stopped to weep. They pulled the fleece, and they carded away And spun and knitted from night until day In all the country no woman would rest, But they knitted on like people, "possessed;" And Parson Condit expounded his views, On the Sabbath day unto empty pews, Except for a few stray lads who came And sat in the gallery, to save the name. On Monday morn at an early hour The stockings came in a perfect shower, A shower that lasted until the night; Black, brown and grey ones and mixed blue and white, There were pairs one hundred and thirty-three Long ones, remember, up to the knee; And the next day Rhoda carried them down In the old ox-wagon to Morristown. I hear like an echo the soldier's cheers For Rhoda and Dan, the wagon and steers, Growing wilder yet for the chief in command, While up at "Salute" to the brow flies each hand As Washington passes, desiring then to thank Mistress Farrand in the name of his men. But the words that her husband's lips let fall, 'I knew you would do it," were best of all. And I think in these Centennial days That she should be given her meed** of praise; And while we are singing of "Auld Lang Syne," Her name with the others deserves to shine.

Lindley G. Cook

(Born 18 November 1892 - Died 8 May 1986)

David E. Quinby married Sarah Louise Harrison, a niece of James Harrison, maternal grandfather of my grandmother Estelle DeHaven Young Cook.  He married Sarah Louise Harrison.