Marguerite Rachel Floyd & her father, Lafayette Maxwell Alexander
This is the continuation from the post I did on Wednesday, March 15, 2017 about Amy Susan Floyd Loftis. Amy’s daughter, Daisy, my Mamaw, told me that her mother had a child before she married my great-grandfather, Jasper Guy ‘Jack’ Loftis in 1917. That child, a daughter, was named Margaret Floyd, and she was born April 14, 1914 in Crittenden County, Kentucky in her grandparents’ home. Amy and her daughter Margaret, lived with Amy’s parents until January of 1917 when Amy married Jack Loftis. Margaret stayed with her grandparents, John and Anna Floyd.
Like my previous post stated I did not know until the mid-1980’s that my Mamaw Loftis, had a daughter before she had my Mamaw. Margaret and Daisy were 3 years apart in age. Mamaw said she was probably 11 or 12 years old before she even knew that Margaret was her sister and not just another one of her cousins. Mamaw had also heard that Margaret had married Curtis Rushing, 1910-1959, a local boy, but she had heard nothing about her since that time, she just knew that they had left Kentucky, but she did not know where they had gone.
Mamaw had ask me to see if I could find Margaret and their other sister Mae, who had both left town and probably the state sometime in the late 1930’s or so. I told you about Mae in the previous post, finding her in Florida in 1990 and it was just six days later I found Margaret up in Illinois in a suburb of Chicago, called Arlington Heights.
I had been looking for both woman for the same amount of time. I had previously ordered a phone book for Crittenden County, Kentucky and it had arrived a day or two after the SSDI CD’s. Since I did not have any luck finding Margaret or Curtis in the Social Security Death Index like I had with James Moreland, I looked up the Rushing surname in the phone book and figured I would call everyone in it until I found someone who might have known Curtis and Margaret. There were only 15 or so Rushing’s listed, so I started with the first one. Everyone I talked to was very friendly, most had no clue who I was talking about, they were all younger though, so that could have been the reason. Finally, I believe it was the ninth or tenth person I called, it was an older woman, I ask her the same question I had ask all the others and she said, “Why yes I knew them”.
Mrs. Rushing was the sweetest person, she told me she was 90 something, I don’t remember now how old exactly, but she said if she stayed as healthy as she was now she wouldn’t mind sticking around to 100. We chatted for a while, she was a real talker, right up my alley for sure. Anyway, I finally steered her back to what I had called for and she told me that Curtis had been dead for years, but she thought Margaret was still living. I ask if she knew who I could call to find out more and she said well Curtis had a brother in the nursing home there in town and a granddaughter of hers worked there and she would call her and see if she could get a phone number or something for me and then she would call me back. Wow, my heart started racing again, I knew I was on the right trail!
The next morning Mrs. Rushing called me back and she started talking again and was telling me about her grandkids and a lot of other things, but she finally got around to telling me she had what I was looking for. She gave me Curtis Rushing’s baby sisters name and phone number. She also told me that Margaret was living up by Chicago, but her brother-in-law didn’t have her number, that is why he had given just his sisters phone number, he said she would have it. I thanked Mrs. Rushing over and over a few times and she said, “Give me a call any time, she had enjoyed talking to me”.
It had just been four days now since I had found Mae. I dialed the number for Helen, baby sister to Curtis and when she answered I told her who I was looking for. My heart was pumping like crazy, because she said yes, Margaret was still living and lived up by her brother, Spencer who kept an eye on her. She told me Curtis had, had a heart attack when he was still young and died one morning right after he walked out the door headed to work. Marguerite hadn’t even closed the door yet when he fell. That was in 1959 and she never remarried, nor did they have any children. Helen told me that Marguerite held a grudge against her family and she wasn’t sure she would want to talk to me. I told her how my Mamaw had wanted me to find her and how Margaret’s mother had always wondered what ever happen to her as well. After I said that, then Helen relaxed a little. She told me to give her my phone number and she would call her brother, Spencer and see what he thought. If Spencer thought, it was a good idea then he would pass my phone number on to Margaret and have her call me.
This reunion was not going to be as easy as the one just a few days before had been. The next afternoon Helen called me back and said Spencer had talked to Margaret and she was willing to talk to me and she would call when she was ready. That didn’t sound to promising, but there was nothing I could do about it but wait. This was the fifth day since I had found Mae in Florida.
On the sixth day, in the evening, I got the call I was waiting for. Margaret was on the other end of the line. She asks me why exactly was I looking for her and what did I want from her??? I told her how my Mamaw had wanted me to not only find her, but their younger sister, who had also disappeared and that I had been looking for both since about 1985 and that I had found Mae just 6 days previously in Florida. I told her Mae had left because her Dad would not let her get married. Margaret told me she had left because she did not think anyone loved her, especially her Mother, and she said that her mother’s husband, Jack Loftis, did not want her around at all. She told me that after her grandfather, John Floyd died, she decided it was time to break all ties and that is what she did. John Floyd had died in 1937, Margaret’s grandmother, Anna had died in 1919 just three months’ shy of Margaret’s fifth birthday.
I told her that I thought her name was Margaret as that is what my Mamaw called her and she said yes it was, but after she left, she did not want something so plain and common and she wanted a middle name too, so she chose Marguerite Rachel, because that sounded a little higher class then what she had grown up with. She told me she was always trying to better herself and trying to put behind her the feelings she had grown up with of being abandoned, not wanted or loved. Here was a grown woman 76 years old who had never felt like anyone loved her or wanted her, except her husband and he had died and left her too. Aunt Marguerite asks for my Mamaw’s phone number and address and told me that in a few days she would call her and talk to her.
Aunt Marguerite told me that she had a lot to think about and she had more questions she wanted to ask me, but she needed to rest and she said she would call me back when she was ready. I wondered as we ended our conversation if I would ever hear from her again, she had conveniently not given me her phone number or address, even though I had asked for it a couple of times during our conversation.
I called my Mamaw again just like I had six days before and told her I had found Marguerite. The funny thing is and I forgot to mention this in my last post, but my Uncle Guy was at Mamaw’s house when I called the first time and he had answered the phone. He said, “Mom has a sister named Mae”? Now here I am calling again and Uncle Guy answers the phone again and I say I found Marguerite too. I wish I could have seen his face, because his voice sure sounded confused. Uncle Guy didn’t know about either one of them. My Mom knew because I had talked to her about it, but none of her other siblings had any idea.
Aunt Marguerite called my Mamaw a few days later like she said she would and then she called me back about a week after our first conversation. Then for the next couple of months she called almost every week with more questions. She did give me her phone number and address the second time she called, but said that she would call me when she was ready again. Soon though, she gave me permission to call her if I wanted to at any time. After that either she or myself would call at least once a month, sometimes more and just talk and she always had questions about someone she remembered in her family.
The following is just one of the stories that Aunt Marguerite told me that I will never forget. This story is about when Anna Susan Davis Floyd died on a very cold, icy, wintery morning in January of 1919. Aunt Marguerite was not quite five years old, but she followed her Ma everywhere. Ma was the name all of Anna’s grandchildren called her. Pa and Uncle Luther had left the day before to go dig wells over in Illinois and were going to be gone three or four days. Marguerite and Ma got up early like always and while Ma stoked the stove, Marguerite ate a cold biscuit. They would have a hot breakfast after the chores were done. They fed the chickens, slopped the hogs and then went in the barn and put the old milk cow in her stall so Ma could milk her. Uncle Luther usually did the milking when he was home, but if he was busy or gone Ma always did.
Ma got the stool and set down and patted the old cow on her flank and then told Marguerite to go and get a fleck of hay to feed the cow. Marguerite ran to get the hay, but when she got back Ma was lying beside the stool. The cow thankfully was just standing there eating the hay that Marguerite had just given her a few moments before. Marguerite just thought her Ma was sleeping and so she tried to wake her up, but Ma didn’t wake up and so Marguerite laid down beside her because she was getting cold by this time. Soon Marguerite tried again to wake Ma and she still was asleep, so she went in the house and got an old quilt off the bed and took it out to the barn and covered up Ma and herself and laid back down and fell asleep. When she woke up she tried again, she knew something was wrong but in her little mind at that time she did not want to think something bad, so she just kept thinking Ma is asleep that’s all!!!
Marguerite said she went in the house and got something to eat. There were always cold biscuits, or food in the pantry that she could get to. She had never lit a fire before so she didn’t try to do that, but soon the old stove was just as cold as could be and would not get her warm anymore. She got more blankets out of the house and took them out to the barn and covered Ma up some more. She said for two whole days she laid beside her grandmother, hoping and wishing that she would wake up, knowing that she probably wasn’t going to.
At the beginning of the fourth day of being gone, Pa and Uncle Luther got back. There was no smoke coming from the chimney, the barn door was open and they could hear the cow mooing rather loudly. Uncle Luther ran for the house and Pa ran to the barn. What he saw about made his old heart stop. There was his wife and granddaughter laying under a pile of quilts and he could detect no moment. Uncle Luther got there about that time and Pa told him to run in and get a fire going in the house. Pa raised the blankets up and in so doing, Marguerite woke up. She was very cold and Pa realized then that his wife, Anna, was dead. He wrapped Marguerite in one of the blankets and carried her into the house and set her by the stove. Pa sent Uncle Luther for help and they buried Anna the next day.
I cannot imagine the horror for that little girl, lying beside her grandmother for two full days, cold and alone and soon to feeling even more alone when she starts getting passed around from family to family. My heart aches for her to this day, every time I think about some of the things that she had to endured.
The following picture taken in 1950, is probably one of the youngest pictures I have of Margaret who was now married and going by the name, Marguerite Rachel Rushing. Crazy thing my third daughter is named Rachel, for one of my husband’s great-grandmothers and I started looking for Aunt Marguerite shortly after she was born in 1984. Aunt Marguerite is the one that told me that her grandma, Anna Susan Davis Floyd, looked just like my daughter, Rachel. I think my daughter, Rachel favors Aunt Marguerite in this picture some.
Aunt Marguerite didn’t have a whole lot of pictures of herself or of Curtis, I think it was for the following reason. They were married February 17, 1940 in Owensboro, Daviess County, Kentucky she was 25 and Curtis was 29. She told me that she and Curtis, had both decided, before they were even married, that neither one wanted any children. Curtis was the oldest of twelve kids that he had helped to support and Marguerite didn’t know who part of her family was. So, they both decided not to bring any children into the mix. Why have pictures if you didn’t have anybody to pass them on too??? The following is one of the very few pictures I have of Curtis Rushing, he was a handsome man for sure.
It was probably the third time if I remember correctly that Aunt Marguerite called, that she asks the following question. Do you know who my Daddy was? I am 77 years old and I have never known who my father was, can you answer that question? I had wondered if or when she would ask and so I had asked Mamaw if she knew who he might have been. Mamaw said that she had never heard his name and that all she had ever heard was that he had drowned. However, she did not know when he had drowned or where. So, that is what I told Aunt Marguerite.
Aunt Marguerite told me, “well if you found me, then maybe you can find him too”. She said she could remember as a child also hearing that he had drowned, but if she would ask anyone after hearing that all she got was smacked and told she didn’t need to be asking such questions. She said another time she had done something and she heard one of the Aunts say, she acts just like an Alexander. So, she asks them is that my Daddy’s name and again she was smacked. Other than hearing that he had drowned, and that his name may have been Alexander she did not know anything else. Aunt Marguerite told me from then on she would set quietly and stay out of the way, but she was always listening hoping someone would say something else about her Daddy, but she never heard more then what she had already told me. From what she had heard she had assumed that he had died either before she was born or shortly after, if the drowning story was true that is, and Mamaw agreed, she seem to remember hearing something about him dying around the time Marguerite was born as well.
I was on the hunt again! My Mamaw Loftis had lived in Crittenden County, Kentucky all her growing up years. So, I figured Crittenden County was likely where Aunt Marguerite’s Daddy was from too. Well there were quite a few people with the first name Alexander in the county and there were also several people with the surname of Alexander. I was born in Crittenden County too and I know the area very well, the county borders on the Ohio River and there are other smaller rivers, streams, ponds and lakes nearby, so as you can guess there have been a lot of drownings over the years.
Since there were so many Alexander names floating around, I decided to order some of the old newspapers from Crittenden County that are on microfilm and that you can buy from the Margaret King Library at the University of Kentucky in Lexington. The Crittenden Press has been publishing their paper in Crittenden County since 1876. I decided that since Aunt Marguerite was born April 14, 1914 that I would look at the papers that covered nine months before she was born and a year after she was born.
It took about 2 weeks to get the newspapers I had ordered and thankfully I had an old microfilm reader I had bought and so I could set down at the reader any time I wanted and go through those newspapers. There were no indexes and so it was page by page and it was a weekly paper, so it was a slow process, but in that process I ran across obituaries, marriage and birth announcements for other family members that I did not have and some other cool information as well. It was not a waste of time! I was finding all kinds of drownings, young boys, old men, men around the age of my Mamaw Loftis, but none that fit what I thought I was looking for. It took a few months to go through those papers. I had started by looking in the papers after Aunt Marguerite was born, but there was no one that even came close to what I could assume might be the one I was looking for.
So, I started back before Marguerite was born with the month of July since my Mamaw Loftis would have gotten pregnant about that time. I went through all of July and I was almost finished with the month of August 1913, when my heart about stopped and the goose bumps got a mile high on my arms. A front-page story appears that makes me cry, it is from the Crittenden Record-Press in Marion, Kentucky in the issue dated Thursday, August 28, 1913. This following is just a small part of that article; it took up one whole column. “Accidentally Drowns - Lafe Alexander, a Marion Boy, Meets his Death at Cave-in-Rock - Last Thursday night at 8 o'clock just as the gasoline boat of Richard McConnell, his brother-in-law, was preparing to land for the night, Lafe Alexander was accidentally thrown overboard in some way that will never be known. He was sitting on the bow, and as the stage plank was projecting out in the way, he volunteered to put it up on the deck and in doing so lost his balance and fell into the water in front of the swift moving boat, and was swept under it in an instant. Lafayette Maxwell Alexander was born July 7, 1893, and was therefore in his 21st year.”
I just knew this was who I was looking for and that he was Aunt Marguerite’s father. Now, all I had to do was prove it!!!
I did not tell Aunt Marguerite or Mamaw what I had found, I did not want to get their hopes up. I called Aunt Marguerite and she ask if I had, had any luck yet and I answer not anything I am sure of. I ask her to call Aunt Sarah, I had already called Mamaw and ask her to call Aunt Sarah as well. I wanted them to ask her again if she knew the name of Aunt Marguerite’s father and I didn’t want them to know the name I had found. Aunt Sarah lived in Terra Haute, Indiana Mamaw was in Kentucky and Marguerite was in Illinois and I was out in Arizona. They both had been calling her and asking, but she would just steer the conversation somewhere else each time. Aunt Marguerite told me that she was going to start calling her every day until she got the answers she was looking for!!!
I knew bits and pieces of the following story from my Mamaw and from things that Aunt Marguerite remembered as well. But it was Aunt Sarah, Mamaw Loftis’ baby sister, that finally told the whole story, though it took quite a few phone calls to get it out of her. I had tried, Mamaw had tired and Aunt Marguerite called her almost every day and Aunt Sarah kept asking why we all needed to know what happened so many years ago. We kept telling her that everyone involved was long dead and it wasn’t going to hurt anyone. Aunt Sarah was the only person still alive that would have known who he was and what we were asking about.
Finally, at least a couple of months or more after I had found that newspaper article, Aunt Sarah finally talked and it was Aunt Marguerite she first told it to. “All right, all right”, Aunt Sarah had said to Aunt Marguerite, “I will tell you if you want to know that bad”. The following is just what I was told by Aunt Marguerite after Aunt Sarah finally told her who her Daddy was. Remember I had not told anyone about the newspaper article I had found a couple of months or so before.
Aunt Sarah said, “I was just a young girl, but I remember that Amy was so much in love with him. That is all she talked about, but for some reason Daddy didn’t like him and so they mostly went out behind Daddy’s back. Anyway, Daddy came home one evening after being in town and said everyone was talking about how he had drowned in the river the night before. He said he just like that and Amy went running out of the house and out to the barn. I remember Mama going out to talk to her and she finally came back in and her eyes were all red and swollen from crying. Seems like she cried for weeks and then she realized she was pregnant and started crying again. We didn’t talk about things like that much back in those days, but I know Daddy was sure upset and gave her a hard time. There at first he was talking about sending her off somewhere, but Mama put her foot down and said no she was staying right there! So, Daddy stopped talking about it. Soon you were born and Amy just cried and cried that day, saying she wished your Daddy could have been here to see you born and how much he would have loved you.”
Aunt Sarah had still not said what his name was, but Aunt Marguerite was sure enjoying hearing about how her parents, had loved each other. She had been told lots of things over the years as a child, like he was married and they had an affair, it was just a one night stand, things like that told to a little girl. I still can’t imagine doing that to a child and it had left a lot of scars on Aunt Marguerite’s heart and soul.
Again, Aunt Marguerite had said, “Could you tell me his name, please?” and Aunt Sarah said, “If you want to know that bad, I guess I can”. Aunt Sarah was real quiet and then she said, “He drowned in the river over by Cave-in-Rock, he was working on his brother’s boat and his last name was Alexander, but I will have to think on his first name”. She went on talking for a few more minutes and then suddenly right in the middle of her conversation, she said Lafe, his name was Lafe, it was short for Lafayette, but Amy always called him Lafe. I think most folks called him Lafe if I remember correctly”. Aunt Sarah was 12 years old at the time Lafe died, and had just turned 13 the month before her niece, Marguerite was born, she was now 90 years old, but thankfully she could remember his name.
Aunt Marguerite called me that evening and told me the whole story and ask if I thought I could find her Daddy, Lafe Alexander and his people. When I heard his name, I just about hollered out loud, but all I said was, I already had! I told her I had found the newspaper article over two months before, but I hadn’t said anything because I could not prove it was him. She was so quiet after I said that, but then she said, “could you read me the entire article”? I could hear her softly crying, but she was trying her hardest to not let me know that. She had told me several times she was not an emotional person, she had to learn to control her emotions, it was just easier that way. She had also told me she had high blood pressure now. She said it was probably my fault, but she was laughing when she said it. She said it was because she never had it until after I found her. J
Aunt Marguerite finally knew her Daddy’s name it had taken almost 77 years, but she finally knew who she was. She also knew that her parents loved each other too. She told me she could die tomorrow a very happy woman, knowing now who she was and that her parents loved each other and that they had loved her too. The following is a picture of Aunt Marguerite with Aunt Sarah and Aunt Sarah’s two sons Clifton and James Yates, about a year or so after the above conversation took place. The next picture is of Aunt Marguerite and my Mamaw, Daisy, at a Floyd Reunion a year or two after I found her. Everyone is now deceased.
Next she wanted me to trace her Daddy’s genealogy just like I had her mother’s. I was on the hunt again!!!
I won’t go into all the details, but I found quite a bit of information on the Alexander family. Lafe was the son of Timothy Jackson ‘Jack’ Alexander, 1852-before 1930, and Mary Jane Conger, 1851-1942, and was the baby of their seven children. These children were, Addie Bell, John Jackson, Lula A., Ida, Olive Bertha, and Alice Mina. I took the Alexander and Conger surnames back several generations as well. I unfortunately don’t know a lot about Lafe’s early life, after all he was only 20 years old when he died. I do know that he was the mail man on the Salem Road, which is the road Amy lived on as a young woman, so that is probably when they first met. Other than that, I don’t know much else about him.
I did find a niece of Lafe’s, that was still living in Cave-in-Rock, Illinois. Her name was Mary McConnell Pearson, 1907-2006, and it was her Daddy’s boat that Lafe had fallen from that dreadful day. She was almost seven years old when Lafe died and she said she could still remember that day, just like it was yesterday. She said her grandmother, Lafe’s Mom, never came across the river ever again. If they wanted to see her they had to go over to Marion. She said her Uncle Lafe was always giving her and her brother piggy back rides and he was always laughing and joking.
The following are pictures of Mary, her brother, Everett and their parents Richard and Olive Alexander McConnell. I believe the picture of Mary and her brother was probably about the time that Lafe died. I found these in the Pictorial History of Crittenden County, Kentucky.
I told Mary that her Uncle Lafe had, had a daughter that was born after his death and she was happy to hear that. She thought she was the last of all her cousins, as she was 85 years old when I found her in 1992. Her Mom was, Olive Bertha Alexander, an older sister of Lafe and wife of Richard McConnell. I told her I would be in Kentucky that coming summer and I would love to come over and visit with her. She said come right on over and I will be looking for pictures in the meantime and see if I can find one of Uncle Lafe for you to give to Marguerite.
The day I went over to Cave-in-Rock in 1992, my Mom, her older sister, Barbara and their parents, Daisy and Ermon Fraley, my Mamaw and Papaw, went with me. They all could not wait to hear about Lafe and his family. Unfortunately, Aunt Marguerite was unable to come down from Illinois to be there with all of us. However, her cousin, Mary, had been calling and talking to her and telling her about the Alexander family, since finding out about her.
Mary’s daughter was also there when we got to the house. They had lemonade, sweet tea and little sandwiches, ready for us when we arrived. Mary told us quite a bit about herself and her family, she was a retired school teacher and was a gracious host. We had a wonderful time while we were there. She had lots of pictures for us to look through. We were hoping there would be a picture of Lafe, because Aunt Marguerite really wanted to know what her father looked like. There were pictures of the boat, named the “Esta”, that Lafe had fallen from, there were pictures of Mary’s parents and her siblings, but no pictures of Lafe. Mary said that her Daddy use to have an office down by the wharf and a lot of their things were stored there at one time. When the flood of 1937 hit, they lost most everything that was there in that building. By the way the boat had been named for Mary as Esta was her middle name.
There is a pretty good article that tells about Mary’s father, Richard McConnell and the work he did up and down the Ohio River that Lafe would have helped him with, at this link:
Mary then remembered she had set aside some copies of some pictures for us to send to Marguerite and so she went to get them. When she came back in the room she handed us a picture of Lafe’s parents, pictures of the boat he had been on and she also had an old postcard that had been address to Lafe. She said the postcard wasn’t signed, but since it was address to Lafe then maybe Marguerite would like to have it. The postcard was dated almost two years before Lafe had died. It was a love note from some girl that said how much she loved him and she couldn’t wait to see him again in a few weeks at the dance, but there was no name signed on it saying who the girl was. We had brought some old letters of Mamaw Loftis with us, just in case we ran across something while we were there, so we could compare handwriting. The handwriting was similar, but not enough that we could say for certain it was hers. I laid the pictures and the postcard on the table beside me while we continued talking and Mary continued telling us what she could remember about Lafe and the family. I was disappointed that I didn’t have something more concrete for Aunt Marguerite, but at least now she would know what her grandparents looked like and Mary had said that Lafe favored his father quite a bit.
The following is a copy of the picture of Aunt Marguerite’s grandparents, Timothy Jackson Alexander and Mary Jane Conger, that Mary gave me that day. Unfortunately, I was still new enough at doing family history, that I did not make copies of all the things Mary gave me before I sent them to Aunt Marguerite. When I was back home in 2012, I went to my cousin’s house to see if I could make copies of Aunt Marguerite’s pictures and other documents. Aunt Marguerite had lived with him for a while after moving down to Evansville from Chicago, so he had all her old stuff. He only had a few things left of hers and the postcard and the pictures of the boat were not in the box of stuff he brought out. What happen to them I do not know, but it makes me sad that the postcard especially is no longer around.
It must have been about twenty minutes later that I picked up the postcard again looking at the blue forget-me-nots on the front of it and said to myself, “I sure wish this had been from Mamaw Loftis, it would have been so nice to have something from either Lafe to Amy or vice versa, to give to Aunt Marguerite”. I figured at least Aunt Marguerite would have something that her Daddy would have held in his hands and read. I turned the postcard over and read the little love note again and then looked at Lafe’s name and the postmark above his name. Then almost before my eyes, just to the left of the postmark, a name appeared, Amy Floyd. My heart about skipped a beat or two and I blinked, rubbed my eyes and looked again. Sure, enough there was her name, the name I had wished for, Amy Floyd, just as clear as can be, right next to the postmark date.
Aunt Barb was setting beside me and I said, look at this and she replied, oh I already did, but I said look again. So, to humor me she took the card and looked it over again. I ask her what did she see next to the postmark date. There’s Mamaw’s name!!! That wasn’t there before, she said! Then she reached over and got my Mom’s attention and said Jeannie look at this again. Mom said almost the exact thing Aunt Barb had said, I have already looked at it. Good, but look again Aunt Barb, said. So, my Mom took the postcard and she is looking it all over and Aunt Barb and I both say look by the postmark. Next we showed it to Mamaw and Papaw, both looked to and Mamaw had tears running down her eyes when she saw her Momma’s name and she said, “I can feel Momma with us so much right now”.
When I was given that little postcard, and Mamaw Loftis’ name wasn’t on it, at least at first, the blue forget-me-nots on the front was like Amy was telling Lafe, please don’t forget about me. Aunt Marguerite would now know that they had loved each other and had for at least two years, and that is what matters. I don’t think Amy ever forgot him though, and she never spoke his name again, after Marguerite was born, at least not that anyone was aware of.
That postcard and the forget-me-nots on front made me perk up and pay closer attention when I heard a message a few months ago, given by Dieter F. Uchtdorf, Second Counselor in the First Presidency of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day-Saints, and it reminded me again of the little postcard I was given to give to my Aunt Marguerite. It reads as follows:
“A while ago I was walking through a beautiful garden with my wife and daughter. I marveled at the glory and beauty of God’s creation. And then I noticed, among all the glorious blooms, the tiniest flower. I knew the name of this flower because since I was a child I have had a tender connection to it. The flower is called forget-me-not.
I’m not exactly sure why this tiny flower has meant so much to me over the years. It does not attract immediate attention; it is easy to overlook among larger and more vibrant flowers; yet it is just as beautiful, with its rich color that mirrors that of the bluest skies—perhaps this is one reason why I like it so much.
And there is the haunting plea of its name. There is a German legend that just as God had finished naming all the plants, one was left unnamed. A tiny voice spoke out, “Forget me not, O Lord!” And God replied that this would be its name.
As a child, when I would look at the little forget-me-nots, I sometimes felt a little like that flower—small and insignificant. I wondered if I would be forgotten by my family or by my Heavenly Father.
Years later I can look back on that young boy with tenderness and compassion. And I do know now—I was never forgotten.
There is something inspiring and sublime about the little forget-me-not flower. I hope it will be a symbol of the little things that make your lives joyful and sweet. Please never forget that you must be patient and compassionate with yourselves, that some sacrifices are better than others. Please never forget that the “why” of the gospel of Jesus Christ will inspire and uplift you. And never forget that your Heavenly Father knows, loves, and cherishes you.
You are not forgotten.” - Dieter F. Uchtdorf -
A flower that special was chosen to be on the front of a postcard given to a young man many years ago. That postcard brought love and closure to that young man’s daughter many, many years later. That daughter, had thought she was unwanted and unloved, until she saw that postcard and those flowers on the front, made her realize she had not been forgotten, but was wanted and loved.
Marguerite Rachel Floyd Rushing past away in Evansville, Vanderburgh County, Indiana on July 8, 2011 she was 97 years old. I was able to visit with her in April of 2011, just a few months before she passed away. She was getting weaker, but still had her memory and we had a nice visit together, just she and I. She thanked me for finding her and giving her the family she thought she never had, I guess that was her goodbye to me. Her father, Lafayette Maxwell Alexander passed away on August 21, 1913 at Cave-in-Rock, Hardin County, Illinois he had just turned 20 years old just the month before. Her mother, Amy Susan Floyd Loftis, died November 8, 1968 in Paducah, McCracken County, Kentucky she was 76 years old.
The following is the last time I saw Aunt Marguerite in Evansville in April of 2011, my cousin Scott took the one of me with Aunt Marguerite.
Marguerite was buried by her husband, Curtis Ashby Rushing in the Mapleview Cemetery in Marion, Crittenden County, Kentucky. Lafe was buried at the Pleasant Hill Cemetery in Crittenden County, Kentucky. He and his sister, Alice Mina Alexander Burgess share a tombstone together. Amy was buried at the Union Baptist Church Cemetery in Union, Crittenden County, Kentucky. Her daughter, Dorothy had been buried there in 1929 and she wanted to be buried by her. After Mamaw Loftis died they decided to have Papaw Loftis who had been buried at the Holiness Cemetery in Marion, disinterred and reburied by Mamaw Loftis at Union. The following are all their tombstones. You will notice that the year of birth for both Lafe and Amy is incorrect.
Though they were never able to be completely together in life, they are at least all buried in the same county, and my belief is they are all together now rejoicing in heaven. Marguerite, Lafe and Amy, none of you will ever be forgotten, and every time I see blue forget-me-nots I will remember.