Clarksville 1976

My Aunt Janet sent me this photo and it’s just too precious not to share. I believe it was taken at an outdoor church service on Market Street in Clarksville. That’s my dad Wayne Ross (blocking the sun with his program), my mother Roberta Ross, and my grandfather Vance Ross, with my cousin Nikole Kiralis sitting on his lap. That’s Hackney’s Hardware store in the background. I think this was taken during the Bicentennial Celebration in 1976.

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The Search for Staff Sgt. Donald W. Ross

The Lucky Lady II crew posed for a USAAF photographer at the Royal Air Force Base Snetterton Heath in Norfolk, England, on July 4, 1943 (United Kingdom American Archive) Staff Sgt. Donald W. Ross U.S. Army Air Corps Donald W. Ross was a World War II hero whose story got lost in a mix of family drama, estrangement, distance, and time. About 40 years ago, my grandfather Vance Ross mentioned that he hadn’t seen his younger brother since 1944. As he sat at his kitchen table in Clarksville, he talked about his little brother who had been a Prisoner of War who was eventually released from a German prison camp as part of a prisoner exchange. Don soon returned to Southwestern Pennsylvania, where he visited with some of his family members, including my grandfather. After the reunion, Don left and never contacted his family again. It has been said that Don was upset over family issues that occurred after his parents separated when he was a young boy. My grandfather asked me to help him find ...

The Generosity of Howard F. Shipley Continues

"I am not a religious fanatic but God put every man on this earth with equal right to life, liberty and pursuit of happiness. I am simply performing my duty to my fellow beings as I understand it." ~ Howard Francis Shipley who helped evicted coal miners during the Coal Strike of 1922 Howard Shipley on a trip in the 1920s with his family: from the left are his wife’s best friend Dora Kinder, his daughter Trissa, wife Annabelle, and daughter Blanche. Howard Francis Shipley 1883-1923 My Great Grandfather Howard Francis Shipley died suddenly of pneumonia in 1923 when he was just 40 years old, leaving behind his grieving wife Annabelle and three daughters: Mildred, who was already married, and Trissa and Blanche, who were still at home. Howard was a businessman from Brownsville who owned an automobile dealership in the bustling town on the Monongahela River in Fayette County, PA. His hard work made it possible for his family to live comfortably and allowed them to enjoy suc...

The Elopement of 1963

Wayne Ross and Roberta Phillians were married 62 years ago in this church in LaVale, MD on August 16, 1963. After my parents eloped they went back to Clarksville but didn’t tell anyone about their marriage until Christmas Eve of that same year. She was 18 and had just graduated from high school and he was a 21-year-old senior at Waynesburg College. It was their second attempt at eloping, the first time the minister wanted to call their parents! This is the closest thing to a wedding photo I have of my parents Roberta Phillians and Wayne Ross of Clarksville, PA. This was taken at her prom at Beth-Center High School in 1962. She made her own dress. On Christmas Eve they decided to break the news to their families. My mom thought her father was going to disown her, so she put on her favorite dress so she would at least have that. George might have been strict, but he didn’t disown his only child on that Christmas Eve. Nevertheless, my mom packed up her things that night,...

Clarksville Friends

Here’s a lovely photograph of my Great Grandmother Mary Brown holding on to her friend Leota Nyswaner of Clarksville, Pa. I'm guessing this photo was taken in the 1950s. Leota was a dear lady who lived on Market Street, just a block from the home of Mary and her husband Isaac and my Grandparents Forest Vance and Ruth Brown Ross. When we were young, my friends and I would visit Leota at her little house often. She would invite us in, give us treats, and tell us stories. She told me about the day she sat with my Grandmother and helped deliver my father, Wayne Ross, who was born at home on August 13, 1942. She was very proud of this, but I was too young to think about asking any questions. Was she a midwife? Did my grandmother have a difficult time? Did the birth take a long time? Was my dad a big baby? Nope, I didn't ask a thing. I was about 7 years old, so I was probably thinking, “Wow, that’s interesting, Mrs. Nyswaner. May I have another cookie, please?” I also rememb...

Julia Marodi's Prayer Cards

My husband’s Grandmother Julia Postic Marodi of Marianna collected prayer cards from the funerals of her family and friends. She tucked them away neatly in a little plastic bag, along with some other papers. I'm sure that, in her heart, each card represented a great deal of love and sorrow. Julia was born on March 23, 1909, in Brownsville, Fayette County, PA and she lived in T ower Hill II. She married Alex Marodi and they had three sons, Michael, Charles, and George. The family lived in Marianna, Washington County, PA, and belonged to the Holy Resurrection Orthodox Church in West Brownsville, PA. Julia, a faithful woman who loved her friends and family very much, died on N ovember 15, 1992, in Marianna, Washington County, PA. My husband's ancestral line to Julia Postic Marodi: 1. Timothy Marodi; 2. Charles Marodi; 3. Julia Postic by Randi Ross Marodi - randileeross@gmail.com

In Memory of my father Forrest Wayne Ross 1942 - 2021

H ow do you even begin to write about the loss of your father? I've put if off for a while, but it's time to recognize the fact that he's gone. Forrest Wayne Ross died on Thursday, September 16, 2021, in his home in Raleigh, NC. He had just celebrated his 79th birthday. Dad had been sick for about three years, but we hoped he would beat the cancer that was making him weak and stealing his youthful good looks and fun-loving personality. Just like everyone else who has terminal cancer there's a point where things start to change: a treatment takes a toll, appetite fades, a bout of dehydration, a urinary tract infection. Things get better and then it all starts again. Hospital, home, hospital, home. For us it was the beginning of the end, but we didn't realize it. A fall at the beginning of September set the ball rolling one last time: concerned looks from doctors, a mention of the word hospice, and an ambulance ride home. My dad wouldn't eat, he wouldn't talk,...

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