This site is designed for a single person, but I wanted to make it a joint site for my parents. A celebration of their lives, instead of a sad memorialization. The family tree section will not accomodate two ancestral lines, so the tree is a descendant tree only.
At the time of Ernest's death on Jan 18, 2007, Ernest and Gladys were the progenitors of 84 descendants. This includes 7 children, 20 grand-children, 35 great-grandchildren, and 22 great-great grandchildren.
About Him Ernest Milton Ferrell was born April 24, 1915, the ninth of twelve children born to Martin Edward Ferrell and Maude Brackman Ferrell. The family lived at Cane Fork of Loudendale, in Kanawha Co., WV where Ernest was born. They later lived a number of years in Kanawha City, before returning to Cane Fork. Here, Martin and Maude lived the rest of their lives with most of their children building homes on adjoining property. Ernest describes his childhood as "wonderful" and in 1999 at age 84, wrote down some of those childhood memories for us which are included under the special memories tab above About Her Gladys Ellen Adams was born September 17, 1917, the third of ten children born to Elza Adams and Emily Agnes Tackett Adams. Elza worked at a sawmill, with Emma taking in laundry at times. They raised a garden, but often had to leave it, when they moved to another place. Gladys' childhood was the opposite of Ernest's. The family lived meagerly, moving frequently, often when the rent was due. Being one of the oldest of the family, Gladys learned early to help with the house and younger children. (She often said one of her legs was shorter than the other, because she carried her baby sister Roberta around on her hip). When she was about 15 or 16, the family was living in what is now the Kanawha State Forest.
****************************************************** We Miss Thee
We truly miss thee, dear parents We miss thee from thy place.
A shadow o'er our life is cast, We miss the sunshine of thy face.
We miss thy kind and willing hand, Thy fond and earnest care.
Our home is dark without thee- We miss thee everywhere. -Anonymous
Your surviving children, Kathie, Myrna, Donna, Paul
Stashie Callen / Stephanie MacLellan (>)
I was just searching family names and found this site. My great-grandmother was Stashie Tackett Callen. I believe that a picture of her and one of her sons is in this gallery.
Pictures / Mary Adams (sister-in-law)
Mom and Tim really enjoyed looking at all the pictures. Brought back memories for mom
What is really wierd about the photos is that is the way I remembered everyone / Larry Ferrell (Nephew)
My family moved away from WV when I was 16. My dad, David was transferred to North Bergen New Jersey with Owens Illinois so when I see the photos taken around that time those are the images I see when I think of Uncle Ernest, Aunt Gladys and th...
Thank you Angie! / Donna (Daughter)
Thanks to all who have updated pictures on the Family Tree. A great big hug and to Angie Kasten Piper for the addition of all the new pics she ad...
Ernest Jr's Granddaughter / Rebecca Higgins (Great-Granddaughter)
I am so grateful for this website! Since my grandfather (Ernest Jr) passed away at a young age, none of his grandchildren ever knew him. Since we never knew him, we never had the chance to get very close to his side of the family. Looking at the pict...
When one of earth's most lovely lights has flickered and gone out, the shadow in your heart is almost more than you can bear. You strive for understanding as you struggle through the days, with undiminished longing for a smile no longer there. Although profoundly changed, the world keeps whirling all around you. In time, you'll find the comfort tender memories can restore. And someday, past the tears, the light of life will be rekindled with hope and love as radiant and inspiring as before. Anonymous
Rock Me To Sleep Rock Me To Sleep / Donna (Daughter)
Backward, turn backward, O time, in your flight, Make me a child again just for tonight! Mother, come back from the echoless shore, Take me again to your heart as of yore; Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care, Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair; Over my slumbers your loving watch keep;-- Rock me to sleep, Mother --rock me to sleep!
Backward, flow backward, oh, tide of the years I am so weary of toil and of tears-- Toil wihout recompense, tears all in vain-- Take them, and give me my childhood again! I have grown weary of dust and decay-- Weary of flinging my soul--wealth away, Rock me to sleep, Mother--rock me to sleep!
Tired of the hollow, the base, the untrue, Mother, O Mother, my heart calls for you! Many a summer the grass has grown green, Blossomed and faded, our faces between; Yet, with strong yearning and passionate pain. Long I tonight for your presence again. Come from the silence so long and so deep;-- Rock me to sleep, Mother--rock me to sleep!
Over my heart, in the days that are flown, No love like Mother--love ever has shone; No other worship abides and endures-- Faithful, unselfish, and patient like yours; None like a mother can charm away pain From the sick soul and world-weary brain. Slumber's soft calms o'er my heavy lids creep;-- Rock me to sleep, Mother--rock me to sleep!
Come, let your brown hair, just lighted with gold, Fall on your shoulders again as of old; Let it fall over my forehead tonight, Shading my faint eyes away from the light; For with its sunny-edged shadows once more Happily will throng the sweet visions of yore; Lovingly, softly, its bright billows sweep;-- Rock me to sleep, Mother--rock me to sleep!
Mother, dear Mother, the years have been long Since I last listened your lullaby song; Sing, then, and unto my soul it shall seem Womanhood's years have been only a dream. Clasped to your heart in a loving embrace, With your light lashes just sweeping my face, Never hereafter to wake or to weep; Rock me to sleep, Mother--rock me to sleep!
written by Elizabeth Akers Allen, who lived from 1832-1911
Best Blackberry Picker Mother wasn't the only one who liked to joke with people and had a sense of humor, although she may have been the best at it. I remember in the 60's we were at Maw's house when Roberta and Ernie were visiting from Ohio. Several of the men decided to go blackberry picking for Maw. Imagine Maw's surprise when Daddy quickly returned and handed her his coffee can full of blackberries. When she went to clean them, she came back outside laughing, as Daddy had filled his can almost full of leaves, covered with enough blackberries to hide his trickery.