American Legacies Organization, Inc.

Bertha Otelia Kunth Lavender about 1902

The Lavender History as Heard and Seen

by Charles E. Blakeslee

11/24/97

The Place Where I Feel Most At Home And What Makes It A Special Place For Me

by Amy Finkle

The place I feel most at home in is at my grandmothers house. I know it sounds silly that I wouldn’t pick my own house, but at my grandparents we do such fun things. First off, they live on a farm and have 26 acres of open forest and so we go walking in the woods. In the woods there is a pond and a cabin next to it that my pop built. In the summer we sleep over there and go fishing.

By Linda Clark

This is how I became a member of the Wike-Clark family.

By Heather Stergos

As a child nothing spoke of the magic of Christmas like my grandparents house. I can still clearly remember the thrill of pulling up the snowy drive, for it seems like it was always snowy when we arrived at the big house for the holidays. My grandparents lived in a large three-story house built in 1908. At any point during the year it was a magical place for a child, filled with all sorts of treasures, but it seemed especially so during the Christmas season.

By Helen V Lundt

(Myra and Andrew Riley in front of the Christmas tree at the Seven Stars residence)

By Polly Mazariegos

All of my childhood Christmas memories are full of fun and food, except on the occasion when I had such a bad case of bronchitis and had such a sore throat I did not want to come down for Christmas morning.

Bernita & Marion Hoffman

By Marion C. Hoffman

By Harvey Wike

When we moved onto our farm outside Fredericksburg, PA, the road past our house was an old dirt road. I guess at times we could be called Hucksters, as we would load up our produce from the farm, take it to the town of Lebanon, PA, in a Dodge panel truck and sell the produce door to door.

By Judy Goldman

I grew up on a farm in the heart of central New Jersey. We lived in a quiet, rural area. It wasn’t that bad, though. Being on a farm had its advantages, although it wasn’t really much to speak of, as farms go. My grandparents aging seemed to be inversely proportional to the number of animals we had. During this particular December, the chickens and goats were long gone and all that remained were three dogs and an ever-increasing number of stray cats that somehow managed to make their way to the farmhouse.

(Left to right: My mother Ida Miller, Aunt Hazel, Aunt Tick and Aunt Regime

Back row left to right: Uncle Charlie, Uncle Harry Maze, Jack Glob, and My father I. R. Miller)

by Lynn Ruth Miller

copyright Lynn Ruth Miller 1999

First Serial Rights