Showing posts with label McMahon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label McMahon. Show all posts

Winter Ride


Nancy McMahon out for a pony ride with her father, Maurice McMahon, c. 1950's.


A young Nancy visiting the pony.



Posted by Picasa

Obituary: Doris McCullough

DANA- Doris J. McCullough, 82 of Dana died at 8:35 pm Sunday July 17, 2005. She was born June 25, 1923 in Vermillion County, Indiana to the late Claude Campbell and to Geneva Stokesberry Campbell. Survivors include her husband of 57 years Maurice McCullough whom she married Jan. 4, 1948 in Dana; three daughters, Nancy McMahon and her husband Wilburn McMahon of Covington, Rebecca Lawson and her husband Steven Lawson of Dana and Karen McCullough of Indianapolis; two granddaughters, Amy (Ben) Biddle of Lebanon and Janet (Nathan) Benzing of Fairmount, Illinois; two great-grandchildren; She was a 1941 graduate of Dana High School. She and her husband farmed together in Dana for over 40 years, retiring in 1988. She attended the Montezuma Independent Baptist Church. Services are 11:00 am Wednesday, July 20, in Overpeck-Gooch Funeral Home at 225 Maple St. in Dana with Pastor Keith B. McIntyre officiating. Burial is in Bono Cemetery in Dana. Visitation is from 4-8 pm on Tuesday at Overpeck-Gooch Funeral Home, and before services on Wednesday. Memorials should friends so desire, may be made to the Independent Baptist Church, PO Box 335, Montezuma, IN 47862 in her memory.

George Gordon McMahon, 1920

George Gordon McMahon, 1920
FTGeorge Gordon McMahon, 1920

Born on December 19, 1919 in Arkansas, Gordon was a child of the Dust Bowl. He married Mary Jane Gertrude Dore on September 14, 1936 in Hugo, Oklahoma. They traveled the Grapevine (The Mother Road) bringing their family to Arizona and finally Bakersfield, California. He died on December 8, 1987 of Alzheimer's.
We have one of the pipes he used to smoke. Being Irish Catholic, I'm not sure if the beads pictured are a rosary or just a pacifier. It could be a picture of his christening too.

Book Review: The Grapes of Wrath

John Steinbeck's classic American novel is a powerful and gripping saga, but for me it was more than a fascinating read, it's a commentary on our heritage. Set during the Great Depression and economic hardships of the Dust Bowl, Steinbeck follows the struggles of the fictional Joad family as they travel Route 66 west to California looking for work and hoping for a better life. It was fascinating to follow the transformation from sharecropping farmers to migrant workers as each new hardship forces sociological changes. Interspersed throughout the story are chapters reflecting the grander scope, giving a better understanding that this struggle is more than one family and truly a national crisis.
It was exciting to read about places like Bakersfield and Oklahoma where family still resides. For a time the McMahons lived at the government camp. I've seen one photo where Grandma is wearing a borrowed dress outside the clapboard shack, ready to attend the Saturday night dance just as Steinbeck describes.
The book is filled with colloquial speech and can be difficult to read. There is also quite a bit of vulgar language. Several graphically violent scenes accentuate the depth of their struggle. It's easy to see why this book would have been banned and even burned. If any of this would prevent you from reading the book, may I recommend the movie starring Henry Fonda. It eliminates the rough language and gives a cleaner ending. However, I know the real story hasn't ended. It continues on today in the heritage of my own family, affecting our values, decisions, and relationships.

McMahon Family Crest

The Shield is: Argent three lions passant reguardant in pale gules armed and lanqued azure.
The Crest is: A dexter arm in armour embowed ppr. garnished or, holding in the hand a sword both ppr. pommel and hilt gold.
The Motto is: "Sic Nos Sic Sacra Tuemur", 'Thus We Guard Our Sacred Rights'.
Variant spellings for McMahon are: MacMahon, Mahon, Maghan, Mann, Maughan Gaelic spelling: "MacMathghamha".
The name itself is said to come from the Irish word for 'bear'.