John Cronin Russell Davis, Sr.

Part VIIa: Four Grandchildren of Andrew Russell and Josephine Davis

John Cronin Russell Davis, Sr.

(My Father)

Part I

On February 14, 1915, the third child, a son, was born to Isaac Luther Davis and Elle Cronin Davis. His birth certificate said that he was over 10 pounds and that his birth date was February 30, 1915. Nonetheless, his family attested to the fact that Cronin Davis was a Valentines baby, and he would remain a favorite of his two older sisters throughout their life time. Mary Lucile, his older sister, would have been 7 years old, and Margery, his second sister would have turned 3 the December before Cronin was born in February. Tragedy struck the Davis household sixteen months later when Elle Cronin Davis died in June of 1916. Cronin would have only been 16 months old at the time and was still nursing. Mary Lucile wrote years later that the death of her mother was overwhelming for her as it would have been for any child of 8 ½ years. Isaac Luther asked his sister-in-law Mayme Cronin Connick if she would continue nursing his son Cronin until he could be weaned. Aunt Mayme had a child (Vera Connick) who was six months older than Cronin so she was still nursing her own child at the time of her sister Elle’s death. As would be expected, my father, Cronin Davis, always was very close to his Aunt Mayme and always considered her a favorite aunt.

When Cronin was almost 4 years old, his father remarried. He married his wife’s sister Irene who would have been his children’s Aunt Irene. They were wed in November of 1918. Nine months later this new marriage brought forth a child, a son, who was named Isaac Luther Davis, Jr. The young boy would forever be known as I. L. At the time of I. L.’s birth the other children called their step-mother Aunt Irene. In order not to confuse I. L. has he grew up in the family, Aunt Irene requested that the older three children begin calling her “Mother” instead of Aunt Irene. The older three children complied with their step-mother’s request and from then on she was “Mother” to all of them.

As has been told by various relatives, Cronin grew to be a strong boy with well developed muscles and a fine physique. His stature was inherited from his mother’s people, the Cronins, and more precisely, his grandmother Mary Ann Taylor Cronin. His grandfather John Patrick Cronin was quite a tall man well over six feet. His grandmother Mary Ann Cronin, however, was very short as were many of her children. Nonetheless, Cronin Davis’s tallness as a man was not determined by his shadow. His broad muscular shoulders and arms as well as strong muscular legs—characteristics he gave to some of his sons and grandsons and even great-grandsons—were only the outward characteristic of a man who had an equally strong and generous heart for sharing his talents and abilities with those he knew.

When Cronin was 14 years old he began smoking cigarettes. He used to hide the cigarettes under a large wicker clothes hamper so that his parents wouldn’t know that he smoked. Around the same age, when a riding a horse one day, Cronin fell off the horse and broke his leg. Evidence of the break would stay with him for the rest of his life as one leg was shorter than the other. Not enough shorter to be seen by others but enough to be felt by the owner of the leg.

I was told by several sources (Father, Mother, 1^st Cousin of my Dad (Evan Terry) that when Cronin Davis graduated from McGill Institute in 1933 at the age of 18, he hopped on a motorcycle and rode all the way from Mobile, Alabama to Chicago, Illinois. Cronin attended the 1933 World’s Fair. After staying in Chicago for the Fair, he ran out of money. After wiring his dad for cash, Cronin left his motorcycle on the streets of Chicago and somehow made his way back to Alabama. He settled in Moundville, Alabama, the boyhood home of his father. Cronin’s cousin McGlaun Evan Terry told me recently that Cronin lived with his family (Uncle Evan Terry and Aunt Katie Davis Terry and children—Evan Terry, Barbara Ann Terry and Hilda Terry) until he married in 1936. My dad worked several jobs for his Uncle Evan (aka Evie Terry). He worked at an ice house delivering ice, drove a truck for delivery of farm produce, and worked as a mechanic at Moundville Motor Company (a Ford dealership and service company). Cousin Evan Terry relates that Cronin would most likely have met his future wife, Evelyn Elliott, at one of the football games played at Hale County High School in Moundville. Evelyn Elliott (my mother) was head cheerleader at HCH. This was a position she held throughout her lifetime in all areas of her life. She graduated from HCH in 1936—three years after her intended graduation in 1933. The Great Depression had closed most schools during that time period and she wasn’t able to finish high school until ’36. Cronin Davis and Evelyn Elliott were married on September 9, 1936. They were married in Tuscaloosa, Alabama at the Rectory of St. John the Baptist Catholic Church and spent there first night at the Moundville Hotel with dinner at the locally famous (even to this day) restaurant MELISSA’S. I assume you can still get a REAL hamburger at MISS MELISSA’S. This restaurant has a story and history of its own. Cronin and Evelyn would eat at MELISSA’S over the years and celebrate their 48^th wedding anniversary in 1984 (their last anniversary before my father’s death in 1985) by eating at MISS MELISSA’S as it is called these days. (To be continued).

Christmas Greeting 2007

Third Sunday of Advent
December 16, 2007


As a fierce winter storm assails mid-Michigan this Sunday morning, near blizzard conditions have cancelled most church services this morning. Glenda and I find ourselves ensconced in our home surrounded by the silence of the falling snow as well as the busyness of fluttering birds huddling around several bird feeders in our yard. I can’t remember the last time that worship services were cancelled due to a winter storm. We decided to read the scriptures and sing the appointed hymns as though we were a congregation of 200. For the sermon, we practiced saying to each other various scriptures we are memorizing.

It struck us once again that “… the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart. And no creature is hidden from his sight, but all are naked and exposed to the eyes of him to whom we must give account.” (Hebrews 4:12-13)

In these days as in ages past, when humankind continues to fashion itself gods of its own making, when the belief that “the god of many faces” purports to make all beliefs equal in order not to offend any religious faith, when the politically correct term “tolerance” means setting aside absolute truth for relativism as a foundation for solid thinking, we are most grateful that:

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness, to bear witness about the light, that all might believe through him. He was not the light, but came to bear witness about the light.

The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him. But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God.

And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.” (John 1:1-14)

Glenda and I send Christmas good news that “…God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved—and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. (Ephesians 2:4-7)

Within this framework we rejoice to say that this has been a very prosperous year. Here are some highlights:

• We are blessed by our children. Matt moved to Florida a couple of months ago. He lives in Lakeland. Abby moved to Charleston, SC last summer. Both Matt and Abby will be with us for several days during Christmas week. Isaac, Stacie and Braylon live in Owosso which means we are doubly blessed to have them close as well as be able to care for Braylon several times a week.
• We continue to plan and implement the worship services at our local church. This is our 15^th year to work in this capacity.
• We reduced our private teaching schedule to 2 ½ days a week in order to have more time and energy to care for Braylon who is 17 months old. As grandparents we are getting a second chance to “do it right.”
• Our local congregation continues to be the center of who we are and what we do. The church continues to challenge us to deepen our walk with Jesus, to minister to those in the church, to share our talents, treasure and time with our neighbors and the community and world at large.

• My health has improved drastically since I’ve joined the local Powerhouse Gym.
• Glenda continues to play the piano more beautifully than ever and to be a wife, mother, grandmother, and friend with qualities that we all are striving to achieve. I’m grateful for this “long-term” relationship in a marriage of almost 38 years. Now, that is a real “long-term” relationship!
• We are grateful for so many friends and family.
• We, too, struggle with all the issues that plague our society in this post-modern/ post-Christian era. Nonetheless, our hope is NOT based on who the next president will be, or when will all the social ills of the world be solved, or the resolution of the latest mid-East conflict or anything else.

“What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised— who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? As it is written,
‘For your sake we are being killed all the day long;
we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.’

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:31-39)

Merry Christmas! Happy New Year!—Ronald and Glenda Davis

“The Boy Who Knew When to Change His Clothes”

“The Boy Who Knew When to Change His Clothes”

(An Autobiographical Story)

By Ronald Davis

©1983

On a hot summer afternoon, Evan put on his best pair of short pants and his favorite, brown, stripped, short-sleeved shirt. Since he was going to town, he decided to wear his Sunday shoes instead of his old tennis shoes.

Evan asked his mother if this really were the day he could go to town by himself. He was almost 10 years old, but his older brother Edward always went with him. They usually would spend a summer afternoon “window shopping”—trying to decide how they would spend their allowance. The two boys would almost always return home without spending any money. They would save it for the next trip when they would have more money added from the next week’s allowance.

Today was a different day. Evan had saved his money for a long time. He knew what he wanted, but only now did he have enough money to buy the gold ring with the square ruby stone.

His mother told him that he was old enough to go to town by himself as long as he would hurry past “Capitol Park” on his way to and from town—making sure he walked on the opposite side of the street from the park. “Capitol Park” was a large area of land on 5^th Street that at one time was the home of the state capital of Alabama. There were still large foundation stones that loomed up in the tall grass where once stood the Alabama State Capitol Building. Evan knew that older boys often played at the old park, and they liked to pick fights or even bully younger children.

On his way to town, Evan imagined how it would feel to wear a real ring. He had never had one and now his dream was going to come true. The boy hurried past the park and finally arrived in front of the old five and dime store which the store marquee said was Kresge’s Five and Dime. Evan made his way to the jewelry case and pointed to the ruby ring he had seen so many times before. After he paid his money to the clerk, she was about to put the ring in a box, but Evan told her he wanted to wear the ring home so he didn’t need a box. How proud he was as he placed the ring on his finger!

Going back home the same way that he came, Evan walked slowly. As he walked along 5^th Street, Evan was thinking of all the places he would wear his new ring—to school in the fall, to his piano lessons, to Boy Scout meetings, to his uncle’s farm when he visited his cousin Elliott in a few weeks, and to church.

All of a sudden, Evan was shocked to realize that he was walking right past Capitol Park on the same side of the street as the park--the side he had avoided when he had first come that way earlier on his way to town. Just as his mother warned, a group of older boys was playing near the old foundation stones of buildings that had been there long ago. To his horror, the boys saw him and rushed toward him yelling, “Hey, let’s get him!” The young boy froze knowing that he could never outrun the roughnecks. They surrounded him and began to pick at him, “Hey, sissy, you wanna fight? Look at the sissy; he’s even wearing a ring!”

Evan knew that he had to think up something quickly or he was going to be pulverized by these hoodlums. He didn’t like to fight even though he had his fair share of fights at home. With three older brothers and two younger, it was hard to escape a day without a fight of some sort. Today was different, however, because he knew there was no chance for a fair fight.

Evan answered the boys in a calm but tough tone of voice, “Yeah, guys, I’ll fight ya, but you will have to give me time to run home and change my clothes. Meet me back here in fifteen minutes.”

To his surprise the bullies believed his bluff, and let him start for home. As Evan turned the corner at 32^nd Avenue and Fifth Street, the ruffians shouted, “Hurry and change your clothes, Sissy. We’ll be waitin’ for ya!”

With a sigh of relief and a witty chuckle, Evan ran home to change his clothes. BUT, he did not return to the park.

(An update 53 years later—The original ruby ring was lost a long time ago for reasons I do not recall. I looked for a similar ring over the years to replace the one I bought when I was almost 10 years old. But, I could never locate one that I felt was even close to the original ring. Then, on Saturday, October 7, 2000, two days after my birthday, my wife told me we were going to go shopping. Since I don’t like to shop, I inquired where this shopping trip was destined. She told me that we were going to look for the ruby ring of long ago. We were going to The Wooden Skate Antique Jewelry Store in Okemos, Michigan. I told her that it was to no use. I had looked for 46 years and had never found a match. She said that maybe this would be the day. Anyway, she wanted to buy a birthday gift for me. I reluctantly went along. We arrived at The Wooden Skate. I asked to be shown the men’s rings. The clerk led us to another section of the building. I looked through the class countertop where the rings were displayed. Immediately I saw a ruby ring just like the one I had long ago. I tried it on and it fit perfectly. My wife said that I should buy it, but I resisted because I thought $60 was too much to pay for a ring even though it was an art deco style ring from the 1920’s. Not buying the ring wasn’t going to be the order for the day. My persistent wife said that I had been looking for such a ring for 4 decades, and if I were not going to buy it, she would buy it for me. Which she did and that was the end of that!)

Part VI: Four Grandchildren of Andrew Russell and Josephine Davis

Margery Eunice Davis Wienand

(December 6, 1911-February 13, 2000)

The second child of Luther and Ellie Davis was born on December 6, 1911. Margery Eunice Davis was almost four years younger than her sister Mary Lucille and a little over 3 years older than her brother Cronin who was born the early part of 1915. Early pictures of Margery, whose name was chosen for a perfume sold at her father’s drug store,* show a beautiful child with engaging eyes as well as physical grace. Her beauty and grace would be a hallmark even into adult life. What the early years were like for the three children of Luther and Ellie can only be told in pictures. There is one photograph of Luther, Ellie, Mary Lucille and Margery that shows Margery standing close to her handsome father. Judging from the possible ages of the children and the pleasant look on Ellie’s face the third child (Cronin) more than likely was on the way. As I look closely at Margery, her eyes once again are the clear and bright lamps that I remember from my earliest times of visiting her in Montgomery, Alabama. Margery, perhaps, favored her mother Ellie more than her two siblings did. Ellie had a full oval face with perfectly positioned eyes. Margery, too, was stamped in her mother’s image.

The first memories of Margery Davis Wienand were after the family had moved from Fairhope, Alabama. I have to rely on her children’s knowledge of when this move took place because until recently I thought the Wienands had always lived in Montgomery. My father always spoke of Margery, but my first remembrance was a drop by visit to their home in 1955 or 1956. My oldest brother was enrolled in the Forestry Department at Auburn University, and after church one Sunday, we all piled into the car to drive over three hours to visit him. At age 11 it seemed like an endless journey to me. Because of the long drive back to Tuscaloosa we didn’t stay very long visiting with my brother. It was long enough, however, to deliver any needed supplies and care packages. On our way back to Tuscaloosa, we stopped at Margery and John Wienand’s home in Montgomery. I have a clear memory of being warmly greeted by my aunt and uncle as well as being fed from their table. Uncle John had a quiet but strong presence and Aunt Margery was interested in the details of life regarding her brother and his family. I was conscious that she had a genuine interest in who were were. My own family was not given to physical expressions of affection, but the Wienand family expressed their affection openly. I was impressed with this and remember early on desiring to imitate these characteristics. I have a vague recollection of my aunt and uncle’s two daughters and was intrigued to know that I had female cousins. With six boys in my family and out of the 19 cousins from my mothers family only 5 were girls and all were younger than I. Meeting an older girl cousin as well as a younger one in the same family was significant. Margery and John’s son who was known as Son-John since he was the third generation with the name was probably not home at the time. He was the same age as one of my older brothers so the age difference may have precluded interaction at the time.

We visited on several other occasions for the same reason of needing to go visit my brother at Auburn University. The same warmth and hospitality was always present as well as great affection for us as close relatives. My father spoke of Margery in affectionate ways and always enjoyed her written missives to our family. He had a Mobile-way of speaking her name and the sound was like someone who had been reared in Boston, MA. He pronounced “Auburn” the same way. I noticed that a lot of natives from the Mobile area spoke with that inflection even Margery herself. I loved to hear her say the word “Christmas.” It sounded like “Crusmus” or something similar.

As far as his two sisters were concerned, my dad was the “apple of their eye.” I wondered if this doting and “excessive” caring for the younger brother of the family had to do with the fact that these children had lost their “real mother” at early ages. Mary Lucille would have been 8, Margery was 4 ½ and Cronin was 16 months old. Until their dad remarried over three years after his first wife died, it had to be hard on the older two as well as the baby (Cronin). Perhaps, the two dear sisters looked after him in special ways.

Every February 14 on my dad’s birthday as long as I can remember, it was a guarantee that my father would receive a box of candy and a big, fuzzy, heart-shaped valentine from his sister Margery. Mary Lucille would also send a card. Maybe it didn’t happen every year, but it was often. I had never seen fuzzy, large valentines except when he received them on his birthday. I thought all valentines came in small sizes and many to a package like the ones that were handed out in school. There were always duplicates in the little packages, but my dad always had unique valentines. I remember, too, that it was an unspoken rule that none of us children would ask our dad for a piece of the candy that he had received in the special valentine candy box. He put the box in his underwear drawer of his chest of drawers. Each night before he went to work, he would take out a piece and put it in his lunch box. We were allowed to smell the box when it was empty. Russell Stovers and other candy makers seemed to steep their candy boxes in chocolate, and the sweet smell of chocolate stayed with the box for decades.

As all children seem to grow up faster than one imagines, the grandchildren of Luther and Ellie Davis followed suit. I remember other times that the Wienands and the Davises gathered together but the pace and direction of the various lives were always in multiple directions. Some of the cousins went into the service. I know that Son-John made a career in the Air Force. Some were going to the University. Others were making career choices that took them far away. Montgomery and Tuscaloosa are only 100 miles apart but as everyone even now can attest, “It is the longest and most time consuming hundred miles that anyone can imagine. “Are we there, yet?” is not even funny when driving that 100 miles.

There were weddings, and some were able to attend. These events only gave us snatches of time to get caught up and not everyone could be present for a zillion reasons. After a while, the little connections that we did have began to disconnect and we lost contact except for the news we would hear from our parents about Margery and John. Then, parents die and even children die before parents. Parents who were the hub of contact are no longer there to convey the news of cousins and relatives that we no longer really know. Now, funerals bring us together and everyone says, “We must get together.” Time and space, however, intervene, and the connections are not made for many reasons.

Relationships are intentional in that we are responsible for maintaining them. No one else is. Some are easy to maintain and are reciprocated. But, others are more complicated because of personalities, time or lack of interest.

As we age, some of us have a need to reconnect with family no matter how distant the relations. We may also wish that things had been different and the closeness that wasn’t there for years would have a resurgence through the remaining cousins whether they be first cousins or first cousins once removed. Since there are no more mothers or fathers remaining of our parents’ generation, we are left only with ourselves to carry on the remembrance of our parents’ siblings and of their parents and grandparents. Thus, we have genealogical works that list names or story memories like this present blog. There will always be gaps in the story. Sometimes the gaps are very large since one person’s memory is only part of the puzzle. The gaps in memory for dear Aunt Margery are great for me. Circumstances are never the same when it comes to equal time with relatives. The time for starting over or starting the first time is never too late while there is still breath. I rely now on my dear cousins, the surviving children of Margery Eunice Davis Wienand, to fill me in on the huge gaps that I’m incapable of filling. Actually, they have already begun that process to my delight. The best memory of her is that my parents loved her dearly as a sister and sister-in-law. That was evident from my earliest memory. This is enough to continue her memory in my own mind and pass it on to my children and grandchildren. Margery Davis Wienand’s joys, pains, heartaches, successes and triumphs are memories that may have been long forgotten, but her kind, loving, and caring ways live on in her children. Observe them closely, and you will observe as well as experience the loving legacy of Margery Davis Wienand.

*As remembered by her daughter