This is page 2 of the heritage page of my grandparents. The journaling:Before she knew your Grandma Ann, “Gobby” was Iva Stutzman Miller. However, her first born grandchild
(me) could not say ‘grandma' and it came out as Gobby. For the rest of her life, she was “Gobby”, not just
to her family but to everyone. Once my cousin sent a letter addressed to “Gobby Miller” in our little home town, and it was delivered to her without problem. Grandad Homer WAS Grandad until WE had our first born. Doug named him Ho-Ho, so for the rest of his life, he was “Ho-Ho”. Gobby and Ho-Ho meant love and caring. Without them, I would have had no parents after my dad died when I was eleven. Without them
our kids would have never known grandparents. We were so blessed. I have never known anyone who cherished family more than did they. They taught me everything I knew about parenting and grandparenting.
At the beginning of their lives they were Amish/Mennonite and those straightforward values remained with them even after they had joined the Methodist Church.Life was meant to be simple and all that should be important were God and family. They met when they were young, in country school. Grandad was born September 29, 1901 near Milford, Nebraska and Gobby was born March 19, 1903 in Shickley. They were
married December 20, 1923. Both came from large families -- Grandad had 12 brothers & sisters and Gobby
had seven. And they were so close. We spent our childhood going to family reunions, family birthday parties,
and family get togethers just to get together. Gobby, in the tradition of Amish/Mennonite women was the best
cook in the world. Her potato salad, home made chocolate cake, cole slaw (and everything else she made)
became legendary. Grandad farmed for years until my dad grew up and then he and Dad opened two stores in our little town (Beaver Crossing) -- a produce store and a hardware/dime store. After Dad died, they closed
the stores -- neither had any heart for it after Dad was gone. Gobby taught me many adages -- “don‘t put all your eggs in one basket”, “pretty is as pretty does”. I loved to sit and listen to them talk about growing up and their families, things they had done (from Gobby
telling about slaughtering day on the farm, to Grandad telling about how he and his brother took Great-
Grandpa's prize horses and buggy for a ride one day and nearly lost them). I have never planted a flower garden without Gobby “being next to me” -- telling me to dig the hole, pour in some water, don't break the roots, poor water on afterwards. Whenever I see a cocker spaniel, I think of the day Grandad Homer brought our first little black cocker spaniel home to us. From family to animals, from children to home --- their love
knew no limits.
Sundays were special days with them AND our other set of grandparents (Ging and GaBill). My brother and
I would go to Sunday School and then afterwards, we would hurry upstairs to church where both sets of
grandparents and our parents sat together. After the service, we all went to one of the houses for home made
Sunday dinner. They celebrated their 50th and 65th anniversaries, both with fanfare THEY felt was not necessary but WE felt was very appropriate. At both events,
hudreds of people came from all over the state, and some even from out
of state, to wish them a happy day at the open houses we had for their special days. Grandad died March 4, 1990 in Exeter, Nebraska and Gobby, September 24, 1997 in Friend. She lived long enough to get to hold her first great-
GREAT grandson in our line of the family -- Dakota (Cody). That was one of the
happiest of her days and I treasure the photos of her smiling down at him.