I also remember reading an article about communities going to a widow’s home, armed, to tell the bank rep to fuck off. It included a picture of 6 to 8 men with rifles at a homestead with a sign saying not to harass the widow. I can’t find anything right now though.
Things were improving for quite awhile and folks got complacent, combone that with death of the community, the hard right switch of most churches, and talk radio and well make a fucken guess.
In a recent thread somebody said their great grandmother killed her abusive husband and took their daughter from Texas up to Alaska to live. Another person said their grandmother just made stabbing motions and said something like, “took care of him.”
My grandmother’s aunt fled to Australia after half her family died of dysentery. It was a very sad story for a very long time in the family and the town. Her husband moved the whole family across the Atlantic Ocean to Canada away from her immediate relatives in England because of a good job and land prospects. But their household was stricken with a bloody flux a few months later and sadly only the women survived, alone in a foreign country with nothing. It was just a sad and dark part of our family history growing up, we were taught to respect our great great aunt because she’d “been through a lot and faced it bravely” with watching her family die. As a teenager I could tell there was more going on by the way the older adults glanced at each other, but never knew what.
I was 30 when mum told me that my great great uncle was an abusive pick who moved his wife overseas to isolate her so he could get away with more, and it wasn’t a coincidence that he and his “apple that never fell off the tree” son both shit themselves to death after eating a family dinner, but his wife was fine.
Sometimes a pot roast only goes bad on one side. Any cook’ll tell ya that,
My family skeleton has nothing to do with abuse. My great grandmother got addicted to Laudanum, an old-timey pain killer opiate. To support her habit her husband Barney eventually mortgaged the family farm - which already had a mortgage on it that he didn’t tell the second bank about. He got found out and the sheriff came out to arrest him. Barney asked to go in the house and collect some clothes to take along. He then went into his den, poured himself a shot of whiskey, took a pipe he had smoked for years and scraped the glaze out of the bowl - a powerful storehouse of concentrated nicotine - which he dissolved in the whiskey. He downed this shot and gave himself a quick heart attack. Apparently this was a fairly well known method of suicide back then.
Dieing from too much nicotine must be a hell of a way to die.
Also imagine just being able to kill yourself at any moment by knawing on some gunk in your pipe. My ADHD ass would be dead within a week cause I HAVE to know what it tastes like 😭
Dunno how much nicotine it would take to kill you but dissolving it in a shot was probably a lot more pleasant than gnawing on it lol. I imagine your heart just gets cranking like a drum machine until it seizes up, probably in a couple minutes - might feel a lot longer. Less messy than a gunshot tho.
She was my grandmother’s aunt so I think that makes her my great great aunt, because my great aunt is my grandma’s sister. I think that’s how it works? There are several 25+ year age gaps between siblings in our family so everyone is “aunty, uncle, cousin” based on age not relationship, my dad is called “uncle” even by me at family events.
This is super helpful! The legend in question is my great grand aunt (that term is so much less of a mouthful!)
Most of the people I call “Aunty” are my cousins, and the people I call “Cousin” appear to be my 1st cousin once removed, 1st cousin twice removed, and 2nd cousins once removed. (we’ve definitely been using “removed” wrong in my family, we would say “removed” for the lateral move across the tree, not the vertical parent child line. Eg I would say “she’s my 2nd cousin” but I’d mean 1st cousin once removed, or I’d say “he’s my cousin twice removed” but what I’d mean is, he’s my 3rd cousin)
We’re definitely still going to stick with our age based language in our family. No point getting clinical when the language we use is about the dynamics we hold. if you’re 20+ years older you’re my aunty/uncle, if you’re the same age you’re a cousin, if you’re younger than me you’re my nibbling. It’s all vibes based relationship terminology.
Abusive husbands also used to “go missing” a lot more too.
Yeah though towns used to rule together to beat the shit out of bankers forclosing on widow’s homes, so that’s something we could start doing again.
So you have a source for that? Sounds plausible but also too good to be true.
local asshole gets shot by town, no witnesses the sheriff also conveniently left town after telling the group to not confront the guy and just form a neighborhood watch.
I also remember reading an article about communities going to a widow’s home, armed, to tell the bank rep to fuck off. It included a picture of 6 to 8 men with rifles at a homestead with a sign saying not to harass the widow. I can’t find anything right now though.
I mean penny auctions were a well documented thing. Americans used to be metal. Wonder what happened?
Things were improving for quite awhile and folks got complacent, combone that with death of the community, the hard right switch of most churches, and talk radio and well make a fucken guess.
NYTimes, July 12, 1952
They ultimately got her, but they put up a hell of a fight.
Not a banker, but there is the case of the town where most everyone was present for the murder, but nobody saw it happen Link
Imagine being such a piece of shit that absolutely everyone that saw you die and heard you died won’t snitch. That is a feat at this point
In a recent thread somebody said their great grandmother killed her abusive husband and took their daughter from Texas up to Alaska to live. Another person said their grandmother just made stabbing motions and said something like, “took care of him.”
My grandmother’s aunt fled to Australia after half her family died of dysentery. It was a very sad story for a very long time in the family and the town. Her husband moved the whole family across the Atlantic Ocean to Canada away from her immediate relatives in England because of a good job and land prospects. But their household was stricken with a bloody flux a few months later and sadly only the women survived, alone in a foreign country with nothing. It was just a sad and dark part of our family history growing up, we were taught to respect our great great aunt because she’d “been through a lot and faced it bravely” with watching her family die. As a teenager I could tell there was more going on by the way the older adults glanced at each other, but never knew what.
I was 30 when mum told me that my great great uncle was an abusive pick who moved his wife overseas to isolate her so he could get away with more, and it wasn’t a coincidence that he and his “apple that never fell off the tree” son both shit themselves to death after eating a family dinner, but his wife was fine.
Sometimes a pot roast only goes bad on one side. Any cook’ll tell ya that,
My family skeleton has nothing to do with abuse. My great grandmother got addicted to Laudanum, an old-timey pain killer opiate. To support her habit her husband Barney eventually mortgaged the family farm - which already had a mortgage on it that he didn’t tell the second bank about. He got found out and the sheriff came out to arrest him. Barney asked to go in the house and collect some clothes to take along. He then went into his den, poured himself a shot of whiskey, took a pipe he had smoked for years and scraped the glaze out of the bowl - a powerful storehouse of concentrated nicotine - which he dissolved in the whiskey. He downed this shot and gave himself a quick heart attack. Apparently this was a fairly well known method of suicide back then.
Dieing from too much nicotine must be a hell of a way to die.
Also imagine just being able to kill yourself at any moment by knawing on some gunk in your pipe. My ADHD ass would be dead within a week cause I HAVE to know what it tastes like 😭
Dunno how much nicotine it would take to kill you but dissolving it in a shot was probably a lot more pleasant than gnawing on it lol. I imagine your heart just gets cranking like a drum machine until it seizes up, probably in a couple minutes - might feel a lot longer. Less messy than a gunshot tho.
She was really just your great aunt but you say great twice out of respect.
She was my grandmother’s aunt so I think that makes her my great great aunt, because my great aunt is my grandma’s sister. I think that’s how it works? There are several 25+ year age gaps between siblings in our family so everyone is “aunty, uncle, cousin” based on age not relationship, my dad is called “uncle” even by me at family events.
Let me guide you through this darkness with the chart they give every first year law student.
This is super helpful! The legend in question is my great grand aunt (that term is so much less of a mouthful!)
Most of the people I call “Aunty” are my cousins, and the people I call “Cousin” appear to be my 1st cousin once removed, 1st cousin twice removed, and 2nd cousins once removed. (we’ve definitely been using “removed” wrong in my family, we would say “removed” for the lateral move across the tree, not the vertical parent child line. Eg I would say “she’s my 2nd cousin” but I’d mean 1st cousin once removed, or I’d say “he’s my cousin twice removed” but what I’d mean is, he’s my 3rd cousin)
We’re definitely still going to stick with our age based language in our family. No point getting clinical when the language we use is about the dynamics we hold. if you’re 20+ years older you’re my aunty/uncle, if you’re the same age you’re a cousin, if you’re younger than me you’re my nibbling. It’s all vibes based relationship terminology.