My Grandma Edna was the youngest of 7. When her mom Tabitha Belle, pronounced Tab-I-tha, died from typhoid fever after drinking dirty crick water my great aunt Ollie in Coldwater took her in.
The story goes that Ollie brought her to the train station to go back home to Hillsboro, but when her dad saw her he realized that she was better cared for there and he told them to keep her. Grandma Edna was an awesome person, but she never really got over that.
She had a great laugh and could run like a killdeer. Her peachy cream pie placed 2nd at the Ohio State fair, but I was always partial to her mustard salad dressing.
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