Blanche Marie Whitman Burrell

My Grandmother & My Hero


Grandma I've looked up to, she gave me acceptance and love. She was always there, and of her I thought so much of.

Grandpa was full of smiles, laughing, and always had something to say. I remember the sad day when he passed away.

I couldn't wait to see them, I'd sit in the window in anticipation. Their old gold car coming. A little girl quivering with expectation.

She is stubborn and aloof to some, inside her is a heart of gold. He was friendly and gave me gum- I never knew they were old.

As a child I took them for granted as time was passing away. I see my daughter in her garden, and remember, myself that way.

He adored my son, one daughter carries her name. Today history I record of the people from whence they came.

Simple hardworking farmers and extraordinary grandparents to me. These people which I refer will always be cherished, loved by me.

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Six weeks after Blanche Whitman and Harry Burrell met, they met under the bridge near Becks Mill in Washington Co Indiana, and planned to run away and get married, the following week, on 23 April 1927. Both fibbed on the marriage license, making themselves older, in order to avoid needing parental consent. A few months later Blanche is feeling sick and doesn't understand why. A co-worker at the dress factory tells her she's "expecting". She always thought the Doctor brought babies, she had no idea. Nine months to the day of their marriage, their first son was born. Two more sons and two daughters would bring their total children to five. They were married 62 years and 10 months when Harry died at age 84, on Valentines Day 1990. Blanche died one month past her 97th birthday, on 26 October 2007.
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Not a day goes by where I don't think of Grandma. She was indeed my hero. She loved me unconditionally, no matter my mistakes. She was there for me when I needed her. I wish, with all my heart, that I could have just one more day with her... if only in my dreams.