Pamela Sue Hood Vaughn

Sept. 2, 1947 – March 17, 1993

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Pam Vaughn was dedicated to the White Oak Pond Christian Church of  Richmond, Madison Co., KY and was the first person buried there since the 1800's.  She was a very shy, sweet, loving person and gave all she had to her children.  She was 5'3" with dark brown curly hair, blue eyes and baby soft skin.  She died after a three-year battle with ovarian cancer in 1993 followed by the death of her mother and sister of the same illness.  She was 47 years old when she passed away.  She was a homemaker most of her life until her kids were in high school, then she worked at Eastern Kentucky University, Richmond, KY in the Registration Office.  As her kids were growing up, she made many of their clothes and was a hairdresser to her family.  She was always there for them, no matter what they or anyone else needed.  She always gave her all and gave it with a smile on her face.  She was loved by many and they surrounded her during her illness.  She took everything in stride and rarely complained during her greatest suffering of cancer.  She loved God and is happy to be with him now.

 

Written by her daughter

 

 

Stories she wrote in English class at EKU:

 

My Grandfather

 

I grew up living in big cities like Detroit and Atlanta, so when I visited my grandparents farm in the summer as a child, it had special meaning in my life.  The quiet simplicity of farm life, the work it took to take care of the farm and the special times I had with my grandfather were all that made my time special when I visited there.

 

My grandparents house lacked the modern conveniences of running water, a bathroom, or even a central heating & air conditioning system.  There were no airplanes flying overhead or cars backfiring and honking their horns to break the quietness of the days and nights.  You could sit on the porch, relax and enjoy the sounds in the morning.  The wind would whisper through the trees, the roosters crowed, and the cows mooed as they moved out into the fields where the green grass was the highest.  My grandfather worked from morning until night.  I usually woke up every morning as the screen door on the back porch snapped shut as my grandfather returned from his chore of milking the cows.  The rest of the day, I would go with him as he fed and collected the eggs from the chickens in the hen house.  Then he would go out to the pig pen and feed the pigs slop, which was a mixture of left over food and corn.  After that, I would usually help him pick ears of corn of the tall green stalks and help my grandmother shuck the husks off so we could have corn-on-the-cob for dinner.

 

But the things I remember most that made my time there very special  were the times that my tall rugged grandfather took time out form his hard work to give special attention to me.   He would take me for rides on the big red farm tractor he had.  We would ride over the fields and through the small patches of woods.  Sometimes, he would even set me in his lap and let me guide the tractor over the rough trails. 

 

The peacefulness and tranquility of the farm had a calming effect on me while I was there.  Also the discipline it takes to make the gardens grow and the tending of the animals to provide the food showed me responsibility.  But the love my grandfather showed me stayed with me and warmed my heart as I returned to the noise and bustle of the big city.

 

Written by Pamela Vaughn

 

 

My Mother

 

My mother would do anything I asked her to do.  She has always listened to all my problems and been understanding and not accusing, or talking sides.  But I can’t convince her that I don’t want knit bell bottom pants for my birthday, or that my arms are too short for the average size blazers.  Never-the-less, I keep the peace by telling her I love her presents, just to make sure she’s always there when I need her.

 

Written by Pamela Vaughn

 

 

Mother’s Day Card given to her by her daughter:

 

A Mom finer than you I could not name ---

In fact, you belong in the Hall of Fame ---

No matter what happens, Your love stays the same;

And as for the gray hairs… I’ll take the blame!

 

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[Thomas H. Vaughn Obit] [Webber Vaughn Obit]
[Margaret Craig Obit] [Henry Pope Obit] [Family Tree]

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