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She died in 1966 when she was only 54, a shock to everyone. The youngest of 12 kids in a big Irish Catholic family, her older sisters (one, Edith, lived to be 97) outlived her.
Though her name was Sarah Agnes, everyone called her Agnes or Ag. That included her sisters and my Dad, though she always claimed she liked Sarah better, and used to say that "in movies, Agnes is the name of the mule." Nobody listened. But my daughter is named Sarah, not Agnes.
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So to launch this blog, which I hope to use to post interesting family stories, unsolved genealogy problems, and cool old photos. happy 100th, Mama. I'll be shifting soon to my Dunn side as we vacation in North Georgia, the ancestral stomping ground.