Born March 3, 1904 in Illinois
Son of Fredrick A. Knorr and Emma S Kendall
Brother of Lester L. Knorr, Alta Thelma Knorr, and step-brothers, Leo K Pennington, Amos J Pennington and Everett M Pennington
Husband of Sylvia Margueritte Hadd — married May 26, 1927 in Toledo, Lucas, Ohio, United States
Father of Emerson J Knorr, Lucille Knorr, Fred Edward Knorr, Genevieve Knorr Nine, Richard Knorr, Robert Knorr, Michael Knorr and Cathy C. Knorr
Died December 17, 1976 in Adrian, Michigan
Emerson was my Father. As a family man, my father was quiet and gentle natured. He never once laid a hand on me but then he didn't have to! All he had to do was look at me and I knew I had done something wrong. He had these eyes that turned a light, steely grey when he wasn't happy with you. I didn't question that - I just quickly stopped what I was doing!
I only remember Mom and Dad fighting one time - the week my brother went to Vietnam. My father decided to forget by going to the local tavern. (And this was unusual for him). He came home and needless to say, Mom wasn't happy. Dad wasn't either tho - he brought home eggs and eventually those eggs ended up being tossed against the fridge. Do you know that not a single one of those eggs broke? That seemed to lighten the mood a little because Mom just went over, picked them up and put them in the fridge. That ended the fight.
Not bad for growing up in a family is it? One fight that was probably brought on by the stress of a son going to war. I wish every child could have grown up as I did.
Three months before my Dad had his stroke, I had gotten into the habit of calling him every day. I'll never forget some of those conversations. We talked about everything from being a new wife to the local happenings. I was getting to know the "man" that was my father.
Then one day I called and Mom told me he couldn't come to the phone. He had such a severe headache and both Mom and I knew he was having a stroke.
Two and a half years later, he died from that stroke. I am thankful that I finally came to know him as an adult. To be honest, it wasn't enough time but I'm grateful for the time I had with him.
I was probably twelve or thirteen and Dad and I use to go fishing together. I was a tomboy, don't ya know! Still, he would bait my hooks. We would spend hours in that boat not saying a word.
We would troll around that lake and there was a big fish that liked a certain deep hole. One of those times, I hooked it and almost panicked. I knew how badly my father wanted it caught. There was a like this competition between him and that thing. He talked me through it and we were both excited. It got almost to the side of the boat and I lost it! LOL We had a good laugh about that for quite a while.
Another vivid memory I have is at the back of the church when I was about to get married. I hesitated going in and was having a difficult time. He gave me a choice, it was simple. Either you get married or you don't. He had a few other words but I'll keep those to myself. Yes, I did walk down that isle with my Father by my side.
I'm 59 years old and still miss him. I don't think that's ever going to go away.
Sources:
1910 Census:
Emerson was my Father. As a family man, my father was quiet and gentle natured. He never once laid a hand on me but then he didn't have to! All he had to do was look at me and I knew I had done something wrong. He had these eyes that turned a light, steely grey when he wasn't happy with you. I didn't question that - I just quickly stopped what I was doing!
I only remember Mom and Dad fighting one time - the week my brother went to Vietnam. My father decided to forget by going to the local tavern. (And this was unusual for him). He came home and needless to say, Mom wasn't happy. Dad wasn't either tho - he brought home eggs and eventually those eggs ended up being tossed against the fridge. Do you know that not a single one of those eggs broke? That seemed to lighten the mood a little because Mom just went over, picked them up and put them in the fridge. That ended the fight.
Not bad for growing up in a family is it? One fight that was probably brought on by the stress of a son going to war. I wish every child could have grown up as I did.
Three months before my Dad had his stroke, I had gotten into the habit of calling him every day. I'll never forget some of those conversations. We talked about everything from being a new wife to the local happenings. I was getting to know the "man" that was my father.
Then one day I called and Mom told me he couldn't come to the phone. He had such a severe headache and both Mom and I knew he was having a stroke.
Two and a half years later, he died from that stroke. I am thankful that I finally came to know him as an adult. To be honest, it wasn't enough time but I'm grateful for the time I had with him.
I was probably twelve or thirteen and Dad and I use to go fishing together. I was a tomboy, don't ya know! Still, he would bait my hooks. We would spend hours in that boat not saying a word.
We would troll around that lake and there was a big fish that liked a certain deep hole. One of those times, I hooked it and almost panicked. I knew how badly my father wanted it caught. There was a like this competition between him and that thing. He talked me through it and we were both excited. It got almost to the side of the boat and I lost it! LOL We had a good laugh about that for quite a while.
Another vivid memory I have is at the back of the church when I was about to get married. I hesitated going in and was having a difficult time. He gave me a choice, it was simple. Either you get married or you don't. He had a few other words but I'll keep those to myself. Yes, I did walk down that isle with my Father by my side.
I'm 59 years old and still miss him. I don't think that's ever going to go away.
Sources:
1910 Census:
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| Census showing my grandmother Emma Kendall living with someone named Clyne after my grandfather died. |
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