Orval and Therese Epperson
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This is the story of Orval and Therese Epperson. My mother, Tirzah (Epperson) Federer, had asked me to help her research our family history. She found it fascinating and wanted it written down to be passed on to future generations. It had been her lifelong pursuit that was paused for several decades while she raised her eleven children. She died in 2015 and just before that she reiterated her appeal, "Winnie, please continue my research." Although I was overwhelmed by the request, not knowing how or when I could possibly accomplish this, a few years later I found myself with children grown and...
This is the story of Orval and Therese Epperson. My mother, Tirzah (Epperson) Federer, had asked me to help her research our family history. She found it fascinating and wanted it written down to be passed on to future generations. It had been her lifelong pursuit that was paused for several decades while she raised her eleven children. She died in 2015 and just before that she reiterated her appeal, "Winnie, please continue my research." Although I was overwhelmed by the request, not knowing how or when I could possibly accomplish this, a few years later I found myself with children grown and free time on my hands. Around that same time, our dear cousin, Eppy (William Epperson Giles), son of my mother's sister, Joan (Epperson) Giles, sent an email to our Federer family. He had come across several drafts of stories that his mother had written. She, too, had died in 2015, a few months after our beloved mother. These stories were precious, indeed. For you see, Joan recorded her father as he told the stories of his life during the long months he convalesced from cancer treatment, 1975- 1976. Joan had traveled from her home in California to spend months living with Dede and Poppy in the small town of Neosho, collecting precious snippets of his early life on a Southwest Missouri farm in the 1890s, WWI stories, life with his cherished wife, Therese DeBrosse, and much more. Without Joan's painstaking work of recording and transcribing Orval's words, the story of his life would remain untold. Furthermore, without the foresight of her son, Eppy Giles, who took the time to go through her papers and notes and forward them on to his cousins in St. Louis, this book would not exist. Serendipity? Divine intervention? Two sisters in heaven urging us along to finish the book? I prefer to think Joan and Tirzah, along with their brother, Billy, who died tragically at the age of 22 during WWII, are having a wonderful time watching this play out. And of course, I hope that Orval and Therese are pleased with the outcome. We will have to wait to ask I would like to acknowledge my brother, James Robert (Jim) Federer for his help in researching our ancestry. Jim's research on our family lineage is extensive, going back to the 1500s, and without his help, historical data would be missing. But, make no mistake, this book is the voice of Orval William Epperson, our grandfather Poppy. His Southwest Missouri humor, relaxed and intimate storytelling, earthy language, and matter-of-fact voice are unique to him and the era in which he grew up.
