8TH GENERATION CONSTANCE LOUISE HOPSON SALLEE (1) CLYDE FISK AND (2) LIVING

8^th Hopson generation

Constance Louise Hopson

1945-1994

1^st marriage

Clyde Andrew Fisk

1946-1971

2^nd marriage

LIVING

photos

Connie Hopson 1963

Connie and Clyde Fisk Wedding 1963

Connie Sallee 1984

Constance Louise (Connie) Hopson was born 9 November 1943 in Wheelwright, Floyd Co., KY, the third child of Thomas Jefferson Hopson, Jr. and Beulah Frances Ransdell Hopson.

Clyde Andrew Fisk was born 19 July 1946 in Morningview, Kenton Co., KY, the oldest of three children of LIVING parents. (see ancestry of Clyde Fisk on my Rootsweb posting)

Connie and Clyde were married 26 August 1963 in Indianapolis, Indiana. They had three children, two daughters who are living and one son:

i. Andrew Dewey Fisk (1966-1999)

They were divorced in 1971 and Clyde died 23 May 1971 in Morningview, Kenton Co., KY.

Connie’s second marriage took place in Indiana on 13 September 1971. They had two daughters who are living.

Connie died 11 August 1994 at the St. Elizabeth Hospice in Covington, Kenton Co., KY. She is buried in Forest Lawn Cemetery, Erlanger, KY.

After Connie’s death her family members wrote their memories of her and put them together in a memorial book. The following are some excerpts from that book.

Written by her oldest sister: Connie was a cute little girl, with her dark hair cut short and straight with bangs. She was destined to be the shortest one in a short family -- I doubt that she made it to five feet, although that’s how tall she claimed to be. Her best feature was her eyes -- those big, brown eyes.

When I think of Clyde Fisk now, I think how very young he was when we first knew him, just a boy of seventeen. He was slender and wiry, with very dark hair and eyes, and a crooked smile. A little curl usually fell on his forehead. He almost always wore a plaid flannel shirt, winter and summer -- if it got too hot, he just rolled up the sleeves. He and Connie were as much in love as seventeen-year-olds can be, and that is very much in love. They were perhaps foolish and definitely scared, but they went ahead and got married in August of 1963. Connie didn’t go back to school for her senior year, but Clyde did, and I always admired him for sticking with it and graduating. He worked full time while he finished his senior year at Lloyd, and even took Connie to the Prom.

Connie was born to be a mom. She just loved babies, diapers, bottles, all that stuff.

Connie and Clyde bought a big white house on Center Street in Erlanger. Clyde was always working on something, repairing or building. He was good with his hands and liked working with tools, always preferring to be outdoors. Andy, from the time he could walk, was Clyde’s little right-hand man.

Clyde was only 24 years old when he died in May 1971. He barely knew the baby born early that year, and she never got to know him at all. Later that year Connie married again, a marriage that would last until her death 23 years later. She and her second husband had two daughters.

In 1977 Connie bought the sewing machines she needed to start her home sewing and lettering business. It turned out that Connie was more talented, creative and artistic than anyone, even she, had realized. Most important for her, the business enabled her to stay home with her kids where she wanted to be. And it was also her great fortune to have work to do that she really loved doing -- how many people can say that?

Her other older sister wrote of Connie: … a person who was generous almost to a fault, the one of us who made the greatest lifelong commitment to take care of Mom and Dad, the one who warmly welcomed everyone into her comfortable home, the one who forgave any and all slights or wrongs warmly and wholeheartedly, the one who gave and gave and then gave even more to everyone around her…. a person born with a greater-than-average heart, a larger than usual capacity to love and give.

…She really came into her own as a person… She blossomed socially, getting involved in community activities, running around a lot, and forever enjoying the company of friends and neighbors. Her door was always unlocked and open wide, welcoming anyone and everyone into her comfortable home -- her kids’ buddies, her own friends, neighbors, nieces, nephews, and other family, and customers of her sewing business. During this period she matured into the loving mom, wife, and friend she was meant to be, glowing with warmth and pure love of life, rising to meet each crisis and challenge that came along, enjoying the heck out of people and exciting things to do. Bev said it best when she once remarked, “Connie’s house just sparkles with life.”

One of her younger sisters wrote: Connie was always there to make Halloween costumes for my kids. She sewed a fifties poodle skirt for my daughter for school one time. She sewed their names on school jackets and altered the straps on two or three formal dresses. She sewed banners and little flags for Lloyd High School’s band, and she made a special Lloyd Color Guard jacket.

Her husband wrote: We enjoyed doing things together so much. I coached Andy’s knothole baseball team, and that’s how we got involved with the handicapped team. Connie really loved that, God bless her heart. She loved those kids.

We went camping almost every weekend we could. She loved every minute of it. She was proud of that camper. She made a cover for the spare tire with our names on it, and she made a flag with our names on it that she hung out front when we were at a campgrounds.

Connie was a terrific cook. Whatever she made, I loved it. She put that extra touch into her meals. It’s hard to think of a favorite dish, but we all loved her lasagna, and I loved her pecan pie and blackberry jam. Well, I loved everything she cooked. She made a great banana pudding, and she would put meringue on it, but since I didn’t like meringue, she’d make a separate one for me without meringue.

Her oldest daughter wrote: All holidays were special to Mom. On Valentine’s Day the girls always got chocolate chip cookies, the guys got fudge. One year she made us each furry, red stuffed pillows with our names on them. At Easter even we older kids got candy. The kids got baskets, the teens got theirs in coffee filters, then as we got older, we had to share the leftover bowl! Memorial Day was Erlanger’s parade and our cookout. On the Fourth of July we always watched Edgewood’s parade, had a cookout and then watched the fireworks.

Birthdays, we got to choose our favorite home-cooked meal and our favorite cake. On Halloween we had the best homemade costumes. She usually started on them a day or two before. We had a Zesta cracker box, salt and pepper shakers, a dinosaur, Indians, and the Tooth Fairy. Once I was a gypsy and she had me stuff one of her bras with Dad’s socks!

Mom taught us how to love and enjoy storms, snowfalls, sunsets, fall leaves, parades, fireworks, animals, everything under the sun and then some.

Her second daughter wrote: Through the kitchen window we had a wonderful view of the sunset every evening. Mom would always open the curtain just to see the many brilliant colors of the sun’s rays casting across the clouds. She loved the sunsets, and I always said when I had a house of my own, I would be sure there was a window facing the west so I, too, could enjoy the beauty of the sunset. Mom could always spot a rainbow after a rainy day. When I was little, she would take me outside just to see if we might be able to find a rainbow. She also loved thunderstorms, as do I. If the storm wasn’t too bad, we would sit out on the front porch swing and watch the sky grow dark and then grow light again. Once or twice I remember taking walks down Charter Oak Road in the rain. She would just up and decide, “Let’s go walk in the rain!” and we would, laughing the entire time.

Her third daughter wrote: I’ll never forget the trips the four of us took to Florida, Washington, D.C., Tennessee, Georgia, and Indiana. We always had so much fun when we went on trips, we never wanted to come home….

When we went camping at Big Bone Lick State Park, Mom would always make sure there was plenty of food in the camper, and also that everyone had plenty of clothing in case it got too cold or too hot.

I’ll always remember Mom standing next to me in church singing her heart out or watching me in the choir singing my heart out.

Her youngest daughter, only 13 when her mother died, wrote: After she fixed my hair, she would fix my lunch. She would always surprise me and put a note in my lunch bag. One day, she asked me if I ever got embarrassed when I read the notes. I said no. She said, “Good, but I think this will.” Of course, when lunch time came around, I was so eager to open my lunch box to see what she had done. When I took out the sandwich, it was in the shape of a heart.

Her niece wrote: There aren’t enough words to describe Connie’s generosity and willingness to do virtually anything that was asked of her. She was the one steady source of help that everyone could count on in a pinch under any circumstance. When I think of all Connie did for me, ranging from the incredibly stupid (homemade Halloween monster suits for my cats) to the majorly inconvenient, rest assured, Connie would come through. She was a complete, consistent source of help to absolutely anyone in need at any hour of the day or night. To even attempt to recall every kindness Connie ever showed me would simply be impossible. And while I know that her kindness was extended to everyone, I want to publicly thank her again here for bailing me out on many occasions, and for simply doing and being all the days of her life. And equally, I’d like to thank her kids for sharing their mother with me. She was a gift to us all.

Her nephew wrote: Connie was the original designated driver, the prototype. When a trip was planned, all of the cousins and their aunts would pile into her baby blue Ford Torino. With Connie at the wheel there was no destination out of range: the Cincinnati Zoo, the Ohio River, Lincoln’s home, Daniel Boone’s home, Mammoth Cave, we saw them all. She always drove the car because, as history will show, she was the only Hopson sister who could safely drive an automobile. Not only safely, she was good at it too. I was in that car when it turned over 100,000 miles. She drove it around the parking lot so it would click that last tenth.

I remember once calling and she answered, “Hello.”

“Hi, Connie, it’s your favorite nephew,” I said.

Without hesitation, she answered, “Who is this, and what do you want?”

We laughed our heads off, and an hour later I was sitting in her home enjoying her company. She always had the best jokes to tell me and we’d swap stories and laugh the time away.

Another niece wrote: There was nothing in the world that Connie wouldn’t do for her family. She made so many pennants and banners for Lloyd’s band, just because her niece was in it (that would be me, of course). I’ll never forget the time I asked her to make a UK T-shirt that I had designed. At first, she told me that I was crazy, but you know Connie. She had it ready for me three days later. I still have it and will treasure it always.

Connie lived to see two grandchildren, and since her death three others have come along.

When she was sick, she dictated her favorite recipes to her sister, along with other words of wisdom she wanted her children to remember. That book is a treasure for all of us.

Her obituary in the August 13, 1994, Cincinnati Post read as follows:

CONNIE SALLEE, VOLUNTEER, SEWED FOR DARE

The flag at the Edgewood city building flies at half staff today in honor of Connie L. Sallee, Edgewood businesswoman, volunteer and supporter of the DARE drug abuse prevention program throughout Kentucky.

Mrs. Sallee died of cancer at 2 p.m. Thursday at St. Elizabeth Medical Center Hospice. She was 48.

Mrs. Sallee’s business stitching lettering on sports jackets and banners started as a favor to her brother-in-law who owned a sporting goods store. She set up a sewing machine in her home and ended up creating C&C Lettering which she ran for the past 18 years.

She created sports jacket lettering for high schools and sports teams. But it was her work on black satin DARE jackets for police officers and students that won her recognition throughout the DARE network.

“Connie was an unselfish person who had a great belief in the Drug Abuse Resistance Education program,” said Edgewood Police Chief Charles Dickerson. “She made DARE banners and other items for the police department totally free. She did DARE jackets at cost—there was no profit.

“Whenever we asked for help, she was there,” Dickerson said. “She believed in the program and got deeply involved, even at the state level.

She received several awards for her DARE work.

“She taught us to love and respect all people, and she gave us a sense of family,” said her daughter, J. Fisk.

At one time Mrs. Sallee and her husband coached a baseball team for handicapped children. The Sallees turned it into a family affair.

“We had children who were blind. Some were in wheelchairs. They taught them how to play baseball and have fun. We’d never been around children like that before,” Ms. Fisk said. It was a lesson in love and understanding that Ms. Fisk never forgot.

After Mrs. Sallee contracted cancer, doctors told her she would not live to see her second grandchild born. “But she had such a strong will,” Ms. Fisk said. Her second grandchild was born two months ago. “She was there. She got to love him for two months,” Ms. Fisk said.

Last Mother’s Day, Mrs. Sallee’s children had a star named for her.

Mrs. Sallee was a member of the Erlanger United Methodist Church and DARE Association.