When I was born on a Sunday evening about 7:00 P.M., we lived next door to my paternal grandparents. For some reason, my dear Mother and my Grandmother Miller did not always see eye to eye. My Dad was the baby of the family and he was spoiled. On the other hand, my Mother came from a totally different type or kind of family. Mom was very intelligent and most of her family members were educators. My Dad had only gone to the third grade, so I believe it is safe to say that they were miss-matched from the beginning.
Be that as it may, Mom worked all of the time while my Dad partied more often than not. It is from my Mother that I received my strong morals and standards. I always strived to please Mom, because had I not, it would have broken her heart.
When I was born on August 11, 1940, my Grandmother Miller wanted to call me "Margaret", but My Mother refused that name saying that I was not going to go through my life being called "Marg." Then my Dad suggested that I be named "Geneva" after his brother's wife, with whom my Mother did not always agree. Since they could not agree on a name for me at all, I was called "Baby" until I started to school at the age of five.
My Mother always worked with us children, teaching us ABC's and how to count to one hundred and she taught us to read before we reached the age of five so we were allowed to skip the Primer and 1st grade so that we could go directly into the second grade.
At this time you did not have to have a Birth certificate nor a Social Security number until you were 16 years old. Mom realized that I had to have a decent name besides "Baby" to enter Elementary School where my Uncle was the Superintendent of schools in our county.
My brother, Allen, had been out helping a neighbor with his tobacco crop and when he came home for lunch, he told my Mother, "I have been riding the most beautiful horse named "Patsy". "Mom, why don't we name the baby "Patsy" after that beautiful horse? Then I had a first cousin on my Mother's side. Her name was Veda Jane. We were raised more as sisters than cousins. Veda had a favorite Sunday School teacher named "Marguerite". So "Marguerite" stuck, also.
My Mother thought we would have to go to court to have my name changed from "Baby" to "Patsy Marguerite."
At the age of 16, I wanted to work at a Department Store downtown in LaFollette to be able to buy clothes for High School, so Mom ordered my Birth Certificate. Sure enough, my Birth Certificate came back as "Baby Girl Miller." And my Mom said, "All right, finally, this girl of sixteen has a legal name". She mailed the Certificate back to Nashville and only then could I receive a Social Security Number. I had already been working for six months. Every time the store owner ask me for my Social Security Card I would tell him, "My Mother has ordered it from Nashville and it should be arriving any day now".
Thank goodness, I finally knew who I was.