Lester Adair

To me this is Grandpa, weird that as you have your own children you have to define this more clearly.  Oh, Grandpa Adair's Dad, Lester.  

Lester was born August 19, 1917 in Fort Gibson, Oklahoma the 3rd of 4 children.  His father is James Harrison Adair and his mother is Clara Bushjost.  

Clara Bushjost - taken before 1918

When I first was given the picture of Clara I wondered - how would I know for sure this is Lester's mom.  But as soon as I saw this picture of Lester's youngest sister Maxine (age 85 at the time of the picture) I knew - this picture had to be their mother. 

Lester has 2 sisters and one brother:

Lois Josephine Adair Moody (Lois & Wayne), January 5, 1915

Earl Franklin Adair (Earl & Annie), February 8, 1916

Lester Adair

Maxine Nadean Adair Kaup (Maxine and Winton), December 3, 1918
Can you hear Grandma Zola saying their "couple names" . . . .

Maxine, Lester, Earl, Lois

Lester's mother died December 29, 1918.  Just 3 weeks after her sweet baby Maxine was born.  Records say she died of the flu and the influenza or flu pandemic of 1918 to 1919 was the deadliest in modern history.  It infected an estimated 500 million people worldwide, about 1/3 of the planets population at the time.  It is estimated 20 to 50 million died (3 to 5% of the population).  Records say surprisingly, many flu victims were young, otherwise healthy adults.  My personal thought - there is no record of this, after having a baby her body wasn't strong enough to fight of the flu, and as in many instances, it went into her lungs and turned into pneumonia.  

The four children were sent to live with their "Adair" grandparents.  Mack & Minnie Adair and James Harrison headed to Tulsa where he lived until he passed away.  Again, my own speculation but I bet he was thinking "what in the world am I going to do with 4 kids?"

I'll try to be better with using names, not titles.  But it's weird to call grandpa, Lester.  I miss him, and his crooked fingers especially during this time of year.  Sometimes, I have to leave the table during Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner; when I return I smile to myself and I'm a bit sad when my plate is still there.