Every time I saw Aunt Barbara, though times to few in recent years, it was a special time for me. The whole McKinney family were our special close people when I was growing up in Baltimore, Ohio. Uncle John and Aunt Barbara lived in a big house by the railroad tracks above the paper mill in the north side of town called "Rome Side." I made a lot of friends on that side of town from going to visit my cousins there, Mike and Pat and Sherri were all right around my age, and until they moved around the end of elementary school, were pretty much my closest buddies. Aunt Barbara was always there making us feel safe and well-fed. After they moved out West, we didn't get to see them so much but once every few years, we'd go back, or they'd come out. I remember one great Thanksgiving in the early '90's – I had just gotten married and we went out to Aunt Barbara and Uncle John's for the holiday. Aunt Barbara showed me her Oldsmobile Aurora, knowing I loved cars. I think she was pretty proud of that car, or at least willing to share the joy. I wish I had come out and visited more often. She was one wonderful lady, and I am proud to be a part of her family. Here's a poem I like for her:Crossing the BarBY ALFRED, LORD TENNYSONSunset and evening star, And one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar, When I put out to sea, But such a tide as moving seems asleep, Too full for sound and foam, When that which drew from out the boundless deep Turns again home. Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark! And may there be no sadness of farewell, When I embark; For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place The flood may bear me far, I hope to see my Pilot face to face When I have crost the bar.Love you, Aunt Barbara.Kenny Workman
