A Letter from Alfred Bosworth (1773-1861) – to His Brother Hezekiah

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Alfred Bosworth’s Letter to His Brother Hezekiah


Alfred BOSWORTH (1773 – 1861)
4th great-grandfather
Benjamin Franklin BOSWORTH M.D. (1801 – 1843)
son of Alfred BOSWORTH
Franklin Smith BOSWORTH (1832 – 1919)
son of Benjamin Franklin BOSWORTH M.D.
Frank Hunt BOSWORTH (1870 – 1919)
son of Franklin Smith BOSWORTH
Dr. Wilder Morris BOSWORTH Sr., D.D.S. (1905 – 1990)
son of Frank Hunt BOSWORTH
Capt. Frank Hunt BOSWORTH II (1933 – )
son of Dr. Wilder Morris BOSWORTH Sr., D.D.S.

1955 Perkinston Junior College-Perkettes Featuring Gulfport Baton Twirling Champion

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1955 Perkettes To Give Performance At Home-coming Tilt, Perkinston Jr. College, Mississippi

Me and My Daddy Jim

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“Old as she was, she still missed her daddy sometimes.”

—Gloria Naylor


I was born a Bosworth, but, my parents divorced before my first birthday and I never knew my biological father until I graduated from high school. So, my “Daddy Jim Estrada” is the father I knew as my special angel when I was growing up on the Mississippi Gulf Coast as an Air Force brat. My Daddy Jim adopted me when he married my mother – I was just a little tiny girl about 2 1/2 years old. I remember so much about him. He was a wonderful daddy to me. Sadly, he was killed as a pilot flying in the USAF flying Strategic Air Command program when we were stationed at Bunker Hill Air Force Base in Indiana. I was just six when a terrible accident happened. He was flying in a B-58 (“Hustler”) bomber. One day I’ll write the story of my Daddy Jim. I am just as devastated today by his death as I was when I was told he was killed. It is a difficult thing to remember back to his death, but, it is a story worth telling as it colored my whole life and my perceptions of life in general. Little girls need their daddies.

Jim Estrada and Tenderly Rose
Not a very good photo of a photo – but, it is priceless to me. This is Daddy Jim and me at the Biloxi Amusement Park.
When we were stationed at the Air Force Base in Altus, Oklahoma we went on a picnic after my baby “tister” was born. This is me and Daddy Jim and my “Lambie”.


Daddy Jim Estrada and Tenderly 1959 when we were stationed at the Air Force base in Altus, Oklahoma.

Visiting Mamaw (Rosie S. Morris) at Easter Time. At this time we were living in Oklahoma, but, always visited Mamaw whenever we could. – In this photo: Me, Daddy Jim and my sister at Hungry Hill on Wisteria Street in Gulfport, Mississippi.

Thinking of Mamaw – today is her birthday…

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Rosa Ann Elizabeth Smith as a young woman. Cir. 1915. 

Photo of my grandmother as a young woman fresh out of nursing school at Rockefeller Hospital. Cir. 1915. She was born and raised in the Mississippi woods. She was the daughter of John George Smith and Mary Jane Rice of Seminary, Mississippi. Rosie was a private duty nurse and registered nurse at Kings Daughters Hospital and Gulfport Memorial Hospital. Her daughter, Jane Morris Estrada, was my mother.
BIRTH: 8 DEC 1895 • Seminary, Covington, Mississippi, USA

DEATH: 31 MAR 1984 • Gulfport, Harrison, Mississippi, USA


Beatriz Zuniga Dónde Estás?

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My mother had numerous baby books for me, some she sent me years ago and then others she had hidden from me because they had my birth last name in them. I’ve been scanning in old photos, some I’ve never seen, from a baby book I had never seen until after my mother passed away a few years ago and it was sent to me.
I found this photo of a young woman named Beatriz Zuniga holding me as I chewed on my mother’s twirling baton. On the back of the photo was Beatriz’s name, and a note that she was from Guatemala. I later found a note in my baby book that Beatriz was my “Honorary Godmother”. I was raised as a Southern Baptist, so in those days there were not really any Godparents for our religion. I had several I knew of when I was growing up, but, none were ever involved in my life when I was growing up, so I was surprised to find this photo. The photo was taken at the University of Southern Mississippi, where I stayed in the Home Ec Dept. while my mother attended school there.
My mother called the young students who cared for me overnite on campus in the Home Ec buildings my “Southern Mommas”. My mother stayed in a dorm with her sorority sisters on campus. These students were responsible for my care as part of the curriculum there at USM. I am amazed with this photo — I’ve had a lifelong love affair with the Spanish language and cultures that speak the language. I only know a little bit of Spanish. I am wondering if my Southern Momma Beatriz had an influence in my infancy that fostered my love of diversity.
There are many other reasons I love the Spanish/Mexican/South American culture and language, but, I have to say I was very intrigued to learn of Beatriz yesterday. I spent some time on Ancestry looking for Beatriz Zuniga. There were several. I thought I’d share this photo with you because it is so sweet. I’d love to find her. But, if I can’t find her, I know she is special to me. I will share this little story on my blog, The Tenderly Rose Collection. Wouldn’t it be neat if somehow I could reconnect with her?
Beatriz Zuniga, University of Southern Mississippi, Hattiesburg, 1956 holding Tenderly Rose – the Home Economics baby. Beatriz was an “honorary godparent” to Tenderly Rose.

The Ghosts of Gulf Gardens Come Alive in Daily Herald article by Geoff Pender

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Gulf Gardens
Gulf Gardens
Gulf Gardens
Gulf Gardens
Gulf Gardens
Gulf Gardens



A birthday party in Gulf Gardens, Gulfport, MS, for Tenderly Rose at 1711 Wisteria Street. Circa 1958.

I would like to personally thank Geoff Pender of the Daily Herald for this article. My mother, Jane Morris Estrada was interviewed in the piece. I learned things about the neighborhood I grew up in that I’d not been aware of and I also was reminded of the unique and very precious experiences I had as a child in this Gulfport community. Since the time this article was published, much has changed for this neighborhood and many of the fears of the neighbors have continued, even worsened. I can tell you Gulf Gardens was an American dream that bore amazing fruit. The Gulf Coast was a much better place to have had such a place called Gulf Gardens. The heartbreaking truth is that very little is left of the neighborhood I grew up. When I was born, I came home from Memorial Hospital to that home the Morrises built in 1935. That house and yard will always be my home. I had hoped to return to Gulf Gardens to finish my days there as both my grandmother and mother did. This is not to be. Cherish the old neighborhoods. Remember the folks who lived and loved there. Our spirits will never leave there. Gulf Gardens was truly “Home Sweet Home”.

We take for granted, sometimes, that which is steady and true…

— Tenderly Rose