When she was young, around 9 years old, her parents separated.
She had a brother 2 years younger than her, so she became a sister/mom to him.
Trying her best to make sure that he was okay at all times.
She made sure he had plenty to eat.
And would even run his bath water each night.
When he cried for his mom, she would put her arms around him and tell him that everything would be okay tomorrow.
Ann had to become an adult much sooner than most children.
Other kids would try picking on her brother, because he was small for his age. But she was always right there to take on whoever tried it, and she would always send them home crying from a good whipping. This caused Ann to become what most people call a "tom boy" type. But she didn't seem to mind. Right up until the day she passed away, she called him, baby brother. I remember one time when her baby brother was put in jail for driving without a driver's license in South Carolina. He was only 16 at the time. Ann had gotten married, and was living in Jacksonville,Fl. When she heard he was in jail, she drove from Jacksonville to Anderson, paid his fine, and took him back home to live with her. She got him a job,and took him to get his license. She will be missed by her friends and family. But most of all, by me, because you see, I'm Baby Brother.

Tommy

She was a great sister. She would call from Jacksonville and ask me if everything was okay. She would have me on her mind and just wanted to know I was all right. Lots of times, something was wrong. I loved her dearly. She was my baby sister. The only sister that was raised up in the house with me. My life will never be the same now that she is gone. But she taught me some things about Faith.
When the doctor told her she had cancer, she believed God would heal her. The doctor said 6-9 months. She lived almost 2 years. But when she realized she was not going to beat it, she started writing letters to her five brothers and four sisters. Telling us how much she loved us, and to please live to make heaven our home so we could be together again. I spent a lot of time with her those two years, in person, and in daily phone calls. She never lost sight on where she was going. She cried some, sure, but she was looking forward to seeing family who were already in heaven. And, one day I will see her again. She told me, in my letter, that she would be standing by the gate waiting for me.

Hold on my sweet little sister... I'm on my way.

Barbara Jean

Ann was 18 months older than me and she was my aunt.
She was more like a sister than an aunt. We grew up fighting and playing like brothers and sister and she taught me how to dance.
To this day I still miss her and have to fight back tears when I think about her.
I will always love her and I am looking forward to seeing her again.

David Jennings