Our Family Story

Every family has a story. Ours began with Donald W. Casey and Margaret Guthro—Granddad and Grandmom—and grew into something neither of them could have imagined.

Donald was born September 2, 1918, and Margaret on September 21, 1920. Together, they built a family of nine children: Donna, Nancy, Jack, Ward, Linda, Shirley, Susie, Michael, and Bruce.

And Granddad was all about family.

In fact, family was at the center of just about everything. There were Family Christmases, Fourth of July picnics, weekends spent together, music around the piano, football celebrations, and the kind of gatherings where somehow there was always room for one more person.

Granddad had a particularly special relationship with his grandchildren. The first generation of grandchildren included Cheri, Tammy, Casey, Julie, Joey, Jennifer, Jamie, Michael, David, Christopher, Kristin, Emily, David, and others who would continue to expand the family tree. As the years passed, grandchildren became parents, and the family continued to grow into great-grandchildren and now another generation beyond that.

Granddad used to joke that after having nine children, he wasn't getting much of a return on his investment when it came to grandchildren. But eventually, the numbers caught up with him.

At one Family Christmas many years later, Granddad looked around the room at the crowd of people surrounding him and asked Cheri,

“Where did all these people come from?”

Cheri's answer was simple:

“You.”

And that pretty much says it all.

For Tammy, Granddad wasn't always “Granddad.”

He was George.

It wasn't his name. It just worked.

And when Linda passed away, Granddad's family took on an even deeper meaning. Cheri, Tammy, and Casey went to live with him. Granddad joked that he had finally gotten his even dozen children.

The family kept growing, but some things never changed.

There was always music.

Granddad at the piano is one of those memories that seems to belong to everyone. There are countless memories of him playing “The Entertainer.” There was the time he played the piano while the family gathered around singing “Hail to the Redskins” after the Redskins beat the Miami Dolphins in the Super Bowl.

And then there was “Piano Man.”

Years later, at Kristin and Steven's wedding, the grandchildren sang “Piano Man” together in Granddad's memory.

Because that's what he was.

Our Piano Man.

But family memories aren't always sentimental.

Sometimes they're the stories that make everyone laugh every time they're told.

Like the time Granddad dove into the pool and his teeth fell out.

Or Joey's memory that Granddad was the only person he ever witnessed who could make his father, Ward, stop during a road trip.

Those are the stories that become family folklore—the ones that get retold, embellished, laughed about, and passed down.

And then there are the tastes and smells that bring people home.

Who remembers Grandmom's Angel Food cakes?

Some memories live in photographs. Some live in stories. Some live in songs.

And some live in a recipe, a family joke, a familiar tune on a piano, or the sound of everyone laughing around a table.

That is our family.

Donald and Margaret's nine children became grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and generations still being added today. People married into the family and became part of it. Stepchildren became family. Some people we've loved are no longer here, but they remain woven into the story.

The family has changed. It has grown. Life has taken people in different directions.

But the thread running through all of it is the same one Granddad understood from the beginning:

Family matters.

And if Granddad could somehow walk into one of our family gatherings today, look around at all of the people who came from those nine children, and ask once again,

“Where did all these people come from?”

We already know what Cheri would say.

“You.”