ACK

Annabelle Kennedy, 1914-2002

Annie Isabella (Annabelle) Ridgway Clark Kennedy passed away Friday, May 24 in Katy, Texas. Mrs Kennedy was born at Anna Residence on Oaklawn Plantation, Franklin, LA. on December 21, 1914. She was the daughter of Ira Pullen Clark of Columbus, GA. and Elizabeth Gay Thomson of Thomson, KY. both deceased, and the sister of Thomson Clark also deceased. Mrs. Kennedy was a longtime resident of New Orleans. She was preceded in death by her son Colin Angus Kennedy, Jr. Mrs. Kennedy is survived by her daughter Elizabeth Gay Rivet Pearson and son-in-law Rune S. Pearson with whom she made her home in her later years, and three grandchildren and their families, Edward S. Butler IV of Redondo Beach, CA., Nola Elizabeth Butler, her husband Jonas Kulikauskas and great-grandson Matas Gediminas of Pasadena, CA., and Matthew Franklin Thomson Butler, his wife Jessica and great-grandson Samuel Richard, of San Rafael, CA.

Friends are invited to attend a graveside service at Hope Mausoleum on Saturday, June 8 at 11 a.m. Mrs Kennedy was devoted to her cat Fang, and a protector of all animals, and the family requests that in lieu of flowers a donation will be made to the Humane Society.

"Then the Man threw his two boots and his little stone axe (that makes three) at the Cat, and the Cat ran out of the Cave and the Dog chased him up a tree; and from that day to this, Best Beloved, three proper Men out of five will always throw things at a Cat whenever they meet him, and all proper Dogs will chase him up a tree. But the Cat keeps his side of the bargain too. He will kill mice and he will be kind to Babies when he is in the house, just as long as they do not pull his tail too hard. But when he has done that, and between times, and when the moon gets up and night comes, he is the Cat that walks by himself, and all places are alike to him. Then he goes out to the Wet Wild Woods or up the Wet Wild Trees or on the Wet Wild Roofs, waving his wild tail and walking by his wild lone."

--Rudyard Kipling, Just So Stories, 1902

Annabelle was not an easy person to love.

I should have a hundred stories about the fights we had, but I can't remember what they were about. Except that they were frequently when things were going well. I remember the day that I tried to congratulate her for quitting smoking. She wasn't having any of that. Annabelle didn't take praise lightly.

Conversely she was at her best when things were at their worst. She was my foul-weather friend. She knew a lot about how to survive when things were bad, or worse when you had made things bad for yourself.

She helped me in some of the worst moments of my life. She used to say, "it'll pass".

Most of the stories about Fanny that I do remember are funny. She was funny. She had a giant black purse full of funny stories about New Orleans. The bar under the stairs with the stars painted on the ceiling. The time she and her friends flipped their car off the bridge into the lob-lolly mud. The time Christie swallowed the bumble-bee.

Annabelle had alot of stories about the animals she had taken in over the years. There had been alot of them. "Animals are good. They love you unconditionally," she would say.

Annabelle was not an easy person to love, but we do.