Susannah (Bush) Dobbs

If you ever met Susannah Dobbs, you’d remember her gentle smile, her love for a row of hollyhocks by the porch, and the kindness that seemed to radiate from her kitchen door. Born June 28, 1921, in Paintsville, Kentucky, Susannah’s life was stitched together with both hardship and hope, the way so many of our family stories are.

The daughter of John Wesley Bush and Sarah Frances (Stanley) Bush, Susannah grew up learning the value of hard work and the comfort of family. She married young, first to James “Jim” Johnson in West Virginia, and together they welcomed three children—each one a blessing, even if heartbreak visited sooner than it should have. In time, Susannah and Jim went their separate ways, both later finding new paths in life.

Afterward, Susannah found love again and married Raymond Dobbs in the autumn of 1947. With Raymond, she helped blend two families and faced the joys and struggles of raising a large brood. Their home was a true working homestead, with a truck patch that stretched wide—rows of tomatoes, beans, and melons as far as the eye could see. What the family didn’t use or can, Raymond would load up and haul off to sell in town.

They didn’t just grow vegetables, either—Susannah and Raymond raised chickens, selling “fresh” birds to neighbors and folks passing through. And it was well known that if you wanted your chicken ready for Sunday dinner, Susannah would clean it for you—for $2, cash on the barrel. It was honest, hard work, and every dollar helped.

Through the years—whether living in Kentucky, West Virginia, or finally Indiana—Susannah never lost her quiet determination or her deep faith. She was the sort to hum old hymns while tending her hollyhocks, bake a pie for every occasion, and offer a listening ear to anyone in need. Grandkids remember her as the one who always had a cookie, a ripe tomato, or a slice of fresh mushmelon on the table. If you tried her patience, you’d likely hear her say, “Ask me no questions, I’ll tell you no lies,” or the old warning, “Wait till your Dad gets home.”

Even in her final years, as her circle grew to include great-grandchildren, Susannah’s greatest treasure remained her family. She passed peacefully in 1992, leaving behind a legacy of gentle strength, faith, and love that lives on in every story told, every row of hollyhocks, and every summer garden overflowing with maters.

“She never said much, but she didn’t have to—you always knew you were loved, just by the way she set your plate or patted your hand.”