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Myrtle A. Batsford
April 8, 1926 ~ October 27, 2023 (age 97) 97 Years Old
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Myrtle A. Batsford of Trumansburg passed away at home surrounded by her family on Friday, October 27, 2023 at the age of 97.
Myrtle was born in Birdsall, NY on April 8, 1926, a daughter of the late Emmett and Marguerite (Warren) Keough. Myrtle was an active 4-H Club Leader volunteer for many years along with serving as secretary of the county 4-H executive committee for many terms. Myrtle along with her husband, Robert “Bob”, were members of the Square-A-Naders Western Square Dance Club from 1971-2014. The two also enjoyed traveling and camping throughout the US, making multiple cross county trips.
Myrtle and Bob built their life on and around their beautiful property, Pair-O-Dice Ranch. Their custom crafted log home provided the perfect place to gather with family and share stories and spend time together. Over the years she taught multiple generations of family and neighborhood children to swim in the pond on their property. Her love of poetry lead her to write and publish four books of poems highlighting the adventures of her life. Myrtle was a devoted wife, mother, grandmother, great grandmother, and friend. The hearts of her family and friends will remained filled with the love she gave throughout her life.
Myrtle is survived by three children, James A. (Maribeth) Batsford, Barbara K. (Lee) Griffin, and Diana L. Poyer; seven grandchildren; and eight great grandchildren. In addition to her parents, Myrtle was preceded in death by her husband, Robert Batsford; son in laws, Dana F. Poyer, Jr. and Fred E. Pfaff, Jr.; and six brothers.
A Celebration of Life and luncheon will be held from 1:00 pm to 4:00 pm on Sunday November 19, 2023 at American Legion Post 770, 4431 East Seneca Road, Trumansburg NY.
The family asks those that would like to make a contribution in Myrtle’s memory to kindly consider the Hospicare of Tompkins County, 172 E. King Road, Ithaca, NY 14850 or to Cornell Cooperative Extension Tompkins County, Attn: 4-H Program, 615 Willow Ave., Ithaca, NY 14850.
Myrtle Agnes, her given name,
Mom, Grandma, Gram, Aunt Myrt, were all the same.
Neighbors, friends, and others just called her Myrt,
Often dressed up fancy in a square dance skirt.
Born on top the hill in old Klipnocky,
Her family farm was really quite rocky.
With six brothers who have all passed
The only girl, and she is the last.
Through high school, she became quite a leader,
But as a young lady, there was no one much sweeter.
Then came the war, letters to many soldiers she’d write,
She met Bob Batsford, it was love at first sight.
A double wedding was held, in that little town,
With people attending from miles and miles around.
Jim, Barb, and Diana came along shortly after,
The horses, the land, the pond, and the log cabin filled with much laughter.
All came together because of their love,
And a helping hand from the one up above.
She started working at Eclipse in Elmira when only a teen,
And at Westinghouse, she felt like a queen,
When moving to Enfield, a waitress at Bill’s,
Then on to Empire Livestock, but there were no frills.
The Federal Reserve Bank, now they had it all,
So there she worked, cause it was a ball.
Allemande left and allemande right,
Only three different dances to go to tonight!
Which dress to wear, if only one knew,
Do si do and ladies pass through
When we were square dancing,
Oh, how the time flew!
Enfield 79ers 4-H Club was the name,
Over the years gaining notoriety and fame,
For taking on new projects, they were always game,
Treating boys and girls all the same.
It was through Mrs. Batsford that the inspiration came!
Coast to coast, and border to border,
Taking the long way, never the shorter.
Camping all over, mountain top or valley,
The number of miles, they never did tally.
Family, friend, and many an attraction to see
Continuing the journey, only stopping to pee.
A good sport for sure, I’m glad to report,
So much to do, and life is so short.
But never in a hurry, or in a big rush,
To go up on the hill to help Grandpa cut brush.
A love of swimming, she certainly did it a lot,
And in teaching us kids, she really was hot.
Deadman’s float was where we would start,
Then kicking our feet was always the next part.
Son, daughters, neighbors’ kids and all,
Grandkids, great grandkids, the big and the small,
All learned to swim, cause teaching us was her call.
Over the years, enjoying the pond,
Creating friendships with an enduring bond.
Of writing poems she often thought,
Selecting the right words she often sought.
Taking up paper and a pen,
Telling tales of now and then.
It’s come to the end, she’s asked us not to grieve,
But remember the good times, as she gets ready to leave.