A Personal Remembrance of Nancy Carol Cornelius Morton (1945-2024) by Glenn N. Holliman

The Loss of a Cousin

Growing up in the 1950s and 60s in Alabama, we knew the elder daughter of Walter F. (1922 -2007) and Virgina Holliman Cornelius  (1922-2011) by her full name, Nancy Carol.  Later in adulthood, we knew her as only Carol, a gregarious, attractive lady, who at family reunions greeted relatives with a sunshine smile and was quick to ask how you and others were doing. I would describe her personality as 'sparkling', lighting up a room by her presence.

Carol grew up in Birmingham, Alabama, attended Shades Valley High School and later the University of Alabama.  Her first home was in nearby Shelby, where her grandparents ran a country store.

Right, Virginia and Walter in 1945.

In the 1950 census, her father is recorded as the manager of the store.  Ambitious, Walter, a World War II veteran, earned a law degree in 1953 and lawyering became his career.  Her mother, Virginia, my father's youngest sister, after giving birth in 1949 to a second daughter, Susan, became a teller in a bank, and made banking a career, breaking many class ceilings rising to a vice president of one of Alabama's major financial institutions.

Below, the Cornelius family in 1959

Carol, herself became a nurse and married Carl A. Blomstran in 1966. Settled in Texas,  the marriage brought forth a daughter Carla Ann and a son, Eric Walter Blomstran.  Tragically, Eric died in 2002 in an automobile wreck. In a second marriage, Carol gave birth to another son, Richard Bruce Kilian. He too died prematurely in 2014 on an airplane flight.

                                               Right, Carol and Chuck in the 1990s

It is said three is a charm, and so it was for Carol in 1993 when she became the wife of a Navy veteran, Charles (Chuck) E. Morton.  A deep-sea explorer for the Navy, a leg injury forced an early retirement from the service.  Chuck, a kindly, caring man of faith, became her caregiver in the 2010s when Carol developed the same illness that took her mother, Alzheimer's.  Chuck, having relocated to Mexico for supporting assistance, stood by her for years until she slipped away in October 2024.  

Before growing ill in the 2010s, Carol, Chuck and I visited, once in their home in San Antonio, again at my sister Becky's home in Tennessee and finally for the last time in 2014 when they stayed with my wife, Barb, and me in Pennsylvania.  During these visits, Carol shared her memories of growing up during the Civil Rights era in Birmingham, Alabama (where we both were born, she in 1945, me in 1946). Both our fathers were WWII veterans and both completed college and advance degrees thanks to the GI Bill.

In 2012, Carol and Bishop Holliman holding a photograph of Bishop's great grandmother, Mary (Polly) Holliman

Looking back, Carol told me of the difficult marriage of her parents, eventually resulting in a divorce. She described how insulated she had been of the history that was occurring in Birmingham during her teens. She like me had attended racially exclusive schools and churches as we both came of age in a deeply segregated society. We marveled at how America had changed for the better, a more open inclusive country.  She shared with me her growing faith which had supported her when she lost her two sons. Both in our 60s at the time of these conversations, I was touched and enriched by her memories and reflections on her life's journey.  

She is gone now, at peace after a long, lingering illness, escorted and blessed in her final days by a very caring husband. He now lives in Colorado with a relative. If ever there was a saint, his name is Chuck.  - GNH