John Andrew Silbernagel
Sex: M
Individual Information
Birth Date: 10 Oct 1940 - New Orleans, Orleans, Louisiana, USA
Christening:
Death: 13 Jul 2018
Burial:
Cause of Death:
Events
• Moved to Atlanta, Ga: Jonesboro, Clayton, Georgia, USA.
• Email: 1/13/08.
Parents
Father: Andrew Frederick Silbernagel
Mother: Hilda Marguerite Durnin {FGID: 135881142}
Spouses and Children
Notes
General:
Per 1950 US Census 4/17/1950 3523 Iberville, New Orleans, Orleans, LouisianaResearch:
Andrew F. Silbernagel is the 37 year old white male head of household, born in Louisiana, as was his family. He is employed as a loading clerk for a railroad, working 40 hours last week. His wife, 39 year old Margaret D. Silbernagel, keeps house. They have 3 children: 9 year old son, John A. Silbernagel; 6 year old daughter, Dianne Silbernagel; and 2 year old daughter, Sandra K. Silbernagel. Additional info on Margaret - her parents were U.S. born, she attended and finished school through 12th grade, and she had no earnings last year.
John Andrew Silbernagel passed away July 13, 2018 at the age of 77. He was born October 10, 1940 to his parents Andrew and Marguerite Silbernagel in New Orleans, Louisiana. A veteran of the United States Army, he was also president of the Lions Club in Kendall Florida and he was Grand Knight of the Knights of Columbus Council #6352 in Jonesboro, Georgia. He retired from Norfolk Southern Railroad. He is survived in death by his wife Ruby Silbernagel and his three children Patricia, Andrew, and Joseph and his five granddaughters Harley, Carmen, Savannah, Emily, and Gracie. He is also survived by his two sisters Dianne Daniel and her husband Warner and Sandy Solar and her husband Rocky as well as many more relatives in his beloved Louisiana.
A memorial service will be held on Sunday August 19 at 3 pm. in the Knights of Columbus Hall in Jonesboro, Georgia.
Atlanta Journal-Constitution, The (GA) May 4, 2003
Christmas down on Bayou St. John 12/26/02
For the past few years I've written about Christmas being celebrated down on Bayou St. John as if it were some kind of exotic and extraordinary place. Well, it is.
The people there are a decent hard working lot, and they were blessed with a rich living area. The affluent live in Lake View and Lake Vista near Lake Pontchartrain. We're not talking trapper's cabins; we're talking opulent multi -million dollar homes, with manicured lawns and palm trees.
Toward the middle of the bayou, is City Park; picnic areas, two-hundred-year-old Live Oak trees, golf courses, tennis courts, baseball and softball fields, and a football stadium where I once played semi-pro football.
Toward the end, where I grew up, was the blue-collar district known as Mid-City - the Third Ward; German and Italian neighborhoods with neutral grounds, banquettes, galleries, stoops, shotgun houses, neighborhood bars and grocery stores. Every ten city blocks there was a Catholic Church and school.
At the head of the bayou was the American Can Company, Mercy Hospital, the Parkway Bakery, Liuzza's Restaurant, and Southern Railway Company's Bernadotte industry switching yard. My Grandfather was a machinist at the railroad's Cortez Street engine roundhouse and shops. My Dad was a railroad warehouse clerk at the main office on the corner of Basin and St. Louis streets. Bayou St. John ran from Lake Pontchartrain to the absolute middle of the City of New Orleans at Bienville Street.
Christmas in the big city was no different than any other area. My sisters and I attended Sacred Heart of Jesus School, a University of Notre Dame affiliate. At school, preparation for the anniversary of Jesus Christ's birth began with Advent Sunday. You see, Christmas then was a religious celebration. We celebrated the birth of Jesus Christ.
Down at the foot of Canal Street large department stores such as D.H. Holmes and Maison Blanche decorated their storefronts with Xmas cheer. We saw Santa Claus, Mr. Bingle, fake snow, electric trains and mechanical dolls that seem to move magically to Xmas music.
You see there was a difference between Christmas and Xmas. We thought Christmas was celebrated in the Catholic schools, whereas Xmas was celebrated in the government schools. We were content with the dissimilarity. We could get up in Christmas morning and see what Santa Claus brought, then go to church and celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ.
As I wrote before, we spent Christmas Day at my maternal grandparent's home in rural St. Helena Parish. Christmas morning was hot cocoa in front of a roaring fireplace, church, then playing with the toys Santa left. The rest of the day involved the arrival of my many cousins, aunts and uncles on my mother's side. We all compared what Santa left us and prepared want lists for next year. Over the years, we all got older. Christmas morning then became a good chance for bird hunting. Many a dove and quail were bagged on that day with brand new shiny shotguns.
Then came the day we all regret. The first year of college kind of takes away that glow we experienced. We took on responsibilities. After college, and the Army Language School, I spent my next Christmas in Seoul, South Korea. It was cold and windy, and living conditions were not unlike those shown on the television program M*A*S*H. Christmas celebration in an Army mess hall just wasn't the same.
As the years passed, I celebrated Christmas through the eyes of my children, and now through my grandchildren. Somehow it just is not the same for me as it was fifty years ago. I see things that interfere with Christmas cheer. I seem to start saying: "Bah, humbug! ". Maybe that comes with age. I don't know.
But then, every Christmas I see that movie starring Jimmy Stewart; "It's a good life". I see things as they may have been, and how we are blessed today. This will be my first Christmas without both my parents. You see, we lost Mother in May. She was a person who seemed to light up a room with her warmness and inspiration. She could have helped Jimmy Stewart's character in his time of need - as she did with us all.
Maybe we all should get on our knees and thank God for the life and times we have enjoyed. We all cannot be blessed by living on Bayou St. John, but then; maybe Bayou St. John is just a state of mind. Maybe there is a Bayou St. John in North Georgia.
John A. Silbernagel
-Just an old retired railroad man-
Edition: Home; The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Section: @issue Page: C2
VOICE OF ATLANTA: Those angry at France show it with their wallets
Author: RICHARD HALICKS
Not everyone in the Voice of Atlanta is upset with France -- in fact, not even a majority. But the ones who are angry are really angry.
... The latest Voice of Atlanta Internet questionnaire asked respondents whether they planned to boycott French wine and other products. Fifty-nine percent said no; 39 percent said probably or definitely.
John Silbernagel is in the definitely group.
"France wants to be the capital of the United States of Europe," said Silbernagel, 62, of Clayton County. "The only way they can become the big dog is to embarrass or otherwise belittle the United States. . . . My mama always told me that you can't make a person taller by chopping everybody else's legs off at the knees. That's what France is trying to do."
Silbernagel, a retired railroad official and Libertarian activist who writes a guest column for the Clayton News Daily, is this angry:
"The people I associate with believe we ought to bring home the heroes that died while trying to save France," he said. "Actually remove them from the cemeteries."
...
Billy
To be perfectly honest, you and I have been lied to so much, I for one seek the smallest glimmer of sunshine anywhere and anyhow I can get it. I was in the Army Security Agency back in the 60s. I was on armed alert during the Berlin Wall crisis, many times when I was in Korea, involved when Park Chung Hee took over March 17, 1962, spent two weeks in Vietnam, and was directly involved in the Cuban Missile Crisis. Each time, I watched guys literally wet their pants in fear. I saw greedy politicians put our boys in jeopardy just to make a point. L.B. Johnson did with the Bay of Tonkin incident. Some of my buddies were captured by the North Koreans in the Pueblo incident. They were unarmed trespassing in unfriendly seas.
It would be of the highest insult if you think "or is that not important to you". I was there - just like your father, only I was a Russian translator and a Spanish interpreter and trained in investigation and interrogation - or did you not know that?
John