Interred January 11, 1963.∼Mrs. Nina B. Woodford, 76, a lifelong resident of Sergeant Bluff, died Wednesday at a Sioux City hospital after an illness of three weeks.
Mrs. Woodford was born May 31, 1886, in Sergeant Bluff where she graduated from high school. She was married to Homer L. Woodford in Sergeant Bluff November 34, 1909.
Mrs. Woodford taught in Woodbury county schools and was a member of Sergeant Bluff Community Methodist Church, the W.S.C.S., the Federated Women's Club and Chapter DX, P.E.O. She was a former board member of the Mary Elizabeth day nursery.
The W Harry Christy funeral home, 1801 Morningside Avenue has charge of arrangements.

Thanksgiving recollections by Doris Woodford Nash (daughter)
Thanksgivings at the farm home and presided over by my mother, Nina, and father, Homer, proceeded in much the same manner as those held by my Grandfather and his daughter, Aunt Faith. Guests always included the immediate family and their spouses and later, grandchildren. Neighborhood friends such as Pete and Myrtle Rivard were always present as were Roaine Hite, a relative of mother's and uncle Herbert, mother's brother. Aunt Faith was always present. Faith Frances, daughter of Aunt Pearl, always made an effort to be present.
At the time of the Sergeant Bluff Thanksgivings, a transition in refrigeration occurred. In the early years the food was cooled by ice taken from the Missouri River and by placing the food in deep wells. My father had a large ice house on the farm and the ice was used for preservation of food throughout the year, including Thanksgiving. Electricity was introduced for use in the homes and resulted in refrigeration as we know it today.
The food fro Thanksgiving dinner at our home was home grown. We had chickens hatched and raised on the far, cattle, and hogs from brood sows. Thanksgiving dinner included beef, pork and fowl. Vegetables were carrots, beans, peas, beets, rutabagas and potatoes, all raised in the family garden. Dairy products were from our cows. Mother made the butter from whole cream. We had a separator for the cream. We had "real" butter. Large crocks of milk stood constantly on the wood-burning stove for making cottage cheese. Fruit grown included currants, gooseberries, cherries, mulberries, grapes, strawberries, rhubarb, elderberries, and raspberries. These fruits were converted into jams, jellies, or eaten fresh and as sauce. We raised pumpkins and squash, and pumpkin pie appeared at Thanksgiving covered by "real" whipped cream. Home-made minced meat pies were common. Mother specialized in burnt-sugar cake. She burned her own sugar for the cake and frosting. It appeared occasionally at Thanksgiving.
Entertainment during these years was pretty much unchanged. Parlor games continued, followed by music. Aunt Faith organized the music, and she had a wide repertoire of piano numbers. Father would still play the fiddle, if encouraged. The girls also played the piano and sane, and Joyce would play her violin. Games were Rook, Dominoes, whist, various puzzles, hearts, marble games and reading to the children.

Letter written by Norma Busly(?)at the time of Nina's death
A letter came in the mail today, saying that Aunt Nina is dead. I cannot believe that it is actually true. Aunt Nina has always been a part of my life. When the sun sets tonight, tell me that it is gone forever, not to arise again in the morning. That will be no harder to believe. Even though I have seen Aunt Nina only three or four times in the last twenty years, she still represents the utmost in family security to me.
My earliest memories of Aunt Nina are of the tall trees and ankle deep grass in her yard. We had no trees or grass in our yard in Montana. We had no screened porch, either, no a combination root and cyclone cellar that smelled deliciously of potatoes, apples, onions and good rich Iowa dirt. These memories of sight and odor stretch back to my pre-school days. We visited in Iowa twice before I was six years old. Then when my mother was hospitalized with cancer from late November until May in the winter of 1028-1929, Aunt Nina immediately announced that my two year old brother and myself should come home with her. Back we went to that wonderful house. The house seemed very grand to me, a fireplace flanked by huge bookshelves, an open staircase, and a piano in the living room. A play room upstairs, with and open balcony above the back porch. A laundry chute from the third floor to the basement, exiting to jump into on a washday morning when the clothes reached up to the level of the kitchen floor opening.
Is this a description of a woman, or a house, I can hear you ask. To me, Aunt Nina was the house. Together they will always mean home, and family. I have only the faintest recollection of the other members of the family, five cousins, and Uncle Homer.
Aunt Nina was not a pretty woman. She had a solid, matronly figure, wore glasses and had short kinky hair that was always a trial to her. What she did with her hair when she was a girl and long hair was the fashion, I can't imagine. Ever since I can remember, she kept it about two inches long, and jokingly insisted that she combed it with a curry comb.
Her attitude toward life was definitely positive. Every member of the family was expected to do their share of the work. She never asked, "Have you made your bed?," but stated, "When the beds are made, you may go out to see the kittens," or whatever it was that had been planned. She had an abiding faith in our talents and abilities. Wasn't it nice that I could sing, while Cousin Jean, with me enviously watching, increased her piano practice time by accompanying my song?
School grades were expected to be high. After all, we were Prescotts, which meant we had in us the blood of professors as well as of soldiers, authors, and other illustrious ancestors. There were no black sheep in Aunt Nina's family tree. A few unfortunates, perhaps, easily forgiven and forgotten, but the emphasis was definitely on achievements. By the way, Aunt Nina was the first woman I ever knew who drove her own car.
Going to church was also a family habit, and a way of life. No one ever asked who was going to church or who was staying home. If you were able to be up for breakfast, you were expected to be dressed and ready to leave for church by the time Aunt Nina asked, "Who wants to ride in the front seat?" The last time I saw her, she and my father and I went to a strange church, in a strange town, and Aunt Nina obviously enjoyed the new experience.
All her children are grown, no, and married. All her grandchildren are naturally, handsome, intelligent and talented. She also told me at our last meeting, that she could tell from their snapshots that my children came up to the Prescott standards in looks, intelligence an even talents.
There is no one to take her place. No one else who believes in all of us, cares about all of us as she did. If I get past St. Peter, pardon me, I should say when I get past St. Peter at heaven's gate I shall confidently expect to see Aunt Nina bustling toward me, full of questions about the family members left behind on earth, and full of news and good tidings about those that have preceded me to their eternal rest.

from interview with daughter, Joyce, 1988
We always had ice cream and chicken during the summer after church on Sunday. We always went to church. My mother always had a hired girl to help her. We never lacked for anything growing up. Nina's father worked at a grocery store.
Nina always wanted to be a writer but never had a chance to go to college. She was close to her sister, Elsie and named her own daughter Elsie Jean, after her. After her brother, Herbert Prescott, stopped working (he never married), Nina took him into their house. Homer didn't get along with him because he wasn't a farmer and didn't know how to do things on a farm. This caused a few problems.