Esther Mae Brigman Ferguson

Posted February 17, 2020

Esther Mae Brigman Ferguson

May 16, 1909 – February 17, 1995

My mother was largely responsible for my becoming an archaeologist.  When I was a child, she encouraged my roaming the woods and fields by paying attention to all the things I brought back—from arrowheads to dead crows. In response to my trophies, she would reminisce about her childhood on the farm—of playing with her sisters, raising calves, picking cotton (she hated it), and, like me, finding arrowheads.  We often visited as she worked, and as I watched I learned cooking, ironing, sewing, and gardening.  Sometimes mother would talk about her faith, in both God and people, as I ran on about Boy Scouts, books, movies, and my adventure of the day.  She loved being one of the neighborhood mothers to my childhood friends, and she relished the role of “Aunt Esther,” generously spreading love and hugs to many nieces and nephews, real and fictive. Finally, at the age of 81 she became a joyful grandmother, and again at 85.  I can see her loving beauty in most every positive aspect my life.