Person:Sarah Hall (27)

Charles and Sarah lived on a farm in Missouri. The young couple moved to Moody, Texas in the fall of 1878. There they leased land and were successful cotton farmers and cattle raisers. Sarah bore six children, but she had difficulty carrying them which resulted in dropped organs and invalidism. After the birth of Lonnie, the doctor advised no more children. In those days, no attempt was made to repair the damage by surgery and Sarah was in bed most of the time until her later years when nature (God) must have healed her. They had negro mammies, but much of the responsibility fell on the only daughter, Nettie. Sarah ate heartily and Nettie never murmured at the pot carrying. Sarah was a strong-minded wife and mother. She ruled the family from her bed and kept the four big boys in a close knit family group even after they were married. Her illness must have made her somewhat morbid. She wanted to be buried in Missouri and insisted the family leave Texas in 1902. The oldest boy, Ovie, was twenty by this time and the others also getting grown, but all the family made the move back. They never again regained the prosperity they had attained as Texas ranchers. They brought their church letter from "The United Brethren" church. When they left Texas, they left their church letter in a trunk. ( Judi Fluter Davies has the letter.) Sarah was a jealous wife who wanted her husband near her. He gave in to her in many things, but insisted on starting his own shoe repair shop in Springfield, Mo. which he kept until he was 80. Sarah was full of the folklore of her day and quoted it on every appropriate occasion. One couldn't move on a Saturday - "Saturday's flight, not long to light." A record should have been kept of her sayings. She was a neat sewer. She and Nettie designed and made her mother-hubbard type long dresses and spent much time in piecing quilts. Each son was made a lone star quilt which was a pieced red star on a white background. She was a fond grandmother and loved to babysit the babies for her daughters-in-law. As the grandchildren grew older, they knew there was a treat of some kind in one of the boxes under her bed when they went to see her. She was of her time and culture. She never touched liquor in any form, but dipped snuff. A certain kind of tree stick was worked until there was a brush at one end. This "brush" was dipped into the snuff and put in the mouth. There was no secret made of this and no family censure. She was a woman with high principles and let her grown sons know it if she thought they were out of line. She was the hub of the whole family and knowledgeable about all their activities. Even the grandchildren went to see her regularly. The summer before she died in February was the first break-up of the close-knit family. Economic conditions and Union strikes caused her sons to go to other cities for steady employment. Her oldest son, Ovie, moved his family to the oil fields in Kansas. Her health seemed about as usual and the grandchildren did not realize it was really good-bye to her. (Written by granddaughter, Gladys Claypool)