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Show \,\G1!CL ~ ~S ~tr~or~~ Sara goes on to tell of her life in Centerville. "We lived in the little log cabi n for over a year. Duri ng that time, T. I-Ihitaker spent every spare moment of his time building a large one-room house on the property, up in the lot. I didn't like the thought of living way up there, but he would not budge from his decision and went right on building. He promised to have it done so that we could move in before our second child was born. He did, and I had to live up there four long years. Your mother, Elizabeth Emily, my first girl was born there. We called her Emmy. She was a lovely child, with sky blue eyes and light brown hair, gentle, refined, industrious from the first. Sister Duncan was my nurse for her, and for John, who came next and for all my children up until she retired from nursing. Will was almost five years old, and Sam was past two. True to his word, T. U. was always good to little Will. If both boys needed shoes at the same time, and there was only enough money for one pair, Will got the shoes. And he always left all the punishing of the children to me. He was the most tenderhearted man I have ever seen. Never did I hear him use foul language. "We have such a beautiful, expressive language when properl) used," he'd say, "it seems a shame to waste and abuse it by using degrading expressions to express ourselves." He set a fine example for his family and never asked anyone to do anything for him that he could do for himself. The children loved, respected, and looked up to him always. He was overjoyed at the arrival of little Emmy -- said she was the most beautiful baby ever born. She came 24 of August 1861. It was agreed that we name her Elizabeth for me (his wish) and Emily for Aunt Emily Hill Mills (Uncle Uilliam's divorced wife) Woodmansee. Aunt Emily had divorced Uncle when he remained so long in England and she married Joseph Woodmansee by whom she had a large family. Did I ever tell you that Aunt Emily had one child by Uncle, whom she named Avelene. She grew up and married and had two children, a boy and a girl. Well, I was surely glad to have a girl after two boys and we were truly a happy pioneer family. Emmy was as sweet and good as she was beautiful. Her father said her eyes matched the blue bells we had growing in our gar- den. Her hair was quite dark when first she came, oh, such a lot of it, but it got lighter and stayed that way. T. W. said she looked like me, but she didn't. If anything, she favored him. It was when I was pregnant with John, our next child, that T. W. decided that we needed more room. So he gathered rocks, great piles of t~em and hired a stone mason to come and lay up the walls for it. They got the four walls up, frames all .up and in place for the roof. That night a terrible wind came from the east. That's the worst kind of wind storm, especially in these parts. It came up very suddenly, out of the blue, with thunder and lightning, very close -- worst I ever saw -- most frightening storm I have witnessed. I ran out to get the children who were playing outside in the sand just as the lightning struck the new part of the house. The wind lifted the newly finished roof and carried it westward, almost to the exact spot where I wanted the house to be built. The new rock walls were razed to the ground by the lightning. Only the adobe room stood unharmed and safe. I rushed back into the house and there stood Brother Whitaker, white as milk, speechless. "You are a religious man," I said. "You believe in signs don't you?" He nodded. "Well", I said, "you know I never wanted to have a house away up here. Now it is destroyed through no fault of mine. Perhaps you'll bui ld it where I want it next time." Well, he did and that house still stands, though now it has been remodeled somewhat and added to. I think it was built to stand through the Millenium for it was built of rock from the foothills. It was laid up by the Duncan Brothers, best rock and brick masons in these parts -- same family as Sister Duncan, who was a doctor and midwife and delivered some of my children. John was born in the fall of 1863, 16 October. I was alone with the children, Will, Sam, and Emmy. When the pains started I sent Will, only five years old, up through the field to the Duncan home with a note to Sister Duncan to come soon as she could. There was no one else to send. He was a dependable little fellow. She had been expecting to hear from me, and came back with him. T. W. al ways saw that I had a half pi nt of brandy for when I had my babies, as I told you Sister Duncan would make a hot sling for the patient. She'd make a hot piece of toast, put butter on it and pour the hot liquid of diluted brandy and honey over it and give it to her patient after she had 235 . 234 |
