April 18, 2020
Stories of her youth from Anna Lee Stull, Gayle Robey’s Mom.
My mother, Anna Lee Stull, lives nearby in an assisted living complex and since they have a No Visitor restriction, imposed on March 12, I speak with her by phone at least 2 times everyday. We have certainly enjoyed the “Stories of our Youth” entries which have been sent over the last few weeks. After I read them, I have been reading them to her. She has enjoyed hearing all of them.
In December, I interviewed & videotaped Mother, after our Sunday church service, to learn about her childhood recollections of how her maternal grandparents celebrated Christmas. She actually could not remember what the specifics were of those holidays but she did tell me a couple of stories and granted me permission to share them with you.
Stories of our Youth – Anna Lee Stull, descendant of Henry Jackson
My older sister, Elsie (McClung) and I were brought up by our maternal grandparents on a farm on WV St. Rt. 47 (Staunton Pike) about 20 miles from Parkersburg, WV. Our winters were very long, starting in October and ending in April, with snow on the ground most of the time. We loved to go sledding down a hill near our house. The hill ended near the door of our big barn. We would stay outside until our feet were frozen and painful, and go inside crying because of the cold. After our time inside getting warm, we were ready to go outside again and enjoy sledding down the big hill many times until the cold penetrated our clothing and another warming session became necessary.
Another memory of my youth was the building of Staunton Pike, through my grandparents’ property, by “trusted” prisoners who were closely supervised by prison guards. They were housed in temporary barracks near the road. All of the prisoners wore a cuff around an ankle with an attached ball and chain to prevent their escape from the work detail. One of the prisoners was the “water man” and he came to my grandparents’ well to get water, always having a conversation with my grandfather, William Hull. One day the “water man” admitted to my grandfather that he was “in” because he had murdered someone. Each group of men were assigned to breaking up rock to form the base of the hard road and had to complete a measured area each day. My sister and I were never afraid of the men we saw working on the road. They were always hard working and polite.
Thanks for sharing the many submitted Stories of our Youth.
Submitted by Gayle Robey