Sadie and cousins

      November,1907, was  the time of the bank panic, and when White and Parrick dissolved  their partnership, Edgar C. took  over and developed the real estate, loans, and insurance business.   He maintained this office for two years and then built his own across and up the street. In 1994 the building was still there and was used as a private home. White and Parrick’s office later became the pool hall.
        He proved up on his claim in Dec.1907, and  filed on an additional 80 acres in the same township and proved it up in January 1910.  The legal descriptions of his two homesteads were: E1/2NW1/4-30-1N-31 and W1/2NW1/4-33-1N-31.
       His sister,  Sadie B. Hall, was born on Jan. 10, 1882 in Chicago Ill.  Educated in the public schools of Chicago, Jewell, Iowa and Humboldt, Iowa and was a graduate of the Western Ave. High school, Chicago, Ill.  She studied shorthand and worked as a stenographer.  She resigned and went to San Antonio, Texas, in September 1905, to take care of her mother.
          After her mother’s death in Dec.1905, she went to Vivian, South Dakota and filed on a 120-acre claim in 1906. It was west of Vivian three miles on the north side of the railroad track.  She proved up in 1907 and filed on an additional  40 acres, about a mile from her brother’s second claim, and proved up on it in 1909.  She got her start teaching in a new schoolhouse about a mile north of her claim. She continued to teach school in Lyman County for several years.

     E. C.  remained in business until Aug. 1917, when he closed his office and enlisted in the Second Civilian Military Training Camp, Fort Snelling, Minnesota. In December 1917, he was commissioned a Second Lieutenant in the Aviation Branch, Signal Corps U.S. Army Reserve.  He was assigned to Kelly Field No 2, San Antonio, Texas for further training and assignment.  This was the beginning of the present U.S. Air force. 
     In March 1918, he was transferred to Camp Morrison, Virginia, an embarkation camp, where he held various assignments until receiving command of Replacement Detachment No 2, which was billed for overseas duty until the Armistice stopped the shipment of troops overseas.  He discharged the detachment in December 1918, and was himself discharged on January 4, 1919. He returned to Vivian and reopened his office and engaged in the real estate, loan and insurance business until Jan. 1, 1925.  Due to hard times and lack of business he found other employment as a rural mail carrier on Route No. 1,  Vivian, South Dakota. 
      He was retired because of age on March 1, 1950.

  11-John F.  Hall, is the son of Edgar Chamberlain Montgomery Hall and was born at Chamberlain South Dakota April 7, 1924.  
     My earliest memory is when I was about one and a half years old.  It was in the summer or fall, and I was very sick.  The bedroom was very hot. I was lying on my side in my crib and looking over at the windows.  I could see the sun beating on the pulled curtain shades.  They glowed a yellowish orange, and I wished I would feel better.  My temperature was very high.   It was at this time that my teeth were little buds way down in the gums.  The high fever damaged the tips of my permanent teeth.  When my permanent teeth grew in, the tips were pitted and yellow.  According to my dentist this can happen when there is a high fever over a long period of time.
           My next remembrance is being next to the ceiling looking down at a little baby in diapers lying in a crib.  I don’t know how long I stayed there, but I do remember being back in my crib and being cooler.
          So I know we have a spirit that is part of our being and when our body dies we continue to live.  My dad sang only one song, unless he was in church, and that was, “ Some day the silver cord will break.”  I have heard that when the cord breaks you can’t return to your body.  That evening Dr Newman from Presho was called, and I was taken to the front room and laid on the ironing board for his examination.  I can still remember the lamp was very bright in my eyes.
          My mother must have been pregnant at the time, as my sister, Beatrice Elizabeth was born November 18, 1925 at the sanitarium in Mitchell, South Dakota. 
          My memory of her is very limited, but I know I loved her very much, and she also loved me.  I have pictures of her, Bud, and me on the front steps of the house, and one with the three of us in a wagon pulled by a goat.  A roving photographer that came to our house took the goat picture.
          I remember clearly the sad time when she became sick.  It was in April. Dad was in the field where they were sowing wheat.   I was in the kitchen with mother and Beatrice. She was standing in the middle of the kitchen, and  I was trying to play with her by bumping into her with a pillow.  She fell down and began to cry. My mother said not to do that because Beatrice wasn’t feeling well.  She put her on the bed.  I crawled up on the bed and tried to console her. I wished that I could make her well. 
         Later my mother was excited and worried. She sent me to the top of the hill, back of the house, to see if I could see Dad coming home. She needed him.
        My next memory is looking out the front window of the dinning room as they drove away to the Sanitarium in Mitchell.  It was about a hundred miles and must have taken three or four hours.   We had a girl staying with us who worked for her room and board while going to school.   I don’t know how long they were gone, but I was excited to see them come back.  My mother came into the kitchen and sat down.  I went up and leaned against her leg, asked where Beatrice was.  She said, “She died.”   I didn’t know what that meant, so she said, “That’s like sleeping,” and I asked, “Will she wake up?” and my Mother said, “No.”   
        At the age of three I knew I would never see my sister again, and went outside.    My parents didn’t cry or grieve in front of me.  I wish they had because I could have cried too.   I never properly grieved for the loss of my sister.   I know my Mother and Dad had sadness in their hearts the rest of their lives, and so do I.   I wish that we could have grown up together.  Even though I have but a few memories of her, I love her very much.