Freestone County, Texas
Obituaries


[This is Laura Mahala (Dunbar) Hill b 7 Sep 1854 d 14 Jul 1933]


The Fairfield Recorder
Thursday, July 20, 1933 edition

by Mrs. George Stubbs

  Mrs. F. E. Hill, age 78 years, died at her home in Fairfield Friday morning at
2:30 o'clock after a long illness.  Burial took place Saturday morning at the
Fairfield Cemetery.  Mrs. Hill is survived by her husband, one son, F. E. Hill,
Jr., and three grandsons, Frederick, Richard, and Suel.
  Mrs. Hill was one of the pioneer citizens of this section.  Before her marriage
she was Miss Laura Dunbar, and was born in Washington County, Ala., in 1854, 
coming to Texas in 1858.  She attended the old Fairfield Female College, and 
taught school for a number of years.  She was married fifty-three years ago to
F. E. Hill, and one son was born to this union.  She became a Christian when
quite young, and was a loyal member of the faith.
  The funeral ceremonies were simple and dignified as benefited the passing of
so splendid a character.  A "Mother of Israel" they called her that day, as the
casket rested under the trees in the old cemetery, and a great crowd of friends
and relatives gathered to do her homage.  The service opened with hymn and a 
prayer said by the Rev. J. N. Vicent. "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want
.... He leadeth the through the valley of the shadow of Death...." read the Rev.
H. L. McKissack. There was a prayer by the Rev. J. F. Stanley, pastor of Mrs.
Hill's church at Fairfield, and the Rev. Edgar Parker of the East Dallas Baptist
church, and a friend of Mrs. Hill's for many years, read simply: "And I heard a 
voice from Heaven saying unto me, write, blessed are the dead which die in the 
Lord henceforth; yea, sayeth the Spirit, that they may rest from their labors;
and their works do follow them."
  Even as the Scripture so was the service, one marked not by the triumph and
desolation of tears, but rather the beauty of a life well spent, the sweetness
of its closing, the victory and strength of days well lived.
  "I have lost a friend," said the speaker simply - and many throughout the 
gathered people echoed the statement silently in their hearts.  Miss Laura had
lived in Fairfield for many years. She was a member of the old regime, had lived
in the old days when strength and optimism and faith and character were 
requirements of those who survived. She had traveled out of Alabama in a wagon
caravan with those far-seeing souls of yesterday who were building homes in a 
new land.  She had seen the passing of the slaves, the coming of a new era, and
she had worked long and faithfully, toiling at the spinning wheel as her mother
had toiled, singing as the youth of another day sang and worked. Not long ago 
she said to one at her bedside:
  "I can never help thinking of how different things are now-especially with 
youth. We had so little, and yet so much. We worked hard, and were so happy. We
wore homespun clothes and felt wonderfully dressed. Life was so simple, so 
splendid, so worth the living."
  One of the memories that lost its color for Miss Laura was the tragic experience
she knew as a child, when the pitiful drama of the Ricks children was played in
that little space of land east of Fairfield. Most of the old citizens know of
how the four-year old twins, half brother and sister of Mrs. Tom Gilpin of 
Turlington, wandered forth that bright February morning in 1868; of how they 
became lost, of how the entire citizenship of the countryside united in a great
hunt that was baffled by the sudden Texas norther that paralyzed the work, and
of how several days later when the snow was melting, the small children were 
found dead, lying by an old log, their shoes and stocking carefully removed and
placed at their sides. Miss Laura was a visitor in the home when the tragedy
took place, and she never forgot the tragedy-and all the heart-breaking details
of that weary, hopeless search.
  Many other things she remembered, and talked about to her friends as life was
closing. She understood fully that day was ending for her, and she approached
the close calmly, serenely, satisfied.  That day those who looked upon her, saw 
a picture as exquisite as a pastel painting, done in delicate colors of gray and
lavender and faint rose shades.  A picture of peace and calmness and dignity 
that memory does not easily erase.
  Fairfield and Freestone county have lost a friend, a citizen of the type so 
sorely needed in this hour.  There is left the memory of one who lived wisely,
of one who lived well.