Mary Francis Medley1
F, #3878, b. 1878, d. 1940
Mary Francis Medley was born in 1878.1 She married John George Hibbeler, son of William Henry Hibbeler and Sophia (?).1 Mary Francis Medley died in 1940.1
Family: John George Hibbeler b. c 1870, d. 17 Apr 1961
- William H Hibbeler+2 b. 9 Feb 1904, d. 17 Apr 1991
- George Alfred Hibbeler1 b. 9 Jul 1906, d. 26 Nov 1994
- Francis Pearl Hibbeler3 b. 4 Sep 1907, d. 3 Apr 1985
- Sophie Marian Hibbeler4 b. 26 Mar 1910, d. 25 Jan 1984
- James Edker Hibbeler5 b. 30 Sep 1912, d. 23 Jan 1995
- John Harrison Hibbeler6 b. 28 May 1918, d. 27 Dec 2005
- Fred C Hibbeler7 b. 27 Aug 1921, d. 25 Dec 2012
Citations
- [S34] Find A Grave, online findagrave.com, Memorial ID 42328517. Hereinafter cited as Find A Grave.
- [S34] Find A Grave, online findagrave.com, Memorial ID 130031007.
- [S34] Find A Grave, online findagrave.com, Memorial ID 188124576.
- [S34] Find A Grave, online findagrave.com, Memorial ID 119724884.
- [S34] Find A Grave, online findagrave.com, Memorial ID 53097278.
- [S34] Find A Grave, online findagrave.com, Memorial ID 155794492.
- [S34] Find A Grave, online findagrave.com, Memorial ID 132345340.
George Alfred Hibbeler1
M, #3879, b. 9 July 1906, d. 26 November 1994
| Father | John George Hibbeler1 b. c 1870, d. 17 Apr 1961 |
| Mother | Mary Francis Medley1 b. 1878, d. 1940 |
George Alfred Hibbeler was born on 9 July 1906.1 He married Gladys Orene Robbins (?)2 George Alfred Hibbeler died on 26 November 1994 in Cameron, Milam, Texas, USA, at age 88.1 He was buried at the Lexington Cemetery in Lexington, Lee, Texas, USA.1
Family: Gladys Orene Robbins (?) b. 7 Sep 1912, d. 27 Mar 1995
Gladys Orene Robbins (?)1
F, #3880, b. 7 September 1912, d. 27 March 1995
Gladys Orene Robbins (?) was born on 7 September 1912.1 She married George Alfred Hibbeler, son of John George Hibbeler and Mary Francis Medley.1 Gladys Orene Robbins (?) died on 27 March 1995 in Cameron, Milam, Texas, USA, at age 82.1 She was buried at the Lexington Cemetery in Lexington, Lee, Texas, USA.1
Family: George Alfred Hibbeler b. 9 Jul 1906, d. 26 Nov 1994
Citations
- [S34] Find A Grave, online findagrave.com, Memorial ID 42328557. Hereinafter cited as Find A Grave.
William H Hibbeler1
M, #3881, b. 9 February 1904, d. 17 April 1991
| Father | John George Hibbeler1 b. c 1870, d. 17 Apr 1961 |
| Mother | Mary Francis Medley1 b. 1878, d. 1940 |
William H Hibbeler was born on 9 February 1904.1 He married Ruby Emma Schwartz, daughter of John William Schwartz and Alvina Wilamina Seelke.2 William H Hibbeler died on 17 April 1991 at age 87.1 He was buried at the South Park Cemetery in Pearland, Brazoria, Texas, USA.1
Family: Ruby Emma Schwartz b. 20 Jun 1915, d. 6 Nov 1978
- Alvina F Hibbeler3 b. 2 Dec 1935, d. 14 Jan 2013
Ruby Emma Schwartz1
F, #3882, b. 20 June 1915, d. 6 November 1978
| Father | John William Schwartz2 b. 22 Nov 1886, d. 6 Oct 1964 |
| Mother | Alvina Wilamina Seelke3 b. 6 Nov 1886, d. 26 Feb 1963 |
Ruby Emma Schwartz was born on 20 June 1915 in Rockdale, Milam, Texas, USA.1 She married William H Hibbeler, son of John George Hibbeler and Mary Francis Medley.1 Ruby Emma Schwartz died on 6 November 1978 in Houston, Harris, Texas, USA, at age 63.1 She was buried at the South Park Cemetery in Pearland, Brazoria, Texas, USA.1
Family: William H Hibbeler b. 9 Feb 1904, d. 17 Apr 1991
- Alvina F Hibbeler4 b. 2 Dec 1935, d. 14 Jan 2013
Citations
Francis Pearl Hibbeler1
F, #3883, b. 4 September 1907, d. 3 April 1985
| Father | John George Hibbeler1 b. c 1870, d. 17 Apr 1961 |
| Mother | Mary Francis Medley1 b. 1878, d. 1940 |
Francis Pearl Hibbeler was born on 4 September 1907 in Lee, Texas, USA.1 She died on 3 April 1985 in Lee, Texas, USA, at age 77.1 She was buried at the Giddings City Cemetery in Giddings, Lee, Texas, USA.1
Citations
- [S34] Find A Grave, online findagrave.com, Memorial ID 188124576. Hereinafter cited as Find A Grave.
Sophie Marian Hibbeler1
F, #3884, b. 26 March 1910, d. 25 January 1984
| Father | John George Hibbeler1 b. c 1870, d. 17 Apr 1961 |
| Mother | Mary Francis Medley1 b. 1878, d. 1940 |
Citations
- [S34] Find A Grave, online findagrave.com, Memorial ID 119724884. Hereinafter cited as Find A Grave.
James Edker Hibbeler1
M, #3885, b. 30 September 1912, d. 23 January 1995
| Father | John George Hibbeler1 b. c 1870, d. 17 Apr 1961 |
| Mother | Mary Francis Medley1 b. 1878, d. 1940 |
James Edker Hibbeler was born on 30 September 1912.1 He died on 23 January 1995 at age 82.1 He was buried at the Temple Mount Zion Garden of Memories in Temple, Bell, Texas, USA.1
Citations
- [S34] Find A Grave, online findagrave.com, Memorial ID 53097278. Hereinafter cited as Find A Grave.
John Harrison Hibbeler1
M, #3886, b. 28 May 1918, d. 27 December 2005
| Father | John George Hibbeler1 b. c 1870, d. 17 Apr 1961 |
| Mother | Mary Francis Medley1 b. 1878, d. 1940 |
John Harrison Hibbeler was born on 28 May 1918 in Lexington, Lee, Texas, USA.1 He died on 27 December 2005 in Conroe, Montgomery, Texas, USA, at age 87.1 He was buried at the Forest Park Lawndale Cemetery in Houston, Harris, Texas, USA.1
Family 1: Rosie Oleta (?)
Family 2: Eunice Sharp
Citations
- [S34] Find A Grave, online findagrave.com, Memorial ID 155794492. Hereinafter cited as Find A Grave.
Rosie Oleta (?)1
F, #3887
Family: John Harrison Hibbeler b. 28 May 1918, d. 27 Dec 2005
Citations
- [S34] Find A Grave, online findagrave.com, Memorial ID 155794492. Hereinafter cited as Find A Grave.
Eunice Sharp1
F, #3888
Family: John Harrison Hibbeler b. 28 May 1918, d. 27 Dec 2005
Citations
- [S34] Find A Grave, online findagrave.com, Memorial ID 155794492. Hereinafter cited as Find A Grave.
Fred C Hibbeler1
M, #3889, b. 27 August 1921, d. 25 December 2012
| Father | John George Hibbeler1 b. c 1870, d. 17 Apr 1961 |
| Mother | Mary Francis Medley1 b. 1878, d. 1940 |
Fred C Hibbeler was born on 27 August 1921 in Texas, USA.1 He died on 25 December 2012 at age 91.1 He was buried at the Restlawn Memorial Gardens in West Salem, Polk, Oregon, USA.1
Citations
- [S34] Find A Grave, online findagrave.com, Memorial ID 132345340. Hereinafter cited as Find A Grave.
Lemuel Alexander Donnell1
M, #3895, b. 28 November 1879, d. 29 October 1968
| Father | Alfred Pierce Donnell1 b. 20 Sep 1850, d. 12 Apr 1942 |
| Mother | Elizabeth Frances Langford1 b. 8 Mar 1854, d. 26 Dec 1937 |
Lemuel Alexander Donnell was known by his family and friends as Pop.
In September 1891, Lemuel Alexander Donnell moved to Silvertonfrom Seymour with his parents, brothers and sisters. From LAD's recollections in the Canyon News:
"During the summer of 1891, the Donnells made a prospecting trip to the plains. That summer had had lots of rain and was a beautiful country. The lakes were full of water and grass was half knee-high. Pa came home with his mind made up to move. In September we arrived in Silverton." Donnell remembers.
"Dad had at that time one wagon, one hack, five just common work stock, two colts, cows and calves. Coming by way of Matador, we pulled up the Caprock east of old Della Plains."
When the Donnell family arrived in Silverton, "Dad ate his lunch, and said he was going into town, then just one store. The town was already plotted out, however. Returning to the wagon, he said, 'I've got us a place."
"The property was located 3-4 miles northwest of where we were camped then." ...
"When we arrived at the property, we found a dugout, 10x12, two stacks of hay, and new wire fence."
"We put everything we could in the dugout, using it for a kitchen, dining room and parlor."
"The wagon was bedroom number one, while the hack, with 1x12 boards added to it, made bedroom number two for the boys."
"We wintered just fine, but I remembered there were a few nights when it would be stormy, very dark and snowing, with the wind from the north. We would hold to each other's hands to keep from getting separated going from the dugout to the hay stack," Donnell says.
"We had to have food, fuel, and some kind of social activity. To get a sack of flour, we had to go to Amarillo, a six-day trip. We would leave Monday morning and get back Saturday after noon."4
LAD wrote a memoir, at the urging of his son Overton, in about 1966 that was typed by Marie Donnell in about 1984. Early in the memoir, he reflected on his family:"Dad had at that time one wagon, one hack, five just common work stock, two colts, cows and calves. Coming by way of Matador, we pulled up the Caprock east of old Della Plains."
When the Donnell family arrived in Silverton, "Dad ate his lunch, and said he was going into town, then just one store. The town was already plotted out, however. Returning to the wagon, he said, 'I've got us a place."
"The property was located 3-4 miles northwest of where we were camped then." ...
"When we arrived at the property, we found a dugout, 10x12, two stacks of hay, and new wire fence."
"We put everything we could in the dugout, using it for a kitchen, dining room and parlor."
"The wagon was bedroom number one, while the hack, with 1x12 boards added to it, made bedroom number two for the boys."
"We wintered just fine, but I remembered there were a few nights when it would be stormy, very dark and snowing, with the wind from the north. We would hold to each other's hands to keep from getting separated going from the dugout to the hay stack," Donnell says.
"We had to have food, fuel, and some kind of social activity. To get a sack of flour, we had to go to Amarillo, a six-day trip. We would leave Monday morning and get back Saturday after noon."4
"I was the middle child. The oldest boy was the smart one. Sam, the second, was average, and I was the nut. My father and older brother never looked at me, but that I could sense their thoughts. All the time I was in his [Pa's] home, I did everything he asked me to do. I would do lots of things I thought he wanted done, but I never got any credit for it. I never got his respect. I was always treated as an inferior something. If you treat one as dirt, he becomes dirt."
That comment provides context for some of the other incidents he writes about. Pop recalled:
"I went to school until I was eighteen. Grammar, history, and all other studies did not mean much to me, but arithmetic and algebra were my hobbies. The last year in school we went through Ray's Algebra-Arithmetic. Mr. D. C. Lowe was our teacher. We had a very interesting class. After we finished Ray's, he had us get a new book—Sutton and Kimbrow's Practical Arithmetic. We worked every problem in it.
At the close of this session, Mr. Lowe took a cashier position in a new bank and invited me to come with him and learn the banking business. I stayed about five months. Then when I was twenty, I went to Draughn's Banking Business College at Fort Worth and stayed four months and finished. There I got all the education I wanted—all I needed. ...
My older brother Charles and I never could do one thing without getting into a jam in some way. He was so much more intelligent than I was that he would just tell me and I could do the work.
It was a cold morning with a little snow. Pa wanted to use his wagon, so he sent us out to grease it. I got the wrench. He (Chas.) got the bucket of grease. I took off the nut. He had a big paddle of grease in his hand. He says, "Take it off," meaning the wheel. I was small and couldn't budge it, but I tried. He wore a big boot that he used to kick me in the seat of the pants with. Then he yelled again, "Take it off!" I was doing my best, but it was not enough. He gave me a nasty look and pulled that paddle of grease across my face, starting with my mouth, across my cheek, and filling my ear full. I stepped back, falling backward over the wagon tongue into a snowbank. We were not very far from the house, so Pa heard the commotion and came to the door. He said, "What is the matter?" My brother says, "Lem is having one of his mad spells". I went to Pa with my face. I thought Pa would whip him, but he did not. He thought it was funny." ...
It was in the spring of '92 that Pa sent us boys down [into the Tule Canyon] to get a load of wood. It turned out to be a wet afternoon. We got our wood—what we thought we could pull out—and started up the climb. This hill was red clay, and the rain had made the roadbed slick.
We started up the hill with Charles riding on the wagon, Sam at one wheel with a rock, and I at the other with another rock. We started, went a few feet, and he stopped. We jammed our rocks behind the wheels. We made it alright until we were nearly out. He called on his team. Old Fan would not pull. That was about two hours until dark. We were hanging on the side of this mountain, depending on these rocks to hold the load we had.
Charles went to crying. He would cry a while, then he would try to make the team pull. He would go and rub her nose and talk and plead with her to pull us out of this mess. She would not. We had to stay with the outfit. Darkness began to settle around. We did not know what we would do. All at once she raised her head and began to nicker. Chas grabbed the lines, and out we went. I always figured she realized that it was feeding time and that she had better get home.
It took ten loads of wood a year to do the family, so we had to watch the woodpile and not let it get too low. One winter, in making our trips to the canyon, there always were panther tracks. The whole winter they were there. We never did see one as we were always there during daylight."5
The brothers Lemuel (3895) and Sam (32) grew up working side by side in the cattle business, doing the same jobs and sharing the same daily life. They slept in the same bed, ate at the same table, broke colts in turn, and handled ranch work together so closely that people often did not distinguish between them by name. Lem considered Sam a steady, sensible, and well-liked man, a slightly better rider, but noted that Sam never boasted or tried to claim superiority, and that they always worked in complete harmony.At the close of this session, Mr. Lowe took a cashier position in a new bank and invited me to come with him and learn the banking business. I stayed about five months. Then when I was twenty, I went to Draughn's Banking Business College at Fort Worth and stayed four months and finished. There I got all the education I wanted—all I needed. ...
My older brother Charles and I never could do one thing without getting into a jam in some way. He was so much more intelligent than I was that he would just tell me and I could do the work.
It was a cold morning with a little snow. Pa wanted to use his wagon, so he sent us out to grease it. I got the wrench. He (Chas.) got the bucket of grease. I took off the nut. He had a big paddle of grease in his hand. He says, "Take it off," meaning the wheel. I was small and couldn't budge it, but I tried. He wore a big boot that he used to kick me in the seat of the pants with. Then he yelled again, "Take it off!" I was doing my best, but it was not enough. He gave me a nasty look and pulled that paddle of grease across my face, starting with my mouth, across my cheek, and filling my ear full. I stepped back, falling backward over the wagon tongue into a snowbank. We were not very far from the house, so Pa heard the commotion and came to the door. He said, "What is the matter?" My brother says, "Lem is having one of his mad spells". I went to Pa with my face. I thought Pa would whip him, but he did not. He thought it was funny." ...
It was in the spring of '92 that Pa sent us boys down [into the Tule Canyon] to get a load of wood. It turned out to be a wet afternoon. We got our wood—what we thought we could pull out—and started up the climb. This hill was red clay, and the rain had made the roadbed slick.
We started up the hill with Charles riding on the wagon, Sam at one wheel with a rock, and I at the other with another rock. We started, went a few feet, and he stopped. We jammed our rocks behind the wheels. We made it alright until we were nearly out. He called on his team. Old Fan would not pull. That was about two hours until dark. We were hanging on the side of this mountain, depending on these rocks to hold the load we had.
Charles went to crying. He would cry a while, then he would try to make the team pull. He would go and rub her nose and talk and plead with her to pull us out of this mess. She would not. We had to stay with the outfit. Darkness began to settle around. We did not know what we would do. All at once she raised her head and began to nicker. Chas grabbed the lines, and out we went. I always figured she realized that it was feeding time and that she had better get home.
It took ten loads of wood a year to do the family, so we had to watch the woodpile and not let it get too low. One winter, in making our trips to the canyon, there always were panther tracks. The whole winter they were there. We never did see one as we were always there during daylight."5
Starting from a small family bunch of cattle and limited means, they gradually expanded by taking on leased grass and improving newly acquired land in Swisher County with corrals, a one-room house, and windmills, then moving most of the cattle there. They built up both cattle and horse herds-sorting colts into cow horses, roping horses, or work horses-and, through steady labor and saving, helped bring the family holdings to seven sections of land, about forty head of horses and mules, and roughly four hundred head of cattle.5
From LAD's memoir, paraphrased:
In early July, during a spell of dead calm when there was no wind to power the mill, Sam and I worked late into the night to repair it so the wind pump would draw water again. While we were fixing the mill around eleven o’clock, Sam accidentally stepped on a nail. By the next morning, his foot was badly infected [with tetanus], and he could no longer ride, so I hitched up the buggy and took him home to mother. Sam never returned to work. About a week later, while I was away delivering 120 steers to a buyer fifty miles off, word came that Sam’s condition had worsened. After riding nearly a full day and night to get back, I arrived just as he was slipping away. Sam suffered several convulsions, then told his mother he had seen Jesus and was going “up higher.” Soon after, he died.
The funeral was held the next afternoon—plain but dignified, a typical cowboy burial. A hearse drawn by four white horses led the procession, with two mounted cowboys riding on each side. When it ended, I returned alone to their camp twelve miles away. Inside the house, I found Sam’s coat, hat, and a nearly new pair of boots waiting where he had left them. Sam had owned a section of land and about a hundred head of cattle but had never married, so his estate went to our father. I received nothing except the memory of their years of work and companionship.5
After Sam’s death in 1906, LAD entered into partnership with his brother Charles in an effort to retain the family’s cattle and land holdings. LAD took charge of managing the outfit while Charles supplied funds and paid the hired help. Within a year, however, the family’s property began to fragment. Their father deeded land to the daughters, and through a series of ill-advised transactions by the husbands—one involving a lumber company and another bartering for calves—LAD lost control of both one owned and one leased section. By early 1909, discouraged by his father’s interference with hired hands, LAD decided to liquidate the cattle operation. The funeral was held the next afternoon—plain but dignified, a typical cowboy burial. A hearse drawn by four white horses led the procession, with two mounted cowboys riding on each side. When it ended, I returned alone to their camp twelve miles away. Inside the house, I found Sam’s coat, hat, and a nearly new pair of boots waiting where he had left them. Sam had owned a section of land and about a hundred head of cattle but had never married, so his estate went to our father. I received nothing except the memory of their years of work and companionship.5
"In the summer of 1907, we had kept our yearling steers, and I got money and bought until I had 141 two-year-old steers. These were a good lot of cattle and, in the spring of 1908, I sold these cattle to two men at McLean, Texas, and I was to deliver them a distance of about 130 miles. The cattle were in the east edge of Swisher County, and they had to go six miles north of McLean.
We had the two men that bought the cattle, a fourteen-year-old boy, and myself. We drove cattle down by Silverton, then into the Red River breaks, where we had to cross Red River, then on by the way of Clarendon.
In crossing the river, I got my horse in a bad mess of quicksand. I was riding a good horse-a sorrel with stocking legs and a blaze face-a powerful horse. I called him Simon. He had to make three or four lunges to get through. I came out with my boots full. I did nothing about it and rode until noon. I stepped off on the ground.
My feet were packed with dry sand. The moisture had evaporated. No chance to get my feet out, so they poured my boots full of water. They then would lift me up by my feet and let the water run out, and after a few treatments like that, I was able to get my boots off."
We had the two men that bought the cattle, a fourteen-year-old boy, and myself. We drove cattle down by Silverton, then into the Red River breaks, where we had to cross Red River, then on by the way of Clarendon.
In crossing the river, I got my horse in a bad mess of quicksand. I was riding a good horse-a sorrel with stocking legs and a blaze face-a powerful horse. I called him Simon. He had to make three or four lunges to get through. I came out with my boots full. I did nothing about it and rode until noon. I stepped off on the ground.
My feet were packed with dry sand. The moisture had evaporated. No chance to get my feet out, so they poured my boots full of water. They then would lift me up by my feet and let the water run out, and after a few treatments like that, I was able to get my boots off."
By September 1909, he had sold off the herd but still held title to his section in Swisher County. That year, he purchased eighty acres from a tract adjoining the town of Silverton and acquired $750 in bank stock, marking his shift toward town investments. The Swisher County land was improved and rented out as of January 1910, ending his full-time residence at the ranch. Meanwhile, his father built a new home in Silverton, and L.A.D. constructed a barn and planted trees on his nearby eighty-acre property. By late 1909, he was living in Silverton with his parents.
"So now I am thirty years old. I have never married. I had had a few love affairs but nothing serious. Half a dozen of the homegirls had proposed to me, but I never did take them serious. So in the beginning of 1910, I owned one section of land in Swisher County, eighty acres near Silverton, my bank stock, and my town property in Silverton, Texas. I was Sunday School Superintendent and sang bass in a quartet, and had a job as bookkeeper in the bank. So far so good."5
He and Henrietta Marion Knipp arrived in December 1924 in Canyon, Randall, Texas, USA,on a cold and snowy day from Silverton in an open cab Ford truck.
My recollections:
Mother and Pop Donnell were hard working ranchers. I think I spent a few weeks every summer at their place west of Canyon. Then there were nearly daily excursions into town for shopping or to go to a Saturday movie matinee. The movie theater was the only air conditioning unless we stopped to visit Aunt Kate. Trips to town always had the benefit of a soda pop or ice cream cone. And there was the occasional drive-in movie.
Not much to do for a kid, except to accompany Pop on his daily trip to count cows. The fun part of that was the challenge of jumping out of a rolling car to run ahead and open the barbwire gate, then jumping back in on the other side. He counted his cows every trip just to be sure none were missing.
Pop was pretty quiet but loved his Friday night "wrassling" on TV. He, being a real cowboy, was a very good harmonica player. And told stories about places he never wanted to go again: getting cattle out of the quicksand or escaping a flash flood in a canyon.
Mother Donnell was very involved with the Presbyterian Church. She had an upright piano that we kids would bang on but it only got played if Aunt Kate came over.
Not much to do for a kid, except to accompany Pop on his daily trip to count cows. The fun part of that was the challenge of jumping out of a rolling car to run ahead and open the barbwire gate, then jumping back in on the other side. He counted his cows every trip just to be sure none were missing.
Pop was pretty quiet but loved his Friday night "wrassling" on TV. He, being a real cowboy, was a very good harmonica player. And told stories about places he never wanted to go again: getting cattle out of the quicksand or escaping a flash flood in a canyon.
Mother Donnell was very involved with the Presbyterian Church. She had an upright piano that we kids would bang on but it only got played if Aunt Kate came over.
Family: Henrietta Marion Knipp b. 17 Dec 1888, d. 31 Mar 1965
- Keith Louise Donnell+ b. 20 Sep 1912, d. 3 Jul 1980
- Alton Parker Donnell+ b. 29 May 1916, d. 25 Feb 1991
- Lawrence Overton Donnell+ b. 29 Sep 1918, d. 11 Feb 1986
- Kate Eileen Donnell+ b. 17 Apr 1920, d. 20 Jan 2008
Citations
- [S34] Find A Grave, online findagrave.com, Memorial ID 60730400. Hereinafter cited as Find A Grave.
- [S1] Charles E Donnell, A Genealogy of Donnell, Langford and Other Families (Plainview. TX: Self, 1949), p. 27. Hereinafter cited as Donnell-Langford.
- [S335] Swisher County Historical Commission, Windmilling - Swischer County Texas - 1876-1977 (Dallas, Texas: Taylor Publishing Company, 1978), p. 249. Hereinafter cited as Windmilling.
- [S294] Promise of Rich Country Brings Pioneer to Plains, The Canyon News, Canyon, Texas, 20 May 1965, 14. Hereinafter cited as The Canyon News.
- [S358] Lemuel Alexander Donnell, Unpublished Memoir of Lemuel Alexander Donnell, typed from notes by Marie Donnell, c 1984, (13117 Manitoba Drive NE, Albuquerque, Bernalillo, New Mexico, USA). Hereinafter cited as Memoir of Lemuel Alexander Donnell.
- [S165] Lemuel Alexander Donnell family, The Canyon News Centennial Edition, Canyon, Texas, 29 June 1989, IV-1. Hereinafter cited as The Canyon News Centennial Edition.
Henrietta Marion Knipp
F, #3896, b. 17 December 1888, d. 31 March 1965
| Father | Heinrich Knipp b. 17 Sep 1842, d. 28 Oct 1904 |
| Mother | Katherine Hibbeler b. 1 Sep 1866, d. 16 Dec 1937 |
In 1908, Henrietta Marion Knipp moved to Silverton, Briscoe, Texas, USA. From Keith's article:
"She came to Silverton to teach school about the time that Daddy came back to work there. She had taught in schools closer to her home but was lured to the Plains by her sister, Kathryn Knipp, who taught near the Vigo community. I believe they came by rail to Estelline, but I know they rode the stagecoach from that point to Silverton. My father found the young woman he wanted for a wife when he met Henrietta. ...My mother thought she was marrying a banker, but the love of the land was in my father’s blood. When I was in my third year, they moved back to Daddy's improved section in Swisher County."1
She was the President of the Parent Teacher Association, the West Side Home Demonstration Club and the Canyon Women's Book Club. She was very active in the Presbyterian church, serving in the choir and teaching Sunday School.
She had a stroke 1 November 1956 at the age of 67. From Keith's article:
"Tragedy came to our family when Mother suffered a major stroke in November 1956. She lay paralyzed and speechless for more than 8 years. During that sad time we saw in Mother a courage and strength which sustained us all. Her mind remained alert, she was always cheerful; and though we shed many tears together and separately, she was an inspiration to all who came in contact with her.
Mother's illness took a terrible toll on Daddy who was 9 years her senior. Those were such sad and lonely years for him."1
In 1929, Henrietta Marion Knipp and Lemuel Alexander Donnell moved the family to their property 3.5 miles west of Canyon.Mother's illness took a terrible toll on Daddy who was 9 years her senior. Those were such sad and lonely years for him."1
Family: Lemuel Alexander Donnell b. 28 Nov 1879, d. 29 Oct 1968
- Keith Louise Donnell+ b. 20 Sep 1912, d. 3 Jul 1980
- Alton Parker Donnell+ b. 29 May 1916, d. 25 Feb 1991
- Lawrence Overton Donnell+ b. 29 Sep 1918, d. 11 Feb 1986
- Kate Eileen Donnell+ b. 17 Apr 1920, d. 20 Jan 2008
Citations
- [S335] Swisher County Historical Commission, Windmilling - Swischer County Texas - 1876-1977 (Dallas, Texas: Taylor Publishing Company, 1978), p. 249. Hereinafter cited as Windmilling.
- [S291] Services Conducted for Mrs. L. A. Donnell, The Canyon News, Canyon, Texas, 8 April 1965, 10. Hereinafter cited as The Canyon News.