Adventures At The Hatfield Cemetery Logan County West VA

A few years ago, I made a trip to West Virginia to visit some of the cemeteries where my family are buried. With death certificates in hand, and a map to show me the way, I took two of my boys along for the adventure.
It was 4th of July weekend and the weather was warm and sticky. We wound our way down highway 44 south of Logan, past Omar and Stirrat, to Sarah Ann, where we found a little sign by the road that said "Hatfield Museum" if memory serves me. A few tombstones were in the yard by a trailer and old car. We pulled over, and a man and woman came out and asked if they could help us. Turns out, the man was the caretaker for the Hatfield Cemetery, which was just a short piece on down the road beyond us. He started up his car and we followed him to the turnout for the cemetery, which rose up the ridge on our right. I gave him the name we were looking for, Henry Simpson (my grandfather), and he said he had never seen a grave for anyone of that name but to go ahead and take a look, and to take a stick with us in case we ran across any snakes!
The boys and I picked our way up the hill and looked at as many headstones as we could, but to our disappointment, nothing could be found for Henry. My Dad always told me that Henry was buried very near to Devil Anse Hatfield, whose grave is marked with a tall statue memorial. We were sad not to find any sign of my grandfather.
After coming home I asked my Mom if she had any idea why there wouldn't be a grave marker, and she said her father had died while visiting her and her husband there, and there was no money to buy a grave marker. The Hatfield Cemetery was the closest place to lay him to rest.
In recounting the story to her brother, my Uncle Don Simpson offered to pay for a headstone for Henry, which was cut and prepared for installation. However, the caretakers couldn't find any place in the cemetery that might be Henry's final resting place. No foot marker or other indication seems to exist anymore. I'm not sure where in the cemetery they installed the headstone as I haven't made a trip back there yet. But that is for a future cemetery tale.

Here is another visitor's memory of their experience at the Hatfield Cemetery:
/Roadside America - Sarah Ann WV

Hibbert Hobbs - Joining Up For World War II

From my history of my Dad's life:
"World War II was on its way, and West Virginia sent its share of young men to Europe to fight against Hitler. Hibbert, Herbert, and Herman became eligible for the draft. When they drew their numbers, Herbert's was #32 and Hibbert's was over #800. Neither one of the twins wanted to be separated from the other, so they volunteered rather than have Herbert go in alone. They were inducted on May 10, 1941.

More From The Life and Times Of Hibbert Hobbs

Another excerpt from the history about my Dad and his family!

"Ethel had her hands full trying to care for twin babies in a crowded coal camp. They lived in a company built duplex, sharing a common porch and central walls with a colored family next door. Laundry was done on a metal washboard. The gritty coal dust form the colliery, or processing plant, coated everything in the area each day. Monroe would have come home black from head to toe, needing his clothes cleaned and a hot bath in the big metal washtub each evening. Ethel's wood floors had to be scrubbed by hand with lye soap. Water was available at the well and the family's only bathroom was a privy in the yard.
Imagine Ethel's predicament when another new baby was added to the family on February 11, 1921. Reginald Herman Hobbs was born at home just as the twins had been less than a year and a half earlier. She remembers having to wash a huge washtub full of dirty diapers every day for her three young sons. Photos from that time show her as very thin and work worn with such a heavy load."

The Life and Times Of Hibbert Hobbs

My newly graduated college son has been helping us clean out our basement this month, and I was happy to run across a copy of a personal history I wrote about my Dad, Hibbert Hobbs, for a genealogy college class I took some years ago. It was typed into a computer we no longer own, and embarrassingly I have to admit that I don't have a backup copy anywhere online. It's time to remedy that.
So here is an excerpt from THE LIFE AND TIMES OF HIBBERT HOBBS

Two For The Price Of One

The year was 1919. The coal industry in West Virginia was young and healthy. Storng and heavy set, MOnroe HObbs the miner proudly awaited the birth of his first child. His wife Ethel was only 17 years old. They had been married 8 months when, on September 13th, the time for the birth came suddenly ahead of schedule. "It's a boy the country doctor might have said, and then - it's another boy!"
HIbbert was born first, then Herbert. Tiny and frail though they were, both twins survived. Together they weighed but seven pounds at birth. Both had the same flaming red hair as their mother, the same bright blue eyes. They were "as alike as two peas in a pod." as Hibbert liked to say. It was a miracle that they made it, and an indication of the stamina they would show later in life.
Being the first born of identical twins meant a lot to my father. Throughout his life he fulfilled his role as eldest son. He gave advice and took charge in times of crisis. His name was unusual. According to Ethel, she let Monroe's mother Victoria McCoy Hobbs name the twins. She named them Hibbard and Herbert. For some reason Dad's name was recorded wrong on the birth certificate, and Hibbert he became.

Monroe Hobbs

Monroe Hobbs was my grandfather. He worked for West Virginia Coal & Coke Corp. in Omar, West Virginia. He worked as a tippleman and later as an assistant foreman. He was b. 1900 and d. 1957 and was married twice, first to my Grandmother Ethel (Emma Jean) Sansom and second to Mae Hall. My Dad, Hibbert, was from the first marriage along with his twin brother Herbert and a younger brother, Herman.
Here is photo of Monroe by an old car:

Corn Bread And Beans

When I was growing up, every couple of months or so my mother would make a big pot of pinto beans along with a skillet of delicious crusty cornbread served with butter. Occasionally we would have collard greens or mustard greens on the side.
You see, in Depression times in West Virginia where my parents grew up, pinto beans were a staple part of their diet. Most families put a big pot of beans on to soak, then cook, every single day except Sunday. On Sunday my Mom said they had a chicken if they were lucky. She remembers eating fried bologna and gravy for breakfast, and apparently lots of oatmeal (which she hated for the rest of her life and refused to eat again.) But the beans and corn bread were family traditions we enjoyed even though we didn't "have" to eat them anymore.
I love a good bowl of pinto beans and cornbread myself! Here is the recipe:
Sort through a 2 lb. bag of pinto beans to remove any small rocks or bad beans. Wash beans, then put in large pot, with water to cover. Soak overnight, adding additional water if necessary. In the morning, drain off old water and replace with fresh. Bring beans to a boil and boil hard for 10 minutes, then turn heat down to simmer. Add 1 large onion, 1 carrot and 1 good meaty ham hock. Simmer beans on low heat until tender. This will take several hours. Remove carrot and discard. Season to taste with salt and pepper, and serve in a bowl with a few raw white onion slices on top.

Victoria McCoy Hobbs

My Great Grandmother was Victoria McCoy Hobbs, b. 1867 KY or VA, d. 1935 WV. She was related to the famous McCoy family known best for the Hatfield-McCoy feuding in WV and KY, and actually saw some of the feud killings take place when she was a girl.
Here is the only photo I have of Victoria; she is pictured with daughter in law Ethel Sansom Hobbs (my grandmother), and grandsons Hibbert, Herbert and Herman Hobbs.