A Cherished New Year's Eve Centenarian

A few years ago I located my mother's only living cousin on her father's side. We immediately forged a friendship since we shared the same profession and a compelling interest in the Smith family history. Even though I have never gotten to meet her in person, Elizabeth Purcell Hammer has impacted my life with her historical accounts and indomitable spirit. She will celebrate her 101st birthday on December 31.

My Oldest Living Relative and the Missing Portrait

            Around ten years ago, I discovered a relative that I had heard about but had never met. At the time, I was trying to find a member of my maternal grandfather’s family because of a portrait. Gladys Vivian Rainey Smith had married my grandfather, Calvin Callcayah Smith after his father’s death, but she always told me a portrait of him hung in the Smith home in Hickory Grove, Oklahoma. I didn’t locate the portrait of Walter Smith, however, my search led me to Elizabeth Purcell Hammer. How she has enriched my life!

Elizabeth Purcell Hammer, my mother's only living
 cousin on her father's side. This photograph was
 taken when Elizabeth was 90 years old. She is
 such a lovely lady.

            Elizabeth is my oldest living relative. She was born to my grandfather’s older sister, Rachel and her husband, Arthur Purcell on December 31, 1913. Like my mother, she is one-quarter Cherokee. Elizabeth is one of the three Purcell girls. Ferrall and Fern were her sisters. Elizabeth attended school at the historically significant -at least to the Smith family - Hickory Grove School in Delaware County. My grandfather and his siblings attended school there. Grandpa’s parents and other relatives are buried in the Hickory Grove Cemetery in close proximity to the school. (For more information about the Smith family’s influence in the Hickory Grove Cemetery see the final photograph in the blog posting entitled Typhoid! that posted on October 19, 2014.)

The Hickory Grove School 

            Elizabeth grew up on a farm that raised hogs, cattle, and chickens. Those days were hard, battling the drought, the Dust Bowl, along with couple of years of infestation by armyworms and grasshoppers. The adversity of her formative years built the tenacity and determination that has served Elizabeth well over these many years.

            She graduated from Chouteau High School and then began her study at Northeastern State College. When she had completed approximately two years of collegiate study, Elizabeth began teaching at her first school. She taught 60 students ranging from first through eighth grades. Her entry salary was $60/month. She later earned her degree from NSU with postgraduate hours from OSU.

            Elizabeth also served as an elementary principal at numerous locations in eastern Oklahoma. She retired in 1977, after teaching science and math to junior high students for 15 years in Claremore with innumerable accolades coupled with the admiration and respect of a myriad of students from all over the eastern half of the state.

            She was married to the love of her life, Ellsworth Hammer, for over 60 years until his death in 2000. Since her father and husband were in the agriculture business, she advised me in her 2013 Christmas card, “Please don’t try to be a full-fledge farmer. It’ll take up too much time and energy.” Truer words were never spoken.

            Elizabeth served in various capacities in civic, educational, community, and service organizations in Pryor, her home of almost 80 years, as well as Mayse County. Her larger-than-life persona pervades the area so that her son told her upon her 100^th birthday that perhaps she should relinquish the keys to her car since everyone in Pryor knew her age!

            Back to my initial search for the portrait of Walter Smith, the grandfather of my mother and Elizabeth. In my research, I had been able to find letters in which Great-grandpa Walter had written names in Cherokee, but I never located the much sought after portrait of this full-blood Cherokee great-grandfather of mine. Yet I discovered Elizabeth, the only living relative that was alive before his death in 1923. The recollections she shared with me have afforded a clearer understanding of him than the lost portrait would have.

            Elizabeth and her family lived with her grandparents for a time after their home burned. She recalls the evenings filled with stringed music provided by my grandpa and his brothers. Her grandparents encouraged Elizabeth and her sisters to dance to the lively tunes as they were played.

            Even though Great-grandpa Walter’s first language was Cherokee, Elizabeth related that he rarely spoke Cherokee in his home. My great-grandmother, Julia Steeley Smith, did not speak Cherokee. Out of respect for her, Elizabeth said, he refrained from speaking Cherokee.

            Elizabeth vividly remembers the time Isaac returned from World War I after witnessing his friend’s brutal death in the trenches of France. He was suffering from what we now know is Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Isaac incessantly retold the vivid eyewitness account of the horrific battlefield death of his friend. His parents, my great-grandparents, consulted the doctor who was treating him and were advised to allow their traumatized son to verbalize the terror of his war experience. Elizabeth said no one ever interrupted him but patiently allowed him almost hourly to retell his World War I account. After a period of time, the compulsion to relate what he saw and experienced in Europe diminished. They heard the story less and less. Isaac Smith recovered, married, had a family, and worked in the mines of Northeastern Oklahoma, thanks to the unwavering fortitude modeled by Walter and Julia Smith, his parents, to the family to support and ensure his healing.

              In one of our recent phone conversations, I commented to Elizabeth that my grandma said the portrait of her father-in-law, Walter Smith, revealed a strong, nice-looking man. Elizabeth replied, “Actually, he looked most like your grandpa.”

              She also said he liked to dress handsomely. I was beginning to get a sense of the kind of man he was. He looked like Grandpa. (To see a photo of my grandfather, Calvin Callcayah Smith, see the blog posting of March 9, 2014, entitled The Legacy.) He took pride in his appearance. My great-grandfather, Walter Smith was patient, loved music, as well as loved and respected his wife. Thanks to Elizabeth, I am getting an understanding of who Walter Smith was and what he was like.

             In one of our last telephone conversations, I told her about a family photo that I had found in my grandma’s album. Elizabeth did not have a copy of it. I told her within the month I would get a copy sent to her. This dear relative who had written pages of family history for me and had visited with me about a great-grandfather I had never seen, said to me, “Now don’t you be concerned about getting that to me. You have enough to do already caring for your father.” Her compassionate comments filled with sensitivity serve as an encouragement when weariness creeps into my being.

             Since Grandma told me about the portrait of Walter Smith, my mission to lay my eyes on it drove me in search of as many Smith relatives as I could possibly locate. Being unable to find the portrait has been a blessing since it led me to contact Elizabeth, the treasure trove of Smith family history - an accomplished relative with a loving, caring heart. What a family jewel!

Happy Birthday, Elizabeth!