As time passes memories, like old photographs, slowly fade away until the details become hard to make out. Unless preserved they eventually fade away altogether. What you are about to read is a true story but like an old photograph many of it's details have been lost. What we have left are what has remained in the 130 years that it has been verbally passed down from generation to generation. Efforts and research are underway to learn more about the following events but I will share with you what I know. This was told to me (Ron/Lee) by my Aunts Reba, Judy, Tommia and their sister, my mother, Pat. They had heard this story from their mother Opal Luttrell, who heard it from her mother Luna Hill and grandfather Timothy Hill, both of whom had heard it from Opal's great-grandmother Dula Hill.

The 1860's were a difficult time in our nation's history. It was the time when our country had sadly fought against itself in the "war between the states" or as it is now more commonly known, the Civil War. It was a time when brother fought against brother and cousin fought against cousin. It was a time when thousands of young men fought and lost their lives to defend the rights and sovereignty of their state, preserve their nation's union, or to seek the end of slavery. In 1865 the war officially ended with a Northern victory but some say it's last shot was fired when President Abraham Lincoln was assassinated by a Confederate sympathizer at Fords Theater.

In some ways the shots sometimes continued like an old man's dying cough even as the nation tried to begin healing itself. This was true in Tennessee, a former Confederate state, that in truth had been torn with many of it's citizens having fought on both sides of the conflict. Most people wanted to get on with their lives but the reconstruction years of Tennessee continued to bring bloodshed as the Ku Klux Klan formed and began it's "war" against the black people, Republicans, and those that sympathized or supported either (click HERE to read more about this topic).

It was in this setting, in Union County Tennessee, that Annanias Hill and his wife Dula tried to make-ends-meet and feed their two twin infants Timothy and Harold Hill. Annanias often brought food to the table by hunting the nearby land. It was on one such hunting trip, in the year of 1867, that Annanias Hill's life came to an end.

The 3 year old little girl in the left of this 1923 photograph is Opal (Gipson) Luttrell. Standing behind Opal is her mother Luna. The man is Opal's grandfather Timothy Hill and the woman in the chair is Opal's Great-Grandmother Dula Hill.

His wife Dula did not worry at first when Annanias did not return but as the day passed and then another her worry had set in. Finally she gathered up the young boys, both of which were only 1 year old, and began to search the countryside for her husband for it was unlike him to remain away for so long. Her search came to an end when she found his dead body face down in a nearby spring.

Annanias Hill was a man who was outspoken and known for his political beliefs. Beliefs and words not too appreciated by the men of the Night Riders; also known as the Ku Klux Klan. While Annanias was out hunting he and the Night Riders met. No one knows now what words were exchanged or the details of this fateful meeting. All anyone now knows is the outcome. The Riders put a noose around the neck of Annanias, hung him up in a tree, and watched him die. When his body was finally lifeless they cut him down and left his body face down in the spring by which he died.

It was nearly two days later when Dula and the twin boys finally found her husband; their father. Needless to say Dula was heartbroken and found life difficult to manage after the death of her beloved Annanias. The sadness and the resulting economic hardship caused by his death made it too difficult for Dula to raise both of the twins. It was with reluctance that Dula had to make the choice of sending one of the twins, Harold, to live with relatives (the Weavers) in Illinois. Dula and Timothy never saw Harold again. Despite attempts to reunite, or at least learn of what had become of Harold's life in Illinois, this was not be.

Dula lived for many more years and her son Timothy became a man well loved and thought of by family and friends. When Dula was in her twilight years of life her granddaughter Luna Hill and great-granddaughter Opal came to live with her so they could help take care of her as her health began to fail. Opal and Luna's stay with Dula was short because sadly Dula's health deteriorated quickly and Dula soon passed away.

As Opal grew so grew a strong friendship with her grandfather Timothy who she later said "in many ways he saved my life". It was through Timothy's telling of this story to Opal and by her mother that this sad event of 130 years ago is known and being read by you now.