those ever interesting sells

8/6/2019 Those Ever Interesting Sells

http://slidepdf.com/reader/full/those-ever-interesting-sells 1/3

Notes from Ann Sell Slagle about her father, John A. Sell, and her grandfather, Henry Sell. Written at

the request of Margaret Sell Fosse (Feb. 2, 1981).

“My father was born during the Civil War. There was a southern encampment of soldiers under

Kirkpatrick on my grandfather’s farm, west of the Plum Creek. They took over his farm and the JohnKeller farm on the Westminster Rd. They adjoined. Well, they helped themselves to all the farm

products.

There was an officer by the name of Sell in the Southern army. The night my father was born he took up

a collection for him.

They were there until July. One evening they had killed cattle, had steaks sizzling on the grills. The

“brass” were inside eating at grandpap’s table. Suddenly they got orders to proceed to Gettysburg. They

left the steaks burning, hiked to Gettysburg and there were involved in the battle that occurred. The

above is true.

Now for Grandpap. He was a stern man, seldom laughed. He had only one daughter, Emma. She wanted

a piano or an organ so badly and being his only daughter, you would have thought he’d have bought it.

No! he said “The cows were her only organ,” milking them.

She married well, David Frey, and died when she had her first child; the child died also. She was then

only 21.

This little anecdote happened when I was in 8th grade, High St. School. Mr. Frey, a school director,

came to inspect. Our teacher, John T. Nace, called on one after another to recite Sheridan’s Ride. None

got through it. He called me, he had a purpose in mind. I strutted up, rattled it off, reciting. Memory

work was my forte. Mr. Nace said to Mr. Frey: That’s Johnnie’s daughter. I hadn’t the slightest idea he

was my uncle. (You needn’t put that in. I got carried away.)

Grandpap wasn’t only close. On some things he was downright stingy. Poor Lucinda, his second wife,

my father’s step-mother. He wouldn’t let her sweep outside, she’d wear the brooms out. They raised

broom corn, had plenty of them. Every morning he’d go to town to bank the dairy money, so “Cinda” as

we called her, would grab the broom and sweep the walks, porches and lane.

1



He had a little oak desk where he kept his money and accounts. After his death at his sale, bidding was

lively on the desk. His closeness was common knowledge and one remarked, “he wanted it because he

was sure he’d find some money in it.” He did, one dime. This is true.

My father was not a man to go away. He stuck close to home. My mother took us to church, picnics,everywhere. Now we were all going some place. All were cleaned and ready. I had my only clean dress

on. Had a little broom, dipped in the rain barrel and was scrubbing the porch, fell in the rain barrel, and

no clean dress to go. They put a soiled one on me and my Dad took me to Grandpap’s to stay until they

got back. You know I can recall so much, yet for the life of me can’t recall where we were going. How I

wish I could. Am psychic but just can’t get that. (We caught rain water in wooden barrels. It was soft,

our well water was very hard. This was the custom.)

I think the disappointment did it, for I sat on the porch all day and didn’t utter one word or eat. When my

Dad came for me, Grandpap was furious. “Take this damn kid home. She has no tongue, can’t talk.”

Some grandfathers would have held me, made it all O.K. Not him. I never knew him to love or cuddle

any.

He did like Gene, he’d give him a quarter, us a dime.

Now remind me next time you write and I will tell you about the baker wagon and Gene. Things come to

me at different times.

Continued – From Ann Sell Slagle

Those Ever Interesting Sells

I understand that my father’s mother died in a mental institution. I can understand her breaking down if

she lived with grandpap.

Lucinda Kale kept house for him. Later he married her, she was pregnant, but the child must have died

or she lost it.

Anyway I suppose those five Sell boys must have been full of it. They were sent to bed and then they

would open a window, slide down a tree and beat it.

2



One time I asked my father about my grandmother. I said, “would she have liked us and given us

things?” He said “She would have been very good to you.” I can’t remember him ever saying anything

more about her.

Grandpap never gave us a gift, neither did Lucinda but she was always nice to us, would give us cookies

when we’d go over. He’d say, “Cinda feed these kids and send them home.” He’d give us each a dime

and Gene a quarter.

My mother told me one time that they wanted Uncle Lewis’s wife to help care for my grandmother. She

would not, and her last child born was an idiot, Willy Sell. He lived until his teens, then died. Of course,

there were those who said it was retribution. Grandmother was dead many years when my mother

married my Dad.

Grandpap, Uncle George, Uncle Amos, Dad, all lived there near the Plum Creek. Uncle Lewis and Uncle

Jake lived in on Frederick Street.

Uncle George came home one night, had been drinking a lot, fell of the front porch. It was cold, he

contracted pneumonia and died. Drink was their downfall. They all drank.

Back of grandpap’s main house was the summer house. His was unusual. You had to go up step to get in

it and it sat up high above the ground. We loved Cinda’s dinners eaten, also made there. They cooked,ate, lived there in summer, only slept in the other house. Cinda would make dried corn, mashed potatoes,

beans, peas, tomatoes, meat, everything you could think of. She really worked like a slave, as did my

mother when she was under grandpap’s thumb.

This story brings out some of the nitty gritty but one can’t escape. Life with and for the Sells was never

easy. Hope the above doesn’t bother you. I have long since learned to live with who I am. You know

tho’ it’s the first time I’ve put failings on paper. Always defend my clan to outsiders, as we should.

3

those ever interesting sells

Documents