| Text | [written by Lucile Hitt Hollingsworth around 1972]
Reuben Martin Hitt was born April 16, 1849 when his father, Reuben, was 68 years old and his mother, Nancy, was 27 years old. Old Reuben died when Martin was a small boy just 6 years old. But his mother was young and strong and kept the family to gether and managed to raise them with the help from good neighbors and from her stepchildren. Lazarus, Reuben's oldest son, was 21 years older than his stepmother Nancy, and died just a few years later. But James, the other son, lived on to 1889.
On 24 December 1872, Martin married 17-year-old Mary Emma Hughes. During the next twenty years, they had eight children. Mary Emma's mother, Elizabeth Gary Hughes, lived with them. Her husband, Joel Hughes, had been killed in the Battle of Shiloh during the Civil War.
Martin Hitt was a planter and a teacher. He build a school house and conducted classes for all the children in the community. By the time his oldest son, Joel Reuben, was twelve years old, he was helping by teaching the younger children and hearing the classes of the others when Martin had to go to the fields.
In 1897, Reuben Martin decided to take his family to Texas. He had heard that they had fine schools and churches there and the opportunities were great. However, when winter came, they found the cold almost unbearable. The children were sick all winter, and during the second winter, grandmother Hughes (Elizabeth Gary Hughes) died. That was the final straw! Martin packed up and came back to Mississippi. Soon after returning to Mississippi, Martin's wife, Mary Emma, became ill and died on 3 February 1901. At this time none of Martin's children were married although several were grown. His youngest was only nine years old at the time.
Martin Hitt was the only grandparent I (Lucile Hitt Hollingsworth, daughter of Joel Reuben Hitt) really knew -- the others having died before I was born or so soon thereafter that I didn't remember them. I remember Grandpa well. He was a tall, slender, small-boned man with twinkling blue eyes. He was very erect even when an old man, and had a peculiar gait -- a loose-kneed way of walking with the legs swung from the hips and the knees swinging outward slightly while the body seemed to glide along on wheels. This gait was so pronounced in my father and my four brothers that when any one of them approached, it was impossible to tell which one it was until he came close enough for you to see the features of his face. I never lived near enough to spend much time with Grandpa, seeing him only on visits, family reunions, etc., but I was always so happy to be at his house. He always had a bunch of little children around him and could entertain them for hours (his grandchildren). Also, he had a wonderful orchard and grape arbor. And always he had a tobacco patch. No one else could grow tobacco there. I guess Grandpa had a green thumb. He could put up with anything from the children but just don't bother his tobacco patch. He rolled the tobacco into cigars and smoked it in his pipe.
When he died, those of his grandsons who bore his body to the grave were very proud.
I found an old letter in my father's papers from a man Grandpa had taught in Webster County. There's no envelope. Perhaps Mr. Golden attended Grandpa's funeral and handed the pages to my father.
Dear Joel, Here are some verses in memory of your sainted father. Glad I saw you today. You are a great man. I thank God for your life of usefulness. Webster County has produced some great men. You are one of them. May God bless you and those you love.
Your old boyhood friend,
William M. Golden
In loving memory of my dear old teacher Prof. R. M. Hitt by William M. Golden
My dear old teacher is at rest, From sorrow he is free; He's gone on home to be with God, Throughout Eternity.
He lived a life above reproach, His heart was true and kind; He left this earth of sin and woe, A better home to find.
He taught me in my childhood days, Always to be a man; He taught me not to say ``I can't,'' But always say ``I can.''
And I accepted what he said, A long long time ago; He taught me that The Son of God, Would make me white as snow.
And I thank God for his dear life, For all that he taught me; And praise the Lord we'll meet again When I put out to sea.
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