Ruth Hill Smith Cross,
born February 21, 1904, died Sunday, April 14, 1996, in her home in
Pittsburgh, California. Ruth was born in Belington, West Virginia, where
she lived along with her grandparents, Benton Hill and Cynthia Jane
Markley Hill, her Uncle and Aunt, John Poling and Selma Hill Poling, her
mother, Ivy Grace Hill, and many family members. She was married first
to Late C. Smith on April 16, 1922, and later, in her golden years, to
Franklin Ernst Cross.
Her second marriage to Frank,
is as charming a love story as one might find. As Ruth told me this
story, she smiled as though the thought was so pleasurable I thought she
might burst. Apparently, the two grew up together, attending the same
schools, living in the same neighborhood, knowing the same people, and
liking each other well, though they were never romantically involved.
Not that they had not thought about it. It just never happened. Each
went on to marry other people, raise their families, and say farewell to
their spouses. It wasn't until Frank was home visiting and happened to
catch a glimpse of Ruth on the street. He called out to stop her and she
thought he must have been a raving lunatic. "Who would stop an 80 year
old woman on the street", Ruth chuckled as she remembered the incident.
Needless to say, they had a lot of catching up to do. Frank fessed up
that he would have married her sixty years ago but he didn't think she'd
be interested. Now, being a wizened old man, he wasn't going to take any
chances on her `getting away' a second time and he proposed.
Ruth and Frank were married in California where they resided until
Frank's death. During the few short years they were together their lives
were filled with every happiness. It was well deserved.
I had a chance to visit Ruth last month and she would tell me the
wonderful times she and Frank had. She said before she died, she would
really like to visit Carmel-by-the-Sea again. She told me of the trip
she and Frank had taken there during their time together. She said to
me, "Oh Debbie, the sand is sooo white there, it's just beautiful.". She
was right.
We traveled down California's coast, stopping to take in the scenery
along the way. We had lunch at The Anchorage Inn, on Highway One overlooking the ocean at our feet.
Continuing on, we took the 17-mile scenic drive just above Carmel and at
last made it to the sandy white beaches of Carmel.
During our trip, I was reminded my childhood when we used to visit Ruth's
farm in West Virginia. I thought of it as my own place in Heaven,
reserved especially for me until I dropped by again. Once, Ruth let me
choose one of every creature on her farm to have as pets. I think I
liked my goose the best. I remember running out in the meadow, gathering
up eggs, that I now know to have been Breakfast. Oh, and those wonderful
Sunday Breakfasts ...
The day was filled with such
reminiscing. At day's end we dined at Patisserie Boissiere, a French cafe in
Carmel. Everything had been perfect. The day was a success. We really
had a wonderful time. I had truly wanted to do something special for
this woman. Instead, she had done something truly wonderful for me -- I
have memories to last a lifetime.
Ruth, you will surely be missed. God Bless.
