Frances Steele Kimbrough – Lundeen Family Tree

Born: Scooba, Mississippi 1903

Died: Selma, Alabama 1994

“Where is the heart that does not keep within its innermost core. Some fond memories hidden deep of days that are no more.”

“I was born Frances Steele Kimbrough on January 12, 1903, near the small town of Scooba, Kemper county, Mississippi. My parents, George Henry Kimbrough and Mary(Minnie) Howard Jackson Kimbrough lived near the lovely old home where my grandmother, Mary Louisa Carter Jackson, died January 24 1897. My great grandfather, Mathew Jackson, built the house in the early 1830’s and he and his wife, Jane Aiken Jackson, lived and reared their family there, He died there in 1853 and his wife in 1855. My grandparents lived there and reared their family. Mathew Jackson was among the first settlers to come into that section, which was at that time Indian territory. He received a deed to the land in the early 1840’s signed by Martin Van Buren who was then President of the United States.

About the same time that Mathew Jackson came to Mississippi, Clarke Carter and his wife, Sarah, came in and settled on land that joined the Jackson land on the East and North. They too built a large colonial home in the typical architectural style. These people homesteaded the land and built small homes to live in while they were building their large beautiful antebellum homes. Both reared large families. My great grandfather, Mathew Jackson, was the first to cross the Choctaw Purchase and settle in what is now Kemper County, Mississippi. That part was then all Indian Territory. On October 29, 1851, Albert Emmett Jackson and Mary Louisa Carter were married. They had six girls and two boys. My mother was next to the youngest.

The town of Scooba came into being in this section as people gradually moved in. Soon there were churches, schools, stores, etc. Mama and her sisters and brothers attended school and the families attended the Union Church. The Jacksons were Methodist, the Carters were Baptist. They were hard-shelled Baptists, and I was told that foot washings were held in their home. Grandpa Jackson was a Deacon in the church, taught Sunday School, and was active in community affairs

In 1855 the Mobile & Ohio Railroad was put through about two and one half miles to the west. Everything gradually moved to the railroad, the families remained. They went in wagons to see the first train. The occasion was celebrated with a big barbeque at which Jefferson Davis was the principal speaker. The town now is Scooba and the one left behind is Old Scooba. The cemeteries are about all that remain. Most of Mama’s family is buried in the two cemeteries and the Turner Cemetery across the road on the south side. Many died young with typhoid fever. The tombstones were large and beautiful. Vandals struck and knocked them down, others were taken away. It gives me a feeling of sadness to go there and walk through the briars and broken markers. The stones were more beautiful than those used today.

Scooba grew to be a flourishing little town with many lovely homes, churches, businesses, schools and later a Junior College, some of which remain today.

Memories linger of attending school, church, the good friends and my own family. Grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins- all of whom are gone now….

When my parents first married they lived in a small house near the big house where Grandma Jackson and her son, Uncle John Jackson, lived. Louise, my sister, was born there Nov. 5, 1901 and I was born there Jan. 12, 1903. Mama had married Walter Jackson (no relation) on Nov. 28, 1891. They had two boys, Walter Herbert, born 1894 and Alvin Emmett, born 1896.

Mama’s husband died in 1897 and little Alvin died of blood poison in 1899…Walter Jackson left Mama some money, several hundred acres of land, horses, buggy, and a home near Binnsville. This was a town about the size of Scooba at that time, and was the home of Fairview College, a school for boys. After Mama’s husband died, she worked as matron of the boy’s dormitory until she married my father. The Kimbrough’s home was located on a large plantation about halfway between where Grandma Jackson lived and Binnsville. I well remember the large, beautiful one and one-half story white home which sat off of the road in a wooded area with large magnolia trees and lots of lovely flowers that framed it. On weekends as Mama would travel with her two little boys in her buggy to visit her parents near Scooba, she would pass the Kimbrough home. She met Papa somewhere along the way and they were married on Nov. 1, 1900. I have heard Papa say how lovely she was riding in the buggy with her beautiful hair blowing in the breeze. Mama said that one time when Papa came to see her, Alvin was sitting on the steps. As Papa walked by, Alvin said, “Mr. George, is that the only pair of socks you have?”

In the summer of 1903 when I was six months old, my parents moved to Binnsville, which was nine miles from where they lived. They sent furniture on in a wagon. Papa rode “Old Gray” and carried Louise. Herbert rode his pretty red pony “Chrystine”. Mama Held me, and Dock Stuart her brother-in-law, drove the buggy with “Old Black”. Seemingly, I was very unhappy about. the situation, even at the age of six months , for Mama said I cried all the way. I remember when Thomas was born there on Nov. 18, 1905. A midwife and friend of Mama’s came and stayed overnight, perhaps for several days. She carried a large black bag and told Louise and me that the stork brought the baby there in that bag. I’m not sure I believed that, but was impressed nevertheless.

While we lived near Binnsville, Papa was a struggling farmer. Mama raised turkeys and, as I remember, we were a very happy family.

One day about 1907, we saw a strange red vehicle coming down the road by our house. We stood in amazement while Dr. Lonnie Gilbert drove by in his new red automobile, the first we had ever seen. Time truly brings great changes. Once when Mama took us in the buggy to see our grandparents, we saw this red car in the distance coming toward us. Mama pulled the horse with the buggy as far to the side of the road as she could and stood and held “Old Black” while we children jumped the ditch and ran into the bushes until the car had passed.

A Civil Service examination was being held in Scooba. Papa took the exam and made the highest grade. That meant we would move to town. My parents sold the farm and our beautiful horses that I loved so much. It was hard to see them go. Even at that age I could catch a horse in the pasture, get on and ride without a bridle. I could put Louise and Thomas up and then climb up myself. That was the joy of my life. Mama road side saddle on her horse, which was modest in her day. Long afterward she still had the saddle.

After we moved to Scooba we seemed to grow up so fast… I do have some fond memories of playing the ukulele and the piano and singing. Louise and I took piano lessons, and I took lessons and sang. I had a good voice and sang in all the churches for many special occasions. There were six girls who were “chummy” and that included Louise and me. I was the youngest, but they let me go along, and wherever we went I was to take the ukulele and sing. I knew all the popular songs and enjoyed singing. Often we would get together at one of the homes for piano playing, singing, making candy and cheese straws, etc.

Old -time movies would come to town with their tents, and it seemed the whole town turned out to see them. Mamma would take us, and we would all get a good laugh at some of the comedians such as Charlie Chaplin and others. We would go to Meridian on the train to the Mississippi-Alabama Fair every fall, and we all had fun. We looked forward to this each year. An excursion that ran on the Mobile & Ohio Railroad during the fair would come through Scooba early in the morning and return in the evening. We were usually home by 10:00 p.m. I was glad to get home as my shoes always hurt my feet.

Frances Steele Kimbrough’s recollections of her parents can be found on George and Minnie Kimbrough’s Family Page

The families on both sides were good, honest, down-to-earth people. There were teachers, preachers, farmers, lawyers, doctors, etc. The grandparents were educators and encouraged higher learning. Grandpa, John Wesley Kimbrough, died of a heart attack when I was six years old. Grandma, Elizabeth Steele Kimbrough, died of pneumonia when I was nine. It was a terrible loss to all, and especially to us children. We loved them so much and looked to them in special ways. We always looked forward to visiting them, if only for a weekend. Papa usually road his horse and took one of us children. The Kimbroughs were a very close-knit family and were deeply religious.

Papa (George H. Kimbrough) enjoyed hunting squirrel, deer, and wild turkey. I have known him to bring home two wild turkeys at one time. He hunted quail, doves, ducks, and we liked the wild meat. Mama cooked it so good. Sometimes we would have goose for Thanksgiving dinner. They didn’t seem to have to worry as hard for things in those days, just seemed to have more time. Perhaps it was because I was a small child and did little to help. These people were deeply religious as were all my forebears that I ever knew. I have the sweetest memories of Grandpa (John Wesley) and Grandma (Betsy) Kimbrough when they were still living. We were never aloud to run and play or to ride horseback on Sundays, but instead we studied scriptures and memorized the scriptures. I can still quote from memory.

Meeting and Marrying Benjamin Labeaume Helm

I dated Labeaume Helm a few times, but not once had marriage entered my mind. In November of 1922 I was taken quite ill with acute appendicitis and had emergency surgery on Sunday, November 20th. Labeaume came to see me on Thanksgiving Day and brought a bouquet of pink carnations. We had turkey dinner in the hospital. I couldn’t eat so he ate the turkey dinner. He came to see me when I returned home and when he started to leave he stood at the gate for what seemed hours. He asked me to marry him and I said no. He was persistent and didn’t want to take no for an answer. I told him I wanted to complete my education; I was too young and too immature for marriage. The more reasons I gave the more persuasive he became. We married that night, December 22, 1921 at the Methodist Parsonage in Dekalb, Mississippi. Another couple, Bertha Scott and my cousin Bill Stuart went with us. When Labeaume and I married we went to Louisiana, near Monroe. Norma Frances was born there on January 11, 1923, a pretty little curly haired girl. When she was 22 months old we moved back to Scooba where our families lived.

The Helm family had come to Scooba from Arkansas several years before, a nice family with two sons and five daughters. After a few years, they moved back to Arkansas and we remained in Scooba where my husband was overseeing a plantation for a man who lived in Arkansas. Mr Helm was overseer of this plantation that Labeaume took over.

Camille was born in Scooba in a little house on the edge of town. We moved into what we called the green house when Camille was about a year old. Then we moved again into a large house in a pecan orchard next to the grammar school where Ben and Dorothy Anne were born. Eventually after a few years we moved to the old Jackson home where Uncle John was living. It was good to be with him. He was eighty-four years old and had lived there alone for many years. He was a fun person who always kept his sense of humor. Carolyn was born there on July 23, 1935. Crape myrtle trees were in full bloom and formed a beautiful arbor over the driveway. We had moved nine times. Our lives were much like a gypsy caravan-colorful and at times quite interesting.

My children and I were left alone in the Fall of 1936. Uncle John died February 19,1937. Carolyn was fourteen months old. Those were difficult times, frightening when the house caught fire and when the wind blew the window pane out that stormy night. To think of those days I fell a tinge of sadness at every backward glance.

We moved in with Mama and I went to work in Uncle Tommie’s store. Reliance on the Spirit has run like a golden thread through those troubled days when it seemed nothing went right. Many beautiful experiences in life help us to remember that the flowers will bloom again in the spring. I’m deeply grateful.

I went to church regularly when I was growing up; I studied the Bible and can quote many scriptures. One scripture that comes to my mind is found in Isaiah 48:10. “Behold, I have refined thee. I have chosen thee in the furnace of affliction.” As I look back, I can see the challenge of adversity.

Marrying Russell Pinson Gilbert

On October 20, 1939 I married Russell Pinson Gilbert. I had met him while working in Uncle Tommie’s store. He seemed very nice, refined, educated. He had lost his wife five years previously. They had two daughters, Nancy Kate and Dobbsie, who lived with their aunt in Birmingham, Alabama. His parents and grandparents are natives of Sumter, Alabama, and knew my family.

Russell’s father, was a postmaster and his mother took over as Postmaster after his death. Russell was a rural mail carrier at that time as well, and after his mother’s retirement he was awarded the appointment of Postmaster. He was with the Civil Service for more than 30 years.

Baptism June 1953

Russell and Frances had some marital problems. They were divorced in 1953 in Geiger, Alabama. Just one of the many trials that Frances had to endure.

Howard was a member of the Mormon church. When he was discharged from the Army, They moved to California. Five years and three children later Camille was baptized. They would write me about their beliefs, but never having heard of nor having seen a missionary, it was hard for me to understand. Shortly after I went to visit Camille in Van Nuys, California. In March of 1953, Russ and I traveled by Continental Bus to Los Angeles. We were there three months; Russ was 12 years old. They invited the missionaries to see us. It wasn’t that easy, but I soon realized that it was what I had searched for, for over 30 years. At long last I had found the truth I had searched for. Thanks to my Father in Heaven and to my children. Russ and I were baptized June 27, 1953 by none other than my son-in-law, Howard K. Lundeen, at the Stake House in Burbank, California.

Russell was sick in 1960 and shortly after, a little less than a year he passed away. Russell Gilbert passed away at the age of 69, in October 1961 of emphysema, in the Kemper Co. Hospital.

More Trials Ahead

When Russell died I closed up the house and traveled visiting my daughters, every few weeks driving home. . On March 2, 1963 I received word that my home had burned and nothing was saved. All of my worldly possessions were changed to ashes-records, books, pictures, many things I prized. I felt my world had come to an end. I left Selma April 10, 1963 for California. At the time I had a severe dental problem that was fixed before I left. It was a beginning of a new life. How many hard lesson’s I had learned! While in Los Angeles I worked in the Library in Woodland Hills. I followed my youngest son to Salt Lake City in January 1964. I had a severe rash and spent 9 weeks in the hospital. Here I was in a strange place- no money, no job, and among total strangers. On June 1st, I went to work at the Yardstick, a very nice fabric shop in downtown, Salt Lake City.

On December 14, 1978, while working in the temple, I made a quick turn and tore a ligament in my left knee. It was terribly painful but I kept going. I was Ward Organist at the time and hated to miss church when they were depending on me. Camille and Howard came to get me. I had surgery for a total knee replacement June 15, 1979. I stayed in Toquerville for several weeks until I was able to return home and to my calling in the Temple.

In March 1980 I had a severe attack of a rare problem -Polymyalgea Rheumatica, or inflammation of the arteries all through my body. My legs were paralyzed for a time. I spent several weeks in the LDS Hospital, doctors not knowing what to do or what it was, as they had never had a case like this before. Pain has been a constant companion, so much so that I said to him one day, “Leave me, be on your way.” He said, “I, who have been your teacher, your friend, all you know of understanding, love, of patience, I have taught you. Shall I go?” He spoke the truth, this strange unwelcome guest. I watched him leave and knew that he was wise. He left a clearer vision in my eyes. I dried my tears and lifted up a song even for one who had tortured me so long! I am reminded of Job 19:26, “Yet in my flesh I shall see God.”

A Testimony Of Service

If it weren’t for everything Frances went through she wouldn’t have served like she did. All of her experiences brought her closer to the Lord and helped her help other’s in so many ways.

It is marvelous to have membership in this great church. Here there is an opportunity for service and self development – to be set apart for these assignments. When we go forth in the strength of these callings the Lord goes with us. Knowing this, we can gaina better perspective of our own lives. May God help us to go forward with all our might to endure to the end and have Eternal Life with Him.

My work in the Salt Lake Temple for seven and a half years was a great pleasure and satisfaction. Not because of the great people with whom I work, but because of what we have in common. It was somewhat of a surprise to me when the call came in June, 1975 to serve in the Temple, but it has been my life here. I shall be forever grateful for having the privilege and opportunity for service, a testimony building experience I could never have found elsewhere.

If I have done any good in this life, it is the work I have done for my ancestors who have gone on. I have worked with the missionary program by donating money to buy Book Of Mormons for the missionaries in the field. I have had many cards and letters from people who have accepted the gospel through these efforts. My God-set mission and my self-set goal.

Accepting a Calling on Faith

On the first Sunday in May 1975 at a Fast Meeting in the Wasatch Manor where I live, Bishop Cutler called on me to play the piano for the meeting. I did, but was so shocked that I broke out with a rash that wa with me for a year. After that I was called on to play the piano for Sacrament meetings when the organist was not there. I hadn’t told anyone in Salt Lake that I had ever played a piano, much less an organ. It was too late to start. That was what I thought!

When I was 12 years old I played the organ for our Presbyterian Church back home where Uncle Tommie was minister. It was called a barrel organ and while I played the “organ grinder” would turn the crank. That was so long ago. I always had a piano in my home and played just for pleasure when my children were growing up.

On Sunday July 4, 1976 the Bishop called me in his office and said he was calling me to be Ward Organist. I told him that I could not and really meant it. He said he had prayed about it and knew that I could. He set me apart before I could get out of his office, as the ward organist. I really felt sick, and that no way could I start from scratch and play the organ for church. It had been too long. It was the challenge of a lifetime and only by the help of the Lord could I have possibly done that which was seemingly impossible. I played the organ for the ward for more than four years.

Good Old Fashion Advice

Friendship–

It is wisdom to cultivate friends before the help of friends is needed. So many times a prayer to my Heavenly Father has comforted me. Without prayer and His help and the help of my family and friends, I wouldn’t be here today and be who I am. It is good to keep in mind that while there is nothing so constant as change, neither is there anything so changeless as truth. We must always have the spirit of forgiveness. President Spencer W. Kimball said, ” He who will not forgive breaks down the bridge over which he himself must travel.”

No Regrets- Don’t Let Life Pass You By-

There are things that no doubt concern most of us when the years have passed and we realize that time is slipping away. We know we must live the remained of our lives in a meaningful way. We must continue to give of ourselves to try and help those less fortunate than we. May we never relive any of our past failures and mistakes; that we may feel and know that we have done the best we could. The trouble with most of us is that we are afraid. We want to do the right thing for the right reason, but we seem to want to sit back and let the world drift about us. The only way that I have found to conquer this feeling, which has always been a part of me, is to forget myself entirely and remember that I am serving the Master. I realized that so completely when I played the organ for the Ward, not being accustomed to doing those things. Oh , how we learn when we are called to serve! I am still working on that.

Southern Gal Thru and Thru- Where Is Home?

There are pleasant memories of my parents and my children and the old home town. One can leave and go a long way and stay a long time, can acquire strange tastes and customs, learn to love the mountains and the people they had never known, but the memory of their home town is always in the back of their mind.

I made several trips back home until I was convinced there was no place for me there. I cried rivers of tears for several years. I had to be strong. A person who lived close by was a ministering angel to me. To move from one part of the country to another is so different that it isn’t easy. I was homesick for those I love and left behind. Sometimes it would seem the clouds were hanging oppressively low and a mournful wind cried through the trees. I have closed the door and walked away, feeling that life had hurt me more than I could bear. Thankfully, all things pass just as cloudy skies cannot last indefinitely. Tomorrow will be better and the skies will be blue again. I have told myself that so many times.

I would not trade my lot in life for anyone’s I know, for in my trials and happiness I’ve felt my spirit grow. I’ve glimpsed through clouds of darkest hue a glorious sight of all things true, with a silver lining that leads me on, toward life’s sunset with my work well done.

I would not trade one day of life for all the years there are, but keep my chin raised high and firm, and my eyes upon a star.

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