Oma’s 99th

The small woman with the dark brown hair and light blue eyes was slowly rolled out of the church sanctuary into the decorated gym of the church. If she looked up, she could see a huge banner proclaiming the news of the day; Pauline Theola Lassiter Hall was born on that day one year short of a century ago.  A little West Texas town of Merkel became the home where she grew up under the care of her German immigrant mother and father of French-Irish descent.
The year was 1917, and World War I was raging in Europe, but having little effect on that dry, dusty town where her father had a job as a telegraph operator for the railroad.
Pauline was the fifth girl, and her birth was followed in pretty quick succession by two boys.
Growing up, she was shy, but upon graduation from high school out in the world, she went to begin a life that was bold and adventuresome. The year was 1935, and the world was in a deep depression, but Pauline found jobs as a waitress and went wherever her older sisters forged the way. Life was rough and tumble, and there were many hard lessons for a beautiful young woman out on her own.
Her most significant event in these years occurred in Alexandria, Va. where she met a very shy son of German immigrants. The year was 1942, and he was working in the torpedo plant making weapons to win the war against his parents’ fatherland. Pauline and Milton Chester Hall married in that same year and began their life together with a honeymoon in Atlantic City.
War dominated their lives as it did all Americans in those years.  Milton served in the Coast Guard, and Pauline’s two brothers served overseas. It was a time of hardship and high drama, living on the deserted beaches of North Carolina, as Milton scoured the landscaping for German U-boats and suspicious strangers walking along the coast. Although fearing for her brothers’ safety as they battled overseas, Pauline kept a steady stream of prayers to God for their safety. Also on the lonely beaches of Manteo, their first baby was learning to walk.
The war ended and after a few years, Pauline and Milton found themselves transplanted to the spot where they raised all four of their children, Las Cruces, N.M. Three hardy boys and one lovely little girl called them Mom and Dad.
As Pauline rolled in her wheelchair over to her seat of honor at her birthday party, she was passing by photographs representing much of her life’s history. There was a picture of Dan, their son who died in his late 50s, a heartache a mother never forgets. Next came pictures of Arthur Ray, Oliver Dennis, and finally Elizabeth Elaine, children who wanted to honor their mother for all the ways she has loved and inspired them.
She also may have glanced at a group of women in a 5 x 7 black-and-white photograph who were all dressed alike as they dined together in Juarez, Mexico. These were the women of the Ninety Nines, a small group of women pilots. Pauline followed Milton and earned her pilot’s license after all her children had grown and left home. It was an accomplishment that brought her great satisfaction and fun, not to mention all the flying adventures it led to. The traveling bug bit her early as she and her brothers and sisters traveled everywhere on their father’s train pass.  The airplane just added wings to the bug.
In her later years, she and Milton came out to Cape May County to be close to her two sons and their families.
Soon afterward, Milton died, leaving Pauline, or Oma (as she was now called by everyone because she seemed like everyone’s grandmother) to start the next chapter in her long life. Now her life is spent as a prayer warrior for her children, grandchildren, and even great-grandchildren, who revere her for her cheerful attitude and her Godly ways.
As her life continues now into her hundredth year, she has become centered on being ready for the Lord to take her home. Every day her spirit shines through the frail, aching body, and she tries to do some kindness to someone in her path. May we all strive to be more like her.