Harold Herbert Hall
aka Harold and HHH

Harold Hall was the son of Carey Hall II who operated the town music store in Coffeyville, Kansas and was married to Alice.  Carey passed away when Harold was only ten. Alice and her six children continued to operate the music store downtown for a number of years.  Eventually Alice married Rev. Francis Doyle who pioneered a number of churches in the mid-west region.

Harold attended university in Topeka and Kansas City, Kansas, and Bible College in Enid, Oklahoma and Los Angeles.  He married Dorothy Byrum at the Denver Revival Tabernacle - at that time pastored by Kathryn Kuhlman.  Harold was active with the Gideons (Bible distribors) for many years and part of the first chapter of the Full Gospel Business Men's Fellowship (FGBMFI) in Los Angeles.

His greatest joy was to lead someone to a relationship with the Lord. He loved the Word of God and did all he knew how to help spread God's Word.  He started and led the "Bible League of Los Angeles" and helped get thousands of Bibles out in schools, prisons, hospitals, farms...

He may be best known for his "Singtime Gospel Choruses" booklet (used by many churches across the nation at that time), his musical talent with the sax and many other instuments, and author of some gospel tracts, one of which helped reach his own son, Don Hall, in a Los Angeles jail.  Don went on to start Teen Challenge in Los Angeles and Hawaii which has seen tens of thousands of young people in trouble come to know the Lord.

-----------------------------------------------------

From the article "Dad, a lady, and the Train":

...This large black man... sitting in our living room... wept quietly. 
"I'm so grateful to you, Mr. Hall.  You risked your life
 to save my wife's life - an ol' colored lady - and you a white..."

Read the amazing true story about Harold saving the life of a woman who was run over by a train
- and the first Los Angeles ambulance came but wouldn't help.  Written by Don Hall, edited by Beverly Caruso.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

September 1, 2009 is the 100th birthday of our forebearer: Harold Herbert Hall. He was born in the family home in Coffeyville, Kansas on September 1, 1909.

The second son out of four with two younger sisters. He married Dorothy Byrum in 1936 in Denver, Colorado. They had two sons: J. Donald and David Byrum, and two daughters Margaret (Peggy) Ann (Krake) and Beverly Alice (Caruso).

 

Just for the fun of it, for those who might be interested, what if we start a nostalgia story telling? You can hit Reply All and send it to everyone. (I hope) the list of recipients includes only those who were born in or married into the family. I'll start...

 
---------

Many of my truly happy memories of Dad are centered around Halloween. Strange, cause we don't even celebrate it anymore. Who's going to come to our door out in the middle of nowhere? Halloween is when I've missed Dad the most. The first memory is an all church party. I was about 5-6 years old. Behind the house on Florence Avenue where we lived in Los Angeles was a big barn. We cleaned it up some and had chairs all around the outside walls. A curtain hung in front of a table. A light behind made a silhuette onto the curtain of the table and someone who laid on the table. Our Dad was the Medical Examiner, doing an autopsy. As he 'opened up' the 'body' he took out the 'innards,' holding them up to be seen against the curtain. Then the 'body parts' were passed around the room. Dad's running monologue as he pulled these parts from the body made the whole thing seem very real. In the darkened room the 'parts' seemed to really be 'body parts.' The guts were, of course, only cooked spaghetti, the liver was a calf liver, the eyeballs were peeled grapes, etc. What a fun night that was. Maybe you'll want to duplicate it this Halloween in honor of HHH's 100th anniversary. Happy Birthday! Dad  Love, Bev  (Lake Elsinore, Southern Cal.)

--------

Grandpa Hall taught me to whistle--well, I don't know if he really was the one who taught me, but that's how my memory remembers it!  Must have been in southern California, probably at the Caruso's house in Orange, during furlough when I was 7.  I remember watching in fascination as he imitated various bird sounds, and working to copy his sounds and the way his cheeks pumped in and out as he warbled! Grandpa had a very slight presence in my life--but those memories are there!  Lori (Krake) Earl  (Quincy, Massachusetts)


--------

I have a mini-nostalgic story to tell you all. Harold Herbert Hall who I knew as plain ole 'Grandpa Hall.' I can still remember. I was around 6 or 7 years old, Grandpa Hall was babysitting me in my Downey, Ca. house on Otto street. Well, came lunch time he showed me the 'new way' to making a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich. Simply he (toasted) the 2 slices of bread in the toaster. Then made my sandwich as usual. Now-a-days having peanut-butter and jelly on --> toasted bread <-- is no big deal. But, back in the Late 1960's as a kid I thought it was the Biggest Invention he had ever showed me. Today....43 years later, I still love having peanut-butter and jelly on toast. But for some reason, Grandpa's homemade 'Toasted' peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches tasted way way better back when he made it...then when I make it today. Ohhh!  One last thing.  With Grandpa's "Jaw" you never needed a massager for your achy muscles.  He'd gladly give his own method of massaging. By his chin. It tickled mostly. I loved it.  Love and miss you, family. Steve Hall  (San Jose, Northern California)  

----------

I love hearing these stories - keep going! I just have little glimpses of memories of him so it's great to hear.  Julie Krake (Sacremento, California)
------------

Dad seemed to have an uncanny magnetic draw to "follow the smoke," whether it was an ambulance heading to an accident, a fire truck, or practically "somebody smoking in the block." He seemed to be able to smell it. And if he thought he might be able to help, he'd put his foot to the floor and try to get there as fast as he could, and stay alive himself in the process. Though IF you happened to be with him on such an occasion you were likely praying that YOU would somehow be able to survive the ordeal without harm. And so many times he arrived at an accident BEFORE the police or ambulance got there.

But the other, probably more important, thing that came to mind about Dad/Grandpa, was the many times I saw him literally crying out to God at the altar, often holding his hands behind his back as he walked around and prayed for God to do His work in each heart that had responded and come forward, and knelt at the altar. Perhaps my memory has it wrong, but it seems to me like that was nearly every Sunday night, at least during the years I was growing up in Anaheim. Perhaps my life - perhaps yours - would have turned out much differently if it weren't for his - and Mom's/Grandma's - faithful, fervant, and faith-filled prayers? Perhaps I should be praying more.

There's also a page on him at: http://across2u.com/HHH-FamilyTies.html. This includes a pic at or around the time of their marriage; and a pic of the chorus book he put together that was used by tens of thousands of people in hundreds - perhaps thousands - of churches around the country. On that page you will also find a link (at the bottom) of info about HHH's uncle, William C. Hall, taken from the Kansas State Library (Pages 727-728 from volume III, part 1 of Kansas: a cyclopedia of state history,) which, among other things, talks about "our first American ancestor came over on the Mayflower".    David Hall  (New Zealand)

--------------

Lori, I think I was there when he taught you to whistle. I think he had taught me a couple years earlier, and so I was eager to watch. Sherry, I remember not being duped to believing it was really Santa, but being Grandpa. The boys were all very excited, but you and I were not believing it. But it was a fun memory!

 

One of my earliest memories in life was playing in our back yard with Mike, and Grandpa walks up from our gate. He sees that we are watching a snail, and proceeds to convince us it would make a great lunch. Grandpa goes into this elaborate description of how wonderful and tasty they would be either toasted and crunchy or squishy and raw. I think I was 4 and Mike 2. (I later convinced Mike to try it for me and tell me what it was like.)

 

I Remember him playing the trumpet so effortlessly, except that his cheeks were huge and puffed up. I'd never seen cheeks get that big before. I remember walking down the hall of his house and seeing him shave with those brushes that would rub the shaving cream around. He seemed to smell of menthal. I also watched him make his seasoning salt once. That was fascinating. I was small enough that I had to stand on a chair. I wondered why he had to put the mix into the oven. Then the whole house would smell of it.

 

His big cheeky smile and his whistling are what I will always see in my mind. Debbie (Caruso) Peterson  (So. Cal.)

--------------

I love these stories, Cousins. Keep them coming. Did I miss the responses from (Aunt and Uncle) Peg, Ken, Don and Patti - and Peter? I know there are some great adventures to be told there. I'll limit my reflections to just a few thoughts: 1) I'm dealing with some pretty bushy eyebrows at my current advanced age, and yet I've got nothing on Grandpa. Boy, when he smiled though, didn't the eyes under those brows light up the room?! 2) A man who loved to serve. When he heard I was using a borrowed trumpet in school, (I was 11 or 12) he tracked down a good deal on a horn and then gave me this cool used coronet he had found. It's in the family to this day. (I think Daniel has it at his house?)

Hhmmm. Music and Ministry. I may not have a lot of memories of HHH, but I certainly seem to have a heritage. And I am grateful. David C  (Los Angeles, Calif.)

---------------

[There's room for your story.]

--------------

It has been very interesting reading all these comments and remembrances of Dad/Grandpa Hall----some I remember vividly and some I had never heard before (especially that adventure in LA, Don).   Just to add another thought about Dad's trips------ I remember Dad coming home and sharing his experiences of picking up hitchhikers, witnessing to them, and then leading them to the Lord.  That always impressed me.   He truly loved his Lord.    

Ken reminded me that both he and Pete found Dad on a ladder when they each asked for his daughter's hand. [Amost giving the impression that he was too preocupied to have this vital conversation?]  Dad was always fixing up and repairing things.   Remember Sebastian (our large turtle)?   He lived in our back yard where Dad always kept things looking so nice.  I'm still amazed that Dad built that huge fireplace in our Anaheim house by himself.  It was beautifully done with rocks he collected in Arizona.  He was a man of many talents.  Peggy Krake (San Antonio, Texas)

 To see a pic of that huge fireplace you can Google search: 500 Meadowbrook, Anaheim. Or click here:
http://maps.google.co.nz/maps?hl=en&source=hp&q=500+Meadowbrook,+Anaheim&um=1&ie=UTF-8&split=0&gl=nz&ei=YDSgSq-UPJfW7APJpZTqCw&sa=X&oi=geocode_result&ct=title&resnum=1.
Yes, he did all that brick work, which covered nearly half of the front face of the house (excluding the garage). You can see it from kadycorner by Googling: 1502 W Beverly Dr, Anaheim (then go around tell you see the right house).

I think I've got a b&w pic of me on a tricycle next to Grandpa [Russel] Byrum in front of that fireplace. I'll see if I can find it and include it here. (It's now the picture above, in the back yard of the house on Westside Ave.

The pic on the left shows most of the face of the Meadowbrook fireplace. The pic from the link above is actually better. Sorry I don't have any of the inside. (Note Bev & I are ready to go trick-or-treating. Yes, I'm in a white bunny-rabbit costume, about 9 or ten years old.) - David

----------------

Another memory for me is what started out as a typical Sunday morning. Mom had to get there on time to teach a Sunday school class. As usual, she'd given everyone notice that we'd be leaving in so many minutes. The time came and we all got in the car; all except Dad, that is. This was one time too many for Mom to be late on Dad's account. She backed the car out of the driveway, turned toward Santa Barbara Avenue three houses away (what is now Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd.) and made the turn onto it. Behind us I could hear Dad. Looking out the back window I saw Dad, tie and jacket in hand. With the other he was trying to get Mom to come back for him. (Could the neighbors hear him on a quiet Sunday morning?) She drove on. After that I think we always had two cars driving to church - one for those ready, the other for Dad and anyone else who wasn't ready on time.  There were disadvantages to this system. David was small, maybe 5 or 6. One Sunday both Mom and Dad got home only to learn that little David was not with either of them. Fortunately this was one of the Sundays we were having the pastor's family come to eat with us. A few minutes later David came dragging into the house with the pastor's family. Dave, do you remember? How did you feel?  - Bev

 

Now I remember things quite differently-----I remember Dad heading out to the car and then honking the horn a few times to get us all out there.  To this day, if Ken goes out to the car first to wait for me (which he has done only a handful of times)----I tie up in knots because of the memory of what Dad did.  - Peg

I'll bet it was a different day. In my memory, Dad is the one that was perpetually late. Yes, I do recall sometimes when Dad honked for us, but those would have been the exceptions. The day of his run down Santa Barbara Ave. you might have spent the night at Mary Lou's. - Bev

No I don't remember getting left at the church. But of course i remember hiding at the family farm in Coffeyville when I was five, hoping the family would forget about me so I could stay there on the farm while they drove to the the east coast. As I recall they did START to drive away before realizing I wasn't in the car and then proceeded to search for me, finally finding me hiding in the basement. (Bev had already figured out a way to avoid that part of the trip, as I recall, staying with the Byrums in Denver.)

And I recall very well the time I was home alone, playing cowboys and Indians. I thought I found a great place to hide from "the bad guys" when I climbed in the cedar chest. Of course I didn't know it would lock me in. And I had no concept of being in an air-tight container. I have no idea how long I was in there or how much of that air I had used up, but I was grateful when I was finally discovered in there.  - David

----------------

Hi Everybody.

 

Where do I start in sharing some thoughts about Dad on his 100th birthday, if he were still living today? I may have some of the most vivid memories of Dad/Grandpa Hall because I was the first born. Some highlights include:

 

*  When we were in the car together as a family, it wasn't easy for Dad & Mom to keep order in the backseat with 3 young kids. Dad had a way of quieting things down by reaching around the front seat and pinching the perpetrator (which was usually me). But, sometimes he pinched the wrong person, making things even worse!

 

*  I recall flying on my first plane ride with Dad in an old prop plane from Denver to San Diego during WWII. Besides visiting some of the family, he checked out a job opening at Consolidated so he could move our family to California, which he did in about 1943. I wonder how many plane rides I've had since then?

 

*  With all the moving we did over the next few years (San Diego, LA, Orange Co, San Francisco, etc), I helped and watched Dad pack things safely, yet tightly in trucks & cars. Just one of the things I learned how to do from him. Another one, was how to paint - and clean up brushes and the work site.  

 

*  Dad/Grandpa made a living mostly as a salesman. Although, in the early years of their marriage, Dad & Mom briefly pastored two churches (Garden City, KS and Cortez, CO) and traveled in evangelistic work. He sold real estate off and on, but most of the time he sold large family Bibles and extracts/concentrated flavoring of vanilla, lemon, orange, almond, etc. He would usually go out of town to rural farming communities for a week or two at a time and sell. At times I would go with him. For awhile he had a Hudson car, one of the first that allowed the seats to fold down into a bed, so that's where we slept. He would often use the sales presentations as an opportunity to share Christ with people. He was a zealous soul-winner, and I watched him lead many people to the Lord, including farmers while they were sitting on their tractors. In that respect, he was a good mentor to me for the future when I accepted the Lord & called into ministry. Since then, I have always had a heart for personal evangelism. Dad, Charlie Cancilla (friend), & the HS can be thanked for that.

  

*  Patti and I starting Teen Challenge in LA during the Summer of 63' (when over 700 decisions for Christ took place among gang members, drug addicts and others). Dad, with his keen sense of real estate savvy, located a huge 3-story home (7,000 sf) in West LA that became our main rehab Center ($50K). Later, he was able to find another great place 3 blocks away that became the Girl's Home ($27K). There were other ways he was a blessing to the program and residents. So, in his own way, Dad/Grandpa had a significant part in the early day of Teen Challenge. He received little recognition for things, while others often received the honors.

 

*  Dad's readiness for adventure even rivaled mine. One day in 1965 while driving through SW Los Angeles, I came upon an unfortunate street incident that became one of the seeds that started the infamous Watts Riots. A couple of black guys were on the ground being beaten severely with the police officers clubs. I'm not sure what their offence was, but as I watched, a large angry crowd of blacks had gathered across the street. They increased their yelling and cursing at the officers. That afternoon began two nightmare days and nights of the worst rioting and racial unrest the city has ever known. The last night has been called "Black Friday" by the media. LA had become lawless, out of control, and was in flames.

    I called Dad and asked if he were up to a little "adventure". He soon arrived at the Teen Challenge Center which was on the perimeter of events. For the next two hours, Dad and I were witnesses to horrific scenes of violence, theft, and a little of what hell must be like. Street mobs roamed everywhere; entire shopping centers were ablaze; vandalism was rampant; gunshots were often heard; and police lined looters up against walls and arrested them. In several locations we watched as trucks and vans parked out in front of furniture and other stores while whole families participated in stripping the stores of their contents. On one occasion, we informed the police that there was a large store being looted up the street. The looters had a lookout, so by the time the police got there they and the truck were gone. Only one problem - some onlookers saw us talking to the officers. When the police left we were vulnerable, and a chase pursued through the streets of LA. A car of very angry Blacks kept tailing us. After a few minutes, Dad and I came upon a fire truck with men working on their hoses. We stayed there under their protection for about 15 minutes until it seemed safe to leave. It was now about 1:00 AM. I asked Dad if he'd had enough. We agreed we should get out of the danger zone and go home. It was more adventure than we both had bargained for -- maybe for a lifetime!     

 

*  Dad deeply loved his wife and children, although he didn't always know the best way to show it. Among the things I have of his that I discovered in an old Bible after his death in '85 is a note that he intended to leave the family in case he died. In 1951 he was having symptoms of a heart attack and thought he might not live. Of course he did live for many more years. But, his "last words" to us at that uncertain time were very touching and meaningful. They were written on a Buckeye Valley blank check and said on one side: "Honey, my heart is acting up today (1-16-51). Have been having sharp pain around my heart for one hour - sometimes one every minute." The "check" was made payable to "The Four Hall Children" for $ "Boundless Riches" and signed "In the Name of Jesus Christ"

   
On the other side he wrote:

"Dearest Dorothy, I love you with all my heart - and my precious children. I do want you to know it and never forget Dad. He wanted [me] to be his best for you and do the best for you. My heart's desire is that you will always live for Jesus. Keep close to Him, and keep filled with His love and Holy Spirit. Let His life, His grace and His power live through you. Always be fair and honest. Play by the Rules of the Game of Life. The rules are the Holy Bible. The stakes are high.
The rewards are sure. Stay on the winning team - the Lord's side.
I hope my heart keeps ticking. I want to do more for Him."

Dad/Grandpa died in April of 1986 in Houston of a Congestive Heart. He was always so proud of each of his children and grandchildren.

    HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD (On your 100th)!

 

Your Brother, Uncle, Dad & Grandpa, etc,  Love, Don (& Patti) Hall

Thank you so much for sharing the precious "final words" from Grandpa Hall. I know I've heard it at some point in my life but it is so nice to remember our Christian Heritage. It brought tears to my eyes. I never knew Grandpa Hall, so I don't have any stories to share, but I do know that he can claim (from Heaven) that even his Great-Great Grandchildren love Jesus. :) How awesome it that!!!!!

    ~ Katie (Peterson) Larson (Missouri)

-----------------

Thanks family for sharing stories about my Grandfather!  I wish I could have met him, but I will have to wait until I get to Heaven one day.  I'll pass on the stories to my kids. Happy Birthday & I Love you Grandpa Hall  - Jonathan Hall  (Auckland, NZ)

-------------

Hi Jonathan,  Glad you enjoyed the stories and memories sent by several of us about Grandpa Hall. Sorry you missed knowing him first hand. He was quite a unique person, and as they say - "one of a kind". Some had difficulty understanding and appreciating him -  but he always wanted the best for others. Yes, he had feet of clay like most [ALL] of us, but he had a big heart and was uniquely gifted by the Lord he faithfully served for 76 years. As he grew older, he felt disappointment in not being able to reach all of his dreams for his life and career. Yet he reveled in the achievement of his kids, grandkids, and others in the extended family. I'm sure he is in heaven's grandstands still rooting all of us on in our relationships, giftings and various ministries. Love, Uncle Don

<>

---

Kansas historical records provide the following
Family Ties

Carey's brother was William C. Hall, a prominent physician, surgeon and community leader in Coffeyville. William was born in Highland county, Ohio, Oct. 29, 1860, a son of Carey F. (senior) and Hannah (Milburn) Hall, the former a native of Highland county, Ohio, born Oct. 20, 1836, and the mother was also born in that county and state. The father was a merchant by occupation and died in December, 1895.

Click here for more info on William C. Hall and the family background (which traces back to the Mayflower).

A - Across Pacific Magazine 

C - Christian Ministries and Churches

R - Referrals  -  Reconciliation
O - Outreach

S - Sponsorship

S - Schools