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My Memories of Pistol Hill
By Debbie Cartwright
Long after the incident that gave Pistol Hill its name and long before the City of Elgin formalized that name, the gravel road from Old McDade Road, across the railroad tracks, and up the hill to the city’s water treatment facility was the path to my grandparents’ home. That farmhouse was the location of many happy times.
The property was purchased by my mother’s parents—Willie and Jimmie Biggers—in the late 1940s when they moved from the Elgin Standard Brick community. It was situated west of the water treatment facility on about five acres that had originally been part of a larger tract of land owned by the Brown family. Ozie Brown was the husband of my grandfather’s half-sister Lillie, and they lived in a nearby farmhouse on about 100 acres located directly across the gravel road from the city’s property.
Pistol Hill was the location of a shoot-out between a farmworker who was working for the Brown family and his relative after a few too many adult beverages in 1915. Although Lillie and her daughter were traumatized, no one was harmed, and the incident became the subject of family lore and the naming of the hill on which the Brown farmhouse stood.
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As a child, I never heard the story about the shoot-out near Ozie and Lillie’s home. I wouldn’t have cared in the 1950s because I was too interested in exploring, rather than learning about the history of the area. I especially loved to examine rocks on the gravel road. I was convinced that the quartz-laden rocks had diamonds in them! Lillie collected rocks with unusual shapes and colors, so I happily added to her collection.
My grandmother converted a chicken coop into a playhouse for my siblings and me. It was great fun to pretend it was our own “apartment” with canned goods, chairs, and a table. What was terrifying was the bull in the pasture that investigated the playhouse occasionally and peered in a hole in the wall!
My grandfather raised watermelons at the farm and would gather them in a trailer pulled by his tractor. On Sundays during the summer, he would drive the grandchildren and cousins around the acreage and gravel road in the trailer with the melons. We enjoyed both the ride and eating the melons later. Here is a photograph of my grandfather driving the tractor and holding my sister Glenda, with my sister Janice, cousins Sandra, Pat, and Mike, and me in the trailer.
Sundays were special times for our family at the farm. No work was allowed. The grown-ups sat in the yard, told stories, and relaxed. The children played games of their own creation. Activities were held mainly outdoors on Sundays and weekdays too. The sounds of the trains and vehicles were clear, as were the practice sessions of the Booker T. Washington High School marching band. Band practice started in August in preparation for football season. I could hear the drums and horns clearly and loved the sounds that I associated with the start of the school year.
No one really noticed that the city’s water treatment facility was located on the adjacent property. It was the scene of maintenance activities by city workers on occasion, but for the most part, it was a tranquil setting that was part of the rural landscape. The maintenance building can be seen in this photograph of my mother Dorothy Cartwright feeding my sister Janice on the porch that faced the city’s property.
Pistol Hill continues to represent the best that Elgin offers—rural heritage, good water, and family ties. While times and land uses change, memories are forever and provide the history that is so important to community strength and development.