Her Long Illness
As genealogists, we often encounter brief phrases in obituaries that hint at long and difficult stories. One such phrase appears in the obituary of my 2nd great-grandmother, Sarah Ellen (Ralston) Hammond:
“…three years after Mrs. Hammond developed the incurable form of scrofula from which for 23 years, she was a sufferer…”
What did those 23 years look like?
The following is a glimpse into Sarah’s life in Dodge City during the late 1880s—after the family’s move west, but before her children began marrying and starting families of their own.
A Time in the Life of Sarah Ellen (Ralston) Hammond
Dodge City, Kansas — about 1887
The Kansas wind carried dust against the small Hammond home, rattling the door as Sarah Ellen Hammond paused in her work. She steadied herself against the table and waited—just a moment—for her strength to return.
It had been years now—so many years that she could scarcely remember life before the illness.
Not long after her marriage, when her first children were still small, the disease had come. The doctors called it scrofula, a lingering and often incurable affliction that settled into the glands of the neck. At first, it was only swelling. Then came the weakness, the pain, and the slow wearing down of her strength. By the time the family made their way west to Kansas, it had already become a part of her life—something she carried each day, quietly and without complaint.
By 1887, Sarah was nearing forty, though the years of illness had etched themselves into her face and frame. Around her, life pressed forward. Estella was nearly grown, Forest not far behind, and the younger children—Nellie, Josie, and Clyde—filled the house with movement and noise. There was work to be done, meals to prepare, clothes to mend. And Sarah, despite her condition, remained at the center of it all.
She moved more slowly now. There were moments when the swelling in her neck flared painfully, when fatigue came on so suddenly she had to stop and rest. Some days were better than others. On the harder days, she paced herself carefully, choosing what must be done and what could wait.
Richmond was often away—working land, building, taking contracts, doing whatever was needed to secure a future for his family in this new Kansas home. Yet his devotion to Sarah showed in the life they built together. He had stood beside her through years of illness, tending to her as best he could, sacrificing comfort and ease so she might have a measure of both.
Evenings brought a quieter kind of strength. When the work of the day was finished, Sarah found comfort in her faith. It had sustained her through years of suffering—through the loss of a child, through the constant presence of disease, through the uncertainty of frontier life. She believed there was purpose in endurance, that even in pain there could be peace.
Those around her saw it. They saw the patience with which she bore her illness, the calm that settled over her even in discomfort. It was not that she did not suffer—she did, deeply and daily—but that she endured it with a steady and quiet resolve.
Outside, the prairie stretched wide and unyielding. Inside, Sarah shaped a home filled with care and faith, even as her strength slowly diminished.
Living. Enduring. Believing.
Understanding Scrofula
In the 19th century, scrofula was the name given to a form of tuberculosis that affected the lymph nodes, especially in the neck. It often caused visible swelling, chronic infection, and long-term physical decline. The disease could persist for years—sometimes decades—as it did in Sarah’s case.
At the time, there was no effective cure. Treatments were limited, and many sufferers endured a slow, lingering illness. Despite this, individuals like Sarah were often remembered not only for their suffering, but for their endurance—something clearly reflected in her obituary.
Final Thoughts
It is easy to read a single line in an obituary and move on. But behind that line—“a sufferer for 23 years”—was a life lived in the midst of hardship.
Sarah Ellen (Ralston) Hammond was not defined solely by her illness. She was a wife, a mother of six, and a woman of deep faith who helped build a life for her family on the Kansas frontier. Her story reminds us that even in the face of long and difficult trials, there is strength in endurance and meaning in the everyday moments of life.