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Note: Ann lived east of Joplin, Missouri. The oldest house in East Joplin (a bi g, red brick house) was built by her uncle John C. Cox who came to Missou ri with a slave by horseback from Tennesse. John's sister Olive Cox lat er joined him and married Robert Jesse Dale, who was a clerk in a local Ba ptist Church. From "Jasper County, Missouri, in the Civil War" By Ward L. Schrantz, Publ ished 1923 Pages 134-136: Something of the perilous situations to which civilians were exposed dur ing this period is shown by the description given by Mrs. Ann F. Wise, dau ghter of Robert J. Dale, of an incident that happened about this time: "The night of June 21, 1863, will ever be fresh in my memory, for ju st as we were ready to retire in our country home (now Villa Heights a sub urb of Joplin) two men came in from the back door and demanded to 'seee t he man of the house,' one saying, ' Mr. Robert Dale.' "Father had lain down weary from harvesting. They wanted to see him pri vately, saying they wanted him to come out into the yard as they had a sec ret to tell him. And this was the secret: 'We hear you have $800 in confe derate money. If you don't produce it in two minutes we are going to ki ll you.' "After father had satisfied them he did not have the $800 and gave up $ 15 in greenbacks, all that he had, they still were restless because fath er had recognized one of the two men. After walking back and forth from t he gate, where, it was afterwards made clear, they were consulting othe rs of their party, one said: 'Old man, you had just as well step out and d ie like a man and stop troubling your family. All the devils in hell can 't save you.' Mother, and older sister and myself surrounded father. T he tall, red haired young man who had been recognized by father, held a re volver over my head to shoot. We whirled around with the other two betwe en to shield him. I said to the man 'What do you think will become of y ou when you die, trying to kill an innocent man?' With an oath he replie d, 'I am not thinking of that now.' "After much maneuvering we succeeded in getting into the house with fath er and barring the doors by putting bedsteads against them. The men beg an breaking window lights with their revolvers, while one on an opposite s ide punched out the daubing, it being a log house, and threw in lighted br ands. I tried to hold quilts and shawls over the windows so father cou ld run out the back door, but the men jerked them away. Father took a sa ck of wool that was ready to send to the carded and placed it on his ba ck to catch any shots and sprang from the back door for his life. Simulta neously we heard four shots. I reached the door in time to see the red fl ash of one shot and a mournful call of 'Oh Lord.' "We ran to the sound and found a man we thought was father, lying on h is face, blood gushing from his mouth. While mother was holding his he ad we discovered the man wore spurs and quickly retreated toward the hous e, but ran into two other men. "'Is your pap dead, sis?' one asked. "'That man had on spurs,' I answered. "'Good God, boys, we've killed one of our own men,' was the startled exc lamation that followed. "The dead man proved the same one who had taken the $15. Soon aft er we got into the house a hand reached in behind the door, which had be en pried off its hinges when the guerrillas were trying to get in, and pul led two quilts oof the bed. Next morning we saw blood on the fence just e ast of the brick spring house, which still stands today on the Clara pla ce at Villa Heights, where they carried away the dead man. "Needles to say my father escaped uninjured."
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