'Sister Sarah' marks 99 years in Osage: Meeting FDR as a high-schooler and working at the Pentagon in World War II are among the items in her scrapbook of memories

Apr. 20—OSAGE — Sister Sarah will never forget what it was like regarding Franklin Roosevelt in his wheelchair and shaking his hand at the White House.

And when that one movie came out a few years back, she started thinking about Katherine Johnson, remembering how the prodigy made the chalk dust swirl, with columns of numbers on the blackboard, in her classroom at the old Monongalia High School.

As it turns out, the once-unheralded "Hidden Figures " numbers star at NASA was Sister Sarah's math teacher for a time.

During Sister Sarah's stint as a secretary at the Pentagon in World War II, it wasn't uncommon for her to look up from her 70-word-a-minute typing to regard Gen. MacArthur or Admiral Nimitz bustling by.

Being a young Black newlywed in Philadelphia after the war — a kid from the country roads of West Virginia transplanted to the concrete climes of the big city — made for all kinds of moments and interactions.

"I have to say that it's been a pretty interesting life, " Sarah Boyd Little mused Thursday afternoon.

"That's what I get for sticking around this long, I guess."

To date, that's been 99 years.

Thursday was her birthday, and the milestone was marked with a surprise party at the Scotts Run Museum and Trail.

The storehouse of artifacts also serves as a community meeting place in the center of the tight-knit coal camp Little came back to after her years away.

In Osage, those who are still left, still know her as "Sister Sarah, " a childhood nickname.

Like a lot of ex-pat West Virginians of her generation and race, she felt the sting of bigotry, but she always managed to handle it.

She always knew, she said, that people are inherently kind.

You just have to get to know them, that's all.

That lesson wasn't imparted in Osage, she said, because it wasn't necessary.

It was a Melting Pot for coal mining.

The company houses of Osage were home to Blacks up from Alabama, whites from across Appalachia, Italians over from Calabria and more, counting the Russians, Poles and Hungarians on the next hill over.

A good 19 nations, in all.

Fluent English, broken English, dialects — and Sunday dishes — of every stripe.

A good education at an all-Black high school. That audience with FDR was when her choir took a field trip to the nation's capital.

The years always get the last word, though.

Most of Osage's original residents have died off, and their grandchildren are getting there, too.

Even so, Mary Jane Coulter said, the essence of Osage remains — and it probably always will, she asserts.

"We've still got our history and our heart, " said Coulter, the museum's executive director.

That was the other thing on display at the museum Thursday.

People brought covered dishes for Sister Sarah's birthday. The kitchen was brimming with casseroles, chicken, macaroni salad — all the West Virginia, coal camp staples.

Little bestowed hugs and opened cards bestowed unto her.

She smiled and said, "Oh, my Lord, " and "Amen, " a lot at the outpouring.

Eve Faulkes, a WVU professor who has worked with Little on historical projects at Osage, delivered a double-birthday cake from her kitchen.

Two offerings: One round chocolate, one round vanilla, each topped with a No. 9 waxed candle, to mark the number of years in the celebration.

"Sarah !" the professor called out over the joyful noise.

"I want you to know I made this cake with a lot of love — but not a lot of skill."

The guest of honor laughed.

"You're doing fine, honey. You're doing fine."

TWEET @DominionPostWV