The below biography was extracted from Lest We Forget, a family history written in 1983 and 1984 by Lucille “Tippy” Rebecca Kyle Harr, and updated in 2010 by Debra Harr.

Harold came into my [Tippy] life early, although I don’t remember it. He helped Dad [Lester Kyle] in his restaurant in South Petersburg when he was 17, I was 2.

Harold was a son of Grace Hiser. He must have been sworn as he was known by his father’s last name—Yokum.

The story goes that Grace Hiser was courting this young man, Grant Yokum, and was planning to marry him when he got pneumonia and died before the “I do’s” were said. I understand he looked exactly like his dad.

His grandmother, Mary Jane Hiser, reared him and it was only after he was a young man that he stayed with his mother in Cumberland, Maryland.

Mrs. Hiser, Harold’s grandmother, was the wife of Jonathan Hiser. She was the local midwife and delivered me and is also the grandmother of Gail Snyder, Carmen Huffman Le Fevre, and others.

Harold was shifted around from pillar to post, and when he went to Cumberland, Maryland, to find a job he had difficulty. Being short of structure and proud he went to Kelly Springfield Tire Company wearing long stockings, and looking very young. Officials told him to ‘grow up and come back.’ He went home, changed stockings, put on a tie, went back and got a job. He stayed with that job until he passed away January 2, 1961.

He was a member of the Masonic Lodge.

He courted Hester when she was at Hopemont and married her December 31, 1938.

They went to housekeeping in an apartment rented by Mrs. Satterfield on Park Street in Cumberland, and lived there until they bought and built their first and only home on Route 219, at Short Gap. When Harold lived it was always well kept, snow white, green shutters, two bedroom bungalow. A friend, Y. W. King, loaned him money for the home. Land was bought from Ephriam K. Blaugh.

Harold, by all standards, was a super husband. Hester had the best of clothes, always a box of candy, the finest of magazines. Harold always wore a white shirt and tie, and drove new cars. They had no children, but were generous to others—like mine.

He smoked but seldom had a drink. He was proud of Hester, protected her and loved her. He suffered a stroke in 1957. He recovered somewhat and returned to work. After the stroke he worked but couldn’t recall Hester’s name. Could drive but couldn’t recall the kind of his car. Thank goodness he functioned perfectly at work and independently.

At Christmas, 1960, our family went to Denver, Colorado, to see Gotha and family. On our return on January 2, 1961, around 5 o’clock, we got word from Memorial Hospital, Cumberland, Maryland, at Hester’s request, that Harold had suffered a heart attack at home while watching the Rose Bowl game, and died.

Hester accompanied Harold’s body from Memorial Hospital to Scarpelli’s Funeral Home.

Scarpelli’s had 5 other bodies over this holiday season and the funeral was at 9 a.m. In a wild goose chase from Cumberland to Petersburg, the trip taking about an hour or so, he was buried on that cold January day at Maple Hill Cemetery.

The casket was opened upon request from Lester and Minnie Heltzel, an aunt and uncle.

I had 21 family and friends for lunch that day.

Harold was 53.