Jennie Eva Hughes

July 20, 1879—August 19, 1939

Although she would spend her adult years performing the mundane tasks of raising four children, Jennie Eva Hughes was a remarkable woman for her time. Born July 20, 1879 (?), in Washington, D.C., she most likely was the child of emancipated slaves. (At this writing, information about her parents has not been gathered.) Her family migrated west, and she graduated from Moscow (Idaho) High School in 1895. She went on to the University of Idaho, where she studied Latin, economics, astronomy and literature, graduating in 1899 with a bachelor’s degree in science. There were 20 people in her class when she started; she was one of the seven who remained to graduate four years later. Her photo on this page suggests a quiet, pensive, gentle black woman who was liked by her classmates and respected for her oratory.

The world view of Jennie’s class was different than ours, but in many ways the same. They could look back on a century of change:

"No century whose records illuminate the pages of history has ever given so much to humanity," extolled Jennie’s classmate, Glenn P. McKinley, winner of the Watkins gold medal for oratory that spring. McKinley noted that the century had witnessed introduction of the telegraph, steamship, railroad, "the perfect postal system," air condensed to a liquid so cold that ice will boil it, the x-ray, the telephone, and the recorded voices "of those who sleep the sleep of eternity." There had been reforms such as the end of slavery "in every clime" and greater democracy in Germany and England. However, one evil remained to be dealt with – the concept that "might makes right" and the strong may rule the weak."

Glen McKinley may have won the oratory award that year, but it was up to Jennie to write the Senior Class message on the front page of The University Argonaut for June 1899:

The Senior Class

The work of the Senior Class is rapidly drawing to a close. In a few days with deep regret we will bid the teachers, the dear old halls and each other a long farewell. Most of us, I think, will fully realize, a few months hence at least, the meaning of the word, "Commencement." It means not only that we have concluded four years of pleasant association with each other and with our teachers; and that in spite of failures, in spite of many apparently insurmountable obstacles, we have reached the longed-for goal; it has a far wider, a more significant meaning.

It is both an ending and a beginning. Our school days are over and we leave the rather narrow boundaries of our alma mater, the old college halls, but we step out into the great theatre of life, for "All the World’s a stage and All the men and women merely players."

Knowing from the experience gained during our school life, that we will succeed or fail, only in so far as we apply ourselves to the task in hand and the cheerfulness with which we overcome every barrier.

Some probably will occupy positions of honor in our own state; where innumerable advantages are offered; others will hold more humble positions, but whatever their environment, into whatever sphere of activity they are placed, the class of ’99 will occupy positions of usefulness.

The enrollment of the Freshman class of the U. of I. in 1895 numbered twenty members; of this number only six or seven were residents of Moscow, the others were from the Coeur d’ Alenes, Lewiston, and the southern part of the state.

That first year of our college life was the high-water mark in the history of the class, for the next year brought less than half the original number, while the succeeding year dealt yet more hardly with us, and forced us to give up from our already reduced ranks, two of our brightest and most intelligent classmates to the horrors of war and the mercies of a strange people on foreign shores.

The Senior class, as it now stands, is modest both in numbers and in demands. There are only seven of us and we ask for neither commendations nor criticism but for the kindly sympathy of our fellow students, the good advice of our elders and for an opportunity for a field of action into which we may put into practice, the precepts, the principles, the theories of correct action learned during our school days; and believing firmly in the old adage, "Where there’s a will there’s a way," we hope to reflect credit not only on our Alma Mater but on those who have so patiently assisted us on our tedious journey of securing a college training.

--Miss Jennie Eva Hughes

Later in that issue of the Argonaut a writer noted that Jennie delivered the class oration on "Class Day" at the University: "Miss Hughes had proven herself a competent orator prior to class day, having won the Watkin’s medal, but she captivated everyone Tuesday with her excellently delivered oration."

The following October, Jennie was living in Wardner Idaho, according to that month’s edition of the Argonaut. So far we do not know when she married George Agustus Smith, but her first child, Ralph Donald Smith, was born April 4, 1911. He would marry Erla Adella Inks, daughter of George Alvin Inks, one of 13 children of Andrew Inks.

The "cameo" photo of Jennie below, taken in the Erickson studio in Moscow, may have been shot when she was in college, although she appears to be older. The figure of Jennie with scroll and flowers was taken May 26, 1895 in Moscow. She was in her graduation suit (obviously high school, by the date).

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