GatheringGardiners

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GatheringGardiners

To view or purchase any of the above books feel free to email me.

This site is dedicated to gathering the family histories of Gardiners, Scholls, Bachmans,

Stewarts, Browns, Jones, Krokshes etc. Created and maintained by Kent Gardiner

Cick on the words or faces to see that persons page.

Corrections or additions? Please email me.

Pages of Interest
(Click to see)

Atholl land of the Stewarts

Current Events in Pictures
Charles Hulet - Pioneer
Favorite Videos

Gardiner Quiz

Gardiner Quiz 2
Gardiners in Nauvoo
Happy Birthday Videos
How can I help?
Latest News in Gardiner Family History
Leo's Journal
Links to Sites With Gardiner Info.
Logierait
Name That Family Picture Quiz
Revolutionary War Vet
Recipe Collection
Robert and Margaret 2011 Reunion
Sylvester Hulet Pioneer

Valencia Family History Fair Notes
What's available?
1962 Hulet Newsletter

Kent

James Gardiner------Elaine Scholl

Frederick Gardiner--------Hope Gardiner-------George Scholl----------Emma Bachman

Robert Gardiner-Margaret Stewart-Sylvanus Hulet-Mary Dalley-Frederick Scholl-Fanny Weinert-Jacob Bachman-Anna Sidler

James-Ann-Robert-Elizabeth-Sylvanus-Catherine-James-Petrine-Philip-Elizabeth-August-Fredericka-Hans-Elisabeth-Jacob-Annie

........................................

David-Barbara

James and Ann with their youngest 5 children, rear left to right, Frederick and Matilda
Front left to right, Arthur, Alfred and Ralph abt 1864

James Gardiner 1808 - 1878
Ann Gall 1817 - 1886

Jane Gardiner 1838 - 1869
James Gardiner b 1840
Richard Gardiner 1842 1848
Annie Gardiner 1843 - 1847
Robert Gardiner 1945 - 1927
Richard Gardiner (2) 1848 - 1850
Matilda Gardiner 1850 - 1930 m. John Gunn
Frederick Gardiner 1852
Ralph Gardiner 1855 - 1949

Alfred Gardiner 1858 - 1932 Donald Gardiner (son)Art Gardiner

Arthur Gardiner 1861 - 1945

Robert and Margaret, rear left to right, Charles Stewart, Clarence Leroy, Frederick
(Margaret was married and not included)
front left to right Robert, Eva Winifred, Margaret Stewart, Beatrice Lenore and William Frances abt 1896

Robert Gardiner 1845 - 1927
Margaret Stewart 1849 - 1917

Robert Stewart Gardiner 1869 - 1871 (died in infancy)
Margaret Amelia Gardiner 1872 - 1950
Violet Ann Gardiner 1874 - 1978 (died in infancy)
William Francis Gardiner 1876 - 1907 (died at 31) Mary Ellen Boylin
Frederick Gardiner 1879 - 1960
Clarence Leroy Gardiner 1881 - 1969
Eva Winifred Gardiner 1883 - 1969
Charles Stewart Gardiner 1885 - 1960
Adeline Maude Gardiner 1889 - 1990 (died in infancy)
Beatrice Lenore Gardiner 1891 - 1932

L to R Top row: Fannie, John, Charles, Minnie, Jane or Jennie

Seated: Louise or Louisa, Fredericka, August, Anna or Annie

August Weinert 24 Jan 1826 - 12 Mar 1898

Fredericka Vander Schaaff 1831 - 1 Aug 1906

1. Fanny Weinert 15 May 1853, Buffalo, Erie, NY - 1 Jun 1922, Portland, Or
2. Jennie Weinert (Jane) 31 Jan 1855 Toronto, Canada - 31 Oct 1942
3. Anna Weinert 1857 Falls City, Richardson NB, - 1935
4. John Weinert 4 Nov 1859 - 17 Oct 1925
5. Charles Weinert 7 Sep 1861 - 14 Aug 1941
6. Minnie Weinert 16 May 1865 - 28 Feb 1946
7. August Weinert Mar 1867 - Sep 1932
8. Louise Weinert 9 Jan 1873 - 31 Oct 1957

James Gardiner

Robert Gardiner.....................

Ann Gall

Frederick Gardiner.............

Robert Stewart

Margaret Stewart..................

Elizabeth Stewart

James Hulet Gardiner

Sylvanus Hulet

Charles Hulet................
Mary Lewis

Sylvanus Hulet Sr.....

Johan Mathias Noah

Margaret Noah.............

Elizabeth Schmidt

Sylvanus Hulet Jr................................

David Stoker................

Catherine Stoker

John Graybill

Barbara Graybill.........
Christina Wampler

HHHope Hulet.............

James Dalley

Mary Dalley................................

Neils Pedersen Bertelsen

Frederick Scholl..........................

Elizabeth Kelch

George Scholl................

August Weinert

Fanny Weinert..............................

Jan Jans Vander Schaaff

Fredericka VanDer Schaeff

Elaine Scholl

Hans Bachman

Jacob Bachman.............................

Elizabeth Aerny

Emma Bachman..........

Jacob Agage

Anna Sidler Hegetschschweiler....

Annie Weiler

Emma's father Jacob Bachman had a brother named Hans Rudolf Bachman. They both joined the church and Jacob came to Utah while Hans stayed in Switzerland. Here is the Swiss part of the Bachman family (Spelled Bachmann in Switzerland)

Werner Bachmann (b 1908 - 1965) began the family business:

They used to run tours:

They now own a major trucking company in Europe:

This is not a small company:

Much to my delight, someone has made neat little models of the Bachmann rolling stock:

Harold Leland Brown 1928

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Harold Leland Brown was born in 1928, fourth of five children born to Harold and Mary Brown. For a time he worked for the El Paso Natural Gas Company. He was also a teacher in Bakersfield and Arizona and some say he was a favorite with the children he taught. He was married to Norine Lone Marshall and later to Marie Kelly, 1954. (She was previously married to Bill Coats) He battled alcohol his entire life. He worked with the scouts and was a Sunday School President in the LDS church. His nieces remember him as warm, charming and handsome. He died at 43.

Louise Brown Barrett 1925 -

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LLo

Louise Brown was born on July 26th, 1925 in Mesa, Arizona. She was born to Mary Young and Harold Brown and was the third of five children. She grew up on the family farm. She did well in elementary school and skipped a grade. Then she attended Tempe Union High School and graduated in 1942. The same year she began her studies at BYU taking general studies, music, and languages.

Louise was very close to her Grandmother, Mary Halls on her father's side of the family. She suffered from bouts of paranoia and depression throughout her life which created challenges for those who knew her and were related to her. She was raised in the Mormon church but after marriage to Howard Charles Barrett in 1947 she investigated other Christian religions including the Catholic church. She remained a devout Christian throughout her life. Louise loved books about religion and music as well as authors as diverse as James Michener and JRR Tolkien. She played the violin and the piano throughout her life. She was a devoted opera fan, listening to the Metropolitan Opera every Saturday on the radio at full volume. She continued her education later in life at Glendale Community College.

She had seven children, two of whom were stillborn twins who were born after her first child was born. Her living children are Justine Cheney ( Gary, deceased in 2010), Francene Beeny (Mark), Howard Barrett, Nannette Lindsey (Danny) and Suzette Barrett. She had 5 grandchildren and 2 great grandchildren.

Her husband Howard predeceased her in August 1990. They were married on September 27, 1947. They were married for 43 years. Louise retired to Sun City Arizona and remained until her death in February 2002. She enjoyed living in Sun City very much and was involved in many social and church activities involving bible study.

Robert Lewis Brown 1923 - 2003

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Robert Lewis Brown was a mechanic in Missouri for many years and later moved to San Marino, CA Robert served in the Navy like his younger brother during WWII. He married Rose Ann, a very nice lady who eventually contracted rheumatoid arthritis and died. Then Bob became active in the LDS church. He had a great sense of humor and is remembered with fondness for his wit and charm.

Uncle Bob and Aunt Ann lived in Moreno Valley--not far from Riverside-- for a number of years. I know my dad ( James Brown) really appreciated how the ward there helped Bob after Ann's death. As soon as my father heard of his sister-in-law's passing, he notified their Bishop. The Priesthood brethren and Relief Society sisters not only assisted with with the funeral arrangements, they welcomed Bob back into full fellowship in the Church. With their encouragement, Bob set (and achieved) a goal to go to the Temple and be sealed to his wife. Uncle Bob remained in the area until his health deteriorated, then he moved to Texas to stay with his daughter. I assume that Ann is buried in the Riverside Cemetery--they probably have a double plot.

Two child:

Robert Jr

Beverly Smith

Robert as a toddler with his older brother James Brown about 1924.

Cleone Floyd Brown 1930 - 1989

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Cleone Floyd Brown liked his middle name more than his given name so later in life he had it changed his name to Floyd Cleone Brown. However most people called him Tony.

"He was a very serious alcoholic like his father. His sister Louise was very sympathetic to him when speaking about him. I don't think he ever came to Louise's house. Since he was the baby, Louise took care of him as his mother, Mary Brown was never at home. She was always at church." Family member

He served in the United States Navy during WW II. He was married three times to the following women:

1. Betty Mallet
2. Betty Phylis Prince (had two boys from a previous
marriage with Kenneth Ronnal) ( She and her sons were LDS.)
3. Louise Ann Bremmer who had lots of hair

Cleone was a truck driver, smoked, struggled with alcohol, was slender and died from a heart attack at 59 on the I-40 at the near Bullhead City. His sister remembers that he died under his truck indicating that perhaps it had broken down and he was working on it at the time he died. . The Mojave Sheriff's office sent his personal effects to his brother James Brown. They are listed at the bottom of this page.

"Foyd was single at the time of his death. He and his third wife had a child together, a girl. I believe her name was Jennifer--she wasn't very old when her parents separated. When I was a small child our family called him Uncle Cleone, later we referred to him as Uncle Floyd. Tony was a nickname Floyd had for a long time, but I don't know how he got it or where it came from." Niece

He died intestate:

Intestacy is the condition of the estate of a person who dies owning property greater than the sum of their enforceable debts and funeral expenses without having made a valid will or other binding declaration; alternatively where such a will or declaration has been made, but only applies to part of the estate, the remaining estate forms the "Intestate Estate."

Cleone is bottom right in this family photo of the Harold and Mary Brown familiy.

1969 Teamster Card

Betty Brown identity card

1938 or 39 Family Portriat, Cleone is bottom right

back of card

Cleone is top left

1948 Navy Discharge

1989 Death Certificate

Ann Louise and her two boys, Thomas and Jason, from a previous marriage.

Relative: I have a postcard my Grandmother Brown sent me in 1973. I'd asked her for info on Uncle Floyd's new wife. This is what Mary Brown wrote:

"Dear Christie Floyd's wife (not sure of maiden name) Ann Louise Brown born 12 Nov 1948 ? in Seattle Washington married 24 Nov 1972 ? Where?
Children Thomas John born 27 Nov 1970 Phoenix Jason Daniel 23 Aug 1972 Bellingham Washington
I sent your letter to her Grandmother"

Apparently the two little boys in the picture were Floyd's stepsons, Thomas and Jason.

Letter from Ann Bremmer:

1976 Letter to James Brown from Ann Brown, Cleone's wife.

He is buried at:

7900 East Main Street
Mesa, AZ 85207-8948

Mary A. Pritchett

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Mary A. Pritchett

HISTORY OF MARY ANN FULCHER PRITCHETT--SHE CAME TO UTAH IN THE SPRING OF 1866

WRITTEN BY HER GRANDDAUGHTER FRANCES CHRISTOPHERSON. SARAH YEAMAN CAMP, CASSIA COUNTY COMPANY

Sketch of Mary A. Pritchett's Life

Mary A. Pritchett was born July 4, 1819 in North Carolina. At the age of two years she moved to Virginia, where she resided until she immigrated to Utah. At the age of twenty she was married to James Mitchell Pritchett by whom she had nine children, eight of which grew to maturity.

The Gospel was brought to her by elders Jediah Grant, Josiah Grant, James Park and Hamilton. After receiving the gospel herself, her greatest desire was that the hearts of her children be touched and that they may all gather to Zion with her.

Her husband was enabled to disposed of his property to prepare for the journey, and in the autumn of 1864, she started to Ohio where she was to meet her husband two moths later at Portsmouth. Their outfit was an excellent one for that age, well laden with excellent food, clothing and bedding. But they had proceeded but about 75 miles on their journey when a band of gorillas relieved them of their horses, so now they had to leave everything by the roadside and travel on foot to Burnswick, Ohio, a distance of about 200 miles. Here they took a steam ship to Portsmouth where she met her husband and afterwards took passage for St. Louis.

In the spring of 1866 they prepared to cross the plains with a company of saints. Her history from that time on became the history of the saints so well known to all. Fairview was their final stopping place and their home has been in that ward ever since.

On June 14, 1868, the Relief Society was first organized, and she was chosen president, which responsible position she held with pride up to the day of her death, which occured March 5, 1901.

As we review her life, we wonder if there are many who preformed so many blessed deeds of charity as she. She was ever at the bedside of the sick. Her motherly chair and counsel were never asked in vain by man, woman or child. And the needy were never refused assistance when they applied to her.

Spinning and weaving never oppressed her so much that she had not time to attend her religious duties. She always had a desire to die in the harness, and her desire was granted her. During the last two months of her illness, the responsibility of the Society rested on her mind so much that she did not forget to send in her membership fee of 10 cents with the request if she died or lived that it be devoted at the proper time, March 17th.

Her influential and useful life closed March 5, 1901. All Fairview lost a mother when Grandma Pritchett died.

As received from JoAn Pritchett Blodgett.

James Mitchell Pritchett

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James’s father Samuel Pritchett played the harp. His wife Rebecca said, “Samuel sure did love that old harp.” He called it his “Beauty”and would say, “In a few minutes ‘My Beauty’ will have everyone dancing. It was old when it came from Ireland and hard to get in tune for the strings would get so limp. But Samuel knew how to handle it...”Yes I am musical, too musical, for like love, music gives me a pain in the pit of my stomach,” said Samuel.

Just before James was born his older brother David accidently shot himself in the leg, had it amputated and diedSamuel had talked of going to Texas for some time. Rebeccasaid, “Stay for our little girl’s sake and this baby (James) we will soon shall have, ”Samuel answered, “How do I know this baby is mine? You haven’t been nice to me for some time! Anyway I will go for a while. John can finish his house. He and the boys will help you to see to things. If I don’t find what i want, I will come back. Maybe it is like Nancy saiys, it is our age and later we will enjoy eachother’s love and companionship again. They all thought he would come back but he never did

Rebecca and Samuel’s seventh and last baby was another boy, their fifth son. She named him James Mitchell Pritchett. James was born 1 June 1817 in Washington county, VA.

Rebecca and her sons took a lot of pride in their homes and buildings nd wanted things kept up nd looking good. Whenever land was for sale they bought it. The family got along well with eachother. They were all good workers. All down through the generations they have said, “Anything worth doing at all is worth doing well.”

They were good christians. Sunday was the Lords day. A day to go to churh and worship hm. A day of rest nd study. They prayed and believed in prayer and faith in being healed They were just good humble folks doing and living a good life. They had a great love tor their neighbors, strangers and

relations.”

In 1843, James Mitchell Pritchett was driving home from the village. It was a beautiful day and the planting was done. The fields were getting green. The crops were going to be good. Things had gone well for him and his wife, Mary Ann Fulcher, in the nearly eight years they had been married. Their fourth child had been born 1 July 1843, named Nancy Emeline. Three boys and a girl to bless their home with joy and laughter. He had land, a home and the start a good farmer needs and likes. He also took care of his mother Rebecca’s place on share, for he was her youngest child.

As James (called Jim) drove along reminiscing, he came upon two men walking and said, “Looks like you men are lost. I’m going up the road apiece. Get in. I’ll give you a ride. I’m Jim Pritchett. I live in these parts.” The men reached to shake his hand and introduced themselves as missionaries and Elders of the church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. Elder Pratt and Elder J.B. Lewis, traveling without purse or script, preaching the gospel to all. Stopping at homes where they wished to hear good tidings and the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. The missionaries stayed at the home of Nancy and John’s. The missionaries were welcome. Neighbors and friends came to the meetings held in the home. Many were interested. A Book of Mormon was left with the Pritchett family. The family enjoyed reading it and to think and to reason, to pray and talk upon the old yet new truths it brought forth.

When the missionaries came back, Mary Ann Pritchett, John and Nancy’s third child, was baptized a member of the LDS Church. The first to join in Chatham Hill. James M. Pritchett and his wife, Mary Ann Fulcher Pritchett, were baptized as many other folks in Chatham Hill. There were folks joining the church from all over the southern states. Many were selling out so they could move to Illinois. The mobs were making trouble in Illinois and Joseph Smith and Hyrum Smith were murdered and so much trouble. The Saints were advised in the south to stay where they were for a while.

So a Mormon church was built in Chatham hill, Cove Ridge. James M. Pritchett was ordained a high priest and was over the Branch at cove Ridge. His wife, Mary Ann Pritchett, was over the women, called the Relief Society President. They held these positions until they moved to Utah in 1866, after the War. All children were born in Virginia, and baptized 1843, and the sealing in the Endowment House in 1868 (So came to Utah before 1868)

James was of Scottish descent. The next spring, 1856 when the missionaries came to Chatham hill, grandmother Rebecca was baptized.

All above from: Lest we forget: The Pritchett's history, by Beatrice Pritchett Budvarson, 1989

John Anderson Pritchett and John A. Pritchett: An uncle and his nephew of Chatham Hill, Smyth County, Virginia

In doing research of the Pritchett Family of Chatham Hill, Smyth County, Virgina, there’s been quite a bit of confusion regarding two men, both named John Anderson Pritchett. Hopefully this will set the record straight.

Samuel Pritchett (born 1761) married Rebecca Anderson (born 1776), in Culpepper County, Virginia, on 20 Nov 1793. They had several children, (most in Tazwell or Chatham Hill, Smyth County, Virginia), including:

1) John Anderson Pritchett (born 4 August, 1794; died 16 Nov. 1875, in Tazwell, Virginia; served during 1864-1865 in the Confederate Army). Called "Old John". He and Nancy Hilton Johnston (born 25 Dec 1790; Died: 26 Aug 1855) had 7 children, including:

2) James Mitchell Pritchett (born 1 June, 1817, in Smyth County, Virginia; died 20 January, 1902, in Fairview, Sanpete County, Utah; the family left around 1857 for Kentucky, Missouri & then Utah). He and Mary Ann Fulcher had 10 children, including:

Samuel Napoleon Bonepart Pritchett, born 16 June, 1827 (or 18 Jan*); died 22 Oct. 1870 in Fairview, Sanpete County, Utah. He married Mary Elizabeth (Betty) McIntire, who gave him 2 children before she passed away in August, 1855 in Smyth County, Virginia. He then married Mary Jane Gillespie of Morgan County, Kentucky, who bore him 4 children. One of Samuel’s children by his first marriage was:

John Anderson Pritchett (born 23 Sept. 1840 in Smyth County, VA; 21 Oct. 1920 in Fairview, Utah. He was a Lieutenant in one of the Smyth County Regiments in the Confederate Army during the Civil War; he disapeared in the late spring of 1863, but later met his family when they arrived in Utah (on 31 August, 1864). Called "Young John".

Kittie Evelin Pritchett (Dixon), born 12 December 1851 in Smyth County, Virginia. She passed away in 1924 in Afton, Star Valley, Wyoming. She had:

If you are related to anyone on this page, I would enjoy hearing from you. Pictures are especially appreciated. Please put "Pritchett family" in the subject of your e-mail, and e-mail me at iflk@yahoo.com. (*Most of this information is NOT original research, but comes from the FamilySearch.com Internet site or from the book "Lest We Forget".) You can return to my main page at www.oocities.com/iflk

Kittie Calpurna Dixon (Burton), who was mother of Calpurna Burton (Fluckiger), the grandmother of the webmaster of this page.

James Mitchell PRITCHETT (b. 01 Jun 1817, d. 20 Jan 1902)

James Mitchell PRITCHETT (son of Samuel PRITCHETT and Rebecca ANDERSON) was born 01 Jun 1817 in Smyth Co., VA, and died 20 Jan 1902 in Fairview, Sanpete, UT. He married Mary Ann FULCHER on 18 Sep 1835, daughter of Douglas Jackson FULCHER and Nancy ATWELL.

More About James Mitchell PRITCHETT and Mary Ann FULCHER:
Marriage: 18 Sep 1835

Children of James Mitchell PRITCHETT and Mary Ann FULCHER are:
William David PRITCHETT, b. 28 Jul 1837, Smyth Co., VA, d. 25 Feb 1887.
Leonidas Alfred PRITCHETT, b. 14 Dec 1838, Smyth Co., VA, d. 09 Jun 1888.
John Anderson PRITCHETT, b. 23 Sep 1840, Smyth Co., VA, d. 20 Oct 1920.
Nancy Emily PRITCHETT, b. 01 Jul 1843, Smyth Co., VA, d. 11 Jul 1884.
Thomas Mitchell PRITCHETT, b. 01 May 1845, Smyth Co., VA, d. 11 Sep 1937.
Levi Franklyn PRITCHETT, b. 08 Oct 1847, Smyth Co., VA, d. 25 Sep 1885.
James Decaene PRITCHETT, b. 01 Jul 1849, Smyth Co., VA, d. date unknown.
+Rebecca Emily PRITCHETT, b. 23 Oct 1851, Smyth Co., VA, d. 13 Oct 1930, Fairview, Sanpete, UT.
Douglas Jackson PRITCHETT, b. 10 Oct 1858, d. 21 Apr 1861.

James Mitchell PRITCHETT^1, 2, 3 was born 1 Jun 1817 in , Washington, Virginia. He died 20 Jan 1902 in Fairview, Sanpete, Utah. James married Mary Ann FULCHER on 18 Sep 1836 in , Smyth, Virginia.
Mary Ann FULCHER [Parents]^1, 2, 3 was born 4 Jul 1819 in , Person, North Carolina. She died 5 Mar 1901 in Fairview, Sanpete, Utah. Mary married James Mitchell PRITCHETT on 18 Sep 1836 in , Smyth, Virginia.
They had the following children:

M i William David PRITCHETT^1, 2 was born 28 Jul 1837 in Chatham Hill, Smyth, Virginia. He died 22 Feb 1887 in Fairview, Sanpete, Utah.
M ii Leonidas Alfred PRITCHETT "Leo"^1, 2, 3 was born 14 Dec 1838 in Chatham Hill, Smyth, Virginia. He died 9 Jun 1888 in Eden, Weber, Utah.
M iii John Anderson PRITCHETT^{1, 2, 3, 4} was born 23 Sep 1840 in Chatham Hill, Smyth, Virginia. He died 21 Oct 1920 in Fairview, Sanpete, Utah.
F iv Nancy Emeline PRITCHETT was born 1 Jul 1842 and died 11 Jul 1884.
M v Thomas Mitchell PRITCHETT^1, 2, 3 was born 1 May 1845 in Chatham Hill, Smyth, Virginia. He died 11 Sep 1932 in Hurricane, Washington, Utah.
M vi Levi Franklin PRITCHETT^1, 2, 3 was born 8 Oct 1847 in Chatham Hill, Smyth, Virginia. He died 25 Sep 1883 in Mt. Pleasant, Sanpete, Utah.
M vii James Dekalb PRITCHETT^1, 2, 3 was born 7 Jul 1849 in Chatham Hill, Smyth, Virginia. He died 28 Nov 1914 in Mesa, Maricopa, Arizona.
F viii Rebecca Emily PRITCHETT^1, 2 was born 23 Oct 1852 in Chatham Hill, Smyth, Virginia. She died 13 Oct 1930 in Fairview, Sanpete, Utah.
M ix
Douglas Jackson PRITCHETT^1, 2 was born 10 Dec 1858 in Chatham Hill, Smyth, Virginia. He died 21 Apr 1861 in Fairview, Sanpete, Utah.

Pritchett Info

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Pritchett and Johnson / Johnston Family of Smyth County, Virginia and Weber and Sanpete counties in Utah

This page shows my relationship to the Pritchett and Johnson or Johnston family from Chatham Hill, Smyth County, Virginia and Tazwell County, Virginia, some of whom converted to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Mormons) in approximately 1857, and moved to Weber and Sanpete counties in Utah. My relatives are in the larger type below. Much of the information came from an excellent book, "Lest We Forget", a history of the Pritchett family. If you are related to this family, I would enjoy hearing from you. I am especially interested in any old family photos! Please e-mail me at
iflk@yahoo.com

The following information was gathered from a much larger Johnson, Johnston and Pritchett family page (now offline), found at: http://www.rootsweb.com/~kyrockca/Johnson.htm

============================

The following excerpt is from the web site "Descendants of William Johnson" mentioned above, which unfortunately seems not to be working (Dec., 2003):

Generation No. 1

1. WILLIAM JOHNSON (1) was born 1767 in England, and died in VA.. He married NANCY HILTON (SCARR) 1790 in VA.

Notes for WILLIAM JOHNSON: The name Johnson "Johnston" is common in all parts of the British Isles. Family tradition says that our family was Scotch-Irish, and indeed the names of the children of George W. Johnson, born 1793, would indicate Scottish origins. One son was named Calvin, no doubt after John Calvin, from whose teachings the Scotch Presbyterian religion is derived. Another son was named Campbell Johnson, and Campell is a distinctly Scottish name.

There is a persistent tradition in the Johnson "Johnston" family, which has been heard from aunts and uncles at verious generations. It goes something like this: "A Johnson ancestor lost his family in a war, possibly the Revolution. He was a young boy at the time and lived a foster home. He took his foster parents name, which was Johnson."

As the records show, the first known residence of our Johnson or Johnston family was in Washington Co., VA. In 1832 the new county of Smyth was formed, partly from Washington County. The Johnson home was located in the part of Washington County which became Smyth. By 1850 George W. Johnson had moved on down to Scott County, VA.

"William John Albert, who changed surname from Albert to Johnson, pressed into the English army, age 15, on arrival in America, deserted the English army and joined the American cause, was of PA, and Rockingham Co., VA md Nancy (prob. Hilton) Scarr, widow of James Scarr" [Virkus, The Compendium of American Genealogy, Vol 4 (1930), pg 784; ancestor of Lois Johnston]. You will note the spelling of Johnson changes to Johnston with different persons.

More About WILLIAM JOHNSON: Fact 1: 1782, Arrived America or about that time frame.

Children of WILLIAM (ALBERT) JOHNSON and NANCY HILTON (SCARR) are:

2. i. NANCY HILTON JOHNSTON (2), b. December 25, 1790, Washington Co., VA; d. August 26, 1855, Chatham Hill, Smyth Co., VA.

3. ii. GEORGE WASHINGTON JOHNSON, b. 1793, VA; d. May 08, 1870, Brodhead, Rockcastle CO., KY.

4. iii. BENJAMIN ALBERT JOHNSON, b. May 05, 1795, Washington Co., VA; d. January 07, 1881, Santa Fe, Monroe Co., MO. bur: South Fork Cem..

Generation No. 2

2. NANCY HILTON JOHNSON (2) was born December 25, 1790 in Washington Co., VA, and died August 26, 1855 in Chatham Hill, Smyth Co., VA. She married JOHN ANDERSON PRITCHETT (born 4 Aug 1794, Rockbridge, Virginia; died 16 Nov 1875, buried 18 Nov 1875, Tazewell, Virginia) (click here for an outside link to his family tree) (NOTE: you'll have to click the back button to return to this page). Married about June, 1815 in VA.
(Note: After Nancy Johnston Pritchett died, JOHN ANDERSON PRITCHETT married Nancy Jane Debord in Tazwell Co., VA, August 1860).
NOTE: John Anderson PRITCHETT's brother James had a son who was also named John Anderson Pritchett. Please see this web site for a clarification: John Anderson Pritchett and John A. Pritchett: an Uncle and his Nephew

Children of NANCY JOHNSON and JOHN ANDERSON PRITCHETT are:

i. ELIZA ANN PRITCHETT, b. August 27, 1817, Tazewell Co., VA; d. April 14, 1897, VA; m. COLMAN JOLPEN.

5. ii. SUSANNA JANE PRITCHETT, b. November 12, 1818, Tazewell Co., VA (Chatham Hill., Smyth Co., VA.); d. April 18, 1904, Fairview, Sanpete Co., UT.

6. iii. WILLIAM DEKALB PRITCHETT, b. March 03, 1824, Tazewell Co., VA; d. December 29, 1885, Ogden, Weber Co., UT. (NOTE: John Anderson Pritchett also had a brother, William Decalbe or Dekalb Pritchett, who evidently stayed in Virginia).

7. iv. SAMUEL NAPOLEON BONAPARTE PRITCHETT (3), b. January 16, 1827, Tazewell Co. (Smyth Co.), VA; d. October 22, 1870, Fairview, Sanpete Co., UT.

8. v. SARAH BRYANT PRITCHETT, b. March 21, 1829, Tazewell Co., VA (Smyth CO., VA); d. January 08, 1906, Farr West, Weber Co., UT..

vi. NANCY EMELINE PRITCHETT, b. May 18, 1832, Smyth Co., VA; d. January 09, 1882; m. ELISA THOMPSON PRATT, April 03, 1850, Scott CO., VA.

9. vii. MARY ANN PRITCHETT, b. October 31, 1821, Tazewell Co., VA ( Smyth CO., VA); d. October 05, 1879, VA.

(Note: It appears that all of these children immigrated to Utah, either to Weber or Sanpete counties. William Pritchett is listed on the Perpetual Immigration Fund registers of 1866; one of his children was born in 1860 in Missouri. Samuel Napoleon Pritchett married a Mary Jane Gillispie in 1855; one of their children was born in 1860 in Missouri, another in 1863 in Missouri, and another in August, 1865 in Utah.

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Generation No. 3

7. SAMUEL NAPOLEON BONAPARTE PRITCHETT (3) was born January 16, 1827 in Tazewell Co., (later Smyth County) VA, and died October 22, 1870 in Fairview, Sanpete Co., UT. He married (1) MARY ELIZABETH MCENTIRE or MCINTIRE December 21, 1850 in Marion, Smyth Co., VA. He married (2) MARY JANE GILLISPIE in Morgan County, Kentucky.FONT SIZE=2>

One child of SAMUEL PRITCHETT and MARY MCENTIRE is:

i. KITTIE EVELYN PRITCHETT (4), b. December 21, 1851, Marion, Smyth Co., VA; d. July 1924, Afton, Lincoln Co., WY,; m. HARVEY DIXON, SR., March 07, 1870, Salt Lake City, Salt Lake Co., UT..

Notes for HARVEY DIXON, SR.: Harvey Sr. had two wives, the other was Susan Elizabeth Harmon. DOM 3-06-1876 Salt Lake City, Salt Lake Co., UT. He and Susan also had a number of children.

Another website I've found regarding Harvey Dixon (and, on this web site, you can go back to notes about Harvey, his mother Sabra Lake, and further back) is at this web site

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From this point forward, the following information is based on personal knowledge and the records listed on www.familysearch.org

Generation No. 4

KITTIE EVELYN PRITCHETT (4), b. December 21, 1851, Marion, Smyth Co., VA; d. July 1924, Afton, Lincoln Co., WY,; married HARVEY DIXON, SR., March 07, 1870, Salt Lake City, Salt Lake Co., UT. They had 9 children, the oldest of which was:

Generation No. 5

Kittie Calpurnia DIXON (5) (AFN: 1WX3-D8), Birth: 17 Jan 1877 Clifton, Oneida Co., Id; Death: 26 Apr 1933 Afton, Lincoln Co., Wy. Married Arthur Fielding BURTON on 10 Oct 1894 in Salt Lake City, Salt Lake Co.They had 11 children, including my grandmother:

Generation No. 6

Calpurnia BURTON (6) (AFN: 614K-F8), born 29 Aug 1900 Afton, Lincoln, Wy; died 11 Jun 1978 St. George, Washington, Ut; married Lyman Wilford FLUCKIGER (AFN:5CF9-SM) on 5 Jun 1924 in Salt Lake City, Salt Lake, Utah. They had 4 children, including my father:

Generation No. 8

Lyman Burton FLUCKIGER (7), married Valene BRADSHAW; they had 7 children, of which I am the oldest. You may contact me at iflk@yahoo.com

KITTIE EVALINE PRITCHETT DIXON: A Mormon Pioneer Saga from Smyth County, Virginia to Sanpete County, Utah, to Clifton, Idaho, to Star Valley, Wyoming, to Hagerman, Idaho

The following biographies, autobiographies and pictures of Kittie Evaline Pritchett Dixon include:
A brief biography of Kittie Pritchett Dixon by her granddaughter Calpurna Burton Fluckiger
An extensive autobiography, "HISTORICAL DATA", written in about 1902 by Kittie Pritchett Dixon
A biography, KITTIE EVALINE PRITCHETT DIXON, by Kittie’s daughter Alice Lee Burton
Photo of Kittie and Harvey Dixon (taken from a book by Robert Boyd Jackson, (c)1983)
Photos of Kittie and Harvey Dixon’s cemetary markers in Hagerman, Idaho
Harvey Dixon (1844-1906) married in 1870 Kittie Pritchett Dixon (1851-1924)

BIOGRAPHY OF

KITTIE EVALINE PRITCHETT DIXON

Kittie Evaline Pritchett was the eldest daughter of Samuel Napoleon Bonaparte Pritchett and Mary Elizabeth McEntire. She was born at Smith County, Virginia, December 12, 1851.

When Kittie was four years of age her mother and sister Eunice died, leaving her to care for her father and her grandparents, John Alexander McEntire and Elizabeth Morning Dean.

While Kittie was still young, her father and grandparents became members of the church and migrated to Utah.

Note: Here we insert an account, taken from another imigration story, about Kittie's trip to Utah.
A story told by Kittie Evelyne Pritchett Dixon, copied from an account written of Elizabeth Letitia Higganbotham Perry in which the incident appeared.
Kittie Evelyne Pritchett Dixon came to Utah in this company and was the niece of the Captain William Pritchett, Great-Grandfather's (Samuel Napoleon Bonepart Pritchett) brother. The Susan Pritchett mentioned was the cousin and daughter of Captain Pritchett.

"Our journey westward was started on the fourth day of June, 1864, with William Pritchett active in the capacity of captain of the company. Fort Kearney in Nebraska was the western outpost and our last civilized settlement. Facing west we started over the "Old Mormon Trail”. One member of our company, through lack of understanding of the habits of Indians, exercised unwise discretion which almost resulted in a tragedy. Two Indians came into camp and this immigrant, jokingly asked them if they wanted to buy beautiful black-eyed Susan Pritchett. The redskins agreed to give two ponies for her and left camp to get them. A freighter nearby warned us that the Redskins were in earnest. Susan became terrified and concealed herself in one of the wagons. The Indians soon returned and Captain Pritchett attempted an explanation, but it was not accepted, the Indians leaving in a rage. Everyone realized that there was trouble ahead.
The succeeding two days were filled with apprehension for the travelers. They were fired on in their camp; their cattle were stampeded by Indians, some of the men were struck with barbed arrows and much physical suffering resulted. The Indians, in order to protect themselves while harassing our people, would hang over the sides of their horses. Our main defense was the large number of freighters traveling with us, but for two weeks we had no feeling of security. One day 300 Indians attired for war swooped down upon us. Captain Pritchett ordered our wagons formed into a corral with the cattle and horses inside. Our tension was relieved however, when we saw one of the warriors approached, displaying a white flag, which indicated to us a truce. We all had a prayer of gratitude in our hearts as we watched them depart.
We arrived in “The Salt Lake Valley” Aug 1,1864 and camped on Emigration Creek for a few days.
*This story was copied from the scrapbook of Alice Dixon Lee Burton in 1939, by Calpurna Burton Fluckiger, granddaughter of Kittie Pritchett Dixon. The biography continues:

Upon arrival here Kittie accompanied her father to Sanpete County where he established his home. Her grandparents located in Harrisville.

As Kittie grew into young womanhood, she frequently came north to visit her grandparents and their family. She was charming and attractive with heavy black hair, large dark eyes and a beautiful complexion. He voice was musical and sweet with a slight southern accent. She was loved and admired by both old and young who looked forward eagerly each year to her visits.

An increasing interest and affection developed between Kittie and Harvey Dixon (click for a website about him). They were married March 7, 1870.

Harvey built his home beside that of his brother Henry near their father’s home. Here they began their new life in comfort, surrounded by relatives and friends. Here also their first child Mary Elizabeth was born, but lived only a few hours. Another daughter, Alice Evaline, came to them later, bringing joy and comfort.

Harvey, his brother Henry, Uncle George Lake and others had engaged in stock raising. As their herds increased in numbers they felt the necessity of expansion and better grazing pastures. Since the barren wastes of the Great Salt Lake region forbade any western movement, they began to move northward, finally locating and founding the present villages of Oxford and Clifton in southern Idaho. This move was a trying one for Kittie. She loved close friends and neighbors, and her southern hospitable nature craved companionship and activity. Into this barren sagebrush plain these sturdy pioneers brought the same courage, fortitude and perseverence that had characterized their earlier lives in Utah.

Harvey opened a sand quarry, built a saw mill and began to build a new home and to develop the land. Kittie watched with interest and concern the establishment of this new era in their lives.A son, Harvey Dixon, Jr. was born in the summer of 1874. Into the new home was woven dreams for the comfort, well being and happiness of her family.

The little town of Clifton grew rapidly bringing a need for school, church and community life. Harvey and Kittie chose a more desirable location and built a large, more substantial home close in the village, keeping the old home as a ranch house. Orchards, shade trees, gardens and close neighbors gave Kittie renewed interest and happiness. Beyond the village stretched the rich grain fields and grazing pastures. They prospered and life seemed good.

Kittie was always a leader in church and social activities and share the popularity of Harvey in his duties as Bishop of the ward and civic leader. She was a splendid housekeeper. Sewing, weaving, quilting kept her household supplies in stock and in the dairy butter, cheese, and fruit filled the shelves. Her ability as a homemaker brought comfort, cheer and happiness to her husband, children and friends. Here at Clifton four more children were born to Harvey and Kittie, making a family of six, three boys and three girls.When Harvey’s activities convinced her that it would be wise to again move northward, Kittie accepted the decision with the same courage and fortitude that had always characterized her life. Like Ruth of old, she sacrificed her own interests and gave to others her allegiance, support and loyalty.

In 1885 Kittie and her family accompanied Harvey into Wyoming and established a home in the beautiful Star Valley. This was a splendid grazing country for cattle where they quickly developed on the rich green feed and were early ready for market. The summers were delightfully cool and pleasant, but the winters were long and severe with heavy snow for many months. The soil was rich and fertile but too frequently the early gardens and grain crops were destroyed by a late frost or harvest delayed by early severe frost in the autumn. Life was rugged, but the children were healthy and grew rapidly. Two more children, a boy and a girl were born here at Afton.

Fifteen years passed. The older children were maturing and making their own homes here in the valley. Kittie and Harvey began to grow weary of the strenuous life and to long for a location in a more moderate climate. Harvey made a tour of inspection into the Snake River Valley on the Pacific slope, choosing a homesite in the beautiful Hagerman Valley. Here he moved his family in 1900.

The scenery was beautiful, the soil fertile, the hills green. The climate was mild and to the great delight of the children there was no snow to be shoveled away and paths broken in the early mornings. A new era seemed to be opening and life ahead looked peaceful. Harvey found time for more active church duties and became Presiding Elder of the Fir Grove Branch of the Cassia Stake. Kittie found interest in the establishment of a new home for her family. But sorrow came to them in the death of their young son, Samuel Wilkinson in Bliss at the age of 15 and again in the death of their youngest child, Elsa May Dixon at the age of 13. During one winter Kittie took her children to Logan where they might enjoy the advantages of better schools and college.

In the summer of 1906, Harvey was stricken with a serious illness. He passed away at their home in Bliss, July 6, 1906.

As the years passed and her children left for their own homes, Kittie became lonely and gave up her home in Bliss. She found comfort and companionship in the homes of her children, sharing with them her vast knowledge of child life and homemaking. She carried into each home a spiritual uplift and found among her grandchildren an admiration and devotion to her beautiful personality, strength of character, patience and faith.

Kittie and Harvey Dixon were reunited July 18, 1924 when she passed away at the home of their daughter at Afton after a separation of eighteen years.

HISTORICAL DATA OF KITTIE EVALINE PRITCHETT DIXON

Written at Mullin's ranch Hagerman, Idaho, May 25, 1902. This is Fred's birthday and he is 23 years old. I'll go back to that time and see how I felt. I was as near dead 23 years ago as I ever want to be until I take my final leave of this sphere.

I was born in 1851, Dec. 12, in the state of Virginia, Smith County. My mother's maiden name was Elizabeth Dean. They called her Betty. Father's mother's name was Nancy Hilton Johnson. Hilton being the proper name as our grandfather was an officer in the English army and forsook his position and came to America to assist the people at that time in what he thought was right and just that they should have Independence. It was then that he dropped his surname and took up his middle name which was Samuel Johnson Hilton.

Grandfather Pritchett's mother's maiden name was Anderson. They as well as the Pritchett's were of Scotch descent. My grandfather McIntyre I do not know much about, but I am nearly sure his mother's maiden name was Lester. Grandfather Pritchett's family consisted of five girls and two boys. Their names were as follows: Ann Eliza, Susan, Mary, William Dekalb, Sarah Brant, and Samuel Napoleon Bonaparte, & Nancy.

Ann Eliza married Colman Joplin. She had no children.

Susan married Jackson Hambrick.

Mary married Aleck Brooks. She had three girls. He died in the Civil war, near about Blue Sulphur Springs.

Wm. Dekalb married Barbara Fulcher. They had nine children.

Father (Samuel Napoleon Bonaparte) married Elizabeth McIntyre. They had two children, myself and sister Eunice, who died soon after mother, August 19, 1855. Mother was very young when she was married. She died when she was 18 years old. Father married again in 1860 to a lady from Kentucky by the name of Mary J. Gillespie. They had four children and father died in 1870. She is still alive.

Sarah B. married William F. McIntyre - my mother's brother. They had seven children, all alive now but one. Also Aunt Sally is at this writing. Uncle William McIntyre died in 1897.

Nancy married Thompson Pratt. They had twelve children. Most all dead at this writing.

Aunt Nancy died of cancer in the throat. She bled to death. Pratt married again and had his eighteenth child when he was 72 years old. Still lives in Smith County, Virginia, with his second wife.

Grandfather McIntyre's name was Alexander. He married Betty Dean. They had nine children. Their oldest daughter, Nancy, married a man by the name of Byce. They were in Texas the last we knew of them.

Thomas died in the civil war in 1862. Uncle Eli was taken prisoner and held at camp Chast in the north. He was nearly dead. Had little to eat and was not otherwise treated good. That is more the reason so many died than the change of climate as history would have you believe, but he lived through all and married and had four children. His wife died and a promise that was made to his dying wife by her cousin was fulfilled and that was that she would stay with Uncle Eli and raise her children and she did until they were .all grown and then her and Uncle Eli got married and now live in Colorado, or did in 1899.

Martha McIntyre married Wm. Helmadollar. I do not know how many children, but do know she had six. She died in Missouri and I think most of her family are dead. All the rest of grandfather's children died when they were small, but Uncle Henry, who came to Utah in 1871 as did grandfather and grandmother and curious as it may see, they all died inside of three months and the same year.

Uncle Henry married Martha Gillespie. They had two children, one boy, William, and a daughter, Martha. Martha married a man by the name of Bates in Payson, Utah. I think Will is there somewhere now.

Grandfather McIntyre died first. He was dissatisfied with Utah and its wild barren looks at that time after coming from Virginia where the climate was soft and mile and the scenery so grand. It just seemed that he pined and died as he was not undressed and in bed like most people when sick. Was ailing and would sometimes lie down on top of the bed quilts. One day he asked grandmother to come and lie beside him. She did so and laid her arm over him and noticed that his breathing was not right and he passed away.

Next was Uncle Henry. He was sick only a few days and died. No particular disease that the doctor ever told of. Thought it might be pneumonia. His wife took sick and died in a few days. Last Grandmother complained of a pain in her chest and passed quietly away. Uncle called old Dr. McIntyre of Ogden to see her and he did seem to think she was dangerously ill.

There is one thing in that family - they were very much horrified over the taking of life or anything and especially that of human life. In the Civil War all the boys were in the army sooner or later. Uncle Bill and Henry worked in the saltpeter mines as long as they could to keep from taking up arms against their fellowmen; but driven to the last extremity all the able bodied men had to go. At that time the South was nearly ready to finish, but determined to make a last stand - conquer or die trying. Then the North troops were well up into Virginia. My uncles were sent to guard the salt works about ten miles from their home at a place called Marion. Uncle said as the Union men came up the advance guard they were shot down like dogs; and when the wounded would call for water they would give them salt in their mouths and 'damn you, you came for a licking, take it". The men fought hand to hand, bayonetting one another in an awful way which made Uncle Henry sick and he threw down his gun and said, "Boys, I'm going home. I'd rather die than kill men in this way." My other Uncle said he expected to see him shot down but night found him at home.

Of the cruelties of that war, a tithing has never been told. I'm sure history does not commence to tell it; but I guess it is the best – the least that can be told.

I want to make some comments on some of the trials of that dreadful day. Grandfather Pritchett had married again as grandmother Hilton Pritchett, his wife, died the same time that my mother did of what was then thought to be contagious by some, bloody flux. In the year 1855, he married a second wife by the name of Jane Debard. She had four girls, Kittie and Fannie, Rebecca and Jenny. My Aunt Sally McIntyre had three or four children and she had to carry one on her back and another hanging to her dress skirts. There were no men to do the work outdoors or in the house, but grandfather, and he had a young family of his own and was in his sixty-sixth year, thus the women had to hoe corn, shear sheep, get their own wood and water and make a living by spinning their own and the children's clothes; and some for the men. I think some of the daughters would make a slim living when it comes to working as many did in the south in the time of the civil War.

Uncle William Pritchett came to Missouri in 1858; my father, the year I was six years old. Father was very unsettled in his mind. He wanted to return to Kentucky to get the girl he had become acquainted with as we were on our route to Missouri.. This he did in 1860 and returned in the spring of1861, after an absence of one year. I was left in the care of my Aunt Susan Hambrick. . She had three children and one of the three always tried to see how much trouble she could cause me. My life began to be full of sorrow from that time on. While my Aunt was always kin_ but like many others, thought too much of what her own children told her. My cousin kept my life worked up until my father came with a wife of nineteen. I think I must have struck her queer for she seemed to dislike me from the first. And it was rare, if ever, I received anything from her but cross works or looks, and often blows. I was expected to know what was coming and be on the move before the word was uttered. I am informed she treats her last children better than she ever did me, for which I am very glad as it is a hard, cold world at best. (Her last husband was Garlic)

My father having not boys large enough to help him, it fell to my lot to do all outdoor chores which I did, and milked in my tenth year, five cows; fed hogs and chickens and carried all of the water up hill for nearly a quarter mile. I've carried three vessels at a time, one on my head and two in my hands. I was told every day that I was no good and I thought it was so; have not changed my mind yet, in some ways no good yet.

My stepmother had chills and fever all summer and at last she had scrofulous sores break out on one of her legs so she could hardly walk or work. Her sorrow did not add anything to my happiness. I surely do pity any motherless child. I think it bad to be without a father but worse to be without a mother, as it is almost sure that a mother will make things look the best they can for their children, never telling the little things the child has done, and giving the child the benefit of the doubt, as to whether it was willful or not.

We lived in Sullivan County in 1861 and 1862, then we moved 25 miles to Lynn County. Had water plenty most of the time - cistern water, fun off from, the houses into a well and there kept until it was used up. This time we moved where the timber was thick. I have had many good lonely times rambling through the woods, gathering raspberries and blackberries, wild plums, crab apples, hazel nuts, hickory nuts, and walnuts. I think that part of the United States is and has been rich with all such things, so you see I've had a little of enjoyment mixed along with my little trials. It was at this place I first went to a picnic. I was then in my twelfth year. We had a teacher boarding in the next room. She was from Wisconsin and a fine teacher. Her name was Kelly. She took her school out for this picnic. I had my first pair of fine shoes, and went to my first outing without further or mother or relatives. They had long tables set in what was called Thomas grove; swings to swing almost out of sight, and we had a ride on the cars, - that was my first ride in a railroad coach. I had seldom been in town, and it was a treat to me then. Longed many times for such a good time as that was to me. The same winter I went out to a few parties but I was called little speckled rebel as they thought my further was a southern sympathizer at that time. I always have had a great terror of war for people say and do such bad things at such times. Nearly all good men, I mean strong men were pressed into the service at that time in the north; but my father was examined and told he was not strong enough for a soldier, so he was at home most of the time. Once he was shot at while plowing in the field. Quite a few was picked off in that way if they did not belong to the Union Army. If you were not in the army you had to join what was Quantrell's band. It was just a few southern men that was scouting around, doing the north what harm they could at different places. Some of the James boys was a part of that band; but if you knew the James boys and what they had to contend with, you would not blame them as some do. Their aged parents burned out and other outrages performed on them until they were almost wild; and they did not commit half the robberies that was laid to them. But it is so handy to have a black jack to lay all your bads on. They were the whipping boys for that part of the north to lay all their dirty deeds on.

Well, through this kind of thing I passed some of my teens. In 1864, father got a pass to cross the line into the territories and come to Utah; and we started from Florence five miles up the river from Omaha, April 1, 1864, and was all summer on the plains with ox teams. We had milk and butter most of the way. We had two cows. That year the Indians were bad and done lots of stealing of both horses and cattle. One man was shot with an Arrow and every horse was taken out of the train but one widow named Bede that was going to Oregon and she kept her horses tied to wagon, and gave them meal and pulled grass for them until we got out of the worst of the Indian country. This was somewhere near the mud springs in the Black Hills country. We reached Salt Lake City all OK.

Father went south to Sanpete County, Utah, and stayed there until he died which was in Oct. 1870. He came near being killed by Indians while he was out with sheep, while the Black Hawk War was going on. I saw six buried in one grave that had been killed in a most brutal way. One had his mouth cut from ear to ear; one of the little girls had her head split with a tomahawk; another had her bowels let out. One young man was brained and two more shot and killed. Another time one young man was killed and another wounded, their names, Tommy Jones, killed, and Will Avery wounded. At another time David Jones was shot while out hunting horses and a sheep herder killed. This all happened in or near Thistle Valley. They were buried in Fairview, Utah.

The militia was sent down from Salt Lake to help protect the people. They had a skirmish over in Thistle Valley and one man was killed. He was buried in Mount Pleasant with military honors.

During all these years the people were at work plowing, sowing, fighting Indians, and grasshoppers; young men and maidens made love, found the ones they loved and were married.

Public meetings and Sunday Schools were held and some time dances. The names of the Captain or General was Roy Pace of Payson. Captain John I vie and Mary Cottle were stabbed and lots more killed, but I never saw them, this was just my own knowledge. The people had their sorrows and pleasures just the same as they do now. This took place between 1864 and 1870.

In the spring of 1868 Utah boys were called back to the Missouri River to help the poor saints get to Zion or Utah. Six of them were drowned, one young man I was very well acquainted with, Chris Nublee and two others I slightly knew. That fall I went to Ogden to see and stay awhile with my uncles, Wm Pritchett and Wm. McIntyre. I stayed there one year. While there I became acquainted with Harvey Dixon. He came to Sanpete. The next March, 7, in 1870 we were married in the Endowment House by D. H.. Wells. We went to his father's house and lived there two weeks and then went to our own place which was a nice house with three rooms and a porch in front. I had everything new and nice and the world seemed fair to me and that there could never come anything but peace and plenty.

In the year 1871 I had a baby, stillborn, May 14th. I suffered terrible and in the same year I lost

father, grandfather and grandmother McIntyre, Uncle Henry McIntyre and wife and it seemed that death gaped to take all from me at once, and leave me nearer alone than I had ever been There are many things I could mention but it is no use. I'll try to leave out all but a few instances, - one that caused me quite a lot of sorrow was when Harvey became dissatisfied with his home and seemed to long for frontier life. Wanted to move North into Cache Valley or Round Valley as it was better known.

On May 11, 1872 a little girl was born to us. We gave her the name of Alice Evaline. She was blessed when she was four weeks old by Daniel Rawson in Harrisville. I took her along to meeting, my husband having gone north, when she was three days old.

We thought we could do better so we sold our nice little home, where I had thought of ending my days. I had no one but him and the baby so I will yet be happy; but when I got to the place he had chosen for our home, I was as heartsick as ever I was in my life. Not one soul did I know and

some of them I got acquainted with have since caused me more sorrow and trouble than five hundred pages could tell.

He bought a place in what was called Clifton, but it was only a few houses scattered along the road. We had, at that time, about 95 head of horses, a span of mules, good wagon, thirty five

head of cattle, $1,000 in cash and perhaps more, some loose change, and food enough to last a year. But when we went there they were nearly all real poor. Every place was a place to get rid of money. At that time you could have mowed a swath from Weston to Oxford, but it was soon run out or ate out with horses and cattle. As to sheep there was hardly none. It cost us a lot to get a house put up. He put up a stone house, had the rock quarried out and hauled. We done all right the first winter. Cattle and horses wintered out nearly all together. But the second winter we did not have much feed. Crickets were bad the season dry. The latter part of the winter a thaw came and covered the ground with water and the cattle turned out'; and then it froze so that the animals could not get anything to eat. We had a heavy loss. Then we got along pretty good the next year. We got part of the house finished. Then we went and worked on what was known as the Utah Northern Railroad; himself and a hired man, and never got a cent for his labor. A Mr. Yout got a good job done for nothing. And then they started another railroad and again he went because he was called or asked in the same way and with the same pay. Such things as that is the way our time and money went in the spring and summer of the year 1874.

August 16, 1974, I had a baby boy (Harvey). I had him blessed by Elder McQuarrie when four weeks old. I had a girl to help me with the cows and work and he had (her husband) one man and a boy. But will here tell that we never lived alone but three weeks but what we had two or three men to cook for. I will here mention the different boys who have lived with us: Will McDermott, Dan McFarlane, Alf Taylor, Oliver Wilson, Willie Casteel, Alf Henderson, Jim McIntyre. I did well that summer. I sold cheese and butter, paid my help, supplied the house and helped pay the men. We had a fine time, two babies and plenty to do with, but all things have an end, and so it was with us.

In 1875 I done as usual, milked the cows and sold butter and eggs at my door all summer to peddlers and did fine. Pa worked on the railroad and got the same pay as he had been getting only the horses' feed was furnished. That full he thought that he would finish the house as there was one room that had no window in and he was going to put it in and was doing something about the lintel. The two children were standing by the window on the inside while he was working on the outside. I went in and asked ifhe didn't think a rock might fall on them. He said there was no danger, so I left them back through two rooms to make the bed. I had taken off one quilt when I had a presentiment to go and get the children away, so I went. I said, "I'm going to take the children away." They both cried and said they wanted to stay. I took one in my arms and led the other and before I had gotten halfway across the floor the whole north wall where they were standing fell. It would have crushed them to death instantly if I had left them. I have always thanked the Lord for his timely warning, and I have never missed it when I have been governed by my first promptings, not even inasmuch as the missing of a batch of bread. I was sure to need it.

Not long after Pa, or my husband, more proper, was going to the canyon to make a road. I dreamed that he got hurt up there, and I begged him not to go that day, and told him why. He said that there was not a thing that could hurt anyone and he went. The road was on the side of a hill, in what was known as loafer creek, he went to roll a rock out of the road. It was very large and he thought that it would require a terrible lift to move it, and he gave a hard push. It went much easier than he had expected, and he went with it down the hill. It caught him against another rock and some bushes and nearly crushed his leg. He was lame for a long time.

One time I wanted $2 to sign for a paper. I wanted my husband to let me have it, but he said he did not have it. I wanted it just the same, and then I asked the Lord to open up the way where I could get the money. That same night two men came and stayed all night. They asked me what I charged. I told them that was something we never done. He said it was worth $2 to them and he laid it on the table.

I have had my prayers answered in sickness and sorrow many, many times. I think the Lord has been very good to me when I have lived for it. I have never been turned away in my days of trial. I have pain and sorrow, but when I thought it was only the sorrows that man can bring to man and not the sorrows of wrath of God, and when I prayed with faith, and then taken the opportunities that was offered; in not doing, I have done wrong in many things that would have been to my advantage. I would advise all to embrace every opportunity that the Lord offers, and not question it.

We have lost lots of means by my husband trusting people and not taking notes in a business way. He would always say "O, that will be all right." And often that was the end of it, but there is other ways, and this is one: By signing your name for others, or firms of such institutions. So beware all that read this, and don't get taken in by a supposed mend, or you will want and none to help you. And you should look out for such. Written words of agreement are always good, and will not hurt an honest man, and will catch and hold the doubtful.

In about this time, Harvey thought he must have another wife. In 1876 he was sealed to one Susan Harmon. I grieved over him as though he was dead. It was the greatest trial of my life. It hurts but it won't kill, and I have known.

In 1877, Kittie (Kittie Calpurna Dixon) was born. The first fruits of polygamy. I did as well as I could without anyone to look forward to for comfort or counsel. It was not my lot to have any near me of my blood relatives, while she had her father and mother, and a host of relatives. In all things, I have tried to do as near right as I could. Every day brought its sunshine and shadow and so things went on the same way.

He had a store started but it never benefited us at all. We had quite a herd of cattle but they were sold and put in, at different times, to keep up the stock in the store. My advice to my children has been to never do anything that they would need to make right. Stay off from the devil's floor if you would not have him use you. We lived just the same after all of our loss, but not so well as we might have done if we had been let alone.

Susan lost her oldest boy, 1878. He was kicked by a horse and instantly killed. They tried hard to bring him to life but could not as his neck was broken. The same year the diphtheria was very bad. Some lost two or three and some lost all their children. We had some very sick but none died. Julia Hooker lived with me. We thought she was dying all night but she lived and is now the wife of Riley Davis of Clifton. His first wife died and it was her request that he should marry Julia to care for her children.

My oldest daughter did not want to have it for fear she would die so Jane M. Howell told her every time she thought of it to take a good dose of cayenne pepper. She took a dose several times a day and never took it.

====================

KITTIE EVALINE PRITCHETT DIXON - by her daughter Alice Lee Burton

In 1865, persecution of polygamous Mormons grew so intense that Father was continuously on the "underground", that is trying to keep from being arrested & tried for having more than 1 wife. He was determined not to stand trial only to be sent to prison for 2-3 years & pay a fine of $200-500.

During this time their property had diminished & it was hard to care for 2 families, attend to church duties, and look after business as he should. Idaho had then passed "The Test Oath", that practically disfranchised all Mormons. Late in the fall of 1885 he took Aunt Susan with her 4 children & moved to Star Valley. Mother remained in Clifton with her family of 6 children, the oldest being 13 years, the youngest a babe of a few months.

She never saw Father again for 2 years & she had a hard time supporting herself & her family, & trying to save what she could of the property left, (a homestead, 2 town houses, & interest in a small co-op store). Mother worked hard, took in sewing, helped with the sick, took in boarders, etc., trying to feed & clothe & care for the family.

In the fall of 1887, she sold some property, bought a good team & wagon, loaded in what household goods she could, & driving her own team started for Star Valley. We were a long time on the road which was rough & traveled.

She moved into a 2 room log house with a dirt roof. However it was papered on the inside & quite comfortable. Here Asael was born on Aug. 3, 1888, & Elsa Mae, June 15, 1891. They endured all of the hardships of pioneer life & made the most of it. They had a few head of sheep. Father sheared the sheep, Mother washed the wool, carded it, spun it into yarn, knitted our socks, stockings, & mittens, & wove it into cloth for dresses, underwear, & sheets for the bed. Mother was always active in church & community affairs, was public-spirited, taking quite an active part in everything for the betterment of the home or community.

Aug. 14, 1892 at the organization of the Star Valley Stake, she was chosen Stake President of the Relief Society, which position she held for 8 years. They had no buggies or cars, & visits to the different wards had to be made by team & wagon. The wards were far apart, some even being 25 miles away. She was clerk of the school district of Afton for a number of years.

In Oct. 1899, Father sold his homes in Afton & moved to Hagerman, Idaho. Not finding conditions as they expected them, in the spring of 1900 they moved to Fir Grove, on Camas Prairie, where they pioneered again. Fir Grove was 15 miles from Soldier, the nearest town where we could get supplies.

In May 1900, her son Samuel W. (Willie as we called him) was killed in a runaway at Bliss, Idaho, while making a trip from Hagerman to Fir Grove. The team he was driving became frightened, when some Indians rode up behind him. The team was hitched to a cart with no brake, became unmanageable, both he & his brother Philemon were thrown out & dragged some distance. He walked perhaps ¼ mi and dropped dead on the porch of the house at the Bliss station. Philemon lay unconscious for 3 weeks, but finally recovered. This was a sad ordeal for Mother. In a strange country, away from friends & relatives, neighbors sympathized with her & the family & helped all they could. Mother supervised the laying away of the body, making his clothes herself. Said she preferred to, as it would be all she could do for him. Not many attended the funeral, as we were strangers, which added much to Mother's sorrow. She was called to act as Relief Society President in the soldier branch of the Cassia Stake, which position she held until a ward was organized at Manard, where she was again chosen President of the Relief Society. While at Fir Grove & isolated as we were, she was doctor & nurse when several babies came into the world. Sep. 4, 1904, her youngest daughter died of appendicitis (Elsa Mae). At this time she came near to having a nervous breakdown. She grieved so much it was decided to move to new scenes. She rented the Hotel at Bliss, Idaho & managed that for a number of years, later building a nice home at Fir Grove. Asael, her youngest son, was now ready for college. She moved to Logan, Utah & took in boarders to help keep him in school; living there during the school year & moving back to Fir Grove in the summer.

In June, 1906 her husband contracted spotted fever at Fir Grove. He died at the Bliss Hotel July 2, 1906.

In 1915, she attended a Genealogical Convention in San Francisco, California; being sent there by the Manard Relief Society as a representative from Manard. She sold her home at Fir Grove & invested the proceeds with Asael in a home at Oakley, Idaho. When Asael moved to Buhl, she lived around with her other children for a while, later buying a home at Gooding, Idaho. She had only been there 2 years when she had a partial stroke, from which she never fully recovered.

In June 1924 we persuaded her to go to Afton thinking she would have better care. This was very much against her wishes, for she said, "I don't want to be buried there. I want to rest beside my husband & my children, Will & Elsa Mae in the Hagerman Cemetery." She couldn't stand the trip & change & developed dropsy & died July 18, 1924 at the home of her daughter, Kittie C. Burton & was buried in the Afton Cemetery. We promised, that is Fred & I, not to leave her there & we never intended to, thinking we could move the body later. But we waited too long. When we tried to move her about 5 years later, the casket & box were so decayed they thought best to let her rest where she is. There is a good marker on the grave. But I shall always regret that we didn’t take her back to Idaho to rest by the ones she loved.

(Webmaster’s note: She is now buried in Hagerman, Idaho, next to her husband Harvey Dixon. Thanks to a great-great-granddaughter in Emmett, Idaho, here are pictures from 2003 of the grave markers of Harvey (left) and Kittie (right) in Hagerman)

How we’re related:

Samuel Napoleon Bonepart PRITCHETT married Mary Elizibeth (Betty)McEntire in Smith County, Virginia. They had Kittie Evaline Pritchett, who married Harvey Dixon. They had Kitty Calpurna Dixon, who married Arthur Fielding Burton.
They had Calpurna Burton, who married Lyman Wilford "Dime" Fluckiger.
They had Dr. Lyman Burton Fluckiger, who married Valene Bradshaw. The Fluckigers are the parents of the webmaster’s wife; she's their oldest daughter.
To contact her, please go to her main webpage at www.oocities.com/iflk, or e-mail pedigree_vault@yahoo.com and put "Pritchett" in the subject line. Thank you!

John Anderson Pritchett and John A. Pritchett: An uncle and his nephew of Chatham Hill, Smyth County, Virginia

In doing research of the Pritchett Family of Chatham Hill, Smyth County, Virgina, there’s been quite a bit of confusion regarding two men, both named John Anderson Pritchett. Hopefully this will set the record straight.

Samuel Pritchett (born 1761) married Rebecca Anderson (born 1776), in Culpepper County, Virginia, on 20 Nov 1793. They had several children, (most in Tazwell or Chatham Hill, Smyth County, Virginia), including:

1) John Anderson Pritchett (born 4 August, 1794; died 16 Nov. 1875, in Tazwell, Virginia; served during 1864-1865 in the Confederate Army). Called "Old John". He and Nancy Hilton Johnston (born 25 Dec 1790; Died: 26 Aug 1855) had 7 children, including:

2) James Mitchell Pritchett (born 1 June, 1817, in Smyth County, Virginia; died 20 January, 1902, in Fairview, Sanpete County, Utah; the family left around 1857 for Kentucky, Missouri & then Utah). He and Mary Ann Fulcher had 10 children, including:

Samuel Napoleon Bonepart Pritchett, born 16 June, 1827 (or 18 Jan*); died 22 Oct. 1870 in Fairview, Sanpete County, Utah. He married Mary Elizabeth (Betty) McIntire, who gave him 2 children before she passed away in August, 1855 in Smyth County, Virginia. He then married Mary Jane Gillespie of Morgan County, Kentucky, who bore him 4 children. One of Samuel’s children by his first marriage was:

John Anderson Pritchett (born 23 Sept. 1840 in Smyth County, VA; 21 Oct. 1920 in Fairview, Utah. He was a Lieutenant in one of the Smyth County Regiments in the Confederate Army during the Civil War; he disapeared in the late spring of 1863, but later met his family when they arrived in Utah (on 31 August, 1864). Called "Young John".

Kittie Evelin Pritchett (Dixon), born 12 December 1851 in Smyth County, Virginia. She passed away in 1924 in Afton, Star Valley, Wyoming. She had:

If you are related to anyone on this page, I would enjoy hearing from you. Pictures are especially appreciated. Please put "Pritchett family" in the subject of your e-mail, and e-mail me at iflk@yahoo.com. (*Most of this information is NOT original research, but comes from the FamilySearch.com Internet site or from the book "Lest We Forget".) You can return to my main page at www.oocities.com/iflk

Kittie Calpurna Dixon (Burton), who was mother of Calpurna Burton (Fluckiger), the grandmother of the webmaster of this page.

Thomas Guyman 1787 - 1855

2012-01-04T10:17:00.001-08:00

Thomas Guymon was born in Stokes County, North Carolina in 1787. He was the son of Isaiah Guymon and Elizabeth Flynn. Thomas married Sarah Gordon and they had eleven children. He signed a contract to teach school in Jackson, Tennessee 11 July 1821. He was to teach reading and writing five days a week for three months for k$6.00, half in money and half in wood cotton cloth. He was to keep good order in school and make up all the time he lost. He and the signers of this contract were to build the schoolhouse.

In 1836, while his son James was working away from home James heard Mormon Elders preach the gospel. He was so impressed that he hurried home to tell the family. His father, Thomas and others were in the forest cutting down trees at the time. When they heard the message, Thomas stood on a stump and told the men “It is the truth; I have been waiting for it all my life.” Soon Thomas, his wife Sarah, and their sons James, Noah Thomas and three daughters joined the Church 2 March 1836 and went to Missouri and settled in Clay County. They crossed the plains in the Aaron Johnson Company.

Thomas and Sarah Gordon had six sons and five daughters. One son named Noah Thomas was born 30 June 1819 in Jackson County, Tennessee.

Sarah Gordon 1791 - 1872

2012-01-04T10:16:00.000-08:00

Sarah was the oldest of John Gordon and Barsilla Martin’s children. She was born 20 November 1789 in Surry County, North Carolina. Being the oldest of twelve children Sarah had many responsibilities; helping her mother with the children, making beds and helping her mother in the tavern. She had a busy life and never knew an idle moment.

Sarah married Thomas Guymon in Stokes County, North Carolina the 23 day of February, 1809. He was the son of Isaiah Guymon and Elizabeth Flynn. He was an ambitious young man who farmed in the summer months and taught school in the winter. They lived in Stokes County North Carolina for six years. During that time three sons-Isaiah, john and William were born to them. They moved to Jackson County, Tennessee in 1815. Here they had three more sons – James, Noah Thomas and Martin and one daughter Barzilla. Ten years later they moved again, this time to Edgar County, Illinois in 1825. While living here they had four daughters – Elizabeth, Polly Ann, Sarah Jane and Melissa Jane.

Sarah and her husband were converted to the Church of Jesus Christ of latter Day saints in 1836, and soon joined with the saints and were with them in all their persecutions. Their son James came to Utah in 1849 and a year later in the spring of 1850 Thomas and Sarah Guymon with their daughter Melissa Jane, their son Noah Thomas and his wife and children, their daughter Polly Ann and her husband Robert Johnson and their children, all came to Utah with the Aaron Johnson company. Their three eldest sons however did not come to Utah. The family with others made many preparations for the journey to Utah. Among other things, they had to train or break cows to lead on a wagon of three yoke of oxen.

The most pleasant part of their journey was spent traveling along the banks of the Missouri River. The company crossed the river to flat boats, and the cattle swam the river. They gathered buffalo chips to make fires in the prairie lands. The company traveled long hard hours, but they always took time out at night to sing songs of praise and enjoy on another’s company before retiring.

Three days before the end of this journey their son James came to meet them. The children were driving the cattle ahead of the wagons, and when they saw their Uncle James coming they shouted for joy. The shouts of joy soon rang out through the entire company. Thomas and Sarah were indeed happy to see their son, and the company were glad to see someone they knew, for now they were sure that their long journey would soon be at an end. Finally they arrived at the little town of Salt Lake City. One of the signs that impressed the children was a red flag on a stick nailed up on a on a log room to show that merchandise was sold there, and another log room with a tin cup outside to show that tin was sold there.

They spent the first week with James, who lived on the little Cottonwood River. He had a lovely garden which furnished good eating for the new arrivals to the valley. The married children moved down into Utah County, all except James, who moved down some time later. Thomas and Sarah spent their first winter in Salt lake Valley.

Sarah had a very quick temper and was very determined about getting her own way when she felt she was right. The people in Salt lake Valley were told to take their dry cows in the herd, and let the herder take them to Antelope Island, which is an island in the Great Salt Lake. Sarah felt it was wrong to let her cows be sent over there for the winter. The herder came and put her cows in wit the rest of the herd. She was very determined that her cows were not going so she came out with her cane for a switch and turned her cows out of the herd and took them home. The cows had to be herded all the time. She must have known what she was doing, for the other cows froze to death and her cows furnished milk for her family and many more settlers.

Sarah not only loved her children very much, but she was very fond of her brothers and sisters. We have found many instances where she was close to the son of her sister, his name was Calvin Gordon Stone, who lived in Utah Among the letters written to her youngest brother Martin was found a document giving Martin the power of Attorney and a letter with it asking him to sell her land which was left to her by her father. Her father was a wealthy man at the time of his death. Her oldest brother James was the Administrator of the estate. This letter to martin was writing Feb 28, 1870. In this same letter she stated that her health was very poor and that she was living with her son Noah Thomas and that he was taking care of all her business affairs.

After Noah Thomas moved to Springville, Thomas and Sarah moved to Springville. Here Thomas died October 20, 1855. After the death of her husband, Sarah moved to Fountain Green to be hear her children there. She lived in a home of her own, and had a girl named Martha Jane Park live with her for company. She lived the last few years with her son Noah Thomas. Here she died on December 7, 1872, at the age of 91 years. She was taken to Springville for burial beside her husband.

Susannah Webley 1812 - 1878

2012-01-03T18:38:00.000-08:00

The will of John Long Gravel father of Susannah Webly Hurst dated September 6, 1830, states: I give and devise unto my daughter, Susannah, wife of William Hurst, all the messuage, or tenants and premises thereto belonging, situated at Atwood Banks, in the parish of Feckenham or Peckenham, Worchastershire, lately occupied by Thomas Thorn. To hold my said daughter and assisns for and during her natural life and for and after her decease, I give and devise same last-menioned tenants and premises unto my two grandchildren William and Elizabeth Hurst, as tenants in common on and not part tenants and to their respective heirs and assigns forever. I also give all the newly erected buildings on a piece of land close by called Tuckers Hall to my daugheter Susannah, wife of William Hurst, and her assigns forward during her natural life and after her decease.”

For some reason, William and Susannah never did get this property, or he may have had to leave it when he joined the church and came to America. When his son went on a mission to England, he wrote his sister Mary Maycock that their cousins’ ill-gotten property had never done them any good. They drank it up and wasted it in evil living.

William married Susannah Webly 14 March 1830. She was the daughter of Richard Webley and Jane Danby. They were comfortably situated and had eight children, all born in England except the last one born in St Louis Missouri. Only three of the eight grew to maturity. One of them died in St Louis Missouri of cholera

Soon after his death, his family moved to Springville, where his wife married James Maycock. When Johnson’s army came to Utah and many of the Saints moved to Springville James Maycock traded his place for land in Ogden and that branch of the family moved to Ogden. Claribel Hurst Moore granddaughter of William Hurst

Matilda Shepherd 1820 - 1892

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When the Civil War was going strong, the armies would pass by their plantation, which was not too large and any soldier that got sick was left by the wayside to die. Matilda Shepherd Young, being informed of any of those near her place, would see that they were given medicine and food. On one occasion she took care of a colored man that she found in the forest, and took medicine and food and gave him some old clothes to help him on his way when he got able to travel. The Army officers would come and ask her husband for his horses and he told them he couldn’t spare them, that he had a large family and needed them to provide for his children. He never was made to part with any.

She cooked all the meals on a wide fireplace. Large pots were hung over the fire. She and the children gathered nuts during nut season and they took care of them to use during the long winter months.

After the Civil War was over some of the boys were getting pretty well grown up. Floyd, being the oldest, had been mustered into Service, but got taken prisoner. He was soon turned loose, but had to swear allegiance to the flag and to the Government of the U.S.A.

His parents had joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints about sixteen or eighteen years before and he was in a quandary whether to join them too. So he decided to join the Army that the U.S. Government was sending out to Utah, General Johnson in command. That would give him a chance to see Utah and the Church first hand and see what the people were like.

He went out to Utah, then came back and married the girl of his choice, Nancy Emmeline Pritchett. They went back out to Utah.

During a cold rainy night Dr. young went out to attend a patient and got wet and took cold which was his undoing. He had the best of care by his wife, but I guess it was time for him to go. He passed away 16 February, 1869. Evalina Young Coryell

After her husband’s death Matilda determined to go to Salt Lake. Her youngest daughter was about nine years old by the time they were ready to leave. They left the place in the hands of a man named Hubble.

Several years later her son, William F. Young, went back to Virginia and collected six hundred dollars for the farm. Grandmother Young had to live very frugally the rest of her life. She nursed the women inn their confinements. One big event was when she arrived in St Louis. She bought her first cook stove, which she used many years. They lived in Payson when they first went to Utah, but they didn’t stay there too long. They finally moved to Fairview. When I was in Fairview in 1930 some of my Westwood cousins took me to see her old home. I was so happy to see the home she had lived in. It was frame, - not a house that would attract, but it was all she had.

Matilda did temple work whenever she could get a chance. I have an idea she did most of it at Manti. I know of some work she did for women relatives, and a number of male relatives, she saw that it was done. We don’t have the exact date she migrated to Arizona, but she didn’t come when her daughter Sara Indiaetta Vance did. She came to live at our house. I remember her cooking for us children. One dish she used to fix was called “lumpy dick”. As near as I could remember how it was made. She prepared a large pot with boiling water, took flour and cold water and put some salt in and mixed it up like dumplings and dropped it into the hot water and let them cool. Then we took them out and just dropped one or two into milk in a bowl. I always liked it, but maybe I wouldn’t now.

We children had a little wagon and grandmother, being a very small woman, would put that bandana on her head and sit in the little wagon and we children would haul her up to the Vance home to spend the rest of the day. Man were the times we did this. She had one dark scarf she wore on her head, but usually she wore the red bandana. I remember her in her coffin. She was at the home of Sarah and the lid was off and she was dressed in her temple clothes. That was one thing I never forgot, how she and my mother were laid away. The Relief Society would get together and make all the burial clothes those days. Evalina Young Coryell

Absolom McDonald Young 1813 - 1899

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“

My father was Absolom McDonald Young, my mother Matilda Shepherd. My grandfather was Robert H. Young and my great grandfather was John Young but I cannot remember my grandmother’s name. My father, my uncle, Pleasant Young and my brother Robert young, were all doctors. My grandfather, my father and my Uncle Robert were also plantation owners. Uncle Robert following the customs of the South owned slaves, but my father and my grandfather both thought it was very wrong for one human being to own another and did not do so.

My mother often told me of the time of my birth. Since there were no towns of any size only vast fields and forests my father had to drive long distances to visit his patients. On one of these trips my brother went along. Coming home he accidently fell off the wagon and was seriously injured. His face was crushed, his nose broken and his jaw fractured. An old Negro came running to my mother and asked her to come. Bravely she went along with him through the woods in the black of night. Two days later I was born.

I can look back with pleasure on the days of my childhood, spent on our large plantation of 1600 acres. It seemed to me that everything that few was to be found there if you just took the trouble to go out and get it. There were at least three different kinks of walnuts. There were also chestnuts and chinkapins or dwarf chestnuts, for they are only one-fourth as large. We have the chinkapins to the hogs. And at the chestnuts. We simply picked them up when they fell off the trees and the burrs fell from them. Then we spent many a pleasant evening around the fire roasting them.

We also had many sugar maple trees. I can remember seeing the men tap these trees to make the maple syrup. We stood around and watched and when the work was all done it was always a great time for us children. We got the last batch for candy.

In the fall when the acorns and chinkipins fell the servants would turn the hogs out into the woods to fatten for the winter killing. Then when the cold weather se in came hog-killing time. I cane remember all this—how the hogs were killed; how we salted down the meat; how much sausage we made; how the meat was finally hung up to cure in the smokehouse. I haven’t forgotten either how good it tasted—great platters of ham and eggs and stalks of buckwheat cakes to be eaten with maple syrup made from our own sugar-maple trees. How well I can still see our large family grouped around the table on joying those meals!

We had no near neighbors and as the other children were all so much older than I was, it was up to a large extent for me to amuse myself. Now on our plantation there was a big cave. This was so large that no one knew just how far back it did go or had ever found the end of it. I played here in the mouth of this cave all alone.

I want to tell you about how my tree houses that I liked even better. I can still see how I made them. The trunks of the trees grew short from the ground. Big logs grew up from these trunks. These logs were covered with moss. I would take this moss and roll it up into a ball and put it up into the low forks of some tree. I would then spread it all over the wide spreading branches and build the floor for my playhouse. Then I would play here for hours and hours with my acorn dolls.

I remember very distinctly the drug room where our father kept his medicines. There was shelf after shelf full of these. Some he compounded himself of native herbs but most of them were purchased. I like to spend much time with my father here. I dearly loved my father and my ambition was to become a doctor like him when I grew up. I can still see the picture we made as we strode about in a deep study with me behind him, trying to keep up with his long strides. If I could just be out following him about the fields I would be perfectly happy. In my tree houses I played doctor and kept various bottles of water as medicine for my dolls.

I can remember the war vividly. M father was too old to fight so he was forced to make long trips hauling provisions for the soldiers. Several times soldiers came to our house and tried to compel m father to give them his horses and cattle but he would never unlock his barn door for them. And they never forced him to. He always told them that he had a large family and needed all that he had to feed his children. I can remember hearing guns going off in the distance but the fighting never came so very close to our plantation.

Once a young deserter from the army came to our house. He was so young scarcely more than a child, that my father took pity on him. He hid him in the woods and the servant’s carried food and water to him out there until it was safe for him to go on.

My mother made all the clothing for us children and all our household linens. I can still see her as she worked over her small spinning wheel. She spun the thread and then died the yarn with herbs she gathered from the woods. The only linen she purchased was that which went into my father’s shirts. My father wore tailored suits but my mother made everything else. All the sewing was done by hand in her beautiful, precise stitches.

Sometimes we went visiting at the home of our Uncle Robert, who lived some distance away. I would ride on the saddle in front of my mother and away we would go through the woods. At night the Negro mammies would put us children to bed. As she tucked each child in, the mammy would kiss her good-night. But I would never let her kiss me!

I would about four years old when some Elders from the Mormon Church in Utah came to our part of the country to tell the people about their religion. My father and mother were very receptive of their father and sympathetic with their work. These men made such a big impression on me that I can even remember the name of one of them. It was Dusenberry. Before they returned to Utah both my father and my mother had been converted and baptized into the faith of the Mormons.

A short time after this my father died. He was called out on a bitter cold sleety night to visit a patient. He contracted pneumonia from the exposure and was very ill for days. On his death bed he made my mother promise that she would take us children an go to Utah, for he was certain that if we remained in Virginia we would be persecuted for our religious belief as were the Mormons in all parts of the country except Utah.

So my mother sod our houses, hogs, sheep and cattle for what she could get for them in order to raise money for the journey. We were unable to get anything for our land or for the furniture in the house. Nobody would but it from us because we were Mormons. So we left the estate in the hands of an administrator, a man named Hubble, whom my father had always considered honest. He never did anything for us though. Out of the entire 1600 acre plantation we realized only something like five or six hundred dollars. From The Story of My Life by Sarah L. Young Vance

President Erastus Snow:

I know drop you a few lines to let you know how I am getting along in this part of the vineyard. I have charge of between two and three hundred members of the church of Jesus Christ in Virginia, and North Carolina. I am preaching and baptizing through this land all I can, and if you have a surplus Elder whom you can recommend as worthy of his calling, tell him to come over and help us.

I had a worthy brother and fellow laborer in the Gospel covenant, whom all the Saints loved, and the world could not hate, because of his confirmed walk and conversation through life, but he has left his stage of action to visit the spirit world, to reap a glorious reward for his labors in the cause of Christ. I would to God that all men were as he, for he lived the life of the righteous and died a righteous death. Brother Samuel Rogers was greatly lamented by all the Saints in this part of the vineyard.

I must say to you President Snow, that since the LUMINARY has come to hand, it has revived the hearts of the Saints who were bowed down, and for my own part, I cannot help thanking you for coming down from the hill of Zion to defend the truth, and let the world know there are two sides of the question to read, instead of the one that has been going the rounds of the journals, clothed with the latest of lies, which are preached from the pulpits by those long faced hypocrites who have no more regard for the souls of men than for the beasts of the field. Money is their motive- it is money that leads them to preach their dogmas, for which they are determined to persist in error.

May God bless all this Saints throughout the world may the Elders gird on the whole armor of God, that they may resist all opposition and come off more than more than conquerors, and go home to Zion laden with many Sheaves. Absalom M. Young. September 4, 1855 Smith county VA. Taken from the St. Louis Luminary, Saturday Sep 29, 1855

Norma Louise Jones Dawson Brown 1927 - 2011

2012-01-01T14:16:00.000-08:00

Brown, Norma Louise Jones, 81, of Mesa, AZ passed away on December 21, 2011. Norma Louise Jones Wadsworth Dawson Brown was born in Prescott, AZ, and lived the majority of her life in the Phoenix-Mesa area. Norma was a loving wife, mother, homemaker, friend, and devote member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. She is survived by her four children, Janice Wadsworth, Julie Wadsworth, Jill Heywood, and Jeffrey Wadsworth. Funeral services will be held at 10:00 a.m. on Tuesday, December 27, 2011, at the Three Fountains 2nd Ward building located at 1852 North Stapley Drive, Mesa, AZ 85203. Visitation will be from 9:00-9:45 a.m. at the church. Interment will be at Greenwood Memory Lawn in Phoenix, AZ.

Leo's Full Journal

2011-09-12T07:04:00.001-07:00

Thanks

There are two ladies in the Castaic Ward who have typed my experiences that I am indebted to. They are Sister Vicki Johnson and Sister Kimber Johnson. Also to my daughter in law Aleyna Schafer Mathias who completed the project. Thank you all.

Warning

Warning! Some of the material in this journal is very graphic. It is my personal history and experiences, and I am not changing it for anybody because this is the way it was.

Table of Contents

1. Table of Contents

2. Introduction

3. Mother’s Prayer

4. For The Love of Work

5. Enemy Aircraft

6. Relocate

7. Bad Habits

8. Brigham

9. Crash Landing

10. Donuts

11. Home Teacher

12. Temple Tour

13. A Near Fatal Mistake

14. Utah Girl

15. His Departure

16. Las Vegas Nevada

17. Ultimate Compliment

18. Troop Train

19. Enemy Fire

20. Just Girls

21. On The Road

22. Close Call

23. Shooting Stars

24. 13-5

25. Psycho

26. No Keys

27. Temple Buddy

28. Pen Pal

29. Blind

30. Hard As Nails

31. Stoned

32. Standing Tall

33. Curfew

34. Saturday Bath

35. Blood Soaked

36. Harley Motorcycle

37. Memorable Ride

38. Disneyland

39. A Lone Sniper

40. Pistol Packing Mamma

41. One Thin Dime

42. Journal Entry

43. A Helping Hand

44. Freight Train

45. Freight Train cont.

46. Ditch Water

47. Stew

48. Spiritual Experience

49. I Heard the Bugle

50. No Regrets

51. Pleased

52. Getting Old

53. Appreciation

54. Homeward Bound

55. Horses

56. Wild Cats

57. Elmo the Dog

58. The Year Is 2010

59. Conclusion

Introduction

I was born in Goodland, Kansas only because my mother and father were driving through at the time of my arrival. My parents were living in Grand Junction, Colorado. I spent some of my childhood there when I was five or six.

My mother was infected with TB and sent to Arizona to recuperate. I was sent to live with my grandparents in a farming community near Basalt, Colorado. I started school there. My sister, Martha Jean was sent to live with Nelson and Edith Cane, my mother’s sister, in a nearby community. After a few years, I was sent to live with my Uncle Sy and Sylvia Dossigny, my mother’s brother, on a nearby farm. My mother finally returned from the TB sanitarium in Arizona. My father worked for the railroad. Work was scarce, so he and my mother moved to Los Angeles, California. My dad got on the Southern Pacific Railroad. When they got settled, they sent for me and my sister. I had a number of cousins. My Uncle Sys' sons were Leslie and Clifford. His daughters were Gayle and Bonnie. Uncle Nelson and Aunt Edith had a son and a daughter, Curtis and Leona. My Aunt Edith had a daughter named Irene Henry.

Mother’s Prayer

This incident took place in 1950, during the Korean War. As our tank company advanced northward, we encountered heavy fighting at times. However, the enemy was not inclined to fire on a column of tanks unless they were well armed with bazookas and had a lot of manpower. They were well armed; however, we could be ambushed from the side of the road. They used a long stick or pole with a large charge of dynamite at the end of the pole. They would run out from the bushes and put the charge of dynamite under the tank track. This would blow the track off. But they would still do it. Bump and run attacks by gorillas are very effective. The Russian made T-34 tanks which we had a lot of respect for, could cross a rice patty full of water and mud and not get stuck. Where in our M-46 patton tanks would get stuck.

One evening we started looking for a place to spend the night. We found a cornfield that had been cut and harvested. The field was clear and flat; a good location for tanks. Beyond the cornfield, there was heavy brush. The tanks would form a circle, with tanks pointing in every direction, much like the covered wagons in the pioneer days. I was fortunate to pull an early guard that night, 9 to 11 pm. I was on outer guard, which means I was outside the tank circle. There was a partial moon that night, and as I looked about, I thought I saw the enemy moving. The enemy figured we would spend the night there, and they were waiting for us. All of a sudden, the bushes started moving toward me. Then came the charge. They came hollering and shooting. Wave after wave, they just kept coming. The tank crews got in their tanks and moved out. I was not assigned to a tank and had nowhere to go. In the darkness, I could not distinguish the enemy from our own troops. Somehow, I escaped. Sometime later, I rejoined my tank company. When the company commander saw me coming, he said to me, “Mathias, someone upstairs likes you. How did you manage to get out of there alive?” I told him I wondered about that myself. The answer came some weeks later when the mail caught up to us. I received a letter from my mother. She wrote, “The other night I was awakened in the middle of the night from a sound sleep and knew you were in grave danger, and that I should pray for you.” And as I thought over the night she was talking about, I realized it was the same night we were attacked. Then I knew why my life was spared.

For The Love of Work

I have always enjoyed working, even in my younger years. On a farm with my Uncle and Aunt Dossigny on their cattle ranch in Basalt, Colorado, I would mow the alfalfa fields with a mowing machine pulled by two horses. We would then rake the hay and stack it in a huge pile, 30 or 40 feet high. While I was there, I had the privilege of going on a bona fide cattle drive, and it was fun.

When I was older and out of the service, we were living in Los Angeles. Our neighbor had a plumbing business and asked me to work for him. I worked in the plumbing trade for some years. It was ok, but there was not much variety. I got a job with the Los Angeles County Road Department. There was much more variety there, and I liked it. That kind of work involved operating heavy equipment and hauling bulldozers and scrapers on a low bed truck and trailer. Some of the equipment we moved weighed upwards of 60 tons, and some of our transport trucks had 42 wheels.

One day, one of our transport trucks broke down in the High Desert north of Lancaster, California. I was assigned to pick them up and bring them back to the yard in Los Angeles. It was customary for the driver who was assigned to pick them up to provide them with some liquid refreshments, because they had spent most of the day in the heat of the desert and were probably thirsty and out of water. That was ok with me, but I had no money to buy the refreshments with. I wondered how I could face them with no refreshments. I stopped at a wide place along the road where people stopped to relieve themselves. As I walked back to my truck, I noticed an ice chest just sitting there by the side of the road. There was no one around. I opened it, and it was full of iced down beer, whiskey and sodas. Apparently, someone had taken it off of their vehicle for some reason and forgotten to put it back in. I put it on my truck and drove off. When I arrived at my destination where I was to pick up the crew, the first words out of their mouths were, “What did you bring us to drink?” I opened the ice chest, and they were delighted. They whopped and hollered and drank and drank, and patted me on the back.

I also worked on snow removal in the winter at Mount Wilson. I drove a snowplow and operated an auger-driven snow blower that blew snow 60 feet in the air. It was fun.

Then I got on with the Los Angeles County Fire Department. They hired me for my expertise in heavy equipment. I worked with the bulldozer and helicopter crews on brush and grass fires. It was a pleasant place to work. It was fun and exciting. During the fire season, we were always on the go. After 20 years with them, I reluctantly retired. Retirement was hard on me. The excitement of fun and work was gone. Sometimes I work with my wife in her flower garden and think of how unproductive I have become. But I still have dreams and aspirations of going on a proselyting mission. When it comes to pass, I will tell you about it in my journal.

Enemy Aircraft

This incident took place during the Korean War, in 1950. Our tank company, the 6^th Heavy Tank Battalion, along with the 24^th Infantry Division, was traveling northward to reach the 38^th Parallel, which divides North Korea from South Korea. North Korea is a communist county that invaded South Korea, and had taken all but a small portion of South Korea.

As we traveled northward that day, we encountered little enemy resistance. The infantry troops would ride on our tanks, maybe 15 on each tank. They were supposed to clear the road one mile on each side by walking through the brush to ensure no enemy troops were in the area. But they never got off the tanks. We traveled along the road, and a lone piston driven enemy fighter plane appeared out of nowhere. He then began shooting at us. He came in low. One of the kitchen trucks had a 50 caliber machine gun mounted next to the driver on one of our trucks next to the driver seat. There was no roof on the truck, so the gun could rotate 360 degrees. One of the cooks manned the gun and would shoot at the plane point blank, face to face. That plane had six 50 caliber machine guns to one. That took some courage. The infantry had dismounted from our tanks and spread out along the road and up the hillside. After the plane made a pass, it would turn and come at us again. Everyone that had an M-1 rifle, a pistol, a carbine, a burp gun, or a slingshot was shooting at that plane. The third pass the plane made was its last. There must have been 200 soldiers shooting at that plane. I saw a puff of smoke come from the plane, and it crashed. A loud cheer came from the troops. It was exciting. War can be dangerous, and it can also be very exciting. It was almost fun shooting at such a large live target, and it was good for our morale to bring it down.

Relocate

In 1987, I was driving down the 405 Freeway, thinking about Harley Davidson motorcycles, when a thought came into my mind that I should move out of Los Angeles. I really didn’t want to move. I nearly had my house paid for, the taxes were $150 a year, no charge for trash pickup, and I was three miles from my work. But the feeling persisted, and I made it a matter of prayer. Then I told my wife to look for a place to move in North Los Angeles County. She protested, and said she had gotten her house fixed up the way she wanted, and she was not going to move. I said ok, but I knew her curiosity had been aroused.

She said, “Where shall I look?” and I said, “Just drive north. You’ll find it.” And she found a place off of Hasley Canyon, on Gilmour Rd in Castaic. But she said, “We can’t afford it.” And I said, “That’s ok. We’ll buy it anyway.”

We moved into the Valencia 2^nd Ward. Then Castaic Ward was organized, and Larry Wood was called to be Bishop. I was serving as Priests Quorum Advisor, which I really enjoyed because we did everything I like to do. Our activities included bike riding on the beach path from Santa Monica to Redondo Beach, driving Malibu Grand Prix race cars, and going to the drag races.

Bishop Wood found out about how much fun I was having and called me to be second counselor in the Bishopric. But that also proved to be fun. I was always amazed at his awareness. He was on top of everything. He could handle anything the world threw at him. In our Bishopric meetings, we would take turns discussing the scriptures. It didn’t matter what scripture we studied, he could talk three days on each one.

When I was released from the Bishopric, I was called to be the Ward Librarian. Michael Johnson, who has Down syndrome, was called to be my assistant. He was a hard worker and very dependable.

I also attended the temple weekly. Bishop Huffaker kept me busy with Family File names that needed initiatory, endowments and sealing’s performed in the temple. It was a challenge because there were so many.

House on Montezuma

Bad Habits

I can’t remember how old I was, but I was quite young. I lived with my Aunt and Uncle Edith and Nelson Cane on their farm near Basalt, Colorado. My uncle was a professional cowboy, hired to ride the range, where ranchers sent their cattle to feed on the grass in the high country. He had 75 different cattle brands to identify. He would ride his horse 22 miles to get to the area where the cattle were grazing. He would then ride through the herd to check for sick or downed cattle.

One day, he bought a 1929 Chevy coupe with a horse trailer. He would load the two horses on the trailer, and we would all ride to where he worked. I enjoyed the ride in the old car. As we traveled up the winding dirt road, he would put it into second gear, and the gearshift lever would rattle and vibrate. I would then hang onto it. I loved to hear the engine labor and the gear noise the transmission made. It would often lull me to sleep.

One of my duties was to roll cigarettes by hand for him. I would take some cigarette paper and loose tobacco and roll it into a cigarette. I would roll 25 cigarettes for him and 20 for my friends and me. In the evening, we would smoke them. We looked forward to that each day. It was fun. It was like a reward. When I got older and entered the service, I never really continued the smoking habit, except in the evening after a successful day. It was like a reward. Some years later, when I joined the Church, I had to quit the habit. When you develop a bad habit it becomes part of you like a fabric woven in your body. But even now after a good day, I will take a toothpick and make believe I am smoking it.

Brigham

When I worked for the Road Department, they called me Brigham, after the Prophet Brigham Young. Because I was a Mormon, they thought that was appropriate, and the foreman used me as a threat against the crews. Occasionally, all the equipment operators and foreman would get together in an outlying district to discuss equipment and procedures. It would be an overnight affair. There was usually a lot of drinking and unruly conduct. The foreman would tell them to behave themselves or he would send Brigham with them.

They would say, “Oh no. Don’t send Brigham. He don’t drink and he don’t party.”

I was always happy not to go. Then I didn’t have to drive them home because they were all drunk. One day we were working in a hilly area. We looked down on many swimming pools. There was a lady that would sunbathe next to her pool without her top on. This caused some commotion among the crews.

The next day the foreman asked me, “What are we going to do about the sunbather?”

I said, “Don’t worry about it. She won’t be there today.”

“How do you know that?” he asked.

I said, “She knows we’re looking at her.”

We never saw her again. If there was a risky subject, they would ask me about it to get my opinion. Then they would razz me about my comments. But I felt comfortable with those guys. We were always kidding each other, and it was a fun place to work.

Crash Landing

I was serving as the Priest Quorum Advisor over the 17 and 18 year old boys. I think the year was 1993 and we were in the Castaic Ward. Someone invited us to go skiing at Big Bear Lake and spend some time in their cabin. One morning, we got up early and headed for the ski area. I had never been on skis before so I was given some preliminary instructions along with the other beginners. I spent most of the morning falling down.

Later they told me I was qualified to take to the slops. We went to the chair lift area and were taken to the top of a very high mountain, where everyone began to ski down. As I started down, I noticed my skis were crossed at the tips. I struggled and finally got them parallel. I started to pick up speed and I mean lots of speed. I thought, this is the closest thing to flying I had ever done. They failed to tell me in the ski class, you never ski straight down the hill. You are supposed to ski back and forth on the hillside to control you speed.

By now I was going way too fast and I was sure I would break the sound barrier. I was headed for the chair lift at the bottom of the hill. All the skiers were lined up to get on the lift. As they saw me coming, they made a large opening for me to pass through and they flashed the slow down sign at me. The ski instructor told us to point the skis inward to slow down. I tried that, but at this speed the skis were not paying attention to me.

I then realized I was running out of mountain and I could see the highway and parking lot below. I then noticed the snow bank and it was coming up fast. I hit it with full force and it threw me into the sky. At this point, I knew a crash landing was inevitable. I landed in the parking lot and skidded to a long painful stop. Just then the ski patrol lady showed up and asked if I was hurt. I told her I hurt all over. She asked if I could get up. I told her I could but I didn’t want to. I was tired from fighting those skis, trying to stay on the course, keeping my balance and remaining upright. We talked for awhile then she helped me up. When we got back home, my son Jon who was with us, told his mother about the trip. The very next day she took out more insurance and that is no joke.

Donuts

In 1950, I was serving in the Korean War. On occasion the kitchen crew would give us a treat. Sometimes they would make donuts for us to eat. At about 2 am, I was on inner guard duty, which meant I was near the kitchen. The baker had just completed making donuts and went off somewhere to sleep. I looked at the pile of donuts and they smelled so good. I tried one and it was still warm. I had never tasted anything that good! So I had several more. I couldn’t stop until I had eaten a dozen or more. The outer guard soon picked up the donut aroma and he came to investigate. He also helped himself to the donuts, among others. In the morning, there were no donuts to be found. When the company commander found out about the disappearing donuts, he was furious.

Sometime later, the baker said he would make us some more donuts. This time the company commander said he would assign a special guard to watch the donuts. I was assigned to watch the donuts. During the night, a friend of mine approached me and asked me for a donut. I told him if I gave him a donut, I would have to kill him. I had been given special orders to shoot and kill anyone who takes a donut. If there were not 200 donuts on the table in the morning, the donut guards would be held responsible and would be shot. In the morning there were 200 donuts on the table.

Home Teacher

I was living in the Highland Park Ward in the Glendale Stake in the 1980’s. My junior companion and I had many widows to home teach. We had orders from the Bishop to bring our work clothes, our tool box, a song book, and the sacrament tray when we made our visits. Whatever was needed, we provided. If the door didn’t open properly, we fixed it right then; if there was a gas leak, we crawled under the house, found the problem and repaired it. We sang them a song and administered the sacrament.

There was one very elderly lady that we visited. One day, the visiting teacher contacted me and said that she would be out of town for two months so would we look after the elderly lady. We made our visit the first month. That Sunday as we drove by her house, there was an ambulance there. We stopped to ask the driver what had happened. He said that the elderly lady had passed away. I asked if it was from old age. He said, “No. It was from malnutrition because she had no food in the house.”

When we told the Bishop, he was very angry. He told us we were supposed to look after her and we let her starve to death. He told us that if this was not a volunteer service, he would have fired us. He was very unhappy with us and he didn’t let us forget it. The next family that he assigned us to visit, he told us not to let them starve to death. I don’t think he really ever forgave us for the elderly lady’s death and can you blame him?

Temple Tour

Before the Los Angeles Temple was dedicated in 1954 or 1955, I was invited to attend an Open House with my girlfriend, Marilyn Peterson. I was not a member of the LDS Church at the time we took the tour. As we visited the various rooms, I was impressed.

After the tour, Marilyn, her parents and I went to their home. Someone had given me a new pipe with some good smelling tobacco. I lit it up and started blowing smoke rings. This drew a crowd. After a while, I got very sick so I went in the backyard and started to vomit. They saw me through the window. They whooped, hollered and laughed all the time pointing an accusing finger at me.

Not too long after that, I joined the church. Marilyn wanted to get married, but I felt strongly that this was not the thing to do. My feelings were from a spiritual source and I knew it was not to be. I didn’t know how I was to break off the relationship. The answer came the following Friday. There was a ward dinner and the missionary who had baptized me approached me there. He told me that when you have a problem, you are to see the Bishop. I said that I don’t take my problems to the middle man; I take them directly to the Lord.

Their advice puzzled me. I wondered how they knew I had a problem. As it turned out, during dinner I found myself sitting next to the Bishop. So I told him that I would like to talk to him. We went to his office and I told him about my feelings about not marrying Marilyn. He asked if that was a spiritual feeling and I told him it was indeed. He then told me that he would contact the ward where I should be attending church. Then he said that he didn’t want to see me around here again, “you jerk”. (He called everyone a jerk because he was a down to earth guy.) I liked him. I asked him what about Marilyn and he said he would take care of that. By the way his name was Bishop Schollack.

Many years later, I saw the Bishop at the Little Rock Peach Farm. He was coming towards me through a row of trees. For some reason, I did not want him to see me so I hid in the bushes. He walked up to where I was hiding and said, “Get out of the bushes, you jerk. You don’t have to hide from me.” He then proceeded to tell me about Marilyn. He said that she had been married and divorced four times.

A Near Fatal Mistake

During the war in Korea in 1950, our tank company had been engaged in heavy fighting for some time. We were all very tired. I was on guard duty. It was 2 am; I was exhausted, and kept falling asleep. My knees would buckle, and I would crash to the ground. This happened a number of times and was becoming quite painful. There were some nearby bushes and trees. I managed to hook my field jacket shoulder strap on the branch of a tree. As I hung there, I must have fallen asleep. Suddenly, I woke up and realized a figure was coming toward me. I tried to shoot, but I could not get my safety switch to release on the rifle. Try as I might, I could not get it to release. When you are on guard, you are supposed to holler out loud, “Halt, who goes there?” Then the passwords are exchanged. If the passwords are not correct, then you shoot. I did none of that. It was my error.

The next day I overheard the sergeant telling the captain, “If you go around checking on the guards at night, find out where Mathias is on guard and don’t go there, because he will try to shoot you.”

Utah Girl

One day I stopped at the Camp Eleven Prison for lunch. When I entered the facility, I noticed a 1966 Mustang with a Utah License Plate. When I went into the kitchen, there was a young lady standing beside the head inmate, Cook Harry. Standing with them was a preacher and a sheriff. I asked the second cook what was going on. He told me that Harry and the girl were getting married. They had been pen pals and they fell in love. I then asked what Henry was in for. The cook told me that he was in for murder. I asked who he had murdered and the cook told me it was his wife. Then I asked how it had happened. Harry and his wife had been drinking and they were playing Russian Rolette with his six shooter, and he won. I asked how much time he had and he told me eleven years. Then the cook told me that Harry only had to serve seven years and his time was about up. I asked how he was to work with and the cook told me that he always tries to be nice to Harry. He said that there are a lot of meat knives around here and I don’t want him parting my hair. He claimed that Harry had a violent temper and had been in and out of prison many times. I knew Harry quite well, so the next time I visited the facility, I talked with him. I reminded Harry that I had been there when he married that girl from Utah. I asked if she was a Mormon. He told me that she was. I said that the Mormons could be very strict and I asked if he had met her folks and told them that he was doing hard time. He informed me that they knew all about him, they had accepted him as one of the family and had forgiven him for his past mistakes.

I wonder if her parents will be so willing to forgive him when he does their daughter in. I believe in forgiveness. We have to forgive each other, but she will have to forgive him 70x70 daily if she lives that long. This is not a nice guy. Sometimes a little wisdom and prayer are required when making those kinds of choices. It is helpful to know a little about the person you are going to marry. Look at his track record. He is a killer. I know what you are thinking, don’t judge!

His Departure

This took place in 1980 in the Highland Park Ward, in the Glendale Stake. I was serving in the Bishopric and the Bishop was out of town, so I was acting Bishop. It was Fast and Testimony Sunday. An elderly gentleman stood up to bare his testimony. He suddenly gave a very loud penetrating cry. I had heard that same cry on the battlefield and I knew it signaled his departure from this earth. If you have ever heard it you will never forget it; It’s like nothing you’ve ever heard. We carried his body into the bishop’s office. His wife wanted me to give him a blessing to revive him. I explained to her that he had been called home but she insisted that I give him a blessing. So I simply blessed him in the name of Jesus Christ and left it at that.

Las Vegas Nevada

While my wife Leona and I were driving through Las Vegas on our way to her mother’s home in Hurricane, Utah, we stopped at McDonalds for a soft drink. As we approached the building, a hobo asked for some change. You may not be familiar with the word “hobo” but they are like homeless people that prefer to be called hobos, because it is a very distinctive title. I told him I would give him something on my way out. I had a pocket full of change. I put the change in one hand and a five dollar bill in the other hand. I told him what each hand contained. I then extended my arms, fists closed, fingers down and told him to choose either hand. He chose the five dollar hand. When I asked how he knew where the big money was, he said he was psychic. He then told me because he liked me; he was going to give me something that he gives to very few people. He took my right hand and gave me the hobo handshake. He told me that whenever I was in the hobo community and used that handshake, I would be immediately accepted.

The Ultimate Compliment

In 1953 I was stationed at Camp Irwin, CA where we trained soldiers to be tank crewman. Today it is a much larger fort. I had gotten myself in some kind of trouble and ended up in the goon platoon. One day while we were training the troops on the 90 mm cannons a friend of mine approached me and said, “We have a new guy in our platoon.”

I said, “What did he screw up to get in our platoon?”

“He didn’t screw up there was no more room in the other barracks, so they put him with us temporarily.”

“What’s he like?” I asked.

“He’s insane.”

“How do you know that?” I asked.

“It’s 115 out here and he’s got his long johns on.”

I said, “That’s just what we need, another goofy in our platoon.”

It turns out they were not long johns they were LDS garments. Apparently in them days the garments came down to your ankles. I met him that evening and he was very friendly and likable. The weekend was coming up and he asked what we did on weekends. We told him where we went and he said he didn’t drink or smoke or chase women and he didn’t feel comfortable in that atmosphere. He asked us for other suggestions, and he had his roller skates so we told him where the roller rink was. There was no swimming pool at our camp so we told him where the one in town was, where the museums and library were and suggested that he go to the recreation hall in camp. There were many pool tables there and they didn’t serve alcohol so he would be safe. We kind of sheltered him because he was so innocent. As time went by we really got to liking Willy. He was very cheery and easy to live with. One day the sergeant showed up at our barracks and told Willy that he had a place for him in the preferred barracks. To our surprise Willy said, “If you don’t mind sergeant, I would like to stay here with these guys, their real cool.” To us that was the ultimate compliment. And you know we took real good care of Willey after that. I became a member of church many years after that.

Enemy Fire

It happened in Korea in 1950 at Inchon reservoir. The enemy had managed to surround our tank battalion, along with a number of infantry and artillery units. Our supplies were cut off and food was scarce. The captain called us together and advised us of the seriousness of our situation. He told the cooks that the tank crews were to eat first, before anyone else, including the cooks. A cook spoke up and asked if they had ever heard of a cook that starved to death. The captain said that he hadn’t. The cook then told him that he never will.

The paratroopers landed with supplies, food and ammunition. We then fought our way free. Sometimes people would ask me if war was always frightening. I tell them that it wasn’t in the heat of battle. The fear comes when you are pinned down under enemy fire. With their cannons and artillery guns, they are maybe five miles away. They are shooting at you indirectly but they know your location. They hurdle bombs at you all through the night. It is very nerve racking as those shells come closer and closer. After awhile you are hoping for a direct hit to put you out of your misery. This is when you become acquainted with fear and the stress of war. Then you have to identify someone in your unit that has been killed and you didn’t necessarily like him. Maybe you had not treated him as kindly as you should have and he now lies dead at your feet. Then you become acquainted with sorrow and regret and tears will fill your eyes.

Just Girls

In 1949, I was stationed at Fort Hood, Texas. I was assigned to the 6^th heavy tank battalion, 2^nd armed division, Charley Company. I was 17 years old. The company commander was Captain Landers. He was like a father to me. We would often see each other on Sunday in church, during the mass. One of the things I liked to do was to go swimming in the pool on the base. It was a great pool and there were very few people there. Two girls were often there getting a suntan. I got acquainted with them and we would talk for hours.

One day the Captain called me to his office and asked if I knew who those girls were that I always talked to at the pool. I told him that they were just girls. He then told me that they were ladies of the night and to be careful. They may have been ladies of the night but they never mentioned it to me in any shape or form. They had never invited me to their place of business and they were always very proper with their language and manner. They were just nice girls. We talked about their school years, hobbies, family and their new convertible car. I had mentioned that they must work nights because they were always there during the daytime. They admitted to working nights and owning their own business. Then they said that they had to go but they hoped to see me there next time. I told them that I hoped so. They may have been prostitutes, but to me they were just girls and not much older than I was.

On the Road

Before we left for Korea, we were given two weeks leave. I immediately left Fort Hood and headed for Colorado to visit my relatives and say good bye. One morning about 10 am, I arrived in Aspen, Colorado. I went to my favorite cousin’s house. My Uncle Nelson and Aunt Edith were not home. I told my cousin Leona Cain that I was very hungry. She said all they had was bread, milk and eight frying pan size trout. She fried them and I ate them all. I then told her she looked cute with her freckles. She told me to try wearing them and I wouldn’t think they were cute. Anyway I had to leave. We hugged and kissed good-bye. It was a very long kiss good bye. Then I headed for the west coast and arrived in Los Angeles a few days later. I stayed with my mother and dad and I visited my girlfriend. Soon it was time to go back to camp. Every Saturday, we would meet with the local farmers in one of their fields to play baseball and eat chicken and grits. They were real down to earth folks. After the game, they would say, “You all come back, ya hear?” Then we would all hug and kiss. One time when we were saying good bye, this elderly lady that had no teeth, grabbed me and kissed me on my mouth. I mean my girlfriend never kissed me like that. That is one kiss I would like to forget.

Close Call

After I was discharged from the service, I returned to Colorado to work in the Logging Industry. For the summer, I operated a bulldozer. After the trees were cut, I would wrap a steel cable around the logs and pull them to the saw mill. There they would be cut into lumber to be used in building houses. It was a great job but it was quite dangerous, not only in the forest, but also in the barracks. Most of the workers were young and we all carried guns. Occasionally a mouse would come out of a hole in the wall and everyone would draw their pistols and shoot at it. One evening while we were in the barracks, one of the guys was practicing his quick draw. As he returned his pistol to his holster, it fired. The bullet went down his leg and out the ankle.

One day as I was traveling down a narrow dirt logging road, the push blade on the front of the dozer clipped a tall pine tree. Leaning against the pine tree was a dead tree of equal height that became dislodged and came right for me. The dozer had no safety canopy or roof, so I jumped off and tried to run out of the way. The bushes were so thick that I could not move. As I looked up to see that the tree was half way down, I thought too bad it has to end this way. Luckily under the brush was a large tree that had previously fallen from old age. I crouched down next to it just as the falling tree landed above my head. I then heard my fellow workers yelling that the tree had landed on Leo and it was a direct hit. They said they were sure I was a goner. After hearing all that, I thought maybe I was dead. They took their axes and started chopping the limbs around the tree, where I was buried. Finally I was able to crawl out. The workers wanted to know why I hadn’t let them know that I was alive. I told them it was because they had convinced me that I was dead and I was too frightened to speak.

I worked there until the snow got so deep that I could no longer locate the logs. The boss told us that if we couldn’t bring in enough logs to keep the mill going, we would have to shut down the operations until the next summer. As the snow got deeper and deeper, I headed for California. When I arrived in Los Angeles, the sun was shining bright, the birds were singing and there wasn’t any snow.

Shooting Stars

In 1953, I was stationed in Camp Irwin, California. I was assisting in training, along with the Captain. We trained soldiers to become tank crewman. We traveled around in a jeep. One day, we got word that a General was coming to visit our camp and to observe our training techniques. We were very eager to please him.

Our tank unit was out in the desert training when he arrived. It was late in the afternoon. He was supposed to stay with us overnight, but he did not have his sleeping bag. The Captain told me to drive him to camp and find a bed for him, and see to his needs. I was to bring him back early the next morning. After I picked him up, we left camp. Somehow, I became disoriented. There were so many dirt roads, heading in every direction. I picked one that was going north.

We traveled for some time when the General said to me, “I didn’t think we were so far from camp.”

I said, “They are out there a ways yet.” I was thinking to myself, here we are in the middle of the Mojave Desert; I have no idea where the tanks are located, I am not even sure I am going in the right direction. There are no road signs, it is so dark that I can’t see any landmarks, and the General is starting to feel uneasy. But I kept driving like I knew where I was going.

Then all of a sudden, I thought I saw a tracer bullet heading our direction. It was very high and flew over our heads and disappeared into the night. The General said, “What was that?” and I said, “It must be a shooting star.”

The jeep we were in was closed on the sides with a canvas cover. It had plastic windows, and the vision through the plastic windows was distorted. Then I realized where we were. The tanks were north of us and we were in the target area. The tank gunners were shooting to zero in on their targets with their 30 millimeter machine guns that were mounted next to their 90 millimeter cannon, and they were using tracer bullets that glow in the dark. Just then, another tracer flew over. It was very high. The General then said, “Another shooting star.” I said, “Yes, we can see a lot of them our here, especially in this area. And they all look so close.”

The road now went in a northeastern direction. We came to a rather steep hill. When we reached the top, we could see all the tanks lined up on the firing line. As we drove into the tank area, the Captain was there to greet us.

The General then said to him, “You have a great jeep driver. At times, I thought that he was lost, but he knew exactly where he was going. He really knows this desert.” The Captain then smiled at me and said, “Good Job.”

Troop Train

On our way to Korea, we traveled by train to San Francisco. While in route, my name came up to pull K.P. (kitchen patrol). I reported to the kitchen car where they had temporarily set up butane stoves. Both of the sliding doors of the car were wide open and we were in a hilly part of the country. I had just completed peeling two sacks of potatoes that sat in two ten gallon pots. The cook then asked me to wash some pots and pans. A few minutes later, he came over and asked me where the potatoes were that I had just peeled. I told him they were in the middle of the floor between the two open doors. He said that he did not see them and asked if I saw them. They were gone. He asked if I thought that they had jumped off the train. I told him that I did not know but they were gone. We quickly peeled two more sacks of potatoes.

The train took us through Los Angeles and it made a brief stop in the train yard. This is where my father worked as a railroad worker. I looked out the window and saw the street that I lived on. Our house was two blocks away. I thought I would like to run home for a few minutes. Luckily the train moved on and the temptation was gone.

Then we traveled to San Francisco and boarded a troop ship. We went under the Golden Gate Bridge and out to sea. I was sea sick for thirty days. I had lost so much weight that my own Captain didn’t recognize me and asked if I was Mathias. When we arrived on the shore of Korea, our tanks were two weeks behind us. I was so eager to get off that ship; I volunteered to go to the front line to fight with only my 45 army pistol. That was impossible because I was with a tank company. There were only 35 miles of South Korea that had not been captured by the North Koreans. It was called the Pusan Perimeter. I was once offered a trip on a cruise ship and politely declined.

13-5

I suppose I should explain how the prison system works in regards to using the inmates to assist us in our duties. These inmates that work with us are called trustees. They have served most of their prison time and they do not want to jeopardize their release by doing something foolish, like running away. We also train some to fight fires. They travel in trucks, twelve to a crew. They are identified by marking numbers on their trucks like 12-1, 12-2, 12-3, and so on. The female inmates are in trucks that are marked 13-1, 13-2 and so on up to as many as 5 or 6 crews. The 13 indicates what prison camp they are from and the number after the dash indicates what crew they are with.

I was on my way to prison camp 13, which is a female facility, with 35 sacks of cement. When I arrived the 13-5 crew were there to meet me. Their leader told me that I was not allowed to help them unload the cement. The inmates then lined up to carry the cement sacks about ten feet away to the storage area. The first one approached the truck with arms stretched out. I explained that the sacks weighed close to 100 lbs and they had better carry them on their shoulders. She stood there with her arms stretched out so I put the sack of cement in her arms. They both crashed to the ground. Then they realized that the sacks were too heavy for one female to carry, so two were assigned to each sack. As they walked away, they dropped it and sent up a huge mushroom cloud. All the others got the giggles. They giggled and giggled. Finally they got all the giggles out. They then put three inmates on each bag, but they soon tired out and had to take a break. It took them three hours to unload the cement. A male crew could have unloaded that cement in 15 minutes. As I left, I looked at the storage area and most of the bags were broken. This was not their cup of tea. I then went into the office to complete the paperwork. The inmate behind the desk was somewhat teary eyed. I asked her what was wrong and she said that she was having a bad day. She said her daughter was ill at home and needed her. Then she told me that her son was graduating from High School and she would not be there. There were a lot of tears in that office.

Psycho

One day I was working with an inmate crew at the Los Angeles County Fire Facility in Pacoima. This is where the heavy firefighting equipment, like bulldozers and water dropping helicopters are kept. I was working with an inmate they called Psycho. There was a disabled truck that we had to move out of our way. I took the crew truck, hooked a chain on the rear of the crew truck and also to the front of the disabled truck. I told Psycho to steer the truck and to stop when I stopped. I started pulling him but when I stopped; he didn’t and he ran into the back of my truck. It smashed the grill on his truck and I was hopping mad. I asked him if that is why they call him Psycho. Then I said because you are a Psycho He looked at me in disbelief and I could see that I had stripped him of his last bit of hope. He was devastated and he hung his head down in despair. Realizing my mistake, I tried to change my remarks to something positive. It was to no avail. He was mortally wounded as he turned and walked away. There was a tear in his eye and it was a sad day for both of us.

No Keys

One day I had an inmate crew and we were supposed to do some work in one of the shops. When we arrived I discovered I had forgotten the keys to the shop. I told the crew to stay in the truck because we couldn’t get into the building. One of the inmates told me to get the crew off the truck and he would open the door. I did so and when we got to the shop, the door was open. I asked how he managed that with no keys. He told me he didn’t need keys, he was serving time for burglary.

Temple Buddy

When I was serving in the Los Angeles Temple, I had a friend who was fun to be with. We kidded each other, laughed and had a good time. One of the Temple Patrons overheard me call him Brother Worthless. She was appalled, said I was insensitive and owed him an apology. He took advantage of the situation and told her that I made him feel bad daily and sometimes he was almost reduced to tears. She reported me to the Temple authorities and they told me to knock it off. The Patrons do not know when you are kidding.

Pen Pal

This episode started during the Korean War in 1950. A friend of mine in our tank company had a pen pal in Los Angeles. They wrote each other often. She sent him a picture of herself, and he would show us her picture and say, “I’m going to marry that girl someday.” However, he was gunned down and is laid to rest.

About that time, I was due to be rotated back to the United States. When I arrived in Los Angeles, I called her up. Her name was Katie. I told her I would like to meet her and tell her about her pen pal who would not be coming home. She said she would meet me on Friday evening at 7 o’clock, at the corner of Manchester and Main in Los Angeles. Her sister would be with her. They would then take me to their home to introduce me to their father. Her sister would tell their father that she knew me in high school and she would vouch for my character.

They were an Italian family and her father was very strict. Katie and I became very good friends. She was a lot of fun. Sometimes we would go on my motorcycle dirt bike in the hills and ride up the long, steep grades. As we did so she would stand up on the rear pegs and pull back on my shoulders. This would bring the front wheel up off the ground, and when we got to the top, the bike was almost vertical. The people watching would be amused and she also enjoyed it.

We took short trips, and one of our favorite drives was on Highway 126 to Venture and up the coast. It’s still my favorite today. Sometime after the Korean War, it was improved and dedicated to the Korean War Veterans. I like that. When I travel this road, many memories of the war creep into my mind. I think of those who did not come back, and how they would have enjoyed this ride.

Occasionally, I would take a friend of mine named Ron with me when I went to visit Katie. He would date her sister. One morning about 2 am, we were coming home from our dates. We were headed north on Alameda and stopped at a red traffic control light. A car pulled up next to us, but not all the way. We could only see the hood. He raced his engine. Ron said, “This guy wants to race.” So I raced my engine, indicating I was ready. The light turned green and we were off. He stayed with me for a while. Then I pulled ahead. All of a sudden red lights flashed. Ron looked back and told me to back off because we were racing the law.

When we pulled over, the officers approached us and wanted to know what we had under the hood. I drove a 1948 Ford. The guy I bought it from had built up the engine for racing and it was fast. We started talking about cars. Then they told us about some hot rods they were building at their homes. We talked for some time.

Finally the officer said, “We have to go. We are not going to give you a speeding ticket this time, just a warning. You boys know you are not supposed to be racing in the streets.” We knew what these guys really wanted was a little car fun.

Blind

It was 1990 and I was working at the County Fire Facility in Pacoima, near the Whitman airport. One morning I jumped on the forklift but it would not start. The engine turned over but it would not start. I called the Mechanic department because they were responsible for our mechanical needs. I asked for a mechanic and they said they would send someone out. Soon after they arrived and one of them had a white cane with a red tip. They approached me and introduced themselves. The man with the white cane said, “I am Mike and I am blind.” I asked myself if this was some kind of a joke. Whoever heard of a blind mechanic? Mike spoke up and asked what we were looking at. I said a forklift and he asked if it was gas or diesel. After I told him it was gas, he felt around for the gas cap and when he located it, he removed it. He took a rag from his pocket, pushed it into the gas tank about half way and pulled it out. He ran his fingers over the wet part of the rag and told us that someone had put diesel fuel in the gas tank. He said we had to drain the tank and put fresh gas in. They did that and it started right up. I asked Mike why I had never met him before. He replied that it was because he was the automatic transmission man and he stays mostly in the shop. I told him that I had an automatic transmission that needed work and asked if he could repair it. “Sure” he said. “Bring it to my house and I will work on it at home in my shop.” He then gave me his address.

One evening, I took it over to his house. It was late and dark. I made my way around to the back of his house, but it was so dark that I could not see anything. I called out his name and he said, “I am over here.” When I told him that I could not see him, he apologized for not turning on the yard light for me. He told me that he forgot that other people need light. I put the transmission on his work bench and asked him what car he was working on. There were cars everywhere, but he said that he was working on his race car. I asked him if he races. He told me that he doesn’t really race but the guys he works with take him out on occasion. They take him out to the desert dry lakes and let him race while they sit next to him and act as his eyes for him. He races across the dry lakes and scares them to death. He told me that he really enjoys racing around.

We talked for a while and then he said, “Come in the house and I’ll introduce you to my wife. The T.V. was on and she was listening to it. She was also blind and the only light in the house was the glow of the T.V. I kept bumping into things and I was thankful when I finally got out of there. A few days later Mike called to tell me that my transmission was ready. He said that he would bring it to work with him and I could pick it up there. I arrived at his workplace the next day at noon. Mike was sitting in the corner, facing the wall, eating his lunch and surrounded by transmissions. I asked him why he was in the corner facing the wall. I told him it didn’t look right. He asked me which way he should turn to be facing the right way. I told him to turn his chair around and he thanked me. I paid him and took the transmission home and installed it in my car. It worked fine.

Hard As Nails

Hard as nails was the way I viewed farm women in my early days. Everyone was intent on survival. Life was hard, and they were harder. The way they displayed love and compassion was to send you out to the field to work. They were all trying to prove they were as good as men. They were serious competition. My Aunt Edith was a champion potato picker in the valley. She could out pick any man. She was good and she was fast. You may accuse me of exaggeration, but this was a little boy’s view. I am sure my mother would have given me the love and compassion I needed, but she was in a sanitarium in Arizona with tuberculosis. When I was young, I was in Grand Junction, Colorado. It was Easter Sunday, and I was in attendance at St. Joseph Catholic Church. What I saw there was unbelievable. There were women with beautiful dresses, hats with veils, white gloves that came up to their elbow, and high heeled shoes. I stared in disbelief at their beauty. They were real ladies.

Stoned

When I was quite young I lived with my grandparents, Joe Dossigny on their farm in Colorado. They were quite old and were no fun. All they knew was work. They had never heard of the word fun; however my grandfather had seen one silent movie and it must have been a comedy. He would tell me about it and then he would laugh and laugh. That one movie lasted him all of his life. The only way I could get to the movies was when my cousin Irene, who was older than I, was asked out on a date. She would say that the only way she would go out with the guy is if her little cousin Leo could come along with them. That did not happen often and it was a long ways to the movies.

I had many chores and duties. One of my favorite was to fill my grandfather’s gallon jug with wine. When it was empty, I would take it to the wine cellar where there were many 55 gallon oak barrels. He made his own wine. The barrels all lay horizontally on racks except the one I was to draw from. It stood upright. On top, there was a two inch hole with a ¼ inch rubber hose dangling out of it. I was to suck on the hose until the wine would start to flow through the hose and into the jug. All too often I would suck on that hose way too long and would become off balance. I would struggle to get out of the cellar. It wasn’t too long after that when I was released from that duty and for no apparent reason. It was fun while it lasted.

Standing Tall

After a furious tank battle, the action had ceased about midnight. Battles can sometimes become confusing, especially at night. You don’t know until morning if you’ve won or lost. And our tank commander had decided to get off of the battlefield and hide out until morning. One of the tank crewmembers named Wolfinburger was sent up a dry creek bed to find a suitable location to park the tank. There are lights on the tank, but in the combat zone, we usually use only marker lights. These emit no light, but let you know if there is a vehicle or a soldier with a marker flashlight.

Wolfinburger found a suitable spot half a mile up the creek. He signaled with his marker lights for the tank to come up. The tank rolled forward slowly. When it neared its destination, we heard a loud scream that could be heard over the roar of the engines. The tank commander then broke radio silence and told the tank driver to hold a true course, not moving in any other direction. Wolfinburger was under the tank. It rolled to a stop.

We then figured out what happened. After Wolfinburger had signaled for the tank to come up, he sat down and leaned against a tree; with his legs stretched out he fell asleep. Then we rolled over him. A medical jeep that was nearby then broke radio silence and said, “We heard the noise of the tank followed by the screaming. We know your location and we are on our way.” They picked him up, laid him on a stretcher and drove into the night. We had not heard from him and we did not know if he was dead or alive. Sometime later, we got a letter from him in the hospital.

The letter said, “Don’t blame yourselves for running over me. It was my fault. Some good has come of it. When they fit me with my prosthetic legs, I asked them to jack me up four inches because I always wanted to be taller. They said that they could and today, I am standing tall at 6 feet, 2inches.

Curfew

A proud moment that happened in my life, took place in 1950 during the Korean War. We had fought the North Korean Army for many days and had captured the city of Seoul. After we had settled in for the night, I decided to try and find the Battalion Headquarters. I wanted to see if the mail had caught up to us. At that time, I was serving as the Company Mail Clerk. I was responsible for locating and picking up the mail. I left the company about 2100 hours. It was very dark. I wandered through the streets of Seoul looking for the mail. The MP (military police) stopped me and asked why I was on the street. I told them I was after the mail. They informed me that there was a curfew and NO ONE was allowed on the streets. Then they asked me for the name of my company. I told them it was “C”, Charley Company, the 6^th Heavy Tank Battalion, attached to the 24^th Infantry Division. They called my Company Commander and told him that one of his soldiers was out in the city after curfew. He was very upset and said that the soldier was looking at a Court Martial. He then asked who it was. When they told him my name, there was a long pause….. He then said, “Leave him be, I will take full responsibility for his actions.” The MP then informed me that I was the ONLY soldier in the army that had permission to be out after curfew.

Saturday Bath

On the farm in Colorado, we took a bath once a week on Saturday. We used a washtub that was about 36 inches in diameter and about 10 inches deep. We would fill it and put it on the stove to heat the water.

The girls would bathe first then when the boys turn came to bathe, we were supposed to fill the tub with clean water. But the creek was three blocks away and we had to carry the water in buckets. So many times we would elect to bathe in the same water that the girls had already used. There must have been at least an inch of crud on the top of the water. When we got in the water we were dirty and when we got out of the water, we were filthy. When I was younger, we didn’t always have to take our Saturday bath. We would just dust off really good. But as I got older, the world got sophisticated and we had to use water to bathe.

Blood Soaked

It was winter in 1950 in the Korean War. It was very cold and our winter clothing had not yet arrived. The enemy was well prepared for the winter weather. They had what we called Ruskie caps that the Russians used in World War II. They were similar to baseball caps made of canvas and they were fur lined and had a short bill and long ear flaps. There were strings attached which you could tie under your chin or in warmer weather you could tie them up at the top of the cap. They also had padded down filled jackets that were really warm. After a battle, we would look over the enemy dead bodies and take their caps, jackets and guns. I would often think of their mothers and the sorrow they would soon feel, and a tear would fill my eye. Hopefully, we would find some that were not all full of bullet holes or blood soaked.

We never bathed. My long johns were so crusted with black crud that they lost their warmth. One day, I found a stream and I broke the ice. Then I washed my long johns with no soap and hung them in a tree to dry overnight. I shivered all night. In the morning, they were frozen stiff and I wondered how I could get them on. I did manage to get them on. They were freeze dried I guess. To my surprise, they were dry. I had lice and crabs in the hair under my armpits. To get rid of the lice, we would soak our head in motor oil or cut off all our hair. We were good candidates for leprosy I always thought.

Harley Motorcycle

I guess we all need some kind of therapy to cope with Life’s stresses. Activity in the church has proven to be the best for me. Guidance and direction are easily obtained through prayer. But as my days dwindle down, I remind my wife, Leona that we are in the middle of winter; however I still find joy and relief in mechanical things. One of my needs is to have a Harley Davidson motorcycle. Although I have been somewhat overtaken with age, my eyes have become dim and I can no longer keep up with traffic on the highway, I would still love to have one in my garage. My wife wonders what I would do with it. I would start it up daily and listen to the roar and thunder of the engine. As the excitement filled the air, it would become therapy to me and I would begin to heal from life’s wounds. As I walk away, I would turn for one last look and say to myself, “Is this not a thing of beauty?” Not to worry, I have a number of Harley’s and I keep them all in my head.

Memorable Ride

This took place during the Korean War in 1950. I was in Charley Co. with the 6^th Heavy Tank Battalion attached to the 24^th Infantry direction. Our company had been on the front line in the combat zone for some time. The fight eased up and the captain told me to get one of the tank machine jeeps along with a driver and pick up the mail. Some miles below the combat zone as we headed south to get the mail, we got behind an American truck carrying soldiers. All of a sudden, the truck was being ambushed from a band of enemy soldiers, hidden in the grass, and they were shooting at the soldiers in the back of the truck. As this was going on, the jeep driver calmly drove around the truck that was being attacked. The driver then asked me if I would like to die gunned down by the enemy or in a jeep accident. I told him I would take the jeep accident. He told me to hang on because this decision almost proved to be fatal. He went down the dirt road at unbelievable speed. The road was slick because a light rain was falling. We skidded off the road numerous times, hitting the bank on both sides of the road. This was an open World War II Jeep, with no seat belts, and no roll bars. It was all I could do to stay in the seat. I began to think I had made the wrong choice, but after awhile he slowed down and regained composure.

We finally arrived at the mail headquarters after dark. There were tents and people were sleeping on cots. We found a flat spot on the ground near the mail tent. We laid down and put a blanket and our waterproof ponchos over our bodies. We were totally exhausted. A light rain had started to fall. The last thing I heard was someone asking, “How can those guys sleep on the ground like that in the rain?” We were used to sleeping on hillsides, in the tanks, under the tanks, in the mud, and in the snow. The ground was soft and we thought we were in heaven. In the morning, we picked up 6 mail bags and headed out. We drove for some time, but could not locate our tank company. We became concerned about going too far north, because we could easily go into enemy territory. There are no signs to tell you where the front line is. We did finally find our company and we were still alive.

Disneyland

At Wayside Honor Ranch in Castaic, there is an area where the inmates are trained to fight brush and forest fires. It has some Disneyland characteristics. The inmates have nicknamed it Disneyland. One day, I had completed my shift at the fire station and I was driving home, when my car broke down. I put on a vest that covered my badge and uniform markings and went to a nearby intersection to bum a ride home. As the cars would stop at the red light, I would look them over and select one I thought would give me a ride. I spotted a guy in a convertible with lots of tattoos on his arms. I pointed down the road and he motioned for me to get in. He knew I worked for the Fire Department because he saw my belt buckle that had the Fire Department initials on it.

As we traveled, he told me that he had fought a number of forest and brush fires. I asked if he happened to be trained at Disneyland. He told me that is where he was trained and he had a certificate to prove it. One more thing he said was that he had never been on a fire that they could not put out. We then swapped forest fire stories and he drove me all the way home.

A Lone Sniper

This incident took place during the Korean War in 1950. I spent one year in the combat zone. We were required to spend a year there, then if we had not been killed, we were routed back to the United States. We lost approximately 53,000 men in that war and I should have been one of them. Our unit had been pulled off the front line to regroup and rest. However, we were pestered by a lone sniper who was shooting at us every chance he got. One evening, one of the tank gunners got a compass bearing on his position. He was perched on a tree. The gunner jumped onto his tank and loaded his 90 millimeter cannon with a round of high explosives. The tank is armed with three types of ammunition; high explosives, armor piercing and phosphorous. He fired at the tree and all that was left was an eight foot stump. We heard no more from that sniper.

Pistol Packing Mamma

I was stationed at Fort Hood, Texas in 1948. I mostly got around the country by hitch hiking. In those days, soldiers were held in high esteem. One day as I walked onto the highway in my uniform, three cars stopped to pick me up. However, this one day I found myself on a lonely road with very little traffic. A lady stopped to give me a ride. As she drove, she shelled peas with one hand and drove with the other. I helped her shell the peas. I asked her where she was headed and she told me to the next town to pick up her kids. I told her that very few ladies that were traveling alone have stopped to pick me up. “You must be a very trusting person.” She said, “I don’t know how trusting I am, but I am not afraid of anyone, including you.” She wore a long flowing skirt that came to her ankles. She then lifted it up to her knees. She was wearing a leg holster and in it was a 44. It had a pearl handle and a short barrel.

One Thin Dime

I was living in Colorado on a farm with my Aunt Silvia and Uncle Sy when I was nine or ten years old. One day, three friends of mine walked to town, some five miles away to meet a rich friend of ours. He said if we would visit him he would buy us lunch. When we arrived he took us to the Bakery and bought a loaf of French bread for a dime. Then he cut it in four sections and gave us each a section. We asked for something to drink and he said what is wrong with ditch water. It is good to have friends with money.

Journal Entry

One Sunday as I parked my car in the church parking lot, prior to attending church services, I noticed an elderly lady walking across the lot. I recognized her as Sister Fenton from a neighboring ward. As she drew near, I gave her a wolf whistle. She was delighted and said it was worth a journal entry. The following Sunday, she even mentioned it in her testimony. Shortly after the incident, she passed away.

A Helping Hand

Every summer, my Aunt Edith and Uncle Nelson Cane, would stay in a small cabin high in the mountains above Basalt, Colorado. He was a range rider who looked after the cattle. By staying there, he was at his workplace. At night, I would take the car seat out of the car and bring it to the cabin to sleep on. It was a lonely place, not a fun place to be. All there was to do were chores. That’s where I learned to hate the mountains.

Occasionally, some of the cows would eat too much larkspur, which is a kind of blue flower that makes them crazy and unpredictable. They would come to the cabin and scare my aunt. My uncle would then come and take a white dish towel, waving it in front of them. They would charge at it, much like bullfighters do. He would lure it into the corral and shut the gate. In a few days, they would come to their senses and be ok.

I jumped on a railroad spike and ran it through my foot. It was serious enough to be taken to the doctor, some distance away. As we traveled down the road, we came to a hay wagon that had lost its wheels. Two horses pulled it. It had large, wooden spoke wheels. One of the wheels had come off. My uncle could have driven around it, but instead he took an axe from the trunk of the car. He then looked around in the forest and selected a tree that was six or seven inches in diameter and about twelve or fourteen feet high. He chopped it down and removed all the limbs, brought it over to the wagon, rolled a large rock under the axel, put the log on top of the rock, and slipped the log under the axel of the wagon. The farmer and he then pushed the wagon and lifted it up. It was a lever. The wheel was then put on and secured. The farmer then thanked him and said, “Good luck” It was customary to say good luck because everybody needed a lot of it just to survive.

I then questioned my uncle on why he took the time to help him. He said, “I could never leave him there alone. He needed help.”

Freight Train

This experience took place in 1990. My wife Leona and I traveled to Hurricane, Utah to visit her mother. She would stay for a while, and I would take the bus home. It was decided that we would leave the car with her to return home with. They drove me to St George so I could take the bus home. When I went to buy my ticket, I was informed that the buses were on strike and none were available. Leona and her mother had already returned to Hurricane. However, I managed to get a ride to Las Vegas with a building contractor. When we arrived in Vegas I saw the train station and decided to take the train the rest of the way home. I had to walk across the train yard to get to the station. There was a long train blocking my path. I noticed a flat car with a large ditch digging machine on it that took up most of the space on the car. I crawled over it and as I did so the train lunged forward, telling me that train was leaving town. I stayed on that train and it took me through parts of town that I never knew existed. There were many hobos along the tracks living in cardboard boxes and lean-tos’. I waved to them and they waved back. After all I was now one of them and I knew their secret handshake.

It was about 4 in the afternoon, just as it was getting dark. We had reached the California and Nevada state line. I could see gambling casinos in the distance, and then the train started to go eastward. I asked myself why are we going east. Then it dawned on me that there are some fairly steep hills ahead and the train is going around them. It was now getting cold and I only had a light jacket on. The train would pull over on a side track to let passenger trains go by. When we stopped, I would walk along the tracks looking for an open box car, but there were none. The car I was on was open and I had to stand. Many times I wished for a big cardboard box to shield me from the wind. At one of our stops, a train worker cheeked the wheels on the car I was on. I was standing right above him and said very softly “hello”. He looked up and said, “Where are you going?” I told him Los Angeles. He informed me that when this train gets to Barstow, it will head for Bakersfield and I will need to get off. We were still a distance from Barstow, but we were in a part of the desert that I was familiar with. Many times my kids and their friends would spend days riding motor cycle dirt bikes in that area. There was a full moon and I could also see the little girl’s grave. In the early days this was the 20 mule team route and apparently a little 3 year old girl died and was buried in the desert. Around her grave site, is a four foot high rod iron fence (six by six feet square). It was obvious this little girl was very loved. When you are traveling to Las Vegas from Los Angeles about half way between the two cities, you will see a sign that reads Razor Road. Take the dirt road to the right about 8 miles and you will come to a few trees about 3 miles or so and near the railroad tracks and south of the trees is the little girls grave. When you find it, you will also find a tear in your eye. It is a lonely place to leave a little girl.

By now I was exhausted and could hardly stand. Finally, the train stopped this side of Barstow. When I got off the train, I could see Highway 15 and the fruit inspection center that everyone has to stop at. It was about ½ mile away and as I started towards it, it started to rain. It didn’t rain long, but I was soaked and the ground was muddy. I struggled to get to the highway. I was so cold and exhausted that I could hardly move. At last I made it and I went into the office of the inspection building. The lady inside asked where my car was. I told her that it had broken down and I needed a ride to Los Angeles. On her desk sat a box of Hersey candy bars. She was selling them for her son who was in the

Freight Train (cont.)

Boy Scouts. She saw me looking at them and asked if I would like to buy one. I said I would buy the whole box. She was delighted because there were 24 in the box. I ate most of them right then. She then told me that she would see to it that I got a ride to Los Angeles. She had something to do with the tour buses. When a tour bus arrived, she asked the tour guide lady if there were any empty seats on the bus. The lady said they were full, but pretty soon another bus came along. The office lady asked again if there were any vacant seats on the bus. The lady said that there was one seat. The office lady told her to take me with her. The tour guide lady didn’t want to because I was all wet and muddy. The office lady told her that I would dry off and she needed to take me. I got on the bus and collapsed. Finally I got home.

Ditch Water

I was eight or nine years old, living with my Aunt Sylvia and Uncle Sy Dossigny in a farming community near Basalt, Colorado. It was not uncommon for our family friends and visitors to drink water from the same bucket.

Occasionally there would be a community dance. There would be maybe 200 people in attendance and a water bucket with a single cup would be placed near the door, for all to use. It was my duty to replace the water when it was empty. I would then fill the bucket with fresh ditch water that ran through the cattle corral. As I was standing near the water bucket, I was approached by a couple who asked if there were more cups. I said we have only one cup; so they would not drink from the bucket. They said there were probably germs. But I hadn’t seen any germs. After the dance I told my uncle about the incident and he simply said, “City Folks”.

Sometimes we would plow and fertilize the field around the water wells on the farm. A few days later the water in the well would be very high.

It was also fun for us kids to gather around the opening of the well and spit in it. The well was quite deep and when the spit hit the water it would make a loud noise, “Smack, Smack”, that would echo through the well. One day, my aunt and I were looking down at the water in the well and without thinking I spit. That proved to be a serious mistake.

Stew

One day aboard a ship when we were returning home from Korea, my name came up to assist the cooks in the kitchen or the galley as they called it. When I reported, the cook assigned me to stir the stew in the kettle. This was no ordinary kettle. It was about eight or ten feet in diameter, eight or nine feet deep and there was a long paddle or oar to stir with. It was the kind of paddle that you would find on a row boat with the same kind of swivel system and you would row like a boat. I sat on top of the kettle that was partially filled with water. The cook hollered at me and asked if I was ready. There was an overhead rail with containers attached to it. They were full of potatoes, carrots, tomatoes and stew meat. All at once they would get dumped into the kettle. When they came, they came really fast and I rowed like crazy. It was kind of fun, but I was constantly sea sick and often I would stop to barf. Most of the time, I managed to miss the kettle, but not always. It was very hot and the sweat poured off my body and found its way into the stew.

When the kettle had been emptied, the cook told me to clean it. I scrubbed it down and then took cold water and rinsed it out. The kettle became cool and I was very tired and sick. I climbed in and laid down and fell asleep. After awhile, I woke up and climbed the ladder to get out of the kettle. The cook asked me where I had been. I told him that I fell asleep in the kettle. He asked if I had a good sleep. He laughed when I said it was the best sleep ever.

P.S. I was once offered a ride on a cruise ship, but I said, “No, thanks!”

Spiritual Experience

Sometime in the late 60’s, I was working for the Los Angeles County Road Department. I was assigned to Mount Wilson on snow removal. We stayed there year round in the winter and we were on duty 24 hours a day. In our barracks, there was a bell that would ring when it started to snow. We would then hurry out to our snow plows to remove the snow off the road. But before we started our trucks, we would lift up the hood and remove the cats that were sleeping on the warm engines.

One month, I worked the whole month without a day off and I wanted to attend church. Finally I got a Sunday off, so I jumped in my car and started out. I had only gone a short distance when my car started to act up and lost power. I managed to get back to the yard and parked it in the garage. I lifted the hood and removed the air cleaner. I looked for a problem but found none, so I thought I would try again. But, when I got a little ways down the road, the same thing happened again. With lack of power, I returned to the garage, lifted the hood and removed the air cleaner from the carburetor. I then decided to make it a matter of prayer and asked for some help locating the problem. I was distracted for a moment because the sun was shining and reflecting through the window. There was a very soft glow and then something turned my attention in the direction of the engine compartment. My eyes focused on the carburetor. After staring at it for a long moment, I heard a click as the automatic choke baffles open on the carburetor. That told me where the problem was. They were not opening and the engine was not getting the proper air flow, causing it to lose power when the engine warmed up. After disconnecting the choke baffles I went to church and even sat on the front row.

William C. Rae

2011-08-30T17:36:00.000-07:00

This is what I've found on Wm. C. Rae and his first wife, nothing more on George and Jane Elizabeth Rae. Alexander died, never married, that I could find. William married Emily Bullock, but they never had any children. This is what I found on William and Emily. Jane Elizabeth Rae prob reared by some one else too.

George Coreman Rae 1870 –

Jane Elizabeth Rae 1873 –

William Rae 1877 – 1918

Alexander Rae 1879 – 1919

Excerpted from A Geneology of James Bullock and Mary Hill Latter Day Saint Pioneers by Kenneth C. Bullock

William was the oldest of 4 children. His mother died when he was a child. He was reared by Myron Newell, and spent his youth working on a farm in Vineyard, Utah. He received a limited education and attended the Brigham Young Academy for a short period.

When William was of age, he joined the Spanish American War, and served as a private. Upon his return home he went to Los Angeles, CA where he worked as a street car conductor. He married Emily Brown Bullock at Provo, Utah and was later sealed in the Salt Lake Temple. In 1918 William took ill with Influenza and soon died. He was buried at the Pleasant Grove Cemetery.

"Emily was born on Locust Avenue in Pleasant Grove, where she spent most of her life. she was quite ill as an infant, and required considerable care. She attended the schools at Pleasant Grove, and completed the Fifth Reader. At home she learned to help with the housework and with the farm work. When Emily was twenty years of age, she attended the Brigham Young Academy for a short period of time.

As a young lady she went to Provo to care for a relative. While working in Provo she met William Rae. They courted, and were marriied in Provo in 1910. shortly afterward they moved to California, and resided in Los Angeles, where her husband worked as a street car conductor. In 1918, her husband suddenly took ill and died of influenza. This was a great shock to Emily, who sorrowed for some time afterward. she returned to her parents home on Locust Avenue. she helped care for her parents in their declining years, and stayed faithfully by their sides until their deaths.

Because Emily had no children of her own, she devoted much of her time to others. Her sister became bedfast, and was brought to Emily for care. Emily nursed her sister for seventeen years, until she died in 1943. When Emily's brother, James Orson Jr. and wife both died, their sixteen year old son, Kayle, came to live with his Aunt Emily. Emily loved and treated him as her own son. Kayle remained with her until he married.

Emily loved all children and was friendly with all that came to her place. She would joke with the children, and usually gave them a cookie or other goodie or an apple. In 1954 she sold her property to the Pleasant Grove School District as part of the site for the new high school. She had a new brick home built upon her sister Jennett's property, where she resided until her death."

This is an excerpt from the book A Geneology of James Bullock and Mary Hill Latter Day Saint Pioneers by Kenneth C. Bullock

William descends from Albert (above) and Lucile Bullock, son of William Cumming Rae and Jane Gardiner.
I've seen Sara Wilkins family tree, but she has it kinda messed up, I haven't attemted to correct her. You might try contacting some of the people mentioned in the obit.
Mary

Obituary
William Bullock Rae, 94, of Orange, California, passed away on April 30, 2011. Survived by wife Helen, son William (Caroline) Rae, daughters Sara (Corman) Wilkins, Alta (Dennis) Costa, sister Beth Feller, 5 grandchildren, 5 great-grandchildren, and many nieces and nephews. Graveside Service with Military Honors presented by the United States Navy, Thursday, 11:00 am, May 5, 2011, Forest Lawn Memorial Park, Glendale, Californto correctia. William will be missed by many and be forever in our hearts.

Hello
received your message re: William & Elizabeth Rae. From what i can see, William Rae, son of William C Rae & Elizabeth(nee Stewart) , 1876-1918 married Emily Brown Bullock, 1876-1960, daughter of James Orson Bullock who was my husband's gr. grandfather. We have extensive info on the Bullock line. Let me know if you are interested. Good to hear from you

I only have info on William Rae, son of William C. & Elizabeth Stewart. I did trace his brother, Alexander Rae, but did not find evidence of a wife or children. I have not yet found anything on the other children of this couple. i.e. George Coreman b. about 1868, Jane Elizabeth, b. abt. 1870 & Nicholas b. 1872. I am in NJ and still recovering from Irene so as soon as things calm a bit i will get out the Bullock book and make your scan....Good luck hunting..

Gordon Low 1919 - 2011

2011-08-30T17:07:00.001-07:00

Gordon Morris Low (90) born 1919, Paris, Bear Lake County, Idaho. After a life of service died August 28, 2011. Parents: Morris David Low and Beatrice Lenore Gardiner, stepmother Myrtle Hoff Pendrey Low; Education: Elementary, Paris, Idaho, Montpelier High, University of Idaho SB, Pocatello, University of Utah BS, MS, University of Minnesota, PhD in speech pathology. Military 1942-45; 1st Lt. B24 bomber pilot, air medals, distinguished flying cross. Church: gospel teacher, scoutmaster, bishop's counselor, high councilor, bishop, stake president, temple worker, 30 years as stake patriarch; Missionary with wife California Anaheim Mission, 1984-1986. Profession: railroad telegrapher, teacher elementary school Bingham County Idaho. Taught at U of Utah, U of Minnesota, San Francisco State College, Brigham Young University. President of several organizations Utah Speech and Hearing Assoc., Utah Chapter Council for Exceptional Children, Provo School Board, Utah School Boards Assocation.

Family: Married Evelyn Stobbe 1948, Salt Lake LDS Temple (died 2008). Children: Laura Dene Low (Willard Card), Christie Ann Low (Jack Paris); Siblings: Myrle Low, Salt Lake City, Howard R. Low (died 1992), (Mona Bunnell), David Stewart Low (died 1996), (Chloe Berthelson), LaRee Billie Pendrey (deceased); Grandchildren: Card: Gwendolyn (deceased) Timnah (Jason Gretencord), Lance (Julie Hanson McNair), Miriam, Benjamin (Stacie Meacham), Rose (Jordan Faux), Christensen: Faith (Jonathan Leusden), Nathan, Rachael (Nick Ruccius), Elizabeth (James Wiley), Timothy, Esther (Christopher Swan), Mary. Paris: Melanie (Bryant Jones), Brandon (Aimee Brooks), Heather (Scott Davidson), Monica, Tracy (Jake Hague), Criekor. Great Grandchildren Card: Giddeon, Connor, Caleb, Sequoia, Margaret and Grace McNair. Christensen: Samuel, Ari, Olive, Audrey, Isiah, Sophia, Elija, William, Gertrude. Paris: Whitney, Kate, Ashley, Jane, Coleman, Titan, Shaymus, Audrey. With faith in God's plan of salvation, Gordon anticipates eternal reunion with ancestors and descendants in celestial relationships.

Contributions may be made to the Perpetual Education Fund of the LDS Church.

Funeral Services will be held Thursday, September 1, 2011 at 11 a.m. in the Edgemont 4th Ward, 4056 North Timpview Drive, Provo. Friends and family may call at a viewing held Wednesday evening from 6-8 p.m. at the Walker Sanderson Funeral Home, 646 East 800 North, Orem, or Thursday morning from 9:45-10:45 a.m. at the church prior to services. Interment will be in East Lawn Memorial Hills, 4800 North 650 East, Provo. Online condolences may be extended to the family at
www.walkerfamilymortuary.com.

2011 Robert and Margaret Gardiner Reunion

2011-08-23T12:28:00.000-07:00

Time: August 12 and 13

Location: Ward Building at 680 East 2nd Avenue, Salt Lake City

To order a copy of this book.
1. Email me your email address
2. I will send you a link to register with MyPublisher, so you get a discount
3. Write down the code they give you
3. I will then send you a link to view and/or order the book.
4. Order

Friday night we met, ate, heard two testimonies, and saw the following video:

Robert and Margaret from K on Vimeo.

Some enjoyed a Robert and Margaret Gardiner Coloring/Activity book:

Others learned about their ancestors by playing "Robert and Margaret Gardiner Guess Who?" using cards like these:

In the morning some went to Robert and Margaret's gravesite:

We did lots of neat Pioneer Activities:

2011 Gardiner Pioneer Activities from K on Vimeo.

We met relatives:

We saw a video on the lives of Margaret's parents:

Robert and Elizabeth from K on Vimeo.

We ate chicken just like Robert and Margaret:

After lunch we took a group picture:

Candy for dessert:

Then we saw Robert's actual candy molds and shown how they work. 1 minute video

Gardiner Candy, full version 10 minutes.

2011 Robert's Candy Molds from K on Vimeo.

Robert's Candy Machine from K on Vimeo.

At the end of the day some were still energetic enough to hold a family history meeting.

We met relatives, played, ate, watched and for a few minutes we thought about the rich heritage that is ours:

A few short videos:

Carol on Turkeys and Dresses from K on Vimeo.

Fred home teaches the Hitts from K on Vimeo.

2011 Carol on her Father from Deborah Gardiner on Vimeo.

Robert Gardiner's Death from Deborah Gardiner on Vimeo.

Ye Banks and Braes played by a Gardiner from Deborah Gardiner on Vimeo.

2011 "A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief" sung by a Gardiner from Deborah Gardiner on Vimeo.

Rachel Gedge Fromm 1894 -

2011-08-07T21:40:00.000-07:00

M	i	William David PRITCHETT^1, 2 was born 28 Jul 1837 in Chatham Hill, Smyth, Virginia. He died 22 Feb 1887 in Fairview, Sanpete, Utah.
M	ii	Leonidas Alfred PRITCHETT "Leo"^1, 2, 3 was born 14 Dec 1838 in Chatham Hill, Smyth, Virginia. He died 9 Jun 1888 in Eden, Weber, Utah.
M	iii	John Anderson PRITCHETT^{1, 2, 3, 4} was born 23 Sep 1840 in Chatham Hill, Smyth, Virginia. He died 21 Oct 1920 in Fairview, Sanpete, Utah.
F	iv	Nancy Emeline PRITCHETT was born 1 Jul 1842 and died 11 Jul 1884.
M	v	Thomas Mitchell PRITCHETT^1, 2, 3 was born 1 May 1845 in Chatham Hill, Smyth, Virginia. He died 11 Sep 1932 in Hurricane, Washington, Utah.
M	vi	Levi Franklin PRITCHETT^1, 2, 3 was born 8 Oct 1847 in Chatham Hill, Smyth, Virginia. He died 25 Sep 1883 in Mt. Pleasant, Sanpete, Utah.
M	vii	James Dekalb PRITCHETT^1, 2, 3 was born 7 Jul 1849 in Chatham Hill, Smyth, Virginia. He died 28 Nov 1914 in Mesa, Maricopa, Arizona.
F	viii	Rebecca Emily PRITCHETT^1, 2 was born 23 Oct 1852 in Chatham Hill, Smyth, Virginia. She died 13 Oct 1930 in Fairview, Sanpete, Utah.
M	ix	Douglas Jackson PRITCHETT^1, 2 was born 10 Dec 1858 in Chatham Hill, Smyth, Virginia. He died 21 Apr 1861 in Fairview, Sanpete, Utah.