by Ida Freeman Winter
taken from Family History of George Richard and Euphemia Jane Freeman (1990),
pp. 335-373, compiled by Glen R. Freeman
I was born 26 February 1895, of George Richard Freeman and Euphemia Jane Carter Freeman at #20 Market Place, Olney, Buckinghamshire, England. There were seven children born to that marriage; I was the sixth child and the second daughter.
Our house was on the town square and at an early age I remember Mother’s bedroom window overlooked the “market place”, or square, and we saw many sights from it. In the winter time, if we had snow, the boys made a long slide down the square. In good weather we watched the “Punch and Judy” show, (puppets); or a German band with the added attraction of a muzzled bear walking upright, its fat sides shaking; or the “hurdy-gurdy” (a music box on a stand), a handle was turned and tunes played. There was usually a tiny monkey dressed in a suit and cap. It would pass the cap around for money. We would throw some from the window and the little monkey would doff his cap to us. In the summertime, the “round horses” (merry-go-round) were on the square. I remember riding on the round horses with someone to hold me on. In the evening we watched the gas man light the street lamps and often saw him snuff them out in the morning. There were no telephones or electric wires to entangle anything tossed into the air.
I remember Mother telling me about a visit to Towchester. Mother, with we three youngest, Ernest, Bert, and me, went by carrier van, a covered horse drawn van, which carried everything from town to town. I was crying and the driver turned and looked around. Ernest, to prove his innocence and manliness, quickly said, “taint me mister, it’s that gal over there.” I must have been a cry baby. I well remember we three running along at Grandfather’s heels as we went with him to his work; his trouser flapping around his peg leg, his brass buttoned coat buttoned up to his chin and his`hard peaked railroad cap pulled down on his forehead. He was a signalman and had a signal box. We climbed the iron steps and looked with awe at the huge levers he pulled to shift the tracks for the trains. The levers were much, much taller than we were, and thick and heavy.
Ernest, Bert, and I were ill two Christmas holidays; one year with the measles and the next year with whooping cough. Ernest nearly always had a cough and I had bronchitis. I remember Father carrying me downstairs so I could sit by the fire and not be alone upstairs. One treat we had when ill was a soft boiled egg with toast strips to dunk in the yolk. Toast had to be made over the fireplace coals. I seem to have had a difficult start in life. Some time before I was weaned, Mother was unable to feed me. There was little to be had for infants. My diet was Dutch rusk (zwieback) soaked in warm water and sweetened with a little sugar. Milk was not plentiful and was purchased in small quantities, when available. I survived.
Vaccination was quite new while George and Jane lived on East Street. Harry and Annie were vaccinated arm to arm method. They both had very bad arms and were quite ill, Annie had three large vaccination scars on her arm. Father was quite upset. When Alf was vaccinated Mother moistened her handkerchief with saliva and wiped his arm clean. Father and Mother did not want another bad arm and sickness. In spite of knowing his mother nearly lost her life from smallpox, and her face was completely scar covered from the disease, Father declared he would not have another child vaccinated. When it was time for the next child, Wilford, to be vaccinated, Father refused to have it done. The authorities insisted but the answer was no, and he refused to pay the fine. The authorities entered the house, took furniture and other items out to the square to be sold to pay the fine. No one would buy any of the articles. Everyone was against vaccination or the suffering caused by vaccination. The articles were returned to the house and the matter ended by giving people a choice to be vaccinated or not. None of us other children were vaccinated.
My sister, Annie, was my private baby sitter. On good days she wheeled me about in the “pram” (baby buggy) and usually found a flower, ro something, to put in my bonnet. When I was carried to the depot by my “special missionary,” Annie went along to bring me home. I must have been a trial to her at eleven years of age, but she never complain.
School started at age four. It consisted mostly of baby tending and training, giving mothers a chance to do their load of work without children underfoot. Everything at home was done by hand, and housework was hard. Hand laundry for a family was difficult and bad weather, very often, made it hard to dry clothes.
My schooling was intermittent because of colds and illness. The schoolhouse was almost two buildings back to back — one side for the boys, and one side for the girls. Separate entrances and a high wall separated the playgrounds. There was no association of boys and girls. We had reading, writing, and sums (arithmetic) and some drawing. We did not have paper for writing or drawing, we used a slate and slate pencil and damp sponge to clear our slates. Paper and pen and ink were used in higher forms (classes) and higher ages and by those able to write better. I still have my slate. A piece of slate (England has much slate) set in a frame of wood, the whole measuring eight and one-half by six and one-half inches. My teacher was Miss Rivis. The boys had a schoolmaster (men teachers). We went home for lunch and home for the day at 4:00 p.m.
We were the only LDS family in Olney so we had no Sunday School or meetings. We went to the Baptist chapel to Sunday School. They were very strict and we had to be quiet. After Sunday School I sometimes accompanied Father to the bakery for our Yorkshire pudding. The huge oven was full of puddings. The baker always knew which one was ours and pulled it from the oven on a long-handled, wooden spatula. It was always done just right, the roast still bubbling from the heat. Always a “joint” of meat (roast) for Sunday dinner and Yorkshire pudding. Sunday evening was spent around the fireplace singing and listening to Bible stories.
Sunday afternoons, in good weather, we went for a walk to the meadows. The fields of grass were full of daisies, buttercups and many dandelions. The fields were separated into private sections by hedges which were often full of blackberry bushes. Late summer we gathered blackberries, pulling the high branches down with a forked stick. Our mouths and hands were stained, I think we ate more than went into the container we had with us. We made daisy and buttercup chains to hand around our necks, played with little green, wingless grasshoppers, or gathered “quakers” on Clifton Hill. Quakers were grasses with little brown knobs, or flowers, which quivered with every movement or breeze. The River Ouse ran through the meadows and we often looked for fish, gathered forget-me-not flowers along the banks, or made boats from reeds to sail on the water. On a visit in 1956, I was disappointed when I could find no quakers on Clifton Hill. The hill seemed steeper than I remembered it.
This little song I was taught to sing to my doll, Mabel.
Mabel you’re a naughty girl,
For you hair is out of curl,
And you’ve lost your little shoe,
Mabel what must I do with you!
Our bedrooms were cold and the bed sheets icy. Father or Mother warmed our beds with a warming pan, a copper pan with a lid and a long handle. A few coals from the fireplace were put in the pan, the lid fastened, the pan was run between the sheets, making the bed toasty warm. (It came along with us to Utah and was sued during the wintertime.) The stove was not easy to get hot coals out of and soon hot bricks were used in the bed. A candle lit our way to bed. Matches were expensive and not always available so “spills” were used to light our candles and lamps. Spills were made by rolling a square paper into a tight roll starting at one corner and then turning the top over so it would not unroll. We always had a container full on the mantle shelf. We children made them.
Christmas was a special time. Our tree was small and grew in a tub outside. It was brought into the house at Christmastime. It was trimmed with special and various shaped biscuits, clear, hard, animal shaped sweets, bonbons, and fancy flat sweets with a pretty paper picture on one side and tinsel on the ends to hang them by. Oranges were around the bottom of the tree. Christmas Eve we hung our stocking over the foot of the bedstead and in the dark of the early morning crept out with our stockings to find what “Father Christmas” left for us: biscuits, sweets, a variety of nuts, an orange, an apple and perhaps a small gift. Christmas dinner was always a feast ending with Mother’s plum pudding (boiled in the copper) and tiny mince pies. In the evening, Uncle Tom, Aunt Annie and our cousins came to be with us. What fun we had drawing a treat from the tree. Each article was numbered and a duplicate number put in a bag, we each drew a number and as Father cut items from the tree he called out the number and the holder went up and claimed the gift. In later years one cousin wrote to me about Christmas at our house, to quote “a present for everyone.” The evening was spent singing carols, eating orange quarters, biscuits, nuts and sweets.
Baking was done at a bakehouse located a few doors along the street. Bread was delivered at the door daily and milk was measured and sold in small quantities at the door. A fishmonger came around almost daily with deep sea fish and the butcher shop was a few doors across the square. The small built-in stoves, did not allow for home baking. Boiling was done in a pot hung over the open fire, or in the copper.
We had many missionaries in our home over the years (Mother remembered only one lady missionary, a sister Brimhall) and if any missionaries found themselves within walking distance they came to stay with us. One time two elders came to stay. They said, “Sister Freeman, we think this time we have not brought you any fleas. We have bathed and changed all our clothes.” After they left Mother put one of her white blankets on the floor and shook the bedclothes over it. The fleas were n the blanket and were caught: they were unable to jump on the wool blanket. Fleas abounded at that time. It was a constant fight to keep free of them. They loved the thatched roofs. The elder’s favorite subject, besides the gospel, was to talk about home, usually Utah, and the opportunities for young people. Mother’s youngest sister, Sarah, had immigrated to Utah and married. Now her husband needed someone to help him on his farm. Would Father and Mother let one of the boys come to them? The idea was dismissed. Then one of the missionaries said his brother could use a boy to help him around the farm. After a long and hard struggle, it was decided Harry (eighteen years old) should go to Aunt Sarah and Alf to the missionary’s home town and his brother. Alf (fourteen years old) was sturdy but not too tall for his age. The boys sailed from Liverpool on the ship “Commonwealth,” 23 May 1901, under the care of returning missionaries. The voyage went well. Harry enjoyed the company of some girls on the ship. Alf found his own interests. Harry arrived in Smithfield and found a warm welcome. Alf went to Wellsville and found life quite rough and was not treated too well. It was good that Father and Mother did not know of Alf’s plight. In the eyes of converts missionaries were perfect, and Zion an almost perfect place to live.
One day Father come into the house and said, “We are going to Zion!” Surprised, Mother said, “Where will you get the money?” Then the story came out. Our neighbor on the south, owner of a drapery shop, wished to enlarge his shop and add furniture and other merchandise. He would need a place for storage. Our place being next door was just what he needed. He offered Father a fair price for the property, and the sale was made.
All was excitement as plans were made, things sold, given away or packed for the journey. What an experience. Mother wrote to Aunt Sarah in Smithfield, Utah to have a house ready for us when we arrived at a given date. Grandfather and Grandmother Carter had lived with us for a time when they could no longer care for themselves, now they were with Mother’‘s sister, Mary Ann in Chapel Brampton. A letter gave them the news and grandmother wanted to go, to see Aunt Sarah once more. Grandfather said “he was born in old England and would die in old England” and that twas the end of that.
In March Grandfather developed pneumonia and passed away 23 March 1902, Mother’s birthday. He is buried in Chapel Brampton. This was just three months before our sailing date. Grandmother was now free to join us on the journey. Grandmother found she was far short of sufficient funds so Father brought her along with the family. (L 97-18-6 or ninety-seven pounds and eighteen sixpence, was paid for the family passage.) We sailed from Liverpool 5 June 1902 on the shop “Commonwealth,” the same ship Harry and Alf sailed on the year before. The tide was out so the ship was far out in the water. We went out on the “tender” and walked up the ramp onto the ship. We were soon settled in our state rooms. Grandmother and Mother had the two lower berths. Mrs. Humphries, another passenger, from London and her two children, Harry fifteen and Daisy five, were on their way to Sandy, Utah. Mrs. Humphries had one upper berth and Daisy and I shared the other upper berth. Daisy at one end and I at the other. Annie was with three other girls. Father, Wilford, Ernest, and Bert were in another room along with a boy, Bob Galloway, from Hull, traveling alone to Hyde Park, a small town north of Logan, Utah. Father took care of Bob along with his own and when Bob’s cap blew off into the ocean, gave him one of the boy’s caps. We went up on deck to say, and see, our last good-bye to England. On reaching the deck we wee horrified to see Bert sitting astride the ship’s railing. Somehow Mother reached him without startling him, and lifted him down to safety; the least movement of the ship would have thrown him overboard.
Susan Humphries, a plumpish woman of forty years, had many struggles getting into her upper berth each night, gales of laughter accompanied each effort. We enjoyed her antics and had many laughs with her. Daisy had naturally curly hair and received many a whack with the hairbrush as she squirmed and fussed while her mother combed her hair. My curls being homemade, I had no snarls to fuss over. Daisy, Bert and I had many happy times together during the voyage, playing and exploring. We had free run of the ship as few first class passengers were aboard. We were second class passengers and enjoyed all the ship had to offer.
Mother and Annie were seasick several days, so Father had the family to care for, including Grandmother Carter, who was not sick a minute and was all over the ship, including the kitchen and scullery, where men were cleaning fish for dinner. Grandmother’s mind had weakened and she needed constant watching. Father, Bert and I had only a touch of seasickness one afternoon. The steward made us comfortable on the top deck in the sunshine and brought our afternoon tea to us. (Mormon tea — water, sugar and milk.) We had one day of severe stormy weather. Canvas was put around the outside of the deck to keep the waves from washing over the ship, and no one was allowed on deck that day. After a week of the ocean the ship docked in Boston Harbor. What a long wait we had going through customs. Finally we were on the train and headed west. We had a long wait in Chicago for our train to Colorado. In Colorado we changed to the D&RG Railroad for Salt Lake City. The depot in Salt Lake was then a tiny frame building about two blocks north of the present depot. During our journey across the states, Father would buy food at various station stops, at one place Father bought a pie, calling it a “tart” (English word) and was laughed at by the café people. At night Mother made us as comfortable as she could on the car seats. One night Father paid for a sleeper for Mother and Grandmother so they could get their clothes off and lie down.
Our last train change was a Cache Junction, where again we had to wait some time. Bert and I wandered out into the sunshine and June grass. We found some pansy-like flowers and June grass spears, each one scratching our legs and difficult to remove from our thick stockings. It was nice to be taken to the café counter for dinner by a former missionary, a brakeman on the outgoing train. Father saw him and spoke, the former missionary was surprised and embarrassed as he was smoking a cigar.
Aunt Sarah, her husband and Harry met us at the depot in Smithfield, the late and dark evening of 18 June 1902, and took us to their home and on our first wagon ride. We were happy to be finished with trains, and to see our brother Harry again, even though we were a family without a home. The next three days Father and the boys helped on the farm thinning beets. It was hot work in the June sunshine.
Father found a house for us; our luggage arrived and all was activity getting settled. We had no furniture; an old stove was in the house, also an old wooden bed frame with sagging and broken rope springs and an old table. A straw filled bag was put on the repaired ropes, then a feather bed for Father and Mother. The rest of us slept on the floor, our feather beds on straw filled bags. For furniture we had boxes. We did have our own dishes, cutlery, etc. Many dishes and other things were broken during the transfer, but we had more than sufficient for our use. The raspberry canes in the yard gave us appreciated fruit. It was almost like camping out, but we got by. On the Fourth of July we had our first snowstorm. The flakes melted as they reached the ground. We were in Smithfield six weeks and on the suggestion of former friends and missionaries, thinking Father could do well repairing shoes, we moved to Wellsville where both Harry and Alf joined us. Father had brought many of his shoe tools with him so he was somewhat equipped for shoe work. We settled in a rock house, roomy and cool. Father used one front room for his work shop. The other front room was rented to two sisters, named Kingston. They were dressmakers, who taught Annie much about sewing. Father found shoe repair work dirty, hard work such as he had never done before. He had always worked making new shoes. The impossible work brought in must have been discouraging but he kept on. Mother did much to help. Some people in those years and in that town, were generally disposed to kindness to immigrants, but we found a friend in Joshua Salisbury, an elderly Welshman, and one returned missionary who had been in our home in England. One Sunday Brother Salisbury took us home after church for dinner, then filled a gunny sack with potatoes and vegetables for us. There was considerable ground around the house. In the spring Brother Salisbury had Wilford come for his horse “Nellie” so the ground could be ploughed for planting. He showed Father and the boys how to plough, plant and irrigate the garden. He was a friend indeed. The garden produced well. Late in the summer of 1902, a plum tree near the house produced a bumper crop of fruit and Mother wanted to make jam. We had nothing large enough to hold such a large amount of fruit. The store had sold out of crocks or any large fruit containers, so Father bought a large, granite water bucket to hold the jam. From this came a family saying, “Go easy on the jam; it is getting toward the bottom of the bucket.” It did go rapidly. Mother was introduced to the local ladies by being invited to a home quilting. At dinner they served corn on the cob; Mother had neither seen nor heard of such a thing, but found it very enjoyable. She was always willing to try new things.
The weather was cold on my eighth birthday, 26 February 1903. There was no indoor baptism convenience at that time so all children eight years of age waited for warmer weather and water. On 6 June 1903, a number of children (I was one of them) were baptized by Richard Brenchly, in the local creek, which ran through the town. A neighbor near by, kindly let the mothers use her house when dressing the children. I was confirmed the next Sunday by Richard Brenchly. Mother had told me my name was Ida Carter Freeman. I had no proof until I found Ida Carter Freeman baptized 6 June 1903, by Richard Brenchly, on the Wellsville record film #027410 (black) 6573 part I (red letters). The Wellsville Tabernacle was a new unfinished building at that time. The chapel was finished.
On a visit to Brigham City in 1903, Father met President Charles Kelly and his son who had a shoe repair shop. Father was promised work for himself and machine work for Annie. We moved to Brigham City in September of 1903 into a two story adobe house in the First Ward just off of Fourth South and on First East. Brigham City — our home for the next twenty years. What a change it was from our neat English town with cobbled streets, to one of dust streets in the summer or snow and mud when winter arrived. There were electric light poles down the main street, a board walk on each side of the street for one block.
The business district began on the west side of Main Street at First North (Main Street running north and south). The first store was John Anderson’s Dry Goods and variety store, often called “Cheap Jack’s,” next was Christensen’s Mersie Store, Stohl Furniture store next and the First National Bank on the corner of Main Street and Forest Street. From the imposing City and County Building running west to he railroad depot, Forest Street divided the town. One block west of the bank and on Forest Street was the Opera House. Downstairs we gathered to enjoy “home dramatic plays,” upstairs was the dance floor. Many ward activities were held there. Later a weekly moving picture show was shown downstairs. A pond was on either side of Forest Street most of the way down to the depot. One building across the railroad tracks from the depot, a weather-beaten, red frame building, I later learned was the canning factory. I worked there several seasons peeling tomatoes.
Across the street south from the bank was Joe Zimmerman’s Saloon, then Peter’s Jewelry Store, a café, Eddy’s Drug store – then a candy store, and C. O. Christensen’s China and Cutlery Shop, a dentist’s and doctor’s office, Rosenbaum’s Men’s Clothing and Tailor Shop with Jensen’s Meat Market on the corner. Across the street south was, and is, Compton’s Photo and Art Gallery, next was Fishburn’s Clothing and Dry Goods Store, then C. D. Brown’s Boot and Shoe Repair shop, the Rosenbaum house and another house on the corner. Across the street south was the Central School, a two and one-half story brick building, standing in the center of the block. Across the street east of the school stands the tabernacle, the largest and loveliest building I had seen. Now years later, though much shrunken in size it is still a lovely building and dear to my heart. On the block north of the tabernacle, on Main Street was, and is, Horsley’s store and shipping department. The most frequented place in town stood nearby, the Post Office. It was a frame building where young and old stood in line waiting for the tiny window to open, then each waited in turn for the clerk to thumb through the stack of letters, etc. under each initial. If one was rewarded with a letter a happy grin spread over the face, child or adult. A house, shoe repair shop, etc. continued on down the street to the Booth Hotel, then an alley and the City-County building. Across the road north was the frame building of the city library, several private homes, then a tiny variety store on the corner of First North and Main Street.
The street in front of the City-County building was used on “Peach Day” to display peaches competing for prizes.
This was the main part of Brigham City 1904-1911.
The promised work for Father or Annie did not materialize; another hard experience in this new land. Harry was offered work with a repair gang on the railroad. It proved to be a good experience for him. He became a good carpenter and did remodeling jobs in Brigham. I started to school in the “Webster School” located a short distance north on the same street from where we lived. Father and Harry decided to buy a small farm and on 1 January 1904, we moved into a tiny old house at the foot of the mountains. Snow covered everything – everywhere was beautiful. Something had to be done to provide a bedroom for the boys. A newly built room (to be used for a chicken coop) was bought and moved near the house.
One incident happened shortly after we moved into this snow covered land. Mother bundled Bert and I up so we could go outside to play. On going towards the front of the house I saw a cat crouching, or laying, in the sunshine on the porch railing. We had always had a cat and I went toward it calling Kitty, kitty. I was only a short distance away when it flew in my face knocking me on my back in the snow and started biting, clawing and scratching my face. While I struggled, Bert ran screaming to the kitchen door. Mother came running; also Father and the boys from the barn. The cat darted away and while Mother took me to the house the others went after the cat which took refuge in the barn. The boys and Father found it hiding and killed it. Wilford said it was a young bobcat. It had tufted ears. I had a horrible looking face, swollen and painful. I was put to bed and Mother dressed my face with grated raw potato. The cool dampness soon soothed the pain until the potato dried then Mother d\renewed the dressing. I still have faint teeth marks to remind of unfriendly cats of all kinds.
I started school in the Fourth Ward “Columbia School,” one mile from home. This was a three room adobe building; each room had a stove in the center of the room. My teacher was Sevena Madsen. The snow was deep. There was no path across the hill and down the lane and no other families or children for one-half mile. Father put on his gum boots and walked ahead of us to make a path as far as the flat where other children had made a good path. This continued all winter.
When the snow was gone, what a sight met our eyes. It would seem those who had lived there before us had thrown all the rubbish out into the front of the house. We — Mother, Annie, Bert and I — raked, swept and carried away heaps of discarded bottles, rags, worn-out kitchen items, rocks, etc. Father and the boys were equally busy rebuilding the barn, cleaning the chicken house, and the granary etc., besides pruning trees — peaches, pear, prune and apple trees — long neglected. We built a huge pile of tree cuttings and had a delightful bonfire.
In the spring and after school was finished for the season, Bet and I often wandered out into the June grass and sagebrush beyond the fence. We carried home pretty rocks and those of curious shapes. We soon had a collection to play with. We found little lilies which opened into creamy white flowers. They grew so close to the ground there was little stem. We filled shallow dishes with them and saw them close up at night and open wide at daylight. Another larger white lily with long, yellow stamens lived a very short time. Another lily which grew taller, we loved. Its leaves were so dry looking but the flower was beautiful. We later learned it was the “Sego Lily” and the beautiful story of its help to the pioneers. We also tried eating a bulb, like very small onions, and found it sweet.
The peaches that season were not plentiful but extra large and colorful. There were not enough for a prize on “Peach Day” September 1904, but they did have honorable mention; they were so nicely arranged by Annie. She also packed the plums in such a way they brought a better price from the fruit shippers. This first year Father had to hire someone to plough the garden, and everyone worked to make it a success.
This was a new life for Father and Mother and for all of us. Mother had a real education — making bread, doing her own baking, learning new foods and trying to get a stove to do what she wanted it to. It would smoke badly when the wind blew from the wrong direction. How we enjoyed the new Majestic range purchased later. She had to improvise many things, including a new way to collect her water for laundry and house use. She was a real pioneer. Father, too, found it to be a new, hard life, working in the hot sun day after day; learning to milk a cow, drive a horse and all the hard work of clearing rocks — big, little and in-between — off the land. The boys drilled holes in come very large rocks and used dynamite to break them up. The fine powder from drilling holes we used for scouring. After the first year Father bought a horse, “old Pat,” a dirty, greyish-white old fellow. He was willing and gave good service for a long time. One day I was too close to his heels, he lifted up his rear foot and planted it on my chest. I was felled flat on my back with the breath knocked out of me. Father carried me into the house. I was soon up and about. I respected old Pat’s heels after that. Many times I led him down rows of vegetables while Father cultivated.
The next winder Harry made a snowplow with a box seat for Father to ride. Old Pat pulled it many a mile, for many paths. As we became older and Father was away at work we walked, by that time, two miles to school. Many mornings I jogged along between Alf and Wilford holding their arms, they carried my books. They went tot he Whittier School two blocks west of my school. The Central School. I went one year to the Emerson School in the Third Ward. Miss Harding was my teacher. One incident there I remember occurred when we were out of school three days because a skunk took up residence under the building.
When Alf was sixteen, working away from home during the summer, he became ill and was sent home. I wondered many times how he made it home. Some months later he told us to get home he walked a while, lay down and slept a while and walked again. Doctor Harding said “typhoid fever.” Alf was very ill. The doctor later said if his body had not been so strong he would not have lived. Father took most of the night watches and all the heavy work, bathing Alf in ice water for his fever and moving him about. The bishop relieved Father one night but sleep overcame him. Alf was delirious and needed constant attention. We saw little of Father or Mother for six weeks. We did for ourselves with Annie’s capable help. The first time I was allowed to see Alf, he was so pale, and thin, his hair was shorn, but he was his cheerful self. The first time he was allowed to go to Sunday School (that meant a walk of a mile there and a mile home) he used the house brush for a crutch under one arm and Father’s shoulder for the other arm. He did look tall, he must have grown inches. One of the ward members gave him a ride home. His hair came in wavy and lovely; he did not like it. This was before we had old Pat.
When I was about nine or ten; years old I was up early one spring morning, and still in my nightgown when a knock came to the kitchen door. I went to find out who was about so early in the morning. A man who was expecting to be our neighbor was there holding a wee lamb. As he was alone at his house he asked if I would like a lamb he had found on the north salt flats. (If lambs were too young or too weak to keep up with the flock they were left to die.) He had a soft, kind heart and picked the abandon lamb up and offered it to me. I was happy to have a frightened crying lamb. Father came to see what was going on and was soon on his way to town for a nipple so we could feed a hungry lamb. He was soon happy and contented in a box by the stove. “Billy” grew fast and was soon fat and playful. Everyone enjoyed Billy and he was soon everyone’s pet, and spoiled; being boss of the yard. As he grew older he began butting everyone as soon as one stepped out of the house. Before cold weather arrived, it was decided Billy had to go as it was impossible to keep him over the winter. I finally agreed and a wagon came and took Billy away. My one and only pet.
Father was always willing to help others. As soon as he had a horse and a light conveyance (about the size of a pickup car, open and with one seat) he took an elderly man up to the tabernacle meeting with us. Father and Mother did not go to Sunday School, because there was no class for parents at that time. We younger children went to Sunday School and as the distance was too far for us to walk home from Sunday School for dinner and be in time for sacrament meeting at 2:00 p.m. in the tabernacle, Mother packed us a lunch which we left at the house of an elderly, poor couple who lived near the ward church. After Sunday School we ate our lunch and waited for Father and Mother to come for us.
The elderly gentleman had not been able to go to sacrament meeting for a long time because of the distance; he lived a mile from the tabernacle. With the help of Father and a chair he was able to climb into the conveyance, sit on the chair and hold onto the seat. He was so happy to go to meetings once again. We had to be at the tabernacle at 1:30 p.m. as Father was an usher to help seat the people. The process was repeated to return home. Later, and after the elderly man had passed away, meetings were held in the ward churches. Stake conference was held in the tabernacle. Hay was put in the vehicle, the horse unhitched and tied at the rear to eat his hay, (he was one among many horses and buggies), and we spent the day at the tabernacle, taking our lunch with us and eating outside in good weather. Annie sand in the tabernacle choir. The organ bellows were pumped by hand in those early years.
About three years after we were settled at the hillside home a girl (Ethel) came to us from England. (She and her mother were close friends of Grandmother Carter and Mother.) She was near Annie’s age and so very different. Annie tried to help her into the American ways, with little success. She had a cough and it worried Father because of much illness from the tuberculosis in England, so she was taken to the doctor. The doctor told her she should sleep in a tent outside at night, for the summer and fall, then see him again. I was the one selected to keep her company in the tent each night, she had her side of the tent, I mine. Summer turned into fall and a cold fall it was, storms and wind and an early fall of snow. Ethel said she did not like the treatment and decided to go to Idaho and renew her friendship with a returning missionary she met on the boat. He came down and took her to his mother’s home. They were soon married. He was a sheep owner and well to do. They came to see us many times., always in a very lovely automobile. Alex McCullough was very good to Ethel. They had several children. Later we lost contact with them.
Once or twice a year Indian squaws came to the house asking for food. The first time we were surprised and a little frightened; Father was not home. They were quite friendly and asked for sugar, flour, cookies, bread, or anything they needed. They would look around for a time and leave, taking only what was given them.
The weeds seemed to grow so tall and fast, a constant job for Ernest, Bert and me. Father would give us a plot to be weeded while he was away. Some weeds took the combined strength of Bert and me to pull them up. Sometimes they came up so suddenly we would sit down hard. We, also, and the job of helping Father irrigate. We followed the water down the long rows and would call “It is down.” We never had a dull moment.
Up the hill was a reservoir for water storage, for irrigation. When we moved there this reservoir was partially filled in. Father and the boys cleaned it out; also the springs that filled it and the outlet (a tricky contraption). Later a pipe and wheel for opening and closing the outlet was installed, then Bert and I had the sometimes doubtful pleasure of going up the hill to turn the water on and up the hill to turn the water off. Many of the local boys swam or paddled in the reservoir. Occasionally the girls had a day. Mother found us discarded overalls and shirts to use.
During our early years in Brigham, Father being a fisherman took four of us with him to Bear River to fish. Our first with old Pat doing the trip. Father had his fishing gear which he brought from England. The four of us, Wilford, Ernest, Bert, and I were equipped with five cent bamboo poles, with lines, floater and hook. The hook point pushed into a cork so no one would get snagged on the way. Bear River was quite different them the “Ouse” at Olney. What fun we had fishing (all but putting worms on the hook). The fish ate more worms from my hook than I caught, but we each caught carp, sunfish etc. We ate none of them. Father gave them away and all around were happy to have them.
When Father took over some land adjoining ours to farm, we had another job. WE planted tomato plants and as they grew we looked for and killed, the large green worms that ate the plants. Then there were tomatoes to pick — again irrigating long rows. Later strawberries were planted and with the already there ten long rows of raspberries, we had plenty of fruit to pick. We were up at 4:00 a.m. and into the patch at daylight. Often the strawberry plants were wet and cold with dew, we would wish for the sun to warm us; very soon we were wishing for clouds to cover the sun. Bert and I always worked together, each having the same number of cups of fruit. Father said our berries, strawberries or raspberries always looked better than any of the others. Our cases were always full weight or better and often other short weight cases were made up from ours. Annie tried fruit picking but the heat was too much for her.
Annie tried several types of work, one of which was silk making from silk worms. The project was soon given up. She had a piece of silk for her work. It was lovely silk and made a beautiful blouse. She worked at the Independent Telephone Company for a time, on the switchboard as night operator. Some nights I stayed with her and went to school from there. Sleep was often interrupted by the loud buzz at the board. She also worked at a bakery selling bread, cakes, etc. Later she worked for Samsel’s confectionery and soon lived in town. The distance to walk home at 1:00 or 2:00 a.m. after being on her feet all day was too much to do, and alone. She made Mother’s clothes and mine. We missed her very much, in many ways, when she married.
Early 1912 or 1913 the UIC (Utah Idaho Central) Railroad laid rail tracks along the Brigham City Main Street, down Forest Street to Third West, then north to Preston, Idaho. The UIC connected to the Bamburger railroad at Salt Lake City and serviced all towns between Salt Lake City and Preston, Idaho.
A small ticket office was installed in C. O. Christensen’s China Shop. Richard Peters, of Perry, was the ticket and office clerk. Next door north was Samsel’s ice cream parlor and candy store where Annie worked. It was there for the first time I saw “chocolate dipping” as I stopped by on my way home from school. Annie gave me some chocolates, my first, and I thoroughly enjoyed them. All the town found their way to Samsel’s ice cream parlor — Richard Peters among them. I do not know if Annie and Richard had met before or not but they were married 30 October 1913. Later the UIC tracks were moved from Main Street to Fifth West.
One thing stands out in my memory. A group of girls from the ward were invited to spend an evening sewing carpet rags for a new carpet for the home of “grandmother Wright,” mother of our bishop, and one of our remaining pioneers. She lived in a little adobe house in the ward and was old and lovely. We were rewarded for our efforts listening to Grandmother Wright tell of her early experiences. She was five years old when the Prophet Joseph Smith talked with her as he held her on his knee. She said he was so kind and gentle. She crossed the plains and walked all the way. This personal story made me feel closer to the beginning of the Church, and the suffering of all crossing the plains to Utah.
In 1914 the “old folks,” pioneers mostly, from Salt Lake were entertained in Brigham City. A program was followed by a luncheon, and served out under the trees. I was happy to be one of the number privileged to help serve the group. It was a lovely day.
Bert and I seemed to be together doing our daily duties. We often found ourselves looking for the cow which had wandered far away up the mountain, near or after dark. We felt safe with our dog at our side. Again we would be out getting dry sagebrush for kindling to start the morning fire and to use for summer cooking and baking. It burned hot and fast and went out quickly so the house could cool off. If we found a piece of sagebrush which resisted our combined strength and efforts to pull it up, we set the dog to digging and it was soon free. We had plenty of sunshine and activity to make us healthy and strong.
Wilford liked to experiment. One year as the grapes ripened he decided to use one end of our little cellar and put ice in sawdust to keep the grapes cool. Things worked out well. Ice froze on the reservoir early and was harvested into the cellar and sawdust. The grapes kept very well and we enjoyed them at Christmastime. The cellar was cooled for some of the hot weather.
Also in the cellar was a shelf on which the milk pans stood for the cream to rise. One day one of us found a mouse swimming in the milk and cream of one pan. Harry soon made a cupboard with screened doors — no more mice in the milk.
As I was sweeping the kitchen floor one day, I closed the door to sweep behind it — there lay a snake curled up. I ran screaming. The boys came and took it away.
The winters were very cold and severe, snow blizzards came our way very often. We loved walking over the fences when the snow drifted deep. Jack Frost painted beautiful pictures on my bedroom window. Often the howl of coyotes awakened me in the night, sounding just outside the house. I would pull the covers up closer, glad I was protected by four walls. Some evenings Mother would ask if I had fastened the chicken house door. If I had forgotten she would go with me while I took care of my duty. Coyotes loved a chicken when it was found unprotected — they found our ducks at the reservoir with the coop door unfastened and ate them — no more ducks.
Father loved music and had Annie learn to play the violin as a young girl in England. Ernest, also, had violin lessons while we lived at the mountain home. Father had a concertina which he played, sometimes on a summer evening outdoors. To me it was lovely. He sang in the ward choir while living in the Whittier Ward in Salt Lake City.
Later I started working at the cannery: the only work for the summer weeks from fruit season until time to go to school. Some years we did peaches and apricots, but always tomatoes. We — the boys, Alf, Wilford, and Ernest and I — were always two weeks late starting school. I did not catch up too well. I did get by — just. The boys had no difficulty catching up, being excellent students. Father worked at the cannery too, and many nights he worked late. I would take the horse and buggy and his supper down to him and wait for him to go home. I learned to hitch up and unhitch the horse in record time. I seemed to be Father’s right hand man. The boys always had other things to do?
Father was offered the janitorship at the new Lincoln School. I was Father’s helper in 1914 and part of 1915. After school, I went down to help sweep the school rooms and arrived home late, very tired after a long day. Early in the morning Father and I were at the school to warm the building and do the dusting before I went to school. All this changed on 4 April 1915, when Father and Alf brought me down to Salt Lake to enter “nurses training “ at the LDS Hospital. (Then Mother was Father’s helper, again the boys?)
Four of us graduated from school in 1910. Ernest and I graduated from the eighth grade, Whittier School. Alf and Wilford were in the first graduating class from the new highschool at Forest Street and Fourth East. Alf played on the basketball team. Alf was the first one of the family to marry. He was married 24 November 1910, in the Salt Lake Temple, to Olga Olson, a Swedish girl, who came to Brigham with a returning missionary. She was educated in Brigham City. The next year Alf was teaching school in the Central School in Brigham City. Wilford was teaching school in Boothe Valley, a complicated journey to the settlement, where he had all grades in one room. Harry was married 5 April 1911, in the Salt Lake Temple to Effie May Tingey, a Fourth Ward girl of pioneer heritage. Wilford was married 13 September 1911, in the Salt Lake Temple to Esther Bott of the Fourth Ward. Annie was married 30 October 1913, in the Logan Temple, to Richard David Peters of Perry (three miles south of Brigham). The family seemed to leave home all at the same time, leaving three of us at home. Ernest went to Logan to school; I went to Salt Lake to the LDS Hospital, leaving Bert at home. Father, Harry, Alf, and Wilford piped water down to a hydrant just outside the kitchen door.
After three years of assorted experiences I graduated from LDS School of Nursing, Thursday 23 May 1918. The exercises were at the old “Barrett Hall” (formerly part of the LDS College — sometimes called LDS High School) followed by a dance at the “Odeon Dance Hall.” Both buildings are long gone. Alf drove down in Aunt Mary Olsen’s car, not our aunt really but the wife of the missionary who brought Olga to Utah and raised her to adulthood. I had finished my three years in April and was allowed to do some private duty nursing until graduation.
Ernest enlisted in the army in 1917 and was stationed at Camp Kearney in California. Bert decided to leave high school, and with one of his friends, enlisted in the Army and was stationed at Fort D. A. Russell, Cheyenne, Wyoming. Bert became ill with spinal meningitis, and was very ill at the time his companions were sent overseas. To complete his convalescence he was given a month at home. He was recommended for West Point but did not pass the physical examination. His illness left a slight drainage from one ear, otherwise he was in perfect physical condition. Before returning to Camp Russell, Bert came to Salt Lake to the temple, after which he came to the hospital to see me. I was on night duty, the night supervisor brought him to the maternity division to see me. This was my last visit with Bert. This was in February 1918. I was at the Brigham depot when Ernest arrived with the flag draped coffin 29 March 1919. On 28 Mar 1919, still at Fort Russell, in the Medical Department, as cook, Bert passed away from “flu pneumonia.” Ernest was with him. Only one person was allowed to go to Bert at the Fort. Ernest had just returned home from France, where his regiment was preparing to go to the front, when the Armistice was signed. Tuesday, 1 April 1919 graveside services were held for Bert in Brigham City Cemetery, because of the “flu epidemic” at the time. The service was short: a musical selection by Callie Kofoed and the Jensen Brothers; short talks by Stake President s. Norman Lee, Mayor J. W. Peters, W. C. Horsley, and Bishop Brigham Wright.
After graduation I continued to do private duty nursing and had all the work I could do. I had my first look at California in August 1919. I went to San Francisco, to Los Angeles, to San Diego and back to San Francisco from Los Angeles by boat. I was seasick all the way due to very rough coastal water. I returned to Los Angeles in 1920. My first long trip by car come in 1921. Three of us went to Yellowstone Part in a four cylinder Nash roadster. It was loaded with tent, beds, food and all necessary camping equipment on the running board and in the trunk. We made the trip up Mount Washburn to the top — feathery flakes of snow fell on us while there — we returned home by way of Jenny’s Lake and Teton Park, over the new, dirt road, Teton Pass, to Driggs Idaho. In 1922 three of us went to Zion Park and Bryce Canyon. We roamed all through the canyons, over every trail, and made some of our own. I was cook both times — what fun cooking over a campfire, and I am not a cook — some rare eating. In 1931 I made it to the top of “black peak” above Brigham. Wilford, Frank, Earl, Glen, Beth and I started out for the mountain trip. What a climb. On the way we found patches of wild bluebells — a beautiful sidelight. Beth became tired before the last and hardest climb and lay down under a pine tree. We found her fast asleep on our way back from black peak summit. This was my last mountaintop climb. I had been to the top once before. One Christmas day — beautiful and warm — after dinner, the family climbed to the top of the mountain.
Several times during my nursing years I had the pleasure and privilege of sitting on the Tabernacle choir seats, near the organ, while Professor J. J. McClellen, Tracy Y. Cannon or Edward Kimble played the world renowned organ. This pleasure was made possible through the kindness of Benjamin Goddard, a patient of a friend, who was a custodian at the Tabernacle. This I enjoyed many times.
I am glad to have the memory of theater nights at the “old Salt Lake Theatre.” There were “Shakespeare plays” by noted actors, and Anna Pavlova the famous ballet dancer, in “The dying Swan” — beautiful ballet. (1918 to 1920’s) Alf took me several times to the Salt Lake Theatre, high up in the seats near the ceiling. Alf and Wilford came down to the UE each year. Wilford stayed home with Dad and Mother.
In 1925 — Father and Mother were much interested in temple work. They thought of moving to Logan to be near the temple. I suggested Salt Lake when their idea was told to me. I did not think of it being selfish. (It was to some of the family, I later learned.) I would be around to help them if needed. In July 1925 they moved to 1319 South 3rd East, Salt Lake City, and I shared the house with them. They spent the day at the temple; I had their dinner ready on their return; then I went to work, night shift. I did the housework, washing , etc. to help out until I married. This I continued to do, or have done for them, all I could. I always had someone help me with their housecleaning after I married.
On 20 November 1931 I was married to Arthur Winter by President Heber J. Grant, in the Salt Lake Temple. We spent our honeymoon in San Francisco, California, my favorite city, after Salt Lake. Two leisurely weeks attending theaters and a tour to nearby towns and points of interest.
[NOTE: In a 9 March 1993 letter to Rita F. Bartholomew, Ida, in answer to questions from Rita about how she met her husband, Arthur Winter, explained:
My husband’s daughter was a member of the same nursing class, and in going together we went to her home, near by the hospital, and so met her parents. After the passing of the mother and also a second wife, I was asked to be day nurse after surgery to one eye.
On returning from a six month mission, I was asked to dinner or movie and then marriage. Later I accepted and four days later married. Nothing exciting, and no one else has had the desire to know.]
At home Arthur enjoyed the relaxation of the car. I enjoyed driving. We made many local trips to our lovely canyons: Grand Canyon National Park, Zion’s National Park, Cedar Breaks National Monument, and Yellowstone National Park. St. George was a favorite place to stay and rest. Each summer we vacationed by car, somewhere along the west coast, from San Francisco to Vancouver, British Columbia. We went through the redwoods and along the ocean, enjoying the beauties of nature. We drove to Yosemite National Park in 1936 where we experienced driving through the giant redwood tree “Wawona,” blown down in 1972. Here I had the misfortune of fracturing my right ankle. This made driving home quite uncomfortable and resulted in my wearing a cast on my right foot and leg for six weeks.
Sometime during each winter we would spend two weeks in Southern California, going and returning by train. We enjoyed the theater and relaxing. We made one vacation trip to Denver by train, enjoying the “Royal Gorge” stop and change of scenery.
Once more I tried the coast trip by boat, from Los Angeles to San Francisco. I was seasick, our cabin was at the end of the boat and the water was rough. The captain, on seeing Arthur whom he knew, asked how he was getting along; on learning of my sickness he immediately had our cabin changed to the boat center. Everything was fine from then on. We had our meals in our cabin, and enjoyed the remaining time of the boat trip.
The year 1937 was the one hundredth anniversary of the gospel in England. Arthur desired to go once more to the land of his birth, and attend the conference, to be held August 1937. Early morning, on 4 July 1937 we left home by automobile for New York City. James Giles, Arthur’s nephew, drove the car as far as Omaha, where he left us to return home by airplane, his first flight and a new experience. We stopped over in Chicago for two nights and a day, to rest. The weather was very hot. We enjoyed the spray from Niagara Falls blowing over us as we ate lunch on the restaurant balcony. The falls were beautiful. We followed along Canada for a time, then crossed New York State to Albany. After Albany, we followed the Hudson River to New York City, crossing the nearly new George Washington Bridge on 11 July. A severe thunderstorm cooled the city giving us a chance to see New York in comfort and arrange storage for the car. We enjoyed driving through Central Park and seeing other points of interest. We sailed from New York City 14 July 1937 on the ship “Manhattan,” for England. Letters from home and flowers from Jimmy and Al were in our stateroom, messages of “Bon Voyage.” We had a smooth restful voyage, arriving at Plymouth, England 20 July. After customs, we went by boat train to London. Two elders met us at the station at 11:00 p.m. and took us to the Russell Hotel, and we had a good night’s rest. Everything was new and strange to me. At breakfast, Elder Oscar Kirkham met us and suggested a tour, by car, around England and Scotland. We agreed to the plan. A Hillman car was rented and with a driver we toured England to Leicester, Nottingham, York, with its “Roman Wall,” and very large York “Minster” (Cathedral) — thirteenth century with beautiful stained glass windows. We went on to Edinburgh and Glasgow, Scotland. A tour through the Edinburgh Castle with its beautiful crown jewels, also Holyrood house with Mary “Queen of Scots” tiny chapel, and George Knox’s birthplace and church. Most buildings were very dirty. A few had been cleaned (Edinburgh was) preparing for a visit by the King and Queen. Glasgow was a dingy city and quiet on Sunday. We returned through the English lake district, Robert Burns birthplace, home of the poet Wadsworth, through Wales, and Llandudno — a resort town on “Colwyn Bay” — the river Ribble; Hereford, and remembered the wonderful work of President Woodruff, across the river Severn by ferry, through the town of Bath, and back to London. I visited the London Bridge, Tower of London, Windsor Castle, and many points of interest while Arthus rested at the hotel. We visited a cousin, K(the same Lottie Stratton who played the violin in the Crystal Palace) in Kent. One afternoon we visited my birthplace, Olney, and the house where I was born. The two sisters who lived there had known my parents and allowed me to go through the house, then we spent a short time with my Aunt Polly, Mother’s sister, and cousin Lizzie Ogden, in Northampton. Aunt Polly had been ill and of course did not know me until I explained who I was. During August “Bank Holiday” in England, trains were crowded as we made our way to Rochdale, where the conference was to be held. It was a hot, crowded, tiring ride. Our reserved room was over a pub, a poor room. We went through the pub to reach our room. Conference was a lovely experience. President Heber J. Grant, President J. Reuben Clark, President Lucy Cannon of the YWMIA and many other church leaders were there. Early the next morning, barely daylight, I was awakened by such a clatter outside, I hurried to the window, and saw crowds of factory workers, wearing clogs, walking across the cobbled yard. I had heard about Lancashire “clogs;” now I had heard and seen them.
Back in London — the next day, 4 August 1937 we left by “channel boat” from Dover and its white cliffs, for a tour of the continent. Paris and the “du Louvre” hotel; Versailles where the famous fountains were not playing; Malmaison, home of Napoleon and Josephine. I walked down the Champs Elyse to the “Arc de Triumph,” a long walk down and back to the “Tulleries” gardens, where Arthur waited. In France there was much to see and do. By train to “Interlaken” and a ride to the “Jungfrau.” It was a marvelous ride, part of it four and one-half miles of cog track through a tunnel of solid rock. It was very cold in the tunnel. Jangfrau was a mountain of ice and snow and interesting sculptures in ice. We went to Italy by train and through the “Simplon” tunnel, a railroad through the mountain, in which the train turned the opposite direction. In Rome, the Eternal City, for three delightful days, it was hot!
Our hotel was the “Savoy” above the Spanish Steps, and near the main road. Sunday morning by horse drawn carriage, we left for St. Peter’s Church, for Mass, and to see the Pope. Our driver insisted on driving all around the city “panorama” on the way, in spite of my insisting “no panorama, St. Peter’s!” We arrived after Mass was over and the Pope was being carried out sitting on a gold chair carried on the shoulders of six men. Our tour of the Vatican was long and tiring. It lasted al morning, but we enjoyed it. We met Brother George Pyper, an Eighteenth Ward ember, who had just climbed the five hundred steps to the top of the dome. We saw the Sistine Chapel, with its beautiful, renowned ceiling, the narrow winding stone stairs giving a view from narrow windows of the courtyard below and the colorfully dressed Swiss guards. The marvelous treasures, such as I had never seen, (and did not see on a later visit) were almost breathtaking. We saw the gardens and the outside of the Pope’s apartment. In the afternoon we went to the catacombs of St. Sebastan and followed one another, in single file through the long labyrinth of tunnels, each person carrying a lighted candle to light our way. Next day the tour took us through the ruins of the original nineteen Forums of Ancient Rome, the old rostrum and Senate house, ruins of the Vestal Temple, reins of Rome built by Romulus and Remus, reins of churches, houses, cisterns and silos, and also the reins of the home of the second wife of Caesar.
We went to Venice by train. It was cool after a rainstorm. We had a new experience going to our hotel by motor boat taxi. Our private balcony was over the Grand Canal — we had lunch on the balcony. We enjoyed St. Mark’s square and feeding the many pigeons. St. Mark’s Church has no paintings. It is all mosaic. The clock tower built in 1496 was a most unusual clock. We slept under mosquito netting. For two days we enjoyed the canals, boats, old churches, palace and Venice.
We first saw horse drawn taxis in Florence, and enjoyed the many works of art there, the narrow winding streets and the spot marked where “Dante” was born. Florence, a city of 350,000 people, is surrounded by hills and mountains. It has the large and famous statue of David, also many churches and art galleries.
Before leaving Italy for Switzerland the train stopped in the mountains near a monastery. The monks wore very coarse robes and were accompanied by large St. Bernard dogs. Again the train went through the mountains and the “St. Gothard Tunnel” into beautiful Switzerland. In Lucerne our room overlooked Lake Lucerne along which we strolled on tree shaded paths. In Basel we met President Thomas McKay and several missionaries. They said good-bye to us at the train as we left for Mainz and Germany. We changed our money at the bank the next day. It was a dingy place with only one single drop light in the room. On a crowded boat going down the Rhine River to Koln, our table companion was an interesting linguist professor at an eastern university. There was evidence of war destruction at Koln. The cathedral towers (two) were still under repair. We continued by train to Brussels. We enjoyed the city tours and also the green countryside. In Brussels I bought linen handkerchiefs edged with handmade lace and watched the ladies make lace. We crossed the channel from Ostned, (many people were on the beaches), to the white cliffs of Dover. We went by boat train to London and checked in at the Hotel Russell.
On 27 August we left London by boat train for Southampton and our ship “Manhattan.” Fog was everywhere, we could not see the Isle of Wight as we left England’s shores, and bade goodbye to our former homeland. On 2 September we arrived in New York after a smooth, restful voyage. New York was a hot ninety degrees and humid. On 4 September I went by underground to pick up the car and prepare for the trip home, two months to the day since we left Salt Lake. We were Washington bound via the Holland tunnel — white tile walls, no loitering going through, guards waved everyone on. We ferried across the Delaware River, and ate breakfast in Wilmington at the Hotel Du Pont. Progress was slow with traffic through Baltimore. We crossed the Susquehanna River where it empties into the Chesapeake Bay, over a double decked wooden bridge, the upper deck for east bound traffic, the lower deck for outgoing traffic. It was hot in Washington, ninety four degrees and humid. A rainstorm during the night cooled the air for us. Sunday was “fast day” and we attended Sunday School and “fast meeting.” Meetings were held in the lovely church building built of Utah marble, (since sold). In the chapel there was one large window made of small square panes; each square had a United State’s, state flower in stained glass — very lovely. We were shown through the church by Judge Iverson, formerly of Utah, and met President Brossard, later bishop of the Eighteenth Ward, Salt Lake City. Monday morning we left for home through Virginia and West Virginia, lovely estates and poor towns. The Allegheny Mountains were in a fog above four thousand feet. Going through the Blue Ridge Mountains we found driving slow on narrow winding roads. The towns along the way were very poor. We found Ohio, by contrast, lovely, green and the air cooler.
We had one unfortunate experience in Ohio. On the morning of 7 September we left Athens, Ohio at 6:00 a.m. It was a beautiful morning for traveling. After a time we were following a school bus. I finally decided to pass and pulled out in the road and was horrified when without warning the bus driver turned across the road in front of us. I immediately stepped on the brake and turned the steering wheel sharp; I was sure we were headed for disaster. I will never know what happened. I am sure I did not drive that car, we were in the barrow pit, car upright facing in the right direction, the motor running and we were sitting quite normally; truly a miracle. Kind providence alone saved us. We were shaken up a little, but the car received little damage, a very slightly dented front, left fender and bumper and a little paint was lost. The bus driver and others collected around us. The driver said, “Didn’t you see those school children?” I said, “No.” (They were a good half block away, up a lane.) Someone called a “wrecker” to get us back on the road. We were soon on our way again, most grateful to be alive and unharmed. We traveled through Indiana, Illinois, into Missouri — a poor looking state. We were quite disappointed to find the Mississippi River very low and very muddy. Kansas looked prosperous to us but through Nebraska the farms had been beaten by a severe storm; the corn was cut to ribbons down to the ground. Denver, Colorado was our last night out for sleeping in hotels. Wyoming — our last state to travel in and then back to Salt Lake City, Utah. How thankful we were to be home safely and to find everyone well.
Father’s eightieth birthday was 29 June 1939. The family gathered at Box Elder County Park, just below Mantua. Lunch and games were the activities for the occasion. I took Father and Mother and Annie up with me. Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves.
In July 1939 Arthur and I had a delightful trip to Alaska. We left home one bright, hot summer morning by automobile for Seattle, Washington. We ferried across the Columbia River, as we had done before, saving miles of driving and enjoying the closeness to the water, also saving time. Arriving in Seattle we arranged for car storage and proceeded to Vancouver, British Columbia by boat. The boat stopped at Victoria en route to Vancouver. Victoria is always a pleasant place to visit. At Vancouver we boarded the ship “Prince Robert” for our voyage and settled in our room. (Prince Robert was a good sized ship and was later converted into a troop ship during world War II.) The ship floated in and out of the inlets so smooth and quiet, making the trip very relaxing and restful. The boat stopped at Ocean Fills, Canada, for the passengers to enjoy a “paper mill” tour. Here they processed pine logs into finished paper — a most interesting tour. Our next stop was a detour to Sitka, on Baronof Island. Here we encountered heavy rain and saw the small town from a taxi window. The rain was pouring down outside. Our stop was the famous Russian built church; such gold scroll work, tapestry, ornamentation and statuary. It was most beautiful. It has since burned to the ground — very few of the treasures were saved — now it has been rebuilt.
The sea was rough recrossing the channel. I was seasick and went to bed for the evening. On arriving at Skagway, rain was pouring down, so Arthur thought it best to dispose of our tickets for the two day and one night boat trip on Lake Atlin. (A good decision because the boat trip was not enjoyed by those who went: the boat was old and drafty and the weather wet and cold.) Sightseeing at Skagway, by car and walking, we picked and enjoyed the largest and sweetest raspberries from canes growing along the sidewalk of deserted houses. The hothouse had the largest pansy flowers I have ever seen, with such long stems and beautiful vivid colors, and nasturtium vines climbing all over the walls and room filled with large colorful flowers, unbelievable, unless seen. The return to Vancouver was shorter than going out. We went by boat from Vancouver to Seattle (and we were honored with the bridal suite, beautiful red velvet decor). At Seattle we picked up the car and returned home. Again grateful to be safely home.
A quiet rest was planned for our 1 August 1940 vacation. Arthur had been feeling a little tired. In late July, after dinner at the Hotel Utah with a niece of Arthur’s and a planned movie, we had just reached the theater when Arthur had a sudden pain in his chest. We came home and put him to bed and sent for the doctor. A heart attack. After two days he passed peacefully away on 1 August 1940, the morning of our planned vacation. I was not included this time. The funeral service was held in the Eighteenth Ward chapel, Sunday 3 August 1940. Burial was in the family lot by the side of his two wives, five sons and his mother.
In October 1940 Father felt he should sell his home. The years were adding up for both Father and Mother, and the yard and homework were too much for them. Each was still active but they had some problems. Father looked at a large old home of A Street. I suggested it was too large for them as they wanted less work. I offered my upstairs apartment to them. They moved, to be with me at 229 C Street, and I think they enjoyed the change. They did not mind the stairs. At our home in England we had stairs, all English homes had an upstairs.
In 1941, I thought I would like to go to the factory for a new car and drive it home and see some of the country on the way. Annie looked out for Father and Mother. Afton, a niece, and I went by bus to Lansing, Michigan, and received an Oldsmobile coupe, new and shining. We traveled across Michigan to Muskegon, and enjoyed a lovely ferry ride across Lake Michigan to Milwaukee. It was beautiful green country across Wisconsin and Minnesota with its many lakes, and crossing the Mississippi River, so clear and tranquil, to Fargo, North Dakota. North Dakota was so different from my mental picture — miles of level country well planted with flax and red clover, all but the badlands. Montana was dry, without much vegetation, more like home. Yellowstone Park is always enjoyable. Salt Lake — how good it was to be home again, safe, and to find everyone well.
Father and Mother enjoyed the car and the short trips we took: the Manti Temple, the St. George Temple, the canyons, Yellowstone Park, round about the valley and back and forth to Brigham City. It was a change from constant temple work. They had both done hundreds and thousands of names at the temples. Father still helped everyone as before, walking back and forth to the temple, but not as constantly. He never complained, just wanted to be busy. In May 1942 Father had a heart attack. He was in bed one month. Gradually he gained strength but was not able to return to the temple. Daily he had short walks and car rides, as far as gas rations would allow. On his last birthday, 29 June 1943, his health was failing. He passed away 17 July 1943 at home. Funeral services were, at his request, held in the Fourth Ward chapel, Brigham City, his former home ward. He was laid to rest beside his youngest son, Bert, in the Brigham City Cemetery 20 July 1943.
Before Father and Mother came to live at 229 C Street, I had planned a return to nursing, after a refresher course, but that dream did not happen.
Mother and I continued on in the home. The house, garden, Mother and my church work took up my time. A few months after Father’s passing Mother developed a severe case of shingles on the right side of her head. Her right ear was especially involved. She suffered much pain and distress for several months. Our rest was limited and we were confined to the house for a long period of time. I left only long enough to get food for us. Annie would stay with Mother. This affliction left a neuritis which affected her the rest of her life and gave her pain and distress constantly. Through all her suffering she was patient and never complained. Mother loved to walk locally, visiting neighbors or family. Her pleasure was to ride about in the car. She enjoyed seeing and trying new things. Before Father died, a large airplane was in Salt Lake City taking passengers for short rides. I asked Father and Mother if they would like to go for a ride. Father said, “ No.” Mother said, “Yes!” As I was feeling rather low, I asked Afton, a niece, who was visiting them at 1319 South 3rd East, if she would accompany Mother. Father quickly changed his mind. So with tickets in hand they boarded the plane. They flew as far south as Provo and around the valley, and enjoyed the new sensation and experience. (Mother’s first love was the car, she said she could get out and walk when she wanted to.) Father and Mother always enjoyed helping others. At the temple mother would say to Father. “Bring that man’s things home Friday, so I can wash and mend them.” There were many elderly people who had no one to do for them. They were always showing love for someone. Father had several widows he did pruning of shrubs and trees and gardening for while they still lived on Third East. When we first arrived in Utah Mother was afraid of the mountains (never having seen mountains before). She soon came to think of them as friends and home, as this comment shows. When Arthur and I were planning our trip to England in 1937, I said to Mother, “Would you like to go with us?” Immediately she said, “No, I would be afraid I would die and be buried there, I want to be buried in the shadow of these mountains.” Mother became a little less active the last year of her life. She had survived bronchitis at nine-five years of age, and welcomed the first of the fifth generation into the family, a boy, Matt Gillis, a great-grandson of Alf. She had a fairly heavy stroke at ninety-six years but made a complete recovery. Then at ninety-eight years she needed a wheel chair for a ride around the block in the evening. She sat for hours during the day on her porch swing, swaying gently back and forth and doing little things to help me like shelling peas, preparing beans or anything she could do sitting down. She was always busy crocheting, knitting, making rugs, and much reading. One of Mother’s little pleasures was collecting pennies for the “Primary Children’s Hospital” penny drive each February. Each time I came home from shopping she would ask me f I had any pennies, and of course I always had a few. I always felt sorry for the one who came on the penny drive, for the twenty or twenty-five dollars in pennies could be heavy if the district was large or the person small. When she could no longer help me with the dishes she said, “I am no good here, it is time I was gone.” My sister-in-law, Ruby, came down to help me. Wilford was with us two or three weeks in November and December; otherwise we were alone. Alf and Kay were in England for a year. Kay was an exchange teacher and Alf went along for company and a change. The end of November was Mother’s last ride in the car, to post a card and letter to Alf and Kay for Alf’s birthday. Mother passed away 8 March 1956 at home. (She had told me where her services should be held.) On 10 March 1956, services were held at Larkin Mortuary in Salt Lake City and burial was in the Brigham City Cemetery next to Father and her youngest child, Bert. Mother would have been ninety-nine years old, 23 March (fifteen days after her death.)
I was alone and lonely; not a pleasant experience. What to do, I did not want to plant my garden with no one to enjoy it with me. I needed to think and form some plans. Suddenly, I found myself preparing for a trip to England, a visit with Alf and Kay and to renew acquaintances with cousins in England. On 3 May 1956 I left Salt Lake by plane, my first flight, and I quite enjoyed the new sensation. The plane stopped at New York for the change to “Sabena” line, leaving for Gander, Newfoundland, and England. It was cold at Gander with snow on the ground. The plane left at 10:45 p.m. London time. Everyone settled down for the night. The Aurora Borealis began to display its wonders at intervals. I was seasick, in spite of the Dramamine I took before leaving New York, caused by some bumpy plane movements due to air turbulence. From the air, Ireland looked like a patchwork quilt. Arriving safely at Ringway airport, Manchester, Alf, Kay and their friends, Gladys and Bernard Eaves, met me and after customs we left for Irlam and the Eaves home. Everyone was friendly and I felt at home. I left for Barrow-in-Furness the next day to spend a few days with cousin Joyce, whom I had not met but had corresponded with. Joyce was the daughter of Harry Burrows who had been at our home in England in his early youth. We spent a lovely few days getting acquainted, talking and motoring through the English lake district. Alf and Kay drove up in their little Austin car “Fuji” and took me to Northampton, the home of our cousins. One cousin thought a family reunion would gather the families together for a day of fun and getting acquainted, after fifty years. Thirty cousins and guests gathered at “Princethorpe” the modern home on a small estate, of cousin Rhoda. (Rhoda was a six month old baby when we left England in 1902.) She was the youngest first cousin present. A lovely sunny day of feasting, talking and picture taking was enjoyed. I had two visits to Olney; one with Alf and Kay; one with cousins Frank and May. Maud, Rose, and Rhoda completed the family of Uncle Tom. Fred, the other boy, was killed in World War I in 1914. Alf, Kay and I joined a “Cook” tour covering France, Holland (in beautiful tulip time), Belgium and Germany. My seat companion was a lovely Scotch lassie, Jean McPherson. It was a fun loving group on the bus, a pleasant and relaxing time. We next spent several days in Ireland enjoying the Irish people, countryside, and Dublin. We took a day train to Belfast, passing England’s largest lake, “Lough Neagh.” In Belfast we spent one full afternoon as we sat, watched, and listened to “piping bands” as they piped and marched in contest. For the first time an Irish band won the prize. There were fifty Irish bands and many bands from Scotland taking part. To me Belfast seemed cold and unfriendly after warm and colorful Dublin. One afternoon was spent with cousin Rhoda as she drove through a fruit and garden section of England; plum, apple and pear orchards; lovely vegetable gardens. We stopped for tea at a quaint old town, Moreton-on-Marsh. I spent a few days with each of the cousins. Each was enjoyable and had different places to go and things to see. All but Frank who loved on the coast. Gladys and Bernard Eaves took us to Wales, over almost the same route Arthur and I followed in 1937. I spent a few days with Nellie and Reg, cousins on Mother’s side, meeting for the first time grand children of Aunt Polly. Nellie and Reginald Dex and their two boys Eric and Roger, Nellie’s sister, Norah; two brothers, Stanley and Leslie, their waves and children; visiting Nellie’s mother Emma Clayson Ogden, widow of Harry Ogden, son of Aunt Polly; also Charlie and his wife. Charlie — a child raised by Aunt Polly.
I went alone to Scotland and found many interesting places and things to see and do. Edinburgh and surrounding country with its wild flowers, heather beginning to bloom, the mountains, (reminding me of home) and often rugged countryside. Next I was on my way to Inverness along Lock Ness, a long narrow loch, with hills on both sides. I had one boat ride on famous Loch Lomand and the next day flew home from the Glasgow airport.
In late summer I joined some friends, who were going into Indian country. Tuba City as our center, we branched out into all of the surrounding villages. It was a hot, dry country with interesting people, warm and friendly. A nice change with things to see, especially Monument Valley’s renowned sandstone formations, including “The Mittens.”
Early in June 1957 I joined a tour going to the Northwest. At the foot of “Going to the Sun” pass we waited an hour for the road to be cleared of a foot of new fallen snow, it was still snowing a the summit. We stopped for a boat ride on Waterton Lakes and stayed overnight at lovely Lake Louise. Next day we had a fun ride on the Columbian Icefield Glacier. Lofty, beautiful mountains, many trees and an enjoyable tour.
In late summer I went with Ernest and Ruby to visit their daughter, Roma, her husband Verlin, and family , in Indianapolis. We stopped at Nauvoo, Liberty Jail, Carthage Jail, President Truman’s home, and crossed the “Mormon Bridge.” The change and visit were enjoyable but I was glad to be home again and as I thought in good health. Now I wondered about the future. Should I stay in the home and remodel it so I could have company, or move to an apartment? A visit to the doctor settled the problem. He told me I must give up all hard work, such as my garden and lawn and take care of my back, with two badly worn disks. I decided to sell the home and on 27 November 1957 I moved to #17 Hillcrest Apartments, three flights up. In June 1959 I moved to the Canyon Road Apartments for three months while waiting for a ground floor apartment at the Hillcrest. On 29 September 1959, I moved to my present apartment. Now being in a new ward I was released from my Church duties as second counselor in the Relief Society presidency.
In September 1958 the London Temple was ready for dedication. A friend invited me to accompany her and I agreed. Charlotte went early, by boat, to visit in Germany. I flew to England to visit with Joyce and the other cousins. Charlotte and I met in Vienna. We visited in and around Vienna, including a tour along the “Blue Danube” and countryside. Then we went to Italy, which was enjoyed as far as Rome. Next we went to southern France, staying in Nice, and going on a tour to Canne St. Trophet and Grasse, the perfume section. In Nice there was lovely bathing but the pebble beach was hard to walk on. We flew from France to London for the temple dedication, 9 September 1958. President David O. McKay gave the dedicatory prayer. It was a thrill to be there, and to be able to do a temple session, also. Rain fell all day until time to wait for the bus to return to London. (It was our privilege to do a session in the Swiss Temple while in Switzerland and witness the sealing of a couple who were on a previous tour.) From London we flew on to visit parks and the countryside in Norway, Sweden, and Denmark. There were many new and interesting things to see and do. Each country was different but each was enjoyed. Denmark was the original setting for”Hamlet.” The hamlet deep in the countryside, the stone wall, heavy building, somber atmosphere, all perfect.
Charlotte left me in Copenhagen to return home from Hamburg by boat. I left Copenhagen a few hours later by plane on the “North Pole Flight.” A few minutes out and one engine started to throw sparks like a rocket. It was quickly shut off, curtains drawn. We flew around dumping gasoline into the ocean and landed amid fire trucks, and all equipment necessary in case of trouble. WE were guests of the company for the night in a new , lovely hotel outside Copenhagen. Another start was made next morning and all went well. Thick fog shrouded Iceland. We came down in South Stromfjord, Greenland, still in Denmark. It was very cold, twenty-three degrees; the vegetation, the little there was, was brown and frozen stiff. Greenland, as we flew over, seemed solid ice and snow, mountains of ice and rippled snow. We were again delayed; engine trouble. Again as Winnipeg, Canada, we were delayed. The company invited us to breakfast at the airport. The flight ended at Los Angeles just in time to rush me through customs and take a waiting plane for Salt Lake City. I was most grateful to be home safely.
One day as I was walking east on North Temple, under the Chestnut trees, I felt something drop down the back of my neck, and on down my back. I forgot the incident until the next day when I was bathing, I felt a bump on my back. I picked at it and finally something fell on the floor. It was a bug of some kind. I stepped on it and found it hard to crush, my shoes made no impression so I went for my little hammer and finally crushed it. A grey hard shelled bug. I later told one of my brothers about the experience and was promptly told I had had a wood tick on em. I was glad I was able to remove it before it had buried itself in my back. Wood ticks in Salt Lake City!
Our tour was under way for the Northwest in 1959, our first stop — Yellowstone Park. There had just been an earthquake at the park and we walked across the temporary bridge over the Madison River, not trusting the new bridge. Our group was among the first to see the devastation left by the earthquake. The new lake, huge rocks, mud, road disruptions and disorganization everywhere all indicated much destruction.
As we traveled on into Canada, we stopped at the Canadian Temple at Cardston. In enjoyed going through a session at the temple. I had not been there before.
We visited Banff National Park in British Columbia and enjoyed again beautiful Lake Louise, the Columbia Icefields, and another ride on the glacier. Our return home was uneventful.
On 1 May 1961 I welcomed Rose, a cousin from England to Salt Lake. Everywhere was fresh and lovely after a shower of rain. Lilacs were in bloom. Ernest, Ruby, and I had many pleasant days in Bryce Canyon, Grand Canyon, Zion Park and later taking Rose to Auburn, Washington to visit relatives there. Early morning 12 June, Ernest, Ruby, and I met Rose at Bozeman, Montant and continued on through Yellowstone Park, before returning to Brigham City and Salt Lake. Ernest, Ruby, Rose and I left Salt Lake City by automobile for Indianapolis on 30 June to visit Roma and family. Rose was on her way home. It was a hot journey to Indianapolis. All good things come to an end; on 5 July we said goodbye to Rose at the Indianapolis station and wished her a good voyage home. Ernest, Ruby, Rebecca, Nancy and I journeyed home without incident.
In August 1962 I visited the Seattle Exposition, again Charlotte was my companion. The nicest things I remember were having dinner in our only “space needle” visit and having a ride on the “mono” rail into Seattle and back to the fair. The rest of the fair, as always, included too much walking and seeing too much.
In June 1962 with my friend Charlotte, I had an interesting change going to “Sun Valley” and the “Craters of the Moon.” Sun Valley was a beautiful, peaceful place; the Craters of the Moon was a disturbing place with its crumpled and distorted blackness. It covers quite an extensive area. In late summer I went to Yellowstone Park again with Ernest, Ruby and Nancy. And, as it had been many times before, it was interesting and enjoyable.
Annie and R. D. had their golden wedding anniversary on 30 October 1963, the second in the family. Wilford and Esther enjoyed their golden wedding anniversary on 13 September 1961 with a family gathering.
Joyce, a cousin from Barrow-in-France, Lance, England, came for a visit, July 1963. (I met her in England in 1956 and 1958.) Ernest, Ruby, Joyce and I had many pleasant days together, in and out of the canyons; Bryce, Zion’s, Grand, Cedar Breaks, Yellowstone — each a joy and a surprise to Joyce. She loved our hot sunny days. On 2 August I accompanied Joyce as far as Chicago to see that she transferred to the right plane for New York. I continued on to Indianapolis to visit with Roma and family, and returned home with Ernest and Ruby, who were there visiting.
A tour to my first “World’s Fair,” was in July 1964 to New York City. There was too much to see, too much walking in the heat. There were wonderful buildings full of new and different things. The replica of the Salt Lake Temple was most beautiful. The tour continued on to Williamsburg; Richmond, Virginia; Washington D. C.; and Nauvoo — now being restored. I found it interesting. (The home of Brigham Young and the Kimball homes were under restoration.) We arrived back in Salt Lake City in the late afternoon, happy to be home again.
Late summer found three of us in Indian country, Arizona. We visited Window Rock, with its different formations and “Canyonde Chelly” full of history and ruins. I stood on my first quicksand bank in a small stream. It was hot country but the different Indian buildings and ruins were fascinating. A canyon of high walls and colored rock, and many flash floods, an Indian guide was our escort.
In November 1964 I was invited by a friend to accompany her to the dedication of the Oakland Temple, 17 to 19 November. We attended the first session 17 November 1964 with President David O. McKay, seated in a wheel chair, giving the dedicatory prayer. We enjoyed a tour of the temple. It was a beautiful clear day.
I was a member of a delightful tour in 1965, we stopped at all the church historical places. What a change in Nauvoo. The Hill Cumorah — at last I had returned. Before the pageant started I climbed to the top of the Hill Cumorah and found ti much changed since Arthur and I were there in 1937. At that time there was a road from the south. We drove to the top of the hill and to the monument and were greeted there by two missionaries. The pageant was beautiful, a large crowd present. The tour continued on to New York, Boston (we went all over “Old Ironsides” in the Harbor), Connecticut, Rhode Island, Plymouth Rock to see the Mayflower replica, on through New Hampshire and Maine, and on to Quebec, Canada. French was spoken everywhere in Quebec. We stayed at the renowned and lovely “Chatuar Frontenac.” In Montreal we found much to see and enjoy: the city, churches, the locks, beautiful surrounding country and always the river. We had a delightful boat trip on the St. Lawrence River, through the Thousand Islands. Niagara Falls is always a thrill, and a pleasant memory of my visit there with Arthur in 1937. We had a lovely drive through part of Canada which was so clean and well kept. I arrived home tired and happy to be in Salt Lake again.
Alaska! A once in a lifetime tour over the Alcan Highway. Late in August 1966 Charlotte and I were part of a tour to Alaska by bus. It was cool, beautiful weather and new and different territory to see. After Calgary, everything was new and interesting. Edmonton, much of the town was torn up for rebuilding. At Dawson Creek we entered the Alcan Highway a graveled highway; we continued on to Fort Nelson, (no fort); Watson Lake, (no lake); Whitehorse, (no horse, and our last good sized town); Tetlin Junction, USA and surface highway. What a change from dusty graveled roads. Fairbanks, Alaska, our goal — mostly primitive facilities along the way and much building going on. Everywhere and everything was different, beautiful scenery with wild animals and birds, moose, deer, red fox, and ptarmigan in mid-stage of turning winter white. The new university buildings at Fairbanks had heat meters to start cars in wintertime sub-zero weather. We went by airplane to Nome and Kotzebue above the Arctic Circle. Kotzebue — a small town just off the sandy beach. The whale skin boat ride was a different experience. We enjoyed the beautiful clear skies and the blue ocean and at Nome, enjoyed a ride on the dog sled (sled on wheels for summer). In Nome our hotel was on the beach side of the road where there was no frost; the other side of the road was frozen. “Honey buckets” (primitive facilities) were the limited hotel accommodations. Food was very expensive, milk was eighty-five cents a glass. Our morning trip, starting at 4:00 a.m., to view Mt. McKinley gave us a glimpse before clouds lowered. Herds of caribou were everywhere. Beautiful ground cover added to our love for streams (grey with glacier silt), luxuriant growth around ski lifts amid snowbanks. We picked wild raspberries growing along the roadside. Blueberries and blueberry pies were part of an enjoyable menu. Large, wonderful vegetables were sold at a roadside stand in Matanuska Valley. They were eaten on the bus — green peas, turnips, carrots, green onions — very good! Small seaplanes were on all the lakes. Private planes and fishing fleets were in all the coves. To Kodiak Island for a day by plane; stopping at Homer; Valdex, our overnight stop, was the only place where we saw the “northern lights” and earthquake ruins. The bus was driven onto a flat track. At halfway, the down train and the up train stop, the passengers were served lunch, family style, in a large room filled with long tables. We were served moose meat and found it very good with less fat than beef. We stopped at the Mendenhall Glacier before arriving at Juneau. At Juneau we watched boats unload salmon at the canneries. Unexpectedly we spent two nights and one day at Ketchikan (and I had the best ham sandwiches I have ever had) waiting for dock repairs. At Prince Rupert we walked about town on lovely clean streets, ate and enjoyed good English food. We traveled by bus from Kelsey Bay to Nanaimo and had dinner on the boat as we crossed to Vancouver. I had the “flu” and felt miserable. We had a few hours sleep at Yakima and arrived at Salt Lake City later than planned — 1:00 a.m. but safe. Frank met me at the bus stop and brought me home.
My idea of returning to nursing seemed farther away each year. I joined the “pink ladies” which gave me some contact with the hospital, and I enjoyed this for two years 1967-1968. I resigned in early 1969 when Joyce wished to visit again.
In October 1967 I went by plane to Hawaii with a group of friends. (We met the rest of the tour group who had gone by boat, in Hawaii.) It was a happy carefree time. I enjoyed the beautiful flowers, fruits, and lovely drives about the islands, the beautiful ocean and beaches, a time of rest and relaxing. A boat trip to the monument erected in the harbor, to the memory of the men and ships lost in the “Pearl Harbor” attack 7 December 1941 — a beautiful but sad reminder of that day.
The wonders of Carlsbad Caverns were mine in 1968. Seeing the swarms of bats leaving the caverns in the evening and returning in the morning, the immense rooms, beautiful and unusual formations, coolness of the underground, all made it an enjoyable time. We finished the trop by going across New Mexico and over the lovely, beautiful Colorado roads to Durango, Colorado and then home.
Joyce came in July 1969. We took a bus tour to California by way of the mountain passes to Yosemite Park. The first mountain road bus trip of the year and we found late snow still in shaded ravines. At the park there were crowds of people everywhere. I missed the fallen Wawona tree Arthur and I had driven through in 1936. We gathered very large pine cones (twelve to fourteen inches long) under sugar pines. Yosemite Falls was a beautiful as before, the air crisp and clear. After leaving Yosemite it was on to fog shrouded San Francisco for two days, and a side tour for two days through the redwood trees, then to Los Angeles where we met friends of Joyce. Returning we came across the barren salt flats. Joyce was surprised at the desolate salt flats — so different from her mental picture. We were home again and glad to be back safely.
Annie had been in ill health for some time. Afton or Beth stayed with their mother while I was away with Joyce. Now, I spent much time with Annie each day and many nights, alternating with R. D. She passed away 16 October 1969 at home. Funeral services were at the Seventeenth Ward church. She was buried in the Brigham City Cemetery on the Peters burial plot. Richard David Peters, Annie’s husband, ®. D. as I called him) lived alone at the apartment after Annie’s passing, checked and attended by his sister Mary. When I last saw him he seemed in good spirits and active. R. D. Passed away July 1972 and was buried beside Annie in the Brigham City Cemetery, 17 July 1972.
Oberammergau, Germany – The Passion Play – given every ten years, was being produced in 1970. Elsie, a niece and I decided to attend. We left Salt Lake Airport 8 August 1970 to join the “Olsen” tour in the New York Pan Am building. The 747 plan accommodates almost 500 passengers. We flew from London to Holland to pick up our bus. Holland is a country of canals and flowers. Everywhere was clean and fresh. From Holland into Belgium – the countryside green and peaceful. Brussels looked different to me with its new high-rise buildings. The square, still beautiful and dignified, I enjoyed seeing it again. At the site of the “Battle of the Bulge” a lovely memorial has been erected in the shape of a star. There was a section named for each state of the United States. How good it was to see “Old Glory” waving in the breeze. We looked forward to Germany and the Passion Play. Nature favored us with heave rain during the play. However, we enjoyed the production. The sun came out on our way to the hotel. Leaving Germany, we crossed into Switzerland with its green beauty and snowy mountains. On the “Mt. Pitaus” tour we encountered fog on the summit. Leaving the fog we left for Innsbruck, a quiet town at the foot of high mountains. I had been there before in 1958. Over Brenner pass, we dropped down into Italy and continued on to Venice and the Grand Canal. In Florence we found ancient beauty in many forms. (I bought gloves in Florence.) In Rome we found much to enjoy – ruins, and much new city growth. We enjoyed Trivoli with its thousands of fountains, every size and shape produced by water from a diverted river.
Arriving at Pisa, and the leaning tower – this was something I had long wanted to see. (There were too many steps for me to climb.) We encountered a light snowstorm in the mountains. We passed over “Genoa” on an elevated road and spent the afternoon and night in “La Spezia” on the bay – a lovely setting. One beautiful ship came in and docked as we watched. Leaving La Spezia we traveled through the Tuscany Mountains to Nice, France for a day and night. We continued along the Mediterranean coast to Monaco, now grown with high rise buildings. It was still beautiful on the bay. Famous “Monte Carlo,” Elsie went through the casino with the tour. I had been there previously. Our next stop “Avigone” and on to the Rhone River, then to Lyon and Le Soane (battleground of World War I), continued onto Beaune, Fontainbleau, and Paris, where we stayed at the same hotel Arthus and I stayed in 1937, (du Louvre). We left Paris for New York aboard a 747 plane and in New York we transferred to United Airlines, and arrived home safely.
During our growing up years we heard Father speak of Grandfather learning the shoe work under Josiah Covington in Liverpool. As Wilford had not found the Covington name in his genealogy research he wondered how and when Josiah entered the family. I said he must have married Samuel Freeman’s sister. Wilford said Samuel had only one sister, Isabel. The information we had came from two books on the Olney Parish register. To keep me busy Wilford asked me to find the connection. It was not until Wilford had passed away that I made much headway. I finally found a film of the Olney Parish register and found a later sister of Samuel Freeman married to Josiah Covington. Wilford had Susan’s name, the work had been done so he had all but the connecting link. Elsie wrote a short history of Susan Freeman Covington for the “Daughters of the Pioneers” and it is included in this family history.
Years ago I saw the Black Hills “Passion Play” produced by and featuring Josef Meier, at Kingsbury Hall, University of Utah. It was the focal point of a to Spearfish, South Dakota, and produced in a natural setting. Mabel Oldham and I joined the tour in 1972. We went through Yellowstone Park and Wyoming to Spearfish, South Dakota. It is a delightful small town. We went to the play prepared for a cold evening, but it was balmy and most comfortable. I enjoyed the evening very much, a lovely setting with the low mountains for a backdrop. After the performance we were dashing to the bus when we saw Kay, Marilyn, and the family on the way to their car. Next we went to “Mount Rushmore.” The immense size of the sculpture, the beauty and grandeur cannot be appreciated unless seen close up. There were many donkeys in the valley below; also, a large herd of buffalo, all sizes. Our next stop was Denver, for a day and night to enjoy a large city. Then home, the best place on earth.
To see Scandinavia by bus, Elsie and I joined a tour on 1 May 1973. We stopped off in Scotland to enjoy Edinburgh and Glasgow and then went down to Barrow-in-Furness by bus for a few days with Joyce and Violet. Two days we spent in the lake district, the weather was lovely, most unusual. We spent a few hours in Olney and the old home, now much changed and improved. Again, we enjoyed seeing our cousins: Rose, Doreen, Nora and Mac, and spent a short hour in their lovely home. We had dinner at “The Swan” and a short car ride. Later Nora and Mac came to our motel room to see a modern motel, English style.
We joined the tour in Bergin, Norway. Our room was dainty and fresh. It was feather beds again for us to sleep under. (Feather beds for covers are used in many countries, especially Germany.) Our tour started into the countryside, passing many lakes, rivers, waterfalls, fjords, too early for many wild flowers, a few fruit trees in bloom. It was very cool as we climbed up the mountains to Stalheim. From Stalheim the bus traveled down the ravine, around hairpin curves such as I had never seen before, with waterfalls along the way. We had an excellent driver for a large bus. I almost held my breath going around the curves because I could see no ground from the bus window. “Sougne” fjord is the largest and longest of the fjords – our boat ride on it was smooth and restful. Next we were on our way to “Tyin” up in the mountains above the timberline. Soon we were in a land of snow and frozen lakes. Snow was still falling, no trees in sight, a few people were skiing. At Tyin the evening and night were spent at the ski lodge – warm and comfortable. In the morning we traveled down to beautiful Oslo – much larger than on my previous visit. We visited Frogner Park, Kon Tiki, a Viking ship, and old forts. Leaving Oslo, we encountered lower mountains, cultivated land, fewer lakes and rivers. Entering Sweden, we saw the same kind of landscape with more trees. At Karlstaad the sun was bright at 4:00 a.m. We enjoyed blankets to sleep under. At Stockholm we had a pleasant boat ride on the Baltic Sea. At Skanson’s for dinner, it was drafty and I caught a cold. From Goteberg, Sweden we had a three hour boat ride across the Kattegat to Fredickshaven, Denmark. The water was calm for the boar ride. Soon our bus was going through green rolling hills, sunshine and flowers everywhere the bus stopped for a rest stop. Arrhus, the Odense, the home of Hans Christian Anderson, the author of “The Ugly Duckling.” The “Viking” burial mounds are large and grass covered. We enjoyed apple, pear, and cherry orchards in bloom after seeing only green trees in Norway and Sweden. A ferry ride to Zeeland Island, and Copenhagen, Denmark, with its 1,400,000 population and the “Little Mermaid” by the sea. The Palace and the changing of the guards is an interesting show. The “Tivoli Gardens” were lovely with beautiful flowers, entertainments, restaurants and pleasant surroundings for our lunch break. We did mingle wit the crowds of people as we strolled in “walking street” where no automobiles are allowed and there are shops in every kind. Quite new was our going to the plane on an elevated, electric walkway. Aboard the plane we had a smooth ride to New York. There we encountered pouring rain, and a bumpy ride home on United Airlines. I was slightly airsick before landing. Again, we were home safely.
Well, it’s 1973 and what a change to go gathering wild asparagus. I was in Brigham visiting Ernest and ruby when Dean and Florence said they were going across Bear River to gather asparagus and asked Ruby and me to go along. A beautiful spring day. Dean with the help of Julie, but the boat in the river and soon we were down the river and on the other side. We gathered an abundance of asparagus and after a ride down the river and back we went home to work.
The next day Dean and Florence were taking Florence’s mother for a boat ride on Willard Bay. As Ruby and I were included, I borrowed some slacks from Ruby as I had none and it was thought necessary for my comfort. Again, with the help of Julie, the boat was launched on the bay. What a lovely change it was – the fresh breeze and smooth sailing. Something to remember and enjoy over and over again.
Several times Alf asked me to get the family together for a family reunion, and I said “No!” – that I had on several occasions planned family gatherings, and someone else should take over. Finally I gave in and asked Dean, Ida, and Don to call the family for a reunion as near to Father’s birthday as possible. They sent out invitations and a small group came out for the day. The next year a larger group came out so the yearly gathering has continued. Don passed away in 1984 so Ida and Dean have carried on.
In 1974, Lillian Harris and I joined a tour to Hawaii. We spent three days on Kanai, and one week in Honolulu. We enjoyed a lovely afternoon and evening at the college, and the Polynesian Village show. The temple and grounds were lovely to see. We enjoyed our temple session. We were asked if we would like to be present at a Japanese wedding. The ceremony was in the Japanese language. The bride had just arrived in Hawaii from Japan. This we enjoyed. On our way back to the city, the moon seemed to rise out of the ocean, a beautiful picture. The humidity of the islands seemed to bother me this time. I was glad to return home.
My first experience in church work was teaching a Second Intermediate class in Sunday School in Brigham City Fourth Ward. Bu this time our church building had undergone remodeling and we had upstairs class rooms, instead of curtain drawn class rooms in the general assembly room where one could hear several lessons at one time. My mind goes back to the first ward dinner we attended in the Fourth Ward. The meeting house was one large room. Choir seats and stand for the bishopric and church officers were at the north end. The entrance (from the south) or vestry was a rounded room with hooks around the walls for coats, etc. A stairway led to an upper room or prayer room, as it was called. This day the vestry was piled high with benches from the church: all but enough to seat people around the long tables. Each person brought his own plate, knife, for, spoon, and glass. Each family was assigned certain foods which they brought in pans or dishes to set directly on the table. It was a friendly, happy feast. A program was given during dinner. Father and Mother sang a number. The program had not been assigned or rehearsed. There were no dishes to wash and little cleaning up to do. Everyone enjoyed the day.
When the church needed a yearly cleaning everyone took their bucket, broom or brush, cleaning clothes and lunch, and worked all day. The men did the heaviest work. I was secretary / treasurer of the Forth Ward Primary in Brigham City for on year before I moved to Salt Lake City, 4 April 1915. In the fall of 1941 I became a counselor to Blanche Haymond in the Eighteenth Ward Relief Society for five years. We had many experiences and extra-curricular activities. The ladies were called upon to do many things on the farm. (Most of our young men were away at war.) We topped beets along with the older men and young people, loaded beet trucks, planted tomato plants, picked up potatoes at harvest time, and one day gathered carrots after a light skiff of snow and in muddy ground. They had been loosened in the ground. One day we went into the field and picked corn, husked it and canned it the same day. We were some very tired people. We spent frequent days at Welfare Square doing fruits, vegetables, washing bottles or making soup. We enjoyed doing our yearly “ward dinner,” also, “old folks day dinners,” serving the old folks at Liberty Park and weaving rugs at the ward cottage. I did ward “genealogical sealings” for three years. When enough genealogical sheets were turned in for sealings, I prepared them at the temple for sealings, called proxies, reserved a night at the temple, helped with the sealings and was generally responsible for the evening work. After Mother passed away in 1956 I was asked to be second counselor to Lillian Harris in the Eighteenth Ward Relief Society and was with Lillian for three years. I was second counselor in the Relief Society in the Eighteenth Ward for the year 1964 to 1965. I started quilting in 1941 and enjoyed the association of the quilters. During the years 1960 to 1975, I was talked into marking quilts, then they added painting baby quilts. WE quilted one baby quilt a week. Spending each Relief Society morning quilting, besides our regular work day. We made quilts from baby size to Queen size. Most of them sold locally but some went to the east coast and some to the west coast. I was unofficial quilt supervisor for five years and had to give it up when my physical problems insisted. I did help when and where I could. Our most recent change in ward boundaries, 1980, made the ward all hills and stairs. I gave up my visiting teaching activities, which had lasted all my Relief Society years.
On 14 September 1979, I was surprised to find myself in the hospital for six days with ruptured appendix. I recovered without complications. At present, 1980, I seem quite well for my age.
The years pass rapidly, here it is 1984 and I have only the usual day by day activities to keep me busy and active. This year brought a very lovely change. Roma was taking her mother Ruby (Ernest’s wife), back to her home in Indianapolis and I asked if I could go with them. What a lovely change in my quite life. The countryside everywhere was so green, from an abundance of moisture throughout the land, the rivers running bank to bank or over their banks and at last I saw the mighty Mississippi, as I had pictured it in my mind, (only to be disappointed each time I crossed it to find it very low and very muddy). The river was full bank to bank and covering some low land along its banks. At last I was satisfied. After a lovely three days with Roma, Verlin and Ruby, I had another desire filled as I flew home. Once more to fly through the skies.
In September 1984 Kay (Alf’s Kay) came down and took me to her home over Peach Day. An enjoyable change. She returned me home along with a bushel of lovely Brigham peaches for my bottles, and later use.
In 1985 Roma and Verlin gave me a lovely day seeing their new home in Layton, Eileen’s home in Fruit Heights – where formerly cherry and apricot orchards abounded. A last visit with Ruby and a look at the cabin and local spots, dinner at their home and back to my apartment.
My life has now quieted down considerably. I enjoy attending church and Relief Society meetings. I am physically unable to do other things in church such as visiting teaching (too many stairs to climb), etc. No, I am not ill, just cautious.
Now I want to say how very much I owe my parents. Theirs was the hard part and they sacrificed much in their new life in Utah. They were doing very well in England. Father was well respected, and, quite our of the ordinary, was buying his own home. I may never have lived in this beautiful land if our parents had not joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and with courage given by our Heavenly Father faced the uncertain future in a new land. Their desire was to benefit their family and give them opportunities not afforded in their native land. Beginning life anew at age forty-three for Father and forty-five for Mother, with a family to rear, was no small mountain to face. They suffered many hardships, sacrificed much and found the work was hard and the hours and days longer than they had known was possible on earth. Providing food and shelter was no small task. We all helped where we could but they had the work and responsibility. A new life indeed! With town and stores two miles away and not stocked with the variety of foods as they are today, winter supplies had to be purchased and stored; sugar, flour, hay and fruit. Potatoes and carrots were put into a pit, and cabbage put head down in straw in the ground, squash in the hay, apples stored in the cellar. Many new things to learn – how to milk and care for a cow – how to handle a horse and buggy – many new and complicated things.
Father knew he would find troubles and trials in Utah. I have heard him sing many times the hymn on page twenty-one of our hymnal, “Think not when you gather to Zion, your troubles and trials are through.” He learned that the hard way, day by day. His favorite hymn was “How Firm a Foundation.” That hymn and his faith carried him through the years.
The years have taken their toll of the family. First Bert was taken in his youth years ago. Next Harry at sixty-eight years. Then his wife, Effie. Annie was third of our family and then her husband R. D. Our next was Wilford and then his wife, Esther. Alf was next, leaving his wife Kay, with us. His first wife, Olga, passed away years ago near the time my husband left me. And now Ernest and Ruby are the last to go. I am so grateful to have Kay (Alf’s wife) to share my long years with me.
Now I do not have a car I do not see much of the family. In past years it was a pleasure to stop in to see Afton in Cedar City and say “Hello” or drive to Pocatello for a visit, spend time in Brigham with Alf, Kay, Ernest and Ruby and keep in touch with all in Brigham. Now my only contact is at the family reunion and it is good to see those who came out. Those in Salt Lake I see occasionally and enjoy them.
The past years Elsie has been very kind, coming down often to take me where I needed to go and helping in many ways. I have depended too much on the kindness of Frank and Wilhelmina, how much I realized when they were away two years in New Zealand. Many times I have enjoyed the fruits of their hands, from their garden. Ruth and Greg were most kind during those years, in grocery shopping and carrying heavy loads.
Now at age ninety I am still enjoying my days, each in turn and so far getting out and about each day, usually walking to town with Mary for various reasons and items and returning home to relax and sometimes nap.
After all the years and times I have looked at grandfather clocks I have on to enjoy. After hearing that Kay (Ernest and Ruby’s son) had been building clocks, I asked if he would do one for me. It is beautiful and I love it! The chimes an deep tones strike on the hour.
On 26 August 1985 I had a beautiful day in the Uinta mountains. Kay and Marilyn took Dean, Florence and me to their cabin for lunch. It is a beautiful view from their window, and some of the leaves were already turning into fall colors. One more view of Mirror Lake and the Uintas.
[Ida Freeman Winter died 1 Feb 1999.]