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History of George and Eldora Potts

 

            My mother, Eldora Lefler, called Dode, was born June 6, 1860, in Tama County, Iowa.  She was the daughter of Ebenezer and Julia Hensley Lefler.  Her father and his brothers and sisters moved from Canada to Iowa.  It was prairie country, no trees.  The first thing they did was build them sod houses.  They cut big squares of grass roots, piled them on top of one another until they had the walls built.  Mother said these houses were comfortable.  Warm in the winter and cool in the summer.  The next thing they built was large cellars.  They had two things to be afraid of - - prairie fires and tornadoes.  Only once while they lived here did they run to the cellar.  Then the storm changed its course and passed them by.

            Once they were in the path of a prairie fire.  The men plowed big strips of land while the women and children made back fires.  They built small fires, then put them out until they had big strips of burned ground.  The fire was put out before it reached them. 

            One of the brothers went to Missouri to buy large mule teams for all the rest of the families.  They farmed with these big mule teams.  I do not know how long they stayed in Iowa.

            They then came to Salt Lake City on the train.  Gramps and his brother John’s farm was somewhere around where Liberty Park now is.  Grandpa was a miller by trade and helped Uncle John a lot.

            Grandpa’s family, Marsh Lefler, the Bowers and the Bisel family then came to Woodland.  Grandpa only had a small acreage, but it was well kept.  When we were kids, it was fun to go up there. He had bees.

            Grandpa (Ebenezer) Lefler lived at the place under the hill from the cemetery.  We lived down where the Petersons used to live.  Mother took us up to Grandpa’s.  The boys went to play with Uncle John’s boys.   Grandpa had a nice swing back of the house.  There was a tall row of large cottonwood trees.  A little stream of water ran down toward the river.  The south side of the house was the cellar and a shed.  A path separated it from the house.  When I went to swing, Grandpa said, “Be quiet, Irene,  the bees are going to swarm.”  He had his bees under this shed.

            I had been swinging some time when Grandpa came out of the house and said the bees were swarming.  The bees were all gathering outside the hive.  He said, “Run, tell uncle John (the son).”  I ran, met some of the boys, told them.  They ran screaming, “The bees are swarming!”  Uncle John came, told us kids, “Get some cans out of the trash can and beat on them.”  There were six of us.  We sure made a noise.  Uncle John said, “When they swarm, fill your cans with water, throw it in the air; anything to make them settle.”

            Soon a cloud of bees came flying through the air.  The boys threw water in the air.  The bees flew toward the trees and settled on a small branch in the top of one of them.

            They sat their bee box at the foot of the tree and got a tall ladder.  Uncle John got a saw and climbed up the ladder.  He was very careful about sawing the branch off.  He came down carrying the branch and the bees.  We held our breath.  He got to the ground, took his gloved hand and brushed the bees in the box and put the lid on.  We asked, “Will the stay?”  He said, “Yes, if we have the queen bee.”

            Uncle John and Grandpa were quite proud, for it was a large swarm.  But that was over 60 years ago.

            Grandfather did his own blacksmithing.  He had a shop with a bellows.  It was fun to see the sparks leap up in the air from the forge.  They had a big cellar filled with good things to eat.  The fed and killed their own meat.  Always raised a fine garden.  He always had a raspberry patch.

            My mother was 16 when she married Hyrum Rose.  After mother and Hyrum were married they went to Salt Lake City.  Mother said the homes were far apart where they lived.  When the wind blew, it had a clean sweep through the valley.  Mother said the dust blew into the air like clouds and all you could see was the tumble weeds rolling down the flat.

            Mother loved to dance, and so did Hyrum.  After this I think they had a farm.  They moved to Snyderville, near Park City.  They had cattle then.  Mother told of them having the cattle corralled and the cowboys helping brand, etc.

            One day the children were playing in the yard, just outside the door.  Mother heard a loud noise.  Someone yelled, “Get in the house!”  She rushed out, got Sade, as she was a very little girl.  The others scrambled in the house.  Just as they got in, the bull hit the side of the wall by the door.  A cowboy had caught the bull with his lariat.

            From Mother’s marriage to Hyrum six children were born – Richard, Edward, Maud, Sarah, Frances and Vivien.  Vivien died at an early age.  The rest all grew up to have families of their own.

            Once Mother left Frances (Frant) in the house with the baby, telling her to leave the baby in the rocking chair on some pillows while Mother went to do some chores.  Frant thought she would help more, so she rocked the baby too hard, I suppose.

 Anyway, the baby fell up against to stove.  It burned one side of her face.

            Mother and Hyrum lived up at the saw mill above the Stewart Ranch.  Mother cooked for the mill hands.  She had a crowd and anyone that came along, Hyrum would ask them in to eat.  She said Rhodes of the lost Rhodes mine used to come through the country with his pack string.  He stayed at their home.  Mother said she saw the gold nuggets he packed in his pouch.  They never knew where he got them.  After they lived at the saw mill they moved to Woodland.

            At first Mother and Hyrum got along fairly well.  But then he liked to gamble and did more of it.  When he won he was happy.  Mother said when he lost, he would sulk.  He stayed out to the barn a lot of the time.  He did have a bad temper at times.  He would do things in the house that he felt sorry about after.  He had lots of friends.  Dad knew him and like him.

            Hyrum left home and was gone two or three weeks or more at a time.  So he deeded the place to Mother because he was afraid of signing the place away on some of his gambling debts.  Mother said he either came home with plenty of money or was flat busted.  When he came home with plenty of money he would show his purse to the boys.  They thought he was made of gold.  They never knew the times he came home broke.  Mother said he dolled up when he went to Salt Lake.  He had a trunk full of stiff white shirts.   Mother said she would stand for hours ironing them.  He would come home, go to the trunk, take a shirt out of the trunk, roll it all up and throw it in the corner.  Sometimes he would go through the whole trunk and maybe wear the last shirt.

            One time Frant was very sick.  They thought she had meningitis and was dying.  Mother went to the corral where he was and said to Hyrum, “Frant is dying.  Can’t we have the elders in?”  He said if you believe in them call them in.  I don’t believe in them so I’ll stay out here.  Mother said the elders gave Frant a blessing.  It was like a miracle.  As soon as they took their hands off her she started to get well.  She had a family of nine children.  She died in childbirth with her ninth child.

            Mother said one time Hyrum had been gone so long they were out of everything, no food for her children.  She was blue and despondent, so she thought, “If I was gone, someone would take care of my children.”  So she made up her mind she would end it all.  She decided she would spend the last day with her sister, Matilda.  She visited all day, got ready to go home.  Uncle Jack told Aunt Till, “Give one of the hams to Dody.”  Mother thought if one person could be so good it was a good place and she would take care of her own children.

            One time Mother left Hyrum.  When he came home she was gone.  Mother was up to her mother’s.  He came up there.  She was sitting with her feet in the oven.  He wanted her to come back and made her all kinds of promises.  He cried, got on his knees to her.  Grandmother said, “Eldora, how can you be so hard-hearted.”  Mother said, “He has made all the promises before and didn’t keep them and he won’t now.”  Then Mother felt so bad she went back for her mother’s sake but it was no different.  He was gone a long time.  He accused her of stepping out on him and that was the parting.

            Maud was married to Uncle Bert around the time when Mother left Hyrum.  When Hyrum left, the boys always thought Mother was to blame.

            My Aunt Vine’s husband, Uncle Tom, had died, leaving her three girls and one boy.  So Mother got her to come live in her house to take care of her own three girls.  Mother got a job cooking at a saw mill.  Mother worked anywhere she could to make a dollar or so.  Finally Aunt Vine married Jim Lewis.  And Mother married my father, George Potts.

            Dad and Jim Lewis had been brother-in-laws.  Both had married Duncan sisters and they both had a son.  Dad had a son, Azim.  Mother had Sarah, Frant.  Grandpa Potts didn’t want dad to marry Mother, as she was a little older than Dad.  Dad went to Grandpa’s and invited them to his wedding.  Grandpa said they weren’t coming.  Dad said, “Please yourselves, we’re going to get married.”  Dolf White, the man who was going to marry them, then came to dad and asked if it would make any difference if they got married one hour sooner.  Dad said no, so they were married an hour before the scheduled time.  They had just got married when here came Grandpa and Grandmother.  He was somewhat peeved and Dad told him it was his own fault.

            Later, Grandmother Potts was making lye soap and was lifting the container off the stove.  She spilled it down her and burned herself very bad.  She was crazy with pain.  She came up the street screaming and crying.  She came to Dad’s.  Mother put vinegar on the burns to keep the lye from burning deeper.  Grandma thought if Mother knew what to do she was all right, so Mother got along with them very well after that.

            Grandpa Potts came up and helped my father build a large rock cellar.  It was so very large and cool and nice, when my mother left Woodland she said she hated to leave her cellar most of all.

            From the time I was born until I was six there were so many things that happened.  I remember the sleigh rides, the trips to the river when Dad was hauling wood.  When he would take us kids with him, we would go visit our relatives in the sleigh.  In the evenings in the sleigh Dad would play his guitar and we would sing.

            Dad raised grain and hauled it down off the hill by the barn to thresh it.  What a day when the threshers came!  The machine was run by horse power.  Six teams of horses went around and around.  Dad had men to pitch the grain into the thresher, men to haul the grain to the granary.

            I and Percy couldn’t go out of the yard.  We stood by the gate and watched.  It seemed like there was no room anywhere in the house or out.  Mother had been working two or three days making pies and cakes.  They had a great big table.  The men ate first.  I thought they never would get up from the table.

            Dad farmed Mother’s place and planted wheat on the bench.  He was irrigating and the ditch rider came by and told him he was under arrest because he was stealing water.  They found out Hyrum Rose had sold the water.  It cost Dad ten dollars, then he had to buy water for the place.

            Dad always hauled lots of wood.  Then his neighbor, Fred Peterson, would come and help him saw his wood up with a two man saw.  They would saw one day for Dad and then one day for Fred.  We had a large woodshed.  We weren’t very big when we would carry wood into the shed, rick it all up into neat piles.  We thought that was fun.  When the ricks go too high for us, Dad and Azim would carry.  Mother always had her wood box full.  I have heard her say with love, “Oh George, you are good.”  He would say to her, “Bless you, my dear.”

            Mother was baptized just before she married Dad.  They then went to the temple.  It must have been in 1897.

            Dad was called on a mission to the Southern States.  Mother was left with six to take care of as I don’t think Sade was married.  Mother had plenty of cut up wood to last her while Dad was gone.  She had a hard time of it, very little help from anyone.  She took in washings and earned twenty dollars.  She wrote Dad a letter and put a twenty dollar gold piece in it.  When the letter caught up with Dad the coin had nearly worn a hole through the envelope.  When Dad got the money he was happy.  His shoes were worn out.  He needed other things.  He wrote Mother a letter and said, “God bless you, my dear, and thanks for the money.  I pray that God will bless and keep my family until I get back.  I’ll try and make up for the sacrifices you have made.”

            How glad and happy we all were when Father returned from his mission!  He had a little bag.  He brought cotton home to show how it was grown.  He brought black-eyed peas and other peas for us to taste.  We all like the beans and peas.

            When Dad got home he went to work in a saw mill.  He moved the family up there.  It was in the winter.  One day Dad came in, said the snow was crusted.  Frant bundled Percy and me up.  We went on the crust.  It seems to me we went a long way.  Percy and I wanted to go farther.  Frant told us we couldn’t go to the pines, there might be bears in there.  Percy was only a little boy.  He wanted to see a bear.

            When we came back from the saw mill, Dad bought Mother a new stove – a quick meal.  How proud they bothr were to get the stove!  Her other one was past repair.

            Around this time Mern was born.  I know it was Christmas season.  Mother had been cooking, getting ready for a large crowd.  She took sick.  Mern just lived a little while.  Mother was so sick.  When Dad left to take the little casket to the cemetery, she raised up on her arm to see who went with him.  Johnny Benson, she said, was a true friend who never let you down.

            When they let us see Mern, we asked so many questions.  Why couldn’t we keep her?  Why did she have to die?

            Frant took me to school when I was four to say a poem.  I got frightened, forgot the piece.  Frant had to tell me every line.  She was disgusted with me.  Frant must have been married around this time.

            My Grandmother Lefler took sick.  Mother had to go take care of her.  She took Percy and I over to Frant’s.  They lived in the old Woodard home.  Can remember we slept in beds made on the floor.  My Grandmother died.  We stayed at Frant’s until everything was settled.

            Leland was born in 1905.  When I came home from school, Mother asked if I would like to go to Maud’s house and stay with Preal, Maud’s daughter.  Ranch and Preal had to go to school.  Maud told me to come down to Grandma Potts’ after I dressed and washed.  I went to Grandma’s.  They had a long dining room.  The table was full.  “Hello, Duckie Bird,” one of my uncles said.  “You can’t guess what you have up home! A new baby brother!”  I said, “I haven’t either?”  They started to tease me.  Grandmother took me into Grandfather’s room.  She sat me in a chair that was so big I couldn’t find myself.  The room had lots of books, beautiful drapes at the windows.  By the big chair was a stand with Grandpa’s pipe and his glasses.  I liked the room.  Was sorry when I had to leave to go home.

            Grandmother was going to take care of Mother.  Some of the girls were going to straighten Grandmother’s house up.  One of my uncles took me and Grandmother to our house.  When we got home, the table was surrounded by people eating breakfast.  Papa said, “You can’t guess what we have here.”  I said I knew, a baby.  Dad took me by the hand in to see the baby and Mother.  Gee, I was so happy to see him; he brought joy and happiness to our home.  Only Percy had to say, “I saw him first.”

            Seems to me that Frant was expecting so was Sade.  We moved to Park City.  We lived in the back of Sade’s house.  The kitchen was very dark.  Sade lived in the two fron rooms.  The bedrooms we had were pretty good.  But uncle Frank always made such a fuss because Sade sold the house.  I thought she did a good thing selling it.  We always had to burn a light.

            Leland was born in October;  Frant’s boy, Morris, was born in December;  Ed, Sade’s boy, was born toward spring.  Jed and Frant moved back to Francis.  Jed wanted to sell his house, so Dad bought it.  Mother and Dad papered the house, made a lot of repairs, painted it, fixed the cellar.  It was so cute when they got it done.  I wanted them to keep it, but they said it didn’t have enough rooms.  They sold it for a lot more they the paid for it.

            Then they bought a house up on top of the hill.  We had to go through Chinatown and climb a lot of stairs.  It was a nice home, had a large kitchen.  It was a large red house.  It was quite comfortable.  We all loved this house.

            Percy and Azim were looking around under the enclose porch.  The found a large roll of bunting and flags, which came in well to decorate the house with on the fourth of July.  Ours was one of the best decorated that 4th.  It seemed like everyone in Park City bought fireworks.  From our place on the hill we could see all of Park City.  We sat on the front porch and watched for two hours or more – a beautiful sight.  Mother had made home-made ice cream.  We ate ice cream while we watched.

            We had a large lot, plenty of room for the boys to play.  Leland was just a little fellow.  He and Mother were home alone.  He crawled under the fence and went up the hills behind our house.  Mother missed him in a few minutes.  She called to him – no answer, but found where he had crawled through the fence.  She went up through the oak brush and called or him.  He finally heard her and started to cry.  Mother went to him.  He was standing by a shaft someone had sunk in the ground.  No telling how deep it was.  We were all so glad to get our little brother home.

            Mother’s story wouldn’t be complete without telling about out little neighbor.  I think his name was John Savage.  His mother ran a boarding house next to us.  She never had time for him, so he spent a good deal of time at our house.  One day Mother was cleaning us kids up.  Johnny came over.  He said, “Going some where? Can I go too?”  “We are going to Mr. George Potts’ house.”  “Oh, wait. I go see if I can go with you?”  He came back all out of breath saying, “I can go!”  Mother said, “If you go to George Potts’ you will have to have your face and hands washed and hair combed.”  He said, “I don’t know how.”  Mother got a pan of water and washed his face, combed his hair and showed him how to wash his hands.  He said, “Now do I look like Percy?”  We all said he did.  Mother said, “This is George Potts’ house.  Now when you come over here, have your face and hands clean.”  He said, “Mrs. Potts, can I come over here and wash?”  Mother said yes.  We all missed poor little John when we left there.  The Savages had a small baby.  Mrs. Savage would put her in her buggy with a bottle, get either Percy or me to push the buggy.  We have walked miles.  She would give us a quarter now and then.  After we left there the little girl died.  The people were Catholic.  They used to have drunken parties, but they always went to mass on Sunday morning to be forgiven of their sins.

            I was baptized while we lived here in a font in the LDS church.  Mother went with me when I was confirmed.  Dad was working.  Mother was not feeling well.  It was daytime.  I wasn’t scared going, but coming home it was dark.  When I got to the post office, I leaned up against the building and thought of what the man had said in my confirmation, “receive the Holy Ghost,” and he said it would be a help and a guide all the days of my life.  So the way I went through Chinatown wasn’t slow.

            Ed Rose’s wife Ruth died about this time in Rock Springs, Wyo.  Maude went to the funeral.  They brought Mother the three children.  Ed went back to his job.  He had to go back and pay his bills.  We had the children quite a while when he came back.  He could see it was too much for Mother.  He took them to Frant.  When he came again he wasn’t satisfied how the children were doing, so he took them to Grandma Potts.  They stayed there until he married again.

            At this time my Dad thought he would try to get a house over on Woodside Ridge.  He had a sale for the red house we all loved so well.  So again he made good money on the deal.  We then lived in a green house.  Maud and Bert’s two oldest children came to school in the winter.

            Ranch got the small pox.  The doctor said to Dad, “It would be a shame for this little girl (meaning me) to get the small pox.  I’ll give you $5.00 for her.”  I thought sure the folks would sell me.  Oh what a time we had!  Ranch thought he knew everything.  Preal and I knew we knew everything.

            Ranch had the small pox first, then Azim.  Azim wouldn’t eat; all he wanted to do was sleep.  Preal and Percy got it next, then Mother.  Dad slept in the barn downtown.  He came up to the door.  He asked Mother if she wanted him to do something.  She said, “I am so sick.  Maybe tomorrow I’ll be better.”  He said, “I am coming in and see if I can do something for you.”  He also came in the next day.  Dad and Leland came down.  Poor little Lee!  Mother put pillows in the big rocking chair.  He was a sight!  He was broken out with those festering sores.  His face was swollen.  He was a sight!  He was the size of two babies.  Then Dad came down for two or three days.  We were all sick.  Dad even broke out on the soles of his feet.  He and Leland broke out the worst.  After Dad broke out he sat in a chair, scratched and dug his feet.  Mother said he would be pock marked, but he kept on.  He didn’t have any scars.

            In the summer Mother and we kids went to Woodland for a visit.  Day stayed on and batched.  Mother visited all her people.  When we came home, I always remember the bed of sweet peas by the side of the house.  They were beautiful.  The more we picked, the more they bloomed.  Can remember Dad was looking for us to come home that day.  He had everything clean.  He bought Leland a hammer and nails.  Lee pounded the nails in the step between the kitchen and dining room.

            When Mother got home, they decided to buy the house next door, a well-built one, and sell the green one.  I remember when the snow got so deep, the coal had to be carried in sacks up the steps.  No one could get very much coal.

            Mother went to the dentist alone and had her teeth pulled out.  He gave her something.  It made her so sick she could hardly get home.  She said she wished she had taken Percy or me with her to help her home.  She was sick almost two weeks.  Not one of her people came to see if they could help her.  I remember Day saying, “Yes, when you are able they all can some to be fed, but they can’t some help you.”  But he still went on feeding them.

            We had a big red cow we kept in the barn nights.  She foraged around in the neighbors’ garbage.  They would leave things she could eat out for her.  She did well.

            Dad always went on the hill to get us Christmas trees.  We really had beautiful trees.

            My dad worked at the Silver King mill.  He had a good job running the compressors.  One day he got caught between two small ore cars.  It mashed his hips and hurt his kidneys.  He always had trouble with them after that.  They took him to the hospital at the lower end of town.  They sent word to my mother.  She left word with a neighbor that she had gone to the hospital, for us to stay home and get something to eat as she didn’t know when she would be home.  Percy and I got home first.  When Azim got home he cried, “Dad is going to die.  I want to die too.”  Can’t remember how many times us kids went to the hospital.  But at Christmas we had no tree.  We were afraid we wouldn’t get any Christmas.  I decided I wouldn’t get up early as we weren’t expecting anything.

            But Percy couldn’t stay in bed.  He went in and yelled, “He came!  Oh, he came!  Irene, he brought you a doll.”  Don’t know about the rest, I can only think of my doll.

            We had our breakfast, got ready to go to the hospital.  We ate dinner at Aunt Till’s.  As we were going down the sidewalk, and old man said, “Little girl, you got a doll for Christmas.  She is beautiful.”  I said, “I am taking my doll for my papa to see.  He is in the hospital.”  Dad was happy because we all were so happy.  He told us he thought he was getting better.

            He did get better and they decided he wouldn’t go back to the mill.  About the last of January he moved us all back to Woodland, sold the yellow house.

            We had a team, Chess and Crimp, and a wagon.  Dad also had some cows.  The Dad went out to the Uintah Basin to help plant a crop for Ted Howells.  He stayed until June, when he came for us.  They had ordered a harness and it came in two big boxes and they were put in the kitchen.

            Mother washed one day.  She didn’t empty her wash water, but moved it on the back porch.  She decided to make some pies, so she put some chips in the stove to hurry up the fire, but didn’t put the damper up.  She looked out the window and saw sparks flying.  She said to Percy, “Go get help.  Our house is on fire!”  Then Mother climbed on a chair, threw water around the pipe.  Then she moved the boxes of harness outside.  She climbed on a chair, then on a box.  I handed her pans of water, which she threw on the roof.  Soon there were men there to put out the fire.  They wondered how Mother could have moved the harnesses, as they seemed to be much too heavy for her.

            We lived in this house until June when Father came home and he put the harnesses together and hitched up the team.  We thought we had the finest team in the world.  Then came the day we loaded the wagon to go out to the Uintah Basin.  Mother had made lots of cookies, made up butter and baked bread.  We munched on the cookies.  We bade farewell to Woodland.  It must have been hard for them to pull out, not knowing where they would live.

            The first day we went to where the snow started on the way to Wolf Creek summit.  Dad left Mother, Leland and I in a tent that had been put up.  He took Percy and Azim with him.  I made the beds for the night in the tent and then we had a camp fire.  In a little trunk I had were my crayons.  So I tried to paint the scenery.  It was beautiful in the pine trees.  Of course Mother thought I might be a painter some day.

            The men came back about dark and ate the supper Mother had prepared for them.  Dad said we had a long day ahead, and we’d better go to bed.  Dad said the prayer for all of us.  I remember he asked the Lord’s help on the journey and in finding us a new home.  We all seemed so happy as we crowded in bed.

            Dad got up early and built a fire.  We got up shivering.  Mother made breakfast.  Fred Peterson came up with his team and wagon to help us over the hill.  He was always there when Dad needed him most.  He ate breakfast with us and then we loaded his wagon and went up to where our wagon was.  The streams were running to overflowing going down Wolf Creek.  The road was very narrow and I was afraid we would tip over and roll to the bottom of the hill.  But I liked the scenery.

            It was a long drive going over the mountains.  When we got to Rob Mitchie’s (Dad’s cousin) on the other side, his wife said, “Oh, some in and have supper.”  Mother said, “I have plenty of bread and some cookies.”  Mrs. Mitchie said, “All right, we have plenty of milk and some of the best radishes you ever ate.”  So we had bread and milk and radishes.

            The Mitchie’s had a large family of girls with one boy.  I slept with all those girls in the granary.  We had so much fun.

            In the morning we went on our way and got to a Mr. Han’s house, almost to the first bridge that spans the Duchesne River.  Mr. Hans said there was so much water running on the south side of the bridge we had better wait till morning to cross.  We stayed there all night.  Mr. Hans had the first meal he hadn’t fixed himself in a long time.

            Dolph White, another relative of Dad’s, came next morning on a big horse to help us cross the river.  Mr. Hans rode on one side of our team and Mr. White on the other.  We crossed the bridge, but there looked to be as much water running on the other side as was running under the bridge.  We were all frightened, but at last we got through.  We went on to the bridge, crossed over and went up on top of Blue Bench.  Mother liked the looks of Blue Bench and said she wouldn’t mind living there.

            When we got to the other side of Blue Bench, the dug way wasn’t much of a road at that time.  We went straight off.  I think Dad took a short cut as he wanted to get to the Lake Fork river.  When we got there, there was too much water, so we just cut through the flat and went to the bridge.

            We at last came to Ted Howell’s place.  We moved in his granary.  They had lived in it until they got a two-roomed house built.  We made our beds over the grain bins.  We had a small stove and table.

            They had a large garden.  I think they got the water out of a class C Indian canal.  Seems like they raised corn and oats.  We had to work here and it seems like we kids put in a rather uncomfortable summer.

            On the Fourth of July, the settlers had a celebration.  The men built a bowery of small green trees.  They had a barrel of good lemonade, as the weather was hot.  They had a program - - kid’s races and a ball game (just chose up sides from the crowd).  Day played ball.  Ren Pitt asked Dad if he had got settled yet.  Dad told him no.

            They asked us all up next day and they were figuring where we could locate.  Mother, Dad, Kate and Ren went walking through the sagebrush.  The next day Dad went to Vernal and filed on our place.

            Then every day Dad could get off he went up in the cedars and chopped posts.  He went to the saw mill and got lumber for the new house.  For some time he let us know that one of these days he would take us up to our new place.  The day came.  Mother packed a lunch.  We took water and milk to drink.  The milk stayed cool until noon.

            Dad grubbed sagebrush and we piled and burned it.  Mother and Dad said the harder we worked the more land we could clear.  It was all right at first.  Then we got tired and lazy.  We thought noon would never come.  Where we cleared that day was where we had the first alfalfa patch, where Parley Mitchell’s house now stands.  At last we ate our lunch.  How good everything tasted!  There was some lumber lying there.  Dad said it was our new house.

            Upalco as I first remember it was a cabin on Mel Pitts’ place, another cabin in the distance.  This latter was the first school.  There were no fences.  You could go anywhere and make your own road.  Mathews had a two-room house.  Their place was shadscale and rabbit brush.  They had a log barn I think they lived in first, then built their house later.  They had a family of eight children.  Their oldest daughter got married about this time.  Their son Glendon was the first baby born here.

            Keyes place was partly shadscale and sagebrush on the rest.  They had a good sawed log house.  Alegra was the first baby born here.

            Marshalls had just built a house with two rooms down and two rooms up.  The granary, sheds and chicken coops.  They lived at first in the coops until the house was built.  They had a son Lloyd who died, and another son Orvil.

            Kate and Ren (Pitt) were living on the Murphy place in Dave Richardson’s cabin.  This place was all sagebrush.  Ren owned the place across the street.  They lived in the Davis house the first winter we were here; then they moved their cabin from up on the brink of the hill and put it where the Upalco War building was later built.  The George Potts place was nothing but sagebrush - - one hundred and sixty acres of it.  John Horton, Oscar Nelson and Nat Mitchell built houses on their homesteads, then went out to work.

            My dad worked hard the first summer clearing the land.  Then he went back to Woodland and got our cows.  He and Mother made one trip to sell her place and I went once with him when he got doors, windows and shingles for the house.  He had built the house double floor.  Ren Pitt came and helped him with the framework.  Then he put on the roof and tarpaper and boards on the outside.  When winter came we were warm, except it was cold when the wind blew.  He got the house up so he could put things inside, but he had to work on the farm some days.  He built a granary with a flat roof to hold his corn and oats.  He built corrals for the cows.  We never had a pony so the boys drove the cows and walked a good deal.  When Dad got the cows here, he turned them out in the flat to graze, then we kids went after them each evening.  I didn’t like to go after the cows because I was afraid of snakes, lizards and horney toads.

            Dad moved us up home before they started to gather the crops.  Dad brought a load of corn every night he went to Ted’s.  Mother would get her work done, the she would take us kids to the stack yard, where she taught us to shuck corn.  We sat on the pile of corn, pulled the husks off and sorted the big ears from the little ones.  Then we would carry the corn to the granary to put in the bins.  It was so nice living in our own home.

            When Mother taught us to husk corn, she told us stories of her childhood and really kept us interested.  She said about being in Salt Lake City when there was an earthquake.  It rattled the dishes in the cupboards.  She would tell us about how big the corn was in Iowa, where when lived when she was a girl.         

            In the winter, Mother, Dad and Leland went to Ted Howells’ to get some oats.  The wagon had planks over the running gears, with the bagged grain on the planks.  They came down the hill by the Keys.  The planks slipped, throwing Leland to the ground with the grain on top of him.  They were so scared.  Dad moved the grain.  Lee was mashed flat.  Dad said he was protected as he never took any hurt from it.  Dad said Lee was destined to do good things.

            After they got the crops gathered at Ted Howells’, Dad had to haul his part of the crops up home.  We were blessed.  There were lots of poor people around.  Mother and Dad helped where they could.

            We went to Palmer schoolhouse for church the first winter.  There was not much social life.  My folks let me stay with my Aunt Frant (Woodard) and go to the Palmer school for awhile.  Mother didn’t want me walking through the flat when it got too cold.  They wanted me at home.  I went home just before Christmas.

            The Mechams moved in.  Mr. Mecham came one day to ask Mother is she would come help his wife, as she was in labor.  They also got Mrs. Mathews, who was a fine, sweet, very jolly woman.  When Mother came the next morning, the Mechams had a healthy baby girl.  The Mechams had come in with three big wagons and three teams.  They put up in a little cabin that had been abandoned by some people who went back east, saying it was too hard a life.

            In the spring Mother put me on a horse and sent me up to Mrs. Morgan’s to school.  Mother paid in butter.  The butter was wasted.  I didn’t learn anything except to read, “Into the valley of death rode the six hundred.”

            The next winter Dave Richardson came back to Lake Fork.  There was enough snow for sleighing.  Dave hitched his team on his sleigh and picked up the Pitts, Potts and Westcox, then the Mathews.  They were going up to Marshalls.  As they went around a corner he went around too fast, tipped the sleigh over and dumped them all in the snow.  What a screeching and hollering!  After much fuss and laughter they went on to Marshalls.  Then after that they took turns going from home to home.  Can well remember when they came to our home.  Mr. and Mrs. Westcox were quite jolly.

            In the fall the men moved an old house up from down in the fields and fixed it up for a schoolhouse.  It had one medium-sized room and a lean-to.  They took planks, made benches for us to write on and planks for seats.  Will Neil was hired as teacher, and he taught us until spring.  The kids who went to this school Hazel, Lucinda, Clara Marshall; Clem, Claude Meda; Jody Richarson; Malcolm Sands and his sister Grace (who lived on the river and walked to school).  Our next teacher was Miss Naomi Mitchell.  When she taught we had brand new desks and seats.  I have many fond memories of this school.  When spring came the large boys had to go to farming.

            In the old history of Duchesne County there was a picture of this old house that served as the first school on the Lake Fork.

During the summer, we kids had to work on the weekdays but we tried to get together on Sunday.  We went to church at the Mural Ward in Ioka.

This summer the men got out logs and built the schoolhouse and social hall.  The schoolhouse was ready in the fall.  Mr. Olsen and Miss Liberts were the teachers.  There were big cracks in the floor.

            There was many a fine social gathering in this building.  Can remember the free dinners we had, especially on Thanksgiving.  I wonder how the mothers fixed such dinners.

By this time more farmers had started to fence their farms.  What a time my dad and brothers had digging all those rocky post holes.  They dug them all except the ones on the south of the north 80.  Dad hired Bill Mitchell to dig those.  Dad paid him with my mandolin but finally Dad had his land fenced.

The men and boys had to haul every drop of water we used in a barrel on a go-devil.  It seemed the barrel was always dry.  Sometimes the water was so riley we had to wait until it cleared up before we could use it.  The Class C tried to build a canal on the sidehill just west of my father’s homestead.  There was a large camp of men working.  We called it tent city.  They started the cut first, which cost $50,000, then they started the canal.  They finally had the canal built along the hill.  They turned that water in and out slid a large piece of canal.  They decided to build a flume, finished it, then turned the water in.  Out went another section of side hill.  Then an accident to the Fred Pack baby made the men think the whole project was jinxed.  The baby was killed by a falling rock in its mothers’ arms as the parents were walking along the canal under the ledges.  The canal was abandoned.  I think this canal cost around $90,000, which, of course, was disastrous for poor people trying to get water on their homesteads.  And still no water and no prospects of getting any except what you could haul.  Everyone was blue and discouraged.

Mother, Dad and Leland went to get a load of poles.  They went up where the Class C is now.  Dad cut his load of poles and they had lunch.  Dad went up on the hill.  He looked down the hill and thought he could see a large canal flowing down the side hill.  When he thought about it he thought that was a natural place for a head gate from the river and a natural place for a canal.  He went to camp and told Mother.  She said, “George, you have had an inspiration or a vision.”  They hooked up and came home.  When Mother saw us she said, “I wish you could have seen your father today.  I believe we are going to have water.”

            Dad went to see Ren Pitt.  They went to see Rob Marshall and Jeff Mathews.  They decided to go look the sight over.  I don’t know how many or who went up.  They all figured it was worth a try.  They formed the Lake Fork Irrigation Company.  They filed on 1,000 feet of early filings.  They thought this was plenty and this was the best water right on the river.  Later they found out they needed more water so the filed on 1,500 more, but that was only a high water right.  The Lake Forkers formed a company.  Rob Marshall was president, Jeff Mathews was vice president, Oscar Nelson was secretary and treasurer.  Dad was on the board.

It wasn’t long until the Lake Fork men had their teams, wagons loaded with their scrapers, with hay, grain for their horses, lunch boxes for themselves, with food enough to last a week.  I think nearly all the men in the place went on the ditch to work.  They came home on Saturday and got ready late Sunday to go back to work.  They were afraid the hillside might slide but it was different material to work with.  As last they had the ditch built around the side hill.

It didn’t seem like it took as long coming down the country after they finished the hillside.  Finally the day came when they had the water down on our place.  We had a little plowed furrow full of water.  We would ask dad if that was all the water we’d get.  He said, “No.  When they get the ditch soaked up we will have more.”  We were grateful for what we had.  I think it was in June 1911 we had ditch day.  People came from all over.  We had a program in the morning, all kinds of races and a jolly good time.  They had Krebbs Brass Band.  They played during the day and for the dance at night.  On the program we had local talent and it was good.  Mel Pitt and his wife Leota sang.  Then our mothers, Mrs. Mitchell, Mrs. Potts, Mrs. Pitt, Laura Marshall, Mrs. Mathews sang and danced a little jig to the tune of Casey Jones.  Here is what I can remember of the song”

 

“Come all you rounders who want to hear

The story of a brave engineer.

Johnny Angus was the hero’s name;

On the dry gulch grader he got his fame.

 

Johnny called Mel at half past four.

Mel kissed his wife at the old shanty door.

He mounted to the grader with his orders in his hand,

‘We’re going to have water through the rocks and sand.’

 

Oh, Lake Forkers, we’re going to have water.

We’re going to have water through the rocks and sand.

 

The song was good.  Everyone applauded and applauded.  At night they had a large crowd to the dance.  The ladies made ice cream and sold it in the afternoon and night to make money to improve the school house.  During the evening someone came and told Dad, Mother was sick.  He went out and picked her up in his arms and took her home, put hot water bottles around her and put blankets on her.  She got better.

            A short time after the Class C company filed an enlargement of Lake Fork canal and made it bigger.  The water is still coming through the canal.  There have been a lot of changes.

            One of Dad’s recreations was that he like to fish.  He sure could catch them.  He always shared them with his neighbors.  He worked hard but always had time to go with his family.

Dad and Mother loved to take the family berry picking.  When the black currants were ripe, we got in the wagon, took our lunch and went on the river up by Mrs. Orr’s.  We would all get our pails and go looking for the currants.  Soon we put them all together and had buckets full.  When we weren’t picking, we kids played ball or rested in the shade.  We cleaned and bottled the berries and Mother made pies of them in the winter.

There was a berry called the buffalo berry.  We beat them off the bushes with sticks.  When you got the juice out of the red berries, it was white.  When the jelly was done it was a beautiful red.

Dad raised some sugar cane.  It grows like corn.  He had a little press run by one horse.  The horse went around and around.  Someone fed the cane in the mill.  They caught the juice in a container.  Mother boiled it on the stove to make molasses.

I don’t know the exact year they put the bridge across the Duchesne River at Myton.  Mother made me a new dress.  It had buttons down the back all the way.  Gee I was wishing it would rain.  Dad was working on the thresher in Arcadia.  Mother said if it rained he would come home.  It rained and we got to go to Myton for the celebration.  It was real good.  We got to see a lot of our new-found friends from all over the country.

There was later a celebration at Roosevelt.  They built a “hay place,” they called it, made of baled hay.  Our family all went but me.  I stayed to do the chores.  It took a day and into the night to go in a wagon to Roosevelt.  So the folks stayed all night.  I think it was something like a fair.  Can only remember Mother saying it was cool in the palace out of the hot sun.

Dad built us a nice granary and a meat house, where we kept our separator.  The water ran through this building.  It was cool in summer and worm in the winter.  He had built up his corrals.

In 1913, Dad and Mother went to Woodland and bought a new buggy.  It was early in the year.  They took the boys and I stayed and did the chores.  Percy can remember what a bad time they had coming over Wolf Creek.  Dad left Mother and Lee in a camp where the snow started.  Fred Peterson came and helped Dad.  Percy says they worked and worked to get their wagon and buggy over.  At last they succeeded.  Then they came back to camp.  Mother had built a bonfire and had a good meal ready for them.

We were so proud of the buggy.  It had a top with fringe.  I don’t know why they didn’t like the top, but they took it off and hung it in the shed.  Dad and Mother brought the rest of their things out.  Our house was comfortable now.  Dad built a lean-to kitchen and built a cupboard with a big wide board.  He put this across the south side.  It was so handy to mix bread and make pies or cakes.  Mother liked it very much.

That spring, Mother’s old hens all seemed to want to brood at once.  She sat all that wanted to.  We had one old hen that layed on top of the buggy top.  Mother said to leave the eggs and let her set.

I was in the seventh grade.  Then one day the boys and Dad were away from home.  Mother hadn’t been feeling too well.  After lunch we took a nap.  I woke up first and heard a noise at the barnyard.  I hurried out and there were little chickens all over the corral.  I tried to catch one old hen but I couldn’t.  I went to the house and told Mother.  We went to the yard but couldn’t catch the hens.  Mother said, “Let them go in the corral and I don’t feel like bothering them.”  It was always a mystery how the old hen got her chickens down off the buggy top under the shed.

I passed from the seventh grade this spring.  Some of us girls sluffed school to go to Indian Jim’s funeral.  The Indians wanted him buried like a white man.  They had the hole dug, then they sat him in the hole.  They put his belongings in the hole, put his saddle and blankets and everything.  They said they killed his horse and put it in too.  His mother came with a little sack of bread.  She was chanting sort of a song;  Oh my Jimmy, oh my Jimmy.”  Then she put the sack of bread in.  Then some women sang two songs.  Then they had a man pray.  We left them but they put little poles close together and bark covering over the poles.  Then dirt over that.  There were some more Indian Graves there, quite a few.

 

 

(Top of pg 24- Something missing)

 

 

old.  We went and camped.  I and four other girls palled around.  We weren’t old enough to go to the dance but we went in.  We eavesdropped on one of the girls’ sisters.  We thought we had a glorious time.  We saw the Indian bear dance.

            This one summer Dad cleared more ground, put in some more alfalfa.  We were all busy.  Mother this spring and summer replenished her sheets and pillow cases.  She made five new quilts.  Some were tops she made before she had quiltings.  The summer Robert Marshall bought a house in Roosevelt so his family could move in to have better schools.

            When fall came our school teacher needed a place to stay – Miss Josephine Thompson from Colorado.  She took Miss Virdie Timothy’s place.  So Dad and Mother talked it over and thought they could take her.  We had all got settled down in school and thought everything was going to work out fine.

            Then Mother got sick and Dad decided to take her to Kamas to see what was the matter.  The doctor said she had diabetes.  He took Leland and Mother to her sister’s to stay.  They thought bed rest would help her.  They gave her bran bread.  Dad stayed a little while then came home.  He was missing Mother very much, and she was homesick and blue where she was.  I quit school as it took me all me time to do the work.  I couldn’t cook and the teacher couldn’t do as well as I could.  She had to do her own washing.  We had some laugh meals.  Can remember Dad killing a chicken.  He dressed it real nice and I cooked it until the meat came off the bones.

            Dad went to see Mother once before the snow came.  She wanted to come home just before Christmas.  She wrote us a letter.  She said among other things, “Irene, you will need a new dress for Christmas.  Have your papa give you some money and get some cloth.  Have Mrs. Mathews make it for you.”  So Meda and I went to Myton horseback and got our cloth.  On our way back up, her horse threw a shoe.  We saw a boy going over the hill.  He had an ox.  We called, “Hi little boy.”  He came back and we were surprised to find a young man.

            I can’t remember what Christmas was like, only Dad let me go to Mel Pitt’s for dinner.  When February came Mother wrote and told Dad she wanted to come home.  She didn’t think she was much better.  Maybe she would feel better when she got home.  Dad went after her.  He went out all right, but when he came back, Leland tells how they went to a saw mill and got a cabin.  They were comfortable but oh, how it snowed.  The roads were impassable.  Dad was wondering what to do and here came Fred Peterson and another fellow to the mill to get some logs they had cut.  Dad said, “Oh Fred, you are an answer to my prayers.”

            They started out.  They went along Wolf Creek on the south side under the pine trees or in the edge of the pine trees.  There was very little water in the creek.  They had a terrible time.  Dad was completely exhausted when they got home.  How glad we all were to see Mother.

            The teacher stopped teaching school after Christmas a while.  I know she was gone in February when Mother got home.  The night Dad and Mother got here they had an opening dance at the power plant on the river.  Bill Mitchell came home with them that night; don’t know where they picked him up at.  I know he asked me to go to the dance.  I already had a date.

            They were ready to put in the dynamo or the equipment.  We had to dance around the things on the floor.  It was fun.  Mr. Frezill was the electrician.  His wife hazel got a post office down there.  She named it Upalco after the first letters in Uintah Power and Light Company.  Mrs. Key carried the mail from Ioke in a little buggy.

            On the seventh day of March they had put Nat Mitchell in a presiding elder.  He and other decided to build a new rock school and church building.  Mr. Mitchell was a mason.  So they hauled a lot of rock.  On the 17th of March they were going to lay the corner stone.  They were having supper at the old schoolhouse that night.  It was the last supper held there as far as I know.  We all went to see the cornerstone layed - -all but Mother.  She stayed home.  We expected to see so much.  They had a paper telling about the people here and telling about this building that was being built.  The building would stand a hundred years.  They put the corner stone in, put the paper in a hole in the rock, put a little cement over it and that was it.

            When we got home, Mother had made lemon pies to take to the supper that night.  She didn’t have lemons but used vinegar and lemon flavor.  They were delicious.  All day we kids had been asking, “What are we going to take to the supper.”  She said, “Wait and see.”  We were afraid she didn’t feel well enough to fix anything.  Gee, all those pies looked so good.

            That summer they built the rock hall up to the bottom of the windows.  We left Lake Fork that winter but I asked my Dad what they did.  He said they got in a hurry and built it up to the square.  Then they tore the old schoolhouse down and used the lumber on the rock hall.  It leaked like a sieve.  We had a lot of fond memories of the old schoolhouse.

            Mother wrote to Sade and told her she was sick.  Sade put her furniture in storage and came to take care of her.  When Sade got to Kamas, she wrote and told the folks.  Dad made another trip after her in March.

            The snow had begun to get rotten.  The horses would fall in the snow.  Ed Potts said Uncle George was a wonderful man.  He would fix anything with bailing wire or anything that came handy.  He got one horse down, couldn’t get him up.  He tried whipping to get him up.  Sade came up and said if you hit that horse one more time I’ll have you arrested.  Dad told her he had to do what he had to do.  He didn’t want to be responsible for three kids and her to freeze to death.  Ed said that Dad unhooked the horses and hooked on the other horse and got him out of the snow and water.  Then he hooked on the other horse and got him out of the snow and water.  Then he hooked the team on the tongue of the wagon and hauled the load out.  It was another killing trip.

            When Sade came, Dad, Mother and Sade planted a garden.  We had peas nearly in bloom on the 10th of May.  Oh, life was good.  Dad and Mother could have lived now without so much work.

            One beautiful day in May with the sun shining and birds singing, we all got up and started the day.  Dad and the boys went to do their chores.  Sade said to Mother, “Now you get ready for Mrs. Mathews when she comes.  Irene and I will do the work.”  Mother and Mrs. Mathews were Mrs. Yorna Mitchell’s first and second counselors in Relief Society.  Dad had the Relief Society wheat in his granary.  The ladies were going to lend the wheat out to the farmers.  The farmers had to pay back what they borrowed and some interest in the fall.  Mrs. Mathews came with her team and wagon.  Mother went into her bedroom, got her jacket off the wall, slipped it on as she came in the front room.  She put the jacket on and cried out, “Something stung me!”  She grabbed her arm tight.  Sade said, “We better put something on it.”  Mother said, “I’ll wait until I get back, I don’t want to keep the women waiting.”

            She got home about noon.  Sade and I had dinner ready.  Mother said, “That darn thing hurts yet.”  Sade took Mother’s jacket off.  There was a large red spot on her arm above the elbow.  There were three marks on the red spot.  They put some linament on it and a bandage and doctored it all afternoon.  It swelled as large as a turkey egg.  After it swelled it didn’t seem to hurt Mother so much.  They thought it was going to break open.

            I had a bed on the floor at the foot of Dad and Mother’s bed.  I had been dreaming.  I heard Dad and Mother talking.  I heard Mother say, “George, I am going to die.  Hold me in your arms.”  Dad said, “No, Dode, you can’t leave me now.”  Sade heard them and came in.  Mother said, “Let me tell you how I want to be buried.  Don’t go to a lot of expense.  I would like a silk petticoat and a soft whit material for my dress.”  She then asked Sade to get some poultices for the arm.  Dad and Mother said their good-byes then.

            We then got up as it was close to morning.  Mother was so sick.  Dad asked me if I would go ask Dave Richardson if he would come over.  He came and they administered to her.  The lump on her arm started to come back up.  Later in the morning Dad told me, “Irene, I know you mother won’t get better.  The lump on her arm came back, but it is black.”

            There didn’t seem anything I could do so I went to religion class.  When I came home Dad and I went out on the north side of the house.  Dad said, “I can’t see her suffer so.”  I told Dad a Dr. Paget was down operating on Mr. Knight.  He had appendicitis.  Dad said to sent for him.  Someone went down on horseback.  They weren’t long coming.  The doctor lanced the lump on Mother’s arm.  He had a small bowl he filled with a black fluid.  He told us she wouldn’t live four hours.  He said, “If you want to tell her goodbye, now is the time.  She may go unconscious.”

            She lived three days but didn’t seem to know what was going on.  Sade sent Bob Marshall to Tabby horseback to phone Woodland to tell the folks there.  He brought word back Uncle Jim (Lewis) and Uncle John (Lefler) would be out.  On Saturday, May 10, Mrs. Key came over to be with Mother.  I came into her bedroom and sat down by her bed.  “Mother,” I said, “Uncle Jim and Uncle John will be out.”  She opened her eyes, looked at me and said in a weak little voice, “I would like to see them.”

            At one time Dad held her hands and said, “Few hands have done the work these hands have done and few have fed so many people.”  Along toward sundown our sweet little mother left us.  I was out on the north side of the house.  Mrs. Mathews came over when she heard the news and she came and talked to me.  I must have been in such a daze I didn’t even hear what she said.  I know when I came to myself the stars were out and they seemed so close to the earth.  There didn’t seem any place for me to go.

            Dad put long planks in the back of the house in the shade for the funeral service.  Can’t remember much about that, but I remember Percy would hardly come in the house where Mother was.  I got him by the arm and asked him to come with me to see Mother in her casket.  He came with me, looked at her and just ran out of the house.

            We had to take Mother to Woodland for burial and it was a bad time of the year to go.  They put Mother in the buggy, the rest of us in the wagon.  Some of the people came to see us through the river at the power plant.  The sun was just going down when we crossed the river.  We traveled until we reached the first steel bridge across the Duchesne River and it was then early in the morning so we pulled up and got our breadfast over a bonfire there.  After the teams had had some rest we went on until we reached the snow.  There was a cabin there.  The snow was very soft, so we stayed in the cabin until four o’clock in the morning to see if it wouldn’t be easier to get over.  They left the wagon at the cabin and took the two teams and the two saddle horses of Uncle Jim’s and John’s.  Percy rode one saddle horse and led the other for a ways. Azim took our team.  Dad, Uncle Jim and John went with the buggy and its load.

            One horse would fall in the snow and after much maneuvering to get him up, then the other horse would go down.  At places the buggy would slide sideways and the three men would ride the upper side.  Sade, Ed, Modenia and I walked.  I carried Olaf up the hill.  Sade was quite heavy, so it was all she could do to wade through the snow.

            When we finally got to the top of the hill, the going was somewhat easier on the other side.  We were all about completely exhausted.  When we got to the edge of the snow there were wagons to take us to Woodland.

            When we got to Woodland, Mother’s father was still alive, so we took her to his house.  We cleaned up there before going to the funeral service.

            Can’t remember very much about the service, but there was a crowd.  We went to the Woodland Cemetery and there laid away Mother in the cemetery where her own mother was buried.  Mother used to sing, “Bury me not on the lone prairie, where the coyotes might howl over me.”

            We stayed a few days, then came home, with another trying time crossing the snow.  We got home to a lonesome house and had to pick up the loose ends and carry on.  We all had a rough time to get along without her.

            So I have tried to write my Mother’s story as best I can.  I am now 68 years old and am having a battle with the diabetes that Mother had and which hits various members of our family.  I have had my foot amputated, and have been living over our lives to give my mind something to do.  I may find time to put down something of my own family’s happenings.  Irene Iorg, March 23, 1967.