John Ferney and Laura Rawlinson Morrey Family
Colaborador: glentz Created: 1 year ago Updated: 1 year ago
Revo Morrey Young, December 1995
We the family of John Ferney Morrey and Laura Rawlinson Morrey were born of goodly parents and have need for their examples, teachings and counsels.
Both our father and mother had mixtures of lineage, their fathers being English and the mothers having early American stock. We do not know of having any Mayflower ancestors, but many came shortly thereafter. Some fought in the early Indian wars, Thomas Arms, and possibly others were in the Revolutionary War. Father was a native Utah pioneer; born 27 February 1869 in Kanosh, and Mother was a near pioneer, born 15 January 1880 in Holden, Utah. Their union was January 4, 1900 in Kanosh, Utah.
Our family home life centered around our parents' occupation of farming and raising beef cattle. Both Father and Mother came up earning their own living and they continued to do so. The children were taught to work, and more importantly, how to work.
By 1900 Father had accumulated some cattle and he purchased a farm 2 miles northeast of Joseph, Utah, across the Sevier River, under the Monroe hill. As a newly married couple they moved there in the summer of 1900.
On the farm five of the nine children were born: John Eldon 09 December 1900; Thomas Roscoe 11 August 1902 and died 10 September 1902; Alice Lemira 21 August 1903; Macel 19 September 1905; and Revo 02 September 1907.
When Eldon needed to be in school the family moved to town in rented housing. In 1908 or 1909 an unimproved half block was bought and a log house moved from the Dorrity ranch at Three Creek. It became the nucleus for a frame house built in 1910 in time for Mary Vetris to be born 05 August. Grant Harvey, 07 September 1912, Rachel Larue 11 February 1915 and Harold Rawlinson 22 November 1917 were also born there.
After the move to town it was necessary to travel to the farm to work, both summer and winter. In the winter there were cattle to be fed, fences to repair, ditches to be maintained.
It couldn't have been much of the 40-acre farm allotted to each crop, for home, garden, orchard, corrals and ditches used a good share of it. There had to be hay for the cows, oats for the horses, barley for pigs and chickens, wheat for family flour. Corn was not grown for animals. Macel at birth weighed the same as a large sugar beet, 6 lbs. 11 oz.
Farming is an ongoing process, one job crowding against another. In early spring manure was cleaned from the corrals, by hand pitching, and spread on the farm for fertilizer. Plowing, in early times by a man following a hand operated one-blade plow. (How great it was to purchase a two-way plow! then a riding plow!) The ground was leveled by continuous harrowing. In early times the seed was scattered by hand, but machines were developed to drop seed evenly. Grain must be planted early to benefit from the accumulated moisture. Alfalfa was an important crop to be laid off into furrows before water could run on it. Beets were tender so couldn't begin to grow until danger of frost was past. They would be ready to thin in June.
We children began work in the field after school was out in the spring. Grown or adolescent ones "blocked" the rows with long hoes. That left clumps of beets to be thinned by us little monsters crawling up the long rows on hands and knees. I say Monsters for we were fitted with long-sleeved clothes and wore wide brimmed hats to protect us from sun, knee pads to protect our knees from clods, and canvas gloves to protect our fingers from the juice of the beets (but they didn't.)
Once thinned, laid off and watered, weeds took over and two or three weedings were necessary during the summer. By October the field was given a final watering. In November the sugar was set and it was time to harvest.
Again we moved into the field. A man with a two-pronged plow lifted the large beets. With a strong knife with a hook at the front we grabbed a beet, laid it across the knee and whacked off the top, letting it fall to the ground where it would be eaten by cattle later. The beets were thrown into piles. Then a wagon with a high shallow rack moved into the row between the piles. Then all hands helped the driver who had a scoop fork throw the beets onto the wagon. He took the load to the station to he dumped into a railroad car, after the weight and sugar content had been taken. In icy weather men hauled smelly bulp by wagon from the sugar factory to feed livestock.
In early summer, as soon as the beets were thinned, hay harvest began. It was slow, tedious work with what we now would call antiquated machinery, all horse drawn. The mowing machine had a 6-8 foot blade which let the hay fall behind it. After drying sufficiently a dump rake winnowed and piled it. (A winnower machine was invented and it was appreciated.) Flat-bedded hay racks then moved into the field with a set of hay pitchers and a child to "tromp" on the wagon. When loaded the child drove the wagon to the haystack then drove the team while the loose hay was lifted by a derrick to a man known as a stacker who placed it where it would pack down.
We children had some narrow and harrowing experiences in the hay field. I drove a load of hay across a ditch. The load shifted and tumbled off the wagon. I saw the pitchers run toward me to dig me out before I smothered. But I just ran across the top of the hay. Vetris was also blessed. I suppose it was on an empty wagon, for it seems she was trotting the horses and didn't see the train approaching until it was right before her. The horses' noses were practically touching it as they reared up. The hay hands were shouting but Vetris didn't hear them. They saw the engineer sitting reading a book unaware of the situation, as though he could have stopped the train!
Each summer some of the family took the machinery on the wagon and headed for Three Creek to put up the timothy hay for the cattle as they were taken to the winter range on the desert of Millard County There a cradle-like hayrack was used for the grass hay. Some dramatic memories of experiences were of the time the lightning struck the stovepipe in the cabin, the night Donald Craven wandered away because his mind snapped; rattlesnakes. A live critter with shoulders eaten by a cougar.
We girls didn't often help with the grain for it was too heavy, it was men's work. I did help to shock grain--stand bundles up to dry. The first I remember of watching the harvest was seeing a man follow the binder to gather the grain off a rack and twist straw around it to form a bundle. I also remember of watching a threshing machine run by horsepower, they walking on a treadmill.
When the shocks of grain were dry in the field they were hauled to the yard and stored in round stacks, the heads of grain pointing into the center of the stacks to protect it from birds and animals. The stacks were close together to make it handy for the thresher which moved from stack yard to stack yard--an exciting sight.
The threshing machine was a long, heavy cumbersome machine. It had a slotted track to carry the bundles into the beater, storage for the grain, and another track to carry straw out the other end. It was powered by heavy belts leading from the source of power. It took several men to do the dirty, heavy work, one to tend the tractor and machine, two to pitch bundles onto the carrier, two to move the straw, one to tend the grain, several to carry the loaded sacks of grain to the granary to dump the grain into the bin. The blowing chaff nearly choked those near the machine.
The first tractors I remember were also heavy monsters with iron wheels as tall as the body. Eldon, who was the mechanic and boss, had to rise early to get the tractor started and ready to operate. On cold mornings it was difficult. Once he got caught by a spinning crank which caught his clothes. He braced himself but his clothes gave way at the seams and were torn from his body.
Eldon took his crew with him. He also used a cook shack. It was a moving fast-food establishment. In 1925, as he was preparing to go on a mission, I went along as cook (pity the poor men!). Before using the cook shack the farmers' wives had to feed the men and the farmers feed the many horses used on the job.
One or more of the girls of the family stayed at home to help with the housework and the cooking, for there was plenty to do. I marvel that Mama was so resourceful and so strong to direct all the cooking, washing, ironing, sewing, bed making, errands and everything and still have time for the morning visits from neighbors.
We did not go to grocery stores to buy food. We just bought staples we could not produce ourselves. About the only time we used canned goods was when we were sick and were served oyster soup and soda crackers. (If we survived the castor oil or quinine treatment and mustard plaster, and Sister Jackman’s canker medicine cough syrup we needed something tasty.)
“Home” was the house and the yards.
In about 1912 Papa had a 60 ft. high barn built. It had a trolley track just under the peak of the roof along which a large 5-tined fork ran. The fork had a latch to which was attached a long rope so the stacker could dump the hay, about 1/6 of a load at a time. The team to pull the fork was outside the barn, driven by yelled signals from men on the load and in the barn. Hay from "the seven acres" and from the farm filled the barn. By spring, when partly empty, the barn was a wonderful place to play for the children and a nesting place for the hens. Many a rerun of the silent movies was done by us on the rafters and the big cross logs of the barn.Attached to the barn was a sturdy stable of logs. The manger along the south side also made good nesting place.
The cow corral ran along the south and east of the barn. It was partly covered by a straw-covered shed, a good place for the sparrow nests. The calf pen was to the northeast of the corral, next to the pig pen. The pole fence west and south of the corral was a great place for Grant's friends to sit and watch the branding and marking of cattle. The hydrant and water trough were in the southwest of the corral (Old Dobbin, the smart old horse, could turn on the water to flood the place. He got too smart, opened the granary and got foundered.)
The granary sat across the driveway west of the water trough. It was a rustic building made of planks. It was divided into bins where we children liked to bury ourselves in the loose grain. Attached to the granary was the buggy shed and work bench. (A memory is of the resting place of the retired 7-passenger Stude¬baker.) Through the fence was the garage and the coal shed.
Across the yard to the north the chicken coop sat by itself. Next to it was the woodpile of pine and cedar hauled from the west mountain. Further back was the outdoor toilet. (Handy to pick up an apron full of chips or a few sticks of wood.)
Through the fence into the house yard was a potato pit and a swill barrel. I was afraid to go to the pit because I saw a monster there- a gopher with long teeth. I didn't mind going near when we built a fire under the tripod for the soap kettle.
Papa had a large cement cellar constructed east of the kitchen. It had space for hundreds of bottles of fruit, barrels of meat, bushels of apples and vegetables. It had a flat top, an excel¬lent place for tricycle riders and for outdoor beds.
The house was really home. It was small for such a large family as ours, but we managed.
The kitchen, pantry, bathroom and "south bedroom" were on the east side of the house. Parlor, dining room and "north bedroom' were on the west. The boys slept in an unfinished room upstairs, reached by climbing a ladder from the back porch. Some of the girls slept in the parlor on a folding "davenet." All was heated by wood-burning stoves in kitchen, dining room and parlor. It was lighted by coal oil lamps until electricity was installed.
I can't think of home without picturing the furnishings.
The kitchen was a cheery room with its long east window, the sill decorated with blooming geraniums. The sink, range, water heater and dining room door were on the west wall. Doors to the bathroom and pantry were on the north wall; Doors to the porch and bedroom were on the south. Also on the southeast wall was a well-made wood box, painted brown. It had a shelf for matches and the water bucket sat on top.
The kitchen furniture consisted of the Stewart range, a red drop-leaf table made by Grandpa Rawlinson (that I wish I had saved), two rawhide bottomed chairs Mama had bought from a peddler from Rockville, Utah for 50 cents each, and a high chair. The pantry was a repository of shelves and bins for food, dishes, kettles, and a junk drawer for tools. The cream separator took up the east wall. There was no furniture, but baby finger marks on the door were special to me, for I had made them.
The dining room was where we spent most of our time, the real family room. It had a flowered congolium rug, a Charter Oak heater, Mama was proud of the cherry wood cupboard, a leftover from her original furniture after her marriage, and of the square oak dining room table. The top of the cupboard held dishes, the bottom, and books. Two drawers held cutlery and important papers. Grandma Morrey's ash comfortable rocker was the most important chair, where Mama sat to sing and read stories to the children. While Papa was bishop a large roll-top desk occupied the south wall west of the parlor door. On the west wall there was a tall window with white starched lace curtains and a door leading to the porch, The oval window in the door was etched glass of a beautiful design. Then there was the clock shelf high on the west wall between the door and window. The old clock was a hiding place for Mama's gold watch. The clock ticked merrily away until Eldon came home after finishing an irrigation turn, kicked off his boot, and it went sailing through the air, hit the clock and "knocked it to smithereens." (Macel and I had to go from high school down to Magleby Merc the next day to get a replacement for our dependable old friend.)
The parlor and south bedroom were a step higher from the other rooms as they had been part of the log house. The parlor was the showplace of the house. It had a wool Axminister rug, bordered with artificial hardwood patterned linoleum. The walls were papered in green "oatmeal" paper, fashionable at the time. All windows on the south and west had green blinds and starched white lace curtains. Above the door to the south bedroom was a charcoal picture of Great Grandfather Anon Sheffield, in a pretty hardwood frame. On the north wall hung a "painting" in a beautiful blue and gold frame. Mama had traveling "artist" paint the pair of pictures on oilcloth while she worked in Kanosh. The pictures were blah, one of a lake with no scenery around it and another of a meadow of grass. (One of the pair hung in the dining room.)
The piano was the main furniture in the parlor. It was (and is) a beautiful mahogany Kimball with a fancy patterned front, with a 3-legged stool. (Its ivory keys got inflicted by little Robert Morrey yielding a hammer or tool.) The top of the piano was covered with a green velvet scarf with tassels. Several articles adorned the top of the piano- a family album that had the picture of the Pony Express Rider, two mustache cups and saucers on stands, two lovely blue vases which had been wedding gifts in 1900, and Macel's pet rock.
Other furniture in the parlor included a mission style leather davenet and chair, a claw-footed center table. Then, of course, the heater and its stove pipe were brought in and set up for winters. In later years there was a light-colored roll topped desk.
The south bedroom was small with doors to the parlor and the kitchen, and a sunny tall south window. It had no closet until one was made in the southeast corner of the room. The floor was covered with linoleum. There was a brass bed with a straw tick, homemade quilts, and a chenille or heirloom spread.
The north bedroom was slightly larger, but crowded with two brass beds. It had no closet, but had a large "wardrobe" for clothes and hideaways. Mama's small oval-topped trunk held many treasures. We children loved to examine her wedding dress with its boned high neck, the 20-inch waist and peplum, the tiny buttons. We gasped at the wedding shoes and the orange blossoms. The top layer of her wedding cake was wrapped in tissue paper but was pockmarked where we little mice had picked out currants and raisins. Other keepsakes were in the trunk, also the money Mother, as treasurer, kept. On the wall were the enlarged pictures of Mama and Papa. (Little Donald observed, "Aunt Betchis with her arms cut off.)
East of the north bedroom was the bathroom, a catch-all room until the toilet, bathtub and basin were installed. There was an old fashioned wash bench which never retired as a storage place. Then there was the ironing board, which was nearly Papa's demise by the electric cord pulled from the iron. It fell into the bathtub and the electric shock threw him out onto the floor with a burned zigzag down his spine.
The cesspool was out north of the house east of the cherry tree and the currant bushes -all bird feed except for Papa's source of switches which threatened good behavior. (I remember only once I actually was switched on my legs. I was sent for a switch when Helen Bond and I had made trails through the wheat patch. I figured it unjust for her to be punished, too.)
Under the pantry window on the north of the house was a rain barrel- the same one where Mag, Grant's albino magpie met his drowning. There was a burlap covered box used as a refrigerator. High up by the window were nails, one to hang meat in a cool place; another for the meat scrap bag where fat scraps went to save to make soap. A big bin by the kitchen held dry beans and flour.
The whole house lot was fenced with chicken wire with a cap of thin lumber. A lawn was planted on the front and sides of the house, and Mama had a flower garden of roses, petunias, flags, snowballs, golden balls.
Papa was a good provider so food was not in short supply except in early spring when we ate pigweed greens, cottage cheese, bread and gravy. He chose the best of the shorthorn cows to milk. Mama raised chickens, turkeys and geese. We raised pigs; and Papa saw that we had good beef. We raised a garden and a potato patch. Mama made lots of cheese; usually two or three big round ones were on the pantry shelves along with the pans of milk. Cream was nearby on the separator shelf where we could dip our bread for bread, cream and sugar. We used cream and butter for cooking.There was a bin of flour and one of sugar. We used cream and butter freely. Lard was used for pie crust and biscuits. We bought honey and molasses by the five gallons.
Yes, there was always plenty of food although there were many mouths to feed, for our friends were always invited to eat. Papa was always inviting people, white or Indian. They remember and tell about it.
At butchering time we had large roasts of beef or fresh pork. We enjoyed liver, heart, tongue and sausage. Mama made head cheese and mincemeat. We didn't care for venison and fish as our family was not sports minded. Even at the ranch we ate beef. Papa would pick out a yearling calf still sucking its mother- the best kind of critter for meat. (The Indians invited us to share their dogs and chickens-prairie dogs and sage hens, but we didn't.)
In winter there would be a quarter of beef hanging in the garage for us to slice off steaks for breakfast. Mama always made baking powder or soda biscuits for breakfast, A batch of 8 loaves of yeast bread three times a week. She didn't make a pie; she made a half dozen at a time. Her cakes were special. In fact, Mama was an excellent cook. (We ate lots of rice and bread puddings, bread and preserves or honey.)
TIME MARCHED ON
Time rolled on. World War I came and went. Eldon wasn't old enough to enlist. He missed the harrowing experiences of friends who went to War- Clayton Parker who fought in Argonne Forest, Harold Parker (For whom our Harold was named) who was torpedoed, Clyde Wells who died of Spanish influenza. Papa was loyal and had us buy war bonds and eat bran bread in order to help the Belgians. Mama worked in the Red Cross.
The influenza spread and was frightful. Uncle Eli Rawlinson and Aunt Eliza Rawlinson Olsen died of it, each leaving small children.
In the next fall, 1919, Aunt Dora Rawlinson and her two children Joe, the age of Rachel, and Laura, the age of Harold, came to live with us while she taught school. In September Grant had a serious illness of acute bright disease. He was 7.
In January of 1920 the influenza hit our town and our whole family except Macel and Aunt Dora, were stricken, four of us with pneumonia. Eldon, Mama and I got better, but Harold was in a coma for 21 days. It took months for him to recover. Aunt Jane came from Salt Lake General Hospital to nurse us. School was closed for the year and only Alice got to go back to high school.
In May 1920 Mama went to the hospital hemorrhaging and partly underwent a serious operation. She bled so badly that she nearly lost her life and was away from home until August, then an invalid. It left us girls to manage the house and the family and tend our baby brother Harold, who was still very frail. We nearly lost him by accidents and his swallowing a Red Cross pin. It was a time of great distress for Papa with worry, work and expense He had to sell his Kanosh property to pay Mama's expenses.
In January, 1921, South Sevier Stake was organized from Sevier Stake, Papa, who had been bishop counselor, was called to be bishop of the Joseph Ward. Mama was made counselor to Matilda B. Ross, Stake Relief Society president. That brought much church work, traveling to meetings, etc.
The next years brought great changes in the Morrey family.
Alice went to the LDS Hospital to take a course in practical nursing. After a year she came home and finished high school. Then she began practicing, in 1924 to Bingham Canyon. There she met Ralph DeWitt Bailey, and on January 4, 1925 married him. It was our parents' 25th wedding anniversary. Macel graduated from high school in 1925.
I don't remember which year it was that there was high water in the Sevier River to wash out the river bridge. As potatoes had been high priced the year before Papa planted potatoes. Macel and I camped at Will Field and cut potato sets to plant. It was a good crop, but the price went to nothing. Papa was in debt for the sacks after he paid freight on the potatoes.
Another tragedy struck when disgruntled neighbors set fire and burned 200 tons of hay on our farm. The gas buckets were found proving it was arson. Of course, being dependent on feed for the cattle, it was a lean year with starving cattle. Eldon had to go away to work at Bingham Canyon to get money to finance him on his mission to the Northern States Mission in November of 1925. Macel couldn't go to college so she went to work in Salt Lake City.
Elise, the first grandchild was born March 7, 1926. I, Revo, graduated from high school in May. Mama went to Salt Lake for further surgery and stayed there with Alice because DeWitt had gone to Los Angeles to work. She brought Alice and the little baby home with her. Macel came home in June, via Oak City. Although she was engaged to Ray French, she met Ellis Anderson who changed her mind. Ethel Roper came home with her for a visit.
Then tragedy struck on July 26, 1926 when Papa died of angina, just as Alice described it. There was so little warning! Mama was devastated. Eldon had to come home from his mission to manage the farm.
Macel and I picked the delicious Elberta ripe peaches from the young orchard and sold them for $2.00 a bushel. We used the money to go away to school at the University of Utah. Brother Willis took us and Clara Christiansen from Monroe to Salt Lake in his open-air Ford. We left home at 8 A.M. and arrived at our destination at 8 P.M.!
Vera Mortensen had come to town in 1926 to teach school. She was pretty and full of fun, a real favorite. Eldon began going with her and was lucky to be able to edge out the other guys. They were married 10 July 1929.
I had received my elementary diploma from the University in 1928 and began teaching at Aurora the day Macel's first child, Francis, was born. In 1929 Vetris graduated from high school and went in nurses training. Mama was always the Good Samaritan and took Uncle Will Morrey in to take care of him when he was ill. He died of heart trouble two years after Papa died, Uncle Hen(ry) Morrey had died the year before Uncle Will. Uncle George Morrey brought Uncle Asa ("Ace") to her and she cared for him the rest of his life.
Eldon and Vera moved into the Baker home a block from our home. They were indeed a comfort to Mother who was so lonely. Harold's death on 05 November 1930, when he was almost 13, was such a blow to her.
The stock market crash in 1929 was not felt immediately in Utah but reached us in a hard way, especially when we were hit by severe drought and prices for our products falling so low. The government had people reduce their herds and we complied, selling cattle for 30 cents a pound, dyeing our grain and potatoes to sell as seconds. Milk sold for 5 cents a quart. We had no money so it hurt all of us.Macel and Ellis didn't get over for two years. Vetris was on rations and Grant said he quit school because he was ashamed to admit that he couldn't buy his school books.
Our old kitchen range had fallen apart; Mother had bought a new one with a small down payment. The salesman haunted her weekly for the payments. Hungry salesmen bothered people everywhere.
Mother and I had bought a 1929 Chevrolet sedan. We didn't get much use of it for it turned out to be a "girling car" for Grant and his friends who could rake up 25 cents for a gallon of gas. He found Myrle in Richfield, so it was worth it. He couldn't rest until he could get her to marry him on 08 March, 1934, the day of President Franklin D. Roosevelt's bank holiday.
DeWitt lost his job in Los Angeles so they came home and moved the log cabin from the farm and lived in it until he got employment in Kimberly. It was good to have them here. It was the days of the Shady Dell dances in Sevier Canyon. Rachel met Myrle's brother Leo Poulsen who courted her with his coupe car.She wanted to go to college but marriage offered the substitute when there was no money. They were married 29 Nov. 1933 and Leo built a house. He was frugal and a hard worker. They managed on very little money. They had no children until Lorraine was born 28 August 1938.
Life was drab for Mama and she was discouraged. She made an unfortunate marriage to Arthur Poulsen of Richfield and moved into his poor home. He had two small boys, two teen-aged boys and two grown girls who were away from home. It was an unhappy situation for her and she soon discovered she had made a mistake, so came back home. However, she had come to the attention of good neighbors William T. Orrock and his wife Annie. After he was left a widower he began paying attention to Mother and courted her with plumber calls and peonies from his garden. They were married 02 April 1936 and she moved into his home in Richfield.
Uncle Will, as we called him, was a good man, who became a loving, kind man to Mother and her family. He made a home for all of us. He was jolly and Mother was happy. She fit into the community of Richfield. They belonged to the First Ward and Mother was made president of the primary. They sang in the choir and did many things together.
That left Revo and Vetris the last of the Morreys unattached. I went on a mission to Texas-Louisiana 1936-1938, and then moved to Salt Lake City teaching school until I married A. Bryant Young 20 July 1950. Vetris went east to Philadelphia where she worked until 1948, then Salt Lake City. On 03 July 1963 she took the name of Mary V. Hanson by marrying Henry Hansen of North Dakota, a marriage of short duration. (Mother had died 31 March 1958.)
That leaves Eldon and Grant's sons to carry on the Morrey name.
Some things I intended to mention come to mind.
Papa left very little insurance and a BIG debt. He had mortgaged the entire farm land for $2,000 to the Federal Land Bank. He had been able to keep up the payments, but when hard time came, it was difficult.
There was a small sheep herd which went for herd bills.
Joseph Town was finally able to pay off the debt for which Papa had signed a personal note in 1919. Now our property could be probated and divided.As both boys were married they wanted to be in business for themselves. Mama said, "If the girls think the boys got the best by getting the farms they are mistaken. I would have lost the farm. They took it over and paid the mortgage. I sold each of them a pasture for just what their father had paid for it."
Grant and Myrle lived in the two south rooms of our house until they built their own rock house. They were able to move into it before Margaret was born. It is a lovely home.
I also meant to mention our animals, for they were next in importance to the family. They did our work.
Of the horses there was Baldy, the subject of Alice's poem. Grant had Blondy which he taught to paw to tell his age and to shake hand. Glance was Harold's beautiful horse, sold to pay Harold's funeral. Dobin and Nance was a strong, coordinated team. Nance had a deep scar across her breast where she had been cut in a barbed wire fence. She fell off a cliff at the Narrows in Clear Creek Canyon and broke her leg. It was sorrowful to have to do away with her. We didn't play with our Scottish shepherd dogs. They were for helping tend cattle. Snip was our favorite. He knew our property and guarded it even by following the saddle when Uncle Joe Moore borrowed it.
A cat was allowed in the house, but no dog was. They were kept as mousers. One I remember used to lie on the lawn and let dog pull it by the tail. When it got tired it would rise, arch and spit. Eldon liked to tie a paper on a kitten's tail and laugh as the animal chased its tail.
Joseph, Utah Census and Nonsensus
Colaborador: glentz Created: 1 year ago Updated: 1 year ago
Written by Revo Morrey (Young)
An overview of the people living in Joseph Utah around 1920
The neighbors we knew best were the Levi H. and Sarah (Hatch) Jackman family. They were in our view because they lived in a tall log house across the street south from us. There was a flower garden and herb garden with a pole railing around it surrounding it from the well with its windlass and oak bucket. A row of tall silver poplar trees lined the street down to the corral. Sister Jackman was the town nurse with home-made cough syrup. She said she knew all about sick children because she had always had sick children. She carried a big tin milk pan with a white dishtowel cover to carry home the flour, sugar, vegetables or meat donated her as part of her pay. Brother Jackman was the mail carrier and he drove a one-seated buggy pulled by one horse, Biddy. He met every train, morning and afternoon and would take a passenger for 25 cents. He was ward clerk and baptizer. Once or twice each summer he rounded up a crowd of boys and girls to take to the canal behind Lydia Wells' house for the ceremony. He was also ward chaplain, I think, for if we were late for church we had to wait outside until he mumbled, "Children of Israel---tops of the mountains." He was a good man who wouldn't take his medicine, on his death bed, until "Have ye give Sahary hers? She's lots sicker than I be." (Macel and I walked home from high school in Monroe for his funeral. As I can't remember the service, we probably were too exhausted to go to it.)
Some of the Jackmans had already left the nest before we arrived on the scene, but they came home often. Levi and Oliver were "section crew" on the railroad, and lived at Marysvale (?) and the “Y” at Sevier. Levi Lewis and Annie (Petersen) had “Sadie” (Rasmussen), Dora and Francis. Oliver and wife Mary (Peterson) had Eva, Reuben, and Thelma. Francis and wife, Pearl (Baldwin), lived at Junction until they moved to Joseph when he taught school. (We played with their children Bert, Mark and Cleo.)
Wallace Arthur Jackman was Uncle Eli's friend. After he came from his mission he married Velma (Foreman) and moved to Idaho. (In his retirement years he came back for a visit. He said, "I went to the farm. I lay down at the ditch and took a drink. It tasted just like it used to.") Wilford Jackman married Perl Hanks. Ezbon and Necha lived at home until Ezbon married our cousin Killarnia Moore and continued living in the home after his parents were gone. They had children Oma, Madge, Enid, Carl, Harvey, Dan and Renee. Necha married Sim Stapley. We knew Sim's intentions when we saw him knocking at the door as he carried a big bouquet of his sister Sadie Gay's garden flowers. Their children were Thora, Erma, Norine (?), Floyd, Iva Del, Leland.
The Jackman boys were musical, playing coronets, flute, violin, etc. It was not unusual to hear them playing at the farm while Biddy wandered away. Brother Jackman would follow, pulling redroots from the beet patch as he went.
Uncle "Hen" and Aunt Eff (Effa Hyatt) lived a block west from us. He was Papa's brother. They had lived on adjoining farms and bought adjoining places in town. They lost their first children and only Robert and Utahna were left. We associated with them almost daily; big family vs. little one. Aunt Eff was a wonderful housekeeper and a perceptive humorist.
Neighbors to the north were George and "Nine" (Salina Ross) Low. I played with Evelyn until they moved to Beaver. (Evelyn and I got a switching for making paths in Papa's grain patch.) When they left town Charles and Minnie (Gilbert) Hopkins moved into the house. Their children Iva, Deward, Grace, Janice and Olive corresponded in age to us children. The Hopkins house was clean as a pin and their customs appealing. They celebrated "Mother Goose Day" on New Year’s Day (maybe because the Sears Roebuck order had not arrived for Christmas.)
The Hopkins family moved to Delta about the time the Alunite Mill closed after World War I and the Will and Susie (Noaks) Mills family bought the home. They were good neighborly people. Will had osteomyelitis and suffered a great deal from his crippled leg. Susie gathered in everyone, especially the neighbor children. Delroy Mills had married Ruby Ross (Daniel's daughter). The other children at home were Margaret, Leonard, Melvin, Maude and Dick.
We were fond of the Arnfred and Lizzie (Elizabeth Hyatt) Christensen family who had a farm and lived a block east and a block north of us across the little canal. Arnfred was the bishop and also the school principal. He was a good-natured Dane from Ephraim. I enjoyed a class of penmanship he taught us, "Waltz me around again, Willie, around, around, and around," as we practiced making pen and ink ovals. His teaching was humorous as when he read, "Men may cry, Peas peas, but there are no peas," when correcting a paper. Lizzie was Aunt Eff's sister and the children, Laura, Walter and Janice Marie, were our playmates. We were sad when they moved to Shelley, Idaho.
W. T. Owens bought Christensen's home and the Owens family came from Panguich. Brother Owens had a first family and a second family. Of the first were Alta (Mrs. George Daley who died young, leaving children Mildred and "Dot”). Gwen lived at home and was courted by Cliff Shipp. Of the second family Ferol was the apple of Charlie Shipp's eye, but married Dwaine Hendrickson of Glenwood. Delwin married Clara Lott. Waldo married Grace Joos, Meta married Owen Warenski and had Ned, Billy and Marjorie. Melda married Richard Beck and reared her family in Joseph. Rayfl made a home in Salt Lake or Ogden. Brother Owens wife was Elizabeth (Richards) who seemed to be a homebody. He was a choir leader and was always present, even when his daughters gave his hair a henna pack and turned it orange, causing him to have to wear a skull cap, even in church. He was a sly man when playing the game Barnyard Animals. He was named a hen. He ran to the center of the ring, cackled, and ran back to his seat to find an egg. He slipped it into his pocket and hardly anyone was the wiser.
Still later, Bench Utley and family moved from Millard County and bought the Owens family home.
As we farmed east of the river, we were better acquainted with folk there. Nehemiah, Dave and Pearl (Thornton) Harmon had a deformed daughter, Rosina, to whom they were devoted. Dave was easy-going and pleasant. Who else would wear an underbit in his nose all the rest of his life? (Dave was skinning a deer when his knife slipped. He reached up and whacked off the piece of his nostril that was hanging.) Pearl was red-headed, always blinking one eye nervously. It was said that when telephones were new to the area, Pearl wouldn't let the line cross her place because she wasn't going to let everyone know her business.
One quiet spring day Papa went out to plow the garden. The horse balked and wouldn't pull the plow through the orchard. Papa, who knew all the swear words, used them on the horse. He finished the job and went in to dinner. While still sitting at the table, he and Mama heard groaning, panting and mumbling. Looking out, they saw Pearl and her bent old father who was without teeth, crawling through the pole fence. It took several repetitions before they understood, "Is Dave in the river? Is Dave in the river?" Dave had taken Rosina to town and it was necessary to ford the river at a crossing of the county road about a hundred rods above our place.
Robert and Elnora (Gay) Ross owned the farm north of our place. It was before I remember that an incident happened which involved me. Mama took me to church to have me blessed. She was beside herself when two other babies had my name. Mary Ostergaard hurriedly gave me the name I carry. When Papa greeted his little one, "My Evelyn Lucina," Mama said, "I dinn't name her that. I named her ______ I don't know what I named her." In the night she remembered, got up, lighted the lamp and wrote R-e-v-o on a paper. As Papa was riding after cattle the next day, Elnora said, "What did you name the baby?" Papa said, "I don't know, but here it is."
The Rosses moved back from Uintah to their farm, after an absence. Their children Ab, Vaun, Andrew, Ila and June came to our school. Ila’s long, dark ringlets set her apart. I stayed with her one night and had a cold horseback ride to school the next morning.
I don't remember any of the Birdsall family that lived on the hill. Their adopted son visited in our home. We children gawked at him, for he was black, the first we had ever seen. Mama told us the Birdsalls sent to an orphanage for a boy. When he came their hearts were touched and they wouldn't refuse to keep him. Years later, I was in that big empty house. I think Dell Gay's daughter Verl (Nielsen) moved there.
Dell and Sadie (Stapley) Gay lived in the next place (except the "Will Field”) south past Harmons. Dell had lost two young wives, one leaving a daughter, Regena, my age. He and Sadie had Verl, Venoy, Dee and Carlyle. They were hard-working people who raised fruit, vegetables and flowers. Dell was a Sunday school teacher, a familiar sight in a long bearskin coat, carrying his toothbrush in his suit coat pocket in plain sight. Dell was later one of Papa's counsellors in the bishopric.
Charley Shelton and his wife Nettie (Annetta Warenski) had a big rock house at the bend of the road. Some of the family had married and moved away before my time, but I do remember Elda, Annie, Lorin and Alice. I went to Lorin's birthday party and his mother taught us to play Post Office, where we paid forfeits with kisses. Most of the time Lorin was my enemy because he called me names. He told me long afterward that he did it because he liked me.
Nettie Shelton took her husband's pants to mend and went across the river to visit her parents, the Warenski's. Charley was on a mad and wouldn't go after - until he was forced to. He wanted to go to the Fourth of July celebration. "Where are my pants?" he demanded. "Did you look in the trunk?" Annie asked innocently. "Yes, I turned everything upside down." While Charley was putting up the horse, Annie slipped the pants into the trunk. Then she showed them to Charley. "Well, I'll be damned! I couldn't see them."
Jack and Mary (Adams) Robinson lived close to the river bridge. They were from Tennessee. Their southern ways seemed strange to us. Brother Robinson walked a few steps ahead of his wife. His brogue amused us as he visited us in the capacity of home teacher. "Now what is that boy heaping upon Phillip?" he inquired when Grant hid to conceal his grin. He liked Grant and told him, "Boy, ya'll kin drive through my place if ya'll put up the (wire) gate." Grant took him at his word, but could see Brother Robinson coming full speed ahead from the opposite direction, shouting, "Whoa, Whoa!" and tearing through the fence. "Boy, ya'll go through and put up the gate."
He was concerned when Grant broke his back and came over to offer a remedy. "Ah broke my back onst and war a kilt pretty nigh daid. It happened so: The women folks had throwed out the wash water out the noth door an made a heap a ice. Ah war goin' to the train, an as Ah stept out that noth doah mah feet slippt out frum undah me an Ah fell on that heap a ice. Ach (Arch Hicks) came runnin but Ah sez, "Done tech me or Ah'll die. Leave me be." Ah laid thah til Ah could crawl into the house. Ah could neither lay down nor set up. Ah war that way fer several days till I saw Molly puttin on her stays. Ah sez, "Molly, if y'll give me them stays, Ah think Ah kin wear em." An, oh, how good they felt! Grant Boy, if ya'll kin find a pair of stays, Ah think t'll cure ya all's back."
Another story that tickled Grant and all of us was: "When Ah war a boy in Tennessee it war a custom that when a man die thare would be a auction to sell off his goods. A neighbor died an I sez to mah pappy, “Ah want ya'll to fetch me his gold watch an chain.” He sez, “Son, ah will if Ah kin." When the sale war over Ah seen mah pappy leanin agin the rail fence talkin to some men. Ah sez, "Pappy, did ya’ll bring me that watch an chain?” He sez, "No, Son, Ah couldn't affort it." That made me powerful mad. Ah slippt behind him an sot mah teeth in the thick pa't o' his thigh. He whoppt me a powerful blow that sent me sprawlin."
Let's go next to String Town, or Jericho and come from there into town.
I don't remember the Svdeens or Ostregards or where they lived. The first people living in the first house were the Carlos Andersons, in the late twenties or early thirties. They were from Brooklyn (Elsinore) so associated there as much as in Joseph. The only ones I recall were Maxine (Henrie) who became a writer, and Kyhl.
Laura (Gilbert) Prisby was a widow who supported her family by raising fruit (Gaino and Jonathan apples), honey and vegetables. Her family was Brice (married Martha Ronnow and had children Lawrence, Marie, and others), Gladys, Gladys who had a lovely girl LaVee, Minnie who was my age, Ileen, and Cline.
Across the road the Solmonsens, Gus and Susie (Gilbert) had a farm. I think they may have lost their child when Laura Prisby lost two with diptheria. They moved to the Uintah Basin and came back only in old age. They sold the farm and I recall going there to visit Herman and Fern (Fernie Moore) Lott shortly before they moved to Fielding, Utah. They had a large family: Belva, Alta, Calvin, Theon, Vernile, Vernessa, John, maybe others. The farm became the property of Clair Orrock and Beverly (Christensen), who had children Lila, Elaine and Donna. (Jack Shipp and Lorraine (Poulsen) have reared their children there since they bought the home.)
Billy (Joseph William) and Margaret (Neel) Parker built the large rock home on the north side of the highway. It was an imposing structure with the double row of poplar trees along the street. They (Parkers) had moved there from a small house near town. I went to the big home when it was new. Margaret had died but the girls, Myrtle (Mcknight) and Ireta (Lemon) were entertaining the "Tickaboo Club" of women. That was the first of many visits I made with Madeline and Melba. In fact, many kids in town went there on Sunday afternoons because they were welcomed. Parkers were hard-working and there was milking to do, delivering ice from their ice house, dinner dishes and other chores to do. The family was: Elbert (married Zina Snow whose name was Lucina like mine. They took over the home and reared their family of Iris, Sylvia, Lynn, Fay, Margaret, Melba and Joyce, as Elbert raised prize jersey cows and race horses. He also was bishop of the Joseph Ward.) Myrtle (McKnight), Iretta (Lemmon), Ervin, Maurine (Fuhriman), Clayton, May (Smith), Alton, Madeline (Nielson), and Melba (Redd). Mr. Parker later married "Aunt Til" (Matilda Olsen Dalton) who had a daughter, Edna (Who married Byron Parker, Billy's half-brother.) Then they had Mary, Hulda (Mrs. Dilworth Young) and Olena. The Parkers were lovely, charitable people. Brother Parker was bishop, then later in the stake presidency. He was a strict man, as we noted when the baby Olena had a tantrum in church. Her father left his presiding post, came down and spanked her soundly and returned to his seat.
Billy was known to have embarrassed his wife "Maggie" while living in their tiny house. She said, "Oh, my! Here come the Relief Society teachers, and look at these children! They need their faces washed and some clean clothes." Billy said, "Hide them. You kids go under the bed. You hide behind that curtain, etc." The company stayed too long so Billy said, "You children may come out now."
Ervin, as a little boy, got lost when he was supposed to come home from school. A search was made, but no Ervin, no tracks toward the canal, no report of strangers in town, no wild animals! Eventually Ervin crawled off a haystack where he had been asleep.
I wasn't acquainted with the Hunts on the next farm. I just remember Marion coming to school without a haircut. The other boys were wearing "Butch" cuts. They caught Marion and clipped his hair until he was bald.
Eli and Mary Jane (Green) Barney bought the Hunt place (which is now occupied by Lynn and Shirley Johnson Parker). Some of the Barney children were Laura (Wells), Violet (Willis), Thelma, Stella, Larcell and Betty. Eli was part of the Barney orchestra who furnished music for our dances. The Barneys told jokes on each other, such as: One said, "I'm the dirtiest. The other said, "You ought to be, you're the oldest." and, "We Barneys don't talk fast, but we fight fast." One Sunday I went with one of the Barney girls to her home. Eli let us take the horses and buggy to go to Brooklyn and Elsinore. I was shocked into memory by the sight of dozens and possibly hundreds of snakes we saw coming out of hibernation in a pile of posts on the Elsinore hill, as it was a warm spring day.
Jesse Willis and his kind little wife Emily (Robinson) built the house at the turn of the road (Later occupied by Charles and Mabel (French) Shipp and children). Their children Earl, Harriet or Hattie (Smith), Viola and George were gone from home when I first was aware of the family. At home were Priscilla (who married Orin Howard and had precocious children Orin, Chester and Mona. When a mere baby Orin could repeat, "Po-po-catapetel is the highest mountain in Mexico" and in church “I want to go out ." "Why did you want to go out?" "Because the bishop said he'd have to call on all the men, and I didn’t want to preach.") Merrill married Violet Barney and had children Harvey and Ruth. He had a garage on the north edge of Joseph. Uncle Will Orrock hit a pig that was never identified, and the grease skidded him into the garage causing a crash. Julia was Alice's (Morrey, later Bailey) friend. Arthur and Walter were younger. Brother Willis was a gruff man with a heart of gold. He was conductor on the "Sanpete Creeper", the D.& R.g. railroad. He always called out "Joseph City," none of that "Joe Town." for him. He toted us kids around. He took three of us Morrey girls to the opening celebration of Bryce Canyon Park in 1925. He even introduced us to the Democrat Governor George H. Dern. In 1926 he took Macel, Clara Christiansen of Monroe, and me to Salt Lake City to enroll in the University of Utah. It was an all-day drive in his open Ford.
The next home I recall up the line was that of John A. and Molly (Gilbert) Parker. John was a progressive man who loved music, had a history of band leader, and appreciated education-later being on the district Board of Education. His was an experimental farm for the Agricultural College. Molly was a home-body, a fine cook, and jolly company. She enjoyed telling jokes on her family.
Governor Maybe was "stumping" in the state. Molly reported to John, "The Governor was here to see you today." "What did he want? What did you tell him?" "I said, Mr. Parker isn't here; he is a very busy man." That was turning the tables, for the joke had been on John, John Morrey and Walt Hyatt. That was told them when they asked to see the governor as they went to inspect the then new capitol building.
Molly told about Andrew: "Ma, what is button-hole twist you told me to get?" "I asked Mabel Roberts for it, and she said, 'get out of here, you dirty dog, or I'll call Pa."'
John and Molly's family was prominent in our town. Ethel (Thornton) and husband lived there until they moved to Salt Lake City. Their children were Yvonne, Parker, Mayo and June. Wallace, Ethel's husband, drove the school bus the year of the Spanish influenza. Not many students were going back to school; Alice (Morrey) was. She was a night hawk so in the morning she lay in bed as long as possible. Wallace would sit out in the bus after he had honked. The family would be getting Alice ready, one feeding her, another putting up her lunch, another lacing her shoes, all the time she was ratting her hair.
"Nettie", Martha Annette Parker (Cook), was a favorite of ours, and often worked for Mama in our home. She had an admirer, "Frenchy" who owned a car. When Nettie heard the car coming she ran and hid. It was in that car I had my first ride.
Virgil married Annie Farnsworth and she taught school while he went on a mission. I remember the town turning out to meet him at the train, when he came home. Vetris, one of Annie's first grade pupils, said, "I didn't know Mrs. Farnsworth had ever kissed a man." Annie told about Vetris in school. The children listened to the poem "Up In A Swing", and told "What they saw." Vetris saw stars; she fell out. Virgil died young, leaving Annie with children Ruth, Irene (Gray), Virgil and John. When her children were grown Annie married Snow McDonald.
Harold, still living at 92, was a popular young man in town and a prosperous business man. He went to World War I and his ship was torpedoed. When he came home he married Gladys Anderson of Monroe. They had eleven lovely and talented children: Geraldine (Aldous), Robert Hal, Juel, Patsy (Greenwood), Bonnie (Evans), Colleen (Sanders), Sally, Sammy and Gordon.
Hazel married George Henderson and had children: Garn, Virginia and others. Everyone loved Hazel and enjoyed George's humor. When Eldon's first baby, John Rolph was born Eldon was a proud 30 year old father. George looked at the baby and said, "Are you going to try to save him?" When the ward was raising money for the new church there was a Kangaroo court with George the judge. I had to appear before the court because I had been at the married people's dance. George said, "What are you doing with thirty kids if you aren't married?" I think it was Dennis Carter or Joe Baker arrested for speeding in an old car. He was seen "Going up the street with all the stops pulled out."
Thelma lived at home again after two marriages. We girls used to walk to the farm to get our hair marcelled and listen to her Atwater Kent radio squawk, and that was about all we could hear as there was so much static.
Andrew married Evelyn Bohn; Max married Melba Eames, Max' twin brother Rulon Rex was killed in a hunting accident in 1930, the same day that my brother Harold Morrey was also killed in a hunting accident. Karl went to college and became a professor at Utah State College.
I don't know when Ariel and Maggie (Lott) made their home along the road, but they reared their family there. They were: Isabell, Donna, Norma, Fred, Gail, Harvey and Monte. Ariel is still alive at 92.
The Will and Charl (Charlotte Bradbury) Dunn family was colorful. Will was a small English man with a lame leg. He had a sheep herd, so the home often had an odor of good mutton stew. Charl knew the birthdays of every kid in town, "He is the same age as my Raymond", or Ethel, Bud, Karl, or Arnold, or Mary, or Vida, or Iva and Ila, or Lono, or Clair. Will was one of the first in town to have a car. I think it was a 1914 Ford. It was impressive with a chrome front, and a crank that dangled in front, and a rolled-back top. It is said that he took it to the mechanic and told him, "Grease it from the toe nails to the eyebrows. Put Orl in the transgression and check the devilrenchie." They had a vocabulary for every occasion. Charl told me that some injured man "went from drupor into drupor." Something made her feel "ranchum", and when quilting she was going "vicey, vercy." Her mother had been operated and "the decision busted and the bed wasn't fertile." A man in Canada had been made "Menistrator" of a friend's estate, and "he menistrated it all away." It was fun to visit with them.
"Bill and "Aunt Ett" (William and Etta Hyatt Wells) also lived on a farm. They had a large family, some married and living in town. Bertha was Mrs. John Lott; and Clyde married John's sister Vernessa Lott. (She died young and he died of Spanish influenza during World War I.) Walter married Laura Barney. I don't remember Lester, but at home were Delbert, Leslie, Frank, Rulon, Grant and Lanita. Bill worked away from home on construction, but Aunt Ett was always at church and was our loved primary president. I can just see her at church, wetting her handkerchief with spit to wipe the baby's face. In primary in the Relief Society hall she assigned me to give the "memory gem" the next week. I forgot. On the way to primary Macel asked me if I was prepared. I panicked because I didn't know a Bible verse. Macel said, "Say, 'Jesus wept.' That's a Bible verse.' I doubted it, but was on the spot. When my part was announced I clumped all the way up the long hall and said, "Jesus wept", and clumped back to my seat.
Besides church, Aunt Ett was a regular attendant at the weekly 10 cent picture shows Mr. Engar brought from Elsinore. (We sat on long slat benches and school desks.) Even before the time of Tom Mi those early films were cliff-hangers and the continued ones always left the heroine tied to a railroad track or in an abandoned mine and we had to go back the next week to see how she escaped. Aunt Ett moved back and forth with the movement of the horses, anticipated aloud all the horrors, "Hurry! Hurry! - Now that bridge is going to break!--Oh, you big fool!"
Somewhere, running east toward the river was the Warenski Lane. When I was a little girl Necha Jackman took me with her in the buggy to herd cows. After sampling the sour bullberries which grew in profusion, we went to Al and Sophia (Wells, sister of William “Bill” Wells) Warenski's farm house for a drink. The old black dog met us at the gate and followed us around to the kitchen door. Mrs. Warenski, in a large white waist apron, invited us to use the dipper that hung above the water bucket on the "wash bench." Her kitchen smelled of fresh apple pie. Umm!
Ed and Lou (Edward and Lucinda Wells) Skinner lived on the east side of the road. The children I remember were Letha, Jim, Earl, Elva, Lamar and Louise. I liked Lamar, but he avoided me after I scratched him with my long fingernails because he dipped my blond braids in the ink well on his desk.
George and Althea (Foreman ) Bradbury lived in a smaller house while they built the rock house at the north entrance to Joseph. Eltha's niece, Eltha Winn lived with them and then they had a son, R. G. We spoke' of "Big Eltha and little Eltha." They attended church all the time, but George, a cattle man, didn't. He observed the work going on the new church. When approached for a contribution he said, "I'll give you a donation, by ____, if you'll tell me when they learned to dance on a side hill."
For a usual thing in the town of Joseph each family lived on a quarter of a block. The first, entering town from the north, was the home of "Pete and Bell" (Peter and Isabell Farnsworth) Lott. There was another big family, though some were already in homes of their own: Herman, Maggie (Parker), Celia (Hopkins), John, Vernessa (Wells), and at home Emma (Christensen), Clara (Owens), Florence (Wanlas), Hazel (Edinger), Grace (Hyatt), Harvey and Vernal. I went to school with Florence and Hazel. Once Hazel didn't come and the teacher questioned Florence. Florence explained, "She hasn't any shoes until Pa and Ma go to Richfield. Dell was teasing her and she threw her shoe at him, and it went into the peach preserves on the stove."
John Lott and Bertha (Wells) both died young leaving a large family, seven, I think. Mary and Deloyd kept them together until Mary was old enough to marry. There were Naomi, Wanda, Beverley, Florence and others.
Lewis and Annie (Anderson) Ross' home was across the street south from Lotts. Nora of the family was a little older than I, but she was my friend. Andrew and Marie (Butcher) and Hakan were married. (I remember meeting Hakan and Mildred (Prisby) as they came home from their honeymoon trip.) Still at home were Lewie (Lewis), a harmless man-child who used to visit around town, Josie, Lavon, Melba and Nora (Utley). I think it was at their home I first tasted venison, brought from the west mountain. Lewis told a story, "I just went to knock on Jackman's door when Ezbon opened it a crack, hawked and spit right in my eye. That was sure a good joke on Ezbon."
Snow and "Noan" (Elnora Ross) McDonald lived on the opposite corner of the block from Rosses. They had the adobe house that was built for the Joseph United Order. Their children Ross, Dan, Mary and Ada, were around our ages, Ada was Vetris' (Morrey) pal, but I knew Dan best. I was grown before I knew he was the little boy in second grade who had insisted there was a parade on his birthday (July 24). (Dan, Phil Shipp and DeMont Bell were the first beaux of Luie Anderson, Alice Bell and myself.)
The next block south was for public buildings-the Relief Society hall, school and the public square. Joseph F. Parker owned the frontage of the block west across the street.
Brother Parker had been one of the few polygamists in town. His first wife, Mary Ross Parker, died before I remember, and her home was gone and the family married and away. They still came home often to see "Daddy," as they called their father, so we knew them: Huldah (Leavitt), “Billy" (J. W.), T. Bryant, (Whose wife was Ader Gilbert. They lived in Joseph before moving to Richfield, their children being Lyman, Lawrence, Arlene (Michelsen), Gilbert.) John, Mary Susannah (Young, and my dear mother-in-law), Anna (McClellan), Amy (Webber), Estella (Goodwin), Ella (Ogden) and Alta (Poulson).
The second wife, Adelia (Cooley) died before I remember, and daughter "Viney" (Melvina Baird) was married, but the others at home were Ariel, Florence (Sylvester), Marie (Larsen) and Byron.
Brother Parker, who had been the bishop for many years, before I remember, was a sociable man people not related to him, called "Uncle Joe". He said he made the girls hard to catch, which was true, for we were usually with some of his grandchildren whom he kissed when he met them - and extended the privilege to others. He married a widow, "Aunt Ellen" (Brown Nyswander), and the marriage was on the rocks. She often visited in our home to tell her troubles. She was an advocate (and advertisement) for asafetida which smelled worse than limburger cheese, and which she wore on her neck to ward off disease. She talked so much about her sugar diabetes that Grant called for, "Please pass the sugar diabetes," while she ate at our table.
When Brother Parker was a free man again a Danish woman from Sanpete spotted him and moved here bag and baggage, made a contract with him, which they signed and sealed. She was Louisa Torkelson. She was quite a woman and watched him like a hawk. He offered us some of his pie plant from a long row, but she kept saying, "Remember Mareeee and her eleven kits." Yet, when we went into the house with her alone, she climbed up on a chair and took a plate of candy off the top of the wardrobe to treat us. Her granddaughter, Blanche Fullmer, came to live with them, and married the town's bachelor, Delbert Wells.
Across the street south from Parker's was the pool hall, turned to cafe, to grocery store. The frame building was destroyed by fire while Owen Warenski was managing it. Next to it was the Roberts store, a long log building. Both buildings had wide porches in front where men liked to loiter to swap yarns and do tricks. I was offered some candy by one of the pranksters. Peeking into the sack I found a set mousetrap. Grant and his bunch fixed up one above the sidewalk near the store. They hung a horse collar in the tree. Charley Cracroft, a little bent-over man with a squeaky voice (Aunt Eff said he looked like a monkey on a grindstone), was the victim. In the dark the boys let the collar down, knocking him over while he repeated, "Sic um, Bob!"
Bill Roberts was English. He kept a poorly stocked store, but for years, the only one in Joseph. He would say, "I 'aven't it today, but will 'ave it tomorrow.” Then he'd make the trip in his Ford to Chris Anderson's in Elsinore or Richfield. I had a hard time buying a light globe from him as he asked, Wat wot?" I thought he was saying, "Want what?" His large family took turns clerking, and I think his crippled son, Joe, ended managing the store.
The Roberts home was south of the store. Bill's wife Sarah (Briggs) is reported to have been crying of fright before her first baby was born and Bill coaxed, " 'Ave this one and you won't have to 'ave hany more." The children were Sarah, Abe, Della, W. H., Joe, Harriet, Ida, George, Vera, Lawrence, Mabel and Ione.
Mary Brown, Will and John Dunn's English mother lived in the middle of the block with her family, Lono Brown, Lily (Winget), Edna (Hopkins), and Lena (Christiansen). Their house burned down and I don't know where they moved. Lono went to Canada and the girls lived in Monroe.
On the south corner of the block was the affluent home of Andrew Ross, known as "Uncle Andrew" by half the kids in town. They claimed he carried peppermints in his pocket for them. I wasn't that favored, for I got a scolding for stepping on his lawn while Mama was visiting him on his porch. Sometimes I peeped through a knothole in the buggy shed and could see the surrey, the harnesses, the chickens and other barnyard animals.
Twice or three times married and divorced, he was catered to by his relatives. In old age, he hired James and "Pet" (Mary Jane Smith) Shaw to care for him, and left them his home. Brother Shaw was crippled by a stroke before he died.
I was told by my father-in-law that in early days he had ridden with "Uncle Andrew" to Salt Lake. They stopped at Andrew's former wife's home while Andrew went in and had a piece of pie. The other passengers waited in the buggy.
The wife we knew most about was "Aunt Nora" (Anderson, a sister of Annie Ross). One of the anecdotes of the town was of one of Nora's entertainments. While Andrew was absent once, Nora had a "hen party." Before the women ate they were told to go upstairs and slide down the banister. Unbeknown to any of them Nora's brother had come from Kimberley that day and was in a room upstairs. As the last woman straddled the banister, Al, in Nora's night shirt and Andrew's night cap, was right behind her. The women screamed and Aunt Zole went right over the top of the dinner table.
Across the street east of Andrew's place was where Brog and Arletta (Carter) Hopkins lived. We used to use Mr. Hopkins' name for a call in the game Run Sheep, "Brognard Delecroy Weber Webber Hopkins." Parley was the last of the Hopkins brood at home, but the others lived in town with their families: Leroy married to Flora Ross, "Flo", was our Sunday School superintendent and we loved him. Clair was their son. Mary Ann was married to James Ross and I remember their children Delecroy and Gwen who was my age. Ida, Ab (married to Edna Brown), Tom (married to Cecelia Lopt), Charles and Parley. I think many of them moved to Delta. Grace Hopkins took me and Macel to her grandma's place and we were given a "piece." It was so unusual to us that we took it home to Mama - it was bread and lard.
Walt and "Mindy" (Arminda Carter) Hyatt lived in a big frame house across the street east from Roberts' Store. Aunt Ett Wells told of their getting together-Walt was her brother. In the early days of Joseph, Mindy and a group of friends went to the gypsy camp to have their fortunes told. Mindy was told, "You will marry a tall dark man." "Oh, you are mistaken. I'm engaged to a light complexioned man." The gypsy told her, "There he is now, going by on that wagon." But Walt Hyatt was a stranger in town. Sure enough, they were married and had children Effa (Morrey), Lizzie (Christensen), Robert, Will, Walter and Jim.
My second grade teacher, Mabel Lubeck, boarded at Hyatts. Mother and Dad were there to a party where they played parlor games, one being "Doctor and Patient." Sam Henry, a ranger who lived with his family in the Sid Carter home, was the patient. He chuckled at how adept he squirted water through his teeth hitting Miss Lubeck's pincher glasses squarely. He had a second laugh when he saw the dainty soot marks Miss Lubeck had drawn over his face and forehead.
Robert and Elnora Ross moved into the Hopkins home. I was often there with Ila. I was amused to see Bob, Elnora and Salina Miller rocking and visiting on the porch. Bob and Salina, one sitting on each side of Elnora, hadn't spoken to each other for years. The conversation went like this, "Elnora, Tell Salina _______.""Elnora, tell Bob _______.”
On the lot where Delwin Owens later built there was a little log house. Sim Peterson's parents, John and Mary (Crabtree) lived there. I don't know who the children Otto and Robinson were-maybe it was her children by second marriage. Otto was my age.
On the south end of the block was where Uncle Henry and Aunt Effa Morrey lived.
Ed Ross, a native Joseph man, son of John Ross and Sarah Wells, married Matilda Bell of Elsinore and they came to Joseph to operate the Cash Store. They built a new home across the street south of Andrew Ross' place. Their children were Mark, Barbara and Beth. After Ed died, Mrs. Ross had several of her relatives help her, the Bells, Johnsons, etc. She and Mother worked in the Stake Relief Society together and had many experiences going to meetings, pushing cars, fixing flat tires and such things.
Lydia (Carter) Wells was a widow when I first remember her. She was a lovely person, and had Ruby (Baker), Elva (Smith), Ernest (Who married Marion Naser) and Robert at home. Robert later married Beth Wilkinson, a teacher, and continued living in the home with his family of James, Rula Jane (Spencer), Gerald and Anna Beth. Ethel (Thurber) lived in Richfield.
The Joseph Cash Store, next door, held many memories for us. It burned the night Alice and DeWitt were being entertained at a wedding reception in January, 1925.
The little home south of the store was where "Aunt Zole" and Bill Shelton lived with their daughter Florence (Burns). Aunt Zole was a sister of "Lyde" Gilbert, daughters of Mr. and Mrs. Farnsworth, who came to Joseph to practice the United Order, so their memory ran back to the earliest settlement. Aunt Zole was a very active person with a finger in every pie. She ran an ice cream parlor on special days, making the confection herself. She said of Bill, "He likes to fiddle so well that he gets up and fiddles in his drawers."
That little house seemed to change hands several times. I recall Arch and Beulah (Rovinson) Hicks living there. Some of their family were Laveen (Orrock) and Bobby.
Across the street south was an early home of Bill and Etta Wells. I remember going there when the house was empty and seeing a strange contraption on the wall. One of my friends knew how to use it and I heard voices coming out of it. It was a very primitive telephone; I think the first one I had ever noticed.
"Parl" and Grace (Leavitt) Carter lived and reared their family in that house. Their children were Lyman, Aileen (Fry), Laura (Dorious), Maurine, Garth (who died in World War II), Jim. Grace, well into her 90's, is still living in Salt Lake City. Parl had a service station in front of his place where we got gasoline from an old fashioned pump for 25 cents a gallon, if we had the money.
Orange T. and Minerva (Hadden) Baker had a home near the south end of the block across the street east. It burned and they built a rock "hotel" on the north end of the block. Each of them had been married before so I'm not sure which child belonged to which, or to both. Most of them were married and living in town, or away, when I knew about them. The 1900 census listed Lois, Joseph, Elthea (Denton), Stephen, Lula (Dickensen), Orange and George. Lois (Hastings) lived in town. "Steve" married Ruby Wells and lived in Sevier and Kimberly before they built on the lot of the house destroyed by fire. Verle (Young) was their only child. Joe was a bachelor in the army in Hawaii when Minerva, his youngest sister, hired me, a fourth grader to write letters to him. (I was never sure how I should end-"With love, Revo", or "With love, Minerva." She took me to the hotel which smelled of beef steak, to get pay of 10 cents, and amazed me by reaching into the sugar bowl for it.) When Joe came home he said to my unpopular cousin, "let's get married." She said, "Good lord, Joe, who'd have us?" Each married someone else later.
Orange married an English girl, Clara (Fearnley), and was the father of Ivy Baker Priest who was Treasurer of the United States from 1953 to 1961. John married DeEsta Bills who said of our family, "They are a pack of giggling fools." I don't know how she could think that, do you? Then there was McKinley who married Vera Bell.
Andrew and Ann (Gay) Bohn had the last home before the highway turned west over the State Canal. It was a red frame house, the home of Vilate, Gay, Evelyn and Afton, about the best-dressed kids in town. Ann was an excellent housekeeper. We kids used to play outside when we went there, for the home was kept so ***** and span. We went to the swimming hole south through the lot, and we watched for the June apples to get ripe in Bohn's orchard. It was on one of those swimming parties that Evelyn took me to see an elderly neighbor, Martha Carter. She may have given us a piece of bread and butter. I just remember how swept her dooryard was. (No one had cement walks.)
We lived east of Joseph Main Street on what might be called First East. (There were only two streets east of Main, and one west)
We didn't like to pass Jim and "Neve" (Geneva Carter) Carter's place going to and from school so we kept to the east side of the street past Ab and Edna (Brown) Hopkins'. The Peterson kids: Leonard, Milton, Leah, Hazel and others threatened us and called us names. Mama told us "Sticks and stones may break your bones, but names will never hurt us." They moved away and Hakan and Mildred Ross were good neighbors. Hakan was an excellent farmer and Mildred (Prisby) minded her own business. They had Ruth, Mary, Jack, Stiner and _______.
We passed the house occupied by Bryant and Ader Parker, which James and Maryann Ross lived in for a while. Their children were Gwen, Delecroy and others. They moved to Delta. Then I think it was where Sim and Necha Stapley lived.
Across the street west, and south across the street from the school was where Sid and "Sis" (Lucinda Ross) Carter lived. I don't remember who took me there, but I was interested in seeing the trap door up. A ladder led down to the cellar (where it was said "Uncle Sid" hid away from the U. S. marshals during the days of polygamy.) We children liked to pass the blacksmith shop Sid had out in the street. We could see the anvil, fire and bellows. There were usually horses to be shod, and men waiting turns for service.
After Ab and Edna Hopkins moved to Richfield, Daniel and Hattie (Utley Stewart) Ross moved in. Each had lost a companion, so this was a mixed family. His children were Angie (Buchanan) living in Gunnison, Ruby (Mills), Clarence (His wife Anna Mae taught school), Rollo, Alta, Thora, Culbert and Grant. "Aunt Hat's" were LaVirl and Randall. Thora and Randall were in my class at school. Aunt Hat told a story that amused us. She had a crippled arm, so it was with great effort that she salted down a barrel of cucumbers to make pickles. She went away for a visit. One day Daniel saw Ezbon Jackman passing and called, "Come see these cucumbers; I think they are spoiling. They have a skum all over the top." Ezbon agreed, "Most assuredly," and was helpful in pouring off the brine and replacing it with fresh water. Aunt Hat was mad as a hornet about it. They were all spoiled.
With Regena I went to see her grandparents, Al and Mary A. (Dorrity) Gay in their adobe home. I was awed by the large fireplace used to heat the room, and I supposed to cook. Florence, their granddaughter lived with them. Every¬one loved Florence and her cousin, Irene Miller, beautiful, jolly girls. I saw them at Sunday school wearing beautiful large hats with ostrich feather plumes and hoped I would have one like them when I grew up. Brother and Sister Gay had crossed the plains in the same company as my Grandmother Morrey and her parents, the Sheffields.
Salina (Gay) Miller, lived a block north of her parents. She had lost her husband in the Schofield mine disaster. Her daughter Ora Allen lived in town. Irene married "Bill" Sawyer and they had a family: Maxine, Barbara, Garth, etc. Perry also lived in town for a while after marrying.
Along that street, at different times, lived the Mills, Borens, Robinsons, Gilberts.
There were several Mills brothers came to town about the same time as Will did: Charles, L.V. and Earl. Charles' wife was Pearl (Smith). Their children were Chloe (McCord), Eugene, Uella (Merchant), Estella (Higgins Johnson), Golda (Balch). Charles was a joker. He said "Weel, I guess I'd better get along home. Pearl cooked enough for four and there’s seven of us to eat it." At school we tormented Chloe who wasn't talking plainly. "What's your name?" "Toe Nils." "Toe Nails?" "No,Toe Nils."
L. V. soon moved away, but his children all had "L" names: Lena, Lizzie, Letha, Laura, Leslie, etc.
Earl Mills' wife was Rose Hampton. They bought Walt Hyatt's home. Their children were Grace (Nelson), Geneva (Warenski), Theron (married Nola Gleave), Ivan. My little brother Harold loved Earl because he was so good to him, when Harold's father was dead.
"Lyde" (Eliza Farnsworth) Gilbert was a widow who lived in a large white rock house. She was a good friend of our mother and they corresponded for years after the Gilberts moved to Arcadia in Duchesne County. Aunt Lyde had a family of Mittie (married to my cousin Jim Moore), Leandrew (Jr.) married to "Rilla" Ross, Martha, Tom, John, Melna and Alta.
We thought the Robinsons, "Zeke and Daisy" (George and Mabel Collmoun) resented the names people called them. George drove the school bus and put a governor on to keep the mileage under 25, so he could talk more, I think. We called him "Beans and Broomcorn" because that was the subject of his talk. Their strange ways made us think they were "outlandish." Mama visited them to offer consolation for the death of one of the children. George mourned, "That was the best kid we had. I'd rather it had been Viney, or Clarence, or Lucile.” The youngest child, sitting in the high chair, moping with measles, threatened, "I'm going to the funeral or bust a gut."
Jane Shipp was passing on the street and heard Mabel quarreling and then Viney came hurling out the door backward.
Mabel was ill for some time and the women in the town went to assist. She was in a miserable condition so they bought sheets and made her more comfortable. When she died the women went again. Lucile said, "By ____, I'm having them sheets on my bed."
The undertaker brought a portable rack and prepared the body in the home. The kids found it to be such a novelty that they pushed it abound for a cart. One wanted to know if it would hurt his mother if he cut her toe off. We thought it appropriate to sing, "Life's battles are over," and "There's sweet rest in heaven."
George was courting again in three weeks. Our Vera said, "Eldon, I hope you'll let me get cold before you hunt another wife.” Eldon told her, "You'll be as cold in three days as you'll ever get."
Mabel Robinson's parents, the Collmouns, lived in a shack above the canal and I think some Benge children lived with them. Mrs. Collmoun died and Mother was there when she was being buried. She looked clean and lovely as her husband prepared the last rites. He mumbled something and tossed her trinkets and jewelry over her. We wondered if they were gypsies.
Somewhere along "First East" lived the Borens, who came from Panguich. Their tall, skinny son we nick-named "Ichabod Crane." Kenneth, about my age, did not grow, was deformed and on crutches. He didn't live long. Then I think there was a little girl named "Neta" Boren. I don't know where they went when they left Joseph.
The family of Cliff and Mary Jane (Carter-daughter of Sid and Lucinda) Shipp lived in a big white rock house (on Second East). I went there when I was small to gather Sunday eggs for the Relief Society. Their home was warm and cheery. As the years passed I was associated with Phil and Inez. Other members of the family were Edna (Mrs. Ira Jensen of Redmond), Sid and Cliff, usually working away from home, Charley and Mary (Mrs. Harvey Jensen of Salt Lake City). Mr. Shipp died quite young, but we remember him as postmaster when the post office was across the street south of the school.
George and Lucy (Bradbury) Warenski had a neat little log house across the street south from Shipps. Of their family, Della married our cousin Evan Charlesworth, Leda (Bredsgard) lived in Monroe, and Owen married Meta Owens. We thought Owen was a "spoiled brat" when he held us girls in a privy by throwing rocks. After George died Lucy married Harry Baierline and moved up town and kept the post office for many years.
No one else lived on that street until at the intersection of the county road leading to Monroe. Juliette (DeGraw) and her sons Ernest and Alva lived there. I think they had lived in Colonia Juarez, but came to Joseph from Panguich. They were quiet folk. Arnfred Christensen laughed at an incident concerning them. My father was putting hay into the barn, each time signaling with a loud "All right" when the teamster should move out to lift the hay fork. Ern was at his place, calling, "Alvie!" and Papa would echo "All right!" After several repetitions, Ern in disgust, yelled, "Oh, shut up, you darned fool!"
East of Hampton's was another house, occupied at various times by different people, among them Andrew and Dora Ross, Francis Jackman and family and "Tell" and Minerva Johnson Sylvester. Although I was not a participant, an occasion barely missed me. (Regena Gay and I were at her home watching for a signal to join our crowd down by the river for a "chicken wake." It seems that our crowd of girls separated to gather up the ingredients. The first group to come raided the Sylvester's chicken coop. The second group did likewise, alerting Minerva and Tell. The fire was built and the chickens nearly skinned when the Sylvesters, still in nightclothes appeared on the scene. Virginia Joos threw the evidence in the river.
There were fewer homes on the west part of town. Two large brick houses belonged to Parkers and to John Dunn. I didn't remember John's first wife who was divorced, but his second wife was Effie. Like the other Dunns, John had his own vocabulary. In court he was asked about the property, if it had any encumbrances. He replied "Just a pig pen and an old chicken coop." Once in a funeral procession our high-powered car sputtered and jerked. John rode up beside it and yelled, "Thrower inner mejan, John, thrower inner mejan."
Ed and Charl (Charlotte Crabtree) Warenski lived on "First West", one of the few families on that street. Some of their children were Bertha (Henderson), Charlie, Bert and Ralph. Ed, like many other men, spent too much time at the pool hall. One day when he came home for dinner he was served raw meat and an ax.
I don't know where Dora Carter lived. She was the mother of Parlan and Dennis, Walter and Ruby. Walter was deaf but he could make enough sounds to partly be understood. Ruby was a big girl, still wearing her shoes of the wrong feet. Lula, some relation, was blind and used to come for vacation and play the piano beautifully. I think she may have been at the blind school.
Not permanent residents, never the less, the school teacher families were such a part of the community that they figure in its history. Besides Arnfred Christensen and Francis Jackman, there were many others. About 1915 the Harwoods from California were favorites. They were Methodists and were also photographers, which made them curiosities. Vincent Bradley from Sanpete County, married to Reta Hansen from Elsinore, was my seventh and eighth grade teacher. Golden and Thelma (Shaw) Buchanan from Venice were popular with the young married crowd, as were Everett and Manita (Peterson) Hansen from Monroe and Richfield. Each couple had one, two or three children.
We spoke of the people who lived west of the State Canal as being "above the canal."
Uncle Joe and Aunt "Meedy" (Almeda Harmon) Moore (Joseph Moore was step-cousing to John Ferney Morrey, Revo’s father) lived in two houses set one in front of the other. I think the front one was of sawed logs and the other was log. Uncle Joe was tall and angular, Aunt Meedy short and plump. She wore her hair in a knot on top of her head. I remember her as being a soft-spoken, contented lady, sitting rocking and crocheting in the living room while the big girls did the work and played toe organ. The big girls at home, when I first remember, were Hattie, Killarnia, Eva and Elma. There had been twelve children; most of them married now and in homes of their own. Eliza was our Aunt “Lizy" as she had married Mama's brother, Uncle Walter Rawlinson. Emily was Mrs. Alma Christensen and they moved to Clear Creek Canyon. Clarissa was Mrs. Will Hyatt, Fern was Mrs. Herman Lott, and Jim was married to Mittie Gilbert. Aunt Meedy's mother, Eliza, lived with them until she died and then Mr. Harmon, her father was with them until he died.
Next south was the home of John and Hester (Brown) Robinson. I don't remember them except a daughter Bessie. I don't know if they lived in the house later occupied by the Cracraft family-Charley and Susie (Hoops) and family; Frank, Garn, Polly, Ila, Hazel and Thad. Charlie and Susie were "off again, on again" and Charlie said "We haven't had a temple divorce."
There were several families related to the Browns, who I think, were southern folk. I'm not sure where Archie and Bertha (Nelson) lived before they moved to the Bob Ross farm. They had David, Arden, Evelyn and Myrtle. Myrtle and Grant had a feud at school and one day were seen daring each other to come around the corners of the school house. Each was supplied with rocks to throw.
Al and Almira (Howd) Johnson and son Bill (William) and daughter Minerva (Sylvester) lived along the main road above the canal. Mr. Johnson was the church and school janitor. Bill worked for years for Papa at $30 per month and boarded at home. He left and went to World War I. The Johnsons had another daughter Eva (Mrs. Harry Hall). Ernestine was their daughter that I recall, & Larue.
“Doc Pliney” and Day Brandbury were formerly from Kanosh and then lived at Bradbury Ranch in Clear Creek Canyon. Mother had a connection with them also, for the Days had come from South Africa where Grandpa Rawlinson was born. Doris, unmarried, lived with them. After their daughter Mary lost her husband, Walt Hyatt, she lived with them, and continued to live there after her parents passed away. Mary had children, Reed, Archie, Jeanette (Utley) and Dan.
I went to Jeff and Nanny (Gilbert) Carter's home with the twins, Mabel and Mazel. I was introduced to the oija board there. I looked at the Sears catalogue with the twins and we decided on muffs and furs for Christmas. Somehow Santa did not get the message. Big sisters of the twins, LaPriel and Maryann were the big girls I remembered at school when I was small. Byron was Eldon's friend and I remember they came to our home one Sunday and taught us how to make "Snow ice cream" by mixing snow, separated cream, sugar and vanilla. Icy was Macel's friend and Gilbert was Vetris’ age. They moved to Delta.
Jeff Carter, though a mature man, did immature tricks just for amusement. Sometimes they weren't funny.
Father and Eldon were trying to break a horse to work. They had him teamed with an older horse on a wood rack. Ace was sitting on the back of the wagon having a leisurely smoke. Jeff came along on his motorcycle and just as he got even with them he made the motor backfire with a loud bang. The horses gave a jump and lit into a run up the graveled road. The startled men were unable to control them and Ace was bounced around like a rubber ball. The wagon missed the bridge on the canal. With a jerk the wagon came uncoupled. Poor Ace was thrown into the rock-strewn ditch. The horses rode away and continued running until someone headed them toward home.
Jeff had a hearty laugh at their plight.
The reputation Jeff had for mischief made us think that it too bad Will Dunn didn't accomplish his childhood errand. Jeff was sick and his mother knew what ailed him. She told Will, "go fetch me some nanny berries to make some tea to bring out the measles on Jeff.” Will came back and said, "I can't find any berries." Peggy Ann said, "They're sheep terd, you little fool."
The Leavitt "boys" had homes further along the road. Ether and Vera (Utley) had a young family of; Chad, Dean, Vivian, Barbara and others. Lloyd was married to Jennie Fawn Sylvester, who died young leaving a young family. He later married Barney.
"Jim" and Hulda (Parker) Leavitt lived at the bend of the road and under the canal. Their children still at home were Paul, Lasca (Anderson) and Frank. Paul and his cousin Clayton Parker ran away from home and joined the army in World War I. I don't know Paul's experience, but Clayton was in the battle at Argone Forest. Lasca was a friend of Alice and often slept in our home when it was too late at night to walk home in the dark.
Walter and Martha (Mormon) Brown lived across the road west from Leavitts. They were good faithful people. They had hearts of gold and adopted three orphan brothers, Carl, Clifford and Ralph Nelson. Carl died of appendicitis; the other two lived to marry, but died young. Ralph and his wife (Grace Mills) built a new home in town and operated a store in Joseph.
Farther up the dirt road and near the railroad crossing was where "Brig" and Pansy (Brown) Darger lived, making a living by raising fruit - Gaino and Jonathan apples. The children of the family were Velora, Ivan, David, Eldren (my age), Erma and Valden. I don't know if the man we called "Old Man Brown" was Pansy's father. It was rumored that Andrew Ross brought him from Tennessee to run a "still" for him; who knows?
Quite often families moved to Joseph, made their imprint, and moved on. Occasionally a member of the family married into the more established families. Some we heard about from earlier times were Murdocks, Cooleys, Newbys, Carters, Billingsly's, Fred Lott, Farnsworths, Haights, John Ross, Grahams, Giffords. More recent ones were Robert Penny, his wife Clara (Goulding) and her relatives William Goulding, Amplus Goulding; Hessie Joos with family Margaret, Minerva, Grace (Owens), Belva, Bobby, Easton; "Bill” Sawyer (married Irene Miller); Herbert Allen (married Ora Miller); Perry Miller and family Dennis Carter, Abe Roberts, Joe Roberts, and others. Lafayette Hampton, Alexander Shaw, Martin Merritt.
If I have left anyone out of this narrative and you remember them you may visit them at the Joseph Cemetery above town. That's where our neighbors from the Cove (Sevier) may also be found...