The Life History of Karl Pace Mathis 1896-1982
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The Life History of Karl Pace Mathis
I, Karl Pace Mathis, was born February 28, 1896, in New Harmony, Washington County, Utah. My mother was Ann Louise Pace and my father, George Henry Mathis. I was the fifth child the family included three sisters: Hazel, Marguerete and Little Elda, and one brother, George. All five children lived to adulthood except little Elda who was born July 10, 1892, In New Harmony, Washington County, Utah. She was a “Blue Baby” with a congenital heart condition, and she died July 26, 1892.
When I was 15 months old, my father died. He died a terrible death from cancer and prayed daily that he would never see the sun rise again. His fingernails and toenails all fell out from the disease. It was a very sad thing for a family of little children to experience.
I remember, as a little child, going through the fence and down to my Aunt Peggy’s for baked squash. I also remember, as a little boy, riding behind my brother George on a horse through tall grass down to check a figure four trap which had been set to catch quail. Riding with George and checking the traps made me feel important and grown up. I remember we used to have a lot of snow, and as soon as the snow melted on the hill by our home, it was covered with little while flowers. I still think of those flowers every time I go by that hill. We had a cured cow hide for a sleigh, and would sit on it and hold on to the tail of a horse and ride it like a sleigh, falling off, and playing in the snow. That was real fun for me.
I had a childhood sweetheart, a cousin by the name of Mildred Pace. I also had a good boy friend, Antone Prince. The friendship lasted throughout our lives. After I left New Harmony, I went 30 years without seeing him, and then he came to visit me. He died not too long ago and was a sheriff in Dixie at the time of his death.
We had one of the best homes in New Harmony. My father delivered mail to the Silver Reef Mines for years. We had a nice herd of cattle when my father died, and the family was pretty well off financially for that period of time. My mother married again when I was about four years old. She married Francis Green Taylor. Beatrice was born in that marriage in New Harmony. Two year later, when I was 6 years olf, we moved to Loa, Utah. We children drove the cattle and my mother drove a team and wagon.
When we got to Loa, we bought two old log hits with dirt roofs on them, and lived in both of them. They were located where Fred and Lola Brown’s home is now in Loa. The huts were about two rods apart and we used one of them for bedrooms and the other one for the kitchen and living room. The entire family slept in one room.
My stepfather was a good man when he was sober, but he had an alcohol problem. We had 40 acres of land south of Lyman and had to haul all of our equipment from Loa to work the land. This distance of three miles was a long way to have to haul the farm machinery with a team and wagon.
In Loa at that time there were two saloons and my stepfather spent a lot of time in them. About every month he would take a few of our cattle to pay off the bills he owed in the saloon. He was mean to my mother when he was drink, and the children would all get upset when this would happen. I remember in the cold winter he would run a team of horses up and down the streets until they would be white with seat and lather. This would upset my mother, and she would have nervous chills until it would about kill her. It was hard on our family.
I had to milk cows, and would take my lunch everyday and watch the cows. The only time I remember my stepfather spanking me was for sassing my mother, but I supposed I needed it.
The first paying job for money I ever had was for Alfonza Grundy, who was blind in one eye. I can’t remember how old I was, but I made 25 cents a day and worked all summer. He had to make a bar on his machinery for my feet so that I could rest them, as I was so little. Our time we were hauling manure on the garden, and I lost my pitchfork. As I got off the wagon to get it , Mr. Grundy, because he was blind in one eye, hit me with a fresh pile of manure. He said, “Whoops Karlie, you shouldn’t get on the blind side.” After that, I was nicknamed Grundy and for years after I quit working for him people still called me that. To this very day some older people still call me Grundy. After I got paid from Mr. Grundy, I went to the store and bought a pair of gloves with fringe on them for 50 cents. When I got home, so proud of my new gloves, my mother told me I would have to take them back as we couldn’t afford them. I sure was sad, but did as I was told. I have always liked gloves and bought gloves for my daughters as they grew up- probably because of this experience.
Everyone was poor in those days and we were also very poor, but we had plenty to eat. We had milk cows, pigs, chickens, as well as raised a garden. My mother always fed us good and had our table well spread. This was probably because of the industrious family I came from. My mother had another child in Loa. His name was Francis Preston Taylor, and he was the youngest for the second family.
Eventually, my stepfather sold all of our cows to pay debts at the saloons. My mother took the family and we went up to Seven-Mile to the Russell Dairy. I was old enough to milk cows, but Beatrice and Preston we too little so that had to tend the cows and herd them. I remember asking a lady by the name of Mary Potter, who worked at the dairy, how much she got for working and she said, “ $1.50 per week,” we milked the 60 cows and hauled the cream to Salina, Utah in a buckboard wagon. We made cheese and would sell it in the fall. We lived in three log hits while we were up there. It was beautiful in the summer. We had lovely spring water.
I went fishing everyday and loved to fish, and I kept our family in fish to eat. As the roofs on our house were dirt, we planted radishes on top of the roof so we could eat them early. I would do my milking and then go and fish. When people started to come up there to fish, there was one man named Crawford from Salt Lake City who couldn’t catch any fish, so he would buy them from me and then tell people he caught them. I sure thought that was fun. When he went home, he sent me the first fishing pole I ever had. Up to that time, I had always fished with a willow so having a pole was a real treat for me. I didn’t have any rubber boots in those days, but when the fish would spawn in the spring; I would take an old worn out shoes and roll up my pants and wade out in the water and catch the fish with a pitchfork. We would have so many fish we would salt them down in a jar and save them for people who would come from town and then give them the fish. We had lots of fish, and I have loved to fish my whole life.
To make cheese at the dairy we had a big vat, which we would build a fire under to make it hot so that the milk would curdle. Next, we would press plates on the curdled milk so that we could dip the whey out and then cut the curds and make the cheese. We would sew cheesecloth on the cheese and put in on big shelves. We had to turn the cheese everyday while it cured. We also rubbed something on it, I can’t remember what it was, but it sure made good cheese.
We used to go to Fish Lake and pick wild raspberries and strawberries and bring them back and have good thick cream on them. We also broke horses to ride up there. My brother, George, was a real good at breaking horses and would break them for different individuals every year. Id’ get on a horse and snub them, and my brother would break them down.
We had pigs up at Seven-Mile and we fed them the whey form the cheese and let them run in the pastures. When we got ready to go the last year, I drove 75 head of pigs from Seven- Mile to Loa, and it was hard. I got along pretty good until I got past the creek, and they got tender footed. Their feet really hurt, and when they would see me coming they would squeal. I finally got them there, but I think that was the longest drive pigs were ever on. Some people say I couldn’t haven driven them that far, but I really did.
We had left our stepfather home on the job, and while we were up there, he took the wagon and team of horses and bedding and other things, which I can’t remember and took off. We never saw him again for 27 years. When we came home that fall, we didn’t even have a team of horses, which was an important item in these days. My mother finally divorced Francis Taylor. Uncle Jim and John Mathis from Price, Utah gave us a team and George, my brother, had to go on horse back from Loa and pick up the team they gave us. I think George was 16 or 17 and I was about 12.
In 7th grade, before graduation in the spring, I had to quit school and go to work to haul manure. We were down to nothing and times were hard, and I had to quit school to help us earn our living, We still had our 40 acres of land, and George and I did the farming. We were very upset to find that our step father had borrowed money against this land. We thought we would lose the land, and it was a worry and lots of trouble. It took us 10 years to get this account settled, but finally we got it all cleared up.
Archie Oldroyd lived in Lyman and was a good man. He knew we were just young boys and trying to farm without any help, and he tried to see that we got our water turns and helped us a lot. One time I went over to borrow some matches to build a fire. He said to me, “ Are you cold?” I said, “No, but Pres is.” Pres was just a little feller over there helping me farm. We did the work with a hand plow and had to walk to do it. When the men came around to thresh they wouldn’t charge us because we raised such a small crop. It was real hard because we didn’t have the machinery and just did what we could with a team and our hands. When our old milk cows would get so old they wouldn’t give us much milk, we would fatten them up and kill them in the winter. This was the only time we could have beef because there was no refrigeration to keep meat in the summer when it was so warm.
My mother bought an old loom and made carpets and rugs, and we, children, would take turns helping her thread the loom. She made a little money from the carpets and rugs. We had four beds in one room, and I remember one night a bat got into our room. We were all on our beds fighting the bat with our pillows.
Hazel, My oldest sister, got married on February 2, 1910 to Jacob Willian Ivie. Right after that, my mother married William Henry Morrell, which was her third husband. Reta, George and I went to live with Hazel and Beatrice and Pres went to live with mother and her new husband.
That summer I went to work up to Seven-Mile for Paul Jensen and that is the first time I really made any money. I was so happy when I got my check. I remember riding home with the check in my hand the whole time because I was so afraid I would lose it.
I was 17 years olf in the summer of 1911 and on June 29th, George married Mary Ann Wilson. I went with them on the train from Salina to Thistle Junction, and I changed trains and went on to Price. They went on the Salt Lake to be married and have a honeymoon. I had never been on a train before, and I was scared and alone and a bit afraid. I got to Price about midnight and everything was closed. I went into a pool hall and told a man I was looking for Jim Mathis, and he took me down to their house. I remember when Aunt Mame came to the door she sad, “ Why this is Henry’s boy,” and I stayed with them until George and Mary had the wedding and honeymoon. They I went on the train again and met them in Thistle and went to live with them from then on. George called his wife “Dimples” but her nickname was “Doll”. After we got back to Loa, we bought an old log house from Tob McClellan and we all slept on the floor. I remember the next morning Doll got up and made toast for breakfast. That was the first time in my life I remember not having hot biscuits for breakfast, and I sure thought that George had been cheated.
The winter before George got married, I hauled water all winter for Tob McClellan and he gave me the first suit of clothes I ever had. Before that time, we had short pants. I worked all winter for that suit of clothes. In the fall after George and Doll were married, they sent to Price to school. Because of my age, I skipped 8th grade and went to High School. It was new for me. I had been out of school for a while, and I was discouraged so I quit school and went home.
We bought eight acres of land from Uncle Dave Blackburn. We gave him $2200.00 for it with water rights. It was over on the bench by Grandpa Enoch Sorenson’s land. We lived there for a few years, and then bought Charlie Okerland’s log home and farm on Main Street across for the bank where Parley Reese lived for years. We moved there and bought a cattle permit in Seven-Mile. We got cattle and permit for $24.00 per head.
Right after that, we bought Amosoi Blackburn’s cattle, 120 head and permit for the same price. We bought and sold cattle all over the country. About this time, Clarence Brown started to work for us and we nicknamed him “Cheese”. George was really good to me, and he was the only father I ever knew. In fact, I think he was too good to me. When I was going to go to the dance, he never handed me a ticket, he handed me the purse. That was the way we worked things. Maybe I would have been different if I would have had a dad and if George wouldn’t have been so good to me.
About this time, George and Doll hired Clieve Sorenson to come and work for them. Doll said that Clieve had the prettiest legs of anyone she had ever seen and was the best dishwasher. ( It has been part of the stories told in our family that Clieve would come up and down the road and sing until Karl would come our and see her.)
We bought 1,000 head of cattle in Escalante and drove them to Marysvale and put them on cars in which they rode to Colorado, where we sold them to a big ranch. I went with the catlte and stayed in Colorado and worked for that ranch. They had a big operation, a big cook wagon and 30 to 40 saddle horses. They had eight to ten cow punchers that worked for them steady. Owens and Adams Cattle Company was the name of the outfit, and they had a 21 year- old daughter that really wanted me. I worked there for one summer . Afer the summer I was 21 years old and I came back home. I helped Leo Bowns gather cattle off of the Henry Mountains and we took them to Book Cliffs over by Green River. When I got to Green River, I had a call to go to the army, so I had to get on the train and head back home to Loa so I could go in the army. Clieve was my sweetheart, and she went to Rickfield with me to catch the train and see me off.
I began my service in World War I on August 29, 1918. I went to Fort Louis, Washington and was there for 5 months. As the War ended, they released me as soon as they could because I had cattle and a farm. Alfred Nelson came hom to run his farm also. When I got home I told everyone I was a pilot in the army. I really worked in the stables, and I piled it here and I piled it there. This has been a joke throughout my life. I was released from the War January 29, 1919. I was home 14 months, and I got married to Clieve Sorenson. Brigham C. Young married us.
We got married April 16, 1920. George and Doll went with us to Salt Lake City to get married. We left by train from Rickfield and went to SLC. We got married in the City and County Building. George and Doll stayed up there to celebrate, but we felt like we didn’t have the money for that so we came home to get to work. We held our wedding dance with Harold and Loa Johanson. The Koosharem orchestra played, but since there was al blizzard that night, the local people gave them beds to say in Loa as they couldn’t make it home to Koosharem.
We didn’t have any money and needed a jog so we were going to work for Paul Jensen in Koorsharem, so I went to Richfield and got Paul’s Ford car and came around by Kingston and around up to Box Creek. We had to leave the car on the highway because the snow was so deep. We walked about ½ mile to an old have that hadn’t been lived in for several years. Hans Olyer brought the stove, given to use by mother, and other things that were given to us in a shower in Loa. We didn’t have much and slept on the floor that night. We bought some things in Richfield for our house, which were brought to us on a wagon. We had a team and buggy and that was our transportation. When we went to Koorsharem to church and to shop, it was in the buggy.
We fixed the old house all up and put high priced wall paper on the walls and high priced linoleum on the floors. I built Clieve a real nice wash basin to wash our hands in, the only thing is it would tip over every time you touched it. We stayed there all summer and ran the farm. Clieve got homesick a few times, and I had to take her home occasionally. Her folks came over a few times to visit her.
My mother and Clieve’s mother and father wanted us to go to the temple and be sealed to their families. So I received a recommendation from Bishop Henry Callahan to be ordained an Elder in the Church, and we went to Manti to the Temple. President Joseph Eckersley ordained me an Elder in the motel and then Clieve and I went to the Temple. I didn’t know what I was doing since I didn’t have much knowledge of the Temple because I hadn’t been very active in the Church.
( Karl and Clieve Mathis were sealed in the Manti Temple on July 1, 1920)
That fall we moved over to Paul Jensen’s ranch southeast of Koosharem and fed cows all winter. Clieve cooked a lot for the workers there. Paul Jensen bought a big herd of beef cattle through Sevier and up as far as Nephi. He bought them for 14 cents a pound and went broke. As a result, he still owes us wages.
That spring, we moved over to Loa and lived where Maude Pace had her home on the east side of town. That was where our first baby was born. That baby was our only son. He died at birth, because he was breech and had the cord wrapped around his neck. Now a days that baby would have been saved, but we didn’t have much help and knowledge about such things in those days. That was a sad time in our lives and as a result of this, Clieve had bad health all her life. The baby was a big healthy baby. Clieve’s mother helped prepare the baby for burial. Times have changed. (This baby was named Hartland K. Mathis )
Not long after that, we bought the place where Luva and Dalton Okerland now live on the west side of Loa. We bought it from Seth Louge. He borrowed the money from Uncle Rube Meeks, Reta’s husband, and had to pay 9% interest. We lived there for a few years and I ran the Carlie Okerland place. George lived on the Fairview Ranch down on the Henry Mountains. Next, we moved to Price to run a butcher shop. I went over there and worked on the road a little while and used Uncle Jim Mathis’ team to make a little money.
I remember once we were going to move to Price and work in the mines. We had the wagon backed up and ready to load, and then we changed our minds and decided not to go.
We sold our home to Dalton and Luva, then we got the old place where George and Doll had when they first got married.
We had a log house there and that site is one block south of our present home in Loa. We later built a home there and sold it to Dolan Brian who lives there at the present. Royal Brinkerhoff was going to sell me his permit right for sheep out on the Boulder Mountain. I went to see Mr. Neff to see if I could have some sheep on lease and that is when he wanted to go into a partnership with me. I took care of the sheep and then we bought John R. Stewart’s sheep and permit and we had two summer herds about 1500 lamb and eves. I bought half of the herd. I made $90.00 a month and paid for my part of the herd. I sent the other half of money to Clieve to live on. Clieve lived in Loa. We had our little baby daughter, Donna, and when I would come home with the pack mules Donna wanted to be with me so badly I would hold he while I would unpack the mules and my things. I was gone most of the time for 5 years and drew steady wages. I got my part of the sheep paid for and decided to buy a farm and quit herding sheep.
I bought that Willis Oldroyd home in Lyman and 80 acres of land. Frank Neff owned it them. I got a team and wagon and was going to move to Lyman to run that place. President Oldroyd met me out in the road and wanted to buy this place from me. I have been having a hard time trying to decide if I should buy this place in Lyman or half of Horse Valley. So I decided to sell the place to Willis Oldroyd, and he gave me $500.00 for it. I went with the team up to Horse Valley to buy half of it and that night they called me on a mission. I had a hard time deciding if I should go on a mission or not. I finally decided to go and I went in the Depression of the 1930’s and came back in 1932. While I was on the mission, Mr. Neff went broke and lost my sheep with his.
(Due to Constance Mathis’ birth on February 26, 1931, it is believed that the dates given in this history that Karl Served in the mission field are incorrect)
When I was a deacon, I was the president of the Deacon’s Quorum. I remember gathering fast offerings. We would take a sack and the people would give us a few cups of flour or a chicken or some butter for the fast offerings. We went in a buggy. The bishop would take what we got to needy people. Sometimes we would have to run down a live chicken and get it for the fast offerings.
After this I never went to church because my work was out in the hills and I just never was around and didn’t attend church. This was the way it was until I was called on my mission. Will Ivie was the bishop, Rex Brian the counselor, and Fred Webster was the Stake President. He told the bishop if they didn’t call me for a mission he would go over their heads and call me. I had such a hard time deciding whether or not to go on that mission. The reason I decided to accept this position at the hard time in my life was because my mother had always made me realize that when people were in authority they were inspired by the Lord to call people to positions. I felt they were inspired and the Lord really wanted me to fill this mission, and so I decided to go. I went to Salt Lake City and was interview by J. Golden Kimball for my mission. He couldn’t understand whey they called me on a mission because I chewed tobacco. He asked me I had quit and I said, “Yes.” When he asked when, I said, “yesterday.” He asked if was going to stay quit and I said yes, and I did. I never went to the farewell party they gave me in Loa. I think they collected $85.00 for me to go on the mission, but I didn’t dare give a talk before I left. They said it’s okay, it will be better and easier for you when you are in the mission field. So the first night I got to Omaha, Nebraska I was asked to talk on a street corner. I can’t tell you what I said. I didn’t remember a thing, but the other missionaries said that I called the people on the street brothers and sisters. I was alway afraid that I would actually tract out a family that were members of the Church and they would find out how little I knew about the Church. I would knock on doors of homes and when the people would ask me a questions I would say, “ I don’t know the answer, but I will be back tomorrow with the answer for you.” Then I would go to our home and study and learn the answers and try to convert myself so that I could convert the people. Then I would take my answers back to the people and discuss things with them. I loved to tract and meet people and tell them about the Gospel. I began to know it was true, and I never had to tell them not to believe anything they had learned and loved from the Bible, just to add to it. I encouraged them to love and live it and become a Latter- Day Saint. I always wanted Clieve to come to the mission and meet the missionaries and looked forward to meeting her and having her here, but she just couldn’t come. She went to Pueblo, Colorado with her sister Wanda who had married Link Haycock and waited for me there. When I got there, Wanda and Link took us home in their car.
When I got home and found what condition our sheep were in, I had a lot of heated arguments with Frank Neff about the sheep, and I went to the bank in Slaina to Mr. Crandell and tried to work out a solution to our problems. He wanted to turn things over to me because I was younger, but Mr. Neff wouldn’t. Finally, we worked out a deal and I went back to herding sheep again. My mission cost $2,300.00 and I paid for every cent of it myself with the help of my wife, Clieve. Clieve worked very hard while I was gone, and I am sure she made sacrifices for this like many women will never know. I am thankful for this call to this mission and the way that it has helped my life. I would encourage my posterity to serve the Lord on missions and they will be strengthened and grateful of the opportunity.
I bought the farm of Heber Blackburn for $2,500.00. I finally got out of the sheep, 500 head, and herded them and ran the farm at the same time. I sheared my sheep and lambed and worked so hard I could hardly crawl out of bed. I finally sold my shearing outfit. This farm I bought from Heber Blackburn was short of water so I drilled a will our of Rodd Creek and make me a nice farm with this water I found.
The first church job after I came home from my mission was the Sunday School Superintendent with Harold Johnson. I was in only a little while when I had to go back and herd the sheep so they released me. I stayed out with the sheep for 7 months without coming home and with I came home Rex Brian called me in the bishopric with him. Then I would have to go back to the herd and they would release me and then when I came home they would put me in again. I was in and out of the bishopric three times with Rex Brian. I kept trying to find a way to get out of my church work, but they just kept calling me to positions. This I was call to be the Bishop eventually.
I remember one day after I had bought the field up by Fremont and we were living in the house we had bought from George and Doll, Clieve was sitting on my lap in a rocking chair and she said, “Let’s build a house.” I said, “Okay,” and so she went over to the wall where we had paper over old overhauls and things and pilled on a loose piece of paper and pilled a whole wall down and then I started to haul logs to build our new house. I had a truck and Preston, my brother, had his team, and we cleared 900 feet of lumber a day each one of us. We were both going to build a house. I moved the house out on the street, and it was a sight. Clieve didn’t want to litter up the place so we had to tear it down, and I took the logs up to my field. We lived in this new home I built for a good part of our married life. Then, in the year of 1942, Donna and Neil were married. I had given them a lot one block north of our home to build them a home on. They started a home and one day Donna came down and told us she wasn’t going to finish the home, and that they were going to move. We took over the house she had started and built us a home. This is the home we live in at this time, and we only had one daughter home, Shanna. Connie was married and living in Cedar City.
I went to Primary with Grant Brown and my teachers were our sisters, Hazel and Grant’s sister, Dell. We really got acting up in Primary and they spanked us so we quit going. However, we were both bishops in the Loa Ward.
We had a big alarm clock in the school room and Jenny Taylor was my teacher. I wanted school to be over so badly that I set the clock forward so that we could go home. I got caught and had to stay in after school and write the Declaration of Independence. My first teacher that I can remember was Mary Forsyth, Jenny Taylor and Bradsel. I remember George went to mutual and sang in mutual and did a lot of fun things.
The first time I ever remember Clieve was when I went down to the McLellan land and I was going to play cards with her dad and Tob McClellan and I met Clieve. I thought she was so cute that I bought her a locket that cost three or four dollars. That was a lot for them days.
I remember once I raised doggie lambs until I had enough to buy a cow and kept it up until I had 40 head of cattle. I would bring those lambs home from the Parker Mountains 10 miles on a horse with their heads sticking our of a gunny sack.
I was called to be a bishop by President Oldroyd and set apart by Elder Joseph F. Smith, February 11, 1945. Clieve said that I came home froma meeting and said, “ Do you know what they have asked me to do?’ and she said, “No.” I said , “ They called me to be the Bishop.” So together, Clieve and I prayed to find counselors. We felt inspired to ask Fred brown and Bill Potter. It proved to be a real inspoiration when we had our first meeting in the basement of the Loa church. There were curtains between the classrooms and we decided at this first meeting we were going to build a new building. I truly felt like it was through inspiration that we were called at this time. Fred Brown was a carpenter and Bill Potter hauled logs. We went to Salt Lake and met with brother LeGrande Richards and Bishop Worthing to the architects going on the building. It was a policy in the Church that you had to have 55% of the money before you could start to build a building. We really talked, and convinced those authorities that we could start the building and build it without having the money. We finally talked them into it, and we did it without ever being in debt. Don’t ask me how. I was Bishop for seven years and it took this entire time to build the building. I had such good crops from my farm. It seemed like if I was doing the Lord’s work, he was taking good care of things for me.
We built a lovely new bishop’s office and never held a meeting in it. The presiding authority, Brother Romney, came to the dedication. They promised they would release us when we got the building finished. Brother Romney interviewed us all separate and tried to see if we had had any trouble. When he found we hadn’t , he said, “I would release you, but you didn’t ask for the position, neither did you ask to be released.”
President Voyle Munson was the Stake President and I was in the High Consel for nin years- four years as a counselor in the Stake Presidency with President Rex Albrecht and the other counselor was Rulon Ellett. Rulon Ellett was release and we had Tom Chappell for a counselor. Then, I finally asked to be released from the Stake Presidency because I thought I was too old to serve effieciently. I have been the High Priest Group leader ever since then. I am now 82 years old and still serving in that position.
While I was bishop, I had Eeba Okerland for a Relief Society President and then Berta Oldroyd and Lizzie Morrell.
This history was written by Karl P. Mathis in his own words at the age of 82. He was visiting me me, Shanna Rae Mathis Durfey, in Cardston, Alberta, Canada. It was a beautiful experience for me to have my dad tell me the things of his life. We knelt in prayer each time we compiled this history and many times by father said, “ I can’t believe how clear these things come to me.” I feel that was inspiration from the Lord.
My father passed away July 17, 1982. He was in Salt Lake with mostof our family and he planned to go to Price, Utah to the Mathis reunion. At the time of his death, he was in good health for his age. He had been having trouble with the “old ticker” as he would say. This had slowed him down. In his yard in Loa was a beautiful garden- with no weeds- a picture for all of us to enjoy.
His funeral was a great tribure to a special father, husband, grandfather, and friend. We all loved him so much and each one of his grandchildren and great-grandchildren mourned the special friend, example and patriarch he was in our family. However, we all feel he was blessed not to suffer too long and to leave this earth with dignity.
( In July, 1996 Diane Durfey Card, daughter of Shanna Rae Mathis Durfey, retyped the text originally prepared by Shanna and, in the process made monor modifications and edits for clarification purposes only.)
( In February 2015, Amy Spilsbury Dalley- great granddaughter of Karl P. Mathis retyped this to upload it to familysearch.org. There were a few details added for clarification.)