I received a copy of this poem by Lillie M. Sharp. The reference to March 17th in the poem is the annual Plain City Founders Day Celebration.
My Grandpa, Milo James Ross, wrote in the top right corner of this piece of paper, “June 10, 1979 Milo James Ross My Grandmother” I linked the previous history written of Milo and Lillie Sharp. Much of that post was from Grandpa’s recorded memories.
Back (l-r): Jacob Catmull, Trevor Cook, Kent Hansen, Adam Haynes, Emily Neibaur Haynes, Mindy Van Tassell Robertson, Arriann Peterson Edgar, Charlyn Robinson Darrington, Paul Ross, Brooke Noble Christensen, Bobie Jones Story, Tiffany Cooper Darrington, Erin Zemke McKindree, Nicole Whitesides Wallace. Front: Patty Brown May, Cassie Tundag, Salvador Avila, and Jeremy Reeves
On 1 August 2017, the Minico Class of 1997 had a 20 year reunion luncheon. I am sharing this photo to preserve names in the photo and so others have a copy.
Many are more eloquent than me. Many have shared their memories of that fateful day, where they were at, what they were doing, and how they felt. I wish to sing with that chorus.
9/11 2021 at the Ross home. My shadow, Lillie, Aliza, Hiram, James, and Amanda.
I am not really certain why I felt more sensitive or emotional today. There was really no change from the 15, 18, or 19 year anniversary. But I felt myself pondering and deliberating, moved to tears multiple times by music and commemorative videos. I honored the 20th anniversary in Burley, Idaho with my family. I pulled my journal from 2001 to see what I wrote then. Here are a couple of excerpts.
“The past days are days never to be forgotten. Shock, anguish, anger, and peace. Not only catastrophic terrorist attacks in New York City and Washington D.C. which I shall not rehearse. They leave me in such sorrow for those people. I have wept several times. My little heart strings are tried in many ways. Such loss of life. Also a sense of awe in the brute power this government has. The whole world is shuttering at the thought of America angry. Even Germany, England, and France are quick to say we are on your side more in fear than just loyalty. It looks as if we may go to war. Even Afghanistan is quick to say they will do what we want. A country not totally cooperative in the past.” Recorded 13 September 2001.
“It is strangely imaginable how much life can change in the space of a few days… I was impressed that Friday was a national day of prayer. I listened to a portion of the service at that National Cathedral in Washington D.C. I was very moved, especially with the Battle Hymn of the Republic. The church also had a service I saw a small part of. A service done by the church in the tabernacle. A very moving scene with the two huge flags draped behind the choir… Although I had to work Sunday I knew would be a hard day for me. I had high emotions and with the tragedy this week… Sacrament was amazing. I sat with Paul & Kathryn [England]. The Bishopric all spoke and several musical numbers. The Hughes brothers sang ‘Lord, Make Me an Instrument of they Peace.’ Kathryn sang ‘In My Father’s House There are Many Mansions.’ The Lowes did a medley with Bonnie of ‘Where can I turn for Peach, Abide with Me, and I need Thee Every Hour.’ One of the things that stuck out with the meeting was we need to forgive, but justice must be served. The opening hymn was ‘America.’ Powerful.” Recorded 17 September 2001.
I didn’t write as much as I thought I might have, especially with the vivid memories I have. 11 September 2001 was what 22 November 1963 was to my parents. 11 September 2001 was what 7 December 1941 was for my grandparents. So it is through the generations before. Where and what they were doing when they heard about x, y, or z. The assassination of Lincoln or Garfield or Ferdinand. The sinking of the Reuben James or the Bismarck. Or the surrender of Cornwall. I guess it depends on what generation or the incident.
Here is my story of 11 September 2001. I was living with Gary & Lena Hughes at 368 Santa Fe Ave, Branson, Missouri. I managed the dinner theater for the Hughes Brothers. As such, I worked late evenings and usually got up in the morning to an empty home. I often got up and prepared for the day, ate breakfast, and usually practiced the piano and singing. Most of the time the local radio was playing in the background, the station usually 1930s-1950s music.
This morning was different. I woke up and I remember thinking the day was heavy. The radio was not on, I did not practice. It was quiet and solemn. I ate and headed to the theater for the first show of the day. The drive to the theater was usually less than 10 minutes.
I turned on the radio half way to the theater. There was discussion about damage to a skyscraper and confusion on which of the buildings had been hit. I did not get enough information to know where or what had happened. But I understood there was a potential attack on the United States.
I arrived at the theater and I could sense the pandemonium. It was big, whatever had happened. But the buses were arriving and we needed to get the people seated and ready for the first show. Some of the people were just as unaware as me, others were visibly upset, others were just emotionless. As the time got closer there was a sense of panic of whether to cancel, how to alter the show, what to do moving forward. The information coming to us from the office was becoming more clear as to what had happened. The show started late. It was going to be mostly impromptu.
Elder Evan Wagley in front of the Hughes Brothers Theater, Branson, Missouri, I believe 2002.
I watched from the balcony as Jason Hughes welcomed the audience. He gave an update for everyone present. Asked whether the show could start with a prayer. A prayer was uttered. I don’t recall if it was first or not, but the Hughes Brothers sang their version of Secret Prayer. It still haunts me today, the memory, the song. We were communing in a theater church. There were hymns, patriotic music, and a smattering of other songs. It is all fuzzy to me now 20 years later, but Secret Prayer is the show for me. I was likely back and forth between the offices and the balcony of the theater. The response at intermission and afterward was extremely positive. Those people had been uplifted.
Here is a link to the Hughes Brothers singing the song.
As the day went on it was interesting to see the reactions of individuals. There was a general consensus we were headed to war. Some were so distraught that our nation and way of life was ending. Others were hopeful this was an isolated incident. There were many tears and emotions were high. One individual in the office was trying to figure out ways to avoid the draft that was sure to come. I was turning 22 that same month, prime age. Do we enlist or just wait it out. Others commented about their parents and the bombing of Pearl Harbor and how they mobilized.
My Grandfather Ross and Grandmother Jonas had both planted a seed in my heart and a desire to serve in the military. I looked forward to the opportunity and yet feared what might yet come. Too this day, I still wonder how I will yet serve and get that honorable flag on my casket.
As the days pressed forward we watched a revitalization of unity in faith and our nation. I do not believe it was the time I felt the strongest for my country, but it was the time when it was the most palpable.
That is all I recall of the day looking back. My journal helped me recall the international unity and coalescing against terror and evil. I do long for the days of trying to do what is right for the nation as opposed for the party or individual. May those days again return, but not due to some terrible tragedy. Unfortunately, that does not seem to be in the cards. But one can hope. Whether in this life of the next, it will come. “It’s the place where dreams come true.”
Elder Spencer Lewis and me at Mt. Vernon Missouri, I believe mid September 2001.
We stopped to pay a visit at the Clarkston, Utah, Cemetery recently. We were in Cache Valley for the Jonas Reunion and I knew Amanda had some ancestors buried in Clarkston. Amanda did not recall ever seen their graves (and I also had not searched them out). We have also been talking about Martin Harris in our study of the Doctrine & Covenants. I surprised the family with a surprise stop on our way home from the Jonas Reunion in Hyrum.
Amanda, Aliza, Hiram, and James Ross at graves of James & Ann Keep on 8 August 2021, a hot, windy, and smokey day
James & Ann Keep are Amanda’s 4th Great Grandparents. Amanda wasn’t very familiar with them so we had to do some homework.
James Joseph Keep was born 25 September 1804 in Chiswick, Middlesex, England to James Joseph and Ann Evens Keep. He was christened 11 November 1804 in St. Nicholas Parish in Chiswick. His father died when he was 5 and was raised by his grandparents.
James married Elizabeth Parr in 1825 and she passed away in or before 1836. He remarried to Ann Miller on 25 July 1836 in St. Mary’s, Reading, Berkshire, England. They joined the Methodists, then the Baptists, and then were Independents.
Two young Mormon men came near the house preaching the true gospel and Ann told James to go out and hear them. They were preaching about baptism. He went into the house and searched his Bible to ascertain the truth of what they said. Here he found that baptism was to be born of the water and the spirit. When they came again to preach, James took a long bench for the people to sit on. That evening he went to the meeting house. There he heard the saints speak in tongues.
Apparently he and his family were baptized in 1848 into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He joined 23 July 1848 and Ann on 20 September 1848.
Ann Miller was born 10 August 1816 in Newbury, Berkshire, England to James and Ann Elkins Miller. She was christened 2 October 1816 at North Croft Lane Baptist Church in Newbury.
The 1841 and 1851 census both have the Keep family in Thatcham, Berkshire, England. He was a mason and bricklayer.
James, Ann, and family left London on 23 May 1866 on the ship American Congress arriving at Castle Gardens, New York, on 5 July 1866. They were in Wyoming, Otoe, Nebraska on 13 August 1866 traveling with the Abner Lowry Wagon Company arrving in Salt Lake City, Utah on 22 October 1866.
James and Ann Keep attended the Endowment House 6 Jun 1868.
The 1870 Census places the James & Ann Keep in Newton, Cache, Utah with Maria. Shortly afterward they moved to Clarkston and James built a masonry home for them. 1880 Census has them located in Clarkston. James was known for his masonry work and often built chimneys for individuals.
Ann helped in the fields with James to raise crops. They had oxen with which they did their farming. Sometimes she would be very tired when she got home. The oxen’s names were Jack and Jue. Ann called them by name and they would reply by their actions.
James & Ann Keep
Ann enjoyed her home and loved to make it look nice. She had flowers in the windows and all around the house and a fine orchard of apples, English currants, and gooseberries. All kinds of vegetables were grown in the garden. Her husband helped to care for it too. There was a small porch on the front of her house with a hop vine all around it which grew and ran all over the porch making a nice shade in the summertime. In the fall she would gather the hops and dry them and make yeast with them three times per week. The sisters in the town would send a cup of flour to trade for a cup of yeast to make their bread. In this way she kept herself in flour.
Ann and James Keep at their home in Clarkston, Utah
She was called as first counselor to Mary Griffin in the Clarkston Relief Society on 12 February 1875. She was released in 1885 as she and her husband were getting old and could not do their work so well. Ann was a very busy woman. When too old to do heavy work, she would sew quilt blocks for the Relief Society and for her grandchildren or anyone who would let her do it for them.
James and Ann decided to sell their house and property and live on the principle and interest. In 1890, they sold out and moved to Lehi, Utah for two years. Then they returned to Clarkston to live for several years. Ann had a very bad sick spell and it took her a long time to recover. After she got well, they moved to Newton to live with a daughter, Ruth Griffin.
Just before her death Ann bore a strong testimony to the truth of the gospel, telling her daughters and families to hold fast to the end for this was the true Church of Jesus Christ and to do all they could for their dead. She told her nurse, Caroline Thompson, to hold her pocket book for her, then she took out a dollar and passed it to her daughter, Sarah Buttars and said, “Get my brother Joseph’s temple work done for he was a good man.” She passed away 25 October 1896 in Newton.
James passed away while staying with his daughter Mary Turner in Lehi on 14 March 1899. His body was returned and buried in Clarkston.
Here is the story of her hearing from the Branch President in Newbury.
~
Kennett Place, Newbury, Berks, Sept. 30, 1850
Dear President Pratt,
We have recently been favored with a manifestation of the miraculous power of God; in this branch of the Church a sister, named Ann Keep, the wife of Joseph Keep, who is a deacon in the Church, had a cancer in her breast for some time; and it became so bad of late that she intended to have it cut out, and the time was appointed for it to be done. Three medical men were to be present at the operation. A brother named David Davis, an elder in the Church, called to see her, and she told him she was going to have the cancer taken out; and he said to her “have you got any faith in the power of God?” and she answered “yes:” and he said “so have I.” Accordingly he anointed her breast with oil, and laid hands upon her, and the pain left her there and then, and she never felt it any more; and from that time the cancer got less, until it disappeared; and the breast that had the cancer is as well as the other. This is known by many out of the Church.
Yours, &c.
Thomas Squires
President of the Newbury Branch
~
James Keep finds himself in history due to being present in the home of Martin Harris at the visit of Ole Jensen in July 1875. John Godfrey and James Keep both signed as witnesses to the statement of Ole Jensen, Clarkston Ward Clerk. This is from Jensen’s statement:
It was in Clarkston, Utah, July 1875. Early in the morning a thought came to my mind that I would go and see how Brother Martin Harris was feeling. It was only three blocks from my home. I heard he was not feeling well. People came from other towns to see Brother Harris and hear him bear his testimony on the Book of Mormon. When I arrived there were two men present. Brother Harris lay on his bed leaning on his elbow. I said, How are you? Brother Harris answered slowly, Pretty well.We came to hear your testimony on the Book of Mormon.
Yes, he said in a loud voice as he sat up in bed, I wish that I could speak loud enough that the whole world could hear my testimony. Brother stand over so I can see you. Then he stretched out his hand and said, Brother I believe there is an Angel to hear what I shall tell you, and you shall never forget what I shall say. The Prophet, Oliver Cowdery, David Whitmer and myself went into a little grove to pray to obtain a promise that we should behold it with our own eyes.
That we could testify of it to the world. We prayed two or three times and at length the angel stood before Oliver and David and showed them the plates. But behold I had gone by myself to pray and in my desperation I asked the Prophet to kneel down with me and pray for me that I may also see the plates. And we did so and immediately the Angel stood before me and said, Look and when I glanced at him I fell but I stood on my feet and saw the Angel turn the golden leaves over and I said, It is enough my Lord and my God.Then I heard the voice of God say the book is true and translate correctly!“
Martin Harris then turned himself as though he had no more to say and we made ready to go but he spoke again and said, I will tell you a wonderful thing that happened after Joseph had found the plates. Three of us took some tools to go to the hill and hunt for some more boxes of gold or something and indeed we found a stone box. We got quite excited about it and dug quite carefully around it and we were ready to take it up, but behold by some unseen power the box slipped back into the hill. We stood there and looked at it and one of us took a crowbar and tried to drive it through the lid and hold it but the bar glanced off and broke off one corner of the box.“
“Sometime that box will be found and you will see the corner broken off and then you will know I have told the truth again. Brother as sure as you are standing here and see me, just so sure did I see the golden plates in His hand and He showed them to me. I have promised that I will bear witness of this truth both here and hereafter.”
His lips trembled and tears came into his eyes. I should liked to have asked one more question but I failed to do so. But I refreshed myself and shook hands and thanked him and left. When I think of the day I stood before Martin Harris and saw him stretch forth his hand and raise his voice and hear his testimony, the feeling that thrilled my whole being, I can never forget. Nor can I express the joy that filled my soul. This is a true statement.
~
We also visited the grave of Martin Harris in the same cemetery at Clarkston.
Paul, Aliza, and Hiram Ross at the grave of Martin Harris on 8 August 2021
This article is from Pioneer magazine, 2019 Vol. 66, No. 4. This is actually a reprint from the Winter 1997 Pioneer magazine. This article was entitled Payback Time and was written by Paul W. Hodson. I made a couple of corrections as referenced in brackets.
“The Mormon Battalion boys had marched, walked and limped for 2,000 miles—from Council Bluffs, Iowa, to Ft. Leavenworth, over the plains of Kansas, across the deserts of the Southwest to the Pacific Ocean. Six months on the way, they were lean and exhausted and numbered only 350 of the 500 who had left Iowa in June of 1846, just a few months after being driven from Nauvoo. Upon arriving in San Diego, they were declined to Pueblo de los Angeles for an expected skirmish with troops of the Mexican General Jose Flores, last seen at San Pasqual.
“Once trooper, Williard G Smith, was an 18-year-old drummer and survivor of the Ha[w]n’s Mill massacre. He had been only 11 years when frenzied Missouri mobbers stormed into the Ha[w]n’s Mill settlement, killing his father and 9-year-old brother. He had carried his badly wounded 6-year-old brother, [Alma], from the blacksmith’s shop, which had been besieged by the mob and where his dead brother[, Sardius,] had been shot.
“Near the front of the battalion was Capt. Levi W Hancock, who had served in the First Quorum of the Seventy in Kirtland with Willard’s uncle, Sylvester Smith. As they came into what was then the little Mexican town of Pueblo de los Angeles, Hancock was confronted by a scruffy looking vagabond—a pitiful, decrepit fellow.
““What can I do for you?” the captain asked.
““If there be any Mormon soldier here who was at Ha[w]n’s Mill in 1838, let me talk to him,” the man said, his twisted, agonized face grimacing even more. He began to tremble and weep. “I shot a little boy’s brains out and saw them gushing out all over his dead body!” he wailed. “I can’t forget that horrible scene in the black-smith shop! Killing is too good for me! Destroy me!
“Capt. Hancock knew well the tragic story of Ha[w]n’s Mill, and he was aware of Willard’s losses there. He hesitated for a moment as the man continued to sob at his feet. “Come, “he said at last . I’ll take you to that little boy’s brother.”
“When they reached Willard the tramp blurted out: “Did you know small boy who was killed at Ha[w]n’s Mill? I am the man who killed him.”
“Willard looked at the man, dumbfounded. Confusion emotion swelled within him as he recalled the unforgotten scene he had experienced as a youngster. His jaw tightened; his teeth clenched. For years he had promised himself that one day he would find and kill the men who had murdered his brother and his father. After a long pause, Willard responded to the man’s questions: “He was my little brother. I found him in the blacksmith’s shop, bleeding, with his brains scattered on the floor.”
“The broken-down tramp fell into his knees in front of Willard, bared his chest and pled with the young man to execute him. It was a moment for which Willard had hoped for years, and yet he hesitated to extract his revenge. He found himself wishing he could talk to his mother, Amanda Barnes Smith who had been widowed, lost one son and left with another son with his hip shot out as a result of the events at Ha[w]n’s Mill. How would she feel about this? Would she be bitter and filled with rage? Would she encourage Willard to aim his rifle and pull the trigger at the man who had brought so much destruction and sadness to their family? He didn’t think so.
“The odd-looking man with tattered clothes, unshaven face and gaunt eyes threw himself prostrate on the ground at Willard’s feet. “I did that terrible deed!” he cried. “Kill me! I beg you! Kill me!”
“As Willard looked down upon the suffering wretch, years of accumulated anger melted away, replaced by pity. “I have no wish to kill,” he said. “Go your way.”
““No!” the man screamed in tortured anguish. “I can’t live any longer with that memory! Take your gun and kill me! Take me out of my misery!”
“”There is a just God in Heaven who will revenge that crime,” Willard said. I will not stain my hands with your blood.” The man continued to wail as Willard returned to his campsite. For the first time in many years, the young battalion soldier felt at peace. As the tramp, he loitered around the camp for days, begging to be killed until the officers had him driven away. He was last seen stumbling down the road, a ghostly spectacle of unremitted torment crying out for judgment.
“From Never Forsake Legacy of the Ha[w]n’s Mill Massacre by Paul W. Hodson, a great-grandson of Amanda Barnes Smith and a grandson of [Alma] Smith, the wounded little boy Willard saved from the blacksmith’s shop.
Salt Lake Temple, Revelations 14:6, And I saw another angel fly in the midst of heaven, having the everlasting gospel to preach unto them that dwell on the earth, and to every nation, and kindred, and tongue, and people,
This is an insightful article that came out with the Spring 2021 Clark Memorandum. I found myself enlightened by the introspection suggested. Enough that I was moved and want to share it with others. The author is Melissa Wei-Tsing Inouye, Senior Lecturer, University of Auckland, and Historian, Church History Department of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Recently President Russell M. Nelson has called on the Latter-day Saints “to lead out in abandoning attitudes and actions of prejudice” and has pleaded with us “to promote respect for all of God’s children.” Additionally, President Dallin H. Oaks has challenged us to “root out racism.” These directives make some things very clear: We are part of the problem. We wouldn’t have to abandon “attitudes and actions of prejudice” if we didn’t have them already. And uprooting will be a long, hard project. I offer three perspectives I hope my fellow Church members will find helpful. First, the problem of racism is a social reality that affects all human beings. Second, the restored gospel provides us with tools and frameworks for dealing with racism: confess and forsake and turn weaknesses to strengths through humility. Third, we all need to ask the Lord, “What lack I yet?” How do we get to work?
1. We All Have Blind Spots
As an Asian American growing up in diverse Southern California, I rarely felt the sting of racism. Now that I live in Utah, I notice racism much more frequently. Some of my friends and family have experienced ugly, malicious barbs, but the racism I most frequently encounter in Utah is in the form of condescension. White people compliment me on my English. In other words, when they see me, they assume I am foreign and I don’t belong. Then they hear me, and they are surprised. Then they decide to tell me about this surprise: “Oh, you speak English very well!” They don’t say, “I hate Asians,” but their words say, “I consider people who look like me to be ‘normal’ and expect people who look like you to be ‘different than normal.’”
One BYU student, whose family emigrated from Uruguay and who, along with all of her siblings, has fair skin and blue eyes, reported that, in their new Utah ward, someone came up to her parents and said, “Oh, look, the Lamanite curse is already coming off from her! You must be blessed!” Sometimes the racism is about as explicit as it gets, like the swastika and racial slurs that appeared recently on a fence along the bike path my children ride to school.
Biologically speaking, racial categorizations have no basis in objective reality. They are figments of the human imagination and are an example of our weakness for sweeping generalities. Humans beings share 99.9 percent of their DNA with each other. Skin color, eye color, and hair texture and color are a pinch of that tiny 0.1 percent of difference that people arbitrarily use to make consequential guesses about each other’s hearts, minds, capacity, safety, and so on. We might as well link judgments about intelligence to people’s earlobe shape or language-learning ability to toe circumference. Yet over and over again, in every place, many people treading the same crooked ways for centuries creates ruts so deep and so wide it is hard for them to imagine other paths. As President Oaks has said, “Racism is probably the most familiar source of prejudice today, and we are all called to repent of that.” “All” means you and me. I have become increasingly aware of the perpetual need to work hard to not be inadvertently unkind as I have lived in places such as the United States, Germany, the People’s Republic of China, Taiwan, Hong Kong, and New Zealand. No one is immune to prejudice because no one can spend their life becoming embedded within every place and human circumstance in this wide world.
When I moved to New Zealand to take an academic position at the University of Auckland, I had some rough patches in my interactions with students and fellow professors. I discovered that the cultural traits Americans see in themselves of being friendly and optimistic can come off to New Zealanders as shallow and transactional, especially when the American (me) isn’t listening carefully to others around them. I remember sitting in my office when a Māori professor told me, kindly but candidly, how I had completely ignored his expertise and failed to acquire the level of cultural competence necessary for a university event I was planning. I remember thinking, “What do you mean I’m disrespecting people from marginalized groups? I’m Brown! I’m a woman!” Because of my past experiences receiving racism and ethnocentrism, I thought I was “exempt” from perpetuating them. But I was wrong.
Rooting out racism is a process of becoming aware of our blind spots and our great power to cause harm to others, especially to others on the margins. Unfortunately, unlike a pack of manufactured Toyotas and Fords on a highway, human blind spots are unique and change depending on who is around us. In the worst-case scenario, our cars are so big and heavy and fast that we don’t even notice when we knock small cars or pedestrians off the road.
Where are your blind spots? If you don’t know, you haven’t been looking.
2. The Racism in Our Past and Present Need Not Be in Our Future
Latter-day Saint theology explains that we came to mortal life, with its hardship and temptation, in order to learn and grow. Making mistakes and repenting is part of the plan. We have to be careful: a sin like racism is toxic enough to kill us spiritually. In the past, we have been affected by this illness. But if we heal from it, we can become stronger.
When I was experiencing cancer recurrence for a second time, some friends put me in touch with Dr. Mark Lewis. Even though he had never met me before, Dr. Lewis was kind enough to call to discuss my treatment. In the first few seconds of the call, he mentioned that he, too, was a cancer patient. He said, “I just had a scan the other day, and I’m waiting for the results.” In that moment, my confidence in Dr. Lewis took a giant leap.
No matter how knowledgeable, a doctor who has not had cancer cannot understand what it is like to feel in your body the pain, the shortness of breath, the needles and tubes and powerful medications, what it is like to walk past the open door of death on your way to the kitchen. Discovering Dr. Lewis was a cancer patient made me instantly trust him.
On a spiritual level, it is also true that some of the greatest healers are those who have known illness. Kylie Nielson Turley’s study of the Book of Alma points out that we have tended to see Alma’s story as the familiar tale of a rebellious teenager who eventually mellows out. However, the term “Alma the Younger” actually never appears in the Book of Mormon text. This label, along with some other things, has led us to believe he was young and rebellious. But Turley’s study shows it is actually probable that he was a mature adult, perhaps even in his 40s or 50s, when he repented and was born again. Alma may have been a full-fledged bad guy. But he became converted and began calling people to repentance. Because he had personally experienced the corrosive effects of sin, he had powerful authority to call others to repent.
This gives new meaning to Alma’s teaching about Christ: that He would
go forth, suffering pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind; and this that the word might be fulfilled which saith he will take upon him the pains and the sicknesses of his people. . . . [A]nd he will take upon him their infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he may know according to the flesh how to succor his people.
According to this passage, Christ inhabited our infirmities in order to understand how to heal us. It wasn’t enough for Jesus to stop up others’ wounds and lift others’ sorrows. It was necessary for Him to feel wounds in His own flesh, to experience despair and injustice and life gone horribly wrong.
In summary, patients make trustworthy doctors. Repented sinners make compelling prophets. The experience of mortal weakness is what turned the popular rabbi Jesus into the Savior of all. We believe suffering from mistakes in mortality is necessary for growth and for becoming as God is.
Our imperfections on this issue of racism and prejudice are clear to anyone who studies Latter-day Saint history. The Church’s essay on race and the priesthood states:
In 1852, President Brigham Young publicly announced that men of black African descent could no longer be ordained to the priesthood. . . . Over time, Church leaders and members advanced many theories to explain the priesthood and temple restrictions. None of these explanations is accepted today as the official doctrine of the Church.
These “theories” and “explanations” by Latter-day Saint leaders and members included the idea that all Black people were descended from Cain and inherited the curse God placed upon him in the Book of Genesis; the teaching that interracial marriage was sinful, akin to letting a “wicked virus” into your system; and the notion that Black people were less valiant in the premortal life. Some who promulgated these theories also made other painful claims that Black people were “uncouth, uncomely, . . . wild,” and inferior to White people.
These statements, which sound so ugly to us today, reflect to a great extent the social and cultural assumptions with which these Latter-day Saint leaders were raised in 19th and 20th-century America. Comparable statements to those of Church leaders in the past were made by the great American president Abraham Lincoln and many others. In the same year that Bruce R. McConkie first published Mormon Doctrine, a popular book containing numerous theories and explanations, the Virginia couple Mildred and Richard Loving were arrested (and eventually sentenced to one year in prison) because their marriage violated a law banning interracial marriage in that state. At the time, similar laws existed in 24 other states, including Utah. No one is immune to culture. We must have empathy for those whom the passage of time turns into moral strangers, because someday, surely, those people will be us.
But significantly, as historian Paul Reeve has pointed out, throughout the 19th and 20th centuries there were people, including Latter-day Saints, who had done the intellectual and spiritual work to see beyond the evils of their day and cultivate knowledge of other people’s humanity and divinity. Over the course of his tenure as president of the Church, Joseph Smith evolved from supporting the enslavement of Black people based on Biblical passages about Canaan—a common Biblical interpretation of the day—to asking how the United States could claim “that all men are created equal” while “two or three millions of people are held as slaves for life, because the spirit in them is covered with a darker skin than ours.” During his presidency, Black men such as Elijah Able and Walker Lewis were ordained to the priesthood as elders and represented the Church as missionaries. In Nauvoo, Joseph and Emma developed a close relationship with Jane Manning, a Black Latter-day Saint. Jane lived and worked in their home, and at one point Joseph and Emma invited Jane to be eternally sealed to their family through adoption. Jane’s own words reflect her esteem for the Prophet, which must have in some part reflected his esteem for her. “I did know the Prophet Joseph,” she later testified. “He was the finest man I ever saw on earth.”
In the early 1850s, the apostle Orson Pratt opposed legalizing slavery in Utah and supported Black voting rights. “[T]o bind the African because he is different from us in color,” he said, “[is] enough to cause the angels in heaven to blush.”19 In May 1968, a month after the death of Martin Luther King Jr. sparked racial tensions around the United States, Hugh B. Brown of the First Presidency taught BYU students, “[A]void those who preach evil doctrines of racism. . . . Acquire tolerance and compassion for others and for those of a different political persuasion or race or religion.”
This gives us hope that we are not trapped in our cultures and times. It is possible to overcome the moral and cultural blinders of the societies in which we live. We will never escape them completely, but we can see more clearly.
Acknowledging the Latter-day Saints’ past racism is painful because it feels so wrong and because it did such harm. But, as laid out in Doctrine and Covenants 58:43, acknowledging wrongdoing is the first, essential step to leaving it behind: first, confess; then, forsake.
In this spirit, the Church’s essay on race and the priesthood declares:
Today, the Church disavows the theories advanced in the past that black skin is a sign of divine disfavor or curse, or hat it reflects unrighteous actions in a premortal life; that mixed-race marriages are a sin; or that blacks or people of any other race or ethnicity are inferior in any way to anyone else. Church leaders today unequivocally condemn all racism, past and present, in any form.
Our current Church leaders have taken increasingly bolder steps to lead out against racism. In 2018 they hosted the “Be One” celebration commemorating the 1978 end of the priesthood and temple ban and honoring the contributions of Black Latter-day Saint pioneers. In June 2020, President Nelson joined the national conversation on race in the wake of George Floyd’s death. He coauthored a joint op-ed with Derrick Johnson, Leon Russell, and the Reverend Amos Brown, three leaders of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP), calling for “government, business, and educational leaders at every level to review processes, laws, and organizational attitudes regarding racism and root them out once and for all.” This attention to “processes, laws, and organizational attitudes” called attention to the need for structural change.
In early October 2020, numerous speakers in general conference—including President Nelson, President Oaks, Sister Sharon Eubank, Elder Gerrit W. Gong, Elder Quentin L. Cook, and Elder Dale G. Renlund—condemned racism and presented the Latter-day Saints with a vision for a diverse, multiracial, multinational Church.
Finally, two weeks later in a BYU devotional, President Oaks delivered a comprehensive address on combating racism. Reiterating President Nelson’s recent charge to the Latter-day Saints to abandon “attitudes and actions of prejudice,” he said, “[W]e condemn racism by any group toward any other group worldwide,” and urged, “Now, with prophetic clarification, let us all heed our prophet’s call to repent, to change, and to improve.”
In asking us “to repent, to change, and to improve,” to “root out racism,” and to “clear away the bad as fast as the good can grow,” our current leaders are sending us a strong message: get rid of the bad stuff (i.e., do the work of anti-racism) and get on with the good stuff (i.e., work to establish Zion around the world).
Our leaders have made it clear that we each need to repent. Saying, “We are all good! No need for repentance here!” is disrespecting the Savior’s offer of atoning grace. We cannot “be saved in ignorance.” But if we humble ourselves and seek Christ’s help in moving forward, the errors and lack of knowledge in our past can turn to wisdom. Our stumbling because of racism in the past can be converted into eagerness to lead out in the future. Like Dr. Lewis, Alma, and Christ Himself, our memory of sickness can become a capacity to heal.
3. What Lack I Yet?
Here some might be thinking, “But I’m not racist. I don’t hate anyone.” It is a common misconception that racism means hate. Hate, along with fear, is a common symptom of racism, just like a cough or a sore throat is a symptom of covid-19. But hate is not all of what racism is.
At its core, racism is ignorance. It was ignorance that prompted those “You speak English so well!” people to say something to me—a stranger with brown eyes and dark skin—that they would not say to a stranger with blue eyes and light skin. It was ignorance that led Latter-day Saints in the past to find facile, speculative explanations for the priesthood and temple ban, like the “fence-sitters in the pre-existence” theory. The handy thing about this explanation was that it required no change in Church members’ existing worldview. The problem was that it also required ignoring Christ’s basic teachings, the second Article of Faith, the historical precedent set by Joseph Smith, and the fundamental implications of the phrase “children of God.”
Looking back at history, we wonder: How could a Latter-day Saint bishop like Abraham O. Smoot have enslaved Tom, a member of the Sugar House Ward over which he presided in Salt Lake City in the 1850s? How could the people of the United States in 1942 have approved of depriving my American-born grandparents Charles Inouye and Bessie Murakami of their civil rights, their property, and their livelihoods and imprisoning them behind barbed wire at Heart Mountain, Wyoming? In the UK, in Germany, in China, in Rwanda, in South Africa—throughout history, over and over again—we see people failing to see each other as fully human like themselves.
The frightening thing is that in all of these examples in the past, good-hearted people who strove to be morally upstanding were unaware of their stunning, reprehensible ignorance. How can we know we are not making the same mistakes?
On the score of racism, at least, history teaches us plenty of ways to avoid ignorance, if we are willing to put in the work. History can be our friend. If we study how ignorance looked in the past, we can better identify it in the present. If we can understand its potential to wound others and poison the worldviews of well-meaning people, we, as disciples of Christ, can develop the capacity and authority to heal.
Overcoming ignorance is not a simple matter of reading five blog posts and three conference talks and having a conversation with a Brown friend. We need to strive to know as God knows, see as God sees. Seeking learning that will show us the heart and mind of God involves hard work, radical humility, and perpetual self-improvement. But we believe in work, humility, and improvement. It is part of the plan.
If you do not have personal experience with how it feels to be regularly disrespected because of your skin color or how it feels to be constantly dismissed because you are a cultural minority, or if you don’t have peers outside your racial and cultural demographic, I humbly suggest you may lack wisdom.
I certainly know I do. Like me, you may need to ask for God’s help in filling this critical gap in your spiritual education. We, as Latter-day Saints around the world, have made sacred covenants to be one people, “bear[ing] one another’s burdens” and “mourn[ing] with those that mourn.” How can we keep these covenants if we ignore the burdens others bear or if we dismiss others’ mourning and deny that they have reason to grieve?
In a recent blog post, James C. Jones, a Black Latter-day Saint, explained that going out of our way for those “few” who are marginalized in society was what Jesus taught us to do. He wrote, “I’d like to go to church one day knowing that the people I worship Christ with—the same Christ who left the ninety-nine to find the one—won’t say ‘all sheep matter’ when I go to find the one.”
The fundamental equality of all before God the Creator dictates that Latter-day Saints do not dismiss others’ experiences of racism simply because we have not lived through these experiences ourselves. Jones also wrote:
Our very church is founded on the lived experience, revelatory as it is, of Joseph Smith. To devalue the lived experience of others is to desecrate the body-temple in which we all, prophet and prostitute alike, move about and understand this earthly life.
It is no sin to be born in a place where everyone looks the same, nor to be born into a culture in which certain assumptions about whole groups of people are taken for granted. But once we have grown to adulthood and come into the fold of God, which encompasses seven and a half billion sheep—all precious—we must put away the self-centered assumption that my view is always the best, my experience is universal, and it is only a problem if it is happening to me as one more childish thing.
If only I had joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Bald Generation X Asian Women Historians Raised in Orange County California, USA! How daunting is Christ’s charge in the great intercessory prayer, when He said that those who truly follow Him and testify of His divinity are those who will “be one” with each other! How daunting is the baptismal covenant given at the waters of Mormon to follow Christ! This covenant language wasn’t “we will bear the burdens of people in our neighborhood only” or “we will only bear burdens we, too, have personally experienced.”
Most people don’t think of it this way, but the most lasting outcome of successful missionary work is not having more people in the pews but inheriting more of the world’s thorniest problems. Missionary work is not about “claiming more people for our club” but about wiggling our shoulders into more yokes to pull many heavy loads.
The story of the young man in the gospels of Matthew and Mark is instructive. When the lifelong righteous, commandment-keeping, wealthy young man asked Jesus, “[W]hat good thing shall I do . . . ?” and “[W]hat lack I yet?” he was probably thinking Jesus would suggest another pious practice to slot into his “I’m-a-good-person” crown. Instead the Lord told him to give away all of his privilege. He asked the young man to seek parity with strangers at the very bottom rung of society. And the young man—who stood in front of the bona fide, miracle-working, in-the-flesh Jesus and in that instant received the Savior’s love—found he couldn’t do it. He didn’t want to do it.
The moral of the story is clear: no matter how awesome we think we are, the main question is still “What lack I yet?” (The more common question “What do they lack?” is beyond the scope of our agency.) Would we who yearn to see the Savior’s face be willing to literally stand before Him and hear Him say, “Come, follow me,” if it meant giving away our homes, our cars, our children’s college tuition fund, our dinner, our running water, our toothbrushes, and our family’s safety and becoming one with the poorest of the world’s poor? This is a troubling question. I am ashamed to say that I am not sure what I would do. But Jesus’s call to action is clear: even people who have eagerly kept the commandments all their lives may be holding something back. If we truly want to follow Him, we will dare ask, “What lack I yet?” and expect a difficult answer.
In the October 2020 general conference, Michelle D. Craig, first counselor in the Young Women General Presidency, cited the parable of the priest, the Levite, and the Samaritan (a classic blind spot story) and called on us to ask God for help overcoming our limited vision. She said: “Ask to see others as He does—as His true sons and daughters with infinite and divine potential. Then act by loving, serving, and affirming their worth and potential as prompted.”
In sum, we should stop thinking, “Racism is hate, and I don’t hate anyone, so I can sit this one out.” Instead, we should ask, “What lack I yet?” To root out racism, we must go beyond simply avoiding racial slurs or ignorantly repeating discredited theories and explanations. We must proactively seek opportunities to understand how our sisters and brothers have experienced racism and how we can start doing some things differently.
4. What Can We Actually Do?
The day after President Oaks called us to repent and do more to root out racism, I tried to think of something concrete that I could do immediately. I decided to find images of the Savior that do not depict Him with White, European features. Clearly, Jesus was a Middle Easterner; He looked like someone from the Middle East. He was a person of color. Over centuries, as Christianity spread to Europe, many European artists painted Jesus—quite understandably, as artists in Ethiopia and Japan and New Zealand and all places have done—as someone from their part of the world. They wanted to imagine a Savior who did not look like a foreigner (especially since for centuries many people from Europe feared and hated people from the Middle East). From a practical standpoint, the painters could only find local European models. One image I love, of Christ and the rich young man, was painted by German artist Heinrich Hofmann and has this European character.
In the globalized world of the 21st century, it is not difficult to imagine Jesus in His actual historical and geographic context. Now that I understand that the real Jesus looked like a Middle Eastern person, why would I want only images of Jesus as a White person of European descent? Therefore, the day after President Oaks’s talk, I went to Deseret Book and found an abundance of scenes of Jesus in the Bible and the Book of Mormon painted by Jorge Cocco Santángelo, a Latter-day Saint painter whose geometric, slightly abstract style depicts Christ without a specific set of “racial” features. Together, my family members picked out one of these beautiful images to display in our home. I subsequently came across a beautiful image of Christ and the rich young man painted by a Chinese artist in the first half of the 20th century and had it mounted on canvas. Now I am always on the lookout for other diverse ways artists have depicted the Savior of the world.
Here are some additional tips, developed in consultation with some fellow Latter-day Saints who have experienced racism in a Church setting.
5. Stop.
Please stop repeating harmful theories and explanations for the priesthood and temple ban that the Church has disavowed. If you are not sure what the Church’s current positions are, read the 2013 essay on race and the priesthood carefully; watch the First Presidency’s 2018 “Be One” celebration and pay attention to the history presented. Don’t invent new theories and explanations.
Please stop denying the racism of people in your family tree or national history who expressed racial supremacist views or enslaved others. Racism is a common historical detail, like the pattern of a bonnet or the construction of a wagon wheel. Whitewashing over this aspect of ancestors’ lives is refusing to accept them unless they conform to 21st-century expectations. I am sure all of these ancestors are now watching from the spirit world, having progressed beyond their mortal myopia, and rejoicing as their descendants use hindsight to avoid the same serious mistakes they made.
One beautiful example of “redeeming the dead” is the current work of Christopher Jones, a professor at BYU, to recover the history of Tom, the Black member of the Sugar House Ward in the 1850s. Tom was enslaved and brought to Utah by Hayden Thomas Church. Later, Church sold Tom to Abraham O. Smoot, Tom’s Bishop. Church is Jones’s ancestor. How better to participate in our ancestors’ salvation than to work on their behalf to repair broken things?
Please stop asking the question “Where are you from?” to people you have just met. Racial minorities get asked this question all the time by total strangers who are trying to figure out their ethnic and racial background because it seems so “different” and “unusual.” Know that if you ask this question right off the bat of someone from a racial minority group, you are presenting yourself as someone who is fixated on that person’s body as opposed to their character, experience, sense of humor, and so on. If you are curious about this question and get to know someone well, eventually they will tell you on their own.
6. Start.
Please start looking for the sin of racism in your life with the same eagle eyes you use to look out for pornography, violations of religious freedom, emergency preparedness situations, and other problems Church leaders have called to our attention. Apply the skill set you have already developed to spot problematic images, defend civil rights, and educate yourself about complex, largescale problems.
Please start speaking up without hesitation when someone uses racist, prejudiced, or ignorant speech, whether or not someone who will be personally hurt by this speech is in the room. Martin Luther King Jr. memorably pointed out the harm done by “the appalling silence of the good people.” In the case of racial slurs, of course, you would respond as with any foul and unacceptable language. To prepare for encountering racism in more general conversations, you can practice some ready responses ahead of time. For example:
“Whoa!” “That’s not funny.” “What point were you trying to make by saying that?” “Tell me what you mean by that?” “What I heard you say was _.”
Please start educating yourself about the experiences and viewpoints of people who are from a racial, ethnic, national, or class “group” with which you have little personal understanding. You can ask people to recommend resources that have been helpful to them or to their friends. The other day, for instance, I saw Isabel Wilkerson’s prizewinning books The Warmth of Other Suns and Caste on the shelves of Deseret Book. The digital Gospel Library on the Church’s website and app also has many resources.
Recently I heard the compelling interpretation that fasting is a form of collective mourning. By a little suffering and want in our bodies, we unite ourselves with those who experience suffering and want. By refusing self-satisfaction, we open ourselves to the experiences of those who do not have enough. As Jesus invited the rich young man to do, by giving away some of our power and security, we become closer to His people and therefore closer to Him.
Collective mourning is the work that lies ahead of us as Latter-day Saints as we seek to be one people—not just once a month but in everyday life. Perhaps in our daily study, or in a new five-minute “children of God” lesson segment of family home evening, we can grapple with the challenge of finding unity in diversity. For one great starting resource, see the rapidly expanding Global Histories page in the Church History section of the Gospel Library, which relates the stories of Latter-day Saints all over the world.
When we seek new light and knowledge, God will give liberally. May we heed our leaders’ calls to find unity with Saints around the world—not by expecting everyone “out there” to change their cultures to be like us but by realizing every one of us has a culture that is different from Christ’s “gospel culture” and that we are all shaped by assumptions indigenous to the neighborhood, county, and country in which we live. From Damascus to Draper, not one of us is “normal.” We are all deeply “ethnic,” with our own blind spots. We must all ask the Lord, “What lack I yet?” and step out to build the bridges of Zion.
This is a tall order, but this audacious, all-inclusive ambition to unite the whole human family in the present and in the past is what sets the Latter-day Saints apart. As we seek to honor our covenants, God will bear us up and make us equal to this task, I testify, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.
On 7 August 2020, the Ross Clan arrived at Astoria, Oregon. We had driven from Forks, Washington, and was headed to Seaside, Oregon. We wanted to make a stop at the Astoria Column and we had children who needed a bathroom break.
Astoria-Megler Bridge and the Columbia River
As you can see from this photo, we were too late on the potty break.
James waiting for a diaper change. Yes, the puddle under him is his too. Notice how wet his pants are?
James after his diaper change and the still damp bench from where he was seated earlier.
Can you see the look in his eye? “Dad, are you really going to take a picture of me and my remnant wet spot on the bench?”
Here is a shot of the Astoria Column, which was closed by the time we arrived. We have been here twice now and failed to get here while it was open.
Astoria Column with our Nissan Quest.
Last, a photo I took looking to the north. Imagine the awe of Lewis and Clark?
Another one of those stories. Genealogy I am doing it. Due to my efforts, family and others dump other photos in my lap. Here is another one of those photos.
Scanning more photos that belonged to my Uncle and Aunt Dave and Betty Donaldson I stumbled upon this photo. I recognized Delos Donaldson and wondered about these other people. Who are/were they? Why a photo? Why a train car? Where?
Turn it over and someone felt to record the information, which is somewhat unusual.
Back of above photo
20 September 1916 – Green River, Wyoming
Mr. J. C. Bloomer Water Foreman U.P.
Miss Thelma Bloomer
Miss Annie Bloomer
Mr. David D. Donaldson
I did a little research to find these individuals and additional information.
John C Bloemer, born 30 December 1869 in Germany, died 9 January 1947 in Kansas City, Jackson, Missouri, buried St. Mary Magdalene, Omaha, Douglas, Nebraska. He was widower, met and married Annie Cecile Brass 5 August 1919 in Kansas City, Missouri. Interesting Delos would list her as Miss but with his last name. Were they holding out as husband and wife, then why the Miss? Annie was born 1870 in Missouri and died February 1938 in Kansas City.
Thelma Katherine Bloemer was born to John and Franciska 7 October 1903 in Cheyenne, Laramie, Wyoming and died in 2000 in Ogden, Weber, Utah. She married twice to Donald Doctor McGuire and later to Daniel George Thinnes.
I assume the U.P. above is Union Pacific, not clear what a Water Foreman does, if that was irrigation, city, or train related.
Here is another photo in the group. This appears to be the same day with the train and shirt. We now know it is likely Green River, Wyoming.
David Delos Donaldson
David Delos Donaldson, born 26 March 1894 in Evanston, Uinta, Wyoming, died 24 September 1953 in Salt Lake City, Salt Lake, Utah.