Wednesday, 22 January 2025 by Sagacity

Vicki’s Class Pictures

These are photos shared to me of Victoria “Vicki” Kay Feldtman Ross. I don’t know anything more than what I have listed on the photos. I believe she graduated from Weber High School in 1963, or would have graduated. She married Dad, Milo Paul Ross, 5 March 1963 in Ogden, Weber, Utah. She was born 23 December 1945 in Ontario, Malheur, Oregon and passed away 31 December 2018 in Twin Falls, Twin Falls, Idaho.

4th Grade Ms. Morby, Vicki is back row, fourth from the right

Vicki is middle row, sixth from the right

Mixed Chorus: Back row (l-r): Robert Grieves, Arnold Burr, Deon Mayhew, Bill Fife, Bob Findess, Tommy Bartow, Ronald West, Jay Holley, Rex Judkins, Lynn Gould, James Petterson; Third row: Dee Bradshaw, Doug Giles, Dan Thompson, Blair Hadley, Dave Vesnieuw, Deloy Bentley, Doug Cheshire, Kenneth Groberg, Roger Bingham, Alan Cox, Kent Cevering; Second row: Adele Buff, Tamara Houston, Linda Perkins, Mary Carver, Betty Leach, Jolene Anderson, Carol Johnson, Linda Mapes, KayLynn Peterson, Linda Neilson, June Thompson, Carol Wheeler, Betty Yoshida, Linda Taylor, Judith Jensen; Front row: Jane Meldrum, Virginia Parker, Joyce Gunnerson, Susan Martinson, Donna Marchant, Linda Wells, Carolyn Kingston, Jelene Flinders, Vicki Feldtman, Annette Maw, Lynda Panunzio, Kay Ohlson, SheriLyn Gibson

These names are taken from the back of the photo. Please correct if you think I have them wrong.

Sunday, 13 October 2024 by Sagacity

History of Plain City Pt 11

I have two copies of the History of Plain City, Utah. The front indicates it is from March 17th 1859 to present. As far as I can tell, the book was written in 1977. At least that is the latest date I can find in the book.

One copy belonged to my Grandparents Milo and Gladys Ross. My Grandpa has written various notes inside the history which I intend to include in parenthesis whenever they appear. They add to the history and come from his own experience and hearing.

I will only do a number of pages at a time. I will also try to include scanned copies of the photos in the books. These are just scanned copies of these books, I have not tried to seek out originals or better copies.

History of Plain City March 17th 1859 to present, pages 166 through 184. That is the end of the Plain City History!

Can you Remember or Did you know?

By Lyman N Cook

The following articles are a collection of stories and events that have been a part of Plain City. These are in no way a complete list of the stories that could be told. We have older people who can remember the colorful events and stories, the eras of history, and they should be told and recorded. I hope these people will do so while they are here to tell them. I have touched upon a few. Whether the stories are good or bad, it has been my purpose or intent to have all the questions and answers, but merely to help your mind reflect upon the beautiful memories of Plain City.

Please, as readers, do not take any personal offense or injury to any of the stories. They were not written with any unkindness in mind, but hopefully you will enjoy them.

The stories are, in reality, a tribute and a compliment to the early settlers of Plain City. I cannot comprehend the magnitude of courage and strength, and the hardships those early pioneer men and women endured. How unselfishly they worked and planned for the betterment of Plain City to make it a better place for you and I to live today.

I have a deep personal feeling that we owe them everything.

The most interest and pleasure that the book has brought to me has been the fact that I have had an opportunity to visit in the homes of so many wonderful and interesting people. Compiling, reading, and writing the history has so fascinated and compelled me that I have stayed up all night, only to find in the morning that I am just as refreshed as if I had slept all night.

The following people have been so kind and helpful to me in writing the stories. They have told me stories, and refreshed my memory. I feel a deep appreciation for them, and I feel that they should be recognized. They are: Mrs. Lavina Thomas (on tape), Lyle Thomas, Byron Carver, Lee Carver, Laura Musgrave, George Knight, Clyde Hadley, Amy Robson, Harvey and Jennie Cook, Dick and Luella Skeen, Bill and Nonie Freestone, Irene Skeen, Ivy Skeen Marsden, and many others: Kris Ewert, for her printing. A special thanks to all. And also Ina Poulsen.

“TRUE STORIES AND COLORFUL EVENTS OF PLAIN CITY “

SLEIGH BELLS

One of the pleasant memories of a cold, crisp, clear pioneer winter night, was the jingling of sleigh bells as families made their way to church or to visit with friends or neighbors. The rich sound of their ringing through the hollow night air could be heard all over town. First starting out faintly and then increasing in volume as they approached their destination. It would seem that the still, peaceful night was just made for the ringing of the sleigh bells.

Almost all the families had a string of sleigh bells that were a prized possession, and a family treasure. Some of the larger strands would go across the back of the horses and around underneath the stomach, also a strand would fit on the hames. The quality of the workmanship that produced the full, rich tones will continue to enrich our memories of the past. Maybe if we lost our minds be calm and drift back through the years, we can still hear the tinkling of the sleigh bells.

PIONEER HOMES, WASH DAYS, FEATHER TICKS, COLD BEDROOMS, OLD COAL, OR WOOD STOVES

The pioneer home was usually built with two rooms, and as the family income and new family members came along, they would add an addition of bedrooms, and a dining room, parlor, or living room. There was usually a large cook stove for the parlor and dining room. The kitchen was the center of activity in the home, and only on special occasions, or when company came, would they build a fire in the other rooms. They would usually bank the stoves with wood or coal to last as long as possible. But by morning, the fire was always out. They would have two or three coal buckets, and a kindling box, and some member of the family had the chore to see what they were always full. It took a strong constitution to roll out of bed on a cold winter morning and make the fire, and wait for it to get warm.

Monday morning in the home was washday. It would start very early and last all day. They would heat the water in a copper-bottom boiler and would usually boil the clothes to help get them clean. They used a homemade lye soap. The women scrubbed the clothes on a scrub board usually placed in a metal washtub, and after scrubbing, would rinse the clothes two and three times. They would then be hung on the clothesline to dry. There was a special pride taken in the wash and to tell a woman that she hung out a pretty wash was to pay her a special tribute.

The pioneer families would usually wait until cold weather to kill meat. They would cure it, salt brine it, or dry it. For fresh meat, they would put it in a flour sack and hang it high on the north side of the house. When they wanted fresh meat they would go outside, climb the ladder, or use a pulley to bring the flour sack in. They would cut off what meat they wanted and return the flour sack out on the north side. It was not uncommon to see flour sacks hanging from the north side of most homes.

The bedrooms were usually located on the north side on the north side of the house, and were the furtherest from the stoves. It was like going into another world, or the north pole to go to bed. If you slept with a brother or sister, you would try to get them to go to bed first so they could warm the bed. The frost and ice crystals would collect on the window glass usually forming in the fall and never leaving until spring. It would usually be about a half-inch thick on the glass. The frost crystals would form in beautiful designs and patterns on the windows.

The straw tick or mattress was made with a cover and filled with straw. Each year they would empty the straw, wash the cover, and refill it with new straw when they thrashed in the fall. They would place a feather tick on top of the straw tick, and it was filled with feathers from geese and ducks. It was really warm and soft. The sheets, blankets, and quilts were piled on the bed until they were so heavy that it was hard to turn over. It was especially nice when the dog would sleep on your side of the bed, as he made an excellent footwarmer. What a breed of people to survive the cold, hard time of pioneer life.

INDIANS

There seems to be no evidence of any Indian violence or hostilities in Plain City. However, they would visit the homes of the early settlers and ask for food. As a sign of friendship to the Indians, they would always give them food. It was a very frightening experience for the pioneer women to have the Indians call when the men were in the field working and they were home alone. The children were especially scared, and were taught to be very careful when they were around.

There were people alive today in Plain City that can remember when Indians would come into town and camp. Some favorite campgrounds were across from Paul Costley’s garage, and across the street north of George Cook’s home. The white kids always played close to home when Indians were in town, and they never went anywhere at night.

The Indians squaws would go to every home and ask or beg for food. The homes that were generous would be visited several times. The Indians would stay for several days, and they would then load their treasures and leave and go north. The Indians must have liked the people of Plain City because they returned each year for many, many years.

PERRY BOAT

The ferry boat and landing was located near where the river bridge crosses the Weber River on the Plain City, West Weber road on 4700 West. It provided a river crossing for people, cattle, sheep, horses, and wagons. The ferry was made of logs tied together, and a large molasses boiler and pole was used to push the ferry across the river.

In the spring when the flood waters covered all of the low lands, the ferry would run from the hill on the north side near the Warren canal to the hill on the south as you enter West Weber. When the water receeded, the ferry returned to the channel. It has been said that in the spring the Indians would come to the hill and if the ferry was on the West Weber side, they would call across the river until the ferry came to get them. Sarah Richardson Hodson could imitate the Indian’s call for the ferry. She seemed to know more abut the ferry than anyone we knew of.

It might be important to include information about the times before all of the times before all of the reservoirs were built to hold back and store the early run-off water. Almost every spring the river would leave its channel and flood the low lands of Slaterville, Plain City, West Weber, Warren and West Warren. During some years the water would be so deep the road was closed. As a boy I can remember traveling 4700 West when the water would be up to the running boards of the Model A. The last year of excessive water was in 1952.

Not too much is known about the ferry, but it lends itself to another colorful era of interesting Plain City history.

POST OFFICE

The Plain City Post Office was located where Neta Charlton’s home is located, or one block North of the school on the northeast corner. It was run by Charlie Neal and his wife, Pussy Neal. He ran the Post office for 25 years from 1877 or 1878 until 1902 or 1903 when the government closed the Post Office, and the mail was brought into Plain city by Fred Kenley and delivered by horse and buggy.

Merl England has in his possession a letter that was postmarked Plain City, Utah, August 8, 1891.

Pussy Neal had, and kept a start of live yeast and would sell it to the women of the town to use in mixing bread. Annie Skelton would send her daughter, Nonie Skeen Freestone, down to the Neal’s for yeast. It didn’t take many trips before Nonie developed a real taste for live yeast. She would buy a three-pound lard bucket full, but by the time she walked five blocks home, she would have half of the bucket drank. She claims that it was quiet a tasty drink.

EARLY BAPTISMS

A very important date in the lives of young eight-year-old people was their baptism. Nowadays this ordinance is performed in a stake center with a very beautiful font. Before this time, this ordinance was performed in canals, rivers, lakes, and ponds. One of the most popular places to be baptized was the First Rock Crossing, or seck, as it was called. This was located on Center Street next to George West’s home, long before the canal was cemented. There was a row of poplar trees along the street, and the children would dress behind the trees. Some people would take their children up the street in the buggy and dress them, and then return for the baptism.

There were usually just two baptisms a year, one in the late spring and the other in the early fall. As a result, there were usually several children to be baptized at a time. The children would sit on a log and wait for their turn.

Some of the young people went down to the river and were baptized. The location on the river was near where the present bridge is located. They used willow trees to dress behind. Laura Musgrave and Royal Carver were tow that were baptized in the river.

George knight told me that he was baptized in the Warren Canal about where the present pump is located. This was a colorful era of the past and should help to rekindle some pleasant memories for those who participated.

THE PRIVY, CRANNY, ROOSEVELT, OR ALIAS, THE ONE-HOLER, OR THE TWO-HOLER

There was a great deal of social status involved and a real pride taken in building, caring for, and beautifying the outdoor privy. Some of the seats were made of select lumber and sanded and smoothed to the point where they were quite comfortable. And on the other extreme, some seats were rough and slivery. Some families were careful to make the privy weather proof, while others you could look out the cracks in every direction.

You could usually tell the size of the family in the house, whether it be large or small, by the size of the property. Is it a one or a two holer?

Some of the families, to prove to the world that their cranny was something special, and a respected place, would cut beautiful designs in the top of the door. I never quite figured out whether the hole in the door was for ventilation, or simply to study the wonders of the sky at night. Some of the designs were a half moon shape, a diamond shape, star, or just a round circle.

The Skeen girls, Ivy Skeen Marsden, Lenora Skeen Freestone, and Jennie Skeen Cook, still maintain to this day that their little brother, Dick Skeen, learned to throw the baseball so very well by practice throwing at the privy. He would wait until the girls would get inside and lock the door, then he would open up the rocks, clods, green pears, or anything to keep them pinned down. Dick’s favorite was the dirt clod. He would aim for the hole in the door and throw the clod through. The clod would hit the wall, break up and shower the girls with dust and dirt. He would then really laugh when the girls would cry, scream, and holler for their mother to come and rescue them from their brother.

Halloween was a risky time for outdoor privies. One of the favorite Halloween pranks for the kids was to spend the night tipping over crannies. The only thing that I would like to say on the subject now is that I am ashamed and sorry, and I must report that I am one of the parents who feel like the kids of today are going to the dogs.

During the depression and late thirties, and prior to World War II, the government had a P.W.A. and W. P. A. program. Workmen would come to your home and build outside crannies. They had a cement floor and a lid on the seat. They were weatherproof, and most people who owned one felt like that was the next best thing to running water. They were called “Roosevelts.”

Usually an old Sears catalog would act as a years supply of toilet tissue.

Some of the more discreet families would keep a pot, or thunderjug in the house for emergencies during the cold stormy winter nights. This fact was considered the family’s dark, deep secret, and was usually emptied before dawn.

With the exception of two years in the Navy, I used the outdoor privy for 26 years, and first four years after I was married. We sometimes hear it would be nice to go back to the good old days, but certainly not to the days of the outdoor privy.

SCHOOLS

The first school was in George Musgrave’s dugout. He later held school in a one-room adobe.
The first public school was built on the south of the square. It was built out of adobe. It was one room.
There was a school located on the northeast corner of the square. The town and ward used this building for some social functions. It was built of adobe in 1873 or 1874.
The North school was located where Walter Christensen now lives.
The South school is still standing and was remodeled by Harvey Cook into a home. It is located where Gordon Sorensen now lives, and across from Eldon Weston’s home. This home was built of brick.
The Poplar School was located across from Augusta Nash’s home.

I have been led to believe that there was school classes being held in all these four schools at the same time. This world be shortly before and after 1900.

EARLY STORIES

There have been at least ten stores and meat markets in Plain City up the present time. Some of the stores have stayed in the same place, but have had several different owners. I’ll just mention where the old stores were located. There were two Coy Stores. They were owned by Sarah Coy and Eliza Coy. One was across the street about where Mildred Sparks now lives. This is about 2200 North and 4650 West. The old ZCMI store was where B & C foods is now located. Garner’s store was where the pool hall is now. England’s store was where Merlin England’s now lives. McElroy’s store was where Jack’s Garage is now located. Stoker’s was located one block behind the school where Gordon McFarland lives. Maw’s was located just west of the bowery.

John Vause built and operated a meat market just north of Adela Carver’s home. Some of Steve Knight’s family operated a meat market about where White’s Café is today. Peter M. Folkman had a meat market across from the school on the east side.

Most of these early stores would trade merchandize for eggs and butter. This was especially nice for the kids of the town because they could take one egg or more and trade for candy. There wasn’t hen’s nest that was safe in Plain City. Laura Musgrave tells of how she would get Nonie Freestone and they would raid Nonie’s father’s chicken coop for eggs to go to the store for candy. There was real safety for Laura, as she always has been real sharp in having Nonie in her own father’s coop with her.

BLACKSMITH SHOPS

Christopher Folkman was the first one in Plain City. He learned his trade in Denmark. It was located near Leslie Maw’s home and Elmer Carver’s home.
Janus Lund’s Blacksmith shop was located near Dennis Lund’s home. He died in 1908.
Rall J. Taylor started his shop in 1908 and the building still stands just north of Kirt Knight’s garage.
Lew Ericson’s shop was located on the property of Neta Charlton.
George Davis’ shop was near Phil Alsup’s old home and across the street from Thomas.
Lee Gould’s shop was located near where Florence and Carl Hodson now live.
Farley’s shop was located near where Sterling Thompson now lives.
Lyman Skeen’s shop was located just south of his old home. The property is now owned by George Skeen Cook.

THE EARLY DENTIST

Lyman Skeen acted as the early dentist, and his only speciality was pulling teeth. He had a special pair of forceps which are still in the possession of the family.

People came from all of Plain City to have their teeth pulled. In those days they didn’t have any dental check-ups, or fill any decayed teeth. If a person got a cavity, they endured it until the tooth would ache and then Lyman Skeen would pull the tooth.

He was a large man and once he hooked onto the tooth, he had very little trouble getting it out.

Some of his children report that when anyone came to have their teeth pulled, they would run into the house and hide under the bed and hold their ears so they couldn’t hear the person holler or scream.

Lee Carver tells the story about as a boy going down to Lyman Skeen’s and having a tooth pulled. He was told if he would sit still and not holler to scream, and act like a man, that Lyman would pay him .25 cents. It certainly must be one of the rare cases of a dentist paying his patient.

George Knight told me he made a trip to Lyman Skeen’s home to have his tooth pulled. He was told that if he would take it like a man and not holler or yell, that he could drive the mules and wagons. After the tooth was out they went out and harnessed the mules and hooked them to the wagon and George drove the mules to his home. George said that there was nothing that Lyman could have done to make him feel more important and give him a bigger thrill than to sit on the seat with Lyman and drive those large mules home. He was so excited that he forgot what he had gone down there for.

Ina Poulsen tells the story of her toothache when she was a girl. It was a large double tooth, and it had ached for days. She finally decided that having it pulled couldn’t hurt any more than the ache, so she went to see Lyman Skeen. She walked down to his place in the evening and they were eating supper. She said he got right up from the table and didn’t even finish his meal to pull her tooth. Annie got the forceps and sat her in his large grandfather chair. Again, the Skeen kids scattered and hid from the noise. Ina did mention that she did holler and scream, but it was all over in a minute. She said he was really good at pulling teeth. It also gives some insight into the quality, character, and gentleness of Lyman Skeen.

ICE HOUSE

An Interesting part of the history of Plain City was the old ice house. It was located across from the school on the property where Clara Folkman now lives and sat behind the old home. In the winter when the Four Mile reservoir, river and other water would freeze hard enough, they would cut it with ice saws. They would then haul it by team and bobsleigh to the ice house for storage.

Peter M. Folkman owned and operated the ice house, and in the winter he would have as many as twenty men working for him. They would work through the winter and would fill a rather large building with ice. They would cover it with wild hay and sawdust so it wouldn’t melt so fast in the heat and it would last all summer.

They would sell it to the people of Plain City for their use in the old wooden ice chest, for making ice cream, mainly for parties, and for whatever else their need was.

MARTIN SMITH AND THE MEAT WAGON

One of the colorful characters that would come into Plain City was Martin Smith. He owned a team of skinny horses and a closed-in meat wagon, and peddled fresh meat from door to door. He would come into town two or three times a week. He always carried a green willow switch, and would open the meat box, and use the switch to chase the flies out.

The lady of the house would come out to the wagon and look over the variety of cuts, or I would imagine he would cut whatever they wanted. A favorite pass time of the kids of the days was to try and sneak weeneys when he was busy with their mother. He was a sharp enough businessman that he made sure he always got enough money to pay for the weiners.

It sounds rather primitive in todays worlds, but it filled a need and is another colorful chapter out of the past.

GEORGE MOYES AND HIS MILK TRUCK

George Moyes had the first milk truck in Plain City. He delivered the milk to some of the homes in Plain City. It was George that was coming home from the dairy and discovered the fire in the dummy had started and burned Charlie Taylor’s barn. He used his load of milk to help put out the fire. I don’t know of anyone today who wouldn’t like to own that little truck.

THE EARLY THRASHERS

A colorful time on the farm was thrashing time. The first machines were horse powered, and were a great improvement over the hand method. These colorful pictures are some of the early steam-powered thrashers. There were men who owned their own machines and would do custom work for their neighbors. When the thrashers would move onto a farm, it would usually take several days to complete the farmer’s field.

While the thrashers were at the farm, it was the responsibility if the farmer to feed the men three meals a day. This consisted of many of the neighbors who helped each other. They worked hard and they required large meals. The women worked all day long to prepare the meals. The phrase, “I have cooked enough food for the thrashers,” was probably coined during this era. The farmer had to take care of the horses also.

The men usually carried their own bedrolls and slept on the new fresh straw.

Arthur Skeen and Frances Thomas owned and operated thrashing machines that I remember.

THE GYPSY HORSE TRADERS

The horse trader would come into Plain City once or twice a year. They would arrive in large white-top wagons leading a large number of horses. Some of the camping areas where they would stay were; out by the beet dump, by the water tower, on the square, and in the lot across from the Lyman Skeen home where George Cook now lives. They would stay about a week and would camp or live in their wagons.

The kids were frightened at the sight of the traders and the week they were in town they placed close to home and never ventured far from home at night. The traders were famous for taking things that didn’t belong to them.

As a boy I can remember the trader camps and walking through them with my father. Because of the shady characters and the stories I had been told, I can remember of never letting go of my father’s hand. To see the people involved and the many horses there were, made a lasting impression upon my young mind.

If any of the townspeople needed a horse or team, or wanted to sell any horses, they would bring their horses, or come to the traders camp. They would barter, trade, or sell. In order to make a sharp deal they would dicker all day. There were many stories told of how sharp a deal they made or how badly they got stung by the horse traders.

LYMAN DUMP

There were two beet dumps in Plain City. One was located across from the water tower, the other was the Lyman Dump located one-half mile west of the canning factory where the railroad tracks crossed 5100 West. It was named after Lyman Skeen because of his work on the railroad to that plant, and on into Warren. John Vause was the weigh master and was more or less in charge of the dump. They would haul the beets with teams and wagons to the dump, where they would be loaded on to the rail cars and taken to Wilson Lane for processing. At times the cars were not available ad they would pile the beets by hand. The pile had to be six feet high and stacked just right. When cars were available, the factory would pay the farmers thirty cents a ton to load the beets by hand and then into the cars.

A story is told of a certain farmer that would bring beets to the dump. The drivers were supposed to stay on the wagon to weigh their beets over with the wagons loaded, and then back their wagons across empty. This farmer would get off the empty wagon, stay on the scales, but would reach up and take hold of a board on the scale house, and pull most of his weigh off the scales. John Vause used to say, “ Look at that fat old ____. He thinks he is fooling me, but I always take 200 pounds off whether he is on the scale or not,”

Mervin Thompson was there ad tells a story about Lyman Skeen hauling a large beet rack full of beets to the dump with a four-horse hitch. The lead team was fine large horses and the back team was large mules. The dump was elevated with a steep incline up to a platform where the wagon would stop and be unloaded. It was high enough to clear a rail car and the beets ran down into the car. The decline from the platform was steep. He made his approach with the team struggling to pull the heavy wagon up the incline. As the teams lunged forward down over the decline. Lyman sprang to his feet and held the mules back so the wagon rode up against the rumps of the mules, and he moved the lead horses out fast enough to keep out of the way. He never lost a sugar beet. It was truly a great display of fine horsemanship. It was truly his ability with the horses that saved him and his team from death or injury.

He calmly made a circle around to the approach incline and took the teams up the incline. This time he was ready for them and the mules and horses stopped where they were supposed to. As the teams came down off the decline, they knew they had been taught a valuable lesson by a skillful master.

THE SWIMMING HOLES

If anything in this world can turn a man into a boy again, it is the pleasant memories of the old swimming hole. The warm summer days with friends and the happy, carefree times are the most memorable in a life time. There seems to be a special magnetic force that pulls and draws boys to water. It is especially difficult to try and explain to parents that special force, and why it was so necessary to go swimming so much. We lived in the water and the longest part of the day was the one hour we had to wait for our dinner to digest before we could go in swimming again.

Every irrigation canal, pond, river, or creek had their favorite swimming hole. The favorite holes in Plain City were not by the First and Second Rock Crossing, the canal, but Four Mile, Draney headgates, and the Anderson hole in the river. The Anderson hole was located just below the Warren pump by the bend in the river and northeast of the bridges. One could tell by the number of ponies, wagons, and buggies, that there was always a large crowd, and from the laughter and the noise, you could tell they were having a great time. The Anderson hole was secluded enough, and no girls around. For the men and boys it was pure skinny dipping. If any boy had shown up with a swimming suit in those days, they would have laughed him out of town.

The Anderson hole was the place all of the men and boys took their Saturday night bath. George Knight tells the story that he counted 65 men and boys swimming at one time in the river. Sant Madsen was the oldest at 65, and there was a young boy of about 6 years of age.

Wilford, or “Wiff” Skeen was considered the most gifted and powerful swimmers around this country. During World War I he swam on a Navy swim team. Gordon Thompson and George Knight said that Wiff was the most beautiful swimmer they had ever seen. Fred Kenley, I think, was I the Navy and traveled throughout the world. He said in all his travels that Wiff was the best Swimmer he had ever seen. He would put his little brother, Dick Skeen, on his back and swim out into the middle of the river. Dick must have been real little then, but he would dump him off and make him swim to shore while he carefully watched. Someone lost a shovel in Anderson hole and Wiff dove down to the bottom and brought it up, supposedly the only man to ever touch bottom.

Ogden City, Swifts, and the By-Products, began to dump raw sewage into the river and ruined probably the greatest memory maker in all of Plain City. It just seems so strange that man has a habit of always destroying his own best things in life.

DRIVING THE COWS TO THE PASTURE

The people who milked cows for their own use or who later on milked cows to sell the milk to the creamery, would usually drive their own cows to pasture during the summer months. The pasture was located one, two, or three miles from home. It would require taking the cows out in the morning and returning them in the evening. This responsibility usually fell to the younger members of the family and required a cow pony. In those days everyone’s home, yard, and farm area were fenced so the cows traveling to and from the pastures did not create a problem. During the hot, dry summer weather, the roads and trails of the cows were very dusty. It was very difficult to follow the cows very closely as the dust was so heavy.

One of these pastures was called the West Pasture. It was located north and west from Ivan Moyes’ home. This pasture was owned by several different people. The number of cattle they would put in the pasture was based on the amount of the pasture that they owned. In the evening the first person to the gate would open it and let the cows out. The cows, from force of habit, would follow the same trail to the town park where they would feed. It was not uncommon to see twenty-five or thirty milk cows feeding on the square in the early evening. The farmers would go to the square, collect their cows, and take them home.

For those who played baseball, football, or just played on the square, there were some real hazards involved after the cows had been there.

Modern feeding and milking techniques have eliminated the need for the daily move to the pasture and also the need for the fenced-in yards.

CANNING FACTORIES

Another very important industry in Plain City was the growing and canning of tomatoes. The first factory built in Plain city was across the street from Loyd Olsen’s at 1900 North 4700 West. Laura Grieves Musgrave tells of working in this factory filling the cans with tomatoes. She was just a girl at the time, and expressed how happy she was to be able to earn money in those days. At that time there was no child labor laws.

Part of this factory was later moved near the square and used by the maw family for their store and other buildings.

The second canning factory still stands at 1975 North 4650 West, and was used for many years. The sandy loam soil of Plain City seemed to be ideal for the tomatoes to grow and helped to give them the flavor, quality, and yield that rarely can be equaled. Times were very tough to earn money in those days, and many men and women would work at the factory in the fall of the year to help supplement their income. This factory was built in 1925.

The empty cans would be shipped in by railroad and the processed tomatoes would be shipped out to the railroad.

The events that impressed my memories most about the factory, were the lines of loaded wagons and trucks waiting to be unloaded. While the farmers waited for boxes, or to be unloaded, or for their tomatoes to be graded, they would visit by the hour. The stories and the tall tales that would be told during that time will long be remembered. It used to fascinate me to watch the women peel the tomatoes. The full pans would be scalded and go around on a belt. The women would take a full pan, core and peel the tomatoes, and when the pan was full, they would put their number in the pan and return it to the belt. They were paid by the pan, and it amounted to five cents to ten cents a pan. In later years it raised from eight cents to ten cents a pan. The fastest peelers could peel about 60 pans a day.

Some of the fastest peelers were Dorothy Christensen, Thelma Hodson Wayment, Doris Hodson Chugg, and Ruth Arave Taylor, deceased. Whether peeling tomatoes, cutting potatoes, thinning beets, wall papering, or whatever, Ruth Taylor, as I remember her, had to be the hardest working woman I ever know. I always marveled at her ability.

Can your minds eye visualize the smoke coming from the tall stack, and the pleasant tomato odor that drifted along the air currents through the town of Plain City.

PEA VINERS – PEA WAGONS

One of the early industries, or cash crops of Plain City was from the raising of peas. It t must be remembered that in the very early times, the settlers were only interested and concerned about food to keep them through the winter. As they worked and improved their homes, the roads, and the irrigation system, their ability to products more and vary their crops increased. It was then that they branched out into the pea industry.

The main pea viner was located on 2200 north, about a half mile west of 4650 West, on the north side of the street. It provided work for some of the men of the community, to stack the pea vines. In the winter the farmers fed the vines to their cattle.

The farmers would plant the peas in the early spring, and the harvest would begin about the 4^th of July. The pea vines would be out with a horse-drawn mower. They would pitch them on a wagon and haul them to the vines by a team of horses.

As young boys we would look forward to the horse-drawn pea wagons on their way to the viner. We would run out into the street and catch the wagon, pull off a big armful of peas, carry them into the shade, and eat peas all day long. I don’t believe that peas gave you as severe a belly ache as green apples, but it ran a close second. More important, we were ready to go after the first wagon the next day. As a young man, I pitched the peas on the wagon in the fields, and off at the viner.

Later, another viner was built out east. It was located about one-half mile east of the water tower.

In 1949, I was building my house and my friend and neighbor, Louis R. Jenkins, would come frequently and visit. He said, “You have a nice location, but when the wind is right you may be able to smell the pea viner, but you know, that’s a good smell.” I never forgot his statement though the pea industry lasted only a very few years after that date. But, who could ever forget the potent odor that came after the vines and the juices fermented. No wonder the people who hauled pea vines had very little, if any, sinus problems.

Epilogue: Included should be the smell and the people who would haul the feed fresh beet pulp.

TRAPPERS

The Plain City area is situated where there was many creeks, drains, sloughs, ponds, and water areas for the muskrats to live. It seemed to me at one time to another, about every young man was involved in trapping. This could have been an inborn spirit in each young boy to be a trapper or a mountain man. The season would usually start in the fall until the water froze, and then again in the spring when the ice left. It came at a time when jobs were hard to find for young men and provided spending money for them. Trapping provided a good source of money for me when I was going to high school. The hide buyers would usually pay from thirty-five cents to a dollar and a quarter, depending on the size of the hide.

A good trapper could usually catch around 100 rats a day. I know one trapper that brought and paid for a new car during one trapping season. Some of the better trappers in Plain City that I can remember were, Elwin Taylor, Everett Taylor, Lyman Thomas, and Joe Wheeler.

NICK NAMES

Practically no one grew up in Plain City without having a nick name tacked on to him or her, because of something they did, said, or the way they acted, or some mannerism. It was not all uncommon for a group of Plain City boys, just to impress a girl friend, to talk and call the individual by their nick name, and the girls never knew who they were talking about. On the other hand, someone may come into the town and ask for Don Singleton, Darrell Christensen, Boyce England, Elwin Taylor, Horace Knight, LaGrand Hadley, George Cook, Clair Folkman, Lynn Folkman, Eldon Weston, or Jay Freestone, only to be told that they didn’t know anyone living here by that name. But had they asked for “Seebo, ““Breezy,” “Buzz,” “Bunny,” “Skinner,” “Gandy Goose or Pety Hadley,” “Joe,” “Ober,” “Homer,” or “Grass,” the townspeople could tell them right away where they lived.

Some of these people whose names will be mentioned have passed away, and it is my purpose to pay tribute, and add to their good names, rather than take anything away from them. Some have also moved away, but they got their name in Plain City.

There are so many names that I simply can’t remember them all, but here are a few: “Buss” Lyman Skeen, “Rip” Ronald Skeen, “Geg” Garry Skeen, “Brig” Orson Knight, “Snide” Elmer Carver, “Suitcase” Blair Simpson, “Huss” Harold Hadley, “Tubby” Frank Hadley, “Duke” “ Frog” Kenneth Christensen, “Fooz” Grant Lund, “Hazel” Kenneth Lund, “Bud” Richard Dallinga, “Cirk” Keith Lund, “Sodie” Elmer Hipwell, “Diff” Jack Etherington, “Tiff” Clyde Skeen, “Taa” Jack Freestone, “Sunny” Lyman Freestone, “Bub” Howard Freestone, “Cork” Carl Hodson, “Tumbleweed” Don Van Sickle, “Red” Lyman Cook, “Chic” Dee Cook, “Heater” Bert Cook, “Beef” Wheat Taylor, “Big Chub” Charles Fulmer, “Little Chub” Robert Fulmer, “Buddles” Rulon Jenkins, “Curley” Quenten Jenkins, “Bun” Ray Hadley, “Weiny” Dwaine Hadley, “Mustard” Bill Hadley, “Napkin” Dennis Hadley.

“Punken” Elmer Ericson, “Eif” Kent Jenkins, “Perk” Ray Coy, “Bear” Ronald Hogge, “Stinne” Wayne Skeen, “Hinke” Verl Rawson, “Toad” Loyd Knight, “Tarzan” Thayne Knight, “Dob” Blaine Knight, “Ikee” Ivan Hodson, “Grit” Dean Moyes, “Bud” Knight, “Lym” Skeen, “Beaver” Gordon Hadley, “Trapper” Durland Hadley, “Deddy” Darrell Thompson, “Pubby” Vernal Moyes, “Sam” Lyle Thomas, “Gonnie” Kenneth Woods, “Jim” Theron Rhead, “Mag” Noel England, “Jim” Elwin Skeen, ‘Bones” Bob Folkman, “Swede” Brent Taylor, “Curly” Davis, “Mayor” Dean Baker. “Wimpy” Loren Facer, “Tooley” Louis Poulsen, “Dick” Elwood Skeen, “Mud” Claude Rhead, “Weeser” Gene Lund, “Fiddler” Elmo Rhead, “Hook” Harold Hobson, “Roan” Harold Ross, “Mike” Milo Ross, “Wheeler” Keith Blanch, “Luke” John Nash, “Tom” Vandel Maw, “Joe” John Maw, “Judge” Thayne Robson, “Bushy” Wayne Cottle, “Pickus” Paul Coy, “George” Cliff Folkman, “Willie” Warren Williams, “Wally” Wallace Knight, “Cruzz” Kent Robson, “Evert” Bill England, “Tom” Merrill Jenkins, “Aus” Bob Wade, “Cougar” Norman Carver, “English” Wayne Carver.

Something more interesting than the names is how each one got their nickname. You should ask some of them sometimes. We should announce from Plain city to the world that we have had for the last 55 years, the original ”Jaws” Paul Knight. It is very distressing and disturbing to read where some outsider has taken the name “Jaws” and capitalized on it, made a film, and grossed more than 25 million dollars, when the original “Jaws” had been in Plain City all along.

When we analize the personality, the good times, and especially the stories, I doubt that anyone in Plain City would take 25 million from our original “Jaws.”

THE PEST HOUSE OR PRIMITIVE HOSPITAL

The constant underlying fears that pioneers and early settlers lived with daily was the threat of disease, illness, or sickness. There just weren’t any doctors or medicine available, and if anyone got sick, they either got well on their own, or they didn’t make it.

If a dreaded disease, or plague, as it was called struck the early settlers, many of them felt like it was God’s way of punishing them for things they had done or for the things they had not done. There were so many mysteries and superstitions concerning that, that people acted and responded in what now might be considered strange ways. The people felt the best thing to do was to isolate the sick people, and as a result of this type of thinking, the pioneers built the Pest House. To make sure it was really isolated, the people went about a mile west of town on the bank of First Creek and built Pest house. The Pest House was located on the bank of the creek. There were some tall poplar trees surrounding the building, but have since been removed. Clyde tells me that information was handed down and told to him about the spot where the Pest House was located. Years ago there was some evidence of a building there.

When a person got sick, they would take him to the Pest house to get better. They were usually left alone to care for themselves. Someone from the town would take food and water, and provide some care, but for the most part, it was just a kill or cure method. In most cases the patients, if they died, expired from exposure or lack of care rather than from the disease because the building was poorly constructed.

During the Smallpox epidemic of 1871, or about then, there weren’t any public meetings held in Plain City from September until the next March. The people lived in total fear of the disease.

The William Skeen family was hit very hard with Smallpox and they lost four children. It has been told that while his family was very sick, he called for the church and they were fearful, they refused to go help. His friends also turned away. This good man was left to bury his four children all alone, and some of them at night. He was so disappointed in the Elders of the church and his friends, that he left the church and he named one of his sons that was born later “Frenz Denial.”

IMPORTANT FACTS

Ivan Skeen Marsden and Lona Ipson Watson were the first lady missionaries to leave from Plain City in 1914. They served in the Eastern States Mission.
The first car reported to be in Plain City was Dr. Rich, who drove out to treat a patient.
It mentions that Richie owned the first car. Some of the other early car owners were Tom England, John Maw, Lyman Skeen, and others. Later, Lyman Skeen owned an eight-passenger Chandler.
Sammy Sampson was one of the early barbers.
There are seven children of original settlers living today in1977 that we know about. There may be others. Four of them live in Plain City. They are:

Ada Skeen William Allred

Victoria Sharp Hunt

Mary Sharp Richardson

Ivy Skeen Marsden

Lenora Skeen Freestone

Jennie Skeen Cook

Elwood “Dick” Skeen

It is remarkable when you think after 118 years that there are still children of the first settlers still living.

Richard Lund was the early fiddle player in the town.

LYMAN SKEEN, OWNER OF GREAT HORSES

Lyman Skeen owned and loved great horses. He had two large barns full of fine Stallions, besides many work teams that he used in his construction business. He worked in Utah, Wyoming, and Idaho, on construction building canals, road beds, and whatever. He knew horses flesh and people would bring their horses from all over the country to have him doctor their horses.

Lyman made three trips to Europe to buy horses. On one occasion, he bought six head of Shire horses in England and brought them by ship to the United States, and by rail to Ogden. He also brought a little Englishman named Tommy ____ to take care of the horses and train them.

When they arrived in Ogden Lyman took Blaine Skeen, Elmer Skeen, Orson Knight, and others to help bring the horses home. Orson Knight tells before they brought them to Plain City, they paraded them down Washington Boulevard. He mentioned that no boy could have been prouder to lead those large horses down Washington. He said the little Englishman walked beside the horses with a whip, and he would crack the whip and the horses would rare up and prance and put on quite a display for the large horses.

Sline was probably the greatest Shire horse to ever come into the State of Utah, or the West. The little Englishman is holding Sline in the picture.

The Skeen kids can remember frequently someone yelling “Sline’s out.” and he would always prance up through the lot. Lyman would send his boys out to catch Sline, but they never could catch him. Lyman would sit back and watch his proud horse run and exercise, and when Lyman felt like he had enough, he would walk out and up to Sline and lead him to the barn. Whenever Sline had been he left hoof prints about a foot square through the garden.

“SLINE” – Importe I Three-year-old Shire Colt

L. SKEEN

One of these big Shire horses died at the age of three days. It was raised on a bottle by Annie Skeen, wife of Lyman Skeen.

SAMMY SAMPSON THE BARBER

Sammy Sampson barbered in his home which was located across the street from Dell Sharp’s home. He was one of the early barbers. Byron Carver tells of getting his hair cut there when he was a boy. He said, “You could ask for any type of a cut you wanted, but you only got one cut, mostly bad,” I can see Byron chuckle ass a twinkle from the past came into his eyes. “Oh it was bad,” he said, “and as long as you had any hair left, Sammy would keep cutting.”

On one occasion he went to get his hair cut when it was hot and Sammy was cooking something that didn’t smell too good. Some of the men who had gathered were smoking El-rope-o cigars, and Byron was getting light headed as he sat in the chair. As Sammy worked him over he became more ill. Sammy soaped his neck and shaved it with a large thick, straight razor, that scraped more than it cut. Sammy kept a pan of hot water on the stove with a wash cloth on it that he used to wash the soap off. As he laid that hot cloth on Byron’s neck, Byron rolled off the chair and fainted dead away. When he came to, big Lafe Skeen was holding him on his lap. That was one hair cut Byron will always remember, and as long as he is alive the memory of Sammy Sampson the barber will live on.

Sammy charged 5 to 10 cents a haircut in those days, and trim and shave on the older men was 15 cents.

THE RACE TRACK, PLAIN CITY’S FIRST

William Skeen owned some very fine racehorses and he built a racetrack to train his horses. The neighbors would meet on occasion and race their horses to test the speed against their neighbors horses. Stories have been told that there were some very exciting races held at the track. It was located near four mile reservoir.

They tell the story of a man from Ogden, who was quite a footracer and he was supposed to have challenged and bragged that he could beat a horse in a certain distance. It was well talked up and word spread around, and the race was held. There was a little money that changed hands quite a crowd. But you know, no one can remember who won the race. It was another colorful time in early Plain City.

THE WEDNESDAY NIGHT SHOW

Growing up as a kid during the late twenties, thirties and into the early forties here in Plain City was quite an eventful time. It seemed that the world moved at a slower more relaxed pace and there was time to enjoy visiting and to crate your own entertainment and fun. Depression times were very hard for most families, with very little one and barely the necessities of life. There was very little money available for entertainment and if you had any entertainment, you created your own. They were carefree happy times. As a kid you were lucky if you got into Ogden once a month or even once during the summer. By comparison with today, all the entertainment seems to be provided for the young people and all they have to do is show up with money and everything is provided for them.

In the summer kids games and ball games were a very big thing and something was going on every day and night. Hide and seek, run sheepy run, kick the can, and whatever else anyone could think up were always popular. Skating and sleigh riding were the fall and winter games. You would skate all day and build fires at night so you could skate even longer.

Sometimes in the thirties the movies began to be very popular. Someone from Ogden would bring a movie out to Plain City every Wednesday night. It was held in the upstairs of the old church house and there would be two to three hundred people or more watching the show. The admission was ten cents and hardly anyone ever missed the Wednesday night movie. There was usually a serial episode before the regular movie and it would last for about weeks. It would lead you up to an exciting climax and then announce, “To be continued next week.” I can remember they would be the longest weeks ever, waiting to get back to the show to see what happened. Tail Spit Tommy always a big feature with the serials.

There were some very spooky shows and I can recall small kids screaming and crying, and they would have to leave the show. The shows were scary, but the spooky part was walking home at night after the show. You were always extra light on your feet, and with any strange sound out of the blackness of the night, you would be at a full gallop and double your stride. Ah, but they were good times.

The automobile and the war, and the latest movie hits in Ogden all led to the down fall of the Wednesday night show in Plain City. It was a colorful era in Plain City and one that everyone seemed to enjoy.

A TRIBUTE TO BETTY

Somehow the roads of Plain City look and seem a little different now days without the familiar figure of Betty. Her shopping bag in hand, her figure that time and age had bent a little, and limp that the years had brought on, headed up the road to Ogden. Time had also slowed her steps, but not her to walk to town.

Probably Betty was born fifty years too late to fit in well with a changing society. He life was the simple life, and her wants and needs were few. She was very string willed, proud, and stubborn in some regards. She was very determined not to be pressured into joining the modern world.

Some people say she was eccentric, old, strange, but she was a rugged individualist who refused to conform to anyones standards but her own. As a result of her ways the young people would sometimes tease and torment Betty. But in her own way she ignored them and went her way. Is it not strange that we from our own little worlds are so willing to unfairly judge other people by out own knowledge and standards. Especially if their standards and personality traits do not measure up or lower down to our own.

I wouldn’t begin to know how many thousands of times Betty walked to Ogden, and back with groceries, even after she was around seventy five years of age. I suppose before we could fairly evaluate Betty we should ask the women of Plain City how many times they have walked to Ogden, and back home. Their were many people who were good to Betty and wanted to help her, but she seemed determined and happy to do things her own way.

Betty was a hard worker and she worked for many people in Plain City. Later she worked in Ogden doing housework. I carried mail in Ogden for thirty years and would see Betty working at some of the finest homes in Ogden. Her family paid me a tribute when they asked me to speak at her funeral.

Betty will be remembered as one of Plain City’s remarkable characters. If we let our memories wander a little, and though our minds eye we might still catch a glimpse of a shadow of Betty walking to town.

Sunday, 5 May 2024 by Sagacity

History of Plain City Pt 7

History of Plain City March 17th 1859 to present, pages 107 through 122.

SCHOOLS

Poplar School

Submitted by Roxey R. Heslop

Poplar was a branch of the Plain City Ward and it received its name from the long rows of Poplar trees on both sides of the street.

The school district was organized in 1891. First school was held in the home of Peter McCue located about 3475 West 1975 North. James L. Robson was the first teacher followed by Mrs. W. Winslow and Myra Gray.

A room school house was built about 1894 at 3320 West 1975 North. This picture is not the Poplar school which had no windows in the front but on the west side and three was a wood shed at the back but it is very similar in many ways.

The teachers were Bessie Zinn, Blanch Bagley, Freed W. Dalton, Naomi Tracy, Emma Anderson, Sarah Stevenson, Etta Brow, Lottie Henigar, Minnie Rudiger, Melvina Wayment, Esther Steward, Welthy Lake, and Pearl Tracy.

The Poplar School House was the center of church and social activities. Sunday School was organized 3 Sept. 1894. Primary and Religion were held there.

Dances were wonderful. Everyone danced and the young folks were taught to waltz, two-step, quadrills, polkas, schottisches and others that were popular at that times. Richard Lund with his violin accompanied by his daughters, Annie or Alminda on the organ. Often lunch was served. Children’s dances were held.

The Poplar Lane people were like a united family. Everyone went to church and attended all social events. All the children played together.

Nearly all of the folks have gone but those who are left enjoy wonderful memories of the days of activity, associations and inspirations that was bought from the one-room school.

First consolidated public school. Built to replace the North, South, and Poplar Schools. It was built of adobe and located on the northeast corner of the square. It was used as a community and recreational center for many years after the second consolidated school was built.

Second public school after front door was sealed; new entrance was built on the east side when the gymnasium was added. Lunch room facilities were added to the west later.

Second public school after remodeling when front windows were bricked over but before later additions were made.

Interior of the second school, showing old wood and metal desks that were attached to long wooden planks.

CLASS PICTURE TAKEN IN THE POPLAR SCHOOL

Poplar school was a one room building. This picture was taken during the school term of 1901-1902 with Etta Brown as teacher. Later she married LeRoy E. Cowles who became the president of the University of Utah.

Top row: Emma Cottle, Elmer Robson, Ada Skeen, Williams Allred, Walter Cottle, Anzley Miller Luckart, Parley Taylor, Luella Cottle Stanger, Edmund Furnis, Alma Furnis, Laurence Cottle, Leslie Taylor, John Taylor.

Bertha Urry, Kate Urry East, Pearl Taylor Lund, Bertha Robson England, Alice Urry Wayment, Josephine Cottle Monroe, John Jackson, Elmer Taylor.

Roxey Robson Heslop, Manila Taylor Hancock, Emma Taylor Homer, Kate Kensley Nalder, Parley Stoker, Blanch Kenley, Drysdale, Unknown, Jessie Kenley Wayment, Evelyn Taylor Cottle, unknown, Martena Taylor Surrage, Merl Jackson, Zina Urry, Nellie Kenley Draney.

Some were too young to go to school and were brought for the picture.

Submitted by Roxey R. Heslop

This is the graduating class of 1907, Class of 1906-1907

Bottom Row

Pearl Taylor Lund, Lester Taylor, her brother

2^nd Row From Bottom

Kristina Grieve, John Quincy Blaylock, Principal

Lula Marriott Neal, Hazel Skeen Rhead

3^rd Row

Bertha England, Ruth Hodson Wheeler

Sylvia Richardson Singleton, Ruby Ipson Hunter

Jesse Cottle

Left to Right, Back Row:

Mable Palmer, Noland Taylor, Gilbert Maw, Leone Lund

Middle Row:

Iris Poulsen, LaVerna Davis, Principal John C. Neal, Florence Singleton, Ruth Poulsen

Front Row:

Clifton Kerr, Marion Sneed, Arvilla Taylor, Ellis Giles, Margaret Hunt, Gilbert Taylor, Harold Carver

PUBLIC SCHOOL BUILT IN 1906

This is located on the site of the present Plain City Elementary School.

It included elementary through tenth grade in later years. The last year the tenth grade was held in the school was 1947. After that, it remained in use as an elementary school.

The front windows were bricked over and later the front doors were bricked when the gymnasium was added to the east.

Still later, a cafeteria was added to the west. The building was demolished in 1955, leaving the later additions and adding a new addition of classrooms to the east that same year.

The students pictured at the bottom of the picture are enlarged on the3 following pages.

Weber County School District was organized in 1906-07. Plain City was dedicated in September of 1906.

The teachers are: John Quincy Blaylock, Laura Lamon, Rosabell O’dell and Elda Cooley.

1909, 8^TH Grade Graduation Class.

Back row L to R: John Taylor, Roxey Robson (Heslop), Easter Lund (Stevenson), Elvin Maw, Mildred England (Hart) (Robins).

Front row L to R: Lona Ipsen ( – ), Teacher John Q. Blaylock, Bertha Hodson (Bullock).

Enlargement of the students in the 1907-07 school picture on the preceeding pages, showing the center one-third of the students.

Early school buses were privately owned and used for summer vacations and school trips.

Enlargement of the students in the 1906-07 school picture on the preceeding page, showing the left one-third of the students.

L. Rulon Jenkins, teacher and Principal of the 1906 school during later years in the 30’s and 40’s.

Early classes held in the 1906 school during succeeding years. Dates and identities not known.

Early Plain City Class Picture Date and teacher unknown. We hope you can identify a parent or grandparent to make it more meaningful to you.

View of the 1906 school after the gymnasium had been added and more modern bus transportation used.

CLARA SKEEN THOMAS

SUBMITTED BY BEVERLY B EDDY

The Plain City School Hot Lunch Program was organized by Clara Skeen Thomas, wife of George Sidney Thomas. Clara Thomas was the first to start the Hot Lunch Program at the Plain City School 1923-1924.

She received $1.00 per day. She served vegetable and tomato soups, chip beef gravy on mashed potatoes and chili. These were purchased at the cost of three cents a bowl. With this money she received from the food, she would but the materials needed to prepare the next meal.

For years, she cooked and prepared the food at her home. She would have to take it up to the school each day. This would consist of three blocks each way. Later the school purchased a coal oil stove, which made it possible to prepare the food at the school. Each year the Hot Lunch program started in November and ended in March. Clara Skeen Thomas cooked and prepared the hot lunch at the Plain City School for eleven years and never missed a day.

SCHOOL LUNCH PROGRAM

L to R: Ivy Carver, Elizabeth Lund, Vacona Singleton, Tillie Moyes, Bell Woods.

SCHOOL BUS TRANSPORTATION

SUBMITTED BY ELMER ROSE

Oh what progress in education when in 1926, Weber High School opened its doors for County students. This high school is located on Washington Blvd. and presently occupied by the Adult Education Center.

Elmer Rose, of Warren, drove a bus to accommodate the northwest area of Weber County. Mr. Rose’s route covered several miles each day. He picked up all the high school students from Warren and both elementary and high school students from the south end of Plain City. He dropped the elementary students off at the Plain City elementary school. The student’s near the street car tracks were left to ride it to the high school.

Mr. Rose then continued his route through the North Plain City Road, back along highway 84 to within a reasonable distance from the car line. Then after passing the Harrisville along the route to Ogden limits.

On the route going to the high school, Mr. Rose picked up the Farr West Elementary students and delivered them to the Farr West School. He returned down the North Plain City Road picking up the elementary students for Plain City School.

The bus contracts to maintain and operate these units of transportation were awarded by bids. The lowest bidder getting the job if his outfit met the approval of the school board.

The inside of the bus had a bench on each side facing the center. The girls usually occupied these seats. In the center was a bench called a straddle seat. The boys were crowded together astraddle this bench.

The first bus was small and about 30 students were crowded into it. The students gave this bus the nickname of “Cracker Box”.

He often chartered his privately owned bus to take scouts, F.H.A. and other groups on excursions and other activities.

Mr. Rose removed the bus from its chassis during the summer so that he might use the truck for farm trucking.

This picture is of the second privately owned bus maintained and operated by Elmer Rose. This bus had a large capacity, accommodating about 50 students.

BUSSES LOADED IN FRONT OF WEBER HIGH SCHOOL IN 1926

The first buses to transport students to Weber High School in 1926 were operated and maintained by the individual owners. The contracts were let to the person whose bid was accepted by the Board of Education. Since these first buses were individually owned, the owners often used them for 4-H, temple, and various other excursions and activities.

Owners often used them for hunting trips. Family and friends slept in them overnight lodging away from home. The straddle bench was removed to make room for the bed.

Some owners removed the bus body from the chassis and placed another bed on the truck, so as to utilize it for farm trucking during the summer.

School transportation has evolved from the horse-drawn school wagon to the giant sized yellow school bus.

Today students ride to school fairly comfortable. The buses are warm, the seats padded, the radio plays popular music. These luxuries were undreamed of by the students who rode in the white top covered wagon, or the horse drawn sleigh in the midst of winter.

SUBMITTED BY RUTH FOWERS

SCHOOL LUNCH PROGRAM WORKERS

L to R: Hazel Kennedy, Mabel Moyes, Thelma H. Palmer, VaCona P. Singleton- Head Cook.

L to R: Principal Earl Cragun, Fern Hogge, Mabel Moyes, Norma Jensen, Hazel Kennedy.

Demolition in 1955 of the school building of 1906. This building had been in use continuously since that date. Many changes and additions had been added around it.

View of the new addition added in 1954-55 as seen through the rubble of the 1906 building and the construction equipment of the new building.

View of the Plain City Town Square from the roof of the school gymnasium.

Three view of the Plain City Elementary School as it stands today in 1977 with its many additions.

Sunday, 3 July 2022 by Sagacity

An Appalling Tragedy Occurred on the Morning of July Fourth

Several months ago I took my Dad and Step-Mother out to the Minidoka-Acequia-Rupert Cemetery north of Rupert Idaho. I had inherited 11 graves in the cemetery from the Phibbs family. 7 are together in one location, four in another. We were there on that occasion to pick out their final resting place. A somber experience if you think about it.

We walked around both sets of graves and picked out their preferred location. They picked out two graves that they wanted and we visited for a little while. While there, we looked at some of their future neighbors.

There were three graves that caught our attention. Older graves from 1917 in which it appeared all three had died the same year. Two male names and a female, we thought it looked like a father and mother and son. That raised enough questions that I researched them. Here is what is on the grave stones:

George E Davies 1908 – 1917

Hyrum E Davies 1879 – 1917

Mercy M Davis 1881 – 1917

The investigation began. It was not that hard to find their connections on FindaGrave as husband and wife and son. They had all died the same date, 4 July 1917, over 105 years ago.

I started researching the online newspapers for Rupert, Idaho. I found the Rupert Democrat from 4 July 1917 above. Here is the text of that article:

AN APPALLING TRAGEDY OCCURED ON THE MORNING OF JULY FOURTH

MR. AND MRS. HYRUM E. DAVIES AND NINE YEAR OLD SON GEORGE, WERE DROWNED IN MAIN CANAL NEAR ACEQUIA ON MORNING OF FOURTH.

BODIES HAVEN’T BEEN RECOVERED

Victims Were Enroute to the Minidoka Dam to Spend the Day Fishing When Auto Plunged Over the Embankment.

Mr. and Mrs. Hyrum E Davies and their son George, of this city met an untimely and deplorable death on the morning of July Fourth, when the auto in which they were riding skidded and plunged into the canal at a point in the canal road seven miles east of this city and one and one-half miles east of Acequia. Mr. and Mrs. Davies in company with Mr. and Mrs. R. S. Houghton and two small children were on their way to the Dam in Mr. Davies’ big Case auto, whey they had planned to spend the day fishing when the dreadful accident occured. Mr. Davies was driving and Mr. Houghton occupied the front seat with him and was holding his four year old son, the two ladies and Mr. Houghton’s two year old boy and the nine year old son of Mr. Davies occuping the rear seat; the car was running along at about twenty miles an hour, the rear wheel coming in contact with a rut caused the car to skid and the driver evidently lost control of the machine and before it was brought to a stop had plunged down the embankment and was submerged in eight foot of water in the middle of the canal. Mr. Houghton floundered out of the car and holding onto it with one hand succeeded in placing his little four year old son safely on top of the car. He then drug his wife from the car and assisted her to safety on the auto top also, the little eighteen months old son came to surface about twenty feet down stream from the auto a few seconds later and he (Houghton) quickly rescued it, after a strenuous tussle with the swift current in his efforts to return to the car.

Houghton kept close watch expecting to render aid to the other three when they appeared on the surface, but he watched in vain, the swift under current evidently took them down stream, at any rate Mr. Houghton is positive that none of the bodies appeared on the surface after he had gotten his wife to safety.

Mr. Houghton relates that before the car was completely submerged that Mrs. Davies collapsed and was firmly holding her son, George, in her arms, that the husband was attempting to get from under the steering gear and was reaching for his wife and it is the opinion of Mr. Houghton that the three were taken down the stream clinging to one another. Mr. Davies could swim but the weight of his wife and boy was too much for him to master.

Mr. Davies was an inexperienced driver, having purchased his car about one month ago. The emergency brake was set firmly when hauled out of the canal.

The Packham brothers, who were driving a buggy closely behind the car were witnesses to the tragedy, one of the young med hurriedly secured a rope at the home of L. A. Darr and succeeded in bringing the Houghtons to shore with the assistance of his brother and guard on the canal who had been attracted to the scene by the other young man.

A rescue party was soon organized after word had reached this city by ‘phone, and hastened to the place where the accident took place and a diligent search was kept up all during the day until a late hour at night for the bodies but at this writing none of the unfortunate victims have been recovered.

Mr. and Mrs. Davies had been residents of Rupert for the past three months, moving here from Salt Lake City in the early part of April. Mr. Davies was a carpenter by occupation.

As a result of the horrible disaster four little children will never again perceive the pleasures of a doting and solicitious father and mother. The surviving children, who were to spend their Fourth in Rupert at the request of their parents, include three girls and a boy, namely Virginia, aged fifteen; Gladys, aged twelve; Nelva, aged five and Erwin aged two. They will be cared for by their aunt, Mrs. A. G. Morris of this city, Mr. Morris being a brother of Mrs. Davies. Another brother, S. N. Morris resides at Salt Lake City. Mrs. Mollie Wheeler of this city is also related to the Davies family.

While the Davies family was not very well known in this city, their tragic and sudden death cast a shadow of sadness and gloom over our city which detracted from the enjoyment of the celebration to a noticeable extent.

The Houghtons are also recent new comers to Rupert, having moved here from LaGrande, Oregon, less than a month ago. Mrs. Houghton is a daughter of Mr. and Mrs. J. L. Workman of this city. The Davies family was in no way related to the Houghtons.

Mr. Davies was thirty-six years of age and his wife thirty-five. They were married sixteen years ago in Utah. They were members of the L. D. S. church.

I also found this article.

HYRUM E. DAVIES, formerly of Salt Lake, who with his wife and child, was drowned near Rupert, Idaho, yesterday.

AUTOMOBILE PLUNGE DROWNS 3 PERSONS

Former Salt Lake Residents Die When Machine Falls Into Canal Dam.

Two former Salt Lakers, ,Mr. and Mrs. Hyrum E. Davies, and their 4-year-old son were drowned in the Minidoka project canal near Rupert, Idaho, yesterday afternoon when their automobile plunged over an embankment. The bodies have not been recovered.

First word of the drowning was received in this city by Mr. and Mrs. E. J. Strong, 360 Ninth East street, Mrs. Strong being a sister of Mr. Davies.

Communication by wire with Sheriff Hiram Thompson of Lincoln County, Idaho, established the fact that early in the afternoon Mr. & Ms. Davies started for the Snake river dam, which diverts the water into the Minidoka project canal. They had with them their 4-year-old son, leaving the four elder children at home.

When a short distance out of Rupert Mr. Davies, who was driving the automobile, appears to have lost control of the car as it struck a deep chuck hole in the road. The vehicle went over the embankment into the canal, which at that point is about eight feet deep and 120 feet wide.

Persons driving along the road later saw the automobile in the canal and notified the officers. A searching party was immediately formed and the work of attempting to find the three bodies was begun. Up to the last reports received late last night no success had been realized in the effort. The search was continued and a screen was stretched across the canal at a point some distance below the point of drowning to catch the bodies in case efforts made by men on a rapidly-constructed raft should fail.

Mr. Davies had lived in Salt Lake City about thirty-five years and until six weeks ago, when he moved his family to Rupert, Idaho, was employed as a motorman for the Utah Light & Traction company. The family lived at 650 Ely avenue which is between Seventh and Eighth East and Seventh and Eighth South streets.

Surviving Mr. Davies are four sisters, Mrs. E. J. Strong and Mrs. David McCleery of this city, Mrs. A. Freeman of Ogden and Mrs. E. T. Knotts of Shawnee, Okla.

Mr. and Mrs. E. J. Strong left here for Rupert on the midnight O. S. L. train last night. Upon recover of the bodies they will probably be brought to Salt Lake for burial.

I was unable at this time to find any updates to the story for when the bodies were found or obituaries. I will update if I find that information.

Hyrum Edward Davies, born 12 August 1879 in Cottonwood, Salt Lake, Utah.

Mercy Mathews Morris, born 28 January 1881 in Salt Lake City, Salt Lake, Utah.

Hyrum and Mercy were married 16 October 1901 in Mercur, Tooele, Utah.

Hyrum and Mercy had five children, Virginia, Gladys, George, Afton, Erwin.

Mercy Virginia Davies, born 19 July 1902 in Salt Lake City, Utah, died 24 Ocober 1977 in Los Angeles, Los Angeles, California.

Gladys Orlean Davies, born 19 March 1905 in Salt Lake City, Utah, died 10 December 1964 in Las Vegas, Clark, Nevada.

George Edward Davies, born 8 March 1908 in Salt Lake City, Utah, died 4 July 1917 in Minidoka County, Idaho.

Afton Elva Davies, born 13 August 1911 in Albion, Cassia, Idaho, died 26 October 2001 in Orange County, California.

Hyrum Erwin Davies, born 8 March 1915 in Salt Lake City, Utah, died 15 September 1996 in Barstow, San Bernardino, California.

Sunday, 13 February 2022 by Sagacity

Coley – Christiansen Wedding

Herbert and Martha Coley holding Lillian in 1899

Ole and Constance Christiansen are pleased to announce the marriage of their daughter Martha to Herbert Coley, son of Stephen and Hannah Coley. They were married in 1874 in Norway. While I normally like to start these historical posts as a wedding announcement, I trip up there. We do not have any histories that give us an actual marriage date and location. Knowing the period, it is not imagined they were not actually married. Their first child was born in 1875. Curiously, after their immigration to the United States due to their conversion to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, they not only went to the Logan Utah Temple to be sealed, but also applied to be married. As such, they were married and sealed in the Logan Utah Temple on 26 April 1893.

Martha was born the second of eleven children to Constance Josephine Eliza Jorgensen and Ole Christiansen on 16 April 1879 in Fredrickstad, Ostfold, Norway. I have not written their history yet, but as linked above, I wrote some limited information on Constance when we visited her grave first in 2018 and again in 2020. Ole was born in Trogstad, Norway and Constance in Drammen, Norway. Both Ole and Constance were baptized and confirmed into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints on 26 January 1876 in Norway.

What happens for the next few years is unclear on the reasons. Martha’s older sister, Walborg, was born 24 December 1875 in Fredrickstad, then Martha in 1879. We really have no records during this period and so I am unclear if there was another child, or two, in that period of time. Eivelda was born 20 October 1881 in Melbourne, Victoria, Australia. I have no clue why or what took the family to Australia. Their next child, Constance, was born 9 November 1883 also in Collingwood, then a suburb of Melbourne. Apparently Walborg and Martha were left in Norway while their parents went to Australia. Alice, Martha’s granddaughter recalls Martha telling of her sitting on the mountainside overlooking the fjord waiting for her parents to return and her missing them terribly. Martha’s first brother, Henry Owen, was then born 27 March 1887 back in Fredrickstag, Norway. Ole and Constance were back in Fredrickstag by March 1887.

I have been unable to find the immigration records for the Christiansen family between Norway to Australia and back. But the family was in Australia for at least 3 years, maybe as long as 6 years. They were not back in Norway very long as Rhoda was born in Richmond, Cache, Utah on 18 September 1890. Martha moved with her family to Richmond in the late 1880s. One record has it in 1887, another 1889, Martha was listed in the 1900 Census as immigrated in 1888. Either way, we now are in the vicinity of where she would have met Herbert Coley. Of Martha’s remaining 6 siblings, 5 were born in Richmond and 1 in Hyde Park.

Herbert was born the 5th of 9 known children to Hannah Maria Rogers and Stephen Coley on 12 February 1864 in Lutley, Worcestershire, England. It was while living in Lutley that the LDS missionaries first made a visit. We do not know the conversion story but Herbert and his siblings joined the church. Martha joined 23 August 1867, Herbert 1 June 1881, George 22 August 1881, and Frank 2 June 1882. The 1871 English Census has the family still living in Lutley and Herbert listed as a scholar. The call to gather in Utah was strong enough that these four children made the venture. We don’t know if Stephen and Hannah came begrudgingly or not, but they joined some of their children in Utah. Unfortunately, the other children left in England we do not know where they went or what happened to them.

Herbert shows on the 1881 English Census in Dudley, Worcestershire, England as farm labor for the Doorbar family. Herbert appears to have boarded the Nevada in Liverpool arriving 3 July 1882 in New York City, New York. I cannot see that any siblings went with him on the trip. Stephen, Hannah, and Martha all traveled in 1890 (with Letitia Lea Willetts and her daughter Clara, and two known Frank and Mary Coleys). Stephen Coley was baptized 5 January 1892 and Hanna 26 October 1892 (same day she was endowed in the temple, so either that date is wrong or the prior record could not be found and the ordinance was duplicated. Hannah died 22 October 1894 in Franklin, then Oneida County, Idaho and was buried in Lewiston.

I don’t know any of the details of how they met, but the stars seem to have aligned in Richmond. However it happened, Herbert and Martha were married and sealed 1 December 1896 in Logan at the Temple. Herbert was a diligent laborer who would acquire full ownership in their home by 1910. Martha was a strict and involved homemaker and mother.

Herbert and Martha maintained their home, large garden, and raised 10 children. Lillian was born 26 August 1898 in Lewiston (listed in the Coveville Precinct, which is now the area of Cove). The 1900 Census on 9 June 1900 lists Herbert as a farm laborer with his immigration in 1881 and Martha’s in 1888. By 1910, the Census finds the family in Wheeler (about six miles west of Lewiston) where the home was owned outright. We don’t know exactly where the family lived. Edna was born 23 November 1900, Wilford Herbert 1 Mar 1903, Carrie 20 April 1906, and Hannah Marie 3 June 1909. Ole Christiansen passed away 27 February 1900 in Richmond and was buried there. Carrie is listed as born in Richmond, but we do not know the circumstances how she was born there instead of Wheeler/Lewiston. Hannah’s birth certificate lists Herbert as a farmer and Martha as housewife. The 1910 Census on 26 May 1910 shows Herbert as a Laborer and that he “Works Out.” Whatever that meant in 1910.

All the remaining children were born in Richmond. As such, it is likely at this time the family moved to the cabin south and east of Richmond estimated about 2016 E and 9000 N. I have tried to pinpoint where the cabin remains are still located. Here is a photo of the cabin from the 1980s. The 1920 Census on 16 January 1920 lists Herbert as a Farmer and Teamster with the additional insight of “Hauls Milk & Farms.” This same Census also lists Wilford as having his own Farm, but still living with his parents.

It was in this house that the remaining children were born. Ivan Stephan on 26 June 1912, Roland Charles on 20 July 1915, Oley Lloyd on 11 February 1918, Arthur Christiansen on 15 July 1921, and William Golden on 22 January 1924. In 2012 the home had collapsed to a pile of rubble. It was after Ellis Jonas’ funeral we visited as family (Ellis is Lillian’s son). Ellis had taken me there about 2002. Stephen Coley died 22 October 1913 in Lewiston and was buried by his wife.

The 1930 Census taker showed up 15 April 1930 and shows the family in Richmond with Roland, Lloyd, Art, and Golden still in the home. The 1940 Census on 8 April 1940 has the family still in Richmond with Art and Golden the only two remaining.

Over the years, the family kept busy with marriages. Lillian married Joseph Nelson Jonas on 6 September 1917 in the Logan Temple. Edna married Gerald Andrus 17 April 1921 in Richmond and after a short marriage, divorced, and remarried to Olof Alma Neilson 23 July 1923 in Logan, sealed 30 July 1924 at the Logan Temple. Wilford married Edith Dagmar Cammack 15 May 1924 in Logan, sealed 3 June 1946 in Logan Temple. Carrie married Joseph Lorus McMurdie 21 July 1924 in Logan, sealed 21 October 1926 in Logan Temple. Hannah married William Surgeoner Thomson 2 July 1927 in Logan, sealed 14 June 1972 in Salt Lake Temple. Ivan married Clara McMurdie 22 October 1930 in Buhl, Twin Falls, Idaho, sealed 10 February 1932 in Logan Temple. Joseph Jonas passed away 6 September 1932 in Ogden, Weber, Utah. Constance Christiansen passed away 10 December 1932 in Portland, Multnomah, Oregon and was buried there. Roland married Veda Anderson 5 May 1937 in Logan Temple. Lloyd married Verda Anderson (twin sister to Veda) 23 November 1938 in Logan Temple. Arthur married Gladys Bernice McMurdie (his niece!) 10 September 1940 in Preston, Franklin, Idaho, that marriage lasted a short time for hopefully obvious reasons. Arthur remarried to Mary Elizabeth Popwitz (his nephew’s WWII widow) 3 May 1946 in Evanston, Uinta, Wyoming. Golden married Shirley Mae Hall 15 March 1946 in Elko, Elko, Nevada, sealed 11 May 1965 in Logan. Many grandchildren were born in these years as well for Herbert and Martha.

Herbert and Martha Coley (I have the original of Martha, but not of Herbert, so I know it is still out there)

Recorded family stories are fairly scant. Nobody wrote much down and that generation was gone before many were asking questions. Ivan Coley told his daughter Colleen that Herbert was a short, very English man. Apparently Herbert met Wild Bill Hickok at one point and shared that fact regularly.

In 1942, Herbert went to visit Ivan and Clara in Buhl. I will have to find out if Martha was there as well. While out in the yard, I have been told by a well, or a trough, he slipped and broke his hip. There was not really much to do for someone in that condition then. He was in terrible pain. He was taken back to Richmond and passed away later of pneumonia. He died 7 September 1942 at age 78 (obituaries all have 75) and was buried in Richmond Cemetery 9 September 1942.

Martha Coley and Hannah Thomson in a garden, dresses and even a brooch

Martha moved into town shortly afterward. Various family members lived in the cabin when they started out their marriages. Martha’s new home was somewhere near 400 South and 200 East. With the new homes I cannot tell as well, but I have tried to pinpoint the spot. She lived in this home until she needed assistance and went to live with Lloyd and Veda in Salt Lake City. When they could not care for her any more, she then lived in a care facility in Logan the last months of her life.

5 generations about 1959, Lillian Coley Bowcutt, Martha Christiansen Coley, Joseph Hebert Jonas, Robert Lee Jonas, Joseph Leland Jonas.

In 1948, Martha was honored for successfully Relief Society Teaching for more than 40 years. Here is a photo from that occasion. You can find more detail here.

Back (l-r): Lydia Leavitt, Estella Blair, Sarah Preece, Susanna Allen, Livinia Wilcox, Clara Wheeler. Front: Lavina Poulsen, Christensia Hansen, Martha Coley, Martha Lewis, Sarah Snelgrove.

Unfortunately I do not have a many more stories. But I do have a few more photos. We have these two photos of a gathering about 1950.

Back(l-r): Doreen Neilson, Martha Coley, Golden Coley, Edna Neilson, Unknown, Gloria Neilson holding unknown child, Olof Neilson. Middle: Shirley Coley, Joy Coley (baby), Mary Coley,

Mary (holding Joy), Shirley, Doreen, Unknown, Martha, Edna, Gloria

This wonderful family reunion picture from 1955. I have linked the other post sharing the other photo. That link also names everyone in the photo. Martha is sitting surrounded by her grandchildren and children.

Herbert’s obituary in the Salt Lake Telegram on 8 September 1942 reads:

“Richmond, Cache County – Funeral Services for Herbert Coley, 75, who died at his home in Richmond Monday at 7:45 a.m. following a brief illness will be conducted Wednesday at 1:30 p.m. in the Richmond South L.D.S. ward chapel by E. M. Hicken, Bishop.

“Mr. Coley was born in England on February 12, 1867, a son of Stephen and Hannah Rogers Coley. In 1885, at the age of 16, he immigrated to the United States.

“On December 1, 1896, he married Martha Christiansen in the Logan L.D.S. temple. He was a prominent farmer in the Richmond district.

“Surviving are his widow of Richmond, 10 sons and daughters, Mrs. Lillian Jonas, Ms. Edna Nielsen and William Golden Coley of Richmond, Wilford Herbert Coley of Logan, Ms. Hannah Thomson and Lloyd Coley of Salt Lake City, Ms. Carrie McMurdie, Ivan, Roland and Arthur Coley, all of Buhl, Idaho, 37 grandchildren, three great grandchildren, and a sister, Mrs. Martha France of Richmond.

Lillian, Edna, Martha (sitting) Coley in the 1940’s

“Friends Pay Tribute to Richmond Man

“Funeral Services for Herbert Coley, 75, prominent Richmond farmer who died at his home in Richmond, Monday at 7:45 a.m. following a brief illness, were conducted Wednesday at 1:30 p.m. in the Richmond South ward chapel by Bishop E. M. Hicken.

The rest of the article follows nearly verbatim what the Salt Lake obituary listed, then this line.

“Burial was in the Richmond cemetery under direction of the W. Loyal Hall mortuary.

Martha Christiansen Coley very small picture enlarged

Martha passed away in Logan at age 82 on 14 August 1961. Here is the language from her obituary and an article of the funeral. She was buried in Richmond 17 August 1961.

“Richmond – Martha Christensen Coley, 82, died at a rest home in Logan Monday of causes incident to age.
“She was born April 16, 1879 in Norway to Ole and Constance Josephine Eliza Jorgensen Christensen. When she was eight years old she came with her parents to America.
“On December 1, 1896 in Logan she married Herbert Coley. The marriage was solemnized in the Logan LDS Temple in 1900. They made their home in Lewiston and Richmond. She was always active in the LDS church, especially as a Relief Society block teacher. Mr. Coley died September 7, 1942.
“Surviving are Mrs. Lorenzo (Lillian) Bowcutt and Mrs. Edna Neilsen, Richmond; Wilford H. Coley, Logan; Mrs. William (Hannah) Thompson and Lloyd O. Coley, Salt Lake City; Mrs. Lars (Carrie) McMurdie and Ivan S. Coley, Buhl, Idaho; Roland Coley, Mesa, Arizona; Arthur C. Coley, Ogden; William G. Coley, Hyrum; a number of grandchildren and great grandchildren.
“Funeral services will be held Thursday at 1 p.m. in the Richmond South Ward with Bishop Oral Ballam in charge.
“Friends may call at Hall Mortuary in Logan Wednesday from 7 to 9 p.m. and at the South Ward chapel Thursday from 11:30 a.m. until time of services. Burial will be in the Richmond Cemetery.

“Funeral services were held in the Richmond South Ward chapel Thursday for Mrs. Martha C. Coley with Counselor Quentin Peart conducting. Lloyd Coley gave the family prayer.
“Prelude and postlude music was played by Reese Murray. The ward chorus directed by Mrs. Florence Lewis with Mrs. Billie Lou Bagley as accompanist sang “The Lord’s Prayer.” Ila Rae Richman and company sang “That Wonderful Mother of Mine.” Mrs. Florence Lewis and Mrs. Rebecca Lewis sang “In the Garden,” and Ronnie Lewis sang “Beyond the Sunset.”
“Prayers were by William Thomson and Larus McMurdie. Speakers were Mrs. Leona McCarrey who read the obituary, Noel Stoddard and Counselor Peart.
Pallbearers were her six sons, Wilford, Ivan, Roland, Lloyd, Arthur and Golden Coley. The grave in Richmond Cemetery was dedicated by Joseph Jonas. Flowers were cared for by the Relief Society.

I have written previously about the video that came from the funeral and graveside service of Martha. In that post I walk through the video and the identified individuals. It also scans the 10 children standing in the cemetery. This photo below is of the same instant.

Art, Golden, Wilfred, Roland, Lloyd, Edna, Hannah, Carrie, Lillian, Ivan at their mother’s grave in Richmond, Utah

I hope some day I obtain more photos to share of Herbert and Martha.

Sunday, 26 April 2020 by Sagacity

Milo Ross 1997 Interview

Interview of Milo Ross

Wayne Carver

08-13-1997

Tape I – A

University of Utah Veterans Commemoration in 2009

Wayne: Okay. I’m at Milo Ross’ home in Plain City, which is just through the lots from where I grew up at and the date is what, August the 13^th?

Milo: Probably the 13^th today.

Wayne: Wednesday August 13^th. This is tape one, side one of a conversation I’m having with Milo.

(tape stopped)

Milo: Should have put on there Plain City.

Wayne: Oh, well, I’ll remember that. But I have trouble if I don’t do that little preliminary stuff, is I get the tapes mixed up. You have a quiet voice, so I think I could find a book or something to – oh—

Milo: Here’s one right here.

Wayne: Just to prop this –

Milo: How about this? What do you need?

Wayne: Just something like this.

Milo Ross in uniform at Fort Lewis, Washington

Milo: Oh

Wayne: Since I want –

Milo: Here’s some more book. You know, you said you was talking to Aunt Vic Hunt. I’ll tell you a story about her. She’s over to the rest home, see. Yardley, he came in and he says – he and an attorney came in and he says, Mrs. Hunt, he says, you sure got a rhythm out of heart. He says, you gotta start moving around taking it a little more easy, don’t hurt yourself. She says, “listen you young punk.” she says, “Why don’t you tell me something I don’t know anything about. I’ve lived with that all my life,” she says.

Wayne: Well Paul – or Milo, can I just ask you a few obvious questions for the — and then – can you tell me your full legal name?

Milo: Do you wanna start now?

Wayne: yeah.

Milo: My name’s Milo James Ross.

Wayne: And what date were you born?

Milo: February the 4^th, 1921.

Wayne: So, you’re two years older than I.

Milo: Born in ’21.

Wayne: Right, I was born in ’23?

Milo: ’23.

Wayne: Yeah. Where were you born?

Milo: Plain City.

Wayne: And who were your parents?

Milo: My mother was Ethel Sharp Ross. That’d be Vic Hunt’s sister. Ed Sharp’s sister, Dale Sharp’s sister. My dad was Jack Ross. And he came from Virginia. They came out west and settled over in Rupert and Paul, Idaho. When they found out they was gonna have a sugar factory in that area. So, they run the railroad track a ride out. What they really done, they bummed their way out on the railroad, flat cars at that time. They was bringing coal and stuff out from Virginia out into that country. And Dad and Grandad and all the relatives that could decided to come out. And that was the only way they could afford to come out because nobody had any money. So they settled around Paul and Rupert, Idaho area. And that’s where my dad met my mother, Ethel Ross, because she had that store I was telling you about in Paul.

Wayne: Yes, go back and tell me again for the tape how your mom got up in Paul running a store.

Milo: Well, the – when they were going to work and back and forth from Plain City in to Ogden, they used to ride the Old Bamberger track out here. And when they – when the first came out, they had a – it was an electrical trolley car, you probably remember it had an arm on top that had –

Wayne: Right, yeah.

Milo: — Track. I remember riding the car once and I was down to Wilmer Maw’s helping them unload coal and stuff like that out of the boxcars down there. But that old dummy car used to bring them cars down there. They had a spur at Wilmer Maw’s store and also at Roll’s garage. Stopped right there.

Wayne: That’s right, yeah, I remember that.

Milo: Then they used to ship vegetables and stuff out from the railroad track from there out. But mother was going to Ogden on this – I don’t know how – how you call it a Bamberger Track Car, Trolley Car, or whatever you call it. But when they got making a turn and transferring, probably around 17^th street in there where they used to be the headquarters, they got bumped and some of them got knocked down and hurt. I never did find out how bad my mother was, but the railroad company settled out of court and give them all so much money apiece, the ones that got hurt.

Well, my mother, she knew of a place in Paul Idaho that had some property. She decided to go there and buy that little store front and live in Paul, Idaho, because she married this Mark Streeter at that time. Maybe you remember him.

Wayne: oh, yes, yeah.

Milo: Mark Streeter. They went into Paul, Idaho and –

Wayne: Was she married to Mark?

Milo: She got married to him –

Wayne: When the accident occurred:

Milo: No. not – not – just after.

Wayne: uh-hu.

Milo: But she got the settlement and he found out that she had the money and everything and she had gone to Idaho, so I figured he – he probably figured she was a rich old dog, he went to Idaho to marry her.

Wayne: I see yeah.

Milo: So he went to the – up the store, Paul, Idaho, up there and they got married. And then they had a child, June Streeter, that lived with Dale Sharp, if you remember, for a long time.

Wayne: Yeah, vaguely.

Milo: But – and then she stayed with the Streeters in Ogden most of her life, June did. And then the war broke out, World War I. Mark Streeter, her husband, joined the army and left my mother, Ethel Ross, Sharp Ross Streeter, abandoned in Idaho without a husband with this daughter, and he never did return. So after so many years, my dad met my mother in Paul, Idaho at the store because the Ross had come there to work at the sugar factory from Virginia, the grandparents and the whole family, Phibbs and the whole – lot moving out, have a moved out down to there to try to get work. So that’s how my dad met my mother was in Paul, Idaho, because they had Streeters confectionery. And that’s (unintelligible).

Wayne: Did your mother have no contacts up at Paul? Were there Plain City people or-

Milo: That’s something I never did know because Uncle Ed Sharp never told me.

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: See, I was – mother came back here after she married dad, Jack Ross, we lived down by Abe Maw’s in an old log cabin house.

Wayne: With your father and mother?

Milo: Yes, Jack and my mother, Ethel. And then mother got sick with childbirth. There was – here mother had Milo – well, she had June to start out with Streeter.

Wayne: With Streeter, yeah.

Milo Ross in Canada 1986

Milo: And then she had Milo, my name, Milo James Ross, with Jack Ross, dad. And then there was Paul Ross.

Wayne: Little Paul?

Milo: Paul Ross, the blond, he fell out of Ed Sharp’s barn, broke his arm, fell on his head and concussion and he died when he was about 11 or 12 years old.

Wayne: I remember that, yeah.

Milo: And that was up at Ed Sharp’s barn. Then there was Harold Ross, and then baby John Ross. But John Ross died at childbirth with female trouble. And that was down in Abe Maw’s property where the old log cabin house was.

And then when Mother died, my Dad, he had no way of feeding us down here because he’d come from Idaho down here with her to come back to live in Utah around her folks. They decided to – he didn’t’ know what to do. He couldn’t feed us. So he went to each one of the Sharps families and Os Richardson ad everybody else and they said they wouldn’t help him.

Wayne: Os had married Mary—

Milo: Mary –

Wayne: –yeah.

Milo: — Sister to Ethel.

Wayne: Mary Sharp.

Milo: So – and Ray Sharp, he didn’t want us. Over in Clinton.

Wayne: Oh, I didn’t know him.

Milo: Well, he was Ed Sharp’s brother. There was Ed Sharp, lived out here, and Dale Sharp.

Wayne: Right.

Milo: But it was hard times for everybody. They didn’t have no money to feed nobody extra.

Wayne: This would be in the twenties?

Milo: That would be back in nineteen twenty – I was born in ’21 and I was five when I come back here, when they brought – the Sharps brought us back here from going back to Idaho. But when I was five, my dad took us to the hot springs and carried us kids – took us to the hot springs, and put us on an old – I don’t know whether the church built a railroad track into Idaho or not. But they got on a dummy or a car and they went into Paul, Idaho, from the hot springs at that time.

Wayne: And you went up on that?

Milo: Yes.

Wayne: And –

Milo: My dad?

Wayne: — Harold.

Milo: — Harold.

Wayne: And Paul.

Milo: And Paul.

Wayne: And you went back up to Paul?

Milo: Paul, Idaho. I was – I was in the neighborhood about four years old at that time when he took us back.

Wayne: Now, he went with you?

Milo: He took us back there because dad – Grandpa and Grandma lived in Paul or Rupert, right in that area.

Wayne: Grandpa and Grandma –

Milo: Ross.

Wayne: –Ross?

Milo: Ross.

Wayne: Okay, yeah.

Milo: And they was from – Where’d I tell you?

Wayne: Virginia:

Milo: Virginia.

Wayne: Uh-huh. And how long did you live up there?

Milo: About a year. But you see, there was no money to feed kids. They couldn’t buy groceries and stuff. They came out here poor people.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And they was working at the railroad – sugar factory trying to make a dollar. And Mother, she figured maybe send the kids – when she got sick, send them back up to Grandpa and Grandma. And see, Grandpa and Grandma was old and they couldn’t take care of us, so she – she just couldn’t make a go of it with the store and because she was sick, you know, with childbirth. And then they – I don’t know what they done with the store and everything back up there, but it really wasn’t a lot, but still it was a place they was making a little money.

Wayne: But had your mom passed away by –

Milo: Yes.

Wayne: – – When you went back?

Milo: Yes.

Wayne: Did she die down here?

Milo: She died in the log cabin house.

Wayne: So she’s buried in the Plain City Cemetery?

Milo: Right on Ed Sharp’s lots next to Ed Sharp and his wife. (Telephone rings.) Let me catch that.

Wayne: Can I borrow – –

(Pause in Tape.)

Milo: … Ross and gas station there at five points. And this is his boy, Nick Kuntz, married this Rhees girl and the lived right across the street.

Wayne: I probably know her aunts and uncles up in Pleasant View.

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: Beth and – –

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: – -Dorothy and – –

Milo: See, her dad helped build these homes here for Jones when they built this housing unit when they bought that ground from Blanch Estate there.

Wayne: Oh, the Wheeler – –

Milo: Wheeler Estate.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: But I was telling you about my mother.

Wayne: Yeah

Milo: Go ahead and tell me what you want.

Wayne: No, that’s fine because I don’t know this story. Harold told me some of it years ago, but – –

Milo: But – – are you still on tape?

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: I’ll tell you a little bit more about dad and mother. My dad, he always walked to work. They had no cars then. They had horses and buggies and that’s about all. And he walked from Plain City over to Wilson Lane to work at the sugar factory.

Wayne: Oh, yeah.

Milo: And let Folkman – –

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: – – Mark Folkman, them guys used to walk through the fields to Wilson Lane every day.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Or ride a horse.

Wayne: Yeah, that’s four miles or so.

Milo: Four or five, yeah.

Wayne: Four or five, yeah.

Milo: Used to go over there to work at the sugar factory.

Wayne: Yeah

Milo: And whenever they come home or anything like that, they’d bring groceries and stuff home and carry it, you know, they – – nobody had transportation at that time. But it was tough for everybody. You don’t – – you talk about money, there was no money. They used – – they used scrip money, you remember, for a long time they give them kind of a paper money. If you took a veal or something to town, they’d give you scrip money for it, and then you could trade it back for groceries.

Wayne: Can you remember the scrip money?

Milo: Yes.

Wayne: I don’t think I can.

Milo: I’ve got – – I’ve got some papers and stuff like the stamps they used to save, sugar stamps and stuff – –

Wayne: During the war.

Milo: During the war – –

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: – – You had to have a stamp and stuff like that.

Wayne: Remember those tax tokens:

Milo: I saved – –

Wayne: Plastic – –

Milo: I tacked some of them with a hole in them, you know.

Wayne: Yeah

Milo: They called them Governor Blood money or something, your dad did – –

Wayne: Yeah

Milo: – – Mr. Carver. But there was no money for nobody around the country. And my Dad tried to feed us kids when we went back to Idaho wit Grandpa and Grandma. And they was – – they was probably like some of us today, didn’t have shoes – –

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: – – You know what I mean?

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Hard going.

Wayne: Did your Dad go back with you to Paul

Milo: He rode back to Paul and stayed back there. He worked at the sugar factory for a long time with Grandpa.

Wayne: Uh – huh

Milo: And the Phibbs, there used to be a Judge Phibbs that married into the Ross Family. And they stayed in that area there for a long time. But I’ve – – my son now, Paul Ross, Milo Paul Ross, he’s – – he lives in Paul, Idaho.

Wayne: Oh, does he?

Milo: And it’s quite a coincidence, you know, and – –

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: – – I went back and I was gonna try to buy the building, one thing another, but it’s so hard to get the records and everything. But I do have the records and plot plan and some papers of my mother’s.

Wayne: Is the old store building – –

Milo: The old – –

Wayne: – – Still there?

Milo: The old store is there. I wanted to try to buy it, but Paul, Idaho, wants to restore the – – that street. Kind of run down, dilapidated, you know. They don’t wanna do anything right now until they get the money to go ahead and do things like that with it. But my dad called and said for the Sharps to come and get the boys because they couldn’t feed us. So that’s why Ed Sharp, Dale Sharp, and Fred Hunt, Aunt Vic Hunt, they took each one of us a kid. Ed Sharp took me Milo.

Wayne: Uh – huh.

Milo: Dale Sharp took Harold.

Wayne: Right.

Milo: And Fred Hunt, that would be Aunt Vic, my mother’s sister, Vic Hunt, they took Paul. And then June, she stayed with the Streeters all the time.

Wayne: Now, they’re in Ogden.

Milo: In Ogden.

Wayne: Uh – huh

Milo: So that’s how – – that’s why June didn’t stay here with us all the time.

Wayne: Now, this Streeter business, did – – Mark you say disappeared.

Milo: Right.

Wayne: Did he never come back?

Milo: He came back later on in years. He went as prisoner – – He went A.W.O.L.

Wayne: Uh – huh.

Milo: Do you understand me?

Wayne: Yeah

Milo: They called him a traitor of the country. They figured he spied against the United States.

Wayne: Was he overseas?

Milo: I don’t know.

Wayne: Good heavens, I – –

Milo: But, you know, you hear these stories.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And then in World War II, he done the same thing. He collaborated with the Japanese out of San Francisco, see.

Wayne: Good Lord.

Milo: Yeah, Mark Streeter. But he says he didn’t, but he did. You understand me?

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: He – – He seemed like he always had his nose with the enemy. You understand what I mean?

Wayne: Yeah

Milo: Trying to make money that way.

Wayne: What did he do to make a living when he came back?

Milo: He’s just a dog catcher, something, picked up side jobs, Mark Streeter.

Wayne: Of course mother had divorced him then – –

Milo: right.

Wayne: – – on grounds of desertion.

Milo: desertion.

Wayne: Okay

Milo: That’s why she married my Dad.

Wayne: Right.

Milo: But, see, Dad called the Sharps and asked them to come and get the kids. So that would be in the wintertime they come and got us, and Ed Sharp took me, Fred Hunt took Paul, Dale Sharp took Harold.

Wayne: And June?

Milo: Stayed with the Streeters.

Wayne: In Ogden.

Milo: Grandma Streeter.

Wayne: And she was – – she was a Streeter. Her father had been Mark Streeter.

Milo: My sister is a Streeter. I’m a Ross.

Wayne: Right.

Milo: We’re half.

Wayne: Yeah. Is – – is June still alive?

Milo: June’s still alive. She lives down in California.

Wayne: I don’t think I ever knew her, but I’m sure she was in Plain City a lot.

Milo: She stayed around with Fern Sharp all the time.

Wayne: Oh.

Milo: They used to come out and stay there. And – –

Wayne: When she went – – when she came down from Paul and you guys went to the Sharps, she went – – did she stay with Mark Streeter then her father.

Milo: Mark Streeter’s mother.

Wayne: Oh, not with Mark?

Milo: Well, Mark Streeter lived with his mother.

Wayne: Oh.

Milo: Do you understand it?

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And, oh, you remember Christensen, lives down by the store.

Wayne: Pub?

Milo: Yeah

Wayne: And Cap – –

Milo: He – – he lived down below Jack’s garage. But he had a brother that lived up by – – Ralph Taylor lives there now.

Wayne: Well, Cap Christensen – –

Milo: Cap Christensen.

Wayne: A – – (Unintelligible)

Milo: That was Cap, wasn’t it?

Wayne: Yeah, that was Cap.

Milo: Yeah. But you see, they had a daughter, would be Harold Christensen and – –

Wayne: And Max.

Milo: Max and all them – –

Wayne: Artell.

Milo: Artell.

Wayne: (Unintelligible)

Milo: Artell used to run around with my sister, June, and Fern Sharp – –

Wayne: Oh.

Milo: – – The three of them. You probably remember them together.

Wayne: I just spent an afternoon with Fern.

Milo: Did you?

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Fern Sharp?

Wayne: Yeah. Shields.

Milo: Yeah

Wayne: Well, I’ve got that straight at last then. But do you know how long Mark Streeter was away before he came back?

Milo: Mark Streeter must have been away about four, five years, a deserter of the country.

Wayne: I wonder what he did in those – –

Milo: They – – they figured he was a traitor to the United States.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: But he said he was sick in the hospital. They – – I really never did know.

Wayne: Yeah. I wonder if anyone does.

Milo: The only way you could ever find out would be to go through court records.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Weber County.

Wayne: Yeah. Okay. So that you’re with Ed, Paul’s with – –

Milo: Fred and Vic.

Wayne: – – Fred and Vic, and Harold’s with Dale and – –

Milo: Violet. She was – –

Wayne: Violet.

Milo: Her name was Violet Grieves before she married Sharp.

Wayne: Oh.

Milo: She’d be related to Pete Grieve and them.

Wayne: Uh – huh

Milo: And they would be related to the Easts in Warren. And Ed Sharp’s wife was East from Warren.

Wayne: She was.

Milo: So see, there’s kind of a – –

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: – – Intermarriage through the – – each family down through that line down – – but when Dad told the Sharps to come and get us out of Idaho, they came up to get us. And I was about five years old when they come. And before – – before we was ready to come home to Utah again, us kids was playing in bed and I got a – – a fishhook caught in the bottom part of my eyelid here.

Wayne: Good Lord.

Milo: And I was only maybe five years old and – –

Wayne: yeah.

Milo: – – I remembered it. And I can remember my Grandpa telling me, do not pull, leave it alone, leave it alone, and he said, I’ll have to get you some help. So, they went and got some help and these guys come back and I heard one of them say, you take his feet and I’ll take his arms. You know. And somebody else hold his head. So, what they done, they – – they – – I think they must have cut the hook or something and then reversed and took it out. I don’t know what they done. But it was caught in the bottom of my eyelid. But they – – I was sore of that when I come to Utah. And then when – – I don’t know whether Dale Sharp was with Os Richardson when they come up to get us or not. But they come up in a big car to Paul, Idaho, and they brought us home across the Snake River at Paul, between Paul and Rupert there someplace to bring us back home. And every so often, I’d look back and I – – I thought I could always see Grandpa and Grandma and my Dad waving goodbye to me.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And farther down the road we got, it seemed like we were always stopping, the car had trouble or something, tires or something. Putting water in it and that this – –

Wayne: This is Os and Mary’s car.

Milo: Yes.

Wayne: Did Mary come up?

Milo: I don’t remember whether Aunt Mary was with us or not. I don’t remember who was in the car, but I do remember Os Richardson because he was kind of a heavyset man and he was quite blunt.

Wayne: Yeah, I remember him.

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: He was our neighbor down at Warren.

Milo: Yeah

Wayne: Yeah

Milo: He was quite blunt. And he’s – – I figured him a mean man.

Wayne: Oh.

Milo: And when I’d wave, he’d also say, put your arm down, you know, don’t distract me, and this and that, you know.

Wayne: Yeah

Milo: But we rode in the back seat, but I’d look back and didn’t matter which hill. I could see my Grandpa and Grandma.

Wayne: Yeah. Yeah.

Milo: But it was quite an experience. We came home and they.

Wayne: How old you were then, Milo?

Milo: Five years old.

Wayne: Five.

Milo: But they – – they brought me back and give me to Ed Sharp. And they took Paul down and left him with Fred and Vic. And then they took Paul – – Harold down and give him with Dale Sharp. But I think Dale Sharp went us with us – – them to bring us back. And we were only within what, two or three blocks of each other, and yet I couldn’t go see him. They was afraid I’d run away.

Wayne: Oh

Milo: So I was kind of quarantined, you know, and you’ll get to see him on the weekend. You know, they was trying to separate us.

Wayne: Could be, yeah.

Milo: And when Paul come here, he had a hernia down right this side of his groin. And when he’d cough or sneeze, it’d pop open like a ball inside.

Wayne: He’s just a little boy.

Milo: Little boy. And it would pop open and they had kind of a – – like a leather strap or something around there and a pad around it to kind of hold it in – –

Wayne: A truss.

Milo: – – Truss or something.

Wayne: A trust, yeah.

Milo: But it was tough for us kids.

Wayne: I’ll bet it was tough.

Milo: It was tough.

Wayne: You – – you were the oldest.

Milo: I was the oldest, five.

Wayne: Five and – –

Milo: Four and three.

Wayne: Harold was four – –

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: No, Harold was – –

Milo: Paul.

Wayne: Paul.

Milo: And Harold. Five, four, three.

Wayne: Five, four, three. Yeah and June was maybe six?

Milo: She was probably two years older than us.

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: Three, I don’t remember just what.

Wayne: Did you ever see your dad – –

Milo: Yes, sir.

Wayne: – – Again:

Milo: After the war, I went into the service, World War II, and I received a letter from Livermore, California, and it stated that my Dad was a veteran, World War I, and he was in Livermore, California not expected to live over maybe a week, three, four days. And he would like to see one of his boys if they’d like to come and see him before he died. And the Sharps and everybody told me leave him alone because he was a no good man. He never cared about us.

Well, I’d married my wife, Gladys, and we had this son, Milo Paul, but her dad Donaldson says, “Heck, Milo, if you wanna go down see your dad,” he says, “I’ll give you the greyhound bus fair down. $55, $80, whatever it is.”

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: He said you’ll have to thumb your way back. I said, well, if I get down there I’ll get to see him, that’d be fine. I asked my wife, if it would be all right to go, and she said yes.

Wayne: Were you living in Plain City?

Milo: Living in Plain City. And we were renting at that time just a house, you know. And I says to Dale Sharp and them, I says, I thought maybe I’d go down and see my Dad. And they says, forget about him. Him he’s no good son of a bugger, you know, they called him by a name – –

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: – – So I decided to go and I went to Livermore, California, and I jumped a ride out with an army truck and to Livermore, California, Hospital. I got there late – –

Wayne: Was this an army hospital?

Milo: Yeah. Veterans’ Hospital, Livermore. And I got there late in the evening. And nothing was going around and nobody was doing anything, it was on the weekend. So I go into the hospital and nobody’s around so I just kind of walked through the – – it was late and maybe 1:00, 1:30 in the evening, night. And I walked down through the halls and went up on the second floor and walked down the aisle a little bit, and I thought, well, maybe what I better do is just sit here in the corner, and maybe have a catnap for a while. Then I heard somebody cough, and heard them say, “what time is it?” And somebody said, “it’s about 1:30, 2:00 o’clock,” see? So I heard this talking and I walked down the hall a ways and I seen the one light on one of the beds and I says – – stepped towards the door, and I says, “Does anybody happen to know a Jack Ross or anybody in here, is anybody here can hear me?” And a voice come back and it says, yes. “Come on in, Milo or Harold. I’m your Dad.”

Wayne: Oh, boy.

Milo: And I walked right to that man’s door.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And It’s – – And about that time, two guys grab me by the arm and escorted me out of the room. And they gonna have me put in jail because he had no visitors. You understand me? He was on oxygen and this and that. So I says, “Oh, what difference does it make?” I said, “I’m his son. I don’t remember my dad.” I says “At least you could do is let me tell him goodbye. If he’s gonna die, what difference does it make?” So these two orderlies says, “you stay outside for a while.” So I stood there by the door and they hurried and they put some needles and stuff in his legs. Was probably giving him morphine or something. I don’t know what they were doing, trying to do keep him alive longer, something, I don’t know what they were doing. But I says to the one gentleman, he run past me fast, and I says, “Couldn’t I just say goodbye to my dad anyway?” And he said, “Well, just wait a while.” So pretty soon there was about three of them over my dad working with him, and finally the one young man says to the rest, he says, “Oh, let the kid come in and say goodbye to his dad.” So I walked in, talked to dad. He says, “I’m sure glad you come.” And I said, “Well, I’m Milo.” And I said, “I don’t remember you, Dad,” but I says, “I decided after reading the Red Cross letter I would come and see and you tell you hello. Tell you thanks for letting me have a Dad, anyway.”

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: So he says, “Well, Milo,” he said, “I’m gonna tell you a secret.” He says, “When I took you kids to Idaho, I was a son of a bitch.” Then he says, “When I got into Idaho, he says, I was a son of a bitch.” And he says, “It didn’t matter what I done, I was a son of a bitch.” He said, “Then they told me if I ever come back to see my kids after I sent you down to Utah, they would kill me.”

Wayne: The Sharps told him?

Milo: The Sharps. I says, “Which one of the Sharps?” And he says, “It’s best not to say, Milo.” But he says, “I’ll tell you secret, if you don’t think I ever come to see you, ask Betty Boothe.” He says, “You remember Betty Boothe?” And I said, “She’s been in my home, many, many, many times.” And he says, “I come out in a taxi cab three times, and I got Betty Boothe to go with me to see you kids.” And he said, “I rode out to Ed Sharp’s Farm and I didn’t dare get out of the taxi. Because I – – I was threatened I’d be killed.” So he says, “I did wave out of the taxicab and sit there and watch you out in the field,” us kids. And says, “If you don’t think I did,” he says, “ask Betty Boothe.” And then I got a different feeling towards my Dad – –

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: – – when he said that.

Wayne: Yeah, I can imagine.

Milo: Because I could see – – now I have letters that was sent to the Sharps and the Hunts and they hid the letters from us kids. They would not tell us that Dad and Grandpa sent us letters or anything. And I have these letters. And in these letters it’s Grandpa and Grandma asking please, tell us how the little kids are. And then my Dad, he wrote a letter and he says – –

Wayne: Now, were there – – they up in Paul all this time.

Milo: Paul, Idaho, all that time.

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: But the Sharps and them, they’d never read us the letters and everything because they – – they wanted us to be with them. The Sharps and Hunt. Do you understand?

Wayne: Yeah, I understand.

Milo: Kind of hard – – but I have those letters.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And when – –

Wayne: He was thinking about you a lot more than you thought he was.

Milo: Well, this is the bad part about life. Now, Aunt Vic Hunt, when Fred Hunt died, Howard Hunt got killed in the war, her son – –

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: – – Fred Hunt got – – died. Bert Hunt, their son, got electrocuted and Bob, the grandson, got electrocuted.

Wayne: I remember that.

Milo: The night before they got electrocuted, I helped Bert Hunt carry the milk from the barn to the milk parlor where Bert and his boy got electrocuted. And I helped carry that milk cans the same as they did the night before.

But Aunt Vic Hunt says, “Oh, Milo, she says, I just feel like I – – I’m being punished for something.” She says, “I’ve got a box here that came from you folks.” And she says, “I’ve got all these letters and everything.” She says, “I’ve read them. And I’ve never told you about them.” But she says, “I’m not gonna give them all to you now, but I will give you some of them.” So she give me some of the letters. And she had kind of an old cigar box. Remember the old cigars boxes with a lid on it? And she says, “I’ll give you this, too.” She says, “I think maybe I’ve been punished long enough now.” She says, “I’ve lost too many in my family. Maybe I’m being punished because I haven’t been fair to you kids.” She says, “Here’s the box, the gifts and everything they’ve sent to you.” I says, “Aunt Vic, if that means that much to you,” I says, “You keep the box. And then when you’re dead and gone, you tell your family to give it to me.” But I says, “I will take these letters. And I sure love you for it. And thanks for being good to us kids.” And I says, “Gladys and I will go now.” My wife was with me. She was really brokenhearted. I told her she was forgiven and everything. I says, “Live you life out.” I done a lot a work for aunt Vic after that. Helped her wire the house and anything went wrong, I’d go help her, help her, help her, help her, help her.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: But when she – – she died, the family never did give me the cigar box of stuff back. They kept it. And I think today Archie Hunt probably has it.

Wayne: Now who would – – who is he?

Milo: That would be Vic Hunt’s boy, grandson. Bret Hunt – –

Wayne: Oh.

Milo: – – That got electrocuted. This is my wife and daughter, if you’d shut that off a second I’ll help them.

(pause in the tape.)

Milo: The letters and stuff that my wife and I got from my aunt Vic Hunt. And when I read them, I – – I felt a lot better towards my dad and my family because it’s – – they wanted to separate from us that Ross family altogether. But I have an old, old bible on the Ross side that’s a great big hardback bible from Virginia. And I have a half-brother back there. And my dad had married a day lady back there. When my mother died, he went back to Virginia to see if he could make ends meet to bring the family maybe to Virginia. But he couldn’t make a go of it with the day. And this son of his, Hobart Day, he told him about having a family here, Milo, Paul, and Harold, and John that died. Well, all these years, Hobart, the half-brother back there, instead of keeping the Ross family, he kept the Day family. So he kept the old bibles and everything back Virginia at the home back there. So I got Hobart, after I made contact with him after doing genealogy work after the war, then he – – I bought his way out here, him and his wife out here twice to visit with us. And he brought this old, old bible out here and it’s one of the King James, I’d say it’s about five, six inches deep, hardback. You’ve probably seen them.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: But I that have of the Ross Family there, but it’s quite a deal, you know.

Wayne: Did you ever see your Ross grandparents?

Milo: Not after. See, they were old and feeble.

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: I never even got to go to their funeral. That’s what makes it bad. But my brother, Harold Ross, his wife, Colleen Hancock, she done a lot of genealogy work and she’s the one that got us together on genealogy to get the Ross family back to Virginia.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And Hobart Day, the half-brother.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: But it’s – – and then I have – – I have my grandparents’ old china cabinet. And I have the old wooden washing machine. And I have the old cream separator they used to turn the handle on.

Wayne: Now, Which grandparents?

Milo: The Ross and the Sharps.

Wayne: After the – – your Ross grandparents passed away?

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: And Paul.

Milo: Yeah, I’ve got part of their – –

Wayne: How did you get those – – That?

Milo: Through the – – through the people in Idaho.

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: See, they – – they set them aside.

Wayne: In the ward – – well, they weren’t church members, were they?

Milo: No. They were Presbyterians. They were not LDS. But I have this old wooden wash machine. I’ve recent – – redone it and put it together. Made new stays for it so every part works on it and all the metal.

Wayne: Did you go up and bring them back?

Milo: No, they were given to me from Paul or Rupert, Idaho. On the Phibbs side family or something like that.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: So I do have – – And then on the Grandma Sharp side, I have parts of her old stuff, too, books and stuff. I have my mother’s records of Paul, Idaho store where they – – where they sold eggs, a dozen eggs like for two and a half, three cents.

Wayne: A dozen.

Milo: A dozen.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Yeah. They – – It’s amazing. I have – – I have a lot of old antiques and stuff. Before you leave, I’ll show you lot of my old antiques and let you see the washer and stuff like that.

Wayne: I’d like to see that.

Milo: Then maybe someday you’d like to come by and take a picture or of them or something. Or you can talk to them – – while we’re looking at them, talk to us.

Wayne: While we’re on family, your mother was a Sharp.

Milo: Ethel Sharp. Her dad was – – they lived where Ernie Sharp lived. Milo Sharp.

Wayne: Oh, yes. Now, was it Milo – – Milo Sharp was one of them group that separated from the church, was he not? And they became Episcopalians.

Milo: Right.

Wayne: Do you know anything about the cause of that split?

Milo: One Bishop.

Wayne: Really: I’ve not been able to pinpoint it.

Milo: The way I understand it, they – – they asked them to pay a tenth of the tithing of everything. And he – – he told them if they killed a beef, he wanted a certain part of that beef.

Wayne: The Bishop told them?

Milo: The Bishop.

Wayne: Do you know who the Bishop was?

Milo: I think Thatcher. Does that sound right?

Wayne: That sounds too late. Gil Thatcher was Bishop, we’re back in 1869 and ’70 when this Schism, this Split, so it wasn’t Gil Thatcher.

Milo: Well, I don’t know for sure.

Wayne: Shurtliff, maybe.

Milo: I was back in that area. But the Bishop at that time, the Hunts excommunicated from the church also. Fred Hunt, Vic Hunt, all them, they went to Episcopal Church.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: They build the Episcopal church down by Dean Baker’s there. They use that for the Lions Club now.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: My mother used to be the organist for it for many years, they said.

Wayne: Your mother Ross?

Milo: Uh-huh. But she was a Sharp, Ethel Sharp.

Wayne: Of course, Sharp.

Milo: She was a Sharp. She played the organ for them when she was younger. And she played the organ and kind of led the music and everything like that.

Wayne: You know, Vic didn’t know for sure what had caused – – it was her father, Milo.

Milo: Right, Milo.

Wayne: And he – – she said, oh, Wayne, they liked their – – to play cards and they did a lot of things that church didn’t like and they just finally got tired of it. But I think there was some – – something somewhere.

Milo: It was over – – it was over the meat. Dale Sharp – –

Wayne: Uh – huh.

Milo: – – Took care of Harold and Ed Sharp took care of me. And Ed Sharp gave the church an awful lot. He used give them the asparagus, he used to give them potatoes. When they harvest or anything like that, he’d say, Bishop Heslop, Bishop Maw, whoever the Bishop was, come up and get sacks of stuff for some of the people. But Ed Sharp and them, they always give to the Mormon church.

Now, when they built the Plain City church down here, they used to sell cakes and stuff, raffles.

Wayne: The new one?

Milo: The new one.

Wayne: That’s gonna be torn down.

Milo: Yeah, but I – – see, I helped build that. I was a carpenter on it and Lee Carver was the supervisor on it. And I was – – George Knight was the Bishop on it. But when they auctioned these cakes and that off, Fred Hunt was probably one of the ones that bought the cakes probably more than anybody. He probably paid four, five hundred dollars for a cake.

Wayne: Yeah, yeah.

Milo: So you see, it wasn’t religion against religion because they did – –

Wayne: Not by that time.

Milo: – – They were together.

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: But the earlier Sharps and some of them, And I think some of the Taylors pulled away from the church, too – –

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: – – And they went farther east.

Wayne: The Thomases.

Milo: Thomases, they pushed out, too, on account.

Wayne: But then they slowly worked back.

Milo: Come back in.

Wayne: Yeah. As a little guy then living in a family that was not LDS – –

Milo: Right.

Wayne: – – What was your religious upbringing, Milo?

Milo: Never had much. We did go to church.

Wayne: To the LDS?

Milo: No.

Wayne: Or to the Episcopalian?

Milo: Episcopalian – –

Wayne: Really.

Milo: When we went to Idaho, see, they didn’t have a Mormon church there. See, the Presbyterian, whatever it is. But I’ve got some of my mother’s song books and stuff, some of the old songs books.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: They sing the same songs there as we do today in our church.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: It’s kind of nice.

Wayne: I can remember as a kid, we would hear the bell ring, the bells – –

Milo: Yes.

Wayne: – – Ring, and we’d run down to the end of the lane – –

Milo: To look at it.

Wayne: – – And look at the people going to church.

Milo: Uh-huh.

Wayne: But that – – those were – – those were only maybe once a month or whenever the minister could come out – –

Milo: Yes.

Wayne: – – From Ogden. And that someone told me, I think, oh, Leslie’s wife, Ruth – –

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: – – Poulson, that there was a lady lived out in Plain City, lived in that house where Leslie and Ruth lived, who was kind of she – – the representative of the Episcopalian Church, and she taught school.

Milo: Uh-hu.

Wayne: Did you go to that school?

Milo: I didn’t.

Wayne: Might not have been around when you – –

Milo: If you reach down there to your right side down there’s a little tiny book right there.

Wayne: This one?

Milo: I got a lot of little books like that. That book right there came from Huntsville. That came from the Joseph Peterson’s library in Huntsville probably, huh?

Wayne: Yeah, yeah.

Milo: But I’ve got – – I pick up all these books and stuff like this when I’m out around traveling, and I buy them and get them.

Wayne: Yeah

Milo: Now, I’ve got a lot of books like this and I’ve got a lot of mother’s books and stuff where she’s wrote poetry and stuff. My mother wrote a lot of poetry. And Albert Sharp got almost all the poetry and everything of my mother’s. So if you got on the Sharp – –

Wayne: I did talk to Albert, but I didn’t see any of your mother’s poetry.

Milo: She wrote a lot of poetry.

Wayne: Uh-huh. Well, that was probably true of Harold growing up with Dale Sharp – –

Milo: Non Mormons.

Wayne: But Harold went to Mutual with us.

Milo: We went to Mutual.

Wayne: You went to Mutual.

Milo: I went to Mutual.

Wayne: Uh-huh. And Harold became a member of the LDS Church.

Milo: Right. So did I later.

Wayne: Do you know – –

(End of Tape I-A.)

Wayne: …Of a conversation with Milo Ross in Plain City.

Milo: See, when we were – – When we went to school, we – – they’d always ask us to go to Sunday School or Mutual or whatever they had.

Wayne: Primary.

Milo: Primary.

Wayne: Did you go across the square – –

Milo: Yes.

Wayne: – – to – –

Milo: Yeah, we always – – he went anyway.

Wayne: Sure.

Milo: You know, because everybody kind of went together. Then we went to Weber High. I took Seminary.

Wayne: You did?

Milo: So – – well, Ruth took Seminary too. Your sister, Ruth.

Wayne: Oh sure. So did I.

Milo: So we took – – we took Seminary – –

Wayne: Floyd Eyre.

Milo: – – Together. We took seminary from Mr. Eyre, he was the principal, he was the teacher of it. But, you know, I enjoyed – – I enjoyed listening to the stories. Then I enjoyed taking the assignments, reading certain scriptures and things that they give us.

At that time, they did not press the Book of Mormon like they do now.

Wayne: No, I think that’s true.

Milo: See, And – – But I enjoyed it.

Wayne: And Ernie didn’t object to this?

Milo: Nobody ever – – nobody ever objected to anything.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: It’s like the Martinis and the Ropalatos in West Weber, I’ve done a lot of building for them. The old grandpa and grandma and them guys, you’re not gonna convert them, but you see the young girls and the young boys are joining the Mormon church.

Wayne: Uh-huh, yeah.

Milo: See, the Martini girls marries the Dickemores that’s Mormons. So see they – – but the old – –

Turn that off just a minute.

(Tape pauses.)

Milo: …Truck – – truck and trailer all loaded. And I seen aunt Vic get hit. She came up to the stop sign from the west side and she stopped. And then she went to go across the road, and when she went to go across the road, there was a car came from the north, I’d say hundred miles an hour, some young girl. And the young girl was gonna pass her on the front as aunt Vic went ahead. She throwed on her brakes a little tiny bit and she got caught Aunt Vic back, just back of the door, back of her car. And that throwed Aunt Vic’s car around in a spin and the young girl come right on down to where I was at watching it.

Wayne: Where were you?

Milo: I come from the south. And see I – – I seen it all.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Well, I knew it was Aunt Vic’s car, and this young girl, she come down to road, and she was unconscious laying over the steering wheel. And she come down the road, so I pulled off the side the road so that she wouldn’t hit me, then she made kind of a slump over on the wheel and she pulled to the right side and got off the side the road and that’s where her car stopped. So I opened the door there and a kid come up on a motorcycle and I said, run back down to the store on your bike, motorbike, and get some ice and let’s put on her and see if we can revive her. So the kid, he went back and got ice and the called the cops and that. I told them to call the cops. And he come back with this bag of ice and I was putting ice and that on when policeman came, and she came to by that time.

Wayne: Now, is this the young girl or Vic?

Milo: The young girl.

Wayne: Oh. Where’s Vic all this time?

Milo: She was up at the intersection about 50 – – oh, a hundred, hundred feet farther up the road.

Wayne: In her car.

Milo: In her car. But she had spun around and she had went on the east side of the road facing south.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: It spun her completely around.

Wayne: Didn’t tip over.

Milo: Didn’t tip over. But I seen it.

Wayne: Yeah. Her sister Mary was with her – –

Milo: Yes.

Wayne: – – That day, I talked – – and I did – – I asked Vic what was it like growing up in Plain City as a not only a non Mormon, but as the daughter of one of the ringleaders in the separation. And she said, oh, made no difference. She said, I never had any prejudice. And Mary wouldn’t agree with her. Mary said they looked down on us.

Did you ever have any sense of being looked down on because you were not a member of the church?

Milo: I don’t think anybody ever looked on any of us.

Wayne: Did you hear Vic or Dale or any – – or Ed – –

Milo: Nobody ever – – nobody ever looked down on the church.

Wayne: Did the church look down on them?

Milo: I don’t think so.

Wayne: Dad was a great friend of Ed’s.

Milo: Every – – they were the closest buddies in the world.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And Joe Singleton.

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: You dad and Ed Sharp and Joe Singleton was probably the first appraisers and supervisors of the home loan administration or something like that, weren’t they?

Wayne: Dad as a – – worked for the assessor’s office.

Milo: Okay.

Wayne: In Weber County.

Milo: That’s why they got Ed Sharp and Joe Singleton to work with him then.

Wayne: Oh, I guess, yeah.

Milo: But they went around and appraised property and one thin another, when these guys was trying to get home loans for farms and stuff.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Now, when they got the loans and stuff like that, they got them on a loan, real low interest rate. And then when they settled my grandmother Sharp’s estate and one thing another, my estate money from my mother’s side, us kids being young, they decided instead of giving us kids the money, the one that was taking care of us would get the money and they could put – – apply it on their home loan – –

Wayne: Oh.

Milo: – – To keep their farms because a lot of people was losing their farms because a lot of people was losing their farms at that time.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Mr. England and some of them had lost their farms, you know, and the Maws and some of them, they’d – – that’s when the banks went broke.

Wayne: Right.

Milo: And so when they settled the estate and one thing anther, my share went to Ed Sharp. And Harold’s share of his when the split it up amongst us kids went to Dal Sharp. And Fred Hunt took Paul’s share, see?

Wayne: Right.

Milo: And they applied that to their home loans. To keep them from losing their farms. Then after Ed Sharp, these guys die, Vic settled the Sharp Estate on their side, Ed Sharp’s Estate, and Ed Sharp’s girls and boys, they didn’t wanna pay me back the loan that they had taken from me as a youngster. They said I wasn’t entitled to it because I hadn’t applied for it. You know, they go back to the legal deal.

Wayne: Yeah, yeah.

Milo: So I says, well. I’m not gonna fight nobody. But I said,tell you what I’d like you to do. Why don’t you just pay me four or five percent interest on it all those years.

Wayne: Just give you the interest.

Milo: Yeah, but it was kind of a sore thumb.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: I told them I don’t care.

Wayne: It was a loan that you had made without knowing it.

Milo: I – – I didn’t know anything about it.

Wayne: Right. That’s an odd way of handling that, you know, anyway – –

Milo: Well – –

Wayne: – – If it should have been put in a trust of some sort and the – – so you would be sure to get it.

Milo: I didn’t really want it because I helped my uncle Ed save his farm that raised me, you understand?

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: So I – – I said, oh, he was good enough to give me a home, I don’t care.

Wayne: Just to – p for the tape and to jog my memory, who were Ed’s kids? I remember liking – – there was Ruby.

Milo: Louise, start with Louise.

Wayne: Okay. She the oldest.

Milo: Louise.

Wayne: Louise.

Milo: She married Ralph Blanch.

Wayne: Oh, okay.

Milo: Florence, married Nielson.

Wayne: From Taylor?

Milo: West Weber, Taylor.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Leonard Nielson.

Wayne: Did he used to pitch.

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: Yeah, stiff-armed and – –

Milo: Yeah. And then there was Marjorie, she married Ferrel Clontz, big tall guy, went to Idaho.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Then there was Ethel Sharp.

Wayne: I remember Ethel.

Milo: She married Garth Hunter. Then there was Ruby Sharp. She married Norton Salberg. There was Milo Sharp. You remember Milo Sharp.

Wayne: Mutt?

Milo: Mutt Sharp.

Wayne: Okay.

Milo: That’s Milo.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And then there was Dean Sharp – – no, there was Josephine.

Wayne: Josephine.

Milo: Josephine Sharp, she married Darwin Costley, Paul Costley’s brother.

Wayne: uh-huh.

Milo: Then Dean Sharp, the baby.

Wayne: Dean.

Milo: Dean Sharp. And Louise took care of Dean when Ed’s wife passed away.

Wayne: Oh, who was Ed’s wife.

Milo: She was Lilly East.

Wayne: Right, okay. From Warren.

Milo: From Warren.

Wayne: Yeah?

Milo: Yeah

Wayne: So there were two Milos in your house.

Milo: Both Milo, Milo Ross and Milo Sharp.

Wayne: Right.

Milo: I was older. Now, they had another son, Elmer Sharp, that died young with scarlet fever or something, around 12 or 13 years old, but I don’t remember him. When we were kids at that – – living with Ed Sharp’s at that time, they had diphtheria, they had different things that they used to have this doctor that used to come out, Dr. Brown or somebody, and they’d always give us a shot and medicines and stuff, you know.

Wayne: Yeah. So how – – you were – – you were five when you went to live with Ed?

Milo: I was five when they brought me back down here to live with Ed Sharp, five.

Wayne: So those kids were your brothers and sisters in effect.

Milo: Not that close.

Wayne: Weren’t you?

Milo: Un-unh. They always – – I don’t know, they – – they felt like Ed Sharp showed me a little more prejudice or something. When he got his truck, I got to jump in the truck and go with him once in a while to feed the cattle and stuff, do you understand that?

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: Then had he his truck and he’d – – he’d get the neighbors they’d all get in the truck and go for rides and camp overnight up in the canyons. And they used to go down to Warren, pick up the Easts and Caulders. And they used to get in this truck and they’d go up to Pineview Dam, up to the wells – –

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: And they’d stay overnight.

Wayne: The old artesian wells.

Milo: Uh-huh.

Wayne: Yeah, before the dam.

Milo: And Jack Singleton, do you remember him?

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Now, Ed Sharp, he had a salt mine out at Promontory. And he used to – – he used to run that through the winter and harvest salt. And I was with Ed Sharp – – you got a couple minutes: I was with Ed Sharp once when we was coming back with a load of salt from Promontory up on the hill, and there was a place there we always stop and get a drink. And there was a note there. And Uncle Ed read it and this Charlie Carter, and old hermit out there, that used to prospect, mine, and one thing another, decided to end his life so he jumped down in the well and killed himself. So Ed Sharp and I went down the railroad to Promontory, and Uncle Ed had them – – done something on teletype or wherever you call it, code, and they sent a message back to Brigham City to Sheriff Hyde, and he came out and told us to stay there until he came back out. But they – – they took ropes and everything and lowered lanterns down in this here well. When they’d get down so far where uncle Ed was down there trying to tie the rope around Charlie Carter, these lamps would go out. No oxygen, I guess – –

Wayne: yeah.

Milo: So – –

Wayne: But body was there, huh?

Milo: It was down in there.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: But Uncle Ed Sharp, after he went down in there and tried it a few times, the lights would keep going out, they said, well, we – – there’s no use putting down anymore because they’re gonna go out all the time. But Charlie Carter, he came out there, the Sheriff, and he had somebody with him. But Ed Sharp, he went down – –

Wayne: Not Charlie Carter, he’s the body. Hyde.

Milo: Hyde.

Wayne: Right.

Milo: But he went down, Ed Sharp went down in the bottom to get Charlie out, Tie a rope on him, get him our if he could. And we let the ropes down and then when Ed Sharp pulled on the rope or this or that, they could holler down and talk to him. It was a deep well. And they tied these ropes together three or four times, lowered him down in there and – – and finally they signaled, and they said, help us pull. So, I was a little tot, maybe 14, 15. I really don’t remember, but I remember helping pull on this here rope, and they worked a long time to get him up out of the well. Then when we get him right just up here to the top of the well to get him up of there, we couldn’t get him out over the well. And somebody jumped up on that wooden platform there and took a hold of him and helped pull him out and over. And Ed Sharp was underneath him, helped pushed him up out, dead Carter. They pushed him out on the ground and he just kind of flopped out there on the ground where we were at. And these – – Hyde and his friend took a hold of Ed Sharp and helped him out of the well, they untied the ropes from around his body because they – – If anything went wrong, we could pull him back up. And soon as he got out on the ground, he went into a cold shock because he’d been down in that cold water. And when he – – he started to shake and tremble and just – – he couldn’t control the nerves in his body. And they made Ed Sharp lay down on the ground and they took his clothes off and they took blankets and gunny sacks and stuff and rubbed him and rubbed him and rubbed him and tried to circulate his blood or something. I don’t know I’d – – hardly what was the matter. I remember I was crying. But remember I was so scared and – – And when he got out, they laid him down like that, I got down and I give him a big love, you know, and I told him, I said, I’m sure glad you’re out of there, you know, I – I was scared and I – –

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: – – I’m sure glad – –

Wayne: How old were you?

Milo: I don’t know. I must have been about 12, 14, I don’t remember.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: But I was just thinking about it, and Mr. Hyde and that guy, they rubbed him and rubbed him and rubbed him. And they got him so he wasn’t trembling so much. And then they – – they changed clothes around from one to another so he could have some dry clothes on. But little things like that in life, you never forget it.

Wayne: No. Lord.

Milo: But see, nobody knows about Ed Sharp going down in the well and sav – –

Wayne: No.

Milo: – – Saving a dead man’s life and give him a burial.

Wayne: Right.

Milo: Now he wasn’t a Mormon.

Wayne: Well, he was dead.

Milo: He was dead.

Wayne: Didn’t safe his life. Saved the body.

Milo: Saved the body, but he give him – – he give him life, he give him burial.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: But you see now, he wasn’t Mormon.

Wayne: No.

Milo: But see, he went down in there – –

Wayne: What did Ed – – what did they do with the body.

Milo: Sheriff Hyde, they – – Sheriff Hyde had that – – looked kind of like a square – – like an old square Hudson or something, Graham or something, I don’t remember. An old square car. And we had to help them put him on – – put his Charlie Carter on the back seat. And they rolled him up in canvases, put him on the back seat and took him to Brigham.

Not long ago there was a piece in the paper about Mr. Hyde, they – – somebody wanted to get a little history about Sheriff Hyde, and I was just thinking, well, maybe I should let them people know that – –

Wayne: Right.

Milo: – – I was – –

Wayne: He was Sheriff up there for a long time.

Milo: And then his boy took over after that, they tell me.

Wayne: Oh, did he?

Milo: They tell me.

Wayne: Maybe that’s why – – wasn’t it Warren Hyde or – –

Milo: Warren, something like that.

Wayne: Yeah. I didn’t know about Ed’s salt operation.

Milo: That was one of the biggest in the state.

Wayne: Really?

Milo: Yeah. Then they opened that one up down towards Wendover. And see, they – –

Wayne: Ed did?

Milo: No. Morton Salt or somebody – –

Wayne: Oh, yeah, yeah.

Milo: – – opened up a big one down there. But we – – in the winter, they used to load boxcars, salt out – – out at promontory.

Wayne: Now, did Ed own this operation.

Milo: Ed Sharp and Ray Sharp. They took – –

Wayne: Who’s Ray.

Milo: A brother. Ed Sharp’s brother, Ray Sharp.

Wayne: He never lived in Plain City?

Milo: They lived in Clinton, Sunset. But they run that salt pond and they – – but they had this salt pond out there and they – – they’d harvest the salt. They took the horses out there to use the horses to plow the salt loose so they could harvest it. It used to come in layers after water would evaporate. They take the horses out there, but the horses hoofs would get coated up with salt so bad the horses got so sore they had to bring the horses back out.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: So they rigged up the trucks and tractors and made little tractors and ski-doos to maybe haul maybe a half a ton out at a time – –

Wayne: uh – huh.

Milo: – – without using horses.

Wayne: Did they – – they just sold it in gross weight or did they bag it?

Milo: We bagged a lot of it.

Wayne: Did you?

Milo: 100-pound bags.

Wayne: And you worked out there.

Milo: Oh, I had to work out there.

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: They had a pond – –

Wayne: Did all the other kids?

Milo: The girls never did. Let’s see, Eddie Sharp, Milo’s brother, Eddie Sharp, walked from Promontory across the cutoff to West Weber out here to back to Plain City. He got homesick. He wouldn’t stay out there.

Wayne: He went over on the Lucin cutoff?

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: How far is that”

Milo: That would be about 75 miles – –

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: – – Going down to Brigham, down around there. But he cut across the railroad track this way. What is it, about 12 miles? Maybe four – – oh, it’d be 12 miles to Little Mountain – –

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: – – Then the cutoff’s be about ten miles.

Wayne: Little Eddie, huh?

Milo: After that – – that’s be Ed Sharp’s young boy.

Wayne: Right.

Milo: But he got homesick and we were working in the salt and Ed Sharp and them guys, see, they was trucking salt over to Brigham and over to Corrine, they was stockpiling it.

Wayne: Oh.

Milo: See, they’d truck pile it in, then they’d go get rations and stuff and come back.

Wayne: Did you stay out – –

Milo: We stated out there.

Wayne: – – overnight:

Milo: They had a big cave back in there. Charlie Carter and them guys had dug their caves. And the Indians had had caves back in that area, Indian caves and stuff back in there, and lived back in these caves for a long time at Promontory. Then they had big tents and stuff that they had out in there. They had the kitchens and stuff out there for the laborers.

Wayne: Right.

Milo: In the wintertime, they had probably ten, 15 guys – –

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: That’s come out with their trucks. They all – – they all bought small trucks and – – they weren’t big trucks, you know, they – – young kids get these trucks and they’d come out there and try to make a dollar.

Wayne: And he loaded them all with this scoop shovel.

Milo: Scooped, everything was scooped.

Wayne: uh-huh.

Milo: No tractor.

Wayne: No.

Milo: It was all shovel. We done a lot of work at nighttime. Nighttime, lot of wok at nighttime.

Wayne: Why? Why nighttime?

Milo: Cool.

Wayne: Oh, yeah. Did that go on the year-round?

Milo: Just in the winter.

Wayne: Just in the winter.

Milo: Uh-huh. Through the winter months.

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: The summertime, see, the – – you could fill your ponds up and then keep – keep your ponds full through the summer.

Wayne: That’s when they make the salt?

Milo: That’s when the evaporation (unintelligible) to salt there.

Wayne: So the winter’s the harvest.

Milo: The harvest.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: But in Promontory, when they put that track across to Promontory, they went across and left a part of the lake with salt and everything in it, deep salt, and Ed Sharp and them harvested a lot of that slat right in there.

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: And one time we was there and it was – – they had this pond of salt and they piled it up to dry, make it white. And the pelicans used to come around. They used to feed them. And they put the dynamite in to blast this salt, and uncle Ed Sharp says, oh, he says, there’s the pelicans. Shoo them away, shoo them away. And they all flew away but one. And he says oh, John, he says, I gotta get you out of there. He ways, gonna blow you up. So Ed Sharp he run back to where the dynamite was and he grabbed this pelican. And he grabbed the pelican and he run, I don’t know how far, not very far when this blast went off, the salt blowing it up. But the – – he fell, fell down on the salt and the bird went away. The birds couldn’t fly because they had salt on their wings. So they’d take these pelicans up and they’d wash them so the pelicans could fly again. But he saved that pelican’s life. But he could have got killed himself.

Wayne: Yeah, I’ll say.

Milo: But I – I’ve often thought about Ed Sharp doing things like that. But he raised me to be a good – –

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: – – Boy.

Wayne: Dad used to love to talk to Ed. We’d sometimes leave here, Grandpa’s place, headed for Warren. But we’d sometimes end up at a – –

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: – – Ed’s and I would set there on the hay rack waiting for those two people to stop talking.

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: They really, genuinely liked each other, I think.

Milo: But see, Ed Sharp, he – – he rented ground off of Bill Freestone down in Warren.

Wayne: Oh.

Milo: Where Milton Brown lives, there used to be a house out in the back.

Wayne: Oh, okay.

Milo: And Bill Freestone lived out in the back of there and Ed – –

Wayne: I remember that.

Milo: – – Ed Sharp – – see, I was a kid, we used to go down there and he planted – –

Wayne: Just across the creek from uncle Earl – –

Milo: – – Potatoes and stuff.

Wayne: – – Hadley’s.

Milo: Yeah, down by uncle – – now, where your uncle Earl Hadley and his wife lives, me and Howard Hunt seen that twister that come through the country and tore down the creamery. The old pea vinery.

Wayne: Down on the salt flat or on the – – in the pasture.

Milo: Yeah. Me and Howard Hunt seen that cyclone pick that building up. We was in Howard’s dad’s car. We seen that twister come through the country. And we was kind of watching it, riding through the dirt roads, and we rode over here by the dump road going down to Hadley’s, and that picked that building right up and it twisted it around tight up in the are and twisted it around and then it just set it down and then it crumbled.

Wayne: I remember that.

Milo: And it went right – –

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And it went right down, this twister went down across the road and then it come back towards your uncle Earl Hadley’s and it come – – missed his house. But it went – – his barn was kind of front and north of the house, and it went right through there and it picked up part of that barn on the west side, it picked that sloping part up. Mr. Hadley and his wife had just come in to have dinner, and they put the horses in there with the harness, hames and that all on – –

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: – – And that picked that shed up and set it back down on them horses. And me and Howard run in there to help Mr. Hadley, we pried that up. Mr. Hadley reached in and talking to them horses and his wife, Liz, I think is her name – –

Wayne: Right.

Milo: – – But each one of them talked to them horses so they didn’t jump around. And me and Howard helped pry that roof up, and he took them horses right our of there. And them horses – – I often thought about that. If nobody was around, see, the horses would have probably died.

Wayne: Yeah. And you were down there working on Ed – –

Milo: No – –

Wayne: (Unintelligible)

Milo: Me and Howard was in the car. He’d borrowed his dad’s car. We was – – we had the water our there by uncle Ed Sharp’s, and Howard said, come and ride down to the store with me. So we go down to buy the ham – – the baloney to make a sandwich.

Wayne: Just down to Olsen’s or Maw’s?

Milo: Maw’s Store.

Wayne: uh-hu.

Milo: And we seen that twister coming.

Wayne: Oh, you – – oh.

Milo: You could hear it.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: You could hear it. And we was startled. We was dumb. We wanted to drive in it.

Wayne: Yeah, you bet.

Milo: If we’d a drove in it, see, it’d a probably picked us up.

Wayne: Yeah. That’s how you got such a good view of it though. You were chasing – – out there chasing it.

Milo: Well, we was watching it.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: But we got to see the creamery – – the vinery go down.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And we got to see the barn pick up, the lean-to on the west side and then we seen it set – –

Wayne: That’s right.

Milo: We could see the horses.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And then it set that right back down. And them horses, I guess the rafters and that probably wedged just so that it didn’t kill them, you know.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Then you see, right after – – right after that, see, we had to go into the war.

Wayne: Right.

Milo: World War Two.

Wayne: I wanna cut back. Taking much more time – – of your time that I meant to. But can you tell me briefly what you know about how Howard got killed in the war?

Milo: Howard – – Howard Hunt, they tell me, got killed by our own ammunition.

Wayne: They were in Italy?

Milo: In Italy.

Wayne: And he was with the Gibson kid and Arnold Rose?

Milo: Also Folkman. I think Folkman was in the – –

Wayne: Oh, I thought he was in Navy.

Milo: I don’t know.

Wayne: Leon?

Milo: They were all close together at that time.

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: Whether they was on the move or what, I don’t know. But Archie Hunt could tell you.

Wayne: Probably – – Archie’s Vic’s son.

Milo: Yeah, grandson.

Wayne: Grandson.

Milo: But he could tell you.

Wayne: Gee, I maybe oughta go see him. Who did he marry?

Milo: He’s remarried Ez Hadley’s wife. Now, you know Harold Hunt?

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Harold Hunt might be able to tell you about Howard.

Wayne: Yeah, I’m not gonna be able to see Howard. I’m going home tomorrow.

Milo: Are you? I can run you down to Archie Hunt’s. But see I went into the war. Howard went into the war.

Wayne: Right.

Milo: Out of all of us guys from Plain City that went in on the first draft, they sent us down to Fort Douglas, Utah.

Wayne: When did you go in?

Milo and Gladys Ross, 30 May 1942

Milo: In what was it, ’41? Took us all in town the first draft.

Wayne: Howard went with you?

Milo: No. No, they come in later.

Wayne: Oh.

Milo: But the first draft, they sent us all out, we went out of the Bamberger tracks.

Wayne: Who was with you, remember?

Milo: Ellis Lund.

Wayne: Yeah.

(l-r): Kenneth Barrow, Ellis or Keith Lund, Milo Ross, Jim Jardine, Unknown, Victor Wayment, Earl Collins 16 Oct 1942

Milo: Yeah, Ellis Lund and – – now I’ve lost it. But we all went down to Fort Douglas. We got down to Fort Douglas. They examined us, shoot us, and everything else like that. Put us in barracks. And they called my name our after they examined and tested us on everything, they called my name out to come up the office. I go up to the office. I was supposed to go get my duffel bag, be ready to move out so – – so many minutes. I run back to the barracks, got my bags and everything, and come back up where I was at. They put me in a jeep with four, five other guys. They took us right down to the railroad station in Salt Lake. They shipped us out to Fort Lewis, Washington, the same day, night we got down to Fort Douglas, they shipped us to Fort Lewis, Washington. And I was the only one out of the whole group that was sent out. And the rest of them guys all stayed here a week or two down here to Fort Douglas, Utah and they sent me up to Fort Lewis.

Wayne: You were just at Douglas long enough to get a – –

Milo: Examination.

Wayne: – – Uniform and – –

Milo: Yeah, they hurried me right through.

Wayne: Why?

Milo: I don’t know whether they had a call they wanted so many to go on this troop, Illinois outfit, National Guard outfit coming through, I don’t know.

Wayne: What, so you did basic training at Fort Lewis?

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: That’s where Norm and Paul – –

Milo: They came there, yeah.

Wayne: uh-huh. For the 41^st division.

Milo: Yeah. But they come up a little later.

Wayne: If we’re on your war career, we might as well stay with it, then we can cut back. What else did you do in the war besides go in early and – –

Milo: Well – –

Wayne: – – Get hijacked in Salt Lake?

Milo: Well, here’s the deal. What I was gonna tell you about. They asked us these questions about putting these pins together. If you open a window, how many panes would you have if you opened – – as a window over there, if you open that there window over there halfway, how many panes would you have? You understand it? Like a sliding window?

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: If you opened that there window, how many panes would you have if you opened it halfway? How would the four – – would you have it if you opened it halfway? You understand it?

Wayne: Has that army general intelligence (unintelligible)

Milo: Intelligence stuff.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And I didn’t care. I was mad. You understand it? I – – I really didn’t care anything about that. And they – – they says, do you like to shoot a gun? And I says I’m – – I’m an expert rifleman. And maybe that there’s why they throwed me out, you know? They didn’t like me down there.

Wayne: This is at Fort Douglas?

Milo: Fort Douglas. And they put me on a train and I went from here right on the – – tight up to Fort Douglas, Utah, and done all my basic training there.

Wayne: Fort Lewis, Washington.

Milo: Fort Lewis, Washington.

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: And I spent my time there, and then after we done our time at Fort Lewis, we went down to Needles, California, Barstow, and opened up a big army training camp down there. We dug great big latrines and trenches and they brought wooden boxes in for toilets and stuff like that.

Wayne: What kind of outfit were you in?

Milo: That was with the 33^rd division.

Wayne: In an infantry – –

Milo: National Guard. Illinois National Guard.

Wayne: Oh, okay.

Milo: 33^rd, Golden Cross.

Wayne: Okay. Is that you?

Milo: Yeah. I’m a highly-decorated soldier.

Wayne: Yeah, you are.

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: Well, tell – – let’s stay with that.

Milo: But.

Wayne: tell me about your war.

Milo: We was – –

Gladys: Before he leaves, I’d like you to show him the plaques that you made (unintelligible).

Milo: Okay.

Gladys: (Unintelligible)

Milo: Okay. He can hear you. At Fort Douglas, Utah, they had an air base there also. They had the B-51’s and P-38’s and they were training the pilots and everybody. And we were training there. And they put me in the infantry. And I done a lot of – – lot of latrine duty. We was in barracks.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Fort Douglas – – Fort Lewis.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And didn’t matter what I done, the company commander, whoever it was, he liked me. If we go out on maneuvers, rifle shooting, anything like that, they liked me because I could hit the targets. They could pull a target up and I could shoot it.

Wayne: Like Plain City kids, you’d grown up – –

Milo: I done it.

Wayne: Sure.

Milo: If we run infiltration course or anything, get down on your guts and crawl.

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: Go under the barbed wire and this and that – –

Wayne: Right.

Milo: – – I done it. And they liked me. And they – – they come along with the 60- millimeter mortar. Told me all about that, an one thing another. And they said, do you know how far that is down to that tree down there? And I says, yeah, I say, it’s probably about 150 yards. And didn’t matter what they done, they’d fire this mortar, 150 yards, they’d be on their target. You know, I wasn’t doing it. But they was asking me these things.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And they’d say, how far away is that tree over there. I’d say, well, it’s close to a thousand yards. But I was good on – –

Wayne: Right.

Milo: – – Distance.

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: And it didn’t matter what I done. And as soon I was there, I was the soldier of the month the first month.

Wayne: Wow.

Milo: I got a pass out of it, you know, and then they made me a private first class and then a corporal and then a buck sergeant, you know.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Then when I got down to Barstow, they made me a Tech Sergeant. Give me a weapons platoon. And that was your 30 machine guns and your 60-millimeter mortars, see? But they give me a platoon down there. And then when they give me the platoon, they put us on guard duty one night. And they took me way out in the desert and left me. Now, you’re gonna stay here until certain hours and then you’ll be relieved. Well, I was gone through the night. The next morning at about noon, here they come to get me. And they said, well, why didn’t you walk in? I said, walk in? Why walk in? I was told to stay here. Was you scared? I had an order. I done it. I get back to camp, they give me a five-day pass for being a soldier of the month down there. You see?

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: So they give me a platoon sergeant. They made me a two-striper. One stripe under at that time.

Wayne: Oh, a staff – –

Milo: Yeah, a staff sergeant.

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: Then. And then they made us a two star later on. Two stripe after.

Wayne: And that’s the tech.

Milo: Tech, yeah. After that. But they was changing at that time. But they give me a five-day pass. And I come back to Utah.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: They give me a five-day pass, but I could only have three because we were shipping out. So I hurried home see my wife, Gladys. She’d come back from Washington so she could be with me just that – – say hello.

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: And I come home to see my wife and I had to go right back the next morning so I’d be able to ship out.

Wayne: You went back to Barstow?

Milo: Barstow.

Wayne: Your outfit was – –

Milo: Barstow.

Wayne: – – Still there.

Milo: We was ready to ship out. But I’d received this five-day pass that had – – soldier of the month award.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: So that’s why I got to come home and to go back. So then they – –

Wayne: When had you got married?

Milo: Well, we got married in ’41. See, then – –

Wayne: Just before you went in?

Milo: Just before we went in. And see, I never seen my boy, Milo, he was born while I was overseas. I didn’t see Milo until he was three years old.

Wayne: Uh-huh. Who did you marry?

Milo: Gladys Donaldson.

Wayne: From Ogden?

Milo: Ogden, yeah. Dave Donaldson’s daughter. Dave Donaldson. They lived on – well, Norm, he used to go up there. They used to pick Gladys up. And Frank Hadley, they used to go pick Gladys and their sisters all up. They used to go up there. But they – – they shipped us out of Barstow and they was gonna send us – – they was gonna send us in to Alaska. They give us all this here heavy equipment and everything, go to Alaska. Then when we get on the ships, the first thing the do is give us new clothing and everything, and we’re going to the southwest pacific. So we went into the Hawaiian Islands. So that’s where – – where we started out at, Hawaiian Islands.

Wayne: Right.

Milo: Then we went from Hawaiian Islands down through – – down Past Kanton Island, Christmas Island, Fiji Islands. We was gonna go into Australia, then they decided instead of going into Australia, they had kept the Japs from going into Australia, so they sent us back up into the Coral Sea, back up into New Guinea.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And so we went up into Finch and Lae and Hollandia. And while we were in there, we unloaded ships and stuff for the ship guys and everything like that. And then while we were in there, I got the soldier of the month award because I got the guys to help dig trenches to get water down out of the – – the fields so that it wasn’t swampy all the way through. And we dug these trenches and they gave me soldiers of the month down there.

We went down to the ocean front in these trucks and we brought coral rock and gravel stuff and made us sidewalks and stuff in our camps. And then the next thing you know, the whole outfits’s done it. And then we put poles and that up and so we didn’t have to have tents, we put a canvas over the top, more like a roof, so everybody done that.

Wayne: And this was in New Guinea.

Milo: In New Guinea. But you see, we went down to Finch Haven, down to Lae, then over to Hollandia, see, and helped unload ships. Then over – – when we was unloading ships, we – – I was in charge of unloading the ships. We unloaded at nighttime so the Navy could sleep and then get their rest, we worked through the nights for them. And we was unloading different things, and one of the guys down below, one of the buck sergeants, I heard him say, hey, this casket here, I put old Sergeant Ross’s name on it, he says make sure this son of a bitch gets it. You see, you could hear them talking.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And I knew who it was. So when we got through off the ship, we have about 50 guys I was in charge of, and another shift come on to relieve us, we go on for four hours, so when we go to load up, I says, say, Sergeant so and so, you gotta come over here a minute, I got a detail for you. Yes, Sergeant Ross. I said, bring three buddies with you. So he brought three buddies over with him. And I says, I got a detail for you. I says, you ride back down to camp with us. I says, it’s only a mile and a half. But I says, I heard you guys talking down – – down in the ship down there, and I says, I got this casket with my name on it and I wanna be sure and keep it. I want you to carry this back to my tent. Maybe I’ll sleep in it a night or two. And he says, oh, Sergeant Ross, I didn’t mean that. You know, but he was mad, you know, he’s irritated to think that the Sergeant would have to go down there and work.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: But little things like this happens.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: But we unloaded tires, 50-gallon drums of oil, gas, out in trucks and they took it out into the bamboos, you know, out in the – – out in the mud swamps.

Wayne: What port were you at?

Milo: Finch Haven.

Wayne: Finschhafen. Now Port Moresby’s on the other side.

Milo: That’s on the upper – – back down farther.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: But when you go up into Coral Sea, you go up kind of towards Borneo, the Big Island. Now, Borneo from where we were at, Finschhafen, you could see Borneo Volcano eruption 24 hours a day.

Wayne: Oh.

Milo: Borneo. And then after we – – after we stayed in there, they said there was no Japs in there. But me and Palke, my friend, army buddy, we was down to the ocean and this native guy come and asked us if we’d shoot two Japs. That these two Japs had taken these native girls prisoners. And we thought he was just kidding we says, yeah we will. So we go with this native. They call them fuzzy tops, New Guinea. We go back, back over here where he’s at and he’s pointing to us. He says, right here, right here. See, this native. And I says, well, thems Japanese. They’re not supposed to be any Japs here. And he says, two of them. I says, Palke, you take the left one, I’ll take the right one. So we shot them. You understand me?

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And then we got – – we got a Japanese flag apiece. My buddy Palke and my – – myself – –

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And Then – –

Wayne: They had captured two native girls?

Milo: Yeah. They were shacking up with the native girls, these Japs.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And this here native fuzzy top, he didn’t want these Japanese there.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: So he asked us to shoot them.

Wayne: You just sneaked up on them in their – –

Milo: Well, we – – we thought he was kidding us.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: So I says to Palke, I says, you take the left one, I’ll take the right one. And we never did tell nobody. You understand me? We didn’t dare. We was scared. We was chicken. We was afraid we’d get in prison. You understand it?

Wayne: uh-huh.

Milo: But see – –

Wayne: You probably broke an article of war.

Milo: We broke an article of war – –

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: – – Because we didn’t talk to the commander in the first place.

Wayne: Right. And it was not a combat situation.

Milo: We were in combat.

Wayne: Were you?

Milo: We were loaded with ammunition at all times ready to fire you see, the Japs come across with their airplanes and strafe us and bomb us and they said – – they said the planes and that wasn’t in there, but – –

Wayne: It’s a combat zone.

Milo: It’s a combat zone.

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: But we – – wherever we went, we had to have a gun and two of us had to be together.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: You understand? At all times.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: If we went down to the ships to unload everything like that, we ha a patrol, guard duty. You had five men, guard duty besides you’re unloading guys stuff like that. But see, after we left Finschhafen, Lae, we went to Dutch East Indies, Morotai, and that used to be a Leper Colony, British Colony. Used it be a Leper Colony. And we went to Morotai, Dutch East Indies, and we had big airstrip there we had to guard.

Wayne: All this time you were in the 33^rd – –

Milo: 33^rd Division.

Wayne: – – Division National Guard from Illinois.

Milo: Illinois. 130^th Infantry. But everything that I’ve done, I got the solder of the month award. I even got a soldier of the month award for fixing up the drain ditches and fixing the gravel sidewalks and stuff like that.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And then the Latrines and stuff, we fixed them back farther away. Then I took the drums and we took – – cut the drums in half and put them by our tents to save the water that came off the tents.

Wayne: Oh, the oil drums.

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: We saved all these drums and stuff.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And we got our own water to wash our clothes and stuff with. And I got a soldier of the month award for that, and I had a chance to go to Australia for five-day pass, but what can you do? You don’t have no money. You – – no way to go. I could have went down with the Australian boy to fly down and back – –

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: But, you know, I didn’t go.

Wayne: You weren’t getting paid?

Milo: Army?

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: Oh, yeah, they paid.

Wayne: Fifty-two – – well, you were – – you were a staff sergeant.

Milo: But we send money home. We was taking out insurance and sending most of it home. We was maybe getting $20 a month, you know, not much.

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: But we went from – – from New Guinea we went up into Dutch East Indies, Morotai, and we guarded the airstrip. And the Australian boys, when the would take off the with their airplanes, they would always do a barrel roll. They’d roll their plane over and – – plane over and – – and we had this guard duty to guard this airstrip. And then when the Japs started to giving the airstrip a bad time, we had to make a drive back up through the airstrip and up through the country in towards – – I don’t remember the town now. Morotai. But we made a drive back up through there to locate the Japanese and get them our of there. And they killed quite a few of the Japanese did, the leading forces. We always brought up the rear, the weapons platoon. But we always had to be on the guard duty.

And then when we got back in farther, they had more Japanese farther back up into Morotai in Village, so they put us in ducks and took is out in the water in the lake, in the ocean, and put us in P.T. Boats. And there was I think about 12 of us. We had a lieutenant Early that went with us. And I volunteered to go as a weapon platoon tech Sergeant. They put us in there p.t. boats and they too us up to this city – –

Wayne: There were 12 of you in the – –

Milo: About 12 of us. About 12 of us, if I remember right that volunteered to go up.

Wayne: In one p.t. boat?

Milo: No. They had the two p.t. boats.

Wayne: Two.

Milo: They brought the two p.t. boat in.

(Tape I-B ends. Tape II-A Begins.)

Wayne: . . . two side one of a conversation with Milo Ross at his home in Plain City.

Milo: Number three.

Wayne: What?

Milo: One, two, three.

Wayne: One, two – – third side.

Milo: third side.

Wayne: Tape two.

Milo: Yeah. But they took us up in these p.t. boats out of the ducks, then we get out, starting out towards to where we was supposed to go, up to the city, this kid, he pushes a handle down on that p.t. boat and that thing just sat back on its tail, you know, and we – – we though it was gonna tip over backwards. You know I mean?

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Because we’d never been in a p.t. boat. And he rammed us right up in on the beach. And we got up in there and we – – we make a beach landing, war-type landing for the Japs, we go in there Bayonets and rifle ready to go, and nobody was there. We run through the – – around the buildings. Run down through the streets like we was trained to do. Run our – – right on down along the side the beach, clear down where the boats and everything was at. And when we got down where the – – they’d tied their boats and all that all up, there was a great big open well, and it was lined with rock and everything, beautiful, beautiful picture. If you ever seen anything in the – – a picture of a open well water, and that’s where they got their drinking water out of, out of buckets and ropes. And then no Japs, no people around at all. So one the follow – –

Wayne: This is – – this is a native village then.

Milo: Native village on Morotai.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Dutch East Indies.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: They have Gilden money, Gilden and different type. But one of the fellows hollered and says, come quick. O the five or six of us that was looking at this water and well and stuff broke and run to where he was at with our rifles, we figured he had some Japs pinned down. But he got to the bank. So we go over to the bank and they had a great big standing vault. And he says, look it here, all the money in the world. So without thinking, we took our ammunition, we put armor-piercing ammunition in our clips. And we cut a hole in this vault to take the money out. You understand me?

Wayne: Yeah. Was it Japanese money?

Milo: It was New Guinea – – not New Guinea, but – –

Wayne: Dutch?

Milo: Dutch East Indies.

Wayne: Paper money.

Milo: Paper money.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: So we – – we loaded this all up in our coats and, you know, your fatigues and stuff like that, we loaded ourselves all up. And the lieutenant Early, he says, well, I gotta have some, too. See, he’s – – he’s in charge. And I’m the platoon sergeant. We even put it in our pants down to our leggings, we had these leggings on. So we – – we robbed the bank. But we did accomplish our mission, no Japs, nobody around. We go back and get into the p.t. boats, go back down, he kicks us off into these ducks. And then the ducks take us back and puts us on the beach down there on Morotai. And as soon as we get down there, we’re under arrest. They strip us off completely. Nude. We’re ready to be court martialed.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And here’s Lieutenant Early stripped off just like we are. Somebody had went down the ground from the bank, down to where we come back in at. It probably wasn’t very far. They came back down and told them that we’d robbed the bank. So when Lieutenant told them what it was, we give them the money and everything like that, they was all satisfied and contented. Lieutenant Early kind of shut it up some way. I don’t know how they done it. But we was – – were under army arrest. Then they tell us, go ahead and get dressed back up in uniform. No charges will be pressed. You’ve returned the money. So they release us.

And about that time, another ship, barge, came in, and it was artillery guys coming in to observe for artillery. Sergeant Ross, go with them. Set up. Yes, sir. I tell the guys, must have been about six of them, I said, just head straight out through here, and I said we’ll go out about 40, 50 yards and stop. Then I says, we’ll call in one shell and find out how close you are with us. So they called in the one shell.

Wayne: What are they gonna fire on if there were no Japanese?

Milo: Well, we have to have artillery wherever we go. For our own protection. They know there’s Japs in Morotai.

Wayne: But you didn’t find any.

Milo: We didn’t find them, but we wanted artillery.

Wayne: You wanted (unintelligible).

Milo: Around us.

Wayne: Okay.

Milo: And they have a shell that they throw in there that’s a smoked shell.

Wayne: Right, you’re just spotting target.

Milo: Just spot – – spot target.

Wayne: Yeah, okay.

Milo: And they – – the one – – the observation man says, I’m gonna run over here to the side and he says, I’ll – – I’ll be right back. I gotta go to the bathroom a minute. So he left us and he just started to walking maybe 20, 25 feet, and boom. We thought the artillery shell had come in and got us. But where – – we looked back to see where it was at, and there was booby trap that this observer had booby trapped, and it had jumped up out of the ground and it had exploded just about his waist height. And it looked like it blew him all to hell. We ran over there to see if we could help him, and his hands and his legs – – the one leg was almost completely off, you know, and his hands was just strung out, you know, you could see the bones and all that in there. And he – – he was conscious, and he says, oh, what did I do wrong? And then he passed out. And then we hollered for the medics and the medics come up, and they decided they’d have to finish amputating his leg because the – – these cords and everything was bothering, hindering, and everything, so they bandaged him all up and tourniqueted him up and fixed him all up. And while we were there, I says, listen, you better get that shell in here on us pretty soon now because, I says, the Japs will know we’re here. So the observation guy from the artillery guy, he called in for this shell and they brought one in and it was close enough to us to where we are at, we knew where it was at, and I says, don’t bring it in any closer, that’s fine.

But all the time we’re talking on the radio back to the company commander, our company commander Kelly, and told him what had happened. With probably booby traps all the way around, watch your area back there, too, because there is booby traps. So the artillery guys, they back out, we go back down to where the company’s dug in, and they call in for two or three shells, artillery shells. They fired way back from the distance off another island back to you, and you can hear them old guns go boom, boom. Then pretty soon you can hear them coming in, shoo, shoo, shoo. And then they boom, you know. And I flag them off and say, that’s enough, that’s – – that’s right where we need it so we know we got some protection and the Japs’ll know we got some protection. And I told the company commander on the radio, I says, we’re zeroed in, sir, right about where we need to be. Good go, sergeant Ross, he says, have the men dig in for the night.

So we stay in this here area for two or three days, then we go back down to Morotai, the airport. And we’re still down there until after Christmas. Christmans eve, they used to have a wash machine Charlie bomber come across, Jap bomber, he’d drop bombs on Morotai. And then after he got so far across and about so high up, they’d turn these search lights on him. They had these great big search lights. They’d turn about six, six to 12 of them if they had all fired up ready to light, and they’d turn these lights up on there and then when the lights would get on the Jap plane, then our planes would be able to spot the bomber and then the P.51’s and 38’s, P.38’s would shoot them down. But that was in the best side in the world if I ever seen in my life was to see a Jap bomber shot down in Morotai. To see – – to see the light on him, to see him explode, and then see a flash, the black – – black explosion then a flash, then hear the motors revving up and going down into the ocean. Then you see your airplanes do their tip of their wings and everybody turns their lights off, follows this airline right on down to the ocean, you know. But it was quite a thrill, something different for us to be able to see how the air corps and everybody worked as a unit.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And we stayed – –

Wayne: What Christmas would this be?

Milo: Oh – –

Wayne: ’42, ’43?

Milo: Let’s see, ’43, ’44.

Wayne: ’44.

Milo: ’44.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Then we went from – – they told us – – they told us we’d be loading out – – we stayed there and guarded the airstrip (Pause in tape. Unintelligible) we killed all them Japs up the side there. Those Japanese let us go through them in that cocoon grass.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: They let that first group go right on past them, about the first squad. And after we got about the first squad past, we always have a signal, we stop. We talk to them on the radio. You have your walkie-talkie and you have everybody stop. And when you stop, one faces one way and one faces the opposite way. Back to back. Combat. And one of the fellows radioed on and he says, I just seen movement in the grass. Japanese to our left front.

The orders were hang by, on signal, everybody fire to our left, mover forward. So when the signal come, every – – everybody starts to shooting and they stand up and they go, walk through the cocoon grass. But they took the Japanese by surprise right on the ground. We never lost a man at Morotai. Them riflemen, them riflemen really protected us, I’ll tell that you. They – – they just done a good job. But the Japanese let them go right through. But if us guys in the back hadn’t seen it, them guys would have been cut off.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: From Morotai we went – – they was gonna take us up into different islands and they kept us on the ships for quite a while. We’d go from one island to another to make landings, and they’d hold us out. And then after so many days, they told us they told us we would be going up to – – into Luzon.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: So then they went up into Luzon, and Harold’s Bunch, 32^nd, and probably Norm’s bunch from the 41^st and that bunch that Norm and Paul Knight’s and them, they went down into Manila.

Wayne: I’m not sure – –

Milo: Down by Clark Air Base, Subic Bay, they probably come in down there. But we went up above and come back in Lingayen Gulf where MacArthur came back in.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And they sent us back up in Lingayen Gulf as guard duty, so when MacArthur comes back in on his, I shall return – –

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: – – That, that is the 33^rd division where he comes back in there, if you know the history of it. That is your golden cross assignment, the return of MacArthur, right in there. That’s where MacArthur comes back in the 33^rd division.

Wayne: Did you have to fight your way in there?

Milo: Never. Not there. We could hear the Japs’ artillery fire coming back out of the hills out of Baguio City down into the valleys. But see, Harold and them guys, they come through clear down into Subic Bay, down in Manila, and they worked their way back up through the island. And Milo Sharp and them guys, they went back to Kibachiwan, the prison camp. Milo Sharp, his bunch went over to Kibachiwan and relieved all the prisoners of war over in that area.

Wayne: Oh. You know what outfit Mutt was in?

Milo: I don’t remember. But Harold was with the 32^nd division. And Harold and them went over to Galiano Valley, wasn’t it?

Wayne: I don’t know.

Milo: Galiano Vallley. They went – – they went past Kibachiwan, the concentration camp, and they went back into Kibachiwan and we went over into Baguio City. So we were all close together. And I – – that’s – – that’s when I – – I met Harold down in Luzon.

Wayne: Oh, did you?

Milo: Up in – – but up in Lingayen Gulf. He come up through there. And I was in charge of distributing the trucks and stuff as they come off the ships, and I was in charge of having them relay the companies, to companies into certain areas and – – but I seen Harold and these guys come through, his buddy.

Wayne: Was that just by chance?

Milo: By chance.

Wayne: No kidding?

Milo: But he knew we was coming in.

Wayne: Oh.

Milo: See, he had a radio. And on the radio you communicate with each other.

Wayne: Uh-huh

Milo: And he picked up our code and he was so many miles away and they came through the field.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Instead of going around the road, they come through the field to us. And I throwed my glasses up and I says to Lieutenant Early, I says, there’s a couple soldiers coming down through there and they’re not Japs, you know. And I was bringing these trucks in, keeping them going where they was supposed to go, and hollering the different guys where to put them. And pretty soon, these two soldiers got up close enough and I throw my glasses on there and I thought, hell, hell, oh mighty. And then I say to Lieutenant Early, I says, what’s going on here? He says, aw, don’t pay no attention to them, they’re all right. So pretty soon, Harold and them guys, they got, oh, probably here to the road, and I heard Harold say, God, big brother, don’t you even know me? See, he had his glasses.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And he’d come down to a dentist probably.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And see, I was just coming in off the ships, but – –

Wayne: So he had an idea you were in the area.

Milo: Well, we have radios.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: See, they knew, they knew we were coming in there.

Wayne: Did you ever run into any other guys from Plain City.

Milo: I didn’t know – – Raymond Bitton from West Weber. He married Beth Skeen.

Wayne: Oh.

Milo: Now, he was in the 33^rd division also.

Wayne: Oh.

Milo: He got a bronze star, yeah. And see, we went – – we – – after we left Luzon, they sent us up into Aringay. We stayed at Aringay and prepared to drop to – –

Wayne: Milo, I gotta use your – –

(Pause in tape)

Milo: They sent us from Luzon after – – after MacArthur and them came in, they relieved us out of there as guard duty and they sent us over into Aringay. They sent us over into Aringay to go through the homes and villages through there, house by house, and searching for the Japanese.

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: Outside of Aringay. And outside of Aringay, we trained to go from one house to another, and we had to take – – go in in twos. One of you walk into a house. These are only one – or two-room building shacks. One would go one way and one go the other way, and you had your rifle and bayonet and go right on in, ready to pull trigger any time. And that was the hardest thing in the world for me is to go in a house ready to shoot in case you see a Japanese or somebody in there. And it was pretty hard, but we – – we searched these villages, we searched the houses, we searched the outside and everything around Aringay.

And then around Aringay, we dug in. And after we’d dug in for one day, the Japanese threw artillery shells in on us, and one of the shells exploded down by the – – a trail, being and it left something burning. And the fellows went down to see what it was, and it was money. The had hit a cache of money that the Japanese had buried, and the paper money and that had caught on fire and the silver coins and that was scattered all over. And I’ve got clippings on that where they found over half a million dollars in coin the Japanese had buried.

But in this artillery barrage that they throwed around us, they throwed the 90’s artillery and whatever it was in on us. And that was on February the 14^th in the morning about 8:00 or 9:00 o’clock, February the 14^th. That’s when the one shell knocked me down and about four other guys got – –

Wayne: This is 1945?

Milo: ’45.

Wayne: yeah.

Milo: knocked us down, and – – February the 14^th. And then I realized I was down on the ground and wanted to get up to help, and then my one leg, I couldn’t get it up. I was paralyzed in the one leg. I’d been wounded. So I go get up, and I go crawl over to help my buddy because he was bleeding on the side quite a bit on his neck. And I put this compress on there as tight as I could, and told him to hold it. And I says, I’ll have to help Fred, my buddy Palke over here – – not Palke, but one of the other fellows, said to come and help him. I crawled over to help him and I thought, well, I’m stand up. And when I went to stand up again, then another shell come in and hit us again. So I got hit once, and then I got hit again, see. So I got hit from the front and I got hit from the back (unintelligible) over that side.

Wayne: Where was the second hit?

Milo: From the back side on the artillery, see, caught me in the back.

Wayne: In the back.

Milo: It was shrapnel, but they – – I think they knocked about 11 of us down. And Palke, he come running over, that’s my buddy here, and I says, Palke, I says, get my pictures of my wife and Gladys and my wallet out of my pack over there, will you? I’d just come back off of guard duty through the night. I went out on a suicide post, and I’d just come back. And I hadn’t had any sleep, and I got wounded as I come, and I was just having a sip of drink with the guys, and I says, you guys, I says, we better split this up. I says, we’re gonna get artillery up here, too. And I no sooner said it than these two shells come in about the same time and got us.

But they shipped me down to 144 station hospital, and I was down there for about a month. And I said, I gotta get out of here. So I volunteered to go back to the company. And then when we got back in the company, they sent us out – – out to San Fernando Valley where the Japanese were out over in that concentration there. We was supposed to make a road block in that area to keep them there. And we waded the Aringay river through the night. And that’s after we’d been wounded. I come back to camp that day, I come back to camp about 3:00 o’clock, and they was preparing to go out. And I was just coming out of the hospital. And they says, what are you gonna do, Sergeant Ross? And I says, well, I’ll go with you. Oh, why don’t you stay with the company? And I said, no, I’ll go with you. So I went and got my ammunition and everything, full pack and everything, and went with them. We waded the Aringay river about 3:00 o’clock in the morning just below the bridge because they knew it was dynamited. Japs was gonna blow it up. We waded the Aringay river and went over into San Fernando Valley and waited until daybreak there to go back up into – – up towards Baguio City where we done most of our fighting. But we done a lot of – –

Milo J Ross

Wayne: So a day after you come out of the hospital, you’re engaged in a fire fight with – –

Milo: Well, the day I come back out, I was loading up my pack that night to go with my company back into combat.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And I was kind of chicken when I waded that river. I had a little fear in me.

Wayne: Yeah. The wounds were – – didn’t – –

Milo: Just shrapnel wounds.

Wayne: didn’t break any bone; they were flesh?

Milo: Flesh wounds.

Wayne: Didn’t shatter any bones or – –

Milo: Just – – just poke holes through you – –

Wayne: uh-huh.

Milo: – – you know, just – –

Wayne: yeah.

Milo: – – poke, poke holes through your body, you know. And my legs was the same way. But I – – they wasn’t gonna release me out of the 144 station hospital, and I said, I’ve gotta get out of here, I’m gonna go nuts. But I went back in and the next, that – – the same night I got out, we waded the Aringay River. We went right over to San Fernando Valley and then we worked our way back up on the ridges, back up through there, and starred to crawling down, down ridges, trying to wipe the Japanese out.

Then we got – – We got – – we had to take Hill X. And Bilbil Mountain. My Company got the Presidential Unit Citation. But I got – – I got the Purple Heart, the Silver Star, and the Good Conduct Medal, and the Presidential Unit Citation.

Wayne: You know, I had no idea you’d got a Silver Star.

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: That’s – – that’s impressive, Milo.

Milo: I got the Presidential Unit Citation with the company.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: We had about a 40 – – they tried to take Hill X. About seven or eight times before, and then they called upon Company C to take it. We tried to take that, we got fired on and pinned down. And we had to dig in for the night. We lost quite a few men. And then we stayed and worked our way up the ridge, but we got up on top and on Hill X, we made our mission. We dug in, we built pill boxes and stayed in. We stayed there for seven, seven or eight days. And they dropped ammunition and stuff from the airplanes, the C-47, they dropped ammunition and stuff our to us. And then they had Filipino people bring rations and stuff up on their heads.

Wayne: The Japanese are above you on the hill?

Milo: They was on the – –

Wayne: Dug in?

Milo: – – Hill X. And also on Bilbil Mountain. And that’s where we was getting most of our fire from is Bilbil Mountain. And Hill X, we had to work our way up that. And when we got to our point up here, we dug in, then we built pill boxes with a roof over them. We’d put logs and stuff over them.

Wayne: Oh.

Milo: And then the night when they was gonna release us, they told us that high officials would be up. Make room in the foxholes for them after dark. So all the colonels and majors and everybody come up to see what they’re gonna do, so they get in our foxholes with and bunkers with us, and they stay through the night with us, and then the next morning they see what they gotta do, and decide they’re gonna relieve, take us off of this hill, Hill X. So they relieve us off of Hill X. And they bring another company up to take our position. And we go on back, back out of here, back down to rest area. And when we get down to rest area, they feed us and let us drink and have clean up. And about dark, they told us that we’d be combat ready again, with no sleep, after supper we would go back up on Bilbil Mountain where the other company was pinned down.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: After we ate, loaded up, went back toward Bilbil Mountain, we had to walk back up where they let us off. Through the night, we walked up on top towards Bilbil Mountain, made contact with the company that was pinned down. On radio, you’re always on radio, you understand me?

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: And they have their patrol back and forth. We make patrol with them right on back up to where their company’s at, pinned down. And they tell us that in morning we would – – all bayonets would be fixed bayonets. Ready to fire and move forward. If anybody goes down, you move on past them, you do not stop, you move right through the company that’s pinned down, our own troops. And the rifleman at daybreak – – you could see movement of the Japanese. And you could see our troops down in the foxholes where we had to go down through. And as soon as they give the signal, our troops went right on down through the first platoon, second platoon, third platoon, and I was the last platoon, fourth platoon. We seen what was going on. Our first squad of men that went down, that – – all that firing was from the hip. They – – they went through there. You know, they caught the Japanese by surprise. They took them right in their foxholes, right through the other company. The other company was told stay in their foxholes.

Wayne: (Unintelligible )

Milo: They had to stay down, let us through them. And C Company went right through them. And when we come through, there was not a soldier of our company that got wounded. We went right through the company that was pinned down and right off of Bilbil Mountain, right on across the ridge, went right down to hill X,that we had been on the day before.

Wayne: Good grief.

Milo: And went right on down.

Wayne : Yeah.

Milo: Back down to camp. I never did know what the company got for that. I’ve – – you know, I – – I come back out of the service right after that because we was up in Luzon fighting on them hills and stuff like that.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: But I – – I did have a chance to stand and – – with Captain Kelly when we received his – –

Wayne: He was your company commander?

Milo: Company commander. He got his Silver Star. I got one.

Wayne: And you got one.

Milo: And I got to stand down with him on the platform they fixed for us. P.W. Clarkson, sixth corps commander, pinned that Silver Star on me star. He says, sergeant Ross, come and go to – – with us in Japan, and he says, I’ll give you a platoon – – a company of your own. I’ll make you a lieutenant. I says, sir, let me go home. I got enough points. 65 points.

Wayne: Is the war over by now?

Milo: It’s just about over. I says, the Japs are whipped, they’re coming in. I says they’re coming in. I says, I took a prisoner of war, and I says, 25, 30 others, I had them come up the next morning and I says, they’re coming in, they’re coming in.

And he says, Sergeant Ross, we need more just like you. I says, please let me go home.

But I had the chance to stand on a platform with Captain Kelly and have a division pass by in review.

Wayne: Wow.

Milo: You know, that’s quite an honor.

Wayne: Right

Milo: Each company come by, and you hear then holler, Company C, eyes right.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Right on down through, you know – –

Wayne: Not many tech sergeants get that privilege.

Milo: That’s really a privilege.

Wayne : Yeah.

Milo: I was honored. I felt proud. I am a huge-decorated soldier.

Wayne: Can I look at those pictures?

Milo: You bet.

(Pause in tape)

Milo: Sorry I took so much of your time.

(Pause in tape)

Milo: Some people’s got them, but I’ve never got them.

Wayne: I’m gonna ask Milo to run over these decorations again on the tape. I had it off. So we’re standing in front of a framed kind of collage of photographs and medals from his war – – there’s the – – you have the Good Conduct Medal.

Milo: Good Conduct Medal.

Wayne: The Silver Star.

Milo: Silver Star for gallantry in action.

Wayne: Right. And now that’s just the step below the – –

Milo: Medal of Honor.

Wayne: The Medal of Honor.

Milo: Uh-huh.

Wayne: Right. And the Purple Heart.

Milo: Purple Heart.

Wayne: And the good – –

Milo: World War II.

Wayne: World War II. Okay. And then there’s a ribbon for a Presidential Unit Citation. And the – –

Milo: Combat Infantry.

Wayne: Combat Infantry badge.

Milo: The picture of P.W. Clarkson, sixth corps commander.

Wayne: And up there’s his hash marks for – –

Milo: Service points.

Wayne: Right. Is that – – I’ve forgotten – –

Milo: I don’t remember.

Wayne: Six months.

Milo: Yes. That’s the old golden cross, 3^rd division, and that’s our – – that’s our battle stars.

Wayne: Two battle stars.

Milo: See the one over here in the southwest pacific.

Wayne : Uh-huh.

Milo: Down into New Guinea. Morotai. And then the Philippine Islands over here.

Wayne: The two battle stars are for the Philippines.

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: And the one to the left of the cross is the New Guinea.

Milo: New Guinea.

Wayne: Right. What is this?

Milo: That’s the expert.

Wayne: Oh.

Milo: I’m an expert in everything that I used.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: I have citations, written citations, I have M-1 rifles, carbine, hand grenades.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: I have certificates of everything. I have a plaque made up that I’ll show you in my bedroom. I’ll bring out and show you. But it’s P.W. Clarkson pinning the silver star on me. That’s captain Kelly standing by me. And after he pinned these on me, we had the division, 33^rd division pass by in review.

Wayne: Yeah J.

Milo: Honored me and Captain Kelly.

Wayne: And that was essentially the end of your army career?

Milo: I wanted to get out at that time.

Wayne: Yeah. While you were still whole.

Milo: I’ll show you the plaque.

(Pause in tape)

Milo: His name’s Milo Paul Ross. And he’s an Eagle Scout. And he has a son here named Paul after his – –

Wayne: Oh.

Milo: – – After his dad.

Wayne: Yeah. Is that his Eagle Scout?

Milo: He’s an Eagle Scout.

Wayne: Right.

Milo: And he’s – – he’s a high-decorated Eagle Scout also Milo’s and Eagle Scout and his son’s an Eagle Scout.

Wayne: Where does Milo live?

Milo: Paul, Idaho.

Wayne: Oh.

Milo: Paul, Idaho. He – – this here bit here received a – – an award out of Minico. This school in Rupert give almost a million dollars scholarship out in high school graduation, and my grandson, Paul Ross – –

Wayne: Paul Ross.

Milo: – – right here received from there clear on down to there.

Wayne: Well.

Milo: About $52,000 scholarships, that the young buck, Paul Ross, received.

Wayne: To USU

Milo: Yeah, up to Logan.

Wayne: Right. What did he do?

Milo: He’s in drafting, engineering, and computers. But you can – – can you read them here? That’s a presidential.

Wayne: Presidential.

Milo: $24,000.

Wayne: For $24,828.

Milo: Uh-huh.

Wayne: USU Drafting and Music.

Milo: Uh-huh.

Wayne: $1,500.

Milo: Uh-huh.

Wayne: USU Academic honors, $250.

Milo: Uh-huh.

Wayne: James Dixon Honorary, $1,000. Harry S. Truman Library Institute, $2,000. Colorado School of Mines Achievement, $6,000. Freshman, $2,000. Performing arts, $800. John and Doris Jensen, $750. Conoco, $1,000. Delano F. Scott, $1,500.

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: That’s quite a list.

Milo: Well – –

Wayne: Now, is this when he graduated from high school?

Milo: From high school.

Wayne: Then he gets these for the college or – –

Milo: yeah he’s going up to Logan. He has a scholarship here now to go to Logan, tuition paid. But he has to pay $3,000 for his board and room I think up there.

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: But other than that – –

Wayne: Is he up there now?

Milo: He’s going this fall.

Wayne: He’ll be a freshman?

Milo: (unintelligible )

Wayne: Oh, this has just happened then?

Milo: Just happened.

Wayne: Oh, yeah, this is June 4^th.

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: 1997.

Milo: He’s a brilliant boy.

Wayne: Minidoka County.

Milo: Yeah, he’s been – –

Wayne: Rupert, Idaho.

Milo: He’s been back to Kansas City twice. He went back later year on a scholarship fund. This year he went back to Kansas City with his dad. They spent ten days going back, come back again, and he placed 16^th last year and he placed 16^th this year national.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Scholarships. He got to go back to Harry S. Truman scholarship school back there that they have for scholarships. And he placed 16^th each time. And that’s Milo’s boy. Now, he wants – – what he wants to do now, when he’s going to Logan, if Logan will let him go this fall when he’s a in school to California on a scholarship for Stanford, I think it is – –

Wayne: Oh.

Milo: – – If they’ll let him go to Stanford on a scholarship, oh, like a scholarship deal, he wants to go down there if Logan will let him go long enough out of college to go down there to – – on that time limit for that scholarship down there. He’s gonna try to get it. I don’t know whether he’ll been able to get it or not.

Wayne: Huh.

Milo: But he picked up about $52,000 scholarships.

Wayne: Yeah. Where did your son, Milo, go to school.

Milo: He went to Plain City. See, he had his schooling here.

Wayne: But he – – did he go to college?

Milo: He didn’t go to college.

Wayne: He went to Weber High?

Milo: See, I bought him that ’59 Chevrolet Impala convertible, that red one. Do you remember him driving that around? I bought him that – –

Wayne : No, I haven’t been around.

Milo: I bought him a ’59 Impala convertible to keep him in school. And then I tried to get him to go on a mission. He wouldn’t go on a mission. And I says, son, here’s $5,000, I’ll give it to you now, or I’ll put it in the bank in your checking account if you’ll go to – – go on a mission. He says, dad, I’m old enough to know where I wanna go. So he just went to work for Circle A Trucking outfit, and he’s been with them ever since. He’s the – – he’s their supervisor up at Paul, Idaho, for the big trucking outfit up there. That’s one of the biggest outfits there is in the states is Circle A Trucking.

I’ve got a plaque here that I’ve just kind of put a little junk together.

Wayne: Oh, boy.

Milo: And it really isn’t put together very nice. But come over here.

Wayne: Now Milo’s showing me a mock-up he’s got of some material on a kind if a – –

Milo: Clipping.

Wayne: – – two-part clipboard here. There’s his Chevron.

Milo: I even got a – – I got a clipping of Plain City School play night, see.

Wayne: Oh, my heavens.

Milo: Here’s – – here’s your sister, Ruth, in here.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: She was my leading girl.

Wayne: Right, I remember that play.

Milo: She was – – she was my girlfriend. And you know what? I tease her. I always say, when I was supposed to kiss you, you always used to put a handkerchief up so our lips never touched. She gets a kick out of that. But that was in the school.

Wayne: Yeah

Milo: Can you read what day that was? I don’t remember.

Wayne: Plain City Junior High School – –

Milo: ‘36

Wayne: – – Will present “The Girl who Forgot” in the ward recreation hall tonight. That is something the 3^rd, 1936.

Milo: 1936, Yeah. But I kept that.

Wayne: Rex McEntire.

Milo: Uh-huh.

Wayne: Keith Hodson.

Milo: Uh-huh.

Wayne: Ray Charlton.

Milo: Yeah. Van Elliott Heninger, he’s in there.

Wayne: Ray Richard – – Ray – – Ray Richardson.

Milo: Charlton.

Wayne: Oh, Ray Charlton.

Milo: Ray Charlton.

Wayne: Middle row Dorothy Richardson.

Milo: Dorothy Richardson.

Wayne: Right. June Wayment.

Milo: June Wayment.

Wayne: Larne Thompson.

Milo: Uh-huh.

Wayne: Margarite Maw.

Milo: Uh-huh.

Wayne: Ruth Carver. Back row, principal J.M. Rhees. Eugene Maw. Director, Van Elliott Heninger. He was our baseball coach.

Milo: Right.

Wayne: Right.

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: Milo Ross

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: And teacher, Ernst Rauzi.

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: Who taught us shop, didn’t he?

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: Oh, that’s something.

Milo: Isn’t that?

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: I – – I had some of these pictures made up and give the kids all some.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Then this here one picture here that – –

Wayne: Plain City Clubbers Show ability.

Milo: That’s baseball.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: I don’t remember what year that was either. That probably won’t even tell you.

Wayne: No. Are you in there?

Milo: Yes, sir. Yeah.

Wayne: Yeah, there’s Elmer.

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: That Freddy?

Milo: Yeah, that’s old Fred.

Wayne: Glen.

Milo: Glen.

Wayne: Norm.

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: My brother.

Milo: Frankie Skeen.

Wayne: Oh, is it? Yeah. Claire Folkman.

Milo: Claire Folkman. Dick – –

Wayne: Dick Skeen, Albert Sharp – –

Milo: Albert Sharp.

Wayne: Abe Maw.

Milo: Yeah. Milo Ross.

Wayne: Is that you?

Milo: Yeah, that’s Milo.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Hang onto that there.

(Telephone rings.)

Wayne: And on the front row there is Frankie Skeen, Walt Moyes, Arnold Taylor, Lynn Stewart, (unintelligible).

Yeah, the rest of this caption reads, Plain City’s Hustling Ball Club has many of the bleacherites at the 1938 Utah Farm Bureau Baseball Championship picking it to walk off with the slate – – the state title. Before the joust closes. Yeah, we recognize the Al Warden prose there.

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: Yeah. I don’t think they won it. I don’t think we ever won that. Played those games up at Brigham City, didn’t we?

Milo: We got placed second.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Denver and Rio Grand got first.

Wayne: Really?

Milo: Yeah. And thus is a picture here of – –

Wayne: Oh, of Luzon.

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: Now, here’s one of New Guinea. Picture of New Guinea. Here’s a picture – –

Wayne: Now, I can’t pick you out there. Where are you?

Milo: Well, I won’t be in that picture.

Wayne: Oh you’re taking the picture.

Milo: I’m taking the picture. Here’s my brother, Harold Ross, and Milo Ross. We got a little write-up against – –

Wayne: For heaven’s sake. You was all so lean. Yeah. You did.

Milo: Then I got a picture here of me in the hospital, 44 station hospital. And that’s McFarland, Delmar White, and Milo Ross and Lyman Skeen.

Wayne: This was all in the Pacific – – or in the Philippines?

Milo: Yeah. That’s the Philippine Islands right there. 144 Station Hospital.

Wayne: Were they all – – were they in the hospital?

Milo: They came to see me.

Wayne: Oh, they came to see you.

Milo: They – – they – on these radios, you have communication back and forth.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: In the war. And here’s our Japanese flag we took.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: I that have there. Here’s – – I have a Silver Star, a citation. Here’s Captain Kelly and Milo Ross here.

Wayne: Yeah.

2004

Milo: Here’s Presidential Unit Citation. I – –

Wayne: Company C., 18^th infantry regiment – –

Milo: one hundred thirty – –

Wayne: – – of the 33^rd – –

Milo: Division.

Wayne: – – Division.

Milo: Uh-huh.

Wayne: Right.

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: Okay.

Milo: This here’s the 33^rd division. Here’s the copy of it, that over there. Now, I have a – – oh, here’s a picture where we were at in New Guinea and different places like this. But everything that I – – the ships and that I was on, I kept a record of everything that I rode on.

Wayne: Well, yeah.

Milo: Can you see it?

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: I even have the dates and everything that I kept them on. I kept – – I kept it in my helmet so it wouldn’t get destroyed. Isn’t that amazing?

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: But I got more time on the shop than a lot of Navy boys have got. And then I got the battles that you was in here, see? Different places here. Here’s the 33^rd division strikes gold, see, recovers a half million dollars plot – –

Wayne: Oh.

Milo: – – Uncovered.

Wayne: This is a – –

Milo: That’s what – –

Wayne: – – Newspaper, your division newspaper.

Milo: Yeah. See I was telling you about this one here. But see, I have the certificates, the mortars, and machine guns, and everything.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: These are all nice. But I – – I kind of kept a record of all of it. These here are little clippings like these here. Sergeant Ross leads an attack and all that, you know, and – –

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: I have them all together.

Wayne: Is it – – what paper is this from?

Milo: That’s standard.

Wayne: Oh, Uh-huh.

Milo: But I got a – – I got lot of copies of it. I’m trying to put a bunch of them together.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: I was wondering if I could find that one down to – – here’s Morotai right here. That was September the 16^th, ’42. I told you ’44.

Wayne: Was when you were in Morotai?

Milo: Uh-huh. Let’s see, let’s see what I wrote on here.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: This is ’44, in December 1944 in Morotai, that – – I was right when I told you before.

Wayne: Oh, this is from the time – –

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: – – this was when you went in the service.

Milo: Right.

Wayne: September 16, 1942.

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: And you were discharged September 30^th, 1945.

Discharge Certificate

Milo: Right.

Wayne: Almost three full years.

Milo: Three years. And then December ’44, see, we was in a battle down in Dutch East Indies, Morotai, our first combat, see, out here. That’s Christmas Eve, see, right here? Under combat fire, February the 14^th. First enemy fire in Rosario, Luzon. The last of February, 202. See, we was on a lot of hills.

Wayne: Hill 18 – –

Milo: – – Yeah.

Wayne: – – 02.

Milo: 1802, near Rosario. Near Arringay, Luzon. And then middle of March, Ballang City. Last of March through April, May, Hill X, with seven unsuccessful attempts, they had tried taking that hill before us – –

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: – – the army, our army, they asked company C., our company , to take it, after what did I say, seven?

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: So they tried to take that hill seven times. We went up and we took it ourselves with the company. We had a high casualty rate, about 44 percent if I remember, it’s on one of these here clippings here that says it. This Presidential Unit Citation probably tells me. And we was on Hill X. And then we went back up on top.

Wayne: But you took Hill X. By going up – –

Milo: Walking right up after them.

Wayne: Well, I thought – – weren’t you brought down from Hill X. Then you regrouped and came up where the artillery – –

Milo: We go up to Hill X first. We take Hill X and hold it and dug in. And then after we dug in, they took us out, back to camp area, they take us back up over here and come up on Bilbil Mountain.

Wayne: Okay. I had.

Milo: Right next to it.

Wayne: Okay. You – – so you took Hill X. Before Bilbil Island.

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: Okay.

Milo: I’ll give you some clippings, if you’ll give me your name and address, I’ll send you copies of them.

Wayne: I will. I’ll be glad to have them.

Milo: Look, here’s the Presidential Unit Citation. They’re just clipped on kind of easy. These are cute. This is my wife here. Here’s one right here. His platoon received the mission to protect from the left flank along this – – also to push forward and capture a section of the hill.

(Tape II-A. Ends. Tape II-B begins.)

Wayne: His platoon received the mission of protecting the left Flank of the company’s assaults, and was also to push forward and capture a section of the hill. The Japs’ positions were peppered with heavy barrages of artillery and mortar fire before the attack. The unit started the attack with Sergeant Ross leading his platoon. After reaching half of the – – just half the distance, the infantrymen were stopped by Japan fire consisting of knee mortars, rifles, and machine guns. During rest of the day, the two groups slugged back and forth at each other with their arms. During the night, the Japs launched an attack against the 130^th perimeter, but were driven off. Sergeant Ross’s machine guns and mortars played an important role in stopping the enemies attack. The following date the Doughboys slowly started – –

Milo: To gain.

Wayne: Oh, to gain yards until by late afternoon they had pushed to the top and captured the positions, killing a large number of Japs. Sergeant Ross’s platoon captured it’s objective before any other of the other units were able to secure theirs. Sergeant Ross has been in the services for nearly three years – –

Milo: Two.

Wayne: – – Two of which have been spent in the Pacific area. Prior to participating in the Philippines liberation campaign, he battled the Japs in Netherland East Indies in the second battle of – –

Milo: Morotai.

Wayne: – – Morotai. Who wrote this?

Milo: These come from – #

Wayne: You don’t know what that’s from?

Milo: I don’t know, but I’ll give you a copy.

Wayne: That apparently is a news account.

Milo: Yeah. Here’s a Presidential Unit Citation. Can you read this one right here? Do you wanna read that?

Wayne: I would like it on the tape, yeah.

Milo: Okay.

Wayne: Is that the same as this?

Milo: Same as that. Turn it over by your light there.

Wayne: Huh?

Milo: Turn it over by your light. Maybe you see it better, can you?

Wayne: Unit Citation, 5 July, 1945, Headquarters 33^rd Infantry Division, A.P.O. 33, General Orders Number 159. Under the provisions of Section 4, Circular Number 333, War Department, 22 December, 1943, the following unit is cited by the Commanding General of the 33^rd infantry division: Company C., 130^th Infantry Regiment, is cited for outstanding performance of duty in armed conflict with the enemy. Bilbil Mountain of Province Luzon – –

Milo: Come in.

Wayne: – – Philippine Islands – –

Milo: Come in.

Wayne: – – An extremely rugged forest covered – -, key defensive positions was occupied by a company of Japs reinforced with heavy machine guns, section – – 90-millimeter mortar section and two sections, two guns of 75-millimeter howitzers. This commanding ground afforded excellent observation and enable the enemy to maneuver it’s forces and supporting- – weapons to advantageous positions, to successfully – – to success – -I can’t read – –

Milo: To seize.

Wayne: To success – –

Milo: Oh – –

Wayne: To success – –

Milo: Important – -oh, two previous unsuccessful – –

Wayne: To successfully repel seven previous attempts – –

Milo: They’d been tried taking it seven times before.

Wayne: All right. To seize Hill X.

Milo: But we took it in the first time up.

Wayne: The strategically important know on the southeastern slope of Bilbil Mountain. Hill X. Was honeycombed with prepared positions from which the enemy observed and harassed our movements along the Galiano-Baguio road. That’s B-a-g-u-i-o.

Milo: Baguio.

Wayne: Baguio, the Galiano – Baguio – –

Milo: Galiano.

Wayne: Galiano-Baguio road.

Milo: Baguio road.

Wayne: On Ap- – on 12 April 1945, company C. Under the sweltering sun laboriously climbed steep mountain trail which followed the crest of an extremely narrow hogback ridge, which except for shot – –

Milo: Cogon Grass.

Wayne: – -Cogon Grass and sparse bamboo growth was devoid of cover, and pushed to within 400 yards of the crest of Hill X. When they were met by heavy barrage of 90-mortimer – -millimeter mortar fire which enveloped the entire ridge. From the simultaneously intense enemy machine gun and rifle fire emanating from the many camouflaged spiders holes and caves astride the trail, evac- – inflicted many casualties forcing the company to dig in. A reconnaissance revealed no other route to the objective, so the company evacuated it’s casualties and aggressively pressed against this seemingly impenetrable fortress throughout the day making the enemy – –

Milo: Disclose.

Wayne: – – Disclose its strong points. On 13 April 1945, despite the fact that the constant watchfulness against the night infiltration – –

Milo: You lost a line – –

Wayne: No, I skipped a line, didn’t I?

Milo: On April first – –

Wayne: It’s my glasses. On 13 April 1945, despite the fact that the men weary from the strenuous climb, the fierce fighting and constant watchfulness against night infiltration, the company launched a dawn attack. Undaunted by the intense fire which inflicted five casualties to the leading elements, the gallant fighting men of company C. Imbued with an indomitable fighting spirit swiftly worked their way up, up – – way up the knife – like ridge, and in the fiercest kind of close-in fighting wiped out six Jap machine gun nests in succession, killing the defending Japs in their hole. The enemy fanatically contested with intense fire every foot of the way to the summit, but undismayed, company C. Seized Hill X. And dug in tenaciously holding on despite continuous harassing fire delivered from the dominating positions on the Bilbil Mountain.

That night the Japs counter-attacked another company sent to assist in the attack on Bilbil Mountain, on 14 April 1945, succeeded in reaching the summit only to be driven off by the fierce Jap counter-attack. The full fury and power of the Japs was again turned on company C. Which alone held its, position, successfully repulsion gallery the severe and determined counter-attacks. The tired fighting men of company C. Exhibiting unwavering fighting spirit despite nearly 50 percent casualties, tenaciously held Hill X. For five days until reinforcements were available to continue the attack and annihilate the enemy.

Milo: That’s right, but I’ll give you a copy of these.

Wayne: Yeah, that would be great.

Milo: I’ll fix you up something.

Wayne: Yeah, they’re kind of hard to take off the tape and – –

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: – – Get accurate.

Milo: But I’ll – – I’ll give you a copy of it.

Wayne: Hi.

A Voice: Hello, how are you?

Milo: This is Dick Skeen’s boy.

A Voice: (unintelligible)

Wayne: How did you do?

A Voice: Cody (Unintelligible)

Wayne: Cody – –

A Voice: (unintelligible)

Wayne: Across the street?

A Voice: Uh-huh.

Wayne: Oh.

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: Trying to do an audio on visual stuff. We should have a video.

Milo: They told about the Philippine Islands people would give you a ribbon, liberation ribbon.

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: So I wrote to the Philippine people, that I really appreciated them, one thing and another, see.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Then I thought, well, I’ll just tell something about the people. So I told about the people carrying the water and the stuff up on their heads and that.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And I said, I don’t know whether the Army’s ever told you this or not, but I wanna thank you personally. I never had guts enough to get out of my foxhole, do you understand it?

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: To help you carry that stuff up the hill. But the women and the men and the girls that carried the ammunition and water up to us, I’d like at this time to thank you people from the Philippine Islands for helping us while we were in the war to save your country.

Wayne: That was mighty – – mighty thoughtful of you Milo.

Milo: Well, I wrote a letter and I sent it to the Philippine people and I kept this copy.

Wayne: Right, did you get any response?

Milo: Not yet. You don’t get much back.

Wayne: Probably not. I’m sure it was delivered.

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Now, is there anything else? But I will, while you’re still on your tape, I will give you a copy of my Presidential Unit Citation. I’ll give you a picture of myself.

Wayne: Right. And if you’re gonna make, you know, I could go into Kinko’s and get copies made in a hurry.

Milo: Well – –

Wayne: If you wanted to trust me with any of this stuff.

Milo: I’d – –

Wayne: But you – –

Milo: Let me get them all together for you.

Wayne: – – Maybe rather have them – – I’d like a copy of that, if you wouldn’t mind my having one.

Milo: Well, it’s not too good a writing.

Wayne: Well, wasn’t gonna grade it.

Milo: Well, professor – –

Wayne: It’s not a theme. But there’s nor many soldiers that wrote letters like that – –

Milo: See I – –

Wayne: – – 40 years after the fact.

Milo: But the idea of it is, the idea of it is, see, I did write to the people.

Wayne: Right.

Milo: And thank them for it.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And I – – I – – where is Gladys? But I did write to the Filipino people, look, I wrote this here April 7, 1994. Can you see it?

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Dear Philippine people and the government, do you understand it?

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Thanks for not forgetting and out the war, do you understand that?

Wayne: Right.

Milo: Then I put down Milo Ross and my number and everything like that. Filipino. But it’s your country, not my country.

Wayne: Yeah. Have you ever been back?

Milo: No.

Wayne: Yeah, that’s a very, very thoughtful letter, indeed.

Milo: Well, I wanted to write to the people.

Wayne: That’s – –

Milo: That’s my little Milo. This is Mr with the horses. You remember that?

Wayne: This is the guy I knew.

Milo: That’s many years ago, Wayne.

Wayne: You haven’t got one of you in your baseball uniform?

Milo: Yes, sir, that’s the only one down here.

Wayne: I was probably the score keeper for that team.

Milo: You was the scorekeeper – –

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: – – Wayne, you was the scorekeeper. They called you the bat boy.

Wayne: Right. In English.

Milo: English.

Wayne: I called Ted Christensen and I said I – – it’s a long time ago, and he said, I remember you, English.

Milo: But I – –

Wayne: – – I’ll never live it down.

Milo: If you will get – – give me your name and address and that and I – – I will get you – – I’ll put you a bunch of stuff together.

Wayne: Good, I’d like that. Yeah. Are you gonna have to stop for dinner?

Milo: Beg pardon?

Wayne: Are you gonna have to stop for dinner?

Milo: No. You just tell me what you wanna do and I’ll – –

Wayne: Okay,. Well, I’d like to cut back from Army. You came home in – – from the Army in – –

Milo: ’45.

Wayne: In ’45. In what, July – – what did it say?

Milo: I came home in September.

Wayne: September of ’45?

Milo: Yeah, August.

Wayne: Right. Let’s go back a little bit to – – we’ll have to be a little – –

Milo: He’s on time because he’s gotta fly out.

(Conversation in background.)

Milo: Here, you go here. Do you want that (unintelligible)

Wayne: Well, it might be a little better.

Milo: Why don’t you sit over here?

A Voice: Nice to meet you.

Wayne: Nice to meet you

A Voice: See you later. (Unintelligible)

Milo: Wayne and them used to live where the homes and that’s in here.

A Voice: Over here?

Milo: Carver.

Wayne: We lived in the house where Lorin – –

A Voice: Oh, okay .

Wayne: – – And Carolyn lived. That’s the old – –

Milo: He’s a professor back in Minnesota.

Wayne: Minnesota.

Milo: He’s taking, putting a little stuff together.

Wayne: I’m interviewing all the old people.

A Voice: All the old people, huh? Well, this guy sure is interesting, so I’m sure – –

Wayne: Yeah, he is.

A Voice: – – (unintelligible) lot of information.

Wayne: Fascinating, yeah.

A Voice: Well, I’ll let you go.

Milo: Gladys, it’s 6:00 o’clock. Are you gonna feed Judy?

Gladys: She’s been fed (unintelligible).

Milo: Okay. We got a little bit more.

Gladys: Did you get my dishes done?

Milo: Did you get them dishes done, she says? Did you want (unintelligible)

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: I’m gonna tell you – – can you hear me now?

Wayne: I can hear you. I’ll stop in a minute to see if we’re – –

Milo: See if you pick it up.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Then I’ll wanna tell you you two things more.

Wayne: Okay.

Milo: Tell me when you’re ready.

Wayne: Go ahead.

Milo: I wrote to the Philippine people in ’94 and thanked them for the help that they give us on Hill X. The time we were there, we could not leave. You understand me?

Wayne: Right.

Milo: We were pinned down. And when you’re pinned down, the only place you go is crawling. And these natives would bring that water, ammunition up to us, get to a certain place, they’d drop it off and run back. I never seen an Army man jump up to help any of them bring it up, you understand me?

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: I didn’t either. But maybe we all should have went and helped them, I don’t know.

Wayne: You’d have got shot.

Milo: You understand what I’m trying to say?

Wayne: Sure.

Milo: But I thought, wonder if anybody ever thanked those people for doing it for us. Because we couldn’t have stood there. We wouldn’t have – – we wouldn’t have stayed there. So I wrote that letter to them and thanked those people, to let the people know that their help to carry that ammunition up.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Sunday we was up to church services up to the Dee Hospital. I’ve been going up there for six years. I go up there and I help them pass the Sacrament, bless people, or anything like that in the hospital that wants to be blessed or have Sacrament or anything like that for six years. This two Sundays ago a Japanese girl came from Tokyo. Sister Sparrow introduced her to me. And while I was sitting there, I got thinking, I wonder if that young girl would be a relative of – – to the soldier, Japanese, that I took prisoner of war outside of Baguio. So it all run through my mind and finally I think, oh, gee, I’ll write a little letter to her. I made an appointment to meet them next Sunday at the hospital, so they came back next Sunday to the hospital, and I wrote this here little letter there and I told her, I says, you don’t know me, I don’t know you, but I said, during the war, outside of Baguio City, I give a Japanese a soldier to live his life. I took him a prisoner of war. I did not get his name, didn’t get his address, didn’t do anything like that. But I said, I took him prisoner of war late in the afternoon, dark, and I says, I told him to tell his buddies to come up the next morning out of the cave. There’s 25 or 30 more of them in there. Come up with a white flag in the morning, up the trail with their white flag and surrender, because you’re done. You’re gonna be blowed up if you don’t come out. So he took back with me up the hill, and I never bothered me a bit taking him back as a prison of war. I was down there alone.

I get back up to our foxholes and I told, I was on radio, I had my radio, I told them what we was doing, they was, watching me. I get back up on the hill where we were at, dug in, one thing and another, and they have somebody there to take this man prisoner of war. So before they take him prisoners of war, I shared a candy bar with him. I give him a candy bar and shook his hand. And says, good luck, I’m glad you came up the way you did. And I says, your friends will probably meet you tomorrow someplace else.

I never thought anything more about it until I was to church after all these years.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Fifty-two, three years. You understand it?

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And I see this Japanese girl, and I think, wonder if she could have a grandpa that I saved his life. Wouldn’t that be something if that young girl goes, back to Tokyo and maybe it’s her grandpa or somebody in her family that I took a prisoner of war. And I give her my name and address and I told her about what had happened. I says, when you go back home, you see in your family or relatives, and around if they know some man that was taken prisoner of war outside of Baguio City, and if he did, I’m Milo Ross. And I’d sure like to write to him. And if he’s still alive, I’d even pay his way over here. You know what I mean?

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: I would.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: I – – But you get attached to this.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And it’s in your heart. Now, lot of guys say, how – – how can you do things like this and do that? You don’t do it. You’re a trained. Day in day out, day in and day out. The guys that trained and stayed trained is the guys that come back home. The guys that was lazy, they didn’t make it too good. It was hard for them. But the guys that stayed alert physical – – there was five tech sergeants, first sergeant, second, third, fourth sergeant, and the master sergeant, the company. Five of us. Trained together. Five of us sergeants came home on the same bus ticket – – boat together.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Isn’t that amazing?

Wayne: Yeah, it is.

Milo: Five of us. And it just shows you, you can do ‘er. And see then, I didn’t get to see my son until he was three years old.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: I was gone for three years old. But I have a wonderful wife that sent me letters, encouraged me.

Wayne: It’s amazing, you know, how much the war has stayed with you, though.

Milo: Nobody knows, though. If you told somebody you used your helmet to mess in, do you think they’d believe you?

Wayne: Well, I would.

Milo: See, you have to.

Wayne: Yeah, because I did.

Milo: You had to.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: You had to.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And people don’t realize.

Wayne: But there are a lot of guys from world war two, you know, I think they – – were able to cut it right off.

Milo: Forget it.

Wayne: And forget it. You haven’t. Or you wouldn’t feel that way about that Japanese girl.

Milo: It touched my heart.

Wayne: Yeah, yeah.

Milo: I thought, here’s a young girl. Maybe I saved her daddy to give her a life.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Huh?

Wayne: Yeah, indeed.

Milo: See, I’m – –

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: – – I’m kind of a Mormon, you know.

Wayne: When did you become a Mormon?

Milo: Oh, what was it, back in ’36, ’37, when I was going into seminary, you know.

Hi Judy.

But, you know, little things like this in life, if I hadn’t of had a wonderful wife, I would have never come back home.

Wayne: Really?

Milo: Never. I’d have never come back home. I’d have went into Japan – –

Wayne: You mean you’d have – –

Milo: I’d have stayed.

Wayne: You’d have pulled away somewhere.

Milo: I would have stayed in the war. Because I – – I’d have been – – I’d have been up, you know. They – – they wanted me to take over platoons, they wanted me to do this, do that.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: They even sent me over to headquarters, you know. And helped me over there. You know, and helped me, helped me, helped me.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: They liked me.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: But if it hadn’t have been for – –

Wayne: That’s interesting. It didn’t surprise me when Harold became a career soldier. Always thought Harold would like that. But I didn’t – – I wouldn’t have suspected that of you, you know.

Milo: See, Harold got a Bronze Star.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Did he – – you talked to him?

Wayne: Yes.

Milo: He got a Bronze Star.

Wayne: Yeah, over at Dad’s place right after Dad died. Paul Knight got a Bronze Star.

Wayne: Did he?

Milo: He did.

Wayne: Uh-huh, in the Philippines.

Milo: Dale Moyes – – Dale East was there, too.

Wayne: Really.

Milo: Yeah, Dale East was there.

Wayne: Yeah

Milo: Blair Simpson was there.

Wayne: In the Philippines?

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: Did you run into all the guys.

Milo: Never met a one of them. Harold, my brother Harold – –

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: I went to Kibachiwan to see Milo Sharp, and the night I got to Kibachiwan, about 2:00 o’clock in the morning, those guys were in trucks going out. And how are you gonna find him?

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: See, they’d relieved all the prisoners of war out of Kibachiwan. Them guys, are the ones that caught the devil right there. They – – they had a dirty setup taking prisoners of war there.

Wayne: I didn’t see a soul from Plain City in the three years I was in the service.

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: Until I got back home. I was in Europe course.

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: And I think the Philippines, they cluster together more. We were spread all over, you know. Or I the – –

Can we cut back for a little bit to your life in Plain City – –

Milo: (unintelligible)

Wayne: – – you went to Plain City school, you went to Weber High school. Any big adventures there?

Milo: In school?

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: Oh, Mr. Bates, do you remember him?

Wayne: Parley – – Parley Bates?

Milo: Year, I remember Parley Bates.

Wayne: Yeah. Was he a big adventure? I must have missed that part of him.

Milo: He was – – oh, he was kind of like a prophet.

Wayne: Really?

Milo: Yeah understand me? You can do it.

Wayne: Well, we tried to teach me mathematics. And he thought he could. He was no prophet there.

Milo: Well, what I mean is, he – – he tried.

Wayne: Oh, yeah, he tried.

Milo: He tried, tried, tried, tried. Do you understand? Now, in algebra and geometry, I was easy.

Wayne: Really?

Milo: Spelling? I couldn’t even spell mother.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: They asked me to – – in school once to draw a Robin. So I tried to draw a Robin, you know, Charcoal, whatever we had. And when I got through drawing this little robin, the lady, sister Stewart, Norma Stewart, she says, Milo, what is this? Is this an elephant. And I said, no, that’s a Robin.

But you know, spelling and English, things like that, I couldn’t go for it, you know. .

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: But when it come to building homes and stuff like that, I could take a set of blueprints and I could tell you every board that went into it.?

Wayne: Right. Now, did you – – did you just learn that on your own?

Milo: It’s – –

Wayne: All your building skills and – –

Milo: It’s probably like in your brain, you know, you take school and you take math and one thing another, and you – – you pick it up here and you pick it up there. And Harold Hunt taught me a lot.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Harold Hunt, Del Sharp.

Wayne: Right.

Milo: Harold Hunt’s probably one of smartest men there is in the world on a square

Wayne: Oh.

Milo: Big framing square.

Wayne: One of the quietest men in the world.

Milo: Quietest men in the world.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Wonderful. They’ve done a lot of good for Plain City. If you want to ask me questions, go right ahead. I’m just talking.

Wayne: No, that’s fine. I – – I’ve wanted to go talk to Harold, you know, but I’ve been scared a little bit.

Milo: I’ll go with you.

Wayne: Well, I’m not sure we will because I’m out here tomorrow.

Milo: Oh, But he’d be tickled to death for you to come over.

Wayne: Really?

Milo : Yes, sir.

Wayne: Yeah, I always feel like I’m butting in on people.

Gladys: You ought to go see him a minute before you leave.

Milo: He’d be glad to talk to you. And you could ask him about Howard.

Wayne: Yeah that’s true.

Gladys: Jump in the car and go over and see him before you go home.

Milo: You got a minute?

Wayne: Oh, boy, I gotta go see Frank Hadley pretty quick. Maybe I could catch a minute tomorrow.

Milo: Okay.

Wayne: I can call you? Or I’ll just go over and – – will he mind if I call him?

Milo: He’d be glad to see you.

Wayne: His wife’s Ina.

Milo: Ina.

Wayne: Who was she.

Milo: She was an Etherington from West Weber.

Wayne: Adele’s – – Ladell’s brother – –

Milo: Right.

Wayne: – – Right. Tell me, you made your life after the war as a builder, right?

Milo: I worked for the American Pack for many years.

Wayne: Oh, did you?

Milo: I was assistant foreman on the killing floor for many years.

Wayne: Oh, that became Swift.

Milo: Used to be the American Pack, then Swift took over. Then when Swift come over, they came in with the union. And I could see what was happening. They put them on piecework. And when they put them on piecework, I could see what was happening and I decided to get out of there. So I got out of there and I went into – – to the carpenter business and I went to work – – second day I quit, I went to work on the 24^th street Viaduct as a carpenter.

Wayne: Oh.

Milo: So, I helped on the 24^th street viaduct I built some scaffolding horses for them on them a-frames, on them I-beams and stuff like that, to put the plank and that on – –

Wayne: Is that the – – Are you talking about the new – –

Milo: 24^th street viaduct.

Wayne: When they pulled the old – –

Milo: West side down.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: They took that all down right after the war. But I went to work over there for Wheelright’s Toughy Wheelright.

Wayne: Oh.

Milo: And they sent me from – – they sent me up on Kaysville up there with another guy and we went up there and we laid out a great big water tank hole. He was a surveyor, and he took me up there and he taught me how to survey, how to use an instrument, you know, and how to lay it out.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And everybody seemed to like they kind of liked me when I got on a job with something like that, and it just seemed like everything fell together. And then I went to work for Westingskow and Clay. And I was a purchaser for them.

Wayne: I’m sorry, who?

Milo: Westingskow and Clay.

Wayne: Westing- –

Milo: Westingskow.

Wayne: Skow.

Milo: Yeah. And Ben Clay. They were builders.

Wayne: Oh.

Milo: We built down in Roy, Clearfield, and right in that area there. They- – one of the biggest builders right after the war.

Wayne: Work on all those homes that have filled up – –

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne : – – The country?

Milo: Yeah. And then I – – I went – – I built 1q units, four-plexes for C.R. England in Roy.

Wayne: Really?

Milo: You remember that?

Wayne: Well, I remember Chester.

Milo: Chester England, he had the lumber yard.

Wayne: I wasn’t around when he was in the lumber business no.

Milo: But I- – I went down into Roy right above the old folks’ home there and built 11 four-plexes for him. That’s the first – – first million dollars he made.

Wayne: Really?

Milo: Yeah. He was offered a million dollars for them after we got completed.

Wayne: Well, he just built them on speculation?

Milo: Well, he had me build them and he furnished all the material and everything out of his lumber yard. And he had me as a foreman and I overseen them. And I helped them survey their sewer in for Roy sewer and we run the water and everything. It was kind of new to all of them at that time- –

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: – – to have that many units. And they were kind of glad to have somebody help them, you know, to get their right measurements from the road and everything. And it kind of work out nice. But I worked for Chester England for all those years. And then I work with Chester England in Plain City. See, we built about 15 homes in Plain City for C.R. England. But he financed each one of the homes we built for those people.

Wayne : We’re these just individual lots?

Milo: Individual lots.

Wayne: They’re not side-by-side.

Milo: No, just individuals.

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: Down by the cemetery.

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: See, he built them down through there. And then after we got through with C.R. England, see, I went into business on myself and I had five guys working for me. And we started to remodeling like Milton Brown’s house and built Dale Moyes’ house and Ike Moyes’ house. We went right on through, Claire Folkman’s house, you know.

Wayne: Where – – did Milton Brown live in Plain City.

Milo: He lived in Warren, down by the creek.

Wayne: That’s what I thought. By third creek.

Milo: By Earl’s.

Wayne: Yeah, that’s right, yeah.

Milo: See we remodeled his house. And but I- – I built Plain City Church with Lee Carver. I built 38, 39^th ward chapel on – – in South Ogden with Lee Carver. He was the supervisor there.

Wayne: He kind of worked for the church, didn’t he?

Milo: He did work for the church.

Wayne: Right.

Milo: Worked for the church (unintelligible). I wrote Lee Carver a letter too.

Wayne: I understand he’s in a rest home now.

Milo: He’s in a rest home on 9^th Street with his boy, Brent.

Wayne: Yeah. I’m glad the two of them can be together.

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: I tried to call his daughter, Karen, but I can’t get them. I think they’re out – –

Milo: If you wanna get a hold Lee Carver, I’ll go with you. On 9^th Street. Take you right to his room.

Gladys: Lee would be thrilled – –

Milo: He’d be glad – –

Gladys: – – to see you.

Milo: You’d be- – you’d do you good to get some tapes of that.

Wayne: I’ve got – – I’ve got about ten tapes from Lee about ten years ago when he was still working out in his shop.

Milo: They never give Lee Carver credit for building the Plain City church. They didn’t even mention his name, dedication, you know that?

Wayne: No.

Milo: They didn’t even mention Milo Ross name a builder on it when they dedicated our church.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: It’s sad. The guy that does the work and everything, he don’t get – – when we built Plain City Bowery up there, Junior Taylor and I done all the cement work. They didn’t even mention that. They mentioned the other guys that was in Lions’ club and this and that.

Wayne: Oh.

Milo: Do you understand?

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: But us guys, Junior Taylor and Milo Ross, they never give us credit for nothing.

Wayne: Was Junior a builder?

Milo: He helped cement, yeah, he helped us. You see Clark Taylor run a housing building outfit up 2^nd Street. They called it Vitt’s Constitution.

Wayne: Oh.

Milo: Clark Taylor was the strawman of it.

Wayne: Oh.

Milo: He was the driver.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: That was up 2^nd Street. And Junior Taylor and Hugh Taylor and all then guys and Wilmette Taylor and all them come in, and he give us all work. And that’s – – it helped each one of us progress. But it’s really special.

Wayne: Yeah. Well, I’m gonna have to go and I’ve kept you long enough. Can you make a – – you’ve lived here all your life except for those four years you were in service.

Milo: Three years.

Wayne : Three years. What do you make of it all?

Milo: I’ve seen – – I’ve even got a picture of Milo, myself, in a buggy, four, five of us in a buggy, one-horse-drawn buggy.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo : I’m back that far. And I remember we only had one light in a house, ceiling.

Wayne: hanging from the – –

Milo: Hanging down. You had to turn that on.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: I remember Merle England gathering up milk after a while, he started gathering up the milk. They used to have to take their milk to the creamery there they separated it, cream and milk.

Wayne: Right.

Milo: I’ve got a cream separator out here I’ll show you before you go.

Wayne: Have you?

Milo: And I remember Ed Sharp getting one – – probably one – – not the first truck in here, but one of the first trucks. Winer Maw, remember that great big truck they brought in here that had hard wheel rubber tires.

Wayne: Oh.

Milo: And – –

Wayne: A motorized truck?

Milo: Yes, sir.

Wayne: Not on pneumatic tires?

Milo: It didn’t have on the – – it didn’t have on the air tires. It had on – –

Wayne: Good heavens.

Milo: It had hard pressed rubber, like hard rubber on it.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And the young boy, George Maw, was probably the one that drove it from Ogden out to here. I’m not sure.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Because we used to be able to go down to Maw’s and work a little bit to get a – – some lunch meat, baloney, and black Nigger Babies, and stuff like that, you know.

Wayne: Right.

Milo: Used to go help them unload coal and stuff like that to pick up a dollar. We didn’t have money. That’s what makes it bad. But I – – remember the one light and milking the cows by hand. Everybody had cows.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Everybody had chickens. They had animals. Ducks and geese. They traded eggs. They traded wheat and grain. I can remember when they used to grind their grain through that grinder.

Wayne: Oh.

Milo: Grind it, you know, and make their own bread. And they’d – – you didn’t have butter and stuff like that. You couldn’t buy it. You make your own butter.

Wayne: Do you remember the old creamery out there.

Milo: Yes, sir. Right across – –

Wayne: That was ruins when we were kids.

Milo: Yeah. That was right where Timmy Folkman lives there now on the north side by Fred Hunt’s house.

Wayne: That’s just about across from Fred.

Milo: Barn.

Wayne: Down by the barn. Whose creamery was that?

Milo: I don’t know.

Wayne: Do you know who started it or – –

Milo: I don’t know. Lee Carver tore that down for the materials.

Wayne: Did he?

Milo: Uh-huh.

Wayne: I remember that.

Milo: Yeah. Lee Carver –

Wayne: Used to go down there and play in the ruins.

Milo: Yeah. He used to go there. And on Saturdays and Sundays, they used to come there, and we used to box. Harold Hunt had boxing gloves and he’d get us to use the gloves and box each other, you know.

Wayne: Yeah, Ted was telling me about that. I hadn’t realized that.

Milo: Yeah, but we was having fun.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And then Harold Hunt and Bert Hunt and Lloyd Robbins and a bunch of them guys had their horses they used to ride. And they’d also play Wyatt Earp and all that and go underneath the horses belly and all this and that.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And Lloyd Robbins – – Lynn Robbins, he went underneath the horse up by uncle Ed Sharp’s, and when he went underneath the horse and came back up, the horse was running, and there’s a guy – wire that comes from the poles down into the ground? And he caught that guy-wire on the side of his face and tore his face open that’s why he had a scar there.

Wayne: I remember that.

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: He was a tall skinny kid.

Milo: Tall skinny boy.

Wayne: Was he Dob and Blaine’s – –

Milo: Yeah, brother.

Wayne: Or, no, who was Dob?

Milo: Blaine.

Wayne: Blaine. And it was Blaine and Lloyd.

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: Right.

Milo: And Lynn.

Wayne: And Lynn.

Milo: And Lois.

Wayne: We’re they Ire’s – –

Milo: Ire’s kids.

Wayne: Kids.

Milo: But everybody had cows. Everybody drove their cows from Plain City out to pastures.

Wayne: Right.

Milo: Carvers done the same thing.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And – –

Wayne: Some came east, some went west.

Milo: Did I tell you about the log cabin, the Carvers – –

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Okay. I’ll tell you about the log cabin in Plain City. The kids got into the old log cabin they had a roof over it to protect it. And the kids got in there after the war and they – – they play up on the roof of the old cabin house, between that and the roof that they put over it to protect it. And they got to using it for a latrine. Instead of getting down, they’d urinate. And in summer, you go down there to help fix up the old log cabin house, it smelled so bad, you couldn’t hardly stand the odor. So the daughters of pioneers – – who had it at that time, Gladys? Aunt Vic Hunt?

Gladys: Aunt Vic Hunt was one of the leaders.

Milo: Who was the other one?

Wayne: Mindi?

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: In Moyes?

Milo: Oh, the Carver girl. Bud Carver’s daughter.

Wayne: Beth?

Gladys: Beth.

Milo: Beth.

Wayne: Oh, okay.

Milo: She had me come down and see what to do with the log cabin house, the Carver log cabin house. They wanted to kind of restore it and keep it because it was going down to nothing.

Wayne : Yeah.

Milo: The plaster and everything was falling out of the walls.

Wayne: That’s when it was down here by Walt’s

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: But the plaster and everything was falling out of the walls and the roof and the ceiling and all the thing was going down . The windows were broke out and everything like that. So I went down and I told them, I says, I’ll fix it up, but I’m not gonna leave that roof on top because that’s where the kids are doing your damage. I’m gonna take it all down, and make the log cabin, the Carver log cabin, so everybody can admire it. So I – – over years, I’ve kept the log cabin up. And Rosella Maw, Arlo Maw’s wife has a key to it now. Where I used to have a key, now they won’t let me have a key to it anymore. Since Rosella Maw took over, I don’t have a key.

Gladys: (unintelligible)

Milo: Huh?

Gladys: Rosella wants it.

Milo: Rosella Maw.

Wayne: We were in it just Saturday because there was a Carver reunion and Joanne went over to Rosella and got the key.

Milo: You have to get the key.

Wayne: We went in.

Milo: I used to have a key.

Wayne: That’s a shame

Milo: I took care of it all my life, you understand?

Wayne : Yeah.

Milo: Since the war and- –

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And I fixed it all up and I put them big heavy shakes shingles on it and everything and I’ve put the mud back in the walls and fixed it up. And I’ve put the steel gate and that on there. And the windows. I’ve fixed it all up. And I’ve put great big long spikes through some of the logs, drove them spikes in through there so they cannot pull them out.

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: See, I’ve cut the heads off the spikes and drove them – –

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: – -right in so kids – – and the kids use to tear them apart. They’d take a log out and go through. And that’s why them spikes are in there, put all them in there. But over the years, Harold Carver- – Harold Carver donated money to president Calvert to shingle it and fix it up, some money one time.

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: So president Calvert said he had this, money and that for it. And I says, well, let me tear the roof and that all off and, let me fix it so it’s nice. So that’s why theses thick but shingles are on there, them big slate shingles, and that.

Wayne: Uh-huh.

Milo: But otherwise, you wouldn’t have a Carver building.

Wayne: I hadn’t known that, you know, Milo.

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: I’m really proud that that’s the Carver thing up there.

Milo: I am too.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Because the Carvers meant a lot to me.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Yeah. Your dad, your mother was – – they were gold to us. They shared their garden with us. She’d pick beans and stuff and say, Gladys, would you like a mess of beans? Gladys says, yes, I’ll be over to pick them. She’d go over to pick them, they were already picked.

Wayne: Yeah.

Gladys: I had to take care of my handicapped daughter and that before I could go pick.

Milo: But you see – –

Gladys: Already had them picked.

Milo: The Carvers- – the Carvers had really been a dad and mother to a lot of us.

Wayne: I remember – – I’ve got a letter, you wrote dad a letter – –

Milo: In the war.

Wayne: – – in the war. A very tender letter, yeah.

Milo: But it come from my heart.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Do you know why I wrote him a letter? Sent me a card. Joe Hunt sent me a card. Do you understand it?

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: You never forget that.

Wayne: No. Yeah.

Milo: But I – – I am a high-decorated soldier. I was turned in for Congressional Medal of Honor and one of the lieutenants wouldn’t sign it.

Wayne: Oh.

Milo: You have to have two signatures. But I did get a Silver Star.

Wayne: Right.

Milo: Do you understand me?

Wayne: Yeah. Did you ever meet George Whalen that got the Congressional medal?

Milo: No.

Wayne: The Slater Villegas kid?

Milo: He was – –

Wayne: He was in the navy- –

Milo: – – Paramedics.

Wayne: Yeah, he was in – – oh, well, ever sorry you came back to Plain City?

Milo: Well, I’ve lived in Plain City all my life.

Wayne: I know.

Milo: Plain City’s been our home all of our lives. Its, like I was telling you about my dad, everybody told me not to go see him, I went and seen him. And I’m glad I went and seen him.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo : You understand me? And this Japanese girl I was telling you about, if she is a daughter or relative to that guy that I took prisoner of war, my heart will be full of joy to think that I saved another generation of families.

Wayne: Right, but – – that will be one of the great miracles of all time- –

Milo: It can happen.

Wayne: – – If – -if she finds someone out of that – –

Milo: It’s could be.

Wayne: Oh, it could be. I don’t doubt that it could be.

Milo: It could be.

Wayne: But it’s called a miracle.

Milo: Miracle.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: But it does happen every day.

Wayne: Yeah? So I know Harold lives over in West Weber.

Milo: West Weber.

Wayne: Paul was killed, you say?

Milo: My brother Paul? He died in a barn at Ed Sharp’s.

Wayne: Your brother.

Milo: My brother. See, they were playing in the barn up at Ed Sharp’s and he fell out of the barn and broke his arm and concussion of the head, broke his head open.

Wayne: How old was he then?

Milo: Paul would have to be about nine or 11, somewhere in there.

Wayne: So that happened not long after you came back to Plain City.

Milo: We came back home down here.

Wayne: And your sister – –

Milo: June.

Wayne: – – June.

Milo: She’s still alive and living in California. In Anaheim, I think she lived down around Anaheim, (unintelligible) district area. But tell him – – tell him about the letters aunt Vic Hunt was gonna give me, then she didn’t give me the cigar box.

Gladys: I’ve got some letters. And they’re Milo’s, they were sent to Milo’s, and I’ve kept them all these years and I wanna give them to him. Se me and Milo went over this night. And she says, well, they’re upstairs. I’ll have to go upstairs and get them. So she opened that door to go upstairs, then she come back and says, no, Milo, I don’t think I’m gonna give you these letters yet. So Milo never got those letters.

Milo: She’s handed me the cigar box.

Gladys: She handed them to him, then took them back.

Milo: I says, Aunt Vic, if that means that much to you, you take this box back. I never got the box.

Wayne: And you said you think you know who has that?

Milo: I think Archie Hunt’s family got it.

Wayne: Archie.

Milo: But I’m not never gonna say anything to Archie Hunt.

Wayne: Now, who – – yeah.

Milo: It’s Bert. That would be Fred Hunt’s- –

Wayne: Did Archie marry Carol?

Milo: Yeah. Ralph Taylor.

Wayne: Ralph and Elma’s, yeah.

Milo: What’s in that box, little bit of money and that was in that box, do you understand? Were the gifts that they’d sent me.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Gold pieces and stuff like that. I really don’t care. Silver certificate notes, gold notes. You know, they had silver and gold certificates then, you know.

Wayne: I’ve heard of them. I don’t remember seeing them.

Milo: Well, I got some.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: But I got – -but I will – – I’ll – – I’ll fix you up a copy of my citations.

Wayne: I’d appreciate that a lot. And I’m not gonna have time to see – –

Milo: Now, Frank – – Frank Hadley has got a lot of history about the baseball playing. And he’s got a lot about Milo Ross pitching the ball game, 13 strikeouts, 12 strikeouts, 11 strikeouts, you know what I mean? No hitters.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: And Frank Hadley has all of that. But I’ve never been able to get him- –

Wayne: has he got the score books?

Milo: Yes.

Wayne: Has he?

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: I’ve gotta go over and talk to him.

Milo: Yeah.

Gladys: He’d love to see you.

Wayne: What?

Milo: You know where he lives.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Down there.

Wayne: Yeah. I see him in the winter at st. George.

Milo: Do you go down there?

Wayne: We’ve been renting a place, so we go whenever we can find a place to live.

Milo: Archie Hunt has a home in – – ground in St. George, Archie Hunt. And they rent that out.

Wayne: Oh.

Milo: So maybe you ought to get a hold Archie Hunt and put a trailer on there once in a while.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: Are you still teaching?

Wayne: No. I retired.

Milo: You’ve retired

Wayne: Yeah. I taught until was 70 and decided that was enough.

Milo: Dr. Burst has a son that he’s – – Nicholas. Just put him in Stanford, California for $31,000 for one year, schooling. Thirty, thirty-one thousand.

Wayne: Yeah, I can believe it. My school is about 28.

Milo: Yeah.

Wayne: Yeah. And there are families that have got two or three kids – –

Milo: Right.

Wayne: – – that – – I couldn’t afford Weber College.

Milo: Well, that’s the way – –

Wayne: Which was 56 a year.

Milo: But I have that grandson there that picks up close to $52,000 on paper – –

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: – – Besides what other he gets. When they went back to these here scholarship meetings and stuff like this, they give them tapes, they give them the recordings, they gave them pamphlets for the computers.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: They pick up like- – what did he tell us – – $7,000 in these pamphlets and stuff for the computers, disk and stuff like that.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: They’re gifts to these kids. If you had to buy them, it’s amazing.

Gladys : He’s just a very smart boy and he isn’t a smart alec

He’s just as nice as can be.

Milo: He’s nice like his father and his grandfather.

Wayne: Yeah.

Milo: But you take – – you take the Carver family, probably respected more than any family in Plain City that I’ve ever known, the Carver family.

Wayne: Yeah, well, I’m real pleased to hear that. I’m, you know, it’s been so long since I’ve lived here, I – -and it almost breaks my heart when I see the that the old town has disappeared, you know, bears no relationship.

Milo: You see, I remodeled your dad’s place.

Wayne: Oh, I thought that’s all you did. I didn’t know you worked for contractors.

Milo: Well, I worked for contract- –

Wayne: You built mom’s kitchen that she was so proud of.

Milo: I got underneath the floor, put the floor back together. There wasn’t even any floor under it.

Wayne: I don’t know what’s in there now.

Milo: Your family’s in there.

Wayne: Well, it breaks Joan heart the way Lorin and Carolyn have just let it – –

Milo: They let it go.

Wayne: Yeah. Well- –

(Tape Ends.)

Sunday, 5 May 2019 by Sagacity

The Story of Anna Elizabeth Reber

I stumbled upon this history written about Anna Elizabeth Reber. Anna was the third spouse to my John Christoph Nuffer. He married her 28 September 1893 in the Logan Utah Temple after my 3rd Great Grandmother Eva Katharina Greiner died 26 February 1893 in Mapleton, Franklin, Idaho. I thought it was interesting to review the life of a later spouse for John Christoph Nuffer. If you would like to review the pdf with pictures and more, it is attached here: Reber

The Story of Anna Elizabeth Reber

We would like to acknowledge dedicated genealogists who have preserved for decades the oral histories, journals, and handwritten records used in this story.

Faith and Courage

The Story of Anna Elizabeth Reber

By: Christine A. Quinn and Sterling D. Quinn

Graphic design by: Michelle Quinn, Au.D.

2017

Anna Elizabeth Reber

Early Years in Switzerland

1855-1875

Frau Reber felt only gratitude that her new baby was alive and had not died as had her last child. This little girl, born May 17, 1855, would complete their family of three sons and three daughters. They named the child Anna Elizabeth to distinguish her from her older sisters, Anna and Barbara. Later in life this child would come to be known simply as “Annie.”

The family was settled on the Reber’s ancestral farm in Schangnau, Bern, Switzerland where they spoke a unique Bern dialect of Swiss German, or Schwyzertutsch (Luck 1985). It was a small country village dotted with chalets, settled in the forested and fertile Emmental valley along the Emme and Aare rivers. It has been said, “An who have wandered through such magnificent forests as those of …Emmental, will never forget the berries, the mushrooms, the neatly arranged stacks of firewood, the beautifully colored autumn foliage, and the grey low-hanging mists and frost-decorated conifers of early winter” (Luck, 1985 p. 470). For hundreds of years in this valley the same industrious group of families had raised cattle for milk and cheese, while nurturing vineyards, orchards and crops.

This was a Switzerland just emerging from the hated status of a vassal state to the French Emperor Napoleon, an indignity thrown off seven years prior. Hope arose as the impoverished and beleaguered people named the central city of Bern to be the capital of the new Swiss Confederation (Luck) 1985).

The child Annie grew nurtured in the love of her family. Little girls in Switzerland wew taught the virtues of being clean, neat, punctual, thrifty, independent, and hard working. There were cows to be milked as well as household chores to be done. Annie would have been taught to knit and sew the linen, silk, and cotton fabrics for which the Swiss were famous. Education was also encouraged.

Tragedy visited the family when Annie’s 21 year old brother, Jacob, died in the fall of 1861. This loss left an indelible impression on the six year old girl, enough that many years later she ensured saving ordinances were performed on his behalf in a temple of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS).

Marriage and Family

1875-1890

How Annie and her future husband, Gottfried Weiermann, met is a mystery, but Bern did enjoy the reputation of being “more lively and sociable than any other town in Switzerland”. Men and women came together to amuse themselves with English country dances as well as waltzes (Luck, 1985 p. 255)

The Weiermann family worked the land and raised cattle for many generations in the village of Wynigen, a little over 20 miles northeast of the city of Bern. Rather than compete with five brothers for farmland, Gottfried decided to try his hand at the ancient profession of stone masonry. At age 23 when he met Annie, he had perhaps finished his apprenticeship and therefore gained some freedom to marry.

The couple were likely wed in the Protestant church in Wynigen on 21 August 1875. At the time, Annie was only months away from giving birth. The couple affectionately named this child after his father, Gottfried, but he was known as “Fred”. Although he was a sickly child, Fred would survive to bring his mother much joy and comfort until the end of her life.

Less than two years later the family moved again to Ferenberg where Anne gave birth to twins, Andre and Peter. They survived only a day, which tragically was not uncommon at that time as one out of every five births in Switzerland ended in death (Luck, 1985).

A year later Gottfried moved his family closer to the city of Bern to Ostermundigen, the largest regional quarry center in Switzerland. A special train with a cog in the center had been invented six years earlier to haul the thick, soft, and colorful sandstone up from the mines. Previously this job relied on horse or mule tams. The train made it possible to quarry enough stone for export, while also enabling urban expansion of Bern, which demanded massive amounts of stone for new buildings. Up to 500 men were working as either quarry men, Steinbrecher, who extracted the stone, or stone masons, Steinhau, who skillfully dressed, shaped, and cut the stone. Of the two, stone masons enjoyed a higher social status. The stone masons of Bern had an established fraternity in the city since 1321 (Storemyr, 2012). Gottfried, along with other craftsmen, flocked to this bountiful source of work.

Next to the noisy and dusty train yard, families of stone masons resided in multistory slums (Storemyr, 2012). Laundry hanging between tenements flapped in the wind while the narrow dirty streets teemed with children of all ages. Families crowded into tiny, tightly packed rooms, sharing limited sanitation facilities. “The wages were exceedingly low and people extremely poor” (Stucki 1888, Nov. 20). Stomachs were never full. In 1876, Swiss families were spending 60 % of their income on food. “A typical diet for the older children and adults consisted of coffee, black tea, or cocoa water with a little milk, some cheese and bread. ….The midday meal typically consisted of boiled potatoes, pasta, cheese, and coffee or tea, and wine. The evening meal was usually of cheese and a vegetable soup – the latter being made by boiling together leeks, cabbage, beetroot, potatoes, and pasta” (Luck, 1985, p.p. 249,441).

In the spring of 1878 with the aid of a midwife, 23 year old Annie gave birth to a son, Christian, and in September of the next year to a daughter, Ida. Like all their neighbors, the family fought for financial survival. Not quite 4 years old, Fred would have been responsible for helping keep his little sister safe and happy as their mother cared for her new infant. Imagine her efforts in washing cloth diapers and keeping a clean house under those circumstances! Years later Annie’s daughter, Ida, reflected her mother’s standards when she said, “Just because you are poor, you don’t need to be dirty” (Arave, 2017).

The Weiermanns had lived in Ostermundigen at least five years when on 2 August 1883 they welcomed a blonde curly-haired baby boy into their home. He was named Jacob after his maternal grandfather and deceased uncle.

Two years later Annie was expecting a child for her final time. Due to unknown circumstances (perhaps poverty or a medical crisis), she traveled an hour to the hospital in Bern on a cold December day in 1885 where she gave birth to a small girl who didn’t survive (Weyerman, G). They named her Anna.

At this point, the family consisted of Gottfried age 33, Annie age 30, Fred age 10, Christian 7, Ida 6, and Jacob age 2. Gottfried may have occasionally taken his oldest son to the stone yard to teach him aspects of his craft, because in later years Fred was known as a skilled stone mason (Weyerman G).

Gottfried’s pursued recreation of heavy drinking with the stone mason’s fraternity began to affect the Weiermann family. Workers bonded over alcohol, and Ostermundigen quarry men became legendary for schnapps consumption (Storemyr, 2012). Unfortunately, Gottfried’s drinking created a fissure in his marriage. Circumstances only worsened with the death of 10-year-old Christian on 4 June 1887. The cause is unknown; it may have been an accident, or one of the many infectious diseases rampant at that time such as influenza, smallpox, diphtheria, tuberculosis, Typhus fever, or measles (Luck, 1985).

Annie and Gottfried’s marriage soon reached a breaking point and ended in divorce (Weiermann, I. 1955). Years later in a heart-wrenching remembrance, Fred wrote, “My parents lived financially poor. Conditions brought it about that the family got badly broken up and scattered. Three of my brothers and one sister was called on the other side. In the year 1887, the rest of my family met the sad experience of the separation of Father and Mother on account of drunkenness” (Weyerman, G).

Desperate to provide for her children, Annie hired out as a seamstress, one of the few professions available to women that would allow her to care for little ones at home (Wheeler, I.). Wages were notoriously low; a decade later, women making shirts in their homes were earning less than a penny an hour, and often worked more than 12 hours a day (Cadbury, 2011). Bending over and straining to see tiny stitches by the dim light of an oil lamp was exhausting. “As one of the infamous sweated trades, seamstressing represented the trails of arduous work, miserable working conditions, impossibly long hours, and equally impossibly low wages” (Harris, chap. 2.). The older children most likely helped their mother by doing the chores and mining their siblings; but life soon changed for 11 year old Fred in a way that must have torn at his mother’s heart.

Because of the family’s poverty and her status as a divorced mother, Annie was legally compelled to register with one of the councils in Ostermundigen responsible to care for the poor and orphans. If it was believed the children could not be provided for this council had the power to break up the poorest families. Despite Annie’s courageous efforts to support her children, the council forced Fred to enter into foster care, there he became known as a “Verdingkinder”, or literally “discarded child” (Foulkes, 2012).

In this sad circumstance, the amiable and music-loving Fred was taken from his mother and given into the custody of a gentleman who lived in Habstetten, about an hour’s walk from his family. There, Fred attended school and helped with the chores. He longed for his family, and visited his mother whenever he could obtain permission (Weyerman,G).

“Oh! But for one short hour!

A respite however brief!

No Blessed leisure for love or hope,

But in their briny bed

My tears must stop, for every drop

Hiders needle and thread!”

With fingers weary and worn,

With eyelids heavy and red,

A woman sat in unwomanly rags,

Plying her needle and thread —

-Thomas Hood

“Song of the Shirt”

Within a year after these turbulent events, Annie received an invitation from her neighbor to meet with missionaries, or Elders, from LDS church. Members of this faith were commonly known as Mormons. After meeting several times, Annie began to take her children along to Sunday School and other meetings (Wheeker, I). Annie almost immediately recognized the simplicity and truthfulness of the long awaited and newly restored church of Jesus Christ. Her countrymen had been searching for this truth through the Protestant Reformation for over 300 years (Luck, 1985). One can imagine the gospel of Jesus Christ calming her soul and assuaging her fears at a time of life when it was most needed.

Annie, Ida, and Jacob began a formal study of Mormonism with young Elder Alfred Budge, who taught them the first principles of the gospel (Weyerman, G). Annie may have read the tract, Die Froke Botschaft, (Glad Tidings of Great Joy), or Glaubenskekenntniss, (The Articles of Faith) (Reiser). In time, she received a witness from the Holy Ghost that Christ’s church had been restored to the earth through the young American prophet, Joseph Smith Jr. Despite some local persecution, she and Ida were soon converted and baptized by Elder Budge in late October 1888. At this time, Jacob had not yet reached the age of 8 years old required for baptism (Wheeler, I).

Arriving at church on Sundays took an hour of walking into downtown Bern, where Annie and her children wound through cobblestone streets lined with ancient stone houses standing side by side like soldiers at attention. They knew they were getting close to their destination when they heard the Sabbath bells pealing from the gothic tower of the Bern cathedral. Soon they arrived at the mission office where church services were held. The many families who attended the Bern Branch may have eaten a modest lunch as the fellowshipped between morning and evening meetings. Every week the congregation took the sacrament and listened to preaching by either Mission President Stucki, the local Branch President, or one of the Elders. A volunteer choir provided uplifting music (Stucki, 1837-1918).

Around this time Fred went to live with another foster family in the closer town of Ittigen, which shortened the walk to see his loved ones. During Fred’s visits, his mother earnestly shared with him the principles of the new religion she was learning. It was her heart’s desire that he would be baptized and join the church.

Swiss/German

Missionaries

1880-1890

The Mormon missionaries in the region of Bern were led by John Ulrich Stucki. A native of Switzerland, Stucki had been living in the territory of Utah at the time of his assignment to serve as the Swiss/German Mission President. This would be the second time he accepted this weighty responsibility.

Not only would Stucki be responsible for the 13 traveling Elders in the mission; he would also publish the monthly LDS newsletter, “Der Stern”, and he would administer from his office in Bern all the branches of the church in Germany and Switzerland. Added to these weighty responsibilities was overseeing the twice yearly emigration to Utah made by Swiss and German Mormons. These members wishing to join others of their faith in the building up of “Zion” would leave their homes and travel to the Rocky Mountains of the United States of America (Stucki, 1837-1918).

Accompanying Presiden Stucki to the mission field was 19 year old Alfred Budge, the son of Stucki’s good friend, William Budge. What thoughts and anticipations might have filled the young elder’s mind as he contemplated his father’s earlier mission to Switzerland in 1854, “when opposition to the church was so violent that within three months he was on thirteen occasions placed under arrest and imprisoned for short periods, and finally was obligated to return to England!” (Budge, W).

When President Stucki and Elder Budge arrived in Switzerland on 15 May 1888 Elder Budge did not speak German (Stucki, 1837-1918). Five months later he was teaching the Weiermann family in Ostermundigan using their native tongue (Wheeler, I).

Working with Elder Budge was the pleasant-mannered Elder Albert Schneider Reiser from Salt Lake City. His Swiss parents spoke German at home, so he had the advantage of being familiar with the language.

Seventeen old Albert had been forced to grow up fast after his father, along with many faithful LDS men, was incarcerated by the United States government for the common practice of polygamy. To support his family, Albert took charge of their clock repair business in downtown Salt Lake. He delivered customers’ clocks to the prison, where his father repaired them. Interestingly, Elder Budge’s father was converted to the LDS faith in Scotland, and Elder Reiser’s in Switzerland; yet they both emigrated to America on the same ship and crossed the plains to Utah in the same wagon train 28 years earlier in 1860 (Reiser).

Switzerland to United States

Emigration

1890

Elder Reiser arrived in Switzerland just a few days after Annie’s baptism, and began helping to teach the Weiermann family (Stucki 1837-1918). The missionaries had with them some pictures of Utah. For decades, Mormon converts in Europe had been encouraged by church leaders to gather to “Zion” in the American West. Surely ideas of emigration were planted by visiting Elders and church officials, but when accused of being an emigration agent, Elder Reiser remarked: “It was not my business to persuade people to emigrate, but to bring them the Gospel….there was only one true church….[I] told them how important it was for mankind to investigate Joseph Smith’s message….”(Reiser).

One late summer morning Fred joined his family on their brisk walk to church. His mother made an astonishing announcement that she had arranged for them to emigrate to Zion! Because the children had received an inheritance from the death of their father’s Aunt Isali, they could afford to emigrate. The family would be reunited and travel together to start a new life with the Saints in Utah. (Weyerman, G.)

After the day’s church services, Annie shared with the mission president some of her worries about Fred’s situation. President Stucki lovingly took hold of her hands and prophesied, “Fear not, for your son Gottfried. He will be the means of bringing many souls into the church” (Weyerman, G). Within 10 days, Annie and her three children, led by President Stucki and joined by Elder Budge, began their odyssey to Zion.

The miracle of emigration did not take place without Annie’s heroic effort and faith. President Stucki promised that if the saints paid their tithing, a way would be opened up for them to join the saints in Zion (Stucki, July 31, 1888). The children’s inheritance from their great aunt had been put into an untouchable trust. With nerve and steely determination, the slight-built Annie faced authorities and requested they give her the funds to use for emigration to America. When they refused, she threatened to leave without the children and then the state could raise them! After this ultimatum, they relented and granted her the inheritance of 500 Swiss francs (Weiermann, I., 1955).

Annie delivered the money to President Stucki, who hired agents from the Guion shipping line to purchase train and steamer tickets. These agents arranged transportation, loding, and food, and also oversaw the moving of luggage from Switzerland to England and then on to America. President Stucki also took care of details such as procuring bedding, tinware, etc. to be forwarded to the steamer for the transatlantic crossing (Stucki, 1937-1918).

In preparation for the voyage, Annie made some traditional hard dry Swiss bread, then fried it in butter to be their principal diet. The missionaries taught them how to say “hot water” in English, so they could request some to pour over their bread, thus making it edible (Wheeler, F 1948). Then the family of four packed all their worldly goods into five pieces of luggage (Mormon Migration). They were now ready to travel over 5,000 miles to join the Saints in Utah.

“May God Bless Them All and Bring

Them Safely into the Bosom of the

Church and Kingdom of God”

This was the fourth and final emigration that President Stucki oversaw during this mission. He and Elder Budge wew being released from their callings to return home to America with the emigrating saints. Feelings were tender in the Bern branches the day before departure when President Stucki preached his farewell sermon in Sacrament Meeting. Since his arrival two years earlier, he served the saints daily while surviving fever and smallpox. At the close of the meeting it is likely they sang the Swiss hymn, “May God Bless Them All and Bring Them Safely in the Bosom of the Church and Kingdom of God” (Stucki, 1837-1918).

The next morning, Monday, 1 September 1890, Annie (35), Fred (14), Ida (10), and Jacob (7) began their pilgrimage by boarding the train in Bern. Who can know the conflicted feelings that must have been in their hearts? These may have involved jow, excitement, and hope of a new life in America among the Saints of God; mixed with the regret of leaving loved ones and the magnificent country of their birth. Years later when Fred saw a newsreel about the Alps in Switzerland he sat and wept from homesickness for his native land. He commented, “The beauty of that land could not be found anywhere else”. (Weyerman, G).

At 10:30 a.m. the saints were on their way north to the border city of Basel entertaining themselves with singing. Arriving after noon, the train pulled into Basel to pick up the missionaries as well as 13 members of the faithful Gygi family. To everyone’s horror Rudolph Gygi, the father, had been stabbed the night before in the face by a mob of hoodlums who thought he was taking his six daughters to be enslaved in polygamy (Gygi).

Through the night and into Tuesday, the travelers continued north by train into Belgium. It was 2 September, Ida’s 11th birthday. Perhaps she made friends with Anna and Elisa Gygi and helped them watch their younger brothers and sisters. At the late hour of 11:00 p.m. the weary saints arrived in the port city of Antwerp. The Swiss emigrants were met at the train station by their agent who provided a wagon to transport their luggage and at least seven children under age 10 to a boarding house. Before retiring, all received refreshment, which could have been soup, meat, vegetables, coffee, and bread (Stucki, J. 1837-1918).

After a night’s rest, the Swiss saints united with about 51 emigrating converts from Germany who spoke German so differently that neither group could understand the other. Together this made 72 travelers. Once again they loaded their belongings onto a wagon to transport them down to the dock where the shop was moored (Stucki 1937-1918.) There the family had their first glimpse of the vast sea and all the ships and business of the bustling Antwerp harbor. Searching for words, Ida wrote as an old woman, :The trip across the ocean was quite – I don’t know what you would call it – an experience to us” (Weiermann,I. 1955).

All boarded the steamer, which launched into the North Sea shortly after noon. Their destination was the port of Hull on England’s eastern shore (Woods & Evans 2002). For many, this was the first time on the open sea. Spirits were high and the saints passed time with singing hymns of praise, or conversion pleasantly. President Stucki recorded, “the vessel went steady, sea sickness was therefore very light and confined to but few” (Stucki 1837-1918).

They traveled all night to reach Hull on Thursday at 3:00 in the morning. The ship could not dock at low tide, so the passengers had to transfer in the dark to a tugboat that took them to shore. Ida remembered the confusion, “While crossing the North Sea, something went wrong with the ship and we had to change ships. Somehow we lost a roll of bedding, which we needed very much” (Stucki 1837-1918) (Weiermann, I., 1955). Despite the hassle of getting ashore, the emigrants were met by a kindly agent who examined their luggage to verify it was duty-free. He also saw that the hungry Saints received something to eat before boarding a train late in the day.

Lulled to sleep by the clicking -clacking rhythm of the steam train’s wheels, the adventures slept most of the six-hour 140 mile journey across England to Liverpool. They arrived before dawn on Friday morning (Stucki, 1837-1918).

September 1890

MON 01 Train: Bern – Basel

TUES 02 Train: Antwerp

WED 03 Boat: Antwerp – Hull

Thurs 04 Train: Hull – Liverpool

FRI 05 Liverpool – Immigration House

SAT 06 Loading of the ship, off at 3pm

SUN 07 Atlantic Crossing Day 1 – Queenstown

MON 08 Atlantic Crossing Day 2 – 294 miles

TUES 09 Atlantic Crossing Day 3 – 300 miles

WED 10 Atlantic Crossing Day 4 – 320 miles

THURS 11 Atlantic Crossing Day 5 – 298 miles

FRI 12 Atlantic Crossing Day 6 – Newfoundland

SAT 13 Atlantic Crossing Day 7 – 314 miles

SUN 14 Atlantic Crossing Day 8 – 320 miles

MON 15 Atlantic Crossing Day 9 – 298 – miles

TUE 16 Atlantic Crossing Day 10 – 308 miles

Arrival in New York, USA

WED 17 Luggage and Customs

TRAIN CROSSING TO UTAH & IDAHO

SUN 28 Train: Montpelier, ID

Wagon and Buggy to Paris, ID

Once again, shipping hires by President Stucki greeted the Mormon converts upon their arrival to Liverpool. This city situated on the western coast of England was considered in the nineteenth century the most active international port of emigration in the world. It was also home to the British Mission, and served as the administrative headquarters for the LDS church in Europe (Woods & Evans, p.91).

Passengers were not allowed to board their ships until either the day before or the day of departure (Liverpool); thus, the saints were taken to an immigration house to wait, eat, and rest for a day (Stucki, 1837-1918).

Meanwhile, it was LDS church procedure that every emigration company have a Presidency. They would watch over the saints, conduct Sunday services, and see that everyone reached their destination. John U. Stucki acted as President, and selected Alfred Budge and C. Meyer as his counselors. The day before departure, they were called and set apart by the British mission president, George Teasdale (Stucki, 1857-1918) (Mormon Migration Database, 1890, Sept. 6).

The sleek 366.2 ft steamer S/S Wisconsin, piloted by Captain Worral, waited patiently at port to receive her passengers (Mormon migration database, 1890, Sept. 6). She was one of a fleet of 16 ships run by the Liverpool and Great Western Steamship Company, known commonly as the “Guion Line.” For 20 years the company’s ships had been launching twice a week to transport passengers and mail from Liverpool to New York. A typical trip across the Atlantic took a week. At a time when there was no air travel, they were known as “ocean greyhounds” (Guion) (Miller).

All day Saturday September 6 a steady stream of humanity carting trunks, baskets, bags, and bed rolls trudged up the ramp of the stately steamship with its tall dark smokestack. Seventy-six first staterooms as well as spacious dining rooms. Thy were joined by 100 intermediate passengers.

Then the Weiermann family joined a mass of 800 impoverished voyagers crowded into the notorious “steerage” section below deck (miller). Annie, Ida, and Jacob were together in the Port Aft Steerage, while Fred was assigned Fore Steerage, perhaps because he was an older single male (Mormon migration Database, 1890, Sep.6).

It was a cacophony of humanity: men women and children from many countries speaking a babble of languages. Each passenger was assigned a number on a canvas berth. When not in use the berths could be neatly stowed away making space for tables and seats during the day. The journey would be no luxury cruise for these steerage passengers. Conditions were cramped, food was poor, and the atmosphere often bad; especially during rough weather when access to the upper deck was restricted. (Solem).

By 3:00 PM the ship’s crew drew up anchor. All passengers went on deck, waving white handkerchiefs and throwing hats as they watched England slowly shrink into the horizon. With this fanfare, Annie and her family bid farewell to their old life, and looked with hope to a brighter future in America, the land of opportunity.

As the ship glided into the night, the Swiss converts completed the irs six days of their traveling adventure. When the sun came up it was a beautiful morning and the sea was as smooth as glass. President Stucki would have liked to conduct Sunday services, but the ship was too crowded and there was nowhere they could meet without disturbing someone.

By Late morning they reached the southern seaport of Ireland’s Queenstown harbor, where they remained for an hour or so to pick up more passengers. Soon after moving out, they were engulfed in a dense blanket of fog. Everyone listened with suspense to a shrill whistle blow in rapid succession waning other floating vessels of their presence. Soon all was well as they glided out of the fog into weather as fine as before. Although the steamer was quite steady, some began to get sea sick (Stucki, 1837-1918).

By Monday, several of the women and a baby were pretty sick, which kept President Stucki and his counselors busy. Ida and her brothers were focused on the adventure and didn’t seem to mind the discomforts of travel. She said, “We used to go up on deck all the time. The sailors would take us skating across it. We really had a good time – us kids did when we wasn’t sick” (Weiermann, I., 1955).

If the passengers weren’t sick on Monday, many became queasy on the next day when a wind made the sea rough and caused the ship to pitch and roll.

An English convert traveling a few years earlier on the same ship described a similar chaotic event:

“….Towards night the wind began to raise rather rough and the captain shouted out from the upper deck, “Look out for a storm.” The sailors began to run from one end of the ship to the other with large chains and ropes….We was then all ordered down below. Pots, pans, buckets, and everything that was not fast was rolling about. Old people falling down, young ones laughing at the fun but did not last long. A large rope had been placed all along the water closets for protection. During the time we was standing by this rope waiting to get in the closets, our ship gave another sudden roll and we fell over this rope, old and young, head and tail together, vomiting on each other. Girls screaming, boys laughing, old men and women grumbling, children crying” (Horsley, S., 1877, September 19-29).

The Ship continued to roll heavy with water pouring over the deck clear into Wednesday. Soon even President Stucki and Elder Budge were sick too (Stucki, 1837-1918.) Years later Ida recalled, “When we were sick we would have to go on deck every day no matter how sick you were. But we got across” (Weiermann, I. 1955).

On Thursday quite a number of suffering women remained in their berths. Crowded conditions below deck caused the air to become fetid with disagreeable body odors, strange foods, vomit, waste, and ship oil. Mercifully, the temperatures were quite cool (Stucki, 1837-1918).

By the sixth day at sea the weather improved, the ship steadied, and everyone felt much more cheerful. Despite the rather chilly stiff breeze most passengers enjoyed a refreshing interlude basking in the sun on deck. Some excitedly observed an iceberg silhouetted against the horizon about ten miles to the left (Stucki, 1837-1918).

At last after being a sea for a week, the ship entered cal waters off the coast of Newfoundland. Some of the sick were beginning to feel better; everyone felt happier and more hopeful. In the afternoon, steerage passengers had to pass a routine health inspection, and if necessary receive vaccinations. This was in the interest of the shipping company to avoid paying a hefty fee for any unhealthy passengers.

Sunday, President Stucki conducted church services in he saloon, or the first class public area of the ship. The next few days passed without incident. There was some rain, but much to the passengers. President Stucki notes in his journal, “If it had been as warm all the way as the first two days, there would no doubt have been a good deal of sickness; the Lord is overruling all things for good.” (Stucki, 1837-1918).

On Tuesday afternoon, to everyone’s great joy and anticipation,their destination was sighted! All the immigrants strained to see the fabled America. With gratitude and relief for a safe journey, the travelers watched the New York skyline slowly grow into view. Their hearts certainly swelled at the first glimpse of the magnificent and newly erected Statue of Liberty. Majestically she lifted her lamp to greet the “huddled masses yearning to breathe free”. (Lazarus, 1883). They passed Staten or “Quarantine” Island at 5:00 that evening, pulling up to the pier at 7:15 p.m. It was 16 September 1890; the first day of their life in America!

Heavy rain caused some delay the next day, but the baggage was unloaded by Wednesday noon, and an examination made by custom house officers. Since the Immigration Station on Ellis Island was under construction, new arrivals were taken to the temporary Barge Office located in Castle Clinton at Battery Park on the southern tip of Manhattan Island (Ellis Island Immigration Museum.) There all steerage passengers had to pass inspection or be sent back. Ida years later remembered the tense time in this way, “When we arrived at Ellis Island (sic), [mother] did not have the necessary amount of money the government required of those coming into this country, so she showed them a letter of proposal of marriage she had received from a convert who was already in the United States, and let them believe she was coming to marry him” (Weiermann, I. 1955) (Wheeler, F., 1948).

When all was cleared and the immigration process finished President Stucki concluded in a letter, “We are very thankful to our Heavenly Father for the many blessings received thus far, and feel to trust in him for our safe arrival in the land of his choice” (Mormon Migration database 6 Sept. 1890-Sept. 1890.).

It isn’t known for sure which railroad route the Weiermann family and their fellow saints took west. Nevertheless as they crossed the continent, vast flat prairie lands would seem endless to someone from a tiny country encircled by tall mountains. It was an adventure with pleasures for wide-eyed travelers. Ida thrilled to see wild horses running with the train (Wheeler, I., 1955). Fred with gratitude recorded, “We had good health and lots of pleasure on our journey both on train and ship”. (Weyerman, G).

Most of the European immigrants were destined for the Utah towns of Salt Lake City, Provo, Payson, Logan, and Nephi. About 21 of the weary saints stayed on the train to travel northwest into the new state of Idaho. They arrived in the frontier town of Montpelier on 28 September 1890. Continuing on by wagon and buggy, the Weiermann family, returning missionaries, and others rolled 10 miles south to the tiny town of Paris, Idaho. Fred remembered, “Elders Stucki and Budge were also glad to get home and and had all things arranged for hospitality.” (Weyerman, G) (Stocker, J).

In Paris, the red sandstone of the newly dedicated tabernacle looked down on the little town. This recently settled country of small farms was very different from the noisy crowded city the Weiermann’s were used to. However, for Annie it may have triggered happy memories of her youth growing up in rural Switzerland.

Life in America

1890-1893

One of the great motivations for Mormon emigration was to be able to reach a temple, considered the “Lord’s house,” where they could receive ordinances necessary for their own salvation and perform them by proxy on behalf of their deceased ancestors. This was a priority which Annie acted on immediately. It is recorded that her 10 year old son, Christian Weiermnn, three years deceased, was baptized by proxy in the Logan, Utah temple on 25 September 1890, suggesting someone took his name to the temple before the family finished their journey to their new home in Idaho. (Proxy baptisms were not required for her twin sons and daughter, since they died as innocent infants).

Many people who came to the United States chose to change or “americanize” the spelling or their names. Fred’s Posterity most often spell their name Weyerman, while the family of Ida has most often spelled their name Weiermann. In various family records the name can be seen in old records; Gottfried was known as “Fred”, his brother Jacob sometimes as “Jake”, and their mother, Anna Elizabeth, came to be known as “Annie” (1900 census).

Soon Annie and her young son Jacob moved into a rented log cabin owned by a Mrs. Herzog. Annie began earning money taking in sewing. Ida had the opportunity to live with and work for the beloved Stucki family, who were also boarding the local school teacher. Ida reminisces, “My teacher lived at the Stucky (sic) home and was very good to help me with my lessons” (wheeler,I., 1955). Once again, Fred boarded away from his family when he went to work on a farm.

Paris, Idaho had been colonized by the Latter-day Saints 17 years earlier and had two LDS wards. What a change after attending the small branch in Bern! It was wonderful to dwell without persecution among people who believed and lived as they did; however, life was not without challenges. Everyone had to work hard on the frontier for the survival of their family. It wasn’t easy learning a new language and adjusting to the ways of America. For example the young Swiss girl, Elisa Gygi, whom Ida certainly made friends with on the journey to Utah, recalls how at school she was told her name was to be the more familiar Alice instead of Elisa. The children made fun of her because her shoes and clothes were different. Subsequently, Elisa took turns with her sister wearing to school a nice dress and some shoes someone gave them. In their poverty the Gygi family happily received groceries, clothes, and candy for Christmas from the Bishop of their ward (Gygi). It isn’t hard to imagine the Weiermann family relying on friends in a similar way until they were able to earn money to support themselves.

On 29 December 1890, several months after their arrival in Idaho, Fred received the ordinance of baptism into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. Several days later, on New Year’s Day, his younger brother, Jacob, was also baptized. Then, according to the custom at that time for member immigrants arriving in Zion, Annie and her daughter, Idam, were rebaptized. It was a new year and a new life for the Weiermann family.

Fred traveled 20 miles north to Nounan, Idaho, to work. There he was also able to procure a log cabin for his mother and brother. Ida earned money by living in several homes where she helped with chores. Then she said, “Mother got work so I stayed at home the next year. Then we went back to Paris [Idaho} where mother met Mr Nuffer at a German Conference….” (Wheeler, I. 1955).

Family and Marriage

1893-1901

A medieval castle overlooks the southern city of [Neuffen], Germany, where 27-year-old Johann Christoph Nuffer married Agnes Barbara Spring early in the year of 1862. Four years later tragedy struck when within 7 months their baby girl and her 26-year -old mother died. Christoph was now left a widower to raise two sons, John, age 4, and Fred, age 3. (Nuffer, C).

A month later on July 25, 1867, he married Eva Katharina Greiner, who began to raise his sons as her own. Christoph and Eva were surrounded by their extended family, and were supported by Christopher’s work as a dress goods weaver and a salesman of produce from his vineyard and farm. Over a span of ten years, they added Regina, Charles, and Adolf to their family. (Nuffer, C).

After listening to the Mormon missionaries, the Nuffer family decided to join The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. They secretly damned a millrace at the rear of the house so the family could be baptized at night, undisturbed by hostile villagers. To avoid the persecution that immediately followed, they decided to emigrate to Utah as soon as possible. Christoph sold their home and land, and borrowed money from another immigrating family to gather the needed funds. Notwithstanding all the children catching measles, the family survived the transatlantic crossing in May 1880 on the steamship Wisconsin. (Ironically, the very same ship that in ten years would bring the Weiermann Family to America) (Naef, 1990).

The Nuffers followed many German and Swiss saints who pioneered Providence, Utah, situated just south of Logan. Like countless others, they started our poor and worked hard to better their circumstances. Thankfully, the older sons Fred and John helped a great deal with the heavy labor. A year after arriving in Zion, their last child, Mary was born (Naef, 1990).

In the fall of 1883 the oldest son, John, persuaded his father to sell their home and move into southeastern Idaho to homestead. Two years later they set up another claim. It was a rough life, but his son Charles recalled, “(We) were happy and thanked the Lord for what we had. Mother would read a chapter from the Bible, we would have prayer an we would go to bed early….We thanked our Heavenly Father for what we had and lived by faith…a I remember we never got discouraged for we felt the Lord was on our side” (Nuffer, C., 1949).

The Nuffer ranch was located northwest of Mapleton, Idaho. Their farm was cut in half be the main road. On the east side was the land where their homes, stables, and fruit orchards were located. On the west side of the road was meadow blanketed in lush grass with a creek running through it. This farm from one end to the other was a beautiful place (Naef, 1990).

In the winter of 1893, Eva, Christoph’s wife of 2 years, developed pneumonia and suddenly died within a week. Her grieving family buried her in the first grave in the new Preston, Idaho cemetery. Christoph could not bear to be alone in the home where he had so happily lived with his wife, so his sons Charles an Adolf ran the farm, “while there father was away most of the summer at Bear Lake and other places” (Nuffer, C).

While away, Christoph, now known as Christopher, met 38 year old Annie Weierman at a German Conference (Wheeler, I., 1955). These conferences were an opportunity for German speaking LDS converts to socialize using their native language. Through uplifting sermons, singing and dancing the Conferences offered support for immigrants adjusting to their new lives.

By the end of the summer, Christopher and Annie knew they wanted to get married. They were sealed for Time and Eternity in the Logan temple a few months later on 26 September 1893 (Reber).

The one photograph we have of Annie was likely taken in Logan, “The Temple City”, at this time. She serenely gazes out of the image, an attractive women with light-colored deep set eyes, high cheekbones, fair smooth skin, and unusually sculpted lips. Her brown hair is modestly pulled back to the nape of her neck and wrapped into a bun. She is slightly built, probably no taller than her daughter who grew to about 5 feet 2 inches. Her newly learned English would have been graced with a lilting Swiss accent. She wears a dark tailored dress, which she may have sewn, that has a high collar and mutton sleeves, the height of fashion in 1893. It could be imagined the jeweled heart brooch pinned to her collar could have been a wedding gift from her husband.

At age 59, Brother Nuffer was considered “ an old widower” by Annie’s children. (Weyerman, G). Besides love and companionship, he offered their mother a social status and financial security that she had likely never experienced. Their stone house surrounded by pastures, orchards, and a garden may have reminded her of her rural youth in Switzerland. Because her new husband had lived in the area for many years, she benefited from the reputation he had in the community as a successful farmer. The Nuffer name was well known in the surrounding towns as Christopher’s oldest son, John, was a trained architect and stone mason. He helped build the Logan temple, and also designed many of the public buildings in Preston, Idaho; including the opera house, bank, and churches. (Nuffer, J).

Annie and Christopher had many things in common, such as firm testimonies that Joseph Smith had indeed been an instrument in the restoration of Christ’s church, and that they were building up Zion in the American west. They had both followed the same path of conversion, they both spoke German and understood the ways of the “old country”, and they both followed a strikingly similar emigration path. But like many second marriages, there was the potential for tension and competition for loyalty between their children. As can be imagined, the children and their mother were very close after weathering so many adversities together. Annie’s marriage to Mr. Nuffer may not have been favored by the children. Fred’s feelings were, “Ida and Jacob remained no longer with mother then, but had to look out for themselves, neither I had any place that I could call my home” (Weyerman, G).

During the next year, Fred Weyerman became engaged to a girl named Sally, but this arrangement ended abruptly when Sally eloped with another man. This seemingly devastating event turned out to be a blessing when Fred met 20 year old Olena Hoth while they were at a party of a mutual friend. Fred and Olena were married by their bishop two weeks later. “Lena” was raised in a faithful Latter-day Saint family. She was a loving, loyal, and hardworking woman who would have a special role in the life of her mother-in-law. She and Fred loved each other and eventually had a family of 15 children. (Weyerman, L).

Two months later the newly married Fred and Lena traveled a distance to the Logan temple to be sealed on 26 September 1894 for Time and Eternity. In preparation for his temple ordinances, Fred Weyerman was ordained an Elder by their beloved Swiss mission president, John U. Stucki. It was a joyful occasion as Lena and Fred received their endowments and were sealed together. (eyerman, G) Later that same day, Annie must have glowed with happiness as all her children were sealed to her and Christopher Nuffer (Reber, A).

About this same time Annie’s step son, Charles, recorded she made him temple clothes in preparation for his marriage. He reminisced that, “His new step mother was helpful to us in many ways as we began our married life” (Nuffer, C., 1949).

In 1895 Fred and Lena welcomed a baby and named her Anna Weyerman. Fred bargained with his stepfather for forty acres of his farmland in Mapleton, so Annie looked forward to seeing her new granddaughter often. (Weyerman, G).

Near this time, Christopher’s oldest son, John, left to serve in the German/Swiss mission. Imagine Annie’s feelings of curiosity and nostalgia as she read letters posted from the mission headquarters in Bern, Switzerland.

That winter Ida married David Wheeler. His father, Calvin Wheeler, was a notable pioneer who settled in the Mapleton area seven years earlier. David reminisces in his autobiography, “I finally met a girl, Ida Weiermann Nuffer, that I thought just suited me, and finally ask her to marry me. She wanted me to wait for a while but as I had got a call to go on a mission she finally consented. We married in the Logan Temple on December 4, 1895. Ida was just a few months past sixteen years of age.” David let six weeks later to serve a mission in the southern states of the USA. Ida supported herself by living with and working for families until he returned two and a half years later (Wheeler, D).

After a year of improving his land, Fred went to make a payment and fix the deeds; however, the sons of “Mr. Christoffer Nuffer would not agree, so [we] had to pull out with empty hands” (Weyerman, G). It could have been that the sons didn’t know about their father’s deal or agree with it. There was a lot of competition in the area over staking out claims on various parcels of land. Christopher’s sons had also been working the land for years with the hope of ownership. The emotions raised at that time may have prompted Ida to comment that “We, [Fred, IDa and Jacob], were not welcomed there” (Wheeler, I. 1955).

In the year 1896, Fred and Lena lost a baby named after Fred’s brother, Christian. In 1898 they also lost a month-old baby girl named Marie Weyerman. That same year Ida’s husband, David, returned from his mission. Also, Annie’s first husband and father of her children Gottfried Weiermann, died at age 46 in his home town of Wynigen, Switzerland (Wheeler, D.) (Reber,A).

David and Ida moved to the mountains of Western Idaho where David took a contract to cut railroad ties. On 28 December 1899 Ida gave birth to her first child, Florence, alone in a crude timberland shelter while waiting for a doctor to arrive. Ida’s only assistance was a blessing from the local missionaries, who afterward sent out into the yard to pray for her (Wheeler, I).

The last years of Annie’s life were marked by marriages, births, harvests, missions, and some deaths. Mostly it was the day-to-day rhythm of life that generously filled the calendar. After they sold their ranch to the Hull Brothers of Whitney, Christopher and Annie moved to Preston into a two-room frame house near his oldest son, john (Naef, 1990). The 1900 US Census records the family living in Preston, Idaho, and lists Christopher Nuffer as a farmer, Annie E. as his wife, and Jacob, his single stepson, as a farm laborer. It also notes that Annie can read and write English. Sometime between the 1900 Census and March 1901, Christopher and Annie Nuffer moved to Logan, Utah, which was to be their last home together (Naef, 1990).

By the time, Annie was very ill with “dropsy”, an old term for edema, or fluid retention usually in the feet, ankles and legs (Weyerman, L). She may have suffered from it for years as it could have been caused by congestive heart failure, diseases of the heart muscle, or some other heart ailment. As these diseases progress breathing becomes difficult; making walking arduous (Quinn, 2017).

Possibly because Annie needed someone stronger than her aging husband to nurse her, she moved in with her son, Fred. His wife, Lena, was two months from giving birth. This was a charitable and generous act on Lena’s part, as she was now caring for Annie, a baby and three other children under the age of 5. (Weyerman, L).

As soon as Annie’s daughter, Ida, recovered enough from the birth of her second child in August 1901, she came to Logan to relieve Lena as her mother’s sole nurse (Wheeler, I. 1955.) Many Christian virtues were exercised as Lena and Ida worked together to take care of their 6 small children as well as nurse their mother through her last living days. (Weyerman, L).

When November came around, Fred was preparing to leave his seriously ill mother and family of small children to fulfill a call t the German/Swiss mission, Under what he called “very hard circumstances”, he departed for Switzerland 25 November 1901. This young father knew he would not see his cherished family for over two years. (Weyerman, G). It was also likely he would never see his beloved mother again. Indeed, she died 1 December 1901, less than a week after his departure for Switzerland. The grieving family buried 4-year-old Annie E. Nuffer in the Logan City Cemetery (Utah Cemetery Inventory).

For an unknown reason, Annie made made the unusual request before she died to have their family’s temple sealing to her second husband, John Christoph Nuffer, cancelled. She wanted Fred to go to the LDS authorities and arrange for her to be sealed to her first husband, Gottfried Weiermann, and then to have their seven children sealed to them. This wish was eventually fulfilled in the Logan LDS temple on 8 March 1905, about a year after Fred returned from his mission. (Ida Christensen Arave witnessed the Church temple records at the family history center in SLC) (Wheeler, I., 1955).

Anna Elizabeth Reber’s family was one of 90,000 known Latter-day Saint immigrants who crossed the oceans to America between 1840-1891. “They had a most unusual success rate; making about 550 voyages, and losing no vessels crossing the Atlantic….These Mormon immigrants were responding to a call to gather with the righteous in a promised land, which they called Zion” (Woods, 2000 p. 74). Because of courage to act on her faith, a tenacious 3 year old divorced mother of three changed her family’s course into the future. Annie’s decision to join The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and emigrate to the American west where she could help build the Lord’s kingdom on earth has directly influenced hundreds of her progeny. Her determination not only lifted her family out of poverty, but more importantly pioneered the way toward salvation for untold numbers of future and past generations. For this act of faith, valor, and love we praise and remember her.

EPILOGUE

John Christoph Nuffer married for the fourth time four months after Annie’s death. He lived to age 73, dying 12 April 1908 (Naef, 1990).

Fred Weyerman was suddenly killed 9 March 1935 at age 59 when the bike he was riding slipped on ice and hit a bus. He left nine surviving children and his widow, who would never remarry. His sister Ida and her family kept in touch with “Aunt Lena” and their cousins for many years after his passing. (Weyerman, G).

Ida Weierman Wheeler bore 10 children and lived to be 80. She remained a faithful member of the LDS church through a multitude of trials as her she and her husband, David, worked to eke out a living on the frontier of southeastern Idaho. Her obituary quoted her friends as saying, “She was a bulwark of strength, patience, and loving kindness to all who knew her” (Wheeler, D) (Olsen, L).

Jacob Weiermann didn’t marry until 1908, when he was 25. His wife died in the 1918 Spanish flu epidemic. Their two children, Donald and Martha, went to live with their Aunt Ida and Uncle Dave for a time (Arave, I., 2017). Jacob didn’t marry again. He worked as a miner in Nevada, and died in Utah of tuberculosis 25 January 1945 at age 61 (Weierman, J., 1945).

The Church of Jesus Christ of [Latter-day] Saints in Europe

President Joseph F. Smith visited

Zurich, Switzerland in 1906, and predicted:

“The time would come when temples to the Most High would be built in various countries of the world.”

The Bern Switzerland Temple was the first temple built where English was not the main local language. It was dedicated on 11 September 1955 (Petersen, S., 2013).

Sunday, 11 November 2012 by Sagacity

Jonas – Coley Wedding

Herbert and Martha Coley are pleased to announce the marriage of their daughter Lillian to Joseph Nelson Jonas, son of Joseph and Annie Jonas. They were married 6 September 1916 in Logan, Cache, Utah at the LDS Temple. The photo above we think was taken around 1930 or so and is not a wedding photo.

Lillian was born the first child of ten to Martha Christiansen and Herbert Coley 26 August 1898 in Lewiston, Cache, Utah. Both Herbert and Martha were Mormon immigrants to Utah in the 1880’s. Herbert and Martha both had native land accents from England and Norway respectively. Herbert was a diligent laborer who would acquire full ownership in their home by 1910. Martha was a strict and involved homemaker and mother.

Lillian grew up assisting her mother in maintaining the home, large garden, and raising younger siblings. By the the time she married, she had six younger children who were in the home (three more were yet to be born). When Lillian was born, the family lived in Lewiston. By 1910, the family had moved to Wheeler, Cache, Utah (or the 1900 Census did not have Wheeler broken from Lewiston). The Wheeler area is almost 6 miles directly to the west from Richmond, Cache, Utah as indicated by the link. We do not know where they lived in Wheeler.

By the time Lillian married Joseph, the family lived at roughly 1950 E 9000 N to the south and east of Richmond. The remainder of the cabin built by Herbert Coley was still in the middle of a cow pen in fall 2012 on the south side of the road, but was in pretty poor condition. Ellis Jonas took me there about 2002 and indicated the home to me as where they lived when he was a little boy. Martha moved in to town, Richmond, after Herbert passed away in 1946.

Joseph Nelson Jonas was the sixth of seven child born to Annetta Josephine Nelson and Joseph Jonas 19 November 1893 in or near Ellensburg, Kittitas, Washington. About 1896, Joseph’s mother, Annie, went to the Eastern Washington Hospital for the Insane in Fancher, Spokane, Washington (she is listed as Ann J Jonas). She was in and out of hospitals throughout her life but as Joseph was one of the younger children, he would not have known his mother a little better.

Joseph and Margaret Jonas about 1899

Annie got out of the Eastern Washington Hospital 31 October 1899 and went home to Ellensburg and continued to be a handful for the family. The family on the 1900 Census in Cle Elum, Kittitias, Washington does not include Annie though and the census that year has Joseph Sr in both Cle Elum and Spokane about two weeks apart in June 1900. Annie’s sister, Charlotte, visited in 1901. Due to Annie’s mental and emotional state, and with Joseph Sr’s approval, the whole Jonas family went to Utah to stay temporarily with Annie’s brother, Nels August Nelson. Uncle August lived in Crescent, Salt Lake, Utah and the Jonas party arrived 3 July 1901 from Washington.

John, Joseph, and William Jonas probably right before moving to Utah in 1901. The photo is stamped with Ellensburg on the matting.

Joseph Sr for one reason or another went back to Washington with the youngest child Margaret. Nels suggested it was legal issues, it might have just been the farm that needed attention. Annie’s issues were such that August and his wife, Fidelia, signed an affidavit of insanity and had her admitted to the Utah State Hospital 1 November 1901.

Joseph Sr had been raised as a Catholic and Annie Nelson had been raised LDS. Annie decided she did not like LDS men and wanted to marry a Gentile and did so. The children were raised Catholic in Washington. Now in Utah, Uncle August made sure the children learned about the LDS faith. The three boys elected to be baptized LDS on 10 January 1902 in Crescent by their Uncle August in an ice covered Jordan River. All three were confirmed 12 January 1902 by Jaime P Jensen. Rosa joined 6 February 1902, also in Crescent under the hand of Uncle August in a hole chipped in the Jordan River. Margaret did not join as she stayed near her father in Washington.

In 1904, Rosa married a boy, Christian Andersen, from Richmond. They married in Salt Lake City, Salt Lake, Utah. They moved to 137 E 100 S in Richmond. Joseph and his brothers resided with Uncle August until after their mother passed in 1907, then they would regularly and for prolonged periods stay with Rosa in Richmond. The 1910 Census lists Joseph at home in Crescent. Read more of Brother John Jonas.

Joseph Nelson Jonas’ Brigham Young College yearbook picture

Joseph attended Brigham Young College in Logan and graduated with his diploma 3 June 1915. We don’t know much about his time at Brigham Young College but the story goes he wrestled with their team and did so very effectively. William, Joseph’s brother, was apparently here at school during some overlapping periods. Joseph became well known for his love of gospel conversations. He was known for regularly discussing and even arguing the gospel with extra determination. No hard feelings developed due to his ardor in arguing since others would always agree to a handshake after a good debate.

Joseph Jonas graduation diploma from Brigham Young College in Logan, Utah

Below is a copy of a picture believed to be from his graduation at BYC. I have not been able to find the original of this photo or a copy at Utah State University’s archives where the Brigham Young College limited records are located (which are less than cooperative on letting me rummage through all the unknown photos).

In Richmond Joseph and Lillian met when Lillian’s father, Herbert, hired Joseph to help harvest hay. It was within six months, according to the story, that they were married. The two were married 6 September 1916 in the Logan LDS Temple.

Joseph registered for the draft of World War I on 5 June 1917. When he registered, he indicated he was a laborer working for Olaf Neilson, the man who would later become a brother-in-law. He indicated he was taking care of his wife and father. He also indicated that his eyes were brown and his hair was brown. He is listed as short and stout. Here is his signature from that registration. According to his family, he stood about 5’6″ and was very muscular.

Joseph’s father passed in Richmond in June 1917. Lillian gave birth to Joseph Herbert Jonas 14 August 1917 in Richmond.

In 1919, Joseph and his two siblings, Rosa and William, had all moved to Idaho. They operated a dry farm raising grain in Cleveland, Franklin, Idaho. Christian and Rosa, along with Joseph, did most of the work on the farm and lived about a mile apart. William taught at the school in Thatcher, Franklin, Idaho. The Andersen and Jonas families also kept cows, pigs, chickens, and a sizable garden. This is the only home Joseph and Lillian Jonas would together own. Joseph arrived with the cows in Thatcher on 1 April 1919. Lillian stayed in Richmond due to her pregnancy and while Joseph established the farm. Communications were slow because mail was held at Thatcher. Joseph and Lillian only heard from each other when Joseph made it in to Thatcher to pick up the mail or send a letter.

Spencer Gilbert Jonas was born 1 September 1919 in Richmond. Lillian and the two boys joined Joseph in Cleveland.

The 1920 Census found the Jonas family on 26 January 1920 living on the Cleveland Road outside of Thatcher.

Irwin John Jonas was born 2 September 1921 in Cleveland, but listed as Thatcher.

In 1923 or early 1924, the family then moved to Lewiston, Cache, Utah. The farm was not working out and he was able to obtain employment with the Utah-Idaho Central Railroad. Joseph worked on a section gang, just like his father had. The gang’s job was to repair rotten timbers, hammering in spikes, tightening bolts, and maintaining the rail line. He worked 7 days a week, sometimes all night, coming home only after a shift was over.

The family lived in a boxcar that had its wheels removed. A ditch ran under a portion of their home. Another boxcar nearby was used as a storage shed. It was here 15 May 1924 that Wilburn Norwood Jonas was born. Ellis Seth Jonas arrived in this home 6 September 1926, their 10 year wedding anniversary.

Joseph kept a tub of furnace oil in the shed. It accidentally caught on fire and and Joseph immediately announced to Lillian that the storage shed would burn down and probably their home too. Joseph, known for being a bit of a prankster, was not believed by Lillian despite his insistence. Joseph ran back to the shed and picked up the burning tub of fuel and carried it outside the shed. While he saved the shed and his home, he found himself in Ogden for several weeks with 2nd and 3rd degree burns. A 9 February 1927 newspaper mention in the Ogden Standard Examiner tells of his being brought to the Dee Hospital on Tuesday the 8th for treatment of burns to the face.

In 1927, Joseph was promoted foreman and oversaw the Quinney line through Wheeler, Thaine, and ending at Quinney (now Amalga). Later, he accepted another foreman job and moved to the railroad town of Uintah, Weber, Utah where he lived in row housing. Here is a picture taken while living there.

Picture from Uintah Railroad Camp toward Weber Canyon about 1927

Joseph filed for divorce 2 March 1929 claiming Lillian had deserted him. The article in the paper indicates they had not lived together since 20 February 1928. It was during this time on 4 September 1928 that Evan Reed Jonas was born in Ogden. The divorce was dismissed on 9 March 1929 due to the party’s stipulation. Joseph again sued on 8 April 1929. He was ordered to pay $75 a month until the case was resolved. Joseph and Lillian had the case dismissed after they worked out their issues.

The family later moved into a comfortable home owned by the railroad at 102 17th Street in Ogden, Weber, Utah. It was a row house, but since he was Section Foreman, the only one with a porch. Joseph’s father, Joseph, had also served as Section Foreman. Joseph’s main responsibility dealt with the Huntsville and Plain City/Warren lines. During this time Joseph and Lillian became known as generous hosts where all visitors were always given more than enough to eat. Joseph prided himself on the vegetable garden they grew at this home.

On 6 November 1929 Lillian was hit and ran over by an automobile driven by Jack Mobley. It knocked her unconscious but she quickly regained consciousness. She spent the night in the hospital and was pretty seriously bruised and lacerated but suffered no broken bones. Joseph and Lillian admitted they were walking in the middle of the road when the accident occurred.

Joseph and Lillian continued active in the LDS church. Joseph regularly debated and discussed religion with others. He was also known to be strict in adherence to principles and expected his children to do the same. He was not afraid to “switch” his children when they got in trouble or disobeyed. One thing family members always commented about Joseph was his ability to remember and recall scripture in a conversation and discussion. Not only that, but when questioned to prove it, he was familiar enough with the book that within moments he could find the chapter and verse. His familiarity with the bible surprised many people, especially from a railroad laborer.

Joseph and some friends at work after a game of shoes

Lillian Annetta Jonas was born 15 July 1930 in Ogden. The 1930 Census found Joseph and Lillian at their home on 9 April 1930. The family was fairly comfortable, they could even afford some of the best appliances.

Joseph Jonas Maytag Warranty Certificate

Joseph was especially glad to have a girl after six sons in a row.

Joseph stands on the back row, second from the left. This is his Section Gang in Ogden.

joseph-nelson-jonas

Joseph and Lillian had a scare in 1931 when their son, Joseph, disappeared for a couple of weeks. He had been kidnapped by a Mr. J J Nelson and taken to Pocatello, Bannock, Idaho. He was finally recovered on 20 June 1931. The man was arrested after he beat young Joseph in public and the police determined Joseph was the missing boy from Ogden.

LeReta Mary Jonas was born 1 August 1932 in Ogden.

On Tuesday, 6 September 1932, a month after LeReta was born and on his 16th wedding anniversary, Joseph went to work as usual. Joseph knew the dangers of working on the railroad. It was near lunch time and his son, Norwood, was taking Joseph his lunch. Joseph saw Norwood and got down off a trolley near Lincoln and 20th Street, near the American Can Company plant. After getting off the trolley, he turned and walked toward Norwood and hit his head on a wire Mr. Child had strung down to do some welding. (Mr. Child was haunted by this episode the rest of his life because Joseph had warned him about the way he had hung the wire.) The shock knocked Joseph on his back unconscious and not breathing. Joseph died immediately but doctors worked on Joseph for over an hour. Lillian said Norwood was forever affected by the event. Joseph died at roughly 1:00 PM.

Here is a copy of the newspaper notice.

Here is the burial notice.

As a historical side note, here is the front of the train schedule Joseph had in his wallet at the time of his death.

Utah Idaho Central Railroad Company Time Table from 1932-1933

jonas-family

The loss of Joseph dealt the family a hard blow not only with losing a family member, but it also lost them the company housing in which they were living. Lillian, at the mercy of family, moved immediately back to Richmond to be near her family. Lillian’s father, Herbert Coley, was appointed administrator for Joseph’s estate. The railroad paid out roughly $1,200 to Joseph’s estate. The funeral, transport, and burial of the family cost Lillian $150. The estate did not begin making regular payments to Lillian until 1934. Until then, Lillian wrote to the railroad for assistance and help. The railroad was happy to provide passes for the family to travel. Unfortunately, the company quit handling company coal so they could not fulfill her requests but allowed the boys to have all the used railroad ties they wanted for firewood.

Lillian’s signature from the back of one of the estate checks written to her.

Fortunately, the money from the estate was enough to purchase a home for Lillian in Richmond from a Melvin & Bernetta Smith for $500. This gave Lillian a home to raise her children and less worry about providing for her family. The home was located on the north side of the road at roughly 65 E 400 S in Richmond, Utah. Herbert and Martha, Lillian’s parents, lived across the street, but their home was a good couple hundred feet from the road.

Lillian made good effort to raise six unruly, now fatherless, boys and two girls. At Joseph’s death, the children were ages 15, 13, 11, 8, 6, 4, 2, and 1 month. The Jonas brood were known for being a bit coarse and boisterous as the years went on. Only a few years would pass before the children would start marrying.

Joseph married Hilma Grace Erickson 17 June 1936 in Logan.

Spencer married Viola “Jimmie” Amelia Cole 5 August 1938 in Farmington, Davis, Utah.

Irwin joined the army 6 July 1939 and immediately left for training. He eventually married Mary Elizabeth Popwitz 17 June 1943 in Rochester, Olmsted, Minnesota.

Lillian’s portrait after the death of son Irwin in World War II

Evan married Lona Rae Jensen 15 March 1946 in Elko, Elko, Nevada.

Norwood married Colleen Mary Andra 27 September 1946 in Elko.

Ellis married Geraldine Pitcher 17 August 1947 in Elko.

Lillian Driver’s License photo

LeReta married Lowell Hansen Andersen 19 March 1948 in Logan.

Lillian married Ray Laurence Talbot 16 August 1948 in Ogden.

Jimmie, Lillian, and Lona Jonas with Norene and little Spence about 1948 (Lillian has a beet knife in hand, must have been fall)

Lillian spent the new few years in an empty home. She knew Lorenzo “Ren” Bowcutt over the years. She accepted his offer of marriage and they were married 12 June 1953 in Preston, Franklin, Idaho.

1953 Marriage License

Lillian and Ren Bowcutt

At the time of her marriage to Ren, she had 22 grandchildren, 21 living.

Lillian Bowcutt in 1959

5 generations about 1959, Lillian Coley Bowcutt, Martha Christiansen Coley, Joseph Hebert Jonas, Robert Lee Jonas, Joseph Leland Jonas

Ren passed away 5 April 1966 in Logan (born 12 May 1883 in Honeyville, Box Elder, Utah). Ren was buried in Riverside, Box Elder, Utah.

Lorenzo Bowcutt

Lorenzo Bowcutt obituary

Lona and Evan Jonas visiting Lillian in the late 1960’s

Lillian in 1978

She lived in the same home until the early 1980’s when she moved in with her daughter Lillian in Layton.

Front (l-r): Spence, Joe, Ellis, Evan, Paul Ross, Jackie Jonas, Andra Ross. Standing: Jimmie, Hilma, Lillian, Lillian, LeReta, Lona, Colleen. Back: Dan Jonas, Larry Talbot, Unknown hidden, Unknown hidden in 1982

4 generations, Sherlean Talbot Collier, Rebecca Collier, Lillian Jonas Talbot, Lillian Coley Jonas about 1984

Lillian portrait about 1986

Spence, Lillian, Joe, Lillian, Ellis, LeReta, Evan

Lillian died 11 February 1987 in Davis Medical Center, Layton, Utah. She was almost 88.5 years old. She was buried beside her husband (55 years later) in Richmond 16 February 1987.

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