Joseph Russell Donaldson

Joseph Russell Donaldson

Miracles still happen! This is proof. The fact that these three photos traveled together without being separated, that there were hints as to their identity written on them, that some lady picked them up in Pennsylvania, and then spent the time to research them and found enough information to link to me, is phenomenal. Joseph, Sarah, and Hattie wanted to be found and the stars aligned with heaven. May there be many more such miracles in the future!

I had a lady who e-mailed me regarding three photos. They were found in an old store in Pennsylvania. The back of this photo above had written on it, “W.S. Donaldson, Evanston.” This lady traced that down to William Scott Donaldson, who did live in Evanston, Wyoming at from about 1890 to 1895. My Great Grandfather, William’s son, David Delos Donaldson was born in Evanston in 1894.

I knew it was not William Scott Donaldson. William, who I have written on before, was born in 1865 and died in Ogden, Utah in 1913 of cancer. A photo taken not too long before his passing does not have him as grey and not looking like this man.

William Scott Donaldson (1865-1913)

But I did have this photograph also in my records of William Scott Donaldson’s father, Joseph Russell Donaldson (1836-1925).

Unknown, Joseph and Agnes Donaldson, Hattie Lovell, Unknown

I have a couple of photos of Joseph Russell Donaldson, who I have also written on before. That nose, the double lines down the cheek, and that bushy goatee seemed to point me where I needed to go next. Here is another photo I have of Joseph Russell Donaldson.

Sitting (l-r): Joseph Russell Donaldson and George Donaldson. Standing: Unknown.

The next photo the lady had in the three-pack tied Joseph Russell to the mix. Here is the second photo.

Hattie Lovell and Joseph Russell Donaldson

This photo had written on the front “Hattie – Father.” As you can see from the photo above, Hattie is the same one as this Hattie, the sister to William Scott Donaldson, Harriet Edith Donaldson Lovell (1875-1961). On the back of this photo is written, “Grandpa Donaldson and Hattie Donaldson – Kingston, Canada.” Again, the tie between W.S. Donaldson and Hattie with “Grandpa.” William Scott was born in Joyceville, Ontario, Canada, but Joseph Russell lived in Kingston from at least 1901 until his death in 1925. Things were tying in nicely with each other.

Then there is this third photo. This one had written on the front, “Sarah Armina Donaldson, Papa’s mother.” The interesting part is the photo paper is of a photographer in Reading, Pennsylvania. So this must be a photograph of a photograph, and looking at it that does seem to be the case.

Sarah Armina Todd

That ties in nicely with Joseph Russell Donaldson and William Scott Donaldson as Sarah Armina Todd (1839-1880) is the wife of Joseph and mother of William. She died a little over 41 years old for what the death record states as “hemorrhage of lungs,” whatever that might be. I have an old, tiny photocopy of this photo but of poor enough condition I did not scan and upload to FamilySearch. This one isn’t necessarily a whole lot better but more complete.

Which then takes us back to the first photo at the top. The more I looked at it, it became apparent it was a younger version of Joseph Russell Donaldson. The way the goatee grows although trimmed, the facial lines, the lips (and the familiarity I recognize in my own father), and the eyes all match. Plus, the writing on the back probably indicates it was taken before or at the time that W.S. Donaldson lived in Evanston (1890-1895). Very happy to have found another photo of another ancestor. He is a handsome man too, nearly or at 60 years of age.

Weekend to Palisades

Star Valley Wyoming Temple

Earlier this summer we took a little family get away to Lake Palisades. A family friend let us use their family cabin for the weekend. We very much appreciate their hospitality and friendship. We took the opportunity to also do some limited traveling. Above you can see the Star Valley Temple in Afton, Lincoln, Wyoming. The temple is shuttered due to Coronavirus. Amanda will have to share pictures of the Star Valley Tabernacle.

Blevins Family Cabin

We visited in middle of July. We also took the chance to drive over to Alpine and Jackson, Teton, Wyoming. Of course we had to get a picture with the famous elk horn arches. Somehow the picture makes it appear very few people were around. But in the middle of tourist season, and despite Coronavirus and mask mandates, the place was crawling with tourists. We got nearly all our state license plates in Jackson for our road games.

Ross Family in Jackson, Wyoming, 17 July 2020, mandated masks and all

We took some time to go play with kayaks on Big Elk of the Palisades Reservoir.

Amanda, Hiram, James, and Aliza Ross
Hiram, Aliza, Lillie, James, and Amanda Ross on Big Elk of Palisades Reservoir
Lillie and James Ross fishing at Palisades Reservoir

Grandpa and Grandma Hemsley drove up on Saturday and joined us for all day Sunday.

Breakfast with Grandma and Grandpa Hemsley. From Grandma clockwise, Jill and Bryan Hemsley, James, Amanda, Hiram, Lillie, and Aliza Ross

It was a fun weekend. Maybe we will have to impose ourselves and ask to use the cabin again sometime.

Delos and Unknown

David Delos Donaldson and unknown (now known to be Robert Charles Kinsey (1898-1980), updated 25 April 2021. 

You may now read about the miracle of finding the rest of the information on this photo here.

I am hoping someone might be of assistance on this one.

This photo came to me with a stack of documents from my Uncle David William Donaldson and Betty Oram Donaldson after they passed away.  This original photo, about 1 inch by 1 inch was included.  I scanned it at a high resolution and cropped it in so we can clearly see what is in the photo.

I can recognize my Great Grandfather, David Delos Donaldson on the left.  I think this is the youngest photo I have of him.  I have written of David Delos Donaldson (who apparently went by Delos) previously.  He lived in Evanston, Wyoming, up until he was 5 or so, this photo is after that, so likely in the Ogden, Utah, area.

The photo is uploaded and linked in FamilySearch.

Obviously helpful on the back of the photo is this writing in the picture below.  Remember this is a small 1 X 1 inch photo.  Delas is clearly written on the back for Delos.  But I cannot make out the other name?  Any other insight so I can link the other person?

Roberty appears to be the first name.

What is the second?

Rindly?

Kinsey?

I cannot find this other person in records.

Delos and Roberty ??

Jonas History: Nilsson/Bengtsson

This is another chapter of the Jonas history book compiled by Carvel Jonas. “The Joseph Jonas clan of Utah (including – early Jonas family history; early Nelson family history)”   This one is on the Nilsson/Bengtsson line, which was anglicized to Nelson/Benson.  Reviewing this information in FamilySearch shows some changes and updates to some of the information presented.
   “Johannes Nilsson was born 4 Oct 1827 in Tonnersjo, Hallands, Sweden.  His parents were Nils Nilsson and Pernill Larsson.  He was the youngest of a family of four sons.  He married Agneta Bengtsson who was born 9 Dec 1832 in Oringe, Hallands, Sweden.   Her parents were Nils Bengst and Johanna Johansson.  She was the oldest child of eight children, having four sisters and three brothers.  They married 17 Nov 1855.
    “Agneta had two children by an unknown suitor who failed to post the necessary dowry.  They were Matilda, born 31 Dec 1853 and James Peter, born 13 Dec 1855.  Both children were born in Veinge, Hallands, Sweden.  James Peter was born less than a month after Johannes and Agneta were married.
    “In 1862, Elders from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints baptized Agneta’s mother, Johanna Bengtsson, her sister, Ingar, and her two brothers, Nils and John.  They immigrated to America in 1862 and settled in Sanpete County, Ephraim, Utah.  Agneta’s father never came to America and died in Sweden.  After this Agneta was baptized and the Johannes Nilsson family came to America in 1864.  About a month after they got to Logan, Utah, our great grandmother, Annette Josephine Nelson (Jonas) was born.  More details will be given in the following life story which was written by August Nelson, a brother of grandma Annie Jonas.  The author has quoted August’s story and has omitted genealogical family line.  Also, interesting facts have been added to this story to make it more complete.  These facts are included inside the brackets.

L-R: Johanna Benson, Johanna Icabinda Benson, John Irven Benson, Nels Ernst Benson, Mary Ann Angel Works holding Merrill Lamont Benson.

    “Nels August Nelson, third child of John and Agnetta Benson Nelson was born in Oringe, Hallands, Sweden, on May 18, 1857.  “My memory of the beautiful country around our home is still vivid even though I was not quite seven when we left.  In 1861 we moved to Tulap, near Marebeck, a Swedish mile from Halmstadt.  We had two wagons loaded with household goods, mother and the four children were on the second wagon which father drove.  I can still see the hayrack.  It had four poles tow in the standard of the wagon, with holes bored and sticks driven in them to keep them apart the width of the wagon.  Then there were holes in each pole on the upper side slanting outward so as to extend over the wheels gradually to about four or five feet high.  Finally the pole crossed the top on both sides and ends to keep it from spreading.  This is the pictures of it as I remember the morning we moved. 
    “Our new home consisted of two long buildings, I should judge considerably neglected because father was continually repairing them between the hours on the farm.  There was a peat bed some distance to the south of the house, a steep slope to the West, a small stream to the east, and cultivated land on the other side.  Father planted trees from the northeast corner of the dwelling due East some distance north and west to the northwest corner of the barn forming a beautiful hollow square.  My recollection is that the trees were birch.  A road ran due east to the nearest neighbors.  On the west a path ran to Marebeck.  A public highway went through our place and led to Halmstadt.  The village near had beautiful homes and churches.  A large bell rang out at twelve and six, possibly other times.  It seemed to say, “Vin Vellen, sure sell, some balhang, slink in”, translated, “Water gruel, sour fish, come gulpdog, tumble in.”
    “At the north end of the farm the stream turned east where the bridge was.  Just south of the bridge the slope was steep and below on the herded the cattle land sheep.  In the three years we lived there father broke up all the land except the meadow.  This was all done by man power.  A man would have a :shere chich” which he pushed with his body.  It cut a sod about two inches thick and eight or ten inches wide.  When the sods dried they were piled up and burned.  The women did most of the piling and burning.
    “We had such a heavy crop of potatoes on this new land that the land burst open along the rows and the potatoes could be seen on top of the ground from the road. 
    “Now a few incidents of child life in Sweden.  The school teacher boarded round at the different homes of the pupils.  I marvel now at the progress they made.  My sister, only ten knew most of the New Testament, and my brother attended only one winter when he learned to read and write. 
    “One of our cows swam the river while we were herding one spring.  When we drove her back she missed the ford and got her horns caught in the roots of the trees and drowned. 
    “Baking day was a big affair because mother baked enough bread to last a month.  It seemed to improve with age.  It took a lot of wood to heat the oven.  On these day sister and brother had to tend baby and I had to herd the cows alone.  One day I rebelled but it did no good.  I was about five years old.  James helped to drive the cows down to the pasture and about all I had to do was watch the path to prevent their return…After I got to Utah one fall a fox bit one of the lambs.  Father must have seen him catch it because he picked it up and brought it home before it died.  Oh how bad we felt.  All the animals on the farm were pets. 
    “One winter there was no snow on the ground but there was ice on the river.  Three of us went down to slide on the ice.  We were forbidden to slide with our shoes on because it wore them out.  At first we slid with our stockings on, then we took them off and slid barefoot.  The ice was so clear and smooth that we had a good time.  Then uncle Lars Benson came and helped put on our shoes and stockings.  I was the smallest so he carried me all the way home.
    “In the spring of 1862 mother went to the old home to bid her mother Johanna Bengtsson, her sister Ingar, and brothers Nels and John, good-bye before they started to America and Utah to live with the Mormons, she brought us all of Uncle John’s toys.  One I remember especially, was a little cuckoo.
    “It must not have been long after when the first Mormon Elders came to see us.  Andrew Peterson of Lehi was one.  Later Uncle Lars came to love the peace that entered our home.  We children would run up the road to look for the Elders.  I was five years old (if mother got baptized the same winter that we left in the spring then I was six) when the elders instructed father to get his family around the table and have family prayers.  I got up from that prayer with the light of the Gospel in my soul.  Everything had changed!  A new light and a new hope had entered my being.  Everything seemed joyous and more beautiful and even the birds sang sweeter.
    “After we joined the Church there were numbers of people young and old who came to visit us.  I remember Andrew Peterson, and the mother of the Lindquists who were undertakers in Ogden and Logan.  When we were getting ready to come to America the sisters would come to help mother sew and get ready.  The songs of Zion that they sang will ring in my ears and soul to the last moments of my life if I continue faithful to the end.  “Heavenly Canaan, Oh Wondrous Canaan, Our Canaan that is Joseph’s land, Come go with us to Canaan!” are some of the words one of the sisters sang.  Ye Elders of Israel and Oh Ye Mountains High were my favorites.  The Swedish Language seemed to give these songs more feeling than the English.  I had a Birdseye view of Zion and I longed to go there.
    “I well remember the morning mother had promised to go to Halmstadt to be baptized.  We all arose early and mother was undecided until father told her to go.  In the evening as father was walking back and carrying the baby, he stopped and said, “Now mother is being baptized,” we looked at the clock and when mother returned she said father was right.  The baptisms had to be done at night and a hole cut in the ice but mother felt not ill effects of the cold. 
    “We had a public auction and sold everything in the line of furniture and clothing that we could not take with us.  I remember two large oak chests and a couple of broadcloth suits and over coats.  One they brought with them and had it made over for me.
    “Father was a steady and prosperous young man, he worked seven years in a distillery and seven as a miller.  We had a small keg of whiskey every Christmas and the children could have what they wanted of it.  We often sopped our bred in it as a substitute for milk.  I never saw father drunk.
    “Now came the time to sell the home and farm.  The ground was all in crops and a rain made everything look good. Father said it was God who made it look so prosperous and we got a good price for it.  James, Matilda, and I with a big part of the baggage were left with friends in Halmstadt while father went back for mother and the younger children.  The morning we were to sail was a busy one.  We all did what we seldom did before, messed the bed.  Mother said, “The Devil cannot stop us,” and we were on deck in time.  It was a beautiful Friday morning, 10 Apr 1864, (They left at 5 p.m.) when the Johanns Nelson family hustled along the rock paved streets of Halmstadt to the docks.  The noise of the horses feet and the rumble of the vehicles drowned all the voices of the little ones who complained of the unceremonious departure.  Then all were safely on board, the gang planks withdrawn, and before we knew it we were out at sea and the men on shore became mere specks. 
    “Later we were all startled by the sound of a shot ringing out and we were ordered below deck.  When we could return to the deck we were told that a pirate crew had shot a hole in our ship just above the water line.  In return our ship shot off their main mast.  As we neared Denmark we saw all the ships in the harbor and could hear (cannon fire) as Denmark and Germany were at war.  We walked around in Copenhagen and saw the fine homes, lawns, statues, in the beautiful city.  This was the first time I had heard the Danish language.  We stopped at so many places that I cannot remember all of them.  Cattle and sheep were loaded on at one place.  We were seasick too, and so many crowded together.  Before we left Liverpool (Thursday April 21) we enjoyed watching the ships being loaded; fishing snacks came in and unloaded their cargo, and big English shire horses acted as switch engines.  There was a large ship about finished in the dry dock.  It must be a stupendous job to build a huge ship.  There seemed to be some leak at the gates because we saw a man with a diving outfit on go down and men were pumping air to him.  He was down for some time.
    “The beautiful green foliage and sward through England has always remained with me.  It passes into the sublime of my soul.
    “The ship which we boarded to come to America was a huge one.  (It was named Monarch of the Sea and there were 973 people on board.)  Before it was loaded it stood so high above the water, and we had to wait some time while the sailors loaded heavy freight into the hold. 

Monarch of the Sea, 1020 LDS passengers on this voyage.

    “I have always tried to forget the journey across the Atlantic.  Our rations were raw beef, large hard soda biscuits, water mustard, and salt.  Sometimes we would have to wait most of the day for our turn to cook our meat.  Brother James knew no sickness on the whole journey and was a favorite with the sailors.  On one occasion he was riding the loose timbers, that slid back and forth with the motion of the ship.  One time he went so dangerously near the railing that they sent him below.  The winds and waves were so high sometimes that the flag on the main mast touched the waves as it rolled.  Trunks and boxes had to be tied down.  The vessel had three decks and there were bunks all around the two lower decks.  I had seen several bodies go down the gangway into the deep.  Then came the day that baby Amanda’s little body with a rock tied to her feet was lowered into the water.  A little later it seemed as if it were my turn, I could not eat the crackers.  Mother tried everything, but I got worse.  Then she fed me the raw beef and I began to improve…We did see many varieties of fish.  Sometimes the passengers, men and women, helped bail out water, when it seemed the ship might sink.

Nilsson family on the Monarch of the Sea passenger list

    “Finally we reached New York, and the main body of the saints took steamer for Albany, New York.  (They reached New York the morning of Jun 3rd).  We crossed New Jersey by train to the Delaware River.  We had to wait a number of hours for the ferry, and when we got aboard it was so suffocating that sister Matilda succumbed.  Mother laid her out under some tree on a beautiful lawn.  The setting sun, and approaching dusk cast a hallowed gloom over the scene.  We sat silently watching by the side of mother, while father was off looking for a place to bury her.  It was a beautiful, and sad sight to see father and another man carrying her body away from her loved ones to be laid in an unknown grave.  The setting of clear, blue sky, and the twinkling of the stars overhead, shining down through the trees made a variegated carpet where we sat.  It would be impossible to describe mothers feelings as she was the guiding star of the family, and she knew we would meet Matilda again beyond the grave. 
    “We went by train from here, and the first incident of note was the crossing of a very high, and long bridge; large vessels with high masts could pass under it.  The train stopped on the bridge while another train passed us.  A few days later we were informed that the bridge had collapsed.  We saw much of the country that had been desolated by the Civil War.  Then we were joined by the group that went by way of Albany.  They were riding on boards in cattle cars. 
    “(Some time about this time in the story of Johannes Nilsson was baptized.  It was 25 Jun 1864.  He was confirmed the same day and later that year he was ordained an Elder)
    The car we rode in had no cushions on the seats.  Sister Josephine’s cheek began swelling; we thought from the jolting of the car.  Some people recommended a certain poultice which ate the flesh off her cheek.  Next we went aboard a steamer on a river.  It was restful for a few days.  All of us made our beds on the floor, starting in the center of the main mast or flag pole.  Then another circle started at the feel of the first.  Brother James and I slept on a board which formed a shelf on the side of the ship.  The space between each shelf was large enough for a full grown colored gentleman so there was plenty of room for us boys who were small for our ages.  There seemed to be two streams in the river, one quite clear, the other very muddy.  By this time we were getting tired with never any rest or change and the vermin were getting unbearable.  Josephine steadily got worse and mother realized that it was only a matter of time until she would go to join her sisters.  When we reached Omaha Josephine was a corpse.  With the dead child and the luggage to carry father and mother could not help me.  I remember that I crawled and walked alternately, with my parents waiting and encouraging me.  We finally go to the top of a hill where mother laid me on the grass among some shrubs while she and father went for more luggage.  When I became able to walk I went down by the river and watched the people do their washing, and try to get rid of the cooties before we started on the tip over the plains.  Several graves were dug in this place.  (The family reached Omaha in Jul.  They rode the steamer from St. Joseph, Missouri up the Missouri River to Wyoming.  They had taken a train from Albany, New York to St. Joseph Missouri.  LDS teams took them from Wyoming to the Salt Lake Valley)
    “In due time bays and wagons from Utah arrived and everything was loaded for the trip.  There was a stove and tent in each wagon.  Then the luggage and two families were piled in and we were off for Zion. 
    At first there was an abundance of grass.  I liked to watch the donkeys in the train.  Day after day we traveled and the only living thing of any size was an occasional stage coach and the station built along the way.  One day I got out of the wagon and ran ahead until noon.  After that I had to walk most of the way.  One day two young women sat down to rest.  All at once the screamed and jumped up.  Then a man killed a large rattler where they had been.  I have seen families take a corpse out of the wagon, dig a shallow grave and then hurriedly catch up to the train which did not stop.  Then we got a glimpse of the mountains in the distance.  We also saw large herds of buffalo.  While camping one night a herd was coming directly towards us.  Some men rode out and turned them.  To avoid a stampede of our oxen we started out and the teamsters were able to keep them under control.
    “The first Indians I saw was at the stage station.  There must have been several hundred of them and we could see their wigwams in the distance.  We were now getting into great sage brush flats and everybody was warned against starting fires.  One day at noon we joked up in a hurry because someone had let their fire get the best of them. 
    “Now we began to meet companies of soldiers.  They generally led horses with empty saddles.  Next we saw where a fire had burned some wagons in the company in which grandmother crossed in 1862.  The whole country round was black and the grass had not started.  When we crossed rivers they were not too deep, the men and women waded.  Two government wagons were caught in the quick sand near where we forded.  As we got into the hills there was a lot of elk, deer, and antelopes.  One man on a gray horse did the hunting for the group.  Several times the oxen tried to stampede.  On parts of the trail men had to hold the wagons to keep them from tipping over.  The most interesting of all to me was at Echo Canyon where they told how the Mormon scouts had marched round the cliff and made Johnston’s army believe there were a whole lot of them when in fact there were very few.  We found chokecherries along the road but they were too green.  The last hill seemed the longest and steepest and we did not reach the top until late in the evening.  Next morning everyone was happy.  Cherries were riper and so good to eat they failed to choke.  Happy beyond expression we hastened to get a view of Canaan and Joseph’s land, where the Elders of Israel resided and Prophet’s and Apostles to guide the Latter-day Saints.  (They arrived about the 15th of Sep in Salt Lake City)
    “Having seen some of the big cities of the world you may imagine our disappointment when we looked down from Emigration Canyon upon Great Salt Lake City by the Great Salt Lake.  We saw Fort Douglas where some of the soldiers were stationed.  One aged man exclaimed, “why the children cry here as they did at home!”
    “We entered the dear old tithing square and rested for noon.  Now it was for us to decide where we wanted to settle.  We decided to go to Logan and it happened that John, our teamster was going there too.  While in the yard Sister Lindquist who had visited us in Sweden brought us a large watermelon, the first I had seen in my life.  She was a beautiful young woman and I thought was very nice. 
    “We soon headed north with John driving the wagon and mother, father, James and I walking behind the wagon.  As we were nearing the outskirts of the city a good lady sent a little girl out to us with two delicious apples.  How good people were to us.  It would certainly be a pleasure to know these fine people.  It was about sundown when we passed the Hot Springs and we kept going until quite late.  When we got to the canyon above Brigham City we over took a number of wagons and Scandinavian Saints.  When we reached what was called Little Denmark, now Mantua, we were feted by these good saints, and given a new send off.  It seemed such a long trip through the canyons, but interesting as the teamsters had a number of bear stores it tell.  Later we learned that some people had been attacked by bear at this place.  We camped just below Wellsville near the bridge above Cub Creek. The people here gave us some potatoes.  They were boiled and their jackets all cracked open.  This was a treat I shall never forget.  We arrived at the Logan public square about noon.  There was a liberty pole in the center.  On one corner was a lumber shack where all our worldly good were put and the teams drove away.  Father located a short, robust Swede who hauled our wealth into his cow yard and we made ourselves comfortable.  We cooked over the fireplace in the log cabin.  For a few days father did not have work so all four of us went out gleaning.  When threshing began with the fall, father was in his glory and never lacked a job. 
    “The most important thing ahead was to prepare a shelter for the winter which was fast approaching.  Logan was planning to take care of the emigrants and her future by digging a canal north along the East bench.  All newcomers were given a city lot to be paid for by work on this canal.  At the same time the number of acres of farm land was apportioned with the number of cubic yards of dirt to be removed to pay for the land. 
    “The first homes were mostly dugouts in the side of the hill.  That first winter, Father carried willows from the Logan River bottom which was our fuel.  He cut some small green sticks short and buried a few of these in the ashes each night to start the fire with in the morning. 
    “We were just moved into our home when Annetta Josephine (Grandma Annie Jonas) was born on 18 Nov 1864.  She was the first child born in Logan Fifth Ward.  Mother was alone except for James and me.  James was sent to fetch father who was threshing wheat for John Anderson.  When he arrived with a sister, mother had already taken care of herself and the baby.
    “All went well until January when it began to thaw.  Soon our dugout was filling with water.  It was knee-deep when father made a path so we could get over to the neighbor’s cabin.  We carried water out all day, and the rest of the water soon soaked up.  So that by laying a few boards on the floor we were able to go back in the evening. 
    “It was the most severe winter.  The snow was deep and it drifted so that only the tops of the houses could be seen.  Thatcher’s mill, the only on one in town, was frozen up, and we had to get along on bran bread.  Father moved the cow to the side of the house that afforded the most protection from the wind. 
    “As soon as spring started, all hands set to work on the canal.  The men and boys had to pass our place on the way to work.  The boys seemed to delight in calling us “Danishmen.”  James and I carried the water from the old Fourth Ward canal down on the river bottom.  We always took a slide down the hill.  This was alright as long as the snow was on the ground, but as soon as it began to thaw, we got soaking wet, and we usually ended up sick with bad colds.  Poor mother had not time to be sick. 
    “The first Sunday School we attended was in the cabin of John Archibald.  Soon there were so many that we could not get in.  The Superintendent was Sandy Isaac, a fine young man. 
    “The summer was a happy one.  Father bought two ewes, and they each had a lamb.  This, with the cow, made a herd for me to care for.  Most of the town drove their sheep past our place up on the college hill to feed.  While we herded we also picked service berries.  The boys showed us where the best berries were over on Providence flat.  One day mother and two other women went with us…
    “This fall we were much better prepared for winter than we were a year ago.  We had two cows, four sheep and a yoke of steers.  There was a barn for the animals, and we had a log house.  We raised 120 bushels of wheat on six acres, and mother had done considerable gleaning.
    “When mother went gleaning, I had to stay with the baby.  One day I left her on the bed while I went out to play.  She rolled off the bed and got a big lump on her head.  She was still crying when mother came home.  Some days she took both of us with her.  When baby slept then I could help glean.  Mother would carry a two-bushel sack full of heads on her shoulder, and set the baby on top.  It surely looked like a load to carry.  James was with father.  He would rake the hay while father cut it with the scythe and snare.  Father did not like to have mother go gleaning, but the money she got from the wheat was her own, and she liked good clothes and to be dressed well.
    “In the fall the ward organized…The old meetinghouse had a fire place in the east end. and the door in the west.  We held school in the same building…Dances generally kept up until morning…They began around seven o’clock in the evening.  About nine there would be some singing…after singing, we had games of strength, wrestling, and boxing.  In the wee small hours we were ready to go home.  These dances were opened and closed with prayer…
    “I almost forgot one incident that happened in 1866.  Father turned his steers on the range in the spring.  One of these was to be given to the Indians to keep them friendly.  The other one Bill, could not be found.  Father located the first one in the Indians herd.  We went down and told them that this steer was his. “How can you prove it is your steer?”  Father went up to her, took hold of his horn and led him to the Indians.  They laughed and told him to take it.  He led the steer home, a mile away, by holding to the horn.  James hunted every where for Bill.  He searched in almost every cow herd in the valley.  In the anguish of his soul he knelt down and prayed.  As he arose a feeling of satisfaction entered his bosom.  He was soon rewarded by finding the long, lost steer.  He succeeded in driving him home, and all were joyful and recognized the hand of Providence in answering James’ prayer.
    “More and more people moved into the ward.  A great many of them were Scotch.  There was a sixteen year old girl who used to visit with mothers.One day she told mother she thought Mr. Nelson was a lovable man, and that she would like to be his second wife.  Mother was delighted and did everything to get father to accept her, but in vain…
    “(In 1867 they went about 90 miles and were sealed in the Endowment house in Salt Lake City.  The Endowment House records for 4 Oct 1867: Johannes Nilsson and Agneta Bengtsson Nelson received their endowment and were sealed.)
    “Father made a fish trap out of willows like the one mother’s family had in Sweden.  We had fish all of the time.
    “Every other week we herded cattle down in the fork of the Logan and Bear Rivers.  It was seven miles from Logan.  The banks of the river were covered with willows, where lived bars, wolves, snakes, skunks, and other pests.  James herded alone most of the time.  The Indians called him a hero.  I stayed with him one week.  The dog went home, and I was ready to leave.  The wolves looked defiantly at us, and at night the snakes crawled over our faces.  I was glad to stay home and herd the small herd near home, I had my prayers answered in finding sheep when they were lost…
    “On June 14, 1867, mother had a baby boy whom she named Joseph Hyrum.  That fall we moved into the Fourth Ward.  I soon learned to love Bishop Thomas X. Smith…
    “On Christmas and New Year’s Eve, we stayed up on Temple hill all night so we would be ready to serenade early in the morning…
    “Our grain completely taken by grasshoppers in 1867.  The sun was darkened by them they were so thick.  We had to sell our oxen, but got $175.00 for them when the usual price was only $125.00.  We had bought them four years before, and father always kept them butter fat.  We bought a pair of two years old steers for seventy five dollars, and grain with the other seventy five.  Then father worked on the railroad and James and I gleaned corn.  James traded a good pocket knife for corn.  Again we traded corn for shoes.  There wasn’t enough money for us to go to school that year, but father bought a large Bible, and the two of us read through to Chronicles the second time.  Here I gained the fundamental principles of the gospel which helped me throughout the rest of my life, and I always knew where to go for information, God and the Bible. 
    “Father traded his oxen for a team of young mules, very poor, but gentle.  The first time we tried to drive them was to a funeral.  On the way home a dog rushed out at us and the mules were off.  They ran home, and stopped at the corral.  We learned they had run away the first time they had been driven.  As long as we owned them we were in danger of our lives because they could not be handled.  Mother did a better job than any of us in driving them.
    “The year that the grasshoppers took our grain I furnished fish which I caught in the Logan River.  There were chubs and some trout.  The time when the hoppers were so thick I will never forget.  I was fishing down in the river, and an electric storm was over near Clarkston.  There seemed to be an air current in that direction and in a little while I could scarcely find any bait. 
    “I think it was in 1869 that we had a glorious 4th of July celebration.  A whole band of boys dressed as Indians and tried to pick a fight.  Some of us really thought they were Indians.  Then we saw President Brigham Young with mounted men riding along side his carriage.  Quickly we all formed in line along the main street, and as he came along he would bow to us bare foot children.  We really loved these men and rarely missed a chance to go to the Tabernacle to hear them talk.  One time he asked the grown ups to leave while the boys and girls gathered around the stand to hear Martin Harris bear his testimony about seeing the plates from which the Book of Mormon was taken.  We were told to never forget these things and to always tell the boys and girls during our lives this story.  I have sometimes forgotten to do this.  Martin Harris was a school teacher when a young man, and came to the assistance of the Prophet by giving the money necessary to get the Book of Mormon printed.  A short time before he died in Clarkston, he related the whole story of the part he played in the coming forth of the Book of Mormon.
    “This year (1868) we planted two acres of sugar cane on some new land up by college hill.  We hoed and petted that cane until it surpassed any thing around.  We barely took time out to eat our lunch.  Men working near said we were foolish to spend so much time on it.  James was a very good worker and a good leader for me.  In the fall he worked at the molasses mill down town, receiving a half gallon of molasses for twelve hours work.  Father hired a boy to help me hoe the cane at the same price.  He never came to work on time so I sent him home and did the work myself.  From one acres we got 175 gallons, and the other 225 gallons, a small fortune. 
    “The last spring that I herded, father had about 75 sheep and 50 cows.  There was no snow late in the fall and water was scarce.  When I started home at night the cows would almost run to get to Springs where Greenville now is.  Then before I could get them they were in somebodies field.  I usually had a lamb or two to carry and had to run till I was exhausted.  At last a small Swiss boy with only one cow to herd helped me out.  He soon got tired of mixing with me but I did not let him quit.  I have herded in the spring when it snowed so I could hardly see the animals.  All others had gone home, but I had to stay because we did not have fee feed at home.  My clothes would be soaking wet, and when a sharp wind blew, I got mighty cold.  One time two of the ewes got lost.  They had been shorn late so they could not stand the cold and I found their carcasses later.
    “Mother sheared the sheep, washed, carded, spun, and wove the cloth to make our clothes.  It was about 1870 (born 9 Dec 1870 and died the same day.  They were buried 10 Dec, 1870) when mother had the twins, Jacob and Jacobina.  They were very tiny and lived only four hours. 
    “Father was a hard worker.  He cut hay with a scythe and swath.  One time a neighbor was vexed because his five acres had not been cut.  Father went down on Sunday and did not come home until he had cut all of it on Monday.  The man could hardly believe that it could be done. 
    “Mother led the social set in this part of the Ward.  I would listen as she related different incidents told her at these parties.  One pertained to our friend…He married a young woman after his first wife had no children.  But after consenting to the new wife, she gave birth to a son and they very soon after two sweet girls.  Almost the same thing happened to a fine young Danishman who moved into the community….When his wife consented to give him a second wife she had a son herself.
    “In the fall of 1871 father bought ten acres of land planted to hay and right along side the other five.  I was sent out to drive a team making the road bed for the Utah Northern Railroad.  I was fourteen, weighed 75 pounds, and had never driven horses.  I was given a broken handled chain scraper and a balky team.  With these handicaps, and jeers from some of the men, it was a hard moth of two for me.  We had good food, so I gained in weight, strength, and experience.  With the money earned, father was able to bend the bargain on the land, and the fellow he had agreed to sell.
    “About this time we had a new baby sister come to our home.  (She was born 16 Dec 1872).  She was named Charlotte Abigail….to my mind the baby was a jewel.
    “I gave the money I earned herding cows to mother who bought all of her clothing, and always had a dollar or two on hand when it was needed most.  She always looked nice in her clothes, being very tall and slender, with beautiful golden hair.  At one time she weighed only 90 pounds.  She loved her children dearly, but required obedience, that we be neat and clean, and attend our church duties.  One morning before Sunday School she asked me to do some chore before I left.  I said “no” though I really wanted to do it.  Mother grabbed a strap lying on the floor, and hit me a smart rap across my shoulders.  A buckle on the strap cut my back and I yelled with pain and so did mother.  She washed my back quickly, and put a plaster on it, so it would not be seen through the thin shirt, which was all I had on my back.  Many times after in life I have thanked God for that blow.  It was just what I needed to get over being coaxed to do anything.  I also learned to love mother more if that were possible. 
    “Mother furnished the house and bought his tobacco with the butter and egg money.  Father was surely miserable at the end of the week when his weekly supply was gone.  When I was allowed to go to the store to buy tobacco, I would put it in my hands and hold it over my nose so I could get a good smell of it.  Father had quit the habit on the way to Utah, but some foolish men persuaded him to take a bite, and he never could quit again.  He tried one time, and was so sick he had to go to bed and get a doctor to bless him.
    “Brother James was quick to learn, and was especially good at entertaining and on the stage.  A Mr. Crowther from the Salt Lake Theatre gave him a part of a colored boy, and with only two rehearsals and no book, he made good, and people were wondering who the darky was.  Mother was proud of her boy…
    “All the boys in town received military training down on the tabernacle square…
    “About this time we had our last episode with the mules.  They tried to run from the start.  We boys got out of the wagon to fix the chin strap on one of them.  They leaped in the air, and as they came down they broke a line and away they ran.  One by one parts of the wagon were left behind.  Father was thrown out with the bed.  When we finally caught up with them, the tongue, one wheel, and a hub of the front axle was all there was attached to them.  We were grateful that no one was hurt.  We traded them off for a team of horses.  The man who bought them drove along the railroad through sloughs and no roads and beat the train. 
    “Mother made dances for us boys, and served refreshments to all who were present.  We had attended two terms at the dancing school the year we had so much molasses, and mother went with us the one term.  This made us the best dancers in Logan…
    “I found James working on a gravel train, and began working with him.  Two would load a car, each one his half.  George Watson, the boss, told me I could not shovel the gravel fast enough.  I told him I could do anything my brother did.  I almost failed the first few days.  We would load as fast as we could, then jump on the car and ride to Mendon, unload and back again.  When this job was completed James got work on the section at Hampton, and father and I on a railroad spur between Dry Lake, near Brigham City to Corinne.  When we reached Corinne we were treated to all the beer we wanted.  On the way back to Brigham City, the crew and all the workers were feeling the effects of the beer.  Father said, “you act as though you were drunk,”  I retorted, “I have never been drunk in my life.”  A man thirty five years old said, “That isn’t saying much for a boy.  If you can say that as a man of thirty five you will be saying something.”  Right then I made the resolution that I would never get drunk.  Now at sixty nine I can say that I have kept this resolution.
    “This was a prosperous year for our family.  (1873)  We bought a fine team of horses to do our farm work, and we had had work on the railroad.  In October, mother gave birth to a little boy, Moses Nelson.  (born 25 Oct 1873)  She was very sick, and we had a nurse to care for her.  I always felt inferior to James, but one day mother called me to her and said, “August, if I die I want you to care for the children.”  That had always been my job around the house.  Later one evening, mother kissed me and said, “You have been a good boy.  God bless you.”  With a smile she turned her head and breathed her last.  (died 4 Nov 1873)  God alone knows what little children lose when mother is gone.  While sick I had heard her say, “I do not want to leave my little children.”  Little did I know or realize what home would be without her.  She was more than ordinarily ardent and spiritually minded, with high ideals, and a comprehensive knowledge of the gospel.  (buried at Logan Cemetery 9 Nov 1873)
    “After mother was laid away, I was sent up to Richmond to work on the railroad.  The weeks passed in a whirl.  Soon baby Moses died, (died 12 Nov 1873 and buried 14 Nov 1873 in Logan Cemetery) and father came up to work with me.  James was with the children and took care of the things at home.  We soon returned and James started school.  I did all the house work except the starching and ironing.  I was 16, Annette 9, Joseph 5, And Charlotte 2.  The washing was a stupendous job.  The water was hard.  I tried putting the clothes in a sack when I boiled them to keep the hard water from forming on them.  If only some friend had called and told me how to break the water and to put a little soda in the bread when it soured, it would have been a God send.  It would have meant better bread and cleaner clothes for the next three years.  I also had to shear the sheep.  This had been mother’s job.  I managed for the first day, and in time finished in some fashion…
    “Sometime in January Uncles Lars and Nels Bengtsson came and took James with them to Spring City in Sanpete County.  I always loved that brother, the only one left who had come with me from Sweden.  We sometimes quarreled, but we were always together.  Now we had no work from him for over a year. 
    “The baby, Little Abigail, generally asked for milk during the night, but she would not accept it from me.  One night I told father to lie still and I would give it to her.  She refused to take it from me.  I went outside and cut a switch from a current bush.  When she called for milk again I held it out to her.  She refused.  I said to father, “Cover up,” and I struck the covers over him with considerable force.  I sat down and began reading.  Pretty soon she called for milk.  I said “Here it is Lottie,” she drank it and never said “no” to me again in my life.  She grew to be a tall and slender; had light golden hair and had a sensitive disposition with high ideals.  I have seen her swing on our gate most of a Sunday all alone, because she felt her clothes were not good enough to mingle with other children.  Before I left home in 1876, I could pick her up from the floor and dance with her.  She had perfect rhythm and enjoyed going to the dances to watch and oh how her little soul leaped with joy when she could get on the floor and dance.  (Charlotte Abigail died 23 Nov 1902.  She never married.  She missed her 31th birthday by a few weeks.  She is buried with Annette and August in the Crescent Cemetery.)
    “My soul cried out for a mother’s love and care.  I am very fearful that when mother sees me, she will say, “You have done tolerably well but you failed to care for the children.”  In my weak way I am still trying to care for children, everybody’s children, God’s children. 
    “I remember when father married again.  The woman had several children of her own.  It was a sad day for mother’s three little ones when step mother and her children moved into out home…
    “I had my try at tobacco too.  An exbartender from Salt Lake City was smoking a pipe.  I asked him to let me try it, and began puffing away.  Father called me to one side and said in an undertone with so much soul that it penetrated my very being, “Don’t be a slave, be a free man.  You have seen me try to quit the habit, even suffer because I couldn’t.”  His advice, I felt, was too good to discard, and I never took up the habit…
    “It was the 16 Oct 1876 when I and three other fellows started for the smelters in Sandy…  John Benson took his team and wagon and took James and me to Sanpete County.  We went to Ephraim to see grandma Johanson, who left Sweden several years before we did.  She was delighted with her grandsons.  She had told her neighbors what nice people were hers in Sweden, of course they thought she was boasting, but now they could see that it was the truth.  How nice it would be if we always lived to be a credit to our ancestors. 

Back (l-r): Virgil, Lawrence, Fidelia, Moses. Front: Paul, Nels, Fidelia, August

    “Uncle Nels had two little girls, one could not walk as the result of a fever.  I began to take part in the talk and general pleasure, and stood well with all.  Uncle lectured every evening on doctrinal subjects…a patriarch came to the home and every one had a blessing.  Uncle Nels, his wife Philinda, and her sister Fedelia, and their blessings John was promised a family; James, a stupendous power over the elements but no family….My blessing has come true as far as I have lived for it….(date of blessings 16 Sep 1890)
    “It is just possible that I shirked my duty and promise to mother to care for the children.  Father offered me my lot, home of the land, and would help build a house if I would take the children.  but I wanted to go and make money.  When I think of mother’s charge to me, and the sad life of the children, my whole soul weeps over my dereliction, but fate drew me to the south…
    “It is difficult to note details by memory, but I have this to record for 1893.  My sister Charlotte Abigail lived with us that summer.  When she went to Logan that fall she had the fever.  Later she went to Washington to visit my sister, Annie, wife of Joseph Jonas.  (Jul 1901)  Annie had been sick for a long time, but none of us knew the nature of her illness until Charlotte brought the whole family to Utah with her.  It turned out to be mental illness.  She kept running away so we finally had to put her in the institution at Provo, where she died a short time after…(She died 23 Dec 1907 and was buried Christmas Day)
    “…When Charlotte brought to Jonas family to us there were five children.  It was sad to see sister in her condition.  I had not seen her since 1873 (28 years).  The last letter I had written her was from Bristol, Nevada.  I suggested to her that she should marry a Mormon boy.  Her reply was that Mormon boys were not as genteel as Gentiles…  Her husband destroyed her letters to us, so we never knew what she was going through…  The Jonas children became ours.  My sister Lottie, worked in Logan until she became so sick and weak she came to our home where she died, 23 Nov 1902.  Father died 20 Nov 1902, and Annie was sent home from Provo a few years later (1907).  From father’s estate I received about $700.00 and the same amount as guardian of my sister’s children.  Mothers last instruction to me keeps running through my mind.  “August, you have been a good boy, God bless you.”  Oh, Father in Heaven, have I at least with all my weakness striven with a desire to do my duty to them and to my mother?” 
    “…I had three of my sister’s boys and two of my own to help (while two of his sons went of missions).  We put up as high 400 tons of hay and had at the ranch nearly two hundred head of cattle, and often over 200 head of hogs, besides the milk cows.  We had 160 acres on the State Road and rested 80 acres from Men Mill for many years.  There were two homes on the farm at that time two on the ranch.  Forty acres on the ranch were cultivated and irrigated, and the 1000 acres was divided into different sized pastures open at the top.
    “The work that my lads did seemed to others beyond their power.  I had some hired help most of the time.  The boys were generally out of school two months of the school year, but never lost a grade…
    “So ends Nels August Nelson’s history of his parents, siblings, aunts, uncle, and grandmother.  The following is an account of the voyage that Johannes Nilsson and Agnetta Bengtsson made.  It is recorded from the History of the Church.  “On 10 April 1864 at 5 pm the Swedish Steamer L. J. Bager sailed from Copenhagen, carrying 250 emigrants from Sweden and Norway and some from Frederica Conference, Denmark, in charge was J.P.R. Johansen.  This company of saints went by steamer to Libeck, then rail to Hamburg, thence by steamer to Hull, and thence by rail to Liverpool, where the emigrants joined the Company from Copenhagen on the 15th of April…”
    “On Thursday 28th of April, the above emigrants sailed from Liverpool, England, in the ship ‘Monarch of the Sea’, with 973 souls on board.  Patriarch John Smith was chosen President of the Company, with Elders John D. Chase, Johan P. R. Johansen, and Parley P. Pratt as counselors.  Elders were also appointed to take charge of the different divisions of the company.  During the voyage there was considerable sickness and several children died.  On the morning of June 3rd, the ship docked at New York where the landing of the passengers at once took place.
    That evening they were sent by steamer to Albany, New York, and from there by rail to St. Joseph, Missouri, thence up the Missouri River to Wyoming, from which place most of the Scandinavian saints were taken to the valley by the church teams of which 170 were sent out that year. 
    “Thus about 400 Scandinavians crossed the plains in Captain William B. Preston’s Company of about fifty church teams that left Florence Nebraska in the beginning of June and arrived in Salt Lake City on 15 September.
    “Agneta Bengtsson had blue eyes and reddish brown hair.  Her son, August, said she had golden hair, so it must have been a lighter shade.  We don’t know what color eyes and hair Johannes had, although he most likely took after the traditional Scandinavian.  After Agneta Bengtsson died Johannes married two different times.  One marriage took place about 1876, and the second sometime after 1884.  The county clerk of Cache County wrote the following when Johannes Nelson died in the death record p. 18, line 112, “Johannes Nelson died Nov 26, 1902 age 75.  He was a farmer, had lived in Cache County 38 years…He was a Caucasian, white male and lived in Logan.  The cause of death was General Debility.”  He is buried at the Logan City Cemetery and was buried Nov 30, 1902.  Johannes had given the church a donation of money which was considered a large sum in those days.  When hard times came Johannes asked for some of the money back.  Since there wasn’t a receipt made he wasn’t given the money, or a part of the money back.  Because of the money not being returned he decided not to pay his tithing to the Church the last years of his life. 

Randolph, Utah

My father has been writing his history.  I am helping edit it so I get to read it as we go along.  I read about living in various places and realized I had not seen or was not familiar with many of the locations.  On 25 April 2020 I loaded him up and my sister, Andra, and we made a trek to eastern Idaho, western Wyoming, and northern Utah.  We made various stops.  Unfortunately we didn’t get as many pictures as we probably should have.

For a couple of years my Dad worked at a site in Leefe, Wyoming.  While there, he lived in a trailer on the site and two other homes, both in or near Randolph, Utah.

The home in Randolph is no longer there.

Dad said he rented this house from the Argyle Family.  He talked about the spring on site.  The leather harnesses and buggy he has out at his house now came from the barn that used to be on this location.  Old man Argyle said they were garbage and not worth anything and Dad could have them.  He helped himself and are still in possession of the family today.  We pulled into the driveway and snapped a couple of photos on the way through.

Argyle Home north of Randolph, Utah

Dad says the porch is different than it was then and that the wood siding was not there and changes the look of the house quite a bit.

Side view of Argyle House in Randolph

Dad talked about the snow being so deep one winter that he could ride the snowmobile from this house to the mine about 7 miles away.

Argyle House north of Randolph, Utah

Shed/cabin near Argyle House

In the distance in this photo you can see Rex Peak.  Dad talked about the mining operation that surface mined off Rex Peak in the 1970s and took the ore via the haul road to Leefe, Wyoming to the plant there.  He talked about the access through Brazier Canyon going up to the strip mining off the peak.

Dad talked about the spring to the east of this house and how beautiful the water was that came out of the spring.  On the maps it shows as Crystal Spring.

House in Randolph, Utah Larry and Louise Aslett lived in.

While trying to find their home in Randolph, Dad pointed out this house that Larry & Louise Aslett lived in while they lived there.

Ogden Cemetery 2018

We attended the Jonas Reunion near Huntsville, Utah earlier this month.  After playing for a couple of days, we headed home.  My poor family knows no trip is complete without a stop at a cemetery.  Here are some photos for our Ogden City Cemetery stop.

William Scott Donaldson and Mary Elizabeth Donaldson graves; Paul, Hiram, Aliza, and Lillie Ross

The first set of graves in this picture above are of William Scott Donaldson and Mary Elizabeth Williams Donaldson.  I have previously written part of their story.  William Scott Donaldson was born 18 June 1865 in Joyceville, Frontenac, Ontario, Canada and died 12 September 1913 in Ogden of cancer.  Mary Elizabeth Williams was born 7 April 1869 in Ogden and died 29 March 1951 in Ogden.  They married 2 October 1890 in Slaterville, Utah.  Their son, David Delos Donaldson, is my Great Grandfather.

 

David Delos Donaldson and Berendena Donaldson graves; Paul, Lillie, Aliza, and Hiram Ross

The second set of graves in this picture above are of David Delos Donaldson and Berendena “Dena” Van Leeuwen Donaldson.  I have previously written part of their history.  David Delos Donaldson was born 26 March 1894 in Evanston, Uinta, Wyoming and died 24 September 1953 in Salt Lake City of emphysema.  Dena Van Leeuwen was born 28 December 1898 in Ogden and died 5 March 1959 in Ogden.  They married 16 July 1919 in Salt Lake City, Utah.  Their daughter, Gladys Maxine Donaldson, is my Grandmother.

Gerhardus Hendrik Van Leeuwen and Hermina Janzen Van Leeuwen; Paul, Hiram, Aliza, and Lillie Ross

The third set of graves in this picture above are of Gerhardus Hendrik Van Leeuwen and Hermina Janzen Van Leeuwen.  I have previously written part of their account.  Gerhardus Hendrik Van Leeuwen was born 16 October 1856 in Oldenzaal, Overijssel, Netherlands and died 5 January 1932 in Provo, Utah.  Hermina Janzen was born 19 August 1860 in Gorssel, Gelderland, Netherlands and died 9 June 1921 in Ogden.  They married 31 March 1880 in Arnhem, Gelderland, Netherlands.  Their daughter, Berendena Van Leeuwen, is my Great Grandmother.

Brigham Young College 1915 Crimson Yearbook

I am a member of a Cache Valley Group on Facebook.  After some people posted a number of old photos, I asked if anyone knew if Brigham Young College had yearbooks and if someone had one for roughly 1915.  Within a day, Jennifer Johnson, a cousin of mine had found a copy of the Brigham Young College Crimson yearbook and made it available to me.  Here is a copy of the full 1915 Brigham Young College Crimson Annual if you are interested.

Sure enough, there on page 31 is my great-grandfather, Joseph Nelson Jonas (1893 – 1932).

Joseph Nelson Jonas’ Brigham Young College yearbook picture

Here is the full-page.  This is page 31 of the pdf.  The front of the yearbook says Crimson Annual 1915.  Page 4 shows that it includes the classes of 1915, 1916, 1917, and 1918.

Brigham Young College Crimson yearbook, page 31

Here are two copies of his diploma.

Joseph Jonas graduation diploma from Brigham Young College in Logan, Utah

 

I also found Joseph’s 1st cousin, once removed, Paul Ernest Nelson (1888-1970), was one of the teachers at BYC.  An interesting side note is that the page below states he, “Likes his Ensign.”  He and Martha Eunice Ensign were married 19 August 1914 in the Salt Lake Temple.  It also states he “[e]xpects to be a professor in psychology.”  Their first son, Paul Ensign Nelson, was born 26 June 1916 in Berkeley, California while he was attending school.

Brigham Young College yearbook, page 26

Here is a dedication to the Presiding Bishop of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints Charles Winder Nibley (1849-1931).

Dedication in 1915 Brigham Young College Crimson Annual to Charles Winder Nibley

Charles W Nibley was the Presiding Bishop from 1907 to 1925.  He was a kind benefactor to Brigham Young College and as Presiding Bishop was involved with the school.  Bishop Nibley was released in 1925 and became a counselor to Heber Jeddy Grant until his death in 1931.  He is one of the few people to serve in the First Presidency of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints who was not an Apostle.

Charles Winder Nibley (1849-1931)

Brigham Young College was located in Logan, Utah.  It was founded by Brigham Young shortly before his death.  The college was meant for individuals from Northern Utah, Idaho, and Wyoming.  When The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints closed all its academy’s in 1926, except Brigham Young University, it suffered the same fate.  The buildings were sold and became Logan High School.

As records become more and more available, who knows what else we may find of our ancestors.

 

 

The Story of My Life by Fred Nuffer

Georg Friedrich Nuffer in early 1950s

Another entry from “We of Johann Christoph Nuffer, also known as: Neuffer, Nufer, Neufer,” The book was published in April 1990 by Dabco Printing and Binding Co in Roy, Utah. I will quote from the book itself.

“Being in my 80th year and inclined to reflection I have a desire to put in writing some of the events of my life.  My memory is very clear, even back to the earliest years, and consequently few happenings are left out.  For this reason I am able to go into detail beyond which might be expected.

“I was born January 20, 1864, in the little city of [Neuffen], County of Nurtingen, State of Wuerttemberg, Germany.  My mother died when I was about 2.  I have one brother, John, a year older than myself, still living (1943).  Father married against so we were raised by a stepmother.  She was a very sincere and Christian woman and a good mother.  In 1870, when I was 6, I started in school and graduated from 8th grade in 1878.  When I was 14, my father bound me over to learn the trade of glazier and carpenter to a man by the name of Christian Selter in Stuttgart, the capital of Wuerttemberg.  I didn’t learn much the first two years as I had to do all of the errands throughout the city until a younger boy took my place so I could stay in the shop.

“In 1880, my parents were converted by the Mormon missionaries and wanted to emigrate to Utah.  Stuttgart was about 20 miles from Neuffen.  I received a letter from Father asking if I wanted to go with them.  I did, but my master would not release me.  The folks had to come through Stuttgart on their way, so I started to smuggle my things away and intended to join them.  My master found my trunk empty and suspected my intentions so he offered to let me go for 200 Marks.  I told Father and and he sent the money.  I doubt if my master could have held me by force as I was under age.  Three other families emigrated at the same time from the same town.

“From Stuttgart we went to Mannheim, down the Rhine River, to Rotterdam, then cross the North Sea to Grimsley, England.  From there we went to New York and then to Logan, Utah.  Father bought a house and lot in Providence, a suburb of Logan.

Young Fred Nuffer

“The first summer I went to work for a man named Oslob painting houses for 25¢ a day and board.  All he did was take the jobs and mix the paint.  In the fall, he sent me home and the next spring he offered me 40¢ if I would come back.  I told him I had something better.

“There was a man by the name of Thomas Ricks in Logan who had a contract to lay the rails from Dillon, Montana, to Butte City on the Utah and Northern narrow gauge line.  I asked for a job, although I was only a kid.  But he took me with him and gave me a job dropping spikes along the rails.  I got 75¢ per day and board.  I learned the English language very fast that summer as I got away from the German people.

“Dillon, at that time, was the terminus of the U & N.  It was a very small village.  By fall we got to Silver Bow, 7 miles from Butte.  I grew very fast that summer and was promoted to bolting the rails together on one side, and my wages raised  to $1.05 per day.  It was late fall and winter had started, but we had to get to Butte with the track.  The last 4 miles laid we had to shovel a foot of snow off the grade.  We got the Butte on Christmas Day, and it was the first railroad to that city.

“Mr. Ricks also had a grading job on a railroad along the Jefferson River.  He sent a crew of 6 men over there with a team.  I asked him to let me go along but he said I was too young.  It was about 75 miles south of Butte over a range of mountains.  When the wagons were loaded and they were ready to start, I crawled under the tarp and went with them.  When we got out about 8 miles, I showed myself but they couldn’t do anything about it.  We had a large horse tied to the hind end of the wagon.  He broke loose and ran back toward the camp at Butte.  I, being a boy, was sent back to catch him.  They thought that would be a good way to get me back to camp.

“In fact, I was the cause of the horse breaking loose.  I chased the horse all the way back to camp, caught him, put a bridle on him without anyone noticing me, and started after the wagon again.  I had never ridden a horse.  He was quite frisky and I fell off several times and had to find a high place to get back on.  I didn’t catch the wagon, but got off on the wrong road and landed in a wood camp.  They told me the road was about 10 miles east.  I started out over rough ground and got on the right road.  At that point the road started through a canyon.  There was much snow and ice on the road as it was between Christmas and New Year’s.  It was getting late and was very cold.  I had to keep going to keep from freezing to death.

“About 12 miles further, that night, I came to the halfway house and found the wagon and men.  They had just gotten there ahead of me and were in the house talking.  They also had had a hard time pushing the wagon up the hills through the snow.  I gave them a good cussing for not waiting for me.  I guess it sounded funny in my broken English.  They said they thought the boss would keep me at Butte.  They couldn’t understand how I ever got through, it being so cold.

“The next day we came to our camp on the Jefferson River.  My job was to drive two single dump carts out of a deep cut.  I took one out and dumped it while 4 men loaded another with shovels.  The men were kind to me and corrected my speech whenever I didn’t pronounce words right.  We worked there until spring when the projected suddenly was stopped from headquarters.  The road was completed some years later.  We went back to Dillon by team from there.  With the advent of the railroad, Dillon had grown fast and had become a division.  I took the train back to Providence, Utah.

“As soon as I got home, I went to work for the Jessop brothers, Tom and Tet.  They were railroad grading contractors.  Their campe was located where Lava Hot Springs is built now, in Idaho.  I became a night herder.  My job was to take the horses and mules out on the range in the evening and come back with them at 6 a.m. in time for the teams to start the day’s work.  I got $1.75 per day and rode my own horse.  The next two years I spent most of my time in the saddle.

“I began to master the English language.  I seldom heard German spoken during this time.  This was the spring of 1882.  In this campe, I had a pal of my age by the name of Mark Golightly.  He was a nephew of Joe Golightly of Preston and a near relative of Mr. Jessop, my boss.  He was a privileged character in camp and didn’t have to do anything if he didn’t want to.  He claimed to be a fast foot racer and kept bantering me for a race.  I finally told him I’d run if he accepted my distance.  He said he would run any distance.  I named the distance between our two camps, about 2 miles apart.  I put up my saddle and $15.  He put up a new $40 shotgun.  There was a great commotion in camp when the men heard of it.  They wanted to go right after dinner so they could all see us start.  Some called me a darn fool and said Mark was a professional foot racer.  But after we got started they all bet something on one or the other.  A man went along on horseback.  I had my mind made up to win.  I made it in 14 minutes, Mark in 25 minutes.  Mr. Jessop said I shouldn’t take the gun from the boy.  I said all right, I didn’t want it, but Mark made me take it saying that I had won it fair.

“Our next move was to McCammon on the U & N coming up from the south.  The road we were working was the Oregon Short Line, starting from Granger, Wyoming, and running west through Idaho to Oregon.  McCammon was the western-most point in the construction.  We pitched our camp where the depot now stands.  I got acquainted with the late H.O. Harkness who owned all the land around McCammon and a hotel and saloon.  He had the land fenced for about 3 miles square.  He had put a gate on the further side and wanted me to drive the herd outside every night, but by the time the herd got feeding close to the fence it was time to lead them back to camp since I had to be back so early.  The land was all sagebrush and greasewood and he did no farming at all.  Harkness tried to raise the devil with my boss, insisting on me going outside, but I never did.  Thirty years after this happened, I met Harkness at McCammon.  He was sitting on the porch of his hotel in a rocking chair.  He had aged and was fat.  He didn’t know me but when I told him I was Jessop’s night herder he shook hands and was very friendly.  I asked him if he remembered when I refused to take the herd outside of his land.  He said, “Well, I ‘ll tell you, the land wasn’t mine.”  He called his man, told him to hitch up the cart and took me all over his land, showed me his crops.  It was a different place from 30 years earlier.  He treated me like a lost friend.  Invited me to dinner.  Then a year after that he died.

“I might say the way Harkness got his start was by marrying the widow of a man that owned the toll bridge across the Portneuf River at McCammon.  Before U & N was built there was much freighting by team from Corrine, Utah, the closest railroad point to Butte.  They all had to cross the toll bridge.  It was at McCammon where the Oregon Short Line met the U & N.  The railroads intended to make McCammon a division and build their shops there, as plenty of water and suitable land was about.  But Harkness owned all the desirable land.  He got too greedy and wanted to hold up the price.  The railroads refused and went through the canyon on the same grade with U & N to where Pocatello now stands and made their division point and built their shops (in 1887 – after a year in Eagle Rock).  This land was on the reservation and they got it cheap from the Indians.  McCammon is still a very small settlement and Pocatello is the second city in Idaho, thanks to Mr. Harkness.

“Our next move was to the desert between American Falls and Shoshone, about 75 miles without water.  It took many 4-horse teams to haul water for the camps.  There were dozens of camps in that lawless country.  Many horse thieves and all kinds of bad men.  Whenever one was caught in the act they would raise the wagon tongue, prop it up with a doubletree and hang them on it, dig a hole under their feet and bury them and nothing was said about it.  There were many occasions of that kind, for a man without a horse rarely lived long and for one man to steal another’s was just the same as taking his life and the penalty was also life.  The nearest authority was Boise City and they didn’t care anything about it.  The most general conversation in the camps was about horses and mules, pulling matches, foot races, riding wild horses, penny ante, and stud poker.

“When late fall came my job was ended.  About December 1st, I rode my horse home.  While riding over the desert, I had to buy water for my horse and dog at 25¢ per bucket.  Some distance from American Falls I met some tracklayers who were constantly following the grade builders.  I met several spike drivers whom I dropped spikes for the previous year in Montana.  At Pocatello I went to the section house and got a square meal.  It was the only building in the vicinity.  Not being able to get any feed for my horse, I went over to the river and turned him out and then slept out as usual.  The horse would not leave me and the dog to go very far.

“I stayed in Providence until about March 1.  This was the first time I took any notice of the dear girl who became my wife.  I was beginning to get of shaving age.

“About that time Jessop brought some more grading outfits from George Maler of Providence who was also a railroad contractor.  We loaded the outfit on flatcars at Logan and shipped them to Shoshone.  We rode in covered wagons on the flatcars.  At Battle Creek, near Preston, we stopped several hours, it being a terminal and a very tough place.  Several of the boys got drunk, especially one by the name of George Hovey.  He was continually climbing from one car to another until we missed him.  When we got to McCammon we got a message that the section hands had picked up the remains of a man on the tracks.  It turned out to be George Hovey.  Jessop went back and sent what was left of George to his mother who was a widow.  George had been working with us the previous year and was a very good boy.

“We could go to Shoshone on the train.  The tracks had been laid during the winter.  During the time that American Falls was the terminus there was a tent city across the Snake River with the usual quantity of bad men.  Several men who were known to have money disappeared.  The gamblers were under suspicion of having done the job.  They were ordered out of town and told that it would be too bad if they came back.  While they were gone the lawful citizens organized a vigilante committee.  After a few weeks, the gamblers, Tex and Johnson, came back and were seen going into a bakery.  They were surrounded in a gun battle.  Tex got his arm shot off.  Johnson wasn’t hurt.  A rope was placed around their necks and they were led out on the railroad directly over the falls.  They tied the ropes to the bridge and told them to jump.  Tex jumped and Johnson had to be pushed off.

“In connection with this incident, I happened to be placer mining in 1919 on the Snake River about 5 miles below American Falls.  One day I was walking to town and when I got close to the bridge I saw a bunch of men close by.  I went up to them and asked what the excitement was.  They had been digging post holes for an electric line to a brick yard.  They said they had dug up two men with their boots on.  I told them they were Tex and Johnson.  They had been buried there in 1883.  They asked me how I knew.  I told them I was there at the time.  They said, “You must be right because old Doc Brown, an old settler, told us the same thing.”  They had taken the bodies to town and were told to bring them back and bury them in the same place.  They were in the act of covering them up when I came upon them.  The old grave was on the edge of the rim rock with good drainage and they were in recognizable condition.

“The tent city of American Falls was now moved to Shoshone on flatcars.  While Shoshone was the terminus I believe it was the toughest and most lawless city that ever existed in the west.  There was no authority of any kind.  men gathered there from all the camps, at times about 2,000.  There were stores, gambling houses and dance halls.  Men got killed nearly every day.

“We were camped about half a mile from town on the banks of the Little Wood River.  I had a large, black, curly-haired dog, my constant companion and a coyote killer.  I rode into town one day when a large dog jumped onto mine.  My dog was getting the best of the other when a man ran out of a shack with an axe to kill my dog.  Just as the axe was being lifted I pulled my .44 and just in time.  I told the man to drop the axe or I would fill him full of holes.  He dropped it and ran.  I came within a few seconds of killing a man at that time and I believe I surely would if he had touched my dog.  And there would not have been anything done about it.  I carried a .44 Colt night and day by request of my boss as there were many horses being stolen nearby, but against me and my dog they had no chance.

“By the end of May, we got as far as Glenns Ferry, Idaho.  The first part of June we moved to Burnt Canyon above Huntington, Oregon.  During that trip I had a difficult time as I had to keep the herd out at night and then sleep in the wagon traveling over rough roads during the day.  The herd fed wherever night overtook us.  Sometimes there was very little feed.  One night we were camped where the Weiser grist mill now stands.  I took the herd out on what is now the Weiser Flats.  It was all sagebrush.  Now it is one of the best farm locations in the west.  There were a few log cabins where the Weiser Court House now stands and nothing more.

“Huntington had one store and one saloon.  It was tame to what we had seen.  We got too far ahead of the track gang which caused some delay.  At our camp in Burnt Canyon we had a China cook and a sort of person to cause trouble, it soon became evident.  Jessop’s wife and his grown daughter were the cook’s helpers.  The cook had a sore hand and wanted to lay off.  He said he had a friend in Boise that would be glad to come and take his place.  The boss told him to send for him.  In due time he arrived, about 7 o’clock one day.  The woman was in her tent at that time.  This new Chinaman went into the tent to talk to her.  She was just leaving to go to the cook tent.  She supposed he was following her out, but he didn’t.  Shortly after she went back to the tent to see where he was and caught him in the act of attempting to rape her 7-year-old girl.  She ran toward the dining tent and met me coming out.  She said, “Catch that Chinaman – he ought to be hung.”  I asked what he had done.  She wouldn’t tell me.  Just at that time her husband, Jessop, came riding in from the works.  She ran to him, told him something, then they both hurried over to me and said we got to hang that Chinaman.  He told me what he had done.  The Chinaman’s blankets that had been by the cook shack were gone and so was the Chinaman.  By that time the men had all come in from work for dinner.  No hell was popping.  The boss sent me up the road and he went down.

“There was a China camp up the road one half mile.  These men were working on a rock cut.  All the Chinaman were just coming out of the dining tent.  I ran up to the boss, an Irishman, and asked if he had seen a stray Chinaman.  He said no.  I decided he had not come this way as there were no tracks in the road either.  I arrived back at camp just as the boss did.  He said no one had been down the road so the Chinaman must be in the brush around camp.  All the men were called to hunt.  There were many acres of brush all around the camp, mostly hawthorn.  It was almost impossible to get through them.  Before long we found his blankets in the brush, it being too thick to get them any farther.  Then the hunt was on.  The only way to get him out was to burn him out and that is what was done.  There was much dry brush and it was in the dry season.  I got out on high ground on my horse where I could look over the brush and could see them waving as the Chinaman crawled through.  I directed the men to the spot by yelling the direction to go.  The Chinaman soon came out of the brush and jumped in the creek.  A bunch of men were there waiting for him and took him in charge.  From that point I took no active part.

“They abused him terribly.  One man took his queue over his back and dragged him.  The boss came running on his horse and said they had found a place to hang him.  Previously I had cut a trail through the brush to drive the herd night and morning to the other side of the creek into the hills.  There was a large hawthorn bowed over the trail and the boss had seen that so that is where they hung him.  They dug a hole under his feet and buried him in the center of the trail.  I drove the heard over his grave night and morning.

“There was a Chinaman who was the head of all the China camps in the vicinity.  He happened to be in the camp that I searched.  The fire could be seen for miles and caused some excitement.  This head Chinaman came to our camp to see what was going on.  He saw the Chinaman hanging on the hawthorn.  He had three of what he called our ring leaders arrested.  They were taken to Baker City, Oregon, for trial.  They all denied having a hand in the affair, claiming they were working on the grade at the time.  The timebooks showed full time for all, although no one had worked that afternoon.  So the case was dismissed.  During the hanging, an Irishman in our camp had pulled for the Chinaman saying that we had punished him enough without hanging him, too.  If the Irishman had not got out of their way they would have hung him, too.  That shows how crazy a mob can be.  It is not healthy to interfere.

“The country at that time was waving with bunch grass two feet high, with plenty of elk and deer and other wild animals.  Night herding was an easy job but there were rattlesnakes everywhere.  I could sleep in the grass from 10 p.m. to 4 a.m., then round up the herd and get to camp by 5:30; that is if I didn’t mind to sleep with the rattlers.  But I actually did.  I found it was too hot to sleep in the tent in the daytime, so I cleaned a place in the brush and made my bed on the ground and for a week every time the dinner bell rang, I stirred, a big rattler crawled from under the blankets and got away in the brush.  When I think of it I must have been a foolhardy kid as I didn’t pay any attention to the snake.  When I told the boys about this they called me a damn fool.  One day a friend stood by my bed when the dinner bell rang and, with a forked stick, he caught the snake.  He took it to the chopping block and cut off its head.  It still kept rattling.  I cut off about two foot more and it still rattled.  I put it in m pocket with the rattles sticking out, then walked into the kitchen.  The woman folks though I had a real one and all scattered.

“One night I was sleeping in the grass when my dog by my side growled.  As I raised up, the dog grabbed a rattler from the front of my face.  He caught it too far back from the head which permitted the snake to bite the dog several times on the side of the mouth.  It was moonlight and I could see it very plain.  He dropped the snake and walked around shaking his head which had already started to swell.  I took him to camp and tied him to a wagon wheel and went back to the herd.  In the morning, his head looked like a calf’s head.  He laid in the creek all day but went out with me every night.  I chopped up some meat and stuffed it down his through to keep him from starving.  The boys wanted me to kill him.  They said he might get mad, and if I did not kill him they would.  I told them the first one that hurt the dog would be a dead man.  They took my word for it and left him alone.  On the 12th day I heard the first faint bark.  The dog was getting well.

“Sometime in November, I bought two fine large horses and told my boss I was going to ride them home.  He said I’d never get there as it was over 400 miles of unsettled country.  I told him I would get there if I started, and start I did.  I went straight south of Snowville, just over the Idaho line into Utah.  I then back-tracked some and went east to Malad.  From there I went across the mountains to Franklin, Idaho, then south to Providence, Utah, the trip taking 12 days.

“Many things happened on this trip.  I camped wherever night overtook me and bought something to eat whenever I could.  Sometimes I had nothing but jackrabbit fried on the sagebrush.  It was harder on the dog than on me or the horse.  It was warm and dusty for that time of year.  Near Glenns Ferry, Idaho, I came to a house there.  He let me put my horse in the stable and I slept in the stake yard.  During the night the dog growled and as I peeped out from the blankets I saw the man pulling hay out of the stack.  I went to sleep thinking nothing of it.  Next morning my saddle was missing.  I accused the man of stealing it.  He denied it.  He said he hadn’t been out of the house all night.  I knew he was guilty and said so.  I marched him all through the house ahead of my gun, but found nothing.  I told him I’d kill him if I didn’t get the saddle.  It had cost me $50 and I had a long ways to go.  I stayed there a few hours and then he sent his boy off on a horse.  I supposed he went to get help as there were several cowboy camps throughout the country.  I figured that I had better be going so I made some rope stirrups for my pack-saddle, which was an old riding saddle, and put the bedding on the other horse without any saddle.  I started off.  I crossed at Glenns Ferry at about 4 o’clock that evening and went on into the desert.  Next day was a warm one and the dog gave out.  He traveled with his head close to the ground in the dust.  I couldn’t do anything about it.  The horses were getting dry and dying for water.  It wasn’t long until the road went downhill and I came to Snake River again.  I had to lead the horses to water three times before I dared to let them have all they wanted.  After awhile I saw the dog crawling down the hill.  He made it to the river.

“There was a stage station there and I got a square meal.  This place is now called Thousand Springs, and the country is well settled.

“I went through Franklin because I had a letter from my brother, John, telling me that the folks had moved from Providence to northeast of Franklin.  I went up Cub River a ways as that was northeast but found nobody that ever heard of the folks, so I turned south to Providence.  I had my reason to go to Providence.  My charming girl was there.

“John found out I was in Providence and came to get me.  They were located on Worm Creek on a homestead.  I stayed with the folks until spring, 1884, when I went to work on a gravel train and sometimes on a section between Montpelier and Granger.  That fall I took a herd of sheep for George Horn to the winter range on the promontory north of Salt Lake.  The spring of 1885 I met my old chum, Abe Kneiting, in Logan, and we decided to go to Butte.  We worked in a sawmill for awhile, about 8 miles west of Butte.  From there we went to Anaconda to drive a team in a wood camp for W. A. McCune.  I worked a few months in the Anaconda smelter but didn’t like it there.  I got to know Marcus Daly who was head of the smelter.  The wages at the smelter were from $3 to $6 per shift, according to the job.  That fall Daly cut the wages to 50¢ to $1 for the same work.  The way he did it was to shut the smelter down entirely for repairs, as he claimed, and started up one furnace at a time.  In a month, the smelter was in full force again with the wages cut and Daly got a $50,000 Christmas present.  The company wanted him to do the same thing in the mines at Butte.  He said it could not be done.  The union was too strong and he valued his life.

“The mines and the smelter were owned by the same company.  They also had a railroad that ran between the two places.  Mr. W. O. Clark was the head man for the mines.  The general talk by the men around Butte and Anaconda was about Marcus Daly, W. O. Clark and John L. Sullivan.  There was a mill and concentrator west of Butte called the Bluebird Mill, owned by the company.  This New York firm sent a man out to cut the wages in the mill.  The mill and smelter men had no union at that time.  Once, when the New Yorker was strutting along this street at the corner of Main and Clark, a bunch of men were standing there and they were whispering.  All at once they closed in on the New Yorker from all sides.  A few policemen came running.  The mob took hold of the police and told them to walk on down the street and that it was not healthy for them to stop or look back.  They went.  They dropped a rope over the New Yorker and threw the other end over a telegraph pole.  He begged so hard for his life that they told him if he would go back to New York and promise never to come back to Montana they’d let him go.  He promised.  About 100 men escorted him to the depot and put him on the first train.  They say he has never been seen in Montana since.  I worked for A. W. McCune until the spring of 1887 in the mines at Lion City.  The camp was called Hecly and the mine called Cleopatrie.  It was about 15 miles from Melrose, in the mountains.

Anna Rinderknecht Nuffer, 1933 in Mt Hebron

“In the spring of 1888, I took a layoff for two weeks.  My boss said if I was back in two weeks my job would be ready.  I went to Providence and met my charming sweetheart, Anna Rinderknecht.  I had courted her for the last 4 years.  I told her I came to get married.  She said all right.  We called the local Justice of the Peace, Alma Mathius, to the house.  He married us with her mother and two neighbors for witnesses.  Licenses weren’t necessary at that time.  She was raised in the Mormon Church.  I was baptized into the church when I was 16.  We were married under the condition that she would go with me to the mining camp where my job was waiting.  She said she would go anywhere I wanted her to go and be glad of it.  We were married on April 4, 1888.  We lived happily together for 55 years and 6 days.  She passed away April 10, 1943, at 15716 Saticoy Street, Van Nuys, California.

“Now I am due to tell the story of my married life which was altogether different conditions from my single life.

“We stayed in the mining camp until November, 1888, and went back to Providence.  That winter I went to Idaho and homesteaded 160 acres adjoining my father’s place.  It was between Cub River and Worm Creek.  I got out logs and built a one-room house.  I got a team and farming implements, moved into the log house and started farming in the spring of 1889.  We had a hard going for awhile.  The Cub River-Preston Canal circled our place.  I got a job ditch riding the canal which was great help.

“There was a large cliff of grey sandstone on my father’s place.  I started a rock quarry and got out stone in dimension sizes.  It was used for trimming on the better buildings going up throughout the neighboring towns.  It was much in demand.  The Academy at Preston was started about that time, with my brother, John, as supervisor of construction.  I got a contract to supply stone for this building which called for 2,000 cubic feet at 25¢ per foot at the quarry.  The stone was used for corners, sills and watertable.  The next year I furnished stone for nearly every town in Cache Valley.  That was before the cement age.

“In 1891-92, the Agricultural College at Logan was expanding.  I made contract with Mr. Venables of Ogden to deliver about 3,000 cubic feet of cut stone.  He had tried to get some stone somewhere south of the valley but found it unsuitable.  As I had furnished stone for several buildings in Logan he came to me.  I lived near the quarry at that time.  he inspected and approved the stone.  The quarry was about 10 miles up Cub River Canyon from Franklin, on the left side slope going up the river, on a small tributary of Cub River called Sheep Creek.

“All work was done by hand.  The main ledge was about 20 feet above the ground about 20 feet wide and 400 to 500 feet long.  We used 12 foot church drills and blasted large rocks loose from the main ledge.  We had to be careful how much powder we used so as not to shatter or cause seams in the stone.  We usually had to put  second charge in the opening made by the first charge to dislodge the block from the main ledge.  The block so dislodged was from 6 to 7 feet thick and about 20 feet long.  From then on all tools used were hammers, axes, wedges, and squares.  Grooves were cut with axes wherever we desired to split the block, then wedges were set in the grooves about ten inches apart and driven in with hammers.  Then we dressed them down to the right measurements, allowing one half inch for the stonecutters to take out the tool marks we made.  Venables furnished bills for stone in dimension sizes as needed in the building.

“My brother, Charles August Nuffer, worked on the job the whole time it lasted.  I also had a man by the name of Ed Hollingsworth of Preston, also Mr. A Merrill and Mr. Abel Smart of Cub River, and Mr. Robert Weber of Providence.

“It took part of two years for the job.  The hauling was all done with wagons and horses; 30 to 35 cubic feet was a good load for two horses.  These men did the hauling, John McDonald of Smithfield, Jean Weber of Providence, and Jake Rinderknecht of Providence who hauled more than any other.  He used to leave home at 3 a.m., load up the same day and get back to Logan by 3 p.m. the next day.  It was very hard on the horses.  I also hauled a good many loads with my own team.  All loading was done by hand on skids.  It seems the miles were not so long when we traveled with horses as it does now when we travel in cars.

“I got 40¢ per cubic foot, of which 20¢ was paid for hauling.  We had a hard time handling the name stone to go on the front of the building.  When it was ordered it had 30 cubic feet in it and only one foot thick.  When the stonecutters got through with it they found it too big to be hoisted in place so they made it smaller until there wasn’t much left.

“The most difficulty I had was in not getting my pay from the Superintendent.  We overlooked a large 4-horse load at the final settlement.  A few minutes after I had signed a receipt for the final payment in full I discovered my mistake.  He refused to pay for it, although I produced the bill of lading signed by him.  He didn’t dispute the debt, but said he had a receipt paid in full.  He didn’t have anything and the government property couldn’t be attached, so I was the loser of about $15, which seemed a lot of money to me at that time.  (Mr. Nuffer wrote this part in 1938 – excerpted here – at the request of college officials; it was part of a historical cornerstone insertion to be opened at the centennial in 1988.)

“About 1895 the Mink Creek – Preston canal was being dug.  I got the job to do all the rock work for a stretch of about 10 miles.  Later on, the Utah Power and Light Company built a large canal on the opposite side of the river from the Preston canal.  I had several large jobs on that work.  I was watermaster for one term on both the Preston canals.  From 1896 to 1898 I was occupied mostly with farming, horse raising, and cow milking.  In 1898, I traded my homestead for a farm nearer Preston on the brow of the hill near Battle Creek.  I bought a house and lot in Preston and moved the family there.  I had a few hundred head of sheep and leased 2,000 more from Joe Jensen of Brigham City.  I had them two years when wool and lambs went so low I had to give them up at a loss.  One of my mistakes.

“About this time the cement industry came into being.  I went into the cement business and built the first cement sidewalks in Preston.  I also built culverts, bridges and all kinds of cement work for the city and county.  When cold weather came all cement work was stopped.  Being an old timer, and always on good terms with the village Board, they gave me the job of special police in the winter.  As I had a big family to support it was a great help.  The city of Preston at that time had about 3,000 population and at times an unruly element visited the city and its three saloons.  It kept the policeman very busy, especially at night.  I was on duty mostly at night.

“In 1905, I built the first two-story hollow cement block house in that part of the country which I used for myself.  We lived in the cement house for 4 years.  About that time I heard from my friend who was living in Mexico, near Tampico.  He was raising sugar cane and told me how we could all get rich quick raising it at $400 an acre.  I and a friend went down to look it over.  Mr. Tomlinson, the real estate man at the colony, offered me 87 acres of choice jungle land very cheap if I would move my family down.  There was a large American colony at San Diegeto.  I sold our home in Preston for $5,000 and moved the family down there.  Another mistake.

“I intended to stay 5 years and get the place all planted in cane and then lease it out and come back a rich man.  I bought a lot and built a house in San Diegeto.  The town was 10 miles from the plantation, which was on lower ground along the river.  A bunch of us Americans went down tot he plantation every Sunday evening by train to look after our Mexican workers.  We would come back Saturday evening.  I had from 5 to 15 Mexicans working the clear the ground and do some plowing.  We had to plant tomatoes or corn first to get the ground in good condition for cane.  The second year I had 5 acres in cane and 30 acres ready to plant the next year.  I would have made it in 5 years if it hadn’t been for the Mexican revolution.  We came to San Diegeto in April, 1909.  That same year Mexico had a presidential election.  Diaz was elected again which started the revolution to run him out, and trouble began all over the country.  By 1911 it got so bad we had to leave as it was not safe there any more.

“I gave an old American, name of Tigner, a contract for 5 years.  He was to have the place all planted in cane and return all the implements and animals in good condition.  He thought he could stay on.  He made very good progress for two years when Villa moved in with his band, arrested all the Americans and gave them their choice to stay in jail or leave the country.  Tigner went to Tampico and left on a refuge ship.  I got a letter from him from New Orleans asking me to release him from the contract.  We were in our home town, Preston, when I got the letter.  I couldn’t do anything but release him, so I lost all my investments and was a broke man with a large family.  By that time I was in the cement business again and made a living at it.

“About 1924, a few hundred of us Americans from San Diegeto put in a damage claim in Washington against the Mexican government.  My claim was for $30,000.  The Mexican government agreed to pay $10 million at the rate of $500,000 per year over a period of 10 years.  I was allowed $1,500 and that was cut 50 percent because there wasn’t enough to go around.  Our lawyer in Washington gets 20 percent and our secretary, Mr. Tomlinson, gets 5 percent, so there isn’t much left.  (*The script may have meant 20 years.)

“In 1920, we left Preston and went to Weiser, Idaho, on a farm.  We stayed there 4 years when I got interested in an irrigation project in Butte Valley, Siskiyou County, California.  We did quite well there for a few years until we got in several lawsuits over the water and lost some at every suit.  So we always ran out of water about June 1st each year.

“There was a large cattle ranch in the south end of the valley called the Bois ranch.  This had exclusive right to all the water in the creek called Butte Creek.  The irrigation district bought the ranch for $50,000 in order to get the full rights to all the water.  The district started to take some of the water further down the valley.  The cattlemen and settlers above the valley said if the district can take the water away from the ranch they could do the same.  So they started to put dams in the creek.  As I was the only one that could use dynamite they always sent me to blow out the dams, which I did.

“A rich cattleman defied the district and put in a dam that a few sticks of dynamite could not blow out, as it was built with logs and large rocks and was about 25 feet across.  Our president asked me how many sticks it would take to blow it out and I told him about 100.  He said he would get it, as the dame must come out.  I told him I would not take the responsibility as the man had too much money and could cause me trouble.  He said he would send an officer with me to take the responsibility.  To this I consented.  They sent the local constable with me.  I tired 100 sticks of dynamite in a bundle, put it under the dame on the upper side near the bottom.  It did a good job.  There was no more dam nor a place to build another one near.

“The owner of the ranch wanted $1,000 damage.  About that time we had another lawsuit over the water with the other fellows and this man wanted to bring his case in at the same time.  We all attended court at the county seat at Yreka.  Everybody knew who had blown up the dam.  Between the trials the lawyer asked the constable if he blew up the dam.  He said no, Mr. Nuffer did that.  The lawyer turned to me and said, “Did you blow up the dam?”  I said I did.  He asked who ordered it done and I said our district president, Mr. Snider.  The lawyer turned to Mr. Snider and asked, “Did you order Mr. Nuffer to blow out the dam?”  Snider said he did.

“That was the last we heard of the case.  But the cattleman put in another dam.  In the end, we had so many lawsuits and lost so much water every time that we could not farm successfully.  I went to milking cows and raising chickens, turnkeys and pigs, and did fairly well.

“In 1936, my son, Leon, living in Los Angeles, bought two and half acres in Van Nuys with a house and some chicken equipment.  He came to Mt. Hebron where I was located and asked me to sell out and take charge of his place.  I hesitated but my wife wanted to get away from Mt. Hebron.  I sold at a loss and moved to Van Nuys.  The place had been neglected but I worked hard and made it one of the best places in the valley.  It is now December 30, 1943, and my dear wife has passed away.  We had one daughter and many sons.

Emma Nuffer Nelson

“A short time before our first child was born we went to the Logan Temple where the ceremony was performed, our previous marriage being on a civil rite.  This was on January 3, 1890.  On May 4 our first child, Emma was born.  She married George Nelson and died in January 28, 1919, when the flue was raging.  She left two girls, Lucille, 3, and Virginia, 18 months.  We raised them until they were 4 and 5 when their father married again (Anna Rinderknecht, Emma’s cousin).  Our boys were Fred Jr., Leon, Bryant, Raymond, Lloyd, Glenn, Harold and George (who died in 1914 at the age of two).