Milo Ross 1997 Interview

Interview of Milo Ross

By

Wayne Carver

08-13-1997

Tape I – A

University of Utah Veterans Commemoration in 2009

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

 

Milo:    Probably the 13th today.

 

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

(tape stopped)

 

Milo:    Should have put on there Plain City.

 

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

 

Milo:    Here’s one right here.

 

Wayne: Just to prop this –

 

Milo:    How about this?  What do you need?

 

Wayne: Just something like this.

 

Milo Ross in uniform at Fort Lewis, Washington

 

Milo: Oh

 

Wayne: Since I want –

 

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

 

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

 

Milo: Do you wanna start now?

 

Wayne: yeah.

 

Milo: My name’s Milo James Ross.

 

Wayne: And what date were you born?

 

Milo: February the 4th, 1921.

 

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

 

Milo: Born in ’21.

 

Wayne: Right, I was born in ’23?

 

Milo: ’23.

 

Wayne: Yeah. Where were you born?

 

Milo: Plain City.

 

Wayne: And who were your parents?

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne: Right, yeah.

 

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

 

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

 

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

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

 

Wayne: oh, yes, yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne: Was she married to Mark?

 

Milo: She got married to him –

 

Wayne: When the accident occurred:

 

Milo: No. not – not – just after.

 

Wayne: uh-hu.

 

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

 

Wayne: I see yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne: Yeah, vaguely.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

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

 

Wayne: With your father and mother?

 

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

 

Wayne:  With Streeter, yeah.

Milo Ross in Canada 1986

 

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

 

Wayne:  Little Paul?

 

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

 

Wayne:  I remember that, yeah.

 

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

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

 

Wayne:  Os had married Mary—

 

Milo: Mary –

 

Wayne:  –yeah.

 

Milo: — Sister to Ethel.

 

Wayne:  Mary Sharp.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Oh, I didn’t know him.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Right.

 

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

 

Wayne:  This would be in the twenties?

 

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

 

Wayne:  And you went up on that?

 

Milo:  Yes.

 

Wayne:  And –

 

Milo:  My dad?

 

Wayne:  — Harold.

 

Milo:  — Harold.

 

Wayne: And Paul.

 

Milo: And Paul.

 

Wayne:  And you went back up to Paul?

 

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

 

Wayne:  Now, he went with you?

 

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

 

Wayne:  Grandpa and Grandma –

 

Milo:  Ross.

 

Wayne:  –Ross?

 

Milo: Ross.

 

Wayne:  Okay, yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne: Virginia:

 

Milo:  Virginia.

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  But had your mom passed away by –

 

Milo:  Yes.

 

Wayne:  – – When you went back?

 

Milo: Yes.

 

Wayne:  Did she die down here?

 

Milo:  She died in the log cabin house.

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne:  Can I borrow – –

(Pause in Tape.)

 

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

 

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

 

Milo:  Yeah.

 

Wayne:  Beth and – –

 

Milo:  Yeah.

 

Wayne:  – -Dorothy and – –

 

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

 

Wayne:  Oh, the Wheeler – –

 

Milo:  Wheeler Estate.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  But I was telling you about my mother.

 

Wayne:  Yeah

 

Milo:  Go ahead and tell me what you want.

 

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

 

Milo:  But – – are you still on tape?

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Oh, yeah.

 

Milo:  And let Folkman – –

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

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

 

Wayne: Yeah.

 

Milo: Or ride a horse.

 

Wayne: Yeah, that’s four miles or so.

 

Milo: Four or five, yeah.

 

Wayne:  Four or five, yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah

 

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

 

Wayne:  Can you remember the scrip money?

 

Milo:  Yes.

 

Wayne:  I don’t think I can.

 

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

 

Wayne:  During the war.

 

Milo:  During the war – –

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Remember those tax tokens:

 

Milo:  I saved – –

 

Wayne:  Plastic – –

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah

 

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

 

Wayne:   Yeah

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  – – You know what I mean?

 

Wayne: Yeah.

 

Milo:  Hard going.

 

Wayne: Did your Dad go back with you to Paul

 

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

 

Wayne:  Uh – huh

 

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

 

Wayne:  Oh, does he?

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Is the old store building – –

 

Milo:  The old – –

 

Wayne: – – Still there?

 

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

 

Wayne:  Uh – huh.

 

Milo:  Dale Sharp took Harold.

 

Wayne:  Right.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Now, they’re in Ogden.

 

Milo:  In Ogden.

 

Wayne:  Uh – huh

 

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

 

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

 

Milo:  Right.

 

Wayne:  Did he never come back?

 

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

 

Wayne:  Uh – huh.

 

Milo: Do you understand me?

 

Wayne: Yeah

 

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

 

Wayne:  Was he overseas?

 

Milo:  I don’t know.

 

Wayne:  Good heavens, I – –

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne: Good Lord.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah

 

Milo:  Trying to make money that way.

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne:  Of course mother had divorced him then – –

 

Milo: right.

 

Wayne:  – – on grounds of desertion.

 

Milo:  desertion.

 

Wayne: Okay

 

Milo:  That’s why she married my Dad.

 

Wayne:  Right.

 

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

 

Wayne:  And June?

 

Milo:  Stayed with the Streeters.

 

Wayne:  In Ogden.

 

Milo:  Grandma Streeter.

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne:  Right.

 

Milo:  We’re half.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne:  Oh.

 

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

 

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

 

Milo:  Mark Streeter’s mother.

 

Wayne:  Oh, not with Mark?

 

Milo:  Well, Mark Streeter lived with his mother.

 

Wayne:  Oh.

 

Milo:  Do you understand it?

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne: Pub?

 

Milo: Yeah

 

Wayne:  And Cap – –

 

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

 

Wayne:  Well, Cap Christensen – –

 

Milo: Cap Christensen.

 

Wayne: A – – (Unintelligible)

 

Milo:  That was Cap, wasn’t it?

 

Wayne:  Yeah, that was Cap.

 

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

 

Wayne:  And Max.

 

Milo: Max and all them – –

 

Wayne:  Artell.

 

Milo: Artell.

 

Wayne: (Unintelligible)

 

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

 

Wayne: Oh.

 

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

 

Wayne:  I just spent an afternoon with Fern.

 

Milo:  Did you?

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  Fern Sharp?

 

Wayne:  Yeah. Shields.

 

Milo:  Yeah

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne:  I wonder what he did in those – –

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.  I wonder if anyone does.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  Weber County.

 

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

 

Milo:  Fred and Vic.

 

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

 

Milo:  Violet.  She was – –

 

Wayne: Violet.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Oh.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Uh – huh

 

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

 

Wayne:  She was.

 

Milo:  So see, there’s kind of a – –

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Good Lord.

 

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

 

Wayne: yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne: Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne: This is Os and Mary’s car.

 

Milo: Yes.

 

Wayne: Did Mary come up?

 

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

 

Wayne: Yeah, I remember him.

 

Milo: Yeah.

 

Wayne:  He was our neighbor down at Warren.

 

Milo: Yeah

 

Wayne:  Yeah

 

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

 

Wayne: Oh.

 

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

 

Wayne: Yeah

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.   Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:    How old you were then, Milo?

 

Milo:  Five years old.

 

Wayne:  Five.

 

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

 

Wayne: Oh

 

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

 

Wayne:  Could be, yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  He’s just a little boy.

 

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

 

Wayne:  A truss.

 

Milo: – – Truss or something.

 

Wayne:  A trust, yeah.

 

Milo:  But it was tough for us kids.

 

Wayne:  I’ll bet it was tough.

 

Milo:  It was tough.

 

Wayne:  You – – you were the oldest.

 

Milo:  I was the oldest, five.

 

Wayne:  Five and – –

 

Milo:  Four and three.

 

Wayne:  Harold was four – –

 

Milo:  Yeah.

 

Wayne:  No, Harold was – –

 

Milo:  Paul.

 

Wayne: Paul.

 

Milo:  And Harold.  Five, four, three.

 

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

 

Milo:  She was probably two years older than us.

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Did you ever see your dad – –

 

Milo:  Yes, sir.

 

Wayne:  – – Again:

 

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

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Were you living in Plain City?

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Was this an army hospital?

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

 

Wayne:  Oh, boy.

 

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

 

Wayne: Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  The Sharps told him?

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  – – when he said that.

 

Wayne:  Yeah, I can imagine.

 

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

 

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

 

Milo:  Paul, Idaho, all that time.

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah, I understand.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  And when – –

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  I remember that.

 

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

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Now who would – – who is he?

 

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

 

Wayne:  Oh.

 

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

 

(pause in the tape.)

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  Yeah.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Did you ever see your Ross grandparents?

 

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

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  And Hobart Day, the half-brother.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Now, Which grandparents?

 

Milo:  The Ross and the Sharps.

 

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

 

Milo:  Yeah.

 

Wayne:  And Paul.

 

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

 

Wayne:  How did you get those – – That?

 

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

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne:  Did you go up and bring them back?

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  A dozen.

 

Milo:  A dozen.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  I’d like to see that.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Milo:  Right.

 

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

 

Milo:  One Bishop.

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne:  The Bishop told them?

 

Milo:  The Bishop.

 

Wayne:  Do you know who the Bishop was?

 

Milo:  I think Thatcher.  Does that sound right?

 

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

 

Milo:  Well, I don’t know for sure.

 

Wayne:  Shurtliff, maybe.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Your mother Ross?

 

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

 

Wayne:  Of course, Sharp.

 

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

 

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

 

Milo:  Right, Milo.

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne:  Uh – huh.

 

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

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

 

Wayne:  The new one?

 

Milo:  The new one.

 

Wayne:  That’s gonna be torn down.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah, yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Not by that time.

 

Milo:  – – They were together.

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo: – – And they went farther east.

 

Wayne:  The Thomases.

 

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

 

Wayne:  But then they slowly worked back.

 

Milo:  Come back in.

 

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

 

Milo:  Right.

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne:  To the LDS?

 

Milo:  No.

 

Wayne:  Or to the Episcopalian?

 

Milo:  Episcopalian – –

 

Wayne:  Really.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  It’s kind of nice.

 

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

 

Milo:  Yes.

 

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

 

Milo:  To look at it.

 

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

 

Milo:  Uh-huh.

 

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

 

Milo:  Yes.

 

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

 

Milo:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Milo:  Uh-hu.

 

Wayne:  Did you go to that school?

 

Milo:  I didn’t.

 

Wayne:  Might not have been around when you – –

 

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

 

Wayne:  This one?

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah, yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah

 

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

 

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

 

Milo:  She wrote a lot of poetry.

 

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

 

Milo:  Non Mormons.

 

Wayne:  But Harold went to Mutual with us.

 

Milo:  We went to Mutual.

 

Wayne:  You went to Mutual.

 

Milo:  I went to Mutual.

 

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

 

Milo:  Right.  So did I later.

 

Wayne:  Do you know – –

 

(End of Tape I-A.)

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne:  Primary.

 

Milo:  Primary.

 

Wayne:  Did you go across the square – –

 

Milo:  Yes.

 

Wayne:  – – to – –

 

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

 

Wayne:  Sure.

 

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

 

Wayne:  You did?

 

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

 

Wayne:  Oh sure.  So did I.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Floyd Eyre.

 

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

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

 

Wayne:  No, I think that’s true.

 

Milo:  See, And – – But I enjoyed it.

 

Wayne:  And Ernie didn’t object to this?

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh, yeah.

 

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

Turn that off just a minute.

(Tape pauses.)

 

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

 

Wayne:  Where were you?

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

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

 

Milo:  The young girl.

 

Wayne:  Oh.  Where’s Vic all this time?

 

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

 

Wayne:  In her car.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  It spun her completely around.

 

Wayne:  Didn’t tip over.

 

Milo:  Didn’t tip over.  But I seen it.

 

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

 

Milo:  Yes.

 

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

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne:  Did the church look down on them?

 

Milo:  I don’t think so.

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  And Joe Singleton.

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

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

 

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

 

Milo:  Okay.

 

Wayne:  In Weber County.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Oh, I guess, yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Oh.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Right.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Right.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah, yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Just give you the interest.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  I told them I don’t care.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Milo:  Well – –

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

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

 

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

 

Milo:  Louise, start with Louise.

 

Wayne:  Okay.  She the oldest.

 

Milo:  Louise.

 

Wayne:  Louise.

 

Milo:  She married Ralph Blanch.

 

Wayne:  Oh, okay.

 

Milo:  Florence, married Nielson.

 

Wayne:  From Taylor?

 

Milo:  West Weber, Taylor.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  Leonard Nielson.

 

Wayne:  Did he used to pitch.

 

Milo:  Yeah.

 

Wayne:  Yeah, stiff-armed and – –

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  Then there was Ethel Sharp.

 

Wayne:  I remember Ethel.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Mutt?

Milo:  Mutt Sharp.

 

Wayne:  Okay.

 

Milo:  That’s Milo.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Josephine.

 

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

 

Wayne:  uh-huh.

 

Milo:  Then Dean Sharp, the baby.

 

Wayne:  Dean.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Oh, who was Ed’s wife.

 

Milo:  She was Lilly East.

 

Wayne: Right, okay.  From Warren.

 

Milo: From Warren.

 

Wayne:  Yeah?

 

Milo: Yeah

 

Wayne: So there were two Milos in your house.

 

Milo:  Both Milo, Milo Ross and Milo Sharp.

 

Wayne: Right.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Milo: Not that close.

 

Wayne:  Weren’t you?

 

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

 

Wayne: Uh-huh.

 

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

 

Wayne: Uh-huh.

 

Milo:  And they’d stay overnight.

 

Wayne: The old artesian wells.

 

Milo: Uh-huh.

 

Wayne: Yeah, before the dam.

 

Milo: And Jack Singleton, do you remember him?

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne: yeah.

 

Milo: So – –

 

Wayne: But body was there, huh?

 

Milo: It was down in there.

 

Wayne: Yeah.

 

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

 

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

 

Milo: Hyde.

 

Wayne:  Right.

 

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

 

Wayne: Yeah.

 

Milo:  – – I’m sure glad – –

 

Wayne: How old were you?

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  No. Lord.

 

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

 

Wayne:  No.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Right.

 

Milo:  Now he wasn’t a Mormon.

 

Wayne: Well, he was dead.

 

Milo:  He was dead.

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne: Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  No.

 

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

 

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

 

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

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

 

Wayne:  Right.

 

Milo:  – – I was – –

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne:  Oh, did he?

 

Milo:  They tell me.

 

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

 

Milo:  Warren, something like that.

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne:  Really?

 

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

 

Wayne:  Ed did?

 

Milo:  No. Morton Salt or somebody – –

 

Wayne:  Oh, yeah, yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Now, did Ed own this operation.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Who’s Ray.

 

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

 

Wayne:  He never lived in Plain City?

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  uh – huh.

 

Milo:  – – without using horses.

 

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

 

Milo:  We bagged a lot of it.

 

Wayne:  Did you?

 

Milo:  100-pound bags.

 

Wayne:  And you worked out there.

 

Milo:  Oh, I had to work out there.

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

Milo:  They had a pond – –

 

Wayne:  Did all the other kids?

 

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

 

Wayne:  He went over on the Lucin cutoff?

 

Milo:  Yeah.

 

Wayne:  How far is that”

 

Milo:  That would be about 75 miles – –

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Little Eddie, huh?

 

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

 

Wayne:  Right.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Oh.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Did you stay out – –

 

Milo:  We stated out there.

 

Wayne:  – – overnight:

 

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

 

Wayne:  Right.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

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

 

Milo:  Scooped, everything was scooped.

 

Wayne:  uh-huh.

 

Milo:  No tractor.

 

Wayne:  No.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Why?  Why nighttime?

 

Milo:  Cool.

 

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

 

Milo:  Just in the winter.

 

Wayne:  Just in the winter.

 

Milo:  Uh-huh.  Through the winter months.

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

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

 

Wayne:  That’s when they make the salt?

 

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

 

Wayne:  So the winter’s the harvest.

 

Milo:  The harvest.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah, I’ll say.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  – – Boy.

 

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

 

Milo:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Milo:  Yeah.

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne:  Oh.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Oh, okay.

 

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

 

Wayne:  I remember that.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Just across the creek from uncle Earl – –

 

Milo:  – – Potatoes and stuff.

 

Wayne:  – – Hadley’s.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne:  I remember that.

 

Milo:  And it went right – –

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Right.

 

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

 

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

 

Milo:  No – –

 

Wayne:  (Unintelligible)

 

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

 

Wayne:  Just down to Olsen’s or Maw’s?

 

Milo:  Maw’s Store.

 

Wayne: uh-hu.

 

Milo: And we seen that twister coming.

 

Wayne:  Oh, you – – oh.

 

Milo:  You could hear it.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah, you bet.

 

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

 

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

 

Milo:  Well, we was watching it.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  That’s right.

 

Milo:  We could see the horses.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Right.

 

Milo:  World War Two.

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne:  They were in Italy?

 

Milo:  In Italy.

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne:  Oh, I thought he was in Navy.

 

Milo:  I don’t know.

 

Wayne:  Leon?

 

Milo:  They were all close together at that time.

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

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

 

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

 

Milo:  Yeah, grandson.

 

Wayne:  Grandson.

 

Milo:  But he could tell you.

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne:  Right.

 

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

 

Wayne:  When did you go in?

 

Milo and Gladys Ross, 30 May 1942

 

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

 

Wayne:  Howard went with you?

 

Milo:  No.  No, they come in later.

 

Wayne:  Oh.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Who was with you, remember?

 

Milo:  Ellis Lund.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Milo:  Examination.

 

Wayne:  – – Uniform and – –

 

Milo:  Yeah, they hurried me right through.

 

Wayne:  Why?

 

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

 

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

 

Milo:  Yeah.

 

Wayne:  That’s where Norm and Paul – –

 

Milo:  They came there, yeah.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Milo:  Well – –

 

Wayne:  – – Get hijacked in Salt Lake?

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Has that army general intelligence (unintelligible)

 

Milo:  Intelligence stuff.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  This is at Fort Douglas?

 

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

 

Wayne:  Fort Lewis, Washington.

 

Milo:  Fort Lewis, Washington.

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

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

 

Wayne:  What kind of outfit were you in?

 

Milo:  That was with the 33rd division.

 

Wayne:  In an infantry – –

 

Milo:  National Guard.  Illinois National Guard.

 

Wayne:  Oh, okay.

 

Milo:  33rd, Golden Cross.

 

Wayne:  Okay.  Is that you?

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah, you are.

 

Milo:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Milo:  But.

 

Wayne:  tell me about your war.

 

Milo:  We was – –

 

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

 

Milo:  Okay.

 

Gladys:  (Unintelligible)

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  Fort Douglas – – Fort Lewis.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

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

 

Milo:  I done it.

 

Wayne:  Sure.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Right.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Right.

 

Milo:  – – Distance.

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Wow.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Oh, a staff – –

 

Milo:  Yeah, a staff sergeant.

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

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

 

Wayne:  And that’s the tech.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

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

 

Wayne:  You went back to Barstow?

 

Milo:  Barstow.

 

Wayne:  Your outfit was – –

 

Milo:  Barstow.

 

Wayne:  – – Still there.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  When had you got married?

 

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

 

Wayne:  Just before you went in?

 

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

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.  Who did you marry?

 

Milo:  Gladys Donaldson.

 

Wayne:  From Ogden?

 

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

 

Wayne: Right.

 

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

 

Wayne: Yeah.

 

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

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

 

Wayne:  And this was in New Guinea.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  But little things like this happens.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  What port were you at?

 

Milo:  Finch Haven.

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Oh.

 

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

 

Wayne: Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  And Then – –

 

Wayne:  They had captured two native girls?

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  So he asked us to shoot them.

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  uh-huh.

 

Milo:  But see – –

 

Wayne:  You probably broke an article of war.

 

Milo:  We broke an article of war – –

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

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

 

Milo:  We were in combat.

 

Wayne: Were you?

 

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

 

Wayne:  It’s a combat zone.

 

Milo:  It’s a combat zone.

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  You understand?  At all times.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

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

 

Milo:  33rd Division.

 

Wayne:  – – Division National Guard from Illinois.

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Oh, the oil drums.

 

Milo: Yeah.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo: We saved all these drums and stuff.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  But, you know, I didn’t go.

 

Wayne:  You weren’t getting paid?

 

Milo:  Army?

 

Wayne: Uh-huh.

 

Milo:  Oh, yeah, they paid.

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne:  There were 12 of you in the – –

 

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

 

Wayne:  In one p.t. boat?

 

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

 

Wayne:  Two.

 

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

(Tape I-B ends.  Tape II-A Begins.)

 

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

 

Milo: Number three.

 

Wayne:  What?

 

Milo:  One, two, three.

 

Wayne:  One, two – – third side.

 

Milo: third side.

 

Wayne: Tape two.

 

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

 

Wayne: Yeah.

 

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

 

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

 

Milo:  Native village on Morotai.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo: Dutch East Indies.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.  Was it Japanese money?

 

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

 

Wayne:  Dutch?

 

Milo: Dutch East Indies.

 

Wayne:  Paper money.

 

Milo:  Paper money.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

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

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne: But you didn’t find any.

 

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

 

Wayne: You wanted (unintelligible).

 

Milo: Around us.

 

Wayne: Okay.

 

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

 

Wayne: Right, you’re just spotting target.

 

Milo: Just spot – – spot target.

 

Wayne: Yeah, okay.

 

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

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

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

 

Wayne: Yeah.

 

Milo:  And we stayed – –

 

Wayne:  What Christmas would this be?

 

Milo:  Oh – –

 

Wayne:  ’42, ’43?

Milo: Let’s see, ’43, ’44.

 

Wayne:  ’44.

 

Milo:  ’44.

 

Wayne: Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne: Yeah.

 

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

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  I’m not sure – –

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne: Yeah.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne: I don’t know.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Oh, did you?

 

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

 

Wayne: Was that just by chance?

 

Milo:  By chance.

 

Wayne:  No kidding?

 

Milo: But he knew we was coming in.

 

Wayne: Oh.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne: Yeah.

 

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

 

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

 

Milo:  Well, we have radios.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne: Oh.

 

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

 

Wayne: Oh.

 

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

 

Wayne: Milo, I gotta use your – –

 

(Pause in tape)

 

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

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

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

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

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

 

Wayne:  This is 1945?

 

Milo:  ’45.

 

Wayne:  yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Where was the second hit?

 

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

 

Wayne:  In the back.

 

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

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

 

Milo J Ross

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

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

 

Milo:  Just shrapnel wounds.

 

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

 

Milo: Flesh wounds.

 

Wayne: Didn’t shatter any bones or – –

 

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

 

Wayne:  uh-huh.

 

Milo: – – you know, just – –

 

Wayne:  yeah.

 

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

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

 

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

 

Milo: Yeah.

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  The Japanese are above you on the hill?

 

Milo:  They was on the – –

 

Wayne:  Dug in?

 

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

 

Wayne:  Oh.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

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

 

Wayne: (Unintelligible )

 

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

 

Wayne:  Good grief.

 

Milo:  And went right on down.

 

Wayne :  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne: Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  He was your company commander?

 

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

 

Wayne:  And you got one.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Is the war over by now?

 

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

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

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

 

Wayne:  Wow.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Right

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  Right on down through,  you know  – –

 

Wayne:  Not many tech sergeants get that privilege.

 

Milo:  That’s really a privilege.

 

Wayne :  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Can I look at those pictures?

 

Milo:  You bet.

 

(Pause in tape)

 

Milo:  Sorry I took so much of your time.

 

(Pause in tape)

 

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

 

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

 

Milo:  Good Conduct Medal.

 

Wayne:  The Silver Star.

 

Milo:  Silver Star for gallantry in action.

 

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

 

Milo:  Medal of Honor.

 

Wayne:  The Medal of Honor.

 

Milo:  Uh-huh.

 

Wayne:  Right. And the Purple Heart.

 

Milo:  Purple Heart.

 

Wayne:  And the good – –

 

Milo:  World War II.

 

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

 

Milo:  Combat Infantry.

 

Wayne:  Combat Infantry badge.

 

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

 

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

 

Milo:  Service points.

 

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

 

Milo:  I don’t remember.

 

Wayne:  Six months.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Two battle stars.

 

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

 

Wayne :  Uh-huh.

 

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

 

Wayne:  The two battle stars are for the Philippines.

 

Milo:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Milo:  New Guinea.

 

Wayne:  Right.  What is this?

 

Milo: That’s the expert.

 

Wayne:  Oh.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah J.

 

Milo:  Honored me and Captain Kelly.

 

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

 

Milo:  I wanted to get out at that time.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.  While you were still whole.

 

Milo:  I’ll show you the plaque.

 

(Pause in tape)

 

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

 

Wayne:   Oh.

 

Milo: – – After his dad.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.  Is that his Eagle Scout?

 

Milo:  He’s an Eagle Scout.

 

Wayne:  Right.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Where does Milo live?

 

Milo:  Paul, Idaho.

 

Wayne:  Oh.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Paul Ross.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Well.

 

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

 

Wayne:  To USU

 

Milo:  Yeah, up to Logan.

 

Wayne:  Right. What did he do?

 

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

 

Wayne:  Presidential.

 

Milo:  $24,000.

 

Wayne:  For $24,828.

 

Milo:  Uh-huh.

 

Wayne:  USU Drafting and Music.

 

Milo:  Uh-huh.

 

Wayne:  $1,500.

 

Milo:  Uh-huh.

 

Wayne:  USU Academic honors, $250.

 

Milo:  Uh-huh.

 

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

 

Milo: Yeah.

 

Wayne:  That’s quite a list.

 

Milo:  Well – –

 

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

 

Milo:  From high school.

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

Milo:  But other than that  – –

 

Wayne:  Is he up there now?

 

Milo:  He’s going this fall.

 

Wayne:  He’ll be a freshman?

 

Milo:  (unintelligible )

 

Wayne:  Oh, this has just happened then?

 

Milo:  Just happened.

 

Wayne:  Oh, yeah, this is June 4th.

 

Milo:  Yeah.

 

Wayne:  1997.

 

Milo:  He’s a brilliant boy.

 

Wayne:  Minidoka  County.

 

Milo:  Yeah, he’s been – –

 

Wayne:  Rupert, Idaho.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Oh.

 

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

 

Wayne:  Huh.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Milo:  He didn’t go to college.

 

Wayne:  He went to Weber High?

 

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

 

Wayne :  No, I haven’t been around.

 

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

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

 

Wayne:  Oh, boy.

 

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

 

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

 

Milo:  Clipping.

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne:  Oh, my heavens.

 

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

Wayne: Yeah.

 

Milo: She was my leading girl.

 

Wayne: Right, I remember that play.

 

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

 

Wayne: Yeah

 

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

 

Wayne:  Plain City Junior High School  – –

 

Milo:  ‘36

 

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

 

Milo:  1936, Yeah.  But I kept that.

 

Wayne:  Rex McEntire.

 

Milo:  Uh-huh.

 

Wayne:  Keith Hodson.

 

Milo:  Uh-huh.

 

Wayne:  Ray Charlton.

 

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

 

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

 

Milo:  Charlton.

 

Wayne:  Oh, Ray Charlton.

 

Milo:  Ray Charlton.

 

Wayne:  Middle row Dorothy Richardson.

 

Milo:  Dorothy Richardson.

 

Wayne:  Right.  June Wayment.

 

Milo:  June Wayment.

 

Wayne:  Larne Thompson.

 

Milo:  Uh-huh.

 

Wayne:  Margarite Maw.

 

Milo:  Uh-huh.

 

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

 

Milo:  Right.

 

Wayne:  Right.

 

Milo:  Yeah.

 

Wayne:  Milo Ross

 

Milo:  Yeah.

 

Wayne:  And teacher, Ernst Rauzi.

 

Milo:  Yeah.

 

Wayne:  Who taught us shop, didn’t he?

 

Milo:  Yeah.

 

Wayne:  Oh, that’s something.

 

Milo:  Isn’t that?

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne: Yeah.

 

Milo:  Then this here one picture here that – –

 

Wayne:  Plain City Clubbers Show ability.

 

Milo:  That’s baseball.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Wayne:  No.  Are you in there?

 

Milo:  Yes, sir. Yeah.

 

Wayne:  Yeah, there’s Elmer.

 

Milo:  Yeah.

 

Wayne:  That Freddy?

 

Milo:  Yeah, that’s old Fred.

 

Wayne:  Glen.

 

Milo:  Glen.

 

Wayne:  Norm.

 

Milo: Yeah.

 

Wayne:  My brother.

 

Milo:  Frankie Skeen.

 

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

 

Milo:  Claire Folkman.  Dick – –

 

Wayne:  Dick Skeen, Albert Sharp – –

 

Milo:  Albert Sharp.

 

Wayne:  Abe Maw.

 

Milo:  Yeah.   Milo Ross.

 

Wayne:  Is that you?

 

Milo:  Yeah, that’s Milo.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  Hang onto that there.

 

(Telephone rings.)

 

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

 

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

 

Milo:  Yeah.

 

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

 

Milo:  We got placed second.

 

Wayne: Yeah.

 

Milo:  Denver and Rio Grand got first.

 

Wayne:  Really?

 

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

 

Wayne:  Oh, of Luzon.

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne: Oh you’re taking the picture.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Wayne:  Were they all – – were they in the hospital?

 

Milo:  They came to see me.

 

Wayne:  Oh,  they came to see you.

 

Milo:  They – – they –  on these radios, you have communication back and forth.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  In the war.   And here’s our Japanese flag we took.

 

Wayne: Yeah.

 

Milo:  I that have there.  Here’s  – – I have a Silver Star, a citation.   Here’s Captain Kelly and Milo Ross here.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

2004

 

Milo:  Here’s Presidential Unit Citation.   I – –

 

Wayne:  Company  C., 18th infantry regiment – –

 

Milo:  one hundred thirty  – –

 

Wayne:  – – of the 33rd – –

 

Milo: Division.

 

Wayne:  – – Division.

 

Milo:  Uh-huh.

 

Wayne:  Right.

 

Milo: Yeah.

 

Wayne: Okay.

 

Milo:  This here’s  the 33rd division.   Here’s the copy of it, that over there.  Now, I have a – – oh, here’s a picture where we were at in New Guinea and different places like this.  But everything that I  – – the ships and that I was on, I kept a record of everything that I rode on.

 

Wayne:  Well, yeah.

 

Milo:  Can you see it?

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

Milo:  I even have the dates and everything that I kept them on.  I kept – – I kept it in my helmet so it wouldn’t get destroyed.   Isn’t that amazing?

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  But I got more time on the shop than a lot of Navy boys have got.  And then I got the battles that you was in here, see?  Different places here.   Here’s the 33rd division strikes gold, see, recovers a half million dollars plot – –

 

Wayne:  Oh.

 

Milo:  – – Uncovered.

 

Wayne:  This is a – –

 

Milo:  That’s what – –

 

Wayne:  – – Newspaper, your division newspaper.

 

Milo:  Yeah.  See I was telling you about this one here.  But see, I have the certificates, the mortars, and machine guns, and everything.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  These are all nice.  But I – – I kind of kept a record of all of it.  These here are little clippings like these here.  Sergeant Ross leads an attack and all that, you know, and – –

 

Wayne: Yeah.

 

Milo:  I have them all together.

 

Wayne:  Is it – – what paper is this from?

 

Milo:  That’s standard.

 

Wayne:  Oh, Uh-huh.

 

Milo:  But I got a – – I got lot of copies of it.  I’m trying to put a bunch of them together.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  I was wondering if I could find that one down to – – here’s Morotai right here.   That was September the 16th, ’42.  I told you ’44.

 

Wayne:  Was when you were in Morotai?

 

Milo:  Uh-huh.  Let’s see, let’s see what I wrote on here.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  This is ’44, in December 1944 in Morotai, that – – I was right when I told you before.

 

Wayne: Oh,  this is from the time  – –

 

Milo:  Yeah.

 

Wayne:  – – this was when you went in the service.

 

Milo:  Right.

 

Wayne:  September 16, 1942.

 

Milo:  Yeah.

 

Wayne:  And you were discharged September 30th, 1945.

 

Discharge Certificate

 

Milo: Right.

 

Wayne: Almost three full years.

 

Milo:  Three years.  And then December ’44, see, we was in a battle down in Dutch East Indies,  Morotai, our first combat,  see, out here.  That’s Christmas Eve,  see, right here?   Under combat fire, February the 14th.  First enemy fire in Rosario, Luzon.   The last of February,  202.  See, we was on a lot of hills.

 

Wayne:  Hill 18 – –

 

Milo:  – – Yeah.

 

Wayne:  – – 02.

 

Milo:  1802, near Rosario.  Near Arringay, Luzon.  And then middle of March, Ballang City.  Last of March through April, May, Hill X, with seven unsuccessful attempts,  they had tried taking that hill before us – –

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

Milo:  – – the army, our army, they asked company C., our company , to take it, after what did I say, seven?

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  So they tried to take that hill seven times.  We went up and we took it ourselves with the company.   We had a high casualty rate, about 44 percent if I remember, it’s on one of these here clippings here that says it.  This Presidential Unit Citation probably tells me.  And we was on Hill X.  And then we went back up on top.

 

Wayne:  But you took Hill X.  By going up – –

 

Milo:  Walking right up after them.

 

Wayne:  Well, I thought  – – weren’t you brought down from Hill X.  Then you regrouped and came up where the artillery – –

 

Milo:  We go up to Hill X first.  We take Hill X and hold it and dug in.  And then after we dug in, they took us out, back to camp area, they take us back up over here and come up on Bilbil Mountain.

 

Wayne:  Okay.   I had.

 

Milo:  Right next to it.

 

Wayne: Okay.   You – – so you took Hill X.  Before Bilbil Island.

 

Milo:  Yeah.

 

Wayne:  Okay.

 

Milo:  I’ll give you some clippings, if you’ll give me your name and address, I’ll send you copies of them.

 

Wayne:  I will. I’ll be glad to have them.

 

Milo:  Look, here’s the Presidential Unit Citation.  They’re just clipped on kind of easy.  These are cute.  This is my wife here.  Here’s one right here.  His platoon received the mission to protect from the left flank along this – – also to push forward and capture a section of the hill.

 

(Tape II-A.  Ends.  Tape II-B begins.)

Wayne:  His platoon received the mission of protecting the left Flank of the company’s assaults, and was also to push forward and capture a section of the hill.  The Japs’ positions were peppered with heavy barrages of artillery and mortar fire before the attack.  The unit started the attack with Sergeant Ross leading his platoon.  After reaching half of the – – just half the distance, the infantrymen were stopped by Japan fire consisting of knee mortars, rifles, and machine guns.  During rest of the day, the two groups slugged back and forth at each other with their arms.  During the night, the Japs launched an attack against the 130th perimeter, but were driven off.  Sergeant Ross’s machine guns and mortars played an important role in stopping the enemies attack.  The following date the Doughboys slowly started – –

 

Milo:  To gain.

 

Wayne:  Oh,  to gain yards until by late afternoon they had pushed to the top and captured the positions, killing a large number of Japs.  Sergeant Ross’s platoon captured it’s objective before any other of the other units were able to secure theirs.  Sergeant Ross has been in the services for nearly three years – –

 

Milo:  Two.

 

Wayne:  – – Two of which have been spent in the Pacific area.  Prior to participating in the Philippines liberation campaign, he battled the Japs in Netherland East Indies in the second battle of – –

 

Milo: Morotai.

 

Wayne:  – – Morotai.   Who wrote this?

 

Milo:  These come from – #

 

Wayne:  You don’t know what that’s from?

 

Milo:  I don’t know, but I’ll give you a copy.

 

Wayne:  That apparently is a news account.

 

Milo:  Yeah.  Here’s a Presidential Unit Citation.  Can you read this one right here?  Do you wanna read that?

 

Wayne:  I would like it on the tape, yeah.

 

Milo:  Okay.

 

Wayne:  Is that the same as this?

 

Milo:  Same as that.  Turn it over by your light there.

 

Wayne:  Huh?

 

Milo:  Turn it over by your light.  Maybe you see it better, can you?

 

Wayne:  Unit Citation,  5 July, 1945, Headquarters 33rd Infantry Division,  A.P.O. 33, General Orders Number 159.  Under the provisions of Section 4, Circular Number 333, War Department, 22 December, 1943, the following unit is cited by the Commanding General of the 33rd infantry division: Company C., 130th Infantry Regiment, is cited for outstanding performance of duty in armed conflict with the enemy.  Bilbil Mountain of Province Luzon – –

 

Milo:  Come in.

 

Wayne:  – – Philippine Islands  – –

 

Milo:  Come in.

 

Wayne:  – – An extremely rugged forest covered – -, key defensive positions was occupied by a company of Japs reinforced with heavy machine guns, section – – 90-millimeter mortar section and two sections, two guns of 75-millimeter howitzers.  This commanding ground afforded excellent observation and enable the enemy to maneuver it’s forces and supporting- – weapons to advantageous positions,  to successfully – – to success – -I can’t read – –

 

Milo:  To seize.

 

Wayne:  To success – –

 

Milo:  Oh – –

 

Wayne:  To success – –

 

Milo:  Important – -oh, two previous unsuccessful – –

 

Wayne:  To successfully repel seven previous attempts – –

 

Milo:  They’d been tried taking it seven times before.

 

Wayne:  All right.   To seize Hill X.

 

Milo:  But we took it in the first time up.

 

Wayne:  The strategically important know on the southeastern slope of Bilbil Mountain.   Hill X.  Was honeycombed with prepared positions from which the enemy observed and harassed our movements along the Galiano-Baguio road.  That’s B-a-g-u-i-o.

 

Milo:  Baguio.

 

Wayne:  Baguio,  the Galiano – Baguio – –

 

Milo:  Galiano.

 

Wayne:  Galiano-Baguio road.

 

Milo:  Baguio road.

 

Wayne:  On Ap- – on 12 April 1945, company C. Under the sweltering sun laboriously climbed steep mountain trail which followed the crest of an extremely narrow hogback ridge, which except for shot – –

 

Milo:  Cogon Grass.

 

Wayne: – -Cogon Grass and sparse bamboo growth was devoid of cover, and pushed to within 400 yards of the crest of Hill X.  When they were met by heavy barrage of 90-mortimer – -millimeter mortar fire which enveloped the entire ridge.  From the simultaneously intense enemy machine gun and rifle fire emanating from the many camouflaged spiders holes and caves astride the trail,  evac- – inflicted many casualties forcing the company to dig in.  A reconnaissance revealed no other route to the objective, so the company evacuated it’s casualties and aggressively pressed against this seemingly impenetrable fortress throughout the day making the enemy – –

 

Milo:  Disclose.

 

Wayne:  – – Disclose its strong points.   On 13 April 1945, despite the fact that the constant watchfulness against the night infiltration  – –

 

Milo:  You lost a line – –

 

Wayne:  No, I skipped a line, didn’t I?

Milo:  On April first – –

 

Wayne:  It’s my glasses.  On 13 April 1945, despite the fact that the men weary from the strenuous climb, the fierce fighting and constant watchfulness against night infiltration, the company launched a dawn attack.  Undaunted by the intense fire which inflicted five casualties to the leading elements, the gallant fighting men of company C. Imbued with an indomitable fighting spirit swiftly worked their way up, up – – way up the knife – like ridge,  and in the fiercest kind of close-in fighting wiped out six Jap machine gun nests in succession, killing the defending Japs in their hole.  The enemy fanatically contested with intense fire every foot of the way to the summit, but undismayed,  company C. Seized Hill X. And dug in tenaciously holding on despite continuous harassing fire delivered from the dominating positions on the Bilbil Mountain.

That night the Japs counter-attacked another company sent to assist in the attack on Bilbil Mountain, on 14 April 1945, succeeded in reaching the summit only to be driven off by the fierce Jap counter-attack.  The full fury and power of the Japs was again turned on company C.  Which alone held its, position, successfully repulsion gallery the severe and determined counter-attacks.  The tired fighting men of company C.  Exhibiting unwavering fighting spirit despite nearly 50 percent casualties, tenaciously held Hill X.  For five days until reinforcements were available to continue the attack and annihilate the enemy.

 

Milo:  That’s right,  but I’ll give you a copy of these.

 

Wayne: Yeah, that would be great.

 

Milo:  I’ll fix you up something.

 

Wayne:  Yeah, they’re kind of hard to take off the tape and – –

 

Milo:  Yeah.

 

Wayne:  – – Get accurate.

 

Milo:  But I’ll  – – I’ll give you a copy of it.

 

Wayne:  Hi.

 

A Voice:  Hello, how are you?

 

Milo:  This is Dick Skeen’s boy.

 

A Voice:  (unintelligible)

Wayne:  How did you do?

 

A Voice:  Cody (Unintelligible)

 

Wayne: Cody – –

 

A Voice: (unintelligible)

 

Wayne:  Across the street?

 

A Voice:  Uh-huh.

 

Wayne: Oh.

 

Milo:  Yeah.

 

Wayne:  Trying to do an audio on visual stuff.  We should have a video.

 

Milo:  They told about the Philippine Islands people would give you a ribbon, liberation ribbon.

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

Milo:  So I wrote to the Philippine people, that I really appreciated them, one thing and another, see.

 

Wayne: Yeah.

 

Milo:  Then I thought, well, I’ll just tell something about the people.  So I told about the people carrying the water and the stuff up on their heads and that.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  And I said, I don’t know whether the Army’s ever told you this or not, but I wanna thank you personally.  I never had guts enough to get out of my foxhole, do you understand it?

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  To help you carry that stuff up the hill.  But the women and the men and the girls that carried the ammunition and water up to us, I’d like at this time to thank you people from the Philippine Islands for helping us while we were in the war to save your country.

 

Wayne:  That was mighty – – mighty thoughtful of you Milo.

 

Milo:  Well, I wrote a letter and I sent it to the Philippine people and I kept this copy.

 

Wayne:  Right, did you get any response?

 

Milo:  Not yet.  You don’t get much back.

 

Wayne:  Probably not.  I’m sure it was delivered.

 

Milo: Yeah.

 

Wayne: Yeah.

 

Milo: Now, is there anything else?  But I will, while you’re still on your tape, I will give you a copy of my Presidential Unit Citation.  I’ll give you a picture of myself.

 

Wayne: Right.  And if you’re gonna make, you know, I could go into Kinko’s and get copies made in a hurry.

 

Milo:  Well – –

 

Wayne:  If you wanted to trust me with any of this stuff.

 

Milo:  I’d  – –

 

Wayne:  But you – –

 

Milo:  Let me get them all together for you.

 

Wayne:  – – Maybe rather have them – – I’d like a copy of that, if you wouldn’t mind my having one.

 

Milo:  Well, it’s not too good a writing.

 

Wayne:  Well, wasn’t gonna grade it.

 

Milo:  Well, professor  – –

 

Wayne: It’s not a theme.  But there’s nor many soldiers that wrote letters like that – –

 

Milo:  See I – –

 

Wayne:  – – 40 years after the fact.

 

Milo:  But the idea of it is, the idea of it is, see, I did write to the people.

 

Wayne:  Right.

 

Milo:  And thank them for it.

 

Wayne: Yeah.

 

Milo:  And I – – I – –  where  is Gladys?  But I did  write to the Filipino people, look, I wrote this here April 7, 1994.  Can you see it?

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  Dear Philippine people and the government,  do you understand it?

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo: Thanks for not forgetting and out the war, do you understand that?

 

Wayne:  Right.

 

Milo:  Then I put down Milo Ross and my number and everything like that.  Filipino.  But it’s your country, not my country.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.  Have you ever been back?

 

Milo:  No.

 

Wayne:  Yeah, that’s a very, very thoughtful letter, indeed.

 

Milo:  Well, I wanted to write to the people.

 

Wayne:  That’s – –

 

Milo:  That’s my little Milo.  This is Mr with the horses.   You remember that?

 

Wayne:  This is the guy I knew.

 

Milo:  That’s many years ago, Wayne.

 

Wayne:  You haven’t got one of you in your baseball uniform?

 

Milo:  Yes, sir, that’s the only one down here.

 

Wayne: I was probably the score keeper for that team.

 

Milo:  You was the scorekeeper – –

 

Wayne: Yeah.

 

Milo: – – Wayne, you was the scorekeeper.  They called you the bat boy.

 

Wayne:  Right.  In English.

 

Milo:  English.

 

Wayne:  I called Ted Christensen and I said I – – it’s a long time ago, and he said, I remember you, English.

 

Milo:  But I – –

 

Wayne: – – I’ll never live it down.

 

Milo:  If you will get – – give me your name and address and that and I – – I will get you – – I’ll put you a bunch of stuff together.

 

Wayne:  Good, I’d like that.  Yeah.  Are you gonna have to stop for dinner?

 

Milo:  Beg pardon?

 

Wayne:  Are you gonna have to stop for dinner?

 

Milo:  No.  You just tell me what you wanna do and I’ll – –

 

Wayne: Okay,.  Well, I’d like to cut back from Army.  You came home in – – from the Army in – –

 

Milo:  ’45.

 

Wayne:  In ’45. In what, July – – what did it say?

 

Milo:  I came home in September.

 

Wayne: September of ’45?

 

Milo:  Yeah, August.

 

Wayne:  Right.  Let’s go back a little bit to – – we’ll have to be a little  – –

 

Milo:  He’s on time because he’s gotta fly out.

 

(Conversation in background.)

 

Milo:  Here, you go here.  Do you want that (unintelligible)

 

Wayne:  Well, it might be a little better.

 

Milo:  Why don’t you sit over here?

 

A Voice:  Nice to meet you.

 

Wayne:  Nice to meet you

 

A Voice:  See you later. (Unintelligible)

 

Milo: Wayne and them used to live where the homes and that’s in here.

 

A Voice:  Over here?

 

Milo:  Carver.

 

Wayne: We lived in the house where Lorin – –

 

A Voice:  Oh,  okay .

 

Wayne:  – –  And Carolyn lived.  That’s the old – –

 

Milo:  He’s a professor back in Minnesota.

 

Wayne:  Minnesota.

 

Milo:  He’s taking, putting a little stuff together.

 

Wayne:  I’m interviewing all the old people.

 

A Voice:  All the old people, huh?  Well, this guy sure is interesting, so I’m sure – –

 

Wayne:  Yeah, he is.

 

A Voice:  – – (unintelligible) lot of information.

 

Wayne:  Fascinating, yeah.

 

A Voice:  Well, I’ll let you go.

 

Milo:  Gladys, it’s 6:00 o’clock.  Are you gonna feed Judy?

 

Gladys:  She’s been fed (unintelligible).

 

Milo:  Okay.  We got a little bit more.

 

Gladys:  Did you get my dishes done?

 

Milo:  Did you get them dishes done, she says?  Did you want (unintelligible)

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo: I’m gonna tell you – – can you hear me now?

 

Wayne:  I can hear you.  I’ll stop in a minute to see if we’re – –

 

Milo:  See if you pick it up.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  Then I’ll wanna tell you you two things more.

 

Wayne:  Okay.

 

Milo:  Tell me when you’re ready.

 

Wayne:  Go ahead.

 

Milo:  I wrote to the Philippine people in ’94 and thanked them for the help that they give us on Hill X.  The time we were there, we could not leave.  You understand me?

 

Wayne:  Right.

 

Milo:  We were pinned down.  And when you’re pinned down, the only place you go is crawling.  And these natives would bring that water, ammunition up to us, get to a certain place, they’d drop it off and run back.  I never seen an Army man jump up to help any of them bring it up, you understand me?

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

Milo:  I didn’t either.  But maybe we all should have went and helped them, I don’t know.

 

Wayne:  You’d have got shot.

 

Milo:  You understand what I’m trying to say?

 

Wayne:  Sure.

 

Milo:   But I thought, wonder if anybody ever thanked those people for doing it for us.  Because we couldn’t have stood there.  We wouldn’t have – – we wouldn’t have stayed there.  So I wrote that letter to them and thanked those people, to let the people know that their help to carry that ammunition up.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  Sunday we was up to church services up to the Dee Hospital.  I’ve been going up there for six years.  I go up there and I help them pass the Sacrament, bless people, or anything like that in the hospital that wants to be blessed or have Sacrament or anything like that for six years.  This two Sundays ago a Japanese girl came from Tokyo.  Sister Sparrow introduced her to me.  And while I was sitting there, I got thinking, I wonder if that young girl would be a relative of – – to the soldier, Japanese, that I took prisoner of war outside of Baguio.  So it all run through my mind and finally I think, oh, gee, I’ll write a little letter to her.  I made an appointment to meet them next Sunday at the hospital,  so they came back next Sunday to the hospital, and I wrote this here little letter there and I told her, I says, you don’t know me, I don’t know you, but I said, during the war, outside of Baguio City, I give a Japanese a soldier to live his life.  I took him a prisoner of war.  I did not get his name, didn’t get his address, didn’t do anything like that.  But I said, I took him prisoner of war late in the afternoon, dark, and I says, I told him to tell his buddies to come up the next morning out of the cave.  There’s 25 or 30 more of them in there.  Come up with a white flag in the morning, up the trail with their white flag and surrender, because you’re done.  You’re gonna be blowed up if you don’t come out.  So he took back with me up the hill, and I never bothered me a bit taking him back as a prison of war.  I was down there alone.

I get back up to our foxholes and I told, I was on radio, I had my radio, I told them what we was doing, they was, watching me.  I get back up on the hill where we were at, dug in, one thing and another, and they have somebody there to take this man prisoner of war.  So before they take him prisoners of war, I shared a candy bar with him.  I give him a candy bar and shook his hand.  And says, good luck, I’m glad you came up the way you did.  And I says, your friends will probably meet you tomorrow someplace else.

I never thought anything more about it until I was to church after all these years.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  Fifty-two,  three years.  You understand it?

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  And I see this Japanese girl, and I think, wonder if she could have a grandpa that I saved his life.  Wouldn’t that be something if that young girl goes, back to Tokyo and maybe it’s her grandpa or somebody in her family that I took a prisoner of war.  And I give her my name and address and I told her about what had happened.  I says, when you go back home, you see in your family or relatives, and around if they know some man that was taken prisoner of war outside of Baguio City, and if he did, I’m Milo Ross.  And I’d sure like to write to him.  And if he’s still alive, I’d even pay his way over here.  You know what I mean?

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  I would.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  I – – But you get attached to this.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  And it’s in your heart.  Now, lot of guys say, how – – how can you do things like this and do that?  You don’t do it.  You’re a trained.  Day in day out, day in and day out.  The guys that trained and stayed trained is the guys that come back home.  The guys that was lazy, they didn’t make it too good.  It was hard for them.  But the guys that stayed alert physical  – – there was five tech sergeants, first sergeant,  second, third, fourth sergeant,  and the master sergeant,  the company.   Five of us.  Trained together.   Five of us sergeants came home on the same bus ticket – – boat together.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  Isn’t that amazing?

 

Wayne:  Yeah,  it is.

 

Milo:  Five of us.  And it just shows you, you can do ‘er.  And see then, I didn’t get to see my son until he was three years old.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:   I was gone for three years old.  But I have a wonderful wife that sent me letters, encouraged me.

 

Wayne:  It’s amazing, you know, how much the war has stayed with you, though.

 

Milo:  Nobody knows, though.  If you told somebody you used your helmet to mess in, do you think they’d believe you?

 

Wayne:  Well, I would.

 

Milo:  See, you have to.

 

Wayne:  Yeah, because I did.

 

Milo:  You had to.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  You had to.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo: And people don’t realize.

 

Wayne:  But there are a lot of guys from world war two, you know, I think they – – were able to cut it right off.

 

Milo:  Forget it.

 

Wayne:  And forget it.  You haven’t.  Or you wouldn’t feel that way about that Japanese girl.

 

Milo:  It touched my heart.

 

Wayne:  Yeah,  yeah.

 

Milo:  I thought, here’s a young girl.  Maybe I saved her daddy to give her a life.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  Huh?

 

Wayne:  Yeah,  indeed.

 

Milo:  See, I’m – –

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  – – I’m kind of a Mormon, you know.

 

Wayne:  When did you become a Mormon?

 

Milo:  Oh, what was it, back in ’36, ’37, when I was going into seminary, you know.

Hi Judy.

But, you know, little things like this in life, if I hadn’t of had a wonderful wife, I would have never come back home.

 

Wayne:  Really?

 

Milo:  Never.  I’d have never come back home.  I’d have went into Japan  – –

 

Wayne:  You mean you’d have – –

 

Milo:  I’d have stayed.

 

Wayne:  You’d have pulled away somewhere.

 

Milo:  I would have stayed in the war.  Because I – – I’d have been – – I’d have been up, you know.  They – – they wanted me to take over platoons, they wanted me to do this, do that.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  They even sent me over to headquarters, you know.  And helped me over there.  You know, and helped me,  helped me, helped me.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  They liked me.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  But if it hadn’t have been for – –

 

Wayne:  That’s interesting.  It didn’t surprise me when Harold became a career soldier.  Always thought Harold would like that.  But I didn’t  – – I wouldn’t have suspected that of you, you know.

 

Milo:  See, Harold got a Bronze Star.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  Did he – – you talked to him?

 

Wayne:  Yes.

 

Milo:  He got a Bronze Star.

 

Wayne:  Yeah, over at Dad’s place right after Dad died.  Paul Knight got a Bronze Star.

 

Wayne:  Did he?

 

Milo:  He did.

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh, in the Philippines.

 

Milo:  Dale Moyes – – Dale East was there, too.

 

Wayne:  Really.

 

Milo:  Yeah,  Dale East was there.

 

Wayne:  Yeah

 

Milo:  Blair Simpson was there.

 

Wayne:  In the Philippines?

 

Milo:  Yeah.

 

Wayne:  Did you run into all the guys.

 

Milo:  Never met a one of them.  Harold, my brother Harold – –

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

Milo:  I went to Kibachiwan to see Milo Sharp, and the night I got to Kibachiwan, about 2:00 o’clock in the morning,  those guys were in trucks going out.  And how are you gonna find him?

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  See, they’d relieved all the prisoners of war out of Kibachiwan.  Them guys, are the ones that caught the devil right there.  They – – they had a dirty setup taking prisoners of war there.

 

Wayne:  I didn’t see a soul from Plain City in the three years I was in the service.

 

Milo:  Yeah.

 

Wayne:  Until I got back home.  I was in Europe course.

 

Milo:  Yeah.

 

Wayne:  And I think the Philippines, they cluster together more.  We were spread all over, you know.  Or I the – –

Can we cut back for a little bit to your life in Plain City – –

 

Milo:  (unintelligible)

 

Wayne:  – – you went to Plain City school, you went to Weber High school.   Any big adventures there?

 

Milo:  In school?

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

Milo:  Oh, Mr. Bates, do you remember him?

 

Wayne:  Parley – – Parley Bates?

 

Milo:  Year, I remember Parley Bates.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.   Was he a big adventure?   I must have missed that part of him.

 

Milo:  He was – – oh, he was kind of like a prophet.

 

Wayne:  Really?

 

Milo:  Yeah understand me?  You can do it.

 

Wayne:  Well, we tried to teach me mathematics.  And he thought he could.  He was no prophet there.

 

Milo:  Well, what I mean is, he – – he tried.

 

Wayne:  Oh, yeah, he tried.

 

Milo:  He tried, tried, tried, tried.  Do you understand?  Now, in algebra and geometry, I was easy.

 

Wayne:  Really?

 

Milo:  Spelling?  I couldn’t even spell mother.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  They asked me to – – in school once to draw a Robin.  So I tried to draw a Robin, you know, Charcoal, whatever we had.  And when I got through drawing this little robin, the lady, sister Stewart, Norma Stewart, she says, Milo, what is this?  Is this an elephant. And I said, no, that’s a Robin.

 

But you know, spelling and  English,  things like that, I couldn’t go for it, you know. .

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  But when it come to building homes and stuff like that, I could take a set of blueprints and I could tell you every board that went into it.?

 

Wayne:  Right.  Now, did you – – did you just learn that on your own?

 

Milo:  It’s  – –

 

Wayne:  All your building skills and – –

 

Milo:  It’s probably like in your brain, you know, you take school and you take math and one thing another, and you – – you pick it up here and you pick it up there.  And Harold Hunt taught me a lot.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  Harold Hunt, Del Sharp.

 

Wayne:  Right.

 

Milo: Harold Hunt’s probably one of smartest men there is in the world on a square

 

Wayne:  Oh.

 

Milo:  Big framing square.

 

Wayne:  One of the quietest men in the world.

 

Milo:  Quietest men in the world.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo: Wonderful.  They’ve done a lot of good for Plain City.  If you want to ask me questions, go right ahead.   I’m just talking.

 

Wayne:  No, that’s fine.  I – – I’ve wanted to go talk to Harold, you know, but I’ve been scared a little bit.

 

Milo:  I’ll go with you.

 

Wayne:  Well,  I’m not sure we will because I’m out here tomorrow.

 

Milo:  Oh, But he’d be tickled to death for you to come over.

 

Wayne:  Really?

 

Milo : Yes, sir.

 

Wayne:  Yeah, I always feel like I’m butting in on people.

 

Gladys:  You ought to go see him a minute before you leave.

 

Milo:  He’d  be glad to talk to you.  And you could ask him about Howard.

 

Wayne:  Yeah that’s true.

 

Gladys:  Jump in the car and go over and see him before you go home.

 

Milo:  You got a minute?

 

Wayne:  Oh, boy, I gotta go see Frank Hadley pretty quick.  Maybe I could catch a minute tomorrow.

 

Milo:  Okay.

 

Wayne:  I can call you?  Or I’ll just go over and – – will he mind if I call him?

 

Milo:  He’d be glad to see you.

 

Wayne: His wife’s Ina.

 

Milo:  Ina.

 

Wayne:  Who was she.

 

Milo:  She was an Etherington from West Weber.

 

Wayne:  Adele’s  – – Ladell’s brother – –

 

Milo:  Right.

 

Wayne:  – – Right.  Tell me, you made your life after the war as a builder,  right?

 

Milo:  I worked for the American Pack for many years.

 

Wayne:  Oh, did you?

 

Milo:  I was assistant foreman on the killing floor for many years.

 

Wayne: Oh, that became Swift.

 

Milo:  Used to be the American Pack, then Swift took over.  Then when Swift come over, they came in with the union.  And I could see what was happening.   They put them on piecework.   And when they put them on piecework,  I could see what was happening and I decided to get out of there.  So I got out of there and I went into – – to the carpenter business and I went to work – – second day I quit, I went to work on the 24th street Viaduct as a carpenter.

 

Wayne:  Oh.

 

Milo:  So, I helped on the 24th street viaduct I built some scaffolding horses for them on them a-frames, on them I-beams and stuff like that,  to put the plank and that on – –

 

Wayne:  Is that the – – Are you talking about the new – –

 

Milo: 24th street viaduct.

 

Wayne:  When they pulled the old – –

 

Milo: West side down.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo: They took that all down right after the war.  But I went to work over there for Wheelright’s Toughy Wheelright.

 

Wayne: Oh.

 

Milo:  And they sent me from – – they sent me up on Kaysville up there with another guy and we went up there and we laid out a great big water tank hole.  He was a surveyor,  and he took me up there and he taught me how to survey, how to use an instrument, you know, and how to lay it out.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  And everybody seemed to like they kind of liked me when I got on a job with something like that, and it just seemed like everything fell together.  And then I went to work for Westingskow and Clay.  And I was a purchaser for them.

 

Wayne:  I’m sorry, who?

 

Milo:  Westingskow and Clay.

 

Wayne:  Westing- –

 

Milo:  Westingskow.

 

Wayne:  Skow.

 

Milo:  Yeah.   And Ben Clay.  They were builders.

 

Wayne:  Oh.

 

Milo:  We built down in Roy, Clearfield, and right in that area there.  They- – one of the biggest builders right after the war.

 

Wayne:  Work on all those homes that have filled up – –

 

Milo:  Yeah.

 

Wayne :  – – The country?

 

Milo:  Yeah. And then I – – I went – – I built 1q units,  four-plexes for C.R. England in Roy.

 

Wayne:  Really?

 

Milo:  You remember that?

 

Wayne:  Well, I remember Chester.

 

Milo:  Chester England,  he had the lumber yard.

 

Wayne:  I wasn’t around when he was in the lumber business no.

 

Milo: But I- – I went down into Roy right above the old folks’ home there and built 11 four-plexes for him. That’s the first – – first million dollars he made.

 

 

Wayne:  Really?

 

Milo:  Yeah.  He was offered a million dollars for them after we got completed.

 

Wayne:  Well, he just built them on speculation?

 

Milo:  Well, he had me build them and he furnished all the material and everything out of his lumber yard.  And he had me as a foreman and I overseen them.  And I helped them survey their sewer in for Roy sewer and we run the water and everything.  It was kind of new to all of them at that time- –

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

Milo:  – – to have that many units.   And they were kind of glad to have somebody help them, you know, to get their right measurements from the road and everything.   And it kind of work out nice.  But I worked for Chester England for all those years.  And then I work with Chester England in Plain City.  See, we built about 15 homes in Plain City for C.R. England.  But he financed each one of the homes we built for those people.

 

Wayne :  We’re these just individual lots?

 

Milo:  Individual lots.

 

Wayne:  They’re not side-by-side.

 

Milo:  No, just individuals.

 

Wayne: Uh-huh.

 

Milo: Down by the cemetery.

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

Milo:  See, he built them down through there.  And then after we got through with C.R. England, see, I went into business on myself and I had five guys working for me.  And we started to remodeling like Milton Brown’s house and built Dale Moyes’ house and Ike Moyes’ house.  We went right on through, Claire Folkman’s house, you know.

 

Wayne:  Where – – did Milton Brown live in Plain City.

 

Milo:  He lived in Warren,  down by the creek.

 

Wayne:  That’s what I thought.  By third creek.

 

Milo:  By Earl’s.

 

Wayne:  Yeah, that’s right,  yeah.

 

Milo:  See we remodeled his house.  And but I- – I  built Plain City Church with Lee Carver.  I built 38, 39th ward chapel on – – in South Ogden with Lee Carver.  He was the supervisor there.

 

Wayne:  He kind of worked for the church, didn’t he?

 

Milo:  He did work for the church.

 

Wayne:  Right.

 

Milo:  Worked for the church  (unintelligible).  I wrote Lee Carver a letter too.

 

Wayne:  I understand he’s in a rest home now.

 

Milo:  He’s in a rest home on 9th Street with his boy, Brent.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.  I’m glad the two of them can be together.

 

Milo:  Yeah.

 

Wayne:  I tried to call his daughter, Karen, but I can’t get them. I think they’re out – –

 

Milo:  If you wanna get a hold Lee Carver, I’ll go with you.  On 9th Street.  Take you right to his room.

 

Gladys:  Lee would be thrilled – –

 

Milo: He’d be glad  – –

 

Gladys:  – – to see you.

 

Milo:  You’d be- – you’d  do you good to get some tapes of that.

 

Wayne:  I’ve got – – I’ve got about ten tapes from Lee about ten years ago when he was still working out in his shop.

 

Milo:  They never give Lee Carver credit for building the Plain City church.  They didn’t even mention his name, dedication, you know that?

 

Wayne:  No.

 

Milo:  They didn’t even mention Milo Ross name a builder on it when they dedicated our church.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  It’s sad.  The guy that does the work and everything, he don’t get – – when we built Plain City Bowery up there, Junior Taylor and I done all the cement work.  They didn’t even mention that.  They mentioned the other guys that was in Lions’ club and this and that.

 

Wayne:  Oh.

 

Milo:  Do you understand?

 

Wayne: Yeah.

 

Milo:  But us guys, Junior Taylor and Milo Ross, they never give us credit for nothing.

 

Wayne:  Was Junior a builder?

 

Milo:  He helped cement, yeah, he helped us.  You see Clark Taylor run a housing building outfit up 2nd Street.  They called it Vitt’s Constitution.

 

Wayne:  Oh.

 

Milo:  Clark Taylor was the strawman of it.

 

Wayne:  Oh.

 

Milo:  He was the driver.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  That was up 2nd Street.  And Junior Taylor and Hugh Taylor and all then guys and Wilmette Taylor and all them come in, and he give us all work.  And that’s – – it helped each one of us progress.  But it’s really special.

 

Wayne: Yeah.  Well, I’m gonna have to go and I’ve kept you long enough.  Can you make a – – you’ve lived here all your life except for those four years you were in service.

 

Milo:  Three years.

 

Wayne :  Three years.   What do you make of it all?

 

Milo:  I’ve seen – – I’ve even got a picture of Milo, myself, in a buggy,  four, five of us in a buggy, one-horse-drawn buggy.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo :  I’m back that far.  And I remember we only had one light in a house, ceiling.

 

Wayne:  hanging from the – –

 

Milo: Hanging down.  You had to turn that on.

 

Wayne: Yeah.

 

Milo:  I remember Merle England gathering up milk after a while, he started gathering up the milk.  They used to have to take their milk to the creamery there they separated it, cream and milk.

 

Wayne: Right.

 

Milo:  I’ve got a cream separator out here I’ll show you before you go.

 

Wayne:  Have you?

 

Milo:  And I remember Ed Sharp getting one – – probably one – – not the first truck in here, but one of the first trucks.  Winer Maw, remember that great big truck they brought in here that had hard wheel rubber tires.

 

Wayne:  Oh.

 

Milo:  And – –

 

Wayne: A motorized truck?

 

Milo:  Yes, sir.

 

Wayne:  Not on pneumatic tires?

 

Milo:  It didn’t have on the – – it didn’t have on the air tires.  It had on – –

 

Wayne:  Good heavens.

 

Milo:  It had hard pressed rubber, like hard rubber on it.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo: And the young boy, George Maw, was probably the one that drove it from Ogden out to here.  I’m not sure.

 

Wayne: Yeah.

 

Milo:  Because we used to be able to go down to Maw’s and work a little bit to get a – – some lunch meat, baloney, and black Nigger Babies, and stuff like that, you know.

 

Wayne:  Right.

 

Milo:  Used to go help them unload coal and stuff like that to pick up a dollar.  We didn’t have money.  That’s what makes it bad.  But I – – remember the one light and milking the cows by hand.  Everybody had cows.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  Everybody had chickens.  They had animals.  Ducks and geese.  They traded eggs.  They traded wheat and grain.  I can remember when they used to grind their grain through that grinder.

 

Wayne: Oh.

 

Milo:  Grind it, you know, and make their own bread.  And they’d – – you didn’t have butter and stuff like that.  You couldn’t buy it.  You make your own butter.

 

Wayne:  Do you remember the old creamery out there.

 

Milo:  Yes, sir.  Right across  – –

 

Wayne: That was ruins when we were kids.

 

Milo:  Yeah.   That was right where Timmy Folkman lives there now on the north side by Fred Hunt’s house.

 

Wayne:  That’s just about across from Fred.

 

Milo:  Barn.

 

Wayne:  Down by the barn. Whose creamery was that?

 

Milo: I don’t know.

 

Wayne:  Do you know who started it or – –

 

Milo: I don’t know.  Lee Carver tore that down for the materials.

 

Wayne:  Did he?

 

Milo:  Uh-huh.

 

Wayne:  I remember that.

 

Milo:  Yeah.  Lee Carver –

 

Wayne:  Used to go down there and play in the ruins.

 

Milo:  Yeah.   He used to go there.  And on Saturdays and Sundays, they used to come there, and we used to box.  Harold Hunt had boxing gloves and he’d get us to use the gloves and box each other, you know.

 

Wayne: Yeah, Ted was telling me about that.  I hadn’t realized that.

 

Milo: Yeah, but we was having fun.

 

Wayne: Yeah.

 

Milo:  And then Harold Hunt and Bert Hunt and Lloyd Robbins and a bunch of them guys had their horses they used to ride. And they’d also play Wyatt Earp and all that and go underneath the horses belly and all this and that.

 

Wayne: Yeah.

 

Milo:  And Lloyd Robbins – – Lynn Robbins, he went underneath the horse up by uncle Ed Sharp’s, and when he went underneath the horse and came back up, the horse was running, and there’s a guy – wire that comes from the poles down into the ground?  And he caught that guy-wire on the side of his face and tore his face open that’s why he had a scar there.

 

Wayne:  I remember that.

 

Milo: Yeah.

 

Wayne:  He was a tall skinny kid.

 

Milo:  Tall skinny boy.

 

Wayne:  Was he Dob and Blaine’s  – –

 

Milo:  Yeah,  brother.

 

Wayne:  Or, no, who was Dob?

 

Milo:  Blaine.

 

Wayne:  Blaine.  And it was Blaine and Lloyd.

 

Milo: Yeah.

 

Wayne:  Right.

 

Milo:  And Lynn.

 

Wayne:  And Lynn.

 

Milo:  And Lois.

 

Wayne:  We’re they Ire’s – –

 

Milo:  Ire’s kids.

 

Wayne:  Kids.

 

Milo:  But everybody had cows.  Everybody drove their cows from Plain City out to pastures.

 

Wayne:  Right.

 

Milo:  Carvers done the same thing.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  And – –

 

Wayne:  Some came east, some went west.

 

Milo:  Did I tell you about the log cabin, the Carvers – –

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo: Okay.  I’ll tell you about the log cabin in Plain City.  The kids got into the old log cabin they had a roof over it to protect it.  And the kids got in there after the war and they – – they play up on the roof of the old cabin house, between that and the roof that they put over it to protect it.  And they got to using it for a latrine.  Instead of getting down, they’d urinate.   And in summer, you go down there to help fix up the old log cabin house, it smelled so bad, you couldn’t hardly stand the odor.   So the daughters of pioneers – – who had it at that time, Gladys?  Aunt Vic  Hunt?

 

Gladys:  Aunt Vic Hunt was one of the leaders.

 

Milo:  Who was the other one?

 

Wayne:  Mindi?

 

Milo:  Yeah.

 

Wayne:  In Moyes?

 

Milo:  Oh, the Carver girl.  Bud Carver’s daughter.

 

Wayne:  Beth?

 

Gladys:  Beth.

 

Milo:  Beth.

 

Wayne:  Oh,  okay.

 

Milo:  She had me come down and see what to do with the log cabin house, the Carver log cabin house.  They wanted to kind of restore it and keep it because it was going down to nothing.

 

Wayne :  Yeah.

 

Milo:  The plaster and everything was falling out of the walls.

 

Wayne:  That’s when it was down here by Walt’s

 

Milo:  Yeah.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo: But the plaster and everything was falling out of the walls and the roof and the ceiling and all the thing was going down .  The windows were broke out and everything like that.  So I went down and I told them, I says, I’ll fix it up, but I’m not gonna leave that roof on top because that’s where the kids are doing your damage.  I’m gonna take it all down, and make the log cabin, the Carver log cabin, so everybody can admire it.  So I – – over years, I’ve kept the log cabin up.  And Rosella Maw, Arlo Maw’s wife has a key to it now.  Where I used to have a key, now they won’t let me have a key to it anymore.  Since Rosella Maw took over, I don’t have a key.

 

Gladys: (unintelligible)

 

Milo:  Huh?

 

Gladys:  Rosella wants it.

 

Milo:  Rosella Maw.

 

Wayne:  We were in it just Saturday because there was a Carver reunion and Joanne went over to Rosella and got the key.

 

Milo:  You have to get the key.

 

Wayne:  We went in.

 

Milo:  I used to have a key.

 

Wayne:  That’s a shame

 

Milo:  I took care of it all my life, you understand?

 

Wayne :  Yeah.

 

Milo: Since the war and- –

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  And I fixed it all up and I put them big heavy shakes shingles on it and everything and I’ve put the mud back in the walls and fixed it up.  And I’ve put the steel gate and that on there.  And the windows.  I’ve fixed it all up.  And I’ve put great big long spikes through some of the logs, drove them spikes in through there so they cannot pull them out.

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

Milo:  See, I’ve cut the heads off the spikes and drove them – –

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  – -right in so kids – – and the kids use to tear them apart.  They’d take a log out and go through.  And that’s why them spikes are in there, put all them in there.  But over the years, Harold Carver- – Harold Carver donated money to president Calvert to shingle it and fix it up, some money one time.

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

Milo:  So president Calvert said he had this, money and that for it.  And I says, well, let me tear the roof and that all off and, let me fix it so it’s nice.  So that’s why theses thick but shingles are on there, them big slate shingles, and that.

 

Wayne:  Uh-huh.

 

Milo:  But otherwise,  you wouldn’t have a Carver building.

 

Wayne:  I hadn’t known that, you know, Milo.

 

Milo: Yeah.

 

Wayne:  I’m really proud that that’s the Carver thing up there.

 

Milo:  I am too.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  Because the Carvers meant a lot to me.

 

Wayne: Yeah.

 

Milo: Yeah.  Your dad, your mother was – – they were gold to us.  They shared their garden with us.  She’d pick beans and stuff and say, Gladys, would you like a mess of beans?  Gladys says, yes, I’ll be over to pick them.  She’d go over to pick them, they were already picked.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Gladys:  I had to take care of my handicapped daughter and that before I could go pick.

 

Milo:  But you see – –

 

Gladys:  Already had them picked.

 

Milo:  The Carvers- – the Carvers had really been a dad and mother to a lot of us.

 

Wayne:  I remember – – I’ve got a letter, you wrote dad a letter – –

 

Milo:  In the war.

 

Wayne:  – – in the war.  A very tender letter, yeah.

 

Milo:  But it come from my heart.

 

Wayne: Yeah.

 

Milo:  Do you know why I wrote him a letter?   Sent me a card.  Joe Hunt sent me a card.  Do you understand it?

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  You never forget that.

 

Wayne:  No. Yeah.

 

Milo:  But I – – I am a high-decorated soldier.  I was turned in for Congressional Medal of Honor and one of the lieutenants wouldn’t sign it.

 

Wayne:  Oh.

 

Milo:   You have to have two signatures.  But I did get a Silver Star.

 

Wayne:  Right.

 

Milo:  Do you understand me?

 

Wayne:  Yeah.   Did you ever meet George Whalen that got the Congressional medal?

 

Milo:  No.

 

Wayne:  The Slater Villegas kid?

 

Milo:  He was – –

 

Wayne:  He was in the navy- –

 

Milo:  – – Paramedics.

 

Wayne:  Yeah,  he was in – – oh, well, ever sorry you came back to Plain City?

 

Milo:  Well, I’ve lived in Plain City all my life.

 

Wayne:  I know.

 

Milo:  Plain City’s been our home all of our lives.  Its, like I was telling you about my dad, everybody told me not to go see him, I went and seen him.  And I’m glad I went and seen him.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo :  You understand me?  And this Japanese girl I was telling you about, if she is a daughter or relative to that guy that I took prisoner of war, my heart will be full of joy to think that I saved another generation of families.

 

Wayne:  Right,  but – – that will be one of the great miracles of all time- –

 

Milo:  It can happen.

 

Wayne:  – – If – -if she finds someone out of that – –

 

Milo:  It’s could be.

 

Wayne:  Oh,  it could be.   I don’t doubt that it could be.

 

Milo:  It could be.

 

Wayne:  But it’s called a miracle.

 

Milo:  Miracle.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  But it does happen every day.

 

Wayne:  Yeah?  So I know Harold lives over in West Weber.

 

Milo:  West Weber.

 

Wayne:  Paul was killed, you say?

 

Milo:  My brother Paul?  He died in a barn at Ed Sharp’s.

 

Wayne:  Your brother.

 

Milo:  My brother.   See, they were playing in the barn up at Ed Sharp’s and he fell out of the barn and broke his arm and concussion of the head, broke his head open.

 

Wayne:  How old was he then?

 

Milo:  Paul would have to be about nine or 11, somewhere in there.

 

Wayne:  So that happened not long after you came back to Plain City.

 

Milo:  We came back home down here.

 

Wayne:  And your sister – –

 

Milo:  June.

 

Wayne:  – – June.

 

Milo:  She’s still alive and living in California.   In Anaheim, I think she lived down around Anaheim, (unintelligible) district area. But tell him – – tell him about the letters aunt Vic Hunt was gonna give me, then she didn’t give me the cigar box.

 

Gladys:  I’ve got some letters.  And they’re Milo’s, they were sent to Milo’s, and I’ve kept them all these years and I wanna give them to him.  Se me and Milo went over this night.  And she says, well, they’re upstairs.   I’ll have to go upstairs and get them.  So she opened that door to go upstairs, then she come back and says, no, Milo, I don’t think I’m gonna give you these letters yet.  So Milo never got those letters.

 

Milo:  She’s handed me the cigar box.

 

Gladys:  She handed them to him, then took them back.

 

Milo:  I says, Aunt Vic, if that means that much to you, you take this box back.   I never got the box.

 

Wayne:  And you said you think you know who has that?

 

Milo:  I think Archie Hunt’s family got it.

 

Wayne:  Archie.

 

Milo:  But I’m not never gonna say anything to Archie Hunt.

 

Wayne:  Now, who – – yeah.

 

Milo:  It’s Bert.  That would be Fred Hunt’s- –

 

Wayne:  Did Archie marry Carol?

 

Milo:  Yeah.  Ralph Taylor.

 

Wayne:  Ralph and Elma’s, yeah.

 

Milo:  What’s in that box, little bit of money and that was in that box, do you understand?   Were the gifts that they’d sent me.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  Gold pieces and stuff like that.  I really don’t care.  Silver certificate notes, gold notes.  You know, they had silver and gold certificates then, you know.

 

Wayne:  I’ve heard of them.  I don’t remember seeing them.

 

Milo:  Well,  I got some.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  But I got – -but I will – – I’ll – – I’ll fix you up a copy of my citations.

 

Wayne:  I’d appreciate that a lot.  And I’m not gonna have time to see – –

 

Milo:  Now, Frank – – Frank Hadley has got a lot of history about the baseball playing.  And he’s got a lot about Milo Ross pitching the ball game, 13 strikeouts, 12 strikeouts, 11 strikeouts, you know what I mean?  No hitters.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo: And Frank Hadley has all of that.  But I’ve never been able to get him- –

 

Wayne:  has he got the score books?

 

Milo:  Yes.

 

Wayne:  Has he?

 

Milo:  Yeah.

 

Wayne:  I’ve gotta go over and talk to him.

 

Milo:  Yeah.

 

Gladys:  He’d love to see you.

 

Wayne:  What?

 

Milo:  You know where he lives.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  Down there.

 

Wayne: Yeah.  I see him in the winter at st. George.

 

Milo:  Do you go down there?

 

Wayne:  We’ve been renting a place, so we go whenever we can find a place to live.

 

Milo:  Archie Hunt has a home in – – ground in St. George,  Archie Hunt. And they rent that out.

 

Wayne:  Oh.

 

Milo:  So maybe you ought to get a hold Archie Hunt and put a trailer on there once in a while.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  Are you still teaching?

 

Wayne:  No.  I retired.

 

Milo:  You’ve retired

 

Wayne:  Yeah.   I taught until was 70 and decided that was enough.

 

Milo:  Dr. Burst has a son that he’s – – Nicholas.  Just put him in Stanford, California for $31,000 for one year, schooling.  Thirty, thirty-one thousand.

 

Wayne:  Yeah,  I can believe it.  My school is about 28.

 

Milo: Yeah.

 

Wayne: Yeah.  And there are families that have got two or three kids – –

 

Milo:  Right.

 

Wayne: – – that – – I couldn’t afford Weber College.

 

Milo:  Well, that’s the way – –

 

Wayne: Which was 56 a year.

 

Milo:  But I have that grandson there that picks up close to $52,000 on paper – –

 

Wayne: Yeah.

 

Milo:  – – Besides what other he gets.   When they went back to these here scholarship meetings and stuff like this,  they give them tapes, they give them the recordings, they gave them pamphlets for the computers.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo:  They pick up like- – what did he tell us – – $7,000 in these pamphlets and stuff for the computers, disk and stuff like that.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo: They’re gifts to these kids.   If you had to buy them, it’s amazing.

 

Gladys :  He’s just a very smart boy and he isn’t a smart alec

He’s just as nice as can be.

 

Milo:  He’s nice like his father and his grandfather.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.

 

Milo: But you take – – you take the Carver family, probably respected more than any family in Plain City that I’ve ever known, the Carver family.

 

Wayne:  Yeah, well, I’m real pleased to hear that.  I’m, you know, it’s been so long since I’ve lived here, I – -and it almost breaks my heart when I see the that the old town has disappeared,  you know, bears no relationship.

 

Milo:  You see, I remodeled your dad’s place.

 

Wayne:  Oh, I thought that’s all you did. I didn’t know you worked for contractors.

 

Milo:  Well, I worked for contract- –

 

Wayne: You built mom’s kitchen that she was so proud of.

 

Milo:  I got underneath the floor, put the floor back together.  There wasn’t even any floor under it.

 

Wayne: I don’t know what’s in there now.

 

Milo:  Your family’s in there.

 

Wayne: Well, it breaks Joan heart the way Lorin and Carolyn have just let it – –

 

Milo:  They let it go.

 

Wayne:  Yeah.  Well- –

 

(Tape Ends.)

The Story of Anna Elizabeth Reber

I stumbled upon this history written about Anna Elizabeth Reber.  Anna was the third spouse to my John Christoph Nuffer.  He married her 28 September 1893 in the Logan Utah Temple after my 3rd Great Grandmother Eva Katharina Greiner died 26 February 1893 in Mapleton, Franklin, Idaho.  I thought it was interesting to review the life of a later spouse for John Christoph Nuffer.  If you would like to review the pdf with pictures and more, it is attached here:  Reber

The Story of Anna Elizabeth Reber

We would like to acknowledge dedicated genealogists who have preserved for decades the oral histories, journals, and handwritten records used in this story.

Faith and Courage

The Story of Anna Elizabeth Reber

By: Christine A. Quinn and Sterling D. Quinn

Graphic design by: Michelle Quinn, Au.D.

2017

Anna Elizabeth Reber

Early Years in Switzerland

1855-1875

 

Frau Reber felt only gratitude that her new baby was alive and had not died as had her last child.  This little girl, born May 17, 1855, would complete their family of three sons and three daughters. They named the child Anna Elizabeth to distinguish her from her older sisters, Anna and Barbara.  Later in life this child would come to be known simply as “Annie.”

The family was settled on the Reber’s ancestral farm in Schangnau, Bern, Switzerland where they spoke a unique Bern dialect of Swiss German, or Schwyzertutsch (Luck 1985).  It was a small country village dotted with chalets, settled in the forested and fertile Emmental valley along the Emme and Aare rivers. It has been said, “An who have wandered through such magnificent forests as those of …Emmental, will never forget the berries, the mushrooms, the neatly arranged stacks of firewood, the beautifully colored autumn foliage, and the grey low-hanging mists and frost-decorated conifers of early winter”  (Luck, 1985 p. 470). For hundreds of years in this valley the same industrious group of families had raised cattle for milk and cheese, while nurturing vineyards, orchards and crops.

This was a Switzerland just emerging from the hated status of a vassal state to the French Emperor Napoleon, an indignity thrown off seven years prior.  Hope arose as the impoverished and beleaguered people named the central city of Bern to be the capital of the new Swiss Confederation (Luck) 1985).

The child Annie grew nurtured in the love of her family.  Little girls in Switzerland wew taught the virtues of being clean, neat, punctual, thrifty, independent, and hard working.  There were cows to be milked as well as household chores to be done. Annie would have been taught to knit and sew the linen, silk, and cotton fabrics for which the Swiss were famous.  Education was also encouraged.

Tragedy visited the family when Annie’s 21 year old brother, Jacob, died in the fall of 1861.  This loss left an indelible impression on the six year old girl, enough that many years later she ensured saving ordinances were performed on his behalf in a temple of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS).

 

Marriage and Family

1875-1890

 

How Annie and her future husband, Gottfried Weiermann, met is a mystery,  but Bern did enjoy the reputation of being “more lively and sociable than any other town in Switzerland”.  Men and women came together to amuse themselves with English country dances as well as waltzes (Luck, 1985 p. 255)

The Weiermann family worked the land and raised cattle for many generations in the village of Wynigen, a little over 20 miles northeast of the city of Bern.  Rather than compete with five brothers for farmland, Gottfried decided to try his hand at the ancient profession of stone masonry. At age 23 when he met Annie, he had perhaps finished his apprenticeship and therefore gained some freedom to marry.

The couple were likely wed in the Protestant church in Wynigen on 21 August 1875.  At the time, Annie was only months away from giving birth. The couple affectionately named this child after his father, Gottfried, but he was known as “Fred”.  Although he was a sickly child, Fred would survive to bring his mother much joy and comfort until the end of her life.

Less than two years later the family moved again to Ferenberg where Anne gave birth to twins, Andre and Peter.  They survived only a day, which tragically was not uncommon at that time as one out of every five births in Switzerland ended in death (Luck, 1985).

A year later Gottfried moved his family closer to the city of Bern to Ostermundigen, the largest regional quarry center in Switzerland.  A special train with a cog in the center had been invented six years earlier to haul the thick, soft, and colorful sandstone up from the mines.  Previously this job relied on horse or mule tams. The train made it possible to quarry enough stone for export, while also enabling urban expansion of Bern, which demanded massive amounts of stone for new buildings.  Up to 500 men were working as either quarry men, Steinbrecher, who extracted the stone, or stone masons, Steinhau, who skillfully dressed, shaped, and cut the stone. Of the two, stone masons enjoyed a higher social status.  The stone masons of Bern had an established fraternity in the city since 1321 (Storemyr, 2012). Gottfried, along with other craftsmen, flocked to this bountiful source of work.

Next to the noisy and dusty train yard, families of stone masons resided in multistory slums (Storemyr, 2012).  Laundry hanging between tenements flapped in the wind while the narrow dirty streets teemed with children of all ages.  Families crowded into tiny, tightly packed rooms, sharing limited sanitation facilities. “The wages were exceedingly low and people extremely poor” (Stucki 1888, Nov. 20).  Stomachs were never full. In 1876, Swiss families were spending 60 % of their income on food. “A typical diet for the older children and adults consisted of coffee, black tea, or cocoa water with a little milk, some cheese and bread.  ….The midday meal typically consisted of boiled potatoes, pasta, cheese, and coffee or tea, and wine. The evening meal was usually of cheese and a vegetable soup – the latter being made by boiling together leeks, cabbage, beetroot, potatoes, and pasta” (Luck, 1985, p.p. 249,441).

In the spring of 1878 with the aid of a midwife, 23 year old Annie gave birth to a son, Christian, and in September of the next year to a daughter, Ida.  Like all their neighbors, the family fought for financial survival. Not quite 4 years old, Fred would have been responsible for helping keep his little sister safe and happy as their mother cared for her new infant.  Imagine her efforts in washing cloth diapers and keeping a clean house under those circumstances! Years later Annie’s daughter, Ida, reflected her mother’s standards when she said, “Just because you are poor, you don’t need to be dirty” (Arave, 2017).

The Weiermanns had lived in Ostermundigen at least five years when on 2 August 1883 they welcomed a blonde curly-haired baby boy into their home.  He was named Jacob after his maternal grandfather and deceased uncle.

Two years later Annie was expecting a child for her final time.  Due to unknown circumstances (perhaps poverty or a medical crisis), she traveled an hour to the hospital in Bern on a cold December day in 1885 where she gave birth to a small girl who didn’t survive (Weyerman, G).  They named her Anna.

At this point, the family consisted of Gottfried age 33, Annie age 30, Fred age 10, Christian 7, Ida 6, and Jacob age 2.  Gottfried may have occasionally taken his oldest son to the stone yard to teach him aspects of his craft, because in later years Fred was known as a skilled stone mason (Weyerman G).

Gottfried’s pursued recreation of heavy drinking with the stone mason’s fraternity began to affect the Weiermann family.  Workers bonded over alcohol, and Ostermundigen quarry men became legendary for schnapps consumption (Storemyr, 2012). Unfortunately, Gottfried’s drinking created a fissure in his marriage.  Circumstances only worsened with the death of 10-year-old Christian on 4 June 1887. The cause is unknown; it may have been an accident, or one of the many infectious diseases rampant at that time such as influenza, smallpox, diphtheria, tuberculosis, Typhus fever, or measles (Luck, 1985).

Annie and Gottfried’s marriage soon reached a breaking point and ended in divorce (Weiermann, I. 1955).  Years later in a heart-wrenching remembrance, Fred wrote, “My parents lived financially poor. Conditions brought it about that the family got badly broken up and scattered.  Three of my brothers and one sister was called on the other side. In the year 1887, the rest of my family met the sad experience of the separation of Father and Mother on account of drunkenness” (Weyerman, G).

Desperate to provide for her children, Annie hired out as a seamstress, one of the few professions available to women that would allow her to care for little ones at home (Wheeler, I.).  Wages were notoriously low; a decade later, women making shirts in their homes were earning less than a penny an hour, and often worked more than 12 hours a day (Cadbury, 2011). Bending over and straining to see tiny stitches by the dim light of an oil lamp was exhausting.  “As one of the infamous sweated trades, seamstressing represented the trails of arduous work, miserable working conditions, impossibly long hours, and equally impossibly low wages” (Harris, chap. 2.). The older children most likely helped their mother by doing the chores and mining their siblings; but life soon changed for 11 year old Fred in a way that must have torn at his mother’s heart.

Because of the family’s poverty and her status as a divorced mother, Annie was legally compelled to register with one of the councils in Ostermundigen responsible to care for the poor and orphans.  If it was believed the children could not be provided for this council had the power to break up the poorest families. Despite Annie’s courageous efforts to support her children, the council forced Fred to enter into foster care, there he became known as a “Verdingkinder”, or literally “discarded child” (Foulkes, 2012).

In this sad circumstance, the amiable and music-loving Fred was taken from his mother and given into the custody of a gentleman who lived in Habstetten, about an hour’s walk from his family.  There, Fred attended school and helped with the chores. He longed for his family, and visited his mother whenever he could obtain permission (Weyerman,G).

 

“Oh! But for one short hour!

A respite however brief!

No Blessed leisure for love or hope,

But in their briny bed

My tears must stop, for every drop

Hiders needle and thread!”

 

With fingers weary and worn,

With eyelids heavy and red,

A woman sat in unwomanly rags,

Plying her needle and thread —

-Thomas Hood

“Song of the Shirt”

 

Within a year after these turbulent events, Annie received an invitation from her neighbor to meet with missionaries, or Elders, from LDS church.  Members of this faith were commonly known as Mormons. After meeting several times, Annie began to take her children along to Sunday School and other meetings (Wheeker, I).  Annie almost immediately recognized the simplicity and truthfulness of the long awaited and newly restored church of Jesus Christ. Her countrymen had been searching for this truth through the Protestant Reformation for over 300 years (Luck, 1985).  One can imagine the gospel of Jesus Christ calming her soul and assuaging her fears at a time of life when it was most needed.

Annie, Ida, and Jacob began a formal study of Mormonism with young Elder Alfred Budge, who taught them the first principles of the gospel (Weyerman, G). Annie may have read the tract, Die Froke Botschaft, (Glad Tidings of Great Joy), or Glaubenskekenntniss, (The Articles of Faith) (Reiser).  In time, she received a witness from the Holy Ghost that Christ’s church had been restored to the earth through the young American prophet, Joseph Smith Jr.  Despite some local persecution, she and Ida were soon converted and baptized by Elder Budge in late October 1888. At this time, Jacob had not yet reached the age of 8 years old required for baptism (Wheeler, I).

Arriving at church on Sundays took an hour of walking into downtown Bern, where Annie and her children wound through cobblestone streets lined with ancient stone houses standing side by side like soldiers at attention.  They knew they were getting close to their destination when they heard the Sabbath bells pealing from the gothic tower of the Bern cathedral. Soon they arrived at the mission office where church services were held. The many families who attended the Bern Branch may have eaten a modest lunch as the fellowshipped between morning and evening meetings.  Every week the congregation took the sacrament and listened to preaching by either Mission President Stucki, the local Branch President, or one of the Elders. A volunteer choir provided uplifting music (Stucki, 1837-1918).

Around this time Fred went to live with another foster family in the closer town of Ittigen, which shortened the walk to see his loved ones.  During Fred’s visits, his mother earnestly shared with him the principles of the new religion she was learning. It was her heart’s desire that he would be baptized and join the church.

 

Swiss/German

Missionaries

1880-1890

 

The Mormon missionaries in the region of Bern were led by John Ulrich Stucki.  A native of Switzerland, Stucki had been living in the territory of Utah at the time of his assignment to serve as the Swiss/German Mission President.  This would be the second time he accepted this weighty responsibility.

Not only would Stucki be responsible for the 13 traveling Elders in the mission; he would also publish the monthly LDS newsletter, “Der Stern”, and he would administer from his office in Bern all the branches of the church in Germany and Switzerland.  Added to these weighty responsibilities was overseeing the twice yearly emigration to Utah made by Swiss and German Mormons. These members wishing to join others of their faith in the building up of “Zion” would leave their homes and travel to the Rocky Mountains of the United States of America (Stucki, 1837-1918).

Accompanying Presiden Stucki to the mission field was 19 year old Alfred Budge, the son of Stucki’s good friend, William Budge.  What thoughts and anticipations might have filled the young elder’s mind as he contemplated his father’s earlier mission to Switzerland in 1854, “when opposition to the church was so violent that within three months he was on thirteen occasions placed under arrest and imprisoned for short periods, and finally was obligated to return to England!” (Budge, W).

When President Stucki and Elder Budge arrived in Switzerland on 15 May 1888 Elder Budge did not speak German (Stucki, 1837-1918).  Five months later he was teaching the Weiermann family in Ostermundigan using their native tongue (Wheeler, I).

Working with Elder Budge was the pleasant-mannered Elder Albert Schneider Reiser from Salt Lake City.  His Swiss parents spoke German at home, so he had the advantage of being familiar with the language.

Seventeen old Albert had been forced to grow up fast after his father, along with many faithful LDS men, was incarcerated by the United States government for the common practice of polygamy.  To support his family, Albert took charge of their clock repair business in downtown Salt Lake. He delivered customers’ clocks to the prison, where his father repaired them. Interestingly, Elder Budge’s father was converted to the LDS faith in Scotland, and Elder Reiser’s in Switzerland; yet they both emigrated to America on the same ship and crossed the plains to Utah in the same wagon train 28 years earlier in 1860 (Reiser).

 

Switzerland to United States

Emigration

1890

 

Elder Reiser arrived in Switzerland just a few days after Annie’s baptism, and began helping to teach the Weiermann family (Stucki 1837-1918).  The missionaries had with them some pictures of Utah. For decades, Mormon converts in Europe had been encouraged by church leaders to gather to “Zion” in the American West.  Surely ideas of emigration were planted by visiting Elders and church officials, but when accused of being an emigration agent, Elder Reiser remarked: “It was not my business to persuade people to emigrate, but to bring them the Gospel….there was only one true church….[I] told them how important it was for mankind to investigate Joseph Smith’s message….”(Reiser).

One late summer morning Fred joined his family on their brisk walk to church.  His mother made an astonishing announcement that she had arranged for them to emigrate to Zion!  Because the children had received an inheritance from the death of their father’s Aunt Isali, they could afford to emigrate.  The family would be reunited and travel together to start a new life with the Saints in Utah. (Weyerman, G.)

After the day’s church services, Annie shared with the mission president some of her worries about Fred’s situation.  President Stucki lovingly took hold of her hands and prophesied, “Fear not, for your son Gottfried. He will be the means of bringing many souls into the church” (Weyerman, G).  Within 10 days, Annie and her three children, led by President Stucki and joined by Elder Budge, began their odyssey to Zion.

The miracle of emigration did not take place without Annie’s heroic effort and faith.  President Stucki promised that if the saints paid their tithing, a way would be opened up for them to join the saints in Zion (Stucki, July 31, 1888).  The children’s inheritance from their great aunt had been put into an untouchable trust. With nerve and steely determination, the slight-built Annie faced authorities and requested they give her the funds to use for emigration to America.  When they refused, she threatened to leave without the children and then the state could raise them! After this ultimatum, they relented and granted her the inheritance of 500 Swiss francs (Weiermann, I., 1955).

Annie delivered the money to President Stucki, who hired agents from the Guion shipping line to purchase train and steamer tickets.  These agents arranged transportation, loding, and food, and also oversaw the moving of luggage from Switzerland to England and then on to America.  President Stucki also took care of details such as procuring bedding, tinware, etc. to be forwarded to the steamer for the transatlantic crossing (Stucki, 1937-1918).

In preparation for the voyage, Annie made some traditional hard dry Swiss bread, then fried it in butter to be their principal diet.  The missionaries taught them how to say “hot water” in English, so they could request some to pour over their bread, thus making it edible (Wheeler, F 1948).  Then the family of four packed all their worldly goods into five pieces of luggage (Mormon Migration). They were now ready to travel over 5,000 miles to join the Saints in Utah.

 

May God Bless Them All and Bring

Them Safely into the Bosom of the

Church and Kingdom of God”

 

This was the fourth and final emigration that President Stucki oversaw during this mission.  He and Elder Budge wew being released from their callings to return home to America with the emigrating saints.  Feelings were tender in the Bern branches the day before departure when President Stucki preached his farewell sermon in Sacrament Meeting.  Since his arrival two years earlier, he served the saints daily while surviving fever and smallpox. At the close of the meeting it is likely they sang the Swiss hymn, “May God Bless Them All and Bring Them Safely in the Bosom of the Church and Kingdom of God” (Stucki, 1837-1918).

The next morning, Monday, 1 September 1890, Annie (35), Fred (14), Ida (10), and Jacob (7) began their pilgrimage by boarding the train in Bern.  Who can know the conflicted feelings that must have been in their hearts? These may have involved jow, excitement, and hope of a new life in America among the Saints of God; mixed with the regret of leaving loved ones and the magnificent country of their birth.  Years later when Fred saw a newsreel about the Alps in Switzerland he sat and wept from homesickness for his native land. He commented, “The beauty of that land could not be found anywhere else”. (Weyerman, G).

At 10:30 a.m. the saints were on their way north to the border city of Basel entertaining themselves with singing.  Arriving after noon, the train pulled into Basel to pick up the missionaries as well as 13 members of the faithful Gygi family.  To everyone’s horror Rudolph Gygi, the father, had been stabbed the night before in the face by a mob of hoodlums who thought he was taking his six daughters to be enslaved in polygamy (Gygi).

Through the night and into Tuesday, the travelers continued north by train into Belgium.  It was 2 September, Ida’s 11th birthday. Perhaps she made friends with Anna and Elisa Gygi and helped them watch their younger brothers and sisters.  At the late hour of 11:00 p.m. the weary saints arrived in the port city of Antwerp. The Swiss emigrants were met at the train station by their agent who provided a wagon to transport their luggage and at least seven children under age 10 to a boarding house.  Before retiring, all received refreshment, which could have been soup, meat, vegetables, coffee, and bread (Stucki, J. 1837-1918).

After a night’s rest, the Swiss saints united with about 51 emigrating converts from Germany who spoke German so differently that neither group could understand the other.  Together this made 72 travelers. Once again they loaded their belongings onto a wagon to transport them down to the dock where the shop was moored (Stucki 1937-1918.) There the family had their first glimpse of the vast sea and all the ships and business of the bustling Antwerp harbor.  Searching for words, Ida wrote as an old woman, :The trip across the ocean was quite – I don’t know what you would call it – an experience to us” (Weiermann,I. 1955).

All boarded the steamer, which launched into the North Sea shortly after noon.  Their destination was the port of Hull on England’s eastern shore (Woods & Evans 2002).  For many, this was the first time on the open sea. Spirits were high and the saints passed time with singing hymns of praise, or conversion pleasantly.  President Stucki recorded, “the vessel went steady, sea sickness was therefore very light and confined to but few” (Stucki 1837-1918).

They traveled all night to reach Hull on Thursday at 3:00 in the morning.  The ship could not dock at low tide, so the passengers had to transfer in the dark to a tugboat that took them to shore.  Ida remembered the confusion, “While crossing the North Sea, something went wrong with the ship and we had to change ships.  Somehow we lost a roll of bedding, which we needed very much” (Stucki 1837-1918) (Weiermann, I., 1955). Despite the hassle of getting ashore, the emigrants were met by a kindly agent who examined their luggage to verify it was duty-free.  He also saw that the hungry Saints received something to eat before boarding a train late in the day.

Lulled to sleep by the clicking -clacking rhythm of the steam train’s wheels, the adventures slept most of the six-hour 140 mile journey across England to Liverpool.  They arrived before dawn on Friday morning (Stucki, 1837-1918).

 

September 1890

MON 01    Train: Bern – Basel

TUES 02    Train: Antwerp

WED 03    Boat: Antwerp – Hull

Thurs 04    Train: Hull – Liverpool

FRI 05        Liverpool – Immigration House

SAT 06    Loading of the ship, off at 3pm

SUN 07    Atlantic Crossing Day 1 – Queenstown

MON 08    Atlantic Crossing Day 2 – 294 miles

TUES 09    Atlantic Crossing Day 3 – 300 miles

WED 10    Atlantic Crossing Day 4 – 320 miles

THURS 11    Atlantic Crossing Day 5 – 298 miles

FRI 12     Atlantic Crossing Day 6 – Newfoundland

SAT 13     Atlantic Crossing Day 7 – 314 miles

SUN 14    Atlantic Crossing Day 8 – 320 miles

MON 15    Atlantic Crossing Day 9 – 298 – miles

TUE 16     Atlantic Crossing Day 10 – 308 miles

        Arrival in New York, USA

WED 17    Luggage and Customs

    TRAIN CROSSING TO UTAH & IDAHO

SUN 28    Train: Montpelier, ID

Wagon and Buggy to Paris, ID

Once again, shipping hires by President Stucki greeted the Mormon converts upon their arrival to Liverpool.  This city situated on the western coast of England was considered in the nineteenth century the most active international port of emigration in the world.  It was also home to the British Mission, and served as the administrative headquarters for the LDS church in Europe (Woods & Evans, p.91).

Passengers were not allowed to board their ships until either the day before or the day of departure (Liverpool); thus, the saints were taken to an immigration house to wait, eat, and rest for a day (Stucki, 1837-1918).

Meanwhile, it was LDS church procedure that every emigration company have a Presidency.  They would watch over the saints, conduct Sunday services, and see that everyone reached their destination.  John U. Stucki acted as President, and selected Alfred Budge and C. Meyer as his counselors. The day before departure, they were called and set apart by the British mission president, George Teasdale (Stucki, 1857-1918) (Mormon Migration Database, 1890, Sept. 6).

The sleek 366.2 ft steamer S/S Wisconsin, piloted by Captain Worral, waited patiently at port to receive her passengers (Mormon migration database, 1890, Sept. 6).  She was one of a fleet of 16 ships run by the Liverpool and Great Western Steamship Company,  known commonly as the “Guion Line.”  For 20 years the company’s ships had been launching twice a week to transport passengers and mail from Liverpool to New York.  A typical trip across the Atlantic took a week. At a time when there was no air travel, they were known as “ocean greyhounds” (Guion) (Miller).

All day Saturday September 6 a steady stream of humanity carting trunks, baskets, bags, and bed rolls trudged up the ramp of the stately steamship with its tall dark smokestack.  Seventy-six first staterooms as well as spacious dining rooms. Thy were joined by 100 intermediate passengers.

Then the Weiermann family joined a mass of 800 impoverished voyagers crowded into the notorious “steerage” section below deck (miller).  Annie, Ida, and Jacob were together in the Port Aft Steerage, while Fred was assigned Fore Steerage, perhaps because he was an older single male (Mormon migration Database, 1890, Sep.6).

It was a cacophony of humanity: men women and children from many countries speaking a babble of languages.  Each passenger was assigned a number on a canvas berth. When not in use the berths could be neatly stowed away making space for tables and  seats during the day. The journey would be no luxury cruise for these steerage passengers. Conditions were cramped, food was poor, and the atmosphere often bad; especially during rough weather when access to the upper deck was restricted. (Solem).

By 3:00 PM the ship’s crew drew up anchor.  All passengers went on deck, waving white handkerchiefs and throwing hats as they watched England slowly shrink into the horizon.  With this fanfare, Annie and her family bid farewell to their old life, and looked with hope to a brighter future in America, the land of opportunity.

As the ship glided into the night, the Swiss converts completed the irs six days of their traveling adventure.  When the sun came up it was a beautiful morning and the sea was as smooth as glass. President Stucki would have liked to conduct Sunday services, but the ship was too crowded and there was nowhere they could meet without disturbing someone.

By Late morning they reached the southern seaport of Ireland’s Queenstown harbor, where they remained for an hour or so to pick up more passengers.  Soon after moving out, they were engulfed in a dense blanket of fog. Everyone listened with suspense to a shrill whistle blow in rapid succession waning other floating vessels of their presence.  Soon all was well as they glided out of the fog into weather as fine as before. Although the steamer was quite steady, some began to get sea sick (Stucki, 1837-1918).

By Monday, several of the women and a baby were pretty sick, which kept President Stucki and his counselors busy.  Ida and her brothers were focused on the adventure and didn’t seem to mind the discomforts of travel. She said, “We used to go up on deck all the time.  The sailors would take us skating across it. We really had a good time – us kids did when we wasn’t sick” (Weiermann, I., 1955).

If the passengers weren’t sick on Monday, many became queasy on the next day when a wind made the sea rough and caused the ship to pitch and roll.

An English convert traveling a few years earlier on the same ship described a similar chaotic event:

“….Towards night the wind began to raise rather rough and the captain shouted out from the upper deck, “Look out for a storm.” The sailors began to run from one end of the ship to the other with large chains and ropes….We was then all ordered down below.  Pots, pans, buckets, and everything that was not fast was rolling about. Old people falling down, young ones laughing at the fun but did not last long. A large rope had been placed all along the water closets for protection. During the time we was standing by this rope waiting to get in the closets, our ship gave another sudden roll and we fell over this rope, old and young, head and tail together, vomiting on each other.  Girls screaming, boys laughing, old men and women grumbling, children crying” (Horsley, S., 1877, September 19-29).

The Ship continued to roll heavy with water pouring over the deck clear into Wednesday.  Soon even President Stucki and Elder Budge were sick too (Stucki, 1837-1918.) Years later Ida recalled, “When we were sick we would have to go on deck every day no matter how sick you were.  But we got across” (Weiermann, I. 1955).

On Thursday quite a number of suffering women remained in their berths.  Crowded conditions below deck caused the air to become fetid with disagreeable body odors, strange foods, vomit, waste, and ship oil.  Mercifully, the temperatures were quite cool (Stucki, 1837-1918).

By the sixth day at sea the weather improved, the ship steadied, and everyone felt much more cheerful.  Despite the rather chilly stiff breeze most passengers enjoyed a refreshing interlude basking in the sun on deck.  Some excitedly observed an iceberg silhouetted against the horizon about ten miles to the left (Stucki, 1837-1918).

At last after being a sea for a week, the ship entered cal waters off the coast of Newfoundland.  Some of the sick were beginning to feel better; everyone felt happier and more hopeful. In the afternoon, steerage passengers had to pass a routine health inspection, and if necessary receive vaccinations.  This was in the interest of the shipping company to avoid paying a hefty fee for any unhealthy passengers.

Sunday, President Stucki conducted church services in he saloon, or the first class public area of the ship.  The next few days passed without incident. There was some rain, but much to the passengers. President Stucki notes in his journal, “If it had been as warm all the way as the first two days, there would no doubt have been a good deal of sickness; the Lord is overruling all things for good.” (Stucki, 1837-1918).

On Tuesday afternoon, to everyone’s great joy  and anticipation,their destination was sighted!  All the immigrants strained to see the fabled America.  With gratitude and relief for a safe journey, the travelers watched the New York skyline slowly grow into view.  Their hearts certainly swelled at the first glimpse of the magnificent and newly erected Statue of Liberty. Majestically she  lifted her lamp to greet the “huddled masses yearning to breathe free”. (Lazarus, 1883). They passed Staten or “Quarantine” Island at 5:00 that evening, pulling up to the pier at 7:15 p.m. It was 16 September 1890; the first day of their life in America!

Heavy rain caused some delay the next day, but the baggage was unloaded by Wednesday noon, and an examination made by custom house officers.  Since the Immigration Station on Ellis Island was under construction, new arrivals were taken to the temporary Barge Office located in Castle Clinton at Battery Park on the southern tip of Manhattan Island (Ellis Island Immigration Museum.)  There all steerage passengers had to pass inspection or be sent back. Ida years later remembered the tense time in this way, “When we arrived at Ellis Island (sic), [mother] did not have the necessary amount of money the government required of those coming into this country, so she showed them a letter of proposal of marriage she had received from a convert who was already in the United States, and let them believe she was coming to marry him” (Weiermann, I. 1955) (Wheeler, F., 1948).

When all was cleared and the immigration process finished President Stucki concluded in a letter, “We are very thankful to our Heavenly Father for the many blessings received thus far, and feel to trust in him for our safe arrival in the land of his choice” (Mormon Migration database 6 Sept. 1890-Sept. 1890.).

It isn’t known for sure which railroad route the Weiermann family and their fellow saints took west.  Nevertheless as they crossed the continent, vast flat prairie lands would seem endless to someone from a tiny country encircled by tall mountains.  It was an adventure with pleasures for wide-eyed travelers. Ida thrilled to see wild horses running with the train (Wheeler, I., 1955). Fred with gratitude recorded, “We had good health and lots of pleasure on our journey both on train and ship”. (Weyerman, G).

Most of the European immigrants were destined for the Utah towns of Salt Lake City, Provo, Payson, Logan, and Nephi.  About 21 of the weary saints stayed on the train to travel northwest into the new state of Idaho. They arrived in the frontier town of Montpelier on 28 September 1890.  Continuing on by wagon and buggy, the Weiermann family, returning missionaries, and others rolled 10 miles south to the tiny town of Paris, Idaho. Fred remembered, “Elders Stucki and Budge were also glad to get home and and had all things arranged for hospitality.”  (Weyerman, G) (Stocker, J).

In Paris, the red sandstone of the newly dedicated tabernacle looked down on the little town.  This recently settled country of small farms was very different from the noisy crowded city the Weiermann’s were used to.  However, for Annie it may have triggered happy memories of her youth growing up in rural Switzerland.

 

Life in America

1890-1893

 

One of the great motivations for Mormon emigration was to be able to reach a temple, considered the “Lord’s house,” where they could receive ordinances necessary for their own salvation and perform them by proxy on behalf of their deceased ancestors.  This was a priority which Annie acted on immediately. It is recorded that her 10 year old son, Christian Weiermnn, three years deceased, was baptized by proxy in the Logan, Utah temple on 25 September 1890, suggesting someone took his name to the temple before the family finished their journey to their new home in Idaho. (Proxy baptisms were not required for her twin sons and daughter, since they died as innocent infants).

Many people who came to the United States chose to change or “americanize” the spelling or their names.  Fred’s Posterity most often spell their name Weyerman, while the family of Ida has most often spelled their name Weiermann.  In various family records the name can be seen in old records; Gottfried was known as “Fred”, his brother Jacob sometimes as “Jake”, and their mother, Anna Elizabeth, came to be known as “Annie” (1900 census).

Soon Annie and her young son Jacob moved into a rented log cabin owned by a Mrs. Herzog.  Annie began earning money taking in sewing. Ida had the opportunity to live with and work for the beloved Stucki family, who were also boarding the local school teacher.  Ida reminisces, “My teacher lived at the Stucky (sic) home and was very good to help me with my lessons” (wheeler,I., 1955). Once again, Fred boarded away from his family when he went to work on a farm.

Paris, Idaho had been colonized by the Latter-day Saints 17 years earlier and had two LDS wards.  What a change after attending the small branch in Bern! It was wonderful to dwell without persecution among people who believed and lived as they did; however, life was not without challenges.  Everyone had to work hard on the frontier for the survival of their family. It wasn’t easy learning a new language and adjusting to the ways of America. For example the young Swiss girl, Elisa Gygi, whom Ida certainly made friends with on the journey to Utah, recalls how at school she was told her name was to be the more familiar Alice instead of Elisa.  The children made fun of her because her shoes and clothes were different. Subsequently, Elisa took turns with her sister wearing to school a nice dress and some shoes someone gave them. In their poverty the Gygi family happily received groceries, clothes, and candy for Christmas from the Bishop of their ward (Gygi). It isn’t hard to imagine the Weiermann family relying on friends in a similar way until they were able to earn money to support themselves.

On 29 December 1890, several months after their arrival in Idaho, Fred received the ordinance of baptism into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.  Several days later, on New Year’s Day, his younger brother, Jacob, was also baptized. Then, according to the custom at that time for member immigrants arriving in Zion, Annie and her daughter, Idam, were rebaptized.  It was a new year and a new life for the Weiermann family.

Fred traveled 20 miles north to Nounan, Idaho, to work.  There he was also able to procure a log cabin for his mother and brother.  Ida earned money by living in several homes where she helped with chores. Then she said, “Mother got work so I stayed at home the next year.  Then we went back to Paris [Idaho} where mother met Mr Nuffer at a German Conference….” (Wheeler, I. 1955).

 

Family and Marriage

1893-1901

 

A medieval castle overlooks the southern city of [Neuffen], Germany, where 27-year-old Johann Christoph Nuffer married Agnes Barbara Spring early in the year of 1862. Four years later tragedy struck when within 7 months their baby girl and her 26-year -old mother died.  Christoph was now left a widower to raise two sons, John, age 4, and Fred, age 3. (Nuffer, C).

A month later on July 25, 1867, he married Eva Katharina Greiner, who began to raise his sons as her own.  Christoph and Eva were surrounded by their extended family, and were supported by Christopher’s work as a dress goods weaver and a salesman of produce from his vineyard and farm.  Over a span of ten years, they added Regina, Charles, and Adolf to their family. (Nuffer, C).

After listening to the Mormon missionaries, the Nuffer family decided to join The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  They secretly damned a millrace at the rear of the house so the family could be baptized at night, undisturbed by hostile villagers.  To avoid the persecution that immediately followed, they decided to emigrate to Utah as soon as possible. Christoph sold their home and land, and borrowed money from another immigrating family to gather the needed funds.  Notwithstanding all the children catching measles, the family survived the transatlantic crossing in May 1880 on the steamship Wisconsin. (Ironically, the very same ship that in ten years would bring the Weiermann Family to America) (Naef, 1990).

The Nuffers followed many German and Swiss saints who pioneered Providence, Utah, situated just south of Logan.  Like countless others, they started our poor and worked hard to better their circumstances. Thankfully, the older sons Fred and John helped a great deal with the heavy labor.  A year after arriving in Zion, their last child, Mary was born (Naef, 1990).

In the fall of 1883 the oldest son, John, persuaded his father to sell their home and move into southeastern Idaho to homestead.  Two years later they set up another claim. It was a rough life, but his son Charles recalled, “(We) were happy and thanked the Lord for what we had.  Mother would read a chapter from the Bible, we would have prayer an we would go to bed early….We thanked our Heavenly Father for what we had and lived by faith…a I remember we never got discouraged for we felt the Lord was on our side” (Nuffer, C., 1949).

The Nuffer ranch was located northwest of Mapleton, Idaho.  Their farm was cut in half be the main road. On the east side was the land where their homes, stables, and fruit orchards were located.  On the west side of the road was meadow blanketed in lush grass with a creek running through it. This farm from one end to the other was a beautiful place (Naef, 1990).

In the winter of 1893, Eva, Christoph’s wife of 2 years, developed pneumonia and suddenly died within a week.  Her grieving family buried her in the first grave in the new Preston, Idaho cemetery. Christoph could not bear to be alone in the home where he had so happily lived with his wife, so his sons Charles an Adolf ran the farm, “while there father was away most of the summer at Bear Lake and other places” (Nuffer, C).

While away, Christoph, now known as Christopher, met 38 year old Annie Weierman at a German Conference (Wheeler, I., 1955).  These conferences were an opportunity for German speaking LDS converts to socialize using their native language. Through uplifting sermons, singing and dancing the Conferences offered support for immigrants adjusting to their new lives.

By the end of the summer, Christopher and Annie knew they wanted to get married.  They were sealed for Time and Eternity in the Logan temple a few months later on 26 September 1893 (Reber).

The one photograph we have of Annie was likely taken in Logan, “The Temple City”, at this time.  She serenely gazes out of the image, an attractive women with light-colored deep set eyes, high cheekbones, fair smooth skin, and unusually sculpted lips.  Her brown hair is modestly pulled back to the nape of her neck and wrapped into a bun. She is slightly built, probably no taller than her daughter who grew to about 5 feet 2 inches.  Her newly learned English would have been graced with a lilting Swiss accent. She wears a dark tailored dress, which she may have sewn, that has a high collar and mutton sleeves, the height of fashion in 1893.  It could be imagined the jeweled heart brooch pinned to her collar could have been a wedding gift from her husband.

At age 59, Brother Nuffer was considered “ an old widower” by Annie’s children.  (Weyerman, G). Besides love and companionship, he offered their mother a social status and financial security that she had likely never experienced.  Their stone house surrounded by pastures, orchards, and a garden may have reminded her of her rural youth in Switzerland. Because her new husband had lived in the area for many years, she benefited from the reputation he had in the community as a successful farmer.  The Nuffer name was well known in the surrounding towns as Christopher’s oldest son, John, was a trained architect and stone mason. He helped build the Logan temple, and also designed many of the public buildings in Preston, Idaho; including the opera house, bank, and churches. (Nuffer, J).

Annie and Christopher had many things in common, such as firm testimonies that Joseph Smith had indeed been an instrument in the restoration of Christ’s church, and that they were building up Zion in the American west.  They had both followed the same path of conversion, they both spoke German and understood the ways of the “old country”, and they both followed a strikingly similar emigration path. But like many second marriages, there was the potential for tension and competition for loyalty between their children.  As can be imagined, the children and their mother were very close after weathering so many adversities together. Annie’s marriage to Mr. Nuffer may not have been favored by the children. Fred’s feelings were, “Ida and Jacob remained no longer with mother then, but had to look out for themselves, neither I had any place that I could call my home” (Weyerman, G).

During the next year, Fred Weyerman became engaged to a girl named Sally, but this arrangement ended abruptly when Sally eloped with another man.  This seemingly devastating event turned out to be a blessing when Fred met 20 year old Olena Hoth while they were at a party of a mutual friend. Fred and Olena were married by their bishop two weeks later.  “Lena” was raised in a faithful Latter-day Saint family. She was a loving, loyal, and hardworking woman who would have a special role in the life of her mother-in-law. She and Fred loved each other and eventually had a family of 15 children.  (Weyerman, L).

Two months later the newly married Fred and Lena traveled a distance to the Logan temple to be sealed on 26 September 1894 for Time and Eternity.  In preparation for his temple ordinances, Fred Weyerman was ordained an Elder by their beloved Swiss mission president, John U. Stucki. It was a joyful occasion as Lena and Fred received their endowments and were sealed together. (eyerman, G)  Later that same day, Annie must have glowed with happiness as all her children were sealed to her and Christopher Nuffer (Reber, A).

About this same time Annie’s step son, Charles, recorded she made him temple clothes in preparation for his marriage.  He reminisced that, “His new step mother was helpful to us in many ways as we began our married life” (Nuffer, C., 1949).

In 1895 Fred and Lena welcomed a baby and named her Anna Weyerman.  Fred bargained with his stepfather for forty acres of his farmland in Mapleton, so Annie looked forward to seeing her new granddaughter often.  (Weyerman, G).

Near this time, Christopher’s oldest son, John, left to serve in the German/Swiss mission.  Imagine Annie’s feelings of curiosity and nostalgia as she read letters posted from the mission headquarters in Bern, Switzerland.

That winter Ida married David Wheeler.  His father, Calvin Wheeler, was a notable pioneer who settled in the Mapleton area seven years earlier.  David reminisces in his autobiography, “I finally met a girl, Ida Weiermann Nuffer, that I thought just suited me, and finally ask her to marry me.  She wanted me to wait for a while but as I had got a call to go on a mission she finally consented. We married in the Logan Temple on December 4, 1895.  Ida was just a few months past sixteen years of age.” David let six weeks later to serve a mission in the southern states of the USA. Ida supported herself by living with and working for families until he returned two and a half years later (Wheeler, D).

After a year of improving his land, Fred went to make a payment and fix the deeds; however, the sons of “Mr. Christoffer Nuffer would not agree, so [we] had to pull out with empty hands” (Weyerman, G).  It could have been that the sons didn’t know about their father’s deal or agree with it. There was a lot of competition in the area over staking out claims on various parcels of land. Christopher’s sons had also been working the land for years with the hope of ownership.  The emotions raised at that time may have prompted Ida to comment that “We, [Fred, IDa and Jacob], were not welcomed there” (Wheeler, I. 1955).

In the year 1896, Fred and Lena lost a baby named after Fred’s brother, Christian.  In 1898 they also lost a month-old baby girl named Marie Weyerman. That same year Ida’s husband, David, returned from his mission.  Also, Annie’s first husband and father of her children Gottfried Weiermann, died at age 46 in his home town of Wynigen, Switzerland (Wheeler, D.) (Reber,A).

David and Ida moved to the mountains of Western Idaho where David took a contract to cut railroad ties.  On 28 December 1899 Ida gave birth to her first child, Florence, alone in a crude timberland shelter while waiting for a doctor to arrive.  Ida’s only assistance was a blessing from the local missionaries, who afterward sent out into the yard to pray for her (Wheeler, I).

The last years of Annie’s life were marked by marriages, births, harvests, missions, and some deaths.  Mostly it was the day-to-day rhythm of life that generously filled the calendar. After they sold their ranch to the Hull Brothers of Whitney, Christopher and Annie moved to Preston into a two-room frame house near his oldest son, john (Naef, 1990).  The 1900 US Census records the family living in Preston, Idaho, and lists Christopher Nuffer as a farmer, Annie E. as his wife, and Jacob, his single stepson, as a farm laborer. It also notes that Annie can read and write English. Sometime between the 1900 Census and March 1901, Christopher and Annie Nuffer moved to Logan, Utah, which was to be their last home together (Naef, 1990).

By the time, Annie was very ill with “dropsy”, an old term for edema, or fluid retention usually in the feet, ankles and legs (Weyerman, L).  She may have suffered from it for years as it could have been caused by congestive heart failure, diseases of the heart muscle, or some other heart ailment.  As these diseases progress breathing becomes difficult; making walking arduous (Quinn, 2017).

Possibly because Annie needed someone stronger than her aging husband to nurse her, she moved in with her son, Fred.  His wife, Lena, was two months from giving birth. This was a charitable and generous act on Lena’s part, as she was now caring for Annie, a baby and three other children under the age of 5.  (Weyerman, L).

As soon as Annie’s daughter, Ida, recovered enough from the birth of her second child in August 1901, she came to Logan to relieve Lena as her mother’s sole nurse (Wheeler, I. 1955.)    Many Christian virtues were exercised as Lena and Ida worked together to take care of their 6 small children as well as nurse their mother through her last living days. (Weyerman, L).

When November came around, Fred was preparing to leave his seriously ill mother and family of small children to fulfill a call t the German/Swiss mission,  Under what he called “very hard circumstances”, he departed for Switzerland 25 November 1901. This young father knew he would not see his cherished family for over two years.  (Weyerman, G). It was also likely he would never see his beloved mother again. Indeed, she died 1 December 1901, less than a week after his departure for Switzerland. The grieving family buried 4-year-old Annie E. Nuffer in the Logan City Cemetery (Utah Cemetery Inventory).

For an unknown reason, Annie made made the unusual request before she died to have their family’s temple sealing to her second husband, John Christoph Nuffer, cancelled.  She wanted Fred to go to the LDS authorities and arrange for her to be sealed to her first husband, Gottfried Weiermann, and then to have their seven children sealed to them.  This wish was eventually fulfilled in the Logan LDS temple on 8 March 1905, about a year after Fred returned from his mission. (Ida Christensen Arave witnessed the Church temple records at the family history center in SLC) (Wheeler, I., 1955).

Anna Elizabeth Reber’s family was one of 90,000 known Latter-day Saint immigrants who crossed the oceans to America between 1840-1891.  “They had a most unusual success rate; making about 550 voyages, and losing no vessels crossing the Atlantic….These Mormon immigrants were responding to a call to gather with the righteous in a promised land, which they called Zion” (Woods, 2000 p. 74).  Because of courage to act on her faith, a tenacious 3 year old divorced mother of three changed her family’s course into the future. Annie’s decision to join The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and emigrate to the American west where she could help build the Lord’s kingdom on earth has directly influenced hundreds of her progeny.  Her determination not only lifted her family out of poverty, but more importantly pioneered the way toward salvation for untold numbers of future and past generations. For this act of faith, valor, and love we praise and remember her.

 

EPILOGUE

 

John Christoph Nuffer married for the fourth time four months after Annie’s death.  He lived to age 73, dying 12 April 1908 (Naef, 1990).

Fred Weyerman was suddenly killed 9 March 1935 at age 59 when the bike he was riding slipped on ice and hit a bus.  He left nine surviving children and his widow, who would never remarry. His sister Ida and her family kept in touch with “Aunt Lena” and their cousins for many years after his passing.  (Weyerman, G).

Ida Weierman Wheeler bore 10 children and lived to be 80.  She remained a faithful member of the LDS church through a multitude of trials as her she and her husband, David, worked to eke out a living on the frontier of southeastern Idaho.  Her obituary quoted her friends as saying, “She was a bulwark of strength, patience, and loving kindness to all who knew her” (Wheeler, D) (Olsen, L).

Jacob Weiermann didn’t marry until 1908, when he was 25.  His wife died in the 1918 Spanish flu epidemic.  Their two children, Donald and Martha, went to live with their Aunt Ida and Uncle Dave for a time (Arave, I., 2017). Jacob didn’t marry again.  He worked as a miner in Nevada, and died in Utah of tuberculosis 25 January 1945 at age 61 (Weierman, J., 1945).

 

The Church of Jesus Christ of [Latter-day] Saints in Europe

 

President Joseph F. Smith visited

Zurich, Switzerland in 1906, and predicted:

“The time would come when temples to the Most High would be built in various countries of the world.”

The Bern Switzerland Temple was the first temple built where English was not the main local language.  It was dedicated on 11 September 1955 (Petersen, S., 2013).

 

Jonas – Coley Wedding

Herbert and Martha Coley are pleased to announce the marriage of their daughter Lillian to Joseph Nelson Jonas, son of Joseph and Annie Jonas.  They were married 6 September 1916 in Logan, Cache, Utah at the LDS Temple.  The photo above we think was taken around 1930 or so and is not a wedding photo.

Lillian was born the first child of ten to Martha Christiansen and Herbert Coley 26 August 1898 in Lewiston, Cache, Utah.  Both Herbert and Martha were Mormon immigrants to Utah in the 1880’s.  Herbert and Martha both had native land accents from England and Norway respectively.  Herbert was a diligent laborer who would acquire full ownership in their home by 1910.  Martha was a strict and involved homemaker and mother.

Lillian grew up assisting her mother in maintaining the home, large garden, and raising younger siblings.  By the the time she married, she had six younger children who were in the home (three more were yet to be born).  When Lillian was born, the family lived in Lewiston.  By 1910, the family had moved to Wheeler, Cache, Utah (or the 1900 Census did not have Wheeler broken from Lewiston).  The Wheeler area is almost 6 miles directly to the west from Richmond, Cache, Utah as indicated by the link.  We do not know where they lived in Wheeler.

By the time Lillian married Joseph, the family lived at roughly 1950 E 9000 N to the south and east of Richmond.  The remainder of the cabin built by Herbert Coley was still in the middle of a cow pen in fall 2012 on the south side of the road, but was in pretty poor condition.  Ellis Jonas took me there about 2002 and indicated the home to me as where they lived when he was a little boy.  Martha moved in to town, Richmond, after Herbert passed away in 1946.

Joseph Nelson Jonas was the sixth of seven child born to Annetta Josephine Nelson and Joseph Jonas 19 November 1893 in or near Ellensburg, Kittitas, Washington.  About 1896, Joseph’s mother, Annie, went to the Eastern Washington Hospital for the Insane in Fancher, Spokane, Washington (she is listed as Ann J Jonas).  She was in and out of hospitals throughout her life but as Joseph was one of the younger children, he would not have known his mother a little better.

Joseph and Margaret Jonas about 1899

Annie got out of the Eastern Washington Hospital 31 October 1899 and went home to Ellensburg and continued to be a handful for the family.  The family on the 1900 Census in Cle Elum, Kittitias, Washington does not include Annie though and the census that year has Joseph Sr in both Cle Elum and Spokane about two weeks apart in June 1900.  Annie’s sister, Charlotte, visited in 1901.  Due to Annie’s mental and emotional state, and with Joseph Sr’s approval, the whole Jonas family went to Utah to stay temporarily with Annie’s brother, Nels August Nelson.  Uncle August lived in Crescent, Salt Lake, Utah and the Jonas party arrived 3 July 1901 from Washington.

John, Joseph, and William Jonas probably right before moving to Utah in 1901.  The photo is stamped with Ellensburg on the matting.

Joseph Sr for one reason or another went back to Washington with the youngest child Margaret.  Nels suggested it was legal issues, it might have just been the farm that needed attention.  Annie’s issues were such that August and his wife, Fidelia, signed an affidavit of insanity and had her admitted to the Utah State Hospital 1 November 1901.

Joseph Sr had been raised as a Catholic and Annie Nelson had been raised LDS.  Annie decided she did not like LDS men and wanted to marry a Gentile and did so.  The children were raised Catholic in Washington.  Now in Utah, Uncle August made sure the children learned about the LDS faith.  The three boys elected to be baptized LDS on 10 January 1902 in Crescent by their Uncle August in an ice covered Jordan River.  All three were confirmed 12 January 1902 by Jaime P Jensen.  Rosa joined 6 February 1902, also in Crescent under the hand of Uncle August in a hole chipped in the Jordan River.  Margaret did not join as she stayed near her father in Washington.

In 1904, Rosa married a boy, Christian Andersen, from Richmond.  They married in Salt Lake City, Salt Lake, Utah.  They moved to 137 E 100 S in Richmond.  Joseph and his brothers resided with Uncle August until after their mother passed in 1907, then they would regularly and for prolonged periods stay with Rosa in Richmond.  The 1910 Census lists Joseph at home in Crescent.  Read more of Brother John Jonas.

Joseph Nelson Jonas’ Brigham Young College yearbook picture

Joseph attended Brigham Young College in Logan and graduated with his diploma 3 June 1915.  We don’t know much about his time at Brigham Young College but the story goes he wrestled with their team and did so very effectively.  William, Joseph’s brother, was apparently here at school during some overlapping periods.  Joseph became well known for his love of gospel conversations.  He was known for regularly discussing and even arguing the gospel with extra determination.  No hard feelings developed due to his ardor in arguing since others would always agree to a handshake after a good debate.

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

Below is a copy of a picture believed to be from his graduation at BYC.  I have not been able to find the original of this photo or a copy at Utah State University’s archives where the Brigham Young College limited records are located (which are less than cooperative on letting me rummage through all the unknown photos).

In Richmond Joseph and Lillian met when Lillian’s father, Herbert, hired Joseph to help harvest hay.  It was within six months, according to the story, that they were married.  The two were married 6 September 1916 in the Logan LDS Temple.

Joseph registered for the draft of World War I on 5 June 1917.  When he registered, he indicated he was a laborer working for Olaf Neilson, the man who would later become a brother-in-law.  He indicated he was taking care of his wife and father.  He also indicated that his eyes were brown and his hair was brown.  He is listed as short and stout.  Here is his signature from that registration.  According to his family, he stood about 5’6″ and was very muscular.

Joseph’s father passed in Richmond in June 1917.  Lillian gave birth to Joseph Herbert Jonas 14 August 1917 in Richmond.

In 1919, Joseph and his two siblings, Rosa and William, had all moved to Idaho.  They operated a dry farm raising grain in Cleveland, Franklin, Idaho.  Christian and Rosa, along with Joseph, did most of the work on the farm and lived about a mile apart.  William taught at the school in Thatcher, Franklin, Idaho.  The Andersen and Jonas families also kept cows, pigs, chickens, and a sizable garden.  This is the only home Joseph and Lillian Jonas would together own.  Joseph arrived with the cows in Thatcher on 1 April 1919.  Lillian stayed in Richmond due to her pregnancy and while Joseph established the farm.  Communications were slow because mail was held at Thatcher.  Joseph and Lillian only heard from each other when Joseph made it in to Thatcher to pick up the mail or send a letter.

Spencer Gilbert Jonas was born 1 September 1919 in Richmond.  Lillian and the two boys joined Joseph in Cleveland.

The 1920 Census found the Jonas family on 26 January 1920 living on the Cleveland Road outside of Thatcher.

Irwin John Jonas was born 2 September 1921 in Cleveland, but listed as Thatcher.

In 1923 or early 1924, the family then moved to Lewiston, Cache, Utah.  The farm was not working out and he was able to obtain employment with the Utah-Idaho Central Railroad.  Joseph worked on a section gang, just like his father had.  The gang’s job was to repair rotten timbers, hammering in spikes, tightening bolts, and maintaining the rail line.  He worked 7 days a week, sometimes all night, coming home only after a shift was over.

The family lived in a boxcar that had its wheels removed.  A ditch ran under a portion of their home.  Another boxcar nearby was used as a storage shed.  It was here 15 May 1924 that Wilburn Norwood Jonas was born.  Ellis Seth Jonas arrived in this home 6 September 1926, their 10 year wedding anniversary.

Joseph kept a tub of furnace oil in the shed.  It accidentally caught on fire and and Joseph immediately announced to Lillian that the storage shed would burn down and probably their home too.  Joseph, known for being a bit of a prankster, was not believed by Lillian despite his insistence.  Joseph ran back to the shed and picked up the burning tub of fuel and carried it outside the shed.  While he saved the shed and his home, he found himself in Ogden for several weeks with 2nd and 3rd degree burns.  A 9 February 1927 newspaper mention in the Ogden Standard Examiner tells of his being brought to the Dee Hospital on Tuesday the 8th for treatment of burns to the face.

In 1927, Joseph was promoted foreman and oversaw the Quinney line through Wheeler, Thaine, and ending at Quinney (now Amalga).  Later, he accepted another foreman job and moved to the railroad town of Uintah, Weber, Utah where he lived in row housing.  Here is a picture taken while living there.

Picture from Uintah Railroad Camp toward Weber Canyon about 1927

Joseph filed for divorce 2 March 1929 claiming Lillian had deserted him.  The article in the paper indicates they had not lived together since 20 February 1928.  It was during this time on 4 September 1928 that Evan Reed Jonas was born in Ogden.  The divorce was dismissed on 9 March 1929 due to the party’s stipulation.  Joseph again sued on 8 April 1929.  He was ordered to pay $75 a month until the case was resolved.  Joseph and Lillian had the case dismissed after they worked out their issues.

The family later moved into a comfortable home owned by the railroad at 102 17th Street in Ogden, Weber, Utah.  It was a row house, but since he was Section Foreman, the only one with a porch.  Joseph’s father, Joseph, had also served as Section Foreman.  Joseph’s main responsibility dealt with the Huntsville and Plain City/Warren lines.  During this time Joseph and Lillian became known as generous hosts where all visitors were always given more than enough to eat.  Joseph prided himself on the vegetable garden they grew at this home.

On 6 November 1929 Lillian was hit and ran over by an automobile driven by Jack Mobley.  It knocked her unconscious but she quickly regained consciousness.  She spent the night in the hospital and was pretty seriously bruised and lacerated but suffered no broken bones.  Joseph and Lillian admitted they were walking in the middle of the road when the accident occurred.

Joseph and Lillian continued active in the LDS church.  Joseph regularly debated and discussed religion with others.  He was also known to be strict in adherence to principles and expected his children to do the same.  He was not afraid to “switch” his children when they got in trouble or disobeyed.  One thing family members always commented about Joseph was his ability to remember and recall scripture in a conversation and discussion.  Not only that, but when questioned to prove it, he was familiar enough with the book that within moments he could find the chapter and verse.  His familiarity with the bible surprised many people, especially from a railroad laborer.

Joseph and some friends at work after a game of shoes

Lillian Annetta Jonas was born 15 July 1930 in Ogden.  The 1930 Census found Joseph and Lillian at their home on 9 April 1930.  The family was fairly comfortable, they could even afford some of the best appliances.

Joseph Jonas Maytag Warranty Certificate

Joseph was especially glad to have a girl after six sons in a row.

Joseph stands on the back row, second from the left. This is his Section Gang in Ogden.

Joseph and Lillian had a scare in 1931 when their son, Joseph, disappeared for a couple of weeks.  He had been kidnapped by a Mr. J J Nelson and taken to Pocatello, Bannock, Idaho.  He was finally recovered on 20 June 1931.  The man was arrested after he beat young Joseph in public and the police determined Joseph was the missing boy from Ogden.

LeReta Mary Jonas was born 1 August 1932 in Ogden.

On Tuesday, 6 September 1932, a month after LeReta was born and on his 16th wedding anniversary, Joseph went to work as usual.  Joseph knew the dangers of working on the railroad.  It was near lunch time and his son, Norwood, was taking Joseph his lunch. Joseph saw Norwood and got down off a trolley near Lincoln and 20th Street, near the American Can Company plant.  After getting off the trolley, he turned and walked toward Norwood and hit his head on a wire Mr. Child had strung down to do some welding.  (Mr. Child was haunted by this episode the rest of his life because Joseph had warned him about the way he had hung the wire.)  The shock knocked Joseph on his back unconscious and not breathing.  Joseph died immediately but doctors worked on Joseph for over an hour.  Lillian said Norwood was forever affected by the event.  Joseph died at roughly 1:00 PM.

Joseph Jonas Death Cert

Here is a copy of the newspaper notice.

Here is the burial notice.

As a historical side note, here is the front of the train schedule Joseph had in his wallet at the time of his death.

Utah Idaho Central Railroad Company Time Table from 1932-1933

The loss of Joseph dealt the family a hard blow not only with losing a family member, but it also lost them the company housing in which they were living.  Lillian, at the mercy of family, moved immediately back to Richmond to be near her family.  Lillian’s father, Herbert Coley, was appointed administrator for Joseph’s estate.  The railroad paid out roughly $1,200 to Joseph’s estate.  The funeral, transport, and burial of the family cost Lillian $150.  The estate did not begin making regular payments to Lillian until 1934.  Until then, Lillian wrote to the railroad for assistance and help.  The railroad was happy to provide passes for the family to travel.  Unfortunately, the company quit handling company coal so they could not fulfill her requests but allowed the boys to have all the used railroad ties they wanted for firewood.

Lillian’s signature from the back of one of the estate checks written to her.

Fortunately, the money from the estate was enough to purchase a home for Lillian in Richmond from a Melvin & Bernetta Smith for $500.  This gave Lillian a home to raise her children and less worry about providing for her family.  The home was located on the north side of the road at roughly 65 E 400 S in Richmond, Utah.  Herbert and Martha, Lillian’s parents, lived across the street, but their home was a good couple hundred feet from the road.

Lillian made good effort to raise six unruly, now fatherless, boys and two girls.  At Joseph’s death, the children were ages 15, 13, 11, 8, 6, 4, 2, and 1 month.  The Jonas brood were known for being a bit coarse and boisterous as the years went on.  Only a few years would pass before the children would start marrying.

Joseph married Hilma Grace Erickson 17 June 1936 in Logan.

Spencer married Viola “Jimmie” Amelia Cole 5 August 1938 in Farmington, Davis, Utah.

Irwin joined the army 6 July 1939 and immediately left for training.  He eventually married Mary Elizabeth Popwitz 17 June 1943 in Rochester, Olmsted, Minnesota.

Lillian’s portrait after the death of son Irwin in World War II

Evan married Lona Rae Jensen 15 March 1946 in Elko, Elko, Nevada.

Norwood married Colleen Mary Andra 27 September 1946 in Elko.

Ellis married Geraldine Pitcher 17 August 1947 in Elko.

Lillian Driver’s License photo

LeReta married Lowell Hansen Andersen 19 March 1948 in Logan.

Lillian married Ray Laurence Talbot 16 August 1948 in Ogden.

Jimmie, Lillian, and Lona Jonas with Norene and little Spence about 1948 (Lillian has a beet knife in hand, must have been fall)

Lillian spent the new few years in an empty home.  She knew Lorenzo “Ren” Bowcutt over the years.  She accepted his offer of marriage and they were married 12 June 1953 in Preston, Franklin, Idaho.

1953 Marriage License

Lillian and Ren Bowcutt

At the time of her marriage to Ren, she had 22 grandchildren, 21 living.

Lillian Bowcutt in 1959

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

Ren passed away 5 April 1966 in Logan (born 12 May 1883 in Honeyville, Box Elder, Utah).  Ren was buried in Riverside, Box Elder, Utah.

Lorenzo Bowcutt

Lorenzo Bowcutt obituary

Lona and Evan Jonas visiting Lillian in the late 1960’s

Lillian in 1978

She lived in the same home until the early 1980’s when she moved in with her daughter Lillian in Layton.

Front (l-r): Spence, Joe, Ellis, Evan, Paul Ross, Jackie Jonas, Andra Ross. Standing: Jimmie, Hilma, Lillian, Lillian, LeReta, Lona, Colleen. Back: Dan Jonas, Larry Talbot, Unknown hidden, Unknown hidden in 1982

4 generations, Sherlean Talbot Collier, Rebecca Collier, Lillian Jonas Talbot, Lillian Coley Jonas about 1984

Lillian portrait about 1986

Spence, Lillian, Joe, Lillian, Ellis, LeReta, Evan

Lillian died 11 February 1987 in Davis Medical Center, Layton, Utah.  She was almost 88.5 years old.  She was buried beside her husband (55 years later) in Richmond 16 February 1987.

Charles August Nuffer

This is the life history of Charles August Nuffer.  He wrote this autobiography on 28 January 1949.  I have maintained the language and spellings of the original document.  I also wrote a quick overview of his life previously.

This is a brief history of the life of Charles August Nuffer, son of Johann Christopher Nuffer and Eva Katherina Greiner Nuffer. I was born June 18th 1871 in Neuffen, Wurtemberg, Germany. When about eight years old I remember going with my father and mother to a neighbor’s home where the Mormon Elders were holding a meeting, one was Elder John Theurer of Providence, Utah. Some week later, one morning on getting up the floor was all wet, I asked my mother why, all that she said was that they were baptized members of the Mormon Church last night in the Mill Race back of our house.

It was not long after when they began to make arrangements to emigrate to America. After they had sold their home and land to get money for the voyage except what they could take with them, and that was not very much, they still had to borrow a few hundred dollars before they could go. They borrowed this money from the Schweitzer family that had also joined the Church, and came on the same ship with us, also the Lalatin family that had become members of the Church. So in the month of May 1880 they all bid farewell to friends and the land of their birth for the Gospel’s sake, and set sail on the steamer Wisconsin, for New York, U. S. A. (Early in the morning before daylight we left home in a covered wagon for the City of Stuttgart. I was carried in some bedding as I was sick with the measles and was not well enough to walk. From Stuttgart we went to Manheim and from there by boat on the Rhine to Holland and over the North Sea to London, where everybody was sick the next morning but myself, I think I was just getting over the measles.)

Young Charles August Nuffer

Young Charles August Nuffer

The first place we came to was called Castle Garden where all our belongings were examined. They also gave all the emigrants a little book, the New Testament to take along free. In those days most of the streets of New York were paved with cobble rock. After a few days rest we went by train to Collinston. Arriving in Logan we were taken by a family of Saints that gave us food and lodging for about three weeks by the name of Shaggo in North Logan. After three weeks we found a little old log house with one room and a dirt roof and plenty of bed bugs to keep us company. It was on a vacant lot on the street going to the College just east of the canal. We lived there about a month, as father bought a house and lot of Jacob Engle, full of cobble rock where we intended to make a living but we found it hard going. The house was built of small cobble stone and in the winter at night the walls would get all white with frost. Father would go out where ever he could get some work, he worked on the threshing machines and I went with him to help and he got a bushel of wheat a day. Grandma Spring, Regine and I went out in the north field to glean wheat, we would cut the heads off and put them in a sack. Father threshed them out with the flail and it made about sixteen bushels, so about all father could do is to earn for us so that we could have something to eat while John and Fred were earning money to pay for the place.

Fred went to Idaho working on the Railroad and John worked for Mr. Summers a contractor who later recommended to the Stake Presidency to take charge of building the Stake Academy after we had moved to Idaho. It seems to me the Lord had already begun to open up the way for our life’s mission in this part of the land.

When we arrived in Providence the potatoes were in full bloom on the lot which looked good, at least we would have potatoes to eat. We had to get the wood from the hills near by. They had bought a team and an old wagon so we went to get some wood. Father told me to drive, as I drove out the  gate and over a little ditch the tongue dropped down and the reach came up and the team ran away and I fell under the horses feet. I received a broken shoulder and the horses ran around the block and back in the gate, my first time driving a team, at ten years old.

While living in Providence I went to school a few months during the winters of 1881 and 1882 and learned to speak English. My teacher was Mrs. Mary Neaf Maughn, the mother of Mrs. A. E. Hull and Maughn the brush man, and Peter Maughn was the other teacher.

I was baptized when I was 9 years old by Mr. Campbell the grandfather of Mrs. C. M Crabtree of this ward. My sister Mary was born here October 11, 1881. She died in Mapleton, Idaho, October 5, 1900. I look back to my young days while living in Providence, and I still have many friends there, but my parents had to look forward to some other place for our future and to find the place for our life’s mission. It seems the Lord prepared the way. One of our neighbors, a German family had a daughter married to John Miles who was living at Wormcreek and she wanted him to move to Providence where her mother lived so we traded places. We lived in Providence from June 1880 until October 1883. So from here we go to Idaho the place the Lord had chosen for us to build our future home.

We loaded what we could on our wagon and Mr. Miles the rest on his as he helped us move and all together it was not very much, but it was all the poor teams could pull over the kind of roads there were at that time. On arriving at Wormcreek we found a place with a house on it, a log house about 14 by 16 feet, all one room, with dirt floor, no fence around it and no plowed land, and when it rained the mud would run down the walls and we had to set pans on the bed to catch the rain. Father, Mother, Regine, Adolph, Mary and I lived there then. Fred was out in Oregon but he came later that fall with two big horses and John was working in Logan, I think with Mr. Summers. During the winter John rode the biggest horse to Providence as he was going with Louise Zollinger whom he later married. The horse got warmed up too much and got a sore leg and they finally had to shoot him. John and Fred were in Providence most of that winter as their grandmother lived there and Fred was going with Anna Rinderknecht.

As we did not have much hay we bought two stacks of straw from Jap Hoarn and Tom Miles, the first lived in Richmond and the other in Smithfield as they were only on their farms in the summer. The snow as so deep Regine and I filled some big sacks we had brought from the Old Country with straw and tied on the hand sled and pulled it over the rested snow for home. The Miles were the only family that were living on the Creek besides us on what is now known as the Webster Ranch, and we lived on what is now known as the Fred Wanner Place. The Miles Family ran out of feed for their cattle so in March they shoveled a path over to the south side of the hills where the wind and sun had taken the snow off the grass and it had started to grow. When they drove the cattle through the path you could not see them because the snow was so deep. So with the help of the Lord we pulled through the Winter of 1884. In the Spring John and Fred came back and began to fence and plow the land and plant crops. Later John went over to Oxford to the Land Office to file on the land for himself as he had helped most to pay for the home in Providence. As father wanted a homestead of his own, one Spring day it was on the first of May he sent over the divide between Worm creek and Cub River to find a place where he could make a home for the rest of the family. When he returned he said that no one had gone over there before him that spring, as the snow had not melted yet. That was in the spring of 1885, so during that summer John and Fred were raising the crops and helped father build a log house and we put in some crops so we have something to eat for the winter. As we did not have much of a team they had Joe Nilsen come up from Preston to plow some along the Creek, he had a big team and a sulky plow. But that was not all, we had to fight squirrels and grasshoppers. What we raised that summer had to see us through the Winter, and it was not any too much.

Fred went up Wormcreek and got some logs and had them sawed at the Moorhead and Thomas Sawmill on the Cub River. But we found that there was only enough for the roof and none for the floor and ceiling. They had lumber at the sawmill but they would sell us any for wheat and the store in Franklin did not pay cash for it. Father had already laid some logs down to put the floor on so we just had to step over them all winter but maybe it was a good thing as we got the warmth from the earth as we only had a lumber roof over us 14 feet to the top and just a four hole cook stove to warm the house and wood to burn, and it was not all dry. Still we were happy and thanked the Lord for what we had. Mother would read a chapter from the Bible, we would have prayer and we would go to bed early. (Clayborn  Moorhead told me some years later that Joseph Thomas intended to take up my Father’s Homestead but he was not old enough then so my father was first. He said those Germans can’t make a living there, they will starve to death and I will get the land anyway. But, I think he did not know as much as he thought, he didn’t know we had put our trust in God.)

On Christmas Day 1884 Father sent me over to John’s (Grandma Spring was keeping house for him that winter), after twenty-five pounds of flour. The snow as up to my knees. After that flour was gone we had to grind the wheat in the coffee mill as no one went to the store anymore that winter until Father and I each carried a basket of eggs to the store in Franklin on the 2nd of March, over two feet of :frozen snow to buy some groceries. We could not busy much as we had no money. Mother raised some sugar beets in the garden, as we had no sugar she but some beets in the oven and baked them and put them in a cloth to get some syrup to make her yeast. She cut some up in little squares and browned them in the oven and ground them up to make coffee. Mother would also put the wheat in the oven to dry and brown it just a little so it would grind better and we used it for bread and mush. Finally the cow went dry so we had no milk for some time and no sugar, but we got through the winter without any sickness. We thanked our Heavenly Father for what we had and lived by faith in our Heavenly Father as we had no Church organization of any kind at that time there.

It seems the Lord wanted a tried people to build the Valleys of the Mountains for when we began to raise crops that we might have food for the next winter, we had to fight the squirrels and the grasshoppers. We worked with faith that did not falter and as I remember we never got discouraged for we felt the Lord was on our side.

April 1949

When I was going on 21 years of age I was looking for a homestead to file on. East of my father’s place, about 40 rods from our house in a hollow there was a nice little spring by a service berry bush coming out of a sandstone formation, where I decided to make my home. Not being of age to take up land, I moved a little log building with a dirt roof on it, that my father had used for a granary, onto the land. I had a bed in it and would sleep there some nights. I prayed to the Lord that he would protect it for me, that no one would file on it as I was not yet twenty-one, and not old enough to take up land. There was a man by the name of George Kent, down on the river. His wife told me there was a relative of theirs in Lewiston, Clyde Kent, who was going to jump that land, as they called it those days. I told them that I did not believe he would be that mean. I wanted to start life for myself as soon as I was 21. So on June 17, 1893, I was on my way to Blackfoot, Idaho by train in company of John McDonald, whose fare I paid to Blackfoot, and return as a witness for me as to my age. There was no bridge across Bear River to Dayton at that time. We stopped at Pocatello over night; it was not much of a town at that time, mostly railroad shops and saloons. We arrived at Blackfoot on June 18th, on my 21st birthday to file on that homestead. When I told them at the land office of the land I wanted to take up, they told me there was a man there some months before, the man I spoke of. Not giving up hope altogether we looked over the plat, and I found there was 40 acres all to itself, not filed on. After looking things  over for awhile I said to Mr. McDonald that is the land my cabin and the spring of water is on; so I filed on it and returned home. Arriving on Sunday afternoon my mother said there was a man and his wife looking at your place, as they thought that I had lost out. My family with me felt to thank the Lord that I had a place to build my home on.

As Fred and I started to quarry sandstone on my father’s place that fall, I hauled some sandstone in the Spring to build me a house, but during that winter 1893, my mother came down with pneumonia and died within a week on the 26th of February 1893. She was buried in the Preston Cemetery. She was about the 2nd or 3rd person buried there, as the new cemetery had been started that year.

The following Spring the Wanner family came to Mapleton, from Germany, on my birthday June 18th, which was a Sunday. This was the first time that I had seen my life’s companion, as they came to my brother Fred’s place, where they lived until they found a home to live in. Christine was their oldest daughter and I fell in love with her at first sight. My sister Regine was home again from Montana, her husband had left her, she had a little girl Katy. Christine stayed with her until she went to Millville to work for the Pittgins family for about three months for seventy-five cents a week and her board and some old clothes. When she left they gave her $6.00 and she gave it to her father as he told her she had to earn some money yet before she got married.

That fall as I started to haul stone to build a house, besides taking care of my father’s farm—Adolph helping me, as my father was away most of that summer to Bear Lake and other places, because he didn’t feel like staying home after Mother died. When he came back he brought with him Sister Weirman, and married her in the Logan Temple. Well, during this time I had started to build my house. We dug a hole in the ground and poured water in and mixed it. That was what we used to lay up the walls, and the house is still standing. By New Years the house was finished and cleaned, but we had no furniture or anything else to put in it, but still we made our arrangements to get married. We were baptized by Heber Taylor on 26 June 1894 in Cub River and confirmed by Edward Perkins at Mapleton on the 27 Jun 1894. We were married 1st February 1894 in the Logan Temple by Marriner W. Merrill, president of the temple. (Read Christina’s biography here.)  We made the trip by team and wagon, as there was no snow on the ground in the valley. We put our team in the Tithing Barn, as the Lalladine family were the caretakers. After returning from the temple, for supper we were invited by Charles O. Card at their home on depot street, as Mary Wagstaff’s mother’s sister was working at their home, and we spent our first night with them. He is the Card after which the city of Cardston, in Canada was named, as he later moved to Canada.

As I have said before, after we got the house finished we had nothing to put in it and had no money to get married with, so I asked Grandpa Wanner if he would loan me $10.00 and I would pay him back when I raised a crop. He let me have the money with which we bought our marriage license, and a few dishes for the house. We borrowed a table and an old set of knives and forks from my sister Regina, as she did not need them at that time. We returned them again when she got married to George Wanner a year or so later. We paid Grandpa in seed grain the next fall with many thanks to him for his kindness. For our wedding present Grandpa and Grandma gave us a bedstead to sleep on, as we had no furniture. I nailed some boards together for a cupboard for dishes. Stepmother Weirman Nuffer made some of our temple clothes and the garments were made out of factory. She was helpful to us in many ways, so that was the beginning of our family life in a humble way and we were happy together.

As Adolph was still at home, he and I ran my father’s farm, and I fenced my 40 acres, and started to plant some of it as fast as I could break it up. I helped Fred in the sandstone quarry to get a little money to buy a few things till we raised a crop. The Wanner family bought John’s place on Worm Creek for $2000 and became very successful farmers.

Will pass over a year or so till the first child Clara was born 10 August 1895, Louise 19 Nov 1896, Anna the 8 January 1899, Bertha 9 Jun ‘900, Fred 21 October 1901, Joseph 18 May 1904, Ida 15 Jun 1906. These children were all born in Mapleton.

From here on my main occupation was farming and quarrying sandstone. I cut grain with a binder for people in Mapleton at one dollar an acre. In the winter I worked with Fred on the Mink Creek Canal, blasting the rock with black and giant powder, making the canal from seven to ten feet wide. I worked out four hundred dollars in ditch stock and finally sold it for forty cents on the dollar. I received $1.50 a day in cash so that is all I got for my work, and we had to sleep in a tent in the wintertime and cook our meals but it build the canals so the people would get water for their land and could raise crops.

When Fred moved to Preston I took over the stone quarry. I was also ditch rider for the Preston Cub River Canal for a number of years, making a trip a day while the canal was full, at a dollar a trip. While runnig the quarry I delivered stone for some of the Preston business buildings and for the Lewiston Meetinghouse. During this time we were also taking care of John and Fred’s grandmother for a number of years. As the family was getting larger I built another room on the house as mother was busy taking care of Grandma Spring, and John was going on a mission to Germany. They decided to send Grandma Spring to Blackfoot where she died a year of so later. I think it was in the year of 1897, when Mother and I drove to Blackfoot with the team and buggy to take the rest of our homestead, that we had lost by that Mr. Kent beating me to it before I was of age.  While at Blackfoot we called at the hospital to see Grandma Spring.  They told us she had died before Christmas the year previous, and they had sent no word of her death to anyone.  A few words more while at the land office it seems the Lord had always prepared the way for us.  As we entered the land office the first person we met was President George Parkinson, who knew us well.  Without his help our trip might have been in vain, as it was difficult to take up land when another party had filed on it.  At the time we made this journey this was the frontier of the west.  Where Downey is now there was not one hours and from Pocatello to Blackfoot was all desert, not a house, only the Indian Reservation.  I carried my shotgun with us for safety.  We could say much more, but it would take too long to tell it.

From here on it made a lot of work; to fence the land and break it up and get it ready to farm and to make a living for the family.  From here on I will begin tow rite of some of my work in the Church for which we have left our native land.  On April the 19th, 1896 the Stake Presidency, George Parkinson, Brother Cowley, Solomon Hale came to Glendale to form a German Organization, so we could hold meeting every two weeks, as there were many families Swiss and German that could not speak English. Addison Wagstaff was Ward Clerk and took the minutes. Brother Jacob I. Naef was chosen as President. It was not until 5 Jul 1896 that his counselors were chosen, Brother Jacob Schneider, first, Charles A. Nuffer second counselor. We held our meetings in the homes of the people on their farms and wherever they lived. They traveled with farm wagons a distance of20 miles one way to Mink Creek, Weston, Riverdale, Whitney, Treasureton, Mapleton, Preston and Glendale, there places were we held meetings. Some years later when Joseph Moser became President, I became one of his counselors, also brother Kern. After some years John asked to be released and I became President ofthe Branch on the 21st of March 1915, with Brother Kern and Alma Moser as my counselors. During this time we held the meeting in the old tithing office, later in the new one at Preston, until the 13th of August 1916, we held our last meeting. During the later part of the war some of the people of Preston made it very hot for the German speaking people yet most of them were Swiss, but that did not make any difference. So President Geddes came to me and asked me not to hold anymore meetings. After the war many of the German people had moved away so we never started to hold the meetings anymore, and I never was released to this day. That closes up this chapter of the German Saints of this part here, so I will go on to some of my other duties in the Church. Making in all twenty years that we held German Meetings with the people of Franklin Stake.

Now going back to the year 1899, when I ws called as second counselor to Bishop Edward Perkins in the Mapleton Ward. When Orron J. Merrill moved to Preston I took his place and his son Preston my place in the Bishopric. I was chairman of the School Board for six years, and Brother Merrill was the Clerk, and when he moved away his son was appointed in his place. While on the school board I had a schoolhouse built in the upper end of the District, with Harrison R. Merrill as the first teacher. That way the children of the upper end would not have to go so far to school. The children in the lower part of the Ward met in the old meeting house. While I was in the Bishopric Brother 0. J. Merrill was the Ward Clerk and clerk of the school board. After his father moved to Preston, 0. P. Merrill, his son, was the Ward Clerk and clerk of the School Board. Speaking of schools the first school that was held in Mapleton was in the winter of 1886, when Bishop Perkins went to Lewiston to school. He let the people of the Ward have a school room so they all got together and employed Hirum Johnson as their teacher. All children from seven years up to thirty, married men and young ladies went to school there all in one room. Some came from Franklin and Nashsville. I was feeding cattle for Harrison Thomas that winter and lived with Olive Sweet, she had to board me as she was living in their house, and they paid $150 for my schooling and $.45 for a book. I had to chop all the wood for the family. I was fifteen years old. This school house which was built by the efforts of the people of the upper part of the District, was the first schoolhouse built in Mapleton Ward with H. R. Merrill as its first teacher.

In 1899 in June I was ordained a High Priest by George Parkinson, President of the Oneida Stake, and we labored unitedly together in the Ward. Bishop Perkins was very kind to prepare me for this work, and in his home he read the Book of Mormon and the Doctrine and Covenants to me. So, that I may more fully understand the Gospel, and that I might be an example to the people of the Ward, and he taught me the Law of Tithing, and that we may be worthy to receive all the blessings that the Gospel had in store for His faithful children. So on the 21st of February 1900, we were recommended to the Logan temple to receive our second washing and anointing by President Morgan, a blessing that not so many have received, which is the greatest blessing anyone can receive in the House of the Lord, for which I have tried to be thankful all the days of my life.

In the Spring of the same year, as there was a severe drought in Southern Utah, President Lorenzo Snow went to St. George, and met with the people there and told them if they would pay an honest tithing the Lord would bless them and send rain to save their crops. As the church was in a very bad financial condition at that time. So on returning to Salt Lake City President Snow called a special meeting of all the General Authorities of the Church to meet in the temple on the Law of Tithing, on June the 2nd at 9:00 A. M. And as Bishop Perkins had taken so much interest in me he asked me to go with him, only the Bishops were called. All the General Authorities spoke in the Meeting, after which they all shouted “Hosanna to the Lord”. We were in the Temple from 9:00 A.M. until5:00 P.M. The meeting was in the room known as the Celestial Room. At the close of the meeting President Snow said, “If you will go home and pay an honest tithing, the Church will be freed from debt, and the Lord will forgive you of your past neglect, and I promise you your homes will never burn.” From that time forth I always paid a full tithing as long as I lived on this earth. This blessed land of America, which God has blessed above all other lands. So these are some of the blessings that your mother and I received through Bishop Perkins being so kind to me. In appreciation for the blessing the Lord has given us, I desired to do my full duty in my calling with the people of this ward, and we had many opportunities to be called out day and night in time of sickness and death, among the people. We labored together eight years and had much joy in our labors.

I have given you some of the ways I made a living for the family. To make a living during this time and to care for the family, I farmed, raised hogs and horses, milked cows, separating the milk and selling the cream, and making butter getting $.10 a pound at the store. The most I received while selling cream from six to seven cows was $35 a month. I also sold cream separators to the people of Franklin and Preston to make a little extra money. I cut grain with the binder for the people in Mapleton. I quarried stand stone for the Lewiston Meetinghouse, and some buildings in Preston. The Riter Brothers Drug Store and other buildings. For the hogs we received $4.00 per hundred.

I had now lived on Worm Creek, Mapleton twenty-four years and I have related only some parts of my life. During this time in my life it was necessary for us to look toward the future, and seven children had been born to us in our first home. As the family got larger I built room onto the house. During this time my sister Mary was working for a family in Logan and as she was not feeling so well she came home and we needed someone to help mother as Bertha was a baby at that time. But in September Mary came down with pneumonia and died the 5th October 1900.  She had been born in Providence, Utah the 11th of October 1881. At that time most of our children were sick with scarlet fever, but they got well with our care and the help of the Lord as it was hard to get a doctor.

Before leaving Mapleton, speaking of building I feel to give some information pertaining to my father after his third wife died, Mrs. Weirman. He married Mrs. Shaub of Logan and bought the house of her son Gene. He lived in Logan a few years but he wanted to come back to Mapleton again and wanted me to build him a house in my orchard. I bought some sawed square log from Kall Wheeler, and build him the house. He paid for the materials and I did the work free, and I moved them up from wagon by team, but it was only a few years until he wanted to move again. He had already lived in Preston twice before. The first time where Ernest Porter lived, and before that out where Jim Smart’s place is. I then began to haul tone to Preston and John laid up the walls in 1907. In all the houses he lived in were one in Providence, two in Logan, one in Worm Creek, three in Mapleton and three in Preston and he died the 121h Aprill908. When I started to build my home after his death I moved his wife back to Logan with team and wagon.

I will pass over some years as things went on as usual. We began to look to the schooling of the children, as there was not much opportunity in Mapleton. I bought five acres of land in Preston and during the winter of 1905 and 1906, I began to haul sandstone from the quarry for the building of our home. I also planted trees in the spring of 1906, as there was nothing on the land whatever, only a fence around it. So this was the plan for us to move to Preston, not to improve ourselves better financially, but to make it better for Mother and all of us.

The Bishop was called to go on a mission, and I was in line for Bishop as things looked at that time. Mother was already alone so much with the family and I had so many meetings to go to at night. I was still in the German Organization, and I was so far away. I had from two and a half to three miles to ride on horseback to meeting to the home of Brother Merrill or the Bishop. In all the eight years I labored in the ward only one ward was held in our home. I leave the rest for you to answer whey we made this move which needed much consideration and prayer, and the guiding care of our Heavenly Father in making this move.

So in the Spring of 1907, after renting the farm to Hart Wheeler of Mapleton, I built a frame house sixteen feet by twenty feet to have a place to live in. Also, we had a tent for some of the children to sleep in, so I would have the family with me while I was there building our home. I built the barn a place for the cows and chickens. I hauled logs for the bam and most of the lumber for the house from the sawmill on Cub River during the summer. In October of 1907, when the frame house and the bam were built we all moved to Preston. We were all glad especially the children, when they could see the train and hear it when it came to turn on the Y. So this was a great change for all. This was the first time I lived in town, since we left Providence. So in the Spring of 1908, as soon as the snow was gone I began to dig the foundation for the house and laying up the walls; doing the work myself. Our second home in which all the children were brought to men and womanhood. This was the most happy period of our life. In order to get the large stones on the wall we had to roll them up some logs, as they were too heavy to lift. I hired Adolph to help with the work for a while, but before I got the walls finished I took down with Typhoid Fever. Adolph and Mr. Peterson finished the walls. This was in the latter part of September, and I did not know any more of the building of the house till it was finished so the family could move in. Preston was a baby then and I remember that he cried so much it must have been hard for Mother. I can’t give much detail concerning my sickness, only that Mr. States was my doctor and a lady Mary Bodily was my nurse. Brother Arnold Shuldhess, the editor of the German paper “Beobachter”, was up from Salt Lake City and came and administered to me when I first took sick. When Miss Bodily had to go some other place they got Maude Stocks for my nurse. They gave me very little food; mostly brandy and whiskey, as food is most dangerous in Typhoid, at least that was the way they used to do for Typhoid Fever at that time. I never used liquor at other times in my life.

Before I forget, my sister Regina, about the year 1886 also came home from Logan where she had been working and came down with Typhoid and there were no doctors here as there was no town of Preston here then. If there had been we would not have had any money to pay them; so her mother treated her the best she knew with tea from different herbs. Our prayers and faith were in God and she lived and got well, so we did the best we could under different ways and conditions. I will again go on with my own case. The latter part of October as I remember, I began to improve in health and they began to give me some food, as I was getting very hungry and I thought I would not get enough to eat anymore. Mother was very much afraid she might give me too much to eat, as that is the most dangerous time of the disease. The first time I went out doors again was the beginning of November. The trees were all yellow and I went up town to vote on November 6th 1908. I am sorry to say that this was not the end of our grief and sickness, so we had to start all over again and as I write these few lines it fills my eyes with tears when I think of that dear Mother that never gave up, that watched over you all night and day with faith in God for a better day. The Lord heard our prayers and she had the privilege to bring you up to manhood and womanhood, but that was not the end of our trials as stated before.

When Clara and Anna came down with the fever we had to get Doctor Emery, as Doctor States lived in Franklin. As they had to come most every day and we had a nurse that did not belong to the Church. She stayed at Preston Rooming house and we had trouble with her as I will tell you later when I get to that. By this time we were living in the new house. I think it was sometime in December. But, under the care of the new doctor and the new nurse the girls did not show any improvement. It was not long till they came down with pneumonia and week after week they did not get any etter. The nurse had a lady friend that visited some time in the evening. One day I found some empty whiskey bottles in a pile of stone that was beside the house. I at once told the Doctor we did not want his nurse any longer. He said he had a Nuffer barn place in Weston for her. He said that we would be responsible if something went wrong with the girls. I told him I was willing to take the responsibility. The nurse left and shortly she came down with the fever at the rooming house. It was only a week or ten days till the girls were up on their feet again. It was now the latter part of February and what a relief it was especially for that dear Mother, when all could rest again.

Now during my sickness some of the people of Mapleton had been told by Doctor States that there was not much hope for me to get over my sickness and mother heard of it. She prayed to the Lord saying that if he would spare my life she promised Him she would let me go on a mission, under almost any conditions whenever called. So during the summer of 1909, I worked at whatever I could find to earn something to take care of the family, and to keep out of debt, and fmd planted what we could on the lot for the next winter. Sometime if February of 1910, I received a letter from Box B, as it was called in those days, when anyone was called on a mission. I did not know anything as to a call for a mission when I received the letter stating if I could accept this call, if I could be in Salt Lake City on April the 18th. I do not know if Bishop H. Geddes had told the authorities of the Church anything of my financial condition or not, as I remember he did not to me; which was very limited at this time nor did he tell me anything about being called on a mission. We did not hesitate for a moment, but told them that I would be there at the above date. As we had no porch on the south side of the house I went to work on it before leaving. I also built a shed for the white top buggy so it would be under shelter while I was away. On the 15th ofFeb 1910, Laura was born at home with Mrs. Nancy Beckstead in attendance, which made it still harder for me to leave you all alone. I also planted some garden before leaving. So in the morning of April the 18th, I was on my way, Clara going with me to Salt Lake as mother did not want me to leave alone. That way she could hear from me just a little longer, Clara was then nearing 15 years of age and Laura was going on two months.

As I remember I was set apart for my mission by Jonathan C. Campbell to the Eastern States Mission to labor under Ben E. Rich. After a few days in Salt Lake I left with other Elders for New York City, stopping at Des Moines, Omaha, Chicago, Buffalo and on to New York. After a few days there I was appointed by Ben E. Rich to labor in West Pennsylvania, with Elder Hyrum Nelson from Cleveland, Idaho. I was then sent by way of Philadelphia to Pittsburgh with Heber D. Clark as our president. We were then sent out in the country two hundred miles tracting on the way, where there was a Branch of the Church in Buck Valley. It would be too much to give my missionary account, it is written in my missionary journals, those red books in this home. As we met in Conference in Pittsburgh, with Ben E. Rich and all the Elders in February of 1912 I was released to return home. It was most difficult for mother to carry on any longer with the large family as she had to borrow most of the money while I was away, as it was a dry season, and Mr. Wheeler, the one that bought the farm did not make any payments and the Bank charged 12% interest.

When I arrived home Laura, it was on her birthday, was two years old. One great blessing while on this mission was that I did not have one day of sickness and Mother and the children all had good health, for which we thanked the Lord with all our hearts. It was February the 15th 1912 when I arrived at home in time to make arrangements for a new life in caring for the family again, and to pay off the money we had borrowed. But, before I could do that I had to borrow some more to buy a team with which to go to work. I borrowed $700 off of Grandpa Wanner; the team cost $300. On the 15th July 1912, I purchases thirty two acres from Mr. Charles Nelson west of town on time payment, at one hundred dollars per acre. I then planted it in hay and grain, and the same year a hail storm came and destroyed the crop of wheat. I then went hauling sand and gravel for a living, and helped Uncle John with the haying.

On returning home I was asked by President Joseph Geddes to visit the wards of the Stake with the High Council for two years. It was before the Stake was divided. I also was asked to take my place again in the German Organization Meetings, one or two times a month. During this time I was serving as a Ward Teacher, a Sunday School Teacher, and quite a number of years as the class leader of the High Priests group in the ward, at Priesthood meeting, so I had plenty to keep me busy. I was also the ward Chairman ofthe Anti-Tobacco and Liquor campaign. During the First World War, I was called as a Counselor to Peter Hanson, who was Stake Superintendent of the Religion Class until the Stake was divided. In all six years, once or twice a month on Sunday or week days we would go out in the Ward to find someone to teach Religion Class in the schools, or to visit the schools that had teachers as we found it necessary. I was called as Chairman of the Genealogical Organization of the Ward. When the Ward was divided, and your mother and I worked in the Genealogical Organization. We were released when Orion Jensen was Bishop. During the years of 1923,24,25, and 26, I was called to baptize the children of the Franklin Stake. Charles F. Hawkes had done that work before. Also, at times I was called on to baptize children of the 2nd Ward at the Stake House. While in the old Church House I was a teacher in the Sunday School in the different departments at different times.

On October 30, 1916 I bought the farm in Dayton of June Jensen, Sam Morgan and H. A. Peterson of Logan, at the price of $5,500 so we would have work for the boys, so they would not have to go away from home to find work. For a number of years we had to dry farm, before we could get water. We finally got thirty shares at $130 an acres. As the land was all under bond it cost me $800 to buy the rest of the land out and we had to pay $7 per acres to get a ditch thru the Eccles Farm. I traded the land in Preston to Sam Morgon at $125 an acre that helped some. I had to clear off some thirty-five acres of sage with axes all by hand. That was all we had to do that kind of work for number of years. I had the cabin on the west hill of Peterson’s and had to carry the water from a spring below the hill in Petersons’ for cooking and vitrolling the wheat. I had to get a right-of-way from Brother McCarry at a spring to water the horses. We also had a stable on the hill for the horses. Usually we would fill our grub box on Monday morning and stay till Saturday and Mother and the girls would take care of things at home during the week. When we got water on the farm we moved up on the flat to the west of the farm. We went down the creek for water to use. We then built another room and Fred moved over with his family for the summer to help with the work as we rented the Miles farm and a year or so later Miles bought a house that we moved on his farm, for Fred and his family to live in. Later on we built another room onto it.

Preston helped us with the work after school closed and Joseph moved in up stairs when he got married, working with Roy at the car bam at the U. I. C. Railroad. In 1929 we built a house on the farm for Joseph to move in, as we had more work all the time. The cost of the house was $1250. Then came the crash of 1929, when wheat dropped to 30 cents a bushel and hogs to $4 per hundred and beets $4 a ton. To pay our debts and pay for the house all of us got together with a lot of hard work and the help of the Lord we pulled through. We also sold some hay for $5 per ton. In the Spring while the boys were thinning the beets, I was doing the summer fallowing, with the gang plow, with six horses; for a number of years. We started out with only three horses on the farm for a number of years. We could not raise hay without water. We had to haul the hay for the horses from town. Also, for the headers Mother would come over and cook for them. At the first harvest we did not have very much, and I was away trying to earn some money to pay for the heading. Louise and Preston drove over and brought them their dinner. I also went up to Glendale one summer and helped Fred Wanner and Hyrum Jensen get up their hay. They gave me a ton of hay for three days work with wagon and team and I would haul it over to the farm. That was during the early part of our farming that I am writing on this page some of our hardships.

In order to make some money to pay for the farm and to live, as we only raised grain, as we had no water on the farm, I would work on the header and do stacking. Also, I would go out with Fred Nuffer and Fred Steuri doing cement work for school houses, and other buildings. I worked for Joseph Moser as a carpenter on the Gymnasium, also did cement work, while Fred was hauling gravel. I hauled the first load of gravel for that building, also hauled gravel for the Jefferson School Building. I worked for Struve on the 4’h Ward Meeting house doing cement work on many houses in town. I had my team hauling gravel when they built the first sidewalks in Preston, until they were finished, then to the City Water Reservoir. When the Utah-Idaho Central Railroad was built I worked on the cut south of town ten hours a day for $2. Again I helped Joseph Moser when he built the beet dump, the high line by Tom Clayton’s place. I then got a job on the dump with the Sugar Co., loading beets on the cars. The next two years I was tare man for the company, and got lots of scoldings from the farmers, but the company treated me well. They used to pile any beets on the ground in large piles in different places, and haul them on the cars later. So, the boys Fred, Joseph and I would haul beets the rest of the fall. We would leave right after daylight and work until dark, so when Sunday came we were glad to get a short rest and go to Church, or I would be called to visit some Ward in the Stake in the interest of religion class to get in into the school, and on Monday back to work.

Going back to the farm work, in the fall of 1931 and 1932 I bought a herd of sheep to fatten, then took them to Denver to market to help get out of debt. While Fred was living on the Miles place and Joseph on the farm there was some difficulty, I do not know what it was, and Joseph moved back to town. Fred moved into the house on the farm and young Fred Wanner moved in where Fred had lived, as he had him working for him in 1936. I bought a tractor to do the farming, and did the summer fallowing with it that Spring. As Charles Nelson was janitor of the Ward House he asked me if l did not want to take the janitor job. So I had another job, which the girls helped me with at $11 a month, but it all helped. That was during the First World War.

Thinking it was time to retire from farming at the age of sixty-six I sold the farm in 193 7 to my son Fred. In Jun 1937 I bought the Dodge car and the Gamble home. The next year the McCarry farm. The summer of 1937 we went on a trip, Mother and I, Louise, the twins, and Joe and Gretta to Los Angeles, visiting Jim Cummings and Fred Nuffer. From there to San Francisco, then on Highway 1001 , the Redwood Road to Portland, Oregon up the Columbia River to Boise, Idaho and back. I had to come home after over two weeks absence. Mother and I had been to Los Angeles by train to visit Jim and Anna, when they lived at Beverly Glen, and again when she died the 25 January 1928. As given before the third time to California and again to San Francisco to the fair. Mother and I, Louise, Joe and Gretta, when Gretta took sick. After Mothers death, myself and Louise, Ida and Gilbert, went to Los Angeles the fourth time. Later when Jimmy Cummings was married I went on the bus to his wedding. Some years after Mother’s death, I and Louise and the twins went on a trip by car to Zions National Park, Cedar Breaks, and Bryce’s Canyon and to Yellowstone. The first time we went to Yellowstone National Park with Mother, Louise, Roy and Clara. The last time we went Louise, the twins, Donald and Joe and Getta and I went. We also went a few time to Nephi to the Roundup.

These years while Ward Chairman of the Genealogical Committee, we assisted the Stake in getting up large excursions to the temple on the U. I. C. Railroad, every month. All during our married life we would go to the temple every years as often as we were able to go. We carried on research work through the Genealogical Office in Salt Lake City, and we received sheets of names on the Nuffer and Wanner line, and my mothers Griener line, all at our own expense. I have the sheets in my trunk with the work all completed as you will find them there.

For twenty years after buying the Chevrolet car and the Dodge, we went to the Temple, whenever we could once or twice a month with a full car of people from the 2nd and 1st ward, until I took sick in December 1948. Since then I have been to the Temple three times. I am writing this May 11, 1950.While going to the Temple one February morning early it was snowing and the road was slick. I had with me in the car Mother, Louise, Brother and Sister Rindlisbacher and Mrs. Clarence Corbridge. As I was getting near the Utah line I felt there was trouble ahead. I was going about twenty-five miles an house, when George Wanner passed me. When half a mile over the Utah line the car struck a bump in the road and turned over in the barrow pit then over on its side. At that time a car came and took all but Mother and I and Louise to the Temple. Then came Orion Jensen and took Mother and Louise to the Preston Clinic to be examined by the doctor. I stayed with the car until Petterborg came. The damage on the car was over a hundred dollars.

Some months later Mother began to have pains in her back and kept getting worse as time went on. During July she got so bad I took her to the Preston Hospital for an xray. She was there for a week, and Doctor Cutler said we had better take her to the L. D. S. Hospital in Salt Lake as they could not do anymore for her there. We went to Salt Lake July 24th we were told that she had tumor of the spine. She was there for a week, when we were told that they could not do more for her so we bought her home. She died the 10th August 1940.

1 February 1949

Dear Children of Mine,

If your Mother was alive as I am writing, we would be celebrating our 55th Wedding Anniversary, but as it has fallen my lot I’m all alone in this home where you all have been brought up under her loving influence and with my deepest love for you all. I shall ever thank God, my Heavenly Father for the gospel and its blessings.

1895 Plain City Student Body

Back (l-r): Eva Edwards, Ada Skeen, Isabell Skeen, Unknown Rogers, Cecile Richardson, Grace Draney, Aseal Ipson, Beatrice Cottle, Ethel Garner, Josie Bramwell, Edna Garner, Unknown Rogers, Amanda Olsen, Rachel Garner, Freda Wheeler, Murald Hodson, Alfred Skeen. Middle: Frank Vause, William Knight, Clarence Richardson, Grant Hansen, James Hunt, Delwin Sharp, William Skeen, Chester Davis, Ace Draney, Lee Boyd, Eli Lund, Richard Bates, Alfred Coy, Parley Hansen, Edward Folkman, Jesse Lund, Charles Bramwell, Stella Hodson, Etta Lund, Ella Hodson, Luman Green, Walter Maw. Front: Charles Maw, Ruby Stoker, Annie Cottle, Edna Hansen, Susie Boyd, Gertrude Knight, Hazel Spiers, Rose Liljenquist, Nellie Maw, Martha Hansen, Mabel Ipsen, Maude Marriott, Daisy Coy, Alminda Lund, Joseph Skeen.

Here is a picture of the Plain City, Weber, Utah school student body in 1895.  Apparently this was the entire student body and this photo was reproduced in the 15 March 1959 copy of the Ogden Standard-Examiner.  I have a couple of relatives in the picture and that is probably why my Grandpa and Grandma Ross pulled it from the paper and have kept it with their possessions.  The names all come from that same paper caption although both of the unknown Rogers just have Miss.  If anyone knows where to get a clearer scan of the photo, I would appreciate it as this 60 year old paper isn’t the best version.  I do not think the school in Plain City had another name besides the Plain City School.

I looked up the information for each individual.  I found most of them, except for a couple whose names were just not in Plain City or they must have only been there a short time.  Sometimes with those old clippings whoever gave them the names might have put a married last name rather than a maiden.  Hopefully someone can correct the rest of the names.  The two principals I could not nail down because of the difference in age I could not define and there were so many with the same name within 30 years of the age of most of these students.  I put the one I think is most likely but welcome corrections.

Eva Edwards (?-?)

Ada Myrtle Skeen (1885-1977) married Daniel Popple Williams (1881-1919) and Edsin Byrum Allred (1881-1960).

Isabell Electa Skeen (1889-1963) married Thomas Etherington Charlton (1887-1956).

Unknown Rogers (?-?)

Cecile May Richardson (1888-1975) married Robert Clyde Hellewell (1887-1967).

Grace Elizabeth Draney (1887-1972) married James Burt Atkinson (1880-1935).

Aseal Andrew Ipson (1889-1981) married Lucy Isabell Knight (1883-1989).

Mary Lew Beatrice Cottle (1887-1971) married Claud Leslie Kimball (1885-1958).

Ethel Garner (1886-1968) married Ephraim William Manning (1884-1970).

Josephine “Josie” Trena Bramwell (1887-1973) married Joseph Herman McCowan (1886-1964).

Mary Edna Garner (1888-1948) married Horace William Wayment (1885-1969).

Unknown Rogers (?-?)

Amanda Christine Olsen (1888-1968) married George Daniel Moyes (1889-1958).

Rachel Ann Garner (1889-1980) married George Leo Sandberg (1887-1949).

Freda Wheeler (?-?)

Murald Vinson Hodson (1887-1970) married Elda Herriot Barnett (1895-1979).

David Alfred Skeen (1885-1969) married Bertha Kerr (1885-1976).

Francis “Frank” Freedom Vause (1883-1974) married Vera Jaquetta Child (1885-1961).

William Thomas Knight (1881-1973) married Eliza Alzina Taylor (1886-1963).

Clarence Richardson (1883-1976) married Louie Marie Rawson (1881-1982).

Martin Grant Hansen (1883-1925) married Alice Maud King (1881-1951).

James Hunt (?-?)

Delwin Sharp (1884-1969) married Violet Grieve (1881-1964).  Obviously related to my Sharp line.

William Delbert Skeen (1884-1940).  Not sure this is the right William Skeen, but pretty sure.

Chester Davis (1883-1948) married Nellie Clark (1891-1950).

William “Ace” Hamilton Draney (1885-1979) married Ethel Skeen (1883-1979) and Vera Ann Toombs (1895-1977).

Levi “Lee” Alfred Boyd (1883-1972).

Eli Edgar Lund (1884-1955) married Mary Millie Hutchins (1882-1947).

Thomas Richard Bates (1884-1969) married Dora Evaline Taylor (1885-1981)

Alfred Jonathan Coy (1882-1957) married Mabel Adella Ipsen (1885-1954).

George Parley Hansen (1886-1968) married Criesta Zenobia Anderson (1889-1979).

George Edward Folkman (1885-1914) married Florence Evaline Maw (1888-1969).  Florence’s mother was a Sharp.

Jesse Leander Lund (1886-1918) married Myrtle John Hawkley (1895-1960).

Charles Bramwell (1885-1971) married Annie Myrtle Shupe (1888-1968).

Estella Dora Hodson (1887-1981) married Parley Paul Taylor (1886-1974).

Etta Letitia Lund (1887-1968) married Robert Alfred Witten (1873-1937).

Ella Doris Hodson (1887-1968) married James Earl McFarland (1889-1951).

Luman Peter Green (1886-1980) married Veda Jane Walker (1888-1981).

Walter Maw (1887-1912) married Della Neal (1888-1961).

Charles Maw, I think this is Charles Edward Maw (1875-1950).  Principal.

Ruby Stoker (1885-1965) married George Angus Spears (1878-1943).  She is a relative through our Stoker line.

Annie Jane Cottle (1881-1974) married Joseph Pierce Stock (1878-1954).

Edna Rebecca Hansen (1884-1958) married John Elmer Robson (1884-1930).

Susan “Susie” Emma Boyd (1885-1969) married August Steiner (1874-1949).

Gertrude Knight (1886-1970) married Hyrum Ezra Richardson (1886-1962).

Hazel Spiers (1885-1941) married Austin Tracy Wintle (1884-1977).

Rose Liljenquist (?-?)

Millie Maw (1884-1951) married Charles Joseph Buckley (1884-1959).

Martha Catherine Hansen (1887-1963) married Henry Merwin Thompson (1885-1976).

Mabel Adella Ipsen (1885-1954) married Alfred Jonathan Coy (1882-1957).

Maude Marriott (1880-1972) married Wallace Ridgeway Bell (1881-1947).

Daisy Louise Coy (1884-1968) married Hyrum Parley Hogge (1883-1941).

Alminda Drucella Lund (1881-1966) married Harold Waldermar Johnson (1888-1967).

Joseph Skeen, I think this is Joseph Lawrence Skeen (1857-1915).  Assistant Teacher.

Benson Stake Recognition

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

Here is a photograph I thought I would share.  It tells its own story.  This photo was taken on 25 April 1948 in the Benson Stake Tabernacle.  The photo is honoring those Visiting Teachers who have been faithful in going out for 40+ years in the Benson Stake.  The Benson Stake was headquartered in Richmond, Cache, Utah (later renamed to Richmond Stake), not Benson.

Mind you, at that time, this was not just an organization you automatically became a member of when you joined the church.  This was a separate membership with dues requirements for the organization.  You even received a membership card.  Not only are these women faithful in Visiting Teaching for 40 years, but they had volunteered to be a member of the Relief Society for that many years and actively participated.  Martha Coley in the front middle is my Great, Great Grandmother.  How many Visiting Teachers today qualify for faithful Visiting Teaching for 40 years?

Here is Martha Christiansen Coley’s daughter’s Relief Society membership card.  Lillian Coley married Joseph Nelson Jonas and after his death remarried to Lorenzo (Ren) Bowcutt.

Here is some more information I could find on the individuals in the photo.

Lydia Elnora Karren (1879-1959) married Edward Leavitt (1876-1957).  They probably lived in Lewiston, Cache, Utah.

Estella Nora Glover (1883-1952) married Ephraim Isaac Blair (1882-1943).  They probably lived in Lewiston.

Sarah () married Preece ().  Cannot find records, either have the name wrong or she moved from Cache Valley.

Susanna “Susie” Elizabeth Preece (1863-1953) married Andrew Bickmore Allen (1859-1941).  They probably lived in Cove, Cache, Utah.

Livinia Merriam Henson (1871-1950) married James Franklin Wilcox (1869-1951), previously married to an Levi Knapp Allen (1842-1928).  They probably lived in Cove.

Clara Deseret Stephenson (1880-1951) married Joseph Henry Wheeler (1882-1963).  They probably lived in Lewiston or Trenton, Cache, Utah.

Lavina Ellen Hawkeswood (1877-1954) married John James Poulsen (1871-1948).  They lived in Lewiston.  Interesting note, Martha Christiansen Coley’s husband, Herbert Coley, and Lavina are 1st cousins once removed!  Do you think these two ladies sitting on the front row knew of that relationship?

Christensia () married Hansen ().  Cannot find records, either have the name wrong or she moved from Cache Valley.

Martha Christiansen (1879-1961) married Herbert Coley (1864-1942).  They lived in Richmond.

Martha Ann Kingsbury (1850-1950) married William Crawford Lewis (1830-1908).  She was 98 years old in this picture!  They probably lived in Richmond.

Sarah Ann Gaunt (1878-1963) married Owen Elmo Snelgrove (1880-1973).  They probably lived in Richmond.

Finally some time to read

Life is great. I have not any complaints in the world. I get off work at 4:30 in the afternoon. Just in time to pick up Amanda from school if I need
to. The tank of petrol in the car has already lasted over a week. The miles on the car don’t even seem to be adding. I love my job. I love what I am doing. I have a corner office. I am now promoted as of today. Life is looking pretty darn good to me. Now if I can just get hired on full time….Another highlight about all of this is that I have time for more personal things. The Lord has poured a veritable landslide on me in regards to family history. The past week alone has kept me swamped in trying to keep up with family history. The Sharp door has opened and fully unleashed some of its storehouse. I stumbled on the first pictures I have ever seen of my Great Grandparents, John William Ross (Jack) and his wife Ethel Sharp. I found links, contacts, even spoke with members of the family who personally knew them. Photos have come from left and right. On top of it all, I received about 50 documents, all original, of correspondence on the Andra/Wanner/Schneider line from Germany. They are all in the German so I have to find a translator, but I have not even started that pile.

The time has been wonderful. It is like the old story of the treasure hunter who was introduced to the cave of mountains of treasure. It all laid before him, and yet there was one clause to the entry. I could only take one thing. That is how I feel. Every moment of every day, there is only
one thing I can do, and i might never have the opportunity again. Great Aunt June to interview. I arranged for Dad and Grandpa to go down to
Victorville, California to visit with her. Grandpa has not seen his own sister for over 50 years. Her daughter is going to start interviewing her for me. She asked me to give her a list of questions I want asked. She should have asked for the host of questions I want to ask.

I finally have time to finish typing up my Great Grandmother’s journals (on my mother’s line) I have typed up another 3 months of her 1962, which has been very interesting. From earthquakes in Richmond and Salt Lake City to my mother losing her finger at Dr. Gibbons office in Lewiston, Utah. These journals are more valuable just to me than I could ever have imagined. Never would I have thought my family would have played so central to some of the stories that are unfolding.

Despite all that I am learning through what is being heaped upon me in family history is the rest of the time I have for personal things. I can
run two or three times a week if I choose. I don’t have the motivation up there just yet, but it is coming. But my passion, my favorite, the
opportunity to read.

I read Borah by McKenna about Senator William Edgar Borah. Who now ranks as my all time favorite politican of all time. Wheeler ranked up there, but there is something akin to godliness in Borah. Which is attested of what happened at his death. They held a funeral for him in the Senate Chamber, but nobody spoke. President Roosevelt opened the solemn assembly, and closed it. Nobody spoke because they believed there was nothing to say. This man had lived it. He was known to all, the whole country over. Europe, Germany, and Russia even paid their respects despite what was happening. He had a whole train dedicated and given to take him home to Idaho. He laid in state in Idaho and the stories of that. I wept at the end. It was as if my own friend had died. What a powerful man.

This week I also read Morris K Udall’s book, Too Funny to be President. Another great book. Another good man. It was interesting to read of him.
He reminded me so much of Cecil Andrus, and then when he talked of Andrus, I was honoured. The book was not so much about Udall as I would have liked, but I sure enjoyed the read. One of my favorites, “If Abraham Lincoln was alive today, he would be turning in his grave.”

I also read Mafia to Mormon today. That was a very interesting read. Not talking of great literature here, but I am glad I read it. The editor should be fired, but I enjoyed it.

So it is. I feel like I have a life that has been given to me. What is even better, I am making more money than slaving those long hours. Who could ask for more. What will life bring next?

Time to close for the night.

Oh the nothingness

Here I write once again.  Sometimes life seems so full of everything, and other times as if this broad expanse of nothingness.  The variety of individuals I have the privilege of being with is amazing.  Their view, their outlook, the goals, their aspirations, their weaknesses all seem to vary so much.  The variety and style prompts me to proclaim how wonderful and amazing they are.  The intelligence that is so encompassing held by just a dozen people is staggering.  Yet, sometimes I wonder if they know one iota of anything concerning themselves and eternity.  People seem to be so good, wonderful, and helpful and in the same breath so greedy, selfish, and conceited.  What an education far beyond anything I could have ever imagined.
Sometimes I wonder about the words of C.S. Lewis about when one recognizes themselves, that becomes the basis of pride.  Yet, one star is greater than another, one is always greater than another.  Perhaps we can recognize our own individuality but should be highly cautious about setting ourselves up over other people.  That is what the world is teaching.  You are special, it doesn’t matter what anyone is or does, you are better than they are.  That is false.  We are special, we are individuals, but we are a part of the fabric and an essential player.  We cannot be independent of all others.  No man is an island.  To think we are to be our own man, independent of the God who created us, and the fellow citizens of the earth only creates a bunch of insufferable show offs.  It breeds relativism and more conflict in the world.
While I have no doubt of the place of America in the role of the world, I find it scary that we subscribe to the belief I just mentioned.  I remember in England when an American could not understand one with the local dialect, they met it characteristically with talking a little louder and asking a question a little slower.  It wasn’t them who had the problem, it ws the individual speaking!  We expect the world to revolve around us and pay us all the respect we believe is our due.  We claim the rest of the world has pride and arrogance, even ignorance; when I must admit I think we are the one guilty of the charge.  Is it any wonder the French have problems with us?  In their history individuals given power rather than a government has produced “The Terror”.  Why wouldn’t we expect them to react the way they did when we gave more over arching powers to the executive?  When the power of waging war and of going into battle was given in their country, it led to a man seeking to rule Europe.  Add that to their condition of their neighbors who have taken them over because of what they deemed as right.  Of course France is not supportive of our going into another country to further ideals of democracy.  We can see why they don’t like capital punishment, the guillotine is a national symbol still to them.  That is something they will forever buck at.  What is more, we hover and watch them and give them the cold shoulder.  Not as a brother in the world should do, but as a lesser creature.  Someone who is to not be associated with on the playground.  We act the bully, and then when they bristle or don’t fall in line, we scorn and mock them.  Try and turn our friends against them to persuade them to be with us.  Looking back, that bully did hold their power for time.  What ever happened to the bully.  I hope we became more mature, that we all become equal, but it isn’t true.  I know of three who bullied me in elementary and junior school, and sadly they find themselves on the lower of the totem pole in life today.  I do not know if this would be true generally or across the board, but it is in my life.  Sadly, I expect the same thing will happen eventually to us as a nation.
Then I look at other nations who are different.  Others with different goals and perspectives.  We eye them with caution and expect they must have questionable motives.  The uncertainty always creates fear doesn’t it?  “I have often thought to myself, what is to be done?”  Education is our only hope.  Just like Thomas Jefferson I find myself thinking that our only hope would be education and the constant expansion of our understanding.  It must be understood, retained, and constantly built upon.  Just like Joseph Smith taught of the need for increasing light and knowledge, Thomas Jefferson admonished, and Allan Bloom admonishes we must find and constantly be analyzing.  We find our beliefs, seek out further light, compare it to what we have, and throw away what doesn’t work.  Leave it behind, keeping a faithful record of where we have been.  Sadly, such a case does not seem to be on the books today.  Like I mentioned the case of relativism seems to be taking hold with all its disastrous underpinnings.  James Madison made it clear that without the moral compasses and moorings that come from religious principles, the looking out one for another, democracy would drift and fall.  Without morality democracy will pass as all the others have before our time.
Odd isn’t it.  We are so smart, yet we never counsel with history.  Is it any wonder we are so seriously admonished to remember.  Rather than condemning, let us seek.  Rather than finding our lines and demanding nobody to cross over, why don’t we step over them ourselves and act as more faithful pilgrims and wanderers?  The glory of God is intelligence isn’t it?  When slapped, turn your cheek and move on.  Service to your enemies and comfort to those who are weak.  Revenge is never the order of the day.
It all starts with the individual.  From there the example is powerful.  There is great hope in the world.  There is great possibility of potential.  Why are we focused on fear?  Why not look to the future?  Fear only cripples.
Inside the world, in my own personal life, there is much to look forward to.  I find in myself a growth and a bright outlook.  It all comes in the name of Amanda Hemsley for me.  Burton K Wheeler and Jared Diamond have been my meat recently.  Not to mention the studies of Iranian business deals and American history that have been my research.  There has been a constant barrage of information which have helped to temper me and my zeal.  Somehow though, the introduction of another who is to be considered as yourself changes things drastically.  My vision has expanded not only of the world from her eyes but the view from my own.  It tempers the excitement of youth even more, but gives more drive for the future.  Somehow the clutch of individualism is disengaged and one finds themselves propelled faster and further along the road of life.  I am not even married yet!  The walk continues, but it is taking on new vistas.  I leave the Rocky Mountains with dizzying height and glamor to the more humble and open expanse of the plains.  It is not that there is less to see, nor is there less to experience.  It is just different.  The ecosystem is just as open, but a new road.  The anticipation is great.  Where will it take us?  How far will it take us?  Shall we circle the earth or walk slowly to Blair, Nebraska?  Either one, I am content.
She is most beautiful, captivating, and sublime.  I have not potential to describe the connection in those eyes and how far the warmth of her body seems to penetrate.  This world is definitely beyond the physical.  We don’t even know all the aspects of the physical, but already many doors are open for emotional and spiritual travel.
I found one of her hairs today.  It glistened and somehow represented something so far away.  It was only a memento that was obviously manifesting of her presence.  Yet she is so far away.  This part is not even living, but yet it speaks of her.  How many hairs in the world do I see, yet lose their true significance.  I have eyes but do not see.
Life is more than just me.  I focus on myself so much, everything revolves around my life, because that is me.  It is unavoidable.  But the greatest joys come in the life of others.  Burton K Wheeler’s experiences are now a part of my own.  His personality has become a part of mine.  While the stories and the times may melt, I have been changed and can clearly link it to him.  The same with Cecil D Andrus’ life.  On and on and on.  Oh if I could implore more people to record their lives and write their stories!  What I would not give to read the same of my ancestors.  My grandmother’s journal was a portal into another’s life.  However, that life is an extension of me.  While Brother Wheeler is far more removed, he is still a part of the country I now life, and that is part of me as well.  I was so sure to go out and define the world and change it according to my view.  I am coming to find out that the world has created much of what I am.  It has changed me.  It used to be such a negative view.  I always knew what needed to change and what I was to do.  Now it is the opposite.  What can I learn from it to apply in life.  I seek more and more.  Dismissing those which are of lesser quality and holding to those which are more true.
Is it any wonder we are exhorted to seek out knowledge.  It is the only thing that will save us.  Especially that knowledge which is most important.
Amanda came to visit over last weekend.  All my time with her is something to be cherished.  We learn so much from each other.  I learn so much from her.  She amazes me.  She is so pure and wonderful.  She makes me wish I was better, glad I receive her love, and yet honoured.  I love her and hope we will forever build upon that.  We are both just humble enough to learn from each other and to walk the path together.  As we grow, how much more sweeter can it possibly become?
Oh the nothingness of man.  God rules the nations and the earth inasmuch as we let him.  He oversees all and knows all things.  May we learn of him rather than to pontificate to the world what they should know.  There is so much to learn.  May I always be learning and seeking?  Rather than the one giving instruction.  Reminds me of Socrates always asking the questions rather than giving the answers.  Good night.