Oral History Program Margaret S. Hess Interviewed by Janice Dawson 31 August 1976 i Oral History Program Weber State University Stewart Library Ogden, Utah Margaret S. Hess Interviewed by Janice Dawson 31 August 1976 Copyright © 2012 by Weber State University, Stewart Library ii Mission Statement The Oral History Program of the Stewart Library was created to preserve the institutional history of Weber State University and the Davis, Ogden and Weber County communities. By conducting carefully researched, recorded, and transcribed interviews, the Oral History Program creates archival oral histories intended for the widest possible use. Interviews are conducted with the goal of eliciting from each participant a full and accurate account of events. The interviews are transcribed, edited for accuracy and clarity, and reviewed by the interviewees (as available), who are encouraged to augment or correct their spoken words. 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It is recommended that this oral history be cited as follows: Hess, Margaret, an oral history by Janice Dawson, 31 August 1976, WSU Stewart Library Oral History Program, University Archives, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, UT. iii Abstract: The following is an oral history interview with Margaret Hess. The interview was conducted on August 31, 1976 in the home of the interviewee by Janice Dawson. Hess discusses her life experiences while growing up in Farmington, Utah throughout the 1900’s. JD: This is an interview with Margaret S. Steed conducted by Janice Dawson on August 31, 1976 and this is in her home in Farmington, Utah. Mrs. Hess would you like to tell us when you were born and where and a little bit about your early life? MH: I was born in Draper, Utah 20 April 1864?? JD: You told me it was 1884. MH: 1884, and I came from a family of ten. There was four girls and six boys. And after we moved, I was six years old when we moved to Farmington and I've been here ever since. On April 20 I'll be 93 years old. So I've got a little history behind me but I don’t know whether my memory's going to be very good to tell the things that I want to tell. But when I married Milton Miller Hess in 1911 and we had three boys and two girls and the first girl died. And I've had-nearly all of our sons have been on missions, and my daughter's married and lives in Pasadena, California now. JD: Well, I think that's great. You told me that you started to keep a history of Farmington when you were very young. 'What prompted you to do this? MH: Well, I was always interested in writing. I started when I was sixteen years old writing histories of the older people. I've written a hundred histories of the pioneers of Farmington, I've got them all. We got them all filed and then I thought well how nice it 1 would be to write something about the old town. There's six of our—my brothers and sisters that were born here and then the others were born in Manti, Lehi and Draper. But I've lived here all my life since then. And I've been in different organizations, president of the Relief Society, and the chorister, and I've worked in the Mutual, MIA I suppose you call it, and the Primary, and I've always been active in the DUP. I helped to start that here in Farmington, and we're still active in it. JD: Would you like to tell us about the book you're writing? MH: Well I've—I hope it's going to be good. I've written, started right out from the beginning of Farmington and telling all about the people, and their activities and how—what they were, presidents or bishops, and I've got everything that I could think of to make it interesting and there's a number of them, we've got seventeen they finished the other day, got out of the printer's office and I'm—we're trying to get it sold now. JD: What's the name of your book? MH: "My Farmington" That's what we thought we would be better to call it because it's always been "My Farmington" and I've lived here since I was six and I said, but I hope it will be good and people will appreciate it, for I tell you I've put my whole life in it. JD: I'm sure they will. Can you tell us—I'm interested a little bit about entertainment in the early days? What did your family do for entertainment when you were a young girl? MH: Well, our family, like I told you, is a family of ten. We raised a lot of ground cherries and at nights we'd have tub after tub and sit there and pick those over until midnight, and we learned to sing. Our whole family were singers. We learned just by doing—every night we'd sing songs. My father was an excellent singer, my mother and they would sing 2 duets together and then we started right in and I've sung in the choir for 63 years and I was a visiting teacher for 63 years. I've been president of the Relief Society, and in the Primary, and now in the DUP. That's my big headache now. JD: Did your family ever go to places like, oh Saltair, Liberty Park, any place like that? MH: Oh, yes. Our big joy was going to Saltair. We'd go out there and take our lunch and have a swim in the salty water. Course that was in the early days. As we got older they—the boys, four of them—went to Canada, my brothers, and the other families got married and moved out of the town. I'm the last one of the leaf on the tree. JD: Is that right? MH: They've all died and I'm the last. We had Lagoon. My husband worked at Lagoon, he built everything in Lagoon there—all of the buildings and everything. JD: Do you recall when you first started working there, when your husband was there? MH: At Lagoon? JD: Mhmm. MH: I didn't work too much there, we lived right in Lagoon. We lived there for ten years, right in the old house there, right in all the noise. JD: What years was this? MH: Well, it was along in 1910 and we had—nearly all my children were born down there. JD: Is that right? MH: That is—one was born in the hospital—my last baby. But that was our home and over to the race track, my husband was always producer you know of racing, they had the big 3 races there. And we lived over in the race track for a while and then when he started to be manager of Lagoon we then moved over to Lagoon and stayed there. We's there for ten years. JD: Now this, the race track you're speaking of, is that where the present race track is? MH: Yes, it joined right onto Lagoon. And this home is 68 years old. He built this himself and we would rent to our relatives, somebody that was reliable to take care of it and all the time we were away and then he finally gave up that job and we moved home. JD: Tell us a little bit about what Lagoon was like in those early days. MH: Well in the early days everything was up by the old bowery. The merry-go-round was just north of it and there wasn't many things down only the big coaster. They started that real early. On the west side of the promenade there they had all of their buildings for you-know, sports and for different things like shooting galleries and different things for, and the big dance hall, the pavilion was there. It was 1923 when it got on fire, and that destroyed a lot of that and they had to rebuild on the north end of it. But we lived right in all of that noise and also while we’d over to the race track all the races—but, oh, it was wonderful though to get out with the gang and watch all of those horses run races and bet on the races. JD: Did they have betting then? MH: Yes, I never won, I always lost. We'd lose and then we'd win and then we'd lose, so we didn't come out with a dime, we's behind. JD: What years did they have the racing there, do you recall? 4 MH: Well, I think it started—I'm not too sure. My memory right now is not too good for that, but I know we were down there in 1918, along in there. JD: About in that area. Well, that's interesting. MH: Yes, and Lagoon was just across the road from it was attached on it you might say to it. Then we lived right in Lagoon and we's there winter and summer about ten years. JD: Now where was the home located that you lived in at Lagoon? MH: Well it was one of the old homes near the pavilion and it was-—well, first when we lived right up by the big gates was on the north side where the public would come in, and just east of that was a little home that was moved up from Lake Park. JD: Oh, yes. MH: And we lived in there, it got so noisy, they had the merry-go-round on the south of us and on the north, right next to our bedroom window, was this noisy old dodgem. JD: Oh, dear. MH: So they soon moved that and moved—started to rebuilding and put it down where it is now, south, that's pretty near a block south of us, takes in that section there. And then we had fires down there when I was there and oh, we had lots of things that frightened us to death. JD: You spoke about Lake Park. Now they moved a pavilion up from Lake Park didn't they? The old Lake Park. And they moved your home too? MH: Yes that was down oh, Lake Park, the Lagoon, everything was moved up there, even the old pavilion. 5 JD: And your home that you were living in? MH: The home that we lived in was the saloon. JD: Is that right? MH: It was moved up from Lake Park. We were quite comfortable, we had it fixed up nice but it was right in the midst of all the noise and it was terrible. JD: What other buildings did they move up from Lake Park? Do you remember? MH: Well, they moved the shooting gallery and the pavilion and the bowery, everything down there was moved to Lagoon. JD: Is that right? MH: That's what started Lagoon. JD: Do you recall Lake Park or do you remember your parents going there? MH: Oh, yes. JD: Can you tell us a little bit about that? MH: We had—when we first went down we didn't have cars—went buggy and horse and you know that's—it must be pretty near eight miles, right down on the lake shore, you know, the old Salt Lake. JD: Now that was right west of Farmington. MH: Uh huh. It was west and then we'd always go down around the Clark Lane, lover Big Creek and through the deep water and driving down there, many times we rode horseback. And then we had a field, my father had a little farm right down next to the lake and we just put our horses in there and if we'd go home at dark, or after dark, we 6 always knew where to find them, then we'd ride home again. Yes, we had quite a thrill then with the—going down there riding horses you know, and they always called us the Indians. JD: Did you swim a lot at Lake Park? MH: Oh, yes. JD: Right in the lake? MH: Yes, it was beautiful. They had bathhouses, real old-time bathhouses all covered with green vines. You couldn't see in there, the vines covered the whole roof and everything, they're round and they had them just round, and the bowery was down one place and the pavilion, and then all of these bathing places was above. JD: To change your clothing? MH: Uh huh, where we'd go change our clothing and go down into the water. They had quite a long promenade that you'd go out on the boards and on steps and step right down into the water, cause it was quite muddy and to get into it, and that saved us when we got out of there. And then we'd have to go up— right there they had a shower to get all this salt off and or you'd itch yourself to death. -But the joy of it was taking a half bushel of apples and oh, did they ever taste good with that salt on your lips. We just enjoyed those apples. We'd even save them to ride home. We'd go in a big hayrack covered with hay and blankets put over the top. Oh, they'd be sometimes thirty and forty of us piled on there. Oh, it was such a joy when I think back of the good old times that we had and that long ride that seemed miles and miles to us then. JD: Oh, that sounds fun. 7 MH: But we've—I've walked it many a time. We'd just get smart and think that we could make it and then my mother would worry because we had the Denver and Rio Grande depot to pass, and the Short Line, and we come up that lonely old lane—she used to worry. She says "You can’t go like this again, you've either got to go on a hayrack or a horse or not go." So that stopped us from our good times. JD: What other things were there to do at Lake Park? MH: Oh, they had all kinds of rides you could ride on and games, if you had the money to go on all of it. And we'd take—they had beautiful, like they'd covered boweries where—little places where it was all covered with the vines for eating places with the round table and round seats. We'd all hurry to get there first to see who could get one of those places to eat in. JD: And you'd usually take a picnic with you? MH: Always. Always took your picnic and then they had a bowery that was cool and it was close to the water and a nice pavilion where they danced. They had good orchestras. They had wonderful orchestras that'd come out both there and down here, they always hired the best, they were just wonderful. Sometimes where would be twenty to twentyfive in the bands. So they always had good entertainment for us. JD: Now who owned this Lake Park, was that— MH: Well, I think the—it was owned by the town at first, and then I think Mr. Bamberger, Julian Bamberger—or Simon Bamberger, the old Simon—Julian was the son. And after he died and then Julian had it all moved—they bought Lagoon and moved everything up to Lagoon. Lagoon was a farm land down there and they bought it from the—I think 8 from the Miller Brothers and some of the Hess people owned there. So they had Lagoon moved from Lake Park moved up and then they called it Lagoon ‘cause it had two big ponds. And one year they had to have more room for parking so they closed the one pond and just had the one east of it. But they had all these bathing houses around here at Lagoon and so it was—the water was delightful. It could be warmed. They had it so it was across the Bamberger tracks. The train came east of Lagoon and across the tracks they had their heating power there that they'd heat the water if it was on cold days, so they could have either hot or cold water to swim in. JD: Oh. Was the swimming in the pool that they had there or did they construct a special swimming pool right from the first? MH: They had a nice swimming pool there and then they didn't have—it wasn't big enough so they had to make more, more pools. JD: They didn't ever swim in the pond though, what I mean is the original pond. MH: Well some of the boys used to go over there, but it was too deep. JD: But that wasn't for the public. MH: That was at their own risk that they went. They'd sneak over there lots of times ‘cause they liked to go down deep you know and diving, it was safer for them. But they had the bowery—they had two boweries—one on the east and one west of there. And the one on the east was usually for—they'd have big bands would come. The Philipinos came there and played. And they had a big house built there for the bands, then all the seats in front of it to entertain. It was beautiful. On Sunday we'd break the Sabbath and go down there to hear the music. Our meeting would be at 2:00 o clock in the afternoon 9 and then we'd all slip down there just to hear the music, and it was worth it. Oh, they were beautiful and we even found homes up hers for them to stay nights. JD: Would they come out from Salt Lake? MH: Well, they were from the Philippines. JD: Oh, really, they were touring the country? MH: They were touring. JD: Oh, I see. MH: They had them here, oh I don’t know if it was a month or something like that, but we had a lot of them down our street here. People had rooms for them that they could rent out to sleep. JD: Oh, and then they played at Lagoon for a month at a time? MH: Uh huh and they played there Sunday afternoon. At 2:00 they'd start their concert. JD: Was there dancing ever on Sunday? MH: Well, if they did they didn't—they never totally could, but they went over on the pavilion while this music was going and they'd dance there one or two couples. But they never danced much. They tried it but the city stopped it. They wouldn't allow that. We didn't want it either. It was bad enough, we were called the outlaws if we went down on Sunday. But we used to sneak down just to hear that music, oh it was beautiful. They had so many in the band and so many beautiful tunes that you could sit there all night and listen to it. They'd play in the afternoon and they'd play in the evening about, they 10 always closed about 9:30 or 10:00 at the park. The lights started going off and we left. I guess we'd all stayed there all night if they'd stayed with us. JD: That's about what they do now days. MH: That's true—can’t get rid of them. JD: What else do you remember about early Lagoon that—maybe something that isn't there now? MH: Well, a lot of things are not there now. The real old boweries have gone and the main pavilion, some of it's there now. And then they had the dodgem and they had a lovely merry-go-round—they had a new one put in. JD: This isn't the original one then? MH: No, they may have some of the horses there, but so many of them were broken up you know and they had to replace them. And they moved that down where it is now farther south of the bowery where they had it by the bowery. Oh, they had a lot of entertainments on Sunday afternoon. I could tell you of the bands would come and they'd bring program singers and it was enjoyable to hear them, but it come on the Sabbath. JD: That's too bad, that's—a lot of things we have now the same way. MH: That's true. JD: Did you ever go to Liberty Park when you were a youngster? MH: Oh, yes, yes. JD: What do you remember about that? 11 MH: That was a big place, and my sister lived just about a block and a half west of there. And we'd go down to her place and then we'd go up there. And oh, it—there was so many things to do up there, so many rides. It was spread out the whole block there and they had bands and then they'd have quartets come there and sing. And they entertained all the time, they had something going on all the time to entertain people and keep them. But we lived too far away and we'd have to come home before dark. Yes, that was quite a place. JD: It must have been—the entertainment area must have been bigger now—or bigger then that it is now. MH: Oh, I think so. Liberty Park you know was quite a big place there and we'd right close to it. And they had their own music. Sometimes the merry-go-round music interfered with the band, so they had to change hours and they'd come a little later. They had to stop one or the other because it interfered. JD: Did they have the aviary then where they, you know, where they keep all the birds? MH: Not so much then. They had animals. JD: That came later. MH: We had—people would come in—they brought vicious lions. They'd have—you know, bring them in great big cars or vans and then we'd watch one, he'd open the lion's mouth and put his head in its mouth to scare us to death. But they moved on. JD: It was more of a performance then. 12 MH: Yes, it was like a circus they'd come in there and when they'd advertise it we'd all go down to see it. Yes, we'd have a lot of those that would come and go. It kind of hurt Saltair too, for a while. JD: Did it? MH: Yes, this was closer, and it cost quite a bit to go out on, we had to go way out there on the train. That was a beautiful ride though. I used to love to go—in open cars you know where the breeze blew through there and oh, it was delightful. And Lagoon used to come—they always come on the train. They had cars that'd haul them out. And finally they built on farther west of Lagoon and they opened the highway and then they began coming in cars. And oh, there's hundreds of cars. It seemed like Sunday was the day everybody wanted to come—working men you know, that was the only chance they had. But our bishop didn't like us going down there on Sunday. Sometime we'd sneak out and go down and hear the music, it was beautiful. So many changes—different bands would come in you know, it would cost them quite a bit too. Mr. Bamberger, Simon, owned it but he leased it out to different men you know, for two or three years or five years. I think five years was the limit, cut my husband worked there and he build nearly every building on there that had—he'd started them you know and had men helping him to get those buildings going. And then it was— I'm not sure if it was '23 when the fire broke out down in the coaster and it just swept up the—you know where the promenade is going down that road, all that—clear up to the pavilion. It got just to the pavilion and started on that when they got it out. They had to call the county for every fire department to come and help because of the south wind was just carrying it going right up to the north. But we had just moved out of there and moved back up 13 home when that fire came, ‘cause the old home that we were there was right in line with the fire. JD: Did in burn? MH: No, it didn't get to them. It—the pavilion was just a little south of it. JD: Just to south of it, I see. MH: There was two or three buildings on this side south of us and then the big pavilion. It got up to there but it burned—it took out a lot of their places you know like throwing balls and different places, it burned those right down. And the trees were ruined. My father raised all the trees that went to Lagoon. He lived—our old home was down as you go toward the Miller Floral and he had a half a block there and he had on the west side of it all in little trees that he raised and Lagoon come and bought every one of them and planted them down there. So it was a garden of trees down there and they were beautiful. JD: Did the coaster have to be rebuilt at this time? MH: Oh, yes, parts of it. It started to burn quite a bit on the top where the sparks flew. It started south of it and one of the—I don’t know whether it was a shooting gallery or something, it started it down there and then that wind just carried it right to the pavilion. But they got—it burned some of the places down but the pavilion—they just got it. They had to do a lot of remodeling and rebuilding on it. But boy it was a frightening time. We went way over on the viaduct over—it used to be built so the cars went over the road on where you turn to go to Ogden. You know you go to Kaysville around that road. Our cars used to go over the top. We went over and got up on there and watched that fire 14 burn at Lagoon. Cause from the hill down here where we'd go to the head of the lane you couldn't see too much there was so many trees. So we all went over there and I think it was on Sunday night, it started on Sunday. My husband says seems like the devil's after us everything starts on Sunday. I said well that teaches us we should not go to Lagoon or picnicking on the Sabbath. But that's what they blame it on. JD: When did the Freed family begin managing Lagoon, do you recall? MH: Well they took it a long time. They were right toward the last. I think they were the last that's had it now. JD: Yes, they're still there. MH: They still have it—the concessions and all that. But they took it after— there's a number of different ones, I just can’t recall who all had it. JD: Went through many different hands. MH: Yes, Bamberger did for a long time, and they'd had different concessions and try it— maybe some would take it for a couple of years and it wouldn't pay off or they didn't know how to do it and they'd give it up. But I couldn't remember how many, there's so many of them that was taking part there with it. JD: Well, the Freeds have built quite a nice park out of it haven't they? MH: Yes, they have. They've done a lot to it and built the home— buildings in there in places. Used to have the old bandstand. It stood right— you know where the old bowery is? JD: Yes. 15 MH: One down here and one on the east end, straight south of there in the middle of the park was this great big two story building. And they had that—every 3unday and all these seats in front. They'd have this Philipino band come out. They'd have a traveling band every Sunday. Well, if the Philipinos had it two or three Sundays, then another one would come in. Every Sunday, it was beautiful music. They'd have singers and quartets, and duets and they had so many beautiful songs and things, we just enjoyed going down there but our bishop said it was the Sabbath. When he didn’t catch us we went down. JD: Could you tell me a little bit about the time of the floods in Farmington? I think there were several that came here weren't there? Floods, in the canyons? MH: Oh, we had little ones. I think the worse one was in '23. You could go out here on my— this part of my house wasn't built. We just had one little room and we went out on the porch on the north of that, and you could hear those rocks coming down that canyon just bang, bang, bang. And we had people marooned in here from Ogden and Salt Lake. There was no outlet, you couldn't get out—they couldn't get in. And there was hundreds of people roaming the streets. We took in some here, boys that we'd worked—my husband had hired at Lagoon. He took care of the bowery. Having to work in there he had all—a lot of these boys working for him. And we slept a few of those here—what I could manage. And they were walking, they slept on lawns where ever they could—they couldn't get— some tried to walk the tracks down, but the floods came from the Steed Canyon over here and came from the Big Canyon. JD: So it was on both sides of you. 16 MH: Oh, it was knee deep out here. And you could hear those rocks. It was wicked, oh just beating against each other coming down that. And I think that's the time that the Clark girl, I've been trying all morning to think if that's when it was, they were up there. She had been on a mission to Hawaii, and her husband, newlyweds, and they went up the canyon, this canyon, and was up there part—and a family of five from Salt Lake were all killed. And the Big Creek comes down out of the east canyon here, that it goes through out town just west or south of Lagoon. And it washed their two bodies right down back of their barn. And that was so strange, both been on a mission, and there they were washed right out of that canyon. They went up that night for—I had—I says "Oh, Iris I hate to see you go tonight, don’t go on Sunday. But she says "Well Sister Hess it's the only time'--she was a very dear friend of mine and I just hated to see them go and she said "But we have to go because we haven't got much time. It's the only time we got." I think her husband was from Ogden. But they were both killed. JD: And this happened on a Sunday evening? Was it during the dark in the middle of the night or do you recall? MH: Well toward evening. JD: Toward evening it was. MH: Was rising all day long. Had a heavy storm come, this rain storm and the water kept coming down and down till it, well it just gutted that canyon. It brought down—we drove up the canyon, it brought down boulders. Well I've got a great big round table and it was as large as that. I don’t know how it ever got down there. And they said that those people just above on little knoll that's where they camped, but it washed them right out and it brought them right down this Big Creek. And that goes south of Lagoon under that 17 viaduct they got—you know goes under the railroad track that water and took them right down the Clark home. JD: Oh, dear. MH: Yes, that was a wicked storm. We'd go out on my porch here and listen to those rocks beat against each other. I had a great big square piano here, square grand piano. We gave ten dollars for it because my little girl wanted to take piano lessons and the neighbor wanted to move and we all got right under that. I had all the four kids right under the piano and it was thundering and lightening. And a fire broke out down at Clark's hay stack. My husband come down from the canyon. See he was working at Lagoon. Lagoon was flooded and he come to see if we were all right, and we's all under the piano. He says "Well if the roof caves in you'll never be hurt." So we stayed under there till the thunder and lightning stopped and the rain let up. But when the fire broke out it did upset me. But he kept coming back to see if we's all alive. But it was a nightmare. I didn't even go to bed that night. I kept going at the door to see if there's any more noise up there like another thunder storm or something. Yes, that was a wicked night and taking so many lives. JD: Did it do much damage at Lagoon? MH: Well, it flooded 'em. It washed a lot of—you know that's always been known for flowers and the gardener's flowers were washed right out and it was just like a river going down the midway you know, where the pavilion is. AM all that going clear down there they said they just couldn't even walk. It was just like a deep river. Course as soon as that run off and went into their pond and stopped, it stopped the water coming. But people couldn't get out it—there was no train. No cars could leave. And a lot of them slept down 18 there in the buildings, they’s all over town on people's lawn. The courthouse—we drove down there when they brought the five little boys that washed down and killed them. They had them all lying on the lawn at the court house. And we went down there and saw those and oh it just made you sick. And then it killed the married couple— the married couple that was up there. But it just seemed like all hell was turned loose on us that night. Just like it was in the last days. And I thought well I'll never go to bed, I'm not going to bed. My husband was worn out, he had been chasing, driving back and forth to Lagoon worrying about down there and then had come up and worry about us. And I had my mother and father alone. They's down to the Miller Floral, as you go down to the Miller Floral, alone and he'd go down to see if they were alright and he didn't get sleep either. But it pretty near wrecked our town. JD: Do you recall any places that were damaged particularly? MH: Well some of the homes right close up there it just took them right off their foundation. They had to rebuild. But right close to the, down this way, now canyon, the Steed Canyon down that way, they damaged some houses, cause that's where it hit-that canyon and this one. But in between like us, we got lots of deep water but we didn't have any fires and we didn't have anything that was damaged by the water. JD: Can you tell us anything about some of the rescues that were made during that flood? Wasn't Dr. Robinson involved in a rescue? MH: Yes, he, Dr. Robinson lives on a little—about three or four blocks from here. He's right on—there's a meadow down below him clear to Lagoon. And he heard this woman screaming "help, help" and was out there watching ‘cause he could hear it down at Lagoon. They said Lagoon was being flooded out. And he went down through that field, 19 I don’t know whether he got his shoes on, he stepped on a nail and he got there and this poor old woman, she was living there in a tent. Her son was working at Lagoon. And it was right in this meadow and she—it washed the tent right away. And there was a cow or calves there, and she had her arm around this young heifer, I think it was around its neck, screaming "help, help". And Clarence Robinson, Dr. Robinson he's a dentist, ran down there and he rescued—saved her life. He just got her in his arms and carried her and took her—I don’t know whether he took her over onto where this tent was I think, and saved her life there. And then there was a little child that they had lost. I never knew, I had never heard whether that child was found. They said it disappeared and we was just a wondering if they just said that, cause nobody ever found it and it just worried us to death. And every time I'd go down past big creek I'd think—I'd wonder if it's in a hole or anywhere they didn't look. You just wondered you know, but it might have been a false alarm. But they said the child disappeared, but we couldn't prove it. But it was sure sad for Lagoon, they couldn't get out of here. JD: How long was it before they opened the roads, do you remember? MH: Oh, it was only the next day they started getting the roads, see it would be just that canyon down there it wouldn't affect the farther below or above. It was right in front of Steed Canyon where it brought all that debris down and same with this canyon. So it wasn't long till they got the train running through here. So many of the boys that worked for my husband at Lagoon started walking, going down the track. They couldn't drive a car, they couldn't get out of here and anyway just walking. But I don’t think—I don’t think many got out that night. It was a wicked electrical storm. JD: Was it? 20 MH: Oh, and I'm frightened to death of lightning. I had my little four kids right under this piano and huddled under there with them. Milton said, my husband said, well I had to laugh, said "it was sad but it was funny." And I had short hair, my hair was down. I was drooped over just like I had been drowned. I was just worried till I was perspiring. I was trying to save my kids’ lives and worrying about my mother and father. They were both up in, well they lived to be years old. And so many older people alone. JD: That would he a frightening experience for them wouldn't it? MH: Yes, it was. Well I tell you it just seemed to me the whole world was coming to an end. We thought it was here. And to hear the sound of those big rocks clear up that canyon coming down. We drove up there and I'm telling you one as big as my dining room table—it couldn't move, it was right in the middle of the Big Creek up there, it was stalled right there. It got that far down and it rammed into other rocks and there it was. It caused a lot of heart attacks. I don’t think anybody died from it, I don’t remember, but a lot of them just passed out. JD: That would be quite an experience. MH: I never want to see it again. JD: Weren’t there more floods later on around 1930—wasn't there— MH: Yes, it come pretty near every year in August. We would think, oh is it coming again. August was always our bad time for floods. But I think they dredged the canyon ditches and got them deeper so it helped the water in both the Steed Canyon and the Farmington Canyon. So that did help a lot. But the rain was terrible. It was the heaviest rain, it just come down in streams, you never would believe it. Just like a cloudburst. 21 And I'm telling you this ditch our here, this road out here was just like a river. It just going down here in streams. JD: Then these floods that came later didn't do as much damage as the early one. MH: No, they got it in North Farmington a little harder the next time, but up near the canyons there, but our worse was the Steed Canyon and this Big Canyon up here. It didn't come down over our hills here like they thought it would. I don’t know where the water come from here, but it was a river. Course it was a downpour of a heavy rain. It was times you'll never, never forget. We lived in agony that night. And then those poor people being killed, those five little boy scouts, and— JD: Does anyone know who they were? Was there any record of it? MH: For years I kept that—their names that came in the paper. But I think someone took it, some of my kids you know to read it and didn't bring it back. But I took it out of the paper. We went down to the courthouse and saw them all lying there. They had them covered over of course. They showed us their little feet was sticking out there and I thought what a sad outing for those poor little fellows. JD: Well, their scoutmaster was with them I guess, but he wasn't drowned? MH: I don’t know what happened to him. I think there was one boy saved, and the scoutmaster. JD: Oh, I see. MH: But these little fellows happened to be sleeping together and it said they was kind of up on a knoll but it just dome down. It was a flood down there, it just swept them right down 22 into Big Creek and that's the one that runs under Lagoon you know--just east and south of Lagoon. I don’t know, I wonder if these things have to be. Well it's sad times JD: Well, it's sad times isn't it? MH: Yes, it is when you think of how this little boy Sunday night was coming up from Lagoon, four years old and right over there was killed. What was his name? I didn't know them. They walk up Lagoon for their cars you know, and they said that he had his daddy's hand until got right there and he was pretty near to the top of the hill and he let loose and ran and went right in front of that car. Pie didn't die till midnight that night in the hospital, but you just wonder why those things have to happen. JD: That's so sad isn't it? MH: One way that gets us out of here I guess. Got a plan for all of us. JD: I guess—everybody's different. Could you tell me a little bit about what times were like in Farmington, or with you, in particular, during the Depression Era? Did you feel like it was a really hard time here? MH: It was hard times. JD: Can you tell us a little bit about your experience? MH: You couldn't buy anything you needed. If they had it they had it hid. I used to accuse them of it and I said I know you've got it. They's things we went without and could not get and I worked in that store for four years down there and I knew they always—the manager always had everything. JD: Which store was this? 23 MH: It was right on the corner. The courthouse on that corner kitty corner over here. And I said I know that you've got stuff here. Then J. D. Wood had a store across the street, right south of the meetinghouse was a store, but when you went for it they didn’t have it. I says I know darn well you've got it. -But they were saving whatever it was, but oh, it was sad because so many people with little children they couldn't get milk. You know a lot of people didn't have their own cows. In my day we all had cows. I had to milk. Sunday night I had to go, my brother would hold the cow’s tail while I'd milk so it wouldn't hit me and mess my hair up. But they never would milk, said their hands was too big. I says well that's some excuse. But you know my father never did. My mother would milk. JD: Is that right? MH: I says all you males are alike you’re just plumb lazy. I'd have a date and I'd have to go home and milk. Mother had four girls and six boys and of course there was the older boys. Four of them had gone then up to Canada to make their homes. JD: What did your husband do for a living during the Depression? MH: He was a carpenter. He built everything at Lagoon there, with his help. JD: Was he working at Lagoon at this time? During the depression I mean? MH: He was, yes and it was hard to get material. It was hard to get any help and well it was hard to get people out there. JD: They didn't do a very good business then did they? MH: No, they didn't. It was just vacated for a long time. They just didn't get people to come out there. After that flood you see it stopped them going either. They couldn't get out of 24 here either way—anyway, there was the Short Line, the Rio Grande. A lot of them went down and walked that track and some of them walked the Bamberger track. That was the only way they could get out. They couldn't drive anything. The flood came down that canyon and over this one and then North Farmington's got a canyon and they were flooded up there. But it was just, oh a terrible thing. You felt like you was in the last days. It might come any time. Well for three nights it'd keep repeating you know, having the electric storm, but it didn't come the flood like it did the first one. There was so many widows in Farmington. There still are. My husband tried, he was in his little, old car, he'd go down—he tried to see about my mother and father. Their neighbor was old and in bed sick. And he'd go over there to see what they needed. And his mother was up here alone in her home. She lived on the main street, or did, and he run all night long. JD: Did you have a farm during the depression you know that you could get food from? MH: No, we just had this lot here and then my husband's been a carpenter all his life. He worked at and he worked at Lagoon and my father and mother had a little land but it was—they were too old, they couldn't raise anything. We had a little garden that they had. We had here on the back of our lot—we always raised all of the garden we wanted. Most of the people here had farms, you know, places where they could raise food. But there's some things you couldn't—if you didn't have a cow you didn't have milk. The store half the time wouldn't have it. I remember once when they called—they had— Bountiful sent milk up here during that next day after that terrible day we had because they just couldn't get it. But, oh people suffered. You know the worry and all of that. Some people had heart attacks and some people went to bed for weeks after. They just couldn't get over it. I'm telling you I thought the last days had hit us right then. And I 25 climbed under this old piano with my four little kids. My husband said "I'd give anything in the world if I'd had a Kodak and could have taken pictures." And I said "Thank the Lord you didn't have one. I would never want to see it. Farming- ton has been quite a productive little town. My father and mother lived here all their lives except a few years they were down in Draper. He was a railroad man and he was also— One girl, my older sister, one of the oldest, was born in Manti and I's born in Draper and then he moved back to Farmington. And their old home still stands down there. JD: And where is their home, do you know the address? MH: Well, I don’t know their address, but it's on the way to the Miller Floral. It was—they've camouflaged the old adobe room, they've put board all around it. There's a house on the corner and then there's a little new house there and in the meadow there's a house. My father had a meadow where he kept his cows. And then right there this little old house of ours is right next to that. And then there's another brick home and then another brick home where my sister lived. JD: And which side of the street is this on? MH: On the west, on the west you know where you go to the Miller Floral. But there's a history to that old home. I had so many things there. I died, I passed right out when my heart stopped beating. Well that was here. Down there I was hit by a car and passed out. But Up here it's when I—It was, I think was it 1918? They moved my big round table in here. I was pregnant and I started flowing. And the doctor came and he said "We can’t get her to the hospital." In fact we had no hospital in Bountiful then. And he said "We wouldn't have time to get to Salt Lake or Ogden." And so they performed an operation on me you know, took the baby from me and I died. I was dead five minutes. 26 And my husband was standing there and he says "Doc my wife isn't breathing, she isn't breathing." And he ran over and he got right up and left. He lived in Kaysville, Dr. Heath. Do you ever remember hearing that name? He left us and—no if was his partner left. And then Dr. Heath stayed here and he said "Done you have any elders?" Cause we're Latter Day Saints and my husband ran over to Brother Haight and my daughter, or sister, ran up and got Brother Millard and they administered to me and brought me back. And I felt like I had just come down with a crush. And I says "Oh, uh, it was heavenly, why didn't you leave me alone?" And so they got that in my book of remembrance. I was gone. I was just as dead as a mackerel. But it's strange the feeling you have. Oh, it seemed like it’s just beautiful. And I said, I said, "Oh why did you?" I came back with a crush to the table. I says "I was so happy, it’s so—I saw all--" I told who was here, but I didn't—the others all rushed in you know. They says "She's passed, she's gone, she's gone." And Milton ran for one sister to the other and they came and administered to me and I came back. I guess my work wasn't done. JD: You had a family to raise didn't you? MH: That s right, I had four of them. But it's a strange, strange feeling how things can happen like that so sudden. Well I've had two experiences like that. I guess nobody wants me. JD: Oh, I'm sure everyone wants you. MH: I'm not wanted here and not wanted there, I don’t—I'm just sitting, just waiting and waiting. 27 JD: I think you've done a valuable service, all your history and your knowledge and your service to others. MH: Well, I've tried all my life to help others. And I worry about people. I think of somebody being alone and I used to—my husband says we spend more gas on going and seeing your sick friends and I says well that's what it's for. I couldn't stand not to see them or know if they needed anything or if they were all right. Now I'm just tied—I don’t have a car. Half the time my daughter-in-law her car's gone. So I don’t do nothing. JD: I guess in the early days people depended on each other a lot didn't they? There weren't hospitals close. MH: Oh, yes, they didn’t have doctors you know like we do now. Well it'd be only one. We had a doctor from Kaysville. Dr. Heath would come down here. He had his office here over that store that's on the corner down there and Then he moved to Kaysville. He had more business there. He'd try and take care of too many. So we didn't have doctors. And then my son became a doctor. But that's Dr. Wallace Hess of Salt Lake. He's in a clinic. But course he was in Salt Lake then when he got his doctor certificate. But Farmington’s been—it's grown—I've watched it grow, it's still growing. JD: It really is now. MH: People moving in. They took me for a ride way down Clark Lane and down to Glover Lane and up around next to the mountain and I says, I had been in the hospital, it was in Hay, and I says "This isn't Farmington." And they took me way up around on Compton Bench and over towards Kaysville. I says "My word, they've built clear out that 28 way. And I says "I'm not in Farmington." And they're still building. Some of the old timers are gone and some of the old homes are still here. JD: There's a lot of history in those homes isn't there? MH: Oh yes, indeed there is. I wish I could have gotten more of the history. I started though when I was sixteen years old writing about Farmington. And in the DUP Irene Olsen, I don’t know whether you have met her or not, she says "Margaret what are you going to do with all these?" I've written oh, hundreds of pioneer histories cause I knew them— visited them and they told me their story. I'd go and ask them if did they had someone in the family to do it. No, they're not interested. But when they weren't, I did. I said well, I'm going to get it. JD: Oh, that's wonderful. MH: Because I've been historian for forty-two years in our camp and I says I want those histories so I started writing all those histories. And she said "My goodness, why don’t you get your own history?" I says "I’ve been writing it since I was sixteen years old." Little things here and there. So I've got my book coming out now. JD: Well, that's wonderful. MH: I hope it will be good. JD: People owe you a debt of gratitude for having their history written. MH: Well a lot of them appreciated it and a lot of them didn't want it. They didn't care to be known you know. But I think there's nothing like histories. I think the history is a part of your life. JD: It really is. 29 MH: The wonderful things, you don’t know they've done them unless you read it. JD: That's true and you can’t read it unless someone like you writes it down. MH: Someone has to—their family wouldn't. I tried—I went to them—I says "Don’t you think enough of your parents to have it written so you'll have it in your own family?" "Yes, but why does the public have to have it?" I says because they're interested. I like to read anybody's history and see the things that they've done and accomplished. I think it's wonderful to have that feeling that you want to know what they're—where they come from and what they've done. JD: We can’t teach our children about this without this either. MH: No, indeed you can’t. And they'll ask questions. They get so they want to know. Well since I've been a Daughter of a Pioneer I've done a lot of history writing. Hope it’s all true. My husband used to say "Mother do you think that's all true?" I says "Well it's as true as I can make it. JD: All you can do is rely on people. MH: What they've told me. But there's been some marvelous people in Farmington. Many, many of them have gone, they helped to make old Farmington what it is. Our old meeting house built in '62— JD: That's still the original building on the front isn't it? MH: Uh huh, the old original building. They've built a lot of little—we used to have an old opera house straight east of it, over on this corner, and I says "Your one of another rock vestry and another rock with a double top to it, upstairs and downstairs." I says to a 30 bishop, I says "Tell me are you going to build till you get over to the old white elephant, right through this block?" "Well, we'd like to." he said. They kept building north—or east. JD: What was the white elephant? MH: It was our dance hall. It was the old—we called it the white elephant cause it looked like an elephant, a big white—it was an adobe house it had—I think it was three windows on this side and a door opened here opened here and a window there and a window—this double door and you'd go up just four little steps. And we danced there, had the time of my life. We danced and danced there and we had all of our quadrilles you know, in there and we had all the old folk’s parties in there. And why they named it the white elephant is caused it looked it. It's just a big, old awkward looking—it had an adobe building, and it had a stage. Oh I never seen so many beautiful shows in my life as in there. All of those old timers-what was the one I loved so that—where the baby that died—or what the deuce was that story we had that about the baby, and so many stories that comes from the history you know, and they're interesting. But they finally tore the old thing down—the old white elephant. JD: Now would the local people put on the plays or would they come from out of town? MH: Well they—sometimes they—people would move in here with a show and bring it you know for spice and—but nearly always we had wonderful actors the—before my time. I remember as a child seeing it and they were really talented. Just seemed like they was born for that. They had all kind of—I used to be in one went up to Morgan and all through Layton, Kaysville. They'd travel with it. Once a week we'd go. I was just a little girl in it then but oh, it was delightful to go and stay night’s places and I knew so many people in Morgan, that's where my aunt lived, my mother's sister. And I knew so many 31 old boy friends was from up there. And so we used to have a lot of shows. I don’t know if they've gotten lazy, they don’t want to do anything. They don’t want to put that effort to practicing or dressing up. JD: They miss a lot not having those things now don’t they? MH: There was an old folk’s party over there we'd entertain and I've sang all my life. And Mr.—I don’t know if you know the Gregory’s down here— Mr. Gregory and I sang duets to funerals and to parties, then he died, ^e had a beautiful tenor voice. And I've enjoyed it so all my life I've been in things, helped to put on shows and things, didn't know anything, but I helped. Got help with their costumes. We used to have things like that. Every Saturday afternoon we'd have a matinee. And then at night we have a show for the other people over in the old white elephant. Why they tore it down I'll never know. Maybe it was deteriorating. JD: Who built it in the first place? MH: The pioneers. It was all adobe hand put up. Yeah that and they used to have one on the back of our church and they tore that down and started the rock—and I says are you going to go till you get to the white elephant? They kept going east and going through the block. I think that old barn's still over there or did they tear it down? I haven't thought —used to have a rock barn, great big rock barn over there, t JD: I'll bet there’s some interesting stories connected with your old chapel isn't there? Like for instance Sister Kogers and the Primary. You knew her didn't you? MH: Oh, I worked for her. JD: Can you tell us a little bit about her? 32 MH: And speaking in tongues was the first I ever heard of. It was, oh, it just made goose pimples go all over you. And another one get right up and interpret it. ^hey used to have it so—they—don’t know—I think the church took it away or—they—a lot of people said it was from the devil but it wasn't. They told things of these wars and things that was coming in those days, and they've been and gone, but they prophesied. There was John W. Taylor lived here and he had his first wife Nellie, and that woman would stand up and speak in tongues or she'd give the interpretation for somebody else to do it. And that would be in our fast meetings. And it was marvelous and I said don’t tell me it comes from the devil, cause I've lived to see a lot of these wars that we've had that was predicted in those prophecies and they've come and gone. And they's always told that Farmington would continue to build and it would always be a happy place to live in. Oh, there's been some wonderful things happen if you could just remember all of them. JD: Can you tell us a little bit about Sister Rogers that organized the Primary? MH: Oh yes, she was such a sweet little woman. She wasn't a well woman. She was very sickly, very delicate. But she had a mind, she could remember anything and she was always willing to help. And she told me that an angel came to her and spoke to her through the Lord to organize the primary. I used to work for her. The only thing I didn't like about—we had the old made home carpets we used to stretch, and she'd never let me stretch it. She'd rather have had a wrinkle in it. And I says "Oh you don’t mean it Sister -Rogers. You don’t—you want it tight." "No, I don’t, I don’t want you to hurt your hands." Lots of times I’d get it right to the wall and it'd slip. Got my knuckles all skinned up and I guess that's one reason she didn't want to injure my hands, cut if there was a little wrinkle she'd say leave it and I says 'We cant. I says I don’t like that, one of these 33 days it gets bigger and bigger and you'll trip over it." "Well try again then." she'd say. But she never wanted it stretched tight for fear it'd hurt you. JD: Now were you a young girl at the time you were working for her? MH: Oh, yes. JD: Do you recall how old you were? MH: I used to go—even when I was fourteen I'd go up there and scrub the kitchen you know, my mother taught us we had to work. And when we's little my mother taught us to work. We milked cows, and we did everything and load hay, and help our father and we'd help the mother. Well I used to help Sister Rogers and go up there and I've worked in the store too afterwards and then I'd take two days and go and help her and clean her whole house as I got older. But when I was younger I'd run errands for her and they didn't like to leave her alone, she was kind of sickly. And they says "Margaret", they called me Maggie then, “You can sit right here by her bed and you'll know if she gets out. We don’t want her to get out." And I'd sit there and I said "Sister Rogers I've got a stick here." She says "You have?" And I says "Yes, and she said "What are you going to do with it?" And I said "Have you ever been hit by a stick?" And she thought I was funny. She says "Oh you're funny." I says "I'm left here to watch you and you've got to stay down." She was a very delicate person, she wasn't strong, but her mind, oh she could do anything with that mind. She was such a sweet person, but stingy. I'd work my fingers off and sometimes I'd get fifty cents a month. JD: Fifty cents a month? 34 MH: A month. And so my mother went after her and she says—she had money. She had her a little home in between built there that she rented all the time. And then she had another place in Salt Lake that she had that she rented. My mother said, "Sister Rogers, my girl can’t work for you any longer for fifty cents a month." She said "If she's going to work she's got to get something to buy her some shoes." My parents had ten kids. And after that she paid me a little more, and a little more, but she was such a sweet tempered woman. I always said she and my mother were like two angels on earth. My mother was such a sweet little person. Always kind and if she had a tramp come to the door she never turned him down. My father said once, "Well mother would feed the whole nation if she had bread enough in the house." JD: That's wonderful. MH: And she'd never turn one down. I remember once when she was down to my grandmother's home, Jenkins home, is way down by the cemetery down in the field. The Rice’s live in it now and it's over a hundred years old. And she'd go down there and take care of grandpa and grandma, her mother and father, and we'd stay home and one day a fellow came to the door and wanted something to eat and we turned him down, my sister and I. And after he left, I says that could have been one of the three Nephites. He had whiskers all on his face and that's the thing we was always looking for. And we fixed a lunch and chased him way—half mile down the track and caught him and gave him this food. I felt good, I felt like my conscience was clear. And if he was one of the Nephites—and if he wasn't he was hungry. And mother said when she come home, “Well it was kind of a foolish thing but I'm glad you did it." She says "You don’t know." I went alone, my sister Rose was younger and she was coming down the track but she 35 was scared to death a train would come along. And I ran as hard as I could go and pretty near to the next lane going up. But I got him and I told him, I says "Here, we're sorry we told you a fib. I says we didn't have bread and I says we didn't have bread cause we didn't want to feed ya." And he sat right down in the middle of that track and ate that lunch. I started back ‘cause my little sister was a following me and I was afraid a train would come along. But he ate this lunch and he thanked me and God bless me, God bless you, God bless you he kept saying. I says "He's blessed ‘em now ‘cause my conscience is clear." Mother never turned one down and I says I never would again. It, oh it hurt me so in here to think it—I know how it is to be hungry I said, I said to my sister "We've got to go fix him some lunch." And she says "Well look where he is, he's a mile away." And I says "Oh no he isn't." I says "We got two good legs and we can go and catch him." And we did and when mother come home she says "Well I'm glad you did that, that's good girls." I said "You'd a done the same." -But living near the trains tracks down there we had so many people come like that. They'd come all the way up from the Short Line and even clear from the Rio Grande down in the field there. We took cows down there for years and rode a pony and when I worked in there for a Mrs. Piatt I'd take care of the children, I's only a little girl, but when the tramps would I come there she'd say "Oh, I don’t know if I've got anything." And I says "Sure you have." And I'd go fix them something to eat. Wouldn't be ten minutes till here'd come another one. And I thought well, maybe they're you know they marked the gate. We'd watch them right there, our gate was white—painted white. And then we had a hedge that was about this big and it finished all the end of our lot, and they'd take a knife and cut a little chip out of it—paint chip:—out of the picket. And the next would come along and he knew he'd get 36 fed. We watched them do it. Well one fellow, I bawled him out, I says "You tell each other don’t you where you're fed." And he says "Well sometimes little girl we have to." He says "You know we get awful hungry." And I says "I know you do, I’m hungry too and I'm right where food is." JD: I guess this was mostly during the depression that these men would come round wasn't it? MH: Oh, yes, we had so many then, they couldn't get food and the poor things no work and it was really sad. We weren't well-to-do either. Mother made all of her bread. -But if it was only a crust of bread like the old boy said, it would be good. And they didn't care if there was butter on it or not, but we gave them best of what we had. Even wrapped it up in waxed paper. He'd throw it away, throw it away ‘cause he had no use for it after. Oh, there's many funny stories that happened in this old town. JD: Where did you go to school when you were a youngster in Farmington? Was that the school up on the hill there? MH: No, that was built in 1911. JD: Oh, I see. MH: But I went to school in the old academy that used to be on the south of, the bank—or west of the bank. JD: West of the bank. MH: Uh huh, the academy. I went to this school down here where Merrill’s live. JD: Where would that be? 37 MH: The rock house right on the corner. Dave Merrill and his wife live there. JD: I see. MH: And it's the old adobe house that I went to school in and then there's a little ante room they'd set us, we'd sit in there and have our lesson. The teacher taught in there and then he'd come in and teach us in the morning and then we could go home. That's when we was beginning. And then the big rock one that still stands, I went there to school till— graduated from the eighth grade there. They start, the old academy belonged to the county and then Farmington bought it. I think Bountiful got it then, and then Farmington bought it from them. And then we went to school there. Cut I went up to this old rock school, they didn't have room enough down there for all of us, it was two story. JD: And where was the rock school located? MH: This one that's down here? JD: You said you went to the rock school. MH: Well, that was this rock house of Merrill’s. JD: Oh, that's the same one, I see. MH: The living room's beautiful in there now. JD: Oh, and that's the original school house? MH: That's the original school house. The adobe school was run this way east—or south and north. They tore that away when they bought it, but that was our school. That's was where—we sat in this little ante room until our teacher'd take us in there to teach us you know. We'd have to sit there and wait and then we'd go into the class. That would be in 38 the morning. We didn't go in the afternoon, that's when we was just beginning. Yes, those old schools were memories. JD: And you'd have just one teacher I guess for all the grades? MH: Well, a Mr. Abbott taught, L. E. Abbott, taught there and Orson or Henry Soul, my brother in law. He taught down to the academy too. That’s where I graduated from.in the eighth grade. And then we had different ones. Hampton from Centerville. We had a number of teachers like that every year some—they'd change you know. Sometimes they'd go two or three years. But this was a school our here and the academy was a school. And then they had one right where the old depot is. That was my first school. It's still there. It's the Bamberger Depot. You know as you go down to Miller Floral? It's right on this corner. That's where my sister and I were the janitors. We were just in our teens and we swept it every night, and locked it up and fight the kids away. And they'd pay us a little money and cause my people were quite poor. JD: Where did you go to school after you graduated from the eighth grade? Did you go beyond that? MH: I got married. JD: Oh, I see. MH: I didn't go to college or anything. That's why I'm so dumb. JD: Oh, you've got the experience of life though. The eighth grade then was as far as they went at that time right here. MH: My sister went to the LDS College and she was the only one they could afford to, but she working and she was helping pay her own way. But the eighth was the highest they 39 went there. And so after I graduated, my husband and I both graduated from the eighth grade and got married. JD: How old were you then? MH: I was about what 19 or 20? Because we couldn't afford to go the college and I worked in the store for four years. JD: Well how old were you when you started school then? MH: Oh, I was six. JD: Six MH: Uh huh, we could go when we's six years old. And I started then right where my first school house is down on the old school house the Bamberger Depot is. That's where I first started. That's where my sister and I were the janitors. We cleaned it up to get money. Then we had one little girl, she lived way down the, we called it the dummy, the dummy track. Lived way down there and we'd just locked up, just locked up and she said "Margaret I've just—you've locked up my dog in there, he'll raise blazes." and I says "Well he'll have to stay there I can’t” And she looked at me and the big tears started to drop—and I says "Oh, I was just kidding with you." So we went and let her dog out. I knew we'd have a mess if we left him in there. °o we got her out and her dog went home. JD: Did they have a high school in the county then when you were young? Like well you know, Davis High in Kaysville. 40 MH: No, Davis High started long after I was married. I don’t think so unless it was bountiful. Kaysville could have had one but we never went to school after my eighth—after I graduated. I went to school getting married. JD: Right. MH: This old home is 68 years and I—my husband built it. JD: Well, I think that this has been real interesting and I appreciate your telling me this. 41