THERE'S A SWEET old lady out in Grantsville who can truly and actually be said to be "one in a million." She is Mrs. Hilda A. Erickson, who, among Utah's million inhabitants is the only one left who came to this state by crossing the plains prior to the coming of the railroad on May 10, 1869. As such—Utah's only living pioneer—she is the lone survivor of an estimated 80,000 pioneers who made the long trek by wagon or on foot to settle the state. Her story, which is nearly 105 years old, be¬gins on Nov. 11, 1858 at Ledga, Sweden where she was born, the fifth in the family of Pehr and Marie Katarina Anderson Larson. THE FATHER, who owned a small farm, joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and in May, 1866, sent his wife and three youngest children, Hilda and her two youngest brothers, to the United States, staying on in Sweden with two older boys with plans to make the trip later. It was a long and difficult journey in those days. Mrs. Larson and her young children were driven in a wagon to Goteborg, and from there sailed on a small ship to Denmark and thence to Hull, England. Then came the long trip around the south of England, through the English Chan¬nel and on west across the Atlantic to America, a trip that took their sailing ship nine weeks. The Swedish family arrived in New York in July, went by train to St. Joseph, Mo., and from there took a small river boat to Omaha, Neb. THIS WAS the jumping-off place, the frontier, from where the rest of the way would have to be by ox team. It was on Oct. 22, 1868—nearly six months after leaving Ledga—that the family arrived in Salt Lake City. They stayed in Mt. Pleasant for a short time, the father and two brothers joined them, and then, due to Indian unrest, the united family moved to Grantsville. They lived in a small adobe house across the street from the old First L.D.S. Ward Chapel. Hilda went to school and helped her mother weave and sew after school. Hilda was adept with the needle, and when she finished the school at age 14, she became a dressmaker, plying her needle until late at night and turning out a dress almost every day. She also made the uniforms for the Grantsville Brass Band which was organized about that time, with 15 members. WHEN SHE WAS in her twenties, John A. Erickson came into her life. He courted her, and must have been as persistent as his intended bride, for he proposed several times only to be told with a grin, "I'm too busy, John." But his persistence won out, and the couple was mar¬ried Feb. 23, 1882, in the old Endowment House in Salt Lake City. The following year they were called on a church mission to Deep Creek Valley, near the Nevada border where the church had a large ranch in Goshute Indian country. The couple set out, she driving the team and wagon, and he herding their four cows. Four days later they arrived at the ranch which was to be their home for ten years. There was plenty to do for the young couple. A Sunday School was established and "Hiddy," as the Indians called her, was its secretary and also its English teacher. Classes and Sunday School were held in the Erickson home, where Hilda also taught the Indian women to sew, mend and make clothes, as well as read and write. SHE SOON BECAME the "doctor" for the area and became so proficient in the healing art, it was decided to send her to Salt Lake City to take a course in obstetrics. This posed some difficulty because a year and half earlier, Amy, the Erickson's first child had made her appear¬ance. But Grandma Larson came to the rescue and took care of the girl while Hilda was taking the course. She was graduated in 1885 and re¬ceived a state license to practice obstetrics. In Mrs. Erickson's present home, hanging on a wall, there is framed license, dated April 2, 1901. A few years ago, she noticed the date and asked her daughter, "Do you think I ought to get it renewed?" Armed with the state approval to practice, she returned to Ibapah and began a real service, practicing not only obstetrics for whites and Indians alike, but also sewing up wounds and cuts on animals and humans, using a buck¬skin needle. She rode side-saddle all over the area on her errands of mercy, delivering babies, treating the sick, pulling teeth, and performing other medical services. As an added responsibility she also cooked meals for miners who were coming into the area on what looked like a mining boom. The meals were 25 cents, she recalled. In fact just about everything was 25 cents, there | being a shortage of small change. Even a spool of thread cost 25 cents. As Salt Lake City was 200 miles away by four-horse team, the Ericksons operated a trading post, dealing with Indians and whites. Sometimes the Indians got strange ideas. Mrs. Erickson recalls one buck who got in debt to the j store. When asked to pay up, he replied, "Oh, me like white man now, me no pay bill no more." And another time an Indian complained that a white man had taken the buck's bridle, saddle and horse.