In the fall of 1918 my next brother Jared enlisted in the Army and was stationed at Fort Logan, Colorado. This was the year that the great Spanish influenza plague swept the country. The little town of Richville had its Gethsemane, too. Dozens died in only a few days. Our first casualty came when our older brother, Abel J. Dickson, succumbed to the dread disease on the 16th of October 1918, leaving a wife and five young children, and in another two days we received word that Jared had passed away at Fort Logan. Mother had the disease, Elbern was down, and I was sick. Abel was buried without a funeral, and only a few remarks were given at the graveside. He was carried into the room where Mother was at death'sdoor, then taken to the little Richville cemetery for burial. When we got home, it was discovered that he was buried without some of his burial clothes, so by flashlight that night he was unearthed, the casket opened, and the dressing was completed. We were so weak and exhausted because of our sickness that this experience proved to be a most difficult task. The sadness that filled our home was almost more than we could take. In several days Jared's corpse arrived at Morgan. We were there to meet the train, and as we went into the car for his remains, we noticed that the train was full of caskets. I asked the soldier in charge, 'Do all these caskets contain dead soldiers?' His answer was, Yes, and there are seven other cars that are all full of Army boys who have died at the Forest Logan Army Base.' We took the casket over to R. H. Welch's undertaking establishment and opened it to see if we had the right boy. We brought him home and carried the casket into the house for mother to view. This was more than I could take, and so I went upstairs and was followed by Elbern, who said, 'Mother will be the next to die.' I knew that Mother would not die at that time because I had received a witness that she would live until I became a man. I am unable to describe the downcast, blue, and brokenhearted feeling that existed in our family. I will leave this to your own imagination. My rather could not shed a tear, and my poor mother, so weak and sick herself, went through the most heartbreaking and trying time of her life. Jared was buried in the Richville cemetery by his brother Abel without military honors and with only a few members of the family present. Elbern was about to enlist in the Service when the armistice was signed on November 11,1918. The world war and the influenza epidemic was over, and we all got to feeling better.72 Many other homes in the stake were struck with similar tragedies. Only a few names of the many who died are recorded in the stake minutes because they were 'prominent church workers' at the time of their deaths. President Joseph F. Smith passed away 18 November 1918, only one week after the signing of the armistice. No public funeral could be held, but the Saints lined the streets to pay tribute to their prophet as the body was carried to its final resting place. Heber J. Grant was selected by the Twelve Apostles to be President of the Church on November 23, but he was not sustained by the membership of the Church until the following June because no conference could be held with the flu raging,73 At a special stake auxiliary meeting held 29 December 1918, President Heiner expressed his gratitude that they were able to meet. It had been three 109