There were 60 children, three sleigh loads, with 20 in each sleigh. We all sat on the bottom of the sleighs with plenty of quilts over us to keep us warm. The School Board and the oldest boys were the drivers. On the way through Morgan, we stopped at the store where the trustees purchased an abundance of good things to eat for dinner, to be eaten at my house. After we had feasted on the good things and while no trains were on schedule, we proceeded to the tunnels. There was a railroad bridge to cross just before we came to the largest tunnel. The tunnels then were simply holes cut through the mountains, a one way track, no lights and dark inside. When I think of it today, I would count it a perilous thing to do, crossing a railroad in winter with 60 children of all ages—but not then. We were all simply thrilled with such an adventure; so we crossed the bridge and began the trek through the tunnels. We were soon all inside and it was getting darker and darker when we heard an odd rumbling noise coming closer and closer. It took but a minute to realize that a train was rounding the point of the mountain where we had crossed the bridge—and a special at that—seeming to come like lightning. There was little time to think—we had to act quickly! I told every child to lie down at once and get as close to the wall as possible and not to move, nor try to get up until I told them that they could. The fast freight was upon us—its noise almost deafened us! The smoke almost suffocated us ! Great fear almost over came us as it thundered past us and disappeared through the opening on the other side! After the noise grew fainter and the smoke began clearing, we all crawled out, terribly frightened but unhurt. As we came out in the opening toward the light, we began brushing the dirt from our clothing and were beginning to breathe easier when one of the older boys, looking around said, "Where's Hugie?" Sure enough (Hughie—Hyrum Hugh Phillips), son of Thomas and Esther Dilly Phillips was missing. He was only six years old and the littlest boy in school and he was not with the rest of the children. The two oldest boys and myself hurriedly —18— *< rushed back and entering the tunnel found little Hughie lying face downward and scarcely moving. One of the boys said, "Hugh get up!" Little Hughie moved and turned his face toward them and said in a brave but frightened voice, "Did teacher say that I could?" That was years ago when I was only 18 years of age and now I am 88 years. My kind and loving father, Benjamin F. Smith, who showed us through the tunnels, the busy School Board members, Joseph Taylor, Henry Florence and Joseph Durrant who took us for the ride and banqueted us so generously and little "Hughie" have all passed to the Great Beyond. The little one roomed school house too, is a thing of the past. But the love and trust of a little child is the same yesterday, today and forever. Little Hughies words, "Did teacher say that I could?" will go singing in my heart down through all the years and will echo on the sands of time forever and forever—throughout all eternity. HISTORY OF THE SIX OF YOU Thelma and family at Kathryn's to a family dinner, Jan. 12, 1953; Del mar with the Sunday School General Board members at Yellowstone for Sunday School convention, Jan. 13. 1953; LaVern with his orchestra at a Saturday night dance, Jan. 14, 1953; Ross and family in Ogden, Jan. 15, 1953; Mildred and her orchestra play for a dance in Wilson Ward in honor of the Retiring Bishopric, Jan. 16, 1953; Shirley and family at Vera Cruz to celebrate RaShirl's 16th birthday, Jan. 17, 1953; went to Sunday School in the morning, Church at night, and paid my tithing. Delmar, Laurel, Dee, Janice and two children came and had supper, invited me to go back with them and go to Mildreds, for she was taking me to Midvale to celebrate Bernie's birthday, Jan. 17, 1953. Feb. 6, 1954, went to Relief Society in the afternoon and MIA in the evening; Feb. 7, 1954, Jake and Mildred came. Miss Purl gave my house a good cleaning and we had dinner and I went —19—