1 George Henry Rasmussen and Rose Smith Rasmussen Written by Kenneth Rasmussen Edited (punctuation and clarification) by Wilma Jensen Jephson.Morgan D.U.P. Picture No. 2017-6; No. 2017-7; & No. 2017-8. Metadata No. 010D.-accompanying History obtained from FamilySearch.org. George Henry Rasmussen Born: 8 Sept 1866, Farmington, Davis, Utah Marr: Rose Smith, 2 Jan 1893, Porterville, Morgan, Utah Died: 21 November 1943, Coltman, Bonneville, Idaho Parents: Mads Peter Rasmussen and Karen Sorensen Petersen Rose Smith Born: 21 Jan 1874, Bountiful, Davis, Utah Died: 29 Sep 1962, Idaho Falls, Bonneville, Idaho Parents: William Smith and Mary Hibbert who came from England . George Henry Rasmussen was born in the early fall to his immigrant parents, Mads Peter Rasmussen and Karen Sorensen Petersen. Sorensen was her Danish surname, but she was required to take the surname of Petersen when she entered the United States. Their home was an adobe, built on the farm that lay to the east of Great Salt Lake in the small town of Farmington located in Davis County, Utah. Peter had purchased this farm shortly before George Henry's birth on 8 Sept 1866. The adobe was warmer than log houses as it was more air tight. The adobe bricks had been formed by mixing clay and water to make a thick mud which was poured into forms and sun baked to cure. Mads Peter secured some livestock, cattle and horses and was doing quite well. Mads Peter and Karen had made their home briefly in the Salt Lake Valley after their arrival with the Nelson Wagon Train Company in 1859. They had moved to Centerville where Laura Rasmussen was born in April and died in November of 1860. Their son Peter was born in Centerville in August of 1862. They had then moved to Richville where Mary Catrena was born 1864. In 1869 when George Henry was little more than 2½ years old, Karen left Peter. Family traditions among the descendants of Peter's later wives state that Peter was fond of playing practical jokes. Apparently as Karen rounded a corner of their home, she received a face full of milk thrown from a bucket by Peter. Whether intentional or not, it didn't matter she could take no more and so left Peter. Shortly after the separation, twins were born to Peter and Karen. Some of the early notes on the family at this point are unclear, stating that they then "moved to Weber Valley and from there to Salt Lake Valley". It is assumed this refers to Karen and the children; however it could refer to Peter. Karen then moved to Richville to be near her parents, taking the children with her, except for young Peter, who went with his father to Bear Lake where they settled at Montpelier. In about 1869 or 1870 a divorce was granted and Karen met and married John Cheney who had served in the Mormon Battalion. To them were born two children Achia Elizabeth and David James Cheney. Peter in the meantime courted and married Anna Gertrude Clauson on 25 January 1870. George Henry says of his stepfather, "Mr. Cheney was very good to us children, and was anxious to see us get ahead." He saw that George Henry began going to school; he studied the first reader in the summer and later Rasmussen Family-George William (child), George Henry (father) and Rose Smith Rasmussen (mother) –The above photo was copied from FamilySearch.org. 93 2 three months in the winter in Richville. Mr. Cheney had been good to Karen. Once when she was sick he had ridden horseback to a distant town to buy a half pound of rice because she thought she would like some. He died on 15 March 1875 leaving Karen to care for their family. In April 1872, Young Peter died in a drowning accident. His father was going on horseback to Ovid from Montpelier on business. Anne Gertrude (young Peter's stepmother was anxious over her husband's safety) asked young Peter to ride with his father as far as the stream, the outlet to Bear Lake at Ovid, and then return and tell her. When his father reached the far bank, he heard a noise and turned to see young Peter trying to follow. He saw the horse had already entered the swift current and began to lunge forward throwing young Peter into the stream. Peter immediately turned back to his son's aid and dove into the water; but the high spring runoff had turned the stream into a torrent, sweeping the young lad under and out of view, and Peter could not find him. He went for help, but it was nine days before the boy’s body was found. Young Peter had been only 9½ years old and it was a blow to both of the families. He was buried at Ovid. It should be stated that the outlet is considered treacherous. Shortly prior to the time of this writing in August 1990, an experienced cowboy (who had safely crossed perhaps 50 or more times) suddenly found himself and his horse swept away and going under. He was saved by grabbing hold of a fence post as he was swept by, and held on. He had to cling on to await the arrival of a boat before he could be pulled from the water. Peter, George's father married a second wife (third if you count Karen), Anna Maria Peterson Ahlgreen, in polygamy, 1873. When George Henry's step father, John Cheney died, George earned his own keep by cutting and hauling wood for his mother and by working for neighbors doing chores, At 10 years of age George Henry went to live with his father and his wife Anne Gertrude at Bear Lake (Montpelier). Here he was able to attend school for two winters, attaining the fourth reader, which he was never privileged to finish. In that era, the school achievement was judged by reader, not by grade level as we do today. He walked to school 3½ miles each way. When George was not in school he helped his father feed cattle. They also cut ice on Bear Lake and put it in storage. The common method of storage was to place the ice in a straw or sawdust lined pit and to cover it over with straw or sawdust, for summer use. The ice seemed to be a commercial enterprise. George Henry was baptized sometime in 1876 by Glaspey Waidren and confirmed by Fred Kingston, the precise time and place were eventually lost. From a pioneer fur trader who dealt with the Indians, Peter Rasmussen found out about a stream whereon lie a number of springs, some fresh, others so extremely salty that the salt lay crusted about the outlet. A Mr. Odercourt [other spellings for his name: Odercurt. Odicert] became involved, whether at this stage or later is unknown. Peter set out to find the springs and after a week or so located them on Crow Creek, a distance of some 20 miles or more from Montpelier. A claim was filed, metal purchased and boilers constructed and they began boiling down the salt laden water to a fine crystal. The salt was sacked and transported to the nearest railroad station, Evanston, Wyoming, some 80 miles distant. In investigating the area in August 1990, it was found to be largely abandoned. The mine, or pit had been worked occasionally, but left solely to nature the last several years. It appears that originally, salt may have accumulated in the form of slabs around the outer areas of the spring, which could have been used for livestock. The spring itself appears to have flowed irregularly, depending on whether it was a wet or dry year. 94 3 It was the custom of a small salt works such as this, to gather what salt could be gathered and to flush or wash the soil together with the salty spring water, and then to boil it down and collect the purified salt crystals. The crystals were usually spread on the ground to dry. Drying was enhanced by working the salt with a hoe or rake-like scoop, after which it was piled to await bagging. The first fine crystals that appeared were table quality, followed by those larger and less pure which were for other uses. While George Henry was with his father, a Mr. Rolf and a Mr. Hunt came from Star Valley, Wyoming to get provisions for the men who were cutting trees and sawing ties to construct a branch line of the Oregon Short Line Railroad between Evanston and Montpelier. George begged to take a team and go with them to help haul supplies. Anna, his second mother, who watched after the children, was concerned for his safety and prevailed upon Mr. Rolf to take George Henry into his camp in order to keep an eye out for his safety. George Henry loaded on 15 sacks of oats and started out on his first real adventure. The first stop was his father's Salt works where he loaded on ten, 100-pound-bags of salt which would sell for the tidy sum of $.75 each. As the summer wore on, they stopped in Afton, Wyoming, where they watched workmen finish building the first homes in that community [probably 1880). George Henry hauled salt to St. Charles, Star Valley and many points between Evanston and Montpelier for both his father and for the Co-op store [affiliated with ZCMI]. His father and Mr. Odercourt eventually sold the salt works to the Co-op and it was known as the Co-op Salt Works and also as the Zion Salt Co. In the fall George Henry began working for the railroad while they were building the road bed through the sloughs of Bear Lake Valley near Montpelier. He had a team of horses and a slip scraper with which they built up the road bed. This was very hard, fatiguing work and after 2 months he was compelled to quit for he had what was thought a siege of rheumatism. He returned to his father's home and Anna took care of him. Here he came down with what was called Saint Vitus Dance. Saint Vitus Dance, more properly called "chorea", is a condition closely associated with rheumatic fever, common in children, particularly females, between 7 and 15 years of age, and exhibits itself early in stumbling, bending, difficulty in the use of the hands as in tying shoes and writing, and in nervousness and irritability. This gives way to involuntary, uncontrolled and uncoordinated movements of the face, limbs, and body; it is accentuated when excited but disappears when sleeping. The chief remedy, particularly in early days was complete bed rest. It is possible that what George Henry had was rheumatic fever accompanied by chorea, and not rheumatism at all. Some early family notes called it rheumatic typhus fever; at any rate after considerable rest he recovered. George Henry’s mother Karen married a Mr. Neilsen in early 1878. It was his intention to build a new home for her so he moved her to a sod home on Wilson Lane. Mr. Neilsen was not a member of the church and soon after the marriage Karen realized that it had been a mistake. Mr. Neilsen [none of the children ever knew his given name] disliked children and mistreated them. Mary, George's sister, felt at odds with Mr. Neilsen and at an early age (probably 14) married Arthur B. Clark without Mr. Neilsen’s consent; whereupon they were ordered out of the home and told never to return. A neighbor becoming aware of the situation sent word to Peter Rasmussen that if he cared anything about his family he should come to their assistance. When he arrived, he found that Mr. Neilsen had been selling off Karen's property and cattle without her consent; she was still in the sod house and no effort was being made to build the promised home. A lawyer was hired and a constraint placed against Mr. Neilsen preventing him from selling any of Karen's property. 95 4 With this change in events, Mr. Neilsen decided to leave and Karen was persuaded to move to Bear Lake where Peter could help look after the children. It became Peter and Karen's desire to be remarried, to which Peter's two wives readily agreed. However, the church authority at that time stated that Karen had forfeited her right to be his wife and that should they marry, they would both be excommunicated. Karen then returned to Richville after having lived in Bear Lake a summer and a winter. Here she wove carpets for a living. Apparently George Henry went back to be with his mother about this time for a brief stay, after which he returned to Montpelier and worked for the railroad for about 3½ years until he was about 17 or 18. In 1883 he moved to Richville to be near his mother. He found a job working on the farm for Mart Lowe. He also cut and stored ice. His father had been suffering from rheumatism and dropsy and in 1882 had been wanted to leave the area for his health. That fall Peter hired a man to drive his cattle; and taking his wives and families, started for Arizona. He got as far as Ashley Valley [now Vernal, Utah, where one of the children became sick which delayed their travel. Peter’s own health seemed to improve and they remained at Ashley. In 1883 or 1884 Peter came to Richville and asked George Henry to return with him to work for a Mr. Chadwick. George may have been working for Mr. Lowe for up to 2 years by this time. George Henry returned with his father to Ashley, completed the job for Mr. Chadwick and returned again to Richville. His mother had rented out her farm before she had gone to Montpelier and when she returned to Richville her home was in use so she had to rent another, hoping the rent from her farm would supply her needs. This it did not do. When George Henry returned to Richville, he determined something had to be done for his mother. The renters were cheating her out of her share of the crops and the farm was run down and wasn't producing. George Henry bought 30 acres of her 50 acre farm, thus giving her an income. He built himself a two-room house on it, dug a well nearby and curbed it, and dug and curbed his mother's well besides. In those days a well was usually dug by having one man work in the hole and having another man to haul the dirt away. The man working in the hole would dig the hole with sufficient diameter to allow him to work adequately, spading up the dirt and throwing it from the hole until he was so deep he could no longer throw the dirt out. Then he would use a bucket on a rope, fill it, and then signal for the dirt to be lifted out of the hole. This continued until he struck water in enough quantity to assure water flow in dry seasons. To prevent the walls from crumbling in and filling the well with dirt, the walls and sometimes the floor were lined, or "curbed", with stones. George Henry farmed his mother’s ground along with his own and restored the soil back to productivity. He cut and hauled firewood for her and provided her with fresh deer meat. He also went back to work for Mr. Lowe, and among other things dug irrigation ditches for him. For this, he showed great skill and soon his skill was in demand by many of the area farmers. His skill was in his ability to lay out the ditch so the water would flow naturally with a gentle downhill slope throughout its entire length. This necessitated following hill sides or sometimes building up low spots to get the water where it was needed, and this he did without modern survey equipment. He may have employed a simple shallow pan of water situated on a pole with a floating object to use for sighting a line. He had to turn many good offers down in order to care for his own place. In 1889 George Henry turned 23 and he began keeping company with Susannah (Susie) Hughes. It seems his brother Joseph also became interested in Susie. So George Henry found his own beautiful Rose—Rose Smith. Joseph married Susie in 1892 and moved to Star Valley, Wyoming. They finally settled in Smithfield, Utah where he worked for the Smithfield Canning Company. George Henry "saw" or dated Rose Smith for nearly 4 years before popping the question. They were married in her father, William Smith’s, home in West Porterville, Utah 96 5 on 2 January 1893 by Bp. Samuel Carter. George and Rose lived in the house that he had built on his farm near his mother’s property. Religion had been a great factor in his parents’ homes and in either one of them he was often called to lead in family prayers. Whenever anyone was sick, the Elders were called in and by faith many were relieved of their suffering. Rose's family was also accustomed to these religious practices, so they were prepared to live the gospel and make their home a place of prayer and thanksgiving. Arthur B. Clark (who was George Henry 's brother-in-law as well as being a traveling dentist and the bishop of Freedom Ward from its inception in 1891 to 1894, persuaded his mother-in-law, Karen, to sell her farm and move to Star Valley, Wyoming. It is said he also offered George Henry a-year-round job working with his (Bp. Clark's) team if he would also move to Star Valley. There must have been more to it than that; perhaps the Morgan and Richville wards were asked to settle Star Valley as many of the earliest settlers of Star Valley were from Morgan and Richville. Freedom had become a useful town to those who were trying to avoid the marshals who were sent to harass those who lived in polygamy. Since it straddled the Idaho-Wyoming border, when the marshal from one state came, families would simply cross the street to a friend's home in the other state. A great many of the earliest settlers of Star Valley came from Bear Lake; some were polygamous and most were Mormons. In June 1894 the move was made to a farm in Freedom. This was, however, a disappointment. The water which George Henry depended upon to make the crop failed to materialize—as did the job with the team. Family sources state that Bp. Clark had changed his mind and moved to Afton using Karen's money to make the move. There was no home forthcoming in Freedom and Karen was more than mildly upset. She wrote a letter to Bp. Clark complaining of what she felt were unjust actions. Upon the receipt of the letter he returned, took Karen back to Morgan and found a home for her there. For George Henry, the only work he could procure was with the hay for neighbors. In truth it is doubtful that Bp. Clark moved to Afton for he maintained a home and his farm just east of Freedom for many years after this time. In 1894 the Etna Ward was formed and Bp. Clark's farm fell just inside its southwest corner. George Henry got work from Bp. Osborn Lowe [possibly a brother of Mart Lowe of Morgan for whom George Henry had worked before]. Bp. Lowe took an interest in him. In those days members carried a recommend with them when they moved from one ward to another. George Henry had lost his and of necessity had to be re-baptized and reconfirmed. This was done on 2 August 1894 with William Crouch performing the baptism and Bp. Osborn Lowe doing the confirmation. George Henry and Rose's first son, George William Rasmussen, was born shortly after on 23 August 1894. On 12 December 1894 George Henry was ordained a Deacon and then "elected presiding Deacon" which office he held for "2 years". In those days it was not the practice to ordain young men to the Priesthood at the age of 12. Older men were ordained to such callings as were warranted at that particular time and place. It appears that this winter George Henry brought grain down to Idaho Falls [called Eagle Rock] until 1890 to be ground to flour. When he arrived he was told by the millers that they were only grinding "Indian wheat" for flour and he had to continue on to Blackfoot. The following spring they moved across the Salt River to live in a one roomed house with a lean-to. Afterwards they found that they had moved to where the Indians came down to water their horses and to fish. The Indians 97 6 were treated as friends and as a result, they were treated well in return. The Indians were often in their home and they had many exciting experiences. Some of the people of the Jackson Hole area were not friendly with the Indians and devised a plan whereby they could force them out of the area and onto the reservation. At the time, the system of requiring hunting licenses had just become law and it was assumed that this applied to Indians as well as whites. Renegades from Jackson Hole, on finding any Indians, would demand to see their permits, and then when the permits were presented, would tear them up, then beat or otherwise abuse the Indians for having no permit. If enough Indians could be found without permits, they would all be forced out of the area onto reservations away from their natural homeland. A number of Indians from the Wind River Reservation proceeded, as was their custom, to fish and hunt near what is now the Hoback Junction. The renegades brought the law officers and the Indians were arrested and were being escorted to Jackson for legal processing. The Indians had their rifles taken from them leaving them no means of defense and nothing for the hunt. The Indian chief Jack Meeks suspected treachery; so as they came to a certain mountain pass Chief Meeks gave a yell and the Indians scattered. The authorities opened fire, cutting down Chief Meeks’ young nephew. One of the squaws was carrying a papoose on her back and bent down flat on her horse to avoid being shot. Low hanging branches swept the baby off her back and fearing for her life she had to make good her escape. On returning for her child, all that was found was a patch of blood on the leaves, wild animal tracks and the baby's clothes. Other stories relate that the whites found the Indian baby boy who was taken to Jackson and raised. The Jackson Hole people spread the word that the Indians were on the war-path. They claimed that in a pitched battle, they had driven off the raging Indians and that the Indians had escaped into the mountains and were intent on taking their revenge by scalping and burning out the whites at "Freedom Valley" (the lower valley). They were at that moment headed across the mountains. An alarm was relayed via a circuitous route through Blackfoot, the closest large settlement with a telegraph which was able to relay the word overland by messenger through Greys Lake to Afton, a well-used trail of the day. Here miners of the area set out on foot to notify the Lower Valley. A plea also was sent asking for help from Ft. Douglas at Salt Lake. During the transfer of information, the story changed and was embellished until real fear struck the entire length and breadth of Star Valley. It was August of 1895 and the men were all busy harvesting hay or grain. The initial reaction was to head for home. Then all the settlers of the lower valley were asked to meet at Glencoe (now Thayne) at the Glencoe Ward for common defense. The upper valley settlers were asked to meet at Afton. George Henry and Rose determined to make their own bullets (as everyone did) before going to Glencoe. According to the account given, George Henry’s sister Annie, who must have been visiting said, "I'll watch through the window and hold the baby [George William]." So George Henry melted the lead and poured it into the molds. Caps were placed in the bottoms of the shells; powder was measured or weighed and added. The lead bullet completed the process after which Rose dipped them in deer tallow for water proofing and placed the shells in the pouch for carrying. Since George Henry's sister, Mary Catrena, lived only a couple miles away it may have been her instead of Annie. At any rate, they all went up to Glencoe, having hidden their flour and valuables for safe keeping, pending their return. They met behind Franklin Bracken's grocery store, forming a ring of wagons for protection. There were some settlers, however, who for one reason or other never did hear about all the commotion. There were some also who chose not to leave, like the little German immigrant woman who wouldn't leave her "coos" [her chickens] for the Indians. 98 7 The soldiers, when they arrived, consisted of a unit made up primarily of black people. They would pry into the houses and more trouble was had by them than by the Indians. Additional officers had to be sent for to keep them under control. By this time the Indians had come up the Greys River Trail to Meadow Creek. They came over the pass at the head of Strawberry Creek and down Dry Canyon. Here they camped and sent out scouts. They saw all the commotion in the valley and were afraid to cross. The settlers also sent out scouts, one of which was George Henry's brother Joe [Joseph]. Quite by accident the two sets of scouts came upon each other. Joe and the other scouts learned that among the Indians were Chief Jack Meeks and John Collie, both well liked and trusted by the whites of Star Valley. After an exchange of information between them, Joe agreed to lead the Indians across and out of the valley and sent the other scouts back to inform the village of his intentions. One Ben Welch lived at the mouth of the canyon from which they chose to emerge. George Henry's half-sister Achia Cheney worked for Ben Welch and they had decided to remain and milk the cows. As it was growing dark, Ben heard an Indian yell, and looking up saw all the Indians coming. Startled, he jumped up and quickly set the buckets of milk down spilling them. Achia hid behind a large post. Ben reached for his gun. Then Joe stepped into sight with his hands raised. Immediately the Indians came forth, surrounding Joe with their hands raised. There was no shooting and eventually Joe, with the assistance of others, was able to help the Indians leave the valley in peace. It is not clear, but perhaps that fall George Henry again went to Idaho Falls to have grain ground to flour. His half-sister Annie Maria had married William Clarke and was living in Iona. It appears that at this time arrangements were made for George to come to Iona. William Clark wanted to build his own home, but was working for Kid Owen. He made the proposition that if George Henry would cut the timber and get it out for William, William would let George Henry take his place working for Kid Owen. Back in Star Valley, George Henry was ordained a Priest by Osborne Low on 15 January 1896. In that day it was customary to be re-baptized before going to the temple. This was done 23 April 1896 and he was ordained an Elder the same day by Arthur B. Clark. On 25 April 1896 before the snow began to melt, he left Star Valley with his small family on a rugged move. They had to ford streams and the Snake River and they had to break their way through snow drifts nearly all the way to Iona according to some accounts. Likely they had snow in the upper hills but were in some mud in the lower areas. George Henry worked a short time cutting timber up the Snake River from the vicinity of Kelly Canyon, floated it out, and hauled it to a sawmill to be cut into lumber. There was a waiting time at the mill before the lumber was ready for delivery to Iona for his brother-in-law William Clarke. In all this, he acquired enough money to take Rose and George William to Salt Lake where they were married and sealed as a family in the temple on 10 June 1896. In those days it took from 10 days to two weeks to make it to Salt Lake from the Upper Snake River Valley. Roads were poorly defined, not much more than cattle trails over which a continual string of wagons passed. In the more cultivated areas they passed through individual people's farms and there were numerous gates to open and close as one made his way. The roads forked often with no signs along the way for direction and unless you knew the road you could easily be several miles off course before you realized it. Apparently this happened to them. When they returned, George Henry commenced working on the home of Kid Owen. Some family sources say this was for William Clarke and others say it was for Tom Lee. It appears it could have been either or both. 99 8 William Clarke did live in Iona [Ammon] at that time. Tom Lee had been the school teacher in the lower Star Valley and may have had connections in Ammon where a number of the Lee family lived. When Rose and George Henry moved from Freedom, they were not able to bring all their goods. They still had their furniture, a cow, a mare and her foal. About the first of September George returned to Star Valley to retrieve them leaving Rose behind. His second son decided to arrive on his (George Henry's) 30th birthday. He was called Henry Benjamin, born 8 September 1896 which was quite a surprise for George Henry to return home to. Unfortunately Benjamin died on 24 August 1897 in Iona and was buried there. This fall [1897] "Hen", as George Henry became known among the men on Snake River, went to work for the Eagle Rock and Willow Creek Canal Company. Kid or C. J. Owen happened to be on the first Board of Directors for the Canal Company and undoubtedly Hen's ability to work with water became known to Mr. Owen. Hen and Rose moved to Birch Creek, or Poplar as it became known, in October 1897. Later in the fall he came down with typhoid pneumonia and was unable to work for some time. The Eagle Rock and the Willow Creek Canals were constructed under the supervision of John Empey who became a close friend of “Hen” and Rose. These canals, along with the Anderson canal, extended from the Snake River to the natural channel of Willow Creek. About three miles further on is a large check or headgate where Sand Creek emerges from Willow Creek. “Hen” served as an "under boss" on the construction of this headgate known as the Haskin's Check. Concerning work on these canals, Rose tells the following experience: "George Henry Rasmussen was instructed by John Empey to close the headgates to the Eagle Rock and Willow Creek Canal. It was early in the day when he made the trip to the gates. With the use of large grappling hooks, he cleaned out the trash which had accumulated at the gates. Then he manipulated the heavy timbers, of which the gates were constructed, using the big jack and holding bolt to get the gate in position for lowering. But the soaked timbers bound against the studding, and the gate held tight in spite of all his efforts to loosen it. He shook it. Gripping it tightly he pushed from one position to another when suddenly it gave way and the heavy weight dropped before he could loosen his grip on the upright timber. He was caught by the first two fingers of both hands. He tried desperately to get loose, but to no avail. All day he waited hoping someone would come along within hailing distance. His condition was becoming intolerable. Being a prayerful man, George Henry could, and did pray, whether vocally or in silence; but his endurance and fortitude however great this day, diminished as the darkness deepened. A wind came up and if the timbers in the big bridge creaking from the force of the river beneath him gave him distress, the wind beating against the bulwark of the dam gave him agony. Then an exceptionally hard blast hit the headgate and he found the timber releasing its hold against his crushed fingers. Quickly he drew them out just as the boards came together again. He was free! As the blood coursed again through the veins he knew the torture of returning life. Stumbling in the darkness from fatigue and distress, he made his way home to his worried family." [Kate B. Carter, Pioneer Irrigation, Upper Snake River Valley, 1955, p. 1361 George Henry and Rose's home was located between one-fourth and one-half of a mile north of the old Poplar store, on the west side of the road and north of the Anderson Canal. It consisted of 160 acres, much of it being sagebrush and gravel. The home, long since gone, was built in a grove of cottonwood trees which runs through the center of the section. No description of the home exists, but likely it was of log construction. It had a dirt 100 9 floor, covered with a rug or rag carpet, and padded with straw. The home must have been a fair size for its day because, it is said, they held church meetings there before the new church was built. The Birch Creek Sunday School was first held in 1894. An organization of the Sunday School was started on 20 March 1898 with Josias R. Young as superintendent, Thomas Morgan first assistant, and George Henry Rasmussen as second assistant. There were 8 officers and teachers and 37 students. At its reorganization on 27 April 1902, George Henry Rasmussen was called as the superintendent with John Wheeler as first assistant, C. A. Bassett as second assistant, Martha Riley as Secretary and Rose Rasmussen an assistant. There seemed to be some opposition to the Mormons in the community for when the Mormons used the school house, tempers flared. It made no difference that the other churches of the town used it also. Rather than cause feelings, the Mormons discontinued use of the school house and they met in the members’ homes until a new building could be secured. George Henry served on the committee to build the new church. A site was secured south of the Poplar store at the west edge of the Blaine Wheeler property (as of 1940). Rock was to be had for the taking. “Hen” went up Kelly Canyon and hauled out timber for the roof. Some was taken to the mill and sawed for flooring and window and door frames. Glass and nails were purchased in Eagle Rock [Idaho Falls], and with the enthusiastic help of the saints of the community, they soon had a church of their own. “Hen” was proud of their work. As a crowning touch he went up the canyon and selected a slim, tall pole for a flag pole and some of the women sewed a flag. The Mormon opposition was again upset. Now the Mormons had their own church house and were meeting in it and other community members couldn't do anything about it. But what was worse, the Mormons had a nice church and they didn't. When John Riley purchased 440 acres of land near the river in 1898 he found that a portion of his land, along with an adjacent area totaling well over 800 acres were all too high to receive water from the Anderson canal. As his land was surveyed he realized that if a ditch could be run along the bluff from the head of the Anderson Canal up to and through the Rush Beds, the barren area could be brought into production. “Work began in the summer of 1899 when John Riley, Thomas Morgan, Thomas and Joseph Riley, George Henry Rasmussen, Peter McFarland, Samuel Hammer, Oscar Wheeler, Edward Morgan and Daniel Radford, Jr. started the [Riley] ditch. They followed the contour of the foothill—a route that had previously been followed by the Anderson Canal. When they were working on a higher grade they encountered a hill made up of large boulders and gravel and the next mile was rough going. The Anderson Canal was thirty or forty feet almost underneath; and the muck from the cut had to be kept out of it. The hill was so steep the men had to go first with picks and shovels to make a trail for the plow horses to follow. Finally a narrow ditch was worked out as far as the Anderson dam. At this particular spot (after the water was brought there) they found the coarse rock used in the bed was porous and baked. From the Anderson Dam on up to the Rush Beds was also rough. Instead of having the Anderson Canal to protect [the embankment], the mighty Snake was licking the side of the hill on which they were working. They found it necessary to work brush and trees into the muck they were moving out to keep old-man-river from taking it away. With the coarse rock fill-ins. it was hard to get a ditch bottom that was watertight. “Even through the Rush Beds construction was difficult, trees had to be taken out and roots and brush removed that would interfere with the plows and scrapers. Finally in about 1900, the ditch was completed at an approximate cost of $13,000. As time went on it was discovered the heading would not supply sufficient water late in the summer; so the ditch was extended a little further upstream. The extension of three or four hundred feet had to be cut about ten feet deep and the gravel pulled out with horses and slipscrapers. They took about 101 10 one-fifth yard at a trip. To make things worse the men encountered cement gravel that was almost impossible to penetrate." [Kate B. Carter, Pioneer Irrigation, Upper Snake River Valley, 1955. p. 118, 119] Shortly after construction of the Riley ditch began, Joseph Lloyd Rasmussen was born on 19 September 1899. Mary Smith Rasmussen followed on 3 December 1901. Rose was called on to assist in the construction by giving room and board to some of the men who worked on the canals and headgates. She cooked meals and took in washing. “Hen” and Rose had one of the first telephones, an old hand-crank model, the wires to which were strung initially on fence posts until regular poles could be obtained. The phone was of great value to those working on the canals. At times everyone needs supplies. John Fielding Rasmussen relates the following story of his mother and father: "Trips to Idaho Falls, or Eagle Rock as it was then called, were seldom. So as the work on the feeder and canals progressed every person who was travelling through was plied with orders for the families around for foodstuff, nail kegs, lumber, tools, etc. for the men who were in need of materials on the river. Supplies for the headgates included blasting powder, dynamite, nails, spikes, and other items. "George Henry and Rose had concluded their marketing in Eagle Rock and were on their way home at about dusk with their wagonload. The roads have changed so much that I can't trace their journey, but they did touch Beech's Corner, and were near a canal close to where the Archie Barrie farm is [about one mile east and a little south of the old Ucon church house]; but at that time there were no farmhouses around. "Usually Rose loved the trip, but coming home, she became very frightened, for no apparent reason, and George Henry was becoming uneasy also. When Rose began to cry, he stopped the team, and wheeled it [the wagon] off the road into the willows. That particular area had sagebrush of an unusual size; the whole area was called by some, a sagebrush forest. "Then came to their ears, the noise of galloping horses and the voices of men coming—boisterous, loud voices of men bent on mischief. Suddenly they stopped—like they were undecided in their direction. Silently, Rose and George Henry sank to their knees in the wagon, hardly daring to breathe, hoping the horses would not betray them, or that they would not be seen. They prayed and listened. Then they heard voices: “But, we were right behind them.” ‘But there's no noise of a wagon either way.' “We must have missed them a ways back.” ‘Let's go. We'll find another wagon to loot!' "There they had their answer. Robbers, presumably from Jackson Hole, had been in town, had seen a well-loaded wagon and followed it out of town; and then just when it was in a good place to be raided, it had disappeared off the road. Suddenly the men flashed by them, unheeding the loaded wagon stopped in the stray willows in the dusk. Swearing and slapping their reins at their panting animals, they galloped by. After waiting for the hoof-beats to quiet, the shaken couple carefully pulled back onto the road. As soon as possible, they left the oft-ridden road and continued home. "Later they heard how a man a few miles away had been seen by some raiders, and had been wounded as they shot at his lantern. They mourned at his trouble, but felt they had had the Lord's care in escaping with their lives 102 11 and the wagonload in their care." [L. May Cheney, ed., Just Folks, Family tidbits and treasures for kids. 1978, p. 14, 15] The water level in the Snake River rose and fell with the seasons of the year, and in some seasons it was nearly impossible to maintain a sufficient water supply for irrigation needs. Therefore in 1901 construction of the Anderson Dam, or weir to direct the flow of the river past the headgates began. The swift current would simply sweep even the largest rocks downstream making all attempts at construction in any but the driest of seasons futile. In 1902 a plan was devised to construct cribs of logs, float them and hold them in place with cables, then sink them with rock, thus forming an initial structure over which additional rock could be added until the final size and shape could be gained. To do this, small barges, or ferries as they were called, were built. They were moored by cable and a pole was employed to move crosswise of the river current. The ferry would be loaded with large rocks at the river bank, moved midstream to the crib, and unloaded. All this required a crew midstream, one on the ferry, and another gathering rock for delivery to the ferry. Men had to be hardy and agile, especially the crew in midstream where a slip could mean a life. They were usually ready to spring a prank or practical joke at the slightest provocation. But they really cared for each other, often saving one another’s lives. In getting the rock from the hillside to the ferries or "stone boats" which took the rock to the cribs in the river, horses and a crude sled were used. Once the sled was loaded, the men would follow it down the hillside to help load the rock into a boat. One time as the men were thus going down the hill, when they reached a particular place there was only a narrow strip where the men could walk as the hill dropped off straight down to the boiling waters below. An awkward fellow was in the lead and “Hen”, winking to John Empey, reached up and nudged the man ahead as though he wanted to pass. The man moved slightly towards the edge of the precipice. Henry grabbed him suddenly, pulling him back and simultaneously pointing towards the sheer drop with the water beating on the rocks below. In the surprise and confusion of the moment, the poor man never realized he had been in any real danger; and on recovering from his surprise, thanked “Hen’ profusely for saving his life which was much to “Hen's” chagrin. Even years after, the man was still of the same opinion and thanked Henry whenever they met. With the situation of the cribs, there was a great need to have a smaller rowboat to move men about. Apparently one of the supervisors confronted William Smith [possibly a brother to George Smith, a prominent early settler of Poplar] with the proposition. "All right," said Will, we will make one." "Did you ever make a boat before?" "No, but we can do it." "What will you use?" "We'll get some lumber at the yard." "He didn't think we could do it," continued William Smith, "but we went and got lumber and “Hen” Rasmussen and I made us a boat. I was a little fearful of it because we put the common house flooring on it nailing it to 1-inch boards, but it held and it was used a great deal on the job." This boat was named the "Minnie" and was George Henry's pride and joy. Just after the construction of the "Minnie" Mr. Ririe, Smith's, boss came to him to request the use of the boat and his assistance. Evidently, a structure of logs had previously been placed in front of one of the headgates in the river to fend off any floating trees or branches that came down the river. Instead of pushing them off, they were pulling them together and threatening the headgates. Mr. Ririe had had two men working with ropes, grappling hooks, etc. for half a day and had been able to only pull two poles out. Mr. Ririe was out of patience and out of time, it had to be removed immediately. 103 12 Smith and “Hen” prepared a charge of dynamite with a long fuse, put it in the boat and took it out to the log jam taking care to keep the charge from getting wet. They placed the charge, lit the fuse and pushed off for safety. Abruptly the charge went off throwing logs, water and debris skyward. When it cleared, the log jam was gone and the threat to the headgates with it. This became the first big job for the "Minnie." It was used continually for dynamiting, saving lives, getting men to hard-to-get-at places, towing rope lines and a great many other untold services. When construction was finished and it was time to put the ferries and boats to rest, the upper construction ferry was removed. The lower ferry was rebuilt, placing the river boats (probably including the "Minnie") as an underlying keel for the new passenger ferry. The ferry fell to the ownership of the Rapp family and became known as the Rapp ferry. During construction of the dam and the headgates, the canal companies maintained a constant vigil on the river itself. The Snake River had a mind of its own and particularly in the spring of the year it would continually change channels and wash one bank or another away. It was a constant effort to keep the Snake within its bounds and channeled towards the headgates. To do this, crews were kept busy building up the river bank or filling cribs. In those days a great beautiful tower of rock stood by the river, straight down from the mouth of Kelly Canyon, where the old ferry was built. That fire-colored rock was a tall mass, rising straight up from the river bank. With so many rocks along the river being slate grey or black, its coloring was unusual, and made an easily noted landmark. One spring the men were tired of hauling rock down the canyon to the river. The rock nearby having already been used, they thought of a shortcut. Several of them tied dynamite around the base of the tower. They planned to set and blow the dynamite, using it to drop the enormous rock tower over into the river to protect the bank. An entire month's work might be saved. To insure success, they placed more dynamite around the base. They stood back to watch the miracle happen. All was silent for a moment, until a tremendous blast shook the ground. A huge choking cloud billowed up, but the men fought their way through it to see how it had worked. They were disappointed, as all they could see was a yellow stain in the current. Men standing on the other side of the river saw the huge tower go. It consisted of soft sandstone, and the dynamite blew it to pieces. Even the upper part crumbled as it fell. Like throwing a handful of dust into a ditch full of water, the powdered rock had all floated away and done no good at all. Ever after that when folks would ask, 'Where is that beautiful tower that used to stand there?’ some men would scowl, some would race off on some errand, and a few would say how they knew all along that blasting a sandstone tower was a dumb idea. But George Henry never revealed how he stood on the subject. The above was the family tale which doesn't exactly fit with another version of the story: “The Great Feeder was constructed to divert water into the "Dry Bed", an ancient bed of the Snake. After an initial dam was washed away, the Great Feeder was constructed about 1895. "For several years the Feeder carried plenty of water, but then came a bad year. During high water levels the river cut another channel, which was known as the Hot Spring Channel; this left the Great Feeder without sufficient water. Again a meeting was 104 13 called and it was decided to dam off this Hot Spring Channel. By the use of cribs filled with rock, brush, and large trees, the jam was completed which brought the river back in the channel which supplied the Feeder. This was a hard and expensive undertaking. Thousands of loads of rock and trees were used in this work. The writer (C. P. Smith) worked on this job hauling rock from the mountains east of Heise Hot Springs—a small mountain known as Kelly Rock was blasted down and entirely used up in the construction of this huge dam." Kelly Rock which stood 45 ft. high and 60 ft. wide stood on the north bank of the Snake River about one mile upstream [east] of the Great Feeder and just below the old upper ferry. In early 1900 Heber Bauer, felt certain that Kelly Rock, the distinctive landmark could be an indispensable asset in the vital construction of the dam to restore the natural channel. After extensive study, the charge of 500 pounds of dynamite and 3,200 pounds of black blasting powder were set in place. The initial blast loosened the rock and the second "placed the rock across the channel, closing it to such an extent that it raised the river 18 inches. It was as though a hand from Heaven had laid the rock in place." [Kate B, Carter, Pioneer Irrigation, Upper Snake River Valley. 1955, p. 179. 195]This too was apparently a stretch of the facts. In the days of the building of the dams and the Great Feeder, Rose took in boarders and cooked for some of the men. The work went on summer and winter. In icy weather, many times she saw the men lie flat on the sleigh when coming home, because their clothes were frozen so stiff from the water which had splashed on them that they would be broken if bent. By the time they arrived home, the frost generally had softened enough to allow them to sit at the table. During one of these cold spells, one of the men who bossed the job came in early one day saying that the weather was so bad they would surely have to stop. Sitting close to the fire he became cozy and warm while the rest of the men at the dam became colder and colder waiting for orders to quit. At last someone came from the dam asking if they were to quit because of the weather. From his place by the fire, he boomed back. "Hell, no, the weather has moderated." Going out later, he had to "eat his words" and let the men go; but not without a lot of ribbing about "the moderating of the weather". The water front humor was easy coming, usually in the form of pranks and practical jokes on one another. Whoever was the butt of the joke was probably the one laying the plan for the next one. Often is was as simple as holding the branches or brush back until someone stepped close, then releasing them so the branches slapped the incomer on the hands or face. The perpetrator would exclaim: "How lucky you are I caught the branches just in time or they would have hit you harder. During a time when they were camping out at the work site, a Mr. Moss had been missing for several nights just after supper. It was suspected that he had gone fishing, but he never brought back any fish. Someone was selected to spy on him and find out what he did and where he went. The spy rigged up a shirt on a cross-like stick frame to hold it up and in the air. He crept up on the unsuspecting fisherman, dropped the tails of the shirt about his own head, then leaning forward, let the empty sleeves dangle down over Mr. Moss's shoulders. A startled Mr. Moss whirled to see a headless ghost looming over him in the gathering darkness and heard it exclaim, "Now, where are those fish?" Keeping his eyes on the seemingly headless phantom, Mr. Moss swung his willow fishing rod, which landed with a whack to the pranksters head, and soon was chasing a fleeing ghost into the camp where the men went wild with the hilarious situation. Mr. Moss later said, "I knew if I hit hard enough, even a headless ghost would run." "They even found humor in an awkward situation and someone’s misfortune. At one time there had been a foot bridge built out over to where the dam was under construction. One man was sawing pieces from a thick plank to extend the foot bridge. Instead of holding onto the long piece he was sawing from, he only saved the short piece, letting the large plank slip from his hands. E. J. Hall, who was in a boat below, was struck by the falling 105 14 plank and sent sprawling into the river. As it was in the spring of the year and the river running high and swift, Mr. Hall was being swept down the river. "Mr. Rasmussen called for a boat to be brought to the rescue, but the rest of the men could not see what had happened, so they were slow in answering. Either Hen crawled up the rip-rap onto the bridge and ran to shore where he got a boat, or one was brought by a Mr. Laughlin. Anyway, Mr. Laughlin was in the boat and while Hen was getting into the boat the oars were left up and the gushing waters swept the boat under the bridge, breaking off one of the oars. With only one oar, they were in a bad way for they could do very little in the torrents around them. As the river boiled over the rock, the boat was swung around and about and it was all the two men could do to keep it right-side up. "In the meantime, Mr. Hall had got hold of a log which had risen up from the swirling water and was hanging on with might and main, sometimes being able to control its course. The boat was being swept farther downstream and as the river became a little smoother, they were able to have better use of their oar. Finally, away down the river, all three men were able to guide themselves to a sandbar in the river. Mr. Hall was all right, but both of the men in the boat suffered minor injuries. "Days were generally pleasant, busy, even hectic, but pleasant. It was not to always be thus, for on January 8, 1904 little Alice Elizabeth "Lizzy" was born. Her brief life was marked with sadness. Her health was poor, perhaps a result of Rose’s diabetic condition which was already beginning to exhibit itself. At any rate, Lizzy had 2 or 3 sick spells. Then probably sometime between May and June was struck with a fatal disease. It was only through the power of the priesthood that her life was restored to her for a brief month or two. Sometime in early August, George Henry and Rose went across the river to visit their niece and transact some canal business. They were delayed in their return when a terrible storm arose. "They felt impelled to get back, although they knew it was going to be a very dangerous trip. The storm was terrific, tearing at the ferry boat, and straining the great cable lines. "They could not get in close enough to shore, and they had to run and jump across to the bank. Baby Elizabeth fell into the water when she was thrown to her father, and he jumped in and saved her. "On arriving home, they found the windows broken by a tree which had blown down. A fire had been caused by lightning striking the telephone wires, and had been put out by the children, but the straw under the rag carpet was still smoldering. 'Baby Elizabeth became sick from the chilling she had received, and never got entirely well afterward. She died 27 September 1904, and was buried in the Ammon (Iona) cemetery with her brother." [May Cheney, ed., Just Grand Folks. 1984, p. 34] A more detailed account is given in the story of Rose's life. It is interesting that on the day before Elizabeth's death George Henry and Rose had completed the homesteading process and filed the necessary fee, $6.00, in Blackfoot, the county seat of the then Bingham County on 26 September 1904. The warranty deed was dated 30 June 1905. George Henry seemed to be terrifically involved. Some have said they couldn't decide what his occupation was and what his avocation was. He worked on the headgates—sometimes as foreman: Eagle Rock and Willow Creek later combined and was called the Progressive; the Anderson Canal and headgate; the Great Feeder; the Burgess and of course he worked on the Snake River itself. His 160 acre farm required much of his attention, breaking up the sagebrush, plowing, planting and harvesting. As mentioned, he was involved in the construction of the church and was in the Sunday School Superintendency. He was interested in education, helped build the school house in the upper part of Poplar and served on the board of trustees. He enjoyed hunting and fishing and took time off to take his family swimming at Heise Hot Springs. 106 15 Alma Dee was born 11 May 1905, the 6th child, 4th living. Young George William had begun to attend school and in the fall, Joe also started school. The usual winter path home was to walk in the dry canal bed. One day tracks in the snow were found which showed a cougar had sat eyeing them from a willow clump overlooking the canal as they returned home, walking in the ice and snow covered canal bed. On 2 February 1907 a deed was recorded transferring the family’s interest in the Riley Ditch to the newly formed Poplar Canal Company. That year came also a depression making it very difficult to sell any farm produce. It appears that the farm was probably not very profitable and that pasture was short, for young George William was sent out with the cattle to pasture them on the grass of the rolling hills above Poplar where at times he had to remain on his horse to keep from the marauding coyotes. A combination of these events prompted George Henry to look for a new residence, While working on the Burgess Canal, which tied into the Great Feeder system, George Henry became acquainted with a number of men from the Poverty Flats or Grant area. From the Lower Poverty Flats area [Coltman] he met Joseph Bidwell, the Wilkins, the Hudmans and others. In particular he became acquainted with Silas D. Rawson who was a real estate salesman and a part-time piano salesman. Mr. Rawson must have painted quite a picture, for George Henry and Rose were caught up in the idea of finding a new home. There was an ideal farm, Mr. Rawson’s, which would be just right. There was a new home already on the land, and can you imagine, there was even a new piano that went with the house! Mr. Rawson saw to that! So on 24 December 1907, George Henry and Rose loaded their belongings and their little family into the sleigh and moved some twenty miles to Coltman, arriving late in the evening. George Henry called it their Christmas gift to Coltman. They did not sell their farm at Poplar immediately for there was a mortgage against it for $1,600 held by William McMaster. He also held 35 shares of their Capital stock in the Poplar Canal Company as collateral. To this was added another mortgage of $200 to G. G. Wright, 6 January 1908, due in 5 years at 12% per annum. This doesn't seem so much today, but when you consider that he was making good wages on the dams, $3.00 per day working at hauling rock, or $6.00 when working mid-stream, it can be seen that these mortgages were large sums. At this stage we do not know what the mortgages were for; however, in that day all loans were mortgages secured by real property. The deed to their farm was recorded 1 October 1908. Usually deeds were not recorded until payment was complete so it appears that things had gone well. One of the things that Rose engaged in became called "slaughter day", the day of the week when she would slaughter the chickens to fill her weekly orders. Whether it was begun in connection with buying the farm in Coltman or at some other family financial crisis is unclear. Rose made an agreement with George Henry that she would take care of the household expenses by raising garden produce, bees, chickens or whatever. In exchange she would either, (1) not have to help in the fields, and/or (2) get something special for the house [the piano?]. The real reason is not now known but it seemed to be a good arrangement and continued many years and in later life proved to be the major means of their support. 107 16 George Henry was ordained a High Priest in December 1908, probably at the same time he became Second Councilor in the Bishopric to Bp. Eberhard Bauer on 13 December 1908. Sometime later when J. Bybee moved and was released, George was sustained as First Councilor. He was released about 1913. Years later he served on the Stake High Counci1, He and his family helped build the old-one room frame chapel in Coltman, probably about 1910-1915. There was a need for a new school also and again he and his family came to assist. The status of the family was changing. John Fielding was born 8 April 1909 and Hannah Jane on 29 February 1912. (That was a concern to her for she only had a birthday every 4 years.) In 1915 the Kelly's Farm Directory lists 8 residents (2 parents and 6 children—the oldest 21 and the youngest 1 year) living in the family home, on a farm of 90 acres with an assessed valuation of $4,250. They were renting an additional 80 acres owned by R. C. Gordon, through Houston and Churchill Agents, whose offices were in Idaho Falls. George Henry was raising hay, grain, sugar beets, potatoes, hogs and chickens. [Kelly's Dir, Pub, Boise, 1915.] Lucy was born 28 March 1915 and Ella was born 31 October 1916. George William married Ethel Robinson on 20 December 1916 and bought a home of his own. Pressure for living space was great on the family; George Henry managed to finish two bedrooms upstairs with boys in one and girls in the other. John slept in a small crawl space under the stairs. A "lean-to" room was also added. Mary came down with what they then called spinal meningitis in about 1916 or 1917. She had suffered greatly and they feared she was dying. She was so thin and in so much pain that she could only be moved by rolling her on a sheet and moving the sheet. They sent for Dr. Brooks, who after his examination, said he only had enough medicine for one treatment and that they would have to place it in her spine. Rose didn't like the sounds of it and hesitated. She asked Dr. Hollister. "If she were your child and she were dying, would you operate?" Dr. Hollister hesitated, and said that he wasn't sure he would like the medicine in his daughters spine. The Stevens came over and Sister Stevens said, "Don't let them do it but call in the Elders and have her administered to." So after the family and friends had formed a prayer circle and prayed, George Henry, Brother Stevens and Brother David Taylor administered to her, giving her a blessing. Mary began to mend. She continued to improve, but it took time for she had been so desperately ill. The family all knew it was an answer to prayer. As a result of her illness her hair began to come out by the handful. Finances had been a real strain. Mortgages which had been due in 1912 had to be renewed for a 5-year term. With the coming of the war (World War I) prices were better. Joe remembered standing in the beet field while topping beets and hearing the peal of the bells announcing the end of hostilities. He had been preparing to enter the army but did not have to go. Fishing had been one of George Henry’s favorite activities in which he indulged when occasion permitted. He also continued to hunt on occasion. His experiences at Poplar had helped him become an adept swimmer and he would find time to go to Heise. This became an annual event where he would take the whole family and stay two or three days. As he became older these trips became less frequent and the younger children missed the opportunity to share in that activity. A late arrival on the scene was Robert LeRoy Rasmussen who was born 20 June 1919. 108 17 In 1920 it was found that the ward building was too small and needed updating. Construction began in 1921 and George Henry and his family came to help build the new rock church. Joe drove a team to the quarry at the Annis Butte to haul the black basalt rock. And when sand was needed for the mortar, he drove a team for that also. It isn't stated when the building was finished, but it was dedicated 25 August 1929. George Henry had a habit of standing, when he wasn't busy, with his hands behind his back forming a kind of cup-shape with his hand. He was standing this way one evening at a Ward party. Someone slipped up behind him and dropped an egg in his hand and then everyone got a big laugh when he pulled his hand out from behind his back with an egg in it. George Henry was easy going, which didn't always pay off for him as people took advantage of his trusting nature. It was about this time (1921) that Rose's mother, Mary Hibbert Smith, came to stay. Rose's father, George William Smith, had died in 1915 and her mother had lived in Porterville near Rose’s brother William (Uncle Will). Whether Mary Smith was sick or just wanted to be near her family is unknown, but apparently her stay lasted several months and ended with her death on 24 July 1921. Again dates are unknown but about this time, it could have been as early as 1917 or as late as 1924, that George Henry had appendicitis. He was stacking hay at the time, and had been nursing a constant pain in his side. On the Rasmussen farm, hay was stacked using a derrick and a "Jackson fork". Hay would be pitched onto a wagon and hauled to the derrick where the stack was to be formed. The man, who ran the hay wagon, also ran the "Jackson fork" which was suspended by cable from the derrick. The fork would be inserted into the hay on the wagon and closed or locked. Then the fork with a load of hay would be elevated to clear the stack, and swung into position by the one who would be doing the stacking. On command, the fork clasp was released, or tripped, dropping the hay into the desired position. Stacking required great skill, agility and effort, and was very taxing of one’s strength. George Henry continued to work on the top of 'the hot hay stack, but the pain became acute. Eventually he had to stop and they took him to the hospital where it was found his appendix had ruptured, causing waste material to be spread in the body cavity where infection spread throughout the cavity and into his intestines. Several feet of intestine had to be removed to save his life. Without the antiseptics, the pain killers and the antibiotics we have today, it was touch and go for some time. His health waned as he was also plagued with arthritis or rheumatism. As time went on and Joe got married, Jennie was called on to assist her father in the fields. Apparently Alma and John did the real work in the fields until Alma left. Jennie would accompany her father to do the irrigating where he would instruct, "dig a dike here" or "fill a gap there". She would do what needed doing and he would assist where he could. George Henry had done quite well, considering, and had a desire to help set up each of his sons on a farm of their own. He was able to help George William get set up. Then he was assisting Joe. In 1924/1925 Joe bought the 40 acre farm just to the east known as the Sievers place which his father had bought from George William in 1921. Apparently George Henry had also bought the larger Taylor place across the road north and to the east. The intention was to trade property after a year or two with Joe taking the Taylor place and George Henry taking the Sievers place. However some financial difficulty arose in 1925 and George Henry found himself over extended financially. Joe had to sell the Sievers place back to his father and the Taylor place had to be let go. In addition, a heavy mortgage was placed on the farm. 109 18 His daughter Mary left for nurse's training first at Rexburg and then at the Spencer Hospital (later the LDS Hospital) in Idaho Falls. After graduation she continued her nursing career, living in Idaho Falls and returning home whenever she could. On one occasion she went fishing near Heise with George Henry and Alma. A call was received that she was needed at the hospital and John had to drive to where they were fishing to bring her home and take her to work. One day while visiting Alma and his family, Arland wanted some chocolate milk. Mary cut her hand on a can while opening it. Infection set in, possibly stemming from a particular patient she was called to care for in Intensive Care; this led to blood poisoning. In those days there were no antibiotics or other effective methods of treatment. They used bread and milk poultices which was the only thing they knew that might help. But the poison spread causing intense pain and suffering. She died after only a few days on 23 November 1929 and was buried in Idaho Falls. This was a great loss to the family. Alma began working for Smith Chevrolet in Idaho Falls in about 1924. His training was accomplished by turning the car over on its side on the edge of the straw, where it was disassembled and then reassembled. Alma married in 1926. John Rasmussen married Florence Sylvia Peterson and Hannah Jane Rasmussen married Frank Johnson in 1930. The winter of 1929 was a particularly harsh one of deep snow and extreme cold. Elizabeth [a granddaughter] remembers winter snows and drifted roads. George Henry would harness the team to the sleigh and drive to George William’s house. Elizabeth's mother would give her money and a list of things they needed. George Henry would tuck her in the sleigh on a bed of straw with rocks heated to keep their feet warm. A blanket was pulled over the top and off they would go to town. George Henry was concerned about getting his genealogy in order and purchased a Temple Record book which was the standard method in the church in that day; he then took it to Dora [Joe’s wife] to have her assist in filling it out. A story attributed to George Henry may have been the prompting factor: It seems that George Henry had been concerned about finding his ancestors. Not knowing what else to do he made it a matter of prayer. Late one night he came in from changing the water and placed the shovel in its usual corner. He was extremely tired; and as he entered the room (probably the kitchen) he noticed that the room began to grow lighter until he beheld a man standing in the room. The man spoke to him telling him that in answer to his prayer, he had come to give him some information. He told him to write it down. George Henry got paper and pencil and wrote as he was dictated to. Then the man left and George Henry stood pondering the event before going to bed. In the morning he found the paper contained information he needed concerning some of his ancestors. As his children left to make homes of their own, he was left on his own. His farm equipment, which he had generously loaned out to neighbors in need, came back uncared for and worn out. It became obsolete and he could not afford to replace it. Arthritis had crippled his feet until it was extremely painful for him to walk. George Henry’s youngest children (Lucy, Ella and LeRoy) would place him on the small hand wagon and pull him about the farm to receive instructions from him. Those three were also left to manage the horses and do much of the farm work. In order to harness a horse (a daily necessity) Lucy and Ella would get on separate sides of the harness, each grasping a hame [one of the two curved wooden or metal pieces of a harness that fits around the neck of a draft animal]. LeRoy would take the crupper strap that goes under the horses’ tail and together the three would walk the harness from behind the horse up and over in order to harness the horse. He rented the major part of the farm to George William, retaining the home and some pasture maybe up to 20 acres. He kept some cows 35 or so and an old team of horses that he didn't have the heart to get rid of. It about 110 19 broke his heart when one time one of George William's younger horses was put in with his old ones. The spirited newcomer had his day but the next day one of "the older horses" was dead. The financial problems that George Henry thought he had solved in 1924 reappeared in 1933 with the coming of the depression era. To keep the farm out of creditors’ hands, it was signed over to Alma on 17 June 1933. Alma then signed it back 19 June the same year and George Henry held the papers until the storm seemed to be over, having them recorded in August 1934. This seemed to work for a time, but the problems persisted. Finally, in order for George Henry and Rose to keep their home, an arrangement was made with George William to buy the farm. An effort had been made through the family to come to their assistance. Joe had bought a farm in Ucon and was in a precarious position with it and could not help. Alma was in Idaho Falls with a job at Smith Chevrolet. John was newly married and just starting out and couldn't help and of course LeRoy was not yet 16. It was a burden to George William who had a mortgage on his own farm to worry about. But George William took the farm and the outstanding mortgage with the understanding that in exchange he would provide a home for his parents for the remainder of their lives. This transaction was completed 6 April 1935. Perhaps this was a contributing factor to the animosity that developed between the older members of the family. George Henry knew of those feelings but was unable to do anything about them. He suffered a great deal over them and they seemed to multiply after his demise. The family had been friendly to one another but had never been really what would be considered close. Perhaps George Henry's inability to draw his family close was a result of his own early life and having had his own father's family torn asunder, resulting in relationships that never had time to grow and mature. George Henry was a quiet man and in his later years tended to become even more so. Rose did most of the talking. Velma (a granddaughter) remembers that George Henry would come in from doing chores and take his own chair in the kitchen near the coat rack and near the door. He would rest his hands on his thighs as he sat to rest or visit. He would occasionally rub his middle finger with his thumb as though its roughness bothered him. Velma continues: "As George Henry got older he had a harder time working. When I knew him he no longer farmed much. His barn was full of hay which we loved to jump on. His was the only place we went where there was a real loft with real hay in it. There were various ladders to get up and down from the loft. I remember George Henry and LeRoy and I suppose Dad (Joe) milking the cows under the loft. It seemed ‘Oh, so cozy there’. We always had chores to do when we got home so we weren't there for many milkings. As George Henry got older he began to have fainting spells. When I asked what was wrong I would be told that he had very low blood pressure." George Henry's farm was a mystical adventure to us when we were small. Rose had a peach tree, the only one we had ever heard of in the area. There were ancient autos in the shed to explore. The wood that was to be cut was poles standing in a tepee shape, signs to us that real Indians had been there. There was a real well (we didn't have one) and only big people got to go near it. There were mysterious paths as well as kittens and dogs that did real tricks. There were settee hens to avoid and mean old roosters that might chase you. To us younger ones we got to go out to the barn and look up the ladders, we were too little and not allowed to climb. The older ones would be playing hide-and-seek or kick the can. Inside we were in awe at a real pantry, tucked back under the stairs, where a bucket of cold water always seemed to welcome the thirsty. Hidden treasures loomed on high shelves overhead where an occasional pie or cake would be visible. Pungent odors came from somewhere and bottles of never dusty fruit lined lower shelves. Pans of milk or cream were also in evidence, as were crocks for pickles, the separator, and cooking utensils. 111 20 In the kitchen oil cloth paintings hung at the commode [a movable washstand with a cupboardunderneath]. There was the typical kitchen range and the wood box. On stormy days the heat of the kitchen fire was comfortable. Talk of adults seemed to gravitate around to whether or not President Wilson should or should not have done something or other and that it was all his fault; depression talk I suppose. That's one time when George Henry would get involved. The parlor was a quiet room; we could only whisper there. The piano sat quietly while antique lamps stood as soldiering sentinels in silent vigil resolutely standing on bastions of crisply starched lace doilies to see that order reigned. Freshly dusted books behind polished glass doors were backdrops for miniature sea shell aquatic bird groupings and photos or tin-types. Long silken fringes hung from multicolored scarfs draping the old Edison phonograph, bedecked with additional family portraits. To us small ones there were no other rooms, only doors that never opened mysteries to be explored when we were big. George Henry's health was failing and his arthritis curled and crippled his feet until he could no longer wear normal shoes. Instead he would cut the toes of his shoes around the soles so he would have room for his feet, and then tied them together so they would stay on his feet. He had difficulty in getting around. To us with our young and unknowing eyes, he had no real problems; after all, crippled people had canes and crutches. Rose had crutches she used occasionally and she wasn't crippled, and she got around well from what we saw and wasn't that just the way old people were supposed to act? But regardless of how George Henry was seen by our eyes, he was continuing to age. We only briefly paused from our play during our infrequent visits, to wonder why there were no longer any cows, and now only a handful of chickens scratched out an occasional grub in the yard. We noted that the gardens were no longer large and well cared for as we romped through the tall grass. Change and growth were all around except at George Henry's where time seemed to stand still, waiting, holding its breath, expectant at the change soon to come. Carl writes: "As we left that last time, I looked back and saw George Henry standing in the road, waving a feeble good-by. Shortly after we learned that that was his last good-by as he passed from this life to the next on 21 November 1943." The winter of his life was now over, to await a glorious spring. 112