1 Born: 21 Jan 1874 at East Bountiful, Davis County, Utah Marr: George Henry Rasmussen Lived in Morgan County and Rich County, Utah.Died: 29 Sep 1962. Parents: William and Mary Hibbert Smith Rose Smith Morgan D.U.P. Picture No. 2017-7; Metadata No. 010D -Accompanying History obtained from FamilySearch.org.Feb, 2017.Rose Smith was the last child of nine born to William Smith and his wife Mary Hibbert Smith, two very spiritual and industrious people who had England as their background before immigrating to this Land of Liberty to join with the rest of the members of their church in Zion. Rose was born, 21 January 1874, at East Bountiful (sometimes known as East Farmington), Davis County, Utah. She had for her constant companion and playmate, her brother Joseph who was three years older than she. Together they galloped over the hills to look for cows and to pluck the first flowers. Together they trudged valiantly oft to school and together they knelt in the old wagon which bumped and tilted as it passed over rocks and sagebrush on their way to church. Her older sisters taught her to crochet and sew and her father and mother taught her the Gospel and how to pray. Once as a little girl she cut and otherwise spoiled the fringe on the lace decorating the runner or scarf that covered the old sewing machine. Alice, her next older sister was none too pleased in having her pretty lace spoiled, but ended up helping teach her to crochet. Her father, who had been a silk weaver in England, now turned his hand to a number of pioneer occupations. He had a brick kiln and Rose learned to turn the brick to dry evenly. The light red brick was used to build their home. Presumably his brick was also available for others in the community. He also helped institute the silk industry in Utah. A mill was built and Rose's job was to keep the cocoons doused in water. She relates: "You see, when father and mother came across the plains there was nothing for him to do to make a living. President Brigham Young asked him what he did in England and father told him that he was a silk weaver from the mills of Manchester and Macclessfield. He was born in Macclessfield, 12 April 1824. Mother also worked in the mills in Manchester. She was born in Failsworth, Lancashire, England on 20 July 1831. "President Young was greatly interested in father's story. He was especially interested when father told him of his experience in the manufacture of silk and he was called into his [President Young's] office to repeat the story to others whom he had arranged to be present. President Young finally did establish the silk industry and father had a great deal in helping to get the work started. A mill was built in Bountiful and both father and mother worked at the looms. "When I was a little girl they used to take me to help. Father planted mulberry trees and we would gather cocoons and take them to the mill. My job at the mill was to keep the cocoons under water. They were about as large as a walnut, maybe not quite, but that is the nearest comparison I can think of at the moment (about ½ inch in diameter and about 1 to 1¼ inch in length). There was a great knack in knowing when the worm was ready to emerge from the cocoon. You see if the worm was allowed to come out, he would eat through the fine threads that had been spun around him when he was planted in the cocoon as a small egg and the result would be a bunch of small threads about the length of your 112 2 finger. But with a small implement father could pick up the end of the silk fiber and if the worm had not pierced it. He would wind the silk into a skein the full length of the fiber of silk. Then it was taken to the spinning wheels and looms and woven into thread or silk cloth. "My job was to keep the cocoons under water until the worm inside was dead, so it could not damage the silk. Also the water strengthened the thread of silk and made it more elastic. The work was easy enough to do, but after so many hours, it became tiresome. So Brother Joe would come and spell me off sometimes. "If there was a spot or fault in the weaving, we could not get any money for it and we had to take it home. Also when it was measured on the long tables and there was too much yardage on the bolt, the extra length was cut off and we had to take it home. As the extra lengths, which were called "loom ends", were not paid for, they belonged to the weaver. We made handkerchiefs, bonnets, shirts or dresses according to the length of the piece. And many a child or woman was made happy with a white silk dress for their Sunday attire. "Then trains were built which spanned the East and West, and with them came the silks from China and Japan. They were cheaper than we could make them and the silk industry died. But it served its purpose of giving employment to those in need and many hearts were made happy with a nice silk shirt or dress for best. "My mother-in-law [Rose Smith] would sometimes call me up, knowing my interest in their history and stories, and tell me bits of family history. This time I was afraid I would forget the details so I sat down and wrote it as nearly as I could word-for-word as she told it. They made many silk handkerchiefs for the men. My husband [Joseph Rasmussen) has one of those handkerchiefs, given him by his grandmother (Mary Hibbert Smith). When she gave it to him, she said she had saved it for many years and she had decided that he was the grandson to whom it would be given. Later we were told that she had a handkerchief which had been blessed by President Young when her husband (William Smith) was very ill. William had sent it to President Young and asked that he bless it as he felt that he would then be cured. President Young poured perfume on the handkerchief, blessed it, and sent it back saying that he had not seen greater faith. "Grandma Smith did not say it was the same handkerchief, but some of the family thought it may have been." (Quote from Dora Rasmussen wife of Joseph Lloyd Rasmussen.) Rose was baptized by Bishop Samuel Carter on 29 October 1832. How much school Rose attended is unknown. Generally school was only available up to the 8th reader and few were able to attend that long. We do know that George Henry Rasmussen, who Rose eventually married, first became interested in her when she was 15 years old. They saw each other on occasion, more often as time went on until their marriage when she was 19 years old. This took place in her father's home on 2 January 1893 with Bishop Samuel Carter officiating. She was proud of her soft blue wedding dress that she had made with remnants of silk from the mill. After a brief stay in Porterville, George Henry and Rose moved to Freedom, Wyoming in June 1894. George Henry was supposed to have had a job with Bishop Arthur B. Clark, George's brother-in-law, in addition to having his own farm. Water for the farm never materialized, nor did the job with Bishop. Clark. George Henry had to work for some of the few farmers in the area. Rose's first son, George William, was born 23 Aug 1894. The following spring they moved across the Salt River to a new farm. They soon found that the farm was adjacent to the watering hole that the Indians used for their horses, and they had frequent calls from them. This was generally frightening to Rose for they would stop in when least expected, and being unable to understand them, they could not always tell what was wanted. As Rose became more used to the Indians visits she became more at ease and would offer them a little food or even a meal. 113 3 Once when they suddenly came to her door, she was in the midst of baking bread. As she pulled the hot loaves from the oven. All eyes fastened on it. She had nothing more to offer so she cut thick slices, and since she had no butter, she took the molasses jar and poured a thin stream onto the bread in the form of small swirls, then covered it with another slice of bread. The Indians response was wide eyed amazement and delight, especially on tasting the tantalizing results. They wanted to see her pour those swirls again and again. They would return often in hopes of finding fresh bread and molasses swirls. On one occasion some of the more frequent Indian visitors asked George Henry at what time or where was the sun in the sky when they ate supper. George Henry indicated the approximate location of the sun and the Indians disappeared. That evening when the time arrived, so did the Indians. Rose half expecting what they had in mind had a nice meal ready and waiting; they particularly liked her baking powder biscuits. A few days later the Indians returned with a deer they had killed and dressed. They also had a pair of moccasins for baby George William. Meals and deer skin products were readily exchanged from then on. In Aug 1895 there was a group of Indians who usually hunted and fished at the site of the present day Hoback Junction who were placed under arrest and were being taken to Jackson for prosecution. The Indians found that it was partly a pretext to further injure the Indians, so they made a break for freedom. Word was sent out that the Indians were on the rampage, intent on scalping and killing all those in Lower Star Valley. This of course was not true; the Indians desire was to leave the area. There were some people who were genuinely afraid it was true, most thought it wise to take no chances. Men were placed throughout the valley to scout out the movements of the Indians and spread the alarm when they arrived in the vicinity. Most of the remaining settlers chose to gather at Glencoe (now Thayne) and there form up a protective wagon circle by the church and behind Franklin Bracken's store. There were a few brave souls who chose to remain in their homes. Soldiers were called in from Ft. Douglas at Salt Lake. Among the troops was a large contingency of black people who were more trouble than the Indians. Rose tells of Mrs. Lee, wife of Tom Lee, the school teacher at Glencoe. Apparently the Lee's didn't live too far from Glencoe so Mrs. Lee remained in her home. Mrs. Lee was expecting her baby shortly and her husband Tom was gone. She saw one of the black soldiers hiding in the brush outside her window and she became frightened. She placed her children in the back of the wagon and fled to Glencoe, arriving shortly before her baby, for her labor was well advanced. Mr. and Mrs. Bracken took her into the store where they assisted her in her childbirth. Mrs. Lee delivered a fine baby boy that she gratefully named Franklin Bracken Lee in honor of her gracious hosts. The baby was likely the forebearer of J.Bracken Lee, who was one of the Governors of Utah. George Henry had his eye on taking Rose and baby George William to Salt Lake to be sealed in the temple. He made arrangements to work in Iona on Kid Owen's home when spring 1986 arrived. That would provide the finances needed. Since holding the Melchizedek Priesthood was a prerequisite to going to the temple, he prepared himself and was ordained a Priest on 15 January 1896 and as an Elder on 23 Apr 1896. This appears to be what they were waiting for. Two days later, 25 Apr 1896, with spring beginning to break, Rose and George Henry began the move to Iona. They had to make time before the spring melt and runoff would swell the streams making them impassable and before the trail was soggy or muddy. It would take six days of travel by horse and wagon. Their wagon was loaded with most of their possessions and to the back they tied one or two cows, to keep them from straying. They forded the Salt River and then the Snake River a couple of times or more. They had to break through snow drifts much of the way, leaving the horses to sense the trail to follow. As they gradually descended to lower elevations, they encountered mud where the snow had melted. 114 4 One evening darkness overtook them while descending a hill on the trail but they continued on unti1 they found a relatively flat area to camp for the night. This was possibly at what is now called the Layne Clark Hill. Evening chores were tended to and a small fire lit for supper. In the frail light Grandma went to "gather buffalo chips" to sustain the fire and provide for morning breakfast. After proceeding a short distance she stopped abruptly with the distinct impression to go no farther, and turning, returned to the small circle of fire light. At the first grey light of dawn she awoke and retraced her steps of the night before, and discovered she had been less than 2 feet from falling over a precipice, a sheer drop of over a hundred feet to the river canyon below. At Iona they secured a home and George Henry went to work, cutting timber in the canyon, floating it down the river and finally hauling it to Iona. By about the first of June he had enough money for the trip to Salt Lake. Possibly the timber he had hauled had to be run through the saw mill before work could continue. At any rate he took his small family and headed for Salt Lake City, a drive of 10 days to 2 weeks. On 10 June 1896, they entered the temple and were sealed. The Salt Lake temple had just begun its third year of operation, having been dedicated in April 1893. After receiving their blessings in the temple they went to Morgan to see her folks, staying several days for high waters had washed out a bridge and sections of roadway. Back at Iona, George Henry commenced work again. Rose bore her second son, Henry Benjamin, on George Henry’s birthday, 8 September 1896, while George Henry was gone. He had returned to Star Valley to bring back the remainder of their furniture, a cow, and a mare with her foal. Benjamin died just after his first birthday, 24 Aug 1897, and was buried in Iona. It should be stated that in early days, Iona and Ammon were one and the same until Ammon was formed into a ward and split off in about 1888. Still, though, sometimes the records say one and then the other. The children who died were buried in the current day Iona cemetery. It appears to have been called the Ammon cemetery for some years. George Henry or Hen as the men began to call him became known to Kid Owen as having ability to work with water. (Kid Owen lived in what was properly called Ammon.) Since Mr. Owen was on the Board of Directors for a canal company, he offered George Henry a job on the headgates. This resulted in their moving to Birch Creek or Poplar as it was later called, in October 1897. Hen homesteaded a 120 acre farm that was a short distance north of the Poplar store. The latent lush fertile soil had spots that were very rocky and the whole was covered, naturally, with sagebrush. This had to be removed one bush at a time, one acre at a time by digging or "grubbing" it out with a grubbing hoe. Occasionally it was possible to plow some of the smaller brush out. In this process even some of the larger sagebrush were loosened with the plow after which someone would come along behind to finish pulling it out. This became one of Rose's tasks. This worked on most of the sagebrush but, of course, there were those that were more stubborn and took more effort. However, the more ground cleared, the more hay or grain could be raised. Then too, there was a requirement of the Homestead Act that a minimum of so many acres had to be put under cultivation each year. In the summer of 1899 work was begun on what was called the Riley ditch. John Riley along with Thomas Morgan, Thomas and Joseph Riley, George Henry Rasmussen, Peter McFarland, Samuel Hammer, Oscar Wheeler, Edward Morgan and Daniel Radford, Jr. began the project. For her part, Rose took in boarders, providing meals and doing the wash for a few of the men thus employed. This seems to have continued for a number of years with the number of men varying from one or two to perhaps half a dozen or more. 115 5 "Meal times was the time for many a good joke to be played or recounted, until the table was roaring with laughter. In one such a dining room was a picture. It was a great mystery to the men, who had heard of pictures with their faces to the wall, etc. But this one was draped, hiding the picture underneath the folds. Anyone bold enough to cautiously lift the curtain would drop it quickly, looking scared and very embarrassed. So the men avoided it, never speaking of the picture beneath the drape. Among themselves, away from the family, they talked about it asking why the covers were there, but no one ever seeing what lay under the cover would ever repeat or talk about it and it was sensed that the family to whom it belonged would think ill of a person so bold as to mention it in their hearing. After months of curiosity a chance would come when one of the men would be alone in the room. Tiptoeing to the window to see if he had a chance to peek before others arrived, he quietly lifted the drapes to find himself looking in the face of two donkeys and underneath were the words, "When shall we three meet again?" Quickly dropping the folds he dropped in to his seat at the table and was busily reading from an old paper when the men came in to eat. The old timers looked up at the slightly moving drapes, looked soberly at each other and pitched into their dinner. They knew how to work on the next in line until he too would be initiated to the covered face on the wall. "Even Mrs. Rasmussen was not immune from the men's jokes. Hyrum Frew, who was the Big Boss at the time, was just leaving the house after dinner, when the Watkin's man [a peddler of cosmetics, spices, liniments, salves, etc.] came up the path. Seeing Mr. Frew and mistaking him for the man of the house, asked if the lady of the house was in and told Mr. Frew his business. "Mr. Frew said, "Fine, go right inside and tell her I said it was all right to buy everything she wants. It's all right by me. Tell her to go ahead." "The pleased man entered, thinking he would receive a large order. When Mrs. Rasmussen started to carefully select the supplies that her family purse would allow, the peddler explained that "her husband" had said for her to go ahead and buy all she wanted. So thinking her husband had had some money from an unknown source she ordered more and more, never thinking that she was a victim of a practical joke." One time Rose began to prepare for dinner and went out for wood for the fire. On seeing the depleted woodpile, she was furious; here she was expecting a baby soon and no wood. On top of that her legs were sore and acting up as they did on occasion. (It wasn't known until years later that that was a sign of her diabetes.) Chopping wood was simply out of the question! So what was her alternative? After pondering for a time, she decided on a course of action. She went ahead and prepared the meal as usual with one exception. When it came time to place the food on the stove, she placed it on the table. When all was in order she carefully covered it with cloths as usual to await the men. What a surprise when they pulled back the cloths! Nothing cooked! Firmly but politely Rose told them they had a choice, eat it that way or, if they would rather, they could chop wood and she would be glad to cook the meal for them. The men quickly disappeared in the direction of the wood pile and soon brought in the needed wood. This was a burning embarrassment to Hen; and something he never forgot. From then on he made sure she always had wood chopped and ready. Joseph Lloyd was born 19 September 1899 and his sister Mary was born on 3 December 1901. Henrietta Freeze was the midwife. When the Birch Creek Sunday School was reorganized on 27 April 1902, George Henry Rasmussen was selected as Sunday School Superintendent and Rose as assistant secretary. It was about this time that an incident, known in the family as the "Wagon Raiders" story and related by John in more detail in George Henry's life story, occurred. On returning late one evening from Idaho Falls with a wagon load of supplies, George Henry and Rose both became uneasy, so in the gathering dust they pulled behind the shelter of some clumps of willows to hide and rest. Shortly, some horsemen pulled up and Rose and George Henry overheard their 116 6 wonderment at not being able to find the wagon that had been in front of them that they were intent on despoiling. The men soon moved on, and both Rose and George Henry felt the hand of God had intervened in their behalf. Alice Elisabeth Rasmussen was born in Poplar on 8 January 1904. Rose and George Henry were to feel the intervening hand of God again when their daughter Alice Elizabeth (Lizzy) was brought back to life; story entitled “An Idaho Pioneer Baby Miraculously Healed”. A second story, “A Night of Terror”, tells about the night they crossed the raging waters of the Snake River on a cable ferry boat after a severe storm. Both stories are attached to George Henry’s and Rose Rasmussen’s Memories in Familysearch.org. Lizzy’s life was extended almost eight months and then too weak to endure she passed away on 27 September 1904. It is interesting to note that compliance with their homestead requirements was completed and the final filing and fee were recorded the day before the baby's death. Work continued on the river, and a new son's arrival (Alma Dee born 11 May 1905) was encouraging; but a depression in 1907 with its falling prices, on top of having ground that was not overly productive, along with concern over the educational needs of a growing family made it evident that changes needed to be made. A farm was found in lower Poverty Flats, (or Coltman) that held promise for them. It was close by the school and the church. It had been cleared and was in production and there were no large rocks as in Poplar. The home even included a piano, as the story goes, which was an added incentive. Having a piano, even though no one in the family knew how to play, appears to have been one of Rose's secret desires. So early in the morning of December 24, 1907 with their belongings loaded into a sleigh, they started for Coltman, arriving about nightfall. Christmas was not celebrated to the extent that it is today, but it was still celebrated in some degree. It was a bleak one that Christmas morning with only a dish of hard tack candy to denote the special day. The family was happy however and noted that their move was their Christmas gift to Coltman. Working in the church had become a way of life, something special. It seemed to be part of their basic makeup, a need to serve and a method for them to express their thankfulness for the blessings they enjoyed. On 13 December 1908 George Henry was called as second councilor to Bishop Eberhard Bauer. About the same time Rose was called to the Relief Society Presidency. What busy days followed, continuing for six years or more. In those days the Relief Society was called on in many different ways. Since the mortician trade was virtually unknown and unaffordable, where it was available, if a member of the ward were to die, the Relief Society Presidency was called to wash and dress the deceased, and prepare the body for burial. Then they sat up nights with the body until time for burial. A new baby was another challenge. Sometimes they served as midwife when one was not present. The new mother needed attention for a few hours to several days. When there was sickness they were called. The poor and the destitute were their wards. Rose usually had a quilt set up in her parlor, and various women of the ward would come in to quilt. Hannah Jane states that Sister Butikofer, a member of the presidency, would bring her daughter Irene to play under the quilt while the women worked. It appears hers was one of the larger parlors and more centrally located; therefore it was selected for the quilting projects. Eggs that were laid on Sundays were collected for the needy or for sources of income for the Relief Society as a body, whether locally or in Salt Lake. Somewhere sandwiched in between, John Fielding was born on 8 April 1909, and Hannah Jane was born on 29 February 1912. And then Joe had what they called a spider cancer on his face. This spider cancer may have been what today we would call a hemangioma, or a reddish growth of tissue highly colored and thoroughly traced with fine blood vessels. When the Ward Teachers came, and after their presentation of the lesson material, Rose asked them to administer to young Joe for the cancer's growth had been rapid and she was worried. They took the consecrated oil and administered 117 7 to him. As they finished one of the Elders instructed her to make a poultice of hot bread and milk and to place it on his face where it was to remain until it became cold. Being a woman of faith, Rose followed the instructions explicitly. Later as she removed the poultice, on the dressing she found the fleshy core of the growth. The wound was clean and healed completely, leaving a faint mark discerned only by the searching eye. One of the longest standing activities that Rose engaged in is what some of the family termed as "Slaughter Day". What event triggered its genesis has long since faded in memory to those who remember, as has the date of its beginning. Jennie states that as far as she knew, it was being practiced at the time of her earliest memories. It might have been the purchase of the farm in Coltman, or the inclusion of the piano in the package deal with the farm. Then again it might have been connected with her service in the Relief Society or when they bought their car. At any rate, whatever the reason, Rose believed in it sincerely and it was unattainable without an outstanding effort. What was entailed was an agreement between grandpa and grandma that Rose would raise chickens, bees, fruit and vegetables for sale. She would also sell milk or cream, and churn butter to sell. All this that she might take care of the household finances and needs. It appears that in later years she would no longer assist in the fields, in order to hold up to her part of the bargain. The slaughter day was Saturdays when chickens that she had raised would be killed and dressed to fill orders she had taken during the week. Certain doctors and merchants from Idaho Falls would report to her: "this week we have guests, we will need 2 (or maybe 3) chickens instead of the usual one" or "part of the family will be gone, make that one pound of butter and only one chicken", and so it would go. Her regular customers in later years were two doctors with the surname of West, Dr. Kentonwine, Dr. Brookfield, Dr. Soderquist, A. W. Brunt, Joe Brunt and the photographer by the old Gaiety Theater. Slaughter day was not exactly a pleasant day. It took great planning. Hens had to be set early in the year, and each old brooding hen could be counted on to raise two batches of chicks each year. It was considered real lucky when some presented a third batch of chicks. In later years George William Rasmussen's family had an incubator for hatching eggs to which Rose had access, but in those early years each hen was set separately. Usually a "setty" hen was selected and moved to a small A-frame hutch. The hutches usually were 18 to 24 inches wide and 18 to 24 inches long if it contained one nesting area; the hutch was 36 to 48 inches long if it had two nesting areas. It stood about 18 to 24 inches high. They were constructed of lath strips to provide light and air and still give some semblance of protection from the elements. In inclement weather an old coat or piece of canvas or "gunny" sack [burlap bag] was laid over the structure to give added protection. There was a small door placed high on one side for a feeding access. Incubation time for the eggs was 21 days. Eggs laid after the original set would take additional time to hatch. The chicks and mother hen would remain in the hutch for a few days after the chicks hatched to help provide physical protection from skunks or other predators. Later the mother hen and her chicks were usually released to wander the farmyard in search of grain, weeds, or bugs. The chicks had to be carefully raised and fed. Grain had to be ground in the old coffee grinder for the young chicks, and in cold weather it had to be warmed first before feeding. An eye had to be kept out for weasels, skunks and chicken hawks. Joe tells us: "My mother could ride a horse as good as anybody could ride, and usually she would ride sideways or sidesaddle. She could ride either with a saddle or without. She did lots of work in the field with the team [of horses] to hurry with the spring work, at haying time, and in the fall harvest. We always stacked our grain in stacks and she would help what she could there. "She was as handy with a shotgun and rifle as a man was. One time while we were threshing, a chicken hawk flew over to get the little chickens. She got out a shotgun and shot the hawk and it fell into the yard where the men were threshing. The men were all amazed that she could shoot a chicken hawk on the wing [while it was flying]. She could pick off a rabbit as good as anyone could." (Just Folks series, 1978. p. 11.) 118 8 Hannah Jane, or Jennie as we called her, got tired of the Saturday routine and tended to be a bit rebellious at times, as any child would. One time she questioned: "Why do we always have to kill and clean chickens?" Grandma responded "You don't have to. But if you don't, you don't eat. That's how we get our groceries. I promised your dad that if he would take care of the farm, I would take care of the house." And promises were to be kept! Little was ever mentioned about the bees they kept in hives in the garden. They would fly in the kitchen and about the house and never seemed to bother anyone. But just you wait until a stranger appeared, those bees knew it instantly. They wanted no interference and would do what they could to drive the intruder away. Another source of income for Rose in the late 1910's and early '20's was painting of oilcloth. In each home, before the coming of indoor plumbing and indoor running water, there was what was called a "commode" or washstand. In some homes the "thunder mug" was stored inside this. On top of the stand was usually set a bucket of fresh well or ditch water. To the side was placed a basin for washing your hands and face. Soap, washcloths, and towels usually also graced this piece of kitchen furniture. A piece of oilcloth was usually hung at its back to catch the splashes. Since the most affordable oilcloth came in pure white, a touch of color was desired. Rose was adept with a brush and oil paints and her simple water scenes of ducks paddling around cattails, or of cranes or herons were an elegant and inexpensive touch. She preferred to paint rather than tat or crochet as you could accomplish more, faster; and saving time was important in her busy life. By early 1915 George Henry was farming his own 90 acres and rented another 80 besides. The family, now six was increased to seven with the birth of Lucy on 28 March 1915, and then to eight with the arrival of Maggie Ella on 31October 1916. It was back to seven when in December of that same year George William was married. Still the house was bulging and so rooms were finished upstairs: one for the girls and the other for the older boys. There was a small room under the stairs which was called the pantry. A bucket of water was kept in there where it would remain cool. A cream separator was also kept there as were bottles of fruit and vegetables and an occasional mincemeat or apple pie. A bed was placed immediately under the stairs where John slept. LeRoy was born on 20 June 1919, and when he was old enough he joined John under the stairs. This room under the stairs was one that was used for overflow when guests would come. Occasionally some of the girls were shuffled there to make a place for guests in their room. But more often it was some of the boys. On occasion some guests were also placed in the room under the stairs for the night or for a week. Among the guests that would come was Marion Clark, a nephew who lived in Blackfoot and traveled through the area selling blankets. There was a Gene Hibbert that lived in Roberts who was a relative through Rose's mother, Mary Hibbert Smith. He was a rough character that they never felt safe around. They always made sure some of the men were around when he appeared. Then there was perhaps the most famous as far as the family was concerned, Uncle Will (William) Smith. Rose's brother. He lived in Morgan, Utah where he raised chickens. He loved to come and visit, see the country and fish. At one time he had worked in the mines and in the lumber mills. At the close of World War I (1919) there was a terrible flu epidemic which swept the country. Nearly every family was affected. Estimates show that one in three families lost a family member to the flu; George William fell ill with the flu and was hospitalized for some time. As the epidemic waned, there followed an inflationary spiral, with its inflated prices. Flour sold for $50 a barrel (or approximately 60 pounds), sugar was nearly as bad. It took very careful managing to maintain a family budget. 119 9 The year 1921 proved to be another hectic year. Construction of a new ward building began and the whole family pitched in to help. About the same time Rose's mother, Mary Hibbert Smith, came to stay. Rose's father, William Smith, had died in 1915 and Mary, now alone and apparently ill needed some assistance. Mother Smith had visited off and on, even for extended periods after her husband’s death. It appears Mother Smith remained several months in Coltman before dying on 24 July. One thing that was firmly established in the family was the payment of tithing. Although little was said about it, it has been suggested that Rose would take her tithing to Ucon where they still had a Bishop's Storehouse for receiving "tithing in kind", or for paying tithing by giving goods or produce instead of cash. In later years Rose would repeat the [Wagon Box] prophecy of [President Wilford Woodruff]. We understood he was an early day Apostle wherein it was promised that this land (of South Eastern Idaho) would flourish if the Saints would pay their tithing. If they did not, they would experience winds such as have never been known in the land. Another prophesy she would recall was that in the last day when scourges would sweep this land, that it would be by the hand of the Lamanites and that those who were found wearing their temple garments would be safe. In my own childhood mind’s eye, on hearing her repeat this, I would picture men and women being stripped before being beaten or killed, and when the Priesthood markings were found on their garments, they would be released, rather than be harmed. I don't know that that was the intent of the prophecy. But Rose was a deeply religious person, a woman of great faith, taken to fasting and prayer when no one was aware. Lucy relates a time of needing something from her mother and they began to look for her. It was passed chore time, so she wasn't tending to them. She was not in the house, and they checked the sheds and the barn. Calling brought no response. Yet she couldn't possibly be far. At last, during a thorough check of the garden, her dog betrayed her. There she was on her knees with her hoe, in among the tall corn. "She was asked what she was doing hiding away like that. There were no weeds to pull, no need to irrigate, close enough to hear every call, and no answer. She blushed and said, "The dog gave me away or you wouldn't have found me. I often come out doors in places such as this, where I can be alone, uninterrupted, to petition and talk to God. I need His help. I have been praying to Him in behalf of LeRoy's health. ” Mary had taken nurses training, first at Rexburg, and then at the Spencer Hospital (the fore runner to either the original Sacred Heart hospital or to the Idaho Falls LDS hospital) and had continued to work there. She lived in Idaho Falls, returning home on rare weekends and days off. In November of 1929 she was called in on the case of a man who needed extended full time care. It is understood that she was more or less in quarantine with him. Immediately on being released from isolation and while at Alma's home on a visit, she cut herself on the lid of a cocoa can as she prepared chocolate milk for the family. She paid it no attention; it was "only a scratch". However infection set in and since it was improperly understood, and no antibiotics were yet in existence, blood poison developed. Before it was discovered, it was already too late. In only a few days it spread, causing intense suffering and pain, followed by death on 23 November 1929. About 1925 they became deeply involved in financial problems which continued to mount with George Henry’s advancing years and failing health. With the coming of the depression years, they were on the verge of losing their home and farm. One night Rose dreamed of how to save their home. Apparently by following the directions of this dream, they were able to stave off the problem for some time. Unfortunately the details have been lost. Evidently it was during this time of threatened loss of their home that George Henry and Rose offered it for sale. On a particular day interested buyers were to visit the home, and Rose proceeded to clean and prepare it for inspection. LeRoy had been assigned several tasks, as had each of the family. Among the tasks was the one to empty the "thunder mug" (the "porta-potty" of its day) that was in the upstairs bedroom. Being a young boy and disliking the task, he let it go, putting it off as long as possible. Finally Grandma insisted "for they will soon be here.” Roy went upstairs to obey, but was trapped, for the tentative buyers had arrived and he couldn't be seen carrying "that thing" out. Still, it had to be emptied before they came upstairs. Spying the window, he thought he could get out of a bad spot by simply dumping 120 10 the contents of the mug out the window. But horror of horrors, if you have ever emptied something like that, you realize that there is sometimes a backlash. The whole contents came back and ran down the wall and over the parlor window that the prospective buyers happened to be looking out of. Humiliation! During this time the slaughter days proved their worth, adding greatly to their dwindling money supply. Other ways of supplementing their income also had to be resorted to. Elizabeth Rasmussen Jensen tells of Grandma taking baskets of apples and trading them for coal from the engineer of the Oregon Short Line railroad train that passed through their property. LeRoy and Ella would carry sacks of apples to the train tracks and hold them up so that they could be grasped from the moving train. The fireman of the train would shovel off a few shovels of coal and LeRoy and Ella would have to follow along the tracks to gather up the lumps of coal. The time did come, however, when nothing more could be done. In order to save what they could, the farm and home was sold to George William on 6 April 1935, with Rose and George Henry retaining the use of a few acres for pasture and having perpetual rights to a home for life. Many people of the early 1900's were superstitious. Rose had had her own favorites. When we would visit, she would often say, "I knew someone was coming, I saw it in the tea leaves in my cup this morning." She would read your lifeline from the palm of your hand; a long line meant a long life, while other intersecting lines could mean marriage, births and deaths. Other signs she was concerned about were falling upstairs, a sure sign of an impending marriage, and horror of horrors if a baby were to look in a mirror before reaching the age of one year, death was sure to follow. Of course there were the usual superstitions of broken mirrors causing seven years of bad luck, black cats crossing your path, and walking under a ladder. Gardening was similar, always done by following the signs of the moon and stars. There was a time to plant those plants which bore fruit above the ground and another for root crops. These were rigorously followed. The results—maybe good, or maybe bad. There was a time to weed, to irrigate and to harvest, both for the plants which bore above ground and those which bore below. There were also signs for setting hens, for dehorning and castrating cattle. One of Grandma's special skills was her ability to train dogs. I remember one by the name of Gyp. There were others, each had their specialties. Gyp loved to hunt mice. A hand signal or word command would bring good results. We had to be cautious about whistling. You never knew what would happen; for you might be giving some command. Usually a shrill whistle would send Gyp out to select the best looking rooster. Carefully she would take it in her mouth, never bruising it, and then she would bring it for you to kill. Gyp was also trained to fetch wood when she was hungry. A stick or two was worth a meal. One cold winter, probably about 1940 or 1941, both Grandpa and Grandma were down with the flu for about a week with neither one leaving the house. When they finally ventured out, they found a whole stack of wood on the back step. They had been so sick, they hadn't thought of feeding Gyp. Grandma was getting older, bending was difficult and her legs, often sore from diabetes, dictated necessary changes. Gyp was trained to feed the chickens. She would pull the bucket thru the grain bin to fill it. Then she would drag it out to the barnyard and tip it, drag and tip, drag and tip; letting a little grain spill out each time to feed the chickens. When it was time to close the chickens in for the night, Gyp would herd the chickens to their respective places, where grandma stood waiting to latch the doors. Staying chicks would be softly enclosed in her strong jaws and gently deposited in the hutches near their mothers. Grandma was gifted in writing. In earlier days she wrote a number of poems. These she usually sent to some friend or someone in the ward that was sick or having some problem in their life. If it wasn't a poem it was a short story or essay. These were much sought after, but few have survived. 121 11 Grandma was a meticulous housekeeper. The parlor was rarely entered by children, and then only for looking. You touched nothing. We were used to spending our time outside, but being able to handle some things. To only be able to sit for stories was difficult for us as kids. On the piano and the bookcase were delicate, stiffly starched, crocheted doilies or silk fringed velvet scarfs which were topped with framed photographs, coal oil lamps and simple figurines. There were also little birds made of shells that Jennie brought from Salt Lake when returning from the Primary Hospital with one of her children or that Lucy sent from Seattle. The kitchen floors were spotless and always looked freshly washed and waxed. Everything was neat and tidy, no sign of dust. The furniture, table and chairs were freshly scrubbed; the woodwork looked newly varnished. The cook stove was freshly blacked with stove black and the chrome shined brightly. The outside of the house appeared to never have had a coat of paint, however, for paint was something that they could never afford. In January 1943 Rose and George Henry enjoyed the thoughts of celebrating their 50th or Golden Wedding Anniversary. This was a special time for Rose. It was not to last, for George Henry's health was slipping. Just prior to Thanksgiving in 1943 he died. It was now war years and it was deemed necessary to move Rose into Idaho Fails. Here she could stay alternately with Jennie and her family or with LeRoy, on I Street. She was able to receive consistent medical care for her diabetes and for her legs. Here she remained until about the time LeRoy was married. Then arrangements were made for her to have her own home on Idaho Ave. Life in Idaho Falls was somehow different. She missed the farm and farm life, but she also had new friends who were close and who could understand her widowhood and medical problems. There were new comforts, automatic heat, electrical appliances and fledgling TV. The phone was a real boon in her loneliness. She could visit with her family for hours, literally. Her health had its ups and downs. There were times, weeks to months at a time, that she had to resort to crawling or using a padded mechanical creeper to get around for the sores on her legs were too painful to allow walking. At one time she was able to fly by airplane with Loreen, a granddaughter, to Seattle. This was an exciting new way to travel for her. She loved explaining to her fellow passengers all about the old times, one in particular of her father telling her as a child: "Rosy, my girl, you shall live to see the day when ships fly through the air like ships upon the sea." With her limited knowledge as a child, she pictured a sailboat somehow lifted up in the sky, a most improbable occurrence. Grandma stayed in Seattle for about a year (about 1960), and some understood it was her intention to remain there. Through a misunderstanding of her desires, many of the family cleared her home of all her belongings. When she returned, it was to an empty house, devoid of all her cherished keepsakes. She was crushed, and her health was failing. By late 1960 she was requiring constant daily medical care, which fell on LeRoy and Eddie. The point came where it was necessary to place her in a nursing facility where her needs could be attended. The room became available at a most inopportune time for her, on her birthday, 1961. And, it had to be taken then or not for some undetermined length of time, possibly up to a year. It was hardly a time to make one happy, but she made the most of it. She was able to keep her spirits up fairly well. On 29 September 1962, Rose put away her needle and thread for the last time. Her brush and oils, her paper and pen and finally her apron, were all long since tucked away. She slipped quietly away to join her family members long since gone. 122 12 MY FAVORITE ROSE Let me tell you of the roses That have meant so much to me; Of their fragrance and their beauty, Which will always sacred be. I recall with fond rememberance The dainty pink wild rose: The many times I've picked them Where the Randall Canal flows. They grew but one mile's distance From our lovely old home plot; And the stems were, oh, so thorny But I gathered quite a lot. Oh, what could be so lovely, On a nice warm summer's day Than the babbling cool water And pink roses by the way? Old fashioned yellow roses, I always shall adore; How I longed to have some planted Beside our own back door. They grew beside the school house fence A half a mile away; We sat beside them for their shade And ate our lunch each day. Their green leaves and their blossoms, Both sent fragrance on the breeze; And my heart would thrill at roses. With pollen laden bees. American Beauty, a red rose That we planted in our yard; We thrilled at its first blossom, And tried to be its guard. We watched this pretty red rose daily As it climbed the little lattice; And we realized its beauty Was given us - gratis. There were many lovely roses, Each with a fancy name: Let me tell you about “My Rose” And the way she got her name. God sent a little baby girl To Smith's home down below, For them to teach and love and cherish And help her rightly grow. On January twenty first This tiny baby came; The mother held it in her arms And thought hard for a name. She looked down at her baby With soft brown eyes aglow; And said: "My baby's face Is like a rose upon the snow." Then glancing at the father, "My dear, her name I've chose: She's such a precious little soul We shall name our baby, Rose." God took the pink from the wild rose To tint her lovely face; And put her with the roses Where she'll always have a place. He took the blushing red rose And made her dear sweet heart; No matter whether near or far, We’ll never be apart. And from the sunny yellow rose Put sunshine in her soul So she could scatter joy and love And help fulfill life's role. From all these lovely roses He took the dew so fair, And sprinkled it upon her head To make her silver hair. My mother is my favorite Rose, And this shall ever be; While we journey here upon the earth And through eternity. By Lucy R. Allen 123