In Their Own Words: Nathan Smith

The following biography of Nathan Smith Sr. was written by his granddaughter, Nellie Margaret Griffiths Quinney (daughter of William Griffiths and Margaret Smith).

If persistence had not been one of the chief characteristics of William P. Smith, this story may never have been written, for as tradition has it, the parents of Mary Grimshaw strenuously objected to him as a son-in-law, and pointed out to their daughter the fine characteristics of William's rival. However, his perseverance eventually overcame their opposition and he and Mary were married.

The first child born of this union was Nathan. He made his advent at Bury, Lancashire, England, March 1, 1835.

When he was but seven years old his father joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, through the influence of a very intimate friend who had joined the Church previously. The first time William attended "Mormon" meetings it is said "he went to scoff but remained to pray." He was a fine singer and was invited to come up in front and help with the singing. Before long he and his family were in the Church.

They set sail for America that same year (1842). The family consisting of Nathan 7, Maria 2, and baby Alice, three weeks old. They were seven weeks on the water, landing at New York City, where they resided one year, then continued their journey toward the body of the Saints who were at Nauvoo. They traveled by water--it being the least expensive, by way of the Gulf of Mexico and up the Mississippi River. When but a day or two's journey from their destination, the little child, Maria, died, and was buried on an island in the river. Nathan always grieved deeply over the loss of this little sister, as she had been his constant companion and playmate. However, they were compelled to go on with their boat to Nauvoo and leave the little one in her lonely burial place, knowing the first high water would unearth her and carry her along in its muddy depths.

The family remained in Nauvoo five years where two more children were born. The father, William, worked some time on the temple and Nathan assisted by carrying water.

Nathan saw the Prophet often. He was especially thrilled when he saw him dressed in his uniform (military) riding down the street on his beautiful black horse. He said the Prophet never missed an opportunity to speak kindly to the children.

The family stood by during the martyrdom of the Prophet and his brother, Hyrum, and endured the persecutions by the mobs and when the majority of the saints, plucked and peeled, were driven out of Nauvoo, it was impossible for them to go, as the mother and two children were ill with fever and lay insensible to all about them. Armed men came and ordered them to leave, but the father appealed to them for sympathy and they were allowed more time. The house was searched for guns and ammunition but none were found. The mob had been seen approaching and the father had hurriedly passed the guns and ammunition through a hole (in the chinking) between the logs in the back part of the house, to Nathan outside who hid them in the corn patch.

On the 16th day of October, 1846, they started for Utah. Their outfit consisted of one horse, one ox, and an old wagon with no cover. The weather was cold and wet, and through exposure, the mother suffered very poor health. They, with others, had left Nauvoo in an almost destitute condition. They had scant clothing and very little to eat, however, with stout hearts they moved westward. Ere long they had exhausted their scanty food supply and the winter winds were already beginning to blow. They were many miles from help in either direction, but they had faith that the Lord, who they had sacrificed so much to follow, would not forsake them. When they had reached the extreme point of their endurance, a cold west wind began to blow and to add to their misery, snow began to fall; but when despair was in their hearts, flocks of quail began drifting into their camp. They came with the snowfall, from they knew not where, as their hunters had searched far and near and had found nothing. "It was indeed Manna from Heaven". Nathan helped gather these birds from under wagons and other places where they fell seeking shelter.

They stopped at Ferryville near Council Bluffs, to rest and recuperate, and the father William was called to preside over that branch of the Church while they were there. They stayed there five years and Nathan and his father operated a ferry boat. Here they saved enough to equip their own outfit; they also acquired some sheep and cattle.

In 1852 (Nathan was then 15 years old), they resumed their journey, overtaking Captain Wheelock's company. Cholera broke out among the people and many died and were buried on the plains. Nathan contracted the disease and later said he was saved from death only by his mother's faith and her warm catnip tea. They later separated from the company and under the leadership of Captain McCray arrived in great Salt Lake City, October 6th, 1852, being only seven weeks on the Plains. In ten days more they had moved to Little Cottonwood. They endured the hard times incident to the grasshopper invasion and had been in Utah only five years when the mother, Mary Grimshaw Smith, died, leaving seven children, the youngest only a few months old. This baby also died a short time later. The eldest daughter, Alice, cared for the family in her mother's stead, until her marriage, a few years later, to George Done, Sr.

A pathetic and inspiring incident is connected with the death of this baby whose name was John. While he lay critically ill, a little brother Thomas, aged four years, stood gazing out of the window. All at once he exclaimed, "Come quick, here is mother." Members of the family ran to the window but could see nothing unusual. Tommy said, "Can't you see her, she's standing on the chopping block. She is coming for Johnny at seven o'clock in the morning." And at seven o'clock the following morning, the baby passed away.

This child, Thomas, grew to manhood; he and a companion went to Burnt Fork, Wyoming to get out logs. While there another man, Owen by name, joined them. Tom was of large powerful stature-being six feet three or four inches tall. He could fell more trees in an hour than most men. Owen was jealous and asked Tom to trade axes. This Tom declined to do. A little quarreling ensued and the next morning when Tom was reaching up in a tree, to cut some steaks from a venison, this man, Owen, shot him through the back. The bullet passed through one kidney and paralyzed his legs. He cried out to his companion, "Run for your life, I'm shot." His companion ran and also the assassin. Tom crawled four miles to the main road, dragging himself along by his elbows. Here he was picked up and put into a wagon and taken to the nearest settlement. He was still conscious when found and told the story but died before help could be reached. The murderer was hunted for a long time, but was never apprehended.

While celebrating the tenth anniversary of the coming of the pioneers to Utah, July 24th, 1857, at what is now called Brighten, two messengers, Porter Rockwell and A.O. Smoot, arrived from Independence without the mail. The postmaster refused to forward it. They reported that General Harney with two thousand infantry and a proportionate number of cavalry and artillery were marching on Utah. General Johnston took command of these troops a short time later. General Daniel H. Wells, recently of the Nauvoo Legion, left Great Salt Lake City immediately with 1,200 men for Echo Canyon where they engaged in throwing up breastworks and otherwise fortifying themselves against the enemy. Nathan was one of these men. They had a very strategic position. The Lord surely had foreseen this time and prepared for the defense of the Saints. The General commanded a number of bonfires to be built some distance apart. A few men would march around one fire, pass behind the rocks and then march around another. The enemy believing they were greatly outnumbered feared to attack. They were held in check by the maneuvers of the Mormons without the loss of a life until matters were settled peaceably.

The Indians were also making trouble and Nathan was sent with twenty men to Deer Creek to guard the mail. He often rode the pony express and could always be relied upon to discharge his duty with the utmost resourcefulness and integrity.

He moved to Cache Valley in the spring of 1860 and settled at Summit Creek -- so called because of its position on a high, gravelly summit on the east side of the valley about seven miles north of Logan. Through the middle of this summit dashes a clear, cold mountain stream on its turbulent way to Bear River. This settlement was later renamed Smithfield, in honor of John A. Smith, who was the first bishop called to preside over the saints there. Nathan lived there in the fort among the first families and he and George Done, his brother-in-law, cut and hauled the logs for the first meeting house. He took his turn watching with the minute men during the Indian trouble.

In 1861, he and Lacy Larimy were sent with others of Utah to Mission Valley to assist poor saints to Utah. They carried with them fresh provisions and also their oxen were used to the mountain atmosphere and water, which so often caused sickness to the plains cattle. Once when some days out from Utah, they met a company coming west. Of course they visited awhile before resuming their journey, exchanging news from Utah and the old country. In this company was John Sant and his family. His daughter Jane met Nathan and after he had gone on she told her sister she had met the man she was going to marry. Her mother overheard her and reminded her that she might never see him again and besides he may already be married. "I don't care if he has ten wives," said Jane, "If I ever marry it will be to that man." (I imagine he might well have made a dazzling impression on any girl with his tall, square physique and shining dark eyes. He had a genial disposition and capability radiating from him; in fact, I think he must have been a young man with personality plus.)

The Sants settled in Smithfield as the oldest son, who had emigrated previously, was already there. (The fact that Nathan Smith lived there may have had nothing to do with it. However, it is said that Jane had a way of getting whatever she wanted from her father). So when Nathan returned home, a short courtship followed and he and Jane were married the 3rd of October 1862 in the Endowment House at Great Salt Lake City. The following spring Nathan again went to the Mission Valley, returning in the fall.

In the spring of 1871 he moved to Idaho and settled where Banida now is. The country then was generally known as Battle Creek after a more or less famous fight with the treacherous Shoshone Indians. It was a battle in which the squaws also participated and only ended after exterminating all the Indians, with the exception of one or two who escaped to make future trouble farther north. This new country was a large flat plateau with low rolling hills and covered with a wilderness of grass and wild hay. He went here to procure range for his father's cattle which he ran on shares. In September of that year, my own mother was born--being the 5th child.

As this section grew in population, his home became the center for music and entertainment. His wife Jane had a fine contralto voice and he a pleasing baritone. They acquired an accordion and banjo, which most of the children learned to play. They and their family formed the nucleus for the choir for church gatherings and also those of a social nature.

When the railroad was first extended into Idaho, his ranch became the terminus. It was about one and one-half blocks from their house. During the construction of the railroad the family ran a boarding house for the construction men. Here his beef cattle were used to excellent advantage.

From this point he freighted to Montana, driving by himself four yoke of oxen on two wagons. He made his own yokes, bows and bow keys, hewing them out with an axe and drawing knife. He braided his own bull whips from calf hides, which he cured and tanned, and taught his children this art also (Mother, Margaret, braided six and eight strand nicely). He repaired his own wagons replacing worn parts of the wheels and setting the tires, which he did by heating the rims in a sagebrush fire until they were red hot and then hammering them on the wheel while they were in this expanded condition. He also did much work of this nature for his neighbors and friends.

During the mining fever at Caribou he transported by wagon and horse team, miners and their equipment to and from the mines to the railroad at Banida.

Throughout hard times, wars, pestilence, and struggle for a livelihood, Nathan was always devoted to his Church and his God which he earnestly served. He grew and advanced in the Priesthood. He was honest and industrious, always setting a proper example for his children to follow. He was a staunch believer in the old axiom "Early to bed and early to rise, etc." One night while waiting for the family to gather in their accustomed circle for family prayers, he removed his shoes and stockings in preparation for bed, and when they were gathered round he began the prayer. The kitten hadn't yet been put out for the night, and when he saw Nathan's bare toes he padded softly up, put out one paw and tickled the toes a little. Of course, Nathan moved his foot, which pleased the kitten very much. Thinking it a game he stretched forth his paw and tickled the toes again, when the tickling became unendurable, he stopped, turned around and said "Scat", vehemently, and then proceeded with the prayer, and if the titterings of the circle were the least bit audible, he had too much good sense to mention it.

The hard words he used when he was provoked were a joke among his children. At one time he was trying to get a colt into the barn. The colt was stubborn and would neither be led nor driven. He tried various means of persuasion but to no avail. One of the girls, watching him, said, "Father's getting angry, listen and you'll soon hear him swear," and in a minute they heard him say, "Get in there or I'll knock the mischief out of you."

Another instance - some of the boys were trying to ride a frisky young horse, but none of them could stick on him. Nathan thought he could, but he had hardly touched his back until he found himself, much to his surprise, sitting on the ground. To his children's delight he said, "My conscience, I'm off." Truly, profanity never passed his lips.

I recall several incidents of pioneer days wherein many of the cattle sickened and died from various causes, sometimes from drinking alkali water and sometimes from eating poisonous plants which came up by the roots after heavy rains, perhaps there were other causes. Cattle, of course, was Nathan's specialty. While skinning a poisoned animal, Nathan cut one of his fingers. The poison quickly spread through the blood stream and he became very ill but through his great faith and that of his family, he recovered and was able to continue his pursuit of a livelihood. However, the infection left him with a crippled hand, the injured finger permanently drawn forward and a condition in the food canal which almost always caused him great discomfort and pain while eating. I remember watching him in awe during these seizures but do not remember ever hearing a word of complaint.

The brightest spots in my memory of him are of the times he bounced me on his knee to the tune of many old and lively songs. He carried lemon drops in his pockets, which he called "sour drops" and always delighted his grandchildren with a treat of this homely sweet.

He and his adored wife, Jane, were the parents of twelve children, ten of which grew to maturity and have large families of their own.

He died of pneumonia at the home of his sister, Alice Smith Done in Smithfield, January 20, 1909, just prior to his 74th birthday. He is buried in the Smithfield cemetery.

For the purposes of completeness only, I wish to make mention of the fact that in later years, grandpa and grandma separated, however, they were never divorced. Doubtless there were many contributing causes, I think. Neither of them were really happy afterward. It was a step which both probably regretted to the fullest extent, but the dominant characteristic of perseverance or perhaps some might term stubbornness in the Smith make-up made him stick to the right as he saw it regardless of the cost. His posterity may be justly proud to have descended from a sire so noble and who so ably performed his share and more of the great work of pioneering the West.

In Their Own Words: Agnes Elizabeth Austin

The following is an autobiography written by Agnes Elizabeth Austin, daughter of William Austin and Agnes McIntier. She married James Rowley Ransom. There are also additions by Verna Ransom Sederholm (daughter), Elvina Ransom (daughter) and Ruth Burton Pierce (granddaughter).

By Agnes Elizabeth Austin:

I, Agnes Elizabeth Austin Ransom, daughter of William Austin and Agnes Elizabeth McIntire, was born February 17, 1861, at Logan, Cache County, Utah. When I was three years of age my parents were called by the authorities of the Church to go and help settle Bear Lake Valley. We moved there in the spring of 1864, settling at Bloomington. There were only a few families living there at the time. My father, being a minute man, would help guard the women and children from Indian raids. The Indians were very numerous there during the spring and summer until they left for their winter hunting grounds. My father was a great friend of the Indians. They would come for miles to shake hands with him before leaving in the fall. Father had charge of the fast offerings. These consisted of flour, butter, eggs, and etc. The bishop of the ward would send the Indians to our house for some of it. They would gather so thick in and around the house that we children had to get in one corner and sit very still. There was hardly room to pass in and out.

It was quite hard times in Bear Lake Valley at this time. For several years the grasshoppers had taken the gardens and crops. They were so thick that when they traveled, they would darken the sun, and when they lighted, everything was soon devoured.

Father always kept a few sheep, and in the spring of the year, when they were sheared, Mother and Aunty (Aunty was Father's first wife), would wash the wool, card it into rolls, then spin it into yarn. Some of this yarn they would have woven into cloth. At this time Mother didn't have a loom of her own, so she would have to hire the yarn woven. Some of the yarn was used for knitting stockings. I learned to knit while I was very young, and as I grew older I learned to card rolls, spin yarn, and get it ready to weave. I am thankful that my mother taught me these things, along with housekeeping, for it has been a great blessing in my life.

Mother taught school for a term or two at Bloomington. The families that had children attending would pay a small fee for each child. It was my privilege to attend this school taught by my mother.

I remember well President Brigham Young coming to Paris, Bear Lake Valley, to hold conference. Paris at that time was headquarters for the stake. For days everyone looked forward to his coming, and on the morning of his arrival, every boy and girl, grownups as well, would line up along the streets a little south of Bloomington to greet him. President Brigham Young rode in the first carriage, followed by other carriages containing apostles and other church dignitaries. After the company had passed everyone would fall in line and march back to Bloomington, then Father would hitch the team to the wagon and take the family to Paris to attend conference.

Father had to haul provisions by team and wagon through the mountains from Logan, Utah. This trip required several days. This, together with the hard cold winters and heavy snowfall, was becoming too hard and strenuous on Father, who was getting along in years, so he decided to move his family away from Bloomington. In the fall of 1871 we moved to Weston, Idaho. While we were living there, I became a member of the Relief Society Organization, and at this time I am still a member of that organization.

We lived at Weston four years, then Father took a homestead of 160 acres of land at Trenton, Utah, and we moved there in the spring of 1875. I worked out much of the time at Trenton. Many times I have washed on the board all day long for fifty cents. I worked at housework too, and in addition to the housework I had to spin one pound of yarn every day. The wages I received were one dollar per week, and sometimes less. While living at Trenton, I made the acquaintance of James Rowley Ransom, and after nearly two years of courtship we were married. Elder William Van Orden Carbine performed the ceremony December 13, 1879, at Clarkston, Cache County, Utah. Later on, when the Logan Temple was finished, we went through and had our endowments and were sealed together for time and eternity. This was on October 29, 1884. Apostle Marrioner W. Merrills was president of the Temple, and he performed the ceremony.

James had taken up a homestead at Trenton before we were married, about the fall of 1876 or the spring of 1877. We lived on this homestead until the fall of 1887, then we moved to Cleveland, Idaho. We settled on Cottonwood Creek and lived there four years, then in the year of 1891 James took up a piece of land under the preemption right on the divide between Cache and Gentile Valleys. Here we made our home throughout the years of our lives.

We were blessed with eleven children, four boys and seven girls, and, with the exception of one baby who died at birth, all of our children grew to maturity. On April 21, 1921, we were called to part with one of our daughters. She left a husband and a one week old baby girl. Our children are all active members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. My husband and two of my sons have filled missions for the Church. In April, 1899, my husband was called to fill a mission in the Northwestern States. My oldest daughter, Mary, was married, and my two oldest sons, James, 17, and William, 15, were my only support. In August of that year I gave birth to a baby girl. We had much sickness and hardships during my husband's absence, but the Lord was merciful to us and blessed us and we came through all right. He filled an honorable mission and returned home in April, 1901.

In the spring of 1905 I was called and set apart as visiting teacher in the Relief Society of Cleveland Ward. My husband, James, set me apart. I held this position until 1916, when the Cleveland Ward was divided and a ward was organized on the Divide. This new ward was named Wilson Ward and was organized July 31, 1916. My eldest son James was called to the office of Bishop to preside over this ward.

I was chosen and set apart as second counselor to President Mary Lundgreen in the Relief Society Organization. I was set apart by Bishop James A. Ransom, and I held this position until 1922, when the Wilson Ward was disorganized and made part of the Cleveland Ward once more.

July 16, 1908, my husband and I were called by President Louis S. Pond of the Bannock Stake to the Logan Temple to receive our second endowments.

The Lord has been merciful to me and has heard and answered my prayers. I have often heard the whisperings of the Lord, sometimes as plain as if some one near me had spoken. I recall many incidents in my life when the Spirit of the Lord has prompted me and these whisperings and promptings have been a light and guidance to me in my life, and I know that I have been blessed through the Spirit of the Lord.

My husband passed away July 25, 1926, at the age of 70 years. 108 living descendants survived.

Agnes Elizabeth Austin was baptized by Elder William Hulme May 7, 1971, confirmed by Elder George Osmond May 14, 1871, at Bear Lake, Idaho. She died 24 December 1938, was buried at Cleveland, Idaho, 28 December 1938. The grave was dedicated by George R. Burton, grandson. She died at Preston, Idaho.

My husband, James Rowley Ransom, died July 25, 1926, and on January 16, 1927 he came to me early in the morning. I had been awake and was going to get up but must have dropped to sleep. He told me that I had not paid tithing enough for him in 1926. I asked him why he had not told me that before, that I was afraid it was too late then as they were auditing the books. Oh, he was so natural, not poor and thin as we laid him away. I begged of him to stay but he said he had to go back, that he had just come to tell me about the tithing and then he went and I awoke broken hearted.

Our son James was in the bishopric at the time and I told him my dream, (if it was a dream,) but it seems too real to be a dream. James told me not to feel so bad about it, that he would see what he could do about it. So he went to the auditor and had it straightened out. He found that my mistake it had been placed to my credit instead of his father's. I was thankful to my Heavenly Father that James got there in time to give his father the credit that belonged to him. And it was and is a testimony to me that our loved ones that have died know what is going on here on earth and know what we do and are watchful of us.

Mrs. Agnes E. Austin Ransom
Treasureton, Idaho

 

By Verna Ransom:

I am going to add here at the close of this biographical sketch a few of the outstanding characteristics that we have come to know and respect in the life of our mother. Her faith in God, her love and devotion for the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and her willingness to acknowledge the hand of the Lord in all things, however great or small, has always been an inspiration to me. And I know that my life, as well as the lives of all her children, has been influenced for good by this wonderful trait of character. Her life was always one of love and devotion to her family. She rendered cheerful and willing service when and wherever she could.

In the later years of her life her health failed, retarding her activities greatly, but with her faith and strong determination and will to do so, she kept active at home tasks and among her flowers. Her flower garden was one of the most beautiful in the community. She supplied flowers each Sunday morning for the Ward Chapel.

 

Poem by Elvina Ransom:

Mother

When God created this great world
And made both day and night,
He placed here everything to make
It beautiful and bright.

The water with it's sparkling rills
And birds that sing so sweet,
The warm, bright sun to shine upon
The flowers at our feet.

He made the moon to shine at night,
The stars far without number.
He made the hills all crowned in green
Where all the beasts might wander.

Then placed His many children here
To beautify creation,
To love and live that they might make
A Holy Habitation.

Then gazing at His work to see
If there were any others,
"Ah me!" He said, "Will never do
Without some loving mothers."

He then placed Mothers here to fill
A great and glorious space,
And what could bring more pleasure
Than that kind sweet smiling face?

So as 'twas said of long ago
I now again repeat.
It takes a loving mother
To make a world complete.

 

By Ruth Burton Pierce (written on December 4, 1975):

We lived in a small settlement called the Divide, between Treasureton and Cleveland, Idaho. We received our mail from Treasureton, but we belonged to the Cleveland L. D. S. Ward. Our nearest town was Preston, also our nearest doctor was in Preston, and in those horse and buggy days that seemed a great distance away; so when illness came we depended on the Lord, with the help of our grandmother.

Just to know that Grandmother lived near gave us a sense of security. When Grandmother came when we had sickness in the family we all felt that everything would soon be better and it usually turned out that way. She knew many home remedies which seemed to help us. She seemed to have the gift of healing and a deep faith which gave comfort to us all.

Grandmother was there when I was born. My father had driven on a blizzardy November night to bring Grandmother and a midwife, Mary Lundgreen. Mrs. Lundgreen brought most of the babies into the world in that part of the country. Aunt Lottie Walton, not a relative, but we all called her Aunt, stayed with Mother while Daddy went in a sleigh on a very cold night to get help. My Aunt Verna Sederholm remembers holding me after I was washed and dressed, so she probably came with Grandmother. At this time we lived on Cottonwood Creek.

I remember when my sister Agnes was so sick Grandma would come and seemed to know how to help the pain. Later we learned of a disease called rheumatic fever, which is possibly what my sister had. It seemed to me that Grandmother had healing in her hands.

When I was about four years old and we lived in the "hollow", Mother would put a pretty clean dress on me, comb my long dark hair into ringlets, and send me up on the hillside to get a fresh flower to pin in my hair. Very often the flower would be a Sego Lily. Then Mother would say, "Now you can go over to Grandma's and say Good Morning." This was very special to me to walk through the lucerne and wheat fields all by myself. I knew I would be greeted with love and affection by my grandparents and my aunts and uncles.

I remember vividly walking home from school with my sisters and my cousins. We would always stop in the doorway of Grandmother's home. Then she would say, "Would you like a piece of bread and butter?" We were very bashful and would say bashfully, "We don't care." Of course we wouldn't miss that delicious home-made bread and butter for anything. Grandfather Ransom would tease us and say, "That's too bad. If you really want some, then say, 'Yes, please." Grandma's bread and butter was the most delicious I have ever eaten. Sometimes she put jam or jelly on big slices of bread. Oh, how heavenly! Often there was a cookie for us.

Grandmother loved her garden and grew such a variety of vegetables. I can see her now with her large hat on to protect her from the sun, guiding the stream of mountain water down the long rows of cabbage, corn, beans, squash, peas and onions and many other kinds of vegetables. In the fall when beans were ripe, Grandmother would ask the grandchildren to come and help shell them. Then she would store them for the winter use. So Agnes and Ila and I, along with Ethel, George, Mary, Jim and Vera from Aunt Mary's family, would all go down into the garden to shell beans. A large canvas was put on the ground, then the beans were placed on the canvas, and we would jump on the dry bean pods, or sometimes shell them with our hands. We would then hold them up high and let the chaff blow away. The pile of beans would grow larger and larger. Sometimes we were given a salt sack full of beans to take home with us. When we were finished, all tired but happy, Grandmother would have a delicious dinner waiting for her hungry grandchildren. That would be a perfect ending for that special day.

Our great delight was to be asked to Sunday dinner at Grandmother's. She was an excellent cook and so clean that it was often said that people would rather eat off her clean scrubbed floor than to eat off most people's tables. This was an old saying used by old-fashioned people.

Thanksgiving Day was a special treat as we all gathered at Grandmother's house for dinner and to give thanks for our blessings. As usual, the pond would be frozen over and we would skate on the thick ice with our cousins, sometimes with our uncles and aunts. We would sing Thanksgiving songs we had learned in school. Oh, the heavenly smells which would float out to us in the frosty air. When dinner was ready we would all gather around to hear Grandfather give a blessing on the food and express thanks to our Heavenly Father. In those days the grown-ups always ate first and the children waited. It seemed forever as they all ate their fill. We would anxiously wait to see if there would be food left for us children. When finally our turn came to eat there was always plenty. And how we did enjoy the turkey with stuffing, the many kinds of vegetable and Oh! The cakes and the pumpkin and mincemeat pies, all so delicious. It was good to feel the blessings of the year, and to express thanks for the things we were thankful for, as each of us were asked to do.

Grandmother loved flowers. Every seed was so precious to her. She often exchanged flower seeds with relatives and friends, and she often came home with a different kind of flower seeds tied up in the corner of her handkerchief, and with these seeds, along with her own, she created a thing of beauty. This beautiful creation was not alone for her own enjoyment, but for every one who came to her home. Everyone was greeted by Grandmother and made happy by a handful of her flowers. The flowers blossomed in every nook and corner around her humble home. Heavenly blue morning glories covered the east side of the house; their bright faces always turned toward the sun. Many varieties of old fashioned flowers such as bachelor button, hollyhocks, buttercups, daisies, larkspur, pansies and roses, with dozens of other varieties decorated the yard and home surroundings. Grandmother had a special gift for making things grow.

One of my favorite places to visit on a warm summer day was the ice house which Grandfather had built. A stream of cool water ran through one corner of the ice house. The stream of water came from a nearby spring, then it emptied into a pond which Grandfather had also made. From the pond he would cut large blocks of ice during the winter months, then store them in sawdust in the icehouse. This made a cool storehouse during the summer months. The long cold Idaho winters helped to preserve the ice for summer use. Oh, the sheer joy of entering this ice house on a hot summer day, to hear the cool water running, and to take a good deep breath of clean cold air. This ice house served many purposes. Overhead hung the long thin sacks of home made sausages, salt sacks of head cheese, all made by Grandmother. There was salt cured pork, smoked ham, and at times fresh mutton hung from the ceiling rafters. On each side of the ice house Grandfather had built shelves where the fresh milk was set in large tin milk pans. Grandma would skim the thick cream from the milk and put it aside until there was enough cream to make butter. When there was cream enough, Grandmother would put it into a tall wooden churn, and up and down, up and down, she churned until the butter came. The butter was then put into a large wooden bowl, washed in cold water, then worked with a butter paddle until all the buttermilk was worked out. She then molded the butter into a 16 ounce pound of rich yellow butter. This was by far the most delicious butter I have ever eaten. The buttermilk was saved, and then Grandmother would make pancakes for breakfast. The pancakes were so tender they'd melt right in your mouth. The butter was stored in the ice house, which served very well as a refrigerator.

Crocks of preserved fruits were also kept in this cool house. A large barrel of salt pickles stood in one corner. Grandmother put the small cucumbers in the salt brine in the fall and by the time spring came they would be cured and ready to eat. They tasted so good in the spring of the year, and people have said they would drive for miles just to eat one of these delicious salt pickles. I would like to say right here, too, that no one was ever turned away from my Grandmother's home cold or hungry. If they needed a place to sleep for the night, this she willingly provided.

One of my special memories was the 24^th of July. My grandparents would load their white top buggy, or wagon perhaps. With lots of thick cream and milk, sugar, etc., the big ice cream freezer, and ice, and all it takes for ingredients for ice cream, then drive the five miles to Cleveland to celebrate this special occasion. Grandmother would then, after arriving at their destination, stir up a batch of ice cream, pour it into the freezer, then Grandfather would put ice and salt around the freezer and go to work turning the freezer handle around and around until the ice cream was frozen just right and ready to eat. This process was repeated throughout the day until everyone who wished it was served a dish of home made ice cream. The children would gather around to get a dish of ice cream, or for a second serving, perhaps. Then at night, my grandparents would gather up all their dishes and things and drive back home, tired but happy for their day of service. Everyone had a good enjoyable time at the 24^th of July celebration, and one long to be remembered. The sports for the day consisted of baseball games and foot races and other games for the children. Prizes were awarded the winners. A program was usually held in the meeting house. One thrilling event that I will always remember, for, being just a child, it frightened me, was when several couples of men and women would dress up in pioneer costumes. I especially remember the ladies wearing their large sunbonnets. Then they'd take a few children and get into about a half dozen covered wagons and enact a scene of crossing the plains. As they drove peacefully along, a band of young men dressed as Indians, with feather and war paint, came galloping in on their war ponies, yelling and whooping, and made an attack on the wagon train. With the attack the wagon train horses would become so frightened they'd run; people and horses and wagons would scatter every which way. The women and children screamed, and the scene became very realistic. Some of the people re-enacting the play had in reality crossed the plains in the early Mormon trek. They seemed to enjoy the excitement displayed in the re-enactment scene.

My grandfather owned and operated a sawmill, and at times I would go with my Aunt Elvina to the sawmill for a week and help her cook for Grandfather and Uncles Jim, Will, John and Tom. One particular time, I remember it so well, I went with Grandfather and Grandmother to the mill on Hoopes Creek. My uncles were already there. We rode in a wagon, and when we were almost there Grandma said, "Ruth, let's you and me walk the rest of the way." We were glad to walk for a change; the scenery was so beautiful. The pine trees grew on every side and wild flowers were in bloom everywhere. Their fragrance was so good to smell. Grandfather reached the camp before we did and the boys, thinking there were no women folks to cook for them, felt very disappointed. When they finally saw us coming, walking along the road, they began to shout. They knew Grandmother would cook good food for them to eat. The first thing they asked for was a cake for supper. Although there was no milk to make the cake with, Grandmother went ahead to make one any way, using water and a bit more shortening, and the cake turned out delicious, just so light and fluffy.

My uncles were always good to me, and I endured much good natured teasing. Uncle John ran the steam engine for the mill, and every time he saw me crossing the narrow foot bridge over a stream of water he would blow the whistle and I'd fall off into the water. We had a wonderful week.

Another pleasant memory I have of my early years is of being permitted to stay overnight at Grandmother's house. I was always made to feel so welcome. My uncles were jolly and we had fun. But most of all I remember the summers, and of sleeping out under the big shade trees at the south of the house, and sleeping with my aunts, Elvina and Verna. I liked to lie awake and listen to the leaves whispering in the soft night breeze. I could hear the frogs croaking down near the pond of water, and I could hear the twittering of the birds in the trees as they settled down for the night. We would lie in bed and talk and tell stories until sleep quietly overtook us, then we'd have a perfect night's rest.

On this special occasions, morning came all too soon, and Grandfather would wake us up by playing the record, "Oh, it's nice to get up in the morning, but it's nicer to lie in bed." We'd get up to find Grandmother already in the kitchen with hot delicious buttermilk pancakes for breakfast, and with plenty of butter and home made jelly for topping.

One morning as I was sleeping in the east bedroom with Aunt Elvina, she said, "Ruth, wake up, wake up. Look out of the window and see Haley's Comet." This was in the early morning hours some time between four and five o'clock. I opened my eyes to look and there it was, a big bright star with a long light shiny tail behind it. Aunt Elvina asked me to always remember seeing Haley's Comet. I believe this was in the year 1910, and I would have been seven years old.

It was fun to be at Grandmother's house when my uncles brought the cows in from "over north". Now "over north" was any place north of my home and it took in miles and miles of forest land, and it made good pasture land for the cows. As the boys brought the cows down the lane toward the barn they'd call out, "Lumpy Dick for supper. Lumpy Dick for supper." Then Grandma would get out flour, heat some milk, add a pinch of salt and a good sized lump of butter, and in no time at all the lumpy dick was really to eat. We'd eat it with cream and sugar and a little cinnamon on top, and it was so good.

My first time to take a trip was with Grandpa and Grandma Ransom. They took me to Hyrum, Utah, to visit my Aunt Elvira and Uncle Fred Andersen. We went to Preston with team and wagon, then took the train in to Hyrum. I was nine years old and very bashful. On the table at every meal was a large bowl of fruit, so I naturally thought they were rich people. In Idaho fruit was scarce and we never had a variety of fruits. After a few days with them we returned to Preston, and as it was late at night, we stayed overnight in a hotel room. This was my first time to sleep in a hotel. I remember we had ham and eggs for breakfast and Grandpa told me I must eat all that was on my plate. It was a big plate and so full of food, that, try as I would, I could not eat all of it. After breakfast Grandpa got his team of horses from the livery stable, hitched them up to the wagon again and we went back home.

For a couple of years we lived at Cambridge, Idaho, a small community near Downey, Idaho, so my mother and grandmother made a trade. I was to go to help Grandma and Aunt Elvina was to come to Cambridge to help Mother. Frank Kropf (my cousin Ethel's husband) and my cousin George Burton took Aunt Elvina to Oxford, Idaho, where she took the train to Downey, to be picked up there by Daddy, and I took the next train out of Downey and went to Oxford. Here someone was waiting to take me to Grandma's. I stayed with my grandparents for a couple of weeks. I remember going to Preston with them, where Grandma bought a piece of gingham and made me a pretty dress.

Later on we moved back home, near to my grandparents, and I went to Preston to live with Mother's cousin, Myrtle Goff, so I could attend Preston High School. Sometimes Grandmother came to Preston and took me shopping with her. She liked to have company, and Grandfather had other business in town to take care of. After we finished shopping she would take me to the ice cream parlor and buy each of us a dish of ice cream. We both enjoyed shopping very much.

After I was married and living in Brigham City, 48 South, 3^rd East, Grandmother would at times spend a couple of days visiting my husband Virgil and me. These visits were during the winter months when she came to Brigham City, as she often did, to spend a month or two with Verna and Roger Sederholm. Whenever she came to visit us Virgil would go to town and buy soda crackers and nippy cheese, and the two of them would have a cheese and soda cracker feast. Unfortunately, I didn't like cheese, but I did enjoy seeing them enjoy themselves. A favorite snack for Grandmother was cheese and crackers.

These are only a few of my recollections of childhood and growing up days. There are many other happy memories of Grandmother. She was a person of great faith and perseverance, and she gave to all of us a feeling of security. This is also memories of my grandfather, and I must say that I loved them both very dearly.

In Their Own Words: Mary Elizabeth Ransom

This is an autobiographical account of Mary Elizabeth Ransom and her family, written toward the end of her life.

I, Mary Elizabeth Ransom, the daughter of James Rowley Ransom and Agnes Elizabeth Austin, was born 26 September, 1880, at Trenton, Cache County, Utah, the eldest of a family of eleven children, seven girls and four boys.

I was six years of age when my oldest sister, Agnes Amelia was born, having two brothers, James A. And William A., and no sister. I remember how thrilled I was when the told me I had a baby sister.

We lived on a homestead father had taken up prior to his and mother's marriage. It was about one mile north of where the city of Trenton is now located. It was a dry farm with no water only what we drew from a well. We lived in a one-room frame house which was the birth place of we four older children.

In the summer of 1881 Father and Mother came to Idaho with other families and camped in Big Canyon, where they cut ties for the railroad company, returning to our home in Trenton in the fall.

I can remember Father cutting rye with a reaper and Mother following, tying it into bundles by hand. While we were small children living in Trenton, Mother would never let us go very far from the house unless she was with us. I think that was because of so many tramps, as we called them. Many times she has taken us down to a little meadow northeast of our home, where we picked meadow flowers and thought that was a great treat.

Father was a good hand in the timber, and in a few years he and his brother Hyrum came to Idaho and found work at a sawmill in Soda Springs, Idaho. This being a long way to travel with ox team or horses, Father decided to move closer to his work. So in the year of 1887 we moved to Cleveland, Idaho, settling on Cotton Wood Creek. Here Father built a one-room log house, in which we lived.

The winters were very severe and the only way to get out of the valley was on snowshoes. The mail came in once a week, and some times only once a month.

We lived about five miles from the one-room schoolhouse, so I didn't get so very much schooling, only what my mother taught me. I am very thankful for these teachings. They have been a great help to me throughout my life. She taught me to sew, knit, crochet, also cord batts for quilts. I have also spun a little yarn to knit stockings.

My brother, John A., was born while we lived on Cotton Wood Creek. I have had some good times fishing and wading in that old stream.

I was baptized in Cotton Wood Creek at Cleveland, Idaho, 4 May 1889, by Ole Hansen, and confirmed a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints by James (Jence) Christensen, May 4, 1889.

We went back to Trenton, Utah in January of 1891 to spend the remainder of the winter, as there was an epidemic of measles in the valley and Mother, not feeling too well, hoped to escape them. But she didn't escape the measles and was very ill with a high fever for some time before giving birth to twin girls, Elvira and Elvina, 28 February 1891. They, too, had the measles. Mother was so ill and her eyes were swollen so badly she did not see her twin babies until they were nine or ten days old.

In April, 1891, we moved from Cotton Wood Creek to the divide between Cache Valley and Gentile Valley, Father moving the one-room log house up there, where it still stands at this writing, 26 September, 1959, as part of the old home. Four more children were born to them at this home, Violet, Thomas A., Verna, and Annie. There I spent the rest of my childhood days and that old home has some very dear memories for me.

My parents were not blessed with too much earthly means but were blessed with a testimony of the Gospel. Many times I have heard my father bear his testimony in meetings to the truthfulness of the Gospel and that Jesus Christ is the Son of the living God, and that Joseph Smith was a true Prophet of God. I have also heard my mother bear her testimony in Relief Society meetings. And they taught all their children those truths, also teaching them to observe the Word of Wisdom, which I believe they all do.

In the spring of 1898 I met George Burton of Bountiful, Davis County, Utah. After a six months courtship we were married 13 October 1898, in the courthouse at Salt Lake City, Utah, by an Elder Slone. We spent two or three weeks at George's old home in Bountiful, Utah, with his sister Mary and her family, his parents having both passed away prior to this time. We then came back to the home of my parents, where I spent the winter and my husband went on the desert with the sheep. He was working for Hyrum Stewart of Kaysville, Utah. Wages were thirty dollars a month.

He stayed with the sheep until March, 1899, then came home and homesteaded one hundred and sixty acres of land adjoining my father on the north. We moved a little frame cabin on the land to live in, and during that summer we built a log house, twelve by twenty-five feet, and moved into our new home before the winter weather began. Later we partitioned it off, making us two rooms.

On Christmas day, 25 December 1899, our first child, Ethel, was born. What a sweet little girl she was. And what a happy event that was in our lives. It was a very cold night, and my husband spent most of the night chopping wood to keep baby and I warm. My dear mother stayed with us until baby was nine days old, and we got along just fine.

It was hard times and my husband had to spend much of his time away from home working with the sheep to keep food and other necessities in the home, that being about all the work he could get.

In August, 1901, we went to Salt Lake City, Utah, with team and buggy, and on 21 August 1901 went through the Salt Lake Temple and were sealed for time and all eternity. Our daughter Ethel was sealed to us at this time. What a happy day that was for us. After spending a few days with my husband's sisters, Mary Ann and Sarah Ann and families in Bountiful, we returned home.

On 12 October 1901 our oldest son, George R., was born. What a nice little family we had now, blessed with a girl and a boy.

In the following years eleven more children came to bless our humble little home, each one being loved just as the first one, and just as sweet. In order of birth their names are: Mary, James R., William R., Vera, Orella, Rulon R., Mildred, Elvina, Willis R., Lincoln R., and Delma, making us the parents of thirteen children.

William R., Orella and Delma passed away early in life and are buried in the cemetery at Cleveland, Idaho.

I was chosen Secretary in the Relief Society of the Wilson Ward on 11 June 1916, and was set apart by my father, James R. Ransom, Mary E. Lundgren being the President. I was also chosen as senior teacher in the YLMIA 15 October 1916. And on 12 November 1916, I was chosen as First Counselor in the YLMIA of the Wilson Ward, my sister Elvina being the President.

After Mary E. Lundgren moved from the ward I was chosen President of the Wilson Ward Relief Society. My mother, Agnes E. Ransom and Annie Ames were my counselors. I held this position until they annexed the ward back to the Cleveland Ward.

My son George left to serve in the Eastern States Mission 25 June 1924, returning home in August 1926, having fulfilled an honorable mission.

On 13 March 1927 I was chosen President of the Cleveland Ward Relief Society, and was set apart 30 April 1927 by Henry Larson, which position I held for five years, then was released because of poor health. From my home to the Cleveland Ward meeting house and back was a distance of about ten miles. Many times I have saddled my horse and made this trip to attend Relief Society meeting. I also served as a visiting teacher in the Cleveland Ward Relief Society.

On the 22 January 1940 my son Willis entered the mission home in Salt Lake City prior to his departure for the Central States Mission, where he labored in the service of the Lord for two years, fulfilling an honorable mission, returning home 21 February 1942.

After he returned home from his mission he was called into the service of his country for four years. I think it was in August 1942 when he entered the service.

On march 4, 1944 my husband was killed accidentally with a horse while on the desert with Foss and Mecham Sheep Company. His funeral was held at Cleveland, Idaho, 9 March 1944. He, too, is buried in the cemetery at Cleveland, Idaho. Willis was still in the service of his country when his father was killed. Those were very sad and anxious years for me. To think of them bring back to me many sad and heartbreaking memories. Only through prayer and the comforting spirit of my Heavenly Father was I able to stand the trying ordeal.

On 21 September 1944 another little grandson, Lincoln Edward (Eddie) was born. He was a great joy and comfort to me, as I spent many lonely hours playing with and caring for him. His parents were living in part of my home.

In the fall of 1946 my daughter Mildred and I moved from our home on the divide to Cleveland, Idaho, and lived in a little just across the road from my son Rulon. We lived there about five years. While living there my daughter Mildred was called to serve in the Canadian Mission of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.

In February, after Mildred returned home from her mission, we went to Bremerton, Washington and spent five months with my daughter Ethel and her family, returning home in June.

In November, 1951, my daughter and I moved to Preston, Idaho, settling in the Second Ward, where we lived for three years. While living there I served as a Relief Society visiting teacher. On 24 January 1955 we bought this little home in the Preston First Ward, and moved into it on 26 January. I was called to serve as a visiting teacher in the Relief Society soon after I moved here and have served in this capacity ever since.

I have been blessed wonderfully by the Lord during my life and my prayers have been answered many, many times. I have heard the whisperings of the spirit to me on many occasions, also have been healed from my afflictions by the Elders through the power of the Priesthood.

I was given my Patriarchal Blessing by W. W. Sterrett, 13 June 1908.

I have ten living children, thirty-nine grandchildren, and fifty-five great grandchildren, a posterity of one hundred and four at this writing.

On the 18th of October 1959 I attended the Oneida Stake Conference when my son Willis was called and set apart as Second Counselor in the Oneida Stake Presidency by Elder Mark E. Peterson of the Council of the Twelve. What a thrill it was. Tears of joy filled my eyes.

I love my little home here where my daughter Mildred and I live a happy and contented life and love the work I do in the Ward.

In Their Own Words: James Rowley Ransom

Below is a biographical sketch of James Rowley Ransom and his family. It came from a repository of bio’s held by William Leon Ransom, but I am unsure if he is the author.

On January 16, 1856, at Salt Lake City, Utah, James Rowley Ransom was born. Both of his parents were immigrants from England, and his mother, Elizabeth Rowley, was born in the Parish of Warfield, Shropshire, England. As a child, he went south to Lehi with his parents at the time of the southern movement. He said he could remember going to Camp Floyd, and passing through the east gates of Lehi Fort. Lehi was protection from the Indians at this time. His father, James Ransom, was born at Bexhill, Sussex, England

This family made their home at Lehi until 1862, when they were called by President Brigham Young to go and help settle Southern Utah. After a long and tiresome journey by ox team, they arrived at Virgin City. This family was in very poor circumstances and James had to start work very young to help with the support of the family. He went four years without shoes, then he got work mixing and carrying plaster for a man who was building a house. In return for his labor the man made him a pair of shoes. He was so pleased with them, he put them on and went skating with a group of boys and froze his feet.

Their food consisted of broom corn seed ground through a coffee mill and made into bread, and roots and greens gathered from the fields. Once they had ground sugar cane seed for their bread. This bread was quite dark and not nearly as good as bread made from broom corn seed. When his youngest brother, George, was born, a neighbor lady brought a couple of white bread biscuits to his mother. This was the first white bread James had ever seen. His mother gave him a piece of crust from one of the biscuits, and he said it was the best thing he had ever eaten. He was seven years old at this time.

On June 29, 1865, when James was just nine years old, his father was killed while peeling tan bark with a neighbor. The neighbor felled a tree which accidentally struck him on the head, killing him instantly. He was buried at Virgin City. This left James, who was the eldest, along with his three brothers, to care for their widowed mother. After a couple of years the family moved back to Salt Lake with an uncle, John Ransom.

James got a job herding cows across the Jordan River, along with Heber J. Grant and B. H. Roberts. In a short time the family moved to Huntsville, Utah. Here they made their home until he reached manhood. Here he got wood and hauled it to Ogden where he found sale for it. During the winter he worked at a sawmill. When the family moved to Huntsville, James worked for Bishop McKay, who was the father of David O. McKay. Many years later, when David O. McKay was an Apostle and was visiting a branch of the Church in Montana, one of James' daughters, Violet and her family were living there and attended the meeting. After the close of the meeting Violet shook hands with Pres. McKay and he made this remark about her father, "I surely do remember him. Your father was my guardian angel when I was a child."

About 1876, when he was a young man about twenty years of age, James went to Trenton, Utah, where he homesteaded a piece of ground and built a small frame house. Two years later his mother came to make her home with him.

While living at Trenton, he made the acquaintance of Agnes Elizabeth Austin, and on December 13, 1879, after nearly two years of courtship, they were married at Clarkston, Cache County, Utah, by Elder William VanOrden Carbine. Trenton was only a branch at this time. A ward was organized sometime later with James B. Jardine as bishop.

While they were living at Trenton three children, Mary, James, and William were born. On October 29, 1884, after the Logan Temple was finished, James and Agnes received their endowments and were sealed, as well as having their three children sealed to them. Apostle Marrioner W. Merrills was President of the Temple and performed the ceremony.

Trenton was their home for several years. While here he was road supervisor for quite a while. In the fall of 1887 the family moved to Cleveland, Idaho, and settled on Cottonwood Creek. They lived here for four years, then in 1891 James homesteaded one hundred and sixty acres under the Preemption Right on the divide between Cache and Gentile Valley at Cleveland, Idaho. Then he deeded half of this, which was eighty acres, to a brother-in-law, Robert Austin, so there would be another family out there with him. This is where he made his home throughout the rest of his life. He was one of the first school trustees at Cleveland.

On November 18, 1894, he was sustained as superintendent of Cleveland Ward Sunday School under the direction of Bishop John B. Thatcher. In April, 1899, he was called to fill a mission to the Northwestern States. The eldest daughter, Mary, was married by this time, and the two eldest sons, James, 17, and William, 15, were the sole support of the family while he was gone. In August of this year, their last child, a baby girl, was born. The family suffered many hardships and much sickness while he was away, but with the help of the Lord, they managed to get by. He was not released from being Sunday School superintendent during his absence, but Henry Larsen was called to act temporarily during this time. James filled an honorable mission and returned home in April 1901, and took over his duties as superintendent of the Sunday School once more. This position he held for a number of years.

On 28 January, 1903, he was ordained one of the seven presidents of the Seventies, 108th Quorum of Bannock Stake. He held this position for some time. He was an active ward teacher most of his life until his health failed.

On July 16, 1908, he and his wife were called by President Louis S. Pond of the Bannock Stake to the Logan Temple to receive their second endowments.

James and Agnes had eleven children, four boys and seven girls. All grew to maturity except the last one, Anna, who died at birth. Two of his boys filled missions, and one was called to the service of his country during World War I. He and his boys owned and operated a sawmill in Gentile Valley for several years.

All of his children grew up to be active members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. On April 21, 1921, a daughter, Elvina Ransom Hill, passed away, leaving a husband and one week old baby girl.

James Rowley Ransom passed away July 25, 1926, at the age of 70 years. 108 living descendants survived. He suffered greatly during his illness, never complaining, but faithful to the end. He was buried at Cleveland, Idaho.

Dominic Cusanza

 

Birth: 5 May 1890 in New Orleans, Orleans, Louisiana, USA

Death: 30 April 1957 in New Orleans, Orleans, Louisiana, USA

 

Dominic Cusanza’s birth records spell his last name as Cusenza. He was born as the third child to Salvatore Cusenza and Vincenzia Guarnieri in New Orleans. He had one brother, Brase “Paul” Cusenza, and one sister, Anna Cusenza.

This image is from the vital records search at: http://www.sos.la.gov/tabid/641/Default.aspx

By the time the 1900 census was taken, it appears that the Cusenza family had been disbanded. Neither Salvatore nor Vincenzia can be found in the census and each child is recorded in a different location. Anna moved in with her mother’s relatives (uncle Vincent Guarnieri and Aunt Annunciatin Guarnieri Ferrera) in the 3rd Voting Precinct of New Orleans. Her name is spelled Cugenza here, but names, especially foreign names, were commonly misspelled in censuses.

While his birth record indicates that his name was Brase, Dominic’s brother went by the name Paul. He appears to have worked in ocean shipping.

Dominic was likely sent to live at St. Mary’s Catholic Orphan Boys Asylum where he was recorded under the name of Dominic Cusanso. His age is off slightly, but that is yet another issue with antique censuses. This entry is however, the closes and only likely possibility.

On 11 February 1915, Dominic married a Giovannina DiGanzi (or something near that). Below is extracted information from their marriage certificate:

The couple had three children, namely: Salvador Cusanza (b. 1915), Mary T. Cusanza (b. abt 1917) and Josephine Gloria Cusanza (b. 1919), all of which grew up in the city of New Orleans, Louisiana. Some of their residential addresses include:

• 1027 Royal Street, New Orleans, Louisiana
• 2011 Desire Street, New Orleans, Louisiana
• 1810 Bayou Road, New Orleans, Louisiana

Dominic died on 30 April 1957 in New Orleans. His wife, Jennie, died about eleven years later in 1968. They are both buried at the Saint Vincent De Paul Cemetery in New Orleans.

To see Dominic’s Find A Grave Memorial Page, please visit the link below:

• http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GRid=6549110

 

Below are various photos and documents related to Dominic Cusanza and his family.

Dominic’s WWI Draft Registration (Click to Enlarge)

 

Dominic Cusanza’s WWII Draft Registration

 

Photo of 1027 Royal Street in 2009 taken by Google User “Mistlethrush”

 

Photo of 2011 Desire Street from Google Street View, ca 2012

 

Photo of 1810 Bayou Road from Google Street View, ca 2012

In Their Own Words: Henry Petty Dotson

This detailed memoir was written by Henry Petty Dotson (often referred to as H. P. Dotson). It contains detailed information about his own life and the lives of family members. The notes in parenthesis were added more recently by some other member of the Dotson family and include references to what is now known about the dates and location addressed. The introduction to the piece reads, “From a History of One Branch of the Dodson-Dotson Family written by H. P. Dotson in 1909, at which time he was 86 years of age.”

My paternal grandfather, Elisha Dotson (Dodson), was from Virginia. He married a Miss Rachel Henry, a relative of Patrick Henry, about the middle of the 17th century (ca 1777) and moved from Virginia and lived for a few years on or near the Holston River in the southeast part of Kentucky (current atlas has the Holston river in southwest Virginia running through the city of Holston, into Tennessee near Kingsport and on to Knoxville). He was a Baptist clergyman. My father, Reuben Dotson, was born October 6th, 1781. About the beginning of the 18th century, grandfather moved to Williamson county, Tennessee and lived with my father for a few years, six miles east of Franklin, the county seat of that county. About 1826, grandfather Dotson moved with his wife to an adjoining County (probably Maury Co.) where they died two years or so afterwards. I was then about five years old and remember them well. My maternal grandfather, Garner McConnico, was also a Virginian and was one of the most prominent clergymen of his day. Both he and grandfather Dotson were what is still known as Primitive Baptists, whose names appear in Benedist's History of Baptists, a standard work of that day, now in 1909 out of print. Grandfather McConnico married in Virginia to a Miss Pollie Walker and moved to Williamson county, Tenn. about the same time grandfather Dotson did. At that date that part of Tenn. was just being settled by imigrants from the older states and the Indians were sometimes troublesome and many were the tales of horror I often heard mother recite. Sometimes whole families were butchered by them. Often a man was shot down while at work in the field and woe to the family at the home. Men always carried their firearms to the field as they never knew when a lurking Indian was around. At church or any other gathering every man took his gun and pickets were sharp on the lookout to prevent a surprise and avert a massacre. The people of this generation can form but a faint idea of those troublesome times.

My father, Reuben Dotson, married Nancy McConnico in Williamson county, Tenn. in 1805 and lived for a few years about ten miles east of Franklin. Here the following children were born: Mary H. Dec. 25, 1806, Garner H. Aug. 30th, 1808, James M. Dec. 5th, 1809, William W. April 7th, 1812, Garner M. May 5th, 1814, Tabitha T. Sep. 3, 1816, Christopher L. Nov. 20th, 1818, Adeline T. Dec. 12, 1820, Henry Petty July 15, 1823 (author of this article). This brings my narrative down to my birth, and while I was yet too young to remember anything, my father moved to another place six miles east of Franklin. At a very early age, perhaps not more than three years old, my memory goes back and I seem to live over again the scenes of my childhood. The dwelling was on a hill with five springs of pure water at its base. To the east, in my minds eye I can see my playground where happy childhood (words appear to be missing here) with brothers and little negros romp from place to place in childish glee. At the foot of the hill father built a still house, just below the spring and a few yards away he built a mill to furnish meal for making whiskey. I began to be old enough to drive oxen around in the mill and many days I was thus employed. When my services were no longer required there I would dodge out at every opportunity to keep from being put to other work. The land in that part of Tennessee was very fertile and the crops suitable to the climate were abundant. At any time during the year a fat shoal could be killed for fresh eating. Pumpkins were planted all over the cornfields and numerous loads of them were housed for winter feed for the stock. At that date every farmer of note had his still house and whiskey brandy were put on the market for revenue, as well as tobacco. At that tender age I was rather timit and extremely bashful. Among the incidents of my childhood that made such an impression was the death of William W. in his 18th year. He died of what was then called winter fever. About the same time, Tildy, a negro woman died with the same disease. Often I followed this brother, Garner and Christopher in their sports with bow and arrow. William's death created a sadness in the family hard to bear. My oldest brother, James H., had now arrived to manhood and he was given the privilege to make the younger children mind and do his bidding. I feared him more than I did father and mother. The first crop he made for himself he made me carry water to hi in the field in a half gallon pot. His field was perhaps a quarter of a mile from the spring and when I would get it to him with the water he would drink it all and start me on another trip for more. This kept me on the go nearly all the time. I got tired of this and as I had to go to the still house spring for it, I asked I asked the stiller to clean the slop piggin as it would hold three of four times as much water and I would take that to him and I would have some time to rest. The stiller, Tom, said "No, Marse James won't drink water outer that piggen", but I thought he would so I got him to clean it up and carried it as full as I could which was a ticklish job as it had no bales on it. When I got to him with it and handed it to him, he looked daggers at me and asked "what did you bring that for?" I made some excuse, I don't know what. He looked at me for a moment and then dashed the water all over me and said "Now go and bring water in the gallon pot". I went glad to get out of sight.

In those days it was customary at harvest time to invite the neighbors in to a reaping when the grain was ready to cut. On one occasion a number of reapers were in the field and I was left in a nice Sycamore grove to guard the water and a bottle of brandy till the men would come in for water, a dram and to rest a while. Og course I got a dram when themen did. It tasted pretty good. After the men had gone back to work I climbed up in one of the sycamore saplings and began to sing an old song I had often heard the negros sing, something like this, "In the mansions above, &". After I had been up in the sapling for s short time I said to myself, I will go down and get another dram" and again I did the same thing saying to myself "This will be the last". So down I went and took a pretty good swig. I saw the bottle was lowered considerably and to hide it I filled the bottle with water to make it as full as it had been. I mounted my perch again. I began to sing with a pretty thick tongue. The men who were not very far away heard me and soon came to the grove. My father ordered me down. I was fast losing consciousness and about when I got in reach of the men some one of them took me in his arms and gently lifted me down. I was now past all consciousness and knew nothing till the next day. For a long time after that I couldn't bear even the sight of liquor.

The student of history will remember something of the career of John A. Murril, the great Lanf Pirate whose operations embraced a few years beginning about 1827 or 1828. While I do not remember ever seeing him I remember vividly his accomplice, Daniel Crenshaw. Up to that time of their manhood they stood fair as the average man of that day. They were both residents of Wiliamson county. My father often saw them as other young men. My father hired Mr. Crenshaw to make the running gear of the mill spoken above. When Crenshaw had finished his job on the mill he disappeared and a fine young horse and bridle and saddle intended for my bother also disappeared and was never recovered. My father, a year or two after this began to make plans to move to Alabama and sent brother Christopher to a part of the county called Turnbull to get iron for wagon tires. I went with him. Billie Davis who married my older sister (Mary H.) lived there and I remember we crossed a small stream ten times on the route, which is an indication of the roughness of that part of the county. My father had sixteen negroes, old and young. Three of them were men who had wives and not wishing to separate them from their wives, sold Hardy to a Mr. Boyd, Isaac to a Mr. Cole, and Tom to a Mr. Warren who carried Tom to southern Mississippi even before father got ready to move. This shows the difference between men as to human kindness. Hardy, being my father's oxen driver was retained to drive his ox team to Alabama. He sold his homestead to a brother of my mother's, Garner McConnico.

Having secured about one hundred head of meat hogs and all being ready, a start was made near the last of Dec. 1830. The hogs were driven while the family moved making about fifteen or twenty miles per day. No incident of note on the route so far as I remember till we reached Columbia on Duck River, over which was a toll bridge. Here the tollsman wanted so much toll for each hog and father considered it so unreasonable that he refused to pay it. Stationing himself on this side of the river he told the hog driver to drive them down to the water's edge. Then he began to call them and the whole herd swam over. Not a hog was missing to the surprise especially of the toll keeper. We reached Florence, Ala. on the Tennessee river on Christmas eve, crossed over on a house boat and camped on this side. On the fall before, my future wife (Mahala Adeline Weeks) then a babe in her mother's arms, passed Florence on a Flat Boat destined for a home in Miss. In due time we arrived at our destination twelve miles south of Columbus, Miss. in Pickens County, Ala., half a mile east of the Mississippi state line and about four miles from a village on the Tombigby river known as Young's Bluff, and afterwards called Nashville. On the 13th of Feb. 1833 a new brother came into the family that weighed twelve pounds and he was given the name of William Lazarus Hardiman (Dotson). On the night of Nov. 13th, one of the most wonderful displays of shooting meteors we ever saw occurred (Encyclopedia Britannica refers to it as, "the great meteor shower of 12 Nov 1833"). While still living on this place Major Warren brought Tom, one of the negro men father sold in Tenn. to keep from separating him from his wife. But Major Warren dealt with negroes as so many cattle.

While yet in Tennessee small coins were called four pence, nine pence or two or three pence, here it was called Pickmam (?) , bit and so on. This sounded strange to us, but the most astonishing thing to small children and even to grown negro women was the cry of the Whipporwill at night and they kept close lest one of these Whipporwills might whip them. We could hear all sorts of hobgoblin stories and those with the shrill cry of the Whipporwill, kept us indoors till we learned better. In the Fall of 1834 the family moved to another place half a mile away which was bought of Dr. Polman. On this place was a fine peach orchard and a fine body of creek bottom land Kingkaid (Kincaide) Creek. On this creek my father and UNCLE LAZARUS DOTSON built a mill. Here some half dozen of us boys would stroll of a Sunday morning to go in bathing and other sports. One Sunday morning we had gone to the mill and about ten o'clock I discovered the water in the mill pond didn't look right. It seemed to be in a quiver and I called the attention of the other boys to it. But the oldest one of them made light of it and went on with their sport. I stood watching it and looking at other objects nothing looked right. Filled with apprehension of something unusual, I knew not what, I made for home as fast as I could go. When I got in sight of home I saw all the family who were at home standing in the yard gazing at the sun which was now about half round. I had never heard of such a thing before, really thought the end of time was at hand. Stars began to be seen in the sky, cattle to show signs of distress and fowls to go to roost. By this time the boys I had left at the mill had geared four of themselves with Pawpaw bark to a truck wagon with one of their number as a driver, had got about half way home and seeing it was getting dark in daytime became so frightened that they took no time to ungear and came pellmell up the lane about as badly scared as boys ever get. The sun was now completely covered and only a dark spot was seen, instead of a bright noonday sun.

In the same year, 1835, while working in my little patch one Saturday morning the sky was murky and I could look at the sun. I saw what looked like a buzzard flying across his disk. I stood gazing at it for some time seeing it did not get off I soon went to the house and reported it. I had never heard of such a thing before and this occurring after that total eclipse, we knew not what to expect next. I was then about 12 years old and after I arrived at manhood I had a desire to consult works on astronomy and I learned from a work called Geography of the Heavens that a spot on the sun that can be seen by the naked eye cannot be less than 50,000 miles in diameter, an area many times larger than the earth.

(handwritten on margin: "Notes of Henry W. ancestors: Incidentally, I have Henry W. Dotson-marriage to Martha Hall George in Columbus, Miss.-1831. They moved to Miss. between 1840-42 as Mamia's mother Louisa Euporia was born in Miss. in 1842 the first child to her born there. So you can figure out when Nancy died." Believe notes referred to Lazurus' son, Henry Washington Dotson, 1806-1883. LDS ancestral file has his marriage to Martha George 21 Oct 1830, Pickens Co., AL. Their daughter, Louisa Eugenia was shown as born 13 Dec 1840, Columbus, Loundes Co., MS.)

An incident that cast a gloom over the whole family a younger brother by the name of Reuben Lafayette Jackson (Dotson) was my daily playmate and the fall of that year, 1835, in cotton picking time, one evening perhaps two or three hours before night he took his basket of cotton to the cotton house in the yard, which was not over fifty yards from the house. As he did not come back to the field and no one at the house had seen him we began to hunt for him. After all had come in I went into the cotton house and saw his legs sticking out and the cotton all leveled off around him. My father and brother Garner were outside standing at the door. When I told them what I saw they both got in and pulled him out and he was dead. Language fails me to tell my sorrow. And for a long time afterwards it seemed my life was a blank and I could not smile again. Though this sad event occurred 70 years ago a tinge of sadness is (unreadable) when any circumstance calls it up.

The mill spoken of above was accidentally burned and my father then sold his interest in it and began preparations to leave to Mississippi. He entered 160 acres of land in the N.E. corner of Attala county about 20 miles north of Kosciusko and about four miles from the Historical village of French Camp. He took a couple of Negros there and opened up a farm in 1836. The white family remained in Alabama and I, with with smaller members of the family made a corn crop. The latter part of that year, the whole family moved to our new home and I found the whole forest full of game. Deer, turkeys, wolves, wildcats and an occcasional bear. Two species of birds we had never seen before were plentiful Parocueets, a beautiful species of Parrot, were often seen in droves. At night they roosted by hanging themselves by their crooked bills over a limb. They had a peculiar squall. Another species called Ivory Bills for want of a name. On the approach of fowl weather they uttered a squeal that could be heard half a mile away. When the country began to be settled up both these birds disappeared from this part of the state. I saw them in (the) Mississippi bottom during the civil war in 1864. From 1832 to several years after an occasional indian could be seen around but they proved harmless. It was said to be a boast among them that they never shed a white man's blood. Game was so plentiful that it could be seen at any time in any direction when out in the forest. One of my greatest pleasures was hunting and many a turkey gobler I brought in during the spring season. But I was never an expert in killing deer.

About every four years my oldest brother (James M.) who remained in Tennessee after my father moved from there paid us a visit. And when in my 17th year I was permitted to go home with him. At that day there was no rail roads and the trip was made by horseback. It was in the fall of 1840 that we made a start from father's home in Attala county, Miss. and in due time reached brother Garner's in Pickens county, Alabama. After resting a day or two, we made a start for brother James' home in Tenn. The trip was one of pleasure to me. This was on the eve of the of the presidential election of Harrison who was a Whig. On our route, at almost every village or place of note, flags were hoisted on poles by Democrats and Whigs. And Politics ran so high that each party tried to raise the highest pole. After 7 or 8 days we reached brother's home and I soon became familiar with new scenes and new friends. After a time I started to school but the teacher, a scotchman, while perhaps a firm scholar was a poor teacher and hence his school was to a degree a failure. During Xmas holidays there was a party every night through the neighborhood and at every place a ball was given. And nearly the whole night was spent in such festivities. At my age, 17, these festivities were a treat to me. After being there till the next spring, I began to be homesick. Little incidents not necessary to mention only intensified my desire to return home to my father's house. In the early spring I made the trip. It was a lonesome trip but I made it without any mishaps, arriving at brother Garner's in due time. After a few days, I hired to a cousin, James Dotson (probably Lazarus' son, James W.), and when my time was out I hired to a Mr. Hancock. Before beginning with him I got a letter from father demanding me to come home. This was welcome news and I persuaded brother Garner to go with me. I had been sowing wild oats long enough and I would have been glad to see even a dog I had seen in Mississippi, much more my own father, mother, brothers and sisters for ever since I can remember there was no place like home.

I forgot to mention in it's proper place some incidents of my trip from Tenn. and will relate them here. When I got ready to start I bid them all goodbye Perkins Hardiman (probably Nicholas Perkins Hardiman, brother of James M. Dotson's wife, Susan Hardiman) accompanied me for about ten miles and finally I came in sight of my father's old homestead. I rode around the largest poplar tree I had ever seen, it was 36 feet in circumference which gave it a diameter of 12 feet. It was apparently about 50 feet to the lowest limbs. It was said to have 7 bee hives in its limbs. It was in sight of the old homestead. The house was on the hill where I spent the first years of my childhood. A mile further on we called at Mr. Boyles and I called for Hardy, the old negro my father had sold him, who came out to the gate and I had a short talk with him. He was now too old to be of much service and I bid him goodbye for the last time.

Like other boys of my age, I drifted along from one thing to another (and) went to school all the time I could which was about three months each year after crops were laid by. Some of the teachers were only apologies and I learned but little. I attended a fifty day grammer school taught by Mr. Jack Malcomsom and for the time employed this was of more advantage to me than any schooling I ever had. I almost got Hutcham's grammar by heart. When in my 22nd year I attended school for about 8 months, taught by Amasree White. Here I studied Algebra and surveying, arithmetic, grammar and so forth. Having a fondness for music I attended all the singing schools in reach of me.

About the close of my school career I formed the acquaintance of a nice family (David and Betsy Weeks) in which there were four girls. The older one soon married I got my wits together to win the youngest (Mahala Adeline) that I thought was a beauty. I had always been so bashful around the girls that I found it very difficult to carry on a conversation with them and if they were not talkative themselves then most of the time was spent saying nothing, However I did win the youngest girl of this family and we were married the 9th of June, 1845. And up to the present time in 1909, we have been together 64 years. In all these years I have found her to be a real helpmeet and under the most trying scenes to be a real heroine.

My father gave me a tract of land not far from his home in the N.E. part of Attala county. On this place we lived for several years and here several of our children were born. Apart from farming after a primitive style I taught literary and singing schools. After my father's death in (21 Jan) 1854 I sold my place and moved to Oktibbeha county about two miles south of Whitefield. This was in the year 1856. For the next year and the year following I taught music and it seemed that no matter what day it was nor how busy the whole population seemed to attend. I was also selected as clerk of the Louisville Baptist Association for five terms. The civil war broke out in 1860 (12 Apr 1861) which cast a gloom all over the country and to quote an old music teacher "there was not a song in Winston County". We learned that President Lincoln had called for 75,000 troops to preserve the Union. The people of the South flew to arms and what followed I leave to the student of history. Not being of a military disposition I did not want to go into the army and having been appointed by the County Board to get up supplies for the families of those who were in the army I was exempt. But I was forced to go by those who over rode the law and I resorted to every expedient that I could to keep out of it. I will say in passing that it was a rare sight to see a young man or middle aged man at church or anywhere else while the war lasted. And to the credit of most of the negroes be it said they would have died in defence of the women and children left in their care, while their masters were in the army. But I was forced by conscription to go. By this time I had lost all hope of the success of the south to win her cause and I was not alone in this. Hundreds of soldiers were kept in by coercion and I determined to get out of it. The narrow escapes and the hunger endured I have no language to describe but the sweetest morsel I ever tasted was some bread crumbs in the bottom of (my) haversack. I knew then I could never see a crumb of bread wasted. I finally reached home and after the usual greetings from my sister and her husband, I lay on a bed to rest. I felt I could weep myself away.

After rest from the fatigues of my long trip from Dalton, Georgia and fed on wholesome food I began to feel myself again. But I had to use the utmost caution for the country was full of cavalry, to force men into the army. This suited them better than to go to the front themselves. As time (unreadable) the hopelessness of the south to win was a foregone conclusion but the leading men of the south seemed determined to rule or ruin. To live at home at peace was out of the question and while in the midst of these troubles a brother of mine (William Lazarus Hardiman Dotson) sent me a note saying he was going to California and wanted me to go with him. He thought the trip could be made in safety and once we were there we would be out of it. When this message was first delivered to me I had no thought of going but after thinking it over and seeing no prospect of better times I decided to break up and go. Before I could get ready my brother and John Dudley, a nephew left and I saw them no more for twenty years. However before he left he sent me a note telling me to come on and meet him in Independence, Missouri and there would be a letter there telling me of his whereabouts. After getting things ready we made a start and through untold hardships and delays incident to those troubled times we reached by wagon and team the Mississippi river and after troubles too harrowing to mention or describe we got aboard a gunboat and were landed at Helena, Arkansas. After a week or ten days stay were taken to Memphis, Tenn. and after a short stay there were carried to Cairo, Illinois and by rail to Duquain (DuQuoin), Illinois about 75 miles north of that place on the I. C.(Illinois Central) Railroad. Here we stopped among strangers to make the best disposition of ourselves we could. Having made the trip in the sickly season of the year three of our children died there, James was born Jan. 22, 1849, Acena a lovely little girl born Jan.1857 and Nina a lovely babe, born May1864. There all three died within a month of each other in the fall of 1864 and are buried near Duquain, Ill. None but those who have gone thru such trials can realize the sorrow we experienced.

I soon got work to do and wrote to brother and directed it to Independence, Missouri, first and last wrote four letters but received no answer from him. I then wrote to the post master there and in due time got an answer stating that there were four letters for my brother but none for me. This was sad news for me for he was gone I knew not where. To make the best of my situation was now my aim. After staying at Duquain till early spring I engaged for a time to a Mr. John Snyder out in the country about ten miles from Duquain. There I became acquainted with Dr. Cobb Mulkey and a son in law by the name of Isaac Clayton. With Mr. Clayton I made a crop in 1865. We found them to be among the best people we ever knew even among our own kindred than Dr. Mulkey, Clayton and his wife. Thru their influence we were introduced to others and I taught a singing school, thereby becoming acquainted with a wide circle of newly made friends. It often occurred to me why should these people be engaged in a deadly struggle with the people of the south.

The war came to a close in April of that year and hostilities ceased. Again it was possible to live in the south among our own people. Having lost sight of my brother as related previously, a strong desire to return to Mississippi came over us and we began preparations to go back.

All things being ready some of our new made friends went with us to DeSoto, a station on the I. C. Railroad and we reached Cairo in due time. Not being able to pay a hotel bill we spent the night as best we could. We first made our beds in a low hay loft and the rats soon ran us out of there by permission we went to a little hut in which fires were left for some purpose and here it was so hot we could not stay there so the remainder of the night was spent at the depot, as best we could. The next morning I went down to the steamboat landing and engaged passage to Memphis. We soon had our effects there and by some mistake began to get on the wrong boat. When I saw this I (unreadable) to the boat official. He asked me where I wanted to go and learning that Memphis was my destination, said he would take us there and flat refused to take our effects off. The cost would be no greater than on the other boat. We all got aboard and we were soon under way. The boat was loaded almost to the waters edge. Near Island No.10 the boat hit a snag and soon began to sink. But being near a woodyard it was cabled to trees on the shore. We were on the deck floor and had to wade water almost shoe mouth deep to reach (the) forward part of the boat to get to the cabin floor. All our effects were floated off into the river except the clothing we had on. We got ashore and saw the mules, cows and hogs struggle in the river. Many of them were drowned. There seemed to be more than a hundred head of stock on board. As soon as the boat began to sink the whistle that gave the signal of distress began to blow and the boat that we had intended to take came to the relief of the passengers. Part of our fare was paid back and with this I secured passage to Memphis with barely enough to pay our fare to Vaiden in Carroll County, Miss. Here we landed and made our way three or four miles on foot to a farm house where we were permitted to stay until Billie our oldest boy could get to our kindred near French Camp for conveyance. As soon as the trip could be made conveyance was brought by brother Mason and the next day we were taken to our people. We made our temporary (home) with my wife's mother (Elizabeth "Betsy" Fulcher Weeks) five miles east of Springfield, Miss. and in the year 1866 we made a crop. The early spring was so wet we made very little.

On the 10th of January 1866, (twins) Burkett and Lou were born. Late that fall I made arrangements to teach school at Milligan Springs church, 14 miles east of Winona and boarded with Mr. Tom Stuart at $10.00 a month. That together with two singing schools during the year paid about $700.00. This with what could be done at home put us on our feet again. In 1868 I cultivated part of the W. T. Weeks land and made a fair crop. Prior to this a letter from brother William addressed to Lewis Black (probably Samuel Lewis Black, husband of Almyra Angeline Dotson, sister of H. P.) was received. This is the first word I had had from him since losing sight of him. He partially explained why he did not stop at Independence, Missouri.

The next year I bargained for a homestead from Jesse Fulcher, opened it up and made our home there till 1879. During those years I taught school at Mt. Airy to which place I gave the name of Mt. Airy on account of it's exposure to cold winds. The name was afterwards given the name of the Methodist church there. Perhaps but few know how the name originated but this is how it was.

Up to this time I had served as Secretary for five times for the Louisville Baptist Association and othe congregations, served a Deputy Assessor for Choctaw county in 1875, taught both literary schools and singing schools. But in 1879 we thought we saw a chance to better our conditions by going west, as by this time I had learned that brother William had prospered in his western home and we naturally wanted to go there too. We disposed of our effects here except what we could take with us and finally landed in the San Luis Valley of Colorado (the Mormon colony in Manassas, Conejos Co., CO) instead of going to Utah where brother William lived. For about two years we were happy in our new home and pretty well satisfied. We soon got acquianted with people there and like people everywhere, some were first class with whom we enjoyed association and then there were those who were not what we thought they should be. The climate was so different to what it had been in the sunny south where we were raised and our children were born that we soon wanted to return. This was partly due to the fact that I had not gone to Utah where brother William was. We kept up a close correspondence still hoping that we would again live close together. A blizzard that killed all vegetation the night of Aug. 27, 1882 decided us to seek a warm climate and we made preparations to return to Miss. We arrived here Dec. 1, 1882 and got a cordial welcome from our kindred and were given all the aid our kindred were able to give. All our efforts were needed to make a living.

During the spring Brother William paid us a visit and I was proud to see him as I had not seen him since 1864. The privations he and his family had undergone for the first years were vividly rehearsed and considering the circumstances it was well that we did not get up with him in Missouri. Later in the spring William returned to his home in the west and I taught school in Dry Creek, in Attala county and I made a small crop on my wife's mother's place. During the next year I homesteaded 120 acres of land moved on it and the year 1885 I sold books. But I found it a poor business for me. I had been pretty extensively known over the surrounding country and I was generally welcomed where night over took me. Otherwise it would have been an expence instead of profit. I don't think I ever felt more dependent during my life than I did at that time. To my mind not one woman in ten thousand could have done better than my wife did under such adverse circumstances. And Burkett, just emerging into manhood was the prototype of his mother. He was always equal to the occasion and now at 43 he is a man among men. I followed farming and teaching until 1895.

I had now arrived at the age to retire from teaching and needed a quite life. We were now visited by Mormon elders and so far as we could judge they were all first class men. And their preaching was in keeping with the scriptures as we understood them. By their contributions and help from Brother William and his son Reuben, we were able to take a trip to Salt Lake City.

We left Sturgis on the 8th of June 1899 and arrived at Salt Lake City on the 12th. We were soon at his temporary home. He was living in a rented house and after congratulations were over and refreshments served and a good nights rest, my brother took me to places of interest in the City. He introduced us to his friends as we met them. He seemed to know everybody he met and seemed to be regarded by them as first class. In a day or two we took a trip to the Pavilion at Saltair. There we saw perhaps more than a hundred bathing in the briny water of Salt Lake. This was a novel sight to us as they were floating in the water like so many corks. It is impossible to sink in this water. It is only necessary to hold ones hand up to keep from being strangled.

After resting and visiting in the city till the 26th we took a trip to Mt. Pleasant where brothers youngest daughter Mima (Nancy Jamima) lived and ran a hotel. We were driven around to places of interest and spent ten very pleasant days except my wife's health was very poor and she could not enjoy it as otherwise she would.

On the 1st day of July we left Mt. Pleasant for Minersville my brother's former home. Here his son Reuben lived, engaged in farming and merchandising. We stopped off at Provo to wait for the train that would take us to Minersville. We visited with Elder Jones who had visited us in Mississippi. Reuben met us at Milford with a conveyance to take us to Minersville, 14 miles away. After getting to Minersville Hattie Gentry, another of Brothers daughters took us home with her about 20 miles away. We visited the Barracks built originally for soldiers but now used for a high school. Here a number of stone buildings resembling a small village were seen. We went thru a mine on the way back and I was glad to be out of there and declared that I would never try that again. On the 4th of July I attended a celebration at Minersville that made me think of the celebrations we had back in Miss. On the 15th of July we went to Parawan in Iron county 40 miles south of Minersville. A few miles from Parawan the road runs thru a gap in the foot hills. On both sides of the road are high rock walls filled with all sorts of pictures. Hieroglyphics, incidentally the work of a prehistoric race. As far is known they have never been deciphered. Some of there pictures were at least 20 feet in height. We were carried up into the mountains to what was called Housier Lake. This Lake was fed by a bold spring of ice water. The lower end of a depression in the mountains by an embankment. The length of the lake is about half a mile and it is well stocked with fish. We had quite a feast eating them and drinking cold buttermilk. An old gentleman and his family had their summer residence there. We returned to Parawan that evening and visited places of interest for a few days and then back to Minersville about the 22nd. Another celebration on the 27th which was Pioneer Day as the Mormons called it and a day or two later Brother and his wife took us 40 miles south to a place called Sulphur where his oldest daughter lived. Anna (Violet Ann) was her name and she lived part of her time here and part of it in Salt Lake City. About half way from Minersville to Sulphur on a gentle rise in what is known as Escolante Desert are about fifty hot springs led off by trenches to a reservior below for irrigating and watering of stock. The water was in a boiling state and I actually boiled my handkerchief in one of them. On the 2nd of August brother, his wife and daughter Hettie accompanied us to Milford where we bid good bye and took the night train to Provo. We stopped off and stayed a day or two with Elder Jones. I never saw a finer Apple orchard as I saw there. The ground was literally covered with apples and the trees were loaded with them. A cherry tree seemed to have bushels of cherries on it. A crowed gathered on the second night we were there and a welcome was extended to us. After our stay had ended we took the train for American Fork and stopped off and spent a few days with Elder J. W. Chipman. We took the train for West Jordan and spent a few days with Elder Bateman and his father's family. We were taken to places of interest, first to a Power House in Big Cottonwood Canyon where a mountain stream created a roar almost deafening. The power here runs the electric lights in the city about 20 miles away.

We also visited a copper smelter about ten miles south of the city. The strong odor from the smelting copper was almost stifling and is certainly very unhealthy. Elder Bateman's house is in sight of the city and although 12 miles away the street lamps can be seen and looks like so many stars. After four days at Elder Bateman's he carried us in his hack to the city to Bishop Maycock's as one of his sons, A. Maycock had enjoyed our hospitality in Miss. We attended a meeting of the Tabernacle and heard a fine choir accompanied by the grand organ and listened to a sermon on Agnosticism by Elder B. H. Roberts. He handled it in a masterly fashion. On the 14th we went to Farmington where we were met at the depot by conveyance to Elder Combs where we met several elders whom we had entertained and had a very agreeable time. I had thought it strange that these people are so little understood and vilified. It is true that there are among them who are not what they ought to be but where will we go and find everybody first class.

On the 16th we returned to the city and made preparations for starting our journey back home. Being destitute of funds to pay our way back to Miss. my brother gave me a check on the bank for 5 or 50) dollars as he feared the elders would not furnish the funds as they had promised. But I had little doubt on this score and true to their promise they bought tickets and furnished money for incidental expenses on the route. I had no need to use the check and I sent it back to him after we got home. But after we went back to the city from Farmington we were accompanied by President T. R. Condie who stuck close to us as a brother and was a leader in securing our tickets. We boarded the cars on the 17th of August on the U. P. Rairoad accompanied by five elders just starting out on a mission. They came with us as far as St. Louis, a little too late to get tickets on the M. O. Railroad and we had to stay in the depot or thereabouts until 8 o'clock P.M. The air was hot and stifling which made a very disagreeable day. The elders staid with us till we were on the train and saw us safely off. In due time we arrived at West Point, Miss and stayed overnight with Mrs. Joiner whom we had known when the Aberdeen branch of the I.C. Railroad was building. The next day we landed at Sturgis and Burkett and Green Trimm (William Green Quinn) were there with conveyance to bring us home. We were delighted to see them. This was the 22nd of August 1899, we had been gone two months and 14 days. The trip was pleasant but would have been more so if it had not been for the poor health of my wife. It is now, while I am writing this March 19, 1909.

During the ten years since our return we have been drifting along, enjoying a reasonable portion of health and so far as we know enjoy the respect of all who know us. Some of my students have become professional men, doctors, lawyers, preachers and teachers. Many of them are in the rank and file (and) have crossed over the great beyond. This sketch I now finish on the 19 of March 1909, in my 86th year and dedicate it to my children, grandchildren and all others who may read it.

Signed,

H. P. Dotson