May 16th, 1875, in the little town of Glenwood, Sevier County, Utah, was born to George Peter Pectol and Annian Conradina Peterson Pectol, a son weighing nearly three pounds. To further show how large he was, they put him in a quart cup and placed a lid on it. They must have taken the lid off because he lived. Then to test his strength, named him Ephraim Portman Pectol, but thereafter was called "Port" for short, which removed some of the weight. Since the above has grown up and I have become acquainted with him, the story will be told in my own words.

My early ambition was to get an education and to teach school which was partially realized, as I started to teach at the age of eighteen. The school year of 1892-3, I attended the B.Y.A. (now B.Y.U.) at Provo, Utah. The nine months schooling including board, rent and tuition, cost me the enormous sum of $98.15. this also included a $1.65 dress pattern for my mother. 1893-4 I attended the Snow College at Ephraim, Utah. My brother Fredrick C. Pectol, William Carrell, John W. Carrell, James Woolman and myself rented a room, boarding ourselves.

ANECDOTE: James Woolman would often fall asleep while studying. I found by touching a certain place on his wrist, he would answer my questions. By this we learned his courting secrets. He went through introduction to a girl for a dance, but when asked to dance, would only shake his legs in a brisk manner.

In the spring of 1879, my father moved to Grassvalley, north of the present town of Antimony. The place was named Clover Flat. (Now Angle). Nine years later, we moved to Caineville, Utah. I became the official cow herder for several years. While driving the cows past a farm house late one afternoon, I saw two girls turning somersaults on a straw shed. Riding over, I found their names to be Dorothy Delilah Hickman and Romania Carrell, ages about ten years. They were in the age class just younger than me, so gave them but little attention. Dorothy had come with her parents Deseret N. and Dorothy Ann Hickman on a visit. A few years later, they again returned. I met them on the Blue Dugway as they came into town. Dorothy was no longer a pug nose kid. She had grown up and been promoted to my class age. As I sat on my horse, looking into her eyes, I knew that some day she would be my wife.

June 21st 1899, we were married in the Manti Temple, by President McCallister. Six children resulted from this union: Florence, born July 11, 1900, Married Junius G. Covington; children, three girls, six boys, one dead; Leona, born May 27th 1903, married Claude M. Holt, children two girls, three boys; Elenor, born Oct 21st 1904, died age ten; Fontella, born March 15th 1906, married Loren Bean Webster, children one girl, three boys, two dead; Golda, born Sept 2nd 1912 married Stiner H. Busk, children three girls, two boys; Devona, born Aug 25th 1913, marred Maynard Hancock, children two boys, three girls; Ephraim, 7th child of family was adopted. His mother two boys, two girls. To add to the above, we have seven great grand children. Note: this had increased in number since this writing.

I was reared on a farm. If my father were alive, he could tell you that I never was afraid of work. I could lie right down by the side of it and go to sleep. For herding cows I received 3 cents per head a day. Some days I had 40 head. Pulling cows out of the quicksand was a daily occurrence. My pay was most always in produce of some sort, had corn, molasses, etc. One year I sold my summers wages for a range mare. She had a colt. Both disappeared.

I taught school in Grover, Caineville, Hanksville, Bicknell and Torrey between 1893 and 1912. I spent eighteen months in New Zeland where I went on a mission in 1907 to 1909. Was President of the Wairapareka District the last six months of my stay. I also taught school the most part of those eighteen months.

I was Wayne County School Superintendent two years, 1905-6, and County Water Commissioner 1904-06. Wayne County Commissioner 1911 to 1915 and again 1929 to 1933. Was elected to the State Legislature 1932 and held that position until 1940. Was ordained Bishop of the Torrey Ward, August 13, 1911, holding this position until August 1927. Also then no Bishop could be found, I was appointed Presiding Elder over the Ward and privileged to complete the Chapel I had so ardently begun before being released from Marvin O. Ashton, Dec. 13, 1940. Beautification was completed in 1941. Ward members generously assisted in its completion and beautification.

It has been my privilege to participate in most civic affaire of Wayne County. Was President of the "Booster's Club of Torrey, President of County Commercial Club 1928-31; was President of the Wayne Wonderland Association of Sevier, Sanpete and Wayne Counties 1925-26; president of Wayne County Independent Telephone Company for six years, and our Commercial Club's Delegate to the Civic Clubs of Southern Utah for many years. Was secretary-treasure of the Federal Land Bank Ass'n of Wayne County and later was appointed by Judge Tilman D. Johnson as Conciliator Commissioner for the Association. Was active to bring about the Capitol Reed National Monument, oiled roads and other improvements. Have contributed many articles to various publications, and written some poetry. My hobby is Archaeology and photography.

My home office is still in Torrey, where my wife and I owned and managed the Wayne Umpire Mercantile Business from 1910-43. I am still a member of the Wayne Stake High Council to which position I was placed after being released from the Bishopric. I am still the Utah Member of the National River and Harbors, Washington D.C.

My father, Ephraim Portman Pectol, answered to the name of "Bishop Pectol" to most everyone who knew him. I don't know how old I was before I became aware of the fact that "Bishop" was not his real name. He was a quiet, gentle, but firm person; an optimist with a love a concern for everyone he knew. We were privileged to be taught and guided by parents who from early youth were very active and devout members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. These teachings have been an influence upon our lives and we owe them a dept of gratitude for the spiritual as well as temporal ideals they instilled in our lives.

My father says that his first schooling was under the hand of his father who was a school teacher, the first school teacher in Glenwood, Utah. My fathers first school was a small log dwelling in Clover Flat, Grass Valley. Here many lasting "impressions" were made which shaped his future life. Seriously, he states that the teachings of his noble parents especially those ecclesiastically were impressed upon him. He adds that his life might have been different, for even in the lonely areas they lived, there were those who gave wrong impressions which later in life battle for supremacy.

Life in the remote area of Caineville, Wayne County, Utah was not easy and many hardships were encountered as well as many happy memories. When the Big Flood came in 1910 scattering the residents of this community, my parents settled temporarily in Grover, Utah, moving to Torrey that same year.

My grandparents, sensing the need for better schooling during the primary years of my fathers education, decided he should be given better opportunities so they let him spent two years in school at Glenwood. He lived with his grandparents, Jens K. and Helena Petermen.

My "Bishop" has been very modest in writing of the many accomplishments in his life. He was a contributor to poetry leaving many beautiful thoughts to his family and friends through this talent. Many articles have been published in various publications, the Era, The Messenger, and he was correspondent for the Deseret News for many years which gave him the opportunity to write of his "Wonderland". He loved and knew music, and saw to it that music was part of our lives.

One of the many interests in his life was a collection of Indian Relics which he displayed in the upstairs of his store in Torrey. This museum became very well known, and consisted of rare and valuable items of his own along with items which belonged to other people. Many days were spent traveling with the collection and lecturing to various groups of people. He was very knowledgeable on early Indian culture. Through these lectures several people became interested in the LDS Church and were baptized because of his special presentation.

To him this collection held a very special meaning and his family as well as many hundreds who heard him talk about it felt a closeness to our Heavenly Father, for to my father, they were a reminder of people many years ago who came to this American Continent from across the seas building a culture that was eventually destroyed and whose sacred records were revealed to Joseph Smith. He and Mother enjoyed many hours and days hunting Indian Relics and were thrilled with every discovery that was made. After his death some of the items were displayed in the LDS Church Museum on Temple Square. After mother's death, the Government put its claim on them and the collection was moved to Government quarters. Most of it is stored in the Visitors Center at Fruita, Utah, Capitol Reef National Park, some of it displayed there, but many items have been completely lost to our knowledge.

In addition to civic organizations he mentions, he was also a charter member of the Wayne County Lions Club. All of his civic activities were centered on promotion and progress for Wayne County and its development. He brought before the attention of tourists and beauties of Wayne Wonderland and it WAS through his efforts in the State Legislature that President Franklin D. Roosevelt proclaimed Capitol Reef a National Monument. He is known as the "Father of Wayne Wonderland".

His politics was Democrat, and while serving as a public servant for Wayne County he was very much aware of the needs of its people and he dedicated his time to the welfare of the county and its people whom he loved and respected. Retiring from business in 1944 he continued to spend his time on various promotional projects for Wayne County. One project very important to him was better roads to and from that area. Some were realized before his death while others have been made into beautiful highways.

My mother, Dorothy Delilah Hickman, was a daughter of Deseret Narrient Hickmen and Dorothy Ann Carrell, born in Bingham Canyon, Utah 31 March 1880. My father contributes much of his success to her his "noble wife" who was a dedicated help mate and home maker. Her wise council was lovingly appreciated and gave him strength and purpose in his endeavors. She was left with four little girls while he served his mission. Her's was not an easy roll to fulfill at this time. Little Elenor had a heart problem and was a constant care, but the faith she possessed saw her through this trying time. Her ingenuity saw her through many financial hardships, but there was always enough to take care of her little family and send money to her husband. She kept busy with her own affairs, helped those less fortunate, spearheaded holiday programs, taught MIA, Sunday School and Elementary school along with raising gardens, overseeing their small farm; she served as postmistress in her home and worked hard trying to keep those four little girls in white starched dressed. All this she did under pioneer conditions which was surely a test for her. It was a happy reunion when on Christmas Eve 1909 my Father returned Home from his mission and they spent a beautiful holiday as a family unit once again.

My parents worked together, played together and faced sorrows together. They fed and roomed people from Hanksville, Utah to New York and California. Sometimes I wondered "who was sleeping in my bed", but I didn't mind for it was exciting to meet and visit with the interesting people who came to our home. Our door was always open to strangers as well as friends, and many lasting and important friendships were made through these contacts. The Governors reception was not complete unless Mother was there with my Father and he was always so proud of her. She was a lovely woman. Many times my father would surprise her with unexpected house guests. She didn't complain for she loved to entertain, and was, somehow, always ready for my Father's generosity.

My father was loved, admired and respected by his family and friends. He was a man of vision, a leader and influence in the communities, county and State he lived in. If he had done nothing else in his years of service, his place in the history of Wayne County should be assured because of his foresight. I know he rests peacefully and content for many of his dreams have been fulfilled and his "Wonderland" had it's place among the rest of natures beauties. One can see his picture along with that of Joseph S. Hickman, his brother-in-law, in the Visitors Center, Capitol Reef National Park, Fruita, Utah. The State of Utah has benefited through his efforts.

The lives of my parents were a labor of love and devotion. They enjoyed every minute of it diligently and faithfully seeking ways to make a better world for their posterity and others who follow. My father has mentioned how and when he became acquainted with my Mother. Her history relates how their friendship grew and matured into marriage. In the spring of 1879 her brother William Hickman and his wife Ida left Milford to go to Caineville to care for his parents farm until they could come in the fall. My Mother went along because she knew there was someone special in Caineville who she wanted very much to see. On their way, they went through Glenwood where they met my Father, Port, as she called him, at the home of his grandparents James (Jens) K. and Helena Peterson. He had arrived there on his way to Richfield, Utah to enlist in the Spanish American War. He escorted these visitors to the mouth of Kings Meadow Canyon on their way to Wayne County, then returned to Glenwood.

The next entry pertaining to Glenwood was the third day on their way to Manti, Utah to be married. These young people stayed over night at the home of the Grandparents Peterson leaving the next morning for Manti. They were married 21 June 1899, and returned to Caineville, Utah.

In the fall of 1899 my parents returned to Glenwood where he worked for his Uncle Joseph Peterson who was married to Kista Hendricksen. Once again the home of the Grandparents was open, and they lived with them for awhile. My Mother said it was very hard for old and young to work things out together, so they moved into a little tow roomed house, and my father began working for the Singer Sewing Machine Company. The pay wasn't good so her brother Joseph Hickman came to live with them to help pay expenses. When they found out they were to become parents for the first time, my Mother's parents insisted they move back to Caineville to await the birth of their child.

With this move it seems the ties with Glenwood were becoming a little weaker. The Pectols had established themselves in other areas, the Grandparents were becoming older, and their families were moving to other areas. The death of Grandfather Peterson, and the move of his wife to Caineville with her daughter Annian, were all contributing factors to my father's life being completed in another area. However, these is a little brother and sister of my fathers buried in the old cemetery. In the new one are graves of Jens K. and Helena Peterson, my great grandparents. For all these reasons I get a longing to visit and be a part of such a progressive community.

Much of my pioneer heritage lies in the Community of Glenwood, Utah and I am proud to know that my pioneer ancestors had a part in its establishment and growth. The little house my father was born in still stands and is owned and lived in by Mr. and Mrs. Reed Balle. It is vine-covered and an addition has been made on it, but I am happy to take relatives and friends to see it for it is where Grandpa Pectol, my father, was born and "Uncle Port" lived.

My Father died October 8, 1947. At the time of his death he was writing a history of early Wayne County. Unfortunately it has never been published. It is in my possession, and hopefully, someday, I can put it together as a memorial to him. Dorothy, my Mother died August 3, 1951. Both are buried at Torrey, Utah.

Written and submitted

by Golda Pectol Busk, Daughter

September 1983

E.P. Pectol

A TESTIMONY

While laboring as missionary in New Zealand, a meeting was appointed at the home of a Sister Jensen, who had not had the use of her right arm for several years, not-with-standing the efforts of several physicians. Two new elders, Crouch and Ekinchsen, had just arrived. We left early Sunday morning on our bikes, visiting with the family until meeting time. The family and a few neighbors were present. We elders sat back of the table, Sister Jensen sat on the left near the table.

Preliminaries finished, the new elders were given a chance to speak. I then spoke on the power of healing. Reiterating the experiences of the prophet Joseph Smith and others. Sister Jensen sat as though she were asleep. Just as I closed my discourse, she raised from her rocking chair raising her affected arm above her head, and walking to her husband who was not a member of the church; exclaimed, "See what God has done for me today". He took her hand and kissed it and they both cried. We all cried. This was the first she had raised her hand from her side for three years. She washed dishes, she washed clothes, milked cows. And the arm was stronger than the other one.

ANNINA CONRADINA PETERSON PECTOL

Dear Grandma, this is to your memory. All pink and cuddly you came from heaven to live with your parents 17 July 1850 in Copenhagen, Denmark. What a joy your arrival must have been to them.

Through the message of the gospel of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints when you were only three years old, along with your parents you came to America and Zion, guarded by your heavenly father and preserved to fulfill your calling of mother and grandmother.

I am proud and happy that you met and married my grandfather even though you were only fourteen years old. Your marriage must have been foreordained. The wonderful family you reared through the ideals and principles you taught them all speak of this, along with the choice you made to have your family for all eternity. The kingdom of our Heavenly Father on this earth certainly has a vast number of faithful souls dedicated to His cause because of your unselfishness in bringing into this world thirteen children to love, nurture, cherish and guide. I know that some of your gentle spirit was born in my father, and I would be so happy if one of my daughter-in-laws could say of me that my mother says of you that: "You were one of the most wonderful women she has ever known and one of the best". Behind every good man there must be a good woman. You were!

Even at the age of three you remember crossing the water. Your memory was always keen and brilliant. Your was not a luxury liner passage, not even adequately protected from the elements, but a wooden "Sailing Boat" (or vessel for at that time they weren't all ships). According to your sister Caroline Amelia's history, it was an old "wooden sail boat" and she was six months old. It was early spring 1853, and very cold when your parents James Kanute Peterson, born 19 May 1815 in Nors, Thisted, Denmark and his wife Helena Kristena Hansen or Wine (in Danish records), born 25 Mar 1815, Fredericker Vejle, Denmark, who were married 10 Oct 1848, with three children, Hans Christian b. 30 July 1848 (marriage date and birth date of first child is not uncommon in Denmark), you Annina Conradina, b. 17 July 1850 and Carolina Amelia b. 22 Sept 1852, all in Copenhagen, sold everything they owned in Denmark except bare necessities and with the knowledge of the truthfulness of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, set sail for America.

I can just picture your busy little body and inquiring mind following in your mother's footsteps as she made preparations for this journey. Would she have to leave this precious keepsake, could she take this one or should she just close her eyes to all the things she held dear and pack as she had been advised. Shipping room was scarce as well as expensive. She knew this was no ordinary move and careful planning was necessary. As you said goodbye to your home and Beautiful Copenhagen, I picture the five of you hand in hand, in your quaint Danish dress and wooden shoes boarding your transportation from Copenhagen down to Liverpool, England where you were to set sail for America.

Carolina Amelia, as well as your half brother Alex, relate that the "crossing was hazardous taking two months on the ocean". She says she became very ill with measles to the point that the Captain believing her dead wanted to throw her overboard, but your mother would not let her baby be cast off until she knew there was no ray of life left in her little body. Her survival was a miracle. Yours must have been also, for measles along with the conditions you were exposed to on the boat could have been fatal to all of you. I thank Caroline Amelia for leaving this faith permoting story for us.

You landed on America soil at Florida to New Orleans where you transferred to a River Boat and on up the Mississippi. The next stop was at Omaha where your family joined the pioneer Saints with ox team and began the arduous track across the plains to the Salt Lake Valley. With buoyed determination your Father, by some means, got his little family to Lehi, Utah where he was assigned the first year. The next year a permanent residence was taken up in Ephraim, Sanpete County, Utah where your brother James Ephraim was born 16 Nov. 1855 and Joseph 14 March, 1859. On Feb. 13, 1864 your father took a second wife Emma or Ema Albertina Goud, in polygamy. Your half brothers and sisters were Erastus, Jens, Alexander (Uncle Alex you called him), Sopherona and Malvina.

Sometimes after the first of the year 1863 your parents moved to Glenwood, Sevier County, Utah. It was in this little town that George Peter Pectol helped survey, that your paths crossed beginning in romance and courtship which lead to your marriage 14 Sept. 1865 performed by an LDS Bishop at the home of your parents.

Indians in this area were making trouble for the settlers and George was a young man with responsibilities to both his wife and the Indian problems. He was called to action and you stayed with your parents the first few days. It was not until 18 Sept. 1865 that you celebrated your wedding feast then moved into the little adobe house which George had readied and began your married life together. Even though you were young, you were well prepared for the new role you had accepted. You were 14, he was 24 years of age.

Within the next year and a half your first child, George, was born at what was known as Willow Bend (Now Aurora, Utah) the night the Saints were driven from Glenwood by the Indians 15 April, 1867. What a time and place to give birth to only a wagon box for you to give birth on; but there was love and thanks in your hearts for the safe delivery of this son. These two qualities helped to carry you through all the hardships and sorrows you were to encounter. A quiet humility prevailed in this camp for you were so greatful to be away from the massacre that could have been your doom had you not evacuated when you did.

When the call came from Brigham Young to go to Washington, Utah, you bundled little George up and went to Dixie with Grandpa where your first little girl Sarah Christina was born 22 Jan 1869. When Sarah was just a few months old and hardly dry from birth, you were on the move again to Springdale, Kane County, Utah. (I used Kane, but Grandpa spelled it Cane). Twins were born to you here on 15 Oct. 1870, Franklin and Francis, who died at birth and were buried there. While this grief was fresh in your heart, the two little graves were left and you moved back to Glenwood where four more children were born: Frederic Christian, (Chris) 2 Dec. 1871; Lovina Lorteet, 17 April 1873 and died 24 Sept. 1874, buried in the old Glenwood cemetery; Ephraim Portman (Port) 16 May 1875 (my father); William Wallace, 31 Dec. 1877 who died 8 Oct. 1878 also buried at Glenwood.

You were pregnant with your fourth little girl when Grandpa decided, along with your brother Eph, to go to Clover Flat, Spring Creek, (now Angle, Utah) and take up some ground in the Indian invested area. By this time Glenwood was a good place to live. The Indians had been subdued, grandpa was working, teaching school, farming, brickmaking, and your work was much easier than you had in previous years. It was going to be hard for you to give all this up, but you did it! After living five years in the United Order in Glenwood, 1874-79, through illness, working hard to make ends meat, you left your parents who had always been a great support to your, and the two little graves in Glenwood, to obediently follow your husband into this desolate area to try again with homespun efforts to make another home to call your own.

There were encounters with the Indians here at Clover Flat, but none more serious than trying to supply them with food. I remember my father telling a story that one night grandpa had gone to Glenwood for supplies and his brother Will was with you (by this time he was a regular member of your family) and you were giving "little Port" a bath in the "number three wash tub" when a knock came on the door. Frightened, but calmly you opened the door and there stood several Indians. In your fright, you nearly drowned Port. All the Indians wanted was food which you gave them, meager as your larder was, and they went away.

Here Dorothy Amelia was born 18 Sept. 1879; Effie of Effa May 25 Aug. 1882; Joseph Archie 24 March 1884; Tilman Ray 25 Oct. 1887. Effa died 23 April 1884, and Tilman Ray died 25 Oct 1887.

In the spring of 1888 these two little graves were left here, abandoned I might say to the elements. Grandma, we tried to locate them, but the years have taken their toll and nothing is left to indicate where they were buried.

The Clover Flat venture was abandon upon the advice of Grandpas's sister and her husband, Dorothy Pectol and William Thomas Carrell; once again you picked up your skirts and climbed to the wagon bed with your six children, pregnant again, your household goods in the wagon, pulling old bossey, your cow behind with a rope and set out once again into virgin country over miles and miles of hot dusty roads into Eastern Wayne County settling in Caineville 19 May 1888. If you had not been so experienced in pioneering, you certainly could not have endured the many hardships you faced in rebuilding a new home for yourselves.

Not contemplating another move you earnestly began making your little one room' log cabin a comfortable home with what you had to work with. You filled your home with the aroma of good salt risen bread and fresh pork, cared for your children lovingly and went about your heavenly father's business teaching your children principles of faith, honesty, love, devotion and cleanliness. I believe you were happier here than you had been for years. You were again among family and friends who by this time had heard of this country of milk and honey, which it was, and a more beautiful one never existed.

On 5 April 1889 you thirteenth and last child, a boy Jesse LeRoy was born. He was as precious as your first. Seven years later tragedy struck your home and heart when Archie was accidentally shot to death while he and a cousin were playing with guns. This death was 16 Aug. 1896.

It is true that we are the "Captains of our soul" but not always "the master of our fate". In this quiet little village settled between peaceful mountains and the meandering "dirty Devil" river a spirit of love and harmony was always present. However, one day in 1909-10 the elements decided to change all of this which it did. Floods poured down the dirty devil changing its course and ravished this little town sending not only your family but everyone looking for another place to live. Again the wagon was loaded with your worldly goods and leaving your little home and a small grave just above flood water level with the name Archie engraved in the marker, at the age of 60 years you sought a new home in Teasdale, Wayne County, Utah.

Grandma, I just want to reminisce with you for a few moments this afternoon. Some of what I will write may be repetitious, but I need to partake of your calm, sweet spirit to finish this for your posterity with the hopes it will meet with your approval.

You were a frail little woman. Aesmatha contributed to poor health most of the time, but energetic and courageous to the point you seemed strong. In reading Grandpa's day book during the time of the Untied Order, he comments that many times when he came home he would find you so ill he was afraid you would not recover. The attributes of kindness, love, gentleness and patience, above all, were exemplified in your behavior, but not without knowing where discipline began.

Your life time of sickness was a handicap to you although you did help your neighbors and friends with their sewing. You were a Relief Society teacher, you worked long hours in the cording mill during the United Order in Glenwood. One time in Caineville you went out to help bind grain which had been cut by the first grain reaper to come into that valley. A man by the name of Harry Cullen challenged you to bind three bundles of grain without help, and he would cut your grain for nothing. You took up the challenge and not only bound three bundles without help, but you took your place along with the men in harvesting. The tables were turned..now it was your turn to laugh to Harry Cullum. Never idle were your hands. After the days work was done, there was always mending, sewing, long hours of washing and cording wool to make yarn and cloth for quilts for your family to keep them warm. You took pride in beautiful patch work quilts. Remember one time when you picked the ties out of one whole quilt that my mother and her sister did for you because it wasn't done good enough? You always said that if a thing was worth doing, it was worth doing well regardless of what it might be.

I remember as a child your home always seemed neat and clean and smelled good. I believe your daily chores were managed well. Even though you didn't have hardwood floors and beautiful carpeting, the boards you walked on in each room were scrubbed religiously and were clean. I do remember your one luxury in your "parlor", the bright tightly woven carpet which you were so proud of. I don't remember whether or not it was the one my mother and father gave you. . . , but that is beside the point. My mother told me she did give you a carpet and your first lace curtains.

Speaking of being fastidious. I understand that you were very embarrassed and upset then you could not get rid od some bed bugs you found in some of your belongings. Even tho everyone was plagued with this insect, and it was almost impossible to rid ones rooms of them, you were determined to do something about the one bothering you. With full determination you answered an ad from some paper on how to kill bedbugs. Not telling anyone for fear you would be chided and laughed at, you took a whole 25 cents from your needed cash and sent for the recipe. You were chagrined when you read " to kill a bedbug, step on it".

I am certain there were many times you felt like strangling grandpa, but the only one ever brought to my attention was the time Grandpa aggravated you to the point of leaving him. It was five o'clock that Saturday morning when you began to bake bread, scrub floors, mend his clothes and sox enough to last him for a long time, wasn't it? The day just didn't seem long enough to get it all done, but when it was you surveyed it and knew he would not suffer for awhile without you. Next you went to the corral, harnessed up "old Ging" hooked her up to your own little black topped buggy, and defiantly headed for Port and Dot's house. My mother said she would never forget how haughty but sweet you looked as you drove up to their gate and announce you had "left Pa".

I'll bet you were glad you had all your Saturday's work done and had some free days to visit with your children. As the day drew into evening you became restless, and as supper time came you began to worry whether or not he had enough food and if he knew where to find it. In the twilight of the evening grandpa missed you and seemed to know where to find you. I'll bet you couldn't have resisted the twinkle in his eyes no matter what, when he looked into your eyes and said: "Come on back home, Mother".

So the two of you side by side in your little buggy found shelter once again in your home sweet home. Whatever the disagreement, you both had the good sense not to let the night go bye without finding each other. Something we can all take a lesson from. (This is a Caineville story) Did you feel a little foolish? Did he?

You were never rich in worldly goods, but never in dire want. The homes I remember were comfortable and airy, not stuffy like some grandma's homes I see. You were conservative, but not stingy. No Never! A gallon of "coal oil" for your lamps would last you a year. Effie says she used to go over to your house every day and you had either a fresh piece of Salt Risen Bread and butter or a cookie which you rolled out by hand for her or any of your grand children who came to visit you. I remember the bread and those good fried potatoes you used to make for Grandpa every morning for his breakfast. I did stay at your house a few nights. Leona says she used to go to Teasdale and help you wash your clothes almost every week. You were happy when any of your grandchildren were around. When you would send your eggs to the store to purchase a few groceries you would always leave an extra egg or two for any of the children who took them for you. That was wonderful, for candy was a real treat in those days and your extra little gift helped to make your grandchild happy. (My grand children take empty soda pop bottles to Gilbert Anderson's store for their treat. I doubt it is as much fun as an egg would be).

Your asthma was so bad it was hard for you to keep the fire going in your old fashioned fire place, so you always kept your bellows next to the hearth. I remember vividly your getting on your knees and pumping those bellows in order to fan the fire into flame when it got low. The older grandchildren remember you setting in your arm chair smoking an old corn cob pipe which was medicated to relieve your asthma, and when relief came through this medication you would gently sink into relaxed slumber. How you must have suffered. Today we have many wonderful drugs and specialists who know the answer to this malady.

I should have thought about this when talking about my mother. While dad, Port, was on this mission she had four children to support and care for. She often said how greatful she was to you and Grandpa. Without your help she didn't know what she would have done. You were such a comfort to her.

I am really rambling, but as I think of these things I must talk to you about them. Although you had little or no schooling, you read fluently, having taught yourself. Grandpa was the first school teacher in Glenwood and with this background you along with him encouraged your children to obtain an education. Port and Chris went to school at Snow College in Ephraim and the Brigham Young University. Such was your desires for your children's future. Both became school teachers.

Your family was your life and you took good care of them physically and spiritually. In your later years your health was so poorly that it was impossible for you to carry on your church duties, but always had things in readiness for Grandpa and the children. I never remember Grandpa wearing anything but light shirts, pants and suspenders . . .NEVER OVERALLS! You didn't have a washing machine either. Made your own soap always. In those days until your son Chris put running water in your house, water was always carried from a ditch or the outside tap. My arms ache when I think of how many buckets, yes even tubs, of water you might have carried into your house to drink and to keep things fresh and clean.

One other thing I would like to talk about it the old clock which always kept perfect time and is still ticking in Uncle Chris's house. That clock stands out in the minds of all your grand children.

The last time, and the most vivid time, I remember you, Grandma, was one evening almost sundown when you and Grandpa climbed into your wagon to go home to Teasdale after visiting at our house in Torrey. How stately you held yourself setting on that old hard wagon seat smiling and waving goodbye to us. Mother told me that you were so sick you could hardly hold your head up. That was the last visit you made to our home for your sickness confined you to your home until 3 Dec. 1918 when you passed away.

Grandma, we know you weren't perfect, but sometimes halos come and go and only those who we love very much wear them much of the time. I wish I knew more about your young life as a child and as a bride. You certainly were an understanding person with all the qualities our Heavenly Father could put into one person near to perfection. You took you lot as it came whether you liked it or not, you did not grumble much, did you? If you did you met each new day with a song and courage that every pioneer mother knew she had to posses. I admire Grandpa for respecting your wish never to live in polygamy, but I am sure had he asked it, you would have lived that law with all the courage and fortitude you possessed, and in the same way you did everything else.

The last years of your life were spent in the same manner as previous ones bringing warmth and love to all your family. Your life's story will not be printed in magazines as an example of "mother of the year", but your life holds a special meaning to all of your family for it was you along with your husband who held fast to the church and through all trials and troubles acknowledged the Lord always. You taught your children to love and obey their Heavenly Father, to honor their earthly Mother and Father, all of which had a lasting influence on all our lives.

I must not overlook a very important impression I have of you. My mind's eyes picture you as a petite woman very conscious of your dress and particular about its looks. Your hair, although always pulled back severely with a tight bob in the back was neat and clean. It seemed you always had that fresh clean scrubbed look on your face which made it shine through the somewhat stern impressions you wore at times. These were soon changed because of your humor. Effie says there were many times she would laugh with you when you talked Danish and you would sing a little ditty in Danish to top off those precious moments. How I envy some of those times with you.

As I look at your picture, I wouldn't change anything about you looks, only put a smile on your face, but in your day it seems people didn't smile when they had their picture taken. I am thankful I have one of you.

A poet once said "It takes heap of Livin' in a house to make a home". Your house was LIVED IN. Your home was blessed because you were counted among the blessed. This, Grandma, is why each Memorial Day I visit you, Grandpa and Uncle Will's graves in Teasdale to show my appreciation to you for the Father you gave me, the sacrifices and hardships you went through, and the heritage you have given me. I am proud to be your granddaughter and I hope wherever you are, you will know that the little wreath I put on your grave is with love and a wish that I had know you better, and had been able to five you a few flowers while you were still with us. I am glad I talked to my mother before she died so that I could add her impressions and thoughts and some details I have written to you about today. She loved you so.

I know someday we will see each other and get better acquainted. I pray that I may live the kind of life that will permit me to do so.

Lovingly your Granddaughter

Golda

This has been compiled from family genealogy sheets, excerpts from a letter to me from Alex Peterson, written from memory as told him by his father, a copy of Caroline's story as told to her granddaughter Elzine Herring Smith, information gathered from members of my immediate family, my cousin Effie Pectol Gibbson and visits with my mother Dorothy Hickman Pectol, along with some research on Denmark, immigration records and Scandinavian vital records.