George Le Roy Lufkin

29 Jul 1899 - 3 Oct 1950

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George Le Roy Lufkin

29 Jul 1899 - 3 Oct 1950
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Grave site information of George Le Roy Lufkin (29 Jul 1899 - 3 Oct 1950) at Annis Little Butte Cemetery in Rigby, Jefferson, Idaho, United States from BillionGraves

Life Information

George Le Roy Lufkin

Married: 20 Jan 1927

Annis Little Butte Cemetery

3810 East Menan Lorenzo Highway
Rigby, Jefferson, Idaho
United States

Headstone Description

Alba Jean, John Cordell, George Thomas

Robert Mortimer

October 4, 2011


October 4, 2011

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Norma Lufkin Life Sketch as told at her funeral

Contributor: Robert Mortimer Created: 2 years ago Updated: 2 years ago

When you went to visit Norma her usual greeting was with a smile, a hug, or she would grab your hand and say, "Well, hello, I'm so glad to see you or I'm so glad you're here". I'm sure she is saying that today. She was a loving Wife, Mother, Grandmother, Great-Grandmother, Great-Great-Grandmother, Aunt and friend. She lived a long and productive 91 years. Her life began on 15 March, 1911 in a log cabin which was built by her Dad, it sat on the family's homestead in Annis, Idaho. Her father was George Townsend Lufkin and her mother was Alice Ann Heaps. She was of English, Scottish, and Irish descent. She was the 8th of 10 children. They were Verna May, George LeRoy, LaVar, John Henry, Thomas Eugene, Grace, Maxine, Ryland and Ellwood. LaVar and John Henry died at young ages. She loved her family and looked up to them. The family owned large acres of land and it was required that all the children help with the farm work starting at the age of six. She spent many hours working in the fields thinning beets, pulling weeds, cutting potato sets, herding cattle, feeding and milking cows, gathering eggs and helping can food produced from the garden and fruit trees. Norma and her sister, Maxine, helped their mother every week polish the silverware, clean the house being given specific rooms to clean so they wouldn't fight. Their mother demanded good work. She attended school in Annis, Idaho and loved school. She graduated from Rigby High School. Their entertainment as kids was playing hop scotch, ring around the rosy, jump rope, ante I over, softball, baseball, swimming in the canal, ice skating on the slough, riding a schooner down the Little Butte and riding horses. The family had a special horse named Flax. One day Norma and her brother, Ryland, had to deliver a double boiler their mother had borrowed from Aunt Verna who lived down the street on the corner. Norma got on the front and Ryland on the back of Old Flax. Norma had the morning milk in a bucket and Ryland had the boiler. Flax didn't want to go and was balking, so she was kicking him and trying to get him to move. About that time Ryland whacked him on the rear end with the boiler and he crouched down and jumped right out from under them. Instantly they were sitting on the ground, milk spilled and Norma was furious. Ryland said she swore a streak, can you blame her? Some of the highlights of her life were living with her friends during her High School years in Rigby; dancing, which her Dad, George Townsend Lufkin, taught her to do; singing, especially with her Dad; traveling with the Relief Society Singing Mothers to Salt Lake to sing in the Tabernacle on Temple Square for the Relief Society General Conference; visiting her children and grandchildren and going to hear her niece, Madelon, sing at different functions. Her favorite time of year was Fall and she loved to go on a drive with her husband, Samuel LaMar Burke, to see the colors in the mountains. Her first job was in June 1930 working at the Associated Seed Company in Rigby for a year or so. In July 1931 she worked for Mountain States Telephone and Telegraph Company in Rigby as a switchboard operator. She became chief operator working full time from 1935 to 1939 and was fortunate to have this job during the great depression when a lot of people didn't have jobs. While working at the telephone office she met Samuel LaMar Burke, who was a friend of her roommates. Wow! Was he handsome. They started dating and were married on 2 November, 1939 in Iona, Idaho. They went to dances at the Wandemere in Idaho Falls and Riverside Gardens/ She loved the Big Band music. It was after a dance at Riverside that Samuel LaMar proposed to her. They were later married in the Salt Lake Temple on 10 June, 1940. They lived in Iona and Idaho Falls for the next 11 years having four boys during that time, Morris, Marlin Lamar, Gordon Lufkin and Steven Rodney. It was during the war so food was rationed. Norma worked on and off for the telephone company during that time. In April 1950 after her Dad died, they moved from Iona to Annis, on to the family homestead and lived in her parents home on 40 acres of land and it was exactly two years later that they had a daughter, Ava LaRue. In 1957 she worked part-time as a switchboard operator for Phillips Petroleum, which was a division of the Atomic Energy. She worked in the Communications Section at the National Reactor Station at the A.E.C. site 50 miles west of Idaho Falls. After three months there she transferred to the A.E.C. Headquarters in Idaho Falls and worked there part time as an operator for six years. She worked with a special friend, Vesta Pratt. They shared many good times and experiences. In July 1939 before she and Samuel LaMar got married he took her to Alberta, Canada to the Cardston Temple to get her Patriarchal Blessing by the same gentleman who had given Samuel LaMar his. What an experience that was for her and Samuel LaMar. George Townsend Lufkin and some of their friends went with them. She served as a teacher in the M.I.A. and also a Guide teacher in the Primary in Iona in the 1940's. In the Annis Ward she taught the Literature class in the Relief Society for four years. She served as Relief Society Secretary for six years and as Second Counselor in the Relief Society. She and Samuel and LaMar served as Secretaries in the Junior Sunday School for four years. They then served six years in the Spanish Extraction Program as missionaries. They served many hours and made some wonderful friend. She served as a Visiting Teacher for 46 years. She quite often would go golfing with Samuel LaMar and would drive the cart. On one occasion they were golfing with Dick and LaRue Dennis, and she accidentally drove the cart up on to the t box. Samuel LaMar never let her live that down. Norma loved her family and always worried about what to fix to eat when they came home to visit. Although she hated to cook, she was a wonderful cook. She made lots of casseroles, cakes, cookies and pies. Favorites for lots of people was her mahogany cake with caramel frosting, ride pudding, homemade chicken and noodles and oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. No one could make her mahogany cake and rice pudding like Norma could. About a month before Norma passed, several of us were visiting her and we asked about how to make the rice pudding. Norma told us the ingredients and we asked her how long to cook it and she said, 'just cook it until it's done". Basketball was her favorite sport and she loved to go to the games at school and watch it on television. She knew who a lot of the players were. Her favorite was Larry Bird. She followed the Utah Jazz and local high school games when relatives were playing. She kept up on the news, world events and politics and enjoyed reading until her eyesight got bad. She lost her hearing years ago and that was hard on her and she always felt she missed out on a lot of things, which she did. In spite of these impairments she had a good attitude and dealt with it admirably. When her children were young, she would take the milk check they received from selling milk and buy Caramel's from Kraft through the milk company for Christmas. What a treat. We all had our turns sitting on the back of the couch pulling her gray hairs. She loved to be pampered. LaRue would go see her and she would say, "Isn't there anything to pick?" She enjoyed having her nails painted and her hair curled. Her favorite colors were pink and green. Her favorite movie star was Elizabeth Taylor. When asked what her favorite food was, her response was, "It would be easier for me to answer the foods I don't like", but her favorite was ham. Her favorite flower was Sweet Pea,, favorite song was "Let Me Call You Sweetheart". She took pride in her appearance and always tried to look nice where ever she went. She had a devoted family and her three Daughters-In-Law were especially good to her and took great care of her. Steve went above and beyond his duties as a son. Everyone who met or took care of Norma the past two years loved her. She was pleasant and easy to deal with. She was always giving the nursing staff and aids approval for what they did for her. She never complained. Once while Norma was raising her children, she was trying to hurry and mop the kitchen floor before the Relief Society Visiting Teachers came. Well, she kicked the bucket of water over and then fell down in it in her dress and apron. Steve and LaRue were just kids and were laughing . About that time a knock came on the front door and when they opened the door there was the Visiting Teachers. They came in and greeted Norma laying on the floor in hysterics. Norma had a wonderful sense of humor and could tell stories and jokes with the best of them. When she laughed she lit up the room. She never lost her sense of humor. She loved to visit with people. She loved her friends and kept in contact with them up until they passed away and there are not many still living. Norma was someone to confide in, a good listener, she was not a gossip and disliked catty people. She was strong and a very private person and never showed her emotions. Some of her words of wisdom included: Don't be judgmental, think before you speak, many hands make light work, and you get out of life just what you put into it. Memorial Day was always a special and important day to her. We had to make sure the graves of our loved ones were decorated. Norma would say we needed to put one on that grave over there because there is nothing on it. We have tried to continue that tradition for Mother these last few years and will do our best to continue. I would like to relate some comments written to Norma by various people a few years ago: Nola Stiles recalls her memories: "It was a cold winter evening with the snow piled high glittering with the reflected moonlight and the lights in your windows were beaming "Welcome, Welcome!" Another was a hot summer afternoon, no wind, your windows were open to the shade of all your trees which always seemed to say, "Come and share". You and I deciding not to go to the rodeo with the men and instead thumbing through your cookbooks. Did you ever figure out how much 5 cents worth of macaroni was worth?" Zelma Hall recalls: "Even though you probably knew all the tings we tried to introduce in homemaking meeting, you were one of the true faithful who always came and then never failed to say how good it was-in fact congratulating other people is a virtue of yours." Pam Rose Saunders wrote: "I remember your home as one where there was always delicious food and a lot of it! The berries and cream were a delicacy we didn't get at anybody else's house. Meals just seemed to appear without effort and all were welcome to what was on your table. Room to run and nights filled with laughter for us kids at your house." June Price White shares: "Oh, the joy of a Sunday afternoon visit with Aunt Norma frequently apologizing for her goodies which she claimed were just not up to par with either too much or too little flour or the oven was too hot or cold!" Her son Gordon, wrote her a letter which aptly describes the feelings of all of her children. "I think the most fitting compliment I could give you is to tell you "You've been a good mother!" and I love and admire you and thank you for all you've done and said." Our lives are made up of memories, both good and bad, but when my memories of you come flooding in, I can't remember a bad one. You helped teach me some good traits, like how to work and to enjoy reading and learning. You also gave me some advise about choosing good friends and being careful about who you confide in. You said many friends were temporary but that you always have your family. You told me it takes a lifetime to build a reputation, but only moments to shatter it. You worked hard at home and out of the home to help us have clothes, food and spending money. You are unselfish and always thinking of our needs before your own." Mom chased us all with a broom but Gordon said he was blessed with two fast feet and because of it was spared some unpleasant memories". I am not sure if the rest of us faired so well. Due to failing health she was required to move to Utah in April 1998. She will be remembered for her dazzling smile, sense of humor, her devotion to her family and friends, her dedication to the gospel, her wonderful meals, family reunions, her generosity and compassion. Norma leaves a legacy of 5 children, 16 grandchildren, 30 great grandchildren, 3 great great grandchildren, two step grandchildren, and 5 step great grandchildren. Written and given by Ava LaRue Burke Dennis (Daughter) Monday, August 23, 2004

Short History of John Townsend Lufkin and Hannah Sabina Barron

Contributor: Robert Mortimer Created: 2 years ago Updated: 2 years ago

John Townsend was born 21 January, 1853 in Salt Lake City, Utah shortly after his mother, Martha Ann Townsend, had come across the plains from Missouri with her parents in a company of Mormon pioneers the previous summer of 1852. Martha Ann had married Henry Robinson in Missouri in 1852 to please her parents, but after only six weeks they divorced because he was cruel. John T. met his father when he was five years old at the Lion House (Brigham Young's House) in Salt Lake City where he was being kept so his father couldn't take him. He stopped there briefly to say goodbye and took him on his knee and cried, kissed him, and left. John T. really didn't know who he was and that was the last time he ever saw him. Not much is known about Henry Robinson. He played the violin and was caught up in the movement west from Missouri. He had his second wife, Medora Williamson, with him when he visited John T. and they left Salt Lake that day in a covered wagon for California. She died on the way when she gave birth to twins but one of them died. He made a coffin for them out of his wagon box and took the other baby, a girl and rode horseback to California. Supposedly Susan Biff was that baby and she was located in Grass Valley, California years later but had already passed away. Her husband was Postmaster there. John T. never knew her but he did know of her. Henry Robinson was married and sealed to Medora in the Endowment House on 15 February 1858. Martha Ann met George Washington Lufkin in Salt Lake City and they were married when John T. was six months old. John T. went through his childhood not knowing that George Washington was not his real father. They didn't get along very well. George was a carpenter by trade and involved in the Church and was sent on a mission by Brigham Young to help organize and settle the small settlements around Southern Utah (St. George area). John T. was baptized in 1862 in Salt Lake City or St. George. The family left Salt Lake City in 1862 and lived all over Southern Utah until 1870. In 1864, at the age of 11, John T. had carried water on his saddle pony to the men who were holding back the Indians from the different small settlements around the St. George area and this was during the time of the Black Hawk War. In 1870, they were requested by the Church to move to Panaca, Utah that later became Nevada in 1875. In 1872 the family moved back to St. George with John T. age 19, remaining in Panaca and continuing work the next five years in the lead and silver mines hauling ore from Pioche to Boullionville using George's wagons and large work mules. He met Hannah Sabina Barron, born on 30 March, 1857 in Fort Herriman, Salt Lake, Utah, the fifth child of Alexander Franklin Barron and Mary miller in Panaca and they, along with others, traveled to Salt Lake City, where they were married and sealed in the Endowment House on 27 October, 1873. He was 20 and a 1/2 and she was 16 and 1/2 years old. Hannah was baptized 8 June, 1864 in Salt Lake City, Utah. Hannah's parents had arrived in Salt Lake City from Texas in September 1854 with a company of Mormon converts. John T. and Hannah remained in Panaca during which time they had two sons, John Franklin born 20 December, 1874 and George Townsend, born 2 June, 1876. John T. continued hauling ore until 1877 and then a severe drop in the price of silver forced most of the miners to close. They moved back to Washington, Utah. (Southern Utah- St. George area) in the spring of 1877 to be close to the cotton mill and Hannah's parents accompanied them. John T was involved in the cattle ranching business with Hannah's family until things went sour. John T., along with his brother-in-law, Virgil Kelly, then worked together at the cotton gin or one of the small mines or hauling freight. They traveled long distances hauling whatever needed to be hauled. John T. was away from his family sometimes for long periods. By this time he had two daughters born in Washington, Susie May, born 28 July, 1878 and Dora Hannah, born 1 January, 1881. In the spring of 1883, he decided to move to Salt Lake and rented a ranch called "Over Jordan" (North Point) about seven miles west of Salt Lake City. He had horses and 30 head of cattle he had brought with him. They had another son, Henry LeRoy born 1 September, 1883. It was a poor ranch and after two years and having a lawsuit with a man over some work, John T. decided to move to Arizona where he had delivered freight. Hannah's father had died in 1885 and so he left the family with Hannah's mother in Washington Utah while he went to Mesa, Arizona. He remained there the summer and fall of 1886. He returned home and hauled freight with his brother-in-law, Virg Kelly to Yuma, Arizona through the winter of 1886. Returned home the spring of 1887 and worked in the cotton gin. On 28 November, 1886 they lost their son LeRoy at the age of three to membranous croup. John T. got typhoid fever and nearly died and was sick a long time but as the weather got cooler he improved. Most of the family, especially Hannah, had attacks of swamp fever (Malaria) and she was down a lot. John T. decided to move to Yuma, Arizona but an old friend convinced him that Escalante was the place to live. In May 1887 they left Washington and John left the family in Panguitch, Utah at Aunt Lizzie Proctor's and he went on to Escalante, Utah. This changed the course of our family destiny ad history. Things would have been different if he had chosen Arizona. They knew a lot of the people there from their earlier days in Pioche, Panaca and the St. George area. The first night they camped in the yard of Thomas Heaps. They built a log home from logs from Pine Valley and lived there until the spring of 1903. While there they had three more children; Lillian Mary born 21 September, 1887, Martha Amanda born 14 February, 1890, and Marion Aquilla born 21 April, 1892. They ha a granary or store house behind the house where some of the fellows who were going through town would often stay. Martha told about Butch Cassidy (a famous rustler) staying there one night. She remembers him holding her on his knee and a beautiful saddle that he had with him. He was gone when she awoke the next morning. John T. farmed and raised winter feed for his cattle and horses and in the spring of 1888 he had plowed and planted 40 acres with wheat, corn and oats. He rode the cattle range with his friend Antone Ivins. His two oldest boys, George and Frank, got jobs herding sheep and riding after cattle on the range to help with expenses. John T. served as Water Master of Escalante. John T. was never legally adopted by George Washington Lufkin but in November 1890, when he was 37 years old, he finally decided to be sealed to his mother and step-father, so he made a special trip to Logan, Utah where they were living. He only did it so he could be sealed to his mother and he only assumed the Lufkin name. His mother had told him his father's name, and birthplace and he often said that $20 gold piece separated his parents. He was quite hurt that his mother had never told him and had gone to see Brigham Young to get his advice and he told him, "Now, do you want to give up your mother?" So, John T. was sealed to them. Because he was never adopted, George Washington Lufkin didn't leave him anything from his estate when he died in 1922 and John was quite hurt by it. His mother, Martha Ann, had passed away in 1912. Frank and George T. were both married and had families of their own when they decided in 1902 to move to Idaho. John T. and Hannah sold out in the summer of 1903 and decided to follow them to Idaho. Hannah was very ill when they left and after a long hard trip in a covered wagon to Manti, Utah, they loaded their belongings on the freight train. Hannah, Lillian, and Martha followed in the passenger train. They finally arrived in Menan where Frank and George T. were living. George had rented a farm from Rube Scott but then decided he and his dad would buy the old "Bacon Farm" in Annis which was owned by Ike and John Fisher. On 3 December, 1903, they drove to Idaho Falls in a white top buggy with the Fisher's to finalize the deal. George T. had a son, Thomas Eugene born on that same day in Menan, so it was a big day for all of them. It was 80 acres so they both got 40 acres and John T.'s acreage had a two room log house on it which they lived in. About 1901, while they were living in Escalante, Hannah had suffered an injury from a fall from a kitchen chair while reaching into a cupboard that left her permanently impaired and subject to seizures. She never fully recovered and required constant care and attention. She couldn't be left alone but could do her housework and this was a serious handicap for John in whatever he did. He herded sheep near Spencer for a while. In 1905, the Utah-Idaho Sugar Co. built a factory at Sugar City, four miles north of Rexburg. John was among the first applicants for work at the factory off and on for the next 31 years he never missed a sugar run. He managed the west factory hotel, and also the barns and cattle feeding operations for the sugar company. His daughter, Martha, and her husband, Jesse Riley, helped care for Hannah both at home and the hotel. Their daughter, Dora and her husband, Arthur Young, and five children lived with Hannah while the children were in school in Annis. John would ride the passenger train to Lorenzo on weekends to spend time at home and Sunday nights would ride back to Sugar City to work. Quite often his grandsons, Roy and Gene would take him in the buggy or sleigh to meet the train and he would give them a nickel or two to buy candy, which was really a treat at that time. In his later years his main job was keeping the feeder ditch clean that carried the necessary water through a ditch from the Teton River, about one mile or so northeast of the factory. He was a very responsible type person and highly appreciated by the company, partly for his dependability and honesty. He bought the Lewis farm in Annis and had a frame house built there and rented it to a Mr. Hopper, who had been hired to be the principal of the Annis School. Later, Quill, (Marion Aquilla), the youngest son, and his wife, Maggie, lived there. Hannah at age 66, died on 5 June, 1923, in Blackfoot, Bingham, Idaho at the mental hospital and was buried in Annis, Jefferson, Idaho in the Little Butte Cemetery. John T. spent time with his children in Annis and Rigby, Idaho and California. He was interested in people and liked to visit. He spent his winters in Glendale, California at his daughters home, Lillie and her husband Jim Canady. His granddaughter, Norma, daughter of George T., said the following about her grandfather. "Upon his return to Annis in the spring, he would always go to church and the Bishop would have him get up and tell about his experiences meeting people at the bus depot in California, which was in the lobby of the Roslin Hotel where they lived. I was so proud of him and was quite close to him. He became a good listener and learned to carry on a good conversation. He was fun to be around and liked to have a good time. He was witty and had a good sense of humor. He liked to sit and reminisce about the good years he spent with Grandma Hanner as he called her. I can just hear him say, "Sez I to Hanner." In recounting a conversation he had with someone, he would say, "Sez I to...." It would start out as sez I and then become shortened to "si". She had been his only sweetheart and he told how he loved her. My mother, Alice Ann, said that after Hannah's health failed, he waited on her hand and foot and didn't seem to feel she was a burden. It was quite a task for Mother to prepare three good meals a day on a cook stove and when Grandpa was staying with us he would help any way he could and would try to keep wood on hand for the cook stove and keep the reservoir in the stove filled with water, which was carried from a hand pump outside. Dishwater had to be heated on top of the stove, and I can just see him scurrying around, helping with the dishes. He had a big white apron he would tie in front of him. Grandpa told me that one time his step-father, George Washington Lufkin, beat him so bad that his shirt was embedded inside the wounds on his back and his mother almost divorced him over it." He was quite a stern man and quite a disciplinarian. When he was 84 years old he was walking through a field from George's house, to his youngest son, Quill's house in Annis and climbed through a rusty barbed wire fence and scratched the back of his hand. Infection set in, and nothing they were able to do could stop it. According to Norma, "Dr. Cully finally told him his only choice was to have his arm amputated. This he chose not to do, as he felt he had lived a a long and fairly good life with not much time left on this earth and that when he did go, he wanted to be all together." He died a few days later, 24 August, 1937, at the age of 84 of blood poisoning and was buried in the Little Butte Cemetery at Annis, Jefferson, Idaho next to Hannah. He was not a large man, being about 5'9" tall, and weighing about 160 lbs., but he was very ambitious by nature and always managed to provide for his family. He was a very distinguished looking man with dark brown eyes and hair. He was a devout church worker, loyal Democrat, and loved to argue politics. He was a self-educated man who sought out and enjoyed good company. He gained a good vocabulary and expressed himself well. He never drove a car. He was patient, kind, and even tempered - loved and respected by everyone who knew him. They had eigth children and left quite a posterity. (This history was compiled from an original history written by his son, Thomas Eugene Lufkin) *Originally typed up by Ava LaRue Burke Dennis in August 2000 for the book "Thru the Years With Six Generations of Family Lufkin/Townsend/Heaps a History 1795-1953" *Re-Typed up and put on to Family Search on 18 April, 2014 by her niece, Ronda Kay Burke Mills for all to enjoy.

The Life Story of George Townsend Lufkin by T. Eugene Lufkin, A Son

Contributor: Robert Mortimer Created: 2 years ago Updated: 2 years ago

His Father was John Townsend Lufkin, who was born in Salt Lake City, Utah, on January 21, 1853. His Mother was Hannah Barron Lufkin, who was born at For Harriman, Utah, on March 30, 1857. In the latter part of January 1947, I, along with my wife, visited with my Father, George T. at his home in an endeavor to get from him his life story and more particularly of his early life. My wife and I took turns writing and we put it down exactly as he told it. We have refrained from making any changes in the writing, and hereby request that others do the same - except - perhaps in punctuation or spelling. -----------The Story As Told----------- I was born in Panaca, Nevada, June 2, 1876. When I was about a year old, my folks moved to Washington, Utah. While at Panaca, my fathers work was hauling ore from Pioche to Boullionville, Nevada. While at Washington, they acquired a large ranch known as the Shivwitz Ranch just over the line in Arizona or about eighty miles south of Washington. We lived sometimes at the ranch and sometimes at Washington until I was about eight years old. This ranch was later purchased by Preston Nutter who did a lot of development work on it. When I was eight years old, my grandfather induced my father to sell out at Washington and move to Salt Lake and operate a ranch seven miles west of Salt Lake or as we called it, "over Jordan". We operated this ranch for two years then following a lawsuit Father had with a man over some work, he became discouraged and moved us back to Washington. When he moved from Washington to Salt Lake, Uncle George drove a band of about 30 horses belonging to father to the ranch at "over Jordan". When he moved back to Washington, Uncle Owen Barron with my help drove this same band of horses back, which was quite a job. On arriving in Washington, father left his family with Grandmother Barron who had bought father's home two years earlier. We moved right in with her, Grandfather Barron having died while we were in Salt Lake. We were really headed for Arizona but Grandmother prevailed on father to leave the family with her. When we moved from Washington to Salt Lake, there were four children in our family; Frank, myself (John T.), Susie and Dora. Not long after we had moved, a boy was born and he was given the name of Roy. I remember that a woman by the name of Mrs. Farr took care of mother in her confinement. After we returned to Washington and some time after our burn-out, we moved to another house. Roy was not a very robust boy but at this time he seemed to be in good health. Just before we went to bed one night, Roy was playing marbles with me on the floor before the fireplace. Sometime during the night he took Membranous Croup and the next morning Father told us that he had died during the night. We were badly busted up over this because of it being so sudden and he was more or less the pride of the family because of his age and his frailty which required a little extra attention. Father took a team and wagon and went on to Arizona alone where he worked in the barley fields, etc. at Phoenix and Mesa. I think he went by way of Lee's Ferry. He used to talk about Mose Emmett, the operator of the ferry, an old acquaintance of his. I can remember when father returned from Arizona. He was driving old Rat and Bill. We had been watching the road for him for 4 or 5 days. Father was a good teamster and we could tell his outfit as far as we could see him. While Father was in Arizona, Grandmother Barron's house burned to the ground on the 24th of July. It burned all of our clothes and everything we had, but people around helped us out and we got along all right. It was sometime after Father heard of the fire that he came home. I was ten years old at the time. Father hadn't found any place in Arizona that he cared to move to at the time. After we had things straightened out and were settled again, Father and Uncle Verge Kelly made another trip to Arizona where they did some freighting that winter. It was at this time that he was probably around Needles and Yuma, as he talked about it a lot afterwards. Also Snowflake. When he came home the first time, he had a load of cured pork which he sold at a good price. Father came back in the spring from the second trip when I was 11 years old. He was still undecided what to do, so he took a job in the cotton mill. While there, he contracted typhoid fever and nearly died. While he was sick, Dr. Ivans of St. George, the father of Antone R. Ivans, walked from St. George to Washington, a distance of four miles to doctor him. He stayed all night and then walked back to St. George. He charged Father $2.50 for all this. He was sick a long time and as the weather got cooler he began to feel better. While he was laying in bed convalescing, a man by the name of Martin Foy who was a peddler by trade, came from Panguitch with a load of trout caught out of Panguitch Lake. He stayed with us overnight and endeavored to get father to move out to Panguitch where the higher altitude might be better for his health. Not long after this visit, another man by the name of Lacey Laramie, came from Escalante and stayed with us. He was an old acquaintance from our days in Panaca. He painted a nice picture to father of Escalante, of its good climate and fine sheep and cattle possibilities. Father had become converted by now to the idea of moving somewhere, although previous to his sick spell and our burn out, he had full intended to move us to Arizona and quite likely to Mesa which was his preference. After Lacey Laramie's visit, he decided to take a look at Panguitch and Escalante. Father had a team of yellow mare close at hand and as we were getting them ready for the trip, a Danish neighbor came along and traded father a team of brown geldings for the two mares and colts. (Roscoe was one of the colts). Rat and Bill had been traded off in the meantime to Uncle Jake Barron for the yellow mares whose names were Maude and Peggy. Maude was mine and Peggy was Frank's. Our Uncles, the Barron boys, helped us get everything ready, got the team in shape, loaded the wagon, etc. We didn't forget the old flour box or the charter oak stove. The morning we were to leave finally came and father had to be helped into the wagon and a special place provided where he could rest. This took place about the first part of May 1887. Our immediate destination was Panguitch where we were to stay temporarily at Aunt Lizzie Proctor's home. I think we camped the first night at Bellevue. To my recollection, we stayed the second night at Cedar City, the third night at Parawan and the fourth night we arrived in Panguitch at Aunt Lizzie's. After two days at Panguitch, father began feeling better and decided to leave us at Aunt Lizzie's home for a time while he went over to Escalante to look around and get located. Aunt Lizzie wanted to go with father to Escalante and visit, at the family of Thomas Heaps and in fact most everyone in Escalante had lived in Panguitch as her neighbors. Even before any of them had lived in Panguitch, they had all been neighbors in Panaca, Nevada. My grandfather, Alexander Barron, had been the bishop at Panaca and while he went away on a mission for the Church (short term) he had hired Sister Susannah Heaps to care for Grandmother Barron while she was in bed during confinement while he was gone. Among other things, Grandma Heaps was to have all the yarn she could knit out of wool during her spare time. While in Escalante, Father stayed with Thomas Heaps and rented a house from Lacey Laramie where he could move us to. He was gone about a week, and back for us with a feeling that he had found the promised land. We started for Escalante, camping the first night at Sweet Water on a ranch belonging to Wadkin Reece. (Widstoe) The next morning, we continued our journey over the mountains. It was five miles to the top of the divide. The elevation was 9,080 feet. The road was rough and slow. We continued on down the mountain 20 miles to Escalante arriving at the home of Thomas Heaps in the afternoon. We ate supper at Mother Heaps place. It was late afternoon and she fixed the table under the locust tree in the back yard. I remember hearing a horn play while we were waiting and Mother Heaps said, "There goes Wes to band practice". Wes Young played in the band there. He was an uncle to Arthur Young who married my sister, Dora. While we were eating supper, Alice and Lilly Heaps came home from somewhere. That was the first time I saw her. They went into the house and I remember seeing them peeking from the window and pointing at me. Later, after we grew older, Lilly told me that Alice said when she pointed, She said, "Do you see that little black-eyed boy there? Some day I am going to marry him." Later in the evening we went up to the house that Father had rented. A man by the name of Jake Butler and his wife had cleaned the house for us and helped us move in. He later brought one of his cows over and loaned it to Father so we could have some milk. At the time, Father was about 35 years old. He was feeling lots better after his sick spell and was anxious to get back to work. He had some horses that he had left in Washington and wanted to trade for cattle, so he and Frank went back to Washington for them. On the road home to Parowan they traded some of the horses for cattle, so when they arrived they had about 20 head of horses and about 15 head of cattle. He got the cattle at Bear Valley Ranch about half way between Parowan and Panguitch. When Father got to Washington, the old Danishman wanted to trade the yellow mares, Maude and Peggy, back for the brown team. Father consented to trade for 20 gallons of wine to boot which he could sell for $2.00 a gallon to pay the expenses of the trip. He also got the two colts, Roscoe and Nig. They arrived at home with the horses and cattle and turned them loose on plenty of feed. Father immediately secured possession of a lot which was to be the location of our future home. This lot was located in the southwest corner of he block adjoining the one where we were living which was located immediately north or in the northwest corner of the block. This was in the middle of the summer so Father went to the mountains nearby and got logs which were to be used to build the house. He had the logs squared at a nearby saw mill which was owned by Bishop Andrew P/ Skow, Rial Porter and others. He worked hard on the house and with Frank's and my help, he got the house ready so we could move in to it by fall. Grandfather Lufkin, in Salt Lake, owned quite a lot of stock, horses, and cattle and inasmuch as Escalante was a good stock country, it was decided that they should be moved to the Escalante range. Therefore, in the latter part of September 1887, Father, Frank, and I hooked up the yellow mares to our 3 1/4 Schettler Wagon (Father's favorite) and started for Salt Lake. Our wagon had a good canvas cover on it and we made the trip in about 8 to 10 days. Grandfather had the stock confined in the pasture when we arrived so they would be ready without delay. Arrangements had been made prior to our trip for me to stay with Grandfather Lufkin in Salt Lake and go to school. I went to school all winter and as I remember, we lived in the 15th Ward, 506 West 2nd South. Uncle George helped Father and Frank drive the cattle back to Esclante. They arrived there sometime in November. Father turned the stock loose in what we called wide hollow-up-the-creek northwest of town. He had some loss as Grandfather's stock were not used to wintering out. The next spring (1888) Father rented a farm from Rufus Liston, an old acquaintance from Panaca and St. George. Listons furnished Father old lightfoot and Bill to help work the land. He plowed with a hand plow and planted 20 acres of wheat, 10 acres of oats and 10 acres of corn. The rest was in hay. Jake Butler cut part of the grain with a cradle, and the rest was cut with a self rake (a new gadget at that time). Father ran that farm for three years. He got half of everything. He furnished all the help and they furnished the seed. The set price for wheat was $1.25 cwt., a price established by the Bishop. I stayed in Salt Lake until about May 1888 and I got a letter stating that Rob Allen was coming to Salt Lake for a load of merchandise for his store in Escalante and father had made arrangements for Mr. Allen to bring me home with him. We arrived in Escalante about my birthday, June 2nd. When I got ready to leave, Grandmother Lufkin bought a new suit for me and one for Frank - also new shoes. This was the first new suit I had ever owned. On the fourth of July, we wore our new suits to the Childrens' Dance. We looked out of place as new suits were not common in Escalante at that time. I remember how glad Alice and I were to see each other. I knew she was still my girl. Frank was quite disgusted because Mother made him wear a bow tie. We acquired more cattle through the summer, and the following year, 1889, it became necessary for Father to furnish a rider which was the custom of the range setup. Father arranged for Lem Young to be my guardian and advisor and keep me out of trouble. I rode a brown saddle more that belonged to Johnny Moody. "Roscoe" was fast growing up and about the second year of my riding, I had him ready to go. Old Yaller or "Kenno" which was his name had been folled by one of the yellow mares, Peggy, after we had moved to Escalante from Washington. Eventually, or about the spring of 1891, I broke "Kenno" to ride. These two horses were my mainstays during all the riding I did during my time on the Escalante range. The range where the cattle were ranged during the summer was known as the Escalante mountain range commencing about where the road goes over the mountain 20 miles west of Escalante and running on around to the north and continuing east as far as Boulder or a distance of about 40 to 60 miles. In the wintertime the cattle were driven to the desert southeast of Escalante and the main job during the winter was to keep them scattered out and not let them bunch up which they were naturally inclined to do. The desert range extended from "Hole in the Rock" so named by some early day pioneers who had ferried across the Colorado from Utah to Bluff City, Colorado, sent by Brigham Young. It was while we were living in Escalante that my Mother received an injury from which she never recovered. I remember it well because I saw it happen. She was expecting to be confined within a few months but was still active enough to stand on a chair to reach for something in the cupboard. I recall that the chair turned with her in an off balance position and she landed on the floor quite badly hurt. Up until that time she had been active and as normal as any person. From that day on, her health failed and she was never the same afterwards. Father spent about all he could make and did everything possible but she never regained her health. What schooling I got was completed in Escalante and later on I herded sheep for various people among which were the Griffins and the Spencers. I never collected the money, Father took care of that, which was the custom at the time. John Spencer was one of my best friends and has always remained so. I was considered by some of the older folks to be quite a rowdy fellow but never got into any trouble except of a playful nature. I was quite a hand to sing and dance and in the evenings could generally be heard from one end of town to the other, so they said. Old Yaller or "Kenno" became quite a race horse around Escalante and was never defeated except by a blooded horse brought in from Panguitch. He was in his prime the most beautiful horse I ever saw and no amount of money would buy him. The man who brought in the blooded horse slipped around to me on the side and said, "Kid, you've got a fine horse there but don't bet any money on him. He can't outrun my horse." I didn't have any money but took his word for it anyway and his horse beat Yaller by a length or two. As I remember it, Billy Lay rode Yaller in most of his races because he was light and a splendid rider. I brought Roscoe and Yaller to Idaho with me and Roscoe died in Menan on a ranch Frank was running and which is owned now by Bill Clark. Roscoe was not as fast as Yaller but was a little better saddle horse. I kept Yaller here until he died at about the age of 27. I've owned many a horse in my day, but those two were perhaps my favorites. After I was married, I used them to carry mail from Escalante to Panguitch and they saw me through many a hardship. At one time during the winter near Tropic on my way to Panguitch, I came very close to freezing to death. i was completely lost most of the day and was about to give up when I sighted smoke coming up out of some trees ahead. It was four men camped weathering out the storm. They said, "For Heaven's sake, Lad, where have you been?" They gave me something to eat, warmed me up, loaded in the buggy, and took off for Panguitch as soon as the storm subsided a bit. They were afraid I was in a serious condition but I was soon all right and able to return to Escalante with the mail. Previous History Compiled and Continued by T. Eugene Lufkin, a son In November 1933, I had the privilege of taking my Father and Mother back to Escalante for a visit. We pretty well retraced the road they followed in moving from Escalante, Utah, to Idaho, thirty-two years earlier. On this trip they recounted the story of their lives, and more particularly, of their early lives in Escalante and of their travels and experiences in the late 1890's which eventually led to their establishing a home in Idaho. It was in the spring of 1887 when the family of John T. Lufkin arrived in Escalante from their previous home near St. George. After living in a rented house for a few months, they bought a vacant lot, Lot 3, Block 27, according to the town plat of Escalante. Each lot consisted of 1 1/4 acres with four lots to the block. Lot 3 is in the Southwest corner of the block facing South and West. John T. Lufkin, with the help of his son, Frank, and my Father, George, managed to get out logs from the nearby mountains. By the time Fall arrived, they had a house built near the Southwest corner of the lot. Eventually, a lean-to addition was built on the east side of the house for a kitchen and extra bedroom. Barns and corrals were built, and finally, a yellow brick, two compartment granary was built. Frank and George used one part for a bedroom during the remaining years of their lives at home. (When we went back to the old home in 1933, my father, George T., noted that everything was almost identical as he had last seen it about 1901, and he recounted many events of their youthful days.) In the preceding chapters, my father has given a personal account of a part of his life which I'll endeavor not to retell, but only to fill-in and to extend the story from where he left off. He told of carrying the mail and of his having fallen in love with Alice Heaps, who later became his wife and my mother. The road he traveled was West from Escalante about six miles, thence southwest through the upper valley, Henriville, Cannonville, and Tropic, and on to Panguitch. Thomas Heaps, the father of Alice Ann, operated a dairy ranch in the upper valley through which the mail route meandered. As soon as school was out in the Spring, he would take two or three of his girls to the ranch, and they would stay there the entire summer herding and caring for the dairy stock and making cheese which would be delivered by wagon over the mountain to Marysvale, a distance of about 100 miles, which was the nearest railroad connection. My father and mother laughed and told about the excuses they used to get to see each other as he made his trips past the ranch. Most of the area north and east of Escalante, up Pine Creek, east to Boulder, and the Henry Mountain, south to the Colorado River and southwest along the Utah-Arizona border for several miles was used, mostly, for cattle range. However, there was an area west and north that was used for sheep range along with some of the Boulder area in the earlier history of Escalante. There were several prominent sheep raisers: the Griffins, the Barneys, the Roundys, the Shurtz, and the Joe Spencer family to some extent. My father, George T, told of herding sheep of various times and of being out for weeks at a time, mostly on the mountain range about 30 miles northwest of Escalante. Grandfather Thomas Heaps was a cattle man and as the ranges were getting overstocked and fed out, he decided to find a summer range in another area, which turned out to be an open range country in Idaho which extended from Rexburg, Idaho, into the Teton Basin County to where Victor and Driggs, Idaho, are now located. The distance was approximately 600 miles from Escalante and required about thirty days to make the trip. On one of these trips, he asked George T. to go along and help drive the stock. He also took Alice along to do the cooking and drive the wagon. He acted as chaperon and extra rider as required. Upon arriving at Rexburg, he turned the cattle loose in good feed on the rolling hills southeast of what was then a small town. He rented a small house in Rexburg, and from this point he could ride out occasionally and check on the herd. This was during the spring and summer of 1896. George T. was about 20 years old and anxious for a job, which turned out to be hauling grain with Thomas Heaps' team and wagon from Rexburg to the Oregon Shortline Railroad at Market Lake (Roberts). The dirt road at that time went west and south to a bridge that had been built across the north fork of the Snake River, on west past the "Big Buttes", through the sage brush and lava beds on the north side of the river. The distance each way was about twenty-five miles. It was a romantic summer for them and on September 20, 1896, with Grandpa Thomas Heaps present, George T. and Alice Ann were married by a Probate Judge in Rexburg, Idaho. Shortly after the marriage, Grandpa Heaps left for home alone and was to meet a large number of his family in Manti, Utah, to do Temple work. The young couple soon followed in the wagon. They enjoyed their honeymoon ride to Logan, Utah, where they spent a few days with George T.'s grandparents, George Washington Lufkin and Martha Ann Townsend; while there, they went to the Logan Temple for their endowments and sealing. In telling of this, Alice Ann always mentioned about Martha Ann insisting on her wearing her temple clothes and how snowy white and beautiful they were. She was also very impressed with the hospitality shown them. These were the same grandparents with whom George T had stayed in Salt Lake during the winter and spring of 1887 and 1888. They moved to Logan a few years earlier, and naturally were very glad to see him. After a short stay, they continued on their way and arrived in Manti in time to participate in the Temple work which occurred about the middle of October 1896. They joined with the large family group in making the trip on home to Escalante. It is my understanding that Thomas and Susannah Heaps worked in the Temple for about a week doing sealings, etc. for themselves and their relatives whom they had left in England approximately thirty years before. I have often heard my parents talk about what a grand time they had making that trip back home with their covered wagons strung out in a caravan fashion. The trip required about a week. Upon returning to Escalante, they rented a small house from Bill Hall. It was located one block south of Main Street, and had been built on a lot (Lot 1, Block 32) which had been improved and sold to Mr. Hall by Thomas Heaps a few years earlier. It is now (1965) owned by Beryl Shurtz. It was in this small frame house where my sister, Verna Mae, was born on July 26, 1897. They lived here for about a year during which time they purchased a small brick house located on Lot 4, Block 41. This property was one block east and two blocks south of Grandpa John T's house. John Spencer's home was on Lot 2 in the Northwest corner of the same block. Orin Barker, my cousin, eventually bought and lived on Lot 1 in the Northeast corner of the block. I make note of this for the reason that John Spencer and Orin Barker were probably two of my father's favorite friends, and remained so as long as he lived. John Spencer's father, Joseph H. Spencer. was Grandfather Thomas Heaps' step-brother, his father having married his mother, Mary Cragg, after she became a widow when Thomas was a small boy in England. Joe Spencer's mother had died leaving a small family without a mother. Their affections for each other were real, and after Thomas had come to America, Joe Spencer followed, and when a small group of men were appointed at Panguitch to go investigate the Escalante country and to determine if it would be possible to take wagons into the area, these two men were in the group The country was rough and nearly impassable, even with saddle horses. This was in 1875, and after considerable searching, they determined that a road could be made over the Escalante Mountains. This was accomplished during the spring of 1876, and Escalante was to become a historic haven and home for people from many lands. My Mother, Alice Ann, was to be the first white girl born there (November 20, 1876). Grandfather Thomas Heaps had bought what became Lot 1, Block 14, when the town was platted for record. Joe Spencer bought the lot to the south, Lot 4, Block 14. It was here where he and his wife, Jane Ellen, or "Aunt Jane" as she was known, raised a large family. She died in 1916 and he continued on living here until his own death in 1924. A daughter, Martha S. Bushman, finally fell heir to the property and today, 1965, it belongs to Lorenzo and Ruth Bushman. It was past this property starting at a point about two blocks west, where the horse races mentioned earlier were held. Uncle Willard Heaps' large brick home was in the adjoining lot to the west, Lot 3, Block 14. During the next few years, my father, George T., settled down to the job of making a home and living for his coming family. He herded sheep, worked on schoolhouse construction, carried the mail, and rode after stock for Grandfather John T. Lufkin and others. He was a very good rider and horseman and spent all the time he could riding the Escalante range from Halls Canyon west to the Paria River, and from Barker Reservoir at the head of North Creek to the famous Hole-In-The-Rock on the north bank of the Colorado River. Some of the very familiar places about which he talked were: Alvey Wash, Barney Top, Boulder Creek, Burr Top Trail, and Calf Creek; also Coyote Gulch, Dance Hall Rock, Death Hollow, Fifty Mile Mountain, Fifty Mile Spring, and Hall Creek. Others were: Hall's Backbone, Reese Canyon, Hogsback, Rogers Canyon, Soda Springs, Wild Cat Hollow, Harris Wash, and Griffin Top, among many others. There was no T.V., or radio at the time; consequently, spare time, especially in the winter, was one of the problems. One of the favorite pastimes in the daytime was sitting around in front of the town stores, which included the Wilcock store, the old Co-Op store, and the "Peoples Exchange" one block to the north. George T. was in a group of the town "whittlers" one day when a visitor came by. The visitor looked disgusted and asked, "Is this all you fellows have to do?" No one answered for a minute. Then Hyme Bailey looked up and said, "We don't even have to do this, if we don't want to". George T. was a great storyteller, and when I was a boy, I could sit for hours and listen to him tell of his experiences on the range, of what a chilling experience it was to ride across Hell's Backbone, a very dangerous place on the south Boulder Mountain; also of having their pack horse slip off the trail and roll end-over-end down a steep slope with a full pack of needed provisions. He told of how one day, as he was walking up a long steep trail, he would see how far he could go without raising his head. He had traveled quite some distance when the urge to look up could no longer be controlled, and as he raised his eyes to see, there was an Indian standing in the trail a short distance away just watching his approach. One of their favorite pastimes was gathering pinion, or pine nuts, in the fall of the year, and occasionally, they would receive a bag of pine nuts from some of their folks after they had moved to Idaho. This generally meant a few tears for my Mother, Alice Ann. George T. and Alice Ann were always quite civic and church minded; consequently, with Andrew P. Schaw as their Bishop and Joseph H. Spencer as the Sunday School Superintendent, they participated in all community and ward activities. They both liked to sing and actively participated in choir singing in Escalante under the direction of William Butler and later, William Alvey. Their choir, at times, numbered from sixty to seventy voices. My parents loved Escalante. Their relatives and friends were mostly there, but they could see the day coming when, because of depleted ranges and the fact that although Escalante was a picturesque place in a little pocket or valley, it was surrounded by dry and parched mountain ranges and adjoined by an almost worthless desert to the south, and that in order to provide their family with better opportunities, they must go. To my memory, they seemed never to have been attracted to any place other than Idaho, and more particularly the area between Idaho Falls and Rexburg. Therefore, in the spring of 1902, they disposed of their little home in Escalante (which at this time, 1965, is owned by Lorell Munson) and made preparations to take off for the area where they had so enjoyed themselves in 1896, and which they had never forgotten. My mother used to tell about how terribly sad they were as time came to leave. Travel in those days was extremely slow and they must have had a feeling that many years would pass before they could return. My mother did finally manage to return in the fall of 1909, and my Father, not until November 1933, when I managed to get them to go with me and my wife and children, Alba and Cordell, in our little red Model T. Ford with the Ruxtell gear, which I deemed necessary in order to get over the legendary Escalante Mountain, which was very similar to the road over the Jackson Pass into Wyoming. After many sad adieus and a display pf much sadness, they took off to the West in their covered wagon. Their destination for the end of the day would be the famous old campground at the east base of Escalante Mountain near a beautiful stream - Birch Creek - and surrounded by massive pine trees which had no doubt heard the footsteps of hundreds of Indians and wild animals, and more recently those of the white man. (I remember this campground well from the time, when as a boy of six in October of 1909, my Mother took three of her children: myself, my sister, Grace, and Maxine, who was just a baby, and made a trip back to Escalante. We were met at Marysvale, the end of the railroad, by Uncle George Campbell, who took us over the mountain and camped us at this same campground. It was also at this same place where we killed and ate the little blue hen that had climbed into the wagon the morning we left to go back home in an early April day in 1910. Grace and I quarreled about the little brown egg the hen had laid, and I think our Mother divided it up between us). After what undoubtedly would be a restless night, they arrived at the top of the mountain (elevation of approximately 9,200 feet). I often think about the fact that on this trip she had in her care her three older children, Verna, Roy, and Lavar, and as related above, she later took three different ones. I imagine I can see and hear them as they stood at this dividing line looking back toward Escalante, twenty miles to the southeast, waving their hands and saying, "Thanks, Escalante! Thanks for the the memories!" It now seems fitting to say that the top of the Escalante Mountain would, in a way, be the dividing line between the memorable past and the unknown future for them; and I believe their feelings at that time could be well expressed in the words of Vicent Benet: "The cowards never started and the weak died on the road, And all across the Continent the endless Campfires glowed. We'd taken land and settled - but a traveler passed by - And we're going North tomorrow - Lordy, never ask us why!" In telling the story of their lives, we are not presuming or attempting to say that their hardships were any harder or different than those of thousands of other people, and especially in the settling of this Western Land. It is my understanding that their worldly possessions consisted of about the following items: a team of horses and a wagon with a canvas cover; two saddle horses, Roscoe and Yaller; a few campfire and cooking utensils; some tools; a shovel and ax; and old "Fannie", the female dog which they had acquired in Escalante. They must have had a cow or two, but I'm not sure. They proceeded down the west side of the mountain to Sweetwater (Widstoe), a distance of about five or six miles, and probably camped for the night at Antimony several miles further on. Antimony was a popular stop-over for freighters and others on the way to and from Marysvale and Escalante. Most of the details of the trip have been lost with the passing of time, but they often mentioned the monotony of the day-after-day travel over the rocky and dusty roads. She would quite often drive the team and he would scout around astride one of the two saddle horses. My Father was a very friendly man and a gifted conversationalist; whereas, my Mother, although very friendly, was more serious, and I imagine that many times she had camp made and supper ready when he came in late after a friendly political discussion with some chance acquaintance along the way. They would cross the Sevier River near the little settlement of Junction, and it would be their campground companion while they would travel to and from the following places: Marysvale, Big Rock Candy Mountain, Sevier, Joseph, Elsinore, Richfield, Sigurd, Salina, and Gunnison where they would turn right towards Manti. (I would like to mention that at this very time the McMurtrey family was living in the little town of Joseph, or "Joe Town" as Dad and Jim McMurtrey used to talk about it many years later.) One of the Barron boys was living at Sigurd. They stopped at his place for a day or two and rested up before continuing their journey. (When we made the trip to Escalante in 1933, we stopped and visited with them, and I believe his name was Mose Barron.) In about another ten days, they reached the home of George Washington Lufkin in Logan, Utah, where they again rested and had a good old-fashioned visit. In about another week, they crossed the Utah line into Idaho which was to be their adopted state and which, I believe, was to them the greatest of all the states. "Uncle Jake Barron", as he has always been known, my Fathers uncle and a brother to Mose Barron, had homesteaded a farm which was located about half way between Inkom and Pocatello in Idaho. This farm straddled the Portneuf River and his house and barns had an ideal setting on the west bank of the river. Uncle Jake, along with Uncle Mose and others, had helped get my Grandfather John T. Lufkin's team ready when the latter moved from their home in Washington, Utah, as related earlier. He and Aunt Nish had been quite successful and truly welcomed my parents to their home. (We stayed overnight at their home on our trip to Escalante in 1933, and it was really an experience to hear them retell of their lives together so many years before. They tarried for a few days, then continued on down the Portneuf Canyon to Pocatello and on north to the Fort Hall Indian Reservation. They used to talk about how deep and difficult the sand was across this are, and they remembered that the wagon road they traveled was somewhat east of the present highway (1965) and stayed more to the edge of the foothills on its course to the town of Blackfoot, Idaho.) A few years earlier, my Father's Uncle, George E. Lufkin, whose name has been referred to many times in the early part of this biography, had moved to the small town of Shelley where he had acquired a farm and was managing to do quite well financially. He had a family by this time; about three girls and two boys, John and Allan. The boys were too young for heavy farm work; therefore, Uncle George induced my Father to be his hired man for that summer of 1902. My Father welcomed this opportunity, for he and my Mother were proud and independent people and were determined to make their own way so far as making a living was concerned. Uncle George provided them with a place to live and with pasture for their animals and helped them in many other ways. My Father has often talked about how different it was working in the hay and potato fields and helping to harvest the grain in the Fall, especially hauling grain and feeding it into a horse-powered threshing machine in the Fall of that year. He had done some of this work in Escalante, but on a much smaller scale. Anyway, it was a lot more fun to ride the Escalante range. Jobs were hard to find in this area, especially after the fall harvest was completed; but during the summer and especially during the fall harvest, he had become acquainted with a good many people among whom were the Priest boys at Taylorsville, a small farming community east of Shelley. He recognized them as being his kind of people, and they recognized him as a young man with a family who needed a job and was willing to work and earn his pay. In the wintertime they operated a hay baling business and would go from farm to farm in the area as requested by the hay growers and bale the hay at a contract price. They offered him a job for the winter with the understanding that they would use him whenever possible. The area as a farming community was relatively new, having been broken out of sage brush possibly thirty years earlier. It had for many years been a part of the Taylor Mountain cattle domain of one John Taylor who built the first toll bridge across the Snake River at "Eagle Rock" or Idaho Falls, as it is now known. As the early settlers will verify, the winters at that time were usually very bad with deep snow and low temperatures the rule. The roads were poor and travel was by horse drawn bobsled. My parents moved to Taylorsville and lived that winter in a rented house a little south and west of the present Taylorsville Community Center. They liked Taylorsville; the people were very friendly and helpful, and had it not been for one sorrowing experience, it would have been a good winter. On December 6, 1902, a son was born to them. He was a welcome addition to their family and seemed to be a new ray of sunshine for them. Eventually, they had him blessed and given the name of John Henry. About the middle of January he became ill with pneumonia, and in spite of all they could do, he died on January 28, 1903. They buried him in the Taylorsville Cemetery. The cemetery was, at that early date, a squirrel infested spot which had been cut out of sage brush at the base of the Taylorsville Mountain at the southeastern edge of the Community Center. It has since become a well-organized, well kept, modern cemetery. My Father was still looking to the North and during the winter had done a little scouting and inquiring about a permanent place to settle. Consequently, when spring came, they loaded into the wagon and headed North. They have often talked about camping overnight on a hillside a short distance east of the W.H. Price farm, which is due north of Iona. They proceeded north from this point, but somewhere along the line they turned west and then north again, for they used to tell about camping overnight in the far yard of Abe Gneiting in the community of Grant, which is located north of Idaho Falls in Jefferson County. They continued on north to Menan, Idaho, where they rented a small farm from a man by the name of Rube Scott. This farm was located slightly over a mile east of the village of Menan. It had a good brick house on it into which they moved. My Father operated this farm and worked for other farmers whenever work was available. He often mentioned the names of Milburn Poole, Ed Carr, Will Merrill, Eph. Lawson, and many others. Sometime during the fall of 1903, my Grandfather, John T. Lufkin, had sold out in Escalante, Utah. He had loaded his stock and other belongings into railroad cars at Manti, Utah. They eventually unloaded at Roberts, Idaho, and moved temporarily into a part of the Rube Scott house where my parents were living. I was born in the early morning of December 3, 1903, and my Father used to tell about how he and Grandfather Lufkin had gone that day in a white-topped buggy with John and Ike Fisher to Idaho Falls where they closed out the purchase of a farm (the old Bacon farm) from the Fisher brothers. This farm was located in Annis, Idaho, about three miles to the east. My Father was to get the south forty acres, and Grandfather was to have the north forty acres where there was a log house already built. At the time of purchase, they agreed between them that if either ever sold he would give the other one the first chance to buy him out. My Grandfather moved immediately into this log house. According to my memory, my Father continued to operate the Rube Scott farm during the summer of 1904. His brother, Frank, arrived on the scene about this time and moved his family into the part of the Scott house vacated by Grandfather Lufkin. Uncle Frank rented a farm on the north side of Menan (where Bill Clark now lives), and in the spring of 1904, he moved his family into a house on this farm. He operated this farm for several years and moved from that farm to the farm he later bought from Will Merrill, located near the Annis school house. My Father had brought Roscoe and Yaller from Utah with him. As related earlier, Roscoe belonged to Uncle Frank; consequently, when he took over this farm in 1904, he took Roscoe with him. (It is here where Roscoe fell dead of a heart attack while being ridden.) In the Fall of 1904, my Father moved his family to Annis. There was not a house on his part of the farm, so he rented a house known as the "Gerard House". It was a log and frame structure about where Grant Bybee now lives. They were slowly closing in on what was eventually to be their permanent home for life. As soon as they were settled in the Gerard house, my Father heard of a freighting job in the Twin Falls area nearly two hundred miles to the southwest. Therefore, in early December he hitched his team, "Dick and Beck", to his covered wagon and took off for that area. He spent the winter of 1904 and 1905 hauling freight from Shoshone, Idaho, (which was on the new Shoshone - Hailey Railroad line) to the new community of Twin Falls which had a short time previously been opened up for development. When he returned home in the Spring of 1905, he brought back a good share of the money that he had made during the long cold winter. Although the Gerard house was poorly built, and one could hear the winter wind whistle around the windows and doors, my Mother managed to gather wood and keep her little family warm and comfortable. It was my sister, Verna's second year in school, and although the school house was a long mile and one-half from home and school buses were unheard of at that time, she got along just fine. A special thanks would have to go to the Pierce family along with Rachael Maynard, Annie Clifford, Bess Dinsdale, also, Bill and Gertrude Bruce for their help; their homes were one to two miles farther from school than ours. (I would like to mention that the now famous author, Vardis Fisher, along with his brother, Vivian, were at that time attending the Annis school (District #49) and continued to go there for several years afterwards.) My brother, Roy, had reached the hard-to-control age, was crazy about horses, and although he was small, he could still manage to get on old Yaller's back and be on his way. I might mention that he was tongue-tied until he was about four years of age, consequently, because of his garbled lingo, he was given the name of "Dutch", which stuck with him all through his school years. Even to this day I have people ask, "What ever happened to your brother. "Dutch"? One of my parents favorite stories about him was when he came in one day and said, "Old Fannie hatched some little pups under the back porch." The Gerard house was only about one-fourth mile from my Father's newly acquired farm which he operated that year for the first time. Their world was improving with time until a late June day of that year. My parents had to go to a funeral somewhere in the Shelley area. They left the children, Verna, Roy, and Lavar, in the care of my father's sister, Lillie, and although she was a good and competent girl, my brother, Lavar, got away. He hadn't been gone long, but when they found him, he was face down in an irrigation ditch that ran in front of the house. This occurred on June 26, 1905. He was buried in the Annis-Cedar Butte Cemetery. As time permitted during the summer, my Father made a couple of trips to a saw mill in Blacks Canyon, which was operated by Eli Campbell and Joe Fisher, where he got out logs and weanie edge slabs with which to build a house and some granaries on his farm. As I remember the story, Roy went with him on these trips. In the late summer, he moved his family into a large tent close by a tree-lined slough near where the house was to be. He did this in order to be close to the job. He got a man to help him lay the logs, and within a short time they had the house built. After my Mother got the walls and ceiling lined with factory cloth and lime, they moved in. They were home! Had it not been for the drowning incident, it would have been a dream come true. They continued with their building job, and in a short time, had a double-binned slab granary built where he could store the newly threshed wheat an oats as it came from the threshing machine. It was about this time that Grandfather Heaps came to visit with them. He had liked the state of Idaho from his very first visit and had been particularly impressed by the Upper Snake River Valley. He stated that, If it were possible, he would sell out in Utah and move to Idaho but that at his age he thought it would be unwise to do so. After returning to his home in Escalante, he became ill and died on December 4, 1905. An open well about twenty-five feet deep was dug on the edge of a slope near the house and was cased with one inch rough lumber as was the custom. An overhead frame was built and a pulley hung from the center which would handle a one-half inch well rope with a bucket at the end. I can still hear that old squeaking pulley. My Father made a stock-watering trough by chopping out the center of a cottonwood log which was too heavy for the stock to move around. We accumulated livestock quite rapidly, such as the following: horses, milk cows, pigs, chickens, and cats, along with the two dogs, "Bounce and Buster". There was some brush on the place which had to be grubbed off. New ditches had to be made and considerable leveling had to be done in order to better irrigate the crops that were to be raised. About the following year of 1906, a sugar factory was built at Sugar City about 20 miles to the northeast. My Grandfather made preparations to be there and on the job for the first sugar processing campaign in the fall of 1906. He was there successively for every sugar run for the next 30 years, or until after the fall and winter of 1936-1937. My Father and Uncle Frank also worked at the factory at times during the early history of the plant. They liked working there, partly because they liked the hustle and bustle of the place, but more for the fact that it helped to supplement their yearly income and enabled them to get ahead a little faster. Most of the years, my Father operated Grandfather Lufkin's farm along with his own, and in this way he was better able to utilize the labor of his growing family. My Mother was full of ambition, so while he was working and supervising the planting and harvesting of the farm crops, she was planting and caring for a large garden; setting hens and raising chickens; milking cows and feeding calves; doing the washing on an old style scrub board; drawing water for the stock, gathering wood from the slough banks; doing the cooking for a progressively growing family and a hundred and one other chores, along with working in the Relief Society, acting as mid-wife or aiding with the sick wherever she was needed. A man would have to be a born failure to fail with that kind of help. Our old house was crude and small by today's standards, but it was always clean and although we all had to work - what we thought was hard - yet to my own memory, we had a good comfortable place to sleep and plenty of good, well prepared food to eat. My Mother was a very good cook who could cook the bark from an aspen tree and make it taste like chocolate cake. My Father worked us aplenty and was not too concerned about our bare feet and the holes in our britches. Nevertheless, he wanted us to remain at the table until we were satisfied. The roads in Annis at that time were generally enclosed by farm fences, but were upgraded and ungraveled, consequently, during ad after every storm, and especially after the snow had melted in the spring, they had to be dragged and smoothed with a road drag which generally required about four good horses to do the job. Also, some bridge and culvert work had to be done. For several years my Father did some of this work. I also remember hauling hay for a man by the name of Goodrich and also for our old neighbor, Dave Parks. I always wanted to be with him and I remember how scary it was crossing the Annis slough in Uncle Dave's field. The water was about two to three feet deep and generally the banks were so rough getting in and out that it would about tip the load over. I always had full confidence in my Father and fully believed there was not anything that he couldn't do. My sister, Grace, was born on April 16th, 1906, and I seem to recall that I had to move over and make room for her, not only in my parents affections but at the table and in the bed where I slept as a child. Grace didn't like to wash dishes and do housework but she was a great help in other ways and more than made her way thinning and hoeing sugar beets, potatoes, etc. Our sister, Maxine, was born on January 27, 1909, and soon won the affection of the rest of the family. She was not perfectly healthy at first and required a little special attention, and although she worked in the fields to some extent, she was a good housekeeper, paid good attention to what she was asked to do, consequently, she spent more time in the house. When October of 1909 arrived, my Mother was anxious to go back to the old home in Escalante for a visit. Arrangements were made and she was to take me and my sisters, Grace and Maxine, with her. According to their story, my Father took us to the depot at Rigby to meet the train and they used to tell about how it snowed and how muddy the roads were. It was a distance of about four and one-half miles. We weren't supposed to be gone more than a month or six weeks but shortly before we got ready to return, a heavy winter set in and travel over the Escalante Mountains was brought to a standstill, so it was decided that we should wait until travel would be safe. As it turned out, this was the following April of 1910. My Father, with Verna and Roy, must have had quite a winter. Verna and Roy were going to school and I imagine my Father must have again joined the "Whittlers" at the old brick community store in Annis. He was a great storyteller and could hold his own in any group of "Whittlers". Oscar A. Kirkham, who later became a world famous scouter, was at that time a sort of semi-professional choir leader and trainer of voices for the L.D.S. Church. During the winter and spring of 1910, he arranged to meet at the Lorenzo Ward meeting house one night a week and give special instruction to the choir leaders and choirs, along with some private voice instruction. My Father would hitch his team to a pair of bobsleds - which carried an old type wagon box - and gather together the members of the Annis choir and take them to this singing practice. An old English-trained choir leader by the name of Ed Lewis was their leader. George and Alice Lufkin were part of the choir. About this time, my Father became a School Trustee and was elected to be the Constable of Annis. He took quite an active part in church activities, was active in a community drama group, was edging his way into politics via the Precinct Committeeman route and a little later was a counselor, along with William Poole, in the Ward Bishopric, with George A. Browning as Bishop. I would like to digress long enough to say that my family on both sides had always been Democrats - he as well - until he came to Idaho. When he came to Menan - as has been told - he had become acquainted with John W. Hart, who was Bishop of Menan, active in the operation of the Woods Livestock, Sheep and Cattle Company, and more or less the leader of the of the Republican party in the area - which was at that time still a part of old Fremont County. Anyway, John W. Hart converted my Father over to the Republican side and there the ground work was laid for some of the most heated political debates that I have ever heard. Grandfather John T. Lufkin, along with Uncle Frank and Uncle Quill, were dyed-in-the-wool Democrats, and the one thing I remember best was my Grandfathers old-fashioned way of saying "says I" as he talked; and when he would get a little exasperated, he would get it shortened to just "si", and he would finally say "si", George, you know very well that Senator Borah was the poorest senator ever elected to the U.S. Senate. My Father could never agree with the principle of free trade which he claimed favored the American monopolists who purchased land abroad and shipped their produce, sheep, etc., back into our ports duty free. And thus the battle raged and never changed until death. To him, Senator Borah was one of the greatest. My sister, Norma, was born on March 15, 1911, and in keeping with the pattern already established, was in a few short years able to join the little band of weed choppers. She, too, would rather work in the fields than to do housework. Shortly after Norma was born, my Father acquired a part of the old Annis school house which had to be moved to make way for a new brick building. Several teams of horses were required to pull the heavy frame building the mile and one-quarter distance. It was placed in the southwest corner of our farm and after a little remodeling, we moved in. Several Carolina poplar trees were planted along the south and west line and by carrying water to the new trees with a bucket, we managed to keep them all alive. My Father was a great lover of horses, so I must keep that part of the story up to date. A few years previous to this time, my Father had traded for a grey filly from a man by the name of Clifford, who was the current mail carrier. The young filly was given the name of "Gyp". She finally got to weighing about eleven hundred pounds, and had all the qualities of a fine animal and, in spite of what my Father has said about Roscoe and Yaller, I know he liked "Gyp" just as well. She foaled two fine colts, "Mark and Bell", which I would have to say, became finally his favorite team. They were also grey and got to weighing about fifteen hundred pounds each. About this time, he purchased a small brown mare from our neighbor, Jim Scott. He paid Mr. Scott one hundred and twenty-five dollars, which at that time, was a lot of money. She had already foaled two fine colts, "Deck and Dime" and was to go on and foal three more geldings, "Tobe, Toff, and Jack". All five geldings were sired by the same stallion. The two mares, Gyp and Bess, under my Fathers handling became well trained, were evenly matched except for color ( Bess was dark brown), and would always give their very best under all circumstances. I would like to digress long enough to say that my family on both sides had always been Democrats - he as well - until he came to Idaho. When he came to Menan - as has been told - he had become acquainted with John W. Hart, who was Bishop of Menan, active in the operation of the Woods Livestock, Sheep and Cattle Company, and more or less the leader of the Republican party in the area - which was at that time still a part of old Fremont County. Anyway, John W. Hart converted my Father over to the Republican side and there the ground work was laid for some of the most heated political debates that I have ever heard. Grandfather John T. Lufkin, along with Uncle Frank and Uncle Quill, were dyed-in-the-wool Democrats, and the one thing I remember best was my Grandfathers old-fashioned way of saying, "says I" as he talked; and when he would get a little exasperated, he would get it shortened to just "si", and he would finally say "si", George, you know very well that Senator Borah was the poorest senator ever elected to the U.S. Senate. My Father could never agree with the principle of free trade which he claimed favored the American monopolists who purchased land abroad and shipped their produce, sheep, etc., back into our ports duty free. And thus the battle raged and never changed until death. To him, Senator Borah was one of the greatest. My sister, Norma, was born on March 15, 1911, and in keeping with the pattern already established, was in a few short years able to join the little band of weed choppers. She, too, would rather work in the fields then to do housework. Shortly after Norma was born, my Father acquired a part of the old Annis school house which had to be moved to make way for a new brick building. Several teams of horses were required to pull the heavy frame building the mile and one-quarter distance. It was placed in the southwest corner of our farm and after a little remodeling, we moved in. Several Carolina poplar trees were planted along the south and west line and by carrying water to the new trees with a bucket, we managed to keep them all alive. My Father was a great lover of horses, so I must keep that part of the story up to date. A few year previous to this time, my Father had traded for a grey filly from a man by the name of Clifford, who was the current mail carrier. The young filly was given the name of "Gyp". She finally got to weighing about eleven hundred pounds, and had all the qualities of a fine animal and, in spite of what my Father has said about Roscoe and Yaller, I know he liked "Gyp" just as well. She foaled two fine colts, "Mark and Bell", which I would have to say, became finally his favorite team. They were also grey and got to weighing about fifteen hundred pounds each. About this time, he purchased a small brown mare from our neighbor, Jim Scott. He paid Mr. Scott one hundred and twenty-five dollars, which at that time, was a lot of money. She had already foaled two fine colts, "Deck and Dime" and was to go on and foal three more geldings, "Tobe, Toff and Jack". All five geldings were sired by the same stallion. The two mares, Gyp and Bess, under my Father's handling became well, trained, were evenly matched except for color (Bess was dark brown), and would always give their very best under all circumstances. On May 7, 1913, my brother, Ryland, was born, the first in the new house. I remember my Father talking to me the morning after and I got the idea that he feared for my Mothers life. In spite of any trouble, she soon recovered and was back taking care of her family. A couple of years earlier, a man had come into the community with a band of Indian ponies which he had gathered from the wild area known as "Medicine Lodge" about sixty miles to the northwest. In the band was an ugly-looking sorrel mustang which my Father purchased for about twenty dollars. We named the new pony "Flax". It was generally understood that Flax belonged to Roy. I didn't seem to mind because Roy was with "Flax" like he was with everything else, never stingy, and the horse was mine to use whenever he was available. There was a sad incident occurred as a result of Flax slipping as Roy made a fast turn while riding him in the yard. He fell hard on Roy's left leg, breaking the leg squarely near the middle of the shin bone. This incident happened about the latter part of April of 1914. Within a short period of time he had the little horse trained to put his head down while Roy put his heavy-casted leg over the horse's neck, the head would then come up, and Roy was on. Several years earlier, an area south and east of Ririe had been opened up for homesteading and many of the farmers had taken up dry farms in that area. Among these were Bishop George A. Browning and the Fisher boys, Burt and Hype, along with E. M. Carr, Holman Clifford, Joe Scott, Erastus Walker, Lew Anderson, and many others. My Father had a desire to own a small dry farm which he could operated along with his irrigated farm in Annis, and as a result, in the fall of 1915, he purchased one hundred and sixty acres from H.J. "Hype" Fisher. This farm was located up on the bench from the Snake River and directly across from the mouths of the Burns and Blacks Canyon. In the Spring of 1916, after the valley crops were planted, my Father took his equipment to this farm and planted most of it to wheat, barley, and oats. The road to the River was shorter but it was too steep for heavy loads; consequently, water for the animals as well as house use had to be hauled a distance of about four miles from Antelope Creek. It was hauled in an eight hundred gallon water tank and the supply had to be replenished about three times a week. It took only about three weeks to do the planting that first year, but it was a thrilling experience. It gave us a feeling of being out on the great frontier, the land of he coyote, badgers, squirrels, and even wolves. We could not see the River from where our house was located, but we could hear the roar of its water as it moved down the deep canyon. Occasionally, we would go fishing down in what we called "First Bottom" and "Second Bottom" and also down on "John Nebel Flat". The next year of 1917, part of us spent the entire summer at this ranch. To me, it was the most fascinating year of my growing-up time and I believe Grace, Maxine, and Norma will say the same. They say that bears live mostly on berries. Well, they didn't have anything on us that summer. It seemed that during the late summer and fall, we practically lived on chokecherries and service berries. It didn't have to be that way, we just seemed to like it that way. We continued to operate this farm on a hit-and-miss basis until about 1925; but the year of 1917 was our only year of really living there. During the year of 1926, it was rented to “Doc” Fisher, an Uncle to Vardis Fisher. Through the years, my Father was quite active in his political party and during the summer of 1920, he was persuaded to run for office of Sheriff. It didn’t require too much persuasion, and when the election was over, he had won the job. He was a large man, was built straight up and down, and for years had worn a black, handlebar mustache. He really looked the part of an early day Western lawman. From his boyhood days in Utah, he had specialized in shooting a six shooter. Although, I don’t recall ever seeing him fire a rifle or a shotgun, I firmly believe he was one of the most accurate shooters of small fire arms that I have ever seen, at least in the amateur class. He could hit a squirrel at thirty to forty yards nine times out of ten. My brother, Roy, and I continued to operate the farms according to our Father’s instructions, with Roy being sort of a general foreman. My Father remained in town, having his sleeping quarters at the sheriff’s office and eating most of his meals at the up-town cafes. My Mother moved into town for a short period of time, but soon decided that that was not the life for her. She would much rather be back at the ranch where she could see to it that old Boss and Reddy and Blackie and what-ever-their-names-were, got the proper care. On July 7, 1915, their last son, Ellwood, had been born, and by now, he and Ryland were growing up and reaching a size where they could lend their bit toward the operation of the enterprise. About this time, or in the summer of 1923, the old Bartlet farm, a one-hundred and sixty acre farm, came up for sale and with the assistance of his old friend, John W. Hart, who was president of the Rigby Bank, my Father was able to buy this farm. He got it for what we considered a bargain price, partly because of his friendship with the right people, and also because of the fine reputation he had built up through the years. My Father was constantly on the lookout for good young livestock and used all the money he could spare to build up a nice young herd of range cattle. He was trying to help his brother, Quill, get a start. (Quill had more or less made our home his home for several years.) He gave Quill the job of riding the range, of accumulating some stock of his won and being a partner in the cattle operation. As mentioned earlier, the McMurtrey family had mostly moved to the Antelope dry farm country and Jim McMurtrey had a dry farm close to ours. My Father had always liked Jim, who was also accumulating a herd of range cattle. So after some negotiations, they applied to the forest service for an area where they could summer their cattle together. They were assigned the area on the north side of the Snake River extending from Mud Creek on the west to about the “Hole in the Rock”, which is just up river from Blacks Canyon. This area was across the river from our dry farm, and I recall that back in 1916 and 1917 we used to sit and watch Spalding’s sheep, especially the lambs, as they scampered and played over the sage brush hills. At that time, it looked to be five miles away, but it was actually not over a mile or two. The area extended to the heads of Big Burns Canyon and Blacks Canyon (where the old saw mill had been located), and included Hells Hole Canyon, Coal Mine Canyon, Bear Trap Canyon, Woods Canyon, and many smaller canyons such as Little Burns and Wolverine. Jim McMurtrey's family had been converted to the Mormon Church back in Alabama about 1885 by John W. Hart, who was in that area on a mission for the Church. Jim was a young boy at the time and when his parents immigrated to Joseph, Utah, he came with them. He was an unusual character, as tough as a knot and the noisiest man that ever rode the range. (In thirty years of riding, he had never seen a bear in the wild state.) He was always flapping his chaps and spurs, hollering at "Old Pedro", his dog, or just plain talking. Nevertheless, he was a good man with fine qualities. I have always thought that if Zane Grey had known Jim McMurtrey and "Quill" Lufkin they must surely would have been the featured characters in one of his books. Quill got married during the month of May 1923 and soon acquired some pasture land of his own but continued to ride after my Father's cattle through the summer of 1924. I was assigned to take over the job in the spring of 1925 and rode after the stock during the years of 1925 and 1926. In January 1927, I was called to go into the mission field, so the following spring my Father took over the job of riding after his own cattle. After an absence of almost twenty-six years, he was back in the saddle. As he stated in his letter, he had told the ranger that he was the best rider on the range - some of the range riders might dispute that statement, which had been made in jest, but I'm inclined to believe that most of them would say that it was true. In the spring of 1925, I had traded with "Doc" Fisher for a brown, four-year old gelding which had been raised by one of the Baker boys in Swan Valley. Jim McMurtrey and I started his breaking process by putting a pack on his back for about a weeks trip - repairing drift fences, and placing salt at the salt licks on the range. He broke-in fast and by carefully working with him, he became the finest saddle horse it has ever been my privilege to ride. Anyway, when my Father took over the riding in the spring of 1927, he admitted that "Button" was equal to either Roscoe or Yaller, his favorites back in the Escalante days. After "Button" developed a lame ankle a few years later, he purchased a young grey horse from Uncle Frank. This horse's name was "Kid". He had other horses but "Kid" was his mainstay, and by the time (in the middle 1940's) the horse had grown too old for use on the range my Father had, also. I don't recall the names of the rangers who had charge of he range while he was riding, but I'd like to mention the names of at least some of the people who were cattle owners and with whom he rode and others with whom he had to deal. There was Jim McMurtrey, Royal Ellis, Dave Smith, Nels Johnson, the Thompson family, and Ira Spalding. Also, there was Henry Zippel, the old trapper, along with Etzel Fisher, Carl Bucklin, and the Spalding brothers, some of he Wilcox boys along with the Grover boys from Sunnydell. About the time my Father took over the riding, the Palisades Cattle Growers Association was organized and our old range was taken into a larger expanded area which had an allotment of fourteen hundred head of cattle. Part of the time, my Father was the head of this association. I'm sure he liked this because he always seemed to enjoy being the "Boss" and carrying the responsibility of making things go. Sometime in the late 1930's, my Father purchased the old "Tom Goe" place just down the river from the famous old "Table Rock". This gave him considerable satisfaction as it provided him a good place to pasture his cattle in the spring and fall of the year. At this time I'd like to go back to about 1913 when my brother, Ryland, was born. I remember that my brother, Roy, although only a boy, was driving three horses, "Mark, Pat and Bess", on a sulky plow plowing a field east of the house. From that time on for several years, Roy was an unexpendable and essential part of the operations. My Father depended on him to keep things moving along. When Roy got married in 1926, he continued to operate under this system. By now, Ryland and Ellwood were commencing to shave and slick down their hair, and in a few years a place had to be made for them. They had worked hard through the years. My Father was depending on them more and more as time went on. He not only depended on their work on the farm, but they gradually took more and more of the range riding, hauling of necessary hay (which was generally bought from Doc Nye south of Rigby), and feeding of the cattle in the wintertime. It is my feeling that they more than earned everything they got out of it all. Ellwood was the last to get married. This happened in May 1936, and by this time, my Father had a considerable number of grandchildren and it was his great delight to have as many of his family as could gather at some place along the trail, as they made the cattle drive to and from the range in the spring and fall. They often met near Heise Hot Springs, Anderson Dam, Spring Creek, or the Goe Ranch for a big feed. All the daughters and daughters-in-law were good cooks, so King Tut in all his glory had nothing on George T. Lufkin. Enough horses could never be provided for all, but they took turns with the horses and with barking dogs, happy yelling kids, the horses munching on their hay and oats when stops were made, and the blatting and bellowing of the cows and calves, it was a time never to be forgotten. In deference to space and in order to hold this story to a reasonable length, I have endeavored to leave out the many details and the limitless hundreds of stories that could be told about my Father's life. I do, however, want to go back to his days as sheriff of Jefferson County and say that some of the treasured friends of life were made during his tenure in office. He was a friendly man, and attorneys, judges, other county sheriff's, County Commissioners, and unnumbered others became his friends. He always seemed to hold in high esteem his Deputy, Bill Nye, and Bill Nye's father, the old veterinarian, Doc Nye. In regard to making and keeping friends, he probably was no different than other sheriff's who have a desire to be the people's servant and not their master. Two stories will serve to illustrated the technique he used to induce people to observe the law. A report came to him that a family north of Roberts was making "Moonshine" whiskey at their home. He knew the family partly by reputation and, to some extent, personally. He knew of them as being a fine German family. Times were difficult and he knew that they were grasping at straws in an endeavor to meet their obligations. He got in his Dodge car alone and drove to their place. He stopped his car near the mail box and pretended that he was having car trouble. After ten or fifteen minutes he strolled to the house. He knocked on the door and was invited in. He asked them if they had any whiskey around and naturally the answer was "no". He visited for awhile and almost got drunk from the mash fumes in the house. They had broken all records getting their whiskey mash into the pig troughs in the yard. By now, the cows and pigs in the yard were staggering, and the roosters were so drunk they couldn't even crow. He smiled and they smiled, but to his knowledge that was the last of their whiskey making. They had gotten the drift. A few years ago, a man about my age told me of an experience that he had had with my Father when he was Sheriff. This man and a friend were selling "bootleg" whiskey at the Midway dances and doing quite well. One evening they saw my Father drive up in his Buick car. They immediately jumped in their car and took off with my Father in pursuit. He said he knew that the Buick could have picked them up in a short distance. My Father's deputy was with him, so it was just a matter of overtaking them. Suddenly, they saw his car slow up and turn around. My Father knew the boys, and in a few days they called into his office for a visit. His first words to them were, "If I hadn't run out of gas, I'd have caught you rascals". The fellow said he told my Father that he had sold his last whiskey. He told me he had stayed to his word. The years he served as sheriff were during the prohibition days when whiskey stills were operating in concealed places everywhere and bootlegging was an enticing practice by desperate men, but my Father always seemed to be equal to every situation that he encountered. Shortly after 1940, my Mother's health commenced to fail and on the 28th of July, 1945, she was called to leave us. All through the years, she had, to a great extent, waited on my Father "hand and foot", as the saying goes. It was not that she had to, she was just that way. We all wondered what in the world he would do, but with the help of his daughters and daughters-in-law, he got along quite well. He maintained his own house and kept it clean and orderly. I was quickly impressed by two things. First, that canned cream and creamery butter had replaced the good homemade butter and cream that my Mother had always kept. And second, that those wonderful frosted cookies that my Mother was so famous for were there no longer. As most men do under similar circumstances, during the next four years he spent many lonely days. The little girl who had peeked through the window at him back in Escalante had gone to her reward. To a great extent his family did what they could for him but as is always the case, it was his cross to bear and he bore it as well as could be expected. One thing happened that has been of some satisfaction to me. He had never ridden in an airplane, so I asked him if he'd like to go for a ride in one. He answered somewhat to my surprise, "Yes, I would sure like to go". I made arrangements with Tom Swager to take him up. Tom belonged to the Eagle Rock Flying Club in Idaho Falls. They had a fine piper cub machine, so a date was set and I had my Father at the airport on time. We asked him where he wanted to go. His answer was that he'd like to fly over his old farm in Annis. It was twenty miles away, and would take more time than a first-timer could ordinarily stand in a light plane that was buffeted about even in smooth air. Nevertheless, he went and they flew north to the big Menan Buttes, up the river and circled several times over Annis, Menan, and Lorenzo, and back over Rigby and Iona, and finally to the airport. He had a pale look when he got out of the plane. He said not to mind, that he was a little nauseated, but that he had enjoyed every second of it, and had always wanted to do just that, and wouldn't take it back for anything. He continued to express amazement at the beauty of the fields and of how the Snake River had the appearance of a silver snake as it meandered its way through Lorenzo and Annis and Menan and on into Idaho Falls. He had especially noted the beauty of the Cedar Butte Cemetery lying on the eastern slope of the Annis Little Butte. It had for many years been an area of weeds and small desert cactus with a smattering of native flowers, gopher mounds, sage brush, and cedar trees. About twenty years previous to this time, a cemetery district had been organized for the purpose of creating an irrigation system and beautifying the spot that it might be a more fitting place for the interment of their dead. He had been elected Chairman of the Board with John E. Ellis as secretary and William Allred, George L. Hart, and others as members. As he saw and reflected upon these things, of his failures along with his successes (financial and otherwise) and of the fine posterity which he had helped to create, now he knew why they had turned north from the top of Escalante Mountain. With the exception of a bad case of smallpox which partially destroyed the sight in one eye and a few bad spells of rheumatism, my Father's health through most of his life had been reasonably good. However, about 1944, he suffered a light stroke. After my Mother died in 1945, his health continued to decline until the spring of 1949. In that month a bad sick spell seriously weakened him and he died on May 19, 1949. He was buried in the family plot in the Annis Little Butte Cemetery. Following is a list of his sons and daughters who will carry on his posterity: Verna Mae - Alma Rose, husband - 12 children - Resides in Humphrey, Idaho George Leroy - Alice Goody, wife - 2 children - Resides in Annis, Idaho Thomas Eugene - Zelpha Ellis, wife - 3 children - Resides in Mesa, Arizona Grace - W. L. Price, husband - 3 children - Resides in Iona, Idaho Maxine - Dean L. Hanni, husband - 3 children - Resides in Annis, Idaho Norma - Samuel LaMar Burke, husband - 5 children - Resides in Annis, Idaho Ryland Townsend - Belva Kinghorn, wife - 4 children - Resides in Annis, Idaho Ellwood Jennings - Wanda Scott, wife - 5 children - Resides in Annis, Idaho In telling the story of my Father's life, I have left out countless stories that could be told. I have tried to be factual and yet put in what to some might seem trivial, but which I deemed necessary to tie the story together and make it interesting. I have tried to present a short story in such a way that should a stranger read the narrative, he would have a good basic understanding of the life of George Townsend Lufkin. I think that it would be desirable and appropriate for anyone to write their own story, or to add addenda sheets to this basic narrative. In compiling this history, I have utilized the help and advice of my wife, Zelpha, and my daughter, Alba Ellsworth. Also, Burt and Martha Fisher and Ross and Allie Poole have given firsthand information regarding the choir members as related in the story. I especially thank Miss Joan Ven Lieu, our office secretary, for being my typist. ***re-typed up and placed on Family Search, for the enjoyment of all, by Ronda Kay Burke Mills, Great Granddaughter of George Townsend Lufkin, through his daughter, Norma Lufkin Burke. May 2014

Norma Lufkin Life History (incomplete) - written by Norma Lufkin 25 February 1999

Contributor: Robert Mortimer Created: 2 years ago Updated: 2 years ago

I was born March 15, 1911, in Annis, Idaho, which was at that time Bingham County. It became Jefferson County in 1913 and Annis fell within its boundaries. It was quite inconvenient for my parents to travel to Blackfoot, the county seat, to transact any legal business that was required. I was the 8th child of 10 children. They were as follows: Verna May, born July 26, 1897; George Leroy, born July 29, 1899; Lavar, born July 22, 1901; all in Escalante, Utah. John Henry, born December 6, 1902, in Taylorsville, Idaho. Thomas Eugene, born December 3, 1903, in Menan, Idaho. Grace, born April 16, 1906; Maxine, born January 27, 1909; myself, Norma, born March 15, 1911; Ryland Townsend, born May 7, 1913; and Ellwood Jennings, born July 7, 1915 all in Annis, Idaho. My parents were George Townsend Lufkin and Alice Ann Heaps. My grandparents were John Townsend Lufkin and Hannah Sabina Barron, and Thomas Heaps and Susannah Goldthorpe. I was blessed on February 5, 1912 by Edwin M. Carr. My parents experienced many hardships before they were able to permanently settle on a 40 acre tract of land in 1904, which they bought from a man by the name of Fisher. Much of the land was covered in Sagebrush and several sloughs, whose banks were covered with willows, bushes, and trees. Many, many days were spent clearing the land and Dad built a two room log house and that was their first home in Annis. I was born under very humble circumstances. Grace, Maxine, and I were all born in the log house or cabin. Mother mixed a paste made out of water and flour and used a big wide brush to brush it on the logs inside the cabin and then put up a material that resembled cheese cloth. They called it whitewash. We did not have paint at that time so mother used what they called Calcimine (a thin water paint for plastering) and she would brush it on the woodwork along the windows and floor. There was no such thing as wallpaper. She put curtains and blinds on the two windows and the house was partitioned off into two sections. We did not have indoor plumbing, so had to use an outhouse. We took baths in a tub with water brought from the well and heated on the stove. We had a deep open well just a little southeast of the log house. We drew the water up in a bucket, which was lowered down into the well and pulled up by a pulley fashioned from a heavy rope that looped over a wheel. Dad hallowed out a big tree and made a trough to obtain water for the house and to water the animals. Often times the well would freeze over in the winter, making it very difficult to obtain water. When I was 2 1/2 years old Dad bought a four room house that was down by the old school house by Uncle Frank, which had been part of the first school house in Annis. Dad had it moved on to the southeast corner of the farm. It had big windows, which were a chore to keep clean. It was in this four room house that Ryland and Ellwood were born. A hand pump was put in at the well, which was a welcome change for Mother. The log cabin was turned into a grainery and still stands on the north side of the property. They lived in the four room home until 1941. Then it was moved down on the slough back on the north side of Ryland's property. It was later destroyed. We raised a big garden. Mother also raised raspberries, red currants, gooseberries, dewberries, strawberries, cherries, pears, rhubarb, and horseradish. I helped Mother process the horseradish. We had a large orchard of apple trees in the area north of the log cabin and raised several different kinds of apples. I picked a lot of fruit. Mother canned anything that was food that could be put in a bottle. She was very desirous of having good food on the table. When I was six years old I started working in the beet field. All the kids started when they were six. Dad raised quite a few beets and potatoes and my first job was to cut potato sets to plant. Then after they were planted the beets were ready to thin again. I remember crawling on my hands and knees thinning the beets and grace would block them. Maxine would do one row and I another and Grace would do the blocking. We'd just get one acre done and have to start back over on the first acre. There were rows and rows of them. We spent many a days in the beet field. We fought a lot while weeding because of boredom and would drag along and throw dirt clods at each other and clown around. (Refer to the 1985 edition of the Lufkin Legends Book for more stories about working in the fields). Dad raised peas also and when they were ripe enough for them to thresh, they would have to cut them like they did the hay. We would run a mower and a rake. Ryland, Roy, Alice, Ellwood, and I were involved in the process. Roy would mow and the others would rake and pile. We had to do it fast because the mower would come around and we had to have the pea pile moved. I think that is when I hurt my back. I was around 16-18 years old and never had a chance to stay in the house. That is why I never learned to cook. When I was in the Primer class (Kindergarten) my teacher, Lucille Jenkins, would come up next to my desk and I would just tremble. I could not think. But after I started the 1st Grade I just took off and loved school and did well. We were in the Primer class for one year and then started 1st Grade. I attended school in the old Annis School which was torn down a few years back and which all of my children attended. They added two new rooms on to the school before I started Eighth Grade. I skipped the 3rd Grade so was only in school eight years instead of nine. I was good in spelling and loved to read. When I was in the Eighth Grade, every morning the teacher would have me stand up and read a story in front of the class and I was about the only one asked to read most of the time. I attributed it to having such a good phonics teacher. My 1st grade teacher was Bertha Wyble. I could figure words out quick. When I was in the 8th Grade and at that time there were three grades in a room and one teacher, Mr. Cheney. I was in a spelling bee against the whole school. It was narrowed down to me and Johnny Christiansen. Well, they gave him the word first to spell and he missed it and so then I knew I wasn't supposed to spell it the way he did and I spelled it right. Johnny was so determined to win but I had the advantage by not having to spell the word first. He had studied so hard and he cried. I spelled the whole school down and was pretty excited about it. I felt I really didn't deserve it. I did not like math but loved spelling and reading. I used to cut potato sets in the spring for planting. We didn't have things to sit on. The potatoes were next to us and we would reach for one and had a knife to cut them and then would drop them in a bucket. When the bucket was full we would dump them in a sack. Eventually we got boards with Mother's butcher knives and they were sticking up on the end of the board or plank and we would sit on the plank and slice the potatoes through the sharp knife. We cut the potatoes in quarters. Dad had a grinder to sharpen the hay knives that they used on the mower to cut the hay behind the team of horses. I had to help Dad sharpen the knives by turning the grinder with my hands so he could hold the knives up against the stone to sharpen them. There was a big long rod with these long knives on it. I worked my head off and had to stand. It was very tiring and he would say "Come on Norma". I just hated it. It seemed like it was always my job. The games I played as a kid were Hop Scotch, Ring Around the Rosey, Jump Rope and Softball or Baseball. I played Basketball in Mutual at the Church but I was not very good. I love to watch Basketball games on the T.V. and knew who a lot of the players were and about them. I really liked Larry Bird. I also followed the High School Games when relatives from Rigby were playing. We had to walk to school about 1 1/2 miles and it was a long ways. In the winter time we went in a school wagon and it had a canvas top on it to keep the weather out. Then when the snow got too deep they would put sleighs on the wagon. When there wasn't a school wagon, the kids that lived back in the brush, the Hall's , Geisler's, Scott's, and Merrill's would walk to the corner where Aunt Alice lived on the Menan-Lorenzo Highway and meet the kids coming from the other directions; the Campbell's, Walker's, Bybee's, Ellis's, and Lufkin's. We would all congregate on that corner and walk to school. We all carried a lunch bucket and then walk back home at night. When we would pass the old Rock Church, and before it was built on to there were holes under the bottom of the church and there were holes under the bottom of the Church and there were big, long ugly water snakes under there. The boys would chase the girls with these horrible snakes. The boys got a kick out of it. They were harmless but I just hated them. That is where I learned to run.

George LeRoy Lufkin and Alice Alzina Goody

Contributor: Robert Mortimer Created: 2 years ago Updated: 2 years ago

In the spring of 1902 George Townsend and Alice Ann Heaps Lufkin disposed of their little home in Escalante, Utah, and with their three children Verna, born July 26, 1897, George LeRoy, born July 29, 1899, later known as Roy and LaVar born July 22, 1901, departed from their home they loved so much. They spent several days traveling by horse and wagon and arrived in Logan at the home of George Washington Lufkin his great grandfather, where they spent several days resting and having a good visit. After saying their good-byes they continued on and soon crossed the Utah-Idaho State line and was then in the state which would be home to them. They stopped in Inkom to an Uncle Jake Barrons home for a few days and then on to Pocatello, and then on to Fort Hall Indian Reservation. They always remember about the deep sand in the ruts and how difficult it was to travel. An Uncle George E. Lufkin had acquired a farm in the small town of Shelley and was doing quite well financially. He needed help and asked Roy's father to work for him that summer of 1902. They were provided with a place to live and and pasture for their horses, he helped them in many other ways. Jobs were hard to find in that area, especially after fall harvest was completed. The next winter they spent in Taylorsville where Roys father worked. On December 6, 1902 another son John Henry was born and he later developed croup and just over night died on January 28, 1903. This was a tragic time for the entire Lufkin family. They buried the baby in the Taylorsville cemetery. When spring came they loaded their wagons and came north, looking for Rexburg. They camped overnight in Iona and then continued on and rented a place in Menan. In the early morning of December 3, 1903, a son Thomas Eugene was born. The spring of 1904 they were able to purchase eighty acres of ground from Oliver and Joseph Fisher. John T. Lufkin (grandfather of Roy) getting the north forty arces which is now where Alice lives and George T. getting the south forty acres. In the fall of 1904 they moved to Annis where they purchased more ground and the family made permanent residence. In the fall of 1915 they purchased one hundred and sixty acres of dry farm from H.J. "Hype" Fisher. This was located up on the bench from the Snake River directly over from Burns and Blacks Canyon on the Antelope Flats. During the years of farming the dry farms Verna and Roy spent their summers there. Their mother would spend time at home preparing food for them for the next couple of weeks and then their mother and some of the children would travel to dry farm and sometimes they would spend a couple or three days with Verna and Roy. This always for a pleasure for them to get away from home and come up there. Roy spent many days plowing, harrowing and getting ground ready to plant, sometimes changing work with some of their neighbors. In the fall they always helped neighbors to get threshing done as machinery was scarce and they worked long hours to complete the harvest. Roy drove four head of horses on an ironed tired wagon loaded with grain down to Ririe. The ruts on the road were really bad and included on this trip was a very bad dugway which was dangerous. Ruts were often filled with sand, mud or dirt and the heavy loads were hard for the horses to pull and the driver had to be alert and keep his horses going. This trip was made every day and a change of horses was made every day. Roy always loved and enjoyed horses and could get a lot of hard work out of them. This was quite a responsibility for a young boy. All the farming was done with horses as tractors had not come into the picture. Brushland had to be cleared, rose bushes, hawbrushes, cottonwood trees, willows and thick underbrush had to be taken off. He worked many days with horse drawn scraper that took a good man to operate. In later years heavy equipment was manufactured and several big bull dozers was brought in and soon all the land was leveled, new ditches were built and soon a productive farm was developed and they were living in a modern world. Roy was a hard worker and had a good understanding of irrigating. He took great pride in raising a good crop, he knew that flooding and leaving the water stand on the ground was not profitable. In the fall of 1920 Roy's father, George T. Lufkin, became interest in politics and was elected sheriff of Jefferson County and served six years. During this time Roy's mother stayed at home with the family. She took care of her garden, pigs and cows and tried to keep the family all in line. His father needed to be in town so he set up sleeping quarters at the sheriff's office and came home weekends and when ever necessary. They purchased the old "Warrington Bartlet" farm of 150 acres from Eli Campbell who had recently acquired it from Bartlets. With the home place this made them 230 acres of irrigated land. With Roy being the oldest son it naturally became his responsibility to oversee the operations of the farm. They had acquired a herd of cattle; they had been assigned a range right (an area extending from Mud Creek to what was called the "Dewey Archibald" fence, which was about three miles up the river from Blacks Canyon on the north side of the Snake river. This area took in Woods Canyon, Big and Little Burns and the famous Blacks Canyon and included the "Hole in the Rock" which can be seen for many miles from the west and south. It was the job of Gene to ride after the cattle and help Roy on the farm. About the summer of 1923 or 1924 it was decided that they should get out some corral poles from Burns Canyon. Jesse Riley, their uncle, needed some corral pole too and was included in the pole gathering venture. The forest ranger assigned them a stand of nice timber a mile or two up this canyon. So about July of that year Roy and Uncle Jesse got out about 300 nice poles and dragged them down to the river, about where Burns Creek emptied into Snake river. They used the front running gear of a wagon and would pull about forty or fifty poles to a trip. The road zig-zagged back and forth across Burns creek. The poles were about thirty feet long and with the butt ends sitting on the bolster and small ends dragging behind it was quite a trick getting them there. They had to wait a couple of months until the high water was down. When they got ready to bring them down to the ranch in Annis it was decided to build a raft and with the help of Gene, Uncle Quill and Roy they proceeded to build it out of the poles. They put the butt end of the poles on the forward end of the raft and overlapped them in the middle and wired them together making a raft about fifty feet long. They used approximately two hundred poles in the raft and left the rest there until they could get them later that fall. They assembled the raft in the water of a little black eddy about two feet deep, away from the main current of the river which was fast and wicked. Gene took the team and wagon and started for home when it was completed. Roy said that when they had everything ready and he said "Let her go" it wouldn't go! It was just too heavy and sort of lodged in against the river bank and they couldn't move it. It had kinda settled down in the mud. Not much was holding it but it had to be moved forward and it was not possible for them to do it by themselves. When they discovered that Gene had left for home with the team and was down the country several miles they needed a team to pull it forward. Now they were in a fix! They knew of a large team belonging to a man by the name of Stewart who lived down around Mud Creek about five or six miles and farmed up in one of those canyons. So they went down to see him. He brought his team up and hooked on to the upper end of the raft. Instead of driving the team from the raft he stood in front and took hold of their bridles and sort of led and coaxed the horses slowly. It was shallow where they were and they had to move it only a few feet and then it would go by itself. He gradually moved it away from the bank but they pulled it a little too far and Roy said the river current caught the upper end of the raft and the first thing they knew the raft--the team and Mr. Steward were all out in the river! The water was deep so the horses were swimming and Mr. Steward was holding on to the bridles for dear life! it was a very exciting and dangerous thing but the rear end of the raft kinda hooked into the bank and caused it to make a turn so it just kept coming around until it was headed down stream and drifted in so that it brought the team back to the back of the river. It was still moving slowly and some how they quickly got the team unhooked from the raft although it was still moving forward along the river bank. The raft meandered on down about three or four hundred yards and as it got near enough to the bank Roy grabbed the strong ancher wire attached to the rear end of the raft and got to the bank where he wrapped it around a sarvice barry bush. Roy said the wire just sung and he was afraid it wouldn't hold--but it did. It was a very dangerous and close call for the team and Mr. Stewart but as Roy repeated the story many times later he always recalled that when Mr. Stewart reached the bank he still had his pipe in his mouth. About a year or so later it was Mr. Stewarts hard luck to drown in the Snake river and they later found his body at the lower end of a riffle where it had been for about a month. Roy was alone on the raft during this time and Quill was on the bank. After the excitement was over and they got reorganized Mr. Stewart left for home--I imagine thankful to be alive. Quill was unable to swim and was always afraid of water. It was the next morning before Roy and Quill untied the raft and pushed on down the river. While building the raft sweeps were built in each end to guide it. Roy was on the front and Quill on the back. Roy used to laugh and tell about that experience. They seemed to have trouble communicating and when Roy would say "Move it to the left" it would mean that Quill should turn it to his right, he would often times turn it the wrong way or go a little too far. It all made for an exciting experience as they floated on down the river, skirting "Henry's Bathtub" which was a dangerous whirl pool near Henry Zippel's log cabin--Pat Thompson's Table Rock and the Rush Beds--over Anderson's Dam which was about two feet high (just enough to give them quite a thrill). They continued on down past the Big Feeder Headgates. A couple of miles west of Heise Hot Springs they came to a place where a canal takes out to the north west, they were doing quite well until they got there. They had intended to go on down the river and possible land at Lorenzo but as they came to where the big canal took out the current pulled them toward the canal and pushed them right upon the dividing bank between the canal and the river and there the raft sat heavy and lonesome for the next month or two. There was nothing much to do but leave it there for the present. Along in November Roy and Gene went up there with two wagons. The water was low so they could cross over to the raft from the south side. They tore the raft apart and loaded the poles on the wagons and brought them down home and stacked them in the yard. There was still a wagon load of poles left up at Burns Creek so in December Roy, Gene and Bill Lufkin went up to get them. They went up through Antelope and down to the Joe Fisher ranch where they could cross the river on a gravel bar and down about one mile to Burns Creek and the north side. They loaded the poles and came out the same way--up the Fisher Dugway and past their old dry farm, down through Antelope, Butlers Island, LaBelle and the home. The poles were used in building corrals and memories of the trip have long been remembered. This story is just one of many exciting experiences that Roy had. (Alice Alzina Goody) My Grandfather, Oliver Cowdrey Fisher was born at North Fork, Jasper, Illinois April 6, 2850 and walked across the plains. His mother died and was buried in a feather tick while coming across the plains coming to Utah. Grandmother Alice Angeline Richardson Fisher was born at Ogden, Weber County, Utah, April 7, 1860. They came to Idaho in the fall of 1877 and spent winter at Willow Creek and just before New Years of 1878 they came over to "Pooles Island". They were accompanied by Joseph Fisher a brother, and my great-grandfather Albert Ebenezer Richardson. There was no snow on the ground and they staked out three farms, hauled a few logs on each and burned the dry grass and plowed a couple of rounds around each as a protection against fire and thus started their future homes. On March 16, 1878 the families were moved over. They were the first settlers in Annis. My mother Alice Jane Fisher Goody was born at Salt River Valley, Lincoln, Wyoming April 5, 1882, My grandfather, Arthur Joseph Goodey, was born at Barking, Essex, England January 27, 1851. At the age of twelve along with his ten year old brother Alma, they were put on a ship and were sent to the United States of America, and lived with members of the LDS Church and as soon as more money was raised and other members of the family came to the USA. My Grandmother Julia Alzina Myler Goodey was born in Farmington, Davis, Utah, July 25, 1852. Her parents too were early converts to the LDS Church. My father, Frank Henry Goody was born at Clarkston, Cache, Utah, May 1, 1876. Alice Alzina Goody Lufkin was born in Lewisville, Jefferson, Idaho, on July 21, 1908. At the age of two her parents moved to Idaho Falls where her father worked at the Milner Flat, Anderson Brothers Bank, and at a picture show house tending furnaces and sweeping floors. They took a cow, chickens and a team of horses. Mother sold 16 quarts of milk for a dollar and she sold eggs for 15 cents a dozen. Dad used the horses to plow garden spots for people. After a couple of years they decided to sell their home and they bought a home in Lewisville and that was our happy home, it was a two story red brick house just across the street from the home of Doad and Gertie Casper (now the Ida Thomas home). We loved it in Lewisville and when we moved back my father had a farm and then helped others plant their crops, he worked for the sugar company, took active part in community always helped with the celebrations that were put on and was Mayor of Lewisville. They rented a couple of rooms to Nimrod Good and his wife (he was principle of Lewisville school) and then too they took other teachers to room and board. When I was in the 5th grade they rented their farm and March 19, 1919 moved to Rigby and rented a house until their new black rock house at 259 North Sate street was completed. Shortly after moving into our new home my mother was contacted by school trustees to see if she would be interested in boarding some school teachers. They could find rooms for sleeping quarters but wanted to find home cooking. Mother being an ambitious lady was eager for this opportunity. I well remember having as many as 8 to 10 teachers coming to our house for dinner and supper (now lunch and dinner). Most of them would have a hot plate to cook cereal and to heat a hot drink, and that would do for their breakfast and they would come to our house for their other meals. We soon learned to love the teachers and they have been a life long friends to our family. My mother,Alice Jane Fisher Goody, had often worked at the Smitham hospital in Rigby, doing nursing and often helped in the neighborhood sickness as often help was very scarce. The doctors often called on my mother to go with them in homes when babies were born and sometimes she stayed several days with the sick. Smitham sold their hospital and my mother started taking in women when they had a baby--soon she was operating quite a full time maternity home. In all the years she took in patients there was over 800 babies born there and there was one lady who died in child birth. My father, Frank Henry Goody, had continued to work for the county road department and was assistant road supervisor and January 1,1932 he entered LDS hospital in Idaho Falls. He was operated on and did not seem to be able to get over the operation. He passed away January 20, 1932. He was loved by everyone who knew him especially the youth as he would talk and encourage them to do what was right. I graduated from Rigby High School in May of 1925. In August 1925 I was appointed Jefferson County Stenographer. In those days there was a lot of "boot leg" cases and there was one murder case in the county. I had to take dictation in shorthand (no tapes or recordings) on numerous preliminary hearings, then type up the hearings and make copies (no copying machines) just plain old carbon copies, sometimes having to make 8 to 10 copies. My starting salary was $65.00 per month and I was happy to get that. When I was 15 I was sustained as assistant secretary and then at 16 I was sustained as Secretary of Rigby 1st Ward Sunday School and held that position until I was married and moved to Annis, and was again sustained as Secretary of Annis Sunday School and served three years. Roy and I were married January 20, 1927 at the home of my parents by Pres. John W. Hart who had performed the marriage of my parents on May 1, 1901. He was then Bishop and had been a life long friend of our family. Roy continued overseeing and farming with his father and brothers Ryland and Elwood. We had purchased the north twenty acres from his father and with the home place we decided it would be best to break away and let the younger brothers take over. We bought some milk cows and in short time we were raising and selling milk, chickens and eggs. Some years we purchased 600 to 1,000 baby pullets. They usually arrived about the 10th of March. We found we had plenty to do by taking care of what we had acquired, Roy worked some for the county roads just extra when there was sand to haul of some work he could get on bridges. Doyle LeRoy Lufkin, our only son was born December 12, 1930 at my mothers maturnity home in Rigby. He was his fathers shadow for several years, during that time he learned to take care of animals and to farm. Roy was a natural with animals and kids. He loved them and knew how to handle them both. He took great pride in his horses and was an excellent horseman. It was a great thrill to watch him step up on the tongue of the wagon loaded with beets, settle his horses and then when everything was just right, he would talk to them in a loud voice, and then these horses would dig down, bellies nearly to the ground and together they would heave and pull that huge load out of the deep mud and on the road. The love between driver and horse was deep and sincere. They trusted each other. Later when Doyle was about 12, Roy would turn the lines over to Doyle and down the road Doyle would go to the beet dump with a big load of beets. Doyle learned well from his father and they worked together on many projects. They had several teams that won prizes at the fair for being the best in showing and fitting and best in quality. They enjoyed being in parades and usually Roy turned the driving over to Doyle as he too was a capable driver. Alice LaPreal Lufkin was our only daughter born May 14, 1934 at my mothers maturnity home in Rigby. She too was a great joy and treasurer to our family. She took piano lessons several years; when she was 12 years old she had polio, she had 3 cousins who had polio at the same time. It was by her exercising her legs and arms (playing ball) that she over came polio. They attended Annis grade school, Doyle graduating from Midway and LaPreal graduated from Rigby as Midway burned down. They both loved to play baseball, basket ball. Doyle was active in Future Farmers of America; LaPreal played soft ball with Idaho Falls Rockettes several years. We all loved sports and supported our schools in everything. Roy was a trustee for Annis School district #49 for 3 terms. He was President YM/MIA. He spent time helping in other civic activities in the church. He helped haul the rock for addition on old Annis Church and help in some of building. (Note from typist: a whole line was lost due to copying) Roy was a conservative Republican and served many years as judge of election in Annis precinct. He loved to sing and he took part in plays and programs in the ward. Roy loved to read, give him a good book, history, and especially Reader's Digest, sports on Babe Ruth and many others, Doyle and Carma Kaye Dustin were married June 23, 1950 in the LDS Temple in Idaho Falls. In the fall of 1950 we decided to build a new home. Roy looked forward to having a modern home, he had never lived in a home with a bathroom. Just the old tin tub but we did have running water in the kitchen. Doyle had made a trip to Montana where he brought back a big load of lumber. The cement was in the garage to start to build. Lyle Peterson, a brother-in-law had consented to build the house. Arrangements had been made for moving the old house. The day we were to start on the house Roy was injured in an accident on September 27th and he passed away on October 3rd, 1950 in the LDS hospital in Idaho Falls. After Roys death Doyle farmed and took care of things and has always been such a big help. LaPreal has always been a big help, she could do almost anything that a man could do. We had our cows and chickens and we all worked together. October 8, 1951, I was appointed Treasurer of Jefferson County and held that position until 1979. LaPreal was married to Guy W. Hinckley August 20, 1952 in the LDS Temple in Idaho Falls, Idaho. They spent some time working for Mountain Bell living in Salt Lake City, Utah, Wyoming, and Arizona, later being transferred to Rigby area or district and they have their home in Annis. I was active in our church, teaching Sunday school, President and Counselor in the MIA, serving on the Stake MIA board for over twenty years; holding all the different offices in the Rigby Business and Professional Womens Club; I was Vice President of the Rigby Park and Rodeo Association and representing them in District meetings. I served all the offices in the State Treasurers Association and in 1962 went to Washington D.C. to County Officers Meeting. While there I went on to New York City to the worlds fair. I have served as Secretary and Treasurer of Jefferson County Republican Central Committee for over 30 years. Since retiring from office of Jefferson County Treasurer and Tax Collector I have enjoyed being retired. Have kept busy. Worked in the Spanish Extraction program in Menan Stake. I have enjoyed my nine grandchildren and 22 great grand children. I am very proud of them they are all ambitious. (I tell them work never hurt anyone.) I want them all to be proud of their names and to remember who they are.They have talents and develop them. Use them or they will lose them. (Originally typed up by Alice Alzina Goody Lufkin - date unknown) (Re-typed up by Ronda Kay Burke Mills to be put on Family Search April 21, 2014 for all to enjoy. I was given a copy of this life history by my Aunt Ava LaRue Burke Dennis whose mother is Norma Lufkin, George LeRoy Lufkins sister.)

Short History of George Townsend Lufkin and Alice Ann Heaps

Contributor: Robert Mortimer Created: 2 years ago Updated: 2 years ago

George Townsend Lufkin was born at Panaca,Lincoln, Nevada, on 2 June, 1876, the 2nd child and son of John Townsend Lufkin and Hannah Sabina Barron. His father's work, at that time, was hauling ore from Pioche to Bouillionville, Nevada. When George was one year old, the family moved to Washington, Utah, a little settlement about 5 miles northeast of St. George. Hannah's father, Alexander, had acquired a large ranch known as the Shivwitz/Parashant Ranch in what is known as the Arizona strip about 50 miles south of St. George. The family spent their time alternately between the ranch helping Alexander and Washington until George was seven years old (1877-1883). In the spring of 1883, the family sold out at Washington and moved to Salt Lake City to operate a ranch seven miles west of Salt Lake or as they called it, "Over Jordan". After operating the ranch for two years and following a lawsuit, his father became discouraged and moved the family back to Washington. By this time George T. was about nine years old and he and his Uncle Owen Barron drove about 30 head of horses from Salt Lake to Washington, a distance of about 300 miles, which was quite a big job. George at the age of seven had also helped drive the same herd of horses with his Uncle George Eastman Lufkin when they made the move from Washington to Salt Lake. The family lived in Washington for a couple of years and then they decided to move to Escalante, Utah instead of Arizona. They made this move in June 1887, when George was eleven years old. It was here that he grew to manhood and met and courted his future wife, Alice Ann Heaps. Alice Ann was born in a dug-out on 20 November, 1876, the first white baby girl born in Escalante. She was blessed 7 January, 1877 and baptized 2 July, 1885 bu Joseph Barney and confirmed by Edmund Davis the same day. George first saw Alice Ann, then eleven years old and her sister, Lillie during the summer of 1887 when the Lufkin family camped in Thomas Heaps yard. From a distance they caught each others eye through the window of the house and Alice remarked to her sister Lillie, "Do you see that black-eyed boy out there? Someday I'm going to marry him." George lived with his grandfather, George Washington Lufkin, in Salt lake City, and attended school there from September 1887 to the spring of 1888. He really missed Alice Ann however. The summer of 1889 George rode the cattle range with Lem Young. He broke horses to ride and rode them on the Escalante range, which was about 20 miles west of Escalante and running north and east about 50-60 miles. What schooling he got was completed there and he later herded sheep. He was considered by some of the older folks to be quite a rowdy young fellow but never got into any trouble except of a playful nature. He liked to sing and dance and in the evenings could generally be heard from one end of town to the other, so they said. Alice's father, Thomas, had made several trips to Idaho, and on one of these trips, in the spring of 1896, he took Alice along to do the cooking and hired George, who was then 20 years old, to help him drive the stock. The trip required about 30 days from Escalante to Rexburg, a distance of about 560 miles. They told of camping at Blackfoot on 24 July, 1896, and at Idaho Falls on the night of July 25th, at Adam Sauer's ranch in Grant on 26th July, and near the Lorenzo bridge on July 27th. They turned the cattle loose to graze near Pincock's springs and continued on to Victor, where they stayed for about three days. George and Alice Ann were sweethearts and engaged to be married. They remained in Rexburg until September. Thomas needed to stay with the cattle but George and Alice Ann wanted to return to Utah alone. So to prevent undue scandal they were married in Rexburg, Madison, Idaho on 22 September, 1896, with her father serving as a witness. They then left for Utah in their covered wagon and upon arriving in Logan, Utah, they went through the temple and were sealed for time and eternity on 30 September, 1896. Genealogy records show George was also baptized that same day. They returned to Escalante and herded sheep, worked on schoolhouse construction, carried the mail from Escalante to Panguitch on his two favorite horses, Roscoe and Yaller through all kinds of weather and nearly froze to death on one trip in the winter. He rode after stock for his father and other all over the many miles of cattle range around Escalante. There wasn't much to do in their spare time so he was a member of the town "whittlers". They rented a small house from Bill Hall and it was in this small house their first three children were born; Verna Mae was born in 1897, George LeRoy (Roy) in 1899 and LaVar in 1901. They were bother civic and church minded and participated in all community and ward activities. They both liked to sing and sang in the ward choir. They loved Escalante, but had seen the Snake River Valley in Idaho. In 1902 they left in a covered wagon traveling over the Escalante mountains. After 10 days they arrived in Logan at George's grandparents home, George Washington and Martha Ann Lufkin. They stayed a few days and then traveled on stopping to see relatives along the way. George's Uncle, George Eastman Lufkin, lived on a farm in Shelley, Idaho and when they stopped to see him he asked George to be his hired man for the summer of 1902. He provided them a place to live and pasture for their animals. George worked in the hay and potato fields and harvested grain in the fall. Jobs were hard to find in this area but George had become acquainted with many people and got a job in Taylorsville east of Shelley. On 6 December, 1902 another son was born to them named John Henry. He died six weeks later of pneumonia and was buried there. A couple months later they loaded their wagon and headed north again. They continued on to Menan, Idaho where they rented a small farm with a good brick house on it from a man by the name of Rube Scott. He operated this farm and worked for other farmers whenever work was available. Sometime during the fall of 1903, his father, John Townsend Lufkin, had sold out in Escalante, Utah. They too had decided that Idaho was the place to live. On 3 December, 1903 in the early morning hours, a son, Thomas Eugene (Gene) was born in Menan. It was on this same day that John T. and son George traveled to Idaho Falls with John and Ike Fisher in a white-topped buggy to close out the purchase of an 80 acre farm in Annis from the Fisher Brothers. George was to get the south forty acres and John T., his father the north forty, which already had a log house on it. George rented a house known as the "Gerard House", which was located 1/4 mile south of the farm. In the fall of 1904 they moved to Annis, which was 4 miles east. Much of the land was covered with sagebrush and several sloughs, whose banks were covered with willows, bushes and trees. They cleared a lot of trees and brush, then scraped and leveled the land and filled in some of the sloughs using Miskin scrappers pulled by a team of horses. Ditches had to be dug in order to irrigate the land. It was a lot of work and took several years to accomplish. They didn't actually move the family up to the farm. They lived in a large tent on the slough bank in the shade of some trees across the road from Jim and Maud Scott.. He hauled the logs down in a wagon from the Joe Fisher-Eli Campbell saw mill in Blacks Canyon crossing the Snake River on a ferry. The house was never divided into rooms. Alice Ann decorated the walls and ceiling with factory (fabric) cloth and lime. There was a cook stove in the southeast corner, and a window in the south end. There weren't any windows on the north side, but there was a window on the west side toward the north corner. Verna was eight years old, Roy was six and Gene was about 18 months old. Their son, LaVar at the age of four had died from drowning in June 1905 in the ditch that was across the street from the Gerard House. George also built a log barn and a small granary. The log house still stands on the farm today. (2014) Grace was born in the log cabin in April 1906 about a year after it was built. Maxine was born there in January 1909 and Norma was born there in March 1911. A midwife performed the deliveries. There was no electricity so they used an oil burning lantern with a wick for light in the house and also in the barn for miking. They didn't have indoor plumbing, so used an outhouse. They took baths in a galvanized tub with water brought from the well and heated on the stove. George farmed and with the help of all the children through the years they harvested beets, potatoes, and other crops. The kids did a lot of weeding in the fields. In the spring of 1911, shortly after Norma was born George and his brother, Frank, bought the old Annis school house from the school district. Frank took part of it and George moved his part to the farm. It took several horses to pull the heavy 'A' framed building the mile and one-quarter distance. It was placed in the southwest corner of the farm and after some remodeling they moved in. Alice Ann decorated the walls with pretty wallpaper and painted the woodwork to correspond. It wasn't modern but was quite a step up from the one room log house. On 7 May, 1913, a son, Ryland Townsend was born. This is the first time Alice Ann was attended for by a doctor. There were problems and doctor gave him up for dead laying him aside to attend to her but she wouldn't settle for that and she worked with him until he was revived. Another son, Ellwood Jennings, was born 7 June, 1915, which completed the family of ten. Alice Ann was a dedicated Latter-day Saint and served in many capacities, namely, Relief Society counselor for two years from 1905-1907 and then was President for ten years from 1907-1917. In April 1919 she was put in as a counselor again. She was a class teacher, visiting teacher and member of the choir. Alice Ann could sew real well and took a correspondence course and made clothes for burials or for the family of people who had died. She and others prepared them for burial because morticians had not taken over in this area. She sewed clothes for her children and also made quilts. She was very meticulous about her quilts. She was a wonderful cook and made homemade chicken with noodles, homemade bread and biscuits. She fed many people in her life time. She made wonderful butter. It was wrapped in paper with her name printed on the wrappers. She sold it to Broulin's grocery store to help buy groceries. She was a midwife for many years and delivered babies all hours of the night. She did her washing on a wash board. She milked the cows and did numerous tasks in a day. She rose early each day. She did a lot of canning and picked fruit from the apple orchards on the farm. She demanded good work from her girls and taught them how to clean, wash dishes and cook. Times were hard, George, with the help of some neighbors did a good job butchering or dressing out beef and pork. He and Alice Ann would cut up the meat and she would salt and cure the hams, side pork and shoulders. The waste fat was used to make soap. In the fall of 1915, George purchased 160 acres of dry farm land from Hype Fisher. It was located about Heise Hot Springs. A one room log house sat on it. The family all helped in the farm work and kept things going on the farm at Annis. In 1920 George decided to run for Jefferson County Sheriff and was elected under the Republican party. He was Sheriff from January 1921 to December 1926 (three terms). He wasn't around much those six years. Alice Ann had to keep things running on the farm as George lived in Rigby at the courthouse and would come home on weekends. He drove a Buick car as Sheriff. In the summer of 1923 George purchased the Warrington Bartlett place, which consisted of 150 acres. It was located across the Menan-Lorenzo highway on the east side north of the property he already owned. All the farming was done by horse drawn machinery as tractors were not yet in the picture. They raised peas on the Bartlett place and everyone who could were involved in the process. George also farmed wheat and oats. George loved to be pampered so Norma would on occasion pick his blackheads on his face and do a pedicure on his feet on Sundays. Alice Ann was not an affectionate woman and never said she loved her children but they knew she did. On 23 May, 1941 George purchased house #4 from the Utah-Idaho Sugar Company north of Rigby. It was moved to the Annis farm and sat on wooden stilts north of the school house while Jack Olsen, Beulah Scott's husband, built the concrete foundation to set it on. It was placed on the south side of the school house on 15 September, 1941. George bought the house for $700.00 at 6% interest rate. It had two bedrooms, bathroom, kitchen and living room. It had a large porch on the front and small windows. It was painted yellow with white trim. The old school house was later moved down on the bank of the slough north of Ryland's and was later destroyed. They lived in the factory house until their deaths. George's daughter, Norma and her husband Samuel LaMar, purchased the home in 1950 and lived there 48 years. They were both hard workers. Alice Ann got pneumonia about two years before she died and never fully recovered. Alice Ann died of a blood disease (anemia) which caused cancer of the spleen at the age of 68 on 28 July, 1945. George died of dropsy (Congestive Heart Failure) at the age of 72 on 19 May, 1949. They both died at their home in Annis and are buried in the Annis Little Butte Cemetery. They left a large posterity they can be very proud of. (This was originally taken from original histories written by their children, Gene, Norma and Maxine.) *Originally typed up by Ava LaRue Burke Dennis in August 2000 for the book "Thru the Years With Six Generations of Family Lufkin/Townsend/Heaps a History 1795-1953" *Re-Typed up and put on to Family Search on 19 April, 2014 by her niece, Ronda Kay Burke Mills for all to enjoy.

Life Story of Maxine Lufkin Hanni 1909-1990 written by Maxine Lufkin Hanni August 1983

Contributor: Robert Mortimer Created: 2 years ago Updated: 2 years ago

My birthplace was a one room log cabin on the family farm at Annis, Idaho. Born to George T. Lufkin and Alice Ann Heaps Lufkin the seventh of ten children. As related to me by my Mother, when I was only a few months old I contracted smallpox. The mortality rate was high from this disease, but I recovered without any ill effects. My Father administered to me and my parents had faith that I would recover. When I was about three and a half years old, my cousin, Byron Young, who lived a quarter of a mile north, came with his Father to our home. He was near my age and at that time we considered ourselves sweethearts. My Mother gave us each a slice of bread and jam and hand in hand we went on our way outside to play. There were other children playing the yard so we walked out to join them. As we neared the barn, the big sow, that had just given birth to a litter of pigs, ran toward us. She grabbed my hand that was holding the bread and drew blood. This excited her and she dragged me to the edge of a slough that ran along the south side of the yard. She decided that was the place to make the kill, so she let go of my hand and started chewing on my body. I was on an incline and started rolling, she tried to grab me in the middle. In the meantime, the screams of the other kids brought my Mother and Uncle Arthur Young running. He grabbed a club and beat the sow off. They took me to the house and bandaged my hand and it seems like they poured turpentine over it for disinfectant. I remember so well Mother setting me up to the table and fixing some tea and toast to settle my nerves. I was quite shaken up. Byron sat beside me and sympathized, which helped! I'm still carrying the scars. At age four we moved into a new home just a few yards south of the log house. It was part of the first school house built in Annis. The folks bought it from the school district, moved it onto their property and remodeled it. It was new to the family. We felt we had made a step up. A short time later my brother, Ryland, was born and for the first time, my Mother had a doctor in attendance (always before just a midwife). The following is a letter written to my brother, Eugene: Dear Gene: "I'm reminded of a couple of incidents concerning Dad and myself. I often think of his humor and fun making in his younger years, and reading that history brought to mind the following events that I'll relate to you. As you know, kids used to be sort of kept in line - to a degree - by that threat that the Devil would get us if we did wrong or didn't obey our parents, etc. He was described as being a ghastly figure with a stovepipe hat. Well, you remember that small three cornered piece of ground east of the yards and bordering the slough that ran through the yard. It grew tall weeds every summer. One fall evening when I was nine or ten years old, a spooky age, the weeds were especially tall, dried, and gray appearing, and as I tripped along the path from the barn to the house, I heard a noise in the weeds to my left. Looking in that direction, I discovered a stovepipe rising from the midst of that patch of weeds accompanied by weird sounds. I immediately identified it as Satan, and with my hair on end, I fairly leaped through the air reaching the house in nothing flat. Hardly waiting to open the door, I rushed inside breathless, pale, and wide-eyed, and related what had taken place. You can imagine how Mother reacted! It was funny to everyone but me! Dad had succeeded in frightening me and got a big laugh out of it, much to my chagrin! On one of those trips to the dry farm, (this time it being Dad, Norma and I, that were on the road) as I recall, we had gone down to the Valley for supplies and to check on what was going on at the home place. We girls considered it quite a lark as we didn't get to travel much. On our return, the road took up through Butler's Island where we stopped at noon to eat a campfire lunch and to rest the horses at the usual stopping place. Norma and I, although we were only about six and eight, helped spread out the food and get it ready to eat. I'll never forget how Dad tried to make us feel important by giving us a word of praise for our efforts. Continuing on our way, the next stop came at the Poplar General Store, owned by G.P. Firr. Dad let us go in with him. We were timid but curious, and that store looked to us as if it had everything in it. What pleased us most was the big sack of candy he bought to take along, and after he'd exchanged thoughts of the day with the storekeeper, we got on our way again. That sack of candy was of great interest to us girls, but Dad told us we'd have to get down on our hands and knees and lick on a block of stock salt that was on the floor of the wagon box. Each time we got a piece of candy, we were required to go through the same little act. It was quite a game which we all enjoyed. Soon the hills were appearing. It was a good view and a pleasant feeling. There was the steady rhythm of the horses' footsteps and the noises of the wagon reverberating against the mountain background. He sang several songs, but the one that impressed me most was "Hard Times Come Again No More". We reached Antelope and the dry farm about dusk, tired but filled with pleasant thoughts of the day. To two little girls of six and eight years, it was a great trip, a memorable one. Our Dad was the greatest! We had complete confidence in him." Love, Maxine From the time I was big enough to push the treadle on a sewing machine, I wanted to sew. Mom let me make doll dresses for experience. I observed her methods. Out of necessity, she made all us girls dresses, as well as her own. She was a very good teacher, very fussy and methodical: as pertaining to her dressmaking. When I was in the sixth grade (12 years old), and about two or three weeks before school started in the fall, Mother bought several pieces of material to make up, but before she could get started on her project, she received word that her Mother, Susannah Goldthorpe Heaps had died (August 1922). She immediately made preparations to go to Escalante, Utah, where Grandma Heaps lived. We girls received instructions prior to her leaving, as to how to take care of the house. I decided to make myself a dress, thinking it would be good to help out. My first attempt at that, but the results were pretty good. I wasn't sure whether I'd be praised or reprimanded, but I took that chance. It was a challenge. Well, Mother accepted it, therefore, I continued to make many of my own clothes. At about twelve or thirteen we walked to and from school when the weather was good and when we were turned loose at 4:00 p.m., my sister, Norma and I would race home to gather the eggs. Mom raised quite a few chickens and gathering eggs was something we enjoyed doing. We were always anxious to find out how many eggs the hens had produced each day. In my haste to get to the nests in the barn first, I jumped over the side of the manger and scraped my left leg down the inside on a large nail sticking out of the board, opening up a big gash in my leg. I didn't get to a doctor, Mother just disinfected it, put on a bandage and let it heal when it would. It was sore for a while, but that didn't stop my activities. My interest in sewing lead me to build some small quilting frames and so I proceeded to make me a doll quilt. Quilting seemed to be a fascinating art and after growing up, I helped Mother make many. We never made fancy ones, just everyday quilts that were plain and serviceable. My sisters, Grace and Norma, never took any interest in sewing until later, they were more the outdoors type. They loved to swim and they put me to shame because I was afraid of water. I don't know what caused it, but I've never been able to shake that fear. I built a little cupboard that Norma and I used in our playhouse while we herded cows' barefooted. We managed to play to take away the boredom. Sometimes we'd become so involved we'd forget the cows, then there was "heck to pay"! I don't remember what became of that little cupboard, but Norma tell me now that she became angry with me, carried it up on the beet dump that used to be on the farm and dropped it off. That took care of the cupboard. If I knew she was telling the truth, I'd get even with her yet (not really). Vengeance at this point wouldn't be very satisfying. My red hair was a source of aggravation. I associated freckles with it, and my face was plastered with those unsightly spots. Consequently, I detested the combination. When I was twelve years old, Dad was elected Sheriff of Jefferson County and in his travels over the area, he met up with someone that had a billy goat for sale and thinking his kids would enjoy having one, he made the purchase. Billy, as we called him, was a source of enjoyment as well as of chagrin. At times he was fun, other times, we wanted to kill him! I decided to train him to pull me on our hand sleigh. We didn't have a harness but I fashioned one out of scraps of some sort. The big problem was making a bit for the bridle. I figured that was the best way to control him. As a last resort I whittled a wooden one and spent a great deal of time shaping it. When it was completed, I harnessed the goat and put on his bridle, but before I could get organized to try him out, he'd chewed up the bit and there went the controls! I wasn't going to let him get away with that, so I led him for some distance down the road, then headed toward home, jumped on the sleigh and away we went. We headed for the open gate but he suddenly decided to go under the fence and I remained on the outside in the snow. Well, that was enough of that! I turned to our family horse called "Flax" (just had to have some means of traveling). So I built a toboggan for him to pull and I traveled all over Annis on it. I even peddled garden seeds and salve to earn some money. I recall some of the people who were kind to me. I felt sometimes they bought my wares just to help me out. I remember getting a set of dishes and a bedspread for Mother as premiums. At that time I received much satisfaction from salesmanship, because no one slammed a door in my face. I loved to ride horses. A neighbor girl, Annie Scott, wanted to ride a horse to her cousin, Effie Ellis' place. The had plans to go some place with the family. She asked me if I would go with her to Ellis' place and bring her horse back home. Of course, I jumped at the chance. The mare was a gentle work animal and I had no fear of her. A deep drain ditch had been made along the fence line from about where Grant Bybee lives to our big gate. A big pipe took that water under the road to the slough on the west side. There was a beaten path between the fence and the drain. That's where I chose to travel. The mare was walking slowing along this path when a cat leaped out of some bushes just ahead of us. It startled her and she took off running. She was so fat and round, my legs stuck out and no chance to cling to her sides, and pulling on the reins had no effect, so I just took a hold of her mane and hoped for the best. Mom happened to be outside and saw what was going on. She could only stand helplessly watching. As we passed by, I could see she had a look of terror. The mare had to jump the drain to get onto the road and when she landed some man, who saw what was happening, grabbed the reins and stopped her. I think it scared a year's growth out of me! Another time I went somewhere on a long-legged brown mare that Dad owned. On returning, when we reached the intersection where Alice lives, she became anxious to get home in a hurry. She started running. I had no control, therefore, gave up and held on to her mane for dear life. The big gate was open and she swirled in. I should have left her there, but I had a death grip on that mane. She headed for the open barn door and I ducked as we went through. Of course, she had to come to a dead stop and how I escaped going over head and landing against the back wall, I'll never know. I don't recall ever riding her again. One summer day when I was about thirteen, a group of us kids (boys and girls) decided to go for a horseback ride. We were short of horses, therefore, some of us had to double up. A boy (Alma Clark) and I shared the same horse. He rode behind so I was in control, but I lost it all of a sudden and we found ourselves on the ground. I landed on my back and he on his head, causing him to be "coo coo" for a time. It gave me such a jar I can feel it yet! The road was graveled and as hard as pavement. Prior to this incident, I spent much time riding horses, but that ended all desire to have anything to do with them. They seemed so big and powerful and could go berserk on occasion, if they became excited. This fear has stayed with me always and I worried a lot when my kids rode horses. Our closest neighbors were Jim and Maud Scott. They had two daughters, Annie, who was Gene's age and Beulah, was between Norma and I in years. They seemed like sisters, only we didn't fight with them. We had many happy times together. The folks had a Model "T" Ford and one Sunday afternoon they happened to be gone, probably left with someone else. Anyway, the Ford was sitting in the yard. I had a great desire to drive that thing. Since I'd lost my interest in horses, a mobile outfit was my next interest. I had observed how it was started. Cranking was the usual way, but I didn't have strength for that. There was another way, if one could get it on an incline and get it to rolling, the engine would start. Norma, Beulah and I were looking for some excitement.I told them if they'd help me get that thing started I'd take them for a ride. I had never driven a car and how they trusted me that far is beyond me. Anyway, we got it on a down hill slant and I got behind the wheel. They pushed and lo and behold the motor started! They jumped in and away we went down the road. I didn't know how I was going to turn around so I just kept going. We went around the north side of the Little Butte. When we got to Eli Campbell's place. I decided to try turning it around. I was traveling slowly so I took off down the gutter on the right, up on the road and into the gutter on the other side. The vehicle was still right side up and I was headed home. We made it back to the original landing and I turned the key in the ignition and the motor died. I don't remember the penalty, if there was one. In those days we had to make our own fun, so we used our imaginations. Another of my hair-raising experiences with horses happened when I was about fifteen. It was in the summer at hay hauling time. My brother, Roy, was the teamster, and was driving a foxy team hitched to a flatbed wagon. It had a frame work on the front to anchor the hay. We left Dad's place with all the help we could get, including Grandpa John T., Uncle Quill, and Aunt Maggie. I don't recall anyone else. Anyway, all except Roy were sitting around the edge of the rack dangling our feet. There were several pitchforks, (tools of our trade) lying in the center. We were headed down to Uncle Quill's place for a load of hay. He lived a short distance back of the Annis store. as we were passing Lyle Scott's place, a black and white Shetland pony ran out to the road, startling the horses and they took off running wildly. Uncle Quill jumped up to help Roy get them under control but Roy said "no, don't do it, the lines might break"! Well those horses pulled back their ears and ran as if to save their lives. They made it to the Little Butte. Roy guided them to the side a ways hoping it would settle them, but when they got turned around they started back running fast as ever. By the time they got near the Annis store, Roy had them under control. He stopped to let us off and get our bearings. That's where I discovered I'd lost my freckles! I was told that I was white as a ghost. That was a very frightening experience. We had nothing to cling to, just bounced around with the pitchforks on that flatbed, wondering about our fate. About the year 1925, Aunt Susie (Dad's sister) and her husband, Ed Derville, who lived in Idaho Falls, made occasional trips up to Annis to see the folks, during the warm sunny days, just to go for a drive. Uncle Ed was a pianist and played at a theater during the "silent films" days. The owner had to furnish his own music to fit the film. Uncle Ed was sort of interested in our family, thus he offered Dad a used a piano if he would transport it, an offer too good to pass up. I was anxious to learn to play, so when Fall came and I moved into Rigby to go to high school, I persuaded the folks to let me take lessons. Of course, I had to do all my practicing on week ends. I was very enthused about it, but after I'd taken six lessons, my music teacher moved away. She gave me some books to study and I took it from there. I never got another lesson, however, I learned enough by myself to play popular sheet music and church hymns, not proficiently, but well enough to entertain myself and the family. At times, all the man folk gathered around the piano and harmonized. Dad sang bass, Quill and Uncle Jess sang Tenor, while Roy and Gene filled in with the lead. Some of the favorites were, "Down by the Old Mill Stream", "I'll Take You Home Again Kathleen" and "Rock of Ages". Talk about a barber shop quartet! We had it! When I got married this all ended. I rarely got a chance to play after that. During my years in elementary school in Annis, I contracted most of the diseases that came along, like measles, chicken pox, and whooping cough. After my second year in high school at Rigby and soon after the term ended, I developed St. Vitis Dance. I was troubled all summer with that, but I started my Junior year in the fall and in the coming months, this malady turned into Rheumatic Fever, making life quite miserable for me. However, I managed to get by until the holidays, when I decided I'd have to quit school, at least temporarily, but I was afflicted with that problem for two years and didn't get back to school. This was a very depressing period in my life. I decided to try to earn some money. At that time picking peas was the only thing open, unless one had special training. I worked at that for part of two winters. I missed many days of work because of being too miserable to face the day, however, I was able to retain my job, despite the absenteeism. In the spring, when I was twenty, I got a chance to work at Big Springs Inn in the Island Park area. The Hanni's owned it, that's how I made connections. Sylvia is my Mother's Niece, so I was made part of the family. I saved my money and prepared to enter Henager's Business College in Salt Lake in the fall. After buying some clothes I had enough money to pay for three months of secretarial courses. The depression was on and when my money ran out I had to quit. My folks were having financial problems, trying to pay for a farm and money was very tight. Though I never got to complete my course, the experience was invaluable. The next spring I went back to Big Springs to work. The Hanni's second son, Dean and I fell in love and on September 1, 1931 his parents took us to Bozeman, Montana where we were married. I continued to work until the season ended, then his folks left for the winter, leaving Dean and I to take care of the Inn. We came down to the valley and bought a supply of groceries for the winter. Before we returned, my folks gave a reception in our honor. Mu brother, Roy and his wife Alice, had the party at their house. We received many nice gifts and the ones that are left I treasure very much. We returned to the Inn on the 10th of November and soon after, we were snowed in for the winter. That was a romantic setting. I loved the mountains, pines and seclusion. We spent our days skiing and driving the dogs by sled. Dean had nine of them and they were something to feed! I made many dog biscuits that winter. Bud Heaps stayed at the Inn too and the only other people within two miles were the Forest Ranger and his wife. It was two miles to the post office at Guild, Idaho. We went there by dog sled. There was always plenty to do, so we never got lonesome. In February Dean drove the dogs to Ashton to take part in the races on February 22nd. I came out with the mail carrier, who traveled by horse and a covered sled. It took two days to make the trip, requiring us to stop over one night at Last Chance Inn. After attending the races, we left the dogs at Ashton and drove his Dad's car, which was stored there, down to Annis. After staying with my folks for a few days, we drove back to Ashton. We left the car there and picked up the dogs. We headed for Big Springs by dog sled. I sat in the basket, while Dean stood on the back and mushed the dogs. We made it to the Railroad Ranch the first day and were able to stay there that night, then continued on to Big Springs the following day. That proved to be quite a lark. The dogs traveled so fast at times, I had to cover my face to keep from being hit by snowballs. After standing on the back of that sled for fifty miles, Dean was plenty tired, so were the dogs. Dean seemed so strong and able to take care of any situation, I had complete confidence in him. We were all glad to get back to the mountains and our little haven. In March of 1932, I discovered I was pregnant. I was happy about the prospects of having a little one. Dean was working for his Dad in the timber and we'd planned to remain there with his folks, but about May or June he and his Dad had a falling out, therefore, we couldn't stay there any longer. It was a real let down for me. Out of desperation I called my Dad and asked if we could stay with them for a while. He sent his truck with my brother, Ryland to move our belongings. There wasn't any available jobs, just an odd job or two, so Dean mostly helped on the farm, while I helped Mother in the house. They raised a big garden and we did a lot of canning. The depression was in full force, people had very little money. Dean worked in the hay for 10 cents an hour, ten hours a day. Another fellow came along and offered to work for 75 cents a day. That's how desperate conditions were. On December 8, 1932, a baby boy was born to us and we named him Val Dean. That winter was the coldest and worst on record in this area. The thermometer went down to fifty degrees below zero, splitting many shade trees and damaged fruit trees. Cars were unable to operate, so the only means of travel was by horses and sleighs, there was no equipment for opening roads, like we have today. The only entertainment was homemade. Groups of young married's would get together one night a week, play cards and have lunch. There were some real card sharks developed from these parties. Lots of fun was created with little cost. In the spring Dean got a chance to join the three C's (Civilian Conservation Corps), which was organized by President Franklin Delano Roosevelt, to take young men off the streets and give them a job, helping to clean up the forest and build roads. One couldn't buy a job, they were that scarce. Anyway, Dean went with them out to Salmon and that's where he was stationed for three months. The baby and I stayed with the folks while he was gone. Grandpa John T. Lufkin stayed with them too, part of the time and was like another woman around the house, helping my Mother in every way he could. He and I washed dishes together, also prepared apples and corn for drying, and many other chores. In so doing, we had pleasant conversations. He related many experiences that were most interesting. Grandpa Lufkin lived a rugged but clean life, adhering to the teachings of his religion, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. He was faced with many obstacles and reverses, but remained strong throughout his life. Being the only grandparent I was privileged to know, made him very special. When the CCC project was finished in the Salmon area, (it taking three months to complete), the camp was moved, but Dean came home to help with harvesting. When Val Dean was eleven months old (November 1933), Dean's Father asked him to come back to Big Springs, so we decided to move. It was a sad day for my folks and it brings tears to my eyes every time I think of it. My Dad and Mother had grown to love our little baby boy as their own, only to have him snatched away. My Dad just disappeared when it came time to say goodbye. Mother was tearful eyed, but tried to be brave. I shed tears for many miles, as it seemed so cruel in what we were having to do. During that winter, Val Dean developed a skin rash all over his head. When the first train came through to open the rail road from Ashton to West Yellowstone, I boarded it on the return trip to Big Springs and went down to see my folks. They took me and the baby to Rexburg to see a doctor, who diagnosed the condition as an allergy and prescribed treatment that cleared it up soon. I was able to spend a few days with my family before returning home. This was in April, the roads were dry and dusty, in contrast to three feet of snow at Big Springs. Dean missed us a lot and we were welcomed with open arms. Going back a bit: I am two years older than my sister Norma, but I felt much older. We did a lot of things together, however, sometimes she got in my way and I complained to Mother. I couldn't see why my younger sister had to be included in my group. It wasn't until we grew up that I learned to appreciate her, then we became real close. My sister, Grace, was three years older than I. I admired her clothes and looked forward to the day when I'd become big enough to wear her castoffs, sometimes I took over before I was entirely ready. She was quite a bit larger because of the age gap, so I got mighty impatient. I felt much bigger than Norma when I could wear Grace's clothes, which helped my ego. I'm ashamed now for my behavior toward my younger sister. Mother would tell of her devotion toward her sister, but that didn't phase me. I think it was natural behavior in that situation. At least I consoled myself with that. When I was married and had three kids, Norma was still single and had a good job with the telephone company. She helped me out a lot with clothes. When we lived at Big Springs, she came to see us and spent part of her vacation there. I was expecting a baby and I was big as a barrel. I didn't feel like going anywhere. Dean took Norma to a dance at Pond's Lodge. We only had one bed and she had to sleep with us that night. Of course, I was in the middle and what a night that was!! The following October (1934) our baby daughter, Georgia Maxine, was born. I returned to Annis and my folks, two weeks prior to her delivery at Mrs. Goody's Nursing Home in Rigby. When she was a month old, Dean came and got me and the babies and we moved to Ashton for the winter. In the course of the next few months, his folks sold the Inn, therefore, we didn't get to live there anymore. Dean went to work for the Bureau of Reclamation at Island Park on the Dam site. We moved up there in the early spring and lived in a tent most of the summer. We got a chance to buy a log cabin from one of the fellows that was being transferred. There were several families living in the group and the place was called "Hammerville", because there was a lot of building going on and we heard hammers pounding, early morning to late evening. That was a fun summer. In October 1936, a second son, William Forrest, was born. A bachelor neighbor took Dean and I to the hospital in St. Anthony. At about 5:00 a.m., we left for the hospital. Our friend drove eighty miles an hour as he didn't want to be in on the delivery! Dean later brought the other two kids down to Ashton to stay with his Mother until I was released. We had our baby blessed there in Ashton before we returned to Island Park. Tommy Murdock and his father performed the ceremony. They were our nearest neighbors in Ashton. There was a lot of hunting and fishing that went on that winter. I learned to cook and like wild meat and fish. We ate lots of ducks too. The next spring we bought our first car, a 34 model used blue Chevrolet. It seemed like a Cadillac to us. During the late summer of 1937, Dean decided to quit the Bureau and work for the contractor, Max J. Kuney Co. The pay was much better. When the Dam was complete we had to move, so we sold our log cabin to Mr. Pond and bought a "covered wagon" trailer home so we could follow the construction jobs. We moved around a great deal and enjoyed it until the kids became old enough to go to school, which posed a problem. We didn't want to drag them from one school to another. We decided to settle in Annis. We rented the house we are now living in. It belonged to William Conger. He had rented it our for many years, consequently, it had become badly run down. Due to this fact, he decided to sell it. We had the first option and we took it. That meant Dean had to work away from home a lot while I looked after the family. Incidently, when Beulah married, she and her husband, Jack, built a home just south of the Annis church and when Dean and I moved to Annis we became neighbors again. She had two sons and I had two boys and a daughter. Their ages were close enough that they could play together and she and I were able to renew our friendship. Dean worked for her husband in the construction business and she and I spent many happy hours together. When their youngest son was twenty one, Beulah gave birth a baby girl and named her Merri Ann. Soon afterwards they sold out and moved to Montana. We have corresponded through the years and still value our friendship. My activities in the church have been a strength to me. There have been periods in my life when I have been inactive, due to circumstances, but the contrast has been so great I wouldn't want to go through that again. Being active in church work is a learning experience. During the course of about thirty years, we did several remodeling jobs. Redoing the house completely, making it into a comfortable home. Dean improved the land and planted it to grass for pasture. When he wasn't using it, he rented it to others. The irrigating became such a problem, he decided to install a sprinkling system, which simplified matters. While the kids were growing up I served in the MIA, Sunday School, Primary and Relief Society. Also three years on the school lunch program committee. In 1949, we bought the stock in the little grocery store at Annis which was very close and with the help of the kids I operated it for four years. Georgia went away to college and then moved to Los Angeles. One by one the boys quit me, so we sold the store to my brother, Ryland and wife Belva. I wasn't satisfied to sit at home, therefore I went to work for the Deluxe Dry Cleaners altering clothes and pressing. I stayed with that for two years. In 1956 all the kids got married within three months and I was footloose again! My brother, Gene, was building and selling homes in Idaho Falls. He asked me if I'd like a job painting them, so I took on a new experience, which lasted for three years and seven houses. He then sold out and moved to Mesa, Arizona. That ended the painting except on a small scale. In 1961, a processing plant was built in Lewisville, Idaho. The following year I decided to apply for a job there. I went to work in February and stayed with it for twelve years. In 1970 Dean had to retire because of ill health. His condition worsened in the Fall of 1973 so I decided to quit my job and take care of him. He passed away November 17, 1975 and is buried at the Annis Little Butte Cemetery. I have been active in the Relief Society and during the few months that I was alone, I did a lot of meditating and I decided to see what I could do at writing poetry. Though it sounds amateurish, I got a kick out of trying: The Relief Society Presidency saw fit to give me an assignment to beautify the home, Of course, they didn't realize it would be much easier to give a history on Rome! Since I'm not trained to follow fashions or observe the latest trends, I searched through many magazines and sought counsel from my friends. Though by nature I'm an optimist, I failed to gain needed inspiration, I even called our home economist, but threw up my hands in total frustration! Now as I recall after countless hours of drumming on my head, Each room to have a sense of balance needs just a splash of red. This rule I've tried to follow in all the years of keeping house, And if I didn't impress any others, it surely pleased my spouse! My friend, Annie, contends to me, that anyone with half intelligence can create rhythm. But alas, some cases seem hopeless, as with a case like mine. But with patience and perseverance it might develop with time! I've given you some spiritual poem to strengthen your faith and trust, Some hints on helping nature develop beautiful plans to adorn our homes and gardens, which surely seems a must. For variety I gave advice on love and marriage to make us women realize there's no room for disparage. And to beautify the hands, a recipe for a special kind of cream. What some of us lack in beauty, we can realize in a dream! Now, my dear Sisters, if you appreciate my efforts, please indicate by a sign, I hope I rate an E for effort, for to me its been a struggle to make a rhythm! I lived alone for a few months, then my grandson, Rolan came to stay with me. The following January his brother, Reed joined us, because his Mother was moving from Rigby to Ammon to be closer to her work at Smith Clinic. He didn't want to change schools as he was to graduate in May. Its been good for me to have the boys here, no time for loneliness, we've helped each other. After graduating Reed found employment at Nalder's Auto Parts. He was with me for a year and a half. In the meantime he fell in love, became engaged and eventually got married to Melanie Taylor in the Idaho Falls Temple. He already had his trailer home set up and was on his own. He and Melanie have continued to live on Val's lot and just recently purchased it. They have plans to build a home. During the course of this time they've brought a son, Brodie and a daughter, Brianna into the world. Two little great-grandkids for me to love. Rolan continued to live with me and by and by Forrest joined us. After being here six years, Rolan decided to move to Boise to be near his sister Susan. At this time, August 1983, I have eight grandsons, two granddaughters, and six great grandchildren. What the future holds for me can be anybody's guess, but I hope I'll be able to stay around for a few more years. I decided I should state why I am here, instead of some place in England and who my progenitors are. My grandparents, Thomas and Susannah Goldthorpe Heaps migrated from England in 1863, hopefully for a better way of life and freedom to worship as they chose. They wanted to be partakers of the blessings to be received in the new religion they had accepted. Oppression was great at this time against the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints or the "Mormons", of which I am a member. I have a testimony of the truthfulness of this gospel through the inspired teachings of Joseph Smith, a true Prophet of the latter days. If this religion were lived as outlined, there is no greater philosophy to live by to attain happiness and well being. It has been a source of strength for me. I'm not sure I would be equal to the sacrifices made by my parents and grandparents, but I'm grateful for their strength and courage. I am thankful for my family and perhaps I should write a bit about each one. Val, the older son is a builder of roads. He doesn't have an engineering degree but is recognized for his ability in his field. He has worked for the same company for many years and serves as a superintendent on some projects. He is living in New Mexico at this time. He and his wife Carma, have three sons. Next in line is daughter, Georgia. She is a career woman and holds a very responsible job in the field of law, as the Executive Director of the Los Angeles Bar Association. She is the mother of two sons. Forrest has chosen to be a truck driver, which has given him a chance to do extensive traveling and an opportunity to see much of the United States, which he wouldn't have had otherwise. He is the father of five children; two daughters and three sons. I am very grateful for the assistance of Connie Hanni, my ex-daughter-in-law, in typing these many pages. She has been very helpful in arranging the material I have written. My sister, Norma and husband, LaMar Burke have given me pointers too, which I appreciate. I have done this with the thought in mind of encouraging others to do the same. Though one's life may not be exciting, it can be rewarding. Signed: Maxine Hanni Re-typed and edited by niece, LaRue Burke Dennis - January 2005 Here are some excerpts I added that were not covered fully in her life history from her life sketch given at her funeral by Charlie White, her niece June's husband, on October 20, 1990: She died at Eastern Idaho Regional Medical Center of complications following heart surgery. She was a wonderful homemaker. Her husband, Dean, passed away in November 1975. She had 10 grandchildren and 11 great-grandchildren. She was preceded in death by four brothers and two sisters. Her childhood summers were spent with the family on the dry farm located on the South Fork of the Snake River above Heise Hot Springs. She made quilts for her children and grandchildren. Even though she had some hair-raising experiences with animals she never got over her love for them. She called them "critters" and even though they increased her workload in the summer, she found pleasure in them and their individual personalities. She never ventured too far from home, as the cows or "critters" needed her attention and care. She was a wonderful cook and when you visited, her home was always immaculate and she always had cakes, cookies, or casseroles to serve. Her wants were simple yet she loved pretty things. Gifts from her family decorated her home. Her refrigerator was resplendent with homemade magnets, gifts from her grandchildren and great-grandchildren and Relief Society friends. She enjoyed her home, and visitors were always welcome. Her warm, cozy kitchen always had geraniums in the window. She was an avid reader in search of knowledge. She loved history and kept up on current events through one of her favorite publications, the Time magazine. If she heard or saw a word she didn't know the meaning of, she immediately looked it up in her dictionary and often incorporated it into her letter writing. She displayed pictures of her family around her home and was very proud of her family and their accomplishments. Her nieces and nephews kept her apprised of their families. She wrote many interesting and newsy letters to the ward missionaries. Calls from her three children and their families were the highlight of her day. Nieces and nephews from out of town called her frequently and loved to visit with her when they were in Annis. She loved attending the Lufkin family reunions and seeing extended family. Reed and Melanie visited Grandma often, and Melanie did her hair, took her to the doctor, and exchanged choice recipes with her. Grandsons popped in frequently to check on her and help where needed. Maxine took pride in her appearance and was particularly concerned when she felt her hair didn't look quite right. Her three children described their Mother as a totally selfless woman. She was genuine and didn't try to impress. She accepted people as they were. She had no tolerance for petty gossip and wouldn't participate in it. She felt it could be hurtful, and she didn't want to see anyone hurt by it. Her daughter-in-law, Carma, described her as the world's perfect Mother-in-law. Her religion was her salvation and mainstay. At her age it sustained and kept her a vital woman. She cared deeply for the people in the community and was always there to comfort the sick and provide a freshly baked casserole or lend a helping hand with quilting. She has been an inspiration to those who knew and loved her, and her passing has left a deep void in our lives. We will miss her dearly. Here are comments made by LaMar Burke at her services also: It is an honor to be asked to be a part of these services for a wonderful person like Maxine. We will miss her phone calls and the 3 little taps on the back door as she came often to visit. She would only stay a few minutes then say I must get back home and get busy. Like her Mother, she had to get up early and do something. It was a sin to waste time. She was more concerned about other people than herself. Always doing something nice for friends and neighbors. Grandchildren were often taken in when down on their luck. She tended our kids when we went on trips. One time she had just hung her wash on the line when our son Steve (a little guy) sprayed it with the hose. She scolded him a bit and he thought he had lost his last friend. The kids worked in the field a lot, but Maxine wasn't too strong so she usually helped her Mother in the house. She loved animals and especially horses. She did have a few mishaps but nothing serious. Maxine and Norma went to the dry farm with their Dad with team and wagon one time when they were six and eight years old. They stopped at Poplar store for candy. Their Dad made them lick the salt block for a piece of candy. They loved to hear their Father sing as they rode along. He had a deep bass voice. In the Annis choir he needed no help with the bass part. Maxine was forced to quit high school on account of illness. She worked for a lady in Idaho Falls, and with some of her money, paid for Norma's first permanent. She rode the bus to Idaho Falls for it. She worked at the Big Springs resort where she met and married Dean Hanni in 1931. They lived in a little log cabin and Dean worked in the timber. They commuted in winter by dog sled. They had 9 dogs. Dean drove the dogs in the races at Ashton. A friend named Deb Groom also had a dog team. Their life style was much like a chapter from Jack London's books. Dean joined the CC Camp in Salmon, so Maxine and baby Val spent the winter with Grandma and Grandp Lufkin. It was very hard on them when Maxine took the baby back to Island Park. They had learned to love young Val Dean so much. Dean helped build Island Park Reservoir and then went into construction, which moved them around a lot. They moved to Annis to put the kids in school. She was happy to settle down in her own home. They had pigs and calves and raised a garden. She took great pride in her yard and flowers, both inside and outside. She painted houses for her brother Gene who built new homes. She also got fishing worms with electric rods. She had a regular bunch to buy all the bait she could furnish. Gene and Zelpha moved a little trailer in by the house and spend some summers here. They took several nice fishing trips together. We were happy to go to Escalante with her and Norma and I with Steve and his son Sam. She really enjoyed seeing where her Mother was born in a dugout, the fist white girl born in Escalante. We also met relatives Alberta and Neal Liston, who showed us around the town and cemetery. Maxine worked with the school lunch program, also ran the Annis store fours years, then sold it to Ryland and Belva. She worked at Fresh Pak a long time, then at the cleaners in Rigby. The church was a great strength to her, she enjoyed studying and taking part in Sunday School class. She served in Primary, Relief Society and M.I.A. She enjoyed her Home and Visiting Teachers. She paid her tithing faithfully. She was a very private independent person. Had no time for gossip. May the children and grandchildren as well as all of us cherish the happy memories of a wonderful person. MAXINE LUFKIN HANNI Birth: January 27, 1909 - Annis, Fremont, Idaho, United States Death: October 17, 1990 - Idaho Falls, Idaho, United States Buried: Annis Little Butte Cemetery Married: Dean Lloyd Hanni - Bozeman, Montana, United States on September 1, 1931 Blessed: May 9, 1909 by George A. Browning Baptized: July 6, 1918 by Ansin Hatch in Rigby, Idaho, United States Confirmed: July 7, 1918 by E.M. Carr Father: George Townsend Lufkin Birthplace: Panaca, Lincoln, Nevada - June 2, 1876 Father's Death: May 19, 1949 - Annis, Jefferson, United States Buried: Annis Little Butte Cemetery Mother: Alice Ann Heaps Birthplace: Escalante, Garfield, Utah, United States - November 20, 1876 Mother's Death: July 28, 1945 - Annis, Jefferson, Idaho, United States Attended school at Annis Elementary from 1916 to 1924, Rigby High School from 1924 to 1927 and Henager's Business College in Salt Lake City, Utah in October, November, and December of 1930. Special appointments: President of Young Ladies MIA, September 1928 in Annis Ward. Appointed by Bishop Hugh Hall. Served as Primary Teacher for six years. Became Primary President September 1927, served for two years. Taught Sunday School for 3 years (11 and 12 year olds). Assisted in the Relief Society Literature lessons. Served as Visiting Teacher for many years and served as Singing Mother. BROTHERS AND SISTERS: Verna May, born July 26, 1897 - Escalante, Garfield, Utah, died October 15, 1957 - Married Alma Rose - May 6, 1918 - died July 16, 1975 George LeRoy, born July 29, 1899 - Escalante, Garfield, Utah, died October 3, 1950 - Married Alice Goody - January 20, 1929 - died May 25, 1994 LaVar, born July 22, 1901 - Escalante, Garfield, Utah - drowned at age 4 - June 26, 1905 John Henry, born December 6, 1902 - Taylorsville, Idaho - died Pneumonia age six weeks January 28, 1903 Thomas Eugene, born December 3, 1903 - Menan, Idaho, died August 6, 1993 - married Zelpha Alvina Ellis - May 26, 1929, died March 29, 1997 Grace, born April 16, 1906 - Annis, Idaho, died July 16, 1972 - married William L. Price - March 9, 1925, died February 14, 1974 Norma, born March 15, 1911 - Annis, Idaho, died August 19, 2004 - Married Samuel LaMar Burke - November 2nd, 1939, died December 17, 1993 Ryland Townsend, born May 7, 1913 - Annis, Idaho, died October 1, 1988 - married Belva Kinghorn - March 3, 1934, died January 22, 1982 Ellwood Jennings, born July 7, 1915 - Annis, Idaho, died September 30, 1994 - married Mary Wanda Scott- November 28, 1936, died November 14, 1998 ***re-typed by Ronda Kay Burke Mills, Granddaughter to Norma Lufkin Burke, sister to Maxine Lufkin Hanni in May 2014 on to Family Search for all to enjoy

The Life Story of Alice Ann Heaps Lufkin by Maxine Lufkin Hanni and Norma Lufkin Burke - Daughters

Contributor: Robert Mortimer Created: 2 years ago Updated: 2 years ago

In writing this we have gone back into her ancestry in England to give a better picture of her background. A lot of it is taken from records, therefore is factual. Some are stories related to us by our Mother and our trusting to memory. Other stories are from actual experiences of different members of the family. We have aimed to furnish a vignette of the life of our Mother for the benefit of the growing posterity. If there are any discrepancies, we hope they will be overlooked, as a lot of this information comes from memory, but we've tried to stay as close as possible to the facts. We owe much to our brother Gene and his wife Zelpha for background information. Our niece, LaPreal Hinckley deserves special mention for the typing, which is no small job and she needs to be commended for her worthwhile contribution in our behalf. Alice Ann Heaps 1876-1945 Alice Ann Heaps was the daughter of Thomas Heaps and Susannah Goldthorpe. Her father was born in Garstang, Lancashire, England and her mother at Linlethgow, Scotland. When Susannah was just a baby her parents moved to Yorkshire, England, Susannah's father passed away when she was 12 years old, leaving her mother as a widow with six children to raise. When the "Black Plague" epidemic swept England in 1849 her mother contracted the disease and died, leaving Susannah, and older sister Elizabeth and a young brother, William orphans. They were taken to an orphanage or more commonly known, as the poorhouse. Mother called it the work-house as Grandma Heaps had told her how she and Elizabeth were taught to work under strict supervision. Thomas Heaps and Susannah Goldthorpe were married at Staincross, Yorkshire, England in July of 1854 and by 1856 both had been baptized into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. They lived in the Mapplewell, Swallowhill area and had six children born to them, three of which died at a young age. Because of oppression in England at this time and a desire to go to a new land and be partakers of the blessings to be received in the new religion they had accepted, they immigrated to America June 4, 1863 from London, England. They crossed the ocean in a sailing vessel by the name of "Amazon" with 895 Mormon immigrants under the leadership of Elder William Brannel. They were six weeks crossing the Atlantic. Many were the hardships of the voyage such as shortage of water and provisions and much sickness. On July 20, 1863 they landed in New York and from there traveled by rail to Florence, Nebraska and from there continued their trek across the plains. The threat of Indians was always near. The Civil War was being fought in the South. Slaves were leaving their masters and some army deserters were finding their way westward posing problems for the immigrants. Grandma Susannah Heaps had a gift of working with the sick and no doubt helped deliver babies and tend the sick while crossing the plains. On arriving in Salt Lake they were assigned by the Church authorities to continue on to Southern Utah. They lived for a few years at Toquerville, which is several miles north and east of St. George, Utah. Eventually they were sent with other L.D.S. Saints to Panaca, Nevada, and when the exodus from Pioche or Panaca occurred they settled in Panguitch, Utah. In 1875 when a small group of men were appointed to investigate the Escalante country to determine if it would be possible to take wagons into the area, Mother's father, Grandpa Thomas Heaps was chosen to go with the group and after considerable searching determined that a road could be built over the Escalante Mountains. The country was rough and nearly impossible, even with saddle horses. This was accomplished in the spring of 1876 and Escalante was to become a historic haven and home for people from many lands. This same spring they moved over the Mountain to Potato Valley, which later was called Escalante. For awhile they lived in a rock cellar or dug-out and it was here that Alice Ann Heaps was born on November 20, 1876. She was the first white girl born in Escalante. A boy had been born there a few weeks before. After settling in Escalante Grandma Heaps was called by the church and set apart to serve as a mid-wife, there being no doctors available in the town. She was kept busy bringing babies into the world and tending the sick. She is credited with having delivered about eight hundred babies. In all kinds of weather she would travel all over the valley with her horse and buggy. She gave of her ability and strength when she knew at times she would not get paid for her service. Some people were too poor to pay anything. Daughter Norma tells of hearing Mother tell of her ability with the sick and it was generally known or said that no one could be sick for long with Grandma Heaps around. She had a way that when she walked into the sick room she would soon have the patient laughing and on their way to recovery. Her untiring efforts with those in pain was a well known fact. She possessed a good sense of humor which sustained her in many an ordeal. Being a mid-wife was a very demanding and undesirable job at times. She was no doubt called on to perform services that drew heavy on her strength and emotions. From all reports she was a woman of great courage and could be quite stern if the circumstances called for it. Mother told of the suicide of one of the local townsmen. He had taken a gun and blown his head in pieces - none of the men would make a move to touch him. Grandma Heaps was called on the scene and it fell her lot to gather up the pieces and put him together. Who did her work or took care of her home while she was away? Well, she had seven daughters, from which much was expected. It was told by them that Grandpa Heaps was indeed a spoiled man, as they waited on him hand and foot. Grandma demanded a certain amount of excellence in their efforts at homemaking. She was strict, and if a job did not meet her approval it was done over. She wore long dresses and petticoats, which had to be laundered and ironed to perfection. In her later years she did temple work and had her sister Elizabeth, who never married, sealed to Grandpa Heaps. Alice Ann was born November 20. 1876 - blessed January 7, 1877 by George W. Sevey. She was baptized July 2, 1885 by Joseph S. Barney and confirmed on the same date by Edmund W. Davis. She was very ambitious all during her growing up years. She and her sisters, Vilate and Lillie spent several summer months each year at the family dairy at what was known as the Upper Valley. Their living quarters being a dug-out built in the side of the mountain. They made and prepared cheese and butter for market. Periodically, their father would make a wagon trip to Marysville, which was about ninety miles away, requiring three days of travel just one way, to find sale for the products. When the John T. Lufkin family camped in Thomas Heaps yard during the summer of 1887, Alice, then eleven years old, caught sight of George through the window and remarked to her sister Lillie, "Do you see that black-eyed boy out there? Someday I'm going to marry him." They were sweethearts through the years and on September 22, 1896 in Rexburg, Idaho her prediction came to pass. During the summer of 1896 Grandpa Heaps and daughter, Alice Ann accompanied a son, Thomas Levi and family on a trip to Victor, Idaho, where Levi chose to settle. Traveling with them was a young man by the name of George Lufkin, who was hired as a teamster (also Alice Ann's sweetheart.) After the family was settled, Grandpa Heaps, daughter and hired man started on their return trip to Escalante. When they reached the town of Rexburg, Idaho, George and Alice Ann who were engaged to be married, decided to stop there and tie the know, so to speak. This would prevent any undue scandal. Grandpa Heaps served as a witness. When they arrived to Logan, Utah, they went through the temple and were sealed for time and all eternity. The young couple, with dreams of a happy future, returned to Escalante to make their home. They were both civic and church minded. Consequently, they participated in all community and ward activities. They both liked to sing and actively supported the choir under the direction of William Butler and later, William Alvey. Their choir at times numbered from sixty to seventy voices. Our parents loved Escalante. Most of their relatives were there, but they could see the day coming when, because of depleted ranges and the fact that although Escalante was a picturesque place in a little pocket or valley it was surrounded by dry and parched mountain ranges and adjoined by an almost worthless desert to the south, and in order to provide their family with better opportunities they must go. By this time they had been blessed with children, a daughter Verna and two sons, LeRoy and LaVar. They seemed never to have been attracted to any place other than Idaho, and more particularly, the area between Idaho Falls and Rexburg. Therefore, in the spring of 1902, they disposed of their little home in Escalante and made preparations to take off for that area where they had enjoyed themselves in 1896, which they had never forgotten. Mother used to tell about how terribly sad they were as time come to leave. Travel in those days was extremely slow and they must have had a feeling that many years would pass before they could return. Mother did finally manage to make a return trip in 1909 and our father not until November of 1933. After many sad adieus, they took off to the west in their covered wagon. Their destination, Idaho, "Gem of the Mountains". The end of the day would bring them to the famous old campground at the east base of Escalante Mountains, near a beautiful stream, Birch Creek, surrounded by massive pine-trees, which had no doubt heard the footsteps of hundreds of Indians and wild animals, and more recently, those of the white man. A son, Gene, tells of remembering this campground well from the time when as a boy of six in October of 1909 Mother took three of her children, himself, sisters Grace and Maxine, who was just a baby, and made a trip back to Escalante. He tells of being met by Uncle George Campbell and Marysvalle which was the end of the railroad. He took us over the mountain and camped us at this same place. As he recalls Uncle George met them in a covered wagon with a stove in it and plenty to eat. He describes the trip as being "quite a lark". They traveled by train to Marysvalle and had a layover in the Salt Lake depot. He said, "I'll never forget lying on hard benches and Mother trying, as always, to make us comfortable." Going back to their first stop after leaving Escalante, they spent a night on the mountain, then proceeded down the west side to Sweetwater (Widstoe) a distance of about five or six miles and probably camped for a night at Antimony further on. This place was a popular stop-over for freighters and others on the way to and from Marysvalle and Escalante. After many days of traveling, they made their way to the home of George Washington Lufkin, Dad's grandfather in Logan, Utah, where they rested and had a good old-fashioned visit. After staying a few days they soon crossed the Utah line into Idaho, which was to be their adopted state and the greatest of all states. Uncle Jake Barron, a brother to Hannah Barron Lufkin, homesteaded a farm about half way between Inkom and Pocatello in Idaho. He and Aunt Nish had been quite successful and eagerly welcomed our parents to their home. They tarried for a few days then continued on down the Portneuf Canyon to Pocatello and on north to the Fort Hall Indian Reservation. They used to talk about how deep and difficult the sand was across this area. The wagon road they traveled was somewhat east of the present highway and stayed more to the edge of the foothills on it's course to the town of Blackfoot, Idaho. A few years earlier Dad's Uncle George E. Lufkin had moved to the small town of Shelley, where he acquired a farm and was doing quite well financially. He needed help and asked Dad to be his hired man for the summer of 1902. This was a welcome opportunity, for he and Mother were proud and independent people and were determined to make their own way, as far as earning a living was concerned. Uncle George provided them with a place to live and pasture for their horses and helped them in many other ways. Jobs were hared to find in this area, especially after the fall harvest was completed. During that summer Dad became acquainted with many people among whom were the Priest Brothers at Taylorsville, a small farming community east of Shelley. They recognized him as a young man with a family, who needed a job and was willing to work and earn his pay. In the winter time they operated a hay-baling business. He was offered a job for the winter, with the understanding they would use him whenever possible. Our parents moved to Taylorsville and lived that winter in a rented house a little south and west of the present community center. They liked this place --the people were very friendly and helpful and had it not been for a sorrowing experience it would have been a good winter. On December 6, 1902 another son was born to them. He was a welcome addition to their family and was a ray of sunshine for them. Eventually they had him blessed and he was given the name of John Henry. About the middle of January he became ill with pneumonia and in spite of all they could do, he died on January 28, 1903. They buried him in the Taylorsville Cemetery. At that time it was a squirrel infested spot, which had been cut out of sagebrush at the base of the Taylor Mountain just southwest of the community. It has since become a well-organized and well kept modern cemetery. When spring came our folks loaded into the wagon and headed north again. They camped overnight at Iona, a short distance from the W. H. Price farm, also a night at Grant, which is located north of Idaho Falls in Jefferson County. They continued on to Menan, Idaho where they rented a small farm. Sometime during the fall of 1903 Grandfather John T. Lufkin had sold out in Escalante, Utah -- he moved to Menan and lived temporarily in part of the Rube Scott house where our folks were living. In the early morning of December 3. 1903 a son, Eugene was born and on this very day Dad and Grandpa Lufkin had gone to Idaho Falls with John and Ike Fisher in a white-topped buggy to close out the purchase of a farm from the Fisher brothers. Our father was to get the south forty acres and Grandfather the north forty, which already had a log house on it. There was none on Dad's section, so he rented a house known as the "Gerard House". In the fall of 1904 our folks moved to Annis, As soon as they were settled in the newly rented house, our father heard of a freighting job in the Twin Falls area, nearly two hundred miles to the southwest. Therefore, in early December he hitched his team "Dick and Beck" to his covered wagon and took off for that area. He spent the winter of 1904 and 1905 hauling freight from Shoshone, Idaho to the community of Twin Falls. When he returned home in the spring of 1905, he brought back a good share of the money, some four hundred dollars, that he had earned during the long cold winter. Although the "Gerard House" was poorly built and one could hear the winter wind whistle around the windows and doors our Mother managed to gather wood and keep her little family warm and comfortable. It was Verna's second year in school and although the schoolhouse was a long mile and a half from home and school buses were unheard of at that time, she got along fine. A special thanks should go to the Pierce family along with Rachel Maynard, Annie Clifford, Bess Dinsdale and also Bill and Gertrude Bruce for their help; their homes were one to two miles farther from the school than ours. The Gerard House was only one-fourth mile from the folks newly acquired farm, which Dad operated that year for the first time - 1905. Their world was improving with time until a late June day of that year. Our parents had gone to a funeral somewhere in the Shelley area. They left the children, Verna, Roy, and Lavar in the care of Father's sister, Lillie and although she was a good responsible girl, four year old brother Lavar got away. He attempted to walk across a plank that served as a bridge over a nearby irrigation ditch. He had watched others walk on it and decided he would do the same, but he fell in and drowned. They found him face down in the water. He was buried in the Annis Cedar Butte Cemetery. In the late summer of 1905 Dad built a log house on the farm. After Mother got the walls and ceiling lined with factory cloth and lime they moved in. They were home! Had it not been for the drowning incident it would have been a dream come true. They continued their building and in a short time had a double-binned slab granary built, where the newly threshed oats and wheat could be stored as it come from the threshing machine. It was about this time that Grandfather Heaps came to visit them. He had liked the State of Idaho from his very first trip and had been particularly impressed by the Upper Snake River Valley. He stated that if it were possible, he would sell out in Utah and move to Idaho, but that at his age he thought it would be unwise to do so. After returning to his home in Escalante he became ill and died December 4, 1905 leaving Grandma a widow, until she passed away August 15. 1922. On April 16, 1906, daughter Grace was born and as brother Gene recalls he had to move over and make room for her, not only in our parents affections, but at the table and in the bed where he slept as a child. Grace didn't like to wash dishes and do housework, but she was a great help in other ways and more than made her way thinning and hoeing beets, potatoes, etc. Incidentally, after marriage Grace became an excellent homemaker, copying the art of hospitality of our Mother. Our sister Maxine was born January 27, 1909 and soon won the affection of the rest of the family. She was not very healthy at first and needed special attention and although she worked in the fields to some extent, she stayed in the house a great deal and helped our Mother with the housework. Going back to October 1909 as brother Gene tells it: Mother was anxious to go back to the old home in Escalante for a visit. Arrangements were made and she was to take me, my sisters Grace and Maxine with her. According to their story our father took us to the depot at Rigby to meet the train and they used to tell about how it snowed and how muddy the roads were. It was a distance of four and one-half miles. We weren't supposed to be gone more than a month or six weeks, but shortly before we got ready to return, a heavy winter storm set in and travel over the Escalante Mountains was brought to a stand still, so it was decided that we should wait until travel would be safe. As it turned out, this was the following April 10, 1910. On March 15, 1911 another daughter, Norma, was born and in keeping with the pattern already established, was in a few short years, able to join the little band of weed-choppers. She too, would rather work in the fields than do housework. Shortly after Norma came along our father acquired a part of the old Annis school house, which had to be moved to make way for a new brick building. It was placed in the southwest corner of our farm and after some remodeling we moved in. This gave the family much more living space, which was a boost for Mother. She decorated the walls with pretty wallpaper and painted the woodwork to correspond It wasn't what you'd call modern, but quite a step up from the one room log house. On May 7, 1913 a brother, Ryland was born. Mother was attended for the first time by a doctor, Dr. Anderson of Rigby. There were problems and the doctor gave the baby up for dead laying him aside while he attended Mother - she wouldn't settle for that - gather the baby next to her and worked with him until he was revived. Losing a baby was a tragedy to her, which the doctor must have realized before he was through. as Gene remembers, Dad talked to him the next morning and he got the idea Mother's life was in danger. In spite of any problems she soon recovered and was back taking care of her family. A brother, Ellwood, was born July 7, 1915, which completed a family of ten children, however, not all were raised to maturity. Eight managed to marry and raise families. Mother was a dedicated Latter-day Saint and after she and Dad moved to Annis, she served in many capacities, namely, Relief Society President, Counselor to other presidents, class teacher, visiting teacher and member of the choir. In 1902 the first Relief Society in the Annis Ward was organized with Sister Lucy Casper as president. In 1905 Mother was chosen as a counselor to replace on that was moving. September 26, 1907 President Lucy Casper resigned. Mother was sustained as President with Emma Browning as 1st Counselor, Prudence Lake as 2nd Counselor, Charlotte Bruce as Secretary and Hannah Campbell as Treasurer. In October, 1909 Prudence Lake was released and Lillie Poole, wife of Will Poole was chosen in her place. During this time grain was raised on the church lot - this financed the building of a granary in which grain was later stored. November, 1914 Secretary Charlotte Bruce resigned and Sister Laura Ellis, mother of Zelpha Lufkin, was chosen in her place. During this year of 1916, they contributed to the building of the first Stake Tabernacle in Rigby. On the 8th of May, 1917 Mother resigned after having served ten years as president. She had performed her duties in a faithful manner and was a welcome sight in many a home where help was needed. In appreciation for her devoted service each member contributed a quilt block with the name of the giver embroidered on it. The list added up to forty-nine sisters. These blocks were assembled and made into a quilt, which was presented to Mother. At her death, daughter Verna received it. At this time it is in possession of Thelma Stosich, oldest daughter of Verna. On April 22, 1919, with the reorganization of the Relief Society, Mother was called to serve as 1st Counselor to Sylvia Carr, with Sophia Scott as 2nd Counselor; Laura Ellis, Secretary; Hannah Campbell as Treasurer; Bessie Adamson as organist - later Phoebe Rose Clark as organist. Mother valued their friendship deeply. She served about twelve years in the presidency. Mother loved to make quilts – she was very meticulous in this field and helped with many quilts to give to the needy. She related that when Mrs. Bybee was work director, the Relief Society was called on to provide a quilt for some special purpose and many members participated, but when it was complete she and Mrs. Bybee were so unhappy with some of the quilting they couldn’t bear to turn it in that way, therefore, unbeknowing to anyone else and to prevent offending someone, they took out all the bad stitching and re-did it. At one time Mother was called on to assist with delivering a baby. The couple had been unable to contact a doctor and in desperation came after Mother. Complications developed. It was a difficult birth and although we heard very little about it from Mother, the woman firmly believes and giver her credit for saving her life. This incident happened years after she had discontinued this practice. Times were indeed hard in their early years and Mother washed clothes on the board for the Casper family of ten and her pay was $1.00. Doing washing in this manner was one of the hardest of household chores. Her hands would be red and raw, the skin being worn off the knuckles, due to the home-made soap, which was strong with lye. Water was carried from the well and heated on top of the stove. Rubbing the clothes until clean then wringing them as dry as possible by hand was a dreaded weekly job. Washing machines with a wringer and a stick handle to keep them turning were indeed a welcome item. Each batch had to be turned twenty minutes. How we hated wash day. Our father, with the help of one or two neighbors did a good job butchering or dressing out beef and pork. Together Mother and Dad would cut up the meat and Mother would salt and cure the hams, side pork and shoulders. The fat would be cut up and tendered. The waste fat was used to make soap. She also made delicious headcheese and sausage. As was said, they made use of everything but the “squeal”. The butchering took place each fall and she would make and bottle the best mincemeat, which was always ready for wonderful pies at Christmas Time. She was a good cook and somehow her cooking seemed to have a delicious flavor all its own. People still ask for her cookie recipe, which none of us have – it was all in her head and she never put it on paper. Daughter Maxine relates, “Mother taught me how to quilt – it seemed like a fascinating art and I helped her to make many quilts for family and friends. Sometimes the daughters-in-law got in on the “quilting bees”, but after her passing I never realized the same pleasure. Mother took a correspondence course in sewing and became an excellent seamstress, doing much sewing for her family, and as Maxine tell it – all seams had to be basted before the final machine stitching was done, and the garments had to fit perfectly before the job was finalized. If she couldn’t find time during the day she would sew at night while the rest of the family slept. It didn’t seem to prevent her arising early the next morning to face another day. She was born with a lot of nervous energy, but how she was able to withstand all the demands made on her has been a puzzle to the family, as we reminisce about the past. During the years she served in the Relief Society, and before we had morticians, she, Nettie Bybee and Sophia Scott were credited with preparing thirty-four bodies for burial. They also made the burial clothes, plus clothes for the families to attend a funeral. Mrs. Maude Scott assisted a lot with the sewing. These ladies were as dear to her as sisters. Mother served as a midwife and spent much time with the sick – no matter what time of day or night she was called upon, she willingly responded. In the fall of 1915 our father purchased one hundred and sixty acres of dry farm from H. J. “Hype” Fisher. This was located up on the bench from the Snake River directly over from Burns and Black’s Canyon on the Antelope Flats. Travel to the dry farm was made by team and wagon. Norma tells, Mother used to cook for days in preparation for the event. The food would be placed in the old “grub box” – enough to last several days. Dad would sometimes take Maxine, Ryland and I. (Ellwood was too small), along and how we would enjoy it, even though it took all day to make the thirty mile trip under the hot sun. Dad enjoyed the trip also. He had a deep bass voice and did a lot of singing, which we enjoyed. In the spring of 1917, Mother decided to go along and spend the summer there. She often took us children into the grain fields to pull the noxious weed, “mustard”. We were always rewarded with some of her good dry farm cooking. Mother remarked many times that the time she spent on the dry farm was the most leisurely summer of her entire life in Idaho. She would often pack a lunch and we would all walk down the steep dug way to visit with Joe and Tempe Fisher (parents of the author, Vardis Fisher.) They owned a home and small acreage near the river. Mother and Tempe seemed to enjoy visiting, and developed a good friendship. On the return back to the dug way, we would pick wild flowers and berries, when available. The experience was one not soon forgotten. Seeing the quaking asp and pine trees no doubt stirred memories for Mother of her home country in Escalante, Utah, it being very similar. Just north of the dry farm cabin was what we children called the “Little Gulch”. We seldom ventured close enough to look over the rim, as our older brothers had told us that a big wolf had been seen skulking around there. We took great pleasure in spooking each other and just before dark we were certain we could see it coming up for a look. During the years the folks had the dry farm, there had to be two households. Someone had to be at each, to take care of the home and chores. When Mother was at Antelope, sister Verna stayed in the valley and vice versa. At that time she was a young lady, very dependable and assumed responsibilities as though Mother were there to coach her, which meant very much to her parents. They were proud of her and trusted her implicitly. We other girls being a lot younger looked to our sister Verna as a second mother. Brother Roy played a big part in sharing responsibilities. He was the oldest boy, so he was leaned on a lot. He was old enough to understand the needs and workings of the farms and exhibited qualities that were appreciated. Gene next in line, was an asset to the workings. Brother Ryland recalls that he, Gene and Grace took care of the dry farm for a period the summer he was nine years old. Gene would harness six head of horses, hitch them to the plow and let Ryland drive them. The horses were trained and knew just where to go, and all he had to do was hold the lines and talk to them. The dry farm was eventually sold, but prior to this, in 1920, Father had become quite active politically and with a little urging from influential Republicans he consented to run for Sheriff of Jefferson County. His Father, brothers Frank and Quill were dyed in the wool Democrats and our kitchen was many times, the setting for some very heated arguments. Being young and full of admiration for our Dad, we could never understand why they couldn’t see things as he did. He remained a Republican throughout his life. At this time the Sheriff’s sleeping quarters joined the Sheriff’s Office. Soon after Dad took office, Mother was persuaded to move into town – she had no garden to care for, cows to milk or chickens to feed and soon decided this was no life for her. Concern for her home and a desire to see that things were being taken care of on the ranch overruled any arguments for her to stay in town. During our father’s years in the Sheriff’s Office he was not around to help discipline the younger members of the family. This and many other important responsibilities fell on Mother’s shoulders. We were a trial at times. She was religious and had a strong testimony of the Gospel. She read to us from the Relief Society Magazine. This quite often took place at the dinner table and invariably some us would get the giggles and have to leave the room. She talked a great deal about what the church referred to as “a sifting out period”. This was to be a time when the sinful would be cast out. Norma remembers worrying over this a great deal as she felt she wasn’t always as good as she should be. Before Dad left the Sheriff’s Office he was privileged to take a trip. He took Mother to California – they traveled by train and stayed with Uncle Jim and Aunt Lillie Canady in Gledale. The hospitality shown them was something special. Uncle Jim took them each day in his Ford car to see the highlights of Los Angeles. Aunt Lillie made special effort to cook the foods she knew would please them most and showed enthusiasm that made their trip a memorable one. Before leaving Dad bought Mother new clothes, which pleased her much. It was an exciting time just watching them prepare to go – we were so pleased that they could make the trip. It turned out to be very enjoyable. Mother must have caught the mood and decided to splurge a little by buying a gift for each member of the family. I want to mention that many of the relatives went to visit with the Canadys through the years and they all mentioned the gracious treatment shown them. Norma tells of the purchase of the Bartlet place. It was in the summer of 1923 while our Father was still in the Sheriff’s Office this farm came up for sale. It consisted of 160 acres and was located just across the road, north of the property he already owned. With a young family of four boys and three girls, (Verna was already married) he felt the need to take advantage of the opportunity to accumulate more land, and being a cattle man by nature he had a strong desire to build up a herd of range cattle. The days ahead were devoted to fulfilling this ambition. The buying of the Bartlet place was quite an undertaking and proved to be a turning point in Mother’s life. It required the untiring efforts of all involved. All of the farming was done by horse drawn machinery as tractors had not yet come into the picture. There were patches of brush land that had to be cleared and it took a period of years to accomplish this. Nearly all of the land was very productive with deep top soil. There were rose bushes, haw bushes, and cottonwood trees, willows and thick underbrush, which was cleared with heavy equipment and considerable leveling was done. Summers were indeed busy, often times Dad would bring prisoners to the farm to help speed up the spring work. This was a welcome change for them, but required considerable work for Mother. The prisoners never seemed to mind, they enjoyed the freedom and her good cooking and hospitable manner. The beet crop made late harvesting – it was the main one for paying the mortgage and taxes. I have heard Mother say many times that it was the end of any relaxation for her. Responsibilities increased greatly just at a time when she should have been able to take life a little easier. Ellwood was too young to assume any responsibilities while he had the dry farm, but he made up for it afterwards. During 1925 and 1926 Gene rode the range and looked after the cattle. In January of 1927 he was called to serve a mission to the Southern States. As is usual, there were sacrifices to be made. Gene was engaged to be married and to forestall his wedding for two years was a real test. We all shared in the adjustments that had to be made. Mother was so pleased to have a son go on a mission, the sacrifices couldn’t be too great. She was ever faithful in writing and trying to assure Gene that things were working out well during his absence, though we all missed him much. While he was gone Ryland and Ellwood were old enough to carry a lot of the load and there were countless responsibilities on the farm. Roy continued to help manage. Dad was able to take Gene’s place on the range, looking after the cattle. As soon as Ellwood was old enough to assume the job he fell heir to it. Everybody worked on the farm, but as each of us girls married or got a job, we left. The boys continued to stay, outside of Gene. When he returned from his mission he married and sought employment elsewhere. Dad was a good manager and with the support of Mother and the family he was able to accumulate a sizable estate. Mother raised a garden, some chickens and milked cows to help maintain the household. The boys, especially Ellwood, helped with the milking for several years. She was fussy about how the cows were treated. She wanted them fed well, milked on time and stripped good. It took a fast talker to induce her to accept help. In the early fall of 1925, Mother took Norma and I to Idaho Falls to buy us some winter coats. We never got to go that far away once in a coon’s age, therefore, we were very excited about the trip. As we recall, the place we went to was the largest department store in the city, located at the corner of Broadway and Park Avenue, where the Hub Bar is. It was a pleasant day and we girls were having quite a lark trying on coats and observing all the nice clothes we could dream about. During the course of our shopping we met a Mrs. Mitchell from Shelley, who Mother knew in Escalante where they were both raised. They were glad to see each other and after exchanging pleasantries the woman said, “It was too bad about your sister Lillie,” to which Mother asked, “What about her?” Mrs. Mitchell looked surprised and said, “Didn’t you know? She died on the operating table.” This was in June of the same year. Well, Mother was speechless from shock – she could hardly believe that she was hearing correctly. Of course, the picture changed immediately – what started out as a very pleasant day ended in one of sorrow. Our Mother was so grieved over the loss of her sister it was pathetic – they were very devoted to each other. It always bothered them because they were separated. Mother often mentioned Aunt Lillie, expressing their great sisterly love. They were two years apart, Mother being the older. She said they never quarreled as most kids do, which was an indication of their deep devotion. The loss of her favorite sister under those circumstances wasn’t enough – the realization that not one of her brothers and sisters, most of them still living, had given her consideration enough to let her know about Lillie’s passing. She decided the brother-in-law, George Campbell, who lived in the parents home was probably afraid she might cause him some trouble over the estate. He had been a poor provider and hadn’t made any effort to get a home for himself. It was a terrible blow, which she didn’t deserve and though we as a family, sympathized, it took a long time for her to overcome the hurt. Probably her own family problems and the demands made on her, helped to erase the wrong done by her brothers and sisters. Norma mentions that Mother was a hard worker and had no patience with wastefulness. I remember thinking that she went a little overboard in this area and quite often I would spout off to her. Nearly always my answer would be, “Well, if you had gone through the panic of “98” you would understand.” She always maintained that was a period much worse than anything she experienced during the depression days of the “30’s” that most of us remember and are now trying to impress our children with how serious it was and we by no means, considered them the “good old days”. Grandfather John T. Lufkin spent considerable time at our home during the summer months. He lived in a home on the town site just south of the old Annis store. The days were no doubt long and lonely. Nearly every day he would take a short cut and walk through the Jim Scott field to our house. Norma tells of how he would try to lighten Mother’s load by carrying buckets of water to fill the reservoir, fill the woodbox with wood and after a meal would always grab one of Mother’s white dish towels to dry dishes, pots, frying pan and all. Mother would never hurt his feelings, but we girls used to laugh after he would leave, for we were sure he never knew how near he came to being scalped. Drying pots and pans on the on the white towels was cause for a scolding or thumping – if it had been done by one of us children. On one of these trips, in climbing through a barbed wire fence he accidentally scratched the top of his hand. The wire was rusty and in a short time blood poisoning developed and he soon became ill. Dr. Culley prescribed treatment that called for bed rest and daily special care. Mother, with the help of the daughters-in-law gave him the best care they could, but nothing they did seemed to stop the red streak that slowly crept up his arm. Dr. Culley finally told him his only choice was to have his arm amputated. This he chose not to do, as he felt he had lived a long and fairly good life with not much time left on this earth and that when he did go he wanted to be all together. After one month of being treated he passed away August 24, 1937. After Grandfathers passing Mother became quite ill. She was worn down as the result of the long hours and extra care that was required. It was thought that coming in contact with the blood poison contributed somewhat to her illness. Mother was never privileged to use an electric stove or many of the things that go to make housework easier. She cooked entirely on a wood and coal stove. Coal was furnished for winter use, but keeping the cook stove going was quite a worry. Dad was a little careless about seeing that wood was provided for the range. Our neighbor, Jim Scott, related that when the folks first moved here, he had seen Mother, so often, dragging willows from the dry slough just east of the house. He called it the “Magic Valley”. As brother Gene put it, we had a good father, but it seems that our Mother got the dirty end of the stick, she didn’t seem to be able to have it any other way and was taken advantage of on every turn – I was as guilty as anyone. Maxine speaking: When I wrote to Gene and told him that Norma and I were going to write Mother’s Life Story he wrote back to say “I’m glad you are doing this – she deserves to be well remembered for all the nice things she did for all of us. She was about the most unselfish person I’ve ever known. If she were around I’d like to fly her at any cost back over Darton England, but she’d be scared to death, so I’ll cancel that thought and just take her by car or wagon on a picnic up in the mountains with some of her white-frosted cookies and whatever else she wanted to put in my grub-box. It brings tears to my eyes just thinking about it.” Some of Mother’s sayings that she used quite often were, if she didn’t care for a person, especially a man, would be, “that old cuss.” If the circumstances were bad, it would be, “the poor devil”. She was very modest and we never heard her swear or use vulgarity of any nature. Mother was a loyal friend and would never betray a confidence. Norma gives a description of her physical appearance and characteristics: Mother was of average size, five feet five inches tall and weighed about one hundred and forty pounds. It seemed to me that until the last few years of her life she remained about the same. I do not recall her ever being fat or plump, probably because of the fact that we never heard her complain of having eaten too much. She had bluish-gray eyes, medium brown hair and beautiful skin with never a blemish. She was attractive and neat – to us she was beautiful. Mother had one weakness I’m sure she was aware of and would liked to have overcome. She couldn’t seem to say she was sorry for some little hurt she had caused you, but would make amends with a kind deed, which was her way of saying, “I’m sorry”. She, like the rest of us was not all sweetness seven days a week. She had a quick temper, but was quick to control it and we knew when we’d gone far enough. She was practical, wise, prudent and industrious beyond her strength. She was kind and generous and was loved by all who knew her. Honesty and fair play were important to her and this she emphasized all through our early years. I feel great sorrow when I recall the many thoughtless acts I committed and she calmly and patiently endured them. Our lives today are different. We live in a changed world. We are called upon to do different things. In the days when they all had to band together to thresh their grain, there was a neighborhood bond of unity. They needed the help of their neighbors and their neighbors needed them. Not only manpower, but horses and equipment. As we look back it was a hard time but happy and rewarding. Gone is the old thresher, the coal and water wagons, the big black steam engine, that made harvest time so exciting. As children we loved it as it came puffing in. The neighbors too, came with their teams and wagons and pitchforks, gathering for the day’s work. Little did we think as children of the hard work it was for our parents. Time was when some of the men came early for breakfast. Mother always cooked breakfast for the threshing crew which consisted of the engine man, the separator man and the “water monkey”, who hauled coal and water for the machine. The women cooked good big nourishing meals and had them ready at noon – served on long table with orange crates and planks for chairs. Mother fussed and cooked as though she were preparing for royalty. Tubs of warm water, bars of soap, clean towels and comb were placed in the backyard, where the men washed for dinner. The men, hard as they tried to get to the wash tub before the water monkey, Danny Campbell, a character in his own right. There was grumbling among the men as the water and towels would be darkened with coal dust and dirt, however, this was soon forgotten when the hungry men sniffed the odor of food as it drifted through the air, whetting their appetites. They were generally a jovial bunch with a lot of joking. Second helpings were never frown on, but expected. The cooks took their thanks from seeing the food disappear. During the day buckets of cool fresh water was taken to the threshing crew. Farmers granaries were filled. A big straw stack loomed and when night came, again they filed in, hungry and tired, but in good spirits, as they ate their meal before going home to do chores. Eventually, the men went home for their evening meal because it put them too late doing chores. This was a welcome change for the cooks. Mother devoted so much time and effort into having everything just right, that when it was all over her nerves were frayed. Sometimes resulting in getting her down with lumbago. If she escaped getting sick we felt she was lucky. Roy, Ryland and Ellwood used to haul hay and pulp during the winter months to feed to the livestock. Mother took great pleasure in having a hot meal ready for them on their return – generally the weather was cold. A large apple orchard located just east of Roy and Alice Lufkn’s home was the scene of much activity in late summer. Apples would be picked and carefully packed in boxes and Gene would load as many as he could get in the old “jitney” and head for Ashton. Ryland and Ellwood would sometimes accompany him. It was while Mother and I, Norma, were picking that Mother’s false teeth were bothering her and she thoughtlessly laid them in the crotch of a tree. Sometime later, when we were ready to go home, the teeth were not to be found. We searched every tree and raked the ground where we had been, but the search was fruitless. We went back the next morning for another search. The pigs had got out of their pen during the night and there was evidence that they had spent the night in the orchard. The teeth were never found and Mother finally decided some “old sow” was wearing them. Considerable time passed before she finally went to a dentist in Idaho Falls for new teeth and it was her misfortune to choose a poor one. She ended up with a mouthful of teeth that were too long, a bad color and not at all becoming to her. With the busy life she had, the hassle of getting a new set more to her comfort and liking was too much, therefore, she endured them and formed the habit of putting her hand over her mouth when she laughed, either to keep from losing them or because she was self-conscious about how they looked. Mother had much love and respect for her daughters-in-law, namely, Alice, Zelpha, Belva and Wanda. She both sought and gave counsel. There seemed to be a mutual feeling and admiration that doesn’t always exist in that relationship. Going back through the years revives many memories of the good times we had together as a group, and the worthwhile experiences that took place, which have faded with time. Norma tells of an incident, she said, “Recently, I met up with an old school friend and as we reminisced he remarked, “Norma, do you remember the day I was riding horseback by your place and as I tried to stop, the horse reared over backwards, falling on me, injuring my leg and knocking me unconscious?” They carried me into your house and I shall never forget how kind and good your Mother was to me.” This was typical of her nature. No matter how often I brought friends home, Mother was always friendly and pleasant and they left with a desire to return. Maxine speaking – Mother was never privileged to drive a car, however, I doubt she ever had that desire. During the years she was active in Relief Society, mind you, her mode of travel was mostly by walking. She visited homes throughout the ward. I recall at one time, she drove what was called a single buggy, drawn by one horse, which was a step up from the wagon. I can picture her now as she held the reins with dignity and steered the horse down the road. Norma recalls – MOTHERS STIRRED CAKE She made a fluffy batter and when the oven got just so, After just so many minutes she would tiptoe for a peek. With a gesture of her finger gave a signal not to speak. If we talked the cake would toughen, If we walked it sure would fall. And a jump would mean disaster, That is all that I recall. Sometimes I guess we whispered or moved our little toe, we did something that disturbed the cake and made it not quite so. Her misfortune deemed us pleasure and I declare it was no fake. We exulted in her mishap for we always got the cake. Mother, no doubt had a reason for calling plain cake a “stirred cake”. We couldn’t figure it out and for some reason, never bothered to ask. Maxine adds – We girls thought our Mother always did everything the hard way. After observing how other Mother’s did things, we would try to persuade her to cut corners to save time and energy, but she wouldn’t listen, and accused us of being lazy. She was right to some extent. That was the way she was raised and we weren’t about to change her. Norma’s description of – THE OLD STRAW TICK In the early fall when the straw’s in the stack To my childhood days my mind wanders back To a bright sunny morning, when Mother would say, We are going to fill the straw ticks today. Then all of the bedding was wrangled about And the crumpled dusty old straw was emptied out; While the ticks were all washed and hung up to dry, We impatiently watched that time to pass by. About four o’clock we’d start for the fun, As the old tick filling process begun. One of us shook all the chaff from the straw While others helped to do the stuffing with Ma. When each tick was stuffed till it would hold no more, It was pulled and tugged through the kitchen door. The ticks open end was sewed tight and secure, Then thrust in a heap on the old kitchen floor. Her rhythmic gestures soon leveled the tick And rounded the corners both neatly and quick By the time the process was fully complete, The family was ready for a good night retreat. May I add these few lines to further Mother’s Memory? Norma speaking – Her days were filled with many simple chores. Small tasks that merge, unnoticed in the sum of all it takes to build a home indoors and a shield her family when night is come. The world will never glorify her name nor even note her day is very full. No accolade will grant her sudden fame for homely task so humble and so dull. And yet her busy Mother hands have wrought with gentle kindness and with loving care, a greatness she has never dreamed or sought. A truer greatness than the vain would dare. I am grateful for the life of my Mother. No doubt we have left out many things that were important to her and in compiling this we have wished she could step forward and tell it like it was. Headstones do not tell the story of the hopes, fears and ambitions in their lives or the trials of raising a large family and paying for their land when money was hard to come by. A time came when Dad felt he could afford a better home and more conveniences. Instead of building, he bought one that was already constructed, to be moved. No doubt, because of his age he didn’t want to reach out too far. A foundation was formed and on May 23, 1941 the building was moved onto his property. Of course there was some repair cleaning and painting to be done. Though the house was second hand, it was new to them – having a bathroom was a feature they needed badly, also running water. Mother appreciated her new home, but didn’t get to enjoy it for very long as her health was failing and the last two years weren’t good. She developed pneumonia and never fully recovered. However, she lived two more years with constant failing health and died of a lingering illness. Norma has written up a report on World War II years to give future generations a glimpse of what we faced as a family and how Mother viewed it and her concern. The morning of December 7, 1941, President Roosevelt announced over the radio that Japanese war planes had attacked Manila in the Phillipines and Pearl Harbor in Hawaii. The attack came out of the sky above the still sleeping city of Honolulu about 8:00 A.M. on a beautiful Sunday morning. In the United States it was early afternoon and a million Americans were glued to the radio sets listening (no T.V. sets then) to their favorite football games, then suddenly the dramatic announcement that America’s principal Naval Base had been virtually destroyed by the Japanese. Pearl Harbor had been the home of the largest and greatest Navy in the world. Many Americans did not know where Pearl Harbor was located, some thought it was in China. President Roosevelt later addressed the American people and called December 7th a day that will live in infamy. America was completely caught off guard. 2,330 Americans were killed and 1,145 wounded. It was the most humiliating defeat ever suffered by American Forces. Japan had won the most smashing victory ever achieved at the start of Modern War. The attack had tremendous consequences. The European War instantly became a global conflict and the immense resources of the United States were now thrown against Germany and Japan. All America was alerted and every man of eligible age was ordered into uniform. History tells that the first five months for the United States seemed to be a losing battle, but a Japanese General was heard to remark that they feared they had awakened a “Sleeping Giant”. At the time of the attack peace talks were being made in Washington, D.C. No declaration of war had been made, yet in the final summation the calculated treachery did not pay. The war ended in crushing defeat for those who started it. Just 1,364 days after it began it ended on the deck of a United States Battleship, “The Missouri”, not in Pearl Harbor but in “Tokyo Bay”. Terms of the surrender were signed September 2, 1945 by Admiral C. W. Nimitz who represented the United States. On the home front December 7, 1941, a number of the family had gathered at Mother’s home. The womenfolk and children were left to visit while the men went to Mud Lake on a rabbit hunt. Gene, Ryland and Ellwood Lufkin were in the group, also brothers-in-law Bill Price, Dean Hanni and LaMar Burke. It was late evening when they returned. The women had later congregated at the home of Maxine and Dean Hanni, who were living in Annis where the home of Ellwood and Wanda Lufkin is now located. The men returned after an enjoyable day, to some anxious and upset women, only to hear the news of the bombing of Pearl Harbor. The war continued to be of great concern to Mother. Two of her grandsons, Blaine and Dean Rose, their son-in-law Clarence Barney, husband of Edith Rose and two nephews, Lawrence and Douglas Lufkin, sons of Quill and Maggie Lufkin were just the right age to be called into the service. Blaine served in the Pacific Theatre under the command of General Douglas McArthur and Dean in the European Theatre under the command of General George Patton, commonly known as “Blood and Guts” Patton (their blood and his guts) and General Omar Bradley. Clarence Barney also served in the European Theatre (we’re not sure about the command). Lawrence saw action in New Guinea and the Philippines with the 11th Airborne Division. Plans were made to invade Japan, had not the atom bomb been dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Douglas was too young to serve when the war started, but enlisted in the Navy about one year before it ended. He served or saw action at Okinawa and the Pacific Islands and was sent to Japan after the atomic bombs had been dropped. Mother grieved a great deal over these young men, they were her constant concern. Much to our sorrow, she passed away on July 28, 1945, just one month before the unconditional surrender of Japan. America rallied to the cause. Thousands of acts of patriotism have been recorded and thousands more have gone unmentioned. I never tire of hearing of the bravery and courage shown in all areas. Rationing books were issued and many important items such as gas, sugar, butter, shortening, sheets, canvas, denim overalls or anything needed for the war effort, we were called on to sacrifice. The hardest part of all was seeing choice young men called to serve their country, not knowing whether they would come back. The dropping of the atomic bomb was a terrible decision for President Truman to make, but as Mrs. Truman stated, “Harry always placed high value on the life of a single American boy. If the war with Japan had been allowed to continue it would have claimed the lives of at least a million American soldiers and many more would have been maimed for life. It is difficult to calculate the number of Japanese lives that would have been lost, as many or more, undoubtedly as there were civilians that died at Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Even though it is hard to look at it this way, the atom bomb was the lesser weapon.” A granddaughter, Thelma Rose Stosich, tells of an incident that happened when she was just a girl living at the family home. It was frightening. During the wintertime, when they were having sub zero weather, that Grandma Lufkin became lonesome to see her daughter Verna and her family, living at Humphrey, Idaho, about seventy-five miles to the north. She got an urge that couldn't be quelled, so she induced Grandpa to take her to the train at Roberts. He probably had misgivings about her going alone under the circumstances, but discouraging her would be out of the question. Since there was no way of letting the family know she was coming, they were not aware of her plans. The temperature at Humphrey was somewhat colder than at home. While she knew the Rose home was at least a mile from the station she never realized the hazards of walking that far in the cold. She put her hands over her face to protect it, but her neck was exposed and became frostbitten. Battling the cold made her weary, despite the desire to sit down and rest and out of fear of freezing to death, she struggled on, finally reaching the house. She knocked on the door and when it was opened she was viewed by several faces that displayed looks of complete shock. She was nearly frozen, but with their loving care and attention, she was revived. The more Verna thought about the seriousness of the situation, the more frightening it became to her causing a sickening feeling that would be hard to describe. The frost damaged the skin on her neck, causing increased wrinkling, that stayed with her the rest of her days. Maxine speaking--- I have many regrets for the anguish I caused my Mother, but looking hindsight doesn't change the picture one iota. It seemed to take years of experience to make me realize her worth. Perhaps in helping to write her life story I can compensate a little, in maybe generating a desire for excellence in her posterity, to make them realize their value and responsibility in honoring her memory. **re-typed up by Ronda Kay Burke Mills, Great Granddaughter of Alice Ann Heaps Lufkin through her daughter Norma Lufkin, on to Family Search for all to enjoy in May 2014

Minutes of the Lufkin Family Reunion - July 4, 1945

Contributor: Robert Mortimer Created: 2 years ago Updated: 2 years ago

The family gathered at Pleasant Valley and after greeting (with hugs and kisses, talk and pushing) a picnic lunch was served. Logs were rolled up to a table fashioned from the floors of two old cabins. Lunch consisted of sandwiches -- six different kinds, salads, assorted pickles, olives, cheese, deviled eggs, radishes, baked beans, several kinds of cake, cookies and assorted flavors of ice cream. The program was as follows: Poem: "June Moon" read by Preston Rose Song: "I Don't Want to Play in Your Yard" sung by Madelon & Loaine Lufkin Quartet: "My Wild Irish Rose" & "Bell Bottom Trousers" by The Lufkin Boys, Roy, Ryland, Gene, Ellwood Accompanied by Alba Lufkin on her violin Reading: "A Letter to Hans & Fritz" & "Do You Want to Buy One Tom Cat?". by LaMar Burke Chorus: "Ridin Down the Canyon" byGrandsons Brian, George, Cordell Lufkin and Forrest and Val Dean Hanni Violin Solo: "Scout March" & "Sweetheart of All My Dreams" by Alba Lufkin Poem: "Dan Duck" and "Things I Like To See" by Oran Lufkin Duet: "Paddle Your Own Canoe" by LaPreal Lufkin & Georgia Hanni Story: "Story about a Dog" & "A Modern Version of Cinderella" by Grace Price Duet: "Git Along Little Doggies" by Madelon Lufkin & Georgia Hanni Poem: "The Elephant" by Carol Rose Reading: "Growing Pains" by Alba Lufkin Comments by Grandpa George T. Lufkin: Related how 42 years previous he had entered Snake River Valley with Verna, Roy and one other son (LaVar, deceased) and that his posterity is great at this time with 8 children and 30 grandchildren. He and his wife were 68 and 69 at this time. Said he's proud of his family and their children. That he hopes and prays that they will all be united soon and would like to have the boys in the service be with us and relate their experiences. Thanked the Lord for the Blessings he has had and for his posterity. Thankful that his wife was recovered from her sickness of last spring and feels that it is a blessing that she can be alive today. It is his wish that this family will meet together for years and converse with each other and continue the reunion. Also, keep records so that we know where each of the family is. Asked that the Lord bless us. That the people that build are the ones that get behind things and go ahead with them. These things he asked, "In the name of Jesus"-- Poem: "I Would Rather Have A Rose" by Ellwood Lufkin Grandpa Lufkin suggested that we adopt legally Wilbur Onius Scott. Response by Wilbur Scott: "One of the wise guys on the way up said they would give me all the Lufkin "B.S." I said I was thankful for it because I think the Lufkins are "damned nice people". Grandma Alice Ann Lufkin expressed the wish that we continue these gatherings. Said her people had always met and that they mostly sang. Said she was the only one left and felt lonesome for that but felt lucky to be here (not that she was old or anything like that). Said she hoped these children continued to sing as that was always her hobby. She said that was all she had to say. George had said the rest. We closed our program by singing, "God Bless America" by all the family. Also sang "Idaho". Norma said this program was arranged by Grace, Verna, Maxine and herself and that she supposed we'd like to them. **re-typed up by Ronda Kay Burke Mills, granddaughter to Norma Lufkin and Samuel LaMar Burke, on to Family Search in May 2014 for all to enjoy

Memories of Mother by Edith, Dean, Roger, Melvin, & Thelma - compiled by Edith Rose Barney in 1985

Contributor: Robert Mortimer Created: 2 years ago Updated: 2 years ago

Mother told me (Edith) that when she and Uncle Roy were quite little, they watched the ducks swimming in the slough along with their little ones, and seeing a mother hen with her chicks, wondered why they were not swimming. It was soon decided that if they put them in some water, they could surely learn to swim, so they put them in the rain barrell; and, of course, drowned every one. I guess Grandma Alice Ann Lufkin was rather angry. Then she told about the chicken gizzards. She had to clean and cook chickens for supper, she was not very old. Grandma was sick or out helping the sick or something. When she dressed them, she did not take out the lining of the gizzards, which was Grandpa's favorite. Grandma saw him trying to cut them up. and immediately turned to Mother and said, "Verna, you didn't take the lining out of the gizzard's." Grandpa spoke up quickly and said that was just the way he liked them. So for years when Mom cooked chicken she always left the lining in the gizzards, as that was just the way Grandpa liked them. She told me that she had never loved her father more than when he stuck up for her that day. This story was when she was much older, but we always got such a kick out of it, so we have to tell it. Everyone knows how hospitable the folks always were, but this one time Mother was cooking a special birthday dinner for one of the neighbors, I have forgotten who. There was chicken and noodles, and the whole works. Along about this time the hide buyers stopped to buy hides. Mother got Dad aside and told him that under no circumstances were they to be invited to dinner. He agreed, absolutely not! She the table all set, white tablecloth and all, and just enough room for the family and invited guests. So, they were not invited in, but one of them came to the door and asked if they could buy a dozen eggs for their lunch, and would Mom cook them? She boiled them up and put them in a sack for them, but when they came in to get the eggs, they walked right on through to the dining room and sat down at the table. They sat the eggs down between them and ate the eggs, chicken and noodles, cake and ice cream and the whole bit. I can see them yet in their old, dirty ragged stinking clothes, sitting at Mom's nice table. Mom said when she was only six years old, she had to stand on a chair over the stove and make cottage cheese for breakfast, and how she learned to make gravy and cook. She always worked hard. Three Stories of Verna Rose by Blaine Rose Three stories of Verna Rose which, to me illustrates her fearless determination in protecting her chickens, home, and family---- Late in the fall, after we had moved into our new house from the old "Wooliver" place, I had gone back over the hill to get my sled. (I do not remember why I had gone up over the hill and down to the cemetery instead of following the road.) Shortly after leaving, a blizzard came up and mother became worried and tried to follow me. Somehow she got turned around and went nearly to Idaho Hollow before dropping into the draw and following it down to the house. I had been home two hours before she returned exhausted. I am sure that she was not properly clothed for that weather, but would never have stopped had I not been home when she returned. Another time La Rae was home sick on a winters day and I had put a lot of wood in the front room heater to keep her warm. She was sitting by the stove drinking peppermint tea. Mother and I were in the kitchen when I heard a crackling sound and went into the front room to find the ceiling above the stove on fire. The only water in the house was a full ten gallon milk can and, in seconds, the fire would have been out of control. Mother grabbed that milk can and threw water up to the ceiling and put the fire out. I am sure she never raised a son who could have performed that feat. One March day, when the snow was still deep, a skunk came out from back of the garage and headed up the draw. Mother knew he would be hungry and after her chickens. We had deer rifles, 22's, and shotguns, none of which she had ever fired. She grabbed the 410 shotgun and looked through the ammunition until she found a shell that looked right, loaded the gun and fired from the doorway. I am sure that Mr. Skunk never knew what hit him! One of my fondest memories is of times, on nice spring days, when she would pack a lunch (and usually a baby) and meet the school kids at the head of the cemetery draw for lunch. Also, the countless times when she would take a half cooked dinner off the stove and pack it in the car to finish cooking in the "timber". She never refused acting on such a suggestion from any of us. **originally included in the book Lufkin Legends: 1985 **re-typed up by Ronda Kay Burke Mills, Granddaughter to Verna's younger sister Norma Lufkin Burke on to Family Search for all to enjoy in May 2014

"Remembrances of Roy" - by Alice, La Preal and Doyle

Contributor: Robert Mortimer Created: 2 years ago Updated: 2 years ago

George LeRoy "Roy" Lufkin - July 29, 1899 to October 3, 1950 As a little boy, Roy loved to play marbles. Evenings were spent drawing a large circle with chalk on the kitchen floor and then playing "the" game. With much practice, he became very good and knew just how much "english" to put on the marble. He remembered well one night enjoying a game of marbles on the floor with his younger brothers, only to wake the next morning to learn that his baby brother, John Henry, had died during the night with "croup". This was a tragic time for the entire Lufkin family. Hard work was his way of life. He learned as a small boy to take on large responsibilities and became and excellent farmer. As teenagers, Roy and Verna would travel up to Antelope where the George T. Lufkin family had a dry farm. Verna would cook and keep house for Roy and he would harness several head of horses and do the work of a man. They only got to come home every other weekend. This was quite an experience for two young kids. It was there that Verna and Roy enjoyed eating the famous "dry farm potatoes". Whenever Roy would cook at home he would brew up his favorite dish, which consisted of potatoes and onions fried in bacon grease with a little water, salt, and pepper. Cooked to perfection, they are super!!! Later in life, Roy learned to play pool which was very similar to playing marbles for him. One winter he worked with his Uncle Jess Riley who was married to his dad's sister, Martha. Uncle Jess worked for Utah-Idaho Sugar Company and they were feeding a large herd of cattle. When the cattle were topped-out, they were loaded onto the railroad cars and transported to California for market. Of course, someone had to go along and feed the animals, load and unload them each night and morning and see that they were well cared for. Roy went along on this trip and helped. After the cattle were fed and bedded down at the railroad cattle corral, Roy decided to go into town and see what was happening. He walked into a pool room where there were several men playing pool. He managed to get into the game and before long a little money was being placed. At the end of the night, Roy had cleaned up on the other men and had more money in his pocket than he had ever had before. The men wanted to know if he would be around for a few days. Roy was pretty sharp. He said he would be in town for 3 or 4 days; knowing full well that they were leaving bright and early the next morning. He knew he would have been "rolled" had he answered otherwise. Roy loved music and liked to sing. Some of his favorite songs were: "I Love You Truly" "Let Me Call You Sweetheart", "Always", "Peanut Sat on a Railroad Track", "The Big Baboon". and "Freckles". Pete and Ellen Geisler's home was the center of attraction on Sunday afternoons. The Geislers' had a player piano with all the latest tunes and the young folks loved to gather around the piano and sing. Many pleasant times were had at the Geisler home. It was on one of those occasions that the young folks talked up a trip to Yellowstone National Park. Those in on the plans were Roy and his girlfriend, Alice Goody, Gene and his girlfriend, Zelpha Ellis, and Bob Geisler and his girlfriend, Glenda Pettingill. Now the only way the parents would allow them to go to the Park would be to have chaperons. Pete and Mrs. Geisler were just the two that would be trusted with this group. Geisler's had a new 1925 Chevrolet, blue in color and the Lufkin's had a Model T Ford. Plans were made and they were soon on their way. They were gone 3 or 4 days and had a wonderful time. Back then the roads were dirt and very narrow and winding. When they got to the Park they heard funny little whistles and looking ahead they would see the park buses coming around the bend. This was their signal to get out of the way. It was nothing to see 40 or 50 bears and of course, they fed them and had a great time. They saw a lot of buffalo and other animals well known to the park. The Park didn't have walkways around the geysers then and you could walk right up and look down into Old Faithful Geyser. They felt the hot water and steam on their faces and enjoyed full view of Old Faithful. They slept in tents and cooked their meals outdoors and had a lot of fun talking and singing. One night about dark, the fellows came up missing and didn't come back for quite a while. Pete and Mrs. Geisler decided that it was bedtime and the girls were all tucked in bed when the young bucks finally returned. Needless to say, they were disappointed, as they had planned to go dancing. The next night about the same thing happened, only this time, the girls slipped away too, as they wanted to find out just what those guys were doing. They went over to the Lodge and couldn't see the fellows; but, they heard the band playing and not being able to resist, they went inside to take a peek. Well, it didn't take those three brown eyed beauties any time at all to be asked to dance. By and by, Bob, Gene, and Roy came in and found their girls in the arms of three other guys. Being good sport, they waited until the music stopped before cutting in on the intruders. You better believe that they kept their sweethearts in their arms the rest of the dance. Needless to say, the joke was on them. They climbed along the terraces at Mammoth and while sliding down a hill, Zelpha lost the seat of her pants. That was probably the biggest problem of the trip, at least to her. Upon leaving the park, they traveled on to Jackson Hole. They had many thrills negotiating the hairpin curves on the pass. They had to get out and push a few times, but it was fun. If going up was a problem, you should have seen them coming down on the Idaho side of the pass. Roy didn't have gears to shift down with and I've been told that it was a ride they'll never forget. This was a great trip for all three couples. Pete, Mrs. Geisler and younger sonn, Clyde had a wonderful time too. Sports played a very important part in his life. He loved to go see the Idaho Falls Russets Baseball games. He kept up on the Major league teams and loved the "World Series". He read and talked about Babe Ruth, Ty Cobb and all the "Greats". Roy liked to box and wrestle. He had lots of fun wrestling with his younger brothers as well as Edward Hall and the Drake boys. Of course, he taught Doyle a few tricks too. To him, "The Brown Bomber", Joe Louis and Jack Dempsey were tops in the boxing arena. He liked the basketball games and was a loyal supporter of the Midway Pirates. In 1936, Roy was a member of the Annis, Idaho, School District #49. After much saving, the District had enough money to buy a new school bus. Roy and Alice had saved enough money to buy themselves a new car too. They, along with Victor and Whaneta Hall and Octava Bybee, all traveled back east to get the cars at Flint, Michigan and Octava got a new Ford at Detroit, and the bus was purchased at Lima. Ohio. They traveled by caravan back to Idaho; what a sight that must have been. Roy stopped along the way picking up hitchhikers, helping them travel to the west. There were times that 10 or 15 people were in the bus all at the same time. People in the dust bowl area of Nebraska had been hit hard with the drought. They were destitute and leaving their homes to head west for work. Roy was a very generous person and it was his pleasure to give these people a ride. One couple traveled clear to Ogden, Utah, where they planned to pick fruit. Not everyone would dare pick up strangers, but Roy did! Roy always fed cattle in the winter time. After the chores were all done it wasn't unusual for several men to gather around the dining room table and play pinochle. On one particular day, J.B. Yoder, a boarder at Roy and Alice's, Uncle George (an Uncle to George T. Lufkin), either Bill or Quill Lufkin and Roy were playing a "hot game of Pinochle". They were playing "hard nosed" and believe you me, they were very serious about this game. No slip-ups!!! You must study and play smart! Just at a moment of intense playing, Doyle (about 7 or 8 years old) came through the bedroom door and stopped by the big coal stove. Taking a peek at his dad, he noticed his cigarette in his mouth; and with a quick draw, he shot his dart gun and popped that cigarette right out of Roy's mouth!! The cigarette exploded all over the table and just for a few seconds, so did Roy! J.B. Yoder nearly fell off his chair laughing, but some of the other men didn't think it was so funny. After a minute or two it became a big joke. Doyle shall never forget this experience. Roy liked nicknames. He was called "Dutch" by his old friends, he called his sweetheart and wife Alice, either "Tillie" or "Pouchie"; Doyle was "Ikie" and LaPreal was called "Queenie" or "Susie Q". Roy was a natural with animals and kids. He loved them and knew how to handle them both. He took great pride in his horses and was an excellent horsemen. It was a great thrill to watch him step up onto the tongue of the wagon loaded with beets, settle his horses and then when everything was just right, he would talk to them in a LOUD, CLEAR VOICE and then those horses would dig down, bellies nearly to the ground and together they would heave and pull that huge load out of the deep mud and onto the road. The love between driver and horse was deep and sincere. They trusted each other. Kids loved Roy and he would tease and joke with them and tell them BIG STORIES and then slip them a nickel, dime, quarter or even a dollar if they would sing him a song, perform some kind of talent, or catch him a mess of fish. The only derogatory statement I ever heard him say against his own family was, "If I had my life to live over, I would have 6 kids or none, two are just a nuisance." Then he would fondly look at us and grin. Reading was very important part of his life. He loved history and kept up on the news, reading the newspaper daily. He was a staunch Republican and a conservative person. He wasn't much for movies and Saturday nights would find Alice and the kids at the movies with Roy stopping off at the "White-Way Barber Shop", where Ed Winchester would cut his hair. All the men from around Rigby met there for a visit. You could always tell if a man had been to see Ed Winchester. Ed would put his special hair tonic on them and you could smell them for half a block. They smelled REAL GOOD!! **originally in the book Lufkin Legends : 1985 **re-typed up by Ronda Kay Burke Mills, Granddaughter of Norma Lufkin Burke, Roy's younger sister, on to Family Search for all to enjoy in May 2014

Some Childhood Memories by Thomas Eugene Lufkin

Contributor: Robert Mortimer Created: 2 years ago Updated: 2 years ago

"Old Billy" I remember that Dad was sheriff at the time and a guy came and needed some money and wanted to sell him a goat. Dad bought the goat - - it wasn't worth two bits but as I recollect, he gave the man a dollar and a half or something like that and brought the goat home. He wasn't really mean, just mischievous. We all had a lot of fun with him, but our dog Trip didn't like him and they really went round and round. The dog hated the goat and the goat hated the dog. We also had a big red Durham bull at the time and he and Old Billy didn't like each other either and were always at odds. Billy would watch his chance and when everything was just right, he would get all wound up and uncoil and hit the bull right in the head with his horns ending up putting the bull to flight. After awhile he got mean, especially with the women and girls. He had them climbing into the wagons and any place they could get to get out of the way. Roy often brought a girlfriend home to Sunday dinner and the girls would get out there and really have a time. They all had to be careful that they had something they could climb onto whenever Billy was around. Mother was so mad at him because they couldn't go out in the yard without him chasing them. Jim McMurtrey, up on the Joe Fisher ranch near Blacks Canyon, had some sheep and he got the idea that maybe if he had that goat to run with his sheep that it would keep the coyotes away from them. So we took him up there and let Jim keep him. It wasn't very long until he called up one day and said, "George, come up here and get this G.D. goat. My wife's gonna kill me." Billy wouldn't stay with the sheep. He wanted to be near the house so we had to go get him and bring him back down home. Jim's wife was going to kill him--now Mother was going to kill Dad, so something had to be done with the goat. Dad made a deal with a guy from Roberts for him to take the goat. He had sheep and later on he was to bring us some mutton in trade for the goat, which he finally did. It was in the winter - cold - and we had about half of a mutton hanging on the end of the house - in those days we didn't have refrigerators. The dog went up and got a whiff of that and he recognized "Old Billy". I think instead of it being goat, it was a "ghost" as far as Trip was concerned and he took off and we didn't see him for two or three days. It really did something to him. The dog knew --he knew the smell. When we found out it was Billy we had to throw the meat away - - none of us could eat "Old Billy". That was the end of our "Billy" goat. "Roy and the Well" When we lived in the log house across from Jim Scott's we had an open well a little bit to the south from which we had to draw the water up in a bucket. There was a water trough (a big log several feet long that had been hollowed out to hold the water) near where we watered the stock. A sort of flume was attached to the well. We'd pull the water up in the bucket, and empty it into the flume which carried it to the trough. One day Roy and I were playing in the yard; I don't remember anyone else being around. Roy was playing around the well and I suppose he stepped into the bucket and tried to pull himself up and down like we did the water, but he lost control and couldn't pull his weight up. The rope kept slipping through his hands and the bucket with him in it kept going down until it reached the bottom. It was early spring and there was very little water in the well. I remember Roy screaming, "Get me out of here, get me out of here." Partly in fear and partly in pain because his hands were terribly rope burned. I ran to Mother for help. I was only about seven years old so Roy had to be about eleven. I don't remember who all came to help but I do remember Uncle Jim Scott being there. I suppose they had Roy stand in the bucket as they pulled him up. That part is all rather hazy in my memory, but I can still hear him screaming, "Get me out of here, get me out of here." All ended "well", it was just another one of those lessons that we learn in life. "Visit In Escalante" In October 1909, just before I was six years of age, my mother made a trip back to Escalante for a visit; as she had been away for seven years. She took Grace, Maxine and me. Verna and Roy stayed with Dad and went to school. Grace was three years old and Maxine was only nine months. I remember riding the train to Salt Lake where we had quite a long wait. I also remember sleeping on a hard bench. Mother had quite a hard time taking care of us kids. When we got to Marysvale, Uncle George Campbell was there to meet us with a covered wagon which had a stove in it. There was two or three other wagons along. They made cheese in Escalante and would bring it out to Marysvale and we camped two different nights on the way. The mountain we went over was similar to the way Jackson Pass used to be. When we got to Escalante the family was all out there to meet us. They hadn't seen Mother for over seven years and they were all happy as larks. We stayed at Grandma Heaps where Aunt Lillie, Uncle George and their two children Larue and Clawson lived with her. Larue was Grace's age. We entered right into the ward affairs and Mother really enjoyed getting back into the old groove - meeting the folks, friends, etc. We figured we'd stay there about a month, but the snow came and got so deep that we couldn't get over the mountain. It was a bad winter and we didn't get out until April; but, we enjoyed every minute of it. Uncle Willard's home was just through the block from Grandma's and their son, Ferrin, was just my age so we played together all winter. I think we played in all the barns in town with several other boys our age. One day we were out at the wood pile where Ferrin and I were playing with the axe. In the process Grace got her front teeth knocked loose. She stooped over to look just as the axe came up and it hit her in the mouth. Ferrin swears to this day that he was wielding the axe and I swear that I was the guilty one. Consequently, we have a big argument every time we meet. It hurt like the devil, but Grace was a very forgiving person and didn't hold it against us. Uncle George had to haul water from Escalante Creek about 150 to 200 yards from the house. He used a skid and a 50 gallon barrel with a sack over it - he'd let me ride the skid. Sometimes he would go up on the mountain for cedar wood and he'd let me go along. I can still smell that cedar. During all this time, Mother was visiting and enjoying herself. They all treated us so good. Grandma Heaps was a fine old lady and I think she only thumped me on the head two or three times. We all got along real well. When the road over the mountain got so we could get through, Uncle George took us out to Marysvale to the train. They loaded the covered wagon the night before and backed it into the hay barn. After some sad goodbyes the next morning, we hooked the team onto the wagon and took off. After we had been on the road about an hour, we heard a hen cackle in the rear of the wagon. It was a little blue hen. She had built herself a nest in the hay and didn't say a word until she had laid an egg and then cackled to tell us about it. I remember it was a little brown egg and Grace and I divided it for supper. We couldn't keep the hen so it was decided that we would have her for dinner the next day. When we got back to Rigby it was snowing like mad and Dad met us there with a white-top buggy. He was tickled to death to see us and I think Dad actually kissed mother. **originally typed up in the book Lufkin Legends: 1985 ** re-typed up by Ronda Kay Burke Mills, Granddaughter to Norma Lufkin Burke, younger sister to Thomas Eugene Lufkin, on to Family Search, for all to enjoy in May 2014

“Growing Up With Mother and Dad Price” By Bill, Donald and June

Contributor: Robert Mortimer Created: 2 years ago Updated: 2 years ago

Bill recalls – It’s interesting how, as the years go by, we forget so much of our past and at the same time rerun some memories until they are so thoroughly engrained as to never be forgotten. Such are the vivid memories of our camping trips; the anticipation attendant to the planning, the pleasure of the doing, then the pleasant memories recalled especially with the heat and work of the following summer. Today as I cleaned up our Coleman double burner stove, I remember the sounds and the smell of our old Western Field stove that fried many a potato, cooked pancakes by the score and boiled coffee in the old tin coffee pot as black on the outside as the brew within. The tent that is presently self standing in our living room shaped out by fiberglass rods, brings memories of the heavy canvas tent supported by a sturdy center pole and four rods going out to the corners designed to last a decade plus and equal to the wear of Mom, Dad and three kids who loved to head for the mountains. With a little effort I can even recall the smell of the tent as it warmed under Western skies. There was a heavy-duty cardboard box that seemed to be indestructible, made originally, as I recall, to be a case for some beverage. This was our food box that reminded me of the horn of plenty so often did it pour forth the good things that Mom put together for our camping trips. I think we become attached to such inanimate objects because they become symbols in our minds representing shared time together as a family unit, united by a bond of love for the great outdoors. Camping was also the reward for summer work and a respite from the heat of the valley. Early on there was beet thinning, then beet hoeing followed by weeding potatoes and the first cutting of hay. If Dad had the irrigating caught up, it was following the first cutting that we packed up the old “Chev”. Work made play significant. It seemed as if Dad’s middle name was work, as that is what he did from dawn until dusk with very little time left over for non life-supporting activities. Eat, sleep and work was his program for summer I have often marveled that Dad was able to operate a hundred and twenty acre farm with a twelve horsepower tractor. Those were not easy times. Cash was in short supply, so we dealt with commodities. I have a resurgence of appreciation for Mom as I recall what she did to feed and raise her family. Many a Saturday morning we laid chicken necks to the old chopping block. It just occurred to me that my six children have probably never seen how a chicken seems to live on for a few moments flopping grotesquely around after the axe has fallen. I never liked to scald the birds nor pluck the feathers. The smell was terrible. Mom was extra careful in pulling out pin feathers and singeing off the hair with a burning rolled up newspaper. The usual routine was for one of we three kids to hold the chicken by the feet while she poured scalding hot water over the chicken to facilitate removing the feathers. Finally, after eggs were cleaned and packed, butter churned and chickens ready to go, Mom would leave for Idaho Falls to trade the eggs for dental work. I guess what I’m saying is that summer life seemed to be full of daily work for all. The only time we were able to escape work for a few days was when we headed for the Hoback Road, Jenny Lake or Loon Lake. Even during the war years we were able to slip a five-gallon can of tractor gas into the trunk in order to get out to our favorite camping area. One such war year trip that was especially memorable was up the Hoback area of Wyoming. I think there was one other family in the campground, and they had kids of our approximate age. I’ll never forget one of the girls saying to Donald, “Terrify tissue?” That stands out in my mind plus a few other things that happened. Two young men had been practically living off fish so they traded us fish for oranges. Dad found the tracks of a cougar that came through the campground during the night. That really made for excited kids when night came again, and we just knew that it was close to our tent. We drove up into the mountains and found a small swimming pool totally out in the open. I can’t remember if the water was cold or warm. While there at the pool we saw a bear on the side of the mountain across from us. I have lots of good memories of that trip. Mom and Dad were both good campers. Dad was especially skillful with the axe. I doubt if I will ever be able to make wood chips as big as he did. He knew just the right angle for the cut and was expert in making the blade hit exactly where he wanted it in the notch. Except for gathering the firewood and few other small chores, the three kids were left to indulge themselves in exploring. I will always remember those summer camping trips for the closeness they brought us as we listened to the sounds of the night all snug in our tent protected by the security of family. Don remembers – Mother had a lovely singing voice. She sang a solo in my eighth grade school play and also sang in the Relief Society choir in the old Crowley schoolhouse. I recall her singing a song to me called, “Two Little Boys” when I was six years old and in the first grade. She must have inherited her talent from Grandpa and Grandma Lufkin as they both had beautiful voices. I understand Grandpa took voice lessons. I wonder if they give lessons in hollering, as I would surely excel. Dad and Mother taught us many things, such basics as loyalty, refrain from lying and tattling as well as others. She was adamant about keeping our problems and discussing within the home and could catch us in a lie every time. As a result, we thought twice and decided to tell the truth even though it could result in a good walloping. We simply took our chances. In the folks’ business dealings there never seemed to be a contract needed. Their word was good enough. I remember our going with Dad and Mother to pay the gas bill at Fletcher Oil Company at the end of the farming season. Mr. Verran would go to the corner service station and buy ice cold soda pop for us. I think one of the flavors was crème from Roselle Bottling Works in Pocatello. Junie was going through some boxes out in the old granary and found a check written to Fletcher Oil Co. dated February 16, 1931 for the whopping amount of $20.20 which probably took care of the gas for the entire spring’s plowing and seeding. Our visit to Fletcher Oil was one of the highlights of our summer. We all looked forward to our annual camping trip between haycuttings. Dad would send Mother to town for supplies. One summer when our ’37 Chevrolet was quite new Dad sent Mother to town to buy some items similar to what he had seen in the Sears Catalog. She came home with a new trailer, tent, stove, lantern, chairs (camping) and other gear. The groceries she bought for the trip came to around $12.00 and were enough for two weeks with some left over. Our much loved Chev took us to Loon Lake for a few days then on to Flagg Ranch, Jackson Hole and finally to Hoback. Bill may still have the old trailer as he put all new wood on it. I think the year was 1934 when Dad bought a ton and a half flat bed truck. We drove to Humphrey by was of Camas which was quite a trip then. The big rodeo was on at Lima so we all loaded up on the back end of the truck and headed for the festivities. The Rose family had a friend, Pat Brown, who rode pick up. One unruly horse wouldn’t settle down so Pat clamped down on its ear with his teeth until the bronc was saddled. I will never forget that. Mother and Dad were hard working people. In order to get all their land in farming condition they had to cut down groves of trees and willows and fill in swales. We all had our chores as most farm kids do, but we also took time for play. One frosty winter day after Bill was born, Junie and I were looking out our small kitchen window and saw Mother fly by on an early version of a snow machine, more like a snow plane. Calvin Passey, Haderlie’s hired man, put it together, and it consisted of a Star engine, Star frame, four runners and a large propeller with all the other necessary parts. Mother really enjoyed riding the machine. As late as 1938 it was still out to Mud Lake. We had good and bad times growing up but never lacked for love and the necessities of life. Mother and Dad were always there to counsel and care for hurt fingers and feelings. June recollects – I too recall the depression years when I was around six years old perhaps a little younger (revealing my age). We each had our chores and did them sometimes grudgingly, especially in the winter but were always rewarded with Mother’s delicious homemade bread with freshly churned butter. Trudging through snow to our waists was more palatable knowing that a warm toasty kitchen was awaiting us with parents to listen to the day’s school events. Our summers were very busy, as Bill mentioned, working in the fields and planning for our annual camping trip. Dad’s day never ended. He was up at intervals all night irrigating. He related some of his feelings to Aunt Norma about this particular chore. Just before the end of the war in Europe, there was some doubt as to Hitler’s whereabouts. Dad said that if he could capture him, the worst punishment he could inflict on the man would be to put him in gum boots irrigating crops. I also looked forward to our campouts at Loon Lake and Hoback. Each summer we made one or two trips to Humphrey. I was always so excited about the preparation as well as the trip, I invariably ended up with a tummy ache which Aunt Verna treated with peppermint in a glass of hot water. I’m not sure whether it was the peppermint that cured my hurt or Aunt Verna’s tender loving care. I like to think it was the latter. I enjoyed all the Rose kids who made us feel so welcome. I remember one particular time in the early thirties when crime was running rampant in the Midwest. We were camped at Idaho Hollow and the big news and headlines in the papers were of the escapades of such gangsters as Pretty Boy Floyd, Baby Face Nelson, and the worst of them all, John Dillinger. They were on the run terrorizing Kansas and Oklahoma. In my young mind and the rest of we kids, those states were next door to Idaho, and any minute they would be heading up the road to our campsite and kill us all. Needless to say, none of us strayed from the campfire and the protective closeness of our parents. We spent practically every Sunday at Grandpa and Grandma Lufkin’s. It was the center of activity for all our families. I still think of Grandma’s kitchen when I smell cinnamon and nutmeg. Grandma’s home remedies cured many afflictions. Dad and Grandpa always managed a friendly discussion of politics. Dad was a staunch Democrat disagreeing wholeheartedly with Grandpa’s Republican philosophy. Mother loved music and dancing. I remember as a little girl that she would put a record on the old Victrola and grab one of us and dance around the room. When we got too big to carry, a broom became her dance partner. Mother was a good dancer but finally had to give it up due to her breathing problem. Her love of music came naturally. All the Lufkin family had beautiful voices. Don, Bill, and I recall listening to Grandpa, Uncle Quil, Uncle Roy, Uncle Gene, Uncle Ryland and Uncle Jess Riley singing, “I’ll Take You Home Again, Kathleen”, “Down by the Old Mill Stream”, and “Abide With Me”. (I hope I haven’t left anyone out.) It was a real treat to we children for them to sing these beautiful songs. Our tradition of taking food to family gatherings started a long time ago. I will always remember Aunt Martha Riley coming to our house with sharp cheddar cheese. It was my job to take all the ladies coats to our bedroom and stack them neatly on our bed. I fulfilled my duty while trying on all their coats and every coat fit me. How I loved my aunties’ coats. Mother told us a little story of the family dog, Trip, and his aversion to cows. As the neighbor’s cows passed by on the road in front of the house, Trip would run out and swing on their tails. Apparently it took only a couple of times for them to get wise to his tricks. They were all amused one evening to see the cows running by with their tails in the air out of the reach of Trip. I have so many fond memories of my mother and father as we all have of our parents. Mother dearly loved her parents, brothers and sisters, all her family and loved us. We miss Mother and Dad but know they are in a happier place. When Charlie and I lived in Saudi Arabia, our thoughts were always of family and how much we appreciated them. For some reason, we couldn’t imagine having to stay in the Mideast and being separated from our loved ones. We’re so happy to be home and have the opportunity to get together with everyone at our annual family reunion. We hope this tradition will carry on after we are gone. We love you all. **originally typed up in the book Lufkin Legends: 1985 **re-typed up by Ronda Kay Burke Mills, Granddaughter of Norma Lufkin Burke who is younger sister to Grace Lufkin Price on to Family Search for all to enjoy in June 2014

“Aunt Norma’s Antics” by Norma Lufkin Burke

Contributor: Robert Mortimer Created: 2 years ago Updated: 2 years ago

One of my earliest recollections was about the first of June when I was about six years old. The sugar beets had been planted, and by the time we got the potatoes planted, the beets were ready to thin and were all sent into the beet field again. I remember crawling on my hands and knees thinning the beets. Grace would use a long handled hoe and do the blocking (spacing them about a foot apart). Maxine would take one row and I would do the other. It required pulling any weeds present and leaving just one beet standing. We thought that was the hardest work in the world. The rows looked so long and the beet patch looked twice as big as it actually was. As we grew older we were allowed to use a short handled hoe and do our own blocking which was even more back breaking. Gene, Grace, Maxine, myself and eventually Ryland and Ellwood were involved. By the time the last patch was thinned the first one was ready to be weeded. It involved hoeing all the weeds and getting any double beets left and then hoeing the ends good so there would be no unsightly weeds left to go to seed. I am not good at identifying flowers but I can surely spot a weed when I see one. Dad or Roy would occasionally inspect the field and we felt it had to meet their approval. Ryland, Maxine and I took turns herding cows on a piece of pasture ground which was south and east of the beets dump which was located where Myron Lufkins home now stands. It was not fenced. There were weeds, rocks, rose briars and prickly pears that had to be walked through—real tough when we were barefooted. Often times in the summer we went without shoes and by the time Sunday came around and we had to put our feet into our best shoes, our feet were so spread out, that our shoes would hardly fit. We really felt somewhat awkward with shoes on. We had a horse called ‘Old Flax’, they say he was an Indian pony. He was really an ugly duckling. Everyone wondered why dad bothered to buy him. He turned out to be a million dollar horse to us, despite the fact that he was awfully hard to catch. The minute we took the bridle off he was gone and you had to be darn smart to catch him again. I think he could smell a rope. We would scheme every way to catch him, one of which was by hiding a small rope under our arm and taking a handful of oats out with us. He would steal the oats out of our hands and be gone before we could get the rope anywhere near him. But we loved him and once we got him caught, he was gentle. If we happened to fall off he would never leave us, but would never leave us, but would stand until we could get up and get back no. He was patient and we could pile kids on from his ears to his tail and he would not be bothered in the least. We never knew of him kicking anyone, and we could crawl under and around him without any fear. You could tell him to put his head down then throw your leg over his neck and he would quickly raise his head and flip you right up on his back. That was one of the many tricks Roy taught him. Roy could guide him without a bridle, which was necessary when he rode him out on the Big Buttes. The kids from Menan would be riding out there at the same time and the game was that if they were able to catch up with your horse they would grab the bridle, take you off and pants you. Well, with Old Flax they couldn’t because Roy would reach up and take the bridle off and then he could guide him with his hands on his neck. Together they could snake out and around and get away. Roy felt pretty safe when he was on Old Flax. Alma and Verna Rose used to live on the corner where Alice Lufkin now lives. One time Alma was away working and mother would send me down every morning with a little bucket of milk for Verna and the two children, Edith and Thelma. Anyway, mother had borrowed a double boiler from Verna and she wanted to return it one morning. Ryland got on Old Flax behind me. I had the morning’s milk in the bucket and Ryland had the double boiler. Flax didn’t want to go and was balking, so I was kicking him and trying to get him to move along because his head was practically dragging the ground. About that time Ryland whacked him on the rear end with the double boiler. A second later he crouched down and jumped right out from under us. Instantly we were sitting on the ground, milk spilled and I was furious. Ryland says that I swore a streak, I can’t imagine why? We had a goat called “Ole Billy”. What an animal! It seems like I was about 10 or 12 years old when he got him. He was really a terror. After church one Sunday a bunch of kids congregated at our place and one of the boys put a piece of ice under the goats tail. He had a short tail about five inches long which he wagged constantly as he strutted around looking like he owned the place. Anyway he clamped his tail down on the ice and was too dumb to raise it and let the ice fall out. He ran around all hunched up until the ice melted. We rolled with laughter at being able to put one over on him. It was such a sight. I guess we kids and the dogs were partly responsible for his being on the mean side. We had a dog named ‘Trip’ and all the cows in the neighborhood knew him well. He was what you might call a “tailer” instead of a “heeler”. Instead of going for their heels, he would swing on their tails. Consequently, when Trip was around, the cows soon learned to keep their tails high in the air. What a sight! Needless to say, we had a few bob tailed cows on the place before they learned. He had a small quirk of not letting any of the limbs or leaves of the trees hang down out of line without pulling at them. Everything was trimmed until it was even. Kind of strange for a dog, a goat maybe but never a dog. The Utah and Idaho Sugar Company built a beet dump on our property about where Myron Lufkin’s home now sets. I can remember playing on the beet dump with one eye on the cows I was supposed to be herding. We would get to playing sometimes and forget them and they would get into the wheat or the hay field. I got brave one day and decided to slide down the steep beet slide and ended up getting some slivers in my bloomers. I only did that once! We did some pretty crazy things just for a little entertainment. We went swimming a lot in the canal. All the neighbor kids would meet about the same time every evening after working in the fields. We didn’t have swimming suits, so the girls just wore their dresses and bloomers. (The bloomers were black sateen with elastic in the top and legs.) The boys wore their overalls. We’d swim down to the headgate on the west side of the bridge. This is the same canal which is about a quarter mile south of our place. There was quite a bunch of us like Ellen Ellis Graham, Belva and Rhoda Ellis, Beulah Scott Olsen, Alice and Doris Pierce, and anyone else that wanted to come and swim. The group varied from summer to summer, but they were great times. I was nineteen years old the last summer that I spent any time working in the fields. The word was put out that everyone was to be in the beet field Monday morning. Well, come Monday morning I got up and my face was all swollen up with the mumps. Needless to say, I was spared from the beet thinning and remained in the house to help mother. They accused me of planning it that way. Not long after that I was called to work at the telephone office in Rigby and I promised myself that I would never marry a farmer. **originally typed up in Lufkin Legends: 1985 ** re-typed up by Ronda Kay Burke Mills, Norma’s Granddaughter, on to Family Search, for all to enjoy, in June 2014

Life timeline of George Le Roy Lufkin

George Le Roy Lufkin was born on 29 Jul 1899
George Le Roy Lufkin was 4 years old when The Wright brothers make their first attempt to fly with the Wright Flyer at Kitty Hawk, North Carolina. The Wright brothers, Orville and Wilbur, were two American aviators, engineers, inventors, and aviation pioneers who are generally credited with inventing, building, and flying the world's first successful airplane. They made the first controlled, sustained flight of a powered, heavier-than-air aircraft on December 17, 1903, four miles south of Kitty Hawk, North Carolina. In 1904–05 the brothers developed their flying machine into the first practical fixed-wing aircraft. Although not the first to build experimental aircraft, the Wright brothers were the first to invent aircraft controls that made fixed-wing powered flight possible.
George Le Roy Lufkin was 15 years old when Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife, Sophie, Duchess of Hohenberg, were assassinated by a Yugoslav nationalist named Gavrilo Princip in Sarajevo, sparking the outbreak of World War I. Archduke Franz Ferdinand, Archduke of Austria-Este was a member of the imperial Habsburg dynasty, and from 1896 until his death the heir presumptive (Thronfolger) to the Austro-Hungarian throne. His assassination in Sarajevo precipitated Austria-Hungary's declaration of war against Serbia, which in turn triggered a series of events that resulted in Austria-Hungary's allies and Serbia's declaring war on each other, starting World War I.
George Le Roy Lufkin was 30 years old when The New York Stock Exchange crashes in what will be called the Crash of '29 or "Black Tuesday", ending the Great Bull Market of the 1920s and beginning the Great Depression. The New York Stock Exchange, is an American stock exchange located at 11 Wall Street, Lower Manhattan, New York City, New York. It is by far the world's largest stock exchange by market capitalization of its listed companies at US$21.3 trillion as of June 2017. The average daily trading value was approximately US$169 billion in 2013. The NYSE trading floor is located at 11 Wall Street and is composed of 21 rooms used for the facilitation of trading. A fifth trading room, located at 30 Broad Street, was closed in February 2007. The main building and the 11 Wall Street building were designated National Historic Landmarks in 1978.
George Le Roy Lufkin was 40 years old when World War II: Nazi Germany and Slovakia invade Poland, beginning the European phase of World War II. World War II, also known as the Second World War, was a global war that lasted from 1939 to 1945, although conflicts reflecting the ideological clash between what would become the Allied and Axis blocs began earlier. The vast majority of the world's countries—including all of the great powers—eventually formed two opposing military alliances: the Allies and the Axis. It was the most global war in history; it directly involved more than 100 million people from over 30 countries. In a state of total war, the major participants threw their entire economic, industrial, and scientific capabilities behind the war effort, blurring the distinction between civilian and military resources. World War II was the deadliest conflict in human history, marked by 50 to 85 million fatalities, most of whom were civilians in the Soviet Union and China. It included massacres, the genocide of the Holocaust, strategic bombing, premeditated death from starvation and disease and the only use of nuclear weapons in war.
George Le Roy Lufkin was 45 years old when World War II: The Allied invasion of Normandy—codenamed Operation Overlord—begins with the execution of Operation Neptune (commonly referred to as D-Day), the landing of 155,000 Allied troops on the beaches of Normandy in France. The Allied soldiers quickly break through the Atlantic Wall and push inland in the largest amphibious military operation in history. The Allies of World War II, called the United Nations from the 1 January 1942 declaration, were the countries that together opposed the Axis powers during the Second World War (1939–1945). The Allies promoted the alliance as a means to control German, Japanese and Italian aggression.
George Le Roy Lufkin died on 3 Oct 1950 at the age of 51
Grave record for George Le Roy Lufkin (29 Jul 1899 - 3 Oct 1950), BillionGraves Record 286450 Rigby, Jefferson, Idaho, United States