Hugh Winder Nibley

27 Mar 1910 - 24 Feb 2005

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Hugh Winder Nibley

27 Mar 1910 - 24 Feb 2005
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Grave site information of Hugh Winder Nibley (27 Mar 1910 - 24 Feb 2005) at East Lawn Memorial Hills in Provo, Utah, Utah, United States from BillionGraves
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Life Information

Hugh Winder Nibley

Born:
Died:

East Lawn Memorial Hills

East Lawn Drive
Provo, Utah, Utah
United States

Epitaph

Doorkeeper in the House of the Lord
Transcriber

Jondrae

May 1, 2019
Photographer

Thorsted

July 24, 2012

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Obituary for Hugh W. Nibley

Contributor: Jondrae Created: 5 months ago Updated: 5 months ago

Hugh W. Nibley 1910 ~ 2005 Hugh Winder Nibley passed away 24 February 2005 in his Provo home of causes incident to old age. He was 94 years old. Brother Nibley was born 27 March 1910 in Portland, Oregon to Alexander and Agnes Sloan Nibley. He attended public schools in Portland, Medford, and Los Angeles, where he excelled in school and gained a life-long love of nature, art, astronomy, drama, and literature. Upon graduation from high school, 17 year old Hugh served a three year mission for the LDS Church to Germany. He later served a short-term mission to the Northern States. He earned his bachelors degree in History at UCLA in 1934, graduating summa cum laude, and his PhD at Berkeley in 1938. As a college student he belonged to the national honor society Phi Beta Kappa. Prior to the U.S. entering World War II, he taught at the consortium of colleges at Claremont, California. In 1942, he joined the Army, where he served in military intelligence. Attached to the 101st Airborne Division, he landed on Utah Beach on D-Day, fought in Holland during Operation Market-Garden, and was mapping German forces when the breakout occurred at Bastogne. Following the war, he married Phyllis Ann Draper 18 September 1946 in the Salt Lake Temple. Dr. Nibley began his teaching career that fall at Brigham Young University, where he taught history, languages, and religion. He became best known for his writings on LDS scripture which were published in Church magazines almost monthly throughout the next three decades, as well as his numerous lectures and books. His book An Approach to the Book of Mormon was used as a lesson manual for the LDS Church in 1957. He officially retired from BYU in 1975, but continued teaching until 1994. Dr. Nibley's legacy at BYU is substantial. In addition to teaching a wide variety of subjects, publishing numerous articles in both academic and LDS journals, and delivering lectures throughout the country, he helped the library acquire an extensive religious studies collection. In 1973 he was called to serve as the first director of the newly created Institute for Ancient Studies. In 2001, the Ancient Studies reading room at BYU was named in his honor. He received numerous awards, among them the David O. McKay Humanities Award in 1971, Professor of the Year in 1973, Distinguished Service Award in 1979, the Exemplary Manhood Award in 1991, and an honorary doctorate from BYU in 1983. The Collected Works of Hugh Nibley, which is being published by FARMS, has reached 15 volumes. He inspired an entire generation of Mormon scholars, and touched the lives of thousands of people throughout the world. Until his health declined, Brother Nibley served faithfully in the Provo 9th Ward as a Sunday School teacher and home teacher. He was preceded in death by brothers, Phillip Gordon, Fred Richard, and Alexander Sloan. He is survived by his brother, Reid Nibley (Nona) of Provo; sister, Barbara Nibley Richards (Lynn) of Pleasant Grove; wife, Phyllis Draper Nibley; eight children, Paul Sloan Nibley (Bronia) of Provo; Christina Nibley Mincek (Zdravko) of Ponte Vedra Beach, Florida; Thomas Hugh Nibley of Provo; Michael Draper Nibley (Sandy) of Washington, DC; Charles Alexander Nibley (Junalee) of Salt Lake City; Rebecca Nibley of Eagle Mountain; Martha Nibley Beck of Phoenix; and Zina Nibley Petersen (Boyd) of Provo; 24 grandchildren; and two great-grandchildren. Funeral services will be Wednesday, March 2, 2005 at 1 p.m. in the Provo Tabernacle, 90 South University Ave., Provo. Friends may call at the Walker Mortuary, 85 East 300 South, Provo Tuesday 6-9 p.m. or Wednesday from 11 a.m.-12 noon. Burial will be in East Lawn Memorial Hills Cemetery. Family condolences may be sent to www.walkerfamilymortuaries.com In lieu of flowers, family members have asked that donations be made in honor of Hugh Nibley to the C.W. Nibley Scholarship Fund at BYU to support students of Scottish descent.

Obituary for Hugh W. Nibley

Contributor: Jane Little Created: 1 year ago Updated: 5 months ago

Hugh W. Nibley 1910 ~ 2005 Hugh Winder Nibley passed away 24 February 2005 in his Provo home of causes incident to old age. He was 94 years old. Brother Nibley was born 27 March 1910 in Portland, Oregon to Alexander and Agnes Sloan Nibley. He attended public schools in Portland, Medford, and Los Angeles, where he excelled in school and gained a life-long love of nature, art, astronomy, drama, and literature. Upon graduation from high school, 17 year old Hugh served a three year mission for the LDS Church to Germany. He later served a short-term mission to the Northern States. He earned his bachelors degree in History at UCLA in 1934, graduating summa cum laude, and his PhD at Berkeley in 1938. As a college student he belonged to the national honor society Phi Beta Kappa. Prior to the U.S. entering World War II, he taught at the consortium of colleges at Claremont, California. In 1942, he joined the Army, where he served in military intelligence. Attached to the 101st Airborne Division, he landed on Utah Beach on D-Day, fought in Holland during Operation Market-Garden, and was mapping German forces when the breakout occurred at Bastogne. Following the war, he married Phyllis Ann Draper 18 September 1946 in the Salt Lake Temple. Dr. Nibley began his teaching career that fall at Brigham Young University, where he taught history, languages, and religion. He became best known for his writings on LDS scripture which were published in Church magazines almost monthly throughout the next three decades, as well as his numerous lectures and books. His book An Approach to the Book of Mormon was used as a lesson manual for the LDS Church in 1957. He officially retired from BYU in 1975, but continued teaching until 1994. Dr. Nibley's legacy at BYU is substantial. In addition to teaching a wide variety of subjects, publishing numerous articles in both academic and LDS journals, and delivering lectures throughout the country, he helped the library acquire an extensive religious studies collection. In 1973 he was called to serve as the first director of the newly created Institute for Ancient Studies. In 2001, the Ancient Studies reading room at BYU was named in his honor. He received numerous awards, among them the David O. McKay Humanities Award in 1971, Professor of the Year in 1973, Distinguished Service Award in 1979, the Exemplary Manhood Award in 1991, and an honorary doctorate from BYU in 1983. The Collected Works of Hugh Nibley, which is being published by FARMS, has reached 15 volumes. He inspired an entire generation of Mormon scholars, and touched the lives of thousands of people throughout the world. Until his health declined, Brother Nibley served faithfully in the Provo 9th Ward as a Sunday School teacher and home teacher. He was preceded in death by brothers, Phillip Gordon, Fred Richard, and Alexander Sloan. He is survived by his brother, Reid Nibley (Nona) of Provo; sister, Barbara Nibley Richards (Lynn) of Pleasant Grove; wife, Phyllis Draper Nibley; eight children, Paul Sloan Nibley (Bronia) of Provo; Christina Nibley Mincek (Zdravko) of Ponte Vedra Beach, Florida; Thomas Hugh Nibley of Provo; Michael Draper Nibley (Sandy) of Washington, DC; Charles Alexander Nibley (Junalee) of Salt Lake City; Rebecca Nibley of Eagle Mountain; Martha Nibley Beck of Phoenix; and Zina Nibley Petersen (Boyd) of Provo; 24 grandchildren; and two great-grandchildren. Funeral services will be Wednesday, March 2, 2005 at 1 p.m. in the Provo Tabernacle, 90 South University Ave., Provo. Friends may call at the Walker Mortuary, 85 East 300 South, Provo Tuesday 6-9 p.m. or Wednesday from 11 a.m.-12 noon. Burial will be in East Lawn Memorial Hills Cemetery. Family condolences may be sent to www.walkerfamilymortuaries.com In lieu of flowers, family members have asked that donations be made in honor of Hugh Nibley to the C.W. Nibley Scholarship Fund at BYU to support students of Scottish descent.

John Patrick Reid

Contributor: Jane Little Created: 1 year ago Updated: 5 months ago

John Patrick Reid was born in Drumbo, Down County, Ireland 26 Feb 1825. It was in Scotland that he and his wife, Margaret Kirkwood Reid joined the Mormon Church in 1847. Soon after 1857, they moved back to Belfast Ireland, where he was Branch President for sixteen years, nine of which the church meetings were held in his home. The family endured religious persecution while living in Ireland; “Many times he and his wife had stones and eggs thrown at them and she had her shawl and bonnet torn off her.” He was a gardener (reportedly for an Earl) and at age 26, he became a “French Polisher,” working with fine furniture. In 1862, (4 May 1862)* John Patrick Reid’s brother, William Taylor Reid and two of his sons, William Kirkwood Reid and John Kirkwood Reid emigrated to Utah. John Patrick Reid emigrated to Utah in 1871, (21 June 1871)* and a year later, (16 Oct 1872)* his wife Margaret Kirkwood Reid and daughter Margaret Violet Reid (Sloan), William, Alex, and Agnes emigrated to Utah. The family eventually settled in Manti, Sanpete County, Utah. While in Manti, He worked on the temple, and as recorded by Hugh W. Nibley: "John Patrick Reid, my great grandfather, whom I remember very well, was the first Branch President in Belfast Ireland and also the leader of the Masonic Order there. I’ve often been told that his work on the Manti Temple specialized in the hardware for the doors, designing both the hinges and the knobs. Sometimes the ornaments are the naturalistic curves characteristic of the nineteenth century, but as long as he was at it, it seemed Brother Reid might as well put some symbolism in the ornamentation. . . . Brother Reid, both as a top Mason and as a superstitious Irishman (he firmly believed in fairies) and as a designer of solemn and significant objects would call upon his knowledge to supply the mystic symbols. Whether he knew their significance or not, it just happens that he, or this little object, [the door knob plate] has depicted the three most important symbols in the Egyptian mysteries. . ." (The Manti Temple, edited by Victor J. Rasmussen. Provo: Community Press, 1988. 33-36,): He was well read and could talk intelligently on any subject. He was about five feet nine inches tall, weighing about 150 to 160 pounds. When he was 83, he wrote the following testimony for his posterity: “Mormonism is true. John P. Reid, 83 years and has proved it for 60 years.” (Irish Civil Registration records birth of Sarah Jane Reid states that John Reid, the Father's occupation was "French Polisher" and gives address as 15 Christopher, Belfast. (FHL British Film 0,101,170 p. 314)) The more complete history of John Patrick Reid is written in “John K. Reid Family From Castle Valley, Utah,” compiled by Mary Reid Edwards and Dortha Reid Brough, 1983. (Family History Library, Salt Lake City, Utah, Call Number 929.273 R272e.) (In History of William Charles Smith, Jr. and Clara Sloan Smith and Family by Ruth Smith Gifford, (FHL 929.271 Sm 68rg) p.451 It states ”John Reid added the “P” for “Patrick” to his name after he came to Utah as there were so many by the name of John Reid. Birth cert. Etc. in Scotland and Ireland of children used name of John Reid.” *Dates given in Record of Members of Belfast Conference, (film # 1017450).

Eschatology

Contributor: Jane Little Created: 1 year ago Updated: 5 months ago

I have experienced an interesting transformation/evolution over the years re our activity and focus with the gospel. Of course, Syl and I have always been “active”, whatever that means, going to Church, raising the kids accordingly. We have been busy in a number of callings and responsibilities, mostly just helping us plow ahead with the children and our own busy lives. All has not been status quo, however. After Sylvia jumped into genealogy, there has been definite motion in our lives and focus. We have witnessed one miracle after another as names and families and information have been forthcoming. We have enjoyed being the detectives and ferreting out the hidden knowledge re her family. I have enjoyed the efforts, since it has all been relatively new territory. On my side of the family, our ancestry has been peppered with research, study and publications. A lot of time and money have been invested into the work by scads of folks. It has been a ponderous undertaking, the work shared among so many different branches of the family. Sylvia’s family on the other hand has been a fertile field. Some roadblocks were encountered early on but with perseverance we pressed forward and have been the recipients of powerful info and insights. This grew in snowball fashion until becoming quite top-heavy. Thankfully, at just the right juncture, the temple was announced and built in Reno and we were able to begin performing the ordinances for thousands of these people. Our work in this area has been fulfilling and delightful. We were blessed with wave after wave of warmth and satisfaction, knowing that we were indeed reaching across the veil and having an impact on so many lives. When I was released from seminary and then the bishopric in 2001 I was called to teach Family History. It was a great calling and again we saw a lot of success (most notably with Lorraine Rundle). Names were found, information was processed and temple work was done. It was very gratifying. While teaching, I tended to break the work of genealogy into two different fields: one, the serious journal writing, family info gathering, careful documenting and cataloguing, picture sorting type---I saw it (kindly, I hope) as busy work and a bit superfluous; and then there was the nitty-gritty collecting of basic information necessary in order to process the people for the temple, which I found much more important. We crashed ahead with our efforts being geared to the latter and were subsequently greatly blessed in so many areas of our lives. It really has been an exhilarating undertaking. We finally reached a point where we were really reaching far out, being quite extended in our searching, maybe even poaching from too many of other possibly excited hunters and searchers. There came a cessation of the flurry of computer and family history activity as we began finishing up the work we had accrued. In 2004 I decided to transcribe the letters that Sylvia had written me while in Brazil. I thought that maybe because of Sylvia’s handwriting, that many might find bothersome to wade through (but let me add that her penmanship has always made my heart skip a beat---I love it and see it as a personal extension of who she is) maybe if I should type it out on the computer, access to her thoughts and history would be a lot easier for the kids. While proceeding with this undertaking I experienced a wonderful transformation. Once again, I was reliving the times. It was an emotional odyssey and reawakened so many dormant memories and feelings. I felt alive and happy and reinvigorated. My love and devotion for Sylvia, which I always felt had been healthy and hale, seemed to catapult forward, as I remembered again the sacrifices and love that she shared with me over the great distances and durations of time. When I was beginning to finish this project was when I was inspired (July 2004) to begin contacting her family and friends to write our family letters of remembrance about her for Sylvia’s 50th birthday. The response was astounding. Scores of people, many who hadn’t seen or heard from us in years, came creatively and charitably forward, sharing touching and tender memories and testimonials of who Sylvia is and how she has touched and strengthened their lives. Again, this was phenomenally emotional for me as I began to see her from different points of view. It was an epiphany. This was my immersion. My emphasis in family history switched from the almost mechanical gathering work (although still extremely important) to the more satisfying and personally gratifying efforts of family history. The individual fleshing out of lives and stories. The response among the family has been equally strong, as folks seem to resonate more with the tales and pictures than with the rather drab names, dates and places. We began gathering and writing our personal histories. Sylvia allowed me to pester her mercilessly for pertinent information, as I then did what I do best, peck away on the QWERTY board. Amazingly, stuff began accumulating. Stories and photos were added. I began hearing stories from Sylvia that she had told me years ago but because of my lack of interest, I never categorized or saved them. I felt foolish at not having paid more attention in the first place. There was a price, however. Syl’s patience with my prying and prodding began to show. She started dodging my queries and resisting my questions. Two reasons, I think: she doesn’t like being the focal point all the time; and she feels like her life, especially before her baptism, wasn’t happy or worth recalling. I don’t see it that way and consequently have proven to be a festering thorn in her side. Volumes of materiel have been garnered; letters and stories have piled up in binders and computer folders. It has been an adventure which I have thoroughly enjoyed. A collateral outcome to this has been my elevation in the family’s eyes as having a “good memory”, etc. Mostly, it’s because I’ve been dwelling so much in the past that the days of yesteryear seem to have resurrected. I certainly don’t apologize. I revel in the past, in the building of the foundation that has contributed to my marriage and family and who I currently am and my understanding of the gospel. Things seem so much deeper and valuable. I cherish the past and it colors my current perceptions and points me unerringly into the future. It has been an interesting ride. On the other hand, I have been accused of living too much in the past or leaning too heavily on the future and not staying enough in the present. Another side note I have experienced has been this acceleration of my curiosity and interest in gospel topics, mostly the spirit world. I have scribbled countless notes re the subject and have been reading from the Book of Mormon with strictly this approach; I have been attending the temple, the Lord’s university, and there receiving additional fodder for thought. And I have been reading more voraciously this year than ever before; stuff from Bushman, Givens, Margaret Barker and Seaich, but especially I have been rereading all of Nibley’s books. There have been innumerable revelations to me, new and ones that I had forgotten. I have been the recipient of vast quantities of knowledge, of varying degrees of spirituality and importance. And so finally, to the emphasis of this essay of mine at the present. Yesterday (1/30/08) I was reading in Nibley’s “Mormonism and Early Christianity” (FARMS volume 4 of Nibley’s collected works) in his essay “The Way of the Church” and came across a story of his I have paraphrased a number of times for a number of emphases, but this one was more extended than I’d remembered when he was referring to his own “life after life” experience at Loma Linda and his subsequent approach to the temporal and mundane. He no doubt abbreviated this. Anyway, while discussing eschatology in this extended parable, he stated the following, regarding his fictitious protagonist, perhaps Adam or Every Man, who knows? But as I read this paragraph, my eyes bugged out as I felt an acute connection. Speaking of our moribund hero “…he is visited ever more frequently by memories, memories of astonishing clarity and vividness---mostly from his childhood, and he finds himself at the same time slipping ever more easily into speculations, equally vivid, on the world to come and the future of this world. The limits of time begin to melt and fuse until everything seems present but the present. In a word, his thinking has become eschatological.” When I read this I was shocked. It was as though he had pegged me squarely between the eyes. I took the find upstairs and read it to Sylvia and asked who she thought he was describing, and she said, “You.” There it is. I stand validated and vindicated in at least some of my eccentricities.

Hugh Winder Nibley memories of his Grandfather Charles Wilson Nibley

Contributor: Jane Little Created: 1 year ago Updated: 5 months ago

Hugh Winder Nibley grandson of C.W. Nibley and Rebecca Neibaur My earliest remembrance of Grandpa and Grandma Nibley was when they came out to Portland and stayed at the Portland Hotel and we’d go see them. Going up in the elevator was a great thrill. Grandma was always fanning herself. She was quite Jewish, right down to the ground. She was very short and stout and looked just like Alexander Neibaur. She had that fierce look about her, but she was dynamic. She was dynamite. And she was fun, more fun than a picnic. She and Ellen and Julia hit it off beautifully. We often had them together and had very nice times. The children were always saying, “Aunt Becky, Aunt Julia, Aunt Ellen.” They made no distinction and got along great. She always had money and would give us something. That was appreciated. Having suffered deprivation, and also being Jewish, she loved jewelry, and looked like a walking Christmas tree when she came down the street. She was loaded with the stuff. And it was great stuff; but she’d been deprived of that and it is a Jewish tradition for all the gold and jewelry. When I’d go to Grandma’s house, she would cook things, and once it was during the summer. It was very, very hot, and she was always hot anyway. So the only way they could cool themselves was to put a block of ice under the bed. I remember how she suffered from the heat. I remember going with Grandma and Grandpa in his big green Packard up to Rexburg to Uncle Charlie’s ranch to watch the horns being sawed off an old bull. When I lived in Portland we took a trip to Salt Lake. The first thing Grandma said was, “I’m going to take the boys [Sloan and Hugh] down and get you some seal rings.” She, loving jewelry, took us down to get some seal rings. Of course, we both lost them, but I had mine for some years. I got to know Grandpa very well because he loved my interest in things. I was a nut for astronomy and Grandma Nibley tried to get me away from it. She said, “That’s not practical! Now look, what if the astronomers discovered all these stars? How much have they discovered? Only the names of the stars. They finally discovered them, but that’s all they discovered. They only know the names.” That’s the kind of education she had. Grandpa and I corresponded. I got letters from him and I wrote to him because he was a nut for Shakespeare, and so was I. He was great friends with the First Presidency and they were Scotch Shakespeare buffs. They would always try to top each other with quotes and correcting each other on quoting the most, and so forth. I used to play that game with Grandpa, too. That was fun. The day Brigham Young first met Charles Nibley he wrote a letter to someone saying, “I just met a young man called Charles Nibley. He is one of the most brilliant men I ever met.” When I was going on my mission I stayed in his house. He would come down about 1:00 or 2:00 in the morning and talk for hours about various things. We had some wonderful conversations. At that time the Klu Klux Klan were burning crosses at Ensign Peak. There were some interesting things going on all the time, and he was very frank telling some of the stories. He said he’d walked into President Grant’s office and said, “Here, Heber. I’d like you to have this for the Church. It’s $3500 in cash. Please don’t tell my family about this.” Stephen L. Richards said that Charles W. Nibley paid the largest tithing that had ever been paid in the history of the Church. He was always honest in his paying of tithes. I remember once my Dad took him to the corner of Vermont and Wilshire in Los Angeles. Dad told him he could get that corner lot for something like $25,000, and Grandpa said, “That’s too high. I wouldn’t do it.” Next time Grandpa came down, in less than a month, Dad drove him to the very same spot. “See there, last week that lot was sold for $50,000.” Grandpa brooded about it all day long that he had missed all that money. He said when he made his first $5,000 he couldn’t believe it. It seemed all wrong to him. All he had to do was sign a piece of paper and here was $5,000. “Is that the way people get rich?” he said. They’d had to work so hard in the mines of Scotland. They knew what labor was. He felt so guilty about it. Whenever he came down to California to visit he’d say, “Do you need any money? Just like that. That’s why we liked Grandpa. He liked to spread it around and make everybody happy. Grandpa wanted to be an actor so he was up on the movie stars. He loved Mary Pickford. Grandma Rebecca loved the theater, too. She was wild about it, even more than Grandpa. Grandpa would subsidize the 24th of July celebrations at Ocean Park or Venice in California. All the members of the Church would come down for free and go on all the concessions because Grandpa had just bought it out. That’s what his money was for, just to give pleasure. He lost it all in the depression, but he paid all his debts. Before he died he made sure all his creditors were taken care of. He had co-signed for so many people, then had to pay off their debts. I used to caddy for Grandpa. He was a great golfer. I was a lousy caddy, but my brother, Sloan, was pretty good. He would caddy for Senator Smoot most of the time. He loved children. He was good to people.

Margaret Violet Reid Sloan

Contributor: Jane Little Created: 1 year ago Updated: 5 months ago

MARGARET VIOLET REID SLOAN [These stories and excerpts from the lives of Hugh and Margaret Sloan were taken from the book HISTORY OF WILLIAM CHARLES SMITH, JR. AND CLARA SLOAN SMITH AND FAMILY, written by Ruth Smith Gifford.] Margaret (Maggie) Violet Reid was the fifth child of John Patrick and Margaret Kirkwood Reid. She was born April 16, 1857 in Edinburgh, Scotland. She used the birth date of April 27 all her life and on all Church records. However, her birth certificate indicated she was born April 16. John and Margaret Reid heard the Gospel, as taught by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, in Scotland. Margaret Violet was always taught the principles of the Gospel in her home and was baptized in Belfast, Ireland by her Uncle Edward Reid on June 4, 1865. She was later rebaptized in 1873 in Manti, Utah. Margaret’s brothers, William Kirkwood Reid and John Kirkwood Reid, came to America in 1862 with their Uncle William Taylor Reid and settled in Payson, Utah. They later moved to Manti. Maggie’s father came to Utah in 1871, the year prior to the rest of the family’s coming. Maggie came to America with the rest of her family in 1872. During the voyage there was a terrible storm and they had a very rough crossing. Everyone on the boat was sick but the Captain and Maggie’s mother. She helped the Captain take care of all the sick on the boat. It took them three weeks to make the crossing. They stopped in New York for several days to see Margaret’s brother, William Kirkwood. Maggie never knew just where he came from but said it took sever-al days for her uncle to get to New York. They traveled by train to Salt Lake City where they were met by John P. Reid and William Taylor Reid, who then took them to Manti. John P. had built a house out of stone which he had quarried from the hill on which the Manti Temple stands. Maggie never had any desire to go back to Ireland. She said all she could remember was fighting in the streets and always remembered seeing blood running in the gutters and people fighting with clubs and stones. As a girl, Maggie was very popular. She was a very good singer. In fact, all the members of her family were good singers. She worked out with families doing washing and ironing for 25 cents a day, this to help buy her clothes. In those days there were no wash boards and everyone had to wash by hand. How happy she was when she could have a washboard to do a washing on. She went to Salt Lake City to work where she got three dollars a week at one home. While in Salt Lake City she went with her brother William K., to a farewell party for a young friend of his who was going to China. This friend was Hugh Russel Sloan, who was a fine looking man. The feeling seemed to be mutual because he never went to China. He sold his ticket after he got to San Francisco and came back to Salt Lake City. He said all he could see was this beautiful girl, and he came back to Manti to tell her folks, and to prepare to be married. Her parents objected to her marriage as Hugh was not a member of the LDS Church. He felt the Church was true but did not feel that he was ready to be baptized at that time. However, they did tell Maggie if she was going to marry him she was to be married at home. Maggie gathered wool from the bushes in the foothills and then would take it to the Hot Springs to wash it. Then she would card and spin the wool and knit socks. She sold the socks to the miners at Eureka for 25 cents a pair. With this money she bought her trousseau. She and a friend made a trip to Salt Lake City with their neighbor, Brother David Shann, in order to buy her wedding dress and other things she needed. On this trip they stopped at Nephi all night and after they left the next morning it started to snow. By the time they got to the Point of the Mountain, she and the other girl had to walk and help push the wagon through the snow. This other girl was likely her dear friend, Marion Tennant. Hugh Russel Sloan (22 years) and Margaret Violet Reid (22 years) were married September 27, 1878 by Brother James Brown at the home of her parents, after which a reception was given in their honor. After the wedding they traveled to Salt Lake City with her brother William K. She slept in the wagon and the two men took turns sleeping and driving the team, and keeping watch as the Indians were very troublesome at that time. Then they went to Park City to live where Hugh’s two sisters lived. Their first child and son was born there, John Samuel, July 6, 1879. The second child and son, William Reid, was born March 30, 1881, after they moved back to Manti where they bought a two-room adobe house. The family moved to Emery County for a time and then back to Manti where Hugh Russel, Jr. was born on March 25, 1883. After Hugh built a new home in Manti, Agnes was born October 17, 1885. Another daughter, Maggie, was born September 22, 1887, but passed away when she was not quite one year old, after an illness of two days. Clara was born on October 14, 1889, and Ruth was born September 15, 1892. Then another boy was born, George Peacock, on July 19, 1894, the eighth child of Hugh and Maggie Sloan. On March 24, 1896, Edward Louden was born in Manti. He died just the day before the family was to leave for Canada. Hugh had gone there previously, so Maggie and her children stayed with her parents before traveling to Canada. When they arrived in their new country, some of the women had prepared a fine dinner for them. Hugh had taken the box their organ had been packed in and put legs on it so they could use it for a table. The sides were so deep it was hard to get their knees under it. But the ladies had un-packed Maggie’s fine linen and good silver and had a lovely table set with pretty flowers they had raised in their gardens. Hugh had rented a two-room house. This house had a dirt floor and one of the first things Hugh did was get some shingles and put a good roof on it. It rained most of August and all through September and many a night they went to bed with milk pans on the bed to catch the drips. Hugh would lie in bed reading while holding an umbrella over their heads to keep the rain off. That summer, about the time they arrived in Cardston, there was a big timber fire in Waterton Lakes and big pieces of ash would fall all over the town of Cardston. They never saw the sun for six weeks. Then the rains came and cleared the smoke away. That fall, when the potatoes were dug and the grain harvested, the potatoes were so watery that you could squeeze water out of them, and the grain was frozen. They took the grain to the old Burr Mill down on Lee’s Creek and had it ground into flour. From this flour the bread they made had to be baked for hours. One time John took a piece of bread tight in his hand and then threw it against the wall and it stuck there because there was so much moisture in the flour. The Sloans had brought lots of good bottled peaches and pears with them from Utah. Many of the sisters hadn’t had good bottled peaches for many years, but it wasn’t long before every woman in Cardston had a bottle of fruit from Sister Sloan. Soon her fruit supply was all gone. After that, they gathered wild fruit to bottle. Ruth and Clara used to take little buckets and gather rose berries from which Maggie made jelly. One time their father brought a treat from Lethbridge - three little green peaches, costing him one dollar. When their new baby was due, Maggie went into Cardston to live with Brother and Sister Evans so she would have care. She took Clara and Ruth with her and they took their own bedding and food to help pay expenses. This was in January of 1899 and the weather was extremely cold. Their house was very cold and drafty and the walls of the room were covered with frost so thick it could be dug off. Maggie had a very hard time and suffered a great deal from the cold. She had Ruth and Clara sleep at her feet to keep her warm. Rayman Reid was born January 28, 1899. Both Maggie and the baby were sick for a long time. However, a Chinook came and Hugh was able to take them home. After they got home, Maggie was still sick and needed help, both for herself and for the baby. Will was sent across the river to bring sister Emily Olsen, who came with her baby and stayed several days. Maggie’s new baby was blessed, as they didn’t think he would live, so they gave him the name of Rayman Reid. He died February 26, 1899. Maggie was sick for a long time and never seemed to gain her strength until spring came. Through this experience a friendship was started with Sister Olsen that lasted through the years. Going back to the spring of 1897, the Sloans moved to a house further down into Cardston and here they planted a garden and had a good crop. As new immigrants arrived, Maggie would send her children with vegetables for the new families. As a young girl, Maggie had a desire to be a doctor and while in Salt Lake City she worked and lived in a doctor’s home and helped him in his practice. She studied a great deal, but could not be a doctor because as a child she had the index finger on her right hand cut off in a flax machine. That prohibited her from doing medical work. She lived for two or three years with the doctor’s family and had access to his medical books and she studied from them. In the days when there were no doctors in the Cardston area she used her skills at doctoring and also used herbs as cures. She would take her daughters out in the fields and gather different herbs, dry them, and have them for her use. During the years the family lived on the ranch, there were lots of young fellows who came that were sick, and Maggie took care of them. One time, Victor Frank and John were in the mountains getting logs out to build Victor a house, and a new house for the Sloans. Victor’s axe slipped, cutting his foot between his toes. John tied his shirt around Victor’s leg to help stop the bleeding but he lost a lot of blood anyway. When they got home, Maggie took care of him and doctored his foot. They tried many things to stop the bleeding, but finally she thought of putting some cayenne pepper right on the foot. This seemed to coagulate the blood. Victor was on crutches for some time, but he never had any bad effects or infection. Many of the sick boys who came to Maggie had rheumatism and were on crutches afterwards. This was inconvenient for Maggie to care for them since she only had two rooms. There was a bed in the kitchen and straw ticks to put on the floor at night to make extra beds. After Doctor Brant came to Cardston, Maggie used to go with him to the homes and help as his nurse. There were many homes she went to with him when babies were to be born. On one occasion she went to care for Roy Folsom’s wife. She had had many problems when having her babies previously and the doctor was afraid that she would have trouble again, so Maggie was called to help. Sister Folsom had twin boys and then developed kidney poisoning and died. Also, one of the twins died. Maggie took the other boy, Roy, Jr., home to raise. The doctor said he didn’t think the child could possibly live but Maggie told Roy, Sr. that she would take the baby and do what she could. They had the baby in their home for six or eight months, and then the baby’s Grandmother came from Salt Lake City to take the baby home with her. That was a very sad time for the Sloan family, to give up that baby boy. Maggie was always doing things for people and in so doing traveled many miles to treat and care for the sick. In November 1900, Maggie took Clara and Ruth to Manti for the winter. While there she visited her family and visited with her brothers in Orangeville, Emery County. Also that winter, Maggie and her mother did a lot of work in the Temple for their relatives. It was during this visit that she heard of her son Will’s call to the mission field and this made her very happy. Maggie had had blessings and administrations before and after Will was born in which promises were made of the things that he would do. One of the things she had been promised was that he would go to the nations of the earth and preach the Gospel. They went to April Conference in Salt Lake City and met Will there before his departure to the mission field, and then returned to Canada. Hugh built a new house on the banks of the St. Mary’s River. The house was of logs and lath and plaster on the inside and weather board on the outside. There were two big bedrooms up-stairs, a big hall which was used for a bedroom, and a big living room and bedroom with closets downstairs. He moved part of the old house and added that on for the kitchen so that gave them lots of room. At one time, when plans were to put in an irrigation canal, President Joseph F. Smith and President Charles Ora Card, with other men, came along the river looking for a site where they thought it would be good to take the canal out of the St. Mary’s River. President Smith went to see the river, and as he left the Sloan house he said, “Brother Sloan, I’m afraid you have made a mistake building your house so near the river,” and Hugh said, “Oh, I don’t think so, President Smith, come and see.” They walked over to the bank where it was solid rock. President Smith put his hand on Hugh’s shoulder and said, “Brother Sloan, you have been a wise man. You have built your house on a firm foundation. May your life always be on the foundation of truth and right.” This was the beginning of a friendship between President Smith and Hugh and Maggie Sloan. After that they met several times in Portland at their daughter Agnes’ home. In August of 1901, John (son) married Grace Kearl and they lived for a time in one room of the Sloan home. When their first child, Kenneth, was about six months old he became very sick. This was at a time when John was away for a few days in Lethbridge on business. They didn’t know whether Kenneth was going to live or not and it was only through Maggie’s treatment and the priesthood and their faith and prayers that Kenneth’s life was preserved at that time. In December 1901, Maggie was expecting another baby, so her sister Lucy, and Lucy’s husband, and their foster daughter came from Manti to be with her. That Christmas they had a great time. Another sister Sarah, and her husband and family, and all the Sloans were together. On February 7, 1902, Edgar Lloyd was born. Maggie had a very hard delivery, even though at-tended by a doctor. Lloyd was a beautiful baby and brought lots of love and happiness into the home. Maggie had lost four babies and the family was anxious to have a little baby in the home again. As a child Lloyd had beautiful golden curls and big blue eyes. One of Maggie’s prized possessions was a lock of Lloyd’s golden hair. She kept it the remainder of her life. Maggie read something from the Bible, Book of Mormon, or Doctrine and Covenants every day, as well as attending to her Church duties, caring for her family, helping care for the sick, and other activities. Maggie knit the men’s stockings, sewed their shirts, and made the girls’ clothes. She would set out as many as nineteen pans of milk night and morning and skim that many from the day before, churn butter and make as much as three or four hundred pounds of cheese every summer, using a press which Hugh made for her. Maggie made all her own soap. The washing was all done on a wash board. It wasn’t until about 1902-03 that she got a washer which was turned by hand. Wheat was cleaned and then ground in an old coffee mill for cereal. The beef was corned. The pork was salted in brine, then hung in a smokehouse where a certain type of wood was burned slowly, smoking the meat. It would then be wrapped and stored in the grain bins. There were always crowds of men to cook for, such as the threshers each fall, etc. The old thresher was horse-powered. The grain would be stacked and the men would come with their teams to help harvest it. There were six or eight men there for weeks and Maggie would have to cook for them. In the evening they would all sit around the front room, sing songs and tell stories. One old man used to sing a song that everyone loved to hear. It had thirty-seven verses. When Will (her son) was Bishop of the Kimball Ward, Maggie was in the Relief Society presidency. She came home one day and said, “Willy, you just should have been at Relief Society today and heard the talks about how the young people dress today.” He asked her who had talked and she said, “Why, I did.” From then on this was a great joke in the family. If anyone in the family had talked or participated, then they knew why it was such a good meeting. There was many a laugh from this story. In the later years of the 1890s and early 1900s a lot of the women of the Alberta Stake lived on ranches. Those who had a home with a shingled roof and plastered walls were considered very fortunate. Those with a good buggy were riding in the height of style, as more often they rode in a lumber wagon. And if there was a spring seat, they did ride in comfort. When Maggie was the president of the Relief Society of the Kimball Ward she would drive her horse and cart the seven or eight miles to Kimball for Church and her meetings. Maggie and Estella Ward lived neighbors, about seven miles southwest of the ward. At one time they both were workers in the Relief society - Maggie in the presidency and Estella as the chorister. Some-times they went to their meetings in a lumber wagon, sometimes with a team and buggy, and then again in a two-wheeled cart. They were always determined to go to their meetings. The Sloans had two horses that they used at different times on the two-wheeled cart. One was called Bay Maud, a beautiful singlefooter, and her mother, Old Grey Maud, who could singlefoot if she felt like it, or depending on who drove her. One beautiful Thursday morning these good sisters had to be at Relief Society early because it was work meeting and they thought of the good time they would have visiting with the other sisters. Work meetings were always “red letter days” and perhaps some new family had moved into the district within ten or fifteen miles. This particular morning the only means of transportation was Old Grey Maud and the cart. They started off, feeling very light-hearted and happy. Maggie had the lines and Estella had the whip. Everything went fine for about four miles, then Old Grey Maud began to lag. Estella used the whip but did not want to hurt the poor mare so she tapped her on the tail, not realizing that Old Grey Maud had a habit of backing up when hit on the tail. When the hit came, Old Grey Maud backed nearer the lake, and Maggie, to help out, pulled the lines a little tighter, and back they would go until they were out in the water. That would never do, so the taps got harder and out they went a little further until they were sitting with the water halfway to their knees and Old Grey Maud would not move an inch further. She’d just switch her tail and splash them with the slimy water. The sun got higher and higher; the day got hotter and hotter; the mosquitos got thicker and thick-er. And there they sat with Old Grey Maud contentedly switching her tail to keep the flies and mosquitos off her back. There was not much chance of a cow puncher or a passerby coming along as only the Sloans and the Wards used that prairie road. As for any of the family coming to look for them, they would hardly get worried until the next day because Maggie often went to take care of someone who was sick or having a baby, and then usually the next day she would send word where she was. The two women prayed for someone to come that way and help them out. Hours went by and no one came. Then, just as the sun was setting like a beautiful ball of fire, a horseman came into view. He was off some distance and did not see them, but by standing up in the seat, shouting, and waving their sunbonnets, he finally saw them. At last he came, and it was Maggie’s son Will, who was the bishop. He was convulsed with laughter at the funny sight, but it wasn’t long until they were out of the lake and on their way home. Needless to say, Old Grey Maud never took them to Relief society again. The family always saw that they got there all right. After moving to Cardston, Maggie worked on the Relief Society Board when Sister Mary Woolf, and then Sister Lydia J. Brown (mother of Hugh B. Brown) were the stake Relief Society Presidents. At one time she and Sister Brown went up north to High River, Claresholm, and Stavely where there were small branches of the Church. President Wood would go and hold conferences with the people and this one time he took Maggie and Sister Brown with him and left them there for a week or ten days so they could visit every home in the district. Maggie and Sister Brown had some very outstanding experiences during that time. They found out problems that President Wood had not been able to find out and Maggie made some very dear friends on that trip. Another Relief Society story was that one time Maggie and Sister Brown went to Aetna to Relief Society. They were in a little one-horse buggy of Sister Brown’s. It got very cold, so after their Relief Society meeting was out they went to Sister Brown’s daughter’s home, Sister Edna Tanner (mother of Nathan Eldon Tanner), and had lunch. Her husband got some rocks and heated them to put in the bottom of the buggy to keep their feet and legs warm. A storm seemed to be coming up and the wind was very cold from the north as they started for Cardston. All at once they felt they were getting hot. They could smell something burning, so they stopped and opened up the quilts. The quilts were on fire, and as they pulled the quilts and rocks out of the buggy, they blazed up in the air and started a prairie fire. Lucky for them some men came along and helped put the fire out and because the field was plowed, the fire only went about a half a mile. They were very frightened women. Maggie was always active in the Church. In her younger days she was a Sunday School teacher and also worked in the Mutual. She worked in Relief Society for many years and was personally acquainted with some of the General Presidents of Relief Society, such as Eliza R. Snow, Zina D. Young, Emmaline B. Wells, and Lula Green Richards. Some of her personal friends were also President Joseph F. Smith, President Heber J. Grant, President Charles W. Nibley, and many of the Apostles. Maggie always wanted her family to live and obey the commandments of the Lord. It is said that she prayed that her family would always be poor, because they would be humble, and then they would have wealth - they would have the Gospel. And Maggie’s desire was that her boys should go on missions and serve in the Church. After Maggie’s mother, Margaret Kirkwood Reid, died on June 9, 1904, her father John Patrick Reid, went to Canada to live with the Sloans. While there he raised beautiful gardens. He also helped with the children and gave them their daily lessons when they couldn’t attend school. Maggie’s health began to fail, and after Agnes was married in 1907 and moved to Portland, Oregon, Maggie went to Portland to be with her. She felt so well while in Portland that after she came home, and through the encouragement of Agnes and Alex, Hugh and Maggie moved to Portland for a few years. In 1909 they bought a nice home. Maggie would sometimes have the elders board with them, but most of the time they had the lady missionaries. She was always busy and helping out in the Church, no matter where she was. She was a counselor to Sister Ballard (wife of Melvin J. Ballard) in the Relief Society. In this calling she traveled to many places in and around Portland with Brother and Sister Ballard. Maggie had also known Brother Ballard’s mother in Logan, so there was a very close friendship with the Ballards. In 1913, Clara Sloan Smith (daughter) went to Portland with her father to spend the winter. She had three children with her - Hugh, Sloan, and Ellen. When they arrived, Maggie was not well. She had been having hemorrhages of the nose. The doctor had been there several times and he would get the bleeding stopped, and then in a while it would start again. She lost a lot of blood and was very weak. Maggie said to her father, who was there at the time, “Father, get me the cayenne pepper.” She put some on a piece of cotton and plugged her nose with it. They had al- ready called the doctor to come again and he arrived with a specialist. The bleeding had stopped, but she was still in bed. The doctor said, “Mother Sloan, what in the world did you do? I would like to know as we can’t figure it out how a hemorrhage like you have had would stop.” She whispered her secret to him and he laughed and said, “I’ll keep your secret.” The book on herbs had taught her that cayenne pepper would stop bleeding and coagulate the blood. Maggie often used it for things like that. The doctors told her it had saved her life as she would have had a stroke with the type of hemorrhage she had. Hugh worked for the Portland Cement Company and did a great deal of traveling, and he and Maggie would go back to Canada during the summer months and then return to Portland for the winter months. In about 1914, Hugh and Maggie went to Salt Lake City to live and her father, John Reid went with them. He went on to Manti and stayed with his daughters, Lucy and Agnes, until he passed away October 7, 1916. With their move to Salt Lake City for a couple of years, Maggie was able to visit her family in Manti occasionally. Then about 1916 they moved back to live on the ranch in Canada again. It was there that the tragedy of the family happened in September 1916. Lloyd (Maggie’s youngest son) and Kenneth (oldest son of her oldest son John) had helped on the ranch all summer and were elated that they were starting high school that fall. Before school started they went out to shoot prairie chickens. Lloyd, thinking it was a prairie chicken flying up, shot Kenneth, who died instantly. This was an awful accident and tragedy for the whole family, and after this Hugh and Maggie didn’t go back to Portland but stayed at the ranch with her father. They didn’t feel it was right to leave him alone at this time. In the year 1918 there was a bad flu epidemic and many people died from it. Many people from Kimball, Aetna, and Taylorsville came to get Maggie to help with those who had the flu and she was sometimes gone for weeks at a time. One time, after she had just returned from being away ten days and had not even taken her clothes off in that time, she had just gone to bed when a knock came at the door. A man wanted to know if Mrs. Sloan was there. Hugh told him she had just returned home and he was afraid she was coming down with the flu herself, as she was very tired. The man said he just had to have someone. His wife and children were down with the flu, and three or four of his hired men, and he was nearly down himself. Hugh said he didn’t think she should go, but Maggie heard the man and said, “Yes, I’ll go, but I should have some help if all those men are down.” He told her he had been promised help from Cardston. So in the middle of the night she got up and put her clothes back on and went to care for the Henry Cook family. They lived on the opposite side of the river, about two or three miles away. When her help came, it was a young boy twenty years old, Eldon Tanner, who later became a general authority and counselor in the First Presidency of the Church. She and Eldon took care of this family who were very sick - Mrs. Cook, two or three children, and three or four hired men. Eldon had already taken care of his own folks when they had the flu. Eldon and Maggie kept going from one bed to another caring for the sick. The bunkhouse was quite a distance from the house so Eldon would try to do everything Maggie told him to do for the men there. Hugh went back to work for the Cement Company while Maggie stayed in Cardston the winter of 1919 so that Lloyd could go to school. Then he came back home because of illness and wasn’t well again after that. They lived in Cardston for a while and went back and forth to the ranch. Soon after, Hugh became very sick. They returned to Portland in August, hoping a change in climate would do him good, but on October 28, 1920 he passed away. It was his request to be taken back to Cardston to be buried, to the country he loved so much. After the passing of her husband, Maggie lived in Portland with her daughters, Agnes and Ruth. Maggie was there at the time Ruth’s son Robert, was born, and about six weeks after, Ruth passed away. She had an operation but never rallied from it. Maggie stayed with her son-in-law Dick West, and the children. Her granddaughter Ellen, went to Portland and lived with her for a year and helped care for the children and to attend school. Dick contemplated marriage again, as he could see it was too much for Maggie to care for his three small children at her age. Maggie then went to California and lived with Agnes. She took the baby Robert with her until Dick was married. Ruth’s death was very hard on her, but her implicit faith in the Gospel carried her through. Maggie said at one time that when her children died and all about was mourning, she took consolation in the thought that she had those children for the eternities. She always felt more sorry for her sister Lucy than she did for herself, even though she had lost several children, because Lucy never had any family of her own. When Maggie’s son Lloyd, died in 1938, she was in California. He had been working on the Parker Dam when he contracted desert pneumonia and died. She was able to be with him for a couple of days before he passed away, and then went with the body back to Manti for burial. Maggie was very proud of her children and grandchildren. She would be so proud if she went to Church and the boys would be passing the sacrament, or performing in any way. When Maggie went back to Canada each summer she would say, “Well, I’ve come home to die this time.” So every time she made the trip the family would say, “Well, Mother, have you come back to die this time?” Then everyone would laugh and she would say, “Yes.” She wanted to be buried near her Hugh and did not want to have her body shipped home as had been the case with her husband. In the summer of 1944, her granddaughter, Ellen Smith Bunting, traveled with her to Canada as she wasn’t able to travel alone. All could see that she had really come back this time to die. She stayed for a time with her sons John and Russel, with a close friend, Emily Olsen, and then to Clara and Will Smith’s to stay. She had a good visit with all of them, and many friends. She went to the Temple a time or two. She always had a crochet hook in her hand and this was no exception, even at this time. She wanted to leave every grandchild a piece of her handiwork and had finished many, many pieces. She was working on a set of chair covers. Clara would say, “Mother, just put that down, you are so tired, don’t do it anymore.” Then Maggie would say, “Well, if I don’t get this done you won’t have a birthday present.” Clara’s birthday was October 14th and just the day before the 14th, she finished the chair set. Maggie was quite ill at times and had some very bad spells as she had enlargement of the liver. At first these spells came about a week apart, then closer and closer until they were coming about every three days. She seemed to be in a coma at times. Agnes and Will came to see her and she was happy to have them there. The doctor came to the house to see her as she was suffering a great deal, but there was nothing much he could do, only try to ease her pain. She was afraid to take drugs for fear she would become a drug addict. Everyone tried to tell her she wasn’t going to live long enough to be a drug addict, but she didn’t like to take the medication anyway. She didn’t want to go to the hospital either, so she was cared for at home. The family did all they could for her and had a nurse come to give her hypos when she was in a lot of pain. The Sunday before she became very ill, Bishop Glen Fisher and his wife came to see her. As she lay on the couch and talked to them she said, “You know, my husband doesn’t want me very bad. He told me before he left he was going to build me a nice home over there. Then he would come and get me. But I guess he has been a long time getting that house built because it has been twenty-five years and he has never come yet. I’m just getting real disgusted with him.” During the last six weeks of her life the veil seemed to be so thin for her. She talked about it just as if she was going into another room. She would spend hours talking about different members of the family and her old friends that were on the other side. She asked one day about the undertakers in Cardston and was told that the Hall boys had a funeral home. She said, “Well, what Halls are they?” It was explained they were Doug Hall’s boys and she said, “Oh, those are Katie’s boys.” She lay there a few minutes thinking, then started to smile and said, “Won’t Katie be happy when I see her over there and I tell her that her grandsons took care of me.” On Sunday morning, October 22, 1944, the family had prayer around her bed. She had asked several times when she was administered to, to tell the Lord she was ready to go, but this request had never been asked in her blessings. On this morning, however, her son Will, gave her a blessing and in his prayer he dedicated her to the Lord and said that the family was willing to release her. Some of the family left and went to Sunday School, so all was quiet at home. Margaret Violet Reid Sloan passed away at quarter to one in the afternoon. She was 87 years of age. Maggie had always prayed that she would never be a burden to her family. It was for only five days she had to have continuous care and she was no burden. STORIES AND REMEMBRANCES Clarice Sloan (wife of Donald Sloan, grandson) It was a joy to have Grandmother Sloan come to Portland. I was a bride when I first met her when I was helping Pearl, my mother-in-law, at the Mission Home. I remember her as a very striking-looking woman, her silver hair neatly combed with a bun pinned high on the back of her head. She had sharp classic features and beautiful teeth. These lovely features remained with her until her death in the twilight years. She was slender and quick and wiry of movement. Her hands were never still a moment. Her crochet hook went so fast, it was fascinating just to sit and watch her. She made dozens of afghans and pillows for her family and always was working on baby clothes for her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. The missionaries adored her and her sense of humor was priceless. I remember the one Sunday night at the Mission Home, she had been to Church twice that day and had been called on to pray both times, as well as at breakfast that morning. As we were in the kitchen, ready to go into the dining room for family prayers and supper, she laughingly said, “I hope I’m not called on to lead in prayer here…..I’m prayed out today.” We gathered all in a circle on our knees and Father Sloan (Will) said, “Mother, will you lead us in prayer?” I need not say she chuckled, but then gently said one of the most beautiful prayers I have ever heard. She loved and adored as a friend, little Sister Westergard. They were just like two young girls together. They loved to go to town to a movie and I remember one day taking them when they were both in their 70s, to the Paramount Theater, telling them I would pick them up after the show. I waited for hours, almost frantic, and was ready to have the police look for them, after calling their homes to see if they had arrived, when they came out of the theater, swinging their hands together, giggling like school girls out on a holiday. Their explanation to me: “It was such a good love story, we had to stay and see it twice.” Clell Sloan (grandson) When I was a young boy I left home at the age of 15. I traveled through British Columbia and across the Line at Kingsgate. I met up with a fellow by the name of Johnson from Calgary. We were trying to evade the Immigration Officers and Patrolmen. We usually traveled at night and slept in the day time. One morning we came to an old dilapidated barn and ranch buildings. There was a river flowing nearby so we decided to build a raft and try sailing down the river. We made this makeshift raft and started out. The lumber must have been rotten because we hit a whirlpool later on down the river and the raft was split in half, he on one side and I on the other. His part went over on a smooth part of the river and mine went in a whirlpool. As soon as my part of the raft hit the whirlpool I was sucked under. I don’t remember anything after I was sucked under until I woke up on a sand bar about a quarter of a mile down river from where I had gone under. My friend, however, had reached the other side of the river safely and was standing over on the bank waving his hand, trying to see if I was drowned or not. My clothes were wet and it seemed like I had been under water a long time, although I had not swallowed any water. Down at the other end of the sand bar was shallow water and I waded out in water about to my waist. Being a young boy, I never thought any more about it. Now, before I go on with my story any further I want to tell about my cousin Philip, who died about a month before this happened. He was the son of my Aunt Agnes in California. About a year and a half after this incident I was living with my aunt in California. My grandmother was there also. One night we were talking and she said, “Clell, one time I had a dream, about a year and a half ago as I remember, and I dreamt that you and another boy were sailing down a river on a raft and the raft was split in two and your half was sucked under the water. It seemed so real that it is just like sitting here talking to you. You were drowning and I saw Philip come down out of the Heavens as an angel, take you by the hand and lift you over on a sand bar in the middle of the river, and ascend back up into the Heavens again.” I think the Lord at that time was watching over me and that Philip actually came down as an angel and saved me. Ruth Smith Gifford (granddaughter) Grandmother taught her granddaughters how to crochet and knit. She would never let you sit and not have your hands busy. Her famous words were, “Idle hands are the devil’s workshop.” In Canada, Saturday night was hockey night and there was always a broadcast on the radio of the hockey game played by the Toronto Maple Leafs. In the fall or the spring, when the games were still on and Grandmother Sloan was still with us, she would sit right next to the radio and listen to the hockey game, always a crochet hook in hand. As the game got more and more exciting the faster would go her crochet hook. She loved to have her hair brushed. She would take her long white tresses down from the bun and these were brushed faithfully every day. She always said you would have beautiful hair if you brushed it 100 strokes every day. I recall many the night she would ask me to brush her hair and each stroke was counted until the 100 strokes were finished. We always had such a wonderful time when Grandmother came to our houses to stay during her visits in the summer. My brothers made a swing for me. It was made of haying ropes suspended from a huge log that rested on the branches of the two big trees in our front yard. Every day, usually in the evening when it was twilight, Grandmother would have a swing, and many times she would ask me to push her. On her trips between Canada and California, Grandmother was accompanied by a small foot locker trunk. In this she kept little mementos - a lock of Lloyd’s golden curly hair when just a baby, or booties from one of the children, etc. What excitement when one could peek in as the lid was raised. In this she kept her priceless gifts of crocheted items designated for each grand-child when they were married. Grandma’s trunk will never be forgotten. A. Keith Smith (grandson) When Grandmother Sloan returned to Canada in 1944 she said, as she had said for many years, that she had come home to die. This time she brought with her all of her earthly possessions which were in two trunks. These had been in California at Aunt Agnes’, and in Portland at Uncle Will’s, and when she arrived for the last time she had somehow gathered all her possessions together and put them into these trunks. During the months before her death, when any of the family would come, they were always taken aside and she would kneel before her open trunk and go through the items, looking for the one special article she wanted to give to that child or grand-child, each item labeled in her mind for that person. Some of the treasures the trunks contained were crocheting, embroidery and hand work. Many of these pieces were not finished and how sad she would be when she would want to give them away and see they needed to be washed and blocked, or even finished. She would get at it as if she only had a few minutes to live. She would not give anything away until she had made it as perfect in every respect as possible. I also remember the fun it was to go through the old trunks and see the old clothes and other things they contained. Donald C. Sloan (grandson) When I was a little boy I made a squawk box out of tin cans and string. I was extremely proud of my invention, but Grandmother Sloan was becoming a bit annoyed at hearing the whine from it. She suggested that Grandfather Sloan could improve on it immensely so I requested his help. Grandpa promptly oiled the string - the end of one noisy invention. My question: “Was Grandmother born with a crochet hook in her hand?” Bill Sloan (grandson) I remember when Grandmother was 80 she could stand and put her hands flat on the floor with her knees stiff. She did it ten times every morning. Ellen Smith Bunting (granddaughter) Our family was cursed, or maybe it was blessed - I could never decide which - with what we called “Grandma’s Oil.” Grandma got it from a Chinese Herb Doctor in Portland, Oregon. It came in a very small bottle and was bright gold in color. When Grandma was around, if we were sick with a bad cold or ailing, we were rubbed with a drop on our chest, a drop on our back, and then they were covered with cotton. In a few days it would form puss pockets and drain. It was said that those were the impurities coming out of us. About this time we had a real foul odor, but it would mean certain death if we took a bath or took the cotton off. Then it would start drying up and you would itch until you nearly went crazy. You could not scratch it or it would bleed, and it didn’t seem to take the itch away anyway. The last stage was the peeling. You could peel big pieces of skin off. We used to try and see how big a piece we could peel off without breaking it. Then, heavenly day, we could take a bath, such as our baths were in a round tin tub. With the earaches I had, I always had the oil put on my ears and it did stop the earache. Instead of having mustard plasters they used in those days for croup or bad chest colds, we had “Grandma’s Oil.” No poor unsuspecting cold germ would dare come in contact with that oil. Grandma sent us something to use with the oil. It was called a “Flipper.” It was about ten inches long and made of polished black wood. On the end were sharp pins that covered the end of it, a space about the size of a nickel. It was in two pieces and opened up about half way in the middle. A rubber band was inserted inside. The pins were placed against your bare hide and the top half pulled up and let flip. It would prick the skin with tiny holes, then the oil could penetrate the skin better. I don’t know whether it did or whether it didn’t, but it hurt and we didn’t like it. I don’t think my mother had much faith in it either, she was chicken to use it on us. She didn’t use it very often. When I was home in 1978, Hugh Nibley wrote to mother and wanted to know where he could get one of Grandma’s Flippers. She had one in her trunk, so I personally carried the Flipper from Canada to California and mailed it to Hugh. Grandma Sloan was usually cooking up or brewing some kind of herbs. The winter I lived with her in Portland she decided I needed something. She went down to the Herb Doctor and brought home some herbs and stewed them up. I was supposed to drink half a glass of it each morning. The first morning she stood and watched me. It was the most bitter and nastiest stuff I have ever tasted. From then on I beat Grandma to the kitchen and poured my half-glass of herbs down the sink. When she would come in I would pull a face and drink water and tell her how terrible it tasted. She would console me with the remark that it would do me good. She decided, after I finished the first batch, that I was so much better, she didn’t think I needed any more. I was glad that was over. I even think the sink was glad too. Richard Nibley (grandson) I remember a large number of the family going to the movies and Grandmother Sloan was the only one there without glasses. She was in her 80s at that time. She had most of her own teeth, while many of the younger members of the family were losing theirs. One afternoon she had two wisdom teeth pulled, went shopping, and then took the streetcar home, but first stopped and had a warm drink. She seldom walked - SHE RAN!!! (A hand-drawn Christmas card to Grandma Sloan) For a thousand years Old Santa, Spread pleasure by the Gob. But now he’s just a Piker since Grandma’s on the job. (A hand-drawn Birthday Card to Grandma Sloan) She never sits But what she knits A diaper or a doily. With fingers raw She says, “Aw Pshaw” To working late and oily. Perpetual motion Is the lotion, On age she wages war. She loves her kin, Keeps them from Sin, By praying they’ll be POOR! Hugh Nibley (grandson) (A letter to Grandma Sloan from his mission, 1928) Dear Grandma: How shall I begin? I really think of you every day - or night rather, but I have thought that intimacy could only be insolence. Would you like to have an honest confession - something confidential and scientifically true? If you must know, since I was 8 years old I have known that you are “perfect as God is perfect.” That’s something to prove, but I believe it (if you will only believe me) and wonder at it every day. A person motivated only by charity - selfish for the welfare of the miserable, animated but unaffected; all void of the “mother-type” insipidity, free (unlike any other woman I know) from the nature of the cat! Grandma Sloan is a great phenomena. My wonder remains wholesome - I have not preserved it with a grain of salt. Sit tight and beat me into action with your prayers. Hugh Clara Sloan Smith (daughter) At the time of my birth, mother was very sick and her life was despaired of. Both doctors in the town (Manti) had gone to Salt Lake to conference and there seemed to be nothing the women-folks could do. On Monday a Dr. St.John stopped in Manti. Father heard of him and went to the hotel and got him to attend mother. With his help, and the help of the Priesthood, she and I were saved. I remember my father being brought home one night on a stretcher. He worked at some mine and had his back hurt. We children all cried because we thought he was dead, he was so white. Also, I remember the night or early morning when we got the telegram about his brother and two of his brother’s sons being killed in the Butte explosion in 1895. While he and my brother John were in Butte, Montana, my baby brother, George Peacock, died. Ours was a good home. My earliest recollections were of Mother or Father reading stories to us as we sat around the fireplace in the evening. Mother taught us songs and Father played the mouth organ. All the boys could play the mouth organ as well as the tin whistle. We had our time to play and had our lessons to get. Then we had our work to do. I don’t think there was hardly a night that we didn’t have home evening. My father would lay in bed and read, and he read good books. He was a lover of the Book of Mormon and the Indians. He read lots of histories to us - the history of the Prophet and other histories - Queen Victoria and Abraham Lincoln and books of that type. He loved and read a lot of Dickens’ work, and also Mowbray. My earliest recollection of Christmas was in Manti, Utah. Mother’s brothers and sisters, and their families, were always at our home for Christmas. I don’t remember having turkey - it was always chicken and roast ham. Then on New Year’s, all of the families went to Aunt Jane and Uncle Will K. Reid’s home. I believe they always had roast goose for dinner. On the 4th of July we would go to Grandfather and Grandmother Reid’s home where the big dinner consisted of roast duck, green peas, and new potatoes. My father made Christmas for the children. When we came to Canada we didn’t have a tree the first year or two. We made paper chains and strung popcorn and cranberries and decorated the house. After the first two years we always had a lovely green Christmas tree. This was also true when we lived on the ranch at Kimball. I remember Mother baking pies, cakes, and cookies, and she made her own mince meat. Father would kill a beef and a pig about a week before Christ-mas. Then there would be a dozen chickens killed and prepared. Someone who did not have as much as we had always was invited to dinner. There were baskets of meat, pies, and often a chicken, and goodies for the families who did not have much. Father could never see children go without at Christmastime. Many a child received new shoes from Santa because father and mother loved to give. I have seen father drive all over the Kimball and Taylorsville districts in Canada delivering things two or three days before Christmas so that no child would be missed. Phyllis Sloan Allen (granddaughter - as told to Barbara N. Richards in 1982) So much of what I think of Grandpa is more of a feeling and I can “see” him very clearly. He was six feet tall, which was a tall man in those days, but in his family he was always considered “little Hugh” because his sisters were taller than he. And he was the only one who joined the Church. He had a grey mustache and nice grey/blue eyes. There was always a twinkle. And I always think about his great love and adoration for Grandma. We’ve always said in my family that both of my grandfathers just adored my grandmothers. Two of the most beautiful love affairs that I’ve ever known. I can see Grandpa come to the door - sometimes he’d get to the door and he’d start singing, “I wander today to the hills, Maggie,” because her name was Margaret and he used to say that any-thing she did was right. She couldn’t do anything wrong. Couldn’t anymore find anything about her to criticize than anything in the world. And she was, I mean, we get this strong drive from our grandmother, not our grandfather. He was the gentle, kind, sweet person that we all just adored. He would say, “No matter how little we have, we get along fine because of Maggie. You give her a greasy dishrag and a frying pan and she could fix a good meal.” Grandpa worked in the mines in Park City. I don’t know just what he did but I know it had to do with mining. And that’s the reason they went to Canada, because they decided that it was no life for a family of boys. So they went to Canada and homesteaded out on the farm by the river. My father John, was 15, oldest of the family. He was Grandpa’s right-hand man. The first experience I had with a corpse was Grandpa Sloan. His body lay in our parlor - you know how they used to do it. I remember standing on tiptoe to see him. It was a very sad ex-perience because I loved him very much. We all did. He was a dear, dear man. We were a little afraid of Grandma but I became quite close to her. She taught me to crochet. I remember sitting by her knee. She was very concerned with family and that we all do the right thing. All my life I grew up knowing that I had a great-grandfather [John Patrick Reid] who was some-times ornery. Nobody could live with him except Grandma Sloan. She could manage him so he lived with her for years in Manti. [Others in the family remember him kindly and that he planted gardens and played with the children. Barbara was told by her oldest brother, Sloan, that when our family lived in Portland, he was only five years old and Great Grandfather Reid was there. A cow got loose and they were chasing it. Sloan said, “Here I was, five years old, young and full of energy but couldn’t catch that cow. But Great Grandfather Reid was 99 - 99, and he caught the cow.”] We were always very proud of Grandma Sloan. She was a pretty woman and she could walk us all to death. And she exercised at night. I remember seeing her exercise, and I thought she was too old to be exercising. She kept in shape that way. Every spring you had to clean your system out, so Grandma made us these gallons - the most vile looking stuff you have ever seen - it was sort of a greenish……well, just vile! I don’t know what she put in it but we had to take it every morning to “clean our systems out” in the spring. That’s what you did. So we had Grandma’s tonic. Another thing she used to make. One time my mother went away and Grandma Sloan stayed with us and she made us barley soup ‘til the thought of barley today just absolutely makes me sick. Barley soup and baked biscuits. She had things that everybody should use. Of course, she was a nurse. She wasn’t an R.N. but in her younger years she had a lot of training. She was a trained nurse, of sorts, so she spoke with authority. But that tonic - oh, that was nasty! But we took it, no matter what. Nobody questioned. If Grandma said that was the thing to do, that’s what we’d do. That’s Grandma!

John Patrick Reid

Contributor: Jondrae Created: 5 months ago Updated: 5 months ago

John Patrick Reid was born in Drumbo, Down County, Ireland 26 Feb 1825. It was in Scotland that he and his wife, Margaret Kirkwood Reid joined the Mormon Church in 1847. Soon after 1857, they moved back to Belfast Ireland, where he was Branch President for sixteen years, nine of which the church meetings were held in his home. The family endured religious persecution while living in Ireland; “Many times he and his wife had stones and eggs thrown at them and she had her shawl and bonnet torn off her.” He was a gardener (reportedly for an Earl) and at age 26, he became a “French Polisher,” working with fine furniture. In 1862, (4 May 1862)* John Patrick Reid’s brother, William Taylor Reid and two of his sons, William Kirkwood Reid and John Kirkwood Reid emigrated to Utah. John Patrick Reid emigrated to Utah in 1871, (21 June 1871)* and a year later, (16 Oct 1872)* his wife Margaret Kirkwood Reid and daughter Margaret Violet Reid (Sloan), William, Alex, and Agnes emigrated to Utah. The family eventually settled in Manti, Sanpete County, Utah. While in Manti, He worked on the temple, and as recorded by Hugh W. Nibley: "John Patrick Reid, my great grandfather, whom I remember very well, was the first Branch President in Belfast Ireland and also the leader of the Masonic Order there. I’ve often been told that his work on the Manti Temple specialized in the hardware for the doors, designing both the hinges and the knobs. Sometimes the ornaments are the naturalistic curves characteristic of the nineteenth century, but as long as he was at it, it seemed Brother Reid might as well put some symbolism in the ornamentation. . . . Brother Reid, both as a top Mason and as a superstitious Irishman (he firmly believed in fairies) and as a designer of solemn and significant objects would call upon his knowledge to supply the mystic symbols. Whether he knew their significance or not, it just happens that he, or this little object, [the door knob plate] has depicted the three most important symbols in the Egyptian mysteries. . ." (The Manti Temple, edited by Victor J. Rasmussen. Provo: Community Press, 1988. 33-36,): He was well read and could talk intelligently on any subject. He was about five feet nine inches tall, weighing about 150 to 160 pounds. When he was 83, he wrote the following testimony for his posterity: “Mormonism is true. John P. Reid, 83 years and has proved it for 60 years.” (Irish Civil Registration records birth of Sarah Jane Reid states that John Reid, the Father's occupation was "French Polisher" and gives address as 15 Christopher, Belfast. (FHL British Film 0,101,170 p. 314)) The more complete history of John Patrick Reid is written in “John K. Reid Family From Castle Valley, Utah,” compiled by Mary Reid Edwards and Dortha Reid Brough, 1983. (Family History Library, Salt Lake City, Utah, Call Number 929.273 R272e.) (In History of William Charles Smith, Jr. and Clara Sloan Smith and Family by Ruth Smith Gifford, (FHL 929.271 Sm 68rg) p.451 It states ”John Reid added the “P” for “Patrick” to his name after he came to Utah as there were so many by the name of John Reid. Birth cert. Etc. in Scotland and Ireland of children used name of John Reid.” *Dates given in Record of Members of Belfast Conference, (film # 1017450).

Eschatology

Contributor: Jondrae Created: 5 months ago Updated: 5 months ago

I have experienced an interesting transformation/evolution over the years re our activity and focus with the gospel. Of course, Syl and I have always been “active”, whatever that means, going to Church, raising the kids accordingly. We have been busy in a number of callings and responsibilities, mostly just helping us plow ahead with the children and our own busy lives. All has not been status quo, however. After Sylvia jumped into genealogy, there has been definite motion in our lives and focus. We have witnessed one miracle after another as names and families and information have been forthcoming. We have enjoyed being the detectives and ferreting out the hidden knowledge re her family. I have enjoyed the efforts, since it has all been relatively new territory. On my side of the family, our ancestry has been peppered with research, study and publications. A lot of time and money have been invested into the work by scads of folks. It has been a ponderous undertaking, the work shared among so many different branches of the family. Sylvia’s family on the other hand has been a fertile field. Some roadblocks were encountered early on but with perseverance we pressed forward and have been the recipients of powerful info and insights. This grew in snowball fashion until becoming quite top-heavy. Thankfully, at just the right juncture, the temple was announced and built in Reno and we were able to begin performing the ordinances for thousands of these people. Our work in this area has been fulfilling and delightful. We were blessed with wave after wave of warmth and satisfaction, knowing that we were indeed reaching across the veil and having an impact on so many lives. When I was released from seminary and then the bishopric in 2001 I was called to teach Family History. It was a great calling and again we saw a lot of success (most notably with Lorraine Rundle). Names were found, information was processed and temple work was done. It was very gratifying. While teaching, I tended to break the work of genealogy into two different fields: one, the serious journal writing, family info gathering, careful documenting and cataloguing, picture sorting type---I saw it (kindly, I hope) as busy work and a bit superfluous; and then there was the nitty-gritty collecting of basic information necessary in order to process the people for the temple, which I found much more important. We crashed ahead with our efforts being geared to the latter and were subsequently greatly blessed in so many areas of our lives. It really has been an exhilarating undertaking. We finally reached a point where we were really reaching far out, being quite extended in our searching, maybe even poaching from too many of other possibly excited hunters and searchers. There came a cessation of the flurry of computer and family history activity as we began finishing up the work we had accrued. In 2004 I decided to transcribe the letters that Sylvia had written me while in Brazil. I thought that maybe because of Sylvia’s handwriting, that many might find bothersome to wade through (but let me add that her penmanship has always made my heart skip a beat---I love it and see it as a personal extension of who she is) maybe if I should type it out on the computer, access to her thoughts and history would be a lot easier for the kids. While proceeding with this undertaking I experienced a wonderful transformation. Once again, I was reliving the times. It was an emotional odyssey and reawakened so many dormant memories and feelings. I felt alive and happy and reinvigorated. My love and devotion for Sylvia, which I always felt had been healthy and hale, seemed to catapult forward, as I remembered again the sacrifices and love that she shared with me over the great distances and durations of time. When I was beginning to finish this project was when I was inspired (July 2004) to begin contacting her family and friends to write our family letters of remembrance about her for Sylvia’s 50th birthday. The response was astounding. Scores of people, many who hadn’t seen or heard from us in years, came creatively and charitably forward, sharing touching and tender memories and testimonials of who Sylvia is and how she has touched and strengthened their lives. Again, this was phenomenally emotional for me as I began to see her from different points of view. It was an epiphany. This was my immersion. My emphasis in family history switched from the almost mechanical gathering work (although still extremely important) to the more satisfying and personally gratifying efforts of family history. The individual fleshing out of lives and stories. The response among the family has been equally strong, as folks seem to resonate more with the tales and pictures than with the rather drab names, dates and places. We began gathering and writing our personal histories. Sylvia allowed me to pester her mercilessly for pertinent information, as I then did what I do best, peck away on the QWERTY board. Amazingly, stuff began accumulating. Stories and photos were added. I began hearing stories from Sylvia that she had told me years ago but because of my lack of interest, I never categorized or saved them. I felt foolish at not having paid more attention in the first place. There was a price, however. Syl’s patience with my prying and prodding began to show. She started dodging my queries and resisting my questions. Two reasons, I think: she doesn’t like being the focal point all the time; and she feels like her life, especially before her baptism, wasn’t happy or worth recalling. I don’t see it that way and consequently have proven to be a festering thorn in her side. Volumes of materiel have been garnered; letters and stories have piled up in binders and computer folders. It has been an adventure which I have thoroughly enjoyed. A collateral outcome to this has been my elevation in the family’s eyes as having a “good memory”, etc. Mostly, it’s because I’ve been dwelling so much in the past that the days of yesteryear seem to have resurrected. I certainly don’t apologize. I revel in the past, in the building of the foundation that has contributed to my marriage and family and who I currently am and my understanding of the gospel. Things seem so much deeper and valuable. I cherish the past and it colors my current perceptions and points me unerringly into the future. It has been an interesting ride. On the other hand, I have been accused of living too much in the past or leaning too heavily on the future and not staying enough in the present. Another side note I have experienced has been this acceleration of my curiosity and interest in gospel topics, mostly the spirit world. I have scribbled countless notes re the subject and have been reading from the Book of Mormon with strictly this approach; I have been attending the temple, the Lord’s university, and there receiving additional fodder for thought. And I have been reading more voraciously this year than ever before; stuff from Bushman, Givens, Margaret Barker and Seaich, but especially I have been rereading all of Nibley’s books. There have been innumerable revelations to me, new and ones that I had forgotten. I have been the recipient of vast quantities of knowledge, of varying degrees of spirituality and importance. And so finally, to the emphasis of this essay of mine at the present. Yesterday (1/30/08) I was reading in Nibley’s “Mormonism and Early Christianity” (FARMS volume 4 of Nibley’s collected works) in his essay “The Way of the Church” and came across a story of his I have paraphrased a number of times for a number of emphases, but this one was more extended than I’d remembered when he was referring to his own “life after life” experience at Loma Linda and his subsequent approach to the temporal and mundane. He no doubt abbreviated this. Anyway, while discussing eschatology in this extended parable, he stated the following, regarding his fictitious protagonist, perhaps Adam or Every Man, who knows? But as I read this paragraph, my eyes bugged out as I felt an acute connection. Speaking of our moribund hero “…he is visited ever more frequently by memories, memories of astonishing clarity and vividness---mostly from his childhood, and he finds himself at the same time slipping ever more easily into speculations, equally vivid, on the world to come and the future of this world. The limits of time begin to melt and fuse until everything seems present but the present. In a word, his thinking has become eschatological.” When I read this I was shocked. It was as though he had pegged me squarely between the eyes. I took the find upstairs and read it to Sylvia and asked who she thought he was describing, and she said, “You.” There it is. I stand validated and vindicated in at least some of my eccentricities.

Hugh Winder Nibley memories of his Grandfather Charles Wilson Nibley

Contributor: Jondrae Created: 5 months ago Updated: 5 months ago

Hugh Winder Nibley grandson of C.W. Nibley and Rebecca Neibaur My earliest remembrance of Grandpa and Grandma Nibley was when they came out to Portland and stayed at the Portland Hotel and we’d go see them. Going up in the elevator was a great thrill. Grandma was always fanning herself. She was quite Jewish, right down to the ground. She was very short and stout and looked just like Alexander Neibaur. She had that fierce look about her, but she was dynamic. She was dynamite. And she was fun, more fun than a picnic. She and Ellen and Julia hit it off beautifully. We often had them together and had very nice times. The children were always saying, “Aunt Becky, Aunt Julia, Aunt Ellen.” They made no distinction and got along great. She always had money and would give us something. That was appreciated. Having suffered deprivation, and also being Jewish, she loved jewelry, and looked like a walking Christmas tree when she came down the street. She was loaded with the stuff. And it was great stuff; but she’d been deprived of that and it is a Jewish tradition for all the gold and jewelry. When I’d go to Grandma’s house, she would cook things, and once it was during the summer. It was very, very hot, and she was always hot anyway. So the only way they could cool themselves was to put a block of ice under the bed. I remember how she suffered from the heat. I remember going with Grandma and Grandpa in his big green Packard up to Rexburg to Uncle Charlie’s ranch to watch the horns being sawed off an old bull. When I lived in Portland we took a trip to Salt Lake. The first thing Grandma said was, “I’m going to take the boys [Sloan and Hugh] down and get you some seal rings.” She, loving jewelry, took us down to get some seal rings. Of course, we both lost them, but I had mine for some years. I got to know Grandpa very well because he loved my interest in things. I was a nut for astronomy and Grandma Nibley tried to get me away from it. She said, “That’s not practical! Now look, what if the astronomers discovered all these stars? How much have they discovered? Only the names of the stars. They finally discovered them, but that’s all they discovered. They only know the names.” That’s the kind of education she had. Grandpa and I corresponded. I got letters from him and I wrote to him because he was a nut for Shakespeare, and so was I. He was great friends with the First Presidency and they were Scotch Shakespeare buffs. They would always try to top each other with quotes and correcting each other on quoting the most, and so forth. I used to play that game with Grandpa, too. That was fun. The day Brigham Young first met Charles Nibley he wrote a letter to someone saying, “I just met a young man called Charles Nibley. He is one of the most brilliant men I ever met.” When I was going on my mission I stayed in his house. He would come down about 1:00 or 2:00 in the morning and talk for hours about various things. We had some wonderful conversations. At that time the Klu Klux Klan were burning crosses at Ensign Peak. There were some interesting things going on all the time, and he was very frank telling some of the stories. He said he’d walked into President Grant’s office and said, “Here, Heber. I’d like you to have this for the Church. It’s $3500 in cash. Please don’t tell my family about this.” Stephen L. Richards said that Charles W. Nibley paid the largest tithing that had ever been paid in the history of the Church. He was always honest in his paying of tithes. I remember once my Dad took him to the corner of Vermont and Wilshire in Los Angeles. Dad told him he could get that corner lot for something like $25,000, and Grandpa said, “That’s too high. I wouldn’t do it.” Next time Grandpa came down, in less than a month, Dad drove him to the very same spot. “See there, last week that lot was sold for $50,000.” Grandpa brooded about it all day long that he had missed all that money. He said when he made his first $5,000 he couldn’t believe it. It seemed all wrong to him. All he had to do was sign a piece of paper and here was $5,000. “Is that the way people get rich?” he said. They’d had to work so hard in the mines of Scotland. They knew what labor was. He felt so guilty about it. Whenever he came down to California to visit he’d say, “Do you need any money? Just like that. That’s why we liked Grandpa. He liked to spread it around and make everybody happy. Grandpa wanted to be an actor so he was up on the movie stars. He loved Mary Pickford. Grandma Rebecca loved the theater, too. She was wild about it, even more than Grandpa. Grandpa would subsidize the 24th of July celebrations at Ocean Park or Venice in California. All the members of the Church would come down for free and go on all the concessions because Grandpa had just bought it out. That’s what his money was for, just to give pleasure. He lost it all in the depression, but he paid all his debts. Before he died he made sure all his creditors were taken care of. He had co-signed for so many people, then had to pay off their debts. I used to caddy for Grandpa. He was a great golfer. I was a lousy caddy, but my brother, Sloan, was pretty good. He would caddy for Senator Smoot most of the time. He loved children. He was good to people.

Margaret Violet Reid Sloan

Contributor: Jondrae Created: 5 months ago Updated: 5 months ago

MARGARET VIOLET REID SLOAN [These stories and excerpts from the lives of Hugh and Margaret Sloan were taken from the book HISTORY OF WILLIAM CHARLES SMITH, JR. AND CLARA SLOAN SMITH AND FAMILY, written by Ruth Smith Gifford.] Margaret (Maggie) Violet Reid was the fifth child of John Patrick and Margaret Kirkwood Reid. She was born April 16, 1857 in Edinburgh, Scotland. She used the birth date of April 27 all her life and on all Church records. However, her birth certificate indicated she was born April 16. John and Margaret Reid heard the Gospel, as taught by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, in Scotland. Margaret Violet was always taught the principles of the Gospel in her home and was baptized in Belfast, Ireland by her Uncle Edward Reid on June 4, 1865. She was later rebaptized in 1873 in Manti, Utah. Margaret’s brothers, William Kirkwood Reid and John Kirkwood Reid, came to America in 1862 with their Uncle William Taylor Reid and settled in Payson, Utah. They later moved to Manti. Maggie’s father came to Utah in 1871, the year prior to the rest of the family’s coming. Maggie came to America with the rest of her family in 1872. During the voyage there was a terrible storm and they had a very rough crossing. Everyone on the boat was sick but the Captain and Maggie’s mother. She helped the Captain take care of all the sick on the boat. It took them three weeks to make the crossing. They stopped in New York for several days to see Margaret’s brother, William Kirkwood. Maggie never knew just where he came from but said it took sever-al days for her uncle to get to New York. They traveled by train to Salt Lake City where they were met by John P. Reid and William Taylor Reid, who then took them to Manti. John P. had built a house out of stone which he had quarried from the hill on which the Manti Temple stands. Maggie never had any desire to go back to Ireland. She said all she could remember was fighting in the streets and always remembered seeing blood running in the gutters and people fighting with clubs and stones. As a girl, Maggie was very popular. She was a very good singer. In fact, all the members of her family were good singers. She worked out with families doing washing and ironing for 25 cents a day, this to help buy her clothes. In those days there were no wash boards and everyone had to wash by hand. How happy she was when she could have a washboard to do a washing on. She went to Salt Lake City to work where she got three dollars a week at one home. While in Salt Lake City she went with her brother William K., to a farewell party for a young friend of his who was going to China. This friend was Hugh Russel Sloan, who was a fine looking man. The feeling seemed to be mutual because he never went to China. He sold his ticket after he got to San Francisco and came back to Salt Lake City. He said all he could see was this beautiful girl, and he came back to Manti to tell her folks, and to prepare to be married. Her parents objected to her marriage as Hugh was not a member of the LDS Church. He felt the Church was true but did not feel that he was ready to be baptized at that time. However, they did tell Maggie if she was going to marry him she was to be married at home. Maggie gathered wool from the bushes in the foothills and then would take it to the Hot Springs to wash it. Then she would card and spin the wool and knit socks. She sold the socks to the miners at Eureka for 25 cents a pair. With this money she bought her trousseau. She and a friend made a trip to Salt Lake City with their neighbor, Brother David Shann, in order to buy her wedding dress and other things she needed. On this trip they stopped at Nephi all night and after they left the next morning it started to snow. By the time they got to the Point of the Mountain, she and the other girl had to walk and help push the wagon through the snow. This other girl was likely her dear friend, Marion Tennant. Hugh Russel Sloan (22 years) and Margaret Violet Reid (22 years) were married September 27, 1878 by Brother James Brown at the home of her parents, after which a reception was given in their honor. After the wedding they traveled to Salt Lake City with her brother William K. She slept in the wagon and the two men took turns sleeping and driving the team, and keeping watch as the Indians were very troublesome at that time. Then they went to Park City to live where Hugh’s two sisters lived. Their first child and son was born there, John Samuel, July 6, 1879. The second child and son, William Reid, was born March 30, 1881, after they moved back to Manti where they bought a two-room adobe house. The family moved to Emery County for a time and then back to Manti where Hugh Russel, Jr. was born on March 25, 1883. After Hugh built a new home in Manti, Agnes was born October 17, 1885. Another daughter, Maggie, was born September 22, 1887, but passed away when she was not quite one year old, after an illness of two days. Clara was born on October 14, 1889, and Ruth was born September 15, 1892. Then another boy was born, George Peacock, on July 19, 1894, the eighth child of Hugh and Maggie Sloan. On March 24, 1896, Edward Louden was born in Manti. He died just the day before the family was to leave for Canada. Hugh had gone there previously, so Maggie and her children stayed with her parents before traveling to Canada. When they arrived in their new country, some of the women had prepared a fine dinner for them. Hugh had taken the box their organ had been packed in and put legs on it so they could use it for a table. The sides were so deep it was hard to get their knees under it. But the ladies had un-packed Maggie’s fine linen and good silver and had a lovely table set with pretty flowers they had raised in their gardens. Hugh had rented a two-room house. This house had a dirt floor and one of the first things Hugh did was get some shingles and put a good roof on it. It rained most of August and all through September and many a night they went to bed with milk pans on the bed to catch the drips. Hugh would lie in bed reading while holding an umbrella over their heads to keep the rain off. That summer, about the time they arrived in Cardston, there was a big timber fire in Waterton Lakes and big pieces of ash would fall all over the town of Cardston. They never saw the sun for six weeks. Then the rains came and cleared the smoke away. That fall, when the potatoes were dug and the grain harvested, the potatoes were so watery that you could squeeze water out of them, and the grain was frozen. They took the grain to the old Burr Mill down on Lee’s Creek and had it ground into flour. From this flour the bread they made had to be baked for hours. One time John took a piece of bread tight in his hand and then threw it against the wall and it stuck there because there was so much moisture in the flour. The Sloans had brought lots of good bottled peaches and pears with them from Utah. Many of the sisters hadn’t had good bottled peaches for many years, but it wasn’t long before every woman in Cardston had a bottle of fruit from Sister Sloan. Soon her fruit supply was all gone. After that, they gathered wild fruit to bottle. Ruth and Clara used to take little buckets and gather rose berries from which Maggie made jelly. One time their father brought a treat from Lethbridge - three little green peaches, costing him one dollar. When their new baby was due, Maggie went into Cardston to live with Brother and Sister Evans so she would have care. She took Clara and Ruth with her and they took their own bedding and food to help pay expenses. This was in January of 1899 and the weather was extremely cold. Their house was very cold and drafty and the walls of the room were covered with frost so thick it could be dug off. Maggie had a very hard time and suffered a great deal from the cold. She had Ruth and Clara sleep at her feet to keep her warm. Rayman Reid was born January 28, 1899. Both Maggie and the baby were sick for a long time. However, a Chinook came and Hugh was able to take them home. After they got home, Maggie was still sick and needed help, both for herself and for the baby. Will was sent across the river to bring sister Emily Olsen, who came with her baby and stayed several days. Maggie’s new baby was blessed, as they didn’t think he would live, so they gave him the name of Rayman Reid. He died February 26, 1899. Maggie was sick for a long time and never seemed to gain her strength until spring came. Through this experience a friendship was started with Sister Olsen that lasted through the years. Going back to the spring of 1897, the Sloans moved to a house further down into Cardston and here they planted a garden and had a good crop. As new immigrants arrived, Maggie would send her children with vegetables for the new families. As a young girl, Maggie had a desire to be a doctor and while in Salt Lake City she worked and lived in a doctor’s home and helped him in his practice. She studied a great deal, but could not be a doctor because as a child she had the index finger on her right hand cut off in a flax machine. That prohibited her from doing medical work. She lived for two or three years with the doctor’s family and had access to his medical books and she studied from them. In the days when there were no doctors in the Cardston area she used her skills at doctoring and also used herbs as cures. She would take her daughters out in the fields and gather different herbs, dry them, and have them for her use. During the years the family lived on the ranch, there were lots of young fellows who came that were sick, and Maggie took care of them. One time, Victor Frank and John were in the mountains getting logs out to build Victor a house, and a new house for the Sloans. Victor’s axe slipped, cutting his foot between his toes. John tied his shirt around Victor’s leg to help stop the bleeding but he lost a lot of blood anyway. When they got home, Maggie took care of him and doctored his foot. They tried many things to stop the bleeding, but finally she thought of putting some cayenne pepper right on the foot. This seemed to coagulate the blood. Victor was on crutches for some time, but he never had any bad effects or infection. Many of the sick boys who came to Maggie had rheumatism and were on crutches afterwards. This was inconvenient for Maggie to care for them since she only had two rooms. There was a bed in the kitchen and straw ticks to put on the floor at night to make extra beds. After Doctor Brant came to Cardston, Maggie used to go with him to the homes and help as his nurse. There were many homes she went to with him when babies were to be born. On one occasion she went to care for Roy Folsom’s wife. She had had many problems when having her babies previously and the doctor was afraid that she would have trouble again, so Maggie was called to help. Sister Folsom had twin boys and then developed kidney poisoning and died. Also, one of the twins died. Maggie took the other boy, Roy, Jr., home to raise. The doctor said he didn’t think the child could possibly live but Maggie told Roy, Sr. that she would take the baby and do what she could. They had the baby in their home for six or eight months, and then the baby’s Grandmother came from Salt Lake City to take the baby home with her. That was a very sad time for the Sloan family, to give up that baby boy. Maggie was always doing things for people and in so doing traveled many miles to treat and care for the sick. In November 1900, Maggie took Clara and Ruth to Manti for the winter. While there she visited her family and visited with her brothers in Orangeville, Emery County. Also that winter, Maggie and her mother did a lot of work in the Temple for their relatives. It was during this visit that she heard of her son Will’s call to the mission field and this made her very happy. Maggie had had blessings and administrations before and after Will was born in which promises were made of the things that he would do. One of the things she had been promised was that he would go to the nations of the earth and preach the Gospel. They went to April Conference in Salt Lake City and met Will there before his departure to the mission field, and then returned to Canada. Hugh built a new house on the banks of the St. Mary’s River. The house was of logs and lath and plaster on the inside and weather board on the outside. There were two big bedrooms up-stairs, a big hall which was used for a bedroom, and a big living room and bedroom with closets downstairs. He moved part of the old house and added that on for the kitchen so that gave them lots of room. At one time, when plans were to put in an irrigation canal, President Joseph F. Smith and President Charles Ora Card, with other men, came along the river looking for a site where they thought it would be good to take the canal out of the St. Mary’s River. President Smith went to see the river, and as he left the Sloan house he said, “Brother Sloan, I’m afraid you have made a mistake building your house so near the river,” and Hugh said, “Oh, I don’t think so, President Smith, come and see.” They walked over to the bank where it was solid rock. President Smith put his hand on Hugh’s shoulder and said, “Brother Sloan, you have been a wise man. You have built your house on a firm foundation. May your life always be on the foundation of truth and right.” This was the beginning of a friendship between President Smith and Hugh and Maggie Sloan. After that they met several times in Portland at their daughter Agnes’ home. In August of 1901, John (son) married Grace Kearl and they lived for a time in one room of the Sloan home. When their first child, Kenneth, was about six months old he became very sick. This was at a time when John was away for a few days in Lethbridge on business. They didn’t know whether Kenneth was going to live or not and it was only through Maggie’s treatment and the priesthood and their faith and prayers that Kenneth’s life was preserved at that time. In December 1901, Maggie was expecting another baby, so her sister Lucy, and Lucy’s husband, and their foster daughter came from Manti to be with her. That Christmas they had a great time. Another sister Sarah, and her husband and family, and all the Sloans were together. On February 7, 1902, Edgar Lloyd was born. Maggie had a very hard delivery, even though at-tended by a doctor. Lloyd was a beautiful baby and brought lots of love and happiness into the home. Maggie had lost four babies and the family was anxious to have a little baby in the home again. As a child Lloyd had beautiful golden curls and big blue eyes. One of Maggie’s prized possessions was a lock of Lloyd’s golden hair. She kept it the remainder of her life. Maggie read something from the Bible, Book of Mormon, or Doctrine and Covenants every day, as well as attending to her Church duties, caring for her family, helping care for the sick, and other activities. Maggie knit the men’s stockings, sewed their shirts, and made the girls’ clothes. She would set out as many as nineteen pans of milk night and morning and skim that many from the day before, churn butter and make as much as three or four hundred pounds of cheese every summer, using a press which Hugh made for her. Maggie made all her own soap. The washing was all done on a wash board. It wasn’t until about 1902-03 that she got a washer which was turned by hand. Wheat was cleaned and then ground in an old coffee mill for cereal. The beef was corned. The pork was salted in brine, then hung in a smokehouse where a certain type of wood was burned slowly, smoking the meat. It would then be wrapped and stored in the grain bins. There were always crowds of men to cook for, such as the threshers each fall, etc. The old thresher was horse-powered. The grain would be stacked and the men would come with their teams to help harvest it. There were six or eight men there for weeks and Maggie would have to cook for them. In the evening they would all sit around the front room, sing songs and tell stories. One old man used to sing a song that everyone loved to hear. It had thirty-seven verses. When Will (her son) was Bishop of the Kimball Ward, Maggie was in the Relief Society presidency. She came home one day and said, “Willy, you just should have been at Relief Society today and heard the talks about how the young people dress today.” He asked her who had talked and she said, “Why, I did.” From then on this was a great joke in the family. If anyone in the family had talked or participated, then they knew why it was such a good meeting. There was many a laugh from this story. In the later years of the 1890s and early 1900s a lot of the women of the Alberta Stake lived on ranches. Those who had a home with a shingled roof and plastered walls were considered very fortunate. Those with a good buggy were riding in the height of style, as more often they rode in a lumber wagon. And if there was a spring seat, they did ride in comfort. When Maggie was the president of the Relief Society of the Kimball Ward she would drive her horse and cart the seven or eight miles to Kimball for Church and her meetings. Maggie and Estella Ward lived neighbors, about seven miles southwest of the ward. At one time they both were workers in the Relief society - Maggie in the presidency and Estella as the chorister. Some-times they went to their meetings in a lumber wagon, sometimes with a team and buggy, and then again in a two-wheeled cart. They were always determined to go to their meetings. The Sloans had two horses that they used at different times on the two-wheeled cart. One was called Bay Maud, a beautiful singlefooter, and her mother, Old Grey Maud, who could singlefoot if she felt like it, or depending on who drove her. One beautiful Thursday morning these good sisters had to be at Relief Society early because it was work meeting and they thought of the good time they would have visiting with the other sisters. Work meetings were always “red letter days” and perhaps some new family had moved into the district within ten or fifteen miles. This particular morning the only means of transportation was Old Grey Maud and the cart. They started off, feeling very light-hearted and happy. Maggie had the lines and Estella had the whip. Everything went fine for about four miles, then Old Grey Maud began to lag. Estella used the whip but did not want to hurt the poor mare so she tapped her on the tail, not realizing that Old Grey Maud had a habit of backing up when hit on the tail. When the hit came, Old Grey Maud backed nearer the lake, and Maggie, to help out, pulled the lines a little tighter, and back they would go until they were out in the water. That would never do, so the taps got harder and out they went a little further until they were sitting with the water halfway to their knees and Old Grey Maud would not move an inch further. She’d just switch her tail and splash them with the slimy water. The sun got higher and higher; the day got hotter and hotter; the mosquitos got thicker and thick-er. And there they sat with Old Grey Maud contentedly switching her tail to keep the flies and mosquitos off her back. There was not much chance of a cow puncher or a passerby coming along as only the Sloans and the Wards used that prairie road. As for any of the family coming to look for them, they would hardly get worried until the next day because Maggie often went to take care of someone who was sick or having a baby, and then usually the next day she would send word where she was. The two women prayed for someone to come that way and help them out. Hours went by and no one came. Then, just as the sun was setting like a beautiful ball of fire, a horseman came into view. He was off some distance and did not see them, but by standing up in the seat, shouting, and waving their sunbonnets, he finally saw them. At last he came, and it was Maggie’s son Will, who was the bishop. He was convulsed with laughter at the funny sight, but it wasn’t long until they were out of the lake and on their way home. Needless to say, Old Grey Maud never took them to Relief society again. The family always saw that they got there all right. After moving to Cardston, Maggie worked on the Relief Society Board when Sister Mary Woolf, and then Sister Lydia J. Brown (mother of Hugh B. Brown) were the stake Relief Society Presidents. At one time she and Sister Brown went up north to High River, Claresholm, and Stavely where there were small branches of the Church. President Wood would go and hold conferences with the people and this one time he took Maggie and Sister Brown with him and left them there for a week or ten days so they could visit every home in the district. Maggie and Sister Brown had some very outstanding experiences during that time. They found out problems that President Wood had not been able to find out and Maggie made some very dear friends on that trip. Another Relief Society story was that one time Maggie and Sister Brown went to Aetna to Relief Society. They were in a little one-horse buggy of Sister Brown’s. It got very cold, so after their Relief Society meeting was out they went to Sister Brown’s daughter’s home, Sister Edna Tanner (mother of Nathan Eldon Tanner), and had lunch. Her husband got some rocks and heated them to put in the bottom of the buggy to keep their feet and legs warm. A storm seemed to be coming up and the wind was very cold from the north as they started for Cardston. All at once they felt they were getting hot. They could smell something burning, so they stopped and opened up the quilts. The quilts were on fire, and as they pulled the quilts and rocks out of the buggy, they blazed up in the air and started a prairie fire. Lucky for them some men came along and helped put the fire out and because the field was plowed, the fire only went about a half a mile. They were very frightened women. Maggie was always active in the Church. In her younger days she was a Sunday School teacher and also worked in the Mutual. She worked in Relief Society for many years and was personally acquainted with some of the General Presidents of Relief Society, such as Eliza R. Snow, Zina D. Young, Emmaline B. Wells, and Lula Green Richards. Some of her personal friends were also President Joseph F. Smith, President Heber J. Grant, President Charles W. Nibley, and many of the Apostles. Maggie always wanted her family to live and obey the commandments of the Lord. It is said that she prayed that her family would always be poor, because they would be humble, and then they would have wealth - they would have the Gospel. And Maggie’s desire was that her boys should go on missions and serve in the Church. After Maggie’s mother, Margaret Kirkwood Reid, died on June 9, 1904, her father John Patrick Reid, went to Canada to live with the Sloans. While there he raised beautiful gardens. He also helped with the children and gave them their daily lessons when they couldn’t attend school. Maggie’s health began to fail, and after Agnes was married in 1907 and moved to Portland, Oregon, Maggie went to Portland to be with her. She felt so well while in Portland that after she came home, and through the encouragement of Agnes and Alex, Hugh and Maggie moved to Portland for a few years. In 1909 they bought a nice home. Maggie would sometimes have the elders board with them, but most of the time they had the lady missionaries. She was always busy and helping out in the Church, no matter where she was. She was a counselor to Sister Ballard (wife of Melvin J. Ballard) in the Relief Society. In this calling she traveled to many places in and around Portland with Brother and Sister Ballard. Maggie had also known Brother Ballard’s mother in Logan, so there was a very close friendship with the Ballards. In 1913, Clara Sloan Smith (daughter) went to Portland with her father to spend the winter. She had three children with her - Hugh, Sloan, and Ellen. When they arrived, Maggie was not well. She had been having hemorrhages of the nose. The doctor had been there several times and he would get the bleeding stopped, and then in a while it would start again. She lost a lot of blood and was very weak. Maggie said to her father, who was there at the time, “Father, get me the cayenne pepper.” She put some on a piece of cotton and plugged her nose with it. They had al- ready called the doctor to come again and he arrived with a specialist. The bleeding had stopped, but she was still in bed. The doctor said, “Mother Sloan, what in the world did you do? I would like to know as we can’t figure it out how a hemorrhage like you have had would stop.” She whispered her secret to him and he laughed and said, “I’ll keep your secret.” The book on herbs had taught her that cayenne pepper would stop bleeding and coagulate the blood. Maggie often used it for things like that. The doctors told her it had saved her life as she would have had a stroke with the type of hemorrhage she had. Hugh worked for the Portland Cement Company and did a great deal of traveling, and he and Maggie would go back to Canada during the summer months and then return to Portland for the winter months. In about 1914, Hugh and Maggie went to Salt Lake City to live and her father, John Reid went with them. He went on to Manti and stayed with his daughters, Lucy and Agnes, until he passed away October 7, 1916. With their move to Salt Lake City for a couple of years, Maggie was able to visit her family in Manti occasionally. Then about 1916 they moved back to live on the ranch in Canada again. It was there that the tragedy of the family happened in September 1916. Lloyd (Maggie’s youngest son) and Kenneth (oldest son of her oldest son John) had helped on the ranch all summer and were elated that they were starting high school that fall. Before school started they went out to shoot prairie chickens. Lloyd, thinking it was a prairie chicken flying up, shot Kenneth, who died instantly. This was an awful accident and tragedy for the whole family, and after this Hugh and Maggie didn’t go back to Portland but stayed at the ranch with her father. They didn’t feel it was right to leave him alone at this time. In the year 1918 there was a bad flu epidemic and many people died from it. Many people from Kimball, Aetna, and Taylorsville came to get Maggie to help with those who had the flu and she was sometimes gone for weeks at a time. One time, after she had just returned from being away ten days and had not even taken her clothes off in that time, she had just gone to bed when a knock came at the door. A man wanted to know if Mrs. Sloan was there. Hugh told him she had just returned home and he was afraid she was coming down with the flu herself, as she was very tired. The man said he just had to have someone. His wife and children were down with the flu, and three or four of his hired men, and he was nearly down himself. Hugh said he didn’t think she should go, but Maggie heard the man and said, “Yes, I’ll go, but I should have some help if all those men are down.” He told her he had been promised help from Cardston. So in the middle of the night she got up and put her clothes back on and went to care for the Henry Cook family. They lived on the opposite side of the river, about two or three miles away. When her help came, it was a young boy twenty years old, Eldon Tanner, who later became a general authority and counselor in the First Presidency of the Church. She and Eldon took care of this family who were very sick - Mrs. Cook, two or three children, and three or four hired men. Eldon had already taken care of his own folks when they had the flu. Eldon and Maggie kept going from one bed to another caring for the sick. The bunkhouse was quite a distance from the house so Eldon would try to do everything Maggie told him to do for the men there. Hugh went back to work for the Cement Company while Maggie stayed in Cardston the winter of 1919 so that Lloyd could go to school. Then he came back home because of illness and wasn’t well again after that. They lived in Cardston for a while and went back and forth to the ranch. Soon after, Hugh became very sick. They returned to Portland in August, hoping a change in climate would do him good, but on October 28, 1920 he passed away. It was his request to be taken back to Cardston to be buried, to the country he loved so much. After the passing of her husband, Maggie lived in Portland with her daughters, Agnes and Ruth. Maggie was there at the time Ruth’s son Robert, was born, and about six weeks after, Ruth passed away. She had an operation but never rallied from it. Maggie stayed with her son-in-law Dick West, and the children. Her granddaughter Ellen, went to Portland and lived with her for a year and helped care for the children and to attend school. Dick contemplated marriage again, as he could see it was too much for Maggie to care for his three small children at her age. Maggie then went to California and lived with Agnes. She took the baby Robert with her until Dick was married. Ruth’s death was very hard on her, but her implicit faith in the Gospel carried her through. Maggie said at one time that when her children died and all about was mourning, she took consolation in the thought that she had those children for the eternities. She always felt more sorry for her sister Lucy than she did for herself, even though she had lost several children, because Lucy never had any family of her own. When Maggie’s son Lloyd, died in 1938, she was in California. He had been working on the Parker Dam when he contracted desert pneumonia and died. She was able to be with him for a couple of days before he passed away, and then went with the body back to Manti for burial. Maggie was very proud of her children and grandchildren. She would be so proud if she went to Church and the boys would be passing the sacrament, or performing in any way. When Maggie went back to Canada each summer she would say, “Well, I’ve come home to die this time.” So every time she made the trip the family would say, “Well, Mother, have you come back to die this time?” Then everyone would laugh and she would say, “Yes.” She wanted to be buried near her Hugh and did not want to have her body shipped home as had been the case with her husband. In the summer of 1944, her granddaughter, Ellen Smith Bunting, traveled with her to Canada as she wasn’t able to travel alone. All could see that she had really come back this time to die. She stayed for a time with her sons John and Russel, with a close friend, Emily Olsen, and then to Clara and Will Smith’s to stay. She had a good visit with all of them, and many friends. She went to the Temple a time or two. She always had a crochet hook in her hand and this was no exception, even at this time. She wanted to leave every grandchild a piece of her handiwork and had finished many, many pieces. She was working on a set of chair covers. Clara would say, “Mother, just put that down, you are so tired, don’t do it anymore.” Then Maggie would say, “Well, if I don’t get this done you won’t have a birthday present.” Clara’s birthday was October 14th and just the day before the 14th, she finished the chair set. Maggie was quite ill at times and had some very bad spells as she had enlargement of the liver. At first these spells came about a week apart, then closer and closer until they were coming about every three days. She seemed to be in a coma at times. Agnes and Will came to see her and she was happy to have them there. The doctor came to the house to see her as she was suffering a great deal, but there was nothing much he could do, only try to ease her pain. She was afraid to take drugs for fear she would become a drug addict. Everyone tried to tell her she wasn’t going to live long enough to be a drug addict, but she didn’t like to take the medication anyway. She didn’t want to go to the hospital either, so she was cared for at home. The family did all they could for her and had a nurse come to give her hypos when she was in a lot of pain. The Sunday before she became very ill, Bishop Glen Fisher and his wife came to see her. As she lay on the couch and talked to them she said, “You know, my husband doesn’t want me very bad. He told me before he left he was going to build me a nice home over there. Then he would come and get me. But I guess he has been a long time getting that house built because it has been twenty-five years and he has never come yet. I’m just getting real disgusted with him.” During the last six weeks of her life the veil seemed to be so thin for her. She talked about it just as if she was going into another room. She would spend hours talking about different members of the family and her old friends that were on the other side. She asked one day about the undertakers in Cardston and was told that the Hall boys had a funeral home. She said, “Well, what Halls are they?” It was explained they were Doug Hall’s boys and she said, “Oh, those are Katie’s boys.” She lay there a few minutes thinking, then started to smile and said, “Won’t Katie be happy when I see her over there and I tell her that her grandsons took care of me.” On Sunday morning, October 22, 1944, the family had prayer around her bed. She had asked several times when she was administered to, to tell the Lord she was ready to go, but this request had never been asked in her blessings. On this morning, however, her son Will, gave her a blessing and in his prayer he dedicated her to the Lord and said that the family was willing to release her. Some of the family left and went to Sunday School, so all was quiet at home. Margaret Violet Reid Sloan passed away at quarter to one in the afternoon. She was 87 years of age. Maggie had always prayed that she would never be a burden to her family. It was for only five days she had to have continuous care and she was no burden. STORIES AND REMEMBRANCES Clarice Sloan (wife of Donald Sloan, grandson) It was a joy to have Grandmother Sloan come to Portland. I was a bride when I first met her when I was helping Pearl, my mother-in-law, at the Mission Home. I remember her as a very striking-looking woman, her silver hair neatly combed with a bun pinned high on the back of her head. She had sharp classic features and beautiful teeth. These lovely features remained with her until her death in the twilight years. She was slender and quick and wiry of movement. Her hands were never still a moment. Her crochet hook went so fast, it was fascinating just to sit and watch her. She made dozens of afghans and pillows for her family and always was working on baby clothes for her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. The missionaries adored her and her sense of humor was priceless. I remember the one Sunday night at the Mission Home, she had been to Church twice that day and had been called on to pray both times, as well as at breakfast that morning. As we were in the kitchen, ready to go into the dining room for family prayers and supper, she laughingly said, “I hope I’m not called on to lead in prayer here…..I’m prayed out today.” We gathered all in a circle on our knees and Father Sloan (Will) said, “Mother, will you lead us in prayer?” I need not say she chuckled, but then gently said one of the most beautiful prayers I have ever heard. She loved and adored as a friend, little Sister Westergard. They were just like two young girls together. They loved to go to town to a movie and I remember one day taking them when they were both in their 70s, to the Paramount Theater, telling them I would pick them up after the show. I waited for hours, almost frantic, and was ready to have the police look for them, after calling their homes to see if they had arrived, when they came out of the theater, swinging their hands together, giggling like school girls out on a holiday. Their explanation to me: “It was such a good love story, we had to stay and see it twice.” Clell Sloan (grandson) When I was a young boy I left home at the age of 15. I traveled through British Columbia and across the Line at Kingsgate. I met up with a fellow by the name of Johnson from Calgary. We were trying to evade the Immigration Officers and Patrolmen. We usually traveled at night and slept in the day time. One morning we came to an old dilapidated barn and ranch buildings. There was a river flowing nearby so we decided to build a raft and try sailing down the river. We made this makeshift raft and started out. The lumber must have been rotten because we hit a whirlpool later on down the river and the raft was split in half, he on one side and I on the other. His part went over on a smooth part of the river and mine went in a whirlpool. As soon as my part of the raft hit the whirlpool I was sucked under. I don’t remember anything after I was sucked under until I woke up on a sand bar about a quarter of a mile down river from where I had gone under. My friend, however, had reached the other side of the river safely and was standing over on the bank waving his hand, trying to see if I was drowned or not. My clothes were wet and it seemed like I had been under water a long time, although I had not swallowed any water. Down at the other end of the sand bar was shallow water and I waded out in water about to my waist. Being a young boy, I never thought any more about it. Now, before I go on with my story any further I want to tell about my cousin Philip, who died about a month before this happened. He was the son of my Aunt Agnes in California. About a year and a half after this incident I was living with my aunt in California. My grandmother was there also. One night we were talking and she said, “Clell, one time I had a dream, about a year and a half ago as I remember, and I dreamt that you and another boy were sailing down a river on a raft and the raft was split in two and your half was sucked under the water. It seemed so real that it is just like sitting here talking to you. You were drowning and I saw Philip come down out of the Heavens as an angel, take you by the hand and lift you over on a sand bar in the middle of the river, and ascend back up into the Heavens again.” I think the Lord at that time was watching over me and that Philip actually came down as an angel and saved me. Ruth Smith Gifford (granddaughter) Grandmother taught her granddaughters how to crochet and knit. She would never let you sit and not have your hands busy. Her famous words were, “Idle hands are the devil’s workshop.” In Canada, Saturday night was hockey night and there was always a broadcast on the radio of the hockey game played by the Toronto Maple Leafs. In the fall or the spring, when the games were still on and Grandmother Sloan was still with us, she would sit right next to the radio and listen to the hockey game, always a crochet hook in hand. As the game got more and more exciting the faster would go her crochet hook. She loved to have her hair brushed. She would take her long white tresses down from the bun and these were brushed faithfully every day. She always said you would have beautiful hair if you brushed it 100 strokes every day. I recall many the night she would ask me to brush her hair and each stroke was counted until the 100 strokes were finished. We always had such a wonderful time when Grandmother came to our houses to stay during her visits in the summer. My brothers made a swing for me. It was made of haying ropes suspended from a huge log that rested on the branches of the two big trees in our front yard. Every day, usually in the evening when it was twilight, Grandmother would have a swing, and many times she would ask me to push her. On her trips between Canada and California, Grandmother was accompanied by a small foot locker trunk. In this she kept little mementos - a lock of Lloyd’s golden curly hair when just a baby, or booties from one of the children, etc. What excitement when one could peek in as the lid was raised. In this she kept her priceless gifts of crocheted items designated for each grand-child when they were married. Grandma’s trunk will never be forgotten. A. Keith Smith (grandson) When Grandmother Sloan returned to Canada in 1944 she said, as she had said for many years, that she had come home to die. This time she brought with her all of her earthly possessions which were in two trunks. These had been in California at Aunt Agnes’, and in Portland at Uncle Will’s, and when she arrived for the last time she had somehow gathered all her possessions together and put them into these trunks. During the months before her death, when any of the family would come, they were always taken aside and she would kneel before her open trunk and go through the items, looking for the one special article she wanted to give to that child or grand-child, each item labeled in her mind for that person. Some of the treasures the trunks contained were crocheting, embroidery and hand work. Many of these pieces were not finished and how sad she would be when she would want to give them away and see they needed to be washed and blocked, or even finished. She would get at it as if she only had a few minutes to live. She would not give anything away until she had made it as perfect in every respect as possible. I also remember the fun it was to go through the old trunks and see the old clothes and other things they contained. Donald C. Sloan (grandson) When I was a little boy I made a squawk box out of tin cans and string. I was extremely proud of my invention, but Grandmother Sloan was becoming a bit annoyed at hearing the whine from it. She suggested that Grandfather Sloan could improve on it immensely so I requested his help. Grandpa promptly oiled the string - the end of one noisy invention. My question: “Was Grandmother born with a crochet hook in her hand?” Bill Sloan (grandson) I remember when Grandmother was 80 she could stand and put her hands flat on the floor with her knees stiff. She did it ten times every morning. Ellen Smith Bunting (granddaughter) Our family was cursed, or maybe it was blessed - I could never decide which - with what we called “Grandma’s Oil.” Grandma got it from a Chinese Herb Doctor in Portland, Oregon. It came in a very small bottle and was bright gold in color. When Grandma was around, if we were sick with a bad cold or ailing, we were rubbed with a drop on our chest, a drop on our back, and then they were covered with cotton. In a few days it would form puss pockets and drain. It was said that those were the impurities coming out of us. About this time we had a real foul odor, but it would mean certain death if we took a bath or took the cotton off. Then it would start drying up and you would itch until you nearly went crazy. You could not scratch it or it would bleed, and it didn’t seem to take the itch away anyway. The last stage was the peeling. You could peel big pieces of skin off. We used to try and see how big a piece we could peel off without breaking it. Then, heavenly day, we could take a bath, such as our baths were in a round tin tub. With the earaches I had, I always had the oil put on my ears and it did stop the earache. Instead of having mustard plasters they used in those days for croup or bad chest colds, we had “Grandma’s Oil.” No poor unsuspecting cold germ would dare come in contact with that oil. Grandma sent us something to use with the oil. It was called a “Flipper.” It was about ten inches long and made of polished black wood. On the end were sharp pins that covered the end of it, a space about the size of a nickel. It was in two pieces and opened up about half way in the middle. A rubber band was inserted inside. The pins were placed against your bare hide and the top half pulled up and let flip. It would prick the skin with tiny holes, then the oil could penetrate the skin better. I don’t know whether it did or whether it didn’t, but it hurt and we didn’t like it. I don’t think my mother had much faith in it either, she was chicken to use it on us. She didn’t use it very often. When I was home in 1978, Hugh Nibley wrote to mother and wanted to know where he could get one of Grandma’s Flippers. She had one in her trunk, so I personally carried the Flipper from Canada to California and mailed it to Hugh. Grandma Sloan was usually cooking up or brewing some kind of herbs. The winter I lived with her in Portland she decided I needed something. She went down to the Herb Doctor and brought home some herbs and stewed them up. I was supposed to drink half a glass of it each morning. The first morning she stood and watched me. It was the most bitter and nastiest stuff I have ever tasted. From then on I beat Grandma to the kitchen and poured my half-glass of herbs down the sink. When she would come in I would pull a face and drink water and tell her how terrible it tasted. She would console me with the remark that it would do me good. She decided, after I finished the first batch, that I was so much better, she didn’t think I needed any more. I was glad that was over. I even think the sink was glad too. Richard Nibley (grandson) I remember a large number of the family going to the movies and Grandmother Sloan was the only one there without glasses. She was in her 80s at that time. She had most of her own teeth, while many of the younger members of the family were losing theirs. One afternoon she had two wisdom teeth pulled, went shopping, and then took the streetcar home, but first stopped and had a warm drink. She seldom walked - SHE RAN!!! (A hand-drawn Christmas card to Grandma Sloan) For a thousand years Old Santa, Spread pleasure by the Gob. But now he’s just a Piker since Grandma’s on the job. (A hand-drawn Birthday Card to Grandma Sloan) She never sits But what she knits A diaper or a doily. With fingers raw She says, “Aw Pshaw” To working late and oily. Perpetual motion Is the lotion, On age she wages war. She loves her kin, Keeps them from Sin, By praying they’ll be POOR! Hugh Nibley (grandson) (A letter to Grandma Sloan from his mission, 1928) Dear Grandma: How shall I begin? I really think of you every day - or night rather, but I have thought that intimacy could only be insolence. Would you like to have an honest confession - something confidential and scientifically true? If you must know, since I was 8 years old I have known that you are “perfect as God is perfect.” That’s something to prove, but I believe it (if you will only believe me) and wonder at it every day. A person motivated only by charity - selfish for the welfare of the miserable, animated but unaffected; all void of the “mother-type” insipidity, free (unlike any other woman I know) from the nature of the cat! Grandma Sloan is a great phenomena. My wonder remains wholesome - I have not preserved it with a grain of salt. Sit tight and beat me into action with your prayers. Hugh Clara Sloan Smith (daughter) At the time of my birth, mother was very sick and her life was despaired of. Both doctors in the town (Manti) had gone to Salt Lake to conference and there seemed to be nothing the women-folks could do. On Monday a Dr. St.John stopped in Manti. Father heard of him and went to the hotel and got him to attend mother. With his help, and the help of the Priesthood, she and I were saved. I remember my father being brought home one night on a stretcher. He worked at some mine and had his back hurt. We children all cried because we thought he was dead, he was so white. Also, I remember the night or early morning when we got the telegram about his brother and two of his brother’s sons being killed in the Butte explosion in 1895. While he and my brother John were in Butte, Montana, my baby brother, George Peacock, died. Ours was a good home. My earliest recollections were of Mother or Father reading stories to us as we sat around the fireplace in the evening. Mother taught us songs and Father played the mouth organ. All the boys could play the mouth organ as well as the tin whistle. We had our time to play and had our lessons to get. Then we had our work to do. I don’t think there was hardly a night that we didn’t have home evening. My father would lay in bed and read, and he read good books. He was a lover of the Book of Mormon and the Indians. He read lots of histories to us - the history of the Prophet and other histories - Queen Victoria and Abraham Lincoln and books of that type. He loved and read a lot of Dickens’ work, and also Mowbray. My earliest recollection of Christmas was in Manti, Utah. Mother’s brothers and sisters, and their families, were always at our home for Christmas. I don’t remember having turkey - it was always chicken and roast ham. Then on New Year’s, all of the families went to Aunt Jane and Uncle Will K. Reid’s home. I believe they always had roast goose for dinner. On the 4th of July we would go to Grandfather and Grandmother Reid’s home where the big dinner consisted of roast duck, green peas, and new potatoes. My father made Christmas for the children. When we came to Canada we didn’t have a tree the first year or two. We made paper chains and strung popcorn and cranberries and decorated the house. After the first two years we always had a lovely green Christmas tree. This was also true when we lived on the ranch at Kimball. I remember Mother baking pies, cakes, and cookies, and she made her own mince meat. Father would kill a beef and a pig about a week before Christ-mas. Then there would be a dozen chickens killed and prepared. Someone who did not have as much as we had always was invited to dinner. There were baskets of meat, pies, and often a chicken, and goodies for the families who did not have much. Father could never see children go without at Christmastime. Many a child received new shoes from Santa because father and mother loved to give. I have seen father drive all over the Kimball and Taylorsville districts in Canada delivering things two or three days before Christmas so that no child would be missed. Phyllis Sloan Allen (granddaughter - as told to Barbara N. Richards in 1982) So much of what I think of Grandpa is more of a feeling and I can “see” him very clearly. He was six feet tall, which was a tall man in those days, but in his family he was always considered “little Hugh” because his sisters were taller than he. And he was the only one who joined the Church. He had a grey mustache and nice grey/blue eyes. There was always a twinkle. And I always think about his great love and adoration for Grandma. We’ve always said in my family that both of my grandfathers just adored my grandmothers. Two of the most beautiful love affairs that I’ve ever known. I can see Grandpa come to the door - sometimes he’d get to the door and he’d start singing, “I wander today to the hills, Maggie,” because her name was Margaret and he used to say that any-thing she did was right. She couldn’t do anything wrong. Couldn’t anymore find anything about her to criticize than anything in the world. And she was, I mean, we get this strong drive from our grandmother, not our grandfather. He was the gentle, kind, sweet person that we all just adored. He would say, “No matter how little we have, we get along fine because of Maggie. You give her a greasy dishrag and a frying pan and she could fix a good meal.” Grandpa worked in the mines in Park City. I don’t know just what he did but I know it had to do with mining. And that’s the reason they went to Canada, because they decided that it was no life for a family of boys. So they went to Canada and homesteaded out on the farm by the river. My father John, was 15, oldest of the family. He was Grandpa’s right-hand man. The first experience I had with a corpse was Grandpa Sloan. His body lay in our parlor - you know how they used to do it. I remember standing on tiptoe to see him. It was a very sad ex-perience because I loved him very much. We all did. He was a dear, dear man. We were a little afraid of Grandma but I became quite close to her. She taught me to crochet. I remember sitting by her knee. She was very concerned with family and that we all do the right thing. All my life I grew up knowing that I had a great-grandfather [John Patrick Reid] who was some-times ornery. Nobody could live with him except Grandma Sloan. She could manage him so he lived with her for years in Manti. [Others in the family remember him kindly and that he planted gardens and played with the children. Barbara was told by her oldest brother, Sloan, that when our family lived in Portland, he was only five years old and Great Grandfather Reid was there. A cow got loose and they were chasing it. Sloan said, “Here I was, five years old, young and full of energy but couldn’t catch that cow. But Great Grandfather Reid was 99 - 99, and he caught the cow.”] We were always very proud of Grandma Sloan. She was a pretty woman and she could walk us all to death. And she exercised at night. I remember seeing her exercise, and I thought she was too old to be exercising. She kept in shape that way. Every spring you had to clean your system out, so Grandma made us these gallons - the most vile looking stuff you have ever seen - it was sort of a greenish……well, just vile! I don’t know what she put in it but we had to take it every morning to “clean our systems out” in the spring. That’s what you did. So we had Grandma’s tonic. Another thing she used to make. One time my mother went away and Grandma Sloan stayed with us and she made us barley soup ‘til the thought of barley today just absolutely makes me sick. Barley soup and baked biscuits. She had things that everybody should use. Of course, she was a nurse. She wasn’t an R.N. but in her younger years she had a lot of training. She was a trained nurse, of sorts, so she spoke with authority. But that tonic - oh, that was nasty! But we took it, no matter what. Nobody questioned. If Grandma said that was the thing to do, that’s what we’d do. That’s Grandma!

Life timeline of Hugh Winder Nibley

Hugh Winder Nibley was born on 27 Mar 1910
Hugh Winder Nibley was 18 years old when Walt Disney character Mickey Mouse premieres in his first cartoon, "Plane Crazy". Walter Elias Disney was an American entrepreneur, animator, voice actor and film producer. A pioneer of the American animation industry, he introduced several developments in the production of cartoons. As a film producer, Disney holds the record for most Academy Awards earned by an individual, having won 22 Oscars from 59 nominations. He was presented with two Golden Globe Special Achievement Awards and an Emmy Award, among other honors. Several of his films are included in the National Film Registry by the Library of Congress.
Hugh Winder Nibley was 29 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.
Hugh Winder Nibley was 35 years old when World War II: Hiroshima, Japan is devastated when the atomic bomb "Little Boy" is dropped by the United States B-29 Enola Gay. Around 70,000 people are killed instantly, and some tens of thousands die in subsequent years from burns and radiation poisoning. 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.
Hugh Winder Nibley was 43 years old when Jonas Salk announced the successful test of his polio vaccine on a small group of adults and children (vaccination pictured). Jonas Edward Salk was an American medical researcher and virologist. He discovered and developed one of the first successful polio vaccines. Born in New York City, he attended New York University School of Medicine, later choosing to do medical research instead of becoming a practicing physician. In 1939, after earning his medical degree, Salk began an internship as a physician scientist at Mount Sinai Hospital. Two years later he was granted a fellowship at the University of Michigan, where he would study flu viruses with his mentor Thomas Francis, Jr.
Hugh Winder Nibley was 54 years old when John F. Kennedy was assassinated by Lee Harvey Oswald in Dallas, Texas; hours later, Lyndon B. Johnson was sworn in aboard Air Force One as the 36th President of the United States. John Fitzgerald Kennedy, commonly referred to by his initials JFK, was an American politician who served as the 35th President of the United States from January 1961 until his assassination in November 1963. He served at the height of the Cold War, and the majority of his presidency dealt with managing relations with the Soviet Union. As a member of the Democratic Party, Kennedy represented the state of Massachusetts in the United States House of Representatives and the U.S. Senate prior to becoming president.
1977
Hugh Winder Nibley was 67 years old when Star Wars is released in theaters. Star Wars is a 1977 American epic space opera film written and directed by George Lucas. It is the first film in the original Star Wars trilogy and the beginning of the Star Wars franchise. Starring Mark Hamill, Harrison Ford, Carrie Fisher, Peter Cushing, Alec Guinness, David Prowse, James Earl Jones, Anthony Daniels, Kenny Baker, and Peter Mayhew, the film focuses on the Rebel Alliance, led by Princess Leia (Fisher), and its attempt to destroy the Galactic Empire's space station, the Death Star.
Hugh Winder Nibley was 80 years old when Cold War: Fall of the Berlin Wall: East Germany opens checkpoints in the Berlin Wall, allowing its citizens to travel to West Berlin. The Berlin Wall was a guarded concrete barrier that physically and ideologically divided Berlin from 1961 to 1989. Constructed by the German Democratic Republic, starting on 13 August 1961, the Wall cut off West Berlin from virtually all of surrounding East Germany and East Berlin until government officials opened it in November 1989. Its demolition officially began on 13 June 1990 and finished in 1992. The barrier included guard towers placed along large concrete walls, accompanied by a wide area that contained anti-vehicle trenches, "fakir beds" and other defenses. The Eastern Bloc portrayed the Wall as protecting its population from fascist elements conspiring to prevent the "will of the people" in building a socialist state in East Germany.
1999
Hugh Winder Nibley was 89 years old when Columbine High School massacre: Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold killed 13 people and injured 24 others before committing suicide at Columbine High School in Columbine, Colorado. The Columbine High School massacre was a school shooting that occurred on April 20, 1999, at Columbine High School in Columbine, an unincorporated area of Jefferson County, Colorado, United States, in the Denver metropolitan area. In addition to the shootings, the complex and highly planned attack involved a fire bomb to divert firefighters, propane tanks converted to bombs placed in the cafeteria, 99 explosive devices, and car bombs. The perpetrators, senior students Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold, murdered 12 students and one teacher. They injured 21 additional people, and three more were injured while attempting to escape the school. The pair subsequently committed suicide.
Hugh Winder Nibley died on 24 Feb 2005 at the age of 94
BillionGraves.com
Grave record for Hugh Winder Nibley (27 Mar 1910 - 24 Feb 2005), BillionGraves Record 30825343 Provo, Utah, Utah, United States

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