Contributor: Will Created: 1 year ago Updated: 1 year ago
MOTHER’S HISTORYBYOLIVE SUMNER FACKRELL NORWOODMy father, David Bancroft Fackrell, was born in Grafton, Vermont, on April 16, 1820, the eldest child of James Fackrell and Amy Crumb. He lived with his parents until he was fifteen years old, then left home to get work. He went to New Orleans and worked there at any job he could get. He stayed there for some time, then went to St Louis where he got in with some trappers. That winter when they were trapping there came up a cold blizzard, and some Indian women found my father nearly frozen to death. They treated him very kindly, taking him to their camp. They doctored him with herbs, etc. His feet were very badly frozen and he could not get around much the rest of the winter.He lived with the Indians ten months and never saw a white person. He never ate any bread, and had no salt for weeks. They lived on meat, herbs, roots, wild berries, and wild honey.After leaving the Indians he made his way up to Des Moines, Iowa, to get work. While there he met a beautiful young lady named Ellen Carroll. They fell in love and were to be married, but she took sick and died. He felt very badly about her death and went off to get work, thinking he would feel better or that it would take his mind from the sad parting from his sweetheart.He later went back to St Louis in the spring. In 1850, during the gold rush, he started in company with others to California. Arriving in Salt Lake City, they stopped at the old tithing office lots where the Hotel Utah now stands. The manager of the office asked him if he was any relation to the Fackrells in Bountiful. He (David) replied that all his folks were in Vermont. But he decided to go to Bountiful to see who the Fackrells were there. To his surprise he found his father, mother, two brothers and a sister. What a happy meeting - for sixteen years father had not heard from any of his people. They had joined the Mormons, coming to Utah in 1848.Father went back and told his companions that he had decided to stay with his family. The company then went on and were all killed by Indians in Nevada. Father felt that his life had been spared through divine providence.Susannah Sumner, a little English girl nearly fifteen years of age, was living at the home of his parents. They very soon fell in love and were married July 6, 1851. My mother's father, John Sumner, was born January 25, 1810, in Exton,Lancashire, England. Her mother, Sarah Bromley (Brimley), was born January 26, 1811, in Exton, Lancashire, England. They were married in Leyland, Lancashire, England 5 March 1832. They had 3 children; the first two were boys and they died. My mother, Susannah, was born October 29, 1836, in Preston, Lancashire, England. Her father died an accidental death June 13, 1837, at age 27 years. My grandmother went back to her people. (Through this we have lost track of my grandfather's people.)My grandmother, with her baby, came to St Louis. There she met a widower, John Parker, who had three little girls. He and grandmother were married. They heard the gospel, joined the church, and began to save money to come to Utah. (He was working in a cabinet shop.)When mother was 12 years old, the cholera broke out in St Louis. It proved to be a great scourge to the people for many died with the disease. Grandmother was very frightened of the disease and thought that if she took it she would surely die. One day her husband came home sick - he had the dreaded disease. She worked over him faithfully, then she took the disease and died before he did. The children did not take it. Grandmother had used every precaution to avoid their getting it. She bathed them every day, kept them very clean, and fed them the right foods, avoiding all meat, tea and coffee. This no doubt worked a great part in avoiding the cholera.Grandmother had four children by this marriage, three dying in infancy. This left my mother and her little half brother, Mormon, who was six years younger than mother, the only ones of my mother's own family. The three Parker girls, who were older than mother, lived with other people. Mother and Mormon were separated, she being put with a family to do chores for them. He was 8 years old. One of his chores was a very difficult one for a little boy so very young. He was required to water a large stallion. Of course they cautioned little Mormon to be very careful not to get hurt and not to let the horse get away. He tied the rope around his body, thinking that to be a good plan. One day he passed a lady's home as she was hanging out clothes. She shook a sheet, the horse became frightened and dragged the little boy to death. Mother had not been able to see her little brother very often because they were some miles apart, a separation she felt very keenly. She felt very badly about her little brother's death. She was now left entirely alone.About two years after grandmother's death, some people by the name of Burch heard of my mother, a Mormon girl, living there. As they were coming to Utah, they went to see her and asked her to come west with them. This she did, and worked for them. She walked all the way driving an ox team, most of the time yoking her own oxen. Mrs. Burch was very kind to mother, but her husband was not. Mr. and Mrs. Burch did not get along very well. One morning as mother was very busy finishing up the work in camp, Mr. Burch called to her to come and help him yoke up the cattle. Mrs. Burch did not like the idea of him ordering her like that and said to her, "Stay where you are." (Mrs. Burch was an invalid who rode in a carriage. He also rode in the carriage.) While mother was stooping to wash something, he came up behind her and kicked her, knocking her over. Of course this unkind and mean treatment grieved Mrs. Burch. The Captain, who was on his horse ready to start, saw the act, rode up and collared him and used him pretty rough. They no doubt ordered him to leave the company - anyway he took his buggy and horses and came on to the valley. Mrs. Burch stayed with the company, no doubt riding in mother's wagon.Well, Mr. Burch, after their arrival; so very generously proposed to my mother, wanting her to become his second wife. Of course she most wholehearted refused his marriage proposal. She then left them and went to work for a family who were on their way to California and who had stopped at Bountiful to rest up. These people wanted her to go with them and she at first thought she would for they were kind to her. My grandfather and grandmother (Fackrell’s) heard that a Mormon girl was going with these people, so they went to her and asked her to come and live with them. They said that they would treat her as their very own. (She accepted.) This was the second time things were overruled for her, so she did not leave the church. This was a trying time for one so young to choose just what to do for the best. How lucky that she came to live at the home of people who treated her so kindly. And it was here that she met father.My grandfather came to Utah in 1848; father later in about 1850. Later all settled close together after they built the railroad station crossing at Mr. Wood's land, they called it Wood's Cross.Father's two brothers, Joseph and James, came with their father. Grandfather and sons all farmed, they each had eighty acres. That land is now very valuable. Grandfather was 83 years old when he died, and grandmother was 86. They died in Wood's Cross. Joseph and James and their wives also died there.After their marriage in Bountiful, father and mother took up 160 acres of land there. He built a log house with a dirt roof and floor. He built a bunk in one corner and their chairs were made of sawed-off logs. Their cooking utensils were a bake oven and skillet, and they had two tin cups, two tin plates, and grandmother gave them two knives, forks and spoons. They did not have a stove but cooked over a fireplace. (Well, I'm sure they were very proud of this very first furniture, etc., for it was their very own.)They soon began to prosper. They got a few cows and sheep which they kept on the farm. My mother helped take care of them. The wool from the sheep was corded into rolls which she wove into cloth for our clothes. She also wove for other people.There were 15 children born to this union. One day while my mother was very busy, she did not notice the baby had gone out. (He was a beautiful little boy, about 16 months old.) When she noticed he was gone, she at once thought of the spring where they got their water and sent my sister, Laura, to look for him there. He was in the spring and sister Laura got him out (but he was already dead). Well, mother's sorrow was awful for she blamed herself a lot. The thought that through reading (she was always a great reader) she may have neglected him. This so affected her that she never read any more novels, nor drank any more tea or coffee, but always tried to live as near right as she could. They told this later for the good it might do others.When my little brother, Rudolph, was about two and a half years old, he was playing around in our house and fell into a tub of hot water. He lived only a few days. His death was due partly to shock.When my sister, Bertha, was eight months old she got sore eyes. (My father at this time had always sent for a doctor if anything went wrong or his family got sick.) They got several doctors for Bertha. The doctors put acid on her eyes. It was too strong and broke her eyes so that the liquid all ran out. She was stone blind all her life. Father would never have a doctor again.David died from a fall, striking his head against a bake oven. He died of brain fever. Sarah Jane died of smallpox. Amon [Ammon] also died in Wood's Cross when only a baby.Mother was always ready to help anyone in trouble or distress, doing good at all times, relieving the sick of aches and pains wherever she could. She was always ready to do anything required of her. She was a great worker among children.Father was a very heavy user of tobacco. One night he had a dream in which he thought a person from the spirit world came to him and took his stomach and held it up before him. He seemed to know that he was being shown the injury the tobacco was doing to him. He said his stomach was full of holes and was an awful looking sight. He never used any more tobacco and they had their endowments, having had two children at that time.The Indians were quite mean in the early days of Utah. The women were afraid to be alone as they used to frighten them, especially if they knew they were alone. My folks lived about a half mile from any neighbors. One day father had to go to the canyon for wood. While mother was alone an Indian came and wanted bread. She did not have any baked but gave him some dough. He insisted on baking it and using what wood mother had. When she stopped him, he drew a long knife on her. She screamed to a boy who was passing, and the Indian ran. The boy was large, but as afraid of the Indians that he'd have run the other way if he'd heard her.Father also married another English girl, Hannah Proctor. They were married October 15, 1862, in the Endowment House in Salt Lake City. They had six sons.In 1868, President Brigham Young called father to go and help settle the Muddy. He did not sell our home, but took Aunt Hannah (his second wife), her two little sons, our oldest brother, Joe, and went to prepare a home for us. When they got to Payson, Herman, the baby, took sick and died, and he was buried there. They then went on to Overton, Nevada. In 1870, father went back to Bountiful after mother and her family. They arrived in St George on January 2, [1871?]. There they found that the Muddy Mission has broken up in Nevada instead of Utah as they first thought. They, the State of Nevada, were taxing them so heavily that they were released by Brigham Young to go back to their homes or to settle elsewhere. Most of the people went to Long Valley in Kane County. Father went to Overton and got his family, then settled at Mt. Carmel where they lived for two and one-half years. I was born there March 29, 1873. My brother, Karl, was also born there.THE UNITED ORDERWell, most of the "Muddy" people joined The United Order except the old settlers who had been driven out by the Indians and had come back. They did not care to join. The ones who did join moved outside to a piece of farming land which they called the "Cave." (I was 6 months old when my parents joined the United Order.) Here, two and a half miles east of Carmel, they built a town and named it Orderville. They built quite a large hall with a kitchen and bakery at one end. As fast as the people could move up, they turned in their property and got credit on the books for it.The Order was organized with a board of directors of 12 men, with the Bishop at the head of the board. They advertised for educators, mechanics, and such tradesmen as they lacked to make themselves self-supporting. The men were all supposed to work at the job for which they were best fitted. The younger married women, and others who were strong enough, took turns working in the kitchen in sets of six. There was a man there to oversee things and do the heavy work, and he also had a boy there to help him with the chores. The girls, in sets of six, did the dining room work. The boys were busy at different jobs. There were plenty to help so that it did not work a hardship on anyone. The young folks also had a lot of fun doing dishes, etc. Brother Claridge (Sister Elizabeth McCune's father), did the baking in the big oven. Everyone ate at the big tables in the hall.Mother was one of the ladies chosen to oversee a lot of the work. She and Lil Brown directed pickle making, butter churning, and other tasks. Of course, I was too small yet to help, but kept quite busy following my mother around.Mother was chosen to go up to Castle Dale to help oversee the dairy for a while during two or three different summers. They also made cheese and butter. She had plenty of boys and girls to help her. Four or five boys and six or eight girls went to help. The work was done systematically, and it worked out so each knew just what to do. Father hauled milk part time; he worked mostly in town.Father made the soap, with my brother Norman helping him. He also ran the store. Some of the men were over the cattle and sheep. The corrals were outside of town. Aunt Eliza's father, Brother Sorenson, 1 or 2 men, and Brother Kingsbury were caretakers to see to this.They raised lots of sugar cane and made molasses which they used for preserving. They raised delicious peaches and put up barrels and barrels of delicious peach preserves. Lydia Young made straw hats and had her helpers. Eliza, my brother Fernando's wife, helped. They were certainly self-supporting and made most everything they used, with even our own tannery and shoe shop. They also made buttons out of bone and wood and colored them.No one had to work if they were not able. Each was credited on the books for what he did. If anyone was ill and could not do his own work, someone else would do it and be given credit, an equal amount be charged to the person being replaced. All were charged with what they drew in the way of meals, clothes, and other items. Those who were unable to work drew what they needed just as the others did. The ward was organized just as those in other towns. They had some very enjoyable times.We had many visits from our leaders, who gave counsel and much encouragement. The Word of Wisdom was kept as nearly as possible. No tobacco was used and very little tea. No tea or coffee ever came to the big table. I must have been 12 years old before I ever saw anyone smoke. Such a spirit of love and unity. It seemed like one large family, all seemed like brothers and sisters.Brother Thomas Robertson would pay a tune on his bugle calling us to meals. When he played the bugle for breakfast or for everybody to get ready to eat sometimes they'd sing and maybe have a short speech. "Do What is Right" was the tune he played calling us to prayers. There was also a tune calling us to meetings.A man called "Pa Carling" made little tubs and boards, churns and chairs. He had a turning lathe for making them. He also made wooden dolls which he painted. He made marbles from plaster-of-paris, and painted them different colors. The kiddies were very proud of the toys. I remember them well. He started very early, long before Christmas, so as to have them all ready.Father went to Salt Lake a lot for provisions, groceries and other supplies for the store. Once when he went to Bountiful he brought a little clock, just like a real clock, with painted hands and pendulum. Once when I was about 7 years old, he got me a wax doll for Christmas - it was a lovely doll. Everyone had to see my wonderful baby and at last it was broken. But I had a lot of fun with it before it was broken.I went often to Salt Lake City with my folks in the wagon. It was a long trip - took two weeks to go and two to return.Aunt Eliza was 2 years older and now she helped some. The girls all learned to knit. Mother helped to weave the cloth on the looms. I twisted some yarn for knitting. The girls all did, and just as soon as we were old enough we all learned to knit. We'd take our knitting to school and knit while we learned our lessons.The houses were built in a sort of a fort in rows. The long dining room was built inside the fort. We'd play out on the grounds in the fort at night and had oceans of fun. It was all lighted up around the fort with coal oil lights. The larger children had their place to play, as did the smaller ones. We'd play "steal sticks," "run sheep run," and other games. The windows all faced inside the fort, so everyone knew right where their children were.They had ash pits built where everyone could empty their ashes. They were rocked up and (were) about one foot wide on the top. Sometime the children would play on top of the wide sides. We were told repeatedly to keep off and warned of the danger. Then one day, Zillia McCounsel, who was about 6 years old, was playing on top of one of these ash pits and fell in it. She was badly burned by live coals in the pit and died from the effects of the burns. This was awful; she was so carefree and happy; sad to meet such an accident.I was blessed when eight days old by my father. Thomas Robertson baptized me when I was eight years old in the Virgin River. My sister, Laura, was married in Orderville to Bro. Thomas Chamberlain when I was 8 months old. I started to Primary when it was organized. When Sr. Eliza R. Snow and Zina D. Young came to Orderville to organize the Primary, they called a meeting of the chosen officers to meet in the "Big House" where lived our Bishop, along with Hoyts, Spencers, and Chamberlains. I went with mother to the meeting. In this meeting, Sr. Eliza R. Snow, Joseph Smith's wife, showed us the Prophet Joseph's watch. She let me hold it so I could say "I held the Prophet's watch." Both women talked at the meeting before they organized the Primary. We had three Primaries. Mother, Sr. Louise Spencer, and Lydia Young were the presidents.I can recall the names of my first school teachers. They were: Lydia Young, Willard Carroll, and Edward Webb. Mother and Hannah Hoyt taught at the same place.For over nine years the Order was run very perfectly not long after this they got to eating at home. They still were credited for their work and drew what they needed.On May Day, they'd choose their May Queen. We'd get up early and have a lot of fun braiding the May pole. We'd go for May walks. About one mile out of town we'd gather wild lavender sweet peas by the armload the day before (May Day) and keep them fresh in water.My brother, Gideon, about sixteen years old, was out with the sheep, along with Joe and Cyrene, two other brothers of mine. At one time when Mother and I were to Grandmother's, Gideon became very ill (we think it must have been appendicitis). They started home with him but he was so ill that he died on the road. Mother was unable to get home for the funeral.In October before I was sixteen I made the big mistake of my life when I married a childhood friend, Walter Porter (a nephew of Richard's). We went to the Manti Temple, accompanied by both of our mothers. We went by wagon, and the trip took over five days. We lived in Orderville until the next October, when we moved to Mexico by wagon. We were two months on the road. About twenty wagons went together; Nagle's, Green's, Chris Heaton (going to marry Mary Porter's sister, Ellen). (He had three wagons.) Nagle's drove cattle and horses and had several wagons. We had a lot of fun. One evening after supper was over, the men took the horses to water (necessitating a ride of several miles into the desert as we were on the Arizona desert). One bright moonlight night, four of us girls started out to meet them as I was afraid to go to bed alone. We started off and once in a while would give a yell to see if they were coming. Suddenly a call or yell came back to us and we thought they were coming. As we drew closer we began to look around. We saw some sort of a big animal calling back to us. He was far in the distance but to us it seemed very close. We could see him very plain in the bright moonlight. Maybe he was as frightened as we were, but we immediately retraced our steps to camp. Later, the men came home from a different direction.We went to Mexico in October and I stayed sixteen months. Walter built a one room log house. He worked off, and I was left alone a lot. Porters and Heatons lived just a couple of blocks away and that helped a lot for I was so young and not used to being alone. We were in a pretty little valley, surrounded by pines. We cleared away the pine trees for a building spot, and got pine logs there for the house. (We always had an open house for the young folks to come, and have a good time at my parent's home, even after I was married.) We never had any children.I finally decided to go home to my folks. Walter gave me $25 for my trip. I took the train at Deming, New Mexico. My ticket took me to Ogden. I stayed to Aunt Martha's three months, from February to May. I returned home in May.At this time Richard was out shearing sheep. About two weeks after I came home he came back to Orderville. In a couple of hours, as soon as he had time to clean up and get ready, he was over sitting on our front porch. He seemed so thrilled to see me back. Of course, we were just good friends. Not long after, though a romance started. I got a divorce from Walter in August, and Dick and I were married December 1, 1893, in the St. George Temple. We had two rooms in the Big House; father bought it after the Order broke up.Here I must say that the Order was run here the most successful and ideal of any place. [probably inserted by Aunt Hattie Fackrell.]We were all so united and congenial. For over nine years it seemed almost like one big happy family. That feeling of affection drew all so close together that when we meet now after so many years we feel like we are meeting brothers and sisters.Trene's mother, Aunt Hannah, also lived there. They run a store, in which Aunt Hannah [Hannah Proctor Fackrell] worked a lot. She had five sons. One day she took a stroke. Mother, who was a nurse, cared for her but she died in 1897. After her death, my mother moved there and was living there when I came from Mexico. No use to say how thrilled I was to be home with my folks again.Dick was a carpenter; he also built barns and sheared sheep spring and fall near Orderville, at Moccasin, Duck Lake, Duck Creek, Want's Creek, and Harris' Claim. Our (first) baby, Earl, was born December 19, 1894, in the Big House. We were so very happy over his arrival but he lived only eleven months, then took typhoid fever. Before he died, Dick had built a three room house. Our second little son, Ray, was born here March 29, 1896. His coming partly soothed the sting of parting with Earl.Fernando, Parley, and families moved to Idaho in 1896. Dick and my brother, Karl, came in about 1897. Charley was born December 27, 1897, in Orderville while Richard was in Idaho. Richard got back home when Charley was three weeks old.About this time, Dick's father died very suddenly from some sort of a hemorrhage.In May 1898, we moved to the place in Idaho where the others had. Fernando and Parley were really going to Basalt, where some other Orderville people were. They met Robert Parsons, Aunt Hettie's father, who was going to Pocatello. He told them of a piece of land which Parl's afterwards got. So we all landed in Riverside and vicinity, about four and a half or five miles west of Blackfoot. When we arrived in Blackfoot we met up with one of Idaho's best winds. We were quite disgusted and I felt like going right back home.Richard had stayed behind to shear sheep and to sell our Orderville home. He later drove his team to Idaho; it took three weeks to make the trip. We (father, mother, Bertha, Christine, Trene, myself and the babies) came on the train.I brought a wooden paint bucket containing a gorgeous peony which we wanted to keep. It was a gorgeous pink, gradually fading to delicate cream. It finally met its fate here when somebody's cow ruined it.Cyrene (“Ene”) brought us to Marysvale, driving our team. We tied the treasured flower to the wagon gently swaying to and fro as the wagon jolted. It stood the trip very well.Ene took a load of freight back to Orderville from Marysvale. We met my sister, Mary, at Marysvale. We visited for three days there and rested up.They started at once to build the red brick house where Bertha and I now live. It surely added a lot to the appearance of Riverside, the very best house around. They moved in about the last of July. It has four nice rooms and a fireplace, which we did not use very much as it did not draw very well.Richard and I bought a forty acre place (where Owen Peterson now lives). It was on the north side of the main road going to Blackfoot, about four-and-a-fourth miles from Blackfoot. We planted a nice big orchard and lived there a few years. Then we bought a forty acre place just north of town from Mr. Erickson. Our first daughter, Jennie, was born November 22, 1899, on this first place.Richard built our frame house (of four nice rooms). We moved into it December 1st. Our next baby, Clarence, was born October 16, 1901, only living about six days. When mother was 7 months pregnant she and her mother and (I guess the children) were in a buggy on the way to Blackfoot. As they were crossing the Snake River bridge, some railroad men were working with a train engine nearby on the R. R. bridge. To be funny when they saw this old horse plodding along, they blew the whistle on the engine. The horse jumped in fright and the buggy went over the embankment, on the edge of the bridge. Mother had a broken collar bone, and as a result of the accident, the baby was born prematurely, only living a few days. Bessie was born March 29, 1903 (on my birthday). Ferl was also born here on June 3, 1905; my sister, Mary, was with me.Mother died in February, 1905. Her death was a great shock to me. I felt so alone as we were always so very near to each other. She always took a great interest in her family, and was an inspiration to us all - taking great interest in Sunday school and Primary work and in all church activities. She went out a lot as a nurse, always anxious to relieve the sick, and ever ready to help those in need or distress. She taught school for many years after her children were larger and she could leave.Another few words about my father. He was a very fine speller - he just could not be "downed" on it. He was also an authority (we all thought) on the pronunciation and meaning of words. If anyone wanted to know how to pronounce a word, or what was the meaning of a word, they could ask him for he always knew. He was well read. He had very little opportunity for schooling, attending school only six weeks, but really gained his education through experience and reading. He got his second eyesight, and could read the very fine print of the Deseret News without glasses just prior to his death.In January 1906, Richard was called on a mission. He labored in North and South Carolina. To support him it was necessary to sell twenty acres of our land. He left January 10, 1906, and returned May 1, 1907. Of course it was quite an undertaking for me, but we never regretted that we put forth the effort. He thoroughly enjoyed the spirit of his calling. At nights, if it looked doubtful about a place to stay, he would say, "Wait until my wife and children have prayers at home; we'll have a place to stay." He never had to sleep out at nights. We had some hard times but always felt so thankful for his wonderful privilege. We regretted his not putting in two years, but the mission president thought it best for him to return to his family. He had already done much good and accomplished much in the sixteen months he was gone, and, as there was no set time, the mission president gave him an honorable release. We were all very proud of the wonderful work he had done, and very happy to be together again. In fact, my folks and everyone thought I had also done a wonderful good, through my efforts to attend to our family and our financial business, and for him to stay to do so much good in taking the gospel to so many people.Detta was born February 8, 1908 in our same home. Ronald was born April 12, 1910. He weighed fourteen pounds and looked like he was a month or two old. My sister, Laura, (also a nurse) was with me as she had been when Detta was born. We got along fine and were so happy when each was born. I always had a lot of faith, and so many times we received wonderful testimonies by our loved ones and myself being healed through that faith.I used to arise very early on Sunday mornings, and put forth an extra effort to get all the kiddies ready for Sunday School. We sometimes had to walk a mile from home to the hall, but we always tried to attend as often as possible. Dick also thoroughly enjoyed that wonderful religious spirit, and we really did try to do our very best in setting that example for our family. It is my greatest desire (also Richard's) that our efforts for good will prove fruitful, at all times, that our family will never tire of reviewing this part of our lives, and do their best.We moved to Lost River when Detta was one year old. Richard thought we could better our condition where there was more land. We worked for Myrups one year and lived in a house they built f-ur [?]. We moved back to Riverside the next winter. We returned to Lost River in the spring and moved on to our place. We worked quite hard and spent a very happy time there in Lost River. The kiddies were always at home and we surely enjoyed it. Later, we had a lot of fun going to the dances. Dick or I always went with our children while the other stayed home to attend to the smaller ones. Dick usually wanted me to go so as to be with the others at the dances. It was so far we'd take picnics. We sometimes stayed all night, eat our breakfast, and return home in time to get dinner.We moved back to Riverside in February 1910; Ronald was born there April 12, 1910. When he was three weeks old, we rented our Riverside property and went back to Lost River. When we moved out to stay, we sold our place to James Killian.The kiddies and all thoroughly enjoyed Lost River again. The boys and all did enjoy fishing; we'd get fine little mountain trout. One time when my brother Karl was visiting there, he went fishing with Ferl. Karl didn't seem to be having nearly as good luck as Ferl. "There, Uncle Karl, see there," Ferl consoled him (must have pulled out another mountain trout), "when you've fished as long as I have, maybe you can catch them too." What a thrill Karl got out of that little speech of Ferl's.A big drawback on the Lost River was the poor social and religious conditions. We were under the Northwestern States Mission. Missionaries from different places would come out there and baptize. Detta was baptized there.In about 1913 or 1914, my brother Trene's folks and Aunt Hetties' sister, Mattie Felsted, and family all came out in white-topped buggies to see us. (We weren't yet in our new house.) They camped out in our yard most of the time. They thought it an imposition for so many to eat in our house. Well, as we always made everyone welcome, we felt hurt and thought they ought to eat with us. But since they had gone out camping, we decided to excuse the act. All joined in the fun and had a wonderful time and marvelous visit. Aunt Bertha was with us. They thought the mountain trout the best ever.We had our tents on Spring Creek and were building our new house, but we had a most enjoyable time. We all went up to visit Tom and Christine, and family. They lived near us, which helped a lot because we saw each other often.In 1917, we sold our Lost River property and on November 1st moved to Huntington, Utah. We could make quite a bit of money in Lost River, but moved mostly to improve social conditions.We raised grain, potatoes, hay, etc, and pigs, chickens, etc. We thought there was about 150 bushels that first year. We chartered two railroad cars to move in, and it cost plenty. We had fifteen or twenty horses, machinery and household goods in one car; several cows, a lot of calves (30 to 35 head), and forty-three sheep in the other. We got along well here and most of our children were married here.Ray was to the World War I. He had several cousins there, including three of Fernando's sons. Hugh was killed at Belleau Wood or Argonne Forest. How very sad, he had just returned from a wonderful mission not long before. He had really felt that he would not return.We bought a big farm 1 mile out of Huntington (320 acres), and half a block on the townsite. The house was already there - a big brick one. The orchard was simply loaded with apples. As it was Sunday before we got to pick them, they were all frozen. We were all disappointed over our fine fruit freezing.Our place cost $9,500 there. We had it all paid for but about $2,000, and then decided to go to the coal mines in Mohrland, Utah. We were there three years, then the mine closed and we moved back to Huntington.We were making preparations to go to Mesa, Arizona, so Richard went to Arco to shear sheep in the spring of 1925. He was a good shearer and made good at it. While there he became very ill from some sort of stomach trouble. He was at the home of my nephew, Tom Chamberlain. They were very kind to him, doing all they could to help him. But all efforts were in vain. He died there June 3, 1925, Ferl's birthday. He was buried in the Arco cemetery. We all felt so dreadful and hardly knew what to do for the best. My family were so kind and thoughtful and played a big part in helping me bear my or our burden.I returned to Huntington and got rid of our stuff, cheap. Then I went back to Arco where Ray, Charley, Ferl, Ronald, and Jennie lived. I soon got a job from Will Fallert, out at Howe, cooking. I got $30 a month. He soon proposed a "life's job," so I decided to quit. I stayed in Arco three months. Then on February 26, I moved to Riverside where Bertha and I still are but we visited some. I went to Salt Lake City, and different places, visiting children. Bertha went to our sister, Laura's, in Provo.Later Bertha came home and was ill so she sent for me. We're still here in the red brick house. For thirteen years I carried water about a block, from our neighbor - Crawfords - who lived south of us, but now we have a fine well with pump and we surely enjoy it. We also have electricity and a good Coronado radio. We thoroughly enjoy all our electric appliances. We got our well, and also our electricity in 1939.Charley was killed February 18, 1927, while working in the Wilbert Coal Mine in Little Lost River. A miner working near him was also killed and was so badly mangled that his folks could not see his body. Charley was not hurt so, only his head. The undertaker mentioned several times that he could not understand why the one man was hurt so much more. Brother Parley Black pointed out that Charley's garments had seemed to protect him somewhat from disfiguration.At this time, Charley's wife, LaVerle, was in Huntington with her mother who was ill. She had their three children, but their oldest son, Grant, was with me in Riverside going to school. She had a baby born not long afterward but it did not live long.Ferl died at our Riverside brick house in 1931. He had rheumatism and heart trouble. He came here to stay with me because Ruby was teaching school at Leslie. She came later and was here when he died. It was a comfort to me to do for him; he appreciated every effort on our part to relieve his pain. Ruby and all felt dreadful, but she went back to Leslie to finish her school, which helped take her mind from her trouble. Bessie came for the funeral.We had a very fine vegetable garden east of our house in 1937 and '38. We had some gladiolas, and lovely zinnias in rich velvety reds and other colors. (Zinnia seed given to me by our Weedman neighbors.) Our purple canterbury bells (in bloom) pink four-o’clocks, and the "flower of romance" soon to bloom now (Aug. 9, 1939.)I raised some fine vegetables in 1938 (some cantaloupes) - enough for us and some to give away. But I clear balked on it in 1939. I'm just tending to putting up some fruit, doing housework, and doing some fancy work, especially embroidery. I've made twelve knitted rugs (knit round with crocheted edges) and have made a lot of very pretty quilt tops. So I've been quite busy.Ira (Jennie's husband) brought us some perennial snapdragons, which will soon all be blooming. We also have the burning bush in our front yard, climbing cucumber running up our south wall south of the door, and bouncing biddie in the back. Last, but not least, an adequate supply of tea vine monopolizing our front yard. Of course, no one plants it anymore for it spreads so. But, as Ira says, it's green, though it is sort of a pest.Eliza and I used to go to Moreland for Seminary class. We walked and enjoyed it. Prof. Gene Nelson was the teacher. We went till it got too cold. It is a wonderful and inspirational study, and a great help in after years.I must mention our outings. The ward goes to Lava Hot Springs, (a mineral spring) usually, once or twice a year, and we thoroughly enjoy ourselves.Trene's folks have been living here for more than two years and we visit often. The other day we went for a ride. We stopped at Louise's (my sister-in-law), at Norms - also in Thomas, and on a few miles to Heber's (Norm's son) where we found everyone gone for it was Sunday. We also stopped at Lillie Anderson's (Hettie's sister). We enjoyed our ride and had a very good time.Dave's folks (my sister Laura's son), Dave Chamberlain and family also live in Riverside. Trene's daughter, Norelle, and family live near us. Another nephew, Pwell Fackrell, also lives here running the Riverside garage. My brother, Fernando, and family now live in Blackfoot; they bought a home on South University. They used to live a few blocks south of us, for years and years before moving to Blackfoot.Bessie and Detta have both been here for a visit not so long ago. I feel (although lonesome at times) that I am greatly blessed in their being as near as they are.For future use I am now going to say where my family lives.Ray and family live in Boise. He is working in an ice plant.Jennie and family live in Blackfoot, where they are buying their home. They have quite a large house, a nice (small) garden, beautiful flowers and nice yards.Bessie and family live in Clawson, Utah. She is very busy in church activity and thoroughly enjoys it. Bessie and Andrew have seven children living and two dead. They have twin sons thirteen years old.Detta and family are in Salt Lake City. They have five children.Ronald and family live in Moreland, not far from me. He is busy farming. Although I do not see them very often, we do enjoy a visit once in a while.Charley’s wife married a fine fellow (one of Charley’s best childhood friends) Clint Young. They live in a little canyon called Mapleton on Route #1 near Springville, Utah. They have two children.Ferl’s wife also married again – Lynn Keel. They live in Grouse, Idaho.I now have thirty-five grandchildren, thirty-one living and I have two granddaughters married. (Aug. 1939.)I hear from the girls often. We have always been united. My sons’ wives have always been very kind and thoughtful of me, and have asked my advice in serious questions. I greatly appreciate this thoughtfulness to me.I now dedicate this to my family:“May the Blue-Bird of Happiness scatter sunshine all along your pathway; Bringing you peace, happiness, and sweetest contentment at all times.” (Composed by Hettie P. Fackrell)OUR FAITHOur testimonies have been strengthened many times; we have enjoyed many blessings from our Heavenly Father.At one time, when Ray was about six years old, we all had smallpox. Richard, Karl and Trene had gone over to Parl's (Parley's) who was sick. They afterwards found out he had smallpox, so they were vaccinated. Richard likely had the vaccination and also the smallpox, his arm was so badly swollen and broken out. Well, anyway we all got it. Ray was very ill. Dr. Pointer said he could never live. He laid for about 7 days with his eyes set, and never spoke. The doctor thought it had turned to brain fever. One neighbor, Joe Wintle, called often. The county hired him to make a call every day on all the smallpox patients, or to each place. He never thought Ray would live.Well, he took Ray's name to church (through our request) to have him prayed for; we also fasted and prayed in our son's behalf (mother joining Richard and myself in fasting and prayer). About the time the prayer was made for him, Ray opened his eyes and said, "Mama."Another time when we lived in Huntington, Ronald, who was about eight years old, was taken ill very suddenly in the night. My sister, Mary, stayed to help take care of him in the day time, and we'd take care of him at night. Mary was a good nurse. The doctor did not think Ronald would live. One day as Mary was leaving to go home, Dr. Hill asked, "Are you going home?" She said, "I thought I would." He said, "You'd better stay, it's a matter of a short time." He said it would be all over by morning so Mary stayed with us. Then she called in six or eight of the most faithful sisters in the ward. We held a prayer circle. I was struck very forcibly by the words of one sister as she prayed, "Father, we do not ask for this blessing because of our worthiness, but because we are mothers." We at once noticed that Ronald began to breathe easier and to our happiness he was restored to us.At one time Ferl and Ronald were working in a forest in the northern part of Idaho. One day when Ronald was driving the coupe he met a big truck on a dugway. They couldn't get out on this narrow place so Ronald pulled to the side of the road to make room for them to pass. They then hitched a chain to Ronald's car to help him get back on the road. The chain broke and, with Ronald inside, the car went end over end half way down the hill. The car was stopped momentarily against a tree or some such object and rested there just long enough for him to get out. The jar of his movements as he got out started the car rolling again and it was dashed to pieces in the canyon below. Ferl did not see this for he was working farther on down the canyon.I've always felt these blessings were through our faith and prayers in behalf of my children. Additional notes by Hettie P. FackrellNow I write this myself, and not dictated by Olive.Of course the most of the book was as Olive remembered her childhood and later days. I do not think this part or any other is overdrawn, for Olive did a marvelous work in caring for their family, and everything while Richard was on his mission, for which he always gave her full credit. Seems like at the time I did not fully realize it, but as I am older I more fully realize now how she put forth every effort so he could enjoy the spirit of his calling.Her (blind) sister, Bertha, stayed most of the time with her and would help tend and amuse the kiddies. They were small, and so good, would lovingly lead Aunt Bertha around. Especially Ray and Charlie (and the others later). I so well remember how very good they were not running off to play with the other kiddies if they were busy. I always marveled how those dear little boys - also girls - seemed to sense that duty. The others just the same when they had that duty and were older. Such deeds of kindness so lovingly given are never forgotten.Christine, the adopted sister, was a little Danish girl. She came from Denmark with some missionaries, Eliza's brother Hans Sorenson. Her folks were glad to send her as it took quite a bit to come, and they expected to come as soon as they could. Her mother took ill and they never came for about five years. When they got here, she never remembered them, and preferred to stay with her Fackrell parents, who treated her as their very own. She was a real nice singer, had large brown eyes, and golden hair and rosy cheeks. We all thought a lot of her. They took a lot of interest in church activities. Her name, "Christine Larson" and she always kept her own name. She spent many happy times in Riverside. Took part in plays, etc. She married Laura's son, Tom Chamberlain. They had quite a large family. They lived in Lost River and in Arco at the time of her death a few years ago.
The United Order Movement
Contributor: Will Created: 1 year ago Updated: 1 year ago
THE UNITED ORDER MOVEMENT
The United Order Movement was a program of economic and moral reform begun in 1874 under Brigham Young. It drew upon earlier efforts of the Latter-day Saints to organize cooperatives in Ohio and Missouri and though of little discernible impact in the 1870s, provided the ideological underpinnings for subsequent church poor relief, especially the Welfare Plan, organized in 1936. The return to a more communal economy is still widely regarded among Latter-day Saints as an essential step in preparing for Christ's return and the principles of the United Order are central to present-day church governance.
The United Order was in large measure a response to specific problems that Young faced as leader of the Latter-day Saints in the early 1870s. The Utah economy had grown up in the 1840s, to the 1860s along essentially individualistic, capitalist lines: but tempered by strong elements of central control and communal idealism. Young and other church leaders, most notably his counselor in the First Presidency of the church, George A. Smith, and Apostle Orson Pratt, were concerned that changes attending completion of the transcontinental railroad in 1869 were pushing the Latter-day Saints away from their communal ideals and towards a more individualistic and capitalistic economic model. This concern led them to cast about for means of countering the materialism and selfishness that they saw as endemic to such a system. Young also feared the railroad would bring an increasing dependence of Utah upon outside products, diminishing the control of the Latter-day Saints over the region.
A precedent in Mormonism that seemed to offer a means of meeting these problems was Joseph Smith's Law of Consecration and Stewardship, which had been practiced in Missouri in 1831-33 as the Latter-day Saints began to settle the area they called "Zion," which was in Jackson County. Under the system, communicants consecrated all their possessions to the church in exchange for a "stewardship" -- a home and the resources needed to practice their chosen trade. They were then to use their initiative to manage and improve upon their stewardship. They accounted to the bishop once a year, consecrating at that time any surplus beyond family needs their efforts during the year had accrued. At the same time, Joseph Smith and other church leaders in Ohio began management of several manufacturing enterprises in behalf of the community, calling the collective management system at times the "United Order."
Consecration and Stewardship ended as the Latter-day Saints were driven from Jackson County in 1833, and only sporadic attempts were made to put its principles into operation during the rest of Joseph Smith's lifetime. The United Order in Ohio, part of the larger Consecration and Stewardship system, collapsed at the same time because of internal mismanagement and a generally unfavorable economic climate. Brigham Young, one of the first apostles chosen by Joseph Smith, was nonetheless greatly influenced by his memory of these communal endeavors under Smith. That memory helped persuade him in the 1870s to conclude that the time was right for the Saints to move in the direction of economic cooperation.
Young's wish that spiritual and temporal interests of the Mormons be combined had already found a promising model in cooperatives founded in the mid-1860s in the Utah towns of Lehi and Brigham City. Following these examples, in 1868, he founded Zion's Cooperative Mercantile Institution, a church-sponsored retail trading system that he hoped would drive out non-Mormon merchants and be profitable enough to provide the capital needed to foster local cooperative industries. With the Salt Lake City ZCMI as a central wholesaling facility, Young encouraged the establishment of some 150 retail branches in almost every Mormon town and village.
Despite the apparent short-term success of ZCMI, Young still wrestled with the problem of keeping the Saints apart culturally and economically from the incoming flood of Gentiles attracted by gold and silver strikes in Utah's mountains. The Panic of 1873 provided a particularly sharp lesson in the dangers of integration with the national economy. Those areas of Utah tied to mining suffered severely, while Brigham City, with its elaborate cooperative system, seemed relatively unaffected. Observing poverty, dispiritedness and disaffection as he traveled south to his winter home in St. George during the winter of 1873-74, the aging Mormon leader considered how best to control the situation. The previous October Lorenzo Snow, apostle and founder of the Brigham City Cooperatives, had preached a sermon which perhaps was still ringing in Young's ears: "It is more than forty years since the Order of Enoch was introduced, and rejected. One would naturally think, that it is now about time to begin to honor it."
Using the name from the cooperative manufacturing effort instituted under Joseph Smith, Young began in February urging each settlement to organize under the "United Order of Enoch." So important was the new movement that Young postponed the April general conference so he could be in Salt Lake City to introduce personally the new system of economic reform. As enthusiasm for the movement grew, many Mormons were rebaptized to indicate their commitment to the order. Church leaders replaced reluctant bishops, and sent envoys to remote areas to deal with foot dragging or problems arising from the order. The church printed broadsides of the "Rules...of the United Order," which were posted in ward meetinghouses, committing members to general moral reform as well as to living the communal order.
By the next fall, some two hundred united orders had been founded at least on paper, among both rural and urban congregations. Yet only here and there was attachment to the program sufficient to sustain the effort beyond the 1874 season. Many never got beyond the stage of electing officers. The disappointing result perhaps could have been predicted. Young was attempting at a stroke to transform a frail but functioning capitalist economy, serving some 80,000 persons into a commonwealth of communes. Aware that some would resist, he specifically ordered that no one be coerced. Moreover, he placed upon the bishop of each congregation the responsibility of determining how far his flock was willing to go in the direction of cooperation and urged bishops not to push them further than they were willing. The result was a bewildering variety of organizations and a good deal of fighting within congregations as to what form their United Order should take. In no instance was the specific form of Smith's earlier Law of Consecration and Stewardship followed.
Northern communities, such as Brigham City, a number of which already had well-developed community cooperatives, merely changed the name of their organization and continued business as usual. Many of the city congregations in Salt Lake, Ogden, and Provo, after some stumbling, attempted to found a manufacturing enterprise, contributing capital and labor to establish a community-owned meat market, hat factory, or soap factory, for example. Yet city bishops were perhaps of all Young's lieutenants most tied to the Gentile economy, and most were not eager to lead their flock into the United Order. Only two or three of the city wards formed viable organizations.
The more common orders were in the congregations of rural towns, such as at St. George, where land and farm equipment were placed under the direction of an elected committee which supervised production. The committees decided such matters as which crops to grow, who should work at which tasks, and to what extent members would be allowed to move or work outside the order. There was, however, no effort to prescribe common dress or uniform housing, to eat at a common table, or to regiment personal lives, beyond seeing that the work due the order was accomplished. Moreover, as the orders began to disband in the fall of 1874, the members seemed to have no difficulty identifying the property they had contributed.
Another form of united order was urged by those who felt a fully communal life would be the only one consistent with Brigham Young's aims. Their devotion to what was called the "gospel plan" was such that in at least two instances severe strains developed between the communalists and those desiring something less than an all-encompassing cooperative. In Kanab, the bishop suspended the sacrament (communion) for several months because there was such rancor between the two camps. The breech became so great in Mt. Carmel that it could not be healed. Those favoring the gospel plan seceded from the town in 1875 and founded their own two miles away, which they named Orderville. Orderville became the symbol for the most communal United Order and a model for a number of Orders, especially in the southern portions of Mormon country.
The Orderville Saints went far beyond what Joseph Smith had envisioned in the Law of Consecration and Stewardship. The members ate together in a common dining hall, wore uniform clothing made by Orderville industries, and lived in uniform apartments. The elected board supervised all activity, including entertainment, schooling, cooking, clothing manufacture, and farming. Private property did not exist, though personal possessions were assigned as a Stewardship to each individual.
Under this regimen the order prospered, both materially and spiritually. Assets of the eighty families tripled from $21,551 to $69,562 in the first four years of operation and reached nearly $80,000 by 1883. The leaders made adjustments as time went on. In 1877 they replaced the earlier loose dependence upon willingness to contribute with an accounting system that placed uniform values on labor and commodities (the wages varying by age and sex, but not type of work). A flood in 1880 destroyed the dining facilities, ending communal meals. In 1883 Erastus Snow, a regional church official, recommended moving to an unequal wage and partial stewardship system, the latter giving each family a plot of ground to till for its own use. Evolution away from the original communal purity continued as specific enterprises were leased to their operators for a fee retained by the order.
External pressures took their toll as well. The largely polygamous leadership of the community was decimated after the U. S. Congress passed the Edmunds Act of 1882. This act stimulated a vigorous campaign to enforce federal anti-polygamy statues, leading to the imprisonment or forced exile of many local leaders. In 1885 central church leaders, eager to reduce the range of federal complaints against Mormon peculiarities (the government was hostile to Mormon economic as well as marital practices), counseled the members to disband the Order, which they agreed reluctantly to do. They retained community ownership of the tannery, woolen mill, and sheep ranch until 1889 and finally let the corporation lapse in 1904.
Although the less communal stock company system of Brigham City was at least as successful financially as was Orderville, it did not capture the imagination and live on in the collective memory of Mormons. Orderville became the symbol of the United Order for subsequent Saints, a daring and near-successful effort to build the City of God on earth. Celebrated in song and legend, Orderville is in the minds of most Mormons today a model of selflessness, devotion and future obligation. In fact few today seem to realize that the United Order of Enoch was attempted outside of Orderville.
Sporadic efforts were made in the 1880s to implement some form of the United Order, especially in the founding of new colonies, and of course some organizations, such as Orderville and Brigham City, continued for a decade or more after founding. Yet it was clear by 1876 that the mass involvement Young had hoped for would not materialize. Asked in the last year of his life if he had launched the effort on his own or through revelation, he replied that he "had been inspired by the gift and power of God to call upon the Saints to enter into the United Order of Enoch and that now was the time, but he could not get the Saints to live it and his skirts are clear if he never says another word about it."
Faced with unrematting federal pressures towards conformity, Young's successors were content to retreat from advocating an active communal life and to nourish the substance of communalism that would remain central to Mormonism. Southern Utah leader Erastus Snow advised those who regretted the demise of the Order to, "Murmur as little as possible; complain as little as possible, and if we are not yet advanced enough to all eat at one table, all work in one company, at least feel that we all have one common interest and are all children of one Father; and let us each do what we can to save ourselves and each other."
It perhaps is no surprise that the United Order experience did not turn the Mormons against the communal values that had so long been important to their identity as a people. On the contrary, the regret in Brigham Young's complaint that he "could not get the Saints to live it" and the promise in Erastus Snow's observation that "we are not yet advanced enough" resonated long in Mormon country. Mormons continued to call church assignments "stewardships" and to vow to consecrate all their energies and possessions to the church. They drew upon the idealism that was part of the United Order experience in founding their Welfare Plan in 1936, and continue to catechize themselves with the question of whether they would have the faith to live the United Order as a final step in preparing for Christ's return. A blueprint for a perfect society could be readily forgotten, but not a failed effort to build it.
See: Edward J. Allen, The Second United Order among the Mormons (1936); Leonard J. Arrington, Great Basin Kingdom: An Economic History of the Latter-day Saints, 1830-1900 (1958); Leonard J. Arrington, Feramorz Y. Fox, and Dean L. May, Building the City of God: Community and Cooperation Among the Mormons (1976); Lyndon W. Cook, Joseph Smith and the Law of Consecration (1985); Joseph A. Geddes, The United Order Among the Mormons (Missouri Phase) (1924); Robert B. Flanders, Nauvoo: Kingdom on the Mississippi (1965); Dean L. May, "Brigham Young and the Bishops: The United Order in the City." New Views of Mormon History: A Collection of Essays, ed. By Davis Bitton and Maureen Ursenbach Beecher (1987); Wallace Stegner, The Gathering of Zion: the Story of the Mormon Trail (1971); Evon Z. Vogt, Ethel M. Albert, eds. People of Rimrock: A Study of Values in Five Cultures (1966).
Dean L. May
Utah History Encyclopedia