Wellington Paul Wilson

1814 - 1896

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Wellington Paul Wilson

1814 - 1896
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Grave site information of Wellington Paul Wilson (1814 - 1896) at Hillsdale Cemetery in Panguitch, Garfield, Utah, United States from BillionGraves

Life Information

Wellington Paul Wilson

Born:
Died:

Hillsdale Cemetery

2650 E Road
Panguitch, Garfield, Utah
United States
Transcriber

hydrobrain

July 12, 2015
Photographer

Ron Haymore

June 2, 2013

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Memories

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Birthday Peoms-by Wellington Paul Wilson

Contributor: hydrobrain Created: 3 years ago Updated: 3 years ago

MY BIRTHDAY - February 1, 1889 My birthdays now are seventy-five And on life's journey toiling still Not many more I need survive All my appointment time to fill For now my eve of life appears The path of life so long I've kept I'm bending in the weight of years With wearly limbs and halting step I've sailed on life's tempestuous sea" I've braved the stormy world of strife Now is retiring rest for me Declining in the eve of life While oft I see in looking back So many dangers safely passed With the destroyer on my track Eager to aim the fatal shaft Thrice he ensnared the path I trod With clutches cold he seized my death But swiftly came the power of God And saved me from the jaws of death In age advanced that guardian power Is guarding still the mortal strife That all my days and every hour Has kept me in the path of life MY BIRTHDAY - February 1, 1890 Seventy-six years now passed with joy and sorrow Have worn deep furrows in my wrinkled brow With hopes yet future for a bright tomorrow All hopes are future, all my sorrow now And this is happy, can you tell me how? Yes, happy is in faith and hope relying With full assurance of a brighter day When all are happy, filled with joy undying All sorrows cease, all tears are wiped away Such hope is happy while on earth we stay But more than hope, we have the bliss of knowing A Heaven is ours of joy and glory where Our treasure is, and where we soon are going To meet the dear ones gone and gathered there To join with them and in their glory share But, Oh, the world, so like the restless ocean All tossed and rolling o'er an angry grave "Men's hearts" are failing with a wild commotion In fear of sinking with no arm to save Yet scoff at danger to be counted brave. ANOTHER BIRTHDAY - February 1, 1891 Seventy-five [seven] years, a pilgrim here The years, where have they gone? While I have toiled through every year And still am toiling on In morn of youth, in noon of day And in the eves decline I sought for bliss, I found the way To make the treasure mine I found the path that leads to bliss And lamp to light the way Who ever will, may joy like this Who will be happy, may Of bliss on earth we cannot deem To have a fullness here For happiness in joy supreme Is for a holier sphere But joy the world can never give And cannot take away Conditioned to the lives we live The laws that we obey MY BIRTHDAY - February 1, 1892 My birthdays are now seventy-eight And in life's pathway toiling still Or lingering near the "pearly gate" The measure of my days to fille Through life I felt that any hour I might be called to yield my breath But still an unseen guardian power Has turned away the shaft of death And saved me from the "fowlers snare" And bade the fell destroyer cease And rescued me in anxious care And led me in the path of peace From youth to age, and now I'm old In toiling through this world of strife, I south for riches -- not of gold But "Riches of Eternal Life" All worldly wealth is mixed with pride And they that have will covet more But read "The rich man also died" Whose then will be his garnered store? I want of worldly wealth and show No more than needful to my share For in the Mansions where I go My treasure and my heart are there That Mansion is my long abode With treasures there in sacred seal Where moth and rust cannot corrode Nor anything break through and steal SEVENTY-NINE YEARS OLD TODAY February 1, 1893 While sailing on life's stormy sea And toiling in a world of strife The stream of time has wafted me Clear onward to the eve of life I meet and pass where e'er I go The worlds great image - Idol vain With false pretension - enmity show And stained with blood of martyrs slain Adieu van world - so false, so fair Its gilded follies I eschew They're false as Pagan Idols are As false but fairer to the view For I have seen in vision clear A better world, a blissful shore One step will reach it 'tis so near Where dwells the Father we adore In eve of life and days decline I linger near the "Pearly Gate" 'Till stepping from the shore of time I enter in my third estate "At evening time it shall be light" These scripture words prophetic are From eve. to morn shall be no night But as the day be bright and fair There will "The day spring from on high" In rising glory shine afar As in the vision I decry The "glory beaming" morning star Hail to the morn - the rising day "First day" in real life to live Where all the pleasures come to stay And joys this world could never give WHERE IS MY HOME - 80th Birthday When in the world I must arrive On my first natal day When I was born so scarce alive No one believed I could survive And soon would pass away But I was here to stay Tenacious too, of life and strong To bear the weight of years While in the world I've lived so long Through good and evil, right and wrong Wherein all hopes and fears Is like a vale of tears Lived I in spirit long ago Where angel spirits are Before I came to earth below Could I return and should I know To claim my mansion there And higher glory share I'm looking through the starry dome Of heaven so far away In that expanse where is my home! Since leaving there on earth to roam Is eighty years today And here as yet I stay In this probation school to learn While braving every ill All good from evil to discern And leave my body and return to higher glory still and higher calling fill Till when the trumpet long and loud The righteous dead shall hear That voice shall pierce death's gloomy cloud When all shall rise a shining broad crowd And on earth appear My home will then be here For coming where by body lies When that great trump shall blow My spirit sees, my body rise In real life before my eyes It is I see, I know My own dear body, even so. Oct. 23, 1893 MY BIRTHDAY Eighty-one years have passed away Since I on earth was born And this is now my natal day At break of early morn I came from yonder starry dome Where angels spirits are I came to earth, I left that home And left my memory there My eyes were closed on scenes so dear On earth my lot was cast To live a new probation here Oblivious of the past My eyes were opened in this vain and wicked world of strife And scenes of sorrow, toil and pain were in my path of life While this my path is filled with care And mixed with good and ill I have of good the greater share Of joy and pleasure still This life if good is not the best So hurried and so brief Yet for the weary there is rest and joy in every grief My path is often strewn with flowers And leads in scenery fair With friends to cherish the blissful hours And linger smiling there But when the path is dark and drear With pits and snares beset No stop, no stay, no timid fear My course is onward yet And upward to that heavenly home Where I again shall know The bliss I left on earth to roam So many years ago The journey there is not so far That beacon burning bright Now like a glory beaming star Reflects the morning light That star of hope, of heavenly rest Has cheered me on my way And comes anew, a welcome guest On this my natal day MY EIGHTY-SECOND BIRTHDAY The weight of years has bent me low Years are nearly eighty-two But paralyzed and halting so I see no more that I can do While sailing on life's troubled sea And toiling in a world of strife The stream of time has wafted me Clear onward to the eve of life The night of death must close the day The dark deep river is

Copy of Wellington Paul Story-(unknown author)

Contributor: hydrobrain Created: 3 years ago Updated: 3 years ago

WILSON HISTORY Wellington Paul Wilson *Wellington Paul Wilson is our great grandfather Wellington Paul Wilson was the brother of my grandfather, George Deliverance Wilson, and consequently was "Uncle Paul" to all of the Wilson-Johnson families in the little town of Hillsdale. He was one of the outstanding men in my childhood. As I remember him, he was rather tall, broad shouldered, with a body straight and well formed even though he was quite old then. He had a broad intellectual forehead, but his face was thin and rather long. I am not sure if his eyes were blue or brown but do remember that they were keen and piercing. His nose was rather prominent and mouth likewise. I knew him only with gray hair. His hands were medium large with fingers long and tapering. He weighed about 175 or 180 pounds. Well educated for those days, he was considered to be an exceptionally good teacher. However, I did not attend his school, being too young at that time. He was a good speaker. The last time I recall hearing him speak in sacrament meeting he was quite feeble and my father, who was presiding over the meeting, brought a chair and had him sit while he was speaking. His discourse was very eloquent. I don't recall what he said but the picture of him Sitting there in the chair speaking is still very vivid in my mind. His countenance literally shone with eloquence and enthusiasm in the things he was saying. This was only a short time before he died. Father was always a subscriber to the little old church paper, The Deseret Weekly News, and would send it over to "Uncle" to read each time. I was a great privilege for us children to take the paper over to him. He always shook hands with us and thanked us for bringing it. This made us feel quite important and happy. It was a real time of mourning when "Uncle" died, May 29, 1896. His was the first funeral I ever remember, and I still recall how long his coffin liked in the little old school meeting house. Uncle Paul and his wife, "Aunt Becky" lived in a small log house on the brow of the hill over looking the river. The sawmill was just north of the house where they lived. As a child I remember well the fun we, with the other town children, had playing hide and seek among the logs which had been hauled from the canyon near by. Some of them were stacked in piles, some scattered over the yard waiting to be sawed into lumber, by our fathers and uncles. The old up and down saw was run by water. Water from the mill stream fell over the water wheel and generated the power to run the mill. The logs were hauled from the canyons east of Hillsdale by ox team. Sometimes two yoke of oxen were used to pull one wagon load of logs. Uncle Paul's wife was Rebecca McBride, a granddaughter of Thomas McBride who was killed at the Hauns Mill Massacre. I don't know much about their family except the youngest daughter who was also named Rebecca and called "Becky". She lived at Hillsdale and when she married our uncle, Jesse Stephen Wilson, we children were confronted by quite a problem - we had tow" Aunt Becky’s" We settled it by calling the older one "Grandma Beck". It was Grandma Becky who taught me how to make baskets. It was in the summer of 1896 when I was ten years old. Sometime, somewhere in her earlier life she had mastered this trade. With the common ordinary willows growing along the river and streams, and in the pastures, she made the most beautiful and useful baskets. Hers was truly a wonderful art. The long slender shoots were cut from the willows in the springtime when the sap had risen and made the bark easy to pull off: the whistle stage, we called it. The willows must be peeled or stripped of their bark immediately, for after standing for a short time, the bark or Peeling adhered to the willows and could not be removed. After peeling the willows were tied into bundles and left to dry and shrink. "Season", we called it. Grandma Becky used to have "Peeling Bees" and we children were invited to help strip the bark from the willows. In those pioneer days there were all kinds of "Bees", where people helped each other with their work. Nearly always she had a little treat of some kind for us when the work was finished. We all loved her very much. While teaching me that summer she often told me stories of her pioneer life. She said they had all kinds of house bees, barn raising bees, quilting bees, carding and spinning bees, rag bees for rug and carpet making and com husking bees. When men were ready to build a house or barn or women had material ready to work up, they would hold a bee. Then the friends and neighbors, who in the small communities meant everyone, were invited to come and help. In this way they could accomplish a lot of work in a short time. The only expense was for the food furnished by the sponsor of the bee. These get to gather's were a source of entertainment and social contacts which meant much to the pioneers of those days of hard work and lack of amusement. It was a strenuous life. Grandma Becky told me this story of one good old fashioned working bee. In one place she lived her neighbor's son had been called to go on a mission. He received his call on Sunday. There would be an opportunity for him to leave the following Sunday with someone who was going back across the plains. Every such chance must be taken advantage of, for there was no regular means of transportation. This was before the days of trains, trucks and cars. He son was willing to go and preach the gospel, but he must have a suit of clothes first. All he now had was his ordinary work clothes. The sheep, from whose fleece the suit had to come from was still wearing the wool. Early the next morning the young man and his father sheared the wool from the sheep. The neighbors learned of the situation and come to gather at the job. It was a busy week and as a result of co-operative effort, the young missionary was ready on time. One Sunday the wool was on the sheep's back and by the next Sunday it had been clipped, cleaned, carded, and spun. woven and made into a splendid suit and was on the missionary as he stood up before his friends and neighbors and delivered his farewell speech before leaving for his mission. This is an example of what unity of purpose and cooperative effort can accomplish. Grandma Becky said she received all kinds of comments on her basket making. Everyone loved to watch her as she worked. One young boy (the smart aleck type), after watching for some time said, "Grandma Becky, does anyone but squaws make baskets?" She accepted this as a joke and laughed when she told me about it. Another day a young girl was watching her and said, "Becky I dreamed last night someone made me a basket." "Well, maybe they will some day." said Becky. "But, said the gir1, "I dreamed last night you made me a basket." "Well, I didn't ", said Grandma. These were funny little incidents we laughed about together. She told me very impressively the story of the Hauns Mill Massacre. The details as she gave them were much the same as are recorded in church history but the manner in which she related them lift a lasting impression on my youthful mind. She said that, she with other members of her family had been to Hauns Mill to visit her grandfather and had left for home about an hour before the mob came. She told about the old blacksmith shop where some of the murders were committed, of the young boy who crawled under the bellows to escape by the mob found and killed him, of another boy whose hip was shot away and who was left for dead. But was spared because his mother was inspired to know what to do to save him. She told of the old well by the blacksmith shop where the bodies were thrown in a heap after the murders. Agnes, to me, your grandmother was very much like your mother in size, complexion, personal appearance, and general characteristics. I don't know how much education she had but do know that she was a very intelligent woman and though quite old when I worked with her, she lived a life of activity. We usually made a basket a day. Mine were small and crude in comparison to hers. When the basket was finished she usually went down to the river, which was only a short distance form. her little home, and fished until dar1<. She was usually quite successful and brought fish which she generously shared with me for lunch the next day. I don't remember if she had a stove or not, but do remember her cooking the fish in a heavy fry pan on coals in front of the fireplace, and the delicious cornbread from the heavy iron bake skillet also on the coals. We also warmed the water to soak our willows and make them pliable on the fireplace coals. Outstanding indeed in my childhood were the times when Grandma Becky took me fishing with her after our days work was done. When I wasn't very successful she shared her fish with me. The day I was twelve years old she gave me a set of smell glass dessert dishes, which have been among my dearest treasures ever since. Three weeks later I was real happy when Mother went to town (Panguitch) and bought a nice piece of navy blue cashmere material and let me give it to Grandma Becky to make her a "Sunday Dress". She was so appreciative of any and every little kindness shown her. In my mind I see now a little brown crockery jar that stood on the comer of her cupboard. It was highly glazed making it smooth and shiny. Each fall when the red berries were ripe she would fill it with jam. I often took a small/I loaf of freshly baked bread with me when I went to wor1<, and have never tasted anything quite so delicious as a slice of it spread with a bit of the jam from the little brown jar on the comer of her cupboard. "Uncle" had a mare named Pigeon (Pig for short), which they used to pull a cart or buckboard to get around occasionally. One fine spring day old Pig had a little colt which made us children all very happy. Not being able to take care of it themselves when if grew older, with their usual kindness they gave the colt to my brother Moses, who loved and appreciated it very much, especially at the time when part of our family were living up in the Johnson Canyon ranching. On the 24th of July Eli rode Junt (the Pony) over to the main canyon where Uncle Jesse's family lived. This was the day that Wellington was shot and Eli rode on down to Hillsdale to get help. Junt lived to be old but was finally found dead one morning, supposedly having been struck by lightning.

Autobiography-Wellington Paul Wilson

Contributor: hydrobrain Created: 3 years ago Updated: 3 years ago

HISTORICAL SKETCHES IN THE LIFE OF W. P. WIILSON by WELLINGTON PAUL WILSON INTRODUCTION Sixty-three years I have been toiling on the "journey of life" and the journey is not yet accomplished. In looking-forward, on the journey how little can I see, but in the past, what constant labor and toil, what ceaseless anxiety and care, what hopes not matured and fears have passed away. What dangers of every kind have I escaped? A few dangers have been foreseen and avoided, but many were not seen till the danger was passed, and how many dangers have passed all unseen I know not. The lapse of 5O and even to 60 years past the remembrance of passing events and transactions have accumulated on my mind till my memory is burdened and seeks relief in writing and what if I should cause the Book of Remembrance to be written, the present benefit to be a relief to my over-burdened memory, and in the future it may be a benefit to my posterity and their rising genera¬tions in that day when the "Hearts of the children shall be turned to their Fathers". In an over-crowded memory some things are liable to be dis-placed and as no notes are preserved and nothing in the shape of a Journal of Travels dates, etc. I shall pass by some things that might be of some interest but not remembered sufficiently plain to place in a plain record. I do not propose to paraphrase or eulogize nor yet to rOmaT1Ce but only to note facts as they really occurred, myself being eye or ear witness. CHAPTER 2 Parentage, lineal descent, heir ship, father's personal appearance, religious views, obeys the Gospel, called to rest. My father was born in Petersham, State of Massachusetts, July 2, 1769 and was named Deliverance. He was a lineal descendant of Benjamin Wilson who emigrated from England to America in the year 1664 and settled near Boston. His (Benjamin Wilson's) father, Robert Wilson died in England possessed of a large landed and agri¬cultural estate and also a large estate in city property in London. For further particulars concerning heir ship, how the heirs were disposed of the estate, etc., see "Report to the Wilson Association: by H. O. Smith, 1855". Deliverance Wilson, when a boy with his father's family moved to the State of Vermont where he lived till about the year 1789 I Then he married Lovina Fairchild. She was born in Arlington, State of Vermont, February 10, 1774. They settled in Burlington, Vermont where I was born. My father was a man resolute and strong, over medium height, heavy set, full featured, light completion, large blue eyes, sandy whiskers and brown hair, average weight 187. He could pick up a barrel of cider from the ground and load it in an ox cart. He was no religionist but rather a free thinker till at the age of 67 he heard and obeyed the Gospel in Kirtland, Ohio. Two years afterward in Illinois he was called to rest. I cannot here forebear to add a tribute to my father's memory as touching his religion. He was no scoffer, a man of few words. Rather slow spoken, willing for every man to enjoy his conscientious belief as a constitutional right which he held sacred to liberty. He had no bad habits in a moral sense, strictly honest, always obliging. His religious test was, "Do they do to others as they would have others do to them." - 2 - CHAPTER 3 My mother's ancestry, personal appearance, religion, children, obeys the gospel, left a widow, called to rest. My mother as I have said was Lovina Fairchild. Her father descended from a family of Fairchild’s that came from England in the last of the 17th century and settled in Massachusetts. It was believed in my mother's time that no others of that name had immigrated to America. Her mother's name was Wooley, descended from a family of Wooleys that emigrated from Scotland (I believe) and settled on Long Island. In her personal appearance she was slender built, medium height, quite fair completion, hair raven black, quick and active, quick of apprehension, quick spoken and loved to talk of Heaven and divine things and was always full of the best religion she could find. It was in the spring of 1836 that my mother and my father obeyed the gospel and were baptized in Kirtland, Ohio. She was left a widow at my father's death and remained so for several years, always full of faith till she was called to rest. As a last tribute to her memory I must say that she was~ a praying mother. She' taught her children, and me her youngest boy, in the "nurture and admonition of the Lord". She early inspired my tender little mind with such a perfect hatred of swearing and drinking that profane oath has never yet escaped from my lips, and my lips have not once drank to excess the intoxicating cup. Thanks for the sacred influence of a praying mother. I will rise up and call her blest. Thanks for the example and precept of both father and mother that early taught me to abhor and shun these and kindred evils, and in the hand of Providence has kept me from the "fowler's snare.” CHAPTER 4 Father's family, children, sickness, all passing away, reflections. - 3 - My father was well-to-do" farmer in his time, always healthy and strong, but the children were much subject to sickness and mother was often sick. Several times when I was young, I remember' she was considered "nigh unto death". Of 10 children born, one died in infancy, two in childhood and three in early youth. Four only lived to have families and in 1870 two only of them were left. All the others have passed away. Two left, two brothers left alone. And now while the painful thoughts of former time’s glides over my soul, I hope you will pardon my digression while I wander off and indulge in a few reflections, bearing more on the present time. I said only two are left and might I ask, why are they left? They have encountered many and great dangers. They have passed through unhurt "where pestilence walketh in darkness and destruction at noon day". They have escaped in the very place where Death itself sat angling to catch them for his prey. But now their feet weary and worn with the footsteps which have neared the brink of the "dark river" and begin to feel the chilling spray of the tidal wave that "bears poor mortals from that shore of time". Possibly then that they, those two, can yet do a work for the departed to facilitate their happy return to earth, in that morning when the "trumpet blows". 0 alas, how can I leave that work, and how can I leave the subject. How can I be content to sit and sigh, “Hush thee my dear lie still and slumber?" CHAPTER 5 The time of my birth, infancy, childhood I was the ninth in order of number among the ten children in fathers family and was born the first day of February, 1814, in the town (now city) of Burlington, State of Vermont. My mother often told me of that time. She had been poorly and I was so little and trifling how could I live? And she almost despaired of her own life. She was so prostrate and too weak to nurse or offer me any nourishment. But my sister, Sarah, oldest of the family, about 19 single, and at home, took me to her bosom and fed me from a bottle. - 4 - And nursed me and cared for me day and night during my mother's confinement, which if I remember right, she told me was near six months. Mother said I appeared to be healthy at first, but grew very slow. I told her (joking) they had heaped so much name on me how could I grow? Wellington Paul was name enough to check the growth of any little baby, as she said I was, and I wondered how they could give me such a name. She said when my father first found he had another boy he said "His name shall be Wellington". She did not like me to be called after a fighting general, but he had said it with such an air of earnestness she would not object. Still she wanted me to have a "scripture name" and she called me "Paul". When nearly two years old, I walked alone and soon took the whooping cough and before it was half through I took the measles and had both together. I was left with something like what they call rickets. My recovery was very slow, and my growth had been hindered till at the age of 5 or 6, I was too little to mention, though very spry and active, and withal I was left-handed. My mother said she quite despaired of my ever growing up even to the smallest size of manhood and spoke of Peter Drew, the very smallest man she ever saw, and she did fervently wish I might grow to be as big as he. My mother had but three boys of which I was the youngest. The oldest named Stephen died at the age of nine. The other named George Deliverance, about seven years old when I was born, is still living. But I was growing all the time and though I was yet so small, and in winter I was ten years old I was sick with what the doctor called Typhus Fever and for six weeks my mother was over me day and night, with scarcely any sleep. When I recovered so they could carry me to the window to look out it was too much for me, but I was soon able to go out and began to grow very fast, and though I had spells of sickness some of them very severe, till I was eighteen. When I was 23 I was as tall as my father and weighed over 160 pounds. My chances for education was limited to the common District School which I generally attended winters. I was always fond of - 5 - reading, particularly the Bible and religious books, the different beliefs of Christians, their discourses, biographies, but never novels. I was always very susceptible of religious impressions. At the age of twelve my anxiety and deep concern of men had so increased that I could not be happy. I went to different religious meetings, Congregational, Methodist, and such others as I could. I heard first class preachers; among them were those of the higher order of intelligence. All spoke from "Is there no Balm in Gilead" But their Gilead had no balm for me. Yet no mortal knew of my feelings. They were all my own. I examined very closely my own actions and feelings but could not see why I should feel so condemned. Then I took up the commandments known as the Ten Commandments in the Bible and read them carefully one by one, but none of them condemned me except the one "The first and great commandment," and why should I be condemned for not keeping that when the best Christians that no man on earth ever did or ever would keep it. Here I could go no further, for not only myself but all the good Christians and all the world were in a very bad fix. So I thought I would just let the Lord fix it himself, still believing that he would do right, but no relief came to my mind, till awaking one night in mid-night darkness: another wave of darkness rolled right over me. I shut my eyes but it was so dark I could feel it. It was followed by a clear 1ight. like a burning light, and so light could feel it as if I was all lit up, and such joy and peace and comfort, all my sadness was turned to glory, well to me it was glory. Morning came. I was still happy, and at night I did not feel the darkness though the light was not always so very bright. Now I don't wish to say I saw the light with my eyes, my natural eyes, for aught I know they might have been still shut. I will not try to tell any further what I experienced. My mother observed a change in me but I would not tell her but I wrote some verses and read to her. It is the first of my own compositions that has been preserved and I will copy it here without any corrections every word just as I wrote it. - 6 - A MORNING IN MAY Thou art risen, brilliant orbit of day Upon thy Orient throne And o'er the land a morning ray of light refulgent shone. Nature rejoices: verdant spring Has borrowed robes of May And every animated thing Its pleasure doth display. The feathered brilliances of air Their notes, melodious raise and prune their wings and plumage fair Amid the morning blaze. But man, in natures darkness still Sees but a glimmering light His heart no melody can feel His ear hath no delight. Gloomy to him, the sun, the sky A stranger still to peace Until the brighter sun doth rise The Son of Righteousness. Thou Son of Righteousness alone With healing on thy wings Ascend upon they azure throne Whence rays of glory springs. Shine through hearts, Our Father's Son, With vivifying rays And we respond, "Thy will be done And thine be all the praise." CHAPTER 6 Christians, Sunday Meetings, Sunday Schools. The majority of the people where my father lived were reckoned among the Christians and belonged mostly to the Christian churches, and had their Sunday and other meetings and Sunday Schools which I sometimes attended, but there was no religious excitement. I worked hard with my father and older brother but I found much time to read and to study. I was interested in the study of Christianity, its changes, the origin of the different churches, their conflicting creeds and their scripture proofs. In a few years religious excitement increased and religion ran high with Reformations, -7- Conversions, great revivals. The preachers said it was “a great harvest of souls”. My brother older than I went to the Methodist and was baptized and tried to preach but “a dispensation of the gospel” was not committed to him. My sister younger than I went to the same church and became a great help to them in their prayer meetings but W. P. was not moved though the preachers angled for him, yet I did not ask them for their prayers, for I knew and was certain that theirs was not the true faith. My mother thought I ought to join the Church. She belonged to the church and was sure her prayers and faith had been a means of saving my life. I did not doubt it in the least, but the church did not believe in miracles. But their preacher says that “a mother’s prayers will conquer Heaven” and a mother’s prayer is more to me than the faith of the Church, but she seemed to... (The history ends here, evidently more was written but has not been preserved) *This was provided by Virginia Wilson as a result of her life time efforts in genealogy research

Jesse Stephen Wilson 1899-1977

Contributor: hydrobrain Created: 3 years ago Updated: 3 years ago

LIFE STORY OF JESSE STEPHEN WILSON (as written in 1963 with additions dictated to Lilith during early 1977) I was born on April 22, 1899 in a house just north of our last Hillsdale home. It had formerly been occupied by David J. and Adelia W. Wilson. This assertion can only be established from existing records and cannot be verified from personal recollection. My parents were Jesse Stephen Wilson and Rebecca Wilson. Their parents were George Deliverance Wilson and Martha Ann Riste and Wellington Paul Wilson and Rebecca McBride. This I can assert, they were all faithful Latter-Day Saints, and had a strong testimony of the Gospel. I am the first son and the third child in our family of six boys and four girls. We arrived in the following order: Eunice, Agnes, Jesse Stephen, Wellington Paul, George Deliverance, Rebecca, Don Carl, Rulon McBride, Calvin and Leora. One of my early childhood summers was spent on a ranch about four miles south of Hillsdale, then known as Dusetts. It is now the Lamond Heaton ranch. Both my parent's family and my Uncle Will's somehow managed to live in the two-room log cabin which is still standing. Our family next moved to the old family home on the brow of the hill, just east of Grandfather George Deliverance Wilson's sawmill. This home was built by Uncle George H. Wilson and his brothers especially for Wellington Paul and Rebecca, since they had prevailed on Uncle Paul to come to them after the death of their father, George Deliverance. Some of my earliest memories were: seeing my grandmother Rebecca come across an open cultivated field enroute home with a string of fish; and me coaxing my mother for some of the medicine she was giving to my grandmother during her last illness which occurred when I was approximately three years old. My early youth was spent in Hillsdale and many memories still linger of Church and school in the small sawed-log building that served for both purposes. Our branch belonged to the Panguitch South Ward. Uncle George H. Wilson was presiding Elder, David J. Wilson, Sunday School Superintendent and my mother Primary President. They with our teachers taught us well. We learned to love and live the Gospel. My school teachers in that one-room school were: Lula Wilson, Rachel Wilson, Lily Ivy, and Melvin Porter. There were around fifteen to twenty boys ranging in ages from five to eighteen when Mr. Porter arrived. He looked the situation over and declared, "These boys need some physical exercise", and he immediately started us building hurdles, horizontal bars, high-jumps, and he obtained a shot-put and he coached us in baseball, broad jump, races and stunt exercises. As I grew older all our summers were spent on the farm ranch two miles east of Hillsdale, which has always been known as "The Canyon". Being the oldest boy I was Father's first-hand helper and learned to drive a team at an early age. oh, I must have been eight or ten when I first learned to drive the harrow and later to plow. Dad would sing as he worked, mostly some solemncoly song like "Nelly Gray", "Annie Laurie", "Spanish Cavalier," "Swannie River", and "In the Gloaming". Here is a quote from Eunice's letter: "My fondest memories of father are about his singing. Every night was home night. He sang by the hour. He had a most beautiful voice and knew so many songs, enough to fill the evening. "Star Spangled Banner" and "Oh, My Father" were never missed." Father and I had a project of reading the Book of Mormon together while we two were at The Canyon and the rest of the family was still at Hillsdale. One night he was just finishing an interesting chapter and we were preparing to eat our bread and milk supper when I decided some of the early multiplier onions would be a good accompaniment and I said, "Dad, do you want me to go and get some Lamanites to eat with our bread and milk?" This caused much humor then and ever after. We put our milk cows up the canyon to feed. We boys had the responsibility to take them off in the morning and go get them at night in time for milking before dark. We rode a little bay pony named "Queen". He was a quick, spirited animal and jumped right out from under me several times. I recall riding him to look at Pa's traps that he had set where a cougar had killed a young horse a night or two before. As I rode up Flood Canyon through the big brush, nearing the place, suddenly he snorted, jumped and dumped me within six or eight feet of the trapped cougar. I wasn't slow in following Queen's retreat. He was good to stop and wait for his riders after spilling them. I rode back home and got Dad and his gun. The cougar was a big one - nine feet from tip to tip. On July 24, 1913, tragedy and grief upset our family as well as our friends and community because of the accidental shooting and death of my brother Wellington. It was customary for the men of the community to have a target-shooting contest and they had used a chicken coop as a place to nail the target. After several rounds of shooting, the men decided to stop and we boys always liked to dig the slugs out and went into the chicken coop for that purpose. Not knowing we were there, one of the men said, "Let's shoot another round", and Wellington was killed with the first shot which happened to have been fired by Dad. Father especially was grief stricken. Eunice writes of him - "He was never well. Since his youth he had suffered much from cramps. The doctors first blamed his appendix, but later changed their minds. His death certificate read "stricture of the bowel". His last years were sad ones. Those cramps were so hard and came with little warning. They were the dread of our life. Anyway, he was a semi-invalid, and yet between sick spells he was a hard worker. No man ever worked harder. He did so well whatever he did; for example, take his irrigation. He could take a stream of water and handle it so well it was like a picture before him, like making a painting, a form of self-expression." As a family struggling to gain a living, we suffered the tragic loss of father on November 12, 1916. To my mother and two older sisters should go the gratitude of the entire family for their courage and sacrifice in putting the family through the difficult and trying times ahead. I shouldered the main responsibility of the farm with Dill's help. Mother, my two older sisters, and the younger boys raised a garden which was always prolific, one of the best around if not the best; and that was not all she did. Here I quote Eunice - "Mother could read aloud better than anyone who ever lived. Oh, how she read to us "Dicken's" Scott's "Lady of the Lake", Shakespeare, MIA reading course books - anything we could lay our hands on. What many hours we all sat to hear Mother read. And how she loved to hike over all the hills and pick pinenuts with us. Her hands would be all covered with sticky gum. She raised us out at the loved "Canyon" home and made us very happy." The years following father's death were difficult to a degree but we were full of work and the family was happy. Summers were spent at the Canyon where grain, hay, potatoes, cattle, chickens and pigs were raised. Part of our farm was still protected by the old log fence, which had been constructed with considerable labor by our forbearers. The range cattle would find the weak spots and break into our fields and raise havoc. We would toggle it up. It would be a little better, then next thing they would be in again. I remember driving a range bull for more than a mile (on a moonlight night) to put him back up the Canyon. I had been in bed and asleep only a short time when I was awakened by mad bellering such as I never had heard before nor since. Immediately we were all up and peering over the garden fence to see two bulls in mortal combat, one pushed the other down and had him pinned under the bottom pole of the corral fence. He looked as if he would be gored to death. It really took courage to go out there in the middle of the night with a big club and drive the victor off, and again to go back and see if I could free the agonized bull from his fence trap. Dell went inside the corral to push on the critter and I, with great trepidation, grasped his tail and pulled with all my might, at the same time tensing my muscles ready to scale the pole fence should he turn on me. We finally got him dislodged. He stuck his tail between his legs and made a swift retreat bellowing as he went. We had problems with our hay harvest. Rabbits and deer were making such inroads in the haystack that we decided a barn was a must. Arrangements were made with Brother Marshall to get lumber from his mill which was located around six miles south of Hatch. With our wagon and team (a bay named Dick and old Rouse, a roan) I would get a shirt-tail of lumber at a time (a jag of about 500 feet). How well I remember the first trip I made. I camped overnight at the mill and as there was good grass, I trusted the horses to stay there, but in the morning they were gone. I don't know when I ever felt so bad. I finally found them down along the river almost to Hatch. With the help of my younger brother, we built most of the barn. When we got ready for the rafters, Uncle George came and helped us to get the right bevel on them. My schooling was scanty. I did attend Murdock Academy one year where my sisters Eunice and Agnes were. They got their teacher's certificates there and were very generous in their help with family finances. From time to time I worked on road construction with our team and scraper (a hand-made scoop). The road from the Bryce Canyon junction up to Red Canyon was the first one. Cedar Mountain road, near Duck Creek was another. One winter I drove a four-mule team for a road construction company in Nevada. We were able to dispose of potatoes quite readily, and so increased our acreage and this demanded an adequate storage place so our next project was to build a potato cellar. We designed one approximately 20 x 50 feet, having native stone walls and cedar post roof. The posts were covered with straw and then gravel. It is still in use. Lilith has asked me how we ever got those larger stones in place, and I wonder now. Our equipment was the team and lizard (planking nailed across poles which could be pulled by a team) plus manpower. One winter I went with Dimick Huntington, a successful trapper, on a trapping expedition on the Colorado River. We took a wooden boat (all precut) and assembled it on the river bank. Lon Fallis was the third party member. As to amassing a fortune - we did not; but had some interesting experiences. My church activities began early. I was in the Presidency in the Aaronic Priesthood quorums and a ward teacher. Then after Hillsdale Branch was transferred to Hatch Ward in 1924, I was asked to join the ward choir and be on the Ward recreation committee. I readily accepted since Lilith was already affiliated with both. In 1927, Bishop Barnhurst asked me out of the clear blue "Why don't you go a mission?" "I wish I could". Somehow I did, and to my mother and brothers and sisters who made this possible goes my everlasting gratitude. My mission was to Eastern Canada and many choice experiences still linger in my memory, and some not so choice, as this one: One day my companion and I were traveling in the country and were hot, dry, and dirty when we came upon a beautiful lake in the woods. With one accord we proceeded to disrobe and go for a swim, whereupon we discerned two men on the opposite side of the lake gesticulating and shouting wildly. Surmising that we were somehow in error, we hastened to don our clothing and go on our way. We had only proceeded a short distance when we came upon this sign: "St. John Municipal Water Supply." I wrote this choice experience to Lilith on stationery with Joseph Smith Farm pictures and letterhead " . . . You can easily guess where I am by the letterhead and I shall always count in a very great privilege to have been here. We stayed at the Cumorah Farm one night and last night at the Prophet's home where the first part of the Book of Mormon was translated and had the wonderful opportunity of sleeping in the Prophet's own bedroom where the Angel Moroni visited him. I haven't words to describe these experiences. We visited all of the places of interest here, including Hill Cumorah, Sacred Grove, etc. It has all been very wonderful, even more than I expected. Elder Comish and I are making this trip on the highway, and though it involved a lot of walking, we certainly felt well paid. Before we get back to Vermont, we will have traveled over 500 miles on this trip alone, via missionary special. For the past two months I have labored in Vermont and New Hampshire traveling almost the length and breadth of both states. My special work has been looking up old friends and saints who are so widely scattered that many of them have not been in contact with the church or missionaries for three or more years. During this time I have visited the Memorial Farm where the Prophet Joseph Smith was born. It was on the July 24 celebration and we had a wonderful time. It is one of the loveliest spots I was ever in and the Smith family living at the farm are my ideal of what a Mormon family ought to be. Of course they should be, for Brother Smith is a grandson of the Prophet's brother, Hyrum. Both Palmyra and the Smith farm in Vermont seem to hold some special appeal to missionaries, for among there many visitors they top the list." Extracts from missionary journal: "Monday, October 3rd, 1927 Arrived at missionary home about 9:30. Registered and was shown to room. Recd. physical exam which required about all forenoon. Lost about 5 to 8 dollars from clothes in the process. Attended meeting at 2 o'clock where we recd. very good instructions from Bro. LeRoy Snow. Went downtown and purchased a few articles of wearing apparel from Cutlers. Attended another good meeting at 8 o'clock p.m. "Tuesday, October 4th Two minutes late for devotional which was held at 7 a.m. Went to Salt Lake Temple at 8 a.m. where we (69 missionaries) went through Temple. Ate lunch at 3 p.m. at Hotel Utah Cafeteria (will know better next time). Came to room and wrote to Mother. Missionaries were all shown through Beehive House by lady in charge there. From there they went to YMIA Headquarters where they were instructed in MIA work by Sister Beesley. From MIA offices they proceeded to Mission home where they were given a class in English grammar (please note it hasn't taken affect yet). 6:15 dined at Whitehall Cafe. Attended night meeting, speaker David O. McKay. He talked on honesty, being true, and chastity. It was very good. Wednesday, October 5th Attended devotional at 7; conducted by Pres. leRoy Snow. He told us of missionary experiences and mistakes that other missionaries have made that we might profit by. Attended 9: o clock meeting. One speaker Adam S. Bennion on How We got the Bible. Visited down town for about 40 minutes. Went over to Deseret Gym with about 30 other Elders for exercises and basketball. This was part of regular schedules. Mark 84-25 Friday, October 7th First day of conference. Opening remarks by Pres. Heber J. Grant. Both meetings very good. Principal themes - appeal to church members to obey, honor and sustain the law. After meeting Sat. afternoon Ellis and I were taken by Bishop Barnhurst for an auto ride through the city. We also visited Liberty Park and from there were taken out to dinner by the Bishop. We also attended the concert given in the evening by the Tabernacle Choir. Tuesday, October 11 We were set apart for our missions today. We were also presented to the First Presidency and received some very good instructions from them. Thursday, October 13 The last class day at the Mission Home. Very fine class conducted by Bro. Melvin J. Ballard. Sub. D&C, Sec. 1. Other very fine classes, especially one on singing by Prof. Stephens and the last class of the course by Bro. David O. McKay. Friday 14 Day of departure to mission field. Spent most of day in preparation. Left S.L.C. at 9: p.m. on U. P. Saturday 15 & Sunday 16 Long, tiresome ride through Wyoming and Nebraska. Very interesting and new though. Beautiful country. Arrived in Chicago about 4:30 p.m. After almost two days and night on train. Did not have opportunity for much sightseeing in Chicago on 17 and 18. Left Chicago for Buffalo, N.Y. at 4:50. All night ride to Buffalo. Arrived in Buffalo at 7:30 Tuesday. Were met at station by gentleman who advised us to see Niagara Falls and go to Toronto from there. Went by street car line from Buffalo to Niagara Falls. Visited Falls and crossed bridge intending to go by bus to Toronto. Were stopped by Canadian Custom officials and after being thoroughly questioned were rejected and deported. Will follow instructions next time. Wednesday 19 Arose early to meet the rest of the company at the R.R. station. Went with them to Niagara and visited custom officer again (nothing doing). He advised us that our only chance was to appeal to Canadian Officer at Ottawa. We wrote to this officer, also to mission headquarters in Toronto. Also wired Bro. Harold G. Reynolds at S.L.C. and explaining our predicament and asking for instructions. Received reply directing us to missionaries in Buffalo and advising us that it might be necessary to remain in Buffalo a few days. Went out and located missionaries who proved to be two lady missionaries. Spent a very enjoyable evening with them. Thursday 20 Moved from Hotel Washington to rooming house on Huron St. Had a very enjoyable visit with Miss Bushman (one of the missionaries). Went to Bro. Chambers who is presiding Elder of Buffalo Branch. Had a piece of pie and with he and his family attended a joint session of the Relief Society and Priesthood. Enjoyed very much the fine spirit of the Saints here in Buffalo. Oh yes, received another wire this time from Canadian Mission asking for details why we were rejected. We had already given them all we could. Friday 21 Went down to Hotel Washington and learned that a message or call had come in. Prop. of Hotel supposed it to be a telegram. We spent about 4 hours trying to trace this message. Finally thinking it might be important and not being able to get any trace of it we wired to Canadian Mission telling them we didn't get the message and giving them our new address. We were invited to Chambers for supper and when we arrived, there was a letter awaiting us from Toronto telling us that they were working to get us into Canada and advising us to work with missionaries here meanwhile. Sunday October 23 Attended the Buffalo Branch Sunday School. Enjoyed it very much, especially the music. Were asked to go out in the country and administer to two of the Saints (ladies) who lived there. Found them anxiously waiting and glad to see us. Was impressed by the faith of these sisters. Were the guests of Bro. and Sister Anderson Sunday afternoon. Attended meeting in the evening where we were asked to speak. Enjoyed the meeting very well after we had finished speaking. Monday Oct 24 Went up to Chambers at 10:00 (no mail). Visited shipyards and other places of interest until 3: when we went out to Andersons by invitation. We spent the evening visiting Niagara Falls. The sight of these falls under the high power spotlights with there different color combinations, which are continually changing, is a sight never to be forgotten. Tuesday, November 8 Received a telephone call this morning from Pres. Hart. Told us he had written us about ten days ago. Sent my money and advised us to go and apply again to enter Canada. We went to post office and learned that this letter had been sent back to Toronto. We came back to our room and I called Pres. Hart. I learned that he had just recd. said letter and was sending it to me together with other letters from home. Hope to get through tomorrow. Wednesday, November 9 Did not get mail until three o'clock. Recd. letters OK. we were successful in getting through today. Were treated very well by custom officers. Conversed with them on Mormonism and promised to send them a Book of Mormon. Arrived in Toronto about 10:00 p.m. where we met Pres. Hart and a number of the elders. Stayed at mission home. Thursday, Nov. 10 Hurried to catch train. Rode all day through beautiful farming and timber country. Arrived in Montreal at 5:10 p.m. Left Montreal for St. John at 7:00 p.m. Rode all night through beautiful forests, woodlands, farming districts, etc. Friday 11 Morning finds us about halfway through Maine still in this same beautiful type of country. About 10:00 a.m. we cross into the Province of New Brunswick. Arrived at St. John at 11:45 a.m. Went immediately to the abode of Pres. Armstrong and companion. Recd. instructions from Pres. Armstrong. Saturday Nov. 12 Attended Priesthood meeting together with Elders. Elders Beecher, Purser and myself visited Sister Baun and were guests to her home for supper. Sunday Nov. 13 It was announced in Sunday School that Elders Beecher and Wilson would talk in the evening meeting. We (the four Elders) were the guests of Sister Baun again this afternoon for supper. Meeting was very good this evening. All four of us had a turn preaching. Monday Nov. 14 Left for Fredricton at 7:15 with Pres. Armstrong. Fredricton is about 65 miles up the St. John river. Were met at the station by Elders Grover and Durham. Tuesday, Nov. 15 Elder Durham left for St. John. I am staying in his place with Elder Grover. We came to Woodstock today to visit investigators. Rode up with our landlord and wife. Wednesday, Nov. 16 Walked out of Woodstock a mile or two on our way to ferry. Were picked up there by two gentlemen whom we rode with to said ferry. We gave them a brief history of our Church and told them what we believed in. Walked to ferry and shouted to ferryman on the other side. Succeeded in finding our friends, Mr. and Mrs. Fred Manuel without difficulty. Spent enjoyable evening with them. Thursday Nov. 17 Walked about 5 miles on the way to Fredericton arrived about 2:00. Were lucky to get a ride most of the way. Spent remainder of day getting a new boarding place and room. Moved to our new room on 279 Brunswick St. Monday 21 Nov. First real day of tracting. Had some interesting experiences and conversations. Met people who were very friendly, who were openly hostile, and all the way in between. Wednesday 23rd Recd. letter from mother yesterday. Spent forenoon in studying, afternoon in tracting. We had a fine visit with a Baptist Minister, left with him Book of Mormon and some pamphlets. Recd. letter from Dill tonight. Sunday Dec 4th Conference today. Had some fine meetings, Pres. Hart was principal speaker. He was somewhat disappointed in attendance. December From conference went to Fredericton, N.B. Labored in Fredricton for two weeks till holidays. Stayed at Mrs. Waterhouse's place. Spent time in tracting, visiting, studying, etc. Went to Saint John for holidays. Elder Grover went on to Halifax. The five of us elders, Armstrong, Durham, Purser, Beecher, and I were in Saint John for two weeks during holidays. Had some fine visits with saints, also fine meetings. Was privileged to speak in meetings twice during holidays. Ate Christmas dinner at Browns. January 1928 Came back to Fredericton with Elder Grover. Weather very cold. Did some tracting during January, some visiting, and more studying. Finished reading "Vitality of Mormonism", :The Exiles", "Saturday Night Thoughts" and "Book of Mormon". February Elder Grover was transferred to Nova Scotia and Elder Durham came up from Saint John to labor with me. Still cold but we were able to do some tracting. Also had some fine visits with friends. Spent a week in Woodstock and Lower Southhampton with friends. Enjoyed the trip very much and resolved to return again to Southhampton and hold some meetings with our friends there. Returned to Fredericton Tuesday, Feb. 14th. Have done some tracting since returning and a lot of studying. February 21 Plenty cold day. Recd. letter and check book from Dill today. Also letter from a girl friend. Had fine visit with elderly couple on Saint John Street. 22nd Spent most of day studying. Have read the D. and C. about five hours this evening. Made a visit to one of Elder Durham's friends and placed a Book of Mormon (Mr. Briggs). During the last six months of my mission I was District President, it is comparable to what Zone Leader is now. All during my mission there was a choice girl in my mind. I had a constant prayer in my mind that she would wait for me and, not only that but that she would have me when I returned. I was able to persuade her, and 32 years and 13 children later I look back on the happiest period of my life. The first time I remember seeing her she had ridden Old Teddy over to our Canyon home on an errand. Her brown hair was in two big braids, she had beautiful brown eyes and rosy cheeks and it came to me "She is the girl for me". Home from my mission in the fall of 1929, I did a lot of pondering about devising to increase my financial capabilities and finally settled upon the idea of a saw mill in Wilson Canyon. There was an old steam engine available near Monroe. We purchased it, dubbed it "Old Geronimo". Elliot Barney helped me drive it part way home as he had had previous experience with a steam engine. Don and Rulon helped by gathering wood in a pickup for fuel. We drove it all the way to Wilson Canyon by its own slow power. It took the better part of 2 weeks to come 80 miles. In the spring of 1930 Lilith was back from Dixie College, living at Grandview farm some four miles south of Wilson Canyon. It is remarkable how numerous and varied means were found to negotiate this short distance. Eight miles round trip, just a short little hike for the evening. To make a short story long, we were married in the Saint George Temple, April 22, 1931 on my birthday, so that I could remember when it occurred. The next four or five years were very happy ones. With my brothers, we had built a sawmill at Wilson Canyon and worked together as "Wilson Bros. Sawmill". Our little 2-room cabin was built with the first lumber we sawed. We first lived with my family at Wilson Canyon. That winter we spent with Lilith's folks at Hatch where Russell was born February 9, 1932. The next August we moved into our cabin sans doors and windows. Virginia and Lloyd were welcome to our family April 30, 1933, and July 27, 1935, both born in our cabin at Wilson Canyon. Our sawmill operation was fairly successful, but I had dreams of a bigger and more efficient sawmill located at Hatch. Lilith asked why I wanted to leave the Wilson Bros. Mill since it was adequately employing the Wilson Bros. My reply - "Just think of what a bigger mill would mean? How many more men could work and how much good would come of it?" At the end of this period (Spring of 1936) we moved to Hatch and initiated the building of a larger sawmill which has been the cause of much toil and tribulation, and the means of our livelihood, directly or indirectly, ever since. We called it Mammoth Lumber Co. It was a partnership with Jess Wilson, Pres.; B.H. Harrison, Secy.; Dill Wilson, Ellis Wilson, Elliot Barney, M.H. Barnhurst & Eldon L. Porter participating. With borrowed money, we obtained machinery from many sources - anyplace we could fine needed equipment. Boilers came from an old cheese factory in Logan. By summer of 1937 we were operating efficiently and had added a planer with shed and office and it looked like smooth sailing; then suddenly B.H. Harrison died of a heart attack and I was laid up with back trouble and went to Richfield for treatment. Can you imagine the impact when I was informed by a well-meaning friend, Ed Lewis, that Mammoth Lumber Co. had burned to the ground (July 7, 1939). All this is less than a week. But we were not liked. Some members pulled out. We reorganized with Eldon Porter, Ellis Wilson, Early Sawyer, Orlas Riggs, Wiley Huntington, John Barnhurst, John Meecham, Garth Heap and myself with L.L. Porter, Secretary. We got advice and a loan from the Church cooperative security Assn. to rebuild. Eldon and I set out to find the needed equipment; in Salt Lake City we were advised to go to Portland where good used sawmill machinery was available, so we drove straight through, taking turns driving day and night. By the time we reached Portland at nightfall on the second day, we were ready to turn in and stopped at the first motel we saw. We tumbled right into bed. In the middle of the night, we were awakened by a terrible shaking and siren shrieks. I immediately recognized it as an approaching train, but Eldon had never slept where one was an jumped wildly out of bed and with pants in hand said, "Jess, Jess get up and get out of here, that darned thing is going to run right over us". I restrained him as the freight train lumbered within a few feet of the door. Our slumbers were disturbed several more times that night. When morning came and we surveyed the situation, we found that a second railroad track was within two blocks of us. I now quote from a letter I wrote Lilith, "This morning have been negotiating with General Mach Co. with the aid of Pres. Bean of the Portland Stake. We are very pleased with the American #4 Mill and finished the deal. The freight will be cut in half by shipping with some Church Welfare stuff to Salt Lake City." The Church Welfare program supplied us with commodities to subsist upon. The men accepted a pittance of cash, what commodities they needed, and waited for the balance. Prices at that time were: flour $2.65 a 100, cereal 10 lb. for 35 cents, sugar 10 lbs for 65 cents; carrots and onions 1 cent per lb; canned goods 9 through 16 cents per can, except for red salmon and raspberries at 20 cents. One morning in 1948 a bombshell exploded. It was in the form of three men who "having authority" called at our home and when the door was opened in response to their knock, their leader in the form of Stake President A.L. Elmer, ignited the fuse thusly, "Well, there's no need of beating around the bush, we want you to be Bishop of the Hatch Ward". The next eleven years were spent between sawmill, livelihood, Bishop responsibilities, family life best part. By the end of this period all of our family were here -- all thirteen very choice people. At present we have four who have fulfilled missions, Russell, Virginia, Lloyd and Richard, with Wayne still in the field. Through all the struggles of raising a family, gaining a livelihood and sending children to school and on missions, it has been wonderful. Jess's history, either written or dictated by him ends here as he had increasing difficulty with speech, so I will add some: The lowest yearly payroll for all Mammoth Lumber Company employees after rebuilding was in 1941 -- $6,492.00. The highest in 1956, $62,200.00. This was the last year the sawmill operated. Crofts Pearson Industries persuaded Eldon that the thing to do was shut down Mammoth Lumber Co. sawmill and devote the entire time to logging. Jess very reluctantly went along (after Eldon proposed that he and Jess split their ownership and he take the logging equipment and Jess the sawmill). Eldon developed leukemia and had to retire. Prices for logging fell. Russell had back problems and Jess developed Parkinsons disease. So they sold the logging equipment to C.P.I., except for one cat, which we kept to use at Wilson Canyon. Jess spent 6 weeks in L.D.S. Hospital in the summer of 1970 to get experimental treatment for Parkinsonism with L-Dopa. It did help, but his health continued to deteriorate. Our love and appreciation for each other seemed to grow as his health declined. He was so chagrined and embarrassed over having to be helped so much; yet "eternally grateful" as he put it. The summer of 1971 and the building of the Cabin at Wilson Canyon was a memorable one for him. He often spoke of it and our happy days spent there together. Kent, Hugh, Karl, Robert and Carolyn all joined our missionary force. Church positions not already mentioned: Teacher for Priests, Adult Sunday School and M.I.A. classes, M.I.A. and Sunday School superintendent; Counselor in Stake High Priest Quorum, Chairman of Stake Genealogical Committee and Home Teacher. He was Garfield Co. G.O.P. delegate to the state convention several years; ran for State Legislature - missed by small margin. Soon after Garkane brought electricity to Hatch, he and Neil Clove spearheaded the Hatch Water System. He donated the land for the location of the well and storage tank. Our home already had a modern bathroom by installation of an electric pump in the well. It was the first one in town. Hobbies: Fishing, hunting, gardening, prospecting, singing, and playing the trumpet, Aaronic Priesthood outings and trips to basketball games at B.Y.U. He and his counselors were known as the "Singing Bishopric". He always assumed his rightful position as head of his family. He was firm yet loving and exceptionally appreciative. He would never allow any of his family to speak disrespectfully or cross to anyone, especially me. He was the easiest man in the world to cook for and was generous with his appreciation. Never once can I remember of him complaining about food. He liked whole wheat bread and would look at freshly baked loaves and say "What a beautiful sight" or "Isn't that a sight for sore eyes" or "What more could a man want." We even finished up the sauerkraut. He had a keen sense of humor, a sparkle in his eyes, and an unforgettable smile. He was a faithful Latter-Day Saint, devoted to L.D.S. principles and put church work first. When he became Bishop and was expected to be at Saturday meetings in Stake or Region, his boys lost their first-day fishing or hunting partner. He was always a sweetheart to me; remembered me with various gifts - sometimes a rock he had found while watering, some wild flowers; a new set of china, a new dress after new babies, a set of oak chairs which he said would last my lifetime; a watch, and a new wedding ring for "my sweetheart". For 46 years we were privileged to be together, raise our family with pride, joy and love. Outline of Talk Given by Jess Wilson in Father's Day Program in Sunday School "What My Son Means to Me" I have 8 sons, two who have filled missions, 2 priests, 1 teacher, and 1 deacon. Temptations of young men to miss Priesthood Recently my youngest son watched us as we filed out the door to go to Priesthood Meeting, and turning to his mother said, "Mom, when can I go to Priesthood with Dad?" What better reason could I have to live to be a good example? Recently another son handing me his report card said "Dad, here's my report card. It is bad again. What do you think is wrong with me - heredity or environment?" Heredity is established at birth. I feel that none of us would admit ours is not good. Environment we can do something about. I expect my sons to believe that they have both a good heritage and environment, and if environment is not just right, to do something about it. Marks on a report card can be controlled. We make our own. ONE OF EUNICE'S MEMORIES OF CHILDHOOD Our parents demanded obedience - they were quite strict with us. I remember the worst licking I ever got and I deserved it too. It was when we were living in that old house down there by the road. They were trying to get Jess to go outside for something. It was dark and he was scared. They just worked and worked and worked to get him to go outside. When he finally went to go out, I just went down on all fours and went crawling after him. Boy - that was the maddest father and mother ever were at me. He just screamed and ran. Oh - he was awful little. I guess maybe about four years old. I was three years older; if he was four that would make me seven. I know I was plenty big enough I should have known better.

Wellington Paul Wilson 1814

Contributor: hydrobrain Created: 3 years ago Updated: 3 years ago

WELLINGTON PAUL WILSON Wellington Paul Wilson, the son of Deliverance Wilson and Lovina Fairchild of Vermont and Ohio, was born 1 February 1814, near Burlington, Vermont. He came to Utah 4 October 1864 in the William Warren Company. Wellington married Elizabeth Boardman Smith on 13 December 1836 in Kirtland, Ohio. Elizabeth, born 27 January 1817, is the daughter of Ira and Philomela Smith. Ira was a pioneer in the William Warren Company and entered Utah 4 October 1864. Philomela came to Utah with her husband. She later married James Lake. Both Ira and Philomela were from Ontario, Canada. The children of Wellington and Elizabeth include: Stephen F. (b. 27 September 1837 who married Hester Brown and Sarah Jane Brown); Welling Paul (b. 28 October 1838, died); Sidney Smith (b. 7 December 1839; died 1909, who married Nancy Brisendine); Maryette (b. 18 September 1841; d. 1856); Elizabeth (b. 9 October 1832; died 1864); Clarissa Jane (b. 4 April 1848; d. 1864); Ira Lyman (b. 4 June 1852 who married Lavina Shurtliff and Roxey Ballard); Oliver Cowdery (b. 15 April 1855;died 1896 who married Anette Clifford); Joseph Ellis (b. 2 May 1858 who married Lerona A. Monroe Martin and Esther A. Ricks) The family resided in Ohio, Illinois, Iowa and Utah. Wellington married Rebecca McBride in 10 December 1846 in Nauvoo, Hancock, Illinois. Rebecca is the daughter of Amos Evans McBride and Kezia or Keriah McBride of Iowa and Grantsville, Utah. They were pioneers in the William Warren Company, entering Salt Lake Valley on 4 October 1864. Rebecca was born 14 April 1827/8 in Jackson, Wayne, Ohio and came to Utah with her husband. Their children were: Esther Evaline b. 25 August 1848, married Levi W. Hancock, Jr. ; Ellen, b. 2 November 1850, married Albert A. Steele; Martha, b. July 1852; d. 1864; Marcus, b. 26 February 1854 in Appanoose County, Iowa, died November 1864 in Grantsville, Tooele, Utah; Emma Catherine, b. 28 February 1856 in Valana, Monroe, Iowa; died 10 July 1900, who married Orrin Eleazar Burrus; Almera b. 25/8 March 1858 in Des Moines, Polk, Iowa, who married Elisha Freeman Hubbard; Fanny, b. 20 May 1864 in Monroe, Jasper, Iowa; died September 1864 Crossing the Plains to Utah; Lavina b. November 1861in Monroe, Jasper, Iowa; died October 1864 crossing the Plains to Utah; Grace b. 1864 in Monroe, Jasper, Iowa; died August 1865 in Monroe, Sevier, Utah; Dorcus Mabel Cassandra b. March 1866 in St. Thomas, Lincoln, Nevada; died 1866/7; Keziah Rebecca, b. 19 September 1868in St. Thomas, Lincoln, Nevada, married Jesse Stephen Wilson, died 14 July 1969, Richfield, Sevier, Utah. The family home was in Hillsdale, Garfield, Utah. Wellington was a missionary to New England 1869-1870. He settled St. Thomas, Nevada in 1865. He was a school teacher. Wellington died 29 May 1896.

Our Wilson pioneers : in celebration of the sesquicentennial year of the arrival.

Contributor: hydrobrain Created: 3 years ago Updated: 3 years ago

https://dcms.lds.org/delivery/DeliveryManagerServlet?dps_pid=IE225817&from=fhd I couldn't copy this whole 30 pages...so use the link to go there and start on page 143 You will find the following: CHAPTER FOUR WELLINGTON PAUL WILSON HISTORICAL SKETCHES IN THE LIFE OF WELLINGTON PAUL WILSON DRAWING OF LOG CABIN SCHOOL AND CHURCH A SHORT WILSON FAMILY HISTORY * EXCERPTS FROM THE HISTORY OF HATCH * UNCLE WELLINGTON PAUL AND AUNT REBECCA * LETTERS OF W. P. WILSON * POEMS BY W. P. WILSON * BLESSINGS OF W. P. WILSON AND HIS PARENTS * TRAIL OF TEARS CHART * OBITUARY

Letter by Wellington Wilson from Kirtland to his sister Hannah Wilson Wait in Vermont

Contributor: hydrobrain Created: 3 years ago Updated: 3 years ago

This letter was converted from a pdf stored in the Church History Library in Salt Lake. I tried to keep the spelling and punctuation as close as possible to the pdf version typewritten by Eunice Wilson Cope. There are some gaps where the handwriting must have not been legible. Letters by George, Deliverance and Lavina have been posted under their names. Original letters were obtained about 1960 by Eunice Wilson Cope (Granddaughter of George Deliverance and Wellington Paul Wilson) from Mrs. Frank Shaw, 281 Avis Street, Rochester, H.Y. (a granddaughter of Hannah Wilson Waite and Edmund Wait). She sold them to Mrs. Cope for $10 after they had corresponded with each other and shared genealogical information. The following are from her typewritten copies of the letters. It is unknown where the originals are now except for one letter which is in possession of Richard S. Wilson, 608 Gyr Falcon Drive, Norman, OK 73071.) Kirtland letters written 1835 and 1836 to Edmund and Hannah Wilson Wait living in St. Albans, Vermont Now I Paul write somewhat as seemeth me good. I need not repeat what has been said lest you should think it __________but I want to descend to descend to particulars on some points more than have seen mentioned. With regards to our journey, we took steamboat Oswego at Ogdensburg passage for Lewistown--we had the best accommodations the lower deck afforded, which was beyond all others (passengers below, normally). We outroad a heavy gale and encountered uncommon rough seas and such sea sickness and puking all over deck. Dreadful. However we landed at Rochester the 2 Sunday eve. I forgot to say our steamer cabin the night we lay at Oswego, filled twice with water to the depth of 12-20 inches. From Rochester to Batavia, a distance of 30 mi .26 of which is beautiful beyond measure. There is not one half acre of land but would be plowed in Vermont. Such wheat, fruit &c &c you never saw. Wheat I saw, I mean piles of straw. Came to Buffalo 100 mi., transferred on lake shore (Erie) near 200 mi. and arrived Kirtland. This also is a fine country, rather uneven just here. I mean the western Reserve, but I have not seen so much hedge as (put it all together) we saw in Jackson, since we left Rochester N.Y. I have been in town principally. The fartherest I have been is to Portage Co. south 90-100 miles. There has been no snow of consequence here we had some little most of the time -- few storms fell, 12-19 inch, soon settled. This is a more healthy climate than "Down East", I have beard of but three deaths (with one infant) in town, which for the number of inhabitants, you would think singular. The country here is rather new, land is good, and wild land-well turned, no hemlock or pine just here. White wood answers to pine. Oak, .hickory, chestnut which "shack" in abundance. Oliver, Eliza & Henry would like to just get over the fence and pick up sweet meal nuts and chestnuts, which they could gather bushels in a day, especially after (in the fall) hard winds. Frost grapes in abundance in our snow months, after running 2-3 rods on ground, grow right up the distance of 60 to 80 or 100 feet, the size of large cable rope and spread in the tree top (the maple trees) (growing 6- 8 or 10 ft.) from the tree never touch anything till they reach the limbs and spread frequently from' one tree top to another, playing their beautiful blue and crimson clusters of sweet luxuriance, tempting our longing eyes. But you see the fox must jump in vain and call them sour. Land is dear, whole farms from 30 to 50 $ per acre on __________ clean land near and in town centers &c. I have much to write and little room, but I expect to start for Vt.in May if &c. George will probably return and go with me or I with him. As for Mormonism, be not deceived, they are on tenable grounds. They have the gifts, grace and faith which they pretend & they too have the strength of the argument, which is the force of truth. They don’t make much account of miracles, they have so much to do and think of and they (miracles) are so common. Crowds of witnesses might and do testify & I have seen enough and if that were not sufficient, I might say I have felt enough to convince an honest man that it is a reality; have experienced the healing power by the laying on of hands and what I know I will not deny. I am he that was mentioned above and do testify to what I have seen and felt, but I need not repeat what is stated only to say 'tis true for I am he. Wherefore wonder not that I embrace such a faith & if I go to the East, I will testify. Let the world say or do what it will. It always was and is opposed to God s truth. I cannot enter into an exposition of Doctrine and principles & proofs &c. but the fullness of the Gospel and the renewal of the covenant have come forth and there are those who will embrace it & who will not. Better than 70 in this town and vicinity, week before last, were baptized for the remission of sins and joined the church and every week brings in more or less, and might say every day, for the river is kept open all winter. They (the Church) are not the dregs of __________ & the _________of the community. They are neat, industrious, intelligent and good society -- about 100 meet in temple Sabbath Days. They have good schools & a literal Hebrew teacher of all languages, especially another tongue which he teaches in 6 weeks. Wellington Wilson

Life timeline of Wellington Paul Wilson

1814
Wellington Paul Wilson was born in 1814
Wellington Paul Wilson was 11 years old when The Erie Canal opens: Passage from Albany, New York to Lake Erie. The Erie Canal is a canal in New York, United States that is part of the east–west, cross-state route of the New York State Canal System. Originally, it ran 363 miles (584 km) from where Albany meets the Hudson River to where Buffalo meets Lake Erie. It was built to create a navigable water route from New York City and the Atlantic Ocean to the Great Lakes. When completed in 1825, it was the second longest canal in the world and greatly affected the development and economy of New York, New York City, and the United States.
Wellington Paul Wilson was 17 years old when Charles Darwin embarks on his journey aboard HMS Beagle, during which he will begin to formulate his theory of evolution. Charles Robert Darwin, was an English naturalist, geologist and biologist, best known for his contributions to the science of evolution. He established that all species of life have descended over time from common ancestors and, in a joint publication with Alfred Russel Wallace, introduced his scientific theory that this branching pattern of evolution resulted from a process that he called natural selection, in which the struggle for existence has a similar effect to the artificial selection involved in selective breeding.
Wellington Paul Wilson was 26 years old when Samuel Morse receives the patent for the telegraph. Samuel Finley Breese Morse was an American painter and inventor. After having established his reputation as a portrait painter, in his middle age Morse contributed to the invention of a single-wire telegraph system based on European telegraphs. He was a co-developer of the Morse code and helped to develop the commercial use of telegraphy.
Wellington Paul Wilson was 45 years old when Petroleum is discovered in Titusville, Pennsylvania leading to the world's first commercially successful oil well. Petroleum is a naturally occurring, yellow-to-black liquid found in geological formations beneath the Earth's surface. It is commonly refined into various types of fuels. Components of petroleum are separated using a technique called fractional distillation, i.e. separation of a liquid mixture into fractions differing in boiling point by means of distillation, typically using a fractionating column.
Wellington Paul Wilson was 46 years old when Abraham Lincoln is elected as the 16th President of United States. Abraham Lincoln was an American statesman and lawyer who served as the 16th President of the United States from March 1861 until his assassination in April 1865. Lincoln led the United States through the American Civil War—its bloodiest war and perhaps its greatest moral, constitutional, and political crisis. In doing so, he preserved the Union, abolished slavery, strengthened the federal government, and modernized the economy.
Wellington Paul Wilson was 65 years old when Thomas Edison demonstrates incandescent lighting to the public for the first time, in Menlo Park, New Jersey. Thomas Alva Edison was an American inventor and businessman, who has been described as America's greatest inventor. He developed many devices that greatly influenced life around the world, including the phonograph, the motion picture camera, and the long-lasting, practical electric light bulb. Dubbed "The Wizard of Menlo Park", he was one of the first inventors to apply the principles of mass production and large-scale teamwork to the process of invention, and is often credited with the creation of the first industrial research laboratory.
Wellington Paul Wilson was 67 years old when The world's first international telephone call is made between St. Stephen, New Brunswick, Canada, and Calais, Maine, United States. A telephone call is a connection over a telephone network between the called party and the calling party.
Wellington Paul Wilson died in 1896 at the age of 82
BillionGraves.com
Grave record for Wellington Paul Wilson (1814 - 1896), BillionGraves Record 15186263 Panguitch, Garfield, Utah, United States

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