With all the Halloween stuff out, houses trimmed and the lights aglow with ghosts and gobblins, I couldn't help but think about how different it is now than: "way back when". I don't remember our having anything outside of school until after we moved to Belgrave Avenue in 1938. Then the kids in the neighborhood talked about "trick or treat". As I recall, there was a lot more planning than there was participation by the general population. Decorations, none. Even pumpkins were not out at every door like we have today.
When we did find a house that had something to share with the kids, it was usually something they had around the house. Cookies, apples, oranges sometimes even a pennie. They were few and far between. I don't think we did much tricking, but some of the older boys got nasty and soaped a few windows when they didn't get something.
Costumes were made up from what we could find around the house. A lot of bums, old ladies, etc. Wouldn't have found much help in any of the stores. They just didn't do those things back then. You have to realize it was the ending of the Depression and money was not used for things that weren't useful past one wearing. We didn't miss it because it just wasn't part of the norm for the time we were kids.
I think the place I noticed the most excitement about Halloween was when I lived in Utah. They seem to go all out for it there in a very big way. Lots of houses decorate up nearly as much as they do for Christmas. String orange lights and have scenes on their lawns. More and more it seems to spread around, but it still doesn't meet the high standards here in California that it has reached in the State of Utah.
It is sad to me that something that is so Kid oriented has been turned into a time when parents have to be so careful because of a few "nut cases" that would do harm to children having such a wonderfully clean and wholesom run in the community. I am greatful for the Church and the way they have planned things that will give the kids a safe way to enjoy Halloween. Putting the Wards together to make it more fun is even better. Costumes can be such fun and they don't need masks to make them expressive of what the individual wants to pretend for the social activity. It seems to be a time when parents are ready to take the small ones out and let them
meet neighbors and have a good experience at the same time.
The little ones are so darn cute in their costumes, and so shy when they first have a Halloween.
A shame the older kids can't control their "free spirits" better. I am sorry to see so many good
pumpkins smashed in the streets, just for a lark. I guess there are some things that just have to be excused in the face of the excitement of all the activity and hipe that goes with such a time.
Anyway - Halloween has grown into quite a different time than when I was younger. I have seen it become so much more than it was "way back when". Not that I think it is all that bad, it
is just that it seems so much is crammed into so little time from the end of October till the end of December. Then it isn't something that could be changed seeings it has to do with Harvest time
and all. Nothing like the smell of Hot Apple Cider and cinnamon cookies or donuts. Of course there is bobbing for apples too.
How fortunate I am to have lived at a time when I have been able to witness the growth of things that make the life of children so enjoyable. To have been a and watched my children participate in such fun things and then set back and enjoy grand-children and now great -grand-children thrill to the excitement that Halloween brings. Just remember - too much candy isn't good for your teeth, and can keep you from feeling ready for the good food we all need to grow into healthy and happy families - because we do know that OUR FAMILY IS FOREVER! I love you each and everyone!
Writtne this 28th day of October 2009
by: Eileen C. Rosenberg
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Pictures and Genealogy
I just received a new disc from my brother Ron today and have been , thanks to the help I got from Nemiha, putting them on our Family Records. I never knew just how they would bring back so many memories for me. You know the family left the East when I was just 6 years old. Mom and I went back for a visit in 1938 and that was the last time I saw the family all
together. A couple of Moms brothers came to California a few times, but I was much older,
and wasn't around when they were visiting. They stayed with Uncle Bill in South Gate.
I thought it might give you some insight into some of the individuals when you look at their pictures as you never met any of them.
Uncle Daniel Luther Hall - was a potter by trade and raised prize Chickens and was a Chicken Judge at the Fairs in Ohio. The oldest of the Hall Family, he carried a pretty heavy load when
James Madison Hall deserted the family in 1902. He married and had a large family of his own.
Uncle Simon Clarence Hall - was a potter by trade but was also a business man. Had trained as
a bookkeeper and had a lovely handwritting. Back then, men were the clerks, etc. and needed to be able to write a fine hand. He owned his own market for some years and was a good butcher
as well. His wife Bertha was a large raw-boned women. She was sweet and a delight to be around. She worked in the store with Uncle Simon so they had Auth Lib come and keep house for them and care for their children while they were at the store. Made a lovely home for Aunt Lib who was the younger sister of Grandma Hall.
Eunice May Hall married Ode McKinzie. She knew the family was poor, so planned a wedding that would not make things hard for them. I didn't know Aunt Eunice well. She was so much older than Mom. We visited their home, where I learned to love the family. Aunt Eunice was a large boned lady, a great cook, and very neat house keeper.
Martha Olive Hall married Harry Ellsworth Akins. She was a small woman with very narrow feet. I know that because Mom use to have to wear her hand-me-down shoes and Mom had a
Medium width foot. She developed corns on her toes from wearing Olive's shoes. There were always a great many things the family had to do to make sure everyone had what was needed.
Olive had a hard life. Her oldest daughter died as a teen ager, and her second daughter was
crippled with Polio. They had three brothers who I am sad to say were very mean to Grace. She wore braces and was very deformed from the illness. I never met anyone who was more lovely in spirit than Grace.
William James Hall had to be about the best. He married twice and I loved both of his wives. His first Naomi was a lovely lady. She was a great cook and house keeper. She could peel a potato so the skins were almost transparent. Mom said she was so jealous of Bill that is why their marriage never lasted. I suppose not being able to have children was a great sorrow to her. She never remarried and I believe she loved Bill until the day she died. His second wife Clara moved with him to California where they worked in the Potteries. They married shortly after they arrived in California. They bought a home in South Gate, CA where she raised her "dogs" and he raised his Banty Chickens. He was a Chicken Judge and was President of the Chicken Judges Association. He was well know and liked. He made all the major Fairs in California. He became our seragate dad when ours was killed. He was always there for us kids, and we loved having him with us on Holidays. He and Mom were very close.
Oliver Edward "Dick" Hall was the handsome one of the family. Mom said he didn't have to chase the girls they wouldn't leave him alone. She wondered how his wife put up with it for so many years. I guess that is what true love is, long suffering. They had a family of boys. The only daughter they had was killed when she was small when she was struck by a car.
John Richard Hall was the last son in the family. He was a potter as well. I never knew him too well. He moved with his wife and son to California and we saw them a few times, but they did not make that many visits and I was surprised they didn't keep in touch with Mom or Uncle Bill all that much. The Son was quite a business man. In an out of one thing and then another. I don't believe that is why they called him Jack instead of John, but then what do I know?
Uncle John's wife was a frail little thing and not very out going. I thought she was very attractive, but not near as easy to get to know and love as the others.
Mom was the baby of the family and she could hardly have been known as spoiled. It was always her lot to remember not to upset their mother. The effects of that left some pretty big emotional scars on Mom. Ones I was not aware of until I became much older. She resented not having a Dad like other kids.
Lets see: Luther was 14 when their Dad left the family. Simon was 13, Eunice was 11, Olive was 10, Bill was 8, John was 3 and Mom was 9 months old. Luther and Simon became the bread winners in the family. Luther worked in the Potteries and Simon went around the farms as a day laborer. Slept in barns and was paid a small amount plus his food. Every extra pennie he had he sent home to help the family. When Grandma opened a boarding house, Eunice, Olive and Mom had to help with the household chores as well as cooking. When Grandma was out on a nursing case, they were totally in charge of keeping things going.
In my day the way parents tried to keep their children in line, they told stories about how far they walked to school in the snow. When we were kids, our parents had to do little but rehearse their lives. Mom with hers and Dad with his coming from England where things were pretty great, only to find a Step-mother who wasn't the nicest person in town and a Dad who worked hard just to keep things together. Both my parents had to go to work when they were very young. I'm not sure about Dad, but I know Mom went into the Pottery when she was 12 or 13.
I knew all these people. They were brought up with great strenghts. They were bound together in a family unit that took care of each other, but mostly kept appearances up to shore up their
Mother who had been so badly treated by the man she loved and trusted.
A heritage is pretty special, especially when we can look back and see how far we have come. I had a pretty well matched set of parents. They found each other at a time when things were just moving forward following the War to end all wars. The First World War. Things were suppose to be better, but the hard times were not yet over. It would take another War and sending their sons off to fight before their fortunes would turn out better.
When doing without was the norm and stretching what little was had to go all the way around was behind them, they were still frugal and never bought on credit. If they did not have the cash, they could wait. I don't believe we kids ever knew just how much they did for us. I know we were not demanding, because no one we knew had anything more than what we had. I had wished many a time I could have a bought dress rather than one that was home made, but it
was never a big deal. I always had plenty.
I guess what I am trying to put down here is I came from a pretty amazing family. They never gave up trying to find their Dad. They never did. It was only after 95 years that the truth of
where James Madison Hall/Eaton left that the threads of the fabric were knit back together.
I am sorry the family did not realize they were within a stones throw of him most of the time.
They were pretty sure he had changed is name, but had no idea where he was. Thank goodness for a cousin who wanted to know more about her Grand Father that she started doing Genealogy. In a wild chance, she sent a letter to every "J" Rosenberg she found in Califronia.
There were 9. Bingo she found me, and I have been able to piece together from my side what they needed for their side. We have joined into an extended family and keep in touch with each other. Ron and I made a trip for a mini reunion with most of the family in Canada. What a neat trip that turned out to be. We were offically adopted by the Eatons. Since then I have learned
that Eaton is really the family name and not Hall. Not that it changes anything, but it does answer a great deal of the questions I had. So really, what is in a name? I am still trying to find out.
Written this 24th day of October 2009
by: Eileen Charmaine Smith Rosenberg
together. A couple of Moms brothers came to California a few times, but I was much older,
and wasn't around when they were visiting. They stayed with Uncle Bill in South Gate.
I thought it might give you some insight into some of the individuals when you look at their pictures as you never met any of them.
Uncle Daniel Luther Hall - was a potter by trade and raised prize Chickens and was a Chicken Judge at the Fairs in Ohio. The oldest of the Hall Family, he carried a pretty heavy load when
James Madison Hall deserted the family in 1902. He married and had a large family of his own.
Uncle Simon Clarence Hall - was a potter by trade but was also a business man. Had trained as
a bookkeeper and had a lovely handwritting. Back then, men were the clerks, etc. and needed to be able to write a fine hand. He owned his own market for some years and was a good butcher
as well. His wife Bertha was a large raw-boned women. She was sweet and a delight to be around. She worked in the store with Uncle Simon so they had Auth Lib come and keep house for them and care for their children while they were at the store. Made a lovely home for Aunt Lib who was the younger sister of Grandma Hall.
Eunice May Hall married Ode McKinzie. She knew the family was poor, so planned a wedding that would not make things hard for them. I didn't know Aunt Eunice well. She was so much older than Mom. We visited their home, where I learned to love the family. Aunt Eunice was a large boned lady, a great cook, and very neat house keeper.
Martha Olive Hall married Harry Ellsworth Akins. She was a small woman with very narrow feet. I know that because Mom use to have to wear her hand-me-down shoes and Mom had a
Medium width foot. She developed corns on her toes from wearing Olive's shoes. There were always a great many things the family had to do to make sure everyone had what was needed.
Olive had a hard life. Her oldest daughter died as a teen ager, and her second daughter was
crippled with Polio. They had three brothers who I am sad to say were very mean to Grace. She wore braces and was very deformed from the illness. I never met anyone who was more lovely in spirit than Grace.
William James Hall had to be about the best. He married twice and I loved both of his wives. His first Naomi was a lovely lady. She was a great cook and house keeper. She could peel a potato so the skins were almost transparent. Mom said she was so jealous of Bill that is why their marriage never lasted. I suppose not being able to have children was a great sorrow to her. She never remarried and I believe she loved Bill until the day she died. His second wife Clara moved with him to California where they worked in the Potteries. They married shortly after they arrived in California. They bought a home in South Gate, CA where she raised her "dogs" and he raised his Banty Chickens. He was a Chicken Judge and was President of the Chicken Judges Association. He was well know and liked. He made all the major Fairs in California. He became our seragate dad when ours was killed. He was always there for us kids, and we loved having him with us on Holidays. He and Mom were very close.
Oliver Edward "Dick" Hall was the handsome one of the family. Mom said he didn't have to chase the girls they wouldn't leave him alone. She wondered how his wife put up with it for so many years. I guess that is what true love is, long suffering. They had a family of boys. The only daughter they had was killed when she was small when she was struck by a car.
John Richard Hall was the last son in the family. He was a potter as well. I never knew him too well. He moved with his wife and son to California and we saw them a few times, but they did not make that many visits and I was surprised they didn't keep in touch with Mom or Uncle Bill all that much. The Son was quite a business man. In an out of one thing and then another. I don't believe that is why they called him Jack instead of John, but then what do I know?
Uncle John's wife was a frail little thing and not very out going. I thought she was very attractive, but not near as easy to get to know and love as the others.
Mom was the baby of the family and she could hardly have been known as spoiled. It was always her lot to remember not to upset their mother. The effects of that left some pretty big emotional scars on Mom. Ones I was not aware of until I became much older. She resented not having a Dad like other kids.
Lets see: Luther was 14 when their Dad left the family. Simon was 13, Eunice was 11, Olive was 10, Bill was 8, John was 3 and Mom was 9 months old. Luther and Simon became the bread winners in the family. Luther worked in the Potteries and Simon went around the farms as a day laborer. Slept in barns and was paid a small amount plus his food. Every extra pennie he had he sent home to help the family. When Grandma opened a boarding house, Eunice, Olive and Mom had to help with the household chores as well as cooking. When Grandma was out on a nursing case, they were totally in charge of keeping things going.
In my day the way parents tried to keep their children in line, they told stories about how far they walked to school in the snow. When we were kids, our parents had to do little but rehearse their lives. Mom with hers and Dad with his coming from England where things were pretty great, only to find a Step-mother who wasn't the nicest person in town and a Dad who worked hard just to keep things together. Both my parents had to go to work when they were very young. I'm not sure about Dad, but I know Mom went into the Pottery when she was 12 or 13.
I knew all these people. They were brought up with great strenghts. They were bound together in a family unit that took care of each other, but mostly kept appearances up to shore up their
Mother who had been so badly treated by the man she loved and trusted.
A heritage is pretty special, especially when we can look back and see how far we have come. I had a pretty well matched set of parents. They found each other at a time when things were just moving forward following the War to end all wars. The First World War. Things were suppose to be better, but the hard times were not yet over. It would take another War and sending their sons off to fight before their fortunes would turn out better.
When doing without was the norm and stretching what little was had to go all the way around was behind them, they were still frugal and never bought on credit. If they did not have the cash, they could wait. I don't believe we kids ever knew just how much they did for us. I know we were not demanding, because no one we knew had anything more than what we had. I had wished many a time I could have a bought dress rather than one that was home made, but it
was never a big deal. I always had plenty.
I guess what I am trying to put down here is I came from a pretty amazing family. They never gave up trying to find their Dad. They never did. It was only after 95 years that the truth of
where James Madison Hall/Eaton left that the threads of the fabric were knit back together.
I am sorry the family did not realize they were within a stones throw of him most of the time.
They were pretty sure he had changed is name, but had no idea where he was. Thank goodness for a cousin who wanted to know more about her Grand Father that she started doing Genealogy. In a wild chance, she sent a letter to every "J" Rosenberg she found in Califronia.
There were 9. Bingo she found me, and I have been able to piece together from my side what they needed for their side. We have joined into an extended family and keep in touch with each other. Ron and I made a trip for a mini reunion with most of the family in Canada. What a neat trip that turned out to be. We were offically adopted by the Eatons. Since then I have learned
that Eaton is really the family name and not Hall. Not that it changes anything, but it does answer a great deal of the questions I had. So really, what is in a name? I am still trying to find out.
Written this 24th day of October 2009
by: Eileen Charmaine Smith Rosenberg
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
School Days, School Days, Ah! How I Remember
Funny how one small thing brings to mind something you haven't thought of in years. At dear old Pacific Blvd. Elementary School we had "hall monitors". The whole idea was to make sure the kids went to class. The one picked to be a "hall monitor" had to be pretty reliable. When the Teacher singled you out, you were given the "arm band". How exciting. It was a brass cirlce with a blue bell in the center and the title around the outside edge. You put it on your right arm and strapped it down with a blue band that had a safety buckle to keep it on tight. Well if you had a blouse that had shorter sleeves, the darn thing would turn your arm green. A small price to pay, however, for being the chosen one to keep the halls cleared after the bell had rung.
I don't remember what the time such an honor was held, but I know it was a real "big thing" to be able to put that arm band on and wear it all day. I am not sure it struck fear into the hearts of any of the other kids, but it sure made the wearer pretty proud.
Of course in Elementary School we didn't change classes, so the duty was limited to the First Bell to start the day and the one that signaled the end of the Lunch Period, oh, and the Playground time too. There was one of those in the morning and again in the afternoon. From First Grade to the Sixth Grade there weren't a lot of kids who hung around longer than allowed. We did not have Kindergarten back then in the School District. Surprisingly most of the kids were pretty good at coming on time and moving when the bells sounded to commence classes again.
We didn't have a Cafeteria at the School either. No one lived close enough to go home, so it was
either a brown bag, or lunchpale. How I hated that. I have never been a sandwich eater, and I
thought the stale smell of the lunchpale was disgusting. No matter how much Mom would wash
and air it, it always seemed to smell awful!
Back in those days, they didn't have a lot of the dessert items that are common today. Mom would bake cookies, but I found the "waxed paper" wasn't a very good protecter for them. Most of the time they were reduced to crumbs from being swung around in the lunchpale. I doubt a brown bag would have been much of an improvement. Yes, back in those good old days there were no sandwich bags or plastic wrap. We had Waxed Paper, and it was good for keeping out
moisture, but stiff and not very good for keeping things in any kind or original shape.
Then there was the sad deal of a piece of Mom's pie. There was a real mess for you. A lot of licking went into finishing up lunch. Well, it tasted good, but left a lot to be desired in the visual department .
Apples were treated carefully, but still got bruised and bananas, well that was a whole other thing. An orange ment getting juice all over you. Back then there were no neat little plastic boxes to cut the fruit up and keep it contained until lunch time. Oranges and bananas had to be peeled before consuming and and apple well bite by bite it had to be eaten. The small thermose always had milk. I believe I have already told about the day I tried to take Root Beer. What a disaster that was.
There were no book bags back then either. All the books were carefully piled on a notebook and balanced while walking to and from School. Of course there was one arm for that while the other was occupied with that lunchpale. As I recall there was a great deal of shifthing, arm to hand and back again. It was quite a long walk. Everyone did it, there was no bus service, and there were no two car families. In fact there were few cars period.
Amazing we survivied. Walking in the heat before Summer and during the bad and wet weather in the winter. We were a pretty healthy lot back then. Either we were hearty or so use to the dirt and fresh air, we didn't get over taken by the germs surrounding us. Then again when I think of it, Mom fixed breakfast for us which was always wholesome and everyone sat down at the dinner table together and ate a well balanced meal. It might not have been fancy, but it was cooked well, and balanced to the best of what was known at the time. We rarely had anything but water or milk to drink. Those were the days before all the "extras" of life were around.
Well, we did have the "Good Humor" man who drove the Ice Cream truck around the neighborhood with his bells a chiming. Not everytime he came around, but once in awhile, there was enough change in the household to have a treat of an ice cream bar. They were only ten cents a piece, but with three of us kids, that was thirty cents, and there were many a week that amount of money was needed to buy a quart of milk and a loaf of bread for the family.
Were they hard times? I don't believe so. We didn't know anything else. A treat was a treat, and we all knew they were not something we got all that often. The folks were always so giving that when No was the answer, we didn't argue. Hearing Mom and Dad take council at the end of the week as how much they still had before payday, we were pretty aware of how things were.
Gosh, it is fun to remember then. I am so sorry for the children today. They may never really know how much fun can be had with so little. I know they will never appreciate their parents more than we did. As a family we were close and worked together. No dishwasher. We took turns washing or drying. Setting the table or clearing things away after the evening meal was something we just did. No TV and for sometime not even a radio. We had friends and playing in the street or over the various yards of the neighborhood was our turf.
How fortunate that we had all ages to mingle with. The older ones took care of the smaller kids and no one thought anything about it. No Little League or Pop Warner. Vacant lots were the ball fields and every age and size was included. Teams were divided off among those who were
available. Not everyone had a ball, so the lucky one was willing to share. Yes, we were lucky in a lot of ways. It just takes time to set and think back to realize that those were the best of times and imagination was used continually to make up games and fun times. I guess that is when we learned that is was not what you had but what you did with what you had that was important. We may not have had much, but we did have each other, and I am so greatful for that.
Written this 21st day of October 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
I don't remember what the time such an honor was held, but I know it was a real "big thing" to be able to put that arm band on and wear it all day. I am not sure it struck fear into the hearts of any of the other kids, but it sure made the wearer pretty proud.
Of course in Elementary School we didn't change classes, so the duty was limited to the First Bell to start the day and the one that signaled the end of the Lunch Period, oh, and the Playground time too. There was one of those in the morning and again in the afternoon. From First Grade to the Sixth Grade there weren't a lot of kids who hung around longer than allowed. We did not have Kindergarten back then in the School District. Surprisingly most of the kids were pretty good at coming on time and moving when the bells sounded to commence classes again.
We didn't have a Cafeteria at the School either. No one lived close enough to go home, so it was
either a brown bag, or lunchpale. How I hated that. I have never been a sandwich eater, and I
thought the stale smell of the lunchpale was disgusting. No matter how much Mom would wash
and air it, it always seemed to smell awful!
Back in those days, they didn't have a lot of the dessert items that are common today. Mom would bake cookies, but I found the "waxed paper" wasn't a very good protecter for them. Most of the time they were reduced to crumbs from being swung around in the lunchpale. I doubt a brown bag would have been much of an improvement. Yes, back in those good old days there were no sandwich bags or plastic wrap. We had Waxed Paper, and it was good for keeping out
moisture, but stiff and not very good for keeping things in any kind or original shape.
Then there was the sad deal of a piece of Mom's pie. There was a real mess for you. A lot of licking went into finishing up lunch. Well, it tasted good, but left a lot to be desired in the visual department .
Apples were treated carefully, but still got bruised and bananas, well that was a whole other thing. An orange ment getting juice all over you. Back then there were no neat little plastic boxes to cut the fruit up and keep it contained until lunch time. Oranges and bananas had to be peeled before consuming and and apple well bite by bite it had to be eaten. The small thermose always had milk. I believe I have already told about the day I tried to take Root Beer. What a disaster that was.
There were no book bags back then either. All the books were carefully piled on a notebook and balanced while walking to and from School. Of course there was one arm for that while the other was occupied with that lunchpale. As I recall there was a great deal of shifthing, arm to hand and back again. It was quite a long walk. Everyone did it, there was no bus service, and there were no two car families. In fact there were few cars period.
Amazing we survivied. Walking in the heat before Summer and during the bad and wet weather in the winter. We were a pretty healthy lot back then. Either we were hearty or so use to the dirt and fresh air, we didn't get over taken by the germs surrounding us. Then again when I think of it, Mom fixed breakfast for us which was always wholesome and everyone sat down at the dinner table together and ate a well balanced meal. It might not have been fancy, but it was cooked well, and balanced to the best of what was known at the time. We rarely had anything but water or milk to drink. Those were the days before all the "extras" of life were around.
Well, we did have the "Good Humor" man who drove the Ice Cream truck around the neighborhood with his bells a chiming. Not everytime he came around, but once in awhile, there was enough change in the household to have a treat of an ice cream bar. They were only ten cents a piece, but with three of us kids, that was thirty cents, and there were many a week that amount of money was needed to buy a quart of milk and a loaf of bread for the family.
Were they hard times? I don't believe so. We didn't know anything else. A treat was a treat, and we all knew they were not something we got all that often. The folks were always so giving that when No was the answer, we didn't argue. Hearing Mom and Dad take council at the end of the week as how much they still had before payday, we were pretty aware of how things were.
Gosh, it is fun to remember then. I am so sorry for the children today. They may never really know how much fun can be had with so little. I know they will never appreciate their parents more than we did. As a family we were close and worked together. No dishwasher. We took turns washing or drying. Setting the table or clearing things away after the evening meal was something we just did. No TV and for sometime not even a radio. We had friends and playing in the street or over the various yards of the neighborhood was our turf.
How fortunate that we had all ages to mingle with. The older ones took care of the smaller kids and no one thought anything about it. No Little League or Pop Warner. Vacant lots were the ball fields and every age and size was included. Teams were divided off among those who were
available. Not everyone had a ball, so the lucky one was willing to share. Yes, we were lucky in a lot of ways. It just takes time to set and think back to realize that those were the best of times and imagination was used continually to make up games and fun times. I guess that is when we learned that is was not what you had but what you did with what you had that was important. We may not have had much, but we did have each other, and I am so greatful for that.
Written this 21st day of October 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Tomorrow - October 7th - is Dad's Birthday!
By Dad - I mean - John Charles Smith, was born in England in 1898 and brought to the United States in 1900. Too young to remember the trip her and then back to England where he shows up on the 1901 British Census living with his Mother Eliza Bunn Smith and his Grand Parents John Bunn and Maria Chatting Bunn.
Some time after this listing, he was given to his Grand Mother Ellen Frost Horton Smith to raise. She brought him back to the United States in 1909. By then his Father Charles Smith had remarried Carrena Maybell Bowman McIntire Smith.
In all my research, I have never been able to find out what happened to Eliza. I was told she died, but she is not listed in any death record in England, so if she died, it was not as Eliza Bunn or Eliza Smith. If there was a divorce, I have no knowledge of that either, but know my Grand Father would not have remarried unless he was legally free to have done so.
I have written a history on my Dad so will not go further into it at this time. I just felt like a short rememberance of him when it is time for the date of his birth. 7 October 1898 - He would be 111 if his life had not been cut short in an Auto Accident in 1955.
Happy Birthday Dad - where ever you may be - I love you - Charmaine!
Some time after this listing, he was given to his Grand Mother Ellen Frost Horton Smith to raise. She brought him back to the United States in 1909. By then his Father Charles Smith had remarried Carrena Maybell Bowman McIntire Smith.
In all my research, I have never been able to find out what happened to Eliza. I was told she died, but she is not listed in any death record in England, so if she died, it was not as Eliza Bunn or Eliza Smith. If there was a divorce, I have no knowledge of that either, but know my Grand Father would not have remarried unless he was legally free to have done so.
I have written a history on my Dad so will not go further into it at this time. I just felt like a short rememberance of him when it is time for the date of his birth. 7 October 1898 - He would be 111 if his life had not been cut short in an Auto Accident in 1955.
Happy Birthday Dad - where ever you may be - I love you - Charmaine!
Grandma Hall's favorite - Chicken Wings!
I guess I had to turn 80 and be immursed in Family History before my mind began to churn on this one thought. Well, that, and the fact that Chicken Wings are pretty much a "thing" today. You can buy them in about any flovor you can think of. They are good hot or cold, and can be bought at just about any place on the globe. Then why, so many years ago, did Grandma Hall pick them out of all the rest of the Chicken as her favorite? Then there is that other question that I hadn't thought of in years. Why did my Mother always boil the chicken first then dredge it in flour and fry it? Well boys and girls I guess it takes growing up to figure out just what such perplexing questions REALLY mean!
Now, here is my take on it all. Grandma Hall was left with 5 growing boys and 3 girls to raise by herself. She ran a boarding house, which would have brought a mouth or two more in to feed every morning and evening. Taking stock of just how many pieces there are to a cut up chicken it isn't hard to figure out that the wings would be just about the only part of the bird that no one else would grab off the plate first, or last for that matter. Deduction! Grandma made her choice seem pretty special. "I like the wing the best!" Naturally her doting children would leave that
part for her, and of course the boarders would take the biggest and best for the price they were paying for their honor of being part of the "family". Then why did Mom learn to boil the chicken
first before frying? That one isn't hard either when you think about it. By boiling the chicken first they had stock for soup, or Chicken and Noodles another day. The back was pretty sparce
on meat, so that would furnish the little bit of meat for the Noodles. Mere deduction kids. I never remember having "fried chicken" in my home as a child. It is not a practice I kept when I started "housekeeping" myself. Jay liked his "fried chicken".
I guess taking time to find out just what might have been at the bottom of both of these questions I gleaned just a bit more into the wonderful women that preceeded me in this family.
A grandmother that was quick to let her children think they were doing her a favor, and a mother that carried on the frugal habit of making a chicken stretch into at least two meals. We
today don't think of such saving habits. We are so use to going to the store and buying what we need and then bringing it to the table with as much taste and look so to tease the appetite of the family that set at the table.
Grandma would have to raise the chickens in her yard, taking great pain to see they were fed properly and watered so they would grow as big and fat as possible. The choice of what kind of chicken to raise would have been concidered as well. Maybe that was why Mom always looked for Rhode Island Red Hens when she went to the Poultry Market on Pacific Blvd. in Huntington Park. No question, they were always fat, and tasty even when boiled before frying, not to mention the great chicken and noodles they produced in Mom's kitchen. It is the little things we seem to miss when we are young that stand out so when we reach old age.
Grandma always had an herb garden, and raised a great many things that were put into medicines that she used in caring for her patients when she was nursing, another way she helped keeping her family.
You know today we read and hear of all kinds of help single mothers have in keeping their families together. There were no such things back when Grandma found herself left with such a large family to care for. Oh, her children helped. The oldest boys went to work outside the home to contribute. It seems the girls found husbands early so they could leave the home to ease the burdens. When she moved to Ohio from Iowa with the family her oldest was 14 and the youngest was only 9 months old - that was Mom. Everyone had to pitch in. There was no griping or grumbling allowed. The older ones made sure the younger ones learned not to make waves or cause any extra stress for Grandma. A close knit family, they cared for each other and had such great respect for their Mother.
Well, that is the story of Grandma Hall and her favorite "chicken wings". You know I heard that when I was a kid, and to this day my favorite part of a chicken is the "wing". I never really knew my Grandma Hall. I saw her once when I was 8 years old. By then she was in her 60's and seemed to me to be a very sad lady. I asked Mom about her one day what she was like. Mom said she was fun to be with and smiled a great deal. Something I did not see her do while I was with her. It was my pleasure to submit her name to the Temple and do her Ordinance work. I am sure she is happy and smiles a lot where she is now. You know what? I bet she still takes the wing of the chicken if they have such things there.
Written this 6th day of October 2009
by: Eileen C. Rosenberg
Now, here is my take on it all. Grandma Hall was left with 5 growing boys and 3 girls to raise by herself. She ran a boarding house, which would have brought a mouth or two more in to feed every morning and evening. Taking stock of just how many pieces there are to a cut up chicken it isn't hard to figure out that the wings would be just about the only part of the bird that no one else would grab off the plate first, or last for that matter. Deduction! Grandma made her choice seem pretty special. "I like the wing the best!" Naturally her doting children would leave that
part for her, and of course the boarders would take the biggest and best for the price they were paying for their honor of being part of the "family". Then why did Mom learn to boil the chicken
first before frying? That one isn't hard either when you think about it. By boiling the chicken first they had stock for soup, or Chicken and Noodles another day. The back was pretty sparce
on meat, so that would furnish the little bit of meat for the Noodles. Mere deduction kids. I never remember having "fried chicken" in my home as a child. It is not a practice I kept when I started "housekeeping" myself. Jay liked his "fried chicken".
I guess taking time to find out just what might have been at the bottom of both of these questions I gleaned just a bit more into the wonderful women that preceeded me in this family.
A grandmother that was quick to let her children think they were doing her a favor, and a mother that carried on the frugal habit of making a chicken stretch into at least two meals. We
today don't think of such saving habits. We are so use to going to the store and buying what we need and then bringing it to the table with as much taste and look so to tease the appetite of the family that set at the table.
Grandma would have to raise the chickens in her yard, taking great pain to see they were fed properly and watered so they would grow as big and fat as possible. The choice of what kind of chicken to raise would have been concidered as well. Maybe that was why Mom always looked for Rhode Island Red Hens when she went to the Poultry Market on Pacific Blvd. in Huntington Park. No question, they were always fat, and tasty even when boiled before frying, not to mention the great chicken and noodles they produced in Mom's kitchen. It is the little things we seem to miss when we are young that stand out so when we reach old age.
Grandma always had an herb garden, and raised a great many things that were put into medicines that she used in caring for her patients when she was nursing, another way she helped keeping her family.
You know today we read and hear of all kinds of help single mothers have in keeping their families together. There were no such things back when Grandma found herself left with such a large family to care for. Oh, her children helped. The oldest boys went to work outside the home to contribute. It seems the girls found husbands early so they could leave the home to ease the burdens. When she moved to Ohio from Iowa with the family her oldest was 14 and the youngest was only 9 months old - that was Mom. Everyone had to pitch in. There was no griping or grumbling allowed. The older ones made sure the younger ones learned not to make waves or cause any extra stress for Grandma. A close knit family, they cared for each other and had such great respect for their Mother.
Well, that is the story of Grandma Hall and her favorite "chicken wings". You know I heard that when I was a kid, and to this day my favorite part of a chicken is the "wing". I never really knew my Grandma Hall. I saw her once when I was 8 years old. By then she was in her 60's and seemed to me to be a very sad lady. I asked Mom about her one day what she was like. Mom said she was fun to be with and smiled a great deal. Something I did not see her do while I was with her. It was my pleasure to submit her name to the Temple and do her Ordinance work. I am sure she is happy and smiles a lot where she is now. You know what? I bet she still takes the wing of the chicken if they have such things there.
Written this 6th day of October 2009
by: Eileen C. Rosenberg
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
1965 BYU Travel Study - Church History Tour - Cont.
After I finished the last posting I remembered I hadn't shared with you some of the other things we saw, or learned on this trip. So here we go with the rest of the story.
Starting in Kansas City, Kansas we went to Independence, Missouri and visited the Temple site. It looked a great deal different then, than it does today. In one corner was the small building of the Stangites and in the opposite was the large home of the Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The rest of the Temple lot, which is quite large really, was just a nice grass and tree studded lot. Across the street was a small Visitors Center where we went for our lecture. It was here we learned it was not safe to go into Galletin. This is where Sidney Rigdon had given the talk on the "worth of salt". It so enraged the people before their local election that they drove the Saints out of their community. Feeling still ran high there, and we were told not to try to go into town. We did not try. (a note from 2009 - there is an active Ward in that town today. Feelings have finally changed.)
We drove then to the City of Diamond which is pronounced Di Ah Mond. It is here a memorial has been erected on a tiny lot in town to the memory of the Three Witnesses: Oliver Cowdery, David Whitmer and Martin Harris. We were able to get out of the Bus and walk around and take pictures. This place is in a quiet neighborhood of regular homes. It seemed to be a very old part of town.
From here we took a short drive out to Adam ondi Ahman. A rough ride really. Open country, more like a pig trail. The bus was scraped by the trees as we drove back to the place Lynn McKinlay would give us the story of this interesting place. Lyman Wight had a farm here and when he was laying out his property, he discovered it. Realizing it was something different he didn't disturb it. When Joseph Smith, Jr. came to Missouri, Lyman took him to the spot. It didn't take Joseph long to give its' history. He told Lyman this was the alter where Adam had given his first prayer after leaving the Garden of Eden and the very place Adam had called his posterity together for their blessings before he died. It is also the place where Adam will turn over his stewardship to the Savior prior to His Second Coming. Lynn had a hard time being heard over the chatter of the Katy Dids that seemed to inhabit every tree in the area. As long as everything was normal, they were quiet. When Lynn would raise his voice to be heard by the crowd, they would begin to do their thing. We had quite a laugh over it. Mother and I wandered around and found a pump house for the well for the ranch. It was not kept very well, so we weren't sure if someone was still living and caring for the place or not. In a conversation with Truman later he told us when the time came for Adam to hand over his stewardship every other head of any other dispensation would have to turn over their stewardship to Adam first. There would be a rather large gathering in that case, but no one would know they were there. The modern day Prophet would be there and no one would notice his coming or going. One of the reasons I suppose the area is kept as rural as it is. I have not been back since 1965 so have no idea what it looks like today.
We went then to Liberty Jail. It was a very small stone building set on a city lot in the midst of a residential and business area of the town. We were not able to go in, but the size made an impression. When Jay, Dawn and I visited it some years later there had been a great change. A large impressive Visitors Center had been built on the site and the walls or part of the walls of the original jail had been torn down to expose the lower chamber where the Prophet and Bretheren had been kept for so many months. It also showed the upper floor where the jailer stayed. None of it any size at all. The heat in the summer must have been unbearable and the cold in the winter just as bad. The food was of the most course fare. One wonders how they survived such housing and food. Lessons to be learned did not come easy, and Joseph pleading with the Lord from that humbling place brought some very enlightening truths. It was here the Prophet came into his full stature. He was tried in the firey furnace, and came out refined.
The Saints had been driven from Missouri and were languishing on the banks of the Mississippi River. Only the kind assistance of the people of Quincy, Illinois came to the aide. The people of Far West had vowed they would not let the Mormons dedicate the land they had purchased for a Temple. Guards were set, in fact when we were there though the plot is small, and at the time nothing had been done to it, there was a house across the street where the guards were on duty. Brigham Young and the Quorum of the Twelve crossed the river in the dead of night. Held their meeting, sang their songs, laid the four corner stones of the Temple and Dedicated the ground then left. No one saw or heard them, even at so close a range. Now how do you suppose that happened? If you visit that spot today, the corner stones are marked and a great marker is set on the back of the property. When the time comes, there will be a Temple there - you can count on it.
Next we went to Nauvoo then on to Carthage. The drive was much different than the ride Hyrum and Joseph took those long years ago. We found the town just a very small hamlet and the Jail seemed to be the biggest part of business around. The tourist who came kept the community financed. There was a small Visitors Center, but nothing like it is today. We found a local family had set up a Museum across the Street. Mother and I walked over and went through it. Nothing much to tell about it, except we were approached by a local who asked us:
"when are you Mormons going to take the curse off our town?" Amazed me to think after 120 plus years the people were still blaming someone else for their problems.
We were to have Truman Madsen give the Lecture here at the jail, but when the time came, he was no where around. Lynn stepped up and told us the story, we all knew so well, but hearing it here was very impressive. We walked into the jail, saw the lower quarters where the jailer and his family lived and then we walked the narrow stairway up to where the cell was and the bedroom where the martyrs were allowed to stay. The cell was small, and would have been most uncomfortable for the amount that insisted on staying with the Brothers. Joseph was successful in sending a number of them away with letters or assignments. This left only the two Smith Brothers, John Taylor and Willard Richards. That has always struck me - two witnesses remained to tell the tale. When the Carthage Greys came into the jail, they had one thought in mind - kill the Smiths and anyone else that would try to stop them. The struggle at the door tells its' own story. Holes where the guns fired killing Hyrum and wounding John Taylor. Hyrum fell backwards leaving his witness of blood on the floor that is still visible. Joseph realizing he could not help more decided to jump, hoping to save the others. Oh, you may hear that he was shot and fell. True, he was shot from the front and the back, but the width of the window cile was too wide for him to have fallen out. He would have had to propel himself out. He as shot from the yard which apparently changed his motion, when another shot at closer range from the door drove him into the yard. You won't hear it told too often, but here you will hear that his lifeless body was propted up against the well and shot a number more times. A reward of $1,000.00 had been offered for the head of Joseph Smith. One of the group took the Prophets' hair in his hand and was about to strike the blow that would win him the reward when a shaft of light froze him in that position, and he had to carried away. That is another story not often told, but a notarized statement to the fact tells the story. (You can read it in "Fate of the Persecutor of the Prophet Joseph Smith.)
I should explain what happened to Truman Madsen. I found him in the Bus very depressed and having a difficult time. We talked for awhile and he told me he could not bring himself to go into the jail. He was so close to the Prophet in so many ways it was a very painful experience for him. Even talking about it was upsetting. During our conversation he told me he was the Grand-son of Heber J. Grant. That his Great Grandmother, who was the mother of Heber J. had been sealed to the Prophet Joseph in Nauvoo, Illinois. When the Prophet was killed she was married for time to Jedediah H. Grant, Heber J's. birth father. He felt he was also the Great Grand Son of the Prophet through this line. According to the Eternal Marriage, that would be correct. It probably explains the life long work Truman Madsen did on the life of the Prophet Joseph Smith, and the film presentations he completed prior to his recent passing. I have no doubt that all the facts that Truman learned and shared with his many faithful students and fans has left a legacy that will mean thousands "shall know Brother Joseph".
It was my great pleasure to have been in many classes, read the books and view the films Elder Madsen made during his life time. He was noted for his memory. Just one more incident that might show just how great it really was. I was in a Session at the Los Angeles Temple many years after the 1965 Tour. I noticed Elder Truman was also in that Session. When the Session was over, I stayed in the Celestial Room for a short while and saw Elder Madsen with a group of friends. He kept watching me from a distance and after a short while he left that group and walked over to me and said: "little sister, how good it is to see you." We talked for a short while, and then parted. I didn't have another chance to speak with him after that experience, but it ment a great deal to me to know that after so long a time, he still had a memory of me, and when and where we had been in touch. I treasure my time with him and Elder McKinley Sister McKinley, Lynns' lovely wife Sam - short for Samantha. Another thought, I saw Lynn some years later while we were living in Anaheim, California. He also remembered me, and we had a nice conversation.
Samuel Smith a younger brother of Joseph and Hyrum was ill at home in Nauvoo when the Prophet left. He got out of a sick bed and road to Carthage arriving too late to help. The Greys had run from town thinking the Mormons were coming - they feared for their lives. Samuel made arrangements to take his Brothers back to Nauvoo for burial. He never regained his health and died six months later. Lucy Mack Smith had now lost all but one of her sons.
(Samuel, it should be noted here was one of Josephs strongest supporters and so anxious to help spread the Gospel he took the first few pages of the Book of Mormon off the presses and went on his first Mission. He was faithful to the end of his life.)
Next we went to Winter Quarters. We heard about the hardship of the Saints as they made their way West. The small graveyard across the street from their camp ground was soon filled with their dead. The City deeded that Cemetary over to the Church after years of the Church maintaining it. A Visitors Center was built across the Street and the story of the faithful Saints is told there. It has been expanded, and the Cemetary has received many additions like a listing of those buried there and some beautiful sculptures. Of course the most spectacular addition in recent years is the building of the Temple at the base of the Cemetary. It appears as if it rises right out of the hill. Amazing. A vantage point of the sight has been built into the Visitors Center. If you haven't seen it, you should make it a must for a future trip.
Next we went into Ohio. What a lot of things to see. We saw the Harris Farm and the Whitney Store and Sidney Rigdons home. We saw where the Prophet lived, but the most amazing experience was at the Johnson Farm. This is where the Church was organized. The little log cabin was yet to be restored at this time, but it was plain to see where it had stood. The lovely new home that graces the property had a wide covered porch. It was here Lynn McKinlay stood to give his Lecture. During this time I was standing a ways back from the rest of the group. I liked to be where I could see everything, and hear too. While Lynn was speaking I heard a noise and it wasn't long until it caught the attention of everyone else. It was soft at first and then it became louder. I couldn't figure out what it was, but I was certain it was coming toward us. As
I looked out over the wheat field, I could see what it was - a dark cloud was moving toward us and it was dumping a large amount of rain as it traveled our way. I guess my expression caught Lynns attenetion, he looked out and saw it as well. He quickly told the group to get up on the porch. Those that made it in time didn't get wet, the rest got soaked in short order. It was an amazing experience.
We visited the Kirtland Temple as I have told you, but I would like to take this time to tell you about the restoration of Kirtland, Ohio. One of the men who served with Jay on the LSM 330 has a daughter that is on the Town Council, or what ever it is called in Kirtland. She has contacted me about the work there. They are all Catholic. She had never had any experiences with LDS people but had heard about us from her parents. When the Church came to them to see about changes that would help inhance the restoration of Kirtland, they laid out a very elaborate plan indeed. After the prsentation the Church representative was asked: "and just how do you suggest we pay for all of these major changes?" She said they were shocked to hear him say that the Church would pay for them if the City would give them the clearances necessary. She wanted to have me come back there and see what they were doing. Unfortunately, I have not been able to accept her invitation. I have been in contact with her over the years and am pleased she still has such a high oppinion of the Church. I understand working with the Church the City has been pleased with the work, and appreciate the tourist advantage they have now that is helping their economy. Ohio has long been one of the areas that has been very shy about having the Church and its presence there. This has been changed greatly with this project.
I have talked about Palmyra, but did not mention it was here the locals had arranged a wonderful dinner for us in their Stake Center. We did enjoy our visit. We saw the home that Alvin had built for his family. The old Log Cabin they lived in was not restored at that time.
There was no Temple either. The Visitors Center was small but I am sure is much enlarged since that first visit. I have not been back there either.
I believe this covers it, however if I come up with any other tid bits, I might be back to blog them as well. In the mean time, I have been blessed over the years to have added upon what I learned on this trip, and am greatful for all those who have gone before in this History and given me the opportunities I have to be blessed by the Gospel, and to have my own opportunities to share my inthusiastic teaching of what I have learned.
Written this 15th day of September 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Starting in Kansas City, Kansas we went to Independence, Missouri and visited the Temple site. It looked a great deal different then, than it does today. In one corner was the small building of the Stangites and in the opposite was the large home of the Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The rest of the Temple lot, which is quite large really, was just a nice grass and tree studded lot. Across the street was a small Visitors Center where we went for our lecture. It was here we learned it was not safe to go into Galletin. This is where Sidney Rigdon had given the talk on the "worth of salt". It so enraged the people before their local election that they drove the Saints out of their community. Feeling still ran high there, and we were told not to try to go into town. We did not try. (a note from 2009 - there is an active Ward in that town today. Feelings have finally changed.)
We drove then to the City of Diamond which is pronounced Di Ah Mond. It is here a memorial has been erected on a tiny lot in town to the memory of the Three Witnesses: Oliver Cowdery, David Whitmer and Martin Harris. We were able to get out of the Bus and walk around and take pictures. This place is in a quiet neighborhood of regular homes. It seemed to be a very old part of town.
From here we took a short drive out to Adam ondi Ahman. A rough ride really. Open country, more like a pig trail. The bus was scraped by the trees as we drove back to the place Lynn McKinlay would give us the story of this interesting place. Lyman Wight had a farm here and when he was laying out his property, he discovered it. Realizing it was something different he didn't disturb it. When Joseph Smith, Jr. came to Missouri, Lyman took him to the spot. It didn't take Joseph long to give its' history. He told Lyman this was the alter where Adam had given his first prayer after leaving the Garden of Eden and the very place Adam had called his posterity together for their blessings before he died. It is also the place where Adam will turn over his stewardship to the Savior prior to His Second Coming. Lynn had a hard time being heard over the chatter of the Katy Dids that seemed to inhabit every tree in the area. As long as everything was normal, they were quiet. When Lynn would raise his voice to be heard by the crowd, they would begin to do their thing. We had quite a laugh over it. Mother and I wandered around and found a pump house for the well for the ranch. It was not kept very well, so we weren't sure if someone was still living and caring for the place or not. In a conversation with Truman later he told us when the time came for Adam to hand over his stewardship every other head of any other dispensation would have to turn over their stewardship to Adam first. There would be a rather large gathering in that case, but no one would know they were there. The modern day Prophet would be there and no one would notice his coming or going. One of the reasons I suppose the area is kept as rural as it is. I have not been back since 1965 so have no idea what it looks like today.
We went then to Liberty Jail. It was a very small stone building set on a city lot in the midst of a residential and business area of the town. We were not able to go in, but the size made an impression. When Jay, Dawn and I visited it some years later there had been a great change. A large impressive Visitors Center had been built on the site and the walls or part of the walls of the original jail had been torn down to expose the lower chamber where the Prophet and Bretheren had been kept for so many months. It also showed the upper floor where the jailer stayed. None of it any size at all. The heat in the summer must have been unbearable and the cold in the winter just as bad. The food was of the most course fare. One wonders how they survived such housing and food. Lessons to be learned did not come easy, and Joseph pleading with the Lord from that humbling place brought some very enlightening truths. It was here the Prophet came into his full stature. He was tried in the firey furnace, and came out refined.
The Saints had been driven from Missouri and were languishing on the banks of the Mississippi River. Only the kind assistance of the people of Quincy, Illinois came to the aide. The people of Far West had vowed they would not let the Mormons dedicate the land they had purchased for a Temple. Guards were set, in fact when we were there though the plot is small, and at the time nothing had been done to it, there was a house across the street where the guards were on duty. Brigham Young and the Quorum of the Twelve crossed the river in the dead of night. Held their meeting, sang their songs, laid the four corner stones of the Temple and Dedicated the ground then left. No one saw or heard them, even at so close a range. Now how do you suppose that happened? If you visit that spot today, the corner stones are marked and a great marker is set on the back of the property. When the time comes, there will be a Temple there - you can count on it.
Next we went to Nauvoo then on to Carthage. The drive was much different than the ride Hyrum and Joseph took those long years ago. We found the town just a very small hamlet and the Jail seemed to be the biggest part of business around. The tourist who came kept the community financed. There was a small Visitors Center, but nothing like it is today. We found a local family had set up a Museum across the Street. Mother and I walked over and went through it. Nothing much to tell about it, except we were approached by a local who asked us:
"when are you Mormons going to take the curse off our town?" Amazed me to think after 120 plus years the people were still blaming someone else for their problems.
We were to have Truman Madsen give the Lecture here at the jail, but when the time came, he was no where around. Lynn stepped up and told us the story, we all knew so well, but hearing it here was very impressive. We walked into the jail, saw the lower quarters where the jailer and his family lived and then we walked the narrow stairway up to where the cell was and the bedroom where the martyrs were allowed to stay. The cell was small, and would have been most uncomfortable for the amount that insisted on staying with the Brothers. Joseph was successful in sending a number of them away with letters or assignments. This left only the two Smith Brothers, John Taylor and Willard Richards. That has always struck me - two witnesses remained to tell the tale. When the Carthage Greys came into the jail, they had one thought in mind - kill the Smiths and anyone else that would try to stop them. The struggle at the door tells its' own story. Holes where the guns fired killing Hyrum and wounding John Taylor. Hyrum fell backwards leaving his witness of blood on the floor that is still visible. Joseph realizing he could not help more decided to jump, hoping to save the others. Oh, you may hear that he was shot and fell. True, he was shot from the front and the back, but the width of the window cile was too wide for him to have fallen out. He would have had to propel himself out. He as shot from the yard which apparently changed his motion, when another shot at closer range from the door drove him into the yard. You won't hear it told too often, but here you will hear that his lifeless body was propted up against the well and shot a number more times. A reward of $1,000.00 had been offered for the head of Joseph Smith. One of the group took the Prophets' hair in his hand and was about to strike the blow that would win him the reward when a shaft of light froze him in that position, and he had to carried away. That is another story not often told, but a notarized statement to the fact tells the story. (You can read it in "Fate of the Persecutor of the Prophet Joseph Smith.)
I should explain what happened to Truman Madsen. I found him in the Bus very depressed and having a difficult time. We talked for awhile and he told me he could not bring himself to go into the jail. He was so close to the Prophet in so many ways it was a very painful experience for him. Even talking about it was upsetting. During our conversation he told me he was the Grand-son of Heber J. Grant. That his Great Grandmother, who was the mother of Heber J. had been sealed to the Prophet Joseph in Nauvoo, Illinois. When the Prophet was killed she was married for time to Jedediah H. Grant, Heber J's. birth father. He felt he was also the Great Grand Son of the Prophet through this line. According to the Eternal Marriage, that would be correct. It probably explains the life long work Truman Madsen did on the life of the Prophet Joseph Smith, and the film presentations he completed prior to his recent passing. I have no doubt that all the facts that Truman learned and shared with his many faithful students and fans has left a legacy that will mean thousands "shall know Brother Joseph".
It was my great pleasure to have been in many classes, read the books and view the films Elder Madsen made during his life time. He was noted for his memory. Just one more incident that might show just how great it really was. I was in a Session at the Los Angeles Temple many years after the 1965 Tour. I noticed Elder Truman was also in that Session. When the Session was over, I stayed in the Celestial Room for a short while and saw Elder Madsen with a group of friends. He kept watching me from a distance and after a short while he left that group and walked over to me and said: "little sister, how good it is to see you." We talked for a short while, and then parted. I didn't have another chance to speak with him after that experience, but it ment a great deal to me to know that after so long a time, he still had a memory of me, and when and where we had been in touch. I treasure my time with him and Elder McKinley Sister McKinley, Lynns' lovely wife Sam - short for Samantha. Another thought, I saw Lynn some years later while we were living in Anaheim, California. He also remembered me, and we had a nice conversation.
Samuel Smith a younger brother of Joseph and Hyrum was ill at home in Nauvoo when the Prophet left. He got out of a sick bed and road to Carthage arriving too late to help. The Greys had run from town thinking the Mormons were coming - they feared for their lives. Samuel made arrangements to take his Brothers back to Nauvoo for burial. He never regained his health and died six months later. Lucy Mack Smith had now lost all but one of her sons.
(Samuel, it should be noted here was one of Josephs strongest supporters and so anxious to help spread the Gospel he took the first few pages of the Book of Mormon off the presses and went on his first Mission. He was faithful to the end of his life.)
Next we went to Winter Quarters. We heard about the hardship of the Saints as they made their way West. The small graveyard across the street from their camp ground was soon filled with their dead. The City deeded that Cemetary over to the Church after years of the Church maintaining it. A Visitors Center was built across the Street and the story of the faithful Saints is told there. It has been expanded, and the Cemetary has received many additions like a listing of those buried there and some beautiful sculptures. Of course the most spectacular addition in recent years is the building of the Temple at the base of the Cemetary. It appears as if it rises right out of the hill. Amazing. A vantage point of the sight has been built into the Visitors Center. If you haven't seen it, you should make it a must for a future trip.
Next we went into Ohio. What a lot of things to see. We saw the Harris Farm and the Whitney Store and Sidney Rigdons home. We saw where the Prophet lived, but the most amazing experience was at the Johnson Farm. This is where the Church was organized. The little log cabin was yet to be restored at this time, but it was plain to see where it had stood. The lovely new home that graces the property had a wide covered porch. It was here Lynn McKinlay stood to give his Lecture. During this time I was standing a ways back from the rest of the group. I liked to be where I could see everything, and hear too. While Lynn was speaking I heard a noise and it wasn't long until it caught the attention of everyone else. It was soft at first and then it became louder. I couldn't figure out what it was, but I was certain it was coming toward us. As
I looked out over the wheat field, I could see what it was - a dark cloud was moving toward us and it was dumping a large amount of rain as it traveled our way. I guess my expression caught Lynns attenetion, he looked out and saw it as well. He quickly told the group to get up on the porch. Those that made it in time didn't get wet, the rest got soaked in short order. It was an amazing experience.
We visited the Kirtland Temple as I have told you, but I would like to take this time to tell you about the restoration of Kirtland, Ohio. One of the men who served with Jay on the LSM 330 has a daughter that is on the Town Council, or what ever it is called in Kirtland. She has contacted me about the work there. They are all Catholic. She had never had any experiences with LDS people but had heard about us from her parents. When the Church came to them to see about changes that would help inhance the restoration of Kirtland, they laid out a very elaborate plan indeed. After the prsentation the Church representative was asked: "and just how do you suggest we pay for all of these major changes?" She said they were shocked to hear him say that the Church would pay for them if the City would give them the clearances necessary. She wanted to have me come back there and see what they were doing. Unfortunately, I have not been able to accept her invitation. I have been in contact with her over the years and am pleased she still has such a high oppinion of the Church. I understand working with the Church the City has been pleased with the work, and appreciate the tourist advantage they have now that is helping their economy. Ohio has long been one of the areas that has been very shy about having the Church and its presence there. This has been changed greatly with this project.
I have talked about Palmyra, but did not mention it was here the locals had arranged a wonderful dinner for us in their Stake Center. We did enjoy our visit. We saw the home that Alvin had built for his family. The old Log Cabin they lived in was not restored at that time.
There was no Temple either. The Visitors Center was small but I am sure is much enlarged since that first visit. I have not been back there either.
I believe this covers it, however if I come up with any other tid bits, I might be back to blog them as well. In the mean time, I have been blessed over the years to have added upon what I learned on this trip, and am greatful for all those who have gone before in this History and given me the opportunities I have to be blessed by the Gospel, and to have my own opportunities to share my inthusiastic teaching of what I have learned.
Written this 15th day of September 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
1965 BYU Travel Study - Church History Tour
I had read about this particular Tour and thought it would be a great Graduation Gift for Paul. It would give him a great foundation for his up coming Mission, no matter where he was called to serve. (Or so I thought.) I made the arrangements only to find Paul did not have the slightest interest in such a venture.
Not to be detered, I talked to my Mother and she was very interested in taking the reservation I had made for Paul. At the time, neither of us realized the adventure that was just ahead of us as we finalized our plans to leave. I spent a great deal of time sewing for the trip. I wanted to have dresses that would be easy to pack, and cool enough to take the humidity and weather we would have during the time we were gone.
Mother drove up from Huntington Park and Jay took us over to Bakersfield to fly up to Salt Lake City where the Tour would begin. It was exciting. The two Tour Guides were known to me from Classes I had taken during Education Week in Southern California. Both were outstanding teachers, and very knowledgeable about the places we were going to visit. Things took a decided turn just before we were to leave. The Airlines decided to strike. BYU had made arrangements for changes in our travel plans to accomdate the lack of Airline connections, but it ment a great many hours on a Bus. Nothing could be done to change that. I don't know if anyone backed out, but Mom and I were a go, no matter what.
I believe the original plan was to fly to New York and work our way back from there to Salt Lake City. With the Strike on, we started by flying Continental to Kansas City and picking up our buses there, hoping that by the time we finished in New York, the Strike would be over and getting us back by flying would be no problem.
Some housing changes had to be made at some of the locations due to the changes in our stops.
Mom and I had to share a room with another lady some of the time. She snored, and made it very difficult for a light sleeper like me to get much rest. The room had two large beds and as I was the youngest of the three, I got to sleep on the "roll away". I was greatful it did'nt happen too often. I think Mom was as well.
As we were starting the Tour in reverse, it took some adjusting for the teachers as we went along. They adjusted their speaking assignments and it was really special to have them both at every stop. Oh, I don't believe I told you who they were. Lynn McKinlay and Truman Madsen. Lynn McKinlay had his wife plus one or two of his children along. They were so nice to have with us. We became great friends by the end of the Tour.
I had decided to apply for Travel Study Credits, so that ment I had to take a great many notes and of course pictures as we went along. I would have anyway, but I was most careful to get everything down that would make a worthwhile report at the end of the journey. Our contact for the Tour with BYU was Robert Young. He would become a very great freind as well by the time we finished the adventure we had started. Probably a good thing we did not know the end at the beginning, for an adventure it certainly would become as we went along.
We started at Independence, Missouri. At this time there were still places we could not visit due to the lingering feelings against the "Mormons" in the area. It was not noticed where we went, which was good. We attended Church in a lovely new Chapel on Sunday. The Later-day Saints in Missouri treated us with a lovely luncheon after Church. It was a highlight to begin our Tour. Meeting people who had embraced the Gospel in an area that was not friendly before gave us a great start. It was a beautiful day, Missouri is a beautiful State.
Everyday the Tour Guides had to check to see what arrangements had been made for us at each stop. With such a large group to manage it was always a problem getting some of the members to remember they were in a group. Some would take more time shopping at each stop to the point it would hold us up in getting to where we had to be at a certain time. Another draw back was so many arriving at one time to be fed. It did put a strain on those who had accepted our Buses for service. We soon learned who was willing to step up to help things move along and who were too self serving to care about the rest of us.
I guess it was at these times the Tour Guides sorted out those they could count on to assist them in keeping things running smoothly. It could be a big job for just two or them. I am not sure just how they kept there cool with so much having to be taken care of everyday. It is difficult enough to guide, teach and satisfy such a large group when everything is laid out nicely and no hitches in the daily routine, but this Tour was another thing altogether.
We had a young lady in the group who seemed fine until we got to Kirtland, Ohio. She had taken a decided attachment to Lynn McKinlay. I was happy his wife was there, she helped him I am sure with the increasing problem. When Lynn had finished his lecture in the Kirtland Temple, he asked us to follow him out to the Graveyard that was next door. We all got up and were about to leave when this young lady fell down in front of Lynn and started to worship him. It was an ackward scene for everyone. Truman Madsen had to step in and pick her up and take her out to the Bus. The rest of us, stunned, but willing to follow orders walked outside and just walked around the outside of the Temple until things could be brought back to order.
Truman Madsen had been Mission President over the Mission in this area, so knew people he could call for help. The young lady was given some medical treatment and housed until her family could make arrangements to return her home. I believe she was from the State of Washington. No one ever mentioned her again. I talked to Truman about her later. He said she had an emotional problem and should not have come on the Tour. Her family was able to get her home and taken care of.
Our trip to Nauvoo, (I am not sure I am taking this in order) was made special for Mother and I. We were standing on the edge of the lot for the Temple when a group of men working in one of the back corners started shouting. We learned later they had just brought up the first of bucket of water from the well that had furnished the Temple Baptistry. Remember, this is 1965 and there was nothing but an indentation in the lot where the Temple had once stood. When I stood on that same area in 2006 there was a sidewalk and steps leading up to the Temple as it stands today. What a thrill to know I had been there when such an important event had taken place.
Nauvoo was different then, only a portion of the buildings had been rebuilt. This was before the Restoration had started. The Reorganized Church had a much larger presence there than did the Church. That has all changed now. We were fortunate to see the difference over the years.
Joseph Smiths old Homestead and the Mansion House were all that were at the Riverside area.
The Nauvoo House foundation and some of the lower wall was still there, but that was all. The Church had secured the Burial Plot behind the Homestead, but the Brick Store was gone. Not the way you find it today.
Because I am such a fan of Orrin Porter Rockwell, I was interested in his home. Truman told us that he had been given a lot in town, but had never built a home on it. We drove by and he pointed it out to the group. We spent time at the Heber C. Kimball home. It had been restored, and we were allowed to go through it. The Summer Kitchen out back is where Vilate Kimball received answer to her prayer about why Heber was so troubled. She returned to the house and told Heber she knew what was troubling him, and that they would take care of it in the morning. After breakfast she went with Heber to visit the Prophet Joseph at the Mansion House where she submitted herself to Plural Marriage. If there ever was an Elect Lady in Nauvoo, surely Vilate Kimball earned such a title.
Our Tour was planned so we could attend the Pagent at the Hill Cumorah. It was all the more special because it was the first time they had used their new sound system, and Lynn had done the narration. The ground shook when the tempest was depicted during the Pagent, and the thrill of seeing the Savior come down to the Nephites following his Crucifiction. However nothing could compare with the visit to the Grove and the meeting that was held there followed by a Testimony Meeting. The people who come from all over to put that Pagent on have their meetings in that setting, and it must be awesome for them. It certainly was for all of us.
We spent time at Niagra Falls before we went down to New York City. I had not been there as an adult. I guess the family had gone there when I was quite young, but I didn't remember it. One has to be prepared to get wet when they visit there. It is such a great thrill to see it both during the day and at night. Yes, it is lite up at night.
Now the adventure begins. When we got to New York, the question was, will we be able to fly?
The answer - well we got a phone call and I was asked to meet Truman in the Lounge. A lovely room with couches and chairs all around. He informed me that Lynn had a speaking engagement and had to leave. Robert Young had been able to get him out on a plane, but there were no such arrangements for the group. The Tour would have to Bus back to Kansas City where they hoped to have accomdations for all to fly back to Salt Lake City. Now however, the Tour was minus one Guide. There were more people than one Bus could handle so the decision was made to split the Tour Members who lived in California and send them on a regular bus going to Salt Lake City. BYU was responsible to see they got there, and that their food and transportation was paid for. I was asked to conduct the group. The next day, Truman took me to the Bus Station and to the Office where I would be given tickets for the group and he gave me $50.00 in cash to feed them.
One problem. When we got to the Office, there was no ticket. I was told the Tour Bus was leaving right now, and Truman needed to get down there. No Ticket for me . I was told however the Driver had a manifest that would see us through to our destination. Truman had already left with the Tour Group. Here am I with the California Group and instructions where to take them when we got to Kansas City, no Bus Tickets and $50.00. Oh, and the private telephone number for Robert Young. I was to call him at every stop, and report our progress. Being on a Regular Bus on a Regular Schedule, there would be different stops to eat, etc. so I had no guarantee I would see the other Bus any time along the trip West. Who could panic? I had too much to think about.
If you haven't taken a Bus trip across the United States, you have no idea how much you have never missed! It is not a way to go. I ended up with Mother, the lady that snored, a couple that was beside themselves to think they had been pond off to a nobody, a grandmother and her two grandchildren. There was someone else, because I had 10, but I don't remember who they were. Anyway, we got on our Bus and headed out. Truman and the Group had left about 20 minutes ahead of us, but they were not on the whistle stop we were, so I did not expect to see them again.
I tried to see to everyones comfort, pick up their tabs when we stopped to eat and get them back on the Bus before we had to leave again. When we got to Omaha, Nebraska we were to have a long layover before our next bus. I had talked to the group and asked if they would care to take a taxi out to Winter Quarters and spend some time there. I could give them a short talk about the place. I had spent years studying Church History, and felt I could make it interesting for them. It was agreed, I went to the phone to call Robert Young and tell him what we were doing, while I was waiting for the phone call, Mom came to the booth and told me we had to go, the Bus Drive had come and said we could make the Bus that was just leaving. I hung up without talking to anyone and ran to catch the Bus. We were off. It was now we had picked up time and I hoped we could make connections with the Tour Bus. Sure enough as we are going down the highway, one of the kids noticed the Bus. I was able to get to a window where Truman Madsen saw me. I was waving to him and he was blowing kisses to me. He was relieved to know we were O.K. and now ahead of him.
When we arrived at Kansas City, I was sure we would meet up with the Group, but when we got to the Hotel, no Tour. The Hotel only let me have half enough rooms, so the "odd couple" insisted in having a room to themselves, so the rest of us crowded into one room. It was O.K. because it was early, and the weather was beautiful so we just sat around the pool and soaked up the sunshine. It was much later in the evening when the Tour arrived and rooms were assigned and everyone could go to bed. Truman announced they were able to get everyone on the Bus on a flight to Salt Lake City the next morning, but the group from California would have to take an Air Bus that would make a great many stops before it got to Salt Lake. Again I was told to keep in touch with Robert Young and he would talk me through every step as we went.
The Tour Bus had become a hassle. Everyone sort of did their own thing, that was why we had caught up with them. They made every stop a layover while they shopped and lingered over their meals. Truman was nearly beside himself with the attitudes. When they arrived in Kansas City and found we had been there for hours before they arrived, they were really upset. When they heard they were getting an Airliner out and we were going by Air Bus, they were pretty pleased with themselves.
They left before us, but their plane was delayed. That is the way of it when a Strike is on. We on the other hand got right on our little put put and flew from Kansas City, back to Lincoln, Nebraska then I can't remember how many time we were up and then down, but we finally arrived at Salt Lake City. I got the snorer out on one flight, the grandma and her kiddies out on another, and the Odd Couple on their way, but had to wait for our flight to Bakersfield. After that was all taken care of, I made a call to Robert Young down in Provo. He asked me where I was and I said: "Salt Lake City". He gasp and said: "Salt Lake City?" I said yes, I had just put my other California people on their flights back home and Mother and I were waiting for our flight to Bakersfield. He told me he hadn't heard from Truman, they hadn't arrived yet. He thanked me for all my help and I was happy I had been able to do whatever it was I did.
The Ending was choice. Here Mother and I stood when the plane arrived with the Tour Group
and Truman. He was so happy to see me - by then we were very good friends and he had dubbed me "little sister". The rest of the party were not the least pleased to see us standing there. The Puddle Jumper had beat the big airplane, go figure. All I can say is when the Lord
has a small flock under the care of a scared leader, He takes over and great things happen. I cannot say enough about the way we were carried from New York to Kansas City and then on
to Salt Lake City. On a Bus with no tickets, supposed long layovers and some very unhappy people. Well it was a miracle. Truman could not believe we beat them, and yet he knew the group he had was not the least bit co operative in keeping them on schedule. They had held themselves up at every stop. As we have all heard, "alls well that ends well". We had an outstanding Tour, learned a lot, and enjoyed ourselves greatly. I wouldn't care to do it that way again, but have been greatful for the experience.
A week after my return home I received a lovely boquet of flowers from Robert Young, Truman Madsen and BYU with a card that said: "Thanks for service above and beyond the call of beauty".
I was saddened some years later when I heard Robert Young had passed away, and now all these years later that Truman Madsen has passed away as well. Two very good friends who I will remember lovingly forever.
Written this 15th day of September 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Not to be detered, I talked to my Mother and she was very interested in taking the reservation I had made for Paul. At the time, neither of us realized the adventure that was just ahead of us as we finalized our plans to leave. I spent a great deal of time sewing for the trip. I wanted to have dresses that would be easy to pack, and cool enough to take the humidity and weather we would have during the time we were gone.
Mother drove up from Huntington Park and Jay took us over to Bakersfield to fly up to Salt Lake City where the Tour would begin. It was exciting. The two Tour Guides were known to me from Classes I had taken during Education Week in Southern California. Both were outstanding teachers, and very knowledgeable about the places we were going to visit. Things took a decided turn just before we were to leave. The Airlines decided to strike. BYU had made arrangements for changes in our travel plans to accomdate the lack of Airline connections, but it ment a great many hours on a Bus. Nothing could be done to change that. I don't know if anyone backed out, but Mom and I were a go, no matter what.
I believe the original plan was to fly to New York and work our way back from there to Salt Lake City. With the Strike on, we started by flying Continental to Kansas City and picking up our buses there, hoping that by the time we finished in New York, the Strike would be over and getting us back by flying would be no problem.
Some housing changes had to be made at some of the locations due to the changes in our stops.
Mom and I had to share a room with another lady some of the time. She snored, and made it very difficult for a light sleeper like me to get much rest. The room had two large beds and as I was the youngest of the three, I got to sleep on the "roll away". I was greatful it did'nt happen too often. I think Mom was as well.
As we were starting the Tour in reverse, it took some adjusting for the teachers as we went along. They adjusted their speaking assignments and it was really special to have them both at every stop. Oh, I don't believe I told you who they were. Lynn McKinlay and Truman Madsen. Lynn McKinlay had his wife plus one or two of his children along. They were so nice to have with us. We became great friends by the end of the Tour.
I had decided to apply for Travel Study Credits, so that ment I had to take a great many notes and of course pictures as we went along. I would have anyway, but I was most careful to get everything down that would make a worthwhile report at the end of the journey. Our contact for the Tour with BYU was Robert Young. He would become a very great freind as well by the time we finished the adventure we had started. Probably a good thing we did not know the end at the beginning, for an adventure it certainly would become as we went along.
We started at Independence, Missouri. At this time there were still places we could not visit due to the lingering feelings against the "Mormons" in the area. It was not noticed where we went, which was good. We attended Church in a lovely new Chapel on Sunday. The Later-day Saints in Missouri treated us with a lovely luncheon after Church. It was a highlight to begin our Tour. Meeting people who had embraced the Gospel in an area that was not friendly before gave us a great start. It was a beautiful day, Missouri is a beautiful State.
Everyday the Tour Guides had to check to see what arrangements had been made for us at each stop. With such a large group to manage it was always a problem getting some of the members to remember they were in a group. Some would take more time shopping at each stop to the point it would hold us up in getting to where we had to be at a certain time. Another draw back was so many arriving at one time to be fed. It did put a strain on those who had accepted our Buses for service. We soon learned who was willing to step up to help things move along and who were too self serving to care about the rest of us.
I guess it was at these times the Tour Guides sorted out those they could count on to assist them in keeping things running smoothly. It could be a big job for just two or them. I am not sure just how they kept there cool with so much having to be taken care of everyday. It is difficult enough to guide, teach and satisfy such a large group when everything is laid out nicely and no hitches in the daily routine, but this Tour was another thing altogether.
We had a young lady in the group who seemed fine until we got to Kirtland, Ohio. She had taken a decided attachment to Lynn McKinlay. I was happy his wife was there, she helped him I am sure with the increasing problem. When Lynn had finished his lecture in the Kirtland Temple, he asked us to follow him out to the Graveyard that was next door. We all got up and were about to leave when this young lady fell down in front of Lynn and started to worship him. It was an ackward scene for everyone. Truman Madsen had to step in and pick her up and take her out to the Bus. The rest of us, stunned, but willing to follow orders walked outside and just walked around the outside of the Temple until things could be brought back to order.
Truman Madsen had been Mission President over the Mission in this area, so knew people he could call for help. The young lady was given some medical treatment and housed until her family could make arrangements to return her home. I believe she was from the State of Washington. No one ever mentioned her again. I talked to Truman about her later. He said she had an emotional problem and should not have come on the Tour. Her family was able to get her home and taken care of.
Our trip to Nauvoo, (I am not sure I am taking this in order) was made special for Mother and I. We were standing on the edge of the lot for the Temple when a group of men working in one of the back corners started shouting. We learned later they had just brought up the first of bucket of water from the well that had furnished the Temple Baptistry. Remember, this is 1965 and there was nothing but an indentation in the lot where the Temple had once stood. When I stood on that same area in 2006 there was a sidewalk and steps leading up to the Temple as it stands today. What a thrill to know I had been there when such an important event had taken place.
Nauvoo was different then, only a portion of the buildings had been rebuilt. This was before the Restoration had started. The Reorganized Church had a much larger presence there than did the Church. That has all changed now. We were fortunate to see the difference over the years.
Joseph Smiths old Homestead and the Mansion House were all that were at the Riverside area.
The Nauvoo House foundation and some of the lower wall was still there, but that was all. The Church had secured the Burial Plot behind the Homestead, but the Brick Store was gone. Not the way you find it today.
Because I am such a fan of Orrin Porter Rockwell, I was interested in his home. Truman told us that he had been given a lot in town, but had never built a home on it. We drove by and he pointed it out to the group. We spent time at the Heber C. Kimball home. It had been restored, and we were allowed to go through it. The Summer Kitchen out back is where Vilate Kimball received answer to her prayer about why Heber was so troubled. She returned to the house and told Heber she knew what was troubling him, and that they would take care of it in the morning. After breakfast she went with Heber to visit the Prophet Joseph at the Mansion House where she submitted herself to Plural Marriage. If there ever was an Elect Lady in Nauvoo, surely Vilate Kimball earned such a title.
Our Tour was planned so we could attend the Pagent at the Hill Cumorah. It was all the more special because it was the first time they had used their new sound system, and Lynn had done the narration. The ground shook when the tempest was depicted during the Pagent, and the thrill of seeing the Savior come down to the Nephites following his Crucifiction. However nothing could compare with the visit to the Grove and the meeting that was held there followed by a Testimony Meeting. The people who come from all over to put that Pagent on have their meetings in that setting, and it must be awesome for them. It certainly was for all of us.
We spent time at Niagra Falls before we went down to New York City. I had not been there as an adult. I guess the family had gone there when I was quite young, but I didn't remember it. One has to be prepared to get wet when they visit there. It is such a great thrill to see it both during the day and at night. Yes, it is lite up at night.
Now the adventure begins. When we got to New York, the question was, will we be able to fly?
The answer - well we got a phone call and I was asked to meet Truman in the Lounge. A lovely room with couches and chairs all around. He informed me that Lynn had a speaking engagement and had to leave. Robert Young had been able to get him out on a plane, but there were no such arrangements for the group. The Tour would have to Bus back to Kansas City where they hoped to have accomdations for all to fly back to Salt Lake City. Now however, the Tour was minus one Guide. There were more people than one Bus could handle so the decision was made to split the Tour Members who lived in California and send them on a regular bus going to Salt Lake City. BYU was responsible to see they got there, and that their food and transportation was paid for. I was asked to conduct the group. The next day, Truman took me to the Bus Station and to the Office where I would be given tickets for the group and he gave me $50.00 in cash to feed them.
One problem. When we got to the Office, there was no ticket. I was told the Tour Bus was leaving right now, and Truman needed to get down there. No Ticket for me . I was told however the Driver had a manifest that would see us through to our destination. Truman had already left with the Tour Group. Here am I with the California Group and instructions where to take them when we got to Kansas City, no Bus Tickets and $50.00. Oh, and the private telephone number for Robert Young. I was to call him at every stop, and report our progress. Being on a Regular Bus on a Regular Schedule, there would be different stops to eat, etc. so I had no guarantee I would see the other Bus any time along the trip West. Who could panic? I had too much to think about.
If you haven't taken a Bus trip across the United States, you have no idea how much you have never missed! It is not a way to go. I ended up with Mother, the lady that snored, a couple that was beside themselves to think they had been pond off to a nobody, a grandmother and her two grandchildren. There was someone else, because I had 10, but I don't remember who they were. Anyway, we got on our Bus and headed out. Truman and the Group had left about 20 minutes ahead of us, but they were not on the whistle stop we were, so I did not expect to see them again.
I tried to see to everyones comfort, pick up their tabs when we stopped to eat and get them back on the Bus before we had to leave again. When we got to Omaha, Nebraska we were to have a long layover before our next bus. I had talked to the group and asked if they would care to take a taxi out to Winter Quarters and spend some time there. I could give them a short talk about the place. I had spent years studying Church History, and felt I could make it interesting for them. It was agreed, I went to the phone to call Robert Young and tell him what we were doing, while I was waiting for the phone call, Mom came to the booth and told me we had to go, the Bus Drive had come and said we could make the Bus that was just leaving. I hung up without talking to anyone and ran to catch the Bus. We were off. It was now we had picked up time and I hoped we could make connections with the Tour Bus. Sure enough as we are going down the highway, one of the kids noticed the Bus. I was able to get to a window where Truman Madsen saw me. I was waving to him and he was blowing kisses to me. He was relieved to know we were O.K. and now ahead of him.
When we arrived at Kansas City, I was sure we would meet up with the Group, but when we got to the Hotel, no Tour. The Hotel only let me have half enough rooms, so the "odd couple" insisted in having a room to themselves, so the rest of us crowded into one room. It was O.K. because it was early, and the weather was beautiful so we just sat around the pool and soaked up the sunshine. It was much later in the evening when the Tour arrived and rooms were assigned and everyone could go to bed. Truman announced they were able to get everyone on the Bus on a flight to Salt Lake City the next morning, but the group from California would have to take an Air Bus that would make a great many stops before it got to Salt Lake. Again I was told to keep in touch with Robert Young and he would talk me through every step as we went.
The Tour Bus had become a hassle. Everyone sort of did their own thing, that was why we had caught up with them. They made every stop a layover while they shopped and lingered over their meals. Truman was nearly beside himself with the attitudes. When they arrived in Kansas City and found we had been there for hours before they arrived, they were really upset. When they heard they were getting an Airliner out and we were going by Air Bus, they were pretty pleased with themselves.
They left before us, but their plane was delayed. That is the way of it when a Strike is on. We on the other hand got right on our little put put and flew from Kansas City, back to Lincoln, Nebraska then I can't remember how many time we were up and then down, but we finally arrived at Salt Lake City. I got the snorer out on one flight, the grandma and her kiddies out on another, and the Odd Couple on their way, but had to wait for our flight to Bakersfield. After that was all taken care of, I made a call to Robert Young down in Provo. He asked me where I was and I said: "Salt Lake City". He gasp and said: "Salt Lake City?" I said yes, I had just put my other California people on their flights back home and Mother and I were waiting for our flight to Bakersfield. He told me he hadn't heard from Truman, they hadn't arrived yet. He thanked me for all my help and I was happy I had been able to do whatever it was I did.
The Ending was choice. Here Mother and I stood when the plane arrived with the Tour Group
and Truman. He was so happy to see me - by then we were very good friends and he had dubbed me "little sister". The rest of the party were not the least pleased to see us standing there. The Puddle Jumper had beat the big airplane, go figure. All I can say is when the Lord
has a small flock under the care of a scared leader, He takes over and great things happen. I cannot say enough about the way we were carried from New York to Kansas City and then on
to Salt Lake City. On a Bus with no tickets, supposed long layovers and some very unhappy people. Well it was a miracle. Truman could not believe we beat them, and yet he knew the group he had was not the least bit co operative in keeping them on schedule. They had held themselves up at every stop. As we have all heard, "alls well that ends well". We had an outstanding Tour, learned a lot, and enjoyed ourselves greatly. I wouldn't care to do it that way again, but have been greatful for the experience.
A week after my return home I received a lovely boquet of flowers from Robert Young, Truman Madsen and BYU with a card that said: "Thanks for service above and beyond the call of beauty".
I was saddened some years later when I heard Robert Young had passed away, and now all these years later that Truman Madsen has passed away as well. Two very good friends who I will remember lovingly forever.
Written this 15th day of September 2009
by: Eileen Rosenberg
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