(Aunt Kate) 

I looked at the funeral program in my hands.  It read: 

In loving memory of 

Mrs. Catherine Evans Jones 

Age 79 

Born October 13, 1887  Malad City, Idaho 

Died December 23, 1966  Malad City Idaho 

Funeral service 

Tuesday, December 27, 1966- 1:00 

St. John L.D.S. Ward Chapel 

Bishop James Madsen was giving the obituary and spoke of “Aunt Kate”, and J.D. Price spoke of “Aunt Kate” too, everyone else did.  Her family, Dad’s family, friends, neighbors, everyone, but I was different, I called her Mumma.  The only one who could.  How I loved her.  I hoped she was pleased with the funeral.  She’d been to so many herself, and sang in them all her life, I  guess.  From the time she was in her teens, she and her sister Mary sang duets, she the soprano and Marty alto.  What a beautiful voice she had.  She sang in every  meeting I can remember.  I know, because you could hear her voice above all the others. Not that she sang loud, her voice just carried well. 

Section 23:12 Doctrine & Covenants seems to apply to her singing.  “For my soul delighteth in the song of the heart; yea, the song of the righteous is a prayer unto me, and it shall be answered with a blessing upon their heads.” 

After I had married we sang together a few times, but I was poor alto to her beautiful voice. 

My thoughts just didn’t seem to stay with what the funeral was all about.  I remembered when I was fourteen and Daddy had died.  I couldn’t remember anything about his funeral either.  I guess when things are very painful we just forget them.  

Strange, as I sit here writing this I don’t even remember what kind of a day it was, not that it matters.  I know Mumma died on Daddy’s birthday. 

To those who read this story, much of it may seem to be unimportant or unnecessary from a Genealogical standpoint.  However, in writing it, perhaps I have been selfish, for I have written of things I hold dear.  Events I long to remember and that I treasure.  Little things, you might say.  This poem by Elaine V. Evans, entitled “Song for Little Things: tells of some of them.  

Today went by and little things were all 

That I accomplished–laundering a dress, 

Making a fluffy pudding, helping small 

Fingers with work until they found success, 

Learning to whistle back to a whistling bird, 

And answering a letter long neglected, 

Telling a friend a good thing I had heard 

About him, happy, wholly unexpected, 

And reading but one chapter in a book. 

Nothing has happened that was consequential, 

But I saw peace in my beloved’s look, 

And thought how beautiful and how essential 

It is that, between larger happenings, 

We have so great a store of little things. 

As I began writing this story Mother had been  gone from us for three months.  Inside me was a great loneliness.  It filled me with a pain I found hard to bear.  I recognized it as the emotion called “grief”.  I had known it before, the death of my father, uncles, aunts, grandparents, friends, but this was a new concept to me.  This grief that lay heavy within, and seemed never to leave, not even at night.  I would awaken from a dream-a dream when she was with me.  I would talk to her, and touch her, only to awaken and find her gone.  Only grief was left.  Even my crying was new.  Deep from inside me tears that seemed to flow from a bottomless well.  Enough of my sorrow.  I state it only to perhaps let her know that now I understand why she cried so often and so hard after Daddy died and I wondered why.  Now I know. 

So many little things I remember.  I guess it’s all the little things that make one big thing, a life.  It’s what made my Mumma and “Aunt Kate”. 

(missing a page)baby and named her Catherine.  Pa immediately called her Katie.  Four years later the same events took place again.  Only this time on 29 March, 1891, for William was added to the family.  Katie wasn’t the baby anymore.  She was now five years old and her life revolved around the baby and her older sisters.  Especially Mary, whom she loved dearly.  One September day in 1892 Mary went off to school; what’s more, Alice and Maggie went too.  Only she and the baby were left at home.  She didn’t like that one little bit, so she just sat down and cried and cried until finally they had to let her go with the other girls to school just to shut her up.  It was wonderful to ride to school with Pa in his little buggy behind the horse.  Just after she had been born Pa had gone to work in the J.N. Ireland bank because his let was too bad to be a carpenter anymore.  Up the Courthouse Hill they went and there was the Presbyterian Church.  Katie loved it immediately.  There was a stream of water running merrily down the hill beside the church and a big bell hung nearby.  Alice proudly informed her that it was 102 inches around and had been shipped from Troy, New York, in 1884.  When it rang you could hear it all over town and that when it rang each morning and again at night it meant they were supposed to be at school.  Katie found that it also rang to summon the townspeople to church, for special meetings, curfew, a fire, 4th of July, an emergency, and whenever the kids could sneak up and ring it just for fun, but that was serious business. 

Her teacher was Miss Carrie and she loved her because she was always so kind and thoughtful.  However, once when she did something wrong and a teacher made her stand in the corner with her arm above her head and it ached and ached and she just cried and cried.  Miss Carrie’s sister Irene Griffith was the other teacher. 

Every year school was in a different building.  The Old Opera House, upstairs above the Evans Co Op Store, the Vestry of the old First Ward Church, the community’s old log meeting house, and at the reorganized L.D.S. Church building.  

One school experience she always remembered was when she attended school in the Josephite meeting house.  As the children were studying their lessons they heard a cracking noise and they were so frightened that the teacher dismissed school for a day or so until an inspection could be made.  A support was put in so that the roof would not fall in on them.  However, the old church was used for many, many years after that, so the creaking wasn’t too serious. 

In 1899 a three story, brick school house was erected on the southeast corner of 300 West, 400 North.  Some of her teachers then were, R.N. Hill, Edward W. Colton, Mabel Waylett, Maggie Jones, (Mrs. Edwin) Esther Evans, (Mrs. R. B. Davis) John O. Thomas, T.D. Jones, and the principal was Steven L. Richards who later became 1st counselor in the L.D.S. Church Presidency.  Much as she liked school she loved the times at home more, for they were happy ones. 

Saturday nights were bath nights, and after she had washed her hair, it was Pa’s job to dry it in front of the cook stove.  He would first rub it with the towel and then his fingers, until it was a mass of curls over her head. 

There always seemed to be a cat or two under the stove and once in a while the dog was allowed to come in, but it was mostly his place to stay outside with the cows, horses, chickens, and generally guard the place. 

Religion was not an awfully important part of their lives during these early years, because their father William was not a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, but their mother Margaret Price had been raised as a Mormon and on 21 May 1898 Alice, Margaret, Mary Jane, and Catherine were all baptized.  Katie was baptized by Eldert George Stuart and confirmed the same day by Elder William T. Evans. 

The Evans home at 270 West 300 North was full of fun.  They would all gather around the organ and sing.  Every one of them were given music lessons and loved it.  It was even pleasant to do dishes in the shanty slope, for Ma tacked the newspaper, the funnies, or a pleasant picture on the boards so they could have something to look at as they worked.  When Katie was 7, Estalla was born and what a nice first day of May 1894 that ws.  Five years later on 17 December 1899, they all received a most precious Christmas gift, for Mother Margaret gave birth to her sixth and final daughter.  That was probably their happiest Christmas and their saddest time was on 14 January, 1901, when ten year old Billie, their only brother died of heart trouble. 

The usual childhood illnesses visited them along the way.  When baby Annie was only two months old she had Smallpox along with the rest of the family, including Mother Margaret.  Katie had the distinction of being the only one in the family to have Diphtheria. 

After the sadness of losing their brother, the year of 1902 was a happy one and yet in a way it was sad.  Maggie married David Rees Evans on 9 April, 1902, and on 11 June, that same year, Alice married Talesin Reynolds.  How Katie missed her sisters, but she was thankful they still lived in the valley and could visit often. 

On 16 May, 1902 Katie was a grown girl at least she felt as if she were, she graduated from 8th grade with a grade average of 86% on nine subjects.  Her lowest was in History.  Her teacher was T.D. Jones. 

That fall another experience opened to her and she went to High School.  How exciting it was.  Her grades were 93% for the first semester and soon school was no challenge to her.  Music became more and more a part of her life.  At 15 she was organist in the ward and sang in the choir and funerals.  After that year’s schooling, she began working for her father in the bank.  He was now a cashier and glad to have her help.  It was fun to learn from her own father, and she loved the work.  When school began again in the fall, she stayed on at the bank and worked with her father for four more years.  These were fun years.  She began dating a little and was the “Belle of the Ball”, loved to dance, go sleigh riding, and sing, and sing. 

Even with her work and music, life seemed rather full.  A desire to go back to school was in Kate’s thoughts.  In the fall of 1907 Kate and Mary went to Logan, Utah and Kate enrolled in Brigham Young College (now Utah State University).  Mary did not go to school, but was to keep Kate company and keep house for them at 391 South 1st West.  Kate seemed to enjoy school and was quite popular.  She was made a member of the Crimson Girls, an elite group, consisting of only 11 girls who were the equivalent of today’s Pep Clubs.  They wore long red dresses with Leg-o-mutton sleeves and high necks adorned with a pin of the initial C.  At the games they wore a huge bow on the back of their hair and to come and go they wore enormous cart wheel hats covered with ribbons.  Elbow length kid gloves were part of their outfit. (Very foxy to say the least.) 

One of Kate’s best friends was Lydia Fonesbeck, one of the Crimson Girls.  Her beau at this time was Dave Wansguard.  From his pictures he wasn’t very tall (but on the basketball team), was blond, and parted his hair in the middle.  (I think she could have done better, she was so cute.)  In 1908 this team became Utah State Basketball champions.  (Point of interest: There were only 7 men on the team.)  Two things that impressed her during her schooling at B.Y.C. was when she met and shook hands with President of the Church, Joseph F. Smith, and Apostle Albert E. Bowen taught her History class.  During the year Mary was not too happy with her role in Kate’s college life and so the next year she stayed at home.  Kate attended  one more year of school and then returned home and resumed her work at the J.N. Ireland Bank with her father. 

Life was fun.  She had a good job, which she enjoyed, she was very popular with the fellows and girls alike.  Some of her best friends were Maggie Richardson, Zina Stuart, Julia Peck, Marnie Williams, Becky Evans, Margaret Jones, Mary Ann Stuart, Mary Bolingbroke, Mary Daniels, Barbara Dudley, and of course her sister Mary, Chester Bolingbroke, Arthur E. Leigh, William Jones, Edwin Jones, and even visits from Dave Wansguard in Logan. 

Christmas was coming again, and the Evans household was buzzing with preparations, not only for Christmas, but for another wedding.  Kate’s sister Mary was to marry Henry Lewis on 21 December, 1910.  They were all so happy, but then Kate caught whatever it was that happened to be going around and was just right good and sick in bed.  Sick or not, she would not give up her place as her sisters Maid of Honor and the wedding went off smoothly. 

Their home life was beautiful. The family was happy, close-knit one who enjoyed doing things together.  Friends were always welcome and the house rang with their laughter and singing.  There were choir outings at Palmers Grove, Church socials, and the best items were the dances. It was one of these dances that Kate met a handsome bachelor named Henry Jones.  He was 5’ 11 “ tall, had black curly hair, blue eyes, spoke Welsh, had a well-to-do family, a sense of humor, and was a good dancer. 

Kate knew that she was in love, really in love.  She talked to her sisters for hours about Henry.  She and Mary laughed because Mary had married a Henry also.  The other sisters teased them saying they had to do everything alike. 

Kate sat by the kitchen stove with the old yellow tom cat in her lap, warm and quiet, and wondered what Henry was thinking about.  Maybe he was thinking about her right this very minute. 

Henry was thinking.  He sat in his favorite spot for thinking, in the wood box behind the kitchen stove.  It was 18 December, 1911, and it felt good to be where it was warm and quiet.  His older brothers and sisters had always teased him about sitting behind the stove.  NOw they were saying, “Henry sat behind the kitchen stove until he was 25 and now he’s going to marry the “Belle of the Valley”.  Well, it was true.  He never had been too keen on girls.  He enjoyed just running around with the boys and having a good time, too good maybe.  Now this beautiful, happy, snip of a girl wanted him to go to church and get married in the Temple.  Well, he guessed that would be alright.  HIs sister May had gone to the Salt Lake Temple and she and Arch seemed to be happy.  Anyway, he loved Katie and would do almost anything for her, even give up some of his bad habits. 

It would be kind of nice to be married and have a home of his own.  Just this afternoon he had brought his mother home from a visit to his sister Rachel’s home where his sister Maggie had given birth to a fine son and named him Henry, after their father of course, who had died 12 September, 1909, but he and Maggie were close and he knew the baby had been named for him too.  “Let’s see,” Henry figured,  “If I become engaged for Christmas then as soon as the weather breaks, I can start building our home.”    

As each one of the girls and boys had married they had received land to start their home on.  Henry would build next to the lane that led to the homestead.  It would be two rooms to start with, and later they could build on.  For now, Henry was content to sit behind the stove and listen to the pleasant home sounds his mother, Catherine, made as she prepared supper.  It would be a cold night.   “Hey Ma, was it this cold when I was born?”  Henry asked mostly to make conversation.  He had heard the story before, but liked to listen to his mother’s soft voice.  “Well yes Henry, it was cold, of course it was cold, it was always cold in Malad in December.  You were born just two days before Christmas.  I was kind of hoping you would be born on Christmas or maybe on Christmas Eve, kind of a special present for the others, but it was good to get you here anytime.  You know Maggie was born on New Year’s Day.  Wasn’t it nice of her to name her baby Henry?  I’ll bet you’re mighty proud.” 

It was cold the day you were blessed too.  A real bad day, 20 February, 1887 by Daniel R. Evans.  Grannie Jones was sure you would have a cold going out on such a cold day, but you were always a strong child and seldom sick.  I even remember the day you were baptized.”  “So do I Ma, after all it was only ten years ago and I was 15.  The whole family was baptized that same day except Davie and Tommie, and it wasn’t cold.  It was 4 August, 1901, and it was hotter than blazes. I thought Hyrum Monson was going to drown me in Devil Creek.  It was a good thing James P. Harrison was there to confirm me right then, or I would have just come on home, it was too hot to do anything, except maybe jump back in the creek.  

“Henry, don’t you think it’s about time you started a family of your own?  What about Kate Evans, I think she would make a good wife?”  “Well, I been thinkin Ma, maybe next year, if you’ll give me the piece at the top of the lane to build on.”  Henry knew he was blushing, but he was glad it was out.  “Well, the rest of the married have their lot, I guess you can have that one, but if you’re going to marry Katie you best be going to church regular and get a recommend to take her to the temple.”  “Your father and I were married in the Endowment House in Salt Lake on 27 December, 1875.  We would soon be having our 36th anniversary if he had lived, and on 26 January, this year, Davie and Mag were sealed in the temple, so you should go there too.” 

Christmas came with it’s excitement and about this same time Kate was surprised and then a little frightened.  She received a call to go on a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.  After talking it over with her Stake President, William H. Richards, who wrote to the Church Presidency, and then waiting for what seemed like an eternity, she received a letter from them telling her they had not known of her [intention to marry] and that was a mission in itself.  Therefore, a call was not made for her to fulfill a church mission.   February 20, 1912 was a day of release and happiness for Kate and Henry. 

Henry was a reformed man.  He gave up his wild ways, went to church, and on 11 March, 1912 was ordained an Elder by Elbert E. Randall.  Spring came and the house was getting built.  Henry sat on the foundation after the men had gone home and thought about his life.  They still all spoke Welsh at home, but he could tell Kate didn’t like that too well. Guess it would be bad to sit and listen to people talk a language you couldn’t understand.  The Old Grannie Jones, his father’s mother, never learned to speak English very well.  Lets see, she had been dead 12 years now and he missed her still.  She had lived in the little house west of the big house and he remembered how they would all go to her house every Saturday night and leave their dirty stockings and she would give them a clean pair.  Then she would wash and mend them for the next week.  If they needed a new pair it was she who knit them.  It had always fascinated him to sit and watch her spin the wool to yarn on her spinning wheel and then dye the socks and sweaters for all of them.  He remembered them telling how sick she had been with the Typhoid Fever, and sister Rachel too.  Everyone thought they would die, and for 21 days they almost did.  Dr. Morgan came with his team and sleigh, to care for them.  John Jame’s wife Hannah came every day through the snow-covered fields to help care for them.  Rachel had even lost all her hair. 

There were happy times too when they were all young.  They rode horses lots.  Sometimes Mother sent them into the barn on the horse to gather the eggs the chickens had lain on a high place.  He remembered one day Mae and Gint  (Rosalie’s nick name)  had invited him to a program in the chicken coop, where they used the roosts for a stage, and they all came out scratching with mites. 

This must be a day for remembering, he had to laugh when he thought of the Fourth of July his father had taken up a collection of $1.00 from each family for the celebration and then bought several barrels of beer to be drunk under the Bowery on the Fourth.  Well he made a hit with the men, but the women were surely mad at him. 

He remembered the Christmas he had made a doll for Gint out of an old beer bottle and his mother had made a dress for it.  It was her favorite doll for years.  Henry hoped he would soon have a little daughter to buy a Christmas doll for. 

He loved spring and was glad he could stay on the farm.  The whole 160 acres was bordered by trees that his father had planted.  From the county road to the house there was an orchard of fruit trees, all planted in perfect rows from any direction you looked, and now they would soon be in bloom.  Bees would be busy filling the bee boxes beneath them.  The farm still managed to support all of them except Tommie who had moved to town.  It was hard for them to work the land and divide it evenly between them.  Oft times there were bitter quarrels.  He didn’t like that and wished they could divide it and each have their own piece.  Maybe he could Homestead some land, lots of men were doing just that.  They had 70 Percheon brood mares and a $3,000.00 stallion when father had been alive.  He had raised and sold the teams for as much as $400.00 a pair, they were so perfectly matched with their huge bodies and the white on their faces and feet.   Many of them had been sold now, but there was every other kind of animal and fowl for their use.  The crops looked good this spring and the raspberry and strawberry patches would soon bloom.  Henry hoped Kate could cook as well as she could sing and dance, but then all girls were taught those things when they were going to get married.   He decided he didn’t care if she did anything.  It was Spring, and Henry Jones Jr. was in love, was going to be married have his own house, his own land, his own children, and Kate! 

Kate had always been a busy person, and she had helped Alice, Maggie, and Mary prepare for their weddings, but now as she prepared for her own wedding there just didn’t seem to be enough time to get everything ready.  There was a picture to be taken, clothes to make, her wedding dress, invitations, food, pillowcases, tablecloths, sew, sew, sew, run here and there.  Just no end to it, but it was fun!  Being in love was fun, work was fun, life was fun!  Sister Alice had been married in the Temple and the two became very close at this time.  The day of the wedding drew closer, and on 9 April, 1912, all the family that could get there, went to Salt Lake City, Utah, and the next day April 10, Henry Jones Jr. and Cathereine Evans were married for time and all eternity by Anthon H. Lund.  She was a beautiful bride, black curly hair, gray eyes, five’ four” tall, and 145 lbs.  ( In old records I found her chest size was listed as 38”.  Pretty nice looking! 

Back home again in St. John, the couple settled down to their new little home.  They still had to paint and do lots of work on it, but it was their own and they were happy. 

Katie sat in the middle of the bedroom floor unpacking the boxes that she had brought from home, well anyway, what used to be her home.  In the very bottom of one box she found a sheet of paper where she had written some thoughts and poems on one day when she wasn’t busy at the bank.  It was dated February 9, 1910, and one of the verses made her smile as she read it.  Surely she could build her home this way. 

A House is built of bricks and stones, or sills and posts and piers, 

But a home is built of loving deeds, that stand a thousand years. 

A House, though but a humble cot, within its walls may hold, 

A home of priceless beauty, rich in loves eternal gold. 

The men of earth build houses, halls, and churches, roofs and domes, 

But the women of earth-God knows-the women build the homes. 

Eve could not stray from Paradise, for oh! No matter where, 

Her gracious presence lit the way, Lo Paradise was there. 

There was always so much to do on the farm.  Summers were busy with gardens and canning the produce from them; crops to plant, water, and harvest; cows to milk; pigs, and chickens to feed; men to cook for; the washing and ironing; soap to make; meat to cure; house work; a funeral to sing in ; and their church jobs.  Then the war came and the ‘depression’ with the cost of food high and the price of wheat at rock-bottom.  Times were hard and they decided to take advantage of the Homestead Act and choose 160 acres northwest of St. John in the Elkhorn Area for their farm.  Henry and Mary Lewis had their farm just east of them and seemed to be doing pretty well.  

Every summer they lived on the Homestead for three or four months.  This was the hardest part of their life.  They built a one room cabin and dug a well and put a windmill over it for water.   Henry was to have the back breaking job of breaking up the land.  In some places the sagebrush were pulled and burned.  Then the ground had to be plowed with a four bottom plow pulled by four head of horses.  Life was hard for Kate too.  She had been raised as a city girl with a lovely home.  Now she had to haul water and wood, scrub on the board to get the dirty clothes clean.  The days were hot, for there were no trees on the Homestead.  The best part was that she and Mary, who lived about a mile down the road, could visit almost every day.  The worst part were the rattlesnakes.  Kate was terrified of them.   Henry tried to reassure her they wouldn’t come in the cabin (which was supported by wooden block), but one day when she lifted the lid on the flour bin and a rattler was quietly resting there, she refused to be consoled on the matter any more.  Henry didn’t realize how frightened she was of the snakes, until one day when he was way up on the hill plowing.  The wheel broke and he walked back to the house.  Kate was just finishing scrubbing the floor on her hands and knees, and her feet were sticking out the door.  Henry walked quietly up to her and pulled her leg.  Well, she just went into hysterics and he had to take her down to Mary’s for the rest of the day. 

Two years had passed since their marriage and there were no children.  This was very sad for Kate and Henry, who both loved children.  On Dec. 4, 1914, Kate entered the L.D.S. Hospital in Salt Lake City, Utah and was there for surgery until Jan 10, 1915.  (I think Mother told me once that this was supposed to correct some condition so she could have children.  However, this gift never came to them.) 

Kate found a great deal of joy from Mary’s two sons, Theras and Elmer, and in 1917 Mary was expecting another baby.  Mary had a ‘bad heart’ as the oldtimers called it, and was very sick all spring.  She spent most of the time back home in Malad with her mother and Annie caring for her and the boys.  On 27 July, 1917, a son was born and named Dailey William.  It was such a relief to have the baby born, but Mary just wasn’t getting her strength back.  Then on 17 August, Mary died.  The whole family was in a state of shock.  Each of the sisters and Mother and Father Evans cared for the boys.  Henry Lewis wanted so much for them to be together and to keep them.  The baby wasn’t too well and on 10 September, he died.   It was one of the saddest things that had ever happened to Kate, and she didn’t know how she would ever bear this burden.  (Henry did the best he could with help from everyone and on 11 September, 1924, he married Amelia Davis.) 

The busy years moved on, then in 1918 the war ended, but not problems.  The dreaded Influenza Epidemic reached their valley, and many, many people died.  That summer the children of Henry Jones Sr. finally decided there was too much contention among them to continue running the farm and dividing the profits.  They divided all the land equally among them.  Each received a 20 acre strip where his home was built, and equal parts of the day farm.  Don and Maggie were living with Mother Jones in the old home at the time and they received this as their portion.  On 10 November, 1918, the Jones Family was saddened by the death of their Mother, who died of Pneumonia.  Flu was everywhere and all public meetings were banned on September 1, 1918.  Even funerals were held in the cemetery and there was no church, nor any recreational events held.  All through the long winter and the next summer the epidemic continued to take it’s toll.  Finally as fall came, and cases became fewer, on October 19, 1919, the ban was lifted and life returned to normal. 

Perhaps to celebrate, Kate and Henry bought their first car.  A Model T Ford.  How excited they were.  After so many years with horse and buggy this was truly a luxury. 

As the years passed, their hard work began to pay off and they were able to build two more rooms on their home in St. John.  Kate’s sister, Stella, had married and was raising a family.  She and her husband Edward Crowther had built a beautiful brick home right next door to her folks in Malad.  Sadness came to them, again, when their father William R. Evans died on February 14, 1924.  Then on June 10 1924, Kate went to the Hospital in Salt Lake again.  This time to have surgery on her nose.  She loved to sing, but had so many colds. Perhaps this would help some. 

Another year passed and the loss of her father was eased with time and Kate and Henry planned a trip.  They had been married for 12 years and decided to go to California.  The local paper carried the following article.  Dec. 22, 1925- For the first time in the history of the Malad branch, we are told, a standard sleeper was run over the rails last Monday, for the accommodation of those desiring to take advantage of it for the Los Angeles excursion. 

Agent Bowen sold 42 tickets straight thru to Los Angeles Monday morning.  Tuesday morning 38 tickets were sold at the local station for Los Angeles.  A number drove to Ogden in autos and in the Lowry bus, running the total of those from Malad Valley taking advantage of the cheap California rates to more than 100. 

Kate and Henry were so excited.  It was their first trip outside the Malad Valley, except to Salt Lake City.  Kate kept a piece of cardboard paper in her purse and wrote just a few lines on it each day about where they went and what they did.  This was her diary for the trip, so she could share this adventure with the family when she got home. 

Arrived at Berkley 8 A.M. Dec. 23.  University Stadium Greek Theater.  Crossed Bay from Oakland to San Francisco.  Dec 24; visited Cliff House, Aquarium, Academy of Science, Golden Gate park, called on Dode and Ada, (friends).  Dec 25; walked out to the docks to see big ships, took sight seeing car around the city.  Left San Francisco 7:45 A.M. Dec. 26; arrived Los Angeles 8 P.M.  Dec. 27: visited Long Beach and San Pedro.  Took boat excursion across and went on War Ship ‘Idaho’ (bad on motor boat) Dec. 27: went to theater.   Dec. 29L went sightseeing through Los Angeles, Pasadena, Hollywood, Long Beach.  Left Los Angeles on Dec. 30 thru San Joaquin Valley. 

Their life was full and good, marred only by their inability to have children, in spite of visits to the doctor, many prayers, and much faith.  

Then in April 1926 their faith and prayers were answered.  One day a man they knew named Gene Dalton came to visit them.  They knew that his wife had died and left a baby daughter, but they were surprised when Gene asked them if they would like to raise the child.  They told him they would think about it and let him know their answer in a few days. 

How many thoughts were in their minds: Surely this was an answer to their prayers; How wonderful it would be to have this daughter; What if Gene decided to take her back in a few years; Did they want a child 8 months old?  Finally they came to the conclusion that they would take little Betty Gene if they could legally adopt her. 

Gene at this time was doing some deep thinking.  His deceased wife’s aunts wanted to raise Betty, as they had her mother, and had threatened to obtain legal custody of her.  Gene knew she needed a home with a mother and father, and so decided to let the Jones adopt Betty so she would be guaranteed of this home.  His only stipulation was that she have a knowledge of her parenthood and that he be allowed to visit her.  The Jones’ readily agreed to this.  On 26 April, 1926, they all went to the courthouse in Malad, and the papers were signed.  Henry and Kate had a nine month old daughter.  

At home it was like open house.  All the relatives for miles came to see the new daughter.  Being a very bold child (even then) Betty loved the attention and smiled and visited with all of them.   

An entirely new phase in their life began.  Betty was learning to walk, and Kate and Henry were sure she was the only child in the world to accomplish this feat.  In fact, everything she did was wonderful and near perfect.  Their child was a miracle to them.  Kate read and cut out every article she could on raising a child.  The “Child” didn’t seem to conform to any of them.  She never stopped running.  Kate lived in fear that something would happen to Betty Jean and not only would she lose a child, but Gene Dalton would have placed his confidence in them all in vain, so she became a little overly protective towards her young daughter. 

Every chance she got, Betty rean for the ditch.  Finally Henry and Tim Woozley began building a high net-wire fence around the yard. They were almost finished and had only to put the gate in place, when Betty discovered what good sport it was to crawl over the fence.  They never did put the gate on.   

Kate’s fears of the ditch were well founded, for one day she missed Betty and immediately ran for the ditch.  Sure enough, Betty had fallen in, but had miraculously pulled herself out.  There she stood in her little blue striped coveralls, all wet and muddy, but completely happy with her first swim.  Kate could think of no way to relieve her tension and relief except to scream.  She always had screamed when she was frightened and realized she probably always would. 

Henry loved to take Betty with him whenever he could.  She loved all the farm animals, especially the horses, and he would put her on old Bally and let her ride around the barnyard.  Bally was so old and slow she never would throw her off. 

Whoever wrote the song ‘Summertime and the Livin’ is Easy’, had never lived on a farm.  The first job in the spring, sometimes before the snow was gone, was to clan out the corals if manure.  It was loaded into a manure spreader by the farmer with his trusty pitch fork and then pulled out to the field by his team of work horses, where the spreader sent it flying over the field to fertilize the crop that was already planted, or would be when the weather broke. 

Branding the cattle was the next job.  This was a rather brutal ritual, but necessary.  All the young stock were rounded up and put in the wooden coral, where one by one they were lassoed, thrown down, and branded with a hot iron shaped to the farmers specifications.  Each calf was earmarked and some farmers cut a waddle on the cheek or neck ( a piece of skin cut and left to heal as a mark of that farmer).  The bull calves were made into steer calves.   Later that month they were driven to the mountains and turned loose on the open range to feed for the summer.   

Next any spring crops were planted.  Row crops were the potatoes, sugar beets, alfalfa, barley, oats, spring wheat, and of course the garden.  There were always the barbed wire fences to mend.  The Homestead was bordered on three sides by range and it was a never ending battle to keep the range cattle off the grain. 

Summer brought more work.  The alfalfa usually yielded three crops during a summer and had to be watered.  When it was high enough, the farmer cut it with his team pulling the ride-on-mower.  When it had dried a few days, he raked it with the horse drawn ride-on rake.  It was raked in rows, then raked the other direction and dumped in bunches.  When these were dry, the team was hooked to a wagon and driven between the rows of hay and one man on each side threw a bunch of hay on the wagon where another person (usually a boy or girl) arranged the hay and tromped it.  When the rack was full, it was taken to the stack yard by the barn and unloaded with a derrick and jackson fork into a stack, where it was held until winter to feed the stock.  By using three wagons it took only a day or two to haul each farmer’s hay crop.  This way the farmers helped each other get a crop in while the weather was good, 

At noon the horses were fed, watered, and left to rest for an hour and a half.  The men went to dinner, served by the farmers wife and perhaps a neighbor woman or a hired girl to help.  This was a huge meal of meat, potatoes and gravy, a vegetable or two from the garden, hot biscuits, pickles, jam and fruit, or a cake or pie.  After this feast the men went outside and had a nap in the shade.  This was a Welch tradition and also needed by the men and animals, for the day began before sunup and work ended after dark.  At times, if the weather were good and it was real hot, they took two or three hours for lunch. 

Every farm usually had milk cows.  Modern day recycling was nothing new for a farmer.  He fed the cow, milked her twice a day, and she gave him milk for drinking, cream for his mush, and butter for his bread, and one calf a year.  She provided fertilizer for his crops and meat for his table.  Anything left over was fed to the pigs, and if she died, he skinned her and sold the hide. 

The horses were equally important.  They pulled all the farm equipment, and the sleigh that took the family to town, church or visiting.  The farmer rode the horse to round up his cattle, to take him where he wanted to go, and he was the kids chief source of entertainment. 

Pigs ate the garbage and anything else left over (grain, etc.) Then they reproduced a fine crop of little pigs.  Sometimes one and sometimes as many as 20.  Usually about eight.  Every fall the men got together and killed pigs for winter meat.  The pig was caught with a rope, then herded or pulled to the big old apple tree in the yard..  Here he was hit in the head to stun him and then his throat was slit and he was hung up by the hind legs till he would bleed to death.  Then he was slit open from the neck to the tail and the insides fell out in an old tub, to be fed to the chickens.  The pig was then lowered into a barrel of boiling water, pulled out and the hair scraped off.  The pig was then pulled high into the tree to hand overnight.  The next day the farmer and his wife cut the pig up.  There were two hams, two shoulders, two bacon, and two long strips of tenderloin.   The fat was rendered out on the old cookstove into lard, the backbone was cut into roasts, some of the women made head cheese ( a kind of luncheon meat) some used the kidneys and liver.  The ham, shoulders, and bacon were cured with salat and hung in flour sacks in the cellar house, or just covered and left on the back porch table till it was needed.   Four or five pigs were treated this way and lasted all winter this way and lasted all winter and into the summer. 

Every farm also had a flock of chickens.  They were ordered early in the spring and raised under a heat brooder until the weather warmed up.  Then they were kept in the chicken coop.  The roosters were used for fried chicken and the hens were kept to lay eggs.   They ate leftover grain, garbage, and were sometimes killed for a roasting hen, or when they were old they made good soup. 

Sometimes in the winter, when it was sure the meat would remain frozen, a calf or sheep was killed for meat.  This was a real treat from the usual pork diet. 

To supplement the meat, there was always a big garden near the house.  This was usually the housewives responsibility.  There was radishes, lettuce, onions, peas, beets, beans, carrots, corn, squash, cucumbers, chard, and a row or two of flowers.  Anything that wasn’t eaten was canned for winter, and by fall the cellar would be full of bottled fruit, and the root crops in gunny sacks in the pit to keep until the next season.  Not too many vegetables were canned because there were no pressure cookers in those days.  Near the house there was usually apple trees, and beneath them always a clump or two of rhubarb, and a gooseberry bush, and a few rows of raspberries. 

The housewife even made her own soap from the leftover lard and lye.  This was a days job, and usually done outdoors over the same firehole used to heat the water to scrape the pigs.  The soap was cooked and tested and the children were warned to keep away, lest they should get burned, or poisoned by the lye.  

The farmer had to provide his own fuel too.  Usually after the fall work was done he hooked his team to the wagon and went to the hills for a load of wood.  This was an all day job, to cut the trees, branch them off, load that on the wagon and drive some 10 miles back home.  Then the wood had to be sawed into stove lengths and split into stove size pieces.  Quaking Ash trees dried fast and made a hot fire, that or pine, but if you could get a maple that was hard wood to cut, but it held the fire all night.  Usually about once a year a man came around with a big power saw and cut all the wood into stove lengths. Sometimes the man of the house went to town and brought a load of coal home to burn with the wood. 

Monday was always a washday.  Before the sun ever came up, the fire was made ready in the old cook stove and a boiler of water put on to heat.  The homemade soap was shaved into the boiler to melt as the water heated.  The clothes were sorted into four piles; whites, two colored, and the last batch, which was overalls, rugs, or rags.  The clothes were washed on the wash board, rinsed, wrung out, and hung to dry on the line or the fence.  If your wash wasn’t out by 9 or 10 A.M.  you were a real poor housekeeper.   

The big crop of the year was the wheat.  The ground was plowed in the summer, left till the next summer, weeded, harrowed, and in the fall drilled with wheat.  The grain came up before snowfall, was covered with snow till spring, came up again, grew and ripened until the last part of July, and was then harvested.  All summer he watched it grow, cut the wild oats out by hand, kept the range cattle off, and most of all watched the weather.  If there wasn’t enough snow in winter to cover the grain it winter-killed with frost. 

The farmer read the sky every day of his life.  Lightning could set the ripe grain on fire.  Hail could cut it to ribbons in a matter of minutes.  Too much rain and it molded.   Too little and it dried up.  Clear, hot days were needed when it was time to harvest.  When that day came, the harvesters came too.  They had a combine which was pulled by about 12 head of horses and all the men needed to work the machine and horses. The farmer’s wife fed the men and the farmer fed the horses.  I remember Ozzie Kent and his crew cutting our grain more than one year.  They had bed rolls on the lawn and mother fed them for three meals for about a week; so much work.  What a relief it was when the grain was all cut and in the granery.  The farmer’s life was one big gamble.  It was back breaking work.  Twelve to sixteen hours a day, but it was a way of life.  A good year and you had a little money in the bank after the bills were paid, a bad year and you just tightened your belt and hoped for a good crop next year.  There was always enough food to eat. 

One fall, Henry pulled an old shanty down in the field between his and Archs’ house and that winter went to the reservoir, cut ice blocks, stored them in the shanty with lots of sawdust, and had cold food that summer from a little ice box on the back porch.  This was a real luxury and Kate was so thankful for it.  

They also built a nice big barn south of the house and across the ditch.  There were stalls for eight cows, and in the east end were stalls for four or five horses, and a place to hang the bridles and harnesses.  In the top of the barn was a hay loft.  This made it easier to feed the animals, and provided dry hay.  ( It was also a lovely place to hide and daydream when I was growing up.)  Other farm buildings were of course, the pig pen, the chicken coop, the granary, the garage, the out=house (toilet), a coral for the horses, and one for the calves. 

Not too many holidays were celebrated.  Easter Sunday called for a new dress, hat, shoes, and gloves to wear to church, and all summer too.  How Kate wished she were a fine seamstress, but she wasn’t.  She could make a nice front apron, or sew a simple little dress for Betty Jean, and it was wonderful to use the nice Singer Sewing Machine Henry had bought for her to patch and sew quilt tops, but she just didn’t care to sew a great deal. Nellie Thomas did fine sewing and she sewed for other people, in fact, she made lots of nice dresses for Betty and for Kate.  It was less expensive than buying one at the Co-op Department Store, or at Mrs. Peltons. 

The biggest celebration of the year was the 4th of July.  there was always a full day of entertainment in Malad.  At sunrise the cannon was shot to start the day.  At 10 A.M. everyone in the Valley had lined the streets to watch the parade.  After that viewing was over, the folks went up to the school square for the rest of the day.  There were races of all kinds and a baseball game for the men and children.  The ladies sat in the shade under the trees and visited.  Many families took a lunch and there were always booths made of boards and gaily decorated with crepe paper (red, white, and blue of course) where one could buy hot dogs, ice cream, pink popcorn, balloons, home-made cake , pie and candy.  There was usually an out-of-town vendor selling cupie dolls, fans, etc.   Every child was equipped with a cap gun and caps, and many a game of cowboy and Indian were in progress all day.  There was a program too, with patriotic speeches and songs.  A majority of the people were farmers, and so about 4:00 everyone went home to do chores.  The cows had to be milked, pigs, chickens, horses, fed twice a day no matter what. After supper there was usually a dance in town and a picture show.  Sometimes there were fireworks for everyone to wonder and be amazed about.  Always it was a chance for the Evans girls to meet a the old home and let their children play while they visited, and of course, it was Betty Jean’s birthday!  She seemed to think all the excitement of the day was for her birthday.  After they bought their Model A Ford they ventured to Downey, Idaho ( 21 miles north) and west to a swimming resort of Downata for the day.  Kate was worried about all that water, but Betty loved it and they had a nice picnic lunch under the trees in the park.  They were very tired when they got home because the car wouldn’t pull them all up the divide between the two valleys.  Kate and Betty had to get out and walk up one hill, while Henry drove the car up and waited at the top for them.  He had tried, in vain, to teach Kate to drive, but it just made her too nervous to even try.  Kate was glad to be home again.  She loved her home and was glad Henry and Betty enjoyed swimming.  She didn’t and was afraid of the water.  At times when she had gone to Lava Hot Springs with the Mutual Girls, she had just watched, or sat in the shallow water. 

Thanksgiving was a big day for visiting and eating.  A typical day at Henry’s  sister, Rachel and Tom Davis, was celebrated the following way.  There was usually lots of snow then and so the team was hitched to the sleigh.  Clean, dry straw was scattered in the wagon box, and the loading began.  One person would sit with their back to the side of the box and the next one in would sit on an opposite side until the sleigh was full.  Each person had a hot brick or rock wrapped in a piece of old blanket at his feet, and lots of good, warm, homemade quilts were piled on top.  By the time Arch and Mae and their 6 girls; Miles and Rosalie and Edith; David and Mag and their three; Don and Maggie and their 7; Henry and Kate and their one, all got loaded there was usually about three sleighs full and the four mile trip began.  From Rhoda Thomas’ to Tommie Lewis;, the road had not been used and the drifts of snow were up to the horse’s belly, so the going was slow, and took about two hours.  Rachel was a good cook and the boy’s back  bedroom was full of food, as well as the kitchen.  There was roast chicken, turkey, goose, duck, ham, beef; mashed potatoes piled as high as the bowls would hold; rich brown gravy; several vegetables; lots of salads; and the deserts!  Pies of every kind, cakes a foot high covered with white icing and coconut; steamed puddings and fruit cake.  Rachel was used to cooking big meals with eight children to feed and seven of them big men.  What a good day of fun it was!  

Christmas was the next event to celebrate.  Sometimes, if the weather was good, Henry would bring a Cedar Tree from the ranch, or they bought a pine from whoever came around with a load of them to sell to all the farmers.  There was the excitement of making presents and hiding them so Betty couldn’t find them.   Usually a box high on the closet shelf was the best place.  A big lump of coal in the heater would usually keep the front room warm till morning came, and the fun of getting up to see what Santa had left under the tree.  It was hard for Kate to deceive Betty by telling her that Santa had left the gifts.  Guess there was such a thing as being too honest. 

Betty’s Daddy Gene always came to visit her before Christmas and brought her a nice gift each year.  

The Fall of 1931 was sad.  Betty Jean went to school.  Kate was so lonely for her, but glad there were lots of neighbor kids to look out for her and the school was only about a mile and a half away.  

The core of their lives centered around the church, farm, and Betty.  (Church positions held are listed separately at the end of the story.)  Kate continued to sing at almost every funeral in Malad Valley.  She felt this was a service she was happy to share with others, but sometimes wondered if it helped to ease the sadness the family of the deceased felt.  Then one day, she received a letter from W. W. Leigh.  Kate and Alice’s daughter Merle had sung in his father’s funeral a day or so before, and Mr.  Leigh had written. “Personally, your song was the most beautiful I have ever heard at a service, at least it so appealed to me.  That service was your song.  I shall remember it always.  I am certainly indebted to both of you.”  She continued to have colds and the Doctors had told her that singing kept the nasal passages open and made them irritated and subjected to infection, but each time she received appreciation such as this, it was hard to stop singing.  Besides, she received so much pleasure from it.  

One morning she got up with a cold, but had ‘hay men’ to cook dinner for, so was busy with her work.  About 11:00 the cold turned to good old-fashioned croup, and suddenly, she couldn’t even breathe or speak.  She was so frightened and sent a very frightened Betty to the barn after Henry.  He ran to the house and found her gasping for air, turning blue and in a panic.  The other men had come to the house too and Henry and Arch immediately administered to her.  May was called over, and soon the breathing eased and she was able to finish preparing dinner. 

One program she was especially pleased to sing in was when the 50sth anniversary of the Presbyterian Church was held in Malad.  This was in the church where she had first gone to school and she and Merle (now Mrs. Dave Lusk) sang a duet ‘Son of my Soul’. 

Henry walked along behind the harrow, pulled by the sturdy team, and wondered how many times he had walked over this same field.  It was so dry and he and the team seemed to take turns sneezing and coughing to clear the dust from their nose and throat.  “Woah,” Henry called, and the team didn’t need to be coaxed to stop.  He unhitched them, hooked the tugs up, pulled off the bridles, and turned them in the coral to feed and water while he had lunch.  Inside the empty granary, it was a little cooler, and Betty Jean was there with their lunch ready to eat.  She had spent the morning cleaning out the granary with an old broom and was full of excitement about how she had sat real still and watched a big old Blow Snake catch and eat a mouse.  Sure enough he was still laying there with a big bump in his stomach and she wasn’t even worried about it.  Henry marveled at this child of his.  She didn’t seem to be afraid of anything, well maybe lightning.  “You’d better not tell your mother about the snake, she doesn’t like them, and if she knew about this one, she probably wouldn;t let you come with me anymore,” Henry cautioned Betty. 

He enjoyed having her come to the ranch with him and had cautioned her about the Rattle Snakes.  She enjoyed playing around the windmill in the mud and often rode the pinto mare behind the harrow as he worked.  She seemed to live on the horse, even when she fell off, she just climbed right back on again.  He was glad Arch and Mae had a daughter the same age as Betty.  She and Maisie were best of friends, when she wasn’t playing with Don and Maggies son Calvin.  Kate was alway fussing about Betty being a tomboy.  Henry didn’t care, he loved her no matter what she did.  It tickled him the way she had set out the lunch Kate had prepared for them. He asked the blessing  on the food, and hoped she would learn from his example to do what was right. 

Back behind the harrow after his lunch and an hour’s nap, Henry had time to think, seemed the farmer always had plenty of time to think, he worked alone so much of the time.  He was glad he had married Kate and that they had Betty and he was thankful for the Gospel in their lives, but he thought they should take Betty to the temple and have her sealed to them.  Kate said no, it was a decision that Betty should make for herself as to which family she should be sealed to.  Well, time would tell, and right now in this life, they were enjoying her. 

Henry decided to sing for a while.  That always cheered him up and he lustily gave his rendition of ‘Red River Valley’, followed by another of his favorites, ‘Red Wing’.  Out here no one could hear him, but he didn’t care.  His neighbors in St. John were always teasing him about his singing as he worked, especially as he did his early morning chores.  He liked to sing the Church Hymns then, sort of started the day out right.  A good strong verse or two of ‘Secret Prayer’ always made the milking go faster, besides, if his brothers and sisters didn’t hear him singing at his work, they always came around to see if Henry was sick. 

It seemed to Henry that just as things started going really well, something always happened.  Lets see, it was on 2 June this year of 1931 that his sister Gint’s husband, Miles Slatter, had died and left her and Edith alone.  Miles had been a Pharmacist and he had enjoyed going into Dick Davis’ Drug Store and visiting with Miles.  Rosalie was his baby sister, and he had always tried to watch out for her.  It was real sad, but he guessed she would be alright.  Edie was 15 and would still be with her mother for a few more years and they had a nice house to live in.  He was glad she lived close to the rest of them so they could keep in touch.  Tommie was the only one to live outside the valley and he lived clear off in Ely, Nevada, and worked in the mines.  Maybe sometime they could go visit he and Lily and get to know their two daughters. 

Henry did go to Nevada to see Tommie the very next year.  But it was not a happy reunion, because on the day after Christmas 1932, Tommie was having his after dinner nap, and died quietly in his sleep.  Henry and some of the other family members went to the funeral and felt a keen loss over the death of their brother. 

Henry and Kate were working hard as always that spring of 1935, when one day, Henry was called by the Stake President for a meeting.  Henry came home quite shaken.  He had been asked to be Bishop of the St John Ward.  Stake Conference in Malad was coming up and he was to be ordained a High Priest and voted in during the conference.  After many prayers and soul searching, Henry decided that if the Lord thought he could do it, he probably could.  Apostle Charles A. Callus ordained him and he was set apart as Bishop on 14 April 1935.  His Bishop’s Certificate was #2473 and was signed by President Heber j. Grant, J. Ruben Clark Jr. , and David O. McKay.  Henry felt so inadequate because of his lack of schooling and he had never even taken charge of a meeting before.  His counselors  Nathan Melvin Yearsley, R. Andrew Blaisdell, with Henry Noble as Ward Clerk, and their work began. 

Life wasn’t all work though, Henry remembered one Sunday morning when they were bouncing over the rough roads to Stake Conference in Malad and saw a wheel go rolling past them and off to the side of the road.  Almost before they had time to wonder where it came from they found out, and the little Model A Ford lost its balance and came to an abrupt halt.  Shortly thereafter, on August 21, 1937, Kate and Henry bought a new, blue, Chevrolet Sedan.  It seemed so big and spacious to them, even their new license plate seemed bigger.  The number on it was 9K-909. 

One thing Henry enjoyed about being Bishop was the visiting with everyone.  Whenever they got together for a Bishop’s Meeting they could visit too.  Sometimes they listened to Admiral Richard Byrd’s report from the Antarctic.  It was so amazing to be able to hear him talk from all that way and realize how cold and isolated his men were.  President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s Fireside Chats were of interest to them also.  Henry wanted to get the young men in the ward more interested in their Priesthood work and went with a group of them on an outing to an amusement park north of Salt Lake called ‘Lagoon’.  He took Kate and Betty with them in their new car.  What a good day that was.  It was such a pleasure to go over to Downata without anyone having to get out and walk up the hills.  It even went right up the dirt road to the ranch.  Yes, the car was a good investment. 

There were two things that Henry didn’t like to do.  One was conduct a funeral and the other was to marry couples.  He just didn’t know what to say at such times.  Church meetings were o.k. And sometimes, Betty came up to the stand and sat on his lap.  He always had a few pink peppermints or a little piece of bitter licorice in his pocket to keep her quiet during the meetings.  

Henry and Kate were always delighted when Betty did anything a little outstanding.  Kate’s sister Annie gave piano lessons and since they had a piano, Betty took lessons.  Betty would rather have been out riding her horse, or swinging on a Tarzan swing the Noble boys had rigged up in the trees across the lane.  However, she did play a little piece at  a recital and they were pleased. 

In 1938, the M.I.A. made quilt blocks and had each class get people to sign their names on the blocks for five cents each.  There were eight names on each block,  Then the class members embroidered the names, the Relief Society quilted them into a quilt, and at a Ward dance, everyone’s names were put into a box, and whoever’s name was drawn out won the quilt.  Henry was Bishop, so he stood in the middle of the dance floor and asked Betty to come and draw a name out.  How sweet, she drew her own name.  “Well,” said Bishop Jones, “We’ll have to draw again.”  But everyone said “No, we all watched and it was done fair and square, the quilt is Bettys.” so Betty had the first item for her hope chest.  

Now that Henry was Bishop, and had a new car, he decided they should go to a General Conference in Salt Lake.  They would stay in a hotel and attend four meetings.  Kate was very worried that someone would hit them over the head and steal their money, or that they would have a wreck, but all went well and they had a very nice time. 

Sadness came to the Evans family again on 1 June, 1938, Sister Maggie died.  Kate wondered if life would ever bring happiness to her again.  

Fall of 1939 came and Henry had dug a new potato pit and it was full of potatoes to sell during the winter.  The crops had all been good that year and they felt that their problems were pretty much behind them.  

Halloween was always a fun time, at least for the young people.  They dressed up in their costumes and went about scaring everyone.  No ‘trick or treat’ in those days.  Sometimes they soaped windows and the older boys always seemed to tip over a few outhouses just for fun, but no real damage was done.  

Henry sat in the warm snug kitchen with his feet in the oven reading and dozing.  He wasn’t really  comfortable because his stomach was aching.  Finally he got up and fixed himself a spoonful of soda in a glass of water to see if that would relieve the gas, but it was really miserable.  Kate was helping Betty with her lessons.  She was a Freshman in High School now and anxious to learn everything in one year.  Kate, seeing Henry’s distress, suggested he go to bed, which he did.  Next morning his gas was better and at breakfast they talked about what a good day it was going to be.  “November 16, and still no snow and only a little frost, the ditch isn’t even frozen over yet.”  Henry commented, “I’m going over and help Arch haul manure out of his barnyard today.”  “Well fine, but bring me a couple of buckets of coal from the barn before you go and I’ll bake bread today,”  Kate answered.  “Betty, if you don’t hurry Millie will be here to give you a ride to school and you won’t be ready.  It’s too cool to ride the horse.”  Henry went out, picked up the coal buckets off the porch, and walked to the barn.  On the way he stopped to feed the chickens and take a little grain to the pigs, kick the hay closer to the calf as he passed the manger and observe, with pleasure, the fine stack of hay in the yard.  He still didn’t  feel too good.  Seemed to have some gas again after his breakfast.  Well, it would probably pass off when he moved around a bit.  Inside the barn he filled the buckets with coal, but just as he began carrying them out through the door, the pain struck.  Henry fell to the ground and lay still.  His spirit gone to his Father in Heaven, his life on earth finished. 

Back in the house, Kate assumed Henry had forgotten to bring the coal, so she went to the barn to get it.  There she found the lifeless body of Henry.  Her husband, her love, the man she had chosen for time and eternity had left her.  Kate screamed again and again until Arch came running from his barnyard.  Maggie came running up the lane, Mae ran down through the field, and soon their children came too.  When Aunt Kate screamed something was wrong.  Their brother, their Uncle, their friend had died, and each did what must be done next.  Mae went to the house to Betty, another called Mr. Benson the undertaker, the men lifted Henry and carried him to the house.  Just past the pig pen, Betty came and found them with her Daddy.  They carried him past her and on up to the house.   She went on to the barn and sat on the ground by the door where they said he had died.  Her Daddy was gone, what would she do?  She cried a little then, but her mother had taught her not to be a cry baby, so she went to the ditch and washed her face  in cold water so the tear stains wouldn’t show, and then went to the house.  Henry’s body was laying on the old cot in the front room where he used to lay down for his afternoon nap.  They were changing his clothes, because Kate didn’t want him to leave without clean underwear on.   

It was Thursday and all day long people came to offer their sympathy, with a kind word, an arm about the shoulder, a hand squeeze, offers of help and food.  Decisions were made.  The viewing would be in their front room on Friday night and Saturday before the funeral.  The services would have to be held in the Stake Tabernacle in Malad on Saturday at 2;00.  It would be too long to wait till Monday for the burial.  Kate would have liked to have the services in the St. John Ward, but the old recreation hall in the school house just wouldn’t be big enough for everyone. 

It was Saturday, the viewing was over. Kate’s brother-in-law had given the prayer, Kate kissed Henry for the last time on this earth, and the lid on the casket was closed.  The nephews carried the casket out through the door, through the little gate and into the hearse.  Kate stood in the door and looked after Henry’s body, down the aisle, the flower girls made as they stood quietly holding all the beautiful flowers that had been sent.  Behind her, Betty looked too and all the tears the 14 year old girl had held inside, all the panic she felt, came out.  There was no way anyone was going to make her walk through all those flowers they had carried her father through.  She sobbed and clung to the bookcase and refused to move.  Only Kate’s loving arms and soothing words persuaded her to at last do that which was expected of her, to go to her father’s  funeral.  Her tears stopped.  She cried no more. 

The funeral was over.  Henry had been laid to rest near the other members of his family in the family plot at the St. John Cemetery.  Kate slept fitfully, lonely in the bed she had shared with Henry for 27 years.  She was awakened by the sound of Betty crying.  Hurriedly she went to her bedroom to comfort the sobbing girl.  “There, there, it is all right, it’s all right.”  What else could she say, when she too was trying so hard to hold back the tears.   “Oh mumma, I dreamed of Daddy, he was here with me in my bedroom. He stood here by the bed, and I said ‘Oh Daddy I’ve been so lonesome without you,’ and he said I’m right here with you all the time.’  Then he was gone.  Oh Mumma, I’m so glad he’s still here with us.”  The two who were left held each other and cried. 

Poem                                AWAY by James Whitcomb Riley 

I cannot say and I will not say  

That he is dead–he is just away.   

With a cheery smile and a wave of the hand 

He has wandered into an unknown land, 

And left us dreaming how very fair 

It needs must be, since he lingers there.    

And you- O you, who the wildest yearn 

For the old-time step and the glad return. 

Think of him faring on, as dear 

In the love of There as the love of Here. 

Mild and gentle as he was brave– 

When the sweetest love of his life he gave 

To simple things; where the violets grew 

Blue as the eyes they were likened to, 

The touches of his hands have strayed 

As reverently as his lips have prayed; 

When the little brown thrush that harshly chirred 

Was as dear to him as the mockingbird; 

And he pitied as much as a man in pain 

A writhing Honey-bee wet with rain. 

Think of him still as the same, I say; 

He is not dead–he is just away! 

The lonely days of winter moved on, Thanksgiving- lonely, Christmas- lonely, and at last Spring- that was lonely too.  Everyone was good to help with the farming and that year Kate hired most of it done.  By the next year she got Rachel’s son, Dale Davis, to take over the farm work.  

Kate didn’t believe she could live without Henry, let alone manage the farm, raise a child, make decisions, but she did.  The Lord loved her, and cares for all his children, “Blessed are they who mourn,” he said,  “For they shall be comforted.”  And they were.  

She was so thankful for Betty.  She had learned to drive now and they could go and visit family members, and get their shopping done in town.  

Kate felt one of her biggest problems was her worrying.  She just fussed and worried about everything.  Betty was just the opposite.  She never worried about anything and was always happy and a little unconcerned about life in general. 

Kate had lots of trouble with her feet hurting and one hot summer day Betty called her to come outside.  “Mother, I have read of a cure for your feet.  You soak them in mud and I’ve brought this bucket full from the creek for you.”  Well Kate had her doubts and was sure that if it were to help, it should be a very special mud, but she put her feet in the bucket for a while and assured Betty that they felt much better. 

Betty was such a tease and one day when Kate was hanging clothes, Betty came to her with a huge angle worm.  Seeing that her mother was frightened by this wet, wiggly thing, threatened to put it down her neck.  Kate screamed and ran with Betty right behind her holding the back neck of her dress out and dangling the worm above it.  Well Kate knew she wouldn’t really drop it, but in all the running and wiggling the worm did fall down in and there it was, caught between her and her corset, wiggling, wet and slimy.  Finally after many more screams, Betety got the worm out and never did try to scare her mother with worms or snakes again. 

One year, as a Christmas gift, Betty’s father, Gene Dalton, gave her a beautiful Cocker Spaniel puppy.  They named him Sandy, because of his color, and he was without a doubt Kate’s dog.  It was the first dog ever raised in her house, but she loved him and he became the third member of the household. 

On December 7, 1941, the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, and World War II began.  Young men were drafted.  Sugar, tires, gas, shoes, and many other items were rationed and ration books were issued.  Nylon stockings were hard to get and people stood in line for hours to buy them. 

Betty was busy with High School, dances, boys, and even dating a little.  Kate continued to work in the church, and enjoyed going to the Temple and doing genealogy work for her dead ancestors.  Kate usually stayed with Mother and Annie while Betty went to the Saturday night dance in Malad, and sometimes on Friday night while she went to a ball game or dance at school.  In May 1943, Betty graduated from High School and surprised her mother by going to work as a Nurses’ Aide at the Oneida County Hospital.  All winter and spring Betty had been dating Lynn Richards and for her birthday he gave her a diamond and they were engaged.  Her daughter was growing up and slipping away from her.  Kate was sad, and yet happy that things were going well. 

At times, people would say to her, “Kate, you’re still a young woman and nice looking.  Soon Betty will marry and you’ll be all alone.  Why don’t you go out and get you a man?’  Well, Kate was highly insulted.  How could she marry someone else when she still loved Henry, and always would.  In fact she had a lovely poem that told exactly how she felt about it. 

Poem                                  As Long As I Last 

I shall remember you, my love as long as I am here, 

And life still holds a memory of any yesteryear, 

As long as there is breath in me, and vision in my mind, 

Of all we had together once, and all we left behind.  

Your laughter in the morning when, the sun was on the street, 

Your gentle silence in the dusk when shadows touched our feet,  

The song that echoed softly in the words of every verse, 

When he agreed to share our lived, for better or for worse. 

I shall remember you, my love, for all the wondrous past, 

And I shall love you faithfully, how long I last. 

There was no interest in any other man for Kate.  She had chosen Henry for time and all eternity, and she would wait to be with him. 

On 7 June, 1944, Betty and Lynn were married in the Logan Temple.  Kate was really alone now, even though the newlyweds lived just south of Malad and came to visit often.  They had bought a little trailer house and parked it under the trees by Lynn’s parent’s home. Lynn continued to help his father and work for Albert Milward.  However, in January 1945, the draft took Lynn to the Army.  The trailer house was moved up by Kate’s house and Betty was back home.  Kate was glad to have her, because she had been so lonely, and Betty was expecting a baby.  

Kate was very upset.  Betty was going all the way to California on the bus and her in the ‘family-way’.  The very idea was frightening and for the thousandth time in the 20 years she had been Betty’s mother she said, “I’ll never understand you.”  Betty went to California and was there for a month before Lynn received orders to go overseas.  Betty was on her way home. 

Kate sat quietly in the spring sunshine that filtered through the first little leaves on the Chinese Elm Tree just outside the back door.  She was glad  Betty was on her way home.  She thought of all those she had loved and lost; William, Mary, Maggie, and just last Christmas Day sister Alice had passed away.  She had been partially paralyzed from a stroke for quite a few years, but was always jolly when Kate visited with her.  She knew who would be the next one to leave them.  Her mother had been sick and she wondered what they would do without this wonderful blessing they loved. On 10 May, 1945, Mother Margaret joined the other members of her family who had preceded her beyond the veil.  Betty was home in time for the funeral and once again they bore the sadness of parting with a loved one. 

Four more months and she would be a Grandma.  Kate was as happy as she dared be.  Those nearest to her knew she felt just a little cheated by missing the opportunity of carrying a child and cuddling a baby, but now with Betty there, she seemed to be having this time as almost a second chance.  She even kept calm when Betty told her she was having labor pains, and that was an accomplishment for her.  In only five hours, Betty had given birth to a nine pound baby girl with red hair.  The ten days they stayed in the hospital seemed like forever, but soon they were home and she could feed, bathe, and cuddle the baby as if it were her own Betty as a baby.  The nine months before Gay Lynn was born and the year after was a time of fulfillment for Kate. 

Of all the Church positions she had held, Kate decided she enjoyed being the Kindergarten Teacher in Sunday School the most.  She loved all the little children so much, and they said and did such cute things.  She remembered Little Ray, son of Raymond and Maxine Horsley, especially.  One Sunday she asked, “Do any of you know a poem you would like to recite for us?”  Ray held up his hand and recited: “Peter, Peter Pumpkin eater, had a wife and couldn’t keep her, put her in the sugar bowl, and flushed her down the toilet hole,”  Well, Kate thought, it might be out of place, but he had learned it well.  

In November 1946, the Relief Society was honoring some of the ladies and Kate’s sister-in-law, Mae Harris, gave the following tribute to her.   

Sister Kate E. Jones has labored in this organization for many years.  She has been a member ever since moving into the ward.  She served as counselor to Elviria J. Deschamps in 1916 and again to Nellie Thomas in 1942.  

She possesses all of the qualities of an executive leader, and has been a Visiting Teacher a number of years.  She was a very capable Class Leader and could give the lesson a little bit better than the average teacher.  She has served as organist and chorister and is blessed with a beautiful voice and it does one’s’ heart good to hear her join in the singing.  Many are the funerals she and her sister, Mary, have sung at, and consoled the ones in grief.   She is well read, is prompt and very dependable.   She is devout, and lives her religion to perfection.  In fact, she is one of the finest examples of a Latter Day Saint Woman it has been my pleasure to know. 

Lynn came home from Japan just a few days after Gay Lynns’ first birthday on 6 Sept, 1946, and that was a happy day for all of them.  The Richards’ lived in the trailer for a while, but it was just too small and they moved into the two front rooms of Grandpa Jake Richards’ house south of town.  Kate really missed them when they moved to Logan, Utah for a year of college for Lynn, and Betty was expecting a new baby in May of 1948. 

On May 23, 1948, Joan joined the family.  They still lived with Grandpa Jake, but were up for a visit almost every night because Lynn was using the barn to milk his cows in, and when the lease on the land was up with Dale Davis, Kate leased it to Betty and Lynn. 

Winter came again and what a winter!  Kate got up several times during the night to make sure there was fire going in the old cook stove so the water pipes wouldn’t freeze.  The local paper carried the following article:  The past month set a new record for the coldest weather in the history of Malad Valley since 1915, Junius Crowther reports.  There has been colder weather reported for certain days, but January of this year with 21 days of subzero weather brought the average temperature for the month to the lowest point for any one month since Mr. Crowther started to keep records in 1915.  There were 13 days below zero in 1937, 14 days below in 1930 and eight days below in 1936.  The coldest day of January of this year was 16 below, but 33 below was reported at the Malad airport on Jan. 25.  The snowfall for December, 1948, was 24.1 inches and for January 1949, was 32 inches making a total of 56.1 inches.  Although there have been winters when there has been more snowfall than during the past two months, the continuous cold has kept snow on the ground at a greater depth than previous winters. 

For eight days the high was 26 and the low a – 31 degrees.  And that was cold.  The Deseret News stated that the Weather Bureau officially called January, 1949, the worst we ever had.  Hundreds of people were snowbound and some stockmen lost every animal they owned.  That January turned out to be the coldest ever.  Even colder than records set in 1937.  There was so much snow they couldn’t even have Church or Relief Society or School.  The snow banks alongside the road, when the snowplow finally got through, were much higher than a car.  To top it all off, the water pump wasn’t working, and Kate had a kink in her back, and could hardly get out of bed.  Betty and the children came up to stay with her and help out a little. 

That Spring, Betty and Lynn rented the Old Tom Thomas home just half a mile from Kate.  It was more convenient for them to run the farm and it was so nice to have them within walking distance, and in the same ward. 

On 28 May, 1951, Betty and Lynn were blessed with a son, whom they named Jerry Calvin, and Kate had her third and last grandchild.  How she enjoyed these little grandchildren.  And they loved her too.  She always had time to rock them and read one of their little story books.  What fun they had dressing up in old clothes and playing house on her back porch. 

That summer, all the Jones relatives were surprised and happy to have a visit from Welsh cousins, Annie and Dick Morris.  They had several little parties and loved listening to stories of the ‘Old Country’. 

Stella’s daughter Valene Crowther had gone on an L.D.S. mission to California, and in the fall of 1951, Kate, Annie, and Sharon Crowther decided to take a trip to California and visit Valene.  Kate had a tiny little notepad in her purse and kept a diary of their trip, just as she had done on their 1925 California trip. 

Left home at 10 a.m. Monday, Sept. 3, 1951.  Changed bus at Salt Lake, left there 3 p.m. stopped several times on the way- Wendover, Elko, Reno etc. Reached San Francisco at 9:30, went to Federal Hotel, Valene had a room for us. 

Tues.:  Valene came to Hotel, we looked around Market Street. 

Wed.: Valene came, we went to ChinaTown.  Sharon went with Valene to the Mission Home.  After supper Annie and I went to a movie, (Show Boat). Home at 11:45.  Slept till 9 a.m. in the morning.   

Thurs.: Ed and Edie (Slatter-Williams) came for us and we went to the zoo, then to their home.  Watched television Peace Conference.  Had dinner 6:30, on the way home they took us down to Fisherman’s Wharf and all around Civic Center.  Back by 10:00.  Sharon stayed at the Mission Home. 

Fri.: Edith came at noon and took us to big stores.  Macey’s etc.  Saw Mollie E. and Kenna F.W. went to show U.S.A. and I had lunch and in the room early. 

Sat.:  Sharon and Valene went to Mission Home in the morning.  We shopped a little.  We all went on tour of the city at 2:15.  Home at 7:00.  After supper we went to the room and prepared for Sunday.  Valene stayed with us.  

Sun.: Went to San Francisco Ward for Sunday School with Valene.  Saw Mollie, Darrel Call, and Glen Lee Williams. Had dinner with Valene at the Mission Home.  Elder Hislop took us on Buena Vista Hill to view San Francisco Bay and barges.  Came down and went over to the bus station to see about our tickets.  To bed early.  

Mon.: Went on a tour with Ed and Edith and the boys.   Over Golden Gate Bridge, across the ferry, around different cities.  Back over the S.F. Bridge to Hotel at 7:30.  Had supper at Fisherman’s Wharf.  Sharon stayed with Valene. 

Tues: I got a kink in my hips while I was putting my shoes on.  Valene and Sharon came down at 9:00, took a 11:00 bus out of S.F., stopped off at Sacramento.  Annie called Belle’s Home.  Valate (Richardson, a cousin) and Lorraine came to get us, and took us to Belle’s Home. Had cold drink, then Vilate brought us to her farm home, which is beautiful.  Hot in Sacramento.  Visited and rested.  Slept fine at night.   

Wed: Up at 8:30, back a little better.  Had breakfast at 9:30 and visited.  I laid down and slept a little.  Went to the stores in p.m.  at country village (rustic buildings). After supper, Frank and Belle came out and we visited.  Sharon went with T. and Alta’s children to their home close by.  To bed about 10:00. 

Thurs: No one is up while I am writing this.  Beautiful morning.  After breakfast we visited.  In p.m. went into city to see about our tickets.  Went to Sutter’s Fort, saw lots of relics of early California history.  Alta and children went with us.  Went to an outdoor movie at night.  Home at 11:00.   

Fri.: Left Sacramento at 4:10 p.m.  On Donner Pass, just before dark.  Moon on lake was beautiful.  Grand site thru the mountains.  Bus very crowded and tiresome ride all night.  Got off at different cities along the way.  Got in Salt Lake at 7:50 a.m.  Had breakfast.  Over to Temple Ground, rested and slept in room till 4:00  Left Salt Lake at 5:10 –Malad at 8:00.  Sharon, Stella and Annie brought me home.  Had a good sleep.  All Well! 

Through all these years Sandy, the dog, remained her friend, but he was getting old, had worms, and sometimes went into convulsions.  Sandy was also hard of hearing.  One day when Kate was walking home from Betty’s house, Sandy ran to meet her and failed to see or hear the truck coming towards him.  “Get off the road Sandy!”  Kate screamed, but the truck couldn’t stop in time and ran over him.  Kate ran to help him and in his agony, he reached up and sunk his teeth into her hand, then dropped.  Sandy was dead.  Kate cried.  The next day Betty buried him down by the ditch in her old playhouse and took Kate to the doctor.  For many days her hand was badly infected and swollen, but the pain in her heart was worse, for she had lost one of her dearest friends.  

Kate’s days were always busy.  She was doing genealogy work on the Price line, she had her grandchildren almost every day for at least a visit, and when Betty was helping in the farm, sometimes she had them all day.  She did some embroidering on dish towels or a pillow slip, she made her front aprons, and pieced a quilt now and then.  There was the house to clean, and in the summer, the lawn to mow and the weekly water turn on the lot.  She canned her own fruit for winter, still went to all her church meetings, was a member of the Idaho Native Daughter of Pioneers–Station #2 , and life on the farm was still life on the farm!  Her health was pretty good and she was thankful for that.  She had false teeth, glasses, and one day found a poem in the paper that made her laugh out loud and she just had to cut it out to show Stella next time she visited with her.  It read: 

There’s nothing whatever the matter with me 

I’m just as healthy as I can be. 

I have arthritis in both my knees 

And when I talk I talk with a wheeze. 

My pulse is weak and my blood is thin 

But I’m awfully well for the shape I’m in 

I think my liver is out of whack 

And a terrible pain is in my back. 

My hearing is poor, my sight is dim 

Most everything seems to be out of trim. 

I jump like mad at the drop of a pin 

But I’m awfully well for the shape I’m in.  

I have arch supports for both my feet 

Or I wouldn’t be able to go on the street. 

I cannot sleep night after night 

And in the morning I’m a sight. 

My memory’s failing, my head in a spin 

But I’m awfully well for the shape I’m in. 

The moral is, as this tale doth tell 

That for you and me who are not so well, 

It’s better to say “I’m fine” with a grin,  

Or the other guy’ll tell you the shape he’s in. 

For almost as long as it had been in existence, St. John community had honored its elderly with an Old Folks Day.  Ast the age of 65, each member of the community was presented with a Chair.  This special day was the social event of the entire year.  Residents gathered at the school by 10:00 on the given day, along in March orApril (before the spring work started), and the men visited while the women prepared the food each family had been assigned to bring. The meal was huge and lasted about two hours.  After this there was a program of about two hours, then almost everyone went home to do chores, then the food left from dinner was ‘set out’ and folks ate again.  By 9:00 the dance was in full swing.  So were many of the men!  Men who never touched a drop were known to get pretty well ‘lit-up’ on Old Folks Day. 

In 1952, Kate got her Chair, ( a rocker) and again in 1961 she was honored as a community member over 70 years old. 

Kate enjoyed going to the Temple and talked often about the time the three of them had gone to Salt Lake City to General Conference.  Then in the spring of 1957, Betty came over one day and said, “Mother, you and I are going to June Conference this year.  It’s all planned, Lynn’s mother is going to take care of the children.  I have a room for us at the Temple Square Hotel and we’re going.” There was one thing that worried Kate.  Betty was so friendly with everyone, Kate was sure someone would literally attack them, so she made Betty promise not to speak to anyone she didn’t know.  Betty promised, and they had a very nice three days.  They went to the zoo, the This is the Place Monument, the Capitol  Building, Liberty Park, and to the Conference meetings. 

In the fall of 1958, another cloud darkened the family’s sky.  Something was wrong with Lynn, but no one seemed to know just what.  Not even the Doctor.  Finally, in January 1959, he entered the Veterans Hospital in Salt Lake for some tests.  It was discovered that he had a brain tumor and the doctors only gave him one chance in a thousand of living through the surgery necessary to remove it.   

If he did live, there was very little chance that he would be normal, and would spend the rest of his life in a locked ward.  Family and friends fasted and prayed, and Lynn’s name was put in the prayer circle of the temple.  The operation was a success and he was normal.  Testimonies were strengthened and a miracle had happened.  

In January 1959, Elmer Lewis, Mary’s son, came to stay with Kate for a while.  He and his wife, Ruth, had separated and Elmer had a bit of a drinking problem.  This was a hard time for both of them.  Kate lived her religion to perfection and it was hard for her to understand why everyone couldn’t do the same.  Elmer stayed with her and paid board and room until July 1963.  By this time he had worked at the Oneida County Grain Growers, joined Alcoholics Anonymous, finally conquered his problem, and moved to Ogden, Utah.  Everyone was proud of Elmer and Kate.  Especially Elmer and Kate. 

Lynn was still having some problems caused by scar tissue on the brain, even though the operation had been a success.  He was having seizures every once in a while and never knew when they were coming on.  This made it very dangerous for him to run farm machinery or even drive a car.  Someone had to be with him all the time and that didn’t work at all, so he decided to leave the farm and support his family with a different occupation.  After a great deal of consideration, he decided to move to Ogden and learn to be a shoe repairman from a man he knew named Walt Camp (from Malad). 

In the fall of 1961, Lynn moved his family to Ogden and Kate was left alone again. She knew this step was necessary, but dreaded having it happen.  Lynn finished his on-the-job training and opened his own shop in Soda Springs, Idaho in the spring of 1962.  On 27 May, 1962, Gay Lynn, who had been going to business school in Boise and working in Ogden, was married in the St. John Ward Chapel to Robert Peter Dunn.  

Kate decided she was getting old.  She couldn’t do the work she used to do, and it was hard for her to get around.  She had high blood pressure and took her pills faithfully to control it.  The doctor had told her to cut way down on her salt and Betty had brought her a salt substitute, but it just wasn’t the same.  She never had eaten a bite without first giving the salt shaker a little bump on the table and then sprinkling a little over her food.  Sometimes it was hard for her to remember things.  

In August 1963, her brother-in-law, Edward, was in the hospital unable to speak or move much.  Betty still did some nursing and stayed several nights with him.  All this was too much for Stella and, on 30 August, she died.  There just didn’t seem to be any point in telling Edward of his wife’s death and, on 12 September, he too died.  Kate and Annie were left alone. 

Kate was 79 years old and her greatest dread was of dying.  Even though a majority of her loved ones had preceded her in death, she didn’t want to die.  When fall of 1966 came, Kate just didn’t feel able to cope with staying on the farm all alone and moved in with Annie.  She even let Betty talk her into visiting in Soda Springs, at least for Christmas.  Betty fixed heer a nice room of her own where the west sun warmed the early winter afternoons.  She enjoyed sitting at the breakfast table each morning, but felt she should be doing something, however, it was nice to just sit and look at the pleasant view out the kitchen window.  There was a sloping lawn down to the creek and a waterfall in the neighbor’s yard.  Sometimes she would sit in the front room and watch the children as they went to school, or see them playing on a neighbor’s lawn.  Mostly ;she just sat quietly or had a little nap or two, but she just wasn’t content and tried to make Betty understand that she had to be home with Annie.  “Well alright Mother, I’ll take you to Malad, but I’ve enjoyed having you here so much and want you to stay.”  “Well,” Kate promised, “If you’ll take me home to be with Annie for Christmas, I’ll come back the first of the year.” 

Kate was home.  She was contented.  She remembered as she awoke, that it was Henry’s birthday.  What would she give him?  How wonderful it would be, to be held in his arms again, and wish him a happy birthday.  She felt so dizzy and it was hard for her to hear what Annie was saying.  Try as she would, she just didn’t seem to be able to move nor speak.  Strangers were taking her somewhere.  Surely not to the hospital…she hated hospitals…all those she had loved had died whenever they had taken them to the hospital.  She opened her eyes and found Betty had come to visit her, and Dorothy Evans, and here was Theras and Elmer too.  How nice of all of them to come see her.  She would just have a little nap now.  Who was this coming?  Why it was Henry, and he looked so young and handsome in his white clothes.  “Happy Birthday Henry, “ she called out, “I knew you’d be waiting for me, I love you so.” 

The day has come, not gone: 

Thy sun has risen, not set; 

Thy life is now beyond 

The reach of death or change, 

Not ended–but began.   

O noble soul!  O, gentle heart! 

Hail, and farewell. 

This tribute was written about Kate by her sister-in-law, Mae harris, in January 1967. 

Departed 

A Loved one from our midst had gone 

There is one vacant chair. 

Her name has been transcribed on high 

She’ll answer over there. 

Her rest has come, no pain she feels 

God set her fetters free. 

With loved ones long since passed away 

She will united be. 

We knew her worth, we mourn her loss 

There’s none can take her place 

And anguish caused to loving hearts 

Time only can efface. 

Her singing voice, her smiling face, 

Her ladylike appeal, 

Have gone from earth, but oh, somehow,  

Her presence still we feel. 

Although consigned to Mother Earth  

To sleep beneath the sod.  

Her soul, the inner better part, 

Hath winged it’s way to God. 

Perchance in Paradise someday 

On that far distant shore, 

This friend we loved so much we’ll meet 

To part again no more. 

Recompense 

Time was, when men no hope did have 

He thought the grave the end, 

But God the giver of all things 

His only Son did send. 

He lived, He died, this son of man 

His cross he bravely bore. 

He caused the grave bring forth it’s dead 

That man might live once more.