My father, Jacob Hess, was born in Franklin County, Pennsylvania on May 21, 1792.
In 1816 he married Miss Elizabeth Foutz, my mother, who was also born in Franklin County, Pennsylvania on June 4, 1797. They had twelve children of which I was the fourth child.
In 1832 my father moved to Richmond County, Ohio and located on a piece of heavy timber land. He cleared the ground and opened a small farm. Here the prospects for a better living were quite flattering considering the many difficulties which were consequent to a new country.
In March 1834, my father, mother, three older sisters and myself were baptized into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Previous to this time we lived in peace with our neighbors but soon after our baptism the neighbors began to speak evil of us and to persecute us in various ways.
About May 1st, 1836, my father and his family moved to the state of Missouri and settled in Ray County near Pomeroy’s Ferry or Richmond Landing on the Missouri River where we lived on a farm which we rented from John Arbuckle until the expulsion of the Saints from Caldwell County when with them we moved to the state of Illinois and settled in Hancock County. Here my father again settled on a piece of wild land and in our extreme poverty we began to open a farm and after much privation and toil we succeeded in getting a comfortable home. The many years of labor and hardships that my father had passed through caused his health to fail and as I was the oldest boy in the family the greater part of the labor devolved on me.
In the meantime I had bought forty acres of land for myself and had made some improvement during the fall of 1844. During the spring and summer of 1845, I was putting up a hewed log house while the mob were burning the Saints’ possessions in Morley’s settlement near Lima in Hancock County, but I continued to labor with all my might until the violence of the mob was so great that we didn’t feel safe in remaining on our farm any longer so we moved to the city of Nauvoo and occupied a part of the house belonging to Bishop Foutz, my mother’s brother. We had left most of our supplies on the farm and before we had time to get them away they were destroyed by the mob, so we were again left almost destitute. In November 1845, my father was stricken down with a shock of paralysis and he lost the use of his one side, which rendered him almost helpless. In the meantime I married Emeline Bigler, who was born in Harrison County, Virginia, August 20, 1824. We were married in November 1845 in the Nauvoo Temple. At this time word was sent forth among the people that the church would leave Nauvoo in the spring.
You can well imagine the situation we were in to start on such a journey when we had been robbed of nearly all our possessions and my poor father lying helpless in bed but it being the only alternative to get away from the fury of the mob. I began to gather up what I had and commenced to get together an outfit. The best I could do was to dig up two old wagons and two yokes of oxen, one of which was my own personal property. I arranged one of these wagons with a bed for my father to lie upon as he could not sit up. It took one entire wagon for his convenience and then it was poor enough. This left one wagon to be drawn by one yoke of oxen to carry the outfit for the entire family, eight in number, while all of the family had to walk every step of the way, rain or shine. But notwithstanding all these difficulties we fixed up the best we could and on the 3rd day of April 1846, we started. We crossed the Mississippi River and camped on the Iowa side in a drenching rain storm the first night.
April 4th we started on the wearisome journey but with our heavy load and the incessant rain that continued to fall, our progress was very slow. The best we could travel was about five to eight miles per day. As my father occupied one of the wagons and much of the time we were obliged to cut brush to lay on the ground to keep our beds out of the water, for the rest of the family had no shelter, only what they could find by crawling under the wagons.
Women and children walked through the mud, water and wet grass; and wading many a stream so their clothes were never dry on them for weeks and months until we reached a place called Mount Pisgah in the western part of Iowa. Here the advanced companies of pioneers had planted corn and vegetables for the benefit of those that came afterward.
We concluded to stop at this place for a time as our limited supplies were about exhausted and my father was so much worse that it was impossible to move him any further. We constructed a temporary shelter of bark which we peeled off from the elm trees that grew in the vicinity. This was about the 15th o f June.
Word had gone out that President Brigham Young would fit out a company to go to the Rocky Mountains that season to locate a settlement and put in grain for the benefit of themselves and those that would come the following season.
Seeing that I could do nothing where I was, I concluded to take my own team and what I had and go to Council Bluffs, one hundred and thirty miles distant, where the church authorities were then stopping. I made my father’s family as comfortable as I could with the limited facilities I had in my possession and taking my wife, team and outfit, bade the rest of the family good bye and started traveling in Henry W. Miller’s company. We were overtaken one day about dark by Captain Allen, who was accompanied by a guard of five dragoons of the regular United States Army, all of whom camped with us for the night. The object of their visit soon became apparent from questions asked by them. They were sent to see if the Mormon people could and would respond to a call for five hundred men to help to fight the battles of the United States against Mexico. This indeed was unexpected news while the people of the state of Illinois had driven us out and while we were scattered on the prairies of western Iowa with nothing in many instances but the canopy of heaven for a covering, to be called on under these circumstances for five hundred of the strength of the camp seemed cruel and unjust indeed, but such was the case notwithstanding.
We arrived at Council Bluffs about the tenth day of July and found that four companies had already been enlisted and organized. I was advised by George A. Smith and others to enlist in Company E., the Captain being Daniel C. Davis. My wife Emeline also enlisted as the government had provided for four women to each company of one hundred men to go along as laundresses. I left my team and wagon and little outfit with my brother-in-law, D. A. Miller, to be brought on the next year as the government had provided two six-mule teams to each company. I was solicited to drive one of them and for the comfort and convenience of my wife I consented to do so. Many times I was thankful for this as these teams had to haul the camp equipment, such as tents, tent poles, camp kettles, etc., which filled the wagon up to the bows. The woman would have to crawl in as best they could and lay in one position until we would stop to camp, and as I had the management of the loading I could make the situation and comfort of my wife much better.
About the twentieth day of July we took up our line of March for Fort Leavenworth. About this time I heard of the death of my father which took place the 22nd day of June 1846, at the place I had left him. In as much as he could not recover, I was thankful to God that he had relieved him from his suffering although it was a dark hour for my poor mother to be left alone in such a desolate and sickly place, without her natural protector and four small children and nothing to live on.
In due time we reached Fort Leavenworth, where we received our outfit of clothing, provisions, arms and ammunition. We remained here about two weeks, after which we started on our march to Santa Fe, a distance of 1000 miles, a very tedious march to be performed on foot much of the distance with very little water and grass and dry buffalo chips for fuel. We crossed one desert eighty miles across. The only means to carry water was each man had a canteen holding two quarts of water each. A great many of the men gave out by the way and had to be helped by the others who were stronger at carrying water back to their comrades.
Finally we reached Santa Fe, but during this time General Kearney was fighting the Mexicans in upper California and was about to be overpowered by them. He sent an express to Santa Fe to have all the men of the Mormon Battalion inspected. All the able bodied men were to be fitted out and put on a forced march and go to his relief. All the sick and disabled and all of the women were to be sent back. Now here comes one of the grandest tests of my life. It happened this way: I had been a teamster all the way and had proved that I could take good care of a team and was a careful driver and as Captain Davis had his family with him and also his own private team, he wanted me to drive it for him, but his intentions were to send my wife back with the detachment of sick men. This I could not consent to and retain my manhood. I remonstrated with Captain Davis but with no purpose. I could not make my impression on him. I told him I would gladly go and drive the team if he would let my wife go along, but he said there was not room in the wagon. Then I told him that I would not go and leave my wife. I would die first. This was a bold assertion for a private to make to his captain, but the emergency seemed to demand it. There were many others in the command who were in the same situation as I was in. I had done all I could with the officers of the Battalion but they either would not or could not do anything for me, so I resolved to go and see General Daviphan, the Commander of Post. I asked John Steel to go with me, he being in the same situation as myself. We went to the Colonel’s quarters and called his attention to our business. He informed us in a very stern manner that it was reported to him that the men who had women there wanted to go on and let their women go back and in accordance therewith, provisions had been drawn for the Battalion and for the Detachment and that there could be no change made. I told him that we had not been consulted of the matter. He told us to leave the quarters gruffly remarking that he had left his wife. I thought I would venture one more remark which was “Colonel, I suppose you left your wife with her friends, while we are required to leave ours in an enemy’s company in care of a lot of sick, demoralized men,” This seemed to touch a sympathetic cord. He called very sharply “Orderly, Orderly, go up to the command and bring Adjutant George A. Dikes here.” I whispered to Steel, “The spell is broken, let’s go.”
In a short time Adjutant Dikes returned to the Command and climbing upon a hind wheel of a wagon he shouted to the top of his voice: “All you men who have wives here can go back with them. I have seen men going about crying enough to melt the heart of a crocodile.” So I went to the Colonel and had it arranged. In a short time the Battalion was on the move West and the Detachment was on the move East by North East.
The Detachment was composed of all the men who had become disabled through the long march, which they had performed on foot. Their outfit of teams were composed of broken down oxen. Our rations or provisions were very good in quality but very short as to quantity. The Post of Santa Fe being very short of provisions at the time. We had a lot of beef cattle but they compared favorably with the rest of the outfit, so poor that many of them gave out by the way. Great economy had to be used in killing the poorest cattle first.
As usual on the march I had charge of a team of four yoke of oxen. Our progress was so slow that we were put on quarter rations in order to make our food hold out until we could reach Fort Bent. It seemed as if we had gone about as far as we could, when one morning after the guards had driven the oxen into camp it was found that there were thirty head of stray oxen in the herd, all of them in good condition. Captain Brown gave orders to have these teams distributed among the Detachment. With such an addition of strength to our teams we got along fine. About noon however, two men came to our camp inquiring about stray oxen. Captain Brown told them that if they had any cattle in his company they could take them out. They replied that each teamster only knew his own oxen. After examining our teams they only claimed and took four of the thirty stray oxen. This still left us with thirteen yoke of fresh oxen which we considered a divine interposition of the kind hand of God on our behalf, as it seemed our only chance for deliverance from starvation.
In due time we reached Fort Bent and exchanged our dilapidated outfit for a new one with a full supply of rations for the winter which seems to put an end to all of our troubles. We moved up the Arkansas River seventy-five miles, to a place then called Pueblo. Here we put up homes for the winter. These houses were made of cottonwood logs split in half and the pieces joined together in the form of a stockade. Here we passed the winter in drilling, hunting and having a good time generally.
It was now about seven months since we had received any pay, so Captain Brown concluded to go to Santa Fe with the pay roll of the Detachment and draw our wages. He took a guard of ten men, of which I was one. We started about the last day of February and in due time reached Santa Fe. The money was drawn and we started on our return trip and got back to Pueblo about the first of April and found spring weather. We began at once to prepare for our march.
About the 15th of April we started for Fort Laramie, 300 miles distance on the California Road, at which place we expected to find a location for the saints. On our way we were met by Amasa Lyman and others who had come from the pioneer camp. This was a very happy meeting for us because we learned that the camp, led by President Brigham Young, was just ahead of us. We pushed on with fresh courage and soon reached their trail. We followed this trail and entered the Salt Lake Valley four days after the main body of saints, July 28, 1847. We were also discharged from the service of the United States on this day.
I was now in a country that was untried and 1000 miles from where any supplies could be got. I went in partners with Jim and put up a whip saw pit and began to turn out some lumber. As there was no lumber except what was sawed by hand, I found ready sale for mine as fast as I could make it, which was slow, one hundred feet being all we could turn out in one day. In this way I managed to recruit our indigent circumstances and was able to get a little food. We got along fine during the winter.
In the spring we moved to Mill Creek and I began to put in what grain seed I had, which was very limited. Some few months later the crickets made their appearance in countless numbers and attacked our grain crops. We fought them until we found that we were overpowered. Then the sea gulls came and completely devoured the crickets so the balance of our crops matured and our pending starvation was averted.
On the 9th day of September 1848, I started back to Council Bluffs, after my mother and her children whom I had left at Pisgah, as they had no means to come out with. I arrived in Council Bluffs on November 2nd. Here I rested for a few days and then continued my journey of 130 miles. I found my mother and her family alive and well. I stopped with them for a few days to arrange for the move in the spring, then returned to Council Bluffs to try to get work for the winter as I was very short of means to accomplish so great an undertaking. I started to work for Apostle Orson Hyde for twenty dollars a month. I worked for one month and then the weather became so severe that our work stopped and I was out of employment for the rest of the winter.
In the spring I took all the means I had and bought a wagon and a yoke of oxen. I hitched up the oxen and went to Pisgah to bring mother and her family to Council Bluffs, not knowing where the rest of the outfit would come from. When I got back I found the country swarming with emigrants who were on their way to the gold fields of California. When they found that I had come over the road they hired me as a guide, giving me two hundred dollars cash in advance. This was truly a blessing from the Lord. I was now able to get the rest of my outfit. On April 15, 1849, we started but a difficulty soon arose, as I could not travel as fast as they could. They had horses and light loads and I had oxen and a heavy load. They had put me in the lead and I urged my team on so as to make it as far as I could to try to give them satisfaction. I kept this up until they saw that my oxen were failing me. Then they went on and left me. I felt quite relieved because now I could travel to suit myself. I took time to hunt good food for me and my teams soon began to recover.
On July 27, I again arrived in the Salt Lake Valley. I found my dear wife, Emeline with her first born child in her arms. This was indeed a happy meeting. I, having been absent about eleven months.
While I was away the land I had before I left was given to another party, so I went north to a place later called Farmington. As it was the counsel for the people to settle close together for protection I could only get twenty acres of land.
In the meantime Daniel A. Miller came out and brought my team and wagon with its contents which I had left with him two years before when I went into the Battalion. With this and the outfit which I had brought with me, I felt quite well fixed to what I had been.
On the 30th day of March, 1852, I married Emily Card (No. 2) , who was born in the state of Maine, September 27, 1831. She was the mother of ten children.
In March 1855 I was ordained a Bishop by President Young and set apart to preside over the Farmington Ward. I presided over this Ward for 27 successive years.
On November 16, 1856, I married Julia Peterson (No. 3) who was born in Norway, September 29, 1837. She was the mother of four children.
In March 1857, I married Mary Ann Steed (No. 4) who was born in England, November 27, 1837. She was the mother of ten children.
In 1858, I was elected to the Utah Legislature; was elected again in 1860 for two years, or two terms.
On the 31st day of January, 1862, my much beloved wife Emeline died of premature child birth. This was one of the greatest trials of my life, as she was the wife of my youth and had been with me through all of our poverty and trials of life which we had passed through. She died as she had lived, a faithful wife, a devoted mother, and a true Latter-Day Saint. She was the mother of ten children.
On the 25th day of April, 1862, I married Caroline Workman (No. 5) , who was born in the state of Tennessee, March 28, 1848. She is the mother of ten children.
On the 30th day of May, 1868, I married Sarah Lovina Miller ( No. 6), who was born in Farmington, Utah, June 24, 1850. She is the mother of nine children.
( missing page 8, I will continue with page 9)
I journeyed to Chicago, where I took the Chicago, Fort Wayne and Pittsburg Railroad, and the Pennsylvania Central to Harrisburg; there I switched off on the Cumberland Valley Railway to Green Castle, in Franklin County, Penn. At that place I found my dear Aunt, Mrs. Riley was a sister of my dear Mother. The family had heard of my coming and met me with open arms, and made me very welcome. I felt very much at home here, indeed; I made it my home much of the time while I was in the country. Mrs. Riley was so much like my dear Mother that I loved her as a mother. She also had a lovely family. I preached the Gospel to them and made a favorable impression, but the prejudice at that time ran very high and our doctrine was very unpopular, and the time of my stay was short. They put off obeying the Gospel, but nearly the entire family have since died, and while I was with them I got their names and ages and a few years ago I did work for them in the Logan Temple.
My object in going East at that time was to preach the Gospel to the living if they wanted to hear it, and get genealogy of the dead. The former I succeeded in very poorly, as the living did not care to hear; the genealogy of the dead was very meager, as they had failed to keep a record, and the only way that I could get the names and ages of the dead was to go to the cemeteries and obtain them from the stones that marked their last resting places, as my people had been very particular in keeping the record on the headstones. In visiting the graves in both public and private burying places, I got all the names I could – perhaps fifty in all– and have done work for them in the Logan Temple.
I found all my relatives on my Father’s side of the house all well off, with a few exceptions. The old people came and settled in Franklin County, Penn. in an early day when it was new, possessed themselves of the country, and having good staying qualities, made themselves well -to-do. The old people –my Father’s brothers and sisters–with a few exceptions, are dead, and their children are in possession of the country, which is hard to excel. This is the situation I found them in, and all of them belonging to some kind of religion peculiar to their own notions, and being much prejudiced against “Mormonism” they did not care to listen to me.
February 15, 1870. Because of pressing business at home, I had spent about all the time that I could spare, and having secured all the genealogy that I could get at that time, I bade farewell to all of my dear friends, and on the 16th day of February, 1870, I left Green Castle on my return trip over the same road that I came; arrived in Harrisburg the same day, here I bought a ticket, which cost me $70. I left Harrisburg at 4 o’clock for Pittsburg. In due time I arrived in Chicago safely, and on quick time; here I took the Northwestern Railway for Cedar Rapids, stopped to see cousin David M. Secrist, visited with him; then went on the train to Omaha, where I arrived on the 22nd of February. I left Omaha, February 23rd, and on the 25th I arrived in Ogeen, I also reached my home the same day and found all well. I had been gone about three months, and felt well satisfied with my visit to the place I was born.
Sept. 15, 1887, I left my place at Plymouth, Box Elder County, Utah, at 12 o’clock noon, went to Logan, and there joined Bishop Zundel and two Lamanites John and Jim Brown, and secured a part of our outfit, consisting of one baggage wagon, two work horses, two riding horses, two horses and a buggy. I furnished horses and a buggy, the Church furnished a baggage wagon, Bishop Zundel furnished two horses to pull the wagon, and the Lamanites furnished riding horses.
The object of this mission was to carry a lot of presents to Chief Washakie, who was camped on the east side of the Wind River Range of Mountains, now in the State of Wyoming. The presents consisted of five hundred pounds of dried fruit, one bale of blankets, shirts, underwear, and silk handkerchiefs in great numbers and varieties.
September 16. We left Logan City, traveled up Logan Canyon, found the country very rocky but the road was good, considering the country that it passes through; camped for the night, having had no accident through the day.
September 17th. Traveled up the Canyon, reached the top of the divide about noon; in Dean’s Hill got a lot of pine hens and had our first feast of wild meat, which we enjoyed very much. Traveled down the east side of the mountains to Garden City, thence up the Bear Lake shore to Laketown; camped for the night with Bishop Mebeker. Bear Lake is the most beautiful sheet of water that I have ever seen–water as clear as crystal, and gravelly bottom at a great depth. We obtained a supply of oats for horse feed.
September 18th. We started this morning at 8 o’clock, crossed over a ridge and traveled down grade to Bear River; found it almost dry; traveled across the country to the mouth of Twin Creeks where we struck the Oregon Short line Railway. There we camped for the night and had our first feast of Mountain Trout, John having secured a fine string of them.
September 19th. Started at 8 o’clock; traveled up Twin Creeks, also up the Oregon Short Line R.R., which comes down the Creeks, the wagon road crosses the railroad nineteen times, very dangerous in places, just room enough for the wagon to pass when there is no train at that time; camped at the tunnel on the summit of the ridge. This tunnel is 800 feet through. Started at 2 o’clock, traveled over the ridge down to Ham’s Fork, went up Han’s Fork for three miles, camped for the night. There we saw the first antelope, which were very wild and not come-at-able.
September 20th. Started at 8 o’clock; traveled over some very steep hills; struck the Lander Road which used to be one of the main roads that the gold seekers traveled to California by the way of Fort Hall. We struck a very steep hill, almost perpendicular, hitched both saddle horses to the end of the wagon tongue and pulled by the horns of the saddles; traveled down the hill to Fontinell, near Green River, and camped for the night.
September 21st. Started at 7:30, passed over some rough, hilly country on to Green River, then up Green River 13 miles to a beautiful stream called LaBarge; noon halt, started out at 1 o’clock, traveled 24 miles up the river, good roads, camped for the night on river bottom, good grass.
September 22nd. Broke camp at 8:30, crossed both Pineys, beautiful streams of water, wide bottoms, good meadow land by the thousands of acres; antelope in large herds but very wild; traveled over a ridge due north, struck Marsh Creek caught some nice Mountain Trout; waited for baggage wagon to come up; wagon came up then we found we had taken the wrong route and gone out of our way. Started at two o/clock, traveled over High Cobble Stone Ridge to the fork of Green River; this is the main fork of Green River, a large stream of beautiful clear water.
September 23rd. We have gotten out of our way; went for 10 miles down the river, struck the trail, traveled due east over Large Cobble Stone Ridge down on the east fork of Green River; this fork has a great amount of water in it at some seasons of the year, but low at present. Noon halt; at 2 o’clock started up the river; hereafter must travel without a road through heavy sage brush; made slow progress across the bottom to river, and camped for the night.
September 24th. The mountains to the northeast begin to look very high and difficult to cross. At 8:30 broke camp and climbed over hills, washouts, and sage brush; difficult to travel; made slow progress; met some Indians who informed us that Chief Washakie had gone on a hunt; not likely to see him; camped for the night.
September 25th. Camped about twenty-five miles from the foot of the mountains; are told the mountains are very difficult to cross over to Chief Washakie’s camp; considering this, with the fact that we could not see him if we did cross, we concluded to send an Indian over and ask the chief men of the camp to send a delegation over to receive the presents. We were in camp waiting for them to return. The Indians in the vicinity who were hunting, began to gather into our camp and we held meetings with them, preaching the Gospel to them, and a number of them became converted and demanded baptism.
September 27th. Still in camp waiting for the messenger to return; health good, appetite good, and conscious that we are in no immediate danger from our enemies that we had left so far in the rear in Utah, the Anti-Mormon raid being in full blast when we left.
September 28th. This morning our express men returned with Chief Washakie’s son and three other of the principal men of the tribe. Dick Washakie, a son, is a noble looking man, about 6 feet 4 inches tall, well proportioned, speaks good English, about 25 years old, well dressed in the American style, fine, gentlemanly appearance, and must sooner or later be a great leader among his people.
After greetings and breakfast were over, we all sat down, had prayer, John Indian being mouth, after which Bishop Zundel preached to the Lamanties that had gathered in – twenty in number; talked for about one hour. John preached next. Jim Brown followed , after which I bore a powerful testimony and prophesied of the future of that people; much of the spirit of the Lord was enjoyed. After several meetings, the Lamanites all asked to be baptized, which was attended to with much pleasure. Bishop Zundel did the baptizing and I did the confirming. After we had gotten through with the ordinance of baptism, the presents were delivered, and after a hearty handshaking we separated from our kind friend; the Lamanites going east and we south-west on our return trip; traveled ten miles through sage and greasewood and camped for the night. Jim killed an antelope, which was very acceptable, as we had had very little meat on our trip so far.
September 29th. This morning we baptized four more Indians- two men and two women. Broke camp at nine o/clock and traveled over to Green River; camped for noon, and traveled over a ridge to Pine;y’s two fine streams of water; meadow and farm land in abundance; camped for the night.
September 30th. Broke camp at seven o’clock traveling up the largest Piney, much of the time in the middle of the stream; very rough canyon and very difficult pass over several high ranges; traveled until after dark down a steep mountain side, almost perpendicular; camped on the creek in a narrow gorge.
October 1st. Had now gotten through the range of mountains, sixty miles distant, and were at the head of Star Valley; traveled down the valley to the mouth of Salt River, camped for the night.
October 2nd. Laying over to rest the horses; started at noon up Salt River, and camped for the night near the summit.
October 3rd. Started at 7 o’clock; came out of the canyon and reached Montpelier, noon half at Amasa Wright’s place, fed, got dinner, then traveled to Georgetown; stopped for the night with Nicholas Barkdall, my brother-in-law, were treated royally.
October 5. Started at 7 o’clock; nooned at Soda Springs, started at 2 o’clock; camped for the night with Serl Hale; were treated to the best his house afforded.
October 6th. Started at 7 o’clock; came over the ridge, camped at Church Farm, fed, got dinner, broke camp at 1 o’clock; traveled to Weston Creek, fed, lunched and then we separated, Bishop Zundel and the Lamanites crossing the range of hills into Malad Valley, and I going by way of Clarkston and reaching home at nine o’clock; found all well; had traveled sixty miles on this the last day, and about seven hundred miles on the entire journey.
I thank and praise the Lord, who has had His kind and preserving care over us while fulfilling this mission of peace to one of the largest friendly tribes of Indians in this part of the country.
Ogden City, Utah, November 23, 1895. This morning, in company with Ezra T. Clark, John R. Barnes, and Ephraim P. Elleson, I left for Omaha, Nebraska, to attend the Trans-Mississippi Congress to be held at that place on the 25th of said month. We crossed the plains of a thousand miles without an accident. I spent my first night in a Pullman palace sleeping car, and with all of its grandeur in appearance, I could not sleep; two men in one berth is one too many for comfort; the car being very warm. I arrived in Omaha about 8:30 and took the street car to the Millard Hotel. This Hotel was selected as the headquarters of the members; charges $3.00 per day. We had first-class fare and two good rooms for our accommodation; all of the accommodations there were on the modern plan, first class style, with colored waiters, who were very polite.
November 26th. Held three sessions today. All the members were invited to a reception given by a gentleman whose name I have forgotten; we were royally treated to all kinds of drinkables, also candy and ice cream.
November 27th. Held one session. In the afternoon the members went in a body, by invitation, to visit the Omaha Smelter where they reduce silver and lead ore to bullion, from there it is shipped to Wales, and there refined; a great amount of business is done there. The same afternoon we took the street car five miles to South Omaha to visit the stockyards and slaughter houses. A great amount of slaughtering and packing is done here. After looking through the mammoth establishment we went back to the Hotel.
November 28th. Thanksgiving Day. Crossing the bridge over the Missouri River, went to Council Bluffs, held meeting with a small branch of the Church presided over by Robert Huntington; had Thanksgiving dinner; had a good time after dinner and went back to Omaha; took the street car, went three miles up the River towards Florence (once Winter Quarters) then back to the Hotel; had supper , packed our grips, and got the lunch basket recruited. Union Depot.
November 29th. At 8:10 we took the train for Ogden, securing our berths in the Pullman sleeper, “Susannah”. Cold north wind blowing.
November 30th. 10:15. Green River was once a thriving railroad town when the road was being built, but now it is dilapidated.
Echo. November 30th. 12:30. Had a pleasant trip, were favored with the company of President George Q. Cannon all the way across the plains, which we appreciated very much.
Ogden. November 30th. 2:10. All in good health and spirits; changed cars for Farmington, reached home in safety; found all well, glad to see each other.
This was a pleasure trip for me in very deed. I had an opportunity to form the acquaintance of influential business men from different parts of the country and made acquaintances that will not be forgotten very soon.
January 15, 1894. Today William R. Smith, President of the Davis Stake of Zion, died after a severe, lingering sickness of six months of cancer in the intestines. This was a severe shock to his family nad to all the people of the stake, as he was a first-class man, a good president, a good father, and a friend to all good people; his faithful memory will live in the hearts of the people.
About this time I was called by the Presidency of the Church to take the Temporary Presidency of the Stake in President Smith’s place, with Brother Hyrum Grant as my first counselor to assist me. Of course, we took hold and did the best we could, but because of the long sickness of our latest President, all public Stake matters were much run down so we had to labor with our might to get matters straightened up,
March 4, 1894. Today at the Stake conference in East Bountiful, I was set apart to preside as the President of the Davis Stake of Zion with Joseph Hyrum Grant as my first counselor; set apart by Apostle Franklin D. Richards and Heber J. Grant, Apostle Richards being mouth.
Brother F.D. Richards stated to the Conference that my name had been considered by the first Presidency and the Quorum of the Apostles and it was decided unanimously that I was the man. It was put before the High Council and they were unanimously in favor; it was also put before theConference, and I was unanimously sustained.
I had presided over the Farmington Ward as its Bishop for twenty-seven successive years, and had labored as the First Counselor to President W. R. Smith from 1882 to 1894. I get along with this very well, or reasonably satisfactorily, but to accept the responsibility of presiding over the Stake seemed a great responsibility and so it has proved in every sense of the word. It has caused me to feel very humble and to live as near to the Lord as a man of my temperament could do, but through the help of the lord I have done the best I could, and as to how well I have succeeded, I will leave to the Lord and my charitable brethren and sisters to judge. I pray most earnestly that I may continue to be faithful and humble in the future in my labors among the people, that I may put my trust in the Lord and have His approval, then I will be content.