Prologue
I have tried to write this history of my great-grandfather in such a way that it would be interesting to the reader. All dates, names and places are factual; however, I tried to feel as they would have felt under the circumstances when I wrote of their experiences, so the emotional account may or may not be completely factual.
My mother, Catherine Evans Jones, wrote some of these things in her history, and spoke of a John Price diary; but I have found no trace of this diary. I have used the references listed at the end of this writing in order to weave the story.
After much prayer and research, I feel that I have written this story with a fair amount of accuracy and hope it gives each of us a greater appreciation of our convert ancestors, a realization of how great our blessings are, and a determination to live the Gospel with their courage.
Betty J. Richards April, 1977
Biography of John Price 1820- 1883
There were times when thoughts of the green rolling hills of Wales were all that sustained him during the long hours of dark and damp deep in the mines. How good it would be to work in the sunlight and fresh air. Sometimes he even dreamed of owning his own land…to actually plant seeds…see them grow…to harvest and even eat the fruits of his labors…a dream, only a dream…
Men who worked in the mines spent their lives in the dark and died young. He didn’t want to die. He had his lovely wife and soon the baby would be born…
He thought now of the day he had come home from work and Margaret had met him with a strange new quietness about her. She told him of the young men who had visited their home that day and talked of a new religion. Since then, the young men had returned many times and taught them of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. Much of it he believed, but felt he needed more time to study it out. Margaret had read the book they left, “The Book of Mormon” it was called, and she felt it was true. Soon she would be baptized into this new church that had its beginning across the ocean…
His thoughts were interrupted as the signal sounded out the end of the shift, and the men made their way back to the surface of the mine and the warmth of the setting sun.
Margaret’s eagerness to be baptized increased, but common sense persuaded her to wait until after the birth of the baby. On 28 March 1843, in Beaufort, Breconshire, Wales, Edward Price was born; and on 14 April 1843, in spite of the coolness of spring, Margaret would wait no longer and was baptized.
Margaret and the baby were his life, his joy; and this new church became more and more a part of their lives. A year later, on 7 April 1844, John joined the church.
How beautiful their life had become. Probably a desire to better their lives, or perhaps be nearer Margaret’s parents, Issac and Margaret James, prompted the Prices to move to Blaina, Monmouthshire, England.
Then exactly three years to the day she had been baptized, 14 April 1846, Margaret died…John’s wife died…he couldn’t believe it, nor accept it. Only the promise of eternal life, given him by their new religion, gave him the courage to go on. Margaret’s parents cared for little Edward. John moved to Monkton, Pembrokeshire, Wales, and five years went by. Life was lonely; but into the life of thirty-one-year-old John, came nineteen-year-old Margaret Edwards, and he loved again.
In his diary he wrote that Margaret was baptized on 10 October 1850; but records list it as 9 October 1851.
They were married 17 June 1851. They lived in an apartment above Mrs. Sinette’s grocery store, West Pembrokeshire, and were happy. On 9 March 1852, John William Price was born.
The desire to be something other than a miner grew in John, and now the hope became a possibility. News of a new world, where a man could have land just for living on it, and working the earth….a chance to fulfill his dream! The Price’s began saving their money for the trip to America.
On 25 October 1853, a baby girl was born…the next year she died. John pondered the ups and downs of his life. Joy and sorrow…life and death…how he hated death…his first wife, and now this tiny baby daughter.
John and Margaret were active in their church. John conducted a conference, and when given a blessing, he was told that he would come to the land of the mountains.
John saved his money in earnest, and when Elder Franklin D. Richards, the agent for the Mormon Church, came, they had made two payments for their tickets. On 6 January 1855, Joseph was born. Two fine sons now…and finally enough money for their ticket. What joy when the news came! They were to sail on the ship Samuel Curling for the United States on 19 April 1856, from Liverpool, England.
Margaret held the ticket in her hand. The number on it was 44. The cost of her ticket was five pounds, adult fare. Children’s tickets were four pound 10 pence. Infant’s, ten pence. The thought of the trip had been a dream, now it was real. She began in earnest to pack…to prepare…to plan a new life…to perhaps never see this land again. It had all been so exciting, now it was frightening. So many decisions to be made…so little could be taken…a boat ride…the trip across the plains…Salt Lake City,.. a place in the mountains, they said…the time passed in a flurry of preparations, packing, sewing, the trip to Liverpool, and finally the ship.
There were people everywhere! She hadn’t prepared herself for so many people. Their turn in line came, and the man called out, “John Price age 35; Margaret Edwards Price, age 23; John William Price, age 3; Joseph Price, age 11 months”. They were actually aboard ship along with 567 adults, 109 children under 12 years of age, and 27 infants under 1 year of age. The president of their group was Dan Jones, with John Oakley and David Grant as counselors. There were two main cooks, David Davis and Joseph Sawyer, and one steward, Edward Middleton.
The trip across the ocean began…excitement waned from routine to boredom…to nerves and sickness. The continuous rocking of the ship…the scant food, nourishing but poor…so many people. Then Margaret made a friend, Susanna Thain, a spinster only a year younger than herself. She helped with the children, and Margaret found that a friend was a thing of value at such a time.
Margaret listlessly watched John William playing on the ship bunk with his only toy. At least he hadn’t been sick…the only one…how much longer must she endure the rocking of the ship…the constant nausea…the hot, cramped quarters. Baby Joseph stirred in her arms…at least he was sleeping…he seemed so hot…was he too hot?
John Price carried the tray of food along the deck, down the stairs, and into the room where his wife and two small children waited. It wasn’t much…no fruits or vegetables…just a stew that didn’t even smell good. If only the children could have a good hot meal and some milk.
“You seem better this morning Margaret”, John commented. Too sick to answer, she looked at the food and fought back the nausea.
“That’s good ,” she said, “because Joseph is sick now”. “Please , Dear God,” she silently prayed, “Not this baby too, it hasn’t even been a year since my tiny Sarah Ann died in her first year. We’ve joined your church, this Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, and I know it is the true church, but please let me keep this baby…please let this journey be over soon”.
The creak of the ship was her answer, and the flame of the tallow candle seemed the only light in her life at that moment. All through the night the baby cried fitfully, and the tiny body grew hotter. The first faint rays of the sun shown on his body wrapped in the shawl she had made in Wales A prayer was said….words spoken…a song.. and a splash. The lifeless body of Joseph Price slipped beneath the waves and the ship moved on.
Margaret was unconsolable. It had been hard to bury Sara Ann, but to surrender this, her son, to the restless sea…not even a flower…she could never visit the grave.
Worn from the restless night and her grief, at last she slept. When she awoke it was morning, and she lay quietly thinking …praying…hoping that her faith would not fail her. Who was shouting? What was the excitement on deck? John opened the door and the words came clearly to her, “Land Ho!”…and her baby had been buried at sea.
It was 23 May 1856, and the thrill of landing in Boston all swept past her. Her grieving was too heavy, there was no joy in her heart, only the need to be on with the long journey to some far off place in the mountains.
The passengers on the Samuel Curling had been nearly all Welchmen, and the Company became known as the “Welch Company”. How dependent they were on their leaders, for they knew very little of the English language. They were taken to a railroad station, and literally loaded in the cars; but a problem arose…there just weren’t enough passenger cars, and so many of the Saints were forced to ride in the cattle cars part of the time. Even this seemed a relief after the 44 days they had spent aboard ship. Many Saints dropped off the train along the line to find work wherever they could, or to stay with friends, and when the train reached Iowa City, Iowa, there were only 320 people left.
John Price walked through the streets packed with busy people and tried to reach a decision. Margaret was expecting another baby and was fearful of losing this one too. He wondered if she could stand the trip to Salt Lake. He sat down on a log and counted his money. The train fare had been $12.50 for each of them. To purchase a wagon, four oxen, a cow, ox yokes, chains, and items for the trip would cost $275.00. The only other alternative was a hand cart. It cost only $15.00, and there weren’t even enough of them to go around, and every available man was set to building them. John knew that Margaret could never stand the trip by handcart, yet he wanted desperately to keep the money to buy land when they reached the Valley. The main thing was to get there; so he purchased the wagon, and they began outfitting it for the journey.
The Third Handcart Company, the Welch Company, consisting of 320 people and 64 handcarts was organized with Edward Bunker as captain. They began their walk to the Salt Lake Valley, and Margaret’s friend, Susanna Thain left her to go with them. John was sorry to see her go, for he had become quite fond of her. Perhaps when they reached the Valley they would meet again.
John and Margaret began their trip to Salt Lake with the Hunt Wagon Train. At first it was quite pleasant…the nip of the fall air…the changing scenery… the fun night times. Within the circle of the wagons the supper fires burned brightly, the children played, the good smell of suppers cooking, and later the visiting, and often the singing of songs and telling of stories, and most fun of all was the dancing! Even after a long, hard day there always seemed to be enough energy left to dance a bit.
The trip was slow, for the oxen plodded along at their own pace and the ride was rough and dusty. Each morning John would milk the cow, and after they had their breakfast, the remainder of the milk was poured into a pail with a lid and hung between the oxen. By the end of the day, it was churned into a bit of cheese or butter.
Each day Margaret grew more tired and weak and her sorrow and misery seemed never to end. One morning they awoke to a cold wind. “Early Winter” the natives said, as they passed through the countryside. By the last part of October it began to snow. The snow continued to fall for three days.
The Platt River lay ahead of them. At least it would be the last time they would have to cross it in their journey. As they neared it they found they were not alone. The Fifth Handcart Company, and the Hodgett Wagon Company, and the Martin Company were snowed in there. Southwest of what is now Casper, Wyoming, they finally crossed the river by ferry boat.
Margaret kept John William in the wagon wrapped in blankets to keep him warm and safe. During the long, cold, boring hours she thought of how she had looked forward to this trip. Now she wondered if it would end in death for all of them. It was hard to tell if what she felt were cold, pain, or just the sadness all about her. Finally the pain won out…her baby was coming…two months early…there were no doctors, only the other women to help.
She was moved to a tent where there could be a fire and more space to move about. Margaret ceased to care. She knew the baby would never live…not two months early…and in this cold and primitive land. Hours passed in pain and at last a baby girl was born on 30 October 1856. She was blessed immediately, Elizabeth Edwards Price, after Margaret’s father , Jenkin Edwards, and her mother, Elizabeth Clayton. To the amazement of all, she lived; but only for two days. On 1 November 1856, the frail heart could beat no longer and stopped.
Handcarts to Zion page 141
“Deaths continued in the camp. Some died laying side by side with hands entwined. In other cases, they were found as if they had just offered a fervent prayer and their spirit had taken flight while in the act…Some died sitting by the fire; some were singing hymns or eating crusts of bread.”
“Concerning the burials, Captain Martin stood over the grave of the departed ones with shotgun in hand, firing at intervals to keep the crows and buzzards away from hovering around in mid-air.”
“Sister Sirman, whose husband was near to death and whose two sons were suffering with frozen feet, appealed to Captain Martin, ‘Do you think that the relief party will come soon with food, clothing and shoes?’ The Captain’s answer was, ‘I almost wish God would close my eyes to the enormity of the sickness, hunger and death among the Saints. Yes, Sister Sirman, I am as confident as that I live that the President (Brigham Young) will and has dispatched the Relief Valley boys to us and I believe that they are making all the haste they can, that they are bringing flour, clothing, shoes, etc. “
The relief party did come and prepared the people to move on towards Independence Rock. To keep moving was their only chance to keep alive.
The handcarts moved on 3 November and reached the river, filled with floating ice. To cross would require more courage and fortitude, it seemed, than human nature could muster. Women shrank back and men wept. Some pushed through but others were unequal to the ordeal.
Three eighteen year old boys belonging to the relief party, came to the rescue; and to the astonishment of all who saw, carried nearly every member of the ill-fated handcart company across the snow-bound stream. The strain was so terrible, and the exposure so great, that in later years all the boys died from the effects of it. When President Brigham Young heard of this heroic act, he wept like a child, and later declared publicly, “That act alone will ensure C. Allen Huntington, George W. Grant, and David P. Kimball an everlasting salvation in the Celestial Kingdom of God, worlds without end.”
Continuation of the story:
Margaret lay shivering in the wagon with John William cuddled close to her. Her main thoughts were for him, to keep him alive and well. At least these hardships had helped her to take her mind off herself and she was able to think of all the others who were less fortunate than they. The handcart people were suffering terribly.
Margaret tucked the covers about her son and wrapped a blanket about herself and peered out of the end of the wagon. The train was strung out for three or four miles. There were old men pulling and tugging their carts, sometimes loaded with sick wife or children, six to eight-years-old, struggling through the mud and snow. As night came on, the mud would freeze on their clothes and feet. It was bitter cold and the only firewood was small sage brush. Several died that night. Provisions were nearly gone, and clothing almost worn out. Most of the bedding had been left behind, as they were unable to haul it because of their weakened condition.
Even with these hardships many other handcart companies reached Devil’s Gate before them; and by the time they arrived, there were some twelve-hundred persons assembled there.
What to do next became the problem. Snow storms and severely cold weather continued to harass the beleaguered Saints. Present supplies were inadequate to provide so many people for very long. Men and cattle continued to die.
It was decided that the handcart company, with the help from the rescue party and some wagons, should move on to find a sheltered place where wood was procurable. Loaded with the Handcarts to Zion page 133:
“The fatigued Saints finally reached the wagons, encamped in the cove against the granite mountain, where they found some shelter through several freezing days. The thermometer reached eleven degrees below zero on November 6. It was decided to store the merchandise from the wagon trains at Devil’s Gate fort; and then, in the emptied wagons, to haul the sick and incapacitated members of the handcart company on to Salt Lake. Most of the handcarts would be abandoned.”
“After the freight from the two rear wagon trains was stored in the log cabins, a delegation was chosen to remain behind and guard the goods during the winter. Dan W. Jones, with two companions from the Valley and seventeen men from the emigrant trains, were assigned the grueling task.”
Handcarts to Zion pg 134:
“Hodgett’s and Hunt’s wagon trains, now relieved of their freight, moved on to Martin’s Cove. Here the meager loads from the handcarts, and all the emigrants that the wagons could carry, were packed under the wagon covers. The stronger persons still had to walk, but pulling of handcarts was at an end; all these two=wheeled burdens were left behind. The party moved forward on November 9.”
“Ahead of the company, there still stretched 325 miles of high, mountain desolation, mantled in snow. Another cold spell coated the Sweetwater with an ice sheet, thick enough to support wagons. As the train plowed slowly westward through the snow, the severe cold continued. Some persons had their fingers, toes, or feet frozen; others died.”
“Food supplies became dangerously low. No more help had yet come. And there was uncertainty as to when, or if, it would come. The continued storms, that slowed the emigrants, had halted the later rescue wagons headed toward them. Some of these had even started to turn back from the South Pass region, thinking that the emigrants must have taken up winter quarters somewhere- or had perished. But Redick N. Allred and others refused to turn back; they held their wagons at South Pass.”
I would like at this point to insert a passage from Dan Jones’ personal journal simply to illustrate the tremendous unselfishness and faith that the saints had during this trying time. Jones writes:
Forty Years among the indians, page 72
“The ordeal they endured during the long winter was terrible. Their cattle died; they ate the lean meat, and got hungry eating it. Finally they were reduced to eating rawhide. At first it made them sick. But Jones, a professional cook, devised a plan and evolved this recipe: :Scorth and scrape the hair off; this had a tendency to kill and purify the bad taste that scalding gave it. After scraping, boil one hour in plenty of water, throwing the water away which had extracted all the glue, then wash and let it get cold, and then eat with a little sugar sprinkled on it. This was considerable trouble, but we had little else to do and it was better than starving. We asked the Lord to bless our stomachs and adapt them to this food. We hadn’t the faith to ask him to bless the rawhide for it was ‘hard stock.’ …We enjoyed this sumptuous fare for about six weeks, and never got the gout.”
Handcarts to Zion pages 134-136
“Ephraim Hanks, one of the greatest of Mormon scouts, also refused to turn back. Though compelled to leave his wagon load of supplies, he pushed on alone through the storms, with a saddle horse and a pack animal, hoping to meet the west-bound handcarts. On the way, he providentially encountered buffalo and killed one.”
I skinned and dressed the cow;’ he writes, ‘then cut up part of its meat in long strips and loaded my horses with it. Thereupon I resumed my journey, and traveled on till towards evening. I think the sun was about an hour high in the west when I spied something in the distance that looked like a black streak in the snow. As I got near to it, I perceived it moved; then I was satisfied that this was the long looked for handcart company, led by Captain Edward Martin, I reached the ill-fated train just as the immigrants were camping for the night. The sight that met my gaze as I entered their camp can never be erased from my memory. The starved forms and haggard countenances of the poor sufferers, as they moved about slowly, shivering with cold, to prepare their scanty evening meal was enough to touch the stoutest heart. When they saw me coming, they hailed me with joy inexpressible, and when they further beheld the supply of fresh meat I brought into camp, their gratitude knew no bounds. Flocking around me one would say “Oh, please, give me a small piece of meat”’another would exclaim, “My poor children are starving, do give me a little;:jand children with tears in their eyes would call out, “Give me some, give me some:! At first I tried to wait on them and handed out the meat as they called for it; but finally I told them to help themselves. Five minutes later both my horses had been released of their extra burden – the meat was all gone, and the next few hours found the people in camp busily engaged in cooking and eating it, with thankful hearts.’
“Hanks went about the camp administering to the sick. He continues:
‘Many of the emigrants whose extremities were frozen, lost their limbs, either whole or in part. Many such I washed with water and castile soap until the frozen parts would fall off, after which I would sever the shreds of flesh from the remaining portions of the limbs with my scissors. Some of the emigrants lost toes, others fingers, and again others whole hands and feet.’
“An express was sent to South Pass to get relief from the rescue company there. Four wagons, loaded with flour, hurried eastward. At five o’clock on the morning of November 12 they reached the handcart sufferers near Three Crossings on the Sweetwater.
“With food and with three days of good weather matters improved. The diarist could make this encouraging entry on the fourteenth: “No deaths in camp tonight’.”
Handcarts to Zion pages 137-140
“On November 16, at Rocky Ridge, Martin’s Company was cheered by ten wagons of supplies from Salt Lake Valley. Two days later, other teams with food and clothing reached them.”
Although it was snowing on the nineteenth, all emigrants, now securely tucked under wagon covers, crossed South Pass safely. They met more supplies near Green River, and reached Fort Bridger on the twenty-third.”
“The wagon train carrying the Martin Handcart Company reached Bear River (modern Evanston, Wyoming) on November 25. Two days later it camped on the Weber, and on November 29 crossed Big Mountain. Here Joseph A. Young, his brother Brigham, Jr., and other young men were keeping the mountain roads open by packing the snow with moving animals.”
“On November 30, the emigrants, in relief wagons that now numbered 104, descended into Salt Lake Valley. The suffering of all was not yet over, indeed for some it was to continue throughout life.”
“November 30 was a Sunday. The faithful Saints were assembled in the Tabernacle, with President Young presiding. Having been apprised of the imminent arrival of the belated emigrants, he spoke to the congregation:
‘When those persons arrive I do not want to see them put into houses by themselves; I want to have them distributed in the city among the families that have good and comfortable houses; and I wish all the sisters now before me, and all who know how and can, to nurse and wait upon the new comers and prudently administer medicine and food to them. To speak upon these things is a part of my religion, for it pertains to taking care of the Saints…
As soon as this meeting is dismissed, I want the brethren and sisters to repair to their homes, where their Bishops will call on them to take in some of this company; the Bishops will distribute them as the people can receive them…
The afternoon meeting will be omitted, for I wish the sisters to go home and prepare to give those who have just arrived a mouthful of something to eat, and to wash them and nurse them up. You know that I would give more for a dish of pudding and milk, or a baked potato and salt, were I in the situation of those persons who have just come in, than I would for all your prayers, though you were to stay here all the afternoon and pray. Prayer is good, but when baked potatoes and pudding and milk are needed, prayer will not supply their place on this occasion; give every duty its proper time and place…
Some of you will find with their feet frozen to their ankles; some are frozen to their knees and some have their hands frosted…we want you to receive them as your own children, and to have the same feeling for them. We are their temporal saviors, for we have saved them from death.’
President Young;’s suggestions were complied with. The newly arrived sufferers were taken in and cared for tenderly. During the winter it had only to be known that a person had come in the late handcart train, and he was given special consideration by all.”
John gazed in wonder at this city of Salt Lake where he now lived. It had a population of 35,000 people. There were schools, a theater, a social hall, a choir , bands, churches, stores, repair shops of all kinds; indeed the city was almost self-sustaining.
His walk in the pale, winter sunshine had brought him to Temple Square. He marveled at the fine tabernacle, built of stone, and observed the beginnings of the temple. The cornerstone had been laid in 1853. Amid the bustle of activity around him, he was filled with a great sense of calm and peace. Even the cold didn’t bother him, not like the cold that froze his heart when he had lost his first wife and since then his three precious babies. He was thankful that they had reached their destination…from Boston to Salt Lake City was 2,431 miles. He was well, and one fine son, and his wife had lived.
His thoughts turned to Susanna Thain. She had been there to meet them when the wagon train reached Salt Lake, and she and Margaret had renewed their friendship. John was attracted to her still, and the thought of plural marriage occurred to him. The men had talked of it during the long hours of walking across the plains.
On 12 June 1843, Joseph Smith was given a prophecy on plural marriage. John had read it in Section 132 of the Doctrine and Covenants. Some said it was just a way for the Mormons to get more than one wife; others said it was because there were more women than men. Actually it was the other way around- there were more men than women. The truth of the matter was that the Mormons were living in Polygamy simply because “The Lord Commanded It”.
To have more than one wife required that a man be able to provide properly for her and the expected children. This meant, in practice, that only the more mature and established men, and men of property, could undertake plural marriages. (Only about 3% of the church members participated in plural marriages). John felt that he had provided well for his wife and child, he was a good worker, and had a strong testimony. He would talk to Margaret about it.
Margaret’s faith in the truthfulness of the Gospel was unshakeable. If the Lord commanded it, that was fine with her. Anyway, she liked Susanna…better her than someone she didn’t even know.
It was exciting to prepare for another wedding, and such a strange one. Both Susanna and Margaret had mixed emotions. They talked with other wives who lived in Pologamy and knew some of the problems that were sure to arise; but it was a commandment, and finally on 15 November 1857, the three of them were ushered into President Brigham Young’;s office. How great it was to talk with the prophet of the Lord who had guided the Saints to the Valley of the Mountains, and who was also the Governor of the Utah Territory. John and Susanna were married; and then John had his three wives sealed to him. In spite of the problems that he knew were ahead of him, he felt good knowing that these women would be with him in eternity.
In the year that followed, I do not know what the Prices did nor where they lived, only that they apparently stayed in Salt Lake. Sometime during the next year the Prices moved to Ogden, Weber, Utah.
Margaret lay in pain and cold on the crude bed, not daring to hope the baby would live when it was born. It was October again-two years since baby Elizabeth had died in the snow and cold of the Wyoming prairie. She looked about her at the crude log house with its willow roof, and decided it provided more shelter than the tent where she had given birth to Elizabeth. “This time,” she thought, “ I’m stronger and Susanna had been so much help, I know the baby will live.: And live he did! On 11 October 1858, little Jenkin Edwards Price was born in Ogden , Weber County, Utah. How thankful they all were!
Times were hard and the struggle to survive never ceased. The winter of 1860 came and found the family still living in the small home. The wind blew and the snow piled high through the Christmas season “Perhaps”, thought Margaret, “I can give the boys a new baby for Christmas, they’ll get little else”, but not until 4 January 1861 did the wee daughter come to them. …She was named Margaret, after her mother.
This time the mother scarcely left the baby out of her arms, for more reasons than one…the fear that this daughter would grow sick and die…her own body was the best source of warmth to the baby…or perhaps her own instinct warned her of impending doom; for on the second day after the birth, the weight of the snow on the willow roof was too great, and a corner of it caved in. No one was hurt and mother and baby were carried to the home of a neighbor.
This baby girl lived to be my Grandmother Evans.
On 30 March 1863, John Price’s bitter enemy, death, visited him again and took away his five-year-old son Jenkin Edward. At almost the same time, life began anew inside mother Margaret. John Price gathered his family and few possessions and moved northward to Willard, Box Elder County, Utah. There Thomas Edwin Price was born on 29 December 1863.
The next major event in their lives was a wintery trip to Salt Lake City on 27 January 1865, when John went to the Endowment House and he, Margaret and Susanna were able to receive their endowments.
It was 1 February 1866, and she was cold…Margaret wondered if every major event in her life were to be experienced in the cold. How wonderful it would be to live in the warmth always. The pain of giving birth to another baby erased the cold, but seemed to go on and on. She was thirty-four years old; a woman old in experience, and tired….too tired…too weary to go on living…and she joined the children who had gone before her into eternal peace.
Death…again and again it descended upon John’s little family and took its grim toll. His dear Margaret was gone, but she had left him another little daughter, Catherine. He was thankful for this little soul, but how would they feed this tiny baby? How grateful he was to have his wife Susanna.
Mormon women were used to hardship and knew the Lord would provide as He had done so many times in the past. There was surely milk, but how to get it into the baby. There were no commercial nipples; so after much trial and error, this method