This more comprehensive history of Joseph Nicholas Arbon, now in his 96 year, is reproduced at length because it is representative in detail of the great struggle our people made to establish themselves and their family in this arid but wonderful land. This is the excellent recording of Fern T. Hartvigsen, Arvilla McKay Arbon, “Uncle Joseph’s” wife by his second marriage and his daughter Delta Arbon Harmon.
(Picture of Joseph Nicholas Arbon or his father? on the left side of the following paragraph-no heading on picture.) (Picture of Arvilla McKay Arbon or Joseph Nicholas’s Mother? on the right side of the following paragraph-no heading on picture.)
Arbon Valley-home it is and home it shall be to the man who first turned a furrow in this fertile valley; who, with his father, was the first man to spend a winter there. This man is Joseph Nicholas Arbon who will observe his 96th birthday on Saturday, September 25, 1971.
Mr. Arbon began his colorful and industrious life eight miles west of Snowville, Utah, at a place designated as the “Sinks of Snowville” because the water would stand for a time and then disappear. His father, George Arbon, and his mother, Sarah Nicholas Arbon, were living and working at the John Houtz cattle ranch at the time of his birth on September 25, 1875.
At Snowville the elder Arbon took out a homestead. There followed many years of discouragement in his struggle to make a livelihood for his family. George Arbon was English, born at Cambridgeshire, and came to the United States in 1862. His wife was a native of Willard, Utah. Their crops had been destroyed as he farmed at Willard by grasshoppers for seven consecutive years, and in later years at Malad, Idaho by crickets, leaving him a crop that when harvested netted him fourteen bushels of grain.
At Snowville the father built a cabin of logs with a dirt floor, and Joe’s only remembrance of his mother is seeing her sweep out the dirt floor with a rabbit-brush broom. The rabbits were so numerous in Snowville that they reaped the harvest and left the Arbon family still struggling for an existence. From there, they moved to Almo, Idaho, where they lived for a few years, farming and dairying. It was at Almo that the mother died at the age of thirty-one years, leaving a family of seven children.
From Almo the family went to Pleasant View, Idaho, where a farm was rented from William Roderick for five years and then from John Thorpe for two years. Here, along with others of the small farming community, they began to learn a little about the methods of dry farming, which were just coming to light. While working for Thorpe, the elder Arbon learned about a valley to the north, called Bannock. John Bowen and S. D. Davis had done a bit of investigating and had found a stream of water in the west hills. The stream rose and sank before reaching the valley. It was thought that if it were taken out of the old channel and conducted in a ditch along the side of the hills, it would reach the valley floor and could be used for irrigating the farms and in the homes. Through the combined efforts of several parties, among them Joseph Arbon, the small stream was harnessed and brought down into the valley to be used for culinary purposes as well as gardens and crops for many years.
Mr. Arbon has stirring memories of the first years in the valley which was named in honor of his father. Blizzards would come and last for as long as twenty-four hours. He says many times he thought that life was made up of blizzards. He recalls their little cabin’s being completely covered by drifting snow. One morning in particular he remembers getting up from a cold bed to build a fire in the little cook stove. It began to smoke excessively. Quickly he grabbed the wash basin which had water in it from the night before and doused the fire. Finding it difficult to breathe the smoke-filled air, he ran to the door to open it, but the snow had drifted against it to the eaves. He finally succeeded in prying the door open a crack to get a breath of the cold, crisp air which revived him. He said there followed a chimney repair and shoveling of snow from the outside and inside the cabin.
He says they were so hard up that they could not even mail a letter because they did not have the price of a postage stamp-at that time, two cents.
The first plowing was done with a sulky plow pulled by five head of horses hitched to it. It was impossible to make the furrows straight as he plowed through the small but stubborn dwarf sage and grasses. Ten acres of ground were plowed, harrowed, harrowed again, and planted into spring wheat, which netted thirty-five bushels.
The year following this one in which young Arbon and his father stayed the winter, saw four more families come to the valley-David John Bowen, James Bailey, Ren Evans, and Edward Davis. These five families pooled their few dollars-$263 to be exact-and purchased a 10-foot Hodges header. Young Joe had been hoarding his few dollars to buy a coveted saddle, but they went to purchase a share in the header. Quite by accident, Mr. Davis learned that by letting a small acreage of his land rest, it produced a more bounteous crop the next year. Thus they found out about “summer following.”
The first threshing done in Arbon Valley was by men who came through the canyon and worked. They came through Mine Canyon from Elkhorn. They moved their machine along what was just a cow trail. They threshed for the five families and not one cent was charged. It was just a neighborly act to thresh the three hundred acres.
Initiative, perseverance, and hard work sustained the early settlers of the valley. Joe and his father would go into the canyons late in the fall after the range cattle had been gathered in. Here they would find an abundance of grass, regrown and waving in the canyon. They would harvest the grass and stack it in the canyons for hay. Later, with the aid of a basket rack, constructed by them of willows and poles, they would haul the hay home. Often they had to make their own roads as they traveled. The hay would sustain the cattle and other livestock through the long, hard, winter months.
When Joseph was about fifteen years old, according to his recollections, his father began to look to him to take the lead in the work at the farm. He says, “My father was a good citizen, a hard worker, and had the patience to dig along in his old-fashioned way.” He remembers little of a mother’s care. His older sisters helped care for the younger ones of the family. At the present time, only one sister, Eva Winton, of Gardena, California, is living. Since Joseph was the only boy among six girls, he says they spoiled him “something awful.”
At seventeen he left his father for a time to gain some experience herding sheep in the Soda Springs area for two men from Nevada, John Boundy and Ox Samson. He made lasting friendships and a reputation of trustworthiness and ambition.
He tells of trouble with some of the herders who were over him and how the herder would push a little more work each day off onto the boy herder. He recalls herding sheep for three weeks during a snowy, wet spring and that every day they would get wet to the waist. A Mexican companion befriended him and helped him over some of the rough spots in his herding experiences. His first time alone with a herd of sheep was rather frightening, but he remembers depending on the sheep dogs for assistance and the sheep which bedded themselves following a 50-mile trek to summer range in the Caribou mountains.
It was only after he had the experience of being alone with the sheep that he learned about the markers or the black sheep. There were some fifteen or twenty in this herd of about two thousand. The herders were supposed to count the markers to determine if any of the sheep were missing. Sometimes it was deemed necessary to take time out to cut quaking aspens and construct a corral to run the sheep through so a more accurate count could be made.
Mr. Arbon recalls a three-week stay alone with the sheep on the range during which time he saw no white men, only his good Mexican companion.
Returning to Arbon Valley, the Arbon family then procured some of their own sheep. They would herd the sheep in the canyons along the ridges, sometimes as late as mid-January. Arbon says they never drove their sheep; they would call and the sheep would follow. After the grass and lower leaves were gone, it was necessary to cut branches from which the sheep would eat the leaves. The sheep would go any place a horse would go and sometimes they would clear a road through the snow for the sheep to follow as they returned home for the rest of the winter. “Sheep are just like people; they do not want to move from their warm beds,” he says. It is then necessary to probe them into moving.
After the older girls of the family were married and during the time that the men were alone, they did their own cooking and housework. Mr. Arbon recalls that his father would make an English plum pudding, and he himself learned to make good bread.
During one winter spent in Pleasant View, he went by horseback to court the young woman who became his bride. At times the weather was so bad that he had to depend on the horse to find the way through the breast-deep snow. After a courtship of several years, he married the daughter of a friend of his father, David P. Davis, of Samaria, Idaho. Elizabeth was her name.
(Picture of Joseph and Elizabeth, on the right side of the previous paragraph. Married November 23, 1898)
His bride, whose mother had died when the girl was nine years of age, was her father’s main help in the home and with the other children. Mr. Arbon tells of waiting to get married and then finally planning a wedding without her father’s consent because he refused to give up his homemaker daughter. Her father, however, learned of their plan to marry (the wedding dress was even made) and made a bargain with them to wait for one year. This they did.
They made the trip to and from Corrine, Utah, with the elder Arbon and a brother of the bride over the rough roads in a dead axle wagon. The remainder of the trip to and from Salt Lake was by train. A bunch of sheep was sold to defray the expense of the wedding which was performed in the Latter-day Saints Temple on November 23, 1898.
He comments that he brought his bride to Arbon Valley and that through hard work during the ensuing years, life began to take on more meaning and they began slowly to accumulate a few of the material things. They acquired some cows, lambs and a few chickens which started as a wedding present. Many pounds of butter and many dozens of eggs found their way to eager purchasers. Mr. Arbon had one of the first muskets in the valley. At that time, wild fowl were plentiful and there were no restrictions.
Their progress continued along with other homesteaders, until the fertile expanse of Arbon Valley reached the heights of productivity witnessed today. The Arbon farm now consists of many acres of hay and grain land. The little stream of long ago is now augmented by sprinkling systems fed by wells that have been drilled. Over the years, more land was acquired and with his son, Joseph G. Arbon, who now operates the farm, has worked side by side.
Mr. Arbon says he never remembers feeling tired. He has enjoyed wonderful health and recalls having worked from early morning until late at night. Many times he has mowed hay by the light of the moon and stars. On two occasions, he had a little trouble with his health. Back trouble along about the time he was herding sheep sent him to Salt Lake for a doctor’s care. He remembers that the medicine he took was three drops of juniper oil on sugar. A winter’s medicine was made by placing horseshoe nails in water to make rust which he drank for a cure. When he broke his arm. He had to be taken to Kelton, Utah, and then to Ogden by train to have it set.
(Picture of farmer with sickle over shoulder, on the left side of following paragraph. Typical “Father Time”)
The White Brothers sawmill, established in Bull Canyon, drew the Arbons as first customers. A six-inch board which was bought at that time is still in use on the floor of one of the buildings on the farm. Prior to this time, the men had logged in the canyons and brought enough logs to construct a house and barn. The winter’s supply of wood for fuel was a yearly must.
Farming advanced from the sulky plow to the modern means of farming used today. Mr. Arbon was one of the first to purchase and make use of the better, more modern machinery as it came on the market.
The Arbons were parents of four children: Delta Harmon, Scotch Plains, New Jersey; Joseph G. Arbon, 1355 South Fourth, Pocatello; Dr. Harold D. Arbon, Salinas, Calif.; and a son, Gordon, who died in infancy.
On October 7, 1898, the first mail went out of the Arbon post office. Three letters comprised the entire lot.
On August 18, 1900, a branch of the LDS Church was organized with David John Bowen as the first presiding elder. In 1904 the first small church (all purpose) house was begun. Coming to Pocatello, the men purchased 1300 feet of rustic lumber, 500 feet of finishing lumber, and 66 pounds of nails. The entire cost was $45.
Through the persistence of Mr. Arbon, along with many others in the valley and during his second term as LDS Bishop of the Arbon ward, the present meeting house was built for the three hundred inhabitants of the valley. He served as Bishop for a total of 26 years, the last time from 1926 to 1939. In the year 1925, one of his fondest dreams was realized. His daughter, Delta, was called to labor in the California area as a missionary for his beloved church. She was headquartered in San Francisco.
Work on the church began in the fall of the year and continued until just before Christmas when the snow had fallen on the valley. A gala event, complete with Santa’s visit, was one of the first activities at the church. Mr. Arbon would be called on often to play his accordion for church functions and with his sister, Mayme, at the organ chording, they played from early evening until late for dancing. In the early years of the valley, the women would carry milk cans of scalding water to the scene of the evening’s festivities and would spend countless hours scrubbing with brooms and strong lye water to make the floor ready for the dancers. Among them was the sister and wife of Mr. Arbon and with them the present Mrs. Carlyle (Myrtle) North. Mrs. North recalls with a chuckle the many hours they spent. She says, “Someone had to do it. We had no entertainment, so we had to make our own and we worked hard at it.” Mrs. North resides at North Arthur in Pocatello with her husband.
Mr. Arbon still reminisces with his accordion, having received a new one for his eighty-ninth birthday. His favorite song is “Home on the Range” and his favorite hymn is “O, My Father.”
One of the heart-breaking experiences he recalls was when several families were returning home early one morning from a party held at one of the homes. All went-adults and children, too. It was mid-January, cold but with high water moving downstream. As the sleigh load of people passed over a bridge, one side of the runners missed the end of the culvert, and the contents of the entire sleigh were thrown into the ice-cold, swiftly moving water. Three young children lost their lives. Two of them belonged to a family named Del Dalton and the other was the son of Mr. Arbon’s sister, Eva, and the late Ezra Anderson. Tears came to his eyes as he recalled this vivid experience of many years ago.
Mr. Arbon is now a high priest in the 14th Ward in Pocatello. He has also held other positions, among them counselor in the Sunday School Superintendency at Arbon. He comments that much hard work and sacrifice went into the construction of the present church at Arbon, which was remodeled some 25 years after it was built. Some of the residents of the valley had to move buildings and assist with building roads for the favored location of the church, which is across the street from the Arbon ranch and near the stream of water.
Arbon Valley still maintains a grade school which employs two teachers. A fine, up-to -date building houses the pupils.
Mr. Arbon says one of his fondest dreams came true when they could finally travel to and from the ranch on hard surface roads. At one time he never believed he would live long enough to witness this.
A larger and more convenient home was built at Arbon and later one at Malad to which his father retired in 1912. His father passed away in 1921, never having remarried. In 1948 the presently occupied home in Pocatello was built. The access to Arbon Valley from Malad on the southeast and Pocatello on the northeast were determining factors for Arbon ranchers when they started to make their homes in town for the winter months.
Mr. and Mrs. Arbon celebrated their Golden Wedding in 1948, having just moved into their new Pocatello home. Open house was held, where they renewed old friendships and later were interviewed on the radio station.
His wife, Elizabeth, passed away after a lengthy illness in January, 1957. Left alone, he had little interest for the home in town. His life’s work and memories were centered in the valley that had changed from sage and wild vegetation to fields of highly cultivated and productive crops reaching from the main roads to the foothills.
In his search to find someone to care for his home in Pocatello, he became acquainted with the present Mrs. Arbon, formerly Mrs. Arvilla Hughes McKay, a native of Malad, who had been resident of Downey for a number of years. They were married in February of 1958.
Mrs. Arbon says of her husband, “If more people were like him, this would be a much better world in which to live. He never says an unkind word about anyone nor to anyone. He is gentleness personified.”
They have enjoyed seven years together during which they have taken several trips. New York, California, Canada, and many of the states have been visited. They share a common enthusiasm for traveling.
(Picture on right side of the two previous paragraphs. Joseph and Arvilla-1965)
Mr. Arbon and his grandson, Dr. Ronald K. Arbon, and his two sons, Gary and Kenny, climbed the height of Bannock Peak on June 25, 1965, to once again view the familiar valley below with its green, fertile fields. By horseback and on foot, they ascended. They also visited the site of the sage-brush cemetery in which the drowned children were buried.
Mr. Arbon still rides his pony, Nelda, a well-bred sorrel that he has trained to come at his call and to “pull faces” for the children who delight in visiting him. The last two years were the first in many that he has not broken a horse for work or for riding.
(Picture on the left side of the previous paragraph and part of the following paragraph. Joseph on his favorite pony “Pete”-age 93)
Mr. Arbon says jokingly that this summer he had one favorite shade tree to sit under and do nothing. Actually he spent a busy summer, having raised a large garden, cared for a strawberry patch, and done considerable painting of buildings, gates, and doors, plus painting the house formerly occupied by those hired to help at the farm. For eleven years the house was occupied by Tom and Afton Lewis, who now have nine children who also call him “Grandpa.”
ARBON VALLEY, renamed for Joseph Arbon’s father, who, with his son, were first to spend a winter in the valley, is home; for it holds a life’s work and memories for the now 96 year old, friendly, and dearly beloved man.
(Picture of three men in front of the log cabin after the previous paragraph. The old Arbon home is still standing in Arbon Valley. Joseph with son Joseph George at his right and John Theodore at his left, 1967.)
These are some of the experiences of Father, as he told them to me when I was home for his ninetieth birthday, September 25, 1965.
Dad was ordained a High Priest on December 27, 1908, by Anthony W. Ivings, and was put in Bishop of the Arbon Ward; he was released in 1924. He was put in Bishop for the second time in 1926 and was released in 1939.
When Dad was a boy, he lived in Snowville, Utah; when he was about 11 years old, his mother died and the family moved to Samaria, Idaho. It was here that he met Mother. She had lost her mother, and she was the housekeeper for her father and four brothers.
When Father was about 15, he and his father (George Arbon) moved to Arbon to homestead on some land in the Arbon Valley. He and his father lived out there one winter alone, and Dad decided he was going to get him a “Cook,” so he rode a horse over the mountain to Samaria, Idaho, to ask Mother if she would marry him and be his cook.
Grandpa Davis was so mad at Dad for coming to steal his girl, he chased him from the place with a broom, but Dad said he would be back. He was a small, scrawny kid, yet showed great courage. He made a deal with Grandpa Davis that he would wait one year before he would come for “Lizzie,” which he did.
Dad had a “dead axle” wagon with four horses, which they drove to Salt Lake and they were married in the Salt Lake Temple on November 23, 1898.
While there, they bought a “chest of drawers,” and Mother rode all the way home sitting on the floor of the wagon with her back against her precious chest so it would not jostle too much as they went over the rough roads. (This was in November and the roads were frozen very hard and the “chuck holes” were very deep.)
Their wedding presents were $2.50 in cash by an Uncle Bill Jones, (who could well afford to have given them $25; he was considered quite wealthy for those times but all he gave them was $2.50) and six hens. There were six families living in Arbon that winter and each gave them a hen which supplied them with eggs all winter.
Mother made delicious bread, so many meals were hot bread spread with cream and sprinkled with sugar.
They had very little cash; all of their food had to be raised on the land. In order to get a little money, Dad pitched the hay all day for $1.50 a day.
When Dad wanted to build a fence around his land, he went to Malad to get the wire, and he had to sign a note for $25 to pay for this wire. Dad was very hurt about this, to think they could not trust him, so he said he paid that off as “quick as he could,” and it was a long while before he went into debt again for anything.
When he was about 16, he was hired by Ot [Ox] Samson to herd sheep. He was sent out with an old Mexican (Mike) to herd sheep on the hills around Soda Springs. This old character liked to drink a lot, and many a day it was up to Dad to keep the sheep from straying. He said the man was always good to him, and when the boss came around, he would always say, “That kid is all right.” I asked him if he didn’t get mighty lonesome, and said no, he could always sing, talk to his dog and the sheep. He said they become almost like people. He said some old ewe was always looking for her lamb and he would help her find it, so he kept busy.
At the end of each month he had $30 CASH.
When they made the trip to Salt Lake, they had no money for lodging, so they (Uncle Ed and Aunt Ettie went with them) would stop at night, pull off to the roadside, cut some sage brush (it grew 3 to 4 feet high), line the ground under the wagon bed, spread out their bedding, tie the horses to the wagon so they would not run away. This was a five-day trip, down and back, with four heads of horses and a single bed wagon.
Dad said before they left Salt Lake, they heated bricks and packed them around Mother’s feet to help ward off the cold. He can still remember how cold his hands got driving back to Samaria-no gloves or mittens and no extra money to buy any.
They lived in Arbon for two years before I was born. Before Mother was to be delivered, Dad took her to her sister, Lucy Weight, in Pleasantview, Idaho. He returned to Arbon. It was some time after I was born that they got word to him that he had a daughter, so he rode from Arbon to Pleasantview in November weather to see me and my saintly Mother. We remained in Pleasantview for a very short time and they went back to Arbon (about 45 miles over a high mountain.)
Father said I cried day and night for the first six months of my life. I was allergic to milk and they did not know about allergies then. I was so bad that I broke out in sores and had to be wrapped in cotton as it was softer than clothing and could be changed more easily.
Mother was only about 23 and Dad 27, no Doctor for 50 miles, and besides the snow was so deep they could not travel the roads anyway. How they ever lived through that first winter, I shall never understand. May their blessings in their eternal life make up for their earthly struggles is my sincere wish.
What a debt of gratitude a child owes to parents like this, and what a rich heritage is left to a child to grow up with such noble, hard-working, honest, religious parents.
My memory of “HOME” was a clean, orderly home, furnished modestly, but adequately. The expensive look came from the artistry of Mother and the work of her needles. She was always working at something.
Our home was LOVE, for one another, respect for parents and older relatives, no talking back or shouting at one another, no swearing or tantrums allowed.
Our home was a home of PRAYER, always before our meals and before we went to bed at night, each member taking their turn, so I can truthfully say I learned to pray at my Mother’s knee. This is my heritage. Rich indeed am I.
Father told me he was always thankful for his parents and what they went through for their membership in the church. Dad was always a church-going boy and continued through early manhood. He did many things for the advancement of the church. He had been ordained a Bishop, and I am sure he believed in its principles, but he said he really got his testimony of the power of the priesthood when he was called into the home of the Infangers. Mrs. Infanger was so very ill and had been for some time. Jonnie asked Dad if he would come up and administer to her. He stopped and got Uncle Ed Davis. They said she looked just like she was dead upon arrival, but they administered to her and before they left, she got up and ate something, said she felt fine, and she recovered completely. Dad said after that he never doubted the power of the priesthood.
Another experience he had was with evil spirits. He, Brother Ren Bailey, were called to Brother Bowen’s home as one of his daughters had the evil spirits. Father said that when they went into her room she was in bed but looked like a wild person. Two men were sitting on the bed trying to hold her down and could not. She had the strength of several, but they administered to her and there was no change. Finally all the men who held the priesthood made a circle around her bed, and again they administered to her. She went as limp as a child; she was perfectly quiet and they fed her some soup and she completely recovered. Father said they knew immediately when that spirit left the room. It was as if a person had walked out and a door was closed, but it did not depart until this circle was formed and all was united.
I remember the time my brother Joe was very sick. It was early morning. I must have been about 19 years old and Harold was about 6. Father was down in the garden hoeing weeds. He said someone spoke to him and said go to the house. He thought no, he would finish that particular row and then go; but the voice again said to go to the house. He came up and went to the bedroom where Joe lay. Mother had called the doctor but he had not come. Joe was delirious. I remember his saying to me, “Get away from that window; I’m going out.” He was burning with fever. Mother had done all that she knew to do. When Father came into the room, she said, “I’m glad you came. Administer to him.” This he did. It was only minutes when he opened his eyes and said, “Hello, Sis.” (He calls me Sis to this day.) He looked just like he had woken from a sleep. His temperature left, and he ate some food. In a short time he was up playing, completely recovered.
This I saw and testify to be the truth. My father has the gift of healing. I too have been given it, as on several occasions my prayer for the sick has been answered, and I have felt a power “other than my own,” for which I am so grateful. I testify in the name of the Lord of this power. I know it exists. I want to live so it will ever be with me.