Niels Christensen was born in Sohl, Ringkobing, Denmark on December 6, 1876. He was the son of Jens Peder Nielsen and Johanna Jeppesen. He had one half brother Martin Christensen on his mothers side and also a half sister Marne who died when a young girl. He had two half brothers on his fathers side, Peter Nielsen and Carl Nielsen. Carl Nielsen was an officer in the Danish Navy, was married and had a family. Peter Nielsen came to America and lived in our home for a few years about 1915. He died at Bothel, Washington about 1935. (I’m not sure of the date.) Peter never married. This is about all the information I have on my fathers family. His half brother Martin had a farm near us at Elkhorn. We grew up with his family of five daughters.
My fathers family was very poor. He says he can remember going from door to door with his mother, begging for food. He tells about his mother hiring him out to herd cows when he was six years of age. The home he had to live in was so dirty he became infested with lice. He ran away and went home. His mother gave him a spanking and made him sleep in a corner on the floor and sent him back to his job in the morning. The small pay he received he gave to his mother to feed the family. He really knew what poverty was. When he was about nine years old, I think the Church encouraged and helped them financially to come to America. My father said he and his half brother, Martin would get so hungry on the ship coming over that they would do any kind of menial work for a handful of hard tack (these were small hard biscuits that were carried in large barrels on the deck of the ship). He said they would eat the leftovers from plates sent back from the tables.
I can’t remember my father ever mentioning anything about how they got to Utah. I’m sure if they had come with any of the Companies (pioneers) he would have made some reference to it. I assume they came by train. They settled in Richfield, Utah for a time. While here my father tells of going to work in a sawmill when he was 12 years old. He had to lift such heavy logs that the blood would run from his ears and nose. It was up to him pretty well to support the family. His stepfather was a kind, good man to his family but not a provider. His mother and father separated when he was very young and his mother married Peder Christensen so Martin was a half brother. My fathers name was Nielsen but he took the name of his stepfather (Christensen). That is the name I am sealed to him under.
My father was baptized in Richfield, Utah on August 2, 1886 by Niels Andersen who was his Uncle (my grandmother’s brother). Martin was also baptized on that date. Their mother and father (Niels stepfather) were also baptized in April 1886 and were rebaptized on August 2, 1886. I do not know why. They loved their coffee and I’m sure they never gave it up. They were good, honest, and kind people.
I remember my father talking about living in Nephi, Utah also, before coming to the Malad Valley in about the early 1890’s. He and my mother, Margaret Vanderwood, were married on January 25, 1895.
When they first came to this Valley they lived in a little log house south of town. The two boys chopped sage brush, thus helping the settlers clear their land and get it ready to plant crops. This was also necessary before they could file homestead rights. One of the men my father worked for was John Vanderwood, who said Niels can grub more sage in a day than anyone I have ever had worked for me. It was here he met my mother and her sister Anna. His brother Martin married Anna about the same time my parents were married. They both filed homestead rights on places near the Vanderwood home. In fact our place joined their land.
The first year or so they lived with my fathers parents until he could clear a place to build a one room house. There was a grain bin in one corner. Mother said she had never seen anything look so beautiful as that room when they moved in. It was built as near my grandmother as it could be. He became an American Citizen November 3, 1898. This was necessary before he could file for Homestead Rights.
Mother was alone much of the time as it was necessary for father to be away much of the time. My three older brothers were born here. There was no water on the place, my mother had a cart with a water barrel on it, she would hitch their one horse to the cart, take my brother Frank who was the youngest, put a leg of the bedstead on John’s and Neal’s dresses so they would stay put until she could get back, and they would hurry to grandfathers (who had a well) for water. This was done three or four times a week. This water had to water the horse and cow, and supply all their needs.
My father would grub sage on his own place and for neighbors to make a little extra money. When cold weather came, he would go up to Raft River near American Falls and break wild horses. He was paid $25.00 a month for this. He would send it all home to mother. He would play cards, repair watches or any small job to make some extra money. He was always mechanically minded, could do most anything with his hands and was certainly not lazy. There was a daughter born next, she died of Whooping Cough when she was about nine months old, next came another daughter Ida Mae, then me. In the meantime, my father had saved enough money so he and his brother Martin bought a well drilling machine together and for several years they drilled wells for many of the settlers in the valley. He was away from home drilling a well somewhere at the time I was born on a cold snowy night the 7th of February. Mother called my two older brothers John (nine) and Neal (seven) to hitch the team to the sleigh and go get grandmother Vanderwood who lived two miles away. This they did and I was delivered safely. It was several days later my father learned of the addition to the family.
Soon after that, father thought he should stay home and farm his land. By this time he had most of the sage cleared and he could plant crops.
On March 1, 1904 he filed homestead rights on his one hundred and sixty acres.
He had built a two room log house before I was born on the North West part of the land. Later he added two more large rooms and a pantry and closet. He dug a cellar under the kitchen. We entered it through a trap door about 3 x 6. There were stones for steps. It had a dirt floor. He built shelves here for mother to keep her bottled fruit on, also a cupboard for mother to keep big pans of milk with screen doors to keep bugs and mice out. They also cured all their own meat. Kept it on a big table where they smoked and salted it, then would cover it with cheesecloth. He raised his own pigs for our meat. That was one of the chores he and my older brothers had to do each winter. How we enjoyed the fresh meat, sausage and head cheese they would make. My mother would render lard enough to supply the shortening she used for a year baking. They would make sausage patties and put them in a large crock and cover each layer with lard. We had sausage for many months.
Father also hauled all the firewood we used for the year. He and my older brothers would hitch the team to running gears (wagon with box off) and go to the nearby canyons and saw mahogany and other trees down and load them on the wagon as much as the horses could pull, then start for home. It was always dark by the time they arrived. Mother was always anxious and worried until she could hear them coming. It was a dangerous thing to cut and load these logs with the equipment they had. Mother would always send a big lunch and a jug of water. Then for days father and the boys were busy sawing and splitting the wood and stacking it against the house. My younger brothers would have to keep the wood box that stood behind the kitchen stove, full all the time.
Father started a blacksmith shop where he would point and sharpen plow shares, shoe horses, set wagon and buggy tires, welding or other jobs anyone needed done on farms. I can never remember the time he was ever idle. The boys were getting old enough to do most of the work on the farm. Father would help with putting up the hay and harvesting the grain and irrigation, but my father would never milk a cow or feed chickens or pigs, this work he left to mother and the boys. He never did any gardening either except plow it. He felt this was women’s work to get done along with the children’s help. This she did along with caring for her family of eight children, plus the two of them, plus father’s half brother, Peter Nielsen who came from Denmark and stayed with us four or five years. His half brother James Anderson, who was a Naval Officer would spend summers with us, thus mother sat twelve down at the table three times each day, what responsibility that must have been for both my parents, both to provide and prepare for that many. They were blessed with the necessities of life so my mother always set a good table, no matter how many there were at mealtime. In addition to our large family there was always two or three extra places set for the noon day meal as my father would never come in for lunch without asking anyone who might be in the blacksmith shop having work done to come and eat with us and I’m sure no one ever refused because my mother was a good cook that reputation had spread throughout the valley.
My father was a very generous man both with his family and anyone who needed it. Jonah Evans told me a story about him when we moved back to Malad in 1972. When Jonah was a small boy his widowed mother sent him to father’s blacksmith shop with two plow points to be sharpened. She gave him fifty cents to pay when the job was done. My father said you take that back to your mother. She needs it to care for you children. This was typical of my father throughout his lifetime. He was never blessed with an abundance of worldly goods but always had what he needed. I can never remember my father being in debt. Any man who came through Malad while father had his garage and service station could get the price of a meal and a tank full of gasoline if he needed it. Many times he took whole families into his home where he cared for them until he could fix their car, then gave them money and sent them on their way.
He wanted his sons to have land of their own so when the oldest son John, was ready to marry, father bought forty acres of land, paid for it, and then built a two room home on it, helped furnish it and gave him a team of horses, buggy and helped him to setup a home. He then bought forty acres for Neal the second son, but Neal was not interested in farming and left home to go into the army, where he served during World War I. Father then offered it to his third son, Frank, who also refused it and went out on his own. Father became discouraged after that and sold the land and bought war bonds and stamps. When Neal came back from the service father gave him the war bonds and stamps to buy a home. Neal came home as a Commissioned Officer, we were all very proud of him. Father later gave Neal half interest in our old farm, which had been sold to an uncle, but because of a drop in wheat prices was unable to pay for it, so father had to take it back and since he was unable to farm it himself, he was happy to have Neal and his family move onto it.
Father was a very versatile person, could do most anything he set his hand to. He invented a special pipe lifter for repairing wells. It was used extensively throughout the valley. Many urged him to patent it but he never did. He also built a special derrick for stacking hay and grain. He was a good carpenter and could repair almost anything from watches and clocks to automobiles and all kinds of farm equipment. He often traveled from one end of this entire valley to another helping those who needed repair work of any kind done. I don’t think he ever refused anyone. He was very proud of his home, it was a log six room house, he bought mother all the conveniences that were available at that time. We were one of the first families in our area to have water piped into the house and a sink that drains to the outside. This was a great labor saver for my mother. He also put a gasoline engine on the washing machine. He built a small lean to on the back of our summer kitchen to house the engine. A long belt reached the washing machine. The belt could be removed when the washer was not being used. A door closed the engine room from the summer kitchen when the belt was removed. This made my mother’s washing chores for a large family much easier.
One day a man drove an automobile out to our farm to show father. It had a top and fold down windshield, but no front doors, and had carbide lights. It was seldom driven after dark. He called me and my sister Ida to come and go for a ride as mother was busy. What a thrill. It was a Buick car, with no front doors or windshield or top. We were so frightened we sat right on the floor. Then he took mother for a ride and bought the car. It was the first automobile in Elkhorn. There were few in Malad. He drove this car a few years then bought an old Auburn. Prior to that time father either drove our black top buggy or rode a horse into Malad to get supplies. We also had a single buggy we used when father could not take us in the car. My sister and I would drive that to town on rare occasions.
Father brought a real bathtub home one time. We never knew what he might bring. We no longer had to bathe in the wash tub. The water still had to be heated on top of the stove and most of the family bathed in the same water, starting with the youngest. How the older brother who was home hated that. The tub stood on end in the corner when we were through each time.
Father spent a week in Ogden each winter buying for his shop. Mother never accompanied him as she felt her place was at home with the family. It was an exciting time for the family as he always brought us fun gifts home. One time he went to California with a load of livestock. We couldn’t wait until he came home and shared his experiences with us. These were the only times I can remember my father being away from home. We had a happy secure home life. Father would take mother to Ogden with him after he bought a better car (Chandler), sometimes they would take my sister Ida or me with them.
The whole family was shocked and saddened when our mother passed away suddenly. She died peacefully in her sleep on October 14, 1919. The oldest son John was living just about two miles away in his own home. Son Neal had returned from overseas and Frank was home for a visit from Nevada. This was the first time the family had been home in many years. This was a real blow to my father. Although we felt mother was not well, when their youngest child, Vesta, was born she had a hard time but we didn’t realize she had a bad heart.
Father tried to be a mother and father to us after that. In June of the next year he sold the farm to my uncle and he bought us a nice home in Malad located on Bush Avenue. Here he lived the rest of his life.
Retirement was not for father, he had to keep busy. He soon began repairing cars in the backyard of his home. A shed or garage was made into a workshop and he kept busy there when he wasn’t running the engine for a threshing machine in the fall until all the stacks of grain in our community was threshed. This he enjoyed doing as it took him out on farms where he had spent so much of his life in this valley.
His auto repair business outgrew his facilities in our backyard and in 1927 he bought an almost new brick building from Dan K. Evans on Bannock Street and moved into it. Here he worked the rest of his life. He opened a Conoco Gas station in the front. John Bush ran this for many years. This was a very pleasant association for my father.
In 1926 Neal died suddenly of meningitis at the age of 28, and again dad was left with the responsibility of the farm. He kept it for about one year and sold it to John Leavitt, who still owns it but has leveled all the buildings. The trees and orchard have long since died, a few yellow roses that mother planted still grow wild and bloom and a quonset hut type shed stands to mark the spot where our home stood. For many years after mother died father would go to each Decoration (Memorial Day) and gather roses and Iris from the plants mother had planted and put on her grave.
Father took Jim, his youngest son into the business with him. They worked together. This association brought father much joy and satisfaction. He built a home for Jim next to his home on Bush Ave. On 20th July, 1937, Jim contracted lobar pneumonia and was dead in four days in spite of all that was done for him. He left a wife and two children. Jim was just 28 years old. This was another very sad loss for my father. Vesta’s husband, Ralph Facer, then took Jim’s place in the garage with father and was with him until his death.
Father had a special love for his grandchildren. His greatest joy was to buy some special gifts for them. He came often to see them and when he was at our home my children were his special interest, when he was at brother Ralph’s home they had his full attention, that is why they loved him so much. Ralph and I were the ones who lived near enough for him to enjoy our families.
The youngest of his seven living children, Vesta, married Ralph Facer 16 December 1933, and moved to Montpelier, Idaho. That left my father alone. He always said he would never marry while he had children at home. He kept that promise.
In November 1934 he married Emma Babbit Pigg. She had two children by a former marriage. They had six children of their own. One died (Mary Ann) from severe burns.
He continued to work from early morning until late at night at his garage. He enjoyed his little children and continued to do all he could for others and enjoyed visiting his old lifelong friends who loved to congregate at the garage.
He had a real aversion to doctors, it was practically impossible to get father to go to a doctor. He enjoyed good health all his life. The only time I remember him not being up to par was when his back would give him some pain, that was not often. The last few years of his life he complained of indigestion or burning pain in his chest but refused to do anything about it. He suffered a fatal heart attack while servicing a car. He died a few minutes after entering the hospital on 9 January 1945. He was just 68 years old. He would have wanted it this way because to have been confined to bed for any period of time would have been sheer torture for father.
He left six living children and 15 grandchildren by his first marriage and a wife and five children from his second marriage. He had a host of friends.
As long as I can remember father chewed Mail Pouch tobacco and always had a large wad of it in his cheek. This was very much a part of his way of life. He always said he would never get sick as the tobacco kept him well and germs away.
He was a very good father and always had the interest of his family at heart and will be lovingly remembered by his family and friends.