112. My grandfather I never knew, swam the Colorado river, quiet, great man, died young.
HOW MANY OF YOU KNOW, OR HAVE KNOWN YOUR GRANDPAS? I NEVER KNEW MY OWN GRANDFATHER – MY MOTHER’S FATHER (OR MY FATHER’S FATHER AND MOTHER). WHAT A BLESSING IF YOU KNOW THEM PERSONALLY. I HAVE ENJOYED GETTING TO KNOW MY MOTHER’S FATHER BETTER THROUGH THE HISTORIES WRITTEN BY MY MOTHER, AND HER SISTER LA VERN – AND WHAT THEY WROTE. Some following is what they wrote:
My mother Ruth’s father, John Butler Allen was born October 8, 1856, in Spanish Fork, Utah. His parents were Philo Allen and Sarah Adeline Butler, who was his second wife. Philo Allen and his first wife, Lucy, were some of the first settlers called to settle Spanish Fork, and while they were establishing dwelling places or homes, they lived in a dug out in the side of the mountain.
In this they were warm and comfortable while their cabin was being built. Sarah Adeline was the daughter of John Lowe Butler, who was the first bishop in Spanish Fork, and when they were married, Philo was 39, and his first wife was 27, and Sarah was 16.
John was the first child of six children, four of whom died in infancy as his mother, Sarah, was unable to nurse her babies. He and “Libby” (Sarah Elizabeth) were kept alive by them sucking milk into a wheat straw or hollow part of a turkey feather and then letting the milk drop into the baby’s mouth, until they were strong enough to be spoon fed. There were no baby bottles or baby formulas available then. There was a high death rate among babies due to methods of feeding, poor sanitation, no modern medicines to fight infection, etc. Herbs were used almost exclusively, many learned from the Indians.
From Spanish Fork they moved to South Weber. John was a small boy about seven, when Brigham Young called his father, Philo Allen, to help settle places in Southern Utah. There was a lot of Indian trouble brewing everywhere, especially in Southern Utah, and Philo Allen was a peacemaker especially with the Indians. He extended love and friendship and his special calling was to establish peace among the Indians. It is said that many Indians named their child Philo, for Philo Allen. For more about Philo Allen, see blog #103.
First they went to Greenville, Beaver County. Then they were called to help resettle Panguitch in 1872. They had tried to settle Panguitch in 1870, but the Indian trouble had been so bad the settlers had given up and deserted it. Panguitch was finally established by the settlers building a fort, for their protection. From Panguitch they went to upper Kanab. From there Philo was called to help settle Escalante. Philo’s first wife and children went with him to Escalante while John B., Libby, and their mother, (Sarah Adeline Butler) remained in Panguitch. For some of his fathers and mothers history, see blog # 104.
Sometime during John’s early childhood, problems arose and his mother Sarah severed connections with her husband Philo, and in an angry hurt mood went to St. George and had herself sealed to Hyrum Smith. She had, however, been previously sealed to Philo in the office of President Woodruff, there being no Temple or Endowment House open at the time. There’ll be a lot of straightening out to do during the Millennium. Her second marriage to John Henry Tuttle in 1895 was quite a happy marriage.
At a very early age, John shouldered the responsibility of helping provide for his mother and sister. They endured great hardships during all these moves and the early settlement of Panguitch. While John was young and attended school, they lived at the old Butler ranch on the Sevier River, four miles south of Panguitch. He would walk over the hill or mountain to attend school in Panguitch. This was how he got his education.
John was very industrious and did many different kinds of work. He was tall and slender and had great strength and endurance. He had black hair and blue eyes. He was very even tempered and he very seldom lost his temper or spoke unkindly. But when he did speak it was with authority, and his children minded. When John grew up, farming became his main occupation, with doing many different jobs that would fit in with farming. He trapped for fur in the winter, sheared sheep in the spring, and hauled freight to Colorado.
One time he and some other men were trapping for fur along the Colorado river. They got stranded and their provisions were very scarce. It became necessary for one of them to attempt to swim across that raging current to get supplies and then bring them back by boat. They spotted a boat across the river but could not attract anyone’s attention. Father being a great swimmer, attempted to swim across. In swimming across the Colorado river, Father went down stream four miles and lost his hearing for days and literally “offered his life for his friends.” He told the story of how he felt he could not make it, and would gladly have given up the painful struggle but for the shouts of the men calling, “Keep it up Johnny–you can do it.” This slogan became a life style of our family in the many struggles we faced together. So let me say to you, “Keep it up Johnny, you can do it!”
However he did contact the boaters and they rescued the trappers and brought them to safety. When they freighted, several traveled together for protection. On one of these freighting trips into Colorado, they camped near some caves and went exploring through them and found some Indian Mummies. When they reached their destination in Colorado they reported this to the authorities there, but they never heard any more about it.
John grew to young manhood in and around Panguitch. Panguitch is a Piute Indian word which means “Big Fish”. He owned a small farm 5 miles south east of the town and had a sizable herd of cattle. He was fairly well to do at the time he married mother Levinah, moving her as a bride into a 4 room brick house he had previously built. He was 35 years old, and she was 23, and had taught school some. Soon after this, however, there was an extremely hard winter. His cattle which were on the Waweep range south of Kanab, down by the Colorado River, all froze to death, as John was unable to get to them..
He never again went into the cattle business, and as a result the family circumstances were somewhat destitute. He went each spring to shear sheep for several weeks which was the main money source of the year. He also drove a freight wagon to the nearest railroad in Marysvale, Utah. This was extremely difficult particularly during winter months when temperatures often reached 40 degrees below zero.
LaVern, who was 9 when her father died, wrote the following: “The title of “Honest John” was attached to John as “Honest Abe” was to Lincoln. His word was accepted anywhere anytime by those who knew him. He stubbornly upheld what he believed to be right no matter whose opinion he opposed. At one time a case was thrown out of court, because John felt differently than the other 11 jurymen and would not give in. Father’s nick name was “Honest John.” This was very suitable. He was the most honest man I have ever known. One time I had done something, I don’t remember what, but I do remember his words. “LaVern, it is worse to tell a lie about anything, than to do the act in the first place. Then you are wrong twice.” Although he lived with and supported his mother he never would allow anyone to discredit his father. “My father is a wonderful man,” he taught to his children and, “You can be proud of your heritage.”
While we were children, Father and Mother would move out to the ranch in the summer time, and back in to our home in Panguitch for winter. They also ran different ranches in the summertime. Mother would make cheese. Some of the cheese was put up for winter, but some cheese went to buy fruit and other things. The stores were always glad to buy Mother’s cheese.
Our Panguitch home was made of brick with two large rooms downstairs, and two above it. This home was typical of the early brick homes, and very well made. Here most of us children were born. At first no water was in the house but there was a water tap outside which supplied water for the livestock and household needs.
We had many windows in it facing south, and a big bay window on the East. Mother always had every window filled with flowers: geraniums, ferns, and other kinds of flowers. When there was a death in the town, Mother always had some flowers to send to the bereaved family. Many times these were the only flowers available.
The largest room was our kitchen. It had a stairway leading upstairs on the north, a closet under the stairway, and the old coal stove on the west. There was a workbench under the windows on the south and on the north were the cupboards and flour bin. Mother’s sewing machine was always in the big bay window on the east. In the center was the very large table where we all met and had morning and evening prayers together, before we sat down to eat our breakfast and evening meals.
In the evening this table was the place where we all sat down to study. From the oldest to the youngest, this was our evening entertainment, with a coal oil lamp in the middle of the table. To us, growing up meant going to college. There was no alternative. When we grew up it was college. That was the goal father and mother had for us children, and mother was carrying it out. Out of the eight children that lived, six of us taught school. I can remember the large iron stove, with the warming oven on the pipe and the reservoir at the back. On wash days and Saturdays the boiler was filled on top of the stove, ready for the wash or the many baths. For bathroom privacy, blankets were stretched around and made the coziest warmest bathroom around that #3 wash tub, and we all came out as shiny as if we had all been polished for the occasion. The boys had the big bedroom upstairs and the girls the smaller one. Father and Mother had their own downstairs.
(By Pal) One story my mother Ruth told was that one of the upstairs bedrooms had just 2 by 4's on the walls, with pieces of wood nailed horizontally between them which served as shelves. Her mother Levinah had kept many letters her husband John had written to her, in a box on one of those “shelves”. One time when she went to St. George for a few weeks to do Temple work, the boys decided to surprise their mother, and they plastered the walls in the upstairs bedrooms. When she came back that time, she asked them “What did you do with my box of letters?” They said they had just plastered over them, thinking they weren’t important. Of course, she was disappointed. They probably are still there in the walls – and who knows what else?--
(Back to LaVern’s writings) “Father and Mother both were great readers. I remember my father on Sundays, dressed in his suit, lying on a little bed with the sun shining on him, reading the scriptures while Mother listened as she prepared dinner. President David O. McKay set him apart as a high priest while he was just a young man. Father was a just and honest man. His opinion and council was much sought after and respected by others. He loved to study the stars. Had he lived today I think he would have been an astronomer.
“Father’s farm was way up in Casto canyon. There was a log cabin and a log barn on it with a corral close. This made a warm place for the horses and cows. Father was always so careful of his horses. He depended on them so much to help him make a living. We had to always be on the guard for rattle snakes. One day Ruth was in the high chair and there was a snake winding itself up the legs of the chair. Someone screamed and here came Father and the boys with a shovel. They caught the snake on the shovel and threw it outside. Another time we were gathering eggs. The hens had stole their nest out under the sagebrush. What a surprise to see a snake curled up in the nest
Father was a great fisherman. I have heard people tell that he caught a seven pound fish one time. He loved to fish more for food than for sport. He was always early to rise. He would get up at 4 a.m., go turn the water and walk on down to Diversion Dam on the Sevier River, and catch a mess of fish for breakfast. One morning he let me go with him. I sat on the bank holding the pole out over the running, whirling water. As the sun came up all the world began to whirl, and go in circles. Soon my eyes and my head was keeping motion with the water, and I started to tumble in. Father grabbed me just in time to save me from hitting the water.
In the spring all the men with herds of sheep would bring the sheep to the big shearing pen, and all the wood would be clipped off. This was a big time of the year. Mother would cook for the shearers and the menfolk would have a good job that paid well. One time they let us children sit upon those tall fences and watch them shear the sheep. How sorry I felt for those sheep. They looked so skinned.
Father’s farm was way up in Casto Canyon. Sometimes, in the summer, Father would run the Haywood ranch too, and milk their cows. Mother would always make cheese in the summer. Father made mother a special cheese knife to help her cut the curd. The cheese curd was put in molds to press. They had to be turned in the evening. One evening when Mother went to turn them she saw a mouse. She jumped on a bench and squealed, “John, there is a mouse on the cheese.” Whenever anyone wanted to tease mother they would shout, “John, there is a mouse on the cheese,” in that same high pitched voice. It was our call for help.” (Written by LaVern)
My mother Ruth, who was six when John died, wrote: My memories of my father are very few. I remember the summer before he died that he got his eye injured by a horse switching its tail, and a horse hair cutting the eye ball. I remember him sitting on a chair in the front yard, mother examining it and I still shudder at the memory of her voice when she half sobbed, “Oh, John, the eye ball is cut!”
Ruth’s sister LaVern wrote about this also:
In the summer of 1914 Father was working in the timbers. A sliver got into his eye, and later a horse switched his tail and a long hair cut through Father’s eye again. These accidents caused him to go blind in that eye. The suffering from this brought on Bright’s Disease. I remember him laying on “the little bed”, as we called a single one placed in front of a window, and reading to mother from the Book of Mormon while she worked. He died the 26th of October 1914, after problems which developed over several months from the infection which started in his eye. Today antibiotics would make that better in just a few days. He was only 56 years old.
My father was not one to be in the limelight publicly. If he held any Church leadership positions I haven’t heard of them. He was a quiet unassuming man, and a hard worker. I’m sure he had deep religious convictions and lived rather than preached the principles of the Gospel. After father’s death I don’t remember mother talking about him much. I used to think maybe she didn’t care. Now with maturity I realize she looked to and lived in the future, rather than grieve of the past, for the very purpose of giving her family strength and determination to face life. What a good example they both gave us. Eternity with them is worth working for.
He left Mother with 8 children, Vina, the oldest, was just 19 and Earl 17, Adelia the youngest was only one year old and 6 days. The first steps she took was to walk across the floor to Father’s casket.
When Father had died, Mother called us children to her and told us that we must be very brave, for we would have to go on and reach the high ideals they had planned for us, without his help. Mother never broke down and cried at this time. Mother was the nucleus, courage, and strength that kept our family going. Never do I remember a cross word in our home. Mother said, “If you cannot win with love, you cannot win.” She kept the family together with one arm around us all, the other she placed in the hand of our Heavenly Father, and faith and prayer were her guides through life.
Father’s passing threw a heavy load of responsibility on the young shoulders of Earl and George. They assumed the responsibility of running the farm and taking care of Mother and us younger children. Never did a family cling together, and work for, and love each other, as this family did. Faith and prayers pulled them through.
Some of my mother Ruth's poems are about her mother and father. You have probably read them in blog # 95. They were a very close and loving family!
My mother Ruth’s father, John Butler Allen was born October 8, 1856, in Spanish Fork, Utah. His parents were Philo Allen and Sarah Adeline Butler, who was his second wife. Philo Allen and his first wife, Lucy, were some of the first settlers called to settle Spanish Fork, and while they were establishing dwelling places or homes, they lived in a dug out in the side of the mountain.
John was the first child of six children, four of whom died in infancy as his mother, Sarah, was unable to nurse her babies. He and “Libby” (Sarah Elizabeth) were kept alive by them sucking milk into a wheat straw or hollow part of a turkey feather and then letting the milk drop into the baby’s mouth, until they were strong enough to be spoon fed. There were no baby bottles or baby formulas available then. There was a high death rate among babies due to methods of feeding, poor sanitation, no modern medicines to fight infection, etc. Herbs were used almost exclusively, many learned from the Indians.
From Spanish Fork they moved to South Weber. John was a small boy about seven, when Brigham Young called his father, Philo Allen, to help settle places in Southern Utah. There was a lot of Indian trouble brewing everywhere, especially in Southern Utah, and Philo Allen was a peacemaker especially with the Indians. He extended love and friendship and his special calling was to establish peace among the Indians. It is said that many Indians named their child Philo, for Philo Allen. For more about Philo Allen, see blog #103.
First they went to Greenville, Beaver County. Then they were called to help resettle Panguitch in 1872. They had tried to settle Panguitch in 1870, but the Indian trouble had been so bad the settlers had given up and deserted it. Panguitch was finally established by the settlers building a fort, for their protection. From Panguitch they went to upper Kanab. From there Philo was called to help settle Escalante. Philo’s first wife and children went with him to Escalante while John B., Libby, and their mother, (Sarah Adeline Butler) remained in Panguitch. For some of his fathers and mothers history, see blog # 104.
Sometime during John’s early childhood, problems arose and his mother Sarah severed connections with her husband Philo, and in an angry hurt mood went to St. George and had herself sealed to Hyrum Smith. She had, however, been previously sealed to Philo in the office of President Woodruff, there being no Temple or Endowment House open at the time. There’ll be a lot of straightening out to do during the Millennium. Her second marriage to John Henry Tuttle in 1895 was quite a happy marriage.
At a very early age, John shouldered the responsibility of helping provide for his mother and sister. They endured great hardships during all these moves and the early settlement of Panguitch. While John was young and attended school, they lived at the old Butler ranch on the Sevier River, four miles south of Panguitch. He would walk over the hill or mountain to attend school in Panguitch. This was how he got his education.
John was very industrious and did many different kinds of work. He was tall and slender and had great strength and endurance. He had black hair and blue eyes. He was very even tempered and he very seldom lost his temper or spoke unkindly. But when he did speak it was with authority, and his children minded. When John grew up, farming became his main occupation, with doing many different jobs that would fit in with farming. He trapped for fur in the winter, sheared sheep in the spring, and hauled freight to Colorado.
One time he and some other men were trapping for fur along the Colorado river. They got stranded and their provisions were very scarce. It became necessary for one of them to attempt to swim across that raging current to get supplies and then bring them back by boat. They spotted a boat across the river but could not attract anyone’s attention. Father being a great swimmer, attempted to swim across. In swimming across the Colorado river, Father went down stream four miles and lost his hearing for days and literally “offered his life for his friends.” He told the story of how he felt he could not make it, and would gladly have given up the painful struggle but for the shouts of the men calling, “Keep it up Johnny–you can do it.” This slogan became a life style of our family in the many struggles we faced together. So let me say to you, “Keep it up Johnny, you can do it!”
However he did contact the boaters and they rescued the trappers and brought them to safety. When they freighted, several traveled together for protection. On one of these freighting trips into Colorado, they camped near some caves and went exploring through them and found some Indian Mummies. When they reached their destination in Colorado they reported this to the authorities there, but they never heard any more about it.
John grew to young manhood in and around Panguitch. Panguitch is a Piute Indian word which means “Big Fish”. He owned a small farm 5 miles south east of the town and had a sizable herd of cattle. He was fairly well to do at the time he married mother Levinah, moving her as a bride into a 4 room brick house he had previously built. He was 35 years old, and she was 23, and had taught school some. Soon after this, however, there was an extremely hard winter. His cattle which were on the Waweep range south of Kanab, down by the Colorado River, all froze to death, as John was unable to get to them..
He never again went into the cattle business, and as a result the family circumstances were somewhat destitute. He went each spring to shear sheep for several weeks which was the main money source of the year. He also drove a freight wagon to the nearest railroad in Marysvale, Utah. This was extremely difficult particularly during winter months when temperatures often reached 40 degrees below zero.
LaVern, who was 9 when her father died, wrote the following: “The title of “Honest John” was attached to John as “Honest Abe” was to Lincoln. His word was accepted anywhere anytime by those who knew him. He stubbornly upheld what he believed to be right no matter whose opinion he opposed. At one time a case was thrown out of court, because John felt differently than the other 11 jurymen and would not give in. Father’s nick name was “Honest John.” This was very suitable. He was the most honest man I have ever known. One time I had done something, I don’t remember what, but I do remember his words. “LaVern, it is worse to tell a lie about anything, than to do the act in the first place. Then you are wrong twice.” Although he lived with and supported his mother he never would allow anyone to discredit his father. “My father is a wonderful man,” he taught to his children and, “You can be proud of your heritage.”
While we were children, Father and Mother would move out to the ranch in the summer time, and back in to our home in Panguitch for winter. They also ran different ranches in the summertime. Mother would make cheese. Some of the cheese was put up for winter, but some cheese went to buy fruit and other things. The stores were always glad to buy Mother’s cheese.
Our Panguitch home was made of brick with two large rooms downstairs, and two above it. This home was typical of the early brick homes, and very well made. Here most of us children were born. At first no water was in the house but there was a water tap outside which supplied water for the livestock and household needs.
We had many windows in it facing south, and a big bay window on the East. Mother always had every window filled with flowers: geraniums, ferns, and other kinds of flowers. When there was a death in the town, Mother always had some flowers to send to the bereaved family. Many times these were the only flowers available.
The largest room was our kitchen. It had a stairway leading upstairs on the north, a closet under the stairway, and the old coal stove on the west. There was a workbench under the windows on the south and on the north were the cupboards and flour bin. Mother’s sewing machine was always in the big bay window on the east. In the center was the very large table where we all met and had morning and evening prayers together, before we sat down to eat our breakfast and evening meals.
In the evening this table was the place where we all sat down to study. From the oldest to the youngest, this was our evening entertainment, with a coal oil lamp in the middle of the table. To us, growing up meant going to college. There was no alternative. When we grew up it was college. That was the goal father and mother had for us children, and mother was carrying it out. Out of the eight children that lived, six of us taught school. I can remember the large iron stove, with the warming oven on the pipe and the reservoir at the back. On wash days and Saturdays the boiler was filled on top of the stove, ready for the wash or the many baths. For bathroom privacy, blankets were stretched around and made the coziest warmest bathroom around that #3 wash tub, and we all came out as shiny as if we had all been polished for the occasion. The boys had the big bedroom upstairs and the girls the smaller one. Father and Mother had their own downstairs.
(By Pal) One story my mother Ruth told was that one of the upstairs bedrooms had just 2 by 4's on the walls, with pieces of wood nailed horizontally between them which served as shelves. Her mother Levinah had kept many letters her husband John had written to her, in a box on one of those “shelves”. One time when she went to St. George for a few weeks to do Temple work, the boys decided to surprise their mother, and they plastered the walls in the upstairs bedrooms. When she came back that time, she asked them “What did you do with my box of letters?” They said they had just plastered over them, thinking they weren’t important. Of course, she was disappointed. They probably are still there in the walls – and who knows what else?--
(Back to LaVern’s writings) “Father and Mother both were great readers. I remember my father on Sundays, dressed in his suit, lying on a little bed with the sun shining on him, reading the scriptures while Mother listened as she prepared dinner. President David O. McKay set him apart as a high priest while he was just a young man. Father was a just and honest man. His opinion and council was much sought after and respected by others. He loved to study the stars. Had he lived today I think he would have been an astronomer.
“Father’s farm was way up in Casto canyon. There was a log cabin and a log barn on it with a corral close. This made a warm place for the horses and cows. Father was always so careful of his horses. He depended on them so much to help him make a living. We had to always be on the guard for rattle snakes. One day Ruth was in the high chair and there was a snake winding itself up the legs of the chair. Someone screamed and here came Father and the boys with a shovel. They caught the snake on the shovel and threw it outside. Another time we were gathering eggs. The hens had stole their nest out under the sagebrush. What a surprise to see a snake curled up in the nest
Father was a great fisherman. I have heard people tell that he caught a seven pound fish one time. He loved to fish more for food than for sport. He was always early to rise. He would get up at 4 a.m., go turn the water and walk on down to Diversion Dam on the Sevier River, and catch a mess of fish for breakfast. One morning he let me go with him. I sat on the bank holding the pole out over the running, whirling water. As the sun came up all the world began to whirl, and go in circles. Soon my eyes and my head was keeping motion with the water, and I started to tumble in. Father grabbed me just in time to save me from hitting the water.
In the spring all the men with herds of sheep would bring the sheep to the big shearing pen, and all the wood would be clipped off. This was a big time of the year. Mother would cook for the shearers and the menfolk would have a good job that paid well. One time they let us children sit upon those tall fences and watch them shear the sheep. How sorry I felt for those sheep. They looked so skinned.
Father’s farm was way up in Casto Canyon. Sometimes, in the summer, Father would run the Haywood ranch too, and milk their cows. Mother would always make cheese in the summer. Father made mother a special cheese knife to help her cut the curd. The cheese curd was put in molds to press. They had to be turned in the evening. One evening when Mother went to turn them she saw a mouse. She jumped on a bench and squealed, “John, there is a mouse on the cheese.” Whenever anyone wanted to tease mother they would shout, “John, there is a mouse on the cheese,” in that same high pitched voice. It was our call for help.” (Written by LaVern)
My mother Ruth, who was six when John died, wrote: My memories of my father are very few. I remember the summer before he died that he got his eye injured by a horse switching its tail, and a horse hair cutting the eye ball. I remember him sitting on a chair in the front yard, mother examining it and I still shudder at the memory of her voice when she half sobbed, “Oh, John, the eye ball is cut!”
Ruth’s sister LaVern wrote about this also:
In the summer of 1914 Father was working in the timbers. A sliver got into his eye, and later a horse switched his tail and a long hair cut through Father’s eye again. These accidents caused him to go blind in that eye. The suffering from this brought on Bright’s Disease. I remember him laying on “the little bed”, as we called a single one placed in front of a window, and reading to mother from the Book of Mormon while she worked. He died the 26th of October 1914, after problems which developed over several months from the infection which started in his eye. Today antibiotics would make that better in just a few days. He was only 56 years old.
My father was not one to be in the limelight publicly. If he held any Church leadership positions I haven’t heard of them. He was a quiet unassuming man, and a hard worker. I’m sure he had deep religious convictions and lived rather than preached the principles of the Gospel. After father’s death I don’t remember mother talking about him much. I used to think maybe she didn’t care. Now with maturity I realize she looked to and lived in the future, rather than grieve of the past, for the very purpose of giving her family strength and determination to face life. What a good example they both gave us. Eternity with them is worth working for.
He left Mother with 8 children, Vina, the oldest, was just 19 and Earl 17, Adelia the youngest was only one year old and 6 days. The first steps she took was to walk across the floor to Father’s casket.
When Father had died, Mother called us children to her and told us that we must be very brave, for we would have to go on and reach the high ideals they had planned for us, without his help. Mother never broke down and cried at this time. Mother was the nucleus, courage, and strength that kept our family going. Never do I remember a cross word in our home. Mother said, “If you cannot win with love, you cannot win.” She kept the family together with one arm around us all, the other she placed in the hand of our Heavenly Father, and faith and prayer were her guides through life.
Father’s passing threw a heavy load of responsibility on the young shoulders of Earl and George. They assumed the responsibility of running the farm and taking care of Mother and us younger children. Never did a family cling together, and work for, and love each other, as this family did. Faith and prayers pulled them through.
Some of my mother Ruth's poems are about her mother and father. You have probably read them in blog # 95. They were a very close and loving family!
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