Andrew Hunter Scott

Builder in the Kingdom

Browsing Posts published by Cathy

The year 1889 brought a new baby to the family of William Joseph and Abby Jane Scott Taylor, but William was not there at the birth of his third son because he was serving a mission for the LDS Church.  The baby was christened Joseph Hiram Taylor.  At that time the family lived at 600 West and 100 South, across the street from the Pioneer Park in Provo.  Later the family moved to Vineyard and eventually to Lake View, what became the Cherry Hill Dairy Farm.

Joe grew to boyhood and saw seven more children born to the family.  He put long hours on the farm and he used to kid about how long it took him to get through the ninth grade, because in the fall there was the harvest, and in the spring there was planting, so he could not get a full year in at school.

The family owned a fine buggy and Joe seemed to be in demand with the girls when he could drive them in the buggy to Saratoga or Geneva for an outing.  But he stayed a bachelor until he was almost 28 years old.  And then the girl he had been waiting for came along.  He always said that he had waited for her to grow up.  On Dec 12, 1917, Joseph Hiram Taylor and Norma Tuckett were married in the Salt Lake Temple.

The couple rented a house in Lake View, but Joe spent much of his time at a dry farm in Millard County.  The next November a baby boy was born to the couple.  Two years later in 1920, the month of August welcomed a second baby boy who had the same red hair as his father.

In 1924 the family moved to 751 West 100 South in Provo, and a few weeks later on May 6th a girl was born.  Joe was now a milkman for the Cherry Hill Dairy which was only a few blocks away.  He drove a milk wagon and delivered milk to the doorsteps.  Even after he left the dairy and went to work for the Metropolitan Life Insurance Company, he still went morning and night to feed the horses for the dairy.  In 1927 another baby girl was born, and Joe now began to work for the insurance Company and continued until the depression year of 1932.  That year he and Norma made many trips to Salt Lake City to look for work.  A dealership with the Watkins Company seemed good to Joe, and he became the “Watkins” man.   He had this job until Aunt Della took over this route at the time of his death.

Hollis reports:

“I remember how he used to settle back in his chair after dinner to read the paper and, I suspect, catch a short nap.  I recall his gold watch hanging on the nail between the double windows looking onto the porch…Later when Pink and I had learned to drive, Dad would come home early on Saturday afternoons and announce ‘I’ll get the ice cream going if you guys will get the ice.’  He knew we’d jump at any chance to drive the old Durant.  He’d give us a quarter (which bought a 25 lbs. block) and we’d drive to the icehouse down along the RR tracks.  This would take place intermittently all summer.

“The ice cream treat was punctuated by Dad having put a watermelon in the well water there by the back porch on Friday evening and announcing Saturday night that the melon was cold.  These events were many and included the usual neighborhood gang.

“Quite early when Dad had the night Cherry Hill Dairy delivery, I would go on the route with him.  He had the two-horse team who’d clatter down the center of the neighborhood streets during the wee hours.  He’d take the milk—six quart bottles in a carrier—plus butter and cottage cheese to the various houses.  Either the load was too heavy or I was too small to be of much help.  The most vivid memory I have was back at the dairy after the delivery was done.  There we’d select a bottle of milk from one of the cases sitting on the concrete floor with a cold stream of water running through it.  Man, that cold milk tasted good!  Sometimes it would be a giant cup full of buttermilk fresh from the churn.

“Really early in my life, while we were still living on the Cherry Hill farm, I remember Dad had arranged for delivery of a brand new Model T Ford.  The man from the garage drove it out and parked it in the shade of a big weeping willow tree in the front yard.   Boy it smelled so new we pestered Mom to go for a ride, but she didn’t know how to drive, so we had to wait until Dad came home.

“All of us remember when we used to turn on the Majestic radio in the living room and let Bus (our dog) come in the house, then we’d listen so intently for the sound of Dad’s car.  We’d hurry and usher Bus out and turn off the radio….Dad assigned me the job of keeping the wood box (on the back porch near the kitchen door) and the two coal buckets full.  I spent half of the summer chopping wood for winter.  I stacked it in the bins in the coal shed.”

Joe was active in the Second Ward of Provo.  He was chorister for over 14 years.  His choir was invited to sing in many of the other wards, and we thought that he had the best choir in the city.  There was hardly a week that went by that someone didn’t come to the house to ask Joe if he would sing at the funeral of a loved one.

After Uncle Golden moved into the house through the block, they decided to revive the quartet that they had sung in many years before.  Uncle August and Joe Ahlander made up the foursome.  About this time Joe began to feel his health failing and felt that they should take life a little easier, and they decided to buy a house in Orem that was cut away from the noise of the city and close neighbors.  But this didn’t last long, because the orchards were cut to make room for more houses.  They had lived in the house less than four years when Joe became very ill and spent much time in the hospital or in bed.  How he looked forward to the visit of Uncle Scott who came to shave him whenever he could make it.  He did find a time when he felt well enough to travel with Aunt Mary to Boise to see their children who were living there.  On November 11, 1952, Joe felt better than he had in a long time and decided he could go to work.  He spent the morning visiting his customers in Mapleton and at noon he went to Hooley’s Café for lunch.  It was there he suffered a fatal heart attack.

He was buried on November 14th at the Provo cemetery.  How true the words spoken by a close neighbor of Joe’s at his funeral when he said that it was not just a man who had gone, but a way of life.

Written by Normalind Taylor Smith

Abby Jane Scott Taylor with her infant son, Joseph.

Abby Jane Scott Taylor was a true representative of the womanhood of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Born in 1864, she was the eighth of the 11 children of those splendid pioneers, Andrew Hunter and Sarah Ann Roe Scott who came across the plains from Philadelphia in the 1851 company with 133 other saints.

Abby Jane was born at Provo on January 30, 1864, on what was known as the Scott Farm, a vast tract of land planted mostly with various kinds of fruit trees, especially apples. The nursery stock and seeds were brought from Council Bluffs, Iowa, by her father. Her earliest recollections were of the task of assisting with the younger children, and in the harvesting of the immense fruit crop. This also included drying of apples and peaches which were taken to Salt Lake and exchanged for household necessities. Grandmother Roe proved a great benefactress to Salt Lake City where she carried the dried fruit on her back where she was employed at the home of Porter Rockwell, famous Indian scout and interpreter. She brought back tea at a dollar a pound, also sugar and flour. On one of her return trips across Provo Bench she was confronted with the much feared Indian chief “Squash Head”. She walked fearlessly on and was not molested.

Much of the recreation of the early days came from the peach cuttings where the neighbors around would gather and assist each other.

Abby’s father will always be remembered for having planted the first nursery in this part of the country. An interesting incident is told of her sister, Ann, whom a certain man in the ward wanted for his plural wife. He came one day for a dozen young fruit trees, tying strings on the straight ones he had selected. He went home with the assurance that his trees would be delivered. Father Scott told the boys to dig up the trees with strings on. In the meantime, mischievous Ann, without telling, changed the strings to the most crooked trees which were dug up and delivered.

The first summer the apple trees bore fruit, Grandfather Scott gave each of his daughters who had saved a cup full of apple seeds a grey linen dress of which they were each very proud.

Abby was baptized a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints on September 3, 1875, by Elder George Thatcher. The baptism took place in the Main Ditch stream on 500 West Street, just below the Old Pace corner.
At the age of ten years, Abby lost her father in death. In a few notes she wrote of her life, she tells of the dress she wore at her father’s funeral. It was strips of home woven cloth which they called waterproof. It was rightly named for when they put it on her she sat down and cried because it was so ugly.

After her father’s death, she lived with her sister Ann and brother Frank, assisting with their young, growing families. At the age of 15 she went with her brother, Andrew and others, to do the cooking for them during the construction of the Denver and Rio Grande narrow gauge line from Salt Lake City up through Parleys Canyon to Park City, on up to Coalville and Wanship. After the completion of that line, her brother Andrew got the contract to construct another railroad line south through Sevier County. She went along on this to help with cooking and the young family.
At the age of 17 she went to work for Zina Young Williams, daughter of Brigham Young who had come to Provo to teach Domestic Science in the Brigham Young Academy, and here she became intimately acquainted with Aunt Percinda Kimball, wife of Heber C. Kimball. It was at the Kimball home in Salt Lake where she was a guest at the time of her marriage to William Joseph Taylor on August 3, 1882, in the Endowment House, the ceremony being performed by Elder Daniel H Wells.

Joe and Abby's first home at 1st West and 2nd in Provo.

Three years after her marriage, she and her husband, with a five week-old baby, went up to the Charcoal Coal Kiln in Spanish Fork Canyon with a number of her brothers and their families. They lived there until after the birth of their third child, Scott Andrew, when they returned to Provo. Her husband, Joseph had received a call for a mission to the Southern States. With three small children upon her hands, her father dead, her husband’s mother a widow, Abby wondered how it could be accomplished, but with faith and her indomitable courage, she went bravely to the tasks which confronted her. At the farewell social, which was held before father’s departure, James H. Loveless, who was Bishop at that time, promised father that he would return home to find his family all well and strong.
Shortly after his departure, the chills and fever broke out among many of the young children. Scott, then 15 months old, contracted this disease and fell away to almost skin and bones. All summer they carefully nursed him and with the efficient help of Aunt Teenie Sorensen, who came as a friend in need, he recovered. The following January, Joseph Hyrum, the fourth child was born. Almost before mother had regained her strength, her eldest son, William Weldon, came down with typhoid fever. She thought surely Satan and all his hosts were seeking to thwart the promise of Bishop Loveless. For weeks it seemed an impossibility that William would recover. As they had not the modern means of combating this dreaded disease at the time, his recovery was problematical. After eight weeks she almost gave up in despair when Abram Halliday came to the house to administer to the sick child. On his way home he met Bishop Loveless who inquired if there was any change. Brother Halliday said, “No, it is impossible for the child to linger much longer.” Bishop Lovelace, being a man of great faith, replied, “Come back with me. We will administer to that boy and he will live. I promised Joseph that he would come home and find his family well and strong.” They went back and laid their hands upon the child and rebuked the hand of the destroyer. William immediately began to mend and was soon well and strong. It was indeed a testimony to the family of the goodness of the Lord.

Other clouds soon came to darken their lives. Abby Jane became very ill with erysipelas, which necessitated a lot of careful nursing. She partly regained her health when the newspapers came out with the big headlines – “Mormon Elders Strung Up by the Thumbs”. It gave the name of Elder Taylor as one of the victims which later proved to be erroneous. Elders Parry and Gibbs were murdered and a number of the other Elders were tarred and feathered. This was the incident where B.H. Roberts disguised himself as a tramp, went by night and secured the bodies of the murdered missionaries to return them to their families in Utah.

Many other hardships were encountered by Abby before the return of her husband. Before the advent of coal their only fuel was wood, of which she chopped so much that her wedding ring was worn entirely through on the back. All summer she would take her four children early in the morning and help her mother’s family by harvesting the fruit crop upon the farm.

She related that upon one occasion that she was almost without groceries of any kind in the house when a knock came at the door. She opened it and there stood Sister Ellen Halliday with a huge basket of food and groceries, the very things she needed most. How thankful she was! It seemed the Lord proved a father to the fatherless. Time went on and Joseph returned from his mission and fortunes turned better.

After Joseph returned home she was called to labor with Sister Elizabeth Brown as a Relief Society Teacher, her mother being the President. Grandmother Scott served in this capacity for 26 years. Abby and Joseph’s family gradually increased until the year 1904 when it was found that some sort of employment should be found for the six sons. The sturdy couple realized that a farm was by far the best plan. In February of that year they moved from their home in Provo to the Shadrack Holdaway Farm in Vineyard. A year or two later they moved to the George C. Scott farm in Lakeview where the possibilities of development seemed better.

From this home in Lakeview she sent two sons upon foreign missions. The first, Andrew Scott was called to labor in the Australian Mission, departing in 1909. Upon his return he had made a complete circuit of the world. A few months later another son, William Weldon was called to the same mission. In 1912 he left his wife and two small children to go unto the nations of the earth to proclaim the Gospel message. In the year 1914, Golden was called to the Northeastern States Mission where he spent two years in the state of Ohio.

The family home had become a dairy farm, and because of the huge orchard of cherry trees stretching to the south, it was called “Cherry Hill Dairy”.

Saturday, October 18, 1914, is a date which will always remain in the memory of those who sat around the big friendly table on that fateful night. Golden had dressed prior to going out for the evening; some of the others were still out in the milk house, while the rest of the family were enjoying their evening meal. They kept hearing odd noises coming from the west part of the house. At last, Joseph opened the door to be met with flames which had already consumed a huge portion of the house. The noises they had heard were the bricks falling from the chimney. Golden jumped on a horse and started north shouting, “Fire!” One of the other boys pedaled on his bicycle to the south, arousing those along the road. Upon the sand hill to the east, Lewis Olsen had seen the flames and he and a group came to help. All those men formed a bucket brigade to put out the fire. The men lifted the old coal range out with pumpkin pies still baking. The piano was moved with the bric-a-brac on the top remaining intact. Very little was left, but immediately the family began to salvage what they could from the fire.

For a number of years Abby’s health had been very poor, and it was decided to move to a smaller place where the world would not be quite so heavy and responsibilities so great. Consequently they acquired the Hans J. Zobell place.

At the outbreak of World War I in 1917, Abby was made supervisor of the Red Cross work in Lakeview Ward. In May of that year, her son Frank enlisted and was sent to France and spent time in Germany after the war. Abby said that each piece of clothing she made for the Red Cross she made especially for him.
Then came the terrible flu epidemic of 1918-19 and the strain of seeing so many of her kinsmen stricken proved too much. She was advised by her physician to go to California where she, Joseph, Della and Ruby spent the winter of 1918, returning in April of 1919. She was an expert swimmer and enjoyed the ocean at Long Beach very much.
The summer of 1928 she and Joseph had a very pleasant trip to Canada, visiting with their son Frank and his family. But everything that was done for her did nothing toward helping her regain her health. Much to her sorrow and discomfort she was unable to perform her household tasks, and after many years of untold suffering, she departed this life on February 27, 1931, leaving her husband and 11 children. She was 68 years and two months old. She had 46 grandchildren, and a wide circle of relatives and friends who mourned her loss.

Those who knew Abby Jane Scott Taylor before her illness will remember the vitality she possessed. They will remember the pride she took in her grandchildren. Many times a week she “hitched up” the horse and buggy and drove into town, even in bad weather. She was independent and unafraid. Some will remember the days spent with her at the old Spring Dell in Provo Canyon where she took a canvas topped board cabin each summer. It was a privilege of her granddaughters to stay with her when it was their turn.

Later she took cabins at Vivian Park. She liked to hike and all the trails and waterfalls above Spring Dell to the south were familiar to her. Grandchildren coming to her home were always sure to find plenty of things to do to keep them busy. She kept stacks of magazines containing “Dolly Dingle” paper dolls for the little girls to cut out, and some will remember the huge boxes of beads she kept in the roll top desk for the girls to thread. They loved to stay with her for she always had tales to tell about the early days of Utah valley. Her grandchildren will also remember the abalone shell she always kept on her dresser and the sea shell which produced the roaring of the ocean.

This biography was taken from “Joe and Abby, a Biographical History of the William Joseph Taylor, Junior Family” compiled by Maxine Taylor Bleak Hill and Eleanor Olson Pratt, published in 1984 by the family organization.

On August 9, 1921 twins, a boy and girl were born to Charles Richard and Lily Flayvillie Norton Scott in Pomerene, Arizona.  Beatrice, the girl was very quiet but Byrl, the boy cried strongly.  After four hours his spirit returned to Heavenly Father.  They were the fifth and sixth of seven children born to Charlie and Lily.  From that weak beginning, her life has been filled with volumes of experiences. 

Bea, as she was called, was reminded by her mother at an early age that she needed to accomplish enough in this life to make up for the life of her twin.  Her father died when she was five.  His dying wish was, “Bea, always be a good girl”.   These expressions from her parents were the incentive for the full and active life that she lived.  When she was 11, her mother married Lorenz Hortnagl and the family moved to Long Beach California. 

Bea always enjoyed singing.  A choir director, Mrs. Parsell, recognized the quality in her singing voice and made it possible for her to take voice lessons at age 13.  Her voice teachers included Joseph Ballentine and William King Driggs, father of the King Sisters.  She had the opportunity to sing in many places:  KTYL, Southwest Broadcasting System, KOMO Seattle, NW Broadcasting System and community productions.  One of the highlights of her singing career was learning in Japanese the part of Suzuki in Madame Butterfly with her dear Japanese opera star friend.

She married John (Jack) Lester Robins on 2 June 1941, her first love at 15 and the kind and loving companion of her dreams.  They were sealed for Time and All Eternity in the Mesa Arizona Temple on 12 May 1942.  Their common interest in music and genealogical research has helped them realize many more of the cherished hopes and dreams of life.

Bea and Jack were blessed with two daughters within the first 2 years of their marriage, and then Jack was drafted into the Army in 1945.  After the birth of their son, Jack was released from service in 1946.

Bea’s desire for education was realized in 1952 when she graduated with a Medical Assistant Certificate and worked as a lab technician for the City of Long Beach Health Department for 24 years, mainly testing dairy products and water.  She retired in 1976.

She served many years in many capacities in the LDS Church including genealogical researcher, Gospel Doctrine teacher, Los Angeles Temple worker, Relief Society President and served in many other callings in the Church.  She and Jack served a full time mission in the Billings Montana Mission.  Serving others, along with providing compassionate service, was a great joy to her.

In 1980 they moved from Long Beach and bought their home in Santa Clara.  They spent these years compiling 2 family history books, traveling to many countries of the world and spent many hours in the Family History Center teaching others to do their research.  Bea was an active and contributing member of the DUP for many years.  She was the genealogist for the Andrew Hunter Scott Family Organization while recording the ward history, compiling the ward directories and preparing the Sunday programs.  Bea faithfully fulfilled her responsibilities until two years ago when she became ill. 

At this time, she and Jack moved to Ridgeview Gardens Assisted Living Center where they have been cared for by many loving workers.  The family would like to thank these kind workers at Ridgeview and also the nurses at Rocky Mountain Hospice for the loving care they provided.

Early in the morning on May 29, 2011, Bea left her family here on Earth.  It is certain that she has been greeted on the other side by her parents, her twin brother, and many individuals for whom she did research and temple work. 

Bea is survived by her eternal companion of 70 years, Jack, her children Patricia (Vernon, deceased) Clark of Santa Clara, Cathy (Howard) Shaffer of St. George and Michael (Ruth) Robins of Ivins, 21 grandchildren, 75 great grandchildren, one great great granddaughter, a sister, Grace (Bill) Laing of Springville and a sister-in-law Fern (Charlie) Attaway of Seal Beach, California and numerous nieces, nephews and cousins.

She is preceded in death by her parents, brothers Glendon, Norton, Albert and Byrl, her sister Zelta, and one great grandson.

Funeral Services will be held Thursday, June 9, 2011 at 2 PM at the Santa Clara 6th Ward Chapel at 3815 West Rachel Drive, Santa Clara, under the direction of McMillan Mortuary, 435-688-8880.   Viewings for family and friends will be held on Wednesday evening 6-8 PM and Thursday 12:30-1:30 PM.  Both viewings will be at the Rachel Drive Chapel.

Burial will be in the Santa Clara Cemetery following the funeral service.

Abby Jane Weldon Roe, or Grandmother Humphreys as she was familiarly known, was born in Philadelphia, PA, November 7, 1809, the daughter of John and Esther Robinson Weldon.  In 1831, a year after the LDS Church was organized, she was married to George Humphreys Roe who had also been born in Philadelphia, PA, on February 6, 1793, the son of Mary Morris and Elias Humphreys Roe.

According to records, George Humphreys Roe had formerly been married to one Sarah Porch and to this couple was born six children, all having been born in the city of Philadelphia.  Records of Uncle Walter Scott state that Abby Jane Weldon had been married previously, probably to a man named Joseph Knight.

George Humphreys Roe was a carpenter and ship builder by trade and the home of this couple in the Friendly City was always an abiding place for the missionaries of the LDS Church, as they were among the first there to accept the message of the Gospel.  Jedidiah M. Grant made his home with them whenever he was in that part of the missions.  The Roes were baptized in the year 1843 and their earnest desire was to cross the plains and they made plans for their departure West, but before this could be accomplished, George died, leaving Abby Jane in poor circumstances financially, and with two small children, Sarah Ann and George Washington to raise.

Tragedy had stalked the family, for the couple had suffered the loss of seven children in death.  Very little had been known of this part of Abby Jane’s history so I quote from a letter written by Lois Wickers to Ramona F. Cottam concerning Grandmother Humphreys.  Mrs. Wickers wrote:  “I went to visit Aunt Francelle Sorensen, or Aunt Sis as we called her, and all this data about the seven babies she had lost, Aunt Sis told me.  The last mention of George Washington Roe was that he was in South America and that he probably died there, or he was there when they last heard of him.

My only proof of the fact is that Aunt Sis knew her and that this was the information that Grandma had told her.  Aunt Sis went in and got a little piece of writing paper on which was the record of the family written in pencil.  She said, ‘This is all I have’ and there it was some birth dates of her mother, father and some of their children.”  Only Sarah Ann and George Washington lived to maturity.

Undaunted, the widowed mother toiled night and day to gather enough money to outfit her family with a team of oxen and wagon for the purpose of emigrating to Utah.  This was the most terrific struggle for a lone woman.  Her son George did not come west with his mother and sister, but chose to stay and work as a ship builder in the Philadelphia shipyards, a trade he had learned from his father.

Before leaving Philadelphia, Abby Jane auctioned off a cupboard filled with lovely china.  Not wishing to part with all of it, she wrapped two beautiful pitchers in flannel petticoats and tucked them among her meager belongings which she brought to Utah with her.  These pitchers are delft blue with embossed white figures encircling the top and the bowl.  The mouths of the pitchers are finished in dull gold.  She gave them to her grand-daughter and namesake, Abby Jane Scott Taylor and upon her death.  They were given to a great-granddaughter, Mary Taylor Dahlquist who still had one pitcher in her possession.  It is now owned by Mary Dahlquist Gunn.  The other pitcher belongs to Marjorie Johnson Snow, who received it upon the death of her mother, another great-granddaughter, Ruth Taylor Johnson.

Nothing daunting her desire to join an emigrant train, she started alone with Sarah Ann who was then 18 years of age.  They drove their own ox team as far as the Missouri River where they became acquainted with a young man by the name of Andrew Hunter Scott who was also coming west with his two young sons George and Hyrum.  This young man was also from Pennsylvania.  His wife, upon finding that he had joined the LDS Church and intended coming to Zion, took her two young daughters, sold all they had and left him with the two young boys.  He was full of faith and courage but he never saw his daughters again, although as time went on, his wife wrote letters of remorse and asked his forgiveness, but she never came west.

When the Saints were camped on the river, a companionship developed between the two lonely families and it was here that Andrew Hunter Scott and Sarah Ann Roe were married on January 12, 1851 and as one family, again began the long trek west.  Many hardships were encountered:  sickness, hunger and death overtook them.  At one place cholera broke out and many of their number were buried at Sweetwater, Wyoming.

They arrived at the valley of the Great Salt Lake in 1851 where they started clearing sage brush for a home site.  Great-grandmother worked in the homes of many of the Church leaders, Heber C. Kimball, Orrin Porter Rockwell and others helping to maintain her family, but before a house was completed by her son-in-law, Andrew Hunter Scott, he was called by Brigham Young to go to Provo to superintend the building of the Provo Woolen Mills.  He labored long and hard to see the work move along.  I have often heard my mother tell of his remaining all night long with the men upon many occasions in order to see that all went right.  He had nothing to eat at these times but a pocketful of parched corn.  He took up a large tract of land in the southwest part of Provo Township and here they planted the first flax in Utah, also a vast orchard of fruit trees as well as mulberry trees for the raising of silk worms.

Abby Jane worked side by side with her son-in-law and helped in the erection of an adobe house.  Tragedy struck the little family when Hyrum, the younger of the two little boys took sick with fever and died.  A casket was made from the trunk of the tree and the father, Andrew Hunter Scott, carried the little corpse to the foothill for burial as water was rising on the lower lands.  Indian troubles confronted them, and many times they fed the Redman rather than have trouble with them.

Abby Jane continued her service and work in the homes of the Church leaders in Salt Lake City, going back and forth on foot many times, taking dried fruit in exchange for linsey, sugar and such things as were obtainable and were necessary for the family.  On one occasion as she was coming home from Salt Lake, she met Old Squash Head, an Indian Chief, on Provo Bench.  This old Indian was much feared by the people in the vicinity.  With him were two other braves and they stopped and drove their ponies across the narrow road to prevent her from passing.  She stopped, unafraid, shaking her fist in the face of the Indians and she thus passed them unmolested.  She knew no fear for at one time when living in the small adobe room on the Thomas Allen lot where she had a flock of turkeys, she was awakened one night by a disturbance among the turkeys, so she took a gun and went into the yard where she found a porcupine.  She killed it and went back to bed.

When the narrow gauge railroad was being built up through Echo Canyon to Coalville and Wanship, she went to cook for the construction crew.  Among the men who ate at her table was an expert woodsman and he made her a small box of very delicate workmanship.  She later gave it to Uncle Howard.

Death came to this noble pioneer on September 17, 1888.  Since the time she had left him in Philadelphia, she had never seen her son George Washington Roe.  There are two stories concerning him, both being very interesting.  The first as told by Lois Wickers states that he went to South America and probably ended his days there.  The other was told me by Uncle Howard Scott.  He stated that many anxious moments were spent by this pioneer mother wondering about her boy.  He said he remembered her receiving a clipping from a friend in Philadelphia which had been taken from a newspaper.  This clipping told of a group of shipbuilders who had entered Philadelphia harbor in order to repair a floundering ship.  Tragedy overtook this party and they were marooned from the mainland.  In order to survive, some of the group was forced to resort to cannibalism.  None survived.  George Washington Roe was reported to have been among these men.

Abby Jane Weldon Roe was a soul imbued with a colossal amount of faith, strength, determination and integrity to a great cause to which she had dedicated her life.

I am indebted to Uncle Howard Scott for the bit of information we have concerning this woman.  Just the day prior to the sickness which took speech from him, he had called me to impart this desired information, and I am sure had he been allowed more time, we would have known more about her.

Note:  This history was written by Mary Taylor Dahlquist, August 1952 and printed in the Andrew Hunter Scott Bulletin, Vol. 2, Issue 1, February 1968.

 What was it like for the pioneers to cross the plains?

Today as we travel down our modern freeways it is hard to imagine the hardships tht the pioneers endured as they traveled in their covered wagons.  As we enjoy our fine homes now, do we stop and think that our ancestors carried all of their earthly possessions in a wagon.  Perhaps we should take a moment and ponder on our great blessings and be grateful to our forbearers who helped settle the Provo area and made it “blossom as a rose”.

In Sarah Ann Roe Scott’s autobiography, she stated that “those that didn’t come to the mountains in those days do not know what it is like to travel over the plains in wagons drawn by oxen and pass only one house in 1000 miles and sometimes camp where there was no water for men or beast and no wood to make a fire.  But we traveled on our journey trusting in our Heavenly Father to preserve us to the end of our journey.”

Previous to this part of the journey Sarah Ann and Andrew Hunter traveled over a thousand miles from Philadelphia to Kanesville, Iowa, which took over a month, probably traveling by train and water part of the way.

Route of 1851

The route taken by Andrew, Sarah Ann, and Martha Ann to gather with the saints.

Sarah Ann states “April 3, 1850 bade farewell to the home of my birth (Philadelphia, Pennsylvania) and many dear connections and friends, and with my mother and brother and 133 Saints and the Presidency of Elders Jacob Gilson and Edson Whipple, all bound for Kanesville on the Missouri River (en route for Salt Lake City) where we all arrived May 14th in good health and spirits, rejoicing in our deliverance from Babylon.

“Circumstance compelled me to stay in Kanesville till the next spring.  In that winter, January 1851 I was married to Elder Andrew Hunter Scott of Bucks County, Pennsylvania, who came out in the same company that I came with.  Started out for the Valley of the Great Salt Lake in the spring of 1851 in Captain Morris Phelps Company, as the Elk Horn river was very high and getting late in the season the captain concluded to head the horn which was a tedious journey as only one company had started that way….

“Crossed the mountains into the Salt Lake Valley on my nineteenth birthday, September 26, 1851.  Stopped n Salt Lake City that winter, lived in our wagon till the latter part of November.”  Sarah Ann does not mention the fact that she was expecting her first child, which must have made the journey much harder.  Her son, Franklin, was born 1 December in the 9th Ward.

The only thing Andrew Hunter Scott wrote about the journey was recorded in his journal:  “Ready to leave in the Spring of 1850…..took my two sons, George and Hiram and left (Vincentown, New Jersey) for Philadelphia.  There I made preparations and in three or four weeks (I think it was April 3rd 1850).  I set sail in company with Elder J. Gilson and E. Whipple and 133 Saints from Philadelphia all bound for Kanesville on the Missouri River (en route for the Salt Lake Valley), where we all arrived May 14th in good health and spirits.  Rejoicing in our deliverance from Babylon or nearby—at this place the company separated, some fitting up for the valley to cross the plains, others purchasing farms to remain in Kanesville for the want of means to gather to the valleys.

“By this time my means was so far reduced that I was forced to stop in Kanesville until I could regroup a little.  I bought a farm of woods with house and other improvements of Mr. Solon Foster for 75 dollars.  Farms were cheap here at that time.

“I then purchased one yoke of young cattle 3 years old and a new wagon.  I got in Pittsburg, PA, on my way to this place and many other farming utensils—and went to farming upon my new farm.  I soon found myself quite handy for I had been raised a farmer.”  Andrew ends his journal here and does not resume writing until 11 July 1855, so he did not record his experiences while crossing the plains.

Coincidentally, Martha Ann Norton crossed the plains at the same time as Andrew and his wife Sarah Ann.  Hollis Scott in his history of Martha Ann, recently published in the book Sarah Ann’s Legacy Letters, stated that Martha Ann’s parents joined the LDS Church in 1840 in Shelby County, Tennessee and later the family moved to Tippah County, Mississippi, in order to be with other members of the Church.  In 1846 they moved to Nauvoo, Illinois.  Because of all of the violence and problems in Nauvoo the family moved to Lee County, Iowa.  It was here that Martha’s mother, Dorothy, died in childbirth in 1846.  The baby died shortly afterwards.  Then John Warren Norton, Martha’s father, moved his family to Mt. Pisgah, Iowa.  There he married a young widow, Martha Ann Covington.  Three children were born to them, but only one grew to maturity.  At Mt. Pisgah John Warren arranged for the children of his first wife, William David, Jacob Wesley, Caroline Chloe, Isaac, John Alfred, and Martha Ann, to live with other families.  They crossed the plains with the John Brown wagon train.  Martha Ann was ten years old and turned eleven on the day they arrived in the Valley.

The Morris Phelps Company and the John Brown Company and the John Brown Company crossed paths several times during the journey.  Since neither Andrew, Sarah Ann, or Martha Ann kept a journal telling of personal travels, we have to rely on others who journeyed in the same company to provide more information as to what it was like to cross the plains.

In the Daughters of Utah Pioneers book An Enduring Legacy, Volume 10, pages 193-240, Jean Rio Griffiths Baker gives quite a detailed account of the journey in her journal.  She was of French ancestry and lived in England, married but widowed when her husband died.  She left England in 1851 with her six sons and daughter and a daughter-in-law, arriving at New Orleans in March, 1851.  From there she traveled to Kanesville and joined the John Brown Company, of which the Nortons were members.  Excerpts that pertain to our ancestors are printed below:

July2, 1851.  Arrived at Kanesville.  Quite a pretty town and the surrounding scenery very beautiful…

July 5, 1851.  We stayed two days in Kanesville where I purchased some more provisions.  Met with some pleasant people and this morning recommenced our journey; crossed over the Missouri bottom, four miles wide, the whole distance under water caused by the late heavy rains.  Most of the distance the water was running over the axles of the wagons; however, we came out on high ground in the midst of the wood, were ferried over in safety and came up to the main camp at twelve p.m.

July 6, 1851.  Mr. John Brown was appointed captain of the whole.  We mustered forty-two wagons, with four other of the brethren to take charge of ten wagons each, subject to the orders of Mr. Brown.

July 7, 1851.  Came to the Elkhorn and encamped…We are now in the country of the Omahas.

July 8, 1851.  Ferried over the Elkhorn in safety…Encamped on the bottom which, I am told, was under water two weeks ago, making the river four miles in width.

July 9, 1851.  Crossed Elkhorn bottom; very hard days’ travel; plenty of chains broken.  Encamped by the side of the Platte River where we found an Indian grave…

July 16-17, 1851. Very hard traveling, with deep ravines to cross and a very bad swamp, then a wide creek with a very steep hill to finish with.  Encamped on the high ground; violent thunderstorm with rain during nearly the whole night…

July 22, 1851.  Bad sandy road.  We saw a number of frogs, hares, doves and the skull of an elk with a message written on it with pencil, informing us that the Indians were on the lookout for opportunities to steal the cattle from the passing emigrants.

July 24, 1851.  The hottest day we have had; crossed fourteen miles of prairie, then came to the side of a wood when we were met by a hot wind.  One of my finest oxen fell down and died in a few minutes…

July 29, 1851.  Met three wagons, one of them from Salt Lake…They reported that three companies of fifties are eight days ahead of us and that we are still ahead of Elder Pratt’s company, which left Kanesville two weeks before we did, and in consequence of the high water, went around the Elkhorn instead of fording it, making the journey 150 miles longer…Orson Hyde, who went on alone, they tell us has overtaken those ahead of us, but had been previously stopped by Indians and robbed of nearly everything he had.

July 30, 1851.  Much bothered by buffalo, which are very numerous.  Stragglers are apt to run in among our cattle, terrifying them very much, and it has been all the horsemen can do to prevent their doing mischief when we are encamping for the night.  We saw another company of 115 wagons about a mile before us; they had endeavored to head the [Elk]Horn, but found it impracticable, so crossed higher up than we did.  They have come 460 miles, have had a very trying journey and have had their cattle stampeded by Indians and lost sixteen head of them.  Sister Kingsby, who was among them, was run over and killed.  They are under Elder Phelps.

August 2, 1851.  Passed Elder Phelps’ company and came to a small creek in safety, making one hundred miles since Monday morning…the country wild and romantic…

August 6, 1851.  Met a company of returning Californians.  They had passed through Salt Lake City where the people were just finishing their harvesting, which had been abundant…

August 9, 1851.  Phelps’ company overtook us, all well.  We afterwards passed them.  Saw Chimney Rock.  I clambered to the top of a bluff in order to get a view of the country.  The scenery grand; we encamped early…

August 15, 1851.  Indians with us all day; very fine looking fellows and very gaily attired.  The dresses of the women, some of them, nearly covered with bead work.  They came to camp with us and stayed till dusk.

August 16, 1851.  Some cattle strayed during the night and were not found till noon.  I purchased four fine hams at the trading post, also a yoke of oxen for which I paid sixty-five dollars…

August 18, 1851.  A very hard road all day; crossed some mountains but the view from the top no pen can describe.  We managed to get twenty miles but it was hard work; did not get to camp until eleven o’clock…Loads of berries and currants.

August 21, 1851.  Horrible roads.  Crossed the Platte twice; encamped along with the Phelps company by the riverside…

August 28, 1851.  Captain Brown passed the word for all wagons to keep as close as possible as there were Indians in the vicinity.  On looking forward I saw a little army of them about a mile distant, coming down the side of the mountain.  Our men at once loaded their guns so as to be in readiness in case of an attack, but on our approaching the Indians, they opened their ranks and we passed along without any trouble.  The government agent was with them in a buggy, and sitting between his knees was the daughter of the chief, a pretty little creature of about three years old who seemed to be quite pleased at our appearance.  The agent told us that they were some of the Shoshones and that three thousand more encamped on the banks of the Sweetwater twenty miles from us; that those present were ninety of the principal warriors, with their families, going to a great council of various tribes to endeavor to settle their differences and bury the tomahawk.  They made a grand appearance, all on horseback and very gaily dressed, some with lances, others with guns or bows and arrow, also a number of ponies carrying their tents.  The men passed on one side of us, the women and children on the other, but all of them well mounted.  Their clothing was beautifully trimmed with small beads.  Altogether it was quite an imposing procession.  After leaving them, our road was among mountains till we came to camp.

August 29, 1851.  We are now among the Rocky Mountains…The scenery is grand and terrible.  I have walked under overhanging rocks which seemed only to need the pressure of a finger to send them down headlong; many of them resemble the ruins of old castles and it needs but a little stretch of the imagination to fancy yourself in the deserted hall of a palace or temple.  There seems to be much metal among the rocks.  I picked up some specimens which I am told are silver and iron ore; also some lumps of coal which burn brightly.  Our road is so steep that it seems like we are almost going down a staircase…

September 8, 1851.  Met the mail from Salt Lake.  With it was Dr. Bernhisel, the Utah delegate.  All the news he brought was of a cheering kind.  Traveled on till noon and halted for the rest of the day on some very good grass; very pretty scenery.

September 10, 1851.  Remained in camp all day…One of Brother Norton’s daughters had her leg broken by a kick from a cow while milking.  Her father set the bone and she seems to be doing well, no inflammation having appeared…Two other men overtook us today, having six mules; they are from Laramie and tell us that there are a thousand lodges round about the Fort and many more expected.  They seem to be apprehensive that there is trouble brewing, also that two Shoshones had been killed by a party of Cheyennes, that the Shoshones had in return slaughtered twenty-seven out of thirty Cheyennes they had fallen in with on their way to the great council of the tribes.  Poor prospect, this, of peace among them, as those thirty were actually delegates from their own people.  The atmosphere is much warmer since we crossed the mountain ridge.

September 11, 1851.  Pretty good traveling all day except the scarcity of grass.  Encamped on Pacific Creek.  The wolves very troublesome all night with their howling, which was accompanied by the barking of all the dogs in camp…

September 14, 1851.  Sunday.  Lovely morning!…Three wagons from Salt Lake came up to us; they had brought out provisions, but to my chagrin had sold all they had to the companies ahead of us, and were then going to meet those in the read in order to see if they needed any assistance.  They also told us that there were some wagons laden with flour to meet us, so we hope to see them in a day or two…

September 15, 1851.  ….We encamped in a grove of timber on the banks of this beautiful stream, which seemed like paradise after the long stretch of desert country through which we have been traveling for the last four weeks.  While we were eating supper, a stranger visited us.  He told us he was a servant at a trading post two miles off and come to inquire if we wanted any cattle or provisions…purchased us some bacon, which we found of very good quality.  The trader told them that he had lived among the Indians fifteen years and had not visited the States for ten years.  His habitation was surrounded by the Indian huts belonging to the Snakes, who had among them four of the Utah squaws who had been taken prisoners when children and adopted into the tribe.  Each of the white men (four in number) had an Indian wife and each their own habitation, several hundred head of cattle and 150 horses and seemed to be very happy in their wilderness way of life.

September 16, 1851.  This morning three of the Indian women paid us a visit, remaining with us until we started; we came almost at once on a sandy, barren road which extended for fifteen miles; all streams were dry and we traveled along the bed of one for some distance, the banks of which were very high and steep…It was dusk before we arrived at a camping ground, and both men and cattle were much fatigued.

September 19, 1851.  Arrived at Ft. Bridger and to my great joy I was able to purchase forty pounds of very fine fresh beef…I got three pounds of potatoes, for which I paid fifty cents…

September 20-21, 1851.  Very romantic scenery all day, mostly ascending until we arrived at the rim of the Great Basin, where we encamped, the feed being very good…Obliged to travel for want of water, the scenery is sublime, our road being between ad around high mountains.  We passed over one so long and steep as to make it very hard on the oxen.  We had ten yoke to each wagon.  On descending we came to the Bear River…

September 25, 1851.  The country for the last three days had been beyond description for wilderness and beauty; we are indeed among the everlasting hills.

September 26, 1851.  We had this day a view of Salt Lake Valley from the summit of a mountain 7,245 feet above the level of the sea.  Here we were met by several men and teams ready to assist those who needed help…When I arrived at the base of the mountains, I turned to look at the coming wagons and was actually terrified to see them rushing down, though both wheels were locked, but no accident occurred and we are now at the entrance of a narrow gorge between rocks measuring eight hundred feet high, with a serpentine stream running through it, which we shall had to cross nineteen times.

September 28, 1851.  Of all the splendid scenery and awful roads that have ever been since creation.  I think this day’s journey has beaten them all.  We had encamped last night at the foot of a mountain which we had to ascend this morning.  This was hard enough on our poor worn-out animals, but the road after was completely covered with stones, stumps of trees, with her and there mud holes in which our poor oxen sank to the knees…One of my own teams was forced down a decline with such rapidity that one of the oxen fell into the stream and was drowned before it could be extricated.  This makes six oxen I have lost on the journey…The mountains on each side of us seem to be solid rock, but in the crevices of their sides trees are growing in abundance and the tops covered with groves of splendid fir trees.  In some places large pieces of rock have been detached, and have rolled down the mountainside, many of them as large as a small house…The grandeur of the scenery, to my mind, takes away all fear, and while standing in admiration of the view…I seemed to forget all the hardships of our long journey!…We picked our way as well as we could and at about sunset we emerged from the canyon and caught a faint view of our destined home…Thank God, however, it is over now and they tell us that five miles tomorrow will bring us to Salt Lake City and that after crossing the hill at whose base we are now resting, we shall have a road as smooth as a bowling green.

September 29, 1851.  Arose this morning with a thankful heart that our travels were nearly finished…I ascended the hill before us and had my first view of the City, which is laid out in squares or blocks, as they call them here, each containing ten acres and divided into eight lots, each lot having one house.  I stood and looked; I can hardly analyze my feelings, but think my prevailing ones were joy and gratitude for the protecting care over me and mine during our long and perilous journey.

Perhaps Andrew, Sarah Ann and Martha Ann experienced some of the same trials that happened to the author of this journal.  But even through all the hardships there were things of beauty to behold along their long journey.

After their stay in Salt Lake for the first winter in the valley, Andrew, Sarah Ann, her mother Abby Jane, George, Hiram and baby Franklin settled in Provo in March of 1852.

Martha Ann was hired out to Morris Phelps to help his wives and children in Mountainville, whose name was later changed to Alpine.

In church records it has been estimated that about five thousand immigrants crossed the plains and mountains from the Missouri River to Great Salt Lake City in 1851.  The population of the Utah territory was around 30,000 that year.

How grateful we are to be sons and daughters of these brave Utah pioneers who had a part in this historical event.

As part of the Utah Centennial Celebration an article appeared in the Daily Herald, January 20, 1996 discussing the existence of “monsters” in the Utah Lake.  The article was written by D. Robert Carter, a local historian and featured an ancestor George C. Scott, son of Sarah Sleeper and Andrew Hunter Scott.

The article discusses how Indians believed in “water babies”.  “Most accounts agree that the Water Beings had long, black hair and cried like babies.  Their task was to lure people into the water or swallow them and carry them into the depths.  The lake or stream then became the victims’ home.”  The early pioneers, many of whom came from England and Denmark, were told about the Water Babies; but putting a different twist on the story, found it easier to believe in the familiar dragons, kraken and sea monsters of their homeland.

The article discusses man sightings on Utah Lake one included “the most detailed report of a sighting” made by George C. Scott when he was 8 years old.  “In June of 1880, both the (Deseret Evening) News and the (Utah County) Enquirer reported a monster sighting.  Two truthful and intelligent young boys, Willie Roberts and George Scott, were taking a spring bath in Utah Lake near Provo.  The boys had swum out a fair distance when they noticed something that looked like a dog or a beaver swimming toward them.  They didn’t pay much attention to the animal until they heard a lion-like roar.

“Looking up, they saw a strange animal approaching them ‘occasionally raising itself out of the water and showing its four legs which were as long as a man’s arm’.  The animal’s head appeared to be 2 or 3 feet long and its mouth, which looked like that of an alligator, looked 18 inches wide.

“The frightened boys swam toward shore as quickly as they could, and the strange animal followed making ‘savage gestures’.  When they finally reached land, they turned and saw that the animal was only a few yards from shore.  Not waiting to see if the creature could travel on land as well as it did in water, the two friends hurried home to tell their parents of the experience.

“The terror-stricken manner in which the boys told their story convinced their parents and neighbors that the animal the boys had seen was a monster or something equally frightful.”

An article appeared by D.T. LeBaron of Springlake which seemed for the time to debunk the boy’s story, but the author notes that people were “probably privately debating the pros and cons of monster life in Utah Lake for many more years, however”.  He also includes a warning at the end of his article.  “For more than 70 years now, nothing further has been reported on the status of the monster.  However, future water skiers may want to keep a sharp watch for the missing kraken”.

Note:  Thanks to Philip Sabey for sharing this fun and interesting article.  Local resident may want to watch for this water monster sighted by such a credible witness and report any findings to this website.  The Andrew Hunter Scott Bulletin, No. 59, Winter-Spring 1996

Lois Dorothy Scott, a daughter of Andrew Hunter Scott and Martha Ann Norton, probably lived a lonely life separated from many of those dearest to her, in the last 18 years of her life.  She first married Alma (Almy) Job Waters on February 15, 1883.  Almy worked as a miner in the mines above Salt Lake, and together they had 3 daughters:  Mary Ann, Sarah Ann and Maude Mable.  Almy was killed in a smelter\mining accident in Murray on 6 July 1887.  Due to his death and the harsh economic conditions that befell the little family, Lois found it almost impossible to care for her three daughters and for herself.  It was difficult in those days for a woman to make a living, and so she found it necessary to give her two eldest daughters to relatives and she moved into Salt Lake City to find work.  From Salt Lake she moved to the mining town of Butte, Montana, taking Maude with her.  She married Albert J. Shepard on 2 May 1889.

Mr. Shepard, who was a judge at Meaderville, Montana, adopted Maude.  He later passed away and Lois married again to William McCoy on 21 March 1903.  While at Butte, Dorothy, with the help of Maude, operated a boarding house.

Mary, age eight, went to live with her Uncle Jim Scott in Provo and when he moved his family to California, she went with them and resided with them until 1899.

Sarah, age six, went to live with her Grandmother Waters and eventually moved with that family to Wilford, Idaho, where she remained until she was married.  As the years passed, contact between Lois and Maude was very rare.  Mary and Sarah, however, remained close through the years even though they grew up so far apart, perhaps because they were both with their Waters relations and would see one another at family reunions.  Sarah was Mary’s bridesmaid when she married Frank Knowlden.

In 1905, Maude’s mother, Lois, passed away at the age of 45 years.  Maude wrote several letters to her older sisters to let them know of this sorrowful event.  On 18 May 1905, Maude married John Dominick Brackett in Butte and they had three children:  Lois Josephine, Bernice Montana and Floyd Albert.  As the years passed, Maude lost all contact with Mary and Sarah and they lost contact with her.  In 1938, Maude’s husband, John Brackett, died in Butte.

On 29 September 1954, Mary passed away in Baldwin Park, California.  Sarah, accompanied by her son Herman Hammon and several other family members, made the trip to California for the funeral.  After the funeral, as the family got together, someone came across the old 1905 letter from Maude (cited below).  No one had heard from her for nearly 40 years, nor knew anything about her, even if she was still alive.  Sarah brought a copy of that letter back to Idaho and gave it to her 15-year-old granddaughter, Barbara Hammon, who was interested in family history as one of her Gleaner projects.

A few years later, in May of 1961, Barbara decided to take it upon herself to try and find out more about the “missing” great-aunt Maude.  She and her mother, Delsie Hammon, made a trip to Butte specifically to try and find out some information.  They first made contact with a local funeral home, and the director took them to the Mount Moriah cemetery where several members of the Shepard family were buried.  They located Lois’ headstone and near it were two others with the name “Brackett” inscribed.  This was the first time they had heard of the surname, but they had a feeling that these people must be relations of Lois’ lost family.  A search through the city phone book resulted in finding a Mrs. Maude Brackett, who was a patient in a Butte nursing home.  They went to meet this lady and were anxiously surprised to learn that this was the “Aunt Maude” they were searching for.  At that time she was 78 years old and in poor health but alert enough to tell her life story and some things about her mother, Lois.  It was a marvelous visit.  Barbara and Delsie quickly returned to Idaho Falls and arranged for a time to take Sarah Ann Hammon, who was now 80 years old herself, and many members of the Hammon family up to Butte to visit and meet Maude and her family.

It was a special reunion between Maude and Sarah.  There were tears and there was joy when these two elderly sisters met for the first time in over 70 years.  Maude’s daughter, Bernice, and her family also came over from Bozeman to meet their Idaho relations.  Maude’s son, Floyd, later made a special trip that summer to Idaho Falls to meet his Aunt Sarah.  These two families made an effort to reunite one with another.  Barbara often commented, when retelling this story, what a thrilling experience it was to meet family you had no idea you had, almost like what it must be like when we leave this life and are reunited with family on the other side of the veil.

Sarah was able to make several additional trips to Butte that fall and winter to visit her sister. Maude died on 11 April 1962 and Sarah passed away on 18 September 1963.  While they only had a short time to become reacquainted as sisters, it was a special time in the twilight months of their lives.

The following letter, edged in black and written by Maude to her sister Mary, was the key to reuniting a “missing” sister and set the stage for a rare and thrilling family union in 1961 for two sisters who had not seen one another for over 70 years.

Butte, Montana

Jan 15, 1905

My Dear Loving Sister Mary,

We received your most kind and sympathetic letter and was more than glad to hear from you so soon.  Well sister I am very sorry to loose our kind and loving Mother, who was so dear to us.  Especially myself as I have been with her the longest and know what a mother is.  It is going pretty hard with me.  As I have no relations here with me, but Mr. McCoy has been and will be a father to me.  That is one good thing, well Mary you asked me to tell you what was the matter with her.  She died with Brain Fever, she was only in bed one week and two days when she died.  Mother passed away Tuesday morning Jan. 10th, 1905, at eleven twenty and was buried Thursday Jan. 12th at two-thirty.  Well Mary I have not much news to tell you, as I feel very down hearted at present.  When I feel better I will write you a nice long letter.  I am very sorry that you are sick.  I only wish I could be down there with you now.  Well guess I will close with love to you all, from you loving sister,

Maude

Note:  We are indebted to Clark Hunter, family reporter of Idaho Falls, his late mother, Barbara Hunter and Bernice Maxson for the family history they collected over the years to make this rare life sketch of Maude Brackett available.  The Andrew Hunter Scott Bulletin, No. 59, Winter Spring 1996.