HOME OF SOREN JACOBSEN 2nd and WIFE ANNIE MINA CHRISTENSEN (MIKKELSDATTER)~~~From our archves

 

WHO WAS JAMES BURNS?

 

 

WHO WAS SHERIFF JAMES BURNS?

James Christopher Burns was the son of John and Lydia Ann Porter Burns. He was born in Linden-Rock Port, Atchison Missouri in September of 1849. His parents were headed for California in the Great Gold Rush of 1849.
At the place known as “the Last Crossing of the Sweetwater”, in the State of Wyoming, two-month old baby James Burns was found by a company of other travelers. He was lying at his mother’s breast. Both parents lay cold in the embrace of death. They had succumbed to the deadly disease of cholera. Deadly cholera is a very contagious disease. One brave soul from the company by the name of Milton Dailey risked his life to save the baby, if possible. The kind-hearted people of the wagon train did what they could for the baby, and they put forth efforts to find any relatives.

Arriving in Salt Lake City, they found the Saints gathering for conference, and Milton Dailey, gave the baby to Brigham Young who held him in his arms before the conference gathering, told of his parents tragic death and asked for information. The baby’s aunt, his mother’s sister, was among the saints and claimed the child.

He was then taken to the home of his grandmother at Provo, Utah. His early boyhood and manhood was spent in Mt. Pleasant, where he was educated and grew to the type of man that earned the love and respect of all who came in contact with him.

He fell in love with Matilda Josephine Anderson. It was thought by many to be “love at first sight”. James Burns often remarked that when he gazed into Matilda’s eyes of blue, he knew she was the one being in the world to make him happy. They were married on the 22nd March 1869.

After the Blackhawk War, he made friends with the red men, allowing his children to play with them, learn the Indian songs and dances, and many of their phrases.

James Burns prospered and progressed and became the Sheriff of Mt. Pleasant, and later served the people of Sanpete County in the same capacity.

Then on the 24th of September 1894, he received a telegraph notice from Scott Bruno, asking him to meet him in the morning at Moroni, as there had been a sheep stealing case.

The following is taken from the writings of Niels Heber Anderson:
‘Bill Brewer, Scott Bruno, Niels Heber Anderson and Sheriff James Burns confronted sheep rustlers at Reader’s Ridge back of the Horseshoe Mountain. Evidence of the changing of the ear marks and brands made it quite clear that certain sheep had been stolen.

Sheriff Burns made an attempt to place the rustlers under arrest without first disarming them. As he approached them, they shot and killed the sheriff, then warned the other men that if they did not stay out of the affair, they would receive the same treatment as had been given the sheriff.

Bill Brewer and Anderson brought the news to Spring City and Mt. Pleasant. Thomas Braby, with the Mt. Pleasant Militia, was soon on the scene of the shooting, and the body of James C. Burns was taken to Mt. Pleasant. Although the Militia searched and guarded for a couple of weeks in the ledges and dense timber, the murderers were never apprehended.
“James Burns’ life was short but some there are who do not have to live long to accomplish big things. He was killed in the performance of his duty.” Olivia Burns – daughter in law and author of James Burns History  

NIELS HEBER ANDERSON MEMORIES OF SHOOTING OF SHERIFF JAMES BURNS

 

 Niels Heber Anderson 

 Niels Heber Anderson 

 Father lived in a most exciting period of the earth's history. He drove oxen and lived to see automobiles and the airplane. 

Apparently some sheep stealing had been going on in Sanpete County. Bill Brewer of Mt. Pleasant, Scott Bruno and my father, Niels Heber Anderson, of Moroni, on the 26th day of November, 1894, in company with Sheriff James Burns, came upon Moan Kofford and Jim Mickle at Reader's Ridge, back of the Horse Shoe Mountain.

Evidence of the changing of the ear marks in sheep and brands made it quite clear that certain sheep had been stolen. Sheriff Burns made an attempt to place Moan Kofford and Jim Mickle under arrest without first disarming them. As he approached them they shot and killed the sheriff, then warned the other men that if they did not stay out of the affair they would receive the same treatment as had been given the sheriff.

Hilda Madsen Longsdorf, in her book entitled Mount Pleasant, recorded the incident as follows: "November 26, 1894, Sheriff James Burns, while attempting to place Moan Kofford and Jim Mickle under arrest for stealing sheep, was shot and killed by them, several shots entering his body. The shooting took place on Reader's Ridge, back of the Horse Shoe Mountains, also called Orson Hyde's Arm Chair, or the Bishop's Chair. Bill Brewer, Heber Anderson and Scott Bruno witnessed the shooting. Bill Brewer and Anderson brought the news to Spring City. Thomas Braby, with the militia of Mt. Pleasant, was soon on the scene of the shooting, and the body was taken to Mt. Pleasant.
 Although the Militia searched and guarded for a couple of weeks in the ledges and dense timber, the murderers were never apprehended." (Mount Pleasant, 1859-1930, Hilda Madsen Longsdorf, Stevens and Wallacis, Inc., Salt Lake City, Utah. p. 175)

Father was nervous about the threat Kofford and Mickle had given him and the two other men and shortly after the incident, purchased a "six shooter" which he carried for several years thereafter. He told me that he had decided to sell his life as dearly as possible if ever he met Kofford or Mickle and the occasion might require it.

 Many years after the shooting of Sheriff Burns took place, Father was asked to accompany the Sanpete County law officials into Idaho. A certain man, while drinking in a bar boasted of having killed Sheriff James Burns in Sanpete County, Utah. He claimed to be Moan Kofford. He was arrested and was being held in jail until the matter could be investigated. Bill Brewer and Scott Bruno were deceased and father was the only living witness to the shooting.

Father was well acquainted with Moan Kofford and as he entered the jail, he could hear a man singing and this was something he had never known Kofford to have ever done; but to be positive of his identification, he asked the man to walk down the hallway. As he did so, Father was positive that he was not Moan Kofford because Kofford had a peculiar gait as he walked.

 Father said that he had seen Moan Kofford only once after the shooting. Kofford was driving a freight wagon near Levan and as their eyes met, Kofford pulled his hat down so as to cover his face and at the same time put the whip to the team.

Sheriff James Burns  

MANTI TEMPLE ARTICLE ~~~ Taken from the Elva Guyman Collection

 

This is a repost.  We posted the photo of the Manti Temple above, but inadvertently missed the article. 

Some of the article was cut off when clipped out of the paper.

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF THE LIFE OF JACOB CHRISTENSEN ~~~ Taken from the History of Mountainville by Melba Shelley Hill

 

photos courtesy of Mt. Pleasant Relic Home

House Research  and photos by Tudy Standlee

HOME OF FRANCIS JENSEN AND WIFE NANCY JEMIMA DOTSON ~~~ Researched and Compiled by Tudy Barentsen Standlee ~~~ From our Archives

 

 

 

SKYLINE DRIVE, SNOW COLLEGE and MINIATURE GOLF ~~~ ALL AVAILABLE TO DO THIS SUMMER IN SANPETE

 

MOUNT PLEASANT PIONEER DAY 1985 ~~~ Taken from Louise Johansen's ScrapBook

 

DESERET ALPHABET

 

With permission of David R. Gunderson, we include the following book to our blog.   I will do a few increments at a time, as I have done with the Andrew Madsen and James Monsen histories.  I will also paste the pages over to David's own blog page: http://davidrgunderson.blogspot.com/

This book will be of interest to not only the Gunderson Family but also to the Brotherson, Ericksen, Peel,   Madsen, Larsen and more.

FUNERAL SERVICES FOR PETER LEON HAFEN

 

The Day "All Hell Broke Loose", Leo Larsen

 

In the photo above, we are looking down first south from state street. 

 

In response to an invitation from my grandchildren to tell them about my early life, I pondered for a moment, cleared my throat and began--- “Let me tell you about a devastating flash flood that hit Mt. Pleasant and did an untold amount of damage to property and took the life of one man. It was a day I will never forget. It was the summer of 1918.”

 “It was like all hell was turned loose. My brother Vernon and Daddy and I were out at the farm irrigating our alfalfa hay. Rain began to fall, and as we took shelter in our barn, Daddy looked toward the mountains. With a very worried tone of voice, he called our attention to the cloud burst on top of the mountains and told us that it might bring a flood, and a food could mean trouble. He then told us that at about 18 years of age he had witnessed a terrible flood and didn’t want to see another. He then urges us   to hurry and hitch old Tillie, our old bay mare, to the buggy while he set the water for the night and we would go home early.” “In a matter of minutes we were ready to go, and with the crack of the whip old Tillie was off on a fast trot toward home.

 About half way home Daddy stopped the buggy to listen. We heard the fire bell ringing. In those days when there was a fire or an emergency of any kind, the fire bell was rung to warn the people of the emergency. We could also hear a faint roar towards the mountains and Daddy said he was sure there was a flood and it could be a big one.” “As we reached the edge of town, we could see people hurrying in all directions, some in wagons, some on horses and others running on foot. A man on a horse came up to us and said to Daddy, ‘Say, Fred, I don’t know whether you can get home or not. They say nearly every bridge across Pleasant Creek is washed out. It surely is a mess there in the center of town.’” “I was sitting next to Daddy. I grabbed his arm and cried, ‘Gee, Daddy, what will we do if we can’t get across the creek and get home to Mamma?’” “we were soon at 3rd North.

We could now smell the mud. We stopped briefly and talked to the people gathered there. One said, ‘It’s terrible!’ another, ‘What a mess!’ Still another, ‘It’s just like all hell is turned loose, led by the Devil himself!’ Someone said that we might get across the channel on 2nd East by Tobe Candland’s home.” “As we drove up 3rd North, we learned that the bridge by Tobe’s was the only bridge left and that a few people had gone over it. The road for about one block from the bridge was covered with thick mud, ranging from six inches to a foot deep. I grabbed Daddy’s arm again and Vernon held on to me as Daddy urged old Tillie through the water and mud.”

 “As we approached nearer the bridge, a big boulder had been deposited in the middle of the road and Tillie needed extra urging to pass the big smelly thing. When we were directly over the channel, I remember how horrified I was as I looked down into that seething, smelly mass of mud, having the consistency of thick, brown, boiling gravy. Although by now the peak of the flood had passed, we could still hear the bump, bump, bump of the boulders being carried by the force of the heavy water.” “Even old Tillie was glad to get across the bridge, for she lost no time getting us home. I remember how glad I was to see Mama. She was out in the road waiting for us. She was wiping her eyes with the corner of her apron.

 I remember that night the feeling of security as we safely sat down to a supper of salt pork, potatoes and gravy, and fresh vegetables from our garden, with applesauce for dessert.” “After supper Vernon remarked that Daddy surely did set the water for the night awfully quick.

Daddy explained that he was worried. He said he was sure when he saw that cloud burst on top of the mountain that there would be another flood like the big flood he mentioned out to the farm that he had witnessed when he was eighteen years old in the summer of 1893. He said he and his mother and sisters and a brother were on their little homestead farm in the mouth of Pleasant Creek Canyon. They were caught in a cloud burst. Soon they could hear a flood coming down the canyon. His half brother, Andrew Peterson, then about twenty-four years old, jumped onto his horse and raced to town and warned the people that a flood was coming. Daddy then said the rest of the family climbed the hill where the Mt. Pleasant electric power plant now stands and watched the flood come out of the canyon. He said it was like a wall of water and mud twenty feet high rushing forward with a deafening roar. Everything in its path was taken with it. Large trees were simply uprooted and tossed end over end downstream. Huge boulders, some as big as a room, were moved and left down on the farm land below. So great and terrible&nbsp ; was this flood that whenever anything is mentioned or anything happens that reminds him of this experience, it strikes horror into his heart and a sickening sensation in his stomach.”

 “As we were talking, a neighbor came and excitedly asked, ‘Have you heard the terrible news? Lewis Oldham lost his life in the flood. They don’t know where his body is.’ Our neighbor then explained how she had heard it had happened. According to George Rosenberg (Petersen), he and his wife were visiting the Oldham family, whose home is about one mile out of the mouth of Pleasant Creek Canyon. When the first sounds of the flood reached their ears, they went to the main channel, which is a short distance from the house to see the flood. Soon they discovered that a small part of the flood, which had overflowed the main channel, was coming down a little hollow between them and their house, so they hurriedly found a pole to walk across the small newly formed stream. They were all safely across except Mr. Oldham, and as he was crossing, a flush of much more flood water came and covered the pole, and Mr. Oldham slipped and fell into the now suddenly increased stream.

The shock of this sudden emergency in his life either caused him to have a heart attack, or he was so confused he could not act. He merely sat motionless on the thick mud as it carried him down to the main channel of raging water, mud, and rocks. George Rosenberg ran along the bank trying to reach him, begging him to hold out his hand so he could get hold of it and help him out, or grab onto that bunch of willows, but Mr. Oldham just sat dazed and rode the thick mud to his death.” “One week later the fire bell rang again and the people gathered on Main Street and learned that the battered body of Lewis Oldham had been found lodged against a fence west of town near the D. & R.G. railroad tracks. All his clothes had been torn off his body except one shoe.” “The death of Lewis Oldham was of course a great shock to the whole community and added determination to public sentiment to do something better about the floods if they could. But what could they do? Back in 1894 a flood dam was built. Shortly after, a small flood came. The dam diverted the flood to the North and South Fields. A law suit resulted and the city had to pay the damages.

The dam did not solve the problem, it merely shifted the area of destruction. Over the years, several other projects were suggested, but it was not until 1950 that fifteen agencies in all initiated a comprehensive investigation which resulted in a program of flood prevention. This was a program of controlled grazing and terracing the steep slopes and reseeding the range. As a result of this flood investigation, it was learned that there had been twenty floods since the big flood of 1893, or an average of one every three years. Four of these were major floods causing damages into thousands and thousands of dollars. There four major floods occurred in 1893, 1918, 1936, and 1946. The flood in 1946 was a ‘hum-dinger.’

 I will never forget it either. It was the 24th of July. The whole town was ready for a big 24th of July parade. The banks of Pleasant Creek overflowed at the bridge over State Street; diverting the water, mud, rocks, and tree stumps down Main Street. And what a parade that turned out to be.” “I want to mention before I quit two more things about the flood that I remember vividly. The next day after the flood, we rode around town looking at the extent of the damage where the flood had gone. We saw a straw stack down in the middle of Main Street. The flood had taken the straw stack from the yard of Emil Hafen, and floated it down six or eight blocks unmolested, and even a setting hen ’scrook’ was still on top devoted to her task of trying to hatch out the nest of eggs she had secretly stolen away. The other was the ‘digging out’ or the ‘clean up’ which was such a tremendous task that Mt. Pleasant City requested help from the State Government. The State responded by sending a group of convicts, as they were called then, from the State Penitentiary. I remember weeks later as we passed over the bridge one day, a uniformed guard with gun drawn was guarding these convicts. I noticed one convict in particular   who was shoveling rocks into a wheel barrow. When he had a load, he picked up a big steel ball that was fastened to a four foot length of chain which was locked to his ankle. He put the ball into the wheel barrow with the rocks and walked over to dump his load.”

“So, young people, you can understand why I will never forget the devastating floods that hit Mt. Pleasant.” Source: History of Mt. Pleasant U.S. Soil Conservation Service Verlyn Oldham, Leora Oldham, and John A. Peterson Family records and author’s memory. HOLLY

Joe Duncan

 

The picture above shows the Prophet Joseph Smith dressed in his Lieutenant General uniform. The Prophet rode this horse in maneuvers of the Nauvoo Legion and many other occasions.

While living in Nauvoo, Moses Martin Sanders and his wife Amanda Armstrong Faucett Sanders lived as neighbors to the Prophet, Joseph Smith, and they cherished their association with the Smith Family. Moses owned a very beautiful, but unruly horse. As Moses was often away from home, performing church duties, it fell to the lot of Amanda to lead this horse to water and she was really afraid of him. He was very high spirited.


One day the Prophet Joseph said to his neighbor, Moses, "Brother Sanders, give the horse to me and I'll promise that you will never lose by it." Moses Martin replied, "I would, but I am afraid that he may hurt you." Then the Prophet said, "No, he would never hurt me." So Moses tossed him the rope and said, "He is yours." The horse was called "JOE DUNCAN", a very beautiful, intelligent animal.

Moses Martin Sanders Sr. and Amanda Armstrong Faucett Sanders 

NORTH BRICK SCHOOL HOUSE