Sunday, December 31, 2017

Wiilliam and Margaret Morrison (additional information)


 


Also see:  https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2217707143168230507#editor/target=post;postID=1720239362603982929;onPublishedMenu=allposts;onClosedMenu=allposts;postNum=7;src=link

The following comes from Family Search.  More information on William and Margaret Morrison:

William and his wife Margaret, sometimes called Maggie, arrived in Salt Lake City on September 23, 1856, and settled in Sugar House. They left Sugar House for the south when the people abandened their homes because of the Johnson Army panic. Maggie and her little son, William III, born at Sugar House, left with a man who took refugees south, and they were taken care of by the Madsen family in Ft. Ephraim until William II arrived. He had been with the men who had organized to defend the people against Johnson's Army. He had assissted in some very interesting and humorous strategy employed at this time. At Fort Ephraim after joining Maggie once more, since both William and Maggie wished to obey the law of plural marriage, he took as his second wife Carolina Christina Morrison, to whom reference was made above. He later also married Anna Marie Hansen, and became the father of twenty seven children. Later William moved to Mt. Pleasant when that town was settled. In the winter of 1864, William was called by Brigham Young, through the Apostle Orson Hyde, to head a party of thirty men and their families who were to organize settlements in Sevier County. He had charge of that mission for some time. Maggie and her family remained in Mt.Pleasant. Caroline Christine the mother of the writer, together with her two oldest children, James and Amanda located in Richfield. Maria settled at Clear Creek Canyon. William had some knowledge of surveying and he assisted with the survey of the city of Richfield . He named the towns of Aurora and Inverury. He was appointed President of the High Priests. He was ordained a Patriarch under the hands of Apostle Lorenzo Snow. He served two terms as a representative in the Utah Legislature and was a member of The Constitutional Convention held in 1872. He was the first probate judge in Sevier County and was elected for a second term. He filled many other positions of trust such as school teacher, postmaster,telegraph operator, and stake clerk, in a manner which commanded the confidenceand blessings of his brethern and fellow citizens. He peformed a good work in the St.George Temple for the living and the dead and was also permitted to receive great blessings in the Manti Temple. He was a full tithe payer and donated liberally to the building of both temples. He lived and died a Patriarch in the fullest sense of the word. A record kept by James, one of William's sons, says he was the first man to be menaced by the Indians at the beginning of the Black Hawk War. In the Summer of 1865 he was traveling north from Richfield when he reached Christian Burg or Twelve Mile, turning off the road to camp, he saw two indians up by the bluffs among the cedars , whose actions were strange. He decided therefore to go three miles farther to a place called Nine Mile. There he saw two indians who were armed. He reached back in his wagon and got his own gun, stared the indians down and drove on to Manti, where he stopped with Harrison Edward. He told Mr. Edward of his experiences with the indians that night and they agreed it looked bad. The next day word came that the indians had killed Pete Ludwickson at Twelve Mile the same day William had escaped. Later in 1866, during another trip, William passed a wagon with one ox lying down and one standing, but no one was in sight. About a mile from the wagon, he saw a pile of loose flour and again, further on, another pile of flour, and a little further on was a man's black hat. He thought sone one had been drunk and went on his way, since he had traveled a lot on business and had seen many strange things. He later found that the indians had attacked, killed and robbed Anthony Robinson. The man was found dead and also one ox was dead. It was the wagon which William had passed and he realized he had had another narrow escape. I remember stories my mother told me of my father's very generous nature in regard to material things. There was a court room episode when he gave to a visiting attorney the Navajo Rug from the floor because he admired it. Court was held in mother's bed chamber because of its comfort and beauty, created by her own hands. I am sure you will enjoy my mental picture of that room as I see it from mother's descriptions. The walls of the room were snow white. A beautiful Navajo rug covered the white floor, the design of the rug being gray and black, worked with indian designs. The washed white wool in the rug matched the walls and the design stood out in beautiful relief against the white wool which had been combed smooth with wool combs until it looked like angor satin. The bed had black turned posters and the blankets on it it were of white wool which had been washed,corded, spun and woven with her own hands. I have watched her do this work. The curtains were white. A mellow light from the fireplace shed a brightness over the room. The beauty of the room could it be seen now, would be a fitting tribute to a wonderful, pioneer mother. I remember another interesting story, that of the graveyard. There my father and a friend spent a night on the underground, as it was called, to hide from the officer spies who were making life miserable for the polygamists. My father and the other gentleman took their beds with them to spend the night in Richfield Cemetary, hoping for a peaceful nights rest. All went well until shortly after midnight, when they were awakened by a terrifying thumping sound coming from the confines of a newly dug grave where something white was bobbing and down. Of course, my father and his companions left that peaceful place without investigation. Next day, father's old white horse was missing and it proved to have been the guilty disturber of the night before. This cured father of the underground. He left for his Clear Creek ranch and sent word to the officers that they could find him there whenever they wanted him. The officers failed to go near the ranch and mother supposed they feared fortified defense. At any rate, father was never disturbed and he lived in peace until he died. William and Maggie were happy o have he privilege of practicing the law of plural marriage, it being a religios principle to which both were converted. It was Maggie who picked my mother as a second wife and told father to get her if he could, knowing her sterling qualities. Father's diary contains the following comment: " I deplore the practice of forcing our gentlewoman to go to Washington to undergo the indignities forced upon them there. I pray that my dear wives will be spared. I honor my plural wives among all my honored ladies, and I number the mothers of kings among them." My father was very kind to children. My one personal memory of him was his taking me in his arms and keeping mother away from me when she had gone for a switch intended for some necessary chastisement. Mother was the first woman in Richfield after the abondoment during the Black Hawk War. The city was abandoned in the first part of April, 1867. Mother had three children at that time, James, Amanda, and Alex. Mother and children went with the settlers. Father had two teams, one drawn by horses and one by oxen. They camped the first night at Gravelly Ford, on the east side of the Sevier River, Fourteen miles from Richfield, Father was detailed to stand guard the first night. My brother Jim, remembers the boys of the camp forcing the animals to swim the river, and he remembers that one fat hog sank and was drowned. He was six years old at the time and saw the things he remembered from his seat in the wagon. Mother had told me that she walked, carrying Alex, and helped to drive the hogs. Jim remembers that on the third day, the party separated, and he remembers seeing the men driving pigs and also remembers the men shooting at the wild geese which circled the camp. At the resettlement, mother told me of the Indians frightening her when she was alone. Father had gone to Sanpete for good. Mother kept the children still, four this time, the youngest being Annie who was born at Mt. Pleasant. She put a stick across the door, to fool the Indians, who would not go near an empty house. One day, the baby cried when the Indians were near and they stormed in demanding food. Mother was scrubbing the floor and had no food to give them. They gave her several lashes with a whip and because she made no protest, but went on scrubbing the floor, they left, calling her a "heap brave squaw." Father was very fair and generous with all new settlers who came to Sevier Valley. All of the Richfield city property was deeded to my father from the government as judge of the district and he always permitted new comers to take their pick, when he could easily have kept the best for himself. Mother being a thrifty Dane, remonstrated, saying they could be rich if he would only use a little wisdom, but Father replied, "we did not come her to get rich, but to serve the Lord." This he did faithfully until the day of his death which occurred August 26, 1889, at Clear Creek Canyon Ranch. He was buried in the Richfield Cemetery on August 28, 1889 at eleven o'clock a.m. Suitable funeral services were held. Eight high priests acted as pall bearers. The speakers were President Seegmiller, Counselors Bean and Clark, and Elder Outzen, Westman and Peterson. All spoke of his having given up everything for the gospel's sake. Elder Keeler offered he benediction. In closing, I shall give two sentiments from William Morrison's own hand book, written November 14, 1868 as follows- "The Counties of Sanpete and Sevier, their development, may they ever excel, like their streams,may their course be onward forever, with peace a plenty." Lula Morrison Barr 

Saturday, December 30, 2017

Journey of Faith by David R. Gunderson





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 BrothersonEricksenPeel,   Madsen, Larsen and more.

JOURNEY OF FAITH
Erick and Caroline Gunderson


RiggingRigging 2Fear of the Sea

Sunday, December 24, 2017

TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS






Twas the eve before Christmas. "Good night," had been said,
And Annie and Willie had crept into bed;
There were tears on their pillows and tears in their eyes,
And each little bosom was heaving with sighs,
For tonight their stern father's command had been given
That they should retire precisely at seven
Instead of at eight - for they troubled him more
With questions unheard of than ever before:

He had told them he thought this delusion a sin,
No such creature as "Santa Claus" ever had been.
And he hoped after this, he should never more hear
How he scrambled down chimneys with presents each year.
And this was the reason the two little heads

So restlessly tossed on their soft, downy beds.
Eight, nine, and the clock on the steeple tolled ten,
Not a word has been spoken by either till then,
When Willie's sad face from the blanket did peep,
And whispered, "Dear Annie, is 'ou fast as'eep?"

"Why, no, brother Willie," A sweet voice replies,
"I've long tried in vain, but I can't shut my eyes,
For somehow it makes me so sorry because
Dear papa has said there is no 'Santa Claus.'
Now we know there is, and it can't be denied,
For he came every year before mamma died;

But, then, I've been thinking that she used to pray,
And God would hear everything mamma would say,
And maybe she asked him to send Santa Claus here
With that sackful of presents he brought every year."


"Well, why tan't we p'ay dest as mamma did den,
And ask Dod to send him with p'esents aden?"
Four little bare feet bounded out on the floor,
And four little knees the soft carpet pressed,
And two tiny hands were clasped close to each breast.

"Now, Willie, you know we must firmly believe
That the presents we ask for we're sure to receive;
You must wait very still till I say the "Amen,"
And by that you will know that your turn has come then."

"Dear Jesus, look down on my brother and me,
And grant us the favor we are asking of thee.
I want a wax dolly, a teaset, and ring,
And an ebony workbox that shuts with a spring.
Bless papa, dear Jesus, and cause him to see
That Santa Claus loves us as much as does he;
Don't let him get fretful and angry again
At dear brother Willie and Annie. Amen."

"Please, Desus, 'et Santa Taus tum down tonight,
And b'ing us some p'esents before it is light;
I want he should div' me a nice 'ittle s'ed,
With bright shinin' 'unners, and all painted red;
A box full of tandy, a book, and a toy.
Amen, and then, Desus, I'll be a dood boy."

Their prayers being ended, they raised up their heads,
With hearts light and cheerful, again sought their beds.
They were lost soon in slumber, both peaceful and deep,
And with fairies in dreamland were roaming in sleep.

Eight, nine, and the little French clock had struck ten,
Ere the father had thought of his children again:
He seems now to hear Annie's half-suppressed sighs,
And to see the big tears stand in Willie's blue eyes.

"I was harsh with my darlings," he mentally said,
"And should not have sent them so early to bed;
But then I was troubled, my feelings found vent,
For bankstock today has gone down ten percent.
But of course they've forgotten their troubles ere this,
And that I denied then their thrice-asked-for kiss:

But, just to make sure, I'll go up to their door,
For I never spoke harsh to my darlings before."
So saying, he softly ascended the stairs,
And arrived at the door to hear both of their prayers;

His Annie's "Bless papa" drew forth the big tears,
And Willie's grave promise fell sweet on his ears.
"Strange - strange - I'd forgotten," said he with a sigh,
"How I longed when a child to have Christmas draw nigh."

"I'll atone for my harshness," he inwardly said,
"By answering their prayers ere I sleep in my bed."
Then he turned to the stairs and softly went down,
Threw off velvet slippers and silk dressing gown,
Donned hat, coat, and boots, and was out in the street,
A millionaire facing the cold, driving sleet!

Nor stopped he until he had bought everything
From the box full of candy to the tiny gold ring;
Indeed, he kept adding so much to his store,
That the various presents outnumbered a score.
Then homeward he turned. With his holiday load,
With Aunt Mary's help, in the nursery was stowed.

Miss Dolly was seated beneath a pine tree,
By the side of a table spread out for her tea;
A workbox well fitted in the center was laid,
And on it the ring for which Annie had prayed,

A soldier in uniform stood by a sled,
"With bright shining runners, and all painted red."
There were balls, dogs, and horses, books pleasing to see,
And birds of all colors were perched in the tree!
While Santa Claus, laughing, stood up in the top,
As if getting ready more presents to drop.

And as the fond father the picture surveyed,
He thought for his trouble he had amply been paid,
And he said to himself, as he brushed off a tear,
"I'm happier tonight than I've been for a year;
I've enjoyed more pure pleasure than every before;
What care I if bank stock falls ten percent more!
Hereafter I'll make it a rule, I believe,
To have Santa Claus visit us each Christmas Eve."
So thinking, he gently extinguished the light,
And, tripping down stairs, retired for the night.

As soon as the beams of the bright morning sun
put the darkness to flight, and the stars one by one,
Four little blue eyes out of sleep opened wide,
And at the same moment the presents espied;
Then out of their beds they sprang with a bound,
And the very gifts prayed for were all of them found.

They laughed and they cried, in their innocent glee,
And shouted for papa to come quickly see
What presents old Santa Claus brought in the night
(Just the things that they wanted,) and left before light:

"And now," added Annie, in a voice soft and low,
"You'll believe there's a 'Santa Claus', papa, I know";
While dear little Willie climbed up on his knee,
Determined no secret between them should be,
And told him in soft whispers how Annie had said
That their dear, blessed mamma, so long ago dead,
Used to kneel down by the side of her chair,
And that God up in heaven had answered her prayer.


"Den we dot up and prayed dust as well as we tould,
And Dod answered our prayers: now wasn't He dood?"
"I should say that He was, if He sent you all these,
And knew just what presents my children would please.
(Well, well, let him think so, the dear little elf,
'Twould be cruel to tell him I did it myself.")

Wednesday, December 20, 2017

The JOhansen Family Jingle Bell Buss

Each year the Johansen Family  of Mt. Pleasant; consisting of Alden, George and Roger Johansen families get together to carol at different homes and leave goodies.  Then they hold a family dinner afterward. This year the bus was full and if the tradition carries on. then there will be a need for a new bus.

Tuesday, December 19, 2017

A Brief History of NIELS CHRISTIANSEN JENSEN of Osterby, Denmark and KAREN SEIERSEN JENSEN and the Hafen Connection

Niels Christiansen Jensen 
Karen Siersen Jensen


Niels Christiansen, second great-grandfather of the Peter Hafen  was born in Tiset Parish, Ning Hered, Aarhus Amt, Denmark on 15th June 1826. His father was Christian Rudolph Phillip Jensen; his mother was Ane Johanne Rasmussen (Tingskoven). His name is written differently on different records and family documents. He may be identified as: Niels Christian Jensen Niels C. Jensen Niels Christiansen Niels Christiansen Jensen As far as can be determined, however, he himself used only the name of Niels Christiansen in his lifetime. In typical Danish patronymic style, this identified him as Niels, son of Christian. On July 15, 1853, he married Karen, a daughter of Jens Seiersen, of Tingskoven, in Tiset Parish. Shortly before his marriage, Mormon missionaries came to their district. Niels' father readily believed the message, and joined the L.D.S. faith in 1852. Niels also listened, investigated this new religion, and then was baptized 28 Oct. 1855. His wife, Karen, also joined, and they were called "the Mormon" family of Osterby. This was the little farm village in Tiset where their first three children, Jens (James), Ane and Andrew were born. Before 1855, the family moved a few miles away to another farm village called Ravnholt. Four more children were born here. At that period of time, ostracism seemed to be the lot of many Mormons in Denmark. Niels and his family evidently decided to "gather to Zion." Soren, a younger brother of Niels, joined the Church in 1857. In the early 1860's, the two brothers and their elderly parents saved, and made plans to go to Utah.Soren was the first to make the long journey. According to the personal history of John Y. Jensen (4th child born to Niels) the family left for America in 1866. He indicates they sailed from Liverpool on May 2, 1866, in a ship named the "Kenilworth." Their company was under the direction of Samuel Sprague. They arrived in New York on July 17th. Continuing on to the western frontier, they joined a wagon team under the direction of Captain Joseph Rawlings, and crossed the plains to Utah. (Note: A D.U.P. publication says Niels crossed the plains in 1866 in an oxen train under Captain "Reynolds." This must be a. misspelling.) (Note: L.D.S. Church immigration records show that a ship Kenilworth sailed from Hamburg on Nay 25, 1866 with 684 Saints aboard. They were under the direction of Samuel L. Sprague. They landed at New York. These same records also indicate that Joseph S. Rawlins was captain of a wagon train that outfitted in Nebraska, and started west on Aug. 2, 1866. There were 400 persons and 65 wagons in the company. They arrived in Great Salt Lake Valley on Oct. 1st, 1866.) According to the Family records of the Fred Anderson family, of Huntington, Utah, Niels and Karen's eldest daughter, Ane, came to Utah in 1864, two years before the rest of the family migrated. She was only nine years old. She walked much of the way across the plains. Sometimes she was permitted to set on a wagon-tongue, or crosstree, to rest. She helped to gather "buffalo-chips" for the evening fires. She was all alone in Salt Lake City, and nearly starved, living on potatoes alone. Finally she was able to make her way to Fountain Green, where her Uncle, Soren, was living. Niels, and his family, also settled in Fountain Green, Sanpete, Utah. Church officials suggested that the family should adopt the American way for family names, and should adopt the surname of Jensen, from their father Christian R.Y. Jensen, the first member to join the Church. All of the older children then changed their surname to Jensen, including Andrew. But Niels continued to use Christiansen as his own surname. Two sons were born to him and Karen in Ftn. Green. (Niels and Joseph.) These children were given the surname of Christiansen, and their descendants have continued to use this surname, while the descendants of the older children have all used the surname of Jensen. Niels and his kinfolk were poor, and the children went out to work for other families, to earn a few clothes, and board. Niels was eventually able to obtain a small farm in Fountain Green. He farmed, and also raised bees (apiarist) on his farm. He raised his children strong in the faith. They were stalwarts in the Church, and helped to establish the new Pioneer communities. Niels took part as a home-guard during the Black-Hawk Indian "war." Then in 1890, he moved to Castle Dale. He continued farming, and bee-keeping. Family traditions indicate that Karen did not like Castle-Dale, and she refused to live there. She went back to Fountain Green. The details are vague, but it is probable that Niels took another wife. Death came to Niels on 7th April 1908, in Castle Dale. His wife, Karen, outlived him. She died in Fountain Green on 21 May 1909. They left a numerous posterity. Eight of their nine children lived, married and had many descendants in Utah, and throughout the west. Written and compiled by Elwin W. Jensen--Great Grandson







                Hafen Pedigree to Niels Christiansen Jensen :




Monday, December 18, 2017

GOOGLE PIZZA ~ submitted by Larry Staker (Oh, the convenience of modern technology)

CALLER: Is this Gordon's Pizza?
GOOGLE: No sir, it's Google Pizza.
CALLER: I must have dialed a wrong number. Sorry.
GOOGLE: No sir, Google bought Gordon's Pizza last month.
CALLER: OK. I would like to order a pizza.
GOOGLE: Do you want your usual, sir?

CALLER: My usual? You know me?
GOOGLE:
According to our caller ID data sheet, the last 12 times you called you ordered
an extra-large pizza with three cheeses, sausage, pepperoni, mushrooms
and meatballs on a thick crust.
CALLER: OK! That's what I want ...
GOOGLE:
May I suggest that this time you order a pizza with ricotta, arugula,
sun-dried tomatoes and olives on a whole wheat gluten free thin crust?
CALLER: What? I detest vegetables.
GOOGLE: Your cholesterol is not good, sir.
CALLER: How the hell do you know?
GOOGLE:
Well, we cross-referenced your home phone number with your medical records.
We have the result of your blood tests for the last 7 years.
CALLER:
Okay, but I do not want your rotten vegetable pizza!  I already take
medication for my cholesterol.
GOOGLE:
Excuse me sir, but you have not taken your medication regularly.
According to our database, you only purchased a box of 30 cholesterol
tablets once, at Drug RX Network, 4 months ago.
CALLER: I bought more from another drugstore.
GOOGLE: That doesn't show on your credit card statement.
CALLER: I paid in cash.
GOOGLE: But you did not withdraw enough cash according to your bank statement.
CALLER: I have other sources of cash.
GOOGLE:
That doesn't show on your last tax return unless you bought them using an
undeclared income source, which is against the law.
CALLER: WHAT THE HELL?
GOOGLE: I'm sorry, sir, we use such information only with the sole intention of helping you.
CALLER:
Enough already! I'm sick to death of Google, Facebook, Twitter, WhatsApp and
all the others. I'm going to an island without internet, cable TV,
where there is no cell phone service and no one to watch me or spy on me.
GOOGLE: I understand sir, but you need to renew your passport first.  It expired 6 weeks ago...

Friday, December 15, 2017

CHRISTMAS MEMORIES of Eleanor Augusta Dehlin Erickson, 1862-1940. Contributed By Kristi Guerrette ·

Eleanor Augusta Dehlin Erickson 
 I remember Grandma's Swedish pancakes ---how one of them completely filled her big iron skillet. Mom never made this kind of pancakes so they were a real treat to us. Two more of her specialties were her Christmas cakes and puddings. On a planned day in the fall she would walk across the street to our house, hair freshly done up in a bun, a clean apron covering her house dress, ready to put the holiday goodies together. Each one usually took the better part of one day. 
After she died, Mom continued on alone. It had become a family tradition. Those cakes and puddings were the very best in the world. I have never tasted any that were any better. We kids would often go over to her place to take milk or fresh butter, or freshly baked bread or the mail and she would often ask us to stay and eat with them. We were shy and would usually say 'No, we were not hungry', then Grandpa would grin and reply, "Any day I'd rather feed a man who admits he's hungry than one who says he isn't. The one who says he isn't hungry always eats the most."

 Grandma was an avid reader. She would read by the hour while Grandpa was working in the garden and the yard. He always arose about four or five each morning in the summer time, and then by seven at night, although it was still very light outside, he would be in bed. Grandma would sit up until late every night reading, doing some handwork and listening to the ten o'clock news, and then she'd sleep until ten the next morning. She had cataracts on both eyes, had surgery to have them removed and suffered a great deal from this. But the suffering didn't disturb her as much as the fact that she could no longer read with ease. For much of the time she had to be content with just listening to the news on the radio. Sometimes she struggled to read with a big round magnifying glass. 
Her beloved Etudes (music magazines) would sit stacked up in the front room on a chair or on top of her music cabinet and gather dust --- magazines she had spent so many hours pouring through when her sight was better. She had some sort of infection, probably sinus, that caused her severe headaches. She couldn't tolerate cold air and remained inside the house a good deal, especially in the winter time. This was in the last years of her life.


It was very hard for Grandma when Grandpa had his stroke. It happened in July of 1939. He and Grandma had just finished entertaining their Johansen friends from Cardston area, and had sung several duets for them. The company had barely left when Grandpa began acting very strange and was forced to lie down on the living-room couch. The doctor was called and we were told he had suffered a stroke. Weeks later he got so he could walk over to our place but his left side never fully recovered. His leg dragged, his arm was unsteady, and his face, mostly his eye, was affected. Suddenly, after years of being waited on by her husband, Grandma now found the tables turned. It was now necessary for her to do the "waiting" on him. We always thought Grandma would be the first to go because she had had so many health problems over the years. 
By Christmas time he was completely bed-ridden and finally passed away on the 24th of January 1940. 

Grandma had been so involved in helping Mom take care of him she was heard to say at his passing,"I hope the Lord will take me fast when it is time for me to go. I don't want to linger and have to have loved ones wait on me day and night. I don't want to be a burden on anyone." She was given her wish. One afternoon that fall she went to her garden to gather potatoes for her dinner. She was carrying them in her apron. As she walked up her stairs to the back door, she suddenly fell forward. Gen, who lived in the other part of her house, and a neighbor, John Kimball, carried her into the house and she was pronounced dead by the doctor when he arrived shortly afterwards. In death she looked so beautiful and peaceful, just like she was sleeping.




The following has been added by Kathy:  A recipe for Swedish Pancakes http://www.myownsweetthyme.com/2008/11/swedish-pancakes.html
Image result for Swedish pancakes
Swedish pancakes, if you don't know, are quite a bit different than your ordinary pancake. They are more of a crepe than anything else. Compared to making regular pancakes, Swedish pancakes seem like a lot of work, but for the occasional special breakfast they are well worth it.

3 eggs
1-1/4 cup milk
3/4 cup sifted all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt

This recipe will make approximately nine 8" pancakes. (We tripled the recipe to make enough pancakes for a brunch for five with some left over. All of the pancakes were gone before dinner.)

The instructions say,"Beat eggs till thick and lemon-colored." After that, sift and add the dry ingredients mixing gently with a wire whip. When the mix is the consistency of a thick paste, add the milk slowly as you continue to mix. The reason for mixing slowly is so that you don't mix too much air in the batter. A batter that is frothy does not seem to cook properly.

When the batter is ready, set it aside, and prepare the frying pan. The best pans are about 8 to 10 inches in diameter at the bottom, with very low sides. The low sides make it easier to flip the pancakes. Start with the heat at medium and adjust as needed. Each pan seems to have its own quirks about how much heat it likes and how fast it will cook pancakes. Melt about half a teaspoon of butter in the pan and when melted, spread it around so that it covers the bottom of the pan. You need to add more butter for each pancake which can be a challenge with more than one pan. I pre-slice bits of butter ahead of time so that they are ready to toss in the pan without losing time fiddling with the butter knife.


Pour in just enough batter to cover two thirds of the pan, and then swirl the pan to spread the batter. Let the pancake cook for about 30 seconds, and then peek under one edge. When it starts to brown in spots, flip the pancake and cook for another 15 to 30 seconds depending on heat.

Tuesday, December 12, 2017

Blessings Remembered At Christmas Time ~~~ Mike Ericksen

 As we ponder and consider the blessings we have at this Christmas time, I
think it's wise to think about our heritage as well as what we will leave to future generations—our legacy.
Perhaps our trials, petty squabbles, and even those things, which we
deem as issues that are too great for us to get over, are brought low especially at this time of the year when we think about what the savior had, what he taughtus that was important, and the legacy he left behind in his life and humble circumstance.
Please read this story of a Christmas in 1926 exactly how it happened
(well, exactly how it may have happened).
Mike Ericksen, in an email to his
famiy and friends, December 2012

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~December 1926

“Merry Christmas, Mother,” Leonard called as he
walked into the warmth of the kitchen, through the
swinging door from the backyard. The screech of the
stretching spring and the bang of the quick snap of the
light screen door announcing his entry before his voice was heard.

His mother, who was sitting on a chair in the corner
of the room with her grandson Max in her lap, fanned a slight smile as she watched him glide by, his arms
carefully holding an almost straight-stacked tower of
small pieces of wood that he had been splitting to refill the wood bin used to fire up the already heated and smoking stove.

His wife, Jennette, was making pancakes and
bacon in the small kitchen area of Ane Marie’s home in Mt. Pleasant. As she cooked, she sang a song that she had taught her children. “Falling snowflakes make me
shiver, but a warm pile of hotcakes with plum syrup, to my tummy I deliver.”

Then placing a pile of hotcakes on a plate for the kids, she laughed heartily.
Ane Marie, smiled and stroked the hair of 18 month-old Max as he lay against
her chest “He’s so happy,” she said, “He reminds me of Willy.”
Leonard and his family had just arrived the day before by train from Hamer,
Idaho where Leonard worked for the Union Pacific Railroad. Leonard and
Jennette had three children: Virginia, Doug, and Max. “What time is Chris coming over?”  Leonard asked his father, Hans, who had just walked into the room with a small bucket of cream.

As we ponder and consider the blessings we have at this Christmas time, I
think it's wise to think about our heritage as well as what we will leave to future
generations—our legacy.

Perhaps our trials, petty squabbles, and even those things, which we
deem as issues that are too great for us to get over, are brought low especially
at this time of the year when we think about what the savior had, what he taught
us that was important, and the legacy he left behind in his life and humble
circumstance.


“Oh your brother will make it for dinner,” Hans replied, we would do well to
start dinner early as his herd of kids will go through everything in the cupboards
within minutes,” “Han’s,” Ane Marie shot toward her husband, warningly.
Hans just smiled as he walked past, looking down at little Max as he went by.
“He is a bit like Willy, isn’t he?” he added.

A few minutes later they were sitting around the large dining room table about to
eat Christmas morning breakfast.  Hans bowed his head to say the prayer, but before he could start, Ane Marie said “Hans, please don’t forget the children.” Hans smiled and simply said, “Yes, of course.”

He thanked God for living in Zion, he thanked Him for the food they had, as
his voice quieted slightly and his tone became softer, Hans thanked Him for the
two children they raised on this earth, he then said, thank you for those that we
had for a little while and that we will surely have again and then he very slowly
and deliberately and with some emotion, said each name: Hannah, Andrew,
Hansine, William, Anker, Hans Jr., Willy and Olof.

In this Christmas prayer he thanked God, as he did every year since June 9th,
1920, for the children they had and those children that they would again have,
and never, not once in all those years in this certain prayer and on this very
special day, did he ask for anything—for that gift was above all others.
Following breakfast Leonard gave his mother, Ane Marie, a gift. The gift was
a simple one that he had written last year on the journey back to Idaho after their
Christmas visit. This gift, would bless her life and the lives of many even down to
the present generation. Leonard slowly removed the paper from his coat pocket.
Ane Marie was sitting in her big cushioned chair, wrapped in a shawl. She
spent a lot of hours in that chair these days, and as she watched her family, her
eyes would move to the distance. A distance only known to those that had been
on the trail for too many years.

Leonard knelt in front of her when he read it to her, as she never learned to
read English. Slowly and deliberately the words fell from his lips. All in the room listened intently.

What I Owe My Mother
The first conscious remembrance I have of
my mother, is of a wonderful smile hovering over
me. It meant. My Mother…
As life went by and perplexities, vexations,
and tribulations appear, it became my habit to look
to this smile for strength when courage was low
and results uncertain. I well remember its
stimulus as I lisped my first effort from the school
stage, and timidly sought her face in the audience;
its consolation when I was sick.

When the time came that issues of life must
be met without my Mother at hand, I found that
such smiles as hers were rare and were not reflex.
In process of analysis, I found that her smile was born of the
spirit. It was the expression of her interpretation of life. My Mother’s
courage was not the sink-or-swim, live-or-die variety. Life to her was
not a struggle or an affliction, but a beautiful privilege to live and
act. She loved the world and everything in it, and the great giver for
allowing her to be part of his creation. This was the secret of her
smile.

My mother’s early life would be termed anything but pleasant.
When a child of 10 years, her Father and Mother with two sisters
and a brother crossed the plains from Nebraska to Salt Lake City in
the Willie Handcart Co. and while journeying westward, one cold day,
her Father with 12 others were buried in one grave by the wayside.

From a mere child to a young woman she was compelled to
work for others and when she received her scant pay, would take it
to assist her widowed Mother. She evidently had her full stock of
what the world defines as hard knocks, cares and privations and
difficulties. As I saw her smile a few days ago when I came home to
spend Christmas, I noticed it had lost none of its inspiration, but it
was grown a bit wistful and tremulous, for my mother
is past 81.

But, when I shall behold it no more in the flesh,
this smile its impress which distance cannot dim nor
time efface, will still be my pilot even to life’s sunset
with the assurance that whatever comes must be best
and good, for God is in His Heaven.

L.E. Hamer, Idaho
Dec. 30, 1925
Ane Marie, quietly wept as Leonard finished and he gave her a soft kiss on her cheek. The moment hung in the air, in the quiet, and the room was still for some time. Suddenly, someone called out, “Uncle Chris is here,” and
the reverence of the moment was replaced with the excitement
of Christmas.

When Ane Marie, Hans, and their son, Chris, came to Utah,
from Nebraska in 1881, they had three more children; Willy,
who only lived for three months, Olof, who lived only 16-
months both dying on Feb. 20, 1886, and Leonard
(1888-1960), my grandfather, the last child of Ane Marie, who
was born in 1889 and lived until 1960.

Ane Marie and Hans were concerned that they might not be accepted back into the church when they left Utah, the Zion they had once found, because they, for a time, had turned their backs on their faith and their people. But they were
received with open arms, love, and words of encouragement, which is the way of people living the gospel, especially those that had been through so much for their faith. In 1900 Ane Marie lost her dear sister Kristina. On June 9th, 1920, Ane Marie and Hans would go to the temple and have 9 of their 10 children sealed to them as a family for all eternity. It was the single most important day in their life. Leonard
was sealed to his parents in 1931 at the Manti Temple.

That Christmas day in 1926 three years             


Doug, then 13 years old, walked up to the music
box that Hans had bought for her when they lived in
Grand Island, Nebraska. As he turned it on, Ane
Marie got very sad as she had occasion to do, and
Hans told Doug that she didn’t want to hear it
because it was too hard to listen to as it brought
back painful memories. Doug replied that he liked
the music. Hans gave it to him as a Christmas
present with a protest from his father, Leonard,
“What do you want with that old thing. If you want it you’ll have to carry it
yourself.” So he tied a rope around it and took it with him to Hamer, Idaho. His
children have it to this day.

Hans died in December 1928. Leonard was afraid of the bank situation and
being liable for bank losses, so he and Christian sold the family house and paid
the creditors. Ane Marie received a check from
the bank when she lived in Hamer with Leonard
at the time of her death in September 1929. The
Depression hit in October and the bank check
was never cashed.