John and Lena Jorgensen
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Below you will see a photo of their family :
Sketch
On the Life of
Lena Winkler Jorgensen
By her son
George Edgar Jorgensen
December, 1970
A century has passed since Hans Ulrich Winkler, his wife Maria Thalmann, their two children ,
Lena, almost three years old, Jacob, a year and a half, and Aunt Anna Winkler, grandfather=s
sister left Zell, Switzerland May 6, 1864 to make their home in Utah Aamong the Saints.@
At this tender age, Lena Winkler was too young to know much about the little hamlet of Zell and
the beauty that surrounded it. Nor could she appreciate the home that sheltered the family and
housed the bakery. It was in this home that Mother was born August 26, 1861. She was
christened in the little Lutheran Church close by.
One of Mother=s fondest hopes was that she would one day have the opportunity to see Zell, go
inside the old home and visit the little church. However, she had to be content with hearing
others tell about it. Two of her brothers, William and Wilford, while serving as missionaries in
Switzerland visited there where they were shown through the home and bakery. They also went
to the church where the pastor let them see the records and pointed out therein, Mother=s name.
In 1936, while on their way home from presiding over the South African Mission, Geneva
Jorgensen Dalton, a daughter, and her husband, Don Mack Dalton, their two sons, Gerald and
George Edward visited Zell, and said they were impressed with the quaint old Winkler home and
the beautiful countryside. David Brown, a great grandson of Mother=s, while serving in the
Swiss Mission was in Zell in 1965 and found that the Winkler home and bakery had been razed.
During the summer of 1968, while vacationing in Europe with his family, Lieutenant Colonel
Richard I. Jorgensen, a grandson, with his wife Evelyn, and their three sons, Stephen, Michael
and Jeffrey visited Zell and said a supermarket now occupies the site of the Winkler home.
Five members of the Winkler family were among the first to be identified with the Church of
Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints in Zell. They left their native land and crossed the Atlantic
Ocean in the sailing ship AHudson.@ In mid ocean, during the voyage, Mother=s second brother,
Ulrich Hudson, was born, but died after a few days and was buried at sea. As the brave little
family continued their journey west by land, little Lena and Jacob were stricken with scarlet
fever, which claimed the life of Jacob. He was buried beneath an elm tree in Wyoming,
Nebraska. Mother never did completely recover from her illness. One shoulder was so affected
that it had a slight droop. The thousand-mile trip across the plains in a covered wagon drawn by
an ox team did not help her condition any. Mother said the only thing she remembered about the
long journey was when her father lifted her from the wagon at the mouth of Emigration Canyon
and held her up to see the vast Salt Lake Valley and what could be seen of Salt Lake City. The
date was November 2, 1864. Mother said she remembered the event because they talked about it
quite often later on.
After a two-week rest in Salt Lake City, where they received treatment for their ills, the family
was sent to Richfield. They left Salt Lake City on November twentieth in a heavy snow storm
and arrived in Richfield about a week later. Grandfather prepared a Adugout@ in which to live
during the winter. The following summer he built a two-roomed adobe home. Mother spent her
fourth birthday on the plains and her first home in America was a Adugout.@
When the family was living in Richfield, Mother, now six years old, experienced her first Indian
scare. Grandfather was away from home. Grandmother (Maria) was baking bread and while she
was removing the loaves from the oven, an Indian entered the room and demanded the bread.
Since Grandmother refused to give him more that one loaf, he drew a large butcher knife from
his belt and threatened her. As quick as a flash, she struck his wrist and the knife fell to the
floor. The Indian looked surprised, picked it up, took the loaf she had given him and left the
house. Mother, who stood close by was too frightened to move or speak.
That fall, 1867, Brigham Young advised the settlers of Richfield to move to the settlements
farther north and remain there until the Indian troubles could be settled. The Winkler family
moved to Mount Pleasant where they established their permanent home. The next fourteen years
of mother=s life were spent here and for the most part they were happy ones. At a very early age
she learned the art of homemaking - learned to cook, sew, card wool, spin it into yarn and knit it
into stockings. Grandmother was a good teacher in these arts and her daughter, Lena, learned
quickly and was a willing worker. She was a great help to her mother and father as well. She
helped with outside work, too. She learned to milk cows, feed chickens and pigs and do farm
work such as tromping hay and helping to load and unload grain. Like Ruth of old, she gleaned
the fields after the reapers.
Mother obtained all of her formal schooling in Mount Pleasant. She once said that they sat on
slab benches and used desks made of the same material. She never did see hickory sticks
standing in the corner of the school room nearest the teacher=s desk to enforce discipline and
encourage study. Mother advanced far enough in school to qualify as a substitute teacher. Judge
George Christensen, Eric and Lars Gunderson, later residents of Price, Utah, spoke of having
attended her school and being her pupils in Mount Pleasant.
The most carefree time of her life was when she worked for Abram Johnson as a clerk in his
store. It was there she made some of her choicest and most lasting friendships. They were many
but the three most dear to her were Mariah Johnson Day, Sophia Rolfson Frandsen and Clara
Ryland. Mother was always active in church work.. She taught Sunday School classes and took
part in entertainments. She always remembered with fond memories the parties on the foot hills,
called AHorse Heaven;@ the trips to the canyons in the summertime picnicking; gathering choke
cherries and service berries in the fall; the bob-sled rides in winter and the house parties that
followed.
It was the bob-sled riding in the winter of 1881-1882 that attracted her attention to John Smith
Jorgensen. He owned a fine team and a good bob-sled. He displayed some gallantry and
appeared to have some extra cash to spend. He had lived in Mount Pleasant since he was a year
old, but most of his time had been spent working out of town and their paths had never crossed
until that winter. He was tall, attractive, good-natured, full of fun and generous. I guess you
could say he Aswept Mother off her feet.@ She was almost twenty and had had other proposals
for marriage but she never felt serious towards matrimony until he made his proposal.
Grandmother Winkler died on December 9, 1880 following the birth of Edwin, the ninth child
who lived only seventeen days. Mother felt that she could not leave her father in his sorrow to
look after the younger children by himself. Ernest was only two years old and needed a great
deal of care. Relatives came to their rescue and she learned then to appreciate them, especially
her Aunt Louise Hasler, her mother=s sister, and Aunt Ana and Elizabeth Winkler, her father=s
sisters, who assumed most of the management of their home so that she could continue her work
at the store until July of 1882 when she married John Smith Jorgensen.
On September 13, 1882, their marriage was sealed in the Salt Lake Endowment House. Soon
after, father and mother moved to Burville (Grass Valley) in Sevier County where they started a
life of rugged pioneering.
Their first three children were born in AGrass Valley.@ John Ulrich on March 12, 1883; Georfe
Edgar on August 26, 1884 (Mother=s birthday) and Mary Gertrude on April 14, 1886. In order to
support the family, Father farmed on shares, herded sheep or looked after cattle. To supplement
these earnings, Mother raised a garden. The Indians were more friendly in this vicinity so
Mother traded her surplus vegetables for hind quarters of venison, referred to as Asaddle of
venison.@
The folks said life in AGrass Valley@ was not all work and worry. There was time to attend
church, visit with friends and go on camping trips to Fish Lake. One time when they were
camped there enjoying the yield of fish from the lake and the beautiful mountain scenery, they
left their two young sons, John and George in their covered wagon while they attended a
Ahoedown@ in the pioneer style dance hall. Either the noise from the party of pranksters
awakened the boys because their crying attracted help. Two men brought them down to the
dance hall and proceeded to auction them off to the highest bidder with these words, AHow much
am I offered for these two howling papooses?@ The bidding was lively and the howls of the two
frightened youngsters matched it. Mother became serious and excited about the matter and said
to Father, AIf you=re not going to do something about this business, I will.@ Father answered,
AWhat can I do about it, I don=t have any money.@ Mother immediately took the floor and the
bidding stopped. What she said is not recorded but the two youngsters were returned to their
rightful owner.
Father fished at Fish Lake during the winter months. He said he and his companions rode their
horses up the mountain until the snow got too deep, then they continued their journey on snow
shoes and made good catches of fish from the lake where the Twin Creeks empty into it.
Father disliked herding sheep and Mother feared to be left alone while he was away. The climate
in Grass Valley was not adapted to farming. The crops often failed to mature because of early
frost, so after partial failures for four years, the folks decided to move to a warmer climate.
Father and Mother had been told that Hanksville in Wayne County had a warm climate and that
it also offered good opportunities for successful farming and stock raising. The Henry
Mountains and adjacent desert country was good for grazing cattle both in the winter and the
summer, but they found the soil in Hanksville not very fertile and the Dirty Devil Creek was hard
to control because of floods. Hanksville was far away and hard to reach due to the poor roads
which were almost impossible in some places.
Mother=s own words describe this condition best. ATo get there,@ she once said, Awe had to travel
a long way through a deep canyon (the Capitol Reef Gorge). The canyon was only wide enough
to permit a wagon to pass through, and the cliffs on either side rose straight up for hundreds of
feet. I don=t know what we would have done had we met another team or even a pack mule, it
was too narrow to permit passing. In places, there was so much sand and rocks that we could
hardly get through. The two young colts in trying to keep along side their mother who was
pulling the wagon, almost caused a tip over several times. I was never so scared in my life. I
feared a sudden storm might break loose and cause a flood, in which case we would have
perished because there was no means of escape. Wagon, horses, our lives - all would have been
lost. I have never prayed harder for deliverance than I did then. There are no words that could
express my gratitude when we reached the end of the canyon and I vowed I would never go
through there again. But when I saw Hanksville and its surroundings, I changed my mind
immediately. Rather than live there in that forsaken wilderness and try to make a living and raise
a family, I=d go through anything.@ So, the stay in Hanksville was short.
Travel weary, disappointed and homesick, the family returned to Mount Pleasant in the fall of
1887. Father built a two-room log house with a shingle roof (previous ones were of dirt) in
which the family lived for three years. It was in this home that Anna Cleo was born on April 28,
1888 and two years later Carol Beatrice was born on March 4, 1890.
The only means of support the family had in Mount Pleasant was the various odd jobs Father
could get, such as rough carpentry work, shearing and herding sheep, working at the saw mill or
helping farmers with their crops. Such seasonal and uncertain employment was not enough to
support the fast-growing family, so another move had to be made, this time to Castle Valley,
Utah.
I shall never forget that October morning in 1890 when two wagons loaded with our household
belongings pulled away from the little home my mother had become attached to and stopped in
front of Grandfather Winkler=s place. The James Borg family and other relatives living in Mount
Pleasant had gathered there to say goodbye to us.
Mother said the happiest time of her married life was spent in that little home she was to leave
for it seemed so good to be only three blocks from her loved ones, to visit back and forth and
share in the parties that took place and to be close to home in times of need. To have it end so
soon was another trying experience. She knew what this move meant because of the distance
and the mountain barrier, and she realized that visits back and forth would be almost impossible.
She had the feeling that she would never see some of the folks again.
Years later when recounting these experiences, Mother said that fear, loneliness, worry and an
overwhelming feeling of insecurity would cause her to burst into tears, but it seemed like Pa
could never understand just how she felt. He would only say to Mother, AWhat are you crying
about? Everything=s alright now. No sense in crying.@ Perhaps he was right in assuming that
attitude because it took something besides tears, worry and complaining to accomplish the
mammoth task that faced the family. It was unity of purpose, cooperation, work and prayer that
was needed. She respected Father=s judgment and willingness to put forth every effort to make a
go of things. He was never idle nor was he unkind or disagreeable to live with. He never spent a
penny for useless things nor money to satisfy an appetite for liquor or tobacco as some men did.
His chief concern was the welfare of his family and he never failed to do his very best to achieve
that end. In sickness, in caring for the children or meeting reverses, he was all anyone could
expect in a husband and father.
We had passed Fairview and were well up Fairview Canyon before the effects of the parting had
somewhat worn off. The pleasant sunshine, the cool fall breeze and the brilliant fall colors on
the mountain occupied our attention. We were delayed at Fairview Canyon toll gate for a while
and young Johnny, who was riding on the second wagon driven by Silk Larsen, hoped we would
have to turn back. He was so opposed to our leaving Mount Pleasant.
Before we had reached the head of Huntington Canyon where we camped for the night, the sky
was filled with clouds. The next morning the ground was covered with snow which added to our
anxieties and the hazards of the trip. The road was rough and sometimes it was necessary for us
to travel in the creek bed. The nights were cold and ice was already forming on the stream in
places which made traveling still more unpleasant and dangerous. In the most precarious places
mother walked and carried baby Carol. It took almost three days to reach our destination, Castle
Dale, Utah. All in all, we had traveled a distance of approximately fifty miles.
Until father could complete the log cabin on the Ahomestead@ to house the seven of us, we had to
move in with the Alex Poulson family in Castle Dale. It was from this man that Father
purchased the homestead rights for $100.00 in cash and a new wagon. We had sold our home in
Mount Pleasant to Uncle William Winkler on about the same terms.
The Poulson family shared their two-room home with us. Our family more or less occupied the
kitchen, which had been partitioned off to store the Poulson wheat crop of that season. This left
only enough room for one bedstead and the cooking stove. The bed had to be taken down each
morning to make room for cooking and eating. John and I slept in the grain bin while mother,
father and the three girls slept on the one bed. Each morning father left early to work on the
house and occasionally John and I went with him.
It was near the end of November when mother first saw the Acabin on the farm@ which was to
play such an important part in the rearing of her family and where she would spend so much of
her time.
When we arrived at the homestead late in the afternoon the greasewood covered flat with its
patches of snow and the one-room log house with its dirt roof presented a mighty gloomy
picture. It was very cold. As father chopped wood, we could hear the echo of his blows bounce
off the cliffs of the high bluffs located a few hundred yards to the south of the house. Since this
was our first experience in hearing an echo, we children tried out our voices.
Mother crossed the threshold of her Anew castle@ alone and busied herself making the place ready
for the night. A fire was soon crackling in the fireplace in the east end of the large room and the
dampness of the freshly Adobbed@ spaces between the logs forming the walls soon dried. The
plaster was a mixture of equal parts of sand and clay with enough water to make a thick mud.
This same mixture was used in building the fireplace, which was made up of flat rocks gathered
from nearby hills, and shaped with a hammer and chisel to fit. The trowel father used was
whittled out of a piece of wood.
The dirt roof underwent a true test in the spring when the snow melted and the rains came. It
failed to shield the water. There were not enough buckets, pots or pans placed around the floor
to catch all the drips, so after each storm, we had to mop up half the roof off the floor and put on
a new coat of whitewash to cover up the mud streaks left on the walls. The whitewash was made
of gypsum found in the area.
However, in spite of all the drawbacks, this 160-acre homestead, located four and a half miles
southeast of Castle Dale appeared to father to be a golden opportunity to make a good farm and a
comfortable living for the family. There was plenty of brush-covered land to be cleared and
cultivated and enough water in Rock Canyon Wash to keep it well irrigated. The surrounding
hills offered plenty of forage for grazing purposes, but for mother, it was to be a place of toil and
sacrifice, a barren homestead that offered little else but loneliness, fear, work and worry.
That first night in our new home proved to be a hectic one. No sooner had we retired when an
owl that roosted in the cliffs of the bluff broke the stillness of the night with its weird hoots.
When the moon arose, a pack of hungry coyotes began howling and mother feared for the safety
of the dozen or so Plymouth Rock hens she had brought along from Mount Pleasant. When
morning came it was most welcome, but the scenery it presented made mother=s heart ache. Not
a house in sight, just one small lonely cottonwood tree growing on the bank of the Rock Canyon
Wash. Everywhere she looked, all that could be seen was greasewood brush and ugly, desolate
hills.
The little tree was first discovered by John. Since shade trees were needed around the house, this
tree was dug up and planted about fifty feet south of the front of the house. A day or so later
four other small cottonwood trees were brought from the banks of Ferron River four miles
southeast of our place and planted in a row alongside AJohnny.@ The additional trees were called
AGeorge,@ AGertrude,@ ACleo,@ and ACarol.@ These trees still continue to grow today. Their trunks
are enormous in size and their huge branches seem to be locked together in friendship as if to
defy the burning rays of the summer sun and the icy winds of winter. This was a haven for the
many birds, such as squeakers, robins, orioles, black birds and meadow larks to nest in their
branches.
During our first summer here, 1891, a kitchen, the size of our living room was built to the north
side of the house and a milk cellar was added at the back several years later the dirt roof was
replaced with shingles.
The water for culinary purposes had to be hauled in barrels from the Cottonwood River which
was two miles to the east. The livestock had to be driven there each day to water. It was soon
discovered that the water in Rock Canyon Wash contained too much alkali for the livestock and
it also proved to be worthless for irrigating purposes.
Getting the children to school was a problem as was obtaining help in case of sickness. With
these and many other similar situations confronting us, we made preparations to observe our first
Castle Valley Thanksgiving. Almost a year=s supply of flour, pork, dried fruits and vegetables,
sugar, etc. had been brought with us from Mount Pleasant so we had sufficient food for the
occasion. All members of the family were in good health and there was plenty of wood to keep
the fires burning. Pinion pine for the fireplace and cedar for the cookstove had been hauled from
Cedar Mountain fifteen miles east of the farm.
Christmas was celebrated in pioneer style, too. Strings of freshly popped corn were draped
around the pinion pine Christmas tree and frozen apples dangled from the various branches.
Mother had knit a pair of woolen stockings for each member of the family and these also hung
from the tree. We had plenty of store-bought hard tack candy and peanuts.
Each of the obstacles mentioned previously had to be overcome in order of importance. Water,
the life blood of our existence and the farming enterprise was the first to be considered. This
problem was solved by trading eight head of cattle (the potential of a milk herd) and some cash
for first class water rights in the Bluecut Canal, then digging three miles of new ditch to bring
water to the ranch. Good water, willing hands and hard work made it possible to bring the land
into production. Each succeeding year larger crops were harvested and by 1900, a crop of more
than 3,000 bushels of grain was threshed and over 150-tons of alfalfa hay was stacked during a
single growing season. Carefree management and wise investments increased the milk herd, so
the surrounding hills as father had envisioned paid good dividends in milk and beef. With the
help of the children, mother managed the milk cows and great quantities of butter were made and
sold to help pay school expenses and maintain missionaries.
The family continued to grow. Mother=s desire to have nine children like her mother had done
was more than realized. She bore and reared an even dozen. The children born in the log cabin
on the farm were: Florence Elaine on February 8, 1893; James Lester on September 28, 1895.
Mrs Mary Biddlecome, a neighbor who lived about three miles from us was the midwife for both
confinements. Myrtle Geneva was born December 23, 1897; William Vernon on May 6, 1899;
Ernest Floyd on January 3, 1901; Blenda Lucile on June 25, 1905. Sister Anna Rasmussen, a
midwife from Castle Dale made the exciting four and one-half mile ride to assist. Esther was the
only one of the family born in Castle Dale. She arrived on November 23, 1903 in the new log
house in town and Sister Anna Rasmussen was the midwife at this time also.
Mother proved herself to be capable in handling her various family responsibilities. Most of the
time, there were no doctors to call in case of sickness so mother had to do her own diagnosing,
prescribing, and nursing. Her medicines were principally syrup of figs, castoria, caster oil,
Epsom salt, spirits of turpentine, humbug oil, flax seed poultices, mustard plasters and an
abundance of neighborly advice. Except for a tonsillectomy, a broken arm and a case of typhoid
fever, the services of a doctor were seldom secured, notwithstanding the fact that mother had to
nurse her dozen through the childhood diseases of measles, mumps, scarlet fever, small pox,
influenza and pneumonia.
I recall two particular events regarding neighborly advice during an illness and following an
accident. In March, 1896, an influenza epidemic raged throughout Emery county afflicting many
children, some of whom died. Lester, only six months of age became seriously ill. Silas
McArthur, an old acquaintance from our Mount Pleasant days and who was now living in
Lawrence, Utah came to see us. He told the folks about the large number of children stricken
with the disease in nearby Huntington. As he looked at Lester, he said, AYep! He looks and acts
just like the others,@ then added, AJohn and Lena, if he was my kid, I=d puke him.@ Father asked
how this could be done. McArthur replied, AGive him a tablespoon of salt in some warm water.@
ASi, I can=t do that,@ father said, Ait will pickle the child.@ ADon=t worry about that, John,@ he
replied; Ahe=ll throw it all up.@ About that time, a practical nurse, Mrs. Mary Biddlecome was
consulted and agreed that induced vomiting would be helpful, but that there was a more humane
way of bringing it about.
Later that evening, father administered to baby Lester and along with mother spent a good part of
the night on their knees praying. At day break father set out on foot for Orangeville, located six
miles away to obtain the services of Dr. Moore. It is not important to know whether it was the
treatment recommended by Si McArthur, or Dr. Moore=s vile of medicine which cured the baby.
It is the attitude of mother and father and their expression of gratitude which is worth
remembering when they said, AWe are thankful for Lester=s recovery and more than willing to
give the Lord, Si, Mary Biddlecome, and Dr. Moore due credit, >cause it all helped.@
Another event occurred in Castle Dale late in the fall of 1898 when Geneva had an accident.
Father rented an old two-room home owned by Jacob Fredrickson for us to occupy during the
winter months that year. The roof was made up of layers of cottonwood poles, willows, straw
and dirt while the uneven floors were made of rough lumber which made walking somewhat
difficult. The crudely constructed fireplace was of adobe stone and the flat rock forming the
hearth was uneven. Geneva was just learning to walk and on this occasion as she was toddling
near the fireplace she stumbled on the hearth and landed, hands first, into the fireplace. Luckily,
the fire had died down. Although she was rescued immediately, the hot ashes burned both hands
so severely that we feared they would be permanently crippled. One neighbor advised mother to
soak the hands in cold water, apply Frazer axle grease and then bandage them. When Dr.
Williams Winters, who was out of town when the accident happened, saw her hands a few days
after, each palm was a solid blister. The treatment had been good under the circumstances,
however, he said that axle grease would likely cause infection and recommended that in the
future it would be best to use it for keeping wheels from squeaking. He removed the grease and
applied a more modern and scientific medication for the treatment of burns. As a result, both
hands healed without leaving a scar.
Schooling was a difficult problem during the first few years we lived here. The two older boys,
John and George started to school when they had reached the ages of ten and eight respectively.
They had to ride a horse back and forth each day. That four-and-a-half-mile ride in the dead of
winter over a snow covered road was a rugged ordeal and prompted all kinds of excuses to stay
home. Furthermore, they missed a month of school both in the fall and in the spring to help plant
or harvest the crops. Excessive absence from school put them behind in their classes and their
advancement was more on the social order rather than on academic achievement. Had it not
been for their mother=s help at home they would not have done as well as they did.
Later on, the family moved to town and lived in rented houses during the winter months so that
all the children of school age could attend. A two-room log house with a shingle roof was finally
built on the same block which the schoolhouse stood. As the need for more horse power on the
farm arose it became necessary for father to trade this small home for a Aspan of mares.@ That
same summer, a three-room house was built on the hill two blocks north of the schoolhouse. For
the next several years the family spent the winters in this home and the summers down on the
farm.
The establishment of the Emery Stake Academy in Castle Dale near the turn of the century made
it possible for Cleo, Carol, Florence, Geneva, Esther and Lucile to complete their education
through the twelfth grade. They continued their training at the University of Utah in Salt Lake
City to qualify themselves as school teachers. Later on, Lucile received her Bachelor=s Degree
from this institution and Florence received her Bachelor=s Degree from the Brigham Young
University in Provo, Utah.
Not only was mother interested in having her children continue their schooling, but she also
encouraged them to participate in church work. As a result, four of the children served as
missionaries. George filled a Swiss-German mission; Carol labored in Old Mexico; Florence
served in the Hawaiian Islands; Geneva and her husband were called to preside over the South
African Mission for seven years.
Two children gave services to their country. Lester saw active duty in France during World War
I, and Lucile became a member of the Women=s Army Auxiliary Corps (WAC) for two years
during World War II.
Mother was always able to adjust to existing conditions and make the best of them. Because of
necessity she was willing to forego many conveniences in the home which would have lightened
her own work so that she could support the building up of the farm and stock. She realized the
food for the family had to be produced at home and therefore helped by managing such projects
as a vegetable garden, the milk cows, poultry, a small orchard and an apiary. The routine of
feeding the family each day all year round was a task at which mother proved herself to be quite
proficient. The dried and bottled fruits and vegetables, prepared meats and poultry, chows and
relishes were all a part of her household endeavors.
These prepared foods proved useful when the threshers came. Mother often said that our biggest
food problem was feeding them. They always left the job until the last of the threshing season.
We almost had to beg them to come, then they managed to stay until they had eaten almost
everything. Feeding eight teams of horses and boarding ten hungry men for two or three days or
longer took most of the summers earnings in horse feed and food. She said that the threshers
were her chickens= worst enemy. What the hawks didn=t carry off during the summer, the
threshers ate up in the fall. Yet with all the waiting and trouble the threshers caused, it was
better than the primitive way we began, which was cutting the grain with the scythe and cradle,
then using the flail to thresh it, or spreading the grain onto the hard ground in a circle and riding
the horses around it to tromp the grain out then using the wind-winnowing to separate the grain
from the straw and chaff. With such a tedious routine we thought we would starve before the
first wheat was ready to take to the grist mill to have it ground into flour.
Keeping the family in clothes was another important task. In the earlier years most of the
wearing apparel was made at home. Many yards of blue denim were purchased and stitched up
into overalls and shirts for the boys. Ginghams, outing flannels and calico were purchased by the
bolt to make shirts, underwear, dresses and aprons as the need arose. The old AMinnesota@
sewing machine was seldom idle. Skeins of yarn of various kinds and colors were knit into
stockings. The girls soon learned the arts of knitting, darning and operating the sewing machine
and were a great help to mother in keeping the family in stockings and clothing. In spite of all
mother had to do she never failed to have each of the girls decked out in a pretty new dress for
Christmas and the Fourth of July. The boys were equally well-dressed.
Although the demands of farm life required mother to perform many menial tasks, she certainly
must not be regarded as a woman who was incapable of doing anything but physical labor.
Mother possessed great mental capabilities and was very spiritually minded. Good common
sense was one of her special gifts as was her ability to choose values. She appreciated good
literature as well as other fine arts. She was a good reader and whenever time would permit, she
read to become better informed. She encouraged her children to make good use of their
opportunities - to study and gain knowledge and to develop their talents and make good use of
them; to prepare themselves to use their heads and not depend on their hands only in making a
living. She often said she didn=t want her children to slave as their father and she had been
compelled to do in order to make a living.
Mother had pride in her personal appearance. Her long, beautiful, brown, natural wavy hair was
always combed and styled with a bun effect on top of her head. She made her own dresses
which were always clean and fresh looking. She also took pride in keeping her home clean. The
cabin floors were scrubbed so often that eventually the knots in the floor boards stood out like
the warts on a horny toad.
It can rightfully be said that mother’s first love of the fine arts was music, both instrumental and
vocal. These were refined traits she inherited from her parents. Grandfather Winkler was a fine
singer and he also played the guitar and clarinet. He was a member of Swiss male quartet in
Mount Pleasant, which was featured often at parties, church functions and civic gatherings.
Gilbert Winkler spoke of this quartet in this rhyme: AHessler, Winkler, Hafen, Rush; their wives
and kids, the whole Dutch push.@ Mother taught us to sing and to recite poetry, always
encouraging us to prepare ourselves to take part in church and social functions.
The musical instruments that came to the Jorgensen home, in order, were the harmonica, a
zyther, an organ and the piano. The girls learned to play the latter two instruments and one of
them, Carol, become an accomplished musician, giving great service to the public, her ward and
stake as an organist.
Father could make a jew=s-harp hum and could sing very well. His tenor voice and mothers rich
alto made a fine duet and the children joining them added volume if not harmony. Some favorite
songs were: AHome Sweet,@ APulling Hard Against the Steam,@ AOh Hard Times Come Again No
More,@ ABy the Old Mill In the Valley,@ ALittle Brown Jug,@ AOh Father, Dear, Come Home,@ etc.
We also enjoyed singing the church hymns.
Uncle Herman Winkler joined the family circle in the fall of 1891 and stayed with us for over a
year. He came from Grass Valley in Sevier County and brought his cattle along with those father
had acquired while the family was living there. Uncle Herman=s fine voice and guitar was in
great demand and made our home and our home evenings a joy. He not only played the guitar
with skill but he could entertain with song and readings. The George Kofford family lived on the
Paradise Ranch on the Ferron River about six miles south of us. They were frequent visitors at
our home and would sometimes stretch their stays for two of three days. Their four children
were about the same ages as the oldest of our family so they fit in very well and we became life
long friends. George Kofford was a good entertainer and his wife, Josephine was an excellent
cook. Our Apow-wows@ as George Kofford called these visits were occasions to which we all
looked forward, especially those held on the Paradise Ranch when the water was turned out of
the irrigating ditch. This made it possible to catch the stranded suckers and white fish and
prepare them for a delicious dinner.
Members of the Winkler family living in Mt. Pleasant who visited with us during the early years
besides Uncle Herman were uncles William, Gilbert, Ernest, and John; Aunt Amanda and Aunt
Mary. They all added color and fun to the home evenings. Uncle John Hasler made the long
drive to Castle Valley in a one-horse buggy. He stayed at the ranch only a few hours, then left in
tears. He was utterly disappointed with the farm and the conditions under which we were living
and urged that we move Aback home@ to live. He even preferred to take mother and the baby
(Carol) back with him in the buggy and suggested that father follow with the rest of the children
in the wagon. However, too much effort had gone into making our home here to consider
another move.
It was impossible for father and mother to leave the farm at the same time, except perhaps for a
day. Father returned to Mount Pleasant on several occasions through the years to visit the folks.
He often took two or three of the children with him as they could be spared. Some had to remain
home to help mother. She would never assume the responsibility of taking some of the older
children and drive a team across the mountains to Mount Pleasant, and so she didn=t see her
father and other members of the family for fourteen years.
On March 3, 1904, early in the morning, we received word from the folks in Mount Pleasant
concerning Grandfather Winkler who had suffered a stroke. The message urged mother and her
family to go there immediately if they wished to see him alive. The road to Castle Dale over the
mountain during this time of year was closed due to heavy snow. So, mother and father traveled
to Helper, Utah by team where they boarded the train that took them to Mount Pleasant. They
arrived one day later, shortly before grandfather passed away. Since he was already in a coma,
he could not recognize or speak to them.
All of grandfather=s living children by his first wife, Maria Thalmann, attended his funeral
services on March 6, 1904. This occasion brought him five oldest children B Lena, Herman,
William, Gilbert, and Ernest together for the first time in twenty years. A group picture was
taken of them. Also attending the services were children by his second wife, Roselena Larson B
Amanda and John, and those of his third wife, Lena Hafen Fowles, and their children B Wilford,
Mary, Leah and Montel.
The Jorgensen homestead was located at what was considered to be the Acrossroads.@ The
Spanish Trail came through Salina Canyon and through Emery County to the Jorgensen Ranch
and continued eastward across the Buck Horn Flat to the crossing of the Green River. It was the
route taken by part of the Johnson Army when it was called back east at the outbreak of the Civil
War. The road or trail from Castle Dale to the grazing lands of the San Rafael River, the Sinbad,
the Robber=s Roost and the East Desert crossed the Spanish Trail at the J-Ranch. Sheepmen,
cattlemen, horsemen, prospectors or fugitives seeking a rendezvous at the Robber=s Roost came
our way. Whoever came by and asked for a Abite to eat@ found mother to be a charitable friend.
Her problem was to identify the good from the bad, and she lived in constant fear of feeding the
undeserving. The following stories are good examples of her hospitality.
In the fall of 1894, members of the Mount Pleasant Militia ate breakfast at the ranch. The Militia
was hunting for Jim Michel (Michelson) and Moan Kofford, both of Spring City, Utah who were
accused of murdering James Burns, the Sheriff of Sanpete County, and a resident of Mount
Pleasant. The two fugitives and other members of their party had passed the J-Ranch at midnight
only eight hours before the Militia arrived. The hunted were headed for the Robber=s Roost
county and made good their escape. The Militia wanted to settle for bread and milk for
breakfast, but mother insisted that they have ham and eggs too.
On another occasion, about five years before the turn of the century, an elderly man and his
young son stopped at the ranch and asked for lodging for a few days. They were searching for
$40,000 in gold which was supposed to have been hidden somewhere along the Spanish Trail.
Their description of the hiding place corresponded with the countryside in the vicinity of our
ranch. They said the gold, belonging to the U.S. Government, was being transported by team
from the gold fields of California to Washington, D.C. The party had been attacked by Indians
and, in order to prevent them from taking the gold, it was hidden. The elderly searcher indicated
that his uncle had been in charge of the shipment and had made a sketch of the hiding place. The
uncle continued the journey East, expecting to return and recover the treasure when it was safe to
travel. However, he became ill and died, leaving the sketch of the hiding place to the searcher.
The treasure hunter=s request for lodging was granted, but not on the strength of his story. Father
and mother let the story go into one ear and out the other, but, to their two older sons, it sounded
as good as riches hidden on some island by pirates.
When the Indians migrated from the southern part of Utah to the Uintah Reservation, they too
followed the Spanish Trail. This Ute Indian migration took place in the early 1890's. It was in
the fall and the Indians traveled in their conventional way with saddle ponies, pack horses and
travois. The families varied in age from the very old to the young papooses neatly tucked in the
Tikenegan on their mothers= backs.
Only one of the Indians came to the house. We had killed a beef the day before and meat had
been sold. The suet from the beef was still on a table outside the house and the Indian saw it and
asked if he could have it. His request was granted. He then asked for coffee which was also
prepared for him. He then proceeded to eat the suet raw and washed it down with hot, black
coffee. When he had satisfied his appetite he rolled the rest of the suet in his pack and tied it to
his saddle. Then, using a rock for a pillow, he lay down and went to sleep. When he awoke he
was in a Atrading mood.@ He came into the house, spotted mother=s favorite multi-colored pieced
top-quilt and offered his brilliant blue Indian blanket for it. In order to get rid of the Indian,
father sanctioned the trade much to mother=s objection. When the victorious Indian rode away,
mother thought about the lice the blanket might have in it and proceeded to wash and boil it.
This caused the blanket to lose its brilliant color and shrink to half its original size. As a result,
father got a saddle pad for the blanket.
Devastating floods were a constant menace to ditches, dams and crops and there was no way of
controlling them. The worst and most destructive of the floods came down the Rock Canyon
Wash in October, 1900 and ruined twenty acres of oats which had just been cut the previous day.
Some of the grain had been shocked up, but most of it was still lying on the ground as it had been
dumped from the binder. These bundles were all washed away. Those standing in the shocks
were half buried in mud and could only be used for feeding the stock. This flood reached from
the base of the bluffs a quarter of a mile away to the doorstep of our house. The roar and stench
of the flood was frightening.
Sometime later, another flood came down the wash and gave us a greater scare, but there was no
damage done to the crops or the stock. The milk cows were grazing on the hills south of the
farm and no one could cross the wash to bring them to the corral for the evening milking. The
bellowing of the calves brought the cows to the edge of the wash opposite from the corral, but
they would not cross it. Father decided to mount his tallest and strongest horse and bring the
cows to the corral. He had to go downstream a half a mile where the wash was wide in order to
cross it. He had no saddle and the horse=s back was a little sharp for comfort, so mother let him
have one of her good quilts to ride on. We watched him ride the half mile and finally disappear
at the crossing. A little while later, the mud-covered horse returned alone to the corral. We
watched for a few tense moments for father to come and finally mother and I went to see what
had happened to him. At the crossing, we could see the horse tracks where it had entered the
flood and where it came back out again, but there was no sign of horse tracks on the opposite
side of the wash, nor could we see father=s footsteps. We were horrified at the thought that father
might be caught in the flood. We scanned the hills as far as we could see and looked up and
down the wash, but to no avail. Finally, mother said, AIt=s no use, he=s gone. What on earth will
we do without him?@ We started back to the house, but only went a short distance when we
stopped for another look. To our happy surprise, there he was in the hills downstream from the
crossing.
When mother and I got back to the bank of the wash where we could be heard, she shouted,
AWhat in sam-hill were you doing way out there in the hills?@ Father shouted back his story. He
told us the horse had made it across the flood alright, but, when it tried to get out on the other
side, it got tangled up in the mud and fell. It fell against the bank and father got off without
getting wet, but the quilt had slid off the horse into the water and was carried away. He followed
it downstream to the breaks, but couldn=t get quite close enough to grab it, so he gave up trying
to retrieve it. He cut across the hills to get back to where the cows were. He drove the cows into
the flood and they swam to safety. However, father could not make it across. Since it was late
and the sun had already gone down, father took off through the hills to the west and spent the
night with the Chris Larsen family about three miles away.
Problems with raising livestock seemed to plague father and mother all their married lives and
mother was always there to lend a helping hand to save the animals from dying. The first tragic
event of this nature that I recall took place in Mount Pleasant at Grandfather Winkler=s in the fall
of 1890, about two weeks before we moved to Castle Valley. I was six years old at the time.
Father and mother had borrowed a little roan milk cow with the hope that they could purchase it
as soon as funds were available. Since they did not have a herd of their own, this cow was put
out to pasture along with Grandfather Winkler=s herd of milk cows. Although the fields had been
harvested, there was still a great amount of alfalfa growing for the cows to feast upon. Mother
happened to be visiting at the Winkler home with Grandmother Lena Fowles Winkler
(grandfather=s third wife) and Aunt Louise Hassler (grandfather=s sister-in-law) who had also
stopped by for a visit. When the cows had been herded into grandfather=s corrals that day, it was
discovered that the little roan cow had become bloated and would have to be Astuck@ in order to
save it. Apparently, Aunt Louise was the only one in the group who knew how this was done.
She instructed father to plunge a butcher knife into the cow at a precise point by measuring one
hand from the back bone and one hand forward from the point of the left hip bone. Grandfather
misjudged the measurement and the knife struck into a bone and broke the blade. By the time
they obtained another knife, the cow died. Mother wept because she did not know how they
were going to replace the borrowed cow, let alone get milk for the family. However,
Grandfather Winkler came to their aid in supplying the milk for the family. Little did mother
realize that this was just the beginning of similar adversities.
Cattle diseases, range losses caused from poisoning, alfalfa bloating, miring in quicksand along
the creek bottoms, straying away or being driven away by Acattle rustlers@ were just a few of the
heartaches mother and father experienced.
One costly loss happened one time when the family was celebrating July 24th in Castle Dale.
Eight head of two-year old steers father was fattening to sell for tax money got out of the corral
and, when the folks returned home in the evening, they found them all dead in the alfalfa field.
On another occasion, an epidemic of black-leg struck the herd and took the cream of the crop
that year. Larkspur poisoning on the summer range caused many losses the folks could not
afford, but they always had the courage to take those losses in stride and look for the dawning of
a brighter day.
It wasn=t until the close of World War I that father and mother began to ease up on some of the
laborious work on the farm. When Lester returned home from active duty on the front lines in
France, he immediately began to change the methods of farming, stock raising, and dairying.
One of these changes was that of driving the young calves and the milk cows from the pastures
onto the mountains. This left mother without milk to churn into butter to sell. When Lester
returned a few days later, mother said to him, AHello, big Indian. I see you=re back.@ He replied,
AWhy big Indian?@ ABecause,@ she said, Ano one but a big Indian would take the liberty of
driving off someone else=s cows.@
Shortly after that, Lester and the two youngest brothers, Vernon and Floyd, took over the
responsibilities on the ranch so that mother and father could begin to enjoy more comfortable
living.
They moved to town and occupied the brick bungalow they had purchased several years prior to
this time. It was located on main street and was their home for the remaining ten or eleven years
of their lives. (This home still stands and is now owned and occupied by a grandson and his
family.) By now, all the children were grown and most of them were married; others had left
Castle Dale to continue schooling or seek employment elsewhere.
Mother and father bought their first automobile, a Buick, to replace their horse and buggy.
Father had received a pension for service during the Black Hawk War, so this provided a little
extra money for gasoline and car repairs as the need arose. They enjoyed trips to Yellowstone
National Park, Colorado, California, Zion=s National Park and other points of interest in Utah.
Quite often they were accompanied by some of their children and grandchildren. They also
visited relatives in Mount Pleasant and attended conventions and parties sponsored by the Black
Hawk Veterans.
Living in town made it possible for both mother and father to become more active in church
work, something they had been unable to do until now. Father was president of the Elder=s
Quorum for a few years and later was ordained a High Priest. He especially enjoyed his Ward
Teaching assignments. Mother was a member of the Relief Society Presidency for a number of
years, where she gave untiring service caring for the sick, assisting the poor, making quilts,
preparing food for banquets and other fund-raising activities associated with Relief Society work
at that time. She was also a charter member of the Daughters of the Utah Pioneers and held
various offices in this organization.
Mother had enjoyed good health most of her life, except for a thyroid (goiter) condition which
caused her considerable discomfort and worry at times. She often treated herself by painting her
neck with iodine, as suggested by Dr. William Winters. The neck had become somewhat bulged
and this treatment possibly helped in keeping the size of it minimized. As the condition
worsened some years later, the family urged her to go the Price, Utah where she could be treated
by Dr. John C. Hubbard, who had made this Adisease@ one of his fields of specialization. He
discovered that one of the reasons for her illness at this time was that she had developed a very
serious heart ailment along with high blood pressure. She was given medication and confined to
bed at the home of her daughter, Esther J. Maynard. However, she was not happy at the
prospects of remaining here in bed since she had always been so active. She also missed father
very much and yearned to be back home with him in Castle Dale. After one week, she slipped
into a coma and never regained consciousness. She passed away on October 3, 1931 at the age
of sixty-nine.
All twelve of her children were still living at the time of her death and all of them attended her
funeral held at Castle Dale, October 6, 1931 except for her daughter, Geneva, who, with her
family was still in South Africa fulfilling a mission for the church.
The speakers at mother=s funeral praised her for her accomplishments as a mother and for the
success she had attained in getting all of her children trained to take their place in society as
useful men and women. They pointed out that none of them had been in trouble with the law in
any way. Hence, they were all good citizens, gainfully employed, and, like their parents, were
honest and paid their debts.
The author who coined the phrase, AThat Wonderful Mother of Mine, expresses my heartfelt
sentiments and love for the one who was responsible for making possible my mortal existence.
As I look back and count the years that I was privileged to live in the humble home she helped to
make, and partake of the bounteous blessings in the care, food, clothing and wise guidance she
so generously gave, and recount the hardships she endured; the days and nights of toil; visualize
again her ability to turn reverses into blessings and to work valiantly in spite of the barriers
placed in her way, my heart swells with pride, for here is a mother who exemplified in her
everyday living the teachings of the Master. Her sound judgment, her great wisdom, her
unbounded love, her patience to wait and work things out are contributions of the greatest worth
and will always be remembered by those who call her Mother. It is such as she who have helped
to dignify honest work, glorify faith and courage and to give love its full meaning.
George Edgar Jorgensen
December, 1970
No comments:
Post a Comment