LATTER DAY SAINT BISHOPS UP UNTIL (circa 1965)

 

 

SCOUTING ON THE SKYLINE ~~~ JAMES L. JACOBS

 

 James L. Jacobs

1052 Darling Street

Ogden, Utah 84403

Senior Citizen Division

Second Place Historical Essay

Boy Scout camping trips were never better than those we Scouts

of Mt. Pleasant enjoyed in the mountains east of town in 1920 and

1922, The five-day trips each August were filled with high adven-

- ture and great scouting activities. Hiking, swimming, fishing,

nature study, games and sports, and practicing Scout lore in a

choice mountain setting were thrilling amd stimulsting.

The first trip included thirty-two Scouts of Troop 1 - the

North Ward boys - and a mumber of men officiating. Soren M.

Nielsen was scoutmaster and Ray Riley was his assistant. Daniel

Rasmussen of the stake presidency, Bishop H. C. Jacobs, and several

other men assisted with the trip.

Teans and wagons to haul us and our gear to canp were furnished

at no cost by Joseph Seely, Daniel Rasmussen and Amasa Scovil.

We rode in the wagons on our bedrolls and tents by way of North

Creek to our camp. We walked up all the steep hills to spare the

horses.

Canp was set up on Hog Flat - a rich mountain meadow surrounded

by a forest of spruce, fir and aspen trees. Tents were pitched

on the fringe of the forest. "Pine bough beds" were made of evergreen

tranches piled deep, with the tender tips up to meke spr'ngy

and fragrant mattresses. Clear spring water, abundant firewood,

colorful wildflowers, fresh mountain air and scenery, lush fordge

for horses, and stately trees made an ideal setting for the camp.

Cleveland Reservoir furnished excellent swimming, a five-mimite

walk away. Log seats were placed around a fireplace circle where

campfire programs were held. The camp was named “Camp Heber J.

- Grant® to honor the Church President.

A bugle call at six each morning summoned everyone to a flagraising

ceremony to start the day's activities. These were carefully

planned to promote scouting principles and provide enjoyment

to all who participated.

On Tuesday a hike was made to the top of Seely Mountain..

re we repeated the scout oath, law, and motto while we viewed

the beauties of the mountains. On Wednesday we visited the Larsen

coal mine and had scouting lessons on the mine dump. Everyone went

fishing on Thursday and caught speckled trout in the mountain streanms.

On Friday we returned home by way of Gooseberry ana Fairview Canyon.

o

Each day we studied hard to learn more about scouting and

qualify for advancement in the scouting program. Twenty-five of

the boys passed tests to make them tenderfoot scouts, and several

achieved second class rank.

Both Troop 1 and Troop 2 from the South Ward participated in

the 1922 trip. Many brought their fathers along, so there were 65

boys and men in the party. J. Seymour Jensen served as camp director,

Harold Oliverson was scoutmaster of Troop 1 With Evan Madsen

as assistant; Calvin Christensen was scoutmaster of Troop 2 with

Marvin Anderson as assistant. Frank Bohne was chief cook, Harry

Ericksen was butcher, and R. W. Weech was photographer, Additional

teams and wagons were furnished by Bruce Seely, Byron Hampshire and 9

Clair Jacobsen.

Some of the boys in the party, identified from a photograph

were; Nelson Aldrich, Ray Aldrich, Waldo Barton, Willie Barton,

Elvin Bills, Ray Bohne, Allie Christensen, Barl Christensen, Theodore

Christensen, Robert Ericksen, Boyd Hafen, Lynn Jensen, Ray

Jorgénsen, James Jacobs, Ralph Jacobsen, Kemnis Johansen, Floyd

Larson, Evan McArthur, Chesley Norman, Arley Munk, Nathan Nielson,

Edgar Olsen, Owen Olsen, Paul Rasmussen, Paul Reynolds, Theodore

Reynolds, William Reynolds, John Rosenberg, Carlton Seely, Ray

Seely, Theron Seely, Clayton Sorenson, Miles Sorenmson, Gordon Staker,

Charles Wall, Wendell Wall, Aristol White and Perry Wright.

We were organized into patrols of eight Scouts each. The

patrols competed with each other in learning scout lore, in passing

advancement tests, in games and sports, and in giving stunts at

the evening campfire programs. The patrols were named for animals

or birds. I was a member of the Beaver patrol, amd we worked like

the beavers we were to be the best patrol in camp.

To qualify for tenderfoot rank the Scouts had to know the

scout law; oath, sign, salute, motto, care and history of the U.S.

flag, and tle nine required knots. When one of the boys learned

to tie the difficult carrick band knot, he danced around the camp

chanting repeatedly, "I can tie the carrick band."

We also learned safety rules, first aid to the injured, signalling

by Morse code, semaphore and wigwag, how to use knife and

axe properly, to cook on a campfire, to read maps and to use a

compass. «

Forest Ranger Merrill Nielson, who was statloned at nearby

Lake Ranger Station, and Deputy Forest Supervisor Serrin Van Boskirk

took us on a nature hike and taught us to identify many native

plants. I still remember the beautiful columbine, bluebell, paintbrush,

elderberry, wild geraniun, niggerhead, and the names of the

trees in the forest. These men also showed us how to fight and

prevent forest fires, and to keep from getting lost in the woods.

Food never tasted so good. Cook Frank Bohne and his helpers

were experts at preparing camp meals. They served mutton we got

from a nearby sheep herd, beans, potatoes, and all the trimmings,

including gallons of dixie molasses we spread on bread for dessert.

We ate each meal like it was to be our last one.

Swinming in Cleveland reservoir was a special delight and we

21l swan every day in our birthday sults. Swimming races were held,

and some of the boys passed tests for advancement, including quali-

. fying for swimming merit badges.

There was one crisis. Senior Patrol Leader Theodore Christensen

supervised the boys while they were swimming. One of the swim-

- mers came running up to Theodore with tears streaming down his cheeks

and cried, “We can't find Paul anywhere. He must have drowned."

There was a frantic, fruitless search for the missing boy, then the

boys were ordered to dress and return to camp. There in his tent,

on his pine bough bed, Paul was found peacefully sleeping.

Foot-races were held daily on the smooth slope of the reservoir

just above the water level, which made an ideal racetrack. A

baseball game was played with the boys against their fathers, and

the boys won by a small margin. We leaped and rolled and tunbled

in a large sawdust pile which had been left by an old sawmill.

After supper each night everyone gathered around the campfire

for a program. There were stories and recitations, appropriate

talks by the leaders, and peppy stunts acted out by the patrols.

But the part T enjoyed most was the lusty singing of songs. We

sang patriotic songs, church hynns, and many of the lively songs

fron the Boy Scout Songbook. We always bellowed forth our favorite

ditty, which ran something like this:

 

ASPEN GRAFFITTI ~~ James L. Jacobs

 

The white trunks of aspen trees growing along roadsides in the mountains east of Sanpete Valley are covered with names and other graffiti carved by knives of former visitors. People who traveled or worked there seemed to have had an irresistible urge to establish their status by leaving their names displayed on these stately and attractive trees for future visitors to see.

When trees were properly carved, the knife cuts were formed into black scars that remained in vivid contrast to the snow-white bark for the lifetime of the tree. If cuts were too shallow, the tree healed them up so no scar was left. Some inexperienced carvers had cut channels clear through the bark down to the wood, and these caused such large scars that the carvings were almost illegible. But most carvings were made properly by competent and experienced carvers so the carvings became permanent and attractive.

In the early 1900’s all travel was by horseback or horse drawn vehicles, which was slow enough to give travelers ample time to observe and reflect on the great collection of carvings they found on the trees. There was also time to add one’s own name while the horses were resting or while they were stopped for lunch.

The names of entire families, father, mother and children, were often left on trees as evidence that they had been in the mountains. A family trip to visit a sheep herding father or to fish in the mountain streams made it possible for them to record their names on the biggest tree they could find. In areas most frequented by people, tree trunks were so covered with carvings that there was scarcely any bare surface left within reach.

Carvings varied as widely as the people who made them. Most names were formed of large block letters, but there were many styles, kinds and sizes of name carving. Some names were made in beautiful script instead of the usual printed letters. Lon Larsen was one who used uniform, flowing longhand made with real artistic quality.

Another who left his name in fine script was Orange A. Olsen, a Forest Service officer who has a ranger station named for him in Joe’s Valley on the Manti Forest. Most carvers were content to leave only their names or initials, but some added their addresses and the dates the carvings were made. The oldest I recall was dated 1890, while other dates showed continuous carvings from then right up to the time I herded sheep, from 1922 to 1927. Many indulged their artistic talents by carving a wide variety of pictures which included everything from horseshoes to teepees, houses, snakes and human hands.

There were more pictures of people than anything else, especially voluptuous ladies and virile men, and many likenesses of horses, bears, and various other animals.  Many sentiments were expressed in messages left for future visitors to see. Some of these read, “All sheepherders are crazy,” “Hate these blatting woollies,” “Lonesome Joe,” “Killed a bear.” In one area there were many short poetic verses, most of which were somewhat ribald in character. Some carvers thought it smart to counterfeit the names of well-known celebrities, so when one found “Daniel Boone,” “Tom Mix,” or “Woodrow Wilson,” it was understood these had been faked and were not authentic signatures.

During the years I herded sheep I was fascinated with the carvings, most of which had been made by sheepherders. In the long summer days, sheep shaded up from mid-morning until late afternoon, leaving the herders free for many hours in the middle of the day. So what could occupy their time better than tree carving! Andrew Tidwell was the most prolific carver of all the sheepherders on the north end of the mountain. He sometimes carved his full name in large letters, but at other times he shortened it to “A. Tid.” But in most places only his initials were found, on hundreds of trees along roads and trails and back in the boondocks where only sheepmen and hunters usually go. No one filled up a tree trunk like he did. He would ride his horse up to a tall tree, stand up in the saddle and carve “AT” as high on the tree as he could reach, then place another initial under that one and repeat it all the way down to the ground. I counted 28 “AT” initials in a column on one tree, and there were many more like it.

 The regular camping places where sheep camps were located year after year where known by well established names, many of which were carved on trees at the camps. “Little Bear,” “Beer Spring,” “The Jumpoff,” were some of the names. But “Honeymoon Camp” was my favorite. It was so named because a sheepherder once took his bride there right after they were married. It was an ideal place to spend a honeymoon and get a sheepherder’s salary at the same time. But there was a problem. The bunk on which the honeymooners slept was made of aspen poles with rawhide strips crisscrossing each other for a mattress. The groom had slept alone all his life, and it was difficult for him to get any rest cuddled in the arms of his affectionate bride. After several restless nights, the groom solved the problem. While the bride was not looking, he tightened the leather strip running down the center of the bunk. This raised a slight ridge down the middle with depressions on each side. Thereafter when the bride fell asleep, the cuddling was ended as she slipped of the ridge onto her side of the bed, and the groom slept soundly on his side, happily remote from her cuddling arms.

To relieve their loneliness, herders would often ride to the neighboring camps to visit and have dinner together. On Sundays two or three herders would catch a mess of trout and have a joint fish fry at one of the camps. It was customary for all to leave their names at all camps. I once wrote down the names on the trees at Harve Spring Camp. These were: Lynn Averett, Wenzel Brewer, Dan Christensen, James Jacobs, Loftin Johnson, Lon Larsen, Hans Lund, Howe Lund, Ray Lund, Bruce Madsen, Chet Mills, Liandro Serrano, Andrew Tidwell, Kenneth Tidwell, Aurel Winkler, Montel Winkler, Owen Winkler, Irl Wilson, Peter Woolsey and Shirley Zabriskie.

Not all aspen graffiti were manmade; bears also left their marks. It was rumored that a bear would claim his home territory by reaching high on a tree and marked the bark with his claws to show that this area was owned by a large bear. I doubted this, but I did see hundreds of trees deeply marked by the claws of bears that had climbed them. There were then very many bears in the mountains. A marauding bear ran amuck in the sheep I was herding one night and killed or mortally wounded 42 sheep on their bed ground. We  used bear grease rendered from bear fat to keep our shoes oiled. Sam Pierce was employed as a bear hunter and killed more than 100 bears in 1916 on the Manti Forest area.

Most carvers left their names on many trees, but two men told me they had each carved their names only once. One was Ernest Winkler, whose name I found near Commissary Spring where he had carved it as a boy. The other was James Larsen, whose one carving was in a grove of trees on top of the mountain. He carved this while his sheep were marooned in deep snow from a severe early fall storm, and he was waiting for help to rescue them. A team of horses dragged a fir tree through the snow to make a trail the sheep could follow off the mountain, strung out in single file.

Recently I found a forgotten carving of my own name on a tree near Silver Creek. With it was the date, “Sept. 9, 1924,” and the comment, “114 fish.” I remembered carving this on my way home to attend school after herding sheep since early May. Another herder and I had gone fishing before I left the herd. The legal limit was then thirty fish per day with two day’s limit allowed in possession. I was bringing home, packed in grass in a gunny sack tied behind my saddle, my sixty fish and those the other herder was sending home. So the “144 fish” were six fish short of the 120 we were entitled to.

The tree carvings gave a taste of history to visitors at a time when the leisurely pace of horse travel made it possible to see and admire them. Now that motor vehicles whisk people through groves of trees so rapidly, they do not take time to observe and add to the carvings as they did sixty years ago. And many people contend the carvings destroy the beauty of the picturesque aspen trees. So the day of the popularity of aspen graffiti is past.

THEY LOVED THEIR BIKUBEN

 

Originally shared by Sam Stewart 

James L. Jacobs

Senior Citizen Division, Second Place Anecdote

The Bikuben Club met every Thursday in the lobby of the Mt. Pleasant Post Office during the 1920's.

These were the older Danish immigrants who never learned to read English or who preferred to read the news

in THE BIKUBEN, their own Danish language weekly newspaper which came in Thursday's mail. They loved this

newspaper and were always there to get it promptly every Thursday.

The club included Charley Shoemaker (Charles C. E. Petersen), Chris Cottonwood (Christian

Rasmussen), Pete Poker (Peter M. Jensen), and others. They visited while the incoming mall was being sorted.

As soon as the general delivery window was opened, one of them came to the window and asked, "Ska da

Bikuben heah? " When his Bikuben was handed to him, his face lighted up with a happy smile. About 50

subscribers lived in Mt. Pleasant at that time.

The Bikuben was published in Salt Lake City by the L. D. S. Church for more than 59 years for the

benefit of its Danish converts. When the Danes passed on and the subscription list dwindled, publication was

suspended in 1935.

I never knew what Bikuben meant. In downtown Copenhagen I was amazed to find on a large building

a sign BIKUBEN with an old style beehive at each end of the sign similar to the one on the masthead of the

Bikuben newspaper and the seal of the State of Utah. I went inside and found that this was a large bank and

that Bikuben means beehive or bee cabin. This is a symbol of industry in both Denmark and Utah. Then I

realized why the newspaper had been named Bikuben.

Back in Mt. Pleasant I talked with families of former Bikuben subscribers. All of them remembered the

newspaper, but no one I found knew that Bikuben means beehive.

Source: Early Utah Journalism by J. Cecil Alter

Personal recollections of the author.

Saga of the Sanpitch 1982 p58

More about Bikuben here: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045033/

More References to the Mormon Bikuben

Andrew Jensen and the Mormon Bikuben (Beehive)

Andrew immigrated with his family to the United States in 1866. His journey by ship and across the plains is one of the unique recordings of such an experience by a teenage boy. One of the most poignant experiences he recalled years later was the hunger that he faced in the journey. He was reminiscing with a Mr. William H. Jackson, who as a young boy had traveled east from Salt Lake City. Jackson followed behind a wagon load of apples and ate apples until he couldn’t lift another one. Andrew replied, “Yes, I know. . . . Here it is in my journal, the record of coming along the next day. I was a hungry youth of 15, and I saw those peelings. You mayn’t believe it, but I collected all the peelings I could find, and ate them. They were pretty thin, but they tasted mighty good to me then.”[5]

The Jensons settled in Pleasant Grove, Utah, where young Andrew took up many occupations to sustain himself and assist in supporting his family. Although he preferred study to hard manual labor, he was forced to work as a farmhand, a railroad construction crew laborer, and a cowboy. His journal provides an excellent description of a nineteenth-century cattle drover.[6]

At age twenty-two Elder Andrew Jenson was called on his first of ten missions for the Church. The call was to his native Denmark. While on this mission his interest in producing historical works was further intensified. He began by writing a history of the Aalborg Conference. “And so that is how I came to myself, and found myself walking in the Aalborg Conference, preaching and commencing my historical career.”[7]

After his return home, he married and began his family. To support his new family he continued to perform manual labor, which proved very unsatisfactory. He had learned from experience that farming was not his natural vocation and that he was not gifted in doing mechanical work as was his father. From his youth he “had been of a studious nature,” particularly fascinated by the reading and writing of history. As he meditated and prayed about his future, the thought came to him “as if by direct inspiration from heaven” to continue the work that he had contemplated, to translate certain portions of the history of Joseph Smith into Danish. He called his new workJoseph Smith Levnetsløb.[8]

Thus began a new and lifetime career of translating and writing the history of the Church. Because of the limited funds of the Danish Saints, Jenson was forced to publish his literary venture in serialized form, selling the weekly series to his subscribers. Only after the entire series was completed would he then have the series bound into a single volume. This pattern of publishing his history would continue throughout his life, since he financed almost all of his historical works himself. Only near the end of his life did the Church assist in financing his works.

From this modest beginning his historical works started to increase greatly. His next work was to assist in the publication of the Danish-Norwegian paper Bikuben (Beehive). This work was interrupted by another call to a mission in Denmark. While there, following the death of the mission president, Andrew served as president for a brief period of time. Following his return, Jenson continued his work in providing Scandinavian Latter-day Saints with the history of the Church by publishing Morgenstjernen (Morning Star). As was his first venture, this work was possible because he sold subscriptions in advance of publication. Although sales ofMorgenstjernen grew steadily, it was not enthusiastically received by all the Scandinavian Saints.  https://rsc.byu.edu/archived/supporting-saints-life-stories-nineteenth-century-mormons/4-andrew-jenson-zealous-chronolog


DANISH IMMIGRATION AND LIFE IN UTAH
Denmark supplied more immigrants to Utah in the nineteenth century than any other country except Great Britain. Most of these Danes--nearly 17,000--were converts to the LDS Church, heeding an urgent millennialistic call to gather to "Zion."
Generally, Danes were relatively slow to respond to the enticements of America. But the stirrings of the revolutionary year 1848 left Denmark with a liberal constitution (1849) providing for freedom of religion, without the repressive backlash that numbed much of the rest of Europe. This was fertile soil for Mormon proselytizing, initiated in 1850 by Erastus Snow and three fellow believers--a Dane, a Swede, and an American. Benefiting from religious awakenings kindled by Baptists, Methodists, and reformers within the Lutheran state church, the Latter-day Saints also moved forward on their own in less-traveled byways, particularly in northern Jutland. A key to their success was the cadre of enthusiastic young local recruits--many of them journeyman artisans--who soon devoted their full energy to proclaiming the Mormon message. A significant part of that message was the doctrine of the gathering. Thus Danish Latter-day Saints were in the vanguard of emigration from their homeland to the United States.
Danish emigration to Utah began January 31, 1852, when a group of nine Mormons left Copenhagen for Hamburg, continued by steamer to England, and eventually sailed from Liverpool with nineteen additional Danes who joined them there under the leadership of Erastus Snow. Arriving in New Orleans, they traveled by river steamboat up the Mississippi and Missouri Rivers to present-day Council Bluffs, where they joined a larger company of Mormon emigrants for the overland journey to Utah. It took these first Danish emigrants nine months to reach Salt Lake City; thousands who followed took much the same route. New Orleans was the American port of entry until New York and other eastern ports supplanted it in 1855. A few companies sailed directly from Hamburg to America.
Scandinavian converts traveled together, often as part of larger companies including British LDS emigrants, on ships chartered by Mormon agents. After travel by rail or river steamboat, immigrants reached a frontier outfitting post where arrangements were made for their final overland trek to Utah. Beginning in 1869 steam powered the entire journey to Utah, by ship and by rail.
The peak of Danish emigration to Utah came in the years 1862 and 1863, when tensions in Europe were reaching a boiling point over Denmark's attempted annexation of Schleswig, and while the Civil War raged in the United States. In those two years alone nearly 2,000 Mormons emigrated from Denmark, the vast majority destined for Utah. Some, subject to military service, were leaving to avoid becoming cannon fodder in Denmark's armed conflict that would soon break out with Prussia and Austria.
The heaviest Danish Mormon immigration came during the first formative quarter-century of the Latter-day Saint settlement of Utah. No exclusively Danish communities were established, although the village of Mantua in Box Elder County was predominantly Danish in its earliest years. Danes played particularly significant roles in the settlement of Box Elder and Cache counties in the north and of Sanpete and Sevier counties in the south. Sanpete County's Danish-born residents made up twenty-four percent of its population in 1870; with their children born in Utah they were undoubtedly more than one-third of the county's population. One-third of all the Danes in Utah were located in Sanpete County. Droll Danish humor became part of popular Sanpete folklore. Also in 1870, 10.5 percent of Box Elder County's residents were born in Denmark, as were 7.8 percent of Cache County's residents. Although emigration from Denmark to Utah declined after the 1860s, still 10 percent of the state's population in 1890 either were born in Denmark or had at least one parent born in Denmark. Mormon leaders consistently encouraged assimilation, and many Danish converts began to learn English before emigrating. After reaching Utah, wherever possible, they were asked to participate fully in the activities of local Mormon English-speaking wards (congregations). Still, LDS "Scandinavian Meetings" organizations served as a secondary focal point for religious, social, and cultural activities in the mother tongue. Scandinavians joined forces for outings and reunions, choirs, and dramatic productions. Partly because of the central place the Scandinavian LDS Meetings held among the immigrant community, such organizations as Dansk Broderskab (Danish Brotherhood) enjoyed only limited participation in Utah.
Periodicals in their native language served combined audiences of Danes and Norwegians, and sometimes Swedes as well. The most successful of these was the Danish-Norwegian newspaper Bikuben (The Beehive), published in Salt Lake City from 1876 through 1935 (under LDS Church ownership in later years).
Whether disaffected or in search of economic opportunities, some Danish LDS immigrants originally bound for Utah left their traveling companies in the Midwest, or returned there after experiencing Utah. Many of these were among early settlers of Iowa and Nebraska. After a sojourn in Utah and Idaho in the 1860s, Jens (later James) Borglum and his family settled down in Nebraska, where he became a physician. His son Solon, born in Ogden, became a prominent sculptor, as did son Gutzon, born in southern Idaho, who later created the massive monumental sculpture at Mount Rushmore.
After the coming of the railroad to Utah in 1869 Presbyterians, Methodists, Baptists, and Lutherans established churches and schools in Utah aimed specifically at reclaiming Scandinavians from Mormonism. This became a significant factor in the education of many Danish-American youth and won a limited number of proselytes.
The majority of early Danish immigrants to Utah came from agricultural backgrounds. Among the remainder, artisans outnumbered unskilled laborers. While some had been prosperous and the majority were able to at least pay for the ocean voyage to America, most were relatively poor by the time they reached Utah. Several devoted much of their means to help with the expenses of fellow immigrants.
The number of Danish natives living in Utah peaked in 1900 at 9,132 and then declined gradually as more died than immigrated. Yet as late as 1960, Danes and their children made up one-tenth of the state's "foreign stock"--residents who either were born outside the United States or had at least one parent born outside the US. While the 1980 census estimated that only 998 Utah residents were born in Denmark, 137,941 Utahans had at least one Danish ancestor. Continuing interchange with Denmark was facilitated by a Danish consulate for Utah and Nevada in Salt Lake City.
The influence of Danes on the development of Utah is mirrored only slightly in official place-names. Elsinore, Sevier County, was named after the Danish town housing the legendary castle of Hamlet. Jensen, Uintah County, took its name from Lars Jensen, who built a ferry on the Green River. Danish nicknames were more common in the nineteenth century; Mantua was nicknamed "Little Copenhagen," and several communities were often called "Little Denmark."
Anthony H. Lund (1844-1921), who settled in Sanpete County, was Utah's most prominent Danish-American. An 1862 immigrant, Lund served as a member of Utah's territorial legislature. As counselor in the First Presidency of the LDS Church for twenty years, as Church Historian, and as a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, Lund exerted a significant influence on the development of Utah and of his church.
In his art, poetry, and social criticism C. C. A. Christensen (1831-1912) was a representative spokesperson for Utah's Mormons and Scandinavians. His "Mormon Panorama", a series of historical paintings accompanied by a lecture, memorialized early Mormon history.
Andrew Jenson (1850-1941), a self-taught historian, made major contributions to the preservation of Utah and Mormon history.
Language barriers hindered full participation by many bright and capable Danish immigrants in Utah society. Frederik Ferdinand Samuelsen (1865-1929) emigrated to Utah after serving as a member of the Danish parliament. From 1925 to 1927 he presided over weekly Scandinavian meetings in the Assembly Hall on Temple Square in Salt Lake City. A close friend indicated that Samuelsen was deeply disappointed that his lack of fluency in English precluded his further involvement in public life.
Other Danes were influential in their communities and made significant contributions in their professions or vocations. As long-time bishop in Gunnison (1876-1900), strong-willed Christian A. Madsen (1822-1907) helped shape that town. Sophie Valentine (1861-1940), a poet and author of short stories, served as associate editor of Bikuben. Christian Daniel Fjeldsted (1829-1905) was one of the First Seven Presidents of the Seventies in the LDS Church. Peter W. Madsen (1852-1922) founder of Madsen Furniture Company, was prominent in business affairs in Salt Lake City.

See: William Mulder, Homeward to Zion (1957) and Mulder, "Scandinavian Saga," in Helen Z. Papanikolas, ed., The Peoples of Utah (1976).

Richard L. Jensen
Utah History Encyclopedia p. 178

ELITE THEATRE ~~~ High Class Entertainment ~~~~ Researched and Compiled by Tudy Barentsen Standlee

 

Mt. Pleasant Awaits Pioneer Day 1970 ~~~ Twenty Five 80 Year Olds Were Honored~~~ (taken Louise Johansen's Scrapbook)

 

THE ARMORY HALL AS I REMEMBER IT ~~~ Dorothy Jacobs Buchanan First Place Personal Recollection~~~ Saga of the Sanpitch 1985

  

Photos added by Kathy Hafen

 "On with the dance! Let joy be unconfined; No sleep till morn when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the glowing hours with flying feet"." —Lord Byron - "Childe Harold"

 Bent R. Hansen was an expert builder, and an entrepreneur, generally. When he saw the need for a good dance hall in Mt. Pleasant, he built the spacious, oblong brick building on State Street — the Armory Hall. I remember when it was being constructed.

Bendt Hansen

 

We children often stopped by to watch the workers. We saw them lay the subfloor in a diagonal pattern and then put the stout hardwood floor on top. That floor had intensive and extensive use through the years ahead. After the building was finished, I experienced a feeling of pride when I first walked inside and saw the attractive oblong mirrors hanging at intervals on the north and south walls. The colorful decor, the modern steam radiators, and the sizable orchestra stand at the west end were all admired A balcony was built at the east end from where onlookers could comfortably view the scene. Benches along the north and south walls were often occupied by proud parents. There was also a square balcony attached to the east wall, outside, just above the front double doors. It extended across the sidewalk. A railing was built around the edge. 

Soren M. Nielsen

  

I saw Captain Soren M. Nielson, resplendent in military uniform, and heard him give a farewell speech to the assembled citizens upon the departure of the Mt. Pleasant National Guard Unit to help combat the trouble our country was experiencing with Mexico. 

After the Armory Hall was built, Mt. Pleasant became a dance-oriented town, to a great extent. And did we dance! On November 11, 1919, I wrote in my diary: "I must go and press my new blue dress because tonight is the big Armistice Ball in the Armory," "Armistice is a thrilling day, We celebrate in style, A year ago we made them pay And Fritzie ran a mile."

 Here is another entry, dated December 28, 1919, "What a terrific holiday season we have just had, I went to nine dances in succession, with the exception of Sunday."  

 During the 'Teens and Twenties, dances were held almost every weekend. We had an excellent orchestra led by Henry Terry, Other members were George Squires, Ernest Staker, and Milton Ericksen; Gladys Ericksen (Seely), and later, Amber Hanford (Riddle). pianists. They were popular players for most of our dances, and also in nearby towns. 

The special music for the young was "Rube & Dube," an out-of-town orchestra. When we knew they were coming, the dance was already a success. My favorite piece they played was "Tuck Me to Sleep in My Old 'Tucky Home." The trombones blared, the saxophones wailed, the clarinets covered a wide range of pleasing notes, and the bass drum reverberated with power. We fox-trotted, two-stepped, waltzed, pivoted on the corners, "Charlie," and a few daring boys even "shimmied," The Turkey Trot had become passe' and jazz was the "in" thing--"Oh, let me give you a warning, we won't be home until morning. In the lovin' land of jazz." Paul Whiteman was the Jazz King of the hour. 

We were just plain lucky to have a multitude of catchy, exciting, and fascinating tunes during those "dance years." Many are still played and savored—"Girl of My Dreams," "Whispering," "Oh, What a Pal Was Mary," "Sleep, Sleep, Sleep," and all of Irving Berlin's courting songs that he wrote to charm his beloved Ellen Mackay, Some examples are "Always," "Remember," "All Alone," "What'll I do?" 

After Carrie Jacobs Bond published "I Love You Truly," I recall that many of the male dancers were tenderly singing the words to their partners while this popular waltz tune was being played. 

At that time, the procedure of the dances differed considerably from the present-day style. The couple who. came together and danced the first dance with each other. After that, they parted, as was the general custom, and it was the free choice of partners. The boy walked up to the group of girls who were sitting or standing together and asked the young lady of his choice, "May I have the next dance?"

 After dancing for a few minutes, the orchestra usually gave us a short break while we strolled around the hall and visited briefly with other couples, then clapped for an encore and continued dancing for another short period. The orchestra made those decisions and often varied the length of time according to the popularity of the tune they were playing. 

We have various kinds of dances. Matinee or "kid" dances were given in the afternoon on holidays or other special days. The N . H . S, Junior Prom was a festive event with lavish decorations created by the students. It was held for two different nights. Dance programs were used for that function. I still have my program.

 Church parties were held for farewell and welcome home missionaries. It wasn't just the young people that danced. Many "married folks' dances" were held. The Pioneer Dance was a big event. The old-fashioned dances stirred up the crowd, with a caller giving directions. Some of those dances I remember were the Quadrilles, Schottische, Danish Slide-off, Polka, Varsouvienne, Virginia Reel, and the Trolley Hopsie, We young people often joined in but were not as skilled as the older people. 

I remember how I enjoyed seeing my parents dance together,, "Swing your lady, curtsy right--back and forth and promenade." An elderly dance enthusiast, Hyrum Seely, was always an attraction at those married folks' dances, He could kick the highest, whirl the fastest, and step-dance the liveliest of anyone. At times, the dancers would move back and give Hyrum plenty of room to do his special brand of entertainment, Strictly solo His eyes would shine and his feet would fly. He never failed to receive several rounds of applause. He reminded me of a peppy "Uncle Sam" with his sparse chin beard and wiry frame. 

At those dances, people would bring a great amount of luscious food and set it on side tables-- rows of pies and cakes, piles of cookies and doughnuts, Danish beer, bowls of sweet soup. Everything tempting.

By far, the most important person in the dance hall was Will (Willie) Hansen, the manager. He was Bent R. Hansen's brother. Affable and charismatic, yet he was alert to the business of the evening, and nothing escaped his observation. He usually stood at the door and greeted everyone. On occasion, he would announce the dances--"Take your partner for a waltz," or "The next dance will be ladies' choice." Then again--"There will be three more dances." He stopped the music in the middle of the dance and scattered shaved wax on the floor, pushing it forward with a long-handled wide mop. This repolished the floor and made the dancing more enjoyable He also opened or closed the high windows with a long wooden rod to ensure good ventilation. 

After Will announced the last dance, the original partners scrambled to find each other for a last swing around the hall. Usually, the tune was "It's Three O'clock in the Morning," but occasionally, if the hour was late and the orchestra members were a bit weary, they'd rush through "Home Sweet Home". We would scatter in all directions. 

In the winter season, we would usually walk over toward Main Street. A small red light was burning on the corner of Main and State. As we drew nearer, we could see Fred Averett holding his large copper warmer filled with hot tamales wrapped in corn husks. He made the most tantalizin' tamales it has been my good fortune to eat. We'd buy the tamales for a quarter apiece and stand in a small circle on that freezing, but delightful evening, and devour those delectable offerings.  Somehow, I have always associated this little ritual with an Armory Hall dance. 

After the dancing craze pretty much died down, interests and customs shifted, and the Armory was used for other things, too numerous to mention. Here are two examples: Pete Poker's candy shop was housed in the old Opera House, but when the building burned down, Pete moved his shop to a room in the northeast corner of the Armory. After that shop closed, it was used as a garage for the City Fire Engine.

 The Armory is still standing and is being used commercially. I am grateful that this sturdy building remains a reality„ It brings back nostalgic memories and echoes of those times when "joy was unconfined," and we chased "the glowing hours with flying feet." 

Saga of the Sanpitch 1985 ~~~THE B.R.G.s Dorothy Jacobs Buchanan Professional Division Honorable Mention Anecdote

Also called "Girls' Night Out Club".

 

 Shortly after the turn of the century, a number of Mt. Pleasant young women organized a club called the Betsy Ross Girls, better known as the B.R.G.s. Their objective was to do needlework, as the name implied,, But I am sure that a great deal of sprightly conversation accompanied their stitching, for those young ladies were attractive, personable, and well-informed. They had a custom that each one presented a silver demi-tasse spoon to a member when she became engaged to be married. The name of the donor was engraved in the bowl of the spoon. As my mother was one of the first to be married, she received several of those precious spoons. I loved to polish them and read each name Often, my mother would relate information about those friends and some of their activities in the B.R.G.s. Subsequently, I married and had a home and family in Richfield. Many years later, I met a charming lady from Marysvale named Mrs. Etta Bertelsen. In the course of our discussion, she told me that her mother, Marie Syndergaard Long, was raised in Mt. Pleasant. I recognized her name as a good friend of my mother's and one of the B.R.G. girls. This discovery pleased us both. I then told Mrs. Bertelsen that I had a silver spoon with her mother's name, "Marie," engraved in the bowl. I could hardly wait to witness her happiness when I took it to her. The next time we met, Mrs. Bertelsen opened the conversation by saying, "And NOW, I have a silver spoon for YOU!" She handed me a spoon engraved with my mother's name, "Bertie." We were two delighted people — grateful that we were able, after those many years, to make that rewarding silver spoon exchange.

THE COW THAT KEPT HER COOL ~~~ Saga of the Sanpitch Volume 6

 THE COW THAT KEPT HER COOL

Mrs. Dorothy J. Buchanan

Richfield, Utah

Professional Division

First Place Anecdote

Since we were children, most of us have heard about the cow that jumped over the moon, but this cow I have in mind jumped under the moon---or that is, she fell into a cellar, back in those pioneer days, 115 years ago. My great-grandfather, Jens Larsen, came to Mt. Pleasant in 1859 and soon began to build his first house-- of necessity a slow process. He planned a two-room, block adobe house with a dirt roof and cellar. 

At first, only the north room was built, which the family occupied.

Then the cellar was excavated and Jens planned to build the south room on top of that.

Things went along smoothly until one spring day the valuable family cow strayed too close to the cellar and fell into it, but fortunately was uninjured.

Quite a hubbub ensued when friends and neighbors hurried to the spot to offer Jens advice as to ways and means he should employ to get the cow safely out of the cellar. 

The cow was heavy and the cellar was deep. 

How could they ever manage it?

They possessed no tools or mechanical devices to help them. 

But as pioneers were noted for their ingenuity and skill in many things, there was always a way! 

The men simply threw piles of hay and straw into the cellar until it was high enough for Bossy to walk calmly out. She was the only one who had not been excited!

Chariton Jacobs Has Passed On

 

Chariton Jacobs

May 31, 1945 — May 24, 2023

Roosevelt

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    Henry “Chariton” Jacobs IV, age 77 left his earthly home on May 24, 2023, in Murray, Utah surrounded by family after a short hospitalization.
    Chariton was born May 31, 1945, in Provo, Utah to Henry Chariton Jacobs III and Florence Fern McIntosh. He was the second child of three and the only boy. 
    He married Novie Fay Williams on November 21, 1970, in the Manti Temple. While married they had one daughter, Angeline Jacobs. Novie later passed away on December 1, 1986.  He married Annie Swasey Purcell on March 12, 1999, in the Vernal Utah Temple, gained five bonus children and they enjoyed 24 wonderful years together. 
    Chariton was an active member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, he served a mission in the Gulf States Mission, Baton Rouge, Louisiana was his favorite area. He served in many callings and enjoyed attending the temple.
    Chariton cut meat for 51 years, in several stores, he retired in January of 2022.  He enjoyed the outdoors, camping, fishing, and spending time with family especially the grandchildren, they could get anything out of their grandpa.  Games with his family around the table was one of his favorite things.  He loved the Gospel, and His Father in Heaven.
    He is survived by his wife, Annie Jacobs, his sisters, Karen Shelly Hacking, Roosevelt; Annette Hansen,,Fountain Green, Utah; his daughter, Angeline Jacobs, Roosevelt; bonus children, Luke (Tiffany) Purcell, Herriman, UT; Andrew (Jessica) Purcell , Bluebell; Warren (Erica) Purcell, Vernal; Cora (Michael) Sabo, Tooele; Kadee (Dakota) Fox, Roosevelt; 8 grandchildren and his beloved dogs, Abby and Phoebe.,
    He is preceded in death by his parents, first wife, Novie and a grandson, Odysseus Fox.
    Funeral Services will be held on Friday June 2, 2023, at 10:00 a.m. at the Roosevelt West Stake Chapel.  Viewings will be held Thursday evening from 6:00 to 8:00 P.M. at the Hullinger Mortuary and Friday before services from 9:00 to 9:45a.m. at the church.  
    Burial will follow in the Mount Pleasant Cemetery, in Mount Pleasant, Utah at 3:30 P.M.

My Love Affair With Fairview Canyon ~~~ James L. Jacobs ~~~ Saga of the Sanpitch 1979

PIONEER DAY 1970 ~~~ 111th Anniversary ~~~ Taken From Louise Johansen Scrapbook

 

THEY LOVED THE BIKUBEN ~~~ James Jacobs ~~~ Saga of the Sanpitch

 

SCOUTING ON THE SKYLINE ~~~ James L. Jacobs ~~~ Photos Included

 James L. Jacobs

1052 Darling Street

Ogden, Utah 84403

Senior Citizen Division

Second Place Historical Essay

Boy Scout camping trips were never better than those we Scouts

of Mt. Pleasant enjoyed in the mountains east of town in 1920 and

1922, The five-day trips each August were filled with high adven-

- ture and great scouting activities. Hiking, swimming, fishing,

nature study, games and sports, and practicing Scout lore in a

choice mountain setting were thrilling amd stimulsting.

The first trip included thirty-two Scouts of Troop 1 - the

North Ward boys - and a mumber of men officiating. Soren M.

Nielsen was scoutmaster and Ray Riley was his assistant. Daniel

Rasmussen of the stake presidency, Bishop H. C. Jacobs, and several

other men assisted with the trip.

Teans and wagons to haul us and our gear to canp were furnished

at no cost by Joseph Seely, Daniel Rasmussen and Amasa Scovil.

We rode in the wagons on our bedrolls and tents by way of North

Creek to our camp. We walked up all the steep hills to spare the

horses.

Canp was set up on Hog Flat - a rich mountain meadow surrounded

by a forest of spruce, fir and aspen trees. Tents were pitched

on the fringe of the forest. "Pine bough beds" were made of evergreen

tranches piled deep, with the tender tips up to meke spr'ngy

and fragrant mattresses. Clear spring water, abundant firewood,

colorful wildflowers, fresh mountain air and scenery, lush fordge

for horses, and stately trees made an ideal setting for the camp.

Cleveland Reservoir furnished excellent swimming, a five-mimite

walk away. Log seats were placed around a fireplace circle where

campfire programs were held. The camp was named “Camp Heber J.

- Grant® to honor the Church President.

A bugle call at six each morning summoned everyone to a flagraising

ceremony to start the day's activities. These were carefully

planned to promote scouting principles and provide enjoyment

to all who participated.

On Tuesday a hike was made to the top of Seely Mountain..

re we repeated the scout oath, law, and motto while we viewed

the beauties of the mountains. On Wednesday we visited the Larsen

coal mine and had scouting lessons on the mine dump. Everyone went

fishing on Thursday and caught speckled trout in the mountain streanms.

On Friday we returned home by way of Gooseberry ana Fairview Canyon.

o

Each day we studied hard to learn more about scouting and

qualify for advancement in the scouting program. Twenty-five of

the boys passed tests to make them tenderfoot scouts, and several

achieved second class rank.

Both Troop 1 and Troop 2 from the South Ward participated in

the 1922 trip. Many brought their fathers along, so there were 65

boys and men in the party. J. Seymour Jensen served as camp director,

Harold Oliverson was scoutmaster of Troop 1 With Evan Madsen

as assistant; Calvin Christensen was scoutmaster of Troop 2 with

Marvin Anderson as assistant. Frank Bohne was chief cook, Harry

Ericksen was butcher, and R. W. Weech was photographer, Additional

teams and wagons were furnished by Bruce Seely, Byron Hampshire and 9

Clair Jacobsen.

Some of the boys in the party, identified from a photograph

were; Nelson Aldrich, Ray Aldrich, Waldo Barton, Willie Barton,

Elvin Bills, Ray Bohne, Allie Christensen, Barl Christensen, Theodore

Christensen, Robert Ericksen, Boyd Hafen, Lynn Jensen, Ray

Jorgénsen, James Jacobs, Ralph Jacobsen, Kemnis Johansen, Floyd

Larson, Evan McArthur, Chesley Norman, Arley Munk, Nathan Nielson,

Edgar Olsen, Owen Olsen, Paul Rasmussen, Paul Reynolds, Theodore

Reynolds, William Reynolds, John Rosenberg, Carlton Seely, Ray

Seely, Theron Seely, Clayton Sorenson, Miles Sorenmson, Gordon Staker,

Charles Wall, Wendell Wall, Aristol White and Perry Wright.

We were organized into patrols of eight Scouts each. The

patrols competed with each other in learning scout lore, in passing

advancement tests, in games and sports, and in giving stunts at

the evening campfire programs. The patrols were named for animals

or birds. I was a member of the Beaver patrol, amd we worked like

the beavers we were to be the best patrol in camp.

To qualify for tenderfoot rank the Scouts had to know the

scout law; oath, sign, salute, motto, care and history of the U.S.

flag, and tle nine required knots. When one of the boys learned

to tie the difficult carrick band knot, he danced around the camp

chanting repeatedly, "I can tie the carrick band."

We also learned safety rules, first aid to the injured, signalling

by Morse code, semaphore and wigwag, how to use knife and

axe properly, to cook on a campfire, to read maps and to use a

compass. «

Forest Ranger Merrill Nielson, who was statloned at nearby

Lake Ranger Station, and Deputy Forest Supervisor Serrin Van Boskirk

took us on a nature hike and taught us to identify many native

plants. I still remember the beautiful columbine, bluebell, paintbrush,

elderberry, wild geraniun, niggerhead, and the names of the

trees in the forest. These men also showed us how to fight and

prevent forest fires, and to keep from getting lost in the woods.

Food never tasted so good. Cook Frank Bohne and his helpers

were experts at preparing camp meals. They served mutton we got

from a nearby sheep herd, beans, potatoes, and all the trimmings,

including gallons of dixie molasses we spread on bread for dessert.

We ate each meal like it was to be our last one.

Swinming in Cleveland reservoir was a special delight and we

21l swan every day in our birthday sults. Swimming races were held,

and some of the boys passed tests for advancement, including quali-

. fying for swimming merit badges.

There was one crisis. Senior Patrol Leader Theodore Christensen

supervised the boys while they were swimming. One of the swim-

- mers came running up to Theodore with tears streaming down his cheeks

and cried, “We can't find Paul anywhere. He must have drowned."

There was a frantic, fruitless search for the missing boy, then the

boys were ordered to dress and return to camp. There in his tent,

on his pine bough bed, Paul was found peacefully sleeping.

Foot-races were held daily on the smooth slope of the reservoir

just above the water level, which made an ideal racetrack. A

baseball game was played with the boys against their fathers, and

the boys won by a small margin. We leaped and rolled and tunbled

in a large sawdust pile which had been left by an old sawmill.

After supper each night everyone gathered around the campfire

for a program. There were stories and recitations, appropriate

talks by the leaders, and peppy stunts acted out by the patrols.

But the part T enjoyed most was the lusty singing of songs. We

sang patriotic songs, church hynns, and many of the lively songs

fron the Boy Scout Songbook. We always bellowed forth our favorite

ditty, which ran something like this: