SUGAR FOR SANPETE~~~ FIRST PLACE HISTORICAL ESSAY ~ Eleanor P. Madsen ~ Saga of the Sanpitch 1990

 

Eleanor Peterson Kjar Madsen

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From the time of the early settlement of Sanpete County, there have been individuals and groups who have taken the lead in developing enterprises that have had far-reaching effects, not alone in the county but in the state and nation. Although some of these industries no longer exist here, they contributed much to the economy and development of the area in their time. Sugar factories in Gunnison and Moroni were among those early industries. 

In 1851 President Brigham Young and his counselors published an epistle to the "Saints scattered throughout the earth," pleading for the people to make their own sugar and molasses and asking for companies to come to Utah to establish a sugar-making business. In 1855 sugar was selling for $1.00 per pound, which was "far more than the starving pioneers could afford." Bishop C. A. Madsen of Gunnison was one in Sanpete County who led out in developing the sugar industry. In 1875> through the church program, a few pounds of seed were distributed to the farmers in Gunnison for experimental purposes.

 As early as 1879 Bishop Madsen and others had forty acres of maize and sorghum under cultivation to make sugar, and a cane mill was set up on the Co-op farm. The cane froze three times in June and the maize twice in July. A Gunnison history states, "We had hoped to have been able to present specimens of sorghum and beet sugar at the State Pair, but as long as we have not made any, we shall be very quiet about it." With the desperate need for sugar, "like Moses and the Israelites the Saints were saved by food from heaven."

 In August 1855 a hard substance appeared on the Cottonwood trees near Provo. The Pioneers shook the white coating off the leaves and boiled it down to make a sweet brown sugar. Some 4,000 pounds were extracted. In 1891 sugar beets were raised extensively in Utah and fanners from Sanpete, Severe and Juab counties joined others from Springville and Provo in growing beets and sending them by rail to the sugar plant in Lehi for processing. Three thousand two hundred seventy-five bags of sugar were sacked that season. The vision of the saints had materialized when the first granules of white sugar were spun from sugar beet molasses.

 Cries of "Hallelujah" filled the air. Handsful of sugar were passed around the room and men marveled that white sugar could come from black molasses President Wilford Woodruff, old and frail, traveled from Salt Lake City to the Lehi factory to see his dream bear fruit. With tears running down his cheeks he said, "This is one of the happiest experiences of my life." Sanpete County continued to give strong support to the industry. 

In 1916 the People's Sugar Company was organized. A local paper printed the . following: One of the most successful business meetings ever held in Sanpete County was held at the Elite banquet hall with twenty-four men from the county being present. Five thousand acres of beets will be grown for the factory with acreages proportioned to each city in the county. A committee was appointed to secure the acreage and to report each day. . . 

Actual work began on the Moroni factory in February 1917. The plant was completed that fall and the first run of sugar made October 20, 1917. Many news articles appeared in local papers encouraging the growing of sugar beets. Beet-growing contests were held. Cash prizes of $25, $15 and $10 were awarded boys and girls by the Sugar Company, as well as a beautiful gold-decorated insignia button furnished by the State Bankers Association. Prizes were also given at the County Fair, consisting of 100 pounds to ten pounds of sugar for the best sugar beets. Farmers were offered cash prizes in amounts of $1000 up to $10,000 for best methods and results in raising beets. The slogan was, "Prosperity means sugar beets on every farm." National recognition was given the sugar beet industry as indicated by a statement from United States Food Administrator, Herbert Hoover: One of the most vital problems confronting the nation is that of procuring sufficient sugar to meet the requirements of our people and of allied nations fighting our common battle. I therefore earnestly appeal to every farm so situated to come to his country's aid in this hour of need. In 1916 Moroni had the distinction of having the most modern sugar refinery in the west. 

For a number of years it made much progress. In 1918 some 20,000 pounds of sugar beets were processed at the factory. The beet sheds were enlarged, preparing for a large tonnage the following year. In 1926 a front page editorial in the Mt. Pleasant Pyramid said, "Grow Sugar Beets, factory Must Have Beets or Quit." That year a severe infestation of white fly caused an almost total crop failure. Drought and other disouragement caused the closing of the Moroni plant in 1937. The plant was sold to Utah-Idaho Sugar Company, the factory dismantled, and the business moved to another state. Moroni Turkey Plant purchased the remaining facilities in 1939 from the Utah-Idaho Sugar Company. After the close of the Moroni plant, beets grown in the area were shipped to the Gunnison Valley Sugar Company. In 1911 beets grown in Sanpete and Sevier counties were processed at a new factory in Elsinore. The Gunnison Valley Sugar Company was organized about the same time as the Moroni Sugar Company. In 1914 plans were made for a factory in Centerfield and spur was built from the Denver and Rio Grand Railroad to the proposed factory site. A factory was purchased at Waverley, Washington, and the first carload of machinery arrived in Centerfield in the fall of 1914. 

The shipment of machinery was completed in 1917 and the new million-dollar plant was completed in time for the harvest. On September 19, 1919, a huge celebration was held to commemorate the formal opening of the Gunnison Sugar Factory. Promptly at midday the wheels of industry throughout the valley ceased and everyone assembled at the factory. A fine program was held, and dinner and dancing concluded the day's activities. The factory then began its operation. In the early 1920's the William Wrigley Company of Chicago acquired control of the Gunnison Valley Sugar Company and introduced an extensive program which greatly increased the capacity of the plant. In 1922 Hart J. Sanders became chief chemist at the plant and in 1925 he assumed duties as Plant Superintendent. He served in that capacity until 1944 when he became District Manager. Charles Embley was Dean of Employees. Other veteran plant employees were O. J. Tolck, D. Ray Goates, William H. Parr and Roy Darlington. L. J. Arnold whose service also began in 1922, was Agricultural Superintendent. The annual tonnage of beets harvested at the plant varied from practically none in 1926, due to the white fly or leaf hopper, to some 120,000 ton in 1946. 

Developments including segmented seed and modern machinery opened up a new era in the industry. During the booming years, Spearmint was the railroad switch to the sugar factory. Some of the area street names suggested economic growth, ie. "Sugar Factory Lane." A large neon sign was placed at the entrance to the factory in 1929. Other industries also benefited from the production of sugar beets, especially in meat and dairy production, through the use of the pulp, molasses and beet tops. Additional taxes paid by the industry aided in maintaining schools and roads. The plant was purchased by the Utah-Idaho Sugar Company in 1940 and. additional improvements were made with some 200 men being employed during the campaign. 

In 1948 the factory opened its pond for fishing. The pond was used as a reservoir for the water supply for the factory. The early hours were reserved for young fishermen, those under 12 years of age. It was a popular place for a number of years. In 1955 only a third of the normal water supply was available. Pew beets were grown. The plant shut down; however, it opened again a year or so later to process a million ton of beets harvested in Sanpete and Sevier counties. Despite small acreages the Sugar Company continued to operate. After the final campaign in 1960 the Company felt that there were not enough beets to justify continuation. The factory was closed. After that beets were shipped to the Company's factory in West Jordan and later to the plant in Tremonton. The high cost of transportation drove all but a handful of beet growers to planting other crops. The Company sold the building and property to Frank O'Brien Salvage Company of S f Spanish Pork. Some of the equipment was removed. Several years later the building was subject to a major demolition effort by the Dee Construction Company of Spanish Fork. All evidence of what was the nucleus of a major agricultural industry in Sanpete Valley was gone. What began in 1914 is now nothing but a memory. 

BIBLIOGRAPHY 1. Allred, Gladys, Personal Interview with Eleanor P. Madsen. 1990 2. Alter, J. Cecil, Utah the Storied Domain. A Documentary History. Chicago, and New York: American Historical Society Inc. 1932. Vol. I, pp. 128, 202, 487 Vol. III, p. 386. 3 Vols. 3. Daughters of Utah Pioneers. These Our Fathers. Springville: Art City Publishing Co., 1947, PP. 152, 153, 206. 241, 245. 4. Deseret Hews. Deseret 1776-1976. A Bicentennial Illustrated History of Utah. Salt Lake City: Deseret News Publishing Co., 1976,pp. 126, 128. 5. Manti Messenger.Feb. 9, 1901. 6. Peterson, Gary B., and Lowell C. Bennion. Sanpete Scenes. Eureka, Utah: Basin Plateau Press, 1987, pp. 52, 53, 121, 132. 7* Pyramid. Mar. 5, 1926; June 30, 1916; Dec. 21, 1917; Jan. 4, 1918; Apr. 9 1926. 8. Sanders, Bud. Personal Interview with Eleanor P. Madsen, 1990 9. Salt Lake Tribune. Hal Edwards, Correspondent, Piles Dee Peterson, Ephraim, Utah

SUGAR FOR SANPETE FIRST PLACE HISTORICAL ESSAY~~~ Eleanor P. Madsen

Valentine's Day With Mathilda Lund>>> Written by Eleanore Peterson Madsen

Mathilda Lund 

Eleanor Peterson Kjar Madsen
A Daughter of Mathilda
and author of the following story.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1891 is a long time ago. Schools at that time were much different from the schools of today. Methods
of teaching the three R’s varied as much as the characteristics of the students being taught.
Looking through family history I found that my mother, Mathilda Lund, started school in Mt. Pleasant,
Utah some eighty-four years ago. Picture a little girl in a pretty, ruffley calico pinafore, with long black
stockings and shoes that buttoned tight around her ankles, her black braids ties with colorful ribbons, skipping
happily to the First Ward School House, where she commenced her first year of school. This school was a
brick building, also used as a church. It was built in 1875 and stood on the corner of Third South and State
Street until 1908, when it was torn down to make way for the new South Ward Church.
Education was very important to Mathilda’s parents and the other pioneers of that time. They couldn’t
wait for large, spacious class rooms to be built, so the children were scattered all over town with one or two
grades in each building.

The second year Mathilda went to Simpson School on the southwest corner of the Wasatch Academy
block. The school was named for Hans Y. Simpson because of his generosity in providing funds for its
construction. It is probably the best-known of the early school buildings.

Mathilda’s third-grade venture was in a brick building on First North and First West which was later
used as the City Hall. This was an exciting place for school since Pleasant Creek ran past the building. In the
fall and spring months when the windows were open, the children could hear the ripple of the water as it
splashed over the pebbles along its way toward the Sanpitch River.


The children were always anxious for recess time, when they could play along the banks of the creek,
making houses in the willow-covered nooks, using willow branches to sweep their playhouse floors. Playing
house was fun for both boys and girls. Sandwiches were brought from home for the recess period, and
sometimes the children exchanged their “graham” bread for cornbread and other kinds of jam sandwiches.
In 1897, the new three-story, red brick Public School building was completed, and for the first time, all
eight grades were housed in one building. With the bringing together of so many children, it seemed
there was a need for more regimentation and stricter discipline.
The school day began at about 8:00 a.m. with the ringing of a large bell in the tower of the school building
that could be heard all over town. It was a signal to be up and moving.

About five minutes to nine, the school Principal appeared outside the entrance of the building and rang
a smaller bell. This one had a wooden handle which allowed him to swing it in many directions. This was the
signal for the children to line up on the wide wooden walks on the east and west ends of the school building.
The children stood four abreast in rigid rows, the first grades first and consecutively up to the eighth
grade. Part of the classes marched through the west doors, and the others through the east double doors.
A child who was late getting in line had to stand aside until all had marched in. Then he or she reported
to the Principal’s office, where he was given a permit to enter class. The next day he had to bring an excuse
from home, giving the reason why he was late. Needless to say, there was not much tardiness.

The children hung their wraps on the long rows of hooks just outside of each classroom. They sat by
flat-topped desks made of wood with a long groove across the top to hold pencils and pens. There was an
inkwell on the right side. Three or four desks were fastened together with long runners. Underneath the
desktop was a place for books and papers. A cast iron piece on either side held the paper and bookshelf in
place.

The inkwells were a source of some unpleasantness in the class room. Mathilda had to be careful to
keep her long, black braids in front of her, as quite often the freckled-faced boy who sat behind her would put
the end of the braid down the ink bottle.
On a number of occasions Mathilda felt like leaving the room when an ink bottle went flying past her
toward the front of the room, aimed at the teacher, who somehow had learned to duck at just the right time,
leaving the ink to splatter over the blackboard behind him. Many times the whole class would be punished
because the culprit couldn’t be found.
School always commenced with prayer by one of the students, followed by the singing of favorite
songs: America, Columbus, the Gem of the Ocean, I’ll Paddle My Own Canoe, and Old Mother Hubbard is
Plucking Her Geese.

One of Mathilda’s best linked classes was Geography because she liked making the relief maps with
clay. She made maps of South America, the European countries, Asia, and Africa. Another class she liked was
writing. She was a good penman, and it was a delight for her to make the push-pulls and the O’s that went
round and round between the ruled lines across the page in such even rows.
Mathilda was a good speller and looked forward to each Friday afternoon, when spelling matches were
held. Prizes were given to the last ones who “stayed up.” Sometimes a five cent rubber eraser was given.
Along with the spelling matches there were arithmetic and geography drills and diagramming of words.
A great deal of memorizing went on in the early schools. Mathilda learned readings from Whittier, Walt
Whitman and Longfellow’s “Hiawatha.” One of the classes had a rule that if anyone whispered five times he
had to write “whisper” a thousand times and also memorize and recite for the class, “Skeleton in Armor.”


Recess was waited for eagerly. If the weather permitted, the children played hopscotch, jump the
rope, ball, crack the whip, Ginnie, Duck and marbles. When it was stormy the girls spread the capes or shawls
they wore on their desks or on the floor and played “Jacks,” which were agate marbles.
When the Principal rang the bell there was scurrying to the lines and all marched back to the school
rooms and lessons. The teachers were very strict disciplinarians, and some carried a rawhide whip, which was
used to bring the unruly into line.
Holidays were looked forward to with great anticipation. On Saint Valentine’s Day a red and white
crepe paper-covered box stood in a corner to receive all the Valentine hearts the children had made.
At Christmas time the older boys would go into the mountains to get Pine or Juniper trees, which
would be decorated with circles of paper chains, popcorn and cranberry strings.

Graduation from the eighth grade was a big event with a fine program given by the students. The girls
carried little baskets of lilacs and bachelor buttons. Mathilda was lovely in her long, white ruffled dress,
adorned with ribbons and lace and starched petticoat underneath. The boys were handsome in their
knickerbockers pants and white shirts with wide, stiff collars and large bowties.

The first graduating class from the eighth grade of the Mt. Pleasant Public School was in 1898. There
was no High School there until 1908, so it was a big step for the graduates to go to Ephraim to Snow Academy
after eighth grade graduation.

1891 is a long time ago. School day memories are precious, whether they are made in 1891 or in 1975.
The early schools prepared our parents and grandparents to cope with the society in which they lived as the
educational methods of today prepare their grandchildren for a new and different society. Each one worked
toward the same goal of building strong character and teaching students to get along well with people. This is
the foundation of educational practices, whether in Mathilda’s day or in our day.

Source: History of Mathilda Lund from Family Records, Diary of Christian N. Lund in Church Historian’s Office, These Our Father

ANDREW PETER’S PROMISE ~~~ A sketch of the life of John Henry Owen Wilcox by Eleanor Peterson Madsen

 A sketch of the life of John Henry Owen Wilcox

ANDREW PETER’S PROMISE

Eleanor P. Madsen

 

 

  ANDREW PETER’S PROMISE 

The day was hot and sultry. Andrew Peter had been up since before daylight coaxing the small stream of water through the sparse alfalfa patch. “Golly, I’m tired! I must be getting’ old,” he said aloud, more to himself than to his nephew who was cutting some weeds out of a ditch nearby. The older man sat down on a clump of grass on the ditch bank to rest a few minutes before resuming his task. The younger man, whose name was also Peter, leaned on the shovel handle as he said, “Old? Why, you’ll outlast me twenty years. I’ll tell you what. If you go first, no matter where I am I’ll be to your funeral. If I go first, you gotta promise me you’ll come to mine no matter where it is.” “It’s a deal,” exclaimed Andrew Peter as he stretched out his arm to shake hands on the bargain. Many years passed. Peter left Sanpete County and moved across the mountain to Ferron, Emery County, where he lived for some time. One day in August 1914, Andrew Peter, who was then 82 years old, was out in his field north of Ephraim harvesting peas. Word was brought to him that his nephew Peter, had died and the funeral would be on Wednesday, just two days away. It was a busy time of year for farmers and that black cloud in the west looked like rain. Andrew Peter had given his word to be to the funeral of his namesake so the farming would have to wait. It rained most of the night but Andrew Peter had no intention of breaking his word. He arose early and said to his wife, “Martha, tell Ali and Minnie they can ride with us and Nels and Lilly can take Suzy with them. We’ll be better off taking the two cars of it’s going to rain. It was 9 a.m. before the Olsens with their two Model T”s were on their way. There was still a fine mist of rain in the air as they left Ephraim and drove south. All went well until the group reached Sumper’s Ranch in Salina Canyon. To their dismay the road leading through the railroad tunnel had been washed out by the heavy rain. “We better go back, Dad, “Ali suggested. “We’ll never get through this.” “We’re not going back!” exclaimed Andrew Peter. “I promised Pete I’d go to this funeral and that’s what we’re going to do.” The boys knew it was no use to try to persuade their father to turn around. They started making their way cautiously over the steep bank. Martha sat motionless hardly daring to breathe as one wheel slipped into a deep gulley made by the flood water. She wanted to get out and walk but knew that was impossible. Just as she thought they were on more sure ground again, the car sank into the sticky mud and stopped.

Andrew Peter climbed out of the car and looked around to see what could be done. As he kicked around in the mud with his toe, he shouted, “Look, here’s a piece of rail! Maybe we can pry the wheels loose with it.” Ali scoffed, “Why you can’t even lift one end of that rail let alone pry the wheels up with it.” “Well, I’m going to try. We’ve got to do something,” answered Andrew Peter. After several tries he found that he couldn’t lift the rail. On closer examination the elderly man found a piece that had broken off which he could use. With this to aid him and the boys and the other car helping to push they were out of the mud hole and on their way again. A second tunnel proved to be less hazardous. There was enough road not covered with mud and water that the cars could get through. Martha kept her eyes focused on the road ahead. Her fingers ached from clasping them together so tight. As they rounded each precarious curve, Martha wondered if the floor board under her feet would last to their destination. The Model T’s made it across the top of the mountain and down Red Creek. Here the boys were ready to turn back again. The complete road had been washed out and floods had piled mud and debris as much as eight feet high. Martha moaned, “What on earth can we do now?” “Now, Martha, don’t get excited.” Andrew Peter tried to reassure her. “We’ll go down in the creek bed.” At once he started driving his car in that direction. Ali said, “Dad, you can’t do that. We’ll never make it through. We can still go back.” Andrew Peter was determined. Martha and the boys knew it was no use to say any more. Martha shut her eyes, held her breath and prayed silently. She was numb all over. As the car lurched forward into a deep gully she wanted to scream but even her jaws were too rigid to move. She was sure they were going to roll down the hill. Somehow the car stayed upright and at last they were on level ground. The mud holes were almost a welcome relief to her. It was getting dark as they drove on to the road again. Martha could barely see the outline of the solid rock wall that towered 100 feet above them. The headlights were so mud-splattered that it was difficult to see where the road was. Martha’s prayers helped and the little party traveled for some time without incident. As they reached the division of the road that led to Emery and to the Pony Mines (the road that now leads to I-70) once more the first car mired in the swampy mud. Ali, peering through the blackness said, “I think the road is full of water.” Andrew Peter replies, “I’ll soon find out. I think it’s just mud.” He got out of the car and found himself wading in water up to his ankles. With the aid of the second car and more pushing and pulling, the men were able to get the cars moving slowly again through mud and water. It was 3 a.m. when the weary travelers reached the town of Emery and made their way to the home of Minnie’s brother, Lou Peterson. After waking the Petersons, they were treated to bowls of bread and milk and sank into bed and exhausted sleep. It was late in the forenoon before the Olsen’s were able to get on their way toward Ferron. Their problems were not over as they encountered roads that had been washed out. The mud and water caused some mechanical problems with their cars. Martha was afraid they would never reach Ferron in time for the funeral. Andrew Peter and the boys were so covered with mud they didn’t look very presentable to be going into a church, she thought. Martha rubbed some of the mud from the bottom of her own black skirt and pushed a stray lock of her gray hair from her face.

It was very quiet as the group stopped their cars by the small adobe church in Ferron. The hearse with its two white horses and several other cars and buggies were standing by the fence where the mud had been scraped away for the mourners to park. As she climbed out of the car, Martha lifted her eyes to a ray of light pushing its way through the clouds. Andrew Peter led the way as they entered the church. They could see the Bishop standing at the pulpit and the rest of the congregation standing. The funeral was over. As the Bishop saw the door open and the Olsen’s enter, he announced to the audience, “Here are the Kesko’s from Sanpete.” There was handshaking, embracing and words of welcome for Andrew Peter, Martha and the others. The body of Peter in the wooden casket was forgotten for a moment. Ali, Nels, and their families never forgot that when Andrew Peter made a promise, he kept it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eleanor Kjar Madsen Ephraim, Utah 

Eleanor Dianna Peterson Kjar Madsen, 95, of Ephriam, Utah died July 26, 2008, at the Gunnison Valley Hospital. She was born April 19, 1913 in Mt. Pleasant, Utah the daughter of Mouritz and Mathilda Lund Peterson. She married Ronald Melroy Kjar September 1, 1934 in the Salt Lake Temple. He died August 12, 1946. She married Leslie L. Madsen July 31, 1964 in the Manti temple. He died August 6, 1984. Eleanor graduated from North Sanpete High School and from Snow College. She taught elementary school in Manti and was Deputy Recorder in the Sanpete County Courthouse for 25 years. She served in all auxiliary organizations of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day-Saints in ward and stake capacities. She and her husband, Leslie, served an LDS Church mission in Sacramento, California in 1976-1977. She served in the Family History Mission in Salt Lake City in 1992-1993. She served as an Ordinance Worker in the Manti Temple for 12 years. She was an avid genealogist and served in the Family History Libraries in Manti and Ephraim. She had just completed the genealogy for four family lines as far back as records are available. She was a vice president for the Ladies Guild for the Mormon Miracle Pageant. She was President of the Sanpete PTA, and did tutoring at the Ephraim Elementary School up to age 93. Next to her love for her family was her love of writing. She served as Editor and committee member of the "Saga of the Sanpitch" during all the 30 years of its publication. She was Co-editor of the "Golden Quarter," a 25 year history of Ephraim; and, with her brother Albert C. Peterson, a history of the "Fredrick and Ane M. Peterson family." She also authored other family histories and a volume of poetry. She served as President of the Utah Federation of the Sanpete Poetry Chapter for several years. She wrote local items of news for the Messenger-Enterprise for 42 years. Her 34 grandchildren and 81 great-grandchildren and one great-great-grandchild were the recipients of many of her crocheted afghans and quilts. She was also steadfast in her affection for the Madsen family of three children, six grandchildren, and nine great-grandchildren. She is survived by two sons: R. Bruce (Judy) Kjar, Woods Cross; R. Michael (Janet) Kjar, Salt Lake; one daughter: Janet (R Dee) Hughes, Clinton; two daughters-in-law: Marcia Kjar, Gunnison; Marianne Kjar, Provo; two sisters: Dorothy Blackham, Judith Sperry; one brother: David L. Peterson She was preceded in death by her parents; her two husbands; two sons, David Kjar and Richard Kjar; two brothers, Lyman Peterson and Albert C. Peterson; a sister, Lucile Blackham; three grandchildren; one great-grandchild.