Memories of Elvina Elvira Jensen Stansfield

This letter was written to Elonie Malvina (Leona) Jensen Rixey from her sister, Elvina Elvira (Mina) Jensen Stansfield at age 81. Aunt Mina lived to be 1 month shy of 100. Mina and Leona were my Grandfather Arthur Jensen’s sisters. My mother, Betty Kathleen Jensen Farley, had a copy of this letter in her possession. As the copy is fading badly, I will attempt to copy it as close to the way it was written as possible. Lynda Farley Bench


Mt. Pleasant, Utah
February 26, 1964
Dear Leona,
This morning while I was in bed, I had an inspiration; I will write to Leona; my television is being repaired and I can’t even hear the news on radio as my radio is in my television set, too. So you will have to bear the brunt. I hope you can take it. I guess you can for you are of that good old, Swedish stuff. I miss television when it is off, especially the news and some stories. I am so anxious to get on with the trial of poor old, rich Winston Grimsby, who is accused of murdering a gal who was trying to get a million or less, from him. I thought it interesting to see and hear about conditions in Kentucky, where the coal mines closed down and put so many men out of work. Can you imagine a state as old as Kentucky in such a condition; men of 60 or older who couldn’t read or write. “What kind of a state is it?” I ask myself. I remember when Hoover was president, he went fishing in some of the places and he found that some places have never had a school. So he got a school for them and also when the draft cam (and of course, they didn’t escape the draft) some of the boys had never worn a pair of shoes. One man couldn’t leave the mountains because he couldn’t read the road signs, so couldn’t go out and find work. I know it’s true because the March issue of Presbyterian Life had a lot of pictures of college students bringing clothes and food to them last Christmas. I blame the state for such conditions. President Johnson mentioned Kentucky as the most poverty-stricken area. And others can clip millions of dollars out of nowhere. How does it happen anyway? ? ? (as B. Baker and that crook from Texas.) And thinking about President Kennedy - - was it not the most tragic thing ? ? I was watching everything when he was shot and when Oswald was shot, too. And all during the funeral, it was like an ancient pageant, so fabulous and tragic. I could hardly make myself believe it was real. The walk to the church and Mrs. Kennedy walking all the way; the caisson, the empty saddle and the drums. The chills went up and down my back. The Catholic sermon, with all that canting in an unknown language, except the Priest and God. If it takes all that us ordinary humans will never get to Heaven, I’m afraid. Do I sound cynical? (I had to look in the dictionary to spell it.)
I am glad I am just a down-to-earth Presbyterian- - -

* * * * *
I have a lot of papers I saved from the First World War in 1914, and the Second World War and also the last War with Japan. Let me ramble along a little further into the Spanish-American War when you and I were in the Eighth Grade. C.J. Jensen was our teacher and we got a cable (or however the news came those days) that Admiral Dewey had sunk the Spanish Fleet in Manilla Harbor…..How we whooped and stomped our feet. It was such a thrill, and so many things have happened since those days. Evan was in the War with Japan, in the Navy. He was a Lieutenant on a small gunboat that protects the large ships. They fired so often and so fast that the guns got red-hot; the Japs plunging their planes right on the ships. Evan won’t talk much about it but he did say that they plucked men right out of the water and their flesh stuck to their hands as they lifted them out.
I am rambling along. I forgot what I was going to say about the funeral of our President and his brave wife and those sweet children who have no father now, only in memory and I wept as they crept up to the bier and kissed it, poor little tykes. They are humans even if they own millions of dollars. They have only one heart, one brain, even as you and I. I somehow got the feeling that Mrs. Kennedy was aware that she was making history with her bravery, her poise, etc. (an I getting - - where is that word again - -cynical?) I think there was another cup of coffee in my pot after breakfast. I will get it and maybe I can collect my thoughts better and not ramble along so badly. There was a cup all right but the bottom was full of grounds. I boil my first cup of coffee in the morning so I can get it fast (about three minutes, where, if you perk in the perculator, it takes nine minutes for the best coffee. If you perk longer it gets sort of a sour taste. But this last cup wasn’t too good. The grounds are so fine that particles get under my lower plates and they cut like raspberry seeds. I drink a lot of coffee, maybe too much but I blame it on the commercials of coffee. Every time I see a play, they have coffee and then I get the urge to put on the pot and I enjoy it with the play. I am glad I don’t have any booze in my home of I might become an “alcohalic.” Is that spelled right? Well, here I am, away from the funeral again, from coffee to raspberry seeds and booze. I will try to keep my mind in the groove. And Leona, that word reminds me when we were eleven or twelve years old and Father made us weed the wheat field, ten acres. OH! It looked so big, and black seed plants by the millions with an occasional milk weed which always made our hands sticky. But we would count off five rows, walk in the center row and watch the other rows for weeds. It was easy, up and down, you, Elmer and me; each five rows - - that makes fifteen each turn. By noon we were real hungry but we never cheated. We made a flat spot of earth, put a straight stick in the center and when the sun made a straight shadow, it was noon and we could eat. I can’t remember what but most likely it was “fit” (lard) and smoked sausage. Mother seemed to have barrels of sausage, always and I couldn’t stand it, especially if she always put onion in it. I remember when Mother always put onion in all fried potatoes, “eggs”, “caga” liver sausage and we kids would sit and pick pieces of onion out of the food. She would get so mad at us for being so picky. Poor Mother! what she put up with! Here I am off the subject again. We were just having sandwiches of “fit” and sausages. I guess we were hungry enough to eat anything. After eating, we found the largest willow trees we could find, climb to the top and sway back and forth singing at the tops of our voices. None of us could sing but anyway, it was fun. However, at one o’clock by our clock, we were back weeding and by night, we usually had the ten acres clean. Father had the cleanest wheat in the field and at threshing time, with the old “Hup” power, that’s what we kids called it, the wheat was threshed. Six or eight horses pulled it round and round and a man in the center, with a big whip yelled “hup! hup!”. I thought he was a hero for sure and the next hero was the two men who fed the threshing machine, one cutting the binding strings and the other stuffing the bundles down the throat so it all came out beautiful, clean wheat. We never knew what happened inside the machine, what went in and what came out; straw, clean, cream colored, and chaff and how we liked to play in the straw stack, huge stacks of it. We would climb up and slide down. I was such a coward, I was always afraid I would sink in the soft fluffy straw and would never be found again. Father always separated the straw from the chaff and mixed the chaff with the ground wheat and few the steers to be fattened. I remember so well the large manger that the steers had, filled with chaff and shorts and chop feed and bran. In case you have forgotten, bran is the outside of the wheat, the shell. Shorts is next inside and chop feed is the whole wheat, chopped. We now buy this cattle feed and pig feed in fancy packages and call it graham flour, whole meal cereal and also wheat germ. Were those animals well-fed! I buy wheat germ by the bottle and put a tablespoon of it in my oatmeal mush. It is full of Vitamin B. But before I go back to my sad story again, I have to remind you of our milk cows in case you have forgotten. My first remembrance was of an old cow, the family Old Halta (meaning limpy). We had just moved from town to the farm. I was 4 or 5 years old. I remember it so well. There was a litter of pigs born and one was a real runt and couldn’t compete with the other 11 or 12. Father sent me to milk our Old Halta and feed the runt. I can’t remember whether I got any milk out of the cow or not but the pig was fed. Of course, you wouldn’t know about Halta but I know you remember Old Mag. We kids could ride all we wanted to. She was 20 years old and so sway-backed that if two of us got on her back, we got so wedged in that we couldn’t loosen out. But one day you and I were riding on her and we both fell off. I don’t know what happened or how we managed it, but we did. I think she must have stopped very suddenly. I fell off of Fanny once as I am sure you can remember. We were home alone at the time. We put a carpet on Fanny and tied it with a rope and I should have the first ride. I was lopping down the land, sitting sideways (we wouldn’t be caught astride a horse, so vulgar) when the rope and carpet started to slide backwards and I, with it. I hit my head on a sharp rock and made a deep hole. I made you swear to not tell Father and Mother because they would forbid us to ever ride again. I tied a fascinator over my head so that they couldn’t see the blood on my hair. When I went to bed, I kept my fascinator on and also when I went to school the next day. You were so loyal not to tell. It went on for several days, the lump getting larger and larger and I was really getting sick with a fever and still I would not tell. (That’s the Swede in me; never give up) The night the folks found out about it, I was sleeping with my mother on account of a high fever. I still had my fascinator on. Kind of peculiar they didn’t notice it. I got up during the night, fumbled to a wash bowl which had a lot of soapy water in it, took off the hood and soaked my head all over the top, O’ it felt so good. In the meantime, Mother was watching me as all mothers do and when morning came, I sure got a going-over. No, it wasn’t a scolding or anything like that but Mother cut the hair away from the sore and the family was flabbergasted. It was close to blood poison. I remember at the time, Selma was staying at Hilda’s; she had just had one of the babies, I think it was Crystal and Hilda had Childbed fever…She was very sick. They were living in Twin Creek Canyon at the time. Pete came out home to let the folks know how she was and to get some things for Selma and I guess I looked pretty bad. He went home and told them how bad I was and he “didn’t think I would make it” but this was before my soap-watch douche which I administered to myself. But both Hilda and I lived, Hilda to 94 years and I am now 81. The old saying is that “only the good, die young.” According to that, Hilda must have been a very wicked woman, but I refute that saying. Hilda was one of the best women I have ever seen, never talked about people, a wonderful mother and a good wife. I am not a religious person but I can say, “God Bless .” Mother had often said Hilda, a step-daughter, was better to her than her own daughters….Well, I had better read back on my letter or I will repeat myself and that is a sign of senility.
Lindon was just here. He brought his new Ford Station wagon to have it tested after three months. He bought it at the Ford shop here, got it $100 cheaper. We have so many Station Wagons in my family that when they are all here, it takes in a whole block. They are all identical, cream-colored. They include Lindon’s, Dick’s, Reyl’s, Arvill’s and Dwain’s. I hade him a lunch of lamb chops, baked beans and he ate one whole loaf of new HOMEMADE bread. He doesn’t get bread homebaked unless he comes here. Jackie bakes bread often.
We had a fine birthday for me. The folks brought salads and dessert, Angel food and strawberries. I had a nice 12 lb. turkey hen baking in the oven, mashed potatoes, creamed corn, fruit salad, celery and lots of dressing and gallons of coffee. We had such a congenial time. It is so much fun to get the whole bunch together once in a while. Ethel, my baby, has two lovely children, John Evan, age 10, his third year in college and Kristin, age 14, first year in High School. John is dark complexioned like his father and Kris is a blond like her mother.
Ethel went to a Business College this last year and took a business course and is now working in the insurance office that is Evan’s office and she likes it so much. She got tired of sitting home so much alone so she did something about it.
Well, Leona, I will go up along the coast while I am still writing about California and have you meet Barbara Jean and Dwain Smith’s family. Jean is Jessie’s youngest daughter. Jean loves to cook and sew and is a good homemaker. Dwain is a lieutenant in the Navy. They have three children, Brenda Susan, Kalen and Micah, who was born in the Hawaiian Islands where they lived for three years. They have bought a home in Sunnyvale and are now getting it furnished and the garden work started. Jean is a registered nurse but loves housework also.
Before I forget, the whole family gave me a lovely kitchen table and chairs to match. I thought the old ones were good enough but they said “no.” My old table was one we bought from Selma. She bought it from John Waldemar. It was solid oak and I suppose, a relic.
Well, leona, I go on into Utah and make you acquainted with some of your kinfolk. Phyllis is Jessie’s oldest child and Arvill, her husband. He was also in the Navy during the last war. They also have three children, Paul, Rebecca and Gary. They all have brown eyes, like their father. Arvill is so nice to me, fixes everything around my place. Phyllis is also a nurse as you know. They live in Mapleton, have a lovely home and garden.
The next on the list is Jacqueline and her husband, Rey L. Larsen. They have the largest family, five children - - three boys and two girls, the oldest Raye Lynn is 13 and Patricia, the youngest, six. They live in one of the suburbs of Provo. They have just finished their new home also. Jackie is a very good housekeeper and cook. Rey L. works at the steel plant. Arvill works there also.
Richard or Dick as we all call him, is Jessie’s youngest. He had it so good at home after the three girls married that he didn’t want to leave. He had a girl friend who thought otherwise so she led him to the altar. Jessie was afraid she would have an old bachelor on her hands. Dick and Sharon are building their new home in Provo. They have three children, the twins, Dennis and Denice and Bryant, who is about three years old. Dick is a contractor and building homes by the tract is his main occupation. Sharon if a registered nurse also. Well, the others in my family are Ethel and Jessie, Lindon and Evan. They are scattered in different places but we manage to get together occasionally. I manage to keep busy in my home taking care of the house and my garden.
As I am reminiscing about the past, I remember a few of our classmates who have died. We had 18 in the class of whom 9 were boys. Only two of the boys are still living, Charles De Graff and Royal Candland. The girls have a better record. Three have died, Ina, Winnie and Andra. Others who have died this last year, who I think you remember, are Eliza Staker, Lawrence Ericksen’s wife and Ben Staker’s wife, her sister. They are all relatives. We received word yesterday, from Duchesne County that George Stansfield died. His funeral is today. He was 82 years old. I won’t go to the funeral, the weather is too bad. The roads are very slippery.
Three tragic things happened this last year for three families. Three fathers committed suicide; Evan Nelson, Ray Bohne, our postmaster and last week, Lawrence Seeley, who hung himself. The first used guns.
This is Sunday and I can’t write today, don’t seem to collect my thoughts so I will wait until Monday to write some more of these memories. I don’t call this letter (I must look it up to see if I spelled it right) Memories. (It was spelled O.K.) Isn’t it awful to not have a good education. It shows all through this letter. At any rate, you won’t criticize my shortcomings.
Last night after the news on television (I have it going strong again) I went to bed but couldn’t sleep, trying to figure how to finish this letter. My thoughts got to wondering about you and I in our early school days when we went to the Methodist Church School. Miss Graham was the teacher, a missionary and good friend of all the children. The school was in the church building…..Everyone was so poor and when she had a church program for the children, she wanted them to look nice so she loaned them little articles of her clothing. I remember she put one of her white collars on me. I and two others girls were to sing together. I had to go home after school and as it was one and one half miles, I was late for the program so never got to show my white collar. Miss Graham later married Mr. Clemensen and was a happy wife, a mother to a number of children. I always said “She taught me the long and short division.”
All during these early school days, our father was paying tuition and also school taxes, so he said we must all go to public school. There were still six of our family going to school. I was adjustable (I had quite a time with that word) but you wanted to be with me all the time and I couldn’t shake you off. I thought you should find friends of your age. I was a long-legged gal and you were a little runt as I remember. I got very ugly with you took it out by running away from you when we got out in the sagebrush but I had to teach you to have some self-reliance someway. (I am slick. See how I can justify myself.)
Well, we grew up by leaps and bounds. I did, anyway - - I can’t say the same about you. I was taller than Arthur and two years younger and I sure found out that I was a good roustabout by all the family. All the long errands were put on my shoulders, or more aptly, my legs. But I had one wish, I wished desperately to be pretty when I grew up. The Waldemar Girls once said I would be the nicest looking girl in our family. I wanted it to happen but it never did. My complexion was bad and I got enemia that so many young girls had when maturing and Mother said I had yellow roses in my cheecks instead of red. My teeth were quite large but I kept them white by polishing them with powdered charcoal and a cloth. No one ever had a toothbrush. Some children especially boys had moss that covered two thirds of their teeth. I sure would bawl them out. This is what some people call the good old days; not for me! We started to the public school. Every one called it the “Mormon” school and the Wasatch Academy and the Methodists were called “Liberals.” I got along fairly well. Celia Rasmussen was my first teacher. I sure thought she was a mean teacher. The class marched to the front and sat on a row of seats and she would scream questions at us. I had never studied history before and could never answer any questions and her screaming at us just paralyzed me and I just cried. I asked one boy, Hyrum Syndergaard how he could answer the questions for he always had his hand up. He said to just learn one thing well and remember it and raise my hand. After that, I got along well. In the meantime, you were put in another room and were making your own friends. The house where we went to school became the city jail and is now a Mortuary. The next school I attended was the Simpson School House. I don’t know where you went during that year. I seem to have lost you. The next two or three years I was always in the “overflow” school, the old social hall beside the Mormon Church. This school was called the “overflow” because in the early winter or late fall, all the other class rooms were filled and the late students had to be in the overflow and that is where I landed a couple of years. I went over the same lessons three years. There was no place to go so I got a good understanding of the fifth reader. There was no grading in those days.
We, in the overflow had one advantage the other students didn’t have. The school being next to the meeting house, all funerals were held there as there was just one ward and the school was dismissed just as the funeral was over and all we girls went into the church and marched with the congregation to view the corpse. I have seen hundreds of them but they seem to fascinate me. I, even now, like to look at mummies in the museum. When I was a child, I buried chickens that had died and after a length of time would dig them up to see how they looked. Was I morbid! Or maybe I would have made a good archeologist or morturarian. Well, I am glad I escaped from those honorable professions. I remember well, the day we left our old school beside the church and marched into the new central school house, twelve rooms, three stories high. That was in 1896, the year of the Spanish-American War which I mentioned before. You and I graduated in 1900. We called us the Twentieth Century Class - - quite a thrill for us eighth grade graduates. I have seen some High School students I could help in their studies so I guess we learned something in those days of long ago.
There was one keen disappointment that I had when we graduated… I wanted a nice white, fluffy dress. Instead, my older sisters bought cream-colored cashmere and the style, I will never forget it, was buttoned in front with several darts for fullness, ankle-length, sleeves to the wrist with lace edging. How I hated it! Our wishes were never consulted or I know we would have had a better choice. We got so few clothes and then that! I will never forget it - - will you, Leona?
And my name - - it was always a frustration (I wanted to use that word but couldn’t find it in the dictionary. I looked for “fro” - - “fru” - - I was just deciding on another word to use instead and there is was, right before my eyes, without an effort.) I was named Elvina Elvira but instead, I was called Vine, Mine and I remember the folks called me “Biddy” (a much nastier name) when Father put a stop to it. I just remember this as I was too young or too dumb to know what it meant. It was in Swedish. Well, I have been Mina ever since I left school. I still sign deeds, documents, “Elvina” to set you straight as that name is in the records. Well, I out grew those times and I got real smart. Mother trusted me to pick out a store carpet and then wall paper for our parlor and I have always been real proud of my accomplishments and even the older members of the family complimented me on my good taste and I got over my frustrations. (I have to use that nice word again.)
I awakened this morning at four a.m. and in the quiet darkness, I could think of so many things to write about but when daylight comes they seem to scatter and I can’t gather them together again. Perhaps it is a good thing or they might sound silly to some one else reading them. I have always been inferior complex-,omded and most always it is a handicap. But I am efficient in many other ways and not at all effusive…(I just found that word in the dictionary and thought to use it in my letter.) I hope you don’t think I am an egotist. (I am sure you will have to get your dictionary before you, to read this last edification.)
I am almost through with this part of the narrative.
Jack always told me I was deep, he could not understand me. In fact, I know that, myself. Whenever I was hurt, imposed upon, I buried it down deep. I never betrayed a confidence and when certain persons went after my parents, I should have lashed out but I didn’t. Perhaps I was a coward at heart. To justify myself, I hated quarreling and contention and I buried my hurt a little deeper. I hate a “blabbermouth”. Most of all, I think they are trouble makers. The old saying “Silence is Golden”, if it is true, deep down in my well of silence, there must be a lot of “Golden something.” But it seems that the lid of my well suddenly popped off. Hence all this (I will look in the dictionary and find a suitable and dignified word) achievement acquired.
I am going to add some more to my “acquired achievement and write a little history of my town where I was born in 1883. Our Father was one of the first pioneers in Sanpete County. He and his mother came here as emigrants. The first settlers came in April and our Father and Grandmother in October of the same year. He helped build the fort as protection against the Indians and built huts and dug-outs inside the fort. Our Grandmother separated from Grandfather because he would not join the Mormon Church, which she did. He was a wealthy and educated man, a barrister or lawyer as we call it. Father met a girl, on the plains and married her later, had three children and then she died with the last baby. I must mention that Grandfather lived in…. (can’t read words here) Sweden…I know you know all this history but perhaps your children and grandchildren would like to hear about it, Leona. The history of Mt. Pleasant is an interesting one. Our Father married Mother when she was seventeen years old and she was stepmother to the two children. As the years passed she had nine children and had a hard life as all pioneers did. Mt. Pleasant was settled in the year 1850 – just 23 years before I was born. Soo - - - I am one of the relics. We have a number of them around, some more than 90 years old.
To get back to the narrative, the Presbyterian and Methodist Churches had a major role in the history of Sanpete County. A preacher from New York City because of ill health, was advised by Doctors to move west. He came later to Mt. Pleasant. But in the mean time, the Mormon Church was having troubles of its own. The High Officials of the Church decreed that all property of the citizens of all communities should turn over their property to the church and then come to the church for their wants. It was later related that one member asked the Bishop for a new shirt and he was told, “Wait for Brother So and So to pass away and you can have his shirt.” (Father said this really happened.) This last decree was more than the Swedes and a number of Danes could submit to so they apostatised. When Duncan McMillan arrived in Salt Lake City, he was told that the apostates in Sanpete County needed a spiritual advisor. So he came to Mt. Pleasant, rented a room put in a few benches and, of course, a ruler and he had a school; the beginning of Wasatch Academy and also the Presbyterian Church. The town has never grown in population but Wasatch Academy has grown tremendously in education and has contributed much to the culture of the west. They have also boarding facilities for several hundred students and have erected twenty buildings on ten city lots in the center of Mt. Pleasant. A large number of Mormon students got their High School education at Wasatch Academy as the town did not have a High School for a number of years.
To go back to the beginning, the Presbyterian Board built the Presbyterian Church on Main Street, had three class rooms in it. The front entrance was the charter class where I was initiated. It took me two terms to comprehend what it was all about. (One small incident happened; the teacher wanted us to recite poems. One of the poems was “I shot an arrow in to the air.” I told her I would recite it. Needless to say, I shot the arrow and that was all. She tried to prompt me but finally gave up and said, “Sit down.”)
Many amusing things occurred. Just a few weeks before Christmas, the Sunday School increased greatly but after Christmas, dropped back to normal. The board from back east sent barrels of toys to the school. They were very interested in the church and school. There was great excitement over the Christmas holiday and great preparations. Two huge trees were erected with tallow candles. The doors were not opened till everthing was in readiness and then there was a great rush and push to get in the building. The curtains were pulled apart and we could gaze at the lovely tree. We had been practicing Christmas songs and I knew them well. During the exercises, I was in the front seat being in the Charter class. I was singing at the top of my voice. (I can imagine what it was like.) When one of the teachers sitting on the stand laughed, I thought, at me, I closed up like a clam and I mean “clam.” It was terrible for me. I was having such a good time. But it helped some when I got my first “bought” doll off the tree, a small china doll, six inches tall, all china, even the bonnet. I remember walking home with the older sisters through the sagebrush patch, clutching my doll. This sage brush patch was to me, a potential hiding place for bears and other things such as ghosts. Often times, when I came home alone at dusk, I watched every big bush expecting something behind it to grab me. But I finally outgrew the bushes and could look over them and the bears disappeared.
The church members, with the help from those in the East and former residents who had moved away, built a new church which we still use and enjoy. All expenses of building the school and pay the teachers has been paid by the Presbyterian Board of Home Missions for 80 years without paying taxes for any of the privilege of this fine institution.
I remember the school having a reading room or a library just west of the Oman Hotel. Miss Fishback was in charge of the reading room. I think that was Mt. Pleasant’s first library. I must mention the Hotel’s being a public place, was owned and operated by Mr. and Mrs. Oman and a number of daughters, all good church members. All but one moved to California and I must mention one especially, Mrs. Olivia Banks. She married after moving to California. For every Easter she sent to the church, huge boxes of Calla Lilies to decorate the pulpit. This she has done for forty or more years. It added so much to the Easter spirit. Two of my children, Ethel and Paul graduated from Wasatch Academy. Jessie graduated from North Sanpete High.
To go back to our parents and how they happened to be here in Utah. When Father was in his teens, the Mormon Missionaries were busy in Sweden and of course, they had to go with money or script. Grandfather, being a generous and well-to-do person, fed them and gave them shelter, never knowing that they were going to break up his family. He thought of their religion as a joke but the joke was on him as they converted his wife and our father to their religion. There six children in the family; Andrew, Neils, Fredericka, Chasta and the twin girls, Hannah and Anna. After our father and grandmother left Sweden, Hannah and Fredericka, who were both married and had two children each, left their husbands and came to America. Fredericka with Neils and Emil. Hannah took one daughter, Stella with her and left the other one with Grandfather, who raised her. She never saw her mother again. Neils, Father’s brother and Fredericka with her two boys, moved to Colorado and years later moved to California.
I suppose Grandmother had a hard life as a pioneer in this new Country. In the “old country”, she had a beautiful home, servants to help with the children….Grandfather had men to work the farm. He was a “gentleman” farmer, a lawyer and also played the violin. When our Grandmother got to Utah, I think she rode in a wagon but Father pulled a handcart with this belongings all the way across the plains and when a few miles from their destination, some official of the church met them and took their cart wheels from them so they could not go back. When they reached Salt Lake City, Brigham Young ordered all the Scandanavians to move to the south of the territory which had a higher altitude and colder climate. He said they were tougher and could better stand the climate. When they reached Sanpete County, which was named after an Indian Chief, our father had to help build the rock fort and erect huts inside. Some lived in cellars. I don’t know how the years passed in between but after Father married first his first wife, her death and Mother’s marriage and having all those children (eleven in all), I suppose all anyone knew was to scratch and dif to feed so many mouths. We never had any clothes to speak of.
Father liked nice this after being used to them in Sweden. He built a huge adobe house on Main Street; had the first Charter Oak cook stove in Mt. Pleasant and also the first States carpet and States plow. All others were made by blacksmiths her in the mountains. He filled the lot with all kinds of fruit trees. I remember a few of them. Among the apples were Sweet Bough, Golden Sweet, Red June, Potato apple or Baldwin, Greening, a whole row of what we called pig apples as no one but pigs could eat them. They were iron apples. I remember on pear tree, apricot and egg plum, green gages and wild plums - - - that made a city lot full. After Father took a quarter section of the ground north of Mt. Pleasant, all wage and rocks, he started to build a reservoir to store water and have fish. He spent practically his whole life working on this project, plowing, blasting and scraping every minute of his life when not working on the farm. But you know, Leona, I believe he loved every minute of it. I remember, as you do, I am sure, how Mother harped and scolded about his reservoir. I believe the hated it and I think He could have spent some of these hours making things a little easier for her. Things he could have done, she had to do. Later on when it was finished, he thought it needed the clay scraped out so he emptied all the water and fish out and proceeded to scrape it. I never held water again and was just a dry spot for many years. After Father died and even now it is just a hole in the ground. The farm and home have been sold to others and some remodeling done on the house as the new purchasers were taking out the walls in the foundation, revealed a leather pouch with a lot of Swedish money hid in the wall. It had been plastered and left in the wall all these many years while we children went without shoes and clothing. The people won’t tell how much or won’t even discuss it. I think he got it as his inheritance after grandfather died and the Church was after it, so he hid it in fear of his life.
During these early years in Utah, polygamy was practiced in the state. I remember twelve or fifteen polygamist families in the town but when the U.S. police came to arrest them, they scattered. Some went to prison and a number took their youngest wife and went to Mexico. It was hard to catch them as they had signals when the U.S. Officers were coming and they would scatter and hide until the danger was over. Even today, there is a lot of it in Utah. The Church denies it but we have it in the County. And the welfare supports all the children. They break U.S. law but they surely get away with it. Where are these plural marriages performed but in the temple?
Everything I have written has been about Father and his family. Well, Mother was just the opposite. They were very poor. Grandfather was a baker and he baked bread for the Army so had to move around a lot. Mother was born on a little island which belongs to Denmark and when eight years old the Mormons converted them and convinced them that they had to move to “beautiful Zion” and what a comedown when they arrived! Mother drove a cow all the way across the plains and when they arrived, they were ordered to Moroni when she lived till fifteen years of age. Grandfather, who professed to being a good Saint, thought he should go into polygamy, so he and a crony were having a consultation about trading their fifteen-year old daughters for polygamist wives. Grandmother heard it and sent Mother off to Salt Lake City to get her away from such tradings. While in Salt Lake City, she had to do housework for a living. She obtained work at the home of Porter Rockwell. They had a daughter several years younger than Mother and oftentimes they would climb in the garret and investigate the contents of numbers of trunks that were stored there. They were filled with beautiful dresses and other female clothing. The daughter asked her father for some of the finery but he refused her. These trunks, no doubt, were stolen from murdered emigrants going to California. I don’t know how long she worked for Rockwell but she met Father when she was seventeen years old and they were married. Father showed me the house he met Mother in on the west street of Moroni. He was twelve years older than Mother and had the two children, Hilda and Andrew. She had nine children besides the two stepchildren. One, Elinora, died when two years of age, of typhoid fever. In those early days, some families lost all their children with Typhoid fever and Diptheria. In just a few days, the disease would strike and all would die. I remember how frightened I was of diphtheria. They were always isolated and a yellow flag nailed on the gate post. I always crossed the street so as not to be too close to the flag. As a preventative to all these diseases, we wore an “Asefedity” bag tied around our necks all winter long. Those school rooms had some smell. The dictionary says it is a gum from an Oriental tree which tastes and smells like garlic but to my mind, there was not comparison. No doubt, the diseases came from poluted water which was used in the homes. Every time when the water turn came around a number of barrels beside the creek were filled with water to settle and be used in the homes for cooking and cleaning. People didn’t know much about germs in those days. If you didn’t get sick you were lucky. I had typhoid when I was a baby and Elinora died when two years old. Jack’s father lost a little daughter, Maggie of the same sickness. I must try to put a stone over her grave this next year.
I must write about the Holidays. The Mormons had their Jubilee (which is called conference) when the members are all called together to get their instructions from the head of their Church. I remember weeing wagon loads of the faithful going past our home north of Mt. Pleasant, the women all dressed in their best dresses with parasols over their heads. They were covered with dust after travelling six miles over a dusty, bumpy road. The wagon was filled with chairs, with one spring leaf for the driver and either his best girl or his favorite wife, and . . . if they got along with each other, two of his favorite wives. I am sure they enjoyed it immensely. They always took their dinners along and ate in the shade along the way. I not being a Mormon never went along. These Jubilees were held twice a year; in Spring and in Fall and a great amount of wisdom was absorbed. The other great holiday for the Mormons was the great day, the Twenty-fourth of July, the day the Saints arrived in Zion. In Utah it was celebrated more than any other day.
I want to write of our Nation Holiday, the Fourth of July which the whole of United States of America loves. I have in mind the one celebration I remember when I was a child. The town was divided in two, one religious and one political. The “Mormons” were the Peoples Party; the Gentiles or non-Mormons were the “Liberals” and they could not agree on the celebration. So….the town had two parades and two Fourth of July Celebrations, one trying to out-do the other. I remember well, I thought our party, the “Liberals” had the prettiest Goddess of Liberty - - Alice Oman, sister of the Lady who sends the Calla Lilies to the Presbyterian Church every year. And the Mormons “Goddess” was Emma Frandsen, daughter of a Polygamist family. She was tall and graceful and not as pretty, I thought- - -They each had a brass band and both could make a lot of noise and it was a great day for the Danes and Swedes. Our mother gave us a 25 cent store order to spend. She sold some eggs to get this order. There was very little money here and when you sold any produce, the store would write you a store order signed by the store president. The Store was closed on Independence Day - - so – we couldn’t spend our 25 cents but it was a great day for us children anyway and of course, the older ones ended up dancing most of the night.
As I have mentioned before, the town was divided in politics as well as in religion and before election, each party had their bands and orators doing their best to win the election. The Liberal party always had a torch light parade before each meeting when all the men and boys of the party marched behind the land carrying their lighted torch. It was a great honor to be included in that parade. After the election, the People’s Party generally won for there were more people in the party - - but the Liberals were the most progressive and had more money. They formed the first bank, the “Commercial”; the Sanpete Co-op – always called the “Lower Store.” They sold everything from porous plasters to wagons and were always noted for being the best store south of Provo. There was also a harness shop where all the harnesses used in this city were made. The town grew in business and prosperity but not in population in the next few years. I remember the great excitement in the county when the railroad was being built in 1890. People travelled to Indianola in buggys and wagons to watch them work, all labor having to be with horses, ploughs and scrapers and every mile made was watched with interest. The Sunday the first passenger train came to Mt. Pleasant, there was a great celebration and for years after, the main interest on Sunday was to walk to the depot to watch the train come in. At this date, we do not have a passenger train, only freights which come through several times a week. Things have changed, Leone, since we were young. The old home still stands but has been remodeled. The reservoir which our Father kept full of water is dry most of the time - - just a little puddle in the middle. The long straw shed which we played on so often and in which we hunted eggs, is all gone. The only things left are the fruit trees which we planted and the well from which we drew water to keep them growing. And now there are only two of us left and two in-laws. But I don’t feel alone at all with my 29 member family.
I have not mentioned the deaths in the family, of which there are many, two of which are so close to me - - Paul and Jack; Mother and Father and all the brothers and sister and in-laws. I am the only one left of the in-laws side of the family. George, who died recently, left me the last of the in-laws on the Stansfield side of my family. On our Father’s side there are several cousins, you and I, Will Anderson, Emil and Ebba. Bill is getting very old, close to 90 and I think, quite a guy. I am going to quote a poem which he composed and gave to Jack. He called it, “Our Neighbor’s House” _ _

The old house across the way
In silence stands, from day to day.
The light that shone in the windows, bright
Are darkened now throughout the night.
* * *
We miss the curl of the chimney smoke,
The greeting of the neighbor fold,
Favors granted within call,
Extended kindly, great and small.
* * *
We miss them, since they have gone away
How long, we wonder, may they stay
When out the chimney, smoke rolls black
The neighbors, then, we know, are back.

He composed hundreds of poems. I don’t think that any of them were ever published, but he always brought them here for Jack and me to read. I call on him once in a while.
I remember two things of the “olden” days before the railroad came into the valley. A large band of Indians came and pitched their camp or Wigwams just three blocks west of our home, on the Pearson farm. It was just sagebrush then. The Indians were quite harmless at this time. The most they did, was beg for food and steal whatever they collectively or individually desired. I was surely happy when they finally moved away again ….I think the reason for my fright was that the older people threatened the children that they would give them away to the Indians if they didn’t behave. I worried so much about it that I would dream of being caught and taken away. The other item was the city jail. It was located where the High School now stands. It was a large city block and this jail was in the center of it. It looked so formidable to me. There was an adobe house and on the outside, a tall lumber fence, so tall no one could climb over. I remember standing on the sidewalk looking at that formidable object.
Mt Pleasant was a typical frontier town in the early days. There were five or six saloons going full blast and a lot of gambling, shooting. A banker was sitting at his desk and a shot him. The killer was never caught. When Jack was a small boy, he was riding on a horse with a Federal Marshall who was in the county to catch the Polygamists, when someone started shooting at him. He told Jack to hold onto him right and he made the horse gallop as fast as he could to get beyond gun range. These marshalls were just hated. This incident occurred up by the Round Hills where Jack’s dad was farming and the Marshall was taking Jack back to town.
As I sit her thinking if these things that happened so long ago, I realize how many things have changed. The large school house we were so proud of was torn down last year and a new one storey building put up. The children are hauled to school in busses and dinner cooked for them at noon. I often see children in the 8th grade and High School who can neither read or spell but they know so much about science. I guess it is the “times.”
And I think what a wonderful age it is to have been a part of; all the inventions . . . . cars, planes, television, rockets, washers, dryers, electric cookstoves, water heaters, freezers and everything electric, even milking cows. We older people, who have seen the earlier times, realize it more than the younger generation, who take it as a matter of course, so to speak. And the great strikes the medical profession are making. Time will come when there will be a cure or preventative for a great many diseases; all in this generation.
I want to write of an incident that happened to Mother before I change the subject. We, the family, were all in the field. Mother was alone at home when the cows broke out of the corral and got into the Lucerne field. Two of the three cows got bloated and were down, dying, when Mother saw them. She had to work fast to save them so she got a scissors and a block of wood, held the blade of the scissors over the paunch of the cow and hit it with the wood club until it penetrated the stomach. She saved both cows. We though she was a heroine.
I am going to mention a few things on the other side of my family or the Stansfield side.
I read a book a short time ago about the Stansfields. Several hundred years ago, they were residing in France, side by side with a neighbor named Draper. They all emigrated to England and bought estates side by side where they prospered. There were two James Standsfields, James I and James II. I have heard Jack’s father speak of them many times. Then the Mormon missionaries came and converted them and they came to Utah. One of Grandpa Stansfield’s Uncles tried to get them to stay in England. He promised to make them the richest Stansfields in England but the lure of America was too great. So his mother and the eight children came here. The father, who followed later found when he got there that Grandmother had married another man and when he got here, she and her new husband had fled to California leaving all the children. Grandpa Stansfield was nineteen and he had to support them and the little girl, Lizzie, had to keep house. The old man’s name was Sam. He never saw his wife again. He died here in Mt. Pleasant and is buried here. The rest of the family moved to Idaho and California.
And on Grandma Stansfield’s side of the family …….She was a Nielson, her name, Sophie, her father’s, Frederick Nielson, mother’s name, Margaret. They were all born in Denmark. When they joined the Mormon Church, they were told to leave at once for America. The children were sick with the measles when they left and they were many weeks on the ocean. Their food and water ran out. The youngest child died and was buried at sea. They finally arrived in Utah and it was not like it had been pictured at all. In Denmark, he was a tailor by trade and had always lived in a large city. He was not used to farming and they nearly starved to death. On crossing the ocean, the girl who died, was so homesick and sick that she kept asking to be taken home again, where they had a little white gate. They apostatized when the other Scandinavians did. Grandmother Nielson died when in her sixties and Grandfather was 94 years old when he died. They had had enough Mormonism to last them the rest of their lives. They had four daughters; Sophia, Maria, Phena, Lizzie; and one son, Alfred.
I often wonder why we didn’t question our Father about his life in Sweden. Ne never spoke of it. I imagine he got bored with life in Sweden and the thought of going to the “New World” as they called it, was very enticing because I don’t think it was the Mormon Church, but I think the Mormon Church was an opportunity for him to break away. He was nineteen years old, just the age for adventure. But with Grandmother; that was another thing. She had a paralytic stroke a few years later and was bedridden, couldn’t speak at all and each one of the children kept her in their homes three months apiece. They all lived in graneries or cellars. She wanted to go back to Sweden but Grandfather wouldn’t take her back. However, he was generous with money for her support. Finally, Aunt Annie Fredricksen made a permanent home for her till she died and got money to buy a farm. She lived seven years after her stroke. We.., I think, if she hadn’t come to Utah, where would we be, so that change changed lots of lives.
Well, a lot of these memories are silly but overlook that part. I may think of more of our early life here in Mt. Pleasant.

HISTORY OF ANDREW PETER JENSEN

HISTORY OF ANDREW PETER JENSEN

Andrew Peter Jensen was born September 28, 1837 on a large farm or estate called Kornheddinge in Kyrkheddinge, Malmahus County, Sweden. His father, Per Jonsson, was a prosperous farmer, and had his own grist mill among the many buildings on the farm. His mother was Hanna Hansson of Esarp in the same county. The mother’s work was more to manage the household and oversee the women who were hired to help, rather than to do the work herself. His father was also an alderman and a juryman.
The land had been in the family as far back as records are available and as owners of the land they had to furnish troops. At that time Sweden was not engaged in any war, but did maintain a standing army, which probably Andrew would have had to join.
Andrew was the third child in a family of eight. The oldest daughter was Kerstina, then Annie (who lived only thirteen months), then Andrew, the twins Anna and Hanna, next Nils, Elna, and Fredricka. As was the custom in Sweden and Denmark, if a child, another one born later was sometimes given the same name.
As a child Andrew herded geese. He had to walk two Swedish miles (6 miles) to school. He became well educated, was a good dancer and liked outdoor sports such as skating and skiing. He grew to manhood assisting his father and as the older son took many responsibilities.
The Missionaries came. He and the girl he later married, Anna Mansson Stangberg, were converted to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. She was baptized April 1, 1857, and he was baptized April 8, 1858.
In 1859 they decided to emigrate to Utah and get married after they reached their destination. His father was opposed to his joining the Church and going but his mother had either joined the Church by this time or did so within a few years. On March 14, 1862, she left Sweden, her husband, part of her family, and taking two children, Annie and Nils with her, came to Utah to join Andrew and his family.
Andrea and Anna went to Liverpool and engaged passage on a sailing vessel, the William Tapscott. The ship’s log records that Jens Jonson, aged 25, was with Andrew. They left Liverpool April 11, 1859. I t was a rough voyage. They were tossed here and there for six long weeks, often hungry and sick. Two children died and were buried at sea. They arrived in New York, took the train to the end of the line, then walked.
At Florence, Nebraska, they joined the handcart company of Captain George Rowley and started June 9, 1859, on the trek across the plains. It was a long wearisome journey. They walked the more than 1000 miles, taking all they could in the handcart, but each person was allowed only 20 pounds, which included their baggage, cooking utensils, etc., some things had to be left behind. There were 236 persons, 60 handcarts, six ox teams and eight wagons in the company.
At first each person was allowed one pound flour per day and two pounds of bacon per week. This was their main diet. Sometimes an emigrant train ahead would kill a buffalo and after using all they could would leave a ticket on the carcass giving the date when it was killed so that those who followed would know if it was fit to be used for food.
Many brought nice clothing and jewelry. These were traded along the way with the Indians and whites for food. Whatever they had was shared with the others of the company.
It was quite an ordeal to ford the cold deep, swift rivers. In crossing the Platte River, they were at first able to wade, the water became deeper and deeper until finally the handcarts floated on top. Some days they were able to travel only three miles and sometimes fourteen. The company met several apostate groups coming back from Salt Lake City who tried to persuade them to turn back.
Provisions got very low. On August 12, two of the company oxen died from drinking alkali water and on the following day, they cut away and used the best part of the meat. On August 23, an oxen was slaughtered and the meat divided into portions of two pounds to each person. By this time provisions were so low that there were days when a spoonful of meal each was all that could be had and this they stirred into water and drank it. Some made soup of willows and cow hide. The hair was scraped off the hide, it was then pounded, soaked, cut into pieces and made into soup. When their shoes wore out they made shoes of buffalo hides.
Someone was on guard every night for protection against the Indians. The wolves were a menace, too. The people were cautioned not to stray from camp. An aged woman and a younger person were lost this way, eaten by the wolves. Bits of hair, grey and blond, were found.
They did have some enjoyment, though, --in the meetings at night, and singing and dancing around the camp fires. There were many good singers in the company. Captain Rowley had a very good voice.
They arrived in Salt Lake City Sunday, September 4. When word reached the city that the Handcart Company was near, all available horses and vehicles were used to meet the company and escort the worn out travelers to the square, there provisions donated by the people of the various wards were brought to them. They were so thankful, for it seemed they hadn’t had a square meal since they left the “Old Country”. The brass band came to meet them, too.
Due to exposure and hardship, the legs of most of the women had become sore and bleeding to the knees and it was such a relief to be about to ride the last few miles. But Anna, like many others who have never been used to hardship, did not complain.
She and Andrew were married in Salt Lake, he worked there for a short time, then they again took their handcart and walked the long rough road to Mt. Pleasant where a new settlement was being formed. At this time, men who were farmers in the old country were sent to Sanpete and Cache Counties. These two counties were called the granaries of Utah. Grandfather came from the Skane Province which was the grain producing area in Sweden.
At first they lived in the fort for protection against the Indians. They had two children, Andrew and Hilda. On April 4th, 1864, their marriage was solemnized in the Endowment House in Salt Lake City. He was ordained a Seventy. In 1865 another son Anthone was born, but Grandmother and the baby died in June 1865.
On April 4, 1868, he married Jacobina Wilhelmina Lumblad of Moroni, Utah. To them were born ten children, Annie, Selma, Eleonora (who died at the age of two years), Lurinda, Arthur, Elvina, Leona, Elmer, and Afton. He became inactive in the Church.
By this time they had built a fine six room home on the farm north of town, had lovely lawns and flowers, had a big orchard, and built a reservoir primarily for irrigation purposes. It was also a place to fish and in the winter time many skating parties were held here. Ice was cut and the big ice house filled for summer use.
Grandfather kept abreast of happenings in his old home. He subscribed for the Swedish newspapers and read them whenever he was resting. He appreciated his privileges as an American Citizen and never missed voting on election day. Another thing he never missed was the big Ringling Brother’s Circus when it came to town.
He served in the Black Hawk War doing his share in guarding against the Indians. For many years he was Vice President of the North Creek Irrigation Company.

JENS GOTTFREDSON, PIONEER OF SEVIER AND SANPETE COUNTIES

JENS GOTTFREDSON, PIONEER OF SEVIER AND SANPETE COUNTIES
Jens Gottfredson was born in Jetsmark, Hjorring, Denmark, 9 April 1810 and was christened 15 April 1810. He scarcely knew his mother only that her name was Mette Christine, and that she was a widow, or so he thought. When he was very young he was bound out as an apprentice to learn the coopers trade. The master was very strict and grandfather became a proficient workman, first as assistant and later as master mechanic. (I remember seeing the coopers planes and other tools.)
The circumstances of his birth were not unusual at that time in Denmark. His mother had two children out of wedlock by two different men and Jens was the second of the two children, as we descendants learned fifty-three after his death, from church micro filmed records. His mother had registered his father as Gotfred Christopherson, hence the name Jens Gotfredson. It is not known how the spelling was later changed. Jens Gotfredson never knew, nor did his son Peter. Hens had his mother sealed to a man named Lars Mulli, of whom he had heard her speak kindly, and she was also sealed to Erastus Snow, apostle, as was the custom in the early days of the church if they did not know the father’s name. These sealings, of course, had to be done over after the instructions of President Woodruff. Jens never knew that his mother later married a man named Anders Thomasson and that he had two brothers and a sister by this marriage, the oldest only seven years younger than he. He was just a displaced person but he gained two fine wives and the Gospel and many descendants. He has now been sealed to his mother and the man she married.
Little other is known about his boyhood. He served in the Danish Army for six years and held the rank of corporal before he was married.
He married Karen Jensen, August 12, 1845, who was born May 23, 1812 at Westerby, Oland, Denmark. She came from a well-to-do family who kept several servants and had large buildings and barns and kept a number of teams, cows, sheep, pigs and poultry of different kinds.
The journal of his son Peter, from which more of this information is taken, says that his people all belonged to the Luthren or State Church, but were readers of the Bible and learned many things for themselves, and Jens and Karen joined the Baptist feeling it conformed more nearly with the Bible teachings.
During the early winter of 1851, two Mormon missionaries came to the house and asked to stay over night, to which Grandfather told the Mormons they were not to preach to Gospel to his wife. They thought they should not deceive him. One of the missionaries was Christian D. Fjelsted. During the evening Jens told the Mormons of the doctrine of the Baptists, or baptism by immersion, as was the method in the days of the Savior, and also other beliefs that were scriptural, with which the Elders agreed. They said, “That is not all” and opened their Bible and read and discussed doctrine this family had never heard before. They invited the Elders to come back again, which they did.
The oldest son, Peter Gottfredson, was a little lad, only five years old at the time, but he remembered these missionaries distinctly. His impression was that they were good men. The even spoke to the boy, which pleased him and made him feel important.
It was not long until the parents were converted and were baptized in December 1851, when they had to cut quite a thick ice to perform the ordinance. (By Geneological Records a Baptism by proxy was performed again in 1932.) At the time of the Baptisms and joining the church they had three children: Peter the oldest, born 17 April 1846, Hans born 4 August 1848, and Mette Christine named for her grandmother born 24 August 1850, known later as Aunt Stine Tuft. On 2 July 1852 was born another son they named Joseph Smith Gottfredson, which really caused complications. The law said new babies must be registered in the State Church, but the Priest said he would not have such a degraded name on his records. (The records show that Karen also had a daughter, Annie, born out of wedlock, 21 March 1838, who married an uncle of Mrs. Lars (Marie) Jacobsen of 365 West 6th North of Logan, Utah. His name was Jens Christian Jensen and she was the second wife. Mrs. Jacobsen’s daughter did the writing for her mother and she is Mrs. Andrew Anderson (Treenie) and lives at 295 West 5th North, Logan, Utah. It is not known if this girl emigrated or if she is sealed to the parents.)
After joining the church persecutions were heaped upon them. Jens was set apart as a local missionary and companion of Elder Fjelsted. While they were out proselyting a mob gathered and seized them and let them down a deep well in the ice old water with the long rope. They said they were “baptizing them by immersion, etc. Even Peter who was with his Grandfather in Westerby did not escape. (Tried to make him swear.)
The ambition of the parents was to gather with the Saints in America and every effort was put forth in that direction. Where they lived in Denmark the soil was very poor and sandy, having no doubt been washed up from the ocean. The native vegetation was small brush called heath, and there were wild blueberries which they gathered. The houses were few and scattered with small garden adjoining. Most of the land was unoccupied. A sluggish stream ran through the country, called Red Oe. A poor quality of grass grew along its banks where water over-flowed in the spring of the year. The fuel was mostly peet or turf, a sod dug out of bogs in square blocks and laid on the ground to dry. It was mostly decayed vegetation, and served the purpose very well. There was not much money.
The mother arranged to have Peter go to Westerby in the fall of 1852 (age 6 years) and live with his grandmother to help them save for their future journey to Zion. His Grandfather had died and his Grandmother had married their main hired man, whose name was Peter Christian Ton. Peter called him “grandfather”. He stayed with them for almost three years and learned to love them as his parents. When he went there his parents lived in a small town called Kaas, but then they moved to Aalborg, a city of considerable size, and Jens took up the business of peddling. He would buy goods at auctions and other ways and then go to the country where there were no stores and sell his wares. He bought some skates for Peter and his wife took them with her when she went to visit her people, which wasn’t often. On this occasion Peter had not seen his two brothers and sister for two years. The summer of 1855 Peter’s grandmother who had been an invalid for six years with rheumatism, died. Then Jens, in the fall, went to get his son as the time to leave was nearing. The step-grandfather had married their main hired girl and she was not as kind as his grandmother had been. Jens and Peter walked all the way from Oland to Aalborg, a distance of six Danish miles or 24 American miles.
They were prepared to make the journey to America in December. Peter was the family historian it seems, and described this journey in his journal.
Andrew Jenson – “History of the Scandanavian Mission” reads as follows:
“On Thursday, Nov. 29, 1855, a company of Scandanavian Saints numbering 447 souls sailed from Copenhagen, on board the ship “Loven”, bound for Utah, under the direction of Elder Canute Peterson, who was returning from his mission to Norway. After a pleasant journey they reached Keil in Holstein, and thence the emigrants continued their journey by rail to Gluckstadt, thence by steamer to Grimsby, England, and thence by rail to Liverpool where the Scandanavian emigrants were joined by 42 British and 30 Italian Saints and went on board the ship “John J. Boyd.”
The Jens Gottfredson family had a few days visit in Copenhagen with Jens’ older sister whose name had been Karen Kirstine Madsen, who was married to a man named Hans Jensen Trelde. They had a coffee and tea shop in the big city.
Historian Jenson quotes Elder Charles R. Savage, one of the emigrating missionaries as follows: “We left Liverpool on Wednesday Dec. 12, 1855 at 7:00 p.m. and had a fine run down the channel, sighted Cape Clear on the Friday Morning following, and had mild weather with a fair wind for two days after. During this time we had leisure to devise plans for the maintenance of order and cleanliness during the voyage. Notwithstanding that our company consists of Danes, Norwegians, Swedes, Icelanders, Italians, English, Irish, Scotch the rules adopted proved efficient in maintaining the spirit “Entente cordiale” among us all. The Saints by sound of trumpets, called to prayer morning and evening. Meetings were also frequently held in the Danish, English and Italian languages during the voyage. On the whole we enjoyed ourselves first rate, notwithstanding the gales and hurricanes we experienced, from the breaking of the fine weather in longitude 15 degrees to our anchoring off Sandy Hook.
About midway on our passage we fell in with the clipper ship “Louis Napoleon,” from Baltimore to Liverpool, laden with flour with all her masts and spars carried away and leaward bulwarks stove in. Upon nearing the ship we found her in a sinking condition. The Captain and crew desired to be taken off, which was done. This acquisition was a great advantage to us as the bad weather, sickness and exhaustion from over-work has made quite a gap in our complement of sailors. We had much sickness on board from the breaking out of measles, which caused deaths among the Danish, chiefly among the children. In the English and Italian companies we lost three children. The weather got worse after crossing the Banks, so much so that we were driven in to the Gulf Stream, three times and many of the sailors were frost-bitten. Our Captain got superstitious on account of the long passage. However, the Lord heard our prayers and I his own due time we arrived at our destination. On the evening of the 15th of February, we were safely anchored having been 66 days out of Liverpool.
“Our supply of water was almost exhausted. We had on our arrival only about one days supply of water on board. The provisions were very good and proved abundant to the last. On our taking the pilot on board he informed us that there had been many disasters during the months of January and February; many ships had been wrecked. We had made the passage without the loss of a single spar.”
The Historian continues: “On the 10th of February 1856, the emigrants landed in New York, and after tarrying a few days at Castle Garden, the journey was continued on the 21st or 22nd by rail via Dunkirk and Cleveland to Chicago, where the company, according to previous arrangements, were divided into three parts, one of which, consisting of about 150 souls went to Burlington, Iowa, Another to Alton, Illinois, and the third to St. Louis, Missouri. Most of those who went to Burlington and Alton, remained in those places for a year or more, working to earn means wherewith to continue the journey to Utah. The part of the company which went to St. Louis arrived in that city on the 10th of March and soon afterward to Florence, Nebraska, where they joined the general emigration that crossed the plains in 1856.”
In Peter Gottfredson’s journal he mentions that Canute Peterson became the President of the Sanpete Stake of Zion. He was the father-in-law of Anthon H. Lund.
Of the journey Peter says: “We had a rough voyage over the Atlantic. We had head winds most of the way. When we were about one third of the way over, we were driven back to the coast of Ireland. The vessel was on fire twice and one time it was serious. It started in the Captains cabin and burned through the deck and filled the ship with smoke so the passengers had to go on deck. Some trunks and other baggage that was on fire had to be thrown in to the sea. There was much sickness on board; as I remember more than thirty deaths. I will here describe a funeral at sea. After the customary services the corpse was sewn into canvas or sheet, a large lump of coal at the feet. A plank raised and the dead would slide into the sea fore-most and all was over.”
“Several of the sailors were disabled and some died. The captain was very cruel to the sailors. At one time the vessel sprang a leak; water was running in fast; about thirty Sailors were working over a double lever pump with ropes attached to the ends of the levers. One sailor was not working to suit the captain. He picked up a rope with a heavy hook on one end, and from behind struck the sailor in the head with the hook killing him instantly. I stood close by watching the pumping and saw it, as did others. The ship was getting short of able bodied sailors to man the ship and the captain planned to draft passengers to take the place of disabled sailors.”
“One morning I had occasion to go on deck very early and looking ahead saw what I thought was a steamship. I sent below and told the folks we would soon be to land as a steamship was not far ahead. Some of the passengers went up to see, and when the captain turned his glass on it, he discovered that it was a wrecked vessel. What I thought was a smoke stack was the sump of a broken mast. Part of the bulwarks had been torn away by the sea and the waves had swept over the ship and one of the sailors had been swept overboard.”
“Mutiny occurred on our ship when our captain did not want to rescue the sailors of the disabled ship. The Mates did, so they put the captain in confinement. The first mate and two sailors took a small boat and rowed to the disabled ship. The second mate took charge of our ship. They hung the boat by ropes from the end of the yard-arm. (A long timber fastened across the mast, about twenty feet above the deck and reached out on either side a little past the side of the ship. The large sail was fastened to it.) The boat was hung to the end of this arm. The rocking of the ship set the boat swinging with the three men in it. The mate in the back with the steering oar and the two sailors each with a large oar were ready to pull when the boat struck the water. The boat went out with a big swing; the ropes ran through the pulleys and the boat struck an out-going wave. It went through the foam and out of sight on the further side of the wave. It looked as if the boat had been swallowed up in the sea, but soon we saw it gliding up the side of another wave a hundred yards from our ship. Our ship was turned around, for a first the wrecked ship was on our right, after a little it was behind us, and then on our left and further away.”
“The sailors from the wrecked ship came to our ship in a large white boat that held all of them, as I remember, thirty five. They pulled up beside our ship and a rope ladder was let down which they came up on. Then their boat was hoisted onto our ship. Our Mate and the two sailors were hoisted up in their boat. The wrecked ship was loaded with flour from America to England. It was left to drift where it would. We watched it as long as we could see it. Among the rescued sailors were two negroes, the first I had ever seen.”
“At one time the captain said to Canute Peterson, “If I hadn’t D---d Mormons aboard I would have been in New York six weeks ago.” Peterson said to him. “If you hadn’t Mormons aboard you would have been in hell six weeks ago.”
The drinking water got bad before they landed and provisions gave out, except some hard sea biscuits. Jens had brought his Danish Military uniform and sword, gun and bayonet, which had been presented to him. They were sewed up in canvas. When we landed they could not be found. They had either been taken or lost. He wanted to keep them as relics. When we landed in New York it was said that the captain was not on the ship. It was thought he had gone away in a fishing or trading boat. Several had met the ship a day or two before it landed.”
Apostle John Taylor was at New York to look after the emigrants when they landed. He was very kind and attentive to them. We stayed there about a week, says Peter, we learned that it was providential that we were so long on the sea; for when we got to New York the trains had been snow-bound for several days after we landed and we would have been on our own expense. The ship company furnished the provisions as long as were on board the ship. When we left New York the roads were yet in a bad condition and we had to travel very slow. I remember in places the men would walk beside the train.”
The Gottfredsons stopped in Alton, Illinois. The children picked up the new language very fast. It was harder for Jens (grandfather). I remember when he was in his 80’s he still talked Danish to Peter (father), but insisted they answer him in English.
Jens got a job at a brick kiln at Alton, Illinois at a dollar a day. In June he and Peter took chills and fever and were confined to their beds for some time.
Grandmother Karen was afflicted with what the doctor called “weaver consumption”. She had woven on a loom most of her life and lint from the material was breathed into her lungs which caused irritation. He condition grew worse and on July 4th she passed. This was 1856. She had dreamed about the trip to this point several times and told the family she was not going to reach Utah.
A young girl who was helping them out in their trouble, and who had come over on the same ship, consented to marry Jens and the ceremony was performed by a returning missionary, Christian Christiansen. They moved to St.Louis, Missouri and stayed there about a year. Jens took up work at the Filley Foundry, where the Charter Oak stoves were made. The children went to Sunday School there and learned the names of the letters in the alphabet in the English language, and the boys went to school the winter of 1856-57. The second grandmothers name was Karen also. This marriage was the 12th of August 1856, and was very successful. She was a good woman and the only grandmother any of us ever knew.
The spring of 1857 the family attempted the trip to Utah with Christiansen’s hand cart company and sailed up the Missouri river to Florence, Nebraska. When the hand cart company had traveled about 120 miles up the Loup Fork river, they crossed over and camped on the west side in a cottonwood grove. The river was a fourth of a mile wide at the ford and had a quicksand bottom. That night grandmother gave birth to a premature baby girl who lived only three days. Is it any wonder? The baby was blessed and named Platine for the Platt river of which the Loup Fork is a tributary. The company went on and left them there. This baby was born 17 July 1857.
They place the mother on the hand cart and pulled her back over the river and up north to a small settlement called Genoa. Genoa had been settled that spring by a few Mormon families. There Jens staked off a quarter section of land adjoining the settlement and built a dug-out for the family shelter in the side of a hill. There he left the family and went back to Omaha to get work. He had no chance to send them food and they went without. The people raised a little frosted corn and buckwheat which ripened. The family got a little of that; ground it in a coffee mill and mixed it with wild plums and sour grapes that grew in plenty along Beaver Creek and the Loup Fork river. They did not see bread for more than a month. Later Jens got a chance to send them a sack of flour and some bacon.
In November grandmother hired a man with a yoke of oxen to take them to Omaha where they stayed until spring. It was there they heard of Johnston’s army going to Utah to fight Mormons. The neighbors were kind and tried to persuade them not to go to Utah. That was still their desire, so when a small company of emigrants stopped there from Denmark to Utah they got their chance. With this company was grandmothers Sister and her fiancée, Rasmus Olsen, and her brother Peder and his wife. Olson was quite well-to-do. He bought four yoke of oxen and a new Schuttler wagon and took the Gottfredsons with them to Salt Lake City. The company consisted of six wagons with emigrants under the leadership of Iver N. Oversen, a returning missionary from Pleasant Grove, Utah, and also two other men who were loaded with merchandise taking to their homes in Utah.
Before they reached Fort Laramie they fell in with a company of soldiers going to Utah. They were part of Johnston’s Army who had been sent back East for supplies. The emigrants traveled with the soldiers until they reached Devil’s Gate on the Sweetwater and were treated fine. They were allowed to camp just outside their picket line and were often given groceries by the soldiers. They night-herded the emigrants oxen with their stock that they were driving loose. They had big mule teams.
Some of the oxen were alkalied and died which made the loading too heavy for those left. The people had to leave some of their things there. Among those things were some new stoves, which they buried by a roadside hopeing to recover them later. Now all who could had to walk. Peter was 12 years old now and his father allowed him to go on with the soldiers to help drive the loose stock. They gave him a mule to ride. The troops pushed on to Fort Bridger faster than the ox teams could travel. Peter stayed there until the others arrived.
They arrived in Salt Lake City on the 20th of September 1858. Many of the people who had moved to the southern valleys on account of the army had moved back, but some had decided not to return, so homes in the city were cheap. Jens bought a house and lot containing an acre and a quarter on the south-west corner of the ninth ward for sixty dollars and paid for it with a plush over-coat rated at thirty dollars and a Colt revolver that Hans had found in the plains rated at thirty dollars. The house was one large room built of adobe with slab and dirt roof. The following summer they raised thirty five bushels of volunteer wheat on the lot worth two dollars a bushel. It had been planted in wheat the summer before.
After arriving in Salt Lake, Jens worked at his trade making cooper ware, casks, barrels, tubs, etc. He got two first premiums at the fair; one in 1858, the other the next year. The boys got small jobs and made a little money. After school was out the next spring, Peter earned enough to buy a young cow and an old wagon. Jens traded his house lot for a yoke of oxen, and they moved to Ephraim in Sanpete County. Peter worked for and lived with the Oscar Winters family two winters and a summer. The spring of 1860, Jens moved the rest of the family to Mt. Pleasant. He bought a piece of ground on the north-west corner of town and built a house on it of rocks picked up on the land.
The next four years of Peter’s journal is mostly all about himself and his jobs and experiences, mentioning the family only when he went home for a short time between jobs.
The spring of 1864 Jens contracted to take the Mt. Pleasant dry stock and part of the Mt. Pleasant sheep, to herd in Thistle Valley. Peter had herded before so he was asked to manage it. The two younger brothers would watch the sheep. Peter had intended leaving home that spring to get work where he could get better wages, but his father needed his help and said he would give him a hundred dollars for five months that he should keep the stock in Thistle Valley. Jens had a written contract to the effect that he should have his pay in wheat at two dollars a bushel. He was to have two dollars a head for cattle and 50 cents for sheep. Some wages for a boy of 18! Also he was old enough to enlist in the army, but his folks talked him out of it. They didn’t draft the boys for the Civil War.
The boys had some difficulty with the Indians. They said that was their ground and that the stock ate the grass and they wanted beef and mutton for it. They frequently brought an order for mutton from Bishop Seely and always wanted the best. After much trouble that Peter tells about in detail, the Indians managed to take the boy’s supplies and bedding and left them with only straw ticks. They left and drove the sheep to Mt. Pleasant and other men went and gathered up the cattle. There are so many interesting things that my sketch is getting too long, but I must tell the results of this herding deal. He says:
“During the summer of 1864 there was a gold rush into Idaho and Montana. Large companies of Easterners passed through Utah in all sorts of conveyances and on horses, mules and donkeys and some on foot carrying their supplies. The price of provisions got high. Flour sold in Montana as high as a hundred dollars a sack, a dollar a pound, and other provisions in proportion. Wheat raised to six dollars a bushel in Salt Lake. Jens had some difficulty getting his pay for herding, in wheat, according to the contract. Some wanted to sell their wheat and pay with greenbacks. It was at the close of the war of the rebellion and greenbacks were only worth thirty cents on the dollar. Confederate money was worth nothing at all. Merchandise was not much higher than it had been formerly, or before the war.” Peter tells how well he came out on the deal so Jens must have done as well.
This same year the authorities called a number of families to settle the Sevier Valley. Jens was called to Omni, now Richfield. This call had come early in the year, but because of the herding contract, he had been excused until fall. He sold his house and land in Mt. Pleasant to Hans C. Davidsen of Pleasant Grove for a thousand dollars and got most of his pay in stock and teams. The weather turned cold and they tell of some hard experiences they had. They nearly froze on the trip but made it in two days. The rest of the family came out in the Spring of 1865. The others had been there about a year and had quite a start of log houses and dug-outs covered with dirt. A fort wall had been started around the public square and a rock meeting house was built on the south-west corner of it.
Jens got two town lots a block west of the north-west corner of the fort and built a dug-out to live in while he built a house of adobe. He disposed of some of his young stock and joined Bishop Higgins in building a grist mill on the spring creek north-west of town. They got it finished in time to make flour, such as it was, before spring.
During March and April 1865, a canal was dug with spade and shovel to bring water from the river to the sough part of town. It was nine miles long, 12 feet wide at the top and 10 feet wide at the bottom and two feet deep. The workers on it got paid on land. For ten rods they got five acres near town and ten acres further south and 2 ½ acres of meadow east of town. Jens and the boys each dug 10 rods. Peter traded for town lot east of town in a willow patch. It was on what is now called 1st north and 2nd east street. There were no buildings east of there at the time.
That year, 1865, the Indians went on the warpath. Peter gives details in his life story beginning page 70 and also in his book, “Indian Depredations” so I won’t give them here only as it immediately concerned Jens. The boys were enrolled under Captain Higgins. Among the 150 head of stock stolen by the Indians, from Richfield, ten head belonged to Jens. It was an exciting year for the settlers. In the fall the people were pretty poor and the older boys got their father’s consent to go back to Mt. Pleasant to find work. They hauled wood and sold it during the winter. Their sister Christine joined them in the spring and the three did not live at home any more. Joseph was at home and his grandmother had three living children and had lost one when nine months old besides the one she lost on the plains.
With Peter the journalist gone, Jens is not mentioned again until 1873. However, the records show a daughter was born in June 1866 who only lived two months, then another daughter, Sara, was born at American Fork in November 1868. The boys and Christine had many thrilling experiences both bad and good. The boys spent much of this time around Pioche, Nevada, Peter coming to Mt. Pleasant long enough to acquire himself a wife, then went back to settle his affairs. He says:
“We traded our teams for sixty-one Texas cows and a trained stock horse and a pack-horse and pack and riding saddles and equipment. Hans stayed in Meadow Valley, Nevada. I turned the cows in the hills and they wintered well. I had no trouble with them except when they were driven into town with the other stock. They would fight people on foot. They were used to being handled by men on horse-back. I broke some of them to milk but they had to be roped from a horse—“.
In the fall of 1873 Peter brought his wife and baby, a son named James Edward, after his two grandfathers, to Glenwood. They lived in a log house belonging to his father that winter and he hauled cedar posts (1000) and tended his cattle. In the spring he took up land where Vermillion and Sigurd now are. My father, Peter, took 160 acres and Isaac Smith got 80 acres. A daughter Adell, was born in 1888 and remembers her grandfather. Father settled a lot of his relatives on his 160 acres – his parents, his wifes parents and most all the uncles and aunts and there was plenty for all to do clearing land, fencing, establishing schools, Ward and chapels.
As an old man Grandfather, when he was in his 80’s used a cane. He and grandmother lived across the street (old Highway 89) from Peter and came across to our place and talked to father. He talked in Danish mostly, and father answered in English. The grand children loved to go to grandma’s and it was a great shock for them to learn that she was not their real grandmother. The house was a nice two story rock house built in 1876. It is in good condition and still standing in 1957.
In 1896 Jens decided he had lived long enough and took to his bed, getting up to care for himself but not out of the house. He would eat only hot milk with bread and a little sugar added. This was brought in by his daughters-in law or the grandchildren. “Grandmother Karen died the 9th of March 1898 and then grandfather moved to the home of Peter. He died three months later, June 29 1898, after Peter’s first wife had died and he had married his second wife and had a new family growing up. Jens was 88 years of age and buried beside his wife in the Glenwood, Sevier County, cemetery.


Sketch written by Adell G Jenson, his granddaughter.

Retyped by Lynda Bench…I tried to preserve the original version, i.e. spelling, grammar, quotations, etc.

Carrie Tuft Jensen

Carrie Tuft Jensen was born in Mt. Pleasant, Utah the 28th of April 1888 to George and Christina Gottfredson Tuft, one of ten children (seven girls and three boys) born to this couple. They lived in a small log house built in the center of a quarter block at third east and first south in Mt. Pleasant. They later built a home on the corner of this same lot.

When Sister Jensen was nine years of age her father died, leaving her mother a widow with nine children to support, and with very limited means of supporting them. Her mother was able to get employment as the City Treasurer, and by letting the children hire out to do housework for other families, she was able to keep her family together.

On December 11, 1907, Sister Jensen was married to Arthur Alvin Jensen, a son of Andrew and Jacobena Lundblad Jensen. In October, 1908, a son, Lynn, was born to them. A daughter, Dorothy, was born in August 1919 and another daughter, Betty, was born in 1922.

Early in their marriage they built the home now occupied by Drucilla Poulson at 478 North State Street. Their two daughters were born here.

Arthur Jensen owned and operated a farm one mile north of Mt. Pleasant, which had previously been owned by his parents. Upon their death, Arthur and Carrie moved to the farm and there they lived until Arthur passed away in October 1939. At this time Sister Jensen the home at 2nd East and 1st South where she now resides.

Sister Jensen has been active in the Church all her life and has been a Relief Society visiting teacher for many years.

In the past she has enjoyed raising a lovely flower garden and has had beautiful blooms in her garden from early spring until late in the fall. She still takes great pride in her home and yard and her personal appearance.

(Probably written for a spotlight in Relief Society)

PERSONAL HISTORY OF CARRIE TUFT JENSEN
My mother Mette (Martha) Christine Gottfredson emigrated to Utah in 1858 from Denmark with her parents, Jens and Karen Gottfredson and her three brothers, Peter, Hans, and Joseph. In Denmark they had been converted to Mormonism through the efforts of the Mormon missionaries. The family lived in Mt. Pleasant and later in Richfield. Mother later returned to Mt. Pleasant, with her brothers Peter and Hans because the employment possibilities were better. While in Mt. Pleasant, she met and married George Tuft, who had also emigrated from Denmark with his family. They married on April 10, 1871 in the Endowment House in Salt Lake City. Ten children were born to this union, one of whom died in infancy.
George Tuft was a farmer and farmed about forty acres of land north of Mt. Pleasant. They were very poor, with little or no money but with a few head of cattle and horses. They lived in a small log house built in the center of a quarter block at third east and first south in Mt. Pleasant. They later built a seven room house on the corner of this same lot. George Tuft suffered an attack of appendicitis on November 30, 1897 and since there was no knowledge of how to treat this condition he died the next day, Dec. 1. 1897. This left my mother a widow with nine children to support and with very limited means of supporting them. In addition, they owed a sizable bill at the Sanpete Co-op for items which they had purchased on credit to sustain the family. This worried mother greatly. She talked to N.S. Nielsen, the Co-op manager about it and he agreed to accept a horse and buggy as full settlement of the bill. Mother then rented three rooms in her home to a number of different individuals including students and school teachers. She received $3.00 per month rent from these rooms. In an effort to keep her family in food, she located them in homes around town where they could work their board and room. I remember working for the Elisha Brandon family where I did housework, hauled wood and acted as companion to Mrs. Brandon. For this I received board and room and fifteen cents per week which was paid in the form of a store order on the Sanpete Co-op.
About this time Annie, the oldest daughter, was married to Axel Waldemar who was also a farmer with land in the fields north of Mt. Pleasant. They lived on north state and here their two daughters Ariel and Neva were born. The two sons, Frank and Jim, also left home about this time and went to other towns seeking employment.
Mother received employment about this time as the City Treasurer. Her duties were to collect the license fees, water bills etc. and paid the city bills. This job paid her $15.00 per month.
Mother suffered a great deal from rheumatism in her legs and feet and in one hand where she had three fingers which she could not bend. We felt this came from the extremely hard work she had been required to do all of her life.
A few years after my father’s death, mother married Thomas Ivie, a widower with several children. These children were being cared for by other relatives, but they would come to stay with us on occasion and when they did we sure had a houseful. Thomas Ivie farmed my mother’s farm and things were pretty good for three years when Thomas died of a liver condition.
My sister Edna married John Matson about this time. I remember that Edna, in preparation for her marriage, had made a very lovely and elaborate wedding dress. They were to be married in the temple, but the authorities at the temple said the dress was inappropriate so she had to borrow a dress for the occasion. They moved into a one room house behind John’s father’s home on east main street. John’s father was a polygamist with two wives. One of the wives died and John and Edna moved into her home which was located in the south part of the town. John was forced to go out of town for employment and he would leave Edna and their son Glen alone. Edna was nervous about being alone and I would stay with her while John was away. They then moved to Salt Lake for a short time where their daughter Vida was born. They again returned to Mt. Pleasant and purchased a small home a block west of our family home where the other three children, Ralph, Alice and Thelma, were born and the family raised.
They subsequently moved to Bingham Canyon where John obtained employment as a guard at the copper mine. They lived in Bingham for about three years and then to Salt Lake where they spent the rest of their lives.
In 1907 my sister Bertha decided to go to Salt Lake to get employment. She did so and located in an apartment in Salt Lake. She then prevailed upon mother to come and stay with her so that she could avail herself of hot bath treatments to get relief from the pain of her rheumatism. Mother took the treatments for some time and did get somewhat better and then returned to Mt. Pleasant. While in Salt Lake, Bertha renewed her acquaintance with Charles Bellemere, whom she had known in Mt. Pleasant. Charles was working as a photographer in Salt Lake. They were married shortly thereafter and subsequently moved to Kansas City, Missouri where Charles had been born and raised. There their two children, Katherine and Charles, were born. Bertha died on May 3, 1917 after being burned in a gas explosion in their home.
My sister Ella was the best looking of all the Tuft girls and one year was selected as the Goddess of Liberty for the town’s 4th of July celebration. Theodore (Tobe) Candland from Chester lost no time in dating Ella. They were married shortly thereafter and three children were born to the union, Dwight, Beth, and Rex. Tobe engaged in a number of different types of employment. He was a very personable man and seemed to succeed best in those jobs where he was dealing with the public. He was an implement salesman and a commission man dealing in the purchase and sale of livestock. They lived their entire lives in Mt. Pleasant and everyone in the county knew Tobe and Ell.
On December 11, 1907 I married Arthur Jensen and we moved into mother’s three rooms. There my son, Lynn, was born about one year later. We lived there for about three years and then moved to the Jensen farm north of Mt. Pleasant. We moved into a two room washhouse adjoining the larger farm house. Arthur’s sister Lurinda who was a widow with three children was living with Arthur’s parents in the farm house. About three years later both Arthur and his sister Lurinda contracted pneumonia and were very ill. I am sure that had it not been for the services of two trained nurses Miss Malmstein and Miss McFadden they would have both died. Because of the two cases of pneumonia at the same time it was thought to be contagious and the children were sent to town to live with relatives. Lynn, who was in school by this time, lived with my mother.
We lived on the farm for another three years and then moved back to mother’s three rooms while we were building a house in town. We moved from there to the site of the new house where we lived in a wood granary with a tent attached until the house was completed. We lived there only two more years and then moved back to the Jensen farm upon the death of Arthur’s parents. My daughters Dorothy and Betty were born in 1919 and 1922 and we lived at the farm most of the time until Arthur passed away in 1939 after another bout with pneumonia. About a year later I purchased a house in town, the same house in which John and Edna had raised their family, and which I occupy at the present time.
My sister Lola the youngest married Ora Hansen from Ephraim and they lived in Ephraim for many years. Their children Ruth, Roger and Mary Lou were born there. Ora worked at the Ephraim bank and served as bishop of one of the Ephraim wards for many years. The subsequently moved to Salt Lake City, where Ora obtained employment with the State of Utah. Lola died on October 10, 1960 after a lingering illness. (Stroke by Lynda Bench’s memory)
Florence married Roumaine Sorensen from Axtel and they moved to Axtel where they engaged in farming with Roumaine’s father and brothers. They subsequently moved to Logan, Pegrem, Idaho and Lewiston, Utah. They had three sons Earl, Boyd, and Jack. Roumaine passed away in Lewiston from a heart attack and was buried in Logan. Florence is living in Logan at the present time. Her son Earl is President of the Danish Mission for the church. Boyd lived in Montpelier, Idaho and Jack in Lewiston, Utah.


Personal history written by Carrie Tuft Jensen April 4th, 1964.