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The Story of George Francis Comish (edited by Della Comish Crockett)THE STORY OF MY LIFE I, George Francis Comish, was born at Franklin, Idaho, 4 May 1873, the fifth child of Emma Jane Howland and Robert Nephi Comish. My parents were married 21 January, 1865 at the Endowment House in Salt Lake City, Utah. They made their first home in Franklin Idaho, which was a small settlement at that time, only five years old. They lived in Franklin for ten years. They were active in the Church and civic affairs. Father was a "minute man” to protect the pioneers against the Indians. Father loved the Theatre and was active in Home Dramatic plays, often playing the leading role. This group played in about every town in the valley. In 1875, when I was two years old, my parents moved to Coveville, now called Cove, two miles southeast of Franklin, to homestead 160 acres of land. Father engaged in farming and stockraising. All of us sons carried on is his vocation. My parents built a fine frame house for those days. I still admire their foresight in choosing the setting. It was far back, 100 feet east of the main traveled road. On each side of the long walk leading to the house, they planted shrubs and a variety of flowers. I still recall the nice arrangement of flowers. The flowers even charmed the birds. How well I remember the Mourning Doves who came back year after year. My parents planted a large orchard of trees to bear all kinds of fruits, including berries and cherries. I recall relatives and friends coming to eat strawberries and cream with us on many occasions. They planted for beauty too. This grove and orchard served as a playground, not only for our family and friends, but years later as a playground for our children as well. East of the grove was a large spring and a pond with clear running water the year round. In those early days they piped the spring water down to the house for culinary use. As children we enjoyed boat riding and swimming in the pond. About 200 feet south of the house and just south of the orchard, the Sanderson Creek runs through the farm. All along its banks grew wild flowers, wild fruits, such as chokecherries, service berries, and elder berries. Delicious watercress grew in abundance near the spring. My father, Robert Nephi Comish, was born December 13, 1842, at Douglas, Isle of Man, His parents were converted to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and father as baptized before leaving for America on the ship "Ellen Maria", in 1851. At about eleven years of age, both the ocean voyage and the trek across the plains was a great adventure to him. In 1864, at the age of twenty-two, he drove an ox team back to Winter Quarters to assist in moving poor emigrants to Utah. This emigrant train was the "William B. Preston" train consisting of 50 wagons and 400 emigrants. A year later, in 1865, he married sixteen year old Emma Jane Howland. Mother was born two or three years later, after Nauvoo had been burned by the mobs. Most of the Mormons had gone West in the long wagon trains to establish themselves in the great Salt Lake Valley. She was only three years old when she crossed the plains. Her father died on the Missouri River and her mother continued the journey with her three little girls. Her Mother, Martha Diane Howland, taught school in Salt Lake City until Emma was nine years old, then moved to West Jordon until 1864, at which time they moved to Franklin, Idaho to another teaching job. Franklin had only been settled four years. There were only a few families; very few books; and no division of grades in the school. Their house was about where the Bill Biggs' house now stands. I recall many times when my parents drove into town to shop, they would take me along and leave me with grandma and grandpa Comish, who lived in a frame house where the Marry Shrives house now stands. Grandpa would say, ''Where is George?", I would be hiding in the Wagon waiting for him to ask, then I would pop out and surprise him. As a little boy I did not speak plainly which caused my brothers and sisters, to tease me and call me Danish. One day some travelers stopped at the gate to talk to father. After listening for a time I ran to the house to tell Mother the men were talking so funny that you could not understand them. She said, ''Maybe they are Danish," I replied, No they're not Danish they don't talk like me!" One time I went into town with Father, he decided to stay on and sent me home with the team, and wagon. The wagon had loose planks instead of a box. The horses got scared on the way home and began to run. I pulled them into a telegraph pole. The sudden stop threw my little slate to the ground and broke it. I felt much worse about this than about any damage that might have been done to the wagon, or harness. Father didn't scold me--he had lots of patience. I never heard him say a swear word. We boys learned to plow with an Ox team very young. We drove them without lines, using only the aid of a whip. If we wanted them to go to the right, we would shout "Gee Jerry", or the loft ''Woo-hah Buck." Our fences were made of willows woven along the posts. Now, 72 years later, one of the posts is still standing. When I was about seven years of age my turn came for driving the rake machine. This grain cutter machine only cut the grain, so my father and brothers would follow and tie the grain in bundles. Large bands of Indians came and camped on the creek near our farm every summer. One time an old Brave bought a yardage of bright yellow calico and asked mother to make him a shirt. She made the shirt adding a trim of yellow and red calico fringe at the neck and sleeves. He was so pleased. Before the Indians left that fall, they persuaded her to make shirts just like it for all the men in the Indian band. We gave food and clothing to the Indians on many occasions and were always on friendly terms with them. On 13 November, 1882, Father died suddenly of "Quinsy." Grandma Comish remarked that the "good ones go first." This was always a consolation to me. At the time of his death one of my sisters had diphtheria, three of the other children contacted that dread disease. Mother had many trials to pass through raising her family of ten children, but she courageous carried on, proving to be a wonderful mother and homemaker. Joseph, the eldest, was seventeen years old when Father died. Each child was responsible for certain work to do, and was depended upon to do it. I often marvel at the good spirit of our home, each one pulling his own share of the load. Under Mother's supervision we raised our own food. We took our wheat to the High Creek grist mill to be made into flour; the girls and mother made butter by skimming cream from the open milk pans, placing the cream into a dash churn--like the one the ''little pigs" rolled down the hill in. We kept about ten or twelve bee hives. It was fun to veil ourselves and rob the bees of their honey. Sometimes the bees got even by stinging us good. The honey was put in five gallon cans and stored in the cellar. When it sugared we were always permitted to chip off a hunk to eat as candy. The older grandchildren also had this pleasure years later when they played at grandma's house. We raise our own sugar cane for making syrup and molasses as sugar was very scarce. In the long winter evenings we often made honey and molasses candy. Eggs and meat were always plentiful. My brothers and I killed and cured our own meat. The girls and mother dried and canned fruits, and vegetables. Pits were used for storing apples, potatoes, carrots, and etc. for winter. We must have eaten right, as we were a health family. A dentist and a doctor were unknown to us. Mother was the only doctor we knew. I was twenty-seven years of age when I got my first tooth filling. The young people of Franklin and Cove were always welcome at our home. A neighbor once remarked. "Aunt Emma, I don't see how you ever put up with the crowd of young people you have so often at your home." Mother's answer to such remarks was always. "I would much rather have them to my place than for my children to go away. We love having them here." I well remember the preparations that went into getting ready for the young folk, the baking of pies, cakes, or a large "crock" of cookies. By this time the trees had grown big enough in the orchard for swings, and for shade. Horses shoe's, kick the can, and foot and horse races were the favorite sports for the young men. We attended grade school at Cove. The school house was where the Rawling's farm now is. It was a frame building about 50 feet by 25 feet. A huge six-lid range stove served as the central heating. It ate up the wood almost faster than the teacher and the students I could feed it. We were never warm in the coldest weather. We didn't have overshoes of any kind and often sat all day with damp cold feet. The benches were very crude. All writing was done In the blackboard or on slates. There were about 50 pupils and eight grades in this one room school. For punishment we often had our hands spanked with the ruler, I can still feel the smart from it. Some of the boys were whipped. I recall on one occasion one of the big boys fighting with the teacher. Mother was always willing to lend a helping hand to these in trouble or need. She was a good tithe payer and an ardent church worker. She taught Sunday School, and a counselor to the Relief Society for ten years, and was Primary President for eleven years. Some times she would ride a horse to attend these meetings, however, I remember driving her to many a I meeting at the Cove Ward. Mother married Bishop John Larson of the Cove Ward, he already had two wives. This was before the Manifesto, however, plural marriages were considered unlawful by the United States government. Arrests were made in some cases, men were serving prison sentences. Therefore such marriages were kept pretty quiet. A son Newell was born to this union. He was kept hidden, even from some of the nearest neighbors for two years. I recall my sisters putting him in a gunny sack and taking him to Aunt Jane's for an afternoon or taking him to the grove, well hidden from the house. Newell took the Comish name as his father never contributed in any way to his support or upbringing. Besides raising her ten children, Mother took her youngest half-sister Avilda Hickman, and geven, when Grandma died. Avilda lived with us until she got married. At the death of my sister Martha, Mother took her three little daughter's keeping them for seven years until their father re-married. After we children were all married Mother moved to Franklin, across the street from our Franklin home in the middle of the block where the Butterworths now live. We saw her almost every day, and our children came to know her well. She died December 24, 1917, of rheumatism of the heart. My brothers and sisters are as follows:
On Mother's 100 th anniversary 14 January 1949, she had the following descendants: 10 children I remember my paternal grandparents so well, there was always a sweet or a cookie in the big jar for us. How tickled I was to have them visit us on the farm. Sometimes they would walk out the two miles and surprise us, then one of my big brothers would often drive them home in the wagon. The last time I remember grandfather was after one of his visits, he took me by the hand and had me go a ways with him. Grandfather William Cornish was born 20 May 1805 at Kirkarbray, Isle of Man. He was converted to the Gospel and baptized a member of the Church on 28 October 1841, by Elder John Taylor, on his first mission to England. His wife Elizabeth Keig Comish, born 22 December 1805, was baptized at Kirkersire, Isle of Man, seven years later. Immediately after her conversion they began making preparations to bring their family of nine children to Utah. In 1849, grandfather and the eldest daughter Jane came to America. They found employment in St. Louis Missouri. In a year and a half they had earned enough money to send for the rest of the family. The family arriving safely in St. Louis in 1851 where they resided for four years accumulating wagons, oxen, and the necessary provisions for crossing the plains. They came with the "John Hindley Company" of Emigrants. This company consisted of 200 people. They traveled with heavy covered wagons, and ox-teams, arriving in Salt Lake City, 3 Sep 1855. My grandparents lived at Kaysville, Utah, for five years. They received their endowments, and were sealed for time and eternity and had their children sealed to them by Heber C. Kimball, 13 April 1857 at the Endowment House in Salt Lake City. They moved to Franklin, Idaho in 1860, being among the very first to enter and settle in Franklin. The names of grandfather, William Comish, his three sons--William Comish, John Comish and my father Nephi Comish are engraved on the Pioneer monument of Franklin. My Aunt, Anna Comish was the first teacher in the state of Idaho. I can just visualize Grandma Elizabeth yet, tall and slender always neat in appearance, with hair curled around her face, and a tight bob on the back of her head, and she wearing her lovely breast pin. Not one of us would beat Grandma at mental arithmetic, and no one could tell better stories. She often told us how her mother tried to persuade her to remain in Isle of Man. Once her mother asked, "Elizabeth, how do you know that this Gospel is true", and grandma would say pointing to our boiling tea kettle. ''Mother, do you see kettle on the bob?, her mother answered impatiently. "of course I know it is there." Mother answered, "Are you sure it is there?" Her mother again "of course I know it is there." Then grandmother would set up very straight and say, "I said. Mother, just as sure as you know that, just so sure am I that the Gospel is true." Grandfather died at the age of 72 and Grandmother Elizabeth lived to be 80 years old. My maternal grandparents Henry Howland, born 12 July 1812 in Vermont, and Martha Diana Case born 8 October, 1823 at Troy, Bradford County, Pennsylvania married and went to Flagg Town, Ogle County, Illinois to live. Here they were converted to the Gospel by Sister Leonard, a school teacher. About this time, June 1852, a company of Saints were leaving for Utah. They decided to join this company to the trek to Utah. They had tried to convert Diana's family but none of them would have anything to do with its teachings and tried to persuade Diana and Henry to give it up. Grandpa, a descendant of the John Howland of the Mayflower, was at that time quiet a wealthy blacksmith. As no one had means enough to buy his property in Flagg Town, the property was left in the care of his father-in-law, Moses Case. Not a penny from this property was ever received by Grandma. As a blacksmith, Grandpa helped the Saints to prepare their wagons and equipment for the long journey. He outfitted a wagon for Grandma Leonard, as they called her and one for himself and family. Although he and his wife had not been baptized, they intended to be baptized at the first stream of water they came to. With their three little daughters, Helen, Rachel, and Martha, they were eager and ready to start went when Captain Tidwell ordered the start of the long wagon train. When they reached the Missouri River, an epidemic of Cholera broke out. Grandpa Henry Howland and 32 others died of this dreadful plague. Captain John Tidwell, in an effort to prevent further spread of the disease, ordered families to ride separately from their dead, until they could be buried. Grandma and the little girls were put in another wagon, but grandma Leonard said she would not leave until Henry's body was buried. The team pulling this wagon was not properly harnessed in the stress of getting ready. They ran away and during this wild ride, Grandma Leonard was thrown to the ground and instantly killed. There Was a double floor on the wagon so trunks and boxes were taken out and one floor removed and used for material to make coffins Grandpa and Sister Leonard were buried in the same grave just west of the Missouri River. Grandma Howland was baptized a member of the Church 15 June, 1852 by Captain Tidwell just two days after her husband's death. Grandpa had begged to be baptized when they reached the Missouri River, but he was too ill. Grandma was courageous and faithful, even though she had parted with her husband and best friend, she continued on to Utah with the Company: Peter Preece driving her team. They reached Salt Lake City in the autumn of 1852. Grandma taught school to support her family. She was said to be generous and helpful, and always ready to divide with the poor and needy. She kept and cared for an old blind woman for a year. During the grasshopper war of 1854, she shared her last loaf of bread with a beggar woman, not knowing where the next mouthful would come from. For this generosity she was indeed blessed by the Lord, before night a gentleman by the name of Tanner brought her 200 pounds of flour. This was enough flour to carry her through until harvest! At that time the school teachers used to teach school at the different homes of the students, and the noon meal was furnished them. Much of the time grandma lived on that one meal to save the flour and other provisions for her children. She married Telemicus Rogers, but they lived together for only a year and then separated. One child was born to them, Henrietta Rogers. In 1855, Grandma married William A. Hickman. Four children were born to them, Jordan River Hickman, Orivalda Diana. Don Carlos, and Mary Rozina. In 1863 they moved to Franklin, where Grandma again taught school for many years to help earn a living for this big family. Within two years the three Howland girls were married. Helen married Nephi Packer; Martha to Isaac B. Wash; and Mother Emma Jane to Robert Nephi Comish. Grandma purchased a piece of land and built a house across the street from the property on which I was born and the lot where years later Margaret and I built our home. Grandma Howland died in 1872 at the age of 59. I went to the B.Y. Preparatory College in Logan. Utah to school for a short term, two different years. Three of us Cove boys lived together and batched it. One of the boys would drive us to Logan, a distance of 20 miles, because we could not afford money to go on the train. The farm became too small for six men to farm. Will and Myron vent to work on the railroad. Joe left for a mission and I went to Marsh Valley to homestead a place. Most of our travels were on horseback or by heavy wagon. Even for church and dances we traveled this way. In winter, riding was easier and more romantic as we went by sleigh. Sometimes, six or eight couples would go to a dance or a home theatre production in the nearby villages. We made an effort to get all the bells we could for the harnesses-it added to the fun, and the bells could be heard for long distances on a cold night. One night in Franklin we run (raced) with a Franklin team up the main street. The wagon tugs of the two teams mixed and brought the race to an abrupt stop. We were shaken up a bit but no one was hurt. I first remember Margaret Biggs walking along the road with her brother Lorenzo, she was about seven years old at the time. We went to the same school for a number of years. When she grew up she was away from her home much of the time as she lived and worked for her mother's sisters--the Dunkley and Woodward families. Margaret was at our home on many occasions. She was a close friend of my sisters Jennie and Hattie. What a laughing great time they always had together. Margaret loved to dance. As a young girl, she always had dancing partners to spare. Sometimes we would go to Cove with a crowd. By sleigh in winter or by wagon in summer, the jolty ride never seemed to interfere with our jolly crowd and the good fun. The first night I took Margaret home, I gave her a goodnight kiss. She returned it with two and from on we went together, and went steady, they call it now. We began taking our rides in a new two-wheel cart. The horse knew the way home. We were married in 1897 in the Endowment House in Logan, Utah. Margaret was only eighteen years old and I was twenty-five. I was twenty-one at the time I homesteaded the farm in Marsh Valley, near Downey, Idaho. In the spring I would put four horses on a wagon; load it with hay and supplies enough to last for two or three months. It would take a whole day to make the trip. I would put in the crops, and spend many days breaking new ground. The sage brush was so high and thick it would throw the plow out of the ground. The rabbits were a bearable pest, they were so thick the farmers would get together, and with the aid of a new wire fence, gradually close in on the rabbits and herd them into a box car to be shipped out for food. One spring I had a call saying my wife was sick. I rode one of my fastest horses to Preston, changed to another horse making the trip record time. In a few days Margaret was better and I returned to the farm. On one return trip by wagon, a coyote followed me for miles, keeping about three rods away with his mean, hungry eyes never leaving me. How I wish I had a gun. Margaret never liked living at Marsh Valley. It was very lonesome, she often took Ruby her sister, for company. They always loved being together. When she was so ill at the end she always wanted Ruby with her. We sold the homestead, and purchased more land in Cove near the 25 acres Mother had deeded to me when she divided her 160 acre farm. Reata was born 25 October 1898. Six weeks later I left for MY first mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. My wife and little daughter lived in part of mother's house. Thirty missionaries including myself were set apart in Salt Lake City and left together for the Southern States Mission. We went by way of Cheyenne, Kansas City, St. Louis to Nashville. President Bennie E. Rich was there to meet us. I was given a companion and assigned to the Atlanta, Georgia district. During my mission I labored with nine different elders. There was a good deal of opposion to the Mormon elders at the turn of the century. A few years earlier two elders were killed in Tennessee and one in Georgia. One night two of our elders' visited a young women who had recently been baptized. A mob promptly escorted the elders to the county line and threatened to kill them if they ever returned. We traveled in those days without purse or script. Many times we were refused lodging and slept in the woods, with the stars over us and a suit case for a pillow. We well knew what it meant to be hungry; some days only averaging one meal a day. This always seemed to be a humbling experience and encouraged us to pray more often for guidance. District quarterly conferences were held each year, where missionaries met together for spiritual aid and guidance. This conference also gave us a chance to exchange experiences and often a missionary companion as well. A Georgia conference was held once each year with President Rich in charge. At these meetings all the elders would be called on to bear their testimonies. I always returned to my labors with renewed faith and a stronger testimony of the Gospel. We stayed at a hotel and would purchase meat tickets, the meals averaging 12 1/2 cents each. We sometimes stayed at the homes of the Saints. We were often refused a building in which to preach. In one small village the Deacon refused us the use of the school house or the porch or the Church. The store keeper offered us his porch, so we went about advertising the meeting. A crowd gathered at the Post Office among them the Deacon, and they warned us to take the next train out of town. We reminded him that where we went we must walk. He said. ''We'll have fifty men here tonight to see that you don't preach!" I said, (to myself) since there are two of us you should have at least a hundred men. I found most of the Southern people quite religious and very kind. They would take us in and share the best they had even though they were bitter toward Mormonism and did not like us working in the county … These people were good cooks, the food consisting of pork , beef, chicken, sweet potatoes cooked in a many different ways, hot buttered biscuits serves with sugar cane syrup, a variety of vegetables, and the best watermelon I ever tasted. At that time the people of the South lived much differently than we were used to living in the west. In the country the average house was a three or four room frame structure The kitchen was built separately from the rest of the house by as much as fifteen feet. Usually it was built on posts three or four feet above the ground--so the pigs could have a place to sleep; or factually to keep the foundation of the house from rotting from the damp ground. The cooking was done almost entirely over an open fireplace. Every family had dogs, often three or four to a family. These dogs were always going in and out of the house or laying under the table. The washing was done out of doors. A huge pot of water was placed on an open fire and used for boiling the clothes, then they were beat on a large wooden block to get them clean. My second year in the mission field, I contracted Malaria fever. A Southern family belonging to the church took care of me for five weeks. They were Saints indeed. How grateful I was for their kindness during that trying time of chills and fever. I was given an honorable release in 1900 after two years as a missionary. I splurged and purchased a new suit in St. Louis. I got off the train in Salt Lake City feeling like I a "dandy". Margaret got little Reata there to meet me. It took a long time before Reata would call me daddy. My wife was dressen so stylish, as she always does, as she always had excellent taste in dress. She was so amused and often teased me about the Prince Albert suit, which was completely out of style in the west. A few months later I gave the suit to a Southerner. He didn't seem to appreciate it either! Reata learned to walk holding on to a big curly dog belonging to the Comish family. The dog was loyal and faithful to her. Objecting to any attention paid her by a stranger. One time when she was two and a half years old, we were eating dinner with Margaret's family and we missed Reata. She had found her way home, a distance of three-quarters of a mile. Since Reata was our first child, her graduation from elementary school, high school, and college were very exciting to her mother and me. She always helped us to make a special occasion of these events, and always seemed so proud to introduce us to her many fine friends. This was a great joy to us and we often spoke of it to each other. Reata is the only one of the children to get a Masters Degree. She has taught school in the elementary I grades at Nevada, Duschane, Utah, Victor and Kelly, Idaho, in high school at West Jordon, Ogden, and Salt Lake City, Utah. She also taught for three years in Utah State College at Logan, Utah. Salt Lake City was her choice to make her home, so she returned there to continue her teaching, She married Louis Grossem in the spring of 1943. The summer following my return from the mission field, we built a new house. It was a frame house consisting of two large rooms, later we added another room known as the "shanty". We had a well dug, planted an orchard and a garden, shade trees and a lawn. A few years later we had the water piped down to the house and built a cement cellar. Della was born that winter on 28 December 1901. She was named after Margaret's beloved sister who had died a few months earlier. Della and Reata attended high school at the Brigham Young College at Logan, as there was not a high school in Franklin until Dwayne was ready to enter. Della followed the Comish tradition, teaching school for five years. She married Earl Clarkson Crockett August 25. 1925. They have four children: Marian -- married to Donald Stuart Brereton; Robert Comish -- married to Janet Ruth Romney; Earl David, and Margaret Ruth named for her grandmother. The next summer we built a granary, chicken coops and a barn. Our farm work consisted mostly of milking cows, stock raising, and growing grain and hay. Margaret was always willing to do more than her share. She cared for the children, helped with the chores and in the garden and cooked for hired men besides her housekeeping. To cook for the "Thrashers" was a task and an event. Preparations were made days in advance. Each housewife seemed to try to outdo the last and each thrashing hand tried to eat more than the other fellow. It meant two table settings and a third for the children who waded in the bins of newly thrashed grain. Some "thrashers" were well mannered while others thought of nothing but getting to the table first and staying as long as the food lasted. Once the thrashing machine exploded and caught fire. The two of us on the machine made a quick getaway. The machine and some of the farmer's buildings burned up. In 1904 I was called to be the superintendent of the first Mountain Home Sunday School. I served in that capacity for a number of years. We had a fine Sunday School and won our share of Stake honors. Dwayne was born April 21 of that year. How proud we were to have a boy! Dwayne always had a way with his mother, from the time he wore ringlets as a little lad to his visits with her when she was so ill. He could always get her to laughing. Dwayne graduated from Franklin high school, took a business course in Salt Lake City and served as a missionary for two years in the Canadian Mission. The last year he was president of the Vermont District. He married Reba Swendson August 15, 1934. They have a farm and a lovely home at Payette , Idaho. They have a son Clayton, now attending college at Brigham Young University. When the government took over the Range, about 20 of us farmers formed a cattle Association. I was made president. In the springtime it was my duty to count the cattle turned on the range, make sure that the herder kept salt in all the canyons for the cattle and in the fall notify the cattle owners of the Roundup. I had to cut down on the number of cattle I put on the range, but in time I was able to purchase 20 additional "rights" in addition to the 20 allowed me. The cattle rights went to my sons Burdett and Clair with the farm. In the early years of our married life, there wasn't any coal to be had, so it meant chopping wood to heat the house and to cook with. We always had a huge wood pile under the big old shade trees. The chore for the small children was to keep the wood box filled. I found timber, wood posts for fencing, and logs from ten different canyons. Our first stable and chicken coop was built of logs. Geneve was born April 2, 1906. She was a tiny baby, but alert and quick at everything. At two and a half years old she won a painter's heart and he painted a picture for her. Of all the children, I think she was most like her mother, both in appearance and disposition. She is patient, never complaining and always willing to carry more than her share of the load. Such a happy serene disposition is hers! Geneve graduated from Franklin High School; had one year of college at Logan and graduated with honors from the University of Utah. She married Ivan Nelson in 1926. She taught school three years in Dayton, Idaho--leaving little Ramon with us during the week and coming home to be with us on the weekend. After getting her degree from college she was principal of the Preston Elementary Schools. This was indeed an honor. She did a fine job. Mother would always say, "How can she manage all those children and teachers?" Ramon went to school at Preston during this time. The teachers spoke of him as a model schoolboy-just the kind for a Principal to have. After three years, Geneve accepted a job in the Salt Lake City schools. Ramon was graduated from the University of Utah. He was accidentally killed in a gun explosion during target practice in 1951. In addition to farming throughout the years I bought and sold horses. I had 15 or 18 head of horses much of the time, selling them for $100 or $125 each. One horse brought $225 which was a big price for those days. We had a beautiful "Span of Boys," one of the best driving teams in the county. I would get many compliments and offers to buy them everywhere I drove them. To do them justice, we needed a new buggy, so I traded a handsome colt for a "surrey with the fringe on top." It was a great riding pleasure for the family except when one of those new fangled automobiles met or passed us. The "Bays" always shied, giving us all a good scare at times. Later we succumbed to the "auto" now simply called the car, owning a Dodge, Buick, Knight and Chevrolet. Years later I traded a top notch riding pony for a car. Cythna, born October 23, 1908, was our baby for eight years. We all loved and spoiled her. The older children would bring their friends home to hear her talk, and little "Cys" delighted in the fun along with the rest. Cythna attended High School in Franklin; was very popular and was picked off at seventeen years of age to become the wife of Douglas Wright in October of 1925. They have three fine children to speak for their success as parents. Cythna is an excellent housekeeper and cook. We always looked forward and enjoyed her prize angel food cake! The children are: Colleen--married to Roy Doney; "Billy" William Douglas--married to Barbara Smith and George Terry, named for me. I have served as president of the Mountain Home water ditch and secretary of the Sanderson ditch. In 1909 I was called on a second mission to the Eastern States. In preparation I sold cattle and got all my affairs in order. When I went to the bank to borrow money, the banker who was not even a Mormon said, "your good name entitles you to all the money you need, and if your family needs any, they can get it." At Salt Lake City, I was rejected because I could not pass the physical examination. This was indeed a great disappointment to me. I contributed $50 to help another missionary and returned the money to the ward which had been raised at my benefit farewell party. For two winters we rented a house in town so that the children could attend better schools. This worked out much better for them so we decided to build there. We were lucky in being able to purchase the very lot my parents had built their first little house on and where I was born. We paid $250 for the lot which my parents had bought; a lot, house and all for two yoke of oxen. Margaret and I planned our seven room house and were told that we had one of the best built houses in town, and I believe it is to this day. We were all proud of this lovely yellow brick house and found it very livable. Margaret was an excellent housekeeper, and of such a happy disposition, it was always a pleasure to have friends and guests visit us. For the first time we had electric lights and water in the house and a modern bathroom. Burdett was born October 31, 1916. He had pneumonia that first year--I shall never forget our delight when he was well enough to reach for his rattle. We took him to Bear Lake for a week and the change helped and he soon got well. As a little boy he always wanted to go wherever the car went. Once coming from Brigham City with a load of peaches, a drunk ran his car into us, smashed up our new Dodge and gave all four of us--Reata, Della, Burdett and me, a few cuts and bruises. Burdett's big concern was that our beautiful peaches were all over the road. Everywhere I went, before Burdett started school, he went too. Even then he was friendly and took an interest in everything he saw. A friend once said to me, "That boy will never meet a stranger," and I don't believe he ever has. He has a kind and understanding way with everyone. His children have often said ''Daddy can fix it, he can fix everything." Glendon Burdett married Zelma Waddops on February 8, 1940. They lost their first, little son. They now have the following children; Jerry, David, Ann, and Kenneth, better known as ''Kenny. " I lost so much time driving back and forth, it increased my work a great deal. The boys and I would have to drive the cows from town to the farm every day to pasture, then back to town at night. It also meant hauling feed to town for the cows, building a barn and I stable and hauling fertilizer back to the farm. This town-farm arrangement meant taking cold lunches for thirty years. It was equally hard for Margaret, as she helped with the chores. The girls all milked cows during their early years, and there was always late supers and later dishwashing. I look back and realize it would have been easier to have built on the farm, especially after the automobile days. However we were so eager for our children to have the best opportunity we could give them for an education, at the time no sacrifice seemed too great for us to make. I believe by living in town we all did participate in town and church activities more than if we had stayed on the farm. After a long day's work harnessing a team and driving into town for all the activities wouldn't have been easy either. We had a good taste of that during the few summers that we moved temporarily back to the farm. It was like keeping up two homes for a few years. In later years we stayed in town and had a big vegetable garden. We also had small fruits as strawberries and raspberries. Regardless of how busy "Sally" my pet name for Margaret was, she planted a variety of flowers. I think she was never happier than when she was working in her garden. In the Franklin ward I served in the Bishopric, as Sunday School teacher, Chairman of the Scout Committee, and worked both in the Ward and the Stake M.I.A. I was a member of the school board at the time the new schoolhouse was built. Mother was in the Primary presidency, and always active in the Relief Society. Clair Hommer was born November 24, 1920. Our last baby and what a big bright chap he was! His first few months were pretty tough on us. He cried with pain in his little "stomie", and we had to walk the floor with him. Sally would never completely trust me with him in case I would fall asleep as I walked, so when I walked she kept one eye on me. Clair was exceptionally quick both at work and at play. I still have to see anyone who can keep up with him in figures or pitching hay. He was a "star" on the Franklin basketball team. How mother and I loved to watch him play. We never missed a game. One winter he stayed with Geneve and went to school in Dayton. That winter he had his head shaved, (the boy craze at the time), then he wore his cap in school and all until his hair grew out. Clair is an excellent judge of cattle; he can tell at a glance what cows are worth keeping as milk cows etc., etc. He married Lydia Hyer on September 28, 1940. They have four daughters, Sandra and Susan, the only twins in the family, and little Sharon and Nancy. Ted was born later. Franklin is the oldest town in the state of Idaho. In 1910, the Governor declared June 15 a state holiday to honor the early pioneers. A board of governors was elected to sponsor a celebration each year. In 1915 I was elected to serve on the board, in which capacity I served for about 35 years. Margaret and her sister Ruby planned the menu, cooked and supervised the serving of these banquets for several years. There were often as many as 200 attending the banquets. In a small community, there is never enough money for the building and upkeep of country roads, this is now taken care of by the county, but years ago it meant that many of us farmers would contribute time and a team of horses to build roads. I donated weeks of work for roads around Franklin, particularly the road from the farm to town. During the time I was supervisor of the Mountain Home Roads, we were able to build a road from Mt. Home to High Creek so the people living there would not have so far to go to church and the church socials. In helping to build these roads I would sometimes haul gravel and at other times drive four head of horses on a leveler to smooth the roads. The Mormon people also contribute money and time to the building of meeting houses and opera houses. Mother and I always tried to do our share. In our town we also built a Relic Hall to store the pioneer relics. Brigham Young sent the first steam engine to the West to Idaho. It was used in the canyon for sawing timber. About 75 years later this engine was given t. the pioneer collection by the Gibson family. It was my pleasure with five other men to bring the engine by truck to town, clean it up am put it in the Relic Hall. It was a pleasure te show the thousams of pioneer relics to visitors from allover the country. In 1943, mother and I decided to sell the farm to Burdett and Clair and retire. I was 70 years old then, with many years of hard work behind me, having worn out three Binders, three milking machines, besides a pair of hands. After we retired we grew a big vegetable garden, with vegetables to can and lots to spare for the children and the neighbors. Mother's great pride was her canning. No effort was too great to achieve color and flavor in every jar of fruit. By the fall of each year the cellar shelves were lined with a variety of fruits, vegetables, and pickles. It was as pretty to look at as any State Fair display. We continued to keep chickens. We often had two cases of eggs a week to sell. We joined the Egg Association and to this day I get surprise dividends. My brother Myron remodeled a house next door to us. We saw him every day, he eating with us or inviting us to take a ride in his new car. He often said it was the happiest time of his life. These were happy years for us, having our children and their families visit with us and our visits with them. In 1928 we went to Berkeley to visit with Reata and Della , Earl and two year old Marian. Reata was working on her Master's degree at Mills College and Earl on his Doctorate at the University of California. We stayed for two weeks. What a gay time we had. I don't think we missed a thing in the Bay Region, visiting factories, parks, rides by ferry boat to San Francisco, and "movies." One time Earl sat through five hours of Al Jolson in "Sonny Boy" with me. I thought it was the best show I had ever seen and would have liked to stay and see it once more. I made a trip by train to Boulder, Colorado, to visit Della and family in 1937 and since that time have made several trips by train and auto. Two trips with Mother, Reata and Geneve and one trip with Cythna and Douglas. In 1947, Mother, Reata, Geneve and Ramon joined Earl, Della and family in Encinitas, California. They had rented a beautiful Spanish style house overlooking the ocean, which was roomy enough for us all. We went swimming every day in the ocean--sometimes twice a day. Mother was hard to get away from home and always anxious to return. At the end of three weeks she was the only one ready to leave California. We often visited Reata and Geneve and Ramon in Salt Lake City, and they came to see us often--always with a car full of surprises. It was always lonesome for us when they had to return. After Dwayne Reba and Clayton moved to Payette, Idaho, we made several visits to see them. They took us to see all the sights and to some good chicken dinners. I always look forward to seeing the ballgames, especially when Clayton is playing. We were often invited up to dinner with Cythna, Douglas and family. I should say feasts, for that is what they always were. I can still almost hear Colleen playing and singing for us. We visited the farm often. It was hard to keep away, for it always seemed like going back home. Burdett, Zelma, Clair, and Lydia, and all the children have always welcomed us and continued to let us be "at home." It was so good for us to have part of our children close. We were so happy having them, and our grandchildren stop in every time they came to town. I just have to shut my eyes to see all of their happy smiling faces. In 1948, Mother had a heart attack. She had almost recovered when she contracted virus pneumonia and was in a second hospital for a month. For the next two years she was a bed patient most of the time. Although there were weeks at a time when she would get up for a few hours each day and get around in a wheelchair, she spent most of the long hours in I bed. When she could be up she wanted to be helping with the dishes or the fruit canning. We were wonderfully blessed with the help of our children and friends during her long illness. Nora and Lonzo couldn't do enough to help us, and Nora was with Mother at the time of her death. Margaret had always been so independent and of such a cheerful disposition, her illness and suffering was a sad time for me. Since her going, I have lived with the children most of the time. I am not quite so lonely when I am with them, and I am never happier than when I am at the farm and in Franklin with my friends, children and grandchildren. In 1953 I sold our house and furnishings. It was a hard trial to let the house go, and to give up the furnishings we had worked and saved so hard and so long to acquire. It was especially hard to give up the things I which reminded me of "Sally" and our happy days together with our fine family. We have been greatly blessed, all of our seven children are living. We have 17 grandchildren and six great-grandchildren at this writing, April 1954. This winter I have read several books, including the Lives of the Presidents of the Church; spoken twice in Sacrament meeting in the Boulder Ward; and had the pleasure of seeing and visiting with my Boulder friends again. Tomorrow at 81 years of age, I will experience my first airplane ride. I feel very excited at the prospect of a new adventure. Leaving the Denver Airport, then two hours later I will arrive in Salt Lake City to be with Geneve and Reata, see my friends there, and again watch television. My ancestors wouldn't have known what these things were! Wonderful inventions! Edited by Della Comish Crockett
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