Sunday, March 16, 2014

Life History of Velma Tyler Glenn (1906-1996): Part 1


LIFE HISTORY OF VELMA TYLER GLENN
Written February, 1961
Updated October, 1984

I was born of goodly parents on a farm ten miles north of Pocahontas, Randolph County, Arkansas, Thursday, 25 January, 1906. The sixth child of a family of twelve. My mother is Mary Ann Hogan, daughter of John Gabriel Hogan, born 22 March , 1851 , and Mariah Elizabeth Segraves, born 14 June, 1856. My father is Rufus Black Ty1er, born 20 August, 1871. He is the son of John Tyler and Sarah Catherine Jones.

The house where I was born was a large two story log house with a fire place in each room. It was built by my grandfather, John Gabriel Hogan, and his brother, Joseph Antony Hogan.

My ancestors are Irish, Welch, English, German, Holland Dutch, or so my ancestors said. There were Doctors, ministers, lawyers, school teachers, farmers, cobblers, weavers, etc. They landed on the eastern coast of the United States in the late sixteen and early seventeen hundreds.

Some of them were in all of the early wars—the Indian War, Revolutionary War, the War of 1812, the Civil War and the war with Mexico. My second great grandfather, Vincent, was in the Revolutionary War. My great grandfather, Thomas Henry Segraves, was in the Civil War, on the side of the Confederacy. Also, his brother, Jacob, was in the Civil war. Great grandfather Martin Miller Hogan had four sons in the Civil War, on the Condfederate [sic] side. They were Humphry, Martin Miller, Jr., Henry Jackson Hogan and Benjamin Franklin Hogan. Humphry and Martin Jr, lost their lives in the war. Grandfather John Tyler had three sons in the Civil War, on the Confederate side. They were Ambrose, Thomas Jefferson and George Washington Tyler. Ambrose and Thomas Jefferson lost their lives as a result of the war.

I had two brothers, Samuel Lyman and Rufus Lloyd Tyler, in the Navy during World War II. My nephews, E1mer Johnson, Dewey Johnson, Clifford Johnson, Chester Alvin Issacs, Porter Issacs, LaVern Issacs, were also in the war. LeVern lost his life as the troops moved into Germany.

My ancestors were very religious and patriotic. The feeling of patriotism must have been born in me because, ever since I can remember, I have had a very reverent feeling toward our flag and our country. Saluting the flag and all our patriotic songs brings tears of joy and gratitude.

I have four brother and seven sisters: Ada Ethel, born 2 July 1893, died 20 June 1955; Emmett, born 22 June 1895, died 10 November 1921; Ora Blanche, born 18 February 1898, died 18 April 1980; Edna, born 21 April 1900 *; Thelma, born 31 March 1903, died 6 August 1904; myself; John Leslie, born 16 February 1909 *; Glenda Opal, born 19 May 1912 *; Mildred, born 27 February 1915 *; Jewel Catherine Elizabeth, born 23 June 1918 *; Samuel Lyman, born 27 March 1920 *; Rufus Lloyd, born 25 June 1923*. My mother and father also raised two children, Ethel and Ellen Tyler, infants of my father's brother, Alexander Breckenridge Tyler. (* still living Nov, 1984)

There were so many of us, we never had time to get lonesome. Each child had chores to do—washing dishes, bed making, carrying in wood and water, etc. This helped to keep us out of mischief. We caried [sic] all of the water from a large spring a few yards from the house. The spring was about four to six feet and flowed from under a large oak tree (about 2-1/2 to 3 ft in diameter). Father made a little house over the stream about 20 feet from the spring. In this we kept our milk, butter, etc, during the summer to keep it cool. We children had to take turns going after the milk, butter and water. We always worked in pairs--two to wash and dry the dishes, two to make beds, two to get the wood, etc. Then we would change jobs. If we forgot whose turn it was to do what, mother straightened us out.

After the evening meal, everyone gathered around the big fire place in the living room, played games, popped corn, told stories and sang songs.

When we children got tired of playing with each other, got angry or started to argue with each other, dad would make us kiss and say we were sorry. My! That sure is hard to do when you were mad at someone. I think we would rather have had a spanking.

Mother's mother and father lived quite close to us. We children loved to go visit with them. We very often spent the night with them. We always went early enough to help them with the chores and ate the evening meal with them. After the meal, we sat around the fire and talked. Grandma told us stories about their ancestors and grandfather played his violin. Grandma said he would sometimes sit up playing his violin until midnight. She would get tired and go to bed.

Grandfather and grandmother had a large Seth Thomas clock that set on a shelf on the wall. I loved to hear it's [sic] musical tones as it chimed the hours.

Grandfather Hogan and my father at one time, had about 320 acres of land. We weren't rich, but we had as many clothes as anyone. Everyone had one best outfit every summer and every winter, two school dresses, and two every day dresses. We had to always change when we came home into our “every day clothes". Mother made all the clothes and was an excellent seamstress. Women came from all around the area to get mother to help with their sewing problems. She could make beautiful hand made button holes and her pintucks were perfect.

My grandfather, John Gabriel Hogan, built a church house on his farm. He said that people in that community needed a church to go to and any minister who would come into the community could preach in it. Ministers of different faiths came in and held meetings in it for some time. In the early spring of 1899, the Latter Day Saints, or "Mormons" came and asked permission to hold meetings in it. Grandfather gave them permission and asked them to stay with him while they were in the community. The missionaries stayed and taught grandfather and grandmother the religion while they were there. They were converted and baptized in June of 1899.

While the missionaries were holding a meeting one night, my father heard some of the men plotting to mob the missionaries. Father asked them to stay at our place that night. The men followed mother, father and the missionaries all the way home but didn't try to bother them. Father thought they would try to attack them after they went to bed. They all went to bed, father being the last. He first barred the heavy oak doors, loaded his shot gun, and stood it by his bed, then said a silent prayer for protection. He laid awake most of the night, thinking the men would attack at any time. No one came.

The missionaries went to some other area of the state. While they were gone, a minister of another faith come and told such disgraceful tales about the Mormons that father told mother if the Mormons were that kind of people, he didn't want anything to do with them. The missionaries came back into that area two more times. On May 29th, 1902, my father and mother were baptized. 22 February, my oldest sister, Ada Ethel (10 years), my oldest brother, Emmett (8), and mother's sister Mazie Hughes Hogan (9) were baptized. It was so cold that the missionaries had to chop a hole in the ice to do the baptizing, so grandfather wanted them to wait until warmer weather. Aunt Mazie refused and just walked into the icy water dressed as she was, shoes and all. They wrapped the children in quilts and blankets and walked to grandpas [sic] place, about a forth [sic] of a mile away, to change into dry clothes.

My parents joined the church (LDS) six years before I was born.

I was blessed by a missionary, Elder Ira L. Nealey, 13 April 1906. When I was 13 months old, the family decided they wanted to live where a branch or ward of the Church was located. They packed our things and moved off and left our home for Utah. We stayed in Murray, a suburb of Salt Lake City, for two weeks. Dad didn't like it there, so we headed back to our home in Arkansas (Foster, Randolph co, Ark). We did our traveling by train on the Denver-Rio Grande Railroad, through Salt Lake City, Denver and Pueblo, Colorado, Kansas City and St Louis, Mo. The folks did stay long enough to collect a few picture folders of the areas they went through, and of Salt Lake City.

By the time I was eight years o1d, the missionaries had persuaded my father to move to Enola, Arkansas, where there was a branch of the church called the Barney Branch, about 30 miles north of Little Rock. It was there I was baptized and confirmed by Elder Arthur Glover, 2 May, 1915.

A few days before the baptism, a heavy rain storm had made the river where we had to do the baptisms very swift and muddy. Sunday was set for the baptism. Another couple and I were the only ones to be baptized. A large crowd of members and a large one of non-members had gathered to see the baptism. Mother knew I had a horror of water it if [sic] was muddy so I could not see into it, and if it was more than ankle deep. She was afraid I would cry and refuse to be baptized. I imagine she said a silent prayer because I didn't feel the least bit afraid. Any time before that, or since, I would have screamed in horror if someone had tried to get me to go into the water.

Soon after we moved to the Barney Branch, father was put in as president and my oldest brother, Emmett, was put in as Sunday School superintendent.

We now had our own church to go to and our own school, taught by one of the missionaries. The non-members were very bitter toward the Mormons. We had to pass each other on our way to school. The non-members would not speak to us if there were four or more walking on the other side of the road. We children called them 'love breakers'. The church later thought it would be better if we went to the regular public school. It did help. The people became more friendly with us.

While we lived in the Barney Branch, our brother, Emmett, married and two sisters, Blanche and Edna, married and the two cousins mother and father raised from infancy, were also married.

On 27 February, 1919, my father decided he wanted to go back to the farm we left in northern Arkansas. About 15 December, 1923, Dad got the travelling fever again. We moved to Ft. Thomas, Arizona, where one of my sisters lived. On 9 June, 1927, we moved to Twin Falls, Idaho. All the married children except my oldest sister, Ada, had moved to Idaho and liked it very much.

I had finished high school and wanted to take nurses training, but my folks didn't want me to, because, at that time, a lot of people thought nursing was a degrading profession. I couldn't think of anything else I wanted to do so I didn't go to college.

I saw my future husband twice during the summer of 1928. We met officially at a dance in September of that year. A friend, George Miller, introduced him to me. I suppose Jerald Wesley Glenn, who had just returned from a mission in Australia, was shopping around to see which girl he liked the best and had gone with George's girl, because when George introduced us he said, "Here is a nice girl. Go with her and leave mine alone!" We danced together that evening. We saw each other at the dance every week end. Then he asked me for a date to the "Green and Gold Ball". We went together steady after that night. We were engaged 20 January 1929, and married 30 August that year in the Salt Lake Temple, Salt Lake City, Utah, by Elder George F. Richards. We spent some time sight seeing in Salt Lake City and took a drive up the Columbia river to Portland, Oregon. We were gone two weeks.

Our first home was an old five room two story house on one of the farms of Wesley's father. On 15 January 1931, our first child, a daughter was born. Wesley's mother named her Moena. On 17 March 1932, our second child, a daughter, was born. We named her Patricia because she was born on St. Patrick's Day and Ann because it was a family name on both sides of the family. On 24 August 1933, our first son was born. We named him Donald Wesley--Wesley after his father and Donald for another name, I guess. Our fourth and last child, a son, was born 21 October 1936. I never could decide on a name for any of the children. One day my brother Lyman was visiting me. I told him I could not think of a name. He thought awhile and then said, "Why not add a 'D' to his dad‘s first name and call him Derald instead of Jerald (his dad's first name). Then he said, "add Boyd for a middle name and you will have Derald Boyd Glenn." That is what we named him or what Lyman named him. We were very happy. We had two girls and two boys.

While Donald was a baby, we moved to the place where we lived for a long time, on Highway US 30, one mile north and one mile west of Kimberly, Idaho.

Our children had the usual childhood diseases,mumps, measels [sic], chicken pox, whooping cough, etc. There weren't any vaccinations for those diseases at that time.

They all went to school, both grade and high school, in Kimberly. They were in all plays, bands, and choruses. Donald studied the clarinet and Derald the oboe. The two girls took vocal, violin, and piano lessons. They all won awards at the music festivals with their musical selections. During the summer of 1947, Moena and Patricia studied music at the summer music camp in Moscow, Idaho.

Moena graduated from Kimberly High School in 1949, Patricia in 1950, Donald in 1951 and Derald in 1954. Donald and Derald were president of the Kimberly Future Farmers of America (FFA) while they were seniors in high school. They won a number of awards in that field of study. Derald was selected to go to Kansas City, Mo., two different years to attend the National FFA Convention. One year he played his oboe in the National Band.

Donald attended the University of Idaho, at Moscow for four years, graduating with a degree in agronomy. The first year in college, he was chosen to be a member of the "Inter-Collegent Knights", which was quite an honor because it is usually given to an upper classman. In Moscow he met and later married Bonnie Ann Pickett, 16 June 1953, in the Idaho Falls Temple.

Derald, our youngest, went two years at Moscow majoring in music. He met Lois Adelaide Taylor. They married 15 June 1955 in the Idaho Falls Temple. While Derald was going to school at Moscow, a representative from Boeing Aircraft contacted him and influenced him to go work in their plant at Renton, Washington. He worked there for two years. He decided he wanted to come back to the farm and work with his father. This he did.

Patricia took a business course at Henager's Business College in Salt Lake City, Utah, and then worked as a stenographer at the Idaho Power Company division office in Twin Falls. In 1952 she met her husband, Allan Eugene Bates. They were married 31 March 1953 in the Idaho Falls Temple.

Moena attended two years at the University of Idaho at Moscow as a music major. She was chosen to be a member of the "Women's National Music Organization". She met her husband, Van Tassell Stonehocker, there. They were married 11 September 1951, in the Logan Temple, Logan, Utah.

We never had very much money but we have helped all of our children in one way or another. We divided food we raised each year and some money now and then as we had a bit to spare. We divided milk, meat, and vegetables that we raised in the huge garden that I planted and took care of every year.

>>Part 2

Friday, March 14, 2014

History of Richard Collings (1818-1891) and Emma Lawrence Collings (1825-1914): Part 2

Part 1
Part 2

The Collings family stayed in Salt Lake just long enough to recuperate from their dreadful experiences. Fred and David had their feet frozen so badly that the flesh came off from their heels.

Grandfather with his family went to Springville, Utah County and there made their home and helped pioneer that town.

While living at Springville, four more children were born to them, my father, William Richard, was born August 3, 1858; Lyman James, born January 14, 1861; Sarah Ann (named for her two grandmothers) was born August 19, 1863; and Mary Jane born July 22, 1866.

Life in this new country was very different from that which they had lived in the city of London, but they made adjustments and were sturdy pioneers.

For two years they lived in Hobble Creek Canyon, just southeast of Springville. Here grandfather farmed and raised cows, sheep, pigs, and chickens.

Grandmother learned to bake saltrising bread; and she had always bought bread in London. She learned to churn butter, something she had never seen done before. Instead of buying ready mad [sic] clothes, as they had always done, grandfather raised the sheep and sheared them; and grandmother washed and carded the wool and spun it into yarn, then had the yarn woven into cloth.

In 1872, they moved to Monroe, Sevier County, and were among the earliest pioneers of that settlement.
By this time grandfather owned quite a few sheep and they were the first to be herded on Monroe Mountains.

Grandfather wanted to make a dugout to live in until they could build a house, but grandmother, who always had a mind of her own, said "No, I'm not going under the ground until I'm dead." So grandfather and the boys went out to the cottonwoods southwest of town and got a lot of branches and built a bowery with a roof and three walls. This was on their new city lot. Here they lived quite comfortably while they got logs from the mountains and hewed them so they were smooth, and built a house. It was one of the first shingled roofs in Monroe, and was larger and higher than the other houses. It seemed like a large house to those people who were living in dugouts and low dirt roofed cabins. This house was still standing as of 1938.

A number of years later when a call came for people to go to Arizona and help make settlements there, grandfather and grandmother went their to make a new home. This was in 1879. Their two sons, William Richard and Lyman James, had received special calls and they went to help pioneer that country.

After spending several years at St. John's our grandparents returned to Monroe where they spent the remaining years of their lives.

Grandfather died July 12, 1891, at the age of 73 years. Richard Collings was a quiet unassuming man who wanted to live at peace with his fellowmen. One of his outstanding traits of character was honesty.

Grandmother was a widow for more than twenty-three years. She lived in her log house on our lot.

She was a faithful Relief Society teacher for many years. She was a most regular attendant at Sunday School as long as she lived, and was always at Sacrament meetings and bore her testimony whenever afforded an opportunity.

Always on Pioneer Day Celebration, Grandma Collings was on the stage among the honored guests and usually sang her handcart song. She sang it when she was in her eighties.

Handcart Song
Ye saints who dwell on Europe‘s shore
Prepare yourselves with many more,
To leave behind your native land,
For sure God's judgments are at hand.
For you must cross the raging main
Before the promised land you gain,
And with the faithful make a start 
To cross the plains with your handcart.

Chorus
For some must push and some must pull
As we go marching up the hill
So merrily on the way we go.
Until we reach the valley, OH!

Grandmother often related her experiences of crossing the plains and sang the six verses of this song.

She was well and active. Every day she went for long walks visiting her family and friends. What cared she for rain or snow, she enjoyed the walk in the out of doors.

In June 1914, her strength failed and she could not care for herself any longer. We had baked her bread and washed and ironed for her for a long time, but she had kept house for herself.

Her family decided to take turns taking care of her. I took care of her until in October, then she went to her son David's home.

She died December 7, 1914, just eleven days after her 89 birthday. Her sad death was the result of burns which she received when standing with her back to the stove and her clothing caught fire.

Grandmother had lived a life of trying experiences, and she had been true to the faith.

Our grandparents suffered all of the hardships incident to pioneer life and I appreciate them more each year, for their wonderful faith, endurance and courage.

Shall the youth of Zion falter
In defending truth and right?
While the enemy assaileth
Should we shrink or shun the fight? No!
True to the faith which our parent's [sic]
have cherished.
True to the truth for which martyrs have
perished.
To God's commands, soul, heart, and hand,
Faithful and true, we will ever stand.

written by Sylvia Collings Musig

History of Richard Collings (1818-1891) and Emma Lawrence Collings (1825-1914): Part 1


HISTORY OF RICHARD COLLINGS

AND HIS WIFE EMMA LAWRENCE COLLINGS
written by Sylvia Collings Musig

My grandfather, Richard Collings, was born at Marsworth, Breckingham Shire, England, on June 23, 1818. He was the son of Joseph and Sarah Harrowell Collings.

Grandmother, Emma Lawrence, was born in London, November 26, 1825. She was the daughter of Simon and Ann Archer Lawrence.

One of the events of her girlhood that grandmother often related was that of seeing Victoria crowned queen. This was in the year 1837, when grandmother was about twelve years of age.

My grandparents were married May 26, 1844. Grandfather was nearly 26 years old, and grandmother was 18 years and 6 months. Their first child, a little girl named Alice was born May 13, 1845. She died when four years of age.

They joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints and in the year 1856, they, with their five children, left their home and loved ones and immigrated to the "Promised Land."

Their children were Louisa, born November 1, 1846; Fredric John, born April 24, 1849; David, born April 19, 1851; George, born August 7, 1853; and Samuel Willard born December 7, 1855.

What courage those brave parents had, what love for the Gospel, that they could undertake such a journey with five small children, the oldest nine and one half years old and the baby only five months.

They embarked at Liverpool, May 22, 1856. They were forty-seven days crossing the Atlantic Ocean on a sailing vessel.

One night, while on the ocean, they were awakened by a great disturbance; the ship was rocking to and fro; the crew was running up and down, and there was such a noise and clanking of chains. The vessel was about to strike an iceberg. Naturally, grandmother became frightened but grandfather, in his cool collected way, said, "just keep calm, there‘s no use getting excited, there's no back door to run out of." They quietly kneeled down and asked God to protect them.

That remark was very typical of grandfather. He and most of their children, all through life, faced their problems calmly. When sorrow or misfortune came to them, they braced up and made no complaint, "there was no back door to run out of."

On June 30, 1856, 856 saints disembarked at Boston. They arrived at Iowa City, then the western terminus of the railroad, July 8th.

Before leaving London, grandfather sent money to Salt Lake City to pay their immigration, with the understanding that they cross the plains with an ox team, but after waiting on the Iowa camp grounds three weeks in the intense heat of midsummer, they were told that they were expected to walk and pull their provisions in a handcart.

As members of the Edward Martin Handcart Company, the Collings family left Iowa camp ground on July 28, 1856.

Grandfather pulled the cart, grandmother carried the baby, Samuel, who was then nearly nine months old, and at times she pushed with one hand on the cart. A little harness was made for Fred and Louisa and they helped pull. Fred was seven years old and Louisa had her tenth birthday one month before the journey's end. Five year old David walked all the way, and little three year old George rode in the cart on the baggage. Thus this brave hearted family, along with the others, traveled 1300 miles over plains and rough mountains.
The handcarts were poorly constructed, and were made of green timber, and they became so rickety on the way that the immigrants were forced to throw off part of their food and bedding which they needed so badly later.

Winter came early that year and found the company with little food or clothing and they were starving, freezing, and suffering from fatigue and disease.

How well I remember hearing grandmother tell the story, how at night the women and children helped scrape the snow away with tin plates so that they could pitch their tents. Often in the morning Aunt Louisa's hair was frozen to the ground.

One morning, fifteen in the camp were dead. The ground was frozen so hard that the wornout immigrants were forced to make graves so shallow that the company was scarcely out of sight when wolves devoured the dead.

When they reached the Sweet Water River, they found a swift current; the was [sic] was waist deep; the river was more than one hundred feet wide and full of floating ice. To cross the torrent meant nothing short of suicide as one sixth of their number had perished from crossing the North Platte eighteen days before. All of the warring elements of nature seemed to be against them. They cried to the Lord for help and three eighteen year old boys of a relief party came to the rescue and carried nearly every member of that ill-fated company across the stream.

They let as many of the smaller children ride as the rickety carts could hold. Each of the boys pulled a cart and carried one of the larger children on his back at the same time. There must have been nearly five hundred people in the company at that time; we can estimate the number of times those three boys crossed the river in order to carry those men, women, and older children and pull their carts across the icy torrent.

The boys who carried the company across the Sweet Water River were: Allen Huntington, George W. Grant, and David P. Klmball. The strain was so terrible, and the exposure so great that in later years all of the boys died from the effect of it. When Brigham Young heard of this heroic act he said, "That act alone will ensure them an everlasting salvation in the Celestial Kingdom of God."

[Editor's note: Check out this article discussing the accounts of the crossing of the Sweetwater.]

Like the children of Israel, these brave immigrants had fled to a promised land where they could worship as they thought right, but no cloud guided them by day, no firy [sic] pillar by night. The waters of the rivers never rolled back leaving a path for them to cross; no manna fell at their tent doors when they suffered from hunger; but their humble prayers were not in vain, and they received courage and strength.

Grandmother often related the following incident which she felt was an answer to their prayer for food and help. Brother Ephraim K. Hanks, while at Provo, was impressed to go to Salt Lake. He stopped over night at Draper. While lying awake in bed, a voice called to him saying, "The handcart people are in trouble. Will you go and help them?" Brother Hanks answered "yes, I will go." The voice called three times, repeating the same words. The answer was the same. In the morning, Brother Hanks hastened to Salt Lake and
two days later was on his way eastward, alone.

Ten miles east of Green River, he met a number of teams that had been sent to the relief of the belated companies but had turned back because of the deep snow. Those in charge had come to the conclusion that the immigrants had all perished. Brother Hanks got some of their supplies and went on his way. Several days later he met other [sic] returning. From them he secured a saddle-horse and pack animal and
went on.

Sixty miles from Devil‘s Gate, he killed a buffalo. He cut the meat in strips and lashed it on his horses. Toward evening, he saw a black streak in the snow. It was slowly moving, he knew what it was. At last he reached the ill-fated handcart camp. Brother Hanks said, "The starving forms and haggard looks of those poor dejected creatures can never be blooted [sic] from my mind." Flocking around him, starving mothers reached out their hands saying, "Please give me some meat for my hungry children." Shivering urchins with tears streaming down their thin cheeks cried out, "Please give me some." In a short time everyone was eating bison.

During the evening, Brother Hank's went from tent to tent anointing and administering to the sick. Some were healed instantly, many drooping spirits took fresh courage.

Grandfather Collings was very sick that night and was one to whom Brother Hanks administered, and he received strength to go on.

After that, Brother Hanks spent most of his time caring for the sick and afflicted. Some days he anointed and administered to as many as two hundred, and in many instances they were healed almost instantly.

Notwithstanding these wonderful manifestations of God's power many of the saints lost their limbs through freezing. Some lost their hands and others their feet.

Their food became so scarce that the company was put on rations, and several times the ration was cut down. At times, the only food in camp was a little flour. A few ounces was alloted [sic] each person for the day.

Now such care is taken in feeding our babies, and the mother's diet is so important, I think of poor grandmother half starved and frozen, walking all day. How did she feed her baby?

The four hundred and thirteen survivors of the Martin Handcart Company reached Salt Lake City, November 30, 1856, true to their religion, and their faith in God unshaken.

While in the LDS Hospital in Salt Lake City in 1924, I had as a roommate, an elderly lady with a wonderful personality. I had been in the room only a short time when she asked if I was a Mormon, then if my parents, or grandparents were pioneers. I said, "They were all pioneers," and when I told her that my father's parents were members of the Martin Handcart Company, she sat up in her bed, all interest, and said, "I shall never forget when that company came into Salt Lake. I was only six and one half years old. I stood by my father's side down where the Eagle Gate is now when a relief party brought the Martin Company into the city. Those poor people were so nearly starved and frozen that they scarcely resembled human beings. My father removed his hat, and stood with bowed head, the tears rolling down his cheeks and said, 'Of all the saints who have come to Zion, these brave-hearted people have suffered most. ' "

This remark was familiar to me and I asked, "Was your father President Brigham Young?" She said, "My father was Brigham Young and my mother was Zina D. Young. "

This lady was Zina Young Card.

>>Part 2