Susan Hosenfeld David Johnson Angela Lindquist

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be lost? If you have, you might enjoy the story of Emily B. Spencer. Emily was born in 1834 in New York, crossed the plains with her husband shortly after they were married and arrived in SLC in 1851. After Emily’s husband died, she lived in Cannonville, Utah near two of her married children and at one time visited one son in a small town in Colorado near Sanford. “To know that Emily was a very small woman might be of interest to the reader of the following incident, which was taken verbatim from her writings.” “I scoured the wooden pail and started to Emma Eccles to get the pickled beans that showed me for a book (Emily Spencer had published a book of poetry). I thought she lied directly west and made a bee line west through the brush. Came to an extra good wire fence, followed the fence south and seeing no better place, turned up my dress and crawled through, catching my red petticoat on the barbs. Saw what I supposed was a house and shed a good way off and went along by the partition fence toward them. When I reached them found it was a shed and hog stable and yard and I knew I was in Bro. Beers hog ranch. I did not see any hogs so concluded he had sold his 300 except a few he might have somewhere else. I saw a patch of ground plowed, so I walked until I came to the western fence, crawled through the gate, that I couldn’t open, and was in the road that led to Sanford. I could see no house west, so started north as I thought I saw a house. After a long time I reached it after passing the hog ranch that seemed interminable, counting 37 pigs in a bunch. Afterwards I heard he had 200 there. He owns a large field of barley and when it is ripe turns in his hogs and they help themselves and fatten or the Denver market. “I came to the house and rolled under the fence and found it a horse stable without a roof. I turned east and coming to a wire fence rolled under it and was out in a road going north. Passed a yoke of oxen lying down. One had such ugly horns, lopped a way down. Looked back and saw a man coming with a coat over his arm, stopped until he came up with me and I could inquire where Emma Eccles lived. He told me where Sister Eccles lived and to come along with him and he would put me on the right road. We walked on until we came to a road that led west where we parted, I taking the west road and he the north to his ranch house. He told me a better road to go home. I went a mile it seemed to me, and rolled under another wire fence, and taking a north west course at last came to the low adobe house and was warmly welcomed. Sister Eccles cooked me some eggs and gave me bread, butter, eggs and milk and citron preserves for dinner. Then we had a good visit looking at the 72 little chickens and her numerous thrifty house plants and at three started home with seven new kinds of house plants, some cypress and petunia seeds, a roll of newspapers and the pail of pickled beans. “It seemed very heavy and the sun exceedingly hot while the wind blew cool. I took the road as indicated and walked pretty well only stopping to change the pail from one hand to the other. Came past the ranch where some one had a tent and felt if I went further it would take me away east of my son’s house which is so low I could not see it, so rolled under the fence and came on down until I saw stock or horses and not caring to go by them rolled under the dividing fence and saw the stock was the same ugly yoke of oxen I had seen before in the road. Came to a gap and found myself by the hog ranch again. Came southeast and passed a dead critter and thinking it was Heiner’s cow turned east to the fence, but could not find the house. Crossing so many dry ditches bewildered me and I was lost. I turned north but saw no sign of habitation. The pole fence was new to me but I concluded to go south to the end of the fence and then see if I could find my way by any landmark or find where I had pulled up brush (Emily pulled up rabbit brush for fuel when wood was scarce) and then my way would be clear. The fence stretched ahead of me. I lost my bundle of papers, set down the pail of pickled beans but started back after them as I thought I might lose them too. I turned back and picked them up and came on hardly knowing where the papers were lost. The fence merged into a wire one and then I saw the house and my heart was glad for the sun was nearly down and the prospect of wandering around in the rabbit brush at night among the coyotes was not cheerful. I soon reached home and Letitia, my daughter-in-law was so glad, she was afraid that I was lost.”