Pioneer Poetry: “A Song of Wheels,” by Margery S. Stewart

In 1994, SUP developed a scholarship and honor program called “Tomorrows Pioneers.” Originated by Angus H. Belliston, the program continues today (see page 29, this issue).

A 70-foot-flagpole in front of the northwest corner of the Headquarters Building was dedicated in 2000 under the presidency of Dr. Ray H. Barton. “Old Glory” waving from this flagpole can be seen from many locations in the valley and has become a landmark.

SUP Family History Library

With the SUP Headquarters Building in place, the SUP Library began to take shape under the direction of Florence Youngberg and the national officers. It has since grown into a library of commanding presence with contents sought after worldwide. Eventually the Family History Library of the Canyon Rim Stake of the LDS church was combined with the SUP Library. Florence Youngberg first directed the Center until Sandra Jensen became director of the FHC site in the SUP Library complex.

A set of historical biographies compiled by Florence Youngberg has been made available in four volumes entitled Conquerors of the West.

Librarian Marilyn Johnson later paired with Florence Youngberg to manage the library (see “Searching the SUP Library,” pages 34–36, this issue).

Mission of the National Society

A“Mission Statement” for the National Society was formulated in 2005, stressing the vitality and values of the organization: • Preserve the memory and heritage of the early pioneers of the Utah Territory. We honor the pioneers for their faith in

God; devotion to family; loyalty to church and country; hard work and service to others; courage in adversity; personal integrity; and unyielding determination. • Honor Present-day Pioneers worldwide in many walks of life, who exemplify these same qualities of character. • Teach these same qualities to the youth who will be tomorrow’s pioneers.

Unanimously approved by the SUP National

Board, November 8, 2005. A Song of Wheels—by Margery S. Stewart

The wagon wheels are high and white, They make a scarring in the snow, The way that wheels do, coming hard Behind the oxen, dark and slow. The wind, a winter Indian, stalks Past tattered canvas, tattered shawl. Crouched on the ridges, broods the night, Like taloned birds, the shadows fall. Then from the farthest wagon back, A grizzled man begins to sing, The song is like him, strong and deep, The music makes a rising ring, A spreading splendor in the dark, To which the others bend their brands. Someone else against the stark Oppression sings out sure and bold. Others . . . and others . . . here and here . . . Until the notes are all held high, A fire of music in the night. Forgotten specters turn and fly, Once more the wagons circle and stand. The dark shrinks back to the edge of the land.