The Elsinore House: A Drummer's Home Away from home

The Elsniore House: A Drummer's Home Away from Home

By Wilhelmina J. Gunn

It is said that the most pleasant thing in the world is to have pleasant thoughts, and the great art of life is to have as many of them as possible. Reminiscing can be a lovely thing if one's own thoughts are directed to the finest memories of the past, and on the pleasant experiences which come to everyone's life.

One of my fondest recollections is of the years spent in the old hotel, known as The Elsinore House, which was owned and operated by my parents, Jens and Inger Jensen. Most likely these memoirs will interest no one except my family, but I am writing for my own pleasure and with the hope that my children will appreciate knowing about a very interesting period of my life.

To begin, I must tell a little of Elsinore's history. Its first settlers came from Richfield in 1874. They were all Danish converts to the Mormon Church. Numbered among them were my parents.

Joseph A. Young, at that time president of the Sevier Stake, gave his consent for these people to make a new settlement. He said, "I have passed through your town several times coming from Clear Creek Canyon. Every time I turn on the bend of the road I think of my visit to Denmark, and the little city of Elsinore" (pronounced "Helsinore" in Danish). Here was where Shakespeare's play Hamlet, had its setting. So this name, because of its Danish connection, was gladly accepted by the people. Father always told the story with great pride.

Like all Mormon communities, Elsinore was a peaceful little village — its inhabitants were almost like one large family, interested in their church, their school, and making a living. But soon, amusements and recreation played an important role, for in a few years Elsinore developed a choir, a brass band, home dramatics, and a baseball team. Dancing was always the favorite diversion.

There was a close association and also some rivalry between the towns in Sevier County. This was especially true of Richfield and Elsinore.

With the coming of the Denver and Rio Grande Railroad in 1896, life in Elsinore took on a complete change. For several years the town became the terminus of the railroad. The mines nearby, Kimberly and Sevier, were in full operation. Traveling men, railroad men, and miners Stopped at Elsniore. Soon, a livery stable was in operation, where these men could get teams and wagons or buggies, called "white tops," to take them to the mines and to southern Utah. Wool growers came from the south with their clips in the spring, and wool buyers came from Denver and Salt Lake City.

Uncle Chris Jensen operated a hotel which was always overcrowded. It was then that an idea began taking form in my father's mind. It was this — why not start a hotel. Father was a merchant, so received encouragement from several traveling men. Of course, it would necessitate enlarging our home, which presented a problem, but there was mother, a splendid cook, and three daughters, soon old enough to earn money of their own.

A bishop's house in those days was really an open house to travelers and immigrants who were coming to Utah, their Zion, in large numbers. They almost always needed help. Many received food and lodging in our home until they were settled in homes of their own. The most important guests were church people, who came to town, either passing through or on official duties. Some were agents for the Deseret News and church magazines. Others were teachers from the Brigham Young Academy, who came to encourage our young people to attend that school.

Often people came from southern and eastern Utah to trade at the Co-op Store. Father, being the manager, often felt it his duty to entertain the customers at our home. All this brought a great deal of work for mother, who at times became tired and discouraged. Often she remarked, "I might as well be running a hotel. Then we could at least have money to pay our expenses." Each time mother expressed that thought, the hotel idea grew stronger in father's mind. He hoped it would solve a number of financial problems.

But Father was trained in the "old school," as he called it, so he never made an important move without first consulting the church authorities — for example, settling Elsinore, establishing the Co-op, building the roller mill, and regarding other enterprises. So in regard to building and operating a hotel, he went to his old friend, Apostle Anthon H. Lund, who later became my sister Emma's father-in-law. President Lund gave father his advice, "Well, Brother Jensen, in a financial way it seems a good proposition, but will you dare to entrust your daughters to that kind of environment?" Then he added, "If you do, never cease to watch over them." That almost squelched the whole idea, but after weeks of consultation with mother and earnest prayers, it was decided to go ahead with the hotel plans.

First, work began by tearing down part of the old home. Eight rooms were added, which when completed seemed so large and wonderful. We had a living room, kitchen, pantry, and seven bedrooms. At the time our hotel was built, there were no plumbers in Sevier County. So, the necessary bathroom had to wait until later years when a room we girls called our den was made into a big bathroom. Then we had the usual summer kitchen, store, and sample rooms.

Oh, how thrilling and exciting living in a hotel would be! We girls were at an age when life was indeed an adventure — everything seemed interesting and beautiful. To think of having a new home, new furniture, and to think of the strangers who would live in our house — traveling salesmen, mining men, traveling dramatic companies, wool buyers, and stockmen, among others. Three doctors from the East at different times practiced in Elsinore, each making the hotel their headquarters. My sister Tina married one of them, Dr. J. W. Hagan.

Now began preparations for furnishing the house. Mother made quilts, washed and carded wool, and also made quilt blocks with very little help from her daughters. But we did sew yards and yards of carpet rags, which were woven into homemade carpets.

Then came the day when the house was completed and we were ready to move in. Loads of furniture were arriving — "States" carpets, as imported carpeting was called, for the parlor; linoleum for the dining room and kitchen; Japanese matting for some of the bedrooms; and homemade carpet for others. Part of the living room furniture came from the parlor of the old home, also the bookcases, couch, and organ. There was a bay window always filled with house plants — fuchsias and Martha Washington geraniums. Mother had a way of making them bloom the year around.

The dining room had a large new table, chairs, and a piece of furniture we all admired called a sideboard, or buffet. It was a new piece of furniture that we had never seen before. We thought it was lovely.

Lights in the living and dining rooms were to us dazzling and wonderful. They were called acetylene and were used extensively throughout southern Utah until electric lights were installed. The bedrooms and kitchen were lighted by coal oil lamps. Beside the bed, each bedroom had a wash stand with its bowl and pitcher, and, of course, the necessary toilet bucket. There were also a stove, a chair, and a small table in the room.

There were barrels of new dishes to unpack, knives, forks, spoons, and cooking utensils, also table linens and towels. The bed linen, I am sure, was homemade, as I remember seeing yards of unbleached sheeting hanging on the clothesline to bleach.

We are not sure of the exact date when we opened The Elsinore House, but we think it was the spring of 1897. Mother was the supervisor. For a time a cook was employed, but after a few months mother felt that it was an unnecessary expense, so took over the job herself. We girls were to work as maids and waitresses.

Our first guests were members of the South American Expedition Company, a group of young and older men sent by the L.D.S. Church to that continent to explore ancient ruins of Book of Mormon history. That day was one of the outstanding times of my life. I shall never forget it. Brother Benjamin duff was in charge of the party, I believe. I want to say in praise of the traveling men who stopped at our hotel, that with the exception of a few, no finer men ever lived. They were men of the highest character, always friendly and courteous. There was no indication of the treacherous "drummer" we had been warned against, who was supposed to be always ready to lead women astray. Among these traveling men were cultured singers who always joined in our evening of singing around the piano (the organ earlier) and often brought new songs down from Salt Lake City. When he was at home, my brother Walter often added to those pleasant evenings by singing with his cultured baritone voice.

Father was prejudiced against card playing, so he never allowed us girls to play, but we were permitted to go to dances and buggy rides with some of the favored men who stayed at our house. But father and mother always made the decision as to who was worthy. They always felt that we were secure with the ZCMI salesmen.

Our prices at the hotel began at $ 1.00 a day — 25 cents for each meal and 25 cents for a bed. Some of the traveling men often told mother that it was entirely too cheap. But not until several months had passed without any profit was mother converted to raising her prices to $2.00 per day. That price held throughout all the years that we were in the hotel business. Had it not been for the fact that father raised much of our produce, the hotel could not have been operated at that price, even in those days.

Mother was a schemer. We all knew that she was the financier of the family, and as the saying goes she could always make "ends meet." We all worked hard, at times too hard, especially mother, but we didn't notice it too much because we were young and happy and thoroughly enjoying hotel life. It brought us into contact with many interesting people. Many were a source of education to us. Strange as it seems, none of us married traveling men, even though we had a romance with one or two of them.

We had a dinner bell made by my grandfather, who was a brazier and brass molder. He made many kinds of bells, among them the church bell, which for many years rang the hours for the services in Elsinore. When meals were ready in our hotel, our dinner bell was rung and heard for blocks around. There were no set hours for meals, but when the bell rang our guests knew that it was time to eat. There was never much variety in the meals, but they were wholesome and substantial and cooked as only mother knew how to prepare them. It is said that "the way to a man's heart is through his stomach," and mother not only won the hearts of her patrons that way, but by kindness and consideration at all times. She was affectionately called "Mother Jensen" by most of our regular patrons.

I well remember how we enjoyed the opportunity to look at the samples that the salesmen put on display in our sample room. Never will I forget the coats, skirts, and shoes that my sisters ordered from these samples. Those were happy, interesting years for us Jensen girls, and for many of our friends who came to the hotel to share in many happy times. I recall the old song we used to sing, "Where is now the merry party I remember long ago/Laughing around the hotel fire, brightened by its ruddy glow."

I loved the old hotel so much that when my parents sent me away to attend the Snow Academy one winter, I went reluctantly. And to spend another year away from home to teach school was indeed, a trial to me. However, the old saying, "Nothing in this world can last" came true as applied to our lives in the hotel business. My sisters married and moved away; mother and father were getting along in years and were worn out from such intensive work. I eventually lost interest in the hotel, so father and mother decided to retire to a more quiet life. Accordingly, they built a new home just north of the hotel, where they continued watching the hotel with interest. That was in the year 1908, and for 15 or 16 more years the hotel continued to operate under different management. And then, a young Lochinvar, by the name of Horace Gunn, came out of the West (from Beaver), always on horseback, and his steed was really the best. He became my husband. During our courtship he stopped at the old hotel.

Business began to dwindle, due to a number of reasons, mainly because the mines at Kimberly and Sevier were gradually shutting down, which naturally lessened patronage at the hotel. Billie Johnston built his modern hotel at Richfield, which was more desirable than our old-fashioned one, so we lost many patrons except for a few loyal ones.

Then came the time that the hotel went the way of many old homes and buildings to make room for a service station. Ours was sold to the Shell Gas Company. Although having the old home sold and torn down was heartbreaking for the whole family, it had served us well, and we decided that was the thing to do. So before the wrecking began, we held a family reunion in the old hotel. That was indeed a time for reminiscing, for many experiences of those happy days were recalled.

It was farewell to the "Old Hotel," but memories of our lives there will linger in our hearts forever.

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