Utah Historical Quarterly, Volume 70, Number 1-4, 2002

Page 1

WINTER 2002

VOLUME 70

NUMBER 1


U T A H

HISTORICAL

QUARTERLY

(ISSN 0042-143X)

EDITORIAL

STAFF

MAX J. EVANS, Editor STANFORD J. LAYTON, Managing

Editor

KRISTEN SMART ROGERS, Associate

Editor

ALLAN KENT POWELL, Book Review

Editor

A D V I S O R Y B O A R D

OF

EDITORS

NOEL A. CARMACK, Hyrum, 2003 LEE ANN KREUTZER,Torrey, 2003 ROBERT S. MCPHERSON, Blanding, 2004 MIRIAM B. MURPHY, Murray, 2003 ANTONETTE CHAMBERS NOBLE, Cora,WY, 2002 JANET BURTON SEEGMILLER, Cedar City, 2002 JOHN SILLITO, Ogden, 2004 GARY TOPPING, Salt Lake City, 2002 RONALD G. WATT, West Valley City, 2004

Utah Historical Quarterly was established in 1928 to publish articles, documents, and reviews contributing to knowledge of Utah history. The Quarterly is published four times a year by the Utah State Historical Society, 300 R i o Grande, Salt Lake City, Utah 84101. Phone (801) 533-3500 for membership and publications information. Members of the Society receive the Quarterly, Beehive History, Utah Preservation, and the bimonthly newsletter upon payment of the annual dues: individual, $20; institution, $20; student and senior citizen (age sixty-five or older), $15; sustaining, $35; patron, $50; business, $100.

Manuscripts submitted for publication should be double-spaced with endnotes. Authors are encouraged to include a PC diskette with the submission. For additional information on requirements, contact the managing editor. Articles and book reviews represent the views of the authors and are not necessarily those of the Utah State Historical Society.

Periodicals postage is paid at Salt Lake City, Utah. POSTMASTER: Send address change to Utah Historical Quarterly, 300 R i o Grande, Salt Lake City, Utah 84101.


WINTER 2002

VOLUME 70

NUMBER 1

2

IN THIS ISSUE

4

Utah Schools and the Japanese American Student Relocation Program By R . Todd Welker

21

The Utah Writers' Project and Writing o f Utah: A Guide to the State By Richard L. Saunders

39

Dorothea Lange's Portrait o f Utah's Great Depression By James R. Swensen

63

H e c a t o m b at Castle Gate, Utah, March 8, 1924 By Philip F. Notarianni

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Senator Orval Hafen and the Transformation o f Utah's Dixie By Douglas D. Alder

92

B O O K REVIEWS Morris A. Shirts and Kathryn H. Shirts. A Trial Furnace: Southern Utah's Iron Mission. Reviewed by Douglas D. Alder

Samuel Nyal Henrie, ed. Writings of John D. Lee Reviewed by Lawrence G. Coates

William Wroth, ed. Ute Indian Arts and Culture: From Prehistory to the New Millennium. Reviewed by Forrest S. C u c h

Ronald W.Walker, David J.Whittaker, and James B.Allen. Mormon History. Reviewed by Peter L. Kraus

Arnold K. Garr, Donald Q. Cannon, Richard O. Cowan, eds. Encyclopedia of Latter-day Saint History. Reviewed by David A. Hales

Jan Shipps. Sojourner in the Promised Land: Forty Years Among the Mormons. Reviewed by Newell G. Bringhurst

Polly Steward, Steve Siporin, C.W. Sullivan III, and Suzi Jones, eds. Worldviews and the American West: The Life of the Place Itself. Reviewed by G e o r g e H. Schoemaker

• COPYRIGHT 2002 UTAH STATE HISTORICAL SOCIETY


I N

T H I S

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I S S U E

s this issue goes to press, Utah, in the thick of the Olympic Games, is trying to make good on the slogan coined for the occasion: "The world is welcome here." The sentiment has great appeal; however, if we place it in a historical context we can see that it is simply one more trend in the state's evolving relationships between "insiders" and "outsiders." O n e example: During the Japanese American internment of World War II, the National Student Relocation Council asked colleges around the country if they -would accept students of Japanese ancestry. Of Utah's three major colleges, two welcomed the Nisei. The other said no—and expelled those already enrolled. O u r first article explores these divergent decisions as well as the students' experiences on campus and in Utah communities. The "world is welcome" slogan is part of the tremendous efforts that have gone into image-making in preparation for the Games. This issue next turns to historical processes of image-making. The Writers' Project, a federal program that employed out-of-work writers and historians during the Great Depression, resulted in a set of state guidebooks, including Utah: A Guide to the State. The guide was meant to make Utah attractive to tourists (and also to make the Writers' Project look worthwhile). But a most compelling story lies in the politics and bureaucratic tangles behind the finished book.


Also during the depression, Dorothea Lange came to U t a h w i t h her camera and an agenda. As our third article explains, her wellk n o w n 1930s p h o t o s of U t a h do n o t necessarily reflect reality; instead, she created them as propaganda tools to garner support for federal farm relief programs. Juxtaposed with the Lange images, a photo essay on the Castle Gate M i n e e x p l o s i o n of 1924 offers o p p o r t u n i t y for f u r t h e r reflection on the hypothesis that every photo reflects an agenda. Today's viewer cannot k n o w -whether the photographer had a political p u r p o s e in mind, but the images certainly make a forceful statement even today. Last, we turn to a man w h o took up a lifelong crusade to transform St. George both in image and in fact. Orval Hafen worked on many fronts toward his goal of making a destination tourist attraction out of this agricultural town. Although the image he held in his mind and communicated to others did not accomplish this feat alone, it planted vital seeds. Now, for the Olympic Games and beyond, Utah organizations continue to t w e a k — o r recast—public images. Future historians will have the opportunity to set the Games, with their catchy slogans, banners, media events, and more, in the larger context of evolving public relations. In the meantime, readers of this journal may find it interesting indeed to compare the P R . goals and challenges of today with those of past decades.

OPPOSITE: Madge Young Nielson, Widtsoe postmistress, photographed by Dorothea Lange in 1936. ABOVE: Springdale family harvesting peaches, photographed by Dorothea Lange in 1938. ON THE COVER: 1941 publicity photo for Utah: A Guide to the State. The caption reads, "Walter Frese of Hastings House, Gwen Nolan, United Airlines stewardess, and William Henry Jackson, 98 years of age, pioneer photographer, at New York City airport. First copy of 'Utah Guide' was transported by plane and presented to Governor Maw." Jackson had driven a bull train to Salt Lake City in 1867.


Utah Schools and the Japanese American Student Relocation Program By R. TODD WELKER

U

tah has been recognized as an important site for the study of Japanese American relocation during World War II. A number of scholarly works document the state's role in the evacuation story. Prominent among these works are histories of Topaz and the Japanese American Citizens League (JACL).1 However, at least one aspect of Utah's evacuation role has not received the attention it deserves, that of the involvement of Utah universities in the Japanese American Student Relocation Program. At a time when relatively few groups sought to help the Japanese, a number of colleges and universities took part in this program, the purpose of which -was to open the doors of college campuses throughout the nation to assist Nisei (second-generation Japanese American citizens) in continuing their higher education. Recognized as the Students at the University of Utah first step in resettling Japanese Americans Park Building during the 1940s. R.ToddWelker is a graduate student in history at Utah State University. He would like to thank Brian Q. Cannon for making him aware of this topic and critiquing early drafts.

1 See Leonard J. Arrington, The Price of Prejudice (Logan: Utah State University Press, 1962); Sandra C. Taylor, Jewel of the Desert: Japanese American Internment at Topaz (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993); Roger Daniels, Sandra C.Taylor, and Harry Kitano, eds., Japanese Americans: From Relocation to Redress (Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, 1991); Elmer R. Smith, "The Japanese in Utah," Utah Humanities Review 11 (April-July, 1948).


STUDENT RELOCATION PROGRAM

after incarceration in the relocation centers, the program played a crucial part in alleviating the evacuation blow. Given the program's importance, it is only natural that we explore the involvement of Brigham Young University (BYU), the University of Utah (U of U), and Utah State University, then known as Utah State Agricultural College (USAC). Surprisingly little has been published on the matter, and most of the available material is confusing. Scholarly works, including those by Roger Daniels, Leonard Arrington, and Sandra Taylor, exhibit a number of discrepancies with regard to the involvement of the U of U and Utah State in student relocation, and in none of them is B Y U even mentioned. 2 It becomes difficult, therefore, to trace Utah's contributions to this program based on existing accounts. In fact, there is an interesting story behind each school's decision either to open or close its doors to Japanese American students. This study seeks to relate the circumstances b e h i n d those decisions. At the same time, this essay explores the issue of Utah's distinctive treatment of Japanese Americans during World War II. In his article "Utah's Ambiguous Reception: The Relocated Japanese Americans," Leonard Arrington argues that in some ways Utah distinguished itself from other states by demonstrating unusual favor toward the Japanese during the war. O n the other hand, he recognized evidence of statewide prejudice, suggesting that Utah was no different than the rest of the nation. 3 The experience of Utah schools in the Student Relocation Program helps to solidify Arrington's argument, for it too is tinged with ambiguity. In some ways, Utah universities showed extraordinary favor toward the Japanese, and in other ways they reflected the prevailing prejudices. There is little ambiguity, however, behind the beginnings of the Japanese A m e r i c a n Student R e l o c a t i o n P r o g r a m itself. Soon after Franklin Roosevelt issued Executive Order 9066, groups that included students, educators, religious organizations, and the Japanese American Citizens League began meeting voluntarily to discuss the fate of Nisei college students. After a series of conventions, and with the backing of the War Department, they gained official recognition from the federal government as the National Student Relocation Council (later changed to National Japanese American Student Relocation Council). Basic tasks of the council included raising funds for students, distributing inquiries so that potential students might obtain FBI clearance (a prerequisite to acceptance), visiting 2 Daniels's book Concentration Camps: North America (Malabar, FL: Krieger Publishing, 1981) notes that "the state universities of Utah.. .expressed almost immediate willingness to admit [Japanese] students," suggesting that both the U of U and USAC cooperated with program officials from the outset. Arrington, on the other hand, makes it clear in The Price of Prejudice that the USAC and U of U turned down all Nisei applications beginning in 1942 but then began accepting them "in the late stages of the war." Taylor asserts in Jewel of the Desert that the University of Utah opened its doors to the Nisei from the beginning, while "the president of Utah State University... refused them admittance." 3 Leonard J. Arrington, "Utah's Ambiguous Reception: The Relocated Japanese Americans," in Daniels et al., eds., Japanese Americans.


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

relocation camps to encourage Nisei enrollment, and convincing inland institutions to open their doors. The council received "no financial assistance whatever from the government either for operating expenses or for scholarship aid to the students." All expenses, including salaries, were paid by voluntary contributors. 4 Brigham Young University demonstrated immediate willingness to further the efforts of the relocation council. Compared to the U of U and the USAC, it had an easy time in deciding to open its doors to the Nisei. In fact, very little deliberation, if any, appear to have been necessary. T h e few remaining records of direct correspondence between t h e s t u d e n t r e l o c a t i o n c o u n c i l and t h e administration at B Y U reveal the decisionmaking process. O n September 21, 1942, the university began receiving letters from the council, to w h i c h President Franklin S. Harris immediately responded: "For many years we have had a few Japanese students Brigham Young University here and we shall be glad to have any of president Franklin S. Harris. them in the future who are properly recommended." 5 He later wrote, "We accept all the relocation students w h o are recommended, and they can enter at any time." 6 Such was the policy of Brigham Young University from the beginning. In addition to influencing administrative policy, Harris played a direct role in aiding many prospective Japanese American students. From March to December 1942, extensive correspondence between Harris and Nisei students attested to his personal involvement. In one letter, he received not only an admittance request but also a plea for additional assistance. Calvin Harada wrote to Harris from the Topaz Relocation Center on November 24, "Being without funds at the time, can you find me a job so that I may attend college? I have a mother and sister; my mother would like to work in Provo, room and board, and earn my tuition, and my sister would like to attend secondary high school. Can you find a job for my mother also?"

4 Robert W. O'Brien, The College Nisei (Palo Alto: Pacific Books, 1949), 60-67. For another comprehensive study of the experiences of the Nisei participating in student relocation, see Gary Y. Okihiro, Storied Lives:Japanese-American Students and World War II (Seattle: University ofWashington Press, 1999). 5 Franklin S. Harris papers, box 92, folder M-MC, Brigham Young University Archives, Provo, UT. 6 Ibid.,fldrK.


STUDENT RELOCATION PROGRAM

Harris responded a few days later: We would be able to find part-time work at the University for you and your sister, but it is doubtful if we would have work for your mother. However, there is a good deal of work for women here in town. In fact, just this morning a friend of ours called w o n dering where we could get a Japanese woman to help for a few days. I think the better thing for you to do would be for you to come here, and then you can look around for your mother. 7

President Harris demonstrated a -willingness to go beyond the mere acceptance process. He was concerned not only with the students' ability to attend BYU but also with their having the means to complete their studies. Helen Shiozawa, a Japanese American who attended B Y U during the war years, recognized Harris's influence in opening the school's doors to the Nisei. As a student from 1942 through 1945, she r e m e m b e r e d , "President Harris was particularly open to the Japanese. I didn't know [that] until I got there and then I found out that there had been some comments made at the faculty meetings about what they -were gonna do—because other schools had closed the doors to any Japanese American students—and he said our school is wide open. And I think that made a big difference."8 Not only did President Harris openly accept the Nisei but evidence also suggests that the students at B Y U did the same. Don Bowen submitted an article to the university newspaper -wherein he deplored the "short-sighted bigotry" of President Atkinson of the University of Arizona, who refused to allow what he called "the enemy" to enroll in U of A extension courses. "Such an attitude," Bowen argued, suggested that "we throw out both Christianity and democracy...and hate those with whom we are forced to fight...and who are purely by circumstance associated with [the enemy] For myself," he concluded, "I am proud and happy that I am privileged to be a member of an institution where the rational mantle of reason is not substituted by the roguish garments of blind emotion, where we welcome, not shun our American brothers of the Japanese race."9 Although Bowen's article represented the opinion of only one student, his use of the term "-we" suggests that he saw himself as a spokesman on behalf of the entire student body. The institution as a whole, in his view, should be praised for the way it had received Japanese Americans in their time of need. George Funatake's personal experience at B Y U confirms the positive student response. Living in Portland when the war broke out, George and his entire family were consigned to the Minidoka relocation camp in southern Idaho. In 1944 he attended B Y U for one year before enlisting in 7

Ibid.,box91,fldrH. Helen Shiozawa, telephone interview with author, December 27, 1999, Ogden, Utah; notes in possession of author. 9 "Scribe Lambasts Arizona U President for Jap Stand," White and Blue, December 4, 1942. It is ironic that the article speaks of welcoming the Japanese but that the headline writer uses the discriminatory term "Jap" in the title. This usage seems to have been a common occurrence, and it demonstrates how kindness and prejudice did coexist. 8


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

the army. Although not a member of the M o r m o n faith, Funatake recalled good times -when he thought of his short stay at the LDS-owned university: There were a bunch of us in this professor's h o m e This professor had rooms made in his basement, you know, partitioned off. There were quite a few of us; there were.. .dischargees and some going in like me, so we were a mixed group. I don't k n o w if that John Christiansen is still around, but he was a blind guy going to school and w e took him up to that big "Y," you know, on the hill. I can still remember that. 10

W h e n asked about his B Y U experience, Funatake first thought of the times he had spent with fellow students. H e seemed to have interacted quite naturally w i t h those around h i m , especially -with those n o t of Japanese descent. "There were a few [Japanese students] I remember there were a couple of brothers from the Oakland area...but I can't r e m e m b e r any of t h e m by n a m e . I always associated n o t w i t h t h e Japanese...so it felt normal to me." 11 Funatake's easy acceptance into non-Japanese social circles suggests that the students played a role in contributing to the success of the school's open door policy. The faculty at B Y U -was also praised for having taken a special interest in the Nisei. Seichi Watanabe arrived at the school in 1942. O f his two years there, he recalled with gratitude the positive role of the professors in shaping his experience: "I have tremendous respect for the members of the faculty All of the professors that I studied under were excellent educators to begin with, and they -were very helpful to us. I think they realized that we were in a bad situation, and I could feel that they were trying to be nice to us I think they understood." 12 In the final analysis, the university emerged as one of the most active participants in student relocation during the heart of the war. In 1943, nearly forty Japanese American students were enrolled, placing the school behind only four other U.S. institutions with regard to overall numbers. 13 Furthermore, "a group of 300 U.S. Army privates arrived at the school on July 1, 1942 to complete the Army Specialization Training Program." On-campus military training could have provided the administration with a "good excuse" to limit or even deny admittance to the Japanese, especially since a lack of facility space had already created problems. 14 But there is no evidence suggesting that these circumstances influenced the administration's posture toward the Nisei, and even if they were considered, the school never did modify its policy of unlimited enrollment for Japanese Americans. Perhaps the most obvious reason why B Y U responded the -way it did to 10

George Funatake, telephone interview with author, December 27, 1999, Portland, Oregon; notes in possession of author. 11 Ibid. 12 Seichi Watanabe, telephone interview -with author, December 27, 1999, Hilo, Hawaii; notes in possession of author. 13 O'Brien, The College Nisei, appendix. "Ernest L.Wilkinson, ed., BrighamYoung University: The First One Hundred Years, 4 vols. (Provo: Brigham Young University Press, 1975), 2:392.


STUDENT RELOCATION PROGRAM

Felice Kartchner Home Town: Flagstaff, Arizona Major: Musk

Jack S. Ka+o Home Town: Provo, Utah Major: Soils

Romola King Home Town: Provo, Utah Mojor: Sociology

Virginia Knowlton 1 Home Town; Holtadav, Utah : Major: English

Benjamin S. Kuraya :;', h

Home Town: Honolulu, Hawaii Major: Music

Kathleen

H.

Layton

Home Town: Loyton. Utah Major: Foods

the plight of the Nisei was the influence of BYU student photos in the 1944 President Harris. N o t only did he play a Banyan (BYU'syearbook,page direct role in establishing administrative policy 21y but he also became personally involved in helping the Nisei. Even years before his presidency, he had spent time in Japan recruiting for BYU. As a result, the first students to attend the university from outside North America were two young men from Japan. In addition, Harris made trips to the Topaz relocation center to help "solve various social and educational problems" and oversee the implementation of certain programs at the camp. 15 By personal example, he prepared the ground where BYU's open door policy could take root. Perhaps in an indirect way, the influence of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS or M o r m o n ) , which owned and operated the school, may have also contributed to BYU's positive reception. Leonard Arrington notes that "the preservation of peculiar [Mormon] values caused the Latter-day Saints to admire nations and peoples who, like the Japanese, were attempting the same." Furthermore, "ties had been established between key Utah leaders and the Japanese people after the Mormons established a proselyting mission in Japan in 1901." In fact, Heber J. Grant, who led the first LDS mission to Japan, acted as president of the church during World War II. Additionally, one of the state's more prominent political officials at the time, senior U.S. senator Elbert D. Thomas, was a leader within the Mormon church and had served a church mission to Japan.16 15 Ernest L. Wilkinson and W. Cleon Skousen, Brigham Young University: A School of Destiny (Provo: Brigham Young University Press, 1976), 254-55; White and Blue, May 1943. 16 Arrington, "Utah's Ambiguous Reception," 92—93.


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

Such factors may have affected, for good, the B Y U environment. Seichi Watanabe and George Funatake, although not members of the LDS church, recognized the importance of the M o r m o n influence. "I have a hell of a lot of respect for the M o r m o n people," Watanabe commented, "because they are all Mormons over there...and I was treated very well." Similarly, Funatake remarked, "I got along great. And we were just such a small group of guys.... Yeah, a lot of those guys were M o r m o n . . . from southern Utah and from Idaho."17 But to refer to the LDS church as an unmitigated influence for good would be misleading. Members of the M o r m o n community in Provo demonstrated open hostility toward the Japanese at times. Helen Shiozawa recalled, "Some places wouldn't wait on you if you went shopping, and other places people would come out of the buildings and start calling you names and things.. .and so you learned to avoid the city." Even local leaders of the M o r m o n faith were sometimes cruel. D u r i n g her senior year, Shiozawa and her husband experienced such cruelty first-hand: We went to the ward [LDS church congregation] where I'd been going to church, this was not on the campus, and they told us that we lived in a different area n o w so we had to go to another area to church. So we went there and the Bishop [ward leader] was waiting for us and refused us entry.... H e just met us and said you're not welcome here, and I knew w h y . . . . He'd been warned by the other ward that I was coming. So that ended our church affiliation until we left Provo.18

Such episodes, according to Shiozawa, were common in Provo at the time. The university itself, however, seemed to be a haven for the Nisei. In spite of occasional prejudices that surfaced within the community, most students felt very comfortable at BYU. As Shiozawa recalled, "I had no prejudices facing me at school....The school was wonderful! Oh, they [the people at BYU] were very good to me!" "I'll tell you what," George Funatake remarked, "it was great! Because it was war time and all, I think the population of the student body... was really a mixed bag. But I can tell you I enjoyed it." Seichi Watanabe summed up his B Y U days: "They were wonderful! Excellent! I was treated very well.... I make a substantial contribution every year because I feel very indebted to BYU." Like BYU, the University of Utah also decided to open its doors to the Nisei. On March 13, 1942, Leroy Cowles, president of the university, received a letter from the relocation council asking if students of Japanese ancestry would be admitted. 19 After some debate, Cowles and the Board of Regents drafted a reply stating that "nothing had been done officially to p r e v e n t A m e r i c a n - b o r n J a p a n e s e s t u d e n t s from r e g i s t e r i n g at t h e University" and that "students w h o present transcripts of credit from 17

Watanabe and Funatake interviews. Shiozawa interview. "Board of Regents minutes, May 29, 1942, p. 222, University of Utah Archives, Salt Lake City, in Jenny Nicholas, "Students and Soldiers: The University of Utah and World War II," unpublished essay in U of U archives. 18

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STUDENT RELOCATION PROGRAM

reputable institutions, together with recommendation as to their character and loyalty and who have sufficient money to pay their tuition and other expenses, will not be prohibited from registering here."20 But the U of U position was not without reservations. In the same letter, Cowles spoke of possible "future restrictions" that might be applied to the campus area, due to the "very important military concentrations here." He continued: "We do not encourage [Nisei students] to come as we have no way of determining what the future may bring. It might happen that they would be requested to move on from here....We carry no responsi- University of Utah president bility for what may be done if this whole area Leroy Cowles. is declared a restricted zone as is the western coast." H e also spoke of how the university was "not in the position to furnish employment or free scholarships to such students, and they likewise will be subject to the non-resident fee."21 Despite administrative concerns, applications from the Nisei immediately began to pour in by the hundreds, and many were admitted. Before the end of the year, the university had sixty-eight registered Japanese Americans. They had also received 270 applications for winter quarter and had accepted sixty-five.22 In fact, by 1943 the University of Utah had more registered Nisei students than any other institution of higher learning in the nation. Although the administration was likely unaware of it at the time, the school was the only university in the United States with more than one hundred Japanese American students in attendance, enrollment having peaked at 127 that year.23 Before the school reached its 1943 peak in Japanese American enrollment, however, some university officials began to grow a little nervous, especially when problems over student housing arose. Toward the end of 1942, Elmer R. Smith, professor of anthropology and official advisor to the Nisei, noted that a number of Japanese students lived in boardinghouses or rented rooms that belonged to local families. He feared that the area would reach a saturation point if the number of Nisei students continued to increase. He reported to the board that "attitudes in the community, a

20 Leroy E. Cowles papers, accn no. 23, box 1, fldr 33, University of Utah Archives, Salt Lake City, quoted in Mark Wiesenberg, "Japanese-American Students and the University of Utah" (1997), unpublished essay in U of U Archives. 21 Ibid. 22 Board of Regents minutes, May 29,1942, quoted in Wiesenberg, "Japanese-American Students." 23 O'Brien, The College Nisei, appendix.

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recent survey showed, may be soon of such negative proportions as to make a very large number of [Nisei] students a hindrance to their welfare as well as bringing various problems to a head at the University." Based on Professor Smith's recommendations, the Board decided to limit the number of Japanese American students to 150 at any given time.24 Indeed, the Salt Lake community exhibited "negative attitudes" toward the Japanese American students. Locals spoke out through the media and in letters to President Cowles. In May 1942 an editorial in the Utah Chronicle erroneously—and bigotedly—reported that Nisei transferees from out of state did not have to pay non-resident fees: "Dr. Sproul declares that we ought to take Japanese students free of charge, which is just as if a man next door demanded that we leave our garden gate open so that he could dump his unwanted and unneeded material on our front lawn." T h e author concluded that "the University of Utah would be swamped by Japanese students taking advantage of this free program. Why should the bad boy be given a quarter after having been spanked for his behavior[?]" 25 Following the article's publication, rumors concerning the Nisei students proliferated. In an attempt to dispel false information, President Cowles answered mail, published articles, and delivered speeches. To the Salt Lake Rotary Club in May of 1943, he asserted, "Rumors are to the effect that 350 Japanese are on the university campus receiving free tuition. The truth is there now are 125 persons of Japanese ancestry on the campus. Some 25 are native Utahns." 26 Then, in an article in the Utah Chronicle, he defended the Nisei by stating that "several of [the Japanese students] are exceptionally bright and the 125 have a higher general intelligence than the average of all students at the University."27 Thus, Cowles did much to temper a potentially volatile situation. But the controversies surrounding the Nisei students at the U of U made up only a small part of their overall experience. Despite challenges, they gained wide acceptance into the university community. In one way, the Nisei were considered among the most patriotic students on campus. They actively participated in war stamp and bond sales, for example, and sold more than their quota in the month of March 1943. In fact, they 24 Cowles papers, accn no. 23, box 1, fldr 13, quoted in Nicholas, "Students and Soldiers." See also Douglas Hardy, "Caucasian Attitudes toward Japanese in Metropolitan Salt Lake City" (Master's thesis, University of Utah, 1946). Hardy studied under Elmer Smith, and the "recent survey" spoken of may be linked to the statistics cited in Hardy's thesis. Statistics indicate that during the war years, the number of enrolled Nisei students at the U of U never did exceed 127. After 1943, as greater numbers of colleges and universities throughout the nation began to participate in the Student Relocation Program, the Nisei tended to spread out. See O'Brien, The College Nisei, appendix. 25 Utah Chronicle, May 7, 1942, quoted in Nicholas, "Students and Soldiers." Existing documents suggest that Cowles never "proposed" any kind of tuition waiver. His statement on page 11 makes it clear that, from the beginning, he and the board decided that "the Nisei would be subject to the non-resident fee." It appears that the author of this editorial based his remarks on false information. 26 Salt Lake Tribune, May 26,1943, quoted in Wiesenberg, "Japanese-American Students." 27 Utah Chronicle, May 26, 1943, quoted in Nicholas, "Students and Soldiers." For a student response to local prejudice, see Utah Chronicle, May 14, 1942.

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purchased more bonds and stamps per stu- University of Utah player Arnold dent than the average non-Japanese student.28 Ferrin (22) passes the ball to O t h e r N i s e i involved t h e m s e l v e s in teammate Wat Mikasa during a extracurricular activities such as sporting pro- 1944 NCAA tournament game grams. O n e student in particular became against Dartmouth at Madison quite popular as a player for the U of U's Square Garden. N C A A championship basketball team in 1944. Wat Misaka occupied a very important position as a starting guard for the team. He went on to become a firstround draft pick of the N e w York Knicks and the first Asian-Pacific American to play in the NBA. 29 Other former Japanese American students testified of their acceptance into the university environment. Roy Ishihara enrolled from 1942 to early 1945. He and most of his family escaped mass confinement and moved from Los Angeles to Salt Lake City during the few months of voluntary evacuation in F e b r u a r y 1942. At t h e t i m e of the m o v e , he was a nineteen-year-old sophomore at Pepperdine University in Los Angeles. Having converted to the Baptist faith some years before, he was majoring 28 Leroy E. Cowles, University of Utah and World War II (Salt Lake City: Deseret News Press, 1949), quoted in Nicholas. 29 Ogden Standard Examiner, November 6,1999.

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in speech and English, with plans to attend a seminary to become a minister. Of transferring schools he recalled, "The University of Utah was one of the few universities at that time that would accept those of us of Japanese background.... Other universities said, 'No, we don't want Japs!' So I give them credit. There were a lot of Japanese Americans who attended the U of U at that time." According to Ishihara, the university provided a comfortable environment, and the Japanese felt secure on campus. With regard to the treatment that he and other Nisei students received, R o y stated, "At the University itself, they were open. I didn't have one incident of discrimination or discourtesy....They welcomed us as students. In fact, they went out of their way to be friendly to us."30 Kazuo Sato shared a similar view. The Sato family had been long-time residents of Ogden, Utah. In the late 1930s Sato left the state and began his college studies at the University ofWashington in Seattle. In anticipation of the danger ahead for the Nisei, and in an attempt to avoid forced evacuation, he decided to return to his home state and finish his senior year at the University of Utah early in 1942. O f the situation at the U of U he recalled, "In my case it was fine I got along pretty good. There was no animosity, no real concerns at all." With only a year left to graduate, Sato was a student at Utah through the first quarter of 1943. H e received his bachelor's degree in engineering. Due to his short stay on campus, he did not remember many specific experiences, but he continually insisted that "[The Nisei] had no problems at the university."31 There are specific reasons why the University of Utah became such a haven for the Nisei and one of the greatest contributors to the Student Relocation Program. In part, the efforts of both students and faculty made a difference. Of the few former Nisei students interviewed for this article, not one could recall even a moment of discrimination on the part of either group. Instead, they remembered how both students and faculty had gone out of their way to extend a welcome. Furthermore, as was the case at BYU, the LDS presence may have helped in creating an open environment. Even as a member of the Baptist community, Ishihara could not deny the LDS influence. "My experience with the U of U was real positive," he remarked, "and I attribute this to the M o r m o n group; they were very friendly. In fact, they would say that they knew what we were going through because their ancestors, the Mormons who came to Salt Lake City, they were discriminated against back in the Midwest."32 But more than anything, the success of the Student Relocation Program and the positive Nisei reception on campus resulted from the leadership of President Cowles and his fellow administrators. From the m o m e n t the ' Roy Ishihara, telephone interview by author, December 27, 1999; notes in possession of author. Kazuo Sato, telephone interview by author, December 27, 1999; notes in possession of author. Ishihara interview.

14


STUDENT RELOCATION PROGRAM

doors were opened, the university accepted large numbers of Japanese American students and became the national leader in that regard during 1942. Then, when rumors and false information began to circulate around the community, President Cowles quickly came to the defense of Japanese American students.33 And yet, similar to the B Y U students, the U's Japanese American students encountered open hostility in the community. About a year into his studies, Roy Ishihara and a Baptist youth group of about thirty Nisei were making their way back from a Sunday afternoon outing to the Great Salt Lake. The return trip to town required that they "pass through a radio station," apparently an area of town that was regulated by the military. Certain restrictions applied to the area, including a curfew that forbade those of Japanese descent to go near the station after five o'clock in the evening. Conscious of the situation, the group left their outing in just enough time to make it through the zone before five o'clock. However, on the way, according to Ishihara, "a police officer approached us and said we will give you an escort to Salt Lake City.... We had plenty of time to get back, but he said, 'No, we will escort you.'"With that, the group proceeded, led by two officers. "As we neared the radio station," Ishihara continued, "the policemen stopped us in the middle of the restricted zone, and we waited there until past five o'clock...then they arrested us. Look in the headlines....They said,'Japs Arrested in the Curfew Zone!'" Fortunately for the group, the state attorney general and Senator Thomas both "went to bat" for them, and they were released after spending one night in jail. Outside of the university security blanket, then, things were not so secure for the Nisei. The campus environment at the U of U seemed to differ from the community, offering a world apart for the Nisei, a world in which they could freely pursue their interests. Given the fact that both BYU and the U of U made substantial contributions to the Student Relocation Program, it is surprising to learn that Utah State Agricultural College chose not to participate at all. Due to a paucity of documents, it is difficult to understand all of the reasons and circumstances behind the school's decision to exclude the Nisei. O n e reason might be connected with the fact that, as soon after Pearl Harbor as the second week of December 1941, the federal government informed the school that its facilities would most likely be utilized for military training. At the January 1942 board of trustees meeting, the board gave authorization to "accept quotas of trainees from government agencies in various

33 Cowles and members of the board retrospectively recognized their contributions to student relocation as one of the highlights of their careers. Such recognition can be seen in Cowles's treatment of the topic in his University of Utah and World War II and in the remarks of Sydney Angleman at Cowles's retirement dinner, when he praised the president and other administrators for their "freedom from prejudice" despite "severe criticism by the thoughtless, the prejudiced and the blind," quoted in Wiesenberg, "Japanese-American Students."

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UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

lines of national defense service." A few m o n t h s later, the N a v y D e p a r t m e n t and USAC negotiated an official contract whereby the school agreed to receive its first group of 100 students "for the training of radiomen on or about March 16."34 It was in that c o n t e x t t h a t E l m e r G. Peterson, president of the college, began to receive requests from the Student Relocation Council. Just a few days after the March contract was drafted, the council sent him a copy of the same letter it had sent to President Cowles of the University of Utah, asking if s t u d e n t s of J a p a n e s e d e s c e n t w o u l d be accepted at the institution. Before rendering a decision, President Peterson appealed to state officials. O n M a r c h 23 G o v e r n o r M a w responded that "no policy [had] as yet been adopted by Utah with respect to Japanese." H e assured t h e p r e s i d e n t t h a t t h e state "[would] not make recommendations as to whether the USAC should permit Japanese students of American parentage to register at gj| [the] school," and concluded that "whatever Zik1 rCiii ,r,fc z ! [he] and the board decided in the matter [would] be acceptable."35 Utah State Agricultural College president Elmer G. Peterson President Peterson took the issue to the board of trustees. A few days later, on March 28, Peterson drafted a reply to the council. H e noted, "After careful consideration of this matter our Board of Trustees decided, in view of our heavy program of defense training.. .it would not be advisable for us to accept such students at this time." The reply was short and to the point. And while Peterson expressed "great sympathy," the decision to exclude the Nisei, he insisted, was one of practicality.36 Because information from the board minutes and the presidential papers tell us nothing more about the administration's early response, we can only speculate as to the circumstances behind the school's decision. It seems that the principal concern for the administration was the military activities on campus. Perhaps school officials viewed the Nisei presence as a threat to

34 Logan Herald, December 11, 1941; USAC board of trustees minutes, vol. 7, January 24, March 28, 1942, Utah State University Archives, Logan, Utah. 35 USAC board of trustees minutes, March 28, 1942. 36 Ibid.; Peterson to Relocation Council, April 3, 1942.

16


STUDENT RELOCATION PROGRAM

national security. Yet similar concentrations of military personnel existed on the campuses of B Y U and the U of U, and those schools did not deem it necessary to exclude the Nisei. Maybe the administration anticipated increased military involvement in the future. But even so, it seems that the beginning of the war would have been the best time for the school to open its doors to as many Nisei as possible. Such had been the approach of President Cowles and the administration at the U of U At first they took in as many Nisei as they could; then, as circumstances developed, they found it advisable to at least set an enrollment cap. Assuming, however, that the USAC truly sympathized with the Japanese American students, how does one explain the administration's actions regarding the few Nisei students already in attendance at the time of Pearl Harbor? Following U.S. entry into the war, Peterson had released a statement advising students that it was in their best interest to "continue their studies uninterruptedly." 37 And yet, around the month of March, most likely right after the board had established its policy with regard to Japanese American transfer students, the four or five Nisei then enrolled at the USAC were asked to leave. Seichi Watanabe was of these students. He began his studies at Utah State in 1941 and was approaching the end of his freshman year at the time of Pearl Harbor. Although there had been talk of on-campus changes before the year ended, he and about four other Japanese Americans returned to school for the first quarter of 1942, logically following the president's advice to continue with their studies. N o t long thereafter, each student received a letter from President Peterson stating that, at the completion of the current term, they would no longer be welcomed back to the school.38 According to Watanabe, the request provided no explanation, and neither he nor any of the others sought one. In fact, throughout his life he assumed that the school's decision had been the direct result of a mandate from the state. "I didn't know," he explained, "if Governor Maw decreed that Japanese Americans not be allowed to attend the state institutions, or if it was the legislature." He further assumed that the same restrictions had been established at the U of U "My understanding was when I was asked to leave the college, that the same applied to Japanese American students at the University of Utah, so I didn't try to contact the school." Seichi then attempted to travel east to continue his studies, but he was refused a ticket at the Ogden railway station, and the stationmaster informed him that he could not travel east without FBI clearance. In a "last-ditch effort," he took the train from Ogden to Provo to inquire into the situation at BYU. H e recalled, "President Harris welcomed me with open arms. His exact words

37 38

Logan Herald, December 11, 1941. Watanabe interview.

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UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

to me were, T hope you bring five hundred just like you; I will gladly accept them all.'"39 The reasons behind the decision to ban enrolled Japanese American students are unclear. Nothing in the minutes of the board or in the presidential papers suggests any kind of discussion of the matter. Watanabe testified that the letter he received had been written by President Peterson, but that did not mean Peterson was solely responsible for the decision. Moreover, the situation received no attention from the media. Even the USAC school newspaper failed to provide coverage. But the case was not yet closed. Before the end of 1942, questions regarding the USAC policy resurfaced. O n October 14, President Peterson received a letter from John Provinse of the War Relocation Authority, who wrote, "We are pleased to be able to inform you that your institution has been approved by both the War and Navy Departments for purposes of student relocation. This means that you may proceed with the admission of Japanese-American students who are now at assembly centers or at relocation centers with the complete assurance that all necessary governmental sanction has been obtained." Apparently, the letter persuaded Peterson to reconsider the matter. H e approached the board again and suggested that "it be the policy of the College to accept the [Provinse] recommendation." It seemed, for a time, that the school's doors would be opened to the Nisei.40 But whether or not the administration came to any definite conclusions is difficult to tell. The minutes of the subsequent board meeting reflected no discussion of the Provinse letter or of the Japanese American students in general. In fact, the Nisei question did not appear in the board minutes at all throughout the remainder of the war. At the same time, attendance records continued to show that students of Japanese background were not being accepted into the school. It seems the issue was either forgotten or the board minutes remained incomplete. Only correspondence in the presidential papers offers an explanation as to why the policy remained unchanged. O n December 11, 1942, Peterson received another letter from the War Relocation Authority: This is to inform you that although the War Department gave its approval for [purposes of relocation of Japanese American students], on August 26, 1942, the institution has not been cleared by the Navy Department. The misunderstanding arises from the fact that the name of this school was inadvertently included on a list of 259 approved institutions sent by this office to the National Student Relocation Council. We regret any inconvenience that this may have caused you. 41

39 Needless to say, Watanabe was shocked when he learned that the University of Utah had opened its doors to the Nisei from the outset. "All these years I didn't know that," he exclaimed during an interview with the author. "I would have gone to the U of U had I known that." 40 E. G. Peterson papers, Record Group 3.1/6-2, box 204, fldr 8, Utah State University Archives. 41 Ibid.


STUDENT RELOCATION PROGRAM

Although the letter offers a partial explanation for the unchanged policy, it does not explain why the issue apparently was not discussed by the board. Perhaps President Peterson had been made aware of the relocation council's "mistake" before receiving the above letter. Such knowledge would have rendered unnecessary the discussion of the Provinse letter. Or, perhaps the board had made the decision to admit the Nisei, and the discussion was simply excluded from the minutes. Whatever the case, a lack of available information allows for speculation only. Matters certainly became simpler for the administration after it received the December letter from the War Department. The navy, the same group with whom the school had negotiated its early contract, had the final say regarding the conditions on campus. It became apparent in the following weeks exactly why the navy had intervened. In January 1943 the school was assigned "to give academic training to and provide housing and feeding for one thousand Army Air Forces trainees." 42 T h e military, therefore, increased its use of USAC facilities, negating all chances for the institution to accept Nisei students. The school eventually became one of thirteen colleges in the western United States, and the only one in Utah, which was placed on a governmental list of institutions considered "important to the war effort" by the War Department. The school remained on that list until close to the end of the war.43 Thus, the story behind Utah State's decision to close its doors to collegeb o u n d Nisei is difficult to assess. T h e initial policy to bar Japanese American transfers is questionable. Moreover, the decision to expel those few Nisei students already enrolled at the school at the time of Pearl Harbor seems to have been unnecessary and uncalled for. It might be easy to place the burden of responsibility squarely on the shoulders of President Peterson and the administration. But to do so would be unfair, since a lack of information renders impossible the formulation of any definite conclusions. The evidence suggests that the institution would have accepted students of Japanese ancestry had the navy not intervened. Indeed, the president had urged adoption of the recommendations set forth in the Provinse letter in his communications with the board. Moreover, the school went on to provide classes at the branch college in Cedar City (a small community in the southern part of the state), which they encouraged many Nisei students to attend, especially those from the Topaz relocation camp. In a letter to Edward Marks in January 1943, Peterson noted the final arrangements for initiating the program at the branch college and stated, "I regret that the main campus of Utah State Agricultural College at Logan has not yet received Navy Department approval."44 It appears that Utah State was at

:

Ibid. ' Taylor, Price of Prejudice, 18. 1 E. G. Peterson papers, Record Group 3.1/6.2, box 204, fldr 8.

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UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

least on the path to opening its doors to the Japanese American students. Thus, the experiences of BYU, the U of U, and the USAC with regard to the Student Relocation Program offer some interesting insights into Utah's reception of Japanese Americans during World War II. A unique world came to life on the campuses of Brigham Young University and the University of Utah. A m o n g the most active program participants, both schools served as examples of the success of student relocation and its impact for good on the lives of thousands of Japanese American students. Certain factors were important in creating a favorable atmosphere. The influence of religion, in this case Mormonism, may have helped to generate an open environment. The friendly attitudes of students and faculty toward the Nisei also played a role. Finally, the courage and integrity of the administrations, particularly the university presidents, were especially significant. Still, the very different experience of Utah State Agricultural College is equally insightful. Like many institutions throughout the nation, it did not open its doors to the Nisei. Although the reasons behind that decision are unclear, it is likely that military considerations simply overrode all other factors in shaping institutional policy. The level of defense training on campus, as dictated by the navy, emerged as one of the school's most important concerns throughout the war—so important that even the existence of a few Japanese American students on campus was considered threatening. As Leonard Arrington noted, Utah's reception of Japanese Americans during World War II was indeed ambiguous. His assessment applies to the experiences of Utah schools. In some ways, they offered an exceptional environment wherein the Nisei could escape the turmoil of a hypocritical society; in others, they simply reflected the harsh "realities" of a nation at war.

20


The Utah Writers' Project and Writing of Utah: A Guide to the State By RICHARD L. SAUNDERS

T

he 1930s are almost defined by the economic recovery programs of the Roosevelt administration. Midway into the national recovery process, in 1935, a sliver of relief work was budgeted to put unemployed writers, researchers, and office workers into meaningful employment. The Federal Writers'Project (FWP) employed less than 1 percent of the nation's public relief rolls—and garnered criticism inversely proportional to its size. To politicians, the FWP was merely one more strategy to put people into paying work; anything actually produced was a side benefit. To those who actually led the work, however, it represented an opportunity to generate literary monuments that would stand alongside the parks, trails, and watercourse improvements built by other relief projects. Drawing upon a European tourist tradition, the Baedeker guidebooks, the FWP envisioned its crowning contribution j Utah Writers'Project director and A u r to American culture as a series or guidebooks, the American Guide Series, which Utah guide editor Dale Morgan would describe the country geographically, autographs a copy for Governor historically, and culturally 1 Herbert Maw. Richard L. Saunders is the curator of Special Collections at the University ofTennesee at Martin. His most recent book is Printing in Deseret; currently he is at work on a biography of Dale Morgan. 1 Jerre Mangione, The Dream and the DeahThe Federal Writers' Project, 1935—1943 (2d ed.; Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1983), 46-49. The FWP also produced several regional and city guides, but the guides for the forty-eight states and the territories of Puerto Rico, Alaska, and Hawaii were the main focus. The widespread criticism of the FWP in the conservative press is considered in detail in Mangione's book.

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D e s p i t e p r o t e s t s from t h o s e in U t a h Utah's FWP director Maurice opposed to public relief work of any sort, a Howe at a pioneer grave near central state office of the Federal Writers' Independence Rock, c. 1937. Project was established in O g d e n late in 1935. Maurice L. Howe, a graduate of the University of Utah and staff writer for the Ogden Standard Examiner, was recruited to establish and supervise twin divisions, the Writers' Project (WP) itself and the Historical Records Survey (HRS). 2 The Writers' Project was charged with descriptive writing and editorial work, while the Historical Records Survey was a documentary agency established to catalogue public and social records in the state, such as the contents of county courthouse vaults. In 1936 national policy split the H R S from the W P and established the H R S as an independent research and resources agency under Federal One, the overarching funding structure for relief projects. During its seven-year operation, the FWP in Utah researched and wrote histories of the U.S. Forest Service in the state, a history of grazing, newspaper and magazine articles on local culture and history, radio programs, and all of its own publicity materials and campaigns. Nevertheless, from 1935 until publication of a guidebook 2 Howe began work in November 1935, but the appointment was not made official until the beginning of the next year; Robert Greenwell to Maurice L. Howe, January 1, 1936, Dale L. Morgan papers, Bancroft Library, microfilm reel 26, frame 1824. Hereafter, citations of the Morgan papers are made by reel and frame number of the 1989 microfilming, as "26:1824." Howe functionally directed both offices until 1939. Much of his correspondence as head of and consultant to the Utah project is now in Series 7 of the Dale L. Morgan papers, as Morgan inherited Howe's correspondence at the latter's untimely death in 1945. These are found on reels 26-28. Other arts projects were established in Utah at the same time as the FWP, including the Theater Project, Art Project (which designed the covers for H R S publications), Sewing Project, and Music Project. All fall beyond the scope of this article; n o n e has been considered historically.

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in 1941, the primary goal of Utah's F W P (and its successor, the Utah Writers' Project) was the creation of a manuscript for the American Guide Series. As project director and editor, Maurice Howe faced the daunting task of generating usable research files and beginning to compile the guidebook at the same time that the national office was trying first to decide and then to communicate what the Writers' Project would do and how its work should be done. To make a reasonable beginning, Howe dispatched his people to work in several directions. Some of his twenty- to thirty-member H R S staff began by generating survey forms for workers (usually no more than two in a county; some counties had no workers) to use in inventories and descriptions of county records. Others began compiling bibliographies of published works that contained data on specific counties or transcribing or abstracting significant works and dividing the transcripts into topical files. Almost as soon as the project office was established in O g d e n , the W r i t e r s ' Project staff set to work outlining potential sections of the guidebook. Within a m o n t h , half a dozen were completed and filed. Writing effort soon shifted toward expanding outlines into drafts. The staff also began a preliminary page-length estimate and layout on the Utah guidebook. In May 1936 they completed a page-makeup dummy and a full-scale outline allotting space for essays and specifying the number and placement of illustrations, and they dispatched these to the national office. The dummy was followed in July by preliminary drafts of several sections for the forthcoming volume. 3 While work progressed on the narrative sections of the forthcoming guide, a handful of other workers were dispatched throughout the state to drive county roads and highways. They recorded mileage between intersections, listed sites of historic or scenic value along roadways, noted driving conditions and resources a traveler might need, and weighed the merits of one route over another. Their reports, edited and presented neatly in sequence, eventually resulted in a detailed set of in-state road tours covering every nook and cranny of the state and occupying nearly half the completed guidebook. The W P staff was comparatively small in any one state, but each project employed dozens of people with a wide range of skills (and competence levels) who occasionally demonstrated the will to work at cross purposes. 4 The writing process was hampered by three major flaws foreseen by FWP officials at the inception of the program: widely diverse abilities, interests, and writing styles of those employed; staff turnover; and the stylistic choppiness that inevitably resulted from the first two. The solution to these 3

Outlines for "Manufacturing and Industry," "Transportation," and "Hotels" may be found in Morgan papers, 26:1796, 1802, 1811; "Prehistoric Inhabitants of Utah" was dispatched to Washington as early as June 10,1936; seeWPA papers,"Final Copy," 80, Utah State Historical Society, Salt Lake City (USHS). 4 Mangione, Dream and the Deal, chapter 4.

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problems had been to centralize the review and approval processes for anything intended for publication. Central review fostered stylistic coherence, but the turnaround for manuscripts sent to the Washington office became a chronic problem almost immediately. The delays were compounded by director Henry Alsberg's desire to have the final editorial approval on everything the country produced. A guidebook section was first drafted, edited, corrected, and retyped at the state office before carbons were distributed to outside reviewers and forwarded to the national office. Here, each section was reviewed, edited for language and theme, forwarded to director Alsberg for the same process, and then returned to the state office—theoretically. In reality, because of the veritable avalanche of material pouring in from the state offices, the Washington office became a bottleneck for drafts at all different stages of approval. State materials risked loss within the cogs of bureaucracy and Alsberg's frenetically paced organizational style.5 Through 1936 and halfway through 1937, the Ogden office forwarded draft chapters eastward for review and approval as quickly as they could be written. But since fifty other states and territories and several cities were doing the same, Utah's material only added to an unmanageable deluge of manuscripts. Being a small western state, Utah did not rank high on the national priority list. The Washington staff largely ignored its submissions, and drafts from Utah eventually eddied into the quiet backwaters of file drawers. Unaware of this, the F W P office staff back in O g d e n busily continued compiling data, organizing research files, and drafting essays. The desire for process and stylistic similarity among the guides was frustrated further by the tangle of conflicting instructions, formats, outlines, and forms that spun out of the national O&LCQ like a spider's web. It was quite possible for a state office to submit a chapter and have it returned "approved with minor corrections" in its first stage of review—and then to have the w h o l e c o r r e c t e d draft r e j e c t e d as u n s u i t a b l e w h e n it was resubmitted a month later. For instance, one particular set of Utah tours was submitted in February 1938. The manuscript lay untouched in the D C . files until August, when it was returned without editorial comment; then, the following January, it was discarded as unacceptable at Washington's insistence.6 While Howe busied his staff in Utah, the first volume of the American Guide Series was issued. It was not, as had been planned, the Washington, D.C., volume. The Idaho FWP director, novelist Vardis Fisher, had ignored directives and regulations, written the text mostly himself, offered the manuscript to a commercial publisher (Caxton Press), and gotten the Idaho guide into print in early 1937. This was not merely an issue over w h o was able to release the symbolic first book. By federal law, government publica5 Mangione, Dream and the Deal, 13-14. Maurice Howe commented privately on Alsberg, calling him "a punk [i.e., poor] executive and marvelously evasive"; Maurice Howe to Darrell Greenwell, Morgan papers, 27:164. 6 Howe to Darrell Greenwell, August 25,1939, Morgan papers, 27:165.

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UTAH WRITERS' PROJECT

tions were to be printed by the Government Printing Office and distributed at nominal charge. This regulation had always been a sticking point in the plans for the American Guide Series. Fisher had avoided the issue by having the Idaho secretary of state sponsor publication of the guide. After discussing it among the staff and tweaking FWP regulations to create a loophole, Alsberg and the Washington office instructed other projects to follow suit. State offices were to find nominal public sponsors for the guidebooks from within the state. This move meant that the guidebooks would not be strictly federal relief projects, and thus they could avoid the federal printing restriction. 7 Rather than pitch state guidebook manuscripts to publishers individually, as Fisher had done, Alsberg hit upon a plan for national publishers to bid on state guide manuscripts grouped in small lots. In this way, states like the Dakotas would have the same opportunities for quality manufacturing and national distribution that the N e w York or Massachusetts guides would. Utah's guidebook wound up, along with those from Arizona, Arkansas, California, Colorado, Louisiana, Mississippi, N e w Mexico, and Texas, in the hands of Hastings House of N e w York.8 In Utah, the search for a state sponsor, a painful and drawn-out process, was the responsibility of Writers' Project editor Charles Madsen, one of Howe's original tour-writing crew and the manager of daily activity in the W P office. Madsen presented the sponsorship plan to the Ogden and Salt Lake City chambers of commerce, receiving a good deal of excited interest, but neither body was in a position to advance sponsorship money. H e then approached the State R o a d Commission and the Utah State Historical Society, but their refusals also cited money as the issue. Madsen even floated the idea of distributing production costs among local printers and publishers, and he asked for a cost estimate from printer and amateur historian Charles Kelly at the Western Printing Company. "All feeling favorable to Guide," noted an internal publishing report for early 1937, "but no funds." Potential distribution of the as-yet-unpublished guidebook was about as encouraging. Howe personally wrote to every store in the state that carried books. Only six responded that they would be interested in carrying such a volume. 9 At the end of June 1938 Maurice Howe was summoned to Washington and appointed to the Federal Writers' Project central editorial staff. But he retained directorship of the Utah project, supervising the writing and editorial work by correspondence until J u n e 1939. H o w e was t h e n reassigned, and Utah's H R S and W P offices became independent projects 7

Mangione, Dream and the Deal, 202-207, 220-22. The title page of the Idaho guide was dated 1936, but the volume was actually published the following year. 8 Mangione, Dream and the Deal, 230—32. 9 "Publications Report," 1937, Morgan papers, 26:1861; Howe to Morgan, May 13, 1941, Morgan papers, 26:879.

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UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

with separate management. Law student Dee Bramwell was appointed to head the Utah Charles Madsen, on the left, at the W-Bar-L Ranch, between Mexican H R S , and Charles Madsen became head of the Writers' Project. Because of his personal Hat and Bluff, San Juan County, c interest in the research and activities in Utah, 1936. Also in the photo, from left Howe remained connected as an official (but to right, are Mr. and Mrs. Clarence unpaid) project consultant and advisor.10 Lee, Robert Clark Tyler, and Buck Utah's leadership change was symptomatic of the r e c u r r i n g c h a l l e n g e that p l a g u e d Lee. research and writing staffs nationwide. Since the Writers' Project was a relief program, turnover in the project staffs was steady, even among the members not on relief, due both to migration into better paying private-sector jobs and to regulations limiting the time a worker was allowed to remain in a relief position. Beyond a few key "noncertified" positions (hirees n o t on w o r k relief, some of w h o m had part-time appointments) both the H R S a n d W P were required to put into service anyone who was sent them—not always to the best effect. The Utah project faced a specific challenge in Howe's replacement. Charles Madsen had been involved with the forthcoming guide almost since the beginning, yet with the loosening of Howe's direction, work on the Utah guidebook ground quickly into low gear. Madsen was well-respected for his ability to create the tours that would go into the guide, but as an administrator he cloaked himself and entangled his staff in petty office politics. Wittingly or unwittingly, Madsen played staff members against each other, creating an atmosphere in which it was difficult for workers to trust each other Tour writer and Utah guide editor

10

Robert Slover, Circular Letter no. 7, June 2, 1939, Morgan papers, 27:64; Charles Madsen to Hugh O'NeilJuly 2, 1938, Morgan papers, 26:1988.

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UTAH WRITERS' PROJECT

sufficiently to draft, critique, and edit work productively.11 Similar situations that frustrated W P work in other locations were addressed from the central office, but, intent on pushing guidebooks to completion in other states, the central FWP office seemed not to notice these issues in Utah. By the fall of 1938, many of the state guides were at the manufacturing stage. The national office at last realized that it should be concerned about the Utah volume, and the regional and state supervisors were finally willing to admit that, despite two and a half years of work, little had actually been accomplished. To stimulate Utah's writing process (and evidently unaware of the drafts already buried in their own files), a visiting member of the national staff solicited Vardis Fisher, head of the Idaho Writers' Project, to push out an acceptable guidebook manuscript for Utah. 12 In Washington, Maurice H o w e forcibly pried from the grip of the national office the material that Utah's project had submitted to date and returned it to Salt Lake City. Much of it had been "in review" for more than a year and was still in editorial limbo. Vardis Fisher made a trip from Boise to Salt Lake City in April 1939 to find near-chaos among the assembled drafts. The first batch of tours and descriptive essays he discovered to be incomplete. Most had notes like "See Madsen for this material" and "This to be added later" sprinkled liberally throughout the pages. Checking randomly a second, third, and fourth batch, he discovered that incompletions were not limited to discrete sections of the drafts; most or all were incomplete and, with isolated exceptions, in no condition to be edited for publishable copy.13 Several months later, in mid-August, the national reviewer, a woman cited only as "Mrs. Isham," again came West unannounced and demanded from Fisher an assessment of the Utah project. H e was not complimentary. Yes, drafts were still incomplete, but the editor's cooperation had been difficult for him to secure. Having worked with the Utah essays since spring and having been in the Utah offices for several weeks, Fisher laid primary responsibility for Utah's lack of headway squarely on state editor Madsen, who had regarded Fisher's appointment as a personal affront. "I do not think it reasonable to expect even an efficient staff here to get the Utah book ready before the first of the year," Fisher reported. "There's simply too much to be done yet. Too much copy is in the rough." H e was giving up. Both the FWP official and state WPA administrator Darrell Greenwell, who had disliked the Writers' Project from the first, asked if Fisher knew of

"See statements about Madsen by office workers in Morgan papers, 27:1100-112. Comments on Madsen's feuds are discussed in Fisher to Howe, August 17, 1939, 27:146; Fisher to Howe, August 20, 1939, 27:152; Howe to Greenwell, August 25, 1939, 27:165; Fisher to Greenwell, August 29, 1939, 27:169; Fisher to Howe, October 18,1938, 26:2057. 12 Mangione, Dream and the Deal, 201-208; Dee Bramwell to Dale L. Morgan, August 15, 1939, Morgan papers, 27:142;Vardis Fisher to Howe and Fisher to Henry Alsberg, October 18, 1938, Morgan papers, 26: 2057, 2052; Salt Lake Tribune, August 30,1939. 13 Fisher to Howe, August 17, 1939, Morgan papers, 27:146.

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someone who would be a better director. He did not. 1 4 In a private letter to Howe written a few days later, Fisher reported the rounds of intrigues and posturing ambitions that plagued the Utah W P office and asked, "Do you know of anyone who could whip the book out? First thing you know G[reenwell] will be closing this project."15 Greenwell, k n o w i n g that H o w e himself was caught in the flux of a shakeup in Washington and the dismissal of Federal Writers' Project head H e n r y Alsberg, also wrote to Howe suggesting he return to Salt Lake City to again head the Utah project. Howe responded with encouragement, noting that Fisher could write well but tended to overreact. Admittedly, Madsen was not a careful editor, but, Howe told Greenwell, he had earned a solid reputation with the national office for consistently generating good tour materials. H e had done a great deal of work and should be allowed to finish the task. Howe did welcome Greenwell's suggestion that a new supervisor be found.16 Fisher submitted his formal report on the status of the Utah guidebook, including estimates on the time needed to complete various parts, on August 29, 1939. In the report Fisher also suggested that in order to streamline the process the Ogden office be closed and that relief positions located elsewhere in the state be relocated in Salt Lake City. H e proposed that the Utah W P secure the services of Montana's tour editor and suggested hiring an office manager to take managerial responsibilities out of Madsen s hands, allowing him to concentrate on writing. Both suggestions were veiled swipes at Madsen. Fisher now said he saw no reason that a complete guidebook manuscript could not be approved by January 1940.17 Though the offices were consolidated a year later, most of his recommendations were ignored. In addition, the Utah office was working with larger complications looming overhead. National Writers' Project director Henry Alsberg had been dismissed in May. In addition to the uproar connected with this firing, everyone had been distracted by congressional wrangling over Congress's authorization for the national project and the potential fallout if the FWP was left without funding. Through the late spring and into the summer of 1939, the work pace in Utah had lagged appreciably as the H R S in Ogden and the W P in Salt Lake City marked time, working on tasks and files that could be completed quickly and dropped if the funding plug were actually pulled. Writing on the Utah guide was slowed dramatically or not done at all. Francis Harrington, the national relief-project administrator, even ordered offices closed nationwide after June 30 (the last funded day) until the vote 14 Fisher to Howe, August 17, 1939, Morgan papers, 27:146; Fisher to Darrell Greenwell, August 27, 1939, Morgan papers, 27:169. 15 Vardis Fisher to Maurice Howe, August 17,1939, Morgan papers, 27:146. 16 Greenwell to Howe, August 22, 1939, Morgan papers, 27:159; Howe to Greenwell, August 25, 1939, Morgan papers, 27:164. 17 Fisher to Greenwell, August 29, 1939, Morgan papers, 27:169.

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on the pending Relief Bill resolved the final status of Federal One. 18 Writers' Project funding survived the congressional vote tally, but the compromise bill that passed required several drastic, immediate changes. First, the idea of guidebook sponsorship was expanded to apply to the state projects as a whole. Some states had already published their guidebooks and closed their offices, but the Writers' Project offices still functioning were required to obtain partial support from sponsoring bodies within their respective states. In Utah, Charles Madsen made hasty arrangements to slide the Writers' Project under the rubric of the Utah Institute of Fine Arts (UIFA), the state cultural resources office. This provided the state's orphan guidebook with a parent at last (a co-sponsor was later found in the Salt Lake County Commission). A second funding condition was that, rather than merely accumulating topical research files, each office must secure sponsors willing to underwrite some of the costs of the research and distribution of individual writing projects. Writers' Project work would center on what could be funded. The legislation also transferred administration from the national level to the states themselves, a process that recreated the various state W P offices as federally subsidized research-for-hire units.19 Utah's guidebook, conducted under the UIFA sponsorship, became merely one of several large-scale projects envisioned by the Utah WP, among which were a major history of grazing in the West (completed but never published) and a history of the Forest Service, which became entangled in sponsorship negotiations and was aborted before writing was begun.20 O n the same day that Fisher dated his report, the Utah Institute of Fine Arts signed a lease on the old Elks Building at 59 So. State Street in Salt Lake City, intending to renovate it as a community arts center and offices for the Utah Writers' Project. Within the week, the project sponsorships that the staff had scrambled to draw together were judged sufficient to merit continued federal support, and President Roosevelt signed the necessary papers. In preparation for the move to the Elks Building, Madsen traveled to Ogden in mid-September to notify the staff that offices would be centralized in Salt Lake City. By the last months of 1939, the Ogden office of the Utah Writers' Project had closed.21 The new Utah Writers' Project was now reasonably secure, and attention returned to the flagging state guidebook. Under renewed pressure from 18

Fisher to Howe, June 2, 1939, Morgan papers, 27:65; O'Neil to Morgan, June 24, 1939, Morgan papers, 27:86; Bramwell, Circular Letter No. 10, June 30, 1939, Morgan papers, 27:89; Mangione, Dream and the Deal, 13-16, 329-30. 19 Mangione, Dream and the Deal, 20—21, 330. 20 Smaller projects included publication of Provo: Pioneer Mormon City and a book collecting the texts from state historical markers titled Utah's Story. A "dictionary of Utah altitudes" nearly made it to press with University of Utah sponsorship, as did a Salt Lake City almanac with help from the county. One project that was discussed but never got off the ground was a history of Utah's mining industry; another was a history of the Great Salt Lake. Dale Morgan later wrote such a book privately. 21 Salt Lake Tribune, August 29, September 6, 1939; Madsen to Howe, September 12, 1939, Morgan papers, 27:192; Howe to Morgan, October 11, 1939, Morgan papers, 26:575.

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state and national administrations, Madsen began pushing his writing and editorial staff to produce. The pressure backfired badly. Staff members, still stressed by internal dissension, were now also suspicious of their supervisor, and they accomplished little useful editorial work. By the third week of September, Madsen knew he needed help, and he quietly offered H R S historian and editor Dale L. Morgan a j o b on the Writers' Project staff. Morgan was close to beginning a manuscript on the State of Deseret that he wanted to write and was putting out H R S county historical sketches with regularity. His attention had been drawn to Farrar & Rinehart's Rivers of America Series as well. In fact, on the first of October he wrote the firm proposing a volume on the Humboldt River, and he was still writing to advertising firms throughout California seeking permanent employment. With his capacity for writing already strained by what he wanted to do, Morgan declined the offer, feeling that he could not take on another large-scale writing or editorial project like the Utah guidebook. 22 With Fisher gone and Madsen still playing office politics, the Utah Writers' Project was left with an incomplete guidebook manuscript, a writing staff almost paralyzed by intrigues, and an editor in a quandary over precisely how to proceed. Impatient, the national office moved preemptively and informed the Utah office in December 1939 that a consulting editor was being dispatched from Washington. N o t k n o w i n g quite what to expect, in late January Madsen asked Morgan to at least review and critique the historical essay, w h i c h had already b e e n t h r o u g h o n e r o u n d of approvals. Morgan agreed. After several days with the material, though he felt that on the whole the work was "ably written," he returned a devastating factual critique. His catalogue of factual errors or faulty interpretations ran to thirteen closely-typed pages. "My principle [sic] objection," Morgan wrote to Howe, a close friend, "is that the [guidebook's] emphasis lies too greatly on event, on political history, and too little on the people." 23 Less than two weeks later, national W r i t e r s ' Project editor Darel McConkey arrived in Salt Lake City and set about reviewing drafts and discussing with the staff what yet needed to be done. Like Vardis Fisher months before, M c C o n k e y was not impressed with the U t a h Writers' Project's collection of written material, and he confronted Charles Madsen about the state of the office and the project. Earlier in Washington, Howe had quietly suggested that McConkey get Dale Morgan involved with the guide, or at least the historical essays. Against this backdrop, out of Madsen and McConkey's meeting came an idea to borrow rather than to draft Morgan away from the H R S . Within days, McConkey was camped in WPA director Darrell Greenwell's office insisting that Morgan's services were required if the guidebook project was to be salvaged at all. Greenwell 22 C. C.Anderson to Morgan, [July 1940], Morgan papers, 27:1101; Morgan to Howe, September 26, 1939, Morgan papers, 26:245. 23 Morgan to Howe, January 24, 1940, Morgan papers, 8:915 and 27:303.

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tentatively agreed and summoned Dee Bramwell. The H R S head scrambled to plead his own case. His arguments were identical to Madsen s, namely that "without [Morgan] the H.R.S. would be behind the 8 ball." After some discussion, Bramwell returned with a compromise proposal to lay before Morgan. Greenwell, Bramwell, and HRS editor Hugh O'Neil (who had been included in the discussions by this time) agreed that Morgan would work on both the Writers' Project and the Historical Records Survey. Since it fit within his own interest area, increased his salary, and gave him at last a genuine full-time job, Morgan agreed to the plan and began a new work schedule. In the mornings he worked for the Writers' Project as an editor for the state guidebook essays; the afternoons he devoted to the Historical Records Survey to complete work on the "State of Deseret" manuscript, an Ogden city history, and various historical essays for the county inventory volumes.24 Morgan's prodigious memory (and personal accumulation of duplicate transcript files) made the process functionally possible, but the time-sharing further complicated an already awkward arrangement. When Morgan and other H R S writers had transferred to the office in Salt Lake City, their voluminous research files had remained in the depopulated Ogden office. Writers would request specific subject files and the files would be transferred between Ogden and Salt Lake City on daily commuter trains. Morgan wrote to Howe that he began working on the text for the central essay, the state history, on or near the first of March 1940. But it was not long before Morgan's copious need for sources demonstrated h o w awkward the file-transfer arrangement was. His requests for file material from Ogden were so taxing that Greenwell finally acted on Fisher's earlier suggestion, had the cabinets shipped to Salt Lake City, and closed the Ogden office for good.25 While the rest of the W P staff worked furiously on converting field notes into tour manuscripts, Morgan pounded away on the state history. By the end of April he had an eighty-nine-page manuscript ready for review. He mailed carbons to Howe and McConkey and then dived back into the H R S compilation of a Carbon County bibliography, the Ogden city history, and several other small projects. While the Washington office's reviews of this and the guide's other main sections were in process, and before the inevitable round of corrections and emendations were begun, Morgan determined to make a research foray into Nevada to support his Humboldt River book.26 Morgan, Nevada native Dwight Jones, and another friend departed for their 24

Howe to Morgan, January 19, 1940, Morgan papers, 26:611; transcript of undated conversation in the hand of Dee Bramwell and perhaps Hugh O'Neil, Morgan papers, 27:738—43; Morgan to Howe, February 20, 1940, Morgan papers, 26:304. The last two projects were completed as "The State of Deseret," Utah Historical Quarterly 8 (1940): 65—239, and A History of Ogden (Ogden, U T : Ogden City Commission, 1940). 25 Morgan to Howe, April 6, 1940, Morgan papers, 26:313. 26 McConkey to Morgan, April 26, 1940, Morgan papers, 14:1318; Howe to Morgan, April 26, 1940, Morgan papers, 26:675.

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road trip on June 20. Morgan returned two weeks later to find McConkey finished with the essay and suggesting that it be cut extensively. There were other changes, as well. Having gotten the W P writing process moving in Utah, Darel McConkey was preparing to return to Washington. Before leaving, he lobbied intensely both the state and national offices to act on Fisher's earlier suggestion that the Utah Writers' Project be restructured. H u g h O'Neil of the H R S was one possibility for the directorship. O'Neil had been with the H R S almost since its beginning, and the national office considered him to be a competent editor and administrator, but O'Neil had seriously compromised the appearance of his objectivity at the state level by writing a negative article in the antiM o r m o n newspaper Light on Mormonism, published in Ohio. Morgan's personable style, coupled with an obviously gifted mind and an ability to push out a superior body of writing on short schedules had attracted attention from the state and national administrations. McConkey met little resistance when he suggested that the state appoint Morgan to the Writers' Project directorship and that the national office approve the appointment. The day after Morgan left for Nevada, Darel McConkey excitedly wrote to him that he was "IT!" McConkey went east, but not before seeing that a complete first draft of the guidebook manuscript was mailed to the national office ahead of him. Morgan assumed duties as the W P director and state guide editor on July 8, 1940. Despite his interpersonal style in the office, Charles Madsen had carried the project through some difficult straits. In acknowledgment of his hard work, former W P editor/director Madsen was kicked upstairs to a non-supervisory post in the WPA administration. 27 By the time Dale Morgan assumed the state editorship, Utah's guidebook was slated to become one of the last books issued in the American Guide Series, which finally gave it priority in Washington's review process. Morgan had about two weeks in July of 1940 to settle into his new position before the reviewed and corrected drafts that had been sitting in Washington office files for months (some of the tours, for years) finally arrived from the national editors. H e immediately divided the manuscript between his staff and set them to work on revisions. As general editor, he oversaw the revision process between July and September and was also responsible for cutting the manuscript to fit the estimated page count allowed by the guide's publication contract with Hastings House. H e was also thrown bodily into playing the state agency politics inherent in the cooperative sponsorships that had become the project's lifeblood. Morgan inherited one specific problem as well. The national office had r e j e c t e d t h e e n t i r e first draft of t h e guide's o p e n i n g essay, " T h e C o n t e m p o r a r y Scene," and Vardis Fisher's r e w r i t i n g as well. Darel McConkey had produced a revision when he was in the state himself, but 27 "The Mormon Communistic State," Light on Mormonism, July— Sept. 1938; McConkey to Morgan, June 21, 1940, Morgan papers, 14:1319; Morgan to Howe, July 6, 1940, Morgan papers, 26:340.

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the new Federal Writers' Project director, Alsberg's replacement John D. Newsom, still did not approve of the result. While the balance of the Utah guide manuscript returned to Salt Lake City, the opening essay was given to sociologist and ex-Utahn Nels Anderson. Anderson returned his revision in late August 1940. Newsom remained dissatisfied. The primary issue behind the dissatisfaction with the lead essay was how it might be regarded by one particularly sensitive, historically rich resource. A delicate relationship existed between the public writing projects and the LDS Church Historian's Office, whose library was then the largest in the state. Morgan and Dee Bramwell of the H R S had carefully cultivated relations for more than two years, and for the moment church cooperation delicately tipped in the project's favor. Both the state and national offices were extraordinarily sensitive and went to great lengths to excise any possible slight, misperception, or misstatement that might upset the church department's research cooperation. Concerned that the opening essay might upset the balance, Howe turned to Morgan for help. "While I am very busy and have my hands full, I will do anything to get the Guide out more quickly," Morgan wrote in response. "Tell them to fire the damned essay out here in all its versions, and I'll have a crack at it." When the balance of the guidebook's final manuscript was shipped in September to the publisher, Hastings House in New York, the opening essay went back west to Morgan. 28 In the midst of negotiations for project sponsorships, routine supervisory and office work, reviews of edited manuscripts, and meetings, Morgan squeezed out a draft of a new "Contemporary Scene" essay in a little more than a week. T h e draft, which by now he wryly referred to as " T h e Contemptuous Scene," returned to Washington on the second of October. It was, he stated to Howe, about four-tenths Dale Morgan, two-tenths Maurice Howe, two-tenths Darel McConkey, one-tenth Nels Anderson, "and maybe an additional paprika sprinkling ofVardis Fisher."29 This version was finally accepted. With the final guidebook manuscript at last in the keeping of Hastings House, the publisher calculated the book's finished length. It was then handed off to J.J. Little and Ives, a New York typesetting firm. O n November 15, 1940, Maurice Howe wrote hastily to Morgan telling him the glad news that type was being set. While their work was being committed to type, the Utah Writers' Project staff turned directly to other enterprises. Morgan devoted his time primarily to soliciting sponsorships for new writing projects, but he again picked up work on H R S county histories.30 28 McConkey to Morgan, September 3, 1940, Morgan papers, 14:1347; Morgan to Howe, September 11, 1940, Morgan papers, 26:361. McConkey also reported that despite the work that had been lavished on the manuscript, in the final review he had been required to rewrite the preface, removing many deserved credits. It was a spatial, not a political, decision, he noted to Morgan; McConkey to Morgan, September 22,1940, Morgan papers, 14:1350. 29 Morgan to Howe, October 2, 1940, Morgan papers, 26:368. 30 Howe to Morgan, 26:757.

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Unfortunately, the scheduled publication for the Utah guidebook hit a snag almost immediately. Hastings House shuffled its priorities, and printing of the Utah guide was held up in favor of the Louisiana guidebook, which the publisher hoped to have available in time for Mardi Gras. This twist of fate threatened to push publication of the Utah guide from early January 1941 well into February or March. Hastings used the downtime to send the Utah manuscript back to Washington to have it cut by an additional hundred pages. After this edit, Howe apologized profusely to Morgan. Most of the deletions were quoted material for which the Utah staff had spent months getting permissions. 31 The first long sheets of galley proofs arrived in Washington and Utah just after Christmas. Morgan read and corrected the Utah set himself, then he collated corrections line by line as they came from Howe and other readers. Initially, Howe complimented Morgan on how well the text flowed (he had begun with Morgan's essay), but within a few sheets both men were appalled by the choppy overall quality of the writing. Howe began sending daily airmail letters of galley corrections to Morgan, w h o for his part admitted that he was wielding a heavy pencil. "There is no semblance of uniformity in organization of the information; each essay is a damned law unto itself," Morgan complained. T h e galley corrections went beyond factual errors to the heart of the real issue—the writing-by-committee process that had produced the text. Sections had been compiled, written, edited, reviewed, and approved by dozens of different people at different times over the past four years. Before the galley stage, even the editor had seen the whole thing only in its constituent pieces.32 For years, the effects of its own convoluted approval process had been lost entirely on the national office, but in the midst of Howe's review a heated battle erupted in Washington over the propriety of national staff editing guide manuscripts that had been approved by the state projects and their respective sponsors. Since the central office had been editing manuscripts since 1936, this should have been a non-issue. Perhaps the time Howe had lavished on the Utah book made it an issue, however, and he quietly informed Morgan that he might not be able to complete his reading.33 The last of the galleys were hustled back to the printer in time for the Utah offices to host a reception and promotional dinner showcasing their work to Utah legislators. The party was an important public relations move for the arts projects, as Utah's legislators generally disapproved of the whitecollar relief initiatives sponsored by the federal administration. Staff members entertained questions of all sorts that evening, and most legislators left that evening expressing positive opinions of the project's accomplishments. 34 31

Howe to Morgan, December 4, 1940, Morgan papers, 26:770. Morgan to Howe, January 5, 1941, Morgan papers, 26:392. 33 Howe to Morgan, January 13, 1941, Morgan papers, 26:815. 34 Morgan to Ruby Garrett, January 30, 1941, Morgan papers, 27:475; cf. 27:764, 948, 950. 32

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With the guide at last at the press, marketing became the top priority. T h r o u g h February 1941 the office staff w o r k e d on a l a r g e scale advertising campaign, writing radio spots of different types and p r o m o tional newspaper articles of varying lengths. Darrell Greenwell wrote a circular letter reminding employees to boost the book at every opportunity. Morgan or his lieutenants approached the Salt Lake Tribune, Deseret News, and Salt Lake Telegram asking the papers to feature the book, not just advertise it. He also put in Gail Martin (right), Utah Institute place a plan for the one major labor remain- of Fine Arts director, presents the ing on the volume: the index. Coming at the first copy of the Utah guide to end of the process, indexing is always the Governor Herbert B. Maw. Ruby S. most intensive, time-driven part of publication. Once corrected page proofs arrived in Garrett looks on. early March, the index consumed an entire week of twelve-hour days for the whole W P office. As the last of the index cards were being written up, a telegram from the publisher on Saturday morning announced that Hastings needed the typed index manuscript in hand by the following Tuesday if it was to keep a publication date of April 1. Several of the staff completed the necessary work in straight thirty-six-hour stints through the weekend; the index was mailed Monday morning. 35 Their work paid off. A single copy of Utah: A Guide to the State, in its blue and yellow dust jacket, arrived in Salt Lake City from Hastings via air express mail on March 28, 1941. The book was handed carefully around the Utah Writers' Project office, since this copy was supposed to be presented formally to Governor Herbert Maw the next day. This formal presentation was made to the governor by UIFA director Gail Martin and Ruby Garrett, head of the Utah WPA's Women's and Professional Projects section.36 N o one from the Writers' Project was invited. The staff held their own publication party a few days later when the crated books began arriving. Presentation copies of the guidebook were given to the Utah Institute of Fine Arts board members, select state officials, and the U t a h State ~> Morgan to Howe, March 10, 1941, Morgan papers, 26:404. 5 Salt Lake Tribune, March 29,1941.

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Historical Society and Salt Lake City libraries. Morgan made certain that inscribed copies were given to the entire staff of the LDS C h u r c h Historian's Office and to church president Heber J. Grant. T h e project writers and editors w h o had produced the book were required to buy copies on their own.37 The day after the April 1 publication date, the Utah guide appeared on store shelves, and the staff activated the promotional campaign. Since much of the guidebook was geared toward automobile travel and sites reachable by road, the staff had hunted up an old "horseless carriage" automobile. The car was used in a promotional stunt to carry the first copies of the guide to the downtown stores and to present a book to Salt Lake City mayor Ab Jenkins. Building on this "horseless carriage" publicity, Mayor Jenkins and the Writers' Project offered a copy of the guide to any owner of an automobile built before 1920. The only catch was that a car had to be driven to the Arts Center in order for its owner to claim a volume. 38 Copies of the book were displayed prominently in the downtown Arts Center the same day. Retail interest in the capital city was said to be considerable. The downtown stores immediately absorbed 7,500 small promotional flyers sent west by Hastings. ZCMI's staff hurriedly mimeographed an announcement of their own and sent it to affiliated stores in the southern part of the state. Elsewhere in the city, anecdotal sales reports were exciting as well. The books were said to be selling rapidly in Deseret Book Store, Z C M I , and Auerbach's book department. At an office machine store where he worked, Morgan's brother Bob sold his own copy right off his desktop, even before he'd had a chance to look at it, to a customer who had walked into the office. The Writers' Project editor was entertaining the heady idea that the entire press run might sell out within the state alone. The reaction of critics fueled his optimism. Even among the American Guide Series books, which were generally praised, the Utah guide was acknowledged to stand apart for its scope, narrative quality, and readability. Morgan was pleased to catalogue very little negative opinion but was pained over nine or ten typographical errors that had slipped through the review process.39 Despite exciting initial reports, within a few days of the book's release it was evident that actual sales figures were modest. Discrete inquiries revealed that virtually nothing had been done to market the book beyond handing out the publisher's brochures and ZCMI's flier. Hastings House had failed to do direct mailings as promised, either to Latter-day Saint congregations or to the Utah State Historical Society membership list.

37 Morgan to Heber J. Grant, April 3, 1941, MS B-57, 79: "Correspondence," USHS; Walter Frese to Ruby Garrett, March 18, 1941, MS B-57, 79: "Correspondence," USHS; Morgan to Ruth [Garrett], April 5, 1941, Morgan Papers, 27:1064. 38 Salt Lake Tribune, April 2 and 3,1941; Morgan papers, 80:1042, 1109. 39 Morgan to Howe, April 4,1941, Morgan papers, 26:409.

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Local stores had failed to use the marketing materials supplied by the project, and some had not used in-store advertising or created book displays at all. The Writers' Project staff, who had produced the book and generated an ad campaign, now had to make promotional contacts, sales calls, and billing arrangements in order to market the edition themselves. The staff visited or wrote to school libraries throughout the state, touting the guidebook's suitability for general use. They approached the Continental Oil Company (Conoco) about featuring the guide in appropriate issues of its Travelaid brochure series. They even took it to the Alta Club, where the wealthy, conservative club officers were impressed with the book and praised it warmly, feeling that it would benefit the state's businesses. However, the Republican party members among them declined to allow the club to underwrite its advertising on the grounds that they did not want to be perceived as supporting the offshoot of a Democratic program. 40 By the middle of May, the war in Europe occupied more and more headlines, and despite the best efforts of project personnel to push sales, few retailers responded. The book was a seller, but not the spectacular sellout that Morgan had hoped for. Deseret Book Store, which had not bothered even to feature the book with in-store advertising, sold a hundred copies quickly but dawdled over reordering. Another store owner did not order copies at all until the book had been out two weeks, and then he wanted only half a dozen. They were gone almost instantly, but he placed a second order just as small. N o store in Provo carried the guide, and newspapers south of Salt Lake City failed to carry stories or advertising despite the almost-weekly press releases the project office sent out. Reinforced by a positive article on the WPA guides in the Journal of the National Education Association, W P publicist George Hunter wrote an article on the guide's production process at the invitation of the Utah Educational Review editor. However, when copies of the magazine came out, Hunter could not find the article at all. It had been dropped from the contents to make space for last-minute advertising. The editor apologized and promised that the article would r u n in the next issue. H u n t e r inquired w h e n that would be. Sometime in the fall, he was told.41 Guidebook sales continued steadily despite the setbacks. Unaware of the inattention among distributors, Ogden's Standard Examiner concluded that "interest [in t h e guide] was l i g h t " 4 2 — e v e n t h o u g h c o n t e m p o r a r y comments imply that sales were good among those who knew about the book and could locate a copy in the stores. O n the first Sunday in July, fully three months after its release, the Salt Lake Tribune at last ran a full-page

40 See various correspondence between April 3 and June 15, 1942, Morgan papers, sect. 7, for comments on the topic, particularly 27:662, 863, 974,1001,1145,1161, 1190,1229. 41 Morgan to Howe, May 10, 1941, Morgan papers, 26:423; Journal of the National Education Association 27 (May 1938): 140-41. 42 Ogden Standard Examiner, undated clipping, Morgan papers, 80:1316.

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illustrated story on the book. The story came late enough that the writer could comment on what seemed to be the guide's slow sales. To boost awareness in the state, the Arts Project put together a traveling promotional exhibit that was featured not only in the Salt Lake City offices but also in Provo, Price, and Helper. 43 By this time the excitement of publication had passed, and the Utah Writers' Project staff turned their attention to other projects in a fight for the program's continued survival. Morgan tried mightily to convince the state to adopt the project as its public relations and development arm, without success.44 Six m o n t h s after release of the U t a h guide, the final b o o k in the American Guide Series, the guidebook for Oklahoma, was issued. By September 1941, the fifty-one-component showpiece of the Writers' Project was complete. Utah's guide had been released mere weeks before the first peacetime draft began drawing men for military training. As the U.S. entered the Second World War, Morgan and his staff continued to promote sales of the Utah guide, devoting more energy to placing eversmaller numbers of books. W h e n the Writer's Project was disbanded in 1943, the copies remaining in the project's hands were probably parceled out by the publisher to various stores as remainders. In the years immediately after the war, as young servicemen and women returned h o m e to begin families, buy new cars, and spend disposable income in leisure pursuits, sales of the American Guide Series picked up again. A compilation of tours from the guide series was issued in fivevolume regional and one-volume national variations in 1954, and Utah: A Guide to the State was reprinted virtually without changes in 1945, 1954, and 1959. N o w sixty years old, the WPA guidebook has been superseded by newer, more up-to-date titles, including revised versions of itself. In 1981 the guidebook was subjected to a "second edition," and a third followed in 1998.45 These describe more national monuments and parks, larger cities, and an interstate highway system. The first-edition books are gone from the holdings of most public and school libraries, but the volume remains interesting reading and can still guide a reader along many of what have become Utah's back roads. However, buyers must look hard for one, because the original imprint, if it is in good condition and sports the increasingly rare illustrated dust jacket, finds eager buyers in the rare book market. Curious, isn't it? T h e treasures coddled by m o d e r n rare-book collectors are a far cry from the everyman's guide to the country first envisioned by Henry Alsberg.

43

Darrel McConkey by Ruby Garrett to Florence Kerr for John Newsom, June 16, 1941, WPA papers, 79: "Correspondence," USHS. 44 Morgan to Howe, May 1, 1941, Morgan papers, 26:418; Morgan to Ora Bundy, October 14, 1941, 27:578. 45 Ward Jay Roylance, Utah: A Guide to the State (Salt Lake City: Utah a Guide to the State Foundation, 1982); Barry Scholl and Francois Camoin, Utah:A Guide to the State (Salt Lake City: Gibbs Smith, 1998).

38


Dorothea Lange's Portrait of Utah's Great Depression By JAMES R. SWENSEN

F

rom its public debut in 1839, the photograph has been an important means by which historians have acquainted the public with the people and landscapes of the past and with the events, both tragic and triumphant, that have shaped our lives. The photograph is a captured moment, a lingering image frozen in time for all generations to witness. Utah historians have looked to the images of Charles Savage, William Henry Jackson, and Timothy O'Sullivan, to name but a few, to help us understand the state's past. Yet we must remember that, like any other art form, the photograph is subjective. There is no such thing as a tabula rasa in photography. Every photograph is a reflection of the photographer's own biases, experiences, perceptions, and agendas, which are captured, either consciously or subconsciously, on film. The photographer's hand is present in the work, whether in the handling of light or in the decision on what to include and what to exclude. 1 O n the surface, this In 1936 Dorothea Lange took point may seem trivial, and yet understanding this photograph of a Mormon the photographer's ability to visually edit a Danish immigrant in Widtsoe, photograph is essential in understanding his- Utah, receiving her first old-age torical photography. For example, Savage, a assistance check from the Mormon convert from Great Britain, used his federal government. All camera to show that the Mormons of Utah's "Zion" were making the desert "blossom as a photographs are Farm Security rose" in accordance with the prophecies of Administration photos taken Isaiah. 2 O'Sullivan and Jackson composed by Dorothea Lange.

James R. Swensen teaches at the Salt Lake Community College. For his master's thesis at BYU he wrote about Dorothea Lange and the Farm Security Administration in Utah. 1 See Peter Hales, William Henry Jackson and the Transformation of the American Landscape (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1988), 44. 2 Bradley W Richards, The Savage View: Charles Savage, Pioneer Mormon Photographer (Nevada City, CA: Carl Mautz Publishing, 1995), 44.

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photographs that helped propel the American myth of the great western expanse of majestic peaks, never-ending prairies, and unconquered natural wonders. 3 In fact, it should be remembered that every photograph is taken with a hidden or overt agenda, whether ideological, artistic, or political. This idea of the photographer's agenda is nowhere more apparent than in the photography of the Farm Security Administration (FSA). From 1935 to 1942, FSA photographers Walker Evans, Dorothea Lange, Ben Shahn, Russell Lee, Arthur Rothstein, and others scoured America photographing the Great Depression and pre-World War II America. In the process, they created one of the most comprehensive and complete portraits of America ever made. Over the last fifty years, U t a h historians have often used photographs from the FSA or Resettlement Administration (RA), as the FSA was known before 1937, to illustrate books and articles about the depression and its impact on Utah's miners and farmers. 4 T h e practical goals of the R e s e t t l e m e n t Administration and Farm Security Administration were to help the rural poor of America. The goal of the FSA photographers was to take pictures that supported their agency. In covering their various assignments, the photographers did what was necessary to achieve this end. According to Susan Sontag, they would look for the decisive moments that best supported their own notions about poverty, dignity, and exploitation. She writes, "In deciding how a picture should look, in preferring one exposure to another, photographers are always imposing standards on their subjects." Likewise, David Peeler stated that the scenes the FSA photographers captured were pliable and were arranged "according to [their] own notion of just what the truth should be." 5 The photographers, therefore, created a photographic vision that was specifically designed to support the N e w Deal's PJV and FSA through the windows of their own personal ideologies. Each photographic assignment was therefore slanted to fit the agenda of the R A / F S A or that of the p h o tographer rather than to mimic the reality of the actual scene. Dorothea Lange, one of the agency's most renowned photographers, is regarded as having a sensitive eye and acute social consciousness. In the early spring of 1936 she traveled through Utah for the R A . The principal reason for her trip to Utah was to document the plight of the poor miners 3 Hales, William Henry Jackson, 58; Beaumont Newhall, The History of Photography: 1839 to the Present Day (New York: Museum of Modern Art, 1988), 94-103. 4 The FSA collection, housed in the Library of Congress in Washington, D O , contains more than 270,000 images, all of which were collected under the direction of R o y Stryker. The Resettlement Administration (RA), the agency under which the photography unit was established in 1935, was absorbed by the FSA in 1937. For the purpose of this article I "will refer to both agencies because a majority of the images and assignments discussed took place in the spring of 1936 and therefore fall under the aegis of the R A and not the FSA. 5 Susan Sontag, On Photography (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1977), 6; David P. Peeler, Hope Among Us Yet: Social Criticism and Social Solace in Depression America (Athens: University of Georgia Press, 1987), 58. See also James Curtis, Mind's Eye, Mind's Truth: FSA Photography Reconsidered (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1989), 5-18.

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of Carbon County and conditions in the federally supported resettlement town of Widtsoe and in the M o r m o n frontier town of Escalante. In Utah, she used her selective artistic sensibilities to create a vision that supported and justified her agency, its presence, and its programs as well as her own beliefs and ideology.6 To understand her work, one must first understand her. Lange was born in 1895 in Hoboken, N e w Jersey. At the age of seven, she was struck by polio. The disease produced a profound but well-masked limp in her walk that she carried throughout her life. Speaking of her ailment, Lange stated, "I think it perhaps was the most important thing that happened to me and formed me, guided me, instructed me, helped me, and humiliated me. All those things at once." 7 The effect of her ailment would be as an aid and an influence in her photography. Because of her small frame, quiet nature, and marked limp, Lange would not be perceived as a threat to her subjects, who, she believed, more freely opened themselves for examination. 8 More important, she felt that her disability helped her understand, feel, and see the inner strengths of her subjects. Like Lange, her subjects would be handicapped, though not in body but by crushing economic circumstances. By the age of twenty-three, Lange became restless. Having begun to develop her photographic eye under the tutelage of Clarence White and Arnold Genthe, she embarked on a journey around the world with a close friend, $140, and a camera. The duo made it as far as San Francisco, where their money was stolen and their plans grounded. From that point on, Lange made the West her home. In San Francisco, Lange quickly procured work in a photo-finishing shop and later started her own portrait studio. With time, her studio attracted many of the Bay Area elite. It was here that she met her first husband, the painter Maynard Dixon, w h o m she married on March 21, 1920. The couple stayed together for fifteen years, during which time they had two sons, Dan and John. The two artists helped each other refine their uniquely personal styles. Maynard, it seems, helped Lange further develop her artistic eye for composition and an understanding of the West. It was with him that Lange came to know the land and people of Utah. Dorothea, on the other hand, was Dixon's guide to the streets of the depression. 9

6 Lange worked, at times sporadically, for the FSA from August 1935 to 1940. Walker Evans is typically considered the FSA's greatest photographer, rivaled only by Lange and Ben Shahn. For a complete history of the Historical Section see Jack F. Hurley, Portrait of a Decade: Roy Stryker and the Development of Documentary Photography in the Thirties (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1972), 43-44, 94. For Lange's photographic vision, see Curtis, Mind's Eye, 45-67. 7 Dorothea Lange, The Making of a Documentary Photographer, an interview by Suzanne Reiss (Berkeley: Regional Oral History Office, Bancroft Library, University of California, 1968), 17. 8 This fact is easily noticeable in her field notes. Pervasive throughout are quickly scribbled statements from her subjects that are often of a personal nature. See Therese Thau Heyman, Celebrating the Collection: The Work of Dorothea Lange (Oakland, CA: Oakland Museum, 1978), 84-85. 9 See Heyman, Celebrating the Collection, 50-52, and Deborah Brown Rasial, "Dixon and Lange: The Give and Take in a Marriage of Aesthetics," in Linda Jones Gibbs, Escape to Reality: the Western World of

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Around 1933, Lange had found that her studio work was not indicative of the real world that passed by her window in the form of the homeless, penniless, and jobless. Eventually, she found herself wandering out to the streets to photograph their harsh reality. Lange's pivotal work, "White Angel Breadline" (1933), demonstrates her personal ideology of universal sympathy and a genuine concern for even the humblest being. 10 This ideology would come to fruition in her work for the Resettlement Administration and the Farm Security Administration. The change to photographing the poor was also facilitated by the sociologist Paul S. Taylor. Taylor, an economic sociologist firmly committed to the N e w Deal and to improving the agricultural conditions of the West, hired Lange in 1935 as a photographer for his research with state-funded projects scattered across California. By August 1935, both Lange and Taylor had been hired by the R A and were assigned to cover Region IX, which included Utah, Arizona, N e w Mexico, California, and Nevada. Taylor strongly believed that photography was an essential component to his work as a researcher. "[To] be able to see what the real conditions were like," Taylor stated, "my words would not be enough...to show the conditions vividly and accurately."11 In covering their various assignments, the two worked as a team, with Taylor providing the text and Lange supplying the visual imagery. This team was further strengthened in December 1935, when Lange and Taylor divorced their spouses and married. 12 W h e n Lange joined the PJ\. in 1935 the objectives and strategies of the n e w l y f o r m e d N e w D e a l a g e n c y w e r e still in t h e i r infancy. T h e R e s e t t l e m e n t Administration was officially created May 1, 1935, by Executive Order 7027. Its formation stemmed from Franklin D. Roosevelt's concern for America's rural population, which had for more than five years suffered greatly from the effects of the Great Depression. The president appointed Rexford Tugwell, a member of his famed "Brain Trust," as head of the new agency, which was a conglomeration of already-existing agencies aimed at helping the agricultural sector.The RA's primary objective was to aid the "forgotten man at the bottom of the economic pyramid" 13 through Maynard Dixon (Provo, U T : BYU Museum of Art, 2000), 140-67. Dixon's short but profound move away from landscapes to street scenes, which he began in 1935, is typically known as his "Strike and Forgotten Man" Series. 10 Milton Meltzer, Dorothea Lange: A Photographer's Life (New York: Farrar, Straus, Giroux, 1978), 33-34; W Eugene Smith, "One W h o m I Admire, Dorothea Lange (1895-1965)," Popular Photography, February 1966, 88. See also Pare Lorentz,"Dorothea Lange: Camera with a Purpose," US Camera 1 (1941): 98. 11 Karen Tsujimoto, Dorothea Lange: Archive of an Artist (Oakland: Oakland Museum of California, 1995), 10-11. 12 Meltzer, Dorothea Lange, 128. For the quintessential example of their teamwork see Dorothea Lange and Paul S. Taylor, An American Exodus: A Record of Human Erosion (New York: Reynal and Hitchcock, 1939). 13 Sidney Baldwin, Poverty and Politics: The Rise and Decline of the Farm Security Administration (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1968), 48, 92. The construction of the Tropic Dam west of Bryce Canyon is a good example of a project administered by the RA; see Paul S.Taylor, "From the Ground Up," Survey Graphic (September 1936): 528.

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DOROTHEA LANGE

resettlement, approved projects, and small loans. In all, Roosevelt hoped that these measures could rescue the one-third of the nation that he saw as "illhoused, ill-clad, ill-nourished." 14 Due to the "big government" nature of the RA's programs, Tugwell knew that his administration would come under serious attack from conservatives who saw his agency as strange, socialist, and even Communist. 15 He knew that the RA could not survive misrepresentation. He therefore created an ambitious public information program within the RA, designed to propagate faith in the agency and its programs. This Information Division, a propaganda machine, would broadcast the positive aspects of the RA through radio programs, magazines, yearbooks, circulars and bulletins, and documentary films.16 Arguably the most successful sector of Tugwell's Information Division was the photography division or, as it became titled, the Historical Section. For Tugwell, p h o t o g r a p h y was a perfect m e d i u m t h r o u g h w h i c h to publicize the activities of the r\A. He believed in the camera's power to "educate" the public; he knew that a carefully composed photograph could be innocently and automatically accepted as reality. "You could never say anything about photography—it was a photograph, it was a picture," he said. "This was something you couldn't deny. This was evident."17 To head the Historical Section Tugwell hired R o y Stryker, an economist and colleague from the University of Columbia. Stryker was zealously committed to the precepts of Roosevelt's N e w Deal and Tugwell's PJ\.. Like Tugwell, he believed in the camera's ability to support the administration's political ideology, sway public opinion, placate misconceptions, and, most important, help America's rural poor. Tugwell gave Stryker the task of documenting the agency's activities by p h o t o g r a p h i n g various R A projects that d o t t e d the country, from G r e e n b e l t c o m m u n i t i e s such as H i g h t s t o w n , N e w Jersey, to t h e resettlement of small rural towns such as Widtsoe, Utah. The collected photographs would be used by members of Congress to push for legislation, or they would be loaned out to various magazines such as Time, Fortune, Survey Graphic, or even Junior Scholastic.These outlets would, in turn, generate good publicity for the RA. In a letter to Dorothea Lange, Stryker reminded his photographer, "I am terribly glad that the photographs have had such wide use. That, after all is the first purpose of our existence—to get as

14 Franklin D. Roosevelt, quoted in The Years of Bitterness and Pride: Farm Security Administration FSA Photographs 1935-1943 (NewYork: McGraw-Hill Book Company, 1975), 1. 15 Tugwell's radical programs were a far cry from the conservative belief that the government could "not spend [its] way to prosperity"; see S. A. Spencer, The Greatest Show on Earth: A Photographic Story of Man's Struggle for Wealth (New York: Doubleday, Dorant and Company, 1938), 158, 172, 176-77, and "Farm Trouble: Cooperative and Ex-director Call Each Other Communist," Newsweek, January 16, 1936: 40-41. 16 Baldwin, Poverty and Politics, 113-17. 17 Heyman, Celebrating the Collection, 70.

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much good publicity as we can for the Resettlement Administration." 18 This "good publicity" was admittedly positive propaganda for the agency. In photographing the poorest third of the rural poor Stryker and his team believed that they were showing the formidable need for the R A and its programs—and that they were acting in the best interest of their subjects.19 Although, unlike Stryker, Lange was not committed to any particular political ideology, she was deeply devoted to the N e w Deal.20 In a 1936 letter to Stryker she stated her allegiance: "I've said before that you can call on me for anything I can do to further the cause which we are both so vitally interested in."21 Her dedication was based not on political grounds but on altruism. In visiting the various R A / F S A programs across the nation, she had seen the N e w Deal help America's rural population, and she felt the N e w Deal generally did help those in need. By producing sympathetic photographs of America's destitute rural communities, she knew that she could aid her agency's cause and in so doing benefit the poor. For Lange, it did not matter whether this was propaganda. According to her, "Everything is propaganda for what you believe in.... The harder and the more deeply you believe in anything, the more in a sense you are a propagandist. Conviction, propaganda, faith. I don't know, I never have been able to come to the conclusion that thats' [sic] a bad word."22 W h e n Lange arrived in Utah in 1936, the economy was slowly recuperating and unemployment was at a five-year low, yet the effects of the depression were still clearly visible. At one point more than 60,000 Utahns, or 35.8 percent of the total population, were unemployed, and thousands of farms and ranches faced foreclosure. In 1933 Utah governor Henry Blood looked to Washington for aid and through personal solicitation secured millions of dollars for Utah's families from N e w Deal funds. As a result, various N e w Deal programs began to spread throughout the state. T h e federal government eventually spent $569.99 per capita in Utah, a total of $289 million, to help pull the state out of the depression.23 18 For the various uses of the photographs see Maren Stange, Symbols of Ideal Life: Social Documentary Photography in America, 1890-1950 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1989), 108-13. Stryker to Lange, October 30,1936, quoted in Heyman, Celebrating the Collection, 69. 19 Baldwin, Poverty and Politics, 119. 20 When asked whether his wife had any affiliations with Communism or any particular group, Paul Taylor responded, "No, no, not political or otherwise. No, she didn't belong to any, she didn't even belong to the f/64 photographers club.... She didn't belong to any thing." Her son Daniel Dixon also confirmed that Lange "had no interest in politicians"; see Paul Taylor, Paul Schuster Taylor: California Social Scientist, an interview by Suzanne Reiss, vol. 1 (Berkeley: Regional Oral History Office, 1973), 222. See also Elizabeth Partridge, ed., Dorothea Lange:A Visual Life (Washington D C : Smithsonian Institution Press, 1994), 68. 21 Lange to Stryker, November 1936, quoted in Jack F. Hurley, "The Farm Security Administration File, In and Out of Focus," History of Photography 17 (Autumn 1993): 250. 22 Lange, The Making of a Documentary Photographer, 206. 23 Thomas G.Alexander, Utah:The Right Place (Salt Lake City: Gibbs Smith Publisher, 1995), 323ff; John F. Bluth and Wayne K. Hinton, "The Great Depression," in Richard D. Poll, et al., eds., Utah's History (Logan: Utah State University Press, 1989), 482, 485, 495; G. Melvin Foxely, interview by the author, March 1998, Salt Lake City, Utah, transcript in possession of the author. O n Blood's lobbying in Washington, D C , see R.Thomas Quinn,"Out of the Depression's Depths: Henry H. Blood's First Year as Governor," Utah Historical Quarterly 54 (Summer 1986): 233, 216-39.

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DOROTHEA LANGE

During her visit to Utah, Lange would focus on the hardships of three small rural areas.24 She began in the snowy coal-laden hills of Carbon County by photographing the forgotten miners in the small towns of Consumers and National. Her next assignment documented the abandonment of Widtsoe during the RA's resettlement of its residents. Last, she traveled to the isolated M o r m o n town of Escalante. In each of these areas, she constructed, through her own visual editing, distinct portraits. These wellcrafted portrayals reflected Lange's support of the I \ A as well as her own beliefs and ideology. The visions of Consumers, Widtsoe, and Escalante were not specifically designed to show the true nature of the towns or their reality; rather, the photographic portfolios were constructed to fit the needs of Lange and the RA. 25 After arriving in Salt Lake City on March 25, 1936, only days after recording her monumental "Migrant Mother" photograph, Lange traveled southeast to the depressed communities of Carbon County. 26 The Great Depression was not the beginning of hard times for Carbon County's coal mines. In fact, by the time the stock market crashed in October 1929 the mines had already endured eight years of depression. The year 1920 marked the beginning of a national coal recession that would last until the surging economy of World War II. By 1921, Utah's coal mines began to feel the impact of the national slide and were forced to curtail production. The slide continued, and by 1932 Utah's total coal production was less than one-half thatofl920. 2 7 T h e Resettlement Administration wanted to improve the appalling housing conditions in mining towns by providing small loans to the miners so that they could build sturdier homes and cultivate small gardens. These measures, it was hoped, would "shield [the miners] from the insecurity of company housing and seasonal employment"—and make them less dependent on the government for help.28 The BJV needed to expose the poverty of the mining towns in order to begin to improve the situation. Lange's task, therefore, was to capture, in matter-of-fact images, the clear destitution of the families and the poverty of their homes. 24

She would also cover smaller assignment such as the Central Dry Land Adjustment Project, centered in Tooele County's Rush Valley, and the building of the Tropic Dam. Both assignments received considerably less attention from Lange and her camera. 25 Peeler, Hope among Us Yet, 46. See also Charles Shindo, Dust Bowl Migrants in the American Imagination (Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 1997), 2. 26 Dorothea Lange, Field Notes, Dorothea Lange Collection, Oakland Museum, Oakland, California, 24. Upon arriving in Utah, Lange took a taxi to the Hotel Utah and paid for stamps, camera assistance, and a telephone call. Later she met with Ann Sundwall, assistant director of employment for the WPA, and headed out to her assignments. While the field notes are rich in some areas, they are extremely spotty in others. Piecing her complete activities together from her notes is rather difficult. 27 Ibid.; Poll, ed., Utah's History, 465; A State Plan for Utah: Progress Report, April 15, 1935 (Salt Lake City: Utah State Planning Board, 1935), 197-98. 28 Walter N. Polakov, "Hovels that Miners Call Home," Shelter, October 1938, 7; Brian Cannon, Life and Land: The Farm Security Administration Photographers in Utah (Logan: Utah State University Press, 1988), 4; Meltzer, Dorothea Lange, 139.

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W h e n Lange arrived in Carbon County on March 27, the mining towns that dotted the landscape a r o u n d H e l p e r and P r i c e were crumbling under the w e i g h t of hard times; to capture images of poverty Lange could have selected any of the county's mining camps.29 For her assignment Lange chose the towns in t h e G o r d o n C r e e k area: National and its neighbor to t h e west, C o n s u m e r s . Ironically, these were two of the newest coal camps, but they had already fallen into difficult c i r c u m s t a n c e s . T h e snowy area, Main Street, Consumers, miserable homes, and worn mining families March 1936. presented the ideal setting for her look into the plight of America's poor mining towns. O n e of the most telling images Lange captured was a view up the main street of C o n s u m e r s just beyond the Blue Blaze Coal M i n e . Lange captioned the photograph: "Consumers, near Price, Utah, March 1936. A Settlement of workers in the Blue Blaze coal mine which is controlled by absentee capital. Main Street." 30 In their prime, National and Consumers had a combined population of nearly 500 people, 31 but in this image a lone figure appears. Making his way through the m u d and snow, the figure glances back at Lange, his face blurred by his sudden action. This lone figure is bracketed by two rows of dark-looking homes of various sizes and shapes. T h e houses appear similar to those in any other coal settlement across the n a t i o n in the 1930s, w h i c h a c o n t e m p o r a r y described as "Crowded, unsanitary houses with leaky roofs, with floors and windows barring no cold."32 Later, Lange would photograph the miners returning up the same street to their disorganized and disheveled homes, which they rented from the mine for up to eight dollars a month. 33 29 J. Eldon Dorman, interview by the author, August 1999, Price, Utah, tape recording in possession of the author. 30 Caption, LC-USF-34-9037-E, Library of Congress. 31 Stephen Carr, The Historical Guide to Utah Ghost Towns (Salt Lake City:Western Epics, 1972), 81. 32 Polakov, "Hovels that Miners Call Home," 7. Other RA/FSA photographers would find similar situations across the nation. See Shahn's "Jenkins, Kentucky, 1935" (LC-USF-33-006137-M5), Rothstein's "Coal Miner's Housing, 1937" (LC-USF-34-025461-D), and Post-Wolcott's "Main street, Chaplin, West Virginia, Sept 1938" (LC-USF-33-030204-M3). 33 Caption, LC-USF-34-009043-E. According to the September 1933 payroll for the Blue Blaze Coal

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To get to this vantage point she had passed under the mine tipple—the looming gateway to the city—a three-story apartment house, well-kept offices, and the post office. The area of the town she selected to emphasize was visibly p o o r e r than the more polished area of the community, represented by her photograph of the company store. She did not photograph other positive aspects of the town such as the service station, a model medical clinic featuring an x-ray machine, a five-bed hospital, and a wellstocked pharmacy. As historian Brian Cannon has pointed out, her vision of Consumers was skewed to emphasize the poverty and injustice facing the miners. 34 She created a vision that centered on the desperate aspects of this small Utah community; instead of concrete edifices, she photographed the dilapidated wooden homes of the miners. Repeatedly, her captions label the towns as the "Dumping Ground of the West." The source of this label is debated, but for Lange the phrase was possibly the only t e r m that adequately defined the experience of living in the poor coal camps.35 As Lange walked through National and Consumers, she continued to concentrate on the small homes of the camps, b o t h individually and collectively. The images were carefully and deliberately crafted to show her audience the ramshackle homes built of scrap lumber and tar paper. To emphasize her vision, Lange took advantage of the cold blanket of snow, which she used to highlight the contrast between the dark buildings and the white landscape. By minimizing the size of the miners' homes in her viewfinder and final prints, Lange makes the houses seem smaller and more uninhabitable than they really were. For a middle-class viewer, these homes would appear to be nothing more than beat-up shacks. During her visit Lange also focused on occupants of the dilapidated homes. The men of the coal camps were represented by a stark image of an older miner standing in front of a railway car. Although the miners of Carbon County were thought to be beaten and battered by depressions and strikes,36 Lange portrays the man's dignity and pride despite his surroundings, Mine, the average rent was around $6.50 per month.That same month, the average daily salary was $4.00, but, due to erratic mine operation, the employees only worked an average of fourteen days per month. The cited numbers are averages, as wages and days varied greatly. Dave Parmley, the mine foreman, for example, worked thirty days in September at $7.50 per day. In comparison, hoist-man Edgar Johnson worked only twenty-two days at $3.40 per day. Although the numbers may be skewed due to the 1933 strike, the figures are quite similar to those of August and October 1933. See payroll for the Blue Blaze Coal Mine, Consumers, Utah, 1933, Special Collections, Harold B. Lee Library, Brigham Young University. 34 Cannon, Life and Land, 4. For an understanding of the makeup of Consumers, see J. Eldon Dorman, Confessions of a Camp Doctor and Other Stories (Price, UT: Peczuh Printing, 1995). Stephen Carr provides a good description of what was left in ruins when the town was abandoned in the 1950s; see Carr, Utah Ghost Towns, 81. Today little of the original structures remains; the foundations of National's school and municipal buildings are about all that is left. The rest was razed in order to create a larger road for a lumber company farther up the valley and a newly opened mine that stands on the site where the town of Consumers once stood. 35 Dorman interview; Lange, Field Notes, 25; see caption for LC-USF34-009003-C 36 J. Russell Smith, North America: Its People and the Resources, Development, and Prospects of the Continent as Home of Man (New York: Harcourt, Braceland, and Co., 1925), 622; Floyd A. O'Neal, "Victims of Demand: The Vagaries of the Carbon County Coal Industry," in Philip F. Notarianni, ed., Carbon County: Eastern Utah's Industrial Island (Salt Lake City: Utah State Historical Society, 1981), 37.

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the same unconquerable pride that the author S h e r w o o d A n d e r s o n had n o t e d w h e n he visited another coal mine one year earlier. He stated, "There is something pathetic and at the same time magnificent in these men, the coal miners of America, in a certain something very hard to express but very real in them.... There is something distinct and real separating them now from the defeated factory hands of the cities. They are not defeated men."37 Like those in Anderson's writing, Lange's miner exhibits an inner strength: With his strong, tightly set jaw, this is an individual beset but not overcome by his problems. As this p h o t o g r a p h shows, Lange was expert at making her subjects appear dignified no matter how difficult their circumstance. R e f e r r i n g to her p h o t o g r a p h s of similar subjects, Lange said, "It's very hard to photograph a proud man against a background [of poverty], because it doesn't show what he's p r o u d about. I had to get my camera to Miner at Consumers. register the things about those people that were more important than how poor they were—their pride, their strength, their spirit."38 Everything around this miner reveals the reality of his situation. The rail car is black from its constant loads, and its ladder is well used and scuffed by continual climbing. The most noticeable element of poverty is his clothing. His pants are threadbare and torn at the knees. To stay warm above and below the earth he has layered three coats, which are stretched and torn. Everything contrasts sharply with the shiny lunch pail that glitters brightly against the darkness of the scene. Lange shows a man of sturdy build. Through a low camera angle, she monumentalizes him and gives him an air of strength and presence. This presence is enhanced by his direct eye contact with the camera. As Pare Lorentz notes, "Her people stand straight and look you in the eye. They have a simple dignity of people who have leaned against the wind." The man does not hang his head in humility or shame. Rather, his directed gaze forces an equality.39 37

Sherwood Anderson, Puzzled America (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1935), 17. Daniel Dixon, "Dorothea Lange," Modern Photography, December 1952, 138. 39 Lorentz, "Dorothea Lange: Camera with a Purpose," 67. See also Maurice Berger, "FSA:The Illiterate Eye (1985)," in How Art Becomes History: Essays on Art, Society, and Culture in Post-New Deal America (New York: Icon Editions, 1992), 7; Peter B. Hales, Silver Cities: The Photography of American Urbanization, 1839-1915 (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1984), 196; Robert Disraeli, "The Farm Security 38

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DOROTHEA LANGE

Miner's family in Consumers

Having symbolized the men of the mines with this photograph, Lange would now turn to their families.40 She found a family in front of a small home just off the main street. A n a r r o w w o o d e n plank over the snow draws the viewer's eye to the young woman and her little girl and boy. The m o t h e r looks at Lange curiously as her children play cautiously around her. The house is similar to its neighbors, small in size and pieced together with wooden boards and tarpaper. U n l i k e in m a n y of ***' I'^S'i* &mk Lange's p h o t o g r a p h s of homes in Consumers, this small house has a human counterpart. She shows the public an actual family and the conditions in which they were forced to live. In her notes she recorded the frustration of raising a family in this environment and the "deteriorating influence on families [of] these mining camps."41 In addition to the prostitution, disease, and drunken melees that plagued the coal camps, the miners and their families had to fear the constant threat of disasters such as the mine explosions of Winter Quarters in 1900 and Castle Gate in 1924.42 After photographing the family in front of their home, Lange withdrew a few feet and shot them crossing the boards over the snow and mud toward her. In a few steps the family would be standing on Consumer's main street, and Lange would now show the family within their community environment. In the next photograph, the family stands on slushy Main

Administration," a review of FSA photography, Photo Notes (May 1940), in New Deal Network at http://www.newdeal.feri.org, accessed in October 2001. 40 In her process of photographing the little family, Lange would work in a manner similar to that of her famous Migrant Mother series. Focusing on one family helped her epitomize an entire situation. Sec Curtis, Mind's Eye, chapter three. 41 Lange, Field Notes, 24. 42 Cannon, Life and Land, 4. See Allan Kent Powell, The Next Time We Strike: Labor in Utah's Coal Fields, 1900-1933 (Logan: Utah State University Press, 1985), chapters two and eight; J. Eldon Dorman, Reminiscences, 52-53; and Helen Z. Papanikolas, "Women in the Mining Communities of Carbon County," in Notarianni, ed., Carbon County.

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Street. They have stopped and stare directly into the camera. In contrast to the miserable homes lining the street, the family looks composed and neat. T h e mother's patterned dress contrasts sharply with the w o r n garments of the miner. In fact, the mother seems happy, and her little daughter smiles affectionately at the camera. For Lange, this image did not equal the desperation of the tarpapered shack, t h e g r i m e of M a i n Street, or t h e misery in the miner's eyes. To capture their real situation—or, rather, the situation she wanted to portray—Lange had to create an image that highlighted the difficulties of the family's circumstance. T h e next p h o t o g r a p h depicts the small family struggling through the snow and mud toward the photographer. This image captures everything Lange needed. 43 As they make their way up through the automobile ruts, one senses the real struggle of living in America's coal fields. Lange makes it seem as if they suffer from need as their inadequate shoes sink into the snow and mud. Despite the cold, they are out of doors without coats. The pleasant faces and smiles of the earlier photograph have turned into grimaces and misery. Only the little boy in his mother's arms remains fixed on Lange and her camera. His frowning straight-forward gaze, like that of the miner, connects directly with the viewer. In this photograph Lange has captured the essence of what she wanted to portray in Consumers. In her vision, this family has become an archetype for any poor coal mining family anywhere. It echoes Sherwood Anderson's observation of a similar situation elsewhere: There is grim poverty here. It is a cold bleak day but, in the field here, at the edge of the mining town, there are bare-legged miners' children running around. Their lips are blue with cold.They are ragged.They look underfed.... Miners' wives go in and out of little shacks. These miners' wives lose their beauty early. There has been hard-bitten life going on for years in this country. 44 43

This photograph could be a clear example of Lange's "help me—help you" approach. In looking at the entire series (especially the negative in Lange's private collection) and taking into account the layout of the town itself, it is fairly clear that Lange instructed the family to walk toward her. Whether this violated her stated "hands-off" policy or not is a matter for a deeper examination. For opposing views, see Dixon, "Dorothea Lange," 68, and Curtis, Mind's Eye, chapter three. 44 Anderson, Puzzled America, 8. In her quest to find complete images, Lange created prototypes, or even archetypes, that summed up an experience, an entire situation, or a general emotion. "Migrant

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Strength, determination, and will to overcome their hardships may be seen in Lange's last portrait of the family. In this, the closest examination of the family, the serious expressions are still present. T h e mother's face, in particular, reveals the stress of her situation and at the same time implies the strength required to survive. Lange creates the mother as the central figure that keeps this family together. Like Ma Joad in Steinbeck's Grapes of Wrath, Lange's mother represents the "citadel of the family," the place that could not be taken. 45 Through her embrace, she symbolizes the courage and strength that keeps the family together. From Consumers, Lange traveled south to her next assignment, the documentation of the Widtsoe Resettlement Project. W h e n Lange arrived in Widtsoe, she found a town already on the edge of decay. Today that decay is almost complete. Wandering through the quiet streets, one can hardly imagine that this ghost town was once a thriving community. The hotels, stores, and church are now nothing but piles of weathered lumber lying on primitive cement foundations. The few buildings that remain stand precariously, hollow reminders of the city's prosperity and its turn toward ruin. T h e town of Widtsoe is located in the highlands of Johns Valley, just north of Bryce Canyon. It is a valley colored gray with sage and dotted with juniper. Unlike that in the fertile valleys of the Wasatch Front, the soil in this high valley is weak and susceptible to erosion. Despite this, however, the first M o r m o n settlers began coming to the area in 1876. The desire to settle the rather hostile environment of Widtsoe was not based solely on the constant search for new land but was also driven by a sense of spiritual destiny. The settlers of Widtsoe were among the many who desired to build up the "waste places of Zion" into a new corner of the kingdom even though official calls to colonize regions had ceased. Commenting on this pioneer trait of Mormonism, Wallace Stegner writes of lands like Johns Valley, "It was a sanctuary, it was a refuge. Nobody else wanted it, nobody but a determined and God-supported people could live in it." He continues, "Settle it then, in God's name, and build the kingdom." 46 This was the attitude of promise that the people ofWidtsoe possessed. They believed that they could settle this area and through God's help could turn it into their own corner of Zion. This belief was further buoyed by M o r m o n apostle Melvin J. Ballard's promise that the valley would be a Garden of Eden if its inhabitants kept God's commandments and stayed out of debt.47 Mother" is the most obvious example. In that photograph Lange used the mother and her three children to epitomize the plight of an entire migrant people. See Margaret G.Weiss, "Recording Life-in-Process," Saturday Review, March 5,1966, found in Lange, The Making of a Documentary Photographer, 257. 45 John Steinbeck, The Grapes of Wrath (1939; reprint, N e w York: Penguin Books, 1976), 95-96. 46 Wallace Stegner, Mormon Country (NewYork: Bonanza Books, 1942), 51. 47 Brian Q. Cannon, "Remaking the Agrarian Dream: The New Deal's Rural Resettlement Program in Utah" (Master's thesis, Utah State University, 1986), 20; Brian Q. Cannon, "Struggle Against the Odds: Challenges in Utah's Marginal Agricultural Areas, 1925-39," Utah Historical Quarterly 54 (FaU 1986): 320. See also Karl C. Sandberg, "Telling the Tales and Telling the Truth: Writing the History of Widtsoe," Dialogue: A Journal of Mormon Thought 26 (Winter 1993): 103-104. The town received the name of Widtsoe

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Widtsoe Mormon

church.

By 1920, W i d t s o e had become a thriving community with a population of more than 1,100. T h e city b o a s t e d t w o h o t e l s , four s t o r e s , a p o s t office, a M o r m o n church, a social < hall, and many houses. | T h e r e was even talk of ยง moving the county seat to t h e t o w n . At its p e a k , Widtsoe's grain crop was greater than that grown in the rest of Garfield County combined. O n e resident remembered that the "whole of Johns Valley [was] a waving field of grain." Another Widtsoan, Quincy Kimball, remembered plentiful farms that produced peas, beans, strawberries, lettuce, and "turnips weighing seven and eight pounds." 48 Johns Valley, however, would prove hostile to the promise of Zion. The initial success eventually soured by the mid-1920s as changing climate cycles and soil limitations proved too much to bear. Widtsoe's high elevation only allowed for a short growing season between harsh winters. Adding to the difficulties were year-round frosts that plagued the harvests. After many taxing years of farming, the once-ample soil became depleted of its nutrients. Paul Taylor, who traveled to Widtsoe with Lange, recorded the recollections of one farmer, "This land used to raise forty bushels of w h e a t to the acre, but it w o n ' t now." T h e w o r s e n i n g circumstances impelled many citizens to abandon the town. O n e "stalwart young man" told the couple, "My father came here with $7,000, worked hard, and lost it all."49 The land had become so unprofitable that eventually 85 percent of the families were on relief. The city that had once had so much promise was slowly becoming a ghost town. N o longer able to cope, the townspeople presented a petition to the government for federal aid in 1934. By July 1, 1935, Widtsoe was turned over to the R A as a resettlement project. T h e primary goal of the R A was the resettlement of the residents to farms across Utah where they could "gain a greater amount of independence, happiness, and achievement than any other manner they had ever been able to obtain." For Taylor this was an experiment that removed people "from lands where their future is hopeless in 1917 in honor of John A. Widtsoe, an expert in dry-farming techniques and future apostle of the LDS church. 48 Carr, Utah Ghost Towns, 122; Linda King Newell and Vivian Linford Talbot, The History of Garfield County (Salt Lake City: Utah Historical Society, 1998), 277-78; Salt Lake Tribune, May 3, 1938. 49 Taylor, "Ground Up," 527.

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to others where a good life is possible."50 W h e n Dorothea Lange arrived in Widtsoe in early April 1936, O m e r Mills, the regional officer of the R A , had labeled the town a "Great Worry," and agents were scrambling to find land for the clients.51 The situation was growing progressively worse. Lange's purpose in coming to Widtsoe was to document the actions of her agency and to make the controversial program look as necessary as possible. To accomplish this, she not only photographed the need for resettlement but also captured the human experience of resettlement. To catch such expressions, she used her exceptional skills and acute sympathetic perception, already demonstrated in Consumers, to document the polar emotions of anxiety/sorrow and hope. To d o c u m e n t the conditions of the resettlement Lange took many panoramas of the town and its environs, or, as Lange called the area, the "purchase area."52 Each of the photographs emphasized the bleak landscape and local architecture that was already in decay, often ignoring structures that were in relatively good shape, such as the home of D. W Woodard, which still stands today.53 Despite the arrival of spring, the ground was still blanketed with snow. As she had done in Consumers, she took advantage of the harsh elements to emphasize and even exaggerate the hostile conditions of the town. An example is the photograph captioned "Farm Home, in the FSA land use project purchase area." In the foreground of this image, Lange emphasizes the barren furrows filled not with budding crops but with snow. The dilapidated home in the background appears no more productive and almost seems abandoned. In such images, Lange accentuated the plight of the people in Widtsoe. Her images are testimonies that these families should be moved to their new farms and not trapped in this frozen landscape. In visually implying the poverty of a family farm, the backbone of ideal agrarian life, Lange sought to show that America's farm families were in desperate need of aid. She dispelled the myth that poverty did not exist on the farm. In her field book she recorded the frustrations of one unidentified resident: "People jist been settin' here waitin' and hopin'." 54 Because of bureaucratic delay, the people of Widtsoe were being forced to make do on farms that they would have to abandon instantly when the time for their move came. Emotionally, they were torn between the hope of looking to the future and, at the same time, the pain of letting the town decay into the past. There was no reason to spend money on homes that they would be leaving in the near future, homes that would be torn down in a matter of days, weeks, or months. 50

Cannon, "Remaking the Agrarian Dream," 144; Land Policy Circular (Washington, D C : Resettlement Administration, April 1936), 7;Taylor, "From the Ground Up," 526. 51 Cannon, "Remaking the Agrarian Dream," 148. 52 Caption, LC-USF34-001327-C 53 Carr, Utah Ghost Towns, 123. 54 Lange, Field Notes, 27A. Lange always tried to record as accurately as possible the verbal expressions of her subjects; consequently, the notes often take on a "folk speak" quality. See Heyman, Celebrating the Collection, 98.

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Mother and daughter in Widtsoe.

In addition to the many photographs Lange took of the land, she made only two images that focused solely on the townspeople.55 However, the two p h o tographs perfectly sum up the two contrasting e m o tions of resettlement: hope and agony. The first p h o t o graph stands in sharp contrast to the rest. While most of the photographs m o u r n t h e r e s e t t l e m e n t of t h e town, this one radiates hope and optimism in the uncertain future. The photograph is of a young m o t h e r and d a u g h t e r standing in t h e weathered doorway of their house. The inviting mother smiles down at her daughter, who seems happy and content. Lange's subjects are clean and well dressed. The mother stands in her apron and the daughter in her bib, suggesting that the home interior is clean and ordered. 56 L a n g e ' s l o n g e r - t h a n - n o r m a l c a p t i o n of t h e p h o t o g r a p h r e a d s : "Resettlement clients to be moved from the area to a farm in another county. Site not yet determined where they will have better land and a hopeful future. These people have been in distress throughout the valley."57 For Lange, the mother and daughter represent a ghmmer of hope—a future that can only be obtained elsewhere—for the people of Widtsoe. T h e image is carefully constructed propaganda that casts a positive light on the actions of the R A . The smiling faces represent a trust in the government and its programs. For the second human portrait, Lange photographed an elderly woman walking down one ofWidtsoe's dirt roads. (See page 39.) She captioned the 55 There are others who appear in her photographs, but these are not close-up, intimate portraits. Instead, those who do appear—postmistress Madge Young Nielson and an unidentified couple (who appear only in her personal negatives stored in the Oakland Museum)—are only a part of the general landscape of the city itself. 56 Capturing women and their children in the doorways of their homes was a device commonly used by the photographers in the R A and later in the FSA. For instance, compare Arthur Rothstein's similar yet opposing "Sharecropper's Wife and Child, Washington County, Arkansas, 1935," LC-USF33-002022-M4. See also Theodore Jung, LC-USF-33-4038-M1, and Ben Shahn, LC-USF-33-6 57 Caption, L C - U S F - 3 4 - 1 3 2 3 - C

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photograph: " M o r m o n Woman, a native of Denmark receiving her first old age pay check." If the family in the doorway symbolizes hope, the second reveals the agony of the town's failure. While the woman standing in the doorway is young, happy, and full of life, the second is old and sad. If the portrait of the young family idealistically represents the glowing future, the image of the second woman signifies the despair of the past. Both fulfilled the propagandistic needs of the R A . The photograph of the old woman evokes the despair of these victims and seeks to garner support for their plight. The other offers the viewer hope for these "good" people through government intervention. The older woman, whose name is Christine Maria Hansen Snyder—a M o r m o n convert who traveled alone from Copenhagen to Utah at the age of fourteen 58 —is starkly centered in the foreground as she stands helplessly before Lange's camera. The photograph, taken quickly with Lange's smaller camera, reveals a woman whose face and hands are worn and wrinkled and whose hair is white. 59 The snap of the lens seems to have captured the decisive moment when she appeared the saddest. The aged woman, with her fur-collared coat tightly bundled around her and her purse in hand, stands in sharp contrast to the barren empty expanse behind her. She, like the women and children of Consumers, is an example of the faultless poor who suffer not because of laziness but because of forces beyond their control. The photograph of the Danish woman does not exude unbridled hope and optimism for the future. Rather, it reveals the sadness and loss involved in the removal. Her downcast eyes, frowning expression, and closed body language illustrate a woman whose dignity and pride seem damaged by the difficult circumstances. For more than thirty years, Snyder and her family fought against the elements to try to make this area flourish. Their efforts, however, were ultimately futile, as the area became hostile rather than replenishing. In Snyder one may sense, as Brian Cannon stated, the agony "generated during the aftermath of resettlement, disrupted traditional values such as home, community, faith in God's promises, and self reliance for economic security."60 Her sorrow and loss are further accentuated by the fact that her first

58

Mabel Nielson and Audrie C. Ford, Johns Valley: The Way We Saw It (Springville, U T : Art City Publishing Co., 1971), 217-18. After finding what I believed was a picture of Snyder in Nielson's and Ford's book, I was not certain whether it was the same woman Lange photographed. Since then, two of her relatives, her grandson Leo Twitchell and his sister-in-law Marjorie Twitchell, have both told me through phone interviews that Lange's subject is indeed Snyder. Snyder and her family arrived in Johns Valley in 1905, and, in a sense, Snyder never left. In 1939, she passed away and was buried in the small cemetery located just south of town. The cemetery is one of the last surviving vestiges of the town itself. It is regularly visited, and former Widtsoe town members are still buried in its dry ground today. 59 Lange typically used a more cumbersome 4 X 5 inch Graflex, but for quick shots she would sometimes use a 2 1 / 4 X 2 1/4. For technical details on Lange's use of cameras and film, see Karin Becker Ohrn, Dorothea Lange and the Documentary Tradition (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, V. 72, and Daniel Dixon, "Dorothea Lange," 77. 60 Cannon, Life and Land, 5.

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old-age assistance check is clenched tightly in her hands. 61 In the seventyseven-year-old Snyder, Lange shows a woman w h o appears shamed, as Cannon states, by the "stigma and dependence that cash relief carried in her small-town M o r m o n culture."62 For Christine Snyder, this reluctantly accepted check was an absolute necessity: It represented her only means of survival as well as the loss of her independent pioneer spirit. H e r oncestrong hands, which had helped everyone in her community, could now no longer sustain her. In Utah this attached stigma was statewide. W h e n the Social Security Act was first initiated in Utah, only 504 out of 1,000 people eligible actually accepted their checks.63 In the opinion of the R A , the Widtsoe resettlement was a tremendous success. With it, the government successfully accomplished its goals, removing the farmers to better agricultural areas, providing loans to help them pay for better farms, and letting the land recover from years of overuse. L. H. Hauter of the R A regional office in Berkeley considered Widtsoe a "showcase project" and a model for future programs. In fact, the R A was so proud of the project's final success that it calendared tours of the site.64 Widtsoe was not only a showcase within the R A but it also became a showcase for the nation. It was to demonstrate to America that the PJ\'s Resettlement Program was efficient and effective.65 In April 1937, only one month after the town's complete abandonment, an article that appeared in the progressive magazine Nation's Business included three of Lange's photographs. Written by Khyber Forrester, it was entitled "Mercy Death for Towns: Widtsoe Utah Taken off the Map." In essence, the article was both a justification of the project and a public disclosure of one of the RA's most controversial programs. Forrester began, If a town isn't a going concern and can't be made a profitable business institution for the benefit of its citizens—wipe it off the map. That's the latest technique in U t a h where the town of Widtsoe, in Garfield County, has been p u t out of its misery much as a kindly owner might chloroform an ailing dog. W h e t h e r it may set a precedent to be followed elsewhere is, of course, uncertain but the abandonment of Widtsoe is significant b e c a u s e it shows that a c o m m u n i t y can b e closed if it fails to justify its existence. 66 "Assistance to those age sixty-five or older began in the 1936 fiscal year. Utah was the first in the Union to receive all the benefits of the Social Security Act; see Wayne Hinton, " T h e Economics of Ambivalence: Utah's Depression," Utah Historical Quarterly 54 (September 1986): 282-85; see also Statutes at Large of the United States ofAmerica,Vo\. XLIX part 1 (January 1935-June 1936), 620-23. 62 Cannon, Life and Land, 6. See also Lowry Nelson, The Mormon Village: A Pattern and Technique of Land Settlement (Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, 1952), 124. 63 Bluth and Hinton, "The Great Depression," 483. 64 Cannon, "Remaking the Agrarian Dream," 130; Garfield County News, June 4, May 28, 1937. Widtsoe was not the only site scheduled for tours on June 11 and 12, 1937; caravans also were to visit the Tropic Dam. During the tours, local townspeople and R A and state officials, including Governor Blood, were to receive an "explanation of all costs and advantages" of the RA's work. Despite the interest, however, the tours were postponed and later canceled. 65 For those in Widtsoe, the program, as stated briefly above, was anything but smooth. See Sandberg, "Telling the Tales," 103. 66 Khyber Forrester, "Mercy Death for Towns: Widtsoe Utah Taken off the Map," Nation's Business 25 (April 1,1937): 64.

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Absent from the article are the pictures of the human consequences of removal.67 Lange's intimate portraits of the hopeful young mother or the sorrowful Christine Snyder do not appear. Such photographs were probably carefully edited out. To support the positive stance on resettlement, Forrester or the editor chose photographs that removed the possibility of sympathy and that showed a ghost town instead of a radical experiment dealing with human beings.68 It was, as Karl Sandberg argues, an outsiders' view that saw only poverty in place of the way the Widtsoans saw themselves—hardworking and honest.69 From Widtsoe, Lange headed east to the small M o r m o n hamlet of Escalante, a struggling little town that was enduring the lingering effects of the Great Depression. She was no doubt curious whether Escalante would fall to a fate similar to Widtsoe's. The Escalante community would provide Lange an opportunity to view how the small M o r m o n towns scattered throughout her region were surviving the prolonged trials of the tumultuous 1930s. There are many reasons why Lange could have chosen Escalante. The first was that Escalante was a "Potential Irrigation Resettlement Area," a fact she reported in a letter to Stryker.70 Escalante was also the site where her young friend, the artist and wanderer Everett Reuss, had last been seen one and a half years earlier.71 Additionally, Escalante was a perfect case study for the same two reasons that had originally appealed to sociologist (and, later, RJV colleague) Lowry Nelson in 1923: its typical M o r m o n characteristics and its isolation.72 The contemporary Works Progress Administration Guide to the State termed Escalante an "Old fashioned M o r m o n community" where local ecclesiastical authorities still presided as civic leaders.

" T h e r e is one figure present in Forrester's article: Madge Young Nielson, the postmistress. Unlike in the two portraits discussed above, Lange captured her at a distance, and the photo does not reveal the emotions of the situation. See photo on page 2. 68 This experimentation is precisely what A. F. Bracken, Utah's land planning consultant for the National Resource Board, hoped to avoid when he suggested that the R A take control of the Widtsoe situation. He understood that resettlement was "experimenting with human individuals." See A.F. Bracken, State Report on Land Use—Study for Utah (Salt Lake City?: n.p., 1935), 145. 69 Sandberg, "Telling the Tales," 101. 70 Lange to Stryker, fall 1936, Roy Stryker Collection, University of Louisville. According to A. F. Bracken, a partial reclamation of the land was at least necessary; see A. F. Bracken, Utah Report on the Extent and Character of Desirable Adjustment in Rural Land—Use and Settlement Area (Salt Lake City?: n.p., 1934), 23. Escalante historian Jerry Roundy, however, believes that resettlement was never a true concern or option for the town; Jerry Roundy to the author, May 11, 2001, e-mail transcript in possession of the author. 71 See W L. Rusho, Everett Ruess:A Vagabond for Beauty (Salt Lake City: Gibbs-Smith Publisher, 1983), 113-15, 118, 136, 182. Not only was Ruess a friend of both Dorothea Lange and her husband Maynard Dixon but Lange also became a motherly figure to the young man. 72 Nelson was a friend as well as a fellow R A employee; see Lowry Nelson, In the Direction of His Dreams: Memoirs (NewYork: Philosophical Library, 1985), 236-69, and Lowry Nelson, The Mormon Village: A Pattern and Technique of Land Settlement (Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, 1952), 83. Nelson's research was a time study, with his initial visit to Escalante in 1923. He returned in 1950 to report how the town had changed through the depression, World War II, etc.

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Couple in Escalante.

Escalante was also isolated from the outside world by both distance and topography. As Lange learned, State R o a d 23 was the only way of getting to the town; in h e r field notes she c o m mented that Escalante had only "1 road" in or out and it was "83 miles to nearest R.R." 73 Despite its visible signs of strength, Escalante suffered during the Great Depression. In the words of one resident that Lange recorded, Escalante had endured " O n e depression after another." By 1935 about two-thirds of the residents were receiving government relief. W h e n Lange arrived in April 1936, the community was still struggling from the plummeting price of livestock, heavy debt, the effects of the Taylor Grazing Act, and a lack of cash flow. In addition, the town was also reeling from the effects of the 1934 drought. Lange's field notes reflect a sense of need and urgency. Twice in her notes she recorded the need for a local dam to help with the fluctuations in yearly rainfalls and even the need for a "cannin (sic) factory."74 Despite its problems, the town survived. Like other struggling communities, Escalante possessed a defiant spirit of self-sufficiency and a sense of community as well as a permanence that was not visible in Lange's earlier Utah assignments. By working together, the residents were able to overcome their hardships. If members of the community were lacking, others came to their aid, ensuring that no one in the community went hungry. 75 W h e n Lange arrived, the hardships of the depression were evident, and yet her p h o t o g r a p h s do n o t dwell on t h e t o w n ' s difficulties. R a t h e r , the photographs show a people who were successfully enduring the depression. This permanence is illustrated in the three people Lange photographed for the RA's files. T h e first, a ninety-four-year-old immigrant from Denmark, is shown standing defiantly in front of a humble old home, 73 WPA Utah Writers' Program, Utah: A Guide to the State (New York: Hastings House, 1941), 340; Lange, Field Notes, 26. 74 Lange, Field Notes, 26—27; Jerry Roundy, 'Advised Them to Call the Place Escalante" (Springville, Utah: Art City Publishing, 2000), 253-56, 262-63; Nelson, The Mormon Village, 110. In 1934 Utah averaged nine inches of average rainfall, four inches below normal. Nationwide, rainfall was only 35 percent of normal in that same year. Utah fared slightly better at 51 percent of normal, but combined with record—breaking heat, the drought of 1934 was particularly devastating; see Leonard Arrington, "Utah's Great Drought of 1934," Utah Historical Quarterly 54 (Summer 1986): 245-64. 75 Cannon, Life and Land, 6; Roundy, "Advised Them to Call the Place Escalante," 253; Roundy correspondence.

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dressed in his Sunday clothes. Like this man, Main Street and an irrigation another elderly couple she p h o t o g r a p h e d ditch, Escalante, 1936. symbolizes the pioneer virtues of the town. Lange notes that both husband and wife were eighty-five years old and converts to the LDS church from South Africa.76 Through Lange's p h o tographs these three people become living examples of Escalante's trials, longevity, and endurance. Their well-kept "church" clothing demonstrates their dedication and diligence to their religion. Together they reveal the strength of the community. In another joint portrait, the same couple sit before a brick wall. In this second portrait Lange reiterates the qualities of the couple—their strength, hope, age, and vitality. But also, by including a brick edifice, Lange highlights the permanence of the town itself. The brick wall creates a drastic contrast to the w o r n wooden buildings of Widtsoe or the tarpaper of Consumers. Escalante, like Widtsoe, was a frontier town, and yet Lange seems to be suggesting that, unlike Widtsoe, this small town will survive—a fact that she correctly predicted. In her work in Escalante, Lange was not only to show a people defiant to the depression; she also took the opportunity to emphasize the elements of the town that were distinctively M o r m o n . Lange was already quite familiar with M o r m o n settlements, More specifically, she was particularly 76 All of the i n f o r m a t i o n a b o u t this c o u p l e is from Lange's c a p t i o n for p h o t o g r a p h L C - U S F - 3 4 - 0 0 1 3 4 3 - C Jerry Roundy questions whether Lange was correct in the couple's origin; he has never heard of any early residents from South Africa. Additionally, Lange mentions in the caption of another photograph of the same woman (LC-USF34-001345-C) that she was the first schoolteacher in Escalante. If that is the case, the woman would be Jane Coleman, who was not from South Africa. Roundy correspondence.

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UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

The Mormon church in Escalante.

familiar w i t h t h e small c o m m u n i t i e s of s o u t h e r n Utah. T h r o u g h her travels she knew the arid terrain, the towns, and the people of these M o r m o n communities. She k n e w of their strengths and the economic a n d social r e s i l i e n c y of these settlements, and, like o t h e r travelers, she k n e w the characteristic signs of M o r m o n town life.77 In his book The Mormon Landscape, Richard Francaviglia outlines ten elements c o m m o n to the M o r m o n •I '-;'-'.;> .'- " V ' *" - "" town: wide streets, roadside irrigation ditches, barns inside the town, unpainted farm buildings, open fields around the town, hay derricks, the " M o r m o n fence" made of crude unpainted components, a distinctive domestic architecture style, a high percentage of brick homes, and the M o r m o n ward chapel. Lange photographed nine of the ten elements in Escalante alone. From the layout of the city to its wide streets and irrigation ditches, her photographs read like visual descriptors of a typical M o r m o n community. In fact, in the outline she sent to Stryker, she summarized her work in Escalante as "A study of the M o r m o n Village of Escalante, Utah—Farm village community." 78 Lange's purpose in documenting the M o r m o n landscape must have been to enrich the files of the R A . Stryker had hoped that in addition to showing the poor and destitute his team could also record every aspect of American culture. His goal was to show "Americans to America"—the 77 In 1933, Lange and her husband Maynard Dixon had spent two months traveling through southern Utah. They lived with Mormons, traveled through their towns, and even left their boys with a Mormon family in Toquerville. I submit that her vision of Utah in 1936 was directly shaped by this earlier visit to the state. For Lange's thoughts of and experiences in Utah, see Sandra S. Phillips, et al., Dorothea Lange: American Photographs (San Francisco: Chronicle Books, 1994), 32, and Meltzer, Dorothea Lange, 78. See also Dorothea Lange, Daniel Dixon, and Ansel Adams, "Three M o r m o n Towns," Life, September 6, 1954, 91-100. 78 Richard Francaviglia, The Mormon Landscape: Existence, Creation, and Perception of Unique Image in the American West (New York: AMS Press Inc., 1978), 67-68ff; Lange to Stryker, fall 1936, Roy Stryker Collection.The only indicator of the Mormon landscape that Lange did not photograph was the hay derrick, but according to Francaviglia, Mormon derricks are not common to the Escalante area anyway. Russell Lee would photograph a derrick, or "Mormon hay Stacker," for the FSA four years later in Box Elder County (LC-USF-34-37288-D).

60


DOROTHEA LANGE

migrants in California, the baker in Texas, the steel worker in Pennsylvania, and the M o r m o n farmer in Utah. 79 Unlike Consumers and Widtsoe, where little now remains, it is possible in Escalante to see the extent to which Lange's work is an interpretation of the town and not a mirror of its reality. In that sense, Escalante allows one to see the extent of Lange's visual editing. She did not show Escalante as a young, busy, and industrious town. Rather, she emphasized the town's permanence and its M o r m o n pioneer heritage. These two virtues were not wrongly assigned to the city; they are definitely a part of the town's identity. Yet in Lange's portrait of the town these two qualities came to dominate all other aspects. With this focus, Lange's Escalante becomes decidedly slanted and incomplete. Overall, her portrait of Escalante makes it appear empty and abandoned. In "Approach to the Church" and "Main Street and town center," the streets are completely bare and the town buildings are completely silent. Main Street and its stores appear more like a ghost town than a town surviving the depression. Another Lange photograph, taken in 1951, shows the same church she photographed during 1936. 80 This 1951 image is teeming with life and activity as scores of children parade down the gravel sidewalks of Meeting House Hill toward Main Street, but in Lange's 1936 photographs all of this activity is completely removed. Ironically, the city was anything but empty in 1936. Only four years later, in 1940, the city reached its highest population ever, with a total of 1,161 residents.81 W h e n the residents saw Lange's images, they were very displeased. Delia Christiansen, a longtime resident, remembers being angry about how Lange portrayed her town. "She made us look like the poorest town in the world," she says. "The town was damn mad. If you starved to death it was your own fault." 82 N o t only did Lange portray the town as nearly deserted but she also showed it as old. In fact, her portrait of Escalante focuses only on the older pioneer generation; the three people she photographed for the R A/ F S A files were all age eighty-five or older. Ironically, at the time, 73 percent of the town was age thirty-four or younger. 83 Lange's selection of homes to 79 Roy Stryker and Nancy Wood, In This Proud Land: America 1935-1943 as Seen in the FSA Photographs (NewYork: Graphic Society, 1973), 9; Russell Lee,"Pie Town, N. M.," US Camera, October 1941, 40. 80 This photograph could have been taken when Lange returned to do preliminary work for her Guggenheim Award. For this award, she looked at Utopian religious communities such as the Mormon settlements, Amana colonies, and the Hutterites. See Phillips, et al., Dorothea Lange: American Photographs, 79. 81 Nelson, The Mormon Village, 95. 82 Delia Christiansen, interview by the author, August 1999, Escalante, Utah; notes in possession of the author. The people of Escalante saw Lange's images in an unknown publication that I have yet to find. What is interesting is that townspeople like Christiansen knew exactly what I was talking about when I mentioned the "depression photographs." With Mrs. Christiansen I barely mentioned the photographs before she told me all about them in clear detail. 83 Nelson, The Mormon Village, 116. The photographs of Bishop Harvey Bailey, the only younger member of the town Lange photographed, remained buried in her private collection and were not sent to Washington, D C During his brief stay in Escalante, Everett Ruess noted the many residents his own age.

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UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

photograph may also be called into question. At the time, and even now, Escalante had a number of well-built red brick homes bordering its wide streets. These houses, most of which were built before 1910, were finely crafted with ornate carpentry and walls often several bricks thick.84 But Lange focused on homes of an older generation. Instead of showing the best the town had to offer, she showed the town the way she pictured it, as a pioneer town, old and deserted—not the vibrant town it was. Lange was to return to Utah as a government photographer on only one more occasion, in August 1938. At the time of her return, the nature of the Historical Section had fundamentally changed. Instead of focusing on the poverty of America's rural population, which Stryker feared was producing a false impression of farm life, he decided that his group should look at what was right in America. Stryker wanted to show an America that was not defeated by the depression; he hoped to produce a positive "visual account of how America's farmers live, work, play, eat, and sleep."85 Lange's last official image of Utah is in keeping with this new focus. Taken in the vicinity of Springdale, Lange's caption reads, "Utah farm family in the orchard at the peach harvest." (See page 3.) The image shows a family surrounded by their harvest, escaping the August heat by sitting in the shade. They appear clean, prosperous, and content—if not happy. Their prosperity is accentuated by the ample baskets of peaches that fill the foreground of the photograph. In all, the photograph is a far cry from her 1\A work done in 1936. The Springdale family is a stunning contrast to the small family in Consumers. This is prosperity, not poverty. The lifeless landscapes of Widtsoe are here replaced with an image of harvest. The photograph seems to suggest that Roosevelt's New Deal did what it promised; it restored prosperity and good times. Lange's 1936 photographs, however, have come to symbolize the Great Depression in Utah. Textbooks of Utah history contain the images of Christine Marie Hansen Snyder and the mining family of Consumers.86 Yet hers was a selective portrait. Each photograph, whether of Consumers, Widtsoe, or Escalante, was carefully crafted to communicate her own personal altruistic ideology and the needs of the RA/FSA. These portraits may not have adequately represented the actual situation or the complete reality of the area, yet they represent a vision that, like that of all photographers whether in 1936 or 2002, was designed to convey a certain message to its viewer. He had many young companions and even noted that if he were to stay much longer he might have "fallen in love with a Mormon girl"; see Rusho, Vagabond for Beauty, 176-80. 84 Christiansen interview. In photographing the church on the hill, Lange would have had two elegant homes directly at her back.Yet Lange ignored these homes and instead photographed the older log homes that were some of the first homes to be built in the area; see Sheila Woolley, Walking Tours of Pioneer Homes and Barns, brochure published by Daughters of Utah Pioneers and the City of Escalante. 85 Hartley E. Howe, "Have You Seen Their Faces?" Survey Graphic 29 (April 1940): 236.This change was boosted by Stryker's connection with Robert Lynd, co-author of Middletown. See Hurley, Portrait of a Decade, 96-98, and Edward Steichen, "The FSA Photographers," US Camera 1 (1939): 46-60. 86 See S. George Ellsworth, Utah's Heritage (Salt Lake City: Peregrine Smith Books, 1992), and Alexander, Utah: The Right Place, 309ff. See also Utah Historical Quarterly 68 (Spring 2000): 98ff.

62


Hecatomb at Castle Gate, Utah, March 8, 1924 By PHILIP F. NOTARIANNI; photos from the collection of Bill and Albert Fossat

T

wo explosions rocked the silence on Saturday morning, March 8, 1924, in the coal-mining town of Castle Gate, Utah. The entire work force of 171 men "were victims of two violent explosions that shot t h r o u g h the m i n e t u r n i n g the main tunnels into gigantic cannon barrels." 1 Frantic townspeople, hearing and feeling the reverberations, hurried to the portal of the Number 2 mine. Soon, rescuers rushed to the site from other Carbon County towns to embark on a difficult task. In the rescue process, one other man succumbed to the deadly gas, bringing the total dead to 172. Grieving widows, children left without fathers, and distraught family, friends, and neighbors remained to attend funerals or accompany bodies to other locations. Graves dug in the cemetery at Castle Gate peppered the landscape, and wooden coffins were stacked in readiness near makeshift morgues. The entire site played as a gruesome reminder of the dangers of coal mining and the frailty of human life. This photographic essay, comprised of images from the collection of Bill and Albert Fossat of Helper, Utah, focuses specifically on the aftermath of the explosion. T h e rarely seen photos, many first published in the Salt Lake Tribune, help to chronicle scenes of individuals gathered in hopeful-fearful anticipation, the mine entry and recovery process, funeral preparations, and burial procedures. T h e images speak for themselves. Captions assist in providing context and interpretation. Excerpts from the Deseret News and the Salt Lake Tribune provide contemporary accounts of the disaster.

Philip F. Notarianni is the public programs coordinator for the Utah State Historical Society. 1 Allan Kent Powell, The Next Time We Strike: Labor in Utah's Coal Fields, 1900-1933 (Logan: Utah State University Press, 1985), 141. This volume contains the best overall account of the Castle Gate explo-

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UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

CROWDS GATHERING IN HOPEFUL ANTICIPATION " T h e o n e street of this little coal m i n i n g t o w n today was crowded with relatives and friends of the 175 [number initially believed in the mine] miners entombed in No. 2 mine of the Utah Fuel company."2

Miners and company officials quickly gathered at the mine's entrance.

"A m a j o r i t y of t h e m e n entombed in mine No. 2 of the Utah Fuel company at Castlegate by explosions Saturday will be taken out alive in the event they were not in the immediate vicinity of the blasts, is the belief of J. Parley Russel, assistant engineer of the company."3

"At portal No. 1 were two young girls about 10 or 12 years of age and in their arms they had a small baby. T h e i r father and o l d e r brother were among those listed as in the mine." 4

Townspeople sought answers and gathered to hear any word of the situation. 2 3 4

64

Salt Lake Tribune, March 10, 1924. Deseret News, March 8, 1924. Salt LakeTribune, March 10, 1924.


HECATOMB AT CASTLE GATE

" O n the front steps of many of t h e m i n e r s ' h o m e s sat t h r o u g h o u t most of today w o m e n and children w h o had loved ones in the mine. O n e young w o m a n with a small baby in her arms was walking about town most of this morning and this afternoon until she was taken by friends, crying 'I want to go to him.' It was explained her husband was in the mine." 5

"Dawn found the small one m a i n street of t h e t o w n teeming with anxious friends and relatives of the men still remaining in the mine. The bulletin board u p o n which t h e n a m e s of t h e b o d i e s recovered are posted immediately u p o n identification and which is placed in the r e c r e a t i o n a l hall was surrounded by anxious ones."6

Salvation Army personnel quickly set up tents to aid in the rescue attempt and in any other way possible. The Salt Lake Tribune identified these tents as "temporary quarters for bodies of victims."

Ibid. Deseret News, March 11, 1924.

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UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

ENTRY INTO THE MINE AND THE RECOVERY PROCESS " H u n d r e d s were g a t h e r e d a r o u n d t h e K n i g h t s of Pythias hall, the temporary morgue, and at the entrance of the Castlegate canyon, in w h i c h the mine is located and which has been closed to all but those engaged in rescue or relief work, mine officials and n e w s p a p e r "7

men.

Mine rescue crews arrived and tested for methane gas before entering the mine.

The explosion indeed acted as a giant cannon hurling debris and poles out of the mine to be scattered on the

7 8 9

66

mountainside.

Salt LakeTribune, March 10, 1924. Ibid. Deseret News, March 13, 1924.

barrel,

" T h e e x p l o s i o n b l e w an 800-pound steel door at the entrance of the escapeway a distance of half a mile across Castlegate canyon. Too, there w e r e t i m b e r s and o t h e r refuse littered about." 8

"A small mule hitched to six coal cars was p l o d d i n g its way into the depths w h e n the explosions occurred. The concussion lifted the mule bodily, threw the animal over five of the empty cars and deposited it dead, in the sixth car.... The cars were not dislodged from the tracks and the mule bore scarcely no marks of violence." 9


HECATOMB AT CASTLE GATE

"As t h e day of feverish rescue work and bitter anxiety wore on, it became more and more apparent that only a miracle will allow any of the 175 men to get out alive. Officials of the company and rescue leaders have virtually given up hope."10

• • ; . '

Crews of rescue workers amid crowds and tents prepare to embark on a dangerous

makeshift

journey.

Ibid., March 10,1924.

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UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

"As sweating miners w i t h lamp-lit caps emerged from the shadows of the t u n n e l with their comrades' bodies, up above them on the road, a h u n d r e d yards away, this morning stood for a time a g r o u p of wailing w o m e n , wives of alien miners w h o lifted their appeals for mercy to the heavens. " O d o l o r mia, o d o l o r mia [oh my pain, o my pain], cried Italians, while Austrians and Serbians wept out their grief in their own tongues. "It became necessary to send t h e m h o m e ; t h e i r unrestrained sorrow was too contagious." 11

Rescue workers may have entered the mine with some optimism, but they emerged exhausted and disappointed. 11

68

Salt Lake Tribune, March 11, 1924.


HECATOMB AT CASTLE GATE

Horse-drawn coal cars exited the mine carrying what remains of miners could be recovered, as well as debris from the explosion.

"The seven bodies recovered and brought to the morgue up to noon were black from p o i s o n o u s gas. T h e t w o unidentified were minus heads and otherwise mutilated."12

Every able-bodied man, both miner and company official, helped wherever needed. The manhole of the mine became blackened by the explosion. Surface holes were dug to let murderous methane gas escape.

12

Ibid., March 10,1924.

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UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

FUNERAL PREPARATIONS

"Castle Gate's c o m m u n i t y house and recreational center, the largest building in this small m i n i n g c a m p , holds for the last time all that is mortal of the m e n w h o in t h e years past entered into the festivities for which it was erected. . . The building, consisting of a large auditorium, library and o t h e r smaller r o o m s , is d i r e c t l y across t h e street from the Knights of Pythias building, used by the coal company as the temporary morgue. Bodies recovered at mine No. 2 are removed in conveyances to the morgue and there are fixed for burial. As soon as the bodies have been placed in coffins t h e y are r e m o v e d to t h e auditorium of the 'hall' there to rest until final arrangements are completed for the burial of the victims."13

*W:

Bodies in caskets were transported in large wooden boxes. Stacks of these crates presented a stark visual reminder of the magnitude of the disaster. 13

70

Deseret News, March 12, 1924.


HECATOMB AT CASTLE GATE

"All day Tuesday and Wednesday hundreds of people have visited the morgue. In the amusement hall the dance floor . . . is filled with caskets of various shades and colors. Many of the women have become hysterical and have had to be led away from the caskets of husbands and sons as they have been permitted in some instances to l o o k at the faces of t h e i r loved ones. To prevent any possible c o n f u s i o n and excitement only a few persons at a t i m e have b e e n allowed in the t e m p o r a r y morgue."14 " D u r i n g the m o r n i n g the Y.M.C.A. building was prepared for another m o r g u e w h i l e ropes are b e i n g stretched about the entire morgue district and guards are being stationed to keep those who are only morbidly curious away. " E s t a b l i s h m e n t of the identities of the bodies has been only too difficult. Most of them have been so blown to bits that it is only by dental work, or some thing familiar that only a relative would k n o w that their identities have been fixed. All of the men carried brass identity checks in the pockers [pockets]. In many instances these have been blown away."15 14 13

Makeshift morgues appeared in various locations. Halls owned or used by Castle Gate social and fraternal organizations served as such places

Salt Lake Tribune, March 11, 1924. Deseret News, March 10, 1924.

71


Caskets were readied for funerals at the amusement hall and loaded onto trucks for a final journey to the cemetery. Truck processions

took the bodies of

Greek miners to the cemetery in nearby Price.

"As a funeral car and a mail t r u c k , impressed i n t o the somber service, have alternated during the day in their tragic journeys from mine to m o r g u e , the t o w n has watched their comings with ever recurrent fear - fear on the part of nearly everyone that a member of the family or a friend will be found at the journey's end. "Yet every time one of these carriers of death came halting at the morgue door the tear-eyed throng would press about until men of the American Tegion were enlisted as guardians to hold the crowd in check. "Thereafter the waiting people hurried at each new visitation of the hearse to read t h e g r o w i n g list of identified dead posted in the lobby of the postoffice near by."16 "Additional coffins, likewise, w e r e o r d e r e d by express from Salt Lake City as the car load which arrived early Monday night was entirely e x h a u s t e d by 4 o ' c l o c k Tuesday morning." 17

Salt Lake Tribune, March 11,1924. Deseret News, March 11,1924.

72


HECATOMB AT CASTLE GATE

BURIAL "Miners whose homes and families are in Castlegate will be buried in the local cemetery, where more than 100 graves have already been prepared. T h e local c e m e t e r y will be divided into plots for the various nationalities at the request of relatives, and a n u m b e r of requests have come from the relatives of Greek miners that they be buried in Price."18 "As now planned, funerals of the victims w h o are to be b u r i e d in t h e Castlegate cemetery, a plot of ground immediately within the working confines of the illfated mine will be confined to s h o r t services at t h e graves. "Officials Monday night made arrangements for the dividing of the cemetery plot into sections and burying the m e m b e r s of each of t h e nationalities represented in the list of victims in separate sections. Many victims, however, will not be buried in the cemetery here but will be removed by relatives to other parts of the country for interment." 19

Workers hurriedly dug some 125 graves in the town cemetery, considerably

more than needed. Many

bodies were sent to other communities

or abroad

for burial.

1

Salt Lake Tribune, March 11,1924. ' Deseret News, March 11,1924.

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UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

"Funerals for local miners w h o have b e e n r e m o v e d from the mine thus far will be held this afternoon, and they will be buried in the City cemetery. Ministers of various denominations have volunteered their services and will conduct the funerals held here. The company has made arrangements for getting the required number of caskets, and two carloads have already arrived here. More will be brought here as they are needed. The funerals will be held as soon as possible to avoid congestion, as the facilities here for taking care of bodies are limited. The company officials have decided that while it will be impossible to bury all the local men at one time, large funerals will be held, taking care of as many as possible."20 " A n d out on the hillside, almost over the t u n n e l s where lost miners now lie dead, graves were dug to give t h e m places for their eternal rest."21 Mourners converged on the Castle Gate cemetery to pay their last respects to family, friends, and fellow miners.

20 21

74

Salt Lake Tribune, March Ibid.

1924.

neighbors,


Senator Orval Hafen and the Transformation of Utah's Dixie By DOUGLAS D. ALDER

B

y the year 2002 Utah's Dixie has become prosperous. Eleven golf courses, four national parks, and several national monuments nearby draw visitors from the whole world to enjoy the redrock scenery, the sunshine, and the clear skies. Numerous restaurants and hotels accommodate them, as do community parks, trails, and a major state park. T h e area is h o m e to thousands of retirees w h o reside in commodious homes and/or condominium complexes. National and international visitors come regularly, some to special events like the St. George Marathon, the Huntsman World Senior Games, or the Dixie Arts Festival. Others come to celebrations, cultural attractions, and conventions, or they simply come to enjoy the magnificent surroundings. 1 Few who visit in this decade or who move their residence to this popular retirement area know that a century ago life in their chosen place was bleak. Then, the residents struggled to support their families and could not provide employment opportunities for their grown children, who were often obliged to move away. Second generation out-migration was the norm. H o w did this amazing transition to in- Orval Hafen as a state senator in migration and abundance occur? H o w did 1957. Douglas D. Alder is professor emeritus and past president at Dixie State College in St. George. He serves in the Library Archive, collecting documents relating to the area, and is writing a history of the college. 1

Southwest Utah has been called "Dixie" since the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS) established the Cotton Mission there in 1861.

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UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

the blazing heat that in the past persecuted the residents become the attractive sunshine that draws people today? H o w did water projects develop to support the expansion? H o w did the isolation that limited the early settlers give way to an interstate highway system and a major commuter airline headquartered in St. George? H o w did Dixie become the h o m e of a substantial college? Many rural Utah towns aspired to such development. W h y did it happen in Utah's Washington County? O n e way to understand this amazing transformation story is to examine the lives of the key players in the twentieth century, when the austerity gradually gave way to opportunity. These included people like Edward H. Snow, Anthony W Ivins, Joseph A. Nicholes, William Barlocker, and Orval Hafen. T h e latter was born in 1903 and lived until 1964, bridging the timespan between austerity and the new Dixie, which took root in the 1960s and blossomed in the 1970s and beyond. Fortunately, he kept a journal of the 1934-64 years, giving us a firsthand chronicle. W h e n Orval Hafen graduated from law school in 1929, he had achieved a respectable escape from his childhood home country, the parched desert of Utah's Dixie. H e had taken the high road: college at Brigham Young University, then work in Washington, D.C., while taking night courses at George Washington Law School, and thereafter a law degree from the University of California, Berkeley. The road to success was open to him. In the journal that captured his entire adult life, he commented, " W h e n I went away to law school the only thing I had decided definitely was that I would not come back here to practice, and here I came."2 Like many of his compatriots, Hafen left Dixie because economic opportunities were so limited. Employment in Los Angeles and even in Las Vegas, where the Boulder Dam was under construction, drew scores of young people from Dixie. They abandoned subsistence farming and the limited cattle and sheep industry in an arid land in favor of industrial and business opportunities in those alluring places. Joseph A. Nicholes, president of Dixie College, had his eye on young Orval Hafen, wanting to forestall such a loss. H e solicited the law student's help while he was still in Washington, D. C , and then pled with him to come home as an attorney and provide temporary leadership of a fledgling farmers' cooperative formed to market agricultural produce effectively. H e appealed to Orval's loyalty, arguing that the area needed his help. Orval was persuaded to come. Estimating the potential of such marketing and other ventures, Hafen wrote, " O u r people will be happier and more contented; they will have enough of an income to at least provide the necessities, and perhaps a few of the luxuries of life. They can start to live instead of just exist. They will develop and build industries which will provide opportuni2

Orval Hafen, Orval Hafen journal, volume I, 69, October 8, 1935. A copy of this journal is privately held by the family; access to the original, located in the Harold B. Lee Library, Special Collections, Brigham Young University, Provo, Utah, is restricted.

76


SENATOR ORVAL HAFEN

ties for their children, who now have to go "Airview of St. George," Utah Art away to find a livelihood."3 Project photo by Bob Jones, Such a statement could describe aspirations c 1930s. in m u c h of rural U t a h in the 1930s, but Hafen knew that conditions in Washington County had been grim for decades; the desert climate did not make agricultural improvements seem very promising. Having lived in Provo and then on both U. S. coasts, Hafen realized that life elsewhere, even during the depression, was not as austere as it was in Dixie. He commented in his journal that there was but $3 million assessed valuation in the whole county of 7,000 people, about $430 per person. 4 T h e temporary assignment with the cooperative experiment brought Hafen back to his homeland, not because he wanted to be there but because there were so many needs to be met. Within the first three years he became city attorney, county attorney, president of the chamber of commerce, secretary of the Pioneer Protection and Investment Company, member of the county library board, member of the county seed and feed loan committee, member of the LDS stake presidency, 5 member of the Dixie College Board of Trustees, Republican county chairman, and vice 3

Ibid., I, 9.This is from his introduction, written August 5,1934. Ibid., I, 16. From the introduction. 5 He was only twenty-seven and still single—unusually young for someone appointed to this high church position. 4

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president of the St. George Building Society, all while maintaining a law practice. He obviously had urgently needed skills. His return also may have been influenced by the great crash of 1929, which limited opportunities elsewhere, and certainly his bachelorhood was a significant factor that received his attention, as he continued to pursue a relationship he had begun before leaving for law school. H e finally convinced R u t h Clark of Provo to become his bride in 1934. She did so on the understanding that they would not stay in Dixie. However, what began as a one-year temporary assignment turned into a lifetime in Dixie—one in which he and R u t h often wondered if they would have been wiser to follow the diaspora of Dixieites to opportunities in Arizona, Nevada, or California. Yet from 1929 to 1964 Orval wound his life into the fabric of a community that was trying desperately to change, to enter a metamorphosis. The lives of Orval and R u t h Hafen marked the end of the Dixie austerity period, the change from frugality to a consumer society, the move from isolation and labor-intensive agriculture to recreation and tourism, the amazing change from a Spartan community to one offering comforts that hardly anyone foresaw. Orval was not the lone leader, but he was a visionary man who captured the transition in a powerful journal. In its pages one can feel the discouragement of trying to attract capital and the excitement of a new vision for the county, a vision that actually came into being just after Orval died, still in his prime at age sixty. The challenges ahead of Dixieites in the 1930s were huge. There was not one hard-surfaced road in the county seat of St. George, home to 2,500 people. Only a few cars came through the town each day, and there was no railroad. The nearby national parks attracted some hardy travelers, but the dirt roads were almost impassable. The brief economic upswing caused by World War I soon passed, and the effect of the Great Depression was settling in upon Washington County, already among the poorest sections of the nation. The farmers' cooperative Hafen came to manage lasted only one year and was unable to pay the salary it had planned for him. In its stead Hafen and several community leaders organized the Pioneer Protection and Investment Company. They had limited success by attracting a small amount of capital, about $5,000, from within their own ranks and, using it to import fertilizer to sell to farmers, posting a modest profit. This effort underlined the basic difficulty of not being able to attract outside capital and the limits of agriculture in an arid land. Then a near-catastrophe occurred. In 1933 the LDS church withdrew its sponsorship of Dixie College, a move that was part of a plan to close the many LDS academies in the Intermountain West and defer to state-owned higher education. The whole community knew that Dixie College was central to the town's purpose. Orval Hafen became president of the chamber of commerce that year, and he and his colleagues scraped together money to send a delegation of key people, including William O. Bentley,

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Joseph S. Snow, David Hirschi, and Dixie College president Joseph K. Nicholes to lobby the legislature. That team brokered a unique agreement making Dixie a state institution that would initially receive no appropriation. Hafen reported: "We [Dixie College] got by on the financial end last year [1933-34] through the help of the church and by combining the high school and college under one program, as had been done previously. We hope to do so again this year [1934-35], and are already girding ourselves for another fight in the legislature, not only to keep our school but for the whole idea of junior colleges, and also to see that we get an appropriation from the state, as Snow and Weber Junior Colleges have done." 6 T h e college's success in obtaining a $35,000 appropriation in 1935 meant that it would survive and its 200 students could continuue their education. Once that crisis had passed, Orval and five other community leaders, W O. Bentley, Matthew Bentley, Glenn E. Snow,Wilford W. McArthur, and B. Glen Smith, organized the Dixie Education Association. It was a behindthe-scenes effort to forestall any similar crises. The group slowly accumulated sufficient funds to provide a year's reserve, should it be needed. Two decades later, that money was available to purchase the site for a new campus next to the cemetery on the eastern edge of town. Those searching for a new economic base faced serious challenges. O n e was the continued need for support for Dixie College. Another was the need for expanded water development. Roads needed to be improved, capital attracted, and destination amenities created to interest travelers. Orval was often discouraged about the prospects. O n October 8, 1935, he wrote, "Some days things seem so petty here; I spend my time and energy with details, with things that somehow don't matter much. St. George doesn't figure much in the world's progress. It is insignificant, and in so many ways so is all that we do here." Two decades later he could still get discouraged: "The town seems so sleepy, there seem to be so few opportunities for people to make the money they need to keep up with the times. There is a temptation to feel like one should chuck it all and move to Salt Lake or some section where there are more opportunities.... Then I recall that Juanita Brooks said once that someone had written that a man could make a better contribution through his own group or town than he could anywhere else."7 Many of the residents of Dixie did not share his vision. They did not look to outsiders for help and certainly did not see tourism as a viable future. Suggestions about building a golf course to attract visitors brought chuckles from those locals who did not expect that tourists would come and knew that no home-towners had the time, money, or inclination for golf. They had labored at farming, ranching, and peddling their products for 6

Ibid., I, 13. From the introduction. See also Washington County News, January 10, February 9, 16, 23, March 9, 1933, and Edna J. Gregerson, Dixie College (Salt Lake City: Franklin Quest, 1993), 199-207. 7 Hafen journal, I, 69, August 8, 1935, and ibid., II, 70, March 17, 1957. See also Bruce Hafen, "Making a Difference," St. George Magazine, January/February 1993, 24. In this article, Orval's son sees him as "plagued throughout his adult life" with these questions.

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three generations and had become accustomed to the rigors of austerity. Frugality was an ethical principle with them, and they intended to continue with it. John Hafen was Orval Hafen's father, a rather successful Santa Clara farmer/rancher of Swiss descent; he represented that view. He embodied an established generation of farmers who clung to the old values and prospered. Late in life he owned a good-sized cattle herd but still lived as if he did not. Orval reported in his journal that his father's Santa Clara neighbors asked him to convince his father to install a telephone so they would not have to send for him continually to take calls at their homes. "Dad doesn't have a radio or a car. I had to try persuasion on him several times last summer to buy a refrigerator. He represents the old age, I the new, in a way. There are virtues in his attitude, and perhaps some in mine." 8 O n e tale in the Hafen family captures that frugality mode. " O n e Sunday R u t h and I drove over to Santa Clara to visit father. He told us he had bought a new suit but in looking him over R u t h noticed that the coat and pants did not match. She called it to father's attention and asked 'Why is it you have on the coat from the new suit but the pants from another suit?' Dad said,'Well, I just didn't want to come out in the new suit all at once.'" 9 In contrast to this self-denial of their father's generation, Orval and others of his time were restive for a new Dixie. Even amid the discouragement of the Great Depression they worked at optimism. The future state senator wrote in 1935: Dixie seems destined to undergo quite a change. Instead of the isolated little farms and cattle ranches, we may be in the midst of a recreational center, which will entirely change our attitudes, our outlook, our associations, our opportunities. Boulder D a m is finished; the five-day week, and the thirty-hour week are here; we are the gateway to the parks and playgrounds of Utah; in a few years yachts and pleasure boats will be plying the water of Boulder Lake [Lake Mead]; thousands of people go to see the dam every month now; more will continue to come. Pine Valley mountain, Z i o n Park, Bryce, Grand Canyon, and more parks to be created around us, will draw millions of people in the next few years.10

Though he missed on a point or two (the thirty-hour week), Hafen was a pretty good prophet, foreseeing more parks and monuments, pleasure boats, and millions of visitors. The next year he noted a few signs of the new ethic: Five years ago the town was not refrigerator-minded, but it is now. Two years ago p e o ple seldom thought of installing furnaces when they built, but they do now, to a greater extent. One year ago air conditioning was something for other people, in the future. Now, the Thompson boys, who have been in the plumbing business, spend a lot of time figuring on air-conditioning problems. There will be half a dozen places this year which will be air-conditioned. 11 8

Hafen journal, 1,18, December 16, 1934. Ibid., II, 154, December 16, 1958. 10 Ibid., I, 25, March 31, 1935. 11 Ibid., I, 93, April 7, 1936. 9

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Orval Hafen gradually developed a new vision for Dixie rooted in his knowledge of his homeland and his experience beyond it. He was convinced that a new consumer society, ending the austerity of Washington County, was possible if Dixieites would move beyond subsistence agriculture. His vision featured the creation of destination tourism, something more than providing gas, food, and lodging for those passing through on Highway 91. He foresaw people coming to St. George for an extended stay, to play golf, to visit national parks, to enjoy recreation facilities yet to be built, perhaps to spend the winter or even to retire. Much of that vision was linked to sunshine. H e came to believe that sunshine was a saleable product and that people could be attracted to Dixie to enjoy it and even to build a comfortable lifestyle around it. Perhaps such hopefulness among the new generation was influenced by the mercurial rise of Las Vegas, so near the Dixie desert. St. George was on the northern edge of the Mohave Desert, snuggled next to the Hurricane Fault and the elegance of the Colorado Plateau. Las Vegas, once an abandoned M o r m o n outpost, lay one hundred miles southwest in the flatland of that desert, right in the extreme heat, but it was thriving. Hafen's journal in 1952 included an astute comment about the amazing anomaly: Las Vegas is growing like a prairie fire. It started doing that 25 years ago when Hoover Dam was being built, and the wise-acres predicted that it was just a temporary b o o m and would be a ghost town when the dam was built; but it kept right on growing and it looks like there will be no end to it. As it grows, it attracts new industries and grows in political and military importance. Senator Pat McCarran exerts his influence to get government-projects: the air force base, the atomic energy testing grounds, even the great expanse of buildings which was known as the basic magnesium plant during the war, and which seemed to be a white elephant, has been touched with some magic wand. People from here and the surrounding towns find much temporary and permanent employment in and near Las Vegas. Many of them are moving there to make their homes; others wonder if it would not be wise to do so. Wages are high, there are jobs to be had, there are opportunities for all the myriad types of little businesses there seems to be a need for. Las Vegas is one of the most amazing phenomena in the throbbing restless life that is America. It is a different world from complacent, sleepy little St. George and the M o r m o n towns of Utah, most of which are starving for industries and payrolls.12

O n the one hand Hafen saw Dixie as "sleepy," yet on the other hand he was a dreamer: I can't get away from the feeling that the destiny of Dixie lies in her climate and scenery and that my mission is to help bring this about. 13 The old pioneers did their part in establishing a foothold in this forbidding, awesome land. That was their mission, and they accomplished it in spite of seemingly insurmountable obstacles. A new day and new problems are now moving on the stage. Someone must start out where they left off. There is SO M U C H to do to catch up with other sections of the state and with other states.14 12

Ibid., II, 10, September 27, 1952. Ibid., II, 135, August 23,1958. 14 Ibid., II, 156, December 16,1958.

13

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These words could well be the motto of the Dixie transition leaders, m e n like Arthur Bruhn, who dreamed of a thriving Dixie College; Truman Bowler and Wayne W i l s o n , w h o p l a n n e d for w a t e r p r o j e c t s ; and N e a l HS Lundberg, a forward-looking civic leader. Most of them were entrepreneurs who determined to use local resources to stimulate the realization of their visions. They had few ties to outside funds; big capital investments would have to wait for the 1970-2000 period. Then the high-risk projects, based largely on outside money, would get going with such developments as Bloomington, Green Valley, the first convention center, major housing projects, shopping malls, and industrial parks. Those developments characterize St. George today but were beyond the capacity of local investors in the 1940-70 epoch. Hafen was one of the handful to make a modest start. While maintaining a law practice, he devoted much of his personal effort to business ventures, hoping to generate capital for his bigger dreams. H e established a Ford car dealership and service garage, which sometimes consumed his whole work day. T h e dealership was a taxing undertaking and pressed him constantly to meet the payroll. He commented, "It is a worry; it ties up considerable capital; it doesn't make much money."15 Next he ventured into real estate, developing a housing subdivision on the southern edge of the town at Main Street and 6th South. This was his effort at attracting outsiders, but few potential buyers could make down payments. He often had to take a second mortgage to make deals possible, again tying up his capital potential. It was slow going but the subdivision was eventually completed. Despite this harsh experience, it was part of an ambitious dream: R i g h t now, I am rather deeply involved in a sub-division project which if it goes according to plan, would take ten years to complete, and in the process I might find myself expanding the project to include summer homes in Pine Valley and a winter lodge here. I don't dare to confess to M o m what wild ideas are going through my mind. In fact, I hardly dare face them myself and I hardly dare admit, even to myself, that I have sites picked out in Pine Valley and over near Snow's Canyon for just such ventures. 16

15 Ibid., II, 69, March 17, 1957. Examples of the many advertisements for his dealership can be seen in Washington County News, December 17, 1953, and January 21, 1954. 16 Hafen journal, II, 81, August 17, 1957.

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Tabernacle Street, St. George, c. 1930s.

N e i t h e r the Pine Valley nor Snow Canyon efforts were completed in his lifetime, but b o t h have since m a t e r i a l i z e d i n t o major endeavors. Pine Valley has become one of the state's most desirable locations for summer cabins. T h e Snow Canyon project was Hafen's wild fantasy. In the 1960s he described his dream for the WILL BROOKS COLLECTION. USHS

site: I have visions of setting up a resort featuring the Arabian Desert. Might call it "Arabia Deserta" after the famous travel book. Could keep on hand a couple of camels for atmosphere, and could feature the sale of pomegranates, dates, figs and pecans. People could be enticed to stay there over night, and go for horseback or camel rides in the canyon. This place would be near the road in Snow's C a n y o n w h i c h the Park Commission is now developing and would be a contact with the public. At this place we could tell them more of my mam attraction over in my canyon. At that place I think I would feature an Indian atmosphere in honor of the natives, the first settlers found here. I could keep a few Buffalo in the canyon. Might even feature Buffalo steaks and Buffalo robes along with Navajo blankets and Indian Jewelry. I have a site all picked out for the lodge and cabins on a little ridge. Am having a trail built up to the saddle at the head of the canyon. It would be an ideal place for a ski-lift—no snow, but a wonderful trip to the top of those towering red cliffs. Am investigating the feasability [sic] of a "desert golf course," one without water.17

The fairways would be of sand, and the greens of asphalt or sponge rubber. This entire project in Padre Canyon near Ivins depended upon finding water. The area is a scenic desert with all the beauty that Zion National Park or the Grand Canyon offers, but amenities for visitors would require water, which seemed almost impossible to get. Hafen, rational, conservative man that he was, took a gamble. Explaining his decision to use water dousers, he explained: The best underground water engineers in Salt Lake told me I was wasting my money. Art Bruhn, an amateur geologist, admitted it was possible to get water there if we struck the fissures where it might be percolating, but it remained for the local water witches ("dousers," Mrs. Mannering says) to locate the spot. I don't know how to explain how they can do it, and I don't say they never err. I do say I have some water. I can get it in the cabin, go ahead with a swimming pool, and then the other steps will fall in line as I can make finances available.18

The Padre Canyon development actually came to fruition, but not by his 17 IS

Ibid., Ill, 24, April 14,1961. Ibid. Ill, 122, September 28, 1963.

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effort. H e got the water there (though he did not build the swimming pool), proving the plan's viability, but he was diverted to political projects. Then when he returned to it, it was too late; he had a heart attack while digging a trench at the project and died prematurely. Three decades later, developers utilized the land and water he once owned to create the Tuacahn Performing Arts Center, where thousands come to the same canyon to attend outdoor musical productions each summer. Appropriately, the indoor theater there is named after Orval and R u t h Hafen. These several personal ventures did not occupy all his time. H e joined with others in attempts to promote the desert paradise idea. Golf was central to their plan, and they were convinced that the little white ball was to be a key factor in Dixie's future. In 1965, one year after Orval Hafen s death, a group including Neal Lundberg, Sid Atkin, Bruce Stucki, and others negotiated the creation of R e d Hills Golf Course, the city's first. This was the culmination of a campaign for St. George golf that had begun in the 1930s. In fact, during a visit in 1931, LDS president Heber J. Grant urged community leaders to build a golf course.19 Nearly a decade before their success, Hafen was talking the same way: "I want to do something about getting a golf course established so that we can begin to attract people in the wintertime." 20 Such a course would be a nice fit for his dude ranch. H e knew there were obstacles, even beyond capital: O u r reasons for building a golf course are mostly to attract people from outside to come here and spend their money. We readily admit that local people would n o t patronize the course enough to justify building it. In that regard, it is interesting to observe that local people do not k n o w how to play. Ever since this country was settled, people have been occupied almost exclusively with wresting a living from the soil and getting a toehold economically. We have been raised on the philosophy of being frugal, of not wasting anything, of making our time count, of the necessity of work, work, and that it was more or less of a sin to loaf or to spend for things we didn't need. That was my father's philosophy as it was that of his associates. I find it in myself, sometimes in strange ways.21

Efforts like the Ivins ranch, proposed golf courses, and new housing developments depended upon finding more water sources. The city's m o d est growth until then had been supplied by the nearby springs along the R e d Hills and by water from Cottonwood Spring. T h e latter was brought to St. George from a large spring on Pine Valley Mountain's southern face via an eighteen-mile canal. Anthony W Ivins, the mayor of St. George in the early 1890s, had promoted an ambitious plan to dig a canal that distance; earlier, Brigham Jarvis had advocated the route that was finally 19

Douglas D. Alder and Karl Brooks, A History of Washington County: From Isolation to Destination (Salt Lake City: Utah State Historical Society, 1996), 303. The efforts of Sid Atkin and Neal Lundberg are featured in Washington County News, July 30, 1964. Heber J. Grant was an avid golfer. 20 Hafen journal, II, 102, "New Year's Day," 1958. 21 Ibid., II, 117, July 4,1958.

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adopted. The canal was completed in 1897. This water sufficed for the city of St. George until the 1930s, when federal funds became available to pipe the water the whole distance, thus doubling the amount delivered to the town. 22 Orval Hafen captured the community's hope as the effort began: T h e drouth this past year has been so severe that our people are anxious to develop any projects which will make more water available. Even now, we all feel that the great handicap to the more rapid growth of the town is the limited water supply for the St. George Valley. The present project, if consummated, as it apparently will be, will mark a new day for St. George. In addition to piping the water all the way from Pine Valley mountain, and practically doubling the amount that now reaches us with the pipe line extending only part way, there is a possibility that a stream will be brought from Washington, and piped over here. 23

Within two decades, community leaders could see the necessity of seeking further sources of water. They began an ambitious plan to construct a major reservoir on the Virgin River below the town ofVirgin and another one near Gunlock on the Santa Clara River.These projects were on a scale many times the size of the Cottonwood effort and depended on the device that enabled reclamation projects throughout America's West—federal funding. Congress had paid for Boulder Dam, and the transformation it brought to Las Vegas was not unnoticed in adjacent Washington County. A broad coalition of community leaders from H u r r i c a n e as well as St. G e o r g e , including Hafen, worked w i t h Senator Frank E. Moss and Congressman Laurence J. Burton to get a $42 million appropriation from the U. S. Congress. Its passage in 1964 prompted an ebullient entry in Hafen s journal: Have received word that Congress has authorized the Dixie Project.This is a red-letter day for us, perhaps as significant a day as any we have had in the last hundred years It marks the beginning of a new and wonderful era for Utah's Dixie. T h e additional thousands of acres that will be brought under cultivation, the power that will be available, the recreational possibilities with the reservoir, the activity that will be generated during and after construction—all these things will make this one of the bright spots in the west, which is one of the bright spots in the nation St. George will grow as the center of the area. More people will come here to live; the school will grow; the temple will become more important; golf courses and other recreational attractions will blossom. People will take another look at our area because of its winter sunshine. Truly, a bit of history for Utah's Dixie was made today.24

The joy was soon eclipsed as the combined projects were abandoned. The Virgin site presented geological problems; a fatal fault line and porous soil near the dam site would have prevented the lake from keeping the water stored. A second site closer to Hurricane proved to be too expensive. The Gunlock Reservoir on the Santa Clara River was eventually completed, but not with federal funds. It would take twenty more years to build the Quail Creek Reservoir, an alternative to the Dixie Project that was based 22

Lyman Hafen, Making the Desert Bloom (St. George: Publishers Place, 1991), 11—14. Hafen journal, 1,19, December 16, 1934. 24 Ibid., Ill, 165, August 19, 1964. See also Washington County News, August 20, 1964.

23

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on a different strategy. Instead of damming the Virgin, Quail Creek diverted Virgin waters into a nearby storage reservoir.25 Another domain of interest for the Hafens was culture. This was one reason for their continuing support of Dixie College; part of that support included Ruth's teaching the French language on the campus. Orval and R u t h wanted their three surviving children, Bruce, R u t h A n n , and Margaret, to participate in music, theater, and art. All three did, gratifying their parents and setting a tone for their lives. The Hafens also promoted quality reading. R u t h founded St. George's Alice Louise Reynolds Club, a women's book club that encouraged reading of quality literature. Named for an esteemed Brigham Young University professor, it was part of a network of similar women's groups in Utah. R u t h nurtured the effort for years and found great delight in the group and the reading. For his part, Orval built and read a personal collection of books. Excerpts from them often appeared in his many speeches at church and community meetings as well as in his journal. In 1952 Orval Hafen was elected to the Utah State Senate. After three decades of efforts to jumpstart Dixie's economy, he became the official spokesman for the region, including Iron County, in the state capitol. The remainder of his life was devoted to this arena. His legal and business talents moved him into prominence quickly. At the end of his first session (1953), he was selected as the outstanding senator by the representatives of the press. In his second session (1955) he became party whip, then in 1957 he was elected senate president. In 1959 he was majority leader and thereafter chair of key committees. This close tie with the legislative leadership allowed him to be very productive. During those twelve years he became the point man on several issues: junior colleges, state parks, reapportionment, savings and loan institutions, and higher education. Governor J. Bracken Lee was the focal figure in Utah's politics in the 1950s. H e cut a conservative swath across Utah and the Republican party, and his main goals were to cut taxes and reduce the size of government. To that end, he called a special session of the legislature in December 1953 to deal with education. There, he submitted requests to close the j u n i o r colleges and vocational schools in Utah, arguing that the state did not need them and could not afford them. Naturally, this put Senator Hafen in a tight squeeze. As an up-and-coming Republican, it was difficult for him to oppose the leader of his party, 25 The development of water in Utah's Dixie required several major reclamation projects. Many started in the 1890-1910 period—the Cottonwood Canal (1890-91), the Enterprise Reservoir (1890-1911), the LaVerkin Canal (1885-90), the Hurricane Canal (1893-1905), and the Washington Fields Dam (1891-93). By mid-century the next generation of projects began—the Baker Dam (1954), the Kolob Reservoir (1950s), the failed Dixie Project of the 1960s, Gunlock Reservoir (1970), the Quail Creek D a m (1982-87), and an expansion of Quail Creek at Sand Hollow in 2001. (The Quail Creek project diverted water from the Virgin River to a suitable storage spot; Sand Hollow, located south of Quail Creek, will store excess runoff of the same Virgin water brought through the same canal.) The possibility of a pipeline from Lake Powell, to empty into Sand Hollow, is currently under discussion.

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yet his number one priority was to protect Dixie College. He was not alone in this predicament. Weber, Snow, and Carbon colleges as well as the two vocational schools, Salt Lake and Central Utah, also had advocates in the legislature. It could have been a huge battle, but behind-the-scenes negotiations softened the potential conflict. Legislative leaders, including Senator Hafen, met with the LDS First Presidency and Ernest Wilkinson, BYU's president. The latter was advocating the creation of a network of junior colleges to be "feeder" schools for BYU. An agreement was reached that the church would take back Snow, Dixie, and Weber colleges, which had been church academies previously, and continue their operation. Senator Hafen agreed to carry that bill on the understanding that Carbon and the two vocational schools would not be included because they had not been LDS academies and the church did not intend to take them on. They would be handled in separate bills that would close them. There was some grumbling about Weber College because many people in Weber County did not want the church to own their college. However, faced with the possibility of no future for the college at all, their legislators reluctantly went along with Senator Hafen's bill. For his part, Governor Lee realized that a proposal to end state ownership of the colleges would not pass unless the survival of these three colleges was guaranteed. So that was the compromise: transfer Dixie, Snow, and Weber to the LDS church and close Carbon and the two vocational schools. Senator Hafen's corresponding bill, SB39, put him in a tough spot, but he reasoned that the bill would ensure continuation of the college, which would otherwise die. He had no guarantee that the church would never close the college; it had already done that once before in 1933, but the immediate onslaught needed to be contained, so he led out in the negotiations and sponsored the bill in the senate.The bill passed on December 18.26 The ending to all these tactics was surprising. A citizens' movement in Ogden, Ephraim, and Price raised a protest against the legislation, and citizens sponsored an initiative to keep all six schools open and under state ownership. To the amazement of many, the initiative passed statewide. Governor Lee's attempt had been rejected. Those six institutions are still part of Utah's higher education system. Today they enroll some 72,000 students and are considered a key factor in training a marketable workforce, which in turn attracts industries to the state and stimulates the thriving economy. This contest was one factor prompting Senator Hafen to introduce legislation creating a Utah Higher Education Coordinating Council. He hoped the non-partisan agency would protect higher education from unproductive and unregulated competition among individual institutions. He presented 26 Utah State Senate, First Special Session, 1953, Senate Bill 39, pp. 144, 220. See also Washington County News, December 10,17, and 24, 1953.

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appropriate senate bills in 1957 and 1959.27 The resulting council served as a forerunner for the Utah State Board of Regents, which was instituted a decade later. H e also furthered Dixie College by p r o m o t i n g bills to construct buildings on the new campus. Taken together, the new campus, the new buildings there, the continued existence, and the new governance system became basic elements of Dixie College. Senator Hafen was central in all of these developments that played a major part in the new Dixie. Another matter that influenced rural southern Utah was the issue of legislative apportionment. Senator Hafen quickly became the leader in this matter, w h i c h was u n d e r scrutiny because of U S. Supreme C o u r t rulings about equal representation. H e authored two bills, one in 1961 and another in 1963, that attempted to balance the urban centers and the rural parts of the state.28 The bills passed. In his journal he summarized the issue: The 25 rural counties now have a majority of 14 to 11 in the Senate. T h e four p o p u lous counties have a majority in the House. These urban counties, which represent about 75% of the states population, want a majority in both houses, and we don't want them to have it. My argument is that our government is not built on the theory that we must always recognize the majority, that in the federal government and in the states, safeguards have been written in to protect us from the tyranny of the majority, and that it is not in the best interests of the state for a small geographical area to be in a position to legislate for its own benefit and to control all the legislation.... I have therefore prepared a bill increasing the Senate to 27, making it 14 for the 25 rural counties and 13 for the 4 urban counties, and increasing the House, giving the 4 urban counties more of a majority than we now have. I explained the problem and the bill to a Republican caucus yesterday, and got very good support from the members of both houses, and was backed up by the governor. 29

The 1962 U.S. Supreme Court decision in Baker v. Carr had undone many states' efforts to modify the strict representation by population. In Utah, this required that counties sometimes have split representation in order to create equal legislative districts, an outcome that Hafen unsuccessfully tried to prevent. There were other matters bearing on Washington County that Senator Hafen undertook in the legislature. O n e of the far-reaching matters was the creation of a state park system, of which he is considered the founder. H e could see that state parks needed support, so he introduced legislation to create the State Parks Commission to be that advocate. Obviously, Hafen was anxious to have state sponsorship for Snow Canyon State Park near Ivins in Washington County, but he had interests well beyond that. In 1963 he introduced legislation to create Wasatch State Park near Heber City. 27

Utah State Senate, 1957, Senate Bill 54, p. 69; Utah State Senate, 1959, Senate Bill 54, p. 65. Utah State Senate, 1961, Senate Bill 1, p. 52; Utah State Senate, 1963, Senate Bill 63, p. 96. 29 Hafen journal, III, 104, July 18, 1963. See also Baker v. Carr, Supreme Court of the United States, 309 U S , April 1 9 - 2 0 , 1 9 6 1 , M a r c h 26, 1 9 6 2 , LexisNexis A c a d e m i c U n i v e r s e d o c u m e n t (www.lexisnexis.com). To meet requirements of the Supreme Court decision in Baker v. Carr, the legislature had to let the urban counties have a majority in the house. However, Hafen made sure the rural counties maintained a majority in the senate so the rural caucus could stop legislation if it had to. 28

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Both of these parks are state treasures—though the system today still has few legislative advocates.30 Hafen's role in the senate included more than just Washington/Iron County promotion. He carried twenty to thirty bills per session, becoming an expert on such topics as savings and loan associations, marriage regulations, courts, school finance, and state government offices. He was a very busy man. O n e of the ways to gain a perspective on Senator Hafen is to compare him with his contemporary, William (Bill) Barlocker. From 1958 to 1966 Bill Barlocker was the mayor of St. George. A Democrat, he and Senator Hafen were contrasts. Hafen was a Republican, closely allied with governors Lee and Clyde as well as state Republican chair Vernon R o m n e y and future U.S. congressman Sherman Lloyd. O n the opposite side, Bill Barlocker became the Democratic party's standard-bearer as gubernatorial candidate in 1960, but he lost to George Dewey Clyde, the incumbent. The tactics of the two Dixieites differed fundamentally, and personally their styles were at least as far apart. Hafen admitted that the mayor was much more adept at seeking votes and "backslapping." Barlocker was affable and gifted in winning friends, whereas Hafen was perceived as rather formal. A conservative and a lawyer, he was widely read, of high culture, and an active Latter-day Saint but was not an easy socializer.31 Barlocker was an enterprising turkey farmer of considerable means, at least for awhile. H e used his fortune to take over the Bank of St. George and become its president. The two men could hardly have been more different. Senator Hafen was very uncomfortable with the possibility of Bill Barlocker becoming governor. That fact emphasized their political difference. The irony was that both men were trying to do the same thing— develop the economic base of Dixie through government and their own investments. 32 Both adopted the American ideology of progress and of development. Both became moderately well-to-do, something rare in Dixie. And both would likely be stunned to hear critics today wonder if the sought-after development was really desirable, if growth did not have some serious downsides. They saw their intent to develop employment opportunities and to attract visitors and new residents as suitable solutions to the economic doldrums that seemed to persist in Utah's Dixie. Philosophically, Hafen and Barlocker were similar (pro-development), but their personal differences were so strong that their commonalities did not bring them together. They just did not do things together. Four decades later, after the Hafen-Barlocker era, the population has

30

Utah State Senate, 1957, Senate Bill 62, p. 74; ibid., 1963, Senate Bill 62, p. 218. An admiring neighbor child thought otherwise, later remembering Orval Hafen as a people person, especially one who enjoyed children. See Rula Jean Snow Williams, "My Memories of Orval Hafen," November 18, 2000, essay in possession of author. 32 Hafen, II, 97, November 5, 1957; ibid., 122-23, July 14,1958. 31

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increased sevenfold and the area is regularly cited as one of the nation's premier retirement communities. Environmental advocates are raising questions about the concept of development and growth; they cite resource depletion, habitat infringement, air pollution, and traffic congestion—issues Hafen and Barlocker could hardly have imagined. But in 1960 Hafen and Barlocker were still struggling to j u m p s t art the region; they did not apologize for doing so. By 1970, after Hafen's death, Dixie was on a new trajectory leading to dynamism. W h y did it work? W h y in Dixie? Even though entrepreneurial efforts of local Dixie citizens were essential to get a golf course and an airport and to build motels and restaurants, there were external factors that had even more impact. Air conditioning became a national norm, making Dixie adaptable to tourists. The building of the national interstate highway system transformed much of America, particularly St. George, where the railroad had never come, and it b r o u g h t commerce to the front door of St. George businesses. Perhaps the biggest factor was the growth of national wealth, which allowed many people to travel to see the grandeur of the national parks. Another was the emergence of retirement as a national norm. Retirement income allowed many people to relocate to sunshine states.33 Such places as Palm Springs, P h o e n i x / S u n City, and all of southern California were attractive to senior citizens. Utah's Dixie was just a bit north of these, and some people seeking sunshine were drawn to St. George because it was smaller than Phoenix or Los Angeles and had less glitter than Las Vegas. The M o r m o n temple was inviting to a particular niche of the retirement cohort. Soon Dixie became the site of Bloomington, then Green Valley, Crystal Springs, Entrada, Kayenta, Sun River, Coral Canyon, and other real estate developments, all enabled by outside financing. Several local factors supplemented the national forces. The availability of sufficient water was essential, and the city's water development was able to stay just ahead of each project. The airport was expanded several times, first by the chamber of commerce and later by the city, with the help of federal funding. The city government became an avid supporter of golf, owning at this writing four municipal courses, while seven others in the area were privately developed. Did Orval Hafen cause these things to happen? Hardly. His legacy did include the new Dixie College campus and many other things, but it was his attitude of building a new Dixie that was most significant. Many others came to share it. They were the ones who actually built the golf courses, 33 Farley Reynolds, The New American Reality: Who We Are, How We Got Here, Where We Are Going (New York: Russell Sage Foundation, 1996), 287-88. Reynolds writes, "The South and the West generally benefit because they attract a rather prosperous older population whose income is unlikely to go down very much during a recession...." See also Population Profile of the United States, 1984-85, Special Studies, Series P23 #150 (Washington, D C : Department of Commerce, Bureau of the Census), 7: "The South and West Regions continue to dominate the nation's growth, capturing 91.4 percent of the country's 1980-85 population increase."

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the retirement complexes, and the recreation facilities after the senator's passing. Hafen, on the other hand, was the highly respected advocate who outlined the idea of destination tourism and retirement. H e opened many doors. All this growth has been exciting to many but alarming to others. To look at it from the perspective of the decades between 1930 and 1960 puts it into a context. Those who are justifiably alarmed today about the growth and its future can gain perspective by looking at a time when scarcity was the norm and a generation came on the scene to ameliorate it. Like so many in small towns, this generation set out to promote change. Their efforts were somewhat like trying to move a mountain, yet eventually the consumer society and the comfortable community that they envisioned actually came about. Orval Hafen was just one of a score who led out, but his pen captured their frustrations and their dreams. Were he alive today, his journal would likely talk of amazement—and perhaps of concern that Dixie not mirror Las Vegas.

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BOOK REVIEWS A Trial Furnace: Southern Utah's Iron Mission

By Morris A. Shirts and Kathryn H.

Shirts (Provo: Brigham Young University Press, 2001. xx + 523 pp. $29.95.) D U R I N G T H E INITIAL D E C A D E of M o r m o n settlement in U t a h , the n e w residents attempted t o create an independent economic society. Their distance from eastern suppliers and the anticipation of continuing immigration pressed leaders to establish a system of domestic production. They dreamt of being able not only to raise ample food but also to manufacture such things as paper, cotton, sugar, and iron. They hoped to meet the needs of the many settlements being established within the Great Basin. By so doing, they could reduce dependence on distant suppliers and address the serious shortage of currency needed to buy products abroad. From this need was born the mission system. Brigham Young and his colleagues "called" specific groups to go to locations where these specialized products could be generated. O n e such effort was launched with high expectations—the Iron Mission near Parowan/Cedar City in southern Utah. Morris Shirts spend a good portion of his life researching the story of the Southern Utah Iron Mission—the period from 1851 to 1870. He died with the manuscript only partially completed, but his daughter-in-law utilized his research notes and brought the book to fulfillment in time for the 150th anniversary of the colony's founding. Brigham Young University Press recently released the book, which will be of interest to many, especially the residents of Utah's Iron County and the descendants of the Iron Mission pioneers. Appropriately, the account begins with the story of the Parley P. Pratt expedition that explored the main southern Utah routes in 1849, designating sites for further settlements. Even though they nearly perished, the fifty men made it over the mountains and into what became Parowan. Then, after they examined the nearby iron ore that Jefferson Hunt had discovered earlier, they sent messages back to the general conference confirming the existence of that resource. Brigham Young responded quickly by sending George A. Smith and fifty men (some with families) to settle the valley of the Little Salt Lake and begin the production of iron. The authors describe the trek of the "called" missionaries as they retraced the Pratt pathway (later the Interstate 15 corridor) each of twenty-six days. They then turn to a detailed account of village building and the missionaries' choosing between Center Creek and Muddy Creek, selecting local officers, exploring the surrounding area, building a fort and homes, creating farms, digging ditches,

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plowing fields, and erecting fences. The account details the founding of Cedar City, its later move to the present location, and the discovery of nearby coal veins. It then turns to the main theme—the attempt to produce iron. This was a high priority for the missionaries because all Mormon towns needed nails, axes, horseshoes, wire, shovels, blades, hammers, and other items they could make from iron. They knew the whole "kingdom" awaited their success, but there were many obstacles. T h e Iron Mission colony needed to eat, and much of their effort was diverted into farming. Most of all, furnaces had to be built, coal and iron ore mined, and roads constructed. Finally, in September 1852, they produced the first bar of iron, but it was of disappointing quality, hinting at what the future had in store for them. A score of difficulties followed—cold weather, lack of adequate charcoal, Indian dangers, floods, internal squabbles, drought, and lack of adequate equipment. Both the central and the local leaders determined to overcome each difficulty. They transformed the mission into a commercial venture with capital from European members. They scoured America and Europe for possible workers and they force-fed the operation, building several different ovens and trying several formulas. The result was that by April 1854 they did in fact produce iron, but its quality never reached expectations and the cost to produce it outweighed the profits. Interruptions caused by the Mountain Meadows Massacre and the Utah War slowed the iron project. Then, after one last try, the effort was officially ended. Like some other missions attempting to create an economic independence, the Iron Mission had to shift its emphasis. Many people left, but the agricultural dimensions continued on. The long-range result was the byproduct—getting towns established and bringing people to set up Mormon communities and farm the land. It would have been helpful if the authors had shown a comparison with the Cotton Mission, which began next door, and other efforts at economic independence, most of which were gradually abandoned in favor of simply creating agricultural settlements. The strength of the book is the rich documentary base that the authors consulted, diaries of men such as John D. Lee, George A. Smith, Joseph Fish, Henry Lunt, Isaac C. Haight, and William Dame and institutional records such as the ledgers of the Deseret Iron Company It is a well-researched and significant book. DOUGLAS D. ALDER Dixie College

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Writings of John D. Lee Edited by Samuel Nyal Henrie (Tucson: Hats Off Books, 2001. viii + 427 pp. Paper, $22.95.) SAMUEL NYAL H E N R I E HAS MADE an important contribution to Utah history by publishing the Writings of John D. Lee, even though it strikes at the very heart of the controversial Mountain Meadows Massacre. This volume includes eight parts. In part one, Henrie sets forth his goal of presenting Lee's worldview and view of his role in the massacre at Mountain Meadows through Lee's personal writings. Part two contains the autobiography that Lee wrote while he was in prison. Part three includes the confession that Lee dictated to stenographers while awaiting his execution. Part four reproduces the official report of Lee's arrest by United States marshal William Stokes. Part five is comprised of a portion of the testimony of Phillip Klingonsmith during the first trial, a brief description of Lee's experience in the territorial prison, and the testimony of several witnesses from the second trial. Part six includes letters Lee wrote while in prison to family members, two poems, a list of his wives and children, and his farewell to his family. Part seven describes the execution of John D. Lee. In the epilogue, Henrie gives his interpretation of the value and meaning of the documents. H e then describes the recent efforts to bring reconciliation between the Mormons and the descendants of those w h o died in 1857. In this regard, he inserts the talk that Shirley Pyron gave and the poem Stewart Udall recited at the dedication service of the new monument at one gravesite in 1999. By arranging these documents in this sequence and by providing an introduction to each document, Henrie seeks to strip away the prejudice against Mormons that previous editors had inserted in The Life and Confession of John D. Lee and Mormonism Unveiled. Many readers will find The Writings of John D. Lee a more believable account than these earlier publications because Henrie has placed these writings within the positive context of the recent efforts at reconciliation between the people of Utah and Arkansas. As a result, this book may reach Henrie's expectation of filling a vacuum between the intense anti-Mormon literature on the one hand and the scholarship of authors such as Juanita Brooks on the other hand by having John D. Lee speak for himself through his own words. Nevertheless, there are a number of distracting errors in this book. First, several mistakes appear in the transcriptions of the original documents. For example, on page 31 the text reads "nest"

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spring instead of "next" spring. The text on page 99 says ' T h e " instead of "he." Again, Henrie transcribed "and" as "anal" on page 193. Second, Henrie's editorial comments contain several factual mistakes. O n page three, he identifies Joseph Smith with the "Great Awakening," but Smith lived during the "Second Great Awakening." Page five places handcarts in the 1846 exodus, but handcarts were not used for another ten years. Henrie incorrectly dates Juanita Brooks's study of the massacre as written in 1930. His epilogue assigns 1856 as the date for the massacre. Third, he uses several questionable interpretations. O n page 273, he treats the " M o r m o n War" as "a political trick to get a Federal Army out of the East." O n the same page, he incorrectly discusses the anti-polygamy legislation. Under the Morrell AntiBigamy Law of 1862, he claims "the penalties...went so far as to arrest the M o r m o n General Authorities and even the possible dissolution of the L.D.S. C h u r c h organization." Actually, the Mormon-controlled probate courts rendered this law ineffective. Fourth, some editorial comments are so brief that they fail to clearly treat the topic. O n page 324 Henrie simply says, "Dr. Forney was sent from the east to retrieve the children and return them to their surviving relatives." In 1850 Brigham Young became the ex-officio superintendent of Indian affairs and governor of the territory W h e n President James Buchanan replaced Young, he divided these two appointments, and Jacob Forney became superintendent of Indian affairs. W h e n government officials developed their plan to recover the children, they turned to Forney for his help. Finally, the value of this book would be significantly increased if a good map of the region, biographical notes about the people mentioned in the text, and a complete index were included. Nevertheless, p e o p l e i n t r i g u e d by the M o u n t a i n M e a d o w s Massacre, M o r m o n culture, and Utah and the American West will discover this book valuable to read and add to their library. LAWRENCE G. COATES Brigham Young University, Idaho

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Ute Indian Arts and Culture: From Prehistory to the New

Millennium

Edited by William Wroth (Colorado Springs: Colorado Springs Fine Arts Center, 2000. xiii + 248 pp. Cloth, $85.00; paper, $45.00.) WILLIAM W R O T H HAS C R E A T E D a masterpiece. This colorful and well-illustrated work grabs your attention immediately, and it does not let you go until you have gleaned over it several times. I have witnessed my son pick up the book and review it again and again. If it is Wroth s intent to call attention to the beauty of the Ute Indian culture and generate respect for the Ute people (within as well as outside the tribe), then he has succeeded. Most, but not all, of the items featured in this volume are from the Southern Ute of Colorado, those who traditionally occupied parts of the south-central portion of Colorado and northern N e w Mexico and who now reside on the Southern Ute Reservation or the U t e M o u n t a i n U t e R e s e r v a t i o n , b o t h in s o u t h w e s t e r n Colorado. Other items featured came from the Northern Ute, who now reside on the Uintah and Ouray Ute Reservation (with headquarters in Fort Duchesne, Utah). Of the original eleven bands of Ute who occupied Utah, southern Wyoming, Colorado, and southern New Mexico, only three of the bands (Muache, Capote, and Weeminuche) remain in Colorado, while another three bands (Uintah, White River, and Uncompahgre) now reside in Utah. My best compliment to Wroth is that his work has brought the public into the present-day homes of Ute people in Utah and Colorado; the book provides a glimpse of the attributes of Ute culture and an idea of what life was like during the latter part of the nineteenth century. It also gives a taste of what I witnessed and e x p e r i e n c e d g r o w i n g u p o n t h e U i n t a h and O u r a y U t e Reservation in Utah. As a child, I enjoyed moments w h e n my mother and father would open our cedar chest and display many family heirlooms. I remember one time it was a silver bridle, another time it was a beautiful beaded parade horse blanket. Sometimes it would be something n e w that I had not experienced before. Sometimes the importance of the item, its history, and who made it would be shared. I recall the time I was told about a fully beaded vest that was a gift from an elderly family friend, Edgar Greenstick, w h o lived northeast of Duchesne near Yellowstone, sometimes referred to as the Lake Fork area of the reservation. The vest had teepee designs, a design that was borrowed by the White River Band of Utes from the Lakota nations to the north. Sometimes these items of regalia were brought out as our fami-

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ly prepared to perform for a group at a tribal or public function. W h e n I was young child in the 1960s, the powwow culture was on the wane. The largest major powwow event in the West was the Gallup Ceremonials held in the spring in Gallup, N e w Mexico. In fact, at one point, there were fewer than ten children and young adults who still performed Plains-style dances, the "war dance" or "turkey dance" (as we referred to them), on our reservation. Few dancers retained the full dance regalia. We had one singer, Harvey Hatchees, a highly celebrated World War II veteran who became a trusted and respected elder, who was always there to sing several songs for us. Thanks to people like him and other dedicated singers and dancers, I am proud to say that the powwow culture has been revived and is growing stronger. Another major feature of this work is that through Wroth s presentations, it is easy to see how the Utes were influenced by the other Plains Indian nations such as the Lakota, Cheyenne, and Arapaho to the north and the Kiowa and Comanche to the south. In designs on moccasins, vests, and gloves, the geometric, linear influence of the Plains is witnessed. Also notable is the presence of the "rose design" that sometimes resembles northeastern woodlands designs but that signifies the Ute and other Shoshone nations. It must have been a grueling task to locate, select, design, and in some cases collect some of the items displayed in this colorful work. The black and white photos have depth and possess the right lighting. I commend the author for his tireless search for all the items and his talent for display and design; the quality of his research and the accuracy of the information and descriptions of the items are commendable. I urge others to take a lesson from him in how to present the cultural designs and artifacts of our nation's first Americans. FORREST S. CUCH (NORTHERN UTE) Utah Division of Indian Affairs

Mormon History By Ronald W Walker, David J. Whittaker, and James B. Allen (Urbana and Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 2001. xi + 279 pp. $32.50.) MORMON HISTORY FOLLOWS A YEAR after the publication in 2000 of its monumental 1,152-page companion volume, Studies in Mormon History, 1830-1997. The latter volume is a reference work that includes an alphabetical listing by author of more than 16,000 books, articles, theses, dissertations, typescripts, and task papers on

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Mormon history. There is also an index to historical writings and a topical guide to published social literature on the Mormons. Mormon History allows the compilers of Studies in Mormon History to describe and interpret their work in order to "provide a handbook for those starting a study of M o r m o n history" and offer "a synthesis of modern scholarship dealing with the writing of M o r m o n history" (ix).The book has five interpretive chapters— "Beginnings: N i n e t e e n t h - C e n t u r y Historical W r i t i n g " ; "Traditionalism Meets M o d e r n i s m , 1 9 0 0 - 1 9 5 0 " ; " T h e N e w M o r m o n History: Historical Writing since 1950"; " T h e Challenge of M o r m o n Biography"; and "Flowers, Weeds, and Thistles: T h e State of Social Science Literature on the M o r m o n s . " T h e two a p p e n d i c e s — " M o r m o n Imprints as Sources for R e s e a r c h : A History and Evaluation" and " M o r m o n Americana: A Guide to Reference Works and Bibliographies"—are more descriptive than interpretive in nature, but they include useful notes and subheadings by topic and genre. As a companion volume to Studies in Mormon History, Mormon History is a landmark of scholarship in its own right. Walker, Whittaker, and Allen have provided an indispensable and concise resource that deals with all aspects of writing and publishing M o r m o n history Examining the various genres and schools of writing and publishing in this field, the authors review literary analysis of LDS church history from the earliest days of the church to current trends by LDS and non-LDS authors alike. The chapter on M o r m o n biography distinguishes itself with its comparisons of the works and methods of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries and its modern-day examples ranging from the former presidents of the LDS church to minor figures in M o r m o n history. T h e chapter on social sciences and M o r m o n literature (contributed by Armand Mauss) provides an excellent interdisciplinary view of literature, bridging the literature of various humanistic and social sciences fields. Lastly, the appendices on M o r m o n imprints and M o r m o n Americana will be invaluable to scholars pursuing any of the numerous avenues of M o r m o n history. Although the conclusions of Walker, Whittaker, and Allen and Mauss differ on the future of publishing in the areas of history, biography, and the social sciences, their work is fresh, insightful, and learned and will no doubt influence a new generation of writers in this field into the twenty-first century. This text not only examines works of the various past and present schools of M o r m o n history but will also give those new to the field an appreciation for works that have been accomplished; more impor-

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tant, it will provide a foundation for n e w methods and n e w schools of thought in this area. PETER L. KRAUS University of Utah

Encyclopedia of Latter-day Saint History

Edited by Arnold K. Garr,

Donald Q. Cannon, and Richard O. Cowan (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 2000. vii + 1,454 pp. $49.95.) THIS SINGLE-VOLUME E N C Y C L O P E D I A , containing more than 1,400 entries, provides an interesting history of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Compiled by teachers and scholars of LDS church history, the b o o k seeks to "present accurate, concise and readable articles on a wide variety of Church history topics." This v o l u m e should appeal to an i m m e n s e audience, from the international filmmaker to the religious scholar. It serves as a simple, quick reference source where one can access important information about events and people. It is also enjoyable to read. The serious student or the casual reader can get "hooked" and read longer than anticipated. The articles are brief enough that one can peruse several topics in a short amount of time. Approximately 350 church history scholars have contributed to this historical record. Many familiar names are among the writers — T h o m a s A l e x a n d e r , Davis B i t t o n , C l a u d i a and R i c h a r d Bushman, Susan Easton Black, Jan Shipps, and many others. An alphabetical list of writers is included in the back of the book. While the articles vary in length, the format is consistent. T h e first sentence explains the importance of the topic, and the rest of the narrative provides succinct information. Additional sources on the topic are listed at the end of each article. T h e n u m b e r of sources varies from one to twelve, depending on the subject. Obviously, the nature of the book limits the number of sources that can be included. Unfortunately, important recent sources are missing for some of the entries. For example, the reference to Alaska does not include Faith in the Far North: A History of the Fairbanks, Alaska, Stake (Fairbanks: Fairbanks Alaska Stake, 1998); although fairly short, this work covers the history of the church in northern Alaska from 1928 to 1998. The article on David H y r u m Smith does not include the 1998 biography by Valeen Tippetts Avery, From Mission to Madness: Last Son of the Mormon Prophet. There are twenty-six interesting black-and-white photographs

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on a variety of subjects such as the rules of the United Order, the d o c u m e n t a n n o u n c i n g that all worthy males could hold the priesthood, and President Ronald Reagan and Elder Gordon B. Hinckley at a church cannery. The book contains a detailed church history chronology, starting with the birth of Brigham Young in 1801 and ending with the dedication of the Boston Temple on October 1, 2000. An excellent index is also included. Bold-faced words in the articles indicate a cross-reference to another article. With all the emphasis recently placed on using the full name when referencing the church, it is surprising that Deseret Book and church scholars would not include the complete name in the title. All in all, this is an excellent source, well worth the $49.95, but a less expensive paperback edition would make it more affordable. Perhaps the encyclopedia could be made available electronically. A Spanish edition also might be very helpful. DAVID A. HALES Westminster College

Sojourner in the Promised Land: Forty Years among the Mormons

By Jan Shipps

(Champaign: University of Illinois Press, 2000. xiii + 400 pp. $34.95.) A L T H O U G H J A N SHIPPS, a nationally recognized scholar of M o r m o n studies, characterizes this work as "an intellectual biography" (5), it is not a memoir in the form of Leonard J. Arrington's 1998 Adventures of a Church Historian. Instead, Shipps has brought together a diverse collection of seventeen essays written over some twenty years. These essays sum up the author's penetrating observations concerning the craft and challenges of M o r m o n history. Seven have been previously published in "relatively unknown articles and book chapters" (4), with the remainder published here for the first time. Shipps occupies a somewhat unique status as a socalled "inside-outsider"—a n o n - M o r m o n scholar seeking to present Latter-day Saint history in a scholarly yet sensitive manner. Undoubtedly the most valuable essay is "From Satyr to Saint: American Perceptions of the M o r m o n s , 1860-1960," w r i t t e n years ago and widely circulated in manuscript form but published here for the first time. Meticulously researched, "From Satyr to Saint" utilizes "content analysis" and "survey research techniques." Through careful examination of n o n - M o r m o n periodicals from 1860 to 1960, Shipps shows how n o n - M o r m o n perceptions of the

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Latter-day Saints gradually changed from intense antagonism/disdain to respect and admiration. Also e n l i g h t e n i n g are t w o c o m p a n i o n essays. T h e first, "Surveying the M o r m o n Image since 1960," provides a valuable overview of c o n t e m p o r a r y n o n - M o r m o n perceptions of the Latter-day Saints. Shipps observes that "Mormonism is rapidly losing the protection of minority religious status" and is no longer immune from critical examination of its doctrines and practices (112). She also concludes that "never again is there likely to be a single M o r m o n image. It is much more probable that along with nuance will come multiple images of the Latter-day Saints" (115). The second essay, "From Gentile to N o n - M o r m o n : M o r m o n Perceptions of the Other," provides an engaging overview of changing Latter-day Saint images of non-Mormons. T h e initial formation of such images was largely influenced by emerging Latter-day Saints ethnicity as they identified themselves as the literal descendants of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. As self-proclaimed members of the House of Israel, they labeled n o n - M o r m o n s "Gentiles." During the nineteenth-century peak of M o r m o n n o n - M o r m o n conflict, "Gentile" became synonymous with the term "anti-Mormon." But over time, as the larger society came to view the Saints more favorably, Latter-day Saints in turn viewed others more positively, to the point of abandoning the t e r m " G e n t i l e " a l t o g e t h e r and utilizing instead the t e r m " n o n M o r m o n " or "non-member." In other essays, Shipps points to three basic challenges facing scholars brave or foolhardy enough to do M o r m o n history. T h e first, discussed in "Gentiles, M o r m o n s , and the History of the American West," involves the fact that M o r m o n history, despite being part of the larger story of the American West, "is frequently neglected or altogether overlooked." Through a colorful metaphor, Shipps laments that western historians "shape the western story like a doughnut, circling all around the Great Basin...telling nearly every western story except the Mormon one" (19-21). A second challenge is that Mormon history (like all religious history) is written for two different audiences, often with conflicting perceptions and objectives. O n e audience, made up of the community of believers (be they Mormon or otherwise), favors a faith-affirming, heroic approach, whereas a second audience, made up of "the general public" and oriented toward academia, favors a more secular approach, wanting religious history presented from a social/scientific perspective (171-73). A third challenge involves the negative reaction to M o r m o n historical scholarship from church officials at the highest levels,

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increasingly evident over the past twenty years. Most outspoken has been Boyd K. Packer, acting president of the Council of the Twelve, who on various occasions has condemned frank portrayals of the LDS past influenced by the so-called " N e w M o r m o n History." Packer has explicitly warned "historians that LDS history was escaping the informal monitoring that made possible the classification of LDS history into clearly defined M o r m o n and anti-Mormon categories" (384). Space does not permit discussion of all the acute observations made by the author through the rich variety of essays in this volume. Shipps also offers tantalizing glimpses of her background, immediate family, and personal religious beliefs. But this reviewer would have liked more on these subjects, which raises a number of questions. In what ways were the author's perceptions of the M o r m o n past affected by her having been born and raised in the deep S o u t h — a n area n o t o r i o u s l y n o t e d for its strong a n t i M o r m o n heritage? Shipps's southern heritage surely must have influenced the choice of topic for her first published essay, "Second-Class Saints" (1962), which examined the status of blacks within Mormonism. Also w h a t w e r e t h e i n f l u e n c e s of t h e a u t h o r ' s family? Specifically what impact did Shipps's parents and other birth family members (nowhere even mentioned) have in forming the author's perceptions? This seems relevant, given the central role assigned to family within Latter-day Saint culture. A final, particularly cogent, question concerns the impact of Shipps's Protestant background and personal beliefs as an active practicing Methodist. Revealing is the author's confession that her "Methodist commitment" has not only continued but "even strengthened...over the many years that I have had the opportunity to learn more about Mormonism" (336-37). Despite these questions, Jan Shipps has produced an important work, essential reading for serious students of M o r m o n studies. It was most deserving of being honored with the M o r m o n History Association 2000 Best Book Award. NEWELL G. BRINGHURST College of the Sequoias Visalia, California

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Worldviews and the American West: The Life of the Place Itself Edited by Polly Steward, Steve Siporin, C.W Sullivan III, and Suzi Jones (Logan: Utah State University Press, 2000. viii + 257 pp. Paper, $19.95.) Worldviews and the American West: The Life of the Place Itself is a festschrift for distinguished folklorist of the American West and current director of the folklore studies program at Utah State University, Barre Toelken. As festschrifts go, one can usually expect an uneven and scattered thematic array of essays by scholars, former students, and colleagues, focused somewhat loosely on the area of study where the h o n o r e d individual made significant contributions. Oftentimes the essays are a combination of new material and dated, republished versions of earlier work. This is not the case, however, with Worldviews and the American West. Of the seventeen essays that comprise this collection, only five are reprinted and one of these, "The Language of Animals," is a fitting personal essay by naturalist writer and fellow Oregonian Barry Lopez. Lopez's essay grounds the rest of the essays into an American West which is all at once wild, part of a natural ecosystem, expanding, and succumbing to modernization, but at the same time it communicates a sense of place that is irrevocably tied to a landscape. Says Lopez, " W h e n I walk in the woods or along the creeks, I'm looking for integration, not conversation. I want to be bound more deeply into the place, to be included, even if only as a witness, in the events that animate the landscape" (12). It is this "integration" that the editors (indeed former students of Barre Toelken) and contributors use as their approach to this fine collection of essays. Each essay uses a particular lens to look at the American West, "variously applying Toelken's path-breaking ideas about worldview to the topic of the American West, a region that is both prominent in his work and a source of endless fascination" to the contributors of the collection (1). Lopez's essay also reminds readers of the diversity of the ecosystem we call the "American West," a diversity not only in terms of the ethnicity of its inhabitants but also one in terms of the languages of landscapes and how those languages shape ideas of the western environment and the worldviews of its inhabitants. For example, in his essay "Blue Shadows on H u m a n Drama," Hal Cannon writes about his quest to find and collect environmentally sensitive songs and stories having to do with the American West but discovering instead how "the cowboy is the symbolic recipient of an enchanted melding of western landscape through human

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UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

drama" (33). This drama, according to Cannon, is played out on the western landscape, where humans from many corners of the earth, domesticated and wild animals, and frontier wilderness rely on each other for long and "trying odysseys" (33). W i t h the study of the cowboy there are many jumping-off points. A collection of the kind described herein would be incomplete without essays dealing with cultural archetypes: the outlaw, "Jesse James: An American Outlaw" (Sullivan III); the m o d e r n regional folk hero, "John Campbell's Adventure, and the Ecology of Story" (Ramsey); Indians, "Faith of O u r Fathers" (Venn), " T h e Coquelle Indians and the Cultural 'Black Hole' of the Southern Oregon Coast" (Wasson), and "Raven and the Tide: A Tlingit Narrative" (Dauenhauer and Dauenhauer); and western communities, "'Two Moonlight Rides and a Picnic Lunch': Memories of Childhood in a Logging Community" (Scofield), "The Concept of the West and Other Hindrances to the Study of M o r m o n Folklore" (Wilson), and "Visible Landscapes/Invisible People: Negotiating the Power of Representation in a Mining Community" (McCarl). What makes this an especially compelling collection, however, is the inclusion of essays that go beyond what one might expect to find in a collection of this type, namely, silent voices of invisible humans: w o m e n , "In H e r O w n Words: Women's Frontier Friendships in Letters, Diaries, and R e m i n i s c e n c e s " (Brady); borderland cultures, "A Diversity of Dead Helpers: Folk Saints of the US-Mexico Borderlands" (Griffith); animals, "Tall Tales and Sales" (Siporin); and transients, "Local Character" (Stafford), all of w h o m are woven into the fabric of the American landscape. Finally, issues of m o d e r n i t y and p o s t - m o d e r n i t y and the representation and commodification of western icons and material culture are addressed in "Icons of Immortality: Forest Lawn and the American Way of Death" (Oring), and "Ride 'Em Barbie Girl: Commodifying Folklore, Place, and the Exotic" (Thomas). Enthusiasts of western American studies, folklore, history, and literature will find this collection an important and valuable lens into slices of American culture that are rarely examined. More important, the book is a tribute to the significant contributions and influence of American West scholar Barre Toelken. GEORGE H. SCHOEMAKER Utah Arts Council, Folk Arts Program

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U T A H STATE HISTORICAL

SOCIETY

Department of Community and Economic Development Division of State History

B O A R D

OE STATE

HISTORY

RICHARD W. SADLER, Ogden, 2003, Chair PAM MILLER, Price, 2003, Vice Chair GARY N.ANDERSON, Logan, 2 0 0 5 PAUL ANDERSON, Salt Lake City, 2 0 0 3 KENDALL W. BROWN, Provo, 2 0 0 5 MAX J. EVANS, Salt Lake City, Secretary MICHAEL W. HOMER, Salt Lake City, 2 0 0 5 KIM A. HYATT, Bountiful, 2 0 0 5 JOEL C.JANETSKI, Provo, 2 0 0 5 ROSS PETERSON, Logan, 2 0 0 3 PAUL D.WILLIAMS, Salt Lake City, 2 0 0 3 WALLY WRIGHT, Salt Lake City, 2 0 0 5

A D M I N I S T R A T I O N MAX J. EVANS, Director WILSON G. MARTIN, Associate Director PATRICIA SMITH-MANSFIELD, Assistant Director STANFORD J. LAYTON, Managing Editor KEVIN T.JONES, State Archaeologist

The Utah State Historical Society was organized in 1897 by public-spirited Utahns to collect, preserve, and publish Utah and related history. Today, under state sponsorship, the Society fulfills its obligations by publishing the Utah Historical Quarterly and other historical materials; collecting historic Utah artifacts; locating, documenting, and preserving historic and prehistoric buildings and sites; and maintaining a specialized research library. Donations and gifts to the Society's programs, museum, or its library are encouraged, for only through such means can it live up to its responsibility of preserving the record of Utah's past. This publication has been funded with the assistance of a matching grant-in-aid from the National Park Service, under provisions of the National Historic Preservation Act of 1966 as amended. This program receives financial assistance for identification and preservation of historic properties under Title VI of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act of 1973. The U S . Department of the Interior prohibits unlawful discrimination on the basis of race, color, national origin, age, or handicap in its federally assisted programs. If you believe you have been discriminated against in any program, activity, or facility as described above, or if you desire further information, please write to: Ofiace of Equal Opportunity, National Park Service, 1849 C Street, NW, Washington, D.C., 20240.



UTAH SPRING 2002

VOLUME 70

NUMBER 2


U T A H

H I S T O R I C A L

Q U A R T E R L Y

(ISSN 0042-143X)

E D I T O R I A L

STAFF

MAXJ. EVANS, Editor STANFORD J. LAYTON, Managing Editor KRISTEN SMART ROGERS, Associate Editor ALLAN KENT POWELL, Book Review Editor

A D V I S O R Y B O A R D

OF

E D I T O R S

NOEL A. CARMACK, Hyrum, 2003 LEE ANN KREUTZER,Torrey, 2003 ROBERT S. MCPHERSON, Blanding, 2004 MIRIAM B. MURPHY, Murray, 2003 ANTONETTE CHAMBERS NOBLE, Cora,WY, 2002 JANET BURTON SEEGMILLER, Cedar City, 2002 JOHN SILLITO, Ogden, 2004 GARY TOPPING, Salt Lake City, 2002 RONALD G.WATT,WestValley City, 2004

Utah Historical Quarterly was established in 1928 to publish articles, documents, and reviews contributing to knowledge of Utah history. The Quarterly is published four times a year by the Utah State Historical Society, 300 R i o Grande, Salt Lake City, Utah 84101. Phone (801) 533-3500 for membership and publications information. Members of the Society receive the Quarterly, Beehive History, Utah Preservation, and the bimonthly newsletter upon payment of the annual dues: individual, $25; institution, $25; student and senior citizen (age sixty-five or older), $20; sustaining, $35; patron, $50; business, $100.

Manuscripts submitted for publication should be double-spaced with endnotes. Authors are encouraged to include a P C diskette with the submission. For additional information on requirements, contact the managing editor. Articles and book reviews represent the views of the authors and are not necessarily those of the Utah State Historical Society.

Periodicals postage is paid at Salt Lake City, Utah. POSTMASTER: Send address change to Utah Historical Quarterly, 300 R i o Grande, Salt Lake City, Utah 84101.


SPRING 2002

V O L U M E 70

NUMBER 2

106

I N T H I S ISSUE

108

C o m i n g H o m e : C o m m u n i t y Baseball in Cache Valley, Utah By Jessie L. Embry and Adam Seth Darowski

123

Finns and the Winter Quarters M i n e Disaster By Craig Fuller

140

A n Explosive Lesson: G o m e r T h o m a s , Safety, and the Winter Quarters Mine Disaster By Nancy J. Taniguchi

158

Infant Deaths in Utah, 1850-1939 By Lee L. Bean, Ken R . Smith, Geraldine P. Mineau, Alison Fraser, and Diana Lane

174

B O O K REVIEWS James M. Cahalan. Edward Abbey: A Life R e v i e w e d by G a r y T o p p i n g

Colleen Whitley, ed. Worth Their Salt, Too: More Notable but Often Unnoted Women of Utah Reviewed by Cynthia Buckingham Donald G. Godfrey. Philo T. Farnsworth: The Father of Television Reviewed by H. Bert J e n s o n Willow Roberts Powers. Navajo Trading: The End of an Era R e v i e w e d b y R o b e r t S. M c P h e r s o n

Wade Davies. Healing Ways: Navajo Health Care in the Twentieth Century R e v i e w e d b y S t e p h e n C. S t u r g e o n

Oscar J. Martinez. Mexican- Origin People in the United States: A Topical History R e v i e w e d by J o r g e Iber

Robert A. Trennert. Riding the High Wire: Aerial Tramways in the West R e v i e w e d b y Frank W. Millsaps

Eilean Adams. Hell or High Water: James White's Disputed Passage through Grand Canyon, 1867 R e v i e w e d by W. L. Rusho

BOOK NOTICES

' COPYRIGHT 2002 UTAH STATE HISTORICAL SOCIETY


I N

T H I S

T

I S S U E

here are only two joys as succinctly wondrous as sitting beside an appreciative young lady and upstaging, for an instant, the infinite grace of Maya Plisetskaya," says R o b e r t Mayer in Baseball and Men's Lives. " O n e is watching the turning of an exquisite double play. The other, longer lasting, is turning one yourself." For most people, watching has had to be wondrous enough. But for countless numbers of young men through most of the twentieth century local baseball leagues have provided the opportunity to put aside their workday tools and worries, grab their gloves, bats, balls, and cleats and seek some weekend wonder at the municipal ballpark. It has been a defining slice of Americana—one that began with neighborhood Knickerbockers in the 1840s and then spread across the land just as fast as leisure time, population, and recreational dollars would allow. Taking its inspiration from the rise of big-time professional sports in the 1920s, community baseball blossomed as part of the national pastime. Nowhere did the summer game thrive more vigorously than in our own Cache Valley. By the 1950s, w h e n drive-in movies, tourism, and other leisure-time activities began to challenge baseball, hundreds of young men were still m e e t i n g on the diamonds of Smithfield, C o r n i s h , Trenton, Newton, and other northern Utah and southern Idaho towns to match skills and win bragging rights. The players and fans, the atmosphere, lore, and

106


color of this social phenomenon have escaped the notice of historians far too long. O u r first article in this issue takes a giant stride toward rectifying that oversight. The mood then turns toward the somber as our next two articles deal with one of Utah's greatest tragedies, the Winter Quarters mine explosion of May 1, 1900. The first analysis takes an ethnic twist, focusing on the Finnish victims and survivors. This stalwart group had a particularly heavy burden to bear; not only did they sustain heavy losses in lives but they also were forced to deal with lingering resentment within a community that held Finnish miners responsible for causing the lethal blast. By spotlighting particular families and individuals, the author helps us see the importance of cultural conditioning in providing strength and determination in facing such travail. The second Winter Quarters article looks at individuals as -well—this time safety inspectors w h o also came in for some hard questions and finger pointing. In the process, it illuminates many of the technical problems inherent in coal mining and confirms our suspicions that paradigm changes -within that industry were long overdue. O u r issue concludes with a look at infant mortality in Utah. Primarily a statistical analysis, it nevertheless offers sufficient anecdotal evidence to create a humanistic context. It is an article that can be read and appreciated on more than one level, and its conclusions will almost certainly offer a surprise or two. But however read and interpreted, it is sure to leave the readers quietly shaking their heads as they p o n d e r the hazards and heartaches of life before our easy access to modern health care. O n e of the nifty facets to history, however, is that triumph can always be found among sadness and personal loss. It is just a matter of panning back our contextual cameras a bit. There is something innately reassuring about the big picture. Little wonder that history remains America's best-selling nonfiction subject.

OPPOSITE: Young women playing baseball, c. 1900, probably in Cache County. ON THE COVER: The Levi Jones family mourns following the Winter Quarters Mine explosion May 1,1900. George E. Anderson photo, USHS.

of

107


C o m i n g H o m e : Community Baseball in Cache Valley, Utah By JESSIE L. EMBRY and A D A M SETH DAROWSKI

I

've read A. Bartlett Giamatti's analysis that baseball is a reflection of life in America. Our whole lives are about coming home. I'm not sure...we understood that. We knew baseball was a sport, but we took it very seriously or we were looked down on in the community. At least one day a week most people who were really good at baseball were considered the hierarchy of the community."1

Ernst L. Thayer's late nineteenth-century poem "Casey at the Bat" tells the story of proud Casey, w h o causes his team to lose a baseball game. In the poem Casey arrogantly refuses to swing at two good pitches. H e then swings at and misses the third. With Casey striking out, the ball game is over. T h e p o e m closes w i t h the famous lines, " T h e r e was n o j o y in Mudville / Mighty Casey had struck out." 2 "Casey at the Bat" refers to a time when baseball was the major recreational and social Wellsville baseball team, 1908. Jessie L. Embry is assistant director of the Charles R e d d Center for Western Studies at Brigham Young University. Adam Seth Darowski graduated from B Y U in August -with a degree in history. He is currently a law student at Duke University. 1 Kenneth Godfrey Oral History, interviewed by Jessie Embry, Logan, Utah, 2002. Cache Valley Baseball Oral History Project, Charles Redd Center for Western Studies, L.Tom Perry Special Collections, Harold B. Lee Library, Brigham Young University, Provo, Utah. (Unless otherwise indicated, all oral histories cited are part of this collection.) 2 Benjamin G. Rader, American Sports: From the Age of Folk Games to the Age of Televised Sports, 2d ed. (Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice Hall, 1990), 78-79.

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COMMUNITY BASKETBALL

activity in many towns and cities across the United States. At least once a week, usually on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon, townsfolk gathered at the ball field to root for the home team. These games bound communities together, crossing generational, religious, social, and economic barriers in remarkable ways. Baseball helped build communities. T h e story of the Cache Valley Baseball League provides a case study of h o w the game strengthened communities throughout the United States. This paper -will discuss the development of that league, the value of the sport to the rural towns, and the reasons why, later, local baseball nearly vanished in the valley 3 C o m m u n i t y is a catchword in American society today. From Hillary R o d h a m Clinton's catch-phrase "It takes a village to raise a child" to evolutionary psychologists' concerns that technology has made Americans too isolated and has caused depression and anxiety, Americans look back with nostalgia to rural villages where everyone knew each other. While there are many definitions of community, sociologist Larry Lyon's three elements fit well: "people living together within a specific area, sharing common ties, and interacting with one another." Former major league baseball commissioner A. Bartlett Giamatti explains how even one baseball game fits this definition: "Very soon the crowd is no crowd at all but a community, a small town of people sharing neither work nor pain nor deprivation nor anger b u t the c o m m o n e x p e r i e n c e of b e i n g released to enjoy t h e moment." 4 Many fear that this type of community has disappeared in American society. People often do not share experiences or activities with their neighbors. W h e n did this shift take place? Historian R o b e r t H.Wiebe's The Search for Order outlines a transfer bet-ween 1877 and 1920, arguing that while the Populist movement of the 1890s attempted to preserve community, the Progressives in the early 1900s represented a new middle class and a transfer of the "core" values to the national focus. In a technological age where the focus is on the larger society, the local community vanishes. Sports historians describe a similar transfer in the shift from town baseball to the major leagues. Foster R h e a Dulles argues, " T h e small town -was the backbone of the nation in the closing decades of the past century," and sports played an important role. "Everyone gathered at the ball park on a Saturday afternoon to watch the local team in action." But by the 1920s amateur playing was over, and Americans had become "a nation of onlookers." Historian Benjamin G. Rader agrees, referring to a transfer of baseball first from an informal game to a club (or town) sport and then to "a 3

This paper is based on articles in the Logan Herald Journal and interviews with players and fans. The authors have not found contemporary sources other than newspapers that include information on town baseball. While there were other leagues, and colleges and high schools played baseball on and off during this time period, these are beyond the scope of this paper. 4 Hillary Rodham Clinton, It Takes a Village and Other Lessons Children Teach Us (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1996); Robert Wright, "The Evolution of Despair," Time, August 28, 1995, 50-57; Larry Lyon, The Community in Urban Society (Philadelphia: Temple University, 1987), 5; A. Bartlett Giamatti, Take Time for Paradise (NewYork: Summit Books, 1989), 32.

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commercial, spectator-centered sport. T h e formation of the National League in 1876 signaled the arrival of baseball as a business enterprise." 5 Yet even w i t h the creation of business baseball, local t o w n teams continued, because baseball was a popular sport. Long after 1876, Cache Valley men, women, and children gathered every Saturday or Sunday to play baseball or cheer for the home team. Cache Valley remained isolated; television as a form of entertainment came slowly to the area. So "weekly baseball games were important until the 1960s. Then a shift took place, with more focus on the national scene and professional sports. But until then, baseball was one of the elements that held the small communities in northern Utah and southern Idaho together. During the nineteenth and early twentieth century, agriculture was the most important industry in Cache Valley. Farming required a great deal of manual labor. R e y Naegle, who was born in Cornish in 1937, recalled that the town had "approximately a h u n d r e d residents...and pretty nearly everybody there -were dairy farmers" w h o also raised hay, grain, sugar beets, and tomatoes, doing all the work by hand or with horses. "It was a lot of hard -work. W h e n we thought the work was done out in the field, then we would come in and milk the cows."6 But even earlier generations had found time to play. Holidays in the last quarter of the nineteenth century included parades, speeches, games, and food "climaxed by a baseball game." Historian F. Ross Peterson explains that both baseball and softball had "a consistent history in the valley." By the 1890s Cache Valley towns had baseball teams. Baseball rather than cricket came to be preferred in Utah and throughout the United States because "participants only needed a fairly level field upon which to play and minimal equipment—a stick and a ball." As a result, according to Peterson, " D u r i n g the World War I years and the 1920s, Cache Valley seemed preoccupied with baseball."7 That tradition continued. According to Wallace Kohler, "who played in N o r t h Logan during the 1950s and 1960s, 5 Robert H.Wiebe, The Search for Order, 1877-1920 (New York: Hill and Wang, 1967), 12, 84-85, 111—13, 121, 133, 139, 164; Foster Rhea Dulles, A History of Recreation: America Learns to Play, 2d ed. (New York: Appleton-Century Crofts, 1940), 248, 190-91, 345; Rader, American Sports, 64. 6 Rey Naegle Oral History, interviewed by Jessie Embry, Preston, Idaho, 2000, 3. 7 F. Ross Peterson, A History of Cache County (Salt Lake City: Utah State Historical Society and Cache County Commission, 1997), 265. This paper focuses on the Cache Valley Baseball League in the northern part of the county. Peterson explains, "While baseball seemed more popular and enduring in the north end of the valley, softball became dominant in the communities of the southern part of the county" (267). Although for a short time in the 1950s Wellsville, Mendon, and Hyrum had baseball teams and occasionally Logan did also, Logan and the towns on the south end mostly played softball. Ivan Christensen, a Providence native born in 1934, played on other baseball teams in the valley because Providence never had a baseball team but had a softball team instead. When asked why, Christensen replied, "I guess one thing was we never had a baseball field." RichardV. Hansen, who has managed the Smithfield Blue Sox team for more than fifty years, was not sure why either but confirmed, "That was the -way it was [in the south]. They were fast pitch [softball], and baseball was in the north end of the valley." Logan, the largest city in the valley and the county seat, occasionally had a baseball team, but according to Hansen, "They were the poorest-supported baseball of any. Even the little towns [could] outdraw the city of Logan." However, Logan did have several commercial softball leagues, and in 1948 the newspaper described softball as

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COMMUNITY BASKETBALL

"Playing ball was about the only entertainment" because "we could go play ball for free if we had a ball. Buying a glove was a big investment, but that was only once." 8 Saturday or Sunday afternoons were set aside to play ball. Since most t o w n residents were M o r m o n s , some frowned on Sunday baseball, preferring a half-day holiday on Saturday. 9 According to Naegle, " T h e farmers...would go work like dogs on Saturday up until noon. Everything came to a halt. The ones that played baseball would go play. The others that didn't -would go -watch. Saturday afternoon -was the recreation part of the day." As a result, according to Marcell Pitcher, a Cornish baseball player, "Baseball was king" there. Farmers would start work at "four o'clock in the morning on game day so as to have all the work done by noon." Cornish resident Verl M. Buxton added that this was an established pattern that even outsiders understood. Threshing crews w h o came to Cornish to harvest knew that everything stopped on Saturday afternoons. 10 This pattern was true throughout northern Cache Valley. Anthony Hall, from Lewiston, explained that even if his father had "hay out in the field, Saturday afternoon he went and played baseball." Farres Nyman of North Logan described some jobs like topping beets and irrigating that did not stop for baseball. But in Cornish, according to Verl Buxton, even the irrigating stopped.11 While there had been earlier leagues, the Cache Valley Baseball League started in 1919 when the Commercial Club met "for the purpose of forming a county baseball league." Lewiston, Richmond, Logan, and Preston (Idaho) were the founding members "organized on the principles of clean sportsmanship [and] good baseball." Usually there was only one league, but in the 1930s and late 1940s and 1950s, the league was split because more towns fielded teams. The increased involvement in the 1930s matched a "Logan's number one summer-time sport." See Ivan Christensen Oral History, interviewed by Jessie Embry, Providence, Utah, 2000, 4; Richard V. Hansen Oral History, interviewed by Jessie Embry, Amalga, Utah, 2000,3; Logan Herald Journal, May 25,1948. 8 Wallace Kohler Oral History, interviewed by Jessie Embry, North Logan, Utah, 2000, 4. 9 Based on our reading of the Herald Journal, the Cache Valley Baseball League usually played games on Saturday. The Utah-Idaho League, a more professional group, played on Sunday, sometimes drawing players from towns that had played on Saturday. Reed Woodland of Richmond noted, "When we played on Sunday, there were more fans." Mercell Pitcher of Cornish talked about how he worked to eliminate Sunday baseball in the Cache Valley Baseball League. See Reed Woodland Oral History, interviewed by Jessie Embry, Richmond, Utah, 2000, 8; Mercell Pitcher Oral History, interviewed by Jessie Embry, Preston, Idaho, 2000, 7. LDS apostle Heber J. Grant spoke out against Sunday baseball in 1913: "I am opposed to Sunday baseball, and have been so from my boyhood days. When a young man, I was passionately fond of the game. Today I am happy in contemplating the fact that, as much as I loved to play it, I never played a game on Sunday"; see G. Homer Durham, Gospel Standards: Selections from the Sermons and Writings of Heber J. Grant (Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1941), 249. "LDS" and "Mormon" refer to the Church ofJesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. 10 Eugene E. Campbell, "Social, Cultural, and Recreational Life," in Joel E. Ricks, ed., History of a Valley (Logan, U T : Cache Valley Centennial Commission, 1956), 420; Naegle Oral History, 5; Pitcher Oral History, 2, 3;Verl M. and Helen Buxton Oral History, interviewed by Jessie Embry, Cornish, Utah, 2000, 4. " Anthony Hall Oral History, interviewed by Jessie Embry, Lewiston, Utah, 2000, 6; Farres Nyman Oral History, interviewed by Jessie Embry, Smithfield, Utah, 2000, 5-6; Buxton Oral History, 4.

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Cornish team at the 1936 Franklin Little World Series. This team lost to Trenton that year. Caption

lists

on back row: Karl Hanson, Roy Erikson, Francis Bench, Roy Bingham, Dale Bergeson,

Ervin

Kendall, Douglas Bergeson. row: Brian Bergeson,

Front

James

Seamons, L. Butler, Arnold (Shorty) Troseth, Byron

Hanson,

Newell Lewis, Raymond

Dopp.

g r o w i n g interest in t o w n baseball t h r o u g h o u t t h e United States. Sports historian R i c h a r d O. D a v i e s explains, "In the 1930s baseball took on a greater degree of importance because people were looking for inexpensive entertainment and diversion." Times were hard, and baseball "provided a means of forgetting the sorry economic predicament for a few hours." Marcell Pitcher agreed: "We played ball [during the depression because] that didn't cost anything."12 Play stopped during World War II. There were games during the summer of 1941, the year of Pearl Harbor. In 1942, the Logan newspaper advertised softball, but it did not mention the Cache Valley Baseball League. Vaughn Richardson of Smithfield, who received a farm deferment during the war, remembered there -were not enough men left to play baseball. By 1946, after the servicemen had returned home, they were eager to play and the league started up again. Marcell Pitcher explained, "I don't remember just how it all came about. I know as soon as we got home, -we couldn't wait until the snow "was gone. We'd be out on the store corner. I can remember throwing balls back and forth just waiting for it to start. We then had the Cache Valley League organized." T h e newspaper reported in April 1948 that "play ball" was happening not only in the major leagues. "Cache Valley baseball loop...-will knock the lid from its barrel of activity on Saturday afternoon when the 12 teams square off in the initial round of a prolonged DIAL COLLECTIONS, USU

"1 3

season. The makeup of the Cache Valley League varied; twenty-six towns or companies fielded teams at some time between 1919 and 1966. Smithfield 12 Logan Journal, April 22, 1919; Richard O. Davies, Main Street Blues:The Decline of Small-Town America (Columbus: Ohio State University, 1998), 113; Pitcher Oral History, 11. 13 Herald Journal, May 2, 4, 24, 1942; Richardson Oral History, 12; Pitcher Oral History, 12; Herald Journal, April 10,1948.

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COMMUNITY BASKETBALL

Cornish team, Cache Valley Baseball League 1949 champions. Caption lists on back row: Gilbert Baker, Virginia Hanson,

Marcell

Pitcher, Blaine Abell, Grant Bair, Dale Bergeson, Garth

Bergeson,

Paul McKnight, Edith Pearce, Carl Hanson. Front row: Grant Erickson,

Don

Bingham, Wayne Price, LaVar Richmond, Byron Hanson, Dean Bergeson,

Verl Buxton. Boys in

front: Rod Pearce, Scott

Bergeson. SPECIAL COLLECTIONS, USU

usually had a team in the league and also played in other leagues, often drawing players from other town teams. Logan sometimes had two teams in the league, but usually it had n o n e , focusing instead on the Logan Collegians, who played in the Utah-Idaho League. Except during the years when the league was split in half, between eight and ten teams north of Logan in Utah and in southern Idaho played in the Cache Valley League. Towns that usually fielded baseball teams were Cornish, Clarkston, Hyde Park, Lewiston (sometimes two or three teams, the second team referred to as Southwest Lewiston and the third team as Lewiston Third, so named in reference to the LDS ward, although it was not a church-sponsored team), Trenton, Smithfield, and Richmond. Towns that occasionally had teams were Logan, North Logan, and Newton in Utah and Preston, Franklin, Weston, and Fairview in Idaho. Teams usually got their start when a group of men w h o wanted to play baseball gathered together. Sometimes the town provided support; at other times the players financed their own teams. Less often, businesses gave assistance.14 Each season was u n i q u e . In May 1932 the Logan Herald fournal announced that the Lewiston team was "organized and ready for business They are anxious to play -with any team in Cache Valley." The first games reported that year did not seem to be league play, however, but by J u n e the South Cache, N o r t h Cache, and Independent leagues -were operating. 15 The fournal reported many games, but not all of them. As Richard V Hansen, a player on and then manager of the Smithfield Blue Sox team, 14

The list of towns with teams was determined from reading the Herald Journal. For two years the North Logan team was sponsored by a local service station. Some interviewees discussed getting financial aid from their cities. But there are no clear records of who paid and how the league was organized. 15 Herald Journal, May 16,June 6,June 30, 1932; August 23, 1932.

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Championship

Cornish team in

the 1950s. Caption lists on back row: Paul McKnight,

Verl Buxton,

Marcell Pitcher, Rey Naegle, Steve Hinckley, John Hyde, Jay Cole, Dean Bambrough.

Front

row: Bill Veibell, Sammy

Kent,

LaVar Richmond, Jerry Pitcher, Lyle Darwin

Garth Karen, Godfrey,

Bingham.

SPECIAL COLLECTIONS, USU

explained, " T h e -winning team had to report the stuff in [to the paper] because the loser -will never do it."16 Some of the reports were quite flowery. W h e n Cornish won an upset in 1936, the newspaper explained, "With their star hurler Kendall silencing the heavy guns of the Southwest Lewiston sluggers, Cornish eked out a 3 to 2 victory in one of the best Cache Valley league games of the season The Cornish hurler's work in the pinches -was brilliant...cutting off the Lewiston hitters with only one run in the first and one in the fifth." Three years later, when Hyde Park beat North Logan 6—5 in ten innings, the paper reported, " W h e n the dust of the battle had cleared away and the grim players walked off the diamond after the tell tale last frame.. .CacheValley baseball fans agreed that they had just seen about the best display ofiValley circuit this season for tight playing and expert tactics."17 Baseball provided opportunities for players and fans to -work together, promoting the sense of community. Just organizing a team was an act of community. Vaughn Richardson and some friends went to the Smithfield City Council in 1937 and asked for money to start a baseball team. W h e n the city council said that it had no money, the twelve players pooled their funds and purchased some balls, bats, and catcher equipment. After World War II the team members decided they wanted lights so they could play night games. They again went to the city council members, w h o again explained that they had no money. T h e players worked together, using money from the gate receipts to install lights in 1948.18 A Cache Valley League rule specified that players had to live in the town for which they played. In 1948 a dispute arose when North Logan beat 16

Hansen Oral History, 16. Herald Journal, June 25, 1936June 12, 1939. 18 Vaughn Richardson Oral History, interviewed by Jessie Embry, Smithfield, Utah, 2000, 5, 7; Stan Richardson Oral History, interviewed by Jessie Embry, Beaver Creek, Utah, 2000, 4—5. 17

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Hyde Park 21-5 using a player who had moved. The North Logan team argued that their player still -worked in town, but Hyde Park protested and was awarded the game. Later, the rule was changed, so in a few cases when a player moved out of town the team paid for his gas to come back and play. For example, in the 1950s Verl Buxton went to carpentry school in Pocatello, Idaho, and came back to his h o m e t o w n of Cornish for the Saturday games. Players who traveled for their jobs, such as Hyde Park's Wade Howell, who -worked for a highway construction company, usually came home for the baseball games.19 The teams included boys in their early teens to men in their mid-forties. As R e y Naegle explained, the teams were "made up of the farmers' boys, the farmers themselves, -whatever they could scrape up, whoever could throw a ball, use a bat, or field a ball." Stan Richardson from Smithfield remembered he started playing in 1937 -when he was eighteen; he continued to play until almost 1950. Even when he could no longer play, he managed the Smithfield team. Wade Howell was injured in World War II, and although he could still hit, he could not run, so he became the manager of Hyde Park's team. But occasionally he would put himself in the game—and one time he hit a home run so he did not have to run the bases. Boys started playing as soon as they were good enough; age -was not a factor. Ken Godfrey remembered that some boys started playing before he did; he himself started in his mid-teens because the Cornish team needed someone in the outfield.20 Anthony Hall's father played for the Lewiston team, and the whole family usually went to the games. Anthony explained, "I was raised in a family that really liked baseball in the summer because that -was the only thing to do. I grew up with my dad telling me that he had taken me every Saturday as a little boy to watch him play." Hall did not remember seeing his dad play, but "that's the environment I grew up in. It was baseball-oriented every Saturday afternoon in the community of Lewiston." Hall continued to go to games with his brother. In the early 1960s, when he -was twelve, he and his fourteen-year-old brother -walked down to a game because the rest of the family could not go. The boys took their mitts in hopes of playing catch with a ball when it -was not in use. That -week Lewiston did not have enough players to field a team, so the manager asked the Hall boys to play. Both boys did well, making some outstanding plays, and so they became part of the team.21 Baseball created a community because it involved not only the players but also the entire town. Whole families came to the games. Nancy Karren

19 Herald Journal, June 17, 1948; Buxton Oral History, 2; Wade Howell Oral History, interviewed by Jessie Embry, Hyde Park, 2000, 3. 20 Naegle Oral History, 10; Stan Richardson Oral History, 1, 7, 12; Howell Oral History, 7; Godfrey Oral History, 4. 21 Hall Oral History, 1,4.

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Bingham, whose father played for the Smithfield team, drove with her mother and siblings to the game. Her mother put a mattress in the back of their 1956 Chevy. The family and many neighborhood children -watched from the car, and when Nancy got tired she would crawl in the back and fall asleep. She also sat under the scoreboard with other children and helped update the score. Eventually she started to watch the games. "I was very proud of my dad and loved to watch him play," she recalled.22 Farres Nyman remembered that his uncle Orvin Nyman managed the N o r t h Logan team, and when Farres was six years old Orvin asked him to be the team's official scorekeeper. Farres continued in that role and -was the team mascot until he was occasionally allowed to play after he turned fourteen. Wallace Kohler watched his father play on the N o r t h Logan team until he was old enough to play. H e loved going to the games not only for the entertainment but also for the gum that Orvin always had in his pocket for the children. Joyce Howell of Hyde Park remembered that everyone in town went to the games, but she was not as fond of baseball as the rest of the family was. Her first memory is of the time she was three years old and ran home from the ballpark, worrying her family23 Many players later remembered that almost the whole town turned out for the games. Ivan Christensen, w h o lived in Providence but played baseball for several towns during the 1950s, said, "Saturday afternoon -was baseball. Everybody came. T h e town would close down. They'd close the stores, and we'd have all the good townspeople there, cheering for their home t e a m — T h e y rolled up the side-walks until the game was over about six. Then they'd go back to living again."24 Stan Richardson recalled, "There would be a double or triple line of cars parked around the field. The grandstand would be full." In the 1950s an a n n o u n c e r , M . T. Van O r d e n , drove a r o u n d Smithfield a n n o u n c i n g , "Baseball tonight." Almost everyone could afford to come; in 1958 a family pass for the entire season in Smithfield cost $3.50.25 Anthony Hall remembered "a lot of people came to -watch" in Lewiston, and his father told him the fans -who "yelled the loudest and did the most cussing... we re some of the ladies They really got into watching their men play baseball." Nancy Karren Bingham especially noticed "when the fans would cheer for the other team. It seemed to me that the crowds were much more vocal then and really mean-spirited." Vaughn Richardson remembered playing in a tournament where he "hit a home run with two men on base and won that one." As he was walking to the bench, "a lady friend I had been seeing jumped out of the bleachers, came running right 22 Farrell Karren and Nancy Karren Bingham Oral History, interviewed by Jessie Embry, Smithfield, Utah, 2000, 1-4. 23 Nyman Oral History, 1-2; Kohler Oral History, 1; Joyce Howell, conversation with author, July 15, 2000. 24 Christensen Oral History, 11. 25 Stan Richardson Oral History, 4; Herald Journal, April 24,1958.

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out on the field, and gave me a big kiss." W h e n asked how that had happened, Richardson proudly explained, "You've got to be a hero to get along with beautiful girls."26 The game went on almost regardless of what happened. Alvin Hamson, a newcomer to North Logan in the 1950s, joked that baseball was so important that the players would wait until the game was over to put out a fire. Several Cornish residents recalled Gib Baker, a prominent farmer and president of the Cornish team, who was such a devoted fan that he followed the team to all the games and sat on the bench with the players. In the middle of one game, Baker had a heart attack and died. However, the game continued, since the players felt that was what he would have wanted. Besides, the men commented, such a death was the "way to go."27 The town residents followed their team around the valley. For those in the smaller towns, road games were special trips into neighboring towns. T h e fans cheered loudly for their teams at h o m e or away. Once, Jean N y m a n took her young son David to watch her husband Carl play in Preston. David shouted, "Daddy, hit a home run!" and Carl did. After that, everyone in the stands from North Logan yelled, "Daddy, hit a home run!" whenever Carl Nyman came up to bat.28 Players and fans had a sense of community pride; baseball created a sense of self-respect for many of the small towns. There were rivalries with the town up the road or the large communities. N o r t h Logan got equally "keyed u p " for most games, but its special rival was Hyde Park, the community just to the north. According to Farres Nyman, "The majority of the North Logan team were Nymans, and a majority of the Hyde Park were [relatives] of my mother." Hyde Park's Wade Howell said that, for his team, North Logan was the team to beat. "If we'd get them in North Logan, they'd beat us, and if we could get in Hyde Park, we'd beat them." Cornish had an excellent team and often won the league championship. Its rivals were nearby small towns such as Trenton and Clarkston. The rivalry with Trenton was so intense that Marcell Pitcher said that some people came to see a fight and not the game. But the greatest rivalry was with Smithfield, which as a larger town had more players to draw from. It was always exciting to defeat the big town, and Cornish often did. In fact, w h e n Vaughn Richardson from Smithfield was asked who his town's biggest rival was, he said, "Cornish was the hardest team to beat."29 Everyone wanted to beat the bigger towns. When Clarkston beat Logan and Smithfield lost to West Side (a team combining Weston and Dayton, Idaho) in the season-end 26

Hall Oral History, 6; Karren/Bingham Oral History, 4; Vaughn Richardson Oral History, 6. Alvin Hamson Oral History, interviewed by Jessie Embry, North Logan, 1998, North Logan Oral History Project, Charles Redd Center for Western Studies, L. Tom Perry Special Collections, Harold B. Lee Library, Brigham Young University, 22; Godfrey Oral History, 7; Buxton Oral History, 4. 28 Jean Nyman, conversation with author, August 20, 2000. 29 Nyman Oral History, 1; Howell Oral History, 7; Pitcher Oral History, 8; Vaughn Richardson Oral History, 9. 27

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tournament in August 1958, the newspaper explained, "Two little c o m m u nities walked around to several of the farmhouses, gathered up a baseball team, trekked on down to Hyde Park and proceeded to dump the Goliaths of Cache Valley baseball."30 However, baseball was more than one town pitted against another. It could also build a sense of c o m m u n i t y bet-ween the towns. For special occasions such as holidays or the Labor Day tournament, teams borrowed players from towns that were not competing. There "was mutual respect and assistance. Anthony Hall remembered that his cousin Stephen Hinckley, a native of Fairview w h o had played on a professional farm team, gave him pointers w h e n Hinckley was playing on the Lewiston team with Hall. But even the older players on other teams would give him valuable advice. H e remembered that Farrell Karren, a catcher and an excellent hitter for the Smithfield team, told him once, "Anthony, you keep working, and you're going to be a good baseball player." Hall continued, "That meant a lot to a young boy to have somebody that he kind of looked up to say [that]." 31 T h e players participated for the love of the game. For many of the boys and m e n it was their only recreation and a break from the long, h o t summers of farm work. So the league and the players were disappointed whenever a town could not field a team. Games were sometimes forfeited, but rather than not play, the team w h o had enough players would loan some to the other team. Marcell Pitcher remembered that one time the Cornish team loaned Bryon Hansen, one of its older players, to N o r t h Logan and then complained the player had no loyalty. H e "won the game for N o r t h Logan. 32 Sometimes, w i n n i n g or n o - h i t games were n o t the only goals. Stan Richardson was pitching for Smithfield during one game, and his brother C o n was catching. Stan asked C o n if he wanted to see h o w far Carl N y m a n could hit and C o n said, "Sure." So Stan pitched a ball he knew N y m a n could hit, and it soared out of the field. Winning was important, but after the game was over, the losers had the attitude, "We will get you next year" rather than the feeling that they had to win "at all cost."33 T h e game was the talk of the town all week. Every little town had a store where farmers gathered to chat and gossip, and the baseball game was usually the main subject. T h e Cornish store had the post office inside, and there "the farmers would kill a little bit of time and have baseball talk about

30

Herald Journal, August 31, 1958. Hall Oral History, 2. Besides Stephen Hinckley, who played some professional ball, Jerry Nyman, Farres Nyman's son, pitched for several professional teams; and several interviewees, including Hall, remembered a pitching duel between Hinckley and Nyman at the Labor Day tournament in Hyde Park. Professional scouts also looked at Stan Richardson and R e y Naegle, both pitchers. World War II prevented Richardson from trying out. The Utah State University coach convinced Naegle to play college ball, but too much throwing destroyed his pitching arm. 32 Pitcher Oral History, 10. 33 Hall Oral History, 4; Stan Richardson, conversation with author, June 2, 2000. 31

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w h o Cornish was going to play and h o w well they were doing. T h e big talk was always w h e n we would play Smithfield." Richard V Hansen, w h o made deliveries throughout the valley, stopped at the Cornish store as -well as at the ones in Trenton, Clarkston, and N e w t o n . " N o matter where you -went, baseball was the talk of their town," he noted. Ken Godfrey explained that the game was also the main discussion on Sundays. "Even some of our priesthood leaders encroached u p o n the time to rehash the ball games." 34 According to R e y Naegle, the main reason for baseball had been recreation, an opportunity for people to take time off from their work. B u t town baseball was more than just a pastime. Like in Mudville, the town players and fans cheered together and m o u r n e d together. As Wade Howell explained, baseball "was a lifeline If you beat one another it was w o n derful. If you lost to one another it -was terrible." 35 Baseball was so important that at times it superseded other community values. Cornish played a championship game one Sunday at the Sunday School hour. T h e M o r m o n bishopric debated "what to do and decided to postpone the church meeting since everyone would be at the game anyway Sunday School was held after dark that day 36 Some ball players, including M o r m o n s , celebrated their wins by gathering together for a beer. According to Helen Buxton, "We didn't talk about that. I think there was a lot m o r e of that going on It was what people did to be happy." Ken Godfrey remembered walking by the pool hall after Cornish -won the 1947 championship. " T h e team was in the pool hall drinking beer, including a couple of members of the bishopric. I think they rationalized their behavior by the fact that winning the championship, coming from the smallest community in the valley, was so important that the Word of Wisdom was at that m o m e n t secondary" 37 According to Anthony Hall, in the early days baseball "gave Lewiston and other communities like that a little identity." Whenever Lewiston residents went to church meetings in R i c h m o n d , they could feel pride if the Lewiston team had beat R i c h m o n d the year before. In Cornish, according to R e y Naegle,"it gave everybody...some pride because they did win their share of the championships." O r as Marcell Pitcher put it, "Baseball put Cornish on the map. We didn't have anything else to brag about. We were outcasts clear on the other side of the river." Helen Buxton agreed: "It was the heart of Cornish." Everyone put on their "second best clothes... [and] -watched our townspeople take on n e w roles," according to Ken Godfrey. " T h e y became our heroes. I can remember that we tended to admire those m e n w h o could hit h o m e runs and could make fabulous plays much more than w e did our ecclesiastical leaders." In these largely M o r m o n c o m m u n i 34

Naegle Oral History, 4; Hansen Oral History, 21; Godfrey Oral History, 1. Naegle Oral History, 14-15; Howell Oral History, 8. 36 Pitcher Oral History, 7, 16. 37 Buxton Oral History, 13—14; Godfrey Oral History, 9. T h e Word of Wisdom is an LDS health code prohibiting the use of alcoholic beverages. 35

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ties, baseball "united the churchgoers and the non-churchgoers." According to Farres Nyman, "I don't remember w h e n we didn't have baseball. That was the big thing on Saturdays in N o r t h Logan." 38 Eventually, however, the Cache Valley League stopped operating because towns no longer had teams. According to Richard V Hansen, the last year was 1966, and only five or six teams played that year. That year Hyde Park left the league. Henry Hodges, w h o had been president of the league, told Hansen, " W h e n those guys [Hyde Park] go, we're dead."39 W h y did baseball die out in most of the small towns in Cache Valley? F. Ross Peterson suggests that the LDS church's focus on fast-pitch softball during the 1930s might have been one reason for a declining interest in baseball. While that might have played a role, there were other factors. After all, some, like Wallace Kohler, played American Legion baseball, church softball, commercial softball, and town baseball all at the same time. T h e LDS church's shift in the 1970s from fast pitch to slow pitch, which gave more people a chance to participate and focused less on a good pitcher, possibly contributed to further decline. Anthony Hall said that most of the boys from Lewiston that were his age played softball "because there was more participation and you didn't have to have as good a pitcher." Ivan Christensen felt that young people of a later generation did not want to practice much, and baseball and fast-pitch softball were "skilled games" that "took time to learn." 40 According to Richard O. Davies, the baseball team in his h o m e t o w n of Canton, Ohio, "died...without a w h i m p e r " in 1953 after it "had carried the hopes and pride of the community on its shoulders" for years. Better access to professional games through radio, television, and travel made a difference in Canton because it was so close to Cincinnati. T h e same was true throughout America. N o t every town was close to a major league team, but the expansion of minor leagues also detracted from local baseball. However, Cache Valley residents did not discuss in their reminiscences traveling to Pioneer League games in Ogden, Salt Lake City, or Pocatello. According to the m e n w h o played baseball in Cache Valley, it was radio, and even more so television, that moved the focus from the town to the professional sports. W h e n fans c o u l d listen t o — a n d even m o r e i m p o r t a n t , watch—professional games, they had another choice of entertainment. Many Americans became "couch potatoes," and television "contributed to the growing nationalization" of sports. For fans, it was easier to "sit h o m e and watch a ball game in their front room," Hansen noted, even though "every kid in [earlier] days wanted to play baseball." But with television

38 Hall Oral History, 8; Naegle Oral History, 14; Pitcher Oral History, 17; Buxton Oral History, 13; Godfrey Oral History, 1, 8; Nyman Oral History, 1. 39 Hansen Oral History, 2. 40 Peterson, History of Cache County, 266; Kohler Oral History, 3; Hall Oral History, 13; Christensen Oral History, 11.

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they just watched. 41 Television was just one factor that changed the focus on baseball. The people who lived in the towns also changed. While for some time Cache Valley had remained isolated, new people began moving in. As Hansen explained, "The players all left town. The little farms all disappeared. The little guys who were working on the family farm...had gone to town, college, or got other jobs." Ken Godfrey, for example, -went to college; others went to the cities. N e w people moved in, and "baseball was not in their blood." N o r t h Logan, for example, began growing after World War II, bringing university professors and professionals who were "totally different as far as lifestyle." Farres Nyman said World War II helped end baseball in North Logan, and the sport did die there earlier than it did in communities located farther from Logan.42 There was a unique Cache Valley twist to baseball's demise. One team, the Smithfield Blue Sox, survived. According to Farrell Karren, Smithfield could not have continued without Richard V Hansen, who organized the leagues, scheduled the games, and found the players. W h e n other Cache Valley towns did not have teams, Hansen made arrangements for Smithfield to play in Ogden, Brigham City, and Salt Lake City. Everyone—including Hansen—agreed that Hansen himself was not a very good player. But he loved baseball. W h e n he had made the Smithfield team, he never missed a game for fear of being cut. And "when the ball team needed management, he took over a number of those responsibilities.43 But the town's strong team was "a double-edged sword," according to Anthony Hall. Smithfield kept baseball alive, but Hansen also "borrowed" the best players from around the valley, leaving other towns unable to compete. "Maybe the [uneven levels of] skill was a factor also," said Godfrey. "After the town league folded, some of the best players still got together But they were the best of the best." Wallace Kohler explained, "I think the thing that probably was the biggest demise to the league was when one of the teams decided that they wanted to import players and not use just p e o ple w h o lived in their community. Of course, they got a better team than the rest. That put a few dampers on a lot of the small communities that were fielding teams from just inside their city boundaries." 44 In recent years baseball has again increased in popularity in Cache Valley. The Smithfield Blue Sox continue to play under the direction of Richard V Hansen. But now, instead of having to travel beyond the valley for games, the team can compete against teams from Preston, Providence, and Hyrum. Baseball is popular from Little League to high school. American Legion 41

Davies, Main Street Blues, 154; Rader, American Sports, 244—45; Hansen Oral History, 20. Hansen Oral History, 20, 22; Godfrey Oral History, 10; Nyman Oral History, 13. 43 Karren/Bingham Oral History, 7; Hansen Oral History, 18. F Ross Peterson also credits Hansen with being the inspiration of the Smithfield team; see Peterson, History of Cache County, 267. The town has named its local ballpark after Hansen. 44 Hall Oral History, 3; Godfrey Oral History, 10; Kohler Oral History, 2. 42

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team rosters often match those of the high school teams during summer play. The Blue Sox team plays the American Legion Smithfield Aztecs every Memorial Day to open the season and raise funds for the American Legion team. Attendance is spotty, however; these games draw only those who love the sport.45 Small towns no longer sponsor teams. The glory days of town baseball have disappeared from Cache Valley, taking -with them some of the sense of community that once united town residents. But unlike the fans in Mudville, -where no joy remained, the players and fans of these northern Utah teams recall their experiences -with smiles, nostalgia, and a sense of special meaning.

45 In 2000 the Smithfield Blue Sox team played in the Beehive State and Northern Utah leagues. Several years before, Providence, Preston, and Hyrum in Cache Valley had become part of the Northern Utah League along with Bear River (Tremonton) and Weber. Providence was also a member of the Beehive League along with the Tara Wildcats, the Salt Lake Anchors, and the Utah Braves. In addition, Hansen made arrangements to play teams out of the area. In 2000 the Blue Sox went to Sun Valley. See Hansen Oral History.

122


Finns and the Winter Quarters Mine Disaster By CRAIG FULLER

A / I ^ ' " l *JL. - J L

n immigrant did I become Homeless now I wander; Like an orphan I roam Ever remembering my birth land.1

For the elderly Finnish couple Abram (age seventy) and Kaisa (age sixty) Luoma, Tuesday, May 1, 1900, promised to be another joyous day with their recently reunited family in the small coal mining camp ofWinter Quarters, Utah. 2 For many months, Abram and Kaisa had been separated from their adult children, who had joined thousands of other Finns immigrating to the United States in search of work. In the spring of 1900 the six Luoma brothers and two of their teenage children found steady work in the coal mines at Winter Quarters, Utah. With employment secured, the Luoma children persuaded their parents to leave Finland and j o i n t h e m in U t a h , where Abram and Kaisa were promised that inlanders at the house of the their needs in their declining years would be Luoma brothers after the explomet. The decision to leave the homeland for sion at the Winter Quarters Mine. Craig Fuller is a historian at the Utah State Historical Society. The author wishes to thank Philip F. Notarianni and Timo Riipa for their assistance in the preparation of this paper. Except for those supplied by the author, the photographs are from USHS collections; most if not all of the photos of the explosion's aftermath are by George Edward Anderson. 1 Quoted in William Hoglund, Finnish Immigrants in America, 1880—1920 (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1960), 34. 2 The original family name of Isoluoma was shortened to Luoma in many written records. In several instances, it was also misspelled.

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the United States was a difficult one. However, a united family was important to Abram and Kaisa, and in the spring of 1900 the couple purchased two one-way tickets from Kokkola, Finland, to Scofield, Utah. 3 Most of the 1,600 residents of Pleasant Valley had another reason to celebrate on May 1. Two years earlier, during the Spanish-American War, the A m e r i c a n navy had w o n a s t u n n i n g v i c t o r y in Manila Bay in t h e Philippines. 4 Kaisa and Abram and their large family along with other Finns in the three mining camps of Clear Creek, Scofield, and Winter Quarters were eager to join in celebrating Dewey Day with a dance and other forms of socializing following the end of the day shift at the Winter Quarters numbers 1 and 4 mines. For Abram and Kaisa this was to be their first patriotic experience in the United States. However, these pleasant expectations -were dashed when at about 10:25 a.m., shortly after the morning shift of the Pleasant Valley Coal Company had begun -work, the mining camp of Winter Quarters—located a few hundred yards from the two portals—felt a shock that was immediately followed by a noise that sounded to some like a cannon being fired or a stick of dynamite being set off. At Scofield, a mile or so away, the muffled noise -was first thought to have been someone prematurely celebrating Dewey Day. These impressions changed quickly when word came from Winter Quarters that a powerful explosion had occurred deep underground in the mine. W i t h i n the hour, dozens of families and loved ones from W i n t e r Quarters and Scofield gathered near the portals of the mine to await news of their relatives. Joining the vigil were dozens of Finnish families -who lived in "Finn Town," located a short distance down the canyon from the main section of Winter Quarters. Kaisa and Abram Luoma joined their countrymen to await word of their family. After waiting anxiously for most of the day while victim after victim was carried out on stretchers, Abram and Kaisa received word that five of their sons and other family members were among the dead.5 For the Luomas and the other Finnish families, the days and weeks ahead would test the intestinal fortitude, stamina, and courage best described in Finnish by the word sisu. As many as 200 men—some sixty of them Finns—were killed in the explosion. In numbers of Finns killed, this explosion would be the secondcostliest disaster in the United States, surpassed only by the explosion at the Hanna No. 1 Mine in Hanna, Wyoming, -where as many as 100 Finnish miners were killed in early June 1903. 6 The Winter Quarters explosion also 3 At the time, the cost of two one-way tickets from Kokkola to Scofield was $164. See Migration Institute, www.migrationinstitute.fi/migration/ml (May 28, 1999). 4 The Salt Lake Tribune editorialized on May 1, 1900, that Dewey's victory "should be a holiday [and] it should be kept as one of the nation's sacred days." 5 Deseret News, May 5, 1900. On the day of the funeral at Scofield, the Deseret News reported sixty-one Finns killed and three unidentified or missing. 6 The Deseret News, July 1, 1903, reported: "About 100 [of the 234 dead miners in Hanna] were Finlanders." Like many early accounts of disasters, the total number reported killed by the newspapers was higher than the later, official count. The official number killed in the Hanna No. 1 Mine was 169. See

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Wreckage at the mouth of the No. 4 Mine after the Winter Quarters explosion.

b e c a m e t h e w o r s t coal mine disaster in Utah history and the fourth-deadliest coal m i n e disaster in American history. It ranks fifth overall in the number of miners killed in mining accidents. 7 W h a t brought Finns to the Intermountain region and to Utah? For more than a quarter of a century, Finland, then under rule of the Russian czars, had experienced dramatic economic, political, and social changes. Among these changes were the consolidation of land holdings, industrialization of its timber enterprises, expansion of its railroad network, and a growing spirit of nationalism coupled with increased cultural and political suppression by Russia. Traditional work was disrupted or altered, and for many Finns immigration to the United States and to the Intermountain region was the answer to unemployment and poor economic conditions. 8 By the end of the nineteenth century, the number of foreign-born Finns in the states of Montana, Wyoming, Utah, and Colorado exceeded 5,300, or about 8.5 percent of the total number of foreign-born Finns in the United States.9 T h e percentage of Finns in the Intermountain region remained small compared to other parts of the United States, particularly the copper and iron ore mining locations in Michigan, Minnesota, and Wisconsin. Montana led the region -with a Finnish-born population of 2,103, followed by Wyoming and Colorado. Utah's population stood at only 734 in 1900.10

H. B. Humphrey, "Historical Summary of Coal Mine Explosions in the United States, 1810-1958," Bureau of Mines Bulletin 586 (1960), 22. 7 Humphrey, "Historical Summary," 17, 22-23. The exact number of dead will likely never be known. Days after the explosion and when most of the dead had been buried, the Salt Lake Tribune on May 6 suggested that as many as 250 miners had been killed. 8 Poor economic conditions and high unemployment were not unique to Finns. For examples of other immigrants trying to escape economic turmoil and other disruptive conditions, see Philip F. Notarianni, "Italianita in Utah," and Joseph Stipanovich, "Falcons in Flight: The Yugoslavs," in Helen Z. Papanikolas, ed., The Peoples of Utah (Salt Lake City: Utah State Historical Society, 1976). 9 For a study of Finns in Red Lodge, Montana, see Arlene Harris, "The Red Lodge Finns," in Shirley Zupan and Harry J. Owens, eds., Red Lodge: Saga of a Western Area (Carbon County, MT: Carbon County Historical Society, 1979), 179-87. 10 Matti E. Kaups, "The Finns in the Copper and Iron Ore Mines of the Western Great Lakes Region, 1864—1905: Some Preliminary Observations," in Michael G. Kami, Matti E. Kaups, and Douglas J. Ollila, Jr., eds., The Finnish Experience in the Western Great Lakes Region: New Perspectives (Turku, Finland: Institute for Migration, 1975), 55; http://www.migrationinstitute.fi/migration (May 28, 1999).

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The coal mining camp of Clear Creek.

T h e n u m b e r of f o r e i g n born Finns in the Beehive State r e a c h e d 1,012 in 1910, less than 0.3 percent of the state's p o p u l a t i o n . T h a t same year, the total population of foreign-born Finns in the Intermountain states was 9,154. n T h e i m m i g r a t i o n story of Matti and Kalle Tokoi, two brothers from the small agricultural village of Lohtoja, Vaasa province, and that of Matti's son Oskari, illustrates the Finnish immigration experience to the Intermountain West. The Tokoi brothers had purchased a small farm during a period of high mortgage rates and of changes in agriculture and land ownership in several provinces of Finland. They were forced to mortgage their farm. With low agricultural prices and slim prospects of earning money elsewhere in Finland to pay off their indebtedness, Matti and Kalle immigrated to Carbon County, Wyoming, -where they and hundreds of other Finns found plenty of work in the coal mines owned by the Union Pacific Coal Company, a subsidiary of the Union Pacific Railroad Company Through several years of hard work and frugality, the two brothers earned enough money to return to their farm and pay off the existing mortgage. However, on the heels of the return of his father and uncle, Oskari Tokoi also immigrated to southern Wyoming, where he too -went to -work as a coal miner. Oskari later wrote of his j o u r n e y to southern Wyoming: "I merely followed that tradition in which my father and uncle had preceded me."12 Employment opportunities were also plentiful in the hard rock and coal mines in Utah near the end of the nineteenth century. Among some of the earliest Finnish immigrants to Utah were Herman Berg and his Swedishborn wife, Karin, and the Hilstrom family. At the time of the 1900 census, the Berg family had lived in Park City for fourteen years, and the Hilstroms had been in Utah for nine years. Finns and Finnish-Swedes found employ11 The highest number of foreign-born Finns was recorded in 1920, when the census revealed 149,824 first-generation Finns living in the United States. This peak number came on the heels of war in Europe and the Finnish struggle for independence from the Soviet Union. 12 Oskari Tokoi, Sisu "Even through a Stone Wall": The Autobiography of Oskari Tokoi (New York: Robert Speller & Sons, 1957), 35. Unlike his father and uncle, Oskari immigrated to southern Wyoming because of personal problems. Like his uncle and father, he too eventually returned to Finland, where he later served briefly as president of the Finnish national assembly.

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WINTER QUARTERS MINE DISASTER

The flowers donated by school children of Salt Lake City and the railroad car that carried the flowers to Scofield.

ment in the silver and lead mines at Park City, Bingham Canyon, Ophir, Mercur, and Eureka. There was a sufficiently large population of Finns and Finnish-Swedes in Eureka that by 1908 they were able to acquire a large building identified on fire insurance maps as "Finn Hall." Located near the corner of Beck and Railroad streets in Eureka, Finn Hall provided a place for Finns to socialize and hold temperance meetings, and it probably served as a church as well.13 Some of the earliest arrivals of Finnish families to Pleasant Valley in Carbon County 14 were John Erickson, William and Lezzie Katka, Alexander Kivla, Samuel Nisula, Jacob and Etta Peklajohn and Susie Kokla, and Jacob and Josephine Vali and their two children. These Finnish families and at least half of the Finnish miners killed in the May 1 mining disaster had emigrated from the same western province that members of the Tokoi family had lived in. In fact, as many as half of all Finns who immigrated to the United States between the 1880s and World War I came from theVaasa province. 15 Other early Finnish immigrants to Pleasant Valley were Andrew and Hilma Koski. They came from the coal fields of southern Wyoming sometime between 1895, when their daughter Elizabeth was born, and 1899, the year Hilma gave birth to John, their second child. Mrs. Vilhelmina Maki, her husband, and their four children were also prior residents of Wyoming. Vilhelmina's two oldest children, Susanna and Elizabeth, were born in Wyoming, and Katrina was b o r n in Colorado. Vilhemina's last child, 13 Sanborn Fire Insurance Map, Eureka, Utah, 1908; copy at the Utah State Historical Society, Salt Lake City (USHS). Finnish-Swedes were Finns who mainly spoke Swedish, had Swedish ancestors, and lived primarily on the west coast of Finland. 14 By the end of the nineteenth century, the Pleasant Valley Coal Company was one of the leading producers of coal in the state. In 1899, for example, Pleasant Valley Coal production exceeded 466,000 short tons; Salt Lake Herald, December 31, 1899. l5 Timo Orta, "Finnish Emigration Prior to 1893: Economic, Demographic and Social Backgrounds," and A.William Hoglund,"No Land for Finns: Critics and Reformers View the Rural Exodus from Finland to America between the 1880s and World War I," in Kami et al., eds., The Finnish Experience in the Western Great Lakes Region; Henry Samuel Heimonen, "Finnish Rural Culture in South Ostrobothnia (Finland) and the Lake Superior Region (US)" (Ph.D. diss., University of Minnesota, 1941), 5, cited m Cotton Mather and Matti Kaups, "The Finnish Sauna: A Cultural Index to Settlement," Association of American Geographic Annals 53 (1953): 499. I wish to thank Dr. John Lefgren for providing me with some immigration data on the Finns who died at Winter Quarters. Through his own research while at the University of Helsinki, Dr. Lefgren found in the Siirtolainen (May-August 1900), a Finnish immigrant newspaper published in the United States, a partial list of Finnish victims of the Winter Quarters mine disaster and their home villages.

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UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

Caskets brought from Salt Lake City and Denver being

unloaded

from a boxcar at the Wasatch Store at Winter

Quarters.

Johanna, was just eighteen months old in May 1900.16 T h e Koski, Maki, and other Finnish families settled in the two coal camps of Clear Creek and Winter Quarters, the latter being the larger of the two coal camps in Pleasant Valley. At Clear Creek, the Finns congregated in a small side canyon identified as "Finn Canyon." There the Finns built themselves "a number of dwellings," "a large hotel," and several boardinghouses. 17 Finnish miner John Singo and his wife, Mary, with the help of a twenty-year-old Finnish woman, Jastina Wartela, operated a boardinghouse for ten single Finnish miners. Mat Koski (also spelled Kaski), age thirty-seven, was the Singos' oldest boarder, and Mat Hansen was the youngest at age seventeen. Leander and Ida Pesola (or Pecila) also operated a boardinghouse in Finn Canyon for ten single Finnish miners. Still another boardinghouse bedded seven Finns, including Walter Luoma, a forty-nine-year-old miner who -was likely one of the sons of Kaisa and Abram Luoma. 18 Finns also lived in a segregated section of W i n t e r Quarters called "Finland," "Finn Town," or "upper camp." O n e Winter Quarters miner described Finn Town as being about "a half a mile...between the nearest Finn home and the first houses of'white men.' Out there indeed, the Finn is a stranger in a strange land." Few "white men's cabins" were found in Finn Town, and those "whites" -who did live there did so "not from the choice of their inhabitants." 19 Here, then, was an indication of ethnic segregation. Finns were viewed as being non-white (or non-American), possessing a different culture and social system. The imposed system of ethnic segregation for the Finns would change with the passage of a few short years as immigrants from other parts of the world came to Carbon C o u n t y and U t a h to work in the mines and smelters. For example, when Slavic and Italian miners among others struck 16 United States Manuscript Census, 1900; microfilm copy at USHS. There were several Makis killed in the explosion, and it is likely that one of them wasVilhemina's husband. 17 Salt Lake Herald, December 31, 1899. '8 These three Finnish boardinghouses continued to board single Finnish miners after the Winter Quarters disaster. See Utah Fuel Records, MS 154, Special Collections, Harold B. Lee Library, Brigham Young University, Provo, Utah. 19 Salt Lake Herald, May 9, 1900.

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WINTER QUARTERS MINE DISASTER

The Neelo Maki sauna in Scofield.

against the Carbon County coal c o m p a n i e s in 1 9 0 3 , some Finns participated in the picketing. However, other Finns refused to join

the labor m o v e m e n t and were physically threatened by Italian strikers. 2 0 Elsewhere, Finns such as John Westerdahl joined the ranks of mine management. Eventually, Westerdahl became superintendent of the Tintic Standard Mine in Dividend, Juab County. Mary Korpi, whose husband was likely John Korpi, a victim of the explosion, operated the largest of the Finnish boardinghouses in Winter Quarters, housing eighteen boarders. 21 Mary had hired Helena Ogin, a Finnish girl who was about nineteen years old and single, to help with the laundry, prepare the meals, and care for the Finnish boarders. Korpi's youngest boarder -was Voluntine Lakso, twenty-one; the oldest -was John Harris, age forty-four. Fred Lehto and his wife Hannah also boarded a few Finnish miners, and Oscary (Oscari) Camp and his wife Anna boarded three Finnish men. A number of the single Finnish miners lived in several boardinghouses in Finn Town. O f the three coal camps in Pleasant Valley, Scofield had the fewest Finnish residents, less than a handful. Among them was Andrew Koski, w h o with his partner Johnson (perhaps James Johnson, born in Denmark) had just completed a two-story stone and -wood building. The second floor -was Koski's and Johnson's residence, and the ground floor housed a jewelry store and "Russian baths"—better known as the Finnish sauna.22 Geographer Eugene Van Cleef noted in 1918 that in the United States the Finnish sauna was a distinct "sign of the Finn."23 It is still perhaps the oldest cultural element of the Finnish people, providing a place -where several important ritualistic or near-sacred functions in Finnish culture occur. In addition to being a room or small building -where one cleansed 20

Utah Fuel Records, MS 154, Special Collections, Brigham Young University. The 1900 federal census shows Korpi spelled Korp.The Scofield sexton's record lists a John J[a]vikorpi, and the Siirolainen and Pohjolainen list a John Korpi among the dead Finnish miners. Mary Korpi continued to live in Winter Quarters for several years after the disaster; see United States Manuscript Census, 1900 and 1910. 22 Salt Lake Herald, April 12, 1900. The "Russian baths" were probably so-named because Finland was part of the Russian empire until December 6, 1917, when the Finnish parliament issued a public declaration of independence. 23 Eugene Van Cleef, "The Finn in America," Geographical Review 6 (1918): 210, quoted in Mather and Kaups, "The Finnish Sauna," 497. 21

129


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY TOP: The Scofield District

School

was one place where the bodies were prepared for burial. BOTTOM: Inside the Scofield schoolhouse.

the body, the dry heat sauna was t h o u g h t also to help purge the soul. T h e sauna was a place of contemplation, and a visit to the sauna w h e n ill often aided in overcoming the illness. An old Finnish proverb states: "If a sauna and brandy cannot help the man, death is near at hand."24 As i m p o r t a n t as these activities were to the Finns, perhaps the most i m p o r t a n t , at least in rural Finland, was the use of the sauna as a birthing room. It p r o v i d e d a w a r m clean place where women could JSIS^^give birth to their babies. Most likely, Mary Singo delivered her baby son in Koski's newly constructed public sauna, and if so she would have probably been the first of many Finnish women to do so. Eighty years later, all that remained of Koski's "Russian baths" was a collapsed stone building; no sign of it remains today. At present, only one or two private Finnish saunas are in use in Pleasant Valley. By the spring of 1900, when Mary Singo was giving birth, the Pleasant Valley Coal Company was operating "full blast" with two shifts of 800 miners mining on average 2,000 tons a day. The Finnish miners and all others "were getting all the work they could do" in the two day shifts and were hard-pressed to fill all of the company's contracts. 21 Adding to the heavy demands on its labor force, the Pleasant Valley Coal Company was awarded another substantial coal contract—to supply the United States Navy with 600 tons of coal per day. Ironically, the contract was to begin on May 1,1900.26 •

24

',-..•.,

„ „

Mather and Kaups, "The Finnish Sauna," 498. Salt LakeTribune, May 7, 1900; Deseret News, May 2, 1900. 2 " Salt LakeTribune, May 2, 1900.

25

130


WINTER QUARTERS MINE DISASTER TOP: Provo group that arrived to help dig graves in Scofield. BOTTOM: Funeral services at the Scofield Cemetery.

Even as the miners were working at a frenetic pace to fill the company's coal contracts, the company undertook the task of maki n g i m p r o v e m e n t s in the P i k e ' s P e a k area of t h e m i n e . T h e r e the company w a n t e d to straighten o u t the tunnel by removing a section of the wall. James Jenkins and T. F. Eynon had been hired for the j o b but -were r e p l a c e d by Isaac M a k i and an unidentified c o - w o r k e r . Before b e i n g replaced, Jenkins and E y n o n h a d s t o c k p i l e d in t h e c o n s t r u c t i o n area as m a n y as 171 sticks of Hercules N o . 2 giant p o w der (dynamite). W h e n Maki and the other Finn took over the project, they carried in and stored an additional 450 sticks of giant powder, thus creating a sizeable magazine of explosives. Several of the more experienced miners became concerned over the amount of explosives the Finns were storing. Other miners were alarmed that the Finns seemed to lack experience in using explosives in coal m i n ing. William Coulthard, a former coal mine inspector from Colorado, -was asked by Utah coal mine inspector Gomer Thomas about the coal dust in the mine and the Finns' handling of explosives. Coulthard stated that the mine was safe, at least when it came to the management of the coal dust. After the explosion, however, he said, " M y opinion is different n o w from what it was before; I never thought there -was any danger in dust previous to this [the explosion]." H e then added: " T h e Finlanders were very careless; they would fire from three to four shots one after another. I have seen, after they have fired a large shot, a blaze shoot across the face "27 Report of State Coal Mine Inspectorfor 1900, 77-78, copy at USHS. Coulthard lost a son in the explosion.

131


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY New grave markers placed centennial

commemoration

May 1, 2000, beside the

for on

original,

weathered, markers in the Scofield

Cemetery.

Another miner, when asked about the explosion and the feelings of the miners toward the Finnish miners, said, "Everyone was very bitter towards the Finns." T h e y were particularly angry at the way Finns handled explosives. " T h e y are said to have b e e n in the habit of putting in blasts of giant powder at the bottom or near the floor which had the effect of cutting up the dust and ultimately causing the explosion." 28 Just two months earlier, a h u r r i e d blown-shot in one of the mines had resulted in a small explosion; fortunately there were no reported fatalities or injuries. 29 T h e existing record of mining activities does not reveal w h o -was to blame for this hurried shot. Below-ground in the mines as -well as above the ground, the Finns were for the most part segregated from the other miners. At the time of the disaster, Finns worked in what was identified as the "Finnish" level, which some miners considered to be filled with much more coal dust than were other areas of the mine. "Did you ever hear anyone complain about it [the mine] being dusty or dangerous?" mine inspector T h o m a s asked m i n e r William R . Davis days after the explosion. " N o , I never heard anyone [complain]. I heard several say about the Finnish level that she was pretty dusty."30 T h e two explosions occurred in quick succession at about 10:25 a.m. W. C. Wilson, a miner with twenty-six years of experience and one of the survivors of the disaster, was at work in the N o . 1 Mine w h e n he noticed "a low rumbling noise heard in the distance, followed by a sort of wave that can hardly be described but this is k n o w n to all w h o have been in explosions, and I have been in several. I said to my partner that if gas was k n o w n to exist in the mine I should say that an explosion had occurred. I advised that -we flee to the m o u t h of the tunnel, and w i t h m e came six m e n working in that section." 31 Jack Wilson, a lad not m u c h older than fourteen, had just entered one of the portals -with three horses. Horsepower was used to move coal cars in ;

Salt Lake Herald, May 5, 1900. H . B. Humphrey,"Historical Summary," 5. 'Report of State Coal Mine Inspectorfor 1900, 19. Salt Lake Tribune, May 2, 1900. 1

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WINTER QUARTERS MINE DISASTER

and out of the mines, and it was Wilson's job as a driver to move the coal cars about. The violent force of air from the explosion threw him "across the gulch at least 150 yards among the small trees and underbrush," where he was miraculously found alive a short time later. His three horses were not so fortunate. Two of them were found dead a few yards just inside the mine. The third horse was blown fifty yards from the portal of the mine. It, too, was found dead.32 Within minutes following the explosion, mine superintendent Thomas J. Parmley set about to organize rescue teams. Mine rescue teams also hurried from Castle Gate to aid in the efforts. The work of locating the dead went slowly. Even though the rescue teams were equipped with breathing apparatuses, the deadly after-damp, or carbon monoxide, prohibited long stays in the mine. Fresh rescue teams rotated in to retrieve the dead and possibly rescue the living. By the end of the day it was apparent that there were few survivors besides those w h o had reached the portals on their own. Rescue teams had recovered 165 bodies. Enmity toward the Finns grew particularly venomous among some members of the rescue teams. "If there was a way to get out the Americans and let the Finns go, they would stay there ten years before we could touch them," one said.33 The hostility increased when one of the rescue teams found the badly "burned and seared" body of Isaac Maki near the Pike's Peak area of the mine, the area where the large cache of explosives had been stored. For some of the angry miners, the recovery of Maki and the condition in which he was found was the needed proof that the Finns' carelessness and inexperience had caused the explosion. It became apparent that nearly every family and all of the Finns in the three coal camps had experienced a loss. Mary Ann Aho was more fortunate than many other Finnish women in that by a stroke of good luck her husband Mat was saved from the explosion. However, she lost five brothers and four nephews in the disaster. T h e newly settled Abram and Kaisa Luoma lost a total of eight family members; only one of their adult male children survived.34 Temporary morgues and charnel houses were located at the Winter Quarters LDS (Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints) church, the public school, and several boardinghouses. Here, grieving relatives and others were asked to perform the grim task of identifying the dead. Name tags were placed on the toes of the victims, and the dead were then removed to individual cabins or boardinghouses. Families and friends held wakes over the bodies until the mass funeral, which was held at the Scofield cemetery on Saturday, or until the bodies could be shipped by rail to the miners' hometowns for interment. 32

Salt Lake Herald, May 2,1900. Ibid., May 6, 1900. 34 Ibid., May 9, 1900. 33

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UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

Alone and -without a member of their own clergy, the Pleasant Valley Finnish community urgently sent word to R o c k Springs for a Finnishspeaking Lutheran minister to come and conduct graveside services for their dead c o u n t r y m e n . R o c k Springs, w i t h its larger p o p u l a t i o n of foreign-born Finns, served as the cultural and social center for most of the Finnish communities of northern Utah at the turn of the twentieth century. O n e of the earliest and strongest Finnish Lutheran congregations in the region was the Finnish Evangelical Lutheran National Church in R o c k Springs. It was from this congregation that Reverend A. Granholm "would have caught a westbound U n i o n Pacific train for Ogden, -where he could transfer to the Denver and R i o Grande Railroad line to complete his journey to Scofield to conduct the graveside services.35 Other clergy came from Salt Lake City to participate at the mass funeral—the largest funeral in the state's history—and to comfort grieving families. Representing the LDS church were Heber J. Grant, Seymour B. Young, R e e d Smoot, and George Teasdale. Rev. Scott came from St. Paul's Episcopal church. Also present from Salt Lake City during the week foll o w i n g the e x p l o s i o n w e r e R e v . G e o r g e Bailey of t h e W e s t m i n s t e r Presbyterian church, Rev. A. H . H e n r y of the First Methodist Episcopal church, and Rev. Edward G. Fowler of the American Association of Sunday School Union. T h e only congregation actually within Pleasant Valley at the time was the LDS church, headed by Bishop Thomas J. Parmley, the mine superintendent. In addition to these religious ministers, representatives from the O d d Fellows and Knights of Pythias came to Scofield.36 Most of the Finnish graves, dug side by side in several long trenches, were located near the west entrance to the cemetery. Volunteers from Utah Valley and railroad construction crews from the area had dug the graves in the rocky hillside. T h e arrival of the dead Finnish miners was part of a steady cortege of makeshift hearses carrying pine coffins adorned with flowers provided by the schoolchildren of the Salt Lake Valley. As the eight coffins of the Luoma family were unloaded, Kaisa Luoma, speaking quietly through another Finn, asked that her family be buried side by side in the same row. Her simple request was granted. Before the funeral service for the Finnish miners, Rev. Granholm spoke through an interpreter to express appreciation to all those assembled for the 35 For a discussion of the early activities of the Finnish Lutheran Church in R o c k Springs, see Kirkollinen Kalenteri Vuodelle, 1905 (Ecclesiastical Calendar for 1905) and V. R a u t a n e n , Amerikan Suomalainen Kirkko (American Finnish Church) (Hancock, MI: Suomalias-Luteerilainen Kustannusliike, 1911), 255-57. There were two Finnish Lutheran churches in the United States: the Finnish Lutheran Church (Suomi Synod), which "regarded itself as the proper benefactor of all Finnish immigrants in America," and the Finnish Evangelical Lutheran National Church, a more "democratic, lay-centered" institution. See Douglas J. Ollila, Jr., "The Work People's College: Immigrant Education for Adjustment and Solidarity," in For the Common Good: Finnish Immigrants and the Radical Response to Industrial America, ed. Michael G Kami and Douglas J. Ollila, Jr. (Superior, WLTyomies Society, 1997), 90. 36 Salt Lake Herald, May 5, 1900; Deseret News, May 5, 1900; Salt Lake Tribune, May 5, 1900.

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WINTER QUARTERS MINE DISASTER

kindness extended to his fellow countrymen. "Say for me that we appreciate the efforts made for our people. This calamity has shocked the whole world and my countrymen have suffered terribly. Sixty-one of them are in their coffins awaiting burial, and the colony here has been nearly wiped out." 37 T h e services were simple. To the families Rev. Granholm provided in Finnish a brief but comforting message: "Look to God. H e is your only help." H e then proceeded down the several rows of coffins, stopping at each to offer a short prayer. H e was followed by the grieving w o m e n , some holding their babies, and other mourners from the Finnish community. Some of the Finnish children became restless and gathered on nearby piles of dirt to find a momentary place of refuge from the funeral services.38 T h e sorrowful task of burying the dead continued on Sunday, w h e n seven additional miners were laid to rest. Those buried were Finns Erick Kleima, Alex Heikkia, and Maknus Niemi; brothers J. N . and W. O. Powell; William Paugh (Pugh); and George Wilson. 39 The burial of these miners and one or two others later resulted in some confusion regarding the total number of miners killed. O n the day of the mass funeral a Salt Lake Herald reporter claimed that at least "six bodies yet remain in the m i n e " and that Thomas Padfield, Edwin Street, and J o h n Pitman were three of the six bodies yet to be recovered. 40 Perhaps the Herald's three unrecovered bodies were the same three that the Deseret News reported as missing. T h e n as well as now, the total n u m b e r of dead remained uncertain. Earlier in the week, checkers w h o were assigned to count the bodies as they were being removed from the two portals tallied 247 bodies. Later, undertaker S. D. Evans reported to company officials that he had used 232 coffins.41 O n the other hand, state coal mine inspector Thomas recorded 197 miners killed.42 A m o n g those w h o were troubled that not all of the miners had been 37 Deseret News, May 5, 1900. The Deseret News also reported that there were three unidentified Finns who were "supposed to be missing." 38 Ibid. 39 Salt Lake Herald, May 7, 1900. 40 Ibid., May 5, 1900. 41 Salt Lake Herald, May 5, 1900. 42 "Accidents Cat'd [unreadable]," dated May 1, 1900, "Coal Mine Inspector Report," microfilm copy of holograph, Series 19605, Box 1, 126-27, Utah State Archives, Salt Lake City. A much closer examination of all available contemporary lists and sources is needed to determine more accurately the number of miners killed. For example, resident J. W Dilley does not include on his list of victims the two Finns Erick Kleima and Maknus Niemi in his History of the Scofield Mine Disaster (Provo: Skelton Publishing, 1900). The Scofield Cemetery record, which has several pages missing, does not include Erick Kleima but does list M. Niemi and A. Heikkila.The Salt Lake Herald, Deseret News, and Salt Lake Tribune provide various lists. O n May 3, 1900, the Salt Lake Tribune reported 217 bodies recovered. A day later, the newspaper reported that 223 had been recovered, and on the day of the mass funeral, it reported that 385 men and boys had been underground at the time of the explosion and, as an unnamed miner stated, "Not more than eighty-five escaped." O n May 8, 1900, the Deseret News indicated that the total number of victims was 246. All of these numbers are much higher than the numbers of casualties—generally around 200—given in official sources.

135


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

recovered were the surviving Finns. Folio-wing the mass burial, the Finnish community met to assess their losses and concluded that "six at least of their people are missing." O n e missing Finn -was found on May 9 -when a recovery team searching for unaccounted-for miners found the body of N i c h o l a s Walkama. T h e recovery of Walkama perhaps reinforced the opinion of the Finns and others that additional miners still lay entombed in the Winter Quarters mines. T h e last Finn to be recovered, Walkama was buried on May 10.43 After the dead had been laid to rest, questions about w h o was to blame and questions about the cause of the explosion persisted. Besides blaming the Finns, many miners were of the opinion that the coal company, in failing to prevent the Finns from storing too many explosives in the mine, was at fault. Still others blamed the company for failing to adequately dampen the highly volatile coal dust. And some pointed at the coal mine inspector, w h o had not conducted a complete inspection of the mine in the weeks before the explosion. Official testimonies and reports filed after the explosion seem to have exonerated the Finns. T h e coroner's inquest determined that two explosions had occurred in rapid succession and that most of the miners died of asphyxiation from the deadly after-damp. However, the t h r e e - p e r s o n coroner's inquest "was unable to determine w h o caused the first explosion or what had ignited it. In its findings, the three-person panel concluded that "no blame or intimation of blame [is] attached to anyone." 44 Concerning the second explosion, the ignition of the dry and highly volatile coal dust, the state coal mine inspector placed partial onus on the coal company. In his report, T h o m a s indicated that there -was n o mine regulation or law that required the company to keep the coal dust damp and thus safe. However, T h e company should have had strict regulations about this H a d there been n o coal dust, this great flame would not have caught and there would not have b e e n 200 dead miners. A n explosion of, say 100 sticks of giant powder, might suffocate many m e n , but there were not many near this place [Pike's Peak] If the company had sprinkled the dust with water, thus keeping it from rising, it could not have ignited. But this was never done." 45

Dick Sprague, a respected chemist in the state, was asked to make an independent study concerning the coal dust. After analyzing samples of the coal dust from the Winter Quarters mines, Sprague concluded that an accidental spark set off the initial explosion and that the excessive amount of coal dust in the mine magnified the explosion, resulting in a high loss of life. H e explained,

43

Salt Lake Herald, May 10, 1900. Ibid., May 7, 1900. 45 Ibid., May 4,1900. 44

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WINTER QUARTERS MINE DISASTER

I am not in a position to state any definite conclusion as to the cause of the explosion, but all that I have found so far goes to show that our original theory was correct. That is, that the dust was ignited by a burning of powder. O n e thing is established beyond question—that the dust is not explosive of itself. There was no spontaneous combustion about it. There had to be some flame to set it off, I find, and a large flame at that. T h e force alone of a giant powder explosion would not do it, and I am led to believe from -what experiments I have made that this powder taken into the mine " b u r n e d " rather than exploded, and the dust having been raised or suspended in the air by blasting, it is ignited everywhere by the flame c o m i n g in contact with it. T h e effect left the mine without oxygen, and the m e n had nothing to breathe but carbon monoxide, or after-damp. This poisoned them. 46

Some of the veteran miners held the same opinion. T h e loss of life would not have been as high if the company had taken the necessary steps to keep the coal dust damp. " O n e thing would have prevented this explosion—sprinkling," stated one miner. "If the mines had been thoroughly wet down every week, no ordinary disturbance could have lifted the dust into the air—there could not have been an explosion." 47 T h e Pleasant Valley Coal Company, acting on these reports, set about to resolve the coal dust problem. As work was begun to repair the damaged tunnels, the company installed at considerable expense a m u c h - n e e d e d sprinkling system. " T h e cost to the company to make this improvement and to operate the sprinkling system will be heavy, but expense is not being considered," reported the Deseret News.4S T h e state inspector's report and the coroner's findings did not resolve the animosity that continued to be directed at the Finns, however. A number of coal miners refused to return to work if the Pleasant Valley Coal Company employed Finns. In a petition they urged the company not to hire the Finns and to "dismiss all Finns from its employ[ment]." 49 T h e company responded and refused to rehire Finnish miners, at least for a while. 50 Soon after the explosion, a local relief committee was organized to provide comfort and to assist the grieving families. O n e of the relief workers, a Winter Quarters schoolteacher named Miss Bent, recalled hearing the pitiful wailings of many of her young students as she walked the narrow road of the coal camp. " O h , sister, let's pray for poor papa," was a c o m m o n refrain. Among the other angels of mercy were Mrs. William White and Elizabeth Silverwood from Salt Lake City. D u r i n g their short stay they provided compassionate service to many children w h o -were "suffering for the lack of attention." T h e mothers, "too much burdened with grief," -were unable to provide proper care for their own children. 51 Unfortunately, the bitterness felt toward the Finnish miners was also 46

Ibid.,May 13, 1900. Deseret News, May 12, 1900. 48 Ibid., May 18,1900. 49 Salt Lake Herald, May 13, 1900. 50 Deseret News, May 18, 1900. 51 Ibid., May 13,1900. 47

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directed at their families. O. G. Kimball, head of the Scofield relief committee, was suspicious that undeserving Finns were taking relief that rightfully belonged to the fatherless and widows. A canvass of "Finland the poorest section of the camp" was taken "to prevent the possibility of undeservers taking the provisions out of the mouths of the needy. Such attempts may be expected, in view of the conduct of certain Finns heretofore. In all cases the Finns asked for something in the list, but few of them were in actual immediate want." 52 However, m i n e p r o d u c t i o n s u p e r i n t e n d e n t W. G. Sharp ignored the suspicions of Kimball and others and assigned a "committee of Samaritans" to continue to look after the needs of the Finnish families. T h e " G o o d Samaritans" found their work difficult among some of the Finnish families, however. Few of the w o m e n understood m u c h English—or they k n e w none at all. Others were too proud to accept the assistance offered to them. Still other Finns were indifferent to or suspicious of the relief committee's efforts, and they too refused the comfort that was offered. O n e relief worker recalled finding a number of Finnish children "unkempt and dirty" with little or n o attention given to t h e m by their grieving m o t h e r s . T h r e e Finnish children were left entirely without parents, older siblings, or other relatives to care for them. Bishop Lawrence Scanlan of the Vicariate of U t a h and Eastern Nevada offered these children a h o m e at St. Ann's Orphanage in Salt Lake City.53 A number of Finnish w o m e n quietly demonstrated the cultural trait of sisu. Ida Koski -was one such woman. A newlywed of about a year with a month-old baby, Ida buried her husband, five of her uncles, and four of her cousins at the Scofield cemetery Despite the loss of so many family members and despite the hostility directed at Finns generally, Ida was among several Finns w h o remained in Winter Quarters following the disaster.54 Mary Kleimola (also spelled Kelomela and Klemola) was another Finnish woman w h o displayed extraordinary strength. A fifty-five-year-old widow of three years, she along with her teenage daughter Algo and her four adult sons had immigrated to Pleasant Valley, where her sons found plenty of work. T h e three oldest sons—Antti, Leander, and Vesteri—were buried in the Scofield cemetery w i t h the dozens of other Finns on the Saturday folio-wing the disaster. T h e youngest, Albert, escaped death. Despite the difficulties, Mary seems to have carried on her duties as mother and breadwinner in traditional Finnish fashion, without any outward complaints. 55 T h e Winter Quarters M i n e explosion, which took the lives of at least 200 miners, was a tragic loss for the c o m m u n i t y and the state. For the 52

Ibid., May 8,1900. Ibid., May 6 and 9,1900. 54 In addition to Ida Koski, Mary Luoma, a family member of Kaisa and Abram Luoma, and Mary Korpi remained in Winter Quarters. All of these women paid taxes in 1901 to the Carbon County assessor. See Assessment Roll of Carbon County, 1901, Microfilm A - l 006, USHS. 55 See United States Manuscript Census, 1900; microfilm copy at USHS. 53

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elderly Luomas and the small Finnish community in Pleasant Valley, the Winter Quarters disaster was horrific. Their loss "was extremely large—as many as sixty Finns died. Further, the strong feelings manifested against the Finnish community sometimes withered even the distinct Finnish trait of personal and community fortitude. Some Finns left the area and state following the tragedy. Among those who were shattered with the loss of so many of their family were Abram and Kaisa Luoma. After much sacrifice, Abram and Kaisa along with their only surviving son, Leander, and daughter, Kaisa Matilda, decided to return to the land of their birth. 56 Still other Finns ignored the anger, chose to stay, and eventually found work in the coal mines of Carbon County or in hard rock mines elsewhere in the state. During the next few years, the Finnish population grew in Carbon County and in the state as a whole. For example, the family of Matti and Aina Maenpaa Rauhala emigrated from Finland and settled in Carbon County in 1907. By 1910 there were enough Lutheran Finns in Pleasant Valley to establish their own congregation with their own pastor. They organized their own temperance society to combat the excessive consumption of alcohol and even built a sizeable hall -where they could gather for social and community activities. Still other Finnish miners participated with their fellow miners in the Carbon County coal strike of 1903—1904.57

56

R. George Silvola to author, May 7, 2000, in possession of author. V. Rautanen, Amerikan Suomalainen Kirkko, 263; Allan Kent Powell, The Next Time We Strike: Labor in Utah's Coal Fields, 1900—1933 (Logan: Utah State University Press, 1985), 66—67. Longtime Finnish resident of Clear Creek Lilly Erkkila Woolsey remembers that at one end of Finn Hall was a large curtain with a hand-painted scene of Helsinki, Finland; conversation with author August 10, 1999. 57

139


An Explosive Lesson: Gomer Thomas, Safety, and the Winter Quarters Mine Disaster By NANCY J. TANIGUCHI

O

n May 1, 1900, the W i n t e r Q u a r t e r s M i n e exploded. O n September 1, 1912, former Utah State Coal Mine Inspector Gomer Thomas died. His obituary read, "He had not been well since the W i n t e r Quarters Coal Mine disaster eleven years ago, w h e n two Castle Gate Mine foreman hundred and one miners were killed. He was Frank Cameron, Winter Quarters not injured by the explosion, but undermined Mine superintendent T. J. his health in the rescue work by inhaling the Parmley, and Clear Creek Mine poisonous smoke and gases."1 These noxious superintendent H. B. Williams gasses and the practices and substances that confer after the Winter Quarters caused them became the focus of the Winter Q u a r t e r s M i n e disaster investigation and explosion. Photos are from USHS Thomas's ongoing crusade for mine safety. collections; most if not all were The primary problem at Winter Quarters was taken by George E. Anderson. Nancy J. Taniguchi, professor of history at California State University, Stanislaus, has been studying Utah's coal industry for more than twenty-five years. She lived in Price, Utah, from 1976 to 1989 and taught at the College of Eastern Utah. In 1996 she published Necessary Fraud: Progressive Reform and Utah Coal. 1

140

(Price) Eastern Utah Advocate, September 5, 1912 (hereafter Advocate).


A N EXPLOSIVE LESSON

explosives—the amount, h o w used, by w h o m , with what results—all of -which were reported by Thomas long before their effects finally took his life. Gomer Thomas, as the second state mine inspector (the first had served only a matter of months), was the government official most intimately concerned with coal mining. T h e position itself dated back to late territorial days when western commercial coal mining was in its infancy. A federal law passed in 1891 mandated a mine inspector in each territory with coal mines; Utah appointed one the following year.2 R o b e r t Forrester, the first territorial mine inspector and a trained geologist, filed a report in 1893 (based on 1892 data). In it he s u m m a r i z e d the industry's haphazard condition with a list of serious deficiencies. First, he noted, "with one or two exceptions, the mines have been worked in a very primitive and incompetent manner." Second, the typical mine superintendent "has been chosen, not because of his knowledge of Coal Mining, but because he was an influential friend of the most prominent shareholders; or he may have had a large amount of the shares himself." Third, unsafe practices included "an insufficiency of pillars [of uncut coal] to support the roof [of the mine tunnels, rendering the coal in them]...irrecoverable, and thus thousands of tons of coal are lost to the mine-owners." Finally, he minced no words regarding safety: "Such a miserable apology for mining presents almost insurmountable difficulties in circulating a current of fresh air sufficient for the needs of the miner at the working face [the exposed area at the end of the tunnel where the coal is mined]." 3 N o t only were the mines themselves generally in dismal condition but also practical knowledge, particularly regarding fires (often of deadly consequence in a coal mine), was in its infancy. In the context of a "gob fire" or c o n t i n u e d smoldering in the U n i o n Pacific M i n e in Pleasant Valley, Forrester detailed the two prevailing theories of coal combustibility: " T h e spontaneous combustion of coal in the past has been attributed to Iron Pyrites, and more lately to the oxidation of the carbon of the coal." In the older view, the decomposition of iron pyrites, particularly w h e n found in marcasite, was believed to cause sufficient heat to start a coal fire. T h e more recent theory (as of 1892) held instead that extant gasses absorbed by the coal would bring "the carbon into closer contact with the oxygen...and the heat developed by this action, under favorable circumstances [would cause] inflamniable particles actually to ignite." Forrester, in his own analysis, combined these two theories to opine that the existence of marcasite in the coal generated sufficient heat to drive off natural moisture while speeding the breakup of the coal, which could then more readily absorb oxygen and ignite. 4

2 "Annual Report, Robert Forrester, U S. Mine Inspector 1892, filed March 27, 1893," Secretary of Utah Territory/Territorial Executive Papers, Series 241, Reel 13, 13500-507, Utah State Archives, Salt Lake City, Utah. 3 Ibid., 13,459-60. 4 Ibid., 13,468-71.

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After filing this report, Forrester apparently left (or was removed from) the position of mine inspector for Utah Territory. In the report filed for 1896, at the beginning of statehood, his immediate successor was described thus: "The last incumbent of that position under Territorial government failed entirely to compile annual reports covering the years of his incumbency [and] he left no reliable data...." 5 Consequently, w h e n G o m e r Thomas assumed the position of state coal mine inspector in 1897, he had very little except his own extensive practical knowledge to go on. His task would be to establish and enforce most of Utah coal mining's initial safety procedures. His own awareness of the urgency of his task was suddenly shared by people throughout the state following the explosion at Winter Quarters, which brought repeated calls for mine safety. Fortunately for Utah, Gomer Thomas -was a professional mining man with lifelong ties to the industry. Born in Wales in 1843, he immigrated to the United States in 1864, working first in Pennsylvania, then Ohio, and finally in Utah in 1878, always in coal. In Utah, he was first employed by the Utah Central Railroad in Scofield, moving a year later to the Union Pacific Coal Company, or U. P. H e superintended the U. P.'s Grass Creek Mine in Summit County until it closed in 1887, after which he continued with the company until his appointment as state coal mine inspector ten years later. His duties then included an annual or more-frequent visit to each of the state's coal mines employing more than six men and an occasional inspection of smaller enterprises as well. W h e n hydrocarbon mines opened, he also inspected them. 6 As required by law, every year the state coal mine inspector made an official report to Utah's governor; the reports were published biennually Each report typically began -with a letter of summary and tables of statistics then continued with a narrative report on each of the significant coal mines, their owners and officers, tonnage produced, amount of explosives used, brief overviews of the hydrocarbon mines, individual accounts of the deaths and injuries occurring that year, and, usually, a summary statement. Thomas's official "Reports of the State Coal Mine Inspector" also detail the nitty-gritty side of the Winter Quarters development and disaster. N o t surprisingly, when Thomas assumed his official post, one of his main concerns was the Winter Quarters Mine, then one of the leading producers in the state. His first, typically detailed, report of the Winter Quarters No. 1 Mine (the only one then operating) was based on his first official visit on October 27, 1897. H e noted 267 men inside and outside, along with eighteen horses, a Guibal exhaust fan (-with full particulars as to its capacity and 5 Report of the Coal Mine Inspector for the State of Utah from April 6th to December 31st, 1896 (Salt Lake City: Deseret News Publishing Company, 1897), 3, 4. 6 Advocate, September 5, 1912; Union Pacific Coal Company, History of the Union Pacific Coal Mines, 1868 to 1940 (Omaha: Colonial Press, [1940]), 103; "United States v. C. M. Freed et al., [1910] Vol. 2," Records of Utah State Land Board, Utah State Archives, 419-29. Hydrocarbons are other carbon-based substances, specifically asphaltum, gilsonite, elaterite, and ozokerite.

142


AN EXPLOSIVE LESSON

performance), electric hoists (also with full mechanical details), "escapement ways," and coal production of 210,693 tons, with complete chemical analysis. Thomas was a thorough man. Despite the use of the fan, he also warned about an insufficient "current of air...on account of the friction in the return airway, which is smaU, being driven some considerable distance in the rock." When he complained about this to management, he learned that steps to widen the airway would begin on November 1, just two days after his visit. Subsequent reports followed up on Thomas's concerns. In 1898 he reported, "I found great improvement from my last [visit]...and a great deal larger amount of air traveling through the mine." He added, "There is no gas in this mine and dust is not very dangerous, but management sprinkles traveling roads." 7 His views on gas, dust, and sprinkling would all change dramatically after the explosion. Thomas's 1899 report began with the proud assertion that "this has been the most successful year in the history of the coal mine industry in the State of Utah." There had been no fatal accidents, and total production had increased 204,825 tons over 1898, with 407 more employees. Thomas continued, "All suggestions and requests that I have made during the year, for the safety, comfort, and health of the employees, have been cheerfully complied with on the part of the employers." To prepare this report, Thomas had inspected the now much-larger Winter Quarters No. 1 seven times, noting variances in numbers of miners working and complaining about the amount of water in the man-way, which was being sprinkled at his suggestion. He brought these issues to the attention of Superintendent Thomas J. Parmley, who promptly supervised amelioration. As always, Thomas had checked the ventilation, saying (on visit six) that it was "fairly good considering the amount of powder used in the mine." He noted, "All shots are fired in this mine by the miners at any time." He also reported on "a new mine... one of the most difficult mines to open in the State": Winter Quarters No. 4. "The graders w h o were grading for a tramway to the mine, put in a big blast which cracked the rock and earth at the mouth of the tunnel, causing a big slide of thousands of tons of rock and dirt, making it very difficult to timber and drive." The tunnel mouth consequently "had to be secured with rock walls and cribs, which was done, and in a manner creditable to the mine foreman, [Thomas Parmley's brother] William Parmley" 8 Both the Parmleys, like Thomas, were experienced mining men, a far cry from the "big shareholders" Forrester had excoriated in his first territorial report. They saw to it that their mines ran in a professional manner. At the nearby Clear Creek mine, also new that year, the dust was deemed highly explosive, and a sprinkling system was installed at Gomer Thomas's suggestion. A n o t h e r sister mine, Castle Gate, had recently 7 State Coal Mine Inspector's Report (hereafter SCMIR) 1897, Utah State Archives, 2; ibid. 1897, 23; ibid. 1898, 52-53. 8 Ibid. 1899, 4, 17-19.The man-way is the tunnel through which the miners travel.

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modernized under the direction of superintendent Frank Cameron. N o t only was the mine sprayed with water but also the coal was dug "by being first undermined and shot off with Hercules powder [dynamite], of which they used 38,450 pounds during the year 1899. All shots are fired by electricity, when all men are out of the mine, -which I think is the safest way to mine coal where dust is explosive." In his report, Thomas then highlighted Utah's superior coal deposits, availability of timber for mine uses, and gentle mountain grades for tram and rail-way accessibility, opining that "all that is needed to make these fields superior to others [in the West] is organized capital to operate them on a large scale."9 Everything seemed ready for continued growth in the industry. At that time, coal was in great demand. Especially in the arid stretches of the West where wood was scarce, coal was the fuel of choice for factories, home heating, and, most of all, locomotive power. N o t surprisingly, the great western railroads, such as the Denver and R i o Grande Western ( D & R G W ) , opened the first commercial mines in the West. Nearby, they built company towns or allowed miners to build their own homes on company land at the mouth of the mines. As a result, these commercial giants regained much of what they paid the miners by insisting that they buy their supplies—fuses, lanterns, blasting powder, and daily necessities—at the company store. The D & R G W , through interlocking directorates, controlled the Pleasant Valley Coal C o m p a n y (PVCC), which opened the Winter Quarters Mine. In the same canyon where these mines penetrated the earth stood the Wasatch Store, the mercantile arm of the P V C C , again bound to the same commercial behemoth by an interlocking directorate. In essence, one huge industrial empire tried to control virtually every aspect of the miners' lives.10 The labor of these men was necessary for the commercial giant to grow. They first carved the portals then drove tunnels deep into the earth, supporting the ceiling (with -wooden timbers at Winter Quarters instead of pillars of unmined coal) and removing the coal as they -went. A coal mine consisted of a -web of passageways; in the case of Winter Quarters Four these rose from the main entry and -were labeled for the direction: First Rise, Second Rise, and so on, to the Farrish Level, which was above the Third and Fourth rises. Off the passageways, or rises, -were rooms where men dug the coal at the face. This mine, being new, was small; the tunnels penetrated only 1,600 feet from the surface, and it had four cross entries 9

S C M I R 1899, 20,33. "Articles of Incorporation, Wasatch Store Company," no page, listing David Dodge and William E Colton, both of the D&RGW, as two of the initial incorporators, and "Articles of Incorporation, Pleasant Valley Coal Company," listing W F Colton as the largest shareholder (100 shares; all others owned one share), no page, College of Eastern Utah Special Collections, Price, Utah. For an extended description of mine acquisition, see Nancy J. Taniguchi, Necessary Fraud: Progressive Reform and Utah Coal (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1996), 10—42. For a complete description of the company town system, see James B.Allen, The Company Town in the American West (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1966). 10

144


AN EXPLOSIVE LESSON

and twenty-six rooms. 11 Mines were full of dangers. With the exception of Castle Gate, where company men supervised the use of dynamite and detonated it by remote electrical charges, each miner blasted out his own coal to loosen it before picking out more and shoveling it into cars. Typically, the miner drilled a hole horizontally into the face, filled it partly with blasting powder, laid down a length of fuse, tamped the hole shut with a "dummy" (a cylindrical sack filled -with earth) or with wet wood pulp, lit the exposed end of the fuse and moved away from the harm of the ensuing blast. Occasionally there was a missed shot—a charge that did not fire—which could kill a man if he hit it with his pick. A windy or blown-out shot—one that was improperly tamped—could create a life-threatening explosion. Another danger was the "bounce"—the motion of the earth abruptly settling itself, causing choking dust and small bits of coal to shoot out as cracks snapped shut. Sometimes the tunnel roof would start to collapse. Then, the -wooden pillars that supported it twisted with the pressure, and the small -wooden wedges driven in at the top, where posts met the ceiling, shot out to warn the men to run for their lives. Bounces, roof falls, explosions, and daily wear and tear all raised a fine mist of coal dust, which was not necessarily considered flammable by itself. Some coal mines, due to the chemical composition of the coal, had the added danger of flammable methane gas, called fire damp, oozing out of the coal. T h e Winter Quarters mines, however, were not gassy and -were considered some of the safest in which to work. 12 Then came that disastrous day of May 1, 1900. A book written shortly afterward by Scofield school principal and town clerk James W. Dilley was published free of charge by the Skelton Publishing Company of Provo and sold to raise money for the bereaved families. From it comes this account: May Day or Dewey Day, dawned bright and clear, when about two hundred miners left Scofield for the mines in the miner's coach that is run back and forth at the change of shifts.... Each one was looking forward to the evening when there was to be a dance in the new O d d Fellow's Hall, and their children were to have a celebration in honor of the Hero of the Battle of Manilla [sic].... Nearly every man was at his post of duty in the mine, w h e n from some cause or other, a most terrific explosion took place.... [Nf] early everyone [in town] supposed that the noise was from some one setting off a blast in honor of the day... Reports came down that N u m b e r Four had exploded, but this -was not believed as this mine in particular was supposed to be the safest mine [of all].13

As the news spread, some people rushed up the incline to the mouth of Number Four Mine, where they encountered several men severely injured by the escaping blast. At the mouth of the mine, "one horse was found dead but his driver [of the mine cart the horse had pulled] could not be seen " S C M I R 1900,67. See the testimony in ibid., 68—80. 13 J.W. Dilley, History of the Scofield Mine Disaster (Provo: Skelton Publishing, 1900; privately reprinted by Paul and Linda Helsten for the 100-year commemoration of the Winter Quarters Mine disaster, May 1, 2000), 47-48. 12

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A rescue team at the Winter Quarters Mine.

until someone looking down t h e g u l c h saw t h e f o r m o f . . . t h e driver [who] had been blown eight h u n d r e d and t w e n t y feet, by actual measurement." The first relief party, headed by mine superintendent Thomas J. Parmley " s t a r t e d for t h e levels of Number Four through N u m b e r O n e , there b e i n g inside connections, but were driven back by the terrible after-damp [carbon monoxide] that had by this time reached the lower levels of Number One." 14 It took about twenty minutes to clear away the dead horse and the tangle of mine timbers that had been blown out to the mouth of Number Four, blocking the entrance. Then, "the relief committee was able to follow the air and the actual work of rescue began. The first one to be met was Harry Betterson, supposed at the time to be John Kirton, and being still alive was brought [out of the smoke-filled tunnel] to the surface where he was found to be burned beyond recognition." As men set up canvas barriers (called brattices) to force the air into the mine one level at a time, clearing the smoke and dispelling some of the after-damp, they discovered horrible carnage. "Men were piled in heaps as there were not enough men [on the rescue squads] to carry out the dead as fast as found." The groups pressed into Number One and found more bodies. After miners arrived from Clear Creek to help, "The dead began to arrive at the mouth of Number One by the car load, sometimes as many as twelve bodies having been loaded upon one mine car." Then it was that the people realized that it was impossible to expect anything but the burned or mangled body of the loved ones that had entered the mine so light hearted that morning.... O n account of the many caves and falls the work of the rescuing party was greatly retarded, as many of the bodies were buried and had to be dug out from under tons of dirt. As the bodies were carried down from N u m b e r One, the women and children waiting at the boarding house, moaning and crying out the names of their loved ones, would rush frantically to the stretcher to see if they could recognize the face or form of him for w h o m they were waiting. 15

A m o n g the first outside rescuers on the scene was former U t a h Ibid., 49. Ibid., 50-52.

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AN EXPLOSIVE LESSON

Territorial Coal Mine Inspector Robert Forrester, now the geologist for the Pleasant Valley and U t a h Fuel Coal companies. H e plunged into N u m b e r One, where according to the Los Angeles Times "he was found [unconscious from after-damp] near the mouth of the tunnel, having just gone in, and was quickly rescued. As soon as he recovered, he "went right back in the mine to aid the relief party and was again brought out in an unconscious condition. H e was carried to his room, and upon recovering, once more returned to aid in directing the work."16 An astonished rescue party entering Number O n e mine found David Uro still working in R o o m 11 on the Eighth Rise. He was unaware that an explosion had occurred, and, as later reported by Gomer Thomas, "There being sufficient air in his place his life was saved. All the other men on this level, hearing the explosion, ran [toward N u m b e r Four, the shorter way out] trying to make their escape, and encountered the after damp to "which they succumbed." Uro and one other man were brought to the surface three and one-half hours after the explosion, the only two saved above the Fourth Level of the Eighth Rise and the only survivors from an extensive area in -which eighty-three men died.17 Another rescue party going into Number One was led by William G. Sharp, general manager of the Pleasant Valley Coal Company. By the time Gomer Thomas arrived in early afternoon, fifty bodies had been recovered, and Sharp was exhausted. Thomas relieved him so he could get a few hours sleep. Sharp returned at 8 p.m. to join a party led by Thomas that included James Harrison and Frank Cameron, superintendent of the Castle Gate mine, in probing Winter Quarters Number Four.18 Thomas stayed involved in rescue work almost continuously throughout May 2 but had to hold back on the afternoon of May 3 until the back of the connected mines, where the fire had been hottest, was cleared of most of the charred and mangled bodies. Superintendent Thomas Parmley's brother, William Parmley, the mine foreman at Winter Quarters N u m b e r Four, was among those bodies there recovered and identified. The confirmation of his death extinguished all hope that the victims would all be found. Since William alone knew -where all the men had been working and since several rooms had caved in, blocking passage-ways and burying bodies, questions remain to this day whether all the miners -were recovered. 19 By then, word of the disaster had spread widely. The mounting toll from Winter Quarters revealed that this explosion was the worst in the United 16

Los Angeles Times, May 3,1900. "Report of Explosion at Winter Quarter[s] Mines, May 1st. 1900," attachment to Gomer Thomas to Governor Heber M.Wells, June 1, 1900, in Dept.: Industrial Commission, Div.: State Coal Mine Inspector, Series: Reports 1900—1916, Box B106gl, "Reports by State Mine Inspector to Governor and Various Organizations 1902-1904," Utah State Archives, 2 (hereafter Disaster Report). This report has a blank to represent the name of the other rescued miner. See also SCMIR 1900, 64. 18 SCMIR 1900, 61; Los Angeles Times, May 3, 1900. 19 Allan Kent Powell, The Next Time We Strike (Logan: Utah State University Press, 1985), 231 n. 10. 17

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Workers bring a body from the mine.

States to that date. Condolences and assistance p o u r e d in. Locally, t h e P l e a s a n t Valley Coal C o m p a n y p r o v i d e d free coffins and burial clothes, the Wasatch Store C o m pany wiped out the debts of the dead m i n e r s , and mine officials delivered the v i c t i m s ' full p a y c h e c k s privately to each bereaved family. S u p e r i n t e n d e n t Welby of the Denver and Rio Grande Western Railway, a sister corporation to the Pleasant Valley Coal Company, provided free railroad transportation for flowers gathered by Salt Lake City schoolchildren to adorn the graves of the dead. Utah's Governor Wells received a cable from President William McKinley expressing his "intense sorrow...and deep sympathy with the wives, children and friends of the unfortunate victims." Foreign governments also responded. For example, President McKinley received condolences from France's President Loubet, delivered by the French ambassador in Washington. The London Daily Telegraph rated the international outpouring of sympathy on a par with that caused by the explosion of the Maine.20 Meanwhile, relief supplies began arriving, and a way had to be found to manage them. Governor Wells appointed a committee, chaired by Utah secretary of state James T. Hammond, to receive and distribute contributions. Committee members included E.W.Wilson,William F. Colton, Ezra Thompson, A. W. Carlson, Arthur L. Thomas, William Iglehart, Mrs. O. J. Salisbury, Mrs. George M . Downey, Mrs. A. R . H a y w o o d , Lafayette Holbrook, J o h n Jones, O. G. Kimball, and the busy W i n t e r Quarters superintendent, Thomas J. Parmley.21 However, while private donors proved generous, requests for both state and federal aid were turned down by the

2,1 Ibid., 32, 33; Los Angeles Times, May 4, 1900. According to Powell (231 n. 1), the Winter Quarters Mine disaster is the fourth most severe coal mine disaster in the United States and the worst to that point in history. The others with larger loss of life were: December 6, 1907, 362 killed at Monongah, West Virginia; December 19, 1907, 239 killed at Jacobs Creek, Pennsylvania; October 22, 1913, 263 killed at Dawson, New Mexico. 21 Noble Warrum, ed., Utah Since Statehood, 4 vols. (Chicago and Salt Lake City: S.J. Clarke, 1919), 1:267.

148


AN EXPLOSIVE LESSON A boardinghouse was used as a washroom for the dead and wounded. The clothes of the dead miners were thrown

-jtJ&H''

in a pile on the porch.

respective legislatures.22 While government faltered in providing m o n e tary aid, state officials— particularly Inspector Gomer Thomas—worked o v e r t i m e . R e s c u e teams supervised by Thomas continued probing both mines, corridor by corridor and room by room, until May 12, bringing up more of the dead. A subsequent inspection attempting to identify the explosion's cause also proceeded room by room through Number Four Mine. In this painstaking analysis, Thomas was aided by S u p e r i n t e n d e n t T h o m a s J. Parmley, Assistant S u p e r i n t e n d e n t H . G. Williams, Utah Fuel geologist R o b e r t Forrester, and mining engineer George W. Snow. This investigation resulted in a fifteen-page, typed, legal-size report and a five-page summary (the latter later included in the inspector's annual report), which were submitted to the governor on June l.23

G. E. ANDERSON

The dynamics of the explosion had been extraordinary. For example, some rooms experienced the force of the blast; others, the fire; some had signs of both. In Number Four Mine, the explosion's force apparently traveled inward on the third level and back on the second level, as indicated by smashed steel mine cars in each location. "The force of the explosion on these levels was very strong and [there were] but little signs of fire," added the report.24 At the mouth of R o o m Five, Level One, the blast of air was so strong and hot that some of the coal in the walls coked. At R o o m O n e on the first level, a toolbox, clothing, paper, and mine props were all scorched and burned, but a keg of powder, although scorched on top, did not explode. In some cases, huge tongues of flame flashed into rooms but halted short of complete destruction. For example, at R o o m Two, First Rise, two-thirds of a keg of powder, not exploded, still rested 100 feet into the 160-foot-deep room, some thirty feet beyond the fire limit as shown by

22

Powell, The Next Time We Strike, 32. A partial list of individual, fraternal, mercantile, and municipal donors can be found in Dilley, History of the Scofield Mine Disaster, 197-98. 23 Disaster Report. 24 Ibid., 5.

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Body of H. A. Miller being placed in a car at the boardinghouse, probably in order to be taken to the Scofield School.

ashes o n t h e props. Jacob Anderson had been working there alone and was brought out alive, apparently because fire, n o t force, had hit his w o r k area and n o t all the oxygen had been consumed. At the top of the First Rise there was no sign of fire or blast; in fact, in the Third Level off the First Rise "a keg of p o w d e r i n t a c t is found in a sack; also seventeen and one-half sticks of giant powder [dynamite] and some [blasting] caps...were found intact." In other places, superheated air from the blast caused horrific results. For example, "The 4th Rise below the Farrish Level is badly caved and the men taken out here were badly burned and blistered with heat, but had no fire on their clothing." Up at the Farrish Level (beyond the Third and Fourth rises), two blasts traveling in opposite directions apparently met. Upon reaching the end of the Farrish Level, H. G.Williams dryly remarked that "a great deal more air tried to get through that hole than could." In the last room of the Farrish Level, R o o m Fourteen, a unique array of evidence showed that the heated blast had come from the face itself. N o black powder or dynamite could possibly have caused this result.21 Finally, although the heat dissipated with distance, the after-damp (carbon monoxide) did not. As Thomas noted, most of the miners in the back of Number O n e "were warned of the explosion but they stopped to put their tools away and lock up their boxes, and some went so far as to finish load[ing] their cars and put up props. If they had run right out they could have come right out in fresh air most of the way but they did not think there was much danger for they did not hurry as they knew the mine did not give off any explosive gas and was not known to be a dusty mine."26 By the time many left, taking the short-cut through Number Four, the after-damp had risen and killed them. This poisonous gas eventually reached the mouth of both mines, where it repeatedly struck down res2:1 Ibid., 9, 11, 12, 15. Only a very hot fire could cause coal to turn to coke. This process was usually performed in beehive-shaped ovens under controlled conditions. Coke was used largely for smelting throughout the West. 26 SCMIR 1900,62.

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cuers such as R o b e r t Forrester, as previously noted. Gomer Thomas spent almost the -whole of May in Scofield, bringing out the dead, ventilating the Winter Quarters mines, and compiling his exhaustive report. His concluding "official visit of inspection of N o . 4 mine, Winter Quarters, on this 25th day and night of May" found it sufficiently damp and ventilated to be reopened on the twenty-sixth. 27 While his investigative report had located virtually every keg of powder, dynamite stick, tool box, horse carcass, m i n e prop, lunch box, and dented m i n e cart remaining after the explosion, it had not definitively pinpointed the cause of the explosion. However, Thomas offered a personal assessment. O n the first page of his fifteen-page report to the governor, submitted June 1, he wrote: It seems, from all the evidence available, that some person accidentally ignited a keg of powder which caused the dust to rise and ignited the same; carrying the flames from r o o m to room from a point k n o w n as "Pike's Peak" and the immediate vicinity thereof. I find that nine (9) kegs of powder were exploded near this place. Fourteen (14) kegs of black powder exploded in other parts of the mine, making a total of twenty-four (24) kegs of black powder exploded, and fifty-six (56) sticks of giant powder were burned, thus adding great force to the explosion. 28

T h e phrase "and fifty-six (56) sticks of giant powder were b u r n e d " was crossed out when the missing sticks of dynamite were later located. 29 Others had their own theories of the explosion's cause. Initially, an angry Superintendent Thomas Parmley, whose younger brother, foreman William Parmley, was then among the missing (later a confirmed casualty), was reported as stating that "some of the Fins [sic], recently imported, secretly took giant powder [dynamite] down into the mine to assist them in their work. They were exceedingly anxious to make a good showing, and as much money as possible, and it is thought that when the giant powder was touched off, it ignited some of the dust, of which every coal mine in the country has more or less."30 While some voices tended to blame the Finnish miners, 31 to Thomas and other mine officials the explosives themselves, not w h o wielded them, were a major issue. In 1900, dynamite -was new in Utah's coal mines. In 1899 only Castle Gate had used it—38,458 pounds—electrically firing all of the shots when the men were out of the mine. 32 That same year, all other mines in U t a h relied solely on kegs of powder, n u m b e r i n g 4,400 at W i n t e r Quarters and 1,164 at Clear Creek, just to the west. By 1900, however, these proportions had changed dramatically. Castle Gate still used dynamite exclusively (32,147 pounds);Winter Quarters N u m b e r O n e used only kegs 27

Ibid.; italics added. Disaster Report, 1. 29 Dilley, History of the Scofield Mine Disaster, 115—16. 30 Los Angeles Times, May 3, 1900. 31 See Powell, The Next Time We Strike, 33-34. 32 S C M I R 1899,8. 28

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of powder (4,730), but W i n t e r Quarters N u m b e r Four, w h e r e the explosion occurred, used 2,290 kegs of p o w d e r and 1,100 pounds of dynamite. Like-wise, Clear Creek had shifted to partial dynamite use, about o n e p o u n d to every three kegs of powder. 3 3 Using black p o w d e r in kegs versus sticks of dynamite raised a touchy issue in coal mining. T h e packaging could make a significant difference in the effect of the explosives. T h e drilling, loading, and tamping process p r e viously described took longer than using a prepackaged dynamite stick, but the a m o u n t of explosive could be tailored to the work area and the type of coal. T h e issue of explosives—their type, amount, use, and effect—became k e y in a n a l y z i n g t h e W i n t e r Q u a r t e r s e x p l o s i o n . W h i l e s o m e , like S u p e r i n t e n d e n t Parmley, b l a m e d over-eager Finnish i m m i g r a n t s , some other miners were "exceedingly bitter in their denunciation of the c o m p a ny. Others took a m o r e conservative view of the matter, and said it -was one of those things over -which n o m a n has control and no m a n or m e n should be held responsible." 34 T h e task of identifying the source of the explosion in a reputedly safe, non-gassy mine preoccupied many experts for months. T h e state hired a chemist to make an official analysis of the composition of W i n t e r Quarters coal to try to d e t e r m i n e if the coal itself had caused the explosion, but results proved negative. After spending virtually all of M a y at Scofield, G o m e r T h o m a s returned on August 9 and found the missing b o d y of J o h n Pitman, the last of the dead to be brought out. D u r i n g his stay, T h o m a s t o o k testimony from some of the survivors, virtually all of t h e m experienced miners w h o had emigrated from the British Isles. H e included a verbatim transcript of the testimony of eight m e n in his annual report. Some of the examinations were conducted by a Mr. M c N e i l , the former mine inspector of C o l o r a d o . T h e m a i n points at issue w e r e w h e t h e r W i n t e r Quarters was considered a gassy m i n e (it was not); if the air was good (it was); if there was m u c h coal dust in the mine (no); w h e t h e r the m e n -were always cautious in handling p o w d e r (they -were not; some w o u l d b e n d over their kegs and set charges "with lighted lamps on their heads); and w h e t h e r the company encouraged safe m i n e practices (uncertain). Questions about the value of sprinkling w i t h water to settle coal dust received a w i d e range of responses; o n e m a n simply n o t e d that it had b e e n tried b u t had n o t b e c o m e general practice. 35 These questions about mining practices pointed toward a n e w avenue of investigation. If the mine itself did n o t threaten an explosion, h u m a n error must have b e e n to blame. B u t w h o s e error -was i t — t h e company's, the miners', or the government's, through insufficient oversight? By stressing the role of kegs of powder, -which each m a n had to fire individually, the 33

Ibid. 1900, 49. Los Angeles Times, May 3, 1900. 35 S C M I R 1900, 61-97. 34

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investigators obliquely accused the miners of being the sole agents of their own destruction. If dynamite, sold in pre-packaged amounts at the company store, were to blame, the company would be more at fault for the explosion. T h e local judicial system reached essentially the same conclusion. Carbon County convened a grand jury that spent three days investigating the cause of the mine explosion. It issued its report on June 13 after taking the testimony of ten employees, and it attached no blame to the coal company. A coroner's inquest agreed—or at least could not determine a cause.36 Some survivors disagreed, however, and sued the Pleasant Valley Coal Company. These suits were so numerous that Carbon County found it economical to have forms printed that set forth all specifics of the disaster and the company's response. The forms detailed the events of the explosion, the company's contentions that the deceased were experienced miners, and the safe reputation of the mine. The company apparently harbored concerns about explosives, for the printed document continued, " N o dynamite was used in said mine except in excavating for openings in rock, and the small quantities in the mine, at the time of the explosion did not b u r n or explode; that the miners were not allowed to take in, and did not take in, or have in the mine, at the time of the explosion, more powder than is customary and allowed in other mines considered free from gas and explosive dust...." The only blanks on the form accommodated the names of the plaintiffs, the amount for which they were suing, the name of the deceased and the date. A typical form, used by survivors of Joseph Maio, was filed on February 11, 1901, claiming damages of $5,000.37 The company won all its cases. Gomer Thomas reached his own conclusions regarding the human cause of the disaster. Sidestepping specifics, he reported: "This explosion -was either due to carelessness in handling explosives or to a windy or blow-out shot, thus igniting the dust, in air free from fire-damp." U p to this point, the existence of fire-damp, or methane gas, had been considered the main danger in a coal mine; coal dust by itself was not considered highly flammable. Thomas had learned otherwise. H e continued: Here we have the proof that an explosion can take place without the presence of firedamp.... I am of the opinion that the part played by coal dust in mine explosions is much more disastrous than the part played by fire-damp, under the conditions in favor of the belief that coal dust is often the main agent of destruction in mine explosions, and of the view that explosions might originate from and be propagated by coal dust under certain conditions in air free from fire-damp. U n d e r these conditions it is safe for me to say that no mine is safe w i t h o u t a

36

Ibid. 1900, 95. "In the District Court, of the Seventh Judicial District, Carbon County, Utah, and , Plaintiffs, v. Pleasant Valley Coal Company, Defendant, Answer.... Dated 1900"; Carbon County Recorder's Office, Price, Utah; copy in possession of the author. In this case the suit was brought by "Fortunato Maio, Joseph Maio, Humbert Maio, by Guardian ad [sic] Venturas Maio and [unintelligible] John Maio."The date has been altered; it reads February 11, 1901, with the final printed zero crossed out to represent 1. The practice of assigning blame to the miners was common throughout the industrial United States at this time. 37

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sufficient amount of moisture to keep the dust damp. N o w if the dust is an agent in explosions it is most dangerous w h e n it is dry.38

In essence, since coal dust by itself had been proven explosive by the disaster at Winter Quarters, it made little difference w h o used which explosives or where they were obtained. For mine safety, the coal dust had to be damp. After this disaster, Thomas believed more firmly in sprinkling and insisted that it be increased, even in so-called safe mines like Winter Quarters. O n June 9, about two weeks after the mine reopened, he found the sprinkling system in good order and the mine working fulltime.39 H e stressed other safety precautions in the introductory letter to his 1900 annual report, -where he recalled recommendations made at Clear Creek the year before. Then, he had foreseen "the danger of taking too much powder into the mine at one time." He continued: I suggested to the [Clear Creek] management, in November 1899, that they furnish the miners with cans that would hold 6 1/4 [sic: 6 1/2] pounds of powder, equal to 1/4 of a keg, as I thought that a keg -was too much for each miner to take into the mine -where there was so much of it used. T h e company furnished these cans, but the miners refused to use them; there being no law on this I could not enforce it, and the cans were not used until the middle of May after the Scofield disaster, when the miners realized that there was danger in taking too much powder into the mine. All the P. V. [PleasantValley] Coal Company's mines use these cans.40

Naturally, the Winter Quarters Mine disaster spread Thomas's concern for safety procedures. Some changes came only t h r o u g h repeated requests, however. O n September 26, during Thomas's fifth inspection since the explosion, he found that Winter Quarters N u m b e r O n e had "too much smoke in the levels off the eighth rise," a condition that persisted into his two October visits. H e brought this ventilation problem to Superintendent Parmley's attention, and when it had not been corrected by November 1, he wrote a letter demanding improvements. O n November fifth, they had apparently been made. 41 The smoke generally came from the use of explosives. After the Winter Quarters disaster it, too, was recognized as creating a significant health hazard. In his 1900 discussion of "Powder Consumed in the Mines of the State During 1900," Thomas cautioned, "Intimately connected with the subject of ventilation is that of the explosion of powder in displacing the coal. The fumes thus liberated highly impregnate the air with carbonic oxide, or white damp, -which is a most deadly gas. This, spreading through the mine, vitiates the air."While efficient ventilation could reduce the risk, he recomm e n d e d that companies "regulate the hours for shooting, so that the 38

SCMIR 1900, 67. Ibid., 63. 40 Ibid., 42. 41 Ibid., 63. 39

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employees of the mine could withdraw to currents of fresh air while the blasting -would be done." Thomas added, "I have had complaints in regard to the excessive quantities of smoke created by the discharge of powder in the mines, and my belief is that the evil complained of is largely due to the employment of unskilled miners w h o use the powder in excessive quantities."42 Largely through Thomas's pressure, the state legislature, when it next convened (it met every other year), took an interest in coal mine safety improvements. In 1901 it passed a law mandating dust-control measures, one of only two such laws in the country. The statute also contained new regulations for mine ventilation, explosives, and supervision. Specifically, mines had to be sprinkled up to the face in all working rooms; abandoned areas had to be ventilated and abandoned crosscuts sealed off. N o explosives could be stored inside the mine. Thomas's suggestion of limiting miners to 6 1/2 pounds of powder was also adopted as law. Large mines had to be subdivided and each division ventilated separately; the workforce in each section could not exceed seventy-five men. Rooms had to be inspected daily for gas, and air currents had to be measured weekly. Amount and extent of timbering was also mandated; any hazards had to be reported immediately to the mine boss. Perhaps most important, foremen had to ensure that all men using explosives knew how to handle them. N o longer could unqualified men become bosses; instead, a committee consisting of an operator, a miner, and the mine inspector would certify mine bosses, and the coal mine inspector himself certified fire bosses, the men most intimately involved in preventing explosions.43 In his next report, Gomer Thomas approvingly remarked, "I -was pleased to see that the management [of Winter Quarters Number Four] had made such great changes in compliance with the new law."44 Mine Number 1, however, was drier in part than it should have been; management made the required improvements, including instructing "the water-men to -water the mine twice a week."45 T h e following year, Thomas again made repeated inspections of the Winter Quarters mines, periodically demanding better airways, less smoke, and more -watering. He repeatedly championed better safety legislation and new, less dangerous inventions, such as the Safety Blasting Cartridge, used successfully in Pennsylvania in 1902. He urged its adoption, saying, "If this cartridge could be introduced and used successfully in the mines of Utah, it would be nothing short of a God send to the miners of this state."46 In 1903, always particularly concerned -with Winter Quarters, he wrote a 42

Ibid., 56. James Whiteside, Regulating Danger (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1990), 70—72. The other state with dust-control laws was Montana. 44 SCMIR 1901,19. 45 Ibid., 17. 46 Ibid. 1902,78. 43

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glowing letter to H . G. Williams, general manager of the U t a h Fuel Company noting, "The [Winter Quarters] mine in general is in good condition, better than I ever saw it before." 47 Whether coincidence or not, Henry Parmley, another brother of Superintendent Thomas Parmley, had just been put on as foreman.48 Meanwhile, the coal industry reeled under the acrimonious strike of 1903—1904, which drew governmental attention from issues of safety to socalled issues of law enforcement. 49 Thomas continued calling for increased safety measures, but he was largely ignored in the confrontational climate. Furthermore,Thomas's health was deteriorating. In February 1906 the governor dictated a sympathetic letter offering "his sincere regrets on account of your ill health and to say that he is not at all concerned over your absence in trying to regain your health.... [T]he men you have in charge will be able to do justice to the work." 50 Some local pundits disagreed, however, and a Carbon County editorial scathingly insisted that "Thomas has simply outlived his usefulness, if he ever had any"51 In fact, Thomas was even unable to get up to the Winter Quarters mine that May because his doctor had advised avoiding high altitudes for at least another m o n t h . Instead, he admonished his replacement, "As you go around the mine, I wish you would take notice as to the amount of powder [that] is used in each shot and the kind of tamping used, as they must not use coal slack for tamping. I would also like you to take notice as to the timbering in rooms and pillars."52 In 1906 the faltering Thomas wrote in his final report of an unmet concern resulting from the Winter Quarters explosion: In my report of 1905 I suggested to the honorable legislature of Utah which meets in Jan. 1907, that they make an amendment to the coal and hydro-carbon laws of Utah, as follows: That it shall be unlawful for any miner or any employee in the coal or hydrocarbon mines of the State to use or set off any high explosives for the mining of coal or taking down of rock during the working hours, as all the shots must be fired after the men are all out of the mine excepting those that -will be needed to fire the same. 53

This practice, in use at the Castle Gate Mine since 1899, had been championed by Thomas with added urgency ever since the W i n t e r Quarters explosion. Ironically, however, it was not mandated by the state of Utah until 1924, after the major mine explosion at Castle Gate.54 47

Ibid. 1903,19. Ibid., 18. 49 For a full description, see Powell, The Next Time We Strike, 51-80. 50 N. P.Wilson, secretary to the governor, to Gomer Thomas, February 12, 1906, in State Coal Mines Inspector's Correspondence; original at American West Center, University of Utah, Salt Lake City, Utah; copy in possession of the author. 51 Advocate, April 26, 1906. 52 Gomer Thomas to Andrew Gilbert, May 7, 1906, in State Coal Mine Inspector's Correspondence; copy in possession of the author. 53 SCMIR 1906, 46. 54 Whiteside, Regulating Danger, 151—52. 48

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By that time, Thomas was dead. As his 1912 obituary noted, he had retired as state coal mine inspector in 1907 due to failing health. It continued, " H e -was said to be one of the best informed men in Utah on coal and coal mines.... He belonged to no church, but was broad in his religious views and tolerant of the views and beliefs of others." The obituary could also have added that he never forgot the lessons of Winter Quarters. H e consistently stressed safety, always trying to temper the explosive potential of Utah's coal.55

55 Advocate, September 5, 1912. In modern times, the explosive potential of coal dust has been harnessed. In coal-fired electricity generating plants, coal is powdered and the dust exploded under controlled conditions to create a fireball that reaches up to 2,600 degrees Fahrenheit. The fireball turns water to steam, which is used to turn the turbines. The turbine shafts connect with generators that produce electricity.

157


Infant Deaths in Utah, 1850-1939 By LEE L. BEAN, KEN R. SMITH, GERALDINE P. MINEAU, ALISON FRASER, and DIANA LANE

O

f all the health revolutions that have taken place in the United States tsince 1850, the reduction of infant mortality is arguably the most dramatic and far-reaching. Because of the incompleteness and unreliability of surviving vital records, we will probably never know precisely the rate of infant deaths a century ago. But an informed estimate would be that somewhere between 15 and 20 percent of all American infants born in the second half of the nineteenth century died before they could celebrate their first birthdays. It also seems probable that in some large cities and industrial towns, as well as in certain areas of the South, the rates were considerably higher, ranging upward to 30 percent.1 T h e United States' records of births and deaths are certainly incomplete and unreliable for the last half of the nineteenth century and the first three decades of An unidentified child.

Lee L. Bean is professor emeritus, Department of Sociology, University of Utah. Ken R . Smith is professor, Department of Family and Consumer Studies, University of Utah. Geraldine P. Mineau is a research professor, Department of Oncological Sciences, and director of Population Sciences, Huntsman Cancer Institute, University of Utah. Dr. Mineau is also director of the Pedigree and Population Research, which has the responsibility for maintaining the Utah Population Database. Alison Fraser is the database manager, Utah Population Database, Huntsman Cancer Institute. Diana Lane is a program manager and nosologist, Department of Family and Consumer Studies and the Department of Population Sciences, Huntsman Cancer Institute. The authors wish to thank the Pedigree and Population Research, funded by the Huntsman Cancer Foundation, for providing the data and valuable computing support. The work -was supported by National Institutes of Health grant AG 12748 (Kinship and Socio-Demographic Determinants of Mortality).

1 Richard A. Meckel, Save the Babies: American Public Health Reform and the Prevention of Infant Mortality, 1850-1919 (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1990), 1.

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the twentieth century. Nevertheless, increasing evidence supports two conclusions: First, there was a continuous, yet erratic, decline in mortality rates beginning roughly in the mid-nineteenth century not only in the United States but in western Europe as well. This long-term decline of death rates and increase in life expectancy is often referred to as the mortality transition. Second, central to the mortality transition was the control of infant and child mortality. 2 Given the fact that the mortality transition was greatly influenced by reduced deaths among children, several historical demographers in the U n i t e d States and Europe have undertaken studies to document more explicitly where and when infant and child mortality came under control. In the United States these studies include analyses of vital records from states, cities, and counties that maintained vital records prior to the development of a national registration system. 3 Similar types of records are being organized and analyzed in Europe. 4 Studies of changing mortality and especially changing infant mortality do not, however, depend exclusively on the availability of some form of vital registration. In Europe there are an increasing number of village demographic histories based on reconstitution, or collating and linking birth (or baptism) and death (or burial) records from parish registries, family histories, and genealogies. In N o r t h America somewhat similar historical data sets have been compiled in Quebec and Utah. 5 T h e Utah data set is identified as the Utah Population Database, U P D B . T h e structure of the database is described in more detail below. It includes, among other records, an unusually large and accurate set of individual records of births and deaths linked into families and pedigrees. The record of births and infant deaths among the U P D B population provides an opportunity to add to the increasing understanding of the infant mortality c o m p o n e n t of the mortality transition, m a k i n g available data for an 2 Schofield and Reher report, "It was not until the latter part of the nineteenth century that mortality once again declined sharply in most areas of Europe. Child mortality, and somewhat later, infant mortality were responsible for much of this decline"; Roger Schofield and David Reher, "Introduction," in The Decline of Mortality in Europe, ed. Roger Schofield, David Reher, and Alain Bideau (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1991), 1. JaquesVallin, referring to a much earlier period, provides a more telling illustration: "In pre-industrial Europe mortality during the early stages of life, infant mortality was very high, and had a considerable effect on life expectancy at birth. Thus, in France in 1740—44, the chances of dying within the first five years of fife were nearly one-half (0.474). If this mortality could have been eliminated by the touch of a magic wand, life expectancy at birth would have immediately increased by 21 years from 24.2 to 45.7 years. The principal feature of the first stage of the mortality transition, therefore, was the reduction in mortality at early stages of life." Jacques Vallin, "Mortality in Europe from 1720 to 1914: LongTerm Trends and Changes in Patterns by Age and Sex," in Schofield et al., The Decline of Mortality, 49. 3 For an exhaustive summary of historical estimates of levels and changes in infant and child mortality in the United States, see Samuel H. Preston and Michael R. Haines, Fatal Years: Child Mortality in Late Nineteenth Century America (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1991), 52—57. 4 See Alain Bideau, Bertrand Desjardins, and Hector Perez Brignoli, eds., Infant and Child Mortality in the Past (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1997), 91. 5 George Alter, "Infant Mortality in the United States and Canada," in Bideau et al., Infant and Child Mortality, 91.

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American region for which there are few complete and accurate late nineteenth- and early twentieth-century official records. U P D B records allow us to study the fate of many children born in Utah from 1850 to 1939, and the data make it possible to extend the study of infant mortality beyond the measures used in almost all historical demographic studies of infant mortality.6 Infant mortality is measured by the number of deaths of children under the age of one divided by the number of births occurring during the same interval of time—a year or a combination of years—standardized for purposes of comparison for each 1,000 births. The infant mortality rate may be divided into two components. The neonatal mortality rate is the number of deaths in the first month of life (formally, the first twenty-eight days of life) divided by the number of births during the year. The second component is the post-neonatal mortality rate, in which the numerator is the number of deaths during the second through twelfth months of life. It is important to include an analysis of all three measures. These infant mortality rates are the standard measure and the basis for comparing the historical record of Utah with other reports. Improvements in infant mortality rates reflect various interventions. Neonatal mortality is primarily due to premature births, birth trauma, or congenital anomalies, and improvements in these rates depend, in part, on improved prenatal care, delivery systems, and medical intervention. Postneonatal mortality rates, on the other hand, are more often due to infectious and parasitic diseases; a decline in these rates is usually the result of improved public and family health measures. Consequently, there are differences in the rates of improvement in these two components of the infant mortality rate. For example, a 1912 report concludes, "In all quarters greater significance is being attached to the fact that the greatest reduction in infant mortality so far has been in the digestive and respiratory diseases and that little headway has been made in cutting down the appalling death rate in the first few weeks of life."7 In addition to showing general trends of early child mortality the data available in the Utah Population Database (UPDB) provide the detail necessary to approach the history of child-loss in Utah from 1850 through 1939 from a different perspective. T h e traditional measures of infant mortality may have provided stimuli and guidelines for public health and 6 The development of UPDB began in 1974. Initially the project involved the selection and data entry of family group sheets. These in turn were to be linked with the computerized records of the Utah Tumor Registry consisting of diagnosed cases of cancer primarily in Utah. The basic purpose was to identify the clustering of specific forms of cancers within families. For a summary of the development of U P D B see Mark Skolnick, "The Utah genealogical data base: A resource for genetic epidemiology," in Banbury Report No. 4: Cancer Incidence in Defined Population, ed. J. Cairns (New York: Cold Spring Harbor Laboratory, 1980), 285-97 and Mark Skolnick, Lee L. Bean, Sue M. Dintelman, and Geraldine P. Mineau, A Computerized Family History Data Base," Sociology and Social Research 63 (Fall 1979), 601-19. 7 Report of the Executive Secretary, Transactions of the American Association for Study and Prevention of Infant Mortality, 1912 (Baltimore: AASPIM, 1913), quoted in Meckel, Save the Babies, 160.

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medical programs, but these measures provide little information on the experiences of families. Was the loss of children c o m m o n across m a n y families or concentrated among a few? W e address this question by looking at the changing proportion of mothers experiencing the loss of a child as well as calculating w h e n m u l t i p l e deaths a m o n g b r o t h e r s a n d sisters occurred within a single year as a means of evaluating historical references to epidemics. Because U P D B does not include a record of every individual birth and death in Utah, we begin with a summary of -what official records are available and subsequently compare the U P D B rates with those available from other sources. Second, we summarize our reading of family and county histories that reflect on the deaths of children in Utah. Third, we present the trends in infant, neonatal, and p o s t - n e o n a t a l mortality followed by an analysis of the frequency of child loss and the temporal clustering of infant deaths a m o n g families. Finally, -we conclude by placing our analysis in a broader context of historical change.

T h e Official Statistical R e c o r d From 1850 through 1900, death records were collected at the time of each decennial census in the U n i t e d States. These are valuable but i n c o m plete resources because they depend on fallible retrospective reporting by c o m m u n i t y representatives, medical personnel, and family members. Early in the twentieth century, the federal government assigned responsibility to the Census Bureau to collect and summarize mortality records for states and cities that had in place an official registration system guaranteeing "at least a fair degree of completeness." Any state or city accepted into the syst e m was identified as part of the Death Registration Area (DRA); initially, the D R A included only ten eastern states and the District of Columbia. 8 T h e Census Bureau became a p e r m a n e n t agency by act of Congress in 1902, and its first annual report of mortality statistics covered the period 1 9 0 0 - 1 9 0 4 . T h e s e r e p o r t s d i d n o t i n c l u d e U t a h or Salt Lake City. Beginning in 1905 Salt Lake City was included as a D R A , but U t a h at large was not included until 1910. 9 U t a h began to collect death statistics statewide in 1904, but from 1904 through 1909 the state still did not m e e t the criterion of "reasonable completeness" in the registration of deaths. 8

Department of Commerce and Labor, Bureau of the Census, Mortality Statistics, 1908 (Washington, D . C : Government Printing Office, 1910), 9.The Death Registration Area had come into being before the turn of the century. Therefore, some volumes of the 1900 census report mortality rates for the initial group of D R A states. 9 Salt Lake City created a vital statistics reporting system in 1895, preceding the state system by nine years. T h e earlier establishment of the Salt Lake City system allowed the city to meet the "reasonably c o m plete" standard earlier than the state as a whole. Therefore, Salt Lake City mortality data are included in the federal D R A reports from 1905 onward. See, for example, Department of Commerce and Labor, Bureau of the Census, Special Reports: Mortality Statistics 1900 to 1904 (Washington, D . C : Government Printing Office, 1906), and Department of Commerce and Labor, Bureau of the Census, Mortality Statistics, 1908 (Washington, D . C : Government Printing Office, 1910).

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Early official records, then, are sporadic, making comparisons over time difficult. In the case of Utah, there are mortality statistics associated with the censuses of 1850 through 1900 and then a set of annual records from 1910 onward. In the case of infant mortality—children dying in the first year of life per 1,000 births in the same year—accurate measures require complete counts of the number of infant deaths as well as the number of children born during a given year. However, information on births was not routinely collated and reported by the federal government until 1915, and Utah did not meet the "reasonable completeness" standard until 1917. 10 According to official records, Utah would seem to have had a lowerthan-average rate of infant mortality. Data collected in the decennial census of 1880 indicate that the infant mortality rate for the United States in that decade was 110.9 male deaths for every 1,000 male births and 90.5 female deaths for every 1,000 female births; for Utah, the rates were 87.2 for males and 71.6 for females. Using the Bureau of Census enumerations, H e n r y Hibbs calculated infant mortality rates for 1910 from the number of infant deaths relative to the number of children under age one counted in the 1910 census. H e found that Utah had the lowest rate of infant deaths (82.3) among the twenty-two states reporting the n u m b e r of infant deaths in 1910." O f the states included in D R A in 1917, the records indicate that Utah again had the lowest infant mortality rate. By 1919, as other states were included in D R A , four had lower rates than Utah, but Utah's rate remained considerably lower than the national rate for the white population: 68 infant deaths per 1,000 births versus 91. These official records certainly suggest that mortality risks for infants and children may have been lower in Utah than in the earlier-settled, more densely populated areas of the eastern United States. However, these low rates conflict with historical references to frequent child deaths in Utah.

Historical References t o Infant and Child Mortality There have been a few remarkable community-level studies in U t a h that give estimates of infant mortality for various periods in the nineteenth century using censuses, genealogies, and other records. Larry Logue used a 10

Department of Commerce, Bureau of the Census, Birth Statistics for the Registration Area of the United States: 1915. First Annual Report (Washington, D . C : Government Printing Office, 1917); Department of C o m m e r c e , Bureau of the Census, Birth Statistics for the Registration Area of the United States: 1911 (Washington, D . C : Government Printing Office, 1917). 11 In 1910 the calculation for Utah was based on the number of children under the age of one enumerated in the 1910 census. T h e result is quite different from the procedure that uses the number of births as the denominator. Using the enumerated children under age one results in an "infant mortality rate" for Utah of 82.3, or a rate higher than the 1900 and 1920 rates. In only seven states and two cities were births accurately recorded, allowing for computation of the infant mortality rate using both procedures. The differences are, in some cases, substantial. T h e traditional computation yields a rate of 127 for Connecticut, but using the number of enumerated children under the age of one as the denominator yields a rate of 143.7. See Henry H. Hibbs, Jr., Infant Mortality: Its Relation to Social and Industrial Conditions (New York: Russell Sage Foundation, 1916; reprint N e w York and London: Garland Publishing, 1987), 4—5.

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variety of records to construct a life table for St. George, 1861—80. H e writes, "Nearly 150 of each 1,000 newborns died before their first birthday, and mortality worsened in the next four years [of life]." D e a n May employed an LDS church census of Kanab for 1874 and found an infant mortality rate of 10 percent, or about 100 deaths per 1,000 births. In addition, a 1985 analysis of the Utah Population Database using a variety of methods to adjust for missing deaths calculated a range of estimates of infant mortality rates for males born in 1880—89: 77.4 for the low and 104.4 for the high. These studies suggest higher infant mortality rates than those reported in either the 1880 or 1890 censuses.12 More qualitative and individualized historical studies note the relative frequency of deaths among children. For example, Ed-ward A. Geary's history of Emery County reports that -when LDS apostle Francis M. Lyman visited the county in 1880, he was told that in one community there had been "but three deaths, and they were of children." Diphtheria epidemics appear to have taken a frightful toll on children, often resulting in the deaths of several children in the same family within hours or days of one another. Geary continues: Even if there had been more trained physicians in Emery County, nineteenth-century medicine had little to offer against the epidemic diseases that periodically ravaged the region. During a diphtheria epidemic in 1886, there were twenty-seven deaths in Huntington, thirteen of them occurring in a single week between Christmas and N e w Year. Thirteen children died in one week in Ferron and Molen.The Duncan family lost four children within a few hours. 13

A family history from Davis County yields the same story of multiple deaths in the same family. W h e n Ma's oldest son, Nelse, was twelve years old, diphtheria swept over the area. Ma's four children contracted the disease in October, 1878. The baby was the first to succumb. T h e same night Annie, the eight year old, died; the next m o r n i n g A n t o n breathed his last. Nelse, an exceptionally intelligent boy, was full of faith, and Ma and Grandfather kept high hopes for his recovery, but five days later he too died.14

Among the volumes appearing in the recent Utah Centennial County History Series, diphtheria appears to be the second-most frequent epidemic after influenza. These county histories detail the spread of diphtheria throughout a wide range of counties, including Beaver, Carbon, Emery, Garfield, Kane, Millard, Morgan, Tooele, Uintah, Utah, and Wayne. Other

12

Larry M. Logue, A Sermon in the Desert: Belief and Behavior in Early St. George, Utah (Urbana and Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 1988): 94; Dean L. May, "People on the Mormon Frontier: Kanab's Families of 1874," Journal of Family History 1 (1976): 183; Katherine A. Lynch, Geraldine P. Mineau, and Douglas L. Anderton, "Estimates of Infant Mortality on the Western Frontier: The Use of Genealogical Data," Historical Methods 18 (Fall 1985): 155-64. 13 Edward A. Geary, A History of Emery County (Salt Lake City: Utah State Historical Society and Emery County Commission, 1996), 151,153. 14 Ardelle Hogan Mills, ed., The Knud Nelson Family from Denmark to America (Bountiful, Utah: Carr Printing Company, 1962), 239.

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sources identify diphtheria epidemics in Davis and Salt Lake counties, 15 and epidemics may have occurred in other areas as well. The 1918—19 influenza epidemic is the most frequently cited epidemic in the county histories, but this epidemic disproportionally resulted in the deaths of young adults and especially males.16 The histories also make references to other diseases typically associated with infant and child deaths. "Outbreaks of scarlet fever and smallpox also took a toll. Typhoid fever, usually contracted from polluted drinking water, was endemic in the county, claiming several lives each year. Pneumonia -was also a constant threat, especially to young children."17 Throughout much of the state there was the problem of contaminated -water supplies, which resulted in the recurrence of typhoid and infant diarrheal diseases. The negative picture of disease and early deaths noted in family and county histories corresponds to the high estimates of early infant mortality produced in the studies by Logue, May, and Lynch et al. Nevertheless, there may have been some advantage to living in Utah, away from the more densely settled eastern states where contagion was more likely, especially in the urban areas. In addition, there were some resources that may have reduced very early infant deaths. Many historical references indicate an extensive network of Utah midwives -whose reported record of mother and infant care is remarkable. For example, the daughter of Ellen Meeks Hoyt claims, "If my memory and those of others who live here serve, she never had a woman or a baby die out of the seven hundred cases she cared for."18 In the case of Patty Bartlett Sessions, "of the 3,977 babies that she brought...[in only two] cases [did she have] cause to note any particular difficulty" 19 If the network of midwives was as successful as these two examples suggest, their work should be reflected in fewer deaths during the 15 Dr. Ralph T. Richards analyzed data from various sources, including hospitals, cemeteries, and the Salt Lake City Board of Health to estimate the numbers of deaths from various types of diseases in Salt Lake City. Records from the Salt Lake City and Mt. Olivet cemeteries between 1848 and 1894 indicate the burials of 2,715 children under age two for which the recorded cause of death was diarrheal disease. From 1895 to 1948 there were 1,550 deaths from diarrheal diseases recorded by the Salt Lake City Board of Health. Dr. Richards's examination of city cemetery books finds 1,240 deaths between 1863 and 1894 attributed to diphtheria, with especially heavy concentrations in 1878, 1879, 1880, and 1891. See Ralph T. Richards, Of Medicine, Hospitals, and Doctors (Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, 1953). 16 The 1918 flu epidemic had an age-related mortality pattern different from any other influenza epidemic. Recent studies report that in contrast to the traditional " U " shaped curve with high mortality among the young and old, the 1918 flu epidemic followed a " W " curve with especially high levels of mortality among young adults and especially males; see Gina B. Kolata, The Story of the Great Influenza Pandemic of 1918 and the Search for the Virus that Caused It (New York: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 1999); Andrew Noymer and Michel Garenne, "The 1918 Influenza Epidemic's Effects on Sex Differentials in Mortality in the United States," Population and Development Review 26 (September 2000): 565—81. Referring to a family history, Lyman and Newell quote in reference to the flu,'"Most of those who have fallen victim have been big, hearty men, with the best part of life ahead of them'"; Edward Leo Lyman and Linda King Newell, A History of Millard County (Salt Lake City: Utah Historical Society and Millard County Commission, 1991), 253. 17 Geary, A History of Emery County, 153. 18 Claire Noall,"Mormon Midwives," Utah Historical Quarterly 10 (1942): 125. 19 Ibid., 109

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INFANT DEATHS

first m o n t h of life (neonatal mortality). T h e detailed data from the Utah Population Database allow for the analysis of neonatal mortality rates as well as post-neonatal mortality rates, although these measures did n o t become available in official statistics until 1920.

T h e U t a h Population Database To provide another view of the levels and changes of infant mortality we return to the Utah Population Database. As stated, a 1985 study by Lynch, Mineau, and Anderton made use of the U P D B in an earlier form. 20 Since that original study, the database has been expanded in a number of ways. For example, the grant acknowledged in this paper provided funding to enter Utah death certificates dating from 1904 until the present into the database. These records eliminated many cases of unknown death dates. U P D B contains approximately 1.5 million genealogy records of individuals among families identified on selected "family group sheets" from the Family History Library of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS). T h e family group sheets were selected if one or more family m e m bers experienced a demographic event—-birth or death—in Utah. Further details regarding the selection and quality of records have been described in a n u m b e r of previous publications. 2 1 T h e representative nature of the genealogy file has been demonstrated in a variety of demographic studies that include fertility,22 birth spacing, 23 adult mortality, 24 and households. 25 Since t h e analysis by Lynch, M i n e a u , and A n d e r t o n using the U t a h Population Database, perhaps the most important extension of the database has been the entry and linking of Utah death certificates from 1904 to the present. 26 T h e files now more accurately confirm dates of death from 1904 onward and show which children b o r n in the nineteenth century survived to older ages. 20

Lynch et al., "Estimates of Infant Mortality." See, for instance, Lee L. Bean, Geraldine P. Mineau, and Douglas L. Anderton, Fertility Change on the American Frontier (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1990). The selection involved a review of all family group sheets in the "Patron" section in 1975-76. Additional sheets were added following a review of the "Main" section in 1978-79. 22 Ibid., 109-138. 23 Douglas L. Anderton and Lee L. Bean, "Birth Spacing and Fertility Limitation: a Behavioral Analysis of a Nineteenth Century Frontier Population," Demography 22 (May 1985): 169-83. 24 Lee L. Bean, Geraldine P. Mineau, and Ken R . Smith, "The Effect of Pioneer Life on the Longevity of Married Couples," in Nearly Everything Imaginable: The Everyday Life of Utah's Mormon Pioneers, ed. Ronald Walker and Doris Dant (Provo: Brigham Young University Press, 1999), 386-403. 25 Geraldine P. Mineau, Lee L. Bean, and Douglas L. Anderton, "Description and Evaluation of Linkage of the 1880 Census to Family Genealogies: Implications for Utah Fertility Research," Historical Methods 22 (1989): 144-57. 26 Most demographic analysis of U P D B has focused on fertility change. The recent addition and linkage of the death certificates to the genealogies provide new opportunities to study mortality in Utah. See, for example, Ken R . Smith and Geraldine P. Mineau, "Effects of Childbearing Patterns on Parental Mortality for Marriages during 1860-1919," paper presented at the 1996 annual meetings of the Population Association of America; and Geraldine P. Mineau, Ken R . Smith, and Lee L. Bean, "Historical Trends of Survival among Widows and Widowers," Social Science and Medicine, 54 (2002): 245-54. 21

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This study limits analysis to a subset of the files. In the first analysis, we restrict our study to infants born in Utah between 1850 and 1939 where the exact dates of birth and death were recorded. In the second two analyses—mothers'losses of children and the clustering of family deaths within a specific time interval—-we use data where children are linked to mothers. In these cases the analysis is restricted to mothers -who married only once, gave birth to at least two children, and survived in an intact marriage until the mother reached the age of fifty, typically the upper limit of the age of childbearing. There are some data limitations. Because the original core data set of U P D B consisted of family group sheets from the LDS Family History Library, the records are more likely to represent members of this church, although they do contain substantial numbers of individuals with no affiliation with the church. In addition, place of death is often missing among children w h o died during the late nineteenth century, although place of birth is generally well recorded. Therefore our analysis is based on infant and child deaths among those w h o were born in Utah; some relatively small number may have died outside of Utah. Other constraints are also necessary in the analysis of the data, and as these affect a particular form of analysis they are detailed in the following sections as needed.

Neonatal, Post-neonatal, and Infant Mortality, 1850 t o 1939 Table 1 presents estimates of neonatal, post-neonatal, and infant mortality rates for the period 1850 through 1939 in five-year groups. Table 1 also includes data from federal statistics— Table 1. Neonatal, Post-neonatal, and Infant Mortality Rates from UPDB and Federally Reported Statistics. censuses and vital Infant Mortality Rates, Neonatal Rates, Deaths Post-Neonatal Rates, statistics—as t h e Deaths in the First Year Date in the First Month of Life Deaths in Months 2 of Life per 1000 Births through 12 per 1000 per 1000 Births basis for identifying Births differences between UPDB Fed. Stat. UPDB Fed. Stat Fed. Stat UPDB these two sources of 44.9 1850-54 22.3 22.6 203.3 data for s e l e c t e d 52.2 23.2 29.0 1855-59 71.7 1860-64 27.8 43.9 62.0 years. T h e U P D B 52.4 86.0 33.6 1865-69 86.4 1870-74 36.4 50.0 data are combined 63.7 81.4 47.2 1875-79 34.2 81.3 1880-84 37.0 44.3 into five-year inter79.8 37.3 49.1 86.4 1885-89 vals t o " s m o o t h " 85.9 1890-94 39.2 46.7 72.8 76.8 37.1 39.7 1895-99 the minor year-to38.3 76.7 1900-04 38.4 63.2 72.3 1905-09 39.8 32.5 year f l u c t u a t i o n s . (82.3)" 1910-14 39.5 24.1 63.6 60.0 1915-19 39.4 20.6 67.0 Therefore, compar20.5 59.8 1920-24 39.3 66.7 isons w i t h n i n e 1925-29 36.7 37.1 15.9 24.3 52.6 61.4 45.5 1930-34 31.7 17.9 32.3 13.2 49.6 teenth-c entury 31.0 14.9 43.4 1935-39 32.2 11.2 45.9 federal estimates a

a

a

a

a

a

C

are annrnYimatP . . b e c a u s e tUe CJ.rEJr

166

a

Decennial census-based estimate using deaths and births in the preceding year. Decennial census-based estimate using births and enumerated population under age 1. c 1917>-19 vital registration data. All subsequent rates are based on available vital registration data. b


INFANT DEATHS

estimates represent five years of events, while the federal estimates are for a single census year. The major difference between the federal and the UPDB estimates is for 1850. The census reports an infant mortality rate of 203.3, but U P D B reports 44.9 for 1850—54. This difference may well reflect the fact that our U P D B analysis is limited to infants who were both born and deceased in Utah. The federal statistics would include infant deaths among migrants after their arrival in Utah even though some of the children may have been born outside of Utah. Therefore, the number of births—the denominator of the rate—used in the calculation of the federal rate in Utah may be underestimated. There are several reasons why the U P D B rates for 1850—54 and 1855—59 may be low. First, the low rates may represent inconsistent recording of both births and deaths during the difficult early years of settlement. Second, given the low population density, contagion may have been less of a problem than it would be later on.27 Third, given the difficulties of migration as well as the high rates of mortality in the sites from "which the settlers migrated, the earliest settlers and their infants may represent a robust group of survivors.28 Unfortunately there is no information allowing one to conclude that any one reason is more important than others, and indeed all three may, in combination, account for these low rates. With the exception of 1850-54, U P D B rates for the last half of the nineteenth century are higher than the federal estimates, suggesting that the census collection procedures may have been incomplete. 29 In the twentieth century, federal counts of post-neonatal deaths are higher than the U P D B estimates. These lower U P D B rates in the twentieth century may be due to the fact that the U P D B population is dominated by members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. These mothers may have had access to more resources—church and community—to provide assistance in the case of childhood medical crises. In spite of the differences in levels, it is clear that there is a close correspondence between the two estimates in terms of trends. There is an advantage gained from separating the neonatal from the post-neonatal mortality rates. As noted above, the post-neonatal mortality deaths (from age two months through twelve months) are generally due to 27 Morrell notes, "Diseases were relatively rare in the early days of the settlement because the country was uncontaminated. Refuse had not had time to accumulate. As time went on and contamination increased, the population also become more dense, disease became more prevalent"; Joseph R. Morrell, Utah's Health andYou:A History of Utah's Public Health (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Company, 1956), 32. 28 Richards believed that while early migrants may have been infected with diphtheria, the disease ran its course over the time it took to migrate from the Midwest to Utah. The surviving migrants were thus "disease-free." Consequently the first death attributed to diphtheria among the Salt Lake City Cemetery burials was not recorded until 1863; see Richards, Of Medicine, Hospitals, and Doctors, 151. 29 In our judgment the UPDB is more likely to reflect the actual level of infant mortality. The census procedure of sending retrospective questions and questionnaires to medical practitioners—with a low response rate—appears to yield incomplete counts. Questions regarding the accuracy of the census have a long history.

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UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

infectious and parasitic diseases and especially diarrhea. Post-neonatal rates generally decline from 1865—69 onward, but it is not until the turn of the century that the post-neonatal death rate falls below the neonatal death rates. A decline in neonatal mortality generally depends on improved preand post-neonatal care as well as medical intervention. These improvements apparently did not become widely available until the early decades of the twentieth century. Thus, the neonatal rate does not begin to drop until after World War I. T h e sharp increase in the rate of neonatal deaths from 1850—54 to 1865—69 may be due to the incorrect recording of early deaths as stillborns in the earlier years. T h e slight increase from 1865—69 through 1905—1909 may be the result of two factors -widely identified with increased risks of neonatal mortality. These are, first, the initiation of childbearing at relatively young ages and, second, relatively brief intervals between successive births. As we have shown elsewhere, there is a decline in the mean age of marriage across successive cohorts. O u r earlier analysis of fertility change showed that, of those -women w h o eventually married, 48.4 percent of those b o r n in 1835—39 married before age twenty and 58.2 percent of those women born in 1850—54 married before age twenty. These w o m e n -would have commenced childbearing approximately between 1850 and 1865. W o m e n "who married before age twenty began childbearing early and gave birth, on average, to nine children. 30 In the absence of an unusually large number of multiple births (twins, triplets, etc.), an average of nine live births would suggest that the time between births would be relatively brief. Consequently, the increasing proportion of early marriages leading to early childbearing as well as successive short birth intervals may have increased the risk of neonatal mortality. Examination of post-neonatal deaths suggests that there may have been a significant impact from diphtheria epidemics but little impact from the 1918 influenza epidemic. T h e post-neonatal deaths began to decline after 1865—69 but then increased during 1885—89 and 1890—94. This increase corresponds to several c o u n t y history references to diphtheria. These include Beaver County in 1891, Carbon in 1891, Emery in 1886, Millard in 1889, Morgan in 1889, and Tooele in 1884. Diphtheria "was also reported at later dates in several counties, but it appears that the 1880s and 1890s represented crisis periods. If diphtheria itself did not actually increase postneonatal mortality, it may have slowed down the pace of improvement in infant mortality. There is no evidence that the 1918—19 influenza epidemic disproportionately increased the number of post-neonatal deaths, but it does appear to have slowed the pace of improvement. T h e rates and numbers of postneonatal deaths declined significantly from 1905—1909 to 1910—14. From

'Bean, Mineau, and Anderton, Fertility Change on the American Frontier, 125—32.

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INFANT DEATHS

1910—14 to 1915—19 the numbers and rates continued to fall but at a slower pace. The 1918—19 influenza epidemic did not dramatically affect infant mortality because of the relationship between age and mortality unique to this particular flu epidemic; it was remarkable because of its great mortality among young adults and especially men. 31 Loss o f Children in Families U P D B provides opportunities to analyze data in ways not possible with vital statistics systems. These files, within "which husbands and wives are linked with children in a family unit, make it possible to answer questions of how many families experienced the loss of one or more children and when this trend changed. In this study we analyze sequential groups of m o t h e r s classiTable 2. Once-Married Mothers Losing One or More Infants Under Age One fied by the date of the mother's Average Year of First Number of Lost One Lost Two or Lost One or Number of first c h i l d b i r t h Birth Infant Only Children Mothers More More in U t a h . T h e (Percent) (Percent) Ever Born (Percent) data presented in 44.1 1850-54 1003 25.5 18.6 9.2 1441 27.7 17.6 45.3 9.2 1855-59 Table 2 b e g i n 27.6 20.4 9.2 1860-64 48.0 1480 with mothers 1951 27.5 20.0 47.5 9.0 1865-69 1870-74 27.2 18.2 45.4 9.2 2210 -whose first birth 2778 26.4 19.3 45.7 9.1 1875-79 1880-84 3215 26.6 17.3 44.0 8.6 was in 1850-54 3421 15.7 8.2 1885-89 27.6 43.3 and end with 1890-94 25.7 14.5 40.2 3479 7.7 3695 24.5 11.6 36.2 7.2 1895-99 m o t h e r s -who 4174 1900-04 22.8 9.8 32.6 6.8 began childbear1905-09 4239 20.4 8.5 28.9 6.3 1910-14 4479 19.6 6.9 26.5 5.9 ing in 1935-39. 1915-19 4670 17.1 5.2 22.3 5.4 In Table 2 w e 1920-24 5033 3.9 16.0 19.9 4.7 1925-29 4671 12.6 3.2 15.8 4.3 summarize these 1930-34 3364 11.1 2.4 13.5 4.0 1935-39 2342 8.8 1.1 9.9 3.9 data, looking at whether women Women survivec to age 49 and husband survived until wife reach ed age 49. lost o n e child, one or more, or two or more children. We also include a column with the average number of children born to mothers. To eliminate various confounding factors, -we limit the analysis to once-married women w h o gave birth to at least two children, w h o survived to age forty-nine, and whose husband did not die until after she reached age forty-nine. Among the women w h o commenced childbearing in Utah during the period 1850 through 1854, more than 40 percent -would lose at least one infant. More than 25 percent lost one only, but 15 to 20 percent lost two or more infants. This high number of infant deaths coincided with a period 31 In 1918 only 5.1 percent of the 926 deaths of children under the age of one was attributed to flu. In the age group twenty to twenty-nine, 49 percent of the 955 deaths were due to flu, and in the age group thirty to thirty-nine, 45 percent of the 892 deaths were due to flu; Department of Commerce, Bureau of the Census, Mortality Statistics, 1918 (Washington, D . C : Government Printing Office, 1920),Table 8, 411.

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UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

when -women typically ended childbearing having given birth to an average of slightly more than nine children. This is not to suggest that the data indicate a causal connection between having many children and the death of infants. There is a relationship, but without further analysis one can only assume at this time that the more children at risk, the greater the likelihood of at least one (and perhaps more) dying.32 The likelihood of experiencing multiple deaths (two or more) begins to fall after 1880; the chances of losing only one child begins to decline systematically only after 1890. The rate falls to approximately one in ten mothers losing one or more infants for those w h o began childbearing during 1935—39. Temporal Clustering o f Deaths in Families The rules used in this study to identify the clustering of children's deaths were relaxed to allow for those cases that might result from continuous exposure to poor health conditions rather than discrete epidemic events, such as t h e diphtheria epiTable 3. Clustered and Independent Loss of Children by Mothers Experiencing the Loss of a demics that Child Under the Age of 15 resulted in Mothers Who Lost Two or More Children Date of First Birth multiple deaths Mothers Who Lost within a short Only One Child (Percent) period, For Clustered: Two or Children Died More women who More Died within than One Year Apart married once One Year (Percent) (Percent) and -who sur1850-54 8.2 58.0 33.8 v i v e d in an 1855-59 6.6 58.4 35.0 intact marriage 1860-64 10.3 53.2 36.5 1865-69 11.3 51.9 36.7 until the age of 1870-74 7.6 52.2 40.2 1875-79 12.3 43.7 44.0 forty-nine, we 1880-84 11.3 43.5 45.2 have calculated 1885-89 8.5 39.4 52.1 1890-94 9.0 35.6 55.4 the proportion 1895-99 6.0 33.8 60.2 w h o lost t w o 1900-04 6.1 25.9 68.0 5.2 1905-09 22.8 72.1 or m o r e chil1910-14 3.4 18.3 78.2 1915-19 3.1 13.7 83.2 dren under the 1920-24 3.0 11.8 85.3 age of fifteen. 1925-29 2.3 8.1 89.6 1930-34 1.3 5.8 92.9 To be counted 1935-39 .9 3.5 95.6 as a c l u s t e r e d event for any reference child, a brother or sister had to die within one year after the death of the reference child. Data presented in Table 3 are for only those women who lost at least one child younger than age fifteen.

32

There is a possible two-way causal relationship between the number of children born and infant deaths. O n the one hand there is evidence of a greater risk of infant loss at very high parities (number of births), yet women also may be motivated to "replace" a child who dies.

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INFANT DEATHS

O u r data indicate that there is considerable variation in the percent of clustered cases among w o m e n w h o began childbearing during the period 1850 through 1894, but it is evident that clustering of deaths was not a rare event. M o r e than 10 percent of the mothers beginning childbearing in 1860-64, 1865-69, 1875-79 and 1880-84 lost two or more children within a year. T h e numbers drop during the next two five-year intervals; nevertheless, roughly one of twelve mothers still lost two or more children within a brief period. T h e high rate of clustering also appears to coincide, approximately with the relatively early periods of settlement and the periods w h e n highly contagious diphtheria was a major cause of death.

Summary and Conclusions As Meckel stated in the paragraph quoted at the beginning of this article, our knowledge of the increasing control of infant and child mortality in the late nineteenth century and early twentieth century is incomplete because of the absence of reliable and accurate records. A number of recent efforts have provided better understanding of these changes through the development of historical data sets from census records, genealogies, parish records, and other sources. Complementing these sets of data specifically developed for demographic analysis is the U t a h Population Database (UPDB), which was developed for purposes of medical research. U P D B provides detailed demographic information and the opportunity to study changes in infant and child mortality from the time of early settlement through the early decades of the twentieth century. U P D B is not a completely accurate representation of changes in infant and child mortality in Utah, but it is certainly representative of trends. In the nineteenth century, U P D B shows infant mortality rates that were higher than those based on mortality statistics collected during the decennial censuses (with the exception of 1850). In the first half of the twentieth century, as more effective registration systems were developed state by state, the U P D B shows rates that are slightly lower than the vital statistics reports. Yet the trends remain the same. Despite the many historical references to epidemics and catastrophic loss of young children, the "official" record indicates that infant mortality in Utah during the second half of the nineteenth century was lower than the national average. In both records, however, losses were high by today's standards. If epidemics -were responsible for heavy loss of children, our data indicate that it was essentially the diphtheria epidemics of the 1870s, 1880s, and early 1890s that either slowed down improvements in infant mortality or increased post-neonatal mortality rates. These periodic outbreaks of diphtheria also appear to account for increases in the loss of two or more children within the same family. Post-neonatal mortality rates began to decline systematically around 1 8 9 0 — t h a t is, near the time w h e n diphtheria epidemics b e c a m e less

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frequent, less widespread, and more responsive to methods of isolation and treatment. There is little basis in either U P D B or vital statistics to indicate that the great 1918 flu epidemic dramatically reversed the decline in infant mortality T h e decline in infant mortality from the late nineteenth century continuing t h r o u g h the i m m e d i a t e post-World War I p e r i o d -was due almost entirely to a fall in post-neonatal deaths. Improvements in neonatal mortality did not occur until after World War I. O u r data therefore suggest that, despite anecdotal evidence of their skill, the extensive network of midwives developed in the late nineteenth century had little or no impact on neonatal mortality rates. Infant mortality rates in Utah may have been lower than the national average, and this may reflect the more rural, more -widely dispersed population. In their analysis of 1900 census data, Preston and Haines showed that, after race, the most important discriminating variable in the explanation of difference in infant mortality was location—large cities versus all other communities. 33 Utah did not have large cities, and even in the most densely settled community, Salt Lake City, population density did not approach the levels found in eastern cities. T h e 1890s fall in infant mortality in Utah preceded the development of effective public health programs, including the continuous disputatious efforts to improve water supplies and establish compulsory immunization. 34 It may have been at the level of the family that health measures were adopted, reducing the risk of infant mortality This argument is consistent with Preston and Haines, w h o cite the following as plausible reasons for infant mortality differences in the United States in 1900. Individual parents had access to many new, or newly justified, methods for reducing death risks in the h o m e : boiling milk and sterilizing bottles, methods first introduced in the 1890s; washing hands before preparing meals; protecting food from flies and other sources of contamination; isolating sick family members; and so on. T h e y also had access to physicians w h o were better equipped to deal with the hazards of the birth process and to render sensible advice o n health maintenance. 35

If a major reason for the decline in infant mortality was action in the home, parents had major stimuli to adopt health measures. T h e c o m m o n loss of a child was one stimulus. O u r data indicate that m o r e than 40 percent of women surviving in an intact marriage to age forty-nine and beginning childbearing before 1895-99 would lose at least one infant. Multiple losses began to decline earlier, among w o m e n initiating childbearing in 1875—79, but the percent of w o m e n losing two or more children in infancy did not fall below 10 percent until the turn of the century. If the loss of children motivated w o m e n to take action to reduce the risk

'Preston and Haines, FatalYears, 97—102. 'Morrell, Utah's Health and You, 45-46, 100-101. 'Preston and Haines, FatalYears, 209.

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of infant mortality, what information resources were available? 36 T h e Society of Health was established in Salt Lake City in 1849 to teach principles of health, although at that time the prevalent thought was much influenced by Thomsonian medicine, -which emphasized the use of herbs and plants for the treatment of illness. Later, physicians created a short-lived publication, the Salt Lake Sanitarian (1888—90), which republished articles and letters dealing -with personal and public health.37 Nineteenth-century midwives also became advocates for simple sanitary measures. Hannah Sorensen, a physician and convert from Denmark, began teaching her hygienic and obstetrics course in 1895. The course emphasized cleanliness, knowledge, and proper diet. For childbirth Sorensen stressed strict septic measures. Her course reportedly attracted midwives from throughout the state.38 Mid-wives may have had little impact on neonatal mortality, but they probably contributed to the decline in post-neonatal mortality as they taught principles learned in such instructional programs. As difficult as the process of settlement and colonization was for the Utah pioneers, in terms of infant mortality the population fared better than the population in the more densely settled eastern states. According to standard measurements, Utah in the nineteenth century had lower rates of infant mortality than populations elsewhere. Nevertheless, the population endured major epidemics such as diphtheria, resulting in the loss of many children and often multiple losses. A majority of mothers escaped the loss of an infant, but more than 40 percent did lose one or more children. These frequent losses may well have provided the stimulus to adopt procedures that produced improvement in infant mortality late in the nineteenth century. As important as public health programs -would prove to be in continuing the decline of infant mortality in Utah during the first decades of the twentieth century, initial improvements predated the formal organization of public health programs, including the initial appointment of a public health officer in Salt Lake City in the 1890s and the creation of the State Board of Health in 1898 and the Division of Child Hygiene in 1907.39 Informal community programs and the adoption of early family health actions appear to have stimulated an early decline of infant mortality.

36 Preston and Haines argue that "lack of know-how rather than lack of resources was principally responsible for foreshortening life in the United States in the 1890s"; ibid., 209. 37 Morrell, Utah's Health andYou, 49. 38 Miriam B. Murphy, A History of Wayne County (Salt Lake City: Utah State Historical Society and Wayne County Commission, 1999), 330—34. 39 Morrell, Utah's Health andYou, 78, 92-93.

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BOOK REVIEWS Edward Abbey: A Life By James M. Cahalan (Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 2001. x v + 357 pp. $27.95.) F O R M E AT LEAST, it is a lot less easy to read Ed Abbey nowadays than it was in those innocent years before Oklahoma City and the World Trade Towers. To be sure, Abbey only advocated terrorism against property, not people, but he recognized the difficulty of keeping people completely out of it, and we have lately learned how slight a shift of logic is required to begin regarding human casualties as "collateral damage" or even the primary goal. Abbey's pessimism regarded the political process as impotent and terrorism as the only recourse for those w h o "wish to defeat the conspiracy of politicians and developers whose goal is the destruction of wilderness. But political environmentalists have had their successes as -well as their failures, and if the recent tragedies have taught us anything (if indeed we had ever forgotten it), it is that resolution of conflicts in a civilized society has t o take place through politics. H o w timely, then, is Cahalan's new Life, the first exhaustively researched and scrupulously accurate biography, for it reveals an Abbey m u c h m o r e complicated, conflicted, and contradictory than we find in his writings alone and in the cult image Abbey created for himself. It is Cahalan's thesis that Abbey constantly manipulated the facts of his life as though he were living in a selfcomposed novel and that in some ways the t r u t h b e h i n d the manipulated reality is even m o r e interesting than the Abbey image. But sometimes not. Cahalan is as fascinated as Abbey was with place names and their literary potential, and h e makes m u c h — perhaps too m u c h — o f the fact that Abbey was not born, as h e claimed, in H o m e , Pennsylvania, nor did he ever live in Wolf Hole, Arizona, nor Oracle, Arizona, though he maintained a post office box in the latter c o m m u n i t y to receive fan mail. W r i t e r s , of course, are always on the search for fresh names for characters and settings, and Abbey's attraction to such colorful place names is to be expected, but it is easy to make too much of his minor warping of reality in claiming residence in such places. After all, he was born near H o m e , Pennsylvania, and lived for years in Tucson, of which Oracle is a rural neighbor. If such literary license is part of Abbey's self-created myth of himself—and it is—then it is surely a minor transgression against history. M u c h more significant is Cahalan's exploration of the inner

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Abbey beneath the well-publicized image of the environmental terrorist w h o wrecked bulldozers building Highway 95 through San Juan County, Utah, rolled old tires into the Grand Canyon (an act whose meaning eludes even Cahalan), shot his television set with a high-powered rifle, and antagonized the grazing industry in reckless speeches. Abbey's diaries and letters, which Cahalan has read closely and interprets empathetically, reveal a man -wracked with insecurity about his literary ability and especially about his apparent incapacity to be a faithful husband and effective father. Abbey's sexual adventures, particularly after The Monkey Wrench Gang made h i m a celebrity in the mid-1970s and the lecture circuit became an o p p o r t u n i t y for multitudinous extramarital liaisons, are symptomatic of his insecurity and need for acceptance. Cahalan's tireless research reveals other complications in Abbey's personality as well. While Abbey's radical followers were dismayed at his support for immigration restriction and his apparent lack of interest in Indian rights, Cahalan points out that Abbey once edited a bilingual Spanish-English newspaper and spoke at Indian rallies. Even his publicized misogyny -was more complicated than his readers generally realized. O n the one hand, he could write a famous letter to Ms. magazine poking fun at the women's movement ("Dear Sir," it began) while on the other hand enjoying warm and supportive friendships with w o m e n writers like A n n Zwinger and Terry Tempest Williams, w h o found him tender and even genteel in his manners. In the end, Cahalan gives us an Abbey w h o was "very seriously flawed" in his personal life but -was nevertheless "a -writer of the first rank, one of the most underrated in American literature." It is his hope that " w h e n all the shouting is done about the man h i m self and his various causes, readers will return more quietly to Abbey's writings, discovering artistry and delight" (276). W h e n they do, they will find Cahalan's biography an indispensable guide. GARY TOPPING Salt Lake Community College

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Worth Their Salt, Too: More Notable but Often Unnoted Women of Utah Edited by Colleen Whitley (Logan: Utah State University Press, 2000. x + 322 pp. Cloth, $39.95; paper, $19.95.) T H I S C O L L E C T I O N M I G H T HAVE B E E N subtitled "back by popular demand," acknowledging that the editor and several of the authors have been busy on the Utah lecture circuit since the first volume was published in 1996. This very -welcome sequel introduces us to another fascinating group of w o m e n in U t a h history w h o , according to the editor, " h a d b e e n overlooked, neglected, or misrepresented in the past." T h e authors, themselves noteworthy w o m e n (and one man), have taken a variety of approaches to presenting these sixteen profiles, including autobiography, annotated interview, oral history, and traditional biographical sketches. S o m e are painstakingly researched, as reflected in notes gathered at the end of the book (the most extensive series of footnotes numbers 153, for a piece -written by a historian and archivist). Others rely on interviews, family stories, and journals. It is, as the preface to the first volume confesses, "a highly eclectic set of snapshots," yet the different styles, and even the various levels of professional polish, are appealing, inviting us to get to know these intriguing -women better. As the editor reminds us, "the defining factor of this -work is the emotional as well as the intellectual commitment of the writers"; each chapter begins with a note about the author, often revealing very personal reasons for his or her choice of subject. Thirteen of the sixteen subjects are members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints by birth or conversion; only one woman of color is featured. This focus reflects, perhaps, the LDS church's encouragement to members to keep personal journals and to write family histories, which offer an undeniable head start to biographers. (In contrast, the first edition offered a greater variety of backgrounds, including Native American, Jewish, Greek, Japanese, and African American, not to mention Park City's most notorious madam.) Still, every woman profiled is multi-dimensional, several having profound influence in multiple areas. A typical introduction (from Patricia Lyn Scott's essay on Sarah Ann Sutton Cooke, b o r n in 1808), begins, "For 34 years, [she] resided in Salt Lake City, where she taught music, acted, and became the w i d o w of Utah's first police officer killed in the line of duty. She was a recognized club woman, lecturer, and leader of women's opposition to polygamy."

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Each of these -women was or is a leader or innovator in her o w n realm. This v o l u m e includes the founders of Utah's first k i n d e r g a r t e n p r o g r a m , B Y U ' s dance d e p a r t m e n t , and U t a h ' s Christian Science movement. Some made names for themselves nationally, such as Esther Eggertson Peterson, w h o spent m u c h of her adult life on the East Coast as a consumer advocate, union organizer, and national lobbyist. Others' contributions were recognized largely within their own communities, such as Ada Duhigg, a Methodist missionary and teacher in Bingham and Copperfield, t o w n s that disappeared w i t h the expansion of the B i n g h a m Copper Mine. These portraits also serve as a history of some of Utah's venerable institutions, such as the Ladies Literary Association of Salt Lake City, organized in 1872 and still going strong. Because one of the desired results of such an undertaking is to p r o m o t e n e w w o r k in the field, the inclusion of a n u m b e r of c h a p t e r s f e a t u r i n g w o m e n of o u r o w n t i m e , still vital a n d c o n t r i b u t i n g to Utah's educational and cultural communities, reminds us of the i m p o r t a n c e of capturing the stories of our c o n t e m p o r a r i e s rather t h a n relying, years later, o n t h e often incomplete historical record. As the editor points out, "in far too many cases, n o one takes the time and effort to make such a record of themselves or of their family members." Since the preface lists a number of diverse w o m e n proposed for future profiles, perhaps we can hope for a Volume 3 of Worth Their Salt, giving voice to more of the fascinating stories lingering all around us. CYNTHIA B U C K I N G H A M Utah Humanities Council

Philo T Farnsworth: The Father of Television

By Donald G. Godfrey (Salt Lake City:

University of Utah Press, 2001. xviii + 307 pp. $30.00.) D U R I N G A R E C E N T T O U R of our nation's Capitol, with all its fine art, frescoes, and statuary, our guide explained that each state had been given permission to place in the Capitol two statues honoring famous persons from that state. Being Utah b o r n and raised, I glanced around Statuary Hall and quickly found the larger-than-life-sized statue of Brigham Young—who else? I w o n dered w h o m the other statue from Utah honored. W h a t person besides Brigham Young did Utah feel to be that important? As we passed through the Hall of Columns and the Senate/House corridor, the guide pointed out the bronze likeness of the ever-so-lean

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Philo T. Farnsworth and introduced him as "the inventor of television." This -was Utah's second honoree. Since the statue stood on a pedestal, its feet "were just about waist-high, and I could not help but notice that they -were shiny, the patina having been removed by the hands of countless passersby. I smiled, recalling a bust of Abraham Lincoln on the mezzanine of the U t a h State Capitol, its nose as b r i g h t as those shoes. Folklorist that I am, I asked a staff member the reason for the bright nose. "It is said that if you -will rub President Lincoln's nose," the staffer told me, "good luck -will come to you." "What comes to one w h o rubs the feet of Philo T. Farnsworth?" I now wondered. "Better television reception?" In his book Philo T. Farnsworth: The Father of Television, Donald G. Godfrey uses his own vast k n o w l e d g e and e x p e r i e n c e in telecommunications to put together an enlightening, professional, and perhaps definitive presentation of Farnsworth in his times. In his preface, the author proposes that the purpose of his book is not "to argue technology or to trace Farnsworth's technological developments in television," but he also recognizes that he is writing about a man married to his "work, a man whose life was his work; the two are inseparable. The story Godfrey tells is galvanized by the work ethic Farnsworth exhibited throughout his career, and ultimately the book deals mostly with the relentless cadence and drill that made up the push for excellence that drove Farnsworth to his great discoveries and dragged him through court battles, hard times, and the marketing strategies that are so much a part of big business.The man himself, however, is not fully there. It is not that Godfrey does not relate many fine accounts of Farnsworth's youthful exploits and culminating achievements; he does, and he skillfully engages the reader in the story. But laced through this narrative are numerous facts—dates, issues, patents, and laws—that are building up to one point, and that point is to be made -with authority. After presenting a factual, concise, and fast-moving history of Farnsworth's life in a very readable 187 pages, Godfrey goes on to present another thirty pages of material, c o u c h e d in eight appendices, elucidating various aspects of Farnsworth's life. All this information is thoroughly corroborated by sixty-one pages of notes and an eleven-page bibliography. Scattered throughout the book are seventy-five family photos, research notes, and technical drawings that both validate and personalize the inventor for the reader. In this -well-organized book, Godfrey has created an authoritative o n e - s t o p narrative and resource/reference -work on the life of Philo T. Farnsworth.

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The book is aimed more at an audience having an interest in technology development than at those interested in Farnsworth the man. This is not a book about the feelings and thoughts of Philo T Farnsworth as much as it is an exuberant last word in the "Farnsworth as father of television" debate. W h a t e v e r other writers may have done in their works to give Farnsworth that acclaim, Godfrey has turned the periods at the ends of those declarations into exclamation points. Self-defined and accepted as one of Utah's own, and worthy of the title "father of television," Philo T Farnsworth -will more accurately live on in the memory of Utahns and people everywhere, thanks to Godfrey's work. H. BERT JENSON Utah State University

Navajo Trading: The End of an Era By Willow Roberts Powers (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2001. xiv + 282 pp. $29.95.) NAVAJO T R A D I N G P O S T S . T h e words conjure a vision of high, wide counters worn smooth by the sliding of blankets and silver, sacks of Arbuckle coffee and flour, hardware and cloth. In the "bullpen" squats a pot-bellied stove burning juniper logs to warm the customers w h o have traveled for hours to sell their eight-foot-long sacks of wool to the white trader. The transaction about to ensue is filled with the cultural values that infuse this barter system so familiar to " T h e People." While this scene is stereotypical in the literature about trading posts, it has become that way for good reason. At the height of the trading era that started in the late 1870s, this was all a familiar practice. But it is certainly not like that today in the stores that dot the land on and off the reservation in N e w Mexico, Arizona, and Utah. W h y and how it changed is the topic and much-needed disc o u r s e p r o v i d e d by W i l l o w P o w e r s . H e r b o o k is a solidly researched sequel to the classic work of Frank McNitt's The Indian Traders, which spans the earlier era. Powers brings the reader to the twenty-first century. Navajo Trading has two parts. The first, "The Way Trading Was," establishes the historical and cultural scene of how posts operated from the traders' and Navajos' perspectives. T h e system of pawn that allowed for delayed payment, the introduction of new types of goods and technology, the impact of events such as World Wars

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I and II, the influenza epidemic (1918), and the formation (1931) of the U n i t e d Indian Traders Association (UITA) "for the perpetua t i o n and p r o t e c t i o n of h a n d m a d e Arts a n d Crafts" (75) are discussed. N e w and useful information in this section takes a broad view of the complexity of this far-flung trade system, which thrived in isolation. However, Powers's most important contribution comes in the second part, " T h e E n d of an Era." N o other author has achieved her depth of understanding of h o w this successful system came to a close over a comparatively short p e r i o d of time. A m o n g the m o s t i m p o r t a n t reasons, all of "which "were i n t e r t w i n e d , w e r e increased mobility in transportation, the activism of the 1960s and 1 9 7 0 s , t h e f o r m a t i o n of t h e legal o r g a n i z a t i o n D i n e b e i i n a N a h i i l n a B e A g a d i t a h e ( D N A ) h e a d e d by t h e firebrand Ted Mitchell, and the growth of highly competitive commercial enterprises on and off the reservation. These and o t h e r p h e n o m e n a c u l m i n a t e d in t h e F e d e r a l T r a d e C o m m i s s i o n h e a r i n g s of 1972—73, which gave rise to increasingly restrictive regulations in governing the posts. While traders continued to operate after these hearings, the pursuing D N A fostered a climate of lawsuits and "victimization" among the Navajos. Eventually, few traders desired to continue. Today, what had been a thriving institution (albeit -with a few " b u m p s " and foibles) has all but disappeared, only to resurface in the guise of convenience stores and Thriftway shopping centers. Powers's view in telling this story is balanced. Even though she was commissioned by the U I T A to write from its perspective and t h e b o o k depends heavily on trader oral histories (housed at N o r t h e r n Arizona University), there is n o feeling of unfairness in her presentation. In the concluding chapter, she recognizes that there are other views, but she has presented her material clearly and calls a "-wart a wart" without apology. W h i l e there are a few statements that could be disputed, the text is insightful and well written. There is only one baffling omission in an otherwise flawless work. Given the scope and depth of her presentation and the space allotted for topics tangential to the trading experience, I find it difficult to u n d e r s t a n d h o w the livestock r e d u c t i o n p e r i o d (1930s) can have only two to three pages spread throughout the text. For the Navajos and the traders, this was a milestone event. Loss of as m u c h as 50 percent of the herds in some areas and the adoption of the current grazing permit system had a huge impact on the Navajos and w h a t they brought to the counters of the posts. T h e loss of this way of life soon drove more and more p e o ple off the reservation and into the -wage market economy of the

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dominant society, as dependence replaced independence. W h y this fact has been downplayed—especially considering that many traders were just as disappointed with the results of reduction as the Navajos -were—is hard to understand. Still, this book is highly recommended as an important work that tells " t h e rest of t h e s t o r y " of t r a d i n g o n t h e Navajo Reservation. For the Utah reader, it contains specific information on the Oljato, Aneth, and Navajo Mountain posts.The book is well written and suitable for both a general and scholarly audience. ROBERTS. MCPHERSON College of Eastern Utah, San Juan Campus

Healing Ways: Navajo Health Care in the Twentieth Century

By Wade Davies

(Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2001. xv + 248 pp. $39.95.) U.S. I N D I A N P O L I C Y D U R I N G T H E PAST century has gone through a series of far-reaching ideological changes. From the extermination policies of the nineteenth century to the Indian N e w Deal of the 1930s to the termination policy of the 1950s and the enterprise zone strategies of recent decades, the only constant seems to have been change itself. While much of the literature discussing these changes has focused on the political and economic consequences for various tribes, Wade Davies instead examines the effect these changes had on the medical care available to the Navajo. In particular, he looks at how changing policies allowed for a greater tolerance (and even acceptance) of traditional Navajo medicine by the government medical system. Davies begins with a very brief overview of traditional Navajo medicine, which emphasizes a much more holistic and spiritual approach than Western medicine. T h e Navajos believe that the physical and psychological aspects in a person overlap (although they do n o t use these terms). As a result, an individual can manifest physical symptoms in response to a psychological conflict (such as breaking a cultural taboo) even if it is years later and the individual is not fully aware of having made the mistake. Davies divides the rest of his book into six chronologically defined chapters covering the period from 1864 to the 1990s. These chapters trace the changing medical conditions available on the extensive Navajo reservation in the Four Corners region of the Southwest. Throughout the book the author tends to focus, at least briefly, on four different groups: federal health care providers, missionary medical helpers, traditional medicine practitioners, and

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Native American Church members. Prior to 1920, the only sources the Navajos had for Western medicine "were the doctors affiliated "with the different Christian missionary efforts on the reservation. While Western medicine was often used as a tool to promote assimilation, traditional Navajo health practitioners did not completely reject it, instead viewing it as a companion to their own medical efforts. This attitude -was also largely, if passively, reciprocated by the federal government beginning with the N e w Deal. T h e years 1955—69 saw the advent of a large federal Indian Health Service presence on the reservation. Traditional medicine declined during this time as many Navajos converted to evangelical Protestant churches (which condemned the practices) or came to view the rituals as more of a social/cultural phenomenon rather than a religious one. However, despite the growing federal health care s y s t e m , m a n y Navajos g r e w i n c r e a s i n g l y f r u s t r a t e d . Complaints steadily increased about long "waits, language barriers, and culturally insensitive doctors. Changes finally started in the 1970s w h e n the tribal government began to wrestle control of the health care system away from the federal government. Another significant change occurred as increasing numbers of Navajo doctors and nurses began to work in reservation hospitals. Traditional medicine also experienced a renaissance, in part due to the efforts of the federal government to help gather and preserve information on various native practices. While this book offers a solid overview of its subject matter, it does have some drawbacks. O n e is that, due to its relatively short length, the reader never gains more than a passing knowledge about the individuals mentioned, and certain discussion threads, such as the Native American Church, tend to remain largely on the narrative periphery. T h e second is that, while Davies claims his book recounts the struggle by traditional Navajo medicine to be accepted by the federal government, the text itself seems to suggest the government never "was very hostile to traditional practices in the first place. Instead, what Davies's book really seems to be about is the struggle by the Navajo to reform a large, impersonal, and inefficient health care system, a struggle w i t h -which all Americans can readily identify. STEPHEN C. STURGEON Utah State University

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Mexican-Origin

People in the United States: A Topical History

By Oscar J.

Martinez (Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 2001. xxvii + 244 pp. Cloth, $45.00; paper, $17.95.) I N O S C A R J. M A R T I N E Z ' S N E W W O R K , Mexican-Origin People in the United States, t h e a u t h o r uses t h e rosebush as a m e t a p h o r for the history of people of Mexican descent in the U n i t e d States. T h e plant's flowers, he argues, symbolize material progress and advantages available in the e c o n o m i c colossus of El N o r t e , while the thorns epitomize the i m p e d i m e n t s to the acquisition of such benefits by Mexicanos. Like this metaphoric blossom, Martinez's w o r k flowers w i t h a myriad of advantages, although it does have a few prickly thorns. M a r t i n e z divides the w o r k into eight chapters based o n a chronological approach (primarily twentieth century) to specific topics. T h e first two chapters provide an overview of population dynamics and Mexican migration into the U n i t e d States. Chapters 3 and 4 supply a synopsis of social and cultural interaction with the majority society and detail h o w Mexicanos resisted discrimination while in many ways adapting to life in the United States. T h e next three chapters focus on labor force participation, the growth of the middle and professional classes, and political experiences. Finally, Chapter 8 provides a synopsis of the text as well as a spotlight on contemporary issues such as affirmative action and bilingual education. T h e strengths of the work are many and significant. Martinez incorporates m u c h n e w research that reveals the existence of colonias (communities) in various parts of the nation, thereby presenting Mexicans as a national, not just regional, minority group. In addition, he provides a balanced view on a variety of topics. O n e example of this is his treatment of Mexican repatriation during the Great Depression (Chapter 2), wherein he focuses b o t h on the racism and prejudice that drove between one-half and one million people of Mexican descent out of the U n i t e d States and on the obstacles they faced after their return to Mexico. Another is his handling of "the impulse toward integration" by discussing issues such as military service and intermarriage patterns in locations t h r o u g h o u t the c o u n t r y (Chapter 4). Finally, Martinez does an excellent j o b in subdividing C h a p t e r 5 into sections detailing c o n d i t i o n s and l a b o r activities in a g r i c u l t u r e , railroad w o r k , mining, and urban -work. Although loaded with blossoms, the b o o k carries some thorns. Chapter 6, which provides information on a mostly neglected sector of Mexican life in the U n i t e d States, entrepreneurship and the professional class, could have been improved by m o r e extensive

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use of the Census Bureau's Survey of M i n o r i t y - O w n e d Business Enterprise. Additionally, Martinez entitles the section dealing -with e c o n o m i c i m p r o v e m e n t a m o n g p e o p l e of M e x i c a n descent "Upward Mobility for the Fortunate." Is fortune the only (or primary) cause for a rise into middle-class or higher status? Finally, while many topics are covered in a balanced manner, the same cannot be said of bilingual education. O n this topic Martinez abandons the equilibrium he demonstrates elsewhere. Overall, however, this is a well-researched and well-written book that provides an effective tool for covering a variety of the most recent topics and themes of Mexican American history. It is a fine a d d i t i o n to t h e g r o w i n g h i s t o r i c a l l i t e r a t u r e in this important field. JORGE IBER Texas Tech University

Riding the High Wire: Aerial Tramways in the West By Robert A.Trennert (Boulder: University of Colorado, 2001. vii + 140 pp. Paper, $19.95.) D R A W I N G O N H I S E X P E R I E N C E as a m i n i n g historian, Professor R o b e r t Trennert has -written a comprehensive history of aerial tramways in -western N o r t h America, particularly those in Colorado, Utah, and the desert areas of Arizona and California. H e has written in a clear manner the story of the development and use of the aerial tramways, describing in a vivid -way the difficulties of construction and operation in the rugged mountain and desert terrains. H e explains the various phases of development and engineering as well as the advantages and disadvantages of each variation in use at the different locations. His telling of the tasks of building towers in the rugged country of the San Juan Mountains in Colorado fills the reader with awe and wonderment at the tenacity and ingenuity of the workers and engineers. While the book does not enumerate all the aerial tram-ways in western N o r t h America, it covers enough of them to show all the varieties of the early tramways and the terrain in which they were erected. Professor Trennert effectively develops his thesis that the aerial tram-way made mining operations possible under the most adverse topographical conditions. Students of mining history will find this story an invaluable tool in their studies. However, the author could have made it more interesting to the non-historian by telling some of the tales associated with aerial tramways, such as this popular one from Park City: After attending a circus in Salt

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Lake City and watching the tightrope act with Dick, her nineyear-old son, Mrs. F. W Smith was shocked to see that Dick had climbed the ladder on an eighty-foot tower and, holding on to the overhead cable, was carefully walking the three-fourths-inch cable across the 180-foot expanse between two towers of the Silver K i n g Coalition b u c k e t line. M r s . Smith was frantic b u t wise enough not to shout at Dick until he had descended. W h a t happ e n e d next remains speculation. Maybe this story is true and maybe not, but it has appeal. A true story involving one of the tramways described in the book -was told to me by Charlie Chase, w h o was manager of the mine at Silverton, Colorado, w h e n it happened. T h e tramway was built by Chase in 1929 to connect the Sunnyside M i n e to the Mayflower Mill of the S h e n a n d o a h Dives M i n i n g C o m p a n y . During the depression years of the 1930s most of the miners lived at the boardinghouse at the Sunnyside Mine. There -was n o way to get to and from the site except by the tramway. O n Saturday nights w h e n the miners -would hold dances at the boardinghouse, their wives and other ladies of Silverton, along w i t h the band members and their instruments, "would climb aboard the buckets for the airy trip to the mine. After the dance they would all ride down in the starlight. Sometimes the weather was such that they were snowed on going both directions. O n c e , the tramway stopped and they were left dangling for a short period. As Professor Trennert points out, very few of the tramways exist today. I may have been partially responsible for closing down the last one. T h e nickel mine at Riddle, Oregon, crushed the ore at the mine and sent it to the processing plant 1,500 feet below and 400 feet distant by an aerial tramway. D u e to market conditions it became necessary that the owners increase the grade of the feed to the electric furnace. As consulting metallurgist, I -was able to achieve the goal, but it became impossible to continue to use the tramway because the ore was now in the form of a slurry, which had to be transported by pipeline. T h e many pictures and drawings are a pleasure to see, and they tell much of the story. O n e of the most revealing about the conditions under -which these tramways were constructed is the picture of sixty-five mules loaded -with cable headed to a mine high in the San Juan Mountains. This book belongs in the library of every student of western mining. It shows evidence of very thorough research. It is -well documented and indexed. It might be more convenient to have all the notes on the page of the text instead of in the back, but the

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choice to use endnotes does not detract from the value of the work. FRANK W. MILLSAPS Salt Lake City

Hell or High Water: fames White's Disputed Passage through Grand 1867

Canyon,

By Eilean Adams (Logan: Utah State University Press, 2001. viii + 220 pp.

Cloth, $39.95; paper, $19.95.) D U R I N G M U C H O F T H E nineteenth century, the Colorado River flowed from known lands into terra incognita, disappearing from view into the mysterious "Big C a n y o n , " as the Grand Canyon was first called. Furthermore, the canyon was rumored to contain huge "waterfalls and even underground channels "where the river roared beyond human hearing. Considering the canyon's reputation, John Wesley Powell achieved hero status after his successful 1869 river trip through the canyon, as he and his men appeared to have done the impossible. R o b e r t Brewster Stanton knew that his 1889-90 party was not the first, but he always wanted to believe his was the second such voyage. After their trips, both Powell and Stanton emphatically declared that boating the Grand Canyon was extremely difficult and hazardous and that only skilled boatmen could be successful. Powell later rode his prominence to a leadership role in government science, culminating his career as head of both the U.S. Geological Survey and the Bureau of A m e r i c a n Ethnology. R o b e r t Brewster Stanton's two trips were basically engineering expeditions aimed at determining the feasibility of building a water-level railroad along the banks of the Colorado River. While Powell lost no men to the river itself, three men drowned on the Stanton trips. After investors declined to finance his proposed railroad, Stanton turned his attention to river history, finally compiling a two-volume opus that has been only partly published, as Colorado River Controversies. Yet what were either Powell or Stanton to make of the story of James White, who, on September 7, 1867, showed up slowly floating on a crude driftwood raft toward the small M o r m o n station of Callville, N e v a d a — o n the C o l o r a d o R i v e r below the Grand Canyon? White, w h e n pulled from the raft, was almost without clothing, terribly sunburned, emaciated from lack of food, and half crazed. After being rescued by James Ferry, Callville's mail agent, White was nursed back to a condition in which he could relate his story.

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White, a semi-literate but intelligent man, told how he had been prospecting with two other men, Charles Baker and George Strole, in the San Juan Mountains of southwest Colorado. Finding little gold, they decided to prospect along the San Juan River, which runs west past the Four Corners and into Utah, joining the Colorado in Glen Canyon. White said that the trio, riding horseback, followed the San Juan to the point where "it canyoned u p " then left the river by turning overland to the north. After traveling about fifty miles, they were attacked by Indians. Baker was shot and killed instantly; White and Strole hastily grabbed some provisions and ran into the confines of a side canyon, leaving the Indians behind to plunder the horses and supplies. White further said that he and Strole reached the Colorado River then built a raft by tying driftwood logs together with a lariat. Under a m o o n lit sky, they floated out onto a placid river. For three days, White related, the two men rode the smooth Colorado past the mouth of the San Juan River, eventually reaching rapids of intense violence. In one of the first big rapids, Strole was washed overboard and was not seen again. White then continued his now-solo voyage, clinging to his makeshift raft on down the river. H e tied himself to the raft with a fifty-foot rope so that w h e n he was repeatedly thrown into the river he could, each time, laboriously pull himself back. White recounted his harrowing 1867 trip not only to the men at Callville but also to a newsman in Hardyville, Arizona, w h o sent the story to a newspaper in Prescott, Arizona, from which it was picked up and reprinted virtually nationwide. It was a truly sensational account, attracting great interest, although most readers were probably skeptical of its veracity. Powell learned of the story and may have briefly considered hiring James White as a boatman for the 1869 trip, but he never contacted White. Still, the White story, if true, would have been evidence to Powell that the Grand Canyon contained no conjectured waterfalls or underground river channels. Powell apparently never mentioned White in his writings. Stanton, however, as an engineer-turned-historian, took great interest in determining the actual facts of the White trip. In hindsight, it is fairly obvious that Stanton refused to believe that White could possibly have floated through the Grand Canyon on a crude driftwood raft. After all, in 1889 Stanton had witnessed three men, all much better prepared than White, drown in the swirling rapids. Therefore, m o r e than a tinge of bias c o n t a m i n a t e d Stanton's inquiries into the details. Stanton researched available accounts of White's raft trip then undertook to interview W h i t e in 1907 at the latter's h o m e in Trinidad, Colorado, where W h i t e was working in the drayage

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business. Apparently, Stanton was readily able to confuse White, "who knew little about the geography of the Colorado River. N o r could W h i t e remember details of his terrifying trip, such as what the Grand Canyon looked like at various areas—a point Stanton used to discredit him. At least one man, journalist T h o m a s F. Dawson, did believe W h i t e , and in 1916 he -wrote articles in national publications affirming the story. Dawson also had one of his articles published by the United States Senate as Senate D o c u m e n t 42 in 1917. Although he must have been livid upon reading Dawson's article, Stanton's written criticism did n o t appear until 1932, w h e n his book, Colorado River Controversies, "was published. T h e b o o k has influenced river historians ever since—that is, u p until the recent publication of Adams's more authoritative analysis. In this fascinating a c c o u n t of W h i t e ' s adventures, Eilean Adams, his granddaughter, details h o w river historians have repeatedly tried to refute White's claim. Adams first exposes previous misconstructions, either inadvertent or deliberate, attributed to W h i t e and then compares his account to actual geographic features to show that he probably did just what he said he did. This book, Hell or High Water, is a lively, well-written account. W h e t h e r or not one fully believes White's story, any reader would be fascinated with Adams's search through the labyrinth of garbled accounts, prejudices, and geographical possibilities for truth about her grandfather and his incredible journey. W. L. RUSHO Salt Lake City

BOOK NOTICES The Pioneer Camp of the Saints: The 1846 and 1847 Mormon Trail four nals of Thomas Bullock Edited by Will Bagley (Logan: Utah State University Press, 2000. 400 pp. Paper, $24.95.) First published by Arthur H . Clark as the first volume in the series Kingdom in the West, this invaluable chronicle of the initial M o r m o n pioneer experience has been reissued in paperback at a more affordable price by Utah State University Press. Bullock, clerk and personal secretary to both Joseph Smith and Brigham Young,

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BOOK NOTICES

was named "Clerk of the C a m p of Israel." His was the official journal of the p i o neer trek. Oddly, William Clayton's trail guide and journal was published early and has been far more widely known, while Bullock's more detailed and interesting journals languished in the LDS Church Historical Department archives. This volume includes Bullock's account of the struggles of the "Poor C a m p " across Iowa to W i n t e r Quarters in 1846, the 1847 trek of the Brigham Young Pioneer Company to the valley of the Great Salt Lake, the early settlement efforts in the valley and the return trek of Brigham Young and a few others in the fall of that year. Footnotes help the reader relate Bullock's journal entries to modern-day locations along the trail, though one could wish the editor had been more generous in this regard.

City of Diversity: A History of Price, Utah By Ronald G.Watt (Price: Price Municipal Corporation, 2001. 232 pp. $24.95.) This richly illustrated and nicely designed b o o k about one of Utah's most interesting and, at times, infamous communities covers more than a century of history from the initial settlement in 1879 up to the present. T h e eight chronological chapters include a variety of topics and events. A m o n g the most interesting are the different religious and ethnic groups found in Price; the role of sports, music, education, social clubs, and fraternal organizations in -weaving the social fabric of the community; the impact of major -world events including the Great Depression and the world wars; J. Bracken Lee's terms as mayor from 1936 to 1948; and the establishment, preservation, and g r o w t h of C a r b o n College, which became the College of Eastern Utah in 1965.

Mormonism

Unveiled, or Life and Confession offohn

D. Lee and Brigham Young

(1877; facsimile reprint, Albuquerque: Fierra Blanca Publications, 2001. 421 pp. Paper, $17.95.) T h e title page of this facsimile pointedly reveals the book's thrust: " M o r m o n i s m Unveiled; including the remarkable life and confessions of the late M o r m o n bishop John D. Lee; (written by himself) and complete life of Brigham Young embracing a history of M o r m o n i s m from its inception down to the p r e sent time, with an exposition of the secret history, sign, symbols, and crimes of the M o r m o n church. Also a true history of the horrible b u t c h e r y k n o w n as the Mountain Meadows Massacre." As interesting as the contents are, they are here not m u c h more than a curio, for this edition lacks anything to set the "writings in a scholarly context—no current introduction, explanations, or annotations. T h e publisher's only comments are

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in a back-cover blurb suggesting that what is actually a nineteenth-century artifact is straight history to be taken at face value. The Flock By Mary Austin; afterword by Barney Nelson (1906; reprint, Reno: University of Nevada Press, 2001. 320 pp. Paper, $17.00.) Austin crafts observant descriptions of sheepherders, sheep, and landscape in a sympathetic portrayal. But as appealing as her prose is, it becomes far more than a pastoral reminiscence in the light of Nelson's astute afterword (which readers would do well to peruse before reading the main text). According to Nelson, a social, philosophical, and political statement underlies The Flock. Austin, after all, w r i t e s a b o u t i m m i g r a n t s h e e p h e r d e r s , m e n disdained by California's white majority. By showing their intelligence, skill, and cultural lifeways as well as by showing the intelligence of sheep—a metaphor, Nelson -writes, for the common people—Austin argues against class-based hierarchies. She calls for respect for the "working person. She argues, too, that the Sierra should remain primarily the province of sheepherders, actual people in relationship with the land, not the domain of tourists. The philosophy no doubt annoyed John Muir. His My First Summer in the Sierra, published in 1911, may have been his answer to The Flock, and Nelson's fascinating analysis of the two viewpoints shows Muir's arrogance toward the immigrant sheepherders. At least some recent scholarship appears to support Austin's views on the ecological value of sheepherding. But it was Muir's views that won the sympathies of the American people, w h o remember his remark that sheep are nothing but "hoofed locusts"; today, tourists, not sheep, overrun Yosemite.

Native American

Oral Traditions: Collaboration and Interpretation Edited by Larry

Evers and Barre Toelken (Logan: Utah State University Press, 2001. 264 pp. Cloth, $39.95, paper, $19.95.) Historically, the scholarly investigation of native cultures has involved an outside researcher extracting information from informants and producing from live traditions a scholarly product such as a transcription, monograph, or catalogue. In the case of oral traditions, "Gone are all of the performance parameters (voice, music, gesture), gone is the interactive audience and its participatory influence, gone is the network of indigenous-culture knowledge and belief that informs and quickens any verbal event by implication" (viii). This book points the way to different strategies. Here, Native American scholars collaborate with non-Natives in collecting and interpreting the oral traditions of their own tribes. T h e collaborations are as diverse as the tribes themselves.

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BOOK NOTICES

Mining

Frontiers of the Far West, 1848—1880

By Rodman Wilson Paul. A revised,

expanded edition by Elliott West (1963; revised ed., Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2001. xx + 340 pp. Paper, $21.95.) The original classic by Paul offered a groundbreaking look at mining as a major force in the Euro-American development of the West. An excellent supplement by Elliott West explores more deeply issues raised by a 21st-century consciousness, with chapters titled "Breaking and Building Communities," " T h e World's Convention" (about diversity), and "Worlds ofWork." In discussing work, for instance, West writes about how the economic labors of native families required the k i n d of e n v i r o n m e n t that m i n i n g and settlers destroyed. Natives had to adjust to changed realities, living "as best they could in the cracks of the new society" (258). Meanwhile, the whites altered the landscape and social systems, "oblivious to the calamity they b r o u g h t " (258—59). West explores the -working days of prospectors, placer miners, and lode miners in fascinating detail, as "well as the work of "women and children and those whose labors supported the mining economy. In the final analysis, West writes that the upheaval of mining served to magnify the values of the industrialized American culture of the time. These values impacted various groups. For instance, "Native Americans, marginalized and confined, stood as stark examples of the government's lengthening reach and its hardened insistence that people outside the mainstream be absorbed or pushed aside" (283).

The Far Southwest,

1846—1912:

A Territorial History By Howard R. Lamar (1966;

revised ed., Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2000. xviii + 526 pp. Paper, $24.95.) Lamar has focused his study of the N e w Mexico, Colorado, Utah, and Arizona territories on political aspects of the territorial system: political parties, federally appointed officials, elected territorial delegates, the territorial assembly, and probate judges. These topics, which could become dull in some hands, come to life as Lamar asks incisive questions about how politics and people shaped the territories, exploring each territory's political development in engaging narratives. His treatment of Utah Territory is balanced and insightful—and it creates a coherent story out of the complex territorial period, "with its maneuvering, controversies, and federal appointees w h o seemed to come and go almost as often as the days of the "week. T h e major addition to this revision is an excellent up-to-date bibliographic essay.

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Westward Expansion:

A History of the American Frontier; sixth edition — an

abridgement. By Ray Allen Billington and Martin Ridge (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2001. xii + 444 pp. Paper, $24.95.) This book's first sentence refers to the " T V - W e s t e r n - o r i e n t e d American of today" and his or her mistaken but "happy visions of painted Indians, gaudily-dressed hurdy-gurdy girls, [and] straight-shooting cowboys" (1). But T V "westerns did not exist in 1949, "when the original edition of the book appeared, and they hardly exist today, except in reruns. Certainly the TV-western-oriented American has all but vanished. So in what context does this b o o k belong? A revision of Billington's benchmark Turnerian-based history of the frontier, the new edition states that it does not seek to reinterpret the original material. R i d g e has greatly abridged the east-of-the-Mississippi chapters and given full attention to the sweeping history of expansion west of the Mississippi. T h e authors describe the land and its indigenous inhabitants then present chapters on the various frontiers of the West, from the Spanish-Mexican frontier to the farmers' frontier. Well-written and ambitious, the book does not avoid error. In one instance, for example, the b o o k perpetuates the myth that the M o r m o n pioneers faced a bleak Salt Lake Valley in 1947: "At their feet was a barren plain, cracked by the searing sun, dotted with a few struggling sagebrush plants" (182).

The American West Reader Edited by Walter Nugent and Martin Ridge (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1999. xvi + 335 pp. Cloth, $39.95; paper, $19.95.) Primarily intended for college classroom use, this collection of essays (and a useful timeline) also serves as a valuable resource for those interested in the West generally. Arranged chronologically, the seventeen essays, authored by a group of well-respected historians, represent more than thirty years of scholarship, exploring familiar themes while simultaneously considering n e w topics. While all have been previously published in journals running the gamut from the American Quarterly to Labor History, having them gathered together in one volume is very helpful. Also useful are the editor's introductions for each selection. Taken as a "whole, the articles in this collection raise key questions facing scholars "while exploring the diversity of the American West, the ways in "which it connected -with larger patterns, and the hold it continues to have on our imagination.

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U T A H

STATE H I S T O R I C A L

SOCIETY

Department of Community and Economic Development Division of State History

B O A R D

O F STATE

H I S T O R Y

RICHARD W SADLER, Ogden, 2003, Chair PAM MILLER, Price, 2003, Vice Chair GARY N.ANDERSON, L o g a n , 2 0 0 5 PAUL ANDERSON, Salt Lake City, 2 0 0 3 KENDALL W BROWN, P r o v o , 2 0 0 5 MAXJ. EVANS, Salt Lake City, Secretary MICHAEL W HOMER, Salt Lake City, 2 0 0 5 KIM A. HYATT, B o u n t i f u l , 2 0 0 5 JOEL C. JANETSKI, Provo, 2 0 0 5 ROSS PETERSON, L o g a n , 2 0 0 3 PAUL D.WILLIAMS, Salt Lake City, 2 0 0 3 WALLY WRIGHT, Salt Lake City, 2 0 0 5

ADMINISTRATION MAXJ. EVANS, Director WILSON G. MARTIN, Associate Director PATRICIA SMITH-MANSFIELD, Assistant Director STANFORD J. LAYTON, Managing Editor KEVIN T.JONES, State Archaeologist

T h e Utah State Historical Society was organized in 1897 by public-spirited Utahns to collect, preserve, and publish Utah and related history. Today under state sponsorship, the Society fulfills its obligations by publishing the Utah Historical Quarterly and other historical materials; collecting historic U t a h artifacts; locating, documenting, and preserving historic and prehistoric buildings and sites; and maintaining a specialized research library. Donations and gifts to the Society's programs, museum, or its library are encouraged, for only through such means can it live up to its responsibility of preserving the record of Utah's past. This publication has been funded with the assistance of a matching grant-in-aid from the National Park Service, under provisions of the National Historic Preservation Act of 1966 as amended. This program receives financial assistance for identification and preservation of historic properties under Title VI of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act of 1973. The U S. Department of the Interior prohibits unlawful discrimination on the basis of race, color, national origin, age, or handicap in its federally assisted programs. If you believe you have been discriminated against in any program, activity, or facility as described above, or if you desire further information, please write to: Office of Equal Opportunity, National Park Service, 1849 C Street, NW, Washington, D C , 20240.



HISTORICAL QUARTERLY NUMBER 3

1


U T A H HISTORICAL QUARTERLY (ISSN 0042-143X) EDITORIAL STAFF WILSON G. MARTIN, Editor STANFORDJ. LAYTON, Managing Editor KRISTEN SMART ROGERS, Associate Editor ALLAN KENT POWELL, Book Review Editor

ADVISORY BOARD OF EDITORS NOEL A. CARMACK, Hyrum, 2003 LEE ANN KREUTZER,Torrey, 2003

ROBERT S. MCPHERSON, Blanding, 2004 MIRIAM B. MURPHY, Murray, 2003 ANTONETTE CHAMBERS NOBLE, C o r a , m , 2002 JANET BURTON SEEGMILLER, Cedar City, 2002 JOHN SILLITO, Ogden, 2004 GARY TOPPING, Salt Lake City, 2002 RONALD G.W A T T , ~ Valley ~ S ~City, 2004

Utah Historical Quarterly was established in 1928 to publish articles, documents, and reviews contributing to knowledge of Utah history. The Quarterly is published four times a year by the Utah State Historical Society, 300 Rio Grande, Salt Lake City, Utah 84101. Phone (801) 533-3500 for membership and publications information. Members of the Society receive the Quarterly, Beehive History, Utah Preservation, and the bimonthly newsletter upon payment of the annual dues: individual, $25; institution, $25; student and senior citizen (age sixty-five or older), $20; sustaining, $35; patron, $50; business, $100. Manuscripts submitted for publication should be double-spaced with endnotes. Authors are encouraged to include a PC diskette with the submission. For additional information on requirements, contact the managing editor. Articles and book reviews represent the views of the authors and are not necessarily those of the Utah State Historical Society.

Periodicals postage is paid at Salt Lake City, Utah. POSTMASTER: Send address change to Utah Historical Quarterly, 300 Rio Grande,

Salt Lake City, Utah 84101.


SUMMER 2002

VOLUME 70

NUMBER3

194

IN THIS ISSUE

196

An Immigrant Story: Three Orphaned Italians in Early Utah Territory By Michael W Homer

215

Wakara Meets the Mormons, 1848-52: A Case Study in Native American Accommodation By Ronald W Walker

238

"Electricity for Everything": The Progress Company and the Electrification of Rural Salt Lake County, 1897-1924 By Judson Callaway and Su Richards

258

The Fight at Soldier Crossing, 1884: Military Considerations in Canyon Country By Robert S. McPherson and Winston B. Hurst

282

BOOK REVIEWS Maureen Trudelle. Navajo Lfeways: Contemporary Issues, Ancient Knowledge Reviewed by Nancy C. Maryboy

Eileen Hallet Stone. A Homeland in the West: UtahJews Remember Reviewed by Jeanne Abrams

Charles M.Robinson 111. General Crook and the Western Frontier Reviewed by Mark R. Grandstaff

Stanford J. Layton, ed., Being Dgerent: Stories of Utah5 Minorities Reviewed by Linda Sillitoe

Jackson J. Benson. Down by the Lemonade Springs: Essays on

Wallace Stegner Reviewed by Russell Burrows

David M. Wrobel and Patrick T. Long, eds. Seeing and Being Seen:

Tourism in the American West Reviewed by Wilson Martin

293

BOOK NOTICES

O COPYRIGHT 2002 UTAH STATE HISTORICAL SOCIETY

'


I N T H I S ISSUE

T

he basic story of Utah's "new immigrants" will be familiar to long-time readers of U t a h Historical Quarterly. These were the people who came to Utah from eastern, southern, and southeastern Europe in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries to find work in the mines, in smelters, on the railroads, and elsewhere as blue-collar workers. They came in sizeable numbers, tended to be nonMormons who settled in ethnic enclaves, and took two or three generations to integrate fully into the social mainstream. Much less common were immigrants from these more distant European ports who came as LDS converts during the pioneer period. Daniel, Antoinette, and Jacques (James)Bertoch were three such people. Converted Waldensians, these young people left Piedmont for Zion in 1854 and experienced an incredible series of adventures that have somehow escaped the attention of historians until now. Their amazing saga is detailed in our first article. Taking place at the same time were talks and negotiations between territorial leaders and the Ute leader Wakara. A complex, mercurial man, Wakara was (and continues to be) many things to many people. Historians have been fascinated by him from the beginning, and several of their portraits have graced the pages of this journal through the years. Our second article builds on previous studies by adding much new detail and insight as it focuses on the years before the Walker War. Written with sensitivity and


balance, it endows this important personality with flesh-and-blood traits never before delineated so well. Our third article has the feel of modernity as it centers on the coming of electrical power to rural Salt Lake County from the 1880s to the 1920s. The Progress Company was an important pioneer in this far-reaching technology, and its turbulent history is well told in these pages for the first time. Hard to believe-but true-electrical power had already found its way into some businesses and along city streets in Murray and Salt Lake City as cowboys, Indians, and U.S. soldiers were still engaged in Wild West-styled shootouts elsewhere in the territory. A fast-paced, confusing skirmish at Soldier Crossing in San Juan County, poorly understood by contemporary observers and variously interpreted by historians since, is finally analyzed and explained by two energetic, on-the-ground researchers in our concluding article. It is an appropriate capstone to this issue, combining with the preceding articles to illustrate the variety of experiences, personalities, circumstances, geography, values, and incidents that define Utah history and make it so interesting.

OPPOSITE: "Dinner Scene of Platueau Cow Boys," a c. 1887photo. Sam Todd, number 13, participated in and wrote about the Soldier Crossing skirmish. ON THE COVER: Tailor John I? Wright at work in his shop on Main Street in Murray. Wright exemplifies the small business owners who received electricity through the Progress Company. Note the fuse box and meter mounted above the window, the suspended incandescent lamp, and the electric pressing iron. He retained his foot-treadle sewing machine, however. Courtesy of Diana S. Johnson; all rights reserved.


An Immigrant Story: Three Orphaned Italians in Early Utah Territory By MICHAEL W. HOMER

w

illiam Mulder, a distinguished immigration historian, wrote almost fifty years ago that the immigrant story is "a source of history still unexplored, not only in Utah but in the United States at large. It is a hidden literature, a hidden history...it is a literature of the unlettered ...it is hidden in languages other than English [and] it is not in readily available form, often physically inaccessible."' More than twenty years later Mulder was still convinced that the immigrant voice remained hidden and that "in Mormon history this voice has been but faintly heard."2 Not much has changed since Mulder made these observations. Mulder, Helen Z. Papanikolas, Philip E Notarianni, and a few others have written about immigrants' expeand James riences in Utah.3 But their voices are still Danieh only occasionally heard as "sources become (0' Jacques) Be*ochr Italian immigrants to Utah. more elusive as each year passes."' Michael W. Homer is a trial lawyer living in Salt Lake City. A version of this paper was presented at the American Italian Historical Association meeting held in LasVegas in October 2001. The author wishes to thank Flora Ferrero, Mario DePillis, Matt Homer, Massimo Introvigne, and Philip E Notarianni for their comments, assistance, and inspiration.

' William Mulder, "Through Immigrant Eyes: Utah History at the Grass Roots," U t a h Historical Quarterly 22 (1954):41,45. William Mulder, "Mormon Angles of Historical Vision: Some Maverick Reflections," Journal of Mormon History 3 (1976): 13, 19. See, for instance, William Mulder, Homeward to Zion (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1957);Helen Z. Papanikolas, ed., T h e Peoples of Utah (Salt Lake City: Utah State Historical Society, 1976). Andrew E Rolle, T h e Immigrant Upraised (Norman:University of Oklahoma Press, 1968), 12.


AN IMMIGRANT STORY

Notarianni has been diligent in exposing the hidden stories of Italian Ameri~ans.~ He has described the lives of Italians who immigrated to Utah Territory between the mid-nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. At the time, Italy was overpopulated, offered few jobs for s u e d laborers, and was suffering massive crop failures. These Italians immigrated "with the ardent desire to shed their old world identity and be reborn to a new life.. .. They craved a new identity and a new life."6 In Utah, as in the West generally, Itahan immigrants were a "relatively small percentage of the total population" and "too few in number to change its Although most Italians who immigrated to Utah during culture radi~ally."~ the nineteenth century came to chase the American dream in mines and on railroads, the first group of Itahans that settled in the territory were Mormon converts who left their ancestral homes near Turin between 1854 and 1855.* They came to Utah not only because they believed that Mormonism would enrich their lives and, according to Mormon doctrine, ensure that their families would remain intact after death, but also because, like most other immigrants, they desired to join a new economic brotherhood. Mulder calls LDS converts' "break with the Old World.. .a compound fracture: a break with the old church and with the old co~ntry."~ Even though they were prepared to live among and marry immigrants from other countries and cultures, it was not always easy for them to assimilate into Utah society. It took time for their fractures, the break with the old church and the old country, to heal. They had to overcome language, cultural, and religious differences.They had even more difficulty integrating into American society and realizing its promise of greater economic opportunities. Like most immigrants, they "faced years of hard work in order to save enough money to buy improved land or a going business."1° This process was even more difficult for converts who lost their parents, became orphans, and were sent to live in inhospitable places. When Mormon missionaries arrived in Italy in June 1850, they began proselyting in Piedmont among the only indigenous Protestants on the Among Notarianni's many articles concerning the Italian immigrant experience, see Philip F. Notarianni, "Italian Fraternal Organizations in Utah, 1897-1 934," Utah Historical Quarterly 43 (1975): 172-87; "Italianiti in Utah: The Immigrant Experience," in The Peoples of Utah, 303-31; "Utah's Ellis Island: The Diflicult 'Americanization' of Carbon County," Utah Historical Quarterly 47 (1979): 17-93; "Italian Involvement in the 1903-04 Coal Miners' Strike in Southern Colorado and Utah," in George E. Pozzetta, ed., Pane e Lavoro: The Italian American Working Class (Toronto: Multicultural History Society of Ontario, 1980), 47-65; and Philip E Notarianni and Richard Raspa, "The Italian Community of Helper, Utah: Its Historic and Folkloric Past and Present," in Richard N. Juliani, ed., The Family and Community LiJe of Italian Americans (NewYork: Italian American Historical Association, 1983),23-33. Eric Hoffer, The Due Believer (reprint, NewYork: Time, 1964), 95-96. Rolle, The Immigrant Upraised,9,333. Missions opened by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS or Mormon church) in England in 1837 and in France, Scandinavia, Italy, Switzerland, and Prussia in 1850-51 produced thousands of converts who immigrated to Utah before the end of the century; see Bruce A.Van Orden, Building Zion: The Latter-day Saints in Europe (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Company, 1996). Mulder, "Through Immigrant Eyes," 47; Mulder, "Mormon Angles of HistoricalVision," 20. ' O Rolle, The Immigrant Upraised, 10.


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

Italian peninsula. The Waldensians were descendants of lay Catholic reformers who resided in Lyon, France, during the late twelfth century. These reformers lived in poverty and dedicated their lives to be witnesses for Christ, even though they were not compensated and had not received ecclesiastical approval. When their local bishop instructed them to stop preaching they refused; thereafter, the church excommunicated them and included them in its list of heretics. Not surprisingly, the group became increasingly distrustful of church authorities and began to regard themselves bound together in a separate religious community. Beginning in the thirteenth century they were driven from their urban venues and experienced a diaspora. They relocated not only in Piedmont but also in Provence, Dauphin&,Bohemia, and even in southern Italy (Calabria and Apulia). The Waldensians lived in isolated communities in each of these locations. They developed an underground culture, distinctive doctrines, and heretical rituals. In 1532 the Waldensians aligned themselves with Protestants in Switzerland and mohfied many of their historical doctrines and rituals. Thereafter they were part of a much larger target, and for the next two hundred years they were severely persecuted. Although the Reformation provided the catalyst for bringing the Waldensians in Piedmont out of their isolation, it resulted in their extinction in Germany, France, and southern Italy. They survived in Piedmont only because of their remote mountain location. After the Waldensians aligned themselves with the Reformed Church in Switzerland, their pastors began emphasizing their pre-Reformation origins and they were increasingly convinced that, because of their history of persecution, they were a chosen people.They also claimed that they could trace their origins to the primitive church because of "some idealized hypothetical antecedents of the reformed church." Although there is no reliable evidence that the Waldensians originated before the twelfth century, their history is full of examples of "real people who had suffered persecution in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries in the Alps."" Waldensians were forced to seek exile, to hide in caves, to repulse attacking government forces, and to heave large boulders from mountainsides at soldiers who advanced up their narrow valleys to destroy their villages.12

-

" See Euan Cameron, The Reformation of the Heretics: The Waldensians of the Alps, 1480-1580 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1984), 237. Other recent studies ofwaldensian history include Giorgio Tourn, You Are My Witnesses:The Waldensians across 800 Ears (Torino: Claudiana, 1990); Prescott Stephens, The Waldensian Story:A Study in Faith, Intolerance and Survival (Lewes, Sussex: Book Guild Ltd., 1998);and Gabriel Audisio, The Waldensian Dissent, Persecution and Survival, c. 1 1 70-c. 1570 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999). "The most famous caverns used by Piedmontese Waldensians for refuge during persecutions in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries were Gheisa d'la tana, located near Chanforan in the Angrogna valley, and the Bars de la Tagliola, located at the foot of the Rock of Casteluzzo. See GianVittorio Avondo and Franco Bellion, LE KlEi Pellice e Germanasca (Cuneo: L'Arciere, 1989), 102-103. See also Edward Finden, The Illustvations of the Kudois in a Series of Views (London: Charles Tilt, 1831), 31-32; and Ebenezer Henderson, The Vaudois: Comprising Observations Made during a Tour to the Valley of Piedmont, in the Summer of 1 844 (London: Snow, 1845), 115-1 6.


AN IMMIGRANT STORY

Protestant missionaries embraced the Waldensians to foster their own agendas. Anglicans believed that Waldensian claims to apostolic origins provided all Protestants a church through which they could trace an untainted priesthood back to the primitive church. Reformed Protestants, including the Calvinists in Switzerland and the Presbyterians i n England, believed that Waldensian doctrines and rituals proved that their own reformed theology was closer to primitive Christianity than Catholicism was. Other churches, including the so-called American churches-Mormons, Adventists, and Bible Students-were convinced that the Engraving of the rock of Waldensians' history of persecution, their Luuo. From this peak, LDS elder refusal to submit to papal authority, and many of their doctrines and practices demonstrated Lorenzo Snow dedicated the that an apostasy had taken place and that the itafian Waldensians had preserved many pure doctrines of the primitive church. Mormon missionary Lorenzo Snow believed that the Waldensians were "like the rose in the wilderness" and that their history of persecution had prepared them for his message." During the nineteenth century some Waldensians dissented &om their own church because they believed it had abandoned its historic mission to preach the primitive gospel. Some of these dissenters were later attracted by Snow's message. Although the group was no longer persecuted, its members lived poor and isolated lives. Mormon missionaries were struck by the extreme poverty and crowded conditions of their valleys. Hundreds ofwaldensians, out of a total population of only 20,000, were leaving their ancestral homes each year, not to escape religious persecution but to search for greater economic opportunities. Despite appalling economic conditions, the Waldensian leadership was reluctant to organize or endorse any program of emigration because it feared that members would eventually abandon their cultural and ethnic heritage if they left the valleys. Snow made several promises to encourage Waldensian investigators to join his church and emigrate to Utah Territory. He reassured the persecution-weary Piedmontese that there was no "external, or internal danger" in Utah. He also pledged to them that "we all are rich-there is no real poverty, all men-have access to the soil, the pasture, the timber, the water power, 13For accounts of Lorenzo Snow's activities as an LDS missionary, see Lorenzo Snow, The Italian Mission (London:W.Aubrey, 1851), and Eliza R. Snow Smith, Biography and Family Record of Lorenxo Snow (Salt Lake City: Deseret News Co., 1884).


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

San Germano, Val Chisone, the home village of the Bertoch family.

and all the elements of wealth without money or price." Perhaps most important, he assured them that "many thousands [of] dollars have already been donated.. .to be increased to millions" for a Perpetual Emigrating Fund to assist the poor in emigrating." By the end of 1852, thirty-six persons had converted to Mormonism, and in 1853, the most successful year of the mission, fifty-three additional people chose baptism.'' Many of the converts were farmers who were experiencing increasing difficulties raising crops because of grape disease and potato rot. In April 1853 the LDS First Presidency published its Ninth General Epistle, in which it instructed all church members to immigrate to Utah. In July the epistle appeared in the Millennia1 Star, which circulated throughout the European Mission.16The First Presidency reassured church members in Europe that the "Perpetual Emigrating Funds are in a prosperous condition," although "but a small portion is available for use this season." It also encouraged members to contribute to the fund to help "the Saints to come home.And let all who can, come without delay, and not wait to be helped by these funds, but leave them to help those who cannot help themselves.'' Finally the epistle encouraged widows to wait until they settled in Utah to be "sealed" to their dead husbands for eternity. Jean Bertoch, a sixty-year-old farmer from San Germano Chisone, was among the fifty-three Waldensians converted in 1853. He was baptized by l 4 Lorenzo Snow, La Voix deJoseph (Torino: Ferrero et Franco, 1851), 73-74.This pamphlet was translated into English, in abbreviated form, the following year; see Lorenzo Snow, T h e Voice ofJoseph (Malta: n.p., 1852), 18. l5 Concerning the Italian Mission, see Michael W. Homer, "The Italian Mission, 1850-1867," Sunstone 7 (1982): 16-21; Diane Stokoe, "The Mormon Waldensians," (M.A. thesis, Brigham Young University, December 1985); Michael W. Homer, "The Church's Image in Italy from the 1840s to 1946: A Bibliographic Essay," B Y U Studies 31 (1991): 83-114; Michael W. Homer, "Gli Italiani e i Mormoni," Renovatio 26 (1991): 79-106; Michael W Homer, "LDS Prospects in Italy for the Twenty-first Century," Dia1ogue:AJournaE ofMormon Thought 29 (1996): 139-58; Flora Ferrero, L'emigrazione valdese nello Utah nella seconda metd del1'800 (Tesa di Laurea: Universiti di Torino, 1999); Michael W. Homer, "'Like the Rose in the Wilderness': The Mormon Mission in the Kingdom of Sardinia," Mormon Historical Studies 1 (2000), 25-62; Michael W. Homer, "L'azione missionaria in Italia e nelle Valli Valdesi dei gruppi Americani 'non tradizionali' (Awentisiti, Mormoni, Testimoni di Geova)" in La Bibbia, la Coccarda e il Eicolore. I Valdesi fra due emancipaxioni, 1798-1848, a cura di Gian Paolo Romagnani (Torino: Claudiana, 2001), 505-25; and Flora Ferrero, "Dalle Valli Valdesi a1 Grande Lago Salato: Un percorso di conversione," in La Bibbia, la Coccarda e il Tricolore, ibid., 531-38. l 6 Millennia1 Star 15 (1853): 436-41.


AN IMMIGRANT STORY

Jabez Woodard, a thirty-two-year-old gardener from Peckham, England, Jean and whom mission president Lorenzo Snow chose as his succe~sor.'~ his wife Marguerite Bounous, who had died in 1840, had three sons and two daughters:Jean, Antoinette, Marguerite, Daniel, and Jacques. Jean was a landowner in the Val Chisone, where the family lived, farmed, went to school, and enjoyed some social connections. Even after his wife's death, Jean remained close to his in-laws. One brother-in-law, Jean Pierre Meynier, was the mayor of San Germano and an elder in the Waldensian church. Another brother-in-law, Daniel Vinson, was a dissenter who became alienated from the Waldensian church during a reawakening ("risvelgio") in the valleys that began during the 1830s. Jean and his five children were baptized on August 3, and twenty days later Jean was ordained an elder. The church program of immigration, described in La Voix de Joseph and reemphasized in the Ninth General Epistle, resonated with Jean Bertoch. Within a few months of his conversion and ordination,Jean took steps that he hoped would enable him and his children to leave their overcrowded valleys in Piedmont and immigrate to Utah. Jean was probably also encouraged by assurances that when he arrived in Utah he could participate in rituals that would guarantee that his wife, who had died when Jacques was still a toddler, would be sealed in marriage to him for eternity. In October Jean paid 200 lire to the Kingdom of Sardinia to secure a military deferment for his eighteen-year-old son, Daniel. Without the deferment, Daniel would have been required to enlist in the army, and he could not have left Italy for at least another two years.'' In December 1853 Bertoch sold the family's two-story home (which was also designed to shelter livestock) and the adjoining cropland, located on steep mountainsides above San Germano Chisone. Notwithstanding massive crop failures and depressed economic conditions, Bertoch sold his residence to Gioanna Bertalot for 2,200 lire, which was about the same amount he had invested in the property.19 In January 1854 Bertoch sold another field he used for farming farther upVal Chisone, in Pomaretto, for 300 lire.20Contemporary notarial records demonstrate that during the 1850s farmers continued to buy and sell property and that most departing Mormon converts could dispose of their properties for reasonable prices. Shortly after Jean sold his properties, Mormon converts began preparing to leave Piedmont and take their long journey to Utah. Although Jean wanted to emigrate with his children,Jabez Woodard asked him to remain in Italy to preside over a third church branch, which was organized in San Germano on January 7, 1854.21Jean could have paid for his children's trip

Concerning Jabez Woodard, see Jabez Woodard Journal, LDS Archives, Salt Lake City. Registro delle Insinuazioni di Pinerolo, 1853, vol. 1046,425-26,Archivio di Stato di Torino. l9 Registro delle Insinuazioni di Pinerolo, 1854, vol. 1049,477-78,Archivio di Stato diTorino. *'Registro delle Insinuazioni di San Secondo, 1854, vol. 562,157-59,Archivio di Stato di Torino. 21 Millennia1 Stay, 16 (1854):61-62. l7

l8


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

Torre Pellice, where the immigrant Waldensians boarded coaches to cross the Alps.

by using the money he received when he sold his land, but he was asked to donate a portion of the proceeds to the LDS church to sustain the Italian WALDENSES Mission. Converts from each of the mission's three branches received assistance from the Perpetual Emigrating Fund, so that no single branch would be favored over another and, perhaps most important, to ensure that the membership of no single branch would be dramatically depleted by emigration. The first group of emigrants included Barthslemy and Marianne Pons and their three children (representing the Angrogna Branch), and Philippe and Marie Cardon and their six children (representing the Saint-Barthdemy). Jean's children represented the San Germano Branch-Jean, age twenty-six; Antoinette, twenty-three; Marguerite, twenty-one; Daniel, eighteen; and Jacques, fifteen. Jabez Woodard planned to accompany the converts to England, meet his wife and three children there, and then continue to America. Jean was therefore confident that his children would be safe during the long journey to America. He sent them with the partial assistance of the Perpetual Emigrating Fund and promised them that he would join them in their new homeland the following year. O n February 8, 1854, twenty converts met in Torre Pellice to board coaches that eventually took them to Susa, a small village located at the foot of the Alps. In Susa they hired diligences, which were placed on skids and drawn by mules, to carry them up the steep Mt. Cenis Pass and across the Alps to France. After the converts had successfully crossed the Alps, the diligences were placed on wooden wheels and the group continued to Lyon, where they caught a train to Paris, and from there to Calais. In Calais they boarded a steamer that transported them to the British coast, where they took trains to London and then to Liverpool. O n March 12 they boarded the John M. Wood, which crossed the Atlantic Ocean with 397 Mormon converts from England, Denmark, France, and Italy. O n May 2, 1854,the first group of Mormon converts fiom Italy arrived in New Orleans. O n May 3 they boarded thejosiasiah Lawrence, a steamboat that transported them up the Mississippi to St. Louis. O n May 14, shortly before arriving in St. Louis, most of the church members were detained on Arsenal Island, which in 1849 had become an inspection site and a quarantined area where immigrants were examined for cholera. O n the morning theJosiah Lawrence arrived in quarantine, the Bertoch family suffered a tragic loss. Marguerite, FROM WILLIAM BEATTIE. THE

(LONDON. GEORGE VIRTUE 1838)


AN IMMIGRANT STORY

who had celebrated her twenty-first birthday shortly before leaving Italy, died of cholera in the arms of Philippe Cardon7s daughters. Eleven other converts died within a few hours and were buried with Marguerite on the island. Daniel Bertoch later called her death "one of [the] first hard trial[s] that I had to pass When they were released from quarantine, the surviving Bertoch children started on the route that Meriwether Lewis and William Clark had followed fifty years earlier in their epic journey across the American continent. The converts boarded steamships that conveyed them up the Missouri River to Westport, Missouri. Near Westport they camped at Prairie Camp, a Mormon staging area, where they prepared for the difficult overland journey across the Great Plains. While outfitting for the westward trek, Daniel took lessons "in breaking whiled fatt steers never befor having had any expirians with any kattle."23The converts remained at the staging area for several months before starting their trek to Utah during the third week in July. Daniel was assigned to the Robert L. Campbell company,24 while his siblings Jean, Jacques, and Antoinette traveled with the William A. Empey company. The companies traveled about ten miles per day during their westward trek. While traveling across the Great Plains the companies banded their 150 wagons together when they saw Native Americans in the area. But they encountered greater dangers than Indians. Daniel remembered that "our cattle never unyoked until we were out of buffalo country.We would camp early enough to feed the cattle before dark.. .. One night we had a stampede.The whole plain trembled and shook under the weight of 125 yoke of cattle running madly over the plains. In the morning we found them two or three miles from the camp. They were all together and we did not lose one." But although they successfully recovered cattle, they lost addit , camping near Fort tional converts. round the third week of ~ u ~ u swhile Kearny, Nebraska Territory, the Bertoch children were stunned when their oldest brother, Jean, died of pneumonia. BarthGlemy Pons, the father of three small children, also died about the same time.25There were other close calls for the surviving Bertoch siblings. In rnid-September, near Fort Laramie, Jacques fell from a wagon and the wheels ran over his legs. Although the boy recovered, he and his sister entered the Salt LakeValley on October 26, two days afier their company's forty-three wagons arrived, 22Biographyof Daniel Bertoch (c. 1919), copy in possession of author.There are two variations: a manuscript written in Bertoch's handwriting and a typescript written in third person. The second variant contains details that were presumably recorded from stories told by Bertoch himself. Unless otherwise noted, material about Daniel comes from this source. 23 Ibid. 24RobertL. Campbell was a twenty-nine-year-old Scottish convert from Glasgow. He was also the president of the company of LDS emigrants aboard theJohn M. Wood. 25Biographyof Daniel Bertoch. Some family accounts also claim that Jean Bertoch, Jr., was injured during the trans-oceanic journey when he fell through a hatch on the ship but that he had recovered by the time he reached New Orleans.


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

because they had wandered away from the company and become lost in the mountain^.'^ Daniel's company entered the valley on October 28. It had taken the first group of Italian immigrants nine and one-half months after leaving Torre Pellice to reach Salt Lake City. When Jacques and Antoinette arrived in Salt Lake they were introduced to Joseph Toronto, who took them to his residence on First Avenue to wait for Daniel. Daniel spent his first night in the city in a shelter "made back of a dirt wall, just north ofJohn Sharp's dwelling."The next day Daniel met Toronto, who "took me paniel] to his house where I met my brother and sister."27The Bertoch Joseph Toronto. children were among many immigrants who spent a few days in Toronto's home before being sent to a settlement in the territory. Toronto was a thirty-six-year-old convert from Sicily who had met Brigham Young in 1845 and donated $2,600 in gold to the church.Three years later, he helped driveYoung9scattle across the plains. In 1849 Young asked Toronto to travel to Italy with Lorenzo Snow to help organize the LDS mission. When Toronto returned to Utah in July 1852 he lived with Young-and even became known as "JosephYoung"-until he married a Welsh convert and built his own home on First Avenue. His residence thereafter became a halfivay house for many newly arrived imrnigrant~.'~ Brigham Young asked Toronto to supervise the Bertoches because they were not accompanied by their father. The siblings were relatively young, did not speak English, and shared an Italian connection with Toronto. Even though Toronto did not speak French, the Waldensians' primary language, he spoke Italian, which was their second language. Unlike later Italian immigrants, the converts from Piedmont did not settle together in the same communities-The Pons, Cardon, and Bertoch families were sent to separate settlements along the Wasatch Front, and, with few exceptions, they did not see each other again. Young had assigned Toronto the task of caring for his cattle herd on the Great Salt Lake's Antelope Island. The United States Army Topographical 26AndrewJenson, Latter-Day Saints Biographical Encyclopedia, 4 vols (Salt Lake City: Andrew Jenson History Co., 1901-1936), 2:462. 27 Biography of Daniel Bertoch. 28 Concerning Joseph Toronto, see James A. Toronto, "Giuseppe Efisio Taranto: Odyssey from Sicily to Salt Lake City," in Bruce A.Van Orden, D. Brent Smith, and Everett Smith,Jr., eds., Pioneers in Every Land (Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1997), 125-47, and Joseph Toronto: Italian Pioneer and Patriarch (Farmington, Utah: Toronto Family Organization, 1983).


AN IMMIGRANT STORY

Engineers, commanded by John C. Fremont and including Fremont's guide and confidante Kit Carson, had first explored the lake in September 1843.29 When Frkmont and Carson returned to the Great Salt Lake in October 1845 they explored and named Antelope I~land.~' Frkmont's accounts influenced Brigham Young's decision to settle in Salt Lake Valley and to use Antelope Island for grazing. In 1848 Young sent Lot Smith, Heber P. Kimball, and Fielding Garr to explore the island and confirm whether it was suitable for grazing. During the f d of that year, several church members set up ranches on the island and drove their cattle over the sandbar that connected it with the mainland. In 1849Young asked Garr to be his on-site foreman and to care for church cattle and other livestock on the island. In the fall of that year Garr moved church cattle to the island and built a corral and an adobe ranch house-known as "the old church housew-as a residence for his family3*In April 1850 the Topographical Engineers, under the command of Howard Stansbury, conducted a more complete exploration of the lake. Some of Stansbury's company reached the eastern shore of Antelope Island, "passing over a sandbar which unites it with the mainland," but Stansbury landed on the island "[alfter a heavy row of six hours" from the mouth of the Jordan River. The company drove its livestock from the mainland across the sandbar to the island and "placed them under the charge of the herdsman [Fielding Garr] licensed by the Mormon authorities" because the eastern slope of the island was "one of the finest ranges for horses and cattle to be found in the whole valley." Stansbury camped near springs located approximately five miles north of the land bridge while he surveyed the lake.32In September 1850 the legislature of the State of Deseret "reserved and appropriated [Antelope and Stansbury islands] for the exclusive use and benefit of [the Perpetual Emigrating] Company, for the keeping of stock." Thereafter, Antelope Island also became known as Church Island because the cattle, sheep, and horses that immigrants used to repay their debts to the Perpetual Emigrating Fund were kept on the island." 29 John C. Frkmont, Report of the Exploring Expedition to the Rocky Mountains in the Year 1842, and to Oregon and North Calfofovniain the years 1843-'44 (Washington,D.C.,: Gales and Seaton, 1845), 152-57. O n September 9,1843, Frimont and his company took boats down the Bear River and paddled on the Great Salt Lake to Disappointment Island, which Howard Stansbury later renamed Fremont Island.While on the island, FrCmont speculated that both Antelope and Stansbury islands were "connected by flats and low ridges with the mountains in the rear" but left a "more complete delineation for a future survey." 30 Milo Milton Quaife, ed., Kit Carson'sAutobiography (Lincoln:University of Nebraska Press, 1966), 89. "Dale L. Morgan, The Great Salt Lake (reprint, Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, 1995), 252. The house, kept in use as a ranch house until 1981, is Utah's oldest Anglo-built house still on its original foundation. 3 2 H o ~ a rStansbury, d Exploration and Survey of the klley of the Great Salt Lake of Utah, including a Reconnaissance of a New Route through the Rocky Mountains (Philadelphia:Lippincott, Grambo & Co., 1852), 156-65. 33Morgan, The Great Salt Lake, 251-53. Morgan writes that, although the island was technically reserved for the Perpetual Emigrating Company, some church leaders also used it for their own stock; "cattle and horses were the essential medium of exchange, for many of the Saints saw no cash from one year's end to the next."


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

The three surviving Bertoches went "to Antelope Island to work for President Young, under the direction of Mr. Toronto," four years after Stansbury completed his survey.34Those who had borrowed from the Perpetual Emigrating Fund often repaid the church by working on public works projects, and the young Bertoches were expected to labor in "redemption servitude" to repay their loan while they waited for their father.35The three did not reside at Fielding Garr's ranch but lived in a rustic shelter built by Toronto. The first winter on the island was difficult. The Bertoch siblings spoke only a few words of English and they could not communicate with anyone on the island. The boys had the duty of walking around the island every day to check the location of cattle while Antoinette remained in the cabin to perform domestic chores. Toronto brought supplies every two weeks. The three survived on flour, bran, cornmeal, squash, and "bunch grass to chew on." Daniel reminisced, "I had to go to the canyon every day for wood, which resulted in wet feet. For my shoes were so bad that I was obliged to tie them on with strings.'' He remembered, in a letter to Jacques, "our early days in Utah especially on the Church Island when we eat that big Ox.. .. Toronto said the Grando Bovo will Die we better kill him and eat him oh how toff he was I would had good teeth yet if it hadn't been for other things we did eat makes me sick to eating of that Ox and-many think about it now."36 The Bertoch siblings did not record many of their experiences on Antelope Island. Like most immigrants they were "unlettered," and they probably felt that most of their daily activities were not significant enough to record for posterity. But as Wilham Mulder has observed, "The history of Biography of Daniel Bertoch. The Perpetual Emigrating Fund Ledger confirms that the Bertoch family was initially indebted to the Perpetual Emigrating Company "for the cost of transportation of family from Liverpool to Salt Lake City" in the amount of $296.50.This was reduced by "cash paid on a/c of passages" in the amount of $169.75, leaving a balance "due the P.E.F. Co." of $126.75. Each of the five children was assessed $25.35, even though two of them died before arriving in Utah Territory. See PEF Ledger, LDS Church Archives, Salt Lake City, Utah. The Bertoch debt had been discharged when the list of those still indebted to the PEF was published in 1877; see Names of persons and suveties indebted to the Perpetual Emigrating Fund Company from 1850 to 1877 (Salt Lake City: Star Book and Job Printing Office, 1877), republished in Mormon Historical Studies 1 (Fall 2000), 141-42. For more on the PEF and indebtedness, see Scott Alan Carson, The Pevetual Emigrating Fund: Redemption Servitude and Subsidized Migration in America's Great Basin (Ph.D. diss., University of Utah, 1998). Carson notes that less than 2 percent of the immigrants who arrived in Utah during 1854-55 were farmers.The Bertoch children's obvious lack of skills meant that they needed supervision and were best suited for ranching activities. 36Biographyof James (Jacques) Bertoch (c. 1923), in possession of the author; biography of Daniel Bertoch; Daniel Bertoch to James Bertoch and Anne Cutcliff Bertoch, February 14, 1922, copy in possession of the author (emphasis added). Unless otherwise noted, material about Jacques comes from the biography of James Bertoch. During the summer prior to the Bertoches' arrival, grasshoppers had destroyed much of the crops and grazing areas in the valley and on the island. As a result, in October church leaders moved most of their cattle from the island to new range near Utah Lake. In addition, during the summer of 1854 the Great Salt Lake reached its highest elevation since the Mormons had arrived. For the next five years it was impossible to use the sand bar to reach the island. See Morgan, The Great Salt Lake, 254-55. 34

35


AN IMMIGRANT STORY

Utah, as seen through immigrant eyes, is full of significant trifles.'' Daniel's holographic memoirs demonstrate the significance of such trifles. They demonstrate the difficulties that many immigrants experienced in adjusting to their new environment. Daniel wrote that in the spring of 1855 Toronto and myself started for Salt Lake with a piece of bran bread in our pockets.We were trying to find the head of the Jordan River. We came across a large flat boat filled with water, we stayed to empty it, but before our task was done it began to get dark, so we started for the nearest light. We stayed with Mr. Keits at K7s Creek. At breakfast I was seated next to a young lady about eighteen years old, dressed in a clean calico dress. Imagine my humiliation, for I was dressed in a greasy canvas, that Toronto brought from New Orleans. Next day we went back to complete our task and a terrible storm came making it imp~ssible.~'

This storm put Daniel and his companions "in danger of our lives.. .. Toronto called to us to come into the boat, and we began to pray in English. When we finished he called on a Danish boy, and he prayed in Danish; then he asked me. I prayed in French for the first time without my prayer book. It wasn't very long before the storm quieted down and we got away safely." These experiences, which Daniel remembered throughout his life, persuaded him to leave Antelope Island. "The next day we started in quest of the Jordan River, we found it in the late afternoon. We got in our boat and traveled up the river, we camped that night at Bakers. The next day we arrived in Salt Lake and went to Toronto's. I stayed with him long enough to get a pair of shoes then I ran away."38 Daniel found Salt Lake City much busier than Antelope Island.When he realized the church was constructing a temple there he decided that he would rather help dig its foundations than continue to live and work on the island. He labored at the temple block for about six weeks before John Sharp hired him to help dig a canal from Big Cottonwood Canyon to the mouth of City Creek Canyon. Sharp furnished Daniel and his fellow workers a weekly ration of "1/2 pounds of shorts [bran and other by-products of milling], 1-1/2 pounds of flour and meat the size of a mans two fists." In the fall Daniel "went to Sharp for my money, he told me there was no money, only what we ate."39 ~ a n i e lwas - left "peeniless and without a place to stay," but he was even more distraught when he was told that same day, by a company of Mormon immigrants, that his father was dead and had been buried in Mormon Grove, Kansas. Jean Bertoch had left Italy in February 1855 with the second group of Mormon converts.40After the first group had depart37 Mulder, "Mormon Angles of HistoricalVision," 55; biography of Daniel Bertoch. Large flat-bottomed boats were used to transfer stock between the mainland and the island. 38 Biography of Daniel Bertoch. 39 Ibid. 1bid.The second group ofwaldensian emigrants included members of the Malan and Bonnet families from the Angrogna Branch; and Bertoch from the San Germano Branch. The third and last group of Italian converts left Piedmont in the fall of 1855. It included Madeleine Malan from the Angrogna Branch; members of the Rochon, Chatelain, and Beus families hom the San Germano Branch; and the Gaudin


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

ed, new convert baptisms had failed to keep pace with the number of members who wanted to immigrate to Utah, probably because Waldensian pastors became more aggressive in their opposition to Mormon missionaries. The Waldensian church also began to discuss and formulate its own program of emigration, which would eventually lead to the establishment of Waldensian communities in North and South A m e r i ~ a During .~~ the same year, the Perpetual Emigrating Fund became increasingly strained, the church became "more selective with respect to the type of migrants it assisted,"" and some Waldensians, especially those who were unskilled, found it difficult to leave for America as soon as they would have liked. Some of these returned to the Waldensian church and later settled in other locations. Jean Bertoch and fourteen other Italian converts probably followed most of the route his children had used one year earlier to journey from their ancestral villages to Liverpool. Bertoch and his group did travel to Susa in a little more comfort than the previous group had because the Kingdom of Sardinia completed its rail lines from Pinerolo to Turin in June 1854 and from Turin to Susa in May 1854.43On March 31, 1855, they boarded the ship Juventa in Liverpool. It arrived in Philadelphia on May 5 without suffering any losses. The LDS hierarchy had selected Philadelphia as its point of entry to save both the time and the lives that were often lost when converts arrived in New Orleans. From Philadelphia the Italians traveled by rail as far as Pittsburgh, where they boarded Ohio River steamships to St. Louis. There they boarded steamships that transported them up the Missouri River to Atchison, Kansas, located five miles from Mormon Grove, where they outfitted for the westward trek. During the spring and summer of 1855 "nearly 2,000 Latter-day Saints with 337 wagons" left Mormon Grove for the Great Basin. Unfortunately, many converts, including Bertoch, died of cholera in Mormon Grove and were buried in unmarked graves near the ~ a m p g r o u n d . ~ ~ Daniel was stunned by his father's death, which, ironically, occurred about the same time he ran away from Antelope Island. He decided to swallow his pride and return to the island to rejoin Jacques and Antoinette. "My brother and sister were living on the island. I felt pretty blue and alone in the world. Having run away fromToronto I hated to go back, but I did and he took me back on the island in the fall of 1855." But Daniel family from the Saint-Barthdemy Branch.This group boarded the john]. Boyd in Liverpool on December 12, 1855, and arrived in New York City on February 16, 1856. See "Emigration Records and Ship Roster,,' LDS Church Archives. 41 See George B. Watts, The Waldenses in the New World (Durham: Duke University Press, 1941).There were twenty-seven LDS baptisms among the Waldensians in 1854, another twenty-six in 1855, and only eight in 1856; see "Record of the Italian Mission," LDS Church Archives. 42 Carson, The Perpetual Emkrating Fund, 448. 4 3 L ~ i gBallatore, i Storia delle ferrovie in Piemonte, dalle origini alla vigilia della seconda guerra mondiale (Torino: Biblioteca Economia, 1996),27-37,101-103. 44 Stanley B. Gmball, Historic Sites and Markers along the Mormon and Other Great Western m ils (Urbana and Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 1988), 131-32.


AN IMMIGRANT STORY

nearly perished in a storm as he journeyed back to the island. "While in the lake a dreadful storm started. I was drifted all over and thought any minute I would be tipped over and drowned. I was very frightened so I prayed and then trusted the Lord. I was carried safely to the island and stayed at the church [probably Fielding Garr's ranch] that night. The next day I went on to my brother and sister."" When the three siblings reunited, they realized that they would have to survive in Utah without their father. Jean Bertoch's death perhaps accelerated his children's assimilation into Mormon society. During the summer of 1855 grasshoppers devastated the valley and the island even more severely than they had the previous year. The winter provided no relief. Daniel later wrote that "the winter of '55 and '56 was a hard one. The spring of 1856 was one of the hardest that the people had to pass through. Many a family had to sit down to the table and ask the blessing on the food and there was nothing but a dish of greens to be seen."46In the midst of these hardships Antoinette left the island in February 1856 to marry Louis Chapuis, a twenty-nine-year-old Frenchspeaking convert from Lausanne, Switzerland. Chapuis had met and befriended the French-speaking Bertoches two years earlier aboard theJohn M. Wood. Antoinette and her husband eventually settled in Nephi and raised four children. Her brothers had more difficulty finding patrons. But they did cultivate relationships with surrogate fathers closely connected to the church hierarchy, who promised them food and shelter in exchange for work. In the fall of 1856 Daniel "started to work for George D. and Jedediah Grant" at Mound Fort, one of four forts built during the 1850s within the present city limits of Ogden. His patrons were at the center of the Mormon Reformation, and Daniel was rebaptized in the Ogden River. Only Jacques, now eighteen, remained with Joseph Toronto. He moved from the island to Point of West Mountains (near Garfield) when Toronto, seeing that grazing conditions were better near the shore of the lake, decided to relocate his personal ranch.47In 1854 the territorial legislature had begun issuing grazing rights, not only on the islands of the Great Salt Lake but also on the lake shore from Tooele to the mouth of the Jordan River. Good grazing lands were becoming increasingly scarce because of grasshoppers and severe weather. Jacques became the foreman of the new ranch and began using "Jack Toronto" as his nickname. He lived in a oneroom rock building that he and Toronto constructed, and he used an oblong cavern known as Toronto's Cave as an additional shelter and barn.48 Like most Mormons, Daniel and Jack were seized by the events that 45Biographyof Daniel Bertoch. The Garr ranch was owned by the LDS church, and the ranch house was called the "old church house"; see Morgan, The Great Salt Lake, 252. 46 Biography of Daniel Bertoch. For more on the grasshoppers, see Morgan, The Great Salt Lake, 255. 47 Biography of Daniel Bertoch. Point ofWest Mountains eventually became known as Pleasant Green; see Francis W. Kirkham and Harold Lundstrom, eds., Tales of a Triumphant People: A History of Salt Lake County, Utah, 1847-2900 (Salt Lake City: Daughters of Utah Pioneers of Salt Lake County Company, 1947). 48 Morgan, The Great Salt Lake, 256; Kirkham and Lundstrom, eds., Tales o f a Triumphant People, 271-72;


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

The author and his son Matt in front of Toronto's Cave, where Jacques (James) Berfoch lived for a time.

briefly disrupted the territory during the winter of 1857-58. Despite assurances made in La Voix de Joseph that there were no internal -. * or external dangers In Utah, the United States Army began marching toward the territory during the summer of 1857. Brigham Young saw striking similarities between Waldensian history and the situation in Utah Territory, and he reminded church members that the Waldensians had shown courage and perseverance in defending their valleys and he encouraged his followers to do likewise. In the f d of 1857 Jack accompanied Toronto to Echo Canyon, where, as his ancestors had, he helped prepare his church's resistance to government troops. With more than two thousand other volunteers, he dug trenches across Echo Canyon, and on the has overloohng the canyon he loosened rocks that could be hurled down at the soldiers.49 Because of the oncoming federal troops, the following spring Daniel accompanied George D. Grant (Jedediah M. Grant had died the previous December), and other Mormons to the Provo River bottoms, where they remained for two months while the army passed through Salt Lake City. After the Utah War, Daniel returned to Ogden, but shortly thereafter he moved with his patrons to a ranch located near Littleton in Morgan County. Jack returned to Point of West Mountains and resumed his duties as ranch foreman. For the next ten years Daniel and Jack gradually assimilated into Mormon society. They learned to speak English, worked for their patrons, attended church, and married young British converts who had recently arrived in the territory. In 1866 Daniel married seventeen-year-old Elva Hampton, who gave birth to four children before she died in 1874. Following her death he married another British convert, eighteen-year-old Joseph Toronto, 23. Toronto's Cave is also known as Deadman's Cave because of archaeological artifacts, now deposited at the University of Utah, that were found there. In 1874 Louis Laurent Simonin, a French traveler, visited a cave near the Great Salt Lake (it is unclear, however, whether this was Toronto's Cave) where Indian artifacts had been found. Simonin was shocked to discover that one of two skulls found in the cave was being used for productions of Hamlet at the Salt Lake Theatre. He was able to obtain the skulls from Charles Savage and George Ottinger, and he gifted them to the Paris Museum. See Louis Laurent Simonin, A travers les Etats-Unis, de I'Atlantique au Pac$que (Paris: Charpentier et cie., 1875), 121-23. 19BrighamYoung, "Present and Former Persecutions of the Saints, Etc.," in Brigham Young et al., Journal of Discourses, 26 vols. (Liverpool: 1855-86), 5:342.Jacques had undoubtedly heard stories about his Waldensian ancestors who harassed troops loyal to the House of Savoy from cliffs above the road at Chiot dl'Aiga in theVal Angrogna while the troops were marching up the valley to their settlements at Pra del Torno; see Avondo and Bellion, L e m l l i Pellice e Germanasca, 99-100.


AN IMMIGRANT STORY

James Bertoch with his wife Ann C. Bertoch, six-month-old daughter Ann Elizabeth, and mother-in-law Elizabeth Hill Jones Cutcliffe in 1867.

Sarah Ann Richards, who bore five more children. In 1866Jack, who by this time preferred the name James, married nineteen-year-old Ann C ~ t c l i f f eShe . ~ ~eventually gave birth to thirteen children. Even after they married and began raising children, Daniel and James, who in 1866 were thirtyone and twenty-eight, continued to work for their patrons in exchange for subsistence in kind. Although they wanted to own their own farms, neither could afford to purchase property because their patrons did not pay wages. As long as they continued to work for room and board they did not have any realistic prospect of achieving economic independence or of enjoying "access to the soil, the pasture, the timber, the water power, and all the elements of wealth," as promised in La Voix de Joseph. When the Civil War-time Congress passed the Homestead Act in 1862, Daniel and James finally would be given an opportunity to achieve their dream of farming their own land. The Homestead Act empowered settlers who had no economic resources to obtain free land. Immigrants who had filed a declaration to become U.S. citizens could apply for patents-legal title-for as much as 160 acres of surveyed land. Applications would be approved if homesteaders could demonstrate that they had improved the land-plowed, raised crops, put up fences, dug wells, constructed ditches, built homes-and lived there for at least five years. Before passage of the Homestead Act, it was not unusual for local church leaders to distribute farmland to families who were called to settle in specific communities. These distributions were not recognized as legal conveyances until the

50 Biography of James Bertoch. According to some family accounts James helped sponsor Ann's ernigration by contributing to the Perpetual Emigrating Fund. The same sources repeat family stories that James helped rescue her company when it arrived late in November and was snowbound in the mountains.


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

United States Land Office confirmed them, however. Since the Land Office was not established in Utah until after the completion of the transcontinental railroad, territorial residents could not take advantage of the benefits of the Homestead Act until 1869." Both Daniel and James applied for homesteads almost twenty years after they arrived in the territory, on land where they had labored for patrons all of their adult lives. On October 22, 1873, Daniel filed an application for a homestead of eighty acres located in the vicinity of Littleton, Morgan County. Daniel had lived and worked in Morgan County for the Grant family since 1860. In his application he noted that he had made improvements to the land since 1862.James Ned his application for a homestead of 79.8 acres on June 20, 1874.52His homestead was located near the Toronto ranch in Point of West Mountains, also called Pleasant Green. He had worked there since 1856, and he had lived there with his wife and children for eight years. James built a house and planted crops and fruit trees on the gentle slope of the mountain that rose above the highway that ran from Salt Lake City to Tooele. The United States Land Office granted Daniel title to his homestead on October 1, 1879, and to James on March 30, 1881, afier it approved the final proofs that confirmed they had complied with all of The the requirements of the Homestead Act, including U.S. ~itizenship.~~ brothers had not applied for citizenship until they-realized they had to be U.S. citizens in order to obtain land patents under the Homestead They had lived in Utah Territory for more than twenty-five years before they became citizens and obtained their own property." The experiences of the Bertoch children demonstrate that converts who assimilated into Mormon society sometimes found it more difficult to integrate into the American economic system. The siblings emigrated from a 51Le~nard J. Arrington, Great Basin Kingdom: An Economic History of the Latter-day Saints, 183G1900 (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1966), 90-93, 249-50. Concerning the Homestead Act, see Benjamin Horace Hibbard, A History ofthe Public Land Policies, 2d ed. (Madison and Milwaukee: University ofWisconsin Press, 1965),347-85. ''Shortly afier James applied for his homestead, Joseph Toronto returned to Italy. He spent one and one-half years in Palermo during 1876-77, successfully converting fourteen friends and relatives who returned to Utah with him in 1877; seeJoseph Toronto: Italian Pioneer and Patriarch, 25-26. 53DanielBertoch filed his Application for Patent on October 22, 1873 and his Final Proof on April 5, 1879. His Application for Patent was approved on July 1, 1879. James Bertoch filed his Application for Patent on June 20, 1874, and he filed his Final Proof on October 16,1880. His Application for Patent was approved on February 12, 1881. See Homestead File 1088 (Daniel Bertoch) and Homestead File 1359 (JamesBertoch) ,National Archives, Old Military and Civil Records Branch,Washington, D.C. 54 In 1873 and 1874 Daniel and James signed affidavits filed in connection with their applications for homestead patents, in which they stated that they were United States citizens. Actually, Daniel did not become a naturalized citizen until April 28, 1879, while James did not obtain citizenship until May 4, 1878. Each brother applied for citizenship because it was a requirement under the Homestead Act. See Daniel Bertoch and James Bertoch Homestead Files, National Archives. 55 An Italian newspaper reporter interviewed some of the family members converted by James Toronto during the same year James was granted title to his homestead.They were apparently not as patient as the Bertoch brothers. They told the reporter that they were disillusioned with Utah and that they wanted to return to Italy. See L'Eco d'ltalia, January 8, 1881. Eventually, one family did return to Sicily and another moved to California. SeeJoseph Toronto: Italian Pioneer and Patriarch, 26.


AN IMMIGRANT STORY

small and isolated community in Piedmont where they had lived as part of a family unit and a religious community. They experienced a test of their cultural identity when they lost two siblings, were separated from other Italian immigrants, and lost their father. During their first two years in the territory the Bertoches were detached from society because they understood only the rudiments of English and probably even less about their newly adopted religion. Antoinette and Jacques lived in virtual isolation from Mormon society on Antelope Island. Although Daniel worked for the church in Salt Lake City during the spring and summer of 1855, he also spent most of his time on the island. Initially, the Bertoches did not assirnilate into Mormon society because they retained their cultural distinctiveness in their tiny community of three people. They continued to speak French, they prayed from their prayer books, and they remained essentially a Waldensian family. When the children left the island, separated, and gradually began losing their cultural distinctiveness, their eventual assimilation into Mormon society was assured.They no longer had daily association with persons who shared their language and customs.They began to associate with others and eventually married converts from other nationalities and cultures. They raised English-speaking children, participated in multi-cultural church meetings, and were called to church positions. But their assimilation into Mormon society did not result in their automatic integration into American society, the object of virtually every convert from Europe. Daniel and James did not achieve this second level of assimilation until Utah began its own gradual integration into the national economy and they obtained land through the Homestead Act. Thereafter, they no longer had to depend upon patrons, and they became participants in the barter system that was common in the territory. They owned land, homes, and livestock, worked as farmers, and served on boards of schools and water c ~ m p a n i e s . ~ ~ New waves of Catholic Italian immigrants to Utah at the end of the century also overcame immense obstacles as they oriented themselves to their new environment and as they struggled to enjoy the benefits of the American economy. It was usually even more difficult for them to find acceptance in some social circles because of their religious differences. But 56 In 1892 James returned to the Waldensian valleys as a Mormon missionary. Perhaps the example of Joseph Toronto, his surrogate father, who returned to Italy twice during his adult life and returned to Utah each time with relatives, was compelling for the fifty-three-year-old farmer. James and his mission companion lived in San Germano Chisone for nine months. In San Germano James was reunited with his cousins, who were prominent citizens in their small mountain town. He visited the family home that his father sold in 1854."The first day [I was in the valleys] I visited Monsieur Meynier and family, my cousins, and was well received, then I was accompanied by my cousin Meynier to my Father's place or what used to be his home which caused many a strange thoughts and feelings upon my mind, the house has not been occupied since it was sold in the year 1854.The house is in a good preserved condition, with the exception of the wood work on the outside"; mission journal of James Bertoch, June 30,1892, copy in possession of author. James corresponded with the Toronto family during his mission but, unlike his former patron, he did not convert any of his cousins. Nevertheless, a number ofwaldensians did emigrate to Utah during the same decade. See Watts, T h e Waldenses in the N e w World, 229-32.


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

they also confronted many of the same obstacles that had challenged Daniel and Jacques in their quest to achieve the American dream. They were few in number, did not speak English, and lacked economic resources. Some worked for the railroad; others became farmers or miners. They lived in temporary settlements in rudimentary shelters (shacks and boxcars instead of caves), gathered to worship, and struggled to preserve their cultural identity in a land where a hostile majority often ridiculed them. Since their numbers were small they eventually associated with, lived among, and married into the larger society. In the process they began to lose some of their cultural distinctiveness. Federal laws enacted to protect the rights of workers helped improve their lives as much as the Homestead Act had helped to liberate earlier immigrants. When James retired in 1905, he sold his homestead, which he had farmed since 1874, to J. M. Anderson, an undisclosed agent for the Utah Copper Company, a New Jersey corporation, for $6,500. Other property owners in the area, including one of Joseph Toronto's sons, also sold property to the same agent.57After Anderson quit-claimed his newly acquired interests to the Utah Copper Company, the company began to employ some of this new wave of Italian immigrants on the same property where Bertoch had lived and worked for more than fifty years. Like Bertoch, some of these Italian immigrants were protected by patrons and labored for food and ~helter.~' Before long, concentrators and mills replaced James's fields and orchards, and copper tailings gradually covered his home site. Thus, several generations of Italian workers-Mormon and Catholicworked on the land but in different ways. New generations of Utahns will continue to discover how rich and diverse the tapestry of the state really is as they discover the hidden histories of our state's immigrants. Young Italians, Greeks, Germans, Scandinavians, and members of many other ethnic groups overcame tremendous obstacles to realize some portion of the American dream. For the most part, these immigrants willingly participated in the process that eventually resulted in "their virtual ethnic dsappearance." It was a price they were willing to pay for "a new identity and a new life."59The eventual acculturation of most immigrants and their unwillingness or inability to tell their own stories, make it more difficult for succeeding generations to discover their hidden histories. But the difficulties we encounter in discovering their histories is well worth the insight we gain into the unsung fathers, mothers, brothers, and sisters who literally built this state while they chased their dreams and established new realities for themselves and their posterity. These land records are located at the Salt Lake County Recorder's Office, Salt Lake City, Utah. Some Italian laborers paid tribute to a "padrone" in exchange for employment; see Notarianni, "Italianit; in Utah," 307. Notarianni notes that a "paucity of source material may forever preclude a definitive study of the padrone system in Utah." The same is also true for the practice of Mormon patrons who offered board and room to young converts in exchange for labor on their farms and ranches. 59 Rolle, The Immigrant Upraised, 13,10. 57 58


Wakara Meets the Mormons, 1848-52: A Case Study in Native American Accommodation By RONALD W. WALKER

I

n late summer 1848, a party of several hundred Utes arrived in Salt Lake City to meet the Mormons-members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints-who had settled in the region the year before. With the Utes was their famous headman, Wakara, who had won his laurels not so much by birth or family but by ability and charisma-and because of his success in adapting to new conditions. During the next four years, these gifts were to be amply displayed, and Wakara's interaction with the Mormons may be seen as a case study in attempted cultural adaptation.What were the tests and difficulties facing an able Native American who saw the advantages of a new culture? Could these challenges be overcome? O r was the conflict of culture too great for even a man ofWakara7sinclination and ability? Of course, this article will only partly answer these questions.The historical sources, slanted toward the Euro-American point of view, are incomplete. Moreover, the first years ofWakara7sMormon relations hardly tell the full story. But what can be presented here is a largely untold account of Ute-Mormon interaction as well as informa- The Ute leader Wakaraydepicted tion that suggests that there was cooperation in a painting by Solomon and conciliation between the two peoples along with the frequently cited incidents of CaNalho' a*isf/PhotOgrapher for John C. Fremont's fifth conflict.' Wakara was born about 1815 near the expedition. Ronald Walker is a senior research associate at the Joseph Fielding Smith Institute for LDS History and professor of history at BrighamYoung University.

The best treatment ofWakaraYsculture and routine is Stephen PVan Hoak, "Waccara's Utes: Native American Equestrian Adaptations in the Eastern Great Basin," Utah Historical Quarterly 67 (Fall 1999): 309-30. Traditional and popularly written surveys of Wakara's career include Paul Bailey, Walkara, Hawk of the Mountains (Los Angeles: Westernlore Press, 1954) and Conway B. Sonne, World ofWakara (San Antonio, Texas: Naylor Company, 1962).This article owes a debt to my colleague, Dean C. Jessee, with whom I am working to create a documentary record of Mormon-Native American relations. Jessee was particularly helpful in securing some of the documents cited below. I intend this article to be the first in a two-part series dealing with the Wakara-Mormon connection.


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

Spanish Fork River in north-central Utah. It is not known when he received his name, which meant "yellow" or "brass." Some have speculated that something yellow attracted his gaze when he was a child. Or perhaps he was so charmed by the color that he wore yellow war paint, rode a flaxen horse, or dyed his clothing yellow. Some said that even his gun had a yellowish hue. However unlikely some of these possibilities are, the settlers spelled his name variously as "Wacker," "Wacarra," "Wacherr," "Wakaron," "Walkarum," "Walcher," or the spelling that whites found most familiar, "Walker."2 At thirty-six years of age Wakara weighed about 165 pounds and stood five feet, seven and one-half inches tall, about the norm for EuroAmericans of the time. His eyes were dark, his hair "black and cut short," and his complexion a "reddish olive" tint.' But beyond these physical traits, there was little unanimity in descriptions of him. One man who knew him well called him one of the shrewdest of men, "a natural man" who "read from nature's book^."^ Others saw him as personable, dignified, and fearless. However, these estimates were balanced by still other reports that used "white man" epithets: He was crafty, craven, and self-seeking, and he had an unusually large head and bandy legs5 Adding to the confusion were the man's religious feelings, which seemed to baffle observers. Known to pray five or ten minutes at a time, he might speak of prophetic dream^.^ According to one narrative, once while hunting in the Uinta country, Wakara became ill, and for more than a day his body lay lifeless. During this experience, according to lore, Wakara was told that his life was not ended; people belonging to a white race would visit him, and he must treat them kindly. As a token of the supernatural interview, he was given the new name of "Pan-a-karry Quin-ker," or Iron Twister, perhaps a suggestion of his ability to resist death.This account has at least this much plausibility: In later years, Wakara made a point of saying time and again that he never had taken the life of a white person, nor would he.7 Childhood gaze: Dirnick B. Huntington, Vocabulary ofthe Utah and Sho-Sho-Ne, or Snake, Dialects, with Indian Legends and Traditions, Including a BriefAccount ofthe L f e and Death of Wah-ker, the Indian Land Pirate (Salt Lake City, UT: Salt Lake Herald Office, 1872), 27.Appurtenances:William R. Palmer, "Pahute Indian Government and Laws," Utah Historical Quarterly 2 (April 1929): 37n. Gun: Alva and Zella Matheson, Oral Interview, 1968, p. 7, #336, Doris Duke Oral History Collection, Marriott Library, University of Utah, Salt Lake City. According to one pioneer, the chief's proper name was "Ovapah"; see LeGrand Young, "The First Pioneers and the Indians," Utah Genealogical and Historical Magazine 12 (July 1921):99. "Indian Measurements,"August 2, 1852, Indian Affairs Files, BrighamYoung Papers, Library-Archives of the Church ofJesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Salt Lake City, Utah (hereafter LDS Library-Archives). Huntington, Vocabulary ofthe Utah and Sho-Sho-Ne, 27. For a sampling of sources, see Lynn R. Bailey, Indian Slave Trade in the Southwest (Los Angeles: Westernlore Press, 1966), 150; Bailey, Walkara:Hawk of the Mountains, especially 13; A. J. McCall, Pick and Pan: Trip to the Diaings in 1849 (Bath, NewYork: Steuben Courier Printer, 1882), 60; Dan Elmer Roberts, "Parowan Ward," 12, LDS Library-Archives; Sonne, World of Wakara. "Utah Territory Militia and Nauvoo Legion Papers," March 16, 1854, reel #3, #1303, Utah State Archives, Salt Lake City; General Church Minutes, June 4, 1854, LDS Library-Archives; diary of Robert Lang Campbell, December 7,1849, LDS Library-Archives. ' Huntington, Vocabulary of the Utah and Sho-Sho-Ne, 27; Jules Remy and Julius Brenchley, AJourney to


WAKARA MEETS THE MORMONS

By heritage, Wakara was born a Tumpanawach (also called Tinpenny, Timpanogos, or Timpanogots), a branch of the Ute people that occupied some of the best land in the Great Basin, the flora- and fauna-rich eastern shoreline of Utah Lake. His father had been a minor Tumpanawach leader who, because he had refused to join a local fight, had been murdered. Wakara took his revenge by killing the perpetrators and then fled to live among the Sanpitch bands of central Utah. Using this region as his base, he assumed the new ways of the horse-mounted Utes. The horse was revolutionizing Wakara's society.When the expedition of Dominguez and Velez de Escalante came through the area in 1776, it reported seeing no horses west of the Green River. However, within several decades British and American trappers were noting "a great number of good horses."' Indeed, mountaineer Warren Ferris saw not only horses but also skillful riding. Ute horsemen "course down ...[the] steep sides [of the mountains] in pursuit of deer and elk at full speed," said Ferris, "over places where a white man would dismount and lead his h ~ r s e . " ~ Ferris's horsemen were probably Uintah or Colorado Utes. It took longer for Wakara's progenitors, more to the west, to adapt to the animal, partly because the horse was seen as a competitor for scant resources; if a horse came into the region, it was likely to be slaughtered for food. Moreover, there was the problem of caring for the animal. Wakara's father was one of the first Tumpanawach to own a horse, but it died from lack of food while tied to the corner of his dwelling.The Tumpanawach simply did not know "anything of the nature of the animal.'"o A new material culture soon developed as the Indians of central Utah adopted the horse. Bridles, bits, and saddles were some of the new gear they now used. Instead of the brush-and-pole wickiup, the mounted Indians used the warmer and transportable buffalo-skin tepee. And instead of being confined to a relatively small food-gathering range, the mounted Utes could travel extensively, enjoy better foods, and engage in wider trade. William Ashley was astonished to find the Utes he encountered carrying English-made light muskets and wearing pearl-shell ornaments that the Native Americans said had come from a distant lake." Clearly, these Great Basin Indians had expanded their horizons both geographically and in terms of their personal wants and possessions. The new horse culture allowed new economic patterns, especially the

Great Salt Lake City 2 vols. (London:W. Jeffs, 1861) 2:345-46; James Linforth, ed., Routefrom Liverpool to Great Salt Lake Wlley (London: Latter-day Saints' Book Depot, 1855), 105; and "High Priests' Minutes, 1856-1876," Salt Lake Stake,June 7,1854,122, LDS Library-Archives. Dale L. Morgan, ed., "Diary ofWilliam Ashley, March 25 to June 27, 1825," Missouri Historical Society Bulletin 11:181. Warren Angus Ferris, L$e in the Rocky Mountains, ed. LeRoy R. Hafen (Denver: Old West Publishing Company, 1983), 388. lo Linforth, ed., Routefvom Liverpool to Great Salt Lake Klley, 105. l 1 Morgan, ed., "Diary ofWilliam Ashley," 181-82.


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

trading of commodities. Items of exchange might include Ute buckskin, horses and mules, guns and ammunition, and household wares and trinkets. Another key staple was Indian "slaves," usually children or young women taken by the Utes from such weak and impoverished bands as the Paiutes of south-central Utah. These captives were then transported to New Mexico or California by the Utes themselves or by sombrero-clad, gaudilydressed "Spanish" traders, who were in fact usually New Mexicans. Technically, these "Indian slaves" were indentured servants who might be released from their servitude after several decades of service.12 Through some undocumented set of circumstances,Wakara came to personify this new Native American culture. By the late 1830s and early 1840s, his success gave him influence over the southern California trail. John C. Frkmont, who met him and his men in 1844, described his band's skill with more than a trace of admiration. "They were robbers of a higher order than those of the desert," said Frkmont. "They conducted their depredations with form, and under the color of trade and toll for passing through their country." Thus, rather than attacking caravans and killing the teamsters, these Native Americans asked for a horse or two and, to ease the pain of such taxation, sometimes gave a nominal gift in return. "You are a chief, and I am one too,"Wakara told Frkmont, suggesting the two trade gifts without calculating their respective value. Frgmont surrendered a "very fine" blanket that he had secured invancouver, while Wakara apparently reciprocated with a Mexican blanket of inferior grade." The Spanish-Mexicans of California's rancheros were less impressed with this Utah chief. These men regarded Wakara as a brigand who regularly attacked their thinly guarded herds of livestock. In fact, Wakara's raids were so successful that for a time the road along the Mojave River through Cajon Pass was known as "Walker's Trail."" However, some of the Californians' distress may have been of their own making. According to one Native American account, during Wakara's first trip to California, the caballeros had stolen the band's stock of buffdo robes and Indian children who were being offered for sale. This view claimed that Wakara's later raids were made in retribution.15 Daniel H. Wells, "Narration," Bancrofi Utah Manuscript Collection, reel 1, #36, pt. 2, p. 24; Stephen PVan Hoak, "And Who Shall Have the Children: The Indian Slave Trade in the Southern Great Basin," Nevada Historical Society Quarterly 41 (Spring 1998): 3-5; Sondra Jones, The Trial of Don Pedro Le6n Lujhn: T h e Attack against Indian Slavery and Mexican Trdders in Utah (Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, 2000), 33-40. l 3 John C. Frkmont, Report of the Exploring Expedition to the Rocky Mountains (Ann Arbor, MI: University Microfilms, 1966), 272; Erwin G. and Elisabeth K. Gudde, trans. and ed., Exploring with Frdmont: Private Diaries of Clzarles Preuss, CartographerforJohn C . Frdmont (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1958), 133. l 4 George William Beattie and Helen Pruitt Beattie, Heritage of the Valley: Sun Bernardino's First Century (Pasadena, 1939), 66. For a variation of this account, see Huntington, Vocabulary of the Utah and Sho-ShoNe, 27. "Extract from the Journal of Judge George W. Bean," in Peter Gottfredson, comp. and ed., History of Indian Depredations in Utah (Salt Lake City: Skelton Publishing Company, 1919), 22.


WAKARA MEETS THE MORMONS

By Great Basin Native American standards,Wakara's wealth and routines were opulent. His main tent was deemed "very extensive and e~cellent.'"~ His entourage included as many as 120 head of horses, a couple of dozen goats, additional sheep, cows, and oxen, and what Wakara proudly described as a "performing bull.'"' And his seasonal travel matched his accouterments. During the winter season, Wakara was often in the south, perhaps in Arizona or New Mexico or conducting one of his raids into California. Late winter found him in southern Utah, perhaps near present-day Parowan, while a few months later his band might be at the upper Sevier River, doing springtime fishing. Finally, by summer he was usually back in central Utah in the Sanpete region, still his headquarters. "He is as proud and important as any potentate that ever flourished the ensigns of royalty," said BrighamYoung.18 This, then, was the culture ofWakara when he first met the Mormons at Salt Lake City in 1848.Their meeting left the two groups seemingly favorably impressed with each other. For their part, the Mormons described their Ute visitors as "good-looking, brave and intelligent beyond any we have seen on this side of the mountain^."'^ The Utes seemed impressed, too. According to the Mormons, the visiting Native Americans "expressed a wish to become one people with us, and to live among us and we among them, and to learn to cultivate the earth and live as we do." As a first step, Wakara invited the Mormons to establish new settlements among his people so that the Utes might learn how to farm.20Whether Wakara wanted the Saints to settle near his Sanpete headquarters or in the Little Salt Lake Valley in southern Utah-or perhaps at both locations-is uncertain. In coming months, Wakara and the Mormons would discuss each of these places. Despite the outward expressions of good will and friendship, it was clear that the two people were separated by differing ideas of rectitude. One reason for the Utes' coming to Salt Lake City was to deal in horses, most of which had been taken in California raids. Although the Mormons bought many of these badly needed animals, dealing in stolen goods made them uneasy, and they sought assurance that the Indian raiding would stop. "We

'"'Life of Henry Lunt," February 6, 1853, 143, L. Tom Perry Special Collections, Harold B. Lee Library, BrighamYoung University, Provo, Utah (Lee Library). " ''Life of Henry Lunt," December 14, 1852, 124-25; John Steele to George A. Smith, November 7, 1854, George A. Smith Papers, LDS Library-Archives. '*BrighamYoung to Luke Lea,August 13, 1851, Indian Affairs Files. Also see BrighamYoung to Henry R. Day, July 2 1, 1851, Letters Received by the Office of Indian Affairs, 1824-81, Bureau of Indian Affairs (hereafter BIA), microfilm #234; Wells, "Narration," 23. For another version of Wakara's perambulations, seeVan Hoak, "Waccara's Utes," 309. l9 Parley P. Pratt to Orson Pratt, September 5, 1848, cited in Edward W. Tullidge, "History of Spanish Fork," Tullidge's Quarterly Magazine 3 (April 1884), 140. 20 Parley F .' Pratt to Orson Pratt, September 5, 1848, cited in Charles Kelly Papers, Utah State Historical Society, Salt Lake City (USHS);Journal History of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (hereafter Journal History), September 5,1848, LDS Library-Archives;Tullidge,"History of Spanish Fork," 140.


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are at peace with them," the settlers said, referring to the Spanish-Mexicans in CaliforniaS2l Wakara parried the Mormon demand. "My men hate the Spaniards, they will steal from them and I cannot help it," he reportedly said. On the other hand, "They love your people and they will not steal from you, and if any of the bad boys do, I will stop them."22 Wakara's answer was clever. While wanting Mormon good will, he also wanted to continue raiding California horses, and he attributed the raids to the "uncontrollable" men of his band. To his credit, Wakara left the parley doing what the Mormons might have described as "good works." Acting on LDS wishes that ly sent a deputation to the Shoshones seeking peace.23 A half year later, he entered the andmember of both the Mormon newly established Mormon settlement at Fort Battalion and the Parley P. praH Utah, later Provo, on unusually friendly and Southern Exploring Expedition. even intimate terms. As was his usual custom, he had come to the area to participate in Utah Lake's annual fish-run festivity, and he used the occasion to renew the amity of the previous conference held in Salt Lake City. Shaking hands with Provo settler and LDS Indian scout Dirnick Huntington, Wakara declared his heart "warm," and the two later smoked ceremonial tobacco. That evening Wakara lay in Huntington's arms around the campfire, and the Indian leader once more declared his friendship for the Mormon people. Reciprocating, Huntington explained to him the Book of Mormon, the Saints' history/scripture of the ~ a t i v American e people.24 LDS leader BrighamYoung was anxious to establish good relations with the Native American leader. He had been out of the territory when the 1848 Ute-Mormon council was held, but several days after Wakara met Huntington in Provo,Young penned him a letter. "When you see this," Young wrote, "you will learn that we want to be friends to you and will not db you or your people any hurt. We are the friends of the Indians, and we want them to be at peace with us." Also,Young had another matter to lay before the Indian leader-Young was fearful that the region's mountain and missionary to the Indians

' 52.

George A. Smith and E. T. Benson to Orson Pratt, December 20, 1848, in Millennia1 Star 11 (1849):

''Ibid. 23 24

Parley P. Pratt to Orson Pratt, September 5, 1848, Orson Pratt Papers, LDS Library-Archives. Dirnick Huntington meeting with Wakara, May 14,1849, BrighamYoung Papers.


WAKARA MEETS THE MORMONS

men, jealous of their old trading relationships with the Indians, might spread unfavorable rumors about the Mormons. "Go straight to Dimic Huntington and he will always tell you the truth,"Young told Wakara. And following up on Wakara's earlier invitation to have the Mormons establish settlements among his people,Young offered to begin this settlement process but only upon the condition that the settlers would be unmolested by local Native A m e r i ~ a n s . ~ ~ Wakara was ready to give such a pledge. The Mormons were his "father[s], mothers, brothers, and sisters," he said after meeting with Huntington and after receiving Young's letter, and he promised that his band would not meddle with the Mormon cattle, an almost irresistible lure to many impoverished Native A m e r i ~ a n sNor . ~ ~ did he want the Mormons to "throw" his people away-Wakara's plea for continuing friendship and cooperation. However, there may have been limits to his policy of sharing. While offering these assurances, he was quoted at the same time as saying that the region's "watersn-presumably the area's vital stream flows-were his."27 Even at this early stage of LDS-Native American relations, Wakara apparently sensed that his people and the settlers might compete for the region's resources and wanted no misunderstanding about the matter. These events were prelude for the second Mormon-Wakara meeting in Salt Lake City, the first between Young and Wakara. This meeting took place on June 14, 1849, near the Council House in Salt Lake City, likely at the semi-enclosed pioneer Bowery on today's Temple Square. Present were the LDS First Presidency-Young and his counselors Heber C. Kimball and Willard Richards-and half a dozen other Mormon leaders. O n the Native American side were Wakara and a dozen unnamed associate^.^^ According to Mormon historical sources, the Native American made another petition for Mormon settlements in their territory, and to encourage the plan Wakara spoke like an optimistic land agent. His land was "good," he told the Mormons. Its soil had few stones, and nearby there was an abundance of timber. Only once before had Wakara seen the land "white," or covered with snow. The area under discussion was probably Wakara's late winter campsite near present-day Parowan in southern Utah. Wakara's proposal meshed with Young's own hopes for LDS expansion, and he promptly accepted it. After the harvest had been gathered,Young promised Wakara he would dispatch settlers, and he hoped that Wakara would provide a pilot. However,Young's agenda for Mormon and Native American relations involved more than establishing a settlement. As the

" Young to Wakara, May 14,1849, BrighamYoung Papers. 26 Remarks of Alexander Williams, Church Council, May 27, 1849, Manuscript History of Brigham Young, 207, LDS Library-Archives. 27 Remarks of Dimick Huntington, Council Meeting, June 2, 1849, General Church Minutes, LDS Library-Archives.While the statements ofWilliams and Huntington appear in different LDS council meetings, it is possible that both were reporting the same interview. Meeting with Wakara and others,June 14,1849, General Church Minutes, LDS Library-Archives.


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discussion continued, Young suggested a broad-based program of Native American acculturation: the Mormons would build Wakara a house and teach members of his band how to construct such buildings; they would provide Native American children schooling in Salt Lake City; and they would provide Native Americans with grain, help them plow their fields, and give them ammunition for hunting until they learned the arts of husbandry themselves. We are "poor now," Young said expansively, "but in a few years we shall be rich [and] we will [also] trade cattle." As the discussion wore down, the Mormons traded ammunition charges for Ute buckskin, and at better terms than those offered by mountain men traders. Sealing the discussion, the Mormons distributed a gift of hats to the visiting Native Americans and provided them with "half an ox."29 Wakara apparently reacted positively to Young's suggestions. He waved aside the implications of a recent Mormon-Tumpanawach skirmish at "Battle Creek," now Pleasant Grove, Utah, which took the lives of more than a half dozen Native American men who had been poaching the white men's cattle. He also spoke optimistically of his hope that the settlers' children might live side by side with his own.There was reason for accommodation. Even before the arrival of the Mormons, game was disappearing from the Utah range (on another occasion Wakara recalled that the buffalo in Utah had once been as plentiful as the Euro-American cattle).30This decline probably was due to several factors: the climate disaster of several bad winter^;^' the more effective hunting techniques of the new horse and gun culture; and, most important, the ecological imbalance resulting from the mountaineers' invasive beaver tra~ping.'~ In short, Utah conditions were changing, and Wakara knew it. It seemed a good time to accept the advantages offered by Euro-American culture. In November 1849, about a half year afier the Young-Wakara meeting, Young took the first steps to fulfill the pledged southern Utah settlement. However, rather than a settlement party,Young dispatched fifty-two explorers led by Mormon apostle Parley P. Pratt with the commission to search '' Ibid. 30 Linforth, ed., Route from Liverpool to Great Salt Lake Valley, 105.Also see "Indian Measurements" and BrighamYoung to Captain Walker,June 13, 1854, Indian Affairs File; Dale L. Morgan, The Great Salt Lake (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, Bison Book Printing, 1975), 110; and Gudde and Gudde, trans. and ed., Exploring with Frdmont, 86. 31 See M. R. Hovey, "An Early History of Cache County," Bancroft Utah Manuscript Collection, reel #7, #5, pp. 3-4; "Indian Tribes and Their Dealing with the Mormons," Treasures of Pioneer History, comp. Kate B. Carter, 6 vols. (Salt Lake City: Daughters of Utah Pioneers, 1952-57) 4:379-80; and Richard E Burton, The City of the Saints and across the Rocky Mountains to Cal$rnia (reprint, New York: Alfied A. Knopf, 1963),57. Burton cited the severe winter of 1845-46, but by that time most of the large game had already become depopulated.Jim Bridger, always ready with a tall tale, had a variation. He said the buffalo were victims of the huge snows of 1830-31, after which the animals were rolled into the Salt Lake and were pickled for mountain eating; see Morgan, The Great Salt Lake, 110. 32 Carling I. Malouf and John M. Findlay, "Euro-American Impact Before 1870,'' in Handbook of North American Indians, vol. 11 Great Basin, ed. Warren L. D'Azevedo (Washington,D.C.: Srnithsonian Institution, 1986),506.


WAKARA MEETS THE MORMONS

out locations where LDS villages might be established-Theparty of explorers, later known as the "Southern Exploring Expedition," carried two items for Wakara: a bag of requested flour and a personal letter fromYoung. The latter, which asked Wakara's assistance with the exploration, had a tantalizing passage. By showing good conduct,Young asserted, Wakara would help "prove that we are the people, whom you have long waited, and look Apparently, like other Native American people, the Utes had a tradition of a coming, redeeming white race, which may also help to explain Wakara7s readiness to embrace white ways. The Southern Expedition did not encounter Wakara until December 7, when he and a single companion rode into a Mormon camp on the Sevier River. Wakara had dreamed of the Mormons' coming, he said, and had "lots" to trade. Nevertheless, he was less sure about serving as a guide. Several months before, Forty-niner wagons passing through the area had exposed the local Native Americans to measles. Without Euro-American natural immunity, hundreds were dying; in some cases, entire families perished after "one sleep.7734 Because of the emergency, Wakara felt that his place belonged with his people, but he assigned one of his relatives, Arnmornah or Ammon, to join the Mormon company. However, before leaving camp, Wakara "astonished" the explorers with his detailed knowledge of the countryside and by his ability to read a map that they were carr~ing.~~ Simultaneous to the activity of southern Utah exploration, the Mormons were taking steps to settle at another of Wakara's locations, the Sanpete valley of central Utah. The valley had received its name from a local band of Indians (Sampichya, Saampitch, Sanpach, San Pitch, Sanpits, or Sanpete), about whom most observers had little good to say. American trapper Warren Ferris described them as "the most miserable human beings we have ever seen.,'" They were in fact a needy and poorly clothed people. Wakara took their measure and reportedly treated them "very cruelly," almost as "slaves." But if a San Pitch man could get a horse, gun, or blanket-the essential items of the new Native American culture-he might join Wakara." Thus, Native American society was flexible and layered, with

33 Young to Wakara, with attachment to Dimick Huntington, November 22, 1849, Brigham Young Papers. 34 For this quotation and the previous one, see Journal of Robert Lang Campbell, December 7, 1849, LDS Archives. Also see Robert Lang Campbell to PresidentsYoung, Kimball, and Richards, December 25, 1849, LDS Library-Archives. 35 Journal of R . L. Campbell, December 7, 1849; diary of John Christopher Armstrong, December 1849, LDS Archives. 36 Warren Angus Ferris, L$e in the Rocky Mountains, ed. LeRoy R . Hafen (Denver: Old West Publishing Company, 1983), 345.Also The Southwest Expedition ofledediah S. Smith: His PersonalAccount ofthe Journey to CaE$ornia, 1 8 2 6 1 8 2 7 , ed. George R. Brooks (Glendale, California: Arthur H. Clark Company, 1977), 47-49; and Christian Nelson to Carl Nielsen,April 27, 1859, in Our Pioneer Heritage, ed. Kate B. Carter, 20 vols. (Salt Lake City: Daughters of Utah Pioneers, 1958-77), 11:238. Adelia Belinda Cox Sidwell, "Reminiscences of Early Days in Manti," in Manti Sentinel, August 16,


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a majority of its citizens not participating in the equestrian society of Wakara-and most failing to gain his relative affluence. About a month after the Sanpete settlers arrived, Wakara put in an appearance and camped about a mile from the Mormon fort. He "has been verry freindly," reported Sanpete leader Isaac Morley, "his sick are made well for which he is glad." However, the difficult winter of 1850-51 brought Native American cries for "Tieyup" (food), for which they were "hardly willing to take a In Wakara's case, he had the means for payment. Using Morley as his agent, he asked Mormon leaders in Salt Lake City to send him "breadstuff," along with rice ("a favorite dish with him") and whiskey, which made him "feel good." In payment, Wakara promised one of his horses.39 The terrible winter with its heavy snow resulted in the loss of most Sanpete livestock. Although the settlers themselves suffered from want of food, they seem to have shared some of their provision with the local Native Americans, a "very heavy tax upon us," said one of the pioneers." In March 1850 Morley informed Young of local conditions. He believed that the Sanpete food-sharing had the possibility of facilitating "the object of our mission," he wrote, binding the Native Americans "more closely [in] their good feelings." In fact, the Sanpete settlement, as an LDS Indian mission, seemed to be making excellent progress. "Br. Walker and some of his people express a wish to go to farming[,] raise grain[,] get houses to live in[,] and live as the Mormons do and have their women learn to cook, and work, and learn how to manage Domestic affairs. But how can this be done without feeding them for the time being, and perhaps [giving them] some little clothing to make them decent for to be in company[?]"" Because the Mormons had helped to feed and nurse the measles-stricken Native Americans, Wakara credited them with doing a major service. Otherwise the "Sandpitches would all have died,'' he reportedly said, "and many of his men to[o]."" When the canyon pass to Sanpete opened in the spring,Young sent a large provision to supplement the food already given to Wakara and his band. Credited to Wakara's account in Salt Lake City were more than 300 pounds of corn meal, 10 bushels of wheat, and 25 pounds of rice, but no whiskey.43O n that matteryoung was firm. "Big chief poung] says whiskey is not good,"Young told Morley to tell Wakara. "The council [counsel] of our Great Chief to bro Walker is not to drink [it]-&

1889, collected in the Work Projects Administration, Utah Historical Records Survey, No. 20, Sanpete County, USHS. 38 Isaac Morley to Brighamyoung, February 20,1850, BrighamYoung Papers. 39 Morley to Young, March 15,1850, BrighamYoung Papers. 40 "A Short Sketch of the Life of Andrew Purley Shumway,," reminiscent account, 17, LDS LibraryArchives. 41 Morley to Young, March 15,1850, BrighamYoung Papers. Morley to Young, February 20,1850, BrighamYoung Papers. 43 Young to Morley,April 4,1850, BrighamYoung Papers.


WAKARA MEETS THE MORMONS

pers[u]ade his friends not to drink it[,] and he will have more of the great spirit in his heart." Besides,Young had the nagging fear that the request for alcohol had come not so much from Wakara but from white settlers who wanted it for their own purposes." N o doubt Wakara considered Mormon help during the winter of 1850-5 1 as tangible proof of the Saints' friendship; previously, the relationship between the two people had been abstract and verbal. There was another test. In March 1850 Wakara arrived at Morley's tent to demand Morley's nine-month-old son, saying that he wanted the child to become a member of his family. To the Mormons, the request went beyond understanding.Yet Morley eventually released the boy. It was better to lose his child than "the whole settlement and the boy too," reasoned Morley, who felt that the success of his Indian mission and perhaps even the settlement itself was at stake. Fortunately, the episode had a happy ending. Several days after taking the chlld,Wakara returned him to Morley, but now he spoke of deepening trust between the settlers and his people. It had been, apparently, some kind of ritualized test of friendship common to Wakara's culture, which may have been repeated more than once in Sanpete's first years.45 The spring plowing at Sanpete brought more signs of cooperation. Because the severe winter had depleted the settlers' animals, only one team was reportedly fit for the task. Stepping into the breach,Wakara offered the use of one and perhaps two yoke of his oxen. The Mormons reciprocated by helping some of Wakara's men put in spring wheat? This planting undertaken by Native Americans was likely the beginning of the Sanpete Indian farm, an institution that would assume some importance in the 1 8 5 0 At ~ ~about ~ the same time, Arapeen-Wakara's brother-and Arapeen's son and daughter attended Jesse W. Fox's school, the first in the Sanpete Vdey, although it is likely that these Native Americans attended only a few sessions and were limited in their success as scholars."

44 The PDS] Presidency to Isaac Morley and the Saints in Sanpete, March 24, 1850, Brigham Young Papers. 45 The incident is reported in Richard Henrie Morley, "The Life and Contributions of Isaac Morley" (M. A. thesis, BrighamYoung University, 1965), 158-60. Hannah Morley, Isaac's wife, was understandably terrified at the prospect of losing her child; she fainted when Wakara made his demand. For a sampling of such incidents, see Mrs. Pete Hansen, oral interview, 1945, MS 44, box 4, fldr 9, Marriott Library, and Wilma Morley Despain, "His Baby Boy," in Treasures of Pioneer History, 1:150. This last account tells the story with Arapeen, not Wakara, having the central role. Of course, it is possible that these several stories were folk variations on the same incident. 46 Zetta Fugate Dewey, "Harrison Perry Fugate," in Our Pioneer Heritage, 3:114; Isaac Morley, February 20, 1850, BrighamYoung Papers; and Azariah Smith diary, July 17,1850,47, Lee Library.Also see Brigham Young, Remarks, May 19,1850, General Church Minutes, LDS Library-Archives. Relying on reports from SanpeteVdeyYoung claimed that a brother ofWakara had plowed and sowed crops and was breaking wild horses-further signs of attempted Native American acculturation. 47 Amos Reed, Acting Governor, Governor's Message, December 14, 1863, Governor's Messages, 1851-76,86, Utah State Archives.This message speaks of the farm's inefficiency during the late 1850s. 48 J. B. Maiben, "Manti," Utah Sketches of Thirty-eight Communities, Hubert H. Bancrofi Manuscript Collection, microfilm, vol. 1, #lo, 172, Lee Library.


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No sign of Native American acceptance of their culture could have pleased the Mormons more than Wakara's interest in their religion, which Morley signaled by using the appellation "Brother" when referring to the Indian leader. Then, on March 13, 1850, Wakara formally became a Mormon convert and, upon his baptism, assumed the name "A~ist."'~ During the lifetime of a Native American, he or she might receive a series of names reflecting important events or personal characteristics. In this case, the meaning omakara's choice is unknown. WhenYoung learned the news, he had instructions for both Morley and Wgkara. "We rejoice to hear that [the] spirit of the Lord is beginning to operate upon the hearts of the Lamanites,"Young wrote, using the Mormon name for Native Americans: And we pray that it may be continued unto them till they are a l l inclined to do good. The Book of Mormon might be a great blessing to Walker if he would learn to read it, & through him to ma[n]y of his kindred, and this he can do in a very short time if he will apply himself diligently by study & also by faith, and you will do well to instruct him particularly on this point. Secure his attention, & give him all the assistance you can; & also if you have the means to translate [the book] into his own lang~~age.''

Other Native Americans followed Walkara's example. After some stalwart preaching by Morley apparently aimed at convincing the local Saints of the appropriateness of baptizing the Native Americans ("Morley addressed the Saints.. .showing the duties and responsibilities that rested upon us in regard to them as a people. ... both for [their] temporal & Spiritual good"), Wakara was asked if any of his band wished baptism. The Indian leader replied that he did not know, but asked the Native Americans present the question. Thereupon, 126 were baptized and confirmed members of the LDS church, 108 men and 18 women.51 What Wakara and his fellow Native Americans understood by their baptism is of course uncertain. It is likely that most understood the religious nature of the ritual and probably believed that Mormon tradition complemented their own. It is also likely that these new "converts" saw their act as largely an expression of friendship and alliance.Whatever their understanding, the Mormons were pleased. One of the main reasons behind the establishment of the Sanpete colony was Native American redemption, and for the moment the sacrifices of Morley and his fellow colonists seemed justified by success. "We feel confident that no mission to the scattered sons of Joseph [i-e.,Native Americans] was ever attended with brighter prospects of doing good than the one in which we are engaged," Morley enthusiastically wrote Young. "The [gospel] door is opened and

Morley to Young, March 15,1850, BrighamYoung Papers. The [LDS] Presidency to Isaac Morley and the Saints in Sanpete, March 24,1850. 51 Manti Ward, Sanpete Stake, Historical Records and Minutes, 1850-53, John L. Warner, Recorder, July 7,1850, LDS Library-Archives. 49

50


WAKARA MEETS THE MORMONS

they are coming in."52 ~akara'sinfluential brother Arapeen along with more than a half dozen other Native Americans were the next to request baptism, while Wakara went farther. He sought to be ordained to the LDS priesthood, a necessary step before he could preach to his fellow tribesmen, a goal that Morley seemed to endorse. "Walker is a man of noble mind," the local church leader believed. "He has an Eagle['s] eye, nothing excapes his notice, he some times speaks of men, talking two ways, and acting two ways. Then says (bats wino) meaning no good."53 For the moment, Wakara did not seem troubled by any double-mindedness. Although several months earlier the Mormons had stirred discontent among central Utah Native Americans by harshly suppressing some Tumpanawach and Uintah bands in Utah county-the so-called "Fort Utah engagement"54-Wakara supported the Mormons' action, perhaps because he still had enemies among the Tumpanawach and partly because he understood the brutality that sometimes occurs in war. He therefore worked to defuse Native American emotions and was rumored to have personally tracked the notorious Tumpanawach raider Patsowiete to the Salt Lake Valley, where Mormon authorities put him under arrest and later executed him.55 It would be easy to make too much of these events. Indian steps toward white culture were usually halting and short-lived. It was one thing for Native Americans to understand the need to adapt, but it was quite another to break familiar patterns of behavior in accepting a new way of life. "Ammon too lazy to work like Mormons," said one ofwakara's associates. "Ammon hunt, kill deer, get buckskin, swap to Mormon."56 It was not so much a matter of indolence (although the Mormons often said so) as a resistance to the breaking of traditional cultural norms. To cite but one example, shortly after sowing their Sanpete fields, members of Wakara's band left the area and their crops to pursue their seasonal rounds. However, there was one force that ineluctably drove Wakara and his band to the Mormons, and that was economic.The Mormons were a market (for Indian goods) as well as a supplier (of Euro-American goods), and in each case the Mormons appeared to offer better prices and quantities than their mountain men rivals did.This dynamic was once more made clear when in May 1850 the handsome young Amorah arrived in Salt Lake City to announce the Utes' desire for another major trading parley. The Indians Morley to Young, April 17,1850, BrighamYoung Papers. Ibid. 54Eventsat Utah Valley are traced by Howard A. Christy, "Open Hand and Mailed Fist: MormonIndian Relations in Utah, 1847-52," Utah Historical Quarterly 46 (Summer 1978):216-35. 55 Church Historian's Office journals, April 29, 1850, LDS Library-Archives. Almost from the start of Mormon settlement in Utah County, Patsowiete had been a thorn in the Mormons' side. In addition, he was apparently a sworn enemy omakara. See Morley toYoung,April21,1850, LDS Library-Archives. 5 R e p ~ r t ein d Journal History, February 3,1851. 52

53


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"want to make an Everlasting Covt. [covenant] to be friends & for us to be friends to them,"Young explained to a church congregation in the Bowery the next day5' The proposed place and time for the trading rendezvous was the Utah Lake fish-run, andYoung was soon on the road south with supply wagons and an impressive entourage, many men in military dress. When word was received that an even larger gathering of Native Americans was expected,Young ordered from Salt Lake City additional trading supplies2,500 pounds of flour and meat as well as any article in the Mormon capital city that might be available and be of interest to Indian~.~' The parley began with Wakara and several other Native Americans presenting their LDS "recommends," written by the Sanpete clerk. These of Preliminaries continued in course attested to their Mormon member~hip.~~ Wakara's crowded tent when a stream of more than one hundred Native Americans filed in and out to shake the hands of the Mormon leaders, who were uncomfortably "squat down all round the inside."" In attendance were some of the Utes' most influential leaders: the venerable Sowiette, perhaps the most prestigious western Ute; and Carrican, Parravohoe, Orraback, and Sieuincum, representing the Yampa or western Colorado Utes. These latter Native Americans tended to be more affluent and sophisticated than their western counterparts and conscious of the difference. Despite the presence of distinguished visitors, it was Wakara who led the Native American side of the discussion. Eight of his extended family had been recently killed in a nighttime raid near the Wind River Mountains of Wyoming, perhaps by Shoshones or Bannocks, and Wakara was angry and wanted retribution ("If his folks die when hunting something to eat, all right, but he don't like them to be lulled in the nightYy6l). Although Wakara hoped his new Mormon allies might help and even intervene in his behalf, Young had no interest in becoming embroiled in the Inhans' internecine fights and urged Wakara not to "go away and be killed" by fighting the Shoshones."I understand it,"Wakara replied, without making a commitment. However, Young's primary interest was Indian assimilation. He once more offered to clothe and teach Indian youth and suggested the need for the older bandsmen to turn to cattle raising and farming. Further, with tensions rising between the Mormons and other Native Americans after the Utah County fighting,Young asked if Wakara was willing to sell his land. "[I] don't want you to buy it, but settle on it," Wakara replied, although there was some ambiguity in his feeling. "Mormons love us, we 57 General Church Minutes, 1845-56, May 19,1850. 58Y~ung to Newel K. Whitney, May 20, 1850, Copybook 1844-53, 51, BrighamYoung Papers. For Whitney's frenzied reply, seeWhitney to Young, May 21,1850,56-59, BrighamYoung Papers. 59 For detail concerning the Utah Lake parley, see Brigham Young Office Journal, Book B, Thomas Bullock's Minutes, May 18 through 24,1850, Brigham Young Papers, and Manuscript History of Brigham Young, 203, LDS Library-Archives. 60 Meeting with Wakara and others, May 22,1850, BrighamYoung Papers. " Ibid.


WAKARA MEETS THE MORMONS

love them, [but] we are hungry now, but let it rest."62 Perhaps Wakara's words were meant as a solicitation for food, another complaint about the declining resources of the region. If so,Young made no commitment to a policy of food-sharing but instead allowed the rest of the afternoon to be devoted to trading, which Young, perhaps wishing to remain aloof from such matters, delegated to Mormon merchants. That evening the Mormons regaled the Native Americans with hymn singing, which fascinated the Indians because it differed so sharply from their own atonal chants. The proceeding concluded whenYoung stood in a traditional Native American circle and preached Mormon doctrine and peace, ending with a personal display of glossolalia. When Salt Lake City physician Samuel L. Sprague also spoke in tongues, one Native American judged the expression to be S i o ~ x . ~ ' Traditionally, the Utah Lake fish run was a time of Native American revelry; dances, singing, fireside gambling, and drinking were part of the usual fare. This year some Mormons joined the good times and Elaimed "considerable bets" after a horse race between Mormon and Native American champions ended in the Saints' favor.Young was appalled and, fearing the loss of his moral authority, announced his immediate intention to return to Salt Lake City. "When the settlers, by their conduct had placed themselves on a level with the Indians,'' the official record stated, "it was useless to ask the Indians to promise to do better than the whites were doing around them."64 There is an often repeated lore among the Mormons that sometime in their early settlement history-the time and place varies with the account-Wakara tried to attack them but was stopped by Sowiette.(j5If such an event took place, it may have been soon afteryoung left the Utah Lake fish run, when Wakara, fortified by merrymaking and perhaps alcohol and upset by Young's refusal to aid his fight with the northern bands, may have turned his temporary anger on the Mormons. This much is known: Wakara left the 1850 conference determined to attack his northern

" Ibid. Wakara's claim to the land was at best unclear. Such groups as the San Pitches, Paiutes, and Pavants had long occupied and used the lands of their seasonal migrations, and while not having a EuroAmerican sense of land title, these local groups nevertheless had a "sense of occupancy" and therefore had a stronger claim than did Wakara. 63 Excerpts fromYoung's preaching: "We want you to learn to raise grain and cattle and not have to go and hunt and be exposed to other Indians, but build houses, raise grain, and be happy as we are. If any of you have esteemed us to be your enemies, it is because you have been enemies to us, and what has passed this last winter [at Fort Utah] we want forgotten and not have another occurrence, but be as friends and your children go to school and learn and always do right. We have many things to say to you when you understand them, to tell you of your forefathers, who they were, if you stay here a time and trade"; meeting with Wakara and others. 64 BrighamYoung Manuscript History, May 22 and 23,1850,35, LDS Library-Archves. See, for instance, Albert Jones, "History of Provo," Bancroft Collection of Local Utah Histories, reel 1, #lo, 56-57, Lee Library; Orson EWhitney, History of Utah, 4 vols. (Salt Lake City: George Q. Cannon and Sons, 1882), 1:431; and Edward W. Tullidge, "History of Provo City," Tullidge's Quarterly Magazine 3 (July 1884):240-41.


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

enemies, Young's pleas for peace notwithstanding. It was the first open breach between the two men. When in February 1851 Wakara approached the newly established LDS settlement of Louisa, later named Parowan, in southern Utah, he was hesitant. Twice within the last half year he had defied LDS counsel by attacking the Shoshones.WasYoung angry? Wakara had even heard rumors that Morley, still at Sanpete, wanted him killed. Uncertain of his status, Wakara sent an emissary to Louisa carrying a letter that Young earlier had written to him about Native American and Mormon friendship. Did the bond still hold?66 While the Ute-Shoshone fighting strained relations, the leader at Louisa, Apostle George A. Smith, clearly wanted the situation mended. Responding to Wakara's wary inquiry, Smith wrote a reassuring letter to Wakara and followed it several weeks later with a letter of recommendation, apparently meant for use when Wakara returned to Sanpete." In turn, Morley sent another letter to Wakara that expressed his good feeling. These gestures were sufficient to induce Wakara to meet Smith at Louisa. When he arrived, Smith gave the Native American captain a bear hug, and the two men renewed talk of Native American accommodation. Wakara once more spoke of securing a Euro-American-style house and teaching his children Mormon ways? Yet beneath his optimism, Wakara was troubled. T h e year's raids in California, led by Wakara's relative Sanpitch, had met with little success. And despite Wakara's earlier talk about being "glad" of the Mormon militia action at Fort Utah, he now admitted to a festering emotion. Some of his friends and relatives had been killed during the fight, he said, which made him "sad." When these emotions came over him, he admitted the need to "go away" to gain emotional composure." This darkening mood was also played out at Sanpete, where settlers noticed a growing imperious attitude among the Native Americans. In spring 1851 Ammon demanded a horse to carry flour to Wakara, who was then camped near Salt Lake City.Arnmon also instructed the Saints to sow Wakara's nearby field. These small irritations became threatening when, after some Native Americans were refused entry to a cabin, they burrowed a hole through its roof and showed what settlers described as "considerable hostility."As a final gesture of defiance, when the Native Americans left the site, they set the corral on fire.70When news of these events reached "Journal History, February 19, 1851. For the text of this letter, seeYoung to Wakara, May 14, 1849, BrighamYoung Papers. " George A. Smith to Wakara, February 28, 1851, George A. Smith Collection, LDS Library-Archives; George A. Smith to Whom It May Concern, March 20, 1851, George A. Smith Collection. Smith's letter of recommendation also gave favorable reference to Peeteneet, Wakara's uncle. Merlo J. Pusey, Builders of the Kingdom (Provo, UT: Brigham Young University Press, 1981), 83; Journal History, March 3 and 4,185 1. 69 George A. Smith to Brigham Young, March 25,185 1,BrighamYoung Papers. ''Manti Ward Historical Record, April 4 and May 6,185 1,LDS Archives.


WAKARA MEETS THE MORMONS

Mormon headquarters, militia commander Daniel H. Wells wrote a strongly worded warning to the region's Indians, including an explicit threat to Wakara. "If we hear of his committing depredations, upon our settlements of San Pete, Iron County, or elsewhere, to such an extent as to compel us to act in self-defence,"Wells wrote, "we shall not like it, and he may share the same fate of Pat-so-ett." The latter, of course, was the Native American whom the Mormons had shot after a brief trial in President Young's During this period of growing uncertainty in Mormon and Native American relations, both parties seemed to oscillate, reacting differently at different times. Learning that prominent chiefs Sowiette, Arapeen, Unhoquitch, and Wakara were camped beyond the Jordan River west of Salt Lake City,Young and other Mormon leaders paid them a visit. After preaching to them and finding them receptive,Young urged them to be more active in presenting the gospel message to their bandsmen and expressed the hope that the Indian leaders might baptize their followers. In order that they might do so,Young ordained Wakara to the LDS priesthood, while other Mormons performed the same rite upon Sowiette, Arapeen, and Unhoquitch. "They know the meaning of it,"Young insisted after some Mormons raised the question of whether the Indians would be able to recite the usually precise LDS baptismal prayer.72However, there is no record of any of the Native American chiefs using their newly conferred authority. Wakara himself seemed to work for better relations. Although "astonished" to learn the contents of Wells's bellicose letter, he nevertheless assured the Mormons of his desire for good relations, and to prevent further depredations he tried to move his followers to a distance from the new Mormon settlements. In August, after Morley invited members of Wakara's band to glean the Sanpete fields, Wakara declined. If allowed to do so, he explained, his men would certainly steaL7)But these forthright actions seemed to have gained Wakara little respect. A Sanpete millwright, an employee ofYoung, "kicked" some ofwakara's men out of the Sanpete mill and gave the Indian leader to understand that "I don't fear [his] whole nation."74Several weeks later, Wakara left Sanpete "in consequence of the Brethren not giving him bread stuff &c for his trying to do Nevertheless, he was soon back, his pique exchanged for a calmer deportment. " Daniel H. Wells to Peter W; Conover, June 30, 1851, Utah Territory Militia Papers, Nauvoo Legion, Utah State Archives. For Patsowiete's trial, see LDS Church Historian's Office journals,April 29, 1850. "LDS Historian's Office journals, June 9, 1851; also General Church Minutes, 1848-58, June 9, 1851, LDS Library-Archives. 73 Peter W. Conover to Daniel H. Wells, July 2, 1851, Utah Territory Militia Papers, Nauvoo Legion, Utah State Archives, and Morley toYoung,August 7,1851, BrighamYoung Papers. 74 Phineas W; Cook to Young, August 3 1,1851,BrighamYoung Papers. ''Manti Ward Historical Record, August 12,1851, LDS Library-Archives.


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

Young and the Mormons had difficulty understanding such inconsistency, as they assumed, incorrectly, that Wakara's control over his bandsmen was absolute. When Young, now superintendent of Utah's Indian affairs, sent a report to Washington in August 1851, it was full of mistrust. "This Captain Walker has obtained his power, and influence by his exploits[,] being successful in stealing,"Young wrote. WhileYoung credited Wakara for being "a good judge of property, shrewd and intelligent," he also reported that Wakara's "somewhat deceitful.. .intercourse with other Indians" had earned him the suspicion of other Native Americans. Only Wakara's consequent inability to unite the scattered bands of Utes prevented him from committing widespread depredation, Young b e l i e ~ e d . ~ W a k a rhad a gone from being a friend and ally to a potential enemy. When Wakara returned from wintering in the Colorado and perhaps Gila river basins in spring 1852, neither side appears to have wished for a rupture in relations despite the growing mistrust. "Walker has done some good," reported the southern Utah settler John D. Lee. According to Lee, the Indian leader had recently been among the Navajo, "Moquis, Pemos [Pima] and Welsh [Hopi]" Indians, who after receiving Wakara's favorable report of the Mormons had invited them to come and trade among them. Closer to LDS settlements, the Indian leader had also created "a favorable influence" among those Paiutes living beyond the Great Basin R i m in present-day southwestern Utah. Moreover, when Wakara learned that the local Paiutes had been raiding Mormon livestock near Parowan, he wrested a pony from one of the offending chiefs and perhaps would have killed the man had not the settlers intervened. If the Paiutes did not stop their "meanness,"Wakara promised to inform the "Big Captain" in Salt Lake City." Young also worked to maintain good relations. After receiving a report of Wakara's recent activity, he sent the Indian an encouraging letter ("We feel good towards you and all the Indians, and we want you to tell them all we love them"). Young's letter also sought more information about the Hopis, whose light complexion and "civilized" husbandry piqued Mormon proselytizing interest. Could these Native Americans be a more promising remnant of Israel than those Indians living closer to LDS headquarters? Finally,Young urged Wakara to continue to walk according to the constraints of the "Good Spirit" and promised a trade rendezvous later in the season at which Wakara would be presented with a suit of new clothes.78In late May, to ensure that nothing untoward might occur at the coming Utah Lake fish run,Young sent word to Utah County settlers that it was his

Young to Luke Lea, August 13,1851, BrighamYoung Papers. John D. Lee to Brighamyoung, March 13, 1852, BrighamYoung Collection, LDS Library-Archives. Also see Lee to Young, March 17,1852,Journal History. 78 Brigham Young, Heber C. Kimball, and Willard Richards to Wakara, April 9, 1852, Brigham Young Papers. Thus began a continuing Mormon interest in the Hopi; see Charles S. Peterson, "The Hopis and the Mormons: 1858-1873," Utah Historical Quarterly 39 (Spring 1971): 179-94. 76 77


WAKARA MEETS THE MORMONS

desire that "all the brethren" should treat Wakara's band kindly.79 Despite these exchanges of communication, as Wakara and his band traveled north from Parowan their mood turned increasingly surly, and it is not too ditticult to determine the reasons why.At this point, the Mormon expansion into central and southern Utah-the area of Wakara's migrations-had been limited, but even the LDS outposts at Provo (1850), Manti (1850), and Parowan (1851) had introduced strife due to the cultural differences between the two people. Euro-American agriculture and Native American hunting and food gathering used the land in competing, mumaiiy exclusive ways. Second, there was a question of control; Native Americans were unwilling to cede to the Mormons the sovereignty that the Saints assumed was theirs because of the material superiority of their culture. Third, because the two groups' traditions of social behavior were so different, it was inescapable that there would be tension simply because of their proximity. However, none of these factors were as important in sowing discord as the question of trade, the lifeblood of Wakara's new way of life. Young's recent letter to Wakara had insisted that Indian trade be regularized ("You.. .have a right to trade with any body, but the United States, our Great Father the President, says white man must not trade with Indian, of course, was enforcing longstanding U.S. without our li~ense").~~Young, Inhan policy, which he, as superintendent of Indian Affairs, was obliged to carry out. In fact, in 1851 the U.S. Congress was in the process of making this point clear by extending to Utah Territory the Trade and Intercourse Act of 1834.81The application of the act had previously been unclear because at the time of its passage, Utah Territory had been part of Mexico. The enforcement of the law would put control of the Mormon-Native commerce in Young's hands and reduce Wakara's autonomy when trading with rank and file Mormons as well as non-Mormons, i.e., the mountain men traders. Wakara appears to have immediately sensed the implication, and he was quoted as saying that if the settlers at Sanpete did not trade "right," he would take countermeasures. The Sanpete official church records reported Wakara as saying that when the Sanpete men left their homes to work their fields, "he would go into our houses, take our guns and kill us While word-of-mouth rumor may have magnified Wakara's threat, there was no question that Wakara was displeased. For Wakara, these matters were not theoretical abstractions; the Mormons had already moved against one of the traditional pillars of his

'Toung to Isaac Higbee, May 28,1852, BrighamYoung Papers. Brigham Young, Heber C. Kimball, and Willard Richards to Wakara, April 9, 1852, Brigham Young Papers. Francis Paul Prucha, ed., Documents of United States Indian Policy (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1975), 68-71,83-84. s2 Manti Ward Historical Record, August 15,1852.


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

economy, the New Mexican "slave trade." When Wakara had been out of the territory in October-November 1851, at least three bands of New Mexican traders had entered Utah with the intention of trading large herds of horses and mules for Indian children and women.83Although such traffic had gone on for several decades, it was the Mormons' first experience with it, and they took immediate steps to stop what they saw as a moral outrage. When one set of these traders apparently defied the Saints by trying to barter with Arapeen, the Sanpete settlers had the New Mexicans arrested and put on trial in Salt Lake City8' While the decision of the two-part legal proceeding apparently released the New Mexicans on a legal technicality (the U.S. Congress had not yet applied the Trade and Intercourse Act of 1834 to Utah) ,85 the Mormons were successful in showing their deterrnination to end the "slave" traffic, an outcome chilling both to the New Mexicans and to members ofWrakara's band. Faced with the prospect of declining prosperity and freedom of operation, Wakara was reportedly "very hostile in his feelings" when the Indian leader met Young at Payson, Utah, in late spring or early summer 1852. In Young's opinion, only the fear of Mormon counteraction prevented Wakara's "open hostility." However, trying to heal the breach, Young presented Wakara with a gift of supplies, which the Indian leader did not acknowledge. Undeterred and anxious for conciliation,Young next entered Wakara's lodge without an invitation. Accordmg to Young's account of the incident, he talked to [Wakara] whether he would reply or not, heard his complaints which altho' exceedingly unreasonable and without foundation, I expressed a willingness to redress, and inviting him to breakfast with me at my camp the ensuing morning [I] left him. He did not condescend to arise or express the least friendly feeling during my stay, but preserved the most inflexible, dignified, and reserved demeanor. He came over to my camp in the morning in accordance with my invitation, and after receiving in connection with his band a liberal supply of provision, departed I think still entertaining hostile intentions, provided he could bring it about with sufficient assistan~e.~~

When Wakara broke camp, rumors circulated that he was seeking a Shoshone alliance in order to attack the settlers. However, if that was his

Deseret News Weekly, November 15, 1851. Jones, The Eial of Don Pedro Le6n Lujhn, suggests the traders were innocent and points to Mormon inconsistency if not hypocrisy in dealing with them. However,Jones's treatment overlooks important evidence, including the New Mexicans' invitation to Native Americans to trade with them. See Isaac Morley to Brigham Young, December 9,1851, BrighamYoung Papers. 85 George Washington Bean, "Autobiography," 72, LDS Library-Archives, and Zerubbabel Snow, Information Statement, U S . v. Pedro Leon et al., February 10, 1852, First Judicial Court,Territory of Utah, in Deseret News, March 6, 1852, which declares that a second jury decided in favor of the defendants. While judicial authorities had previously waived fines against the New Mexicans, this last trial apparently restored their property that had been seized during the alleged slave bartering. Unfortunately, records for the second phase of the court case do not appear to exist, making firm conclusions about the matter difficult. 86 Young to Lea, June 8, 1852, Brigham Young Papers; capitalization and punctuation altered for readability. 83 84


WAKARA MEETS THE MORMONS

intent, nothing came of it, and when Young met the Indian leader in the summer, Wakara's "feelings [seemed] considerably modified." Once more Young presented mollifying gifts, and when Wakara visited Salt Lake City several weeks later, there was on his part "lively expression of friendship and good feeling9'-and still more gifts from the Mormons, this time "some clothing."87Young provided these details to his superiors in Washington so they might understand his policy. "A little and determined friendship properly exhibited, oft-times proves conciliatory," Young wrote in a self-congratulatory mood, "when the reverse or even a neglect to exercise a genial influence would cultivate ill feeling already engendered, and result in open confli~t."~~ Wgkara and other Ute leaders had hardly left Salt Lake City for Sanpete County when a delegation of eastern Shoshones arrived to request trade with the Mormons andyoung's help in securing peace with Wakara's band. Deeming this request "a desirable object to accomplish,"Young immediately petitioned the Utes to return for a negotiation. However, Wakara was hesitant, no doubt because of his recent raids on the Shoshones, and at first he tried to parry Young's request by inviting them to meet with him deep within his own territory in central Utah, a proposal that must have bee; out of the question to the distrusting Shoshones. However,Young was insistent, urging Wakara to return to Salt Lake City "if he wishes to do as he ought and is willing to do right and please us."89The situation became more complex when the Utes heard rumors that either Shoshone or Sioux raiders had killed twenty Utes, perhaps in the Uinta c ~ u n t r y . Was ~ ' the Shoshone invitation for peace a trap? The record is silent as to why Wakara and his fellow Utes finally decided to return to Salt Lake City, but likely, as with many human decisions, their motives mingled ideals (the wish for peace) and practicality (the desire not to offend Young).Whatever the reason, by September, Utes and Shoshones began to arrive at the territorial capital, thirty-six Ute lodges and twentysix Shoshone 1odges.Young requested that the groups camp on the city's outskirts at a discreet distance from each other. However, some of the Native Americans camped closer. Fifty Shoshones were only a few rods west of Temple Square while an equal number of Utes chose a site on Emigration Square, the Eighth Ward block about a mile to the s ~ u t h . ~ '

"Indian Measurements,"August 2, 1852, Indian Affairs Files. Young to Lea, June 8, 1852, BrighamYoung Papers. It was perhaps at this visit to Salt Lake City that Wakara allowed himself to be measured and weighed and to have his features inventoried, an act prompted by an official request from the Bureau of Indian Affairs in Washington. He was at the time "37- in[ches] round his breast; [and] 33 in[ches]round his waist." See "Indian Measurements,"August 2, 1852. 8 9 Y ~ u nto g the Commissioner of Indian Affairs, September 29, 1852, in Annual Report of the Commissioner of Indian Ayairs (Washington, D.C.: Robert Armstrong, 1852), 147;Young to Morley, August 20,1852, and August 21,1852, BrighamYoung Papers. 90 Morley toYoung,August 23,1852, BrighamYoung Papers. 91 Young, "The First Pioneers and the Indians," 98. 87


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These two groups of Native Americans were apparently charged with the negotiations. European travelers Jules Remy and Julius Brenchley described their interpretation of the scene: Native Americans dressed in skins and carrying either bows and arrows or rifles wandered through the city's streets, wistfully adrmring the "palaces of the whites" and "casting longing looks" at retail wares. At night the Native Americans "played, danced, sang, and yelled," a cacophony that seemed to the Europeans more like the noise of "enraged animals" than human activity. Even seasoned pioneers reportedly became uneasy because of the numbers of Indians and their raucous ~elebration.~~ When Wakara and the statuesque Shoshone leader Washakie first met in preparation for the negotiations, things at first did not go well. Washahe, angered for some reason, plucked WakaraS hatchet from his breast and tossed it aside.93Fortunately, the actual negotiation, which included the Utes' formal assent to Mormon policy, went better. When asked pointblank about their attitude toward the settlers, the Utes responded positively ("we [all] love you") and once more spoke of their willingness to have Mormon colonists in their midst. Likely the Utes wanted peace and still hoped that a policy of economic and cultural exchange with the Mormons, whatever its difficulties, was still the best path for their people.94 According to Mormon sources,Wakara was at center stage for much of the meeting. He prayed. At another point, he lifted the peace pipe to "Toowats" (which the white men interpreted as "Lord" or "Great Spiritvg5), and he circulated this token to those in attendance.Wakara even confessed to his error in assuming that Shoshone men had killed his friends in 1851, an assumption that had prompted his several reprisals. In redress, he. promised the Shoshones nine horses, to be paid the following year. In attaclung the Shoshones, he said, "I did not do as Brigham told me. I % lli hear now what he says to me: it is good. I was a fool.'' Moreover, in the future he pledged to do better. "He was not going to be the man to cut the peace in two," he insisted.The meeting, perhaps the high tide of his cooperation with the Mormons, concluded with gifts of clothing, ammunition, knives, and "two beef creatures to each tribes."96 If Wakara dominated the Young-brokered Ute-Shoshone council as Remy and Brenchley, AJourney to Great Salt Lake City, 2:291-92. BrighamYoung Office Journal, Book D, October 29,1861, BrighamYoung Collection. For a sikilar anecdote about Washakie that may have been a variation on the first, see Young, "The First Pioneers and the Indians," 98-100. 94 For a record of the Ute-Shoshone council, see "Council with Walker and other chiefs, September 4, 1852," and Young, Letter to the Commissioner of Indian Affairs, September 29, 1852, in Annual Report of the Commissioner of Indian Afairs: 1852 (Washington: Robert Armstrong, 1852), 147-48. 95 For the Euro-American interpretation of the word, see Gottfiedson, comp. and ed., History of Indian Depredations in Utah, 316,321. 96 "Council with Walker and other chiefs, September 4, 1852," and Letter to the Commissioner of Indian Affairs, September 29,1852. 92

93


WAKARA MEETS THE MORMONS

thoroughly as its minutes suggest, this was typical of him. From the time that the Mormons had arrived in the Great Basin four years earlier, he seemed a figure larger than life, dominating events.Yet the inner story of his motives and hopes is harder to capture. He appears to have been the most successful of the western Utes of his generation, making his way by natural talent, intelligence, and a willingness to act upon his opportunities. This last quality was one of the reasons that he sought rapprochement with Mormons, who offered him the advantages of trade and the teaching of new ways. However, his dealings with the Mormons are too full of his good words and works to be dismissed as simple expediency, a judgment that historians in the middle of the twentieth century have repeatedly put forward. Perhaps he may be best remembered as a tragic figure, both in the practical and in the classical sense, driven by forces not entirely in his control, ambivalent and inconsistent because of the conflict between old and new culture, and uncertain of his treatment by the newcomers who, despite usually good intentions, did not fully understand the binding effect omakara's inherited culture. These conflicting currents made for a harsher future. While the UteShoshone parley of 1852 represented the high tide of the early MormonUte relations, it concealed the growing tension that Wakara and his band were feeling about the Mormons. The Euro-American and Native American contest for the region's natural resources finally resulted in the Walker War of 1853-54, which would disrupt the Mormon settlement of central and southern Utah while at the same time taking several dozen Mormon and Native American lives. During the conflict,Wakara remained in character.Ambivalent about Euro-American settlement to the end of his life (January 1855) he seemed both angered by Mormon encroachment and attracted to Mormon culture. At length, he sought peace. But these events, the second part ofwakara's history with the Mormons, is another chapter yet to be told.


"Electricity for Everything": The Progress Company and the Electrification of Rural Salt Lake County, 1897-1924 By JUDSON CALLAWAY and SU RICHARDS

o single conjunction of technology and industry has so profoundly altered the patterns of life in Salt Lake County as has universal electrification. Not even the internal combustion engine, in all its myriad permutations and with all its attendant wonders and The Progress Company refail woes, has worked such far-reaching social store at 4792 S. State Street in alchemy as has the ubiquitous electrical web Murray, marketing electrical that has been spun during the last 120 years. in its in Murray, Even when the derivative industries of Midvale, and Magna, the compatelecommunications and data processing are excluded, electrification remains the single nY anticipated the successful greatest techno-industrial phenomenon at marketing~trategyadoptedby work, both historically and contemporane- Utah Power and Light Co. Judson Callaway has served as collection manager, curator of exhibits, and research historian for Wheeler Historic Farm. Su Richards is chairperson of the Murray City Historic Preservation Board, research archivist at the Fort Douglas Military Museum, and anthropology instructor at BrighamYoung University, Salt Lake Center.The authors would like to thank Sian M.Jones for her editorial assistance.


THE PROGRESS COMPANY

ously, in the Salt Lakevalley. The development of universal electrification-as an illuminant, as a source of motive power, as an agency of transport, and as an employing industry-is an historical issue of no small interest. It is also a complex and tangled one, not least during the formative phase of electrification, when decisions shaping future development were made by a constellation of corporate and individual players of widely varying influence, though none were able to direct the industry as a whole. Historians usually give only cursory attention to this period, offering a sketch of the larger corporate players as preamble to the more orderly era of Utah's electricity industry, which began in 1912 with the formation and subsequent rise to corporate hegemony of the Utah Power and Light Company. Contrary to this pattern, this paper approaches the tangled skein of pre-UP&L electrification by examining the career of one minor, but significant, corporate player. The Progress Company is neither wholly representative of nor entirely unique in the annals of early Salt LakeValley electrification, but its career does offer a perspective on this critical era not found elsewhere. Electricity has been used commercially in Murray longer than in any other part of the Salt Lake Valley, with the possible exception of the Salt Lake City business district. In October 1880 the Horn Silver Mining Company installed an electric arc lighting system at its smelter located, appropriately enough, near the future site of the Murray City municipal power plant. The system consisted of a five-horsepower steam engine driving a direct-current dynamo. The dynamo, in turn, energized two arc lamps, one designed for interior and one for exterior use, which were mounted atop thirty-foot poles. The lamps had been manufactured by Brush Arc Lighting of Cleveland, Ohio, and the entire project was the work of Brush's Denver agent, Charles C. Ruthrauff.' Ruthrauff had been aggressively promoting arc lighting for some time, but when both the city fathers and the gas company rebuffed him, he focused his efforts on organizing his own company. Several local capitalists, including William S. McCornick, Henry W. Lawrence, Gabriel S. Erb, Charles K. Gilchrist, William L. Hoag, and two of the Walker brothers, David and Matthew, were sufficiently impressed by the demonstration to offer financial baclung to Ruthrauff's project. O n November 8, the Salt Lake Power, Light and Heating Company filed articles of incorporation. The new company, which Ruthrauff claimed would be only the fifth in the world to distribute electricity from a central power station, proceeded to

' For contemporary reports on the Brush arc lights at the Horn Smelter, see Salt Lake Daily Herald, October 25 and 26, 1880. Unlike the demonstration lights installed at ZCMI, the Murray lights were permanent, allowing nighttime work at the smelter. See also Brian I? Winterowd, "Murray Smelters," in The History of Murray City, Utah (Murray: Murray City Corporation, 1976), 253. John P. Cahoon and the Miller-Cahoon Co. later acquired a portion of the Horn Smelter site. The power plant referred to is Murray City's recently decommissioned diesel generating facility located on 4800 South at about 150 West.


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

construct a steam-generating plant near the center of Salt Lake's Block 69, behind the Walker Brothers' "Grand Opera House." Three circuits, each with the capacity to light forty arc lamps, emanated from this "central station" to serve several of the larger business establishments along two blocks of East Temple (now Main) Street.2 A month before the electric lights were switched on at the Horn Smelter, on the evening of September 11, Ruthrauff had demonstrated a similar (or perhaps the same) system at the Zion's Co-operative Mercantile Institution's main store near the corner of East and South Temple Streets. The ZCMI installation consisted of two lamps, an interior lamp set up in the hardware department and an exterior lamp mounted in front of the building. For the space of two hours, a direct-current dynamo powered by the store's own steam engine energized these lamps.' This was a temporary affair, however, and it was not until the following April that downtown Salt Lake began receiving permanent and more or less regular electrical service from a new generating station located behind the Walker Opera House. Thereafter, electrical generation and dstribution increased in Salt Lake City, Murray, and elsewhere in the valley. Owing to the immature state of the industry, the new energy was reserved almost exclusively for lighting streets and large interior spaces, though by 1890 it was also proving its worth in powering street railways and industries. Arc lamps required the incineration of carbon electrodes, which emitted noxious fumes and made the lamps ill-suited for lighting homes, shops, and similar confined spaces. By 1880, incandescent lamps better suited for residential and small-scale commercial use became available, but the digculty and expense of securing a reliable power supply continued to limit electrical illumination to large industrial and business establishments and to the homes of the wealthy, especially in rural and semi-rural areas. This situation began to change in south Salt Lake County about 1893, when two prominent Murray businessmen, Harry Haynes and John P. Cahoon, built a combination commercial block and entertainment hall popularly known as the Murray Opera House. Behind their new Opera House, the partners installed a boiler and an early-model Edison directcurrent dynamo to furnish steam heat and electric light to the main building. As was the case with many such "isolated" power systems, the Opera House Plant provided sufficient surplus power to light a few business establishments and residences in the immediate vicinity, and it became in effect an abbreviated version of the central power station then operating in

"Utah Light &Traction: History of Origin and Development," an undated, unpublished report prepared for the Federal Power Commission in compliance with an FPC order dated May 11, 1937, 51-52, Utah State Historical Society, Salt Lake City (USHS); hereafter cited as UL&T Report. See also Boyd L. Dastrup, "Electrification of Utah 1880 to 1915" (MA thesis, University of Utah, 1976). Block 69 is the block bounded by Main Street,WestTemple, 100 South, and 200 South. Deseret Evening News, September 13,1880.


downtown Salt Lake City.' Four years later, in April 1897, the partners joined with John E Austin, chemist at the Germania smelter in Murray, and John P.'s brother and half-brother, Reynolds and James W. Cahoon, to incorporate the The Cahoon family. John P. Progress Campany. They fixed the company's Cahoon, seated on top - step, - had capital stock at ten thousand shares at a par business interests in electriciw, value of one dollar per share. Haynes and brickmaking,merchandlslng, John P. each subscribed 1,250 shares and the other incorporators together subscribed 400 banking, publishing, ranching, John P. led the more. The five incorporators also comprised and the new company's board of directors, with Progress Co. throughout its Harry Haynes, Reynolds Cahoon, and John twenty-seven-yearhistory. James P. Cahoon serving respectively as president, Cahoon, seated at right, also secretary, and treasurer. served as company president. When Haynes withdrew from the company Chester /? Cahoon, seated in about 1904.' Tames W. Cahoon redaced him as president. At about the same time, behind John Pyserved as genera' Chester P. Cahoon, John P:s son, joined the managerfromabout1904until firm as general manager and continued to finalliqu~dationinthe1920s. serve in that capacity for the remainder of the company's corporate life. In about 1909 James W. handed the presidency of the firm over to John P., and thereafter, for all practical purposes, the father-son team of John I? and Chester E? Cahoon financed and managed the Progress Company. In January and July 1906, amendments to the company's articles increased capitalization from $10,000 to $250,000 and then to $500,000. The amended articles also authorized the firm to acquire and operate a waterworks, whereupon John P. assigned to the company a franchise granted him in 1905 by Murray City to supply water for firefighting, business, and residential purpose^.^ -

4

"Utah Power & Light Company: History of Origin and Development" (January 24, 1941), unpublished report prepared for the Federal Power Commission in compliance with an FPC order dated May 11, 1937,287, USHS; hereafter cited as UP&L Report. In 1893 the Salt Lake Power, Light & Heating Co. became part of the Salt Lake & Ogden Gas & Electric Light Co., which in turn became part of the Union Light & Power Co. in 1897. In 1899 Union Light was reorganized as Utah Light & Power Co., which was absorbed into the Utah Light & Railway Co. in 1904. UL&R became part of the Utah Light &Traction Co. when UL&T was organized in 1914. UL&T was itself controlled by Utah Power & Light, which had been incorporated in 1912. For a detailed summary of the corporate evolution of the Salt LakeValley electricity industry, see UL&T and UP&L reports. Other important sources on this topic are Obed C. Haycock, "Electric Power Comes to Utah," Utah Historical Quarterly 45 (Spring 1977); John S. McCormick, "The Beginning of Modern Electric Power Service in Utah, 1912-22," Utah Historical Quarterly 56 (Winter 1988); and John S. McCormick, The Power to Make Good Things Happen ...:The History of Utah Power and Light Co. (Salt Lake City: Utah Power & Light, 1990). The Progress Co. incorporation file, Utah State Archives, Series 3888, No. 1831, Salt Lake City, Utah.


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

At incorporation, the Progress Company The Stairs hydroelectric plant, assumed control of the Opera House Plant, built between 1893 and 7896, but this small and obsolescent facility poorly supplied electricity to matched the company's ambitious future the Progress Company from 1897 plans. The plant's boiler continued for a time until Utah Light & Railway Co. to furnish steam for heating the Opera u House, but the dynamo was retired almost bought the plant and refused to immediately and replaced by a wholesale grantJohnP.Caho0nysdemand supply contract negotiated with Robert M. tormore favorable rates. Jones, manager of the Big Cottonwood Power Company. Jones had been the driving force behind the design and construction of the "Stairs" hydroelectric plant in Big Cottonwood Canyon, the first important hydroelectric project to become operational in the Salt Lake Valley. Under the terms of this agreement, the Progress Company purchased, at wholesale rates, about one-quarter of the Stairs's 2,000-kilowatt output. The electricity, in the form of three-phase alternating current, was delivered to Murray via a 10,000-volt transmission line owned by the Big Cottonwood Power Company but constructed at the expense of the Progress C ~ m p a n y . ~ I

As recorded in the articles of incorporation and in much of the company's advertising and stationery, the company's official style included the definite article (The Progress Company). See also R . Ray Rasmussen, "A Town Begins," in The History of Murray City, Utah, and entries under "Progress Co." and "Electricity Companies" in the 1899 through 1924 editions of the Polk directories for Salt Lake City. The company's venture into municipal water service was not a success, and in 1910, under pressure from Murray City to either improve its service or forfeit its franchise, the company sold its mains and pumping plant to the city for $27,000. Salt Lake Tribune,January 1, 1898. See also UP&L Report, Appendix, 288. The 1898 edition of the


It appears from the available evidence that The Germania Smelter, shown at the Progress Company intended to retail ~ e ~ o n e o f t h e ~ a r g e s t s m e ~ t i n g electricity to the several smelters and other operations in sanLake county high-volume industrial consumers then oper- when the Progress Company was ating at or near Murray. Austin's Germania organized in 1897. Two years was the largest of these, but in 1897 there were at least three other smelters of signifi- late', the Germania was 'lased cant size in south Salt Lake Valley: t h e anditso~eratjonsmovedtothe Hanauer, also located at Murray; and two AmericanSmeltingandRefining Sandy smelters, the C o n k l i n and t h e ~ o ~ ~ s n e w ~ u r r ~ p / a n t , a t r j g h t Pennsylvania (formerly the Mingo) . In addi- of photo. tion, at least two ore sampling d s were also in operation: the Pioneer at Sandy and the Taylor and Brunton at Murray. These facilities did not represent the full potential of the south valley electricity market. In 1899 the Standard Oil Company backed the organization of the American Smelting and Refining Company to consolidate that part of the American smelting industry not already under the control of the Guggenheim family. Under the corporate moniker of "ASARCO," the new super-company acquired both the Germania and the Hanauer and began negotiating with Sandy City for a site at which to locate its consolidated operations. Alarmed at the pending loss of the Germania and Hanauer's pay and tax rolls, the business cornrnunity at Murray organized an ad hoc committee that, in 1901, embarked upon a campaign to persuade ASARCO's management to locate its new Sanborn insurance map of Murray shows the Opera House Plant with a notation indicating that at that time the boiler was being used only for heating purposes. The 1911 edition shows the old power plant building considerably modified and without the boiler. A revised notation indicates that the building was being then used as a warehouse. See also James W: Cahoon to R . Ray Rasmussen, Murray City Recorder, October, 15, 1935, Murray City Recorder's Office; and Charles L. Keller, Tlze Lady in the Ore Bucket: A History of Settlement and Industy in the Tri-Canyon Area of the Wasatch Mountains (Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, 2001), 241-48.


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

plant near Murray. Under the chairmanship of James W. Cahoon, the committee assembled a package of financial incentives that convinced the smelter company to select a site on Little Cottonwood Creek, adjacent to the existing Germania works. At the same time, but apparently without the intervention of the Cahoon committee, the Highland Boy Gold Mining Company also elected to construct a new smelter near Murray at which to process ore taken from its Bingham Canyon mine.7 The Progress Company's marketing of electricity to large-consumption industrial clients was curtailed, however, when the Pioneer Electricity Company of Ogden and the Utah Power Company of Salt Lake City secured contracts to supply the Pennsylvania and other south Salt Lake County smelters. Only the Germania appears to have purchased its electricity from the Progress Company-and it is unclear whether ASARCO continued to do business with the company afier it moved the Germania's operations to the new Murray site. If, however, the company was disappointed by the customers it did not attract, it was equally disappointed by those it did. In a letter written in 1935 to the Murray City Recorder, James W. Cahoon explained that "orders to connect houses were so heavy that our outlays were much heavier than our receipts so when Murray was incorporated we went to the first council and laid our case before them and said we [thought] the business should belong to the city."8James W.'s chronology is questionable. The first session of the new Murray City Council convened in January 1903, but the council minutes do not mention an offer to sell the Progress Company until the following June. At that time, the company's secretary, John F? Cahoon, presented a verbal offer and repeated it in writing three months 1ater.The asking price was $10,000, the full amount of the company's authorized capitalization, payable in annual installments of $1,000 each. The failure to attract high-volume industrial consumers, coupled with the unprofitability of servicing low-volume residential consumers, appears to have seriously dampened the incorporators' interest in the electricity business. Mayor Chilion L. Miller and the city council were not impressed and took no action until May 1904, when they declined "on account of other expenses the city was e~pecting."~ John p's enthusiasm for the business soon revived, however, and from 1905 onward he initiated a series of projects that made the Progress Company one of the most extensive electricity concerns operating in south Salt Lake County. In December he obtained franchises from Salt Lake

' Winterowd, "Murray Smelters," 252-54. See also Cahoon to Rasmussen; Edgar M. Ledyard, "Early Mining and Smelting South of Salt Lake City," Ax-I-Dent-Ax 16 (May 1935),8; Gary B. Hansen, "Industry of Destiny: Copper in Utah" Utah Historical Quarterly 31 (Summer 1963): 262-79; and "History of Smelting in the Salt Lakevalley,"unpublished typescript (n.a., n.d.), USHS. Cahoon to Rasmussen. Murray City Council Minute Book A, Minute No. 387, June 9, 1903; Minute No. 657, September 15,1903; Minute No. 945, May 3,1904.


THE PROGRESS COMPANY

County and Murray City authorizing the The Bennion & Sons flour mi//, an company t 0 string power lines along public intermediate-sin, industria/ oDerrights of way.lo The company constructed two in Murray, exterior and intehydroelectric plants on Big Cottonwood rior. TheuseofelectriCityiS Creek, one at State Street and the other at 900 E&. These, and a third plant owned in much in evidence in these phopartnership with Rudolph Knudsen, gave the tographs=The Bennions company a generating capacity of about 375 their small hvdroelectric plant on kilowatts. In about 1910 the purchase of the theJordanRivertotheProgress Hyrum Bennion and Sons hydroelectric cow in about 1910. plant on the Jordan River added another 75 kilowatts of generating capacity.l1 The new plants reduced but did not eliminate the company's dependency on wholesale suppliers for its electricity.At the same time, the plants on Big Cottonwood created the opportunity for expensive legal problems. Early in 1907 Salt Lake City began diverting water from Big Cottonwood Creek, an action that John P. believed infringed on rights previously appropriated to the Progress Company. In February he initiated a lawsuit against the city and about four hundred individual and corporate Big Cottonwood water users in an effort to "quiet and confirm" the company's title to the disputed water.The litigation continued in the Third District and Utah Supreme Courts until 1918 but failed to uphold John Pls most important claims.12 By one estimate, litigatlo Murray City Council Minute Book A, December 12, 1905,247; and Ordinances and Resolutions of Murray City 1903-12, Chapter 31, 103-105. See also Salt Lake County Commission, Minute Book 0 , November 27,1905,94, and December 18,1905,111-12, hereafter cited as Minute Book 0 . " UP&L Report, Appendix, 289-92. For a description of the company's hydroelectric plants, including details of construction, equipment, estimated value, and performance, see the testimony of defense witness Oscar H. Skidmore in Appellant's Abstract of Record, T h e Progress Company and Rudolph Knudsen v. Salt Lake C i t y et al., Utah Supreme Court, Utah State Archives, Series 1489, No. 2831,929-33. l2 Appellant's Abstract of Record, T h e Progress Company and Rudolph Knudsen v. Salt Lake C i t y et al., 2-197. See also Utah Supreme Court, Progress Co. v. Salt Lake C i t y et al. (No. 3851), West Pacijlc Reporter, 1st Series, 173 Uune 6,1918): 705.


ing the "Progress Case" cost John l? and his Utility poles in Murray about 1908. company $56,000.~~ The transformers on the pole line Despite this, the company continued to along the far (west) side of State enlarge its sphere of operations. It extended Street are characteristic of a service to Midvale in 1910 and to Magna in transmission line for alternating 1916. The companv's transmission and districe*ainly bution facilities came to include several sub- current- The line stations and 111 miles of pole lines that belongedtotheProgressCowebbed the valley south of Salt Lake City." But its dominion over this extensive territory did not go unchallenged. In 1911 the Utah County Light and Power Company completed a transmission line between its plant at Alpine and Midvale, where it built a distribution system to rival that of the Progress Company. The interloper then undercut the Progress Company's rates and forced Chester Cahoon to respond by "[giving] the lights away for a year and a halfS7'TheMidvale rate war ended when the Knight Consolidated Power Company acquired the Utah County company in 1912 and increased its rates in the Midvale district to conform to a company-wide standard.15 As costly as it was to "give the lights away" in Midvale, the rate war probably caused less damage to the Progress Company than did Murray City's decision to form its own power company. Eight years after Mayor Miller and the city council had declined John l? Cahoon's offer to sell the company, both sides had reconsidered their positions. The city administration now favored the municipal ownership of utilities, but Cahoon had lost interest in liquidating his company. In the case of John P. Cahoon, the change of heart no doubt reflected both the substantial investment he had made in his company since 1904 as well as a new vision of its role vis-a-vis other Cahoon business interests. At this time, John P. held a controlling interest in the Salt Lake Pressed Brick I

4

l 3 Claire Georgene Cahoon Evans, "John Pulaski Cahoon," unpublished biographical sketch (1968), USHS. l4 UP&L Report, 35, and Appendix, 290-92. l5 UP&L Report, Appendix, 290-91.


THE PROGRESS COMPANY

Company (incorporated in 1891) and was a stockholder and member of the board of the Mill Creek Power Company (incorporated in 1906). He joined in the organization of the Mill Creek company after Utah Light and Railway, successor to the Big Cottonwood Power Company, refused to renew the Progress Company's supply contract on terms more favorable to the Murray company. It appears that Cahoon had originally intended to use one or more of his hydroelectric plants on Big Cottonwood Creek to supply electricity to the SLPB's brickyard in Mill Creek over the transmission line authorized by Salt Lake County in December 1905.The county franchise permitted a pole line running north on State Street from the limits of Murray City to 1400 South (now 3300 South), thence east to 1100 East, and thence north to a point opposite the brickyard.With the impending termination of the Utah Light and Railway contract, John F? took a new tack and arranged for SLPB to purchase the Mill Creek company's entire output. This was delivered to a substation at the brickyard, and the electricity not required for brick-making was forwarded via the 1100 East-1400 South-State Street transmission line to Murray.16 As for Murray City, its change of policy was due, at least in part, to the triumph of two Socialist candidates in the municipal elections of 1911.The successful candidacies of George A. Huscher for mayor and Gottlieb Berger for one of two city commission seats placed the Socialists in a favorable position to act on one of their primary political objectives: public ownership of public services.'' However, the Socialists were not alone in supporting municipal power. The previous city administration had taken an important step in that direction by hiring engineer C. E. Ingersol to study the feasibility of a municipally owned and operated power system. Ingersol's report was encouraging, but the city took no action until 1912, when Mayor Huscher proposed a $60,000 bond issue to fund a city-owned power system. In a special election held on July 30, voters approved the bond issue. With funding secured, the city purchased a power site on Little Cottonwood Creek, ordered machinery, and built a generator house, transmission lines, and substations.18Work progressed steadily through 1913, and on December 20 the city directed the Progress Company to disconnect its lines from the city's distribution system.l9 The company did not welcome the loss of Murray City's business, but neither would it suffer a severe setback. By one estimate, charges for street and miscellaneous lighting in 1912 amounted to $2,700-an important l6 Minute Book 0, 111-12; Salt Lake Tribune, August 16, 1906; UP&L Report, 288; and Thomas G. Alexander, "In the Shadow of the Brickman: Interstate Brick Company and its Predecessor, 1891-1975," typescript (nd), USHS. "John S. McCorrnick and John R . Sillito, "Respectable Reformers: Utah Socialists in Power, 1900-1925,'' in A World We Thought We Knew: Readings in Utah History, ed. McCorrnick and Sillito (Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, 1995), 122-25. '' Rasmussen, "A Town Begins," 46-54. l9 UP&L Report, Appendix, 291.


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

At left: George A. Huscher, Socialist mayor of Murray City and champion of a municipally owned electricity plant. When asked what he proposed to do with the Progress Co., Mayor Huscher reportedly replied, "I will do with them as if they were not in existence," which is about what he did. Right: Gottlieb Berger, Murray City councilman, Socialist, and Huscher ally.

sum, but its loss was offset by income received from several high-volume clients, including the Western Fire Clay Company, the Bennion flour mill, a planing mill, the Miller-Cahoon Company, and Salt Lake County, as well as from an increasing number of low-volume commercial and residential The appearance of yet another competitor, however, would increasingly pose a more serious challenge. The Progress Company served a sizable geographic area with a large customer base; in the Magna-Pleasant Green district alone, its wires would eventually connect to almost 700 homes and businesses, but it did not have this territory to itself.21N o sooner had the rate war with Utah County Light and Power ended than a new and more formidable foe hove into view. The Utah Power and Light Company was organized in 1912 expressly to consolidate independent companies. By 1913, with generous financial backing from General Electric, UP&L had acquired several important local companies, including Telluride Power and Knight Consolidated Power, and in 1915 it gained control of the electrical properties of Utah Light and Traction (formerly Utah Light and Railway). Thereafter, UP&L was in a position to dictate wholesale rates to its few remaining competitors, including the Progress Company." John F? anticipated the threat that both Murray City and larger companies posed and, knowing that the loss of hundreds of industrial, commercial, and residential customers would be a serious matter, he responded with a vigorous campaign against the Murray City power project and its bond issue. In the view of at least some of the project7s supporters, including Murray physician Frank M. McHugh, the "Progress crowd" responded too vigorously by employing tactics that included personal intimidation, the propagation of false and misleading information, manipulation of money 20

"

'*

Rasmussen,"A Town Begins," 50. UP&L Report, Appendix, 292. McCormick, "The Beginning of Modern Electric Power Service," 7-12, and UP&L Report, 51-59.


THE PROGRESS COMPANY

Murray City's hydroelectric planf, which became operational in December 1913.

markets, discriminatory business practices, and fraud. In an article published two years after the bond issue was approved, Dr. McHugh (otherwise known to history for his part in the Joe Hill affair) praised the Murray power project and denounced its opponents-especially John F? C a h o ~ n . ~ ~ Whether or not John P s methods justified McHugh's critique is a matter for further study. It is difficult in retrospect, and with the information available, to confirm or refute his accusations-although certainly nothing in the doctor's catalogue of skullduggery was unknown to the politics of the day. The fact, however, that in July 1914 the Murray City Commission directed the city attorney to consult with the Utah attorney general to determine if the Progress Company had violated the state's fair business statute suggests that others besides Dr. McHugh questioned the propriety of the company's rneth~ds.~' Resentment was by no means limited to the supporters of municipal power. There was no shortage of ill feeling on the side of the Progress Company, as is evident in this passage from a letter James W. Cahoon wrote to R . Ray Rasmussen more than two decades after approval of the power plant bond issue: In 1908 when [Mayor] Huscher talked of bonding for a plant, a committee called on him and asked him what he proposed to do with the Progress Company who had been encouraged to spend their money and build up a business. His reply was, "I will do with them as if they were not in existence."The bonds were voted and I can prove that those who voted the bonds paid less than 5% of the taxes of this town. At that time, I was one of the heaviest taxpayers in Murray City. The following year, I paid on all my property ten mills, the following year seven mills, and the third year five mills to [keep] the plant running.25 23 Frank M. McHugh, "The Murray Power Plant: An Experiment in Municipal Ownership," Utah Survey 3 (December 1915). Frank and Olivia McHugh immigrated to Utah in 1910 from their native Kentucky and settled in Murray, where they became active members of the Utah Socialist party. In 1912 Frank stood as the party's candidate for governor, and Olivia ran as its candidate for Superintendent of Public Instruction. Neither bid was successftil.The McHughs had no interest in Socialists before coming to Murray, but the success of the city's power project so impressed the politically aware couple that they enlisted in the party's cause. For a discussion of Dr. McHugh's part in the arrest and subsequent prosecuill (Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, 1969), 63-66, tion of Joe Hill, see Gibbs M. Srnith,]oe H 73-75. 24 Rasmussen, "A Town Begins," 54. 25 Cahoon to Rasmussen.

5

(I)


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

It should be noted that the bond issue was approved in 1912, not 1908, as James W. recalled. Moreover, it is not possible with available information to verifi his statement that the issue was approved by those voters who paid the least tax. Mr. Cahoon evidently believed that the city should be governed like a business corporation, with voting privileges proportionate to capital invested; small wonder he and Socialists like Huscher and ~ e r ~ e r found themselves at odds. Events had taken an ironic turn to which he remained unreconciled two decades later: Through the normal workings of democratic government, James W: was compelled to support, through taxes, a municipal power scheme that seriously compromised the survival of his own firm. Even in the prevailing atmosphere of resentment and suspicion, the Progress Company and the new Murray City power company found areas of profitable cooperation. In December 1913, as they were ordering the Progress Company disconnected from the city's distribution system, the city commissioners also authorized two important agreements between their company and its private sector rival. The first of these agreements permitted the sale of surplus electricity to the Progress Company, and-the second provided for the sharing of utility poles. Later, in September 1918, the competitors also established a protocol deahng with the problem created when the customers of one company switched to the other without first settling their outstanding accounts.26 That the two companies could come to an understanding on this issue indicates two things: first, the extent and seriousness of the problem, for obviously each side believed it gained no advantage from the situation; and second, the importance both parties attached to residential and small business customers. The large number of orders to connect homes-which James W. had cited as the reason for offering to sell the company in 1903had now become the bread-and-butter business of both the private and the public concerns. In the years following the advent of public power in Murray, the formerly discounted residential and small business markets had assumed new importance. In about 1910, D. Branson Brinton, a recently graduated electrical engineer from the University of Utah, joined the Progress Company as an electrician." Brinton assumed responsibility for the company's Murray district, which included managing an electrical merchandise store located, along with the firm's general offices, at 4792 S. State Street in Murray. Once in charge, Brinton quickly demonstrated that he was no less adept in the arts of the merchant than he was skilled in the sciences of the electrician. During the early years of the twentieth century, electricity suppliers 2 ~ a s m u s s e n"A , Town Begins," 54.

'' Information on D. Branson Brinton and the Brinton Electric Co. has been provided by Mr. Brinton's son Marshall K. Brinton through several informal conversations with the authors and in one formal interview conducted by the authors on April 15, 1999, at Wheeler Historical Farm.


THE PROGRESS COMPANY

The Brinton Electric Company. D. Branson Brinton, founder,

stands at left with WilliamA. Winger,a member of his sales staff.

provided their customers with the basic supplies required to use the new form of energy. This was especially true in rural and semi-rural areas, where homeowners, petty merchants, farmers, and similar low-volume consumers did not have convenient access to these highly specialized goods. It was not common at that time, however, for electricity companies to also sell electricity-using appliances. To the extent such devices were available at all, conventional retailers usually handled these durable goods as an adjunct to traditional lines of merchandise. It is not clear if Brinton's position as merchant-electrician was the cause or the effect of what happened next, but there is no doubt that his arrival at the Progress Company coincided with a new approach in its marketing. At about this time, the company began offering for sale, in addition to light bulbs, fuses, and other consumables, durable electrical goods. At the time, lighting was by far the most common, and in most instances the only, domestic use of electricity. By filling the homes of its customers with all manner of electricity-consuming appliances, the Progress Company hoped to stimulate demand for its primary product. The managers adopted the theory of consumption-based marketing: Increase the demand for a primary product (in this case, electricity) by increasing that product's secondary uses. Utah Power and Light would later apply this strategy with considerable success.28 The strategy would provide little benefit to the Progress Company-but not for want of effort on the part of the company's man in Murray. Mr. Brinton's salesmanship, in fact, proved so effective that in 1921 he and a partner purchased the Progress Company's merchandising operation. The partnership dissolved the following year to be replaced by the Brinton Electric Company, which continued under two generations of family management into the 1990s.The Brinton company motto, which like its merchandise, business premises, and clientele, had been taken over from the Progress Company, reflected the new marketing philosophy: "Electricity for Everything, Everything for Electricity.'' For the Progress Company, however, consumption-based marketing 28

McCormick, History of Utah Power and Light.


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

Apex ccsuctioncleaner" advertising circular. In an effort to increase demand for electricity, the Progress Co. marketed the Apex and other electrical appliances to households in south Salt Lake County.

proved to be too little, too soon. In 1910 few home electrical appliances existed, and those few too often proved to be expensive, inefficient, and unreliable. Moreover, though most customers had come to accept the advantages of electric light in the home, the value (or even the propriety) of machines performing common household tasks (so-called 6 6women's work") remained suspect.29Given the entrenched attitudes respecting the relative economic worth of male vis-a-vis female labor that prevailed at the beginning of the twentieth century, market acceptance of such devices required time and a considerable investment in both product development and promotion. Heavily capitalized companies like UP&L could afford such investments, but not so the Progress Company. It began the battle to fill south Salt Lake County homes with all manner of electric appliances, but others would garner the spoils. At the time Murray voters approved funding for a city-owned power system, electricity was ceasing to be a novelty in the urbanized parts of Salt Lake County. In the county's farming districts, however, the novelty was still all too fre~h.'~Electricity'sarrival at individual rural homes and 23,ee Leah D. Widtsoe, "Labor Saving Devices for the Farm Home," Utah Agricultural College Experiment Station Circular No. 6 oune 1912).A prominent Utah educator,Widtsoe was an early leader in what came to be called the home economics movement. In "Labor Saving Devices," she discusses and challenges the prevailing social attitudes of that day toward "women's work." Her thesis is that the labor of farm women in the home was equal in value to the labor of farm men in the field. Therefore, if an investment in labor-saving farm machinery was justified on economic grounds, the same applied to labor-saving household machines. 30 Thirteenth Census ofthe United States Taken in theyear 1910 (Washington, D.C.: Bureau of the Census): Vol I, ccPopulation1910" (1913);"Abstract of the Census with Supplement for Utah" (1913);and "Central Electric Light and Power Stations.. .l912) (Bulletin 124, 1914). Census data do not provide direct


THE PROGRESS COMPANY

farmsteads represent installments in an ongoing drama, and in many instances has lodged as firmly in the memory of the actors as the births, marriages, and deaths of relatives and friends. Often, it was the Progress Company that supplied the electricity, but, regrettably, the company records are no longer available to tell this story and the history must be recovered from family recollections. One such recollection is preserved in a biographical sketch of James Theodore Erekson written in 1966 by the subject's daughter Mary Fern: April 14, 1914, was an eventful day in the Erekson home. This was the day that the electric lights were turned on in all of the rooms. It also marked the end of the refilling of the kerosene lamps, the trimming of the wicks and the washing and polishing of lamp chimneys, which was always a Saturday task.The electric power was furnished by the Progress Company, James Theodore standing the expense of the pole line in from 5900 South to his home. However, part of the amount paid was deductible in electric ~ervice.~'

The reminiscence mentions only house lighting, with no reference to electricity being installed in the farm's outbuildings or being used for farming or household chores. This agrees with the pattern of consumer behavior mentioned earlier: Electricity was applied first to illumination and only later used for motive power and other purposes. Mary Fern's account of dispensing with kerosene lamps is at odds with other first-person recollections, including the following statement made in the 1930s by Chester F? Cahoon: Today we hardly know what an outage is but in those days we had many lasting from one to twenty-four hours. Most of the time we were overloaded and lights were just a red glow. Everyone kept a supply of candles and kerosene--just in case. It was often necessary to go around to our power customers and have them shut off their motors so we could bring the voltage

Perhaps Mary Fern simply assumed that electrical service in 1914 was as reliable as that which she knew in later years. A more interesting possibility, however, is that, for reasons yet to be discovered, the circuit serving 5900 South was more reliable than others in the company's system. Other interesting questions arise in connection with the Ereksons' pole line. Nothing is unusual about a farm house being sufficiently far removed from an electrical distribution line as to require a connecting pole line, and it might well have been common practice at that time for the customer to bear the expense of providing the line. But if such was the case, why should the Progress Company have offered a rebate? Was the rebate a "customer incentive" intended to attract business from rural customers? Conversely, if evidence of how many residents of the area occupied dwellings equipped with electricity. They do, however, suggest the number was not large. Anecdotal evidence strongly suggests that urban areas were more electrified than the rural districts. 31 Mary Fern Erekson, "Father: History of James Theodore Erekson, Native Pioneer of 1864," unpublished biographical sketch (1966),copy at Murray City Parks and Recreation office. 32 Quoted in UP&L Report, Appendix, 289.


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

it was an atypical practice to require the customer to provide the pole line, was this an instance of the company's financial dificulties, which will be discussed later? Henry Joseph Wheeler became a customer of the Progress Company somewhat earlier than his neighbor, James Erekson, did. Interviews with family members suggest that the Wheelers installed electricity in their home about 1910, a date that agrees with physical evidence discovered when the Salt Lake County Parks and Recreation Department restored the house in 1979.33Post-construction modifications indicate that wiring and fixtures were retrofitted into a structure originally designed without the expectation of electricity. This is noteworthy in that Sariah Wheeler, who designed the farm house, included in her plan a fully plumbed pantry and bathroom, the latter equipped with a flush toilet.34The farm house was built in 1898, a time when the possibility of running water and electric power in farm homes seemed equally remote.With her characteristic ability to look beyond present limitations and envision future opportunities, Mrs. Wheeler provided for running water in the design of her new home, but she did not foresee the coming of electricity. Given Sariah's progressive attitudes and the family's financial resources, this omission su6tly indicates just how isolated from the world of electric light and power rural Salt Lake County was at the close of the nineteenth century. Like the Erekson family, the Wheeler family used electricity initially to illuminate their home and only later extended it to other buildings and applied it to other uses. Anecdotal evidence documents, at least in outline, The the farm's evolution from simple house lighting to full electrifi~ation.~~ first electric appliance of record was Sariah's wringer-washing machine, reputed to be one of the first four in the neighborhood. Exactly when this device made its appearance is uncertain, but it was probably on hand shortly after electricity arrived in 1910; Sariah Wheeler was certainly no technophobe and she did not like to be kept waiting. Electrification of the farm's outbuildings was deferred for several years, until 1919 or 1920, and then completed more or less as a single project. Recollections differ as to who performed the task but they agree that one or more members of the family, not a hired contractor, installed the system. Incident to farm electrification, the family installed an electric pump in one of the farm's outbuildings as a replacement for the hydraulic ram that

33 A. Glen Humpherys, oral history interview by authors. Dr. Humpherys served as curator-director of Wheeler Historic Farm from 1976 until 2000 and accumulated considerable information about the site, much of it from members of the Wheeler family and their neighbors. 34 Biographical Record ofsalt Lake City and Vicinity (Chicago: National Historical Record Co., 1902), 429, copy at USHS. 35 Wallace N. Cooper 2, "The Wheeler Farm Research Restoration Reconstruction," unpublished report prepared for the Salt Lake County Recreation and Parks Department (1977).The report includes information from first-person interviews, with recollections spanning the period from before construction of the house in 1898 to 1969,when Salt Lake County acquired the property.


THE PROGRESS COMPANY

had previously supplied water to the farm house. The ram, which dated from the home's construction in 1898, had been subject to freezing and thus rendered Sariah Wheeler's innovative plumbing system unusable several months each year. It was, therefore, the household technology Mrs. Wheeler had not foreseen (electricity) that eventually came to the rescue of the technology that she had foreseen (indoor plumbing) and made it fully usable. In spite of mounting competition from Murray City's municipal power company, the growing presence of Utah Power and Light, and disappointing results in the Progress Case litigation, the Progress Company's prospects seemed promising as it approached the 1920s.The company's transmission and distribution lines crisscrossed south Salt Lake County; it was successfully recruiting new customers, both in the urban enclaves of Murray, Midvale, and Magna and in the rural and semi-rural districts that comprised the remainder of the county; it possessed an independent (if modest) generating capacity; it was connected through substations at Midvale and the Salt Lake Pressed Brick Company's yard in Mill Creek with UP&Lk distribution system, the largest electricity supply source in Utah; and it was pressing forward with a proactive program aimed at increasing the company's market share through consumption-based marketing and consumer merchandising. Appearances, however, often deceive. Behind this reassuring facade, forces were at work sapping the Progress Company's vitality. Rapid but underfunded expansion, the expense of litigating the Progress Case, and escalating competition overtaxed the firm's limited capital resources. The costs of capital improvements and even routine operation expenses were being paid directly from income or personally by John P. Cahoon. The company, of course, employed conventional and approved methods of finance. For example, in January 1915, it pledged real property and water rights to secure $100,000 in mortgage bonds at 6 per~ent.'~ This provided the company with a sizable infusion of capital-$40,000 more, in fact, than the bond issue Murray City had recently floated to build its entire municipal power system!-but it was apparently not sizable enough to place the firm on a sound financial footing. At about this time, entries reflecting delinquent taxes and a pattern of short-term borrowing appear in the ledgers of the county re~order.'~ Only small amounts were involved (and these were quickly paid), but the appearance of the entries at all suggests that the company's finances were something less than sound. Little information exists on which to base a detailed analysis of the company's financial distress, but the ascendancy of Utah Power and Light likely acted as an important factor. Upon acquiring Knight Consolidated Power in 1913, UP&L became the Progress Company's principal wholesale 36 The bonds were issued in denominations of $500 (100 bonds), $250 (100 bonds), and $100 (250 bonds), and by January 1920 the debt had been discharged. 37 Salt Lake County Recorder,Abstract ofTitle Book D-ll,92,146,149, and Book D-31,166-67.


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

Progress Co. line crew somewhere in rural Salt Lake County. The crew captain is John William Krebs and the vehicle is an International Harvester Autowagon (registered by the company in 1916).

supplier. In view of its selfdeclared mandate to consolidate the Utah electricity industry, it is doubtful that the new super-company showed much compassion to one of the last important independent private-sector electric firms operating in the Salt Lake Valley. One can only conjecture whether or not UP&L acted with deliberation to speed the Progress Company's demise or waited patiently for a hostile market to deliver the inevitable coup de grdce. What is certain, however, is that on April 30, 1921, the Progress Company transferred title to all its properties outside Murray City, with the exception of some real estate and associated water rights, to UP&L's acolyte, the Utah Power Company (of Maine). Shortly thereafter, title was passed on to Utah Power and Light itself.38 This transaction reduced the company's properties to those inside the corporate limits of Murray City. There was little point in continuing such a truncated system, and so, for a second time, the Progress Company was offered to Murray City. Chester Cahoon opened negotiations on June 24, 1924, and in the following months the two parties agreed to a purchase price of $32,500. The mayor and city commissioners approved the bill of sale by resolution on December 11, 1924, at which time the Progress Company ceased to exist as an active corporation.Voting in favor of the resolution was Commissioner Gottlieb Berger, the man who, twelve years before, had voted to establish Murray City's municipal power company.39 By law, a corporation that had ceased to legally exist could continue operations to wind up its business affairs." The Progress Company persisted in this post mortem existence until at least the spring of 1931, when it transferred title to a parcel of land and attendant water rights to Salt Lake City. Ironically, these same water rights had been confirmed to the company as a

UP&L Report, Appendix, 292. Murray City Commission, Minute Book G:June 18,1924,169;July 16,1924,199;July 28,1924,204 (Resolution No. 137);July 31, 1924,207 (Resolution No. 141);December 11,1924,354 (Resolution No. 218). 40 Compiled Laws of the State $Utah, 1907, Title 14, Chapter 1, $323 (1908),as amended. 38

39


THE PROGRESS COMPANY

result of the Progress Case and were, perhaps, the only tangible benefit it had derived from that costly litigati~n.~' In retrospect, it would seem that the Progress Company impressed itself but lightly on the history of Salt Lake County. It is little remembered today, even among historians who have made the electricity industry their special study.42What, then, did this all-but-forgotten enterprise achieve in its almost three decades of corporate life? It remained an active concern with an independent corporate identity for a period of twenty-seven years, at a time (1897-1924) when the average life of an electricity company in the valley lasted less than three years. It also extended electrical service to residential and small business customers (including farms and rural households) not. otherwise served by industrial and transportation-oriented companies, and it pioneered the consumer marketing of home electrical appliances. The company benefited very little from this effort, but its initiative stimulated demand and cultivated a market later exploited by Utah Power and Light and others. The Progress Company also influenced the decision of Murray City officials to acquire a municipal power system for their community. Rightly or wrongly, the proponents of municipal power cited the company as an example of all that was amiss with the private ownership of utilities. The motives and even the veracity of the company were questioned and the quality of its service denigrated-and, as Chester P. admitted, the service provided by the Progress Company left much to be desired. Desirable electrical service was not at that time as important as was available electrical service, however. Murray residents, like many others in south Salt Lake County, learned to appreciate the advantages of home and small business electrification (imperfect though it may have been) courtesy of the Progress Company. If it is true that the company failed to meet the expectations of its customers, it is equally true that it played an important part in creating those expectations in the first place. Lastly, the Progress Company initiated litigation that led to the codification of water allocations along Big Cottonwood Creek and "confirmed and quieted" the title of Salt Lake City to water claimed by the city under a series of exchange agreements between itself and prior claimants. Obviously, not all of these were things the Progress Company wished to accomplish, and in some cases the company's accomplishments ill-served its own best interests. But, intended or not, beneficial or not, its accomplishments were real and have left their impress on the history of Salt Lake County. 41 Utah Third District Court: Case file, Progress Co. and R u d o k h Knudsen v. Salt Lake City et al., unreported decision, Utah State Archives and Records Service (Series 1622, No. 8921). 42 Of the four scholarly works that treat the early history of electricity in Salt Lake County (Dastrup, "Electrification of Utah"; Haycock, "Electric Power Comes to Utah"; and McCormick, "The Beginning of Modern Electric Power Service" and The Power to Make Good Things Happen), only Haycock mentions the Progress Co. by name, and only in a footnote listing small companies that served isolated communities after 1921.


The Fight at Soldier Crossing, 1884: Military Considerations in Canyon Country By ROBERT S. MCPHERSON and WINSTON B. HURST

I

n the summer of 1881, the Utes in southeastern Utah were rejoicing over recent events that had culminated in their victory at the battle of Pinhook Draw.' Under the sod of southeastern Utah and southwestern Colorado lay twelve cowboys whose deaths sent a sharp message to local cattle outfits that their use of Ute lands would come at a price in blood. The whites had received stinging lessons on the problems of pursuing Indians in their own territory, the danger of riding into a well-laid ambush, the importance of clearly developed tactical and logistical plans, and the difficulty of pursuing a victorious foe who melted into the landscape or claimed ignorance of events.Yet time would show that it was the Utes who proved most adept at applying lessons from the past. Three years later, at Soldier Crossing, history would repeat itself. This clash between the Utes and military brought into sharp focus the problem of conducting military operations in the canyon country of southeastern Utah, showing how a decidedly smaller force can turn overwhelming odds to its favor. While the loss of life in this particular brushfire war was small and the fray not terribly significant, it provides an opportunity to understand why the conflict between the Utes and whites of the region dragged on in intermittent spurts for another forty years, not ending until 1923. But in 1881 this incessant hostility lay in the future, with no hint as to its final outcome. The Utes were celebrating their victory at Pinhook Draw and using it to make clear their message of resistance to white expansion. Mancos Jim, one of the prominent Ute participants in the fight, openly boasted about it to the Mormon settlers in Bluff. Albert R. Lyman, a local historian, writes how the Utes "looked with ugly disfavor" at any efforts by the whites to use the grasslands of the San Juan area for grazing. Any animal found doing so was fair game for theft, mutilation, or appropriation as a quick meal. The Dolores News reported "Indians kill[ing] hundreds of cattle belonging to the stockmen of this vicinity, permitting them to lie Robert S. McPherson teaches history at the College of Eastern Utah-San Juan Campus and is on the editorial advisory board of Utah Historical Quarterly. Winston B. Hurst is an archaeologist and history buff who lives and works in Blanding and is a native of southeastern Utah. Terrain photos and graphics were done by Winston Hurst.

' See Rusty Salmon and Robert S. McPherson, "Cowboys, Indians, and Conflict: The Pinhook Draw Fight, 1881," Utah Historical Quarterly 69 (2001):4-28.


SOLDIER CROSSING

where they fell, not making any use of them."2 Lyman tells of a group of stockmen inspecting possible rangelands near Elk Ridge who "met a band of Utes headed by Mancos Jim, who registered his sullen objection to any white man entering this last splendid hunting ground where the Ute reigned supreme.") Mancos Jim was quoted as saying, "Me no go; my father die here, my father's father die here, me die here At this time, the twelve or so small cattle outfits in the area were also feeling the pressure of change as larger outfits began eyeing the Four Corners region. One of the most prominent was the Kansas and New Mexico Land and Cattle Company. Backed by British and Scottish investors and operated by broth- Mancos Jim. ers Harold and Edmund Carlisle from England, this company entered southeastern Utah in 1883. By 1896 the Carlisle outfit would become the largest of a number of cattle operations competing for grass in southeastern Utah.5 In the meantime, the newspapers were advertising that "rich specimens of gold and silver ore" had been discovered on the northern part of the Ute reservation and that "as soon as the season is open there will be a rush of miners and prospectors to the new fields." "The section now occupied by [the Southern Utes] may be opened up to settlement by the busy, pushing white population which is flocking to us and spreading all over the So~thwest."~ Between the cowboys and the miners, the Utes had their hands full protecting their lands. The first fracas of importance in events leading to the Soldier Crossing fight occurred along the San Juan River near what is today called Aneth. During the late 1870s and early 1880s, eighteen families from Colorado had crossed over the state line into Utah and settled along the banks of the river to pursue farming and trade. Among these settlers was Henry L. Mitchell, a firebrand of contention among Anglos, Navajos, and Utes alike. His story has been told elsewhere. Peter Tracy, who lived one mile below

* Dolores News, October 29, 1881. Albert R. Lyman, "History of San Juan County, 1879-1917," 35, Special Collections, Harold B. Lee Library, BrighamYoung University,Provo, Utah (Lee Library). Quoted in Beatrice P. Nielson, "Settling of San Juan County," 11, Special Collections, Marriott Library, University of Utah, Salt Lake City. Don D.Walker, "The Carlisles: Cattle Barons of the Upper Basin," U t a h Histovical Quarterly 32 (1964): 269-70,272. Dolores News, March 4 and 11,1882.


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Mitchell's ranch, displayed a similar temperament-violent and quick to offend.' O n the evening of August 28, 1883, a group of Utes visited Tracy's homestead, found that he was not around, and helped themselves to corn and melons. The next night a band of seventy Utes returned, and Tracy demanded pay. A fight ensued and, according to some accounts, a Ute named The Sore Leg shot Tracy through the neck, killing him instantly. As a member of Narraguinip's band, The Sore Leg and others in the group had most likely been involved in the Pinhook fight and were not averse to shedding white blood.The Indians fled to the mouth of the Mancos River, where they threatened to kill or drive away all of the inhabitants living along the lower San Juan. Five days later, a detachment of twenty-four soldiers under Lieutenant Guilfoyle from Fort Lewis arrived and found everything tranquil, the Utes apparently not wanting a confrontation.* The fall and winter passed quietly as the Indians moved to their winter camps, but the spring of 1884 saw renewed activity. O n April 15 at Mitchell's store, flaring tempers on both sides resulted in the kifing of one Navajo and the wounding of two others. A group of Utes who had pitched camp nearby took advantage of the incident to ride four miles upriver to another trading post and tell two hired hands that a fight had broken out. The men fled the post, providing a wonderfiul opportunity for the Indians When Lieutenant J. to appropriate an estimated $2,400 worth of s~pplies.~ E Kreps arrived five days later, he found trading posts along the San Juan buttoned up and prepared for war. Edgar Owen Noland's post, eighteen miles above Mitchell's, had its doors and windows closed in preparation for a Ute attack.Three hours before the lieutenant's arrival Indians had ordered the trader to leave. Noland's wife departed for Mancos with an escort while Edgar prepared for the worst. At Mitchell's, where twenty-three cowboys defended the premises, the owner spoke of how both Utes and Navajos had fired at the white men, though little physical evidence indicated a skirmish. The lieutenant left a couple of soldiers to observe further developments and returned to Noland's, where the trader reported that Utes had fired at his establishment. Kreps came away believing that the area's Indians wanted to "kill the white gentile [non-Mormon] settlers" and that the Utes wanted plunder, while the Navajos wanted both plunder and revenge for the ' See Robert S. McPherson, "Navajos, Mormons, and Henry L. Mitchell: Cauldron of Conflict on the San Juan," Utah Historical Quarterly 55 (Winter 1987):50-65. T o l o n e l Stanley to Warren Patten,August 31, September 1 and 2,1883, Record Group 75, Bureau of Indian Affairs, Consolidated Ute Agency, Federal Records Center, Denver, Colorado Fereafter cited as Consol. Ute Agency]. Further investigation of this incident indicates that blame for the murder was later placed on a Navajo. Who actually killed Tracy is in question. See David M. Brugge's unpublished manuscript entitled "Navajo Use and Occupation of Lands North of the San Juan River in Present-day Utah," in author's possession. Major R . H. Hall to Assistant Adjutant General at Fort Leavenworth,April 18, 1884, Record Group 75, Letters Received, 1881-1907, Bureau of Indian Mairs, National Archives, Washington, D.C. bereafter cited as Letters Received-BIA] .


SOLDIER CROSSING

previous shootings.'O Perhaps the most interesting fact coming from the lieutenant's report was the number of cowboys in the region instantly willing to throw in for a scuffle against their common foe. Other reports of discontent filtered in. Two cattlemen told of how Navajos and Utes had killed no less than one hundred cows that spring, "actuated by pure deviltry, as the carcasses are usually untouched, save to cut out the tongue." The newspaper rendering this report by "Messrs. Adams and Ptolemy" continued: They saw two or three Indians of Narraguinip's band who were shot by the Rico boys in the fight at La Sal. One of them, an old buck, is minus two or three inches of one of his legs, which shortened as it healed. They have very little use for Rico [a mining camp in southwestern Colorado that provided a substantial number of men for the Pinhook fight]. Oscar Carter, of the West Dolores, told them he came from Rico, and every one of his Indian visitors left the camp instantly.The Narraguinip band is composed of renegades from the Uncompahgre, Paiutes, Navajos, and other tribes and are not recognized at any agency."

Warren Patten, the Southern Ute agent, had the responsibility of keeping track of this group and took the jabs of discontent when things went wrong. He must have just shrugged his shoulders when E. L. Stevens, acting commissioner of Indian Affairs, directed him to "take the necessary steps to have your Indians return to their reservation at once and remain there."12 Within three weeks of this directive, these Indians were embroiled in the Soldier Crossing incident. Sources on the Soldier Crossing conflict are fairly abundant and include accounts from Harold Carlisle, the military, and the Doloves News. But the most complete rendering of events was made by a Colorado cowboy named Sam Todd." (See page 194 for a photo of Todd.) He wrote about this fight in 1925, roughly forty years after the dust had settled. Most reminiscences written after such a lengthy intervening time span are questionable in terms of accuracy.This is not the case with Todd's. Its correspondence with contemporary reports, estimates of mileage, and internal details make his letter not only highly believable but also important in understanding the conduct of military operations in canyon country. This article depends heavily on this never-before-used source. The affair started simply enough. O n July 3 , 1884, a substantial group of 'O

Second Lieut.J. E Kreps to Post Adjutant at Fort Lewis, May 1,1884, Letters Received-BIA.

" Dolores News,June 28, 1884.

E. L. Stevens to Warren Patten, Esq., June 13, 1884, Consol. Ute Agency. Sam Todd to Glen Hanks, "A Pioneer Experience," March 2, 1925, 1-5, Utah State Historical Society, Salt Lake City, Utah (USHS). Sam Todd is an interesting character. Born in Missouri in 1854, he soon moved to Texas and worked there as a cowboy. By age eighteen he contracted tuberculosis; after a two-year bout with the disease he had a lung removed.Thereafier, he always wore a pad under his coat to compensate for the caved-in left side of his chest. In 1880, at the age of twenty-five, he moved to the Disappointment country of southwestern Colorado, where he continued to ranch. He lived in this area until 1925, when he and his wife moved to Burbank, California, for the last four years of his life; however, he returned to Cortez, Colorado, in 1929 long enough to breathe his last and be buried in the country that he knew and loved. See article about him in the Montexuma VaEleyJournal,April22,1987. l2

l3


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cowboys had assembled in an early summer roundup at the foot of Blue Mountain. Three combined outfits belonging to William "Billy" H. Wilson, Charles "Race Horse" Johnson, and the Carlisles were camped on the South Fork of Montezuma Creek (known today as Verdure Creek)." Johnson and Wilson, a one-armed Texan who had lost his appendage in a fight with Comanches, owned ranches in the Dolores area and grazed their herds on Blue Mountain.15The Carlisles had their headquarters about ten miles north of present-day Monticello. A group of Utes, some of whom had off-reservation passes signed by Agent Patten, were in the area to hunt. They were camped below the cowboys, and surprisingly enough, given past events, were invited to visit and eat with their white neighbors. During the interchange, the cowboys noticed the Indians had three horses belonging to Johnson and another to a cowboy named Joshua "Spud" Hudson, whose involvement in the Pinhook incident was well known. Four men went to the Indian camp to reclaim the livestock but met with resistance. As the cowboys attempted to cut out the horses from the Indian herd, a Ute named ~ i o o kdrove the horses back. Cowboy Hank Sharp attempted to get a rope on one of the horses, but according to white accounts, Brook drew his knife and stabbed two or three times at his antagonist, giving Sharp a slice on the neck. Whether this was more an attempt to cut the rope than to kill the cowboy no one will ever know, but there was enough provocation in the cowboy's mind to shoot the Ute in the mouth, with the bullet passing through his neck.16Brook lived, but he was not the only person to be wounded that day. The Utes took up positions near their camp and started firing while the women and children fled. The four cowboys retreated to their camp, sounded the alarm, and joined the others in gathering horses in the corral, hitching four large mules to a wagon to haul gear, and preparing to beat a hasty retreat. By this time, the Indians had surrounded the cowboys and were firing at the hustling men. Joseph H. Nielson, a Mormon from Bluff who was working in the camp at the time, grabbed Billy Wilson's two sons, ages eight and ten, and headed for a nearby gully.There they lay until the fighting ended. "Only a heavy hand on the neck of each curious lad kept his head from popping up each time a shot was fired.'"'These boys later l 4 James Monroe Redd clarifies exactly where the two groups were located: "The cowboys were camped on the top of the hill just aboveverdure where the dugway goes up. It's a pretty good road now. It used to be a narrow dirt road. The Utes were camped down inverdure where the Barton home is now"; James Monroe Redd, Jr., interview with Michael Hurst, February 15, 1973, p. 9, CRC-J4, Charles Redd Center for Western Studies,BrighamYoung University, Provo, Utah. Don D. Walker, "Cowboys, Indians, and Cavalry," Utah Historical Quarterly 34 (Summer 1966): 254-62,This article is an annotated letter written by Harold Carlisle eleven days after the fight and published in the Denver Republican on July 29. Rich in detail and contemporary when written, it is an important primary document. l6 Walker, "Cowboys, Indians, and Cavalry," 257; Cornelia Adams Perkins, Marian Gardner Nielson, and Lenora Butt Jones, Saga of Sun Juan (Salt Lake City: Mercury Publishing Company, 1968), 242; H. L. Mitchell to Warren Patten, July 8,1884, Consol. Ute Agency. " Perkins et al., Saga, 242. j5


SOLDIER CROSSING

made a twenty-nine-hour ride, without food or rest, back to Durango with the cowboys. Nielson took a separate route at night, fleeing down Montezuma Canyon to the San Juan River and back to Bluff, fearing that his involvement might antagonize the Utes against the settlers there.18 In the meantime, the cowboys heading to Colorado started up the hill from Verdure on what was then called the Bluff Road. Apparently, they abandoned two wagons and some equipment at their camp, while the third wagon only reached a place known as the "Salt Lick" (later named the Roundup Ground), two or three miles southwest ofverdure, before it too was 1ost.There the Utes, hiding in the clumps of oak brush that dotted the surrounding landscape, allowed the slow-moving vehicle, surrounded by the cowboys and many of their horses, to get within range. They then opened fire.The four mules were killed, and two men, a cook named Cook and Adolf Lusk, who had charge of the horses, were wounded in the foot and thigh respectively. The situation was desperate. With only seven rifles and the rest sixshooters, "most of them out of cartridges, having shot them away at deer for fun," the cowboys were in no position to resist.19The Utes, on the other hand, "wore new shirts and had new Winchesters and revolvers, bought in Durango with the money paid them as an annuity at Ignacio [Southern Ute Agency] by Agent Patten."20It was time for the white men to withdraw, leaving behind the wagon and the horses, a herd estimated at between 100 and 150. More than one cowboy lost the only horse he had and was obliged to ride double. The men made their way to the towns of southwestern Colorado, much exhausted and chagrined that they had once again been bested. The Utes picked through their booty, gathered their newly acquired horse herd, and began a leisurely move to the rough country west of Blue Mountain, a proven refuge during times of conflict. They left behind the remains of the burned wagon, "the old iron from which was scattered in the Roundup Ground for years after."21 Word spread quickly and generated varying reactions. The Mormons in Bluff were concerned about the possibility of escalating violence. Platte D. Lyman wrote in his diary, "During the past week a difficulty occurred between cowmen and Indians on the South Montezuma during which 2 Indians were killed and 2 white men wounded. This may yet lead to considerable trouble."22To the people of Colorado, this incident was one more example of Indian depredation and consequent threats to their financial investments.Their estimated 17,000 cattle were part of a two-million-dollar investment in the livestock industry, which was now "at the mercy of the '' Dolores News,July 12,1884; Lyman, "History of San Juan," 40. Lyman, "History of San Juan," 41;Todd,"APioneer Experience," 1; Dolores News, July 12,1884. Dolores News, July 12, 1884. *I Albert R. Lyman, The Outlaw of Navaho Mountain (Salt Lake City: Albert R. Lyman Trust, 1986), 55-56. ** Platte D. Lyman, "Diary of Platte D. Lyman," 76, Lee Library. l9

'O


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

I n d i a n ~ . "Circumstances ~~ were ripe for another showdown. This time, however, the military took charge. Capt. Henry I? Perrine with F Troop, Sixth Cavalry, left Fort Lewis with forty-nine men on July 6, the day after receiving the news. O n the way, he stopped at Dolores and asked for volunteers to help get the horses back. According to the newspapers, "eighty cowboys armed to the teeth and swearing vengeance against the Utes" departed for the battle. Military accounts are more modest and say that forty-five joined the military expedition. Sam Todd agrees more with the newspapers, estimating ninety. At least part of the cowboy force rendezvoused with the main body at Cross Canyon and selected Rube Lockett from Dolores as leader.24 O n July 7, Second Lieut. B. K.West left Fort Lewis with a detachment of thirty-five men of B Troop, Sixth Cavalry, to assist Captain Perrine. Perrine's troops reached the scene of the earlier fight on July 10, with West joining them three days later, bringing the total number of members of the retaliating force to no less than 130, with the possibility of as many as 175.25 The Utes were probably at not even half that strength, and many of their number were non-combatants. A contemporary estimates their "force from ~ ~ encumbered 75 to 100 strong under Narraguinip and M a r i a n ~ . "Being with women, children, and all their belongings, the Indians seemed to be at a distinct military disadvantage. O n the other hand, Perrine created a logistical problem with such a large force. Not only did he have to bring supplies for his own men but, according to Todd, he also told the civilian volunteers not to bring any supplies because his sixteen pack mules would carry plenty for everyone.We no one knew how long this expedition would take, the two weeks that it did require strained the supply resources for such a large group. Water, an even more precious commodity in this high desert environment, proved most critical. The same day that Perrine's force arrived at the site of the skirmish, Sergeant Christian Sof&e and eleven soldiers from B Company, 22d Infantry, on an unrelated mission to Mitchell's post, arrested five Utes who had been involved in the Verdure fight. He took their arms and horses, placing them in his custody because "several settlers on this river threaten to kill them on sight," and he felt he could protect them until they returned to the Southern Ute Reservation." Two days later, Red Jacket threatened an attack if the sergeant dld not release the prisoners to his custody, promising to bring them to Agent Patten. R e d Jacket, Topine, Johnny Benow, and Narraguinip, who was supposedly leading the main group, were among those demanding the prisoners' freedom. AU four of these men were notoDolores News)July 12,1884. Ibid.;Walker, "Cowboys, Indians, and Cavalry," 257; Dolores News, July 26,1884. 25 Walker, "Cowboys, Indians, and Cavalry," 257; Report of Col. L. P Bradley to Secretary of War, Report of the Secretary of the Interior, 2d Session, 4gth Congress, vol. 1,1884, p. 121. 26 Dolores News, July 26,1884. *' Sgt. Christian S o a e to Warren Patten, July 12,1884, Consol. Ute Agency. 23

24


SOLDIER CROSSING

rious for their parts in previous conflicts. FIGURE I . Routes of Utes and Once the sergeant learned that Captain so/diersthroughbeforeandafier Perrine's force was headed in another direc- Soldier Crossing fight, tion and there was no hope of assistance, he freed his prisoners.28 Agent Patten, in the meantime, had sent Chief Ignacio and other Southern Ute leaders to the western end of the reservation to ascertain if any of their people were involved in these conflicts or if it was just the band of renegades living around Blue Mountain whom the whites called "Paiutes."The agent wrote with satisfaction that he was convinced that his own charges were innocent, and as far as the Southern Utes were concerned, if these "Paiutes.. .all got killed, it will be a good thing."29Patten's desire to exonerate "his" Indians reflects more his desire to remain clean of accusation than total reality. No doubt many Southern Utes claimed no affiliation with the fleeing Indians, but there is also no doubt that others had strong links to Paiute ancestry and were members of the Utah group. Still, many Southern Utes professed innocence. Perhaps part of their denial sprang from an Interior Department letter supposedly received by a man in Durango named George W. Kephart "authorizing settlers to shoot any Indian seen attempting to join the renegades from the reser~ation.'"~

Letter, no name, to Warren Patten, Consol. Ute Agency, n.d., 1884. Warren Patten to H. Price, commissioner of Indian Affairs, July (blurred) 1884, Consol. Ute Agency. 30D010~es News, July 19,1884. 28

29


When Captain Perrine arrived at the scene Probable route of pursuit from of the fight, he found nine dead horses, eight the pushout lookina south. 1. The others wounded beyond use, and Billy Pushoutrim.2~So~ierroute, Wilson's dead mules. The trail of the Utes descends the hogback was easy to follow because it skirted around traversthe southern edge of Blue Mountain. Bloody ridge crest to the bark poultices used to dress wounds were left es thelowerno*hslopeofthe at various campsites. Harold Carlisle, who ridge, then breaks out southwest apparently was not accompanying the mili- onto the Cheesebox Canyon tary but was intimately connected to the benchm3.Charrediuniperstumps - . events, described what the soldiers found: next to trail, possib,y the trees"The band had traveled slowly, making about burned by the Ute rear guard. ten miles a day, camping in more than one a ~ i nbarking ~ place for t w ~ d a ~ s , ~ l cards, trees, and even making race tracks on the heads of Cottonwood and Indian Creeks, to test the metal (sic) . . of the stolen stock, and tendmg their wounded, as was shown by the rags littered about in their camping places."" Finally, the sheer number of horses, stolen or otherwise, as well as the goats the Utes herded along as a mobile source of food, left an indelible trail easily followed. Today this path is not as readily discerned. According to Albert R. Lyman, it was called the "Big Trail" or "Old Trail" and was a well-known thoroughfare that led westward into a maze of canyons, slickrock, and widely separated sources of water and campsites." Based on Todd's description of where the Utes went, a best-guess mapping of the trail would start in Verdure, cross upper Recapture Wash and Johnson Creek, then proceed to the Round Mountain-Mormon Pasture area on the divide between the San Juan River and Indian Creek drainages via a trail across what is now Bayles Ranch. From the Round Mountain area they traveled south along Elk Ridge through the Big and Little Notches to the Bear's Ears area on south Elk Ridge. At the springs or ponds near the northern end of the Bear's Ears, the Utes rested.They then moved northwest about ten miles to the vicinity of a small land formation now called the Pushout, thence off Elk Ridge to the north bench of Cheesebox Canyon and on to White I

Walker, "Cowboys, Indians, and Cavalry," 258. It is unclear whether the trail is a literary device invented by Lyman, a metaphor similar to the "warpath" of Hollywood movies, or an actual physical trail imbued by the Utes with legend and lore from previous defensive and offensive campaigns, as Lyman asserts. In any case, the Utes were undoubtedly following known and familiar trails, components of a vast and complex network of ancient trails that spanned the region. 31


SOLDIER CROSSING

Canyon, where the fight occurred. Once the military expedition left the springs at the base of the Bear's Ears and the aspens and ponderosa pines of Elk Ridge for the pinyon and juniper canyon country below, it would be terra incognita to the soldiers. Todd states that if the trail did not pass by water, the men planned to look for birds to find it, a risky proposition at best. As the pursuers sat astride their horses on the western rim of Elk Ridge, they spied two pillars of smoke about a half mile below and two Indians riding their ponies down the steep slope to the valley. Sam Todd believed these were signal fires to warn the main group. Harold Carlisle goes even further, suggesting that these two Indians were actually Southern Utes sent by Agent Patten to bring in any of his charges involved in the incident. Now they were serving as a rear guard and had ridden seventy-five miles at a rapid pace to warn the renegades. Patten and Ignacio, however, denied any knowledge that these two men were working in their employ. While Carlisle's thought appears to be mere conjecture, it does portray feelings of distrust toward the Indian Service in general and Agent Patten in particular. A large cloud of dust ten miles away revealed the Indians' encampment, and through binoculars the military could see them preparing to move.The steep, rough, mile-long descent off Elk Ridge took much longer than the cowboys and cavalry had anticipated.') By the time they reached the Indians' camp, their prey was long gone, as was the water they hoped to find. The Utes had availed themselves of rainwater trapped in a sandstone basin and then before departing had watered all of their stock. Todd explains, "From the tracks the goat herd had been watered last, and they had taken it all. (The goats they always took with them on the war trail, as they could out-travel a horse and could be eaten when the Utes were too busy to hunt.)")' The lack of water proved crucial. It was one o'clock on a hot July 14 afternoon, and temperatures in that country could easily rise to well over one hundred degrees. The soldiers had filled their canteens that morning but were now out of water. The cowboys had even less, and according to Todd they also complained less, although the soldiers did not share what they had. The horses suffered from lack of water even more, being 33 Identieing parts of this old Ute trail is difficult. In an attempt to tie Todd's account to the land, the authors spent two days looking for a likely trail off Elk Ridge. The most plausible route followed by the Utes and their pursuers in 1884 is now marked by a major, developed stock trail that heads in a corral on the rim of the Pushout and descends via a knife-like ridge with several level spots to the valley floor.This trail has been significantly improved and maintained over the years and remains in active use as a drive trail. Most other sections of the Pushout and adjoining lands that offer the view described by Todd are impassable or would be difficult to negotiate with packstock, as ledges, talus, dense vegetation, and rock walls would make movement very inconvenient or impossible.Todd's statement that two Utes a half mile away from the rim lit signal fires to warn the main body fits very nicely with the fact that a level bench is located approximately a half mile from the top of the ridge.The place is clearly visible from the likely Ute encampment on the Cheesebox/White Canyon bench to the southwest, and it offers an easy trail down to the valley floor for those who would have lit the fires. Two charred stumps next to the trail may be the trees mentioned in Todd's account. 34 Todd, "A Pioneer Experience," 2.


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

described as "wet with sweat after the first ten miles."35Although the heavy, six-foot-tall Todd had brought a second mount and changed horses every five miles, the rough canyon country took its toll on the animals. To compound the problem, there was 'no breeze to disperse the dust. As the gap between pursuer and pursued closed, the soldiers and cowboys rode in suspended dust clouds "like ashes" left by the fleeing Indians. The chase wore on. The Utes separated into three bands. Closest to the advancing white men was a group of six or seven men serving as a rear guard to fight a delaying action; two miles ahead rode the main body Location of unfired .50-70 caliber of armed men, and another four miles ahead of them were some men and the women and round cached along trail children driving livestock and hauling equipapproaching Piute Pass (see men^'^ Occasionally, a tired Indian pony note 40). Inset shows bullet as stood in the trail, so played out that it would found under overhanging not step aside until whipped with a quirt. The boulder, illuminated by late sight encouraged the pursuers. Captain afternoon sun. Perrine felt his prey was in his hand and at any moment he would close with the enemy. He followed relentlessly. Todd reports, "We thought we could surely catch them before sundown and kept at a hard gallop.. .. TThile we couldn't see them, we thought we were right at them and would catch them in a few One account tells of how an minutes. So it kept up all that aftern~on.")~ occasional shot or two from the Utes' trail element served to slow the soldiers' progress.)* Even with the passing of sundown, the pursuit continued. Not until total darkness made tracking over slickrock impossible did the exhausted pursuers get a rest. In the words of Sam Todd, "We tumbled off, layed [sic] down with the bridle reins in our hands, and lay there until the moon came up. [We then] took the trail again, a tired, thirsty, hungry outfit, [with] our horses suffering for water more than we were."" The pursuers followed the Utes across the inner gulch ofWhite Canyon at the location identified on modern maps as "Soldier Crossing." ~ r o m there, the chase turned northwest, following the southwest bench ofWhite Canyon along what Carlisle identified as the trail leading from Bluff City Ibid. Walker, "Cowboys, Indians, and Cavalry,"258. 37 Todd, "A Pioneer Experience," 2. 38 Lyman, The Outlaw ofNavaho Mountain, 59. 39 Todd,"A Pioneer Experience," 2. 35

36


SOLDIER CROSSING

to the Colorado River, today's Utah State Route 95.That road passes along the bench between the inner gorge ofWhite Canyon on the right and the massive, 1,500-foot-high, cliff-capped escarpment of Wingate Mesa on the lefi. Daylight found the pursuers between these geographical features, hot after the fleeing Indians. The trail soon lefi the White Canyon bench and climbed westward to the high, narrow mesa dividing White Canyon fiom Red Canyon. There the Utes positioned themselves for an ambush at what has since been called "Piute Pass," a narrow declivity through the caprock overlooking a steep, exposed talus slope.Todd describes the situation:

.

When full daylight came we were at the foot of this wall and the trail led to a narrow break in it, barely wide enough for one horse to go into. We halted, of course, to investigate.We knew we were close to them because for the last three miles we had found a number of give-out horses wet with sweat, and some of the last ones were still panting. And while we were talking, we heard a goat bleat just on top, and it was plain to us boys that we were in a trap. The Captain, however, said No, there was no trap and we must climb that mesa, but considering the necessity for water, we would halt and send a detail to hunt for a rain water tank.40

T h e halted command was now unsure what action to take. Joe Wormington, a civilian packer and scout for the military, volunteered to climb to the gap and see if he could determine the Indians' location. A young cowboy named James "Rowdy" Higgins anxiously joined him. He had lost his mother and father to Indian warfare as a child and often expressed his eagerness for revenge. Although members of the party warned of the possibility of a trap, every indication being that the Utes were waiting on top, the two men disregarded the cautions and started up the hill." When they approached to within seventy-five feet of the gap, the 40 Ibid. People who travel to the battle site will find the terrain formidable. The trail to Piute Pass is dimly etched in the land and is not associated with the recently re-bladed, rnid-twentieth-century uranium road that traverses another part of the slope at a gentler angle. After leaving the bench along which Highway 95 runs, the Utes' trail winds over a ridge with three step-like hills that ascend to the base of a steep talus slope approximately three hundred meters long. Ascending at a more than thirty-degree angle, the slope is covered with boulders, sagebrush, and pinyon and juniper trees.At the top of the talus slope is the low saddle in the seventy-foot-high rimrock through which Piute Pass slices.There is no level place at the top of the talus slope for the maneuver of units, and the trail traversing the talus is too steep for maneuvers. The aforementioned bladed road has cut through the pass and widened the gap, apparently obliterating the actual narrow defile where the old trail passed and significantly disturbing the site of the Utes' position. There are two interesting points for conjecture: First, two unfired .50-70 caliber bullets have been found along the trail, one between the White Canyon bench and the upper talus slope, the other in a protected location in the Ute position at the top of the t r d . These were made to be fired either by a U.S. Army Springfield rifle (obsolete but probably still in use in 1884) or by a Sharps rifle. The placement of the bullets suggests the possibility that they may have been put in position as defensive "medicine" to invoke supernatural power in defense against the pursuers. A second issue is how the Utes brought all of their livestock up such a steep slope and through the narrow defile. Most likely, they separated and tied into strings the large horse herd before leading them up the trail in groups. The ruggedness of the terrain would preclude herding so many animals en masse. 41 See Frank Silvey, "History and Settlement of Northern San Juan County," 44-45, Lee Library; Walker, "Cowboys, Indians, and Cavalry, 258; Lyman, Indians and Outlaws, 68; and Dolores News, August 2, 1884.


Utes opened fire. Higgins fell wounded but General view of ~ i u t ePass battle had enough strength to crawl to the protec- site looking south. 1, Ute position tion of a large boulder. Wormington, also atpass~2,ProbableU~S~position wounded, picked himself up and tried runin talus slope and grassy bench ning straight down the slope. Struck by a seclocation Of 3. ond volley, he tumbled head over heels before coming to rest with his head and shoulders Wormington and Higgins bodies down slope and his feet and legs against a 4. Location of cached .50-70 callarge - rock. Those below could not see his iber unfired rounds (see note 40). face, but as he lay unmoving they could hear 5. Modern bladed road. 6, him moan and say something ina~dible.'~ route from the Pushout via the Pandemonium struck the soldiers below. CheeseboWhite Canyon bench. T h e Utes' attention now focused on a swirling tangle of men and horses. They fired Do"ed lines indicate inferred round afier round, tearing up the ground but routes. hitting only Todd7s horse. Bunched together in the confusion, the mass of men should have made an easy target. In retrospect,Todd found it difficult to explain how so many shots could miss so many people, unless the Indians were just shooting at the clump of men without picking out specific targets. Some of the cowboys and soldiers were in such a panic that they fled without their horses, "the crowd tearing down the hill to a bunch of cedars for shelter." They left seven saddled horses behind, a dangerous act, given their situation. Others, more determined, took the time to lead their horses over the rough, rocky terrain to protective cover. Once under cover, the cowboys and cavalry safeguarded the extra horses, the pack train, and the soldiers' mounts in the rear while maintaining fire on the gap and its surrounding area. The Indians still had the upper hand. Lying flat on the rocks above, they were invisible to those below. The steadiness of aim that they lacked at the beginning of the fight was now replaced with accurate range estimation and an ability to " [shoot] close at whatever they could see, so that a hat held up on a stick was sure to get a hole in it.7743 Walker, "Cowboys, Indians, and Cavalry," 258;Todd, "A Pioneer Experience," 2. Todd, "A Pioneer Experience," 3.While the battlefield has been picked over by visitors to the site, the evidence found on the site (now in private hands) gives an indication of how both sides were armed. The 42

43


SOLDIER CROSSING

Pm111bJe mute ofcal~3ry

Captain Perrine faced three major prob- ~ 1 ~ ~ ~ ~ 2 B a f t l e s i t e a n d lems. The first was the two wounded men on ~ ~ r r ~area. ~ ~ ~ i n g the slope. According to a later newspaper account, he tried without success to find volunteers who would follow him up the exposed slope to retrieve the ~ o u n d e d . ~ ~ A r o unine n d o'clock that morning, with the sun baking the landscape, Wormington stopped his groaning and breathed his last. The soldiers turned their binoculars on Higgins, who lay gasping for air. His pale face and labored breathing were the only signs of life, and by noon he was dead, too. As the men lay dying, Mancos Jim took advantage of the situation to amuse his people and taunt the soldiers below. He would jump up on the rock face, dance around and holler, "Oh my God, boys, come and help me" or "Oh my God, boys, a drink of water," mimiclung the cries of the wounded that the Indians could hear so clearly because of their close proximity." No doubt these antics were met with a shower of lead but without effect. A short while later, Mancos Jim repeated his performance-Thus the day wore on. Captain Perrine's second problem was water. Afier his men had spent a day and a half of heavy exertion and fear in blistering heat, the situation soldiers carried .45-70 caliber trapdoor Spring6eld carbines with a ma%imumeffective range of 500 yards. The cowboys had .44-40 Winchester center-fire rifles with a maximum effective range of 200 yards. The standing operating procedure for soldiers at this time was for each man to carry sixty rounds on his person and sixty rounds in his saddlebag. T h e Utes had a greater variety of rifles, including at least a .45-60 caliber Winchester, a .44-40 Winchester, a Henry rifle, and a Sharps.This analysis is based on the ten pounds of lead and the shell casings found at the site. Obviously, there also would have been other types of firearms involved in the fracas. 44 Dolores News, August 2, 1884. 45 Ibid.


had turned desperate. No one in the party Wew east to Elk Ridge from the knew the country well enough to locate any Ute9sposjtionatpiute Pass. 1. of the several small springs that lay hidden of Amy troops and within a few miles of their position, and there volunteers. 2. Soldier Crossing. were no birds in the area to lead them to water. The nearest sure source was the one 3. CheeseboxrWhiteCanyon left behind at the foot of the Bear's Ears, and bench route of pursuit. 4. The that was twenty straight-line miles distant in a pushout. 5. Bear's Ears. land where nothing is straight-line and in a direction that was mostly uphill. AU the men could talk about was water. As the shadows lengthened in the canyon, Captain Perrine faced his third concern. He knew the Indians enjoyed an intimate knowledge of the land and he did not. If his troops were to be flanked and perhaps driven from the rocks and trees at the foot of the trail, the situation could degenerate into a chaotic rout, especially if the engagement took place at night. To prevent this from happening and with the idea of retrieving their fallen comrades, the soldiers agreed to sight their rifles in on the gap during the day so that at night they could maintain a steady fire that would deny the Utes the opportunity to descend from the pass. Under this covering fire and protected by darkness, four of the cowboys, including Sam Todd, would move up the slope and retrieve the two bodies. Following that, the plan was to retreat. As the four cowboy volunteers quietly crawled over the trail on the bare, rock-strewn hill, Todd heard a noise. He turned to his companions to find they had disappeared and that seven Indians were coming up behind him along the path, each leading one of the saddled horses left earlier that day. Todd dropped off the side of the trail and lay flat, watching the Indians clearly silhouetted against the night sky. Alone, he slithered toward Higgins's body, only to find the Indians stripping it. Moving to Wormington's location, he found more Utes going through the same


SOLDIER CROSSING

The view southeast downslope across the U.S. position from the Ute position on the mesa. The grassy bench at high center marks the approximate maximum effective range of the military .45-70 rifles. The road visible at lower and upper right was bladed during the mid-1900s.

process. There was also a dog sniffing around that started to growl. Todd knew that he could "do no good" and, if detected, could fire only a few shots before the muzzle flash gave away his position and all was over. He slowly picked his way back down the hill. When he returned to the perimeter, he learned that his companions had heard the horses coming, feared calling ahead and thus giving away their position, and moved off the trail to lay low. Oblivious to the danger, Todd had made his way up the trail. His companions had returned to safety, assuming that he would also recognize the danger and come back down. All during this time, the force maintained a steady volume of fire on Piute Pass. How the Indians had managed to get through it was a mystery. To the captain, this was bad news.The Indians had apparently descended by another route to collect the horses, a situation that signaled the very high risk of a flanking attack. If the Utes gained control of the trail to his rear and stood between him and water, all could perish. He ordered everything hastily packed and prepared for movement, so that by ten o'clock the column, frazzled and parched from two days of stress, got underway. Fear was still a factor. Four hours into the retreat, a man named Joe McGrew became deathly sick, most likely from dehydration and exhaustion. As Todd called for assistance, McGrew fell from his horse and had to be carried to the side of the trail.The sergeant of the troop asked what was wrong then told the men to tie the sick cowboy onto his saddle and continue, explaining, "[We] can't delay the whole command or a part of it here in a hostile country:' to which Todd replied, "Sergeant, we have quit and are no longer under command."46An hour's rest put McGrew and his companions back on their horses, and by eight in the morning they had caught up to the retreating column as it climbed back up on Elk Ridge. By then, the Utes were headed in the opposite direction. According to Albert R. Lyman, who based his history on reports of Bluff cattlemen, at least some of the Indians followed the Old Trail across Red Canyon and thence across North Gulch (now Moki Canyon) via a large sand slide to 4h

Todd, "A Pioneer Experience," 4.


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

the Pagahrit, a natural lake in Lake Canyon. There they camped for a time, celebrating their victory. Then, leaving behind their wickiups and a scattering of dead and wounded cattle belonging to the Bluff Mormons, they eventually made their way southward across the San Juan River to the isolation of Navajo Mountain." Three hours after the military rode on top of Elk Ridge, they reached the spring at the base of the Bear's Ears, where they "drank and drank. As soon as the men had drank all they wanted, they began to tumble over and go to sleep."48A lone sentry, who was himself groggy, had the responsibility of keeping watch. Around two o'clock, Todd awakened him by letting him know that Mancos Jim was coming. Suddenly, the half-asleep man sprang to life and had to be reassured that it was a false alarm. The men now discovered that the packs containing all of the provisions had somehow been lost. All that was available were two jars of pickles donated by Captain Perrine. His willingness to share was admirable, but given the fact that no one had eaten in two or three days, his offer did not go very far. As for Todd, he was not "pickle hungry.'' The group next moved to Johnson Creek at the foot of Blue Mountain, where they located five stray cattle belonging to "Racehorse" Johnson. The men killed two steers, slunned them, and cut the meat off in slabs, "every fellow having a stick with a chunk of meat roasting on it.. .. In less than an hour after the animal was dead, it was eaten up."49The party camped there that evening and then moved on toward Colorado. But problems for Todd had not ended. At Paiute Springs, east of presentday Monticello, he let his crippled horse go with the idea of retrieving it when it had healed. His other mount was played out and could not keep up with the returning column, so Todd dismounted and led it. Eventually, a cowboy, Mike O'Donnel, noticed Todd's absence and decided to turn back to see if there was a problem. He notified Perrine that he was going to search for his friend, to which the captain replied, "I forbid it.We are still in hostile country and if he stopped to monkey with that crippled horse, it is

47 Lyman, The Outlaw o f Navaho Mountain, 62. Lyman suggests that the Ute trail led across Mossback Mesa before "skirting the Colorado River" via Red Canyon. This is probably an error on his part, based on the mistaken impression that the scarp at Piute Pass is part of Mossback Mesa, which actually lies miles to the south, beyond Fry Canyon. A much more likely route leads directly southwest from Piute Pass across Red Canyon to the Moki Canyon sandslide via Mancos Mesa. The Ute trail across the Moki Canyon sandslide was inferred by Lyman's informants from the later discovery there by Bluff stockmen of a pocket watch, believed to have been taken from one of the Piute Pass victims and dropped on the trail by the Utes (see Albert R. Lyman, Indians and Outlaws (Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1962), 68. No independent evidence supports that inference. Lake Pagahrit, or Hermit Lake, was an ancient natural reservoir formed behind a massive falling dune in the drainage now known as Lake Canyon. This was a favorite camp area for both native people and Anglo stockmen prior to the failure of the dam and the emptying of the lake in 1915 following several decades of severe impacts from cattle grazing. See David A. Miller, Hole in the Rock (Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, 1959), 133, and photographs following 112. 4Todd,"A Pioneer Experience," 4. 4y Ibid., 5.


SOLDIER CROSSING

his own look out." O'Donnel replied, "All right, I am quitting your command 0'Donne1 and Todd eventually worked their way back into Dolores after a series of adventures that strengthened their friendship in years to come. In the meantime, Perrine's cavalry headed south to Mitchell's trading post on the San Juan River to assist in the peacekeeping efforts there. Lieutenant West's B Troop was dispatched back to Fort Lewis, and Perrine's F Troop established a summer encampment on Looking northwest across the the Juan.51 U.S. position from the southern At least some of the civilian participants grassy bench, at the approximate blamed Captain Perrine and the army for the maximum range of the army,s Piute Pass debacle. Although some of the following statements would later be retracted, ,4570 rifles. The white line shows the initial report in the Dolores N e w s suggests the approximate route of the trajl, the feelings that many Colorado settlers felt and the ellipse indicates the toward their supposed protectors. The paper probableareawhere Wormington portrayed the soldiers as afraid to fight, stay- andHiggins died. ing "in camp a mile and a half back until after dark" and not rendering any assistance to the cowboys.The Colorado men, on the other hand, "all day long.. .had kept the red devils from the bodies and hoped under cover of darkness to get them." Following the fight,

an

the cowboys left for home [and] were ~ o i n e dby the gentlemen in brass buttons and the little pleasure trip was over. ...With the soldiers, who did not care to be left alone and unprotected in Indian country, they turned their faces from the field and their heels to the foe and are now rounding up cattle on their respective ranges.The soldiers returned to Fort Lewis, where they will continue to play penny ante while the bones of their scout lie bleaching under the hot rays of the Utah sun and his slayers go unpunished and unp~rsued.~'

A week later the Dolores News had changed its pitch. In one article, the Ibid. Maj. R . H. Hall, Twenty-second Infantry, Fort Lewis Post Returns, October 1878 to August 1891, Returns from tJ S. Military Postr from 1800 to 191 6, Microfilm Roll 624, National Archives, washington, D.C. 52 Dolores News, July 26, 1884. 51


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

paper noted that part of the force involved in the fight had just returned to Fort Lewis (West's unit) while another part was camped in the Mancos Canyon area (Perrine's F Troop) to prevent further depredations. It went on to say that Mitchell and others living along the San Juan River had been ordered to leave because of the Indians' soured attitude. The Utes had "sworn vengeance on these families."53 A second article was apologetic to the d t a r y . George West, a well-known cattleman and participant in the fight, provided his views to the paper. He spoke to the issue of "the bravery of an army officer who was blamed by many for seeming cowardicel'West felt the terrain had dictated the outcome of the battle, that Perrine had acted prudently and led by example. Amongst the "[deafening] war whoops and 'lu-yi-ing' of the Indians which they kept up for a long time," the commander had done what he could. When he saw that his scout was shot, he "repeatedly exposed himself in his efforts to induce his men to do some execution and finally called for volunteers to follow him to the point where Wormington was dying. Not a man stepped out and it would have been certain death to every man who went up the hill. Perrine said he would ask no man to go where he himself would not go and that he would lead in person." Certainly, nothing more could have been asked of him as a leader, the article implied.54 The newspaper account closed by noting that two companies from Fort Wingate, two from "the new cantonment on the San Juan," and another one from Fort Lewis were heading after the Utes. Armed with Gatling guns, these five well-equipped companies set out to punish the miscreants. They met with no success if this report is true. West was correct when he said he believed it ineffective to chase the Indians in their own territory. He felt it was better "to kill every Indian on the range or else give up the Some cowboys took this idea to heart when two weeks later they lulled three Indians encountered on the range, or as the paper said, "turned [the Utes'] mud-hooks to the primrose^."^^ A year later, on June 19, 1885, a family of Utes hunting off the reservation would be murdered by unknown assailants as they slept at Beaver Creek, color ad^.^^ In the same article, the editor discussed how reports were surfacing of large numbers of Indians collecting at Navajo Mountain in preparation for a raid. Navajo Agent John H. Bowman had gone to that area to arrest a Navajo man but found he had taken refuge with a band of Utes who defiantly prevented the Navajo's arrest. Most likely, these were some of the same group that had participated in the Soldier Crossing incident. At the same time, Billy Wilson was in the midst of rounding up cattle around Blue Ibid., August 2,1884. Ibid. 55 Ibid. 56 Dolores News, August 30, 1884. 57 "Southern Ute Agency Report," Report Exec. Doc. 1,241. 53

54

of the Secretary of the Interior, lstSession, 4Yh Congress, H. R.,


SOLDIER CROSSING

Mountain under the protection of a cavalry escort. From Wilson's perspective, the Utes had learned that "their agent is powerless to restrain them; that the government takes but little notice apparently of their movements; that in every fight with the whites they have so far come off victorious and they have therefore resolved to do on the frontier about as they have a mind."58 As for Agent Patten, his concerns were over. In September, the Southern Utes received a new agent,William H. Clark, a former special agent of the Interior Department. He certainly could not have had any false hopes about keeping the Indians on their reservation when he read Secretary of the Interior H. M. Teller's response to the petition sent by the residents of southwestern Colorado. Briefly, Teller said that there was little that he, his agent, or the military could really do to ensure the Utes would remain on their 110-mile-long, fifteen-mile-wide reservation. Teller complained that he had predicted the current problems back in 1880 and had therefore encouraged removal and that now his prophetic advice was being realized. He was not authorized to reimburse for losses, and he recommended that citizens contact their elected congressional representatives. In the interim, the d t a r y at Fort Lewis would remain in the field and he would appoint a local citizen to work at the agency "to keep the Indians on their reservation," but he also understood the enormity of the task.59Indeed, the Utes would continue to harass the whites for another forty years. Why was containing this band so difficult?What had gone wrong for the army-and right for the Utes-at Soldier Crossing? A contemporary acronym, METT-T (Mission, Enemy, Terrain, Troops, and Time) summarizes some major principles to consider. From the outset, Perrine had a &fficult mission. Since hostilities had already commenced, his undertaking to retrieve the stolen stock and return the Utes to the reservation was questionable. He might be able to capture the livestock, but to bring in this group of Indians who were not on the best of terms with the other Southern Utes, who had never been on a reservation, and who could see its limitations, was aslung a great deal. Had he clearly understood the complexity of his task, Captain Perrine could never have believed that he would be successful in bringing this band of Utes to the Southern Ute Reservation. He faced a formidable enemy. The Utes knew the land and its resources intimately. They used its natural medicines to heal their wounded, knew where to locate water and food, traveled familiar trails, denied their enemy access to water, and selected the battlefield of their choice. In a phrase, they were fighting in their own "backyard." Mobility also played a key role in their logistical plans. Goats provided a portable source of food when hunting became impractical, and the warriors' mobility increased when they captured the large horse herd from 58 59

Ibid.;John H. Bowman to Warren Patten,August 26,1884, Consol. Ute Agency. Dolores News, October 18,1884.


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which they could draw fresh mounts as necessary. Armed with new Winchester rifles and sufficient ammunition at the outset, they also recovered battlefield weapons, taking their enemy's equipment from the fight in Verdure and likely procuring additional ammunition from the seven horses captured at Soldier Crossing. O n e also wonders where the missing provisions on the sixteen pack mules ended up. The Indians used sound tactical doctrine for the running engagement. They left rear security to watch for the approach of the cavalry and to provide long distance warnings (smoke signals) at the enemies' approach. Once they spotted their foe, the Utes task-organized their formation with a rear guard to give the primary fighting force time and flexibility to develop and then exploit the situation. The non-combatants and livestock had the greatest opportunity to escape if necessary. Because of the terrain, the pursuing force could not flank the enemy. High canyon walls, narrow trails, deep valleys and drainages, and the pursuers' general unfamiliarity with the region ensured the Utes' freedom from entrapment. O n the other hand, the Indians' selection of Piute Pass for an engagement was brilliant. Just as the Greek king Leonidas chose the pass at Thermopylae during the Persian War, so too did the Utes select their defensive position well. By using key terrain that provided an observation point, cover, concealment, a selected avenue of approach that could not be flanked, and good fields of fire, the Indians dictated the terms of battle. N o matter how many soldiers the enemy could muster, a handful of determined warriors with sufficient ammunition could deny them access to the pass. Indeed, given the logistical problems, large numbers of soldiers were more of a liability than an asset. In addition to the already-mentioned geographical features, the cowboys and cavalry had other concerns. First was the heat. Men and horses, if not well-watered and rested, become subject to heat stroke and heat exhaustion, as John McGrew and others learned all too well. Todd's account is particularly helpful in noting the effects of heat and the lack of food, rest, and water. While water was uppermost in the men's minds, and rightly so, current studies show that even though appetites may not be robust in hot weather, the intake of food is still essential because of the energy and nutrients burned and sweated out during heavy exertion. The pursuers did not eat for almost three days. Perrine's suggestion that he could supply such a large force with his sixteen pack mules seems slightly presumptuous, if not naive. He certainly underestimated the difficulty of his task and the strategic advantage held by the Utes, and he may have assumed that he could achieve his objectives in a very short time. Haste seems to have been a primary concern. Perhaps, like General George Crook in the Apache wars being waged at the same time, Perrine hoped to gain mobility by not being tied to wagons and field howitzers too cumbersome for efficient trail pursuit. That should not have precluded the cowboys from provisioning themselves with their own


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supplies and pack stock, however, or the army from pre-positioning supplies at accessible points along the way, at least at Verdure or Paiute Springs. At the same time, each of the men should have kept individual rations in his saddlebag-hard tack, salt bacon, dried beans, jerky, or other easily transportable foods. Standard rations for field soldiers at this time were three quarters of a pound of meat and one pound of hard tack per day for five days.60If Perrine had supplied even this, his men could have sustained themselves better in the field. The necessity of water is so apparent in Todd's account that it hardly needs repeating. Without sufficient water containers and not knowing the location of nearby springs, Perrine charged into a situation of grave danger. There were at least three springs within a three-mile radius of Soldier Crossing, but the notion of watching birds to locate water is for the birds, not for men in c0mbat.A well-protected scouting party or two would have increased the chances of finding water. He did send out men to look for water, but accounts give the impression that these were short sallies and obviously ineffective. The necessity to move during the day in order to track the Indians added to the problem of thirst, while the apparent breakneck speed Perrine maintained in the belief that he was about to overtake the enemy created a killer pace.Varying terrain and circumstances dictate how far and fast a cavalry unit can travel, but a general figure of twenty d e s per day was used by the military at the time." Perrine's command far surpassed the suggested rate of travel. His men rode from Durango to Cross Canyon'Verdure, Elk Ridge, the Bear's Ears, the Pushout, and then Soldier Crossing, a distance of about two hundred miles, in less than a week. He averaged more than thirty miles a day. Little wonder the horses were exhausted. T h e troops that served under Perrine were a mixed lot. Personal accounts as well as those in the newspaper give a clear impression that there was no love lost between the military and civilian factions. The soldiers' not sharing water, the sergeant's and captain's insensibility to the care of some of the men, and the quick response of "I'm no longer under your command" show all too well the brittle relations formed between the two. This is further illustrated by how quickly the Dolores N e w s attacked the military with its "penny ante" statement and portrayed them as cowardly. A coalition of this sort, raised in the heated aftermath of the Verdure fight, offered little time to work out rules of order. The cowboys elected Rube Lockett as their leader, but little is said of his personality and his role in interacting with the military. All accounts, civilian and military, leave no doubt that the captain was in charge.Yet many of these cowboys had also been involved in the Pinhook fight, and at one point those men had 60DonRickey, Jr., Forty Miles a Day on Beans and Hay: The Enlisted Soldier Fighting the Indian Wars (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1963):220-21. '' Ibid., 244.


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actually drawn their guns against the military.62No doubt Perrine had to walk a fine line. Both soldiers and civilians appeared to share one common characteristic: When they got tired, discipline relaxed. Men falling out of the saddle and going to sleep, the siesta around the springs at the Bear's Ears,Wormington and Higgins scouting ahead against the advice of others, and posted guards falling asleep speak not only of exhaustion but also of a poor system for maintaining sufficient security. One wonders what would have happened if the false alarm of "Here comes Mancos Jim" had been true. If the Utes had pursued the retreating force and caught them at the watering hole, there could have been an even greater tragedy. Time, the last principle, was also an important factor on the Indians' side. The whites' haste in forming the posse, developing plans, and moving the expedition contrasts sharply with the Utes' travel of ten miles per day, which allowed for recreation and recuperation. By the time the pursuers reached the pursued, they were physically exhausted while their enemy was more rested. The lack of food and water also gave urgency to a quick decisive action rather than a slower, prolonged campaign. The Indians' knowledge of water and resources in their country gave them the ability, if they chose, to sit on top of Piute Pass indefinitely. Behind the long escarpment in which they hid lay a desert with springs, seeps, and intermittent streams to provide their needs. Thus, from a military standpoint, there is little question why the Indians triumphed over the cavalry. As 1884 drew to a close, a great deal of dissatisfaction rankled the people in the Four Corners region. The ranchers were still losing stock to the Utes. Edmund Carlisle, working with Agent Clark, sought redress. Three months of claims investigation did not provide much comfort, so Carlisle wrote a letter on December 30 complaining that he had lost more than 150 horses to theft and had recovered only thirteen. As for the estimated 750 cattle he had lost, he entertained no more hope of getting them back than he did the "company outfits which the employees were driven to abandon on account of the presence of these Indian~."~~ Time would show that the Carlisles received little recompense for their losses. The government would not gain much satisfaction either. The huge geographical area was too vast to allow for a concentrated effort against a vaporous target. The Ute and Navajo reservations provided refuge for the Indians in time of need, while the isolation of the Blue, La Sal, and Navajo Mountain regions, with all of the intervening canyon country, provided a series of escape options. Jurisdictional concerns between Indian agents, a high rate of agent turnover, and disagreements with civilian factions added to the conflict. Lack of funding for reservation improvements and a shortage of supplies for the Indians encouraged the "renegade band" in 62 63

Salmon and McPherson, "Cowboys, Indians, and Conflict," 25. Edmund S. Carlisle t o m M. Clark, December 30,1884, Consol. Ute Agency.


SOLDIER CROSSING

southeastern Utah to remain free from government control. Even the more pacific Utes who lived on the reservation had to hunt off the reservation in order to survive. Col. L. l? Bradley, commander of the 13th Infantry, noted in 1885 that the Utes were issued only one pound of beef and three and one-half pounds of flour per person per week; even when supplemented, this was less than two-thirds of one full ration. He "urged that the proper steps be taken to secure a full supply of food for the Utes as the surest means of preventing hostilities between them and the whites."64 It was a long time before others heeded his advice. Even the victorious Utes were not terribly happy. True, they had sent a second, strong message that the white invaders should steer clear of Ute lands. But they could not have missed the ever-increasing numbers of settlers, ranchers, and livestock coming into their territory. The probability that they would eventually lose their lands became more and more evident. Towns, with all of their attendant economic development, sprang up where only sagebrush, piiion, and juniper had been: Monticello (1887), Aneth (1895), and Blanding (1905). More anger, frustration, and death lay ahead in the years to come. Not until 1923 with the concluding "Posey War" did the question of control receive its final answer. After that, all the Utes could do was recall past victory, applying the memory of the fights at Pinhook and Soldier crossing as a soothing balm. In 1984 one hundred Utes-men, women, and children-visited the site to commemorate their heritage. Myers Cantsee, son of Scottie Cantsee, a participant in the battle, recounted his father's views. Following the program, Ute community members of White Mesa participated in chanting their traditional songs, old men danced the victory dance, and people hiked the trail at Piute Pass.65 Nearby lay the bones ofworrnington and Higgins. Bleached by the sun for almost two years, their remains had been gathered by two prospectors, Cass Hite and Joe Duckett, and moved almost three miles from where they had fallen to their final resting place near the White Canyon ford at Soldier Crossing. Later, a cowboy built a pole fence around the grave; in 1930 a group of Boy Scouts constructed a wood and wire fence, and in 1954 a painted fence was erected with a small sign commemorating the events? Now, only an occasional tourist traveling down the paved highway heading for Lake Powell stops to stretch and wonder about these two lonely men left by their comrades on the battlefield. Their burial site testifies to the difficulty of conducting military operations against an indigenous foe in canyon country.

"Report of Colonel Bradley," Report of the Secretary of War, 1" Session, 4Yh Congress, vol. 1,1885,161. SanJuan Record, October 31,1984. " Clarence Rogers, addendum to SamToddYs"A Pioneer Experience," July 29,1965, USHS. 64

"


Navajo Lijeways: Contemporary Issues, Ancient Knowledge By Maureen Trudelle Schwarz (Norman:University of Oklahoma Press, 2001. xix + 265 pp. $29.95.)

Navajo Lijeways: Contemporary Issues, Ancient Knowledge is a collection of six essays and a philosophical introduction bound together by the complementarity of contemporary issues and ancient Dink knowledge. The author, Maureen Trudelle Schwarz, provides a close look at six events or ongoing situations of major interest that occurred within the Navajo Nation in the 1990s. She illuminates each event and situation with a traditional Navajo perspective based on ancient and timeless tenets of Dine philosophy. She juxtaposes current western perspectives with current Navajo perspectives and provides origin points through oral histories for the Navajo perspectives. A common practice of non-Indians writing about Indian philosophical issues is to place more credence on writers who have passed the fifw-year test-that is, who have been in print for more than fifty years. Present-day native philosophers often express frustration that their own words are not taken seriously in the academic world. Schwarz has spent time on the Navajo Nation and has interviewed contemporary Navajo historians, anthropologists, storytellers and ceremonial practitioners. She allows the thinking and explanations of present-day Navajo consultants, teachers, and spiritual leaders to provide focus and articulation to each selected issue. Using the Navajo perspective, she has written a book that will be of interest to Navajo and non-Navajo alike. Navajo readers will enjoy the way in whlch everyday thinlang is tied to the ceremonial and spiritual practices. Non-Navajo readers will gain insight into the Navajo perspective of relating contemporary life issues to ancient and ongoing ceremonial practices. Schwarz's dual approach of contemporary issues and ancient yet ongoing perspective has seldom been employed to illuminate present-day Navajo living. The title of her book, Navajo Lijeways, expresses a current way of living, but the use of the word lifeways ties her explanations to Navajo ceremonials, which are often translated as "ways7'-as in Blessingway, Enemyway, Protectionway, and Shootingway-since they are not static but are rather active processes that interrelate current problems or situations with the happenings of ancient oral history. The book is introduced by the words of Navajo storyteller Sunny Dooley, who translates the words of ancient origin stories in her poetic rendering of the creation. She speaks of the


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Emergence of Navajo People into the world of today, closing with: Like in the beginning What was ordered and careful Became chaos and scattered And Comes back into place only when The spoken words are spun into existence

This song/poem becomes the touchstone of Schwarz's discussion of current Navajo issues. In an enlightening introduction, she retells highlights of the Navajo origin stories, building a platform from which to explain the importance of oral traditions "in shaping Navajo understandings of problems and situations." She simplifies a very complex process of cosmic interrelationships for the nonNavajo reader, at the same time using sophisticated academic words to clarify her interpretation of her consultants' remarks. Her explanation of a Navajo core worldview as "a parakgm for ritual action and use of space, structured on homology, complementarity and synecdoche,'' may send the casual reader to the dictionary, but her use of words is clarifying and illuminating for the academic reader. Her attempt to explain the Navajo perspective of history as an ongoing process of "what is constantly in the making" would be understood by Navajos in juxtaposition to the Euro-American emphasis on "objectified representation of knowledge about reality.'' The six main chapters encompass six issues of major interest that occurred in the 1990s, with a discussion of a primary element of Navajo philosophy in each chapter. Beginning with an analysis of the Hantavirus episodes of 1993 and a discussion of the forced Navajo relocation issues, continuing with the visitation of the Holy People to a remote area of the reservation in 1996 and occurrences of snakes in the women's restroom in Window Rock, Schwarz analyzes each issue in terms of Navajo conceptions of holistic healing, personhood, gender, and relationship with the land. Concluding with chapters on activism expressed through emotional expression and problem drinking, she addresses concepts of reciprocal relationship and harmony. Schwarz concludes her book with a discussion of how the analysis and implementation of differing levels of interpretation of Navajo traditional stories with their encoded insights contribute to the creative adaptation of traditional knowledge to the challenges faced today. I would highly recommend this book to anyone interested in the Navajo perspective of life as it appears in the late twentieth


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century and continues on into the twenty-first century. I might caution readers, however, that traditional Din6 philosophy based on oral history is extremely complex, and although Schwarz makes a highly credible attempt to explain it in a single book, encoding it as a charter for living, it is a cosmic process of interrelationshlps not easily understood in a lifetime. Schwarz uses her consultants as highly respected holders of knowledge but still frames her book through a Euro-American perspective. Her reliance on the concept of "metaphor" might well be contested by many traditional knowledge holders, who would prefer to characterize their belief system as reality. NANCY C. MARYBOY Shonto Preparatory School Shonto, Arizona

A Homeland in the West: UtahJews Remember By Eileen Hallet Stone (Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, 2001. xvi + 500 pp. $39.95.)

DESPITE THE IRONY of being considered "gentiles" in predominantly Mormon Utah, Jews made significant contributions to the political, economic, and social development of the state. Most were immigrants, first from Central Europe and later from Eastern Europe, who had joined in the great migration, attracted by the promise of Golden America. Propelled largely by anti-Semitism, poverty, and religious and economic restrictions in Germany, Russia, and Poland, they came in search of a different life that would offer them and their children new opportunities. In A Homeland in the West: Utah Jews Remember, writer Eileen Hallet Stone skillfully weaves together more than sixty-five memoirs and oral histories to tell the remarkable story of these resourceful men and women. Despite great odds, they managed to carve out a productive life in an alien culture while holding on to their Jewish heritage through the founding of synagogues and religious schools and the observance, at least on some level, of Jewish rituals. Most of the early Jews in Utah followed the familiar path of German and Eastern European Jewish immigrants in America, often beginning as peddlers, moving on to become shopkeepers after amassing the necessary capital, and in a few cases achieving significant success as merchant princes. Julius and Fannie Brooks, Utah's first documented Jewish couple, operated a string of businesses. Stone presents a lively memoir written by the daughter of Julius and Fannie that graphically illustrates the perseverance and


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creativity of these early pioneers. A few, like Simon Bamberger, achieved financial success through venues such as mining and railroad interests. In 1917, Bamberger was elected Utah's only Jewish governor, but several other Jews also achieved political prominence, including Louis Marcus, mayor of Salt Lake City. Excerpts from Bamberger's memoirs and inaugural speech demonstrate the vision and talent of t h s German immigrant who made Utah his home. Many of the early pioneers developed at least a working elationship with Mormon leaders, including Brigham Young. For the most part, Jews and Mormons lived in relative harmony, but relations were sometimes strained, as they were during a Mormon boycott of "gentile" businesses. This was the case vis-i-vis the Auerbach brothers, who had opened their first store in Salt Lake City in 1864 and by 1883 saw the worth of their business grow to half a million dollars. Stone's book not only covers the lives of early pioneers but also moves forward chronologically and ends with an interview with a contemporary Jewish resident, the wife of the local Lubavitch rabbi. The book also includes a section of traditional Jewish foods and aYiddish glossary. Due in part to the ethnic "revolution" of the 1960s and the resultant American preoccupation with exploring family and community roots, local Jewish history has gained a new prominence over the last several decades. Stone's volume reveals both the promise and pitfalls inherent in this increasingly popular form of writing American Jewish history. The author provides the reader with a well-chosen, wide array of memoir, diary, and oral history segments, many of them treasures that have probably been tucked away in archives for years. Many of the selections are truly revealing, illuminating the special challenges that faced Jews settling i n a unique western community. T h e handsome photographs that are scattered through the book enhance their stories and help make them come alive. At the same time, the book ofien suffers from a failure to put the experiences of these individuals into a broader historical perspective. Many of the memoirs or interviews stand on their own, without any sort of introduction. The author frequently breaks the excerpts, as well as her own brief overview of the history of the Jews of Utah, into small sections with headings. These numerous divisions and headings are often distracting.The most serious deficiency of the book, however, is that A Homeland in Utah suffers from what historian Kathleen Neils Conzen has termed an "insular" approach to the study of local communities, one that fails, for the most part, to draw broader comparisons with


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

other communities and shed light on the wider North American Jewish experience. How does the development of the Utah Jewish community compare and contrast with that of Los Angeles, Denver,Tucson, or Santa Fe-or with Jewish communities on the East Coast, for that matter? However, the author admits from the beginning that her book is not a history of Utah Jews but rather is about "historical conversations." Despite its drawbacks, A Homeland in Utah contributes another strand to the complex tapestry that we know as the North American Jewish experience. JEANNE ABRAMS University of Denver

General Crook and the Western Frontier By Charles M. Robinson 111 (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 2001. xix

+ 386 pp. 39.95.)

FOR MANY STUDENTS of the U.S. military, George Crook is somewhat of an enigma. Crook supporters have touted him as one of the finest soldiers who ever served in the army of the United States. Detractors thought him to be egotistical, ambitious, and vindictive. Moreover, his reputation as an Indian fighter contrasted sharply with the response of the remnant of the Apaches who, when receiving notice of his death in March 1890, "sat down in a great circle, let down their hair, bent their heads forward on their bosoms, and wept and wailed like ~hildren.~'An enigma indeed. Charles Robinson's new biography of Crook creates a portrait that is balanced and believable. Beginning with Crook's Civil War efforts, the author points out that, despite his West Point education, he was far from being a military genius when compared to the likes of Ulysses Grant,William Sherman, and Philip Sheridan. His generalship during the war proved innovative at times, predictable at others, and full of blunders. Robinson correctly adds, however, that few Union generals were military geniuses, and many made far worse blunders than Crook did. Robinson is best when analyzing Crook7s postwar military career as an Indian fighter. In the Pacific Northwest and Northern Plains, Crook wasted animals and men "far out of proportion to any gains" (193, 311). At times, he seemed to understand the Indians, but rarely did he use that knowledge in his military campaigns against them. As Robinson aptly demonstrates, it would be in Arizona that his reputation was made. For instance, in "The Grand Offensive of 1872-73" against warring Apaches, Crook


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deftly approached them as friends, as enemies, and as wards of the government. As a result, the Apaches surrendered, returned to the reservation, and were aided by Crook in developing new farming techniques. Yet Robinson portrays another side to Crook. His pretentiousness, shameless cultivation of the press, and efforts to surround himself with officers who were loyal and obedient manifested his preference for image over merit. Apparently, Crook spent as much time making sure that he received the proper accolades for his military efforts as he spent actually fighting Indians. Ultimately this paid off when he was jumped two grades from lieutenant colonel to brigadier general-something unheard-of in the postwar army. Needless to say, he made enemies of many senior soldiers who were passed over for promotion because of him. Although the general had hoped to create an image of himself as another Zachary Taylor, a military man who rarely wore a uniform and disdained military customs, Crook actually resembled the twentieth-century general Douglas MacArthur in his concern over image and his penchant for political intrigue (xvii). Despite his faults, Robinson asserts, Crook's major asset was his humanity. He believed that the Indian was entitled to the dignity and justice offered to any U.S. citizen and pursued this end with his military position and political connections. As a Progressive reformer, Crook sought to make Indians into useful citizens through education, assimilation, and adoption of white standards. This was in contrast to generals like Nelson Miles who believed that the Indians should either be exterminated or reduced to permanent dependence on the government. As a humanitarian, Robinson concludes, Crook achieved greatness. The book is well written, uses new sources, and dispels many myths about the enigmatic life of an important figure in the history of the nineteenth-century American West and the U.S. military. It is a must-read. MARK R. GRANDSTAFF Brigham Young University


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Being Dgerent: Stories of Utah's Minorities Edited b y Stanford J. Layton (Salt Lake City: Signature Books, 200 1.xxi

+ 243 pp. Paper, $21.95.)

THIS INTRIGUING AND VALUABLE volume of essays should stand on the shelf of anyone interested in western history, cross-cultural communication, or the dynamics of immigration versus community. Students and scholars seeking a fresh approach to Utah history will find its contents replete with surprising details. Fourteen essays collected from issues of U t a h Historical Quarterly over several decades, and introduced by Stanford J. Layton, offer insights into a variety of groups, with a depth and acuity that general histories rarely achieve. Three essays discuss an all-out resistance to immigration-with the Shoshones, Northern Utes, and Skull Valley Gosiutes resisting the encroachment of Yankees, Southerners, and Europeans. Not surprisingly, our current debates and conflicts flicker interestingly in these historical mirrors. This comment in Layton's introduction offers one example: "Lost amid today's debates regarding nuclear waste repositories in Skull Valley is the simple historical fact that the SkullValley Gosiutes have held and continue to hold an abiding love of their homeland.. .." Indeed, the reader learns that a Polynesian colony also called arid Skull Valley home. Tracey E. Panek writes: "The Deseret N e w s described Hawaiian Pioneer Day [in Iosepa] in 1908: 'The crowd was a most cosmopolitan one, comprising 100 Hawaiians, 27 American Indians, 13 Samoans, 6 Maoris, 1 Portuguese, 5 half caste Portuguese, 3 families of Scotchmen, several families of English."' More populated areas also claimed diverse communities. In the first essay, Richard 0 . Ulibarri sets the parameters of the discussion, writing: "The true ethnic minorities are those who, because of racial or cultural difference, have been treated as a group apart, who are held in lower esteem, and who are deferred from opportunities open to the dominant group." H e adds an important distinction for readers in a nation populated mainly by immigrants and their descendants: "Of critical importance is the fact that Indians, blacks, and Chicanos are conquered people, thus having suffered deculturalization and cultural isolation.. .. N o n e of these groups shared in the American frontier experience except on the wrong end of the action."The exception, perhaps, would be freed blacks who entered the West as explorers or soldiers. Within these essays the state of Utah shimmers with vibrant contrasts, from the Greeks in Bingham Canyon to the Italians in


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Price, from the black infantry stationed at Fort Douglas to the Scandinavians gathered near Manti, and from a Jewish colony in Sanpete County to a Japanese colony outside Heber City. Mexican-American culture-ever-present in the West and little noted-is also explored here. Throughout, the Mormon overlay and its effects on virtually all Utahns add complexity, and sometimes harmony, to the cross-cultural experience. When the essays are read together, even the authors' and their sources' discrepancies in ethnic terminology provide a subtle but effective commentary on how perspective changes over time and with events. Layton's selection of authors is astute. In addition to those mentioned, he mingles Michael J. Clark, Steven J. Crum, Everett L. Cooley, John W. Heaton, Edward H. Meyer, Claire Noall, Philip F. Notarianni, Helen Papanikolas, Irene Stoof Pear main, Sandra C. Taylor, Albert Winkler, and Wilham A. Wilson. Each attunes the reader's view to a different and specific reality, enriching and enlivening our understanding of community, both past and present. LINDA SlLLlTOE Weber State University Ogden, Utah

Down by the Lemonade Springs: Essays on Wallace Stegner By Jackson J. Benson (Reno: University of Nevada Press, 2001. xvii + 174 pp. Paper, $24.95.) STUDENTS O F T H E AMERICAN WEST should want to acquaint themselves with Wallace Stegner (1909-93), and Benson's essays in his Lemonade Springs look like a good choice for striking up (or for furthering) that acquaintance. Stegner was often affectionately referred to as "the dean of western literature," which referred to his important contributions to history and to biography, along with his prize-winning achievements with fiction-a Pulitzer Prize and a National Book Award. In fact, it is still often remarked, now seven years after his death, how no one looks quite capable of filling his shoes. He appears to have been one of those rare, overarching talents who may come along only once every three or four generations. First, a word about the tantalizing "lemonade springs" of Benson's title; these are lyrics effectively evocative of Stegner's liberalism-with its populist twist. The "lemonade springs" have come to Benson's title by way of the popular song by Harry


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

McClintock, "In the Big Rock Candy Mountain." Now, one who knows a little bit about Stegner will recognize The Big Rock Candy Mountain (1938) as the title Stegner gave to his first major novel, in which he began to express his suspicions about western stereotypes and myths. And those knowledgeable about Stegner will also recognize that Where the Bluebird Sings to the Lemonade Springs (1992) is a crystallization of his mature essays on the stubborn destructiveness of western stereotypes and myths. Rather than the rugged individualism so vital to the mythic West, Stegner favored realism and, when necessary, an out-and-out aggressive iconoclasm.Thus armed, he became a champion, first, of massive public relief during the depression, and second, of the rise of laborwhich, incidentally, was the issue he explored in his biographical novel Joe Hill (1950)' about that dark, ambiguous figure who went down a martyr in his fight with laissez-faire industry. Of course, Harry McClintock7sgreat song runs down this same populist vein, with its bouncy lyrics about "box cars [that] all are empty," and therefore the hoboes7refuge, along with "the handouts [that] grow on bushes" and "cigarette trees" and "lemonade springm-all "Where the blue bird sings / In the Big Rock Candy Mountain." This, then, is the considerable freight of political allusion that Benson's Down by the Lemonade Springs must carry. Historians will find the first half of Benson's essay collection more relevant, while literary critics (and literary historians) should better appreciate Benson's concluding pieces, which are more tightly focused and self-contained interpretations of Stegner's fiction. Benson's leading pieces appear under such titles as "The Battle against Rugged Individualism"; "Artist a Environmentalist"; and "Evaluating the Environmentalist." This gathering suggests something important in our recent history of ideas. That is, the strongest surge of the old populism seems to have run underground for a few decades and emerged as our environmentalism. In large part, we have Stegner to thank for this. As Benson demonstrates, Stegner's essay compilation under the title The Sound of Mountain Water (1946) has become a classic in this growing genre-the first piece of many reflecting Stegner's sustained interest. Finally, Jackson Benson is unquestionably one to listen to. It was his good fortune to have gotten not only Stegner's authorization for a biography but Stegner's cooperation as well. Having interviewed Stegner extensively, Benson did up his subject in 472 pages, Wallace Stegner: His Li$e and Work (1996), worthy of the Evans Prize in Biography. Now, five years later, Benson follows


BOOK REVIEWS

with these well-seasoned Lemonade reflections. They are going on my shelf, right next to Benson7s big biography. Down by the Lemonade Springs ought to be shelved within easy reach in all our public libraries, and in quite a few private ones, too. It is a good addition. RUSSELL BURROWS Weber State University

Seeing and Being Seen: ~ u r i s min the American West Edited by David M. Wrobel and Patrick T. Long (Lawrence: University of Kansas Press, 2001. xv + 336 pp. Cloth, $45.00; paper, $19.95.) THIS COLLECTION O F ESSAYS on tourism in the American West is organized into three groups: Part One, "Perspectives: Scholars and Tourists," addresses some of the complex issues surrounding perceptions of tourists and those impacted by tourism; Part Two, "Processes: Tourism and Cultural Change," examines tourism in a historical context and addresses its cultural impact on communities and tourists; Part Three, "Parks: Tourists in Western Wonderlands," explores the history and impact of tourism in the western national parks from the late nineteenth century to the present. In his excellent introduction, David Wrobel defines the tourist as someone who travels in order to experience unfamiliar surroundings. He discusses the creation of "heritage" and introduces the concept of pseudo-tourism, where towns like Red Lodge, Montana, have in response to tourism played with the past by dressing miners up like cowboys, Inlans, and Italian immigrants. However, Wrobel notes, the impact of tourism on culture is difficult to access because culture is not static but is in flux and changes regardless of tourism. The essays in the first part identie the confhct that can exist between those seelung preservation and those who just want pleasure from travel. Distinctions are made between travelers-those seeking enlightenment-and tourists-those pursuing only entertainment.The essays ask whether business people, who see tourism as an industry, can work with professionals in the humanities and social sciences who care little about the balance sheet and are more interested in people and places. Other issues examined include questions of authenticity vs. recreation and whether there is really a "mystique of the West" and if so, how it might be


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

preserved. Patricia Nelson Limerick's comic narrative about how she was a cowgirl as a child-and then as an adult became an analyzer of tourism-comes to the conclusion that both the tourist and the provider of the tourism experience have sinned against the other. Most important, Limerick warns, "Historians had better put some effort into the sympathetic understanding of the interior world of tourists, because tourists are, in some not necessarily very agreeable way, our kinfolk." She makes an impassioned plea: "It does not seem entirely justifiable for historians to turn on their heels and retreat from the impurities of heritage tourism.'' Other essays address similar issues. Rudolfo Anaya examines how residents and tourists learn about a region. Patrick T. Long analyzes the costs and economic benefits of heritage tourism. He warns that in order for tourism to be successful as a long-term economic development strategy in rural western communities, it needs the support and input of a significant majority of cornrnunity residents. Long sees that most communities, in addition to attracting more tourist dollars, also seek to beautify their surroundings, improve the quality of life, and preserve what is locally authentic. Hal Rothman concludes the essays in Part One with his observations that residents of those communities that embraced tourism expected "their lives to remain the same. They did not anticipate nor were they prepared for the ways in which tourism would change them, the rising cost of property in their town, the traffic, the self-perception that the work they did was not important, the diminishing sense of pride in work and ultimately in community, and the tears in the social fabric that followed." He further warns, "This is the core of the complicated devil's bargain that is twentieth-century tourism in the American West. Success creates the seeds of its own destruction as more and more people seek the experience of an authentic place transformed to seem more authentic." Part Two includes four essays that highlight how tourism promoters have created highly specific and selective images of western people and places. The essays also stress that tourism has real cultural, economic, and political effects on both the visited and the visitor.The essays emphasize that these processes of historical and cultural change are complex and do not lend themselves to easy generalizations. They do, however, lay out the common theme that travelers have sought to escape the forces and influences of the East and find democracy and true freedom in the West .


BOOK REVIEWS

The essays in Part Three continue the stimulating dlalogue as they examine the conflicts of the traveler vs. the tourist, the elite vs. the unwashed, enjoyment vs. enlightenment, authentic vs. pseudo, and heritage tourism as preserver vs. heritage tourism as changer. Thrown into the mix are issues relating to infrastructure, new construction, freedom from femininity, romanticism, and the mystification of the West. Above all, the essays challenge historians and others whose expertise and training allow them to make worthwhile contributions to leave the security of the sidelines and get their uniforms a little muddied and perhaps their egos a little bruised as they actively participate on the field of heritage tourism. WILSON MARTIN Utah State Historical Society

Coal C a m p Days: A Boy's Remembrance B y Ricardo L. Garcia (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2001.295 pp. Paper, $24.95.)

The author has fictionalized his life as a child in a northern New Mexican coal camp during World War 11. Living among the usual diverse nationalities of a coal camp, the Hispanic family in the book experiences birth, death, and the ever-present danger of mining accidents.When his children express an interest in becoming coal miners, the father takes them into the mine and explains that the earth is like a giant layer cake.The coal is the frosting, and the miners are tiny insects trying to take the frosting out without having the cake collapse on them. But not until he himself falls victim to a cave-in do the children give up their romanticized notions of mining. The book describes war celebrations and war fears, a fishing trip,Victory gardening, pranks, faith, and such details as sharing a bed with two brothers and having to take turns sleeping in the undesirable center position.


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

The Arduous Road: Salt Lake to Los Angeles, the Most Dficult Wagon Road in American History By Leo Lyman and Larry Reese (Victorville,CA: Lyman Historical Research and Publishing, 2001.108 pp. Paper, $20.)

Former Mormon Battalion members returning to California took the first wagon over what became and remains a significant route of travel. Some seven thousand freighters, forty-niners, emigrants, and Mormon colonizers followed them. Some of these actually had northern Cahfornia as their goal but decided to trade the rigors of travel across the Salt Flats and the Sierra for a 300-mile desert road that offered only ten watering stops. This book begins by recounting some of the journeys on the trail during the 1840s and 1850s. The second section describes places and experiences along the trail in detail, quoting extensively from the journals of the travelers. Contemporary photographs and maps enhance the text and the historical photos.

The Saints and the Union: Utah Territory during the Civil War BYE. B. Long (198 1;reprint ed., Champaign: University of Illinois Press, 2001. xiii

+ 3 10 pp.

Paper, $18.95.)

Brigham Young, "narrow, shrewd, and careful. ..in his actions, if not always in his words, during the war years" (268), and Patrick Connor, "headstrong (though not to the point of recklessness).. .opinionated in the extreme, and always controversial" (270), take center stage in this volume that describes what was happening in Utah during the bloodletting in the East. The author asserts that both men possessed character and principles and that both, "despite obvious faults, served their faiths and their nation well." He lets each speak for himself, with the strident rhetoric on one side counterpointing that on the other.This is a well-balanced, well-reasoned, and enlightening volume.

The Northern Navajo Frontiev, 1860- 1900 By Robert S. McPherson (1988; reprint, Logan: Utah State University Press, 2001. 144 pp. Paper, $19.95.)

In the last decades of the nineteenth century, a complex web of associations characterized human interaction in the Four Corners area. Utes, Paiutes, Navajos, cowboys, traders, miners, and Mormon settlers all mingled in the Four Corners area, sometimes in conflict, sometimes in alliance. Generally, the northern Navajos who had remained free during the Bosque Redondo incarceration used these relationships to good advantage. Although they had historically fought with the Utes, they formed alliances and kinship bonds with the Paiutes


BOOK NOTICES

and, through them, with the Utes. With the Mormons, the Navajos also maintained friendship and even "converted" to the religion as long as this stance served their interest, but when Mormons encroached on their territory the Navajos responded by sending their herds onto Mormon lands, protesting against Mormon appropriation of water and land, mutilating calves, and expanding the range of their herds. They eventually won the expulsion of Mormons from the reservation.With settlers in general, Navajos also refrained from open hostility but instead expanded their sheep grazing and, at times, threatened violence. Author McPherson details these trends and calls the Navajo actions an aggressive defensive policy.The Navajos, he writes, were astute players in the events that saw their reservation boundaries expanded during the same period that other tribes lost territory.

Religion in the Modern American West By Ferenc Morton Szasz (2000;reprint,Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 2002.249 pp. Paper, $19.95.) First published in hardback, and reviewed in UHQ 69 (Fall 2001), this comprehensive study of the relationship of religions and the West has been released in paper.

The Multicultural Southwest: A Reader Edited by A. Gabriel Melkndez, M.Jane Young, Patricia Moore, and Patrick Pynes (Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 2002.300 pp. Cloth, $45.00;paper, $24.95.) The essays, stories, poems, and other writings in this volume are as diverse as the topic. Readers will find new understandings of both traditional and contemporary lives, for instance, in Rina Swentzell's explanation of a mid-century Tewa community's connection to its dwellings and space. The people interacted with their homes as if the adobe buildings were living beings. They also let the houses die of old age-when one house developed a large crack, the author's greatgrandmother said, "It has been a good house, it has been taken care of, fed, blessed and healed many times during its life, and now it is time for it to go back into the earth" (88).Soon afterward, the structure collapsed.


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

Angels $Darkness: A Drama in Three A d s By Arthur Conan Doyle. Edited and with an introduction by Peter Blau (NewYork: Baker Street Irregulars in cooperation with the Toronto Public Library, 2001. x

+ 191 pp. ???.)

A facsimile of an unfinished play by the creator of Sherlock Holmes and five scholarly essays comprise this volume. The play closely resembles Conan Doyle's novel A Study in Scarlet, and an essay by Utahn Michael Homer explores the Mormon subplot-centered around fiendish Danite deeds-in both. Homer describes the literary, Masonic, and Spiritualist sources that influenced these works. He also details the author's first visit to Utah some forty years after writing the novel and play (and the crowd that, despite his negative writings about Mormonism, filled the Tabernacle to hear him speak), his belief in Spiritualism, and his growing appreciation of Mormonism's similarity to Spiritualism and of Joseph Smith's abilities as a medium.

When Montana and I WereYoung: A Frontier Childhood By Margaret Bell. Edited and with an introduction by Mary Clearman Blew (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2002. d

i

+ 253 pp. $24.95.)

A box of papers found in a garage turned out to be a remarkable memoir of an unusual childhood. In the care of a sadistic and shiftless stepfather, young Peggy did a man's work, acquired great skill at ranching and horsemanship, and endured horrific abuse.Yet instead of playing the victim, she "learned to take the blows without collapsing" (242) and grew tough, eventually breaking free and creating the life she wanted. As an adult in the 1940s she tried to get her vivid narrative published, but that had to wait until the manuscript's rediscovery. Its appearance now is a victory for those who struggle to let the female voice, too often silenced, be heard.


UTAH STATE HISTORICAL SOCIETY Department of Community and Economic Development Division of State History

BOARD OF STATE HISTORY Chair PAM MILLER, Price, 2003, vice Chair GARY N.ANDERSON, Logan, 2005 PAUL ANDERSON, Salt Lake City, 2003 KENDALL W: BROWN, Provo, 2005 MICHAEL W. HOMER, Salt Lake City, 2005 KIM A. HYATT, Bountiful, 2005 JOEL C. JANETSKI, Provo, 2005 ROSS PETERSON, Logan, 2003 PAUL D.WILLIAMS, Salt Lake City, 2003 WALLY WRIGHT, Salt Lake City, 2005 RICHARD W. SADLER, Ogden, 2003,

ADMINISTRATION WILSON G. MARTIN, Acting

Director PHILIP E NOTARIANNI ,Associate Director STANFORD J. LAYTON, Managing Editor KEVIN T.JONES, State Archaeologist

The Utah State Historical Society was organized in 1897 by public-spirited Utahns to collect, preserve, and publish Utah and related history. Today, under state sponsorship, the Society fulfills its obligations by publishing the U t a h Historical Quarterly and other historical materials; collecting historic Utah artifacts; locating, documenting, and preserving historic and prehistoric buildings and sites; and maintaining a specialized research library. Donations and gifts to the Society's programs, museum, or its library are encouraged, for only through such means can it live up to its responsibility of preserving the record of Utah's past. This publication has been funded with the assistance of a matching grant-in-aid from the National Park Service, under provisions of the National Historic Preservation Act of 1966 as amended. This program receives financial assistance for identification and preservation of historic properties under Title VI of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act of 1973. The U. S. Department of the Interior prohibits unlawful discrimination on the basis of race, color, national origin, age, or handicap in its federally assisted programs. If you believe you have been discriminated against in any program, activity, or facility as described above, or if you desire further information, please write to: Office of Equal Opportunity, National Park Service, 1849 C Street, NW,Washington, D.C., 20240.



FALL 2002

•

VOLUME 70

NUMBER 4


U T A H

H I S T O R I C A L

QUARTERLY

(ISSN 0042-143X)

EDITORIAL

STAFF

WILSON G. MARTIN, Editor ALLAN KENT POWELL, Managing Editor CRAIG FULLER, Associate Editor

A D V I S O R Y B O A R D

OF

EDITORS

NOEL A. CARMACK, Hyrum, 2003 LEE ANN KREUTZER,Torrey, 2003 ROBERT S. MCPHERSON, Blanding, 2004 MIRIAM 13. MURPHY, Murray, 2003 ANTONETTE CHAMBERS NOBLE, Cora, WY, 2002 JANET BURTON SEEGMILLER, Cedar City, 2002 JOHN SILLITO, Ogden, 2004 GARY TOPPING, Salt Lake City, 2002 RONALD G. WATT, West Valley City, 2004

Utah Historical Quarterly was established in 1928 to publish articles, documents, and reviews contributing to knowledge of Utah history. The Quarterly is published four times a year by the Utah State Historical Society, 300 R i o Grande, Salt Lake City, Utah 84101. Phone (801) 533-3500 for membership and publications information. Members of the Society receive the Quarterly, Beehive History, Utah Preservation, and the bimonthly newsletter upon payment of the annual dues: individual, $25; institution, $25; student and senior citizen (age sixty-five or older), $20; sustaining, $35; patron, $50; business, $100.

Manuscripts submitted for publication should be double-spaced with endnotes. Authors are encouraged to include a P C diskette with the submission. For additional information on requirements, contact the managing editor. Articles and book reviews represent the views of the authors and are not necessarily those of the Utah State Historical Society.

Periodicals postage is paid at Salt Lake City, Utah. POSTMASTER: Send address change to Utah Historical Quarterly, 300 R i o Grande, Salt Lake Citv, Utah 84101.


TERLY FALL 2002

V O L U M E 70

NUMBER 4

298

I N THIS ISSUE

300

B o u n d for Zion: The Ten- and Thirteen-Pound Emigrating Companies, 1853-54 By Polly Aird

326

Glimpses o f Ice Skating and Coasting in Utah By Miriam B. Murphy and Craig Fuller

341

The Forest Service Takes to the Slopes: The Birth o f Utah's Ski Industry and the R o l e o f the Forest Service By Joseph Arave

356

Environmentalism and the Kaiparowits Power Project, 1964-76 By David Kent Sproul

372

B O O K REVIEWS Scott E. Casper and Lucinda M. Long, eds. Moving Stories: Migration and the American West, 1850-2000 Reviewed by William Mulder Alan K. Engen and Gregory C.Thompson. First Tracks: A Century of Skiing in Utah Reviewed by Lee Sather Kathryn M. Daynes. More Wives Than One: Transformation of the Mormon Marriage System, 1840—1910 Reviewed by Richard S. Van Wagoner Ronald O Barney One Side By Himself: The Life and Times of Lewis Barney, 1808-1894 Reviewed by Richard W. Sadler Robert S. McPherson. Navajo Land, Navajo Culture: The Utah Experience in the Twentieth Century Reviewed by Wade Davies Stanford J. Layton, ed. Utah's Lawless Fringe: Stories of True Crime Reviewed by Kay Gillespie

381

B O O K NOTICES

385

2002 I N D E X

COPYRIGHT 2002 UTAH STATE HISTORICAL SOCIETY


I N

I

T H I S

I S S U E

nstitutions have institutions. At the U t a h State Historical Society, perhaps the best known and most widely used institution is the Utah Historical Quarterly—first published in 1928 and now concluding its seventieth volume with this issue. For the last twenty-nine years, Dr. Stanford J. Layton has edited and managed the Quarterly. In the hearts of readers, authors, and the Utah State Historical Society staff, Stan has become an institution. His name will always be associated with the emergence of the Quarterly as one of the nation's premier state history journals and its embrace of all peoples and areas of the state. During his tenure as editor, nearly six hundred articles and over sixteen hundred book reviews and notices have appeared in the m o r e than 12,000 pages he edited and published. This legacy of history is an unparalleled treasure for Utah and her people and is a monument to a truly distinguished career. Such contributions, however, will not end with Stan's retirement from the Utah State Historical Society. H e moves from here to a full-time teaching position in t h e D e p a r t m e n t of H i s t o r y at W e b e r State University w h e r e a n e w generation of students will enjoy his wit, humor, and love of history, while being challenged to meet his impeccable standards for scholarship and excellence. This issue's first article takes us back a hundred and fifty years to England in the early 1850s w h e n new converts to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints sought the quickest and cheapest way to immigrate to the

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new Zion in the mountains of far off Utah. For the poorer converts, (and most were in this category) the answer seemed to be the ÂŁ 1 0 plan introduced in 1853 then changed to the ÂŁ 1 3 plan a year later. The questions of how the plan worked, what the immigration experience was like for the more than one thousand participants, and why the plan was abandoned after two years, are answered in this insightful article. The next two articles return to the theme of winter activities in Utah, which was the subject of the Fall 2001 issue that reached readers on the eve of the 2002 Winter Olympics. In the delightful article on ice skating and coasting in Utah, we are reminded that earlier generations of Utahns were not content to sit by the fire and wait for the warmth of spring and summer. Instead, they adapted easily to the snow and cold turning city roads into coasting hills and developing primitive but effective -warning systems for both motorists and coasters. Frozen ponds became ice skating arenas where couples could skate arm in arm or youngsters could compete in hockey games equipped with brooms or other kinds of makeshift hockey sticks. Utah's canals became highways of ice on which skaters covered miles and miles of unobstructed skating. Anyone who has strapped on a pair of ice skates or jumped onto a coaster sled will savor this article. The third article looks at the role of the United States Forest Service in the development of Utah's ski industry. As a governmental agency created in 1905 to manage the timber and grazing resources on the nation's forest reserves, few imagined that the Forest Service would soon deal with recreational issues ranging from campgrounds to ski runs and skier safety. The process by which this occurred in Utah is outlined in this timely article. Anthropologists instruct us that the environment has been a primary factor in our history for thousands of years. More recently, the tremendous growth of Western cities has brought new demands and challenges in the post-World War II era. Our last article focuses on the environmental issues and concerns that surfaced during the 1960s and 1970s and ultimately led to the cancellation of the Kaiparowits Power Project in southern Utah. In this balanced treatment of the controversy, the concerns and tactics of environmental groups are examined, the casual approach to planning and implementation by power officials is presented, and the reasons for the ultimate cancellation of the project are summarized. As we face new and ongoing challenges with immigration, the environment, the economy, our quality of life, and our own survival, the thought-provoking articles in this issue offer a meaningful historical perspective on the paths we have taken in the past.

OPPOSITE: The base of the Brighton chairlift circa 1955. ON THE COVER: Undated photo of ice skaters.

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B o u n d for Z i o n : T h e Ten- and ThirteenP o u n d E m i g r a t i n g Companies, 1853—54 By POLLY AIRD

et all who can procure a bit of bread, and one garment on their back, be assured there is -water plenty and pure by the -way, and doubt no longer, but come next year to the place of gathering, even in flocks, as doves fly to their windows before a storm," urged Brigham Young in April 1852 to the "Saints Scattered Through-out the Earth." 1 To a poor, working-class British believer in the new M o r m o n religion, these words gave bright hope for escape from the daily, hungry treadmill to a life with God's elect in Zion, the home he had set aside for them in the Great Salt Lake Valley. Young's epistle to the scattered Saints followed more than eleven years of M o r m o n emigration from Great Britain to Bird's eye view of New Orleans the U n i t e d States. Since 1848 s o m e six from the Lower Cotton Press in thousand converts had made the seven-thousand-mile j o u r n e y from the green hills of 1852 showing both sailing ships Britain all the way to the desert kingdom of and steamboats. Lithograph by Utah. Much has been written about British D. W. Moody after J. W. Hill and M o r m o n emigration; in particular, P. A. M. B. F. Smith, Jr., delineators.

L

Polly Aird is an independent historian who lives in Seattle. She is on the editorial board for the Journal of Mormon History. 1

Seventh General Epistle, Millennial Star, July 17, 1852. Brigham Young was president of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (also known as the LDS or Mormon church).

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Taylor's Expectations Westward gives a wealth of historical context for the missionary work in Great Britain and the planning of emigration by the church leaders in Utah. 2 This paper builds on that background and focuses on an experiment in moving British M o r m o n s for a minimal amount of money from Liverpool, England, to Salt Lake City, and it explores why the scheme -was abandoned after two years. Most immigrants to Utah, w h o came primarily from Great Britain and Scandinavia, had never ventured more than a few miles from their doorsteps and could not imagine the vast distances they -would have to travel.3 W h a t impelled these zealous believers to immigrate, not just to the eastern seaboard of America as so many others from Europe had done but to go another thousand miles inland from the then-frontier on the Missouri River? T h e great impetus came from a belief integral to the LDS faith in the mid-nineteenth century: "gathering to Zion." Believed literally and fervently, this tenet was nearly as fundamental as baptism. It reenacted the gathering of the Israelites to the Promised Land and was a necessary preparation for the coming of Christ in the "Last Days." For the individual, it was the only way one might receive the full ordinances of the faith, for these had to be performed in a temple, the "house of the Lord." 4 Joseph Smith, the founder of the new religion, had proclaimed God's revelation: "Ye are called to bring to pass the gathering of mine elect T h e decree hath gone forth from the Father that they shall be gathered in unto one place...to prepare...against the day w h e n tribulation and desolation are sent forth upon the wicked. For the hour is nigh and the day soon at hand when...all the proud and they that do wickedly shall be as stubble; and I will burn them up, saith the Lord of Hosts, that wickedness shall not be upon the earth." 5 Besides its spiritual purpose—to prepare for Christ's "imminent" return by bringing the righteous out of "Babylon," the sinful world—the gathering had earthly aims as -well. T h e church needed people to build the n e w kingdom and to stake out the M o r m o n claim to a vast territory in the West. In addition, a large population in Utah Territory would bolster the leaders' application for statehood, a status that would give t h e m m o r e control over political affairs. 2

P. A. M. Taylor, Expectations Westward: The Mormons and the Emigration of their British Converts in the Nineteenth Century (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1966). For studies by other authors, see James B. Allen, Ronald W. Walker, and David J. Whittaker, "Emigration and Immigration," Studies in Mormon History, 1830-1997: An Indexed Bibliography (Urbana and Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 2000), 633—35. 3 For example, Samuel Claridge wrote that when he traveled the thirty-five miles to Liverpool in early 1853 it was the first time he had ever gone more than a few miles from home; see S. George Ellsworth, Samuel Claridge: Pioneering the Outposts of Zion (Logan, Utah: author, 1987), 20. 4 Millennial Star, January 15, 1852, May 26, 1855. 5 Doctrine and Covenants of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Salt Lake City: Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 1989) 29:7-9 (hereafter cited as D&C); this section was first published as section 10 of the Doctrine and Covenants of the Church of the Latter Day Saints, comp. Joseph Smith, Jr., et al., (Kirtland, O H : F. G.Williams and Co., 1835).

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M o r m o n missionaries to Great Britain began teaching the tenet of gathering in 1840. Between then and 1847, about five thousand immigrated to church headquarters at Nauvoo, Illinois, and the surrounding country. 6 In 1848 the first emigrants bound for Utah sailed from Liverpool, arriving in the Salt Lake Valley just a year after the Mormons first settled there. British converts were but a tiny current in the vast river of emigration from Great Britain and Europe. To understand the context of the British M o r m o n experience in 1853 and 1854, the years of interest here, one needs to compare it to the overall British immigration to the United States. T h e p e a k for t h e B r i t i s h c a m e in 1849 t h r o u g h 1 8 5 3 , and for t h e Mormons in 1853 through 1856, with the two overlapping in 1853. 7 In that year at least 231,000 British came to the U.S. Only 2,609, or 1.12 percent of these were M o r m o n s . In 1854 some 193,000 British emigrated; 2,034 of these, or 1.05 percent of the whole, were Mormon. 8 T h e M o r m o n emigrants were almost all urban working-class families. T h e occupations recorded by U. S. customs officials for immigrants in 1852, the closest year for which figures can be found, -were first "laborers" and then farmers. Since the term "laborer" could encompass many types of work, and since the records include 25,000 returning U.S. citizens, one cannot draw meaningful conclusions, but the percentage of the next occupation in rank, farmers, is far higher than the tiny percent of M o r m o n s listed as farmers. T h e M o r m o n emigrants thus appear to have represented a fairly different strata of society: an urban one, unskilled in the arts that would help a pioneer. Certainly, their religious motivation contrasted with the economic motives of the average emigrant. 9 By 1853, British converts could travel to Utah by one of four methods: 1. Independent, "through" emigrants. T h e s e paid t h e i r o w n way on M o r m o n - p r o c u r e d ships and steamboats. Most sent m o n e y ahead to a M o r m o n agent on the frontier to buy oxen and wagons. N o t only did they benefit from an advantageous price this way, but such help was almost a necessity, for few of the city converts had ever seen, much less handled, an ox. In 1852 it was estimated that ÂŁ 2 0 would see an independent emigrant from Liverpool through to Salt Lake.10 2. Emigrants for the United States only.u These emigrants paid for their own passage and then were instructed to make their way to Council Bluffs, 6

Deseret News 1989-1990 Church Almanac (Salt Lake City: Deseret News, 1988), 166. Terry Coleman, Going to America (New York: Pantheon Books, 1972), 213, 295; Taylor, Expectations Westward, 145. 8 Coleman, Going to America, 295—96; James Linforth, "Introduction," in Frederick Piercy, Route from Liverpool to Great Salt Lake Valley, ed. Fawn M. Brodie (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Harvard University, 1962), 43; Millennial Star, April 23, 1853. Linforth records 2,312 Mormon emigrants for 1853, whereas the Millennial Star reports 2,609. The discrepancy comes from a difference in the reported n u m bers of independent emigrants. 9 Linforth, "Introduction," 46-48; Coleman, Going to America, 299-300. 10 Millennial Star, November 27, 1852, January 15, 1852. 11 Richard Jensen terms these "ordinary" emigrants, but in this period at least, all primary sources used "ordinary" to mean independent, through emigrants; see Richard L. Jensen, "The British Gathering to 7

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Iowa, on the east bank of the Missouri River, opposite today's Omaha. They settled in the area to work and earn enough for an outfit to use in crossing the plains sometime in the future. In mid-1854 church leaders began to encourage emigrants to come to the eastern states and work in their port of entry or in a frontier city, for they felt the emigrants could earn the needed money more quickly in America than in Britain. 12 Steerage across the ocean from Liverpool to N e w York in 1 8 5 0 — p r e s u m a b l y comparable to passage to N e w Orleans in 1853—54—cost approximately o n e month's wages for a skilled worker or two m o n t h s ' wages for an unskilled one. 13 For a large family, it was a major undertaking to save enough money for the voyage and have some left over to find a j o b and a place to live in the eastern states. 3. Prepaid and sent for from Utah. Relatives or friends already in U t a h c o u l d pay for s o m e o n e in E u r o p e to c o m e t h r o u g h t h e P e r p e t u a l Emigrating Fund. Payments of cash were preferred, but as there was little money in circulation at the time, most relatives paid in produce, livestock, equipment, or labor. By April 1854, 349 people had come to Utah this way. In July 1855 Brigham Young emphasized that such passage must be fully prepaid, but before then, sending for someone frequently involved a partial payment and a promise, or even just a promise. 14 In one example, two Scottish brothers, Dougal and Alexander Adamson, sent for their sister Agnes s family, promising to pay the $300 for the family's passage by making adobe bricks. 15 4. Perpetual Emigrating Fund (PEF). In 1849 the PEF was established to gather the penniless Saints w h o had been driven out of the former church headquarters in N a u v o o , Illinois, and w h o waited on the frontier in Pottawattamie County, Iowa. O n c e that task was accomplished, the fund was o p e n e d to others w h o could n o t afford to c o m e on their o w n . California Gold Rushers, by buying goods and services as they passed Zion," in Truth Will Prevail: The Rise of the Church ofJesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in the British Isles, 1837-1987, ed.V. Ben Bloxham, James R. Moss, and Larry C. Porter (Solihull, England: Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 1987), 179. For primary sources, see, for example, the passenger list of the John M. Wood in "Emigration Records of the Liverpool Office of the British Mission, 1851-1855," Historical Department Archives, Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Salt Lake City (hereafter cited as LDS Archives); and the Millennial Star, May 13, 1854. 12 Millennial Star, August 1, 1849, July 8, 1854. In practice, however, the emigrants were often pushed through to Utah out of concern that they would apostatize if left in the States. 13 Dudley Baines, Emigration from Europe, 1815—1930 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995), 40. 14 Linforth, "Introduction," 27; Deseret News, July 25, 1855; Millennial Star, November 24, 1855. is pj}p Financial Accounts, LDS Archives, C R 376 2, reel 2, fldr 83; and reel 8, item 25. At an exchange rate of $ 5 = ^ 1 , this came to ,£60, or £ 1 0 for each person. Archibald Anderson came to Utah in 1855, and his wife Agnes Adamson and their three sons came by handcart in 1856.Their daughter did not come. For Archibald Anderson, see the ship's roster for the Samuel Curling, sailed April 22, 1855; "Emigration Records from the Liverpool Office," LDS Archives; and Milo Andrus's overland company roster, Journal History of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, October 24, 1855, LDS Archives (hereafter cited as Journal History). For Agnes and their sons, see passenger list for the Enoch Train, Journal History, March 22 and 23, 1856, and Daniel McArthur's handcart company roster, Journal History, September 26, 1856,33.

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through Utah, brought m o n e y to the M o r m o n s , helping to make the fund a reality and quickening the hope that one day " T h e poor can sit under their own vine, and inhabit their own house, and -worship G o d in Zion." In 1852 the first 251 British PEF emigrants sailed from Liverpool. Their trip launched the complex endeavor of moving a large n u m b e r of people over an ocean, up rivers, and across t h e plains, almost all a r r a n g e d before embarkation. W h e n they arrived in Salt Lake City, residents there greeted the first PEF Saints with joyful fanfare.16 T h e PEF -was a revolving fund started and sustained by donations from which emigrants could b o r r o w to finance the journey. T h e n u m b e r of PEF emigrants in any year depended on the resources available and was determined by Brigham Young, the president of the fund. In a signed contract, the emigrants promised to pay back the cost of the j o u r n e y once they got to Utah, so that others could come. As Utah during this period had mostly a subsistence economy, and because PEF immigrants were also burdened -with tithing and various local taxes, many could not pay back their loans (which did not accrue interest, at least for a time). Consequently, the fund continually lacked money, and church leaders tried various means to raise more. T h e primary means was to sell the animals and wagons after the i m m i g r a n t s r e a c h e d U t a h . Samuel R i c h a r d s , p r e s i d e n t of t h e B r i t i s h Mission, implemented an additional strategy by encouraging the British saints to deposit their m o n e y into the PEF instead of a bank. T h e saints would receive no interest, but they would have the credit available to t h e m -whenever they -were ready to go, and " T h e blessing G o d will bestow u p o n those w h o put their means and their hearts into His work, is not to be compared -with a two per cent interest." 17 Richards, w h o was only twenty-eight years old, also proposed two subPEF plans. T h e first was a "donation and loan" scheme whereby one -would give -whatever one had to the PEF and then borrow from the fund as if one had donated nothing, with the obligation to pay back the full amount after arriving in Utah. This helped others emigrate and ensured that the donors through their show of faith would make the list of those going. M o r e than ÂŁ 2 , 0 0 0 was raised between this plan's announcement in N o v e m b e r 1853 and May 1854. 18 T h e second 1853 sub-plan was that all w h o could raise ÂŁ 5 per person -would pool their m o n e y under Samuel Richards, the British 16

Linforth, "Introduction," 23, 29; Millennial Star, December 11, 1852. Millennial Star, November 26, 1853. A copy of the PEF contract can be found in the Millennial Star, January 12, 1856. O n interest not being charged immediately, see B. H. Roberts, A Comprehensive History of the Church ofJesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Century 1, 6 vols. (Provo: Brigham Young University Press, 1965), 3:410. 18 Millenial Star, N o v e m b e r 26, 1853, and May 13, 1854. Charles Derry, w h o later j o i n e d the Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, "was bitter about this plan, complaining that such emigrants -were told it would be an easy matter to pay back the loan once they got to Utah, but instead they found themselves destitute "of every comfort of life, with a debt upon his hands that will cost him years of labor to get rid of"; Charles Derry, Autobiography of Elder Charles Derry (1908, republished Independence, M O : Price Publishing Co., 1997), 513-14. 17

304


BOUND FOR ZION The sailing ship International ried more £10 emigrants

car-

than any

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on March 10, 1853. Build in 1853, lost at sea in 1863.

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agent for the PEF, and he -:-Jlli •hi^f-TiMM __w IsPHu-w o u l d arrange for half of i__i_f; t h e m to emigrate. T h e n t w o years later, the o t h e r half could c o m e . This -would "throw the advantages of emigration within the reach of many w h o had n o t b e e n blest w i t h t h e m before." This a r r a n g e m e n t c o n t i n u e d in 1854, but with £ 6 10s required, as the price of emigration had risen. 19 T h e four methods of emigration brought 6,546 emigrants across the Atlantic Ocean in the five years before 1853, and most had gone all the way t h r o u g h to U t a h . B u t the desire to emigrate kept intensifying in Britain, and B r i g h a m Young w a n t e d still m o r e people to build up t h e M o r m o n k i n g d o m . Samuel R i c h a r d s described the increasing fervor: "Many have thought they -would -willingly sacrifice all they had, and u n d e r go almost any hardship that they could endure, if they could only b e gathered w i t h the Saints; and were it not for the watery deep that lies between, we have thought many could scarcely be persuaded from starting on foot, to follow the example of Israel w h e n they went out of Egypt in search of a promised land." 20 In an epistle issued in the fall of 1851, Brigham Young declared that many British Saints "think it a trifle to walk fifteen or twenty miles to hear preaching on the sabbath, and return h o m e at evening, and then stand at their labor the remainder of the week; and can they not walk twenty miles per day for fifty days, for the sake of getting. ..to the h o m e of the Saints in the Valley of the mountains?" 2 1 Although it is true that most were used to walking, Young made it sound so simple—too simple, in fact, w h e n o n e considers that he wrote this just after the emigration for 1851 had ended. T h e seven wagon trains that had made the overland j o u r n e y from Council Bluffs that season had taken an average of 108 days for the t r i p — m o r e than twice the length of time given in the epistle.22 ^ f e T / _ - r .'

19 Millennial Star, November 26, 1853; "Discourse by S. W Richards, delivered in the Tabernacle on Sunday, Oct. 29, 1854," Huntington Library, M o r m o n File, box 12, p. 6. 20 Linforth, "Introduction," 4 2 - 4 3 ; Millennial Star, October 2, 1852. 21 Sixth General Epistle, Millennial Star, January 15, 1852. 22 Deseret News 1989—1990 Church Almanac, 175. Not all were used to walking. Joseph Greaves, a tailor,

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UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

Six m o n t h s later, Young sent the epistle with which this paper opened: "Let all w h o can procure a bit of bread, and one garment on their b a c k . . . d o u b t no longer, but come " T h e poetic images are brilliant and irresistible but also irresponsible. Believers took what Brigham Young said literally; after all, they were the words of the prophet. An 1853 missionary, P e r r e g r i n e Sessions, described the members' credulity: " T h e English Saints were like so many cock robins on a cold morning, ready to swallow all they heard preached from the [Salt Lake] valley" 23 Young's statement encouraged t h e m to set forth in simple faith and trust but with no realistic notion of the rigors of the -western landscape they -would have to traverse.Yet the fervor for gathering to Z i o n was vivid and Samuel W. Richards, president of near, while the hazards were vague and far the British Mission, who first away. proposed the £10 emigrating In the same epistle, Young encouraged tens plan. Probably taken by "Bro. of thousands to emigrate, and "it was even Foster" in June 1846 in Nauvoo, talked of their crossing the plains with hand as described in Richard's diary. carts and wheelbarrows," Samuel Richards said. "I did not feel that it was right for me and my Brethren to sit down without doing anything. I therefore counselled with my Brethren and we finally fixed upon £ 1 0 as the lowest sum for which any person could be emigrated. This put Emigration within the reach of many of the poor saints." Those -who took part in the planning -were probably Richards's counselor and uncle Levi Richards and the presidents of the British Mission districts: Cyrus Wheelock, Jacob Gates, Isaac Haight, Appleton Harmon, Moses Clawson, and R o b e r t Campbell. 24 All except Levi Richards and Cyrus Wheelock had already made the trip to Utah. Thus was born the £ 1 0 emigrating plan, a fifth way to get to U t a h — similar to the PEF plans but separate in its accounting system. Although many Scandinavians had also begun to emigrate, the £ 1 0 plan -was limited wrote about starting across Iowa in 1853, "This 300 miles was one of the greatest trials I have ever passed through, except losing my -wife. I had never been used to walking and it was a great deal of labor to me. I have many a time lay down on the ground and cussed the day that I was born. I am sorry to say it but it is so";Joseph Greaves to cousin, September 14, 1897, LDS Archives, MS 3915. 23 Thomas A. Poulter, "Life of Thomas Ambrose Poulter from His Diary," Utah Pioneer Biographies, 44 vols. (Salt Lake City: Genealogical Society of Utah, 1964), 44:144. 24 "Discourse by S. W. Richards," 6; Millennial Star, July 10, 1852.This meeting may have taken place on July 3, 1852, for Joseph W.Young noted in his diary on that day, "In the evening all the Presidents of conferences met in Council at Prest. S.W Richard's [sic] and talked over the subject of the emigration"; Joseph WYoung, Papers, LDS Archives, MS 1529, vol. 2, p. 15.

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BOUND FOR ZION

to British converts. T h e Millennial Star, the M o r m o n newspaper that served as the p r i m a r y source of M I L L E N N I A L STAR. information in Britain, announced t h e n e w scheme on O c t o b e r 2, 1852, which gave time for it to be No. 88.—Vol. XXV. Satwr-lay, October 3 , ISiiSS. Price One Penny. put into effect before the start of the E | 10 RATION. season of Entigr.'tuon for the Saints walk in, ELS -will jot be the case when Zion next sailing season in January. To get is The fast approaching; many are exerting and Jerusalem shall '•receive the homage of themselves in preparing to leave their all people that dwell upon the earth. The their kindred, and their native land, perils of the deep, as well as trials on all the way to Salt Lake City in one •tohomes, join those who arc more dear to them, land, now lie in the path of the Saints m a far distant region. The invitation of as they journey Zion-ward; and because _?kst Presidency o they first have to ride the billowy deep,, year, the emigrants needed to leave •tk& no means unheeded ; the tidings that go they need not suppose that they must nefrom Zion seem to carry to every cessarily be deprived of the pleasure of Liverpool between January and late forth honest soul, the very pnace that" dwells walking the desert plains, or climhing within her borders; and a desire is kin- the rugged pathway of the mountain dled that cannot be satisfied until they range, by which the. iHiaofu], lovely vales March so that they could be at the become dwellers in her habitations, and of Zion are hid from a tumultuous world. heirs to an inheritance that shall secure "We have proposed that all who can to them her eternal glories. head emigrate the coming outfitting grounds in May and ready • - Some of ihr ( ran c > s, we learn, arefurnish _£10 epervalleys of the mountains; ar.doip:i..ting the removal of more than half and beca.' ragement given numbers in the coming Emigration by naming this small : to start once the grass had grown their season, which indicates that the spirit of erting themselves to go who otherwise gathering is the prevailing influence at the would not have thought of going. But we time. would remind all such as purpose -to emienough to sustain the animals but present On this subject we would therefore grate with £10 per head, that they cannot 'offer a few suggestions. Many have expect to go as comfortable as those who no later than the end of J u n e to thought they would willingly sacrifice all gomeanswithis £20; for while the amount of reduced, the conveniences are they had, and undergo almost any hardthat they could endure, if they could necessarily reduced in proportion. They escape the possibility of encounter- ship only he gathered with the Saints; and cannot expect to have so many horses, were it not for the watery deep that lies cattle, and wagons to haul themselves and we have thought many could luggage over the mountains: and this will ing early snows before r e a c h i n g between, scarcely be persuaded from starting on open tip the way most effectually for many foot, to follow the example of Israel when of the Saints to enjoy that anticipated, privilege of they went out of Egypt in search of a protheir destination. mised land; believing that " what man walking over the plains. They cannot expect to take so much luggage with them, lu..? done man may do." T h e £ 1 0 company plan (which theThegreattimewaters however has not yet come fol •if they have not the cattle and wagons to to be rolled back to the haul it for them. and the continents and islands to be "Upon this subject we have a word of rose to £ 1 3 in 1854) -was essentially north, united, that a highway may encircle the counsel for the Saints, and they will do earth for the ransomed of the Lord to well to pay heed unto it, inasmuch &s by a half-price scheme. The cheap price was based on reducing everything to Announcement of the £10 emia minimum: no extra food and more people gratingptan in the Millennial Star. per -wagon and milk cow, -which meant each person could take less luggage and would receive less milk. The principle of volume buying—keeping the unit price down through discount—also played a part; one receipt shows that Horace Eldredge, a M o r m o n agent, paid $2.50 per person for passage of 221 people from St. Louis to Kansas City when the usual rate that year was $3.00 to $5.00, the higher amount being charged when the river was low, making navigation more difficult.25 To understand the actual experience of the emigrants, one must turn to the diaries and memoirs of the emigrants themselves. Unfortunately, no diaries written by those who traveled on the £ 1 0 / £ 1 3 scheme, except one for the ocean voyage, have been found.26 The eight sources positively identified as written by £ 1 0 emigrants are one letter written right after the company's arrival in Salt Lake City and seven reminiscences. Of these, two -were written by men who became disillusioned with Mormonism: Stephen -1

;

25 Empey file, March-August, 1854, Mormon file, H M 52609, Huntington Library; Millennial Star, May 6, 1854; William A. Empey Diary, LDS Archives, MS 4524, 11 O.John Davis also mentions the principle of buying in volume; John E. Davis, Mormonism Unveiled, or, A Peep into the Principles & Practices of the Latter-day Saints (Bristol, England: C.T.Jefferies, 1856), 23. 26 The one diary is that kept by John Lyon, who sailed on the ship International in 1853. It is reprinted as appendix A in Frederick Stewart Buchanan, " T h e Emigration of Scottish M o r m o n s to Utah, 1849-1900" (master's thesis, University of Utah, 1961), 141-56.

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UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

Forsdick and John E. Davis.27 Forsdick wrote his account with the help of his journal, the whereabouts of-which is unknown; his account is straightforward and does not show bitterness. 28 Welshman John Davis wrote one of the most detailed accounts. It was published within three years of his journey, which gives it more immediacy than most of the others, but after a nine-month stay in Salt Lake City, he went to San Francisco and then by ship back to Great Britain. His book was -written as a warning to others about the "truth" of what converts would find if they went to Utah. 29 T h e six w h o remained in the church are Samuel Claridge, Hannah Cornaby, Joseph Greaves, Mary L. Morris, James Ririe, and Marie Radcliffe Shelmerdine, who wrote the letter. The views of the apostates in describing the difficulties of the trip are echoed closely by those who stayed loyal. Although these latter emigrants may have exaggerated their sufferings in later years to enhance the view of pioneer heroism and their part in it or simply had selective memories, the consistency among the accounts leads one to believe that they agreed on what actually happened. It is hoped that other writings, especially diaries, will be found eventually to refine the description of the trip given here. As ÂŁ 1 0 was half of what it had cost in 1852 for an independent emigrant, those eager to go were warned that they could not "expect to go as comfortable as those who go with ÂŁ 2 0 ; for while the amount of means is reduced, the conveniences are necessarily reduced in proportion." 30 The expenses to be covered were (1) shipping and food from Liverpool to N e w Orleans in steerage; (2) steamboat up the Mississippi River (and, in 1854, the Missouri River) on the lowest deck, where passengers slept however they could among the cargo or sometimes on rough bunks, but food was not included; (3) basic food in the outfitting camp; (4) an outfit for crossing the plains consisting of one tent, one wagon, two yoke of oxen, and two milk cows for every ten people; (5) provisions for every ten people from the outfitting camp to Council Bluffs; and (6) provisions for every ten people starting at Council Bluffs, Iowa, in 1853 and Westport, Missouri, in 1854. The list of provisions issued at Westport in 1854 included, for each group of ten, one thousand pounds of flour, fifty pounds of sugar, fifty pounds of bacon, fifty pounds of rice, thirty pounds of beans, twenty pounds of dried apples and peaches, five pounds of tea, one gallon of vinegar, twenty-five pounds of salt, and ten bars of soap. Added to the diet were milk from the cows and whatever game the emigrants were able to shoot along the way.31 27 Stephen Forsdick, " O n the Oregon Trail to Zion in 1853: Memoirs of Stephen Forsdick," ed. Fletcher W. Birney, Jr., Brand Book of the Denver Westerners 9 (1953): 3 1 - 5 5 , and Stephen Forsdick, Autobiography, MS 164, LDS Archives; Davis, Mormonism Unveiled. 28 See Forsdick, " O n the Oregon Trail to Zion," 31 n. 29 See Davis, Mormonism Unveiled, 4, 46. 30 Millennial Star, October 2, 1852. 31 Linforth, "Introduction," 52. For the 1853 provisions from the outfitting grounds to Council Bluffs, see James Ririe, [Autobiography], Our Pioneer Heritage, comp. Kate B. Carter, 20 vols. (Salt Lake City: Daughters of Utah Pioneers, 1966), 9:355-56; and Forsdick, Autobiography, chap. 10, p. 17.

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BOUND FOR ZION

These provisions appear inadequate by any measure. T h e thousand pounds of flour for ten people meant one hundred pounds per person, or less than a pound per day for a journey that averaged more than a hundred days.32 Captain Randolph B. Marcy of the U S. Army recommended in his handbook for emigrants, The Prairie Traveler, 1.4 pounds of flour per day and Table 1 O n e Day's Provisions for O n e Person o n the Overland Journey Flour Rice Beans Bacon Beef Sugar Dried Fruit Salt Pepper Yeast/saleratus Tea/coffee Vinegar Milk

Brigham Young, 1846 a 1.5 lbs 0.2 oz 1.4 o z d N o mention "A little dried beef" 2.5 oz 0.4 oz 0.6 oz 0.04 oz 0.1 oz 0.1 oz N o mention Share cow 'with 2.5 persons

ÂŁ 1 3 Company 1854b 1 lb 0.8 oz 0.5 oz 0.8 oz N o mention 0.8 oz 0.3 oz 0.4 oz N o mention N o mentione 0.09 oz 0.3 T b s f Share cow with 5 persons?

Capt. R . Marcy, 1859 c 1.4 lbs N o mention N o mention 3.6 oz "Beef driven on the hoof" 3.6 oz "Citric acid" "A quantity" "A quantity" "A quantity" 2.1 oz N o mention N o mention

a

Brigham Young's recommendation for supplies was from Nauvoo to Salt Lake City. For simplicity's sake, the calculations are based on 30 days from Nauvoo to Council Bluffs and 100 days from Council Bluffs to Salt Lake City. Most trips took a few days more than this. Source: Brigham Young to Luther C.White, January 29, 1846, Brigham Young Papers, as quoted in Richard E. Bennett, Mormons at the Missouri, 1846-1852: "And Should We Die..." (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1987), 245 fn. 32. "Supplies were to last from Westport, the 1854 outfitting camp, to Salt Lake City. N o list of the 1853 supplies from Council Bluffs has survived, but the assumption here is that it was similar. For this table, 100 days 'was used, although the trip averaged 105 days from Council Bluffs to Salt Lake City in 1853 and 103 days from Westport in 1854. Source: James Linforth's introduction to Frederick Piercy, Route from Liverpool to Great Salt Lake Valley, edited by Fawn M . Brodie (Cambridge, Mass.: Belknap Press of Harvard University, 1962), 52. c Marcy's recommendations were based on a 110-day trip. Source: Randolph B. Marcy, Ttie Prairie Traveler: A HandBook for Overland Expeditions (1859, reprinted Williamstown, Mass.: Corner House Publishers, 1978), 33, 35-36. "Young recommended 1 bushel for five people. A bushel of navy (white) beans is approximately 55 lbs. e T h e emigrants kept a piece of dough each day to start the next day's batch. Source Stephen Forsdick, " O n the Oregon Trail to Zion in 1853: Memoirs of Stephen Forsdick," ed. F l e t c h e r W Birneyjr., Brand Book of the Denver Westerners 9 (1953): 40. Considered a general cure-all, vinegar was particularly favored to counteract the effects of bad water. Source: Jacqueline Williams, Wagon Wheel Kitchens: Food on the OregonTrail (Lawrence: University of Kansas, 1993), 87-89. ^Because of the difficulty of obtaining them, no company appears to have had what was allowed. Claridge said there was one cow in milk for 14 people. Ririe reported in his company they had one cow for 36 people. Morris wrote that the cows became dry or nearly so, giving only a teacup of milk a day. Sources: S. George Ellsworth, Samuel Claridge: Pioneering the Outposts of Zion (Logan, U t a h : S. George Ellsworth, 1987), 35; James R i r i e , [Autobiography], Our Pioneer Heritage, 9:355;Journal of Mary L. Morris, Journal History, October 10,1853, 2.

32 Deseret News 1989-1990 Church Almanac, 1 7 7 - 7 9 . O f the t h i r t e e n companies listed for 1 8 5 3 , eight give the date at w h i c h they left C o u n c i l Bluffs (Kanesville) o r W i n t e r Q u a r t e r s as well as w h e n t h e y arrived in Salt Lake C i t y . T h e quickest trip was m a d e in 92 days, and the longest t o o k 129 days; t h e average for all was 105 days. For 1854, o f t h e seven c o m p a n i e s for w h i c h a date of departure from W e s t p o r t is k n o w n , o n e t o o k only 91 days, and the longest 112 days; the seven companies averaged 103 days. 33 For a 110-day trip, M a r c y r e c o m m e n d e d for each adult these provisions: 150 lbs flour or its e q u i v a lent in hard bread, 25 lbs b a c o n or p o r k , b e e f driven o n the hoof, 15 lbs coffee, 25 lbs sugar, saleratus o r yeast, salt and pepper. R a n d o l p h B. Marcy, The Prairie Traveler: A Hand-Book for Overland Expeditions, with Maps, Illustrations, and Itineraries of the Principal Routes between the Mississippi and the Pacific (1859, r e p r i n t Williamstown, M A : C o r n e r H o u s e Publishers, 1978), 3 5 - 3 6 .

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1.5 pounds of bacon per -week, and then he cautioned that these were subsistence supplies. 33 B r i g h a m Young himself had in 1846 r e c o m m e n d e d more than half again the amount of flour allotted to the £ 1 3 companies. 34 Table 1 shows a comparison of these three diets, broken down to show what one person was allowed for one day. The calories in one day's provisions for the £ 1 3 companies shown in Table 1 are as follows: Flour, 1,600; rice, 86; beans, 48; bacon, 142; sugar, 27, and dried fruit, 23. Together, these give 1,926 calories. If each person also received two cups of milk per day, at least at the beginning of the trip, the additional 318 calories would bring the total to 2,244. 35 These figures assume that no bacon spoiled or melted away in hot -weather and that no flour was lost by getting wet during river crossings or storms. 36 W i t h the daily allotment for ten people being 5 ounces of dried beans (or about 2 / 3 cup), it seems unlikely that the group cooked beans each day; probably they saved up the allowance and cooked once a week, so the calories given above are o n l y t h e average p e r day. Today's r e c o m m e n d e d d i e t a r y allowances for ages fifteen to fifty are between 2,900 and 3,000 calories for men and 2,200 for women. 37 However, the emigrants expended considerably more calories than the average person as they -walked daily twelve to twenty miles and attended to the myriad camp and animal chores. Perhaps the food was adequate for children and for men and w o m e n over fifty, but for most, especially the active young m e n , it was insufficient. Lansford Hastings pointed out in his Emigrants' Guide that those making the trek West should figure that they -would need double the food they were used to at home. 38 The emigrants supplemented this meager diet with hunting and fishing, though Hastings' book also -warned emigrants against expecting to depend on buffalo, especially if they were traveling in a large group. Nevertheless, the M o r m o n companies did shoot the animals from time to time. Stephen Forsdick said that bet-ween Deer Creek (20 miles east of today's Casper, 34

Young recommended for five people from Nauvoo to Salt Lake City, a 30-day longer trip than from Council Bluffs: 1,000 lbs flour, 100 lbs sugar, 10 lbs rice, 25 lbs salt, 2 lbs pepper, 1/2 lb mustard, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, 5 lbs saleratus, 10 lbs dried apples, 1 bushel beans, 5 lbs dried peaches, a few pounds of dried beef, 1 lb tea, 5 lbs coffee, and 2 or more milk cows; Brigham Young to Luther C.White, January 29, 1846, Brigham Young Papers, as quoted in Richard E. Bennett, Mormons at the Missouri, 1846—1852: "And Should We Die... " (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1987), 245, n32. 35 Calculated using Irma S. R o m b a u e r and Marion Rombauer Becker, "Tables of Equivalents and Conversions," Joy of Cooking (Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill Co., 1962), 557—63; and U. S. Department of Agriculture, Handbook of the Nutritional Value of Foods in Common Units (New York: Dover Publications, 1986), 5, 15, 17, 97, 111, 135, 161. I used calories for navy (white) beans and whole wheat flour, -which were probably similar to the emigrants' types; see Jacqueline Williams, Wagon Wheel Kitchens: Food on the Oregon Trail (Lawrence: University of Kansas, 1993), 5—7, 25—28. 36 Marcy recommended storing bacon in boxes surrounded by bran to help prevent the fat from melting; Marcy, The Prairie Traveler, 30. 37 If women were pregnant or lactating, as many were, they would need between 300 and 500 more calories per day; see National Academy of Sciences, Recommended Dietary Allowances (Washington, D . C : National Academy Press, 1989). 38 Lansford W Hastings, The Emigrants' Guide, to Oregon and California..." (1845; reprint, Bedford, MA: Applewood Books, 1994), 144.

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Wyoming) and I n d e p e n d e n c e R o c k , " A l t h o u g h we saw' buffalo by the thousands, -we only killed two or three." H e also mentions killing sage hens between South Pass and the Green River and that on Sundays, after two or three meetings, the emigrants were free to hunt or fish. Eighteen-year-old M a r y Morris said her father often shot rabbits or prairie chickens. H a n n a h C o r n a b y m e n t i o n e d picking berries, fishing, and hunting. 3 9 In addition, some emigrants reported selling clothing or other items they could spare in o r d e r to stock up o n extra provisions at C o u n c i l Bluffs, a n d Samuel Claridge said that w h e n they reached Fort Laramie, " T h o s e that had got m o n e y bought a few supplies." 40 These strategies did not compensate for the inadequate provisions. M a r y Morris related that " W h i l e our extras lasted our rations were abundant, but -when they -were gone, they were insufficient." About their stay in the o u t fitting camp at Keokuk, Iowa, Marie Radcliffe Shelmerdine wrote to her parents, " O u r food was scant. We was allowed one p o u n d of flour a day and a p o u n d of bacon a week per head." This is somewhat of an exaggeration as they were given a little butter and sugar as well, but as the amounts were small, it is not surprising she did not count them. Stephen Forsdick, h o w ever, wrote that eggs were cheap in Keokuk and that he and his wagon companions made a feast -with bacon and eggs and pancakes. 41 Flour, the staple of the emigrants' diet, was also inadequate for the trip from Keokuk to Council Bluffs, the final jumping-off spot. James Ririe, a Scottish convert, said that each received thirty pounds of flour to last the thirty-day trip. "But," he wrote, "it did not do us At the Bluffs I asked President Haight if I could take 25 pounds of flour extra -with me, as I had seen that in coming from Keokuk to the Bluffs, a pound a day was not sufficient. Abrupdy he said 'We -won't haul it for you sir.'" Although Haight's response seems unduly curt, he -was probably thinking of the extra weight, especially if others also -wanted extra flour. T h e wagons varied in build, but most, -with two yoke of oxen pulling, c o u l d h a n d l e only 2,000 p o u n d s , and 1,500 was the recommended amount. 4 2 T h e leaders had to find a balance bet-ween adequate supplies and the weight that would too quickly exhaust the animals. 39

Forsdick, " O n the Oregon Trail," 40, 44—45; Journal of Mary L. Morris, Journal History, October 10, 1853, 2; Hannah Cornaby, Autobiography and Poems (Salt Lake City: J. C. Graham & Co., 1881), 33—34. "Sage hens" are sage grouse, Centrocercus urophasianus; the prairie chicken would be the greater prairie chicken, Tympanuchus cupido. 40 Ibid., 33; Davis, Mormonism Unveiled, 25; Morris, Journal History, October 10, 1853, 1; Ririe, Our Pioneer Heritage, 9:356; Marie Radcliffe Shelmerdine to her parents, October 29, 1853 (letter owned by Muriel Larsen), in Our Pioneer Heritage, 12:360; Ellsworth, Samuel Claridge, 42. 41 Morris, Journal History, October 10, 1853, 2; Shelmerdine, Our Pioneer Heritage, 12:360; T. Edgar Lyon, Jr., John Lyon: The Life of a Pioneer Poet (Provo: Brigham Young University, 1989), 189; Forsdick, Autobiography, chap. 9, p. 15. The clerk of a PEF company under Appleton H a r m o n reported that the weekly ration in the outfitting camp was 7 lbs of flour and 1.5 lbs of bacon; see Cornelius Bagnall Emigrating Company, Journal, typescript, M S 871, 44, LDS Archives. 42 Ririe, Our Pioneer Heritage, 9:355—56; George R . Stewart, The California Trail: An Epic with Many Heroes (New York: McGraw-Hill Book Co., 1962), 110. O n e guidebook said that one could start with 2,500 lbs if one had four yoke of oxen; see Joel Palmer, Journal of Travels Over the Rocky Mountains (1845—46), as quoted in Gregory M. Franzwa, The Oregon Trail Revisited (Tucson: Patrice Press, 1988), 3 1 .

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O n e wonders h o w Samuel Richards and his counselors thought it possible to travel on such scanty provisions. Maybe they expected that the emigrants would purchase flour along the way, find abundant game, and receive supplies from Utah for the last stage of the journey, as most companies did. Nevertheless, the leaders did not mention such thoughts in their descriptions of the system, and few poor emigrants could afford the high prices charged by the trading posts along the way 43 Perhaps Richards and the others simply became swept up in the gathering enthusiasm, made a push to send as many as possible, and believed God would see them through. According to the plan, each person over the age of eight could take one hundred pounds of luggage—including bedding, clothing, cooking utensils, and tools; those between four and eight years could take fifty pounds; and those under four received no weight allowance.44 The 1,230 pounds of food and 700 pounds of personal luggage (assuming four adults and six children per wagon) would make 1,930 pounds, and this does not include the weight of rifles, tent, cooking pots, churns, and the other equipment needed for the trip, such as axes and blacksmithing tools. There is little doubt the -wagons -were overloaded. In looking again at the list of supplies, one hopes that the bars of soap were large, for each person received only one for the three and a half months of sweaty, dusty, and sometimes muddy traveling. Although a weekly bath -was the norm in that period, the one bar was to cover both bathing and washing clothes. With this, the minimal food, and the overloaded wagons, one can see that the emigrants would indeed not go as "comfortable" as those who had more money for the trip. Initially, it appears that children under the age of one received no discount. W h e n the plan -was announced, Samuel Richards wrote, "But, says one, must I furnish £ 1 0 for my child which is only three months old? Yes, it is included in the estimate. Every child under one is taken free over the ocean; but when they come to take passage upon the land, they are proportionably expensive; and that portion of the £ 1 0 which they will not consume, others of the family will be sure to find use for."45 However, James Linforth, the editor for Frederick Piercy's b o o k recounting the latter's journey to Utah in 1853 which was published by the Liverpool Office of the British Mission, said children under one -went for half price. Confirming this, Samuel Claridge happily wrote in his account, "I then -went to the office to settle for the remainder of my passage and then when S.W Richards told me the baby was only half fare I felt I was rich."46 43

Non-Mormon emigrants bound for Oregon and California might also run short of food, but, being better provided with money than were the ^ 1 0 / / j l 3 emigrants, they were able to buy from better-supplied emigrants or trading posts along the way, or they could trade with Indians; see John D. Unruh, Jr., The Plains Across: The Overland Emigrants and the Trans-Mississippi West, 1840-60 (Urbana: University of Chicago Press, 1993), 145-48, 165-66, 275. 44 Linforth, "Introduction," 52. 45 Millennial Star, October 2, 1852.

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T h e animals and wagons belonged to the emigrants, and once they arrived in Salt Lake City they were to be sold and the proceeds divided among the members of the company 47 John Davis expected to do -well this -way According to his account, the M o r m o n missionaries in Britain w h o accompanied the emigrants to Salt Lake told them that w h e n they sold their wagons and animals, they would realize a profit above their cost because such commodities commanded higher prices in the West. Davis thus expected to finish the trip with almost half of the £ 1 0 he had paid, or about $20 to $25, which he thought would give him a start in Utah. Davis was not alone; Charles Derry, a PEF emigrant -who traveled with a £ 1 3 company, described the same understanding. 48 T h e emigrants' owning the outfit and prepaying for the trip were the primary ways the £ 1 0 / £ 1 3 companies differed from the PEF companies. One other distinction was that missionaries returning to Utah regularly traveled -with the £ 1 0 and independent companies rather than -with the PEE 49 In everything else, the two plans were identical: They shared the same types of accommodations on ships and steamboats, number of people per wagon and tent, a m o u n t of luggage, and quantity and quality of provisions. To join the £ 1 0 company, a British convert had to follow a procedure. First, to reserve his or her place, the emigrant sent £ 1 for each person in the party over one year old to the Liverpool office through the conference president. Next, for each person the convert would forward £ 5 the same way, which money would be sent ahead to the agent on the frontier, w h o would then buy the outfits for the overland journey. The remaining £ 4 , for passage to the outfitting grounds, was due upon arrival in Liverpool before boarding the ship, the Liverpool Office having notified the intended emigrant of the date of sailing. A fine quality of twilled cotton was sent to the ship so that during the voyage the women could make wagon covers and tents according to certain specifications. O n the ship, the emigrants were under the charge of a president appointed by the Liverpool office before departure. These men handled the money until the group arrived at the outfitting camp, where they handed over what remained to the agent there.50 Eight ships sailed from Liverpool between January and early April in 1853 and eight more in 1854, each carrying an average of 329 M o r m o n passengers.51 46

Linforth, "Introduction," 35; Ellsworth, Samuel Claridge, 21. Millennial Star, October 2, 1852; Ririe, Our Pioneer Heritage, 9:357. 48 Davis, Mormonism Unveiled, 13-14,27--28. Derry, Autobiography, 513. 49 Millennial Star, January 27, 1855. 30 Millennial Star, November 20 and 27, 1852; Contributor 11 (Feb 1890): 157; Christopher J. Arthur, Records (5 parts), 1:4-5, Special Collections, Harold B. Lee Library, Brigham Young University, Provo, Utah. 51 Conway B. Sonne, Saints on the Seas: A Maritime History of Mormon Migration, 1830-1890 (Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, 1983), 150-51. Two other ships carried M o r m o n passengers in 1854, but together they carried only 39 Mormons and so are not counted in the figures. 47

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The Millennial Star published an article at the start of the emigration season in 1853. It warned emigrants of the trials they would face in the close quarters of crowded ships and of the dangers in encountering apostates in the valleys of the Mississippi and Missouri rivers, and it encouraged each to "set his face as a flint Zion-ward." Although earlier articles had touched on the overland portion, this one made no mention of the 1,300-mile trek the saints -would have to undertake in order to get to Utah. Emigrant Stephen Forsdick "wrote that when the ship docked in N e w Orleans in March 1853, "Here the first part of our journey came to an end and a good many of us thought that the -worst was over, but we were badly mistaken, as we found before our journey was really ended."52 Except for initial seasickness and some dramatic storms, all the emigrants appeared to have enjoyed the sea voyage and found the organization of the ship and the provisions adequate. 5 3 Even the two w h o later left the M o r m o n faith found it "a remarkable voyage" and "a very fine passage."54 M o r m o n emigrant ships had gained a reputation for being the best on the seas, and British Mission president Samuel Richards was called before a select committee on emigrant ships in the House of Commons to describe the M o r m o n program of organization onboard. His testimony was well received, and both the Parliament and the press praised the system.55 W h e n the sailing ship arrived in N e w Orleans, the M o r m o n agent there, John Brown, arranged for passage up the Mississippi River as quickly as possible to avoid additional expenses in the city. Before leaving the ship, the people -were to divide any food that might remain after a short voyage. This took place according to plan when the Falcon made a voyage of fifty-three days in 1853 and -when the John M. Wood arrived after fifty-five days in 1854. But provisions -were not forthcoming when the Jersey landed in N e w Orleans in March 1853 after only forty-four days, to the great chagrin of the emigrants who had counted on them for their trip up the Mississippi. According to John Davis, three weeks later a little "hard bread, and a small quantity of damaged rice" from the Jersey's stores arrived in the outfitting camp." The cause of this apparent mismanagement is unknown. 56 Each steamboat was met in St. Louis by the six-foot-tall, handsome Horace S. Eldredge, the M o r m o n agent, who once more speedily arranged for the emigrants' transfer to a steamboat to take them north to Keokuk, Iowa, the outfitting ground in 1853, or up the Missouri River to Kansas City, Missouri, close to the 1854 camp in Westport. Sometimes Eldredge 52

Millennial Star, January 15, 1853; Forsdick, Autobiography, chap. 8, p. 14. One possible exception is Hannah Cornaby, who expressed great fear of the water but also mentioned the close bond felt by all the saints; Cornaby, Autobiography and Poems, 79. 54 Forsdick, Autobiography, chap. 8, p. 13; Davis, Mormonism Unveiled, 6. 55 Millennial Star, August 19, 1854; Jensen, "The British Gathering to Zion," in Truth Will Prevail, 178. 56 Cornelius Bagnall Emigrating Company, Journal, 43; Linforth, "Introduction," 56; Davis, Mormonism Unveiled, 9—10, 16. Davis's bitterness makes one skeptical of this story, but other emigrants corroborate his account on many other points. 53

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was able to arrange to move the party from the New Orleans steamboat right o n t o the next o n e -within a few hours, which saved t h e e x pense of storing the luggage and finding a place for the e m i grants to stay.57 These quick transfers in N e w Orleans and St. Louis saved money, but the emigrants Outfitting camp at Keokuk, 1853. had only the briefest view of two important Steel engraving by Charles Fenn cities in their new country. However, having from sketch by Frederick Piercy. been warned of the sinful ways of those cities and told that New Orleans was the "first Hell" through which they must pass and St. Louis the "second Hell," all appear to have welcomed their speedy progress toward Zion. 58 When they arrived at the outfitting grounds, the emigrants were turned over to the care of the frontier agent, who was Isaac Haight in 1853 and William Empey in 1854. The agent and his assistants, who became leaders of the companies across the plains, were assigned to buy oxen and cows, often driving them to camp over long distances; arranging for the wagons to be made to order in Cincinnati and St. Louis and brought by steamboat to the camp; and buying ox yokes, tent poles, chains, axes, Dutch ovens, ropes, and provisions. The emigrants made some tent poles and pegs in camp while they waited for their animals and wagons.59 As the cattle and -wagons arrived, the campground turned into a circus of sorts, or as Joseph Greaves put it, "When the cows came, life was something new for a tailor." The animals were not used to working together, and the urban emigrants had to be taught to handle the teams. " O u r cattle were 57

Millennial Star, May 21, 1853. Davis, Mormonism Unveiled, 9-10. Davis said that Kanesville (Council Bluffs) was called the "third Hell" (22). 59 Isaac Haight, Journal, August 1852-February 1862, MS 1384, 44, 47-48, 52, LDS Archives; Horace S. Eldredge, Journal, September 1852-Apnl 1854, MS 8795, reel 1, item 10, February 22 and March 21, 1853, LDS Archives; Appleton M. Harmon, Appleton Milo Harmon Goes West, ed. Maybelle Harmon Anderson (Berkeley, CA: The Gillick Press, 1946), 161; Peter Mclntyre, "Autobiography of Peter Mclntyre," MS 3261, 39, LDS Archives. Isaac Haight, forty years old in 1853, had been a member of the Nauvoo police and was later implicated in the Mountain Meadows Massacre. 58

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.* . :

L E G E N D

" f c » £ l 0 Lifiigr-atoig C-Tip_l-,y - '-•i;-5J From KtKifaik. IA •"•'-* £ i 3 __m?ara*^ Comrsiv-' - >i&H 1rom Westport, feK) ~^—- Rafiicfelb-wcd -ry b,-'r. rT-^i.-ri fp-'i <-ff Oregon Tmff) "•**-- Sscttori -st Oregon l/sii mt u s s d by th&se groups - — - t-tafc and iKreitesrini Raundarisfi

principally raw and our teamsters entirely so. Routes taken in 1853 and 1854 T h e y w e r e r i g h t from t h e f a c t o r i e s in by the £10 and £13 company England and many of them had never seen an emigrants. ox t e a m , " -wrote J o h n B r o w n , t h e N e w Orleans agent -who had arrived in Keokuk with the last party in 1853 and led a company across the plains. James Ririe -wrote of his doubts, "I did not know how we could get through the R o c k y Mountains -with wooden axles, oxen, and a stick across the oxens' necks to pull by. I had never seen any such outfit. American ways -were all new to us." Hannah Cornaby wrote that -watching the men yoke the oxen "-was the most laughable sight I had ever -witnessed."60 Eventually, the frontier agent sent out companies one by one, often in mixed groups—PEF, £ 1 0 , and independent—for he oversaw all three classes. In 1853 Haight organized nine companies varying in size from 79 to 400 emigrants. In 1854 Empey put together eight companies, one having 550 emigrants. W h e n the last company departed, the agent went by horse from group to group to check on their progress and take care of problems, reaching Salt Lake City first so that he could greet them there upon arrival.61 Operations, however, did not go as planned. T h e monumental problem the frontier agent faced -was procuring livestock, which had become scarce and costly. Ever since the Gold Rush had brought thousands of hungry 60 Joseph Greaves to cousin, September 14, 1897; John Brown, Autobiography of Pioneer John Brown, 1820-1896, ed.John Z. Brown (Salt Lake City: Stevens & Wallis, 1941), 132; Ririe, Our Pioneer Heritage, 9:355; Cornaby, Autobiography and Poems, 32. 61 Deseret News 1989-1990 Church Almanac, 177-79; Linforth, "Introduction," 53; Millennial Star, November 12, 1853.

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miners to California, the price of beef had soared there. Speculators bought up cattle in the eastern states and drove them across the plains to the mining camps. The profits were enormous. In May 1853 the adventurous Italian count Leonetto Cipriani set out from Westport for California with 500 cows, 600 oxen, 60 horses, and 40 mules, which had cost him $35,000. H e expected to make $200,000 in California even if he lost half the stock, a profit of more than 600 percent. Another speculator, John Hackett, set out in 1853 from Texas. H e started with a herd of 937 cattle; by the time he reached California, he had only 182 remaining, but he still made money. Frederick Law Olmstead, traveling as a journalist to the Southwest in early 1854, reported seeing a California-bound "cattle train." The cattle had cost $14 per head in Texas, and the men expected to sell them in California for $100 each, a profit of more than 600 percent. 62 Cyrus Wheelock, who led one of the emigrant companies in 1853, wrote to Samuel Richards when he arrived in St. Louis at the end of March: Elders Haight and Eldridge [sic] were off up the country in search of s t o c k — T h e California speculators have their agents out through all the Western States [i.e., Iowa, Illinois, and Missouri], buying up all cattle, horses, and sheep that they can lay hold of, and sending them off by tens of thousands to the markets on the Pacific coast, where it is said they cornmand an incredible price.These operations...make prices enormous, compared with what they were some two or three years since, or even as late as last season.63

W h e n one considers that Fort Kearny recorded 105,792 cattle as having passed there by the middle of August 1853, it is hardly surprising that finding stock was difficult.64 T h e men assisting Isaac Haight ranged far into Missouri and Illinois and then had a long drive to get the animals to camp in Iowa. Appleton H a r m o n said they had to go as far as Pettis C o u n t y Missouri, some 200 miles southwest of Keokuk, where they bought 805 oxen; they then spent a day branding the animals before starting the drive north. Heavy rains and wind that season made streams hazardous to cross and further delayed getting the stock to camp. H a r m o n -wrote that they progressed "-with exceeding toil through new country, guarding our cattle on the prairie, nights. The roads -were much cut up and heavy with the late rains. The streams had to be crossed, and several times we were obliged to draw some of the cattle out of the mud and mire with ropes." Also on that cattle-fetching trip, Joseph W Young bewailed, "This was one of the most severe & trying trips that man ever undertook...twenty-one days having to drive cattle all day & guard them at night, ferry & swim many streams of watter which were swollen to full bankes."65 62 Leonetto Cipriani, California and Overland Diaries of Count Leonetto Cipriani from 1853 through 1871, trans, and ed. Ernest Falbo (Portland, O R : Champoeg Press, 1962), 72; David Dary, Cowboy Culture: A Saga of Five Centuries (New York: Alfred Knopf, 1980), 99; Frederick Law Olmsted, A Journey Through Texas, or a Saddle-Trip on the Southwestern Frontier (1857; reprint Austin: University ofTexas Press, 1978), 274. 63 Millennial Star, May 14, 1853. 64 Dary, Cowboy Culture, 96. 65 Haight, Journal, 52-59; Eldredge, Journal, April 5, 1853; Harmon, Appleton Milo Harmon Goes West, 159-160 Joseph W.Young, Papers, 122.

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W i t h the higher price for livestock, the agents had to stretch the outfits. Twelve p e o ple rather than ten were assigned to a wagon and tent. W i t h more people and their food allotment per -wagon, the load of everything else had to be reduced, so luggage -was cut almost in half.66 As Stephen Forsdick related, " W e -were p r o m i s e d in E n g l a n d that -we could each take a hundred pounds across the plains. Before we left K e o k u k , -we had to throw away our trunks, boxes, and some of our books, and make bags for our clothing, so that -we probably averaged sixty pounds each." Marie Shelmerdine wrote to her parIsaac C. Haight, agent in charge of ents, "We had to sell all our books and our bed tick and flocks [mattresses] and best blanprocuring oxen, wagons, supplies, kets and many things to lighten our luggage." and provisions for the emigrants James Ririe reported that one milk cow had in 1853. Photo probably taken in to be shared by thirty-six people instead of 1860s; photographer unknown. five, and the cow died -when they reached the Sweetwater River. 67 Bacon was reduced from two pounds per person per -week to three-fourths of a pound. 68 Having run short of money, the agents had to choose bet-ween borrowing or making arrangements for some of the emigrants to remain on the frontier and find jobs and homes, -with the hope they could get them to Utah the following year. T h e agents decided to borrow. Haight, recognizing that the wagons were too heavy for two yoke of oxen to pull, noted in his diary, "Started to go to St. Louis to negotiate a loan of some eight thousand dollars to purchase another yoke of cattle to each waggon but failed to obtain the money and returned [to Keokuk] much cast down in my mind as the season was getting late and the saints having some fourteen hundred miles to travel to the valley -with very heavy loads." H e then turned to the PEF for a loan. H e also asked to borrow money from at least one wealthy individual. Christopher J. Arthur related that Haight came to his father, Christopher A. Arthur, in Keokuk and asked for a loan; his father lent him $1,000, which was paid back after Arthur and Haight reached Salt Lake

66 Haight, Journal, 60—61. John Davis, however, said that in his 1853 company led by Joseph W.Young, death and apostasy reduced the company's number by about 100, once again making about ten people to a -wagon; see Davis, Mormonism Unveiled, 23. 67 Forsdick, " O n the Oregon Trail," 38; Shelmerdine, Our Pioneer Heritage, 12:360; Ririe, Our Pioneer Heritage, 9:355. 68 Davis, Mormonism Unveiled, 24. This reduction is a discrepancy with the list of provisions given earlier and in Table l . A s those figures were based on the 1854 £ 1 3 company rations, one must assume that in 1853 the emigrants started off with a slightly better allowance, at least for bacon, or that Davis failed to recall the correct amount.

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City.69 Besides cutting back on the outfits and borrowing money, the c o m panies dealt with shortages as they neared Salt Lake City by sending m e n ahead to request assistance.70 T h e agents -were challenged beyond what they could have imagined. Isaac Haight a number of times admitted how "oppressed" he felt by the responsibility of outfitting the emigration. Joseph W.Young exclaimed, " N o one can form a correct idea of the perplexity of fiting [sic] up a company of people w h o are unacquainted with traveling for a j o u r n e y over the plains." T h e agents must have realized that their predicament was forcing them to stretch things too far, putting everyone at risk. As the last of the 1853 companies started out, Haight, having done -what he could to outfit them, but with doubts about its adequacy wrote, "We all lef[t] camp bidding Keokuk and its inhabitants fare-well and -went out to the end of the plank."71 One must listen to the £ 1 0 company emigrants to fathom the effect of the food shortages. James R i r i e said the salt, sugar, and tea were gone before Fort Laramie, the halfway point, and some had finished their flour as -well. W i t h m o r e than 500 miles to go before reaching U t a h , the cattle began to give out: " W h e n they could no longer work they -were driven ahead of the train. W h e n they could n o t -walk any longer, they were butchered for beef and divided among the company. But such beef! It did keep the most of us alive until we got to Salt Lake," recorded Ririe. T h e usually disgruntled J o h n Davis described a near-revolution over the -way food -was apportioned in the camp just beyond Fort Laramie, but he did not agree with the complainers: "Some contended the victuals were not fairly divided, but I believe they were wrong." Hannah Cornaby wrote that her group began to have serious trouble just after South Pass, w h e n they were still more than 200 miles from Salt Lake City. Marie Shelmerdine -wrote that her company finished its flour three weeks before they reached the Salt Lake Valley (i.e., someplace between Ft. Laramie and Independence R o c k ) and everything else long before that. She added, " T h e brethren came from the valley -with some flour for us or -we should have perished on the way." Joseph Greaves described his terrible hunger: "I was so hungry the latter part of our j o u r n e y that I had made up my mind that as soon as I got in the valley of Salt Lake I would commense [sic] to beg T h e people 72 commenced to beg at every house they passed." N o t all survived to reach the valley. James R i r i e told of the family that 69 Haight, Journal, 60—61; Millennial Star, November 26, 1853; Arthur, Records, 1:5. Christopher A. Arthur appears to have been a generous man, having already paid for the fare of forty people he brought with him from Wales; see Lyon, John Lyon, 172. Haight was not able to borrow enough to purchase an extra yoke of oxen per wagon. 70 The records are incomplete because of a paper shortage that suspended the publishing of the Deseret News at the height of the emigration season from the end of July to October 1853, the time when appeals for aid were normally published; Contributor 13 (August 1892): 466. 71 Joseph WYoung, Papers, 123; Haight, Journal, 52, 58-59, 63. 72 Ririe, Our Pioneer Heritage, 9:355—56; Davis, Mormonism Unveiled, 25; Cornaby, Autobiography and Poems, 35; Shelmerdine to her parents, October 29, 1853; Greaves to cousin, Sept. 14, 1897.

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shared his wagon, the father of whom, Junius Crossland, a thirty-two-year-old umbrella maker from London, stinted himself in order to feed his three oldest children, a fourth having been born in the camp at Keokuk. At the Green Pdver he became sick with mountain fever, and in his weakened condition he died west of Fort Bridger, eighty miles from Salt Lake City. "He said to me one day Tf I die, I should like to write my own epitaph.' 'What would you write, Brother Crossland?' 'I should write, I am murdered by the unwise procedure of the Ten Pound Company'" Stephen Forsdick, of the same company, finished the story: "It was pitiful to hear the wife's lamentations when we took him out of the wagon, sewed up in a sheet to bury him." 73 O n e must not forget, however, that the emigrants believed they were reenacting the exodus of the Israelites from Egypt, and most expected and even relished trials and hardship to s o m e d e g r e e as a test of t h e i r worthiness. 74 John Davis, usually so negative about the trip, expressed the sentiment most probably felt: "I thought nothing of it [the privations], if the Lord should spare my life to reach the journey's end; we all kept up our spirits pretty -well; I made up my mind to endure everything in order to reach the promised land, this sort of feeling seemed generally to pervade the whole camp." In addition, the emigrants experienced times of joy and assurance that they were following God's will. Mary Morris wrote that when the evening's work was done, "In the early part of our journey, when the days were long, we would sit on the yokes of the oxen and sing hymns." 75 W h e n the emigrants finally arrived in Salt Lake City, Marie Shelmerdine lamented, "We landed here destitute of every comfort of life." Ririe noted that the cattle and wagons -were sold as promised and the emigrants received $3.50 each in credit from the Tithing Office, an amount confirmed by the £ 1 0 company account book. 76 John Davis, who apostatized nine months later, was sadly disappointed to receive his $3.50, having expected $20 to $25 from the sale of the stock and wagons. H e complained that they were not shown records of the sale and the $3.50 was in Tithing Office scrip, not in cash.77 Only one letter relating to the 1854 £ 1 3 company emigrants has been 73

Ririe, Our Pioneer Heritage, 9:356-57; Forsdick, " O n the Oregon Trail to Zion," 47. D&C 136:31 reads, "My people must be tried in all things, that they may be prepared to receive the glory... of Zion; and he that will not bear chastisement is not worthy of my kingdom." 75 Davis, Mormonism Unveiled, 24; Morris, Journal History, October 10, 1853,3. 76 Shelmerdine to her parents, October 29, 1853; Ririe, Our Pioneer Heritage, 9:357-58; Ten Pound Company Account Book, Journal, "PEF Co. Financial Accounts, 1849-1855," C R 376 2, reel 19, fldr 70, 9-30, LDS Archives. I am indebted to Ronald G. Watt of the LDS Archives for helping me interpret these accounts. 77 Davis, Mormonism Unveiled, 13-14, 27-28. Charles Derry also complained about the way the sale of the animals belonging to the £ 1 3 companies was handled: "When they arrived there [Salt Lake City] and each individual expected to receive his portion, instead of this being the case, the church brand was put on every animal and the name of the church (B.Y.) put on the wagons, and even if some poor man had found a stray ox, cow, or horse on the plains, the captain of his company would claim it on behalf of the church. But the poor man must be content if he gets there free of debt, without ever thinking of having what, in his simplicity, he supposed was his right"; see Derry, Autobiography, 513. 74

320


BOUND FOR ZION Account (•Mt m

i/a/Y Jr//(-i> &/£&.

1853. First page of the £10 company account

: ,

book for the £10 company in

book.

•y. • St -,.Lwi V« ,i.'a->,,i

Mdsir,

found. Frederick Andrew w r o t e to S a m u e l R i c h a r d s /fees?//. £M££ from Stockport, near IK /£. &,Mf.Mu Manchester, England, in early J a n u a r y t h a t year. H a v i n g • #ey4S' heard from M a r i e Shelmerd i n e a n d o t h e r s , h e asked Richards's advice about how his family should emigrate. "We are still determined to go," he wrote, "but we see no necessity of p u n i s h i n g o u r s e l v e s -when it can be a v o i d e d . N e a r l y all t h e letters that has [sic] come from the Saints that went from Stockport last spring advise the Saints not to go by the ten pound company as they are so much punished and short of provisions." In her letter, Marie Shelmerdine had recommended that he wait, even if it meant several years, until he could afford to start the trek with eight to a wagon and three yoke of oxen, and then "you could come comfortable without fear." Samuel Richards must have written a persuasive response to Andrew, for Andrew ignored Shelmerdine's advice, d o n a t e d altogether £ 5 0 to the PEF, and t h e n emigrated under its auspices (the "donation and loan" plan). 78 The 1854 season saw problems similar to those of 1853 and others as well. First, there were fewer ships available in Liverpool because of the demand created by the Crimean War, which resulted in sailing delays and higher prices. 79 Fares had risen for the steamboats from N e w Orleans to St. Louis, from $2.50 per adult in 1853 to $3.00 or $3.50 in 1854.80 A yoke of oxen went from $65 in 1853 to between $75 and $110. In addition, difficulty in procuring wagons delayed the start of the companies across the plains by three -weeks.81 Worries about rising costs in 1854 suddenly seemed unimportant when the emigrants, especially the Scandinavians w h o arrived first, were struck by cholera on the rivers and at the outfitting ground at Westport, Missouri. Those -who died on the rivers -were swiftly buried in its soft banks -when the steamboat stopped to take on -wood; family and friends -were all the more grief-stricken at having to quickly leave their loved ones behind in unmarked graves in the wilderness. William Empey, the outfitting agent %9

&fff4%£M

78

Frederick Andrew to S. Richards, January 10, 1854, Frederick Chadwick Andrew, Diary, MS 1864, LDS Archives; Shelmerdine to her parents, October 29, 1853. For Andrew's donation, see passenger list for John M. Wood, sailed March 12, 1854, "Emigration Records from the Liverpool Office," LDS Archives. 79 Appendix 1 in Piercy, Route from Liverpool, 130; Millennial Star, May 13, 1854. 80 Millennial Star, April 30, 1853, April 22, 1854,June 1.0,1854. 81 Haight, Journal, 53; Millennial Star, July 29, 1854.

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UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

that year, lamented in his diary in March, "It is awful to behold to see them taken & are dead in a few hours, turning black blue & to see the sufferings that they under go & to see the patience that they manifest & say all is well & pass off." However, when writing to Samuel Richards three months later, he saw meaning in those losses: "Truly the word of the Lord, through the Prophet Joseph, is receiving a more extensive fulfillment. T h e Destroyer rideth upon the -waters, and the day is at hand w h e n none shall go up to Zion except the pure in heart." 82 Although the emigrants believed they would be tested to prove their worthiness, church historian Andrew Jenson, from his perspective of the 1890s, saw the tragedy for what it was: "In the whole history of the Latter-day Saints emigration, scarcely any thing is met with that is more heart-rending than some of the scenes of 1854, with the exception of the hand-cart experiences two years later."83 T h e 1854 emigrant company led by Horace Eldredge suffered from lack of animals even after they started, finding they needed another twelve or fifteen yoke of lead oxen to move all the wagons at once. While men -went back to buy more stock, the company struggled on by moving as many -wagons forward as possible and then taking the oxen back to bring up the remaining ones, making some of the animals cover the same ground three times. With still two hundred miles to go before they even reached the halfway mark of Fort Laramie, their troubles were compounded when their stock stampeded. In a letter to Brigham Young, Eldredge -wrote, "They broke away with a terrific rush and roar, and fled into the desert southwards, and amid the continuous sand-hills and buffaloes about 120 head -were irrecoverably lost." After four days of searching, the company yoked up the cows and all the loose stock to move on slowly, -while Eldredge -went ahead, hoping to get assistance from other M o r m o n companies or to buy more oxen at Fort Laramie. 84 In the same letter to Young, Horace Eldredge and the others -with him requested help. " T h e meat in our camp will soon be gone. We have flour enough to do us until we reach the South Pass [in southwest Wyoming]. We do not need many wagons sent from the valley, but we want plenty of teams. A very few horses and mules... would not be amiss, as we are now very destitute." 85 An appeal for aid for all the companies -was published in the Deseret News at the end of August 1854. T h e M o r m o n s -were exhorted to respond not just from brotherly kindness but because "We are all one temporally as well as spiritually, literally as -well as figuratively, or we are not -what -we profess to b e — " 8 6 T h e calls from Brigham Young, the bishops, and the newspaper 82 Empey, Diary, 110; Millennial Star, July 29, 1854. The concept of gathering the "pure in heart" comes from D & C 97:21. 83 Contributor 13 (Sep 1892): 512. 84 Deseret News, August 31, 1854, as quoted in Journal History, August 8, 1854, 2-4; Millennial Star, October 28, 1854. 85 Deseret News, August 31, 1854. 86 Deseret News, August 31, 1854, as quoted in Journal History, August 26, 1854, 1.

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BOUND FOR ZION

resulted in substantial help. In his letter of in- Westport, Missouri, where the structions to those charged with taking the Mormons outfitted in 1854. food and teams back, Young laid out how it Painting by William Henry -was to be handled: The items must be paid for or arrangements made for future payment; the price of flour was to be six cents a pound plus one or two cents more for each hundred miles it was transported; and for the £ 1 3 company members, the transactions must be carried out bet-ween the captain of the company and the captain of the wagons bringing help so that proper accounting could be made.87 N o diaries or reminiscences by the £ 1 3 emigrants of 1854 have come to light, but undoubtedly the stories would have been similar to those of 1853. One reason for the paucity of accounts is that in 1853 there -were 957 emigrants in the £ 1 0 companies, whereas in 1854 there were only eighty-six in the £ 1 3 companies. The cause for the dramatic drop was a new twist on the plan that Samuel Richards had devised: "I took upon myself the responsibility of emigrating all w h o could raise £ 1 0 , and of making them responsible to the [PEF] Company for the remainder, and this I considered much better than allowing them to stay in the old country another year to raise the other £ 3 , for in so doing they -would lose one year All felt desirous to embrace this opportunity and hence the greatest portion of the emigration was the past season under the regulations of the Fund Company." Thus, many of those who were actually £ 1 3 emigrants were not listed as such but -were listed in the PEF records. In addition, Brigham Young made more funds available for the PEF in 1854, increasing the Saints' interest in emigrating under its means.88

87

Record of Robert Campbell's company, written by Thomas Sutherland, clerk, Journal History, October 28, 1854,25-26. 88 "Discourse by S.W Richards," 6; Millennial Star, October 22, 1853.

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UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

Richards's move eventually led to the demise of the £ 1 0 / £ 1 3 plan. O n January 13, 1855, the Millennial Star announced that because of price increases the new plan would now cost £ 1 5 . But a week later the paper reported that the £ 1 5 plan would be subsumed by the PEF. Franklin Richards, Samuel's brother and the new president of the British Mission, explained, "We fully anticipate that this arrangement will produce not only a more effective accomplishment of the overland journey, but of the sea and river passages. The Saints -will also feel more satisfied in committing the entire control of their emigration to the systematized operations of the P. E. F. Company." 89 From an accounting standpoint as -well, it made sense to eliminate the £ 1 5 plan; moving it into the PEF simplified bookkeeping and, as Brigham Young expressed it, "will save much perplexity to our agents."90 Unfortunately, the rise in prices that influenced the termination of the £ 1 0 / £ 1 3 scheme along with the drought and grasshopper plagues of 1855 in Utah stressed the financing of the PEF, and this led directly to the development of the handcart plan for the 1856 emigration. 91 Although short-lived, the £ 1 0 and £ 1 3 companies played a significant role in gathering the poor to Utah. In 1853 more than 41 percent of the emigrants came through its auspices, equal to the percent that came independently. Over the two years, 1,043 emigrants came this way, a fourth of the total. Desiring to gather the Saints before the "last days" and to build up the population of Utah quickly, Brigham Young had whipped up emigration fever among the converts, but it remained for the twenty-eightyear-old British Mission president, Samuel W Richards, to find a way to effect the nearly impossible. His efforts started the peak period of M o r m o n emigration. It is somewhat ironic that the same church leaders w h o received high praise for the manner in which they shipped emigrants out of Great Britain fell short in planning the overland portion. By 1853 the M o r m o n s had had six years of experience in crossing the plains, but moving emigrants West still proved to be a much more complicated task than arranging the sea voyages. Richards deserves credit for his creativity but, along with the others who participated in the planning, also bears responsibility for faulty calculations. The problems of too much enthusiasm, too little food, and too many people to a wagon were compounded by factors out of M o r m o n control, particularly the spectacular rise in the price of livestock. T h e £ 1 0 / £ 1 3 c o m p a n y plan -was based on r e d u c i n g everything to a minimum, leaving no room for the unforeseen. Taking place during the first years in which the Mormons moved large numbers of poor members from Great Britain all the way through to Utah, 89 Millennial Star, January 20, 1855. Leonard Arrington, in Great Basin Kingdom: Economic History of the Latter-day Saints, 1830-1900 (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1966), 99, states that there was a £ 1 5 company for 1855, but that is not strictly the case. 90 Millennial Star, August 11, 1855. 91 William W Slaughter and Michael Landon, Trail of Hope: The Story of the Mormon Trail (Salt Lake City: Shadow Mountain, 1997), 114-17.

324


BOUND FOR ZION

the emigration -was still a remarkable feat of organization. Horace Eldredge, the St. Louis agent, summarized its accomplishment: "In the spring of 1853, our emigration from Europe amounted to about three thousand souls and required over three hundred -wagons and nearly two thousand head of cattle. It required an immense labor to deliver these at the overland starting point, besides purchasing the provisions, outfits and all the necessaries for a three or more months' camp life."92 Wallace Stegner recognized the unique organization: "These -were not groups of young and reckless adventurers, nor -were they isolated families or groups of families. They were literally villages on the march, villages of a sobriety, solidarity, and discipline unheard of anywhere else on the -western trails "93 The Mormons—leaders and emigrants—were convinced the time was short before God would scorch the earth, destroying all w h o had not fled to Zion. They also believed God would try them on the way and that only if they endured the hardships, persevered, and proved worthy would they succeed. And many did. But in spite of the zeal, the creative plan, and the remarkable organization, perhaps a half-starved £ 1 0 e m i g r a n t w h o responded to Brigham Young's alluring words and suffered from the high prices and short provisions should have the last word. As James Ririe saw it, "It was a rough journey, taking it all in all."94

92 Quoted in Edward W Tullidge, The History of Salt Lake City and Its Founders (Salt Lake City: Edward WTullidge, 1886), 666. 93 Wallace Stegner, The Gathering of Zion: The Story of the Mormon Trail (Salt Lake City: Westwater Press, 1981), 11. 94 Ririe, Our Pioneer Heritage, 9:358.

325


T

UTAH DEPARTMENT OF TRANSPORTATION, USHS

Glimpses of Ice Skating and Coasting in Utah By MIRIAM B. MURPHY and CRAIG FULLER

"But when the first cold days roll round And the hillside's smooth and white, I take my sled and coasting go; Oh, it is such a delight!"1 For many Utahns whose recollections extend back decades to a time before most homes were heated by natural gas or electricity; before snowplows w i t h Children sledding at Fifth North their massive steel blades prowled city streets and Center Street, Salt Lake City, and country roads; before all-season radial early twentieth century. The stop tires were standard features on automobiles; before ski lifts, ski schools, and indoor skating sign was installed by Lester Wire, rinks, winter was time for coasting, ice skat- head of the city's traffic squad ing, sleighing, and having fun. and inventor of the first stoplight Horse-drawn sleighs were very popular at in 1914. Miriam B. Murphy, a former associate editor of the Utah Historical Quarterly, is a member of the advisory board of editors of the Utah Historical Quarterly. Dr. Craig Fuller is a historian at the Utah State Historical Society.

Ogden Morning Examiner,January 31, 1910.

326

s*op


GLIMPSES OF ICE SKATING

the end of the nineteenth century. Elizabeth B. Stevens of Millard County recalled: "I can remember going for a sleigh ride but it was one my father had made. H e had put runners on [it], and it was one we had used on the farm a lot. We used to didn't have the snow that they have here in Holden. And we didn't have no sled to coast down hills because there were no hills. The country down there is flat, really flat. But I can remember him making a sleigh and he'd hook up the horses and he took us for...rides over the fields. We'd wrap up the hot flat irons in gunny sacks to put in the sleigh so our feet wouldn't get cold " 2 O n many cold winter nights in rural West Jordan, groups of "young folks would pile into a big bobsleigh with four prancing horses...and over the roads, snow-packed and frozen" they would go, Clara B. Richards fondly remembered. "There were always plenty of warm quilts and sometimes hot rocks, and with candy and peanuts, jokes, songs and laughter we sped along with the clear cold light of the m o o n upon us. What better time could one ask to have?" 3 "People of comfortable standing and plenty of means had their own horses and buggies and in winter their own sleighs," Walter A. Kerr of Ogden remembered. "In the [eighteen] eighties sleighing was very popular in Ogden. It was not an uncommon sight to see a well-built and beautiful sleigh drawn through the main streets of Ogden. N o one ever thought of removing the snow [from the streets]. Sleighing parties for young people were a very common thing, and on a cold night in winter the sound and tinkling of bells of the horses was...quite common on Main Street."4 People living in Salt Lake City and Ogden likely purchased their sleighs from Consolidated Wagon and Machine Company, a trusted local manufacturer of wagons, buggies, and farm implements. Bobsleighing continued to be a favorite winter activity well into the twentieth century. In Midway, Wasatch County, some of the older teenage boys turned the pastime into a more heart-pounding sport. Kay Probst, w h o grew up in Midway and later became the town's postmaster, recalled that when he was very young in the 1930s, "Everybody used to feed their cattle and w h e n they'd come home from that, why a lot of them would bring the front bob of their bobsleigh down there [near Coleman's Store on Midway's main street] with their team hooked to them. They'd see how much they could shine.... They would get the team a going down here and...get them to pivot, ...and that sleigh would just slide sideways clear around. They'd keep it a going. Some of them got to be real good at it. And they let them kids hang on the other side." Probst called this bobsled stunt "shinning." 5 2

Elizabeth B. Stevens oral history interview, September 28, 1974, Pahvant Oral History Project, copy at Utah State Historical Society. Punctuation corrected. 3 Clara B. Richards, Treasured Memories and West Jordan History, 1847-1866, (Salt Lake City, 1966), 73. 4 Walter A. Kerr, "Reminiscences of Ogden in the Eighties," typescript, MS A 851-2, Utah State Historical Society. 5 Kay Probst, interview by Craig Fuller, July 20, 2001, Midway, Utah, USHS.

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UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

O u t d o o r w i n t e r activities became even more popular with the advent of the clip-on ice skate and the "Flexible Flyer," an innovation that r e v o l u t i o n i z e d sledding. Before 1 8 8 9 , -when S a m u e l Leeds A l l e n of Pennsylvania invented his "Flexible Flyer," -winter sleds were small wooden affairs with stiff wooden runners. The sled had to either be constantly pushed or pulled to maintain I m o v e m e n t , and it lacked maneuverability. g Such sleds -were used for utilitarian purposes: | transporting small children or hauling small 5 I amounts of cargo across crusted snow and ice. *••**• \^^,&"^ ill The Flexible Flyer, however, was designed for | individual riders or coasters to "fly" d o w n 3 hills independent of pushers or pullers. Allen's i n v e n t i o n replaced the w o o d e n runners with a pair of flexible steel runners Sleighriders, n.d. that curved upward at the front of the sled. T h e steel runners were designed to permit some flexibility near the center of each steel runner, and -when the rider pulled the cross handle left or right, the sled turned correspondingly. Skilled coasters developed a technique to increase the maneuverability of their sleds by dragging their feet to act like a boat's rudder. The Flexible Flyer was, according to Probst, the "Cadillac" of the new flexible sleds. Delbert Fowler recalled, " O n e of my choicest possessions was a flexible flyer, which I had most of my life. That was a sign of having something worthwhile." 6 In his autobiography, Carl Erwin Nelson recalled how much he "coveted" a Flexible Flyer. " W h e n I was five or six years old... several of my friends had them and they -were a status symbol of the highest order. If you had any other sleigh beside a Flexible Flyer, you just weren't in the top strata." For weeks prior to Christmas he "teased and pestered" his parents for the high-status symbol. However, instead of a Flexible Flyer his parents had bought him a "Fire Fly." Disappointed and even embarrassed at first, Nelson quickly learned that "I could get down the hill faster than [the others] could." It was not the sled but the rider that made the difference.7 Coasting became popular. A Park City correspondent for the Salt Lake Herald proclaimed, "Coasting is perfect and young and old are taking advantage of it, the air resounding -with the merriment caused by the sport during the day and far into the night." 8 Utahns bought their sleds from 6 7 8

328

Delbert Fowler and Robert Blackburn, interview by Craig Fuller, July 29, 1999, USHS. Autobiography of Carl Erwin "Star" Nelson (Privately published, 1992),Vol. 1: 41—42. Salt Lake Herald, December 26, 1899.


GLIMPSES OF ICE SKATING

local hardware stores or mail order catalogs. The Salt Lake Hardware Store, located at 168 South Main, advertised the Flexible Flyer as "the king of the hill—the eagle on the top and curve on the runner, as well as the speed, identifies the genuine." Prices ranged from $2.50 to $6.00. T h e Freed Furniture and Carpet Company on east Broadway in Salt Lake City sold flexible sleds for as little as $1.29. N o t to be undersold, the Standard Furniture Company on south Main Street sold its "Coaster Steering Sled with a 32 inch gear" for only 98 cents.9 These less-expensive models and the hand-me-downs coasted just fine. The more expensive Flexible Flyer was out of reach for Probst's family and others in Mid-way "I could never afford one. We always bought a cheaper model. They came in about three different sizes. There was kind of a oneman flexible flyer. It was light enough you could pick it up and then run and slam it down and j u m p on it and away you'd go." 10 If the H e b e r Mercantile or other small-town hardware stores did not carry sleds or ice skates, mail-order catalogs listed these outdoor winter recreational items in their winter catalogs. O f course, fun did not require even a look-alike Flexible Flyer. In Emery County, for instance, one former resident remembered that he and his friends found an automobile hood from an old Dodge car. It proved to be an excellent toboggan of sorts. After a long pull up to the top of Blue Hill on the outskirts of Huntington, the teenagers experienced an exhilarating ride. N o doubt anything that could slide might be pressed into service.11 In Ogden, Walter A. Kerr remembered that "coasting on all the streets of O g d e n -was taken for g r a n t e d " d u r i n g the 1880s—particularly those bet-ween Twenty-first and Twenty-seventh streets. However, the unlimited use of Ogden streets by winter fun-seekers was soon halted. Hack men, teamsters, and others apparently complained to the city about the coasters, and in 1894 the Ogden City Council passed an ordinance banning coasting on all of the city's road-ways and side-walks. T h e ordinance stated: "It shall be unlawful for any boy or boys, person or persons, to coast or slide down hill -with any sled, sleigh, toboggan or vehicle, upon any public street, sidewalk or alley of Ogden City." Youthful violators -who -were caught and convicted of coasting illegally were fined as much as twenty dollars. However, so as not to be labeled by the youth of Ogden as the grouch that stole coasting, the city council did allow the mayor to authorize "any street or streets, avenue or avenues" to be set aside "for coasting for the winter season." 12 In Salt Lake City the ordinance prohibiting coasting on city streets took a bit longer to initiate. Each -winter Salt Lake City newspapers regularly reported sledding accidents that resulted in broken bones, body lacerations, 9 Deseret News, various dates, December 1911; advertisements in Salt Lake Herald, December 13 and 20, 1914. 10 Probst interview. 11 Kent Powell, conversation with Craig Fuller. 12 Kerr, "Reminiscences of Ogden"; Revised Ordinances of Ogden City, 1894, 173.

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UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

and in some cases even death. Pedestrians and Skaters at Brighton, 1940. onlookers also suffered in coasting accidents. A M r s . M . A n d e r s o n , w h o lived in t h e Marmalade District west of the State Capitol, was severely injured when speeding coasters knocked her down. 13 Complaining streetcar operators, teamsters, pedestrians, and a growing number of automobile owners forced Salt Lake City officials to pass its ordinance on coasting in 1903. Salt Lake City's ordinance banned the activity from all streets, sidewalks, and alleys within the city. It also authorized the mayor to designate "the use of any street or streets, avenue or avenues, for coasting during the -winter season."14 The designation of coasting lanes did not prevent accidents and fatalities. One of the earliest deaths occurred when a ten-year-old boy crashed into a westbound Fort Douglas Number 3 streetcar while coasting near the corner of K Street and Third Avenue. N o one saw the lad coming, witnesses reported. Indeed, the young boy was "flying" at a high rate of speed and could not guide his coaster around the slow-moving streetcar.15 For the next dozen years Salt Lake City apparently failed in its responsibility to designate specific city streets and avenues as coasting lanes. In January 1915 a rash of coasting accidents caused Salt Lake City police chief Brigham F. Grant to order a temporary suspension of all coasting on city 13

Salt Lake Herald, January 11, 1900. Revised Ordinances of Salt Lake City, 1903, 137. 15 Deseret News, January 5, 1906. The death of Lorin Snowball was particularly tragic to his mother, Mary. Earlier in the year Mary had lost her husband to diphtheria and had also lost a baby from "complications." 14

330


GLIMPSES OF ICE SKATING

streets until the city commission or mayor could once again designate various city streets and avenues as coasting lanes. T h e upsurge in accidents began on N e w Year's Day, 1915, w h e n a boy age six was killed and his older brother seriously injured while they -were riding on a large schooner or toboggan with seven other friends. T h e schooner slammed into Salt Lake City's N u m b e r 6 streetcar at the corner of Tenth East and Second South. That same day, two brothers, ages four and ten, ran into a telephone pole at the b o t t o m of Third Avenue and City Creek Canyon. O n e of the boys received a skull fracture in the collision. 16 Days later, a thirteen-year-old girl was killed and several other teenagers badly injured while coasting on the Second N o r t h Street hill, a favorite coasting hill for many youths living in the Marmalade District. T h e street -was "considered one of the most ideal places in the city for coasting purposes," the newspaper reported, because it had little vehicular traffic.17 Chief Grant -was very serious about his ban. H e requested that residents patrol the neighborhoods and call the police if they saw violations. O n one weekday evening, the police took as many as seven boys w h o defied the order into custody. Pressure from hundreds of unhappy coasters and representatives from the h o m e and school league m o u n t e d , however, and H e b e r M.Wells, former governor and n o w commissioner of the city's department of parks and public property, once again designated various streets as coasting lanes. O n these streets, automobile traffic was restricted bet-ween seven and eleven p.m. 18 Some of the streets designated as coasting lanes were F o u r t h N o r t h from Capitol Hill to Second West; Second N o r t h from Center to Second West; C, D, and K streets from N i n t h Avenue to First Avenue; First Avenue from V to J Streets; Second South from Twelfth East to Eleventh East; and Third South from Thirteenth East to N i n t h East. T h e city's daily newspapers frequently touted outdoor activities during the w i n t e r m o n t h s : " T h e y o u n g folks must have w i n t e r diversions and there is no better place in all the country than Salt Lake and vicinity," 19 -wrote one reporter. But increased automobile traffic in the 1920s threatened the program of designating city streets as coasting lanes. T h e Deseret News took seriously the rumors that coasting would be prohibited. " T h e sport of coasting is too exhilarating and brings enjoyment to so many youngsters—and older folk as well—that its complete prohibition is scarcely to b e considered." 2 0 O n a n o t h e r occasion t h e n e w s p a p e r chastised motorists for demanding their rights to the streets. A n editorial column 16

Salt Lake Herald, January 2, 1915. Snowfall during the months of January and February in downtown Salt Lake City averaged about eleven inches between 1885 and 1953, thus making good snow conditions for coasting. See R . Clayton Brough and Dale J. Stevens, "Climatography of Salt Lake City" (1988), USHS, pamphlet 20374. 17 Salt Lake Herald, January 15, 1915. 18 Salt Lake Herald,January 16, 1915. 19 Deseret News, December 9, 1924. 20 Deseret News, December 20,1920.

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urged motorists in the city "to forgo for a few days some of those rights in the interest of the pleasure and especially the protection of our boys and girls. There is something lacking in the makeup of any man who, merely because the traffic regulations limit coasters to certain streets and allow him to drive at 25 or 30 miles an hour on and across all other streets, -will insist upon his precious personal rights at no matter what peril to others." If a driver was not -willing to slow down and keep full control of his automobile, then "he is not as good a citizen as he should be. Let everybody for a few days give youth a chance to have its merry fling—and we'll all be the happier and better for it."21 Despite the rumors, Salt Lake City continued to designate as many as eighteen city streets at a time as coasting lanes. In the late 1930s popular areas included the Emigration Creek gully at Fifteenth East and Blaine Avenue; Westminster Avenue at T h i r t e e n t h East, R a m o n a Avenue at Eleventh East, Emigration Hollow near Fifteenth East and Ninth South, Stratford Avenue at Highland Drive, Bonneville on the Hill sub-division located along the lower end of Dry Canyon and near the block "U," Ensign Flats, Bonneville Golf Course, and Lindsay Gardens. Among the more popular coasting lanes in the 1920s was Third South, beginning at the top of Fuller's Hill at about Twelfth East and extending -west to Ninth East. The steep grade made for a thrill-packed ride by the time coasters reached the bottom of the hill at Eleventh East. Glenn Fuller, who lived nearby, recalled that he and his pals -would hurry home at the end of school in January and February, grab their sleds, and head to the top of the hill for a "flying" coast down. 22 After school, Fuller was able to complete only one ride before the dinner hour. But on -weekends he and his friends spent hours at this exciting pastime. W h e n the conditions -were just right, they could coast to Seventh East, making for an extended ride. Pulling their sleds back to the top of Third South, coasters participated in a cooperative effort, taking turns at each cross street to warn oncoming motorists to watch for sledders. Elsewhere in the city, warning flags posted at the coasting lane intersections reminded motorists to be cautious. Occasionally, adult service organizations were asked to patrol coasting lanes as -well. G o o d technique and form were important to a good ride. Delbert Fowler and Robert Blackburn described the proper technique: "You would carry your sleigh with hands on both sides of the sled and go running down the hill and slam it in front of you to get a good running start."23 This 21 Deseret News, January 30, 1922. It must be remembered the city's newspapers employed dozens of newspaper boys who were enthusiastic coasters. 22 Fuller's Hill, identified on several maps of the nineteen teens and nineteen twenties, was located roughly between 200 South and 500 South and between 1100 East and 1200 East. During the summer months, Fuller's Hill was a popular picnicking and play area for residents of the northeast quadrant of Salt Lake City. 23 Fowler and Blackburn interview.

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t e c h n i q u e is very similar to the sport of skeleton, in which athletes begin with a r u n ning start and slide headfirst down a track. N o t all city neighborhoods had designated coasting lanes. Fowler remembered that his first coasting thrills -were in his backyard in Salt Lake City. As a ten- or eleven-year-old d u r i n g t h e Great D e p r e s s i o n , he a n d his family lived near Jackson E l e m e n t a r y School. Fowler's father, a plastering contractor, built a small coasting hill in the backyard using scaffolding and planks covered w i t h snow, -which was then sprayed w i t h -water, t u r n i n g the m a n - m a d e , ten-foot-high slide into a short but fast thrill. 24 Sharon Adair at Bryce Canyon, Coasting activities sometimes encouraged 1940. m i s c h i e v o u s p r a n k s . P a r k C i t y officials folio-wed the pattern set earlier in O g d e n and Salt Lake City and passed an ordinance prohibiting coasting on all streets except Woodside Avenue. However, many Park City boys refused to abide by the city's restrictions. To avoid being caught, the boys devised a unique warning system. W h e n lookouts posted at strategic locations sighted a man of the law approaching, they would yell, "chisel!" T h e code word "shovel" indicated that the coasters should -wait a few minutes, and "pick" -was the all-clear signal, meaning that coasting could resume. 25 Occasionally, the tomfoolery grew mean-spirited. O n one occasion in Park City a group of five "ladies" and their male "escort" were coasting at a high rate of speed d o w n a designated coasting lane. T h e sled suddenly "balked with awful suddenness, and for a space of but a few moments there was a moonlight display of shapely limbs, openwork stockings and dainty lingerie that -would shame a fashion place in comparison," a witness reported. "Mild cuss words from fair lips" -were heard as the bobsledding party passed another onlooker. Fortunately, there were n o serious injuries, only the n e e d for some gentle r u b b i n g of bruised legs and arms. After the mishap, the victims discovered that pranksters had spread a broad band of ashes from a -wood stove across the lane. 26 Like coasting, ice skating -was once a widespread pleasure. For example, the Uinta Basin's colorful J o h n Jarvie and his -wife Nellie operated a general store and trading post in Brown's Park from about 1880 to 1909. In that r e m o t e locale the store provided m o r e varied e n t e r t a i n m e n t than the 24

Fowler and Blackburn interview. Philip F. Notarianni, " T h e Mansion, Mining, and Snow" photocopy in possession of author; Park Record, December 20, 1902. 26 Park Record, February 21, 1903. 25

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Bronze sculpture ""N^*- „

Blair

"Flyin"

by

Muhlstein

•-«* average strip mall of today *• ^ d o e s . T h e shopkeeper reported on current events and on the books he -was reading, dabbled in phrenology, recited poetry, sang, and played chess w i t h his customers. In his free time he "often engaged local children in foot races and ice-skating competitions." Mean-while, southeast of the Uinta Basin hamlet of Ashley, Ira Burton and his family excavated a lake in 1900. Fed by Ashley Creek, the lake at Burton Resort provided fishing, boating, and swimming in the summer and ice-skating in the winter.Vernal banker " N . J. Meagher was considered a professional skater and performed on the lake."27 T h e remote Box Elder County bo o m t o wn of Corinne, -which flourished briefly following the completion of the transcontinental railroad in 1869, boasted one of Utah's first baseball teams, a two-story hotel, a slew of saloons, and an ice-skating pond. And w h e n the Bear River froze, local people skated on it. Honeyville, another small Box Elder town, had fewer bars than Corinne but more facilities for -winter activities. In the early 1900s Honeyville residents could skate on a local pond or test their sleighand toboggan-riding skills on "Killer Hill."28 In Davis County, William D. Major took over the old Kimball mill in Bountiful in the 1890s. There he operated "a confectionery inside the mill and maintained the millpond for swimming and ice-skating." 29 The popularity of skating grew to such an extent that early in the century, parks commissioner Heber Wells established several ice skating venues in Salt Lake City. Thousands of youngsters learned to skate on the Liberty Park pond. Dayle White, whose parents had "spent many happy hours skating on the Slough" in Meadow, Millard County, herself skated with family and friends at Liberty Park in the 1940s. After the pond froze hard, "all ages

27 Yvette Derr Ison, "John Jarvie's 'The Sage of the Uintahs, the Genius of Brown's Park,'" Utah History Blazer, July 1995, USHS; Doris Karren Burton, Settlements of Uintah County: Digging Deeper (Vernal, U T : Uintah County Library, 1998), 45. 28 Frederick M. Huchel, A History of Box Elder County (Salt Lake City: Utah State Historical Society and Box Elder County Commission, 1999), 329, 354; Brigham D. Madsen, "Frolics and Free Schools for the Youthful Gentiles of Corinne," Utah Historical Quarterly 48 (1980): 232. 29 Glen M. Leonard, A History of Davis County (Salt Lake City: Utah State Historical Society and Davis County Commission, 1999), 231.

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came to skate.... It was free." Large metal fire barrels around the edge of the pond, full of glowing coals, allowed the skaters to warm their hands and wet mittens. 30 T h e city also created skating rinks at Central Park, the Riverside School grounds, at Seventh South and Seventh West, and at Fourth South between Ninth and Tenth West streets. At these locations, crews piled up dirt to impound water that was turned into the area to form thin ice sheets. Wells appointed a committee of leading citizens—James R . Griffith, Laura L. Tanner, Agnes E. Evans, Charlotte Stewart, and J o h n Malick—"to care for and supervise...coasting and skating" in the city.31 Skaters of the day could also visit private rinks. Cloyd F. Woolley recalled that near the turn of the century the Heath brothers ran an ice-skating rink in Salt Lake City "midway between 9th and 10th South...on the east side of State [Street]... .We used to sneak in. There were guards to prevent this but they were hardly an obstacle."32 Before Morgan County built a skating rink in Morgan, Jim Compton "prepared an ice sheet on the vacant lot at the corner of 100 South and 200 East Street....at no charge, but simply for the enjoyment of the youth of the county." Provo City took a similar approach, using depression-era recreation programs offered by the federal government to introduce iceskating at the North Park ball diamond. W h e n attempts to flood that site proved unsatisfactory, recreation leaders tried spraying it with water at night and "shading the rink with burlap curtains during the day." As many as 800 people skated there in a single evening. The ball field lights illuminated the ice. Skaters glided to "music...played over a loudspeaker...[and] discarded Christmas trees set around the borders added greatly to the charm of the rink." The Hi Low Lake area near Clover Beds in Beaver County was also the scene of winter recreational activity during the depression. In March 1938 a ski run more than a mile long opened, and "an ice-skating pond and hills for tobogganing and sledding were also developed."33 George R e m u n d of Midway built a rink for the youth of the town on the town square. That same spirit was renewed in recent years when a few of Midway's citizens who had skated on Remund's community ice rink came together to build a rink where children and adults of Midway and Heber Valley could skate safely. Local suppliers provided free or at-cost materials; and citizens bought dozens of ice skates and refurbished an old Zamboni to maintain the surface of the ice.34

30

Dayle and Clyde L.White to Miriam Murphy, March 20, 2001. Salt Lake Herald, January 16, 1915. 32 Olive W Burt, ed., "Bicycle Racing and the Salt Palace: Two Letters," Utah Historical Quarterly 50 (1982): 162. 33 Linda H. Smith, A History of Morgan County (Salt Lake City: Utah State Historical Society and Morgan County Commission, 1999), 390; "Public Recreation in Provo," Utah History Blazer, August 1996; Martha Sonntag Bradley, A History of Beaver County (Salt Lake City: Utah State Historical Society and Beaver County Commission, 1999), 261—62. 34 Probst interview. 31

335


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY Sharon Adair on the Little Draper Canal in Draper, Christmas 1947.

B u t these "official" ice sheets only symbolize the long-standing, widespread popularity of skating. Long before (and after) c o m m u nities organized the sport, skaters -were adept at finding their own venues. R u t h Leigh Cox, -who grew up in the small town of Lund in Iron County, r e m e m b e r e d "ice-skating in the w i n t e r on frozen puddles on Main Street." 3 5 A c c o r d i n g t o William W Terry, two large ponds in O g d e n furnished excellent skating w h e n they froze in w i n t e r — C a r d o n Pond on the north side of O g d e n River near Brinker Avenue and the p o n d behind the M a c k gristmill at 1440 Washington. While Terry and his friends waited for thick ice to form, checking the ponds every day, they sharpened the blades on their skates. Clamps held the boys' skates to the soles and heels of their shoes, while the girls' model was clamped in front and strapped around the ankle. 36 As a youngster living in Laketown, R i c h County, Clayton R o b i n s o n received his first pair of clamp-on skates, a gift that eclipsed the usual orange or little toy in his stocking. Wearing hard leather shoes, "I could screw the toe part on with a wrench and fasten the back part on with a strap around the ankle." Robinson skated and played ice hockey on several ponds west of Laketown. 37 While going to and from school he would also skate on the thin sheets of ice caused by the operations of the gristmill south of town. During the winter months the town ditches were generally frozen, and the mill water running in the ditches would spill onto the town's streets,

35 Janet Burton Seegmiller, A History of Iron County (Salt Lake City: Utah State Historical Society and Iron County Commission, 1998), 177. 36 William W.Terry, Weber County Is Worth Knowing (Ogden, U T : self-published, 1989?), 300; Richard C. Roberts and Richard W Sadler, A History of Weber County (Salt Lake City: Utah State Historical Society and Weber County Commission, 1997), 187. 37 Elgie and Clayton Robinson interview by Craig Fuller, August 13, 2001.

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forming thin patches of ice. These little patches made for a lot of fun.38 Hooper businessman Greg W Haws wrote a vivid account of the fun he and his cousins had as teenagers: We all had our own ice skates and the frozen ponds near the [Weber] river became o u r skating spots. We often w o u l d b u r n a tire for heat. T h o s e tires w o u l d b u r n hot forever, and they stunk. Often we took hot chocolate and we had real parties. I remember a Sunday school party Johnny Bird and Lu Jean Jensen w h e r e w e ice skated on the ''south r u n " of the at Decker Lake> New year's Day, Weber River. I felt like Hans Christian Andersen or someone from Norway as I skated along the river. 1947. The couple later married. We cousins had our special pond called "Dead Goose." We named it because one year we found a frozen dead goose in the middle of the ice. [The pond] also had a barbed -wire fence going right through the middle of it. We would j u m p the fence in our skates. It was thrilling, but I remember falling more than once. My Dad even made a skating rink next to our house on our south lawn. It was fun to just walk out of the door and skate. We would often shovel the snow off and make paths that soon became tracks for competitive skating and races. Later, as older cousins became drivers, we would ride to Dead Goose Often cars got stuck in the snow and mud, as there was not a road. Today there are homes very near Dead Goose, which was in the pasturelands near the river [and] 6100 South. 39

In the rural areas of the Salt Lake Valley, skaters glided on small ponds and irrigation canals. Two favorite canals were the South Jordan and the Utah and Salt Lake canals, which also offered excellent swimming in the summer. 40 Ed Cooper remembered that many teenagers -were still skating on the several irrigation canals running through the east side of the valley in the 1940s and early 1950s.They "would skate for miles in the canal[s]."A small pond located near the corner of State Street and 6400 South was another favorite location for Cooper and other skaters. A fire there provided a place for skaters to warm up and roast wieners and marshmallows. 41 Dorothy L. Peterson lived close to Salt Lake City's Memory Grove in the early 1930s. During the summer she and her friends played ball, hide-andseek, and run-my-sheepie-run there. W h e n -winter came, "you'd find us all up in M e m o r y Grove ice-skating on the pond." City firemen stationed nearby scraped the snow from the ice. Crack-the-whip -was a favorite 38

Robinson interview. G r e g W Haws, "Hooper, Utah, and its Sons of Ditches," MS, photocopy in author's possession. 40 Bernarr S. Furse, ed., A History of West Jordan (City ofWest Jordan, 1995), 96. 41 Ed Cooper to Craig Fuller, November 15,

39

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game, and once, Dorothy wrote, "I -wanted to be the last one in the line. O n the first crack I went flying through the air and landed face down Everyone came over to see how I was, and -with that many kids in one spot the ice began to crack." N o one came to serious harm, fortunately, but Dorothy sported a black eye for a -week. She did not mind too much because skating with her friends "was a very choice experience." 42 In the winter of 1946—47 Jean Decker and her friends -would "drive out to Decker Lake [in West Valley]... to ice skate The first ones there would build a fire and keep it burning with old tires The ice was not very smooth but we didn't care. There were no lights, but the moonlight on the ice and snow was adequate when it got late. We skated for fun, not competition." 43 Wanda Dahle, who "just loved ice-skating," skated in the late 1930s on ponds that are now part of the Old Farm condominium complex south of 3900 South in Salt Lake City. Boys would scrape snow from the ice in order to skate or play hockey, and skaters' cars lined Fifth and Seventh East streets. Nearby Peale's Pond also attracted hundreds of skaters, w h o often built fires at the pond's edge. W h e n twenty or more people lined up to play crack-the-whip, Dahle said, "you could see the ice move."44 Kay Probst recalled skating on an ice-pond located just outside Mid-way near the Provo River. Ice-ponds presented unusual hazards for ice skaters. During the course of the winter, men -would harvest ice in large sections and store it in icehouses for use during the summer months. Several times on this Midway ice pond, Probst skated into open water or onto very thin ice. "Man, you'd skate into one of them [open areas free of ice] and you'd be coming at such a speed you'd go clear across and hit ... just above your knees when you hit the other side. O h man, it was a wonder we didn't get broken legs." Asked if he received any injuries while skating on the pond, Probst recalled, "I never did, and I don't know of anybody that did. But I sure got wet a lot of times falling through, cause you couldn't tell, you know, where they had harvested ice the day before. It was just a thin scum on top."45 For Christmas 1947, Sharon Adair Andrus received a gift of white figure skates—a fulfillment of a dream. "Sonja Henie was our idol," she wrote. "My brother named his first daughter Sonja after her." Draper Canal, a few blocks from the Adair home, provided a place to swim in summer and a perfect place to ice skate in winter. The children could skate from their aunt and uncle's property in east Draper "to Sharp's Pond in northeast Draper and even...across town as far as Hansen's pond to the north-west. Of course it meant going through a few barbed wire fences, but that was no 2

Dorothy L. Peterson to Miriam Murphy, March 19,2001. 'Jean Bird to Miriam Murphy, June 23, 2001. * Wanda Dahle to Miriam Murphy, telephone interview, March 19, 2001. ' Kay Probst interview.

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problem for the young and able." O n Saturday afternoons young people with skates frequently met at Sharp's Pond, "built a fire and skated into the early evening."46 Sharon's husband, Calvin Andrus, who also grew up in Draper, remembered when, in the winter of 1945—46, he received hockey skates and left sleigh riding to the "little kids." O n winter weekends he joined friends at the big canal to skate. At first his ankles hurt, "but with a little time and practice [he] could do fancy turns and skate backwards...to impress the girls...[in] their fancy white figure skates " Inevitably, he wrote, "the rough and tumble school-lawn football games" of fall evolved into hockey games on Hansen's pond. Challenged by "boys a year or two older" to defend their "manly status," Andrus and his friends took to the ice. "Not so sophisticated as to have real hockey sticks," the teams used brooms. "Somehow the brooms got replaced with tree branches, and injuries soon discouraged participation." Although his cousins introduced him to the excitement of tobogganing, Andrus continued to prefer ice-skating.47 In 1959 Sharon and Calvin Andrus moved to Brigham City, where they continued to enjoy ice-skating with their children: "The pond at Rees Pioneer Park froze over and was used for many years to ice-skate on. The ice-skating was especially good the week after Christmas when school was out and everyone could skate every day. People took turns scraping the snow off the pond. Sometimes the January thaw ruined the ice and ended the skating for another year."48 John R.Ward, who grew up in Willard, liked to sled and ski—pulled by a horse or wagon—on the town streets. But ice-skating at night on the lake below Willard was the most fun. The boys would place four old tires on the ice to mark the goals, set them on fire, "and proceed to play the game we called 'pomp' or tag. The object of the game was to skate from one set of goals through the other set about 70 yards away without being touched by those who had been tagged early and were now 'it'. Some nights we would not get home until midnight, when temperatures could go as low as zero."49 Youngsters frequently invented new, creative ways to have fun in the winter. "Hitching" became a popular but rather dangerous winter activity in the 1940s and 1950s.50 Wearing slick leather-soled shoes, the hitcher or "hooky bobber" would grab the back bumper of a passing car, squat down, and 46

Sharon Adair Andrus, "Ice Skates for Christmas," typescript in author's possession. Calvin Andrus, "Wintertime Sports," typescript in author's possession. 48 Andrus, "Ice Skates for Christmas." 49 John R.Ward, Fresno, California, to author,April 16, 2001. 50 Fowler and Blackhurst interview. This activity seems to be universal. In Alberta, Canada, it is called "bumpering." Correspondence, Suzanne Montgomery to Craig Fuller, November 5, 1999. In Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and Montpelier, Idaho, it is called "hooky bobbing"; Kevin Jones to Craig Fuller, December 3, 1999, and communications with Craig Fuller from Ross Peterson. In Utah County it is called "bizzing" or "bum riding." See Frederick Gomes Cassidy, ed., Dictionary of American Regional English (Cambridge, MA: Belnap Press of Harvard University Press, 1985), 1: 252. 47

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slide along the snow-packed roadway. O f course, this activity had to occur before the streets had b e e n plowed and sanded by city street crews. Generally, hitching -was done unbeknownst to the driver of the automobile. Sherm Fuller, brother of the co-author, recalled that some of his teenage friends would venture to Thirteenth East near Westminster College, away from watchful eyes of parents and neighbors, to do their hitching. To get a passing car to slow down, another friend would -walk in front of the approaching car, causing it to slow down long enough for two or three others to grab the bumper and "hitch" an exciting ride. T h e best place to hold on was the left rear fender. From here the hitcher had the best possible view of the street ahead and could let go before the car passed over a dry manhole cover. Automobiles made before the 1960s -were not required to have outside mirrors; thus, drivers might not see the hitchers. Further, car bumpers then -were extended from the body of the automobile, making it rather easy to grab on for a fast ride. W h e n World War II began, -winter sports changed. Young m e n and w o m e n went off to war or took jobs that supported the war effort. Younger boys and girls continued to skate on canals and ponds, but gradually the canals and ponds became fenced off or filled in as open spaces gave way to suburbs after the -war. N e w generations of skaters enjoyed their sport at public and private ice rinks, where they were not warmed by tire fires or challenged by barbed wire fences. Ice-skating, like many childhood sports, became more organized and more competitive. At the same time, the streets of Salt Lake City, Ogden, Provo, Logan, and elsewhere became increasingly clogged -with vehicular traffic. Improved snow removal and the use of salt and sand on city streets made coasting on the streets impractical. A few new coasting hills were established in the valley, among them a short sledding hill at Sugarhouse Park after the state prison was relocated to Point of the Mountain in the 1950s. But the develo p m e n t of ski areas, cross country skis, and other outdoor and indoor amusements drew many people away from unorganized sports like coasting and ice skating. Thus, the face of winter sports has changed. It is a rare child w h o has access to a slope or pond for impromptu fun. Utahns continue to enjoy skiing, skating, and other sports, but often they turn to commercial venues: manicured ski runs, perfect ice surfaces in warm buildings, and a multi-million-dollar bobsled run. T h e wooden Flexible Flyer with its steel runners may have been replaced with sleds and bobsleds made of lightweight c o m posite materials, but having fun remains a constant.

340


T h e Forest Service Takes to the Slopes T h e Birth o f Utah's Ski Industry and the R o l e o f the Forest Service By JOSEPH ARAVE

W

hen the Organic Act of 1905 created the U.S. Forest Service, no one could have foreseen the scope of that agency's involvement in Utah's vast array of winter recreation. The charge to the Forest Service upon its creation was to manage our national forest reserves for the greatest good for the greatest number of people. To the managers, the mission of the agency was toward the "economic use of the forest resources guided by principals of scientific forest management" 1 That belief, strongly held by the agency's first chief, Gifford Pinchot, influenced decision-making in the agency for decades. A philosophy of sustained yield and conservation were important to a growing nation that had seen abuse of forest resources during the latter part of the nineteenth century.2 Even though many people enjoyed hiking, hunting, camping, and fishing on national forest lands, Snowbasin chairlift, March 1946. Dr. Joseph Arave is a faculty member in the Department of Parks, Recreation and Tourism, College of Health, University of Utah. 1 2

J. Douglas Wellman, Wildland Recreation Policy (New York: John Wiley & Sons, 1987), 81. Ibid., 68.

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to most foresters, managing for the greatest good meant timber, grazing, and watershed management. Forest supervisors and rangers saw their jobs as the management of the forests in a way that would promote economic activity for the benefit of local and national economies. It -would be some years before recreation was seen as part of that economic picture. Within the next two decades, however, provisions for recreational uses gradually began to make their way into Forest Service policy 3 Following World War I, many veterans possessed automobiles and knew all about outdoor life. With surplus equipment and the means to travel available to the public, the numbers of people who used national forest lands as a recreational resource soared. The Forest Service found itself in the business of recreation. For instance,0 in an effort to reduce the danger of fire and the spread of garbage, the agency began to develop campgrounds in 1922. 4 In January 1915 a handful of Norwegian immigrants officially introduced the sport of ski jumping into Utah. By the 1920s, the sport was rapidly gaining in popularity as a spectator sport. 5 During the decades of the 1920s and '30s, crowds sometimes numbering in the thousands would thrill to the daring of professional ski jumpers. Many of the Scandinavian jumpers were part of professional teams that toured the country providing exhibitions and competing in tournaments. For most of the general public, professional jumping embodied all they knew of skiing.6 At the same time, however, small groups of rugged individuals (such as members of the Wasatch Mountain Club) began to experience firsthand the exhilaration of nature's pristine winter environment. These early winter recreationists ventured into the canyons of the Wasatch Mountains and there discovered the -wonders of the high mountains in -winter. As they increasingly enjoyed the thrills of downhill skiing, these pioneers -worked on making turns with their skis and gradually learned to control them for enjoyment and safety.7 T h e new sport of alpine skiing naturally took participants into the mountainous regions of the state. The majority of beautiful alpine terrain that beckoned the spirits of adventurous skiers -was public land under the jurisdiction of the United States Department of Agriculture Forest Service. As the new activity became popular, people began to look for -ways to get skiers up the mountain so they could enjoy more time in exhilarating glides down the hills. By the late 1930s, industrious individuals began to devise various means of transporting skiers up the mountain. 8 Although some in the Forest Service saw the new popularity of skiing as 3

Douglas Knudson, Outdoor Recreation (revised ed., New York: Macmillan Publishing, 1984), 270. Ibid., 272. 3 Alan Engen, For the Love of Skiing: A Visual History (Layton, UT: Gibbs Smith, 1998), 32. 6 Ibid., 28. 7 Interview with Ralph Johnston, Ogden, Utah, July 29,1991. 8 Interview with Jack Green, Salt Lake City, Utah, July 1989; interview with K Smith, Salt Lake City, Utah, June 1989. 4

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an opportunity to promote the use of national forests for recreational purposes and thus benefit the community, others resisted. The U.S. Forest Service was a relatively young agency, and its p r i m a r y mission from t h e o u t s e t h a d b e e n to m a n a g e for m u l t i p l e use relating to timber, grazing, and -watersheds. While exact motives are unclear, it can only be assumed that the Forest Service was unaccust o m e d to n e w activities such as s k i i n g . In s o m e -ways, t h e Forest Service became involved in skiing by default, since Felix C. Koziol. the mountainous areas upon which the public -wanted to ski were national forest lands.9 O n the o t h e r h a n d , s o m e officials, in particular Wasatch Forest Supervisor Felix C. Koziol, personally enjoyed the activity. Koziol became a great promoter and supporter of skiing. Enthusiastic about the opportunities for economic benefit to the community, he began to look for sites that could be developed as ski areas. The Forest Service had previously entered into public/private partnerships -with other concessionaires. The ski industry was no different. T h e partnership in those days was simple. T h e Forest Service permitted the use of the public lands and private interests provided the capital necessary to construct facilities. Although enterprising individuals, seeing the opportunity to make an enjoyable livelihood, had pushed for such a partnership, the role of dynamic and influential individuals in the Forest Service like F. C. Koziol appears to have been a significant contributor. 10 O n the Wasatch Forest, Koziol sought to work cooperatively with private interests who desired to develop areas for alpine skiing. To facilitate this effort, he looked for someone with unique expertise to advise his agency. A very clear choice for Koziol was world-renowned skier Alf Engen. Engen had already made his mark as a competitor in the world of ski-jumping, and later he became known as the "father of powder skiing technique." 11 Koziol hired him to scout out potential public lands sites that 9 10 11

Montgomery M.Atwater, The Avalanche Hunters (Philadelphia: Macrae Smith Company, 1968), 6. Ibid. Engen, For the Love of Skiing, vii.

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could be developed for ski areas. In the 1940—41 edition of the American Ski Annual, Koziol reflected on the results of the decision to hire Engen. Five years ago the Forest Service, recognizing the need for more knowledge, better planning, and expert opinion, employed well-known Alf Engen to help. Alf prospected, investigated, and studied proposed winter developments on scores of suggested places on the Intermountain National Forests. H e recommended and planned several of the best, and so from a small beginning, a number of centralized winter sports areas are now being developed by the Forest Service in cooperation with towns, ski clubs, and private individuals. 12

The first ski area to be developed in cooperation with the Forest Service was Alta. During the latter half of the nineteenth century, Alta, Utah, had been a raucous mining town. In the 1930s, however, little more than a ghost town remained. The lower slopes of the surrounding mountains had been stripped of their timber for use in mining and construction of a town that had once claimed as many as 5,000 residents.13 In the mid-1930s, Alf Engen made Alta his first area of investigation. Impressed with -what he saw, he recommended the area for ski development. Encouragement also came from George Watson, self-appointed mayor of the abandoned mining town. Watson saw skiing as the key to the rebirth of the town. The land around Alta was laced with mining claims, most of -which -were in the possession of Mayor Watson. Anxious to cooperate and move the project forward, he deeded 700 acres of surface rights to the federal government on May 6, 1937. James E. Gurr, supervisor of the Wasatch National Forest at the time, acted on behalf of the government in the transaction. Not long afterward, the Forest Service also received an additional 900 acres from William O ' C o n n o r of the American Smelting and Refining company; O ' C o n n o r also happened to be a skier.14 With the transfer of land, progress toward Utah's first lift-served ski area was u n d e r w a y . T h e Forest S e r v i c e , t a k i n g a d v a n t a g e of C i v i l i a n Conservation Corps (CCC) and Works Projects Administration (WPA) labor, built hard-surface roads into the /Alta area, which would soon serve thousands of winter recreationists. Local businessmen, led by Joseph Quinney, formed the Alta Winter Sports Association to raise capital for lift construction and other improvements. Within two years of the transfer of deed, the Wasatch National Forest issued the association a permit to operate the Collins single-chair lift.15 In Logan, Utah, the Mt. Logan Ski Club and Logan City began to develop skiing at Beaver Mountain. Harold Seeholzer, a member of the ski club, purchased the rope tow from Logan City and, -with the help of his family, developed Beaver M o u n t a i n Ski Area. Seeholzer had a great 12

American Ski Annual 1940-41, 198. Alexis Kelner, Skiing in Utah: A History (Salt Lake City: 1980), 114. 14 A History of the Wasatch-Cache National Forest, 1903—1980 (Washington, D C : U.S. Department of Agriculture), 269. 15 Ibid. 13

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relationship with the forest supervisors and Alf Engen standing on the snow many of the men who served over the years p\0w when he was a foreman with as district rangers on the Cache National the Civilian Conservation Corps. Forest. He remembered that they were particularly influential and helpful during the early years in getting roads constructed and in laying out and constructing ski runs. In the early 1930s Wheeler Basin east of Mt. Ogden was under private ownership.The Ostler Land and Livestock Company used the area for summer cattle range. The basin became seriously denuded due to overgrazing, which in turn threatened the Ogden River watershed. During periods of heavy runoff, silt filled Wheeler Creek and the Ogden River, threatening the Ogden City water supply. In 1938 Ogden City sought a remedy to the problem via a lawsuit that, if successful, would condemn the area and put it under the jurisdiction of the federal government and the U.S. Forest Service. The suit succeeded, and the Forest Service immediately took steps to reclaim the area for watershed protection. 16 That same year Wasatch Forest Supervisor Felix Koziol, Alf Engen, and other Forest Service officials skied into the Wheeler Basin area to assess its potential as a winter recreation site. The group came to a favorable consensus, and during the summer and fall of 1940 the Forest Service funded the 16

Engen, For the Love of Skiing, 104.

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construction of a road into the area, built by the Civilian Conservation Corps under the direction of C C C supervisor Alf Engen. On-the-ground involvement of the Forest Service, however, -was not limited to -watershed management and road building. T h e folio-wing summer C C C workers, under the supervision of the Forest Service, cut ski runs for the new area, -which was operated as a cooperative venture between the Forest Service and Ogden. 17 Felix Koziol clearly believed that Snowbasin, w h i c h lay within the Wheeler Basin drainage, had the potential to become a major winter recreation destination. In the 1941—42 issue of the Western Ski Annual, he enthusiastically praised the positive attributes of the area. Snowbasin offers one of the few places where two, three, and four-way tournaments can be held within the compact limits of the same ski area.... Snowbasin has a combination of many natural advantages that is hard to find. There is plenty of snow [and] the altitude is not too high to cause trouble from excessive storms. 18

According to snow ranger and avalanche researcher Monty Atwater, Felix Koziol -was somewhat unique in the Forest Service for his time. Referring to Koziol and his enthusiastic support of Forest Service skiing programs, Atwater said that "he -was a skiing forester, a rare thing in those days"; evidently, even rarer still -was the fact that he -was a skiing supervisor!19 The Brighton area at the top of Big Cottonwood had been a popular summer recreational destination for decades. During the nineteen-teens and twenties, members of the Wasatch Mountain Club and others began to make weekend ski excursions into the Brighton basin. Embarking from Park City, the hardy -winter recreationists would ski up Thaynes Canyon, over Scott's Pass, and down into Brighton. T h e y would typically stay overnight at Alfred Launer's cabin, -which he converted into a lodge for summer and winter recreationists. The skiers would enjoy a day of skiing, which at that time usually meant no more than a handful of short runs, and then return via the same route on Sunday 20 The area soon gained a reputation for its winter recreational offerings. F. C. Koziol gladly promoted the ski possibilities in the Brighton area. In the late 1930s he began -working with K Smith and a group of businessmen who had already begun operating a rope tow. Smith had skied into the Brighton area with friends in the Wasatch Mountain Club and loved the area.21 In 1937 the county began plowing the road up Big Cotton-wood Canyon as far as the Brighton Store. That same year, the Alpine Ski Club built a rope tow. It was poorly designed and didn't -work well. However, Koziol -was ebullient about the winter sports activities taking place in Brighton. 17

Interview with Dean Roberts, Solitude, Utah, October 25, 1989. Engen, For the Love of Skiing, 104. 19 Atwater, The Avalanche Hunters, 3. 20 Interview with Paul and Betty Dinwoodie, Salt Lake City, Utah, July 1989. 21 Smith interview. K Smith was born Jesse Kimball Smith but was known by no other name than "K" his entire life. 18

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"The National Forests in a number of locations are fast becoming winter sports centers," he wrote in a Salt Lake Tribune article titled "Forest Service Takes Lead in R e g i o n a l W i n t e r Sports." " T h e most used and highly developed is Big Cottonwood Canyon in the Wasatch National Forest. The location is superb. Two and a half miles of ski trails have been provided to a u g m e n t natural openings in the forest and c o n n e c t i n g w i t h other established trails." He went on to say that "the area under development by the Forest Service in Big Cottonwood Canyon is an indicator of what is needed and what can be done."22 Still, at the time, there were no reliable mechanical means of transporting skiers up the hill. In 1938 Smith teamed up with Bill Eccles and others to build a 1,400foot T-bar lift that worked very well. Additionally, he built an ice rink. The area did quite well for a couple of years. W h e n World War II began, K Smith enlisted, and in 1943 he decided to sell his tow to Zane Doyle, a move that he later considered to be among the greatest mistakes of his life. Doyle, who worked in the meat-cutting business and desperately wanted out, had shown interest in the area for some time but considered the initial asking price to be out of the question. The price came down. With financial help from his family, Doyle was able to purchase the lift. H e recalled that most people thought he was crazy to pay the kind of money he did for something that was on land that he didn't own. But Doyle "hated the meat-cutting business and he -wanted to see if he could make a go of it."23 According to Doyle, EC. Koziol and District Ranger W E.Tangren were fair and helpful. Even though there were disagreements, he had a good relationship with the Forest Service and -was able to work out differences. According to Ray Linquist, snow ranger on the Wasatch from 1952 to 1986, Doyle and Koziol had a good personal relationship, and whenever the forest supervisor came to visit, Doyle made sure that he had some of his friend's favorite beverage in the warming hut to facilitate discussion. Through hard work combined with assistance and cooperation from Felix Koziol and others in the Forest Service, Doyle developed Brighton into a ski area that became a local treasure.24 In 1938 the Forest Service distributed a pamphlet that summarized the many winter recreation opportunities of the Intermountain region. T h e pamphlet provided the public information about dozens of recreational sites on the region's twenty-four different forests, and it gave information on such things as the closest ranger station, ski runs, capacity of parking areas, the availability of a ski lift or ski instruction, the closest town, shelter or lodging, and the difficulty of the terrain. T h e introduction to the pamphlet announced that Thousands of snow-covered hills and slopes in the Intermountain R e g i o n beckon the 22

Salt Lake Tribune, February 7,1937. Interview with Zane Doyle, Salt Lake City, Utah, July 11, 1989. 24 Ibid. 23

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winter sports enthusiasts.... But where are the best ski and toboggan hills within the Intermountain R e g i o n ? H o w can we get to these choice spots? Well, that is the purpose of this pamphlet—to answer these questions and add other information that you want to know. Let us help you plan your winter trip. 25

Although skiing was many years away from being considered an industry, the Forest Service seemed to take pride in the wide array of winter recreation resources on public forest lands. In the 1940—41 American Ski Annual, published by the National Ski Association, Felix Koziol proudly reviewed the accomplishments of the newly formed Intermountain Division of the National Ski Association. Prior to that year, Utah, Idaho, and part of Wyoming had been included in the Colorado-based Rocky Mountain Division. The winter of 1939—40 saw over a third of a million visitors to Intermountain winter play-fields on National Forests. Alta, of the Wasatch Forest near Salt Lake City, alone drew 92,000. It is a big j o b that the Forest Service has ahead of it to provide for winter sports lovers the essentials of shelter, sanitation, trails, and supervision. With the help of the C C C and the W P A , eight areas in Idaho, four in Nevada, three in western Wyoming, and ten in Utah now offer some facilities to visitors. Ski lifts and tows are rapidly being added, but entirely by private capital.26

The following passage, almost poetic in tone, indicates Koziol's love for the sport of skiing and his commitment to the Forest Service's role in its success. And so a new spirit has come to prevail on the Intermountain country when the days become short and the sun is low on the southern horizon.... For as November and December arrive, with them comes a new wealth to the land, a richness in snow cold dry powder snow, covering deeply a thousand hills and therein the National Forests play a new part.27

Apparently alpine skiing -was to be a permanent part of the Forest Service -winter sports agenda. Because the Forest Service enthusiastically supported and promoted alpine skiing, by default it became obligated to protect recreationists from avalanche danger insofar as possible. Avalanches have existed since snow and mountains have existed, and the danger of avalanche has threatened humans whenever they have lived close to snow and mountains. In the villages of the European Alps those conditions have long been satisfied, and the results from time to time have been disastrous.28 Those conditions were also present -when the town of Alta was a rugged silver mining town in the late nineteenth century, and on several occasions the town and its residents experienced the destructive power that avalanches can inflict. W h e n a variety of factors led to the end of mining in the Alta area, the avalanche 25 Winter Sports in the National Forests of the Intermountain Region, USDA Forest Service pamphlet, 1938. Copy available at the Utah State Historical Society. 26 American Ski Annual, 1940-41,198. 27 Ibid., 199. 2S Atwater, The Avalanche Hunters, xiii.

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threat to humans, w h o were no longer in proximity to the danger, was drastically reduced. However, the sudden growth and popularity of alpine skiing again placed people close to the danger.29 Although during the 1970s and '80s ski areas and the state highway department gradually assumed the work of avalanche control, w h e n the Forest Service first began to promote winter recreation there were no ski areas and no lifts. The responsibility for snow safety therefore fell to the Forest Service. During the summers, the Forest Service had assumed a primary role in protecting the public from such large-scale disasters as fire and floods on Forest Service lands. Therefore, the Forest Service, as administrator of the land, felt obligated to protect the skiing public from winter's hazard—avalanche. 30 Also, by the time the ski areas began to be formed, the Forest Service had developed expertise in snow safety and avalanche w o r k that the fledgling ski areas simply did not have. Early in the 1930s District Ranger W E . Tangren began observing avalanches and when they occurred. These observations began a database of information to which others would add during ensuing years. District rangers and snow rangers drew from this information and their personal experiences in order to make critical decisions regarding the safety of the public. 31 N o t long after Alta opened for business in 1939, the Forest Service hired Alf Engen's brother Sverre as its first snow ranger. Sverre assumed the task of learning as much as he could about avalanches and when they were likely to occur. H e made observations concerning the weather, dug snow pits, and gathered as much information about avalanches and the conditions that created them as the era's instrumentation and knowledge would allow.32 Shortly after World War II, Forest Supervisor Koziol hired M o n t y Atwater, a veteran of the Tenth M o u n t a i n Division, to replace Sverre Engen, w h o had been named the director of the Alta ski school. Atwater had learned of the position from Sverre, w h o was a friend of his. At the time, Koziol maintained that Europeans simply accepted a certain number of deaths each year from avalanche as inevitable. Atwater said that Koziol made it plain to him that Koziol, "as the Forest Service's custodian and sponsor of the first truly alpine ski area in the United States, was not prepared to accept any European-style casualty list" and that Atwater had been hired to prevent such a thing. 33 Monty Atwater had learned something about artillery and snow from his experiences as a Tenth Mountain trooper in Europe. As snow ranger he assigned priorities to his responsibilities: first, immediate recognition of

29

Ibid., xv. Interview with John Hoagland, Salt Lake City, U t a h j u n e 23, 1998. 31 Atwater, The Avalanche Hunters, 6. 32 Engen, For the Love of Skiing, 84. 33 Atwater, The Avalanche Hunters, 6. 30

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hazard; second, reduction of hazard; third, Monty Atwater, Capt. Elkins (Utah basic research if he had any time left.34 After National Guard), and Felix Koziol. only a few months, he received a full initiation into avalanche rescue. O n the afternoon of December 27, shortly before Alta's lift was to shut down for the day, M o n t y received word of an avalanche accident. Three high school boys w h o had been camping in an old mine shack since Christmas Day had come down the mountain to the Snowpine shelter at the base of Alta for water. There had been a heavy, wind-driven snowstorm that day. T h e boys had been warned not to return to the cabin. However, they chose to ignore the warning and on the way back, one of the boys was buried in a slide. O n e stayed to search a n d t h e t h i r d w e n t for h e l p . F o r t u n a t e l y , rescuers found the buried teenager alive and successfully evacuated him to safety. T h e boy had been lucky 35 Following that experience, Atwater reflected on four factors that, despite the confusion, had contributed to the success of that rescue. O n e : the questioning of the survivors in order to gain information on the victim's location. Two: good leadership. As luck would have it, Alf and Sverre Engen, along with another experienced patrolman, Ted de Boer, were first on the scene and calmly headed up the rescue effort. All -were experienced 34

Montgomery Atwater, Avalanche Handbook (Washington, D . C : U.S. Department of Agriculture, 1952), 12. 35 Atwater, Avalanche Hunters, 14.

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in the -ways of the mountains. Three: speed in making the search. Four: knowledge of the point -where the victim was last seen. T h e rescuers found the boy somewhere on the fall line below that point. 36 Atwater also conducted research. H e referred to his efforts as only the first stage of avalanche research, but his observations did result in information that proved useful. Especially at first, his research was pragmatic, attempting to provide "the administrator in the field with reliable methods of estimating avalanche hazard. There is no thought in this objective of predicting occurrence exactly, either in time or location." 37 Atwater focused his efforts primarily on preventing accidents. Through his data gathering and personal experiences in directing what became the first avalanche research and observation center in the western hemisphere, he advanced the science of snow safety and added to the database of information, helping snow rangers protect the public from the potential devastation of avalanches. The "ten contributory factors" 38 he identified were probably his greatest contribution to avalanche forecasting. These factors were: (1) old snow depth, (2) old snow stability, (3) old snow surface, (4) new snow amount, (5) new snow type, (6) new snow density, (7) snowfall intensity, (8) wind speed and direction, (9) temperature, and (10) settlement. 39 In 1948 he published the first of " T h e Alta Avalanche Studies." It was widely distributed as the only comprehensive work of its kind in the country T h e studies conducted at Alta proved to be applicable wherever snow fell on mountains. The most powerful tool that Atwater had at his disposal was the authority to close an area. Of course this authority, when exercised, was not always popular. Ski area operators wanted to make money, skiers wanted to ski, and both groups often resented the Forest Service because of what they sometimes viewed as arbitrary authority. But because the Forest Service had jurisdiction, it had assumed the awesome responsibility of protecting the public from avalanche danger, and the snow rangers took the responsibility seriously 40 M o n t y Atwater w o r k e d hard and accomplished m u c h , but he was primarily a writer and a ski mountaineer; by his own admission he was no t r u e s c i e n t i s t . H o w e v e r , a s c i e n t i s t j o i n e d h i m in 1 9 5 2 w h e n E d LaChappelle came on the team at the Alta Research Center. LaChappelle -was a glaciologist and physicist by training and education. H e soon proved to be a capable researcher and administrator. In The Avalanche Hunters Monty Atwater maintains that "the man that should have been there in the first place came to Alta in 1952—53. To describe Ed LaChapelle is to write

1

Ibid. Atwater, Avalanche Handbook, 46. ; Ibid., 47. 1 Ibid. 1 Atwater, The Avalanche Hunters, 6.

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t h e j o b s p e c i f i c a t i o n s for an a v a l a n c h e Members of the Avalanche researcher: graduate physicist, glaciologist School at Alta. with a year's study at the (Swiss) Avalanche Institute, skilled craftsman in the shop, expert ski mountaineer." 41 According to Atwater, La Chapelle came at a particularly opportune time. T h e Alta ski area was expanding. There were more buildings, lifts, and people to protect. To take care of a burgeoning administrative load and maintain any kind of research program had become too much for one person. Because of his experience in Europe, LaChapelle was interested in snow cover. Atwater said he himself had neglected the subject for various reasons, "not the least of them being my allergy to scoop shovels"42 Thanks to John Herbert, an influential Forest Service administrator in Washington, D.C. and a true friend of the avalanche research program, Atwater and LaChappelle got what they needed to create a shop of their own. LaChappelle, a highly skilled craftsman, was able to engineer and produce gadgets that he invented to collect data and facilitate research. T h e two set up a snow study plot on which they installed various data-gathering instruments and dug snow pits, a valuable technique for viewing the history of the snow cover and the condition of the base layer by layer.43 In 1949 Koziol, Atwater, and district ranger Tangren taught the first Ibid., 114. Ibid. Ibid. Herbert was assistant director of Recreation and Lands for the Forest Service.

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Avalanche School at Alta.The students were Forest Service employees, most likely snow rangers and district rangers from Forest Service offices around the West. T h e Avalanche School was initiated in order to share the knowledge gained at Alta, and before long, officials from other agencies began attending the classes for specialized training. 44 In the early years all of the major advances in avalanche research in the U.S. happened under the direction of the Forest Service along Utah's Wasatch Front. T h e Alta Avalanche School eventually b e c a m e the National Avalanche School, located near R e n o , Nevada. Also in 1949 Atwater and company first used artillery for avalanche control work. O f course, the Forest Service owned no artillery. Enter the Utah National Guard: the members of the Guard were happy to oblige, and Captain Elkins of the Guard did the actual firing of a 75mm howitzer. T h e new method was much safer than the practice of skiing to the edges of unstable slopes and setting hand-charges. Higher up the military hierarchy, however, the mood was not so enthusiastic about the non-military use of the big guns. Atwater and the snow rangers considered these guns a godsend, and once again J o h n H e r b e r t in Washington b e c a m e a key a d v o c a t e and s u c c e e d e d in h e l p i n g establish an artillery p r o g r a m . Eventually, the weaponry found a permanent home at Alta, although to this day all ammunition comes from the military and is closely monitored and controlled by the Forest Service and the U.S. Army.45 T h e avalanche research program continued to make great strides in snow science under the leadership of M o n t y Atwater and the genius of Ed LaChappelle. Atwater left the Alta center when he was offered a position in avalanche control and monitoring at the 1960 Winter Olympics in Squaw Valley, California. LaChapelle continued the research; in 1966 University of Utah graduate student R o n Perla joined him. Under the direction of the two skiing scholars the research program flourished and the Alta Avalanche Study Center produced copious publications. 46 Interestingly enough, all of the research activity coming out of the Alta Center began to attract more attention from the research branch of the Forest Service. T h e U.S. Forest Service is divided into three main sections: the National Forest System, Research, and State and Private Forestry. Administratively, the research taking place at Alta was part of the National Forest System. According to Ed LaChappelle, the research had been allowed at Alta under the auspices of "Administrative Studies."47 By the late sixties, the administration decided to transfer avalanche research activities to the regional research branch office at Fort Collins and close down the Alta Avalanche Research Center. According to former snow 44

Mark Kalitowski,"The Avalanche History of Alta," Avalanche Review, 7:3 (1988), 3. Ibid., and interview with David Ream and Bruce Tremper, Salt Lake City, Utah, August 24, 2001. 46 Kalitowski,"The Avalanche History of Alta," 8. 47 Ibid., 8 45

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ranger David R e a m and Avalanche Forecast C e n t e r d i r e c t o r B r u c e Tremper, two Forest Service employees very much concerned -with public safety and the state of k n o w l e d g e c o n c e r n i n g avalanches, the move, although understandable, was "a real shame." T h e tragedy came from the fact that -when the Alta Center closed in 1972, Ed LaChapelle left for an academic career at the University of Washington, and a great deal of knowledge on the subject either left with LaChapelle or was lost because of the mishandling and eventual disappearance of records. This event, however, in no -way discounts the great deal of progress the Forest Service made during the Alta years toward the goal of protecting the public from the potential and real destructive forces of avalanches.48 After the closing of the Alta Avalanche Study Center, many Forest Service snow rangers on the Wasatch and Cache national forests still carried out avalanche control work. However, as the ski industry grew and gained sophistication during the 1950s, '60s, and '70s, ski patrols became better trained, more professional, and better educated in the ways of snow science and avalanche control. Ski patrollers from the various ski areas operating on the national forests, worked essentially shoulder-to-shoulder with the snow rangers to control avalanches and protect the skiing public. In fact, in some cases ski area patrollers -were former snow rangers or vice versa.49 As ski areas in Utah and throughout the nation continued to grow, local snow rangers and district rangers took on increased administrative roles in the public-private partnership of providing recreation opportunities. T h e administration of ski area permits required more planning and oversight from Forest Service officials, and the job of the snow ranger was moving from on-the-ground "avalanche busting" to record-keeping and monitoring. Ski patrollers were learning about avalanche control from on-the-job training or from Forest Service-sponsored training. Eventually, it simply made sense to turn over avalanche control work to the ski patrols of the ski areas and in some cases to state highway departments as well.50 Today, the U.S. Forest Service is still very much involved in providing -winter recreation opportunities to the public. Its part of the public-private partnership still involves safety, providing expertise, and experience in snow science. Its role today, however, differs from its function w h e n the ski industry was not yet an industry. The current role involves assisting ski areas in planning to mitigate impacts to vegetation, soils, and water and to ensure resource protection. It also involves ensuring that the public voice is heard.51 It w o u l d be hard to overstate the c o n t r i b u t i o n s of Forest Service programs and policies—as -well as the collective contributions of dedicated Ream and Tremper interview. Interview with Ray Linquist, Dubois, Wyoming, September 21, 2001. Hoagland Interview. Interview with John Hoagland and Chip Sibbernsen, Salt Lake City, Utah, October 2, 2001.

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and skilled individuals—in the area of avalanche science. T h e sheer volume of w o r k s p r o d u c e d , papers p u b l i s h e d , t r a i n i n g given, and practical experience gained indicates how much -was done during the study years. Since their initial involvement, Forest Service officials have spent countless hours and tremendous effort in promoting skiing on our national forests and in protecting the skiers w h o enjoy the slopes.

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Environmentalism and the Kaiparowits Power Project, 1964—76 By DAVID KENT SPROUL

O

n September 18, 1996, President Bill Clinton stood outside the El Tovar Lodge on the rim of the Grand Canyon and made a little speech. H e announced his intention to proclaim more than 1.7 million acres of south-central Utah as the Grand StaircaseEscalante National Monument. In the center of the new monument was the Kaiparowits Plateau, a 5,000 square-mile collection of mountains, mesas, and sandstone canyons. In addition to the aesthetic qualities of the Grand Staircase region, the Kaiparowits Plateau -was important from an energy perspective. Central to President Clinton's proclamation was the fact that the plateau contained one of the -world's largest deposits of low-sulphur coal, estimated that year at thirty billion tons. 1 During the six years prior to President Clinton's proclamation, Dutch energy company Andalex Resources made plans for a 10,000-acre strip mine on the plateau near the town of Kanab, Utah. Andalex intended to mine Kaiparowits coal and ship it to energy-hungry nations such as Japan. While the monument proclamation did not specifically exclude mining operations inside the monument, it did make them nearly impossible to pursue. For environmental activists, the president's proclamation temporarily ended the long battle over the coal fields of the Kaiparowits Plateau; however, the environmental groups of the 1990s only fought one of the last battles of a longer -war. The historical controversy over coal extraction on the plateau began quietly in 1964 -with a proposal from Southern California Edison known as the Kaiparowits Power Project.

Many historians believe that the most important environmental drama to grace the U t a h stage was the battle over Echo Park D a m , one of the proposed units in the Colorado River Storage Project (CRSP). Historian Mark Harvey argued that the Echo Park fight was the event that galvanized the contemporary environmental movement. 2 O n a national level this was probably true; however, in Utah the trend toward resource development at the expense of the environment continued for another decade beyond the David K. Sproul, a doctoral candidate at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, is also author of A Brie Between Cultures: An Administrative History of Rainbow Bridge National Monument.

1

R.D. Hettinger, L.N.R. Roberts, L.R.H. Biewick, and M.A. Kirschbaum, Preliminary Investigations of the Distribution and Resources of Coal in the Kaiparowits Plateau. U.S. Geological Survey Open-File Report 96-539 (Denver, 1996), 1, 26-30. This study determined that actual coal deposits exceeded 60 billion tons; however, the authors noted that approximately 32 billion tons could not be mined due to excessive depth and technological limitations. 2 Mark W T Harvey, A Symbol of Wilderness: Echo Park and the American Conservation Movement (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1994), 287-90.

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CRSP. The historical record also bears this out. Realizing too late what they had traded away, environmentalists such as David Brower lobbied tirelessly but without success to block construction of the Glen Canyon unit of the CRSP. That unit inundated hundreds of miles of pristine canyons. Environmental activists were unable to employ the courts successfully to prevent Secretary of Interior Stewart Udall from ordering closure of the final diversion gates at Glen Canyon, which occurred in January 1963. If Echo Park galvanized the national environmental movement, when did that force manifest itself in Utah? W h e n did it become so difficult to extract resources from the remote areas of the Southwest? Utahns had always favored use over preservation, but it was not until the mood of the nation at large reflected preservation that Utah's penchant for development ran into serious opposition. While the controversy over the Colorado River Storage Project revealed the patina of a national sentiment that opposed development, the legislative mood of the national government was not yet there. By successfully completing Glen Canyon Dam, the federal government bowed in small measure to pressure from environmentalists over the CRSP. The real watershed event that signaled Utah's forced transition to preservation was the battle over the Kaiparowits Power Project (KPP). Though not as grandiose in scale as Echo Park and the CRSP, the Kaiparowits Project represented more potential prosperity to Utahns and the West as a whole. It also marked one of the last great efforts of Southern California utilities to extract resources in their periphery and profit by them. It was the combination of national mood favoring protection of the environment, the requisite legislation that reflected that mood, and the work of environmental groups capitalizing on both that finally derailed the largest electric power-generating scheme ever conceived in the continental United States. The battle over the CRSP, when juxtaposed with the subsequent fight over the Kaiparowits Project, proved that environmental movements could achieve only small measures of success in the socio-political climate of the 1950s and early 1960s. It took national sentiment and legislation focused on environmental protection to produce genuine changes in a West dominated by pro-development leaders and electorates. The KPP's importance is in its role at the center of the transformative process in Utah's environmental evolution. It is important to remember that unlike the C R S P and Echo Park, which involved the efforts of only a few environmentalist groups, the opponents of the KPP benefitted from the full blossom of the environmental movement. Dozens of groups involved themselves in the KPP battle. Had those conservation groups not been involved, the KPP would have surely been built. The Kaiparowits Plateau lies 300 miles south of Salt Lake City in Utah's south-central desert. It embodies a level of natural diversity found in very few parts of the world. The topography of the plateau covers approximately 5,000 square miles and varies thousands of feet in elevation. There was and

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still is very little development on the plateau, evidenced by the scanty population and small number of towns. This part of southern Utah is considered a geologic masterpiece with three-hundred-mile vistas and red taffy canyons most people only get to see on postcards. T h e plateau is bordered on the west by Bryce Canyon and to the east by the Waterpocket Fold and Capitol Reef National Park. To the south the plateau is guarded by Glen Canyon and the Glen Canyon National Recreation Area and to the north by the town of Escalante and Utah's scenic Highway 12. The majority of the plateau lies inside Kane County. B e t w e e n 1964 and 1976, a small war raged over the fate of the Kaiparowits Plateau. The conflict focused on a Southern California Edison proposal to extract enormous quantities of coal from environmentally sensitive areas on the plateau and burn it in a coal-fired power plant located near the mine. Edison wanted to export the power to southern California and central Arizona. Known as the Kaiparowits Power Project (KPP), the plan depended on the construction of a coal-fired power plant less than fifty miles north of Lake Powell. Designed to produce 3,500 megawatts of electricity, the plant would need to burn approximately 25,000 to 30,000 tons of coal per day. Edison planned to take the coal from deep-shaft mines.The project's golden ring was the net product: tremendous quantities of inexpensive electricity sent to southern California and central Arizona via 2,000 miles of above-ground, high-wire cable.3 The 1960s were a time of change even in the remote American southwest. Understanding the problems encountered by California and Arizona utilities in their attempt to extract and process southern Utah coal depends in large part on understanding how national changes in attitudes toward the environment played out on the Kaiparowits Plateau. In the years following the first water permit applications for the project in 1964, public utility companies grossly underestimated both the real power of the national environmental movement and the legislative trend toward evaluating resource development with regard to potential environmental harm. This lack of foresight may have been the death knell of the KPP, but it was not surprising. Southern California never really encountered difficulty acquiring the resources it needed prior to the 1960s. Its capacity for resource hegemony remained untested. Before the 1960s, western metropolitan centers used remote areas like the Kaiparowits Plateau as resource supermarkets. After 1945 the American West experienced tremendous growth, which radically intensified metropolitan energy needs. Extractive industries based on uranium, timber, and natural gas became conduits to prosperity in the post-war West, a fact Art

3 William R. Gould Collection, MS 619, Box 6, Folder 11, Special Collections, Marriott Library, University of Utah; U.S. Department of the Interior, Bureau of Land Management (BLM), Final Environmental Impact Statement (EIS), Proposed Kaiparowits Project (1976), Chapter I, p. 5.

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Gomez demonstrated admirably in his study Artist's conception of Kaiparowits of the Four Corners region. 4 Metropolitan Generation Station with 700'high centers in the West, such as San Francisco and staCkS j u n e i973 Los Angeles, -were very accustomed to taking what they needed from the economic hinterlands. For a time, it seemed to be beneficial to both sides of the equation: as the West's large cities grew, their resource-laden periphery grew as well. It was in this climate of post-war growth and resource acquisition that a group of public utilities conceived the Kaiparowits Power Project. Southern Utah's coal reserves were thought to be immense. By the early 1960s, improved technology estimated coal deposits in the region at 20 to 40 billion tons. 5 Burdened by enormous population growth, southern California utility companies knew the solution to providing sufficient power to their expanding customer base lay outside California. Impressed by favorable coal estimates, Arizona Public Service Company, San Diego Gas & Electric Company, and Southern California Edison formed a partnership to explore the energy potential in southern Utah. They surveyed parts of the Kaiparowits Plateau for coal extraction in early 1964. O n November 6, 1964, the conglomerate presented a plan to the Utah Water and Power Board for construction of the Kaiparowits Power Project. 6 In their presentation to Utah officials, utilities representatives focused almost exclusively on the economic benefits to Utah and the nation. The KPP was an immense undertaking from the beginning. Edison set 4 Arthur R. Gomez, Quest for the Golden Circle: The Four Corners and the Metropolitan West,1945-1970 (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1994), 14-15, 46-48. 5 Orson L.Anderson to Paul Howard, State Director, Bureau of Land Management, August 15, 1975, Box 14, Folder 1792.630; Kaiparowits Environmental Impact Study, 1964-1976 (KEIS, 1964-1976); Environmental Impact Statements, 1964-1981 (EIS, 1964-1981); General Records of the Bureau of Land Management, Record Group 49 (RG 49), National Archives-Rocky Mountain R e g i o n , Denver, Colorado, (NA-RM). 6 Deseret News, November 7, 1964.

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the initial price tag at $500 million. Edison claimed the investment -would result in an annual revenue injection to Utah of at least $20 million. These were impressive figures, especially for rural southern Utah in the 1960s. Edison officials, feeling they may not have persuaded Utah sufficiently to accept their plan, hinted that if the development plan fell through they would be forced to consider nuclear power alternatives. But there -was little chance of Utahns balking at the enormous financial opportunity placed at their doorstep. While most Utah state legislators and land management officials lauded the plan immediately, some were not so easily swayed. One member of the Utah Water and Power Board said "the operation of this plant would amount to exporting Utah water and coal to the West Coast by wire." 7 This criticism became the framework for much of the campaign that sought to derail the project. Initial construction goals for the Kaiparowits Project involved three deep-shaft coal mines, capable of delivering 15,000 tons of coal per day. Two 750,000-kilowatt generators would be constructed, using at least 102,000 acre-feet of water from the Colorado River. 8 All of these figures were revised upward as more accurate estimates of coal deposits became available. Bureau of R e c l a m a t i o n officials were skeptical of the low estimates for water consumption. Given the inherent demand for water throughout the Four Corners region, Reclamation officials claimed that the Colorado River would not be able to support the planned project. They warned the utility companies that other sources, including Lake Powell, -would have to be considered. Even Utah Senator Frank Moss, one of the project's earliest and most vocal supporters, expressed concern in 1965 over the possible effects on the Lake Powell -watershed. Moss -was most likely hedging his political bets, as he also supported legislation for Lake Powell and the proposed Glen Canyon National Recreation Area. H e remained exceptionally confident in the project and its potential. O n September 9, 1965, Moss issued a press release that declared "in five years, the first power should be transmitted to major markets in Arizona and Southern California." 9 Objections over water consumption -were drowned out under the praise of economic opportunity. Kane County officials estimated the tax revenue alone at $10 million over the life of the project. Through the first two years of planning the KPP, there was little or no mention of any possible environmental impacts. The KPP moved at moderate pace for a time. In July 1966 the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) made all the necessary coal lease options available to Southern California Edison and its partners. O n e m o n t h later,

7

Ibid., Salt Lake Tribune, November 7, 1964. Gould Papers, MS 619, Box 6, Folder 11, Special Collections, Marriott Library; Deseret News, November 7, 1964, 9 Press Release, February 11, 1965, Press Release, March 24, 1965, Press Release, September 9, 1965, Frank Moss Papers, MS 146, Box 189, Folders 3, 7, 24, Special Collections, Marriott Library. 8

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Arizona Public Service Company began reviewing plans for construction of the power plant. Edison became the official project manager for the KPP. Most of 1967 was spent reviewing final topographic analyses and g e n e r a t i n g final maps that located each of the many facilities. At this point the project ran into various p e r m i t t i n g p r o b lems, in large part due to vacillating plans and cons u m p t i o n d e m a n d s from Edison. Managers were unconcerned, having anticipated that a project of this m a g n i t u d e w o u l d not be realized overnight. But the delays grew longer, especially c o n c e r n i n g the project's increasing need for w a t e r , an e v e r - s e n s i t i v e subject in the Upper Colorado River Basin Utah Governor Calvin L. states. Eventually, Utah Governor Calvin L. Rampton, a supporter of the Rampton stepped in to facilitate the project's Kaiparowits Power Project. completion. H e arranged several meetings with federal officials regarding the KPP and what he considered its failing status. By September 1968, under direct pressure from utilities officials and Governor Rampton, Secretary of the Interior Stewart Udall endorsed the KPP. At an unhurried pace, the KPP rolled toward completion. Between 1969 and 1973, the original plan expanded measurably, adding a fourth deep-shaft coal mine. Estimates of coal consumption rose to 23,000 tons per day. The generating facilities condensed to a single unit capable of producing 3,500 megawatts of electricity each year—the largest coal-fired power generating station in North America. The total number of permanent jobs created by the KPP would exceed 2,000 in Kane County alone. The total investment for project completion soared to $3.5 billion.10 While project managers were busy planning an even bigger power plant, n e w environmental legislation emerged that gave opposition groups '"Salt Lake Tribune, December 19, 1964, July 15, 1966, August 12, 1966, August 19, 1966, August 17, 1967,July 19, 1968, September 17, 1968.

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important tools for fighting the KPP. In the public debate that emerged, it was the National Environmental Policy Act (NEPA) and its requirement of an environmental impact statement that helped opponents the most.11 The NEPA required an environmental impact statement for any project developed on federal land or funded by a federal agency. Dams and power plants were evaluated for more than their economic potential. The NEPA made every p o t e n t i a l e n v i r o n m e n t a l i m p a c t a r e q u i s i t e c o n s i d e r a t i o n . Environmental groups opposed to projects like the KPP seized on the NEPA as an important tool in their cause. To stave off the inevitable lawsuits inspired by the NEPA, Secretary of the Interior Rogers C. B. M o r t o n ordered a Southwest Energy Study, which commenced on May 27, 1971. Morton claimed that the large number of rights-of-way demanded by utility companies (for completion of the above ground transmission system) required a more intensive analysis of the project's effects on the multiple ecosystems it might impact. The study proposal did not have the effect Morton intended. O n June 2, 1971, a year and half after President R i c h a r d N i x o n signed the N E P A into law, the Environmental Defense Fund and the National Wildlife Federation sued Secretary Morton. The suit sought an injunction against the Department of the Interior and the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) from providing any more rights-of-way to utility companies in pursuit of the KPP. Of the many claims for relief, the suit demanded completion of an environmental impact statement to assess the project. As a result of this legal attention, the BLM was compelled to begin environmental consideration of Edison's power scheme under the terms of the NEPA. 12 Impact statements were also part of the public record, providing a new vector for non-governmental input into the decision-making process. Agencies that produced impact statements solicited responses to the EIS from private and public groups, many of w h o m had gone unheard during previous federal project planning. This was critical in the campaign against the KPP, as the unhurried attitude of Edison project managers before 1970 was ultimately the project's undoing. The irony in this case was that Utah development officials approved the original Edison proposal in 1964 on the condition that construction begin before January 1, 1970. Had Edison lived up to t h e s c h e d u l i n g a g r e e m e n t , r a t h e r t h a n c o u n t i n g o n t h e unwavering support of Utah's conservative and pro-energy leadership, the Kaiparowits project would have been grandfathered in and not required to undergo an environmental impact analysis. The campaign against the Kaiparowits Power Project echoed the spirit of

11

Hal K. Rothman, The Greening of a Nation?: Environmentalism in the United Stales since 1945 (Fort Worth: Harcourt Brace College Publishers, 1998), 115-16. 12 Interior Secretary Rogers C. B. Morton to Governor Calvin L. Rampton, June 13, 1973, Moss Papers, Ms 146, Box 615, Folder 8; Copy of Claim for Relief, Box 618, Folder 6, Special Collections, Marriott Library.

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the times. The 1973 Endangered Species Act, which Senator Moss helped draft in its final form, and its concordant philosophy of placing sensitive habitats ahead of economic gain in the development process, also provided an important theme in the general response to the KPP. Other environmentalist ideas, codified in law in various Clean Air or Clean Water acts, found their way into the battle over the KPP. Public debate and media coverage emerged over visual and atmospheric pollution, the potential for water toxicity and waste, the need for energy conservation, and opposition to resource colonialism. These were all part of the struggle against the KPP. For their part, backers of the KPP invoked classic themes like positive growth, economic prosperity, and the fear of rising dependence on foreign oil. With very few exceptions, the rhetorical debate over the KPP found industrial and ancillary governmental groups on the side of the power project and public interest groups on the side of preservation. Using the frequency of local and regional news stories about environmental damage on the Kaiparowits Plateau as a barometer of public awareness and concern, one can see the public discourse over the KPP and the opposition to it rising measurably after 1968, with stories appearing in Utah weekly at first and eventually daily As the tide of environmental legislation swept across the nation, negative opinion of the KPP increased decidedly. And as project parameters expanded, so, too, did the base of opposition. Groups from inside Utah and around the West started questioning the possible environmental impact from the project. As more information was made available to the public, more groups took issue with the KPP. The major level of opposition came between 1974 and 1976, when the Bureau of Land Management was working on the first draft of the environmental impact statement for the KPP. This document revealed the complete scope of the project and its overall impact on the environment. The EIS indicated a strong reliance on the opinions of non-governmental sources in the final assessment of the project. Dozens of groups representing hundreds of thousands of members weighed in on development of the Kaiparowits Plateau. Chapter 9 of the impact statement for the KPP, which contained only the responses written specifically to the environmental assessment, totaled 816 pages. A total of sixty-six non-governmental (NGO) organizations provided input to the EIS. Of those, fifty-seven could be considered environmentalist groups. The complete impact statement came in at more than 3,000 pages. These groups offered opinions and data that project managers never anticipated and may not have had access to prior to the NEPA. While the public comment provided important information to BLM analysts, it also presented a degree of opposition that added to the length of the process. The subsequent delays were very costly to Edison and its partners. In response to growing criticism and public scrutiny, project supporters nationalized the project rationale. The summary section of the EIS listed two reasons for construction of the KPP. The first was the obvious and

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increasing demand for power in southern California. T h e growth rate was pegged at 6.8 percent per year, too high a rate for Southern California Edison to meet without external help. 13 Critics were quick to point out that this argument was based on a classic boondoggle. California's legislature had passed various smog control measures that effectively banned new coal-fired energy sources inside the state's b o u n d a r i e s . Consequently, Edison could not burn Utah coal close to home. Banning coal-fired power in its own backyard became the unspoken justification for burning coal at the m o u t h of the mine in Utah. T h e repugnance of this logic was not lost on activists like Dennis Davis, chairman of the Bridgerland A u d u b o n Society in Logan, Utah. Davis was willing to acknowledge the tax and income benefits generated by the Kaiparowits Project; however, the glaring inequity of all the environmental costs being borne in Utah could not be overlooked. 14 E n v i r o n m e n t a l i s t s , such as D o r o t h y G u m a e r of t h e S o u t h e a s t e r n Colorado Wilderness Alliance, found this to be a spurious proposition given that 94 percent of the power generated by the project -was destined for California and Arizona but 100 percent of the environmental burden was to be borne in Utah.Virlis L. Fischer of Outdoors Unlimited lobbied Paul Howard, then Utah state director for the Bureau of Land Management, to reconsider the extra-regional scheme implicit in the Kaiparowits Project. Fischer went so far as to suggest that if California and Arizona were the primary beneficiaries of the project, they should use their allocation of Colorado River water to run the operation. 15 Playing the role of regional resource magnate -was not new for southern California. But utilities officials had more difficulty defending their role with regard to the Kaiparowits Project. T h e "green revolution" was in full swing across America and legislation -was in place specifically designed to prevent this kind of resource exportation. Southern California Edison was ill prepared for this criticism. Edison's inadequate response to popular attacks went a long way toward explaining the second rationale for building the KPP. T h e EIS observed "because of the increasing cost of oil, the scarcity of natural gas, and the decreasing reliance on oil imports, it is necessary to shift as much as practical to the use of more available domestic fuels, such as coal."16 This overt homage to the idea of energy self-sufficiency, b o r n of the 1972 O P E C embargo, clearly demonstrated that Americans were still afraid of returning to a state of energy dependence. 1 7 Groups like the U t a h Manufacturers 13

BLM, Final EIS, Chapter I, pp. 3-4. Marga Raskin, "Smog Alert for O u r Southwestern National Parks" The National Parks and Conservation Magazine: The Environmental Journal (July 1975), 10-11. Dennis R . Davis to Paul Howard, September 28, 1975; KEIS, 1964-1976; EIS, 1964-1981; R G 49, N A - R M . 15 Dorothy Gumaer to Paul Howard, September 11, 1975;Virlis L. Fischer to Paul Howard, September 15,1975; KEIS, 1964-1976; EIS, 1964-1981; R G 49, N A - R M . 16 BLM, Final EIS, Chapter I, p. 4. "Salt Lake Tribune, December 30, 1973, May 8, 1975, December 13, 1975. 14

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Association and the Utah Mining Association coalesced around this theme in their support of the KPP. These groups also made heavy use of e c o n o m ic data that suggested e n o r m o u s revenue gains to residents of K a n e County. 18 But the raw data on the project's consumptive nature u n d e r mined the nationalist rationale of decreasing dependence on foreign oil. To maintain efficient and consistent firing levels in the generating furnaces, the plant would have to consume nearly 11 million barrels of oil during its projected thirty-five year life. This oil consumption -was in addition to the revised estimate for coal c o n s u m p t i o n , -which t h e i m p a c t s t a t e m e n t reported as nine million tons each year for thirty-five years. In the end, it -was the hard data on environmental damage that energized the most vocal opponents. To cool the generating process at m i n i m u m production levels, the KPP would have to consume at least 50,000 acre-feet of water per year from Lake Powell. It was more likely that the project would consume more than 100,000 acre-feet annually These consumption needs ran hard against certain hydrologic realities. Lake Powell simply could not provide the total -water necessary over the life of the project and still meet the obligations imposed on it under terms of the Colorado River Storage Project. O r s o n L. A n d e r s o n , c o o r d i n a t o r of the Lake Powell Research Project, argued that the Lake Powell watershed would fail to provide sufficient -water to the K P P after only t w e n t y - t h r e e years. In addition, there was no real guarantee that the deep-shaft mines alone could produce coal at a sufficient rate. This meant that there -was no surety against resorting to open-pit strip mining to acquire the necessary coal.19 O n e of the more glaring defects in the projects planning and evaluation process was the -way many proponents had pushed forward as though the K P P would operate in a vacuum. Unfortunately for project advocates, various groups and individuals began to review the project in terms of its contribution to the overall effect on the Kaiparowits region. By the time the Kaiparowits Project -was under federal review, four other large-scale coal-fired p o w e r projects were either on the table or operational in southern Utah: the Navajo Generating Station at Page, Arizona; the Four Corners Generating Station at Fruitland, N e w Mexico; the San Juan Power Plant, also at Fruitland; and the Huntington Plant in Huntington, Utah. All of these facilities were on-line prior to 1975 and before B L M officials had even completed their review of the KPP. As they prepared the EIS, utility officials, BLM personnel, and environmentalists realized that the KPP was planned with little consideration of the cumulative impact of coal-fired

18 Robert Halladay, Executive Vice President, Utah Manufacturers Association to Paul Howard; Paul S. Rattle, Manager, Utah Mining Association to Paul Howard, September 18, 1975; KEIS, 1964-1976; EIS, 1964-1981; R G 49, N A - R M . 19 Orson L.Anderson to Paul Howard, August 15, 1975; KEIS, 1964-1976; EIS, 1964-1981; R G 49, N A - R M . Orson L.Anderson to Senator Frank Moss, May 2, 1975, Moss Papers, MS 146, Box 618, Folder 2, Special Collections, Marriott Library.

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power on the plateau. 20 T h e potential waste generated by this project was immense. T h e EIS detailed some critical statistics. If the air pollution control equipment could be operated at design levels the plant would emit 52 tons of sulphur dioxide, 14 tons of particulate, and 250 tons of nitrogen oxides per day. The solid waste produced amounted to 120 million cubic yards to be disposed of on a 1,500-acre waste site also located in southern Utah. 21 T h e EIS received protests from thirty-two Utah environmental groups and seven national groups decrying the air pollution that would be created by the KPP. These groups also contested the designation of the area as a Class II air quality location. A Class II designation meant that "no significant deterioration" in air quality could be tolerated in accordance with the 1970 Clean Air Act. A Class I area was an area where no reduction in air quality was tolerated. 22 The concern was that the proposed site for the KPP was less than one hundred miles from eight sites which were then being evaluated for Class I designation: Bryce C a n y o n N a t i o n a l Park, C a n y o n l a n d s N a t i o n a l Park, C a p i t o l R e e f N a t i o n a l Park, C e d a r Breaks N a t i o n a l M o n u m e n t , Z i o n National Park, Grand Canyon National Park, Pipe Springs National Monument, and Navajo National M o n u m e n t . National Park Service director Gary Everhardt also expressed his concerns directly to the BLM that environmentally unique areas close to the project would eventually obtain Class I status, such as Escalante Canyon and the Paria River Primitive Area. 23 In 1970 William R . Gould, vice-president for Southern California Edison and the lead supervisor on the Kaiparowits project, presented a paper at the Annual E n g i n e e r i n g Symposium at B r i g h a m Y o u n g U n i v e r s i t y that c o n t a i n e d a f r i g h t e n i n g d e g r e e of prescience. H e wrote: It is also well to bear in mind that while we have given high priority in our planning to preservation of the e n v i r o n m e n t , should unrealistic and unnecessary air quality standards be set, this factor alone could add costs to the project, which would destroy its e c o n o m i c advantages. Similarly, u n w a r r a n t e d o p p o s i t i o n by w e l l - m e a n i n g , but u n i n f o r m e d and unrealistic environmentalists could also provide an impenetrable barrier to the successful completion of this project. 24

There was steady opposition to the overt resource colonialism this project epitomized, where primarily southern California consumers reaped the benefits from development and the environmental costs were borne by Utah and its ecosystem. T h e Mineralogical Society of Utah, generally

20 Robert L. Coshland to Paul Howard, September 22, 1975; KEIS, 1964-1976; EIS, 1964-1981; R G 49, N A - R M ; Issue Briefs, Moss Papers, MS 146, Box 619, Folder 1, Special Collections, Marriott Library 21 BLM, Final EIS, Chapter I, pp. iii, 4-20. 22 Raskin, 15; John C. Freemuth, Islands Under Siege: National Parks and the Politics of External Threats (Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 1991), 20-22. 23 Gary Everhardt to State Director, BLM, September 30, 1975; KEIS, 1964-1976; EIS, 1964-1981; R G 49, N A - R M . 24 Gould Papers, MS 619, Box 40, Folder 8, Special Collections, Marriott Library.

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committed to multiple-use of natural resources, lobbied BLM director Paul Howard to c o n s i d e r t h e ethics of b u r n i n g coal in o n e state and sending the re-wards to another. Hundreds of letters to t h e B L M e c h o e d this anti-colonial sentiment d u r i n g the EIS evaluation process. R e g i o n a l newspapers even -went so far as to speculate that the KPP, if c o m p l e t e d , -would set t h e p r e c e d e n t for ever m o r e aggressive resource exportation. T h e Arizona Republic suggested that nuclear power facilities might even be constructed in Arizona or U t a h to ship p o w e r to California. 25 William Gould -was committed to countering these regionalist trepid a t i o n s -with r e g i o n a l i s t r h e t o r i c . A t t h e K a i p a r o w i t s E n e r g y S y m p o s i u m in J u n e 1975, Gould said:

William R. Gould, chief of Southern

California

executive Edison

Power Company and lead super-

T h e facts are that the largest part of Utah's rightful visor for the Kaiparowits Power allocation of Colorado River water is n o w running free of charge d o w n the C o l o r a d o to California Project. simply because there are not enough ready-to-go, approved projects for using this water in Utah. T h e state cannot and must not let its water flow unused forever d o w n the river just to protect water quality downstream. 26

In 1973, the KPP experienced a major setback. T h e Southwest Energy Study, begun by the Department of the Interior in 1971, -was completed in D e c e m b e r 1972. Six m o n t h s later, U t a h G o v e r n o r Calvin R a m p t o n received a letter from Secretary of the Interior Rogers C.B. M o r t o n . Based on the information assembled by the study team, Secretary M o r t o n "determined that it -would be unwise to grant [further] permits for development of a coal-fired power plant on the Kaiparowits Plateau." M o r t o n cited

25 Mineralogical Society of Utah to Paul Howard, September 29, 1975; KEIS, 1964-1976; EIS, 19641981; R G 49, NA-RM; Arizona Republic, October 1, 1975. 26 William R . Gould, "Rape or Riches for Utah," Opening Remarks, Kaiparowits Energy Symposium, June 20, 1975, Gould Papers, MS 619, Box 42, Folder 11, Special Collections, Marriott Library.

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many of the standard reasons, such as concerns over water consumption. But the major reason for -withdrawing his support dealt with the proposed Glen C a n y o n N a t i o n a l R e c r e a t i o n Area. Glen C a n y o n N R A was scheduled for final authorization that year, due in large part to legislation written and sponsored by Senator Frank Moss. M o r t o n told Governor Rampton that the scenic beauty of Glen Canyon could not be threatened by the inevitable atmospheric degradation caused by the KPP. Another power plant on the Kaiparowits Plateau, according to Morton, would only exacerbate the problems created by extant generating stations, such as the Navajo Plant in Page, Arizona. Morton summarily rejected all pending applications for rights-of-way related to the Kaiparowits Project.27 By 1976 the frustration level among Utah's legislators was beginning to show. Faced with increasing delays, growing costs, and the unrelenting attacks of major environmentalist groups, Utah power brokers were furious about the unrealized economic potential of the Kaiparowits Plateau. Even activists such as actor Robert Redford had begun vocalizing public opposition to the project at well-covered and orchestrated media events. At a chamber of commerce meeting in Orem, Republican Senator Jake Garn told the audience that R o b e r t Redford, Friends of the Earth, and the Environmental Defense Fund had no right to interfere w i t h Utah's development projects. In a throwback to the late nineteenth century, Garn commented "I don't think it's anybody's damn business what -we do in the state of Utah." In the spring of 1976, residents of Kanab, Utah, (the town closest to the proposed project) burned Redford in effigy on Kanab's Main Street.28 Opponents to the KPP also began highlighting legal concerns over how the project might fail to comply with provisions of other legislation. Various governmental organizations also noted these potential problems. The Advisory Council on Historic Preservation in Washington, D O , and the Utah Department of Development Services criticized utility company plans for failing to provide procedures to minimize impacts to archaeological sites. Section 106 of the 1966 National Historic Preservation Act required this type of preventive planning. 29 The EIS even provided environmentalists with fuel for debate over species and habitat destruction. T h e impact statement indicated that at least twelve endangered species of fish and wildlife would be adversely affected.30 Other species "as yet unidentified" could also be affected severely. Academics, such as University of Utah 27 Rogers C. B. Morton to Governor Calvin L. Rampton, June 13, 1973, Moss Papers, Ms 146, Box 615, Folder 8, Special Collections, Marriott Library. 28 Sa/f Lake Tribune, April 19, 1976, copy in Gould Papers, MS 619, Box 42, Folder 11, Special Collections, Marriott Library. 29 Gary Everhardt to Paul Howard, State Director; David B. Madsen, Utah Department of Development Services, to Paul Howard, August 4, 1975; Louis S. Wall, Assistant Director, Advisory Council on Historic Preservation, to Paul Howard, September 12, 1975; KEIS, 1964-1976; EIS, 1964-1981; R G 49, N A - R M . 30 BLM, Final EIS, Chapter III, pp. 13-18.

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professor D e l b e r t W i e n s , conservative s p o r t s m e n like U t a h O u t d o o r Federation president Dave Wallace, and representatives from eighteen different N G O s , including Friends of the Earth and the Environmental Defense F u n d , s u b m i t t e d w r i t t e n responses to the i m p a c t statement detailing the effect of the generating plant and the transmission lines on species and habitats. 31 Despite the number and variety of responses to BLM analysis efforts, there was still a large segment of the Utah population that was in favor of developing Kaiparowits coal despite the potential effects on Utah's ecosystem. In May 1975 Senator Frank Moss conducted a survey of Utahns on various political and social issues. T h e survey's lead item asked Utahns w h e t h e r or n o t the Kaiparowits Project should p r o c e e d . T h e survey generated an impressive 85,374 responses. According to Moss, 82.1 percent of respondents supported construction of the KPP.32 This juxtaposed starkly with the public c o m m e n t s received at the U t a h B L M office between November 1974 and December 1975. By January 1976, two months before publication of the EIS final draft, the BLM's Utah office had received 5,793 letters regarding the KPP. O f these, the BLM reported that 4,933 opposed the project, 837 supported development, and 23 offered no position. 33 T h e public response suggested that the KPP was not a one-sided issue. National trends in legislation and environmental thinking were clearly evident in the debate over the KPP. Media polls taken between 1969 and 1976 suggested that a strong degree of opposition had n o t only been present in U t a h all along but that it had g r o w n stronger as the K P P became mired more deeply in federal scrutiny Local newspapers increasingly reported vocal concerns over air pollution, water consumption, total cost, and actual need. N o t surprisingly, newspaper polls indicated immense support among Kane County residents and Utah state officials as late as 1976, w h e n regional and e x t r a - r e g i o n a l o p p o s i t i o n was at its peak. Unfortunately for Kane County and Edison boosters, the local support was too little, too late.34 O n D e c e m b e r 30, 1975, officials from S o u t h e r n California Edison announced a self-imposed one-year moratorium on the KPP. They claimed additional evaluation was necessary in light of protracted approval delays and environmental concerns. O n the morning of April 14, 1976, William R . Gould sent a telegram to each of Utah's congressional delegation, the

3! Greg McKennis, Arizona Audubon Society, to Mike Johnson, BLM, September 22, 1975; Douglas C. Baker, President, Arizona Wildlife Federation, to Paul Howard, September 29, 1975; Dave Wallace, President, Utah Wildlife and Outdoor Recreation Federation, to Paul Howard, November 6, 1975; Dr. Delbert Wiens to Paul Howard, November 6, 1975; Gordon Anderson, Friends of the Earth, to Paul Howard, November 13,1975; KEIS, 1964-1976; EIS, 1964-1981; R G 49, N A - R M . 32 Moss Papers, MS 146, Box 565, Folder 9, Special Collections, Marriott Library. 33 BLM, Final EIS, Chapter IX, p. 22. M Salt Lake Tribune, October 5, 1969, April 17, 1970, April 22, 1971, June 30, 1971, August 29, 1971, February 24, 1976,July 31, 1976; Deseret News, April 14, 1976.

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secretary of the interior, the White House, the Council on Environmental Quality, and the EPA a n n o u n c i n g Edison's decision to abandon the Kaiparowits Power Project. The same afternoon, all three utility companies announced publicly they were dropping out of the project, citing rising costs and extended delays. Gould offered very little public comment about the effect of environmental groups and rhetoric on the demise of the KPP. T h e utilities conglomerate promised to continue the fight for other projects that were under consideration in southern Utah. Local officials could not avoid being disappointed over their missed opportunities. "That power plant would have made Kane County," said Kanab Mayor Claude Glazier. "We -would have had m o n e y like we never, never dreamed." Opponents responded by noting that Utah had effectively been forced into long-term consideration of environmental sensitivity. June Viavant, a Salt Lake City resident and member of the national board of the Sierra Club, observed that the whole plan to extract Kaiparowits coal "...was like Esau...the state wanted to sell its heritage for a bowl of pottage." 35 The assumptions encountered in the debate over the KPP were numerous and worth consideration. Utah was seen as a resource haven for the metropolitan West. Uranium, water, and waste disposal were Utah's connection with the urban -west and to some degree the rest of the nation. In 1964 public utilities planners assumed that a project like the KPP would be hailed as the crown jewel of Utah's energy crown. Utah government officials and utilities executives were confident that only the details needed to be worked out before breaking ground on the KPP. This was a critical error. They obviously underestimated the national shift in environmental attitudes. Boosters also underestimated the ability of environmentally minded individuals as well as the influence of nationally based environmental interest groups. These groups did exactly what they set out to accomplish. T h e y delayed the K P P so long that the cost of p r o d u c i n g a ton of Kaiparowits coal increased five-fold before a single ton could be mined. 36 By 1976 environmental groups engaged Southern California Edison, San Diego Gas & Electric, and Arizona Public Service in a two-front war, forcing utilities to fight both rising costs and rising public awareness. Utah was no longer a regional supermarket of cheap, exploitable resources. The campaign that environmental groups waged against the Edison proposal demonstrated the full maturity of environmentalism in Utah as activists shut the door on environmentally costly development projects. By combining traditional environmentalist techniques, such as letter-writing campaigns and direct pressure on key legislators, with efforts to influence the final

35 Gould Papers, MS 619, Box 13, Folder 7, Special Collections, Marriott Library; Los Angeles Times, April 25, 1976; Deseret News, April 14, 1976; Salt Lake Tribune, December 31, 1975, April 15, 1976, April 16, 1976.The other projects were the Warner-Valley Project and the Intermountain Power Project. ^Deseret News, April 15, 1976. The cost of producing one ton of coal in 1964 was approximately $7.00. By 1976, the same ton of coal cost $35.00 to extract.

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disposition of the Bureau of Land Management's environmental impact statement, activists showed just how far they had come from the Sierra Club campaign of the 1950s that successfully prevented construction of Echo Park Dam but failed to stop Glen Canyon Dam. In the late 1980s Southern California Edison sold its coal lease options to another hopeful energy contender, Andalex Resources. With that sale, controversy erupted over the proposal to strip-mine the Kaiparowits Plateau and ship the coal to Japan and E u r o p e . T h e larger war for Kaiparowits coal, temporarily stayed with President Clinton's Grand Staircase proclamation, has yet to be played out.

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REVIEWS

Moving Stories: Migration and the American West 1850—2000

Edited by Scott E.

Casper and Lucinda M. Long (Reno: Nevada Humanities Committee, 2001. A Halcyon Imprint, xvii + 299 pp. Paper, $14.95.) MOVING STORIES is not, as the title might suggest, an anthology of narratives about westward migration. It is, rather, a collection of scholarly essays by different hands using a variety of approaches about movement to, within, and out of the West. These studies, nevertheless, move us (in the double sense the title implies)— intellectually by new facts and insights, and at times emotionally by the lives of the migrants themselves -who nowhere in these essays are allowed to be lost in the statistics. They are voices heard in interviews, passages from diaries and memoirs, or in vivid cameo illustrations to make a point, or, as in the case of Sarah Winnemucca and the characters in the fiction of the times, fullfledged portraits. Moving Stories is a volume in the Halcyon Series published annually by the Nevada Humanities Committee through a grant from the National Endowment for the Humanities. It is an exemplary use of public funds. The halcyon, we are told, is "an ancient bird [which] calmed the waters in the face of winter gales," a fit emblem for the humanities which "can calm our fears and make safe our voyage and our young" (v). This is a publication -with a high purpose. The studies do not disappoint. From the disciplines of history, literature, and popular culture, they go well beyond the conventional accounts of overland westering which fit the optimistic "Bancroft and Turner template." They probe the implications of race, class, gender, and ethnicity as they examine economic and political causes and social consequences of distinct migrations. With creative titles such as "A N e w Opportunity for the 'Man w i t h the H o e ' " (a study o f rural r e f o r m and m a r k e t i n g in Montana) and "Into the Prefab West" (a study of federal settlements and western migration during World War II), the essays are well researched and well written, a pleasure for both academics and laymen to read. O n e contributor is Utah historian Jessie L. Embry, who writes about "Spanish-Speaking Mormons in Utah." A fine introduction by the editor, Scott Casper, provides a helpful preview of the contributions and challenges a n u m b e r of stereotypes about the westward movement, the Turner thesis in particular. Three of the studies look at autobiographical narratives

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f r o m fresh p e r s p e c t i v e s : " S o m e Is W r i t i n g S o m e R e a d i n g : Emigrants on the Overland Trail," is based on the diaries of the Stewart sisters, whose imagery echoes romantic discourse rather than the realism of the emigrant guides. " T h e Frontier Within and W i t h o u t : Gender and the M e m o i r s of R u r a l German-Speaking Immigrants" reminds us that immigrants were frontiersmen too and that immigrant w o m e n experienced the "cultural frontier" differently from the m e n . "Sarah W i n n e m u c c a : Multiple Places, M u l t i p l e S e l v e s " is a d e t a i l e d e x a m i n a t i o n o f this N a t i v e American's autobiography in terms of her roving and her evolving identity. Literature provides historical insights in three studies: "Stephen Crain and Some Others: Economics, R a c e , and the Vision of a Failed Frontier"; "Migration, Masculinity, and Racial Identity in Taylor Gordon's Born to Be" a Black autobiographical novel; and " B e t t e r Living T h r o u g h W e s t w a r d M i g r a t i o n : D o n DeLillo's Inversion of the American West as 'Virgin Land' in Underworld." All t h r e e s t u d i e s s h o w an u n d e r s t a n d i n g of h o w i m a g i n a t i v e treatment, often ironic, can b o t h characterize and critique people and events in a given historical era. T h e Great Depression and World War II triggered unprecedented movement both into and within the West and, in the aftermath, out of the West. "At the Crossroads of Whiteness: Anti-Migrant A c t i v i s m , E u g e n i c s , and P o p u l a r C u l t u r e in D e p r e s s i o n - E r a California" looks at the revival of a mythic West as migrants from t h e D u s t B o w l a n d e l s e w h e r e s o u g h t t h e p r o m i s e d land of California, the dislocated in turn dislocating the establishment and loosing the hounds of prejudice of one class against another. " I n t o the Prefab West: Federal S e t t l e m e n t and Western Migration D u r i n g W W I I " focuses o n three very different sites: Topaz, Portland's Vanport City, and Los Alamos, a fascinating study of t h e " P l y w o o d W e s t " i l l u m i n a t e d by f r e q u e n t allusion t o traditional pioneering and by refurbishing an old vocabulary. In sum, Moving Stories provides eye-opening perspectives on movement to, within, and out of the West. Five of the eleven c o n tributors are doctoral candidates and four are assistant professors. T h e solid performance by these (presumably) y o u n g academics suggests that the histories of the West still to be written will be in good hands. W I L L I A M MULDER Professor of English, Emeritus University of Utah

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First Tracks: A Century of Skiing in Utah By Alan K. Engen and Gregory C. Thompson (Salt Lake City: Gibbs-Smith Publisher, 2001. 192 pp. $50.00.) I N FIRST TRACKS Alan Engen and Gregory Thompson provide a visual journey through Utah's first century of skiing that takes full advantage of the written and pictorial resources of the Utah Ski A r c h i v e s l o c a t e d in t h e U n i v e r s i t y of U t a h ' s Special C o l l e c t i o n s area, particularly the r e c e n t d o n a t i o n s to it by co-author Alan Engen. T h e book begins with forewords by Mitt R o m n e y and Ted Wilson and a brief but useful chronology of Utah skiing from 1920 to the present. Since the book was published in September 2001, the first relatively brief chapter considers the upcoming Salt Lake City 2002 Winter Olympics. This done, the second chapter examines some of the first evidence of the skiing sport in Utah from Colonel Patrick Connor's soldier/miners to the development after 1900 of such groups as the Wasatch Mountain Club and the pioneering work of George Watson at Alta. T h e heart of the book rests in the three main chapters that trace and above all illustrate the evolvement of skiing from the 1920s to the present. Chapter Three discusses the ski jumping era of the 1920s and 1930s -when an engaging group of jumpers thrilled spectators at several Wasatch venues and attracted large numbers of people to skiing, albeit originally as spectators. The following chapter records the development of downhill skiing and the Utah resorts that -were built to accommodate this interest during the 1940s, 1950s, and 1960s. It also deals with the changes in equipment, safety procedures, and ski instruction that occurred w h e n the sport acquired greater popularity. In the fifth chapter the authors especially consider the 1948 Winter Olympic ski team on which Utahns played such a conspicuous role, and the develo p m e n t of g e l a n d e a n d a e r i a l freestyle s k i i n g as u n i q u e forms of the sport that owe much to Utahns for their origins. N o t surprisingly, nor inappropriately, Alf Engen looms large throughout the book because of the important role he played as a competitor, resort developer, and ski instructor. In addition to his own personal accomplishments, signified best by his selection as Utah's most outstanding sportsman of the twentieth century, his photograph and memorabilia collection is a major documentary resource for the book. O n e can quibble on some points. Halvor Bjorngaard died in 1931 not 1934. At some point the authors might have extended

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their discussion of certain topics. Their treatment, for example, of the University of Utah's very successful ski team is appropriate but invites at least a brief consideration of the club and varsity ski teams fielded by Utah's other educational institutions as well. This is not a detailed work, in words at least, of the history of skiing of Utah. It does not, for example, replace Alexis Kelner's well-known -work on the same subject, Skiing in Utah: A History, nor does it intend to. It is, however, certainly much more than a very tastefully-done coffee table book. If a picture is worth a thousand words, then it is clearly much longer than its 192 real pages. Engen and Thompson have skillfully combined an interesting and informative text with literally hundreds of photos to create an appealing and knowledgeable study. To this reader one of the most interesting aspects of the work -was the four-page feature on Vern Nichol and Jack Walker, not only "Two lifetime skiing buddies" but also individuals -who clearly lived the story that the authors tell. LEE SATHER Weber State University

More Wives Than One: Transformation of the Mormon Marriage 1840—1910

System

By Kathryn M. Daynes (Urbana and Chicago: University of Illinois Press,

2001. xii + 305 pp. Cloth, $34.95.) MORE WIVES THAN ONE began as Kathryn M. Daynes' doctoral dissertation at Indiana University. The dual focus of this -work is on historic and m o d e r n polygamy in Utah's Sanpete County -where many early Scandinavian Mormons settled. Against the backdrop of the nineteenth-century plural marriage practices of the Church ofJesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, the author intertwines the prophetic posturing and modern polygamy of the True and Living Church of Jesus Christ of Saints of the Last Days (TLC), a quaint gathering of several hundred polygamists in Manti. It seems an oversight that Daynes neither names her 1991 d i s s e r t a t i o n — " P l u r a l Wives and t h e N i n e t e e n t h - C e n t u r y M o r m o n Marriage System, Manti, Utah 1849-1910"—nor lists it in her bibliography. I -wondered if perhaps the title was changed by t h e U n i v e r s i t y of Illinois Press to e n h a n c e t h e b o o k ' s marketability, to make it a bit more stirring in the burned-over m a c r o c o s m of M o r m o n polygamy. Some of the dust jacket assertions by the publisher and endorsers are brazen overstatements. From an author's vantage point, I cringed to read an academic press

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imprudently and inaccurately claim: "[this book] offers the first indepth look at the long-term interaction between belief and the practice of polygamy, or plural marriage, among the Latter-day Saints," and "this superb b o o k is far and away the best study of M o r m o n polygamy ever to appear," as well as "the most authoritative a c c o u n t of M o r m o n 'plural m a r r i a g e ' — p o l y g a m y — e v e r -written." T h e complexities of Latter-day Saint polygamy and the intricacies of the principal actors w h o a d o r n e d M o r m o n d o m ' s n i n e teenth-century stage cannot be adequately appraised in 214 pages of narration. This lean offering has been over edited, an injustice to an obviously much larger and more complete dissertation. In all fairness to the author, an associate professor of history at Brigham Young University, this work is most certainly one of the finest treatments of localized M o r m o n polygamy available. T h e examination of modern Manti polygamy, under the leadership of James Harmston, is certainly a valuable addition to the overall body of published works on plural marriage. Daynes is to be applauded for the extensive base of data she has accumulated on Manti, Utah. Those of us with Sanpete ancestry are interested in where the Manti database is deposited and if it is available to researchers. I disagree w i t h the publisher's n o t a t i o n that this b o o k -will "enlighten ... general readers on an intriguing and much-misunderstood chapter of M o r m o n history." T h e work is too brief to be sufficiently informative to general readers. Furthermore, one has come to expect that historians from Brigham Young University, by necessity, will skate around the jagged edges of controversy. This is particularly evident as it relates to the duplicity of early M o r m o n leaders. These areas, under current guidelines, can mostly be dealt with in comprehensive depth only by those in the non-sponsored sectors. T h e strength of Daynes' work lies in the interpretations of her vast demographic base of historic Manti polygamy—generally a topic of greater interest to scholars than the general reader. Readers should be made aware that there are few great and "much-misunderstood" elements of M o r m o n polygamy left to explore, contrary to w h a t the publisher of this b o o k w o u l d have t h e m believe. Virtually every aspect of plural marriage, including its most controversial elements, have been dealt with quite meticulously in other works still available in print. RICHARD S. VAN WAGONER Lehi, Utah

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One Side By Himself: The Life and Times of Lewis Barney, 1808-1894

By

Ronald O. Barney (Logan: Utah State University Press, 2001. xxi + 402 pp. Cloth, .95; Paper, $24.95.) LEWIS BARNEY, who experienced much during his life in the nineteenth century, is fortunate to have as his biographer one of his descendants, Ronald O. Barney, a skilled and careful historian. This biography has been a quarter of a century in the writing and it describes in detail both in the text and in the well-documented footnotes the life of a blue-collar nineteenth century M o r m o n who is described as "a last wagon man" among Mormons of his time. R o n Barney takes considerable effort to demonstrate that Lewis Barney was not a M o r m o n leader or even a "middle wagon man" like Bishop Edwin Wooley, but rather a quiet and faithful follower, "a last wagon man." Lewis Barney's life is placed in detailed context of his times particularly of the American westward and frontier movements, of the M o r m o n colonization efforts, and in the religious enthusiasm of the early part of the nineteenth century. To underline the quality of this book, the M o r m o n History Association at its May 2002 meeting in Tucson, Arizona, awarded to Ronald O. Barney the prize for the best M o r m o n biography published in 2001. Toward the end of his life, Lewis Barney must have believed his life had been of consequence because he began to prodigiously write his memoirs, gather his correspondence, and in this effort struggled over more than a decade to place his life in some kind of written context. R o n Barney has been able to use the variety of writings of Lewis Barney as well as those of other family members and contemporary diaries and histories to place Lewis comfortably in his times and surroundings. Lewis Barney appears to be a typical American common man on the farming frontier until the conversion of the larger Barney family to Mormonism. He lives his first three years in N e w York, and the next fifteen in Ohio. Illinois is where he gains maturity, is married, participates as a soldier in the Black Hawk War, and joins with his family to Mormonism. Contrary to the author's thesis, if there are times that Lewis Barney is not a "last wagon" man they are in the Nauvoo period of M o r m o n history, and when he is a member of the first vanguard company of M o r m o n pioneers traveling to the Great Basin in the spring and summer of 1847. In Nauvoo, Lewis along with most Mormons was well-acquainted with Joseph Smith. Writing about events in 1842, Lewis noted:

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" B e i n g in c o m p a n y w i t h J o s e p h [Smith] and several o t h e r persons, Joseph said he needed a little money and if [he] had it he could put it to a better use than any other person in the world. I said nothing to him about it but went home, got 200 dollars and -went down to Joseph's store. Joseph not being present, I being acquainted with Lyman Wight, said to him, 'I have a little money for Brother Joseph that I wish to let him have.' Brother Wight said, 'Let me take it and I will hand it to him.' I told him to write me a receipt for it. While he was writing the receipt, Brother Joseph stepped in. I said 'Brother Joseph I have some money for you that I was about to let Brother Wight have for you.'Joseph said, 'I am the man to take it.' So I handed h i m the 200 dollars for which he gave his note, payable 6 months after the date" (69). Lewis Barney was chosen along with some twelve dozen other M o r m o n m e n to forge the initial M o r m o n trail to the Great Basin in 1847. Lewis' experiences during the primary trek to the Salt Lake Valley and back to Winter Quarters are filled with hard work, difficulties, and some h u m o r as he worked as a teamster, a trail breaker, and a hunter and joked with Porter Rockwell. Lewis c o n s u m e d m u c h of the last four decades of his life m o v i n g from place to place and c o n t i n u a l l y re-establishing himself. In Utah he lived for a time in the Palmyra/Spanish Fork area, in Springville, in S p r i n g t o w n in t h e Sanpete Valley, in M o n r o e in the Sevier Valley, and in Circle Valley. H e participated in plural marriage with his two wives Betsey and Elizabeth (both officially named Elizabeth) and their fifteen children. H e experienced the Walker War, grasshopper plagues, the U t a h War, the coming of the railroad, the unsettling issues related to continued moving and settlement, the M o n r o e United Order of Enoch, and for a time the experiences of a frontier educator/teacher. O n e may take exception to some minor interpretations of the author including his calling the Panic of 1837 the "recession" of this J a c k s o n i a n p e r i o d o r his s u g g e s t i n g that t h e M o r m o n Battalion in the Mexican War was to "protect American interests in the Southwest against the Mexicans." But the reader will not take exception in j u d g i n g this excellent biography to be wellwritten and researched—a b o o k that describes both the life and times of Lewis Barney. RICHARD W. SADLER Weber State University

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Navajo Land, Navajo Culture: The Utah Experience in the Twentieth

Century

By Robert S. McPherson (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 2001. xviii + 301 pp. $34.95.) R O B E R T M C P H E R S O N ' S W O R K is noteworthy in that it focuses on an often neglected portion of the Navajo Nation, and does so by relying heavily on oral sources. T h e author explores a variety of economic issues related to that region in the twentieth century, including agricultural development, herding and weaving, the trading economy, tourism, and mineral development. T h e main argument is that the Navajos were determined and adaptable in their efforts to shape their own economy while economic change, in turn, helped alter their culture. McPherson also stresses t h e n e e d for scholars to i n c o r p o r a t e Navajo voices and to interpret Navajo history in relation to Navajo traditions and culture. Rather than flowing as a single piece of scholarship, the book is a collection of related articles. O n e chapter is often quite different from another in approach, scholarship, and significance. T h e chapters dealing w i t h trading, t o u r i s m , m o v i e m a k i n g and transportation technologies are very enjoyable to read, largely because of the wide variety of perspectives and anecdotes offered through oral accounts. McPherson's considerations of agriculture and hunting seem more weighty. The failure of Utah Navajos and the federal government to tame the San Juan River for agricultural benefit is explained, as is the importance of government farmers in influencing cultural change in that region. Overhunting of deer in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries is shown to be the result not simply of Navajo adaptations to the cash economy, but also of a variety of external factors over which the Navajos had little or no control. McPherson also explains that Navajo hunters were less concerned with conservation, as understood in a non-Indian context, than with following proper traditions and rituals. T h e most notable chapters are those dealing with livestock reduction, oil development, and uranium mining. Naturally, given the pain associated with those issues and the importance of herding and mineral development to the Navajo economy, these topics are very significant. Many scholars have previously written about these subjects, but rarely has the misery of the livestock reduction period or the negative consequences of mineral development been made so comprehensible to readers. McPherson includes oral accounts to describe the carnage, pain, and local hatred of the tribal and federal governments induced by livestock reduction. H e

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also explains h o w frustrating it has been for Utah Navajos to produce a large portion of the tribe's uranium and oil wealth, and thereby have to deal with the often deadly consequences, without reaping their share of the profits. Although McPherson deserves credit for the effort and time expended to incorporate dozens of personal interviews with Navajo residents in Utah, this book also demonstrates some of the difficulties scholars face incorporating oral history. McPherson normally shows great sensitivity toward the people he interviewed and their perspectives, but they sometimes seem objectified. For instance, in a chapter discussing changing economic and social roles for Navajo w o m e n , the a u t h o r categorizes w o m e n he interviewed as "progressive," older traditional ("Dezba"), or younger traditional ("Johns"). Given how complex people are, such generalizations seem inappropriate for scholars, even if some of the people interviewed are willing to stereotype others. Nevertheless, this book stands out because it uses oral sources in a more than supplementary manner. By spending many years actually discussing these important issues with the people about w h o m he is writing, McPherson has created an important piece of scholarship. WADE DAVIES San Juan College Farmington, New Mexico

Utah's Lawless Fringe: Stories of True Crime Edited by Stanford J. Layton (Salt Lake City: Signature Books, 2001. Iii + 251 pp. Paper, $18.95.) T H E IDEA T O R E P U B L I S H A R T I C L E S from the Utah Historical Quarterly and group them in appropriate topics is well demonstrated in this book. There is a vast and exciting history that can be traced t h r o u g h the stories of crimes, legal issues and common law in the State of Utah. Stanford Layton has done an excellent j o b of assembling articles that exemplify these issues and this historical period of time. From the "unwritten law" that allowed wronged husbands to avenge their " h o n o r " to the operation of a "red light" district within the shadows of downtown Salt Lake City, these articles and their authors provide an o p p o r t u n i t y for readers, within one v o l u m e , to e x a m i n e c r u c i a l issues of p u b l i c , p r i v a t e , and institutional morality and values. Utah has a unique history—socially, legally, and religiously. This uniqueness is well highlighted by these articles. From Kenneth L.

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Cannon's article on the "extralegal" punishment of wronged husbands through the review of law enforcement and lawmen, the reader is given an overview of the legal machinery in operation during the early history of the state. T h e n , specific crimes and criminals are discussed by Dean Garrett, David L. Buhler and Craig L. Foster. These examples provide insight into the workings of the system as well as to the social/cultural conditions and attitudes common among the people of Utah at that time. Also included are the failures when lynchings represented the frustration of the citizens and pointed to the racial/ethnic suspicion and bias inherent within the state. Additionally, spurts of reformation and societal change are traced through efforts to deal with prostitution, alcohol and tobacco. In conclusion, the efforts of the state to deal with prisoners and juvenile offenders provide a foundation for understanding the origins of our present system and efforts at incarceration and rehabilitation. While Layton presents these selections as some of his favorites, they are significant for their representation of early conditions in the State of Utah regarding attitudes towards law, crime, and criminals. This compilation is a wonderful addition, in one volume, for those interested in these conditions, specifically, and in the history of the state in general. KAY GILLESPIE Weber State University

BOOK NOTICES Angels of Darkness: A Drama in Three Acts By Arthur Conan Doyle. Edited and with an introduction by Peter Blau (New York: Baker Street Irregulars in cooperation with the Toronto Public Library, 2001. x + 191 pp. $35.00.) A facsimile of an unfinished play by the creator of Sherlock Holmes and five scholarly essays comprise this volume. T h e play closely resembles Arthur Conan Doyle's novel A Study in Scarlet, and an essay by Utahn Michael H o m e r explores the M o r m o n subplot—centered around fiendish Danite deeds— in both. H o m e r describes the literary, Masonic, and Spiritualist sources that influenced these works. H e also details Doyle's first visit to Utah some forty years after

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writing the novel and play (and the crowd that, despite his negative writings about Mormonism, filled the Tabernacle to hear him speak), his belief in Spiritualism, and his growing appreciation of Mormonism's similarity to Spiritualism and of Joseph Smith's abilities as a medium.

When Montana and I Were Young: A Frontier Childhood

By Margaret Bell. Edited

and with an introduction by Mary Clearman Blew (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2002. xxxii + 253 pp. $24.95.) A box of papers found in a garage turned out to be a remarkable memoir of an unusual childhood. In the care of a sadistic and shiftless stepfather, young Peggy did a man's work, acquired great skill at ranching and horsemanship, and endured horrific abuse.Yet instead of playing the victim, she "learned to take the blows without collapsing" (242) and grew tough, eventually breaking free and creating the life she wanted. As an adult in the 1940s she tried to get her vivid narrative published, but that had to wait until the manuscript's rediscovery. Its appearance now is a victory for those who struggle to let the female voice, too often silenced, be heard.

Newe Hupia: Shoshoni Poetry Songs By Beverly Crum, Earl Crum, and Jon P. Dayley (Logan: Utah State University Press, 2001. xii + 276 pp. Paper, $24.95.) T h e songs in this volume celebrate centuries of the Shoshoni h u n t i n g / g a t h e r i n g lifeway in the Great Basin. Included are an introduction, Shoshoni and English versions, comments on each song, photos, a CD, and a glossary. These are spare poems: "Little dark gosling, / Little dark gosling / White wings at its side, / White, in the red water, / Fluttering. / White wings at its side, / White, in the red water, / Fluttering." T h e editors compare the songs to minimalist writing or haiku and point out that their power lies in helping the listener pay attention to the world, in "making the familiar vivid and alive" (1). However, to the Shoshoni who consider almost all aspects of the natural world as sacred, their power lies further; one of the traditional functions of the songs is to invoke puha, or supernatural power.

382


BOOK NOTICES

River Runners'

Guide to Utah and Adjacent Areas By Gary C. Nichols (Salt Lake

City: University of Utah Press, 2002. 206 pp. Paper, $16.95.) Utah's rivers, so central to its past and present, are here described from an on-the-water perspective. Both beginner and expert paddlers can use this reference to learn of dozens of river trips, difficulty ratings, access points, and particular dangers and obstacles.

Magnificent Failure: A Portrait of the Western Homestead Era By John Martin Campbell, with an introduction by Kenneth WL Karsmizki (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2001. xiv + 183 pp. $29.95.) Speaking about his family's homestead in N e w Mexico, the anthropologist Jesse Jennings once told the author/photographer, "Campbell, when we arrived on that place, we came in two big wagons, each pulled by a four-horse team. And -when -we left that place, we walked" (32).Those who made a success of their homesteads were a minority; some five million of the seven million men, women, and children who took up homesteads failed, in large part because the system did not take into account the dry nature of the West. T h e photos of homestead landscapes on these pages—structures, implements, fields, haystacks—speak of the -work, hopes, and drought-battered lives of thousands of families.

Tough Times in Rough Places: Personal Narratives ofAdventure, Death, and Survival on the Western Frontier Edited by Neil B. Carmony and David E. Brown (Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, 2001. 304 pp. Paper, $14.95.) Some of the great legends of the West inhabit these fifteen, mostly firsthand, narratives. Custer, the Donner Party, Fremont, Billy the Kid, Pancho Villa, Geronimo, and more are here. John D. Lee gives his "Confession" again, and James White gives his account of his voyage on a lashed-together log raft down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. Little-known people and stories add balance to the "legends." T h e editors introduce each account, but do not analyze. Instead, they caution the reader to understand and allow for bias in the fact that participants, not objective observers or researchers, tell these adventurous stories.

383


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

GhostWest:

Reflections Past and Present By Ann Ronald (Norman: University of

Oklahoma Press, 2002. 256 pp. $29.95.) History " h a u n t s " the present. Beneath the surface of today lie events, people, and stories in intermingled layers. Here, Ann Ronald writes about places that are pregnant w i t h these unseen stories: M o u n t R u s h m o r e , Glen Canyon, Death Valley, Tucson, and R e d Cloud, to name a few. She writes about the interpretations we give these places n o w and h o w the past b o t h remains obscure and affects our understandings.

384


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

2,002, INDEX Italic numbers refer to illustrations

A Adamson, Dougal, and Alexander, aids sister Agnes to immigrate, 303 Agriculture, in Cache Valley, 110 Aho, Mary Ann and Mat, Finnish immigrants, 133 Alsberg, Henry, directory of Federal Writers Project, 24, 25, 28 Alta, 344; avalanches at, 348-49, 350; Club, and Utah guidebook, 37 American Smelting and Refining Company (ASARCO), 243-44 Andelex Resources, Dutch Energy Company, 356,371 Anderson, George E., photo by, 140 Anderson, Nels, writer for Utah Guidebook, 33 Anderson, Sherwood, author, 48, 50 Andrew Frederick, 321 Andrus, Sharon Adair, ice-skater, 333, 338; and Calvin, ice-skater, 339 Angrogna, Italy, LDS church branch, 202 Antelope Island (Church Island), 204-06 Apex Suction Cleaner, advertisement, 262 Apportionment, legislative and rural-urban balance, 88 Arapeen, Ute Indian Chief and brother to ChiefWakara, 225; ordained to LDS church priesthood, 231 Arrington, Leonard, historian, analysis of Japanese-Americans W W II, 5, 20 Arsenal Island (St. Louis, Missouri), immigrant inspection site, 202 Atwater, Monty, snow ranger, 346, 349-50, 351, 351; and Capt. Elkins and Felix Koziol, 352 Austin, John F, founder of Progress Company, 241 Avalanche, control of, 350-51; school, 352, 352-53

B Baker, Gib, Cornish baseball player, 117 Ballard, Melvin J., LDS Apostle, 51 Barlocker, William, St. George mayor, 89-90 Baseball, 106, 108; in Cache Valley, 108-22 Bennion and Sons flour mill, 245 Benow, Johnny, Southern Ute Indian, 264 Bent, Miss, Winter Quarters, Utah, relief worker, 137 Berg, Herman, and Kann, Finnish

immigrants, 126 Berger, Gottlieb, Murray City socialist party commissioner, 247; 248; purchase of Progress Company, 256 Bertoch, Antoinette, 196, 201; on Antelope Island, 206; marriage to Louis Chapuis, 209 Bertoch, Daniel, 196, Italian military deferment of, 201; immigration, 202; on Antelope Island, 206, 207, 208-09, and Salt Lake LDS Temple, 207; marriages to Elva Hampton, and Sarah Ann Richards, 210-11; land claimed by, 212 Bertoch,Jacques (James), 196, immigration of, 202, 203; on Antelope Island, 206; nickname, "Jack Toronto," 209; in Utah War, 210 Bertoch, James, marriage to Ann Cutcliffe, 211; family of 211 Bertoch, Jean, Waldensian LDS church convert, 200-01; immigration of, 202, 207-08; death of, 203 Bertoch (Bounous), Marguerite, marriage to Jean, 201; death of, 203 Betterson, Harry, rescued coalminer, 146 Big Cottonwood Power Company, 242 Bingham, Nancy Karren, baseball fan, 115-16 Bird, Johnny, and Lujean Jensen, ice-skaters, 331 Blackburn, Robert, teenage coaster, 332 Blood, Henry, Utah governor, 44 Bowen, Don, BYU student opposed bigotry, 7 Bowler, Truman, leader in "Dixie" development, 82 Bowman, John H , Navajo Indian agent, 276 Bramwell, Dee, director Utah Historical Records Survey, 26, 31, 33 Brigham Young University, and Nisei students during W W I I , 6-10 Brighton, 346-47; ice-skaters at, 330; chairlift at, 298 Brinton, D Branson, electrical engineer, 250; Progress Company manager, 250-51 Brinton Electric Company 251; 251 Brook, Ute Indian, 262 Brown, John, New Orleans agent, 315-16 Bruhn, Arthur, leader in "Dixie" development, 82, 83 Burton, Laurence J., U.S. Congressman and supporter of Dixie Water project, 85 Buxton, Helen, Cornish baseball fan, 119; and Verl M., Cornish baseball player, 111, 115

385


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

Cache County, baseball in, 108-22 Cahoon family, 241 Cahoon, Chester P., son of John P., 241; electric lights, 253; seller of Progress Company, 256 Cahoon, James W , Progress Company president, 241 Cahoon, John P., interest, in Murray Opera House, 240; and in Progress Company, 241; and in Salt Lake Pressed Brick Company, 246-47; and in Millcreek Power Company, 247 Cahoon, Reynolds, interest in Progress Company, 241 Cameron, Frank, Castle Gate Mine supt., 140, 144,147 Camp, Oscari, and Anna, Finnish boardinghouse owners, 129 Campbell, Robert L., Mormon immigration company, 203 Cannon, Brian, historian, 47, 55 Carbon County: mining in, 46-50, 123-57; mine accidents in, 123-57; coal mine explosions in, 64-74 Cardon, Marie, Italian LDS church convert and wife to Philippe, 202 Cardon, Philippe, Italian LDS church convert, 202 Carlisle, Harold, San Juan County rancher, 266 Carson, Kit, explored Antelope Island, 205 Castle Gate mine explosion, 63-74 Census, U. S.: mortality records in 161-63; infant mortality, 166-167 Children, deaths of, 158-75 Cholera, 321 Christensen, Ivan, baseball player, 116, 120 Christiansen, Delia, Escalante resident, 61 Church ofJesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and attitudes towards JapaneseAmericans, 9,10; and Utah Writers' Project, 32, 33, 36 Civilian Conservation Corps, 344-346 Claridge, Samuel, Mormon emigrant, 312313 Clark, William H., Southern Ute Indian agent, 277 Coasting (sleigh riding), 299, 326; in Ogden, 329; accidents in Salt Lake City, 329-31; lanes in Salt Lake City, 330-31, 332; in Park City, 333 Colorado River Storage Project (CRSP),

386

356-57 Cooper, Ed, Murray ice-skater, 337 Cornaby, Hannah, Ten-pound emigrant, 316, 319 Cornish baseball team, 114 Coulthard, William, coalmine expert, 131 Cowles, Leroy, University of Utah president, 10-12,14-15 Cox, Leigh, Lund resident and ice-skater, 336 Crossland, Junius, death of, 320

D Dahle, Wanda, teenage ice-skater, 338 Davis, Dennis, chairman Brigerland Audubon Society, 364 Davisjohn,Welsh LDS emigrant, 308, 313, 314,319,320 Davis, William R., coalminer, 132 Decker, Jean, ice-skater at Decker Lake, 338 Delores News (Colorado), description of Indian fight at Soldier Crossing, 275-76 Depression, Great, Utah Writers' Project during, 21-38; FSA photographers, 40-62; in Utah's "Dixie," 77-80 Derry, Charles, Ten-pound emigrant, 304, 313 Dilley, James W , Scofield school principal and town clerk, 145 Disease, infant and childhood, 163-164, 167n28,168-69,171-73 "Dixie," Utah's development in, 75-91 Dixie College: transfer from LDS church to state, 78-79; proposed closure of, 86-87 Dixon, Maynard, painter and husband of Dorothea Lange, 41, 60n77 Doyle, Zane,T-bar ski lift operator, 347

Echo Park Dam, 356, 357 Education: higher, proposed college closure, 78-79, 86-87; Board of Regents formation of, 87-88 Eldredge, Horace, Mormon emigrant agent, 314-15,322 Electric power generation, 356-371 Elk Ridge, 272 Emigration,Ten-and Thirteen-pound plans, 306-07, 308-09, 313, 323; demise of plans 324 Empey, William, Mormon frontier agent, 315, 316,321-22 Engen, Severre, Forest Service snow ranger, 349, 350 Environmentalism, 356-371


INDEX

Erekson, James Theodore, electricity in home, 253 Evans, S. D , undertaker, 135 Eynon,T. F, coalminer, 131

F Federal programs: WPA and Utah Writers Project, 21-28; Historical Records Survey, 22, 26, 30-31, 33; Farm Security Administration and Resettlement Act, 4062 Ferrin, Arnold, University of Utah basketball player, 13 Finns:Winter Quarters mine explosion, 12339: sauna, 129,129-130,151 Fisher,Vardis, Idaho Writers Project director, 24-25,27-28,33 Fisher, Virlis, L., member of Outdoors Unlimited, 364 Flexible Flyer, 328, 329 Flyin, 334 Forrester, Robert, territorial mine inspector, 141-42,147,149 Forsdick, Stephen, Ten-pound emigrant, 30708,310,311,314,318,320 Fort Utah engagement, 227 Fossat, Bill, and Albert, Castle Gate mine explosion, 63 Fowler, Delbert, teenage coaster, 328, 332, 333 Francaviglia, Richard, historical geographer, 60 Fremont, John C , explored Fremont Island, 205; meets Wakara, 218 Frontier agents: John Brown, 316; Horace Eldredge, 325, William Empey, 315, 316, 321-22, Isaac Haight, 315, 316, 318, 319; Appleton Harmon, 317; Joseph WYoung, 319 Fuller, Glenn, teenage coaster, 332; and Sherm, teenage hooky bobber, 340 Funatake, George Japanese American student at Brigham Young University, 7-8,10

G Garfield County:Widtsoe resettlement, 5 1 57, 2, 39, 52, 54; Escalante, 57-62, 58, 59, 60 Garn, Jake, Utah Senator, 368 Garr, Fielding, lived on Antelope Island, 205 Garrett, Ruby, director WPA's women's professional projects, 35, 35 Gathering of LDS church members, 301-02

Glazier, Claude, Kanab mayor, 370 Godfrey, Kenneth, baseball, 108, 115,119, 121 Golf, in "Dixie," 84, 90 Gould, William R., Southern California Edison official, 366, 361, 369-70 Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument, 356 Granholm, A. (Rev), Finnish clergyman, 13435 Grant, Heber J., LDS church president, 84 Greaves, Joseph,Ten-pound emigrant, 305, 315-16,319 Greenwell, Darrell, Utah WPA administrator, 27-28,30-31,35

H Hafen, John, Orval's father, and frugality, 80 Hafen, Orval, 15; state senator and civic leader and promoter of St. George area, 75-91 Hafen, R u t h Clark, wife of Orval, 78, 80, 86 Haight, Isaac C , Mormon frontier agent, 316, 318-19, 318 Hall, Anthony, and baseball, 111,115,116, 118,119,120,121 Hamson, Alvin, and baseball, 117 Hansen, Byron, and baseball, 118 Hansen, Mat, Finnish coalminer, 128 Hansen, RichardV, and baseball, 113-14, 119, 120,121 Harada, Calvin, prospective Brigham Young University student, 6-7 Harmon, Appleton, Mormon frontier agent, 317 Harris, Franklin S., Brigham Young University president, 6, 6-7, 9, 17-18 Harris, John, Finnish boarder, 129 Hawes, Greg W , businessman and ice-skater, 337 Haynes, Harry, Murray businessman, 240; stockholder in Progress Company, 241 Higgins, James "Rowdy," cowboy and pursuer of Southern Utes, 269-70, death of, 271; burial location, 281 Hinckley, Stephen, and baseball, 118 Hodges, Henry, and baseball, 120 Homer, Michael W , writings, 200 n l 5 Homestead Act, 211-12 Howard, Paul, Bureau of Land Management state director, 364 Howe, Maurice, Utah Guidebook and Federal Writers Project editor, 22, 22-23, 25-28, 30,33,34

387


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

Howell, Joyce, and baseball, 116 Howell, Wade, and baseball, 115,117, 119 Hoyt, Ellen Meeks, midwife, 164 Hudson, Joshua "Spud," San Juan County cowboy, 262 Hunter, George, Writers' Project publicist, 37 Huntington, Dimick, 220 Huscher, George A., Murray socialist mayor, 241,248

Ice-skaters, Fall cover, 299 Ice-skating: in Uintah County, 334; in Beaver County, 335; in Box Elder County, 334, 339; in Davis County, 334; in Daggett County, 333-34; in Iron County, 336; in Millard County, 334; in Morgan County, 335; in Rich County, 336-37; in Salt Lake County, 334-35; in Utah County, 335; in Wasatch County, 338 Ignacio, Southern Ute Indian chief, 265 Immigration, of Finns, 123-28; of LDS members, 298-99, 300-325; Brigham Young on, 300; statistics, 302 Indians, slaves, 218; New Mexican slave trade of,233-34 International, 305 Ishihara, Roy, Japanese American student, University of Utah, 13-15 Italians, immigration to Utah, 197-98 Ivins, Anthony, St. George mayor, 84

J Jackson, William Henry, photographer, Winter cover, 39-40 Japanese Americans, student relocation program, 4-20 Jarvis, Brigham, and St. George Water development, 84-85 Jenkins, Ab, Salt Lake City mayor, 36 Jenkins, James, coalminer, 131 Jenson, Andrew, LDS church historian on emigrants, 322 Johnson, Edgar, coalmine hoist operator, 47n.33

K Kaiparowits: Plateau, 357-58; Power Project, 356, 357, 358, 359; generation station, 359; air pollution at, 366 Kansas and New Mexico Land and Cattle Company, 259 Karchner, Felice, 9

388

Karren, Farrell, baseball player, 118, 121 Kato, Jacks S., 9 Kelley, Charles, printer and amateur historian, 25 Keokuk, Iowa, 315 Kerr, Walter A., bobsleigh rider and coaster, 327,329 Kimball, Heber P., explored Antelope Island, 205 Kimball, O. G , head of mine disaster relief committee, 138 Kimball, Quincy, Widtsoe resident, 52 King, Romola, 9 Kleimola, Mary, Finnish widow and family, 138 Knight Consolidated Power Company, 246 Knowlton,Virginia, 9 Kohler, Wallace, and baseball, 110, 116, 120, 121 Korpi, Mary and John, Finnish boardinghouse proprietor, 129 Koski, Andrew and Hilma, Finns and family, 127 Koski, Ida, Finn and coal mining widow, 138 Koski, Mat, Finnish coalminer, 128 Koziol, Felix O , 343; US Forest supervisor, 343-44, 345,346, 347, 348, 349, 352 KrepsJ. E, Lt., U.S. Army, 260 Kuraya, Benjamin S., 9

LaChappelle, Ed, glaciologist and physicist, 351-52,354 Lakso,Voluntine, Finnish coalminer, 129 Lange, Dorothea, and Utah depression 2, 3, 29- 60 passim Las Vegas and post-war growth, 81, 82 Layton, Kathleen H., 9, and Stanford J., 298 LDS church First Presidency, Ninth General Epistle, 200, 201 Lee, Buck, 26 Lee, Clarence, Mr. & Mrs., 26 Lee, J. Bracken, Utah governor, and college closure proposal, 86-87 Lehto, Fred & Hannah, Finnish boardinghouse proprietors, 129 Lockett, Rube, cowboy posse member, 264 Lundberg, Neal, "Dixie" civic leader, 82 Luoma, Abram and Kaisa, and family, 123, 123-24, 128,133,134,139 Lusk, Adolf, wounded, 263 Lyman, Albert R., southern Utah historian, 258-59; "Big" (or "Old") Trail, 266,273-74


INDEX

Lyman, Platte D., Mormon diarist, 263

M Madsen, Charles, Utah guidebook writer and editor, 25-30,32, 26 Maki, Isaac, Finnish coalminer, 131,133 Maki,Vilhelmina and family, Finnish immigrants, 127-28 Mancos Jim, Southern Ute Indian, 271 Martin, Gail, Utah Institute of Fine Arts director, 35 May, Herbert, Utah governor, 16, 21, 35 McCarran, Pat, Nevada senator, 81 McConkey, Darel, Federal Writers' Project editor, 30-31, 33 McGrew, Joe, cowboy posse member, 273 McHugh, Frank M., Murray City physician and supporter of Murray City power project, 248-49 Medicine and heart, 164,172-73 Midwives, 164-65,172,173 Mikasa, Wat, Japanese American and University of Utah basketball player, 13 Military, W W II training at Utah State Agricultural College, 15-16, 18-19 Millennial Star, 301 Mining, coal: conditions in camps, 45-50, 46, 48, 49, 50; Castle Gate explosion, 63-74, 64-14 passim, Winter Quarters Mine disaster, 123-57, 126; safety and regulations, 140-57 Mitchell, Henry L., Southern Utah settler, 259; store owner, 260 Morgan, Dale, historian and Utah Guidebook editor, 21, 30-38 Mormons: apostates, 307-08 baseball 11 In, 119; missionaries in Italy, 197, 199; converts, 197; immigration of, 202 Morris, Hannah Mary,Ten-pound emigrant, 311,320 Mortality, of infants, 158-75 Morton, Rogers C. B., secretary of interior, 362, 367, 368 Moss, Frank E., Utah senator, and Dixie Water Project, 85; supporter of KPP, 360, 369; supporter of Endangered Species Act, 363 Mulder, William, Utah immigration historian, 196-97 Murray City, utility poles, 246, hydroelectric plant, 249; power company agreement, 250

N Naegle, Rey, and baseball, 110,111,115, 119 Narraguinip, Southern Ute, 264 National Environmental Policy Act (NEPA), 362 Nelson, Carl, Erwin, teenage coaster, 328 Nelson, Knud, family and diphtheria, 163 Nelson, Lowry, sociologist, 57 Newspapers, coverage of Castle Gate mine explosion, 64-14 passim Nicholes, Joseph, Dixie College president, 76, 79 Nielson, Joseph H., Bluff cowboy, 262-63 Noland, Edgar Owen, owner Indian trading post, 260 Notarianni, Philip F, Utah immigration historian, 196-97 Nyman, Carl, and family, and baseball 117, 118 Nyman, Farres, and baseball 111, 116,117, 120,121 Nyman, Orvin, and baseball, 116

O O'Donnel, Mike, cowboy posse member, 274-75 Ogin, Helena, Finnish hired help, 129 O'Neil, Hugh, Utah Historical Records Survey editor, 31 O'Sullivan, Timothy, photographer, 39-40

Parmley, Dave, mine foreman, 47n33 Parmley, Henry, foreman Winter Quarters Mine, 156 Parmley,Thomas J., Winter Quarters Mine superintendent and LDS bishop, 133,134, 140,143,146,148,149,151 Parmley, William, foreman Winter Quarters, 143,147 Patten, Warren, Southern Ute Indian agent, 261; confers with Chief Ignacio, 265 Perpetual Emigrating Fund (PEF), 200, 202, 303-04 Perrine, Henry P., US Army captain, 264-65; tactical problems of, 271-72; Piute Pass debacle, 274-75, 278-79 Pesola, Leander and Ida, Finnish boardinghouse operators, 128 Peterson, Dorothy L., ice-skating in Memory Grove, 337-38 Peterson, Elmer G , Utah State Agricultural College president, 16,16-19

389


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

Peterson, F. Ross, historian, 110,120 Pitcher, Marcell, and baseball, 111, 112, 117, 118,119 Piute Pass, battle site, 270, 211, 212, 213; Indian trail over, 275; Southern Ute tactical position at, 278 Pons, Barthelemy, Mormon Italian convert, 202; death of, 203 Pons, Marianne, wife of Barthelemy and Mormon Italian convert, 202; death of, 203 Probst, Kay, "Shining" in Midway, 327; coasting, 329; skating in Midway, 338 Progress Company, 238; lawsuit, 245; expansion of, 255; line crew and truck, 256 Provo, residents, attitudes towards Japanese Americans, 10

Q Quinney, Joseph, businessman and founder of Alta Winter Sports Association, 344

R Railroads, Denver and Rio Grande Western, 144 Rampton, Calvin L., Utah governor, 361; supporter of KPP, 361,367 R e d Jacket, Southern Ute leader, 264 Redford, Robert, actor and environmentalist, 368 Richards, Clara B., sleigh riding, 327 Richards, Franklin, LDS mission president, 324; and Samuel, LDS mission president and emigrant agent, 304, 305, 306, 312, 314, 323 Richardson, Con, and baseball, 118 Richardson, Stan, and baseball, 115, 116, 118 Richardson, Vaughn, and baseball 112,114, 116-17 Ririe, James, LDS Scottish convert and Tenpound emigrant, 311, 316, 318, 319-20, 325 Robinson, Clayton, teenage ice-skater, 33637 Ruess, Everett, 57, 61n83 Ruthrauff, Charles C , arc lighting promoter, 239-40

St. George, 77; development efforts in, 77-82, 84-86, growth factors in, 90-91 Saint-Barthelemy LDS church branch, 202 Salt Lake Power, Lighting and Heating

390

Company, 239 Salvation Army, Castle Gate Mine explosion, 65 Sampling Mills, Pioneer, 243;Taylor and Brunton, 243 San Germono Chisone, Italy, illustration of, 200; LDS church branch in, 201 San Pitch Indians, spelling variations of, 223; difficult condition of, 234 Sato, Kazuo, Japanese American University of Utah student, 14 Savage, Charles, Utah photographer, 39 Seeholzer, Harold, ski enthusiast, 344-45 Sessions, Patty Bartlett, midwife, 164; and Perregrine, 306 Sharp, Hank, cowboy and confrontation with Southern Ute, 262 Sharp, William G , manager Pleasant Valley Coal Company, 138, 147 Shelmerdine, Marie Radcliffe, Ten-pound emigrant, 311, 318, 319, 320, 321 Shiozawa, Helen, Japanese American Brigham Young University student, 7, 10 Silverwood, Elizabeth, relief worker, Winter Quarters, 137 Singo,John and Mary, Finnish boardinghouse operators, 128, 130 Ski areas: Alta, 344; Beaver Mountain, 344-45; Snowbasin, 346; Wheeler Basin, 345 Sleigh riders, 328 Smelters: Germania, 243; Hanauer, 243; Conklin, 243; Pennsylvania (Mingo), 243 Smith, Elmer R., Brigham Young University professor, 11-12 Smith, Jesse Kimball K, ski enthusiast, 346, 347 Smith, Lot, living on Antelope Island, 205 Snow, George W , mining engineer, 149 Snow Lorenzo, LDS missionary to Italy, 199201 Snowbasin, chairlift, 341 Snyder, Christine, Danish immigrant, 39, 5556 Soffke, Christian, U S. army sergeant arrests Utes, 264 Soldier Crossing, map, 265; description of, 274 n47 Sore Leg, Southern Ute, 260 Sorensen, Hannah, physician and classes, 173 Southern California Edison, 356, 358, 359, 362, 364, 370-71 Southern Utah Exploring Expedition, 223; Parley P. Pratt a member of, 222


INDEX

Sowiette, Ute Chief ordained to LDS church priesthood, 231 Sprague, Dick, chemist and coal mine explosion, 136-37 Stairs hydroelectric power plant, 242 Stansbury, Howard, U. S. Army Topographical Engineer, 205 State parks, creation of commission, 88 Stegner, Wallace, author, 51, 325 Stevenson, Elizabeth B., bobsled rider, 327 Stryker, Roy, head Resettlement Administration historical section, 43-44, 62

Utah Population Database, 159-60,161,163, 165-67,169,171 Utah Power and Light, consolidation, 248; promoting electricity, 252 Utah State Agricultural College, exclusion of Nisei students, 15-20; military training at, 15-16,18-19 Utes, meeting with Shoshones, 235-36; horses, 217; life-style of, 217

V Viavant,June, Salt Lake City resident and Sierra Club board member, 370

w Taylor, Paul S., sociologist and husband of Dorothea Lange, 42, 52 Teller, H. M., secretary of the interior, 277 Ten-pound company account book, 321 Terry,William W,Weber County historian, 336 Thomas, Elbert D., U.S. senator, 9,15 Thomas, Gomer, state coal mine inspector, 131,132,135,136,140-57 Todd, Sam, biography of 261nl3; describes pursuit of Southern Utes, 268-69; ambush of Southern Utes, 270; attempts to retrieve bodies of Higgins and Wormington, 27273; sentry, 274 Tokoi family, Finnish immigrants, 126 Topine, Southern Ute Indian, 264 Toronto Cave, 210 Toronto, Joseph, 204; Mormon church convert, 204 Tracy, Peter, southeastern Utah rancher, 25960 Tugwell, Rexford, director Resettlement Administration, 42-43 Tumpanawach, Ute Indian band, 227 Tyler, Robert Clark, 26

u Unhoquitch, Ute Chief ordained to LDS church priesthood, 231 United States Forest Service, and Utah's ski industry, 341-355 University of Utah, 4, and Nisei students during W W II, 10-15 Uro, David, miner, 147 Utah: A Guide to the State, Winter Cover, 21; writing and publishing of, 21-38 Utah Copper Company, 214 Utah Institute of Fine Arts, 29, 35

Wakara, 215; description and spellings of, 216; Trail, 218; travels of, 219; relations with Mormons, 220-21, 224-25, 232-33; meeting with Brigham Young, 221-22; relations with Isaac Morley, 225; conversion to Mormon church, 226; Utah Lake parley, 228-29; meeting with George A. Smith, 230 Waldensians, 198-200 Wallace, Dave, critic of KPP, 369 Wartela,Jastina, Finnish hired help, 128 Wasatch Mountain Club, 342, 346 Washakie, Shoshone Chief, 236 Washington County, development efforts in, 75-91 Watanabe, Seichi, Japanese American Utah State Agricultural College and Brigham Young University student, 8, 10, 17-18 Water, development in "Dixie", 83-86 Watson, George, Alta mayor and ski enthusiast, 344 West, B. K , 2nd Lt. U.S. Army, 264 West, George, southern Utah cattleman and Soldier Crossing incident, 276 Westerdahl,John, Finnish miner, 129 Westport, Missouri, 323 Wheeler, Henry Joseph, Murray farmer and electricity consumer, 254 Wheeler, Sarah, designer ofWheeler Farm house, 254 White, Mrs. William, Winter Quarters relief - worker, 137 Widtsoe, Leah D , Utah educator, 252 n29 Widtsoe Resettlement Project, 2, 52; women of 39,51-57 Wiens, Delbert, University of Utah professor and KPP critic, 368-69 Wilkinson, Ernest, Brigham Young University

391


UTAH HISTORICAL QUARTERLY

president, 87 Williams, H. B., Clear Creek Mine superintendent, 140 Williams, H. G,Winter Quarters Mine assistant superintendent, 149,150 Wilson, Jack, and W. C. coalminers, 132-33 Wilson, Wayne, leader "Dixie" development, 82 Winter activities, 326-340 Winter Quarters Mine disaster, 123-57, Spring Cover, 125, 121, 128, 130, 131, 132,146, 148, 149, 150 Woodard, Jabey, LDS missionary in Italy, 201, 202 Woolley, Clyde E, ice-skater, 335 World War II, Japanese American students

during, 5-20 Wormington, Joe, civilian army scout, 26970; death of, 271; grave site of, 281

Young, Brigham, on gathering, 300, 305-06; on Fifteen-pound plan, 324 Young, Joseph W , Mormon frontier agent, 319

z Z C M I (Zions Cooperative Mercantile Institute), 240

Statement of Ownership, Management, and Circulation T h e Utah Historical Quarterly (ISSN 0042-143X) is published quarterly by the Utah State Historical Society, 300 R i o Grande, Salt Lake City, Utah 84101-1182. T h e editor is Wilson G. Martin and the managing editor is Allan Kent Powell with offices at the same address as the publisher. T h e magazine is owned by the Utah State Historical Society, and no individual or company owns or holds any bonds, mortgages, or other securities of the Society or its magazine. T h e folio-wing figures are the average n u m b e r of copies of each issue during the preceding twelve months: 3,259 copies printed; 16 dealer and counter sales, 2,730 mail subscriptions; 17 other classes mailed; 2,763 total paid circulation; 40 free distribution (including samples) by mail, carrier, or other means; 2,803 total distribution; 456 inventory for office use, leftover, unaccounted, spoiled after printing; total, 3,259. T h e following figures are the actual number of copies of the single issue published nearest to filing date: 3,159 copies printed; 10 dealer and counter sales; 2,749 mail subscriptions; 17 other classes mailed; 2,776 total paid circulation; 37 free distribution (including samples) by mail, carrier, or other means; 2,813 total distribution; 346 inventory for office use, leftover, unaccounted, spoiled after printing; total 3,159.

392


U T A H

STATE H I S T O R I C A L

SOCIETY

Department of Community and Economic Development Division of State History

B O A R D

OF STATE

H I S T O R Y

RICHARD W SADLER, Ogden, 2003, Chair PAM MILLER, Price, 2003, Vice Chair GARY N.ANDERSON, L o g a n , 2 0 0 5 PAUL ANDERSON, Salt Lake City, 2 0 0 3 KENDALL W BROWN, Provo, 2 0 0 5 MICHAEL W. HOMER, Salt Lake City, 2 0 0 5 KIM A. HYATT, B o u n t i f u l , 2 0 0 5 JOEL C.JANETSKI, Provo, 2 0 0 5 ROSS PETERSON, Logan, 2 0 0 3 PAUL D.WILLIAMS, Salt Lake City, 2 0 0 3 WALLY WRIGHT, Salt Lake City, 2 0 0 5

A D M I N I S T R A T I O N WILSON G. MARTIN, Acting Director PHILIP F. NOTARIANNI, Associate Director ALLAN KENT POWELL, Managing Editor KEVIN T.JONES, State Archaeologist

T h e Utah State Historical Society was organized in 1897 by public-spirited Utahns to collect, preserve, and publish Utah and related history. Today, under state sponsorship, the Society fulfills its obligations by publishing the Utah Historical Quarterly and other historical materials; collecting historic Utah artifacts; locating, documenting, and preserving historic and prehistoric buildings and sites; and maintaining a specialized research library. Donations and gifts to the Society's programs, museum, or its library are encouraged, for only through such means can it live up to its responsibility of preserving the record of Utah's past. This publication has been funded with the assistance of a matching grant-in-aid from the National Park Service, under provisions of the National Historic Preservation Act of 1966 as amended. This program receives financial assistance for identification and preservation of historic properties under Title VI of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act of 1973. The U. S. Department of the Interior prohibits unlawful discrimination on the basis of race, color, national origin, age, or handicap in its federally assisted programs. If you believe you have been discriminated against in any program, activity, or facility as described above, or if you desire further information, please write to: Office of Equal Opportunity, National Park Service, 1849 C Street, NW, Washington, D C , 20240.



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