Nelson Holder Ritchie

An edited history of Nelson Holder Ritchie (1840–1913), written in 1975 by a daughter, Grace Ritchie Ashton, when she was in her seventies. Nelson married as his second wife Annie Cowan Russell (1857–1950), and they were the parents of Olive Ellen Ritchie Cleverly (1881–1945), who was the mother of Ivard R Cleverly (1915–1988), who was my father.

In the year 1840, on August 24, Nelson Holder was born in Lawrence County, Missouri. He told us he was raised by an old Scotch lady, as his mother died when he was a baby and his father died before he was born. Nelson went to Topeka, Kansas, and met a John Ritchie, whom he lived with. The man loved Nelson and wanted to adopt him. Nelson said no, but that he would take his name—Ritchie—because he was so good to him. It was at the close of the Civil War, and Nelson got in on the last part of it. He was in the Cavalry and had a good horse. He had his hat with a few bullet holes in it, but he never was hurt. He was in his twenties at the time of the war.

He was a very good looking man over six feet tall, about 200 pounds, black curly hair, a good clean man. John Ritchie wanted to send Nelson to school, but I never remember why he did not go.

He later met a very lovely girl by the name of Mary Samantha Fullbright and married her about the year 1866. They had a son born in 1871, whom they named John Eddie. Father used to tell us about him. He was only a few weeks old and seemed to be looking at everything in the room. They had a pretty ceiling and he loved to look at that. His wife and baby both died in the year of 1871. Father told us children he always thought an old black Mammy poisoned them.

I don't know where he lived in Kansas at that time, but when our mother came into the picture he was in Great Bend, Kansas. Nelson had gathered around him a big business and was a rich man. He had a hotel and barns with many beautiful horses, and people worked for him. He took the U.S. mail to the trains every day and carried mail back to the town. He had a livery stable where he had horses and carriages for hire, or where people could leave their horses to be fed for a fixed charge. One time little Tom Thumb, who were dwarfs (or very small people), came and stayed at Father's hotel and had their horses taken care of. Tom Thumb was a man who knew what he wanted. He smoked a big cigar. They were cute little people.

It was now six years since Nelson's wife died. One day Nelson was over to St. John, about 25 miles away from Great Bend, visiting with friends named Kindle. There he met a very beautiful young woman who had come from Pennsylvania with a group of people for to build up Zion. William Bigerton was their leader. He was given the priesthood by Sidney Rigdon, who had been cut off The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Well, Nelson fell in love with Annie Russell, and Annie began to think he was a good catch, so she married him December 21, 1876. They lived in a cute pink house not far away from the hotel (I think this house was across the street from the hotel) in Great Bend. The town was on the bend of the river.

Annie soon had her people out there. Her father worked in the coal mines, and she had a brother, William or Billy, as he was called, who was killed in the mine. Her sisters worked in the hotel, and Annie helped with the cooking. They had a French cook, and Mother said she was a good one. One day just when breakfast was about ready, they had a fire. Mother and her sisters swept up the tablecloths with everything in them to save them. They soon had the fire out, but what a mess.

Their first son, Willie, was born December 31, 1877. When he was a year and a half old, he fell off the porch and broke his hip. Father took him to Topeka to a good doctor, but they did not know what was wrong. He died when he was six years old, and then they found out his hip was broken. They had three other children born before Willie died: Olive Ellen, Bertie, and James Alvie. Bertie was before Olive, and he died when he was about two years old. Father felt so bad, here Willie was sick and Bertie taken from them.

Now I must tell about Willie. Not long before his passing, he said to Father that he was going to die and asked him to let him go. Father said, "I can't let you go."

Willie had Mother take him all over the house and said to her, "Do you own this house?"

Mother said, "Yes."

Willie asked, "Do you have plenty to eat, such as pies and other good things to eat?" He was told they had plenty, then he said, "I want you to give my little dog to Grandma Dickens." They started to take the dog when he said, "Not yet." Then Willie told them he loved them both just the same. He still asked his father to let him go, and when Father told him he could go he soon passed away and was free of all the pain he had.

So now Nelson still had James Alvie, and he loved him dearly. He did everything he could for him. Nelson loved children, and they loved him. He was kind and loving to all. Father and Mother had eight children in Kansas: five girls and three boys.

One day May got lost in the high grass and could not find her way out. The whole town turned out to look for her, and when she was found she went to Father and cried saying, "You went right past me and never picked me up!" She was a very quiet child and never called out to her Papa. May and Father loved each other dearly, for when she married and was leaving for Mississippi, she could hardly pull herself away from him, and she said, "If I go away I shall never see you again." She cried, and her husband said, "Come on or we will miss the train." She had a baby a year later there. The baby died, and she died a week later. When the news came, we had to sit Father down, so we could tell him the sad news. A few weeks before this he had a dream and saw a fire coming very fast, and he told us he knew something was wrong. Father died less than ten months after in his sleep, but I have gone ahead of my story.

Father was very good to Mother's people. He helped them get on their feet, and most of them stayed in Kansas. Three sisters went to Kirtland, Ohio, in later years.

Another railroad was talking of coming through Great Bend, and the people wanted to buy Father out. They offered him $80,000 for his place, but Father said it was worth $100,000 to him. Well, they would not give him that. Mother tried to talk him into taking it, but he would not. A few years later another hotel came up in town, and Father spent a lot of money on his and had a man take charge, and before he knew it he had lost all his property. He was bankrupt and lost everything. The railroad never did go through, and the people of the town came to Father and said they were glad he never sold it, for it would have broken the town.

Father worried so much Mother was afraid to leave him alone. One day he told Mother he wanted to go to Old Mexico, and Mother said, "If you want to leave, let's go to Utah."

Why Utah? Well, I forgot to tell about the missionaries coming a while before all this happened. Elder William C. Mann and another elder (I never knew his name) came to see them. Father was a very generous and honest man and believed everyone was that way. These elders taught the gospel of Jesus Christ to them and the family accepted it. The elders stayed with him every time they came to Great Bend. Elder Mann lived in Bountiful, Utah. The name of Father's hotel was the Union Hotel. Over the side of his big barn was "Nelson H. Ritchie."

I must go back a bit. When Nelson wanted to go to war, he had a hard time to get in the service because he had some Cherokee Indian blood from his mother's side. The lady who took care of Nelson when he was young used to say, "You look just like old Vincent, your grandfather." He made it right at the last of the war, and he used to tell us about the boys singing in the camp. He loved to sing and lots of times in later years, when his grandchildren were left with him to be looked after, he would sing to them and they loved it.

Before they left Kansas, Father received a letter from the government telling him he could go to Oklahoma to take up 160 acres of land for each of his children, also himself and his wife. Father went down there to look it over, and when he came back he told Mother that that was no place to take a family to raise. I see now it was a blessing for us all to come to Utah where the Saints are and the House of the Lord.

Nelson and his family came to Utah in 1892 and went to Bountiful to live. They stayed with Elder Mann until they found a house in Centerville a mile away. Father worked for the railroad in Centerville as freight agent. At Centerville another boy was born, and he was named Nelson Holder. He was born October 16, 1893, and died March 19, 1896, in Bountiful and was laid away in Bountiful cemetery. Father was the first person to plant trees and flowers there, but the trees died because they lived too far away to water them.

While they lived in Centerville, Olive, their oldest daughter, had a very bad sickness. There was a pond across the tracks, and she went swimming when she should not. Old Dr. Stringham came to take care of her. At last he told Mother he had done all he could for her and it would be up to the priesthood to save her life. Father at the time was in Salt Lake City on business, and this is what he found when he came home. After the doctor left, Mother and Bessie were sitting watching her, when all at once Olive raised up in bed holding her hands out saying, "Willie, take me with you." Then she turned to Mother and said that Willie was there in the wall with a lot of roses beneath him and that he said she couldn't go with him for she had a lot of work to do here. Olive still cried out for Willie to take her, and then she saw a lady beneath him and said, "Who is that woman down there?" and he said that it was Papa's first wife and "she wants her temple work done."

When Father arrived home, he was told what had happened to Olive, and he could hardly believe it. He asked Olive how the woman was dressed, and Olive told him. Father said, "That is the way I laid her away." And then Olive told them that she asked Willie why this lady looked so sad, and Willie said, "She is not in as high a glory as I am."

The next day Olive opened the door for Dr. Stringham, and she did live a long good life and gave birth to 13 children. She raised all but one who died as a baby, and they all had families except for one son. Olive was a very spiritual-minded person all her life, and everybody loved her. She was kind to all she knew.

Three months and eleven days after Nelson Holder died, Mother had another child, a girl named Grace Samantha. She was born July 11, 1896, in Bountiful, Utah.

Father hurt himself lifting such heavy things that he had to give up the railroad job, and they moved to Beck Hot Springs or now North Salt Lake. We lived in a rock house, and Russell was born there Nov­ember 21, 1898. A month later Olive was married to Henry William Cleverly. She took me to live with them because Mother had this new baby and was not so well. I was going on three years old and lived with Olive until just before her first child was born, which was in November.

Father had a very hard time to keep things to eat, and he did everything he could. He even went up on the mountain to the old McNeil place to raise turkeys, and when they were ready for market someone beat him to it, and he lost them all. Someone stole them.

Then he took a lease on a fruit farm in Provo, now Orem. They made a little on that. I just remember going down there. That was before I went to school. Father came back to Salt Lake City and made a payment on a house just off south Second West south of 13th South. We had a big St. Bernard dog; he was a beauty. We had a lot of fun with him. He went out nights and killed sheep so we had to lose him. That was a hard time for all of us. Father had a little spring wagon and sold fruit and nearly every night when he came home the children came running to see what he had left and always received some little thing, apple or fruit. Father was good to all children. He was very tender hearted and would always say, "Let your mother take care of you" when we were bad.

Now about this time James Alvie could not get work, so he went in the Navy. Because he was under age, Mother and Father had to say they were willing to let him go. I can see my mother crying, and Father stayed out of the picture so he could not see him, as he felt so bad. Alvie left home for four years. He used to write and send $10 home to help pay for the house, but Father had a chance to trade for a place in the mouth of Parleys Canyon. When Alvie found we had moved, he would not send any more money to help out. Mother went to work to help make ends meet. Before we went to Parleys Canyon, Mother had a daughter born April 14, 1903, and she was named Elsie Virginia. She was about two years old when we moved there. Father farmed and raised chickens and pigs, and we had geese, dogs, and cats, a cow sometimes, a horse, and a ginnie, which we kids loved. She was good and kind, and we had some good times with her.

Russell was now about ten years old and a cute boy with light curly hair. One day Father took him to Salt Lake and told him he could look in the store windows till he got ready to come home. It was near to Christmastime, and while he was looking some well dressed lady came and talked with him and saw he was not dressed very well. She asked him where he lived and what his name was, and he told her. When Christmas morning came, you should have seen the lovely things they gave us—things to eat as well as books and toys.

They loved Russell. He was a sweet clean boy, and we used to play ball with our friends around where we lived. Father had a horse called Prince and a dog Bonce. That horse and dog knew how much he loved them, for they loved him. After we left the place and my sister Blanch and her family went to live there, the dog and horse walked away and never did come back again.

Father was a hard working man all his life and a good father and husband. One day I was a bad girl—I don’t remem­ber what I did—but anyway I ran and hid myself under some rose bushes, as we kids had a play house there, and there was an old quilt, and I laid down, and the first thing I knew I was fast asleep. When I came to myself, it was dark, and I kept thinking Father would soon come home, and I would go in the house. We had some geese that always made a big noise when Father came home, but there was no noise, so I began to be afraid a little while when Father let me in. I went to bed and was very sick, I guess from nerves. My mother did not whip me; I guess she felt sorry for me when I was so sick. And to think after Mother and Father had worked hard all day, I had them looking all over the place for me.

Mother worked hard all the time we lived in the canyon. As a little girl I never saw much of her—only at night. Father would say, "Girls, clean up the place so your mother can rest." He used to bring Mother an apple nearly all the time and say he was sorry he didn't have one for all. But we knew how he felt about Mother. Mother used to go to choir practice and take Esther and me with her. That is where I learned to sing all our beautiful songs.

May, my sister, came third in winning a piano, and she paid $250 for it. That was in about 1910. (Today, 1975, I have the piano after all those years.) My father loved music and wished he could have had me take piano lessons. I got a keyboard that helped a lot and could play a little, and I started to learn "Oh, My Father," a song my father loved. Well, after he passed away I learned it, and I feel like I am playing it for him.

Mother loved to read, and she read to us children, which made me read and want to know things for myself. She also taught us to pray. Father was a great man of faith, and he would have us pray, and he prayed always. When Father and Mother were married, he said, "Let's quit drinking coffee and tea and other drinks that we know are not good for us or our children." And they did, and Father always wanted us children to be good and live clean. I remember Mother telling us that in Great Bend a man was going to hang. Father was getting ready to go out with the rest of the town. While he was getting ready, Mother was also, and he asked where she was going.

She said, "With you."

Father said, "Oh, you can't do that."

And she said, "Well, if you go, so do I."

So Father said he wouldn't go, and years later he was happy he never had a part in the hanging.

Father always called my mother Dove. I never heard him call her Annie. It was always Dove or "your mother." He loved her dearly. We always called him Papa. To let you know what kind of man he was, he was going to dig a well and Mother asked him when he was going to do it so we wouldn't have to pack water from the creek or go up the hill to get it. Well, he said that he had changed his mind because if he dug it there then the man up on the hill wouldn't have any water. That was the way he was, always thinking about the other fellow.

I remember when we moved we only had two rooms, and there was a nice shed which with a little help could be put up to the house and give us three more rooms. Father had the shed up to the house, and he needed some strong arm to put it where it belonged. So one day a young man came to Father and said, "I see you need some help," and Father told him that he did, so the man helped him put it in place. The man gave Mother a book and told her to read it, but we were all messed up at the time, and she did not read it. When the man left and things began to look better, she remembered the book but never found it. She never did know what was in it. We always felt like he was sent to help us, as we needed it so badly because all of us children were just little kids at the time. It could have been one of the Three Nephites. As far as I know, my father never turned anyone away who asked for help.

It was in the wintertime and very cold when a man came and asked to stay all night, as he was going to Park City. Father did not like the looks of him, but he took him in and gave him something to eat and made a bed in own bedroom in front of the big fireplace with a fire in it. Father never slept that night for watching that man and the next morning sent him on his way.

Mother, May, and Elsie went to Kansas to see her mother, Elizabeth Householder Russell. Esther, Russell, and Grace were with Father. At this time a big circus was in town, and I wanted to see it. I kept after Father to take us, and he was busy taking care of chickens and pigs. I had a wire in my hands that we could catch chickens with, and I hurt the dog's leg and made him howl. Father could not stand to see us hurt anything. He said, "No circus. When you learn to be good to all things, then I will be good to you."

When I was about seven or eight years old, Mother went to Liberty Park, not too far from where we lived. I wanted to go with her; she was with a lot of other ladies. Well, after she left I got my only dress on, which was red, and I had a little bucket with some bread in it and went to the park looking for Mother. I had all kinds of people asking me to eat with them, and I went from group to group but never did find Mother. By this time it began to get dark, and some people told me they better take me home, and did I know where I lived? I did, so we got nearly out of the park when here came my dear father in his spring wagon to find me. I called out to him, and he thanked the people who were looking out for me. I don't remember what Mother did to me, for I was gone all day (I bet I was dirty).

I was very sick, and Father had to stay away so he could work. He sent a big orange-colored rocking chair to our house, and the men set it half way from the street to our house. That was some chair. Father loved to sit in it.

Years after Father died, we had a nice experience with it. Elsie was about 14 or 15 years old, and some girl from Bountiful came to the house and wanted to go to the dance in Salt Lake. Mother and I said she was too young to go alone to the dance. Elsie began to cry and made a big fuss about it and said she was going, but we told the girl to go home because Elsie could not go. Elsie said she would break the windows and go anyway. Just about that time, this rocking chair began to rock with no one in it. Mother and I both knew Father was there in that chair, and it nearly frightened Elsie to death when she saw it. She settled down and was a much better girl after that. Elsie married on her 17th birthday and had 11 children, two girls who died and nine boys. (In October 1973 I asked Elsie if she remembered the chair rocking, and she said, "I will never forget it." She is now 70 years old.) This experience helped me to know we are very close to the spirit world, and those may be able to help when needed.

I was told in my blessing that I chose my parents before I was born in the world. I have seen my father in dreams telling me things I should do and not do. I saw him in a beautiful white robe. He used to go to church with us and loved to hear J. Golden Kimball speak.

We always went up to Olive and Will Cleverly's place for Thanksgiving dinner, and Father used to heat bricks for us to put our feet on in the wagon. His grandchildren, all who knew him, loved him. He had a way with him that you could not help like or love Nelson Holder Ritchie.

He received his patriarchal blessing on May 13, 1912, just eight months before he died. Nelson Holder Ritchie was 72 years and 5 months old when he died January 28, 1913. His first wife was Mary Samantha Fullbright. She died August 18, 1871. They had one son who died the same year, 1871. He lived in Great Bend, Kansas. At one time he was a very rich man. He married Annie Cowan Russell six years later. They had 12 children. They joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints about the year 1890 and came to Utah in 1892 or 1893 at the time the Salt Lake Temple was dedicated. Nelson was a very good, kind man and loved all men.

Father had cataracts and was in the hospital about two weeks to have them removed. He came home Thursday or Friday and went to the door and called to his horse, Prince, and the horse answered back. They sure did understand each other. Monday night I was reading The Wizard of Oz. It was so good I could not leave it alone and forgot what time it was. I was reading by an oil lamp when Father said, "Grace, go to bed. It's one o’clock."

I said, "All right," and in the morning when I got up at 7:00 a.m. to get ready for school, Mother said, "Girls, your father is dead." He must have passed on as he went to sleep, as he was laying on his back, and a ridge was right down the middle of the bed so that Mother did not touch him all night.

I must tell a few more things. James Alvie went in the Navy for four years. Father loved that boy, and while he had money to do for him he gave him everything. When Alvie went in the Navy and Father took the place in Parleys Canyon, Alvie got going with a fellow there who had it in hor his father, and I guess Jim got to thinking about how Father had never done for him after they came to Utah, so when he came home from the Navy he would not let Father see or talk to him. That was hard on Father because of the love he had for him. When we called Jim to tell him Father had died, he was the first one there and sat there for hours and went to the services and even paid the bill. James Alvie had not forgotten the love he had for Father. Years later one of Alvie's daughters did the same thing to him that he loved much, and when Alvie died Vinnie nearly died herself.

Someday if we all live good lives and repent of all our sins and do the work of the Lord, we will all have a chance to know our father and grandfather and be with him and know for ourselves what kind of a man he was, and our mother, Annie Cowan Russell Ritchie, will be right with him.
Here are the names of their children:

1. William Holder (Willie) was born December 31, 1877, in Great Bend, Kansas, and died March 15, 1884.

2. Bertie Elwood was born April 19, 1879, in Great Bend, Kansas, and died July 12, 1880.

3. Olive Ellen was born March 21, 1881, in Great Bend, Kansas. She married Henry William Cleverly, and they had 13 children, including two sets of twin boys. She died March 28, 1945.

4. James Alvie was born February 12, 1883, in Great Bend, Kansas. He married Millie Shulsen, and they had seven children. He died July 10, 1928.

5. Elizabeth (Bessie) was born November 17, 1884, in Great Bend, Kansas. She married Willis Rogers January 13, 1904, and they had ten children, of whom nine were boys and one a girl. They had one set of twin boys. She died February 10, 1970.

6. Annie May was born December 19, 1886, in Great Bend, Kansas. She married Ivard Rathborn, and they had only one child who died at birth. May died a week later on March 3, 1912.

7. Blanch was born January 12, 1889, in Great Bend, Kansas. She married Charles Edward Davidson, and they had four children. She died while expecting a fifth child on March 28, 1918.

8. Esther was born June 27, 1891, in Great Bend, Kansas. She married Orson Edwards, and they had three children. She died December 23, 1959.

9. Nelson Holder was born October 16, 1893, in Centerville, Utah, and died March 29, 1896.

10. Grace Samantha was born July 11, 1896, in Bountiful, Utah. She married Victor H. P. Gerhardt, and they had two daughters before they divorced. She married Bert Searle, and they had one daughter before they divorced. She married Orvis I. Mann, who died. And finally she married Wilford S. Ashton 23 years later. He was her old sweetheart.

11. Russell Dewey was born November 21, 1898, in Salt Lake City, Utah. He married Lois Elva Myers, and they had one son. Lois died in 1972, and he married Sylvia.

12. Elsie Virginia was born April 14, 1903, in Salt Lake City, Utah. She married Angus Leroy Olson, and they had six children before he died. She then married William Robert Langston, and they had five boys.

At the time of this writing, all of the family are gone except for the last three children—Grace, Russell, and Elsie—who are all in their seventies. There are many grandchildren and great-grandchildren, even to the fourth and fifth generations. So I don't know how many we have who belong to these wonderful people, Nelson Holder Ritchie and Annie Cowan Russell.

Just another little sweet thing Aldus, Blanch's young son, said when Father died he was about three years old. His father and mother lived with us at the time. He happened to get in the room where Father was layed out, and we did not know it. He came out with such big eyes and said, "Papa’s feet cold!" He loved his Papa so very much, as Father used to care for him and sing to him when he was baby-sitting.

We went up the canyon in Parleys, and the road was not very wide. We came to a very narrow place in the road, where we met another man on a load of logs. We tried to give him all the room we could so we would not go down in the ditch, but this load of logs tipped over, and the man, a Mr. Bullock, got his leg broken. Father did all he could to help him. I believe he even took him down to his home in Sugar House and helped him.

I remember when we had such a lot of pigs, and the meanest one got out of the pen. Before Father could get his pitchfork, the pig took after him. He turned to run and caught his foot in a wire and fell flat. Then Father called a dog we had by the name of Rover, and that is all that saved Father's life. It was not long after that he killed the pig, and we had a lot of good meat from him.

When the creek got high water, Father used to watch it, as the train to Park City crossed it. He stopped the train lots of times for them to see if it was safe to go over. He was always thinking of someone else.

When Father lived in Kansas he belonged to the Masons. I have an apron Father had, and it has the all-seeing eye and horn of plenty and birds and other things on a white hide of some kind with blue all around it, with an envelope piece across it, with a sash. Our father, as I was told, was a very high Mason in the order. Father told me when he first came to Utah and lived in Salt Lake City, he used to have his Mason pin on, and he got so many high signs of distress that he could not take care of them all, so he threw his pin away. I am sorry, I wish I had it with my apron.

This order came down from the time of Solomon's temple, and each man is to help his brother. That is why the Prophet Joseph Smith joined the Masons. Did they help him? No, they killed him and never lived up to their own teachings.

I have a picture, which was sent to me from our cousin, Earl Lynch. It is of our father's big barn in Great Bend, Kansas. It has "N. H. Ritchie" across the front, with horses and buggies and some men who worked for Father, and Father standing near a beautiful horse. I was very happy to get this picture. I am sorry it was late coming to me, as I did want Bessie to see it. But she was not able to.

We lived in Sugar House for a while because we lived so far away from the street car. May worked in the telephone company nights, so Father moved us down there so she would be close to the street car, and most of the time Father was up at the old place alone taking care of his chickens and pigs. May had an operation, and I remember Ivard, the man she later married, used to come and see her. That is the house we lived in when Alvie came home from the Navy and where he would not see Father. Well, he lived to regret it. No boy could have had a better father than we had. When he married his wife, Alvie's wife said that Alvie was like a baby name, and she called him Jim, as his name was James Alvie.

While we were in Sugar House, I wanted to go up to the old place and asked if I could take the horse and buggy and was told no. Well, I made up my mind I would go anyway, so out I went and got ready and started out the back way and only went about 200 feet when the horse fell down and broke the buggy, and I had to go back and ask Father to help. Well, he was not hard on me. He only said, "If you had listened, this would not have happened." I often think how kind and good Father was to us all.

He used to do express work. He always was on West Temple and Second South, and he picked up quite a bit of work that way. Someone asked him to bring something up on First Avenue, and I remember it was cold and ice on the streets. Old Prince could not go up that hill, so Father got out and placed sacks so the horse could walk up that hill. And that horse did just that, stepped on those sacks. Father was very good to everything he had on the place.

I can't remember Father ever being sick. I know when I was sick how good he and Mother were to me when I was about seven or eight years old.

Another thing I remember, the girls used to go to the Hadley place, not far away, to play cards with their children. That family were not the kind of people Father wanted his girls to be friends with, so one time Father came over to where they were playing cards and said for them to come home, and on the way home he said, "If you want to play cards, do it in our home." I don't remember their going there anymore.

Bessie was soon married, and May was going to school. Blanch was not a well girl but would never say anything and do the work. I just do remember this, but Father would help his children with the work because Mother was working also, and Father helped in the house so Mother could rest when she came home. Father felt bad because Mother had to work away from home to help the family, but Mother was always willing to do her part. But they both had a hard life after they came to Utah to make a living, as work was hard to get.

I thank God that they joined the Church and came to Utah.

When Father died, we had him home all the time. It was on January 28, 1913, very cold and icy, and we could hardly get up the grade, as we lived in a low place and had a small hill to climb, and the horses could hardly get up there. We went to Parleys Ward about a mile or so away, and that little church was so full no more could get in it. Sister Cook sang "Oh, My Father" and "Somewhere," and Uncle William C. Mann spoke, also Bishop Whitaker. I don’t remember who prayed. Then we took Father to Bountiful to his resting place, a place he bought in 1896 to lay away another little son. The lot was large enough for eight people, and right as you go in the graveyard, Nelson Holder, Mother, James Alvie, Esther, and my daughter Ruth, who got burned, and Father. He was always looking ahead to help others. Elsie gave us a little tree, and we planted it there, and now it is a beautiful, big tree. Mother also put a headstone. There is still room for two more, so I hope to be laid away there.

I had a dream a few years ago. I dreamed I was in a big room, and there were many children laughing and playing. As I stood looking around, I saw a door ahead of me, and a man came in with his hand over most of his face. And the thought went through my mind, "Is that my father?" Then he took his hand away, and it was Nelson Holder Ritchie, my father, in a beautiful white robe.

I ran over to him and put my arms around him and could feel his body and laughed and said how glad I was to see him. He smiled and said, "Come, meet my wife." As we walked the children were still having a wonderful time and were so happy. We came to where a lady sat, and she looked a lot like my sister Elsie, and Father said, "I want you to meet my daughter, Grace Ritchie."

She looked up at me and never said anything. We walked away and came to a table where Father was doing something there, and I said, "Father, let me do that."

He said, "Oh, I can do it," but I insisted, and he said, "Oh, I believe I will" and walked away. Then I awoke, and I did not remember what it was I was going to do for him. It has made me wonder, so I may have to humble myself and ask my Father in Heaven what it was I told him I would do.

I have often wondered if my father was already resur­rected, as I felt his body so vividly.

When we lived near Beck's Hot Springs (that is where Russell was born and where Olive was married), one night a man came to the door and asked for something to eat, and Mother and Father had him come in and set him up to the table. He thanked them for the food and left. After Mother had a feeling he was different. It was a beautiful clear moonlit night, and she asked Alvie to go out and see where that man went to. He did and walked all around and could not find him and came in and said he was nowhere to be seen. Then they felt they had a wonderful visitor at their home. He could have been one of the Three Nephites who was given the right to live till the Savior should come again on the earth.

Father always said it is better to help and feed all men than to turn one away, for we never know who we may have visit us. Angels unaware.

Mary Alexander Cleverly

An edited history of my great-grandmother Mary Alexander Cleverly (1828–1918), written by a grand­daughter, possibly Mary Louisa Cleverly Day, although there is no indication on the history itself of who the author is. The account was written sometime after Mary’s death in 1918. Mary was the mother of Henry William Cleverly (1870–1955), who was the father of Ivard R Cleverly (1915–1988).

Mary Alexander was born October 10, 1828, at Calne, Wiltshire, England, the daughter of Henry Alexander and Mary Dolman. Her childhood was spent much like other children. She told me she was taught to sew, cook, and knit, and she did a fine seam of sewing. She went to work when about twelve years old as a serving maid. She had a room to herself and said she liked the work. It paid well.

She had two sisters and four brothers, namely Sarah, Amelia, Enoch, Enos, Able, and Aaron.

She married James Cleverly, son of James Cleverly and Jane Bradford, at age 19 on November 4, 1847, at Calne, Wilt­shire, England.

When the missionaries were sent to England to preach the gospel, this good family attended the street meetings and soon began to study the scriptures. They joined the Church and then started to save for the journey to the United States to join the Saints in Utah. Grandmother was baptized in 1854.

Some of Mary's people had gone to New Zealand and others were going. Mary, her husband, and children were plan­ning on going there also. A daughter Ellen was married and set sail a few months later for America to join the Saints in Utah. She arrived in Utah in 1868. She wrote and said how lonely she was here without her people and described the country. Mary's two sons, Francis and Jesse, then came in the year 1868, a few months after their sister Ellen. By this time Grandma was more determined to come to Utah to be where her children were.

It wasn't until after the year 1871 they finally arrived in Utah. By this time she had given birth to eleven children. She knew happiness, sorrow, and the pangs of death. She buried a son just one year old. Her children: Francis, Ellen, Jesse, Worthy lived one year, Emma, Able, Herbert, Amelia Eliza­beth, Frederick, and finally twins, a boy and girl named Henry William and Sarah.

When the family came to Utah they used the Perpetual Emigration Fund, which was a loan from the Church to be paid back as arranged. The cost was $325.92 or 67 lbs and 18 shillings. Their daughter, Ellen Cleverly Salter, met them at the train, and they stayed with her until they got a place on the bottoms by the river, a shanty where they stayed the first winter. The family bought some land and built a big house, which they lived in for years before an addition was put on, being built of brick.

Mary's husband James was stricken with a typhoid fever, which nearly made him helpless. He was paralyzed for years. A daughter named Mary was born in May of 1875 and died in September 1875. This made Mary the mother the mother of 12 children. Grandmother had to work hard and take care of her invalid husband, six boys, and five girls. She had to be mother and father, and it was a big job. Her husband died in June 1879, and the twin daughter, sister to my father (William Cleverly), died in April 1879.

Grandmother was a good teacher to her children. She was very strict and had to be. She taught her children the gospel and lived it thoroughly. She was successful in that she never went in debt. Grandmother was just as strict with her grandchildren as she was with her own children. She taught us by the way she lived. It wasn’t hard to follow such a kind and patient woman. We knew when to play and when not to.

She died when she was 90 years old (on January 16, 1918) and left a posterity that will carry on her work as she would like it done.

Her youngest son, Henry William Cleverly, and his wife lived with her and took care of the farm. Grandmother was active until the last year before she died. About three years before her death I remember her saying that she would turn the work and responsibility over to my mother. Until then she was boss.

Grandma worked in Mutual, Relief Society, and was very faithful to her duties, walking many miles to do her duty. Mary used to walk to Salt Lake to sell her butter and bring back groceries. She would sell as much as 40 pounds sometimes. She was good to help the sick and had a good knowledge of how to care for sick people.

Her children lived close to where the house was. A daughter, Emma, married John David Yeiter and lived just north about two blocks. Ellen lived west of the place, the land of both places joining. Amelia Elizabeth married Stephen Henry Burtenshaw, and they moved to Idaho. In later years Aunt Bessie (or Amelia Elizabeth) married Alma Moss and lived south of her mother's place about four blocks. Her son Frederick married Elizabeth Wardle Matchit, and they lived on the northwest corner of the land. Her other sons lived in various places, Salt Lake City, West Bountiful, and then finally settled in Idaho. Francis or Frank married Sarah Jane Mills, Jesse married Mary Ann Burtenshaw, Able married Virginia Lowder, and Herbert married Elizabeth or Betsy Lowder.

Her sons and daughters came to visit with her often and brought her presents. They always took her advice when she gave it. Grandmother did a lot of temple work for her people at the Logan Temple and Salt Lake Temple. She was about 5 feet 2 inches tall, had brown hair, blue eyes, and when she died she only had a few grey hairs. You could count them.

James Cleverly

An edited history of my great-grandfather James Cleverly (1824–1879), written in March 1951 by his granddaughter, Mary Louisa Cleverly Day. James was the father of Henry William Cleverly (1870–1955), who was the father of Ivard R Cleverly (1915–1988).

James Cleverly was born April 25, 1824, at Calne, Wiltshire, England, the third son of James Cleverly and Jane Bradford. He was reared the same as most children were at that time. His parents were farmers, and he had to help his father in the fields at an early age.

James married Mary Alexander, and to this union 12 children were born, 11 in England and one in Utah. Three of these children died when very young, and the rest lived to have children of their own.

When the missionaries were sent to England to preach the gospel, this good family attended some of the street meetings and before long had the missionaries in their home. James's wife, Mary, had joined the Church before he did and taught the gospel of Jesus Christ to her children. James and three of his children were baptized the same day, March 8, 1868.

Like his parents, James was also a farmer and was liked by the men he worked for. After he joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and was preparing to leave England, the men for whom he worked told him that if he didn't like it in America that they would send him money to come back. It took the family three years to get enough money to bring them to America. They used the Perpetual Emigration Fund also. This cost $325.92 or 67 pounds and 18 shillings to be paid back as prearranged.

The family left their home and went to Liverpool, where they sailed on the steamship Nevada, a 2,000-ton ship, on September 18, 1871, with 300 Saints, arriving at New York on November 1, 1871. The Cleverly family arrived in Salt Lake City on November 11, 1871. On the ship coming Grandfather and Grandmother would have the steward get hot water for their twin babies' bottles, and this would make the other women angry because they couldn't get the same service. James had provided his family with plenty of food for the journey, even had hams boiled. This food he gave to others less fortunate.

Leaving New York they came by train. James got off the train once on the way, and the train left without him. His wife and children made quite a fuss, but the conductor told them not to worry because the train would stop a few more miles further on, because a fast train would be due coming from the same direction and would bring her husband along. So it wasn't long before James was with them again.

Arriving at Salt Lake City, their daughter Ellen Cleverly Salter met them with wagon and oxen team. She had come to Utah nearly five years before. Everyone was afraid of the oxen, but they finally took courage and rode with Ellen to her place about seven miles north of Salt Lake City. They stayed with their daughter for a few months until James fixed a place near the river, where they moved and stayed the first winter in a new land. The home was just a shanty affair, and it was very cold, the water freezing in the teakettle.

James bought the old homestead of Japser Perkins and agreed to pay $1,000 in a year. He had to work hard. His two oldest sons—Francis, or Frank as he was called, and Jesse—had been there about three years, and they had a stove, a cow, and some wheat for flour, which helped out the family budget. James finally went to work at the brewery, and his wife saved every dollar he made. The chickens and cow kept them, along with vegetables grown in the garden. The children would cry sometimes for suet puddings and the foods they used to eat while in England.

When there was no work at the brewery, James and his sons would cut grass around the swamps for Ephraim Hatch and get half the grass. This James would sell to Fort Douglas and make money that way. By the time the year was up to make the payment for the place, James had the money. The house was just logs, but it was made comfortable. The locust trees that are in front of the house today are the same ones that were planted there by Jasper Perkins.

It wasn't long after James paid for the place, maybe a year or two, he took sick with typhoid fever. When he got over it, he was paralyzed from his hips down. He was then in a chair for several years. It was especially hard for him.

James died on June 21, 1879, just eight years after coming to Utah. Three of his children preceded him in death. They were Worthy, Mary, and Sarah. He left the following sons and daughters: Francis (or Frank), Ellen, Jesse, Emma, Able, Herbert, Amelia Elizabeth, Frederick (or Fred), and Henry William (a twin to Sarah). He was the father of seven sons and five daughters. At the time of his death, he left nine children and nine grandchildren. His posterity today [1951] would run into the hundreds.

Elizabeth Householder Russell

A history of Elizabeth Householder Russell (1834-1911), written in 1942 by Mary Louisa Cleverly Day (1901-1980), a great-granddaughter, and edited on March 10, 2009, by Dean B. Cleverly, a second-great-grandson.

Elizabeth Householder, daughter of Jonathan Householder and Evan Painter, was born January 11, 1834, at Armstrong County, Pennsylvania. Her mother died when she was twelve years old. She married James Russell on September 5, 1851, at West Elizabeth, Allegheny County, Pennsylvania, when she was seventeen years of age. Her eyes were gray, her hair brown, her health good. She was especially interested in her family.

Elizabeth and her husband came to Utah in 1861 with an independent company. Her father came at the same time. They settled in Weber Valley at Hoyts Mill. The Hoytsville settlement was in Summit County, just south of what is now Coalville. Elizabeth and James had five small children at the time. Three children were born to them under the poor living conditions in Weber Valley. A daughter was born the same year they arrived. A son died and was buried there.

Elizabeth didn't join the Church, but her husband did. She was very pious and very religious. She did not believe in dancing or reading of novels. Her children were allowed to read only the best reading materials. She taught her children to pray and to be honest, so honest that even if a pin were picked up it should be given back. She didn't think it right men should have more than one wife and couldn't understand the Mormon view of it. She was a good seamstress and taught her daughters to sew, knit, embroider, etc. When she finally owned a sewing machine she taught the girls to use it also. She had had schooling and in turn gave it to her children.

When anyone was in need of help you could always find Mrs. Russell there doing her part. A neighbor's small child got lost in the sagebrush soon after the family got to the valley. Mrs. Russell had her oldest daughter watch the children and went with her husband in search of the lost child. This hunt lasted a week, and she was there until they found the child, which had wandered until it got to the mountains.

The old cemetery near Coalville, which has been moved now, joined on to the farm the Russells had. The Weber River also joined their land.

She finally persuaded her husband to go back to Pennsylvania in 1866. She buried a son, James, at St. Joseph, Missouri. When they boy was sick he kept asking for chicken. Two of the children, Annie and William, were sent to buy a chicken. They went up one side of the street and back on the other, but no chicken was to be found or bought. A couple of days passed, and the two children heard a noise while playing in the yard and saw a flock of quail coming. The quail landed in the yard. William had a stick in his hand and hit three of the birds, killing them. The rest flew away, and the quail was used to make soup for the sick boy.

Four more children were born to her while living in Pennsylvania and Kansas. She moved from Pennsylvania over to Kansas when that land was being pioneered. They came back to Utah in 1889 and settled in Provo. She lived there until her husband died in 1893. She then went back to Kansas to be with her children, leaving one married daughter in Utah.

She was mother of twelve children and left a large posterity. She died of dropsy [an old term for the swelling of soft tissues caused by the accumulation of excess water, probably edema caused by congestive heart failure] at St. John, Kansas, November 24, 1911. She was 77 years old.

When this history was written in 1942, there were seven children living and enjoying health. Annie Russell Ritchie, my grandmother, was the oldest living at age 85, and Melzine at age 66 the youngest.

Orrin Strong Lee Jr and his parents

Some of my ancestors appear in the photograph above:

• Orrin Strong Lee (1835-1919), my great-great-grandfather, standing left

• Orrin Strong Lee Jr. (1862-1948), my great-grandfather, standing right

• Sally Ann Miles Lee (1843-1918), my great-great-grandmother, sitting center

Angels and ministers of grace

A funeral sermon I preached on Tuesday, December 28, 1993, at the funeral of my grandmother, Hazel Jane Lee Batt Pledger (1894–1993), who at her death on Christmas Eve in 1993 was in her 100th year of life. The talk was published in the Family Journal on November 20, 1995, the 101st anniversary of her birth. This talk is also found in chapter 26 of Batt & Lee Ancestors.

Last Friday morning, after learning that Hazel had passed away, I told our children that Grandma had died. Our ten-year-old Eliza, with wisdom far beyond her years, asked, "Is that good or bad?"

"Good," I replied. Very good, indeed. In fact, as I reflected further upon it, I could not think of a single reason why we would consider it bad. Grandma had gone home for Christmas.

Hazel Jane Lee was born November 20, 1894, in Milo, Bonneville County, Idaho, the sixth of eleven children born to Orrin Strong Lee Jr. and Martha Jane White. At the time Milo was known as Leorin, so named after her father or grandfather, both of whom were named Orrin Lee; before that the area was also known as Willow Creek.

Ten years earlier, in 1884, her parents, who had been married not quite two years, came in late November to eastern Idaho, still six years away from statehood. The young couple arrived in Eagle Rock (now Idaho Falls), having traveled for 11 days by wagon in cold, bleak weather. They spent the winter with Martha’s sister and her husband in the Willow Creek area.

The next spring they drove around the valley looking for suitable land and finally filed a homestead claim on 160 acres covered with heavy sagebrush growing in excellent soil. That first year they cleared only an acre and a half, on which they planted wheat and alfalfa. The first crop of wheat yielded sixty bushels to the acre.

Their first home was a one-room log cabin, which Orrin built with cottonwood logs he cut on the island east of Menan. As the family grew, Orrin added two rooms to their home. Later, the original log room was taken down and a two-story frame building added on to the two rooms. It was into this home that Hazel was born on November 20, 1894.

In 1906, at a cost of $7,000, the home was completely modernized, including a pressure water system and a telephone, one of the finest homes in the valley. Eighteen months later, on April 27, 1908, when Hazel was fourteen, a fire destroyed the home. I can remember Grandma's telling me about seeing the flames in the distance as she was returning home from school.

That summer Orrin's hair turned white. Discouraged, the family moved their few remaining belongings into the apple cellar and set about rebuilding the house.

Hazel’s mother did a lot of sewing for the neighbors because she had the only sewing machine in the area. She was an artist with a needle, crochet hook, and knitting needle. She was a master gardener and took much pride in her flowers and gardens. The Lee homestead had a fruit orchard, beautiful trees, shrubs, big lawns, flowers everywhere, and always a big vegetable garden whose produce was freely shared by all. From 1892 until 1910 she operated the Leorin post office out of their home. She was long involved in the work of Relief Society. For six years she served as a trustee of the local school district.

Is it any wonder Dorothy and Ruth and Bill and Berniece remember the things they do about their mother, as we've heard in these earlier tributes: her industry, her thrift, her insistence on a job well done, her devotion to duty.

In the years right before World War I, Hazel left the pastoral scenes of her childhood in eastern Idaho and went off to school to attend the Utah Agricultural College in Logan. There she met, became acquainted with, and fell in love with one of the stars of the football team, William B. Batt. They were married in the Logan Temple on October 8, 1914. The next year Dorothy was born, and only weeks later they were off to Idaho, where they would live in various locations throughout southeastern Idaho and northern Utah while Grandpa taught school. Ruth came the following year, 1916. Bill was born in 1921. And Berniece in 1923.

Jackie, as she read Dorothy's tribute, summarized in fine fashion the middle years of Grandma’s life—her severe illness during World War II that nearly cost her her life, her finishing her college degree, her teaching school in Idaho, her mission to New England, Grandpa’s death in the mission field on February 4, 1959, and the lonely years that followed after that.

And then Harry Pledger came into her life. On March 1, 1973, Hazel and Harry were married for time only in the Ogden Temple. Grandma had been a widow for fourteen years. She was 78 years old. They had a good decade of wonderful time together before their advancing years started to catch up with them and their health started to fail them. After the floods in the spring of 1983, which forced them to evacuate their Farmington home, Harry declined until his death on January 13, 1985.

For a second time she buried a husband. A little over two years earlier she had buried her oldest daughter, Dorothy, my mother. She never thought she would live to see the day one of her children would go before she did.

She is survived by three of her four children: Ruth Tovey of Bountiful, Bill Batt of Spokane, and Berniece Palmer of Tooele. And, according to our best calculation, by 26 grandchildren, 104 great-grandchildren, 60 great-great-grandchildren, and one great-great-great-granddaughter. She is also survived by one brother, Perry Lee of Butte, Montana.

There is in the revelations what has been called the "law of the mourner." In it the Lord says, "Thou shalt live together in love, insomuch that thou shalt weep for the loss of them that die, and more especially for those that have not hope of a glorious resurrection" (D&C 42:45).

That much of the revelation does not apply in this particular case, but the next verse does: "And it shall come to pass that those that die in me shall not taste of death, for it shall be sweet unto them" (D&C 42:46).

And that does apply to Grandma. She is one who, from everything I understand about the scriptures, qualifies as one who has, to use the Lord’s terminology, "died in me." She has been faithful. She has endured to the end. She has hope of a glorious resurrection. She has died in the Lord. And that is why there is really no sadness, but rather rejoicing, on this occasion.

Grandma turned 99 on November 20 of this year. She was in her 100th year. Imagine the incredible things she witnessed during the century that she lived—from the Wright brothers at Kitty Hawk to men walking on the moon, from the days of horse and buggy to modern means of rapid travel and nearly instant communication.

In November 1894, when she was born, Wilford Woodruff was the President of the Church and would be for another four years. The Salt Lake Temple had been dedicated just a year and a half earlier. The Manifesto, which announced the end of plural marriage in the Church, was only four years past. She would be four and a half years old when Lorenzo Snow, the next President of the Church, traveled to St. George, in southern Utah, to receive the revelation on tithing that was depicted in the Church movie The Windows of Heaven. She would be nearly seven years old when President Snow died and Joseph F. Smith became the next President of the Church. She has lived during the administrations of 10 of the 13 Prophets who have presided over the Church.

In November 1894, when she was born, Idaho had been a state less than five years. Statehood for Utah was still a year in the future. Grover Cleveland was the president of the United States (his second time around). William McKinley would be elected in 1896, just before her second birthday, and would lead the country through the Spanish–American War. President McKinley would be assassinated in 1901, just shortly into his second term and during Hazel’s seventh year.

She lived to see the beginning of the fulfillment of the Prophet Joseph Smith’s prophecy on Christmas Day 1832 that "the time will come that war will be poured out upon all nations" (D&C 87:2). World War I—that war to end all wars—was raging in Europe during the years Hazel was marrying and beginning her family. A generation later, as World War II erupted, she would see her only son Bill in the uniform of his country. And she lived to witness the incredible world events that all of us have seen, as prophesied by President Spencer W. Kimball, in these closing years of the twentieth century.

A personal note before I close. I inherited from both my grandmother and my mother a love for reading. In one of Shakespeare’s immortal plays, Hamlet wisely implored, "Angels and ministers of grace defend us!" (Hamlet, act 1, scene 4, line 39). Angels and ministers of grace! All of us, I am convinced, both need and in fact receive far more help in our daily lives than we realize from the angels and ministers of grace who surround us—on both sides of the veil.

Grandma was just such an angel and minister of grace in my young life. Our family moved from Oregon to Idaho in the early spring of 1959, just shortly after Grandpa Batt died in the mission field. I was nine years old. And shy. And probably having a difficult time with leaving the people and surroundings that I had been used to. That was the first time I had ever moved, and when we went to church in the old Nampa Second Ward I was put in the wrong Sunday School class. Well, a week or so later, after I discovered that error, I was so embarrassed that I decided I could never go back to church again.

And somehow, it seems incredible to me now, my parents let me persist in my inactivity for several weeks or months, and I shudder to think how different my life could have been had that continued. But then Grandma came to visit. Sunday morning came, and to Grandma it was unthinkable that a nine-year-old grandson of hers would not be in church on Sunday, and so I went and have been ever since. Angels and ministers of grace!

A few years later, when I was 11 and 12, we would go visit Grandma, who then lived next door to the Palmers in Grantsville. I loved to hear Grandma tell of her experiences in the mission field in New England. And to hear her talk about the gospel. She fired in me what has become a life-long love affair with the holy scriptures. It was probably she, more than any other person, who got me to read the Book of Mormon cover to cover when I was only twelve. And how that marvelous book has changed my life. All our lives. Angels and ministers of grace!

Well, in conclusion. Grandma has gone home. I can only imagine how sweet the reunions have been on the other side. What a neat Christmas present!

Elder Orson F. Whitney, a member of the Quorum of the Twelve earlier in this century, once said: "A funeral sermon is not for the benefit of the departed; rather it is for the good of those who remain. The dead, as we call them—though they are no more dead than we are, and are as much alive now as ever—are beyond our reach, just as they are beyond our vision. We cannot add to anything that they have done, nor can we take anything away. They have made their record and are in the keeping of a higher Power. But we can do something to comfort those who mourn, and by acts of kindness lessen human suffering. Our Father in heaven expects this at our hands" (Improvement Era, Nov. 1918, 3).

Hazel has now gone into the spirit world. "And where is this spirit world?" asked Elder Whitney in a funeral sermon he delivered in 1918, when Grandma was a young mother only 24 years old. "Is it off in some distant part of the universe? Do we sail away into space millions of miles in order to get there? No. The spirit world, according to Joseph Smith, is right around us. Our dead friends, as we call them—our departed loved ones—are very near us, so near, the Prophet says, that they are often grieved by what we do and say. To get into the spirit world, we have only to pass out of the body.

"The spirit world, as I understand it, is the spirit of this planet. When God made the earth he made it twice. When he made man he made him twice. When he made the animals, the fishes, and the fowls, he made them twice. When he made the beautiful flowers, such as you see here today, he made them twice. First as spirits and then as bodies, and when the spirits entered their bodies they became souls. This is the teaching of modern revelation; the teaching of Joseph Smith. God made the earth first as a spirit and then gave it a body, and what we call the spirit world is simply the spiritual half of the sphere we dwell in" (Improvement Era, Nov. 1918, 8).

Earth life is a school. "This earth was made for God’s children, his spirit sons and daughters, who take bodies and pass through experiences of joy and sorrow for their development and education, and to demonstrate through time’s vicissitudes that they will be true to God and do all that he requires at their hands.

"When we have done the things that we were sent to do," continued Elder Whitney, "when we have gained all the experience that this life affords, then is the best time to depart. School being out, why not go home? The mission ended, why not return? That is what death means to a Latter-day Saint. The only sad thing about it is parting with the loved ones who go, . . . but it is simply a passing into the spirit world, to await the resurrection, when our bodies and spirits will be reunited—the righteous to enjoy the presence of God.

"If we can be patient and resigned, and by God’s help do his holy will, all will come out well. Trials purify us, educate us, develop us. The great reason why man was placed upon the earth was that he might become more like his Father and God. That is why we are here, children at school. What matters it when school is out and the time comes to go back home?" (Improvement Era, Nov. 1918, 9–11).

We have paid tributes to Hazel today, but the ultimate tribute is the way we live our lives in quiet devotion to the cause of the Master whom she loved and followed. On her 80th birthday, back in 1974, at my invitation Grandma wrote a birthday greeting to all her family. I close with the words that she wrote on that occasion nearly two decades ago:

"As our eightieth year has arrived, there are many lessons we have learned and many, many things we have neglected to do. It is of these procrastinations I would warn you.

"I have had many people ask me, 'When do you think one should start to train a child?' And my answer has always been, 'Before they are born.' We cannot wait until a child is half past seven, depending on the Church to prepare them for baptism.

"All the beauty, value, and wonder of this great privilege should fall upon the parents. The same is true of celestial marriage, a mission, living a clean life, just to mention a few. This should be the very atmosphere of their lives from infancy—not preached or forced upon them, just lived day by day.

"So once again," she continues to write, "do not put off until tomorrow learning the things the Lord would have us do and, in turn, passing this knowledge on to your children, relatives, friends, and 'the stranger within your gates.'

"Pay your tithes and offerings in full. Be diligent in your prayers, and from long experience, I can guarantee that the Lord will bless and guide you beyond your wildest dreams.

"If I have influenced or helped any of you through the years, I am humbly grateful. We love you and pray for you." Signed Grandma Hazel.

God lives. His Son, whose birth we've just celebrated, lives. They send angels and ministers of grace into our lives to bless us everlastingly. Such has been the life of Hazel Jane Lee Batt Pledger. May we, like her, be as the Book of Mormon writer described, "instruments in the hands of God in bringing many to the knowledge of the truth, yea, to the knowledge of their Redeemer. And how blessed are they! For they did publish peace; they did publish good tidings of good" (Mosiah 27:36–37).

May we go and do likewise, I pray in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, amen.

Henry William Cleverly (Stella's version)

A history of Henry William Cleverly (1870–1955), written in 1951 by a daughter, Stella Camille Cleverly Mann (1907–1991)

Henry William Cleverly was born the son of James and Mary Alexander Cleverly August 6, 1870, with a twin sister Sarah Cleverly, at Calne, Wiltshire, England. At the age of one year, he with his parents, brothers, and sisters, left their home and traveled to Liverpool, England. Here, with 300 Saints, they sailed to America on the steamship Nevada on September 18, 1871. George H. Peterson was in charge of the group. The company arrived at New York on November 1, 1871. The Cleverly family arrived in Salt Lake City on November 11, 1871. They had used the Perpetual Emigrating Fund to come from England.

Henry William’s sister, Ellen Cleverly Salter, met them at their arrival in the Salt Lake Valley and took them in a wagon with oxen to her place, which consisted of one log room and an attic. The name of the place was Bountiful, but it was later renamed Woods Cross. The family stayed with Ellen until they got a place fixed near the river, where they lived until Grandfather [James Cleverly] bought a place from Jasper Perkins near their daughter Ellen. The place had one log room and many acres of land. There were some locust trees growing near the hut, and today two of those trees planted by Jasper Perkins are still growing. The family built on another log room, and this was their home for several years. Later two rooms were built of brick.

As Henry William grew, he had things to do, as well as his brothers and sisters. When he was eight years old, he herded cows for people at ten cents a day, and then sometimes he wasn’t paid. His father died in June of 1878. Henry William was away herding cows at the time. From then on his mother was father as well as mother to her children.

In 1879 a contagious disease called diphtheria was among the people. Father’s twin sister, Sarah, died of this disease, but the other children got over it. The children were very sick, and Grandmother thought her children would die, but she prayed and had faith that they would get well. While they were getting well again, the children couldn’t eat. Henry William and his brother Abel went out and ate gooseberries. These were the first thing they could eat and retain since their sickness.

When Henry was twelve years old, he used to help his Uncle Able Alexander bind the wheat. He rode the lead horse day after day while his uncle did the binding. Abel Alexander did the binding for all the people in the neighborhood. The Lucerne grew so high and thick that it would have to be moved with a fork before it could be moved. His uncle gave him good counsel and advice and always liked to work with him.

Henry William and Tom Burtenshaw, a neighbor boy, played together and had fun as well as getting into mischief. They got the cream jar once and ate cream until they couldn’t eat anymore then they poured the rest down the well. They paid for this stunt because they never liked cream after this.

His schooling was limited because of the cost, but he would go when he had the money. Henry went as far as the fourth reader. The school was held in homes, and these were the homes he went to: Belle Noble, Sarah A. Howard, Mary Mills, and Rebecca Brown.

Henry was a good religious boy and would go to Sunday School and all other meetings regardless of what kind of weather. The roads used to be so muddy that when they took horse and wagon they would have to get out and walk because the horses couldn’t pull the wagon through the mud. The first ward he belonged to was Bountiful. It was then divided into the East Bountiful, West Bountiful, and South Bountiful Wards. He then belonged to the South Bountiful Ward with Bishop William Brown as their leader. He tried to do whatever the bishop asked him to do.

His brother Abel was digging a pit, and he got too close and was hit in the head with the pick.

When he was about fourteen years old, he went to the sheep camps to help his brothers. He did most of the cooking, and then later he herded sheep with his brothers. Later he herded for the Hatch brothers and then when the Deseret Livestock Company was organized he herded for them. He farmed in the summer, herded sheep in the winter.

When he was eighteen, Henry decided to smoke but never out in public or in the house. He smoked for twenty years and then quit. He tells the other men and boys they can quit if the want to because he did.

Henry took care of his mother and farmed her place. When the school house, the second one, was built he helped build it. We called it the red schoolhouse. It was across the street from Tom Burtenshaw’s place.

Henry was twenty-eight years old when he got married. He married Olive Ellen Ritchie on December 21, 1898, at the old McDuff place. He began working at the brick yard, which wasn’t too far from where they lived. He helped make the brick for the West Bountiful church and the South Bountiful church house. He made all the brick that went into his home, which was built in 1904. His wife carried the bricks while he laid them with the mortar. They lived with his mother before they built their own home.

Henry liked to sing and was very good at it. He was a member of the choir until the South Bountiful Ward was divided in 1938. Then he belonged to the Orchard Ward. He belonged to a male quartet called Diamond Quartet and to the Bonneville Dramatic Club. He played the violin, guitar, banjo, and harmonica. He had several quartet groups that he taught, and they would sing at various wards and special programs. He often sang in contests the Mutual had. He took vocal lessons from Professor David Mann and some from Horace Ensign.

Henry was a good sportsman, liking fishing, hunting, wrestling, boxing, baseball, and basketball. He was a great duck hunter and for years sold ducks and rabbits to the eating places in Salt Lake.

Henry kept the commandments of God and taught his children by principle as well as example. He was a ward teacher for over fifty years. He and his companion, Joseph Moss, were ward teachers together for twenty years and didn’t miss a month.

He played ball with the fellows of the community, and he played many games at the Bountiful ball diamond. This was just a block south of the Bamberger station and east of the Hales Hall Dance Building. A welding outfit has the building today. He taught his children to play ball and played with them. Almost any day of the week while resting from the farm labors you could see a ball game going on at William Cleverly’s place with the neighbor boys and girls, as well as his own children.

He has had several narrow escapes from what seemed sure death. He liked to wrestle and would show his boys how to get the holds. After one of these wrestling sprees one day he passed one of the boys in the dining room, made a pass at him, and slipped and fell, hitting the china closet. A piece of glass pierced his lung, going in through the back. The doctor took the glass out, and Father has the glass yet. He has been in automobile accidents, but has been blessed by not being seriously hurt.

Henry William was a hard working man and had his children work along with him. He was a farmer and also a truck gardener. He worked at Cudahy Packing Company as a bricklayer and plasterer. When it became hard for the farmer to sell his produce, he bought cows and cared for them, selling the milk to Moss Brothers Dairy. Then he became ill and was getting at the age where he had to take it easy, so he let his son Elwood take over the place.

When Henry’s second son, a twin Eldred, was kicked by a horse, and he had to be operated on, he watched the operation. It was a real sorrow for Father. Eldred lived ten days after the accident.

Henry William Cleverly (Louisa's version)

A history of Henry William Cleverly (1870–1955), written in 1950 by a daughter, Mary Louisa Cleverly Day (1901–1980)

Henry William Cleverly was born August 6, 1870, at Calne, Wiltshire, England. He was a twin with his sister, Sarah Cleverly. They were son and daughter of James and Mary Alexander Cleverly.

At the age of one year, with his parents and brothers and sisters, he sailed to the United States of America. They came to Utah to make their home. Henry William had two brothers, Francis and Jesse, and a sister, Ellen Salter, already living in Utah.

Henry William has lived at the same place for nearly all of his eighty years. Upon arrival in the new country, the family stayed with the daughter, Mrs. William Salter, until they got a place near the river, where they lived until they bought the place where the home now stands, located on Highway 91 [now numbered as Highway 89], the Salt Lake and Ogden highway, just about six or seven miles from Salt Lake City and three miles from Bountiful City. It was a two-room log house, and later two rooms were added of brick. Jasper Perkins did the finishing inside.

Henry William when a small boy herded cows on the foothills and river lands for ten to fifteen cents a day. He was used to going barefooted because it was hard to keep a large family in shoes. He was the eleventh child of twelve.

When he was eight years old, his father died, and his mother had to be father as well as mother to him. His twin sister died of diphtheria. His youngest sister Mary died with it also just before his father died.

Henry William had blonde hair, blue eyes, and sandy complexion. He is about five feet nine inches in height. In his teen years he went sheep herding for Hatch Brothers and then later herded for the Deseret Livestock Company.

He belonged to the Bountiful Ward and then when it was divided into other wards he was in South Bountiful Ward. He attended the meetings, dances, and every recreation he could. His schooling was limited because of the cost, but he went as much as he could and passed the fifth reader. The old rock school house where he went to school was south of where he lived about a mile or more, near the Davis County–Salt Lake County line, next to the home of Samuel Mills. Wiesers have the property now and have houses on it.

Henry William loved music and played a violin as well as sing.

He married Olive Ellen Ritchie on December 21, 1898. Then on June 14, 1899, they were married in the Salt Lake Temple for time and all eternity.

Henry William worked at the brickyard not far from his home, where he made bricks for the people around the community. After children came to bless them, the house wasn’t big enough, because Father and Mother lived with Father’s mother. Father made all the brick and laid them with the help of Mother to make a really nice home. Then the two log rooms were used for washing rooms and storing things. I was big enough to remember those rooms and the way we used to play house there. Father dug the wells on the place with help from the neighbor. He did all the plastering of the house.

When Dad was a boy he and Tom Burtenshaw, a neighbor boy, got in the cellar one day and ate all the cream off the milk, said they were hungry for it, instead of having it all made into butter. Well, both lads found out that cream wasn’t so good after all so much at a time. Neither of them liked cream after the steal.

Father and Mother had a large family, thirteen children, twelve living and one stillbirth. Two pairs of twin boys. Seven boys and six girls. He taught us to sing, play ball, and be good sports. He was a farmer and did brick laying and plastering.

Dad kept the commandments of God and taught his children by principle as well as example. He was a ward teacher for over fifty years. Joseph Moss and Dad were ward teacher companions for nearly thirty years. He belonged to the choir and sang tenor and was a member of the South Bountiful choir until the ward was divided in 1938. Dad then belonged to the new Orchard Ward. He had several quartet groups that he taught, and they would sing at the various wards and on special programs. Some of the men involved in these quartets included Bill Yeiter, Bill Hatch, George Salter, Joe Hart, Dick Gwynn, and Elmer Day.

He loved sports of all kinds and played ball with the fellows of the community. He taught his children to play ball and played with them. Almost any day of the week, while resting from the farm labors, you could see a ball game going on at the William Cleverly place. Neighbor boys and girls played, as well as his own.

He was a duck hunter and a good one. When ducks were plentiful, and the hunter could sell his kill, and there wasn’t a limit on them, Dad used to sell ducks to the restaurants and cafes in Salt Lake City.

He has had several narrow escapes from what seemed sure death. He was wrestling with the boys one day, and then when they were finished as he passed one of the boys in the dining room he made a pass at him and slipped and fell into the china closet, and a piece of glass pierced his lung, went in the back. Then he has been in car wrecks and hit by rocks, which have laid him up for a few days or so.

When his second son, Eldred, one of the twins, was kicked by a horse and had to be operated on, that was a real sorrow for him. The son lived ten days after the accident.

He was very good to his mother and cared for her until her death.

Every Thanksgiving was quite an event at the Cleverly place. With Grandma and Grandpa and all the aunts and uncles and everyone making such a do about things, it really was something for us kids to remember. Then when Dad’s kids began getting married and had their children, they joined in the singing, stories, etc. from nearly everyone.

One year, after the crops had turned out good and there was a rest before the fall work started, Dad and Mother loaded up the Ford and with some of the younger children started to Idaho to visit with Dad’s brothers. When they got to McCammon they put the Ford in a garage because they were going to stay all night there. During the night a fire broke out at the garage, and Dad’s Ford was burned with several other cars. This didn’t stop Dad’s trip. They took the train and went on to Uncle Frank and Uncle Jesse’s place.

The daughters and sons were getting older now and would soon be getting married. Daddy advised each one about the responsibilities of getting married. He had many joys and sorrows, and the biggest sorrow was when his wife died in 1945. Dad and Mother had gone to a basketball game to watch their three sons, Wayne, Ivard, and Irvin, play at the Deseret Gym. It was at this game that Mother had a stroke, resulting in her death three days later.

Dad and brother Elwood lived alone then until Dad’s health wasn’t so good, and then he had Sarah and her family move in with them.

In 1948 his brother’s wife died, and he went to Idaho Falls to the services, then over to see his brother Frank (Francis) at Rigby. While there he broke his ankle. It was fixed, and they wanted him to stay in the hospital there at Idaho Falls, but he wouldn’t. He said he wanted to come home, so brother Elwood, who had taken him up there, brought him home, and he wore a cast for months, but he felt better being home. He gets around well and doesn’t show any effects of having broken his ankle.

At the time of this being written, Dad is eighty years young and still enjoys the baseball and basketball games. He has a grandson who plays on the University of Utah basketball team.

He has eleven living children, ten of them married, and forty living grandchildren and fifteen great-grandchildren.

Each year on his wedding anniversary, which is December 21, we have a family Christmas party. Even after Mother passed away, we continue having the party. Each year there are more at the party.

When the Orchard Ward was under construction, Dad worked there day after day cleaning the bricks for the facing job, and many more jobs he did also.

A tribute to Grandpa Batt

William B Batt was born on April 27, 1888, the son of Charles (1861-1949) and Eliza Brazier Batt (1864-1926). He married Hazel Jane Lee (1894-1993) on October 8, 1914. Their oldest daughter, Dorothy Batt Cleverly (1915-1982), was my mother. The memorial here appears to have been written by the Batts' mission president, Junius M. Jackson, or his wife in the New England Mission, where they were serving as missionaries for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints at the time Grandpa died in Rutland, Vermont, on February 4, 1959. The tribute was found among a box of genealogical records my sister-in-law Sheryl gave me after my brother Ray died in 1990.

Elder William B Batt came to New England with Sister Hazel Batt on February 2, 1957, to serve a two-year mission for the Church. How well we remember that day and how impressed we were when they arrived and what joy came to us as we thought of the great missionary work they would accomplish while here. They served first in Bath, Maine, and later Brother Batt was made president of the branch in Fall River, Massachusetts, Sister Batt later serving as the Relief Society president.

With a great desire to carry the gospel message to the good people of Rutland, Vermont, and to establish a Sunday School organization there, President and Sister Batt were transferred to Rutland on November 22, 1958. Brother Batt served as superintendent of the Sunday School and Sister Batt, responding in her sweet effective way, as president of the Relief Society.

We were shocked on the morning of February 4 to receive a phone call from Sister Batt stating that Brother Batt had passed away in the early morning hours apparently with a coronary heart attack. How characteristic of a devoted servant of the Lord was the service of Brother Batt. Active until the last moment, he was in the service of his Maker. Having completed their two-year missionary term one day before his passing, Elder Batt had already posted a letter to the mission president expressing their willingness and desire to serve another two or three months.

How well we remember with great admiration Brother Batt's jovial and numerous human interest stories taken from his life of service to the Church. He was a highlight in any missionary conference and all looked forward to hearing him.

We all join with dear Sister Batt in expressing our deep sorrow but with the same abiding assurance and faith that we know she has that parting is only temporary and their lives will be extended together in happiness throughout eternity.

We know our lives have been enriched and our faith and testimonies have grown stronger because of our association with Brother and Sister Batt.

Donna's memories of Ivard

On January 5, 2002, Ivard’s only surviving sister, Donna Cleverly Winters, wrote me a letter with her early memories of Ivard and the family. The full letter was published in the April 2002 issue of the Cleverly Newsletter. These excerpts were published in the April 2005 Family Journal in commemoration of the 90th anniversary of his birth.

My first recollection of your dad (Ivard) and his twin brother Irvin—they were teases.

Our home had no electricity, only coal oil lamps for light. On August 6, 1929, the electricity was turned on, which consisted of one light globe hanging from the middle of the room. A strong cord was attached to the light fixture, causing the light to turn on or off when pulled.

Before we had lights my two brothers frightened me enough that I still cannot walk into a dark room where someone can hide behind the door—and I’m 78 years old.

Ivard and Irvin would have fights almost every day. This summer day Dad got so exasperated—put boxing gloves on them. They fought each other until they were covered with blood and could not get up off the lawn or raise their arms. Being their baby sister, I was screaming and crying hysterically.

Every night we had family home evening, unless we had to go to a sports event, basketball, baseball, or football. Basketball was our number one sport. Our father was very musical. He made records before he married our mother. Dad sang solos, duets, quartets, barbershop, and directed music at the church. Our family was all musical but Stella. Annie, Louie, Sarah, and I all played the piano. Wayne played cornet, Ivard the violin, and Irvin saxophone. We were all good singers.

On Saturday night our relatives brought their instruments, and we had a real hoedown. Our home was a place of good food and beautiful music.

Irvin told me how he and Ivard sang all the music for school plays or whenever music was needed from first grade to junior high school because they were so good.

I got along fine with Ivard, but Irvin and I were too much alike. We always wanted the same things.

Sunday afternoon all the Cleverly clan came home. After lunch we played softball, touch football, sang, and played instruments, played cards—where most of us learned to add and subtract. We had a wonder­ful life.

On Saturday Dad, Marvin, Ivard, and Irvin milked all the cows by hand. We sold the milk to Moss Dairy in Woods Cross. They started milking at 4:00 a.m. and finished around 7:30 a.m. After breakfast Ivard, Irvin, Wayne, and I were each assigned a room in our house to clean before my brothers could go play with their friends.

The funniest thing that happened to Ivard and Irvin: They took new­born kittens and put them into our outdoor toilet. Dad made them go fishing for them. They lived. I don’t remember which one went down head first through the toilet seat with a rope around him. Both Ivard and Irvin were covered with fecal material. What a mess!! They were happy when they had a hot bath.
The Bam­ber­ger [the inter­city train that ran from Ogden to Salt Lake] ran in front of our home, and you had to cross the tracks to come into our yard.

On a summer day when I was ten years old (1933), our dog was hit by the train. Some of us kids carried our dog down to the lawn where we wanted to pray for him. Ivard got Dad’s shotgun to put him out of his pain and suffering. We all knelt down and circled the dog. Bobbie Cleverly, five years old, wanted to say the prayer. This is the blessing he said, “Father in heaven, bless the food. Thanks for it. Name of Jesus Christ, amen.”

Ivard did not shoot the dog. He lived.