Trip to Weisenborn, Cainsdorf and Plauen 6 June 2029 –Ann Lewis Journal

Excerpt from my 6 June 2009 journal entry of our trip through eastern Germany and Poland:

   

Then we got back to the car and drove through Dresden and on to Chemnitz, and eventually to Zwickau, where John’s grandmother, Charlotte Meisel was born. Barbara had scrambled to put together a bit of info for John so we had something to go on in Zwickau, but neither ever had time to really discuss it. Somewhere in Barb’s notes it said that perhaps Grandma Charlotte was christened in a parish called Weisenborn bei Zwickau. We decided to find the church there and see if we could learn anything. Zwickau is a large town, and very old. We had a good road atlas and found our way to Weisenborn without much trouble. There was an old church in the center of the village, it’s always easy to see the Spital (steeple). So we found the church and found a place to park. It was raining. There was a car parked in front of the church with wedding decorations on it–we could see a wedding was taking place. So first we wandered through the beautiful Friedhof behind the church and took some photos. In Germany, cemeteries are very different. A family leases the plot and then maintains the plot. Each has an enclosed area, about 5×7 feet or so, planted with beautiful plants and flowers. Family members usually visit their family plots a couple of times each week to weed and water the plants and flowers. Each plot is beautiful. After 25 or 30 years, the leases expire and if the family doesn’t renew them, the headstones are removed and the space is used for another person. So in any given Friedhof, you seldom see head stones of people born before the early 1900s. All the old ones are gone. Most of the headstones are large, polished stone with letters (names) attached, not carved in. The cemeteries are like beautiful gardens, but their histories are relatively recent.

We didn’t know how long the wedding would continue, so after our wander through the cemetery, we slipped into the back of the church and went up the spiral staircases, one on either side, to the balcony area at the back of the church where we could watch the rest of the wedding. It was a small church. The main level was filled with people and a few others were up by us. After about 20 more minutes, the wedding ended. It was like a church service with several congregational hymns. Then the bride and groom, who had been seated in the front by the alter, made their exit with tossed rose petals. We waited for the guests to greet them at the back door, and when all had gone, we approached the preacher, who informed us that he was a visiting Pfarrer (from another youth congregation the couple attended) but he told us the Pfarrer of this church lived in the house next door, and we went over to see if he was there. He was. A very nice man with a full beard who looked like a younger version of Burl Ives. We told him who we were and what we were doing and asked if we might take a look at the old Church Books to see if we might find Charlotte Meisel there. John ran back to the car for my laptop so I could check the dates and names of all her family members. Roger helped with the explanations. Then he brought the books out and laid them on the table in front of us. We checked in the Tauf (birth) records first and within minutes, we were looking at an entry for Charlotte’s birth to Otto Meisel and Christiane Kruegel in 1890. It was Thrilling! Then we spent some time finding all of her siblings that could be found. The records in the books they had only began in 1883.

Charlotte’s first sister, Elise was born in 1880, so we didn’t find her, but we found the next six. With each name, it was exciting. Then Roger asked for the marriage records, and there we found Otto and Christiane. Then we checked the Confirmation records (done at age 14) and found a family of Kruegels that we will take time later to study. I photographed each entry and page, using different camera settings because I didn’t have my tripod and I was nervous about holding the camera still enough. Took some with the flash, some with other settings. Interesting that the Pfarrer couldn’t read the old handwriting and he also got excited for us. He gave us some free postcards and pamphlets with info about the church and we took his name in case we need more info in the future. John was thrilled and couldn’t wait to tell Barb. This was exciting for me too–my first ever experience actually holding the old church books I’ve looked at for hours and hours on microfilm. There is nothing like that feeling. It’s like holding history. It’s almost like seeing faces on the pages.

Next we drove to another nearby village called Cainsdorf, which is another place mentioned by Otto in his records. We think he may have lived there in his younger years–maybe he was even born there. We found the old church up on a hill, near a very old school and the Pfarrer’s house. He was home and was happy to let us look at the old church records there, but they didn’t begin until 1869, and we needed records earlier than that. We checked confirmations and marriages, but no luck. He said Cainsdorf was a part of Planitz and we might find some records there. He was very kind and lived in a very old brick home. So much history remains in Germany. Everything there is older than anything in America.

The skies were dark and it was rainy. We found some wonderful yellow and black striped snails on the old rock walls. Photographed a few to show Berd. Took photos of the old schools and church, then drove to Plauen, another closely connected village, part of Zwickau. Plauen is also mentioned in these family records. There is a Huge church in Plauen. The St. Johanneskirche. It was open and we got to go inside. Someone there was preparing for tomorrow’s services, and when he finished, we had to leave. This church was built in 1122. It burned and was rebuilt in 1556, and was rebuilt a few more times since then. Took photos in and around the church. Barb thinks Otto worked on the copper roofs on this church in the 1880s.

It was all very exciting and we determined that a return trip with Barb would be great someday.

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Christiane Minna “Minnie” Kruegel Meisel (1857-1922)

Ellis Island Passenger Record:
Emma Meisel
Last place of residence: Geisenheim, Germany
Date of Arrival: July 17, 1909
Age: 52, Married
Ship: Amerika
Port of Departure: Cuxhaven
Manifest Line Number: 0010

Ruby Conley Cardon writes: “Besides the baths, the best other things were watching Grandma make streuselkuchen on the big table, and seeing her arrange many rows of fruit (apricots, cherries, apples) on coffee cake sheets–as wonderful as any bakery you’ve ever been in here or abroad!”

1920 census, Precinct 2, Salt Lake, Utah, age 62.

Died 11 Mar 1922, State file #1922001210, buried at Salt Lake City Cemetery.

Temple Record Book of Otto Eduard Meisel – copy in possession of K.R. Thatcher, POB 1226, Beaver UT 84713.
!Record of Members of the Church of Jesus Christ of LDS in the Dresden Conference – Mission – copy in possession of K.R. Thatcher
!Buried in Salt Lake Cemetery.
!Baptized in Plauen, Saxony. (Or 3 Jul 1908)
!Endowed: Or 18 Nov 1921.
!Born: or Helmsdorf, Zwickau, Saxony.

Stitched Sampler made by Minnie Meisel, who arrived in America in 1909

Stitched Sampler by Minnie Meisel, showing the perfect back side.

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James Holt and Mary Payne Family Register

Here is the Family Register page for James and Mary Payne Holt, my 3rd Great-grandparents.  Only 3 of their 8 children lived to adulthood.

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Grace Helen Smuin Laemmlen: The Story of My Life (January 14, 1930 to October 31, 1998)

Pleasant and simple are the memories of my early childhood, living in a small, gray stucco home next to a vacant corner lot. There was a huge pepper tree on that lot and it was so exciting to all the neighborhood children for climbing and exploring. We lived at 5115 Eagle Dale, Eagle Rock, California, in the same block that bordered the City of Glendale, and was just one block away from Colorado Boulevard, the famous boulevard extending eastward through downtown Pasadena. In 1955, my sister, Marilyn Smuin, was to ride majestically as Queen of the Tournament of Roses down that same Colorado Boulevard in Pasadena. It saddens me now, as an adult, to see that the little gray house, the pepper tree, even the blocks and houses all around have been torn down and a grand freeway system has been constructed extending across the whole area and right over the place where once stood our little gray home and the friendly pepper tree.

My parents, Franklin Smuin and Ruby Grace Lundquist Smuin, were married in the Salt Lake Tempe September 11, 1924, and lived in Salt Lake City, Utah. Their first child, Glen Lundquist Smuin, was born June 27, 1927, at Holy Cross Hospital in Salt Lake City. About a year later in May 1928, they moved to Glendale, California, looking for a warmer climate, and perhaps a little adventure. They piled all of their belongings into their car with a load strapped on top. Dad had to cut a chunk off of a corner of the cedar chest to make it fit between the front seats so he could still shift. As they were off and heading for California and were going down a hill, a tire came off the car and they watched it rolling ahead of them. Dad laughed as he told this story to us when we were little. I’m sure it wasn’t funny at the time. This move to California may have been because of my dad’s health. When he was in the service in World War I, he contracted influenza and pneumonia and nearly died. About twenty million people died worldwide during the influenza epidemic in 1918, including one-half million in the United States. My dad had another bout with pneumonia soon after he was married. Again he nearly died. This affected his heart and must have been difficult for him as he had always been physically active.

So they came to live in beautiful Glendale. The happiness and joy their first child brought to them, however, ended in tragedy as the sweet little blond-haired Glen died at the age of one and a half years of a mastoid ear infection on December 12, 1927.

It must have been an especially joyful occasion to the proud parents when I was born at Glendale Research Hospital on January 14, 1930, at 10:03 a.m.—a little daughter with my mother’s and grandmother’s namesakes—to bring happiness again into their lives and fill the void with love and new hope. My first home was at 915 G East Garfield, Glendale, California. My dad was age 35 and my mother was 32 years of age when I was born. Leland C. Morris was my mother’s physician.

My earliest memories were of love and warmth in those early ‘30s of the Depression years. We managed on my father’s pension as a disabled veteran of World War I with happy occasions. Before I was five years old, I remember “tea parties” with neighborhood friends and birthday parties in the backyard with balloons, favors, cake with candles to blow out, ice cream and presents. I remember going to nursery school and swinging on a black tire hanging from a big pepper tree, and refusing to “take a nap” with the excuse, “My mother says I don’t have to.” We lived at the foot of “Little Rock,” a steep hill with a big round rock near the very top. It looked like someone could push it and it would roll right down on our house. On Easter Day after Church and dinner, we would walk up that hill and roll candy eggs down the hill. Aunt Helen was always with us on holidays. She was widowed and lived alone in Los Angeles, but she was like a grandma to us. She was a stout little lady, my mother’s aunt, who had come over from Sweden. She loved cats and had many. Her house always smelled like fish. My middle name comes from her. I never knew grandparents.

When I was about five years old, Mom and I took the train and went to Salt Lake City where my Uncle “Doc” (Dr. C.C.R. Pugmire) took out my tonsils while I lay on a table in his kitchen! Afterward I remember eating lots of ice cream and later picking pansies in Aunt Leila’s yard. When we returned home, the first thing I noticed when Dad picked us up was that he was wearing a new tie. It was years later I realized that out with the tonsils came the uvula, so that I could never have a good singing voice. In fifth grade I was told I couldn’t sing and was given harmonica lessons instead of singing in the choir. I learned to play the harmonica and enjoyed it, even teaching lessons to some fifth grade boys while I was in college. I have always felt self-conscious about singing and still do not enjoy it. One summer when I was ten or eleven, I took marimba lessons in summer school and really did well—I was the best in the class. I could play “Anchors Aweigh” and loved it. A missing uvula could have led to an interesting future in music. I love music, but not singing.

I remember going to Sunday School with Mom and Dad, walking up a flight of stairs, my hands in my dad’s. It must have been a lodge or clubhouse until we met in the new Glendale Ward somewhere near Chevy Chase and Colorado Blvd. Later, I remember roller-skating the two or three miles to Primary. From that time on, I don’t remember my dad going to Church at all. Mom went, and was active teaching Sunday School and Beehives in MIA. I liked Church and enjoyed my teachers. I graduated from Primary July 13, 1941, in Glendale East Ward.

The most special occasion of those early years was when my sister was born. I was five and one-half years old, and I remember my mother canning peaches that hot August 3rd day in 1935. My next recollection was visiting the hospital and seeing my mother in her room from the outside window (children weren’t allowed inside). I had picked a bunch of flowers for her. It was so exciting thinking of having a baby sister! I remember running up and down our block telling all my friends I had a new baby sister. The most thrilling part of it was that I got to name her. Marilyn was the prettiest name I could think of and Mom and Dad added Joan. Joan Marilyn Smuin. I had named my sister!

The day I was baptized at eight years of age, I remember telling my neighbor girlfriend across the street what was going to happen. It was a special evening—I was impressed by everyone being dressed in white, somehow not expecting that. I was baptized on March 5, 1938, by Frank Barlow Clinger, priest, and confirmed March 20, 1938, by Elder Sidney Williams. Bishop of Glendale Ward was Leonard W. Hill.

Our home was typical of those of the ‘20s and ‘30s—stucco, a flat drop roof with a row of red tile trim, and a front porch of the living room. Many summer evenings were spent on the porch in the cooling breezes as my parents listened to Rudy Valle, Amos ‘n Andy, and other radio programs. Sometimes Mom and Dad would just take a walk around the block, stopping at Ito Brothers Grocery Store to buy a candy bar which would be sliced at home to share for all of us. I never remember eating a whole candy bar all by myself. Occasionally, we had a wonderful treat when the Good Humor man came down the street in his little square white truck announced by his repeating tune, “Little Brown Jug.” When he opened the doors at the back of the truck and the fog from the dry ice rolled out, my choice was usually a chocolate-coated vanilla bar on a stick, or a “twistie.” A twistie was a long roll of vanilla ice cream with an orange sherbet center and was wrapped in stiff paper. It was unwrapped by twisting the paper around and around from the top. It was so good! All ice cream was 5 cents. Hopefully, we would get a “free stick” for a free ice cream. If the stick had a green tip and FREE printed on the ice cream end, it was good for a free ice cream. We got “free sticks” often.

In the wintertime we would sit around a false-front fireplace (with a gas heater) in our living room peeling oranges, reading, playing games, or listening to the radio. Every morning there would be a big glass of freshly-squeezed orange juice—pulp, seeds, and all. “Strain it through your teeth,” my mother would say. We always had good healthful foods with plenty of fruits and vegetables. I don’t remember being sick except for measles and a mild case of whooping cough. One pleasant chore for me was to walk two or three blocks to buy eggs from our landlady who would give me a big plump marshmallow from a pretty covered glass dish in her living room.

We had an “ice box” and on ice delivery days, children would run alongside the ice truck begging for “chips” of ice at each stop. The block of ice went in the top of the ice box where bottled milk was kept coldest. As the ice melted, it drained into a pan on the floor which had to be emptied as it became full. This was the beginning of J-E-L-L-O and new “refrigerator” desserts for housewives of the ‘30s.

A big event of those years was when Mom got a new electric wringer washing machine! No more washing by hand on the washboards in the two big tubs on the back porch of course, all washing was done and hung out to dry. I remember one time after a full washing was done and hung out to dry, the clothesline posts gave way and all the clothes and sheets and towels went down in a heap in the dirt. It was the only time I remember seeing Mother cry. Dad was there and had his arm around her.

San Rafael Elementary School in Eagle Rock was where I attended kindergarten through most of sixth grade until we moved. It was a Spanish-style, two-story building with one room for each grade—K to 4th downstairs and 5th and 6th plus auditorium and teachers’ lounge upstairs. The school was located on a hillside against the mountain, and the playground was terraced into three levels—one level for primary grades, and one for upper grades. The top level was for gardens. Each classroom had a section or a garden and each student had a “plot” for growing vegetables and flowers. An annual event was a late spring picnic for parents and students which was held in the wooded picnic area of this level. We made salads using the vegetables we had grown.

 

Each teacher of that school brings back vivid memories, even more so than in later grades or even high school or college. Mrs. Childs, first grade, was motherly, matronly, and warm. I painted the best tiger in the whole class. His legs made him look like he was really walking. On the last day of school, the picture was claimed by another child. I wanted to cry. Mrs. Lightning, second grade, was firm, and got me off to a good start in reading. I still remember the flash card drills, and a huge lacy Valentine that opened up all frilly—and from a boy! Miss Armstrong, third grade, was my most favorite teacher and grade. It was then I decided I wanted to be a third grade teacher. We studied trains one semester and Indians the next. We went on lots of field trips. I began reading more and enjoying it greatly. Ol’ Mrs. Allen, fourth grade, was so strict and demanding. I didn’t make the map of California just right and she hit my hand with a ruler. I walked home at recess feigning “illness” and didn’t go back that day. Oh, how I wanted to change schools that year. The Sinclair sisters taught fifth and sixth grades upstairs.

They were good teachers and those were good years. From the windows of those rooms was a view of the lovely valley below and the rolling hills beyond. Music time just before lunch was daydreaming time for me, looking out of the windows during rainstorms or spring time, or any time thinking of far-away places. It was also the time I began harmonica lessons at school. Happy years. We walked home for lunch through the tunnel under the busy boulevard the school was on, through vacant lots and alleys, then always found a hot lunch waiting at home.

Those school days were happy and busy, but how we looked forward to summer vacations! Our family went some place every week all summer. Often it was a picnic in a park. My favorite was a park where there would be pony rides. Sometimes we went to the beach, usually Long Beach, with its wide expanse of clean, white sand and interesting surf. There were always sand castles to build, and we ate our lunch under our colorful beach umbrella. Aunt Helen would go along on our weekly outings, especially if our excursion was cooking a pancake and bacon breakfast over an open fire in the coolness of an early summer morning at Brookside Park near the Rose Bowl. Oh, how good it smelled and how wonderful it tasted! One special trip was to Long Beach Harbor to visit and explore the sailing vessel Old Ironsides while it docked there a short time. It seemed so big as we walked all over it. We also took our lunch on these outings—usually ham and also tuna sandwiches, canned pork and beans, and the big treat of potato chips, homemade cookies, and a big jug of lemonade. We took balls for playing catch. I never remember going on “long” vacations.

   

Sometimes we would visit relatives. We went to Aunt Elsie’s often. She made the best oatmeal cookies I ever ate. Uncle Don always frightened me to death with firecrackers on the 4th of July. I remember “Dutch Lunches” with Mildred and George, and beautiful and delicious dinner with Uncle Doc and Aunt Hattie. I remember visiting Aunt Edna and Uncle Kenny in their funny apartment on top of a crazy hill in Los Angeles, and one very special dinner that was so fancy. Melon balls and fruit in ginger and squash that I couldn’t stand at home tasted so good at their place—it was actually scooped out and stuffed with something very good and had cheese melting all over it and topped with buttered crumbs. Then the apple pie! It was heaven. Edna has always been such a good cook. I wished then I could cook like that, too. The only other thing I remember about their house was one huge picture frame with a tiny little picture in it. And, oh! The funny stories Kenny always told us. He told stories that had us laughing until we cried. I think he worked in a meat market.

Our family ties were close and we got together often.  Christmas was always special. We had a Christmas tree that had to touch the ceiling, covered with lights and decorations. We helped make special treats and presents Waiting was the hardest part—it seemed like Christmas Day would never arrive. In earlier years, the Christmas tree was decorated on Christmas Eve, always with Aunt Helen helping. Later, the tree was put up about a week before Christmas. Each ball and decoration was carefully wrapped in tissue paper. A few got broken, but most of them lasted as long as I lived at home. We used the same decorations every year and each of us had out favorite ornament. Dad always put on the tinsel. One present was opened on Christmas Eve, along with our annual new PJs. Then we hung up the stockings, and Dad read the Christmas story from the Bible. Then we were off to bed with excitement, awe, and expectation, especially when hearing more paper rattling, and hushed voices.

Then came Christmas morning! In our cozy warm house breakfast came first—orange juice (even on Christmas), rolls, and hot Ovaltine. Then we opened stockings and presents. It was thrilling and fun. Papers flew everywhere with games and puzzles to keep us busy for days. A Christmas dinner came later that day and visitors with family. One year a new game of Monopoly kept us busy for days. Holidays were always special and were usually enjoyed with a family gathering with different families on different occasions. There was always feasting and fun, and visiting.

It was a beautiful, clear, bright warm day in September 1941, when at 11 years of age, I started walking. First down to the corner, then turning around the block, then on, and on, and on, and on. The air was clean and fresh, each block beckoned for one more, until I had explored many blocks and many miles. There had been no intention at the beginning of “going anywhere.” I had no destination in mind. I just kept going— through residential areas, stopping once or twice to get a drink of water from a garden hose in someone’s yard, and continuing on past the railroad freight yards in Los Angeles. Then, realizing it had been some time since I had left home around ten in the morning, and without any money, I started heading toward Mildred and George’s in Huntington Park. Little did I dream of walking to their place when I started, and ending there about six hours and 12 miles later. Little did I dream that my parents were frantic, and police bulletins were out. My aunt and uncle gave me something to eat, called my folks, who came immediately to pick me up. I was tired, and somewhat bewildered over all the excitement. After all, it was only a walk. It is interesting now, as an adult, to still hear “stories” from relatives and friends about “the time I ran away from home.” I did not! It was just an “innocent adventure,” testing the wanderlust in my soul.

In October of 1941, we moved from the little gray stucco home in Eagle Rock, leaving behind friends and memories. How I remember Mom and Dad looking for a new house and finding “just the right one” at 175 West Chestnut Street in San Gabriel. Mom excitedly said to Dad, “Let’s take it!” The deal was closed at a cost of about $4,500. We had a brand new home in a new residential area known as San Gabriel Village. The corner lot next to us was still vacant and there was a huge open field across the street. As the realtor showed the home, I remember Dad asking where the Mormon Church was. He told my dad it was in nearby Alhambra just off Valley Boulevard, a few miles away. After the day of moving in, we had a supper of cheese sandwiches toasted in a waffle iron. Aunt Helen was with us.

Mom and Dad wasted no time getting settled and before long, Mom was marking off the yard into garden and lawn areas. Our new neighbors were surprised to see how soon grass was planted, shrubs and trees were put in, and especially for Mom—plenty of space for her rose garden and sweet peas. Her favorite rose was the Charlotte Armstrong. She had about one bush of each of her favorite roses.

A new home in a new location meant a new school and new friends. I attended McKinley Elementary School about 3 blocks away, walking through the open field across the 4 street, and through a walnut orchard. Marilyn was in first grade and I was finishing sixth grade. The adjustment seemed to go smoothly. We both finished our elementary education at that school and graduated there from the eighth grade.

World War II broke out December 7, 1941, soon after we moved to San Gabriel. That Sunday morning is still vividly remembered. We found out after Sunday School. I was playing with neighbor friends, and parents stayed close to radios all afternoon and evening. We knew something terrible had happened, but as children, we didn’t realize the magnitude of it. However, we accepted the unity in our country as young men began going off to war. Japanese friends in our school (including a favorite girlfriend) and their families were sent to camps far from home. We learned about rationing books and stamps for meat, sugar, shoes, and gasoline. There were War Bond drives, women working in defense plants, and shortages of rubber. Girls’ panties didn’t have elastic anymore, but string ties or buttons! Dad followed the news daily, and listened to Gabriel Heater on the radio each evening. (“There’s good news tonight!” he was often heard to say.) There were also “Air Raid Alarm” practices at school when, on signal of the school siren, we had to scrunch under our desks for “protection” until the “all clear” bell rang. Each block also had an “Air Raid Warden” and on certain nights, a signal meant all lights were to be out in homes as we huddled into our darkened hallway with all doors shut and lights out until the all-clear signal. The Warden, Mr. Fread, would walk around the block with his hard hat and arm band to check to see that all lights were out. This practice would last about an hour or less. It was common practice to see aircraft at night with search lights beamed on them. News of the devastation and ending of the war came in the summer of 1945. It was a relief.

My mother, Ruby Grace Lundquist Smuin, was born in Salt Lake City January 6, 1898. She was a gentle, loving and caring lady. All loved her. I remember Mom and the beautiful red rose bushes along the entire length of one side of our home in Eagle Rock. How she loved roses! She would mulch them, spray them with a little hand sprayer, prune them, pinch back buds to make larger blooms, and care for them so tenderly. On the opposite side of the lawn was her flower garden with so many beautiful flowers of all kinds. I especially remember the yellow cosmos and when they turned to seed, how intriguing it was to pull them apart, seed by seed. Also among the variety of flowers were her specialty of roses and sweet peas. There were tall, blue delphiniums, zinnias, marigolds, and even a row of beets and onions planted in between. It was always colorful. There were always fresh cut flowers in the house. Our small back yard had two apricot trees, with a swing in each one. It was shady in the yard and there was a spot for violets and mint. By the time I was 10, I knew the names of nearly all common flowers and shrubs.

My sister Marilyn wrote to my Aunt Mary Roberts asking what she remembered about my mother. This is what she replied: “I remember a few things when I was a little girl. Our dad died one night in his sleep. I heard Ruby say to Elsie, ‘He’s with your mother now.’ I couldn’t quite understand it, but that’s the way it was. I remember your mother loved flowers so. In Glendale, she saved the apple peelings to dig in under the rose bushes. She said it made them prettier with more color. Also once when I visited your family in Glendale your mother fixed me some fresh figs covered with a bit of cream and brown sugar. Needless to say, I loved the taste, and still do to this day. Clyde always said Ruby was the best one in the family. She always had such a sweet disposition.

“I remember your mother and dad had a breakfast or lunch after their marriage ceremony and it consisted of raw oysters. I could never understand why anyone could relish oysters. “These are a few things I recollect. Love, Mary”

We all remember Mom’s favorite place, the kitchen. What wonderful meals! Especially on Sunday, we came home from church to that tantalizing aroma of roast beef, mashed potatoes, rich brown gravy, and always fresh vegetables. Dessert was often sponge cake layered with raspberry jam and dusted with powdered sugar on top. Dad’s specialty was turning the crank for the freezer of homemade vanilla ice cream. Meals were not “fancy” but always delicious. Homemade bread, warm from the oven, after school was torn apart, smothered with butter and honey, and devoured in minutes. Company and holiday meals were memorable events. Everyone loved to come to our place for dinner. My interest and love for cooking began early and I learned a lot from Mom.

She always loved handiwork and made numerous crocheted items, and did cross-stitch and embroidery. She took night classes in basketry, lamp shade making, and decorative pillow making. She also loved to read, especially historical novels. She had many artistic talents. After we moved to San Gabriel in 1941, she thought about going back to work. She was a cosmetologist and started back to work when I was halfway through high school. She worked at the Del Mar Beauty Shop in San Gabriel, and a few years later became manager, and the owner of the business. All was going well until she began getting extremely tired and after work would just collapse at home. In 1952, it was discovered she had breast cancer. She continued to work at the beauty shop till nearly the end of her life. She died February 19, 1959. Her cause of death was listed as “adenocarcinoma of breast” and the last six months of her life, “metastatic cancer to lungs and liver.” She was 61 years old. I was with her at the end. She died in my arms. She was a wonderful mother; how I loved her and wanted to be like her.

My father, Franklin Smuin, was born in Ogden, Utah, September 11, 1893. He had been an accountant, graduating from Ricks Academy in Rexburg, Idaho. He served a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in the California Mission, and was honorably released September 10, 1917. Joseph E. Robinson was then President of the California Mission. On June 27, 1918, Dad enlisted in the United States Army as a Private of the 27th Casual Cantonment, Vancouver, Bks, Washington. He was honorably discharged from the service October 12, 1918, by reason of disability. While he served in the Army in World War I, he became deathly ill with influenza and pneumonia and nearly died. It affected his heart and his health the rest of his life. He received Disabled Veteran benefits for the rest of his life. (post-it note: $275 month pension for our dad)

He married my mother September 11, 1924, in the Salt Lake Temple. Soon after they were married, Dad became very ill with inflammatory rheumatism and was in the hospital for some time.

They moved to Glendale, California, and after a year or so, they decided to go back to Salt Lake by train. Mom was pregnant with their first child, and they found a home on Westminster Avenue, and Aunt Elsie lived with them. Glen was born, a beautiful little blonde baby, but at age 1½, had the misfortune to get a mastoid ear infection. He was operated on, and could not pull through. He died December 12, 1928. Soon after, they moved to California again. I was born January 14, 1930. Perhaps Dad was still saddened by the death of his first-born son and I filled some of the emptiness in his life. My sister, Joan, was born August 3, 1935. My father was a kind and gentle man and loved his family. I felt a warmth with my dad and we were close.

Glen Smuin b. 27 June 1927, d. 12 December 1928

My dad spent many hours at the library, reading and studying and was very knowledgeable about scientific matters and politics. I remember many heated discussions of political issues with Dad and my Uncle “Doc” Pugmire.

My Dad studied the scriptures and was a student of the Gospel. He wrote a treatise (or manuscript) called, The Divine Plan of Creation. He worked on this for many years but never saw it reviewed for publication. He became inactive in the Church when I was very young. I have never known why.

He was devoted to my mother and loved her deeply. He called her, “My Jewel.” When she was ill with cancer and became progressively worse, it was devastating to him and he became disturbed, eventually needing psychiatric care. For awhile, he was at Norwalk State Hospital in California. He was released just days before Mom’s death February 19, 1959. This was traumatic for him, and he died of a heart attack six weeks after her death. He was living with us in Reedley, California. Dr. Marden C. Habegger, our family physician, signed the Certificate of Death—“death caused by Acute Myocardial Infarction, instant—due to Coronary Sclerosis and Myocardial Heart Disease.” Also listed, “Diabetes 1 year, and Hypertension, 5 years. He died at age 65. No autopsy was performed. He was such a good man. I loved him.

My mother and dad are buried in Forest Lawn Memorial Par, Glendale, California, Los Angeles County, in spaces 1 and 2, Lot 722, Section, “Haven of Peace.”High school years were spent at Mark Keppel High School at Alhambra, California, during the war years of 1944-1948. My major was Commercial Art as I had been encouraged to pursue this by many earlier teachers along the way. Art classes were my favorite and I especially enjoyed commercial art and ceramics. Lester M. Bonar was my mentor and encouragement in continuing in the art field. In the 11th grade I won a 2nd place medal for a piece of terra cotta sculpture at the Carmel Festival of Arts for high school students in the State of California. That was probably the most notable award I received in high school. I belonged to many clubs and organizations, went to all the football games, and was in the Senior Play. I had many close girlfriends. I never dated in high school.

There was one teacher who influenced my future and that was M. Merrill “Doc” Thompson who taught horticulture and animal husbandry. I took classes in horticulture from him and became greatly interested in greenhouse and plant projects. He influenced me to go to the University of California at Davis and continue in this area. I planned on it, thinking I could combine any artistic talents with horticulture and have my own greenhouse and nursery and make ceramic pots and sculpture to complement it. This was my plan at the end of high school.

College years began at Pasadena City College to take college preparation classes I had missed in high school. Then it was on to U.C. Davis In 1950 to pursue my plans. After a semester at Davis I realized a career was not what I wanted. I became interested in elementary teaching and I changed my major to Education, taking the appropriate initial classes. College life at Davis was fun! The social life was great, dating and dancing were a regular part of the schedule, and I studied a lot more, becoming absorbed in the field of education. It was wonderful being away from home for the first time. Just weeks before the end of that year at Davis, I met Art, the “tall, dark, handsome dream.” After just a few dates I knew this was “the one.” We went on bike rides, to school events, and movies, and we were both in love.

When the semester was over I went on a six-week study trip to Hawaii and he went home to work on his parents’ farm in Reedley. In the fall, he continued his education at the University of Berkeley in Agricultural Economics and I transferred to the University of California at Los Angeles (UCLA), to continue in education. We visited each other on holidays over the next three years having a 2½-year “secret” engagement. We wanted to wait until we were out of college before getting married. During my college years I worked in a wholesale nursery propagating tropical plants, going home on weekends and holidays and working during summers. I financed my entire college education except for the first year. I loved UCLA and the classes and my apartment in Westwood Village I shared with Shirley McFedters (Hale), who became a very best friend. I was eager to be a teacher and graduated with honors with a B.A. degree in Kindergarten—Primary Education in June 1954.

Art and I corresponded for three years, making plans and sharing ideas for our upcoming wedding and future life together. Our love and commitment for each other was unwavering. How we longed for our wedding day!

Art and I were married June 26, 1954, in the Chapel of Roses in Pasadena, California. It was a simple civil ceremony with family and close friends. (Wedding financial statement here)The Bishop of my parents’ ward performed the ceremony and we recited to each other from memory the vows we had written:

“I, Grace, take Thee Arthur, to be my wedded husband; And I do promise and covenant; Before God and these witnesses; To be thy loving and faithful wife; In plenty and in want; In joy and in sorrow; In sickness and in health. Where you go, I will go; And where you lodge, I will lodge; Your people shall be my people; And your God shall be my God for as long as we both shall live.”

“I, Arthur, take Thee Grace, to be my wedded wife; And I do promise and covenant; Before God and these witnesses, To be Thy loving and faithful husband; In plenty and in want; In joy and in sorrow; In sickness and in health; Forsaking all others and keeping myself only and ever for you; Enfolding you in my love as Christ did His Church; Until God by death shall separate us.”

Following the wedding we said good-bye to our families for the two years we would be away. Art would be serving as a 1-W in Voluntary Service as Administrator of Brook Lane Hospital in Hagerstown, Maryland. I would be teaching 2nd grade, and a 3rd/4th grade in Hagerstown and Leitersburg for the next two years. After the wedding, we were off on a one-month honeymoon touring and sight-seeing across the United States. We visited Hoover Dam, Bryce and Zion National Parks, Salt Lake City, Yellowstone, and many points of interest as we traveled across the country. We didn’t have much money so sometimes we camped along the way and tried to find motels for under $5.00 a night. We bought our food in grocery stores and stopped for picnics under trees along the side of the road. We stopped in Pueblo, Colorado, to visit Art’s friends where he had worked for two years. We continued on to Hagerstown, Maryland, where we were to settle for the next two years.

We began our married life together at Brook Lane Farm I Hagerstown, Maryland. We lived at Lindenhof, an old farmhouse, sharing the downstairs with another newly-married couple. It was interesting getting to know many new friends and learn about the Mennonite people. Art was administrator of the mental hospital with a sustenance salary of $50.00 a month. My first teaching job in Hagerstown was $2,800.00 a year. The staff at the hospital planned many activities and it was a good experience being part of it. There were picnics, ball games, and holiday parties. I loved the beauty of the countryside, the thunderstorms, green hills in summer, fall colors in autumn, and snowy days in winter. That part of the country has a loveliness al its own. We took trips on holidays and vacations to New York at Christmas time, Florida at Easter week, and the fall colors and Skyline Drive on weekends. We tried to see as much of the area as possible. It was a good experience for us both.

After the two years at Brook lane we traveled to Europe with the money I had saved teaching. We traveled by ship, “The Arosa Star,” visiting Art’s relatives in Germany and taking trips to England, Scotland, France, Spain, Austria, and Switzerland. It was wonderful! We bought a used VW convertible for our travels and then sold it before we returned home. By then we were ready to settle down. We returned by ship from France to New York, then a bus to Maryland to pack up our 1951 blue Ford, which would now pull a red trailer (built by Art) with all of our accumulated belongings. And we were off for HOME at last!

We arrived in Reedley, California, October 1956, to live with Art’s folks for three months while we fixed up the Clifton Place, a 30-acre farm with an old run-down farmhouse purchased by Rudolf Laemmlen for us to buy and own as ours. We painted, wall-papered, and got some new inexpensive furniture. Our bed was a king-sized mattress put on wooden sweat boxes. We “made do” and improvised and were quite comfortable on our little farm. Art worked for his dad on the farm and we felt more settled all the time.

There was much hard work in those days without as many of the conveniences we have today. We got along. Just before Eric was born, we became active in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, after long visits and discussions with Wally and Frances Gray. I had been inactive many years, and became active at the time Art joined the Church. He was baptized May 5, 1961 by Oscar Cornwall and was confirmed by Wally Gray. It was a happy occasion. We were soon busy with church callings, meeting as a Branch in the Old Englehart School house in Reedley. The Church had its beginnings in this area in Dinuba in 1947 when five families met in a Sunday School in the Grange Hall in Dinuba. Soon it was divided into a children and adult class. In 1951, the branch became part of the newly formed Fresno Stake taken from the California Mission. Youth programs were added in 1952. In 1956, the old Alta School on Englehart and Dinuba Avenues in southeast Reedley was purchased and remodeled and used until 1969 when fire gutted the building. The three pianos were saved. Just prior to the fire, with growing pains, the Selma-Kingsburg Saints rented a Presbyterian Church in Kingsburg for their meetings. From 1969 to 1971, plans were made to construct a new chapel. Arden Hutchings Construction of Merced, California, was awarded the bid for $201,000 plus $30,000 for furnishings and the first two phases were constructed consisting of the chapel, multi-purpose room, Relief Society rooms, ten class rooms, foyer, storage closets and restrooms.

Because of the fire, the membership was permitted to occupy the building December 1971 prior to its being paid for which was finally paid for and dedicated on July 8, 1973, when all former Branch Presidents and Bishops attended and addressed the membership. But the church continued to grow through births, move-ins and missionary efforts. To the 8,000 square feet, 5,555 square feet were added as Phase III at a cost of $325,000. This addition consisted of a new Cultural Hall with stage, basketball court, library, kitchen, Relief Society Room, Seminary and Scout Rooms, classrooms, eight storage areas, carpeting, furnishings, an automatic sprinkling system, landscaping, and additional parking. It also included bringing the first two phases up to standards with the new.

This congregation was on of 8,000 in the world wide church numbering 4,000,000 at that time. In 1989-90 the ward building was completely remodeled and refurbished with new painting, carpeting and a new addition with offices and classrooms added to the east of the building. The new interior décor is a pleasing mauve and plum. We were so pleased with our new building! My first position in the church was teaching literature in Relief Society. Since then I have been a Primary Teacher, Relief Society President, Sunday school teacher, Den Leader, Den Leader Coach, Counselor in YW Presidency, taught the Teacher Development Basic Course, Social Relations and Spiritual Living Teachers in Relief Society and counselor in the Relief Society Presidency. My first Stake position was on the R.S. Stake Board over Welfare 1982-1986, and then I served as Counselor in the Stake Primary for 4 years. And of course~ always a visiting teacher. I love the Gospel and the opportunity I have had to serve in so many capacities. I have felt much spiritual growth over the years. When Eric was 2 ½ years old I returned to classroom teaching at Sheridan School in Orange Cove, teaching 2nd and 3rd grades for 7 years. Following that I taught a Teacher Development Class in Social Science at Fresno Pacific College. Then came my greatest teaching challenge when I was asked by Silas Bartsch to be a Demonstration Teacher at Cole Elementary in Clovis offered by Fresno Pacific College. I taught a third grade class with about 20-30 classroom teachers observing me teach my class during the 6 week summer sessions. I met with the teachers after class to discuss any problems or concerns of teaching that day. I really had to be on my toes, and I thoroughly enjoyed it!

Later I taught at Fresno Pacific College as an Educational Consultant as a supervisor of student teachers part time, for about 4 years. The total years I spent teaching were about 14 years. Nearly all of what I earned teaching went into the farm and building up our business. Over these years we seldom had a vacation. There was always so much work to do. Probably the most exciting project in our married life was building our new home in 1967-1968. This was our dream since before we got married and we planned and designed it and felt like we had “lived” in it for many years. It was quite a sight when the old farmhouse was demolished and came tumbling down to make room for the new home. We lived in a 30-foot mobile home under the walnut trees for 5 months, September to January, while the house was being built.

We celebrated Christmas in the new, unfinished house. Art and I secretly decorated a Christmas tree in the entry window, and set up the new ping-pong table in the family room. And what a surprise it was for the children to go to the new house on that very foggy Christmas morning to see the tree sparkling with lights and presents all around it! We moved in at the end of January 1968. Our new home was selected to be on a Community Home Tour that spring, and also later a Home Tour by Salmon’s Home Furnishings who helped with the decorating and the furnishings. Later came the landscaping with lawn at last, and the swimming pool in 1973. It was a comfortable and lovely home where much entertaining was done over the years. Youth parties were numerous as our children grew up.

My activities centered around the home, providing endless meals, canning fruit in the summer (often 350 quarts of fruit and jams and jellies), driving the kids to meetings, school activities, orthodontist, sports, music lessons, church activities, and attending nearly all sports events. The yard and garden were my great pride. I mowed the lawns and planted and weeded. How thoroughly satisfying and pleasant it was to look out over the neatly-mowed, trimmed, and watered yard and garden at the end of the day with the sweet scent of freshly-cut grass.

Our family gatherings centered around the holidays. When the children were small we went to Grandma’s house for Thanksgiving and Christmas. It was wonderful to walk into the two-story white farmhouse on a brisk day to the aroma of roast turkey and all the trimmings. And always pumpkin and apple-raisin pies for dessert. As the families grew and Art’s folks became older, we had special dinners at other family members homes. Each family brought favorite dishes and the food was always abundant. We had many happy times together as a family, and also many heated discussions!

Over the years I have had many interests and hobbies. I have taken night classes in adult school including cooking classes, history, English, watercolor painting, oil painting, portrait drawing, and other art classes. I have been in the Certificate Program in Graphic Arts at the University of California at Santa Cruz and I’ve taken many classes in graphics and calligraphy. I remember one class in illustration and drawing techniques where I spent one weekend sitting under bushes and shrubs in the arboretum at U.C. Santa Cruz sketching seed pods and leaves.

Reading has always been a special endeavor enjoying mostly non-fiction. I belonged to the Great Books Discussion Group for several years. Also, I enjoyed a gardening class at Reedley College for several semesters. Each student had a plot of land to plant and it was an informative class. When the children were little and they began Red Cross swim lessons during the summer I started lessons too with the other mothers while we waited for our kids. One year our “Housewife’s Swim Club” began the Red Cross 50-Mile Swim and I was the first of the group to finish, swimming one mile a day during two summers. 

One favorite activity was taking the kids to their swim meets, cheering them on, then stopping for hamburgers at Foster Freeze after the meet. Of course gardening has always given me much enjoyment. Travel has included taking Conklin business trips to Hawaii (twice), the Bahamas, and Florida. When Paul completed his mission in Spain in May 1979, Art and I met him there and traveled with him around Spain and then spent a short time in Germany with Art’s relatives. Art was Bishop of Reedley Ward at this time, serving as bishop from August 1978 to January 1983. He had also served on the High Council many years. At the end of Eric’s mission in Dec. 1982, Art met him in Germany and traveled with him before returning home. These experiences have been very enjoyable and I am grateful for the opportunities I have had to enrich my life. I am so proud of Paul, Ann, and Eric for each serving missions for the church.

Health Information Health in my early years was very good. The only diseases I remember were mild cases of measles and whooping cough. My tonsils came out when I was about five years old. I don’t recall any other serious illnesses until eleventh grade in high school when I had a bad strep throat infection and missed two weeks of school. I was also at that time I had my first dental work done, including orthodontia for one tooth that came in crooked and I needed to wear a retainer for a year or so. I remember no illnesses or problems through six years of college.

It was after marriage and living at Brook Lane Farm in Hagerstown, Maryland that asthma was a problem and I was tested for allergies at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore. Allergic reactions to dust, grasses, and molds showed up on the skin tests and I got antigen injections regularly for nearly two years while we lived there. After returning to Reedley the asthma continued and over the next years I saw many specialists, and had more skin tests with Dr. Samuel Ross in Fresno in 1961, and Dr. Leonard Price in Santa Barbara in 1972. More antigen injections, assorted inhalants, and, medications were needed. And I still had asthma, occasionally some serious attacks.

Dr. Enok Lohne in Fresno treated me during the 70’s and 80’s. Currently I am seeing Dr. Daniel Suchy, a pulmonary disease specialist in Fresno (1990-1991). Asthma is well under control with occasional use of inhalers and Prednisone. The most serious medical problem I’ve had began in February 1964 when I went to Reedley Hospital with pneumonia and a “heart condition” – doctors weren’t sure what it was. Dr. Habegger, our family physician said my heart was racing so fast he couldn’t get a count – it was in the 100’s. It was my second year teaching in Orange Cove and I missed seven weeks of school. The pneumonia healed, but from then on I had recurrent episodes of very rapid heart rate that left me, at times, quite incapacitated. Somehow I never missed much school because of it and I taught another eleven years. Several times I was in the hospital until the doctors could convert the rapid heart rate to normal with drugs. I was referred to many cardiologists over the years: Dr. R. Plenys and Dr. Eliason in Fresno, and Dr. Blaine Braniff at the Sansum Clinic in Santa Barbara. Some of the doctors felt the problems was caused when I had the pneumonia and at that time also had a viral infection of the heart muscle causing scar tissue which affected the area of conduction in the heart causing the irregular heart rate.

In January 1980 I attended a 28-day session at the Pritikin Center in Santa Monica. It was a cardiologist there who referred me to Dr. Marc Lee Platt in Torrance, a cardiologist with a specialty in heart rhythm abnormalities. From then on there was an aggressive mode to the treatment of the heart condition. Dr. Platt has taken great concern in the treating of this complex problem. Nearly every known heart medication has been tried, usually with terrible side effects. In April 1980 a multi-programmable pacemaker was implanted, many tests and more hospitalizations followed under Dr. Platt’s care. In the fall of 1988 I had a horrible reaction to the drug AMIODARONE which I had taken for 8 years with no known problems. This reaction was called “Amiodarone lung toxicity” and I was deathly ill and in the hospital two weeks – one week in intensive care. There was a long recuperation after that. After more drugs without helping, it became apparent to Dr. Platt that severing the AV node was indicated. This meant open heart surgery, which I had April 13, 1990. The signed consent for surgery and the operation stated: “DISCRETE PERINODAL CRYOBLATION OF AV NODE RE ENTRANT TACHYCARDIA, COMPUTERIZED MAPPING OF AV GROOVE, POSSIBLE CLOSURE OF ASD, POSSIBLE TRANSFUSION OF BLOOD PLATELETS.”

Also at the time of this surgery a new Activitrax multi-programmable pacemakers by Medtronic was implanted “as back up in case it would be needed.” It was not programmed at that time. Recovery from the surgery went exceptionally well and there were no problems until the end of that year when I started getting a rapid heart rate again. A new procedure to correct this was done March 15, 1991. It was non-invasive cryoblation and I was in the hospital overnight. The procedure was done in the catheterization lab. The pacemaker that was implanted the previous year at the time of the open heart surgery was programmed and I am now 100% dependent on it.

Since that date I have experienced no abnormal heart rhythm. I t is now August 1991 as I write this. The only other significant medical events were a hysterectomy in September 1982, surgery for adhesions in colon in January 1986, and a fracture of the right tibial sesmoid, in April 1988 after which I hobbled around in a walking cast for 6 weeks. A greater description of each of these events is found in my personal journals.

There are two more experiences I would like to relate. The first experience occurred in June or July 1975. From my notes dated Sunday August 3, 1975, I wrote that brother Lee Swonger and brother Kent Tyler administered to me about 1 a.m. that night before I went to the emergency room of Reedley Hospital. I vaguely remember the hospital emergency room. My heart rate was extremely fast and I was gasping for breath. I think I “passed out” although I remember hearing voices and I was aware of people around me. Sometime later I was moved to a room. The clock on the wall showed a little after 4 a.m. and there were many nurses, technicians, and doctors al around my bed. As I lay there, I suddenly left my body and floated up to the ceiling near the corner of the room. I could see everyone around the bed very plainly, even my own body.

As I looked down at the scene below me I noticed the nurses with their high stiff white nurses caps that were worn in those days and that I could look right down into them and see their hair through the tops of those white caps. I noticed that I could see all of those people attending to my body, even those at the head of my bed and even behind it. I could not have seen all of this if I had been in my body. I thought how odd it was that they were so concerned. I could see the monitors and tubes and wires I was hooked up to and each person was busy attending to some procedure and they seemed to be working with a great sense of urgency. Someone in the room yelled, “cardiac arrest” I was fine and I wanted them to know that. I felt so relaxed and at peace as I watched them and their efforts at resuscitation. I distinctly recall Dr. Habegger saying, “She’s not going to make it. I’m afraid we’re losing her.” Yet I felt no fear, no anxiety, no pain. I was not the least bit upset or frightened. It was just a peaceful, tranquil feeling. I don’t remember getting back into my body. It was like I just drifted upward and was a spectator watching my body and all the people in the room then all of a sudden I woke up and was lying in the bed. The people in the room were, in comparison, where they had been while I had been out of my body, looking at it and at them. This whole experience was such a real thing, yet so indescribable, so far beyond human modes of perception and description.

I have never told another person about this experience, even though it is still just as vivid now as it was then. This experience has profoundly affected my views about death and its relationship to life. At times things have been very difficult in my life, but I am impressed, almost as if being reminded, that I chose to be here and I welcomed whatever would come my way- even the illnesses and pain, because it is necessary to have eternal joy. I have no fear of death but only of not accomplishing all that I need to do in this life. I know it is by the Power of the Priesthood that I am here today. Life is a precious gift and I am grateful for it.

The second experience took place in January 1977. I was at home alone watching TV that night and had sudden pain in the chest that left me so weak I could not get to the phone to call for help. Art came home about 2 hours later and took me to Reedley Hospital. Dr. Habeggar saw me immediately and I was in shock and perspiring profusely. There was no pulse and no blood pressure. My heart was beating fast and was extremely irregular. An IV was started and the heart rate converted to sinus rhythm, but was beating around 150 to 160 per minute. Dr. Habegger was able to reach Dr. Plenys, a Cardiologist in Fresno, who had treated me previously, and I was transferred by ambulance to St. Agnes Hospital with the IV running and with oxygen. Dr. Habegger’s DIAGNOSIS: “Apparently acute myocardial infarction and cardiogenic shock lasting 2 ½- 3 hours by the time she was in the hospital emergency room.” [(Dr. Habegger signed my father’s death certificate in 1959: “Death caused by acute myocardial infarction.”) I have been a complicated problem and challenge to every doctor who has treated me!]

Now, as I continue compiling this writing in October 1989, I am adjusting to a major turning point in my life. During the summer of 1987 Art and I mutually agreed to terminate our marriage. It was after serious consideration and counsel with Bishop Blackburn and Stake President El Ray Clarkson, and many years of professional counseling and therapy with Richard P. Berkson, M.D. of Visalia, CA that this agreement was reached. Connected with the whole process has been much pain- physical, mental, and emotional. There has been stress, struggle, fear, and worry- for the most part- from the beginning. What happens to marriages that begin with sincere love and a desire to be loyal and faithful and true one to another? In sacred promises in the Temple of the Lord we pledged our love and loyalty on to another for time and all eternity. How wonderful a thing is marriage under the plan of our Eternal Father, a plan provided in His divine wisdom for the happiness and security of His children.

There is no simple answer for what has happened; the consequences are disappointing. The remedy for all of this is not found in divorce. It is found in the Gospel of Jesus Christ. It is found in Repentance. It is found in the Golden Rule. There must be a willingness to overlook faults, to forgive, and then to forget. There must be self-discipline that constrains against abuse. There must be the Spirit of the Lord invited and worked for, nurtured and strengthened. There must be recognition that each of us is a child of God with a divine birthright. God is the designer of the family. He intended that the greatest of happiness, the most satisfying aspects of life, the deepest joys should come in our associations together and our concerns one for another as father, mother, and children. And yet, the decision was made. I have no regrets and no ill-feeling toward anyone.

There were many personal consultations with Bishop Blackburn and I felt a tremendous support from him over those last months in the decision that was made. I left the home place on October 10, 1987 to begin life on my own at Rio Reyes Apartment 1680 A in Reedley, CA. Full marital support began January 1, 1988 and the divorce was final on May 24, 1988.

The following Blessing was given to me by Bishop Blackburn January 6, 1988 as I began my first year on my own: Grace Laemmlen, in the name of Jesus Christ and by the power of the Holy Melchizedek Priesthood, I lay my hands upon your head and give you a special blessing. Dear Sister Laemmlen, you are now in the process of living by yourself for a period of time, which is a lonely time, and is a time for adjustment, a time of thinking, a time of setting priorities, and setting your life in order. Your Heavenly Father is mindful of this and is also mindful of the desire you have to not find yourself in this position in this station of your life. And He is desirous that you find peace and quiet and solitude. That you have time to do those things that are meaningful. You will now have more time to give service to the Church and to the Kingdom and help other people and to help your grandchild. That you’ll be able to find more time for the building up of the Kingdom. Our Heavenly Father knows through service we lose ourselves and we find Him. So look for things you can do to build the Kingdom… look for things that you can do to build the spirituality of your home and you family and yourself. Pray often to your Heavenly Father for counsel and advice. He will not leave you comfortless. As He has already bestowed upon you the Holy Ghost, hold those things in comfort to your soul and you will feel peace in your heart and you will feel safety in your little apartment, and you’ll know that the Lord loves you and that you are precious to Him. You have a great work to do here upon the earth and so look forward to the rest of your life rather than looking back without any type of remorse at all. Just look forward to progress and look forward to a meaningful existence and a meaningful life – a life full of service and happiness and the opportunities to serve the Lord where, as you serve mankind, you’ll serve the Lord. Our Heavenly Father will bless you that you will have health and strength; that this amount of money that you receive monthly will be sufficient because you’ll have the health and strength that you need now to go forth and not be burdened with worry; and that the anxieties that you have had in the past will no longer be part of your life so you’ll be able to feel better, stronger, healthier day by day by day. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen. Every time I read and ponder the words of this blessing I feel uplifted and strengthened. And so now I do look forward to the rest of my life and I do not look back with any remorse. I look forward to a meaningful and productive life and a life of service and happiness.

CURRENT THOUGHTS: As I continue this account it is May 1, 1991, and with pressing concerns upon my soul I met with Bishop Blackburn for a special Priesthood Blessing as I come nearer to a return to normal health and the anticipation of a new life. I know there is much ahead for me, I’m not sure just why, but I felt the need to talk to Bishop. In the many blessings I have had with Bishop Blackburn over the past few years it has been mentioned many times that I am to concern my life with the “Building up of the Kingdom,” and I am not sure just what that means to me specifically. Also, as is mentioned in my Patriarchal Blessing, “…you shall be a peacemaker in the home and even among groups. And many may marvel that you are able to bring calmness where firey and uncontrolled tempers and minds are exercised.” I feel this is important in my relationships with my own family to help bring peace and harmony to all of us. I feel a pressing importance to this. It is what I desire above all else at this time in my life.

So I went to Bishop Blackburn, we discussed many things, and then he gave me this blessing: Grace Laemmlen, in the name of Jesus Christ and by the power of the Holy Melchizedek Priesthood, I lay my hands upon your head to give you a special Priesthood Blessing. Grace, you are loved of the Lord. You’re a tremendous your woman who has great talents, who has much ability you are willing to share with those that you know and those that you don’t know. You’re willing to help those in need in showing by example that you love the Lord and that you are willing to do those things that He requires at your hand. At this time in your life you are still somewhat weak because of the medication that you’ve been on and the heavy drugs that were given to you to prevent the pain. Our Heavenly Father and I will bless you that you will be able to recover just as a recovering addict of any kind—it is possible and it is probable that you can. But in this instance that Lord will see that you recover rapidly. He will give you His Blessing and His Peace that He gives to those choice few that He loves so much. You will be able, as you find your strength and health coming back, to think clearly, make rational and good decisions, and you will be able to work with your family closely. You will enjoy the new experiences of Temple and genealogy work. Go to the Temple often. You need to avail yourself of that opportunity of sitting in the Temple and doing some work for those who have passed on. You need to do genealogy work and on occasion take some of the good sisters down with you as you go to the Temple and share with them this great experience of sitting in the House of the Lord and pondering some of the things that come before our hearts and into our minds. Our Heavenly Father will bless you that you will be able to fill the measure of your creation. You have many many many things yet to do upon this earth. The Lord has preserved you and has blessed you and has given you health and strength and has given the doctors the ability to do those things that are necessary to make the corrections in your life to give you this health and strength so that you can accomplish the great work that is still ahead of you. Our Heavenly Father will bless you with happiness, peace of mind, and contentment, and you’ll find great satisfaction in the things that you do as you Build the Kingdom, as you preach the Gospel through your example as well as your words. You’ll be able to find great joy in the work that you do for the Lord as he pours out His blessings upon you. There is no way that you are in need, nor I, nor anyone can be in debt of the Lord or have Him be in our debt no matter what we do. We will always be in His debt because of the great blessings that He pours out on us and He will continue to pour His blessings out upon you as you work toward Building the Kingdom and strengthening it. Our Heavenly Father will bless your family that you’ll be able to be the peacemaker, that you’ll be able to be the example and that you’ll be able to help each one of your children and your grandchildren to know that the family units are very, very important when it comes to strengthening each other and that as we go our separate ways as we tear apart the family we also hurt ourselves because we do not avail ourselves of the satisfaction and joy that comes to a family. So our Heavenly Father will bless you that you’ll be a great instrument in uniting and re-uniting the family to the strong family unit that it was and deserves to be. Our Heavenly Father will help you in all the things that you undertake to do because you will only undertake those things that are righteous. These things we promise you in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

Following the blessing came a great new challenge! I WANT TO GO ON A MISSION! I hadn’t actually thought about this before, yet it seems so right, so comfortable, and I have not been able to release the thoughts from my mind all evening. I have made the decision to “Build the Kingdom,” with whatever strength and ability I have. I KNOW IT IS RIGHT FOR ME! I know I can do it! The Lord “will bless me in my righteous desires.” Bishop Blackburn and I had a long talk. My thoughts SOAR! I feel such joy. It was Bishop Blackburn who first mentioned the challenge of a mission and I knew immediately it is the thing to do. The Lord will bless me and I will go! May 1,1991.

My Purpose in Life and Goals Over the years I have set personal goals in my life as a plan for self improvement. Mostly it had been a somewhat casual reminder to myself until I got a little more serious by writing down these goals. Then I started doing it once a year, usually in January for my plans for that year. Then instead of a new set of goals each year, I made a generalized plan which has been my goals for life, with flexibility and room for change, of course. Herewith, my Purpose in Life and short and long term goals:

MY PURPOSE IN LIFE Strive for excellence. Live a Christlike life of Love and Service Live Gospel Principles. Live with Compassion and Integrity with family and friends. Love and be loved. Contemplate Greatness. Express Creatively Seek after those things which are “…virtuous, lovely, or of good rapport or praiseworthy…” BE HAPPY!

My Goals Spiritual Read and study scripture regularly. Pray always. Strengthen and share testimony. Read Patriarchal Blessing often. List admonitions and blessings. Learn faith – promoting stories. Keep a journal. Complete personal history. Attend Temple regularly. Do genealogy. Magnify calling. Build spirituality in my home and family. SERVE A MISSION!

Intellectual/ Aesthetic Plan and undertake a reading program of uplifting and outstanding literature. Perfect interests and talents. Calligraphy – design greeting cards. Listen to good music. Improve reading and writing and vocabulary skills.

Physical Exercise regularly. Keep weight at normal level. Adhere to total spirit of the Word of Wisdom. Care for yard and garden. Always be aware and grateful for physical well-being.

Service Assist widowed, single, and those in need. Take the initiative to meet new people. Write to each ward missionary annually. Send personal notes at appropriate times.

Emotional Develop greater self-concept. Use positive thinking and affirmation skills. Forgive self and others. Feel and show gratitude and love. Be productive and happy.

Family Give service Be a loving mother and grandmother. Complete family projects. Be organized, efficient, and frugal. Be productive. HAVE JOY!

FINAL THOUGHTS Our mortal birth was not the beginning.  Death, which faces all of us, is not the end.  Life is eternal!  We are eternal beings.  We lived as intelligent spirits before this mortal life.  Our mortal life is part of eternity.  It is a place of temporary duration.  It is a place to learn obedience to the Lord’s gospel plan. “We must learn and learn again that only through accepting and living the gospel of love as taught by the Master, and only through doing His will, can we break the bonds of ignorance and doubt that bind us.  We must learn this simple, glorious truth so that we can experience the sweet joys of the spirit now and eternally.” –Pres. Benson I thank my Heavenly Father for the life and ministry of the master, Jesus the Christ, who broke the bonds of death, who is the light and life of the world, who set the pattern, who established the guidelines and who proclaimed: “I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.” – John 11:25-26. I am grateful for the assurance I have that life is eternal; I am grateful for the great gospel plan; grateful for the life, teachings, and sacrifices of the Lord Jesus Christ. “And then it shall came to pass, that the spirits of all those who are righteous are received into a state of happiness, which is called paradise, a state of rest, a state of peace, where they shall rest from all their troubles and from all their cares and sorrow.” Alma 40:12 Grace Helen Smuin Laemmlen 1991

Posted in Arthur & Grace Laemmlen Family, Family History, Laemmlen Family | Leave a comment

The Stock Market Crash of 1929–the Year Rudolf and Elsa Laemmlen Arrived in America

I’ve been reading a very interesting well-written memoir of stories written by a woman named Heidi Saarbach Laird, who grew up in postwar Germany as the daughter of a Jewish father and Christian mother in the aftermath of the Nazi reign of terror.  As I read the paragraph below, I immediately thought of my grandparents, Rudolf and Elsa Laemmlen, who left Germany in 1929 as newlyweds to start a new life in America.

If the men had survived the war, they and their families would then have lived through a deadly influenza epidemic in 1918, food shortages and chronic scarcity of essential resources, the ruinous hyperinflation of 1923, followed by years of political instability, the worldwide stock market crash of 1929, a number of attempted political coups, turmoil and unrest in the streets, and a series of short-lived governments failing in quick succession.  Along with a pervasive feeling of being unjustly and too harshly punished for Germany’s role in the Great War, these survivors had to wonder what kind of a world was waiting for their children.
The Frankfurt Kitchen by Heidi Laird, p. 88

Rudolf & Elsa Laemmlen were married in Grossgartach, Germany on Saturday, the 28th of September 1929.  Both had independently traveled to and lived in America as young adults, where they realized they could have a bright future. Departing for America on the 16th of November, they honeymooned for six weeks on a freighter ship called The Seattle, arriving in San Francisco on 26 December 1929 after crossing the Atlantic and sailing through the Panama Canal.

On the 29th of October, while preparing for their trip to America, the New York Stock Market crashed, ushering in the Great Depression.  Rudolf and Elsa’s hopes and dreams for earning financial independence in a new land met a different reality than expected.

In 1988, Grandpa Rudolf told me about his life.  Here is an excerpt from his story:

After experiencing America on his own as a young man from 1925-1928, Rudolf returned to his home in Grossgartach on a sunny September afternoon.  Except for the man at the depot, he didn’t see a single soul as he walked towards his home.  When he turned left on the street where he lived, he caught sight of a young woman coming diagonally across the street in a way that was beautiful.  He felt inside: “Here comes my woman, my bride.”  And so it was.  Her name was Elsa Schaefer.  In 1912, when she was seventeen years old, Elsa had traveled to America, where she found employment as a house maid.  She earned between $4.00 and $6.00/week, and later $15.00 in a grocery store.  Every month she sent $10.00 home to Germany to help her widowed mother.  Instead of using it to help pay for her pieces of land, her mother put the money in a bank.  It was all lost when inflation made the German money worthless in 1923.

In 1928-29 there was 30% unemployment in Germany.  After losing $500.00 to get the patent on a sugar beet topper someone else used, Grandpa took a 4-week tractor course near Berlin, and worked for a few months to save some money.

Elsa and Rudolf wanted independence.  Believing they could make it together in America, they married on September 28, 1929, and in November they set sail on a honeymoon cruise to America.  They left from Hamburg on one of the four German motorboats that went through the Panama Canal.  The Seattle was a freighter weighing 7000 tons.  It cost only $200.00 per person from Hamburg to San Francisco.  Stops were made in Antwerp, Le Havre, Southhampton, Trinidad in Venezuela, both ends of the Panama Canal, and in Los Angeles, before landing in San Francisco six weeks later, on the 26th of December, 1929.  Except for a wild mid-Atlantic storm with 30-foot waves, it was a wonderful honeymoon, one of the nicest anyone could ever imagine.

Grandpa remembers well his amazement when he saw the huge stocks of bananas in Panama.  A young boy offered to sell him a stock for 25 cents, Grandpa paid him 50 cents, and both were thrilled with the deal.

They landed in San Francisco at 11:00 a.m., and by 4:00 p.m. had purchased a reconditioned Model T Ford Roadster for $145.00.  They drove to Modesto to visit friends, then on to Sanger, where they stayed with good friends, the Hans Linshoefts.  After a few days, they found a 20-acre place to rent on Lac Jac Avenue.  They stayed two years.  After that, they rented the 27-acre Higgenbotham place, near Parlier for three years.  The land on these farms had not been leveled and irrigation was a back-breaking job.

Dried peaches were sold for 3 3/4 cents a pound, and raisins for $55.00 a ton.  They received $300.00, three times from Germany before no more money could be sent out.  With that, and with the money they earned, they were able to buy their present place from William Kreb for $8250.00 in November, 1934.

Here is part of an interesting explanation of what happened with the American economy at the time Rudolf and Elsa arrived in 1929 and in the years that followed:

Dr. Heather Cox Richardson is a political historian who posted this historical essay on Sunday, October 29, 2023:

On October 29, 1929, the U.S. stock market crashed. It had been rocked five days before, when heavy trading early in the day drove it down, but leading bankers had seen the mounting crisis and moved in to stabilize the markets before the end of the day. October 24 left small investors broken but the system intact. On Monday, October 28, the market slid again, with a key industrial average dropping 49 points.

And then, on October 29, the crisis hit. When the gong in the great hall of the New York Stock Exchange hit at ten o’clock, the market opened with heavy trading, all of it downward. When the ticker tape finally showed the day’s transactions, two and a half hours later, it documented that more than 16 million shares had changed hands and the industrial average had dropped another 43 points.

Black Tuesday was the beginning of the end. The market continued to drop. By November the industrial average stood at half of what it had been two months before. By 1932, manufacturing output was less than it had been in 1913; foreign trade plummeted from $10 billion to $3 billion in the three years after 1929, and agricultural prices fell by more than half. By 1932 a million people in New York City were out of work; by 1933, thirteen million people—one person of every four in the labor force—were unemployed. Unable to pay rent or mortgages, people lived in shelters made of packing boxes.

While the administration of Republican president Herbert Hoover preached that Americans could combat the Depression with thrift, morality, and individualism, voters looked carefully at the businessmen who only years before had seemed to be pillars of society and saw they had plundered ordinary Americans. The business boom of the 1920s had increased worker productivity by about 43%, but wages did not rise. Those profits, along with tax cuts and stock market dividends, meant that wealth moved upward: in 1929, 5% of the population received one third of the nation’s income.

In 1932, nearly 58% of voters turned to Democratic president Franklin Delano Roosevelt, who promised them a “New Deal”: a government that would work for everyone, not just for the wealthy and well connected.

As soon as Roosevelt was in office, Democrats began to pass laws protecting workers’ rights, providing government jobs, regulating business and banking, and beginning to chip away at the racial segregation of the American South. New Deal policies employed more than 8.5 million people, built more than 650,000 miles of highways, built or repaired more than 120,000 bridges, and put up more than 125,000 buildings. They regulated banking and the stock market and gave workers the right to bargain collectively. They established minimum wages and maximum hours for work. They provided a basic social safety net and regulated food and drug safety.

When he took office in 1953, Republican Dwight D. Eisenhower built on this system, adding to the nation’s infrastructure with the Federal-Aid Highway Act, which provided $25 billion to build 41,000 miles of highway across the country; adding the Department of Health, Education, and Welfare to the government and calling for a national healthcare system; and nominating former Republican governor of California Earl Warren as chief justice of the Supreme Court to protect civil rights. Eisenhower also insisted on the vital importance of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) to stop the Soviet Union from spreading communism throughout Europe.

Eisenhower called his vision “a middle way between untrammeled freedom of the individual and the demands of the welfare of the whole Nation.” The system worked: between 1945 and 1960 the nation’s gross national product (GNP) jumped by 250%, from $200 billion to $500 billion. . . .

*   *   *   *    *

Art Laemmlen holding Ann Laemmlen

I suppose it was a gift to be raised by a father who lived through these hard times. One of the themes in our family of today is “WE DON’T WASTE.” We clean our plates, we wear our clothes out, we prepare our own food, we avoid convenience stores or shopping for things we don’t need, we have a garden, drive cars until they die, we make do.
My kids think I raised them this way because of all the years I lived in Africa. The truth is, it’s in my blood, and I’m proud of that!

Posted in Ann Lewis Personal History, Family History, Laemmlen Family | Leave a comment

Höllstein, Home of the Degen Family

I have always wondered how the Swiss countryside looked where Elizabeth Degen’s family once lived.  What did she leave behind as a 14-year-old girl, setting off on a Grand Adventure to America?

In 1920, her son, Martin Benjamin Bushman wrote this tribute about his mother, Elizabeth Degen Bushman:

Elizabeth Degen Bushman
Written January 10, 1920, by her son,
Martin as a token of respect for his parents.

Elizabeth Degen was born September 12, 1802 in Holstein and Tacknais, (Baselland) Bazeland, Switzerland. She is the son of John Casper and Maria Graff Degen. She had been only four years old when her mother died at the birth of a sister born October 26 and was buried October 29, 1806. Therefore, she never had a mothers care, and love to guide her in her youth. One year later her father married Ann Maria Shaublin (Schaubline). Six children were born to this union, two died in Switzerland as infants.

She had a good education in her childhood, then she had to work for her own living.

In the fall of 1816, John Casper Degen took his family: Elizabeth, her step-mother, and her half brother, Frederick, and half sister, Anna Maria to America. They sailed from Ansterdam, Holland, in an old sailing vessel that was seventeen weeks crossing. They suffered much for food and water. The voyage was rough and they lost two of her sisters on board the ship and were buried at sea.

After arriving America, the trip being longer than they were thought, put them in dept to the caption. Elizabeth, then fourteen, was bound out for two years to pay the debt as a domestic servant, after which she continued to work to help provide for the family. She was a child of good character and strong will power and was able to work her way along in the community in which she lived. The experiences she got between the ages of 15 and 25 seemed to prepare her for her future life. At 25 she could read and write and speak the English language as well as her native language. She learned to cook and do all kinds of household work. She was also very handy with the needle. She was an expert with the spinning wheel and could spin the wool into yarn and the flax into thread ready for the loom. She could go into the field and bind up and stock the grain, at that age she was strong and healthy. She could milk the cows and make butter and cheese. They settled in Lancaster Co. Penn.

Here are Elizabeth and her siblings:
Elizabeth Degen (1802-1878) died in Lehi, Utah
Anna Maria Degen (1806-1806) she and her mother died after her birth in  Holstein
Anna Maria Degen (1808-1808) died in Holstein
Anna Degen (1809-1816) died at sea
Anna Maria (1810-1910) died in New Paris, Ohio
Friedrich Degen (1812-1891) died in Lancaster, Pennsylvania
Hans Jacob (1814-1814) died in Holstein
Salome (1816-1816) died at sea
* * * *

Today as we drove into her home village, my eyes drank in the rolling hills and forests and wooded areas.  They are probably much like they were 200 years ago.  I wanted to see what Elizabeth saw and what she left behind.

After visiting the church (see the previous post), we drove to the main street of town.  The street lies next to the train tracks.  The homes were old.  I wondered if these homes were there in the early 1800s.  After parking the car, we got out to walk along this street to feel this place.

This is the street we walked down after parking.

Here is what happened next, as recorded in my journal:

After thoroughly searching through the cemetery, we drove around a bit.  There was a main street, or Hauptstrasse with a Bahnhof and very old buildings. The town grew from there, going up the hillside.  We found a place to park so we could get out and walk along the main street.  We were about a block away.  As we approached it, a little old wrinkled lady walking with a cane came towards us.  There were no others in sight.  We approached her and John explained that we were visiting Holstein because my 3rd Great Grandmother was born here and we came to see her birth place.  The little lady had tan wrinkly skin and wore a sleeveless sun dress.  Her hair was white and whispy, with a touch of coloring in the ends, of a reddish-pink color.  She was quick to smile and engage with us.  I would guess she was near 80 years old.  
 
After we explained ourselves, she asked, “what was the name of your family?”  In Germany we told her “Degen.”  Her face lit up and she pointed to the old farm house we were standing NEXT TO.  She said, “This is the Degen Bauernhof.”  She told us Roger and Manuela Degen (Gassenbachweg 1, Hauptstrasse 37) still live there, but they were out of town right now.  
 
As she spoke to us, I wondered if she was an Angel sent to us from Elizabeth, to help us find her home.  It’s very possible that this home has been in the family all these years.  We will have to return to find out.
 
This is the Bauernhof (farmhouse that housed a family, farm equipment and animals).
 
Elizabeth Degen was born September 12, 1802, here in Holstein. Her father was John Casper Degen. Her mother died in childbirth when Elizabeth was four years old and a year later her father married again. Six children were born of this union. In the fall of 1816 John Casper Degen brought his family to America.  The family joined the church in Pennsylvania in 1840, after being taught by traveling missionaries.
 
This dear lady told us that the family lived here in this farmhouse (the barn was attached to the home) for many years, but as the village grew up the Degen brother of the 61 yr-old Roger thought it was getting “zu eng” (too narrow or tight/ crowded) so he moved his family up onto the hillside above the town where there was more room to farm and have animals.  They called the farm there Degen Eiche (that means oak).  She said if we asked directions from anyone up there, they would be able to point us to that farm.  We will have to return to do that, after I’ve done some more research on the family in Holstein.  I wonder if there are church records microfilmed. 
 
The home faced the main street, on a corner, with the barn behind it.  The doors of the barn were open and there were old things there–2 old wagons, one with wooden wagon wheels rimmed with iron, another wooden wagon with newer tires, but both old. In one of the windows on the barn side was a display of local honey for sale there. 
 
The whole time I was thinking, Elizabeth saw what I am seeing today.  That got to me.  There is something very connecting that happens in my heart when I see or touch something my ancestors saw or touched.  I wonder if there’s a way to find out if that was the home Elizabeth once lived in.  It’s likely.  These homes are old.  
 
The building now housing a bakery a block or two away had 1566 engraved into the door arch.  Another home said 1671 above the door.  I asked the old lady if all of these homes were here in the early 1800s.  She said, “of course!”   
 
We walked up and down that main street after thanking our dear little stooped friend.  She was delightful.  On the other side of the main street was the rail line and small train station (still used) and a creek running along the tracks.  There were homes behind the tracks and creek.  I took photos of most of the old homes along that street near the Degen home.  I kept thinking, “Elizabeth surely played here, and saw what I am seeing now!”  She was 14 when she left Holstein.  She would have remembered.  
 
I also thought about how difficult the journey to America would have been.  That was in the days of horses and wagons for transport and they were far from the sea.  I wonder how they traveled and how long it took them to get to a port.  I wonder what that trip was like.  We know that John Degen had to indenture Elizabeth to help pay for the journey.  That must have been so hard.
 
I loved being there.  I LOVED being there.  I loved it so much.  We need to return after I learn more about the descendants who stayed in Holstein.
 
Here are more photos of this Degen home and barn:

The barn door was not closed.  I looked inside and saw this old farm equipment next to the car parked there.

This is the south side of the Baurenhof:

This was on the east side of the barn:

This is the back side of the barn:

These photos are taken from the main street looking at the front of the house.

This is the back door to the home where the name was posted:

The dear little lady told us the the Degens living here now sell honey.  This little display was in their window:

After visiting with our little angel lady, we wandered up and down that main street and I took photos of the homes.  These homes were probably all there 200 years ago.  We found dates on the homes back to the 1500s.

This little stream runs across the street next to the train tracks.  The mountain side goes up behind the row of houses on this side of the street.

This is the neighbor’s home, next to the Degen home:

Looking north on the main street:

This home is dated 1671!

This home/now shop is dated 1566!

Here is the train stop for Holstein.

Walking back to our car:

The homes and gardens here are lovely.  I felt such peace here (and excitement at the same time).  I had the feeling of being in the right place, the exact right place.  I know it’s possible that the home we saw might not be exactly the home Elizabeth grew up in, but perhaps it is.  I will do what I can to find out.  Our angel lady seemed to believe that the home has belonged to the Degen family for as long as she’s known it.

At least today I know I saw and touched things Elizabeth saw and touched and that means the world to me.

The countryside as we drove out of town.  We’ll be back.

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The Church at Höllstein, Birthplace of Elizabeth Degen

 

From my journal:  From Zollikofen we drove about an hour through farmlands and towns, winding up into some mountains with towns on hillsides and in valleys. We were on our way to find Hölstein, the birthplace of my 3rd Great-grandmother, Elizabeth Degen. I was feeling excited all the way, more and more so as we got closer and closer. Holstein is in Basel land, up high in the mountains. All was green and fertile.

We followed the signs and our GPS to the little town, stopping first at a small old church we found there. We had no idea how large of a town we’d find, not sure what to expect. I hopped out of the car to go to the church while John looked for a parking place.

This Margarethenkirche dates back to the 1230. It has been remodeled in more recent years (1968) and is still used weekly, so the inside looked more modern and functional. It was small. 5-6 rows of benches with an aisle down the middle. Simple decor. A cross hanging on the white wall, simple stained glass windows. A table up front with a simple flower in a vase and a candle (I lit it). There was a organ loft in the back with a small pipe organ and a small rug and table at the back of the chapel for children with a few pictures on the wall.

 

I picked up a couple of pamphlets about the history of the church. Then John joined me and we walked through the small cemetery behind the church. I didn’t expect to find any DEGENs there, but we Did! There were several. We went up and down every row, reading each headstone, photographing any with the Degen name. It was exciting to see that family members still live here. I am excited to look at what descendants might be in FamilySearch. This might be a fun project!

    

How tied I already feel to this place, where blood of my blood is found.  We will need to return after I do some research to find who is still living here.  My heart is excited.  I am seeing things Elizabeth saw.

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Jack and Boyd Smuin Exploits at Utah Lake

This photograph is of John (Jack) Smuin, Boyd Smuin, Henry Wayne Thomas and Howard Thomas.

Newell Turner told of his exploits with the Smuin Boys. It is a great story.

Me, Jack and Boyd Smuin went fishing on Utah Lake. We had built a fire to do a bit of cooking. While we were tending our poles the fire spread. When we noticed it, we tried to put it out. Jack found some boards shaped in the form of a cross. Like the one Jesus was nailed to. He tried to put the fire out by beating it with the cross. Boyd and I had grabbed some wet gunny sacks and began beating the flames. The grass was two dry and it got away from us. We took off and headed for town. As we looked back we could see more and more of the lake shore being burned. Lots of black smoke from the bull rushes. As we got closer to town we could hear the fire sirens blaring. You could see smoke filling the whole of Utah Valley. It burned all that day and into the next. No one knew that we did it, but I guess it’s OK if I tell it now.

John O’Rourke Smuin (1915-1989)

Jay Boyd Smuin (1916-1991)

This story was shared on the Lehi Historical Society and Archives Facebook page by John Knollin Haws Jr. on December 13, 2015.

 

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My Dear Sister Marilyn by Grace Helen Smuin Laemmlen

Grace and Marilyn Smuin

  
The first recollections I have of my sister was visiting the hospital after she was born, August 3, 1935, but having to wait outside. It was exciting, though, and I remember running up and down our block in Eagle Rock telling all the neighborhood friends. There was a crib in my parent’s room and a table with stacks of neat little baby things on it. I got a new rubber baby doll named Margie and Mom made lots of doll clothes for her. I would wash the clothes and iron with a real iron sometimes til the scorched (I can still smell it), and then lay them all over the sofa until they were dry, and then pile them in neat stacks. Dad would sing the song, “Margie”, to me.

As Marilyn grew up there were “tea parties”, birthday parties, and fun with the neighborhood kids. We walked to San Rafael Elementary School together when she was in kindergarten, down the alley to the big boulevard where we went through the tunnel just before getting to school. The kindergarten had a separate play yard and I would drop her off there. We walked home at noon and had a hot lunch waiting for us.

We moved to San Gabriel in October, 1941 and on the first night there Marilyn was sick and the next morning Mom walked to a neighbor to try and find a doctor to go to for help. Aunt Helen was with us.

We both went to McKinley Elementary School. She walked home at noon and Dad had lunch ready for her. As I remember it was usually peanut butter and honey blended together for a sandwich (crusts cut off) and a stack of soaked carrots.

She found many playmates on our block, especially the Fread’s, whom I babysat. I remember one day when they were all playing together I thought Marilyn was so pretty she should be in the movies. She had a natural poise and beauty at an early age. We played together, yet mostly had our own groups of friends. Our relationship was not without rivalry! There was much teasing, chasing, even jealousy. But somehow we got along and had a happy home life. Separation helped that, I guess. I graduated from 8th grade and went on to Mark Keppel High School, Pasadena City College, and on to UCLA. She followed along after me but we were always a school behind each other. I think secretly she looked up to me, and I was proud of her. As we grew older, we became very close.

While at Pasadena City College in 1955 she was chosen Tournament of Roses Queen to reign over the 66th Annual New Year’s Pasadena Rose Parade. “It was like a childhood dream come true”, she said. “It helped me set some standards for myself. I have always wanted to maintain the high dignity that the Tournament of Roses Organization is known for. It was also helped me quite a bit in meeting and talking to people. I’m naturally shy, and this has helped me get over that… It’s a very festive time. I think of it as a meeting of a very select club – we can only admit one new member a year.”

As Marilyn was reigning in all her majesty and glory, I was married by then to Art Laemmlen and we were in New York City at the very time of her Big Day, on vacation with some friends and having lunch at a small Italian restaurant and watching the whole event on a black and white TV! Everyone in the restaurant knew it was my celebrity sister and we got a lot of attention, even the stray cats wandering around!

Soon after, Marilyn found the man of her life Well F. Martell, a dental student at USC. They fell in love, courted, and were married 21 December 1955 while they were both in college. Marilyn was completing her studies in UCLA where she became an honor graduate and on the Dean’s List. She obtained her Kindergarten-Primary Credential.

After graduation, Wells began his dental practice in Oxnard and Marilyn was a kindergarten teacher in the Oxnard Unified School District. They were both busy with church activities and soon children came along. Over the years they had five beautiful children: Cheryl Lynn, Robert Wells, David Mark, Debra Sue, and Steven Paul.

It was in the 70’s that Marilyn’s favorite pastime, cookie making, turned into a MAJOR hobby and competition including baked goods of all kinds and confections, which she entered in the Venture County Fair. Twice she walked off with the Sweepstakes Awards in 1972, winning 27 ribbons; 16 were first place. Again she won Sweepstakes in 1974. Then she served as food judge at the Fair.

In 1975 she won 20 ribbons and Best of Show Award which entitled her to the Sweepstakes Award at the California State Fair in Sacramento. This was the entry she just had to be most proud of. It was a Bicentennial theme, a one-gallon clear glass jar, filled with six kinds of cookies, all in red, white and blue. Using egg yolk paint, she decorated some with a Bicentennial emblem. The jar was festooned with red, white, and blue ribbons. It was truly a MASTERPIECE!

Baking the items in her luxurious kitchen at home was one thing. ( I can’t imagine doing it at all! It makes me feel weary just to think about it!) Getting the finished products to a show hundreds of miles away, in perfect shape, is quite another. Entries had to be specially boxed for the flight to Sacramento, and even required two extra seats on the plane to hold the long, heavy boxes in which the entries were packed. They also had to have extra long seat belts installed to enfold the boxes. “They went for half fare.” Marilyn giggled.

In 1976 Marilyn was proudly awarded the Sweepstakes in baked goods and confections at both the State and County Fairs. In 1977 and 1978, she won State Sweepstakes in baked goods and confections.

Posted in Ann Lewis Personal History, Smuin Family | Leave a comment

History of Wesley Palmer (m. Lilian Bushman)

From the book, “Pioneer Men of Arizona,” by Roberta Flake Clayton, pp. 376-381 Compiled by family members and from family records. Wesley Palmer, a blue-eyed dark-brown haired, first-born of his parents, Alma Zemira and Alzada Sophia Kartchner Palmer, spent his first two years in Panguitch, Utah, although he was born at Beaver, Utah, 24 of July 1875.

Shortly after his birth President Brigham Young began to organize large companies of saints with the instructions to leave their homes in Utah and establish settlements through Arizona and other intermountain areas. Therefore, he accompanied his parent to settle the northern part of Arizona in 1877. The method used by the Palmers to travel to Arizona was two covered wagons and three teams of oxen. The journey was long, and there were times of danger. Wesley had no recollection of their first location known as Taylor, but he remembered well the day their wagon entered Stinson Valley (later known as Snowflake) for he received a spanking for dangling his feet in the water and tall grass as he sat on the wagon tongue. This was Wesley’s home during the remainder of his childhood and young manhood.

One day at snowflake, when Wesley was just a little fellow, he was playing with his homemade lariat, when he found a snake and became enchanted with his peculiar song. Somehow he was successful in lassoing it. He was so elated over his success that he ran toward the basement steps to show his mother. His Uncle Mark Kartchner was at the top of the steps when he saw the spectacle. He screamed at the boy to “drop the rope.” No one was hurt.

There was a cow named “Pide,” who startled for Wesley one day, but his mother seeing this, put out her apron to attract her attention, thus allowing Wesley to escape in time. Another early experience recorded was when Wesley tried to walk home, crossing the street kitty-corner with a blanket for a blindfold, but he only ran into a prickly pear, cactus. He and his mother spent some time plucking out cactus thorns.

Wesley started his schooling at the age of five, and some of the teachers were: Jesse N. Smith, Jr, Annie, Kartchner, Charles Flake, Della, Fish, Smith, and Joseph W Smith. School was held only during the winter months, and the children were not needed for planting and harvesting. He completed what they called the eighth reader, which included reading, writing, and arithmetic, and grammar, if they chose. He loved school, and at the age of 12, was able to spell down all of his class, and many of the older classes, among the words he remembered, spelling was “compatibility.” He attended Snowflake Academy for two years, which was then held in the old Amusement Hall. In 1895 he was called to take the MIA course at the Brigham Young Academy in Provo, which he enjoyed, and was glad he accepted this opportunity.

Like most pioneer children, he had many duties, among them, milking cows, feeding, cattle and horses, chopping wood, assisting in the adobe making and other work of constructing of their own houses. Yet there was time for fun. Wesley recalled the Religion classes, games, winding the Maypole, checkers, running games out over the hills and dells between Snowflake and Taylor, and especially baseball, which he loved. He became long winded, and was able to run at great lengths. There were also patriotic services on the 4th and 24 of July, when the whole town would celebrate with speakers and reading of the Declaration of Independence. Winter brought the exciting fun of ice skating on the reservoir. Swimming was a sport enjoyed, especially so for Wesley. The Silver Creek provided the water necessary to survive and plant crops. His early memories and experiences were interwoven and closely associated with it.

The following poem was written by his son Newel V. Palmer for an occasion in Wesley‘s life, at the age of 86, when the Maricopa Stack Sunday Evening Conference program honored he and his wife at “this is your life.”

The Silver Creek Dare Devils

The Silver Creek was swollen
From melting snow and pounding of heavy rains.
Not only on her banks,
But on many of the upper drains.

The water was very muddy
And madly rushed on its way,
Right by Snowflake,
Where three boys wanted to play.

Now it was March the twenty-first
And the weather – it was cold.
But Elisha, Sam and Wesley
Were growing very bold.

To swim the swollen and angry stream
Is just what they did, I am told.
Thru the sticks and trash and clay, they swam
To the eye, their naked bodies looked
Like dark mold.

They all were very good swimmers
And safely each one came through,
But no doubt, he will agree with their parents
That guardian angels watched carefully over them too.

Wesley was not yet 19 when he first met the love of his life, Lillian Bushman, and she was the girl he told his brother he “would mary someday,” after seeing her for the first time. When with Lezli living in snowflake Snowflake and Lilian 42 miles away in Saint Joseph and with transportation as it was in those days, it was a bit discouraging. However, with the help of stake conferences and other occasional church activities and freighting trips, which Wesley bent considerably off the regular course, he managed to cultivate the fine acquaintance of this lovely lady.

One time when Wesley went to court Lilian at Joe city, he, Parley, Will and Ezra Richards, Niels Hanson, and some other boys in town, fixed their bed carefully on the hay, up in the loft in the barn, where they intended to sleep after the evening’s entertainments were over. Wesley left the group first, to go over to the Bushman‘s. He was hardly out of sight, went at the suggestion of one of the boys, they piled empty, honey, cans, high against the inside of the barn door in such a way that they would fall at the slightest movement of the door. They all planned when the evening was over to enter through the stables and climb up to their beds by that approach, then, when Wesley came to bed, he would shut up in the barn door, and the cans would fall, make a terribly big noise and embarrass him, and they would all know what time he came in. Besides, Wesley was an out-of-town boy going with one of their local girls. Later that night, when Wesley approached the barn, I was quiet and thinking to be considerate, and not disturb his sleeping friends, he entered by the corral and climbed up through the stables and was soon fast asleep. Considerable time, lapsed, when all of a sudden the cans, commenced to bang and tumble in every direction. All raised up to have a good laugh at Wesley. But low, it was not Wesley at all. The Richard boy who had originally made the suggestion had stayed out even later and thinking that surely “Wes” had already come, and that the cans had already fallen, shoved open the door himself, and the cans were piled around him.

These visits to St. Joseph became more frequent until their friendship developed into courtship and true love. When Wesley asked Lilian and she consented to marry him, he also asked her father, Bishop John Bushman, who made this interesting entry in his diary that day. “Sunday, July 5, 1896, Wesley Palmer asked for Lillian, and, my daughter, in marriage. As we know his parents, we can have no objections.”

Since the great Salt Lake, Temple had been dedicated by this time, Wesley and Lilian in a group of eight young Arizona couples, made the long journey to Salt Lake City, mostly by team and wagon. They took the train from Panguitch. They were married October 8, 1896 by John R Winder, and lived together for 67 years, lacking seven months. The Palmer’s first home was in the house at Snowflake, where they first had first met, and their first child, Preston, Wesley was born there, November 24, 1897.

They moved next to St. Joseph, Arizona, where they participated in church, auxiliary leadership positions, and in the community throughout theatrical plays. Wesley‘s occupation there was a cowboy. He became well accustomed to wearing boots and spurs, Levi’s, and a ten gallon hat. He knew well, the tendencies and problems of the cattle on the range, and was considered a first class cattlemen. While living here, they lost two infant children in death, John and Mary. Three girls were born into the family here: Letty (Bates), Marie, Horne, Sarah, Collinwood. Here Wes also made adobes for the town’s homes.

Their next move was to Taylor, where they brought bought a home and some farm near the banks of the Silver Creek. Here they witnessed the floods, which sometimes came into their houses, and at one time, the big bridge near their home was washed out and settled on their property. The family prospered, and shortly Wesley added to his possessions a homestead of 160 acres high in the beautiful pine timber, country of the Sit Greaves National Forest, at Heber, Arizona. Wesley drove mail from Holbrook to Heber, his first mail route for Uncle Sam.

While living on the east side of the creek, twin girls, Vera, Murphy, and Vira, deceased; and two boys, Newel V. And Lehi B. were born. Wesley had been gone for a few days to his ranch at Heber, which is about 30 miles southwest of Tayler. He came back into town on horseback, as he was approaching the house. He met, Anna Nelson, midwife, and nurse of the town. Immediately and with deep concern, he asked how his wife was getting along. And in all due soberness nurse Nelson looked at him, then, pointing her finger at him, she said, “Wes, you ought to be ashamed of yourself, going away and staying like this. Young man, just for that it serves you right, you’ve got twin girls.” Wesley slid off his horse as if he had been shot.

Son, Newel recalls his experiences with his father at the time Wesley hauled freight from Hollberg to Taylor with team and box wagon. They would stop at night wherever dark found them on the prairie, and hitch and cobble, and put the horses to graze, build a campfire, eat their food, then sleep together out in the open under the stars. The sudden, loud whistle of the train caused young Newel to jump and turn under the covers. He turned to the west where the noise came from, but his father explained, it was only the echo that he heard in that direction, Because the railroad tracks and the train are both to the east of them. He looked into the sky and saw as plain as day, it seemed, the moon speeding past the clouds on either side, but his father said, “no, actually, the moon is completely still, ‘tis the clouds that move as the wind blows them. “Many times when occasion was appropriate, while the iron was hot, Wesley taught important lessons, and principles of right, and truth.

Farm land was very limited in Taylor and Wesley was extremely fortunate when he purchased an additional 30 acres there. They sold their home by the creek and built a large brick house to accommodate their growing family. Lois (Allen) and son Merle were born in this house located west near the cemetery. However, due to Lilian‘s poor health, they sold their property in Taylor and moved to Mesa, Arizona, in 1921 with the hopes it would improve her health, which it did.

In the Salt River Valley, in 1921, cotton was selling for a dollar a pound. Farmland was extremely high, but Wesley made a large payment on 20 acres of land east of Mesa. From their new home and conveniences in Taylor, they moved to this farm of dry cotton stocks, with only tents and one small room in which to live while adobes were made for a house. The epidemic of typhoid fever was rampant throughout the valley, and at one time all were sick in bed, except daughter Sarah. Many died from the disease, but all members of this family slowly recovered their health again. It was in this small one room house their 13th child was born Ula (Julian).

Then, as though it were just overnight, they became subject to that national epidemic known as the depression of the 1930s. They lost their equity in this farm and their property and Taylor, as their debtors of Navajo County were unable to meet their agreements. The family was about to succumb to discouragement, when a real estate man offered them a 40 acre farm in the greater area in Mesa, the northwest, stringtown district, and good ole Alma ward. This businessman required no down payment of the Palmers, thus like many others they started the slow financial claim again, with prayer and faith. Wesley was never a quitter, and with his three young sons, and Preston, who just returned from a mission, they began farming and building a dairy herd.

There were no specialists to give training concerning the better procedures of rearing children, no magazines to turn to for helpful ideas, only the teachings of the Bible, the church, and his faith in a Supreme Being. With adversity to spur him on this wise man continued his excellent methods, fine judgment and wisdom to guide and teach his children, which is carried into their homes and communities where they now live. Thus has this man and his descendants contributed to building of Arizona.

When Wesley was about 50 years of age, he lost the site from his right eye. While in the corral milking cows, a heifer, with sharp horns raised her head quickly piercing his eye. The medical profession available in Phoenix at the time could not save the sight. He showed his strength of character to his children, by exemplifying, here his lifelong teachings, not to cry over every little thing, but to overcome handicaps, and without complaining, continue on bravely. This accident did not prevent him from any activities previously enjoyed, including driving his car on many trips after that time. He obtained a chauffeur’s license and even accepted a job with Uncle Sam. A second mail route, this time from Mesa to Mormon, Flat Dam, Tortilla Flats, and back. In his late 70s Wesley drove mail and supplies again, this time for Falcon Field, an English Air Force Base, near Mason during World War II.

Wesley loved a good time, but baseball was his favorite sport, and like his own mother, loved to dance. His daughters were always honored to be asked to have a dance or two with him, as were his sons pleased to have a dance with his aged mother, up to just prior to her death at age 78. Wesley and Lilian enjoyed their family. There were picnics, trips to the mountains, visits to aunts and uncles, friends, 4th and 24th celebrations. he also liked to tease and enjoyed a good joke on someone. He was deeply interested in the science of genealogical research and made various trips through the U.S. and Canada in search of records.

Not only was it Wesley‘s privilege to help lay brick, and the beautiful terra-cotta which adores the outside of the Arizona temple, but he spent over 20 years as a set apart worker, and a little over three years as a guide of the temple grounds. Wesley also found time to give over four years of missionary service to his church, and lead an exemplary life, and served in various positions, generally with the youth; and was always faithful to his wife, family and church.

Not only did Wesley and wife pass the milestone of their 50th golden wedding anniversary, but their 60th and 66th. They’re posterity and friends pay tribute to them for the righteous lives and held enjoyable celebrations in there on her at these times. Wesley Palmer died March 19, 1963, at Mesa, Arizona, and was buried in the City Cemetery.

Posted in Bushman Family | Leave a comment