Lloyd Wells Barker was the son of Rufus Orrin and Ella Isadora Bushman Barker. He died at age 11 of chronic heart disease. Here is the little we know about this little boy.
From The Autobiography of Ella Isadora Bushman Barker (1884-1956)
On March 8th, our sixth child was born, another boy, but so cute. [Wells] He had red
hair. He just seemed like a little angel from heaven. He was born while the children were at school. Someone told Gladys that she had a little baby sister at home. She ran all the way home. When she found out it was a boy, she cried like her heart would break and would not look at him. She soon was loving him like the rest of us. That spring we sold our home in town to Melgaard and moved up to the farm. Orrin said if we made it on the farm he would have to get some chickens. We had always like having some. We had our cows and we had tried pigs, but with not much success. That summer he wanted to use his homestead right on some land over west of Hilltop. Grandpa was going to take him to Salt Lake to file on it. Grandpa found out that another fellow was going on the same day. When he came up, we left the children with Goldie and Clara and took Wells, the baby, with us.
I’ll take time now to tell what a time we had naming our baby. We had run out of
names. We had had too many boys. All our friends and relatives wrote a name on paper. We put them in a hat and drew for a name. Every time Orrin or I did not like it and we would have to draw again. At last we took Lloyd Wells, but I never did like it very well.
The winter before Eugene was two, Wells had pneumonia very bad. We were still out
on the farm when he took sick. We sent for Doctor Rigby. When he told us what it was we
could hardly believe it. We had Ann Vance come up to help me. Doctor Rigby told me to bath him off every two hours. We did that the rest of the day and all night and until about noon the next day. Then something seemed to tell me not to do it any more. I knew every time I listened to that prompting I was better off, so I told Ann we would not bath him any more. She was very angry with me and said if I was not going to do what the doctor told me to do there was no use for her to stay. I asked her to stay the rest of that day, anyway.
It was not two hours after we stopped bathing him until his fever broke and he went
cold all over and for twelve hours we kept him wrapped in hot blankets. Ann knew then that I had been prompted to act as I did. I know the Lord will help us if we listen to that still small voice.
In the winter Wells had another hard sick spell and the doctor said that his heart was
very bad. It was hard for me because I knew just what it was to have a bad heart. He was so full of life and it was hard to hold him down.
In the spring we moved back on the farm and Gladys and Hugh stayed at our place in
town. Don, Wells, and Gene spent many happy hours together on the farm. They had a trail up through the cedars and almost every day they would go up through the cedars. But Wells got so he could not keep up with the other two and he would come back and sit down somewhere near me and say, “I love you, mother dear.” It was very hard for me to smile at him, knowing how he was feeling.
Bazil came down and wanted Don to go back with him to Park City so we let him go
and Gene stayed around close to the house to play with Wells.
One day Orrin took Wells and Gene over to the dry farm, twelve miles from the farm
and was going to stay a week, but Wells took very sick and he brought him home. His face was all swollen up and he could hardly see out of his eyes. For thirty-five days and nights we fought for his life, but lost and on August 21, 1926, he was still and free from pain. The Lord had taken him home. Through all those thirty-five days Orrin and I never took our clothes off, only to bath and put clean ones on. When we could see that he would not stay with us Hugh went to Park City for Don. He was to come back the next day but when he got there he came right back and arrived at the farm at six a.m., the morning before Wells died. Wells heard the car coming and he said, “Here comes Don.” I told him Hugh could not be back that soon but he said, “Well, he is” and he was. I will never forget the look between those two pals. I had always dressed the two boys alike and as soon as Gene was old enough, the three dressed alike.