The saddest chapter in the great Mormon exodus during the twent y years they

were crossing the plains with ox and horse teams from the Missouri River to

Salt Lake Val ley, occurred in 1856, when several thousand people traveled by

~ndcart across the plains to Salt Lake City .

Three companies arrived without serious trouble. Two arrived In the

val ley, on the 26th of September and a third on the 2nd of October. Two more

companies were sti I I on the plains. They were In charge of James G. Wi I I ie

and Edward Martin.

The Wi I I ie Company had left Iowa City on July 15th with 500 souls, 120

carts, 5 wagons, 24 oxen and 45 beef cattle and cows.

The Martin Company started from the Missouri River on the 22nd of August,

with 500 people, 146 carts, . 7 wago9s , 30 oxen and 50 beef cattle and cows .

Early snows overtook these two companies and they suffered terribly with

cold and hunger.

A company of returning missionaries had passed these sufferers and had

taken word to President Brigham Young that they were caught in the snow in

Wyoming. He at once adjourned the October Conference and asked for twenty wagons

loaded with provisions, bedding, and clothing to be ready the next morning at

nine o'clock to start to meet the emigrants in their trouble. \~Ith four good

mules hitched to each wagon and a good driver and a helper to each, they

started on their journey of mercy on the 7th of October.

They met the \~ i I lie Company I n the Sweetwater River where they had been

forced to camr with no provisions. On the night of the arrival of assistance,

fifteen of the company died and were buried in one grave in the snow.
 2

James Laird, my grandfather, helped dig that grave with but very little

strength. For five days he had I ived on sl ices of rawhide cut from the

tops of his boots. Not so ski I led in curing of leather in those days, some

food value was -left. Another time when they had but a half bushel of wheat

left, he gave hi.s share to his beloved wife, and his two kidd ies. She
,yo£U'\4~ t-
nursing a three month old baby. The ~ - one of those kiddies was my father.

Grandfather often said it was the blessings of God that enabled him to pul I his

handcart a thousand mi les, walking every step of the way, witnessing the many

thri I I ing scenes and much suffering that accompanied that journey.

Imagine, if you can, the joy the the poor sufferers at seeing their

rescuers arrive. They had been out of provisions for forty-eight hours.

The rescue company did al I in their power to save the I ives of those who were

sti I I- al ive, then some of them hurried on to the Platte River to assist the

Martin Company who were in a worse condition than those whom they had found.

Teams and provisions were continually being sent out from Salt Lake City

to assist in bringing in the survivors.

Capt. ':Ii II ie's Company arrived in Salt Lake City on November 9th, 1856

having lost eighty-eight of their number on their journey.

The '-1artin Company were found encamped at north Platt as they cou Id

go no further. Their campground became a veritable grave yard before help

could reach them. Both companies lost many after being rescued because of the

ordeal through which they had passed.

They arrived in the val ley November 30, 1856. Teams, men, and provisions

continued coming to their assistance unti I the last company reached their

goal on December I, 1856. This company had lost one hundred and fifty making

nearly two hundred and fifty in al I that had died. Many others were crippled

through I ife, having been frozen and having suffered so much in other ways.

,-
 Edward La i rd (my fatherl was the son of James La i rd and ~1ary Ra i ny, born

12 February 1852, at Anet Lodge Irwin Parish, Scotland. He was but four years

old when his parents made that famous march of history, trudging up hi I I and

down del I, for even the chi Idren had to walk, as oxen and horses were few.

Brother Anderson once told me my father was the I ife of the camp -such

a bright sunny lad.

James Laird, being cal led by Brigham Young to help settle Spanish Fork,

I ived there for a number of years. Later, he was sent to Heber City. (Just one

of grandmothers experiences before they left Spanish Fork.

Indians came to burn her house whi Ie grandfather was after wood in a

nearby canyon. She had six chi Idren. She put them to bed and then fixed

something to eat for the Indians who were outside. They had bui It a fire

in her front yard. She took the food out to them and sat there al I night with

them. In th.e morning they left, saying she was a brave woman. (shame to kilil.

They were people of great faith. One time, it had rained for days and

grandmother was sitting by her fire. Some unseen power told her to move. As

she did so, the roof caved in.

As I was giving my name at the temple one evening, a lady standing by

asked me If James Laird was any relation to me. I answered, he was my

grandfather. She told me very many inspiring things. She said he was one of

the most convincing preachers she ever had heard and it was he wo had brought

her into the church when quite young. She said when his hand came down on the

pulpit you could feel what he said was true.

For many years my grandfather was a freighter from Heber City to Salt Lake.
As years went on, Edward fol lowed the freighting trade, alsu his brother-in low.

On one of their camping grounds in Park City, they found some ore. Taking it

to Salt Lake, they had it assayed and sold their claim for fifteen hundred

; dol lars (which now is the Si Iver King).

 With this money they bought farms in Parleys Ca nyon (now Mt. Washington).
,r"\ Grandfather operated a half - way house for the weary travelers for a number of
'olL. J

years . It was at this place he lost his good wife and three chi Idren with

diptheria. At the age of 46 he died six months later, leaving two daughters

and three sons.

~ Father wou Id stop at Hardy Stat i on to feed his team. It was here he met

my mother.

He often told us it was her big brown eyes that he fel I for as she served

him his din ners. A year later, January 15, 1872, they were married in the old

Endowment House.

Mether was the daughter of Wi I I iam FI int and Mary Jane Goodridge. She

was born in Farmington, January 14, 1853. Her father was born at Spad ford

Ondago , New York, January 28, 1813 . \~hen but a you ng man, he heard the Prophet

Joseph Smith preach and knew his teachings were true.

:) Grandfat he r FI int presided over a branch of the Mermon Ch urch in New

York State . He also had the privi ledge of driving Joseph F. Smith's mother's

team from Elk Horn, seventy mi les west of winter quarters, to the for ks of sweet

water and was sent back to help other poor emigrants to the val ley.

He arrived in Salt Lake with 8righam Young and Heber C. Kimbal I 's Company

September 26, 1848. Their courtship was rather short, having known Mary Jane

but three weeks, but with the blessings of Heber C Kimbal I that he should raise

a noble fami Iy, they were married. My mother was the second chi Id of seven. Not
much is said of her chi "ldhood days. At a young age she went to I ive with Aunt
\
\
Hattie Hardy in Parleys Canyon at Hardy's Station. (about the middle of the

resevo i r is '.he re th i s stat i on was located.

Their first home was made of logs about eighteen feet square . This hut

was roofed with wi I lows and earth, having but very I ittle pitch. They had adopted

the idea that the val ley was subject to very I ittle rain and al I their

roofs were nearly flat.

 5

They suffered no inconvenience from this fact unti I about the middle of

March when several days of snow, sleet, and rain occurred. Father's house was

covered dee per with earth than the adjoining ones. (By the way which was his

brother in-law ) . They soon came in for shelter. During the third day of the

, rain, Aunt lizzie, father's sister, gave birth to a baby. Water was dripping in
'\

first one p Iace, then another, and they were compe I Ied to ho Id an umbre I Ia over

her. The I ittle mother was but sixteen years old (the baby died). She late r

became the mother of sixteen chi Id ren.

Father started in the sheep business on a sma I I scale. Graduall y his

business grew, and with sheep and cattle, he flourished, unti I he became one of

the leaders In this industry in the west.

Father spent a great deal of his time away from home, and the rearing of

the ch i Idren fe 1·1 a great dea I on mother. I ,

1.\ I
One of December's coldest days, I opened my eyes, the eighth chi Id of ten.

When I was but five days old, mother washed, which brought on chi I Is and fever.

This together with the worry of the rest of the chi Idren, threatened her life.

It was months before she was able to take care either of herself or chi Id. She

often said the Lord was merciful in so ordering things that made it possible for

Aunt Hattie Hardy to come and take care of her for five months. (This aunt had

no chi Idren. She was a midwife at the time of her death, and had del ivered

three thousand babies). She thought the world of my mother.

By this time a third house was bui It, consisting of six rooms - a large

kitchen , I iving room, bedroom, and three bedrooms upstairs. A front porch was

hid den completely by large poplar trees, a favorite place for the birds. (some of

those trees are sti I I al ive. Mother and father planted those trees together).

Mothe r's . old fashioned garden was the paradise of my chi Idhood and her gooseberry

pies •. The bushes were always loaded with dawny red be rr ies and her exquisite
~ .'

jel I Y served on bread and butter. (I th i nk I can sti II taste it ) .

 6

used to sander amant the trees hunting the first snow drops, violets,

~ .'
curley wigs, and butter cups, with their fragi Ie petals. They were the lovel iest

of al I. Going for the cows, was one of my easiest duties. To go along was al I

that wos necessary, for my brother Joe's dog did tne work. Showing admirable

intel I igence he would round up the cows and head them home playfully hanging on

to the lazy ones tai Is. He was a black and white dog with a white ring around

his neck. His tai I was a plume of white. Ring had plent y to do on our ranch.

Rathe r raised him as half man. Every night he would round up the sheep, and if one

was lost, he would hu nt unti I he found it. Ring was an expert at catching young

pigs. He would hald the~never hurting any. How thri I led we chi Idren al I were

when on one trip ' home from the sheep ca mp, father took the understanding

dog from his overcoat pocket. How we al I loved it. I can see that dog now

fol low ing my father .behi nd the plow, scaring seagul Is and ki I I ing snakes.

sometimes had to turn the grind stone for father when he was sharpening the
) moving machine sickle. That blade was four feet long and required a lot of

grinding. (it seemed I ike ten). Sometimes I became so enthral led by this

drudgery that I would keep on turning if father stopped to examine the edges of

the blade. can just see him stroking down his long dark beard, then he would

say, "trying to get a few turns a head."

What fun when the rai I r oad came thru the canyon. Many a time I've watched

that train puff up old Jumbo Hi I I. (by the way, it's the cl imb just before you

get to the resevoir dam. 'Sometimes a terrific whistle brought al I us kiddies to

the door. A hired man would tel I us a cow or horse had strayed onto the tracks.

About a mi Ie u; Lamb's Canyon was a trestle spanning a deep gorge. It was

diff icult to walk over, the ties being wide apart and so narrow that one felt

as if one were wa lking on moving machine knives. ' I had never crossed it unti lone

day Val and Hattie, my older sister, were sent to Aunt Clara 's who I ived at

Barkley's section house, where the trains stopped to take on water, before making
 7

the cl imb 'over the summit. As we were ha It w.ay across Hatt i e exc Iaimed. "theres

the tra in. II . Then we 'heard a fa i nt puff, puff. I n a few minutes it wou Id have been

upon us had ' we not cl imbed down onto the cross braces whi Ie it rushed over our

heads. We felt the hot engine on our faces and the smoke and cinders almost

choked us. - As the train rumbled by the trestle shook and I thought we should

be dashed below. With difficulty we regained the tracks rather shakey from

our experience.

Father always kept a storehouse or a cellar of food, apples, potatoes,

carrots, ~ides of salt bacon, hams, flour and sugar. A beef was always ki lied

as soon as cold weather came.

A new barn, a large construction, was bui It to shelter the animals.

(seems to me now I ike the airport hangers). Hay was stored on the second floor.

There was a prison break, and one night my brother Joe was throwing down

some hay to feed the an i ma I s when a vo i ce ca I Ied out, "come here". Instead of
")
~ him going toward the voice, he sl id down the hay chute. Father lost no time in

notifying the officers. When they arrived the convicts had escaped.

Having to help my sister ~-1ay do the mi Iklng, I had my favorite cow. She

was the leader, always going in first, cramming and pushing into the barn. Their

heads were fastened by" pole stanchims.

I remember, with extreme sadness, my real first scare. Father and mother

and some of my brothers and sisters were ready for Sunday School. Father, the day

before, had bought a fine horse, an extraordinaryly beautiful animal. The

team was hitched to the ,wagon when the thing happened. The new horse reared, then

plunged backward, pushing the wagon over the bank into the middle of the creek.

He struck his leg somehow and fel I. I saw him laying there in the water. Then

slowly, as if in despair, his head sunk beneath the water. As quickly as possible

father was out on the tongue and cut the harness to free him, but he was I imp as a

rag.
 l haven't the sl ig[ytest recollections of any stern rules at home .. There never

w.a s compulsIon · in the fami Iy and there never wasresistance, but there were

kIndnesses every day. Mother was always doing kindnesses. She was forever in and out

with food for her neighbors; With her wisdom she grew In favor with them all •

She was honest fn . dbfng everyt~ing to the best of her abl I Ity, ind~strious to an

astonishing degree, fair with her neighbors, -and stainless in her character. She

I ived as a faithful wife, the exemplary mother, and Latter Day Saint.

One day when father returned from the sheep camps, he had brought home a

dark bay pony. can't bei ieve there ever was anyone more del irious with joy.

When learned it was to be my very own, I named him Jimmy. It was a grand thing

for me to have to feed that animal before I fed myself. To brush his coat and

make it shine and ride him alone, swel led with pride, wishing for people to observe

me, were riches for my soul. I rode that pony one mi Ie to school.

When our household duties were done, mother read a great deal to us.

How we kiddies loved the first tiny flakes of snow. After several hours of
)
snowing, scarcely a feature was visible only the tops of the shed, barns, and trees.

When the wind sprang up and the branches of the trees that surrounded the house

rattled and beat against the windows, it made you feel I ike you I ived in the midst

of desolate sol itude, shut in from al I communication with the outside world.

When the sun did shine upon the vast, white shapes, drifts lay scattered in every

direction. Paths were shoveled through the drifts. Out we kiddies went bundled

up snug and warm. The air stung our checks I ike fire. The rays of the sun fel I

upon the trees so that the twigs sparkled I ike bright diamonds. North of the

resevoir was our sleight riding hi I I. That was my favorite amusement - down

the steep slopes, plunging through drifts, leaping bumps, swooping across the

fields. can feel those bumps now. We traveled during the winter in bob-sJeighs.

The bottom would be deep in straw. A galloway hide covered over us. How wei 1

,/ remember that hide. It was a souven i r of my faThers, be i ng the hide of one of his

prize animals that had died.

 9

The frosty window panes - I was forever drawing on them. Each member of
,'"I the fam i IY went on those panes. I rece i ved a severe sco Iding for draw i ng my

sister May's sweetheart. He sat pigeon toed so I put that young man's picture on
the frosty panes also.

When I was ten years old my baby brother died with croup. This brought

great sorrow to my mother. Father could never leave her alone. So this brought

about her. going to the sheep camps with him each summer. What fun - we eat

out of a chuck wagon and slept on the ground. No i sy throated frogs, katy d ids and

crickets fi lied the air. Father always rose at da\vn and stole into the forest

for the horses, whi Ie the heavy dew lay on the grass and wi Id flowers. Whi Ie

driving along one morning east of Chalk Creek my sisters were singing. Father

and mother were ahead in a comusary wagon loaded for the camps. The noise causing

some cattle to stamped. By the way that galloway hide was over the fr.ont seat.

The cattle in a dusty I ine bawl ing restlessly with confusion surrounded the
) white top Chalf wagon and buggy it was). Father cal I ing back to May crack your

whip and put that hide out of sight. (I can hear father call ing now). I sat

there and watched those cattle plod, half trot, through the deep dust, red eyes

rol I ing, tongues hanging out; see them crowd and cl imb over each other when

those behind passed closer. The rap, rap of horns against horn, crack, crack of

the whips, expecting the horses to be gorged every second and us al I ki I led, but

the distressed bel lowing of the calves turned them away. (were we thankful).

wei I remember the process of diping the sheep which carried on each

summer soon after shearing. It was done for scabe and ticks. How badly I felt

when my oldest brother Ed ducked one on my pet lambs under that yel low fluid,

whi Ie going thru that long vat.

The ledges on Chalk Creek near the camp were castles of paradise to play on.

can sti II see '1ay go da., dap with the groaning wagons three or four mi les an
hour. The air was hot and sti I I, the dust hung thick as the wheels plowed along.

( I'm very glad we don't have to travel that way in these days).
 10

~ly youngest brother Joe was . in the vic i n i ty of Chock Creek near Honers

dipping corrals with a band of sheep . He came across a brown bear cubs which

was treed by the faithful dogs - four in number. The bear being so easi Iy treed,

one of the sheep hearders thinking him on a par with the bear offered to cl imb

the tree and shake her out, but the bear refused to be given the shake. Then

realas was given to Joe he on horseback, the latter took a turn around the horn

of the saddle, as he was riding a pretty good cow horse, he succeeded in pul ling

the bear down, and right here the fun commenced. (for the bear). The bear

rushed at the hor se, struck him a powerful blow, cutting a deep gash in the

horse's shoulder, this freeing himself from the lariett. The men were soon up

pines and had a good view of the battle. Old sport getting too near, the bear

made a swipe at him getting his claws under the dogs collar and, off at arms

length made him dance a jig for some minutes, then the other dogs closing in to

help. They were put out of the game in one, two, three. This let sport loose,

seized the bear by the throat and was immediately locked in an embrace such as only

a bear can give, the two rol I ing over and over. Sport never breaking his hold

and lying so close to the bears breast he was unable, apparently to squeeze him

hard. Thus they fought - at last the bear succumbed with his wind pipe cut into .

The men said they had ki I led many a bear but had never saw such a game fight

as old Sport made.

Father acted in the bishopric for many years.

T~en Parleys Creek abominations started; the draining from barn yards, hog

pens, stables, etc and t~at the water coming from there which the citizens of Salt

Lake consumed r n the i r houses was thus contam i nated ·. So steps were ta ken and the

city bought the water right.

When father began to sel I the things - the cattle one by one, the machinery,

, - some furniture. My pony was given to a cousin in Idaho •

.....".
 11

VividlYi I remember the gesture of parting with them al I.

In 1892, our new home found us in Salt La ke City at 840 East 21 South .

(the old home sti II - stands. !1y sister ~.1rs . Snelgrove resides there).

[ ca n feel even now the flush of embarrassment as I think of my first

appearance in schoo I. wore a coat of my sister Hatties which was way to large.

[ was aware of a continuous scruting by the girls who went to school there.

As the morning ~Iowly wore on, one girl ask me my name. She became my

bosom pal and later she my sister in-law. Even my shoes as wei I as my dress

were labeled from the country.

The first show I ever attended \<as at the old Salt Lake Theater. How

those gas lights flared whi Ie I had the thri I I of my I ife. Father put his

attention to real estate and many of the biggest deals in Salt Lake are

products of his hand work.

Father was not only energetic but a hard worker. He was noted for honesty
,...".

~ and square deal ing.