Update item information
Title Saga of the Sanpitch Vol 09
Subject Pioneers
Description Stories and poems about early Southern Utah Pioneers
Publisher Snow College
Date 1977
Type Text
Format application/pdf
Language eng
Rights Management Snow College
Holding Institution Snow College
ARK ark:/87278/s6df6pc6
Setname snowc_sts
Date Created 2005-03-01
Date Modified 2005-03-01
ID 324900
Reference URL

Page Metadata

Title Reveries
Description REVERIES J. N. Simpson Moroni, Utah Professional Division Second Place Historical Essay My father was a large man. He stood a few inches over six feet...two hundred and thirty pounds of bone and muscle. Father was a stern man. I remember how his gray-green eyes could search one's very soul when he was displeased with something. His lips would then set in a straight and compressed line beneath his shaggy mustache. He never unjustly condemned anyone... not even the Indians he fought against in the Black Hawk War. He maintained that they were justified in fighting for what was rightly theirs. Father's hands were large and rough and calloused, but I recall how gentle they could be when he would lift me up to his knee, and I would take the large New York Standard watch from its sagging vest pocket and hold it up to my ear. Its rhythmic ticking fascinated me. (I still have that most cum-bersome watch.) It never ran down while in his possession and always showed the correct time. Every few days he would meet the train and compare time with the engineer. That it took strong men, men with courage and stamina to carry on the war with the Indian, no one can deny. My father was one of these. Shortly before he left England, a killing epidemic of black small pox broke out in Father's home town. People died so fast from this terribly contagious disease that enough coffins could not be provided, so in order to take care of the dead, long trenches were dug and the victims carefully laid out, then covered with canvas and earth. Father volunteered for the burial service after an urgent plea went out for help. Each morning a rough cart would rumble through the streets gathering the dead; and it was Father's job to stand in the deep trench and receive the bodies as they were handed down. Miraculously he did not -81-
Format application/pdf
Identifier 091_Reveries.jpg
Source Saga of the Sanpitch Vol 9
Setname snowc_sts
Date Created 2005-02-19
Date Modified 2005-02-19
ID 324854
Reference URL